#the only time he's looked at ease sitting by himself is at eddie's house. that's his HOME. he's his HOME

[faethfigueroth]

feeling deranged

[alchemistc]

"Evan's not here," Tommy says, and Eddie scowls at him as he pushes past Tommy, already aiming for the kitchen as he hitches the six pack he'd brought with him up under his armpit. It'd been a - a thing. A 'my best friend and my new friend are too busy sucking face to spend every spare moment distracting me from my problems' thing, a thing where Eddie sort of finally understood exactly why Buck had hip checked him on the basketball court months ago. He wants his best friend back. He wants the ease of his friendship with Tommy back.

Which is - Christ, he's selfish, is the thing. A month without Chris there to keep him occupied and Eddie has had some startling realizations about himself. ("You're not selfish, Eddie, you're the most selfless person I know." from Buck and "So fix it," from Tommy, a rare night out with the both of them because he'd headed date night off at the pass by asking Tommy to go out for drinks before he and Buck could make plans without him).

"My world doesn't revolve around Buck," Eddie tells him, and screws the cap off a beer to hand it to Tommy. Tommy's doing that judgmental face he gets when he wants to say something bitchy but hasn't put the words in the right order yet. And - Eddie's not lying. Buck is a fixed point, an ever present life-line, but he's not the fucking sun.

Neither is Chris, apparently, which is news to Eddie and he's - spiralling, still. Quietly, calmly, and he's only punched one hole in the wall on a bad night.

"You ever go to Frank?" Eddie asks, like Frank is the only therapist in the greater LA area, and Tommy rolls his eyes, disappears long enough for the muted sound of the television to go quiet.

When he comes back Eddie's reading the label on his beer bottle

"Apparently I resent you," Eddie says, and Tommy chuffs a laugh.

"Apparently?"

"No, I -." The words had been just as hard two hours ago. This little trip was his own design, he'd been told specifically to sit in it for a while but Christ, an hour a week isn't enough time to talk through his issues and it's not like he can tell Buck he resents him for finding something he's happy and stable and solid in. So. Tommy it is. "You and Buck are good together. I'm happy for you both. I am."

Tommy settles against a countertop with his hip digging into the Formica. His kitchen has gained a dutch oven that looks suspiciously like the one Buck has been showing Eddie for like six months that he couldn't justify the cost of because he's not around enough to use it as much as he'd like.

"I'm not usually the one without his shit together," Eddie says.

"No offense, Eddie, but I thought the whole point of therapy was you realizing you rarely have your shit together."

Also true. He's - usually better at hiding it though. Kim was a joker stacked up on a wobbly house of cards and he'd known, somewhere in the back of his mind, that she'd bring the whole thing tumbling to the ground. Mass casualty event. No survivors.

"You make each other better people," Eddie says, which is the wrong thing to say apparently because Tommy scowls.

"If you wanna completely ignore all the work we've both put into ourselves," he snipes, and - yeah. Fair. Buck's been in therapy for years now. Every once in a while he'll pull something out of his ass that makes Eddie's skin itch - something so mystifyingly self-aware that it makes Eddie want to claw into his chest cavity and rip out his fucking heart. And Tommy - well, he doesn't know much but it's not like Tommy's the paragon of perfection. He's worked through some shit. Is still working through shit, if the aftermath of his and Buck's first real fight is any indication.

"I've never been with someone who makes me want to work on myself," Eddie admits, and the lines around Tommy's eyes shift. He sighs.

"Never gonna find that if you don't want it for yourself."

Yeah. Frank's said as much. It's just - Eddie doesn't have a starting point. Tommy had the whole hiding his true self thing, and Buck had the dead-brother-shitty-parents thing, and he's whittling them both down to the sharp edges of themselves in his mind, which isn't entirely fair but it's easier than trying to confront what the fuck his own problem is. Dead wife, his kid in another state, a contentious relationship with his father, a whole backlog of PTSD he's never really confronted head on. Weird feelings cropping up about a religion he thought he'd left in the dust and sand of Afghanistan and a hole he's been trying to fill up with other people since - well, he doesn't even know since when.

Tommy's got his dog tags laying in the bottom of an empty fruit bowl on his kitchen table. Eddie's never seen them before, and some part of him knows Tommy'd brought them out for a conversation with Buck he'll never hear himself, and he aches. He doesn't want them, but he wants what they have, wants to be able to talk about the difficult shit without closing in on himself, wants to have someone to come home to, wants -

"I spent six months imagining my therapist's head exploding every time she made me talk about something uncomfortable," Tommy tells him, and takes a long drag off his beer. For the first time since he'd knocked on Tommy's door, Eddie actually feels a little bad about interrupting his night, but that just leaves him spiralling some more because Eddie usually feels bad about everything, all the time, so why hadn't he felt guilty about this until now? And why does he feel guilty about not feeling guilty?

"I just want him to fix me," Eddie says, and Tommy laughs. Laughs hard and long enough that Eddie's feeling offended. Off kilter and pissed off and -

"You're not a single loose wire, Eddie. Can't just replace a cable and have a clean slate. You gotta change your oil and replace the spark plugs and top up the coolant, over and over again until you die."

It's the sort of metaphor Eddie'd like to lob across the field of engagement just to watch it get shot to pieces. It's apt, though.

"Feels like the whole engines gotta go," Eddie tells him "Transmission's shot and my catalytic converter keeps getting stolen and the mufflers been welded back on so many times that it's half-solder."

"Christ," Tommy says, which. Yeah. Exactly. "Well you can't exactly send yourself to the junk yard for scrap and buy a newer model."

"Buck does," Eddie snaps, and Tommy rolls his eyes. He'd been there the last time Buck brought up his 1.0 days.

"Half the time a system update patches ten bugs and creates twenty more."

"So Buck's buggy, is what you're saying."

He rolls his tongue over his teeth. "You are running off faulty software and you've been refusing to update to the new version because you heard it'd burn the battery faster, is what I'm saying."

Eddie doesn't have a whole lot of charge to begin with. And the metaphors are starting to muddle in his brain, too many different ideas battling around when he's already spent an ornery hour talking to Frank and another trying to convince himself he doesn't resent his best friend for accepting his own fucking flaws and working on them.

Tommy sets the beer bottle down. Eyes Eddie for a moment, and Eddie wonders how often he levels that look on Buck, how Buck feels when Tommy flays him open and digs through his insides. "You wanna go hit something for a bit?" he asks, and Eddie nods so quickly he nearly smacks his nose into the brim of the bottle in his own hand. He's about done feeling his feelings, for the moment. He'll probably end up being annoyed that Tommy makes him wrap his hands before he takes some aggression out on the bag hung up in the corner of Tommy's garage, but maybe when Tommy gets annoyed with him and does that takedown maneuver that knocks the wind out of Eddie's lungs when they're sparring he'll let that go.

Tommy flicks his forehead on the way to grab him something to wear. "That's for calling my boyfriend buggy, jackass," he says, and laughs himself all the way down the hall when Eddie splutters after him.

His bedroom door snicks shut by the time Eddie's recovered enough to remind him that he'd been Eddie's friend first.

[livwritesstuff]

“Oh…shit,” Eddie mutters as the garage door slowly lifts open.

“What’s oh shit?” Hazel pipes up from the back seat.

“Nothin’. Just didn’t know Papa was gonna be home early today.”

Eddie takes his sweet time easing into the garage and cutting the engine, and then he twists in his seat to look at Hazel.

“Okay, we had a super fun day today, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Right, so here’s the deal – Papa is not gonna be thrilled with me if he sees how much fun today was. What if you go inside and distract Papa for me while I get everything in the house?”

Hazel just looks at him for a moment – long enough that Eddie wonders if she might hit the other end of the spectrum and go tattle on him to Steve, (and honestly, with Hazel it was sort of a toss-up if she’d actually be interested in running a mostly harmless con on her dad anyway).

“Okay,” she finally says.

“Okay?” Eddie repeats, “Alright, atta-girl. You wanna come up with a plan or–”

“No,” she cuts him off, fiddling with the buckle on her carseat.

Eddie pauses.

“You’re good?”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” he replies, only somewhat tentatively, and only then does he get out of the car, help Hazel out of her seat, and follow her into the house.

Steve is sitting at the kitchen counter, and he looks up as they walk in.

“Papa!” Hazel exclaims, barely kicking her sandals off before she’s running up to Steve and jumping into his arms.

“You’re home early,” Eddie comments.

“Had a feeling my last client was gonna cancel so I got all my admin shit done early in the day,” Steve replies, “What were you two up to?”

“Errands,” Eddie replies, because keep it simple, stupid (or so Eddie needs to remind himself constantly).

He hikes Hazel a little higher up so he can press a kiss onto her cheek, “How ‘bout you? Did you have a good day today?”

“Yup,” Hazel nods, and Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at her behind Steve’s back, “I wanna snuggle and put jammies on and read with you please.”

Steve’s whole face lights up.

“Really? You wanna snuggle and have some quiet time before your sisters get home?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods again, nuzzling her cheek against the collar of his shirt.

Steve looks entirely delighted as he heads up the stairs, and Hazel gives Eddie a thumbs up without even lifting her head off of Steve’s shoulder.

Holy shit, Eddie thinks, because he can’t believe that actually worked, but also because, holy shit, Hazel is diabolical. Just as diabolical as her big sisters, but in her own special, twisted kind of way, which means Eddie and Steve’s hopes of having an easy go of it with their youngest daughter are totally shot.

[mixsethaddams]

Steddie fic that was originally a twitter thread. Hurt/comfort, light angst, pining Steve, happy ending, roughly 6.5k words. Enjoy!

Look. It wasn’t like Steve was jealous, ok? Envious of the situation, maybe. But not jealous of the person. He was still burnt by Nancy rejecting him for Jonathan again. That was all.

After Vecna, he’d thrown himself into caring for everyone else just like always. Visited Max every day and helped her get used to her wheelchair. Drove Lucas to see her. Drove Robin to meet Vicky. He even helped Eddie and Wayne move into their new house.

Steve liked spending time around Eddie and his uncle. It was the type of family unit he never thought actually existed. He couldn’t fathom living somewhere so cramped and not tearing each other apart. He liked being alone with Eddie in the yard for a quick smoke, too.

Steve was kind of disappointed when there was no reason to spend time with them after they were all moved in. He told himself it was just because he didn’t have much else to occupy his time once Max came back home and Robin got her driving license.

The few times Steve did catch a passing glance at Eddie after he’d pick Dustin up from a D&D session, he had to fight against the urge to come up with an excuse to stay. He just… he was sure hanging out with Eddie would help ease the loneliness that he felt. That’s all.

So when the kids suggested a party at the end of the summer before going back to school, Steve thought it would be the perfect excuse to get some quality time in Eddie’s orbit. It wasn’t like he wanted them to be best friends or anything, just closer than they were.

They were probably too different to ever really get along in any meaningful way, but still. Steve still wanted to be near him. A male friend his own age, right? Is that so bad? He hadn’t had one since Tommy. He missed the specific type of camaraderie that came with it.

Steve was delighted when Eddie sat beside him in his kitchen on the day of the party. Their elbows knocked while they spoke to each other and those around them. They laughed and whispered behind their hands at the kids. It was perfect.

Well. At least until Steve had to excuse himself to make a phone call. Only… that was a lie. Because Steve was sitting on the floor of his bathroom with tears streaming down his face and a tightness in his chest he hadn’t ever felt before.

Everything had been going so well... Until the doorbell rang and Eddie jumped up to answer it, leaving Steve halfway through a sentence. When Eddie came back, smile so wide his eyes were practically crinkled shut, he introduced the whole group to his new girlfriend.

It was easy for Steve to pass it off as a bad call with his parents when Robin came looking for him twenty minutes later. He told her he’d be fine, but had a headache now and was ducking out early. Not the first time it happened so it was easy to believe.

Steve curled up on his bed while the party wound down downstairs. He found himself simultaneously straining to hear Eddie’s voice, and flinching when he heard that unfamiliar high pitched laugh. Her laugh.

It sounded like everyone liked her. There was no awkward silences and her voice was wound right into the cracks of every conversation. Steve clamped his hands over his ears when he finally couldn’t take it anymore. He was happy for Eddie. He was!

He just missed that New Relationship phase. It wasn’t like Steve couldn’t go out and get laid any time he wanted. He could. He did. He just always ended up wishing he was hanging out with Eddie instead after leaving them back at their houses.

Steve sniffled and shook his head roughly against his pillow. He was being selfish. He knew that. His chance to have a closer friendship with Eddie was ruined by some girl. Vague memories of high school name calling wormed their way back into Steve’s brain.

It was a bitter thought, to think how much Tommy Hagan would be surprised by Eddie having a real life girlfriend and not just someone that everyone was sure he’d made up. Steve half thought about calling his old friend to crack some jokes about it, make a little fun.

It only made the hollow feeling inside him grow to think like that. He felt silly, really. Getting so upset over a person who still thought of him as a high school bully dating someone. Steve fell asleep as the sun rose, hours after everyone went home.

They went everywhere together. But that’s what couples did, wasn’t it? They spent time together. Steve just kind of wished Eddie didn’t have to bring her, Sara, along with him every time he came to Family Video.

Steve felt himself getting almost angry whenever they walked through the door, holding hands and cooing over each other. He’d find a way to busy himself to avoid dealing with them and a couple of times even point blank ignored them.

The day he caught them kissing in the store was not his finest hour. He snapped that it was the middle of a Saturday afternoon and to get the fuck out, don’t do that shit when there’s kids around. Eddie looked confused, almost hurt.

He muttered something about kissing not being illegal while he pulled Sara out of the store behind him. She was sheepishly giggling and Steve wanted to yell at her to fuck off again. People getting boyfriends or girlfriends never bothered him this much before.

Robin finally getting with Vickie never made him jealous. Dustin and Suzie, Will and Mike, none of them. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“What is wrong with you?” asked Robin, appearing behind him. “Since when do you throw people out for kissing?”

“I just don’t need to see it,” said Steve. He turned to grab a pile of tapes to restock.

“Are you jealous?” teased Robin.

“No,” snapped Steve, louder than he intended. Robin stood in silent shock. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I just… I miss that, I guess,”

Robin eyed him carefully.

“You miss what, exactly?” she asked. “Eddie? I didn’t know you guys were close,”

“No, not…” Steve sighed again. “I just don’t like friends ditching us for someone they barely know. That’s all,”

Robin pursed her lips.

She knew as well as Steve did that was almost the opposite of what Eddie was doing. He brought Sara along to get-togethers, and invited everyone to join them when they went to Indy for the day, or to the quarry to swim. Everyone else had welcomed her warmly.

Because she was nice. And isn’t that just the fucking worst? Steve tried his hardest to deny it to himself but she was a sweetheart. It was no wonder they all loved her. A stone settled in his stomach when he thought that Eddie might actually love her too.

No one fought back too hard against Steve when he kept skipping out on spending time with everyone. His mood lately had been enough to make them almost glad that the dark cloud wouldn’t be joining them. He preferred to sit and stew by himself anyway.

He’d hang out with Robin like normal but even she was starting to run out of ways to avoid talking about Eddie. Because people had noticed. They’d have to be blind not to. It was painfully obvious that whenever Eddie (and Sara) was mentioned, Steve soured.

Steve couldn’t even blame everyone else for finding it awkward. Eddie was their friend and they wanted to be around him. That’s all Steve wanted too! They were on the same side here! Once or twice he felt like throwing a tantrum and reminding them HE was there first.

Especially Robin and Dustin. Whenever he was feeling particularly sore about his failure of an attempt to build a closer relationship with Eddie, he wondered why they had managed to get what he wanted.

It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with him. He used to be the most popular guy in school! He had charm! It should have been so easy to get Eddie to want to be around him too. Steve often found himself wishing Eddie was next to him watching tv at home.

Just a subtle thing. He’d hear a joke on some sitcom and wonder if Eddie would find it funny. Or if the latest song on the radio would make him nod his head. Steve thought back to one of the days he helped Eddie and Wayne move into their house.

There was a song playing downstairs while they hung blinds in his room. Steve couldn’t remember the song or the tune, but he could tell you exactly which one of the freckles on Eddie’s nose were covered with tiny paint splashes. All he could remember was Eddie.

And see, Steve’s not an idiot. He knows, okay? He’s known ever since Sara turned up in his fucking kitchen and he felt like Eddie’s smile was sharp enough to slit his throat. He fought it from the start. Told himself again and again that it was nothing. It’d pass.

Throwing them out of the store was all Steve needed to admit to himself that maybe a closer friendship wasn’t all he’d been hoping for, when he lay awake at night wondering what would happen if he just drove on over there. He liked to drift to sleep thinking about it.

Robin caught on quick. She wasn’t dumb either, you see. She was able to see the way Steve’s brows turned down a split second before furrowing when the happy couple came into the store on a friday night. She never mentioned it, but Steve knew she knew.

It wasn’t until well into the winter that Steve actually saw Eddie without Sara attached to his hip. He came through the door while Steve and Robin were preparing to close up the store for the night, rapping his knuckles on the counter to get their attention.

Robin shot Steve a careful look before greeting him and asking what movie he wanted.

“Nah not tonight,” Steve heard him tell her from where he’d turned his back to rewind tapes.

“Just here for a visit?” asked Robin.

“I’m on my way to give Sara a ride home from work,”

Steve’s stomach clenched at the mention of her name.

“I’m actually here to invite you guys out somewhere, week after next one,” said Eddie. “A party, kind of,”

“Oh yeah?” asked Robin brightly. Steve knew she loved parties. “What’s the occasion?”

“Well,” said Eddie with a long breath. “Sara’s got some family up in Michigan, and her cousin offered her a job running the place she owns,” Steve had stopped moving. Please. Please no. “And it’s too good to turn down soooo,”

Eddie cleared his throat.

“I’m throwing a going away party,” finished Eddie.

“For Sara?” said Robin. “Oh that’s so sweet,”

Steve could tell Robin was still a half step behind. He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could. Please, not this….

Eddie let out a small laugh, he sounded almost nervous.

“Actually, uh,” Eddie drummed his fingertips on the counter. “For both of us,” Steve opened his eyes and felt his breath shorten as Eddie continued. “I’m going with her,”

Steve, back still turned, gripped the vhs case in his hand so hard he could feel the edges about to crack.

“Wait, you’re…” Robin stuttered. “What?”

“I’m going with her,” repeated Eddie. “To Michigan. She asked me to come last weekend,”

“She says there’s some metal bars I can try find work in,” explained Eddie. Steve could hear the edge of excitement in his voice. “And maybe I’ll join a new band up there too, who knows,”

“Your band!” exclaimed Robin. “Oh god, what are they going to do without you?”

“They’ll figure it out,” said Eddie. Steve could practically hear him shrugging. “Better off without my reputation holding them back anyway,”

Steve focused on keeping his breathing steady. He picked up another tape, hoping his shaking hands weren’t too obvious.

“This is…” Robin started. “Eddie are you sure about this?”

“What?” he asked. “Yeah! I mean this is the fresh start I wanted and Saras great. All I can think about is how she wants me there, no-one wants me anywhere,”

Steve held back the scoff that built in his throat

“And I’m happy for you,” said Robin. “We all are-" She reached back and placed a hand on Steve’s back, which he subtly shook by moving sideways. “-but isn’t this a little, I don’t know, soon? You’ve only been together a couple months,”

Eddie was quiet for a beat.

“This is something I’ve dreamed about, this chance,” said Eddie flatly. “New life, great girl. Whats your issue?”

“Eddie its not that easy to-“

“Buckley?” Eddie cut her off quickly. “Either be supportive or don’t okay? I already got this lecture from Wayne”

“I just-“

“I really don’t need to hear it from anyone else” said Eddie. “Am I putting your name on the guestlist or not?”

Robin sighed.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there,” she said. “Vickie too,”

“Great!” said Eddie, instantly brighter, a sharp edge to it now. “Harrington? You too?”

Steve spoke over his shoulder.

“Working that night,” he said simply. “Can’t,”

“Seriously?” said Eddie. “You don’t even know what night it’s on!"

“Yeah well,” said Steve, finally turning around to look Eddie in the eye. “It’s probably a safe bet so, count me out,”

“I don’t get you, man,” mumbled Eddie, looking him up and down. Steve shrugged and turned his head to watch the lone customer browsing through the aisles.

“Enjoy the party,” said Steve simply.

“Whatever,” said Eddie, pushing off the counter and going out the door.

“Steve…” said Robin gently.

“Don’t.” He warned.

“Are you really not going?” she asked.

“I can’t watch that,” he told her. The customer waved him over. Before he went to them, he looked to Robin again. “Don’t try to make me,” he said.

She just nodded.

Steve stuck to his word and didn’t go to the party. He had started to get angry about everything, truth be told. He felt a flare in his stomach when he thought about why he had to fall for someone who not only didn’t like him back, but was leaving the state too.

