#// is not steve and being bad at flirting

[mcdynamite]

When everything settles down after Vecnapocalypse, Steve gets a call from the athletic director at Hawkins High School, and a day later, he accepts a part-time position as the assistant coach of the Hawkins High varsity basketball team.

Lucas is obviously stoked, and the other kids concede (after a few minutes of bemoaning Steve's return to the Dark Side) that it's a perfect job for him. Robin screeches with delight, and Nancy tells him she's proud of him, and Jonathan thumps him on the back with a quiet, "Congrats, man," and Eddie?

Well, Eddie just rolls his eyes and makes a joke about the Return of the King that goes right over Steve's head (but has the kids and, wouldn't ya know it, Nancy, grinning) and doesn't say much else.

It's probably stupid, but Eddie has actually (horrifyingly) grown to like hanging out with Steve. Sure, he knows next to nothing about D&D or Lord of the Rings or metal music, but that doesn't seem to matter all that much. He still listens to Eddie rant about all of those aforementioned interests and does his best to understand, even if he doesn't particularly care about the content of Eddie's latest campaign. He lets Eddie play Dio and Metallica and Black Sabbath for him, and even though Eddie can tell he's not really into most of their music, at the end of his "Musication" he gives Eddie a list of the songs he actually liked, so they have some stuff to listen to when they hang out that won't make one of them want to puncture their own eardrums.

He even looks genuinely apologetic (and, dare Eddie say, disappointed?) when he tells Eddie that it's not that he doesn't want to read Lord of the Rings. It's just that he can't, because reading is really fucking hard when the letters won't stop jumping all over the damn place.

The point is: Eddie likes Steve. He likes Steve's sarcastic quips and his attentiveness, and his hilarious but well-meaning and frighteningly successful mothering of the teenagers they apparently co-parent. Eddie likes Steve, and he likes being his friend, and he's afraid that this stupid Assistant Coach job will end up dragging Steve headfirst back into his King Steve days, and Steve will forget all about being friends with Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

It's so, so stupid, because while Eddie likes Steve, he also knows Steve, and he knows that Steve isn't the guy who used to hang around the Tommy Hagans of the world anymore. But the fear is there, and it's still there by the time the school year starts and Steve starts getting busy "prepping" for his new job, which... what? The basketball season doesn't start until January, so what the hell kind of prep would Steve be starting in August?

Eddie wonders, but he doesn't ask. He just anxiously waits to see if Steve will eventually decide to ditch him, and he continues to be quietly delighted when Steve always, always makes time for the two of them to hang out.

The thought of Steve going back into jock-mode still makes him kinda sick, but he'll never tell Steve that. Steve is way too excited for the start of the basketball season, and Eddie is gonna support him the same way Steve supports Eddie at his Corroded Coffin concerts: with begrudging interest and genuine pride, so help him God.

It goes on like this until one day, Eddie's begrudging interest suddenly becomes a little more genuine, when he accidentally stumbles upon what Steve meant for the last three months whenever he said he was "prepping for the season." 

He's got plans to hang out with Steve that afternoon, pulling up in his van fifteen minutes late because time management has never been one of his strong suits. Only, when he gets to Casa Harrington, he notices something strange. The garage is open.

The thing is, Steve always parks the Beemer in the driveway. He never uses the garage. Actually, Eddie didn't even realize Steve had a garage at all, until now, but he hears some clanging coming from inside and goes to investigate. He walks past the Beemer (parked in the driveway where it always is) and peers inside, expecting to maybe find Steve... repairing something? Reorganizing? Honestly, he has no clue what he thinks he'll find in there.

What he definitely doesn't expect to find is Steve Harrington in the middle of what appears to be a pretty fucking intense workout – hair and tank top damp with sweat, wearing frankly indecently short shorts, and breathing steadily as he does fucking pull-ups on the bar in his garage, which has apparently been converted into a whole goddamn home gym.

Eddie stops in his tracks and stares, affording himself a moment or two to have a teeny, tiny (enormous) crisis over it.

Steve hasn't noticed him yet, and Eddie can't tear his stupid eyes away from the way Steve's arms tremble from the exertion as he pulls himself up, face pinched into a concentrated frown. Eddie can see him gritting his teeth, can see the muscles in his arms and shoulders straining a little bit. Even worse, every time Steve lowers himself down, his stupid tank top rides up just enough to expose the (not at all soft, apparently) plains of his stomach, glistening with sweat, and God, Eddie wants to lick Steve fucking Harrington's abs like a-

Oh, no.

Oh, fuck no.

Oh, Jesus H. Christ, fucking shit, NO.

Listen... It's not like Eddie hasn't already known for years that he's gay. He's been fully aware of that since middle school. It's the reason his dad kicked him out and sent him to live with Wayne, for fuck's sake. It's just that Eddie has put a lot of effort into pretending his thoughts about Steve Harrington were totally, completely, 100% platonic up until this point, and now he can feel all of that hard work going down the metaphorical drain.

He stands there, stock still with his jaw hinged open, and stares while his brain melts out of his ears and his thoughts begin to race. God, those fucking arms. Eddie's not weak, but he's definitely weaker than Steve, which means Steve could definitely pin Eddie down if he wanted to. In a bed. Against the wall. On the hood of a car. Fuck, on the goddamn floor – Eddie's not picky! All he knows is that he wants Steve to leave the workout for later so Eddie can lick the sweat off of him, which... gross. But also hot. But also-

"Eddie?"

Oh, fuck. How does one talk to the sun?

Steve has noticed him standing there, obviously, which sort of makes Eddie wonder how long he's been staring. Time stopped in Eddie's world the moment a sweaty Steve Harrington entered his field of vision, so he truly has no idea how bad his staring got.

Christ, this is going to be so bad.

So, so bad.

"Eds?" Steve says, his face pinching into a frown. "You okay?"

Oh my god, you moron, say something! Eddie's brain screams at him.

"What?" Smooth. "Uh, yeah! Totally fine. Just, y'know, like, lost in thought, or whatever. Plotting my next demonic attempt at world domination. The usual."

Steve looks at him like he's grown a second head, which... is fair. But Eddie's fumbling attempt at speech is at least embarrassing enough to take precedence over the cacophonous sound of whatever Ode to Abs his mind was attempting to compose, and Eddie feels like he can think a little more clearly.

"Ah, fuck," Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He sighs and looks at Steve apologetically. "I'm sorry, dude. I swear I'm fine. It's just been a weird day."

Steve cocks his head to the side like a particularly inquisitive puppy, and oh God, it's adorable. Eddie loathes how adorable it is. "Good weird?" Steve asks. "Or bad weird?"

Eddie ponders his answer for a moment, then replies with, "Weird weird."

That's enough to startle a laugh out of Steve, who shakes his head and wraps a towel around his neck. "Fair enough, man. Sorry about all of this, by the way." He gestures vaguely towards the home gym in his garage and shrugs sheepishly. "I was gonna be done before you got here but I sorta... lost track of time, I guess." He's got an unreadable look on his stupidly beautiful face, and Eddie doesn't like that at all. He doesn't like that one bit.

But he decides not to overthink it and brushes Steve's apology off with a wave of his hand. "It's whatever, dude. Might wanna shower, though." The ‘otherwise I might take it upon my gay little self to lick you clean’ is left blessedly unsaid.

Steve laughs again, and just like that, things start to feel a bit less earth-shattering. They banter for a bit longer, then Steve really does go to take a quick shower, and they spend the rest of the night lying on the floor of Steve's living room, listening to the metal mix tape they made together and bitching about their brood of teenagers.

Weirdly, though, after that day, Steve seems to be working out a lot more frequently. As in almost every single time he and Eddie have plans. Day after day, Eddie is treated to the sight of Steve Harrington looking like a goddamn Greek god, and day after day, Steve catches his eye and smiles before abandoning his equipment and acting like Eddie's world hasn't been completely turned on its head.

It's starting to drive him kind of insane, honestly, and his pining has gotten so bad that even Gareth and Jeff know.

"He's just so pretty!" Eddie whines for what feels like the thousandth time.

His band mates simply exchange a long-suffering look and let him ramble.

It all comes to a head in November, just before Thanksgiving, when Eddie shows up and once again finds Steve finishing a workout. Just like always, Steve shoots him a good-natured grin and greets him before heading inside for a quick shower, and just like always, Eddie waits downstairs.

NOT like always, however, this time Steve comes jogging down the stairs with wet hair, wearing a pair of joggers and... absolutely nothing else.

It's been a long time since Eddie last saw Steve without a shirt on (since the day at Lover's Lake when they found watergate, to be precise), and suddenly Eddie is remembering why he'd immediately pulled out a cigarette to calm down that day. Only this time it's even worse, because Steve has really been putting effort into these workouts, and it shows.

His chest is toned and covered in coarse hair that Eddie kind of wants to tug on, just to see what sort of sounds Steve would make if he did. He's got the makings of an honest-to-God six pack just barely visible on his abdomen, partially obscured by scars Eddie recognizes from looking at his own in the mirror. Steve's are slightly smaller and not as deep, but they clearly came from the same sets of tiny jaws, and Eddie finds them weirdly comforting, these matching scars that they share. Steve's look pale in contrast against his skin, and God, Eddie just wants to kiss them. He wants to worship them and every other inch of the man who bears them.

The man who definitely just said something Eddie didn't hear because he was too busy trying not to pass out from mere proximity to something so beautiful.

"Sorry, what?" Eddie asks, shaking his head violently in an attempt to dispel his traitorous thoughts.

Steve smirks, but Eddie can see the soft fondness in his eyes when he cocks his head to the side and repeats the words Eddie missed the first time. "I asked if you see something you like, Munson," Steve teases, one hand carding wet hair out of his face, and Eddie just blinks at him.

Play it off, play it off, play it off, his brain supplies helpfully. He can totally play this off. Dudes stare at their friends’ chests all the time, right?

"What?" he practically squeaks. "I- well... no, wait, um... ah, fuck."

So much for plausible deniability.

He's just beginning to feel vaguely panicky when Steve seems to catch on, and he's right in front of Eddie in an instant, concerned, hazel eyes gazing down at Eddie's grimacing face.

"Hey," Steve says, reaching out like he wants to touch Eddie but thinks better of it. "It's okay, man. You're okay. I'm just messing with you."

The impact of his words is instant, and Eddie can feel his face heating up. Of course Steve was joking. God, Eddie is such an idiot.

"Right," Eddie says, voice strained. He rubs his face with both hands, shaking his head lightly. "Duh. Obviously you were teasing." His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, and he's got a weird feeling of anticipation in his stomach that tells him that he's already shown too many of his cards.

"I mean, yeah..." Steve says, seeming nervous for the first time since Eddie got here. His hands flit from the back of his neck to his hair to his waist, like he doesn't know what to do with them. "Teasing is, like, flirting 101, so..."

Eddie freezes.

"Oh my God, wait..." he says slowly, finally daring to meet Steve's confused eyes. "Flirting?"

Steve looks utterly perplexed now, and he does that thing where he cocks his head to the side in confusion. 

It's still adorable. Fuck, why is it so adorable? 

"Um... yes?" He studies Eddie, seems to register the shock on his face, and then matches it with shock of his own. "Wait, you didn't know? I thought you knew!"

"I most certainly did not!" Eddie counters, feeling a bit like he's having an out-of-body experience.

"Oh my God," Steve says. "Oh my God, Eddie, I've been flirting with you for, like, months!"

"Months?!" Eddie's voice has officially reached the stratosphere.

"Yes!" Steve yelps. He looks torn between laughing and crying, though Eddie thinks it'll be mildly hilarious no matter what choice he makes. "Jesus, dude, I winked at you while I was doing pull-ups last week! What did you think that was?"

"A hallucination!" Eddie says immediately. "You're straight, Harrington!"

At that, Steve snorts, then shakes his head.

Eddie's pretty sure his brain is melting by now.

"Yeah, um, no," Steve says firmly. "I'm definitely not straight."

"You... I... What? Since when?"

"Well..." Steve begins, briefly glancing away. "Since forever, technically. Probably. But officially, since that time I made out with Tommy H. after we got wasted at a party sophomore year. And if that wasn't enough proof, I think the amount of time I’ve spent staring at your ass lately definitely is."

Eddie stares at him. "Am I dead?" he asks dumbly. "Is this Heaven? Am I having a fucking stroke?"

Steve's laughter is bright when it rings through his living room, and Eddie is grateful when Steve carefully raises a hand to cup his cheek, because the soft touch is grounding in the best way. 

"Definitely not dead, Eds," Steve says. "And shit, I hope you're not having a stroke. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Eddie just blinks at him, because Steve has one hand on Eddie's cheek and the other on Eddie's arm, and he's definitely not holding up any fingers. "Zero, Harrington, what the fuck?" he says weakly.

Steve laughs – no, scratch that, he giggles. He fucking giggles. 

If Eddie isn't dead yet, he's about to be. 

"Good. See?" Steve says. "Not having a stroke."

"I don't think that's how strokes work, dude," Eddie says weakly.

"No?" Steve asks, though he's still smiling, and he looks wholly unbothered by Eddie's doubting of his medical prowess.

Eddie shakes his head, eyes wide as Steve huffs out a laugh and slips an arm around his waist to pull him closer. They're practically chest to chest now, and Eddie is suddenly reminded of how very shirtless Steve currently is. He's mildly horrified by the way his hands tremble slightly when he rests them flat against the center of Steve's chest, but it's not like anyone can blame him! He's only ever kissed a couple of people before, and now he's somehow found himself in the arms of a half naked Steve Harrington. So, yeah, he's feeling a little jittery. Sue him.

If Steve notices the jitters, though, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he gives Eddie a soft, disarming smile that makes Eddie feel pathetically weak at the knees. "So..." Steve says, cheeks turning a pretty pink color. "Hi."

A slightly manic bark of laughter bursts from Eddie's lungs, but it only seems to make Steve smile wider. "Yeah, hi, Stevie," Eddie breathes. 

And then he nearly stops breathing completely when Steve's thumb drags gently across his cheek. It's such a sweet gesture that Eddie thinks he might melt right into the floorboards.

"So..." Steve murmurs again, gaze not leaving Eddie's. "It has recently been brought to my attention that you didn't realize I was flirting with you this whole time."

Eddie doesn't need a mirror to know that his face flushes bright red at Steve's words.

"But I have been," Steve continues. He bites his lip, almost like he's nervous, which is ridiculous because what the fuck is there about Eddie that could be making Steve Harrington nervous right now? "Like, I've been doing it constantly, because you're funny, and sweet, and sort of adorable, but also kinda hot? Y'know, because you have the tattoos and stuff, and you're all dramatic all the time, and it's hot, but then sometimes you do that thing where you hide your face behind your hair, and it's so fucking cute, Eddie, I mean..."

Steve trails off, cheeks growing even pinker after seemingly realizing that he's been rambling, and Eddie feels like he's going insane.

"Anyway," Steve says, clearing his throat. "I like you, Eddie. Like, a lot. And I've sort of been dying to kiss you for, like, months, so-"

Eddie never lets Steve finish his sentence, because the moment the word kiss leaves his mouth, Eddie is leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a soft, fleeting kiss that's over far too fast.

So fast, in fact, that it takes a moment for reality to catch up to Eddie afterwards. He's already pulling away by the time it hits him: he just kissed Steve Harrington.

He, Eddie fucking Munson, just kissed Steve fucking Harrington.

"Holy shit," Eddie mutters, gaze flitting back and forth between Steve's wide eyes. "Holy shit."

There's a brief pause, and then Steve starts to laugh.

It starts as a soft chuckle and slowly transforms into bright, elated laughter that echoes off the walls and bathes the whole room in sunlight, never mind the rainy day outside. It's light and happy and beautiful, and Eddie unfreezes after a moment to add his own laughter to the mix. He drops his head onto Steve's shoulder, a shiver running down his spine when Steve's arms come around him automatically, like they were made to fit together like this.

Eddie wonders if maybe they were.

When their laughter finally dies down, Steve carefully pulls back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes again, and Eddie smiles shyly up at him.

"Sorry," Eddie says without a hint of guilt in his voice. "You said the word kiss and I panicked."

Steve just shakes his head and grins. "See? Like I said - adorable." One of his hands raises to cradle Eddie's cheek again, and Eddie doesn't hesitate before leaning into the touch. "But if it's okay with you," Steve says softly, “I'd really like to give you a proper kiss, now."

And yep, it's official. Steve Harrington is going to be the death of him.

Eddie can't fucking wait.

He nods and lets his gaze flit down to Steve's lips for a fraction of a second before Steve is closing the distance between them, and oh... this is so much better than the quick, vaguely frantic press of lips they exchanged only a few moments ago. Eddie takes back every judgemental comment he's ever made about the girls who were obsessed with Steve Harrington in high school, because he gets it now.

Oh, God, he gets it.

Because Steve kisses him, soft and sure, like Eddie is the only thing that matters in all the world. It's gentle and sweet and perfect – not an ounce of hesitation in the way Steve slots their lips together. And then Steve just... stays there, like he's giving Eddie a moment to catch up, to process what's happening.

He's so goddamn patient – so fucking kind – and Christ, Eddie adores him for it.

Steve pulls back just enough to break the kiss, and Eddie doesn't whine. He doesn't. But it's okay, because Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long, threading his fingers through Eddie's curls and using them as leverage to tug him even closer into a kiss that turns Eddie's legs to jelly. Steve's tongue slides against Eddie's so beautifully, and his hands are so strong, and he smells like lemony soap and minty toothpaste (did Steve brush his teeth after showering? God, he's ridiculous. He’s perfect.) and Eddie can feel the muscles in Steve's chest shift whenever they move, and, and, and...

And yeah, this time when Steve pulls away, breath coming quicker and eyes shining with happiness, Eddie does whine. Or maybe it's a whimper. Maybe it's both. Christ, Eddie doesn't care. He'll keep making that noise forever if Steve keeps looking at him like this.

"Fuck," Eddie breathes. He knows he probably looks embarrassingly awestruck, but he can't find it in himself to care. "How are you so fucking hot, Steve? What the fuck?" His face is on fire, but Steve just laughs – nope, there's that giggle again – and kisses Eddie's forehead.

Eddie's pretty sure he's melting, but honestly? Worth it.

"I don't know if you've noticed," Steve teases, "but I've actually been working out a lot lately..."

Not even Eddie's lovesickness could protect Steve from the playful smack he gets for that.

"Did I notice?" Eddie huffs. "You're the worst, Harrington."

Steve just smiles and kisses him again.

[symbioticsimplicity]

As much as I like the idea of Steve and Eddie immediately being comfortable around each other, I also really want it to be a progression.

Give me Steve who isn’t used to a lot of physical contact, even though he desperately wants it. He isn't used to just getting what he wants from people anymore. Especially things he wants bone deep. He kind of associates people giving him what he wants with being an asshole which he's trying hard not to be so it loops back around to him being afraid to get what he wants.

Not to mention the very real possibility of internalized homophobia. While Robin and Will being queer is absolutely fine with him, being queer himself is a different beast altogether. He can suspend biases for his friends because they're wonderful and he loves them to the moon and back. But whenever he thinks about how much he wants to play with Eddie's hair or how happy he feels when Eddie calls him by one of his nicknames for him, a voice that sounds suspiciously like Richard Harrington tears him apart over it.

In Eddie's case, he doesn't fully believe that Steve would want any of his usual affection. There's way better people than him that Steve could get that from.

He was mainly invading his space to try to get a reaction out of him before he realized he's actually a good dude. He lays off out of respect, but he hates it. He's always been physical with his friends, and he's come to like Steve a lot. But he sees a divide between them, a social one, despite being out of school. He doesn't want to be the one to drag such a pretty boy down into the muck of his life by being overly familiar with him.

This little dance could go on for months before one of them breaks.

I'd like to think its Steve who asks to be held. Like maybe he's just having a shit day and he's too tired to care about all the reasons he usually doesn't do this. His body aches in that way he knows is from not having had someone touch him in more than passing in a while, and Eddie is right there.

So he breaks down and asks if Eddie would be okay with hugging him.

He sounds miserable and Eddie has never had anyone ask if he's okay with giving them something as simple as a hug. He's not really used to people asking if he's alright with much of anything.

Of course he agrees and pulls Steve in for a lingering hug.

Its clear he isn't used to it, he's so tense and he's not really sure where to put his hands, so Eddie directs him what to do. It takes a few moments but Steve starts to relax more.

So Eddie rubs his back, pets his hair, lets him lean into him more. Its like trying to tame down a hurt dog, and he's sure Steve will bolt if he makes one wrong move. He wants to suggest they lay down, but thinks cuddling might be a little too advanced for now.

So he just holds Steve like that, and when they break away, he hesitates but chooses to be brave and tells him he can ask him for that any time he needs.

It takes a while, Steve has learned to subsist on minimal contact the way camels subsist on minimal water, but he does ask again.

And again.

And again.

Its gradual, but they both begin to gravitate toward one another. Steve no longer gently elbows Eddie away if he gets too close. And Eddie figures out where Steve is alright with being touched and in what settings. He's damn proud of himself for the nuance in that last part.

A few months into this new dynamic sees Steve initiating touches too. He gets incredibly nervous the first time, but Eddie seems happy with it so he doesn't stop himself from doing it again.

Soon they’ve hit the point of nearly always touching somehow. If they're in the same room they're sitting side by side. Steve plays with Eddie's rings almost as much as Eddie does. Eddie's legs belong in Steve's lap and vice versa. Steve is sure if he goes a full day without hugging Eddie he will in fact wither and die.

It doesn't take long after that for them to realize they’ve caught feelings. It does however take an age to talk about. Neither wants to ruin what they have, its so good and it took so much time and work to build. They work as friends and that should be plenty.

It isn't.

This time its Eddie who breaks.

Its during one of the nights Steve has stayed at his place long after sundown. The man is laying on Eddie's chest, legs interwoven, half asleep and watching TV. He's the portrait of comfort and when Eddie cards his hand through his hair, Steve makes this little content noise and it just slips out.

Three little words that make time stand still.

He knows Steve heard him, he felt him tense up. He wants to take it back just for that, but he's long since learned his lesson about being a coward. So he lays still and let's Steve process.

Steve who's mind is on fire right now.

He's sure Eddie couldn't have really meant that the way he wants him to. Its just wishful thinking projected onto platonic affection. Robin tells him she loves him all the time. But Eddie is still rubbing his back and he's gonna lose it trying to figure this out by himself.

So he asks, and they talk and they learn they're both kind of idiots.

They agree to give dating a try.

Its quickly apparent that's what they were meant to be doing all along. At this point it comes easily, naturally even.

Up until their first kiss.

Its not that they don't want to kiss, they definitely do, its that Eddie's never done it before and Steve has never kissed a guy.

Just like everything else, it takes some work to get right. The first time Steve had flinched a little when Eddie's stubble had grazed him, and the second time Eddie got a little overzealous with his tongue.

It takes practice, but they’re willing to put in the work.

Soon they share the kind of kisses that are easy to get lost in. They once spent the better part of a Saturday afternoon just kissing, with Steve sat comfortably in Eddie's lap.

Eventually they build up to more and that's when their patience and the lessons they've learned about each other up until this point really get put to the test.

Once again, Eddie doesn’t have any experience in this arena. He’d had daydreams a plenty, but he’s never actually touched another person intimately before. Steve has, but only girls and only so far. He thinks some things ought to carry over, but when they get to the part that involves stripping off clothes, he panics a little.

The first time they don’t make it very far. They want to, more than almost anything, but their joint fumbling wrecks the mood pretty quickly. They get as far as their boxers before they both concede and let themselves head back to their comfort zone, which is long makeouts. It makes the tension that much thicker.

For a while they focus on getting comfortable with one another in that sense. There’s a lot more times when one of them loses a shirt during a makeout session, more often than not the victim of roaming hands and needy fingers. They map each other out the same way they’ve been doing for months now, until the other doesn’t feel like foreign territory anymore. It helps put them both at ease, but it also makes them both so much needier.

When they finally do end up going all the way, they cling to each other for hours after. Now that they’ve been as close as they can be, it’s difficult to handle being apart. Eddie traces the various moles Steve has, while Steve does the same with Eddie’s tattoos. It’s sappy, and neither of them would give up those details under pain of death, but they tell each other how much it means to be able to be so close to someone else without being afraid. Eddie confides in Steve about how hard it is to be so far ostracized and how sometimes he wishes he were different just so he didn’t have to feel that way. Steve tells Eddie about growing up in a big empty house and how he sometimes feels like he’s just the ghost of an idea his parents had about what he should be.

They agree that so long as the other is breathing, they’ll always have someone who will hold them and remind them that they both have value.  

[grandwretch]

hunter Steve and vampire Eddie who somehow end up in join custody of a werewolf pack bc Hopper got made into a wolf last week when he was trying to help the orphaned witch he found on the side of the road and no one knows how he fell into a pack bond with four shithead kids least of all him

[worstloki]

Thor, known hero: You're on speaker so behave.

Loki, known villain: or what, you'll spank me?

Steve: >.>

Tony: >.>

Natasha: >.>

Bruce: >.>

Clint: >.>

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Reunions and Secrets

Chapter 13/? - - - Read it on AO3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Word Count: 13,809

Summary: Hop is racing back home to see his girl, the rest of the party is simply killing time until some parents show up. But, the three who boarded a plane from California might not be the only ones jumping into things... There just might be a few more faces coming back around...

More ST Fics

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Unfortunately, the walkie Steve handed the Byers boys had a dead battery. So the folks in the car couldn’t call ahead and tell El that her dad was coming back. Which just about made Hopper mad enough to swerve off the road. He felt like every second she didn’t know was a second she was sad or in pain. The boys assured him that, while she obviously missed him and was going to be crazy happy to get him back, she was happily watching a movie. But that didn't ease him. He needed to get back to Hawkins and let her know he was okay. And he needed to do it at that very moment.

At the house, everything was otherwise fine. Everyone was bundled together across the couch or sitting on pillows in front of it, wrapped under various blankets.

