#why are you suddenly stuttering around Eddie?

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Oliver saying Buck has never had to work to get a love interest, oh I want to see Buck so giddy and clumsy and awkward and just completely out of sorts when he finally realizes he has a crush on Eddie. So much so that the rest of the fire fam looks at him like “Boy, are you good???” 😭

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Different First Meeting I NSFW I Public Indecency I 2.8k words

He's planted. Call him The White Tree of Gondor, he's so planted. Nothing and no one could move him from this spot.

He's going to have perfect line of sight to center stage, as long as no one over 6’3” stands in front of him. He's got his good boots on, giving him a solid three inch lift.

Some people come and go, not as dedicated to keeping their spot. Not Eddie. He's planted.

“You think he moved back?” Some chick yells behind him.

“Doubt it,” her companion yells back, “the point was to get closer.”

“Well I don't know if I can deal with closer. It's only going to get worse when the band goes on, and I'm at my limit for men touching me today.”

“I'm pretty sure there's beer in my hair.”

“A fate worse than death,” she mocks him, making Eddie chuckle. “You wanna bail? He can come find us after.”

“I don't know, Rob, he's just a kid. What if he gets scared?”

“Oh my god, he's sixteen.”

“He's short!” The guy yells shrilly, practically in Eddie's ear. “No way he can see over top everyone's head.”

“Okay, then you stay, dingus. I'm going to go pay $12 for a bottle of water. Come find me after.”

“Rob! C'mon, don't- Rob! Ah shit.”

Eddie almost turns to give the guy some reassurance but he can't, making friends in the crowd is how you end up getting pulled into another direction. He can't chance it. He's planted.

Not to mention his friend was right, the more time that passes, the more packed in they become. Once or twice the guy behind him gets jostled into Eddie's back, mumbling apologies each time. Eddie doesn't bother to reply.

He's determined to ignore the guy until suddenly they're pressed front to back, shoulder to calf, the guys massive hands wrapping solidly around Eddie's waist so they don't fall down, and he's fucked. Suddenly the guy behind him is all he's thinking about.

Of course this turn of events sends the poor guy into apology overdrive, hands ripped back immediately as he stutters his excuses.

Eddie waves it off, still not turning away from the front, but the urge is strong. He kind of needs to see if the guy is as hot as that ten second press against him would suggest. Christ on a bike, he even smells good. At least Eddie is pretty sure that's him, the pine/sugar/sweat combo.

A glance at his watch tells him they've got maybe another ten minutes until the show starts. Five minutes ago that would've been all he would've cared about but now he's got Hot Boy Brain Rot and can't focus.

Which is why the next time they get pushed together, Eddie does absolutely nothing to help correct, he lets the guy pull him back and very nearly fall flat on their asses. The only reason they don't is because they fall into the people pressing forward.

“I swear to god, I'm not doing this on purpose,” the guy says with a chuckle that warms Eddie’s already sweaty skin. He hasn't let go yet, his enormous hands hold Eddie upright, skin on skin where his shirt has been cropped.

He's lost his mind completely, because he puts his own hands on the ones circling his waist and squeeze, a soft acceptance of their predicament. It could mean nothing if the guy is straight - maybe, probably, he's not good at judging that sort of thing - but if the hot guy standing behind him is in any way interested, he'll understand.

And praise Dale, raise hell, he does! Long fingers tighten, slide, tighten, before letting go again. He's pretty sure the guy just stuck his thumbs into the indents at the top of his ass too.

Which is when he realizes there's a not zero percent chance the guy thinks Eddie is a girl.

He forgot he's wearing a kilt, which idiots seem to think is a skirt 70% of the time he has it on. Combining that with his hair being down and the fact that he hasn't turned around at all… Fuck.

You're 6’2” right now. Maybe that's enough of a hint. Or your hairy legs? No, it's way too dark to see that far down, no way he-

Eddie squeaks as the guy runs a finger tip along the edge of the kilt. Luckily, it's too loud for the sound to travel, that would've been devastating.

The guy leans forward and whisper/yells, “Is this okay?” into his ear.

Eddie nods, takes a miniscule step back, bringing himself closer. He's gonna take this as far as he can before they either get kicked out for indecent acts or the guy realizes what he's doing and bashes Eddie for ‘tricking him.’ The smart thing to do would be to fucking turn around and confirm his stupid gender but… it's nice feeling wanted for a moment. Nice enough for whatever the consequences are.

An arm snakes around his middle, a fucking nice arm, all sinewy and freckled and brown, causing a surge of giddiness. They're pressed together again, this time on purpose. The guy seems to instinctively know Eddie has this spot picked out because he doesn't let anyone push them or get between. He does, however, laugh every time they get jostled closer together. It's infectious too, makes him smile along every time he hears that giggle. If the guy doesn't stop being adorable soon, Eddie is gonna fall in love.

Whoops. Too late. There's an enormous cock pressed up against his ass; any semblance of control or ability to play it cool goes right out the window.

He's never been more proud of himself for taking up street hockey with Jeff and his cousins than this moment. Some asshole had said to him, years ago now, ‘No one wants a bottom with a flat ass,’ and Eddie let that settle into a deep seated neurosis that pushed him into sports. Casual sports, that actually turned out to be pretty fun, but still…

Anyway, he's got an ass worth pushing against now, which is doing fantastic things for the whole ‘accidently luring a stranger into simulating sex acts at a concert' thing he's got going on.

Good god are they playing with fire right now. Yeah everyone is distracted by the drum tech setting up but it's not like they're invisible here. The guy to Eddie's left is just as close as the one rubbing off against his ass, if he glances down he's gonna see what they're doing. That thought only brings Eddie closer to finishing, untouched, in his underwear. His own erection is being held down by his boxer briefs, which are always a good choice when wearing a kilt. Shit happens in the pit, he's never been keen on flashing his bare ass to everyone if he takes a header.

He's snaking a hand down, trying to be subtle, but he needs to squeeze his dick or he's going to start crying.

His new friend must catch the movement because his right hand follows the trajectory, sliding right along with Eddie’s, until they're both stalled out, cuping his hip instead of his erection. Eddie thinks about passing out, he's so turned on and terrified. Either the guy knows he's about to touch a human penis or he's about to get an unwelcome surprise.

Before Eddie's heart can explode and kill him, three things happen rapid fire:

The lights go completely dark, signifying the start of the show, which makes the already packed stadium lose its collective shit.

Then there's a call from behind, the dreaded, “Heads up!” Eddie only just manages not to burst into tears as his one true love has to let go to support the weight of the asshole crowd surfing above them. He makes sure to pinch the fucker as he takes the weight of his stupid leg as it goes by.

Then, immediately after, there's another crowd surge as the first lick of Blackened rings out around them. Adrenaline pumps through Eddie like a lava flow, two desires waring within him making it impossible to choose. Does he turn to find the man of his dreams or does he stay the course and watch the greatest metal show of all time?

Considering this is the third time he's seen Metallica live, he turns around.

He's gone. The only people behind him now are two chicks with their tits painted white and gold and a middle aged biker.

Awesome.

He keeps looking but no one near fits the right description, not even close. Why the fuck didn't he turn around and just look at the guy? At least then he'd know who to look for after the show.

It's not like his night is completely ruined or anything. He jumps in the closest pit and takes his disappointment on the poor bastards unlucky enough to crash into him, and he has a splendid time with that. It wasn't his original plan, he wanted to stay center stage and actually watch the show this time, but he's too keyed up to stand still now, better to shove his fellow man and get elbowed for his troubles.

By the time James is wailing out the final insane notes of Battery, Eddie is thoroughly beat. It's a slog getting to the back of the stadium but he's determined to beat the crowd to the pissers. The night was fun and all but he's ready to go. Ready to stick his hand down his pants(kilt), relive the oddest and hottest encounter he's ever experienced, and then forget it ever happened.

He's made it as far as the merch line when a familiar voice yells his name. He looks back and sure enough, Dustin Henderson is waving at him like a semaphore code operator. Goofy ass kid, Eddie loves him to death.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asks after giving him a back slapping hug.

“Surprise early birthday gift, I didn't know until yesterday or I would've told you.” His whole body is thrumming with excitement. It must be his first metal show. You wouldn't know it to look at him, he's got a whole mini-Eddie thing happening, which is adorable.

“That's awesome, dude. You didn't want to stay till the end?”

“I already saw their setlist and calculated the timing just right to get in line before the crowd let out.” Of course he did. “What about you? Taking off?”

“Yeah, I've had…a weird night. Good but weird.”

“You wanna ditch in line? Looks like they still have plenty of T-shirts available.”

He laughs. “Nah, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home. I'll see you Saturday?”

“Totally, wouldn't miss it-”

“There you are! Jesus, Henderson, I thought I lost you. Your mom would kill me if something-”

The guy finally stops bitching but only because he's staring at Eddie like he's seen a ghost.

“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, confused.

“Steve! This is Eddie! You know, from Hellfire, at Tech.”

It would be appropriate for them to shake hands, he thinks, but the guy is just staring at him, going more and more red as the seconds pass. It's a good thing he's pretty because his social skills could use some work.

“Hey dingus, did the beer in your hair finally soak into your brain.” The woman standing to Steve's left knocks on his forehead with a knuckle, making him flinch.

“You guys okay?”

Eddie is too busy being strapped into a roller coaster of emotion to respond to Henderson’s quiry. It can't be this easy, fate has never been this kind or cruel to Eddie, not at the same time. His dream man can't be Dustin's babysitter/big brother Steve. That guy drives a BMW and listens to Supertramp, which he only knows because he followed Dustin out to the parking lot one night. Except, Steve is gorgeous and fun and a good dude who worries about his kids, and is smoking hot.

He knows Steve knows he knows now, his own face has gone beet red, and they're just staring at each other, like some kind of gorgon in a bathroom mirror situation.

“What is this? Why are you being weird?” Steve's girlfriend - Rob? - asks. “Wait, oh my god, is Dustin’s other dad, your imagined arch nemesis, the Guy in the Crowd? Holy shit, he totally is, what are the fucking odds!” She cackles.

Wait. He told her about that? And he knew I'm a guy? And he thought we were nemesis? That's so hot.

Dustin is going on about Steve's apparent low self esteem and how Steve needn't worry about his loyalty and how he loves them both equally, which is sweet, but he and Steve are still just staring at each other.

“I know a good diner around here,” he blurts out when Dustin finally shuts up. “They have all you can eat pancakes.”

Steve's eyes do something devastating, adjacent to cows touching grass for the first time. “I like pancakes.”

“Let's get pancakes.”

“Okay.”

They start walking away, dazed, until Dustin reminds them of his presence, loudly and with much insult. “Steve! You drove us here!”

“Shit.” He turns back. “Right. Sorry. C'mon, we're getting pancakes.”

Dustin looks to Rob, as if to say, ‘What the fuck is going on?’ She replies back with a sort of ‘I don't get paid enough to explain this to children’ and ‘I know, he's hopeless but we love him’ both kinda look.

“What?” Steve asks.

“I'm still in line, dude. I want a T-shirt.”

“But-”

“No buts!” Dustin screeches. “Pancakes can wait!”

Eddie wishes they would figure it out soon, he still has to piss.

Rob, bless her, she's Eddie's new best friend, takes Dustin under her arm and asks Eddie, “Where's the diner?”

“25th and Dudley Ave. Called Roxy's.”

“Got it. Go on, I'll bring your son after he's got his stupid shirt.”

Dustin is the epitome of disbelief. “What! No! Guys, don't leave me with Robin!” He yells, to which Robin responds by putting him in a headlock.

“Go! Run before he figures out what's going on.”

Steve doesn't need to be told twice, apparently, he grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks him toward the exit doors. It’s exciting, running away with Steve, even though they’re only running from Dustin. Still, it leaves them both breathless by the time they get to the end of the block, both laughing about how ridiculous it all is.

“God. Haven't run like that since…well the last time the cops were after me.”

Steve just grins, hands on his knees, looking like a former athlete, all deep breaths and physical therapy style stretching. Fucking hot jocks, ugh.

Eddie wants to mount him.

Which brings them up to the awkward part: acknowledging what happened.

Steve braves it first. “Hey, I, uh, I don't want you to think I go around doing shit like that.”

Eddie, ever the opportunistic asshole, says, “Shit like what?” When Steve's face falls to horror, perfectly timed, and Eddie loses it. “I'm kidding, sorry, I'm just fucking with you. It was definitely me.”

“Dick,” Steve says but he's laughing.

“Yeah, that's me.” They sort of instinctively move away from the street, closer to the less busy side storefronts. “In the interest of honesty, I should tell you, I wasn't entirely sure you knew I wasn't a girl, that's why I sort of hesitated right there at the end, before we got separated.”

Steve looks baffled. “Huh?”

“You know.” He waves at himself. “From the back I could be a tall chick. Cause of the kilt and the hair and everything.”

He shakes his head. “Dude, I saw you from like four rows back. Why do you think I stopped where I did?”

Fuck. Okay. That's…awesome. He jams a whole fistful of hair against his face.

“Also, even if you had turned out to be a tall chick, not a deal breaker. You're fucking hot either way.”

“Okay, Romeo, cool it with the compliments before I make you finish what you started right here.”

Jesus tap-dancing Christ, that smirk should be illegal.

“Right here against the jewelry shop window? I'm not opposed.” Eddie very seriously considers the pros and cons of that but before he finishes, Steve laughs. “Better not. I was promised pancakes. And Lord have mercy if Rob and Henderson get there before we do.”

He's right. God dammit.

“Fine but for the record, which I feel goes without saying, I do put out on the first date.”

Steve laughs. “Never would've guessed.”

By the time they get to Roxy's, Steve has his arm around Eddie's waist, pinkie tucked deep into his kilt.

[loserboysandlithium]

Just Friends: Eddie Munson One shot

⚠️Explicit sexual content. Minors DNI⚠️

Summary: You have a friends with benefits situation with Eddie but he wants you to admit that he owns you.

Word count 1.8k

*****

"We're just friends, Eddie." you say for what feels like the hundredth time.

There was nothing about your relationship that was just friends. Late night snuggles, constant flirting and touching, Eddie's clothes basically belonged to you at this point. Not to mention the sexual favors. But you were always worried about changing the label to something more. Scared it would mess things up. But Eddie wanted more. And truthfully, so did you.

It had started with a drunken make out session one night, quickly turning to both of you needing more. A month later and you've touched each other in every way possible. Apart from going all the way. But you both wanted it. Needed it.

“Just friends." he scoffs, scooting closer to you on the couch.

"Mhmm.." you hum nonchalantly, keeping your eyes glued to the TV.

"Why won't you just admit that we're more than friends, baby?" he pouts, gripping your chin lightly, forcing your eyes to meet his. Those big brown eyes.

"Do friends do this?" he whispers, leaning in closer, his soft lips pressing against yours.

"Sometimes I kiss Trina when we're drunk." you tease and he chuckles against your lips.

“I'd like to see that." he smirks.

"I bet you would." you giggle and he shakes his wild hair before burying his face in your neck.

"How about this? Do friends do this?" he mumbles, planting wet kisses up and down your neck.

"Hmm.. maybe." you breathe, letting your head fall back to the couch, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips on your skin. Sucking and nipping. Driving you completely insane already.

"You're a brat, you know that?" he grumbles, biting down, his teeth sinking into your neck.

"Mmm, you like me this way." you moan softly as he soothes the bite with his tongue.

You inhale sharply as you feel his hand land on your inner thigh. His fingers graze along your skin until he reaches your already damp panties.

"Friends?" he raises an eyebrow, pushing the thin lace to the side.

You ignore him purposefully, gasping as his thumb meets your clit, adding pressure as he begins to tease you with small circles.

"Eddie.." you whimper, reaching out, gripping the back of his neck so you can pull his lips back to yours.

He moans into the kiss as you roll your hips, working to get his fingers inside of you. His tongue meets yours hungrily as he gives in and glides two fingers into your pussy.

You both pant into each others mouths as he speeds up his fingers, effortlessly bringing you closer to the high you were so desperately aching for.

He pulls away breathless, an immediate cry falling from your lips as soon as he parts.

"So close.. Eds, I'm so close." you whine, nails digging into the back of his neck as he curls his long fingers.

"Do friends do this, baby?" he hums deeply, working with precision, his fingers like fucking magic as he takes you right to the edge.

"N-no." you stammer. Eddie suddenly removes his fingers, leaving you pissed off and pouty.

“Eddie, what the fuck?" you glare at him.

"We're just friends." he chuckles darkly.

"You're impossible." you groan, quickly hiking your skirt up and straddling his lap on the couch.

You bring your arms around his neck, tangling your hands in his brown curls as you lower yourself down and slowly begin to grind. You feel his hard cock beneath you, making sure to grind directly on his dick.

"Don’t be a tease, sweets." he warns.

"I know you want me, Eddie." you purr, keeping your pace, rolling your hips slowly.

"Like.. all of you?" His taunting demeanor has melted into a puddle as you tease him with the one thing he hasn't had yet.

"Mhmm... you want to fuck me, Eds?"

"Y-yes." he stutters, his hands creeping up the back of your thighs, landing on your ass.

"We’re just friends, right?" you tease, adding a little more pressure to his clothed cock.

"Yep. Mhmm.. Just friends. Whatever you say." he blurts out happily, making you smile.

"Good boy." you taunt, watching as Eddie's eyes darken just a bit. His fingertips dig into your skin pulling you down even closer, the thin material of your panties allowing you to feel every curve of his cock.

"Someone's ready for me." you coo, reaching down and stroking him through his jeans. A rumble comes from his throat as you palm every inch of him.

"Are we- are we really gonna fuck?" he asks, excitement clear on his face. His big brown eyes are wide, a little pout on his plump lips as he waits for your answer. His large hands are still groping your ass. You stand up from his lap and slide your underwear off, letting them fall to the floor giving him a little nod.

Eddie grins widely, hurriedly reaching for his belt, unbuckling it with ease before wiggling out of his jeans. You climb back on his lap, keeping your skirt hiked up. You can feel him beneath you. Rock hard. Fucking huge. God, I can't wait to feel him inside of me.

You lean down to kiss him and he stops you suddenly. "I wanna see the girls." he grins crookedly, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You're so stupid." you shove his shoulder playfully as his hands pull at the hem of your shirt. You reach down pulling your Rolling Stones shirt from your frame, tossing it to the side.

Eddie's lips instantly latch onto your nipple making you moan. He brings his hand to your other breast massaging gently, rolling your nipple between his calloused fingers, sending a jolt straight to your pussy. He grabs your boobs, pressing them together as he swirls his tongue across both of your nipples, the throbbing sensation between your thighs growing with every flick.

"You're so perfect." he mumbles lustfully, his mouth exploring every part of your breasts. He takes his teeth, biting down softly, causing a sweet cry to fall from your lips.

You take his face in your hands, kissing him once again. The world seemed to fade away as soon as your lips made contact. It had become your favorite thing. Kissing him. Your tongues dancing together. His taste. The way he couldn't keep his hands to himself. He wanted to explore every inch of you.

You lift slightly, reaching under you, taking his cock in your hand. You keep your lips on his as you glide his head along your wet folds. You wanted to kiss him but you also wanted to hear him. His dirty sounds. You couldn't decide what would be better.

You keep your lips brushing against his as you gently lower yourself down, the feeling of him stretching you out already has your thighs shaking. Both of your lips part simultaneously, a gasp from you, a filthy fucking moan from him as you sink down and he fills you completely.

Your name leaves Eddie's mouth in a raspy moan as you start to roll your hips, feeling him deep inside. "Oh fuck, Eddie.."

“You feel so good.. ride my cock, baby. Just like that." Eddie's words of encouragement and the pure pleasure of him inside of you pushes you to increase your speed, grinding on his huge cock wildly.

You ignore the slight pain from his size, focusing on Eddie. Watching as he falls apart beneath you. His hand suddenly smacks your ass hard, the sting making you yelp.

"God, this pussy. I fucking knew you'd be sweet. So fucking good. So fuckin’ wet." he grunts as his fingertips dig in even deeper, guiding you up and down his length, making you bounce.

"You're.. you're so big." you cry, bouncing wildly, allowing him to enter fully every time, your slick coating every inch of him. Eddie begins to lift his hips, fucking up into you rapidly as you rest your hands on his shoulders. "F-Fuck.. yes.. Eddie!"

“You like that? You like when your friend fucks you?"

You just nod, unable to speak as he drives into you again and again.