It didn’t seem fair. All Steve wanted in life was someone to love, but everytime he tried to open himself up to it, he got knocked back. He browsed a magazine in the gas station that gave the advice “get over them by getting under someone else” in large bold letters.

So thats what he’d been doing. Steve had called up every girl he knew with a pretty smile and spent every single night, getting over Eddie. It was easy to lie to himself and pretend it was working.

Whenever any of the kids came by the store to rent a movie, Steve pretended to be busier than he was to avoid them. They all had stories about Eddie, reminiscing about good times and getting sad in the run up to his leaving date. Steve didn’t need to hear it.

One night, a quiet Saturday right before closing, Steve counted to 10 and asked Robin how the party went. Her smile was tight.

“It was fun,” she said gently.

“And…” Steve took a deep breath. “Eddie had a good time?”

Robin’s eyes were soft.

“He did,” she told Steve. “Sara bought him a new guitar, as a surprise,”

Steve swallowed hard and looked away. The flare of anger tried to brush through his ribcage again. Instead it felt weak, too drowned out by the heavy feeling behind his eyes.

“Does he love her?”

Robin chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered Steve’s question.

“He’s following her to another state,” she said after a moment. “That must mean something,”

Steve nodded.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Guess it does,”

*

"Come on, it'll be fun, it's only for two nights and it'll take your mind off everything,"

Robin was trying to convince Steve to join the other older members of the party for a weekend in some cabins in a national park in Tennessee.

Argyle's family owned them and, as a Thank You for welcoming him into their little group, had promised them free use of them whenever they wanted. Nancy would be going overseas to study for six months after New Years, so it was a kind of send off for her.

It was well into December now though, and Steve didn't feel like freezing his balls off alone in a cabin. He hadn't seen Eddie's van around for a little while, but there had been a small ad in the classifieds from Sara's family wishing her luck with her new life.

That was really all Steve needed to tell him that they were gone. Eddie was gone. A few days of peace and quiet wouldn't be the worst thing to clear his head. Well. That, and Argyle's guaranteed van full of weed.

As if to read his mind, Robin spoke up again.

"They're got these huge wood fires in the cabins, and me and you will have a whole one to ourselves," she said. "And no kids! We can have some drinks and just relax. Please, Steve?"

Steve eyed her carefully.

"I don't know, Rob," said Steve, sighing. "Argyle will have tons of room in his van for you, and he'll bunk with you if you don't want to be alone,"

"But! But!" Her eyes were wide.

Steve smirked.

"Tell me the truth and I'll say yes," he said, teasing.

"What?" she tried hard to look confused, bless her.

"Tell me that this has nothing to do with wanting to comfort Nancy," dared Steve, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Robin balked.

"Thats...! That's not...!" she stammered.

Nancy and Jon's break up had been kept quiet. None of the kids knew yet. They agreed that another stint of long distance would be too much for them, so they parted ways. It was clean, easy. It made Steve sad in his own way.

Robin and Vickie's breakup was less easy. She decided that Steve and Robin's friendship was something she couldn't be comfortable with. Robin had no choice but to understand, and Vickie had no choice but to walk away when Robin chose Steve over her.

Steve laughed.

"It's okay, Rob," said Steve. "I just don't get why you need me there for it,"

Robin finally gave up the act.

"So you can be my getaway driver if it doesn't go well," she said like it was obvious.

Steve laughed again.

"Alright fine," said Steve. "But...even if it goes well, she's still leaving,"

"I know," sighed Robin. "I just... I just feel like I have to try, you know? I don't want to be too late," Steve wished he could be so optimistic. Even a day apart would kill him, nevermind six months.

"Is that crazy?" asked Robin. "To want to do this and then wait for her?"

"No," mused Steve. "Just don't hop on a plane and follow her. That would be crazy,"

Robin laughed. "Well if Eddie is following Sara-"

Her eyes went wide. Robin clamped a hand over her mouth as Steve's chest constricted.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

Steve held his hand up.

"It's fine," he lied. "When's the trip again? Gotta get gas, and food, you know?"

"Steve I-"

"When, Rob?"

Steve's stomach was lurching violently, caught off guard by the mention of his name. And hers. He rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead.

"Um, this weekend," said Robin quietly. "We'll need to leave Friday morning,"

"Ok," nodded Steve. "I'll be there,"

The drive was better than Steve expected. Robin was a good passenger. She could read a map and always had the snacks ready to hand him. Steve had never been to this part of Tennessee before, so he was happy when Robin directed him onto the final dirt trail.

Robin spotted it before he did, parked right between two of the three cabins.

"Oh," she gasped. "Steve, I...I didn't know, I swear, you have to believe me,"

"What?" mumbled Steve, looking at her before following her gaze.

Steve took a second before he realised what he was looking at.

"I didn't know," Robin repeated quietly.

Steve gripped the steering wheel hard. There was no mistaking it. Right there, loud and proud.

Eddie's van.

Steve slid out of the driver’s seat carefully. Argyle came towards them with wide arms and a wider smile.

“Welcome, Brochaco and Brochacette!” he said brightly. “Who wants to learn all about the wonders of the safe keeping of your woodland abode?”

Robin stepped forward and Argyle directed her to the middle cabin. Steve was glad, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus. His eyes were already darting around, trying to spot Eddie. Hoping he didn’t see Sara instead. Nancy ran towards him.

“Steve!” She yelled happily.

“I’m glad you came,” she said, hugging him.

Steve almost didn’t hear her. Over her shoulder he saw him. Sitting on a low camping chair around a small firepit, chatting quietly with Jonathan, was Eddie.

“Come say hi!” She pulled him by the arm towards the others.

Steve rapidly counted the chairs around the fire. Six. If anyone had brought a…plus one…there’d be seven. Or maybe they hadn’t expected Steve to join and the empty chair next to Eddie did have an owner?

“Hey man,” said Jonathan. “Sit, fire’s great,”

Steve considered the chairs again. Eddie hadn’t even looked up to great him, instead keeping his gaze on the fire. Nancy wandered towards the cooler to unearth a bottle of white wine, while Jonathan left in search of a lighter.

“She’s not here, just sit down,” said Eddie cooly.

Steve looked at Eddie with wide eyes. He still wasn’t looking up, but his jaw was set and his hand gripped the neck of his beer bottle tightly. Steve sat down in the chair next to Eddie feeling like a scolded pupil.

“How, uh,” started Steve. “How come?”

Eddie puffed a sarcastic laugh into his bottle as he raised it for a swig.

“You don’t care,” he said.

Steve couldn’t defend himself. Eddie was right, he didn’t care. Robin and Argyle returned, all knowledge of safely lighting the indoor stove passed on.

“Glad you’re here, my guy,” said Argyle, sitting down and leaning over to fist bump Steve. “Figured you might like a chance to be with the whole gang again, now that the Ed Man swung back for a visit,”

“Yeah, this is great,” said Steve, only mildly grinding his teeth.

Steve knew the chill down his spine had nothing to do with the chill of the late afternoon. He was trembling in Eddie’s presence, with half a mind to just jump in his car and peel out of there. Robin would understand, he was sure of it.

Truly, Steve didn’t know if he was happy or sad to see him. His stomach churned everytime Eddie spoke in conversation, as everyone’s voice got louder as the day grew darker and the beers flowed faster. At the same time, he could barely turn his head to look at him.

It was like he didn’t feel like he had permission to look at him. He belonged to someone else and Steve had made himself clear; he wanted nothing to do with it. The night was cool around them when groups broke off.

Nancy and Robin where huddled together, having pulled their chairs close and covered themselves with a blanket. Jon and Argyle where leaning back and looking at the stars, softly speaking through private smiles. Eddie and Steve were quiet.

Steve had picked the label entirely off his bottle and rubbed the remaining glue until it was smooth. Once or twice he thought he heard Eddie inhale in a way that would signal the start of a sentence, but nothing ever came. Eventually, Steve got up and walked away

He didn’t go far, just around the back of the cabins. It was lit nicely by the moon and he could see into the woodland around them. It was peaceful, and he felt his chest loosen slightly now that he was further away from Eddie.

Steve took a cigarette out of his pocket and fumbled for a lighter before realising he didn’t have one. Sighing, he leaned down on the fence and watched the darkness between the trees. He knew it should scare him.

After everything they’ve been through, a still and perfect blackness should make his skin twitch, but he just felt a sort of comfort in it. Steve watched a small mouse scurry between some fallen leaves, and wondered if it had somewhere warm nearby to sleep.

A crack of a twig behind him made Steve jump. He turned quickly to see Eddie rounding the corner of the cabin.

“Sorry,” he said flatly. “I’ll find somewhere else,”

“Wait,” said Steve. “You stay, I need to find a lighter anyway,” He waved his unlit cigarette.

Eddie rolled his eyes and approached Steve, lighting his own smoke before handing the lighter to him.

“Thanks,” said Steve, lifting it to his lips. He felt like his chest was about to wring itself inside out with how hard it was squeezing.

Eddie leaned on the fence next to Steve.

“What are you doing here?” asked Eddie after a while.

“Oh, uh?” said Steve. “Just wanted some time alone I guess?”

“Not here,” said Eddie, clicking his tongue. “Here, like, the cabins. You haven’t come anywhere for months,”

Steve swallowed. He didn’t want to say ‘I didn’t think you’d be here’. That would just be rude.

“Robin…” he said. “She asked me to come,”

Eddie hummed.

“How about you?” asked Steve. “I thought you were in Michigan,”

Eddie smoked quietly.

“I was,” he agreed.

“When are you... going back?” asked Steve in spite of himself. He should have been overjoyed to finally have some one on one time with Eddie after pining for it for so long, but he couldn’t let himself enjoy it, knowing it wouldn’t last.

Eddie didn’t answer. Steve took a nervous drag of him smoke and tried something different.

“Will Wayne go see you up there, do you think?” he asked. Eddie rolled his head around on his shoulder.

“No Steve,” he said almost matter-of-factly. “I don’t think he will,”

“Oh,” said Steve. “How, uh, how come?”

Eddie took a deep breath.

“No use going up there if…” Eddie hesitated. “If I’m not there,”

Steve’s brow furrowed.

“What?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t you be there?”

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Changed my mind, I guess,” he said with a soft shrug.

Steve was confused.

“I don’t…” he said. “I don’t understand?”

“Me neither,” said Eddie, softening slightly. “Haven’t even told anyone else yet. I drove us up there and I just…” Eddie cleared his throat. “Drove right on back,”

Steve could feel his eyebrows touch at this point.

“But… you were so excited,” said Steve. “It was your fresh start. What…what happened? What do mean you drove back?” asked Steve.

Eddie breathed out heavily.

“It didn’t feel right,” he said. “I think I realised it right after we hit the highway. I was too caught up in it to see that it just wasn’t…right,”

Steve was quiet.

“I got lost in the idea that, I don’t know,” Eddie waved his hand around. “Someone wanted me, and I just kind of went with the flow. Didn’t matter where it was taking me,”

“But, you wanted to leave, right?” asked Steve.

Eddie shrugged again.

“Thought I did,” said Eddie. “But then all I could think about was Wayne being alone and I…wanted to be back in the trailer with him. I wanted Hawkins,”

“So…You’re doing long distance, then?” asked Steve.

Eddie hummed again, pulling a final drag from his smoke.

“Like I said,” said Eddie quietly. “I was too caught up in feeling wanted,”

“Oh…” said Steve. He wanted to comfort Eddie but wasn’t sure how. He didn’t want Eddie to be unhappy and it did sound like he’d had to make a tough decision, with tougher consequences.

“So you’re back in Hawkins again for good?” asked Steve. He didn’t know if he could handle seeing him everywhere again.

“Yeah,” snorted Eddie. “Back again,”

Steve held the burnt filter of his own smoke in his hand.

“Back in a town I have some fucking stupid attachment to,” continued Eddie. “Half the folks still think I’m a killer but hey, here I am,” Eddie let out a tight laugh. “Who wants me now?” asked Eddie into the darkness, offering the rhetorical question to the night.

Steve knew it wasn’t a question that needed an answer. Really, he did. But when Eddie dropped his hand back onto the fence, it was barely an inch away from his. Steve could practically feel Eddie’s body heat coming from it. His breathing got tight.

Steve stared at their hands, so close. Eddie’s words rang in his ears. I want you, he thought. I want you! Steve slowly shifted his hand to the side of his little fingers brushed Eddie’s. Eddie looked down when he felt it. Steve held his breath.

Steve lifted his little finger to rub to softly against Eddie’s.

“Oh…” Eddie whispered.

“Yeah…” Steve whispered back.

Argyle’s voice cut through the night.

“Steve? Eddie? Where are you? Did a bear get you guys? Do they have bears in this state?”

“Shit” muttered Eddie, pulling his hand away like he’d been burnt. He dropped his spent cigarette to the ground and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I…fuck,” he said under his breath.

He didn’t look at Steve as he walked quickly back to the main clearing.

Steve bent forward slightly and rubbed his hands over his face. He felt like such an idiot. What the hell did he expect would happen? What the fuck was he thinking?

Steve stayed behind the cabins a while longer until Argyle’s voice called to him again. He dried his face as best he could, hoping the darkness would hide what he couldn’t. He came back to the fire and assured Argyle he really didn’t have to fight any bears

Steve smiled at how relieved he and Jonathan seemed. Eddie was staring dead into the fire, the fingertips of one hand drumming over his mouth. Steve could barely look at him. He felt so stupid. Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Robin’s head.

“I’m heading to bed,” he told her quietly.

“Huh?” she asked, barely turning away from Nancy. “Oh, yeah, I’ll be in soon too,”

“Sure you will,” Steve teased with a wink.

He announced his departure to the others and got raised bottles from Jon and Argyle.

Eddie didn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him too. He retreated to his cabin, immediately crossing his arms against the cold when he entered. He stood in front of the large stove fire for a second and debated calling Robin in to light it for him.

After a few minutes of thought Steve decided to just brave the cold. He had a hoodie and long sweats he could wear in bed. He’d be fine, and there were enough blankets on the bed to heat him up quickly. Steve slipped into bed and huddled around himself.

Part of him wished he was in more of a mood to appreciate the beautiful bedroom he was in. Lots of plaid and carved furniture, exactly the type of place his parents would insist was dirty and filled with bugs. Steve knew he’d love it though, if he had the chance to.

It wasn’t so a much a decision of if he would drive home early by himself tomorrow, more so when. Robin clearly didn’t need a getaway driver and after that stunt he pulled with Eddie, Steve wasn’t sure how welcome he’d feel come sunrise.

Steve didn’t even know if Eddie would tell anyone. It’s not like the group would care that they were both men, but admitting a crush, or more than a crush, however subtly right after learning about a breakup? Robin was sweet enough to pull it off. Steve, maybe not.

At the very least, it felt like some sort of ending. Eddie’s reaction had been a definite Full Stop to any idea Steve might have had about his feelings being returned. He wasn’t sure he ever even thought they would be. He just couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Steve tried to convince himself that this was a good thing. That now he had to move on. He had no choice, especially if Eddie was back in Hawkins. He couldn’t avoid him forever, their paths would have to cross eventually. Steve wished they wouldn’t.

Steve buried his face in his pillow and pulled the blankets up over his head, closing his eyes. He’d have plenty of time to dissect everything all over again in his own head in the morning. If he was making the drive back again so soon, he needed some sleep.

Steve had just managed to coax himself into something close to sleep when he heard the front door of the cabin creak open. So Robin did come back, he thought. Maybe she’d be driving back with him after all. He followed her footsteps across the living area.

The sounds of shoes being kicked off and the stove being lit were welcome to his ears. The stairs squeaked, and the floor outside his room, before he heard his door open and feet shuffling across the floor. He pretended to be asleep as the bed behind him dipped.

Steve loved her, he did, but he couldn’t listen to her go on and on about Nancy right now, whether good or bad. They’d talk in the car tomorrow. The blankets rustled and pillows were shifted, before he heard a deep breath being taken.

“Steve?”

Steve’s eyes shot open. His own breath stalled in his chest, because it only now that he realised. That wasn’t Robin.

“Are you awake?” Eddie asked softly.

Steve barely allowed himself to breathe as he turned over in the bed. The room was dark, barely lit by the moon outside, but the outline of Eddie’s features was still unmistakable.

“Hey,” Steve said quietly, afraid if he spoke too loudly he might wake himself from whatever dream he was in.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered back. His expression was almost one of confusion or gentle uncertainty.

“It’s cold in here,” said Eddie when Steve didn't answer. “Lit the stove for you,”

“Thanks,” replied Steve dumbly.

Eddie hummed. His eyes landed on Steve’s hand, resting palm up on the bottom edge of the pillow.

Eddie slowly moved his own hand so his fingertips rested lightly in Steve’s palm.

“Oh,” Steve breathed. His heart thumped so hard he was sure Eddie must be able to hear it.

“Yeah…” said Eddie, just as softly.

“What-” Steve began, before Eddie cut him off.

“Can we wait?” he asked.

“Wait?” asked Steve. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighed.

“Can we wait until tomorrow to talk about it?” he said. “Can tonight just be…this?”

He gently ran his fingertips over Steve’s palm again

Steve nodded, giving a little ‘uh huh’ sound. Eddie gave him a sweet smile in return, still looking at their hands. They stayed like that for a while, Steve watching Eddie like he thought he was going to disappear while Eddie tapped his fingers soundlessly.

“You scare me, Steve,” said Eddie. Steve almost didn’t hear him, too caught up in watching how the movement of the moon highlighted the different lines of his face to hear the whisper.

“I do?” asked Steve. “Is that…good?”

Eddie shrugged.

“I think so. Stuff like this is supposed to scare you, I think,” said Eddie. “It’s supposed to feel….” Eddie took a breath and Steve watched his eyes move around as he searched for the words.

Steve thought he might wait forever for him to find them.

“It’s supposed to feel like a leap, right?” asked Eddie. “Like you need to trust your gut. It’s not supposed to be easy right away. You have to…want to earn it, I guess”

“And that’s how you feel?” Steve asked him, full of hope. “About me?”

Eddie took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” said Eddie simply. “When you…Outside, earlier, it was like…I don’t know, like an electric shock. But a good one. One I’d never felt before,”

Steve swallowed hard when Eddie took a pause.

“I didn’t know what was wrong with…Sara, that whole thing,” continued Eddie. “Why I wasn’t able to go be with her. But then, I felt that shock from you and I knew. Right away, it was like I just knew what I was missing,”

Steve took a shaky breath.

“I’m scared too,” Steve admitted. “Mostly that I’m dreaming, but, yeah, I’m….me too,”

Eddie laughed quietly at him, before sliding his fingers up to lace loosely with Steve’s.

“You’re not dreaming,” he whispered, squeezing his hand ever so gently.

“So you’ll still be here in the morning?” asked Steve. “When I wake up?”

He felt small suddenly, the vulnerability creeping up his spine again.

“Pinky swear,” said Eddie, shifting his hand again to hook their little fingers together.

Steve smiled.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” said Eddie again in a whisper. “Get some sleep,”

“Okay,” Steve whispered back.

Eddie shuffled an inch closer until their knees knocked together, and Steve felt his breath on their still joined hands.

Eddie smiled at Steve once more before closing his eyes and settling into the pillow. Steve settled too, the warmth of the stove fire finally reaching the room and leeching into the blankets around them. Eddie’s breathing evened out quickly, his lips slightly parted.

Steve hardly dared close his own eyes, afraid that if he blinked too hard Eddie would be gone. But the feeling of their lingering promise, their fingers still curled around each other, kept him grounded. Steve let sleep take him slowly.

The last thought before Steve drifted off was of everything he wanted to say to Eddie in the morning, all the promises he wanted to make. It felt like a beginning now, instead of an ending. Steve fell asleep feeling, in the very best way, absolutely terrified.

[myfictionaldreams]

Pretty Eyes // Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie was your best friend but you were undoubtedly in love with him. During one of Steve's house parties, you find yourself in bed with him which wasn't unusual, you were only hugging after all... until your lips are brushing against his.

A/N: I will be getting to the other requests that I have I promise, I’m just abosolutely in love with Eddie and needed to write for him again!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, tooth rotting fluff, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, drunken kissing, flirting, sexual tension, sharing a bed, first kiss, fingering, rough sex, mark (back scratching), praise kink, dirty talk, pet names, Eddie is a massive SIMP!

Words: 7.9k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 

Steve was hosting another house party as his parents were out and it was safe to say… you were thoroughly enjoying the free alcohol. In fact, you had enjoyed so much of the liquors that you collapsed onto the sofa face first, half hanging off so that your knuckles grazed the floor and dozed in and out of sleep.

This was where Eddie found you, a toothy grin gracing his face as he took in your position, shaking his head and chuckling to himself as he stepped around a partier to get to you, dropping down and sitting on the floor next to you.