After Jonathan had to go, Argyle and Nancy were left sat together on the left, surprisingly getting along pretty well after Nancy resigned herself to the fact that he was pretty good company. His easygoing everything still confounded her, but, somehow, it made Nancy stop in her tracks and think to at least give it a try. Now that she knew he wasn't just stupid and unaware. Instead, he just chose to lean on the happier side of things anyway, and Nancy could use a skill like that. They still weren't super close, but there they were, sitting next to each other while Mr. Banks approached the climax of his character arc.

Next to that pair sat Steve and Robin, with Erica between them on the floor. Obviously, they were together, as best friends like them liked to be. Robin had even gone so far as to have her legs crossed over Steve's while El hugged onto her arm. Robin wasn't entirely sure how she managed to secure a spot in the girl's heart since they barely met before she left for California, but it made her feel pretty good anyway.

Next to El were Mike and Lucas, with Dustin sitting below them on the floor cushions. Their band of boys on the right end of the living room had included Will until he had to leave for the airport. But they still sat close together. Like they had for sleepovers from years past. They were all comfortably awaiting the arrival of some real adults and to start eating the dinner they’d put together.

And the movie itself was beginning to wrap up with that damned ‘Let's Go Fly a Kite’ scene that had Steve doing everything in his power not to sniffle. If nobody looked at him, no one would see that the last few minutes always made him tear up. He just had to keep it together. Just for a minute longer.

And then Robin looked over.

Of course, she did. Because she noticed what this movie did to him when they watched it together last time. But she didn’t draw any attention to him. She just nuzzled in a little closer to his side and rested her head on his shoulder as they watched the credits roll past a kite-filled, cloudy sky. It was nice being known like that, he decided. Nice to have someone know what you needed and how to go about it. Even if she pushed his buttons too.

As the movie was just ending, there was frantic honking coming from the driveway. The kids had just the time to get stood up and look at the front door before it was thrown open by Jonathan and Will.

“El! Come on!” Will yelled, looking like he was bursting with good news.

El was already approaching, planning to see Joyce and welcome her back, when from behind them walked in Jim.

“Hi,” he said like it was the only thing he could think to say after missing his girl for the past eight months.

And while she was slowly stepping forward a moment ago… the second she saw his face and that warm smile he was wearing, she was running right into him. Probably could’ve knocked him over if he hadn’t braced for it. And before wasting another second, she was wrapping her arms around him and noticing how differently they fit together this time. He was so thin, and she was taller, her arms longer.

But it was still him. It was still Hop.

She buried her face into him as the tears dropped from her squeezed-shut eyes. Jim also looked like he was about to cry if it was any consolation. Then, after a moment, there was a barely-said mutter spoken into his shoulder.

“What’s that, kid?” he asked her to repeat.

El pulled her head back just enough to spill out between her cries,“ I’m sorry. My- they never came back- I’m sorry I couldn’t find you-“

“Hey. No.” he pulled her in tighter as he said it,” No sorry’s from you, kid. I don’t even want to hear ‘em. I knew if there was any way you’d known, you woulda got me back, alright? I didn’t doubt that you would have gone beyond hell and back to save me. Okay? It’s not your fault, and I never thought it was. Not for one second, El.”

She tucked herself back into him as if trying to escape the rest of the world to focus entirely on the fact that he was actually back with her,” I was waiting the whole time. I always left the door open three inches. I never stopped believing you’d come back.”

He chuckled, and it shook her in such a familiar way. Filling her with the warmth of his laugh for the first time in too many months,” Oh, I know. I know you did. It’s okay now, I’m here. I’m here. I’m sorry I was gone so long, kid. But I made it back before I missed a birthday.”

She nodded her head against him and huffed her own laugh,“ You did.”

“We’re going to have a big one this year, you hear me? No hiding and no secrets this time. You and me, we're going anywhere you want to go, and anyone you want to bring can come. Okay?”

“Yeah.” she agreed while she wiped at her eyes and finally pulled away enough to really look at him,” You look so…”

“So…? Not fat?” he joked.

She laughed, but she missed the squish. Then she looked back up,“ And your hair…”

“My hair? Look at your hair.” he ran his hand over the short buzz with a sigh,“ Yeah. I kinda stole your look, kid.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what do you think?” he asked, leaning his head down and turning to the left and right to let her make a proper evaluation.

“Bitchin’,” she decided before reaching back around his middle,” Except for this part. Don’t like this at all.”

“You don’t? I tell ya, when I go see my doctor, he’s going to say that being presumed dead was just what I needed. You just wait and see.”

She shook her head, and that was the moment Joyce came in. She and Murray struggled with some of the bags, seeing as her boys and Hopper ran to the front door without helping. But when she made it in the door, she just looked at her girl.

El’s smile brightened a little more, and she said,” Thank you.”

Joyce pretty much just dropped everything at that and surged forward to get El into her arms. There was no denying that, over those eight months they’d been without Hopper, El had become her kid too. El sniffled against her for a minute until they all came down from the emotional high of their return. Past El's greetings from them, there were handshakes and hugs with Hop and more hugs and kisses on cheeks from Joyce as they both made their rounds through the rest of the room.

That is until Hopper put a hand to his stomach and groaned,” This is nice and all, but I was promised a big supper. Can we eat already?”

They all laughed at that and motioned to the open dining room doors for the adults to trickle into. The kids moved all the bags from the doorway into the living room and brought all the food in from the kitchen. Then dinner was finally underway. It was nice. Warm. The only dinner like it the Harrington House has ever seen. It was a good change.

They didn’t talk about what happened - or, more accurately - what was happening. They knew they couldn’t avoid it for very long, and the kids really did want a plan for what they could do to keep pushing forward. But… it was suppertime. They could talk about how awful everything was later. But for that moment, they could eat and laugh at how terribly Hopper stuffed his tortilla as it burst at the seams and spilled out all over his plate.

But once they’d all had their fill, Nancy mentioned Susan. It was time to get back to business. Steve was the one to call her trailer, it was already after 8:30, but she answered quickly and said she’d be there shortly for whatever conversation it was they were going to have.

During this, El noticed that Jim and Joyce were connected by their pinkies. Not outright holding hands at the dinner table. But still, they were just a little bit tied together. Just two pinkies, barely crossed, but they said a lot. She looked at it a beat longer before finding their fond smiles and asking,” So I get to keep staying with Miss Joyce, too?”

“Uh-” Jim startled slightly. Like he’d been caught red-handed. But after a second, he simmered down and answered,” Uh, yeah, kid. You can keep staying with Joyce, too. When we aren’t homeless, that is. We both can if that’s fine by all of you,” he said around the whole table, pointedly including Jonathan and Will in the question.

“Yeah.” they all seemed to answer. Happy that their household wouldn’t be splitting apart with the good news, and in agreement that it was about time for Jim and Joyce to get to be happy together. They've been heading in that direction for a while anyway, right? Then everyone moved to the living room, so they could try and figure out more of exactly what’s been going on everywhere.

“Alright, we need favorite songs.” Nancy started as she sat down and pulled back out her notebook and pen.

“What?” Jim asked, clearly that question was just about the last one he’d have expected upon his grand return. He was in Russia for eight months, after all. Surely that sort of thing should’ve come up first.

“You’re favorite song.” Robin repeated for Nancy,” We need to write it down and everyone’s getting their own on a cassette with a Walkman before much longer.”

“Okay?” he agreed, still confused,” it’s-”

“It's 'You Don’t Mess Around With Jim',” El answered for him, a proud smile tugging at her cheeks. God, they had to hurt by then. If she smiled any harder they'd bruise. Her grin just hasn’t faltered since her dad walked through that door. Not for one moment.

“Yeah. She’s right. Obviously.” Jim agreed. It wasn’t a difficult guess. It was the song he played when they moved into his cabin together. The same one he blasted in the car when he had a good day. It seemed like it was more his song than Jim Croce’s sometimes.

They looked expectantly to Joyce next, who just sort of furrowed her brows and asked herself,” What is my favorite song?”

“What about ’Uptown Girl’?” El considered.

Joyce scrunched her nose and shook her head.

Jonathan tried to come up with something next,“ Well, it has to be something Fleetwood Mac, right?”

“I mean, probably. They are my favorite, but I’m not good at remembering the names.”

“What about ’Dreams’?” he offered.

To that, she shrugged and gave a thoughtful,“ …Yeah. Yeah, I like that one.”

“Okay, but do you just like it, or do you love it? ‘Cause, it kinda needs to be one that you really love, like a lot.” Robin emphasized.

“Um… okay, what’s that one that’s all…” Joyce asked her kids and started humming a chorus line.

“Oh! Oh! I know it… It’s- it’s-” Will racked his brain for it. The title was on the tip of his tongue,” It’s- Oh! It’s ’The Chain’! Right?”

“Okay, then that’s it.” Joyce decided,” That’ll be my favorite.”

“And Murray?”

“What is this for?” He questioned Nancy back, like something as simple as his favorite song was a sort of sensitive information that she’d abuse.

“Saving your life?” she answered.

“And if I don’t buy that so easily?”

“Alright, you paranoid bastard,” Erica cut in, having no patience for him,” Newsflash: there’s an evil mind wizard who might try to possess the box of nuts and bolts on the end of your neck. And if he does, the only hope you’ll have is that somebody in this room will have the good sense to put some music over your ears that'll snap you out of his spell. So, unless you really want to die over a song title, I suggest you cough it up.”

“I see you’re still a pleasure, Miss Erica Sinclair…” he held a snide smile for her before answering,” It’s ‘No More’ by Billie Holiday. Duh.”

“The ‘duh’ was petty and uncalled for.” she checked him.

“About as uncalled for as a five-year-old on the doomsday team?” he threw back,” What’re you going to do, color the wizard to death with crayons?”

“This eleven-year-old,” she corrected,” has already stabbed a tire on a police car and swung on a psycho with a blunt object for the cause, and she’s prepared to do a whole lot more. What’ve you done for it? Besides lying about a vacation to Alaska?”

He held up a finger at her,“ For the record, we did go to Alaska. We just also took a little trip over to-”

And then there was a knock on the front door. Susan Mayfield must have arrived. And they didn’t even get through where Jim has been, what Henry/Vecna/One was, or what they were going to tell her about any of it. At any rate, it was happening right now. Nothing they could do about it. They’d just have to follow Jim and Joyce’s lead.

Steve stood up from the living room and went to answer the door. He was the one who invited Susan over, after all. But then, he was left only to find it wasn’t Susan Mayfield standing on his front porch, but Karen Wheeler instead.

“Hi, Steve!” She smiled at him, holding a glass container with what looked like lasagna in it,” Thought we’d take the first shift to drop off some food to keep you kids fed-”

That was when her eyes slipped from his frozen expression and over his shoulder to see Ms. Byers in the living room,” Joyce? When did you get into to-”, and then her gaze fell just to the left,” Hopper?! Okay- Okay, what is going on here? He’s supposed to be… ”

“Sorry, sorry! Hard getting these all in one trip.” Claudia called up as she joined Karen in the doorway with at least three different containers of food herself.

When neither Steve nor Karen responded, Claudia turned to the other mom to ask,” What’s going on?”

And when she looked back inside and saw the same guests that had Karen stunned, she reacted in just about the same way,” Joyce? Ho-Hopper? What’re you…?”

“Um... Surprise?” was all the boy could come up with.

“Surprise?” Karen questioned back at him.

Joyce came forward to meet her at the door,“ Hi, Karen. Claudia.”

“Joyce, what the hell is going on here? He- He died. There was a service, and there were articles, and the news- And- And you mourned, Joyce. And his kid-” Karen had to close her eyes to stop her sputtering questions - her mind was clearly running faster than she could manage- to focus on what she really needed to ask,” What is going on, and why do my children and a bunch of their friends know about it?”

“Why is my Dusty-bun…?”

“Um- It’s-” Joyce tried to figure herself out, until…

“Claudia? Karen?”

Ah, there’s Susan.

“Do they know?” Susan asked Steve.

“Do we know what?” Karen echoed the question.

Jim stood up from the couch and came to the front,“ Okay, so this is happening.”

“Chief Hopper?” Susan now questioned.

“Now that we’re all up to speed on how clueless the moms out here are, can someone please explain what the hell is going on?” Karen requested.

“Seems to me,” Jim decided,” the only option here is to go over everything. From the beginning, for everyone here, until we get to where we stand now. Sound good to everyone?”

“The NDAs?” Nancy inquired from the living room.

“I’m gonna say, executive decision, fuck the NDAs. I’m legally dead, and if the suits didn’t nab me off the plane…" he shrugged," Well, way I see it, everything I do before they realize I’m back is kinda their fault for being so bad at their jobs in the first place.”

“NDAs? Suits?” Karen asked.

“Oh, don't worry, Mrs. Wheeler. We’ll cover that,” Jim acknowledged.

“Holy shit- this is really happening,” Mike said to Nancy, trying to wrap his head around his mother, Karen Wheeler, knowing about all the stuff they’ve been up to over the last two and a half years.

“Language, Mike,” she called over.

“Okay, Mom, it’s kind of crazy to think that we’re going to be inviting you into hell, but-”

“Language, Nancy!”

Steve pulled the door open further and motioned for the moms to join the rest of them in the living room,“ Why doesn’t everybody just come on in?”

“Yeah, bring ‘em all in, Steve. Let’s just tell everyone’s mothers about the goddamn Upside Down.”

“Language, Dustin!” Claudia had to say to her own. To Karen, she huffed,” Geez, you’d think we raised our kids in a barn…”

“And what was that? The ‘Upside Down’ that you’re going to be telling us about?” Karen pointed out as they all got seated in Steve's living room.

Joyce thought,“ Well… um, where do we start?”

“With me?” El raised her hand.

“Yeah, we’ll start there.” Jim agreed.

The next hour or so was filled with the coverage of everything. Everything that started way back in November ‘83, and they moved forward as chronologically as they could. The kids told their sides, adults answered most of the questions, had to excuse how they couldn't stop the kids from being involved, explained away every coverup story, filled in context for every mystery scar… It was a wild ride. There were a lot of interruptions and even more disbelief. El had to change the tv channel five times and lift it off the entertainment center before any of them started to believe they were telling truth. But when they did… oh, when they did.

“And that’s about everything that happened up until two weeks ago.” Joyce concluded,” Clearly, more has just gone on, but we haven’t even had time to discuss that amongst ourselves yet, so I guess you’ll be here while we try to figure that out, well, now.”

“You’re trying to tell me that my children could’ve died countless times over the last three years, just because… why?” Karen was at a loss for words.

Joyce swore to her,“ We always tried to keep the kids out of it. We told them over and over again to stay home, or at the middle school, and, just, not put themselves on the front line while we tried to deal with it. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but our kids don’t listen very well.”

“You’re telling me…” Karen muttered, shooting a glance at her own.

“And they saved my Will. Back when he went missing, so many people didn’t believe that something was going on. And El, she never chose to be a part of this. She got stuck with it. And this town is stuck with it. The Lab... the problem is here, it started here. And, at the end of the day, this is the crew trying to solve that problem.”

"We're the doomsday team," Erica added, using Murray's name for their group.

“And Max? She just… happened to have made friends with the kids involved and wanted to know everything herself? The reason she’s in a hospital bed right now is because last year we happened to move to the town with monsters, and she happened to find the only boys who knew about it?”

They were all struck a little silent by the question. It was Lucas who eventually answered her,“ Yeah. That's pretty much how it...”

Susan’s hand pressed into her chest, and it didn’t seem like she even saw anyone else in the room,“ If I hadn’t said that we needed a change of pace… to get away from California and the fighting… She’d be fine?”

“It’s not your fault, Susan.” Claudia put a hand on her shoulder to try and comfort her.

She stood up out of the other mother's reach,“ I was the one that said taking Billy to the Midwest might temper him. I thought a small town without so much to do might bring down his aggression and help us manage his behavior… If I had just let Neil take us to Vermont instead, we wouldn’t be…”

“Susan. You didn’t know. If you did, you would’ve never made that choice.” Karen assured her,” If I knew my kids were doing this, I would’ve packed them up the second...” Karen looked at Joyce when she realized what she was getting at. She would've made her kids leave after Will went missing. Leaving him behind for their family's good.

“I would’ve moved Dustin and me to my brother’s ages ago,” Claudia added.

“But I brought them here! If I hadn’t, they never would’ve-”

“Maybe they wouldn’t have.” Nancy gave her,” And maybe things would be a little bit better for a few of us if everyone had pulled us away from Hawkins when Will went missing…”

She shook her head and continued,“ But if you had, he would’ve never been found, and he would’ve died, scared and alone. And Joyce and Jonathan would’ve never known what happened to him. And El would’ve never stayed free of that lab. And maybe Barb wouldn’t have been at the wrong place at the wrong time because of me, and maybe she’d be fine. But someone else would’ve been in her place. And maybe all the people who were still here wouldn’t have stood a chance if we weren't here. But we were. And we noticed, and we fought back against an invading dimension of monsters with three successes and one pending results. There were losses. We know that. But we are what Hawkins has to fight for it. And I don’t regret being on the team.”

“You don’t?” her mother asked.

“No. I really don’t. I wish I’d done a better job in places. I wish I didn’t… make so many mistakes. But I don’t regret being on the team. We’re the team. And we have each other’s backs.” Nancy looked over and took Robin’s hand in hers before she realized she was even going to do it, simply remembering the vines and the fear,” We don’t leave each other behind. Even if we have to face down terrifying creatures or carry someone bleeding out of hell, we have each other. And now that you know what’s going on, you’re all on the team, too.”

Susan seemed a little far off in her head, but she sat back down while Claudia asked,“ And what does that mean? Being on the team?”

“It means, well, you help us not let the world end. Whatever skills you’ve got to bring to the table, we’ll use ‘em and find a way out of this mess. Because we don’t have any other choice.” Jonathan answered.

Karen continued,“ And what’s happening now? What’s all this… spring break business that happened?”

And thus, they went into another long hour of explaining. Now having to string together Henry Creel and Russia, which was a much more convoluted mess to sort out. It took a while, but they explained everything until everyone - all seventeen of them, as crazy as it was - knew where they stood currently on the apocalypse radar.

They also ended up eating a lot of the brownies Claudia had shown up with.

Comfort food to combat the reality of their horror stories. Or something like that.

By the end of the night, everyone was way more involved, and Lucas and Erica were left begging Karen not to tell Sue and Charles about everything. They were less keen on joining the club of kids whose parents were on the in. But she wasn’t having any of it. She wished she had known what was going on, and Erica is still only eleven, for goodness sake. They deserve to know when it concerns their eleven-year-old. The Sinclairs would be brought into the fold. And that was final.

But she wouldn’t be reaching out to the Buckleys and the Harringtons. She didn’t know them like she knew her neighbors, and both Steve and Robin were very insistent that their parents would only cause issues. Which is the same reason that Karen decided she would not be telling Ted what was going on.

She knew her husband. Knew how he saw giving to anyone else as tantamount to accepting theft. He audibly complains about feeding Mike’s friends when they were over. If he was aware of the situation… he would just up and move them. No discussion. He would just list the house and have them moved to another state without a second thought or consideration. And, as much as Karen would love to remove her kids from the risk entirely, she can’t not help. Not when other mothers’ children would still be in harm's way and they’d be leaving them worse off without the support.

So Ted wasn’t to know. Neither was Holly, obviously. Those Wheelers wouldn’t be a part of this.

The other three would handle it themselves.

And with that thought, Karen suddenly knew a little bit about how her daughter felt these last few years. Keeping such a big secret to spare her family pain and allow her to be there for her friends. She had a good eldest daughter. She’s always known so. But it was new to see it from this light. To know what was actually going on and how strong she's been this whole time.

She’s just been ‘trying to manage it all’.

Like she’d told her the other morning in the hospital hallway. Nancy’s been very alone in managing everything. But she’s had the other members of this team. And now she had her mother. So Karen was going to fight tooth and nail to take some of that burden off her shoulders. And keep her husband off her back. She'd be making sure he dropped his whole 'no keys until you can prove you'll be responsible' thing.

“And those other two should be joining up soon,” Jim remembered.

“Two more?” Steve asked, eyebrows climbing on his face to imagine their group growing even further.

“Yeah, we brought them over but couldn’t really seat them on a commercial flight, for obvious reasons. Dmitri and his son Mikhail.” Joyce explained.

“Mikhail? You don’t think that’ll be confusing?” Mike wondered.

“Would you prefer we left them to the Soviets where Dmitri would’ve been hunted down and executed for defecting because you and his son sort of have similar names, Michael?” Murray questioned.

Joyce dismissed,“ He doesn’t even go by Mike. So, as long as you didn’t decide to give 'Mikhail' a try, we should be fine.”

“So we actually have Russian friends now?” Robin asked.

“Just the two. Yuri was a bastard, so we didn’t invite him along. But Dmitri and his son were good. He was the only reason we knew Hop was alive and in Russia, and he’s sticking the thing out with us now that he’s fought the same monster and wants to retire to small-town America. And his kid was a little quiet, but we did snatch him up in a sudden helicopter ride, so I think he was just shy. Anyway, we got them to America, and I handed off my car to them in California with directions on a map on how to get here so we could help them get set up.”

“How were you planning to pass off heavily-accented, eastern Europeans as just simply 'the new guys in town'?” Erica pressed.

“You don’t know how strong their accents are.” Murray pointed out.

“You telling me no one’s gonna notice the voices of Mother Russia?” she asked back.

“Okay, they have pretty unmistakable accents, but whatever. We can make up some shit about them being double agents in witness protection or something.” Jim grumbled.

“Riiiiiiight, because people in Hawkins are so understanding and respectful of each other’s privacy.”

“Okay, from what I’ve heard, the town is clearing out anyhow. Whoever’s still kicking around can just deal with it.”

There was a little bit more chatter as they finished catching everyone up. Eventually, the moms decided it was time to return home, but they ended up agreeing to a real sleepover at Steve’s, now that they knew what their kids went through. It seemed like letting them spend time together, where they got to keep an eye on each other and know that no one was in danger, was something they just couldn’t say no to. So the three of them headed off into the night with the understanding that they’d be coming back to Steve’s with Erica and Lucas’s parents in the morning to explain it all to them too. And once everyone was together, they'd figure out a strategy for taking out Vecna. Once and for all.

They couldn't do it that night though. So everyone got ready to wind down.

The California crew changed into their newly delivered pajamas, and Claudia made the rounds to everyone's house before dropping off things for the locals. Meanwhile, Steve was getting room assignments figured out. The kids, again, banded together to camp out in the living room with plans to doze off to The Sound of Music. Steve was walking Hopper, Joyce, and Murray up the stairs to show them around the house. Seeing as Joyce’s house was in California, Hopper’s cabin was in shambles, and Murray’s place was in Illinois, they’d all be joining them in the now slightly packed Harrington house. He was in the process of offering the master to Joyce and Hopper since they were an item now and bringing up showers.

“Joyce mentioned you guys didn’t have time to stop and clean up, so I can grab you all some towels and leave you to the bathrooms.”

Jim looked over the moon to think about it,“ Oh, kid, you don’t even know how long I’ve been looking forward to a real, hot shower-” Then he suddenly stopped and grabbed Steve’s shoulders with wide eyes,” Wait- Steve.”

“Yes?” he asked.

“You’re rich people,” he said, asserting the fact without any further context.

Steve’s expression turned more confused,“ Yes?”

“Do your parents have- have one of those- those tubs with the- with the-”

“The jets?” Steve figured,” Yeah, they have a jacuzzi tub in the master bathroom.”

“Oh my god-” Hopper pulled Steve into a just short of crushing hug and smacked a surprising kiss to his forehead before nearly running down the hall, calling back," Joyce! We’re taking the dibs on the master! I LOVE RICH PEOPLE!”

Which was… Okay, was there something in the water? Because everyone kept hugging Steve, and he wasn't entirely opposed to it, but geez, it’s not the level of daily physical contact he’s used to.

Besides that display, Joyce followed in with their bags, and Steve showed Murray to one of the guest bedrooms to make himself at home. Steve went back downstairs to see the kids throwing around even more pillows and blankets and just about beating them into submission to get themselves settled and comfortable for the movie.

Steve took a vote for popcorn and ended up juggling four big plastic bowls of the stuff back into the living room. He passed them out and noticed Robin and Nancy looking over something together while Jonathan and Argyle whispered and glanced over at Argyle's bag. He thought nothing of it until, as he was trying to retake his seat by Robin for the movie, she and Nancy stood up. Said they were going to “be right back” before they broke for the dining room. Then the other two split off right after, presumably to get stoned.

All of this left Steve, once again, so very outnumbered by a bunch of children.

“Always the babysitter…” he groaned as he tugged on the blanket Erica was hogging.

“Then be a good babysitter and sit quietly. It’s starting,” she shot back, like the little spitfire she was, but she let them share the blanket anyway as the opening credits rolled over landscape shots of the Swiss Alps and the orchestra faded in.

The two California boys ended up sitting in the grass against the side of Steve’s house, just out of the view of the street or any neighbors. Argyle was sparking up a joint for them to pass, no longer worried about running out since his Mamá Isadora was nice enough to throw in his stash with his clothes. He thanked his lucky stars all the time that she was so into the flower power, peace and love stuff of the 70’s when he was younger. It was nice that she just understood that kind of stuff with him.

But right now, Jon was the one he needed to reach an understanding with. Because he’s been biting his cuticles down to the quick ever since they crossed the Indiana state line. So, once he got the joint started and took his own drag, he handed it over to his best friend and looked up at the stars. Letting a comfortable silence fall around them just long enough for Jonathan to take a deep inhale and get resolved to reach a blissful marijuana haze. Once he committed himself to getting it, he'd be cornered until they got there.

A winning strategy to make sure he couldn't escape.

“Alright, brochacho, what’re you doing right now?” Argyle asked, looking over at Jonathan as he let out a puff of smoke.

Jonathan looked back, confused, and handed over the joint,“ What do you mean?”

Argyle let him stew in the question for a second as he took his turn before giving it back and reiterating,“ With Nancy. What’re you doing with Nancy?”

“I-” he hesitated to take the blunt being handed back as he tried to deny it,” I’m not doing anything.”

“And that’s the problem,” Argyle proclaimed.

And he looked serious about what he was saying, which Argyle didn’t do often. So Jonathan tried to avoid his eyes. Rolled his own and looked away to ask,“ How could that be the problem?”

“We’ve been in your hometown for over 24 hours now. Right?”

“And?”

