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[wintrrrsoldier]

⚔️ I really don't think now's the best time ⚔️

Azriel x Reader

summary: battlefields are really not the right place for important revelations.

notes: like I said, this is totally inspired by that iconic scene in Pirates of the Carribeans. there's a shit ton of fighting involved, so prepare for graphics. if you want to go all in, listen to this specific part of the soundtrack over and over again and the vibes will be immaculate. now go and have fun, kids.

______________________________________________________________

The middle of a battlefield was arguably the worst place for any kind of not remotely expected revelation.

“Why,”, gritting my teeth, I swung my swords and neatly decapitated the huge, wolf-like beast, “do they,”, dodging a blow, I dropped to my knees, whirling through the mud and slicing open another one's belly, “keep,”, I slid to my feet and finished in an angry, “coming?!”

Slashing my sword across a soldier's throat, I turned around. A gust of wind sent a splatter of rain right into my face, strands of soaked hair clinging to my cheeks as I breathed heavily, my gaze darting over the world going to shit around me, my heart rising in my chest as I tried to catch a glimpse at the familiar sight of blue blazing siphons and leathally flowing shadows.

The battlefield was complete and utter chaos. The heavy rain that had set in only shortly after the begin of the battle had turned the land into one huge muddy puddle, dirt splashing and covering allies and enemies alike. Our defenses seemed to be close to being overrun. In the sky, only a few Illyrians were left fighting alongside Gwyn, the only Valkyrie on the northern flank, up against gryphons with talons like iron and bloodred eyes. The rest of the Illyrians had taken to the ground, now fighting side by side with the Fae warriors left on foot, but more enemies seemed to just come flooding from north, like a never ending stream of monstrous beasts and soldiers armed to the teeth.

Something churned in my chest, and I had to fight the surge of dread rising in my chest.

Unless Feyre turned up with reinforcements soon, we were screwed.

There was a call of my name, deep and thundering over the sound of battle, and when I slashed my swords over one of the beast's throat and raised my head, my heart tilted in a wild flutter.

Azriel kicked a soldier back before turning to look at me over his shoulder. His dark hair was soaked by the rain, mud sprinkled over his armor, the sword in his hand and Truthteller in his other gleaming with blood. His eyes looked wild, but something flashed through them for nothing more than a second when they found mine.

“I need to tell you something!” His deep voice reverberated over the battlefield.

I sent a soldier flying with a kick to the chest and caught another's blade with my crossed ones, yelling back: “I'm a little busy at the moment!”

Slicing my swords down, I dropped to my knees, sliding over the muddy ground and taking down a row of soldiers with blades to their legs before coming back to my feet, and my breath hitched, my heart falling out of rhythm when Azriel appeared right in front of me from a cloud of shadows, wet hair curling and mud and blood spattered over his face as his eyes darted over my face, wild and almost desperate.

“It can't wait!”, he called.

Breathing heavily, I stared up at him through the rain pelting down, feeling the ache of my sore body wash over me now that I wasn't moving, and my brows furrowed as concern tightened my chest; because I had never seen him so blatantly unguarded and expressive, emotions practically swirling in his eyes.

“What –“

Azriel pushed me back, and I whirled around, deflecting a blow of a soldier coming at me as the shadowsinger rammed his daggers into another one's chest in the place I had just stood, rain running over his face and shadows rising, wrapping around a third soldier's throat.

“I really don't think now´s the best time!”, I yelled, the slight absurdity of Azriel of all people deciding he needed to talk in the middle of a battlefield making my voice dip almost comically.

"This might be the only time!” Azriel's deep voice vibrated over my skin, his rough shout audible even over the roar of the rain and the clashing of weapons, and I whirled around, sword flying down on a soldier´s neck and sending blood spattering.

A hand closed around my biceps and pulled me back, then I was spun around, and my heart skipped into my throat when Azriel's chest pressed into mine and he dipped his head, his eyes flying over my face as streams of rain ran over his own, and something like desperation flashed through them when he called over the war cries and clashing of weapons: “I –“

His eyes darted up as my instincts flared in warning, and we moved at the same time, his shadows throwing up a wall against a wave of ash arrows as I slid past him and Threw one of my swords at the beast, huge and bear-like, flying at us. The weapon sank into its side, causing it to crash onto the ground, and I whirled around and rammed my other sword into its throat.

“I need you to know –“ Azriel broke off again, dodging a sword and gutting the belonging soldier in one smooth movement, and I landed a kick on another soldier's back.

“Are you sure this can'´t wait?!”, I yelled back, diving to avoid a blow to the head and rolling off over my shoulder, sliding through the mud and baring my teeth at a beast that growled back before jumping at me, and I dipped and slit it's throat.

Azriel stabbed his daggers into another wolf-like monster, siphons blazing as he beat his wings and a wave of shadows rolled away, drowning a row of soldiers as he turned, and something staggered in my chest at the sight of him, shadows shrouding his tall, lean body and curling around his shoulders, even broader under his black armor as a flash of lightning illuminated his face.

Even caked in dirt and blood, drenched by the heavy rain as drops of water ran from his hair over his cheekbones, he was utterly and annoyingly beautiful.

“Yes!”, he called back, and I whirled around, swords slashing and reflecting another strike of lightning as thunder rolled and I knocked a soldier to the ground. “I need you to know tha–“

There was a snarl, and I dove out of the way, rolling through the mud as a beast crashed into the spot I had been in a mere heartbeat before. I slammed my swords down into its back with an angry sound, then I raised my head, my heart thrumming and adrenaline rushing through my veines, and my eyes met golden ones, desperate and wild and only hesitant for a second before the chaos vanished, replaced by something else, something deep and worldshaking. Then Azriel's deep voice rumbled over the noise of the battle.

“I love you!”

The world fell still for a moment. Became quiet and stagnant as my heart did one mighty leap.

Then time fell back into place, something staggered in my chest, and my eyes grew wide.

“What?!”

Somehow, I dodged the next blow, parrying another and directing it to the side as I slid my other blade over the soldier's throat, ramming my shoulder into his chest to push him back before turning around wide eyed, and my gaze met another, shining like amber in sunlight.

“You –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made me duck, and I swerved, dropping to my knees and sliding over the muddy ground. Ramming my swords into two soldier's lower regions, I pulled them out and used the momentum to push myself to my feet. Then I whirled around and yelled, disbelief and sheer shock making my voice rise an octave: “You what?!”

A hand closed around my wrist and pulled me forward, and I stumbled into a solid chest, my heart jumping into my throat as my head whipped up and I could feel the sensation of shadows rising behind me and heard swords dropping and a struggle. But it all felt far away, because I could feel Azriel's body press against mine and his eyes were piercing, looking wild and desperate and pained when he called over the noise of the battle, voice rough: “I love you!”

My throat closed as I opened my mouth in shock; Azriel pulled me past him, and I whirled around and parried the blows of a soldier, slicing my swords over his arms before ramming my blades into his chest, then I threw my head around, my wet hair clinging to my face, and Azriel dropped another soldier. For a second, our eyes met, mine wide and completely dumbfounded, then he dodged a blow.

“You –“ I tried to get closer to him but almost got jumped by a huge beast. Shadows wrapped around me and pulled me back, and Azriel slit a soldier's throat before looking back at me, rain running over his face and desperation flashing through his eyes as he yelled: “I had to make sure you knew!“

A war cry made me spin around, and I dodged, swerving the blow of a sword and slashing my own across the soldier's throat, blood spattering as I yelled back in almost comical disbelief: “So you're telling me now?!”

A hand wrapped around my wrist, whirling me out of a beast's reach and right into the way of a sword crashing down, my own blades catching it effortlessly. A familiar scent rose into my nose, distinct even under the smell of blood and dirt, and my heart thrummed into my throat as I pushed, my swords sinking into the soldier's chest, then I spun around, rain dripping over my skin as I stared wide eyed at the male right in front of me, so close I could hear the roughness in his voice even though he didn't shout, one corner of his lips quirking almost helplessly as his eyes dragged over my face like he wanted to ingrain it into his mind when he called hoarsely: “Better late than never.”

My heart skipped into my throat as I stared up at him, and my lips opened, but then Azriel's eyes darted up, and he pulled me out of the way, his sword catching the one of an enemy soldier.

“What –“ I gutted a gigantic wolf, widening my eyes as I threw the shadowsinger a disbelieving look. “How late is late?!” I ducked, swerving the blow of a sword and ramming my own blade into the side of the soldier's neck.

“Since the day you stayed up with me for first time!” Azriel dodged a blow. “Probably even before that.” He raised his head, and something rose in my chest when his amber eyes found mine, his voice raspy when he called lightly: “Probably from the moment I met you.” His gaze flickered over my face, and my heart skipped and tumbled at the emotion swirling inside as he added hoarsely: “It's always been you.”

My throat closed up, and I kicked a beast to the side and sliced through some soldier's necks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it's you.” Even though Azriel's voice was raised, I could still hear how unsteady it was, raw as the words tumbled from his lips as he called them over the raging battle around us. “From the day I met you, there was something about you, something that made everything wash away, that made breathing easier, everything easier! Where I didn't have to hide!” His eyes flickered over mine, chest rising and falling quickly with his heavy breaths as rain streamed over his face and his throat worked like he was trying not to swallow. “And it scares the fuck out of me, but I don't care!” His rough voice sent shivers down my spine when his amber iris found mine. “You're it.”

Something rose in my chest, fluttering so wildly it felt a little difficult to breathe.

“Why the hell did you never say anything?!”, I yelled in disbelief, and Azriel's jaw shifted as he dodged a blow, slicing the soldier's throat.

“Because I was afraid you didn't feel the same!”

“What?!” Rain pelted down at me, my soaked armor becoming heavier with every moment, but for a change, I didn't feel any of it. Breathing heavily, I stared at the godsdamned beautiful male, and my heart rose, rose until it was in my throat and the world turned into a tilt. “Of course I do!”

Azriel's head whipped up, and I kicked a soldier away and slashed his throat before turning around, feeling the words echo through me as I yelled: “I love you too!”

As the last syllable left my lips, Azriel stared. Stared as something seemed to rise in his eyes. Then darkness wrapped around him, and he appeared in front of me like formed from shadows. His amber eyes were bright with desperation and something so much deeper, it caused my breath to simply still. Caused my heart to swell and time to slow as he took one last step and slipped his arm around my waist, his scent washing over me in an intoxicating wave, his movements never faltering as he leaned down without an ounce of hesitation, and something shifted in my chest, locking into place with a soundless snap when his lips crashed onto mine in a hard, desperate kiss.

My heart pulsed once. Twice, as something bloomed under my ribs, warm and rising until it thrummed through my whole chest, pulling towards the male pressed against me, body tall and solid and unwavering, and I sucked in a soft, trembling breath.

Oh.

Slowly, Azriel broke the kiss, like he had to force himself to pull back, his nose brushing against mine and causing my heart to miss a step. Then he slowly raised his head, and my breath hitched, gave out completely for a second when I caught the way his iris shifted like amber in golden sunlight, lips parted and gaze piercing mine.

There was a war cry behind me, and Azriel's eyes snapped up, sharpening.

My heart flew, and my instincts kicked in.

Azriel pulled me out of the way with a growl, and I whirled around, swords clashing with two others, blocking blows as I dropped to my knees and turned, and the blades found their home in the soldier's stomachs. Pulling them out, I raised my head, and my throat closed up when I saw our lines slowly beginning to unravel as the steady stream of beasts and soldiers didn´t seem to waver.

My gaze found Azriel, in a cloud of shadows, teeth bared in a snarl and blades flashing in a clash of lightning, rain pelting onto his shoulders, and that feeling in my chest rose until I was sure it had to be visible, like a golden light thrumming under my ribs.

“Azriel!”, I shouted desperately, and he slammed the hilt of his sword onto an enemy soldier's head before turning around, amber eyes finding mine.

My heart tightened almost violently, and before I could stop myself, before even really thinking, I called, my voice a little weak: “Marry me?”

Azriel froze. Stilled on the spot as shadows swirled around him, catching ash arrows and knocking out soldiers, his eyes piercing mine as emotions swirled through them like the storm above.

And suddenly I knew he felt it. Maybe not yet that the bond was vibrating in my chest, thrumming in synch with my racing heart. But that he knew.

Azriel blinked against the rain pouring over his face, and I could see how he suppressed the urge to swallow. Then he shouted, his deep voice causing my breath to flutter: “Gwyn!”

My breath hitched, and Azriel's eyes pierced mine, golden and bare and burning as he yelled: “Marry us!”

“I'm a little occupied right now!”, Gwyn shouted from high above us, cursing as her winged horse barely managed to swerve around a gryphon.

A soldier came at me, and I dodged his blows, sliding my sword over his chest.

“Gwyn!”, I yelled, my voice breaking, and somehow, she must've heard it over the noise and chaos, because she yelled back, only halfheartedly annoyed: “Fine! If I fall, it's your fault!”

I landed a kick on the soldier's chest and sent him backwards, then I turned around, and Azriel was there, his hand wrapping tightly around my wrist as he pulled me forward until we were chest to chest, and that golden thrum in my chest soared at the way his eyes pierced mine.

“Dearly beloved,”, Gwyn yelled over the roar of thunder, “we've gathered here today to pull every single one of your feathers, you miserable excuse of a chicken!”

There was an irritated screech followed by a scuffle high over our heads, and Azriel pushed me back as two enemy soldiers came at us with swords drawn. Swinging around, I sent my blade down onto the right one's hand, severing it cleanly, and as he screamed, I shoved my sword into his chest.

Azriel called my name, and when my head whipped around, his hand closed around mine, pulling me out of the way of a beast and with my back into his chest, his deep voice rumbling through my body when he shouted over the rain: “Do you take me,”, I kicked out and the beast yelped, “to be your husband?”

Slashing my sword over the beast's snout, a laugh bubbled in my chest when Azriel spun me around, and my heart rose in my chest when I stared up at him, feeling pressure build in my throat as his eyes darted over my face, almost like he was expecting me to change my mind, pull back -

“I do!”

Azriel blinked, and his eyes brightened, became as radiant as amber held into the evening sun. Something shifted in my chest when a smile spread over his face, widening with every second, until creases formed in his cheeks and crinkles around his eyes, and I had to physically fight to keep myself from burying my fingers in his messy hair and pull him in to kiss him.

There was a war cry from our left, and I widened my eyes and jumped back, feeling the a blade whizz down where I had been standing just seconds before, and Azriel growled, wings flaring and sending out a wave of shadows that took down the row of soldiers behind him as I parried the next blow and slammed the soldier to the ground.

Whirling around, I grabbed Azriel's outstretched hand and yelled: “Do you take me,”, I ducked under his arm and blocked a blow, “to be your wife?” Azriel pulled me back, parrying the next as I stabbed my sword into another soldier's stomach. “On the good days and the bad; though,”, smoothly slicing the soldier's throat, I growled, “we might not see a lot more!”

Azriel's grip tightened, and he twirled me around, pulling me out of the way of another soldier, and my heart fluttered violently when my chest pressed into his and that golden feeling thrummed when Azriel nodded, eyes darting over my face and deep voice hoarse when he called over the rain: “I do!”

My breath hitched and heart fluttered, the feeling in my chest rising, and above us, Gwen yelled: “Then hereby, you may be bound! Bound by soul, bound by heart, bound to one!”

There was a flare of heat in the middle of my chest, and my breath hitched when Azriel's grip tightened like he felt it too; the burning of a tattoo appearing on his skin, the sign of the vows made visible in ink.

Gwyn's voice echoed through the skies when she yelled: “You now may –“

Movement at the corner of my eye made Azriel and me dart apart.

“You now –“

I dodged a blow, Azriel's hand closing around mine and spinning me around to parry another as his sword clashed with a third.

“You may kiss the –“

Thunder struck, I ducked under a beast's claw, then Gwyn shouted in frustration: “Godsdamnit, just kiss her!”

My heart surged and skipped; Azriel pulled me around, and his arm wrapped around my waist as mine slipped over his shoulder, I could feel him dipping me back lightly as he leaned down, then he kissed me.

Kissed me as rain poured down our faces, my free hand slipping up to cradle the side of his neck and my breath hitching as I kissed back, deep and desperate, and a hoarse sound rumbled in Azriel's throat as he tightened his grip around me, kissing me like it was the first and last time.

The sound of a horn ripped me back into reality, reminding me that the world was close to ending.

Azriel pulled me back up onto my feet, breaking the kiss, and I was thankful that he was just as out of breath as I was, could feel his heart pounding just as quickly. Then he raised his head, and when I looked over my shoulder, my heart skipped high as relief so kneebuckling washed over me, I was glad Az was still holding me.

The cavalry had arrived.

“Come on, you two!”, Gwyn yelled somewhere above us, sounding gleeful. “Let's finish this!”

I raised my head, and Azriel's arm slipped away from my waist, amber eyes finding mine. For a second, I could see something flash through his gaze, like he expected me to pull back, suddenly regret this.

But I just sent him a wide, wicked smile.

“Shall we?”

~

It was still raining, but the storm had moved on. In the west, the clouds were breaking up, allowing the light of the sinking sun to flood over the lowlands, making the light rain shimmer as a rainbow spanned across the sky.

Breathing in deeply, I tipped my head back and closed my eyes as I felt the rain drizzle onto my face and body, washing away the smell of blood from the air and only leaving the scent of wet grass and moss to fill my nose with every slow inhale.

Feyre's arrival with the reinforcements had turned the tide, every last warrior gathering all their remaining strength. Still, there had been many losses, even after our victory, and wandering through the bloody mud, paying respect to the fallen, had caused a weight to rest on my chest, one that could not even be brushed away by the knowledge that my friends, my family was alive; exhausted and strained and with quite a few scratches, but alive.

Which was why I was standing on a hill, a little away from the tents, just listening to the patter of rain and breathing in the clean air as I felt the tension slowly melt from my muscles, leaving only exhaustion and heaviness in my limbs and a feeling of being so tired, I could have fallen asleep on the spot.

I felt him before I heard the call of my name, the feeling in my chest that had shrunk to a small, warm hum pulsing and growing.

Tipping my head back down, I looked over my shoulder, and my breath hitched when Azriel came towards me.

Just like me, he was still in his armor, specks of mud and blood on his cheeks, hair damp and curling like he had attempted to dry it and then got distracted. His dark brows were drawn together as his golden eyes pierced into mine.

“What are you doing?”, he called, his low, deep voice sending pleasant shivers down my spine.

He looked so close to his usual scowl, I felt my heart rise and skip as my lips curved up.

“Cleansing,”, I called back, and Azriel huffed, but it almost looked like he was fighting to keep his lips from twitching as he crossed the last bit of distance.

Turning around, I squinted up at him through the drizzle of rain, the thrumming thing in my chest soaring at the sight of him.

Godsdamned beautiful.

Up close, I could see the signs of exhaustion. His shadows were lazily swirling around his feet, his wings were drooping so much they almost grazed the ground, and his eyes were tired. But something sparked in them when they moved over my face, my heart skipping when I could feel his warm breath brush over my forehead.

“You know we have this ingenius invention for that? It's called a shower.” His voice was so dry, my heart skipped, and a smile slowly spread over my face, wide and bright and freeing in a way that caused something to stagger in my chest.

Azriel´s eyes narrowed in, and his shoulders seemed to sag a little.

“I know.” Squinting up at him, I felt my smile grow smaller as I shrugged softly, something tightening gently in my chest.

Azriel's gaze flickered over my face. Then he blinked, and my heart fluttered into my throat when he reached out, gently pushing a wet strand of hair out of my face. His fingers, out of his gloves, brushed over my skin, warm and rough, and my breath hitched, a shudder running over my spine.

One corner of Azriel's lips curved, and that thing in my chest pulsed and thrummed at the way his golden eyes started to shine.

The shadowsinger dipped his head, and my heart skipped and jumped when his lips brushed over mine. Then his thumb and forefinger gently closed around my chin, and Azriel tilted my head back to kiss me, deep and slow until I sank into his chest, my knees simply too tired to keep up with the way all of him made the world spin. My fingers curled into his sides, and Azriel´s other hand rose to move to the back of my neck, gently tangling in my hair, and his thumb brushed over my skin until a soft sound broke from the back of my throat and my whole body shuddered.

Azriel's lips curved up against mine. Then he slowly pulled back, and my heart skipped when I saw his eyes, lids heavy and iris hazed over, the only thing betraying him; showing that I had more than the same effect on him that he had on me.

The thought made something rise and flutter in my stomach.

I blinked. Then I furrowed my brows and mumbled: “Crap.”

Azriel's gaze cleared a little, brows drawing together, and his hand slipped down to rest against the side of my neck. “What?”

I stared past him into nothing.

“I just realised we have to explain to Rhys and Cass that we got married without them.”

[wintrrrsoldier]

does someone know where i can find an azriel x reader fic in which they’re mid battle and want to get married because they don’t know how everything is going to end. i think they get gwyneth to marry them mid battle or something like that but it was super cute! if someone could help me find it please??!!

[wintrrrsoldier]

Eddie from Chili’s Pt 3

Waiter!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: After weeks of talking and texting, the stars (and schedules) finally align and it’s finally date night. Buckle up, baby. 💖

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mature language, slight angst, reader is nervous af but so is Eddie, allusions to smut, innuendos, weed smoking, lots of kissing and fluff!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie wasn’t a stranger to romance, by any means. He’d taken quite a few girls out on successful evening adventures and had done (close to) it all— dinners, movies, picnics, carnivals, festivals, concerts, rock climbing, you name it. He took pride in his creative ideas, most of them ending very well with a sleepover or quickie in the car with promises of second or third dates.

But no matter the passion and intensity that fueled their date, one of three things always happened; it would fizzle out, there’d be no real connection, or they couldn’t handle his schedule.

Eddie seemed to attract the girls that always wanted an adventure, the kind that wanted a fairy tale romance with extravagance and constant attention, which aren’t bad things to want, necessarily, he just wasn’t equipped for it.

So tonight, as he searched his closet for something to wear, he doubted his plan for the hundredth time.

You didn’t seem like one of those girls. Based off his impressions of you, you’d like to be cozy at home with a good book or a movie to watch. But if he’d asked you to spend the evening at his place to do just that, you’d probably get the wrong idea.

He sighed and dragged his hands down his face, sitting down on his unmade bed with shirts and pants thrown haphazardly around the room. “Dak!” He called through his hands. “DAAAAK” he cried until his door flew open with urgency.

“What?!” His older brother asked.

“Help me.”

“What?” He deadpanned.

“Help me.” He sat up and dropped his hands, his state somber as he help up two shirts.

“You’re not serious.” Dakota looked him over. “You’re not actually nervous right now, are you?”

“Sadly, I am deeply serious.” He shook his head at himself, in disbelief and almost disgust, “And that’s why I can’t dress myself right now.”

“Look at me, man.” Dakota crossed the room and put his hands on Eddie’s tattooed shoulders. “That girl has got it so bad for you already.” Despite his brothers assurance, Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m serious!”

Eddie swatted away his brothers hands and walked over to the closet again, “Every time you look at your phone, you’re smiling.” Dak added.

“Not every time—“

“Every time it’s her, dumbass.” Dak rolled his eyes.

“So what?” Eddie grabbed yet another black band tee from the closet to look over.

“So! You act like you’re already in a relationship.”

Eddie scoffed, “How??”

“You haven’t been working your tables like you do!” Dak accused, and was already prepared with another reason before Eddie could roll his eyes one more time. “Those girls at brunch today! Two of them were making major eyes at you, one of them touched you and left a number and you didn’t do a thing!”

Eddie scoffed.

“—and I know you’re going out on the balcony at night to talk to her!” Dakota said with a smile, watching Eddie’s blush bloom.

“No, I just happen to be smoking when we decide to talk on the phone.” He shrugged and pulled the shirt over his head. “Thanks for nothing.” He pulled on his jacket and looked in the mirror.

Dakota rolled his dark eyes this time and sat on the bed, “Every night?”

“What? It’s not every night.”

“For the last two weeks, almost!” Dakota recalled quickly.

Eddie froze. It had been three weeks since you’d come back to the restaurant. Only three weeks had passed since he got your number and kissed you, actually kissed you. Since you’d started texting, the conversation hadn’t stopped.

You’d been great over the phone, your shyness only indicated by how long you took to type out a response, which he found very endearing, still. Your conversations ranged from the day to day of your work lives to why your favorite songs are your favorites, and who introduced you to your favorite snack and how you always have a bag in the cabinet. How certain books make you sit it down to take a breath and calm down and how you feel fictional things too viscerally sometimes.

Eddie loved that his phone was never dry anymore, finding himself lingering on every text bubble that bounced in wait for the next question you’d have for him. Girls seemed to ask the same questions, about his tastes and his history, but never why he still watches his favorite cartoon every night before bed or why he wears his moms rings on his right hand and not his left.

He hadn’t experienced this kind of infatuation before, so he tried not to count too much on it lasting—but it did.

“I like her! That’s not a secret!” Eddie says, sitting next to him to tie his shoes. Dakota smiles and looks down at Eddie’s glowing screen.

A notification from Snapchat with your name popped up, Dakota’s eyes going wide, “And you have her on snap?”

You’d added each other on snapchat before a week had passed, Eddie asking if you had one because he wanted to see your pretty face. You were thankful to not have to be the one to ask because you wondered about the same thing, he had the personality for it though, like he’d thrive on it or avoid it completely.

But Eddie liked snapchat. It wasn’t public, and his circle of friends were the only people he had on it. And now you were apart of that, too.

You loved watching his stories, the shenanigans he got up to at work and home were updated almost regularly. You’d seen him practice with his band, smoke in his car singing to music you’ve never heard, make drinks and salads at work with his hours in the caption and an invitation for his friends to “come see me, fuckers!!!!”

“My point is, little brother—

“Fuck offff—“

“—C’mon let me do my job.” Dakota looks at him pointedly. Eddie nods for him to continue. “No matter what you do tonight, she’s gonna have a great time. Cause it’s with you. And you guys already have a connection! I don’t recall you talking to anyone this much before a date.”

Eddie sighed and nodded. “You’re right.” He fought a smile by picking up his phone and opening the picture you took in a mirror.

‘Is this suitable? No scuba gear needed?’

Eddie chuckled to himself before he looked over your outfit in the frame and swallowed hard. You wore a fitted black skirt with a black knotted graphic tee, your legs covered by black sheer hose and black docs on your feet. You held a denim jacket in your hand and your hair was done the same way he’d seen it last.

He was thankful for the lack of time limit on the message, tempted to save it forever.

“My point proven.” Dakota stood and waved to the phone. Eddie groaned with a smile that Dakota returned.

“Stick to your plan, Ed, it’s a good one!” He called as he treaded down the hall, off to prepare for his own company tonight.

Eddie looked back down at the picture, at your lined eyes and glossed lips. He sighed and took a screenshot.

He flopped backwards on the bed, his arms flailed out and eyes closed before he had the idea to snap a picture of himself and draw x’s over his eyes.

‘So gorgeous you knocked me dead.’

He wanted to roll his eyes at himself, but he couldn’t because he had it on good authority it would make you smile.

And it absolutely did.

You fell into your couch, clutching your phone at the sight of him. His curls were perfect and his tattoos peeked out of the collar of his shirt. You groaned to yourself in agony—how dare he be so hot!!!

And funny!!!

He was always sending you something to make you smile—‘Avaca—don’t fuck with me” being one of your favorites he’d sent as he munched on chips and guac over his break one day.

But this one sent butterflies rushing through you, and they only multiplied when you saw he saved your picture.

You check the time, Eddie due to pick you up at 6:30.

It was 6:27, and as you get up to spritz some perfume, you hear a knock at your door. Your heart leapt, how long had you been sitting there looking at his face??

You grab your purse and shrug on your jacket as you run to open the door.

In the hallway he stood, 6’2” in boots that matched yours. “Hey, sweet girl!” His smile brightened as he greeted you, his heart quickening in delight when you threw your arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to bend down and hug you back. “I missed you.” He found himself saying into your hair.

“I missed you too.” You smile over his shoulder as his large hand rubbed your back.

He pulled back from the hug to let you lock your door and immediately offered his arm, “Right this way, milady.”

You chuckle and hook your arm through his. “So can you tell me where we’re going now?” You ask as you come to the elevator and he pushes the button. You’d brought it up a couple times in the weeks you’d been texting, determined to get a clue no matter how big or small.

But alas, Eddie was proving to be a good secret keeper.

He tsked and shook his head, “Nice try, sweetheart. But each location is highly classified and I’m not at liberty to divulge that kind of information.” The doors opened and he gestured for you to step inside first.