"Do you let all your friends fuck you like this?" he taunts, swiftly picking you up, laying you down on the couch, his dick staying buried deep.This new position gives him leverage to really pound into you. His hands rest on either side of your face as he rolls his hips, slamming into you repeatedly, your boobs bouncing with every wild thrust.

You grasp for him, nails digging into his exposed skin, your eyes struggle to stay open as he takes you over and over.

He hooks your leg on his hip, gripping your thigh tightly, holding it in place as you sink deeper into the couch cushions.

"I- oh my god, Eddie!" his name pours from your lips on repeat as your eyes begin to roll.

“Fucking look at you. Mmm.. gonna make you cum all over my cock. You wanna cum, baby?"

You nod, pulling him closer, aiming to get his lips on yours once again. He brings his fingers to your clit, swiping across rapidly, sending your body into a fit. You grip his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, doing everything in your power to feel him as close as possible.

"Gonna cum.. cum with me. Eddie, cum inside me." you beg, tears flooding your vision from the immense pleasure.

"You want all your friends to cum inside you? Hmm?" he grunts, every thrust is rougher than before. Deeper. Harder.

“No, Eddie! Only you." you cry.

"I'm gonna fill you with my cum, sweetheart. Like a good friend does." he laughs wickedly, his words pushing you to the brink.

"Please..." you plead, tears streaming down your cheeks from trying to hold back. You want him to cum with you.

"You want me, baby? You want me to cum inside you?" In and out, in and out. He's hitting your sweet spot with every roll of his hips, his fingers never resting, quickly rubbing across your clit.

"Yes! Yes, Eddie please!" you scream, your legs shaking wildly, your back arches off the couch, bodies melding together.

"Tell me that you're mine." he burns.

“I'm yours." you breathe.

"Yeah? All mine? Say it again, sweetheart."

"I'm yours, Eddie! All yours!"

"Cum.. cum for me, baby. Soak my fuckin’ cock.”

You let go completely at his words, feeling the rush as your orgasm floods your body and you flood his cock. His lips are on you, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your neck as you spasm around his cock.

Mumbles of adoration and praise come from his plump lips as he fucks you to your highest peak.

"E-Eddie.." you whimper, still needing to feel him.

"Gonna cum, sweet girl." he hums before his lips land on yours, kissing you deeply as his thrusts get sloppy, wet sounds from your drenched pussy making him moan as he gives a few extra hard thrusts, emptying himself inside of you.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as Eddie continues thrusting slowly. Feeling the warmth of your cum mixed together.

"Yours, Eds. I'm yours." you reassure softly, watching that gorgeous smile spread on his lips.

"Fuck yeah you are." he cheeses, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

[queenimmadolla]

eddie, “jealous”, angst

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

“Why are you blowing this out of proportion?!” Eddie’s voice bellowed from behind you as you stormed out of his room with him hot on your trail.

  The last half hour had been spent arguing, speaking over each other instead of listening and you were tired of it. You didn’t want to listen to him anyways and clearly it wasn’t going anywhere so you would be.

  “SHE LIKES YOU, EDDIE! She doesn’t want to be just a customer, she doesn’t want to be your friend, she wants to fuck you!” You shouted back, as you snatched your bag from where you’d left it on the couch and whirled around to face him.

  He was red cheeked, brows cinched together, mouth set in a hard line; one grimace away from being a full blown scowl.

  Eddie floundered a bit, mouth dropping open and shut repeatedly before he found his ground and stuttered out with his arms flying about to emphasize his frustration, “So? So what!? It’s not like I’m gonna drop my pants the second she’s near!” 

  You could only stare at him in disbelief, absolutely offended that your boyfriend was well aware of her interest in him and could be that fucking stupid or that fucking careless with your feelings.

  So, you snapped.

  “‘So?’” 

  Eddie didn’t bother masking the annoyance in his excessively loud sigh, arms and shoulders dropping back as he raised his face towards the ceiling. He knew that fucking tone of yours and what it meant was coming next. 

  “SO YOU DON’T FUCKING INVITE HER OVER TO YOUR HOUSE TO BUY DRUGS! NOT WHEN YOU’VE GOT A LESS INTIMATE FUCKING PLACE ESTABLISHED TO DO YOUR DEALS AT ALREADY, EDDIE!”

  His hands dug for purchase in his hair, “OH MY GOD! Do you HEAR yourself right now? All this because you’re just jealous?!” You didn’t stop, you were back to talking over each other again, “You want her to think she’s special, Eddie? Did you give her a deal for being pretty and flirty?”

  “MAYBE I DID!” 

  Suddenly, you weren’t talking over him anymore. You didn’t even look mad. And that kind of scared him.

  The anger washed right out of you and you looked disengaged from the conversation in a manner so natural it chipped at Eddie’s heart, anxiety sinking into his belly.

  “Okay, I get it.” 

  Eddie sighed, eyes squeezing shut as realized he’d crossed an obvious line in the heat of the moment. You turned, hand on the door and Eddie’s arms darted out, desperate to stop you when you flinched away, causing Eddie to also flinch back but it was the words you so casually spoke next that made him feel like he’d been shot.

  “Please don’t fucking touch me,” The door was opened, and quietly shut behind you.

  Then you were gone and Eddie stood there like an idiot, staring at the door and hoping you’d come right back through it.

[oneforthemunny]

I heard something about angsty fics around here? Am I right? I'm not sure about the plot, but it has to be cowboy eddie!

Pretty please. Something about sweet girl keeping a secret, but a totally innocent one, just to not concern him. But he found out accidentally, and all was a misunderstanding. He talked to her really harshly, accusing her of cheating and not being trustworthy. Something like that plz plz plz

"Thanks, Gare. I think he's gonna love it." You whispered, cradling the landline to your ear. You could hear the creak of the screen door followed by Eddie's heavy boots on the wood floor, heart skipping.

"I gotta go. Thank you. Talk to you soon." You slid around the kitchen wall's corner, slipping the phone back on the hook as silently as you could, wincing at the small click of the phone settling.

"Hey, honey." You greeted, slinking towards Eddie sweetly. "You done already?"

Eddie grunted in response, stripping his socks, tossing them in the laundry room.

Irritation consumed you, though you tried to mask it. Eddie had been so moody lately. You assumed it was because of his birthday. He always got weird around his birthday, which is exactly why you were determined this year to make it a good one.

"Are you hungry? I kept your sandwich in the fridge, since you didn't come in at lunc-"

"-Who were you on the phone with?" A piercing, furrowed brow gaze met yours suddenly. Canopied by matted curls from a day's work, you could still see the deep lines on his forehead, furrowed.

"What?" You chirped, eyes wide, round in caught surprise. Shit, he'd heard you. How the hell had he heard you? You'd been so quiet, so careful, wanting to surprise him. The look of pure shock, it would be priceless.

You expected to see his lips curl in a smirk, shake his head at you, tell you something along the lines of, "c'mon, baby, can't get anything past me, y'know that".

It never came.

Instead, Eddie's eyes flashed in fury- hurt. Nostrils flaring in a deep breath he tried to swallow down, tried to keep his anger from flaring.

"Who were you on the phone with?" Eddie gritted, an eerie steadiness to his tone that had you shuddering, stomach twisting in fear.

"I-I was- I was just calling to check on my prescription." A stuttering of a lie fell from your lips, nails digging into the palms of your hands. "Just calling to see when I needed to go into town to pick it up-"

"-Y'know," Eddie huffed, standing to his full height, looming over you. "If you're gonna fuck around on me, you could have the decency not to do it in my home."

My home. The words, the tone of his voice, it sent icy waves of fear down your spine. The last time Eddie had called the home "his place" was before you moved in, since then it had been shared with the two of you. Our home, our place, ours.

"What?" Your own brows furrowed this time. "I'm not fucking with you-"

"-No, no, no." Eddie shook his head, taking a striding step towards you. "That's not what I said. I said fucking around on me." There was a beat, your face falling in hurt, his steeling in fury. "Because that's what you're doin'? Aren't you? Fucking around on me?"

"Are you out of your goddam mind?" It was your turn to scoff, angry and insulted. "Did Medusa kick you in your fucking head or something?"

"Don't!" Eddie's voice boomed, hand smacking against the doorframe, a loud echoing of a hit. You stilled, eyes wide, he'd never been this angry- not with you at least. Not at you.

"Don't you come in my fucking house, fucking around on me when I've done nothing-nothing but love you!"

"I'm not fucking around on you, Eddie! Christ, have you lost your mind?" You shouted back, taking a furious step towards him, the two of you in a stand off. "I mean, what is the matter with you? You think I-I'm cheating on you?"

"You think I'm stupid?" Eddie sneered, jaw tight. "You sneakin' around, makin' phone calls all day? Runnin' off into town? I might be a lot of things, honey, but dumb ain't one of 'em."

"You are dumb." You snapped bitterly. "Stupid, even. If you think I'm cheating on you. What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Who is he?" Eddie's hands gripped the door frame. "Huh? I deserve to know. Who is he?"

You gawked, baffled, furious, embarrassed. Eddie thought you were cheating? Cheating? How did something so kind, so thoughtful that you were trying to do for him, backfire to this? It made you feel hurt, insulted.

"Who is he?" You scoffed. Eddie's face didn't move, expression not softening, not falling. You could feel the burn filling your chest, your nose, suffocating you.

Stomping over to your purse, you flipped it upside down, dumping the contents of it out. There, amongst the change and hair ties, you snatched the receipts you'd shoved to the bottom of your purse. Business cards, a small neon invitation, and wadded receipts from the party stores, balling them in your hand, flinging them at Eddie's face furiously.

"You want to know who I've been talking to?" You sneered, watching Eddie scan the receipts, face slowly falling as he read the item- a birthday cake written confirmation note order with the small note added, "Happy Birthday, Eddie!" in red piping. The date for next Saturday, his birthday.

"I've been on the phone with Gareth." You spat, trying to swallow the tears already brimming your waterline. "I've been sneaking around and trying to plan you a surprise party, because I wanted you to have a good birthday for once."

Eddie felt sick, a wave of nausea crashing over him, head spinning in a dizzying ache. A small invitation, "Shh! It's a secret!" in bold, funky lettering on the invitation, Gareth's address written below.

"Oh." Eddie croaked. His eyes met yours again, though this time, he wore the rounded look of shame. "I, um, I-I didn't me-"

"-You're a fucking asshole." You spat, blinking through tear stained vision, stomping up the stairs in a hurt fury, ignoring his cries and pleas that you cut off with the slamming of the bedroom door.

[italiansteebie]

He heard the news, and suddenly everything was moving 1,000 miles an hour. The only thing Steve could think about was Eddie. Was he scared? Did he run? What happened? And suddenly they’re in the boat house, poking around one minute, the next, a jagged piece of glass was pressed to his jugular.

“Steve?”

And then it was over, Eddie dropped the broken bottle and slumped against his chest, heaving sobs making their way out, body wracking as he cried. “Shhh, it’s okay, Eds.” He soothed, pointedly ignoring the confused glances from the rest of the group.

They sunk to the floor together, Steve caressing Eddie’s hair. “It’s okay, babe. Breathe, just breathe with me.” Eddie’s sobs stuttered to an end, “She broke in front of me, Steve, I- I knew you said this shit bad but, damn it, Steve.” His voice came out wrecked and broken. Steve sighed, “That’s exactly why I didn’t want you getting mixed up in this shit with me, Eds. I- I can’t lose you.”

Eddie reared back, “And you think I can lose you, Steve?! I can’t.”

“Ed-”

“No! I can’t. Okay?”

Eddie cradled Steve’s face, tear tracks drying and breath returning normal, Steve reached to wipe away a stray tear, tucking Eddie’s hair behind his ear. They were lost in the moment until Dustin broke the silence, “What the fuck.”

“Language.”

“Watch it, Henderson.”

Dustin eyed them, “Okay. Now I see where you guys get it. Weird. Um. Do you want to explain?” Dustin and Robin watched as they silently communicated, eyes flicking towards each other in confusion. “We-” They started in unison, giggling at each other before Steve continued. “We’re dating.” Dustin blanches and Robin looks like she’s about to pass out.

“You’re gay?”

“Bisexual,” is the unison response, “We- Uh. How’d you meet?” Dustin splutters, watching the blush spread across Steve’s face. Eddie grinned, “Stevie here got himself locked inside the mall last summer, and it was just his luck that I was there graffitiing the side of it and heard him crying. I was his white night.”

Steve scoffed, “I was NOT crying,”

“Pfft. Stevie, you were weepin’ like a baby, sweetheart.”

Dustin gags at the pet names, and Robin is just staring at them, starry eyed.

“So there’s… I’m not,” Steve smiles softly at her, “Yeah, Robs. You aren’t alone,” She gives a soft smile back before the lightbulb goes off. “Wait! That’s why you reacted so well to Tammy!” She’s spinning around, and suddenly there’s a finger in Steve’s face, “You had the NERVE to make fun of Tammy, when you're dating HIM?”

“Hey!”

“Shut up, Eddie. Does that mean- Does he know?”

Steve shrugs, “I didn’t have anywhere to go after the russians. I hadn’t told him yet but… The truth came out when his uncle Wayne was patching me up.” Robin’s gaze on Eddie turned thankful.

They were all caught up in a soft moment when the sirens of a cop car broke the peace, “Oh, fuck, I forgot I’m running from the cops.” Eddie says, a little shell shocked.

“Don’t worry, we can go back to my place,” Steve reassures, and never the serious, Eddie waggles his eyebrows at this, to which Dustin and Robin share simultaneous gags, and Steve pushes at his shoulder.

“What? Oh, yeah. Running from cops, don’t make jokes Edison.” He’s muttering to himself as they move to Steve’s car, ducking down and dodging suspicious eyes. Once in and buckled, Dustin gives a pointed look towards the metal head in the passenger seat.

“Edison?”

And the tense atmosphere lifted ever so slightly.

[livwritesstuff]

ok you heathens here's the full hopper&steve 'okay dad 🙄' fic bc y'all liked this post so much

snippet below the cut

“Oh, because every girl who’s into dudes is into you? A little cocky, are we, Harrington?” Eddie grins.

Steve grins even wider, “I dunno, Eddie, you tell me.”

The smile on his face and the way his eyes keep darting to Eddie’s lips tell a pretty overt story of exactly how Steve would like for him to do that, but –

“Your sister’s in the next room, man, I don’t–”

Steve makes a face.

“Obviously we’re not gonna, like, do anything. That’d be so fuckin’ weird, but we can just, like, make out a little, I dunno. That’s just as good to me.”

And Eddie has to fight the urge to gape at Steve like an idiot because what does he mean making out is as good as sex? Eddie had known Steve was a romantic at heart but Christ alive was Eddie not at all prepared for exactly how revealing this night would be.

“C’mon,” Steve continues, “Why’d you even come over then?”

Again, Eddie has to fight the urge to argue that point of his, because why did he agree to come over if he really thought nothing was gonna happen? How can he explain that there’d been a voice in his head urging him to take Steve up on the offer purely for an excuse to spend time – any kind of time – with the guy he’d sworn up and down would only ever be a hook-up.

He can’t, obviously.

“Fine,” Eddie sighs as he lets Steve pull him up onto the bed. He acts all resigned about it too, like he’s doing Steve a favor even though Eddie would be lying through his damn teeth if he tried to say he disagreed with Steve’s whole thing about making out.

On the contrary, he’s learning these days that there’s just as much intimacy in kissing as there is in sex – if not much more. Eddie has had his fair share of hook-ups with a partner who refused to kiss him because it’d be taking things too far. Not Steve though. Steve’s got nothing but enthusiasm as he hauls Eddie up onto the bed, one hand slipping under the hem of his t-shirt, the other curving around the back of his neck as he tugs Eddie forward and collides their lips together. No, he’s nothing but alacrity as he licks into Eddie’s mouth, his hands roaming wherever they can reach, and it’s not like Eddie’s not into it, so he has no trouble matching Steve’s enthusiasm, the kiss turning sloppy and wet, and Eddie grabbed low on Steve’s waist, basically the hinge of his thigh, because he knows Steve likes when he does that, and he dislodges the hand Steve has beneath his shirt and pins it above his head because he knows Steve likes that too.

Eddie lets himself get lost in the kiss, in the way Steve’s free hand is tangled up in his hair, and his hips are stuttering up against Eddie’s thigh every now and then, and while Eddie’s not grinding against Steve, per se, they’ve definitely got a rhythm of something going on, and so Eddie really has no idea they’re being interrupted until someone is shouting, “Hey!” and suddenly Eddie is being shoved off of Steve

[ladykailitha]

Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 1

Hello! Sorry it's been nothing but one-shots lately, but as I said in this post here I haven't abandoned anything, my life has just got a little crazy lately.

This was conceived because my sister's former mother-in-law passed away due to massive heart failure a week ago and I chose to write this story as a way with dealing it. I didn't know her well, but I did know her and that's enough I think to feel some grief at her passing. She was a year younger than my dad.

Summary: Eddie and Wayne have to go back to Kentucky when Eddie's grandmother (and Wayne and Al's mother) passes. Steve comes along when Eddie suggests that he would feel better if he came. Along the way they learn about each other's pasts and find out that they are each other's future.

***

Eddie walked into the Family Video and had to stop and gaze fondly at the sight before him. Steve was draped over the counter reading a magazine and steadfastly ignoring the bell above the door that announced his arrival.

He got up to the desk and greeted affectionately, “Hey, Stevie.”

Steve bolted straight up and ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh hi, Eds. I didn’t realize that it was you.”

Eddie smiled for the first time in days.

Steve grinned back. “You know, a boy could start to think you were avoiding him. You know, since I haven’t seen you around in days.”

Eddie winced, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. “Sorry, man. I had family stuff.”

Steve’s teasing grin slid off his face. “Shit. I’m sorry. That was a dick move.”

Eddie waved his hands. “No, no. There was no way for you to know. In fact, that’s why I’m here. To make sure you don’t think that I’m avoiding you. Because I wouldn’t. You see Wayne and I have to go back to Ashland for a funeral.”

Steve’s already contrite expression softened further. “Oh, Eds. That’s awful. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

Eddie’s eyes welled up and before the first tear could fall, Steve was over that counter and wrapping him up in his arms.

“I’ve got you, Eds,” Steve murmured. “I’m here now.”

Eddie sobbed and sobbed as Steve just gently rubbed his back until he calmed down enough to talk.

“It’s Uncle Wayne’s mom, my grandma,” he explained, clutching Steve’s shirt like a life line. “She was just the sweetest old lady and now she’s gone. I’m going to miss her.”

“Oh, Eds,” Steve murmured. “I’m sorry. That must just be awful for you. If there is anything I can do, just let me know.”

Eddie chuckled into Steve’s work vest. “Too bad you can’t come with. I think I’d feel braver about seeing all Dad’s family again if you were there.”

Steve grabbed his biceps and pushed him back gently. “Done.”

Eddie stuttered and sputtered. “Stevie, no...”

Steve picked up the phone on the counter and dialed a number. “Stevie yes.”

And Eddie watched in awe horror as Steve’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears and he rubbed his nose.

“Keith?” Steve said, his voice rough as if he had been doing the crying. “Yeah, I just got a call from my mom. My grandmother has died and I have to go to Kentucky for the funeral.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. He didn’t even know that Steve knew where Ashland was.

“Yeah, my mom is from Lexington,” Steve said with a wink at him. “A real southern belle. I’ve seen pictures of her debutante ball and everything.”

Eddie snorted, because of course she was.

“I would need at least a week,” Steve was saying. “With the reading of the will and all.”

Eddie scoffed. If there was a will, he very much doubted there would be anything as formal as a reading of the damn thing.

“Oh thank you so much,” Steve sniffled. “I’ll even call Robin and let her know about her needing to pick up a few shifts.”

And like that Steve had gotten the week off.

“And the award for best crocodile tears to get out of working goes to Steve Harrington!” Eddie said, waving his hands back and forth. “Holy shit, man, how did you do that?”

Steve snorted. “As any good actor will tell you in order to cry on command, you just need to think about something that makes you cry.”

Eddie frowned. “What did you think of?”

Steve just shrugged. “What time are you guys leaving?”

“Tomorrow, early,” he said. “But serious, dude, even after that stellar performance, you don’t really have to come. Take the week off. Enjoy life for a change.”

Steve shook his head. “I would just be at home worried about you. Don’t make me stay. Please. Not when you said you would feel better with me there.”

