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ghost-proofbaby · 10 months

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut (oral, f receiving), overload of cheesiness, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.8k+

→ a/n: this might be the cheesiest, fluffiest thing i've ever written, and i can't even be bothered to care. it might be unrealistic. it might be too much. i do not care. this has been a long time coming and i think we all deserve all the cheese after this story.

i don't even know what to say besides thank you. thank you to everyone who followed along from the beginning, to those of you joined the journey along the way, to those of you who are reading as we finish it up. thank you for all the support and love you guys have shown this fic. i will always, always, appreciate it more than i know how to say. i love these idiots, and i love you all.

if you would like to see this story continued through small blurbs, my ask box is officially open to requests from this universe. i will also probably be posting some "beyond the hours" content over the next few weeks.

thank you. i love you.

without further ado...

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

EPILOGUE: A BET

TWO MONTHS LATER

“Why are there so many fuckin’ options?”

Eddie stares at the line up of smartphones before him, all different models and different physical sizes, different colors and different memory amounts.

“There’s not that many,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around him from behind as you rest your chin on his shoulder. It’s a bit of a stretch, making you lean up onto your tippy toes, “Besides, isn’t having options a good thing?”

He scoffs as he brings a hand up subconsciously to where your arms overlap on his torso, grip gentle as he runs a thumb over your skin and gives a squeeze, “Sure, options are great. But there’s at least twenty different iPhones on display here, sweetheart.”

The last few months had been interesting, to say the least. A new and exciting journey initially, but also a fairly stressful ordeal given all the hoops you two had been jumping through. You’re both busy people, having to suddenly figure out how to carve out a specific space for each other amongst bustling lives. It wasn’t the same as making time for friends or a weekly night out; it was figuring out times for dates, times for lazy afternoons, times for just you and just Eddie.

And, occasionally, time to take Eddie shopping for a new phone. Finally.

“Well, better pick one fast,” your fingers dig into his side playful, and he blows out an annoyed breath as he side-eyes you. You only retaliate in a fast peck to his cheek before whispering in his ear, “We’re gonna be late if you keep taking all day.”

It was Argyle’s birthday party tonight. His actual birthday wasn’t for another week, but he’d be venturing back home to California for that. And so the group elected to throw him a preemptive party at one of the group’s favorite bars.

Which — fine. Awesome. You were excited, you really were: you loved Argyle, you loved your friends, you even found yourself warming back up to parties.

But your friends didn’t know.

Two whole months, and neither you nor Eddie had told a single soul of what had become between you two. Not even Steve. Not even Nancy.

At first the excuse was to give this time to grow, to find your footing before you brought your lovable yet rambunctious group of friends into the equation. But then you two had found your footing, and you’d worried what they would say. Eddie had nearly made himself sick with anxiety over Nancy finding out he’d kept this relationship from her. They’d support you two — that wasn’t a worry. They’d proven that since the first time the entire group had hung out after the bet.

“So,” Robin started, narrowing her eyes at you and Eddie sitting on opposite ends of her and Steve’s couch. Neither of you had said a word to each other yet (Plenty had already been said that morning as you’d snuck him out of your dorm), “You two really aren’t together?”

“Why is everyone so adamant that the bet has to end with us getting together?” you jeered.

Eddie didn’t help the cause when he was quick to take your side, “Exactly! The bet’s over. We lasted twenty four hours. We’re friends now — isn’t that what you guys wanted?”

“I actually wanted to help you dudes plan a winter wedding,” Argyle chimed from the kitchen where he was retrieving a coke, “So I’m gonna side with Birdie on this one.”

“Of course you are,” you muttered beneath your breath.

Everything in you ached to be sitting next to Eddie rather than so far. You ached for his arm around you, his lips pressed to your temple. Just to share body heat, even — innocent thighs brushing with layers of denim between would have been enough.

“It’ll happen eventually,” Nancy mused from her seat on the kitchen counter, Jonathan beside her and matching her confident energy with a sly grin, “Just give them time.”

What they hadn’t realized is that it already did happen. The moment Eddie showed up to your dorm and the two of you said to Hell with space, it was inevitable.

Now, it was just the challenge of letting your friends in on the secret.

“What about the red one?” Eddie asks you as you finally unravel from him.

“Of course you’re choosing the red one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he scowls, no malice behind it as you step up to occupy the space next to him, brushing shoulders for only a moment before his hand is grabbing yours, intertwining fingers like second nature.

You recall that moment on his balcony, where he had once been so nervous and hesitant to hold your hand.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, smiling to yourself as you look at the specific model he was talking about, “You’re just getting a little bit predictable, Munson.”

He opens his mouth to argue, to nip back at what you always offer him, when one of the salesmen approach you two.

“Hi folks! Can I help you with anything today?”

Eddie squeezes your hand, no doubt in an effort to withhold his laughter at the man’s overly chirpy tone. You squeeze back, if for nothing more than to let him know you felt him.

Despite Eddie’s previous claim to a decision, he still chooses to entertain the man. Asking questions about different models, inquiring for recommendations as if they’d change his mind. They go back and forth, both polite enough, but the conversation easily bores you. In five seconds flat, your mind has officially wandered off.

You two hadn’t really discussed the specific details of the night to come. Whether you’d ride with Eddie there, how you’d navigate Eddie’s natural born clinginess once he got a few drinks in him, if tonight might be the night to finally tell your friends.

The last one felt a bit obvious. It was Argyle’s night — you didn’t want to snatch the attention from him for even a second.

But there were layers to your anxiety. Because it was more than just how to navigate how you two would display yourselves to your friends on nights out.

It had been two months, and you still hadn’t said those three little words back to Eddie.

He didn’t pressure you. He never once brought it back up, never once pressured you. But just because he wasn’t constantly reminding you vocally that he loved you didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You’d felt it, impossible to miss, when all those lazy morning fantasies became reality. You felt it during movie marathons and you felt it every time he’d worship your body. It was there — in the late nights, in the early mornings, in the dull afternoons. A wild thing unleashed in your gardens, all those vines you’d worked so hard to see flourish threatened to be torn up by impatient claws at the feeling growing rapidly in your chest every time you looked at him.

And slowly, surely, you knew that there was only so much longer that like could suffice in describing your feelings for Eddie.

You were falling, whether he was aware or not. You just needed to figure out the right moment for those three little words to unstick, to go from hot honey on your tongue to easy breaths between you two. He’s given you time, he’d filled the months you’d awarded him with making up for every previously bitter exchange, and yet you still couldn’t give him this. And you’re starting to believe maybe that’s why you couldn’t imagine telling your friends yet.

You sort of hated yourself for it.

You’re pulled back to reality once the salesman departs, no doubt into the back to grab Eddie’s choice of phone. You don’t even have to ask; you know he got the red one.

“Hey,” Eddie fully turns to you, bringing your knuckles to his lips in chaste kisses. Your stomach still kicks with flutters, your heart still warms at the gesture. Eddie’s affection has yet to lose novelty, “Where’d you go?”

“What do you mean?” you twist your face, “I was here the entire tim-“

“Not where’d you physically go,” he clarifies, letting your conjoined hands drop back to the sliver of space between your bodies, “Mentally. Where’d your mind just go?”

You hadn’t thought he’d notice your drifting.

“Nowhere,” you shrug off.

“Nowhere? So you’re really just that interested in the newest iPhone model?”

He pointedly looks up at the widescreen display you don’t doubt you’d been blankly staring at the entirety of his conversation with the man who had yet to return.

“Oh, absolutely. You know me so well.”

All bark, no bite. These days, all the previous venom that had infected exchanges with Eddie prior to the bet had finally been sucked clean from the wound, long gone to make room for all the genuine affection to seep into its place. You still argued — or perhaps bantered was a better word for it — but you didn’t fight. You both still grated on one another’s nerves and managed to slither beneath the other’s skin, but not in an unwelcome way.

It was a nice change.

It made you hate yourself even more for not saying those three little words.

Eddie seemingly reads your mind, “Are you nervous for tonight?”

“I-“ you consider lying to him and saying it hadn’t even crossed your mind, but the look he gives you warns against it, “We just haven’t… discussed it.”

“What’s there to discuss?”

You hold up your interlocked hands for emphasis, raising your eyebrows at Eddie.

His mouth falls open softly, eyes widening, “Oh. Are you- Are you wanting to tell them tonight?”

No, your gut screams, absolutely not tonight.

“Is Argyle’s birthday party really the best time to explode their minds?”

You try to keep your tone teasing as you sense Eddie’s own nerves creeping up. Sometimes it was fun, standing in a room with everyone and pretending to be more akin to strangers than lovers. But sometimes, it was just plain painful. Sometimes, the entire group would be laughing at something, and you craved nothing more than to be pressed into Eddie’s side and feel the vibrations of his shared joy rather than just having to listen to it from across the room.

It’s not that you wanted to tell your friends and cause a scene — you just didn’t want to have to hide anymore. And maybe you wouldn’t have to, if you’d just tell him how you felt.

“Probably not,” Eddie murmurs, “I mean, it’s his night. We can always tell them the next time we all get together.”

The issue is that’s what the two of you always say. You always brush it off for the next time.

You can only sigh in defeat as you see the salesman finally bounding back out from the back room, a small box holding Eddie’s purchase in his grip, “Yeah. Next time.”

You can’t even be mad at next time. It’s the same thing you tell yourself every time you felt those words on the tip of your tongue, so close yet so far from revealing the most terrifying truth you’d discovered yet to Eddie.

You let go of his hand long enough for him to check out, hardly overhearing when he questions how they can transfer all the data from his current flip phone. When he seems particularly worried about pictures transferring, you don’t think anything of it.

—

STEVE-O: do i need to pick you up tonight?

You don’t see the text. You’re a bit busy with something when it comes through.

Something is currently still between your legs, curls threaded between your fingers as your back arches off his mattress and his name starts to come out as a desperate whimper rather than a chant.

STEVE-O: ???

The initial buzz of your phone on his nightstand doesn’t phase either of you. Eddie’s tongue still works you eagerly, circling your clit as you tug particularly harshly at his roots. Each flick sends white hot pleasure through your bones, nearly making you see stars.

“Fuck,” you gasp out when he brings his fingers into the mix. You can feel his smile against you as he curls his fingers inside of you, mimicking a come hither motion and relishing in your little pants as your thighs tighten around his shoulders, “Oh, fuck. Right there, Eddie. I- Eddie.”

The way you’re moaning his name only encourages him as he slips in a second finger, stretching you further. You feel cool metal bumping your entrance, sending shocks up your spine as his lips suction against you and he sucks hard.

He hadn’t even taken the time to remove his rings when the two of you had gotten home. He had been too eager, dragging you to his bedroom with his lips attached to your neck from the moment he’d shut the front door behind the two of you until he’d thrown you down on his bed.

“That’s right, baby,” his voice vibrates against your clit, “Say my name. Tell everyone who’s making you feel this goo-“

STEVE-O: helllooooo????

“Okay, who the fuck keeps texting you?” Eddie finally pulls back when he realizes you’re slipping out of that bubble he’d created, your head having turned towards the nightstand in curiosity, “Let me guess, it’s your other boyfriend?”

Your head is still spinning and your chest continues to heave from that lingering pleasure he’d been offering so generously to you. He sounds annoyed, but you can guarantee you’re even more irked.

“I don’t have another boyfriend,” you blandly reply, not taking his bait.

It only makes him wrap his hands around your thighs on his shoulder, giving a playful squeeze as you reach out for your phone.

“You sure?”

You squint at the notifications, but don’t properly read them, only rolling your eyes at both the fact that Steve’s the one interrupting this precious moment and at Eddie’s valiant teasing.

You slam the phone back down, eyes trailing down to his, “I am, but I can certainly find another boyfriend if you don’t get your mouth back on me in the next three seconds-“

He doesn’t need a second warning. In an instant, the warmth of his tongue is back on you, lapping at all the spots he’s come to memorize as of recently. That pleasure comes back into reach, edging your vision with feathery black as your eyes flutter shut and the coil in your stomach tightens.

You throw your head back into one of his pillows, one that has started to smell like your shampoo now rather than his, and let a drawn out whine escape your lips.

“You were saying?” he teases, grinning wickedly. He takes that brief moment to come up for air, turning and sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thigh beside his cheek. Not hard enough to draw blood, and probably not hard enough to leave indents. But it is enough to have you preening once more as your heels dig into his bare back and you try to lift your hips, desperate for his mouth again.

He was edging you. Without even meaning to, he was repeatedly bringing you to the edge only to leave you teetering.

With your focus back on him, you can admire how pretty he looks. Mouth slick with you, pupils blown out, hair an absolute mess. You like him best this way, you think, when he looks so absolutely devoted to you. When he’s looking at you with a hunger you almost can’t place. It makes you want to scream from the rooftops about how you’ve fallen for him. How you feel so much more than like for your boy.

STEVE-O: seriously. if you don’t respond, you can just walk. you have five minutes.

At the buzz of the phone, your hands leave Eddie’s hair to form fists, pounding them into the mattress at your side in a brief tantrum. He ceases all actions, pulling his lips away from you again, and it only makes you pout more.

“Baby,” he coos, fingers trailing up the sides of your thighs before he reaches out to hold your fists down, “Maybe you should answer him. Tell him to fuck off-“

Eddie’s interrupted as your phone fully bursts to life with your ringtone.

You were going to kill Steve Harrington.

“On second thought, let me answer it,” Eddie groans as you reach out and grab it once more, “Give the fucker a piece of my mind.”

“Shut up,” you hiss as you realize it’s Robin calling. You turn the screen so he can see, and his eyebrows lift in surprise.

He makes no move to remove himself from between your legs, though. He stays face to face with your aching core.

“Hello?” you snap after swiping to answer.

“Finally! My God, Steve’s been texting you-“

“I didn’t see the texts.”

“Do you need a ride?”

“Nope.”

You’ve never been so short with your friends.

But that pleasure is slipping from you, the flames of your impending orgasm dying down to nothing more than embers. It’s enough to piss anyone off.

“Are you sure?” Robin asks, sounding genuinely concerned, “It’s kind of a far walk-“

“I’m running late,” you sigh, realizing that you were going to have to come up with a lie to get off the hook. Another thing you hated about the hiding — it led to your friendships being littered with dishonesty. Always a new excuse as to why you weren’t available, always feigning reasons as to why you didn’t reply to texts as timely as you used to. “With getting ready. I could- I don’t know, do you think Eddie might pick me up? Isn’t my dorm along the way to the bar from his place?”

At the mention of his name, he perks up. His cheek settles against the exact spot he had bit just moments before, nearly nuzzling into you as your free hand comes down to gently push back his bangs. On instinct, you find yourself soothingly pressing your fingertips in slow circles against his scalp. You’re nearly melting beneath his soft gaze, those big and wide eyes locked on you with bated breath.

“You want Eddie to pick you up?” you suddenly hear Steve exclaim in the background.

Your face scrunches up, a wrinkle forming across the bridge of your nose and between your brows. It’s so damn cute to Eddie that he can’t help but press a quick kiss to the skin he continues to lay into, beginning to smile as your absent-minded head massage continues.

So much more than like.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was on speaker.”

“Why do you want Munson to pick you up?” Steve ignores your sarcasm, voice sounding closer to the phone now, “He drives a motorcycle, you know. That’s dangerous.”