There was a bottle of beer in your hand that was dangerously close to tipping over and spilling over the Harrington’s expensive cream carpet so he quickly eased it out of your grasp and onto the small table beside him. This caused you to jolt awake, eyelids were heavy as you opened them to look around, seeing Eddie sitting with his knees drawn up, the ripped holes of his jeans stretching to reveal his kneecaps.

You gave him a beaming smile, hand lifting to reach for him, settling on his shoulder as you exclaimed with a slur to your words, “I’ve been looking for you!” Eddie laughed, dimples deepening in his cheeks that had your body waking further, positioning yourself off of the sofa to be closer to him. Your best friend also moved forward so that he was now leaning his arm across the couch where you promptly lay your head, using it as a pillow whilst his other hand rested on your back, subconsciously stroking circles across the material of your dress.

From anyone else in the room, the view would be assumed that you were both in a very happy relationship if the casual touches and gleaming twinkle in each other's eyes, only looking at each other and no one else. Sadly, this was the wrong assumption, you were both ‘just friends’.

It may not be the same level of friendship as say you had with Steve or Robin, but you were both adamant about just being friends. Even if said friendship was everything that a relationship was, spending all of your spare time together, you would go to his shows and sit on the front row cheering him on, he would drive you to and from school, hugs that lasted too long and on the few occasions you fell asleep at his and waking in each other's arms, neither moving because it just felt so good. It was something you both cherished and therefore this made it hard to give up and develop into anything more, even though it was painfully clear to anyone watching that you both were desperate for something more, alas, this was not the case.

As you settled into the embrace, you looked into Eddie’s expressive brown, puppy dog eyes, continuing with your explanation as to how you’d ended up on the furniture. “You were there one minute and poof! You disappeared! I was looking for you everywhere and then Robin said you might be in here and…and I think I tripped or something and here I am, and look … I found you! Robin was right!”

“Good job sweetheart! Now if I do remember, I told you I was going for a piss and asked you to stay next to the fridge and what happened… you wondered off, I’ve been looking for you for half an hour”, he playfully flicked the tip of your nose as the distant memory of him telling you to stay put came into your thoughts. “Are you having a good time?” he asked, leaning forward to kiss your cheek casually, except a kiss on the cheek was never casual for him, his lips touching leaving a warm tingle against your cheek as he hovered there for a second too long for just a friend.

“I’m having the best time! Everything is so loud and the rooms spinning around you so the party must be getting crazy and now I’ve found you again, everything is even better!” With your enthusiasm and excitement, you shifted on the couch, causing your knee-length dress to ride up higher up your thighs, to a point of near exposure.

Eddie noticed, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip, something you watched with fascination but then was distracted as the warmth of his hand on your back disappeared but that was only so he could pull your dress back down over your thighs, protecting your modesty. “My knight in shining armour”, you teased him, fingers playing with the ends of his wavy hair that settled on his shoulders.

“Yes, and this is why you’re wearing my shorts under your dress”, he chastised, returning his fingers to your upper back, in big circles that lulled you into a peaceful state. For a moment you closed your eyes, tilting your head to nuzzle into his arm further. Eddie moved closer to he was only a couple of inches away from your face, “Hey, you aren’t going to sleep on me, are you? Maybe it’s time we go”.

Your features shifted into a frown, displeased with his statement as you began to whine, “No, I don’t want to go, I wanna stay here with you”.

Eddie’s ringed fingers stroked over your cheek, trying to rouse you more from falling asleep fully, “Angel, your eyes aren’t even open”. To try and prove your point, you forced your eyes open, wide and stared at him until he laughed but then he looked around, noticing that there were fewer people than before, “I think the party’s starting to come to an end anyway so think’s its time we get going”.

Your eyebrows furrowed, being more whinier than usual in your drunken state, “I can’t be bothered to go, I live on the other side of town and it’s just too far away Eddie, I don’t want to leave!”

Once again, Eddie is laughing, the noise momentarily distracting you from his quest to leave but as he begins to shift onto his knees, you were once again frowning until he explained, “Sweetheart, we’re staying here, remember? Steve’s got a spare room for us upstairs.”

“He does!?”, you say with excitement, finally finding the energy and motivation to actually look awake now.

“Yeah! So get your butt up!”

This was easier said than done as your head spun making you feel a little nauseous, eyes rolling as you sat up with Eddie’s help and luckily he was slow to move, making sure you got your bearings before standing.

“Are you guys going already?! But who am I supposed to watch the sunrise with?”, Robin suddenly was in your line of vision, looking sadly between you and Eddie who had his arm supporting your weight as you held onto his neck. In the back of your mind, you vaguely remembered agreeing whilst sober that you’d join your friends in watching the sunrise but that definitely wasn’t happening anymore.

“Sorry, this one needs to go to bed”, Eddie explained, continuing to move past her and a few other remaining partiers as he half-carried you up the stairs to the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. You were aware that you were leaning into his touch more than you actually needed to but he just smelled so good, cigarettes, beer and the aftershave you’d bought him for his birthday.

However, as soon as you saw the bed, you’re stumbling out of his arms and collapsing face first into the soft sheets, bouncing a few times from the mattress before settling. Eddie smiled, shrugging off his denim jacket and placing it onto the bags you’d both bought with the attention to stay.

“Sweetheart?” he asked, checking to see if you were awake or not as he switched on the lamp next to the bed. When you didn’t respond he moved to sit at your feet, taking off your shoes and socks one at a time, making sure you were comfortable enough to sleep.

You were still awake but were still trying to adjust and wait for the world to stop spinning before turning onto your back to look at Eddie as he chucked your shoes to join the rest of your stuff. From the twist of positions, your bra began to dig into your ribs, rubbing uncomfortably against your skin and instead of asking for a change of clothes, you tiredly announced, “My bra’s uncomfortable”.

In the low light, you could see Eddie’s cheeks blush pink before he tried to hide it by going over to both of your bags. He routed through your clothes and couldn’t figure out what was pyjamas and what was your outfit for the morning so he gave up and pulled out a spare shirt of his, walking over and dropping it into your lap, “it’ll be more comfortable than your dress”.

“Thank you”, you say sweetly, sitting up again with a groan and without thinking, reaching behind your head to try and undo the zipper of your dress. Eddie’s eyes widened and he quickly turned on the spot to face the wall, giving you some privacy but then you let out a frustrated grunt and then he felt a small tap on the centre of his back. Turning back to face you, he found that you’d stood from the bed and were looking up at him with an annoyed expression. “I can’t undo the zipper, can you help me pretty please?”

You turned on the spot, showing him your back with the offensive zip. Eddie didn’t answer, swallowing harshly as he began to lift his fingers, easily dragging the zip all the way down to your lower back. It wasn’t the first time seeing this much of your skin, having changed in the same room before but it felt oddly intimate to be the one doing it. He even contemplated undoing the clasp of your bra as he knew you wanted it off but he clenched his fist and turned back around.

Over his shoulder, he could hear you muttering your thanks and then your dress fell to the floor, followed by a relieved gasp as he assumed you’d removed your bra. “That's so much better, you can turn around by the way”, you say as you sit down. Eddie does just that and is blessed with the sight of you sitting in his old Iron Maiden shirt and shorts that you’d been wearing underneath the dress.

You were unaware of the effect you were having on him as you swayed drunkenly on the spot, wiping your tired eyes and smudging your makeup. “You want me to get your make-up remover for you?”, he asks and you nod with a thankful smile.

Eddie watched painfully at your attempt to remove your make-up, and eventually succumbed, “Let me, Angel”, he took the wipe from your hand and knelt down, placing one hand under your chin to keep you in place as he carefully began to remove your make-up.

You loved this side of Eddie, outside of the metal music, the hyperactive DnD player, was the soft, kind-hearted best friend that had captured your heart from the moment you both met. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was something else that compelled you to whisper, “Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

Eddie’s wiping hand paused, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip again as his brown eyes danced between looking at both of yours and then he chuckled, knocking your cin up slightly as he stood, ignoring your compliment, “All done, still as beautiful as ever, move up the bed, I’m going to get you a glass of water”.

You did as instructed, sitting up against the headboard as you watched him leave. Looking down at your shirt, you lifted the material at the neck and took a deep breath, smelling his natural scent that made your heart flutter. Eddie returned a few minutes later with two glasses of water, handing you one and even though you didn’t want to drink it, feeling too tired, Eddie made sure that you did, hoping it would help your inevitable hangover in the morning.

As you drank, he started to arrange his makeshift bed on the floor as Steve had given him a couple of extra pillows and blankets to get comfy next to you. Next, he removed his jeans, leaving him in his shirt and boxers, a sight you’d seen many times before but it didn’t stop you from warming throughout your body, feeling like you shouldn’t be staring at his spare legs, seeing the occasional tattoo’s that no one knew about on his calf.

“What are you doing down over there? The bed’s big enough for the two of us”, you tapped on the space next to you before reaching to clumsily place your empty glass onto the bedside table, smiling proudly when it didn’t fall off and smash.

“Fine, but if you throw up on me, I’m not going to be happy”, Eddie joked, stumbling over to the bed and jumping onto the mattress face first with enough force that you jumped up and down.

You laugh as you shuffle to a lying position, facing towards him, watching as he got comfortable with his arms pushing beneath his pillow as he looked towards you with his hair completely covering his face. Your fingers seemed to be working of their own accord as they drifted towards his wavy hair, brushing it back so that you could see his resting face, eyes closed, he looked peaceful.

“Why are you so far away?”, you asked with a hint of humour, biting your lip as he opened one eye to look at you, waiting an anxious second before quickly hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer, closing the gap between the two of you.

“Better?” he asked, his voice now husky with exhaustion.

“Much better, thank you”, you say, shuffling into a comfortable position as the two of you seemed to naturally shape together.

You and Eddie were now facing each other, one of your legs was placed between his, the warm naked skin of each other's calves rubbing together, and one of his arms were locked around your waist, holding you tight to his chest where your hands were resting.

“Goodnight”, the two of you spoke at the same time, eyes closing.

You weren’t sure how much time passed but sleep didn’t seem to come as easily as you thought and it felt like there was an invisible cord in your gut that was pulling you closer to Eddie, so you listened to the instincts and opened your eyes to look at him. Except, it seemed you weren’t the only one to feel this way as you found Eddie’s wonderful brown eyes already open and looking at you.

The two of you shyly smiled having caught each other looking.

“Go to sleep Sweetheart”, Eddie encouraged, dipping his head and kissing your cheek, almost near the corner of your mouth. You moved closer on instinct until you could feel his breath fanning across your face and didn’t stop until your lips rested against his chin, finding the touch comforting.

Neither of you knew who it was who shifted, maybe you were naturally drawn higher or Eddie lower but then your lips were on the corner of his mouth. You could feel the crease of the corner of his lips against yours that began to pout with a delicate little kiss.

Then your head tilted and you kissed again, your mouth covering half of his now as you both didn’t seem to be breathing or thinking, every muscle throughout your body feeling like there were no bones supporting your structures, like you were melting into the bed.

The next kiss, the two of you turned in unison, mouth meeting mouth directly, pushing delicately together still both unsure of each other's actions.

Eddie was the first to press firmer into the kiss, his ringed fingers clenching his shirt that you wore as he released the breath he was holding, the air fanning across your cheek. It was your turn to reciprocate the kiss, one after another you gave him close-mouthed issues, your fingers lifting to feel the soft skin of his cheek, leg that was slotted between his also shifting higher.

This seemed to shake Eddie out of what was happening as he pulled back an inch, opening his eyes to see your lips still pursed from the kisses he’d been desperately enjoying. But you’d both been drinking and even though this was something he wanted more than anything, he wouldn’t forgive himself if this continued any further.

Giving one last kiss to your temple, Eddie’s husky voice whispered, “Go to sleep, Sweetheart”.

Maybe it was the fear of the reality of looking at Eddie after kissing him or potentially the alcohol but you didn’t open your eyes again and before long your breaths had evened out and your hands fell from his face and onto the space of bed between your bodies as sleep consumed you.

In the morning, Steve barged into the room with a plate full of slices of toast, having stayed up for the sunrise, he was offering food to all the guests before finally going to bed. You and Eddie jolted, sleepily accepting the food and munching in natural silence.

“How are you feeling?” the metal head asked, his stomach feeling heavy with nerves waiting for your response.

Shrugging your shoulders, you swallowed your mouthful of food, “ok, I have a little bit of a headache but I’m sure that’ll go in a bit. Why? Was I really drunk last night? I don’t really remember anything after beer pong” you admitted, hoping that you hadn’t done anything embarrassing. Eddie’s face almost flinched at your revelation and it had you putting down your food, “what… did I do something bad?” you asked worriedly.

Eddie shook his head causing his curls to bounce, “No you didn’t do anything embarrassing, you were absolutely fine, didn’t make the sun rise though”, he tried to smile through the realisation that you didn’t remember anything, more specifically the kiss. He tried to brush off his disappointment, but couldn’t deny how much he wished that everything was different.

Eddie dropped you off at home an hour later, and both of you decided to use today to recover from the heavy drinking and then meet up again tomorrow to do whatever came to mind.

As soon as you saw your best, you dropped onto it and fell asleep for a couple more hours, waking in the early afternoon and feeling a lot more refreshed. The hours ticked and you spent your time showering and generally cleaning up, before Robin called you on the house phone, wanting to discuss last night and she was saddened to hear that you didn’t remember a lot of it.

“Really? I was hoping you would have some gossip to tell your best buddy”, she sighed dramatically on the other end of the phone.

You frowned, twirling the phone lead in your fingers as you asked, “What do you mean gossip? Eddie said I didn’t do anyone embarrassing”. Your friend seemed to go quiet which was very unlike her and you knew something was wrong, “Robin please tell me what I’ve done”.

“It’s not that you did anything embarrassing, it’s just that um… Well… Steve said that when he walked in on you two this morning, you both looked pretty cosy. You were in his clothes, his arms were around you… Steve was hoping there was something to read between the lines”.

You let out a relieved sigh, drunk you hadn’t accidentally done something, it was just the usual gossip that seemed to be discussed every time anyone saw you and Eddie together. “Oh, that! That was nothing, just two friends sharing a bed and being com…fortable…”, your words fizzled out as something seemed to come back to you.

Now that you were actually having to think about specifics, little flashes of the night came back to you. Eddie making you laugh as he found you on the sofa, then nothing, and then you remembered drinking a glass of water and being proud that the glass didn’t fall onto the floor, and then nothing… but then… your lips… you’d definitely kissed someone last night… in the bed that you woke up in with Eddie.

Eddie… You’d kissed Eddie last night, on the mouth…with your mouth… in a more than friendly way.

“Hey? Are you there?”, Robin asked as you stood in silence, staring at a crack in the wallpaper on the wall.

“Sorry, can I call you back?”, you didn’t give her time to answer as you placed the phone back on the receiver.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest, finding it even difficult to swallow but you weren’t sure if it was due to anxiety or excitement. But then, why didn’t Eddie say anything this morning? It was clear that he hadn’t been as drunk as you and remembered everything from the night before so why wouldn’t he say anything?

Before you overthink it, you were pulling on your sneakers and were out of the door, walking with a purpose, the only thing you were sure of was that you needed to get to Eddies and talk to him, even though he lived a 20-minute walk away which involved going through the scary area of the woods, you didn’t care for once.

The length of the trek gave you a little bit of time to really digest what had happened. Of course, you’d wanted something to blossom between you and Eddie for as long as you could remember but always coward out of it at the last second. But now, there was no way you were letting this go, you weren’t even sure what to say to him, the adrenaline that was pumping through your veins was deciding what to do as you continued on, the sun beginning to set through the treeline as the evening hours of the day passed.

Finally, you arrived at the trailer park, with sweat glistening over your face with the speed that you had walked but your arms and legs were chilled due to the cooler evenings due to the time of year, regretting not putting on a jacket before leaving but it was way too late for that as Eddie’s trailer was in your eyeline.

His Uncles truck wasn’t outside so you were thankful for him potentially being at work so he didn’t have to witness this conversation.

Stepping up to the porch door which was closest to Eddie's bedroom, out of breath, wiping the sweat from your forehead, you banged on the door hard as you could hear Eddie listening to his music loudly. What were you even going to say? SHIT, you thought, SHIT SHIT SHIT, maybe you shouldn’t have come over, maybe there was still time to turn back and run away.

But this was not the case as the door handle turned and Eddie opened the front door, his hair in a low ponytail, wearing a Judas Priest t-shirt and his usual ripped black jeans, his face immediately turning into a frown with worry as he saw you at his doorstep. “Sweetheart? What are you doing here? Are you ok? Did you… did you walk here?! Through the woods? You should have called me I would have picked you up, what’s wrong- has something happened?”

Eddie was evidently panicking, you never just turned up on his doorstep, if you wanted to see him, you’d usually call so he could drive and pick you up so a million possibilities were currently going through his head. He stepped out onto the porch, his hands lifting to your shoulders, eyes searching your face and then your arms and legs for any signs of injuries.

Your mouth opened and closed with no idea as to what to say, you could say you were ok and wanted to talk, or maybe bottle it completely and say you wanted to see him. However, neither of these options was what you decided on in the end as you suddenly blurted out, “We kissed!” Eddie’s entire body seemed to freeze, his eyes wide with uncertainty so you continued to babble, “I kissed you on the mouth, with my mouth, we kissed each other, Eddie”.

Finally, he spoke as he said in a low voice, “Yeah, we did”. He let go of your shoulders and you watched him seem to contemplate something for a minute as he wiped a stressed hand over his face before looking at you with a bit more confidence, “Would you like a beer?”

“Uh…no thanks”.

“Ok, well I do so please come in and make yourself at home”, he held the door open for you before shutting it gently and walking through the kitchen/living room area to the fridge, pulling out a beer and drinking half of it before placing it on to countertop, turning to look at you, leaning against the side as he didn’t know what to say.

You stood steps away, suddenly feeling light like a deer in headlights, fingers nervously twisting together due to habit and realising that you were doing it, you shook them. Eddie also noticed, he always noticed everything about you and hated that you were nervous about this sort of conversation, it was one of the reasons he hadn’t told you.

Holding out his hand, he softly said, “Come here, Sweetheart”.

You were thankful for this, closing the gap between the two of you instantly and grasping his hand, feeling him squeeze it and pull you close so that you now stood between his legs and you instantly felt at ease, his touch always seemed to do that. “I don’t really know what to say now I’m here, I remembered what happened and came straight here in a panic, maybe you regretted it or-”

“I’d never regret kissing you”, he responded honestly. Your eyes looked up into his, seeing the sincerity there as his thumb brushed against the back of the hand that he held. The way he was looking at you, like he always did, with the look he only saved for you that made you feel warm and safe and happy.

“I want to do it again”, you admitted under your breath, feeling like there was nothing in the world that mattered more than this conversation, that crossing between friends and more.

Eddie doesn’t say anything in response, he just simply lifts up the hand that was at his side and with his knuckles, he grazed down your cheek with a familiar but intimate touch and as he began leaning forward, you knew his answer.

And yet, when his breath was graced over your lips, you couldn’t help but say, “Eddie, you’re my best friend”.

He paused, a hairbreadth away from your face, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours as he whispered, “You’re my best friend too”.

“I… I don’t think I want to just be your best friend anymore”.

This was all the confirmation that Eddie needed to press his lips and body against yours, standing away from the countertop, both hands cupping your cheeks so that you could feel the coolness of his rings. Your hands had settled on his chest, gripping his shirt for dear life, scared that if you let go, he might disappear.

The kiss deepened almost immediately, both of you leaning into each other as closely as you could, heads tilting and mouths opening further. You moaned as Eddie’s tongue brushed against your upper lip and you willingly reciprocated the touch, his taste bursting over your tongue, most of the beer he’d just drank but something else that was unique to him and you absolutely craved more.

Eddie was feeling just as overwhelmed and yet, thoroughly relieved that this was happening. He had been kicking himself all day having not spoken to you about it before dropping you home and had been back and forth to the phone, dialling your home phone before stopping at the last digit as he lost his confidence. So to see you standing at his door, apart from the initial panic, there was only relief that remained, already deciding that if you weren’t going to mention it, he would reveal what had happened.

But now, here you both were two best friends, finally being able to touch each other the way you’d both been so desperate to do.

Finally decided that Eddie wasn’t going anywhere, your grasp on his shirt loosened so that you could stroke down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt, unsure whether you should dip beneath to feel him further.

It seemed like Eddie was in the same situation as one of his hands was now holding your hip, his fingertips teasing along the edge of your t-shirt. Pulling away from the kiss, Eddie leaned his forehead against yours, giving you both a moment to catch your breaths.

This was where you made the brave decision to take matters into your own hands by taking a step back. Eddie frowned slightly but then you took his hand in yours and began pulling him towards his bedroom and his face immediately brightened, biting his lip as he followed after you.