“And you haven’t talked to her. Not once, one-on-one.” he pointed out,” Which you kinda have to do to tell her you’re going to Lenora Community.”

Jonathan waved around his hand as he searched for a usable excuse,“ We’ve all been busy with the group, and always with the whole group, and there just hasn't been time to-”

Argyle cut through his fumbling with ease,“ You’re avoiding her, man.”

Jonathan took another draw and locked his eyes on the blade of grass tickling his ankle,“ That such a bad thing to do?”

“It’s only gonna get worse the longer it takes to talk to her. You need to tell her you didn’t apply to Emerson.”

He tried to explain,“ I- I was already floundering with how I was supposed to say it before. And that would’ve just been over the phone-”

“Over the phone wouldn'ta been right anyway,” Argyle threw in, not that Jonathan was really listening.

“-But how am I supposed to just spring this on her now? Right to her face, in the middle of this bullshit Upside Down stuff? And then - after it all blows up and I’ve hurt her - then we’re all just going to go back to California, and it’ll look like I’m running away from the train wreck I caused. Just leaving her behind because I’m not man enough to deal with the fact that…”

That he didn't feel like he was worth Nancy’s time to keep trying. Jonathan was all messed up right now, and he couldn’t seem to pull himself together, and he just couldn’t saddle Nancy with that job. He wouldn't. It wasn't fair to her. He cared about Nancy. Still loved her, in some way. But it wasn't… wasn't how it should be. And he was making it worse every day.

He took another hit, beating himself up in his head and seeming to forget his manners when it came to their puff, puff, pass now that Argyle was making him stop and think too much.

“Yeah, it’s gonna suck. But you can’t pretend like it’s not happening.” Argyle told him firmly,” She deserves to know that she’s headed to Boston alone, and you deserve to not look like you’re gonna blow chunks every time you’re in the same room because you're so guilty over it.”

Jonathan finally looked back over at him, lifting up his hand to admire the joint and ask,“ Can’t we just keep smoking Purple Palm Tree Delight? Eventually, make the problems actually blow away like the seed pods of a dandelion?”

Argyle took it from his fingers and assured him,“ It’s pretty incredible, dude, but not that powerful. It’ll make it feel like they have for a few hours, but you’re always gonna sober up, and the problem’s still gonna be there. Pushing it off will only make it suck even more.”

“I know you’re right. But-” Jonathan tried to argue.

But Argyle kept going,“ I already told you, back in Lenora, that you can’t keep lying about it. And now I know your crew of little dudes has a catchphrase about how ‘friends don’t lie’. Seems like you know what you gotta do. Even if you and Nance are hitting the rocks, you should be a good friend and be honest with her about it. Before she’s in the car driving up north thinking you’ve abandoned her outta nowhere.”

Jonathan rubbed his hands down his face and nodded into them,“ I know. I know, you’re right…”

“That it? Or you gonna try and squeeze another ‘but’ in there?” Argyle got the sentence out without breaking the moment by laughing, but just barely. He definitely smiled to himself at the phrase “squeeze another ‘butt’ in there”.

“That’s it,” he admitted,” You’re right. I need to break up with her. Sooner rather than later.”

Argyle clapped him on the shoulder and held back out the joint as his reward,“ Good boy, Jonny.”

“Can’t do it tonight though.”

He shrugged against him,“ Tonight’s practically over anyway. And you did good making the decision and saying it out loud. We can lose ourselves to the Purple Palm Tree Delight for now, but don’t let yourself get all swept up in things that you keep pushing it off again.”

“Yeah. I’ll do it.” Jonathan smiled a second before adding,” I know you’ll keep hounding me if I don’t anyway.”

“You know I will.” Argyle agreed with a self-satisfied smile and a ruffle to Jonathan’s hair.

They ended up staying outside together for a while. Enjoying the easy bliss that the bud draped over them. They were probably out there close to an hour before they decided it was too chilly and went back inside to watch the movie. The girls, however, were not doing something as simple as they were. Instead, Nancy and Robin collected themselves back in the dining room where Nancy unpacked her purse of the notebook, loose papers, and sticky notes into the table.

“So you said you were working on an article?” Robin asked.

Nancy nodded as she sorted through all the bits of her work so far,“ Yeah, the one I was starting before all of this happened. I figured, even if it’s not the same one I was planning to write, I could still put something together. Just, less about the murders as a mystery, and more about Eddie’s innocence of them. You know?”

Robin was following the idea well enough, but Nancy just poured a ton of disorganized chaos in front of her, so she wasn’t really sure where to look,“ Annnnd, this is what you have to work off of?”

“Well, it’s a rough idea right now.” she excused,” Over here, I have my interview notes from Wayne before we knew what was going on, and these pages have a couple of ideas on how to organize and frame the story, and - well, obviously we can’t talk about Upside Down stuff - so I’m still trying to decide how much of our story with the police I can use. Without making the whole thing just look like a story drummed up by a group of teenagers. Which is what it is, at the end of the day, so I keep trying to find a way to distinguish it. Other sources, or just something to make it seem more solid. More reliable.”

“And you want my help on it?” Robin clarified.

Suddenly it struck Nancy that maybe they weren’t friends enough for her to have asked Robin to do this for her,“ Is that weird? I’m sorry-”

“No, no. Not weird.” Robin assured her,” I just- I’m not on the school paper, so I don’t- I don’t know how helpful I’ll be with the whole journalism thing.”

Nancy went just a little rigid at the question. She didn’t meet Robin’s eyes for a bit. Instead, she fiddled with the papers in front of her as she explained,“ Freddie’s already gone. I saw Tonya on the missing person’s board at the high school. And Mary Pat was getting into her parent's car with half a dozen suitcases when I was leaving the hospital. I could try to track down Markus, Amelia, Lucy, Elijah, or Christina, I guess… But they don’t know the truth, so I’d be spending half the time brainstorming just trying to keep my mouth shut, all while having to convince them Eddie’s even a good guy in the first place-”

Then Nancy took a breath and looked at Robin again,“ But you already know those things. And I know you’re smart, so I’m sure you’d be a lot of help while we work on this and… I don’t know. I thought, if we put together something good enough and published it, we might be able to help Eddie get out from under everything. At least in the eyes of the people of Hawkins.”

And Nancy still looked like she was asking. Still unsure that Robin would be willing to help her out on this even though they’ve teamed up on both Dr. Hatch and putting together the original cover story. So Robin smiled and gave a joking,“ And we’re friends, so I’m obviously going to help you.”

Which pulled a grin onto Nancy’s face as she quipped right back,“ Yeah, I was kinda banking on that part too.”

“Alright,” Robin clapped her hands together and surveyed the papers before them,” So besides Wayne pointing the finger at the Creels, he’s also a character witness, like the boys are.”

“Yes, and I can use that, but I need more than just super biased quotes to pull from.”

“Well, the people who are most convinced that Eddie’s the devil are the ones fleeing the county. So we only need to put together enough of a story to assure the people who are still here and on the fence.” Robin hummed to herself,“ Um… what about teachers? Do we know any teachers that particularly liked Eddie? That’d be a little less personal and credible.”

“He was in band and drama. We can reach out to both directors and see if they’d be willing to say something good about him.”

“And what about Steve?” Robin suggested.

“Steve?” Nancy had no clue what Robin was doing bringing him into it.

“Well, the guy’s pretty famously not the kind of person who’d be tight in Eddie’s social circle, right?” she began to explain,” So a statement from him about what happened while we were all out there, it’d look better than one from the kids. Or from you being a Hellfire kid’s sister. Mr. Well-Known and Popular taking center stage to say even he’s sure Eddie didn’t do anything.”

“Yeah, something from Steve could help.” Nancy agreed.

“Is there anything else you might’ve not thought of yet?”

“Well,” Nancy considered,” Something that we didn’t have before, but have now… is Jim Hopper. If we re-introduce Hop back into the town soon and get a quote that he looked at the case and his gut says it’s not the Munson kid, he’d be a pretty official source.”

Robin seemed to brighten up seeing Nancy come up with something even though she seemed stuck a moment ago,“ See. Pretty damn well. Despite a few I-don’t-know’s.”

“We still don’t know if it’ll work.” Nancy tried to remind her.

But Robin’s belief in Nancy was pretty unshakeable,“ Well, by my count, that’s a few character statements, an inside peak from semi-heroic Steve Harrington, long lost chief Hopper’s opinion on the official report, and once the police department drops the charges… If I was reading something with all of that, I’d be pretty convinced. You’re a genius, Nancy, bask in it.”

“It happens to be a lot easier when I have you tackling the problem with me.” Nancy tried to share the praise.

“Oh, please,” Robin waved her off,” I’m just stoked I get to help Nancy Wheeler write the most important newspaper article to come out of this town.”

“Okay, a triple murder that preceded a natural disaster is probably the biggest thing to officially happen in Hawkins,” she had to admit,” But it’s still just the school paper. It’s not like I’m the editor at the Hawkins Post or anything.”

“Doesn’t matter. When Emerson sees you, Nancy Wheeler, reporting live with the first inside scoop, they are going to beg you to run your own class up there.”

She rolled her eyes at the other girl and teased,“ Oh really?”

“Absolutely. They’ll be almost as amazed as I am and throw a degree at you as soon as you step on campus.” Robin sat back while Nancy shook her head at her,“ What? You think I’m expecting too much of them?”

And Nancy couldn't stop the giggle rising in her chest, nor the automatic “You’re an idiot, Robin Buckley” that slipped out of her.

“You just said I was smart!” Robin tried to dispute.

“Maybe, but you can still be an idiot too.” Nancy continued to huff until her cheeks her red. She fanned them off when they’d settled down a bit and reached over,“ Here, take a pen and help me start drafting this thing. And if you can come up with a snappy, eye-catching title, that’d be helpful.”

Robin pulled out her extra gravely, spooky narrator voice and offered,“ Eddie Munson: More Man Than Monster!”

“Alliteration is not the only requirement.”

Next, she buzzed through,“ We Know You Think He’s A Serial Killer With Demon Powers, But He’s Just A Dorky Guy, And Jason’s The Crazy One!”

“I said snappy, Buckley! That's way too long! Come on, gimme something I can work with!”

“I’ll come up with something! Let me think on it a minute.”

They sat at the table working on it together all the way until Maria ran away from the von Trapps and the intermission started. At that point, all the kids ran off for bathroom breaks, and the girls took the hint it was about time to join them and wind down for the night. By then, Jonathan and Argyle had already returned, and Hopper had made himself comfy, looking like he was ready to doze off right there.

Steve stood up and took all the bowls of popcorn, empty except for the remaining un-popped kernels, into the kitchen to dump out and clean up. When he was focused on this task, Joyce must’ve wrapped up her shower and snuck up behind him. Somehow just suddenly coming up behind him with a kind of serious and gentle energy that said she had something to talk to him about.

“Hi, honey…” she already sounded like she had a specific thought on her mind she was getting to.

“Hi, are you both getting settled in fine?” he thought to ask while he scrubbed away popcorn butter with a soapy sponge.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be surprised if Hop just conks out on that couch, so yeah, I’d say so.” she gave a small laugh at the thought.

“That’s good.” was all he could come up with when he realized he didn’t have anything else to stall with until he finished the dishes.

“Um, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

She took a step closer to him,“ Is there any reason I had to wipe some dust off the bedside table?”

Shit.

He tried to excuse it,“ I should’ve cleaned that up before you guys got here-“

“Honey,” she interrupted him with a soft voice,” How long has it been since your parents have been home?”

Right. That… that makes sense to ask, given the evidence she found. Great. Great, great, great. How does he get out of this without just spewing a few obvious lies?

“It hasn’t been that long.” he tried anyway.

Joyce made a face like she wanted to wince,“ It’s dust… It takes a while to collect like that.”

It does, doesn’t it? Yeah. Of course, it does.

Steve tried to sound casual, like it wasn’t a big deal, and he was just tossing the numbers around to remember how long it’s been exactly,“ I guess… it’s been about three months.”

“Wait- you’ve been…” Joyce looked heartbroken for him,” Were they even home for Christmas?”

He shrugged and moved on to the last bowl, hoping he could finish it up quickly,“ It’s fine. You know, Robin came over every day that week, and we watched all of our favorites. We had a good time. Even ended Christmas Eve with It’s A Wonderful Life before I drove her home so-“

“Steve. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I wish I’d known.” she insisted.

“Why?” he couldn’t help but ask. Because, really, why should she have? Joyce didn’t owe him a proper Christmas. He wasn’t her kid to take care of. And it wouldn't have done anyone any good anyway,” What would've been the point in making you sad in Lenora?”

She didn’t have an answer for him. At least not immediately. But after he put down the bowl on the drying rack and looked at her to try and pass back into the living room, then she spoke up,

“You know, we haven’t really talked it through as a family yet - the family’s changing, and there hasn't been a second to consider it - but I think we’re going to decide to move back over here. To Hawkins. Once everything resolves.”

“That’ll be nice. For all the kids to get to go to school together again, I mean-”

But Joyce continued,“ I bring it up because - I know it’s quite a ways away still - but I’d like to invite you to our house for Christmas this year. If your folks are gone again, and you don’t have family to spend it with.”

Oh.

She didn’t want to pressure him, so she added,“ You don’t have to if you’d be uncomfortable or anything. I just wanted you to know you’d be welcome at our dinner table and around our tree, even if it’s smaller than what you might be used to-”

“No. No, that sounds…” he struggled with how to describe exactly how warm and fuzzy the invitation made his chest feel, but he settled on,” That sounds really nice. I, uh, really appreciate the thought, Joyce. I don’t know what’ll happen in nine more months, but-”

“No, of course, it’s still really far away-”

“But I’d like to. Join your household for Christmas.” he decided anyway.

A soft smile came to her face,“ Then, I hope I’ll get to see you if your parents aren’t able to-”

“Would it be okay if I showed up anyway… even if they were in town?” he was a little shy to ask, but honestly, even if his mom and dad were there, he’d rather go somewhere where it'd actually feel like Christmas.

“Of course, sweetheart.” she assured him, reaching up to set a comforting hand on his shoulder,” Any reason at all, you’re always more than welcome to come by. When we aren’t already borrowing your home, that is.”

“Okay.” he nodded,” Thank you, Joyce. I-”

“Steve!” Dustin yelled from the living room,” Are you trying to miss the Baroness’s horrible attempt at parenting or something?!”

Joyce smiled wider, in that warm way that moms always seemed to in movies, and told him,“ We should probably head in to join them.”

“Yeah. Probably.” he agreed.

They ended up all together in the living room as the last hour and a half of the movie played through. By the end of it, the kids had fallen asleep, including El, who was cuddled up on top of her snoring dad. Joyce went back up to the master bedroom, and Murray went for the guest room he was set up in. Nancy headed for the other while Robin welcomed herself to Steve’s room since he was passed out in the pile.

Maybe an hour or so after the movie finished though, he blinked his eyes back open to realize he’d fallen asleep in the first place. Erica ended up using his lap as a pillow, so it took him a few minutes of very slow and careful movements to get out from under her head before he was able to break for the stairs and try to get some sleep in an actual bed. Instead of a car seat and sofa cushion, of course.

Lo and behold, he opens his door to see Robin all spread out like a starfish under his covers. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he crossed the room and had to shove over her limbs to try and squish himself into bed.

“Hey. Doofus. It’s rude to wake a sleeping lady,” she mumbled half-asleep to him, most of it went right into the pillow.

“It’s rude to steal a guy’s bed and spill all his secrets.” he fired back.

“You fell asleep on the couch, I didn’t want a sore back,” she rolled over a bit so she was speaking more clearly.

“I had a crazy morning…” he groaned.

With that, Robin seemed to wake up just a bit,” What do you mean 'crazy morning'? Explain.”

Steve felt the familiar urge to clam up, the warning to not be vulnerable, but he always knew he could ignore it when it was Robin he was with,“ My dad called. Got an earful. Kinda went off on some junk cars and shit after.”

She turned over enough to look at him,“ You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You want to-?”

“Nah. I’m tired, Rob. Just wanna go to sleep.” he looked back at his ceiling and mumbled,” But we’ll find some time to run off and talk about it later. That and what we're doing about Vickie.”

"Dingus," she shoved him before snuggling herself in a little closer,“ Sorry I told so many of your secrets today.”

“It’s fine.” he sighed and looked back at her,” You spilled a few of your own too, so I guess it’s sorta even.”

She grinned at him,“ A few.”

“But not all of them.”

She closed her eyes and hummed for a moment before nodding along,“ Nope. Not all of them. I’m a girl who likes to keep an air of mystery about her, you know.”

“That why didn’t even bring up the other reason why you like ‘Dancing Queen’ so much?” he asked.

There was a pause after the question before Robin spoke in a voice rich with the sound of her smile,“ I haven't the faintest clue as to what you're referring to.”

“You’re telling me it’s not even a little bit because we spent your seventeenth birthday together?” he dared her to deny it.

Her voice hiked a pitch higher as she feigned confusion,“ We did?”

“Oh, yeah,” he squished in closer behind her and reminisced,” Little over two weeks after Starcourt burned down when you were still so freaked out about joining the end of the world club that you didn’t even want to celebrate? You were all ‘what’s the point of anything- nothing is safe- how do I live life as a normal person anymore- I can’t handle this-’ all the time. So I convinced you to come with me, and I snuck you into a club over an hour away the night before. You were stammering the whole ride over that you weren’t even eighteen yet - not even seventeen yet, technically - so there was no way they’d let you in. But I managed it anyway. And I even got the DJ to play your favorite song for you, right at midnight. So you got to be the Dancing Queen the second you became seventeen. What? That didn’t have anything to do with that at all?”

“That happened?” she tried again.

“You’re so stupid.” he playfully shoved her messy head of hair on his pillow,” You didn’t even let me sneak you a drink, so I know you remember it.”

“Maybe I do. Sue me for trying to keep a few of our secrets just our own.”

“Never.” he hummed as he shimmied to try and get comfortable. Ended up laying his arm over Robin’s waist when a thought occurred to him,“ You know this is gonna cause so many rumors, right?”

She gave a melodramatic gasp and cried,” Steve and Robin! Sharing a bed! What ever might they do?!”

He played along with her theatrics,“ It couldn’t be… they’ll… fall asleep!” and then he squeezed his arm around her tighter for effect.

“You’re such a dork,” she told him.

“No, I’m not. You’re all the dorks. Lucas, Max, and I are the cool ones.”

“Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that.” she reached over her shoulder to pat his head.

“It’s the truth-”

Then she smeared her hand down his face,“ Sssshhhhhhhhh, Stephen, my sweet summer child, shut up and let me sleep.”

“I’m older, and I was born in winter-” he tried to correct her, but she was smooshing his lips around before he could finish.

“Ssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh”

He had to shake his face to get her to back off,“ At least scoot over, Rob. You’re hogging all the bed space.”

“Don’t be afraid of some cuddles.”

“I’m not, but we’re already spooning, and my ass is hanging off the mattress. Now scoot.”

It took a few more minutes for them to get themselves situated, but once they did, Steve and Robin both felt safer than they had all week.

They fell asleep like that. Robin all wrapped up in Steve’s arms. They both ran warm though, so they’d most likely end up kicking each other away as the night went on, but that was just par for the course with them. It’s still a little crazy to him that he has someone he cares about enough to hold, and it’s not some romantic thing. All of the touch he got to have in the past has come from romance. But when it’s the two of them, it didn’t have to be about that. He can just love someone without all the other stuff.

It was nice. Simple. Easy.

Steve Harrington seems to be learning a lot about non-romantic love those days. The way he was with the kids, his platonic bond with Robin, all these Hawkins moms showing him what familial ties to their kids can look like, even extending some of it to him… He did wish he could get a handle on the romantic kind too, seeing as he felt like he was completely losing interest in it no matter who he was with. But at the end of the day, the non-romantic stuff was pretty nice too.

Those were the kind of thoughts that carried him off to sleep. Robin’s were of a similar vein. Appreciating her best friend’s snarky remarks and comfortable arms as she drifted off. But her mind circled who else she’d like to share a nap with someday. She had thoughts of Vickie, of course. Funny thing is, Vickie wasn’t the only one she considered…

But that was a secret she wouldn’t dare speak of.

The rest of the night was nice. Uneventful. No monsters or phone calls. And when they woke up in the morning, just as was expected, they were both nearly pushed off of the bed by the other in a tangle of limbs and sheets. What they hadn’t expected was the smell of cooking wafting up from the kitchen.

Because Hopper took it upon himself to make breakfast.

God, he was such a dad. A good dad. For a house of way too many kids with shitty dads, he was a good dad.

Robin and Steve shoved against each other as they woke up and muddled their way downstairs, and it didn’t take long for everyone to have gathered to eat. Jim wasn’t very thoughtful about being quiet. The sound of pans on the stovetop wasn't gentle, it was time for everyone to wake up already anyhow. Seeing everyone with bed heads and sleepy eyes around the table was pretty fun. They all ate the array of bacon, sausage, pancakes, waffles, and eggs as Jim whipped them up.

Wasn’t too much later that there was some knocking on Steve’s front door. The five parents were each equipped with a mug of coffee and welcomed into the living room to discuss… everything. Again. It went just about the same as it had with the moms the night before. But this time, Nancy was sure to get all their favorite songs, too.

Karen has apparently always loved Olivia Newton-John and had a particular attachment to ‘I Think I’ll Say Goodbye’. Claudia got stuck between something by The Pointer Sisters or Billy Joel. It was Dustin who said that, because she was borderline in love with Billy, something of his was the safer bet. So she decided on 'Just the Way You Are'. Susan could only think of Cyndi Lauper’s ‘Time After Time’ because of how much Max played it after the Snow Ball. Sue always used Diana Ross songs for her kids' lullabies, ‘Reach Out I’ll Be There’ was her favorite. And Charles always insisted that the song they played for the first dance at their wedding was the best in the world, Stevie Wonder’s ‘My Girl’.

When everyone was settled on the situation most of the kids said they’d head home with their own parents in a bit, except for Lucas who went ahead and rode to the hospital with Steve before they all split off. The two wanted to check on the patients, of course. Susan had to work, but they promised her they’d call if anything happened or after she got off to tell her how Max looked. The boys walked fast past the cameras and got checked in to visit with Max and Eddie before they broke off into the opposite rooms with a plan to check in around lunchtime and eat together if there wasn’t any change in either’s condition.

So Lucas went into Max’s, and Steve turned into Eddie’s room and greeted him as he sat down.

“Sorry, I’m late today. Planned to show up on time, at eight, but those kids’ parents are so talkative. Honestly, you’re lucky you’re missing out on all the discussion that’s happened at my place in the last twelve hours. Turns out every parent in the midwest wants to be on the apocalypse squad. Anyway, sorry I was late. I’m here now for whatever’s on tv today.”

Steve was trying to relax and sit still. He honestly was. But it sucked. Everything sucked, and there was nothing good to watch, so he stood up practically every ten minutes to flip back through the channels on the hospital cable. He sort of wished he was the kind of guy who liked reading. Lucas seemed to enjoy reading that book to Max. They talked about it on the drive over. Lucas was apparently doing different voices for each character and everything. Making a show of it for her. It was sweet.

Steve couldn’t do something like that.

On what was probably his tenth time switching around the channels, he heard something. Something like the sound of fabric moving around a little. And it came from behind him. Where Eddie was.

He turned around, but Eddie wasn’t making any noise. Didn't look like he was stirring. But his face might’ve looked a little different. Like his expression had shifted, just a little bit.

Steve abandoned the unentertaining tv set, carefully sitting back down in the bedside chair,” Eddie?”

And there it was. A scrunch of Eddie’s nose and a sound that made the whole world seem brighter.

“Mmmm…”

That’s all it was. A low, grumbling hum. But it meant he was back. Eddie was back, and they didn’t lose him. Steve didn’t fail in getting him back soon enough.

Steve leaned forward,“ Hey, hey, you coming to?”

Eddie didn’t even open his eyes as he groaned,“ Was I dreaming, or were you kissing on me last night, Harrington?”

The comment pulled what Steve would call a stupid smile across his face, but he smiled all the same. He can’t be too messed up if he’s cracking jokes, right? He rolled his eyes at the other and said, in a purposely somewhat stuck-up tone,“ It’s called performing CPR, Munson, and it was not last night, for the record. But a nurse can tell you all about that, so I’ll go get-”

Eddie turned his head over and opened his eyes to look at Steve, quickly interrupting him with,“ Well, I can’t have been out too long. I see you’re still working on those whiskers, same as I last saw ‘em.”

He’d tried to motion towards Steve’s face, only to find he didn’t get very far with the cuffs. Not what a guy likes to wake up to. At least not in this condition.

“God forbid anyone tries anything around here.” Steve huffed, but sat up to pour some water from the plastic pitcher into the cup with the straw and wordlessly held it up for Eddie to take a sip,” It’s been a couple of days. Four days exactly. Four days since you tried to pull that stupid hero stunt.”

After a gulp to wet his whistle, Eddie let go of the straw and shook his head,“ Stupid hero stunt? Nah, that doesn’t sound like me. I thought we agreed on that.”

“Yeah, I thought we did. I said you and Dustin weren’t allowed to do hero shit, and then look at the mess I find not even an hour later.” Steve sat back and put down the cup.

“Oh, this? This wasn’t hero shit.” Eddie said.

Steve’s eyebrow quirked up,“ Really? It wasn't?”

“It absolutely was not. Because - I’ll remind you - you said, and I quote, ‘Don’t be cute or play hero.' And I agreed not to be a hero. So all this…?”

Steve let a small laugh slip out before he figured,“ This was you being cute, you mean?”

Eddie thought for a second that he’d like to pull a lock of hair in front of his face to play coy. Maybe rattle off some kind of teasing response like “You tell me” or “Did it work?” But the chains pinning his hands to the bedrail insisted he went for a different tactic.

So, instead, he settled for a wolfish grin and a more confident kind of remark,“ Hell yeah, this was me being cute, man.”

Steve shook his head in a way that vaguely reminded Eddie of when Wayne caught him trying to quietly strum his guitar past 3 am back in middle school. Wayne gently scorned him, told him it was a school night and the boy needed to get some sleep. Then he took the instrument and put it on top of the cabinets in the kitchen so he couldn’t reach it. But he hadn’t been mad. It was a kind of amused, faux-disappointment.