Eddie’s shoulders slumped as he gave in. “Of course I want you there, but I would be selfish to take you away from your family for so long. Robin, Dustin...the rest of the them all need you too.”

Steve sighed heavily. “You’re part of that family, Eds. And I’m not dumb enough to think that they aren’t going to make a run for it the second they’re able to. As they should. I have to live my own life and not be afraid to go places.”

Eddie threw his arms in the air. “I hate when you make sense.”

Steve grinned. “Now the only remaining question is which vehicle we’re taking, Wayne’s truck, your van, or my car?”

Eddie laughed. “God, Stevie. I am so glad you’re coming with me. I needed that. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Steve’s grin turned soft and fond. “Let’s hope you never have to find you.”

“Damn straight.”

*

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Robin groused when Steve called her after Eddie left.

“What was I supposed to do when he asked?” Steve questioned, twirling the phone cord around his fingers. He leaned against the counter, keeping an eye on the door.

The last thing he needed was Keith finding out he fucked around after giving him the week off.

Robin scoffed. “Not go?” she questioned. “He obviously wasn’t serious about you coming with.”

"You know I would do the same for you," he said with a sigh. "For any of you. Plus his life has already been turned upside down enough, don't you think?"

Robin sighed. "I'm not really mad," she said. "It's just that this will be the longest we've been apart since the Russians under the mall."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just think of it as a trial run for when you go to college."

"Yeah okay," she said resigned. "Just call me before you leave and again when you get there, okay?"

"Aye, aye, captain!" Steve said with a grin.

Robin giggled. "Shut up!" She paused for a moment. "I'll miss your stupid face, dingus."

“I’ll miss yours, too,” Steve said with a sigh. “I’ll call as often as I can okay?”

“You better.”

They talked a little bit longer until a customer came in and he had to hang up.

*

When he got home he started calling all the kids and packing for a week long trip. He wasn’t sure what he should bring in terms of clothes and ended up calling Eddie.

Eddie who laughed when he asked. “Just bring what you would normally wear this time of year.”

Steve chewed on his lip. “So I won’t get mercilessly teased about my preppy clothes?”

“Oh no, you will,” Eddie confirmed. “It’s just you don’t have to change yourself to fit in with a bunch of assholes who would make fun of you. Okay?”

Steve let out a slow breath and his anxiety went with it. He could handle that. Those assholes had never met a bitch like Steve Harrington before.

“Yeah, okay,” he said after a moment. “You and Wayne decide which vehicle we’re taking?”

“Yeah, he suggested we take his truck and your car,” Eddie said. “He knows he’s going to be taking a lot back and thinks your car will make it better than my van.”

“Sounds good,” Steve murmured, a little disappointed. “So who will you be riding with for the trip down?”

He could almost feel the grin from here. “With you, of course, darlin’.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah okay. What time do you need me at your house?”

There was a beat and then two before Eddie said, “I was thinking that you should spend the night so we could leave first thing in the morning.”

Steve’s heart sped up as his breath caught in his chest. “Yeah. Sure. That’s a good idea. I’ll show up at eight tonight, give myself a little bit more time to pack.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie replied. “Wayne suggested it because it’s a six hour drive and we want to leave as early as we can so it’s not too late when we get there.”

Steve felt a jumble of emotions at that statement. It was a relief that it was a practical reason, but at the same time it was a disappointment that it wasn’t Eddie’s idea.

He took a deep breath. “I hear that. I remember the trips to Lexington when I was kid before we started flying. They were a bitch.”

“It really surprises me that you have family in Kentucky. I don’t know why, a lot of people in Indiana do, it’s just...”

“Harringtons are so entrenched in Hawkins it’s weird to think we have connections outside of it?” Steve supplied.

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, that.”

“My parents met in college and I didn’t move to Hawkins until I was eight,” Steve said.

“Wait,” Eddie said. “No way. You aren’t a Hawkins native?”

Steve chuckled. “Nope. I’m more like you and Dustin then the Wheelers and the Byers. And the Sinclairs.”

“Huh,” Eddie said after a moment. “You certainly have hidden depths, my friend.”

“You have no idea,” Steve teased.

“Then I’ll just have to use this trip to dive deeper,” Eddie teased back.

“I have to pack, you dork,” Steve said fondly. “I’ll be over at eight.”

“See you then, Stevie.”

***

Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8|Part 9|Part 10|Part 11|Part 12

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[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER THREE: ALL TOO WELL

AND I KNOW IT'S LONG GONE AND THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE I COULD DO, AND I FORGET ABOUT YOU LONG ENOUGH TO FORGET WHY I NEEDED TO.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, description of panic attack, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.7K+

☆ A/N: it'll be a short fic, i said. short and sweet and simple, i lied to myself.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

The moment your name leaves his lips, you swear the world halts on its rotation. 

This was real. Every fear and every anxiety you had wrestled with over the last twenty four hours wasn’t for naught – he was here, sitting before you, breathing your name out like a sigh of relief when all you felt was pain. Stabbing, radiating pain. It’s even worse than looking at pictures and headlines of a stranger on a phone screen. Something about him suddenly being tangible, suddenly being real, sends you reeling. 

Lydia looks wildly between your showdown with the ghost of a man before you, “I’m sorry… Do you two- do you know each other?”

Not anymore.

“I-” you choke on your stutter. You’re frozen under his stare, going ashen as your head spins. Leave the room. Think of an excuse, get out of this room, run away. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

It’s the world’s most pathetic excuse, but the only thing you can spit out before you’re turning heel and running, just as your body had so desperately craved. You nearly bump into one of the security guards you’d just bravely had a confrontation with. 

They’d demanded your phone, you had put up a fight. You had stood your ground. Had held your chin high, dared them to push further even once they had your cell phone in their grasp, and displayed all that self-assuredness you had curated in the last two years. Only to end up scampering past them like a wounded animal mere seconds later.

Pathetic.

Lydia calls out something after you, but it reaches deaf ears as you blaze down the hallway. Your chest is squeezing, as if someone had wrapped it in shrink-wrap and sucked all of the air right out of it, swathed so tightly you could feel every pounding beat of your pulse racing. Your eyesight completely blurs, not quite from tears but rather a mere loss of focus. You nearly knock over one of the god forsaken fake plants Lydia insists as a primary form of decor, hardly being within the right mind to reach out and right the oversized bush of green plastic. 

But you don’t have to. Right as your back collides with the wall off to the side of the plant, breathing only coming in short and miserable pants, a different hand reaches out to catch the plant. A ringed hand. 

When Eddie says your name again, it’s not a sigh. It’s laced with panic as you support your full weight against white plaster and stare at where knuckles wrap around faux wooden stems. 

“Hey,” he stresses, hand leaving your line of sight as he puts a large palm on each of your shoulders. You can’t look at him, not yet, “Hey, can you breathe for me? C’mon, big breaths.” 

This close, you can smell the cologne. It’s not even the same woodsy drugstore scent that had lingered on the pillowcases he’d left you to cling to while on tour. Even that, something so miniscule as what cologne he now wore, had changed. And the new and unfamiliar scent chokes you, turns your desperate gasps for air even more futile. 

You had walked out of that apartment two years ago, without any intention of ever being this close to him again. You’d sworn to yourself you’d never be this close again. 

“You’re having a panic attack,” he squeezes your shoulders within his hold ever so slightly, as if attempting to ground you, “You need to breathe.” 

Your eyes nervously find his brown ones. For a second, you recall summer days when the sun would hit them just right, turning them into molten honey for your tasting. Soft and glowing, warming you from the inside out so effortlessly. 

But there’s not a single shred of sunlight in this hallway. The dark brown falls flat against your vision. 

“I’m fine,” you very clearly aren’t, struggling to even get the words out into the air between you two, “I’m- I’m fine.”

He doesn’t fight you when you reach up to swat away his hands. He lets you, hands falling away with ease, touch retracting as if it had never burned you. You take the chance to look over the metal now settled on his fingers, and you realize he still wears all the same ones you remember so vividly. A cross, a pig’s face, an animalistic skull. But there are new ones added to his collection, adorned on his right hand rather than the left. Unfamiliar and odd, the bulky metallic additions are more plentiful. A silver snake wrapped around his pinky, a large spider with the body of a Magic 8 ball on his pointer, a bat spread eagle on his middle. There’s a chunkier one on his thumb, thinner ones added above a few of his second knuckles, but you can’t clear the haze of your vision long enough to pick up on the designs. You choose to focus back on the familiar ones instead, old and comforting even in your panic. 

New rings, new cologne, new habits – the Eddie before you is not the Eddie you once knew. 

“Okay,” he’s whispering now. You’re not even sure what excuse he used to follow you out here without causing a scene. Maybe he did cause a scene, surely a grander one than you. He had that privilege now; he was an untouchable rockstar, he could afford to raise a ruckus. “I… Are you sure?” 

It’s hard to believe there was a time he was a familiar comfort when all that remains now is the awkward distance between the two of you.

But when he takes a step back from you, the new cologne leaves your stratosphere and the new rings leave your field of vision, and the breaths finally come just a tiny bit easier. Still not enough to satiate your lungs, but enough that the headrush begins to pass. 

“I’m sure.” 

You try to insert such finality in those two words. As if whatever had just happened would fade and never exist, as if you could walk back into that conference room and take yourself off this project. You can’t. Eddie has a sense of control, a grip on his reality and the reigns of his choices, but you don’t. If you were to demand Lydia remove you from the project, you’d be risking termination. You’d be risking everything – and it may not be much, but you’d built it brick by broken brick these last few years. You’d salvaged what you had been able to out of the ashes of what had been, but it hadn’t been enough. It had hardly been enough for a foundation. You’d built up the person that now stood before him from practical scratch.

The weight of just how much you had to lose hits suddenly – the realization that this was happening and you had no control of it. 

But Eddie did. He had to. 

“You need to go back in there,” you start, voice still shaking and eyes still averted, “And you need to demand that they reassign you guys. You… You need-” you begin to stutter and fumble to find the right words. You could have lashed out, could have tried to pour salt in a wound you weren’t even sure still existed so that Eddie made the choice on his own. But your mind is muddled and you’re desperate, “Someone else can take on the project. You need to go and demand that someone else takes on the project.” 

“What?” Not the response you wanted. Not the response you needed, “I- No.” 

Two years later, and he still found a way to do significant damage. 

Your eyes snap up, “What do you mean no?” 

“I mean no.”

“I haven’t asked anything of you. Not back then, not after everything happened, I-”

He cuts you off with a scoff. “Can’t ask for anything if you just fall off the face of the fucking earth.” 

You hadn’t noticed before, but as his walls begin to build, you realize that the prior interaction had been something vulnerable. Something where neither of you were on the defense quite yet like you’d always imagined a reunion would go. All that had mattered ten seconds ago was you being okay, him coming after you, making sure you were fine. He’d allotted you all the care and attention you had craved so terribly two years ago, nearly begged for until your knees had bled for. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, getting too distressed to think straight, “Please, for the love of God, just make them reassign the project-”

“I can’t,” he interrupts, shaking his head, “Do you think I’d put myself through this if I could help it? I fucking can’t. I have absolutely no control in there. I didn’t even-” he cuts off his sentence, looking you in your eyes, leaving more to be said. 

He didn’t even what?

“I can’t do anything about it,” he says instead of whatever had been on the tip of his tongue, “Trust me – if I could, I would. But I can’t. So why don’t you say something?” 

It’s your turn for scoffing and disbelief, “I can’t. I’m not the one with all the power and glory-”

“Is that what you think I have?”

“That’s what I know you have.” 

You both go quiet as a battlefield fills the distance between you. All anger, all regret. None of the love or care that had once existed between you two exists here in this quantum plane of sharp words and deadly jabs. 

“Just- please ask for a reassignment,” you try with one final plea, eyes hard on him, “Say that that first impression left you unimpressed, I don’t care. She won’t fire me for that.”

“Once again, no. As it turns out,” his voice is low, dangerous, unfamiliar. A tone he had never used before with you, “Even the one with all the power and all the glory can’t make miracles happen. Sorry, doll.” 

He doesn’t await your response, leaving you on your own as you stay pressed against the wall and he’s walking away. 

What is the saying? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? 

You were certainly feeling scorned.

You felt ripped wide open, beaten and bruised and damn scorned as he leaves a conversation you weren’t finished with. You can’t tell which limb aches the most – the shoulder where his now strange hands had held onto you, your fingers that had curled into pained fists at your side to show you were prepared for a fight, your rib cage that still struggled to expand and accommodate the air now vacant of his cologne that you needed after your panic attack, or the legs that had once carried you away from Eddie Munson only to lead you right back to him. 

There’s nothing you can do, though, beyond composing yourself. You take the same big, deep breaths that Eddie had tried to coax out of you moments before. Your fists slowly unfurl and your palms rake against the side of your jeans in an attempt to wipe away the sweat of the interaction. 

Fine. If he wouldn’t help you, you could handle this. You could manage this project, plan a goddamn party for your ex-boyfriend’s new single. You would treat it just as you did every other previous project you had excelled at, and you would avoid all unnecessary contact with him just as you had with previous clients. 

As a matter of fact, you could probably get away with avoiding all contact. 

He hadn’t hired you. His management had. And, according to him, he had no real power in this situation. If he had no say in the matters, then there would be no reason to reach out to him.

You could do this. You could handle this. 

It’s a mantra of salvation that you repeat to yourself internally as you take confident strides back to that conference room, not even stopping for the guards this time before you burst back into the room when your imminent doom awaits. 

The repetition falters a bit when all eyes land on you as you take your first steps into the room. 

Your name comes out of Lydia’s mouth like a hiss, her teeth locked into a smile that would better pass into a grimace as she asks, “How nice of you to join us again. Please, take a seat.” 

“Of course,” you can’t look her in her eyes for very long, immediately rushing to sit at the chair she’d motioned towards. You haven’t spared Eddie a single glance – you haven’t spared any of the boys you’d once known a look. Instead, you look up to direct an apology at the only face you don’t recognize before you, “I’m truly sorry.” 

The older gentleman, wrapped in a certain kindness and warmth below his professional attire, smiles. And in an instant, his face isn’t quite as unfamiliar, “No worries. When Nature calls, right? Regardless, I’m Matt. Nice to meet you.” 

You can guess which hole in Eddie’s life he’s attempting to smother, which shoes this man serves to fill. He has more hair than his predecessor, but the grin is the same. 

If you picture the man he reminds you of back in Hawkins, you’ll surely begin to ache. 

When you reply with your name, you can hear a fragment of your youth in your voice. Better days spent in Forest Hills trailer park, loitering about a trailer as Wayne Munson asks you how well of an eye you’ve been keeping on his nephew. You’d always lie, say you were keeping him in line when you knew you’d spent the day following him right into trouble, like some sort of lost puppy. Like some sort of loyal soldier. It occurs to you that that’s who you had always been; a fierce soldier over the shoulder of Eddie, ever the brave commander. You would have followed him into battle without a second of consideration, you did follow him all the way to New York without ever taking a final glance at your hometown. 

You wondered if he had tried to replace you as well. You imagine it; the new and fresh face that replaced yours in picture frames, that laid beside him at the end of each night he returned home, that heard a whisper of I love you over the line to the backtrack of a sound rehearsal. 

Were there ever any bloody wars between him and his new lovers that could compare to the battles never fought between you two? Did anyone else in this world know the wounds of his gun never fired? 

The smoke clears. You still don’t look at Eddie, afraid to only see the commander you once knew. You force a smile, putting on a soldier's bravado that doesn’t fit quite right anymore. 

Bullets never fired, triggers never pulled, but the blood stained the same.

“So, where shall we begin?”

—

Matt does most of the talking for the next hour. Sheet after sheet of paperwork is laid down in front of you, your hand beginning to cramp from signing your name so many times, and the details are discussed.

A new single, set to release in three months. A release party that needed to be grandeur and garner the type of attention that Matt feared had been waning from the band due to radio silence on their music front. The outlines of the project were clear cut, simple enough, and you had yourself fooled just well enough that this would be easy.

You kept your eyes set on the prize and never once noticed the tomfoolery occurring between the band members. The words on the tip of their tongues that Eddie keeps quiet through quick kicks to their shins beneath the table, the individual hurt reflected in each of their eyes as you treat them no better than strangers. That treatment of Eddie, they understood. But them?

They could never understand. 

“What’s the name of the single, if I may ask?” you question as you look over one of your copies of the paperwork. Lydia had been eerily silent, allowing you to take the lead. 

Despite the rough start, it was paying off. Having a switch for your emotions can be a good thing, as it turns out. 

“You may,” Matt nods before turning to the boys. It’s the first time he's looked to them for answers during the entire meeting, “Shall I do the honors, or would you boys rather do it yourselves?” 

It’s a chance for all the members of Corroded Coffin to open their mouths without silent reprimanding from Eddie beneath the table, but he beats them to it.

“Dial Tone.”

You freeze your reading. 

There’s something in the way he says it that forces you to look up. As if he’s only speaking to you, and the rest of the room is a faded mirage for him to send away for these private moments. Still a commander, even when his bravest soldier has left him. 

“Sounds… interesting,” you murmur, taking a few seconds too long to meet his gaze, unsure of what to say, “Rolls off the tongue easily.” 

“It certainly does. Which, ironic, given the situation that inspired the song.” 

“And what would that be?”

You’re both wearing masks in front of an audience half made up of people painfully aware of your history, and the rest being painfully oblivious. 

Does Matt know about you? Lydia certainly doesn’t know about Eddie. 

“Words never said. Answers never given. Phone calls missed and never… returned.”

You’re not stupid, but you wish you were. It feels a bit selfish, a bit self absorbed, to so quickly assume you’re the inspiration. 

But how could you believe anything else when Eddie is looking at you like that?

Hollow eyes, devoid of all the honey you once reveled in. Not so much of a stain of sweetness you swear you still taste on the back of your tongue. He’s looking at you with blame, well-deserved anger, and yet not an ounce of the guilt that should exist somewhere in those depths. 

“How riveting,” you play along, trying to swallow down the waves of emotions, “Sounds like it’ll really draw in your audience. Might even be relatable to a few.”

Answers never given. Like how someone could stop saying they loved someone they’d spent years planning their life with, like how he could stop calling so easily, how he could leave so easily. 

“Fingers crossed,” his forced smile in return is almost sinister, and you know it was the right choice to avoid speaking to each other until this moment.

There will be no contact. You know now that if you take on this project, which you technically have through law-binding contracts, that you won’t be able to be civil with Eddie. There is a history that can never be erased, mistakes made and wounds inflicted by both sides. Two worlds of hurt caused by opposing sets of hands that can only clash when they try to meet in the middle. 

But then Matt, sweet Matt that you had come to actually like during this meeting, has to burst your bubble.

“Right, well, the good news is the boys aren’t on tour for the time being, meaning there will be plenty of time to talk about the small details and how the single will come into play during planning,” he explains, happily and still so unaware, “As a matter of fact, I would like to emphasize just how much I would appreciate you including the boys, especially Eddie, in this ordeal. His participation would be very helpful.” 

Some silent form of communication happens between Matt and Eddie, glinting eyes and sudden frowns meeting raised eyebrows and fake smiles, but it’s not your concern. 

The last thing you want during this project is Eddie’s involvement. 

“Of course!” You need to think of an excuse, push for a way to keep him out, “But if Eddie is too busy, I’ll completely understand. I know that a single usually means an album, and that can be very time consum-”

“He won’t be too busy,” Matt interrupts, still staring at Eddie as if he’s daring him, not even questioning you singling him out as he does the exact same.

You recall what Eddie had insisted in the hallway, that his reach of control wasn’t as far as you had been assuming. 

Swallowing hard, you see another relic of Wayne Munson in this man – he wasn’t someone to argue with, “Right, of course. Eddie will be involved. Absolutely.” 

All the power and all the glory – but did it really rest in Eddie’s palms like you assumed?

“She has a point,” Eddie finally finds his voice, leaning back in his chair, trying to relax the tension from his shoulders, “I do have the album to work on.” 

“And now you have this. I’m sure you can find a way to multi-task.” 

Your comparison was accurate. It had been a while since you had seen another grown man capable of shutting Eddie down so quickly, tearing down his walls of affinity for challenging authority and reducing him to nothing more than a shell of his younger self. Matt and Wayne would have gotten along well. You doubt that they’ve met, but you know a bond would have formed between the common denominator of being able to subdue the once-rambunctious boy before you. 