Through all the times of imagining this exact situation, you’d thought maybe you would be nervous but all that you felt was excitement and anticipation which only fueled your confidence as you pushed Eddie onto his bed and then straddled his lap. His hands settled on your waist, pulling you close as you both began kissing again. Your fingers cupped his jaw, feeling the little prickles of his stubble starting to grow from now shaving today, and then you moved further around his neck to his hair, pulling out the elastic band so you could run your fingers through it.

He groaned at the touch, his skilful fingers now moving beneath your t-shirt, stroking the soft skin of your hips and back, whilst also pulling your hips down so that you could feel the evidence of his arousal. You gasped into his mouth at feeling how hard he was and your veins seemed to hum knowing that it was you who had caused this. Your panties were just as wet as you ground your hips now, rolling them against his to stimulate the two of you.

Dropping your hands to reach over his shoulders, you began to pull on his shirt, needing the material off of his body and thankfully, he soon understood your request and pulled it up and over his head, throwing it to the floor. Before kissing him again, you looked down at his chest, something you had seen countless times but now you could actually run your fingers down it, nails scratching lightly over the sprinkling of dark hair in the centre that trailed all the way down to a thin strip that disappeared below his belt.

Your mouth watered at the sight but then his mouth was back on yours, hungrily moving, tongues dancing together, teeth scraping against lips, he was insatiable. You wanted more of him, you wanted everything he had to offer, and you needed to make him feel good, there were so many options but with your arousal and desperation, you just knew you wanted him now.

Pulling back from the kiss once more, Eddie began to taste the skin across your neck, open-mouth kisses along the sensitive areas, nipping on certain parts where you moaned louder. “Eddie that feels so good”.

Eddie hummed at your desperate little whines, needing to hear more of them so without giving you any warning, he placed an arm around your waist and turned the two of you so that you now lay across his bed and he hovered above you. Looking up with wide eyes,  Eddie dipped his head to kiss you once, twice and then his fingers hovered over your short buttons, undoing them with ease. You helped him to pull them down with your underwear, Eddie making quick work to pull your shoes off, and then reached for the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head and onto the growing pile of clothes.

Lying back onto his bed, you now realised just how exposed you were, having gone without a bra today because you had intended on lounging around the house so you were completely nude, save for your white trainer socks. Eddie’s eyes were wide as he looked over your body, to the areas he hadn’t seen before and he almost came right then and there as he groaned, “You’re so fucking beautiful Angel”.

He crawled over your body to peck your lips, then trailed lower, leaving sweet kisses on his journey, over your collarbones, nipping with his teeth to tease and then stopped at your sternum, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes, his hair shadowing his face. With his hand, he cupped one of your breasts, squeezing the tissue and holding it in place for this tongue to stroke across your perked nipple, the sensation of warmth blooming instantly in your abdomen.

“Ed-Eddie”, your fingers delved into his thick longs, holding him in place as he moved from one breast to the other, doing something he had been desperate to do for so long.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long, Sweetheart”, as he finished speaking, he sucked your right nipple into his mouth and then flattened his tongue against the skin. Your back arched into the touch, completely melting into him and his distracting mouth, only then realising that one of his hands was moving lower, grazing over your navel, your bikini line and over your mound, stopping just before moving any further.

“Please Eddie, don’t stop, I want you to touch me”, you sounded desperate but you didn’t care, feeling elated with need.

“I’ve got you, Sweetheart”, he reassured, moving back to hover over your face, making sure he could see your face as he finally stroked his rough fingertip against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet, is that just for me?”, he asked with an air of arrogance as of course, he knew this was just for him. You couldn’t form the words as all you could think about were his skilful fingers so you frantically nodded your head, your hands still in his hair, squeezing tighter onto the strands as he idly explored between your legs.

Eddie rested his other arm next to your face, leaning his weight onto it as he continued to stare down at you, watching every gasp and show of pleasure as he circled your bundle of nerves, feeling your hips rotating with his moves, it was a sight he wanted to remember for the rest of his life.

As he applied a little bit more pressure, you arched your back in euphoria, your neck now more exposed and Eddie couldn’t help himself and began to leave open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, tasting your skin.

Your fingers relented on their grip on his hair, wishing to instead feel any part of his body, so you reached over his shoulders, grabbing the top of his back, your nails scratching against the skin to hold him there. Eddie groaned deeply in his chest at feeling you mark his body, enjoying the slight sting of pain that came from your scratches.

“Eddie! I want you”, you whined as he continued to tease your entrance, not pushing in just yet but just feeling every part of your cunt.

He once again is hovering over your mouth, “Yeah?” he smirked, his eyes impossibly dark with how wide his pupils were, “I want you too”, he admits, “but I wanna hear your pretty moans first”. Finally, he slipped his middle finger into your soaking hole and your eyes rolled back at getting to feel more of him, chest bumping up into his.

Eddie is completely crowding you into the bed, every part of your body seemed to be touching his as he knelt over you, his finger moving in and out of you, coated in your juices before adding a second finger, his thumb brushing back and forth over your throbbing clit. Clearly, his guitar playing had really given him more skills in other departments because the way he was coaxing you closer to your orgasm at record speed was mind-blowing, you couldn’t even think of words to praise and beg him, just simply held onto him, accepted his kisses and let the pleasure pulse through your body.

“That’s it, Angel, you’re doing so good for me”, he whispered against your cheek as you came, juices soaking his fingers as he stroked against your g-spot until your walls stopped fluttering and gently eased them out. You watched with a blissed expression as he lifted them to his mouth, sucking his fingers and moaning, “You taste so fucking good, and you’re just so pretty when you cum”, his praises made you mewl and pussy clench.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, pulling him down for another kiss, planning on distracting him as your hands explored his chest again, moving lower until you could feel his belt, fumbling to undo it with unsteady fingers. Then you were pushing the material over his hips and thankfully he pushed them lower with his boxers, kicking them off his ankles until he was also completely nude.

This gave you the perfect path to wrap your hand around his cock, pumping it a few times and you were presented with the perfect gift of hearing his moaning. He was bigger than you thought, surprised that he hadn’t boasted about his size before to boost his ego. The skin was soft and warm but his shaft was hard and throbbing, veins bulging along the length as your fingers squeezed as you moved up and down.

“I’ve always wanted to do this too”, you admitted as he closed his eyes, savouring your touch. “Making you moan and throb in my hand”, this made his groan even louder as your unfiltered statement.

You could feel a bead of precum dripping from the tip and before you could spread it around with your thumb, Eddie was easing your hand away from his cock and up to rest above your head, his body beginning to position between yours as lust and excitement hummed in both of your veins.

“Wait Eddie - do you have any condoms? I’m not on any birth control”, you thankfully remembered, sitting up slightly and watching Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Oh shit, yeah hang on, I’ve got one for emergency”, he clumsily lay across your body to reach into his bedside drawer, fumbling through numerous objects before holding up a condom wrapper like it was his pride and joy. “Ah ha! Knew there was one somewhere”, he muttered to himself as he sat back on his heels, tearing the wrapper with his teeth, discarding the foil and then holding the tip of the condom and rolling it down his shaft. Even though it was a normal thing to do, you couldn’t deny, seeing Eddie touching himself whilst rolling in the condom had your pussy clenching and knowing that he was putting it on just to fuck you.

“Come here, big boy”, you say with a grin, holding out your arms for him to crawl back into which he did eagerly but this time he held both of your wrists in one of his hands, above your head, whilst the other helped to position his tip at your hole.

Now there were a little bit of nerves bubbling in your stomach as you looked up at Eddie, who you had lusted over for so long, actually about to fuck you. It seemed he had similar thoughts as he gave you a small smile before leaning down and capturing your lips with his, distracting you from the feelings and replacing them with overwhelming need instead.

Your hips moved closer to his as he finally began to push in, you both gasp, breaking the kiss, foreheads resting against each other, both enjoying the moment but he also made sure to check that you weren’t in any pain as inch after inch slipped into your cunt.

You felt so discomfort though, your overwhelming arousal helping to make it even more enjoyable as you praised, “Feels so fucking good Eddie”.

“Shit!” he grunted as he was fully inside of you now, “you’re going to make me addicted to feeling this and hearing those perfect moans”. He gave you a moment to adjust to his size and then began to do shallow thrusts, building in momentum and depth until you were rolling your hips to try and meet his thrusts did he not hold back.

Eddie fucked you with deep, fast thrusts that had you clawing onto his chest and back for something to hold onto as his face nuzzled into your neck to suck and kiss the sensitive skin. Neither of you said anything other than each other's names, didn’t need to as you both held onto each other, regretting all of the time you’d wasted.

As the tightening in your core intensified you really tried to take in every single detail. The feeling of his thick, cool, metal rings on his fingers that were linked through yours, his freshly-washed, sandalwood hair wash that wafted into your nose where his hair brushed against your cheek, his puffy full lips against your jaw, his chain necklace brushing against your collar bines your nipples brushing against his chest. Then there was below the waist, your thighs being held up by his hairy ones and his cock that was fucking into you causing never-ending pleasure.

It was all you’d ever hoped for as you quickly had time to gasp, “Eddie, your gonna make me cum, I’m so close”.

The bed squeaked with the momentum of his fucking as he increased his speed and Eddie let go of your hands but only so he could hold onto one of your thighs, pushing it further against your chest. His other hand moved to your jaw, holding your head in place as he once again kissed you sloppily, tongues twisting together as he groaned in the back of his throat.

You cried out Eddie’s name against his lips as you came, pussy walls contracting in flutters around his cock and the sensation was too much for him to cope with as he snapped his hips a few times, shouting, “Shit- Sweetheart, yes!” as he too came, his seed filling the condom as he rocked into you both until both orgasms had subsided.

You both stayed like that for a couple of minutes as he lazily kissed along your shoulder before you tilted your head to capture his mouth a few times and then pulled away so he could get up and dispose of his condom. Watching him with an elated grin, your eyes travelled the length of his body as he stood and walked out to the bathroom but you were more concentrating on his back that was covered in your scratches.

Biting your lip to hide the grin, you couldn’t believe that it was actually you leaving those marks on his body, feeling so giddy you could scream but instead, you took a deep breath and decided to sit up yourself, reaching for the closest articles of clothing which just so happen to be Eddie’s shirt and boxers.

Eddie returned a couple of minutes later, completely nude and looking thoroughly prideful as he stopped in the doorway, checking you out just as much as you’d done to him.

“What?” you asked with a shy smile, you were covered now so you weren’t entirely sure what he was staring at.

“You look well and truly fucked, Sweetheart”, he commented, moving over to his drawers to find some new clothes to wear which were just another plain t-shirt and fresh boxers.

“You’re one to talk, have you seen your back?” you teased, watching as he looked into the mirror behind his treasured guitar, turning so he could look over his shoulder and at the marks you’d left on his back. His grin spread cheekily across his face, his dimples appearing as he looked back at you.

“I think I could get used to seeing this”, he admitted with an affectionate tone.

As Eddie got changed into his new clothes, you moved to use the bathroom and then joined him in the living room where he was sat on the couch with the TV on in the background with his opened beer and a fresh one for you. You thanked him as you sat, naturally both reaching for each other as you lift your legs over his lap, his hands massaging your thighs as you both talked more than watch what was on the screen.

Eddie finished the last of his beer and you watched with fascination, your arm over his shoulder, stroking the hair that rested there as you wondered out loud, “Have I ever told you how pretty your eyes are?”

He laughs, placing the empty glass onto the table in front of you both before leaning back and looking at you, “You have actually, you told me last night but I thought it was just a drunken comment”.

“No, it definitely isn’t a drunken thing, it’s an always thing, you’re quite the pretty boy Munson”.

“Hmm, your flattery is getting your everywhere with me, Sweetheart”, he leaned in to start kissing you again, distracting the both of you from the noise of the truck pulling up outside.

You weren’t aware Eddie’s Uncle had returned until he was walking through the door and you both rushed to your feet, with a gap between you and beer bottles hiding behind your back but, that was the least of your worries.

“Hi Mr Munson”, you say in a cheerful tone like you always did. Wayne always loved having you around as he often remarked that you ‘Kept Eddie out of trouble’.

Wayne waved tiredly at the two of you having returned home from work, “Hey kids uh-”. He seemed to stop, actually taking you both in, other than the fact he knew there were beers behind your backs that he knew you both stole and drank but, it was more the dishevelled looks, twinkling eyes and swollen mouths, as well as your obvious choice of clothing… none of which were yours.

“Finally…”, he grunted at the realisation you both had seemed to move on from just being friends. Your face warmed as Eddie rubbed the back of his neck as Wayne kicked the door closed and shrugged his jacket off.

“Uh yeah, I feel like we have some explaining to do”, Eddie awkwardly said and you just wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

Thankfully Wayne held up his hands, “Don’t wanna know kid, just want you both to be happy and uh… please use protection,  I don’t need any baby Munson’s running around here”.

“Oh my god”, Eddie’s cheeks were bright red as he looked anywhere that wasn’t his Uncle who muttered about having a shower, leaving you and Eddie to laugh and fall back onto the couch into the same position as before, not needing to hide anything now.

“If you think his reaction was embarrassing, could you imagine what all of our friends’ are going to be like?” you say with a shiver.

Eddie audibly groaned, dropping his head back whilst looking at you from the corner of his eyes, “Oh, this is just going to be a whole lot of fun and games, Sweetheart”.

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

Steve comes home from his first post-injury workout drenched in sweat and throws himself onto the sofa on his back. Robin winces as she watches him go, raising an eyebrow. 

“That bad?” She asks, to which Steve groans in response.

“They want me to wear a bubble.” Steve responds, digs his hand around inside the gym bag still attached to his side and lifts out the full face mask.

“Wouldn’t be the worst idea, protect your face at least.” Robin observes, only to be met by a glare from Steve. His facial expressions are making a triumphant return as he regains more control over his face as the wound heals, and he’s taking full advantage of his bitchy looks whenever he can.

“Says the one not blowing hot air back into their own face as they work out.” He grumbles, flopping back and dropping the mask onto his stomach. “Everything hurts. You’d think I’ve been out for months, not just a few weeks.”

“How’s the headache?” Robin predicts, and Steve gives her another look before he sighs. 

“It’s not bad, don’t overreact. It’s not the concussion.” He insists, ignores the way her eyebrow rises again and instead pushes himself up again. “I’m going to shower,” Steve announces, making a quick escape from Robin.

It’s not exactly that he’s lying, because he’s not. He doesn’t think anything he’s feeling is concussion-related. The soreness in his muscles is from suddenly being weighed down with his hockey gear again, after weeks without. It’s a similar feeling to the first workout of the pre-season. The headache is a little trickier to convince everyone around, so he’d avoided mentioning it and done his best to hide it at the rink. It’s no surprise Robin can just tell he has one, though.

He lets steam fill the bathroom before he steps under water so hot his skin turns pink. He lets the shower spray target the middle of his back, shifts so it settles between his shoulder blades, and rests his forehead against the cool tiles in front of him.

Eventually, he emerges back into the apartment in sweatpants, his hair air drying. Robin is setting a cup of hot tea down on the coffee table, her own tucked onto an end table beside her on the sofa. Steve smiles softly and mumbles his appreciation as he sits and takes a sip.

As he drains the cup, the headache eases a bit and he feels a bit more human than he had after returning home from his workout. 

“You got mail from your parents today,” Robin eventually offers over the New Girl re-run neither of them are particularly paying attention to but have on for familiar background noise. Steve just grunts, uninterested, and instead busies himself checking any messages he may have missed from people he actually cares to give the time of day. 

Dustin had demanded a “family dinner,” which Steve agrees to and warns Robin when to expect a full house. Max, traveling with the Blackhawks for a game tomorrow night, had sent him a detailed threat to not push himself too hard while working out. He responds with a video clip the trainer had taken of Steve nailing a series of wrist shots.

Steve tries hard not to be too disappointed that he hadn’t heard from Eddie. They’d texted about their plans for the day, Steve knew Eddie had said he’d be spending the day in his studio working on a few new tracks he was putting together. Still, though, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping he’d have found a text or two from the other in the time he hadn’t been looking at his phone, something that was quickly becoming a standard for the pair.

Biting back his pride, he decides to send the first text, figuring the other will answer whenever they’re wrapping up in the studio.

Steve: Hope you’re having a good studio session.

After a long few moments, Steve can’t help the little sigh he lets out as he buries himself into the throw pillows filling out the sofa beside him. Robin nudges him with a foot, eyebrow raised, and he shrugs back at her, turning his attention to the television. It isn’t long before he zones out, though, thinking and overthinking.

His injury has given him a lot of time to think about a lot of things; primarily what landed him off the ice. He’s only mentioned it to Robin, but he has been considering coming out to his coaching staff and league officials to give background on what seems like an otherwise unprovoked violent streak from Billy Hargrove. Steve learned, in the days he spent in LA after the attack on the ice, Billy had taken to calling him names and slurs with press and on social media. The trash talking had landed him another fine from the league, but it wasn’t slowing him down. It was more than enough to prove the attack was premeditated, if everyone who needed to know the background was read in on their history.

And while Billy was staying on the attack, his teammates were apparently squared up and ready to defend Steve in a way he probably should have expected but hadn’t seen coming. Each of the players who had gotten physically involved in fighting Billy after Steve had taken a stick to the face had made comments with press about how Hargrove plays dirty and mean. Several had also spoken out about Steve’s leadership and sportsmanship on and off the ice, throwing their support behind him through his recovery. 

Coming out to the league and his coaches also had the potential to alleviate some of the anxiety he was feeling around his personal life. There had always been concern about coming out, getting kicked off the ice and ending up without the one thing he knew best. Long before he’d joined the league, his father had impressed upon him that he would have to settle and make sacrifices if he wanted to stay with the sport, but Steve wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep his sexuality bottled up and hidden away from the public.

In large part, it was easy to place blame on Eddie. The rockstar blew into his life and changed his perspective on what it was like to be a public figure, out and proud. Steve knew their status didn’t translate equally. Sports fans were different from fans of a band; Steve had joined a team with supporters who would cheer him on so long as he wore their colors and made them proud. Eddie’s fans had sought him out, decided to listen to his music and support him on their own. But for Steve to see Eddie carrying on with his life, not having to hide any part of himself or worry about not posting certain photos from their days in LA on social media (because what if they looked too suspicious and got people talking and asking questions?) was what Steve longed for. 

Chicago was a pretty open-minded town; it’s why he and Robin had first moved to the city to begin with. But it still wasn’t a guarantee that everyone would continue to support the team if he did publicly come out. And Steve was working to reconcile that in his mind; to gauge how much he should even care about it. A part of him knew the greater majority wouldn’t give a shit as long as he still scored goals and played a clean, fair and exciting game whenever he hit the ice. But the thought of those few who might push back too hard and how it could impact his teammates - his friends - in the long term is still what ate away at him.

“I can hear how loud you’re thinking over there.” Robin eventually says while he’s deep in thought, and he shoots her a small smile in response. “Look, Steve, you have to do what you think is best for you. Who gives a shit about anyone else.” She says.

He wishes it was that easy. He knows it could be, but he cares too much about the fallout to stop overthinking. They fall back into silence again, until Robin eventually closes her laptop and leans close to press a gentle kiss to Steve’s hair.

“You’re the best at what you do and if people can’t see that around the fact that you like guys, then that’s their loss.” She says, gently, before excusing herself off to bed.

Steve lounges around in the living room for a while longer, before he turns off the tv, grabs a blanket and makes his way out onto the terrace. He wraps the sherpa around his shoulders and drops into one of the loungers out there, looking out toward the skyline. It’s cold, but not as cold as it’s been, and he’s always found comfort in the winter weather, anyway.

His phone buzzes, catching his attention, and he smiles softly at Eddie’s name. When he answers FaceTime, he’s immediately met by chaos. It sounds like three voices are talking over each other, Eddie’s closest to the phone, making a loud ‘shhh’ sound until everyone around him is silenced.

“Did you mean to call me?” Steve asks around a smile, and watches as Eddie’s face lights up as he draws his attention.

“I did!” He insists, though Steve isn’t entirely convinced. “Want to hear what the track I’m mixing right now?”

Steve raised his eyebrow, only half sure he knows what Eddie’s talking about, before he nods. “Let’s hear it.” He agrees.

“Told you,” Eddie hisses at someone just out of the camera’s frame; probably one of the Corroded Coffin boys. Eddie taps a few buttons below the phone, then a soft guitar tune starts playing. It’s not like anything Steve has ever heard from the band before, gentler and softer. Other instruments crash in, in a more typical Corroded Coffin sound, for what Steve assumes will be a chorus once there’s a vocal track, but it slows back to just a guitar for the next verse. Eddie pauses the song and lifts the phone up again. “Thoughts and opinions are encouraged.”

“It’s different.” Steve says, still a little in awe.

“But not in a bad way!” He hears Gareth’s voice from somewhere in Eddie’s studio, and Steve nods in agreement.