“But you literally are.” You say as he pushes the button for the bottom floor. He looks at you with mischief in his eye, one that sends your gaze downward and your cheeks blushing.

“Hey,” he says softly. You look up and find him closer, his hand landing on your shoulder, “No shy stuff tonight, okay?” He says gently. Not a demand, but an encouragement. “I want you to be comfortable with me.”

You nod at him.

“Yeah?” He asks in confirmation, to which you nod again. He takes your hand as the doors open and leads you outside to his car.

You should’ve known he’d drive a shiny blacked out camaro, the windows tinted darker than you thought legal. Eddie looked proud as he watched you take in his pride and joy he had detailed at his second job special for tonight.

You got to the door before he could, the man mentally scolding himself as he watched you buckle up while he climbed in and shut the door. He marked how pretty you looked sitting in his car, like that seat had been waiting for you.

Your skirt stretched deliciously over your thighs and rode up in the back as you settled, your fingers sat intertwined in your lap and picking at a hangnail absentmindedly as he starts the car, his music kicking on and the air conditioning blowing his air freshener through the vents, smelling like him.

“You sure you’re comfortable?” He asked, spying your hand and slipping his fingers between yours. Your hand relaxes into his and you give him a squeeze and nod, “Yeah!” You say, “I’m sure. Thank you.” You nod again.

Eddie narrows his eyes playfully, as do you with a poorly repressed smile. “You sure…” he says with suspicion in his tone.

You nod again with a soft smile, “Yeah.”

“…Can I have a kiss to prove it?” He asked, smiling when he saw you practically melt, your eyes dipping to his lips before you nodded and leaned toward him. “Thanks—” He mumbles before cupping your face and tilting you up to meet his lips for an innocent lingering peck. He pulled back and smiled at you when you noticed yours stayed closed for a few moments longer than his.

“Thank you.” You finally manage as he gently releases your cheek as if he didn’t want to, and chuckles at you, shifting the car into reverse and exiting the parking lot.

“Wait, locations? Plural? There’s more than one?” You ask suddenly.

“Aght! That’s all you get!” He says with warning in his tone before he takes your hand again. You giggle at his touch and he looks at you and then back at the road, “M’sorry! I just like you or something!” He says as he releases your hand and you’re quick to snatch his right back up.

“No! I think it’s cute.” You say, lacing your fingers with his and covering it with your other hand. You don’t miss how he smiles at the road, lifting your hand to his lips.

“I like affection, if you couldn’t tell.” He shrugged, his lips brushing over your skin as he spoke, and then pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

You smile at the feeling, “I thought it might be a possibility.”

“If you don’t like any of it, you’d tell me, right?” He asked.

You nod, “Yeah, I would.”

“You would?” He asks in clarification.

You nod again.

“So you like it?” He asked with a smile.

Your jaw opens and you can’t help but smile and nod again, “Yes!” You cover your eyes with your hands in embarrassment, “You just like to mess with me, don’t you?” You cross your arms and ignore your burning cheeks as you smiled at his own grin, really just taking him in after three weeks without seeing him in person.

“I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t so fun!” He remarked and patted your knee fondly.

You shake your head but say nothing back, knowing you liked it when he picked on you.

“And here we are, stop number one.” He says as he pulls into a restaurant. The building was white stucco and had two stories. There was outdoor seating with large black umbrellas for shade, and a sign sat atop the building with red neon lining the swirled letters that read, ‘LaDonna’s’

“C’mon.” He smiled, opening his door. You unbuckle and by the time you’re reaching for the handle he’s popped the door open and reached out for you. You smile as he pulls you to your feet and leads you to the door, your hand in his the whole way.

When you’re seated, a waiter bounds over with a smile set on you, “Hey guys, can I get any drinks started for you tonight?” He looked between you.

“I’ll have a coke.” Eddie said when you nodded at him to go first.

“Uh, me too.” You agree before the server hurries away.

“So… you think he’s cute?” Eddie winks at you as he shrugs off his jacket and then slides a menu to you.

“You jealous?” You chuckle and go to flip the menu over to view the entrees when he lays his hand on it to keep it flat.

“Absolutely.” He said easily, leaning forward, “Don’t tell me you have a thing for waiters.” He rolled his eyes with a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You blush and shake your head no.

“Good, cause we’re gonna see a few tonight, and I’m not prepared to take a loss like that just yet.” You shoot him a questioning look just as he taps the appetizers, “This is the section you need to pay attention to—I want you to pick one for us.”

You glance down to the section of options and back up at him, his gaze set on you with gentle intensity that has you smiling and nodding. “Okay.”

You try to relax as you scan the menu with his eyes on you, fighting the smile on your face and feeling like that pathetic thirteen year old you turned into when you first met, the words not having any meaning as you read each dish and the description.

Last time, it was the possibility of Eddie watching you read the menu and having to decide in a timely manner, that made your mind blank, and then it was his proximity as your waiter that drove you stupid, not to mention the circumstances surrounding your anxiety now.

Eddie’s knee bounced eagerly, his chain lightly jingling every so often. He twisted his ring and smiled when he caught your eyes flickering up from the table to his hands and back down again. His grin spreads and you notice, sinking in your seat and nonchalantly lifting the menu to form a wall between you and his face, the measure actually helping your ability to focus a bit.

“Aww, c’mon now, sweetheart,” he tapped at your menu shield and peeked over, “—you told me no shy stuff.” He chided and snickered as you lower your menu with a playful scowl.

“It’s not my fault I lose my ability to read when I’m nervous.” You weakly chuckle and shove your hands under your thighs, dipping your vision back to the menu, spotting the words ‘chips and’ and then ‘fried’ when he tapped the table next to the menu again.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking— do you wanna g—“

“No!” You cut him off, finding his eyes soft and full of concern for you. “No, I’m okay.” You nod assuringly.

“Well, you… want some help?” He shrugs.

You cock your head but before you can ask he explains, “I could read them off to you and you tell me what sounds best! Half of my job is helping people pick, anyway.” He said as he picked up your menu and acted like he was straightening out a newspaper.

“R-Really?” You ask.

He nods as if anyone would think to do that for you—you hadn’t even thought of it.

“So we got chips, queso, guac, wings?” He looked at you like he’d cracked the code, but you scrunched your nose and shook your head. “—that’s okay— cheese fries, fried mozzarella—“

“—Cheese fries?” You ask.

“Yeah? You like bacon on them?” He asked brightly.

You nod, “And jalapeños, too.”

“Oof, so you like it spicy.” He said observantly, another blush painting your cheeks before he nodded at the approaching waiter and gathered the menus.

“Have we decided?” The guy asked after he set down your drinks, looking at you again.

Eddie answered, “Yeah! We’ll take a large order of cheese fries with bacon and jalapeños.” He handed the menus back and smiled at you simply while the waiter went back to the kitchen.

“So, how did that assignment turn out? That summer camp booklet thing.” He asks with a sparkle of interest in his eyes.

“The brochure?” You giggle, your cheeks heating as your heart swells at the thought of him asking about it.

You’d mentioned it one night when he FaceTimed you. He was outside on his balcony, his torso bare and covered with ink you hoped to inspect sometime soon. You noted where his shoulders dimpled and the way the city lights reflected in his eyes and hoped one day you could join him on that very same balcony, having the same kinds of talks about everything and nothing.

He nodded as he sipped and replaced his drink back on the coaster, “Yeah! Did you end up liking it? Was it what you wanted it to be?” He asked.

You smile and nod and take out your phone to show him the video you took of the finished product, an actual, cohesive, design that captured the vibes you’d felt when you’d initially received the assignment. The book was beautiful, in your opinion, and Eddie seemed to think so too as you told him about when you saw it printed and stapled you felt all giddy and lame.

“That’s not lame though, you’re proud of your work! I know I am! I remember you showed me when it was just the template and the color picker— it looks so good! Y’know I used to be fine with never going to summer camp, but now I’m jealous!”

You let out a hearty laugh and set your phone to the side along with his, “Eddie it’s not a real summer camp, I just made it up.”

“Oh.” He chuckles with a blush, “Well, you convinced me! The vintage kinda look you gave it feels very… authentic.” He nodded as he decided his final word, his assessment making your heart soar.

“Thank you, I got an A, so I guess my teacher agrees.” You shrug bashfully. “But what about you? How’s that song coming?” You ask before unwrapping a straw and plunging it in your drink.

Eddie smiles the same way you had when he asked about your project, “It’s getting there!” He said humbly, in a way that made you know he made great progress on it despite his words, “—inspiration struck fairly recently, you could say.”

You nod, “That’s great! What’s it about, again?” You ask, wondering if he’ll give you the run around again like when he’d first mentioned it.

“Well, i-it’s about a lot of stuff,” he nods, fiddling with his own straw but not yet tearing the paper off. “Like, where I come from and where I’m at and where I see myself going—what I’m looking forward to the most… etcetera etcetera.” He nodded thoughtfully.

You smile with him, “That sounds beautiful. I’d love to hear it when it’s finished.”

“Oh, I plan on you being the first to hear it.” He said with wide eyes that filled you with anticipation.

“Well I must be something special.” You tease softly.

He nods, “You must be.” He bites the inside of his lip to contain his smile, feeling like an idiot when he felt his heart speed up merely at the way you looked at him. Your eyes round and set on him like he was a dream. Your shoulders wanted to curl in on yourself, your shyness was lingering but you were peeking out from behind the curtain. And he loved what he saw.

You were smart, and despite your struggles with anxiety, you had a lot to say. He was determined to hear all of it, especially if it came out of your smiling mouth. He loved that you were figuring out how to play with him, but didn’t make it feel like a game. Eddie was used to flirty banter but nothing that made him feel like the way it felt with you.

Your shy nature really topped it off for him, your tentativeness making it that much more fun to mess with you.

He’d never forget the way you sounded on the phone when he called for the first time. Your trembling sighs were full of nerves, the phone picking up soft chuckles, and a shy lilt to your voice that clenched his heart to the point it ached.

You’d come quite a ways since then, though part of him hoped you’d always be a little shy.

The waiter brought over your heaping basket, mozzarella, sharp cheddar, Colby Jack, and American cheese all melted on the top of the extra crispy fries.

Eddie’s eyes were bright as he beheld the food, and then looked up to find you unfurling your napkin and silverware, your bottom lip in your teeth as you spear your fork into a measly section to pull onto your tiny plate.

“Oh, I should’ve known you’d be one of those.” He teased as he pulled a fry from the top, the cheese stretching an impressive distance before snapping.

“What??” You ask, welcoming his banter with pink cheeks you suspected wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

“Don’t tell me you eat fries with a fork.” He deadpanned and took a bite.

“I don’t, but when I’m sharing an appetizer with someone I try to be polite.” You jab your fork into another helping to plop onto your plate. “Thought that’s something you liked about me.” You quip before cutting into the cheese fries and sticking a bite in your mouth, your lips sliding off the fork as you hold eye contact with him.

You barely notice how his gaze dips to your mouth, how he swallows before he smiles and speaks again, “I do. There’s a lot of things I like about you.”

You shake your head as you chew and swallow, “That was an easy one.”

“What??” He asked as he grabs another clump of fries, carefully stacking a jalapeño on top and biting into it.

“You and your lines.” You roll your eyes.

He smiles though he puts a hand to his chest in offense, “You think I have lines??” He asked.

“How can you not? You always know what to say, how to… I dunno… stun me?” You shrug at your loss of words.

Eddie almost cackles and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “Stun you??”

“You know what I mean!” You take a bite, taking care to get the perfect amount of bacon and jalapeño on top before taking a large bite that made Eddie a little proud. You chew and appraise him as he does you, strong jaw working and his eyes waiting for your next sentence. “I just feel like you’re too smooth for it to be real, y’know—I keep thinking this is going to turn out to be one big joke.” You chuckle weakly and shrug.

Eddie deflated a little and reached his hand across the table, resting on top of yours that held your fork. “Sweetheart,” he sighed and you felt a pang of guilt swim around in your chest when you saw the hurt in his eyes, “I… I know what that’s like. Believe me, it’s—“ he sighed again, “—I can’t ever stop thinking about you.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m not used to a girl doing that to me, taking over my every thought.” He chuckled in disbelief, “I like you. A lot.” He assures with a nod and you mirror it, feeling bad he had to do this already.

“I’m sorry.” You drop your fork and wrap your fingers around his. He shakes his head, as if it were no bother. “I…” you take a deep inhale and slowly let it out as you talk, “—kinda have trust issues, if you couldn’t already tell.” You avoid eye contact until you hear his chuckle.

“I get it, I really do.” He nods before meeting her eye again, “But my interest in you has nothing to do with a joke and everything to do with the fact you’re interesting. And sweet. And cute. And smart— I honestly have no idea what you’re doing out with me.” He said it as if he believed it and took a bite.

You shake your head, “You’re so full of it.” You chuckle and prepare to take another bite, though the smile on your face told Eddie you were flattered and ready for more back and forth.

“It’s true! You know how many people see me coming and cross the street to avoid me?” He seemed pleased with himself and with the face you made, genuinely confused. “—Cause I look mean and scary.”

Your eyes widen, “Oh! Well, I don’t think you’re scary cause you’re mean.”

“You think I’m scary?”

“I think you’re scary cause you’re so… pretty—I mean handsome!”

Eddie lets out a laugh so hearty it turned a couple heads, but all you did was blush and smile at the reaction you were able to pull from him.

“You’re too cute—wow.” He grabs a clump of fries and takes a bite through his lingering smile. “So you wouldn’t cross the street if you saw me coming? Shy little thing like you?”

You shook your head, “Would you cross if you saw me coming?”

“If I’m across the street on 8th and caught a glimpse of you walking down 7th, I’m jay-running to come introduce myself.” He said without missing a beat, “I’d change direction just to walk with you.”

“You really can’t help it,” You laugh melodically, full and with your belly, your eyes practically closed in your amusement.

“When it comes to you? Not a bit.” He smirked as you collected yourself with a deep breath and continued eating.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“No way. I don’t believe you!” You chuckle madly as he nods.

“Oh, but, I did, I read every bit of it— and from the sound of it, you did too.” He looked at you with his bashful grin as you nodded quickly.

“Look at me and tell me it isn’t obvious that I’m a TwiHard.” You say pointing to your face.

The conversation had turned to reading, Eddie asking about your reading goal for the year you’d set yourself and balking when you said you were on book twelve in the month of May, and then reminiscing on his days as a bookworm when people were waiting in line for the newest additions to the Twilight Saga.

“I guess there’s only one thing I need to ask.” He said as he leaned forward. “Team Edward or Jacob? You should know that there is a correct answer, and if you respond Team Jacob I’ll l have to La Push you into traffic.”

“Of course I’m Team Edward! Jacob can keep his idealized version of Bella and shove it—“

“—La Push.” Eddie teased.

“My mistake.” You chuckle and take another bite. “So did you read them or watch them first?”

“Oh, I read them.” He urged and shook his head at his past self, “I wanted to be a Cullen so bad.” He scoffed and smiled when you nodded in agreement.

“Who’s your favorite?” You ask.

“Hmm… back in the day I’d say Edward. But now I think my real favorite is Carlisle.”

You look impressed with his answer and nod for him to elaborate, “I didn’t have the finest of upbringings.” He cleared his throat, preparing to be vulnerable. To let himself be known. “My brother and I didn’t meet til we were teens—his mom and my mom didn’t get along because of the old man, but we both landed at our Uncle’s house around the same time and—“ he shook his head feeling way off topic, “I like the found family thing. You know? The people that don’t have to love you but still do anyways.” He chuckled.

When he looked up at you, he found your eyes soft and your hand reaching out for his again. The feeling of your hand in his was becoming familiar and he liked that he knew how you’d fit together.

“And you found yours?” You ask.

He nodded warmly, “Yeah. I did. I count Dak as found family since I haven’t always had him, y’know, sometimes it still doesn’t feel real that we’re brothers and not just friends. But brothers aren’t exactly supposed to show up on your doorstep one day and never leave, right?” He chuckles at himself and you give him a weak smile as you wonder what else you’ll learn about him.

“Do you have any siblings?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No. It was just me and mom, mostly.” You say almost tensely. “Things were… a lot different between us back then. It was hard living with her without my dad.“ you nod and your eyes flicker up to his, finding his gaze on yours, his lingering smile gone for the first time. “Reading helped. Still does.” You smile.

Eddie’s smile came back at the sight of yours and he nodded, “Agreed. Though I must say, I can’t find anything I wanna devour the way I consumed the hunger games trilogy—“

“Oh my god, yes!” You hastily agree and lean forward.

“I wasn’t that big of a fan of Gale.” Eddie sighed in thought as he sat back.

“What do you mean?! He kept her family alive while she was gone at both games, despite the mixed signals she was always sending him.” You explained and he shrugged.

“Mockingjay really showed their differences, though. They were each others first love, y’know? Best friends, most importantly. But he wanted her to be something she wasn’t. He became more desensitized to the violence and Katniss needed… I dunno… a softness, and m’boy Peeta knew exactly what she needed. Til he was hijacked.” He rolled his eyes and took a sip from his now empty drink.

You bite the inside of your lip as you come to realize you agree with him. “Okay. You got me. Katniss is softer than she lets on.”

“Kinda like how you’re braver than you let on.” He winks at you and you blush down at the empty basket. A waitress drops the check by the table, which Eddie quickly swipes up and places his money inside.

“C’mon, cutie,” he stands and hold out his hand, which you take without hesitance. “Time for the main course.”

You happily take his hand and follow him out the door, wondering if he would always wanna hold your hands so firmly in his. His grip reminded you of the way your mom held your hand in the stores as a child, like he’s afraid to lose you in the crowd.

You’re appraising him in the car as he fiddles with the radio, connecting his phone and playing a song you sent him a week ago. “Now you’re just trying to get brownie points.” You roll your eyes even though you blush.

“What? It’s a good song! Much like you, it’s been stuck in my head since I first heard it.”

“Have you always been like this?” You ask.

Eddie looks taken aback by your wording, “Like what?” He looks over at you incredulously, thought you can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.

“Charismatic and laid back and outgoing and, and, and!” You shrug and he scoffs. “I just wanna know if it’s a god given gift or if there’s hope for me, cause damn. You could charm the socks off anyone.” You shake your head and look out the windshield.

He chuckles and turns the wheel, getting settled in the new direction and lane of traffic before answering, “Just the socks?” He smirks over at you and you roll your eyes for the hundredth time and blush for the thousandth.

“Honestly, Eddie, I’ll la push myself out of this car if you don’t stop doing that.” You pry your eyes away from him and cross your arms though the playful smile lingered at the corners of your mouth. You loved it though it was growing immensely aggravating.

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart, look at me.” He pleaded with a sorry tone, one you’d give a child in a sour mood. You didn’t comply, choosing to watch the traffic lights instead.

Your silence is ringing louder than a gong in Eddie’s ears as he drives, and before he knows it, he’s pulling over onto the shoulder and turning on his hazards, “What’s going on?” You ask, looking over at the gages on the dash for a check engine light or something. When you find his eyes on you, you flinch back in confusion.

“Now that I have your attention.” He smiled. You can’t help your grin as you swat at his shoulder and he turns to you. “I was the town pariah until I left at 21.” He sighed, his eyes looking more and more puppylike the longer he spoke, his eyes darting away like yours had the day you met. “You know how it is—small town America, everyone hated me for the music and stuff I liked and how I dressed, it’s dumb. Me being me caused a lot of trouble. And I had to learn to overcome their bullshit or let it get the best of me, which it didn’t.” He nodded assuringly. “I made great friends there. Most of them are here with me in the city, now. College and all. But I really found myself when I left Hawkins. When I figured out the world really was so much bigger. And that the people at home are the real weirdos, not me.” He scoffed and you nodded in agreement.

“Point is.” He sighed. “It’s a coping mechanism—my charm.” He shrugged, looking at you from behind the mask, his smile weak and eyes looking almost sad. “I’m sorry, if I come on too strong—“

“No! No.” You shake your head. “You’re great, Eddie.” You assure and your heart swells with his smile, “I’m so glad you shared that with me.” You accidentally rasp as you try to be quiet, “I know what it’s like to not belong… I wish I could’ve seen you back then.” You chuckle.

“Oh you would’ve hated me.” He rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t keep my mouth shut.” He tsked.

“Oh I can’t imagine that!” You tease and lean closer as you grab his hand and he smiles down at it.

“I’ve never been so nervous about someone.” He admitted as he flickered his gaze up to your eye just for a moment before looking back down at your intertwined hands. “No one’s ever treated me like such a big deal before. Or wanted to know me the ways you do.” He smiles up at you again before kissing your hand. “With you it’s like I wanna…. keep being the cool guy, y’know?”

“Eddie, you can’t actually be saying you’re nervous… because of me.” You shake your head, “It’s me, remember? Chicken fingers?” You shake your joined hands to jostle him like a friend getting a pep talk. “Y’know I don’t just swallow my tongue for anybody, you must really be something special! Plus have you looked at yourself lately? It’s intimidating how hot you are!”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I take my girl out to eat now? Or are you gonna ignore me again when I flirt with you?” He asks.

The term strikes somewhere eager in your chest, your eyes flying to his as he turns his blinker on to merge onto the road, “Mhm.” Is all you’re able to manage as he grins in satisfaction and takes his opportunity to join the flow of traffic, all without dropping your hand.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The walk through the parking lot was quiet but the silence was warm. Eddie had brought you to a place called ‘Black Barn Reserve’ and from the outside, it looked very rustic and cozy. The dining area was dim, candles illuminating the tables, and a large bonfire at the front of the open room, the large glass doors swung open to the outside for more areas to eat and lounge.

“You ever been here before?” He asked, his eyes taking in the scene and looking for a familiar face.

“Oh, gosh, no— I’ve heard of it though. It’s beautiful! I wanna curl up and read over there.” You point to an over stuffed armchair in the corner, adjacent to the bonfire.

Eddie smiles at the mental picture of you curled up with a book and a blanket next to a roaring fire, until he spots the familiar head of hair he’d been searching for. “Steve!” He stuck his hand up in greeting as Steve pushed through the crowd, shoving his order book into his apron as he approached.

“Its so good to see you!” The guy pulled Eddie in for a quick hug, and released him before looking over at you, “And you! Eddie has told us so much about you—“

“S’enough of that Steve,” He turns to you with a smile and introduces you by name.

“Steve Harrington— Eddie’s best friend.” The guy smiled and shook your hand before looking to Eddie, “It’s all set up for you.” He released your hand and patted Eddie on the back before darting off in the direction of a set of booths.

Eddie smiled at you bashfully and took your hand, leading you through the room to a secluded corner by a bay of windows. The booth was small and round, three candles at the center of the table smelling like warm and spicy herbs.

“I used to work here, with Steve.” He chuckled as you sat and began scooting to the other side, finding him following close by and capturing your hand under his. “That’s far enough, sweet thing, come closer.” He teased. You oblige him and scoot so close your leg almost pressed against his.

“Comfy?” He asked, placing his hand on your knee. You smile and nod, opening the menu with few options and tiny writing.

“I thought you had to have a reservation to get into this place.” You smile and look up at the ornate ceiling, the chandeliers barely glowing with light.

“Uh, usually you have to! I just got lucky that Harrington still works here and the shift manager still likes me.” He shrugged, looking down at the menu before looking over at you with a smile. “I’ve always liked this spot the most. Thought it was the best seat in the house.”

“Why is that?”

“Cause you get to enjoy every part of the place sitting right here. Bonfire,” he gestures to the fire a few feet away just outside, “People watching,” he motioned to the loaded dining room before you. “Plus the food is fantastic.”

“I’ve heard!” You chirp, trying to make out the font and find the word ‘entree’. Eddie’s finger comes into view when he points it out.

“The menu changes every night, so you can choose from the steak, pasta, or soup.” He drapes his arm on the booth behind you, looking off your menu instead of picking up his own.

You sigh in relief, nodding and automatically deciding you wanted the pasta. “You mean they don’t have chicken fingers?” You ask casually.

Eddie chuckles through his nose and leans closer. “If the pasta sucks, I’ll personally get you your chicken tenders.” He squeezes your knee before stroking the round of it with his thumb and draping his other arm around you.

“How’d you know I wanted pasta?” You ask.

Eddie freezes before his smile blooms, “Oh, uh, well, I remember your mom saying you liked that pasta—the first time you came to the restaurant.” You cover his hand with yours, brushing against his rings with careful fingers.

“I think it’s really sweet you thought of that.” You giggle, lighting up his world, “And for the record, I wanted that pasta. I just said chicken fingers because it’s all I could remember.” You put your face in your hand.

“No!” Eddie tsked, “so you don’t like chicken fingers?? Is that why you didn’t eat them??”

“No, I do! Just couldn’t eat them when my stomach was in knots.” You laugh it off and find Eddie’s smile waning.

“Is it-is it always like that?” He asked gently, “Your….?”

“Anxiety? Yeah.” You chuckle as the waitress approaches, a black dress and pearls around her neck like the rest of the female presenting employees. Her French twist was elegantly loose, and her lips were the perfect shade of mauve.

“Good evening, my name is— Eddie?” She questioned.

Eddie’s eyes fell away from yours and met hers with what seemed to be hesitance. “Monica! Hey! I didn’t know you were working here again.” He said tensely, making no move to stand like she seemed to think he would.

“I just started back about two weeks ago!” She informed him as cheerfully as she could before directing her attention to you, “I’m Monica, Eddie’s friend,”

“—old friend.” He clipped.

“Old friend.” She added, her eyes looking you over.

“This is my date, Y/n.” He put his arm around you, looking back to you, “Monica and I used to work together.”

“You could say that.” She scoffs, looking down at her leather bound book, “Can I get you some—“

“Two cokes, please.” You cut her off to get her out of the way, feeling quite shitty about it until she walked away and Eddie relaxed. You hadn’t noticed how rigid he’d grown when Monica arrived, the hundreds of questions swirling through your mind like an endless loop-de-loop.

You swallow before you meet his weary eye, flashing a closed mouth smile that was supposed to be encouraging, but for Eddie it hit him deep in the chest, like he’d already fucked up.

“Monica and I didn’t date.” He blurted.

You nod, the sentiment settling in. “I get it.”

“If I’d known she was working here again, I wouldn’t have brought you here, I’m so sorry.” He held your hand in both of his, “It wasn’t even a thing y’know, but she wasn’t… exactly… interested in me so I made a clean break and she…” he blew out a breath, “—was not happy.”

You nod again, the tension releasing in your chest. “Do you want to leave?” You ask, ready to give him an out and continue this date somewhere else.

“No, absolutely not.” He chuckled. “I’ve been wanting to bring someone special here for a while. Not gonna let anything ruin it.”

You smile and nod, happy to be wherever he is. Your eyes close in bliss when he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, as another waiter brings your drinks and asks to take your order.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That was literally the best pasta I’ve ever had in my life.” You groan in satisfaction as you leave the restaurant under Eddie’s arm, leftovers in the other hand.

“And now my question is, are you ready for dessert?” He asked with a glimmer in his eye, “too full?”

You shake your head, “Uh-uh, desserts the best part!” You insist, ducking into the car.

“Good. Cause the next stop is my favorite place to eat, like ever.” He smiled over at you and started the car, handing you his phone and the aux cord. “Play me something good, DJ.”

You racked your brain, searching for something he’d like, something that would impress him. You decide to go to your messages and play the song he sent you the most recently. “What?” He croons in disappointment as he joins the night traffic.

“What?” You chuckle.

“I said play me something good, not play me my music I listen to every day! Put on something you like.” He urged. “Let me in that pretty little cranium of yours.”

You bite your lip and nod, “You like the Warning?” You ask tentatively as you search them up.

Eddie shook his head, “I haven’t heard of them.”

“Well we’re gonna fix that.” You smile as the beginning of ERROR fills the speakers.

Eddies face lights up, when he hears the thudding bass lead the drums in. “Oh, shit! Okay!” He bobs his head to the beat, “I like it!” He says with a look on his face that shows you he’s impressed. “You’re gonna have to play DJ more often!”

You blush at the idea of being with him often.

You hoped you would be at least. And something in your heart to you, you would be.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Eddie…”

“Mhm…”

“Why are we parked in front of Chili’s?”

“Because! I have a to-go order.” He smiled, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Sit tight, I’ll be back.”

You nod as he steps out of the car and bounds up the sidewalk to the door where he’d shown you his ‘hiding place’ the day you’d come back for him. Your heart beat madly in your chest, the first moment you’d had alone since the start of the date and you finally realize how out of breath you are.