Eddie pouts nearly the complete remainder of the meeting. And those foolish, bitter shards within you become determined to be the bigger person. To smile and nod along, even when you disagreed with certain terms discussed. To be agreeable, to be good, to be better. This new version of you has something to prove; that you’ve done better without Eddie, that you’ve changed into something that no longer aligns with who he is. 

It’s all for show, but you tell yourself no one can see through the cellophane disguise. 

The only remaining signatures aren’t required from you but the rest of the boys. A single contract is passed down the line, and each of them sign themselves away to the agreement. Line after line of swooping black ink locks the five of you into an entrapment, a crowded dance of newly made strangers who have no choice but to play pretend. 

Eddie makes it a deliberate point that he’s the last one to sign. Forces Grant to slide the prettily detailed paper right in front of him until it’s clear he’s making no move to pick up his pen, and the poor guy has to stretch a bit further and let Gareth take it rather than the stubborn rockstar. Only once Jeff’s own night-shade of ink has looped over one of the many lines does it return back to Eddie.

He looks you in the eyes for several seconds too long, pen crooked beside the paper on the table. You can’t take a single breath as you register how lifeless his eyes remain. 

He’s not the person you once knew, but you are no longer the girl that once saw the world in him. 

You will not drop to your knees before him, you will not worship the ground he walks on, you will not break. Certainly not first. Certainly not at all. 

There’s no final words before hands donning unfamiliar rings pick up a pen amongst the silence. Just the click of bringing the ink to life, and the soft scratch of promises that will not be kept. It’s nothing new amongst the two of you.

As a matter of fact, if the scratch of the pen could echo, it might just resemble the sound of the door on that haunted and vacant apartment closing for the final time behind you two years ago. 

—

“Do you two know each other?” 

You had been waiting for this moment. Once Matt had called for a quick break so that he could organize and make copies of all paperwork, you knew Lydia would be chasing you down. 

“What do you mean?” you question airily, topping off the small paper cup of water you had used as an excuse to dismiss yourself into the corner of the room, “Me and Matt? No, I’ve never-”

“Not you and Matt,” she moves to stand in front of you, your back to the room and the band, as she continues in an authoritative whisper, “You and the band – you and Eddie.”

“Why do you think we know each other?” 

Please don’t catch on. Please don’t notice. Please don’t make me admit it. 

Please don’t fire me. 

She retrieves her own water, moving as if she wasn’t having such an intense conversation with you at this moment. All a show for the clients, no doubt. You weren’t the only skilled actress in this room, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you ran out of this room when you saw him, maybe the way he ran after you without a word. Maybe the way the two of you spent a good ten minutes alone in that hallway, and how the rest of that band has been looking at you like you’re a ghost. Please don’t tell me you had a fling with Eddie before this. I really need my best person on this project, but I can’t have personal relationships interferin-”

“No, we don’t know each other,” you cut her off, ignoring the compliment and taking a sip to give your chance to formulate a better addition to the lie. It wasn’t really a lie, though, was it? “I promise it’s nothing, and it won’t interfere. I just…” I just hate him. I just miss the version of him I used to know. I just need you to take me off this project as quickly as possible for a reason that won’t make you think less of me or affect my future career here. “I don’t like the band, you know this.” 

“I knew you weren’t a fan of them, but…” she trails off and looks over your shoulder, no doubt surveying the band. When you stood up from the table, they’d all been feigning boredom as if they hadn’t been taking turns staring you down so intensely. You felt like an animal under observation. “I thought it would be a good thing. To have a neutral party take this on. Why, exactly, don’t you like them?” 

“ I don’t think he’s a good person.”

He as in Eddie. It goes as unspoken knowledge. And, technically, it isn’t a lie. Based on the headlines, based on his coolness this entire interaction, you don’t think he’s a good person. Not anymore. 

You can feel the four sets of eyes on you even now. Your exchange with Lydia has been too quiet for them to hear, but you know you’re still being watched carefully.

“You don’t have to think he’s a good person, but you do need to play nice,” Lydia reminds you. You open your mouth, prepared to argue that you had been playing nice when Lydia waves her free hand to stop you, “I know, I know. I’m not saying you haven’t been perfectly professional. You have been, aside from your… bathroom break at the beginning, but please just remember that.” 

You nod, stiff as ever. She was giving you more grace than you deserved if you tried to look at it from an outsider’s point of view. 

“Of course,” that tone of professionalism, that mask to hide the whirlwind of emotions. You could do this.

You had to do this.  

Choice is an illusion when Matt returns with the copies of paperwork, dividing the files up between himself and Lydia. Choice is an illusion as fake smiles are exchanged and pleasant goodbyes are offered. Choice is nothing but smoke and mirrors when all is said and done, and the entire group of you all stand outside the conference room, ready to part ways with a promise of next time, meaning the next meeting.

You never had a choice in any of this. Eddie did, somewhere along the line, but you didn’t. 

Lydia and you both hand over business cards to Matt’s waiting hands, a deliberate move on your part. You bypass Eddie’s expectant glare entirely. The quicker this is over with, the faster he’s exiting the building and no longer occupying the same room as you, the better. 

“We’ll be in contact,” Matt promises as he tucks the cards away carefully. 

“I look forward to it,” you assure him, as if you weren’t dreading every second of what those contracts had detailed.

Three months. You had just signed on to guarantee Eddie Munson being back in your life for three months. The thought makes you nauseous. 

Matt, ever the normal person, takes it as his queue to leave. Lydia has nodded, turned and began her short trek to her office as the band’s manager starts his journey to the elevator. Most of Corroded Coffin scampers after him, gazes on the floor as they retreat to a private space that will certainly be filled with questions. You almost wish there was a way for you to hear what will be said. The topic of conversation, undoubtedly, will be you. You and Eddie, Eddie and you. A pair of intertwined souls that had taken a sharp knife to your connection only to end up with Fate cruelly retying it on this dreadful day. 

Fate, and Eddie, it seems. 

His hand reaches out and catches your upper arm before you can escape the exchange properly. 

“Can we talk?” You stare at him blankly to hide the racing of your heart and pounding in your mind. Those hands on you, skin on skin, leaving an inevitable mark. An inevitable stain. “Go for coffee, go for lunch, just-”

“No.”

You don’t have to think about your answer. Your pause was only born out of shock. 

His eyebrows furrow, “No? What do you mean no?” 

It feels like a pathetic repeat of your interaction in the hallway, when you had begged him to save you from this doomed union. Except now, you hold the cards in your hand. The first sense of control you’ve been offered this entire time. 

“I mean no,” you repeat yourself clearly. Matt is halfway down the hall, and the boys trailing right behind him seem to fumble over their steps for a second. Jeff even goes as far as to look over his shoulder at the brewing storm appearing behind them, but clearly thinks better of intruding, “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want coffee, and I don’t want lunch.” 

End of story. 

Except, it isn’t, because Eddie’s face only twists further in pain, “We have to talk at some point-”

“Actually, we don’t. I’d prefer we didn’t. I think we can both agree it’ll be better, easier, for both of us to keep this strictly professional until we can go our separate ways again.”

He looks as if you had physically reached out and struck him. The force of your words nearly makes him rock backwards, face falling and mouth agape as he tries to grapple with the determination in your words. 

If you were a fool, you’d mistake it for a flash of disappointment. But it’s not possible – it couldn’t be disappointment, only arrogance. He had obviously been assuming you would just give in. Your change just hadn’t become clear enough to him yet. It would, in time. 

And now, the two of you seemingly had too much of it to endure. 

“Actually, I think we can both agree that’s a load of bullshit,” he crassly argues back once he’s regained composure, “You know that’s not possible.”

You shake your head, suck in a bit of the skin of your inner cheek between your molars as an internal encouragement to stand your ground, “It is. It’s not only possible, but is exactly what’s going to happen.”

“You heard Matt. We have to talk at some point, even if it’s just about this and not us.”

“And we will. We can talk about this project all you want, Eddie. But not over lunch, and not over coffee,” you swear you draw blood from your cheek as you take back on that tone of professionalism, ice cold and completely disconnected, “My preferred form of contact is email. I usually respond in a timely manner, even after hours-”

“Don’t do that,” he stops you.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m just another one of your clients.” 

The metallic flavor floods the deepest corners of your mouth, overtaking the aftertaste of a honey you once knew on the back of your tongue, “That’s exactly what you are. One of my clients.” 

Just a client, and nothing more. A boundary must be drawn, or else there will be more blood spilled than a mere drop from biting your inner cheek. And you aren’t prepared to bleed for him – not again. Never again. 

He opens his mouth, as if he has more to dig out of the grave of this conversation, when Matt’s voice calls from down the hallway, “Eddie! C’mon! There’ll be time to talk later, we’ve got a meeting with the producer across town now.” 

His stance goes rigid, annoyance rolling off him in waves, eyes still focused on you. 

Maybe the reminder of time, the three month timeline, hurts him just as much as it hurts you. Maybe, just possibly, his arm has also been twisted in carving out a space for you in his life once more, whether strictly professional or not. 

He deeply exhales through his nose, “I don’t even have your email.” 

“Matt does. He has my card.”

“Yeah, he does. I don’t. How am I supposed to reach you through your preferred form of contact without it?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” 

You mean to smile at him just as you would the owner of the bakery opening on Third Street, or the mother of a bride trying to share the weight of responsibilities for a wedding. It doesn’t come off that way, though – you can feel the sadness of it tickle the corners of your mouth before he’s even slowly turning from you.

You watch the figure of Eddie Munson walk away from you, and you begin to wish he were walking out of your life rather than only out of the building for the time being.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar

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join my taglist!

[steventhusiast]

steve as an autistic person with ARFID (avoidant restrictive food intake disorder) TW: disordered eating, internalised ableism

--

moving in with eddie is the best decision steve ever made. he wouldn't change the decision for anything, he loves eddie and he loves sharing his life with him.

but.

now that the move is over, he finds himself hiding away from eddie a lot, cheeks flushed red with shame or embarrassment when he gets caught with one of his meals. it's hard to explain, but his relationship with food is... rocky to say the least.

it's always been that way, ever since he can remember, but it was easier to handle when he was younger. being a picky eater is cute up to a certain point, but eventually steve's mom had stopped chuckling at him spitting out new foods she got him to try, had stopped comforting him when he cried because he didn't know what he wanted to eat. but even when his mom would reprimand him for his pickiness, she would still help without knowing. she would decide what meals he would eat, and when, and that took so much off his shoulders.

because everything about food is overwhelming for steve. the choices, the textures, the preparation and cooking, the sensation of the food sitting in his stomach. so it was nice, for the choices to be taken care of, and for the preparation and cooking to be done for him.

and then his parents started going on their business trips when he was twelve, and suddenly food was something he had to be in charge of.

with no guidance, and a lot of anxiety, he developed some eating rituals that he knows aren't healthy, aren't good for him, but it's all he can manage.

so he hides from eddie. because hiding away while he eats his childish safe meal (cheese sandwich with an apple cut meticulously into slices and a single storebought cookie) twice a day as he adjusts to the change from living alone to living with his boyfriend, is better than eddie seeing how badly he handles being an adult.

eddie lets him get away with it at first, because he understands steve's anxiety around big changes to an extent. but after a bit, eating alone clearly takes somewhat of a toll on him, because he seeks steve out three weeks after they've moved in together.

it's 5:20pm, so steve is having his sandwich, apple slices, and cookie hidden away in the spare room they've turned into a shared study. it's not that every single day that meal is all he eats, but for the past few weeks he's been anxiety ridden at the changes happening, and it's all he's been able to manage. today, he's bravely added some roast chicken to the sandwich and counts it as a win.

when eddie quietly pushes open the door, steve flushes red with shame. the meal isn't even that bad, that obviously a bad sign without knowing it's all he's been able to eat recently, but the second eddie's eyes land on the plate and all the food that's kept distinctly separated on it steve hears his mom's voice in his head, nagging him about nutrition and being childish and immature and pathetic.

"you gonna tell me why you're always eating in here, sweetheart?" eddie asks after a few moments of watching steve, and steve sags in the desk chair a little. he doesn't really know how to explain.

but he looks up at eddie's face, meets his eyes for the few seconds he can bare it, and sees only earnest concern on his boyfriend's face. he tries to find the words for it anyway, talks in stuttered half-sentences as he pushes the food around on the plate. eddie doesn't talk until he's done.

"it's just.. it's embarrassing. i hate that i'm like this. i'm twenty years old, i should be able to handle taking care of myself." he finishes, and finally takes a bite of his sandwich. he winces at the new texture introduced by the chicken, but is hyperaware of eddie's eyes on him, so he forces it down. he feels like he has to prove to himself that he can eat it.

"good thing you don't have to handle that alone anymore." eddie says simply, and takes a couple steps toward the desk, pulling up the spare office chair from where it usually sits in the corner so he can sit by steve.

"what?" steve asks, brows furrowed.

"we're a team now, stevie. and if food is.. hard for you, then i can try and help. we can- we can set goals at the beginning of the week, an ideal meal plan, and then i can take care of the cooking and keep it to similar times each day, and you just have to worry about the eating part." eddie's always been good at coming up with plans on the spot, but hearing him brainstorm how he can help steve makes tears well up in steve's eyes for some reason.

"that'd be.. that'd be really nice, eds." he says softly, makes himself take another bite of his sandwich.

"great. food can be my thing, and washing the dishes can be yours, 'kay? just the thought of touching food in the sink makes me wanna gag." eddie pats steve's arm gently as he talks, and steve blinks away the overwhelmed tears as a smile creeps onto his face. god, he loves eddie so much.

"deal." he whispers, and gets a smile in response.

eddie leans over to press a kiss to his shoulder, and watches him suffer through two more bites of his sandwich before making another suggestion.

"why don't we go watch tv while you eat, hm? take your mind off it?"

and the suggestion sounds good, reminds steve that he doesn't have to hide in the study anymore to eat. so he gets up, picks up his plate, and follows eddie out to the living room.

leaving the study feels like a big moment, and taking a bite of the sandwich on the couch instead of the office chair feels like an even bigger one.

but eddie's right next to him, murmuring commentary about the random tape they'd put on into his ear to keep his mind off of the task ahead of him.

so it's not quite as scary.

-

part 2 / part 3

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Two - Dainty

W/C: 4.6K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

You need a job, The Bourbon needs a server. The math is there but the owner won't acknowledge it. How will you win over such a crabby man that only sees you as a gnat forcing its way into his space?

A/N: The response I received on the first part fic was so unexpected but I'm so glad everyone liked it!! I can't wait to get deeper into this story

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I’m sorry for running out so fast yesterday.

No.  Too forward.

I think we got off on the wrong foot, by we I mean me.

No, not sincere enough.

I just wanted to apologize for leaving so abruptly—

“Excuse me, dear?”

Your train of thought was dissolved within seconds as you turned your focus to the older gentleman that had called for your attention.  A hum in place of an answer as your brows raised expectantly but ever so friendly awaited his follow up question.

“Can I just squeeze past you to grab that jar of peaches?”  He asks, wrinkles around his eyes upturned in perfect harmony with his smile.

“Of course.  Yes!”  Panicked, you rush to the other side of the aisle, the older man waving you off, insisting that it was ‘quite alright’ while he reached for his beloved peaches.

You’d been bouncing back and forth, up and down between several opening statements to provide Donnie, a sour taste left in your own mouth at the way you left her hanging the day before when she was merely being kind to you.  It was something you couldn’t stop, the anxiety eating away at your flesh like bacteria from the fact that you could’ve caused someone to be less than satisfied with their interaction with you, as if you were some kind of service.  People pleasing was a disease.

Sometimes the affected party was blind to its symptoms, oblivious to the way their illness consumed them.  And that’s why you found yourself purchasing a single pack of gum, eyes large and sorrowful before you were even next in line.  Various ways to get the point across were mentally rehearsed and the closer you got to the register, the more you focused on one singular sentence, clinging onto the desire to not stutter or mess it up.  

“Hey you’re back!”  Donnie greets.  “Thought for sure we’d scare you off by now.”

With a wince, you hand her your pathetic excuse of a conversation starter, a pack of spearmint gum with your trembling hand.  If she notices she doesn’t bring attention to it, instead she gracefully takes the pack and rings you up. 

“N-no, no.  I don’t scare that easily.”  You try to convince yourself more than her.

You note that the shop is nearly empty once again just after a handful of customers had done their shopping and went on with their day.  A few patrons still linger, carefully picking out each item from their weekly grocery list; however, you wouldn’t know they were there if not for the squeak of their carts every few feet as they inched forward.

“Could’ve fooled me.”  Donnie respectfully hands back the gum in exchange for your cash.  A crinkled five that had seen better days.

For a moment you debate fleeing once again, nerves tingling and breathing becoming shallow before internally reprimanding yourself.  You can cry all you damn well please in private but right now you need to stand up to the little voice in your head.  “Yeah.  Um, I just–I wanted to say I’m sorry for running out so suddenly like that.”  It didn’t come out as smooth as you’d planned but you’re hoping it came across as sincere enough.  If you could at least look forward to a friendly face at the supermarket every week, well it would be a win.

“Honey, I don’t get offended easily and it seemed like you had places to be.”  She waves a dismissive hand in the air at your apology, not unkindly, more so letting you know you didn’t need to be so formal with her.  And yet you couldn’t help yourself, an unwanted backstory spilling from your lips almost like second nature.  Excuses plucked from the top of your brain.

“I didn’t–I didn’t mean to leave and just not introduce myself.  I just got caught up, with moving and all–”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.  Just your name and we’ll call it good.”  A genuine smile stretches across her face, contagious enough that your lips tug upward as well as you offer your name, a proper introduction this time.

Your shoulders relax ever so slightly, not fully letting your guard down but no longer feeling the need to tense every muscle in your body.  It’s then that you realize that this is the only grocery store that you ever found visually appealing, with its darker toned walls and red checkered floors, the lighting not being so fluorescent and in your face, a bit dim even.  Which for some may be a flaw but for you it was perfect.  You don’t feel so exposed and couldn't be perceived so clearly, the ideal cocktail of a situation for someone so socially anxious.

“I, um, I saw your sign.”  You gesture to the letters reading ‘help wanted’ posted against the window.  If you could land a decent job then maybe living wouldn’t feel so terrifying.  Then again, several things would come into factor other than just your means of income.  

Donnie’s expression turns empathetic and you can feel your breath hitch in anticipation for a brutal rejection.  To be told that you had it all wrong, that you were too unprofessional and too meek and that your help was most definitely not wanted here, that you shouldn’t have even stepped foot in this town to begin with.  The five stages of grief practically take over in mourning over the loss of a potential job.

“I’m real sorry but we already filled the position.  Tom was supposed to take that down around two weeks ago.”  She sounds irritated at the mention of what you assumed to be her coworker.  “Can’t rely on anyone.”  She sighs, striding over to the window and pulling the sign from its temporary home only to abandon it behind the shelf that displayed several boxes of cigarettes.  

“Oh I’m–”

Before you can even begin to apologize for something completely out of your control, Donnie’s eyes light up at something, or rather, someone behind you.

“Hey, Ed!  Isn’t The Bourbon hiring?”

All she receives in return is silence and when you dare to peek over your shoulder behind you, you briefly meet the eyes of the neighbor you had the displeasure of running into twice the day before.  Today he fronts with a black leather jacket and the same black jeans with rips in the knees.  The only thing noticeably different is the chain now dangling at his side and the band shirt you’re unable to read, the letters obscured from your view.  Oh, and a few chunky rings decorating his hand that should make him look tacky as hell but somehow they pull the look together.  

“I dunno, who’s asking?”  He counters, brow raised as he glances at you once more.  You’d barely even spoken a few words to the guy and he was acting as if you committed the most heinous act against him.

“Ed.”  Donnie warns.

“Don, she wouldn’t last a day.”

You were beginning to think that this so-called ‘Ed’ was going to turn into an issue…fast.  Who was he to judge a stranger who he knew absolutely nothing about.  His audacity startled you and while you should step in and defend yourself, you can’t bring yourself to do it, tongue tied in every literal sense, words caught in the back of your throat like they were physical refrigerator magnets lodged in place.

“You don’t know that!”  She grins at him, a grin that silently says ‘watch it’.  “Honey, you got any work experience?”  Attention shifting to you, you felt as if you were burdening two people who had everything figured out in their quaint little lives, guilt plaguing your mind at the fact that you’d shaken things up between what seemed to be good friends or maybe even just well acquainted individuals.