Anyway, it’s what Steve looked like as he said,“ It was still stupid. You tried to leave a little early there, you know.”

Eddie shrugged and shifted a little in the bed,“ Wasn’t really trying to. Just thought the light at the end of the tunnel looked pretty nice ‘n all.”

“Yeah, well maybe ignore it a little longer next time. I had kids sobbing all around me because you decided to stop breathing on the way here.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. You think they’ll forgive me for it?” he looked over at Steve with pleading eyes.

“They will when they see you talking again.” Steve started to stand up,” So, I should go get a nur-”

But then Eddie interrupted him again, and pretty sharply too,“ Where are those gremlins at anyway? Can’t believe Steve Harrington is the one bothering to come by this sick guy’s bed.”

Steve got quiet and relaxed back down in the chair.

“Max got hurt real bad, she’s in another room. Hasn’t woken up yet. The kids are with their families trying to figure stuff out. Plan the next move. Hawkins was hit with a lot, so it’s a bit of a shit show all over town. And we’re the crack team here to clean it up.”

“Jesus, what happened?”

“You don’t remember?” he asked,” When the world started shaking, and everything went red while the ground split open?”

“Okay, that rings a bell. But, to be fair, I was bleeding out, man. Shit’s still a little bit fuzzy.” Eddie explained.

Steve nodded knowingly and said,“ Which is why I keep trying to tell you that I should go get a nurse-”

“Do you have to?” Eddie cut in suddenly. And there was something behind the way he said it. Steve couldn’t exactly pin it down, but he didn’t just seem inconvenienced or disinterested.

“They kinda need to look you over. Make sure there isn’t anything else wrong with you, besides the loose screws.”

Eddie turned away a little, and got quieter,“ The second you tell them I’m up… it’s going to be a whole thing, isn’t it?”

And Steve didn’t have an answer.

“It’s going to get crazy, and everything’s going to happen so fast, and it’s… gonna be scary, man...”

That’s what it was. Eddie looked scared. Steve could see it now. It wasn’t like when Eddie was ranting and raving when he’d been freaked out before. This Eddie looked small.

“And once it starts, it’s not going to stop, so just - I don’t know - keep wasting my time and tell me what’s going on before they lock me in a cell and throw away the key,” Eddie asked him.

Steve tried to assure him,“ They aren’t going to-”

Eddie locked his eyes with Steve again,“ Please? Let me have just a little bit longer?”

And Steve just couldn’t say no. Seemed to feel that way a lot those days. Maybe he spends too much time with people whose lives suck so bad he just wants to give them whatever they want.

“A few more minutes. But then an actual, medical professional needs to make sure you won’t croak on us.”

“Deal.”

Steve leaned back in the chair and started,“ Well, the Upside Down was trying to get into this side. In Hawkins, the ground split open and both sides were connected for a bit. The gate cut this huge “X” across the city which was recorded as a huge earthquake. Like record-breaking magnitude getting reported on every news station kind of huge. I mean- City Hall’s gone, the General Hospital took damage, Library is about half rubble right now. Some of the trailers were completely destroyed, including half of yours, and a line was cut through some of the suburbs, not sure how many of those houses came apart, a few of the businesses downtown were demolished, and the others are all closed down anyway… And today’s Monday, by the way, but they’ve got the high school set up as the relief center right now, so there are no classes you’re missing or anything. Like I said, shit show. Everywhere.”

“Sounds like there are a dozen other things you could be doing if you wanted to then. Like resting up yourself. So what’re you doing here? Didn’t think my display, as incredibly cute as it was, woulda been enough to turn your head.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, it’s just a lot quieter here than at my place.” Steve found himself brushing off the fact that he, in fact, had been pretty worried about Eddie the entire time.

“What does that mean?”

Moving right along, he scratched the back of his neck and admitted,“ Uh, it’s a little packed back there right now.”

“Why would your family come to Hawkins now for a reunion?” Eddie assumed.

“Oh, no. Not my family. My folks are over in Washington right now.” And after he said it, he realized he’d just set himself up to explain a little bit more about his family life than he had originally planned to tell someone he just met officially less than two weeks before.

“Washington?” Eddie asked.

And yup, they were going to have this conversation it seemed. Hopefully, Steve can make him lose interest quickly enough,“ Work. Work for my dad, at least. Mom’s just with him to make sure he stays in line.”

And Eddie just looked at him all confused.

“Stays faithful,” Steve hinted.

“Oh. So who is in your house right now?”

“Some of the Byers. Jonathan, Will, and El. And a new guy, Argyle. They all showed up a few days ago. And then we got a shipment of homeless adults in last night too. Joyce and Hop and Murray - speaking of it, turns out Hop is way less dead than we thought. And all the kids crashed there, too. Our party loves sleepovers, it seems…” Steve was lovingly shaking his head when he noticed Eddie’s wide eyes on him,“ What? Those people help save the world all the time. I wasn’t going to just let them sleep on those stiff cots in the high school. It’s a four-bedroom house, might as well put them all to use.”

“And you’re sure the Harrington’s are fine with the fact that their son is passing out their keys like candy on Halloween?” Eddie asked doubtfully.

Steve thought to himself for a moment and admitted a truth he had been trying not to think too much about over the last few weeks,“ I don’t think they’re really planning to come back to Hawkins after all this.”

“Really? Just a couple days and you’re already so sure they’re done with this place...”

“Well, it’s been…” he hummed to himself, putting on an act like he had to actually think about it. Like his mind doesn’t tally every morning he wakes up and his mom and dad are still gone. Like he doesn’t already know he hasn’t seen them for over,” Three months? Yeah, I guess that sounds about right.”

He’d tried to make it seem like some casual thing, hoped he did a better job than he had in front of Joyce the night before, but Eddie didn’t take it as something small,” Three months?”

“Yeah, my dad’s a busy guy, and I’m not a baby anymore. Once I graduated they wasted decidedly less time in Indiana.”

“The town their kid lives in has a serial killer, faces the biggest earthquake the Midwest probably has ever seen, and they don’t come home to check in?” Eddie pushed. While his parents were out of the picture, he couldn’t even imagine Wayne letting him go even a week without seeing him, even if he’d graduated.

“You give Mr. and Mrs. Harrington too much credit.”

“Damn. So you’re fucked up just like the rest of us, huh?”

“The stars; they’re just like you and me.” he ended the line with a wink.

“Jesus. And, not to be self-centered and all about me or anything, but… how is the town with the whole…?”

“The whole… suspecting you of serial murder thing?” Steve finished for him.

“Yeah, that’s the one. How are they doing with that?”

“Well, most people probably still think you did it. But, uh, we’re working on it. Well, Nance and Robin are leading the thing mostly. It’s looking up, believe it or not. They have some strategy, and the cops seemed like they were leaning our way after we gave our statements. They’ll need to take yours, too. But I think we’ll get out of this.” he explained,” But if some guys with a camera crew try to talk to you, call a nurse and get them kicked out. They’ve been crowding the front doors and trying to get into your hospital room for the last few days, apparently.”

“Camera crew?” he wondered, interest piquing.

“A news team from Indianapolis has been trying to do a feature on the ‘Satanic killings that opened a portal to hell in the super cursed small-town’. And a few other fringe groups are looking to stake their big break on your sudden fame too.”

“So…” Eddie considered,” You’re saying this is my chance to shoot to stardom? Quick, I need you to bring my sweetheart, an amp, and a mic. Help me land my career in the big leagues, Harrington.”

Steve stood up and placed a hand on Eddie’s cuffed wrist with a tight smile,“ I absolutely will not.”

Eddie scoffed and tossed his head over at the betrayal.

He let go and started heading for the door as he continued,“ I will, however, make sure a nurse comes in to look you over. I’ll also radio the kids and let them know you’re up. You’re in for a storm of love, you know? Gonna get bruises from all the hugs, I’m telling you.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Eddie called to him as he went into the hall.

And maybe Steve did originally intend to do the responsible thing and get a nurse immediately. But then he thought about Lucas. Someone who was right there already and deserved to see Eddie as soon as possible. So he just walked into the other room instead.

“Hey Lucas, you wanna take a break?” he offered, hanging off the door frame for a second as he stepped inside.

“I don’t need a break from Max. And we said noon, it’s not even eleven o’clock yet.”

“You might not need it,” Steve agreed,” But there’s something across the hall you might want to see.”

Steve thought to himself that part of the reason he wanted Lucas to see Eddie, wasn’t even for Eddie’s sake. It was for Lucas’s. Because he needed to see someone come out of a coma before he convinced himself that Max never would. Steve needed to foster a little bit of hope wherever he could with these kids.

“What?” Lucas questioned.

And instead of dancing around the good news any longer, Steve let the smile break across his face as he told him,“ Eddie’s awake.”

And Lucas all but shot up out of his chair,“ He is?”

“Yeah, he is. I’ll radio everyone else and let ‘em know, but since you’re already here, you can stop by if you want. As long as you call a nurse over after you two have a minute to catch up.” Steve made him agree to do it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucas took a few steps toward him until he froze and looked back at Max,” Will you…?”

“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on Mayfield.” Steve closed the distance between them and clapped Lucas on the shoulder,” Go ahead and try talking to someone who’ll answer for a bit.”

And so they switched places.

Steve sat down in the chair Lucas had been in and picked up the book he set on Max’s sheets. He thought about maybe picking up where the kid left off, but set it back down and decided that wasn’t his thing. His thing seemed to be waxing on emotionally to sleeping people. So he crossed his legs and set himself to try and convince Max to pull through. Even though they figured she wouldn’t until Vecna was dealt with, he still wanted to try a little pep talk.

“Come on, Maxie. You’re the last one now. Can’t believe you let Munson beat you. Would’ve bet good money you were a way faster little punk than he was. So… hurry up, alright. I’ve been told you’re supposed to go to a movie on Friday. Might be patching things up with a certain ex-boyfriend you shoulda never ended things with. I don’t know what Friday you’ll be aiming for at this point. But there’s some cool stuff out right now, if you wait too long there might only be boring stuff screening. And we can’t let you and Lucas get back together with a boring movie. I really would like to see you two happy together, you know? So you need a good one. Make this old man proud and snag him up before some other girl tries to steal him. But you gotta wake up to do that… so, I don’t know, sucker punch Vecna or something and break out of this already. I think you can take him down. Way tougher than anyone else I know. Don't keep me waiting. We need you back.”

[lovebugism]

Hi!!!

Could you write jealous!eddie x reader…🫣

I’m down so bad for this man istg

ty for requesting :D i too am down bad for this man — grump!eddie can't believe other people get to look at you (jealous!eddie, established relationship, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie thought the comic book section of Family Video was the coolest thing in the world until he met you. And it’s weird ‘cause now you’re all he can think about. He’s holding a collector’s item in his hands, but all he can see is you — and how close you’re standing to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The boy lays two VHS tapes on the counter before you, each packaged in a thick plastic case. My Neighbor Totoro and The Land Before Time. He waits for you to make an impossible choice while you idle just ahead of him, elbows propped on the countertop with your head in your hands. Your wide-eyed gaze darts between the two options.

Your head shakes between your palms. “I can’t decide,” you conclude, rising to full height with a final huff. “It’s like choosing your favorite child.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have to,” Steve quips with a lopsided smirk. His nose scrunches, and it makes his honey eyes sparkle. “‘Cause you’re getting both. On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, brows pinched in a quiet sort of protest.

He drops the tapes into a plastic bag, then shrugs like his hand slipped. “Too late.”

“Won’t your boss get mad?”

“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,” you agonize, face twisted with every bit of it.

Steve meets your worry with a wider, pink grin. He bounces a shoulder and jostles the nametag pinned haphazardly to his emerald vest. “I’ll be fine, alright? I’m strong— I can take one of Keith’s stupid lectures.”

Your hesitant fingers brush his golden ones when you take the bag from him. “You’re so brave, Steve Harrington,” you lilt with a teasing glint in your eye, tilting your cheek to your shoulder to feign sincerity.

“The bravest, actually,” the boy jokes in return.

Eddie watches all this play out from where he lingers at the comic book stand. A whole rack of his favorite superheroes, and he isn’t paying an ounce of attention to a single one. 

He was only halfway listening at first, still mostly focused on the cartoon in his hands — if only to pretend he wasn’t completely eavesdropping on your conversation. But now he’s outright staring the two of you down, with an unabashed glare pointed at the asshole flirting with his girl. 

“God, he’s disgusting,” Eddie grumbles under his breath when Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He’s not talking totally to himself. Not entirely, anyway. Dustin’s crouched just beside him in search of one of the newer comics that he swears Keith is hiding from him. “He’s just being nice,” the curly-haired boy reasons with a shrug, obviously distracted as he flips through a stack of flimsy magazines.

Eddie scoffs and finally turns away from you to look at the boy below him. He blinks for the first time in several minutes as he shoots the kid a deadpan stare. “Oh, so it’s not because he thinks my girlfriend’s hot?”

“He’s definitely doing it because she’s hot,” Dustin answers without thinking twice.

“Watch it, Henderson.”

“You asked!” he argues, tilting his chin to look up at Eddie with a wide, ocean-eyed stare. “I’m just saying. Steve’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that to you— Now, can you please help me find this stupid comic book before I lose my mind?”

Eddie huffs. He decides it might be healthier to distract himself with this metaphorical treasure hunt than stare daggers at you and Steve from across the room. “Which one are you looking for again?”

“Metamorpho— The original. Not the stupid reprint that just came out.”

The older boy stills. He closes the comic book between his palms with one pale hand until the cover of it flips down. Metamorpho, the vibrant cover reads, The Element Man. He’d been too busy looking at you, he hadn’t realized he’d been hiding the thing from Dustin for five whole minutes.

“Is this it?” Eddie murmurs, shoving the thing in the boy’s face.

Dustin’s head shoots up. He snatches the thing from the boy’s grip and gapes at it, with all his practiced teenage boy dramatics. “You had it the entire time?!” he shouts, but Eddie’s already sauntering to the front counter — where Steve’s still making you laugh. 

As pretty as you are smiling (so much that it makes his chest ache), there’s a simmering anger burning orange in his chest. Making you laugh is his job. Not Harrington’s.

You seem to notice his presence before he’s even wrapped you in his arms. You flash him a beaming grin that makes his stomach whirl. He gets sick with it — with nostalgia or something equally tender. 

The green of his envy starts to fade when he realizes you’re wearing his skull and cross-bones sweater, all bundled up in it like it’s yours. He feels a primal sense of ownership, knowing that you’re swaddled in something that belongs to him, knowing he has you in a way Steve doesn’t. It’s not every day the local freak gets to one-up the king.

“Ready to go?” Eddie grins, rosy and broad, as he wraps his arms around you in a loose, sideways embrace. The warmth of the proximity has your stomach doing backflips. The familiarity of his scent, musky and woody and smoky, makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.

“Yep,” you nod, still smiling. “Steve’s letting me get the movies for free.”

Eddie’s lips smack against his teeth as his jaw drops in a feigned sense of awe. His wild curls bunch at his shoulder when his head tilts softly sideways, looking at the boy across the counter. “Aw,” he croons, high-pitched and sarcastic. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up before I revoke your comic stand privileges.”

Eddie squints. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Munson.”

Eddie, deciding to be the bigger person, chooses to abandon the petty argument. He feels like the bigger person, anyway — like he’s ten feet tall, walking out of Family Video with you under his arm. He could lose a thousand arguments and still feel like a winner as long as he gets to crawl home to you.

You can’t help but notice how weird he’s being, though. There was a foreign bite behind his words as he spat his sarcasm at Steve. The tension follows you even now, as he opens the passenger side door of his van for you. 

Eddie holds onto the rusted latch with a pale, tattooed hand. You turn to face him instead of planting yourself onto the chipping pleather seat. “Are you okay?” you ask, a subtle furrow between your brows when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

The boy scoffs a boyish laugh, obviously overcompensating. “Yeah, I’m fine— what are you talking about?”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”

“I think you’re being weird, doll— interrogating me outta nowhere.” 

He expects you to laugh. Then he could tell you how pretty you are, and you’d be so flustered by the compliment that you’d forget this entire conversation ever happened. You don’t laugh, though. You don’t even crack a smile. You just keep staring at him.

“I’m fine,” Eddie groans, wild curls billowing when a breeze rolls by. He still tries to smile, though the bright pink expression doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He shrugs and tries to play it cool because anything less than that is so not metal. “I’m just… I’m just a little annoyed. That’s all.”

Your chest stings and your stomach starts to ache. Your mind reels as you try to understand what you could’ve done because the oh-so-sensitive you feels like it must be your fault.

“Annoyed at me?” you press in a tiny voice.

“No!” Eddie booms instantly, much louder than you. He quietens, but his face still swirls with protest. He could never be annoyed at you. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. “No— are you kidding? You’re perfect.”

He takes your face in his ringed hands, cradling your cheeks until they squish softly together. A perfect thing, indeed.

“Then what happened?” you mutter through your gently jutted lips.

The boy drops his chin to his chest and sighs. He hates that you care so much about him that you actually make him talk about his feelings. He’d much rather bottle them up and save ‘em for a rainy day. But no, you love him enough to pry the hidden emotion from his cold, black heart.

“I don’t know,” he answers first in an inaudible murmur, kicking at loose pebbles on the concrete because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. “Sometimes it gets annoying when… Other people look at you, I guess…”

He peeks at you beneath his long lashes, button eyes made of chocolate. They swim with a glittering emotion. Something tender and sheepish. He’s like a puppy when he looks at you this way. You can’t help but find him utterly adorable accordingly.

He’s a little surprised when his words make you laugh. He wasn’t joking, really, but he’s relieved to hear the honeyed sound. It runs over him like drops of summer rain and absolves him of all his envy.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can fix that,” you reply, smiling wide between his calloused palms.

“I know,” he whines, pouting softly. “And it sucks. ‘Cause you’re too pretty for your own good.”

You lean further into his warm hand. You blink at him with pretty eyes, and in a pretty voice, you wonder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that I only care when you’re looking at me? And that everyone else is basically invisible when you’re around?”

Eddie’s heart swells so much it starts to ache. You’ve awoken something in him — something that used to be dead before you came around, or something that didn’t exist at all. It’s something golden and made of velvet. Something warm and honeyed. Something that doesn’t have a name because you don’t even know you’ve invented it.

Despite trying not to smile too wide, a beam begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. A second later, and he’s grinning with all his teeth. He gets all shy, ducking his gaze as he nods at you. “Yeah, actually— that does make me feel a little better.”

You beam up at him, all lovesick and stupid. With your cheeks still in his hands, you rise to the tips of your toes and press a smacking kiss to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Eddie figures it doesn’t get more metal than this.

[hairmetal666]

TW for internalized homophobia and related bad decisions

Steve is 12 and he thinks about finding his soulmate all the time.

You're supposed to find them through touch; your life together will flash in front of your eyes. They're rare, though, soulmates. So rare that most people never find theirs. So rare that some people say they're made up.

Steve wants to be one of the lucky few. He wants it to be a true, unbreakable bond, a love he gets to have forever.

He wonders if he'll find his soulmate at school. He's popular, he thinks. Tommy would say they were popular. But Tommy's definition of popular mostly has to do with the number of kids he can get away with being mean to, and that's not really Steve's deal. Tommy is like a prey animal, the way he can find weaknesses.

There's a new boy at school. Steve doesn't know his name, but they have English together. He's too thin, with huge brown eyes, and all his clothes are too big. His head's been inexpertly shaved and he never looks anybody in the eye. It's only a matter of time before he catches Tommy's interest, and Steve wishes he could stop it somehow, but he's never been good at going against Tommy.

The day comes, of course. They're standing in the hall, the new boy walking towards them, head down, as always. Tommy nudges Steve says, "What a loser."

And Steve shrugs, starts to ask Tommy about football, if the Colts can make the Super Bowl, but the boy is nearing and Tommy is cackling.

"Watch this." Tommy sticks his foot out.

The boy doesn't react fast enough. He falls forward with a bitten off yelp, and Steve moves without really thinking, only knows he can't stand to see him fall. He catches the new kid beneath his armpits, Steve's thumbs brushing the soft skin his arms.

The world around him falls away at the touch.

---

He's sitting on the floor in the band room, Eddie--the boy's name is Eddie--next to him. Eddie's hair is a little longer and Steve's in a green polo he doesn't recognize, and he's never been in the band room in his life. They're leaning into each other and laughing and Eddie's so beautiful.

---

They're in the woods--Skull Rock, Steve thinks. Eddie's hair is curled and frizzed around his chin, and he's laughing, his cheeks pink, his dimples prominent. He tries to pull his hair in front of his face, but it's not long enough yet to reach. Steve is overwhelmed, wants to kiss him so bad. He's never had to wait to kiss someone, or been unsure, or--

He wants to kiss Eddie.

So, he does.

It's hard, desperate, not the first kiss Steve expected, but then they've been waiting for so long.

---

Steve stands in the hallway of Hawkins High. He's wearing a striped, beige short-sleeved polo, and flirting with Nancy Wheeler.

He likes Nancy, she's pretty and smart and fun. And it's easy. He can hold her hand. Can introduce her to his parents. Can take her on dates and kiss her in public.

She bats her big blue eyes at him, and he can't help but kiss her.

He pulls away gently, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and when he looks down the hall, Eddie is there, frozen. His mouth is wide, his eyes glassy.

Steve thinks the way his heart stutters must be what dying feels like.

---

He's sitting on his diving board, facing away from the pool. He smokes a cigarette and there's a bat studded with nails at his feet, what the fuck. Music thuds, shrieks and laughter seep into the cool night air.

He should be playing the gracious host. He should be having a good time. Instead, his eyes search the woods and he taps another smoke out of the pack.

"Harrington?" The voice makes him jump, hand flexing around the bat handle. "It's freezing out. What are you doing?"

He recognizes the voice now, doesn't turn, doesn't respond, can't stand to see another person he let down; another person who could call him bullshit and be 100% correct.

"Do you not have a jacket? C'mon, man."

Something warm settles over his shoulders, and he inadvertently breathes in weed and leather and cedar. He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make the comforting, familiar scent go away. He'll have to move to shrug off the jacket, though, which would mean acknowledging Eddie's presence.

"Can you at least say something, Harrington? You're freaking me out."

"I'm fine, Ed--Eddie." The nickname falls from his lips too easily. He doesn't miss how Eddie flinches.

His hair is long now, down to his shoulders, brittle looking in the cold. He's wearing a t-shirt and worn flannel, arms wrapped around his chest for warmth now that his jacket is draped over Steve's shoulders.

Steve is an idiot. He's such an idiot. Chasing after Nancy when Eddie is--

"I'm sorry," he says. He turns to face his soulmate, then. "I'm sorry about Nancy, I--"

Eddie jerks back like he's been hit. "Fuck you, Harrington," he snarls.

---

He sits in the back of an ambulance, eyes swollen shut, face throbbing. He's wearing a sailor suit for inexplicable reasons, which is almost more upsetting than the ambulance. He smells like puke and something toxically sweet.

A girl is with him, one he doesn't recognize, but he feels deeply, instinctively protective of her. He holds her shaking shoulders tight, tries to whisper comfort to her through his busted and bleeding mouth.

He's pretty sure he has a concussion.

"Steve!" Someone screams over the sounds of the EMTs and firefighters, of the building burning and collapsing behind them.

Eddie bursts through the gathered onlookers and past the ring of police cars enclosing them. He's falling into the ambulance before Steve has a chance to react.

"Sweetheart," Eddie sobs. He tries to cup Steve's face, but his fingers flutter around the damage. "Sweetheart, oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you--what can I--"

Steve stares at him--his hair falling from its messy bun, his cutoff Metallica tee, concern and love leaking from those brown, brown eyes--and bursts into tears.

---

They sit on the roof of his house, sharing a joint back and forth. It's chilly, bordering on cold, winter just on the horizon. They're laughing, leaning into each other, and Steve is--he's happy. Elated. Could float away with it.

Robin--Robin-- is in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen for snacks, and it's just them for now. They're looking at each other, smiles wide, eyes bright.

They're taking it slow. Steve knows it's important, after what he did. They talked about it, his abandoning of Eddie for Nancy, chasing what his dad told him was normal and expected.

He doesn't want to cross any boundaries, wants to do this right. How Eddie deserves. But they're leaning into each other and they're smiling, and he's so in love. Intoxicated with it, lost.

In the end, he doesn't know who makes the first move, just that they're kissing and it's like coming home.

---

He's in a building, a shed or something. It's musty and dirty, smells like oil and gasoline and a building left closed up too long. Eddie's in his arms and he's talking through hiccuping sobs.

"I didn't save her, Steve. I didn't help. I just left her there! She was broken in pieces and I--I--"

Steve holds him close, tight, squeezes his eyes closed to stop his own tears from falling. He never wanted this for Eddie, never wanted him involved. Thought he could protect him from all of Hawkins's terrible things.

They aren't alone. Robin is there, coming up to hold Eddie too, plus a redheaded girl and curly haired boy he doesn't recognize.

"We'll figure this out, Eddie." The boy promises.

"We won't let anyone hurt you. We know you didn't murder Chrissy," the girl says.

---

Steve is in a world he doesn't understand, and Eddie is his arms. Eddie is in his arms, and there's blood everywhere. He's not awake, he's not--his heart beat is soft and slow, too slow, and his breathing stutters, and Steve can't--

"Baby, stay with me." He begs as he runs across the dead and rotting landscape. "Eddie, please. Wake up, okay? Wake up for me. I need to--I need to know that you're alright."

Eddie stays limp in his arms.

"Please," he begs. "You can't leave me. We promised, remember? We promised we'd be together forever. The rest of our lives. Me and You. Our six little nuggets. You promised."

The portal back to Hawkins is less than a dozen feet away, he's so close. Eddie gasps to consciousness, but his eyes are still hazy.

"Hi, sweetheart," he mumbles.

"Hey, hi, you're doing so good. We're almost out, okay? We're almost out and we'll get you to the hospital."

Eddie reaches out a weak hand, touches the edge of Steve's jaw. "Love you, Stevie," he whispers. "Glad you were mine."

He goes still in Steve's hold.