Over nothing.

You take a few steadying breaths and press your hands to your hot face, the bitter sting of your cold skin bringing you back down to earth a little bit. He’d been practically perfect— the whole date was. You didn’t want it to end, to live in this warm, giddy feeling forever.

You check your makeup and are pleasantly surprised when you see it hasn’t budged or caked or creased, with the exception of your lipstick worn off from eating and drinking. As you spot the familiar bouncing strides turning the corner you slap the mirror shut and busy yourself queuing music on your phone.

The lights come on when he pops open the door and he smiles as he hands you a to-go bag containing a single box. “Miss me?” He asked with the playful smile you were growing fond of.

“Of course.” You chuckle and look at the bag, unsure if you should open it or not.

Eddie shuts the door and settles in his seat and turns to you with a smile, as if he were taking you in after a long trip.

“What?” You giggle.

He shakes his head, “Nothing. Just looking pretty kissable over there.” He smirks and put his hand on your knee, stroking in soft circles before glancing up at you again.

You smile and huff a gentle laugh before leaning forward and letting him kiss your lips, the energy bordering between chaste and something eager. You wanna deepen the kiss, tempted to put your hands on his face, through his hair, however you could keep him close— but he pulls away.

“Good girl.” He purrs and you stifle a gasp by clearing your throat and smiling. He nods at the bag. “Open it up for us.”

You unwrap it from the plastic bag and pop open the styrofoam shell to find a chocolate lava cake, a scoop of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce drizzled across the top, and two silver spoons. You couldn’t help but notice the heart swirled in the chocolate on the bottom of the container and blushed madly as you look back up at him.

“You didn’t take a single bite—when you came with your mom. I even made sure you had a spoon in case you changed your mind and you didn’t! But… now that I know you a little better now… I assume you weren’t up to eating at the time. And everyone loves lava cake so…” he trails off as he purses his lips to the side.

You bite the inside of your smile and shake your head at him. “You’re—“ you try to find the words. Unbelievable? Amazing? Perfect? A dream come true?

He seems to realize your struggle and holds up a spoonful of cake and ice cream. “It’s still warm.” He whispers.

You take a bite and try to ignore the lump in your throat as you chew and swallow, or the tears prickling at your eyes at his tenderness. You loved how he made you feel and hated to think this could all be a trap. That he could give you this kind of love and take it away as soon as he grew bored.

And it made you feel so pathetic and weak and even a little naive all over again.

A tear slides down your cheek and he turns you by the chin to face him. “What’s wrong?” He says just above a whisper.

You meet his eye and wipe your face with a shaking head, “Literally.. nothing. I just—wow, I’m so sorry—“ you smile and sniffle and shake your head at yourself as you wipe your eyes, “—no one’s ever made such a big deal out of me. Not like this. Or—paid attention to me in the ways you do.” You shake your head. “I feel pathetic around so many people because my brain can’t handle life happening. I’m frazzled and scatterbrained and painfully shy, and I constantly feel like.. like a burden. Like it’s asking too much to be understood, Y’know?” You sniffle again as more tears fall.

Eddie nods and holds your hand and wills you to finish. His strong girl.

His brave girl.

“So, thank you.” You shrug. “Even if it doesn’t last I’ll always remember this.” You say candidly.

Eddie caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch, “Where have you been, sweetheart?” Is all he can ask. You scrunch your brows together in confusion and he leans in to kiss you again. Your lips are cold against his, tasting temptingly sweet, but he keeps this kiss innocent before pulling back and wiping away your tear with his thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to fuck off.” He said with only a hint of playfulness in his soft tone. You scan his face to find a sign that he was just speaking empty words but his eyes— his deep amber irises soft with the warmth of the sentiment he spoke between you.

You sigh and nod profusely, unable to string the words fighting at the forefront of your mind to be placed together properly, to form a sentence that articulated exactly how full and wonderful he made you feel. Instead, you lean for ward and kiss him, a hand resting on his stubbled cheek.

Eddie chuckles against your lips and you feel his smile as he moves. You break the kiss and you linger so closely your noses brush. He takes it upon himself to nuzzle his nose against yours and you let out a giggle.

You pick up the other spoon and scoop a bite to hold up for him. He chuckles and takes the bite, his eyes on yours in the dim car light.

The intro to Fade Into You by Mazzy Star comes on, and your eyes dart to his to lock in an eager gaze, “I love this song!” You both say at the same time.

You can help but share a laugh before Eddie serves you another bite, “We should’ve been doing this all night, how romantic.” He teased, though he meant it.

You blush and roll your eyes before you hold up your spoonful to his lips, and as he takes a bite, you pull it away and eat it yourself with a smile.

“Ohhh! Is that how it’s gonna be, now? We were having a moment!” He chided with an amused smile. You swallow and serve him an extra big helping to make up for it, which he’s happy to accept.

“You are forgiven.” He says through a mouthful and smiles as he scoops a bite of ice cream into the spoon and holds it up, offering it just in front of his mouth.

You lean in with closed eyes and a gaping mouth, only to feel his lips slot against yours sensually. Warm and firm and languid, the heat both physical and energetic, the passion rippling between you.

You thought back to that movie Pretty in Pink, when Iona talked about Duckie’s kiss setting her thighs on fire— that’s exactly what this felt like. The fire consumed you, licking up your legs and hips, his daring little nip at your lip rendering you utterly thoughtless until he lifted the haze like a blanket, pulling back from the kiss just as you really needed it most.

“Now, we’re even.” He winks.

“Oh, no, we are not.” You say through a scoff.

Eddie’s eyes light up at the challenge, “You took a bite, so did I.” He shrugged.

You cross your legs and shift your hips slightly, your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed at him and his antics. Luckily, Eddie knew exactly what all of those things meant. He placed his hand on your knee and stroked in an agonizingly slow circle. “Isn’t that fair?” He asks.

Your brain begins churning into mush as he looks at you in the way he did the first time you saw him, like you’re the most interesting person on the planet—the sexiest most interesting person on the planet. And you only just now realized.

You smile in a way he hadn’t seen before as you looked him over, “Absolutely not, you practically, freakin’ mouth fucked me!” You accuse with a smile of disbelief.

Eddie’s jaw drops as he laughs, “What?!”

“You heard me!” You giggle, “You’re just gonna juice my brain and pretend it was no big deal like I’m not gonna have to take two days to recover.” You push his shoulder playfully as he keeps laughing.

“Oh my god, you’re- you’re—“ he shakes his head at her, and instead of finding a word, he brings her in for one more brain juicing kiss.

It was hot and slow, it had you whimpering without any care or notice and arching your back into him despite the console between you, his tongue moving against yours and his teeth nipping at your lip every once in a while to make you moan for him, hoping he’d soon find out how to play other parts of your body to create louder sounds.

When the kiss finally broke, Eddie pushed your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. “I wanna ask you—properly— if you’d… be my girlfriend. A-And we can get together like this whenever we can, Y’know? I kinda like how we have the same crazy schedules. And you’re good at phone tag! You make it fun.” He smiles and swipes his thumb over your cheekbone. “You make my days exciting again, you know that? He admitted. “I’ve never liked phone calls—ever! But every time you call, I wanna drop my whole life to speak to you.”

You nod, but in a way that tells him you share the feeling because of him.

“Y’know other girls, they like the whole ‘bad boy thing’ I have going on and think I’m good for a fun night and a motorcycle ride, but none of them wanna deal with my hours, or my life. They’re not actually interested in me, you know? And here you are.” He nudges your nose with his. “Wanting to know my deep dark secrets and my favorite color.”

“Favorite colors aren’t deep dark secrets! And it’s not a secret if you wear it exclusively.” You give him a pointed look and he chuckles.

“Like my own pocket sized comedian, I swear.” He holds your face in both of his hands like a child having cute aggression and shakes his head with an affectionate smile.

“What do you say, chicken fingers? Feel like bein my girlfriend?” He asks.

You smirk playfully and shrug, “I may have to take a couple days to think about it, y’know? Had a great time though.” You try to stay serious, but the second he looks fearful and the gooey tenderness leaves his eyes, you’re shaking your head, “I’m just kidding! Just kidding, I’d love to be your girlfriend—are you kidding me?” You scoff.

Eddie barely has time to smile before you’re kissing him again, his laughter a mere mumble against you before it’s snuffed out by your kiss, his lips melting against yours.

As he’s running his fingers over your hair and relishing the feeling of your soft lips against his, he can’t help but wonder what date you’ll go on next, before this one’s even over.

You pull away, “Do you, uh—“ you shake your head at yourself.

Eddie nods at you, hoping he knows what you’re gonna ask him. “Go on, brave girl.” He whispers, keeping you close.

You blush and look down, “Uh, do you wanna—maybe, take me—“

“What, you want me to take you home, now?” He asked, quieter than before.

You freeze and bite your lip bashfully, “Or… home with you?” You meet his eye before darting away and chuckling at yourself, “I’m sorry, too much? It was too much—“ you don’t get a chance to ramble on before he turns your face back to his.

He’s got a cocky, pleased smile on his lips when he says, “I will happily take you to mine. Or yours if that’s what you want.” He looks you up and down for any signs of hesitation.

You nod, “Yeah, yeah, wherever you want. Just not… ready for this night to end.” You chuckle nervously.

Eddie beams at that and scoops up another spoonful, “One more bite and I’m taking my girl home. We can finish this later,” He smiles as you take a bite, “Late night snack, maybe?” He whispered in your ear as you chewed, and smiled when your eyes went wide and your skin burned pink.

“Where-where are we gonna—?” You ask, closing the container and putting it back in the bag.

“I’m taking my girl back to my apartment,” he said as he shifted the car into reverse, “—spending the rest of the night with a movie on the tv and my lips on yours.” He smiles over at you. “How’s that sound?” He takes your hand in his and kisses it as he slows to a stop at a red light.

“…Will you take me out on the balcony?” You ask shyly. His eyes widen and he balks, your brain needing a second to catch up, “Wait, no that’s not—“

“Too late, baby, it’s already out there—and the answer is yes, absolutely—anything you wanna do on my balcony, consider it done.” He says as he eases forward with the flow of traffic and you bury your face in your hands and giggle madly.

You peek open your eyes to see Eddie still smiling at the road ahead, turning into a parking garage. He held his lip between his teeth, carefully maneuvering into his reserved spot and looking over at you eagerly as he threw it in park and turned it off. “You ready? Sure you don’t want me to take you home?”

You nod, “Mhm, I’m sure.”

He nods back at you and opens his door, “Sit tight.” He says before shutting it and walking around to open your door for you.

“Oh, special treatment?” You ask as he helps you out.

“Oh, yeah, being my girl has its perks.” He pulls you up and wraps an arm around your waist before leading you to the elevator. He slides his hand across your back and grips your elbow before grazing down your arm to lace his fingers in yours.

You catch the doors going up with one of Eddie’s neighbors, an older woman named Nadine that wore an ornate silk scarf on her head, giving a warm toothy grin as she greeted you both. Eddie eagerly introduced you as his girlfriend, the woman shaking your hand with a warm pat before joking about Eddie’s appetite.

After she’d disappeared behind a red chipped door, Eddie fumbled with his keys as he explained, “Miss Nadine makes amazing dumplings and noodles, she’s always giving me leftovers since her husband passed away.” You watch her door as he unlocks his own, “He was great too.” He adds as the door opens and thuds the wall lightly.

“Home sweet home.” He says as he closes it behind you and you scan the area. “—sorry if stuffs a little…” he says as he snatches up some food wrappers and dirty cups. You giggle and spot the place on the counter where all the mail was dropped and torn open, Amazon boxes and shoes piled by the door.

Movie and band posters hung on the walls, along with some personal pictures that dotted the spaces here and there. “It’s okay, I like it. Clean houses can feel… sterile. Y’know? You live here, it’s supposed to look like it.” You chuckle as he successfully clears off the island and smiles at you.

“Well don’t you know how to make a guy feel at home.”

“In your own home?”

“Yeah!” He said as if it were simple. “Y’know… you aren’t the first girl I’ve brought back here…” he takes your jacket off your shoulders, you swallow thickly, wondering just how much he was used to in the bedroom, if you could deliver the kind of intensity he’s used to, “—but I was always really nervous about… I dunno, their judgement? Y’know they’d make comments sometimes and I wanted it be nice the first time you came and I dunno, just hearing that from you…” he shrugs with an easy smile, “C’mon. My rooms over here.”

You follow him, your heart thumping it’s way deeper into your chest. He pushes open the black door and you’re hit with the smell of him. His cologne, his detergent, the stale cigarette smoke, and a hint of skunk wafting over from the open grinder on his desk. “Fuck!” He mutters before shutting it and shoving the tray it rested on into the drawer.

You giggle and look around his room, at his messy bed covered with shirts and pants and jackets, several pairs of shoes strung about the floor. “Don’t worry, I kinda figured it came with the bad boy territory.” You turn to him and watch him pick up the clothes and stuff them back into their places to clear the bed.

He smiles and takes off his jacket, laying both yours and his on his desk chair.

“Ah, so.. do you…?”

You nod slowly and his face lights up, “Well… in that case..” he turns back to his desk and roots around for a minute before producing a blunt with the end barely smoked. “Care to ‘joint’ me out on the balcony?” He asks with a wink.

You practically snort, “That was awful, but yes, I would love to.” You smile and follow him to the double doors overlooking the street and horizon. He has it between his lips and lit by the time he turns to face you and leans against the rail, becoming a part of the gorgeous city view.

You tuck a leg under you as you sit in his chair, and wait patiently as he takes a hit. He looks over at you and smiles before reaching out to hand it to you, watching as you take a small hit without coughing, “Look at you, sitting all pretty in my chair, smoking my weed.” He said admiringly.

“Like what you see?”

“A little too much.” He smiles as you hand it back. “Been wanting to bring you out here since you first asked to see the view over FaceTime.” He blushed before taking a drag. “No one ever.. cared to, uh, come out here with me before.” He shrugged.

“Really?” You ask as you look into the blackness illuminated by the lights of night, stacked buildings and neon lights outlining and dotting the distance as far as the eye could see. “It’s like… a giant Christmas light show.” You mumble as he hands it back and you finally look at him.

“Think you could get used to it?” He asked.

You smile at him and his hopeful eyes, his knee bouncing with his nerves. “No.” You shake your head. He freezes for a second before you speak again, “It’s too pretty to get used to. I swear I just keep finding things to look at.” You shake your head in disbelief and then look back over at his smile set on you.

“I know exactly how that feels.” He whispered before squatting down to your level and stroking your cheekbone as you take one more hit.

“Do you?” You ask, turning the joint around and sliding it between his lips. He smiles at the intimacy and takes a drag as he nods.

“Mhm,” he says and exhales through his nose, “I thought this was beautiful, but now I got you out here and it’s just…” he shakes his head and you lean into his palm as his fingers find your hair, “You make it breathtaking.” He whispers, his eyes heavy with warmth and admiration.

You scoff and blush before looking away at the scenery, but a ringed hand turns you to face him by your chin, and he kisses you deeply, a warm palm on your cheek. It’s firm and deep as you move together, lustfully slow.

He pulls back from the kiss to whisper, “I wanna see you out here more, yeah?” He asked, kissing you once more, “—get you your own chair and everything.” He offers as he rests his head against yours.

You smile and nod the best you could, “My very own? More perks?” You say just as quiet, the street noise below barely even noticeable in this moment together.

“Not to mention the super comfy place in my bed… yours if you want it.” He whispers.

You stare at him for a minute and grab his wrist to lift the joint to your lips as he held it, your eyes on his the whole time had him gulping. “Can I… try it out?” You ask daringly.

Eddie’s eyes go moony and glazed as he nods eagerly, “Good girl.” He says before he’s bending over and flopping you over his shoulder to rush inside and drop you on the bed. He takes no hesitation in crawling over you and showering you with kisses that have you giggling the most you ever had.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hours later, when the moon was full and high in the sky, and both of you were well sated in your desire for one another, you laid in Eddie’s arms, in his shirt, eating from the same spoon as you finished the lava cake and kissed the stray bits of chocolate and vanilla from the corners of each others mouths.

You’re nestled between his legs, against his chest, and he ducks down into your neck to inhale deeply like he’d been dreaming of since he first caught a whiff of you and your fancy perfume. You giggle when he presses a kiss there and when you turn your attention back to the Simpson’s, he checks his phone.

Despite the notifications littering his Lock Screen, he’s marking the date below the time, knowing deep in his heart this is how he’d wanna spend it every year forever.

Or until you tell him to fuck off…

Which is never happening.

-



-

-

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[wintrrrsoldier]

Pick up, will you?

a voice-mail drama : rockstar!Eddie Munson x afab!reader

Words: 1k-ish | angst, hurt, open ending |

Eddie's music career is doing great; things between you not so much. He's trying to call you but you're not picking up the phone.

CW: references to (unfair) arguments, jealousy, commitment problems sponsered by childhood trauma and bad parenting. Also plenty swearing and nicknames. Eddie's a soft sad boi.

beeeep…. beeeep…. beeeep…. beeeep…. beeeep…__ “….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“

“Well shit, uh… that’s……. You still haven’t changed that, hm?…. Hey, it's me, Eddie. Well, you can hear that, right? Are you there? Pick up, will you?……… You know I hate talking to those things; it’s like… being interrogated by myself or something………. Fuck it, I’ll just call back later—“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“

“Really? Again? It’s 10pm where the fuck can you be?…… M’ going to call Robin—“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“No, really, where are you? I just called half the people we know and, uh, nobody has seen or heard from you in over a day; Barb said you took four days off at the bookstore but you didn’t say why and…… shit, shit, shit, I hate this, you know I hate it when you ignore me. It's not fair……… I know I fucked up… don’t you think I know that? But…….. Fuck you weren’t exactly calm and collected either the last time— and not exactly nice and I- just- want- to talk to you….. How long is that shit even recording for?……… I——“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“That stupid fucking recording…… if I, uh, have to hear that one more time I’m taking a five-hour flight just to burn that tape…………… fuck, fuck, can basically hear you saying ‘Good to know your priorities, Ed.’ Jesus fucking Christ, I’m sorry!…. I had no way of knowing that Murray’s contacts were legit, right? And that shit would go so fast with that record deal and derail our plans but, baby, like… you know how hard we’ve worked to get any of those music label snobs to notice us and then to get an offer like thi——“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“It just drives me insane that, uh, that you honestly believe that I don’t care about you….. Or us…............................... Look, I get why you’re mad, I really do, believe me but I do care, alright?…………...……… I do……… So much…….........…………………... Shit… M’ not going to cry on tape—“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“I feel like I’m in purgatory……. I hate that fucking tape but it’s the only way I have right now to hear your voice…….. The last time I heard it you were telling me to ‘Go and enjoy some fucking groupies.’ That hurt, you know? Like, uh, like really hurt…………. What was I saying? I get that you’re mad. I get that it’s all… fucked up timing but, haha, do believe me when I say that this wasn’t me chickening out again. I really really wanted to move into that apartment with you……. Like, you can hear my excitement on that stupid recordi——“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“That shit is messing up my train of thought, where are you? It’s four in the morning and you’re still not home, I’m starting to freak out………..….. You’ve said it yourself, uh, ahm, that I made progress, right? With the, uhm, the whole commitment thing?……… I’ve thought about that again the past few days and it, like…. It was never about my commitment to you, you know, but…. This will sound idiotic……. M’ not good at allowing myself good things….. It’s too fucking hard when it all goes to shit in the end——“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“And you, haha, you’re a really good thing. Like the best fucking thing that ever happened to me after Wayne and………………. And…. Fuck…… M’ sorry, sweetheart, I am……… When I asked you to move in with me that first time over a year ago? I meant it! And I meant the time after that too and oh, did I mean it the last time. But, uhm, yeah…….. How… You……………….. I don’t wanna say that on here…………………………. M’ sorry—”

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“I was scared you would grow tired of me faster when you had me around all day…………. Wanted to, ugh, to stretch it out or something………………………………….. I love you…………………… You have to know that, right? You have to know that I don’t give a shit about groupies! That’s not what I’m doing this for, it’s just the music, babe, you must know that— you know me!…………. Fuck…………………..….…….. You know me….. Right? ……………. I didn’t miss the signing of that lease because——“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“I didn’t miss it because ‘I want to slowly weed you out’, shit, how shitty am I treating you for you to say stuff like this?………………. Christ, why are you even with me when you think I’m capable of being such a fucking asshole? You know— you know about my parents…. How I despise stuff like that and I know I’m twitchy, but……… but not like that…………….. I know you’re hurt……… but that….. I'm hurt too. You were mean…. Like, uh, really fucking mean and I never ever——“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“……….. You always had a bite but you’ve never been mean…. Not like that…. Am I doing that to you? Making you, uh…… wearing you out?…………. I don’t wanna do that, darlin’, I reaaaally don’t want to be the guy who fucks up a soul like you……………. Shit…… shit shit shit I hate this! Please, please pick up that phone!…….. Sorry, I yelled…. I didn’t mean to….. But I’m scared you’re in trouble right now, or hurt or fucking escaped to Helsinki or something and I’m never going to see you again and the last thing I said to you was——“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“Well, yeah, you know what I said……….. Wish I could erase that from history…… Good thing there’s nothing in the contract about not driving up the hotel phone bill… yet…….. How long can that tape be? Better say something meaningful before it runs out……—“

“….Uh, ok: Hi. You’ve reached the number—“ “Babe… Babe, where are you?” “Fuck; living room, Ed!… Okay, so m’ doing that aga—” “Stop whatever you’re doing and put on some shoes.” “What’s going on? What’s that wild look?” “Oh, don’t you wanna know, but it’s a surpr——“ 

“Had to think about that for a second…. I don’t want to lose you. I know my whole rockstar adventure started out abysmal for us but I promise you, I will make it work. I just need a little time to get used to all of it…. Uhm, to figure this out, yeah? Together?….. And we find another place to move into when I'm back; a better place! What better way to spend that money than on spoiling you?………. Please....... Please don’t leave me— shit, there’s someone at the door…. Watch me being kicked out of a hotel for the first time for crying at night——“

[wintrrrsoldier]

tutor girl & the hawkins high freak

[status: complete]

summary: eddie munson desperately needs to graduate this year, and you're the only tutor that hasn't turned him down. over the course of the last few months of your senior year, you learn there's more to eddie than what gets whispered about him in the halls, and his presence in your life completely flips your world upside down. but is it for the better, or worse?

»— anything marked with an astrik contains explicit content. minors dni.

»— all work is my own. please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.

part one: i'm not above begging

part two: shakespeare is metal

part three: a compromise

part four: above average

part five: sounds so pretty when you beg*

part six: one huge misunderstanding*

part seven: remember that i love you

part eight: we'll handle it together*

part nine: hawkins high class of 1986

epilogue: plenty of time

[wintrrrsoldier]

Love will tear us apart masterlist 

Summary: Eddie convinced himself that he hates the girl that took over his mind the moment he laid eyes on her. The girl that he saved without even knowing it. 

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five // part six  // part seven // part eight // part nine // part ten // part eleven // part twelve // part thirteen // part fourteen // part fifteen // part sixteen // part seventeen // part eighteen // part nineteen // part twenty // part twenty one // part twenty two

drabbles/imagines/flashback scenes

Eddie sees reader for the first time

The bonfire

The disappearance

I’m right here

Lost & found

Cruel dreams

Eddie and reader almost kiss

The halloween party

The snow ball

The mall

Reader sees Eddie with another girl and gets jealous

New years

-

stranger things masterlist

[wintrrrsoldier]

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT MASTERLIST !

summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that.

pairing: eddie munson / f!reader

tags: nsfw! (minors look away now), virginity loss, friends to lovers, new relationship shenanigans, mentions of previous toxic relationships, angst with a happy ending, canon divergent

☄. *. ⋆ ┄ SERIES

✶ ┄ CHAPTER ONE: quid pro quo

✶ ┄ CHAPTER TWO: screw the deal

✶ ┄ CHAPTER THREE: heart-shaped

✶ ┄ CHAPTER FOUR: god help the girl

✶ ┄ CHAPTER FIVE: square one

✶ ┄ CHAPTER SIX: b-minus

☄. *. ⋆ ┄ DRABBLES

✶ ┄ coming soon!

[wintrrrsoldier]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐑 - 𝟒

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: Your house is full of people but you are still waiting for him.

Part 3

There were too many people and they were definitely too loud. Your house was full of groups of people scattered in different rooms dancing to some terrible music they had put on, laughing, joking and drinking and the only person you really wanted to be there with you was not there.

At least not yet.

"My room is off limits to all of you!" You yelled as you made your way through the sea of ​​people. "Try to enter and you'll see!"

You weren't sure anyone heard you, though.

You dropped onto the couch in the corner of your livingroom with a sigh as your gaze fell on Aaron talking to Jason across the room.

It came natural to you rolling your eyes at the sight of them; Aaron's smile bothered you more and more every time you saw him and Jason had drunk a disgusting amount of whiskey.

You really wished Robin had come but she told you her mom didn't let her out so late.

At least no one was using the pool outside.

"Hey, Y/N!" Aaron raised a hand to get your attention, yelling to be heard over the loud music. "Aren't you coming to dance with us?"

"No thanks! I'm fine sitting here." You answered quickly.

If you ever danced with anyone, they were the last people in the world you wanted to dance with.

You couldn't wait for that stupid party to be over and everyone to go back to their homes but since they had started arriving around 11pm you were sure they wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

You found yourself looking out the window, scanning your garden where some guys were smoking and talking to each other, looking for him.

Because you were still hoping Eddie would show up.

You knew he'd said "maybe" and that didn't mean he'd come but you couldn't help but keep hoping because that hope was the only thing you were holding on to endure that night.

You weren't stupid, you knew he had said he wasn't sure if he would be there or not because of all the other people at the party, like Jason who didn't spend a single day of his life yelling "freak" at him when he saw him in the hallway and everyone who laughed when he did that.

And you wouldn't have been mad at Eddie or disappointed if he didn't show up because you knew his situation but part of you hoped that he trusted you enough to know that you weren't going to let anyone say something bad about him inside your house, that you would always protect him.

At that moment, you saw your cat walking between people's feet and when Aaron almost ran over her as he went to get a bottle of beer from the fridge without even worrying about it, you got up and quickly reached her, taking her in your arms and carrying her to the couch with you.

"I don't like this party either." You said as you put her back down after petting her head, receiving a "meow" in response, and your gaze returned to the window.

This time however there was something different.

A van you knew too well was parked across the road from your house, slightly hidden by a tree.

But it was there.

And it was Eddie's van.

You suddenly stood up as if something had stung you and you headed for the door of your house.

You felt the cool night air on your bare skin as you went outside and you saw the heads of the guys who were still out there turning in your direction, probably wondering if you were leaving your own party.

But you didn't mind about them, because Eddie was there now.

When you reached his van, you circled around it, to find him leaning against its side, facing your neighbors house so no one at the party could see him yet.

"Hey." You smiled.

He raised his head and a shy smile appeared on his lips when he saw you too. "Hi."

You always liked his smile but that one time it wasn't the same as always and you noticed it right away.

"You don't know how glad I am you came." You positioned yourself in front of him and from his expression you understood that something was wrong.

"I can't." He said as he began to play with the silver rings on his fingers.

"You can't do what?"

"I can't come in and you know it." He muttered.

"Eddie-"

"You're you. And I'm me. And there's a lot of people in there. And I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so sorry because I really want to spend more time with you but I can't. I can't if they're there too." He lifted his head and looked at you with his big chocolate brown eyes, reminding you so much of a scared puppy at the side of the road.

"It's okay." You whispered. You didn't know why you felt the need to say it, you just wanted that expression on his face to disappear, that broken look in his eyes to leave, and his usual smile that you liked so much to return.

"Don't be mad at me, please. I just came to tell you how things are. To tell you I really want to, but I can't."

"I could never be mad at you, Eddie."

He gave you that look again and you wanted so much to hug him, hold him close and tell him everything was going to be fine.

"I have an idea." You said instead.

"What?" He frowned.

"I have an idea." You repeated. "We'll only have to go inside for a second."

His eyes were still saying "I can't".

"Please." You reached out a hand to him. "It will be just a moment, I promise." Your voice was tender.

Eddie stared at it like a hesitant animal scared that someone might hurt him.

"Do you trust me?" You asked.

He nodded.

You smiled.

Then he grabbed your hand.

As you guided him to the door of your house, speeding through your garden, Eddie felt like a lamb getting closer and closer to the slaughter, he felt like it was a trap.