Eddie must be able to catch some of Steve’s shrill exclamation, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. You feel his curious hum against your skin and you don’t hesitate putting your own pesky friends on speaker.

“Motorcycles are not that dangerous,” you retort, and it makes Eddie have to hide a slight scoff into your thigh in an effort to stay silent. It was ironic that they cared about how safe it would be for you to ride with Eddie on his bike now, after that allegedly dangerous vehicle had been your main source of transportation for nearly two months now, “He has a helmet, right?”

“Isn’t your dorm the opposite direction of the bar from his place?” Robin questions, “I mean, I’m all for you asking lover boy if he’ll give you a ride but-”

Steve interrupts her flatly, “It’s making him go out of his way. Besides, he might have already left for the bar by now.”

You don’t know what to silently laugh at first. The assumption they were making that couldn’t be further from the truth, or Robin’s new nickname for Eddie.

Lover boy is fitting for him in this current position. He’s still latching onto your leg, cuddling you in every way he could from where he laid, staring at you and hanging onto your every last word. The poster boy for pathetically in love, he gives your leg another kiss, starting a fiery trail with his lips until he reaches your knee. It pangs in your chest, wondering if he can see your feelings also painted so obviously across your face.

“Steve,” you murmur, breath catching in your throat as Eddie’s lips linger in the ditch of your knee. It takes a second to remember you’re on the phone, “No offense, but Eddie hasn’t been on time to a single get together the entire time I’ve known him.”

Eddie reacts in real time to your insult, forcing an over-exaggerated offended look before he bites you again. This time, his teeth do leave an imprint from his nip, and it makes you slap a hand over your mouth to avoid yelping.

Don’t bite me, you mouth at him.

Don’t be mean, he answers right back, silent as ever.

“Technically we’re all already late,” Steve points out. It makes you sit up quickly, startling Eddie in the process. You squint at the clock across the room and- fuck. Steve was right, “Nancy just texted me that she and Jon are there, Argyle’s on his way. She said she tried texting Eddie but didn’t get any response,” there’s a long pause as you motion wildly for Eddie to get up with you, the boy watching as you fling yourself off his mattress and carry the phone with you to his dresser, “Have… you heard from him recently?”

“Why are you saying it like that?” you jab, throwing open one of the drawers Eddie had cleared out for you to keep some clothes here in his apartment. At this point, a good chunk of the tuition you paid was going to waste considering the fact you rarely spent the night at your dorm. You were already half moved into Eddie’s space.

You try not to think too hard about it, because just last week, you’d had a panic attack at the revelation.

You were afraid of smothering him, even if he was the one always insisting you could leave more of your things here. He was always the one conning you into spending another night, promising soft murmurs of giving you a ride to class the next morning if you did. You rarely ever had much of the choice in the matter; once he’d wrap his arms around your waist, curl his body flush against yours, it was always game over.

Practically living together, and you still hadn’t said those words back to him.

“I’m not saying it like anything!” Steve defends himself, “I’m just asking an innocent question!” Eddie’s snort this time is audible, and you freeze as Steve clearly mistakes it for your laughter, “Shut up. It’s a reasonable question. You guys are friends now, remember?”

Friends. Of course, because all your friends jumped at the chance to bury their mouths against your cunt and make you cum repeatedly until you had tears streaming down your cheeks. Because you let all your friends sleep in the same bed as you, and wake you up by burying deep within you as they bite your shoulder with a moan. You and Eddie were friends.

“Trust me,” you glance over your shoulder in your haste, looking at Eddie as he stretches out on his side and props himself up on his elbow, “I remember.”

He gives you a knowing smile, squinting his eyes at you in entertainment.

“Babe, it really would just be easier for you to ride with us,” Robin’s voice sounds again as you tug a shirt out of the drawer, something casual and comfortable that you could style for the night, “Unless you’re just hellbent on having alone time with Eddie for some reason-”

“I’m not hellbent on being alone with him, Robs.”

Another lie. I definitely am. But not in the context you think.

“You just sound like you are.”

“Well, I’m not,” you yank a pair of black jeans free from the drawer and slam it shut, standing and turning to Eddie.

He hardly has time to react before you’re tossing your phone down on the mattress in front of him, the small device bouncing and hitting his chest. He winces and throws himself back dramatically, letting out a small oof that you pray neither Robin or Steve pick up on.

As you dress, throwing on the random t-shirt and shimmying on your jeans, Robins laughs, “Denial isn’t a good look on you.”

Eddie watches you, never moving to get ready himself. All he does is stare as you button up the pants.

When you give him an expectant look, he merely mouths, bra?

You shake your head. You don’t know where Eddie had flung your undergarment, and you’re not in the mood to frantically search for it. You’ve gone without a bra before – you can survive one night out without one.

Eddie’s entire face and chest immediately flushes pink. Cute.

“Now you guys are just being assholes,” you scowl despite the fact that only Eddie can see it, waving your hands to motion for him to get up and also get dressed, “I’m texting Eddie. If he has already left, I’ll just walk. Fuck you guys.”

“Tell lover boy I said hi,” Robin teases.

“Even if he’s already parked at the fucking bar at this point, we both know he’d jump right back on his bike and come pick you up,” Steve’s voice grumbles over the line.

It almost makes you smile. “Someone sounds jealous.”

“Not jealous, just annoyed,” Steve corrects as Eddie finally stands from the bed, “When are you two going to get your shit together?”

“What do you mean?” you play dumb.

You’ve had this conversation with your friends multiple times. They were truly going to have your head once they realized what you’d been keeping from them for months now.

“Don’t you have a 4.0 GPA?” Robin inserts herself back into the conversation, “You can’t possibly be this stupid.”

Eddie pauses in his fumbling with pulling his jeans from the pile he’d left his clothes in at the end of the beg, face scrunching in silent laughter. You almost walk over and smack his bare back angled towards you.

“First of all, no. I don’t have a 4.0 GPA. Thanks for the reminder,” you grab your phone back off of the bed and decide to leave Eddie behind in the room, heading into the bathroom to finish getting ready. You hate to admit it, but if you have to keep watching him giggle so cutely to himself, you’ll also probably break. And you aren’t in the mood for any further interrogation from Robin and Steve, “Second of all, I’m hanging up now. I’m going to call Eddie. At least he won’t be such a dick to me.”

“Oh, you must see the irony there-”

You cut Steve off, “Bye! See you in… like, ten minutes.”

Once you’ve hung up, you put your phone down on the bathroom counter and look up into the mirror. Your hair is a mess, wild and tangled from all the writhing you had been doing before being so rudely interrupted. You give it your best effort, trying to tame it a little bit to look more presentable, but it’s a lost cause at this point. Fuck it.

Eddie appears in the doorway behind you, fully dressed and his hair pulled back into a bun, leaning into the door frame with his arms crossed and an impish grin on display, “Oh, you’re going to call me now, sweetheart?”

You glare at him in a jocosely manner through the reflection, “Don’t look so proud of yourself.”

He pushes off the frame and comes up behind you, still locking his eyes only through the reflection as he leans his chin over your shoulder, “And what if I don’t want to give you a ride? You have been awfully mean – insulting my punctuality, throwing your phone at me, teasing me by going without a bra. The list goes on and on.”

Something deep within you stirs, those embers that still ache to burst into a forest fire. You hate that you could easily spend the entire night here with him, letting him take you every which way between his sheets. And even without sinful actions involved, you would be plenty content with just his presence tonight. As a matter of fact, you might be more content with that outcome rather than heading out to see your friends.

Sorry Argyle, you think guiltily.

“I’m teasing you?” you question just as his hands land on your hips, moving so that he was pressed firmly against the curve of your ass. Making sure you could feel how hard he was against the seam of his jeans’ zipper, “You didn’t even make me cum.”

“Seems like we’ll both be spending the night frustrated, then,” he smiles, almost gleefully, almost devilishly, “Besides, that was technically Harrington’s fault, not mine. We both know I usually have no problems making you cum on my tongue – without interruptions, of course.”

He rolls his hips ever so slightly into you, and your mouth falls open, eyes going glossy as you continue to stare him down through the mirror. The stirring in your abdomen is persistent now as your heart hammers against your ribs, mind melting and completely forgetting the obligation at hand.

And Eddie knows this. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you, and it’s deliberate.

Suddenly, his body completely pulls away from yours, “I’ll meet you downstairs. Don’t want to keep them waiting any longer, do we, sweetheart?”

Damn him. Damn him, and damn his dimples, and damn how good his legs look in those jeans as he’s walking away from me right now.

You linger in the apartment, alone, for a few extra minutes to compose yourself. Trying to quelch the heat between your hips that had slowly spread across your entire body, threatening to consume you. You even go as far as to splash cool water across your cheeks, giving yourself a few smacks for good measure as you try to prepare yourself to go into public and put on the usual act. And beneath it all, you also hush the animal in your chest, the one that claws at you to tell him. The one that wails everytime you simply tell him you like him, the one that roars when you let another moment slip you by. It has to quiet, just as your flames need to settle, all for the sake of the act.

You deserve a goddamn Oscar at this point.

After deciding that touching up your makeup would take up far too many precious seconds, you’re darting out of Eddie’s apartment, locking up behind yourself before you head down to where he’s waiting. He’s already straddling his parked bike, the engine roaring to life like the animal inside you as you exit the main doors of the building and his hands extend his only helmet. You don’t fight him on who’s going to wear it – that’s a battle, you’ve learned, you will always lose.

We really need to just buy a second helmet.

The thought makes you smile as you hold the clunky thing. Buying a second helmet. Something Eddie had never done before, because he had never had a regular passenger before. He had never had someone glued to his side as you had become, not even Nancy. It sounds terribly domestic; perusing aisles with him, debating which helmet fits your style best. He’d probably make a joke about your head being big. He’d probably tease you for looking at the ridiculously expensive ones and tell you to opt for a cheaper one. You’d probably end up with a pricier one in the cart regardless, and Eddie would probably refuse to let you pay for it.

Domesticity. The image of it doesn’t ache like it had that night all those months ago. This isn’t something you yearn for hopelessly, smoke and mirrors that dissipate when you dare to reach out for it. It’s something finally in your grasp. Something tangible and something bound to happen, all you’d have to do is say the word and Eddie would comply eagerly.

Anything to keep my girl safe, as he would tell you any time you pointed out how dangerous it was for him to go without a helmet. He’d gotten creative in saying his own version of those three little words.

“M’lady,” he hums, nodding for you to put the helmet on before sweeping a hand over the empty space in the seat behind him, “Your chariot awaits.”

You don’t have a snarky quip to throw back at him, only grinning at the ground as you flip the helmet around a few times to prepare to put it on. All those embers aren’t just desire for him – there’s a warmth there that always exists. A candle on the windowsill of the home you had finally found.

You raise the clunky thing and tilt your head when Eddie suddenly says, “Oh, and babe?”

Immediately, you lower it, eyes wide in curiosity, “What?”

“That’s my shirt.”

“What?”

He motions to the t-shirt tucked carefully into your jeans, “That fine shirt you are currently wearing is mine.”

You look down, and he’s right. It’s too late to go back inside to change, and you know he’s aware of this when you catch his amused smirk. He probably noticed the moment you had put it on, and had deliberately waited until it was too late for you to do anything about it to inform you.

Bastard.

“I-” you pinch the fabric between your fingers, looking between it and Eddie wildly for a second before your shoulders slumped in defeat, “It’s fine. I doubt they’ll even notice.”

—

You were wrong. They do notice.

Everyone is already waiting inside for the two of you, nestled around a table in the bar in a similar arrangement to the very first night you’d been introduced to the group. There’s only two empty seats left conveniently, right next to each other. You don’t miss that mischievous look of success on Robin’s face as she looks overly proud of herself.

They’d set it up so we’d sit next to each other.

You’re grateful for your friends’ antics until you go to take the empty seat next to Steve.

“Is that Eddie’s shirt?”

Robin is leaning around Steve eagerly as she says it, ridiculing the shirt intensely.

“What?” you laugh nervously, looking down and tugging at the fabric.

Lie. Make up a lie. Make it good.

“That is Eddie’s shirt,” Nancy looks surprised across the table, looking up at the two of you questioningly.

“What?” you repeat yourself. Eddie has already taken his seat, and is avoiding the stares of everyone, “No, it’s not.”

“He has one just like it,” Jonathan adds fuel to the fire, “He literally wore it - what? Two days ago?”

In a pathetic attempt of an excuse, you plop down in your seat and force an offended look, “People can own the same shirt. He’s not the gatekeeper of-” you look down, and nearly erupt in embarrassment when you see what the shirt is. “Deftones.”

Ah, fuck.

It’s not just the embarrassment of being on the verge of getting caught in your lie – it’s the memories that flood back. You, on Eddie’s lap. Your mouth and his becoming one. Steve calling, and you sucking so innocently on Eddie’s neck.

Fuck.

You really wish Steve and Robin hadn’t interrupted earlier.

“It’s not like I got it at a show,” Eddie shrugs, and you wonder for a moment if he’s lying, “They’ve gotten more popular lately. I’ve seen their shit in Target.”

“Exactly!” you exclaim a little too loudly, a little too quick to defend yourself, “Exactly. I just thought it looked cool at Target. Besides, tonight is about Argyle.”

You smile at the birthday boy, and he returns the joy as he waves a little at you. The reminder is all it takes for everyone’s attention to return to the focus of the night – everyone’s attention but Nancy’s.

You can feel her eyes on you as conversation sparks up and debates of ordering shots begin. Everyone is busy asking Argyle what his plans for next weekend are – which are mostly composed of normal family gatherings, probably a homemade cake, etc. – but Nancy is watching you and Eddie like a hawk. In the peripheral of your eye, you watch the way she leans back so casually into Jonathan's around her shoulder, looking like she knows. You’re probably just being paranoid. You’re definitely just being paranoid.

You try to ignore it, and instead let yourself just enjoy the moment. All your friends gathered, a group in which you finally feel like you belong to, jokes being made and laughter being exchanged that has you feeling a bit giddy. It’s nice. Even between the smoke of the room and the flickering lights overhead, murmuring chatter of nearby patrons mingling right in with your group’s noise, it’s homely. The smell of drunken cigars and fruity cocktails should be overwhelming, but you just let it wrap you up instead.

And when you turn your head, inhaling deeply the smell of cinnamon and musk rather than all those other foreign anomalies, you find Eddie already looking at you. Soft eyes, bitten grin, a few loose curls framing his cheeks as his bangs curl up into his forehead. Even in the shoddy lighting, he takes your breath away.

He’s looking at you. Just like that first night. Dozens of other people in this room at this moment, and he only has eyes for one – he only has eyes for you.

“So!” Argyle announces, “I think, my dudes, instead of doing what Birdie had so… excitedly suggested,” and oh, he was being generous and calling Robin suggesting he took twenty three shots for his twenty third birthday just her being excited rather than foolish, “We should just take the twenty three shots and split them up amongst the group.”

Steve and Jonathan immediately groan, protesting how they’re driving, and Eddie only shakes his head with a chuckle. So far, he’d only ordered and been nursing on a plain coke, no whiskey.

Somehow, sitting beside him with the group is worse than keeping distance.