---

The images come faster now--

A hospital room at Hawkins General, Eddie hooked to machines. Steve holds hands with an older man. They wait in terrified silence

Eddie propped in a bed, a bunch of kids around him, Steve and Robin at his side. His eyes keep sliding to Steve, like he's making sure Steve's real, that he's still there

Their bodies tangled together in a bedroom Steve doesn't recognize

Steve down on one knee in a marble room lit only by black and red candles, Eddie standing in front of him

Hand-in-hand on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. The Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, stands in front of them with tears in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face

In a big, green yard behind a cozy little house. A little boy with Eddie's eyes and curls riding on his shoulders. Eddie sprinting around with a tiny girl giggling after him, perfect imitation of the King Steve hair-do on her tiny head

In a park, surrounded by family and friends. Steve has a little bit of a paunch and wears glasses. Eddie's hair streams around his shoulders, going grey at the temples. There's a banner strung between trees proclaiming 'Happy 20th Steve and Eddie!' They're surrounded by everyone they love and it's perfect

---

The images flash too fast for Steve to catalog after that, seconds-long glimpses of a shared future, and then he's back in his body in the hallway of Hawkins Middle, still holding too tight onto Eddie's arms.

Eddie rears back, face pale and terrified, and Steve is too shocked to do anything but let him go.

Tommy's yelling, but Steve only has eyes for his soulmate, who scrambles to his feet and throws himself down the hall away from them.

"What the hell, Harrington? Why'd you catch him? That was about to be funny as hell! I bet he'd have broken his nose--you ruined it!"

Steve isn't listening. He's trying to hold on to the memories of their life together, the ones that are already fading.

The last thing he remembers is that, sometime in the not-too-distant future, he'll find his way to the band room, Eddie Munson, and the rest of their lives.

[urhoneycombwitch]

I know what they call you.

🍯 honey flavour: You’re a little lost in your head. Eddie wants to find you.

🐝 the bees: Eddie x shy!Reader, best friends Steve + Robin

wc: 11k 

cw: alcohol/weed used as a social crutch, R is hassled by a guy at a party (but her boys back her up), brief vomit mention, implied bad home life for R, light SH by way of tight grip, PTSD, R has breasts+V, praise kink, oral (R receiving), one (1) spank, multiple orgasms (R), soft dom!eddie, overstim, coming in pants (E)

foreword: The healing properties of good head <333 Anyways I labeled this R “shy” but she’s more… introverted? Reserved? this one goes out to the weird and off-putting girlies who have a lot to say but are kinda quiet instead. Timeline may be a bit wibbly but designed it to be early 4th-season era, with R (early 20s) having played an undetermined part in the various Upside Down battles from seasons previous.

Loosely based on this anon every1 say thank you anon!

___

It’s spring break, 1986, and you’re cursing the name of your so-called “best friend” Robin Buckley.

You didn’t even want to go to this stupid kegger in the first place, arguing with her the whole ride over from Steve’s backseat.

“Don’t you think it’s totally lame that you’re basically being chaperoned by two gap-year losers?” you’d said, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the console, seatbelt pulling taut across your Rolling Stones tee. “You’re a big girl, Robin, you don’t need Steve and me to babysit you anymore.”

Robin began protesting but Steve interrupted, tapping at your forearms without looking away from the road- “Sit back, wouldja, that’s not safe. And for the record, it’d only be lame if we were, like, thirty and still going to high school kickbacks. Gap-year drinking parties are a rite of passage.”

You’d sat back against your seat with a huff, arms crossed, unconvinced until Robin turned those big pleading eyes your way over the back of her seat. “You wanna talk about lame? Lame is me getting anywhere within a 60-foot radius of Vickie. I am totally hopeless around that absolute beauty.”

She’d twisted in her seat and reached for your hand, and you gave it to her grudgingly (the two of you ignoring another of Steve’s gripe about vehicular safety) as she said, “You’re like, the best wingwoman I’ve ever met. Please come to the party and help me avoid the natural disaster that is me running my mouth.”

Robin wasn’t just being generous- you were a killer third wheel. Especially when alcohol was involved: the walls that you naturally upheld around your introverted demeanor by day turned liquid as whiskey by night, often scoring you major cool points with your friends for things you barely remembered doing the day after. 

So you’d relented, and in turn resolved to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible (in the name of Robin’s aid, of course), but turns out your best friend didn’t even need your help in the first place; within 5 minutes of setting foot in the crammed house party Robin won a spot right next to Vickie on the living room couch, starry-eyed gaze saved only for the redhead that bore no room for your intervention.

Three shots ago, the situation would have struck you as funny, but it’s been a lonely time (what with Steve abandoning you, too, in favor of chatting up some college blonde); drifting from packed room to packed room, sneakers sticking to the floorboards, winding through throngs of sweaty dancing students just to keep on top of your alcohol consumption.

Kind of like hunting in the wild, you muse, leaned against a wall with red solo cup in hand. Flirt with Amy Thacker and her low-cut blouse to access the watering hole (Mystery Punch, green both in color and flavor); let Lenny Baker put his paws on your waist to gain entry to the standing liquor cabinet. The stuff of nature docs.

If this dimly-lit Hawkins party is the savanna, then you are the antelope- grazing on snacks, never staying in one spot for too long, minding your own business and staying way the hell away from the lion’s den (the group of jocks in Hawkins Tigers polos).

Unfortunately, you push off the wall in search of a refill at the same time Lenny Baker decides to sidle up to you, nearly knocking the cup from your grasp when he bends his thick head to shout in your ear above the music. 

“Great party, right?” His arms are crossed above his tank of a chest, blocking you from a smooth exit via the kitchen archway.

“If you’re into drunk teens, I guess,” you say back, pointedly, licking a stripe up your wrist from where the punch had sloshed onto your bare arm. 

When you look back up Lenny’s still standing there, watching you with a hungry edge that’s starting to make your well-honed antelope-sense tingle. As you not-so-subtly cast your glance around for Steve, Lenny leans in again, close enough to give you a sour whiff of his breath. “I’m legal, if that’s what’s got your panties in a twist. And what’s wrong with having some fun?”

“I’m not into having fun with douchebags who ‘roid away their remaining brain cells to bully my friends,” you retort, flatly. You doubt this guy knows you’re connected to the Hellfire group (de facto sitter, second only to Steve), but the insult seems to land anyways. 

Lenny scoffs, going for a low blow to offset the sting of his bruised ego- “If you’re trying to play the part of slut, you were doing a way better job earlier.”

What the meathead hasn’t picked up on yet is your absolute lack of care about him- or anyone else at this stupid fucking party, for that matter. Besides Robin and Steve, obviously, but they’re equally indisposed at the moment. You’re feeling bold enough that you could play dirty: throw the dregs of your drink in his face, make a real scene- but the shots from earlier are hitting you sideways and you’re not entirely confident in your ability to multitask. 

So instead, with a wink, you tell him, “At least this slut knows when to quit,” and turn on your heel, abandoning the kitchen escape route for a closer door that leads to the back porch.

You suck in lungfuls of cool night air, trying to clear the fuzz of booze from your vision. When you don’t hear any angry footsteps following in your wake, you sink against the wooden bannister and tip back the last of your drink in one swallow. Maybe Steve doubled back to the car…?

With your empty cup left neatly on the railing, you set off down the couple of steps that separate you from the grass, except the toe of your shoe catches on a hidden groove in the wood, and nothing is within reach to grab onto as you trip and begin to fall.

The stumble should have ended with you facedown in the dirt, but something- someone- solid breaks your downward path, catching the upper half of your body in a sturdy hold even as your legs twist around themselves.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I gotcha. You okay?”

The voice is instantly familiar, one that you’ve heard ringing out from underneath the drama room door on countless occasions as you’ve waited on your various child wards to wrap up their D&D sessions.

Eddie Munson is holding you in his leather-clad arms, larger than life with that big cloud of hair and doe-eyed gaze matching yours. He helps you stand, properly, dropping his hands once you’re stabilized and taking the warmth of his palms with him. 

“You okay?” he asks again, tilting his head, looking at you with fresh concern from under that mop of bangs. “Looks like you had a lot to drink.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you drawl, bravado flooding back in. “Am I really gonna get a fucking lecture on drinking from my local drug dealer?”

Instead of rising to the bait or bristling at your tone, Eddie grins- delighted, wolfish- before letting out a low whistle. “Who coulda guessed: resident Shy Girl has a mouth on her.”

You twist said mouth into your own smile, one that you hope is coy and charming and not dorkily lopsided (because you stopped being able to feel your face after that last drink), and coo, “You thinkin’ about my mouth, Munson?”

He laughs- a full, vibrant sound that lights up the night. There’s a flutter in your ribcage, knocking up a frenzy at the noise, like it wants to get out and at him, but you tamp it down and play it cool.

“You’ve only seen me in the cold, unforgiving light of day,” you continue, as Eddie rifles through his pockets, surfacing with a pack of cigs, eye contact yet to be broken. “My nighttime alter ego is a real riot, all liquored up.”

“Well, I happen to think you’re a riot in the sober light of day, too.” Eddie shrugs a shoulder as he flips the lid of the cigarette box.

You’re unsure if he’s messing with you- he’s gotta be, right? The only meaningful interaction you two have had in the past handful of years has been through the courtesy of the children in your respective care- a few surface-level conversations during carpool pickup, some flirting on his end that you’ve always been too skittish to return. 

Well, until now, you guess. Maybe this is a good thing, him seeing you like this- it’ll either scare him away, or you’ll finally make good on the quiet crush you’ve been harboring.

You’re about to speak again when the porch door opens with a bang; you and Eddie swivel at the same time to see Lenny clomping noisily towards the steps, voice booming out over the thrum of bass back inside- “This freak bothering you?”

You look between the metalhead and the jock, eyes wide and mocking as you call back, “No, but you’re starting to!”

“Jesus, talk about poking the bear,” you hear Eddie mutter behind you, but your focus is taken up by the fact that Lenny is tromping down the steps and reaching out to grab your upper arm, his cold and clammy palm taking up a sizeable amount of space.

You can feel that rage, simmering and easily accessed, start to crawl over your skin. You stand your ground in the face of someone much larger than you, sneakers planted firmly, chin tilted in defiance- I’ve killed monsters in alternate dimensions, asswipe. You might’ve scared me back in high school but now I dare you to fuck with me. 

Before Eddie can jump to your defense, you’re already going in for the bite, voice dripping with derisiveness. “So glad your right hand found its way off your dick for a change, Len. How about you do me one better and take it far, far away from here?”

Lenny’s face is almost purple with anger as his grip tightens, and you feel Eddie moving in at your back- to do what exactly, hard to say, ‘cuz Lenny’s got about 60 pounds on the lanky DM- but just as fast as the tension has ramped up, it gets diffused with the arrival of one Steve Harrington from around the corner of the house.

He cuts a smooth path through the grass to your other side, Robin’s sweater slung over one arm, twirling his car keys in neat loops around his finger, boasting a casual demeanor that doesn’t match up with the steely look he’s giving Lenny. “You heard the girl, Baker. Time to am-scray.”

Whether it’s the rumors of Steve’s nail bat or the manic look in your eyes or the fact that he’s outnumbered, Lenny’s got plenty of reason now to drop your arm. 

Which he does, spitting one last “bitch” at you before hulking off into the night.

The anger in you recedes like a wave. You breathe out a dry laugh, then turn back to the boys, clasping your hands over your heart with faux-dopeyness. “My heroes. How will I ever repay you?”

“Shutting up, for a change, would be a great start,” Steve grouses over the sound of Eddie’s cackles.

“Holy shit. Can’t believe your girl’s feistiness almost landed me in the hospital.” Eddie shakes his head, plucking a cigarette out and sticking it between his plush lips.

“She’s not my girl,” Steve says, even as you wind your arms around his chest from behind, tucking your chin over his shoulder. “She is, unfortunately, my problem.”

“I love when you two talk about me like I’m not here.” You simper at Eddie from your draped position.

He’s watching you with a fondness that feels overly familiar, through the haze of smoke streaming from his nostrils as you pat the chest beneath your hands- “Don’t worry about ol’ Stevie boy. He’s turned into quite the good guard dog after the whole Russian mall takeover last year.”

“Aaaaand that’s enough talking from you,” Steve says firmly, twisting out of your arms and putting his own around your waist. “Say goodbye to your new buddy, we’ve got a Robin to collect.”

As Steve steers you towards the direction of his car you wave at Eddie, a motion that he returns, his rings glinting in the porch light.

“Christ, you really are somethin’ else with some drinks in you,'' Steve fusses, helping you into the backseat, hand shooting up to block the door frame before your head can collide with the metal. “Did you seriously have to bring up the Russians?”

“He probably thought it was a joke, Steve,” you say, exasperated and fighting the twisted middle seatbelt with uncoordinated hands. “You know… those things that you tell people when you wanna get in their pants?”

The crack was aimed at Steve’s recent string of strike-outs in the dating department, but he throws it back at you. “You’re trying to get in Eddie Munson’s pants?”

“No,” you sputter, indignant and feeling suddenly too hot. 

Steve knocks your still-struggling hands from the belt, clicking you in himself, before pointing an accusatory finger in your face. “Stay here while I get Robin, and no throwing up in the Beemer.”

He shuts the door, Robin’s sweatshirt hanging from one shoulder while he stalks back into the house. 

You let your head fall back against the seat and close your eyes, bright cherry embers of cigarettes between lush-lipped curves dancing behind the dark of your lids. 

___

You manage to avoid throwing up in the BMW, saving the worst of it for the downstairs toilet of the Harrington house after Steve drags you and Robin indoors. Once your body is purged of the spirits, you collapse into your usual side of the guest bed, sweaty and exhausted, murmuring an apology to Robin who squeaks at the rocking movement of the mattress. In a few minutes, you’re lulled to sleep by the gentle snores of your best friend.

The morning sun is a very rude awakening, Robin apparently having forgotten to close the blinds before leaving with Steve for their shifts at Family Video. There’s a full glass of water on the bedside table and a few loose Tylenol tablets, the word “DRINK” sprawled on a sticky note in Steve’s handwriting.

You wince, down the meds along with half the water, and start the search for your sneakers.

When you’d signed up to protect a bunch of teens at the end of the world awhile back, it had seemed like a one-time gig. But now, here you were a few years later, loading yourself into your curb-parked junker to willingly cart around the same kids.

While wearing yesterday’s clothes. Even with the sprays of cologne that you’d stolen from Steve’s dresser, you’re pretty sure you’ll be fooling no one.

Evidenced by your first stop in east Hawkins for Dustin Henderson, who clambers into the front seat with a scathing appraisal. “Rough night?”

“You could say that,” you reply, shifting the gear to drive and grimacing at the subsequent squeal of metal that pierces into your left temple. “Learn from my mistakes as a washed-up twenty-something and cool it on the teen drinking, all right?”

“Washed up though you may be,” Dustin intones sagely, digging through his backpack and producing two brown-paper bundles, “you are now one Claudia Henderson Breakfast Sandwich Deluxe richer.”

You take the proffered sandwich gratefully, steering with one hand to peel back the oil-stained paper from the still-warm bread. “God. Is your mom looking to adopt?”

“She’s kind of got the perfect child already, but I’ll keep my ear to the ground for ya,” Dustin says around a mouthful of cheese and egg.

The solid breakfast helps your stomach ease back into a place of normality, but with your next stop adding two more kids to the mix, the rowdy bickering that follows puts that Tylenol to work.

“You’re an idiot,” Max is saying to Lucas over the sound of his indignation in the back seat. “You seriously think Indiana Jones would win against Supergirl? She can shapeshift, and she has heat vision.”

“All I’m saying is, it’s really hard to see a whip coming.” Lucas is stretching the limits of his seatbelt in his earnestness to get his girlfriend on his side.

It doesn’t work- Max rolls her eyes and taps at your shoulder. “Help me out here. His logic is totally shit, right?”

Making a turn onto the main road, you nod your assent without looking back. “I think you should listen to your very smart girlfriend, Lucas.”

Max makes a triumphant “hah”, and Dustin adds fuel to the argument’s fire when he drags in some other comic book character that you’ve never heard of. 

You hazard a glance in your rear-view mirror at Max, who’s too busy dishing out an enthusiastic rebuttal to notice. Her auburn braids swing with the movement of the car, and you wonder if they were done by her mother before work or if Max had to rely on her own hair expertise again. 

You’ve got a real soft spot for Max, always have. While you both have plenty of cause to bond over shitty home lives, it’s also Max’s brash and defiant attitude that drew you to her. She’s got the bravery you can only hope for, something that you are sure to tell her frequently, even though the compliment is hard for her to take.

You score a parking spot that’s right in front of the arcade, calling after the kids already scrambling out of your car that you want to leave at noon, sharp. They all give some form of distracted acknowledgement before disappearing into the building, so you figure the earliest you'll be getting out of here is noon-thirty. 

Not like you have much to do today, anyways, besides bother Steve and Robin at work- since the arcade is conveniently located right next to Family Video, it’s a perfect excuse to wait out the kids’ spring break activities in the company of your nearest and dearest.

You’re cutting a swift track up the sidewalk when you nearly collide with Eddie Munson, for the second time in less than 24 hours.

“Hey!” He beams at you, a wide, easy thing that fits on his face so well, like it was made to be there, boyish dimples digging in. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to smile back but probably landing somewhere in the grimace region as memories of last night float to the forefront of your mind. Small talk. You can do it. Say something. “Um. Were you getting a movie?”

“Nah.” Eddie shakes his head, hooks a thumb at the Family Video doors behind himself. “Keith’s one of my regulars. That guy might actually smoke more weed than me.”

You hum mildly to show you’re still paying attention but really you’re looking at Eddie’s hair, dark curls that shift with each of his movements. His hair isn’t black, like you’ve been led to believe this whole time- with the morning light shining through, highlighting the halo frizz around the edges, it’s actually a deep, chocolatey brown.

Similar to his eyes. Which are trained on you. Because you haven’t talked in a weird amount of time and are now just openly ogling his hair. 

Before you can open your mouth to apologize Eddie asks, “You wanna smoke?”

You nod, perhaps a tad too enthusiastically, and then stretch on your tiptoes to peer around Eddie’s frame at the Family Video sign. “Yeah, but we gotta be fast unless you want the Wonder Twins joining us.”

His grin slips into a smirk, and he winks before taking your hand in his. “A quickie, then.”

That fluttering thing in your ribs is back. The metal of Eddie’s rings are cool against your palm as he leads you around the side of the building, dropping your hand once you both are leaned up against the red brick.

Trying not to outright stare again, you watch from the fringes of your vision as Eddie lights up and breathes a cloud of smoke into the air. His nails are painted black- they weren’t last night. An image of him- hunched over a kitchen table, tongue sticking out of those pillowy lips in concentration, a nail polish brush held in his long fingers- flits across your mind.

Eddie holds the cigarette out, filter-side towards you, and you shake your head lightly. “No thanks. I don’t actually smoke, I just wanted to talk to you.”

Eddie glows. Before he gets the wrong idea you start explaining, arms crossing tight over your chest in unconscious defense- “I wanted to talk about last night. And say I’m sorry. I’m not usually so…”

“Badass? Charming? Hot?” Eddie fills in when you trail off, taking in another deep drag of smoke. 

Christ. You feel heat rushing from head to toe as you ward off his flattery, nails nipping into your upper arms. “I was gonna say… talkative? I guess? I’m normally not one to pick fights, but Lenny was being a dick and I don’t like the way he treats the kids, or you, for that matter, and I was drunk and mouthy but that’s not an excuse to drag you into it and I’m sorry-”

“Hey, hey.” Eddie’s tone is soothing, low, cutting smoothly into your feverish confession. He reaches out and strokes the back of his knuckle across your hand, tiny half-moons from your nails leaving their impression as you soften your grasp on yourself.

He doesn’t seem to mind that you can’t look anywhere but at your sneakers planted in the gravel as he says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart. I’m a big boy, I can handle myself when it comes to dickwads like Lenny Baker. And I would say that rescuing fair maidens is part of my job description, but…”

Eddie stubs the half-smoked cigarette out against the brick, flicks it to the ground, and waits until you look up at him again before saying “You don’t seem like you’re in need of any saving.”

That flutter, again, as you hold his eye contact for as long as you can stand it. 

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “There she is.”

Mortified, you resist the urge to scream into your hands as you push off from the brick, instead squeezing them into fists at your sides. “Oh-kay. Well. I better head inside or Robin will send out the search party for me.”

Eddie lets you walk past him, but just before you turn the corner he says, “I’m across from the Mayfields in Forest Hills if you ever want some company. Or some good weed.”

Footfalls from his thick-heeled boots recede into the distance, and you take a minute to calm your breathing before pushing your way through the doors of Family Video.

Steve’s stocking a shelf of New Releases at the front of the store, vest-clad torso faced away as the bell above the door signals your entrance. On autopilot he monologues, “Welcome to Family Video, let us know how we can be of service.”

“Aw, I miss the days when you were forced to say Ahoy, mateys!” You tease, Steve turning to give you an irritated frown as you prop your hip against the register counter.

Robin clacks away on the computer, hitting the Enter key a little harder than necessary as she says, “You’re about one mall fire and a bajillion NDA’s too late to ever hear that shit again.”

Keith must be lurking around in the back office, ‘cuz the three of you only refer to last year’s cataclysmic series of events as a “mall fire” when you’re talking in code. 

Or if you’re trying to be funny. But based on the dark circles under Robin’s eyes and the harried way Steve’s shoving a hand through his hair as he drifts towards the counter, you surmise that the three of you are very much on the same page this morning with regards to humor and hijinks.

“I didn’t know it was possible to be this hungover,” Robin groans, sinking her hand into a torn-open Skittles bag and popping a handful into her mouth. “Sugar is supposed to help, right?”

You snort, fiddling with a stack of paper brochures as Steve leans against the counter. 

“Had any more run-ins with the town riffraff?” He asks, feigning casual, honey-colored eyes roaming around the shop.

“I’m visiting you, aren’t I?” You shoot back, unreasonably defensive. 

“Another point for the pretty lady, and Harrington strikes a zero,” Robin totals in her best sports broadcasting voice. “What the hell are you talking about, Steve?”

“Drinky McGee over here was spilling her guts last night to none other than Edward Munson,” Steve replies, looking satisfied when Robin’s eyes bug dramatically.

“Eddie?” Robin hops off the stool, sliding her hands from the other side of the counter to stop your own from ripping the brochures to shreds. “And what, pray tell, were you spilling about with Eddie Muson?”

“Nothing.” You pull your hands from Robin’s, rolling your eyes as if the stakes are low, when in fact the stakes are as tall as the Empire State Building. You can practically hear the wind whistling from this height. “I wasn’t… we barely talked. He was backing me up when some jock started messing with me. That’s all.”

Robin whirls on Steve with animosity- “You left her alone long enough for some meathead to get involved? Jesus, Steve, the hell is wrong with you?”

“Like you shacking up with Vickie after two Tears for Fears tracks is any more responsible!” Steve snaps.

Having spent enough time with both your friends to know their propensity towards petty arguments, you slap a hand against the counter to derail. “Hey! Both of you knock it off. It’s fine, I’m fine, we survived yet another night out on the town unscathed. Let’s just… drop it.”

Steve looks properly chastised, but Robin gets a glint in her eye that confirms she’s not thrown off the scent so easily. 

“You know what they call him, right?” she asks you, lowering her raspy voice even further.

“Eddie The Freak Munson,” Steve supplies, but shrinks noticeably when Robin gives him a withering look. “...not that, then?”

“Of course you, Steve The Hair Harrington, would only know him by that name.” Robin shakes her head, disapproving, before turning back to you with a wicked grin. “Word on the street holds Eddie The Munch Munson in very high regard.”

Steve scoffs at this, but you blink, uncomprehending.  “Munch, like… he eats a lot of food?”

You feel very suddenly and violently ganged up on when Steve and Robin give you mirrored quizzical looks.

“No, babe,” Robin says, slowly. “Munch as in he eats pussy.”

“Jesus christ.” Heat courses through you as you scan the empty store, even as Steve chuckles and says, “You really are a prude.”

A skittle sails airborne into the side of his temple and he flinches, Robin coming to your aid. “That’s no way to talk to a lady, Steven.”

“I’m so not a prude.” You’re quick to jump to your own defense. “I just… didn’t know what that meant.”

You’d had a boyfriend for 6 months your sophomore year of high school, Ben- nice enough guy, but you’d mostly dated as an excuse to get all your firsts out of the way. Some laid-back hookups have occurred since then- it’s not like you’ve been chaste all these years, for fuck’s sake.

But you certainly wouldn’t give any of those boys a prize-winning nickname for their ability to eat you out. 

“It’s all baseless gossip, right?” Steve grabs a nearby wheeled cart and pushes it to the New Releases, resuming his shelf stocking. “I mean, what the hell else are small-townies good for other than trading lies like baseball cards.”

“I dunno,” Robin says, thoughtfully, sucking at her front teeth. “If the token lesbian is hearing about it, then he’s gotta be some sort of sex god.”

Steve’s making a snarky comeback, but you can’t hear him over the whistling in your ears.

You stare blankly out at the parking lot, one hand absently crunching at a brochure, trying really hard to think of anything but those plush lips and all the places you want them. 

____

Ever since the events of last year ripped a hole in your found family’s world, you make it a weekly habit to visit Max.

You’re always armed with some excuse- made too much pasta, please take it off my hands and put this tupperware in your fridge; I was on my way to the thrift store and thought I’d stop by, wanna come with and help me pick out some new jeans?- so that it’s harder for Max to deny your company. Slowly, over the last handful of months, by way of secondhand book offerings and slices of leftover pizza, Max has let her guard down enough to let you in. 

Even on days like today, when her demeanor suggests active disdain (calling you “mom” with a caustic bite when you ask after her last meal, rolling her eyes when she finds you doing the leftover sink dishes), you don’t take it personal. Her coldness towards little acts of kindness is due to the shitty way other people have failed her. And plus, you’ve put in enough effort to be able to see the warm side of Max Mayfield.

Like now, for instance- she’s giving you a bone-crushing hug on your way out, freshly-braided hair pressed tight to your sternum as you hug her back and sway in the doorway. The hug is quick and fierce, over in seconds as she slips back into practiced indifference

“Stay out of trouble this week and I’ll buy you a pony,” you joke as she pulls away, and the smile that she cracks makes it all worth it. 