He knew you would never do that, that you wouldn't let him in the house just so people could laugh at him but he couldn't shake that feeling that was telling him to turn and run away.

He squeezed your hand tighter and took a deep breath as he crossed the threshold of the door, entering the house.

He quickly noticed some people he'd seen before at school, some cheerleaders, some members of the basketball team from their fifth grade, Aaron and Jason.

Their eyes were all on him.

Suddenly Eddie felt like he was seven years old again, when the kids of his class invited him to a party and he only found out that it had been cancelled when he showed up.

Or maybe there had never been any party.

The only difference was that this time the party was real and everyone was watching him. Holding your hand.

Eddie wondered if you knew what you were getting yourself into, what stupid way you had decided to doom yourself.

You led Eddie through the flood of people seemingly heading to the other side of the house where a corridor led to the other rooms, still holding his hand in yours, giving him just that little bit of security he badly needed at that moment.

A hand on your shoulder suddenly made you turn around.

"What's the freak doing here?" Spat Jason, now in front of you, Eddie could smell the alcohol on his breath even from his position.

The voice in his head kept repeating the word "trap".

"It's my party. So I invite whoever I want. Who invited you, instead? Because I certainly didn't fucking do it."

Jason stared at you with his bloodshot eyes, opened his mouth to say something and then closed it, finding nothing to argue with.

"Exactly." You said before walking past him, not forgetting to bump your shoulder into his as you passed him and pulled Eddie with you, away from the music, the crowd and their prying eyes.

The last thing you saw before leaving the room was Aaron's gaze, cold and fixed on you, as if he was the one of the two who was mad.

He looked like a predator waiting in the shadows for its prey to approach or get distracted to spring forward and attack. For a moment you even thought that he would, that he would go after you.

But he didn't.

You only left Eddie's hand when you opened a door and softly pushed him inside and he immediately began to miss the feeling of safety he only felt when your hand was in his. He glimpsed a cat darting between your legs and sneaking into the room with you before I closed the door.

"It's a little messy but we'll make it right." You said as you sat on the edge of the bed in the room.

That was the moment Eddie realized he was in your bedroom.

It wasn't very big but it certainly was compared to Eddie's room in his trailer, and the walls were covered in posters and drawings.

It wasn't perfect but it was so you.

And maybe for that very reason, in a certain way it was perfect.

"Why did you bring me here?" He asked again looking around, realizing that finally he didn't need to scream anymore to hear his voice since in that part of the house the music was distant and muffled.

"You said you wanted to spend more time with me, didn't you?" You took off your boots and left them at the foot of the bed, then settled yourself with your back against the wooden headboard. "I have plenty of movies that we can see and we have all night since the others don't seem to want to leave." You added by pointing at the small tv in your room.

He liked how you referred to the people at the party as "the others," almost as if it was just you two and "the others" in the world.

Eddie thought that if a month earlier someone had told him that that day he would have been in your room, and you would have offered him to watch movies with you all night while in your own house there was a party going on, he would never have believed it.

"Are you gonna sit or not?" You exclaimed, reaching towards him who was still standing, grabbing his arm and making him fall on the bed next to you.

And Eddie laughed, really laughed for the first time that night.

He laughed because he was grateful that you brought him there with you, that you didn’t leave him with the people at the party and he was simply grateful that you were a part of his life.

At that moment, the cat who had entered the room with you jumped onto the bed and walked slowly towards Eddie, her little paws sinking into the mattress.

The cat sniffed Eddie's hand and he giggled, then ran his ringed fingers through her fur as she began to purr.

You laughed. "Her name is Bones."

"What kind of name is Bones?"

"I found her in the trash can behind my house, some kind of monster had left her there. And she was just skin and bones when I took her home with me, that's where the name comes from." You explained as the cat curled up on Eddie's lap.

"Hi bones." Eddie said as he stroked the space between the cat's little ears. "I like her."

But I like you better.

"She likes you too." You smiled.

Eddie for a moment almost thought you were talking about someone else.

You spent all night watching movies next to him, your shounders touching, going from horror to adventure to fantasy.

You didn't tell him how glad you were that he was there, that he trusted you when he grabbed your hand and that you would have happily spent the rest of your life in your room with him, watching movies and listening to the stupid but funny comments he made from time to time.

You hoped he knew.

You liked the way he interacted with Bones, how he spoke to her in a soft, calm tone of voice and how he gently petted her fur.

When you saw moments like that one, you wondered how people could think he was the leader of a satanic cult, how they could still call him "freak" even though Eddie was the complete opposite.

Sometimes you turned to him, finding the colored lights from the TV reflecting off his face and always the same thought would appear in your head.

He's pretty.

He wasn't in the same way that Aaron was, with his blond hair and green eyes, he was in an unconventional way, in a way that made you want to run your hands through his dark curls and look into his puppy eyes for hours.

It was after three in the morning when you and Eddie realized that there were no more voices, laughter and music.

You both walked out of your room, looking around and finding your house empty and in a complete mess.

Bottles and glasses were scattered everywhere, some even broken into pieces. Crumbs and spilled alcohol covered the floor. There were also some feathers lying around the room so probably someone had had a pillow fight.

"Great. Really great." You commented, already thinking that you would have kept cleaning everything until morning.

You were about to tell Eddie he could go home but he spoke first.

"Where do we start from?" He asked, walking over to the cushions on the floor and picking them up.

Of course Eddie wasn't going to leave you alone.

You couldn't help but smile.

Part 5

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

Love you from afar tags: @capitanostella @enam3l @saramelaniemoon @ang3lb44by @einkitty @themorriganisamonster @esme-viridian @daisyridleyyyy @whenshelanded @eggo-segual @comfortcharactercraze @callmeyn @expiredcum21 @unholyyylita @squidscottjeans @twilight-love-nochu-main @idkatee @bakugouswh0r3 @amira0303 @greatpizzascissorstaco @ebonybloom @emxxblog @lunaryasha @cherryobx @jasminelafleur @magicalchocolatecheesecake @tracymbcm @harrypotter-imaginees @eli-flower @mrsjellymunson @tttttttttttts-things @miabiar @wayfaring----stranger @princess-eddie @omgshesinsane @littlestarfighter03 @zoeymunson @tanyaherondale @bl4ckt00thgr1n @thebook-hobbit @eris-rose-86 @ly17 @jenuhlyn @ximi1315 @avocadotoastwithegg @lomljigg

[wintrrrsoldier]

This world is only gonna break your heart part one | E.M.

Warnings: 18+, angst, underaged drinking, mentions of drugs, eventual smut,

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie is desperate to be close to you and uses every chance to become your friend... or more.

Teaser

-

It’s a Saturday night, the hideout is a little more crowded than usual. Eddie and his friends sit at their usual table– it became a regular hangout place for them all, even when they’re not here to play. 

Gareth makes a joke which makes everyone laugh, except for Eddie. His eyes are on you. Sitting in the little booth by the window, you smile at Robin who sits opposite of you and Steve. His arm is wrapped around you and he traces your bare arm, laughing at something you said to him and Robin. 

Eddie can’t help but feel jealous as he stares at Steve, why does he get to hold you like this? 

“You okay, man?” Jeff asks as he eyes his friend in concern. 

The anger is clear on his face and in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he grumbles without looking away from you. He knows that you know that he’s staring at you but you ignore him and pretend not to notice. 

After what happened in the hallway at school a few backs up, your teasing only got worse and worse. You were driving him insane with your lingering gazes and touches, whenever he told you to stop teasing him, you would bat your lashes at him and look up at him with innocent eyes, ‘I don’t know what you are talking about, Eddie.’ Infuriating, you are an infuriating person but you're also the cutest one.

Gareth chuckles as he follows his vision, a smirk appears on his face, “you jealous, Eddie?” 

Eddie scoffs, tearing his gaze away from you, he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest. 

Jeff and Gareth look at each other with smug looks on their faces. It’s not the first time they caught him staring at you. 

“Why would I be jealous?” Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. 

His fists are clenched and he feels the bitterness on his tongue from watching you and your golden boy. 

“Maybe because you have a little crush on y/n?” Jeff grins, wiggling his brows. 

Little crush? Yeah, it’s definitely more than just a little crush. 

“Right,” Eddie mumbles, reaching for the beer bottle, he tries to ignore the teasing looks of his friends. 

“You know, she’s not dating him or anything.” 

Eddie swallows the bitter liquid before he looks back at his friends, eying him in curiosity, “and how would you know that?” 

Gareth shrugs, “she told me that she doesn’t wanna date anyone or settle down or whatever,” he explains.

“Whoa, wait, how do you know that?” 

Gareth furrows his brows, “know what?” 

“That she doesn’t want to settle down?” 

“Oh,” Gareth chuckles, “we were partnered up for an art project, she’s pretty talkative when you get to know her.” 

“What?” Eddie gasps loudly, staring at his best friend with a shocked look on his face. It’s the first time Eddie hears about it, he never even knew that you talk to Gareth. 

Jeff laughs, nudging his shoulder, he tilts his head towards you. Eddie’s eyes widen as he finds you staring at him, his cheeks heat up as you smirk a little. Eddie watches you intently, he eyes the arm around your shoulder. You notice it, of course you do. Surprisingly, you move forward, leaning your elbows on the table, Steve’s hand slips from your shoulder. 

“Wait, what is she like?” Jeff asks. 

“She’s cool, definitely not how everyone says she is,” Gareth shrugs. 

Eddie tears his gaze away from you and stares back at his friend, as a new wave of jealousy runs through his veins, “w-what… so you’re friends now or something?” 

“I mean, I guess but we only talk in class,” he says, chuckling when he sees the jealous look on Eddie’s face, “don’t worry, Eddie. She is all yours.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, “how did you even become friends with her? I can’t even have a normal conversation with this girl!” he exclaims in frustration. 

Jeff and Gareth glance at each other in amusement. Eddie is blind, very blind. 

“Maybe because you always try to flirt with her,” Jeff says, chuckling. 

“That’s..... that’s not true!” 

“Uh, yes it is! You tried to ask her out and failed, then you figured out that she is into assholes so you tried to be an asshole and failed…. horribly. Then you tried to flirt again and then made her think that you think she is a slut!” 

Eddie’s cheeks grew red as he listened to his friend’s words. He still feels awful for what he said to you in the hallways at school, a few weeks back. He didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. He never thought of you as a slut. 

“Maybe if you actually tried to be her friend without flirting with her or insulting her, then maybe she’d give you a chance, man.” 

Eddie runs a hand through his hair and sighs loudly as he looks down at his hands. 

“But, just so you know, I don’t think that she rejected you because she doesn’t like you.” 

Eddie raises his head, tilting his head in question, “w-what?” 

“You’re not an asshole– even when you tried to be,” he snorts, “I think she just doesn't want to hurt some good guy's feelings, that's why she probably only ever goes for douchebags, I mean just think about it. Billy Hargrove, Jason Carver and his friends, some of the other jocks.” 

“That one asshole who graduated the same year Harrington did,” Jeff points out, “what was his name again? Harvey… Hayden?” 

“Hayden, yeah… That guy was scary,” Gareth mumbles. 

“Wasn’t he her boyfriend or something?” 

“I’m not sure,” Eddie mumbles, "I don't think so. It was just a rumor."

Hayden Reed 

Eddie remembers him, he was in a few classes with him. The guy was popular but unlike the others, he never participated in the bullying, Eddie always had to endure. Still, there was always something unsettling about him. Eddie doesn’t know what it was but he always had that dark and void look in his eyes. He was one of his regulars, he wasn’t one to buy weed though, no, he wanted the heavier stuff. 

He has never seen you around him but rumors flew around that you dated him. The thought made him uncomfortable, Hayden was violent, he could tell by the bruised knuckles he constantly had. And it wasn’t just that, you were fifteen, a freshman. He was eighteen and about to go to college.

Your friendship or relationship or whatever it was between the two of you, didn’t last very long. Hayden went missing one night and he was never found again. 

–

“Can I ask you something?” 

You raise your head, meeting the hazel brown eyes of your best friend, “sure, what’s up?” 

"Why is Eddie Munson staring at you like that?"

You furrow your brows in confusion, not daring to look at him and those pretty eyes of his, “like what?” 

Steve chuckles, “like you broke his heart or something, he stares at you with those huge sad eyes.” 

Your heart softens and you hate it. Ever since Eddie has been trying to do everything to get your attention, you couldn’t help but find a liking towards him, more so than before. You continuously try to avoid him but it seems as though fate has different plans, everywhere you go, he is there, even tonight.

Shaking your head, you lean back in your seat, looking around the bar, your eyes search for Robin. She went to the bar to get more drinks with her fake ID but it seems like she found something or rather someone more interesting. Standing next to a pretty girl, you can tell that she is flirting with her, heavily. 

You make the mistake of looking at him.

Steve clears his throat, “I thought you didn’t go for nice people.” 

Sighing, you tear your eyes away from him and look back at Steve, “that’s why I rejected him.” 

He raises his brows, “oh, you rejected him?” 

You nod, “yeah, he uh– he asked me out on a date a few weeks back and then he tried to flirt with me and now everywhere I go, I see him,” you mumble, growing flustered under your best friend's gaze. 

“Did you want to go on a date with him?” 

You shrug, “I-I don’t do dates and relationships and stuff… you know that.” 

Steve’s gaze softens. 

“Y/n.. you don’t have to do this anymore, I think you proved that you’re a much better heartbreaker than I am,” he laughs as he thinks about the stupid bet you made a few years ago. 

Steve was your very first date, it was a summer night, he took you to a fair, you had an amazing time with him. You would be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t have a huge crush on him back then but Steve was a heartbreaker and you knew it, even back then, you were a little naive but you weren’t blind. You knew that after you’d have sex with him, he would drop you off at home and the next day, he would act like he never even knew you and you didn’t want that. You kissed and did some other stuff but you never went past that, you teased him and he stayed around, hoping that you would finally let him have you but it never happened. You expected him to get mad and frustrated and just give up but instead you somehow grew closer and oddly enough, you became best friends. 

“You gotta stop doing this.”

“Why?” 

He shrugs, “because it’s pointless, you don’t even like going on dates with all these losers.” 

“Yeah but it’s fun how they all just trust me and tell me all their secrets, I mean, who would’ve thought that Jason snorts cocaine or that his best friend is actually gay.” 

He laughs, shaking his head, “but where does it get you? Does it make you happy–”

“It distracts me, Steve,” you mumble, looking down into your empty glass, you avoid looking into his worried eyes. 

He speaks your name softly, “I think, you would feel much better if you found a better distraction, if you let some feelings in, love, y/n.” 

You roll your eyes, “I don’t do that.” 

“It feels good though, loving someone is the best feeling in the world,” Steve says with a small smile on his face. 

You look up at him, shaking your head slowly, a frown appears on his face, “and where did that get you?” you ask with a sad tone in your voice as you think of the heartbreak he went through when Nancy hurt him and replaced him with Jonathan. 

He tilts his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips, “it was still nice while it lasted.” 

“While it lasted,” you nod, “yeah, it’s all nice in that moment but then they break your heart. They lie, they cheat and then they leave, I don’t want that,” you say coldly. 

His eyes soften, sadness flashing in his eyes. He knows that you are scared of getting hurt. All this attitude is nothing but an act to protect your feelings. 

“It doesn’t have to be like that for you, honey.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

He blinks, staring at you in silence for a moment, looking over your shoulder again, a teasing smile appears on his face, “you know, I’d say that Munson over there would die for a chance with you.” 

“And that is my cue,” you mumble, rolling your eyes as you grab your empty glass and get up, “you want another drink?” you ask, ignoring the smirk on his face, you reach for his glass as well before you walk off. 

Steve chuckles to himself when he sees Eddie scrambling to his feet and going after you. His friends laugh at him when he trips over nothing. He flips them off without looking back. 

You lean against the counter, waiting for the bartender to come over to you but he seems to be in a deep conversation with one of his regulars. Eddie takes a moment to stare at you. There’s something different about you today, not only did you ditch your tight tops and short skirts for jean shorts and an oversized shirt with a band logo on the front, you also wear your hair differently today. Soft waves fall down your back and the front pieces of your hair are braided, you look cute today. Not seductive, just cute. Although, no matter what, you are always hot and sexy to him. 

He clears his throat and runs his hand through his hair, ignoring the stares and giggles of his friends. 

Walking up to you, he tries to ignore his pounding heart and the shakiness in his hands. He is nervous, always is when he talks to you. It’s not like that with other girls, if anything, he feels smug and flirts like his life depends on it when he gets the chance to flirt with a girl– usually that only happens when Corroded Coffin gets a chance to have a gig out of town, where no one knows him. He fucked his fair share of groupies and he sure as hell never felt nervous about that but you? You drive him crazy, you make him weak, you make him nervous, you make his heart race like crazy, you make him stutter, you’re just something else. 

Still trying to get the bartender’s attention, you sigh and roll your eyes, giving up, you sit down on the barstool. Eddie chuckles to himself, walking closer to you, he turns to look at the bartender, “Theo,” he calls out to the older man, who turns to look at him right away, “this pretty girl here wants to order another drink.” 

You turn to look at Eddie, you blush at the nickname and at the smile he gives you. 

‘You’re ridiculous..’ you think to yourself. You’ve had men call you other things before and yet none of them actually ever made you feel as flustered as he does– not that you would ever tell him that. 

“I’m sorry, sweets, I didn’t see you there,” Theo says, giving you an apologetic smile. 

“It’s alright,” you smile and order your drinks for you and Steve. Turning towards Eddie, you give him a small smile, “thanks for that,” you mumble. 

“No problem,” he smiles. 

“You come here often?” you ask. 

Eddie raises his brows and chuckles, “is that a pick up line?” he smirks. 

A laugh falls from your lips, “you’re funny, Munson,” you chuckle, “but no, that was not a pick up line. I’m just asking because you know his name,” you say, pointing to the bartender. 

“Oh, well, that’s actually a friend of Jeff’s dad and our band plays here every week,” he explains. 

“Right,” you smile to yourself, “corroded coffin.” 

Eddie’s eyes light up, “y-you know about my band?” 

“Of course, you played at the talent show, right?” 

He blinks in surprise, “yeah!” he smiles, “and now we play here every Tuesday.” 

“That’s cool.”

“You should come watch us.” 

“Maybe I will.”

You stare at each other for a moment and you quickly get lost in his eyes. Eddie is cute and very pretty, probably the prettiest person you have ever seen. You always liked that he is different from everyone else, while other people think that he is mean and scary, you know that there’s not a single scary thing about this man. One look into his eyes is enough for you to know that he is a sweet person with a soft and gentle heart. 

Eddie might think that he was invisible to you all this time but it’s not true, at all.  Of course you have noticed him around school, even before he tried to ask you out on a date. How could you not? He left big impressions everywhere he went and maybe there was a time where you had a tiny crush on him, even with the buzzcut and all. 

“Listen, I uh–” Eddie starts, not knowing how to say it without saying the wrong thing again. The last time you had an actual conversation, he ended up insulting you, making you think that he thinks that you’re a slut. Eddie would never think that though, “I-I just wanted to apologize.” 

You raise your brows in surprise, tilting your head, “what for?” 

“I– well, I was an asshole to you that one day, I didn’t mean to make you think that you’re a.. that you–”

“That I’m a slut?” you chuckle, looking at him in amusement. His cheeks are flushed and he looks embarrassed. 

He closes his eyes, shaking his head, “d-don’t say that, I don’t think that you’re… that,” he mumbles, “and I didn’t want you to think that I think that.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, I’d never think that of you.”

“Why not?” you ask, “everyone else thinks that of me.” 

“Well, I’m not everyone else.” 

Your gaze softens and your smirk falls, “no.. you’re not.” And that’s why you can’t be around him.

Eddie furrows his brows as he looks into your eyes. He expected you to tease him again or give him the cold shoulder. The usual coldness in your eyes is replaced by something else tonight. There is a sense of vulnerability lingering in your eyes. 

“Here you go,” Theo smiles, placing the drinks on the counter. 

You tear your eyes away from Eddie, thanking the bartender and placing the dollar bills on the counter, “you can keep the change,” you smile, grabbing the drinks, you’re about to go back to Steve but you halt in your tracks when you see another girl sitting in your spot, talking to your best friend. Great. 

Eddie turns around, glancing at what you’re frowning out, he finds Steve flirting with a brunette. Perfect. 

“Sweetheart, I think you got replaced,” he says, chuckling at your eyeroll. 

“Yeah, uh– not the first time tonight,” you mumble, pointing to Robin who is still talking to the same girl, “she found a.. new friend.” 

Eddie nods, staring at your friend before he turns back to you with a teasing smile on his face, “and you got two drinks now.” 

You know exactly what he is hinting at, smirking at him, “maybe I ordered them both for myself.” 

Raising his brows, “really? Two drinks just for you?” 

“Yeah,” you shrug. 

Shaking his head, he sits down next to you, “you could spend some time with me.” 

“What about your friends?” you ask, looking over his shoulder to find them staring at you with curious looks on their faces but they quickly look away after being caught, trying to act casual as they start talking to each other again. 

“Oh, they won’t miss me,” he grins. 

You squint your eyes, “did you make another one of those silly bets with them?” 

He blinks, scratching the back of his neck, he clears his throat, “listen, I didn’t ask you out for just that… I just wanted to ask you out in general.” 

You ignore the fluttering in your stomach. 

Sipping on your drink, you smile to yourself, “why?” you ask, pushing the other drinks towards him. 

His eyes light up and he accepts the drink with a smile. Finally, he gets to spend time with you. 

“Why did I ask you out?” 

You nod. 

“Well, I think you’re pretty cool,” he says, “considering you’re wearing a Metallica shirt,” he smiles, pointing to the shirt you’re wearing, “a-and you’re very pretty.” 

He raises the glass to his lips to take a sip. 

You move closer to him, your fingers brush against his, your bare knees bump against his as you lean in to whisper in his ear, “and I bet you wanna see me naked after our date, you wanna take me to your van and fuck me like I’m one of your filthy little groupies, huh?”

Eddie’s eyes widen and he almost spits out his drink as he starts choking. You giggle as you pull back to look at the shocked expression on his face. Those images invade his mind and he can’t help but feel his dick twitch in his pants. 

“Y/n!” he says through gritted teeth as he calms down again. 

“What?” you ask, still giggling. 

“Y-You can’t just do that!” 

“Why not?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. 

His eyes are wide, his cheeks are red and he gapes at you. 

“B-Because!” 

You roll your eyes, leaning back against the counter, “oh come on, Eddie. Don’t act all innocent. I know all about your groupies and dirty stories.” 

He looks taken aback and he stutters, a frown appearing on his face. Obviously, he didn’t want you to know about that, for some reason. 

“How do you know that?” 

You smirk at him, taking your time with the next sip before you place it back on the counter. You look around the bar before your eyes meet Gareth’s, you tilt your body to the side, waving at him with a smile on your face. 

Eddie furrows his brows and turns around to find Gareth waving back at you before a panicked look appears on his face when he sees the angry look on his best friend’s face. 

“Your friend has a big mouth, he told me a lot of things about your gigs. You are living the rockstar life already, huh?” you ask, “groupies, sex, alcohol. Are drugs a part of it yet?” 

Gareth, you asshole. 

He doesn’t know why he feels the need to explain himself but for some reason he feels embarrassed and bad about it. He hasn’t been with many girls, a few groupies here and there, it wasn’t even anything memorable. A blowjob or a quick fuck in some dirty bathroom wasn’t something special to remember and he quickly realized that it’s not something he wants to keep doing.

“Listen, it’s not like that. I’m not a–”

“Not a fuckboy?” you ask, chuckling, “don’t worry, I don’t judge. I get it, you’re attractive, girls throw themselves at you all the time, who would pass up on an opportunity like that?” 

His eyes widen, butterflies fluttering in his stomach, “you think I’m attractive?” 

Amusement flickers in your eyes and you smirk, “that’s all you heard?” 

He shrugs, smirking at you, “would you throw yourself at me if you didn’t know who I am? Would you be my groupie?” 

“If I didn’t know who you are?” you ask, ignoring the rest of the question. 

“Yeah, I mean that’s why you rejected me, right?” he asks, “because I’m a freak and you’d be embarrassed to be seen with me, people would talk.”

You frown at his words, that’s not it, that’s not it at all. 

“You’re not a freak,” you mumble, “and I don’t care about people or what they think.” 

“Then why did you reject me? I’m not mad or anything, just curious.” 

You avoid looking into his eyes, downing the rest of your drink before you place the empty glass back on the counter and get up. 

The disappointment is evident on his face but you can’t stay here any longer or else it will be harder to leave him later on. 

He still waits for an answer though, you sigh, a serious expression crosses your face, “because you’re not like the others,” you say as you look into his confused eyes. His lips part and he stares at you, not understanding what you mean by that. 

“I-In what way?” he asks. 

There was always something special about Eddie, being around him always felt so natural, there was a connection. Whenever one of you would walk into a room, your eyes would always find each other, it felt like there was a magnetic force between the two of you, it was difficult to stay away from him. No one has ever made you feel that way before and it scares you, knowing that he has the power to hurt you makes you wanna run away from him, you refuse to give him your heart, knowing that he will crush it eventually. 

“I’m just not interested in breaking your heart, Eddie.” 

He huffs, shaking his head, he grabs your hand before you can walk away. You tense up at the feeling of his touch. 

“Is that all you care about? Is that all you wanna do?” he asks, staring into your eyes, he tries to figure you out, “hurt people, break their hearts. Is that some kind of thing you get off to?” 

You’re taken aback by his words but you don’t show it, you don’t let him see the pain in your eyes or the shock. 

“Those people deserve it, don’t you think?” you snap.

What started off as a competition between you and Steve quickly turned into something bigger. The first heartbreak and the realization of what you had done and what you were able to do made you want to keep going. While Steve never cared what kind of girls he was hurting, you purposely only went for guys who were known to be heartbreakers and bullies. Not only did you manage to steal their hearts, you also gained their trust and they spilled all their secrets to you, especially when they were drunk. Their secrets were valuable, you used them all against them and they did everything you told them to do, even sparing a certain person from all their cruelty. 

Eddie frowns at your words. Yeah, maybe they do deserve it. You hurt people who hurt others, people like Billy and Jason but this can’t be your life forever. 

“Yeah but you deserve to be happy too, y/n.” 

You blink. 

Suddenly your heart feels heavy in your chest. Your dad, Steve and Robin all say the same thing to you and yet you can’t allow yourself to be happy, at least not in that way. 

“I am happy, Eddie.”

What a lie. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me–”

“No, please don’t go,” he pleads, not letting go of your hand just yet, “spend some time with me, please. I-I won’t flirt with you or anything, we can be friends, right?” he asks, staring at you with his beautiful eyes. 

You could never be just his friend but you can’t say no to him. Damn you, Eddie Munson and your stupid puppy eyes. 

You want to say yes, that you can be friends but in the end, you still end up shaking your head, “I-I gotta go…” you mumble. 

Eddie can tell that you don’t want to go, you want to stay and he wants you to stay too, so so bad but he lets you go nonetheless, he watches you walk away, he sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat.

“You trying to win that girl’s heart?” Theo chuckles as he takes in the lovestruck expression on Eddie’s face. 

Eddie blushes, shaking his head, “n-no… I’m not– that’s not what I’m trying to do..” 

The older man only laughs in response, shaking his head, “that’s exactly what you’re trying to do,” he grins.

“I– we barely know each other,” he lies. 

Eddie knows you, even if you aren’t close. He knows you. 

He knows that behind the walls you build up around you, is a girl that is too sweet and too good for this world, that’s why you put on this mean act, this heartless and cold girl. It’s to protect yourself from all this pain and destruction in this world. 

And there is more to it, so much more, he knows it, he can feel it and he can see it whenever he looks into your eyes. Others might not see it but Eddie does, he can see the pain in your eyes, you can’t hide it. Not from him. 

“And yet you look at her like she is your personal sun,” he chuckles. 

Eddie rolls his eyes, shaking his head, he tries to hide the blush on his face by looking down. 

“She looks at you the same way, boy,” he says before he walks off. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, “w-wait! What?”

-

The rest of the weekend goes by in a blur, probably because you spent all this time thinking about him. You hated it, hated the way he just took over your mind. Even now, when you are supposed to focus on class all you can do is think of him.

Feeling a pair of eyes on you, you turn to your right, sure enough, you find Eddie staring at you. His dark chocolate eyes bore into you, a shiver runs down your spine and you blush a little. 

His words echo in your mind, “we can be friends, right?” Maybe, you can be friends. Maybe. 