When he’d taken off his jacket, you’d silently begged for him to rest an arm across the back of your chair just as Jonathan was doing to Nancy. And he had, almost too naturally before he’d caught himself. It would have been easier to play off cooly, probably would have gone unnoticed, but your boy had practically jumped out of his bones as he’d flinched and tucked his arm back into himself suddenly. He’d even bumped his elbow against his own seat in his haste.

And Nancy had noticed.

“That’s only three shots per person!” Argyle defends, “Four for me, since you know – birthday boy.”

While Eddie may be avoiding alcohol tonight, you aren’t. Not unusual, but it had been odd when Eddie had told the waitress your order of an amaretto sour rather than you telling her yourself.

Another strike. Another thing Nancy had noticed with her watchful eye.

“I’m down,” you shrug, “Hell, I’ll even take an extra shot if those two dumbasses won’t.”

“Is that a good idea?”

You wish Eddie had been drinking to excuse his idiocracy. Because all it takes is him saying that, not with malice but with concern, and the look on Nancy’s face told you she was officially catching on.

He hadn’t said it with the concern of a friend prepared to warn against drinking yourself sick. He’d said it with the concern of someone who would be taking care of you by the end of the night, of someone who would be dealing with the aftermath of that many shots.

You two were bombing this whole secrecy, to put it lightly.

You try to save the moment but laughing it off, turning to him slightly and teasing, “What, are you my keeper now?”

Despite your best efforts, the statement doesn’t come across as friendly banter. It’s not quite fighting either. It’s a dare, you dangling something in Eddie’s face that no one else at this table quite sees. A stupid, idiotic continuation of your flirtatious game of cat and mouse from earlier in the apartment, when he’d deliberately gotten you hot and bothered. When he’d deliberately let you leave in his shirt. His palm is warm when he shifts ever so slightly, placing it on your thigh beneath the table. Out of sight from everyone else. Fueling and fanning all your growing flames.

You two were toeing a very dangerous line tonight.

His eyes darken a bit, and you pray no one else notices in the dim bar lighting, “I don’t know, am I?”

Everyone is distracted enough with your idea. Steve and Jonathan were agreeing, saying they could take one shot and then others in the group could shoulder the extras. Robin was quick to also say she’ll take an extra one. But Nancy is silent, watching your quiet exchange with Eddie.

“I don’t think you are, Munson.”

Except he is. Without a single doubt in your bones, you know that he is.

Your playful smile betrays you. It tugs up the corners of your mouth and it’s clear to any outsider this wasn’t a brewing argument. The game was obvious if anyone was watching close enough. And Nancy, ever the smart one, was watching close enough.

She’s playing her cards right, you realize, when she waits until the group has ordered the round of shots to say anything.

“So, Eddie,” she begins, drawing the entire group’s attention to her best friend, “Do anything fun today?”

He nearly chokes on his coke subtly. “I- Um-”

“You just didn’t answer any of my texts today,” she continues on, “Must have been busy, yeah?”

Eddie retracts his hand from your thigh, far more elusive in this action than he had been about removing his arm from your chair, before he fiddles with his hands in his lap. “Yeah – no, yeah. Sorry about that, Nance.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket for no apparent reason. The shiny new smartphone, having not even bought a case or screen protector yet. You’d already yelled at him for that, claiming out of everyone, you trust him the least to not break the phone on the first day. He’d only laughed and shut you up with a kiss.

His new phone is placed face down on the table, cherry red glinting, “I just had to go to the mall and-”

“Is that a new phone?” Argyle interrupts him, catching sight of the movement and the glinting, “Oh, holy shit, my dude! That’s a new phone! That is an iPhone if I’ve ever seen one!”

Everyone – Robin, Steve, Jonathan – are rapidly leaning to catch sight of it as if they can’t believe it. Eddie continues to shrink at being the center of attention suddenly.

“It is,” Steve laughs in disbelief, “Never thought I’d see the day, Munson.”

Robin scrunches her face, “Does this mean we have to add him to the group chat?”

You let out a giggle at that, lips pressed to try and contain some of that smile breaking through as you look at him and wiggle your brows. He immediately rolls his eyes, but picks up the phone regardless to give everyone a better look.

“Yes, yes. I’ve finally joined the dark side,” he teases everyone just as the waitress returns with the tray of shots. Jonathan is the only one with enough sense to look away from Eddie’s spectacle, thanking her kindly, “Feast your eyes, my friends, for this is where my five hundred dollars went-”

“Holy shit.”

Nancy’s sudden whisper of an exclamation has everyone freezing. Eddie stops spinning and flipping the phone to show it off, staring at her with nothing but concerned, “What? What happen-”

Nancy shares a look with Robin as they both grin.

Oh no.

“Eddie,” Nancy says slowly, turning her head back his way slowly.

“What?” Eddie frowns, eyes flitting back and forth between Nancy and Robin.

Robin is the one to ask the question rather than Nancy, “What exactly is your lockscreen?”

Eddie goes pale. You’re confused, looking at the phone he’s currently cradling with the screen against his palm.

Did he even change it? Wouldn’t it just be one of the default ones?

“Guys,” you decide to come to his rescue, still impossibly confused, “It’s probably just some default screen, don’t tease him.”

“That was not a default screen,” Nancy laughs out.

Argyle looks around at everyone. Nancy and Robin, both with mischievous glints in their eyes. Eddie, still ghostly white as if he’s been caught red-handed. Steve and Jonathan, both just shrugging at each other. “Uh…. Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”

“Show the class your lock screen, Eds.”

“Fuck off, Nancy.”

“Oh my God,” Robin coos, leaning across Steve and pressing you back gently to catch sight of Eddie, who’s dipping his face down, “He’s blushing!”

“Guys, leave him alone,” Steve insists, sharing a look with you now. But you have no clue what’s going on.

You have no clue what his lockscreen is.

“Edward Munson, show us that lockscreen right now, or I’m Venmo-requesting five hundred dollars from you,” Robin continues to threaten.

You look away from Steve and at Eddie immediately, leaning in closer to his space. He looks at you, clearly focusing on your presence more than everyone else’s, and smiles like a child trying to get out of trouble.

“Eddie,” you say quietly, almost impossible for your friends to hear, “What the fuck is your lockscreen?”

He slowly and carefully turns the screen towards you, making sure only your eyes can see it, and- oh.

It’s a low quality photo. Clearly taken on his flip phone. Details just a little fuzzy, and the darkness of the photo wasn’t helping. But you can see it clearly. You can make out exactly what it was that had Nancy and Robin losing their minds.

It’s a picture of you and Eddie, with your head on Eddie’s chest.

For a moment, everyone else at the table doesn’t exist. You hadn’t been insane that night – he had taken a photo. A snapshot of the moment where everything had changed. The moment in which you had given up the fight and completely succumbed to just how much Eddie meant to you, how badly you pined for him and how deeply you liked him.

“I was going to make it the one of you at Betty’s,” he whispers, “But, I just- I really liked this photo.”

He’s still tense, as if he expects you to be upset with him.

You’re the farthest thing from upset at him.

“You made me your lockscreen?” you breathe out, a slow-growing smile beginning to stretch your lips.

You’re not upset at him. As a matter of fact, you’re in love with him. You want to scream it from every rooftop, shout it to every stranger on the street – you are in love with Eddie Munson.

And you have been for a while. You just hadn’t found a way to tell him yet.

“Yeah,” he loosens up a little when he realizes you’re happy, enamored with the fact, “Yeah, of course I did. Who else am I going to make it besides my favorite…. Enemy?”

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear clearly. All of Nancy’s teasing has come to a halt, Robin has settled back into her chair, and Steve is finally looking too curious for his own good.

“As birthday boy,” Argyle breaks the moment, shatters away the bubble you and Eddie always seemed to end up in, “I am demanding I get to see this lockscreen.”

Eddie doesn’t make any move to show the screen to any other person, only watching you for approval.

Well, so much for next time.

You give him a little nod.

Eddie makes a dramatic show of it, sighing heavily before he very slowly turns his lockscreen to face everyone else. But even in his dramatics, you can see that weight lifting off his chest.

This, as a matter of fact, changes everything.

No more hiding, no more lying. One simple flash of his phone screen, of a photo he had taken on a night that no one has even been gifted the details of yet, and all your friends suddenly know.

The reactions all vary.

Argyle leans forward and squints before his face breaks out into pure joy for the two of you, “Oh, fuck yes! Best birthday gift ever. Pay up, my dudes!”

Jonathan leans backward, digging out his wallet as he murmurs, “Son of a bitch.”

Steve only smiles and shakes his head, also digging for his wallet as he seemingly chastizes himself, “I should have fucking known.”

“Hold on,” you look between everyone as Jonathan digs out a couple twenties, “Wait, did you guys fucking bet on this?”

“We did,” Robin answers you, holding up a hand to make Jonathan and Steve pause their retrieval of cash, “What do you take us for? Idiots? Now, gentlemen, before either of you payout, we’ve gotta ask the most important question,” she shoves a palm against Steve’s chest so that he’s out of line of sight, gaze set on you and Eddie, “When did this happen?”

You don’t have any time to be mad at your friends. Because when Robin asks you this, suddenly you’re back to two months ago. You’re outside your dorm with Eddie, kissing him as if tomorrow would never be promised, and you’re home.

You pulled back from Eddie finally, both of you gasping for breath as he held you steady. Your exchange from moments before still hung heavy in the air.

You liked him, you liked him, you liked him.

And the feeling was mutual.

You’d already known, but it was nice to hear. It was nice to be reminded that this, what had happened between you two, was so very real.

“I don’t wanna start over,” the words tumbled from your tongue before you could consider them, upheaving from your chest, desperate for Eddie to heard them, “I- I don’t need to start over. I like our story, okay? You had been right – it wasn’t all bad, and… and I don’t want to start over. I never want you to be a stranger again, and I know that sounds stupid-”

“It’s not stupid,” he interrupted you, forehead meeting yours, “So very not stupid.”

“I don’t care if you were a dick,” you continued on, carefully, “I was, too. We were both… shitty. I forgive you. I’ll forgive you a thousand times over, as long as you keep trying to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you?” he grinned playfully, “And just how do you suggest I start making it up to you?”

“Ask me out,” his eyebrows raised in surprise, and you knew you must have looked like a wild idiot to everyone else, but you didn’t care, “To dinner, to a movie, to just hang around your apartment with you for another twenty four hours – I don’t care. Just… Just please, Munson, ask me out.”

And so he had. A first date, a second date, a third. You two had gone through the entire ordeal of every cliche relationship despite the unconventional beginning. You’d gone to dinner, you’d gone to a movie, and you had done plenty of hanging out around his apartment and more.

“The night of the bet,” Eddie answers as he finally brings an arm up around your shoulders, just as he had wanted to earlier.

Immediately, both Robin and Argyle let out their own curses, pulling out their wallets just as Steve and Jonathan had.

You look between them, all the annoyance you should feel just being run over with adoration for these idiots. Your eyes land on Nancy, and when you realize she’s the only one at the table not coughing up any cash, you ask her, “I’m assuming you guessed correctly?”

“I did,” she nods, looking proud of herself.

“How’d you know?”

Nancy raises a threatening finger, before suddenly pointing it right in Eddie’s direction, “That idiot has always been down bad for you-”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie stops her, “I’ve already told her the nitty gritty details. No need to embarrass me.”

“No need to embarrass you?” Nancy asks in disbelief, “Good God, just how many times did I have to sit and listen to you pine for her? No, no – I have earned this, Munson.”

You look at Eddie, a glint in your eye, “You only told me about the first time.”

“I only remembered the first time,” he counters, blushing under yellow and faded lights, “I was usually dru-”

“Don’t lie,” Nancy stops him, “There were plenty of rants where you were dead sober.”

Everyone only smiles at Eddie, a few teasing comments made his way, but none of them matter as you lean into his side, your shoulder bumping his to the best of your ability with his arm still around you.

“Aw, babe,” you coo, warm all over for the man beside you, “You had a crush on me? That’s cute.”

His chin lowers, eyes boring into yours with unlimited affection. For a moment, it’s just you and Eddie. The guise of you two having your own bubble of a moment.

His head tilts further, his ears brushing your ear as he whispers for just you to hear, “So did you, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Not mistaken,” you whisper back. Money is now being exchanged, tossed across the table with grumbles that hold no heat.

Yeah, you did have a crush on Eddie. You still do. You don’t think you’ll ever stop having a crush on him, even as he’s surrendered himself as yours. Especially not when his thumb is stroking your shoulder as it is now.

Just like that very first night. The smoky bar fades to nothingness, your tunnel vision focused on Eddie. You know jokes are being made about the two of you by your friends, but it’s all white noise when he’s looking at you like this. Like you’re everything to him, like he’s just returned home after a long week.

You’d really like to be his home to return to after every long week, for the rest of your lives, but there’ll be time to ponder on that later. For now, you two have time.

The voice inside your head suddenly comes to life as it recognizes that this is your moment. You can tell him. Now that you’ve told everyone else, you can tell him those three words. Finally get them off your chest. Make it real.

“Hey, Munson,” you say, still quiet enough for the words to only reach his ears. He perks up, eager to drink your next words. You have all his attention. You always have all his attention, “I-” and then you choke. He stares curiously for a few seconds, and the words just won’t come out. You want to scream – you wonder if it would work if you screeched the three words at the top of your lungs. Probably not, “I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me,” a pathetic excuse at a coverup, “And… I’m really glad they made that first bet.”

He smiles so softly, it strikes you right in the center of your chest. Right amongst your garden that not only had you tended for him, but that he had also had a hand in watering these last few months.

You should have told him. You love him, and you should have told him.

“I’m really glad I didn’t hate you, too,” he remarks, squeezing your shoulder a little tighter, “Actually, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Not anymore, at least.”

“I never really did.”

“You definitely sort of did. You tried to take me out with a glass, remember?”

You burst into secluded laughter, hearing your friends beginning to pass around the shots but paying them no mind.

Eddie can’t help it. He pulls you in close, placing an impulsive kiss to your temple and letting his lips linger there. Just pressed against you, breathing in the scent of you.

That kiss sends shivers down your spine, warmth through the center of your bones. You love him.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

So why can’t you just tell him that?

“Aw!” Robin pulls the two out of your bubble, “Aren’t they just adorable?”

“Yes, yes,” Steve passes two shot glasses down to your end of the table, “Absolutely adorable. It’s nauseating. Also, I’d like to go on record – I totally knew the entire time. I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.”

“Playing the Devil’s advocate?” Argyle asks, lining up his multiple shots, “I dig it. Even though you’re totally lying right now.”

“You’re so lucky it’s your birthday, dude,” Steve rolls his eyes, clearly holding back an insult.

Eddie’s arm stays heavy on you, a welcome weight as you sit up straighter to take your own several shots.

These were your friends. Somewhere you belonged, filled with people you loved and a boy you could come home to after all your long weeks. A certain happiness that is rare, and impossible to place, and can nearly bring you to tears overwhelms you as you grab that first shot.

“Also-” Steve turns to you and Eddie, “I knew that was Munson’s shirt. The day he got it, all he did was brag about what a rare find it was. Fuck off with your Target bullshit.”

Eddie’s hand leaves your shoulder long enough to reach out and thump Steve, laughter booming and vibrating against you, “Sure you did, Stevie.”

“Target has some nice things,” Nancy offers with a shrug, now holding her own shot glass.