“I don’t think it’s in a bad way, either. Just different. It still sounds like you guys in that middle part, when all the instruments join in. But the guitar, that’s… it’s soft and sweet and gentle. It works nicely, not that I know anything about music,” Steve laughs, and Eddie gives him a little smile.

“I appreciate your opinion,” he says, seeming to inspect the screen. “Your face looks a little less colorful. How was practice?”

“Fine, I’m sore now, though.” Steve admits, shifts and cracks his back.

“Gross!” Jeff cries from somewhere around Eddie, and Steve can’t help but laugh again.

“You should get back to working, I’m gonna head to bed soon anyway. We can talk tomorrow?” Steve asks, and Eddie nods. 

“Night, Stevie.”

~~~~

He hangs up the FaceTime, steals a pizza roll off Jeff’s plate, and re-opens the notes app on his phone. Scanning over the rambling notes he’d made himself about how he imagined the song would work out, he starts a new paragraph.

And he stares at the blank line before him.

“You’ve composed, like, 4 tracks and you can’t come up with a single lyric for any of them?” Freak asks, takes a pull from a joint burning in an ashtray near the sofa, and blows the smoke out away from the group.

“Very helpful insight,” Eddie grumbles, and Jeff leans forward. 

“Do you want us to help? Like, do you have a theme for the songs, or is this just going to be your own little pet project?” He asks.

“Well, I guess it depends. If you want to drop a surprise EP or double album after the one we’re putting out, I’m probably going to need help. But if you’re cool with letting me sit on it, I can probably figure it out on my own.” Eddie offers.

Gareth twirls a drumstick between his fingers. “I think we let Eddie handle the love songs about Steve Harrington, and if he comes up with enough to make into something to drop, we drop them whenever he’s ready, and if not, we throw them onto the next album or whatever when he’s ready to release them.” 

Eddie sighs and drops his head back against the rest of his swivel chair. “Can we stop calling them love songs about Steve?”

“Guess you have extra incentive to write lyrics to them, then,” Freak teases, and Eddie groans back, making the other boys laugh.

It isn’t much longer before they all excuse themselves to the rooms they claimed around the house. Eddie spends a few extra hours in the studio, working on as many lyrics as his brain allows and even sorts out bridge for the song he’d played for Steve before he heads off to bed.

He isn’t surprised to wake up the next morning to a text from Steve, who routinely gets up hours before Eddie and is always the first to send a text wishing him a good day ahead.

Eddie: Go easy on yourself on the ice today, you were up too late listening to headbanger music.

It’s a while before he gets a response, which isn’t uncommon. They both have their own lives which responsibilities to get up to. But Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting not-so-patiently for Steve’s next response. Freak flew out this afternoon, heading back to visit family in Ohio, leaving Gareth and Jeff at Eddie’s. They’re playing video games in the living room when Eddie’s phone rings with Steve’s name and ID photo.

“Hey, how was today?” Eddie asks immediately, launching himself off the sofa and away from the boys and the noise from the television.

“Well, that’s part of why I’m calling,” Steve says, sounding a little out of breath and hair damp with sweat, glancing off camera before he flashes a charming smile down at Eddie. “What are you doing Tuesday?”

His brain short-wires for a second, thrown off course by the response. Is this Steve, asking him out on a date? That can’t be it, right? There’s no way, not with the back-and-forth they have going on. There would be more to it than that, and Steve seems like the kind of guy to give more than 4 days notice for a date that requires at least one party to travel several states. So Eddie does his best to quickly calm and compose himself, hoping he hasn’t taken an alarmingly long time to answer, before he responds. “I don’t know, what am I doing Tuesday?”

“I think you’re coming to watch the Blackhawks play the Predators in Nashville. I’m allowed to travel and suit up, but I probably won’t play just yet.” Steve is grinning, and Eddie can’t help but smile back.

“Hell yeah, I’ll be there!” He agrees, already pulling up the link to buy tickets for the game. “If I get shamed for wearing my Harrington jersey to a Preds game, you get to take the blame for me rooting against my home away from home.” Eddie teases, and Steve lets out a breathy laugh.

“Bring it on,” he challenges, finally seems to Eddie like he’s caught up and gotten back the quick wit and sharp humor which had been on a slight delay since the injury. A sign of recovery, Eddie’s sure and it helps to see him returning to normal.

They catch one another up on their days, and Eddie lets Steve listen to a few more of the tracks they’ve been working on over the last few days, but stops before the lyrics start in the only one he and Jeff have crafted words to so far, not ready for Steve to hear it yet.

As they’re talking, Eddie gets a notification he almost swipes away without reading, but Steve’s name catches his attention, so he drags it down and reads over the words.

“You okay?” Steve asks, and Eddie realizes the face he must be making is ridiculous. 

“Oh, uh. I just got a notification about you?” he mumbles back, and texts the link to Steve.

Now it’s Steve’s turn to look confused as Eddie reads over the headline again.

Hockey Legacy Harringtons to Host Joint Fundraiser

Steve reads the words and seems to immediately understand them in a way Eddie can’t, and he closes his eyes in a heavy sigh. “I promise you, my life is not usually this dramatic.” 

Eddie hates how miserable Steve seems all of a sudden; regrets passing the link on but knows he would have found out eventually and gotten upset anyway. “Dude, really, I don’t even know what that means, so it’s not a big deal.”

“It is, though. This is my parents, deciding that I’m worthy of being their son again because I’m getting a bunch of positive press after the injury. So my name gets to be included in the gala invitation, which I have been excluded from since juniors, by the way.” It’s still piecemeal, the information Eddie is able to take away from Steve’s explanation, but it’s enough to get the general gist of the issue.

“Ah. So, the dad who convinced you to self-sabotage is now trying to take credit for your sportsmanship?”

“Something like that,” Steve grumbles, and Eddie can see how he’s holding the phone differently, typing out a text. “I think I have to get Robin and we need to figure this out, sorry to jump off like this. But, I’ll see you at the Preds game? We can grab dinner after?”

“It’s a date.”

Eddie physically can’t stop the words before they’re out of his mouth, and immediately waits for a hole in the ground to open up and suck him in and put him out of his misery. But Steve just raises an eyebrow, smiles and shrugs. “Not yet, but. Sure.”

Then, Eddie stares at himself in the reflection of his phone after Steve ends the FaceTime call and he has no idea what he’s supposed to do with Steve Harrington, who keeps finding new ways to catch him off guard.

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 1: Love is... Letting someone take care of you (Prompt by @starryeyedjanai)

wc: 722 | Rated: G | tw: the ever-present possibility of Steve vomiting, migraines

Tags: Sick Fic, Steve Has a Migraine, Caregiver Eddie

Eddie makes his way down the hall, following the sounds of gross, loud and retching coughs, his pace quickening with each step.

Steve was supposed to meet him at the arcade an hour ago. Steve isn’t exactly the most punctual person (despite the guy always looking at his watch with a laboured sigh). He sleeps in more often than not.

But he’s never an hour late at 2 in the afternoon.

“Stevie?” he asks, just narrowly missing the doorframe as he practically spins into Steve’s bedroom.

He doesn’t wait for an answer and tiptoes towards the blanketed form that is spluttering gibberish like Steve is attempting to answer.

Eddie looks around the room, his hand hovering over Steve’s form.

The place looks about the same as usual – a little too clean for the bedroom of a twenty-year-old boy, curtains drawn like they were downstairs. Steve’s work clothes from yesterday are discarded on the floor...

Wait.

“Sweetheart,” he coos, rubbing the blanketed mass now.

The lump moves to reveal a muss of Steve’s hair, sticking on end, looking greasy and tangled at the back. Steve grumbles.

Eddie rounds the bed, hoping the other side will reveal Steve at least a little.

“So dizzy,” Steve mutters as soon as Eddie spots his flush, pained face in amongst his bedding.

His eyes roll back and close, a full-bodied grimace shaking the pile of bedding.

Eddie eases down and reaches to comb his fingers through Steve’s fringe, only to be hit with just how clammy his boyfriend is. He swoops back the sweat-caked hair, patting it down gently.

“Think I’m gonna… throw up,” Steve says clear as day and gulps.

And Eddie thinks this might be the first time he has ever seen someone’s face flush green.

“I’ll go get your bucket,” he says, earning a reedy whine in protest.

Steve doesn’t embarrass easily, but he does when it comes to his (sometimes vomit-inducing) migraines and the yellow bucket Claudia Henderson brought by after Spring Break and demanded he keep close by. It sits under the sink in the ensuite bathroom now.

Eddie makes quick work of retrieving the bucket, plus some tissues and a glass of water. There are more supplies he could do with, he thinks, but they’ll have to wait.

“Come on, Big Boy,” he says, tugging at the covers, “Time to sit up.”

Steve moves at a snail’s pace to get himself untangled from his cocoon and sit upright. The blankets eventually fall away to reveal a flush, bare chest.

“You naked under there?” Eddie teases.

“Clothes sting,” is all Steve says as he swings his legs around with a monumental effort to hang off the side of the bed.

“Feet on the carpet, sweetheart,” Eddie instructs, placing the bucket in his lap and spotting it with his own hands.

“I’s gross,” Steve mutters, head falling into the receptacle, his voice echoing in its (so far) emptiness, “Go... away.”

He sways a little as if those limited, broken words were too much. Eddie wraps his free hand around his boyfriend’s middle.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he begins, “And you are not gross. You need help. I’m here now.”

He soothes his hand up Steve’s back, feeling him relax a touch.

“O-okay,” Steve hiccups, a tear falling onto his cheek.

“I’m here to look after you,” Eddie reassures, his voice barely above a whisper, “And I’ll get you good enough that we can pack you up and get you over to my house. Sound good, hmm?”

Steve half-nods into his bucket before he looks up.

His eyes are glassy. Nose red. His fringe now sticking to his forehead. He looks like a wreck, unkempt and sweaty. Now only a pale, pink-tinged green.

But Eddie leans forward and presses a kiss to his partner’s cheek anyway.

“Just think about your feet on the carpet, okay?” he whispers when he pulls back, “Your feet are planted on the ground – balanced, steady. Focus on that for a while. It’s okay if you throw up.”

Steve huffs and nods.

“‘Kay.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve.”

Steve drops his head towards the bucket again and Eddie begins detangling at the damp hair at the nape of his neck.

“Thanks,” Steve rasps after a long while of silence (and him not blowing chucks everywhere), “L-Love you.”

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-down AU Part 15

Part 1 Part 14

“Demogorgon?” Eddie demands. “That thing does not look like a Demogorgon!”

He can feel himself unraveling. He and Steve are barely unraveling and now they’re supposed to keep this kid alive somehow? They’d planned to fuck off and die of starvation, but now there’s a fucking kid in the mix, they’re going to have to fight that thing again and figure out a way to get out of this mess alive.

“What’s a demo—”

“It’s a D&D monster, Steve.” He’s being too loud, and he realizes it even before Will shrinks back, looking between Eddie, and Steve, and the door, like he can’t figure out which one is more of a threat.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Steve says, like a jackass. Will smiles hesitantly over at him.

“It is not cool, Sir Steven,” he hisses, keeping his voice down this time. “That is not what a Demogorgon looks like, and in cause you’ve forgotten, it tried to eat you! What about that is cool?”

Steve holds his hands up, palms forward like he’s trying to calm a spooked horse. “Alright, man. Ease up,” he says. “Let’s just sit down and like, talk this out.”

As if to demonstrate the act of sitting, he folds himself gracefully to the ground, legs crossed in his usual sitting position. Eddie hates him just a little. But Will sits too, knees to his chest, arms locked around them, so Eddie slides off the couch and joins them.

“Why do you think it’s a Demo-whatever?” Steve asks, rolling his eyes as both Will and Eddie correct him in unison. “Yeah, Demogorgon, whatever.”

“I rolled a three,” Will says. “In the game. I rolled a three, and it got me. And then it got me in real life.”

Steve reaches out, patting the kid’s ankle. “Are you hurt?” Steve asks.

Will holds out his palms. They’re scrapped, a little bloody on the heels, but not too bad. Kid’s faired better than they have, that’s for sure.

“Just these,” Will says. “I fell off my bike.”

Without getting up, Steve stretches out to grasp the handle of his backpack, pulling it toward him. He pulls out their meager first aid supplies, even though the blood looks old and dried. He scoots forward on his butt until his knees knock into Will, and then he holds out his hand.

It takes a few loaded seconds, but Will puts one of his hands into Steve’s. Steve holds it up to his eyes, hemming and hawing over the minor cuts like they’re battle wounds.

Then the best thing happens – Will Byers laughs. Is Steve Harrington good with kids? Eddie is going to lose it.

“I think you’ll live,” Steve says, wiping the dried blood and dirt from his hands with one of the few remaining wet wipes, careful of the scabs. He pats them dry with the hem of his shirt before gently securing bandages across them. “There,” he says, with a private little smile. “Good as new.”

Will smiles up at him, cheeks pinkening in a way Eddie empathizes with. If Steve Harrington tenderly cared for his wounds, he’d disintegrate and blow away on the wind.

“Now what?” Will asks, looking around at his surroundings curiously, as if he only just realized he’d followed two strangers to an unknown location. “Where are we?"

Eddie jumps up, bowing theatrically. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

A small, competitive voice in the back of his head crowed in delight when he made Will laugh this time. Screw you, Steve Harrington. He was going to be this kid’s favorite.

“We should compare intel,” Steve says, like someone who’d watched too many James Bond movies before his brain was fully developed. But they do.

Steve and Eddie take turns describing a kid-friendly version of what they’d been through. The raging party turns into a small get-together, sans drugs and alcohol. The “Demogorgon” attack in the alleyway involves not injuries, and it never broke into Steve’s house at all.

They don’t mention the lack of food, but Eddie begins sifting the water when it becomes clear Will hasn’t had a drink in a while. He doesn’t let the kid see the residue left on the shirt that had once been in the water he’s now greedily gulping down.

Steve’s fidgeting, straightening, and recrossing is legs periodically as they wait for Will to finish drinking and catch his breath.

“And you?” Steve asks, when he finally lowers the bottle, wiping the water that’d dribbled down onto his chin with the sleeve of his flannel.

“I saw it in the woods,” he starts, handing the bottle back to Eddie and pulling his knees back up to his chest. “It made me crash my bike.”

“And it got you?” Steve asks, quiet and gentle.

Will shakes his head. “I made it home, but no one was there, and all the lights were flickering. So, I went to the shed, and I got Lonny’s gun. And—” he swallows, voice sounding thick. “I shot it, but it took me here anyway.”

“How long have you been here?” Eddie asks.

Will shrugs, less like he doesn’t want to say, and more like he doesn’t know. “My Mom’s looking for me though.”

Eddie’s jealous of that level of faith in a parent. He swallows it down, says, “of course she is.”

Will shakes his head, hair flying with the force of it. “No, you don’t get it,” he says, adamant. “I’m not just saying that. I talked to her.”

Eddie’s eyes shift to Steve’s face, sees the same skepticism he feels reflected back, hope it doesn’t show on his face quite as much. Okay,” he says, drawling the word out past its usual thresholds, “how?”

“With the phone in the kitchen. I called and she answered,” Will replies. There are tears running down his face now. “She sounded so worried.”

“…what did she say?” Steve asks. He’s picking at his cuticles again. Eddie wants to reach over and grab his hand. He doesn’t.

“She said she’d find me,” Will says. “But then the Demogorgon came.”

There’s silence for a minute besides Will’s quiet crying. Steve scoots closer to him, nudging their knees together companionably.

He meets Eddie’s gaze, something that looks alarmingly like hope shining in his eyes. “You got a phone in here, Munson?”

Part 16

[solarmorrigan]

For the fanfic mash-up prompt list, what about 2. Historical and 73. Stranded due to inclement weather?

Me, a history minor, upon reading this prompt: I've never learned anything about any period in history ever in my life

But! After drawing a blank for a while, we've got some vaguely Great Depression-era Steddie

Fanfiction Trope Mashup: 1. Historical AU + 73. Stranded Due to Inclement Weather

cw: brief assumed infidelity (not actually, though)

-

The drifter is handsome, beneath the smudges of road dust he’s picked up from traveling; his long hair is tied back from his face, revealing a soft mouth, high cheekbones, and eyes you could get lost in. He’s carrying a guitar on his back and not much else. He isn’t dressed nearly warm enough for the weather as it is, and certainly not for the snow that the heavy clouds above are threatening.

Steve already knows he’s going to invite him in.

“I don’t give handouts,” Steve says, mostly for himself, so he can pretend he isn’t a soft touch.

“I’m not asking for a handout,” the drifter says. “I’m more than happy to work for a meal.”

Steve pauses, like he’s thinking. There isn’t much left to the Harrington farm these days; they really only have the house, the barn, and enough land to keep some livestock – mostly chickens. (Robin loves the chickens; when they eat one, she makes sure they thank it by name, which Steve personally thinks is weird, but whatever helps her part more easily with them, he guesses.) The chores don’t take long, usually, but with Robin gone for the week, visiting her mother a few towns over, there are still a few things that need doing.

“Guess I could use a hand,” Steve says, and the drifter smiles at him, bright and dimpled, and Steve can practically hear Robin tutting at him – such a sucker for a pretty face.

At least the imaginary Robin in his head is easier to dismiss.

The drifter—“Eddie,” he introduces himself with a firm, calloused handshake—stores his guitar in the kitchen and gets to work helping Steve around the farm (such as it is). He doesn’t seem to have much familiarity with farmwork specifically, but he’s a hard worker and a good listener, and he slots in right alongside Steve with surprising ease.

He’s a bit of a talker – a storyteller, more like, spinning all kinds of yarns about his travels, half of which Steve is sure can’t be true, but which have him hooked anyway. Eddie seems to like him that way: his attention so focused on Eddie that he almost forgets what he’s doing several times throughout the day.

The hours fly by; the wind gets stronger, and you can almost taste the snow on it. Steve gives the animals one last check, makes sure everything is ready to weather a storm should it come, and then he and Eddie hurry inside the house. Steve cooks while Eddie washes up, and they eat sitting at the kitchen table like Steve and Robin usually do; there’s no one to impress by sitting in the overwrought dining room that had always intimidated Steve as a kid.

Snow is falling thick and fast by the time they finish eating.

“I’m not enough of a bastard to send you back out in that,” Steve says, twitching the curtains aside to look at the way little drifts have already started to collect against the fenceposts. “You’re welcome to stay, if you want.”

“Well, I’m not enough of an idiot to turn you down,” Eddie replies, sending Steve a sly grin. “Anything you want me to do around the house to earn a bed for the night?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he nods towards the living room. “Keep me company by the fire for a while?”

It’s a bit of a gamble – if Steve’s read Eddie wrong, this could end very badly, but Steve doesn’t think he has. He’s always been good at gauging a person’s interest, and he’s certain he’d caught Eddie’s eyes wandering more than once when he thought Steve wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie spends a long moment regarding Steve. “I’ll do you one better,” he finally says, and reaches for his guitar.

Eddie’s voice is rough and low, not always in key, but sincere and achingly soulful. He plays like he was born with a guitar in his hands, pulling music from it a hundred times better than anything Steve’s ever heard on the radio. If he’d been distracted by Eddie before, he’s absolutely enraptured now. He doesn’t even realize he’s been steadily drifting closer to him on the sofa until their knees are brushing.

“It’s getting late,” Eddie says, glancing towards the clock on the mantle. “Am I going to bunk in the barn?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable in the house.”

“Sure.” Eddie’s grin is slow-spreading as he watches Steve. “It’s pretty cozy down here by the fireplace. Sofa’s nice.”

“I could make you up a bed on the sofa.” Steve nods. “Or – there’s plenty of room in my bed, upstairs. Much cozier up there.”

Eddie’s grin is positively wolfish now. “You’d have me in your marriage bed?” he teases, and Steve shakes his head.

“My wife and I don’t share a bed,” he says (this is largely true, except when they have unavoidable overnight visitors, or when it’s very cold).

“No?” Eddie asks.

“We have an understanding,” Steve replies.

“Do you, now?” Eddie still looks like he isn’t quite sure whether to laugh or to eat Steve alive, but Steve only nods.

“She doesn’t mind if I have the occasional man around, and in return, I don’t mind if she has the occasional lady,” he explains softly. “And we keep each other safe.”

At that, Eddie’s grin softens, becomes warm, almost fond. “And who’s keeping you safe now? Inviting a complete stranger up into your bed." He shakes his head, still trying to tease. “I could be anybody. I could be a murderer, for all you know.”

“You aren’t,” Steve answers with full conviction.

The sincerity seems to give Eddie pause. “What makes you so sure?” he asks, and now he seems almost serious.

“Your eyes,” Steve says readily. “They’re too kind for you to be any kind of bad person.”

Those eyes go wide with surprise. “Well,” Eddie says slowly, “you’re one of the few people who thinks that.”

“Well, maybe other people need to pay more attention,” Steve says. “But if I’m wrong, and you do kill me, at least the last thing I see will be something beautiful.”

And that seems to do it. Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve, his lips chapped and warm against Steve’s.

“You might be the killer here, actually,” Eddie murmurs when they pull apart. “You’re gonna knock me dead with those lines, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. Steve likes that.