Eddie bounces his foot, playing with the rings on his fingers as he tears his eyes away from you. After he got the smallest taste of what it could be like to be your friend, it was even more difficult to stay away from you.

A crumpled piece of paper lands on his table and he furrows his brows in confusion, the two girls behind him immediately begin to whisper amongst each other, probably gossiping about him. Looking up, he finds you staring at him with a smug look on your face. 

Sighing, he looks down, folding the paper open, his eyes widen and his cheeks get even redder, heart fluttering in his chest– ‘You look so pretty today, Eddie. I love your shirt’

What? 

He blinks as he stares at the paper for what feels like forever. Blushing like crazy as he looks down at his old Def Leppard shirt.

He raises his head and turns to look at you, you flash him a sweet smile before you turn away from him. 

Your smile was enough to make his heart race in his chest. 

“What was that?” the girl behind him whispers. 

“Guess she’s going for the freaks now,” the other one giggles, “I mean, she must’ve gone through every popular guy at school.” 

“She’s just as much of a freak as he is, Sarah.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes at the girls behind him, drowning their voices out, he turns to take another glance at you. 

“You’ll be working in pairs for this project,” the teacher announces. Eddie raises his brows, head snapping towards the teacher. Project? What project? 

“You can choose your partner yourselves.” 

He looks at you, expecting you to get up to pick a partner but you don’t even bother, you just continue to draw something in your notebook. His heart starts racing as he thinks of asking you to be his partner, he should, right? Out of the corner of his eye, he notices someone getting up, Chase. Jason’s friend. He is looking right at you. ‘Yeah, not happening’ Eddie thinks to himself. Scrambling to his feet, he grabs his stuff and rushes towards you before Chase can, he looks at him with a smug face as he sits down next to you. 

Chase glares at him, clenching his jaw, he takes a look at you before he turns around to walk away. 

Eddie’s knee bumps against yours, he leans his elbow on the table, your eyes meet as you raise your head to look at him. A smirk tugs at your lips, “hi…. partner.” 

“H-Hi,” he stutters, “d-do you wanna be my partner?” 

You smile at his stuttering, “yeah, sure,” you chuckle, trying to act unfazed, like you aren't just as nervous as he is.

Eddie scratches the back of his neck and chuckles nervously, “u-uh, so.. what are we working on?” 

You snort, “you don’t listen to the teacher, do you?” 

He blushes, shaking his head, ‘I’m too busy staring at you,’ Eddie thinks to himself. 

“Me neither,” you giggle, “we can pick the topic ourselves though, we’ll figure something out.” 

He nods, trying not to stare too much. 

“Uh– so, should we meet up somewhere or..” he trails off, getting lost in your eyes. 

“Well, if you aren’t scared of my dad then you could come home with me after school.” 

He furrows his brows in confusion, “why should I be scared of your dad?” 

Your eyes flicker with amusement. Considering that your sister is dating one of his little sheep, you figured he knew who your dad is but it seems like he is clueless.

“Oh… no reason,” you chuckle as you picture the shocked look on his face when he sees you going to see your dad later. 

Eddie chuckles nervously, “you sure?” he asks. 

“Totally, I just don’t bring any guys home– well, except for Steve but he is just a friend.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, “and what am I.. to you?” he asks. 

A smile tugs at your lips as you notice the blush on his cheeks and the soft look in his eyes. You have to look away to stop your heart from fluttering, “you’re my cute project partner,” you giggle as you start gathering your stuff after the bell rings. 

Oh.

“Let’s go.” 

He snaps out of his thoughts, looking up, he notices you staring at him, waiting for him. 

He gulps nervously as he realizes that he is gonna be all alone with you. 

“Y-You know we could do this at my place,” he says, causing you to giggle. 

“Why, are you scared of being alone with me in my bedroom?” you smirk.  

Eddie’s blush deepens as one of the jocks who was just walking by, heard your words. Glaring at Eddie with a look on his face that he can just describe as jealousy. Suddenly, he feels smug, picking his stuff up, he grins at you, “let’s go.” 

As he walks through the hallways next to you, he notices all the stares, the odd and the jealous looks from the jocks. The angry glares from Jason’s friends. He knows he should probably feel nervous, knowing that they’ll only bully him even more out of jealousy but he can’t help but feel smug about it, smirking at them when you step even closer to him. 

“Did you drive to school?” he asks you. 

“No, Steve gave me and Robin a ride,” you say, glancing at him. 

The sunlight makes his eyes shine even brighter, butterflies swirl in your stomach as you look at each other. 

Oh no.

You tear your eyes away from him and look down at your shoes as you make your way towards his van. The sweet gentleman that he is, he opens the door for you, he smiles down at you, noticing the flustered look on your face.

He is surprised, after all the dates you have gone to, you must be used to this and yes, you are used to this. You are used to men pretending to be sweet and soft gentlemen but that’s all that it is; pretend. None of them are actually sweet, they just act like they are to get in your pants but it’s different with Eddie. 

“Thanks,” you say as you get into his van. Eddie smiles at you, closing the door, he walks around the van with an excited look on his face. You notice it and can’t help but smile. 

Disposable Heroes by Metallica is playing as you drive through the streets of Hawkins. Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, his other hand is resting close to your thigh and you can’t help but stare at the rings on his fingers. You can feel his eyes on you every once in a while, stealing glances whenever you are not looking. 

Eddie can’t believe that you are in his car. Even that always seemed like an unrealistic thing to even dream about but now you are here. Just a few days ago, he tried to make you stay, he tried to befriend you but you left, walked away from him the way you did before and now you’re here, with him, in his van.

Parking his van in your driveway, he notices another car standing there, it looks familiar but he can’t remember who it belongs to or who he had seen driving it. 

“Come on,” you say, smirking at him already. A look of mischief flickering in your eyes, he doesn’t know why but for some reason it makes him nervous, very nervous. 

“Don’t worry, daddy isn’t home,” you chuckle, “but my sister probably has friends over.” 

“You have a sister?” 

You hum, nodding your head. 

He grabs his backpack and follows you to your front door, allowing himself to stare at you and the way your skirt is hugging your ass so perfectly. 

You unlock the door and step inside, turning around, you welcome Eddie in with a smile on your face. 

He steps in and he is hit by the smell of chocolate chip cookies, the sound of chattering and pop music. He scrunches his face up at the sound of Madonna’s voice. 

Eddie looks around the hallway, pictures cover the wall, he recognizes the little girl in the picture, it’s you and a man he doesn’t recognize. 

“I’m home and I brought a guest!” you announce to whoever is in the kitchen. 

Eddie gulps, he doesn’t know why but his heart starts pounding in his chest as you take his hand in yours, leading him further into your house. He walks into the kitchen after you and his eyes widen when he finds  his neighbor sitting by the kitchen counter, flipping the page of a comic book and munching on a cookie. She raises her head as she notices two pairs of eyes on her, a smile appears on her face when she sees you before a frown settles on her face when she looks at Eddie. 

“What are you doing here?” she asks Eddie, causing you to chuckle. 

“Red is your sister?” Eddie asks surprised. 

You shake your head, “no–”

“I’m her sister.” 

Eddie turns to the girl who just walked into the kitchen from the living room, eyes widening even further. He stares at the brunette in shock, the look on his face is comical.

Mike’s girlfriend is your sister. 

He turns to look at you, you stare at him with an amused expression on your pretty face. 

Mike’s girlfriend is your sister. 

Jane Hopper. 

Jane Hopper is your sister, that means that Jim Hopper is your dad. 

“Oh, you little shit,” he mumbles under his breath as he grows even more nervous. 

He knows that you know that he was arrested a few weeks back. It was after a night out with the boys at the hideout. He was drunk and stumbled towards his van, he didn’t plan on actually driving, he just wanted to grab his keys for the trailer but Hopper caught him getting into the van, not believing Eddie when he told him that he didn’t want to drive. Eddie and his big mouth is what got him into trouble though, the chief got sick of him and arrested him but Eddie refused to spend one more time in a cop car or a cell, he managed to run off in handcuffs, which found home in his room now. 

Thanks to Wayne and his friendship with Jim, he got away with it and Eddie managed to avoid the chief but now here he is, standing in his house. 

“Hopper is your dad!?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you as they flicker with both anger and fear. 

Max giggles at the expression on his face. 

El looks at him in confusion and then turns to you, looking at you in question. 

You chuckle, “yeah, he’s my dad, don’t worry, he isn’t home.” 

Eddie sighs, “that doesn’t make me feel any better!” 

“What did you do this time, Eddie?” Max smirks. 

He sends her a glare. 

“Come on, you’re safe in my room,” you giggle, tugging at his hand.

“Are you sure you wanna be caught making out with Eddie?” Max giggles, looking at you smugly. 

El’s eyes widen, “you are dating him?” She asks you, “you finally have a boyfriend too?”

And suddenly, Eddie feels so much better when he sees the flustered look on your face, shaking your head, “no… no, he’s a… a.. friend.” 

Max snorts and looks back down at her comic, “right… friends always hold hands,” she mumbles. 

You quickly let go of his hand and he chuckles, “we’re not friends, I’m just your cute project partner, that’s what you said, right?” he smirks at you. 

You glare at him and Max and El giggle at the look on your face. Eddie looks smug as he stares into your eyes. 

You are blushing like crazy. 

‘Oh, this is going to be fun,’ Eddie thinks to himself. 

-

Taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @aftermidnightwriting @emma77645 @aysheashea @spookycreepycookie @vintagehellfire @lfaewrites @zoeymunson @tlclick73 @hanobe8

[wintrrrsoldier]

sooo i don’t write fics but i sure as hell love to daydream and i was thinking about the scene where steve is asking eddie where’d he’d learn to hot wire a car and eddie finishes the explanation by saying he’s “really living up to the munson name” or something like that right?

now i’m just sitting here thinking about eddie taking his significant others last name when they decide to get married cause he likes it better than his own and i just 😫😫

if anyone feels like writing a blurb or something that’s like this i’d literally combust. like full imma give them a smooch cause i feel like this would heal my soul

[wintrrrsoldier]

Cruel Summer - Part One

- Next

pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: After breaking up, you and Eddie do your best to soldier on with your lives, but you slowly begin to discover that there is a stronger line of connection keeping you together than just history...

word count: 5k

warnings: ANGST (the most dramatic babies you've ever seen) mentions of death/dying, swearing, breaking up (so sorry if I forgot anything!)

A.N.: First part of the Babysitter!reader series! I just broke up with someone so you're getting angsty sorry not sorry byyyyyyeee

Your breakup with Eddie was bad. As bad as any teenage horror story of doomed summer romances you’d heard talk of over the course of your adolescence. Bad because you’d always laughed at those couples who went from mooning hopelessly over one another, unequivocally mad for the enduring nature of their love, only to stand in fits of wailing despair when it ended as quickly and passionately as it began. Bad because that was never going to be you, and then suddenly it was. It left you standing hideously exposed, the rosy haze of the life you’d lived enveloped in his everything suddenly lifted to leave you blinking stupidly under a spotlight, fumbling to explain yourself to the crowd. 

You try to fool yourself into thinking it wasn’t that bad – it’s only the end of your first real relationship, your first real love, you’re first real anything – hoping that somehow saying it will make it true. You rub yourself raw trying to cocoon yourself in the lie. 

It was that bad, worse, even, because you didn’t see it coming. Movies had told you that your first love was meant to be an enduring thing, forever if you were careful with it, and that true love was the most powerful force in the universe. You could move mountains and heaven and earth with true love, you could bring back the dead with but a gentle word and a kiss. With true love? You could do anything.

You couldn’t do shit with what was left of Eddie’s love. 

A spectacle such as the fallout of a high school relationship is something to behold akin to a volcanic eruption. Toxic to the point of choking anyone within a twelve-foot radius of the poisonous ex-lovers, leaving radioactive trails in their wake. You swore you’d never be foolish enough to lose your mind over someone like that, open yourself up to the kind of hurt that could push you to madness when it was over too soon. Star-crossed lovers turned mortal enemies as the people in their lives take petty sides and do their utmost to tarnish the reputations of the one they once revered. 

Real Romeo and Juliet shit, only the really real version, where they don’t get the opportunity to martyr themselves for love, and one day they realize in spite of everything they are still Capulets and Montagues, and the rivalry lives on, made all the more putrid by a love that has overstayed its welcome. 

You always told yourself you were too smart for that kind of nonsense, and yet you’d loved Eddie Munson completely, madly and unequivocally, with every inch of every particle in your body, and you’d foolishly thought he felt the same. 

You should have seen it coming.

Some tiny, rational part of you had told you not to go see him. You knew you had to babysit tonight, but you’d been too caught up in the fires of your righteous indignation to heed your rational mind.

It’s not every day your boyfriend skips your graduation ceremony and proceeds to avoid you for the better part of the following month. All you’d wanted was a sign of life, an explanation, any kind of answer as to what the hell was going on, and by God had you gotten one.   

You do your best not to fall apart as you make your way across town, though if you cared enough to take a look at yourself in any passing reflective surface you would see that you’re doing a piss poor job at that. Your face is pinched tight and streaked with tears, and every odd breath comes in a ragged sob. Your chest aches with a sharp, lancing pain that hurts so terribly you would not be surprised to look down and find that you were bleeding. You imagine the dark, crimson trail you must be leaving, like gorey breadcrumbs one could follow all the way through town back to the Forest Hills trailer park. 

You wish you’d thought to drive, then at least you could have broken down in the relative privacy of your car, but you’d wanted the walk to gather your thoughts, to prepare yourself for whatever it was that had kept Eddie so distant from you. Now, subjected to a different kind of walk of shame, your mind is buzzing with the concept of insult to injury. 

You imagine you must be quite the sight to behold. 

It’s dark by the time you reach your neighborhood, and well past the agreed-upon time when you knock at the Henderson’s front door. 

A cursory glance at your watch sends a violent spasm of alarm lancing through your midsection.

You’re late. You’ve never been late before. 

It's just another piece of Eddie you’re going to have a very hard time extracting, like a shard of glass from the bottom of your foot.  

You try to make yourself presentable in the brief interval between your knocking and Mrs. Henderson’s answering, scrubbing at your eyes and taking deep breath after deep breath. All it accomplishes is to streak your already running eye makeup and push you towards hyperventilating. You are noticeably out of breath when the door finally swings inward, bathing you in golden light. 

You imagine you are not the picture of an angel she'd expected, standing there, white-knuckling the strap of your bag, sweating in the August heat, and doing your utmost to look somewhere halfway to normal.

You try not to notice the way Mrs. Henderson’s round, cherubic face falls a little when she claps eyes on you.

Her voice is laced with saccharine concern as she says your name in a way that has you teetering on the edge of breaking down again. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” you start, choking on the lump swelling in your throat. “I was— I just—“ In a panic, you bite the excuse off before it can cross the threshold of your lips. 

What had you even planned to say? I’m sorry I’m late, Mrs. Henderson, but you see, my stupid boyfriend just got finished curb-stomping my heart into a pulpy mess and I’m just a bit upset? 

Ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself with a sobering start. He doesn’t love you anymore. 

You feel like you could cry again. 

“Time got away from me,” you mumble, tugging sheepishly at the sleeves of your ill-advised cardigan.

In spite of the state of you, Mrs. Henderson brightens and dismisses the notion with a flippant wave. 

“Oh, don’t be silly! You’re here now, that’s what matters – come in!” 

You follow her over the threshold and into the living room in a haze, depending entirely upon familiarity and muscle memory to get you on track, going through the motions of setting down your bag on the kitchen island as you have hundreds of times before.

Still, you can feel yourself slipping and begin groping for familiarity in the dark, anything to anchor you to this moment: warm wood paneling tinted orange by incandescent light bulbs, dated shag carpet half worn down to threads in the grooves of routine living, frigid air conditioning blasting down on you, flash drying the sweat beading across your neck and shoulders. You blink and watch colors run into each other like crayons in the sun, and breathe deep the strong tang of air freshener covering the faintest hint of a cat somewhere in the house.

You lie to yourself that you're going to be fine as you pluck at a loose string hanging from the fraying hem of your cutoff shorts. 

You are vaguely aware of Mrs. Henderson speaking somewhere very far off in the distance.  

“Dusty, look who’s here!”

You don’t really hear her, you’re still standing at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Munson trailer, watching the door ease open after you’d pounded on it. 

Eddie had blanched and physically recoiled upon seeing you, confirming your suspicions that he was hiding from you. 

“What the fuck, dude.” had been the only thing you’d been able to get out, hurt feelings mixing with anger in a potent combination that had you brimming with angry tears. 

You’d watched Eddie hesitate at the door, very clearly considering going right back inside and shutting you out again before he heaved a sigh that carried the weight of the world. The anger that welled in you was poisonous.  

Two years of your life washed down the drain in less than twenty minutes. Time wasted. It makes you want to scream.

The next four words you’d spoken ring out, though not in your own voice. 

“Where have you been?” Dustin asks, bringing you back to where you stand in the Henderson’s living room. “We were worried sick!” 

He’s got his hands on his hips as he stares at you, his tie-dye shirt undulating beneath the warm lights and making you feel like you’re swaying. 

His mother is quick to scold him for the audacity of his outburst. 

“Dusty.” She warns, tut-tutting him with a slow shake of her head. 

Mrs. Henderson had never been much of a disciplinarian. 

Dustin makes an incredulous sound and throws up his hands in a way that paints the picture of a mother who has been sitting up, waiting for a wayward child out well past curfew. It would be halfway funny if you had the capacity to laugh.

He slumps moodily into the couch cushions as his mother brightens again and turns to regard you as you slip further out of your body. 

“We’ve gotta stop kidding ourselves.” Eddie says somewhere very far away, “This thing has pretty much run its course…” 

Mrs. Henderson clasps her hands together and breathes out like she’s preparing to dive into an overlong speech. 

“Okay, you know all the emergency contacts, the house rules, I should be back by 11:30...” She says, trotting back and forth across the living room to collect her purse and keys, all the while chattering away, giving the same babysitting spiel she went through every time you stopped over to make sure Dustin didn’t burn the house down.

You nod absently and bid her farewell as she slips out the door, and you feel the bite of pins and studs from Eddie’s battle-vest in the palms of your hands as you shove him. 

“Why are you doing this?” You cry, your voice is tight and quavers, threatening to fail before you can even put up any kind of a fight. You’re half blind from the tears collecting at your lashes, “You can’t just—” You choke on the sob welling in your throat. “What happened— Eddie—Baby, just talk to me. Please. We can move past it, whatever it is we can fix it if you just let me—”

He rubs at the back of his neck and rocks back on his heels, like he’s desperate to get away from the situation and it’s taking every fiber of his being to make himself stay. 

“Please don’t make this harder than it already is.” He huffs, his voice trembling.

The silence in the living room is punctuated by the muffled sound of Mrs. Henderson’s receding footsteps, followed by the clunk of a car door slamming shut and the rumble of the engine starting. Headlights paint the walls through the front window in a burst of white, and just like that she’s gone. You’re stuck staring out across the street at your house, sitting dark and empty. Your parents aren't home... they're never home, that's why Eddie always comes over... Suddenly, you have to fight the urge to run out the door and retreat to the sanctity of your bedroom, like maybe you'll find him there, and you'll discover you imagined the whole thing.

All you want is to crawl under the covers and disappear from the world entirely, but there are too many artifacts of your relationship scattered across the expanse of your bedroom. Polaroids, mix tapes, band-tees, memories. You wonder with stark despair whether you’re ever going to be able to set foot in your bedroom again. It feels perhaps a tad overdramatic, but there’s so much of Eddie in you now, so much of his personality blended with yours, that it feels like an appropriate response. "Drama" may as well have been Eddie's middle name – his middle name is Joseph, you think absently, and suddenly you don’t know what you’re going to do with that kind of intimate information. 

You aren’t exactly sure if you’re failing to grasp the situation or just plain rejecting it, but you refuse to accept that Eddie is trying to end your relationship over what essentially equates to nothing, and the fight it has kicked up is arguably the worst thing either of you has ever been through. 

Despair turns him mean. He’s pacing and carding his hands through his hair like he can’t stand it, like he’s about to fly apart at the seams, and somehow it’s your fault.  

“What do you want me to say?” Eddie snaps, face wet with tears, “What— you want me to tell you I don’t love you anymore? Is that what you want?" When you fail to answer he takes a step toward you and suddenly he's shouting, "Tell me what I can say to make you understand that this is over!” 

You shake your head in defiance and openly sob, hands crossed over one another, pressed flat to the left side of your chest where you feel the pain of a phantom wound, gaping, bloody, and raw. Your strident refusal to answer the terrible question speaks for itself, and it wrenches a sob from somewhere deep inside Eddie. For the briefest of moments, he crumples, crushing the heels of his palms into his eyes in a way that is so heartbreakingly boyish you have to stop yourself from trying to hug him.

For a long moment, it’s all either of you can do but stand there, watching the other fall apart and hating each other for it. 

Finally, Eddie breathes out hard like he’s trying to calm down. It doesn’t work. 

“Okay,” He sniffs, voice trembling as he swipes the back of his hand across his nose, “Fine, I can do that– be the bad guy? If that’s what it takes...” 

You shake your head and can’t help but take a tentative step toward him. Then another, and another, until suddenly you’re toe to toe with him.

“Don’t…” you plead, your voice is small and very nearly doesn’t make it through the vice that has your throat. “Please don’t…”  His hands are shaking as you reach for them, his brows knit together and the corners of his mouth turn down in a mask of devastation. 

“I don’t love you anymore.” He says softly, forcing the words out like it physically hurts to say them. 

They embed themselves in you like little shards of glass and suddenly you've taken to bleeding, but you don’t believe him. You think you wouldn't be able to make yourself believe him if your life depended on it, even if it was true, because you loved him so much it hurt. So much you felt like this could very possibly kill you if he didn't stop. How could he not feel the same? How could this not be killing him the way it was killing you?

You knit your fingers desperately in the front of his shirt. 

“You don’t mean it — please don’t say that.”

You try to meet his gaze, like maybe if you can make him see you, really see you, it might stop this, but he won’t look at you. You have to bite back the violent urge to damn him for his cowardice.

Eddie shakes his head, dark curls dancing around his face as he gets caught on a sharp intake of breath.

“I don’t fucking love you anymore.” His voice breaks.

“Yes you do!” you shout, shoving him hard enough to send him staggering back a pace. “Why are you doing this, what the fuck is wrong with you—”

Eddie hangs his head as new tears roll down his face to collect at the point of his chin and suddenly you can’t decide if you’re more angry or heartbroken as you reach for him again. You know you're babbling, but you're desperate to say anything that might somehow get through to him to make him abandon this terrible crusade. 

Eddie won't hear you. He shrugs out of your touch and shakes his head again, crossing his arms over his chest to hug his biceps like it’s the only sense of security he has. All the fight has gone out of him.

It's over...

“Are you okay?” Dustin asks from where he’s sat on the couch. 

You turn slowly and blink at him, feeling suddenly like you’ve been submerged in water, swaying on your feet with the tide. You’d almost completely forgotten he was there.

He’s staring at you with the most intense mask of concern you’ve ever seen on him. It’s a strangely sober look for Dustin, somehow too world-weary for the little boy you’d thought you knew so well. 

You realize a bit too late that he’d asked you a question. You know you need to respond if only to keep up appearances, but you feel wrong, like you’ve been pulled out of your body and had something else stuffed back in that is trying very hard – and failing – to emulate a human being. It makes you feel like you’re going to be sick.  

“I’m good.” You lie. “I’m really really good. In fact, I’m great.” 

He furrows his brows and you know immediately you’d pushed it too much.

You’re bad, you’re so so bad. In fact, you’re terrible.

“O-kay…” He clearly doesn’t believe you, but he seems too preoccupied with something else to care much about it.

Dustin fidgets with his fingers, twisting the digits and picking at the skin of his nail beds like he’s become suddenly nervous in your presence.

“So… listen,” He starts, “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.” 

You hear the words, but not in Dustin’s voice. 

Eddie has walked you out to the empty jungle gym standing in the middle of the trailer park. Before the fight, before the violent implosion of your relationship, before he says the words he can never take back, he slumps against the rusted metal structure and stuffs his hands in his pockets, casting his gaze down to the divet in the earth he makes with the toe of his dingy sneaker.

“We need to talk…” He says, and you feel yourself getting pulled swiftly down into the dark... deeper under the water. 

The pressure makes your head swell. 

From the beginning, everyone had warned you Eddie was going to break your heart. Friends, family, even teachers, as inappropriate as that advice had been. It always made you angry, determined to prove them wrong. Maybe it had started as an act of rebellion, leaning hard into a relationship that was evidently no good for you, but none of them knew how Eddie was sweet, and kind, and fun and funny and everything but what everyone warned you he would be. 

You hate that in the end, he was the one who had made them right. Self-fulfilling prophecies and all that bullshit.  

The end… 

Just the notion of it is enough to send you teetering over the edge of hysteria. Something wells up from the aching spot behind your lungs, like a balloon filling with water, blocking your windpipe and threatening to suffocate you. Your ribs crack and you feel yourself begin to bleed again as it swells to the point of pain. You feel like you’re about to burst. 

The words are spilling out over your lips before you have the good sense to realize you should excuse yourself before you have a breakdown in the middle of the Henderson’s living room.

“Hold that thought, Dusty, just for one second,” You gasp, turning and practically sprinting for the bathroom down the hall. 

You shut the door behind you and rip one of the fluffy white towels Mrs. Henderson keeps down from the rack and cram your face into the thick terry cloth. For a moment there is nothing, then a sharp intake of breath before you’re screaming, as loud and as long as you can before your head starts to swim. The sound is mercifully muffled by the fibers. It catapults you into a memory from last spring. 

You’re sitting on your bed, knees pulled up to your chest, absolutely fuming over the injustice of something completely trivial – a poor grade on a test, an undeserved reprimand, the specificities of it don’t matter, because Eddie is there, and he still loves you, sitting cross-legged on the bed, doing his best to lift your spirits. 

Your toes are tucked neatly beneath his thighs and he’s got his hands around your calf, tapping out a guitar riff there. As casual a gesture as it may have seemed, it’s suddenly so intimate and you’re struck with a pang of grief as you realize you’re never going to be that close to him again.

“Jesus, I’m so mad I could scream.” You huff, the angry lump in your throat makes you feel like you’d tried to swallow a softball.

Eddie tilts forward and crosses his arms over your knees, hugging you there. 

“Do it.” He says, ghosting his lips over the exposed skin poking through a tear in your jeans, “Let’s see what those pipes can do.”

You cast a dour look his way and wire your jaw shut, beginning a mental count of all the reasons you can’t just start screaming in the middle of a suburban neighborhood. You’re not supposed to have boys over and if you scream your mom will come running and flip her lid, someone might call the cops … it’s going to be too loud?

As if he’d anticipated your excuses, Eddie pushes up and snatches one of the pillows you sit nestled among at the head of your bed, tucking it into the space between your knees and your chest. 

“Scream into the pillow.” He instructs, patting the creases flat in a way that feels gentlemanly. 

When you level him with an unimpressed look he rolls his big dark eyes and takes the pillow back. 

“Like this,” Deep breath, and the muffled smack of his face hitting the pillow before there is the faintest sound of Eddie screaming theatrically into the fabric and goose down. You bite your lip to keep from giggling and remind yourself that you’re supposed to be furious, indignant, incensed even. Hard to keep up that facade when you’re dating someone like Eddie, who would more than likely combust into flames if he tried to go a full day without doing something entirely absurd and unhinged just to make you laugh.

When he’s done screaming, Eddie is red-faced, hair wild and brows furrowed beneath the curly fringe that falls across his forehead. There is a thin line of spit, grossly drawn out from the semi-damp pillowcase to where it is attached to the plump flesh of his bottom lip. He severs the connection with a swipe of his tongue and makes a show of coughing and spluttering, fishing a stay feather from his mouth. You snort with laughter. 

He grins that Cheshire Cat smile of his, cheeks indenting with dimples, and shoves the pillow back towards you. 

“You’re up, Babycakes.” He says.

You recoil with playful disgust, “Gross, no way!” 

“Why not?” He asks, furrowing his brows in a way that conflicts with the wide stretch of his mouth.

“You just slobbered all over it!”

Eddie narrows his eyes at you, and suddenly there is the faintest hint of mischief glinting there. You meet his gaze, tentatively waiting for whatever appalling thing he is about to say. 

“Like that’s ever bothered you before.” He says. 

It’s relatively tame in the grand scheme of things, but the way his eyebrows jump with innuendo has you blushing. 