“Make it a racehorse and you’ve got yourself a deal,” she says, giving you a small wave before closing her front door.

You walk down the dirt path to your parked car, keys in hand. Tonight’s schedule is that of a responsible, sensible young adult- the classified ads on your desk at home need trawling through, and a laundry pile the size of Hoosier Hill waits expectantly on your floor.

But there’s this crawling under your skin, a feeling that tends to flare up every so often, a craving for some sort of release gnawing at the edges. Usually the cure is sad music and masturbation, or some of Steve’s parents’ wine and a cheesy romcom. 

Or weed. That tends to work, too.

You’re shoving your keys into the pocket of your denim jacket and walking across the way to Eddie’s trailer before you lose your nerve, scuffing your sneakers against his porch while you knock.

He looks surprised to see you, dark brows raised, leaning into the palm he’s got on the doorframe- “Oh shit. Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply, tracking one foot up the back of your calf, feeling timid under his gaze. “Do you… can I buy some weed?”

When he nods, you duck under his arm and drop to one knee on the carpeted floor to untie your laces.

“Shit, sweetheart, don’t go to all that trouble.” He lets the door close, enveloping you both in the moody lighting of his trailer. There’s a radio playing the local rock station dimly from one of the bedrooms, and as you toe off your shoes you notice a gleaming black guitar leaned upright against the couch.

“Do you play?” You drift over on sock feet to gently brush across the strings, a faint and discordant noise rising and fading underneath your fingertips.

“Yeah.” Eddie’s voice comes from just over your shoulder as he watches your gentle fingers on his prized possession. “I’m in a band, actually. You should come see us play sometime.”

“That’s cool,” you say earnestly. “I remember when you got in trouble for that talent show performance- your band was totally swindled out of first place, if you ask me.”

When he doesn’t respond right away, you hazard a look at him over your shoulder and find him staring at you again, something you’re still not used to, giggling out a little “What?” as his eyes stay on your face.

“You’re pretty, that’s all.” The Dio logo on the front of his tee ripples when he shrugs a shoulder. As if he knew it would embarrass you, he leaves no room for your disagreement, turning away into the kitchen, stretching tall for the metal lunchbox on the top of his fridge.

His shirt lifts with the stretch, a flash of stomach lined with a trail of dark hair that makes you swallow back the gathering saliva in your mouth. 

“So, weed,” he’s saying as he pops the lid on the box, shaking out a small bag of fuzzy-looking green clumps. “I can set you up with a couple of days’ worth, if you want.”

“That sounds good,” you reply, mustering courage to drift to Eddie’s side, pretending to assess the baggie he’s holding, committing to memory the way his long fingers deftly pluck apart bud from stem. “That way I can come back and buy more.”

His fingers pause, halfway to the metal grinder nestled in the lunchbox as he says, “You know, you don’t need to use weed as an excuse to come see me. I think we’ve already established I like lookin’ at ya, so you’d be doing me a favor if you came by more. Just to hang out.”

This offer sits between you as he grinds the weed down, then tips a stripe of it neatly across some rolling paper. His dexterous fingers pinch and tuck until a joint takes shape, a small strip of the paper poking out.

He holds it to your lips, brown eyes shimmering with warmth as he waits. 

A Stevie Nicks song starts up on the radio, muffled by the trailer walls but crooning through all the same. This close to Eddie for the first time, you can smell him- balmy and spicy, like bergamot and Irish Spring. 

You lean into the joint, licking across the paper in one unbroken motion. Your tongue catches on Eddie’s thumb when you pull away, and there’s a salt-warm taste that settles in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he says, in that low-toned voice, and you have to fight to keep your thighs from pressing together in your jeans.

“Wanna smoke here?” Eddie smooths the spit-damp end of the joint down, giving the end a twist. “Good way to test out the merchandise. First one’s free.”

You shake your head as he extends the joint- “I’m definitely paying you, Eddie. And no, I can’t smoke here.” With you being the unspoken addition to that sentence. 

“Aw, shucks, sweetheart,” he drawls, devilish grin creeping back in, “You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust,” you admit, before you can stop yourself.

His brows shoot up again, then waggle, obscenely. “Afraid I’m gonna be too tempting to resist once you’re in the clutches of the Green Dragon?”

Something like that, you think, wryly, but that fluttering is back and you really want to shut it up, so against your sensible, better judgment, you take the joint from Eddie’s hand.

“Got a light?”

You haven’t smoked in over a month, and with your tolerance so low two hits is all it takes to get you sprawled out on the living room floor, arms akimbo like you’re making a carpet snow angel.

Eddie’s a bit more restless in his high, plucking melodious and listless tunes from the couch with his guitar, one foot propped on the coffee table near your head.

Feeling loose-limbed and confident, you stare unabashed up at Eddie. He’d put his hair into a low bun, earlier, and there are a few dark tendrils swinging free around his neck with the rocking movements of his body to the music. 

He hits a snag, string buzzing out a dissonant noise. “Can’t focus with you lookin’ at me.”

“Sorry,” you murmur, except you’re not at all. “Now you know how I feel all the time.”

He sticks his tongue out at you, your girlish tittering in answer; you pat the carpet beside your hip. “Come lay with me.”

His body responds easily to your request; Eddie props the guitar back up against the couch and stretches out next to you with a sigh, a wave of that smokey sweet smell coming with him.

Under your weed-filtered view, the popcorn ceiling above you is moving, whorling and undulating in the muted light. You’re feeling gutsy and sure of yourself as you ask aloud, “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

Your head turns so you can meet Eddie’s eyes, which are dancing across your face- cheek to lips to nose back up to eyes- and he doesn’t make a joke, this time, his words coming with weighty seriousness.

“Yeah, I do. I think you’re beautiful. Always have.”

“Always?” Your echo is a soft and seeking thing.

“Yeah, always,” he confirms, simply, as if it’s a fact of life. “Woulda made a move sooner, but you always seemed so…”

“Unapproachable? Aloof? Bitchy?” You fill the gap in his speech with adjectives that have been used to characterize you in the past- usually by boys in the heat of an argument over inconsequential things that have been lost to time, only the labels sticking around. 

Eddie gives you a reproachful look. “No. I was gonna say, you seemed like you were always in your own world.”

This throws you for a loop. Neck on a swivel, you look back up at the ceiling as Eddie continues.

“I wanted to get to know you more, but I’ll be the first to admit I was intimidated by you. I mean, you’re way out of my league-” Eddie ignores the sardonic snort you give to this- “-and I just assumed asking you out would've ended with an epic crash and burn.”

The ceiling stops swaying, and you swivel back to hold Eddie’s eyes again, the weed making honesty easy. “I always kinda thought you were beautiful, too.”

Awash with the bravery that only comes from being in an altered state, you keep the momentum that’s aided by Eddie’s soft smile and push up on your elbows. 

“I know what they call you.”

Eddie blinks up at you, then slowly, slowly, pushes himself up onto his elbows too. “Yeah?”

It’s a taunt, a dare, an I bet you won’t.

Shows how much he knows. When you’re drunk or stoned, he’d be hard pressed to find a bet you can’t win.

You say it, unwavering. “Eddie The Munch Munson.”

His lips fall open, leaning in towards you as if drawn by a magnet, and you think he’s gonna kiss you until he falls back against the carpet, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Shit. Fuck. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” You’re a little taken aback, ‘cuz while it’s not an outright rejection, Eddie’s upping the drama, hands pressed into the sockets of his eyes, groaning as he tips into your side.

With his forehead pressed into the curve of your shoulder, he says softly, “I think we’re both a little too stoned to be thinking clearly. And I really, really want you to think clearly when it comes to this.”

“Comes to what?” You’re egging him on now, trailing your fingers up his bicep, coy and angelic. 

He rolls away from you, making a pained noise with his face smushed into the carpet before pushing himself off the ground. “You know what, princess. New topic, for the love of god. You hungry?”

You are, actually, and when he extends his hand to help you up, you take it.

Eddie whips up a box of mac and cheese while you sit on a counter nearby, conversation engaging and fluid as he cooks.

Between interjections of ‘scuse me, angel, gotta get into this cabinet and can you take over stirring for a sec? you answer all his questions. You tell him your favorite bands, the states you’d visited on a road trip when you were six, even giving him the whole “my mom’s a nice enough person but we don’t get along” spiel that you don’t usually get to until a third date.

If that’s even what this is. He’s scooping steaming noodles into two bowls, passing you one, leaning up against the counter closest to the one you’re sat on. Your knee rubs against his ribcage as you eat.

In between chews, he lets you ask about himself- his favorite bands, the states he’s never been but wants to travel to someday, the highlights of his golden years with his mom that he misses every day.

There’s a quiet lull, after your bowls are scraped clean and set aside. He helps you off the counter and tells you to pick out a movie; you load The Black Cauldron into the VCR and settle into the couch cushion.

Eddie puts an arm around you, lets you play with his hands for the bulk of the film, running your nails methodically across his palms. 

By the last act of the movie, you can feel your high beginning to fade, taking your courage with it; when the credits roll, you’re ready to call it quits and sleep off the hangover in your own bed.

“You sure you’re okay to drive?” Eddie asks, following after you as you tug your sneakers back on in the hall.

“Yeah, Eddie, I’ll be good. Thanks for the weed,” you say, pulling your jacket tight around your frame. “And for the- for everything.”

The smile appears again; the one that cuts deep dimples into his cheeks as he watches you step onto his porch.

When he says your name, you turn, keys in hand- “Yeah?”

Leaning into the doorframe like he had earlier, he cants his head, streetlight a warm glow across his cheeks. “You wanna know where I got my nickname, you come back in a few days. Sleep on it tonight.” And then he closes the door.

___

So, technically, he told you to come back in a few days, and showing up less than 24 hours later has to hint at being some sort of desperate. 

Which, fuck it, you kinda are, at this point. Frankly it’s a miracle you’ve lasted this long what with the whole being plagued with visions of Eddie Munson’s hands and lips and hair and that stupid fucking nickname every waking and dreaming hour you’ve spent apart. 

While you can appreciate the honorable nature of Eddie asking you to make a clear-headed decision, you’re wishing for a hundred things to take the edge off as you change out of the PJ’s you’ve been moping in all day.

Black tights stretch over your calves as you think of the whiskey you mom keeps hidden in the downstairs cabinet; denim miniskirt smoothed over your hips as you long for a deep hit of weed; hands shakily plucking your black tanktop into place as the urge to be anything but sober gets swallowed down. 

You make the ten minute drive to Forest Hills in silence (relative to the weird engine noises your hunk of metal car decides to make), wracking your brain for silver-tongued excuses but instead drawing blank after blank.

By the time you’re rolling to a stop in front of Eddie’s trailer, you still have no idea what you’re gonna say to him- only that something needs to be said. Max is at the Sinclair’s for the night, one less person to worry about witnessing you slamming your car door shut and walking right up to Eddie on his front steps.

He’s wearing a pair of overalls, grease-stained, shirtless underneath- the tail end of a larger ink piece peeking out against his ribs. There’s a lone bike tire on the ground, held steady by the spokes his boot rests on as he wrenches the middle hub, biceps rippling and flexing with each movement. 

Certainly a sight that would have stopped you in your tracks, on any other day. But you’re determined to have it out with the returning wingbeat behind your navel, planting your Converse in the gravel just before the first step that Eddie’s sat on.

He doesn’t seem surprised to see you this time, instead giving you a lazy smile on a half-tilt, wiping the tire oil from his hands onto the front of his overalls.

“What brings a fair maiden such as yourself to this ugly neck of the woods?” Eddie leans the tire up against the steps and rises to greet you.

You’re gonna lose what little nerve you have left if he touches you so you act quick, speaking as you cross your arms- “I need to tell you a few things.”

That stops him up short, just a few feet away as he inclines his head, hair loose around his bare shoulders. “I’m nothin’ but ears.”

A wet, rattling breath catches in your chest. You give a cursory scan around to confirm that the rest of the trailer park citizens are indoors, soft lights from rows of windows luminous against the darkening twilight sky.

“I have a… a thing,” you start, unsure of where to begin, really wishing you’d come up with a polished script on the ride over instead of being forced to flounder through for the right dialogue. “It started last year. With the mall fire?” 

When Eddie nods his understanding, you continue, in short starts and bursts, like you’re fighting with the words before they come out.

“Something… happened. To Robin, and Steve, and to- to me. It was really bad, for awhile, and then it got better, but I’m still…” your hands squeeze tight into the flesh of your upper arms, nails stinging. “I’m fucked up from it. And the only way I can talk about it is if I’m fucked up, too. S’why I can only hold a conversation when I’m drunk or flirt while I’m high, like there’s this bad thing inside of me that I can’t look at when I’m sober-”

There’s a frantic edge that’s slipped in to your voice and Eddie steps towards you, as if to soothe, but you’re not ready to give in yet so you take a step back, choking out the last few words- “I just- I wish I could tell you everything, but I can’t, not yet, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

From somewhere in the forest behind, a bright chorus of crickets swells as you fix your focus on the ground, as Eddie’s boots crunch forward on the gravel, toe-to-toe with your sneakers.

He moves carefully, as if worried that you’ll spook- lightly brushing his fingers across yours, drawing your awareness to the fact that your nails are dangerously close to drawing blood, a sigh as you release.

“Thank you for telling me.” Unlike your own voice, his is low and sure as his thumbs brush against the red half-moons in your arms. “You’re really brave, you know that?”

He doesn’t leave room for you to dispute this, instead tracing the underside of your jaw with his knuckle, forcing you to hold his gaze, those deep brown eyes soft with empathy as he says, “I don’t have any expectations of you, ‘kay? I’ll be all ears when you need me to be, but you don’t have to spill all your secrets every time you come around. You wanna just watch shitty cartoons and keep my couch warm, that’s fine by me. Nothin’ else needs to happen.”

And it’s his acknowledgement of your admission, his softhearted way of letting you know that nothing needs to happen, that makes you brave.

Brave enough to tilt your chin into the lift of his finger as you say, “I didn’t just come here to apologize.”

You watch his Adam’s apple bob against the taut vein in his neck as he swallows, hard. 

“Yeah?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath and turns on his heel, motioning you to follow him up the stairs. 

Your eagerness is obvious as you scramble up the steps after him, heart starting to thrum in tandem with the flutters as he shuts his front door behind the both of you.

“Take your shoes off,” is all he says, in a low, strained voice, before turning into the kitchen.

Obedient, you drop to one knee and jerk apart your sneaker laces with trembling hands. 

Now on nyloned feet, you step onto the linoleum tile of Eddie’s kitchen. He’s faced away from you at the sink, taut lines of his shoulders rising and falling as he washes his hands.

“You’re sober?” He asks, still at the sink, drying his hands on a patterned teatowel. 

When you realize he can’t see your nod, you speak- “Yes. Yeah. As a judge.”

A soft exhale through his nose, amused, as he finally turns to face you. Eddie’s eyes do that hypnotizing dance- skipping from your chin to your eyes to your lips back up again- and you let him, feeling exposed to the point of nakedness with the intensity of his focus.

“I want to hear you say it.”

The sentence winds through the air, joins the wings in your stomach, sits low in your belly as you shift your weight from side to side, a gentle rock to ease your flayed-alive nerves. 

You say it. “I want your mouth.”

Eddie takes a step closer, nearly toe-to-toe with you again. Over the familiar layer of bergamot and fresh hand soap he smells like the outdoors, and faintly of mechanic oil, hearty and wild.

“Where?” It’s a single word, but with so much weight- suggestive, a taunt, an offer.

You breathe him in, eyes fluttering closed, ‘cuz brave as you’ve been it’s still hard to say some things while looking at him. “Want your mouth… on me.”

He crowds into your space, one hand gliding smoothly to set against your waist, the other fitted against your neck, tapping a thumb to your lips.

You part them, passive and wanting, but he doesn’t press his finger to the pad of your tongue like you’d hoped. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke to the corner of your mouth to make room for his own. 

“Where?” he asks again, this time into your mouth. You can feel the tip of his nose graze yours, pinpricks of his hair tickling your cheeks. 

“Please,” is all you manage this time, awash with heat when you feel his smile form. 

“S’okay, sweetheart. I’ll work you up to it.” It’s a touch condescending, skirting that fine line between tease and mean, the same tone of voice that has your thighs pressing together.

And then, he gives you what you asked for. His plush lips- the ones that you’ve been fantasizing about for what feels like eons- are pressing against yours.

It’s a kiss that starts chaste, tender, but soon devolves into a heady, fevered thing when you push your tongue past the seam of his lips. He melts into you, using the hand he has on your face to keep you steady as he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth into the plush of it before going back to twining his tongue with yours. 

There’s an audible wet click as he pulls away, both of your chests heaving in the quiet that follows; Eddie rests his forehead against yours briefly to catch his breath, and then he’s tugging you down the hall and into his room.

It’s pleasantly messy and lived-in, posters and photographs taking up most of the walls, guitar cables snaking and criss-crossing atop his dresser. You take a seat on the bed, hands tightening into the flannel duvet while Eddie begins to undo the buttons of his overall straps.

Wholly fascinated, you watch as he pushes the thick material from his body and kicks it to the side, leaving him in just his guitar pick necklace and a simple pair of black boxers. Now on full display, you drink in the sight of the most skin you’ve ever seen of his- tattoos at his chest and arms dark against the rest of him, pale and gleaming softly in the yellow light of the bedside lamp. 

You’re trying to figure out if the larger piece on his ribs is a dragon or some other mythological creature when he moves in to sit next to you, his kisses erasing all thoughts.

Eddie’s making these throaty little noises as you kiss; his hands track lines from your hips to your sides to your shoulders, your chest unconsciously pressing into his touch. 

When his thumb catches on the outline of your beaded nipple through your shirt, he hisses lightly, drawing back to look at you again- “Is this okay?”

You nod, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with that, tsking as he swipes with his thumb again, watching closely as you react silently to the touch.

“Hard to tell when you’re enjoying yourself if you’re quiet as a churchmouse,” Eddie says, in a tone that’s reminiscent of training a pet. “You gonna let me hear you?”

Your teeth catch on your lower lip as he thumbs across your nipple again, shockwaves coursing into goosebumps as you choke out, “I’m not s-so good at that. Not without- fuck- weed..”

Eddie huffs a laugh, a little derisive but you figure he’s probably got the right, seeing as how you’re this worked up and he’s barely touched you.

“You’re plenty good at this sober, sweetheart. Want me to prove it?”

His hand falls from your breast, extricates one of yours from the covers, and slides it up the meat of his thigh- then to the front of his boxers.

The first noise you make for him is a small gasp, one that matches his own as you cup your palm over the thick jut of his hard cock.

“Told you,” he says, sounding strung-out, his hand still closed around your wrist, “You’re doin’ just fine at working me up.”

You wrap your fingers around the bulge as best you can with the fabric of his boxers separating skin from skin, gaining confidence to explore as his grip on your wrist loosens. The black ink at his ribs expands and shrinks with the bellows of his breath, jolting and stuttering with each stroke of your hand.

Just as he’s drawing in a breath to speak, tightening his hold around your wrist in warning, you still your movements. Delicately, slowly, you slide out of his grasp and take his wrist in your hand, placing his palm on your own thigh.

The whole “reciprocating pleasure with sound” is still a hard one to give in to; maybe you can compensate for your hesitancy by showing instead of telling. You guide his hand up, into your skirt, parting your thighs until his fingers find the wetness soaking through both your panties and tights. 

“Fucking… jesus.” Eddie moves with the fluid surety that you lack, middle finger running up the seam of your clothed pussy, your hips jerking reflexively when he catches against your clit. “This all for me, princess?”

In answer, you lean to bury your face into the crook of Eddie’s neck. He lets you, taking the opportunity to hook your leg over his thigh, spreading you out as much as your fitted denim skirt will allow.

You pant into the column of his throat as he strokes you through the light layers, the fabrics grinding friction into your clit caught under his fingertip. He rests his chin on the crown of your head, cooing praises that have your stomach muscles tensing.

“That’s it, good girl, such a good girl for me.”

Your clit is throbbing now as he rubs you in small, quick circles, and you’re so close to falling over the edge that you have to pull his hand away.

Eddie picks up on your unspoken plea; he tugs the skirt down your hips then tosses it blindly over his shoulder, reaching for the edge of your tights. He slips them down your thighs, your calves, peeling them off you with reverence. When all that’s left is your best pair of satin panties, he maneuvers you up against the headboard and stretches himself flat on his stomach, nose pressing into your core.

That heat has come back, flashing through you with a vengeance as Eddie mouths at your pussy through the satin, sloppily but with purpose enough to have your cunt clenching around nothing.

You stay up on your elbows, watching that mane of dark hair bracketed by your thighs, but when Eddie pulls your underwear down and off your ankle your weight falls back against the mattress.

The flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe from your weeping hole up to spread the wetness around your clit. When he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your head presses back into the covers, hands grappling above you for something to anchor your grasp.

When Eddie flicks the point of his tongue against that bright spot of nerves your hands find a pillow to grip, and when he moans into your pussy the vibrations have you instinctively pulling the pillow against your face, teeth biting into the fluff, masking the whine that would have been loud in the otherwise quiet room.

You think you might be able to get away with this setup (what with Eddie seemingly focused on making you explode into a million little pieces) but there’s a sharp smack before the outer skin of your thigh is burning, white-hot from the kiss of his rings.

Eddie’s mouth leaves you only for the time it takes for him to rip the pillow from your grasp and scold, “Uh uh, none of that, c’mon,” and then he’s back at your clit, suckling with renewed vengeance.

There are little stars bursting at the edges of your vision, your hands shooting down to grip at Eddie’s hair when he pistons the point of his tongue against you again. Your hips are subtly bucking into his mouth, shaking thighs involuntarily closing around his ears. Normally you’d be concerned about Eddie’s air intake but going off the moans he’s burying in your pussy, you’d hazard a guess that he’s really into it.

As if in confirmation, he pulls off your clit with a wet pop, laving his tongue up the junction where thigh meets pelvis, voice sounding wrecked- “Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Fuck, you got me so hard. Gonna blow a load in my boxers like a teenager, y’taste so good. Gonna let me hear you? Hm? Wanna hear you.”

You’re dizzy with want as you prop yourself on your elbows again, mouth falling open as Eddie sinks two of his fingers up to the ringed knuckle inside your velvet walls.

His other hand comes to rest on the soft curve of your stomach, pinning you in place, before he looks up at you, black pupils nearly eclipsing the chocolate brown. 

“What do you want?” he asks again, patiently, as if he doesn’t have two fingers nestled inside your cunt.

Your efforts to grind into him are stopped with his firm hold on your middle, and he tuts at you again- but instead of a reprimand, he seems to soften a bit.

“C’mon, angel,” Eddie says, with such tenderness that makes tears prick at the corner of your eyes. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh before encouraging, “Lemme hear you say it, and I’ll make it so good for you. Promise.”

“Want you to make me come. Please.” Your voice is unsteady, but it’s audible enough.

Eddie rewards you by sinking his fingers further, to the hilt, heel of his palm catching against your clit. When you let out a warbling moan, he nods- “That’s it,”- before setting a steady rhythm for fucking his fingers up into you. 

“Fuck, Eddie- fu-uck…” you’re trying, really trying to stay in the moment and not get caught up in the noises you’re making- for him. 

When Eddie reattaches his mouth to your throbbing clit and angles his fingers to hit into that soft, spongy spot with each thrust, you feel waves of pleasure start to wash through you. There’s just time for a choked “Shit, Eddie, you’re gonna make me cum,” before you’re spasming around his fingers.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your elbows, bracing your body through the convulsive shocks, white-hot stars joining the wingbeat rhythm as Eddie takes you apart with his mouth and fingers.

He moans, long and low, fucking you through it and then some- your orgasm has been completely wrung out when you push at his forehead, whimpering at the overstimulation. 

“No, baby, one more, please. Gimme one more,” Eddie lifts his head to plead with you, sweaty bangs glued to his forehead- and then he’s back between your legs.

It’s this moment that makes you retrospective. Sex with boys, in the past, has always been a quick means to an end: a few minutes of foreplay, tamping down your own pleasure for the sake of blowing off some steam. 

But now, pleasure was being given to you in spades by Eddie Munson, and you wanted to give it back to him.

You come on his tongue and fingers, again, stomach tightening beneath his warm palm, and this time you really loose the sounds caught in your chest: a strangled mix of your bliss-soaked whines with his name, Eddie Eddie Eddie. 

You feel the bed frame jolt below you both as Eddie’s hips thrust into the mattress in a frenzied tempo.

“Fuck me.” He pulls away, finally, panting into the side of your knee. He rests his head against your leg, lips tinged pink and shining wet, gazing at you with lust-blown eyes. “You are so fucking hot. Holy shit.”

Bashful as your peak wears off, you pull him forward so you don’t have to look at him when you whisper, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess,” he says, slumping against your chest and into your arms. “That’s going straight to my long-term spank bank. Number one. For sure.”

You slap playfully at his shoulder, and he rises on his elbows to kiss you- once on the lips, twice on the cheek- warm palms on the outside of your shoulders. 

“Are you… d’you need any help?” you ask, reaching to tuck his hair behind his ears, feeling the crush of insecurity leech in. “I dunno if you even- I mean, did you…”

From all the physical activity, your breasts are half-spilled out of your bra, and Eddie bends to kiss at the tops of them, affectionately, shaking his head as he goes. “There is no world in which I would’ve lasted, just now. Very noble of you to assume, though.”

He grins at your giggle, then says- “I dunno about you, but I need some new underwear. Wanna borrow a pair of my boxers? Bet you’d look cute.”

________

Later, when you’re both cleaned up, dressed, and full from a pizza delivery, Eddie invites you outside for a smoke.

You sit with him on the porch couch, legs slung over his, a big flannel blanket shared over both your laps while he smokes with the hand that isn’t on your thigh. 

There’s a crunching of wheels on gravel, and Max Mayfield’s bike lamp cuts through the dark.