“Better come upstairs with me and give me something else to think about, then,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t need to be told again.

The snow continues through the night and into the next day. Steve and Eddie go out first thing to check the animals, to make sure everything is holding against the wind and the snow, and then head back to bed, where they spend the remainder of the day. It seems unkind to send Eddie away in this weather, after all.

In fact, it’s still so cold by the time Robin comes back from her visit that Steve hasn’t yet had the heart to send Eddie away. And if he and Robin talk it over, and if Eddie is still around by the time the warm spring weather comes, and if Eddie just stays and stays, the only thing people in town ever really wonder about is how the Harringtons found the money to hire a hand for their tiny piece of land.

[wildlife4life]

Fuck-Friday Coda

Tagged by the always lovely @theotherbuckley @perfectlysunny02 @cal-daisies-and-briars @aroeddiediaz @exhuastedpigeon @hippolotamus @loserdiaz @wikiangela @daffi-990 @tizniz and @diazsdimples Thank you all so much for all the tags throughout the week and today! I have eased back on working NFL Buck because I am absolutely swamped with school. I have started clinic rounds and somehow the classwork has doubled for the next set of courses. Which holy crap. So a lot of my days are for studying, homework, and quizzes. Add on being a mom/house wife and yea, not a ton of time to work on my favorite WIP. But I am making time on Thursday to watch the newest 9-1-1 episodes and write codas, because I started them in the final episodes of season 6 and really enjoyed it! So I made a goal to make a coda for most if not all of season 7 episodes! 2/2! I will try my absolute damnest to get some work into NFL Buck because it is my baby and I know how much it is beloved. Until then, enjoy the season 7 codas. Posted to ao3.

7x02 Coda

“We-I…” Buck tries to find the right words again, but he has no idea what they should be.  He doesn’t know if he should be defending himself along with Eddie and Chimney, proclaim that they were just being honest with internal affairs. Or if he should defend Hen and the betrayal she felt when they couldn’t back her up.

Rock and a hard place, with Buck being squeezed tightly in between.

Chimney left the locker-room soon after Hen, with the passing false hope comment, “She’ll come around.”  His phone was half-way to his ear before disappearing around the ladder truck, most likely spilling the entire ordeal to Maddie.

Buck slumps back down on the bench and leans his head against the lockers, closing his eyes with a defeated sigh. Still standing close by, Buck hears Eddie hum in agreement. Yea, tonight was very much a downer.

“We should have had her back.” Buck finally says.

He feels additional weight added to bench and pressing warmth along his arm and thigh when Eddie sits beside him. “We did. We just all put our foots in our mouths trying to show her.” He assured.  He gives Buck knee a gentle squeeze, “You more than me with that whole ‘right call’ comment and wanting to give Captain Collier’s a hard time.”

Buck groans in embarrassment, “I was trying and horribly failing to lighten the mood.”

“The mood was dead on arrival; you had no chance.” Eddie chuckles.

They both go silent, stewing in the hurt emotions left behind by Hen and Chimney, mixing with their own anxiety and worry. It kind of reminds Buck of the last time Hen was captain and that man died at the happiness convention. God that felt like so long ago, when really is less than a year.  Yet here they all are, questioning themselves on the job after losing a patient and without Bobby’s steady leadership to help guide them through it.

Buck could only hope this didn’t send him or anyone else on the team into a spiral of questioning their purpose in life. And he really hoped it didn’t lead to another brush with death, for anyone of them.

The hand on Buck’s knee never left and gave another squeeze, pulling him from his past wallows and has his eyes fluttering open. He looks over at Eddie and sees an understanding smile gracing his lips. “That man’s death isn’t on us. We we’re working on the worst of the crash, and we saved that girl and her mother.  Hen made the right call, the same one Bobby would have made and when those lab results concur with her story, she’ll be back, and we’ll find a way to make it up to her.”

Buck takes a moment to let Eddie’s words sink it and pull him from the beginnings of a self-deprecating spiral. He did his job, he gave his facts of the event truthfully, and Hen would come around. In all regards, Buck just needed to learn how not to put his foot in his mouth, because at the moment it really was a nasty taste.

Slowly most of the tension that had built up during Hen’s confrontation eases away and Eddie felt it through the press of his shoulder into Buck’s, “That has to be a record.” He comments before getting to his feet and reaching a hand out.

Buck doesn’t even hesitate and tries his damnest not to flush too red as Eddie hauls him to his feet with little to no effort. The man has a girlfriend and Buck was done chasing. “Uh yea. Turns out when you stop trying to search for the life’s great moments and instead live in them, internal spiraling is easier to pull out of.” He explains. Eddie also is a big contributor, but Buck isn’t going to admit that to said man.

“Well… At least those self-help books will make good kindling for the next campfire.” Eddie cackles and Buck swats at his shoulder which only makes him laugh harder.

Eventually Buck joins in and the pit of dread dwindles further. He embraces this moment and knows eventually everything is going to be okay.

Short but somewhat sweet I hope! Tagging (no pressure): @jesuisici33 @fortheloveofbuddie @rogerzsteven @lemonzestywrites @evanbegins @buck-coded @devirnis @glorious-spoon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @sunshinediaz @watchyourbuck @lover-of-mine @hoodie-buck @elvensorceress @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @jeeyuns @bekkachaos @buddierights @try-set-me-on-fire @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @eddiebabygirldiaz @spaceprincessem @eddiiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @doublecheekeddiaz @prosperdemeter2 @transboybuckley @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @dangerpronebuddie @missmagooglie @thebloomingheather

[tell-me-a-tale-that-tells]

TATTOOS

┏━━━━ ☙ ☪ ☙ ━━━━┓

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie and Reader go upstairs after he offered to show her his other tattoo, just that said tattoo is in a prived area.

Warnings: a bit of mild nudity and just a lot of flirting and some sexual tension lol

┗━━━━ ☙ ☪ ☙ ━━━━┛

Chapter 2

Eddie walked to your room, he knew your house like it was his own.

He dropped sitting in your armchair, hands resting on the soft manchettes, legs spread open.

You sat on the edge of the bed, facing Eddie and fiddling with the silver rings on your fingers.

He spoke first.

"Y/N, I don't want to make this awkward for the both of us. My other tattoo is a bit... well, in a place near my..." and he gestured vaguely near his crotch.

You swore the temperature rises ten grades more, you knew very well that your friend would not make anything to upset you, but he liked to flirt too.

He liked to flirt A LOT.

"Yeah, I already guessed that" you laughed to ease the tension.

"Do you?" he smiled, interested.

"We're in my room even if we're at home alone" you explained.

He stood up abruptly, making a bow to you "Excellent deduction, my pretty friend".

Pretty, here's the flirter.

You already saw Eddie with fewer clothes on, but it was many years ago when the both of you two were still children and you went to the school's pool.

You still remember his compliments on your swimsuits, always cute and colorful, he always said that they matched your personality very well.

"So is it ok?" he asked more seriously.

You nod and held your breath when you looked at his long fingers undoing the buckle of his belt, the metal of the handcuffs clinging with his rings.

He sat down again on your armchair to lower his pants, to not trip on them, he kicked away his shoes, remaining in his black boxers.

You were thinking about anything for not concentrating on the waistband of his cotton underwear, the sparse hair trailing down below it and the small part of a tattoo peeking out.

Kittens, your father's car, your grades, and math tests, the ugly history teacher...

"Earth call Y/N " you heard distantly before snapping back to reality.

Eddie was standing there, with a warm smile and waving his hand.

"Sorry, I got distracted," you said.

He placed both hands on his heart faking feeling pain.

"And I was thinking I'm way too sexy to think about something else, dammit" he joked.

You laughed and gestured for him to come closer.

His jaw almost dropped to the floor when you grabbed the hem of your tank top and yanked it out, doing the same to your shorts.

"For equity" you said smirking.

"I'm not complaining, sweetheart" he dropped beside you on the bed, leaning on his elbows.

"Left hip, a bit lower actually" he instructed you.

Your trembling hands reached for the left front side of his briefs and pulled slowly down, revealing a tattoo of a small dragon with a long body and open wings, very near his groin.

"Is this...no way! You got Smaug from The Hobbit?" you shouted.

He chucked sitting up "You recognized it!"

"You perfectly know I love that book, you big nerd" you admonished him, letting go of the waistband in your fingers, making it snap audibly against Eddie's skin.

"And you know perfectly that no one ever saw it before, do you?" he asked, mere inches from you.

"But you said-" you commenced.

"That only pretty girls get to see it, yeah. But I haven't said that someone has seen it before, didn't I? The only pretty girl I know is you" he brushed a loose lock of your Y/H/C behind your ear.

The world was spinning, like very fast.

"Eddie..." you tentatively caressed his right cheek, stroking it lovingly with your thumb.

He was about to lean towards you and close the small gap that separated your mouths when the sound of your parents' car on the garden's gravel reached you both.

"SHIT, THIS IS GOING TO LOOK BAD" Eddie said stumbling down the bed and dressing himself while you tried to do the same.

By the time your parents entered the house, you and he were sitting at the kitchen table, with some books and notebooks, pretending to study.

"Hello, Mr. and Ms. Y/L/N" Eddie greeted politely.

"Hello, dear" your mother responded, "is Y/N helping you with some holiday homework?"

"Yeah, Eddie's very bad at physics" you smiled at your mum.

Satisfied, your mother began to stack away some supplies until your father sneaked near her.

"Is Eddie wearing one of my old shirts?" he asked her, amused.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he is" she answered with a knowing smile.

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome. If you have a request for a fic, you just need to write me a private message and I'll write it for you.

[flowerfan2]

Eddie is different, afterwards.  Dustin doesn’t understand why no one is doing anything about it.  It’s like the spark has gone out of him, except with Eddie it wasn’t just a spark, it was fireworks, and now he’s like the old flashlight Dustin once found at the back of his closet that barely flickered.

When Eddie doesn’t even want to play D&D, Dustin tries talking about it with Will.  He tells him he doesn’t know why Eddie can’t just snap out of it, and Will glares at him like he suggested raising another baby demodog.  In retrospect, maybe he shouldn’t have made light of being trapped in the Upside Down with the only other guy he knows who went through the same thing.

Dustin knows Eddie’s gone through some shit, he does.  But the truth is he misses him, misses his confident swagger, his disdain for people who are afraid to wave their freak flag high.  He misses his big smile, and his crazy faces.  He misses the way Eddie took care of his little lost sheep.

The government gave Eddie and Wayne a new trailer, but Dustin hasn’t seen it yet.  Max spends as much time as she can with El or hanging out at the Wheeler’s, saying the trailer park still feels haunted to her.  Dustin wonders what it’s like for Eddie, still being there every day, in the place he saw Chrissy die.

Dustin goes to summer camp again, and for a while he’s able to put it all out of his mind.  Suzie is there, and being with her is awesome.  For four weeks he tries to pretend that the insanity and terror of living in Hawkins is no big deal.  But then he comes back home.

After a few days of riding around town on his bike and hanging out with the party,  Dustin decides to organize a trip to the arcade.  He tries to call Steve for a ride, but there’s no answer at his house, and when he goes to get the walkie Mike stops him, saying he thinks he’s busy.  Dustin protests for a while, but finally gives up when El tells him that the Byers are having a barbeque that weekend and he’ll see Steve then.

Saturday dawns hot and bright, and Dustin puts on his favorite camp shirt and heads over to the Byers’ new house early.  Joyce gives him a warm hug, like always, and he goofs around with Will until Jonathan forces them to help set up chairs in the backyard.  People start arriving around lunchtime, but it isn’t until he’s eaten two ketchup-drenched hot dogs and an overcooked burger that he sees Steve arrive, Eddie trailing close behind him.

He wants to run over and give Eddie a giant hug, better even than the one Dustin got from Joyce, but Robin suddenly appears next to him and puts a hand on his arm to hold him back.  “Let him ease into it,” she says softly.  Dustin doesn’t know why Eddie would need to ease into hanging out with his friends, but something in Robin’s tone tells him not to argue.

Eventually Dustin decides enough is enough.  He finds Eddie in the house, sitting next to Steve on the couch, talking softly with Hopper who is leaning against an armchair.  They all swivel their heads towards him when he pokes his head in, and Hopper nods and leaves the room, grunting some kind of greeting at Dustin as he goes by.

“Hey, what’s up?”  Steve says, and Dustin stumbles over both his feet and his words as he throws himself at the two of them.  Steve catches him and holds him tight, and he feels Eddie wrap an arm around him too.

“I want everyone to be okay,” Dustin mumbles, feeling like an idiot but not able to really say anything else.

“We’re okay, dude, don’t worry,” Steve says.  “I mean, Hopper’s grill skills could use some work, but generally speaking that’s not a big deal.”

“Really?  That’s what you’re going with?  You know that’s not what I mean.”  Dustin pushes out of their hold and sits on the coffee table.  He looks at Eddie, and then Steve, who exchange a weird glance, and then Eddie leans forward.

“I’m sorry, bud.  It really wasn’t my year, I guess. But-” Eddie’s eyes flash over to Steve, who gives him a wry grin and knocks their knees together.  “Things are looking up.  I’m okay.  Really.”

Dustin realizes that Eddie does seem better.  He’s completely lost that gray haze.  Even his hair looks better, bouncier, like Steve has been sharing his secrets.  “Do you swear?” he asks, his throat tight.

Eddie laughs, and it makes something glad and joyful bubble up in Dustin’s chest.  Steve looks happy about it too, and he grabs Eddie around his shoulders and pulls him close to his side, making Eddie laugh some more and then rest his head on Steve’s shoulder.  “Yeah, I swear.”

Dustin hears Nancy announcing something about ice pops, and he decides he better get out there before all the good flavors are taken.  “All right.  Fine.  See you around?”

“For sure,” Eddie says, and it’s a little softer and quieter than maybe Eddie was before, but Dustin still feels that warmth inside him.  Because the spark is back in Eddie’s eyes.  It’s not quite fireworks yet, but it’s there, and it’s awesome.  

[capseycartwright]

tidbit tuesday because i’m writing fic again and not only writing fic but enjoying writing fic therefore have the unstoppable impulse to share. ok good.

More than anything, Buck hated how no matter how he tried to intervene, everyone else still got the brunt of Gerrard’s ire, Buck’s sexuality not exactly a point in his favour, but a lesser offence than the mere existence of everyone else. Buck was not going to be a bystander, okay – Maddie had raised him better than that. So, Buck made a point to put himself between Gerrard, and everyone else. Gerrard tries to make Hen man behind? Buck volunteers to be man behind. Gerrard tries to get Chimney to cook dinner? Buck is behind the stove faster than Gerrard can finish his sentence. Gerrard tries to make Eddie clean down an already clean truck? Buck is in there grabbing the rags and spray.

Buck fucking hates Gerrard, and he hates the way that his presence is making his team – his family – feel. Before, they would reach the end of a shift, and someone would suggest breakfast and they’d walk around to the 24-hour dinner near the station and get French toast and drink too much coffee and Buck would feel like he belonged. Now, their shift ended, and everyone went their separate ways, none of them wanting to spend any more time than strictly necessary near the station – not until Bobby was reinstated, at least.

Which was why Buck was here – sitting in his car in a Trader Joe’s parking lot, at the most loose of loose ends. Tommy was on shift, and Buck didn’t quite feel they were at that point in their relationship yet, the one where Buck could just turn up whenever and hang out. He liked where they were – Buck wasn’t complaining about the state of their burgeoning relationship – but he didn’t want to do what he always did, and be too much, too soon.

Buck just didn’t want to go home. His loft was too big, and too quiet, and after another shift of constantly fighting with Gerrard, Buck didn’t want to be left alone with his own thoughts. So – he went to the grocery store, and bought ingredients to make Eddie’s favourite breakfast (sweet and savoury pancakes, the best of both worlds) and now he was standing in the doorway of Eddie’s house, watching as Eddie – sat on the floor crying?

It had been a weird year, and it didn’t feel like it was getting any less weird.

“Eddie?” Buck’s voice was gentle as he set his groceries down on the floor, closing the front door behind him. “What happened? What’s going on?”

Eddie, in his saddest, most Freddie Mercury like state, blinked owlishly at Buck. He was squeezing a ratty looking teddy bear Buck recognised as Sir Squish, a toy Eddie had bought for Christopher before his first deployment, the blue bear very much showing it’s thirteen years of age now. “I think I might be a misogynist.”

“There is – there is just so much to unpack there,” Buck eased himself onto the floor next to Eddie. “Eddie – you’re not a misogynist. You haven’t like – grown a mustache and become a bigot.”

That, at least, made Eddie snot out a laugh. Or maybe it was a wail – Buck wasn’t entirely sure. It might have been both. “An accidental misogynist,” he mumbled, sounding incredibly miserable. “I’ve been so mean to so many women – and all because I couldn’t accept who I am, Buck.”

Buck was pretty sure he could feel his heartbeat in his ass. “What do you mean?” he couldn’t help but ask – he was sure there was a kinder, gentler way to ask, but he hadn’t expected those exact words to come out of Eddie’s mouth, and Buck had only been actively queer for like, two months, and it’s not like he was given any sort of handbook for this.

(Maybe there was a handbook – Buck should check, next time he took Jee-yun to the library.)

Sir Squish was suffering quite the fate in Eddie’s death grip, his googly-eyes looking as though they were about to pop off and roll away, Eddie’s tears free-flowing as he roughly wiped at his face with the sleeve of his sweater. “I think I’m gay, Buck.” 

tagging @thatbuddie @clusterbuck @doeeyeseddie @hattalove @mellaithwen @littlespoonevan @sibylsleaves @like-the-rest-of-la and anyone else who fancies an excuse to share some fic

[eagerbby]

Linger | Part 1

pairing| Eddie Munson x older!female reader

synopsis| A unknowing game of cat and mouse with your younger neighbor, who can't seem to hold on to his house key, leads to feelings you don't want to admit and actions you can't take back. Not that you'd want to, anyway.

an| admittedly I've been working on this far too long, since October to be exact. I wasn't seeing a lot of older!reader fics and as a 26 year old I wanted to explore a dynamic between Eddie and someone older. I hope you enjoy and be ready for part 2 which will be even more filthy than this!

warnings| 7k, eddie is 20-21, female masterbation, eddie is persistent as fuck, stubborn!R, drug use (weed), reader is kinda bitchy but eddie likes it. MDI

“Eddie?” 

“Hey, princess. It’s fucking freezing out here.” He smiles at you as a cold gust of wind blows past him and straight into your bones. Behind him the sun is setting into a tangerine colored, cotton candy sky. 

“Lose your key again?” You ask, shivering in only a shirt and shorts, huddled behind the screen door with your arms wrapped tight across your chest. 

Eddie shrugs sheepishly from the other side of the screen door, but his crooked grin tells you everything you need to know. 

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck as he peers up at you through his lashes with puppy dog eyes. "I think I forgot it at The Hideout last night."

With a sigh and a halfhearted roll of your eyes you motion him in, smiling to yourself as you walk back to the sudsy dish water you had been wrist deep in when he'd first knocked.

"Starting to think maybe you should tie that key of yours around your neck." You quip as he settles himself at the little dinner table tucked into the corner of your kitchen. 

It’s not a very big kitchen, smaller than your bedroom even, which means the ‘corner of the kitchen’ is only five feet from the L shaped counter. If you took two steps backwards you’d be in his lap. The thought has your stomach fluttering.

"Uncle Wayne said the same thing." He chuckles. "Says I'm costing him a fortune in key making." 

"This is a common occurrence for you, huh?"

"No, not common... maybe like the sixth time…this year." 

"Jesus Christ, Eddie." You laugh, wiping your hands off on the dish towel as you turn towards him. "Remind me not to ever hand you my keys." 

He smiles at you with this cheesy grin that makes your stomach flutter like a teenage girls, heat rushing to your face when you notice the way he's sitting. 

He’s leaned back in the walnut stained wooden chair, legs spread wide. His already tight black jeans stretched taut over his thick thighs and his worn Black Sabbath shirt has ridden up against the pale skin of his stomach, the dark line of his happy trail catching your eyes. It takes everything in you to look away, to not allow your eyes to stay glued to that sexy tuff of dark hair. 

You turn back to drain the sink, willing the heat in your face away. 

"Guess who's graduating this year?" He sounds jovial and you just can't help but tease him- just a little. Maybe it’ll ease the tension settling in the air of your kitchen. 

"Hello, Eddie. I'm fine, how are you?" You say while you begin wiping the counters down, stepping over his long outstretched legs. 

"Come on! Guess!" He urges, leaning forward to bump your elbow with his knuckles. You clench the rag in your hands tighter as you wipe down the stove. 

"Well, I don't know any high school boys, other than you, so I'm gonna need a list of names to run through first." 

"You're so mean to me." He says with high dramatics, taking the leather jacket he'd left here a couple days ago and tossing it over the back of a different chair.  

"Eddie, I let you hang out, smoke you up, and I feed your gangly ass. God, I'm such a horrible, evil person." Your voice runs an edge of seriousness as you tease him, throwing a look over your shoulder in the process. 