“I–uh–yes.  Yes, I’ve worked at the–at the library and-and–”

“The library?”  Ed questions.  You didn’t dare answer, knowing very well he wasn’t seeking a response.  “What good would that do me in a bar?”

“Well I–”

“Think The Bourbon’s too rowdy for someone like you.”  He continues, only fueling your inner rage as well as pricking the embarrassment that held a permanent home within you, your cheeks flushing hot and palms becoming clammy.

“I’ve also worked at a diner.  Back home.”  Somehow you find a voice, one that isn’t shaky and timid but rather more calm and collected regardless of the absolute fear that pounded in your heart.  

Both Donnie and Ed stare, seconds passing that only feel like lightyears.  Ed still seems bored beyond comprehension, opening and shutting his wallet as he narrows his big brown eyes.  You aren’t sure what to do next, if you should make a dramatic exit once again or continue proving yourself to some stranger who had no business even making you do such a thing in the first place.

“A diner.”  

He says it like a statement rather than a question, as if to mock and discredit you.  

Tears are not an option, tears are not an option.  

“See she’s got experience!”  Donnie attempts to mend the situation, acting as an unofficial moderator.

“Don, no offense but I came here to buy the usual, not recruit.”  Some cash is slapped onto the counter, his patience clearly wearing thin by the way he begs with his eyes.  Donnie’s tolerance appears to be at a dangerously low level based on the glare she forces upon him.  You were beyond unprepared to witness a standoff in the middle of the supermarket at 5:00 PM on a Wednesday.

“Thought you were desperate for a server.”

There’s some bite behind her words, focus never wavering, the two seeming to have a telepathic conversation right before your eyes until Ed breaks the stillness in the air.

“Not in the slightest.  Can I have my shit now?”

Donnie’s sigh lets you know Ed has won and in the process, drained her energy.  Reluctantly, she snatches the cash from the counter and opens the register before grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the shelf behind her and handing them to him along with his change, an unfriendly exchange.  It doesn’t seem to bother him as he clutches the cash and the pack in his hand, not even sparing you another glance on his way out.

Clearing your throat, you pull Donnie’s attention away from the insufferable man now making his way down the cobblestone sidewalk outside.  “It’s okay.  I’m sure other places are hiring.”  

She rolls her eyes and you know it’s not meant for you but you can’t shake the paranoia that screams that she might be fed up with you as well.  “Don’t mind Eddie.  He acts like a hardass but he’ll come around.”

So his name is Eddie.  You only nod in response, unsure of where to steer the conversation from here.

“He’s like a scary dog.  He’ll roll over for the right people.  So if he doesn’t take to you, don’t take it personally.”  She advises.

“Yeah.”  You whisper.  

You were so going to take it personally.

–

As it turns out, no one in Knife’s Edge was hiring, not a single soul seeking a random girl from out of town who urgently needed a job.  Not that you could blame them, they had it all figured out.  Many of the shops were owned by families thus being run by said families and not requiring the additional expense that would come with hiring another person.  And those that did seem to hire outside of their family had already filled in every necessary position.  

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.  This is what you get for uprooting your life and sticking it somewhere it probably didn’t belong.

And now you were moping along the cobblestone, trying to figure out how to pay the bills, working out how much of your savings you could survive off of until you’d run out.  Then The Bourbon came into view.  Almost like it wanted you to see it, the beaming red lights spelling out its name specifically for you to see.  Mainly because it was the only place you knew to be hiring despite what Ed–or–Eddie–whatever his name was, had said in his unpleasant remarks from earlier.  It seemed to be your only shot at employment.

The bar had a few neon signs flashing in the window, one being the very obvious ‘open’ sign and then of course one that read ‘happy hour’ with a margarita.  The rest appeared to be different beers they might have on tap.  It didn’t look like anything fancy but didn’t seem like a hole in the wall either.  The exterior was paneled in wood just like almost every other building in the area, giving it a cabin feel without actually being a cabin.

Dread settled in the pit of your stomach from just staring at the place so if you were going to act, it needed to be now, before said dread morphed into pure panic.  This was going to determine your foreseeable future, if you couldn’t land this job then you might as well toss yourself right back down that mountain with no money and no plan, right back to square one.

The door was heavy, built out of metal and a bell ringing just above, notifying any staff and patrons of your presence which you could do without but you had to push yourself.  If they were staring, your gaze was glued to the ground and you didn’t notice, too occupied in rehearsing an improvised script in your head.  Some kind of rock or metal song blasted through the bar and you weren’t sure if it was overstimulating or comforting.  Your initial thought was that for being in a small town, they would be inclined to play country music so it only relieved you that your possible future workplace wouldn’t be subjecting you to the unbearable twang you just couldn’t seem to stand.  You’d endure it when all was said and done but it was appreciated that it was one less nuisance in your life.

It was a standard bar, the atmosphere mellow with dull lighting and a haziness smelling of tobacco swirling throughout the room.  What immediately drew you in was the obvious game of bingo, suddenly shifting what was a designated spot for happy hour and a cheap therapy session with the bartender into a retirement home full of seniors.  A man that looked to be in his fifties sat on a stool on the tiny stage in the corner, calling out numbers, which elicited a few victory yells from those who had obviously been having better luck.  

However odd the scene may be, several senior citizens occupying the tables of a bar at happy hour, business still seemed to be booming considering that it was a weekday.  Aside from the group of elderly yet energetic individuals, there were also what looked to be the regulars perched on their assigned stools at the actual bar.  They paid no mind to the intense game happening behind them, sipping away at their beers and mixed drinks leisurely.

A vacant seat called to you, two more on each side guaranteeing that you could sit comfortably without awkwardly scooting in next to someone and disturbing their possible winding down time, no doubt trying to blow off some steam after work.  That’s why people came to bars, right?  It was lost on you, this wasn’t your scene and if you’re truthful, you’re not even sure you should be here begging for a job in the first place.  That Ed guy clearly didn’t take a liking to you and though you didn’t exactly have any knowledge on his role within The Bourbon, he seemed like he had a say in the day to day operations just based on the tiny snippets of information you picked up on.  Hopefully someone with the same level of authority would be working now and actually respect you as a person enough to at least give you a chance.  

Playing it cool—as cool as one could be with constant nagging thoughts and shot nerves, you decide to plant yourself down on the stool, the worn leather material partially squeaking in protest as you wiggle into a comfortable enough position, setting your bag in your lap and clutching it in paranoia.  A glance from the left to the right and back to the left lets you know that no one seems to mind your presence though you still close in on yourself regardless, taking up the least amount of space possible.

The bartender, a man maybe in his early twenties who had short dark hair seems preoccupied as he shakes a drink while balancing a conversation with another man at the end of the bar, the two laughing every other sentence like old friends.  And so you wait.  Never intentionally draw attention to yourself and never disturb anyone else’s night until you find it polite to chime in when the bartender doesn’t seem as busy.  Even then, he doesn’t hear your small ‘excuse me’ every time he rushes by onto his next task.

A sad little ghost settled among lively customers, you don’t seek pity, only a glance your way so that you could get this over with and either face rejection or anxiously resume the job search.  Though no one seems to bother looking your way, you can’t help the heat traveling to your cheeks in pure humiliation, the fact that you’re the only thing out of place weighing heavily on your mind.  More celebratory howls and yells sound from behind you, the room erupting into laughter shortly after from a joke you didn’t care to understand.  Even a few select chuckles are heard from the men scattered along the bar.

“Do you just not listen?”

A familiar voice breaks through your thoughts, forcing you to peek up from where your focus remained on the bartop, where moments before you’d seemed entranced by the surface.  In reality you were running in circles in your head, hoping to make sense of your current situation.  Through your lashes you saw him.  Ed.  Or Eddie.  You didn’t put much effort into feeling too bad for not remembering his actual name, especially when he’d never even had the decency to ask for yours.  His leather jacket was absent from his torso, now only showing off a plain black t-shirt that also allowed you a view of various tattoos scattered along his arms.  You were first drawn to the faded bats on his forearm before becoming puzzled by what seemed to be some kind of a doodle on his inner bicep, not a very good one at that.  And then you remembered he’d asked you a question.

“I’m not allowed to have a drink?”  You ask innocently.  Genuine innocence.  No sarcasm.  You weren’t brave enough for that.

“Only if you’re not here to also beg for a job.”  He grumbles.  A man a few stools over gestures down for another round and in response, Eddie nods coolly.  With a certain kind of smoothness, he pulls a new glass out before slamming it down on the counter.  “If you are, the answer is still no.”  The way he quickly pours liquor into the shaker seems so effortless, measurements probably burned into his brain that allow for more efficiency on busy nights.

“Can I at least speak to someone in charge?”  You do your best to keep your voice steady and unwavering in the presence of someone with infinitely more confidence than you, his eye contact never breaking.

“You’re lookin’ at him, doll.”

His voice drips with his signature condescending tone, the corner of his mouth pulled up slightly in a smirk.  One that tells you that you’ve hit a dead end. 

“You—oh.”  Like an idiot, you swallowed any words that bubbled in your throat, unable to find it within yourself to at least come up with a snarky comeback.

“We’re not hiring.”

“That-that’s not what Donnie said.”  Lousy.  The argument just seemed to fall from your tongue involuntarily, not much thought put behind it before coming to fruition.  It would only give him more ammo.

His eyes further surveyed you, meticulously analyzing your every move, every twitch of every muscle in your face.  An unwanted spotlight shining on you, revealing every flaw in your approach to the current conversation.  You wanted a job and he wanted nothing to do with you, your last statement only sealing your fate, only giving him more reason to deny your advances.

“Donnie doesn’t work here does she?”  Without expression, he begins expertly shaking his concoction, forearms flexing with the movement.  He was a character, some kind of figment of your imagination.  He had to be.  You’d never encountered someone so standoffish, so ill-tempered, especially toward someone he’d never even met before, already passing judgment on you based on seconds of interaction.

Ignoring his rhetorical question, which came off as more of a deterrent than anything, you pursue a fair conversation, a deserving interview at the very least.  “Listen, I’m a really hard worker and—“

“And a fast learner right?”

The interruption was unwelcomed though you gave no indication that it was, face set in a straight expression as you processed his uncivil personality.  You couldn’t even find it in you to convey shock, your brain malfunctioning upon his words, outdoing himself with every sentence he uttered.

“Well, yes.”

“Of course.  And you can multitask too I bet?”

This wasn’t the interview you were hoping for, this was downright degrading.

“If you would just let me talk.”  You plead, fingers digging into the wood of the bartop.

“Listen, kid.”  The liquid he had been shaking for quite some time is poured into the glass, an amber colored liquor filled to the brim.

Kid?  

If you had the guts you would degrade him right back.  But you were you and you could only sit and take each hit to your fragile mental state with as much grace as possible.  And soon after the tears would come.  Not yet, though.  Not just yet.

“You look like you’re about to cry and you haven’t even been hired.  What makes you think you can handle a full house on a Friday night?”  The drink is topped off with an orange twist and a black cherry before he slides it to its awaiting consumer, not a drop spilling over the edge of the glass, clearly a perfected craft that he was proud of.

When he’s met with silence you gather that he thinks he’s won just by the smug look on his face, barely there but still evident nonetheless.  That little voice inside your head screams at you to keep pushing, keep bugging him until he has to give in.  Even if by pure annoyance.  And although you can feel yourself trembling in terror, something urges you to just gulp down the fear and prod at the arrogant man just beyond the bar.

“I work well under pressure, I’m very organized, I’ll clean on my down time…”  You begin to list off your abilities and if he wanted to stop listening, the way he glared at you wasn’t convincing you that he was going to.

This time his response is delayed rather than the other way around, suddenly at a loss for words as his large eyes take in your sudden change in demeanor.  Your slight assertiveness takes him by surprise, you can tell from his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.  It’s all a front for you to at least get one foot in the door but as they say, ‘fake it ‘til you make it’.

“No.”  He answers suddenly, sternly.  His disinterest is obvious when he pulls out a rag and starts wiping down the counter, no longer letting his gaze fall on you but instead, the droplets he works vigorously to clean up.

If he wants a fight, then a fight he shall receive. 

“I’m a team player, I’m super reliable, my time is flexible, if you need me in a pinch consider it done–”

“Do you understand social cues?”  

Ouch.  If you had an inflated ego it would’ve surely been destroyed by now but you were already working with close to nothing.

“Yes.”  You reply, not a trace of sarcasm, only an honest answer.

“So I think by now you’d understand.  We.  Are.  Not.  Hiring.”  Each word is enunciated and slathered thickly with bitterness, topped with the intention to send you running like a dog with its tail tucked in between its legs.  

What he doesn’t know is that your soft spoken voice and bashful exterior isn’t all there is to you and that deep down, if you wanted something, you were stubborn and able to manipulate the situation should it be required in the most dire of situations.  Whether it would work on him seeing as he was also just as stubborn, if not more, you weren’t sure yet.

“Are you turning me away because I’m a woman?”  

The pure horror in his eyes almost makes you chuckle because now you know you have the upper hand and had anyone overheard, they would probably question their beloved local bartender’s work ethic.  

“I mean–not that I’m accusing you…”  You were definitely accusing.  “I just don’t see any other women working and–”

It doesn’t have the effect you’re hoping for as he leans toward you, forearms resting on the bar, his eyes returning back to their spiteful nature while he taps his clunky rings against the surface in thought.

“I’m turning you away because you don’t belong in a place like this.  Things can get rough and you’re…too dainty.”  His voice is much more hushed than before but his expression remains serious, without a trace of that stupid smirk.

Dainty?  Dainty.  Noted.

“What–you don’t think a woman can handle–”

“It’s not about you being a woman.”  He seethes.  “It’s about the fact that you are dainty.  Polite.  Shy.  I can’t have that when I’ve got a few drunks refusing to leave at 2:00 AM.”  

“I know when to hold my own.  Especially if it's for a job.”  You attempt to convince him.

“What, so you’re just gonna respectfully tell them to leave, then what?  These guys get out of hand, I can’t be babysitting you, I’ve got a business to run.”  He reasons, straightening his posture, conversation already forgotten as he starts to turn away before you speak up again.

“At least let me prove you wrong before you dismiss me.”  You quietly demand, hands clasped in front of you.  “Think I can handle a group of senior citizens.”  You motion to the intense bingo game still going strong behind you.  

With a roll of his eyes, he seems to ponder his thoughts, bouncing them around in his head.  An exasperated sigh escapes his parted lips while a hand drags down his tired face.  

“One night.  A trial.  If you can handle it, fine.  You’ve got a job.”  He finally declares.  “But if I have to stop what I’m doing to babysit you or you so much as–”

“I’ll find another job.  Promise.”  You nod persuasively, a glimmer in your eyes that he doesn’t miss but quickly ignores.

“Good.  Tomorrow night.  Eight.  And just this one time you can park in the back lot.”

He tries to dismiss himself again but your next question forces him to linger a little bit longer.  He was patient, you’d give him that.

“Wait–what, what’s the dress code?”  You ask sheepishly, a contrast to the business woman you’d molded into just seconds before.

He does a once over, as if to judge your fashion choices but what he ends the conversation with only leads you to think that he favors one word way too much.  

“Casual.  Nothing too dainty.”

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiemunson95 @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel

[vegasol]

«3! 2! 1! Happy new year!» Everyone screams excitedly all around them.

Then, as they tend to do, all the couples kiss. And for a stupid second, it feels like the whole world consists of only couples. It makes Eddie feel like there’s a giant spotlight on him, pointing him out in the crowd. Look, there’s the single guy. The virgin, with no one to kiss.

He looks at Steve, who’s right next to him. Steve’s got his arms around Robin, she’s got her arms around his neck, and they’re just done giving each other a kiss too, a big ol’ smack of puckered lips. Eddie wonders if he should look away, but then they release each other and Steve turns to look at Eddie, catching him looking.

So Eddie just hovers, awkwardly frozen in place by Steve’s gaze.

“You alright, Eddie?” Steve prompts, reaching out a hand to place it comfortingly on Eddie’s lower back. It feels so warm, makes Eddie feel all fuzzy. Or maybe that’s the champagne.

“I don’t have anyone to kiss,” he blurts, tongue loosened by alcohol and way more honest than what is good for him. “I’ve never kissed anyone before,” he adds lamely, because his drunk self apparently thought that was an important amendment to be making.

“Uhh..” Steve stares at him, confused. Like his gears are grinding away ever so slowly. He’s had plenty of the champagne too, Eddie knows.

“You could kiss me? I don’t mind,” Steve offers, and it suddenly feels simple. Yeah, why shouldn’t he? Steve’s just offering to help, it doesn’t have to mean anything. He kissed Robin too, so it’s no big deal, right?

He lets Steve’s hand on his lower back pull him in gently. They’re the same height, no need for Eddie to bend his neck at an awkward angle or anything. He just steps right into Steve’s space, their lips suddenly just an inch away from touching, their breath suddenly mingling.

I don’t know how, Eddie is about to say, but he doesn’t have time to before Steve closes the rest of the gap. His lips are soft and warm and plush as he puckers them against Eddie’s. It’s nice. And Eddie thinks that’s going to be it: just a sweet, chaste, innocent kiss among friends, before Steve will pull away again. He’d be okay with that.

But instead of pulling away, Steve presses his lips harder to Eddie’s. In surprise, Eddie parts his lips, to draw a breath, to say something maybe, and again Steve surprises him by catching Eddie’s bottom lip in his. Eddie’s breath stutters and he forgets everything about everything. He forgets that people are watching, he forgets that this wasn’t going to mean anything. He forgets how to stand on his own two legs, so he sinks into Steve’s arms, holding on to him desperately as he lets Steve deepen the kiss.

It's like fireworks are going off, not just in the sky all around them, but inside Eddie, too.

When Steve finally breaks the kiss and lets him go, Eddie feels like a changed person. New year, new Eddie. Now that he’s tried it, he never wants to stop kissing Steve.

And Steve, King Steve, he’s gotta know, the way he’s looking at Eddie grinning all smugly. It must be written clearly all over Eddie’s face.

“Maybe you can return the favor next year,” Steve says, and Eddie can only nod.

“Uh huh. I will.”

[queenimmadolla]

For the one word prompt ♥️

Eddie, friendship, angst (i feel like being sad tn lol)

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

“So, that happened.” Eddie’s knuckles rapped against his knees, an obvious sign of nerves.

The two of you were in Nancy Wheeler’s basement, surrounded by junk food and atrocious party hats to celebrate Argyle’s birthday. Pizza had arrived a couple of minutes ago, and everyone had suddenly decided eating upstairs was more appealing. Everyone, except you.

Your stomach was still turning from the event that took place three days ago. That, coupled with the other person involved also being in attendance of your friend group’s get together made for some unsettling waves in your belly. Some alone time would have been beneficial.

Then Eddie came back down before the rest of them and you wanted to die.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered out, gaze focused on the television where Kim Carnes was so aesthetically crooning out about Bette Davis’ eyes, “I didn’t think they’d actually do it. Pretty sure they shaved a couple of years off their lifespan.”

Jonathan and Argyle, both cross faded, decided it would be a good idea to see who could handle eating a spoonful of salt better. Jonathan had coughed his out and stated his chest hurt.

“You know I wasn’t talking about that.”

You could feel the heavy weight of his gaze, face heating up while you picked at your nail polish.

When you didn’t say anything else, you heard him sigh and sink further into his chair.

“We slept together, Bits. That’s a pretty big fucking deal.”

Oh god. Why’d he have to say it outloud?

“I know, I was there.” You snapped, recalling how you’d gone over to his trailer to return a cassette of his—like you’d done a hundred damn times—with not a single fucking ulterior motive, and ended sweaty, naked and plastered to Eddie well into the night and early morning.

See, you had no trouble blowing a single moment of weakness over, that wouldn’t destroy your friendship. Make it a little awkward for a couple of days, but you’d be fine.

Unfortunately, it hadn’t been a single time. The two of you had reached for each other throughout the night and he’d been inside you for a large majority of that time.

You’d internally freaked the fuck out when you woke up, but Eddie was a heavy sleeper so you’d been able to make a quiet escape. Once you realized how much trouble that could have caused, you’d gone back over to Eddie’s only to see Steve’s car parked out front, and you’d overheard the conversation between the two through his open bedroom window, with Eddie stating he’d been glad you left in the morning.

You didn’t stick around after that.