“Eddie!”

“Ed-die!”

Your mouth falls open in a gasp as he mimics you, pitching his voice up to mock you, absolutely scandalized.  

His pretty doe eyes sparkle with delight and you take the opportunity to snatch the pillow from him, only to whip it around and whack him upside the head. The pillow explodes in a snowy cloud of feathers, and the next thing you know he’s surged forward, and you’re screaming with laughter, bracing your hands against his chest and shoulders to try and hold him at bay as he licks a fat wet stripe up the side of your face.       

The towel in the Henderson’s bathroom is perhaps as effective a buffer as a pillow, it certainly does a better job at mopping up your tears as you release yourself from the cotton prison, red-faced and breathless. You’ve left dark smudges on the white fabric where your tears have made your eyeliner run, more than it already has. You only manage to feel slightly bad about that, suppressing a pitiful whimper as you turn on the faucet and splash your face with cold water. You’re hoping the shift in temperature might force you into some kind of hard reset, bring you back to your senses, but you’re not so certain it’s going to work this time. 

Eddie taught you to do that. 

“Helps with panic attacks,” he’d said at the time, rubbing your back and speaking soft, gentle words to you as you stood with your head in the bathroom sink.  

The foolish tragedy of breaking up is that everything reminds you of Eddie. Every inch of this town, your house, your bedroom, your own goddamn body is laced with him. You feel raw, and despite this being your first real heartbreak, somehow you know even after you get over him, if you ever get over him, you’re never gonna be the same again.  

You hate how you suddenly understand all those sappy love songs, all those foolish people standing in not so private corners of very public spaces, wailing about how they thought someone had loved them while everyone looks on in varying degrees of concern. Therein lies the problem of giving yourself over to someone so completely, loving them entirely. 

I thought he loved me. 

You slump to the cold tile floor and hug your knees to your chest. 

You tell yourself you could leave, should leave, pick up and start over somewhere new, somewhere quiet and untainted by the echoes of him. Your memories are loud and pervasive and every one of them revolves around him, foolishly, as if he is all you’ve ever known. 

You could just leave… It’s sorely tempting, you’ve graduated, no immediate plans on the horizon… newly single? There’s nothing holding you here –you quietly wonder if that was Eddie’s aim, but you’re still too upset to give him that much credit– you even allow yourself to begin a flight of fancy, entertaining an escape from Hawkins, from Indiana entirely. Then you remember the way he had cradled your face in his hands as he extracted himself from your life. 

“There’s nothing for you here. This goddamn town is gonna suck the life out of you if you don’t get out.” 

If you leave Hawkins now, that means Eddie wins, despite the fact that you’d been so painfully unaware it was even a competition. You suppose that this is how it starts, the taking sides, the tearing down one’s reputation. You can just imagine yourself, maybe a year from now, in a new town with new friends, going on and telling stories about how your ex was such a fuck up, a total man-child, couldn’t even graduate high school… He was a guitarist in this really shitty metal band and played this stupid fantasy game every weekend with a bunch of kids, that’s weird right? What a freak. You could knock the teeth out of that version of you for being so cruel. 

He’s not a freak, you insist to no one in particular, He’s wonderful and generous and … and and and? …And he doesn’t love you anymore. 

You thump your head against the bathroom cabinet and heave a sigh as you remember that you’re here in the house for a reason. 

Dustin is waiting on you. 

With a heavy sigh, you push up from the floor on shaky legs and turn back to regard yourself in the mirror. 

It’s fine, I’m fine, we’re fine…

And you are. There’s no gaping wound in your chest, no bloodstains streaking down your front. You breathe deep and tell yourself that you really are fine, a little red and puffy in the face, and feeling very much like you’ve been hollowed out, like carving a pumpkin, but fine enough to sit and watch movies with Dustin for a few hours at least. It’s just a breakup. People break up every day. All you have to do is hold your shit together until midnight – you glance at your watch – just four hours and then you can fall apart, rant and rail, and rave and tear down the walls if that’s what it takes.

You take a deep, steadying breath, count backward from three, and whip the door open, doing your best to plaster what you hope is a genuine smile across your face.

"Okay kiddo, you wanna watch a movie or something?" You call as you head down the wall.

You’re fine. You’re going to be fine.     

[wintrrrsoldier]

A simple place where I can update things!

As You Wish series

Where the Heart Is series

Big Brown Eyes series

You Belong With Me | Hesitate

The Wyvern

New Outfit

Wrong Crush | Double date with Will

Man of My Dreams | Sleeping Beauty

Love Comes Walking In | Road Trip

Mommy Issues

Birthday Girl | Birthday Boy

Cold Turkey

Eddie’s Girl

Keep reading

[wintrrrsoldier]

The Eddie Munson Tape Dates

(with Sunbeam and Moonbeam universe from Fire)

In the fanfic series Fire, Eddie has a box of tapes and each one is a date he's planned out for you. I decided to write a few up. In the end all of them. The first of which is directly from Fire

Tape = Iron Maiden, 'Powerslave' (First official tape date which is Ch 12 of Fire)

Tape = Accept, 'Balls to the Wall' (Takes place directly after the end of Fire)

Tape = Judas Priest, 'British Steel'

Tape = Venom, 'Welcome to Hell'

Tape = Motorhead, 'Ace of Spades'

Tape = Metallica, 'Ride the Lightning'

Tape = Black Sabbath, 'Paranoid'

Tape = Mercyful Fate, 'Don't Break the Oath'

Tape = Black Sabbath, 'Black Sabbath'

Tape = Metallica, 'Kill 'Em All'

Tape = Black Sabbath, 'Heaven and Hell'

Tape = Dio, 'Holy Diver'

Tape = Black Sabbath, 'Master of Reality'

[wintrrrsoldier]

𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗲 | tom (make up) x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | you and tom have been two peas in a pod for your entire lives: tommy and birdie, partners in crime. you only fell in love with him a few years ago, though. maybe he'll notice sometime before you die of old age... but probably not.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 15.8k (oops)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only, dry humping, handjob, unprotected sex/loss of virginity, fingering, oral f receiving), alcohol consumption and tobacco use, best friends to lovers, angst, pining, fluff, tom and reader lacking braincells, extreme cornish, protectiveness/jealousy, There Was Only One Bed, I can't stress enough how fucking stupid these two are, truly no braincells detected in this entire fic

(title's after the song by the greeting committee <3 will always be the song that makes me think of tom the most)

YOU DON'T NEED TO SEE THE MOVIE TO READ THIS! plot of the film is totally discarded lmaooo

author's note part 2: there's a moment where the reader mentions that sometimes people think her and tom are siblings, she does not necessarily mean that they look alike! she means that they ACT like siblings and could be related through adoption or marriage-- her appearance isn't described and it's left open-ended for anyone to insert themselves ❤️

before we get started, I'm including a convenient cornish dictionary for you all to use if you're not already familiar with the dialect! other terms might pop up but they'll be explained in the text

teazy - acting grumpy or throwing a tantrum; something you might say to a kid having a fit or an adult who is being childishly negative

tuss - insult referencing male genitals; similar to 'knob' or 'dick' in UK and US english

my 'ansum - common, platonic greeting for men ("my handsome")

my bird - common, platonic greeting for women

rich - lovely, endearing, or beautiful

diddy? - a phrase used to mean 'is that true?' or 'really?'; diddah? and issuh? mean the same thing

wasson? - a greeting; short for "what's going on?"

jumping - very angry

hanging - terrible, gross

scat - (NOT WHAT YOU'RE THINKING lol) to push or fight someone

geek - a quick look; you can 'take a geek' at something

“Leave off, m'fine." Tom crinkled up his nose as he tried to brush your hands away, but you fought to keep dabbing the cuts on his face with the washcloth.

"Fine?  You look like you lost a fight," you frowned.

"Well, we won the match, so," he smiled, but winced when you went back to the cut just above his eyebrow.  “Fuck off, that hurts!”

“Couldn’t hurt as much as it did when you got it,” you insisted.  “C’mon, it’ll scar if you don’t let me clean it up right.”

“So?  I thought the lasses liked scars,” he grinned.  “Makes me look tough.”

“Makes you look like you got your arse handed to you.”

Tom really wasn’t built for rugby.  Though he certainly wasn’t in bad shape, he was the slimmest of all the guys he played with; he was fast, he had that going for him, but the poor kid got pummelled every time he played.

“Wish you wouldn’t go out there,” you mumbled, one of those rare times that you admitted how much you hated seeing him get hurt.

“Wish you wouldn’t worry about me when I can take care’a meself,” he replied.

And that was how it had always been— Tom was just reckless like that, and you had to try to reign him in as best you could.  You could remember so many nights spent this way, you trying to scold him enough that he might be a little more careful; but considering you’d been doing this since you were just little kids, you eventually gave up on trying to stop him and just decided to be there when he needed a little comfort.

You might’ve always been Tom’s greatest comfort.  So many things in life are uncertain, temporary, fleeting.  Not you; you’d always been there, as long as he could remember— even longer, really.  And not just because he had a shit memory from all those rugby concussions.  

“Aren’t you worried you’ll look beat up in all our holiday photos?” you asked him, speaking quietly since you were so close to his face to treat his injuries.

“Why’d that bother me?” he shrugged.  “You think I’m gonna be lookin’ at me own stupid mug in photos?”

“Don’t say that,” you shoved him on the shoulders as he laughed, leaning back into the couch.  “You’ve got a nice mug, if you didn’t get it all mucked up.”

“You think m’pretty then?” he cooed sarcastically, putting his hand under his chin and batting his eyelashes; you giggled and shoved him harder, this time knocking you both back until he was laying on the couch and you were on top of him.

“Yeah, pretty daft,” you replied, and he snorted.

“Fuck off,” he rolled his eyes, wrapping his arms around your back.

“Lemme go, need to get a bandage for your face,” you explained as you squirmed.

“Nuh uh,” he denied your request, “not letting you up— sorry, birdie.”

“Tommy!” you whined through a laugh, struggling harder against him, but he just held you tighter and grinned down at you.  Giving up, you made a pouty face and rested your chin on his chest.  He mimicked your expression, mocking you until you frowned for real and gave up, turning your face again to lay your cheek down on his shirt.

He gave you a kiss on top of your head, and you let your eyes fall shut.

“Maybe just a little rest,” you decided, your voice already slurring— you were more tired than you thought.

“Mhm,” he agreed, brushing his fingers over your hair.  “Just a little, huh?”

You nodded groggily.  

“Alright— sleep tight, birdie…”

You were only tired because you’d been up way too late, packing for your trip to St. Ives with your and Tom’s families.  Joint vacations were nothing new to the two of you— actually, his parents and yours had been taking trips together since before the two of you were born.  There were pictures of you and Tommy, chubby little babies in your mums’ arms, riding on the London Eye; you’d watched a home video a few times where you were playing in the sand together at a beach in Valencia.  You weren’t sure why they felt the need to fly all the way to Spain for beaches when there were plenty here in Cornwall… but, case in point, this trip was going to be a much more relaxed (and budget-conscious) one: a roadtrip across the county, a couple rooms at a beach-side inn, and some much needed time in the sun for the next week.  Tom promised to teach you how to surf, though you weren’t sure you’d be able to figure it out anyways— but you looked forward to trying.  Really, you looked forward to Tom’s hands on your waist as he tried to help you find your balance.

Truth be told, despite being secretly in love with him since you were fourteen, you never really expected anything to happen with Tommy.  You were like brother and sister— even his parents treated you like a daughter, and vice versa— and you’d always been so close.  There’s always that fear of confessing to someone you’re close with and ruining the friendship, but this was even worse than that.  If you lost Tom, you’d lose everything.

So, it wasn’t sad— there wasn’t a lot of pining anymore, not many nights spent gushing into your diary about it and then crying yourself to sleep because he got a new girlfriend or something.  It was peaceful now, the one-sidedness of it.  You loved him, he didn’t notice, everything went on as usual and that was it.  You kept dating other guys, though Tom never liked any of them, and he dated other girls that you pretended to get along with until they split after a couple weeks.

In fact, dating was the topic of the hour as you and Tom sat in the back of his dad’s suburban, trying to entertain yourselves on the long drive to the beach resort you’d be staying at.

“That girl Dani,” you remembered, focusing most of your attention on a sudoku from the book you’d brought for the trip.  “She was fit— why’d you break up again?”

“Too clingy,” Tommy shrugged, not looking back at you; he was toying with the friendship bracelet around his wrist, the one you’d made for him at summer camp when you were eleven with blue and yellow and black chevrons.  Since you gave it to him, you’d never seen him without it, which is why the colours were all faded and dirty now, and why you were glad you made it adjustable all those years ago… he certainly outgrew the original size by now.

“I thought that was Claire,” you recalled.

“Oh, her too,” he nodded.

“This seems to be a problem for you,” you noticed, “clingy girls.  What does that even mean?”

“Means they get, like, possessive,” he clarified, holding his hands up almost like a motion of choking someone.  “Wanna know what you’re doing all the time, want a text every half hour— it’s too much.”

“That just means they like you, Tommy,” you rolled your eyes.  “You shouldn’t dump girls over that.”

“They usually dump me,” he corrected.

“What?!” you squeaked, before you cleared your throat when you noticed what your utter disbelief might imply.

“Guess they just get, I dunno, jealous?” he explained, crinkling his nose as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck.

“Jealous?” you repeated, looking away from the page in front of you for the first time.  The way he was looking at you— head tilted to the side, one eyebrow raised and mouth in a small frown— you realised what he meant.  “Of me?”

“Well, yeah,” he mumbled, “I mean, we spend so much time together.”

“But we’re just friends,” you noticed.

“That’s what I try to tell them!” he insisted.  “I mean, I say that you’re my best mate and all but I don’t even think of you like that— c’mon, I’d never…”

You looked back at the half-solved sudoku, letting out a sigh that you hoped you could pull off as frustration with the number grid before you.

“Guess they don’t believe me,” he concluded, “or they don’t care.”

“They must think it’s bound to happen one day,” you posited.  “That we’ll get together, I mean.”

“Yeah— but don’t you think if it was gonna happen, it would’ve happened already?” he pointed out.

You bit your lip.  “Yeah,” you agreed curtly.

"Hey— whatever happened to that lad with the crooked teeth you liked so much?" Tommy asked.

"You'll have to be more specific," you huffed, keeping your eyes trained on your puzzle.

"He had specs and a freckle right on the end of his nose," Tommy continued.

"Oh yeah!  Frank," you reminded him of the boy's name.  "What, did you actually approve of him or something?"

"Course not," Tommy scoffed.  "Jus' wondering, 'cause you used to go on about him all the time— 'bout how he was so wonderful and all." Tommy rolled his eyes, just to make sure it was perfectly clear that he didn't approve.

"Erm, well," you stalled, "yeah, haven't talked to him in a while."

Tommy wouldn't buy an excuse like that from you, he knew you far too well.  Leaning in, he titled his head to try to get a view of your face.  "Did something happen with him?" he pressed, and you swallowed.

"Yeah, I mean— nothing really," you shrugged, "he just got upset that I didn't wanna take things too fast, I guess.  Called me a slag and threw my phone— didn't crack, though, got lucky there—"

"Diddy?" Tommy spat, his anger obvious on his face.  He sat back up when you nodded, taking in a deep breath through his nose.  "Shoulda told me, would've scat 'im down and beat his face in.  Can't be talking to my birdie like that."

Your heart skipped a beat.  His birdie.  

"And throwin' your phone, too?  Bleddy tuss," Tommy sneered, shaking his head as he looked out the window, like he was trying to calm himself down.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you get especially Cornish when you're angry?" you giggled.

"Only twice a day, birdie," Tom laughed.  

Did anyone ever tell you that it turns me on?

“We’re here!” your mum announced, and you looked up to see that the car was turning in to a roundabout driveway.  Tom excitedly leaned against his window, looking up at the hotel.  “Wow,” he breathed.  “Look!”

He guided you to lean in right up against him, pressing your cheek to the glass so you could see the tall building.  It wasn’t a skyscraper or anything— this wasn’t that kind of place— but it was at least ten stories, with white bricks on the outside and seafoam-green shutters on each window.

With the car parked, Tom and the dads were going through the boot while his mom ran to use the loo and you and your mom checked in.

You weren’t really paying attention, honestly, while your mom gave the woman at the front desk a credit card for incidentals and all that.  The interaction only piqued your interest when you heard her confirm— “three rooms, then?”

“Yep,” your mum agreed.

“Three?” you repeated, looking up at her.

“Yeah— your dad and I, Gary and Marie, and then another room for you and Tom.”

You cleared your room.  “Tom and I get our own room?”

“You think us old geezers wanna be kept up all night by your giggling?” she snorted.  “Figured you two could entertain yourselves just fine, give the grown-ups some space.”

Before you could decide how to react to that, the opening of the front doors got everyone’s attention.  Tom looked ridiculous trying to carry as many bags as he could— all of yours, plus his and his mom’s— and you snorted as you watched him waddle into the lobby with all of them.

“What floor are we on?” he asked, the strain in his voice apparent and hilarious.

“Ten,” you informed him, and he groaned.

“Kidding!  Three,” you chuckled, “and there’s a lift.”

“Aw, Jesus,” Tom grumbled as he walked past you, struggling under the weight of the bags.  “You’re tryin’ to kill me, birdie.”

“I didn’t tell you to carry all those,” you rolled your eyes, looking at the concierge again as Tom turned the corner to find the lift.

“Is that your boyfriend?” she asked, continuing before you could answer.  “You two are adorable.”

“O-oh, er— no, actually,” you stammered, “just a friend.”

“Oh!” she mumbled.  “I see, my apologies.”

You looked down at your phone for just a second, only to hear your mom make a strange noise— a little giggle, and you saw her and the woman at the desk looking at each other.  “What?” you asked your mum.

“Nothing, dear,” she dismissed.

“What?!” you hissed, groaning when she hid a cheeky smile but said nothing.  “You’re so weird sometimes, mum…”

“Anyhoo,” the concierge mumbled, “you’re all ready to go!  Three king bed rooms, third floor, ocean view—”

“Wait, wait,” you interrupted, “all the rooms have a king bed?”  She nodded.  “Just a king bed?”

“Well… there’s a couch,” she offered.

You deflated slightly.  “That might be a little strange.”

“Oh,” she hummed, “well, I could change your room if you’d like.  But they won’t be connected anymore…”

“That’s fine,” you shook your head.

“Okay, there’s a room with two twins across the hall,” she explained, reading from her computer screen.

Ugh, a twin was gonna be uncomfortable, but so would just one bed.  “That’s fine, thank you.”

She clicked around on her keyboard for a bit, and right as she looked up at you again, Tom appeared from around the corner again.  “All done,” she announced, “I’ve changed your room for you!”

“You what?” Tom choked.

“She’s just changed our room for us,” you explained to him.

“Ah god,” he panted, laying his head against the wall while he caught his breath.  “Birdie, I just put all the bags away…”

You sighed, and the woman piped up again.  “I could still change it back for you, if the bags are too much trouble.”

“Please,” Tom breathed, and she nodded and started up with the keyboard again.  Rolling your eyes, you brushed past Tom flippantly.

“I’m gonna change,” you announced.

“Goin’ up to the room?” he asked.

“No, I was going to strip in the hallway and hope nobody walked through,” you replied snarkily.

“I was just gonna give you the key, birdie,” he smirked, pulling the plastic card out of his pocket.  You chewed your lip, regretting being so rude.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking it from him and moving along to the lift.

~

You’d only brought one swimsuit, the new one you’d bought just for this.  Maybe you’d had this crazy idea somewhere in the back of your mind that if you wore a tight little bikini, you’d finally get Tom’s attention and he’d stop seeing you just as the little girl he’d grown up with.  If you’d been a little less emotional and a touch more logical, you would’ve checked the weather first.

Yes, it was a beach, but it was still an English beach… the sky was grey and cloudy, and without sunlight, the ocean breeze was less refreshing and more chilly.  Very chilly, in fact, when you had hardly anything on like this.  You were trying so hard to act natural, to lay there on that chair on the beach and look as gorgeous as possible for whenever Tom came out, but it was so cold… every few seconds you were tensing up your jaw to try to fight off a shiver.

He came down a couple minutes later, wearing his swim trunks, but since he was apparently smarter than you, he was also wearing a half-zip jumper and a t-shirt underneath.  You pretended not to see him coming and laid still, only reacting to his presence with a polite wave when he was too close to ignore.

“Not gonna get much of a tan in this weather,” he noticed with a laugh as he sat next to you.

“I’m not tanning, I’m… relaxing,” you explained.

“Want me jumper, birdie?” he offered.  “You look freezing.”

“I-I’m fine,” you insisted, but your teeth chattered.  Next thing you knew, he was peeling it off over his head anyways— his shirt stuck to it and started to lift, too, exposing his stomach.  He managed to get the jumper off, though, and pulled it down over your face as you laughed and resigned yourself to your fate.  “Tommy, stop it,” you whined, batting his arms away so you could put the garment on yourself— he’d been trying to force it on you and accidentally trapped your face in one of the sleeves.

When you finally navigated your limbs through the borrowed sweater, popping your face out and breathing in a deep breath of fresh air after being stuck inside the cotton for a moment, you saw him looking at you… different.  Just a little different, but different nonetheless.  You wrinkled your eyebrows together at him, and he shook his head with a little laugh, and it was all back to normal again.  “Should keep you warm,” he mumbled, turning back to the view of the ocean and bringing his feet up onto the chair.

“Thanks,” you nodded, watching him lift his hands up behind his head and sigh.

For a while, you two laid there in silence, the sound of the ocean waves and seabirds like a quiet, slow song.  If you weren't thinking constantly about whether or not Tom was looking at you, you might've been able to relax enough to fall asleep.  Apparently Tom wasn't all in his head because he dozed off within a couple minutes, and after that, you decided to get up and explore the beach a bit.  There were little shops dotted here and there, a gelato stand, a cosy open-air pub playing music over their speakers.

You stopped to watch some boys playing volleyball on the beach, and one of them seemed to notice you staring— and he smiled at you, just before he served; you had to be careful not to make yourself look stupid by suddenly smiling down at the sand and toying with your hair, but you desperately wanted to.  He was cute, and tall and, you know, shirtless.  They all were, but he probably looked the best that way of any of them.

He ended the round with a spike right beside the net, and his side of the court cheered while the others groaned and complained to each other.  You clapped for them, and the boy looked at you again; he said something to his friends, and with the ball still under his arm, he jogged over toward you.

"Hey," he greeted with a sideways, pearly-white smile.

"Hi," you returned.  

"Did you like watching us play?" he asked, glancing back at the net for a second.

"Yeah, you're really good," you nodded.  "Are you a real team or somethin'?"

"No, god no," he laughed, "we just play for fun.  Not many sandy beaches to play at in London."

"Oh, you're visiting from London?  What part?"

"Southeast," he replied.

You nodded.  "Oh…"

There wasn't much you could say to that because you didn't know anything about London; he chuckled, apparently realising just that.  "I guess you're from around here?"

"Sort of— an hour down the way but, yes, I'm from Cornwall," you agreed.

“You’ve got an interesting accent,” he noticed with a smirk.  “It’s cute, actually.”

“Oh, y’think?” you smiled shyly.  “Always heard growing up that a Cornish accent made me sound like a dumb farmer or somethin’.”

“It works on you, though,” he decided.

"Oi!  Come back and serve!" one of the boys by the net called, and your new friend turned his head around.

"Go on without me," he told them, tossing the ball over.  "I'm talking to, er…"

He looked back at you, and you stammered out your name; he repeated it back to you with a smile.

"I'm Devon," he told you.

"Well, hi, Devon," you smiled.

Aaaaand, just in time, you heard Tom’s voice calling after you: “Birdie!” he shouted from down the beach, and you turned and sighed as you waved back.  

In a moment, Tom was beside you, slipping his arm around your shoulders.

"Where'd you run off to, my lover?" Tommy asked with a tilted smile, but he didn't give you a chance to answer before he looked over at the other young man and back at you.  "Who's the emmet?"

"My name's Devon, not Emmett," the Londoner corrected, and you hoped your polite laugh would break the tension.

"No, Devon, 'emmet' is Cornish," you explained.  "It's what we call tourists."

Except, ‘incomer’ is what you call tourists.  Emmet is what you call annoying tourists.  And you knew Tom was annoyed by him because he was hitting on you.

"This your girl, then?" Devon asked Tom… a little straightforward, but that's just how Londoners are, maybe?

"What's it to you?" Tom wondered.

"Er—" you interjected immediately, "no, actually, Tom's just a friend," you coughed, knowing that even though it was a way to greet a good friend around here, Tom surely intended for it to be misinterpreted.

"Bloody hell.  Can't tell what you people are saying," Devon grumbled, and you spoke up before Tom surely asked what 'you people' was supposed to mean.

"Anyways, point is— Tom and I are good friends, known each other since we were kids," you continued.

"Really?" Devon pressed.

“Yep," Tom replied with a beaming smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him, "she’s been me best mate since we were wee babes,” he beamed.  

“A bird’s your best mate?” Devon scoffed.  “Sure you’re not bent?”

“I’m bent?  You’re the one spendin’ all your time with a bunch of blokes with no shirts on, mate,” Tom defended.

Devon stepped forward and you had to jut yourself in between them to keep it from getting too heated.  “Okay, lads, let’s settle down, then—”

“Be careful,” Tom warned Devon, and you jabbed him with your elbow as punishment.

“I said to stop it, alright?” you hissed at Tom.  “Doesn’t matter, Tommy.”

“Yeah, Tommy,” Devon snickered, and you literally had to lean all your weight onto Tommy to keep him from trying to dive right over you to pummell the bellend.

"Let's go," you informed Tommy as you scoffed at Devon.  Wrapping a hand around Tom's waist, you guided him to walk with you back down the beach, away from the possibility of a fight.

Tommy could find a fight anywhere— even on the beach on holiday.  It was a real talent of his.

"You're horrible!" you whined as you punched Tom on his side.

"What did I do now?" he groaned.

"You scared that boy off, he was cute and he was flirting with me."

"Exactly!" Tommy emphasised, and you rolled your eyes.  "He turned out to be a wanker, anyhow, you heard him making fun of our accent, didn't you?"

"I think he was just making fun of your accent," you frowned.

"We've got the same one," Tom noticed.

"Well— just stop doing that!  You always do that."

"Sorry, birdie,” he shrugged, not seeming especially sorry.

You sighed and decided to let it go, because it wasn’t worth the argument.  “What’s next, then?  Think I’ve had enough of the beach.”

“Pub?” he suggested, and you laughed.

“Hardly late enough for that, don’t you think?” you snorted.

“Okay, dinner first, then pub,” he offered instead.

“That’s better.”

~

There were a few pubs along your walk back from dinner, but only one that had the rugby match on; so, of course, that was the one Tom picked.  It was almost entirely empty when you came inside, and since the match had gone to commercial break, Tom decided now was the best time to run to the loo.

“Order me something?” he requested.  “Whatever you’re getting.”

You nodded and he dashed off down a hallway.  Sitting at the bar, currently unattended with no other patrons but yourself, you looked up at the telly on the wall and caught a couple seconds of a car commercial.

“Can I get you anything?” 

The voice made you turn your head away from the telly, and you were surprised to find a boy your age on the other side of the bar.

“Oh, erm,” you choked, “just something on tap?  M’not picky.”

“There’s a stout we brew right here in the neighbourhood,” he suggested, “you might like it.”

“Sure,” you shrugged, “and one for my friend.”

“Great,” he smiled, bending down below the bar and reappearing with two pint glasses in hand.  You watched him as he tilted the glasses and filled them from the tape, admiring his tan skin and longer hair— he had that surfer look about him, in a Cornwall sort of way.

“Aren’t you a little young to be tending bar?” you noticed.

He laughed, revealing some dimples in the process.  “And you’re one to talk?” he shot back.

“I’m old enough to be served, aren’t I?” you challenged.

“Well actually, I was gonna ask for your ID,” he admitted, “but, you’re cute, so I decided to let it slide.”

You looked down as he set your drink on the bar for you.  “Thanks,” you hummed.  You tried it, giving him a nod of approval when the taste hit your tongue— it was pretty mild, and sort of grapefruit-y somehow.

“In town for holiday?” he assumed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, and he clicked his tongue.

“Too bad,” he shook his head.  “When are you going back home?”

“Thursday.”

“And where’s home?” he asked.  “You sound local.”

“Yeah, I am,” you agreed, “about an hour north.”

“Liskeard?” he guessed, and you shook your head.  “Launceston?”