And, God, maybe you shouldn’t have looked back at him because he’s sitting there with his legs spread wide looking at you with that heavy simmer of his that you've started to notice and ignore. He's become a temptation, one you just can not fold to. It'd be wrong. You're older than him and he's still in high school, anything more than hanging out would leave you feeling dirty.

Unfortunately, you're not quite sure if it's a good kind of dirty or a bad kind. 

"You're the worst." He drawls, fiddling with his trusty zippo. "You devilish woman, you." 

The way he says it makes your spine tingle, makes you clench your thighs a little and hope he doesn't see. 

"You hungry, kid?" Maybe a change in subject will evaporate the building tension in your small kitchen. You dig through the fridge as he sits silently behind you. 

"You know I hate it when you call me that." His words mumbled when he finally speaks, sad almost, but he knows what you're doing. It wasn't like he couldn't feel the tension that was building between the two of you.

It starts off innocent enough. Three in the morning, dressed in only your silk robe and a pair of rain boots you'd found by your front door, you had trudged across the small gravel driveway between the two trailers and banged banged banged at the blue painted door. You didn't know your neighbor. You’d only lived in Hawkins a couple months at the time, but you did know that every night from 9 to 11 the sound of a wailing guitar was bound to rattle the fake crystal chandelier hung in your living room. Usually you could manage, put your tape deck on -drown it out- but that night the tinny punch didn't stop when the clock struck eleven or even at midnight. In fact it seemed to get even louder, like the person had turned the amp up, and you were fuming mad. 

The door swung open so hard and fast it startled you and before you could chastise the person for making such an unnecessary ruckus, they were already apologizing.

"I'm so sorry, I-I didn't realize how late it was." 

"You've been playing for hours, kid. Some of us have to work in the morning." 

That anger you had as you stomped over dissipated quickly as you looked at his frazzled expression. He was young, obviously a metal head considering the long hair and all black attire, but his big chocolate brown eyes begged for forgiveness as they blinked back at you.

"I really am sorry, Miss. I'm learning a new song and… I guess I just got carried away." God, poor kid looked like he was about to get cuffed and loaded into the back of a cop car.

"S'fine, just go back to your normal hours. That I can deal with." You start to step down the rickety porch steps before you turn quickly and point your manicured finger at him. His eyes widened. "And don't fucking call me Miss, my name's y/n."

After that he seemed to make it his mission to run into you whenever you weren't locked inside your trailer. From meeting at the mailbox, to offering to mow your grass -which you really didn't have much of- to sitting next to you as you tended to your garden. It wasn't until a stormy cold evening that you invited him in. He said he lost his key and his uncle worked at the plant all night and into the morning. You made him dinner, watched a movie, and set him up on the couch for the night. 

“Only this one time.” You'd said. “What do I look like letting a high schooler into my home?” 

Eddie loathes when you do that to him, even now, level him down to simply a high schooler. 

“I'm twenty.” He'd corrected, going as far as to show you his license. Sure enough he was, but you knew you couldn't let it go past a friendship. The town would think you'd corrupted him, they'd surely run you out with torches and pitchforks. Shit, they'd probably burn you at the stake. 

But something was starting to grow between you two. You thought at one point it was merely fondness for the strange kid who spoke in codes half the time and made a show out of everything he did. It didn't take you much longer after that, though, to realize what was really growing. Sprouting the weeds in your chest.

You wanted him.

God, did you feel horrible about that one.

It didn't matter that he was twenty, legal, an adult, there was such innocence inside him. Heart on his sleeve, kindness in his smile. Anything other than friendship was a no go. You'd ruin this kid, you just knew it. You didn't have the best track record with men and the last thing you wanted was to take this young man and break his heart before he could even experience what young love could feel like. 

Wasn't happening. It's what you kept telling yourself. It's why you'd call him kid, which he hated passionately and made sure to let you know. Why you wouldn't let him hug you like he begged and begged to do. Shit, it'd probably be easier to put on a chastity belt and call it a day. Every time you pushed him away, he'd barrel back head first. He was incredibly determined. 

You were playing a losing battle. 

"Sorry, bub. Forget sometimes." You toss halved tomatoes in a bowl of chopped lettuce, moving to place the cutting board and knife in the sink before going back to the fridge. 

You could feel his eyes boring into your ass as you bent to look through the crisper, hair standing up on end as you tried your hardest not to look back at him. You know what you'd see if you did and the last time you'd caught him staring the tarry blackness of his wide pupils almost knocked you to your knees. 

"Are you hungry, though?" You ask again, clearing your throat as you straighten your back and shut the fridge door. You make it a point not to look at him as you head back to the counter, an onion in one hand and a small pack of steaks in the other.

"Steak? Okay, I take back what I said before. You're an angel sent from heaven to save me." 

"Ha, maybe in your dreams." You try to joke back but you can feel his body heat again as he squats down beside you to grab the cast iron skillet from the cabinet. He puts it on the stove and smiles up at you. You hadn’t even heard him stand from the chair.

"Always in my dreams, sugar." 

His words send that sickly sweet rush of heat down into the pit of your belly. Your body so starved for a release it actually hurts. 

Why does he have to make this so hard? 

"So you're gonna graduate this year, huh?" Change the subject. Ignore the stupid fucking glint in his pretty brown eyes. It's starting to become a routine, really.

"I got a C in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, which isn't great I know, but it's enough for me to walk the stage." He raises back to his full height, looking down at you with that little smirk of his, watches as you peel the pale skin of the onion. "Will you come to graduation?"

You can't hide how his question surprises you, hands freezing against the clean cutting board, eyebrows furrowing together. 

"I really want you to." He adds, closing in on you. 

"Won't your uncle think it's weird some stranger is coming to watch his kid cross the stage?" 

"He knows about you." 

You drop the onion onto the board and it rolls off the counter when you turn to him.

"He knows about me? What's that mean?"

Eddie shrugs, so much closer than you expected him to be. You can smell the hint of smoke on his denim vest, see the deep vines of brown swirling his eyes. "I told him where I was that night I lost my key. He has this weird thing about me sleeping in my van, he hates it for some reason, so when he asked I just told him the truth."

"And?"

"And nothing." He laughs. "Why are you worried about what my uncle thinks?" 

"Uh, because he's your guardian and I don't want him to think I'm taking advantage or-or corrupting you."

Eddie bursts out in laughter, head falling forward into your shoulder before he's leaning back and wiping under his eye as if there's a tear. 

"God, sweetheart, you should be worried about the opposite. You haven't heard?" He leans in and narrows his eyes menacingly. His breath wafts over your cheek as he speaks. "I'm the town pariah. The town freak. Nobody is worried about ‘The Corruption of Eddie Munson’." 

“That’s not true.” Your voice is a hush whisper as you answer back, trying your hardest not to choke on your own damn tongue. You’re locked onto his unwavering gaze, his body unyielding as he steps closer somehow. Fuck, he’s so close, if you just lean up a couple inches your lips could capture his. 

No. Nope. Not happening. 

You lean away as his hand comes up to brush a stray hair behind your ear and the simple touch -the simple intimacy of the gesture- sends shivers across your hot skin. 

“Eddie.” You warn softly and he grins sheepishly. 

“Sorry, I can’t help myself.” His breathing is still a little shallow.

“Eddie.” 

“I’m sorry.” He takes a step back, far enough that he’s not almost pressed against you anymore but still close enough to feel the heat radiate off his body. 

“Can you rinse the onion for me?” 

With a nod he ducks to pluck the runaway vegetable from the floor before heading for the sink. He flips the tap on with a long finger and the hum of running water does nothing to drown the racing of your brain.

After a quiet dinner you find yourself sitting next to him on the couch, a rerun of Murder, She Wrote playing on the TV. Your brain is fuzzy from the weed he’d brought to share with you and you find yourself leaning against the backrest of the couch, eyes glued to him as he takes a big bong rip.

“You really want me to come?” You ask, voice soft and airy, and Eddie hacks as his head whips toward you. He looks like a cartoon bull with the way the smoke shoots from his nostrils.

“Huh?” He manages as he splutters, clutching the neckline of his shirt as if that would fill his lungs with air. 

“Do you really want me to come to graduation?” You ask again, handing your drink over to him and patting his back. He chugs the whole glass of Coca Cola, panting when he’s done. 

“Fuck, I hit that too hard.” 

“You’re about to be comatose off that hit.” You laugh, taking the glass as he hands it back to you. He settles back into the cushions with a lopsided grin on his face. 

“Just what I wanted.” He chimes, his black lashes fluttering against his cheeks as his eyes close. “What’d you ask me?” 

You go to repeat yourself before noticing just how soft his features have become, sleep inevitably pulling at him. You’ll talk to him tomorrow, you think as you stand from the couch.

“Go to sleep, Ed.” You whisper into the dim lit room, covering him with the blanket that had become balled up in his lap. 

“M’kay, nightie night.” He tucks his knees to his chest, nuzzling his face into the fabric of the couch and then he’s out, soft snores fluttering the stray string clinging to the blanket. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy, like most nights. You spend hours laying there in the dark, watching the way the moon light reflects off your crystal window chime and sends arcs of purple candescent rays across your walls and ceiling. The tossing and turning comes next, an hour spent tracing the rays with your eyes has become boring and the lack of sleep makes your eyes heavy. Of course they aren’t heavy enough to allow you to succumb to the sleep you desperately long for.

Usually you’d reach for your little friend tucked away in your bedside drawer but with Eddie just down the very short hall, you don’t want to chance your noisy little friend waking up the meddlesome boy sleeping on your couch. 

Eddie. The reminder of him shoots through you like an arrow, mind hastily rewinding to the way he all but cornered you in the kitchen earlier. The way your heart stuttered in your chest and your fingers ached to pull him by the collar of that stupid ripped Black Sabbath shirt until his lips were pressed against yours.

Okay. Stop.

You can’t think about him this way. He’s young, a good couple years younger in fact, there was no way you could allow these thoughts. 

But if they are only thoughts, who do they really hurt? You won’t act on them, you know better than that. Know you can’t get wrapped up with the twenty year old super senior, not when you came here to specifically get away from the drama of your past. No. You have to be good. Have to resist his infallible charm. You need to turn over, close your eyes, and be good. 

Yet your hand still wanders past the hem of your panties, down across the silky skin that lays underneath them. Your fingertip finds your clit immediately and your body jerks at the sensitivity of that little bundle of nerves, a surprised gasp leaving your lips in a rush. 

Down the hall, bundled on the couch, Eddie coughs. 

In your bed you lay frozen, heart pounding and ears listening intently. There’s no way you woke him up, not with just a gasp. You continue to listen for any other noise for a minute or two, heart steadily thumping and your fingers twitching at the anticipation of what you’re about to do because let's be real here. If you don’t come soon, you might actually implode.  

Feeling safe to move forward in your little quest, you guide your fingers back down, teasing a trail through your wet folds. 

His fingers would feel so much better. It’s not a helpful thought, not when you’re trying to think of anyone but him.

Fuck, okay. 

Patrick Swayze in that tight black shirt in The Outsiders. No. Scratch that. Matt Dillion as Dallas in The Outsiders, all rough and tumble. Just what you like in a man. A little rough around the edges but a good soul.

You press tight circles on your aching bud, arch your chest into your hand as it slips under your loose nightie, pulling at your pebbled nipple. You can’t help the soft moan that floats out, can’t help the rut of your hips into your palm as you slip two fingers into your heat. You imagine Matt Dillon laying you down on the bed, burying his face between your thighs.

Oh, fuck, that’s so good. This isn’t a marathon; it’s a sprint.

Your body so pint up and begging for some sort of release you’re on the precipice in no time at all. Your body is on fire, hips canting wildly, you think maybe your bed is squeaking but you don’t care. Fuck, you can’t care. Not when you’re so close. Just a little closer. 

Your imaginary scenario shifts suddenly and unexpectedly in your mind. Sexy Matt Dillion erased as Eddie’s face engulfs your vision completely. His beautiful face, those big strong hands of his, the tattoos, that little strip of black hair that leads down down down into his pants. 

You come with a cry, shocking and loud, and you clamp your hand across your mouth as your eyes screw tightly, brow pinching together almost painfully. 

His words from earlier replay as your body rocks through your orgasm in one vicious wave after another. 

"You devilish women, you.” 

Your thighs, trembling and slick, clamp around your own hand when you’ve had too much. Body relaxes into your silk sheets as you breathe slowly. But you’re filled with this zing like pins and needles from your fingertips to your toes and your mind is racing, and why the fuck did your brain betray you like that? 

You feel it then, the soft call of sleep. The flutter of your eyes as you fight to keep them open. The trailer is silent besides the rough Illinois winds as they beat a lone branch against the roof. You roll over in your bed, nuzzle deep into the blankets. You’ll deal with whatever that was tomorrow or the next day. Or never. You take one last peek at your room, still a soft lavender hue, purple moonlight, before sleep takes over. 

You don’t even notice the fact that your bedroom door had been left open just a crack. 

Eddie is gone when you wake up the next morning, the sun casting its early morning rays into your windows. The only proof he was even there is the blanket he slept with the night before sloppily folded on the arm of the couch. You don’t think much of his earlier departure. He’s a busy guy running full steam ahead towards his graduation. So you go about your day as normal. Coffee made, a small breakfast of yogurt and some berries you wished you’d grown on your own. You tidy up from the night before, washing the dinner dishes and making a list you shove into the depths of your purse. You need to stop by the store after work, get dinner for the next couple nights. 

The day goes on like so; slow and laborious. You try your hardest not to think about Eddie, try to place him at the back of your mind. You go through work at the Hawkins Journal mindlessly. Walk the colorful aisles of the grocery store with glazed eyes.

By the time you get home, you’re exhausted. It’s late, nearing seven, and the place where Eddie’s van calls home is empty. You assume he’s off doing ‘Eddie Things’ as you called his extracurricular activities that were not of the legal kind. 

You decide to start dinner instead, talking to your friend from back home as you cook. 

“Any new love interests?” She asks at one point, voice giddy with hope. It’d been a year or so since you broke up with your toxic ex and about nine months since you’d arrived in Hawkins with no interesting suitors. 

“Nope, not one.” You rattle off as you stir your boiling water and pasta.

“Bullshit.” She says under her breath before she repeats herself, louder this time. More accusatory. “That’s bullshit. Nine months and not one guy you’re interested in? Did moving to that Podunk town automatically make you a nun?” 

You laugh at this, rolling your eyes as if she could see. 

“No, it didn't make me a nun. But most of these guys are married. Or boring. Or married and boring. Or..” 

“Or?” She catches your avoidance, the tone you held as you trailed off from your former sentence. 

“Or… nothing.” You avoid it as you strain your pasta. 

“Babe.” She says sternly. 

“Fuck. Or they're too young.” You plop the strained pasta unceremoniously in the pasta sauce and throw the white plastic strainer into the sink.

“Young? How young are we talking?” Her voice is fully scandalized and you can only imagine the bright smile she's wearing. 

“20.” You sigh, leaning your hip against the counter as you stir with one hand and hold the phone against your ear with the other. “My neighbor. He’s…. He’s trouble.” 

“Oh, so he’s your type, is what you’re telling me.” She chimes and you roll your eyes once again.

“No. He’s trouble for me. He’s a good guy. Kid. Person.” Another sigh from you as your friend chuckles. 

“Oh, you are so bad off.” A giggle, then, “He’s legal, just go for it. You know, the world would be better if you got laid. You’d be less tense.” 

“No. He hasn’t even graduated high school yet.” You say. 

“He’s 20 and he hasn’t graduated high school?” 

“He’s not stupid.” 

“I didn’t say he was.” Her tone makes your skin crawl. She can tell -over the phone, miles away- just how defensive her question made you. 

“He’s just a kid.” You say again, mostly to yourself. 

“Babe, he’s twenty.” 

“So what, I should just fuck him?” Your voice is getting higher, temper is starting to build. There’s no reason to get so worked up, you know your friend means well, but you know you can’t go there with Eddie. You’d just ruin him. You weren’t good at relationships. 

“Calm down. I’m just saying. If you want it and he wants it and you are both legal consenting adults, what's the issue?”  

“It feels wrong. Like I’m taking advantage of him.” You mutter, abandoning your bubbling pasta to look out your window towards Eddie’s trailer. The van is still gone but now his uncle Wayne’s truck sits out front. 

“Jesus, babe. You’re clinging on to this warped moral high ground you have with your pinkies. Just let go. Live for once. I thought that's why you moved out there anyway. To live your own life however you want.” 

“It is.”

“Then fucking live it.” 

Your friends' words worm their way into your brain, spreading like a disease. You get high to quiet the voice but that doesn’t work like you want. You end the night curled up on the couch with your book, not even reading the words on the page. No. All you can do is think about Eddie and those four damned words. 

Then fucking live it

The days fade into even colder nights. You don’t see Eddie as much as you normally do, but he comes over every now and then to catch you up on how busy he’s been. He’s looking at you differently now, eyes lingering for too long. You don’t notice it at first, his constant heavy stare, more intense then his usual playful one and always on you. 

He’s touching you more. Something your brain noticed after the fifth time the back of his hand grazed across your arm or hip or thigh. It made your whole body light up like a fucking Christmas tree. 

His birthday whirls around. 21. He gets so drunk you find him laid out on his porch on your trip to the mailbox the next morning. His uncle sits on the steps smoking a cigarette, a fond smile on his face. 

He’s back to losing his key and hanging around your trailer by the time graduation comes around. You watch him walk the stage in his green cap and gown, sitting right next to his uncle who sheds a silent tear. Eddie flips his principle the bird after snatching his diploma from his hands. A group of kids cheers rowdily to the left of you, whooping and hollering, and Eddie stands at the edge of the stage with his arms spread wide soaking it all in. 

You don’t expect to see him that night, figured he’d be too busy partying with his friends, so it comes as a shock when there's a knock at your door quarter past eleven. 

“Hey, princess.” He says when you answer the door. He’s leaning against your porch railing with a distinct smile on his face. It reads trouble and you are absolutely smitten. 

“Hey, you. What’s up?” The screen door between you two does nothing to block the early spring breeze from invading your trailer.

“Lost my key.” He says simply. 

“Oh, you did, huh?” You bite back the smile that wants to break across your face. You can tell he’s lying. Can see the little twinkle in his chocolate buttons eyes. 

“Misplaced the damn thing again.”

“You have a problem, Ed.” 

“I need your help, Miss.”

It nearly knocks you off your feet, the tremor in his voice, the desperate pleading cut with a playfulness that short circuits your brain. Eddie smirks, hand reaching towards the door handle. You beat him to it, locking the screen door as he goes to pull it open.

“What do you want, Eddie? I’m about to go to bed.” The tension is too much. If you let him in… 

If you let him in, nothing will be able to stop you. 

“You’re just gonna let me freeze out here?” He whines, dramatically shivering in his leather jacket, vest, and red flannel. 

“Nice try.” You step back, starting to close the inner door when his hand slaps against the aluminum siding of your trailer, trying his hardest to catch your attention before you fully shut him out. 

“I'm starving. I-I’ll sleep in my van but can I just borrow some bread, and peanut butter, and maybe some jelly?” 

And just like that, you finally feel some semblance of control over this boy who makes it his goal to drag the desire out of its dark hidey hole deep within your chest.

Except, it’s not that deeply hidden. Not now. Not after all this time fighting to not feel this way for him. You know you shouldn’t let him in. He’s in a mood, you could tell the second you saw him, and you’re so pent up and horny you're destined to snap. To give in to this unholy feeling that's slowly suffocating you.

But he’s hungry and he’s pouting and giving you those lost puppy eyes…

You unlock the screen door and walk to the kitchen, knowing he’ll trail behind. He always does. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. I thought my stomach was gonna eat itself.” 

You slam through your cabinets and fridge as he stands in the center of your small kitchen. You carry your small load to the kitchen table, dropping the food into a messy pile. Bread, lunch meat, lettuce and tomato, a jar of mayonnaise and a bottle of mustard. 

“You can make it yourself, ya?” You ask and Eddie nods happily. 

“So much better than a PB&J.” He says excitedly, sitting down at the table. You hand him a plate and a knife and decide now would be a good time to finish washing your dinner dishes. 