“Not for long,” came his catty reply and you finally glared at him to find him already scowling right back; eyebrows pinched, chocolate brown eyes hardened and irritation written clearly all over his face.

“What do you want me to say? We both already know it shouldn’t have happened, so why talk about it?”

Eddie felt a sharp pang in his chest, but he refused to allow you to see how vulnerable he really was, not if you’d be breaking his heart tonight.

He’d been ecstatic when it happened, when you kept wanting him. The group would constantly tease him about you, all of them sure you would inevitably get together but Eddie was a pessimist. You’d been friends for a while and yeah—sometimes, it felt like you wanted the hugs the two of you would exchange to last as long as he did, but he never caught you staring. It was always the other way around and his wishful thinking would only get him hurt.

Then it wasn’t wishful, not that night. All Eddie knew was bliss and the pessimist in him was happy to retire until he’d woken up and you were gone. He felt a mixture of emotions and called Steve over to vent; while he was somewhat relieved you’d gone home—simply because he was terrified he would have said something stupid by talking out of his ass with nerves and end up driving you away—Eddie was eager to see you again but anxious on what to say.

With the pep talk from Steve, and how the two of you were obviously meant to be if the universe had finally brought you together like this, Eddie was ready for the talk.

Except, it didn't happen because you’d been actively avoiding him. He knew what that meant. Pessimist, remember?

“Because if we don’t talk about it, I’m afraid you won’t talk to me again.”

Your stiff posture relaxed, guilt sinking into your bones because you knew he was right, you had been ready to avoid anything but small talk with him and you hated it because he was one of your friends. You would have been in the wrong because you couldn’t face the consequences of your actions.

But. But, but, but…you knew you would have caved.

Eventually.

“That’s not true, Eddie.”

“Isn’t it?”

God, you also hated how he seemingly knew the way this conversation would play out, expecting every single one of your responses.

“It’s not,” you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, vulnerability was not something you liked to share. You liked to be the upbeat, chipper, groovy friend. Even when you weren’t. It was easy that way, keeping everything to yourself, “This is so embarrassing to say, given what got us into this, but I can’t stay away from you. You’re my friend and our friendship means everything to me.”

Eddie was your friend, who didn’t want you. Not like you wanted him. And he didn’t have to.

“I don’t want to lose you, Bits.” Eddie’s resolve melted away, no longer was he the intimidating metal head who looked unapproachable. He was your friend again, “Especially, over this.”

Over you not wanting him; not wanting to kiss him, not wanting to intertwine your fingers, not wanting to sleep in his bed, not wanting to love him the way he loved you. It hurt. 

It hurt like hell and he felt like he was bleeding out but if it meant you’d stay in his life, he’d bleed out for the rest of it. 

“I don’t want to lose you, either, Eddie. Can we please be Bits and Eds again? Without the hormones ruining it?”

What you meant was, can you please forget about how nice I said it was to have you hold me?

You could see how glassy his eyes were and you were sure yours were no better. 

He gave you a small smile, arms opening up for a hug, “Of course.”

What Eddie meant to say was, I should’ve dealt with the awkward morning after and been awake to keep you from leaving. 

When you got up to curl into his lap for a hug–heart aching–the thought of how nice it was to be in his arms popped up again.

You shot that thought down and blew the smoke away from the barrel, your own heart bleeding in your hands.

[prettyboybuckley]

30, for buddie please?

hi anon ❤️ thank you for the prompt! exhaustion got to me so it took me a little while to write it, but I hope you like it!

from the soft prompts: ‘this is my husband/wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner etc.’

Eddie never really figured out how to introduce Ana as his girlfriend without feeling awkward. It didn't surprise him at the time, because he'd felt the same about introducing Shannon as his wife, for a long time, at least.

So he'd always assumed that was kind of the norm. That he'd always feel awkward introducing his partner, or that maybe that's how most people feel doing that, even. 

In hindsight, that was a stupid thing to assume, probably.

The point is that when he and Buck start dating - and holy shit, they're actually dating - he expects it to be as awkward as it's always been. Perhaps even more awkward, considering that yes, this is Buck, but he's also never dated a guy before. He's never introduced anyone to his boyfriend before.

(Well, that's not entirely true, but those were all people that already knew Buck. It wasn't so much introducing Buck as it was telling those people that they were dating now.)

And then comes the PTA meeting.

Eddie doesn't particularly like PTA meetings, they are long and boring and half the shit that gets discussed is pretty much trivial. He goes anyway because he cares about his son's education, and it's polite to show his face and interact with the other parents. 

He doesn't expect Buck to see it on the calendar on the fridge, turn to him with a bright but somewhat hesitant smile, and ask: "Can I come with?"

"Yeah, of course," Eddie answers without even having to think about it for too long. It'll be much more fun with Buck by his side. 

The realization that he's going to have to introduce Buck to all these parents - at least the ones that haven't met him before - doesn't cross his mind until they're already getting out of the car in the school parking lot.

It's probably a good thing that it doesn't, or he would’ve been all up in his head about it. As it is, he freezes right there next to the car, watching couples and single parents alike make their way into the school.

"You alright?" Buck's voice sounds, suddenly right next to him. He must have walked around the car while Eddie was lost in thought. Buck's hand slips into his, tangling their fingers together.

"I'm fine, just thinking. C'mon, let's go."

He pulls Buck along to the school entrance, greeting some parents he vaguely recognizes along the way. Once inside, they follow the directions to the gym, and it's only when they're there that Eddie finally pauses. His hand is still wrapped tightly around Buck's, and he has no intention of letting go, but that also means that someone is going to notice.

"Eddie, hi!" someone says, and he turns around too quickly, pulling Buck along and making him stumble a bit. See, there's the awkwardness already. It's Katie's mom, Jennifer, who Eddie has talked to on multiple occasions. He's pretty sure she tried to flirt with him in the beginning, though he isn't sure why she stopped. "I see you've brought someone along this time?"

This is usually where it gets awkward, where Eddie stutters out an introduction and embarrasses himself and his partner in the process.

But this time he follows Jennifer's gaze to look at Buck, and he finds Buck smiling at him, soft and so damn happy, as if there's nowhere he'd rather be than here at this PTA meeting with Eddie, and it's not awkward at all.

"Yeah, this is my boyfriend, Buck," Eddie replies, only taking his eyes off Buck at the end of it, and he pulls Buck a little closer as he smiles at Jennifer. "Figured it wasn't fair that he's only been getting the fun parts of raising a kid now that we finally got our shit together."

He and Jennifer both laugh at the indignant squawk Buck lets out at that, and Eddie only grins wider when he stumbles because of the little shove Buck gives him with his shoulder. It's not as if he's in any danger of falling when they're still holding hands, and as soon as he's stabilized himself again, he's pressed right back along Buck's side.

Buck is grinning, too, when Eddie looks at him, and he allows himself a moment to get lost in his boyfriend's eyes. Turns out that didn't feel awkward at all, it simply felt right.

"Just kidding, we both know you've been helping with the less fun parts all this time, too." He pauses for a moment, then turns back to Jennifer. "Now, Jen, have you heard any good gossip lately?"

Next to him, Buck snorts, and Eddie is going to get teased later for caring about gossip in the first place, but he's pretty sure that his boyfriend listens just as attentively while Jennifer tells them of the rumor she heard about two of the teachers hooking up.

[enterwittyjokehere]

Homie that Richtofen x amab reader was fire you should write more (it’s so hard finding x male readers im in the fucking trenches sometimes I swear)

Not my best but I did enjoy writing it, and thank you, I do try to provide Gender affriming fanfictions for all, as a trans person I know that they can be very leaning towards cis women.

Anyway hope you enjoy :þ

Slumber and S*x

[Primis! Edward Richtofen x amab reader smut]

Content warnings:

[S*mnophilia k*nk]

[Age difference]

[Cnc play/k*nk]

[Amab reader]

[No pronouns used]

[Censored swearing]

[Heavy gay smut 18+ only]

"Verdammt-! Almost there... J-Ja-"

With a quick stutter of his hips Edward Richtofen hit his climax, his warm seed spilling out in and on your body. You pumped your own c**k in your hand breathing heavily, "Yes..."

With a jerk of your hips accompanied by a sharp slap to your ass by the doctor, who was stationed behind you. You fell forward, hitting your org*sm and rutting into your hand, moaning as cold hands found their way to your shoulders.

"F**k, Ed." You breathed out, earning a laugh from the man behind you.

"You should probably get some sleep, mein Schatz." The cold hands found your face, turning it to face the doctor's own. Placing careful kisses down your cheek and neck, "Thank you for helping me~"

A firey red blush crept onto your face as your older lover spoke, "O-Of course, shall we?"

The doctor looked at you quizzically as you extended your hand, "was?"

"Go to bed... You just said-"

"I said, 'you should get some sleep.' Nein, I have work to attend to." He said, swatting his own hand.

"Edward! You need sleep too." You scolded, pulling your trousers back up to your waist.

"Und I will, just not at this moment in time."

"Then, I'll wait." You said, taking a seat, next to his desk.

"Why when you could just lay on the mattress, right there-?" He asked, pointing to the mattress on the floor, with torn blankets covering it. Also known as the makeshift bed the two of you had been sharing.

"Because, I might fall asleep and not be able to keep an eye on you."

An endearing giggle erupted from the older man, "please lay down, Ich will join you as soon as I've looked over these blueprints, liebe."

"Nein." You spoke, mocking his mother tounge.

With an esperated sigh, he continued to study the papers he had found littered around the building, taking notes on a small piece of blank parchment.

The feeling of tiredness grew in your eyes as you laid your head against the hard wood desk, he sat at, looking up at him.

He truly was gorgeous from every angle you watched from. Your eyes grew dry and heavy, every blink lingering a little longer, your breathing slowed and you could hear your steady heartbeat.

One blink and suddenly you could no longer open your eyes, unknowingly slipping into a trance of sleep.

"You know, these are actually very flawed in desg-" Richtofen paused, as he glanced down at your sleeping form.

Head laid against a drawer of his desk, body almost limp, eyes closed ever so lightly and your lips were slightly parted, almost pouting.

Edward rolled his eyes, letting out a laugh, "Exactly."

He got out of his seat, wrapping an arm around your back and under your arm, while the other grabbed at your thigh. He pulled you close to his body and carried you bridal style to the small mattress, your eyes fluttered open as he set you down.

"....Eddie-?" You called, still asleep, turning over as Richtofen threw the blankets over you.

"Shh! I'm almost done, then I'll join you." He spoke quietly, he received no answer. He glanced back over to his desk and sighed, "it can wait."

He slipped out of his wrinkled white shirt and trousers, lifting the blankets up he curled around your sleeping body.

Soon the doctor also succumb to sleep, his hands wrapping tightly around you, pulling you close. Through out the night, the two of you curled and entangled into one another.

When morning rose, sun shining through the windows of the cursed infirmary. Richtofen's sensitive eyes, blinded by the morning sun, waking him from his slumber. Your head hidden from the light from his larger figure, he turned slightly but felt a friction that made his breath hitch.

"Verdammt-! Was ist heir- Oh nein!" He said, snaking a hand to his waist, feeling his er*ct*on against his fingers, "Scheiße-!"

The doctor moved slightly away from your sleeping form, but as the cold air bit into your sensitive sleeping skin. Your unconscious mind, moved back as well, searching for the warmth and comfort.

Edward couldn't help but release a small laugh at the thought of you chasing after him, even in your sleep, "Mein liebe, bitte-"

"...Ed-die.?" You groaned out followed by a string of unintelligible gibberish, tossing over onto your side to face the doctor.

Edward placed a soft and quick kiss to your forehead, groaning as his er*ct*on rubbed against the mattress. He glanced down to make sure he hadn't woken you, "if only you were awake, you're always so eager..."

You groaned out once more, almost responding to him, just a simple, "hmm" but hearing your voice right now was much more than the German could handle.

"Eager?" Richtofen thought, "meaning if I asked you- Nein! If you woke up with me rutting meinself into you, like some horny dog, you'd-" he paused, not sure what you would think.

"I'll just be gentle, ja? I won't wake you." He said to himself, his judgment highly clouded.

He lifted the blankets up, drawing out a small noise from you, he unzipped your trousers. Removing them carefully, "why can't you be normal und not sleep with pants on?"

His cold hands found your warm back, he whispered in your ear as he moved you onto your stomach, "I owe you after this, my little help."

Getting behind you, Edward took a deep breath in, he licked his hand, coating it in his saliva and began to carefully stroke his now aching c**k. He moaned louder than he realized, only to throw a hand up to his mouth, muffeling his sounds.

"Please, don't hate me for this.." He pushed himself into you, slowly.

"Ah-... Edw-ard-?" You called out in your sleep, your face schrunching together.

"Shh Shh, bitte, mein liebe, stay asleep." Edward said, laying ontop of you.

Moving slightly, just barely humping himself into you, but it was working, the doctor had to focus on keeping his moans and whines quiet. While also trying to be gentle as to not disturb your slumber, "Mein gott, du are perfekt-!"

Your moans got louder, as Edward pumped into you, every movement, rubbed your c**k against the mattress.

"Shh Shh, bitte." He pleaded, his eyes squinting from fighting the feeling of rising pleasure.

"Ich... just need a little more-" He pleaded, placing his hands on your hips.

"....F**k-" you groaned out, Edward heard and could no longer hold himself back as he was so near his climax, he began to slam into you. How he typically would, he breathlessly groaned out as he reached his need resolution. C*mming into you, he pulled out and laid back, watching his c*m drip down onto your legs.

"Really, Ed? What f**king time is it?" You groaned, adjusting your position.

"Ich-... Uhh I-I did not know you were-"

"Awake? Do you think that helps your case?" You asked, placing a hand around your own now hard c**k.

"A-Are you mad, mein Liebe?" Ed asked tilting his head down in shame.

"Nein, baby, of course not." You said, earning his attention. Edward snapped his head back up staring at you, your groggy expression sent a shiver down his spine.

"Ah-! Thank gott!" He placed a hand to his chest.

"Truth be told I think it's kinda hot, to be woken up by a older man desperately ramming into me in search of something only I can provide." You shared, an almost sadistic smile playing at your dry lips.

"Keep speaking to me like that und we won't get anything done today, mein little helper."  Richtofen teased, laying over you to gently kiss at your lips.

"Oh, we're going again, Ed, you got me all riled up in your wild frenzy." You whispered at him.

Drawing out a small growl as you took his hand to feel at your member, leaking onto his hand.

"Ah- ich- When you had said, that you when I umm-" He was at a loss for words.

"For now, let's use that pretty mouth to help, doctor"  you instructed.

"Jawhol!" He said, wasting no time in taking you into his mouth. He licked up your base and placed delicate kisses to the tip, his hands softly massaging your balls.

The warm feeling of his mouth fully enveloping you and his tounge moving over every inch sent your brain into overdrive. His large, slim hands touching your balls and thighs, kneading the soft, doughy flesh made you throw your head back.

You snaked a hand up in his hair, "Ah-! Yes, Ed- right there-!" Your moans were delicious but something echoed in his mind from earlier.

A whine replaced your moans, when he pulled his face away, "call me Eddie, bitte."

"E-Eddie, why?" You asked, knowing you really only called him that when you were by yourself, being far too insecure to call a much older man by such a childish name.

Although, to you it was quite the fitting name as you adored him and wanted a Nickname for him, so you used it typically only when pleasuring yourself.

"Sometimes, when your asleep or preoccupied you slip and call me it... I think it's cute when you cry out for me using such a name." He explained, the words slipping out one at a time as he placed kisses down your length to your balls.

He stopped to look you in your eyes, "Eddie... bitte." You said, keeping eye contact as he began to suck on the soft skin of your balls.

His hand moving to pump around you, the whole scene of him staring into his steel grey eyes, caused you to become harder aching after his hand.

You hips would jerk up into his hand, moaning, "Eddie, please."

His grip on your c**k tightened when he felt your balls contract, "you want to c*m for me? Ja Ja? Wait, baby, wait a little longer."

He let go, you swore under your breath at his unwanted action. He once again placed a kiss to the tip and took you in his mouth, "c*m for me."

His command was muffled by your appendage in his mouth, but the vibrations the command sent through you was enough to start the rise for your climax. You began rutting into his mouth, your hips stuttering as he choked around you, "f**k yes- yes. Oh Edward, f**k."

You climax into his mouth, moaning loudly as you collapsed under him, he wiped the access c*m off of his lips. Tasting his fingers, moving to lay beside you on the mattress.

"So... about earlier, that was going to be a one time thing, but-"

"We can talk about this another time, Ed." You dismissed, "Just be sure you get consent before trying it again."

Your demand was only met with a "Ja, ja, of course."

[buckysgrace]

Sixty Nine

CW: Violence

“You shouldn’t be here,” Billy found the courage to speak first, “The cops are looking for you. You need to leave.” Kim found herself lingering behind Billy, not wanting to meet Neil’s wrathful blue eyes. She discreetly tugged at the back of Billy’s shirt, trying to urge him back out the way they had come in. 

“We have time to talk,” Neil dismissed Billy’s worries, “Sit. Both of you.” Billy glanced behind him, nodding towards her before he moved to the couch. Kim’s footsteps felt rough and like her feet weighed tons as she followed behind him. Her heart was racing in her chest, for she knew that nothing good could come from Neil’s mouth. She made sure to sit far apart from Billy and did her best to discreetly tuck the ring back inside of her shirt without Neil catching her.

It was silent for a moment as Neil just sat there, glancing back and forth between the two of them. Kim found her nails digging into the cushion of the couch, her heart beating roughly with panic as she feared what Neil would want to talk about. She glanced towards Billy, watching as his foot began to bounce again. 

“Dad, really,” Billy drew out, filling the silent room with his words, “If they catch you then -” He began, trying to remind his father that it was safer if he left. Neil cut him off quickly, his blue eyes cold and harsh. 

“You’ve been lying to me.” Neil told him seriously. Kim watched the way he flexed his fingers together and how he seemed to be holding back his anger. He looked as if he was going to implode as a cloud of fury circled around him. Kim felt her breathing beginning to stutter inside of her chest. 

“What?” Billy looked towards Neil confused, “How have I lied to you?” He asked seriously, looking a little frustrated from Neil’s accusation. Kim bit her lip, wishing he wouldn’t argue about it. She glanced over Neil’s shoulder, beginning to hope that Hopper or any of the other deputies would show up. Neil chuckled softly as he rubbed his fingers along his thick mustache. 

“You’re doing drugs again,” Neil said simply as disappointment clouded his features, “I thought we had an agreement.” Kim watched the way Billy tensed and held his fingers together. He looked like he was going to respond quickly but he stopped, his lips moving as he rehearsed what to say. Neil took it as an opportunity to pull out a bottle of pills. Kim stared at it curiously before she turned back towards Billy.  

“I never used those,” Billy defended himself as Neil kept a tight grip on the pill bottle, “I thought about it, but I never used it.” He pleaded with his father, sounding sincere. Kim stared at the familiar bottle, wondering what was locked inside it. She had a feeling it wasn’t weed, but to her knowledge, he had never taken anything harder than that. 

“The Munson boy told me all about how you buy from him,” Neil’s eyes cut into Billy like glass, “You’re lying to me.” Kim felt her heart pattering nervously as she glanced towards Billy. His face was stoic, like he was trying to hide his emotions deep away. She wasn’t sure what would bring Eddie to expose Billy’s habits, but she didn’t like it. She didn’t like the way Neil was trying to expose him, like he was looking for someone else to get angry with. 

“It doesn’t look like it’s been touched,” Kim persisted slowly as she finally found the courage to speak, “He hasn’t used anything.” She nodded towards the bottle, thinking that it looked fairly full. Billy exhaled deeply, his eyes finding the floor as he continued to bounce his foot. Neil was staring at his movements, beginning to look quite irritated. Neil turned towards Kim suddenly, causing her to sink back into the chair. 

“Do you know why we moved here? Has Billy told you that?” Neil questioned her harshly. Kim felt her lips part in confusion as she spared a glance towards Billy. She quickly turned back to Neil as she began to tug at the ends of her hair. 

“It’s not important,” Kim said softly, noticing the way Billy was refusing to look at her, “I don’t blame anyone for that.” She was in the dark, but that didn’t matter right now. She knew that whenever Billy was ready, he’d tell her. Neil shook his head as he laughed, turning to look at Billy in disbelief. Billy’s eyes were still trained on the floor, like he was fearing Neil would bring it up. 