The seven of you all hold up the first of what will probably be too many shots tonight, the beginning of a night that will probably be remembered through killer hangovers tomorrow and possibly even captured on camera by the likes of Jonathan, Steve, and Eddie.

“To Argyle,” you take the lead on the cheers, jittery and anxious as all the love you continue to withhold buzzes in your chest, lifting your small glass in his direction, “The most lovable twenty three year old I know.”

Everyone moves to drink, but Argyle immediately shakes his head, “Nah, fuck that. It’s not even my birthday yet – I demand a new toast.”

He lifts his brows, staring you down and silently adding, you know what to do.

And yeah, you did know what to do.

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, leaning further forward, Eddie’s arm following. You relish in the tense silence as everyone waits for what you’re about to say instead. Even Eddie is waiting with bated breath, watching your every move, a contrasting yet easy smile on his face, “To bets.”

A booming applause from your group. Glasses tapping against the wooden table before shots are downed. Groans of disgust as the tequila hits everyones’ tongues.

Eddie hardly waits before you’ve both swallowed to remove his arm and grab your face, turning your cheek so that his lips can capture yours. Everyone only cheers louder, Steve letting out an obnoxious whistle as Argyle claps. You’re surely going to get kicked out of the bar at this rate. But you really don’t care as you kiss your boy back.

Next time. You have to tell him next time.

—

The night ends in more of a whisper than a bang, surprisingly.

Everyone has suddenly become a happy drunk, probably from all the love and good news passed around throughout the night. It’s all warm feelings and warm hugs, tequila on the breath and love on the mind.

You don’t even get kicked out of the bar. Your waitress only smiles at your rowdy table from time to time, and you figure that all the good vibes must be rubbing off on her.

Steve is the first to call it quits. Robin has drank enough to give herself the hiccups, and he says that after that, she almost always gets viciously nauseous. He wants to get in the car and home before she gets to the point, for the sake of his car’s interior not getting covered in puke.

It’s a domino effect from there.

Argyle quickly agrees, Jonathan offers a guiding arm to Nancy, and Eddie’s arm only tightens around you. The group closes out the tab, putting off worries of everyone paying Jonathan back until tomorrow. Quick, simple, painless.

Until you all get outside. And goodbyes are exchanged – that’s not the part that gets to you – with promises of seeing each other throughout the week. Everyone congratulates you and Eddie one more time for good measure, Nancy and Steve looking the most proud of you two as Argyle and Robin giggle like children about it. And it’s fine – you laugh along and it’s all good. You let them get in all their I told you so’s and know it’s all in good fun.

It’s all fine. Until you two branch off from the group, Eddie’s bike across the lot from everyone else’s cars.

The moment you two are alone, you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol or if it’s the levity of suddenly having a moment that only belongs to you. Your mind wastes no time of reminding you of your pathetic cop out: I’m just really glad you didn’t really hate me. None of those words even sound akin to the real ones you should have said.

I love you.

It’s not because your friends have found out. You know it’s not that, because just last week, right after your breakdown about whether you were smothering Eddie by half-living in his apartment, you’d had a breakdown because you realized you wanted to fully live in his apartment. You’d had a breakdown because you hadn’t grown tired of him yet, hadn’t satisfied the need to see his face every morning when you first wake up yet. You hadn’t gotten bored with all his lingering affectionate touches. You hadn’t gotten used to the way he’d kiss you in the middle of sentences. He was still taking your breath away, two months later, and you had a breakdown because you realized it wasn’t novelty or a pathetic crush making you feel this way.

You had a breakdown because you love Eddie.

You love him, ardently so, and you still can’t find the right moment to say those words to him. He deserves to know – the entire foundation of this relationship was honesty.

It’s all you can think about as his hand finds yours and he’s walking up to his bike, practically dragging you up to his bike as your legs forget how to work amongst nerves.

“So, I was thinking,” he carries on conversation so casually, “You want to spend the night at my place? I know you said you don’t have any class-“

Now. Not later, not next time. Now.

“Hey, Eddie?” you interrupt him, stopping the two of you a few paces away from his bike.

His face is impossibly concerned as he looks down at you, clearly reading the worry on your face, “What’s up, babe?”

Here goes nothing – be brave.

“I-”

Why is this so hard?

It shouldn’t be this hard, because loving Eddie is easy.

It’s easy when he’s looking at you like this, like he always does. It’s easy when he wakes up after you, and he comes into the kitchen to just wrap himself around you as you make him coffee, no matter what time of day it might be. It’s easy when he catches your eye from across the room during outings, sometimes winking once he knows you’ve found his gaze, just to see you laugh. It’s easy when he tries to distract you from homework when you’ve been spending far too many hours hunched over your laptop on his couch, coming and bugging you, laying his head on your lap and insisting his girl needs a break. It’s easy when he kisses you and everything just feels right.

It’s easy. He loves you – you love him. It isn’t hard. You’re making this hard, when it never was.

“I love you,” you admit quietly, voice shaking as the words leave you easily.

Loving Eddie is easy.

“I love you,” you say more surely, voice raising in volume as you find the willpower to look into his eyes, “I love you so fucking much, Eddie.”

Each time you say it, you gain confidence in it. It’s true – you love him. You love him so much, it encompasses every inch of your being. It entirely consumes you. You love him.

His face falls slowly, mouth agape and eyes boring into yours.

You don’t wait for his response. You already have it – in the way he’s still holding your hand, in the way he holds you at the end of each night, in the way he knows both your orders at bars and coffee shops. In the way he will always put himself between you and the street when walking down the sidewalk, in the way when he roughly stops his bike at stop lights that his hand always flies back to hold onto you. In every soft touch and every expression of devotion he has offered you for not just two months, but for over a year.

“You love me?” he softly asks, finally beginning to come back to life.

You nod without hesitation, “I love you, Eddie.”

Now that you’ve started saying it, you can’t stop it. And each time, it’s still heavy and sweet like honey, even as the confession comes as easy as breathing. It’s pouring from every crevice, filling up the night air around you.

He takes you off guard with a harsh kiss. His teeth colliding with yours, his breath stealing yours, his entire being molded with yours.

“Say it again,” he begs in a murmur as he pulls you in even closer, desperate as you break into a smile, “God, please say it again, sweetheart.”

“I love you,” your cheeks begin to ache, the kiss no longer even to be a considered a kiss as you two are just mindlessly pressing your smiles together, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” with each repeat of the sentiment, Eddie drinks it in, “I’m so fucking in love with you, Eddie Munson. You and your stupid lockscreen and-”

“You do not think my lockscreen is stupid,” he pulls away, raising his eyebrows as his palms squish your cheeks, “I saw the way you looked at me. You were eating that shit up.”

You bite your lip, trying to pull further away from him, but he won’t let you, “I was not-”

“You were,” he cheekily teases, eyes bright as he looks at you, “You were, and it was the best thing ever. Totally worth stealing Argyle’s spotlight.”

“We didn’t steal Argyle’s spotlight,” you try to defend yourself.

“We so did.”

You shake your head to the best of your abilities, face still between his hands, “We… Okay, we sort of did.”

He grins like a young boy, all his youth and all his love on show for you as he leans down, pausing right before pressing another kiss to your lips, “We definitely did. And it’s fair, because they fucking bet on us.”

“They did,” you agree, not even feeling guilty anymore, too consumed by the love for the man right in front of you, “They tend to do that a lot, don’t they?”

“They do.”

He finally surges forward, lips sealing against yours one last time. It’s less messy this time, more meaningful. A bit more patient as he takes the time to fit his lips into yours, just as they should be.

You have an audience. You’re completely oblivious until you hear the cheering from across the parking lot, snapping apart to both glance at where Argyle and Robin are jumping up and down, screaming their heads off.

“Hell yeah, my dudes!” Argyle’s voice booms as Robin only produces incoherent coos to echo.

Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan are all just watching silently, shaking their heads, but you can also see their grins. Almost as radiant as you felt.

Steve finally cups his hands around his mouth, sending his voice to you over Argyle’s continuing whooping, “Get a room!”

Perfectly in sync, you and Eddie both throw up a hand with your middle fingers raised in their direction, still half tangled in each other.

Your eyes find Nancy. She’s looking at you two with overwhelming pride, a certain satisfaction that breathes out the relief of finally. This may be a weight off not only your chest but Eddie’s as well, yet you can’t help but imagine just how she feels. How many nights she had stomached Eddie’s rambles about you leading up to this very moment. The pay off must be unimaginable.

Finally.

“Congrats on finally getting the girl, Munson!” she calls out, but her eyes are on you, winking.

You see it now. Why they’re best friends. How all her best parts and Eddie’s best parts overlap and compliment one another perfectly.

Jonathan is the final one to yell across the parking lot at you two, one arm slung around Nancy as the other moves to unlock his car, even his usually grumpy face showing signs of elation in that timid smile, “Now take your girl, home, dude. Spare the rest of us the gory details.”

Eddie’s laugh reverberates against you physically from how he holds you, also making its way to burrow deep within your chest where all that liquid bliss belongs, as he throws his entire head back and makes you finally focus on just him again. Home. Not just his apartment, but him. You realize now that it’s simply wherever he goes. Where he leads, you’ll follow. It could be a shitty dorm room with a mattress that leaves your back aching, it could be a comforting apartment that holds you ‘hostage’ for twenty four hours straight – it doesn’t really matter. Wherever he is, home is. He’s your home; you love him, he knows you love him, and he’s your home.

When his laughter finally fades, and he’s looking at you again, his dimples are prominent as ever through his whisper, “Just in case you’ve forgotten – I’m very much in love with you, too, sweetheart.”

His lips meet yours for good measure.

It’s been the longest week of your life, the longest year, but you’re finally home.

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

#twenty four hours #eddie munson #my writing #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #i cannot believe it's over holy shit #holy fucking shit #told y'all the photo would make a reappearance!#im resisting the urge to be so so sappy jesus christ

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apomaro-mellow · 9 months

Text

Wrong Number 2

Someone said they liked when authors put their super-specific jobs in fics so I hope ya like Steve havin a (kinda romanticized) past job of mine.

For the first time in his life, Steve felt like the stereotypical young person who was always glued to his phone. Every time it made a noise or vibrated, his arm shot out like lightning, hoping with every fiber of his being that it was the mystery number.

It had been about five days since he'd sent that first message and he'd been worried about their conversations being stale. But that wasn't an issue. The only times their talks lulled was when they went to bed.

And even that was after texting late into the night. Steve would watch the clock go from 9 to 10 and promise to get to sleep at a reasonable hour. And then it would be midnight and what was a few minutes after that? Then he'd look up and it would be 2 in the morning.

Texting this guy had become the highlight of Steve's days. To the point where he didn't even realize Friday had come until one of his students mentioned it.

Then, purely out of habit, he asked: "Any weekend plans?"

"I've got a soccer game", Zach answered.

"My parents are having date night", Belinda said.

And normally Steve himself would be thinking about going out and finding someone for the night. But the idea hadn't come to him for once. He knew why, but he didn't fully process it until he got home to Robin, who was in the middle of cooking breakfast for dinner it seemed.

Steve was in the middle of replying to a text sent during lunch.

(12:15) I just realized you know about my off the wall job (12:17) But I have no idea what your 9 to 5 is (12:18) Your legally required to tell me if ur famous (12:18) Not bc im a clout chaser (12:19) But bc I might not have a clue who you are

[4:13] Not famous. Don't worry. I'm a teacher.

(4:15) As a former student I apologize

Robin opened the cabinet, looking for pancake mix. “Are you and that girl still texting?”

“Me and the who?”, Steve looked up from his phone.

“That girl? I assume you're finally setting up a date for this weekend?"

"She-" Steve racked his brain for a good excuse. But it was hard to do when the person who knew him the most was staring right at him.

"Whatever flaws of hers you're about to make up, I'm gonna call bullshit because your phone hasn't stopped pinging for days." She started mixing the pancake batter.

Steve looked down at the words on his screen. The one flaw of this guy was that they couldn't meet in person. But maybe it was time to close the distance just a bit.

"She's shy. Might just text a bit more before she's ready."

[4:19] No need for sorries. All my kids are great. But that's probably because I teach their favorite class.

(4:21) Oooh their favorite? (4:21) It's gotta be something like art rite? (4:22) Or are you being a smart ass cuz you teach like calculus or something?

[4:23] I teach cooking 😛

(4:23) Oh shit. (4:24) You're actually the favorite

[4:25] Toldja. Hey quick question and then possibly many more questions.

(4:26) Go ooooon

[4:27] How would you feel about spending the night playing 20 questions? Like are you free tonight?

Eddie bit his lip as he looked at Steve's words. He had picked his shifts this weekend to make sure he had plenty of time to talk to Steve. Which meant he was in fact free tonight. He replied as such and Steve said he wanted a little time to take a shower and then he'd be ready.

And because he was a little shit, Eddie took advantage of him being away from his phone.

(4:35) Since you're in the shower, I'm taking the first question. Boxers or briefs?

[4:54] Cheater. And I prefer boxer briefs. My turn?

(4:55) Go for it

Eddie was curled up on his couch, tv low and in the background as he waited for Steve's question.

[4:55] What's your name?

(4:56) THATS your first question? (4:56) Wait we've been texting for days haven't you saved my number? (4:57) What do you have me as?

Steve bit his lip, wishing he could lie to this guy, but he couldn’t. Instead he sent a screenshot of his phone.

(4:59) Misty? That’s the name of the chick?

[5:00] Yeah. But I guess I should put your actual name now, right?

It was a gamble. But this guy already knew Steve’s name. And by this point they’d been texting for nearly a week. He just wanted to know his name. He pushed back the part of himself that said he needed to know.

(5:00) It's Eddie.

Eddie. The guy he'd been talking to was named Eddie. Eddie with the long curly hair and the chunky rings who threw axes for a living. He was a far cry from the soft girls he usually dated. Or the preppy guys he usually dated.

(5:02) Favorite bug?

The question threw Steve for a moment but he decided to humor him.

[5:04] Bees 🐝I like how fuzzy they are. And I like honey. [5:05] What rings do you have?

A couple minutes later, Eddie replied with an image. It was taken from above and showed his hands lying flat on a coffee table. Steve zoomed to make out the details of each ring. He was also able to see a watch and a couple of wristbands on him.

[5:08] How did you take that picture? With your mouth? 🦭

(5:09) Did you did you just compare me to a seal???

[5:09] What other animal catches things in their mouths?

'I can be an animal with my mouth'. Thankfully, Eddie's fingers weren't as fast as his brain and he didn't send that to Steve. Eddie had in fact put his phone in his mouth the take the picture, having a real 'no thoughts, head empty moment' when Steve asked about his rings.

Steve was letting his own mind wander as he gazed at the picture. Eddie's hands were...his hands were...well they were-

(5:10) Favorite youtuber?

The adoration of Eddie's hands were interrupted by Eddie himself as their question and answers continued. The picture continued as well. Steve sent pics of his favorite pair of shoes, his hair products, and of his neck when Eddie said he didn't believe he had all these moles.

Eddie had sent pictures of one arm, covered in tats, his acoustic guitar, and a super worn copy of Peter Pan.

The hour was growing late and both of them were feeling more bold but at the same time hesitant because it felt like they were close to crossing a line.