“Closer,” you smiled.

“Bradworthy?”

“Oh, too far…”

“Holsworthy,” he grinned.

“Got it,” you nodded.

“Seems like it’d be easier to just drive up to Westward Ho! wouldn’t it?” he tilted his head.

“I try not to go anywhere that has an exclamation mark in the name,” you explained, and he chuckled a little.  

“I guess that’s fair,” he shrugged, “and it’s a good thing you came here anyways.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because now I get to look at you,” he cooed.

You took a sip of the beer to hide your warming face.  When you brought the glass back down, he laughed at you softly.

“Got some foam on your nose, my bird,” he warned you, reaching forward to wipe it off with his thumb.

“Oh, th-thanks,” you stammered, watching him put his thumb to his mouth and suck that bit of foam off while he kept looking at you.  What a flirt!  Do it again.

Tom came back from the washroom and sat on the stool next to yours, thanking you for ordering his beer for him before he took a large drink of it.

"O-oh," the bartender choked, and you knew that look— the ‘shit, you've got a boyfriend’ look.  

You sighed.  "Hey, um— this is my friend, Tom," you explained.

"Wasson?" Tom greeted him, nodding his head quickly in acknowledgement.

"Not much, mate," he replied, "Cade.”

“Tom,” he answered back as if he didn’t already know that, not going so far as to shake hands since Tom was holding his glass and Cade was holding a rag to wipe down the bar.

“She was just telling me you're only here for a spell,” Cade recalled, “which is a proper shame.”  

You smiled shyly.  “Oh, yeah, well, I wish our holiday could be longer, too.”

“Always the prettiest maids just here on holiday,” Cade nodded, looking at Tom.  “You know how it is, don’t you?  You’re from a holiday town, too, I heard.”

Not quite as popular as your current location, but yes, vacationers would occasionally appear in town.  You’d never noticed this ‘girls visiting from up-country are prettier’ principle, but your eyes turned to Tom expectantly.  “Uh, yeah,” Tommy nodded.  “Yeah, I know how it is.  And half of them have boyfriends back home.”

It made your heart sink a bit— what you would give to have one of those.  Or to have Tommy say no, the prettiest bird’s right here with me now.  Or both.

“But that doesn’t stop all of them,” he added with a laugh, and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re awful, Tommy,” you shoved him lightly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, licking his bottom lip.

Cade gestured at Tom’s rugby union shirt— “You play?” he asked.

“Yeah, sometimes,” Tom nodded, “you?”

“I just watch,” he shrugged, pointing at the telly in the corner.  “Cooped up in this pub all the time, anyway.”

“That’s no excuse,” Tom chided, “gotta get out there and get roughed up!”

“That’s what surfing’s for,” Cade smirked.

“Okay, now I’m definitely not going,” you shook your head.  “I don’t wanna get roughed up by the ocean!”

“I said I would teach her,” Tom informed Cade, “now look what you’ve done.”

“Sorry,” Cade laughed, “you’ll be fine, and you’ve come at just the right time of year for it.”

“That’s what I said!” Tom agreed.

Oh god, were they actually getting on alright?  Would Tom give his approval, finally?  

You sipped your stout and let them go on about rugby and football teams for a while, letting yourself get your hopes up that Tom would actually like a guy who liked you— and sure, he was a barkeep in your holiday spot, not exactly the foundation for a serious relationship, but it would be nice to have a little fling without worrying that Tom would end up beating him up.

Tom was the one who made fun of you sometimes for being a virgin, anyway.  He never meant it— actually, when he occasionally took the time to be serious, he assured you better than anyone else that it was perfectly normal and fine to still be one.  But still, you weren’t exactly trying to hang onto it much longer.  Tom told you to wait for the right person; but you’d been waiting for him for way too long.

Watching the match together, you and Tom put down a few pints and laughed at some stupid old inside jokes— Cade tended to stick around, chatting with you both, when there weren’t other customers to serve.  You caught him glancing at you a few times, and you liked how you felt when he looked at you like that— desirable, maybe even grown up.  You and Tom had been friends since you were little, after all, and since he treated you the exact same way he always had, sometimes you still felt little around him.  But you weren’t.  It was good to remember that.

The match ended— Cornwall won, thank god, or you’d be babying Tom all night after he drowned his sorrows in something stronger than the local stout.  He still drank a little too much to celebrate, but less too much.

Enough that he had to go to the loo again, though, at which point Cade was suddenly right by you again.  “Your friend’s funny,” he smiled.

“Yeah,” you agreed, “he’s not always that loud, but, yeah, he’s never been very subtle.”

“And he’s just a friend?” 

You rolled your eyes.  “Yes,” you insisted, and you focused your tone on your annoyance and not your disappointment.

“Just checking!” Cade returned defensively.  “How long have you known him?” 

“My whole life,” you sighed.  “Can’t remember a time without him.  He’s just… always been there.”

Cade nodded.  “That’s nice, wish I had a friend like that.  People come and go a lot in a place like this.”

“I bet,” you offered sympathetically.  “And your girlfriend?  Does she come and go, or stick around?”

“What?  I don’t have a girlfriend,” he frowned.

“Just checking,” you winked.

“Why, you think I should get one?” he raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged.  “If you can find one…”

His eyes dragged over you, his smile fading slightly; you pretended not to be totally overwhelmed by it all.

“Cade!” a voice shouted from the back, and an older woman poked her head out of the kitchen as Cade turned his head.  “Come back here an’ clean up!”

“I will, mum!” he called back, before returning his attention to you.  “Listen, I’d better get back to work— but you could come by tomorrow?  If you wanted.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I think I’ll find the time.”

“Tom can come too, of course,” he added, leaning closer to you on the bar, “but… I’d rather have some time alone with you, if that’s alright.”

Reaching up to scratch your shoulder, you bit your lip to hide a smile.  “Okay, yeah—” you set your hands back down on the bar when you saw the way he was looking at you, “yeah, I’d like that, too.  I’m sure Tommy can find some way to entertain himself for an hour.”

Cade’s hand landed on yours suddenly, giving it a quick squeeze while he winked at you.  And then he threw the rag over his shoulder and disappeared into the back.  You pursed your lips and exhaled through them; it had been a while since you had butterflies like that.  

Tom came back around the corner, leaning beside you on the wooden bar, and you giggled when you saw how red his nose had gotten from the booze.  “Tommy, you look like you’ve stuck your face in blusher,” you noticed.

“Aw, really?” he scrunched up his nose, wiping it with his hand.

“You can’t wipe it off!” you laughed harder.  “Cade’s gone to the back to work— wanna go on a walk, take a geek at the rest of the neighbourhood?”

“Sure,” he agreed, letting you take his hand and pull him along with you out the door and around the pavement.  You walked in silence for a few moments, glancing at him once, before you just had to bring it up.

“So, Cade was nice…” you trailed off.  You looked at Tom expectantly, wearing a hopeful smile, but you hadn't even said anything yet before he expressed his dissent.

“No, no way,” he shook his head, ignoring your protests, “not good enough for you.”

“What?  Tommy, what’s wrong with him?”

“What’s wrong with him?” Tom repeated.  “Birdie, what’s right with him?”

“I thought you liked him!” you whined.  “He was so nice to you, and you talked rugby for ages!”

“Was looking at you funny,” he shuddered.

“Well, I’d hope so,” you rolled your eyes, “doesn’t that mean he’s interested?”

“That’s what you want, creepy guys drooling all over you?” Tom snorted.  “Come on, let’s go— I don’t want you seeing that sod again.”

You groaned, but let him drape his arm over your shoulders and guide you away.  “You shouldn’t be so protective, Tom… this is why everyone thinks you’re either my brother or my boyfriend.”

“If it keeps the boys away from you, I don’t care what they think,” he decided.  You rolled your eyes as he pulled your head down with his arm, enough that he could plant a kiss on top of your head.  “There, now they’ll think I’m your boyfriend, how about that?”

“You kiss me all the time,” you laughed.

“Eh?”

“On the head,” you clarified.  “You give me kisses on the head, doesn’t make you my boyfriend.”

“Guess not,” he agreed.  

Halfway along your walk, you passed a park which Tom decided would be the perfect place to share a cigarette— actually, he was just going to smoke it himself, but you made him share.

“Remember your sixth birthday party?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere, after a drag.  “You tripped and sprained your ankle running in the backyard that day, but you stopped crying when we gave you your presents.”

You laughed at the memory.  “God, I barely remember— but yeah.”

He handed the cigarette to you and you rested it between your lips.  “Do you remember what I got you?” he continued.

“A Barbie,” you recalled, “wasn’t it?  She was some little princess or something, can’t remember now.”

“Yeah,” he nodded.  “Well, I want you to know that before I gave her to you, I took her out of the box and took her clothes off.”

“What?!” you snorted, making a cloud of smoke 

“I had to know!” he laughed.  “I put them back on and put her back in the box and everything first before I gave her to you.”

“Yeah, I think I would remember getting a naked Barbie, Tom,” you scoffed, and he carefully plucked the cigarette from your fingers and took it back.

“Right, well—” he stopped to inhale, and then let it out as he continued— “she had plastic panties on anyway.  Wasn’t worth it,” he shook his head.

You dropped your forehead into your palm.  “The fuck are you talking about?” you giggled. 

“Just that time of night where you feel like confessing things, I guess,” he shrugged.

“Any other secrets you’ve been keeping from me?” you pressed.  “Any other childhood toys of mine that you violated?”

“Took a geek up the skirt of a Cabbage Patch Kid or two,” he added, “but that’s about it.”

“Well, we all did that,” you rolled your eyes, and he grinned at you.

“Oh, I knew it,” he purred, “I think you were just as much of a pervert as I was.”

“Yeah?  But you’re still a pervert,” you accused.

“Maybe,” he relented, “but at least I’m not a prude.”

You looked away quickly.  “M’not a prude, Tommy…”

“I know, I know,” he soothed, handing you the last quarter of the cigarette, “you’re just picky.  And you should be.”

He suddenly laid his head down on your lap, making you tense up a little bit and wonder where you were supposed to put your hands.

“Nobody deserves you anyway,” he mumbled, closing his eyes as he adjusted himself to get comfortable on the bench.

“Well, that doesn’t really solve my problem, does it?” you said, speaking a little quieter.

“What’s the problem?” he wondered sleepily.

You sighed, holding the cigarette in your mouth as you reached down and carded your fingers through his hair.  He hummed and smiled a little.  “Nothing,” you dismissed, and he started to breathe slower and slower.  

You finished the cigarette over the course of the next however-long-it-had-been, absent-mindedly touching his head and playing with his hair, and only noticed that Tom had dozed off when you felt a wet patch under his mouth on your legs.

“Eww, Tommy!” you whined, shoving him off of you as he tried to wake up.  “When I said I wanted guys to drool over me, this is not what I meant.”

“Sorry, love,” he laughed, wiping the side of his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Think that’s our cue to go back to the room and go to bed, eh?”

~

He didn’t say anything before he got in the shower, so you didn’t know what to expect when he got out: was he going to suddenly realise there was only one bed?  Had he already and just didn’t care?  Were you supposed to protest, or act like it was no big deal, or what?

When he emerged from the steamy bathroom in his pyjamas— aka, just his fuzzy plaid trousers, the ever-present friendship bracelet, and the chain on his neck— he found you standing in the middle of the room, staring at the singular bed, and gave you a confused look.

“I guess you saw when you brought our bags up,” you mumbled nervously.  

“Eh?”

“The bed.”  You motioned towards it, and he wrinkled his eyebrows together.

“What about it?” he shrugged.

“There’s only one of it!”

“Oh,” he nodded, “yeah, guess so.”

“So, we’ll have to share,” you helped him reach the obvious conclusion.

“Oh,” he said again, “you think it’ll be weird?”

“I mean, I figure,” you shrugged.

“I’ll take the couch,” he insisted.

“No, Tommy, let me,” you pleaded.

“You jokin’?  I’m supposed to let a maid sleep on the couch?”

“Didn’t realise you were such a gentleman,” you frowned, crossing your arms.

“Aren’t I?” he smirked.

You felt bad about it, but he was already putting a spare sheet down on the sofa while you were getting through your nighttime routine.  Leaning out of the bathroom, toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you caught a glimpse of him laying there on the couch with one arm up behind his head and the other holding the book he’d been reading as of late— one of those fantasy novels that were much too violent for you.  He looked past the top of it to smile at you, and you popped back in to wrap up.

You were just wearing a baggy old t-shirt that was just long enough on you to cover your red panties, which you felt mostly not-weird about wearing around Tom, though walking past him to get to bed made you shiver a little bit.

“G’night,” he offered.

“You too,” you replied quietly, and he reached up above his head to switch off the lamp.

Sure, it was you who had worried about the whole bed-sharing thing in the first place, but that was only because you were pre-emptively worrying that he would worry about it.  It was sort of a lose-lose: if he was against it, then you’d feel dejected, but if he was fine with it, it was another way for him to rub it in that you could hold him but never have him.

Still, now that you were alone in this big old bed, you couldn’t help but think that at least it was nice you could hold him… but he was all the way over there.

You chewed your lip, trying to stay quiet.  You made it about thirty seconds.  “Tommy?”

“Yeah?”

“Think you’ll fall asleep alright on that?” you wondered.

“Should be asleep in a couple minutes, once you’re quiet,” he replied.

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” you mumbled.  You made it a whole minute before you spoke again.  “Tommyyyyy,” you whined.

“What!” he snapped.

“I can’t sleep, I feel too bad!” you pouted.  “Just get in the bed?  We fall asleep together all the time!  What’s the difference?”

“Difference is it’s all night,” he explained, “haven’t done that since we were eight— and you kicked me in your sleep!”

“Are you seriously going to sleep on that musty old sofa, and leave me alone here in the king bed, just because you’re still mad at me for kicking you?”

“Not just that,” he mumbled, “you snore, too.”

“Shut up,” you groaned, “just come over, won’t you?  I’m cold anyways…”

He paused as he considered it.  “There’s room for me?”

“Tons,” you promised.

You heard him throw the blanket off of himself, and you smiled instantly.  In a moment, he was diving into the bed, and you laughed as the mattress creaked; he laid next to you on his back, and you reached an arm around his torso while setting your head on his shoulder.

He smelled so good after his shower, clean and woodsy from his deodorant, and his curls held their shape despite being wet still.

“Should’ve known you’d be like a barnacle soon as I got in here,” he chuckled.

“I said I was cold,” you reminded him, hugging his waist tighter.

“Night, birdie,” he whispered after he kissed the top of your head.  With him holding you, you were asleep in an instant.

It was one of those dreamless sleeps that went by quickly, like you’d only shut your eyes for a few minutes.  You would’ve thought it was still the middle of the night when you woke up, if it weren’t for the sun coming in through the open window.

Specifically, you woke up because of a long sigh right by your ear, making you blink your eyes open quickly and start to stretch your legs out under the sheet and blanket.  You were on your side, and Tommy was pressed right up on your back, his arm draped around your torso.

He sighed again, and you felt him shift around against you.  Most importantly, you felt something hard and hot on your lower back.   Eyes going wide, you jolted as you felt him rock his hips against you again.

"Tommy," you whispered, hoping to wake him up.

"Mm," he hummed, smiling against your neck, and you shuddered.

"Tommy!" you hissed, and he snorted as he woke up suddenly.

He pulled back and all but jumped away from you.  “Shit, I—” he mumbled, sitting up as the bed creaked; god, his face was so red, he looked adorably flustered and a bit terrified.  “I’m sorry, birdie, I swear I wasn’t trying to—”

“It’s okay, Tommy,” you insisted, sitting up with him, “it’s not a big deal.”

“What’d you say?  It’s not big?” he choked.

“No!  Tommy, it’s—” you stopped yourself from saying what you wanted to say then.  “I know that happens to guys in the mornings…”

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck nervously, “happens when we’re in bed with pretty girls, too…”

Before you could wonder if there was something to read into there, he spoke again.

“I’m fucked,” he groaned, running his hand down over his face, “what’s the time?”

“Ten ‘til 9,” you informed him following a glance at the clock on the nightstand.

“We’ve got that breakfast soon, we’re supposed to meet downstairs in five minutes,” he recalled.  “And I can’t get dressed ‘til he’s gone away.”

“How do you normally get rid of it?” you wondered, watching him look at you for a second before looking away again.

“Well…” he trailed off, clearing his throat.

“Well?” you pressed.

“Y-y’know,” he stammered, “it’s— er— fuckin’ hell, birdie, can’t say it with you lookin’ at me like that…”

“C’mon, Tommy, I know you wank off,” you rolled your eyes, “you and every other bloke on the planet.”

“But I can’t do it with you here!” he yelped, and a pang of self-consciousness hit your chest.  Were you that horrible of a sight that he wouldn’t be able to finish with you nearby?

“I-I’ll leave then, give you some space,” you offered.

“Birdie, I’ll know you’re just outside the door, that’s not gonna help,” he frowned.

“Well shit, Tommy, where’dya want me to go?  Fuckin’ Launceston?”

“No, shit, that’s not what I meant,” he groaned, reaching up and covering his face as he rubbed his eyes with his fingertips.  “You’ve just got me all messed up— s’not your fault, I mean!  I just don’t know what m’gonna do now…”

You bit your lip, glancing over at the flowery wallpaper on the opposite side of the room, then to the window and its view out over the beach.  “I mean, maybe… maybe if it would help, I could…”

“Jesus, birdie, don’t say you’re gonna wank me off or somethin’,” he pleaded with a concerned tilt of his head, and you stammered as you tried to remember what you were going to say.

“No, I— I was gonna say you could…” you began again, “er— I mean, before, while you were asleep, you were… it was…”

“What?” he pressed, leaning a little closer to you, and you chickened out.

“Nevermind, sorry,” you shook your head, “you should just get dressed— nobody’ll notice it.”

That was a lie: if it looked as big as it felt, a family of four could go camping under the tent in his shorts at this point.  “No, c’mon,” he pleaded, scooting a little closer to you, “won’t make fun of you or nothin’, just wanna know what you were gonna say.  You know I can’t run down to breakfast with my willy tryin’ to jump out, yeah?  Like, ‘hey mum an’ dads, pass me the eggs, then— don’t mind my fuckin’ blood sausage under the table—’”

You laughed, pushing him on the chest— but he just moved closer, again, looking right at your face.  You felt oddly exposed to him, even though he should’ve been the one feeling like that considering the circumstances.  “Fine,” you relented, “I was just… thought maybe you could— well, it could help you if you, um… just… pressed up against me, again?  Like you were before?  And you could, er…”

Dropping your voice to a mumble just above a whisper, you watched your hands clutch the spotted quilt in lieu of meeting his invasive stare.

“You could… grind on me, a bit,” you finally completed, so quiet that you barely heard yourself.  But he was a few inches away— he must’ve heard you.  Literally, he must have, because you couldn’t say it again.

“Eh?” he grunted, and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon, Tommy, you’re not deaf, are you?”

“No, m’just… you wan’ me to rub me stiffy on you?” he realised, tilting his chin down and raising an eyebrow.  Leave it to Tommy to throw all the subtlety to the wind and just say it outright like that, ignorant to the way it made your cheeks burn and your throat catch.

“I-I mean, I don’t want you to,” you denied quickly, “I just thought it might go away if you did.  Means to an end, right?”

“Yeah, means to an end,” he agreed, clearing his throat.  “Just feel a little weird about it, birdie, I mean… it’s you.  You know I love ya— don’t wanna be rude to you or, er, disrespectful—”

“It’s not,” you promised, “I’m offering— and it’ll be quick, right?”

“Er, yeah,” he coughed, rubbing the back of his neck again, “should be…”

“Okay, then, should we?” you asked, sheepishly raising your eyebrows as you looked at him.

“I mean, fuck, birdie,” he laughed nervously, “I think you know we shouldn’t.”

But you both already knew that you were going to, and the thrill of something so forbidden titillated you further.

“Lay down then, yeah?” he instructed you softly, and you turned back onto your side as you felt him press up to your back.  His arm slipped around your front, the one with your bracelet on his wrist, and you could feel him breathing by the back of your neck as he brushed your hair out of the way.  “This alright?” 

You nodded, and he held you a little tighter; you felt it then, brushing up against your lower back.  You were getting sweaty from how warm it was with him pressed up on you under the thick covers, yet you still shivered.

He hummed quietly, his hand moving down your hips so he could hold you steady.  And he rocked into you again, more confidently, a shaky breath falling from his lips.  

When his forehead rested against the back of your shoulder, you felt your back arch slightly; and then you could feel the ridge under the head of his cock, you could feel it when he moved in one, long stroke and you bit your lip, arching your back deeper.

“Shit,” he grunted quietly, and he started to move a little faster right after he said that.

After just a minute or less of that, you were beyond desperate to have him inside you, you couldn’t stop thinking about what it would feel like— about how he would stretch you open, how he would moan for you as he filled you to the brim.  If he wanted to, right now, he could just lift up your shirt a bit and pull your panties down without saying anything, slip inside you in one go; you were soaking wet, he’d slide in so easily…

“Fuck, birdie,” he breathed, “roll over.”

His verbal command was a bit moot, since his hand was already on your shoulder, gently pushing you to lay on your back.  He hovered above you for a moment, and you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Spread your legs,” he whispered; you’d only been waiting years for him to say that to you.  You did it unquestioningly, and he slotted himself between them with a low groan.  When he pressed his cock up against your aching cunt— through so many frustrating layers of pyjamas— he shut his eyes and tossed his head back for a second.  It was so perfect, his face in bliss like that, the morning sun peeking in through the curtains and making his curls shine golden-blonde.  He looked fucking beautiful.

A little gasp jumped in your mouth as he started to thrust against you again, each stroke of his hips rubbing right over your clit and making his chain dangle over your face.  You almost felt guilty, for a second, with the little engraving of Saint Thomas right there, like he was watching you do this.  “Sh-shit, Tommy…” you hissed, catching yourself before you moaned aloud when he rocked his hip harder against you and your whole pussy clenched.  If only he could feel that now— if only he could feel around his cock how desperately you needed him.

He descended down upon you, burying his face in your neck.  His hair tickled your cheek, and you fisted at the sheets to stop yourself from reaching up and holding onto him— that would be too much, too needy, right?  It was just supposed to be a means to an end, after all.  “Can I kiss you here?” he asked under his breath.

“Er, why would you do that?” you wondered.

“Just— thought it might make it go faster,” he justified.

“Y-yeah, Tommy, s’fine,” you nodded.  Do whatever you want to me.

He latched on right away, a mess of lips and tongue and teeth all over your neck; everything in you fought to keep your moans down, because you didn’t want him to know how much you loved this, how close you were to coming without even doing anything… without even taking your clothes off!

“Are you close?” you asked him softly, feeling him nod.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, and his heavy breathing cooled your skin where it was still wet with his spit.  “Just a little longer?”

“You’re not gonna give me a hickey, are you?” you whispered.

“Not if you don’t want me to,” he replied.  

“Just— make it quick, Tommy, we’ve gotta be downstairs soon,” you reminded him.

“Right, yeah, m’gonna come,” he promised, sending another chill over your body.  One of his hands moved down, holding your thigh as he thrusted faster and faster— fuck, the headboard was about to hit the wall.  Just as you looked up to see it slam once, you saw his free hand reach up and grab onto it tightly, blocking the impact with his knuckles.

“Tommy,” you breathed, an involuntary reaction to how deliberately sexy that was.

“Say it again,” he requested quietly.

“Tommy,” you repeated, and he grunted right against your ear— he didn’t stop moving entirely, just slowed down quite a bit as he rutted on you.  

“Fuck,” he sighed, panting.  You swallowed, feeling wonderfully strange knowing that must be it, that he just came— because of you.  His weight sank down onto you, making you let out a little squeal from the air rushing out of your lungs, and he laughed quietly.  “Sorry,” he mumbled, lifting himself up and hovering above you again, “didn’t mean to crush you…”

“S’all fine, Tom,” you promised, closing your legs as soon as you had the chance— before he could see that you’d soaked through your panties.

“Oh, ‘Tom’, eh?  Gettin’ formal, are we?” he grinned.  “Now that you’ve got me to bust in me trousers, we’re not so friendly anymore?”

“Shut up,” you laughed as you pushed him aside, swinging your legs off the bed so you could get up.  “Gonna use the loo and then I’ll get dressed.”

“What?!” he croaked.  “You kidding?  Of course I get to use the loo first!”

“Not if I get there before you,” you challenged, jumping up and trying to race him across the hotel room.  He beat you, but only by playing dirty— he ran up behind you and grabbed you, spinning you around as you kicked and laughed and squirmed in his grasp.

two weeks later

Moonshine on the bay had become a tradition on nights like this, when the warmth of summer was creeping around the corner, ever since you were both fifteen and in desperate need of some rebellion.  Now, without the illegality and all, it had lost some of that titillating appeal, but you still loved going out so late and meeting him at your secret spot.  It had the perfect view of the water at night, not that it was a particularly scenic section of the sea since it was mostly cargo ships and docks and all that, but under the flickering old street lamp and the tall field elms, it was almost romantic.

Tommy was currently still standing while you leaned back on your hands, brandishing the liquor he’d secured for the evening.  “For you,” he offered you the opened bottle with a smile, and you took it, but waited for him to take a sip of his first.  He did, and you saw his lips curling as he drank.

“How is it?” you asked, and he stopped drinking to cough a bit.

“It’s hangin’!” he grimaced.  “But it’ll do the job.”

You took a sip while he sat down next to you, and made a face of your own.  “Ah fuck!  That’s terrible!  Where the fuck’d you get this?”

But you knew what he meant when he said it would do the job— one sip was already warming your chest, and the next, though just as disgusting as the last, made you feel tingly at the tips of your fingers.

With your bottles halfway finished, you two sat up in the grass and watched the lights of ships go by slowly in the night.  “Had a date last night,” you blurted out suddenly, just to make conversation.

“Really?  With who?”

“You remember Jack Meyer?”

“God, I wish I didn’t,” he sneered, “what a knob.”

“Could you stop insulting all the guys I go out with?” you frowned.

“Stop going out with knobs and I will,” he bargained.

“Anyways, he was nice,” you announced firmly.  “Took me to the cinema and bought me a popcorn.”

“What size?” he asked.

“Medium.”

“Cheap bastard,” Tom grumbled.

“Shut up!  I’m trying to tell you that it was a nice date!” you yelped, pushing him on the shoulder.  “We actually, um… well, maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

“What?” he wondered.

“I mean, I tell you everything— you tell me everything.  You told me when Sharon Caldwell let you feel her tits in eighth grade, and you told me when you lost it to Annie— what was her name again?”

“Annie Shaw,” he finished for you.

“Right… so, point is, I figured I should tell you what happened with me and Jack, right?” you wondered.  When you found the courage to look over at Tommy, his expression was… intense.  Almost angry, a little terrified.

“Don’t tell me you gave it up to him,” he pleaded, leaning in a little closer.

“God no!  I just wanked him a bit.”

"You did what to 'im?!" Tommy yelped.

"W-well, I dunno!" you backpedalled quickly. 

“Aw, birdie, you can do so much better than him,” he groaned.

“Okay, maybe so, but he’s the one I wanted to go out with.  And he was nice and he made me feel— I dunno, pretty?” you mumbled, afraid to sound too girlish.

“Come on, you can’t go rubbing off any guy who calls you pretty,” Tom scolded.

“This isn’t just any guy!”

“Yeah, it’s Jack Meyer.  In fourth year he swallowed a penny and it never came out!”

“Believe it or not, Tommy, it's not fourth year anymore,” you frowned.  “Things are different.  We’re older.  I’m not a little kid— and I’m tired of being treated like one!”

He sighed slowly, taking another swig of the booze.  “I guess that’s fair,” he relented.  “Still… can’t stand thinking about you doing that to some guy.”

"Why?"

He seemed confused by your question, and gave you a look.

"Why can't you stand thinking about it?" you interrogated.

"I… I don't know…"  He coughed a bit, clearly wanting to change the subject, but you kept staring at him as you waited for an answer.  “I guess it’s just that,” he began again, “I worry because it’s Jack, you know?  He’s a little aggressive with girls— or, he was back when I knew him.  He didn’t… pressure you into it, right?”

You thought back to the night before, and how it all happened.  “Erm, no,” you decided, “not really.”

“Not really?  What’s that mean?”

“Well, he didn’t make me do it,” you explained, “but he was… showing me how, ‘cause I didn’t know.”

“Sh-showing you?” Tom repeated.