“A cop brought him home,” Neil turned towards Kim again, looking irritated suddenly, “He was going to jump from a bridge.” He didn’t try to soften the blow of his sentence. Kim blinked quickly, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she absorbed Neil’s words. She glanced towards Billy again, thinking that it didn’t sound like something he’d do. Her heart hurt suddenly as she remembered how different he had seemed up until they moved. She thought back towards the drawer in his room, thinking of the pieces of paper that held dates. 

“I wasn’t going to jump,” Billy mumbled underneath his breath. He twisted at his rings softly, still looking at the floor as if he was ashamed, “I was just sitting there.” He defended himself softly, as if he had this conversation with Neil a hundred different times. She wondered if this is why Neil would have random check ups with Billy. 

She looked at him, feeling a pang inside of her chest as she fought the urge to reach for Billy. She didn’t know that things had been that bad, that he had been hurting so much. She felt guilty, terrible even as she wondered if she had helped resort him to that issue.

“It’s not his fault,” Kim said at last, referencing the move. She was looking at Billy as she spoke, hoping that he knew that, “He just needed support.” Kim nodded her head as she gave Billy a reassuring look. He glanced up at her , his blue eyes unreadable before he quickly looked back towards the ground. 

“Like a little bitch.” Neil snapped back as he glared towards his son. Kim’s eyes found Neil’s hands again and she stared at the bruises along his knuckles. She gulped hard, sadness bubbling inside of her again as she thought about how hard Susan must’ve been hit. She felt the room growing even colder. Billy exhaled softly.

“I’ve only smoked some pot,” Billy looked up towards him suddenly. Kim watched the way his mouth moved, “I promise.” He said urgently. She watched him for a moment as she felt a hole opening up in her chest. She turned away after a second, realizing it was because she knew he was lying. She tugged on the ends of her hair harder, hoping that Neil couldn’t tell that he was. 

“You two seem to have grown close.” Neil observed after a few moments of silence. Kim was growing antsy, her anxiety pulsing deep inside of her body. She breathed in deeply, trying to relax her nerves. She had a feeling everything was going to go bad. 

“Not really,” Billy tried to dismiss him quickly, “We just have similar friends.” Billy lied as he glanced towards Kim. She nodded her head, trying to keep up with the story that he had produced. She was too afraid to look at Neil, too afraid that he would know the truth. Billy’s eyes looked just as withdrawn, like he understood what was about to happen. 

“You’re fucking.” Neil’s features were relaxed, his eyes hazy as he took a long time to stare at the two of them. Kim’s heart stopped, her veins turning to ice as his words settled between them. 

“What?” She asked, doing her best to be in disbelief. She could feel the familiar pang inside of her chest and she found herself beginning to rub at her collarbone. She inhaled sharply as she began to take short, sharp breaths of air. She didn’t want to give away anything to Neil. It was like he was analyzing them, waiting for the smallest action to give away that he had caught them. 

“No,” Billy dismissed his claims quickly, “We wouldn’t do that.” Billy spoke urgently. Kim could feel her palms growing sweaty and she suddenly wondered if they really would have to leave. Neil stared Billy down for the longest time. Kim gulped hard, listening to the way the clock began to chime. 

“Interesting,” He nodded his head, glancing between the two of them like he knew something they didn’t, “Then what the fuck are these?” His tone was angry, laced with hate and irritation as he pushed down four polaroids on the table in front of them. Kim stared at the pictures, feeling a sickening feeling in her chest as her veins turned to ice. Her heart was slowing down, beating in fear as her hair stood up straight.

She stared at the picture of her and Billy smiling, their cheeks pressed together. She could clearly see that the two of them weren’t wearing anything, but they may have been able to defend that somehow. The second picture was the first one he ever took of her. She could make out her plump lips but nothing else gave her away. The third picture was the most damning. She was sitting on his lap, her pussy full of his hard cock as their mixture dripped onto his thighs. She was wearing his letterman jacket, her face full of bliss as she stared at the camera. Kim’s eyes moved towards the last picture, the one they took together in Chicago. They looked happy, they were holding onto far too close. They didn’t look like siblings, they looked like they were in love. 

They had been caught.

There was no way to talk their way out of this, or explain away any of the photos in front of them. Billy knew it too as he fell quiet, his entire demeanor changing next to hers. He was stiff, his expression stoic as the silence filled the room. Kim felt cold despite the hot sun shining in through the windows. Neil waited, his eyebrows slightly raised and his fingers linked as if he expected them to come up with another lie. 

They both continued to remain quiet, like they were children who had just been caught doing something wrong and were now awaiting their punishment. Kim glanced towards the door, wondering if they could both make a break for it. Neil drew her attention back towards him as he leaned forward and reached for her. She was too afraid to jolt away. Neil’s fingers twisted around the chain on her neck before he roughly tugged it off and held the ring high in the air.

“My grandfather’s,” Neil turned towards Billy, “You gave her his ring?” Kim inhaled shakily as she turned towards Billy, feeling absolutely clueless as to whose ring it had been. She had just figured it was one that he had bought when he was younger, one that he outgrew. Everything made sense suddenly for why Neil would’ve become so suspicious. 

“I love her.” Billy’s voice was soft as he spoke. He drew his eyes up from the floor and met Neil’s eyes. Kim’s body warmed at his words but she feared what Neil would do in retaliation. He looked just as hateful, as angry as he listened to Billy speak. 

“You don’t know what that is,” Neil dismissed his statement quickly. Kim was rubbing at her neck again, finding the urge to scratch at her skin, “She’ll ruin your life.” Neil turned towards Kim, giving her a look that made her want to sink into the cushions and hide away. She had never experienced someone looking at her in such a vile way before as if she had done something horrific. 

“No,” Billy shook his head quickly. Kim wasn’t sure how he was finding the courage to speak against Neil, “She won’t. She’s not like that.” Billy turned towards Kim, shooting her a reassuring nod as if he really believed he could change Neil’s mind. She held her arms closer to her chest. 

“All girls are like that,” Neil’s eyes were icy as he watched her, “She’s a slut.” He drew out, his words full of venom. She tried to gulp but was unable to do so with the giant lump in the back of her throat. She was scared. She didn’t know what would happen. 

“Don’t call her that.” Billy snapped back. A different tension filled the room as the same angry lines filled Billy’s face. Kim began to feel worse, fearing what would come between the two men. Neil cocked an eyebrow, looking surprised that Billy was speaking against him. 

“Billy,” She breathed out quickly, “It’s fine. Let’s go.” She moved towards the edge of the couch, wanting to put as much of a distance between them as she could. She didn’t want to argue about this anymore, there was no point. As soon as they left, they could call the police. She bit her lip, ignoring the look Neil sent her. 

“He’s not going anywhere,” Neil responded quickly, laughing a bit as he turned to face his son, “Are you?” He said slowly, waiting for Billy to nod his head and agree. Billy licked his bottom lip, like he was debating on the best way to break the news to Neil. 

“I’m not leaving, Kim.” He said softly, sounding serious as he held his hands together. He looked towards her again, worry filling his eyes. She shifted in her chair, glancing over her shoulder at where the phone was resting. She gnawed at her bottom lip, trying to think of a way to get them out of this situation. 

“She’s brainwashed you.” Neil said at last, sounding disappointed as he spoke to Billy. Kim looked away when Neil turned towards her again. It made her feel sick, uncomfortable. She wanted out of here. 

“Dad,” Billy exhaled deeply, looking a little frustrated, “The cops are looking for you, you should go.” He told him quickly, sounding like he wanted Neil to leave just as badly. Kim tugged on her fingers, twisting them together as she struggled to breath. 

“Oh,” Neil nodded, “Because you care about what happens to me?” Neil’s lips parted, growing into a soft smile as if he thought Billy’s words were funny. Kim dug her nails into her skin as the tension within her grew. She began to stand, feeling like she was going to begin panicking if she stayed here any longer, “Sit down.” Neil snapped at her, causing her to move further back in her seat. 

“I do,” Billy told him quickly, sparing a glance towards Kim. He looked just as worried, “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He looked at Neil again as he began to plead with his father. It was like Neil was holding onto him tightly, as if he was afraid to let go. 

“You’re picking that whore over me?” Neil’s features were drawn up in disbelief, looking as if he didn’t know who Billy was. Kim breathed in deeply, not really caring what Neil called her as long as they got out of here. Billy’s lips curled up. 

“Don’t call her that.” He told Neil seriously, a storm flashing in his eyes. She glanced between the two of them, still trying to understand what Neil wanted out of this conversation. She knew that Billy wouldn’t go with him and she couldn’t understand why he was trying so hard.

“Oh, you’re a tough guy now are you?” Neil chuckled, looking amused as the way Billy spoke towards him. He curled his lips down and nodded his head, still laughing as he sat at the edge of his seat. Kim glanced towards the pictures, wishing she could hide them away. She felt humiliation trickling inside of her every time they caught her eye. 

“Let’s just go,” Kim told Billy urgently, hoping to escape, “It’s not worth it. Come on.” She stood fully this time. Billy nodded quickly before he stood. He glanced back towards Neil, looking at the ring he was still holding onto. 

“He’s not leaving, not until we get this settled,” Neil stood with them. He wasn’t much taller than Kim, but she felt as if he was towering over her at this moment, “Just wait until you knock her up, you’ll know exactly how I felt.” Neil turned towards Billy, looking at him seriously. Kim paused for a moment, wondering if that’s why he had been insisting on making her take a pregnancy test this whole time. 

“I’m not going to be like you.” Billy said softly, looking a bit withdrawn as he took a step closer to Kim. She reached forward, gripping his hand tightly as she stayed near him. Neil’s eyes burned into her skin, watching the way they held onto each other. 

“You’re exactly like me.” Neil hissed in anger, taking a small step forward. Kim found herself moving back, even though Billy kept his feet grounded. It was the first she had ever watched Billy keep his stance while speaking back to Neil. 

“No he’s not,” Kim defended him quickly, “He’s nothing like you.” She breathed out, telling Neil the truth. Billy was so much different than his father. She needed to make sure that Billy remembered that, that he wouldn’t allow for Neil to rope his negative thoughts back in. Neil moved fast, gripping Kim’s shoulders so tightly that she squealed in protest. His fingertips were digging into her skin, squeezing her tightly as he shook her back and forth. 

“Hey,” Billy was protesting loudly as he used his hand to remove the tight grip from one of her shoulders. Neil’s face was red with anger as he smacked at Billy’s hands, “Hey, let her go!” Billy shouted louder this time. He shoved harshly as Neil’s shoulder, this time forcing his father away. Kim stumbled back before she looked down at where her skin was turning red from his tight grip.

Neil moved faster this time, a sickening crunch filling the room as his fist connected with Billy’s face. Kim winced, trying to pull Billy away before Neil gripped a fistful of her hair. She yelped, tears forming in her eyes from how tightly he held onto her before he was tossing her in the opposite direction. She landed with a loud thud, sliding across the floor as she gripped at her scalp in pain. 

“You’re ungrateful,” Kim was still wincing as she looked back towards them. Neil delivered another punch towards Billy, hitting him each time his head was down from the harsh blows, “Can’t you see I’m trying to help you?” He shoved Billy back, easily avoiding Billy’s punch. Billy cried out as Neil twisted his arm back harshly. Neil kept the grip on him, taking the chance to hit him again. 

She was quick to drag herself off of the ground, her mind feeling fuzzy as she took a shaky step forward. Neil had a hold of Billy, one tight grip on the back of his hair after he delivered blow after blow. Her heart lurched at the sight, looking at how Billy wasn’t trying to defend himself at all. It was like he thought that Neil’s fury would be over faster if he did nothing at all. 

“Don’t touch him!” Kim tried to grab a hold of Neil’s arm but was roughly shoved back against the couch. She hit it so hard that it nearly toppled over. She balanced herself again before she lurched forward. She gripped a hold of Neil’s bicep this time, putting all of her weight into her motions to keep his fist from hitting Billy again. 

Billy collapsed onto his knees, groaning as blood traveled down the front of his shirt and onto the floor. Neil kicked his foot forward, connecting his shoe with Billy’s abdomen to send the younger boy onto his hands. Kim felt her own sound of pain leave her mouth at the sight.

Neil shrugged her off easily, his face full of fury as he loomed over her. She shuffled her feet back quickly, trying to put some distance between the two of them. She glanced towards the phone again, wondering how quickly she could make it over there. He gripped her hair again, squeezing it so tightly that she swore he was going to rip her hair out. 

“That hurts,” She protested as tears began to form in her eyes. Neil tugged harshly, yanking it hard enough that she was forced to stare up at him. She whimpered, her hands gripping at his wrist so she could try and force him off of her, “Please stop.” She begged, her eyes fleeting towards Billy. He was slowly pushing himself off of the floor, just barely resting on his hands and knees now. 

“You want to be a little whore,” He gripped a hold of Kim harshly as Billy shook his head from the floor, blood flowing from his nose and mouth as he tried to get a hold of his surroundings again, “Why don’t you just share with the rest of us?” Kim was crying now, trying to yank herself away as Neil gripped onto her shirt. Panic was flowing through her now as she pushed against him, trying to fight back as much as she could. It felt like it was pointless, like all of her punches against his chest only made him that much more amused. She could feel the material of her shirt ripping, shredding down her side as he exposed her. She screamed, trying to cover herself while he squeezed her wrist harshly to keep her from moving. She kicked her feet towards him, squirming harshly as she tried to wiggle away from him. 

“Stop,” She cried, trying to hold the shreds of her shirt in place so that her bra wasn’t exposed to the older man, “Please stop it.” She pleaded, her breathing becoming more harsh as her body began to react the same way it did when she thought about Logan. She was panicking, her heart beginning to burn inside of her chest from how hard it was beating. 

“You can spread your legs for your brother but not your dad?” Neil’s lips were curled up in disgust as he yanked her hair, nearly lifting her off of her feet as he dragged her closer to him. She whimpered, holding her arms out in front of her so her body wouldn’t be pressed against his. He shook her like a rag doll as he tried to bring her even closer. Her shoes slid against the floor as she tried to press back, not even caring if he ripped her hair out of her scalp.

“You’re not my dad!” She cried out, still trying to kick him away from her. He backhanded her hard, knocking her head clear in the other direction. She froze there for a moment, her face feeling like it was temporarily numb from how hard he had hit her. Her face erupted into pain, her skin stinging harshly as she nearly toppled over. Her mind turned fuzzy for a moment as she tried to recollect herself. It was like he had knocked all of her thoughts around into a jumbled mess in her mind as she temporarily forgot what she had been doing. 

Billy moved forward, swinging at his dad but missing again. Neil held onto Billy’s fist, squeezing it tightly before he shoved Billy back onto the coffee table. Kim winced, finding herself stepping forward as Billy laid into a pile of broken glass and wood. 

Neil gripped her neck harshly, leaving her clawing at his hands as he momentarily cut off her air flow. She felt her eyes widen, her cheeks burning as she struggled to breath. Neil grunted as he tossed her back, throwing her like a toy as she landed in front of Billy with a harsh thud. She winced, her spine erupting into pain from the way she smacked into the ground. A whimper left her mouth as she struggled to sit up, small pieces of glass sticking out of her hands. 

“Kim,” Billy grunted as he moved over her a bit. His large hand cupped her chin softly, looking over her cheek in worry. She stared at the blood that continued to ooze from his mouth and the bruises that were already covering his face. His bottom lip had a large cut that looked quite painful the more she looked at it, “Are you okay?” He asked, his tone full of worry. He fumbled with her shirt, like he could somehow fix it. She nodded her head, her cheeks still wet from the tears that were pouring from her eyes. 

“Okay, tough guy,” Billy yelped as Neil grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, yanking him back towards his feet, “You think you’re a man now?” Billy wiped at his mouth, looking exhausted as Neil kept a tightly grip on him. 

“Neil, please stop,” Kim begged, moving her hands onto the floor in front of her so she could push herself up from the floor. She winced, pulling her hands back quickly as tiny shards of glass pressed into her skin, “That’s enough.” Her voice shook as she spoke. She clung her bloody palms towards her chest, feeling the panic continuing to grow inside of her. Neil bore a crooked grin as he looked towards her.

“What?” Neil shoved Billy harshly, “You need your whore to stick up for you?” Billy shuffled back a few steps, nearly knocking into the broken wood on the floor. Kim lurched forward a bit, feeling pieces of glass pressing against her knees as she worried Billy would fall into the giant mess. 

“She’s not a whore,” Billy steadied himself, keeping his feet grounded against the floor, “You need to leave.” Billy said firmly this time. Neil’s eyebrows rose high, his face burning with anger as Billy stood up to him. Kim glanced towards the phone again, wondering if she could make it over quick enough to call the police. She shifted onto her knees, debating about it for a moment longer. 

“She is a whore,” Neil repeated, taking a step closer. Billy didn’t step back this time, “And you’re pathetic. Like your mother.” Silence filled the room and Kim was fairly certain she could hear her own blood vessels moving inside of her. Billy’s eyebrows furrowed together for a moment, his mouth parting as he took a step back from Neil. His shoulders were tense, his body language heavy.

Neil looked smug, as if he knew that his words would make Billy shut down. Kim’s eyes moved down the length of Billy’s arm, watching as he quickly moved his fingers into a tight fist. He waited until Neil’s eyes landed upon Kim again, Neil’s lips parting like he was going to say something snarky again. 

Billy lunged, his fist connecting with Neil’s face. Kim felt her eyes widening, completely taken aback from Billy’s actions. She figured it must’ve been his snapping point as he took a hold of Neil’s collar and hit him again. Neil groaned in pain, beginning to stumble backwards. 

Kim curled up, holding her legs towards her chest as Billy swung at Neil again. He hit him repeatedly, the sound echoing into the silent room. Billy looked angry in a way she had never seen before. She feared this side of him, wondering what it would take for him to stop. She was breathing harshly as she watched the way Neil fell to his knees, then flat onto the floor just as Billy had earlier. Billy stumbled back, watching for a few minutes as if to confirm that Neil was done fighting. His shoulders were moving roughly, his breathing louder as he stared at the lump on the floor. 

“Billy,” She scooted forward, taking a hold of his hand as gently as she could, “It’s okay.” She murmured, watching the way his body was shaking. He shot his eyes down towards her, they were still blazing with anger for a moment before they softened. 

“Shit,” He turned her palms quickly, looking at the little scratches from where the glass had cut into her skin, “You’re bleeding.” He brushed his fingertips across her skin, looking worried as if she was seriously injured. She looked over his shoulder, watching the way Neil’s foot shifted with motion. 

“I’m okay,” She looked at him urgently, “We need to go.” She whispered, her eyes still brimming with tears. She was afraid of what would happen when Neil rose again. She didn’t want to stay here and fight. They needed to call the police and leave. She exhaled sharply as she felt a prickly feeling growing along her clammy palms.

“Hold on,” Billy tried to shush her, still trying to look at her hands as she pulled them towards her chest. She shook her head quickly, watching as Neil was forcing his way up to his hands, “It’s okay.” He reassured her quickly, but stood regardlessly. Kim watched as the two men stared at each other, sizing each other up for a moment. 

“Don’t come crawling back when she ruins your life,” Neil spat out in hatred, his eyes still flashing in fury. Despite that, Kim could tell that he was exhausted. She swore she saw a bit of sadness hidden deep within his eyes. She prayed he let it go, that he didn’t push the issue any further, “You’ll regret it. I know.” He was still speaking directly towards Billy. He held Billy’s eye contact for a long time before he turned. Kim watched as he limped towards the back door and slammed it so hard that the whole house shook. 

The room was quiet for a long time. Kim’s eyes drifted towards Billy as he swayed back and forth. He was holding his fist tightly and she watched as he clenched and released his fingers. She wondered how badly they hurt. He walked forward suddenly, following behind Neil and for a moment she feared that he would disappear. He quickly locked the door before he rested his forehead against it, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. 

She was trembling when he returned to her, her whole body shaking as she stared ahead. She was still crying, breathing roughly as if something was squeezing her heart to the point it would pop. She squeezed her fingers together tightly, trying to make herself calm down. Billy pulled a blanket over her shoulders, allowing her to hide her exposed skin. 

“Hey, hey,” Billy was pushing her hair from her face, cupping her cheeks gently as he urged her to look at him, “Calm down. We’re fine now, just take a deep breath.” He was trying to calm her down as his hands rubbed down her arms. She winced, feeling a pain in her arms from where Neil had grabbed her. She inhaled sharply but it was quickly followed by more quick spurts of gasping.