Needing an outside opinion, Eddie consulted with The Council (the discord server with his band mates) about whether or not he should shoot his shot. Gareth told him to go for it, what harm could it do? Grant said to do it because it could potentially be the funniest catfishing story. Jeff agreed that he should, if only because their guitarist getting murdered would be a great back story.

With their unanimous approval, Eddie decided to start actively flirting with Steve.

(8:37) Soooooo ya like jazz?

[8:38] I do actually. I really love the piano.

Okay, that one was just practice. Be smooth. Be suave. None of that was in Eddie's wheelhouse but thankfully nothing he said turned Steve away. He always seemed just as eager to reply back.

(9:10) What's your oldest piece of clothing?

Eddie was thinking of his own oldest article a t-shirt that had started out overgrown on his tiny eight year old body but he'd grown into and kept over the years. It was super faded but filled with the memory of the first time he spent more than a couple of days with his uncle.

[9:12] I'd show you, but I'm wearing them right now.

Steve had closed his bedroom door before sending the text. There wasn't anything scandalous but it seemed like it could very quickly veer into that territory. All Eddie had to do was ask. If he wanted to see them, Steve would show it.

'I would like to see it.'

(9:12) I would like to see it

Eddie knew it could be anything. Maybe a holey sock. Or maybe he also had a super faded t-shirt with deep sewn-in memories as well. Maybe he was wearing a class ring?

[9:14] image.jpeg

Eddie was treated (and goddamn what a treat it was) to Steve Harrington's bottom half, barely covered in shorts with a school's logo on them. Thick thighs covered in hair. And a bulge that was there. It was very there. Eddie couldn't overstate how there it was.

He palmed his own crotch before remembering he was looking at a guy's junk and about to jerk off to it in his living room. And he had yet to answer. What was the most respectful way to say 'humina humina humina-wolf whistle-awooga'?

(9:16) Are you trying to kill me Steve?

[9:17] Do you like it?

'Awooga.'

(9:18) ❤️‍🔥 🔥 🥵

Eddie tried to think of any other way to tell Steve how hot he made him but it felt like typing words just wasn't enough.

(9:19) Can I do something insane? (9:20) And feel free to ignore me if it's too much

Steve was lying in his bed, phone of his charger now. Nothing Eddie could do would be too much. He could knock on his door and he would let him in.

[9:21] Go ahead

A second after he sent that, Steve's phone started to ring. It was Eddie. He stared for about five seconds before picking up.

"Hey."

If possible, Steve melted more into his bed. Eddie's voice...he didn't know what he expected but it wasn't that. He said one word and Steve wanted to wrap himself in it.

"That was pretty naughty of you, sending me that pic. I could show up to your school."

"You'd be a few years too late. These are my oldest shorts, remember?"

"Tiniest shorts maybe."

Steve laughed and Eddie was on cloud nine. He was so lost in bliss, he miscalculated and fell off the couch.

"What was that?"

"I uh, I fell. Off my couch."

"Did you fall hard?"

Eddie beamed as he got up and turned off the tv. Now that he had his voice, all he wanted to hear was the man on the other line.

"Oh super hard."

Steve let out a sound from the back of his throat and he wondered if Eddie had heard it. It was honestly amazing how the smallest things got him going. Or maybe he was just that into Eddie.

"You still there Steve?"

....."Yeah. I'm still here."

Part 4

Tag Team (closed)

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface @fromapayphone @justmeinadaze @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @resident-gay-bitch @bestwifehaver @dangdirtydemons @ellietheasexylibrarian @perseus-notjackson @pyrohonk @holysteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @mrsjellymunson @geekymagicalpotato @notaqueenakhaleesi @phantomcat94 @ladylokilaufeyson5 @dude-as-in-i-love-u @micheledawn1975 @magpiemuseum @novelnovella @marklee-blackmore @stevesbipanic @martinskis-lydias @beckkthewreck @gay-little-bitch @everywherenothere @emma-elsa-0000 @rlpersephone3259 @songbird-garden @trucoop @omgshesinsane @fantrash @7-starboi @soulminyg @larawrmonster @blackpanzy @offical-potato @aellafreya @mightbeasleep @lorelei724 @moomkin77

If you were tagged but it didn't show up in your notifications, lemme know and I'll do that thing where I tag you in a reblog instead. I know tumblr can't be trusted to function XD

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #i wanted this out this past weekend #but had other things #anyway i used to work as a culinary instructor #it was for summer camps and after school programs #but my dream was to do it full time at a nice school #ohh the dreams we have in our youth

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solarmorrigan · 16 days

Note

69 + 27 for steddie :)

I got really stuck on this one for a bit, but it ended up being one of my favorites. Thank you for the prompt!

From the Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up list: 69. Flirting Under Fire + 27. Sick/Injured Fic

cw: canon-typical violence, mentions of injury

It’s a little bit like date night, really.

Like, in a twisted sort of way.

They get some time away from everyone else, they’re doing something together, they get to appreciate each other’s skills and competency – so what if the activity in question is patrolling Hawkins’ cracked and monster-infested streets? Times are tough, they take what they can get.

In any case, Steve has found he very much appreciates the chance to watch Eddie snipe demobats out of the sky, or take demodogs out with a well-aimed shot to what could dubiously be called the head (curly-haired brunets with guns; apparently Steve has a very specific type. Go figure). Eddie, in turn, has made no secret of how he enjoys seeing the power and strength in Steve’s swings when he takes on all manner of beasts with his trusty nailbat (Mark 2. Nailbat Mark 1 had unfortunately splintered some time ago, may it rest in peace).

And if they decide to go to bed immediately after showering off the muck and ash once they’ve gotten home, it’s because they’re tired from patrol. Obviously.

It’s possible, though, that they’ve gotten a little too complacent. They’ve had a string of easy patrols, picking off single demobeasts or taking out small groups with the ease that comes with practice. There haven’t been any surprises or mishaps, almost like the monsters have fallen into an easy pattern of their own.

Or maybe thinking like that is where Steve slips up.

Eddie whistles as Steve follows through on a swing that crushes the ribcage of the final demodog in the small pack, effectively taking it out of commission.

“Nice form, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve drawls, turning a warm smile on Eddie that takes any of the sting out of his teasing, “because you know so much about baseball.”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “Who’s talking about baseball?”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, still smiling. He’s never had someone lay it on so thick with him – he’s never had the blatant flirting and the silly nicknames and the entirely unsubtle once-over glances, and he kind of loves it. He loves Eddie, really, but even in the midst of a mini apocalypse, it’s probably too soon to go around declaring that.

Instead, he glances around at the monsters strewn on the ground, and then at his watch. It’s nearly midnight; they’ve been out for hours, and this is the only encounter they’ve had.

“Think we’re done for the night?” he asks

To his credit, Eddie does a quick check of the area before stepping in close to Steve. “I’m nowhere near done with you for the night, sweetheart,” he purrs, and a shiver runs down Steve’s spine.

“No?” he asks, gaze flicking down to see the way Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Nope. Let’s go home and I can show you what else I have in mind.”

Steve is so distracted by the idea, by the thoughts Eddie’s words conjure up, by Eddie himself, that he almost misses it – the movement right in the periphery of his vision.

Almost, but not quite.

As it is, he barely has time to bark out, “MOVE,” at Eddie and give him a hard shove, getting him out of harm’s way. He doesn’t have time to follow.

The pain of the demodog’s claws raking across his side is so sharp that it burns cold, and the force behind the blow winds Steve and knocks his bat from his hands. He can see it drawing back for another swing—it’s the one he thought he’d killed first with a solid blow to its gaping maw—but he can’t move, can’t force his body to cooperate, and he’s about to die–

The sharp report of Eddie’s shotgun rings out, and the demodog jerks. Its head is gone, black ooze splattered all over everything (probably up to and including Steve’s wound, Steve realizes with a shivery sort of distaste), and then Eddie is at Steve’s side.

“Shit, shit, baby, sit down, you look like you’re about to–” Even as Eddie’s saying it, Steve’s legs start to shake hard enough that they practically go out from under him, and Eddie just manages to catch him before his knees hit the pavement.

Looking back on it later, Steve really only remembers snatches of what happens next: using Steve’s jacket as a compress (it’s ruined anyway), Eddie speaking frantically into the walkie to call for a pickup, Eddie talking to him low and soothing until Hopper’s truck pulls up, Hopper’s many varied and colorful swears as he helps bundle Steve into the back. Steve definitely remembers that he passes out sometime around when they dump the heavy-duty, Upside Down-grade disinfectant over the slashes in his side, and he’s grateful he does.

Eddie is there, sitting by the bed when Steve wakes up, looking like he’s aged about ten years in the grey light of what could either be dawn or dusk.

“Hey,” Steve rasps, aiming a tiny smile at Eddie.

“Steve, what the fuck,” Eddie demands, and it only makes Steve’s smile grow.

It isn’t exactly the first thing he’d wanted to hear, but it’s a very Eddie thing to say all the same.

“Wasn’t gonna–” Steve breaks off with a hiss as he tries to sit up a little further against the headboard, and Eddie darts forward to help support him, to rearrange the pillows and get him a little more upright. “Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Steve–”

Actually, fuck ‘too soon.’ Fuck waiting.

“I love you,” Steve says, and Eddie falls silent.

Steve doesn’t regret saying it—he could never, he’s pretty sure—but Eddie is quiet just long enough for Steve to get nervous before he’s pressing forward and kissing Steve, hard and full and insistent.

“I love you, too,” Eddie murmurs, the words almost lost inside Steve’s mouth, like he can’t even wait long enough to get them out before taking another kiss. “Never do that again.”

Steve kisses back, matching the passion as well as he can with what little energy he has, and makes no such promise.

He loves Eddie, after all. He could never lie to him.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #they're in love and probably should not go out without a chaperone #but like. for safety reasons instead of propriety reasons #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous

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penny00dreadful · 11 months

Text

Somebody To Love - Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

Looks like we're going the direction of two parts here = one chapter on AO3 so consider this your sneaky peek for chapter two! 😘

Eddie was not spiralling.

He was not.

He had not fallen into a complete self-destructive hole after his world was rocked by the sudden and out of nowhere realisation that Steve Harrington… Steve fucking Harrington, his employee, his best friend, his babysitter, his god-damn saving grace, his… his everything… was in love with him?

It hadn't...

It couldn't...

He refused to believe it.

So what if he had called the guy from the video shoot yesterday.

So what if he had taken him back to his home and done exactly what he had planned to do to him last night, for hours.

It wasn’t like he was trying to prove anything to himself.

It wasn’t like all of these god-damn feelings, that had cropped up in the wake of that realisation, were fucking drowning him and he needed to do something about them. To make them go away, to fuck them out and all but destroy the body underneath him to make himself believe that all of this was just some crossed wires or misinterpretation or him seeing things where there wasn’t anything to be seen.

Because there couldn’t be anything.

There couldn’t be.

But Eddie was forced to recon with the fact that maybe he had been running again when he woke up the next morning and looked over to find that bruised and tender expanse of skin stretched across the back of that guy from the video shoot and fuck, he couldn’t even remember his name.

Eddie had made a rule for himself some years ago after a particularly harrowing experience to never ever sleep with someone who seemed just a little bit too eager to have him specifically again.

And Jesus H. Christ had this guy been eager.

It wasn’t unusual, people clamouring to get into his pants. But there was a difference in between them and the type that this guy was.

Something just a little unsettling in hindsight about how badly he wanted Eddie to mark him up. To put bruises and bite marks and handprints on him, like it was some kind of trophy to parade around.

Look at me! Look at all these marks I got a rockstar to put into my skin!

Like, everything had been consensual on both ends, of course it had. No matter how deep Eddie would go, he would never lose himself like that.

But it still left a bad taste in his mouth in the light of day. Like Eddie could’ve carved his name into the guys forehead and he would have said thank you. Like it would be something for him to post online or scream from the rooftops about like a badge of honour that never ended well.

Eddie slid out of his bed, being thankful not for the first time that the obscene amount of money he had now allowed him the space and budget to buy a bed big enough to fit at least four grown men easily.

And it had, a few times in the past.

Shit.

Maybe he wasn’t as in control of everything as he’d always thought he was. Had he ever been? Had he ever had a proper handle on the amount of sex or drugs or alcohol he’d subjected his body and mind to?

Deep down he knew the answer to that. He’d known the answer to that for a very long time, he’d just never wanted to admit it to himself.

Not before now.

He'd never had a handle on it.

Because Steve had had a handle on it for him.

Steve had always been the one keeping him at a relatively safe level, ever since he’d come into his life all those years ago. Ever since the first time he’d had to stick his fingers down Eddie’s throat and ride with him to the hospital to get his stomach pumped.

He’d never been allowed to get to that level again.

Jesus H. Christ Eddie was just one walking giant fucking red flag, wasn’t he? What the hell did Steve see in him?

He felt like he was walking downstairs with a cartoon cloud hanging over his head.

Eddie didn’t stop at the kitchen, just continuing on down to the basement, reaching out for his guitar like a lifeline. He curled up on the couch and picked out nonsense on the strings, letting whatever music came out of him compliment his sour mood.

Eddie didn’t know how long he stayed down there, but eventually his mood started to lift. Music was always a bit of a gift for him like that. It always managed to make him feel better.

It was only when he caught sight of a melting bright pink frappuccino sitting on the coffee table that he started to panic.

Because that meant that Steve was here.

Of course Steve was here, Steve was always here, taking care of him and cleaning up his messes.

He realised then why he’d felt so comfortable leaving that guy alone in his house, alone in his bedroom while he hid underground like a worm.

Because he’d done it so many times before.

Because he’d always left it up to Steve to show the guys the door while Eddie fucked off to do whatever it was he decided he was doing that day, oftentimes exactly what he was doing now, brooding in his basement studio with his guitar.

He didn’t know what it was this time around but he couldn’t shake the feeling that if Steve came face to face with the guy upstairs it would be disastrous. Something would happen, something would go wrong.

Except he did know why it was different this time, of course he did. Because this time was the first time he was fully aware of Steve’s potential feelings for him and what it must do to him every time he had to go kick Eddie’s latest conquest out of the house.

He shot to his feet but only made it halfway up the stairs before the sound of the front door slamming shut echoed around the house and he froze in place.

Another creak came from up above and he shot back into action, running up the remaining steps like a bat out of hell and barrelling straight into the man himself.

“Jesus.” Steve had both of his hands on Eddie’s arms to steady him, he looked as put together as he always did but there was something about his posture that was off. He was a little too stiff, his eyes were slightly red and his face had a slight flush to it.

He looked like he’d been crying.

Or trying desperately not to.

“What happened?” Eddie clutched back at the lapels of Steve's suit jacket in a panic and Steve himself looked momentarily bewildered at Eddie's desperation before he tried to brush it off.

“Sent the guy home,” he shrugged, “the usual.”

“Something happened, tell me.” Eddie couldn't explain it, he felt like something was slipping through his fingers and he was powerless to stop it.

Steve shook his head. “Nothing happened, Eds.”

“No, no. Something happened, Stevie. What was it? Did the guy say something to you or-”

Steve’s face shuttered, that infuriating blank mask was put back into place.

Eddie dug his fingers in. “What did he say?”

“It’s- he didn’t say anything.”

“No, Stevie, sweetheart, tell me please. Please.”

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice was firm and unwavering. He let go of Eddie’s arms and prised himself out of his grip. “Drop it, alright? It’s nothing for you to worry about. He’s left. It’s done.”