“Hey, Heavy Metal,” she calls out, undoing her bike helmet and leaning her bike into its kickstand. “Are you done fixing up Lucas’s tires or do I have to keep hauling my ass all the way across town to see him?”

“I’ll have it done tomorrow, Red,” Eddie calls back, giving her a salute.

Halfway to her door, she remarks, “You two are gross, by the way,” 

You cross your arms in the sweatshirt Eddie loaned you, slipping into irksome older sister mode easily. “So how’d it go with your boyfriend, tonight, Maxine?”

She flips you both off, but you catch the smile on her face before the front door bangs shut behind her.

Eddie chuckles, smoothing his palm up your thigh, then takes another drag. “You gotta come night smoke with me more often, angel. The streetlights suit you.”

“Gonna get me hooked on nicotine, too?” Your sock foot pokes him in the ribs and he tuts, snapping it up in his free hand and digging his thumb into the arch of your sole.

“Fuck no, your teeth are too pretty to ruin. Want you to come keep me company while I destroy my lungs.”

Another cloud of smoke lifts dreamily around Eddie’s face. His thumb is working wonders on the tense muscle of your foot as you tip your head to rest on the back of the couch. With the nearby streetlamp, his profile is cast in a warm glow; you do a dance of your own, eyes taking in the strong slope of his nose, tracking down to his lips, back up to the wild curls at his temple.

Eddie feels you staring, turns to fix you with a quit it look that you can’t help but laugh at- “What, so you’re the only one who’s allowed to stare?”

“That’s right,” he confirms, leaning forward to set his cig in an ashtray, bullying his way into your space, rings cold under your chin when he tilts your face towards his- “Gotta pay the piper for that obvious violation, sweetheart. Sorry. I don’t make the rules.”

This time, when the flutter within you kicks up, you have a place for it to go- melting softly into Eddie’s lips. 

___________________

I wrote the last third of this while blasted please don’t judge too harshly lmao

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reader recives Buckys nudes accidentally

Authors note: The one MCU man I'd be with (Well, and Nomad Steve)

Word count: 710

Marvel Masterlist How They React To Masterlist

   Bucky couldn't help but be a bit proud of himself. He'd just returned from a hanging out with Sam, and the man had helped him finally figure out how to take a selfie. So now, even though it had taken a while and some help, he was able to take a decent picture of himself that he actually liked. And having been successful with technology once tonight, he decides that he's going to push his luck at furthering this understanding and enjoyment of it, by attempting to figure out how to send it to you.

   You're always so kind to him, have been since day one really, and you're always excited when he takes steps towards getting caught up by learning new things. He's very appreciative of it, and you. It makes him feel good and like his accomplishments, no matter how small, do matter. 

  However, that earlier feeling of accomplishment he had quickly goes away when he reviews the outgoing message that had just sent. Now all he feels is dread and embarrassment, because he had sent you the entirely wrong picture. Instead of getting his smirking face, you’ll be getting an admittedly blurry picture of his boxer clad legs with his hardened dick poking out the fly as his flesh hand wraps around it.

   “That…that is not the one I sent. I didn't…oh fuck”

   What's he supposed to do here? What's he supposed to say? He certainly didn’t want you to feel disrespected by this mistake, he wasn’t some asshole that wanted to boost his ego by gaining attention over his dick. But he certainly felt like he would come off that way. Even if he explained himself, he feared you would think he wasn't being truthful. 

   His scowl deepens and he flexes his vibranium fingers out of nervousness as he contemplates the situation. Maybe Steve was right, maybe he should have just gotten a flip phone. Surely then he wouldn't be in this predicament. But no, he had to listen to Sam and Tony and get a ‘smart phone’. What was so damn smart about it if it couldn’t even send the right picture?

   Over in the gym, you had just finished your workout and were standing by your locker to gather your change of clothes so you could shower when your phone buzzed on the bench. You finish wiping off your forehead with the towel before picking up your phone to see what was up. You smile when you see the notification from Bucky, as it always warmed your heart to see the man getting to rediscover life and the new aspects of it, and unlock your screen to see what he’d sent.

   Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see the picture and you quickly exit your messages to glance around and make sure no one else is close enough to see what you'd been sent. Satisfied with everyone's distance you re open the picture, and despite its blurriness you can tell the man is very well endowed.  And though you really do like what you see, there is no doubt in your mind that you were not meant to receive this. Bucky never even caught on to your subtle flirting, so there was no way he’d be bold enough for this.

   This wasn’t meant for me, was it?

   He stares at the text for an unknown amount of time, it felt like a trap. If he said yes, but you hadn’t liked it or him, it would ruin your friendship. But if he said no, and you were interested in him, he’d be blowing his shot with you. 

   Bucky?

   He falls back against his mattress with a sigh, he might as well be truthful, This wasn’t what I meant to send, no. But I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t thinking about you when I took it.

   Your face heats up and butterflies erupt in your belly, Well, I just happen to have some free time. Maybe you can elaborate on what other feelings you have when you think of me

   Only if you promise me that Sam never hears about how bad I screwed up or how mushy I can be

 You chuckle, I wouldn’t tell a soul

[neverevan]

I know we all love the idea of Eddie keep flirting with Steve and calling him pet names, because he thinks he can get away with it.

But I've been thinking about Steve casually calling Eddie baby without even registering what he's doing.

Like they are standing outside the van with the hood open and Steve just tutting at him like "Eddie, baby, you really gotta get your transmission checked, this is like the third time this month" and Eddie's losing his shit, mouth hanging open in shock, but Steve has no idea and it just keeps on happening after that.

Next time it happens, they are all over at Steve's, having a movie night and Steve has El and Max passed out on him, making him unable to get up from the couch without waking them and he just whisper-yells to Eddie "Hey babe, could you pass me a beer? Kinda tied up here" and Eddie just blanks and says nothing, but gets a bottle from the sixpack on the floor and Steve says "thanks" like it's just how things have always been between them.

And Eddie's working himself into a frenzy. Has Steve got no idea about what he's doing to him? Because Eddie's been lowkey crushing on Steve since he got mixed up in the whole Upside Down business and it just got worse when he woke up at the hospital to Steve holding his hand and giving him the brightests of smiles that there was, rubbing his thumb over Eddie's knuckles, whispering a soft "Hey there sleeping beauty, how're ya feeling?" while being completely oblivious to the suspicious look Wayne was giving them. And sure, hanging out with him nearly every day didn't help the situation one bit.

But this. This is going to be the death of him.

And it just keeps on happening. Steve murmurs "goodnight baby" into the phone before hanging up, he shouts "babe, come here, you gotta see this" when Lucas ends up stuffing fifteen oreos into his mouth (which is a new personal record) and whispers "hey baby, I'm sorry, I know you'd rather do something else, but I promised Mrs Wheeler" when they're watching Holly's ballet recital, waving at her from their seats when her eyes land on them.

It all comes to a head when Eddie's stupid van breaks down in the middle of fucking nowhere, on their way back from Indianapolis, after going there to buy a special boardgame for Dustin's birthday.

There's not a single car or house to be seen anywhere in a ten mile radius.

"Oh this is just great," Steve hisses as he jumps out of the car to walk around and Eddie does the same. He pops the hood and watches as a small cloud of smoke slithers out of it.

"Shit" Eddie swears under his breath. It looks bad.

"See baby, that's exactly why I told you to get it checked! Because I didn't wanna get stuck in fucking no man's land!"

"Look, I'm sure if we just leave it to rest a little..."

"Rest? Eds, come on, you know that's not how it works. We gotta walk up to the next gas stop and phone someone to tow it."

"Fuck, fine!" Eddie grunted. "But it gets dark in like twenty minutes."

They both know that they can't handle walking out in the wild after dark. Not after everything and not with all the nightmares that still tormented them most nights.

"Then I guess we're sleeping out here tonight." Steve says, dropping his hands on his hips. "You have pillows or some shit in the back?"

"Got a couple of blankets, yeah."

In the end they lay down two blankets on the bottom of the van and bundle up some old jumpers Eddie keeps in there for pillows. They lie there, facing each other in the dark.

"Hey... I'm sorry about all this" Eddie whispers, like his voice could disturb anyone out here in the middle of nowhere.

"It's okay, I just wish you'd pay more attention to stuff like this. I mean shit, babe, what if it's just you out here, huh? What then?"

"Steve-"

"I mean, I just hate to think about how shitty it would be, to be out here alone, in the dark... plus I'd worry myself sick not knowing where you are, you know?"

"Steve."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not alone."

"No, no you're not alone" Steve agrees with a private little smile.

They settle into a companionable silence and Eddie's almost certain that Steve is just about to drift off, but he can't contain it in himself any longer; he has to ask.

"Hey Steve?"

"Mmh?"

"Why uh... why are you keep calling me...?" He can't bring himself to say it out loud without his face heating up.

"What?"

"Names." He settles, hoping that Steve would get it.

"Names?"

He's gonna make him say it, isn't he?

"Yeah like uh... baby."

"Oh"

Even in the darkness of the van Eddie can see how the colour darkens in Steve's cheeks.

"Does it bother you?" Steve asks after a beat and Eddie just sighs out a soft "no".

"Okay."

For a long moment it seems that this is all Eddie's gonna get, but then Steve shuffles a little closer and runs a finger along Eddie's palm before taking his hand into his own.

"It just felt right, you know? Calling you that. I dunno, it was like how it was meant to be."

"That sounds kinda romantic, isn't it?" Eddie's shooting for a joke, but Steve just sighs timidly.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

"Steve-"

"Eddie... can I?" He doesn't finish it, but Eddie knows he'd say yes to pretty much anything Steve could ever ask from him.

"Yeah" He breathes with a little nod and Steve scoots even closer, placing his other hand onto Eddie's cheek. He leans in and looks him in the eyes for an impossibly long moment, making sure he's got permission one last time.

Steve whispers a soft "baby" onto his lips before finally closing the gap between them.

[qprstobin]

I want a Steve who genuinely doesn't want to play DnD because it's just not his thing! He enjoys watching and thinks some of it seems fun, but just isn't interested in the time commitment, or the math, or various other parts of it.

HOWEVER he does demand, like a child when they find out someone is writing a book, to be put in every single campaign as a random npc. He doesn't want to sit down for hours roleplaying, but he does want that seductress in the tavern to have good hair and be named Stevana.

And this isn't like, something the others don't know about, it's very obvious who it is each campaign. Sometimes Eddie even convinces Steve to do the voice for the character if it's a fun one and Steve isn't at work. Steve enjoys how much it both amuses and gets on various Hellfire members nerves, especially because his characters are always... Pretty out there.

Gareth and Jeff tend to be amused by Steve's characters, unless they are actively getting in their way and even then Jeff at least normally just finds them hilarious. Freak continues to want to study Steve like a bug. A crowd favorite for the CC members but a point of annoyance for the Party was the character that Steve pitched that was infatuated with that quest's main villain and would appear randomly just to say something really suggestive about the big bad, inconvenience them somehow even in a really minor way, and then dip. They were definitely supposed to be rescuing Stefano at one point but he was basically kidnapping himself at several points. Dustin is perpetually annoyed because Steve won't play with them for real, but he WILL play a random bimbo that starts them on a quest and enjoys flirting with the older members characters.

(Will and Lucas are... Maybe a little disappointed he's never flirted with their characters but also, Steve would never do that lol.)

Eddie is fine with it, he thinks this is a great compromise. He gets that Steve doesn't want to do hours long storytelling sessions, but this way he still gets to enjoy time with Steve doing one of his favorite things - creating characters and writing the most annoying stories possible. He loves that Steve is participating in even just a small way, and honestly only having him participate for a little bit at a time is better for Eddie's ability to stay on task anyway. He knows Steve wouldn't have fun being a player but he also knows Steve loves being a problem.

[rogueddie]

Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.

His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.

But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.

It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.

Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.

It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.

He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.

But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.

He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.

"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"

"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."

They laugh, quickly moving on.

After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.

He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.

They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.

"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."

"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."

"It's ugly."

"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."

"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."

"No, it's not. It's special to me."

"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"

"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."

"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."

"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."

"If- what?"

"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"

"You've lost me."

Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.

"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"

"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"

"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."

Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"

"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."

"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."

[johnnycakesb14de]

I don't know if this goes past your rules but can you do like (greaser) x reader when someone in the gang catches y'all like making out?

HOW THEY WOULD REACT TO YOU GUYS GETTING CAUGHT MAKING OUT

DARRY

He would definitely be the more secretive type when it comes to kisses mostly because all of his friends are immature

But I imagine y'all would be in the kitchen alone it's his day off and the boys are out

One thing leads to another and y'all are just being romantic and showing affection by making out

Next thing you know you hear the traditional caught-off-guard-cough-laugh

Darry looks up and sees Dally, Johnny and Ponyboy.

"Y'all enjoying yourselves?"

"Shut the fuck up Dallas."

SODAPOP

He was on break at the DX and you stopped by to see him and bring him food because you wanted to hang out with your boyfriend

Y'all were in the back just hanging out be cuties

Hes flirting with you

You know giving his typical sodapop charm flashing you his million dollar smile

He kisses you a few times and it leads to a make out and y'all are just in the moment not really thinking about muchv

Then Steve walks in

cunt

"Hey so what ar- HELLO? WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Y'all both turn around and you roll your eyes in embarrassment

"Do that on your own time please."

"Shut up Steve."

PONYBOY

Say your older in this maybe like 15-16 because for the first while of y'all dating you wouldn't be allowed in his room alone even with the door open Darrys just crazy like that

Y'all were in his room working on some homework or just hanging out when you totally very sneakily shut the door all the way thinking Darry won't find out because he's cooking

And start kissing

Not even two minutes later Darrys nosy ass barges in

"What did I say about the door kidd- Oh excuse me?!?!"

Y'all create distance from each other staring at him wide eyed

"I swear it isn't w-"

"be quiet Ponyboy. I have these rules for a reason, you guys can come into the living room since you can't be trusted."

"Why?"

"Y/N, don't start."

Johnny

Yall were in the lot because where else would you be

You kissed him a few times and it let to a slight make out nothing crazy

Two-bit came up to tell Johnny that unfortunately Dally had been arrested for some odd reason

And the SECOND he sees you he's instantly teasing y'all

he's trying to tease you but he ends up just making it really uncomfortable

"Lord almighty, what's going on here?! Save room for Jesus, she might get pregnant!" Insert two-bit laugh wheeze

"Cut it out man."

DALLAS

Y'all were at Bucks for some party and it was getting really loud

You were overstimulated, Dally was tipsy and everyone was getting on his nerves so he took you outfront for some fresh air

Dally was being Dally and talking to you and kissing you a few times and it leads to a make out

Then Steve walks out

(I imagine him and Dally are actually pretty good friends)

He starts laughing

"Uhhhh, Dal'! Y'know where Evie is?"

"Why the fuck would I know where your girlfriend is?"

"I dunno, just wonderin'."

He rolled his eyes and dramatically sighed

Steve

You were at work with him trying to help him

Which actually just meant he was yelling at you for certain tools

You were getting bored he was getting frustrated because he couldn't figure out what was wrong with the car so you told him to to take a small break

So he took a break and you both just started talking and he kisses you

After he pulled away you kissed him back

Darry walks in looking for Soda

"Oh, my bad. I was just looking for Soda"

"In the back Darry."

He leaves and you laugh

Two-bit

Y'all were at the drive-in just hanging out

He was bothering people yk just being two-bit

And somehow you both ended up at the drag race that Steve, Soda and Dallas were at

You were leaned up against the hood of his car and he was in front of you and you were making out

Soda comes up and laughs at y'all

"HAHAHA, Steve come look!'

Two-bit looks at him and also starts laughing because hes two-bit

And your just there like 'omfg'

[angel-munson]

stevie doesn't know

warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral (fem. receiving), use of petnames, cheating, phone sex (kinda), slight use of "daddy", choking, multiple orgasms, protective eddie with his fuck buddy

pairing: eddie munson x female (afab) reader

summary: your boyfriend steve cheats on you all the time. your vengeance comes in the form of eddie, who you're secretly hooking up with. when the phone rings during one of your sneaky sessions, a three-way call might be the way stevie finally finds out...[6.8k]

—inspired by "scotty doesn't know" by lustra—

a/n: i had this idea while listening to this song and HAD to write it. this is one of my first times writing smut, i'm still practicing! enjoy ♡

Your boyfriend Steve couldn't help but be a douche sometimes. Most times, actually.

You should have known dating Hawkins' most infamous ladies man might be problematic before you even started. His stupidly perfect hair and ability to smooth talk made you believe he might be different with you.

The first time you caught him with another girl, you didn't want to believe it. And because you were naïve and try to see the best in people, you stayed with him.

Unfortunately for you, there was a next girl. And another. And then another one after that. The cheating reached a point where you almost expected it to happen and even grew apathetic to it.

You stayed with Steve out of fear of being alone, and because that's all you knew how to do. That was until you became acquainted with the notoriously odd and intimidating Eddie Munson.

It started one night when you were buying weed from him. He'd told you to come by the trailer he lives in, claiming that he kept his "good stuff" there. You were surprised to find out how funny and kind the older male was.

He was a total flirt, making you smile and laugh in ways that King Steve never even came close to. That's how smoking a joint with him turned into the best sex you ever had, each having an earth-shattering orgasm on his stained mattress.

That one-time thing turned into a routine, squeezing in a quickie any chance you got. His place, yours, his van in the school parking lot, under the bleachers...

You and Eddie were addicted to each other, drawn together like magnets. The connection only got stronger the more time you spent together. He made you feel more than just physical pleasure...he made you comfortable.

After a shitty day, you went by the tattooed male's place hoping to forget your troubles. You ended up crying in his arms and telling him about everything on your mind. Eddie cared, he really cared about you.

That's why his blood was boiling when you told him about Steve. He could never believe that the douchey brunette got to have you, the coolest girl in town; hearing how he was treating you made him want to "rearrange Steve's face".

Slowly, you became more than just fuck buddies. It was a complicated situation, especially with how passionate the sex got at some points. Fingers laced together, longing gazes into each other's eyes, tender kisses, and sweet nothings.

You felt guilty for cheating on Steve even though he had been doing worse to you for about a year. Eddie encouraged you, never letting you feel bad about it. And how could you argue when he was inches deep inside you, calling you pretty and making you feel amazing?

He was doing exactly that now, thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt as he knelt behind you. Your upper body was limp against the bed, back arching as Eddie held your hips up. He gave your ass a firm smack, watching the recoil with a groan.

"Mmn, fuck, Eds," you moaned, face down in your pillows. The laud only spurred him on, encouraged him to pull you back against his fat cock.

"Yeah? You love being fucked like this, baby?" he grunted deep from his chest. The pet name made your walls clench around him like they always do. It drives Eddie crazy.

The slapping of your skin together halts when he pulls your ass flush with his hips, making the bulging tip of his dick push the soft spot inside you. You whimpered and reached back, searching for somewhere to hold on. Your sweaty hand found Eddie's forearm and you squeezed it firmly when he started gyrating.

The rolling motion he's making with his hips allowed him to fuck you insanely deep without ever leaving your pussy. His ringed hand slid down beneath you to your clit, three calloused fingers working it perfectly as he's done thousands of times.

"Oh my god," you pant, feeling a warmth tingle in your lower abdomen. "'M gonna cum. P-please, please."

The sound of you begging even though Eddie always gives you what you want made him chuckle darkly. He pulled out his dick merely a couple of inches, looking down at where you were swallowing him in. A creamy ring surrounded the base of his length, a sight that made him twitch as he pushed all the way back in to continue his motion.

Just as your whining picked up and you were about to cum, your phone rang loudly on the bedside table. Eddie's hand on your clit stopped and he slowed his thrusts as you groaned, annoyed.

"Does that asshole have to ruin everything for me?!" you bitched, already knowing it was your shitty boyfriend. You pushed your ass back, hoping to fuck yourself on Eddie although your climax was already ruined by the shrill ringing. "He can wait."

The curly-haired boy watched the part of your face he could see, laying against the pillow with reddened cheeks. He read the frustration on your face and bent down to kiss your shoulder blade. His hand slithered up your body, pinching at your hardened nipple.

He hummed a pleased noise when you clamped down around his length. When he was about to start back up, the phone sounded again.

"Oh my fucking god," you hissed, reaching to unplug it from the wall.

Eddie took hold of your bicep, stopping you. When you looked back, the expression on his face was one of deviance. He smirked from beneath his dark, fringed bangs and your heart sank.

"Answer it."

"What?" You couldn't believe what he'd said.

"Pick up the phone," he began, and his voice took on a devilish tone. "Have a conversation with your boyfriend."

"That's it?" you questioned. "No catch."

"Only one. I want you to be quiet. Don't give it away."

"Give wha-" Your words were snatched away when Eddie pulled his dick out with a wet schlick, plunging two fingers in as the replacement.

A high-pitched scream tore through your throat as he began to fuck you filthily with his digits. They weren't as thick as his cock, but the ferocity of his movements made you require a moment to recover.

"Pick up the phone and talk, sweetheart," he spoke with a steady voice, a talent of his you were consistently amazed by. He brought his face down to kiss the plush area around your ass and hips. When you didn't grab the telephone fast enough for his liking, he brought his teeth down on the skin.

You squealed, biting your lip and regaining your composure as you lifted the phone to your ear.

"Hello?" You swallowed thickly, hearing your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

"Hey, babe. Sorry I forgot to call yesterday." You rolled your eyes at Steve's lie. "What are you up to?"

"Me? Oh, nothing much, just-"

Eddie began to scissor his fingers inside you. His lips pressed to the unoccupied area of your slick sex, lapping up the juices as quietly as he could. Your free hand slammed onto the mattress on its own accord, grabbing a handful of the floral sheets for purchase.

"Talk, baby," Eddie breathed against your core. He licked a stripe up your fold and blew on it before introducing a third finger in your swollen hole. You pulled the phone away temporarily to whine.

"Just watching some TV and working on homework," you lied, letting the words out a little too quickly.

"Oh, that sounds fun." Steve's totally not listening to you. "I saw that 'Risky Business' is playing at the drive-in this weekend."

"Cool. That's the one with Tom Cruise?"

Eddie chuckled when you squirm as he removed his fingers, creating a sinful noise. He saw the way your thighs were shaking and pushed your hips down to level you flat on the bed. He hovered over you, caging you beneath him as he moved his face to where you could see him.

You met his eyes that were hooded with a teasing hunger you can't stand. He sucked on the fingers that were just inside you, cleaning your slick off as he moaned quietly enough that Steve didn't hear.

"Yeah, that one," Steve's voice sounded, though it's impossible to focus on anything but Eddie.

"I was thinking we could go see it. It'd be like old times."

As Steve started to detail the date, Eddie crawled back down to part your legs with his large hands. You brought your hand from the sheets to your mouth, covering it as his plump lips start to kiss their way up the insides of your thighs.

"We could park in the back, bring some booze..." Steve's voice rambled on as Eddie's lips finally connect where you want him most.

He began to eat you out from behind, sucking and swirling his tongue in combinations that had you grinding yourself on the mattress, desperate for some more friction. Your mind went blank when he flattened his long tongue on your clit.

"Are you listening to me?" Steve snapped.

"Y-yes. I'm listening," you struggled to respond back. "Go ahead."

Hearing this makes Eddie laugh, vibrating against your dripping cunt. The sensation shot you closer to your orgasm and he could tell from the way your hole gaped around nothing.

"Pretty pussy," he spoke against it, though you can barely hear him. "Needy for her daddy, huh? So naughty. Gonna cum on my tongue while she talks to her boyfriend."

You caught the last part and made a fist, biting down as Eddie prodded his long tongue into your slit. And because he's greedy and wants to taste your orgasm, his thumb skillfully circled your clit.

"No one can see us so we don't really need to watch the movie..." Steve chuckled and you would surely roll your eyes if they weren't already back in your skull from Eddie's ruthless assault on your pussy.

"Sounds like you just wanna get in my pants, Stevie," you shot back, voice steadier than it had been because he was really bothering you. This made Eddie growl an animalistic sound.

He knows he shouldn't be jealous, but he is. Especially now when he's buried in your cunt, the one you've told him he owns so many times before. He knows Steve can't make you feel half as good as he does, can't fuck you the way he does, can't love you the way he does.

With a final slurping sound, he abandoned the idea of pulling an orgasm out with his mouth. He lost all self-control; he needed to be as deep as you can take him rightfuckingnow. You barely had time to register the fact that he stopped licking you before he roughly tugged your ass back up in the air.

"I didn't mean it like that, I just...We haven't gone past second base in forever." Steve's ridiculous words were drowned out when Eddie slammed back into your pussy.

It welcomed him, wet and stretched out from everything he'd given you so far. He faced hardly any resistance stuffing his generous length all the way to the end of you. The backs of your thighs smack his pelvis as he started to drill into you with an unforgiving pace.

You screamed, loud and high-pitched into the receiver. Your upper body sank and you attempted to hold yourself up on your elbows. This only added to the pleasure as your blushed nipples rubbed the cotton sheets, tits bouncing with every thrust.

"Babe? What was that?" Steve stopped mid-sentence to question you.

It was a challenge trying to straighten out your thoughts when you could feel Eddie in your throat. He's hitting such a delicious angle, one that prods the spongey end of you so forcefully it's teetering on the edge of pain.

"N-no..." you stuttered, holding out the vowel as you fail to soothe your boyfriend's suspicion. "Nothing. Something f-fell off the shelf and scared me."

The words came out rushed, all weaved together in one single breath. Each time the metalhead thrust in and out, he stole away your oxygen. His large, rough hands squeezed onto the fat of your thighs to pull you against him. His thick cock was splitting you apart, emptying and filling you to bust at the seams at a frantic speed.

A dark chuckle spilled from the plump lips of the male behind you and he could still taste you on his tongue. The realization made him groan, dropping his head back as sweaty tendrils of cocoa hair tickled the backs of his shoulders.

Without warning, he slowed suddenly. You were about to whine at him before Steve's droning voice on the phone reminded you of the secrecy you were beginning to fail at maintaining.

The metal of Eddie's rings bit your skin when he squeezed firmly on your left hip. This was one of his signals for when he wanted to switch positions or have you take over.

He was able to guide you without words, your heated body pliant beneath his dominant touch. His cock never left your pulsating core as he relaxed his position back, kneeling on the mattress.