“He, erm, he took my hand,” you remembered, feeling your heart start to race as you looked at Tom closely.  “And he put it… he put it right here.”

It was the liquor that made you do it; you pressed your hand up to the front of his trousers, feeling him getting firmer under your touch already.  He jumped a little but didn’t stop you.

"He told me to take it out for him…" you continued, voice wavering as your whole body was suddenly shivering from nervousness, and started to open his trousers yourself.

“Birdie,” Tom gasped, and you looked up to his face again.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked him point blank.  He didn’t say anything.  “Can I keep going?”

His mouth was open slightly, and he was breathing heavily through it; he nodded.  You unzipped his fly and reached in, navigating the opening of his boxers to get his cock out.  

Of course, you’d felt it before, but you’d never seen it.  It was as beautiful as a cock could be, you thought: tanner than the rest of him for some reason, flushed at the tip, still just starting to poke out from his foreskin with a teal vein running up under your palm.  Biting your lip, you wrapped your fingers a little tighter around it.  “H-he told me to stroke it, like this,” you stammered, moving your hand gently and slowly from the base to the tip and back— then again, and again.

Daring to glance up at Tom’s face again, you saw him watching your hand with a dumbstruck expression.  You twisted your hand slightly as you reached the tip and he groaned.  "Birdie…" he sighed— his voice wore some impossible mixture of arousal, confusion, scolding, disappointment, and desperation.  It made your knees weak.  Good thing you were still kneeling on the ground, so it didn’t make much difference.  You were so sloshed that standing up would’ve been a bit of an effort, anyway.

“When I was doing it right,” you continued, “he’d tell me I was bein’ good for him… it made me feel weird when he said that, but good.  You know?”

“Y-yeah…” he choked, hissing through his teeth.  

It went on that way for a little while, just his panting and the crickets chirping; though there was clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock, you thought it might not be enough, so you pursed your lips and let your spit dribble down onto him so you could spread it out with your hand.

“Christ,” he groaned, “Jack taught you that, too?”

You nodded, and he growled a little— the sound made your chest tighten up (as well as a few other places).  His cock was starting to bob against your grip, and his breathing was faster and heavier with each stroke.  "You're close?" you noticed, and he nodded, chest heaving as he stared down at what you were doing to him.  "You can come, Tom.  I want you to."

"Shit," he hissed.  "Shit, jus' don't stop then."

And you didn't, in fact you moved your hand even faster, until it was just a blur and he was bucking up into your palm desperately.

"Ah, fuck!" he gasped, and come started to spurt from his pulsing cock, landing on his shirt and your hand.  "Fuck…"

You watched his face as it tilted back, his eyebrows knitted together, his mouth parted in a little moan.  Your hand was still moving, and his jumped up to grab your wrist and stop you.  Then it was still, and silent, except for him breathing like he'd just run a marathon.

After a moment, he tilted his head down again and came back to reality; he instantly looked mortified.  "God, birdie," he choked, "I made a mess on you— m'so sorry, let me get it…"

He tried to wipe the come away with his shirt, frantically cleaning your hand up as best he could.  "It's fine, Tommy," you giggled.

"No it isn't, I've got your pretty hand all dirty now…"

Examining his focused expression as he wiped up the smears of come, you bit your lip slightly.  You did feel guilty for making up that whole story about a date with Jack Meyer that never did— and never would— happen, but it worked.  You’d never lied to Tommy like that before, but you decided to blame it on the liquor and not your desperation.  

In the two weeks since your holiday, nothing untoward whatsoever had happened between you and it was driving you crazy.  You didn’t even talk about it!  You, of course, thought about it every day— well, really every night, when you touched yourself and tried to remember exactly how his voice sounded in your ear.  That was what drove you to this, to getting drunk and making shit up for a chance to touch him.

"Kiss me," you said suddenly.  He looked up at your face, and you just stared at each other for a second.  

His hand dropped yours— it was clean now, or clean enough at least— and moved up to hold your face.  You sighed slightly; his thumb stroked your cheek and he smiled at you.

He gently tilted your head down and met you halfway, pressing his lips to your forehead.  Your chest deflated and your eyes fell shut.  So this is what heartbreak feels like.  It's not as bad as I thought.

"That better?" he asked as he pulled back, moving his own face down so he could look up at you with a tender smile.  You nodded, willing yourself not to cry in front of him now.  

You were throwing yourself at him and he was throwing you away.  "We'll always be friends, won't we?" you asked quietly.

"Aw, birdie— of course," he cooed, pulling you into a hug.  You clutched at his shoulders, digging your nails into handfuls of his ratty old Nirvana t-shirt.

He rolled back onto the grass and pulled you down with him, making you laugh and try to get away— but he wouldn't let you go.

"We'll always be friends," he promised again, "'cause otherwise who'd keep all those awful boys away from you?"

"Shut up," you rolled your eyes.

"I will," he sighed, relaxing his grip on you slightly.  "I'm gonna ease up on you, I think.  Let you date somebody if you want— even if he's a tosser.  'Cause you're right, you're not a little kid anymore.  And it's not fair to you."

You swallowed, laying your head on his chest.  You'd never actually wanted him to let you date someone else… you just wanted him to finally love you back.  But maybe this was the best you were going to get.

~

“Go, Tommy!” you cheered from the side of the pitch, though he surely couldn’t hear you through all that.. rugby-ing.  Rugbing?

Whatever— point is, you clapped and hollered anyways as you watched him run all over the place, narrowly dodging being tackled a few times.  You winced when he got taken down from the side by one of the biggest guys out there.  Tommy had a high pain tolerance, but you’d rather not see him lose a tooth or something.  What a waste of a perfect smile that would be.

For all their efforts, Tommy’s team lost by just a few points; it was just a scrimmage, hence why there was basically no one else here but you and the actual team members, so you hoped he wouldn’t be pouty the rest of the day after losing.  He didn’t seem to be, from what you could tell this far away— he was shaking hands and bumping fists, sweaty and streaked with dirt and grass as he chugged from his water bottle.  It really should not have been as attractive as it was…

Before you got caught ogling, someone caught your attention: “Hey,” one of the players jogged up to you, and you blinked up at him blankly, not sure who he was.  You’d definitely seen him before, you remembered his dreads and… overall massiveness.  But you weren’t sure what he was talking to you for.  “You’re here with Tom, yeah?”

“Oh, yes,” you smiled.

“He said you’re an old mate of his,” the player went on.

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Sweet of you to come cheer him on,” he laughed, “even though it didn’t seem to do him much good today.”

You shrugged.  “He loses a lot, but he always gets back up.”

“I’m Rhys, by the way,” he offered.  “I’d shake your hand or somethin’, but I’m pretty filthy at the moment.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you laughed.  “Surprised you haven’t gone to the showers already, that’d be the first thing I’d be doing after getting that sweaty.”

“Well, I was gonna,” he explained, “but, well, I was afraid you’d be gone before I got back.”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering what that meant, and he continued on.

“Listen, I asked Tom, but I figured I should ask you… er…” he stalled as he smiled nervously.  “Have you got a boyfriend or anythin’?”

“Er, no,” you answered.

“Issuh?” he laughed.

“Yes!” you insisted.  “You think I’m lying or something?”

“I think it’s a little too good to be true, that’s all,” he explained.  “Girl like you shouldn’t stay single too long.”

You kept waiting for Tommy to come ruin it— to come rescue you.  You glanced over, and you saw him look back at you, but he just smiled and kept working on the laces of his cleats.

“So, I guess I should ask for your number before it’s too late, yeah?” Rhys continued.  You were pulled out of your thoughts, looking up at him and dropping your mouth open as you hoped for some words to come out.

“Oh!  Erm,” you began, “well—”

“It’s okay if not,” he promised, “but, you know… I’d like it.  So I can call you sometime or something— maybe I’ll have worked up the nerve to ask you out by then.”

Your cheeks were warm, but so were the backs of your eyes.  You never thought you would miss it, Tom running up and putting his arm around you, shooting whatever guy you were talking to a glare that made everyone feel uncomfortable; you glanced over at him again, watching him chat and laugh with some of the other guys.  He was just going to let this happen, wasn’t he?  And so were you.  “Yeah,” you finally blurted out, “sure— got your phone now?  I’ll put it in for you.”

“Great,” he smiled, pulling his phone out of his pocket and handing it to you.  “Wow, that went surprisingly well.”

“Are you that surprised?” you laughed as you added yourself as a contact.

“These things don’t normally go right for me,” he explained.

“For you?” you glanced up at him incredulously.

“Now, don’t give me an ego,” he chuckled, and you laughed with him.

You quickly held his phone up to take a selfie with your tongue sticking out, adding it as your contact photo.  “There you go,” you handed it back to him, and he looked at it with a wide smile on his face.

“Aw, that’s rich,” he said, and you bit your lip.  “I really should hit the showers now, but, I’ll call you?”

“Okay,” you smiled, “I’ll answer.  Probably.”

He waved at you as he left, looking down at your contact in his phone one more time with a shake of his head, before disappearing into the little tunnel through the stands.

You told Tom you would wait for him until he was all done, but god, he was taking forever getting cleaned up.  In fact, everyone else had left when he finally came out in his change of clothes and found you leaning against the cement wall outside the practice facility.  “Fuck took you so long?” you groaned as he appeared.

“You know how long it takes to wash off after a match like that?” he laughed.  “You wouldn’t have walked home with me in the state I was in.”

“Okay, fair enough,” you sighed, “can we go now?” 

“Well, um— actually, I have to get my bag from the locker room…”

“Oh my god,” you whined.

“Don’t get teazy, I just have to pack up all my gear,” he scolded.

“I’m coming with you,” you insisted, “and helping you carry it so we can get fuckin’ home already.”

“Fine, fine,” he laughed, starting back as you followed along with him.  “Lucky for you, it’s empty.”

“Aw,” you faked a pout, “no sexy rugby boys to look at?”

“Just me,” he smiled— and fuck, he was joking, but it scared you for a second.

There was a little awkward pause while he guided you around the bend into the locker area, left surprisingly clean after the boys were finished; it was only Tom’s locker open, with his things all strewn about, and you sighed.  “Look at the mess you made…” you breathed, starting to help him clean it up and get his things together.

“Rhys finally asked you out, then?” Tommy grinned, elbowing you lightly.

“O-oh, yeah,” you breathed, “erm, well— he just got my number, no date yet or anything.”

“Well, it’s a start.  I didn’t want to give him your number for you, but he asked me for it— actually, he’s asked about you a couple times now.”

“You think he’s good enough for me?” you asked.

“I mean, I dunno,” Tommy shrugged, “I don’t know him that well.  But he seems nice enough— figure you can decide the rest.”

You sighed, nodding a little.

“If he tries anything, though, you let me know and I’ll set him straight, alright?” he added, and you laughed.

“Alright, I will,” you agreed, kneeling down to get some of his clothes from off the floor and stuff them into the duffel.  “Not sure how you’re gonna do that when he’s got a metre on you and maybe twenty pounds of muscle—”

“Shut up,” Tom scoffed.  “You know I can take any guy down if it’s got to do with you.”

Your throat caught, and you stood up again.  "Tommy, listen, I actually— I wanted to… talk to you."

He cleared his throat, looking nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck.  "Yeah?  You're all good, right?  Everythin's okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nodded, leaning back against the lockers, "I just… I was thinking about you."

He stepped up closer to you, close enough that your heart started to race.  "Oh… what about me?"

"Well, about us," you clarified, "you and me— I want… erm…"

"Hm?"

"I just— you know how we sometimes…?"

He leaned his head in a little closer, waiting with raised eyebrows for you to get to your point.

"That thing we do, sometimes?" you started again.  "I wanna… do it again."

He nodded, like he understood, but then paused and moved his mouth over to the side.  "You wanna go to the cinema?"

You laughed, more out of frustration than amusement, and tilted your head forward to rest on his chest.  "God, Tommy…"

"What?" he laughed.

"I— I want—"  

You couldn't look up at him as you said it.  You took a deep breath and tried to compose your bravery.

"I want us to touch each other again," you finally rushed out.  You waited for him to say something, or do something, but he didn't.  “Like when we were on holiday,” you recalled, toying with the hem of his shirt.  “And that night on the bay…”

“God, birdie, I— I dunno if I can do that again,” he breathed, and you felt your eyes start to burn a bit.

“Really, Tommy?” you sighed.  “I’m that… repulsive?  Or is it Rhys?  ‘Cause all he’s done is get my number—”

“N-no,” he groaned, “shit, m’not makin’ any sense.  I can’t do that again with you because it’s too hard, okay?”

You looked up at him, knitting your eyebrows together.  “What’s too hard?”

“Touchin’ you like that,” he whispered— even now, the way he said made your spine tingle— glancing down from your eyes to your lips and back, “and havin’ to act normal again.  Not bein’ your boyfriend.”

Of everything you thought he might say then, you never expected that.  You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, even when you bit your bottom lip.  A laugh broke out through your grin, and you had to cover your mouth to try to hide it.

“Jesus, you’re laughin’ at me now!” he lamented.  “I finally tell you and you laugh at me!  You’re heartless, you know that?”

“No, Tommy, v’got a heart— and it’s all yours,” you promised, standing up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.  He gave you a confused look, and you laughed again.  “You don’t get it do you, still?  I’ve fancied you for ages— proper in love with you, really.  Kept askin’ you to do all that stuff ‘cause, well, you’re all I think about anyways.  Thought you were just doing me favours.”

After a pause, he finally laughed with you.  “Am I a fuckin’ idiot, then?  You’ve had it goin’ for me all this time and I didn’t notice?”

“You’re a little stupid,” you mitigated.  “I think I was being pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, and what about me?” he noticed.  “I’ve been all over you forever— kissin’ and huggin’ you, cuddling all the time— you didn’t notice that I think you’re fit?”

You shrugged.  "You've always been like that."

"Yeah!" he emphasised.

"Ohhhh," you nodded, "hm.  Okay, we're both a little stupid."

“Birdie,” he smiled, and your heart melted, because he’d never said it quite like that before.  He leaned in and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“You can really kiss me, you know,” you told him, and he pulled away just enough to look at you with an impossible-to-read expression.  “I-if you want,” you mitigated suddenly, and he smiled at you, then laughed.

“Aw, fuck, Tommy,” you turned your head to the side, “you’re awful…”

He put his hand on the side of your face, gently turning you to look at him.  “Yeah,” he agreed.  And then he moved in closer and kissed you— properly, finally.  You shut your eyes, your chest emptying with a sigh; his other hand held your face then, too, and you reached up to hold his wrists.  Your right hand felt the worn-out old bracelet that he still wore, and you couldn’t help but smile a bit against him.  He smiled, too.

“Tommy,” you sighed, reaching out and grabbing him by his belt to pull him closer.  He pressed his forehead on yours, looking down at your hands working on the buckle shakily. 

“Birdie, c’mon,” he gasped, “not here—”

You pouted a little, and he laughed.

“We waited all this time and you can’t wait until we get home?”

“Yes!” you whined.  “I need you…”

“Shit,” he groaned, kissing you again— but just for a few very passionate seconds before he pulled back once more.  “We’ll go home and I’ll do this right, I swear.”

“Why can’t we just do it here?” you wondered.

“Because if you told me some guy had taken your virginity in a rugby practice field locker room, I would kill him,” Tom frowned.  

You laughed.  “Fine, fine… let’s go home.”

~ 

Thank god his parents weren’t home.  You didn’t want to try to be quiet.

He had you in his bed the second the door was shut, kissing you voraciously as he helped you undress and tore his own shirt and trousers off.  For a guy who was just preaching patience, he was pretty hasty all of a sudden.

When all you had on were your panties, he set his arms straight to hover over you and stare down at you, looking a little dumbstruck.  You almost felt self-conscious enough to try to cover your chest, but he smiled at you and you felt a little better.  “You’re so… fuck, birdie, you’re pretty.”

It was a simple compliment, but it felt incredibly powerful when he said it like that.  He was in his boxers, and it wasn’t too much more skin than you’d already seen while swimming with him and such, but it was different with his massive hard-on making a visible imprint in the patterned cotton.  

Gently, he spread your legs, and tightened his jaw at the sight of the wet patch on your underwear.  “Oh, fuck,” he sighed.

“I always get like that,” you admitted quietly.  “Should be easy for you to fuck me, right?”

“Yes, yeah,” he agreed, “but m’not gonna fuck you yet.”

You frowned a little, and he laughed as he kissed you again.

“I told you I’m doing this the right way,” he insisted, “it’s your first time.  It’ll hurt if I just go for it.”

He leaned back and sat up, bringing his hands down to the waistband of your panties and gently dragging them down your legs; you felt gooseflesh spread all over your body.

“Oh, darling,” he whispered as he opened your legs again, looking right at you now.  You squirmed a little, but his grip on your thighs was tight.  “I need you to tell me now if you’ve changed your mind about this… ‘cause I can already tell I’m gonna have a hard time stopping once I start.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you were sure, you were so sure.  “I haven’t changed my mind,” you promised.

“I won’t get mad at you or anything,” he assured.

“I know— I’m sure,” you breathed.  Wondering if you should return the sentiment, you asked, "You're sure you wanna do this?  With me?"

"Birdie, I've wanted to do this with you since I knew what this was," he smiled.

"And you don't mind that I've never…"

"No, birdie, I don't mind," he laughed.  "Think it's perfect actually.  Couldn't let any other lad be your first.  Couldn't let any other lad touch you like this."

You bit your lip.  “You were gonna let me go out with Rhys,” you reminded him.

“I let you give him your number.  We hadn’t even gotten to you going out with him,” Tom corrected.  “And I was acting fine as best I could but I was really jumpin’, birdie, thinking about if something might happen with you two— something like this…”

You whined as you tugged on his shirt, hoping to hide your face in his neck, but he pulled his face back so he could look down at you with a smile.  "Tommy, please," you whimpered.  

"Please, what?" he encouraged.

"Jus' need you…"

He kissed your neck again, making your back arch and your hands grab onto his shoulders, and pressed his hips down against you.  You whined at the feeling of his erection through clothes, but opened your eyes in confusion when he pulled back again just a moment later, hovering over you.  "Say my name when I make you come, yeah?" he instructed, and you nodded.  "Try it on for size just once, why don'tya," he encouraged with a smile.

"Tommy," you smiled back, and he kissed the tip of your nose.

"That's m'girl," he praised, before crawling back down, kissing a trail over your stomach, moving his hand up your thigh.

He just kept his face right up close to you, watching his finger swipe through your folds, then watching it gently circle your clit.  You whimpered, and felt your insides flex on nothing.  Apparently, that made him want to give you something to clench on— he gently slipped his pointer finger past your opening, and you let out a long sigh.

“So warm inside,” he observed.  He pulled the finger back out a second later, putting it in his mouth and humming happily.  He put his mouth on you at the same time that he put the finger back in, along with a second; that was a lot to take in, and your back arched up off the bed instantly.  He mouthed at your clit, swirling his tongue around while his lips created this wonderful pressure; you had to grab onto his hair, and thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind.

Eventually, he did have to break away for a second.  "Wondered how you'd taste," he admitted with a sigh.  

"Well?" you prompted.

"Taste like 'eaven, birdie," he purred.  "Sweet little pussy— an' it's all for me?"

"All yours," you nodded, and he growled a little as he dove back in.

The tip of his tongue slid right up from your opening to where your clit was swollen and throbbing— he pushed his tongue flat against it and you whimpered loudly.  He started to really fuck you with his fingers then, rather than just letting the natural movement of your hips force you to ride them; they curled inside you, hitting a spot that made your own fingers curl into fists in his hair.  You didn’t want to hurt him, but he didn’t mind getting his hair pulled, apparently, and just moaned lowly against you.

The pressure started weighing on your gut after a while, your pussy tensing up on him faster and faster until it was just bearing down on him unendingly.  “Fuck, Tommy,” you gasped.

“C’mon, birdie,” he mumbled against you, “wan’ you to come.  Go ahead and come for me, yeah?”

You called out his name one more time, and it all spilled over at once; he shut his eyes tight, letting you pull his face right up against you by his curls as your hips bucked and grinded on him.  You sobbed weakly, and when it was suddenly too much, he broke away and pinned you down for a messy kiss.

It left you even more breathless than you already were.  When he pulled back, his eyes were a little glazed over and his lips and chin were a lot glazed over; he gave you a crooked smile.  “Taste how sweet you are?” he purred.  You wouldn’t call it sweet, really, but it still turned you on like crazy to hear him say it.

“Please, Tom,” you gasped, grabbing his shoulders, “you’ll fuck me now, right?”

He nodded, and you let out a sigh of relief.  “Sure you’re ready?” he asked, laughing when you groaned and punched him on the arm.

“Course I’m fuckin’ ready!” you snapped.  “God, Tommy, you always give ‘em all this rigamarole first?”

He shook his head.  “Just you, birdie… it was always just you.”

Kissing you again, his breath changed as he reached down to push his boxers out of the way and kick them off to the floor.  The way it felt to have his bare skin against yours as he lowered himself down was… euphoric.  Warm and soft and smooth, and when he wrapped you in his arms, it felt like he could just absorb you entirely.  You wouldn’t mind it if he did.

He'd prepared you so well that there was only one quick sting of pain when he pushed inside you— though just that was still enough to make one tiny tear roll down your temple, which he kissed away softly.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.  You nodded.  "I need you to tell me, birdie."

"I'm okay," you promised through a sigh.  "It hurts a little, b-but please don't stop."

"You're sure?"

"Please!"

He pushed his hips flush with yours and you gritted your teeth, though everything in you relaxed just a moment later; and all that was left was the fullness, the warmth of him, the way his eyes sparkled as he looked down at you.  "You're so beautiful," he whispered to you, and you bit your lip.

"I love you, Tommy," you mumbled weakly, and he planted one soft kiss on your mouth.

"I love you too, darling."

He carefully began to move, needing to reach down with one hand to keep your hips steady.  Your moans were shaky at first, but got louder and more even with each movement.  

"You're… so deep," you breathed.  "Tommy, I— I didn't know anything could be so deep in me."

"Well, I am," he grinned.  "I'm right… here."

He pressed down on your stomach, right on the spot where the tip of his cock reached— and your eyes rolled back.  "Ohh, god," you whined.

"You feel it, love?" he cooed.

"Yes, yes," you groaned.  "Fuck, Tommy, why didn't you tell me you had a perfect cock?"

He laughed a little, leaning down to kiss you on the jaw.  "Guess it never came up."

"Does it always… is it always like this?" you wondered.  "It's so good, does it always feel this good?"

He shook his head, kissing your forehead and then trailing down your nose and cheek.  "No, it's not always like this," he answered quietly.  "Not for me, anyway.  It's never been like this."

His lips met yours again, and you reached up to weave your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck.  He groaned a little, moving his hips faster, and you smiled.  "Do you wanna fuck me harder?" you asked.

"Fuck," he mumbled, "I— I could.  Do you want me to?"

"I can take it," you promised.

Picking up the pace slightly, he held you tighter; and you felt each impact a little harder, the sound of his skin on yours echoing around the room.  “Like that?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered— you meant it more neutral than it came out, it sounded proper pornographic the way you said it, and he smiled.  “More, Tommy, please?  Jus’ want more…”

He hissed but did as he was told, latching onto your neck with his lips as he let something a little more animalistic take over, making you cry out and hold onto him tighter.  “Beautiful,” he grunted, “you’re so beautiful, birdie— you sound beautiful.”

“It’s just ‘cause you’re making me sound like this,” you sighed, clutching at his back, too overwhelmed by pleasure to worry about scratching him up.

“I’m giving you a hickey this time,” he informed you.  “You want my mark on you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted, “always, Tommy— fuck, always wanted it.”

“‘Cause you’re mine, yeah?”

“Always,” you whimpered.

“A-ah, shit— when it’s time, I'll pull out, okay?" he offered.

"No," you whined, wrapping your legs around his hips.  "Tommy, please, want it inside…"

"Birdie," he breathed roughly, "if you say things like that, I-I'll come too fast."

“Don’t care,” you whimpered.  “Promise you’re gonna come inside me.”

“F-fuck,” he groaned, “erm— yeah, m’gonna come in ya, okay?”

You choked out the shortest sob of joy.  “Please, please— fuck, I’ll come again…”

“Yeah, fuck, c’mon then,” he praised, “just say my name, birdie— I wanna hear my name.”

“Tommy,” you cried, feeling him gasp against your neck as another wave of heat spread over your body; feeling him flex inside you right as you hit your own peak was so perfect.  You could’ve never described your emotions in that moment with words, but they found their way out anyways: you started crying, instantly.

“Don’t cry, birdie, shh,” he soothed quietly, wiping your tears away with his thumb.  “C’mon, darling, don’t cry—”

“N-no, Tommy,” you sniffled, “I’m just happy— I’m so happy, I swear…”

So he let you cry, and held you close to him; he didn’t leave until you fell asleep, even though he said he was just going to get you a washcloth and a cup of water and come right back.  He played with your hair and kissed your face, and just talked about all the normal things you usually talked about— as in, everything.  But this time, it was actually everything, no more hidden feelings.

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but after one of those dreamless sleeps that went by quickly— like you’d only shut your eyes for a few minutes— you woke up tangled with him and his sheets.  Turning on your side as best you could, you looked at his sleeping face and smiled to yourself.  He woke up just a bit later, cutting your staring short, and smiled back at you.

“Top of the morning, my ‘ansum,” you greeted as you pinched his cheek.  He laughed and batted your hand away, hiding his face from the sun under his arm.  

“You kicked me in your sleep,” he grumbled.

“So it’s all over, then?  Final straw, you’re finally getting rid of me?” you joked.

“Mm, I thought about it,” he snorted, making you laugh.  He popped his face up again and started to kiss your face all over.

“Tommy, stop,” you whined.

“You can’t make me stop now,” he pointed out, “it’s one thing to get your best friend to stop kissing you, but your boyfriend?  Nah, m’not stopping.”

You laughed, his hand on your waist pulling you closer to him only making you feel more ticklish and squirm more.  You only stilled when he grabbed your face and gave you a real kiss, and everything seemed to slow down quite a bit.  You kissed him back, properly, reaching up to weave your fingers in his hair.  “So, you’re my boyfriend, then?” you noticed when you broke away.

“No, I think we’re still just friends,” he nodded, and you laughed and shoved him on the chest.  

“Might as well be, everything we did before sayin’ we were only friends,” you admitted.

“I’m whatever you want me to be, birdie,” he promised.

[wintrrrsoldier]

hello my lovely people, have any of y’all read this eddie fix in which the reader is a henderson and dustin doesn’t want the reader and eddie to get together??? i think the last chapter i read ended with the reader cooking lunch for eddie since he didn’t have anything and it was just so cute but i can’t find it :(

[wintrrrsoldier]

ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀʟʟᴡᴀʏ [ᴏɴᴇ/?]

part two of right where you left me

<3 Rockstar! Eddie x Fem! Reader

genre: fluff

genre of mini series: fluff to angst

summary: it seems like hallways, (and falling) were you and Eddie’s destiny.

inspired by: Harry Styles song, “Meet Me in the Hallway”

warnings of this chapter: nothing really, love at first sight (on Eddie’s side), clumsy reader, shorter than Eddie reader (briefly mentioned), some descriptions of readers facial features (very brief), cigarette use, mini dates, sugary sweet fluff, 3k words, Eddie being absolutely smitten, first kiss, apartment floor trope, takes place in 1981 (let’s pretend that they were in high school years before 1986 lol), this is basically part one of a multi-part (maybe?) series. 

note: Hi guys:) This can be read as a stand alone, however it does interconnect with my other one-shot. This is basically a backstory and aftermath of my other one shot, in Eddie’s POV of Right Where You Left Me. This is part one of a mini series that I came up with. Please bare with me I’m kind of having writer’s block lol. Also, some of Eddie’s thoughts are kind of inspired from Miles in Ugly Love by Colleen Hoover. The first chapters of this mini series will be backstories to my first one-shot, Right Where You Left Me.

tags: @bambi-laufeyson @falllen-stark @zaggprincess @fangirling-4-ever

@imasimptoowth @spicypiscesbabe @fujiihime @sashaphantomhive

Eddie’s POV

September 20th, 1981, 9:50 A.M.

Location: Indianapolis, Indiana; Apartment Complex 

Keep reading

[wintrrrsoldier]

shang-chi and the legend of the ten rings is the best marvel movie since black panther and thats definitely not a coincidence 

when marvel gets it right, they get it REALLY right and thats mostly having to do with actors, directors and script writers who can relate to the source material and know exactly what it means to people