Opportunity gone, that was the only thing cycling through Eddie’s head at that moment. He’d missed something, let something pass him by but he didn’t know what.

Steve wouldn’t be argued with, when he didn’t want to talk about something the guy was a fortress and no amount of needling would get it out of him.

“Okay.” He almost whispered as Steve turned, walking further into the house without a backwards glance.

Eddie didn’t follow him, he couldn’t. If Steve wanted space to deal with whatever the fuck happened, he’d give him space. Though he did have half a mind to call up that guy and find out just what the fuck he had done to make Steve react like that.

Steve had never been outwardly riled up by anyone Eddie had slept with before, he'd always been polite smiles and gentle but firm demeanour unless whoever it was decided they could boss him around too.

Then the smile turned cutting and he became more firm than gentle but he never got upset.

Nearly the whole day had passed before he saw Steve again, hidden away somewhere in his giant house, which was very unusual for the both of them. When Eddie wasn’t touring or writing or doing whatever else he needed to do for work he and Steve were inseparable. They hung out constantly, Steve practically lived in Eddie’s biggest guest room during those times.

But when he did see Steve again, it was with a cold pit of dread settling in his stomach. Because Steve was dressed casual. Like he wasn't at work anymore. Like he was... like he was leaving.

“I think I need a vacation.” His tone was light, but forced. Like he was trying to convince the two of them it would just be a simple jaunty outing and everything was fine.

Right.

A vacation.

Right.

Steve wasn’t leaving forever. He was just taking a break.

Eddie could handle that.

He could.

Steve deserved it after all. He’d been running around after Eddie for so long, always so dedicated, always so…

He deserved a vacation. He really, honestly, truly did.

“How-” Eddie cleared his throat and wrapped his arms around himself. “How long will you be gone?”

Steve looked at him with something close to relief that Eddie wasn’t putting up a fight with him. Maybe, just maybe there was a thread of sadness underneath it all but it was so difficult to see.

“A couple of weeks. Maybe a month. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll know until I get there.”

“Oh, one of those vacations, huh?” He laughed. Or attempted to. It was pathetically flat.

“Yeah. One of those.” Steve stepped forward and enveloped Eddie in a hug, warm and solid and soft and all encompassing, like he always was. “I’m… I’m gonna try to switch off, I think. So I’ll probably be out of contact for most of it.” Eddie nodded against Steve’s neck and squeezed him around the middle as tight as he could.

He wasn’t leaving forever, he was going to come back.

He was going to come back and everything would be fine and it would all work out.

“Where-?” Eddie shook his head. Steve wanted to get away and Eddie didn’t need to know where he was going. It would be fine. Everything would be fine. “Never mind.”

“I’ve already got my replacements lined up. They’ll be here in the morning. You’ll like them. Promise.”

Eddie pulled his head back, still comfortably settled in Steve’s arms but able to see his face now.

Close enough to kiss.

Eddie wanted to kiss.

“More than one?” He said instead.

"You're a handful." Steve smiled, a familiar, easy, mean thing. “I’ve left them a list.”

“A list?” Eddie huffed, wedging his arms in between the two of them so he could cross them over his chest before burrowing his head back into Steve’s neck. “You’ve left them a list like I’m some pedigree dog.”

“You are a pedigree dog.” Steve lifted his arm and patted him on the head, like he was petting him, like a dog, the bitch.

“I’ll miss you.” It was muffled and barely audible to Eddie’s own ears but Steve still heard it.

Of course he did.

Steve’s hand gentled, sliding to cup the back of his head. “I’ll miss you too.”

A car beeped outside and Steve finally let go, stepping back out of Eddie’s space.

Steve was leaving.

Steve was leaving now and Eddie wasn't doing anything about it. Was there anything he could do to make him stay? Anything he could do that wouldn't break the two of them?

With one hand on the front door Steve turned to look back at him. “See you in a few weeks, Eds.”

Eddie had to swallow down the golf ball in his throat and try to ignore the cavernous ache in his heart that had just sprung up to be able to respond but somehow he managed. “I’ll be waiting.”

With a small smile and two light pats on the doorframe, Steve was gone.

Eddie stood there with his arms clenched tightly around himself in his big empty rockstar foyer, in his big empty rockstar house long after the car had pulled away, long after the automatic sensor of the porch light switched off, long enough to feel the ache in his knees, his hips, his back from standing so still for so long.

He trudged upstairs still in a haze, bypassing his bedroom and heading straight into the biggest guest room of the house.

It was always kept pristine.

Eddie had worried initially that Steve had felt unwelcome here when he’d first started using the room but then he slowly came to realise that that’s just who Steve was.

Neat and tidy.

In nearly everything he did.

Eddie slid under the covers and burrowed his head in deep, deep into the pillow that smelled of hairspray and amber cologne.

He swallowed around that fucking golf ball that was only getting higher, threatening to spill over as he pulled out his phone and dialled.

“Twinkie!” Her bright voice came through despite the late hour.

“Chrissy.” Eddie gasped out her name as his sob finally broke free, shocking himself at just how harsh it was.

“Where are you? What’s wrong? Do I need to call Steve?”

He hiccupped in a breath. “No, don’t call him. He's... I’m at home-”

“Okay, I’m on my way, honey.”

She stayed on the phone the whole drive over, they didn’t talk. He just quietly wept over the line until it went dead when her footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

Chrissy crawled under the covers next to him without a word, just pulled him into her chest and let him cry.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @child-of-cthulhu @sweetwaterangel @anaibis @katytheinspiredworkaholic @littlewildflowerkitten

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie x steve #fanfic #steddie fic #penny00dreadful #stranger things fic #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar eddie #personal assistant steve #personal assistant steve harrington #modern au #somebody to love

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

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The top of your blog says you're still taking requests,no pressure though of course: Eddie lives through the events of s4 and heals in the hospital, his name is cleared, Eddie spends his time with his uncle and his friends, plays games. He notices that Steve sort of remains on the back burner, shows up to little gatherings but keeps himself at a distance, busies himself with small tasks. Keeps the focus on Eddie, and is content to sort of stare at everyone, and not join in. Eddie gets worried and asks Robin whats up with Steve, why does he keep just standing in the corner or the kitchen smiling instead of joining in, I think he's bumming the kids out, Robin. And she has to calmly, and frightfully, remind him that Steve died over spring break. What are you talking about he's right there! I'd love a Ghost Steve who doesn't want to move on, wants to stay with his family. Doesn't want to be alone. Eddie is the only one who can see him at first(?)

OKAY SO THIS WAS SAD AS SHIT AND I LOVE THIS PREMISE. I especially love it because I have read A LOT of ghost Eddie fics, some where he was actually dead and some where it was a weird Upside Down thing and he was alive. I'm a big believer in happy endings so I went full speed ahead with the latter option for Steve. But since you requested ghost Steve not wanting to move on, I had to switch it up a bit to where Eddie couldn't just let it go. Still plenty of sad, but I had to make it hopeful and happy at the end because I am me. - Mickala ❤️

----------------------------------------------

While Eddie was in the hospital, it felt like he was in a bubble. His uncle was the only one allowed to visit for the first week, and then the kids were able to come by when his name was cleared.

They weren’t themselves, a cloud of sadness around them, but that was to be expected with everything that had happened.

Dustin, especially, clung to him more than he expected.

He figured it would be rough, he did almost die, after all, but this was on another level.

Dustin was with him every day for hours, sometimes had to be dragged out by his mom who understood, but only in the way a person who doesn’t know about the Upside Down could.

Robin came by sometimes, a haunted look on her face, none of her usual energy anywhere to be seen.

He managed to get her to crack a small smile twice.

When he left the hospital, things somehow felt worse.

The government had provided him and Wayne a new trailer, nowhere near the trailer park, even managed to get Wayne a new truck since Eddie’s van had been destroyed and Wayne’s truck was on its last leg for the last year.

His name was cleared, but that didn’t mean people changed their mind about him.

He mostly stayed at home, didn’t even attempt to go to the store with Wayne or anywhere but Dustin’s house or the Byers’.

The kids started begging for normalcy in whatever ways they could: meeting up for movie night, bringing Hellfire back, dinner at the Byers’ house.

Eddie was on board with it, wanted to put everything in the past just as much as they did.

He went to movie night, at Robin’s house while her parents were out of town instead of at Steve’s.

Steve, who hadn’t visited him once while he was in the hospital, hadn’t made it to any hangouts with the kids, apparently was coping with everything by ignoring everyone.

Eddie would have to do something about it soon because the kids were clearly missing him.

Movie night was okay, but he decided to have the next one at his house.

He told Dustin to let everyone know, didn’t think he had to be specific about everyone.

Steve didn’t show up on time, which was unusual since he was usually Dustin and Lucas’ ride. They rode with Nancy and Mike.

Everyone settled in, Eddie started the movie and passed out popcorn, waved goodbye to Wayne on his way out the door to his night shift.

Everything felt okay, but without Steve, it didn’t feel right.

Eddie could admit to himself he had a crush on him. He had one on him in high school, but that was easy to ignore when he was an asshole.

Now, he knew Steve was a good guy, protected these kids and Robin and Nancy with his life and didn’t hesitate even when he should.

It wasn’t just a crush anymore, he realized that while he was in the hospital. It was full blown feelings. Love.

Eddie sat in Wayne’s recliner in the corner, keeping an eye on everyone through the movie. He glanced over to the kitchen and saw movement, but didn’t think anything of it.

They paused the movie halfway through for bathroom breaks and refills on snacks and drinks, and Eddie followed all the kids into the kitchen to get his own beer.

He was startled when he turned the corner and saw Steve smiling at him from the corner.

He didn’t want to say anything, figured the kids had already said hello and he was just letting them get their stuff first.

But it was kind of weird that he’d come in the backdoor of a trailer he’d never visited when he easily could have come in the front door. Eddie watched as Steve leaned against the wall of the kitchen, watching everyone move around without saying anything.

It was weird, especially because the smile seemed to transform from a genuine one to a sad one quickly.

He didn’t want to draw attention to it, didn’t know how much Steve let the kids see usually, so he turned to grab his own snack from the counter.

Robin was standing there, staring at him, eyebrows pinched together.

“What were you looking at?”

“Uh,” Eddie glanced back over and saw Steve frowning now. “Steve? Looking like a kicked puppy in the corner?”

Robin’s face went from confused to worried in a millisecond.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Steve.” Eddie gestured towards where Steve was still standing, but now he looked panicked, like he wanted to interrupt. “Please feel free to make me not look insane, Steve.”

Robin glanced over to the corner, then back at Eddie, tears in her eyes.

“Eddie,” she said, voice sad, like she was about to break the worst news in the world to him. Then, she did. “Steve died. Remember? We had to leave him.”

That can’t be right. He could’ve sworn Steve was there when he was being pushed through the gate, when he gained just enough consciousness to look around and take inventory of the people around him. Steve was there.

“When did he die? He was at the…with the bats…he was at the trailer…right?”

Eddie looked back in the corner and saw Steve looking down at the floor.

And then Robin was pulling him into a hug.

“Nobody told you. They were supposed to tell you. And we-” she let out a sob. “We just haven’t talked about it. It’s hard to. Last time we tried, Dustin had to be given anxiety meds. I’m sorry, Eddie. He’s gone.”

She was crying through the explanation, almost too much for him to understand what she was saying.

But he watched as Steve wiped at his eyes in the corner.

Like he was crying. Like he was there.

He knew Robin wasn’t lying, she would never lie about something like this, and it would explain a lot of the behavior of everyone and Steve’s absence up until this point.

“Robbie, I-” Eddie didn’t know if it would help or hurt her to know he could see Steve right now. He made a decision based on the way Steve was watching them now, his eyes wide and sad, like he would be crying if he could. “I can see him right now.”

Robin pulled away, looked at him, then over at the corner.

“Right now? He’s there right now?”

Eddie nodded.

“Can you hear him say anything?”

“No, he hasn’t said anything. I don’t think he can.”

Steve was still just staring at them, and Eddie knew he was stuck.

If he was truly dead, he wasn’t moving on the way people do. If he wasn’t dead, then something super weird was happening and he would have to get help from everyone.

But he didn’t want to involve the kids, not for this. Because if Steve was dead, like they thought, and they went through the trouble of trying to find him, they’d be hurting all over again.

But if he wasn’t.

“Robin, were you sure he was dead? No pulse or breathing, no movement?”

Robin’s eyes widened.

“I mean, I guess as sure as we could be with how rushed and emotional we were? Nancy couldn’t find a heartbeat and he wasn’t moving, and we waited as long as we could, but he didn’t wake up. Do you think he isn’t dead?”

Steve was watching them, his fingers tapping against his arms that were crossed over his chest.

“How long can someone survive down there?”

“Eddie, look. I already talked to Hopper about it. He said even if somehow Steve managed to survive his injuries, they were bad enough that he would have probably been found by something and attacked. And even if he survived that, he’s been down there without food and water and clean oxygen for a month. The fact that Will survived a week was a miracle.”

He didn’t push. He could hear it in Robin’s voice that she’d already thought of every possible outcome, probably even tried to plan a rescue mission at some point.

She couldn’t take the disappointment either.

Eddie dropped it for now, but he watched as Steve watched him.

He just had a feeling that this was more complicated than Steve being dead.

—-----------------------

He let himself mourn that night.

While he didn’t feel like Steve was dead, he knew that no matter what, Steve had been missing from all their lives for a month.

He cried for hours, he cried for Steve, for Dustin, for Robin, for Max, for everyone who Steve loved so much that he died for them.

Himself included.

Because that’s what it came down to: Steve died protecting them.

They all took a risk, but Steve paid the price.

It wasn’t fair. The guy who put everyone first was the first one gone.

Eddie finally fell asleep, but it was restless. He kept getting flashes of Steve in his dreams, his face bloody, his body bloody, his screams loud.

Which was weird for a lot of reasons, one of them being that he didn’t know what injuries Steve even had when he died. The ghost he saw in his kitchen earlier had just been Steve, not bloodied or broken or scared.

When he managed to get up, he went through the motions of his day: brush his teeth, shower, eat breakfast, do his stretches, play guitar, eat lunch, clean up, talk to Wayne.

But by dinner, he felt like he had to do something. He had to figure out why he felt this buzzing energy around him.

He waited until Wayne left to get their dinner at the diner and bring it home, then he called Robin.

“Robin, is there a gate open somewhere?”

“Seriously, Eddie.”

“I just need to know! Maybe you’re right, in fact, you probably are. But what if you aren’t? What if he’s stuck down there? What if he’s too hurt to find a way back here?”

Robin was silent, but Eddie didn’t let that deter him.

“I know you guys were pretty sure. And I know you wouldn’t have left if you didn’t believe he was dead. But you said yourself you were emotional and overwhelmed and feeling rushed because of everything happening. It’s not that far of a stretch to believe that he could be alive.”

“Eddie.”

Her voice was broken.

She didn’t want to believe him.

“Okay,” he sighed. “Okay.”

“I know it’s hard. It’ll get easier, I hope. His parents just sold the house, and his car, so. He’s gone. We have to accept that.”

“Okay.”

But it wasn’t okay.

He hung up with Robin, promised he would try to get some sleep, take care of himself. It was a lie.

He ate dinner with Wayne, pretended he was doing alright, pretended he didn’t still hear the echoes of Steve’s screams in his head.