Time passes quietly. The steady voices from the TV, Eddie’s soft groaning as if this sandwich is the best thing he’s ever eaten. It’s not as difficult to control yourself as you thought it was. But of course, you two aren’t speaking. The mood changes when Eddie opens his mouth. 

“Can I have a drink?” He asks hesitantly, mouth half full and a piece of lettuce hanging out the corner of his mouth as he chews. 

You pop open the fridge and grab one of the sodas you’d bought for him a couple weeks ago. You set it in front of him with a gentle smile. 

“Thanks.” 

It’s a quiet dance, the way his hand somehow brushes your bare leg as you walk back towards the sink. You know he hears the way your breath hitches. Know he has his eyes on you even with your back turned.

He’s cleaned up his mess by the time you’re done with the dishes, wiping your hands off on a dish towel when he makes his way back from the bathroom. You can faintly smell your mouth wash on his breath as he leans next to you to place his plate in the sink.

“I’ll wash it.” He says, looking down at you with a brazen look. The control you felt earlier instantly dissipates. 

“Okay.” 

“You look nice.” 

You roll your eyes at this, partially because it didn’t take him very long to fall back into his flirting but also because these little words really do something for you. All bets are off. If he pushes again there's no doubt you’ll give.

“Just a shirt and shorts.” You say back as he rinses the plate off. 

“Still,” When he’s down he collapses in the kitchen chair with a grunt, digging for his cigarettes he knows he can’t smoke in your house. “I think you look beautiful. Always.” 

“Are you full?” You decide to change the subject. 

“Very. Thank you.” He's quiet for a minute, flicking the wheel on his Zippo as he stares at you. And then, “I’d make you feel better than anyone ever has.” 

You hoist yourself up onto the counter, bare feet kicking against the pale yellow cabinet door, eyes lingering on him from where he sits. His legs are splayed wide, the muscles in his thighs straining against the overly washed black denim. 

“Getting ahead of yourself there, bud.” 

“Am I?” He asks as he sits up slowly, moves as lithe as a snake sizing up its prey. In an instant his whole demeanor has changed. He settles his elbows on his knees, levels you with a pensive look. His dark eyes narrow, but his grin widens and the contrast between the two makes you shiver. 

“You are.” 

“I’m not a virgin.” He says back quickly, a bite to his voice that doesn’t go amiss and you chuckle. He doesn’t like that, you can see it in the way his eyebrows wrinkle at the bridge of his nose. 

“Never said you were. You’re just young, Eddie, and I’m not a high school girl who doesn’t know any better.” Okay, so maybe you weren’t going to allow yourself to give in so easily. Where’s the fun in that?

He chuckles dryly as he raises from his seat. He steps in front of you, not touching, but his hands fist at his sides like he wants to. Like he longs for it. 

“Bold of you to assume I even mess with those high school girls.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, the groupies that hang out at The Hideout? Wait at the stage to tell you how good you are with your fingers?” There’s more bite to your words than you intend but if it fazes him he doesn’t seem to show it. His hot rough palms find the chilly hills of your kneecaps, his eyes flickering down to the exposed skin as he smooths his thumb there, before he’s locked back onto your withering gaze. 

“You sound jealous, Sweetheart.” 

And you laugh at this, a quick belly laugh that has your head falling back against the cabinet behind you. You laugh because you are fucking jealous and you hate yourself for it. You shouldn't be jealous of your freshly twenty-one year old neighbor burying his cock into a pussy that isn't yours. But fuck, it sears through you like a hot knife, made even worse as he eclipses the space that's left between you two. 

“I’m not jealous.” You scoff while your body is ravaged with the flames of his touch. “I’m sure you’ve fucked any girl that let you put your hands up her skirt. But I’m not some easy little girl.” 

“A woman.” His voice is entirely mocking as he ignores the hateful crassness in your words. 

“Yeah, a woman, and it takes more than some sloppy head and eager dick to make me come.” 

He settles himself between your legs, hands sliding up the expanse of your thighs until his fingertips dig into the flesh right below the hem of your little sleep shorts. He leans in, the smell of the weed he must have smoked before he came over lingering on his clothes and hair; the smell strong enough to have you feeling intoxicated. 

Or, maybe that was all him. 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of, sweetheart.” You want to wipe that smug grin away, slap him across his pretty face so he stops this before it goes too far, but one quick intrusive thought sends your mind into a tizzy. 

He’d like it. Little fucking masochist. 

“I’m not some innocent little kid, baby, I’d fuck you so good you wouldn’t remember your name.” 

As sexy as he sounds, as good as it sounds, you roll your eyes at his self assuredness. This sweet boy, the same boy that's confided in you about his past with tear filled eyes and spent hours blabbing about his DnD campaigns, saying he’d fuck you like an animal just feels so absurd. Yet it arouses you just as much, has your panties damp and sticking to your slick folds.

“You say that to all the girls you fuck?” 

“See; jealous.” He hisses back, eyes so dark and blown wide you can barely see their beautiful umber color.  

“Not jealous.” You shake your head, eyes begging to look away from his intense stare down, but you can’t. You’re trapped in his hypnotic slow blink as his eyes flash to your pursed lips. 

“I think you’re lying.” He argues, a harsh whisper as his head tips against yours. Your breath leaves in a choked rush when he nuzzles his nose into the side of your head, teeth nipping your earlobe. 

“Eddie.” You warn weakly, your hand splayed against his firm chest as you go to push him away, but Eddie has other ideas. He snatches your wrist up in a tight grip, guiding your hand slowly down his stomach until you're cupping his hard bulge. He’s hot under your touch and you both gasp in unison when he squeezes your hand against the heavy ridge of him under his denim. 

“Eddie…” You try again halfheartedly, head knocking against his as his cock twitches at the breathy whimper of his name. 

“Do you see what you do to me? You make me so hard." He rolls his hips up, drags his hard cock over your palm. His moan rumbles like thunder in his chest. “Want you so bad, I know you want me too.” 

“It’s not gonna happen, Eddie.” You whisper back, try with all your might to steel yourself, to make your words sound steady and sure. You want to. Fuck, you really really want to. But there's still that part of you attempting to resist the burning flames of desire. “You’re a kid.” 

“I’m not a fucking kid.” He growls, grips the underside of your knees to drag you further into him. You can feel him against the inside of your thigh, hot and pulsing and begging to be touched. 

“It’s wrong, Eddie, please.” Your hands are braced against the counter as he presses his forehead to yours, pushes against you until your back is arched. Your core presses against his cock in the most agonizing way in this new position, stealing the breath from your lungs as he hovers his lips over yours. 

“But it feels so good. Stop pushing me away. I’m a grown ass man, sweetheart.” His teeth drag quickly against your bottom lip and as he pulls away you chase after unconsciously, needing his touch -his taste- as much as he needs yours. 

“Fuck, you’re not making this easy for me. I have morals, you know.” You’re whining, head rolling to the side as he slowly starts to grind his hips into yours. 

“Oh, your poor morals.” His hand is gripping your jaw in an instant, fingertips digging almost too roughly into the soft hollow of your cheeks. “You’re so sure you’re gonna corrupt me, which is laughable. Don’t you see, baby?” Eddie soothes his thumb across your bottom lip, drags it down till it bounces gently back in place. 

“I want you to corrupt me. Use me. Teach me everything you know, everything you want, so you’ll never need anyone but me.” 

His words hit you square in the chest but he doesn’t give you a second to interrupt. He has a point to prove and nothing will stop him now. 

“I know you feel it, this thing between us that I felt the moment I saw you in that sexy little robe and your muddy rain boots. That night changed everything for me. You’re the only person who really sees me. I know it. Just like I know how hard it’s been for you. Resisting me, telling yourself how wrong it is and then moaning my name when you touch yourself in the dark of your room while I’m right down the hall. You can’t deny the cold hard truth, Sweetheart.” 

Your eyes widen as you pull away from him. He lets you create space, lets you digest the bomb he just dropped on you. He’d heard you that night. You’d been so careful, so quiet. At least you thought you had. 

“Tell me you want me. Let me make you feel good, baby. I know you need it. It’s been so long, hasn’t it? Since someone has touched you; since someone made you come.” He’s so sure of himself. So sure that he’s hit the proverbial nail on the head. That he’s got you all figured out. You’re torn between giving him credit for being so observant and being pissed that he’s using it against you. But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since you’ve allowed yourself to be swept off your feet by someone. So long since you’ve felt a touch other than your own and here he was offering himself up on a silver platter with the promise of rocking your world. 

What was the use in fighting something that you both equally wanted? Two consenting adults giving in to the burning flames of desire. 

“Eddie-” He cuts you off quickly, his hips still against you, his hands digging into your fleshy hips. 

“Please, give me a chance.” His voice begs, thick with need and worry. He doesn’t want to go back to being alone if you say no. He’s well aware that the words leaving his mouth and the grip he has on you changes everything. 

“Eddie.” You grab him by the tattered collar of his flannel, pull him in until your lips brush his. “Shut up and kiss me already.”

He wastes no time slamming his lips to yours in an eager sloppy kiss. You kiss him back, waiting for him to slow his pace, to calm down a little, but he just presses himself closer and grips the back of your neck in a shaky hold. The blunt crescent of his fingernails digs into the sensitive skin of your neck. His other hand leaves its bruising grip on your hip to hold you tight to him, chest to chest, hearts pounding in tandem against one another. 

You let him lead, let him find his groove. Sloppy wet kisses turn slow and true, his nose bumping yours, his tongue licking into your mouth tantalizingly. The first time he does it you whimper, sure that if you had been standing you would have been weak in the knees. But you’re still locked onto the counter top, thighs clenched tightly around his waist, the heel of your foot digging into the backs of his thighs. You fought this for so long. One taste and now you’re not sure if you can let him go. 

But that’s something to think about another time and not when Eddie has a handful of your breast, thumb rolling tight circles around your pebbled nipple that pokes through the fabric of your shirt. 

“I knew you fucking wanted me.” He teases once he pulls away, a string of spit collected against kiss swollen lips. His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are ruddy and he looks so god damn beautiful in the soft lighting of your kitchen. 

You know there's no stopping you now. No going back. You were always just preventing the inevitable. You want him, you always have, and here he is serving himself up on a silver platter.

"Shut up and fuck me already, you punk."

[urhoneycombwitch]

like a fern

foreword: this feels super vulnerable to post but maybe that’s the point!!! pls check cw before reading. obviously, non-binary+genderqueer folks existed in the 80’s, but I’m writing from the POV of a reader who does not have the language to describe their dysphoric feelings. proceed with gentleness and take care of yourself. this one’s for the queers <3

cw: AFAB reader with breasts (non-sexual mention), reader is non-binary but doesn’t have the words to self-describe as such, discussions of gender and sexuality, Eddie is also queer, love and understanding from an also-queer partner <3

wc: 1.4k

Indiana summer is in full swing, record-breaking temperatures keeping everyone indoors and away from the punishing sun.

Eddie and you are sprawled on the trailer’s twin mattress, well-used to making the small space fit you both.

He’s flopped on his back, rambling about the woes of trying to align ten different busy schedules for a night of D&D while you half-listen. An ancient box fan leans against his dresser nearby, pointed at the foot of the bed and doing its best to circulate the muggy air.

You’re stretched out on your stomach, arms curled in, hands tucked into the hollows of your shoulders. In order to maximize air flow over warm skin, you’ve stripped down to just a sports bra and cut-off denims, Eddie in similar fashion with just a pair of cotton boxers slung low on his pale hips.

He’s currently cursing capitalism and the jobs that keep his friends too busy for play, a familiar rant that’s less fiery this time around as his voice is muted with heat-sleepiness; dark curls spill around his face and shoulders, fanned out against the pillow behind his head, long lashes sweeping with each blink.

You’ve never known a boy so pretty in all your life. Didn’t even know that boys could be pretty, until you met Eddie.

As he talks, you let your eyes drop from his face to his bare chest, something like envy unfurling as you note the smoothness there, the near-concavity of the space above his ribs.

Not for the first time, you wish you were matching.

There’s a deep pit of yearning that quickly spirals into longing, whenever you think about how Eddie fits into tank tops or goes shirtless with ease- something that has recently taken shape into something less about wanting to be similar to the love of your life, and more like self-applied jealousy.

As if in psychosomatic answer, your breasts begin to squish uncomfortably from lying on your front; when you shift to change the pressure, bare arm unsticking tackily from Eddie’s, he stops mid-ramble to look down the slope of his nose at you.

“Everything okay?” He stretches a ringed pointer finger to coast over the skin of your neck, lightly and soothing. “Sorry it’s like a goddamn oven in here. If I was rich I’d build you an ice house just for sitting in.”

Your eyes flutter at his touch, smile pulling at the corner of your mouth. “Nah. S’okay. It’s not the heat.”

“Then what?” Curiosity piqued, Eddie props himself up on his elbows. The silver chain around his neck slides over his pec; he catches you staring, then gives you a wolfish grin, misinterpreting your look. “Ah. Right. Of course. Feelin’ a little hot and bothered?”

“Only because it’s hot and you’re bothering me,” you snip, squirming uncomfortably again when the band of your sports bra digs in. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. What were you saying about burning the workforce to the ground?”

Eddie’s not so easily dissuaded from the source of your discomfort. Childishly, he pokes at your cheek, emphasizing each demand- “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me or I swear to god I’ll start screaming my head off until you spill your guts and Mrs. Trainer will call the cops again and it’ll be a whole thing-”

“Christ, Eddie.” You swat his hand away, and he recedes, triumphant, boring a hole into the side of your head with expectant watching. “Ugh. Fine. It’s-”

Words tangle in a confusing jumble at the forefront of your mind, twisting and warping around each other. Your throat feels dry so you clear it, burrowing the side of your face into the pillow for comfort, brows pinching together as the simplest words of the lot spill from your tongue like a midnight confession.

“I don’t think I’m a girl.”

Your pained expression is obscured by the pillow, so Eddie’s still playful, mattress jiggling as he flops backwards again. “Not a girl, huh? So what are you… man, mollusk, or mammal?”

He quiets when he realizes you’re not laughing. “Hey...”

Since your eyes are still obscured, your sense of hearing and touch fill in the gaps- Eddie looping an arm around your waist, ends of his hair tickling your upper back as he leans in to nose at your ear- “Talk to me. Tell me again, I won’t poke fun. What’s up?”

The tightness in your chest eases some as the steady weight of his arm works as a grounding force, enough to coax part of your face and mouth out from the confines of the pillow to repeat, “I don't think I’m a girl.”

“Okay,” Eddie responds, immediate and caring, thumb stroking soft against your spine. “A boy, then?”

“No.” You mirror Eddie’s earlier movements, propping up to your own elbows, grateful when he doesn’t move his hand from you but still keeping your eyes fixed on the faded floral pattern of the pillowcase. “Not a boy. Something… in between? Or maybe neither…? I dunno yet.”

The more you try to give a name to the feeling, the faster it runs like water through a fist. You’re just about to make another bid to drop the issue when Eddie uses his free hand to snap his fingers, dark brows nearly touching his fringe in an expression of a lightbulb moment.

“Adiantum pedatum.”

This time when you frown, it’s from bewilderment. “…what?”

“Adiantum pedatum,” he says again, fingers trailing mindlessly up the length of your back while he explains. “Well, that’s the scientific name, at least- the five-fingered fern. It’s native to our region, was reading about it in one of Dustin’s nerdy plant books. They reproduce asexually, can’t be labeled as male or female ‘cuz they’re in their own category. Rad, right?”

He’s sparkling with the idea, chocolate eyes lit up the same way you’ve seen after a successful campaign or a band session that ran long with an abundance of artistic flow.

“Kinda like you,” Eddie says, softly, smiling easily up at you. “In your own category. Can’t be contained, sometimes.”

“But-” There’s still a sticky, confusing feeling attached to the idea, one that you’re trying to parse out as your fingers dig into fabric. “What if it wasn’t just some times? What if I felt like this all the time?”

“That’s cool, too,” Eddie affirms. His hand tracks a path from your lower back up to your neck, rings cool against your skin as he swipes a thumb against the apple of your cheek. “Sounds lonely to carry all by yourself, though. I’m glad you told me.”

There hasn’t been any room in your complicated introspection for excitement or joy, thus far, but the way Eddie’s talking about it causes a wave of tension release, of gratefulness, overwhelm in the form of tears pricking at your eyes. “And you don’t think it’s… weird? Like, it doesn’t freak you out knowing I feel this way?”

“Psh.” He rolls his eyes, dismissive, humor leaking back in. “Freak me out? Me? Did you get heatstroke and forget who you’re talkin’ to? I wear your underwear for fun. You call me beautiful and it turns me on. I’m no stranger to the Weird and Devious.”

“Fair point,” you muse, forehead dropping like a magnet to press into Eddie’s shoulder. He wraps you in a brief, sweaty squeeze of a hug before dropping it to let the fan air breeze over the both of you once more.

“You’ll tell me if you don’t like one of my girly nicknames for you, right?’ Eddie asks, contemplative but already returning to that faded, sleepy tone. “Angel and princess and sweetie. That kind of stuff. I’ll have to get more creative but it’s worth it for you.”

“Don’t ever stop calling me angel,” you whisper, breath hushing warm against the curve of his shoulder as you settle into the solid security of his body. “Think I might wilt like a five-fingered plant.”

The width of his palm spans the back of your head as he pets you with the last bit of pre-nap energy he can muster.

“You’re hot like a fern,” he murmurs, with tender finality. “Pretty like the forest.”

[shares-a-vest]

(ready for some easter/spring-themed nonsense from me this week???)

“Steve!”

Steve merely hums, nosing further into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie taps him on the shoulder whispering, “Oh my god, Steve.”

Steve growls, clearly misinterpreting his tone and tightens his grip on Eddie's hips.

Like yeah, he’s making out with Steve in the middle of the woods out the back of the Harringtons’ house in Loch Nora. They’re on a comfy huge blanket, Eddie straddling Steve’s lap and having a grand old time after a delicious picnic lunch Steve had put together.

But there’s something more pressing at hand.

Eddie rolls his eyes, slides one hand up Steve’s chest (earning a hip thrust) and pushes himself back.

Steve whines, detaching himself from Eddie’s neck with a childish humf.

“Whaaaat!”

The poor thing looks flustered, his right cheek pinking up, hair all tousled, shirt collar askew with a reddening mark Eddie had been working on before he got distracted.

Eddie pinches Steve's cheeks with one hand, creating pouty fish lips as he slowly turns his boyfriend's head in the direction of what has him suddenly uninterested in a make-out session.

A white rabbit hopping about, picking at grass about three feet away.

“Oh, no... Eddie!” Even though he is mumbling through squished-up cheeks, Steve is obviously more than a little annoyed.

“But it’s a rabbit!” Eddie stage-whispers, not tearing his eyes away from the fluffy furball.

At a glacial pace, he frees Steve from his grip, carefully lifting off him with minimum movement. Steve whines again, loud and it spooks the creature enough for it to take a giant leap in the opposite direction before continuing to sniff about.

Eddie pivots on his knees and makes grabby hands at their picnic basket.

“Gimmie those stupid celery sticks,” he commands in a whisper.

“No!” Steve also whispers, crossing his arms.

“Yes!” he insists. “Besides, why would you pack such a noxious weed for me to eat?”

Steve lightly shoves him, picks up the basket and drops it down in front of Eddie with a loud enough thud he whips around to look at the rabbit. Thankfully, it hasn't moved.

Eddie begins crawling towards the rabbit, celery sticks clenched in his hands as Steve huffs and flops back on the plaid blanket, his hair flying forward as he goes down. Eddie moves along, gradually settling down to an army crawl as he ventures closer and holds out a lone stick of celery.

“Come here, little guy,” he coos, wiggling the treat.

The rabbit turns, hops towards him and starts sniffing at the celery. When the creature sticks its head forward for the food, Eddie reaches out a tentative hand for a gentle pat. The rabbit allows it, concentrating on devouring the celery. The distraction emboldens Eddie to sit now, waving a hand back around to give Steve a thumbs up.

Once it’s done eating, the rabbit nuzzles at Eddie’s knee as he continues stroking its back. Ever so gracefully, he loops a hand under the thing to scoop it up. The rabbit goes willingly and Eddie turns back to the picnic, beaming as he scratches behind furry ears.

“Ew, no!” Steve whisper-scoffs, shooting upright. “Don’t pick it up!”

“Oh come on, Stevie. He’s so cute!”

He begins walking back to the blanket when Steve waves his hands in protest.

“Don’t you come back onto this blanket, Eds!," Steve warns, still inexplicably choosing to whisper as he raises a flat palm to stop him. “You’re covered in dirt!”

Eddie eases down, sprinkling dirt (ranging from smaller granules to clumps) from his clothes all over the blanket. Steve whines and begins brushing at the mess, only managing to now smear it on the picnic blanket.

Oh well, one less piece of plaid-something for the Harrington household...