“I can’t,” She cried, her chest moving in quick spurts as the lights seemed to be going off and on around them, “It hurts.” She breathed harshly, unable to fully fill her lungs with air. Billy rubbed her back softly, still trying to soothe her. Billy rocked her softly, pulling her towards his chest. She shook in his arms, feeling like the food in her stomach was going to make a reappearance. 

“I know, I know,” He had his own tears in his eyes as he held onto her, “You just have to breathe through it, okay. In and out.” He guided her again, his eyes looking desperate. She inhaled sharply, trying to focus on the color in his eyes instead of the harsh beating inside of her chest. She sniffled harshly as he gently rubbed circles into her back. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to bring her focus back to Earth. 

It took a few more minutes until her breathing was calm, until her tears were dried. She found herself leaning against Billy, sniffling as he pulled her against his chest. She rested there for a long time, staying quiet as her mind went blank. She focused on the way he was holding her, the sound of him breathing and the way his heart was beating inside of his chest. His thumbs rubbed circles into her skin as he pulled her closer.

“What are we going to do?” She mumbled at last, her forehead resting against his cheek. He exhaled softly, pushing her hair out of her face messily again. He pressed his lips against her forehead softly. She glanced up towards him, wondering if it hurt with his cracked lip. She hoped that it didn’t.

“No one else has to know,” Billy said at last. She sat up to face him, watching the way the skin underneath his eye was beginning to swell, “This has to be the worst to come. We won’t tell Susan, we’ll play it safe.” He sounded like he already had a plan. Kim nodded her head, thinking that it was smarter to keep her mother out of the loop. She didn’t want her to have any more stress about anything. She only feared that Neil would find a way to expose them. 

“Okay.” She wasn’t sure what to say or how to handle the situation that had just happened. Everything seemed so gray to her. She didn’t know if she had an answer to her question at all. How long could they really hide before Susan found out? She didn’t want to think about it. She wished that they could be normal, that they could’ve had the chance. Billy sighed softly, like he could read her thoughts. 

“Let me see,” He tilted her head softly, frowning as he looked at her sore cheek, “It’s really red.” He paused before he lifted up her hands, looking at the way her palms were bleeding. She watched as he examined them, looking to see if there was anymore glass in her skin. 

“It’s okay.” She said softly as she glanced at him. It felt silly for him to be so worried about her when her injuries seemed to be so minor compared to his own. Billy drew his eyes towards her, nodding softly as he held her eye contact. She looked at the sadness and worry that swirled in there and wondered how she’d be able to make it go away. 

“Let’s clean it up,” He told her softly, “Do you feel okay?” He asked her softly. She felt like it was a loaded question. Her body hurt, but her heart was hurting even more. She wished she would stop panicking so badly. She felt like in some way that Logan still had a grip on her. “We should go.” She said at last, desperately wanting to get to the hotel. She didn’t trust being here, just in case Neil came back. She glanced towards the phone but was too tired to try and make her way towards it. She didn’t care about being bruised or that her hands were bleeding. She didn’t even care about taking their clothes. She just wanted to go where it would be safe. “It’s okay,” He reassured her softly, “Let’s get cleaned up and then get our bags. We’re okay now.” She stared at him for a moment, still thinking that it wasn’t a good idea. She stayed quiet, realizing he looked as if he didn’t want to argue about it. He left for a moment and she listened to the sound of water running as she stared at the mess in front of her. 

He knelt in front of her again, gently pulling out her first aid box. He held a washcloth on his thigh as he pulled her hands towards him. She took in another deep, shaky breath as her heart continued to rattle in her chest. She wasn’t sure what she should say or how she should address the situation at hand. She wondered how he was feeling, if he was trying to simmer his anger away. 

She watched as Billy dabbed her hands clean. She did her best not to wince, but she couldn’t help with how badly it hurt. She felt a numb feeling spreading inside of her that she did her best to erase.

“Billy?” She asked him quietly, feeling something weighing heavy inside of her chest. He continued to clean at her hands, the stinging slowly beginning to fade away. He drew his blue eyes up towards her slowly, holding eye contact for just a second before he looked back down to her skin. 

“Hm?” He hummed softly, still looking concentrated as he worked on her hands. She watched the way his nose scrunched up as he worked, his movements gentle and soft. She pondered for a moment, wondering how to phrase her next question. 

“You have a paper filled with dates in your drawer,” She started slowly, registering the way his grip slowly began to stiffen against her hand, “What are they?” She tilted her head, hoping that he would look up at her again. He hesitated, pressing his lips tightly together. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He dismissed her worries as he slowly dried the cuts on her palms. He pulled a bandaid up and gently placed it over her larger cut. She looked down at the scar on her hand that she had also gained from one of Neil’s outbursts before she turned towards Billy again. 

“It does to me.” She told him truthfully, watching the way he slowly released her hand. She pulled them towards her chest, feeling a bit worried over how he’d react. Billy exhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. Kim waited, sure that he would try to change the subject. He slowly opened his eyes again, turning to look at her this time. 

“I don’t like winter,” He said at last, “I don’t like how the sun doesn’t shine, I don’t like how it makes me feel. I just don’t feel like myself.” She thought of the winters in San Diego. They weren’t nearly as cold as what it got here, but they were still cold. It often rained more, the clouds were always more gloomy. Not to mention that the ocean always seemed to be freezing at that point. She could understand how Billy didn’t like it. 

“Winter can be hard,” She confirmed, thinking about how cold it used to get in her old apartment, “Is that why you took drugs?” She questioned him gently. Billy licked his bottom lip, like he was trying to find the exact reason for it. 

“I guess,” He shrugged his shoulders, “Sometimes my mind was just too much. I don’t know, it’s dumb. It just didn’t feel like life was worth living.” He explained, sounding like his own words didn’t make sense to him. She listened quietly and absorbed his words, wishing she could understand what he meant. She’d been through tough situations but to her knowledge, she had never thought that life wasn’t worth living. Her heart silently broke for him, wishing that she had known what he had been going through. 

“Did you want to jump?” Her heart was beating slowly, aching harshly inside of her chest. She stared at Billy, watching the way he was averting his eyes again like he was ashamed. She didn’t want him to feel bad, she just wanted to know so she could help him. 

“Maybe,” Billy mumbled underneath his breath, “I guess in a way.” He had a far away expression painted on his face, like he really wasn’t here at the moment. She moved closer to him and gently tugged his bruised hands towards her. He glanced at her again before he returned his eyes towards the floor. 

“That’s what the dates are then?” She asked softly, nearly hating to ask him, “Each time you changed your mind?” She watched the way he suddenly appeared smaller, sadder the more he thought about it. She wished that she could take all of his pain and hurt away. She wasn’t sure why he had to go through so much at a young age. She wished that she had answers for him. 

“Yeah.” He nodded his head as he finally spoke up again. He paused before he twisted their fingers together, just barely holding onto her. She moved closer again, softly pressing herself against him as she tilted his head towards her. She leaned forward, pressing her lips against the side of his lips that wasn’t injured. He breathed in softly, his blue eyes beginning to glisten as his lips parted again, like he was trying to think of something else to say. She could easily read the vulnerability in his features as she quickly thought of a way to make it easier for him. 

“Remember the first time it snowed here,” She said softly, speaking of the first memory that came to her mind, “None of us had ever seen it before. I kept slipping down the driveway because of the ice.” She mentioned, thinking of how excited she had been to see snow for the first time. She thought of how cold and wet it had been. 

Their driveway, like much of the roads, had developed a thin layer of ice underneath all of the snow. She had been unaware the first morning and nearly fell onto her face when she had moved off of the steps. 

“It was hard to drive in.” He agreed softly, still sounding far away. She moved their fingers together slowly, hoping that her touch would draw him in closer. Billy sighed softly, shifting his back against the wall. Kim bit her lip, trying to continue on so she could draw him away from his thoughts. 

“Max had us make that snowman, remember?” She smiled softly as she thought of the memory, “We made him a lifeguard.” She nudged him softly, watching the way his leg moved lifelessly towards her again. She sighed softly, moving closer towards him. His eyes moved towards hers slowly, the thick storm clouds looking as if they were disappearing. 

“You got mad because you kept messing up your snow angel,” He cracked a grin before he stopped. He brought his hand up towards his lip, wincing softly, “The snow ice cream was good.” She felt bad for a moment as she squeezed his hand softly. She found herself grinning, thinking of how frustrated she had been when she was unable to make it. Billy and Max kept telling her that she had been moving her arms and legs too close together, but she was too stubborn to listen to them. 

“Probably not sanitary,” She said after a moment, thinking of how they had mixed snow together with milk and sugar, “I don’t know what I can do to help, but I’ll do whatever it takes. I’m here for you.” She added softly. Billy blinked as he looked at her for a long moment. He exhaled shakily and dragged his tongue along the curve of his cheek. She waited, wondering if she had said too much. 

“I hate how he makes me feel,” Billy said at last, tears forming in his eyes, “I want to hate him but I can’t. This whole time, he’s never left me. He had to care about me.” He sounded desperate, like he was clinging to whatever care Neil had given him. Kim stared, her eyesight beginning to appear blurry as she smothered her own thoughts. She knew that this wasn’t about her right now. 

She felt terrible for Billy. At least when her dad left, she still had her mom. Susan wasn’t the best parent, but she wasn’t like Neil. She never hit them. Even with her dad leaving, he wasn’t completely absent. She had no idea what it must feel like to be completely alone and to think that there must be something wrong with you because everyone left. Kim hoped he wouldn’t blame himself for what had just happened with Neil. She hoped that Billy knew that Kim was leaving for an entirely different reason, something that wasn’t Billy’s fault. 

“I’m sure he did,” She tried to encourage him, thinking of the complicated relationship he had with his father, “He was angry, but he deserved what he got. He should have never hit you or anyone else. It’s going to be okay now.” She tried to reassure him, hoping that she wouldn’t say anything to offend him. Kim didn’t mention it, but she hoped that Neil was locked away for a long time. 

“They’re going to arrest him.” Billy muttered underneath his breath, like it would somehow be his fault. Kim squeezed his large hand gently and rubbed her fingers along the lines on his palm. She turned his hand over gently, looking at the bruised and rough skin with worry. She glanced up towards him again, wishing she could take all of his negative thoughts away. 

“Yeah,” She confirmed softly, not wanting to upset him anymore, “They are. Things will be different, but you’ll get through it.” She promised him, knowing that she would be there for him. He exhaled softly as he rested his head back against the wall. 

“I’m not sure I know how to do it alone.” He said at last as he stared straight ahead. She frowned as she moved closer to him, feeling as if he had forgotten everything she had ever told him. She pushed his blonde, sweaty curls from his forehead before she tilted his chin towards her. She waited until his mournful eyes found hers until she spoke again. 

“You’re not alone,” She told him seriously, “You’re stuck with me.” She felt her lips curling into a soft smile as she spoke. She squeezed his face softly before she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his strong cheekbone. His body moved towards her, melting against her touch as she caressed the side of his face. 

“How could I forget?” He cracked a small grin, careful not to hurt his lip this time. She nodded her head before she placed a kiss against the corner of his mouth, her lips lingering for a moment before she pulled away from him. He watched her, his blue eyes softening as he looked over her features for a moment. She stared at his bruised skin, feeling terrible for everything that had happened. 

“So,” She smiled softly, looking at the object that was resting in front of the couch. She moved forward to retrieve it, staring at the way the sun gleamed off of the shiny material,” This was your grandfather’s ring?” She turned to look at him again, feeling her heart pittering roughly inside of her chest. She couldn’t believe he had given her something so special so long before he admitted any feelings towards her. 

“Yeah, my grandma got it for him,” Billy looked at the way she slipped the too large ring onto one of her fingers, “I think that’s the only reason my dad kept it.” He said, bearing a soft glint in his eyes at the mention of his grandmother. Kim twisted it around her finger again, thinking to herself. 

“He gave it to you?” She asked softly, thinking about how Neil had helped gift him his car. She wondered what other expensive things Neil had given him. Her mind drifted for a moment, fearing how Neil would try to work his way back into Billy’s life now. 

“After my grandma died,” Billy shrugged his shoulders, “I never really knew my grandpa. He died when I was really young. My dad would just talk about how terrible he was. He said I had things a lot easier.” Billy admitted as he pulled his knees up into the air. He rubbed his large hands down his legs, looking a bit distant as he thought again. She felt at a loss for words. 

“Oh.” She said at last, wondering what terrible things Neil must’ve gone through. She shook away those thoughts, suddenly not caring too much. Billy hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve that anger. She suddenly felt bitter again. 

“Come on,” He tapped her leg softly, “There’s no point in dwelling on it. Let’s pack.” He added as he pushed himself up off the floor with his hands. He glanced down at her before he gently took her hands and helped her up. She tugged the blanket closer to her as she glanced around the room, still feeling a bit exposed as if there was someone else in the room. 

“Shouldn’t we call the cops?” She frowned, noticing the way he was hesitating, “Billy?” She faced him, feeling a bit of worry eating inside of her stomach. She thought that calling the cops seemed to be the best solution. She didn’t want Neil to get away. She feared that if he did, she’d always be wondering when he’d show back up. Billy rubbed the back of his neck as he walked into her room. She followed after him, watching as he handed her a shirt from her closet. She took it slowly, beginning to discard the ruined material before she put on the clean shirt. She glanced behind her again, just to be sure that no one else was lingering. 

“I don’t think we need to,” He admitted, “It’s a small town and everyone is looking for him. I doubt that he will get far.” He told her seriously, sounding a bit withdrawn. He looked complicated, like he couldn’t understand his own feelings. She was sure he was going through a lot at the moment. 

“I’m sorry.” She said at last, but was unsure if she really meant it. She was glad that Neil would get caught. She was sorry that it would further complicate his thoughts and feelings. Kim hoped that maybe it would help him move on from his bad relationship with his father. She thought it might be good that Billy got away from Neil for some time.

“Don’t be,” Billy pulled the duffel bag down from the top part of her closet, “He dug his own grave.” He shrugged his shoulders, but she could tell that he was still bothered by everything that had happened. She moved closer to him, wishing there was a way to take away his pain. 

“What do we do with the pictures?” She asked softly, fearing that they may fall into her mother’s hands this time. She began to pull out some of her outfits, wondering how much she’d need to pack. She wondered if they would come back here after Neil was locked up, or if they would go someplace else. She wasn’t sure about the answer. 

“Find a better hiding spot,” He grinned towards her, wincing again, “Unless you want to burn them?” He asked her. She found herself grinning at the thought, thinking that he was teasing. She turned towards him, realizing that he was being serious. She shook her head, not wanting to lose the memories that they had. 

“No,” She dismissed that idea quickly, “We can hide them. I think I deserve one of my own though.” She added softly, brushing her shoulder against his. He chuckled, pushing her hair from her face. He looked over her face again, his eyes lingering against where Neil had smacked her. She was too afraid to look in the mirror. 

“You have one.” He chuckled, brushing her claim away. She shook her head, not meaning the ones she had of them smiling together. She wanted her own dirty one, the same way Billy had dirty ones of her. 

“I meant,” She drew out slowly as she wrapped her arms around his thick chest. She winced, not liking the tightness that was growing in her shoulders from how roughly Neil had shaken her, “My own sexual one.” She added softly, feeling a warmth spread through her cheeks and chest. 

“Pervert,” Billy grinned at her, “I’ll get you a picture.” He dismissed her as he placed a kiss on the top of her head. He lingered in the doorway, glancing towards his room then back towards her. He looked like he didn’t want to leave her alone. She didn’t want him to leave either. She continued to pack as she glanced towards him again. 

“My mom is going to freak out.” She said softly as she pressed her two cow stuffed animals into her bag. A grin formed on his lips as he watched her actions, looking quite pleased with himself. She smiled back, unable to leave her favorite stuffed animals behind. 

“It’s fine,” Billy pushed his hair from his face as she finished the last of her bags. She figured she wouldn’t need much and that they could always come back and get what they needed, “We don’t have to tell her everything.” He said softly. She nodded her head as she zipped up her bag. 

“She’s going to find out.” She said at last. She rubbed her fingers across the strap of her bag, thinking soft to herself. Billy walked towards her again, his fingers lightly pressing against her chin before he made her look towards him. She blinked, glad that the stoic look on his features was far away. 

“One day,” He added to her sentence quickly, “It doesn’t have to be today. We can decide when.” She suddenly felt guilty for nearly spilling her guts to Susan the other day. He was right, this should be something that they decide together. She wouldn’t let it happen again. She nodded her head in agreement before she picked her bag up.

“We just need to be careful then,” She said softly, “Really careful. I don’t think she’s going to be in the best mind set after this.” She added at last, thinking about why her mother hadn’t wanted to leave in the first place. Susan feared she’d be a single mother again and that’s exactly where she had wound up. 

“Why?” Billy furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at her confused. She linked their fingers together, squeezing softly as he rubbed soft circles into her chin. She found another smile forming on her lips, pleased from the sensation that was traveling through her body.

“She’ll be alone again. Only this time she’ll have a hard time working with one arm. I just worry she’ll go back to doing other stuff.” She thought of what Neil had accused her of doing. She bit her lip, not wanting Susan to feel that low again. Her mother had made mistakes too, but Kim still cared for her. She hoped that this could be Susan’s turning point, that everything after this would be better. 

“I can help with money,” Billy reminded her softly, “I wouldn’t ever let anything happen to you.” He stared at her bruising cheek, his thumb gently rubbing against her sore skin. She felt her heart pattering at his words.

“I know,” She told him honestly, “I won’t let anything happen to you either.” She gently took his wrist in her hands as she pressed her lips against his thumb gently. He smiled at the sensation before she pulled away, knowing that they needed to begin packing before Susan got too worried. She wasn’t sure how they would explain what had happened to them. 

////////////

Kim worked on packing Susan and Max’s things while Billy rummaged through his objects. Kim was partially surprised that he was agreeing to go at all. She had slightly been worried that he would refuse to go with her again. She was prepared to fight with him had he decided to argue with her about it. She wasn’t going to leave him alone.

“I think that’s it,” She pressed another bag down onto the floor as a pile began to form, “What are you doing?” She looked over at him curiously, furrowing her eyebrows together as he emerged from her room again. He grinned.

“You don’t think this is a necessity?” He held up the green lingerie, smirking playfully as he looked back at the material. She gaped, reaching forward to pull it out of his hands. He chuckled, looking amused at the way her face flushed.

“Don’t snoop through my things,” She chastised him playfully, “That was hidden away for a reason.” She held it towards her chest, like she could wipe the image of it from his mind. He grinned, rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip. He paused as he hit the scab that was forming.

“It was in your bag,” He told her softly, “You should’ve worn it.” He pulled her hands towards his chest before he placed a soft kiss against her lips. She breathed in softly as his scab rubbed against her lip. She bit her lip as she slid past him and placed the lingerie back into her drawer. She closed it gently, wondering if this would be the last time they’d be in this house. She suddenly didn’t like the idea of change. She wondered where they would go, if they would stay here. 

“Kim?” He drew her from her thoughts again as he entered the room behind her. She watched, taking a second to look at how fast his face had bruised. The swelling didn’t look quite as bad anymore, but it still left her with a sickening feeling. She wondered how he felt, now that he had stepped up to his father. 

“Yeah?” She asked softly, turning to face him. He had an amused glint in his eyes as he looked towards her again. She found her eyebrows furrowing together again, unsure of what he was going to ask her. He clenched his fingers together slowly. 

“If we share a room, you have to promise me something?” He sounded more serious this time, however, she could still see the way the corner of his lips were beginning to form up into a smile. As if he was hiding a secret of his own. She paused, holding her hands on her waist before she answered him again. 

“Of course,” She told him seriously, her heart throbbing at the idea of them sharing a room together, “What is it?” She tilted her head as she waited for his answer. She wondered if she had done something wrong, or if she snored too loud in her sleep. An amused grin spread across his lips before he took a step forward and tucked her hair behind her ears. She lingered against his touch, feeling thankful that she had someone like him in her life. She didn’t know what she would do without him. 

His blue eyes traced over her hazel ones slowly, like he was drinking in the image of her. She took a step closer to him, wanting to remind him that he didn’t have to memorize her. She was sure that there wouldn’t be a day that went by that he didn’t have her. They’d be together. Always. 

“That you’ll stop being so messy.”