Wayne left early for work, claimed he was picking up some overtime due to them being short staffed still after the quake. He said he wouldn’t be home until nine the next morning.

Eddie nodded and pretended to head to his room for the night.

He did a lot of pretending until he was alone.

Then, he got on the phone with El.

El had gotten attached to him while Max was in a coma, stopping by to talk to him after she’d spent an hour or so with Max. She saw him as a cool older brother, especially when she realized Hopper wasn’t his biggest fan.

“I need to know if there’s a gate open.”

“Eddie, I do not know if I can help with that,” El responded slowly, carefully.

“What if I say it’s for a really good reason?”

“I am sure it is, but I promised Dad I would not open one.”

“But what if there’s one already open?”

“There is not. I would feel it.”

Eddie sighed. He didn’t want to make El break a promise, but this was worth it.

He knew Hopper would forgive her and him if he was right.

“Has Will mentioned feeling anything weird?”

Sometimes Will felt things that even El couldn’t, usually things happening only in the Upside Down. Everyone’s running theory was that it was because of the time he spent down there.

“No, he just feels the usual.”

“What’s the usual?”

“It is just there. Sometimes it is more there than other times.”

“And right now? It isn’t more than other times?”

“I think it is just always more than other times since Vecna.”

Hm. That could be something.

“Why does it feel like more sometimes?”

“It is hard to say. Sometimes it is nothing, sometimes it is because something is moving and trying to get out.”

“Is it always a creature?”

“It always was before.”

“El, I think Steve’s alive.”

There, he said it. He said it to someone who could probably actually help him, who would would help him if she believed him.

“Why do you think that? They said he was not breathing.”

“I know, but, look. Robin even said that they were being rushed and were crying and could have missed something.”

“But it has been a month.”

“I saw him. In the kitchen.” He hated saying this to one of the kids. They all loved Steve so much and if he was wrong, he really didn’t want this to hurt her. “At movie night. He was there, but only I could see him. Robin said maybe it was a ghost, but it seemed too real.”

“It was Steve?”

“Even if he’s de-,” Eddie stopped. “Gone. If his body is where it was left, it should be put to rest here. And if it isn’t, and he’s alive, then we can save him.”

“But we will get caught.”

“Not if we do it tonight. Hopper works nights this week, right?”

“Yes.”

“So he won’t be home to know you’re gone. Will is over at Dustin’s. Jonathan is so high, he won’t notice you’re gone. Joyce will be asleep by ten. You can sneak out.”

“What if you get hurt? I cannot go down there.”

That was a valid concern.

They defeated Vecna, and the Mindflayer hadn’t been a problem since, but that didn’t mean the other creatures weren’t still prowling around down there.

Out of all of them, he had the least experience with them, and she had every right to be worried.

“I can handle it. I’ll bring Steve’s bat.”

—------------------------

He met El in the woods behind the cabin they were staying in. Hopper had redone it, adding two bedrooms and a bathroom so they could all fit more comfortably.

They silently hugged and kept walking further, away from any chance of being seen or heard.

El warned him that opening the gate was risky in other ways too. She had a lot of control over her powers, but sometimes using this much strength would leave her too tired to close it again, and they couldn’t leave a gate open for longer than it took for Eddie to get in, check for Steve, and get out.

They also ran the risk of her using a little too much power and making a gate that was too big for her to close at all.

But these were risks Eddie deemed worth it, and with some convincing, El did too.

They found a small clearing, big enough to make a gate that Eddie could fit through.

He didn’t let himself stop to think about the last time he was being pushed through a gate, how he was bleeding out and barely breathing. He only thought about how Steve was down there, dead or alive, and didn’t deserve to be.

“Are you ready?” El asked him, her hands digging into the earth below her.

“Ready.”

“Two hours. If you are not back in two hours, I call Hopper.”

That was the deal. That was the only way she agreed to do this.

He knew if it came down to him being gone for more than two hours, he’d probably be grateful to see Hopper.

“Got it.”

El nodded and closed her eyes.

The ground started shaking, Eddie held back the panic, and suddenly El was staring up at him, blood dripping from her nose, smiling.

The ground had opened between them, just big enough for Eddie to slip through, small enough for El to cover with sticks and leaves if someone came looking before their time was up.

“You will come back in two hours.”

“Sure thing, supergirl. With Steve, hopefully.”

“With Steve,” she added with a small smile.

Eddie didn’t think anymore.

He dropped himself down, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach when everything turned upside down on him.

He didn’t let himself hesitate, even though he wanted to.

He had a lot of ground to cover in a short amount of time, and if Steve was alive, he could be anywhere.

But he walked towards where Robin and Nancy had left him. It would at least confirm if he was dead, his body hopefully would still be there if so.

It was only two miles, but Eddie was never a very fast runner. The first mile went surprisingly well, much faster than he expected to be able to do it. But during mile two, he felt his legs shaking.

He was still technically healing, the physical therapy stretches he did every morning further proof that he still had a long way to go before he was completely recovered.

But he pushed through it, knowing that the way back would be worse and he couldn’t waste time now.

But when he got to the area between the Creel house and the trailer park, he saw no sign of Steve, or anything for that matter.

There weren’t even vines or dead creatures around.

He tried to remain calm.

Steve had been alive when they left him here.

He may not be now, but he had been.

That felt worse.

He pushed that aside and decided to run to the trailer park.

Steve wouldn’t have gone in the direction of the Creel house, and he wouldn’t have wandered aimlessly no matter how much blood he’d lost.

He would have gone to the place he knew they would be in hopes the gate was still open.

The trailer park had always been kind of eerie, even in broad daylight, so the Upside Down version was downright horrific.

Eddie ran directly to his old trailer, hoped that somehow Steve found shelter here.

It looked worse than what he remembered, blood on the floor from when they were half dragging, half carrying him after being a meal for the bats.

The door had been kicked in at some point, and he wasn’t sure how or when that could have happened after they left.

He almost didn’t want to know unless-

He could hear movement in the back bedroom. His bedroom.

It could be anything. Wind blowing through a broken window, a creature he wasn’t entirely prepared to kill, Steve.

God, he hoped it was Steve.

He slowly walked towards the bedroom, his hands shaking where they were holding on tight to the bat.

The door was open a few inches, and he could hear the movement more clearly.

It sounded like someone was in bed, shifting in the sheets.

Holy shit.

He pushed the door open.

Holy shit.

“Steve!”

Eddie dropped the bat and ran to the bed, only stopping himself from jumping onto it when he saw the blood.

There was a lot, though most of it looked old, like maybe Steve had crawled here and then couldn’t quite find his way back out.

Steve was pale. It was dark, and hard to make out a lot of details, but he could see that he was deathly pale.

“Steve?”

“Eddie?”

“Holy shit, Jesus Christ, Steve. Where are you bleeding from?”

“Um, I think my leg? And my stomach.”

His voice was raspy, sort of nasally like he was coming down with a cold. Could you catch a cold from being down here? Probably.

Eddie’s hands hovered over the sheets, ready to move them so he could try to help, when Steve suddenly turned on his side and threw up.

“Shit. Hold on, let me help you sit up.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

Steve was crying, and Eddie didn’t know what to do.

He took a deep breath.

“You don’t have to apologize, Stevie. I’m sorry you’ve been stuck here. Can I check your heartbeat?”

Eddie needed to see if it was ridiculously fast or slow, needed to determine how quickly he had to move them out of here, if he could take a few extra minutes to try to patch him up or if he just had to put him on his back and run.

Steve held his wrist towards him and Eddie quickly found his pulse.

He counted like a kind nurse showed him while he was in the hospital, filed away for future emergencies so he could be useful.

“It’s a little fast, but I think that’s normal for the situation. Let’s get you up and we can go.”

“Go how?”

“You can hop on my back.”

“I-”

“Steve, it’s not up for debate. You’re coming back with me and I don’t care if it means I break my back.”

Steve nodded once, his eyes closing as if he was just too exhausted to fight.

Eddie was sure he was.

Even if he managed to sleep here, it couldn’t have been well. It’s hard to rest when you know scary monsters are just outside the door.

“Tired,” Steve said, almost like he could read Eddie’s mind.

Hell, maybe he could after spending so much time down here.

Something to test later.

He checked his clock. Still had almost an hour and a half to get back to the gate.

“Have you had anything to eat or drink lately?”

“Found some water four days ago I think? Maybe five. Managed to stretch it until yesterday. Food’s been gone for days.”

How was he not passed out?

“How much of this blood is yours?”

“All of it.”

Awesome.

Eddie felt his forehead. He had a fever.

Even more awesome.

He probably had infections, which can be treated if you get them taken care of quickly, but he could have had them for weeks by now.

Cool.

“Alright, on three, wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. I’m gonna lift, and I just need you to try to keep leaning forward while I get you on my back.”

“Mkay.”

“And you cannot close your eyes. You hear me, Steve?”

Steve didn’t answer.

“Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me.”

“Mhm. Eyes stay open.”

“And mouth keeps moving. Alright,” Eddie helped him out a bit by placing his arms around his neck. “One…two…three.”

He lifted, and huffed out a sharp breath when his ribs started aching almost immediately.

“Okay?” Steve whispered against his neck.

“I’m okay. You?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Eddie let himself take one calming breath, just enough to get himself back on track. “Talk to me.”

“Hurts.”

“I know, love, but I need to know you haven’t passed out,” Eddie said sympathetically.

“Wanna hold your hand.”

God, okay. He could handle that.

He could.

“Okay, one hand for a minute. I need them both to hold you up though.”

He moved one hand up to his chest, where Steve’s hands were sort of dangling. He let his thumb run along the side of Steve’s hands, then Steve grabbed it and squeezed, surprising strength behind it.

“Is Dustin okay?”

Jesus Christ, this guy was half dead and still asking if others were okay.

“Yeah, he’s doing okay. Misses you, though.”

“Miss him.”

“Max is gonna be mad you came back from the dead in a more impressive way than her.”

“She can win.”

Eddie let out a laugh and tugged his hand back to adjust Steve on his back.

They had barely made it out of the trailer park and Eddie’s legs were shaking. He could do it though, he had no choice.

“How long?” Steve asked.

“A month.”

“Robin?”

“She’s hurting. She thought I was crazy. Didn’t wanna come because she didn’t wanna see you like she left you.”

“Not dead though.”

“Nope, not unless dead people can talk down here.”

Steve’s breath was hot against his neck, tickling him and sending chills down his back.

“You?”

“What about me?”

“Hurt?”

Steve’s voice was getting more strained, like he was doing his best to still talk but it was causing a lot of pain for him to do so.

“I was really hurt, yeah.”

“Still?”

“Not as much. Just a little.”

“Love me?”

Eddie knew he was losing it. The pain, the dehydration and hunger, the deliriousness. Steve didn’t have a clue what he was saying.

“What?”

“You love me?”

“Um.”

Steve squeezed his legs around Eddie’s hips.

“Came back. Love me.”

When it was put like that, yeah, Eddie guessed it seemed kind of obvious.

“Just a little.”

He could sense the eyeroll Steve wanted to give, but didn’t quite have the energy.

“I saw you. In my kitchen. Were you there?”

“Dunno.”

“Did you dream about it?”

“Just you. Kids. Robin. Missed you.”

“We all missed you.”

Eddie was making more progress, his determination to get Steve medical attention far outweighing any weakness or pain he was feeling.

“Ow.”

“What hurts, sweetheart?”

“Stomach.”

“Bites?”

“Mhm.”

Eddie could feel where the blood was soaking through his shirt, but he knew it wasn’t so much that he couldn’t at least make it through the gate before bandaging it up. He’d made it this long with them out, another 30 minutes wouldn’t kill him.

Hopefully.

Steve was quiet again, but he was breathing against Eddie’s neck steadily, so he didn’t push.

“Man, you won’t believe the place they gave me and Wayne. It’s got two bedrooms. And we have a whole kitchen instead of just a small counter area with a stove and fridge. Maybe you can cook us dinner when you’re better, you know, as a thanks for rescuing you.”

“Not a good cook.”

“I don’t believe that. Robin said you made her chicken parmesan from scratch for her birthday.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, so chicken parmesan, my kitchen, soon.”

“Soon.”

They were close, creeping into the edge of the woods, and Eddie was trying not to panic at Steve’s silence.

“Stevie, just a few more minutes. Tell me about the first thing you wanna do when you’re back.”

“Mmm.” Steve’s head rolled back and forth like he was trying to focus. “Kiss you.”

“That can be arranged. What else?”

“Hug Dustin. Love him.”

“Yeah, he could use that.”

“Hug Robin. Love her.”

“She could use that, too.”

“Hug you, love you.”

He wouldn’t hold Steve to this, he wouldn’t. But it would hurt so much when Steve forgot about this whole conversation.

He bit his lip and nodded.

“Yeah, I could use that.”

Steve’s lips were pressed against his neck, most likely accidental, but Eddie let himself pretend for a moment it was a kiss.

When he reached the gate, he whistled to get El’s attention.

“Oh! Eddie, is that…”

“He’s alive. Really hurt and needs water and food. I need to get him through.”

El was prepared with everything and it only took a couple of minutes for them to get through the gate, Steve whimpering slightly as they moved him around.

“You were right.”

El seemed surprised, like she had only done this to give Eddie closure. She hadn’t expected Steve to be alive.

“He loves me,” Steve said.

El looked at Eddie, then at Steve, then back to Eddie.

“You love him?”

“I do. And I’ll love him a lot more if he stays alive. We have to get him to the hospital.”

“I can call Hopper?”

“Tell him to meet us at the cabin with an ambulance.”

“Jus’ need sleep.”

Eddie looked at Steve, mouth open in disbelief.

“You’re going to the hospital.”

“Sleep.”

“I’m not arguing with you. You can barely form a sentence. You’re going to the hospital.”

“You come?”

“I won’t leave your side.”

Eddie put him on his back again so he could walk towards the cabin, hopeful that Hopper wouldn’t ask a lot of questions until they got Steve taken care of.

“He is on his way!” El yelled from the porch, Joyce coming up behind her, hair a mess from being asleep.

When she saw Steve, her eyes widened and she nearly tripped running down the stairs.

“Oh God, Steve! Honey, are you okay? Of course not, you can’t even walk. You’re bleeding!”

“Mrs. Byers, can you get him some water maybe please?”

“Yes! Oh my God!”

She was running back up the stairs, mumbling to herself the whole way.

El giggled as she watched.

Eddie loved her.

He could hear sirens in the distance, and he hoped he would be able to ride with Steve.

He shouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

Steve’s eyes were closed, but Eddie kept his fingers on his pulse, making sure he didn’t have any changes while the sirens got closer.

Hopper’s patrol car arrived first, barely in park before Hopper was jumping out and running to where Eddie was cradling Steve.

Joyce came out with the water and handed it to Eddie.

“Dammit, why would you go down there alone? You know the rules.”

Eddie ignored him, just focused on getting some water past Steve’s lips.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Just a few sips.”

Steve’s lips moved, then he swallowed some of the water.

“There ya go. Good job.”

Hopper was watching in silence now, Joyce with her arm around him.

Eddie knew they were wondering how the hell they would ever get over leaving Steve behind.

The ambulance pulled up next, EMTs rushing out and asking Eddie question after question.