Your legs bent around his as you sat back against his lap. His chest pressed flush against the curve of your spine as you wriggled, adjusting your seating. The position would allow you to reverse ride him using the strength of your thighs.

The curled cord of the phone was stretched out to reach where you were. The douchey brunette on the other line was telling a story about some party he and Tommy had gone to, laughing at his own words as he recalled the memory and tried to omit the parts about him hooking up with other girls.

Eddie's one hand settled against your hip while the other smoothed its way up your side. It started at the soft pooch of your tummy, up to your heavy tits to tweak the hardened peaks, and finally to a gentle grip on your neck. His long fingertips reached up to tilt your chin forward as he clamped around the thundering veins near your throat.

As you breathed a strangled gasp under his touch, he forced you to look up where the reflection of you two stared back in the mirror atop your dresser. The sight of his hand of rings wrapped around your neck as you were seated on his cock made you moan, a noise that was cut short by the pressure from his choking.

You weren't sure who looked more fucked out, you or him. Usually, Eddie was great at keeping his composure, but the look he had in his eyes when you met them in the mirror was...feral. Rabid, exhausted, lustful, on the brink of losing it.

He took in the sinful sight of you. The way your head was hanging limply on his shoulder, drool glistening at the corner of your lips from the aggressive pounding you'd just taken. Your grip on the telephone was weak, leaving it to slide low on your neck as your sweaty hand could barely stay up.

"Come on, pretty," he rasped hotly in your ear. "Take what you need from me."

       With a breath in for preparation, you lifted yourself up slowly. As you hollowed out, your cunt drooled down every inch of him and onto his balls, heavy and wound tight with his impending release. You cried out when you dropped your ass back down, spearing his bulging tip into your guts.

You began a steady pace, bouncing yourself on his dick and swallowing the whimpers that came when he stretched your hole continually. Eddie thrust his hips upward to meet your movement. This only wedged him deeper into your sex, nudging your uterus and launching you toward climax.

       Steve was ranting about how much he loved having a pretty girlfriend and that he'd make it up to you for how busy he's been lately. You pulled the phone away, clamping a hand over the lower speaker as you switched to gyrating your hips in circular motions.

"F-fuck, Eddie. So good, so, so..." you babbled.

His rugged hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the pornographic noises you were making. On your neck, his hot mouth sucked and nipped.

"Gotta stay quiet, sweets. Pick up the phone and keep talking," he ordered.

"But, da-"

"Don't be a brat," he barked. A particularly sharp thrust upward punched the air from your lungs. "Don't you wanna be good for me? Want me to let you cum?"

You nodded with such vigor Eddie thought it must've hurt your neck. He removed his hand from your mouth and smacked a wet kiss onto your temple.

"That's my girl."

       Your cunt fluttered around him, giving you away.  You loved how possessive he could get and he knew it. Maybe it was because he cared and wanted you to be his...that was more than your actual boyfriend ever did.

Taking a deep breath in, you brought the phone back up to your ear to find Steve finishing up his ridiculous ramble.

"How are you gonna make it up to me, big boy?" you uttered, exerting all your effort to sound natural.

The tattooed male grunted beneath you and encased both your hips with his large hands. He used his strength to lift you up and drop you back down on his fat cock. It was a challenge keeping the sound of slapping skin to a minimum, especially when his brain was this fuzzy.

His dark eyes kept darting between the mirror and his lap. One allowed him to watch himself pumping in and out, your cunt stretched wide around his girth and soaking down to the coiled tufts of hair at his base. Your ass jiggled each time and the skin reddened from the roughness.

       The mirror was his favorite view: you, coming undone from how incredible he was making you feel. Your body was littered with love bites, places he'd nipped at for hours that evening. The sight of your breasts, full and flushed as they swayed with the motions, was making him lose it.

When he ever looked at your pretty face, Eddie had to tighten the muscles of his abdomen to hold off his orgasm.

Your head was lolled back into the crook of his shoulder. Sweat-damp wisps of hair were glued to the sides of your pink cheeks. Your eyebrows were knit together, creased in the middle as you worked to stay quiet. Saliva glistened where it trailed down from your swollen lips, stuck open with small breathy pants.

He needed to make you cum now because it was growing impossible for him not to.

       Steve was spewing some bullshit about flowers and taking you to Enzo's for dinner. You nearly laughed thinking about how the last time he did that, he flirted with the waitress and ogled at her ass right in front of you. It blended into white noise when Eddie increased his efforts.

He leaned back slightly, the sticky skin of his chest leaving your back to allow a needed swath of cool air. Two calloused fingertips pressed to your sensitive nub and begin to play you like his most prized guitar. That alone was pushing your stimulation to the brink of exploding, but he wasn't done yet.

The lanky male returned to thrusting upward into you again with more fervor this time. Rather than just stroke straight up, he used his hips to direct himself in different directions, at multiple angles.

His massive cock pioneered its way into places you'd never felt him before. You could feel the thundering of his veins as he stretched out new channels in your pussy.

"H-hmn," you bit down on moans. "Mmn, hngh."

       It didn't take much more for you to lose yourself. The band in your stomach that had been pulled taught since before the phone even rang finally snapped. A pathetic whine rose from your chest as your body quivered, seizing up and then falling limp.

"Oh, fuck," Eddie spat, about to come undone himself. His throat choked up as he continued to ram upward, quickly chasing his own orgasm as you became a rag-doll in his lap.

Your juices trickled down his skin as he pumped into you a few more times. His whimpering blended with your heavy-breathed panting as he came deep inside your cunt.

The sound of his ragged moans and sharp cussing was almost inaudible over the ringing in your ears. When you came back down to earth, he'd already recovered from his climax.

"Shh-shh," Eddie soothed. Your slit throbbed as the milky mess you two made warmed where you remain connected. He pulled your back flush to his inked chest. "Took me so well, honey. I've got you."

The bad boy being that sweet to you though he fucked you so ruthlessly made you melt into his touch. Your eyes drooped and a single tear streamed down. The sensation inside your chest was red-hot, passionate; deeper than something you should be feeling for your fuck buddy...

       Coming had caused such a blackout in your mind that you didn't register Steve speaking to you until he shouted through the phone.

"Hello?! Did you hear what I said?"

"S-sorry." You struggled to hide the exhaustion in your voice. "What?"

"What the hell was that noise? Are you watching porn or something?" he pushed, clearly irritated.

You weren't sure what to say...he had definitely heard your keening as you came, probably Eddie too. Would he be dumb enough to believe a lie?

"It's just the TV. Some overdone sex scene, I dunno," you responded.

Eddie wrapped his strong arms around you to help you relax against him, giving your worn-out body a rest. Your abused cunt fluttered upon feeling his warm release spilling out around his softened length.

"Oh. Okay. Well, turn it down," Steve requested. Wow, he is dumb enough to believe it.

       Miraculously, your boyfriend went right back to blabbering. He loved to talk when it was about himself; he switched to the topic of how his dad was forcing him to get a job at the mall for not getting into college.

You almost felt bad since he doesn't really have anyone to talk to. He always dumps it on you, and you let him no matter how shitty he is to you.

Your mind doesn't have time to wander that way as the metalhead picked you up, pulling out and admiring the mess you made. The hollow feeling as your gaping hole clenched on nothing made you wince.

Eddie's soft hands laid you down with your back on the mattress. It felt nice to be horizontal again, able to let yourself settle in with limbs that felt like Jell-O. You rolled your head to the left, trapping the phone between your ear and shoulder so you didn't have to hold it up anymore.

With heavy eyelids, you glanced up at where the long-haired boy was. He was standing at the foot of the bed, taking a long drag of the cigarette he'd abandoned in the bedside ashtray. You two held gazes as he blew out a grey cloud.

"Want some?" he mouthed to you. You nodded, eyes blown open with luster. The springs of the mattress creaked beneath his weight as he leaned on a knee, outstretching his tattooed arm.

"What about The Gap? Or Herman's Sporting Goods?" you suggested to Steve's need for a job.

After the words left you, Eddie held the filtered end up to your lips. You laid a gentle hand on his forearm and swept the pad of your thumb over the freckled skin. The deep inhale of tobacco was a welcome indulgence after the body-shaking orgasm you had.

The sight of you was trouble, however.

Eddie could feel the blood rushing back to his crotch again already. As he backed up, you caught sight of his cock, red and hardening. His sex drive never failed to impress you; that's why most times you left his place being unable to walk.

He couldn't handle it. How beautiful and fucked-out you looked laying there. Your body, every curve and dip, was glimmering with a sheen of sex. His marks were all over you: from hickeys to bruising indents of his rings, to his cum dribbling out of your sweet center.

His heart was throbbing, perhaps even more painfully than his dick was.

       It stood upright against his toned stomach as his gaze dragged across you. The Harrington boy recounted his failures of the jobs he'd already applied for while you twisted the rubber-coated cord around your finger.

The image of the older male needy for you again had you rubbing your bare thighs together. He was undeniably the most attractive guy you'd ever seen. Never before had you had this level of sexual chemistry and spark with someone. It's like he unlocked something in you, took away your fears, and maximized your pleasure in all things.

"Jesus," he muttered.

       You two moved in sync, your hand traveling up your own body as he brought an uneasy hand down to palm himself. His tip glistened with pearlescent pre-cum when your red-painted fingernails cupped your breast. You squeezed down just enough for the fat to spill between your knuckles, putting on a show.

Apparently, your stamina had built up since being involved with Eddie. You beckoned him closer with a curling pointer finger.

"Need you," you let the words ghost out. And because he would do anything you say, the boy crawled atop you so his frizzed curls hung down around your face.

You gripped the midsection of the phone to secure Steve's increasingly-irritating voice against your ear. The lower speaker pressed into your shoulder, hopefully an effective agent for muffling noise.

Two of your nimble fingers hooked around Eddie's dangling necklace to pull him down. His mouth was gentle on yours, a newfound softness to ease back in. It was a nice break from the rushed heat of the past hours and still turned you on an immense amount.

       There wasn't much foreplay this time. Eddie's diamond-hard cock sank inside you easily as you made out lazily. You whimpered at the sensitivity of your puffy cunt, a pathetic sound that he swallowed as you passed it onto his skillful tongue.

"Do you think Coach would be one of my references?" Steve's questioning intonation snagged your attention before it got too foggy. You hummed against Eddie's lips and your unspoken language got him to pull away.

"Mm, maybe...who else do you have?" you mumbled. As you turned your head to the receiver, the long-haired male kissed your cheek and temple. He then nuzzled his face into your neck.

It was a momentary break for him, pausing to breathe in your scent and become intoxicated with you. It was something he did when he was feeling clingy, needy for you; a confusion in his mind on why he felt so intimately connected to his friend with benefits.

"Perfect girl. He doesn't deserve you," Eddie slurred with hot fanning breaths. "Gonna make you forget him. Gonna fuck you so good you can't remember his dumb name..."

       As he grumbled in one of your ears, Steve was in the other, justifying that he used his mom as a reference. You urged him to think of other people and asked him about places in town that he thought would be fun to work at; you knew this would send him into more verbose blabbing.

Your purposeful inquisition worked and your boyfriend's words became garbled nonsense as you shifted attention back to the pretty boy on top of you.

He had begun to thrust, slow and sloppy. The movement was enough to increase your two's breathing and arousal. He accompanied it with wet kisses along your neck, suckling the tender skin every so often.

"More," you huffed. Your fingers twisted in the roots of Eddie's hair and tugged softly, emitting a groan from his throat.

"More what, sweets? Hm?" he urged, lifting his face up to see you. He was super talkative in the bedroom, so it was killing him trying to tone it down since you were on the phone.

"M-more Eddie."

       He puffed air through his nostrils in amusement and forced his cock a tad deeper in you. His hips continually met yours as you felt every veiny detail of him gliding inside. The whine that left you was unintentionally loud, neediness pricking momentary irrationality in you.

Hearing you asking for more him had Eddie's world spinning and cock pulsing.

"'M gonna give it to you, but you gotta be quiet for me," he grunted. "Just a little longer."

You gave him agreement by stretching your neck up to meet his lips, kissing him into a wet mess. He adjusted his legs, slightly kneeling to give him better leverage to fuck you. As his hips picked up moving again, a thought struck his fuzzy mind. He broke the kiss.

"Baby, need you to do somethin'," he uttered in that deep bass his voice takes on during sex. "When you cum, be as loud as you want."

"E, he's gonna hear." You emphasized the words quietly, gesturing with your head to the phone you held with a clammy hand.

"I know" was all he said before snapping back and stuffing his cock meanly into your sopping pussy. Your hand was jostled from his hair to the broadness of his back, muscles strong beneath taught pale skin. You had to dig your nails in for grip, trying to hold on and not scream from how incredible he felt.

       Missionary was not a position you two used often. It was too romantic, though you blamed it on its "vanilla" reputation; nothing was vanilla when Eddie was as huge and skilled as he was.

In fact, being able to see him up close in the position was launching you toward your orgasm so quickly that you couldn't even think. His eyes were like polished cedar, brown and glossy as he maintained an unbroken gaze.

The curled mess of his hair hung around his broad shoulders and strands of his bangs stuck to his forehead with sweat. Pink, plump lips that kiss you just how you need him every time were parted to let out throaty breaths. His cheeks, flecked with faint spots and a tiny vertical scar, had flushed the most delectable red hue.

It was impossible to conceal the small uh's and hah's that slipped your lips. Eddie couldn't get enough of them, fueled to fuck you harder so he could hear them louder.

       You loved being able to hear him too. He was no doubt the one in charge, but you had the ability to make him fall apart with such ease. There was a longing in your chest to hear him praising you, something he was holding off on since Steve was still a third party to this.

Normally, the older male would be coaxing you to your orgasm. He always hit this point where you were squeezing him so tight that his mind got lost, absolutely drunk on you and how you felt.

Feel so fucking good, babe. Jesus, you're fuckin' tight. Wanna hear those pretty noises when you cum for me. Perfect pussy squeezin' me just right. Gonna fuck you like this forever, beautiful girl.

He was biting his tongue now, only letting flat huffs and the occasional groan fly free. But you knew the things that drove him crazy.

       You lifted your hips, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep him closer. It made you suck his thick cock even more, pussy suctioning him to its limit. The angle had his tip spearing into your stomach and he could feel it. He hissed through his teeth.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he groaned. Your warmth was gripping him like a vice and it had the muscles in his abdomen tightening. His thrusts stuttered only a second before they increased in intensity.

Harder, deeper, faster.

"Fuck! Eddie, Eddie," you gurgled, tongue twisted and mind entirely mush. Reckless abandon took over you, leaving Steve entirely forgotten. "Oh my-hah-ah...Baby, baby please!"

The pitched whininess to your voice was a telltale sign of your climax. Eddie stroked a hand up your side, thumb rubbing your tummy.

"Let me hear your pretty sounds," he purred. "Let go, baby. Cum for me."

You were a goner.

       With the sensitivity of your cunt, you came suddenly, harshly. A flash of white light overtook your vision and your head pushed back into the pillow. As Eddie continued grinding himself deep into you, your back arched up off the mattress to press your body against his chest.

The noise that rattled your throat was somewhere between a sob and a moan. As your body seized up, the plastic phone dropped into your shoulder. Your fingernails dug further into the reddened lines they scratched on Eddie's toned back.

Your juices mixing with the cum he was fucking back into you made a wet squelching as he continually rammed in. He thrust through your high as his balls tightened and he couldn't take any more. His rings pinched your skin as he clamped down on your hips for leverage.

"Pretty girl takin' me so good." Eddie began the mindless ramble he often does as he unravels. "Pussy was made for me. Pretty...fuck, 'm gonna cum. Gonna cum inside my girl. My sweets-"

       Despite your exhaustion and subspace blankness, you gasped at the sensation of the hot flood of his cum coating your walls. His cock throbbed as you squeezed him for every drop. Eddie panted in heavy breaths as he continued to slackly thrust.

He let his sticky body rest on yours gently while his dick softened inside you. Your legs dropped onto the mattress and you relaxed, letting your breathing regulate.

The wordless recovery was one of the best parts of sex with Eddie; both of you making dulcet sounds, bodies pressed together...just you and him in a cloud of euphoria and heat.

       That peaceful moment was cut terribly short when Steve's furious voice boomed through the phone speaker. He was loud enough that you both could hear him even as the landline lay in the crook of you.

"Are you having sex right now? You're fucking some other guy?! Answer me, (Y/n). I swear to God..."

Eddie lifted his head up from your chest to clutch the phone, believing you were too out of it. As he was about to scream back at your boyfriend, your small hand encased his large one. You nodded at him and took the phone.

       Though you appreciated his protectiveness of you, this was yours to handle. Steve Harrington had screwed you over, treated you like shit too many times.

No more.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is that wrong of me to do?" you began. You didn't know tonight would be the night you duke this out with him, but here you were.

"Are you fucking kidding?!" Steve snapped, obviously fuming. "You're cheating while you're on the phone with me!"

"You wanna talk to me about cheating, Steve? That's hilarious. Really fucking ironic, don't you think? I'm not an idiot. Heather, Tina, Linda, Tracy, god damn Carol!"

       The words you spat made him shut up. You took a moment to breathe, the anger toiling inside you mixed with the heat of sex. Eddie collected your tangled hair to lift off your neck, preventing you from overheating.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Steve deadpanned. "I knew you could be a real bitch, but slut trumps that by a long shot."

The phone was ripped out of your grasp before you could reply. Eddie had heard and he was fucking seething. In the low lamplight of the room, you swore you saw fire in his eyes.

"Talk to her like that again and no girl will ever want to be seen with your reconstructed face," Eddie threatened. His voice was booming, full of venom.

"A cheating, classless, daddy's money douchebag like you could never take care of a girl like her. Don't worry, 'cause I've got it covered. Fuck you."

       You flinched at how hard he slammed the phone back onto its holder. His shoulders broadened as he inhaled a deep breath and released it, shaking with anger.

However, when he brought his face back to you it was soft and kind...those eyes cradling you inside their vision like the most precious thing he's ever seen. Without thinking, you used two slim fingers to brush back his hair with a tender touch.

"Are you okay?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned his weight onto his left side, hip meeting the mattress. His soft length remained inside you, plugging up the creamy mess you two made. Your body moved with his, angled just slightly as he used a grip on your waist to keep you ever so close.

"Mhm," you hummed, closing your eyes momentarily. You were dazed, worn from going at it for hours with Eddie and exerting the rest of your energy on Steve.

The tattooed boy tipped your hips as he pulled out, making you wince at the sensation. Feeling that empty after being stuffed full all night had you tingling. He kissed your cheek with saliva-shined lips and reached blindly around the bedside. Your eyes blinked open slowly upon the contact of him wiping you clean with his bandana.

Mindlessly you ran your hand up and down his warm bicep. He swiped the cloth delicately over your swollen folds, taking care not to hurt the sensitive area.

       As he cleared the wetness, you watched his eyes, glossed and mesmerized that were glued to your sex. You breathed a hum of amusement; he was still shamelessly addicted to your pussy, even when he was showering you with the tender aftercare he did every time.

"Thank you," you expressed. It was an innocent utterance into a room heavy with sweat and lust. Eddie's gaze met yours and you blinked, tiredly.

"I told you before, you don't have to thank me for cleaning up, sweetheart." He scrunched his nose cutely.

"I didn't mean for that."

"You don't have to thank me for making you cum," he remarked with a cocky smirk.

"Not that either, you dork." You poked your red-varnished fingernail into the black ink on his peck. As your round-cheeked smile faded, the eye contact between you two intensified.

       For fuck buddies who keep one another secret, you sure do look at one another with a lot of endearment. Maybe it's because of how intimately you know one another from the sex. Deep down you both know it's more than that; you just don't want to admit it and ruin what you have.

"I meant thank you for helping me finally get rid of that jerk," you mumbled. It made him smile genuinely with those dimples that charmed his way into your pants many months ago.

"Fun way to do it, wasn't it?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. He circled you in his arms, one slipping beneath your neck and the other wrapping around your back.

Both your hands rested on his chest when he tugged you closer. Naturally, your legs tangled into a jumble as your bodies were constantly magnetized to be as near as possible. It was a state of calm that you never felt with anyone else.

"I couldn't handle hearing you cry over him anymore," Eddie admitted. His voice rumbled under where your palms were flattened. "He never deserved you and you didn't deserve to feel like that."

       The wavering breaths you released tickled his pale skin, still burning. He seemed to always have the right words and the ability to make you feel good. You scooted your face closer to his on the silken pillow.

"I feel a lot better now," you murmured.

"I bet you do," he smirked. "I think that big finale was the loudest you've ever been. 'Oh, Eddie! Oh, baby!'"

His teasing mockery of your moaning made you roll your eyes, but his big dimply smile got you. You burst into giggles as the inches between you closed and his nose bumped yours.

You didn't need Steve; you never did. It was your friends with benefits, your fuck buddy, your dirty little secret who finally made you realize it.

       A blissed smile formed on your plumped lips when Eddie kissed your forehead and hugged you against him. Relaxation soothed your sore muscles as you had nothing left to worry about.

Not then, anyway. It was just you and this perfect boy who respected you and made you scream with pleasure.

Cuddling in the afterglow with him, it wasn't long before you were both fast asleep, velvet skin pressed warmly together as you rest your tired bodies.

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reblogs & feedback are appreciated! thanks for reading♡

[lioniheart]

(It was based on a take I saw earlier today but I think it got deleted)

"Why don't you like me?" Steve asks, not meeting his eyes.

They were on the new Hopper-Byers's back porch, a little bit after dark. The rest of the party had gone inside a while ago but Steve wanted a smoke and Eddie decided to have one as well. It was quite chilly for a summer night, and the wind made both of them shiever a bit.

"Excuse me?!" Eddie replied, after a half a minute of confusion. "Who said I didn't like you?"

"C'mon, man, I know the kids say it a lot, but I'm not actually an idiot!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, princess?"

"See?! Right there! Look, I just don't get it. I know you overheard that conversation I had with Will last week, but I thought you were all for that non-conformist bullshit, and let me tell you, fucking with someone because of their sexuality is very "the man" of you!" His voice was still hushed, but Steve had turned all the way to Eddie's direction now, glaring at the metalhead with what he tried to make look like defiance on his eyes, but were clearly just hurt.

"Steve-"

"The thing is, you've been treating Will just like always, so maybe that isn't it, wich is so more confusing, because I really thought we were getting closer, but now you keep making these jokes and... I don't get it! Did I do something wrong?"

"What?! No--" the other tried to interrupt, but Steve's rambling just kept on coming.

"Is it because of high school? Is the ‘princess’ thing some kind of payback for the whole King Steve bullshit? Dude, I know I was a douchebag- hmpf!"

Eddie, sensing Steve was about to spiral, clasped his hand on top of the boy's mouth.

"Stevie, I'm going to need you to stop right there, okay?" His voice was calm, but his heart was racing. Steve's eyes were wide, his cheeks pink, and Eddie couldn't help but notice how much closer they were now. "I'm so sorry I made you feel like I was mocking you. That was definitely not the intention. The total opposite, actually.” Steve made a questioning noise behind the ringed hand “The princess thing was me being an idiot, actually. I was just..” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “I was trying to flirt with you, sweetheart. Apparently, I’m really bad at it.”

[stevebckley]

Steve lost confidence after Nancy and now cannot comprehend blatant flirting. Like he can flirt with someone if he starts it but if he’s not initiating? He’s clueless.

The Corroded Coffin boys have a very unserious bet going to see who can get Steve to finally realize he’s being flirted with because Eddie’s been trying for months without success.

Gareth brings him homemade food and tells him how good he looks.

Jeff makes them learn his favorite song so they can play it for him on stage.

Freddie even brings him flowers and Steve just turned bright red and stutters out a confused thank you.

The three of them are at wits end after a few weeks and finally all traipse into Family Video when they know just Robin is on shift by herself to ask her what the fuck is wrong with him.

She laughs so hard she nearly falls off the counter. When she collects herself finally she explains that after everything, his idea of friendship includes all the this stuff.

Flower, and affection and attention? All things that Steve does for her and anyone he loves. Fuck, I mean they sleep in the same bed half the time!

“Honestly guys, short of someone marching up to him and telling him that they wanna take him out on a date and make out with him, he’s not going to assume anything.”

This leaves the group in kind of a state of confusion, Eddie managing to look completely lost in thought.

It all comes to a head during their next band practice.

Steve joins them like he always does when he doesn’t have work, letting himself into the garage and flopping onto the couch with Gareth and Freddie.

He automatically tosses his feet over Freddie’s lap, tucking his head into Gareth’s lap in a blatant excuse to let Gareth run his fingers through his hair.

Eddie is running late, so they’re all just waiting when Gareth can’t hold it in any longer.

“Are you as dense about people flirting with you as Robin says or are you deliberately ignoring it? I can never tell.” He feels bad now because Steve has stiffened under his finger.

“What do you mean? Who’s been flirting with me?”

All three boys start to laugh but it makes Steve shrink further into himself.

“No, no. I’m sorry, we are being assholes Steve. But honestly we’ve been flirting with you for weeks! Freddie brought you handpicked flowers, I’ve been making you cookies and Jeff serenaded you on stage!” Gareth is trying not to notice as Steve’s face flushes deeper and deeper. “That’s not to mention everything about Eddie.”

Steve is quiet for a moment, voice sad as he asks them if they only were being nice to him because they were flirting with him.

Gareth’s heart breaks a bit as he assures Steve that they were only really trying to make him feel loved and were being silly.

“We wouldn’t have done any of that if we didn’t wanna be friends with you, babe. You just get really cute when you’re flirted with and we’re all only men. Can’t resist a pretty face.”

Gareth is interrupted by Eddie busting into the room wearing a tee shirt that proudly proclaims ‘PLEASE MAKE OUT WITH ME STEVE IM VERY INTO YOU!”

Steve very easily pulls himself upright, launching himself into Eddie’s arms with a grin, dragging their mouths together in a very loud kiss that gets the whole room cheering.

“I’ve been waiting for you for months, Munson.” Steve says, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

Gareth groans and throws a pillow off the couch, pegging it off Steve’s back.

“Don’t even act like he’s not been flirting with you for months! It’s not that man’s fault you’re dense!”