He had to keep it simple: found him in the woods, must’ve been out there since the quake with the injuries and level of dehydration. They took him at his word.

When they loaded Steve up, they let Eddie in only because Hopper insisted.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

And he was.

Eddie kept his eyes on Steve the whole time, but he could see the lights of Hopper’s police car in the window next to him.

Steve’s eyes fluttered open a few times as they hooked him up to oxygen and an IV, kept checking his vitals.

Eddie smiled at him each time, made sure he knew he was there and he loved him.

—---------------------------

It was two days before Steve woke up again.

The wounds weren’t bad, but they were infected, which was why they kept randomly bleeding despite not being very deep.

The infection was actually the worst of it, but it had potential to be life threatening if they couldn’t get it under control.

They pumped him full of pain relievers and antibiotics, fluids and nutrients.

Eddie sat by his bed the whole time.

None of the kids were allowed in yet, doctor’s and Hopper’s orders, but he heard Dustin in the hall multiple times a day giving it his best shot.

Robin hadn’t come by yet. Eddie knew she felt guilty, immensely so. She left her best friend down there, suffering, and didn’t even think to double check when it was safe to do so.

Eddie didn’t blame her, and he knew Steve wouldn’t either, but Robin would.

But when Steve’s eyes finally opened, bloodshot and glassy from his IV concoction, he smiled at Eddie.

“Love me?”

“Just a little.”

He fell back asleep a few minutes later, holding Eddie’s hand like a lifeline.

—------------------------

It took another four days before the doctors said he could be around others. His infection symptoms had gotten better and they believed the worst was over.

Eddie called Robin and told her to bring Dustin, no arguing. Steve was asking for them.

It wasn’t a lie, but he may have exaggerated it slightly just to get them here.

And when they did show up, everyone cried.

Robin collapsed next to the bed while Dustin folded himself against Steve the moment he was given permission to.

Eddie just watched from his chair, took in the way Steve comforted them despite the fact he was still in the hospital after spending a month alone in the Upside Down.

That was just who Steve was.

It probably wasn’t healthy, but it’s why Eddie loved him. Just a little.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #robin buckley #the party #temporary character death #ficlet #request #angst #happy ending

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helpimstuckposting · 4 months

Text

I’m a ghost and you are a shadow

—

They made their way back to the Harrington house in relative quiet. Steve didn’t feel as panicked as he had that morning thanks to the talk he'd had with Eddie. Though, whatever reaction the gate had to Steve was… concerning to say the least.

He felt grimy and sweaty as he trudged through the last few trees and into his backyard. Wearing the same clothes two days in a row wasn’t Steve’s best idea. He was glad no one had commented on it, though he was a bit surprised even Mike hadn’t said anything. He kicked off his muddy shoes at the back door, following the rest of the Jabberwocks into the house.

Yesterday he had felt too weird about going through OtherSteve’s closet, though right now he just felt kind of desperate to change. The others congregated on the couches in the living room while Steve headed straight for the stairs, calling out that he’d change and be right back down. It would be a bit before the rest of the party joined them anyway.

He felt a little more comfortable in the house on his second day, a little less worried that OtherSteve would pop out like some cosmic entity and scold him for the intrusion. It still didn’t feel like he belonged, would take a while for that to happen — if he even got the chance — and Steve was only just beginning to imagine himself staying long enough for that to happen. If Eddie was right, if they figured out a way for him to stay, if he didn’t have to leave, his life would be so different. Maybe he could be okay again.

He walked into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind him, and made his way over to the closet. It was a simple wooden door, nothing fancy, not even a mirror hanging from the frame.

He paused when he opened it, unsure of what he was really seeing at that moment. Half of the closet was full of henleys and soft-looking cable knit sweaters, light colored t-shirts and various colored jackets he’d expected from basically his own closet, but the other half was clad in leather and ripped black tank tops, band tees and torn jeans. It looked like Eddie’s clothes. It looked like Eddie lived here.

Did Eddie keep clothes in Steve’s closet? Why? He looked back over his shoulder at the wall of posters full of bands he didn’t know, eyes flitting back and forth between the few posters with names he’d recognized before, the bands from Eddie’s battle jacket.

Was this actually Eddie’s room? But then why didn’t Eddie tell him, force Steve into one of the other spare rooms last night instead of taking one for himself? He clearly knew this was the room Steve expected to be in. There were also trinkets that definitely belonged to Steve on the desk and nightstand, and half the closet were clothes Eddie would never touch, let alone wear in public.

Steve stepped dazedly into the small space, thoughts running around in confused tangles of yarn that weren’t quite connecting. He thought back to the photos on the kitchen wall with Steve and Eddie wrapped around each other, and the countless times since he woke up here yesterday morning where Eddie looked at him like something was missing, like he was thinking of something specific that Steve couldn’t put his finger on.

If Eddie had simply moved into the Harrington house for some reason, that still didn’t explain why this room seemed to be half his, like they shared it. It just… well, Steve wasn’t stupid, he was there when Eddie had come out to him just that morning, he knew what this room and these things implied. Everything here pointed to a life lived together, but Steve was straight as far as he knew so could that be right? Sure, Eddie was comfortable to be around no matter which universe he was in. He was… gentle, despite his loud demeanor, and he was good at quieting the bad thoughts rattling around in Steve’s mind.

Even throughout their first stint in the Upside Down together, a brush of their sides or a squeeze to the shoulder, the soft dimpled smile Eddie had tossed his way, it all settled something in Steve’s chest. He’d thought this Eddie and Steve were closer, really close judging by the way Eddie had disappeared the day before but this was more than he’d ever expected. Was it even possible? Was Steve just reading into things?

Slowly, he reached out to touch a leather sleeve in front of him. It was soft, worn. He thought about today in the woods, how he kept focusing on Eddie’s lips, how he remembered doing that before, too. How often had he been sneaking those glances? Even without realizing?

Steve brought the sleeve to his nose, slowly breathing in the scent of tobacco and leather, and hints of the cologne Eddie sometimes sprayed when he remembered. This was definitely Eddie’s stuff, no doubt in Steve’s mind. This single closet smelled more like home than Steve’s whole house ever did, and maybe that meant he and Eddie weren’t so out-of-left-field as he’d thought.

He stepped back, letting the sleeve drop and opening his eyes. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them. He’d ask Eddie about this tonight, after the party left and they were alone. For now, Steve turned to the other side of the closet and swapped his shirt for a Hawkins high school band sweatshirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. If they were about to have another planning session that could change Steve’s life, he might as well be comfortable.

He tossed the dirty clothes into a hamper at the back of the closet and turned to leave, his eye catching briefly on a lone shoebox sitting on the top shelf. It was on Steve’s side of the closet, sitting among what he assumed were just boxes of clutter. It would be easily overlooked, a shoebox in a closet, but Steve had the same exact one in his own closet.

It was an old box, weathered at the corners but still sturdy. He’d put every happy thing inside of it; his favorite movie tickets, the yoyo his nanny bought him for his seventh birthday, a pressed flower from his first boutonniere. He’d put photos of him and Nancy inside, some sparkly rocks that Robin had just placed in his hand and called pretty, one of the miniatures the kids had painted and left in his living room one day. Little things. Things that mattered. It’s the box he would grab if the house caught fire.

Hesitantly, he stepped forward and tugged the closet door closed, arms reaching out to grab the box from the shelf before he had even made up his mind. He shouldn’t look. He really shouldn’t look, he didn’t have the right to. But… he was Steve. He should know the kind of life he could have had, he should know what kind of things he’d find important or meaningful. Right?

He took the lid off the box.

It was full of trinkets, just like he'd expected, but the stories they told were of a different life. Instead of a yoyo, there was a little book of nursery songs for beginners to play on the saxophone. There were three miniatures instead of one, painted in matching color palettes. He found more sparkly rocks, different than his own, and friendship bracelets made from chunky beads.

In the corner of the box, tucked away neatly, was a small, clear container with polaroids inside. Steve turned his back to the closet door and slid down it, setting the box in his lap as he hunched over to look.

He picked up the little container with both hands, sliding the pictures out with care. They were just like the photos in the kitchen, of trips to the beach and sleepovers, of pool parties and birthdays. The party in various groups showed up, Robin was in most of them. Eddie was in every single one.

He and Steve stood close, draped over each other or with faces squished together. In some, they were looking directly at the camera or making faces. In others, they looked at each other. There were pictures where Eddie looked at the camera while Steve looked at him, and Steve… Steve looked at him like he hung the moon. Like the sun rose and fell only to see him, like the stars themselves couldn't shine as brightly. Like every other cliche that’s been written and sung and professed about since the dawn of time.

Steve had never looked at anyone that way. Nancy was right, he was just bullshit. Is that how she felt with Jonathan? Is that how it’s supposed to feel?

He traced his own expression, completely enamored. How many times had the Steve of this world sat right here, holding these pictures, seeing the way he looked at Eddie? Did they look at these pictures together? What did it feel like to wear that expression? It was hard to look away, to pull himself from the trance his own face had him in, but there was one more picture and when Steve saw it, it was like the world stopped around him.

They were kissing. He and Eddie. They were kissing. Steve's hand was threaded in Eddie's hair, the brown tendrils curling through his fingertips. Their eyes were closed, fully immersed in the other, lips together in what was definitely not a chaste kiss.

As he stared, he couldn’t help but wonder what Eddie’s lips tasted like, what they felt like to be pressed against his. Eddie knew what they tasted like, knew what he tasted like. Steve wondered if he thought of that every time they locked eyes. Was Eddie the type to kiss fast and hard? Would he push forward with the confidence of all his tabletop lunchroom rants? Would he press hard like he stamped his combat boots into the dirt?

Or did he kiss soft? Soft like the way Steve’s eyes looked in the previous pictures. Soft like the sunset over lovers lake, soft as the tendrils of hair OtherSteves fingers carded through as they kissed.

Steve squeezed his eyes together to stop the burning. He shoved the stack of pictures back into the small container, shoved the image to the back of his mind, too. The Steve in those pictures was dead. The man who looked at Eddie with stars in his eyes was dead. He shouldn’t be thinking about Eddie like that, it had only been six months, he couldn’t image what he was going through, how much Steve’s presence was fucking with him. No wonder he spent the whole first day avoiding Steve, he’s surprised Eddie had spoken to him at all.

He sighed, breath pushing through his lips in a shuddered rush while he tried to pretend his heart wasn’t clawing its way up his throat. Steve carded his fingers through his hair, shoving it out of his face. He reached out to put the Polaroids back into the box and paused. In the crowded corner he’d pulled the pictures from, there was another box. It was small and black, just a cardboard box with a lid, and it was just small enough for the Polaroids to cover up. Or to hide?

He swallowed, suddenly his mouth was too dry. He shouldn’t look. If OtherSteve was hiding it, he shouldn’t look. He shouldn’t be looking at any of this.

He reached out to it, fingers tracing over the plain black lid.

“Steve!” Robins voice shouted from the staircase landing.

He jumped, choking on the heart in his throat and worried that Robin would burst into the room to find him snooping, but no further noises wandered toward his ears. He quickly shoved the Polaroids back into the box, refusing to look at the little black box he just covered back up.

“Just a second!” He called out, carefully putting the shoebox back on the top shelf, hoping it looked like he hadn’t touched it at all.

Robin was waiting for him at the bottom landing of the staircase. The second he looked her in the eye, Steve could tell she was desperately trying to seem casually uninterested. She leaned against the banister, eyes trying to cling to his own but she kept taking glances at his sweatshirt. She knew. She knew he went into the closet, that he saw Eddie’s half. He kept eye contact, knew she would crack eventually, especially as she fidgeted more and more.

She glanced past the stairs, into the living room before darting her eyes back to Steve’s, then the door behind her. The other two groups would be back any minute.

She stepped forward, dropping the façade of ignorance, and put a hand on his arm.

“Ask him when the kids leave, okay?” she whispered, glancing down at the sweatshirt again. He nodded. He’d ask tonight, when the house was cleared and silent, and they were wrapped in the compelling embrace of the darkness. It was always easier to speak honestly at night, whether it was the calm brought by the silence or the dark that obscured your vision, it didn’t feel as vulnerable. It felt safe, like the darkness itself could keep your secrets. He’d wait until then to talk to Eddie.

—

More midnight talks on the horizon for our boys, but next up is figuring out what the fuck that weird tree is doing

@devondespresso @weirdandabsurd42 @sirsnacksalot @space-invading-pigeon @aliea82 @goodolefashionedloverboi @emly03 @bestwifehaver @mentallyundone @13catastrophic-blues @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @likelylad @aellafreya @wxrmland @shunna @fangirltofangod @howincrediblysapphicofyou @1-8oo-wtfbro @grimmfitzz

#something something nursery rhymes vs dead flowers #something something lost figurine vs gifted figurines #Steve’s mother gave him the music book #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #the party #hurt/comfort #steddie fic #stranger things fanfiction #helpimstuckwriting #parallel universe au

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gerrystamour · 1 year

Text

nothing to say, and nowhere to go (the taste of the divine)

Rated E | Steddie Week Day 1: Hunger | 1900 Words | Complete

[ READ ON AO3 ]

Steve found himself staring at Eddie’s mouth. It wasn’t the first time he did that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But this truly took the cake for the most inappropriate time to do it. This is my entry for @steddie-week Day 1, loosely following the prompt Hunger. Posting a bit early for my timezone because I have a busy-ish day tomorrow. Enjoy!! CW: This fic is rated Explicit for smut below the cut.

Steve found himself staring at Eddie’s mouth.

It wasn’t the first time he did that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But this truly took the cake for the most inappropriate time to do it.

It had been Steve’s bright idea to encourage Eddie to start holding the Hellfire meetups at his house, wanting to watch his boyfriend in action. He��d heard a lot about Eddie when he was in the zone, and Steve just wanted to see it. Plus, since they would be playing late that meant Steve could easily convince Eddie to stay the night and maybe, just maybe, if Eddie was super keyed-up after the game ended…

At the start, things were going well. Steve sat back and observed as they played and yeah, Eddie was a sight to behold when he was like this; passionate, animated, excited. Steve could watch him like this forever.

Then combat began, which meant there was a lot of bickering and squabbling at each turn and Eddie took this time to start snacking on the pretzels Steve set up behind his DM screen.

That’s where it started to go wrong for Steve.

The first couple of pretzels, Eddie popped straight into his mouth, crunched them loudly while he laughed openly at the plan the kids were trying to devise. Steve pulled a face, a bit disgusted, but he couldn’t deny the fondness he felt, too.

Then Eddie started doing that thing he did, that thing Steve was certain was deliberate and designed specifically to drive him absolutely insane.

The Dungeon Master would lift a pretzel to his mouth just to rest it on his plush bottom lip, poke his tongue out just enough to lick at the salt. Then he’d drop his chin just a bit, hook the pretzel with his tongue, and lift it into his mouth. Did Eddie finally chew it and be done with it? Of course not.

Steve could tell by the way his jaw shifted that he was playing with the pretzel on his tongue, sucking it gently. It brought images of Eddie sucking other things to Steve’s mind and it was actually embarrassing how quickly his cock began to wake up.

Then Eddie would chew the pretzel, putting Steve out of his misery, to describe the results of whatever the kids managed to do. To Steve’s dismay, Eddie just started the whole process over with another goddamn pretzel.

So there Steve was, half-hard and staring at his boyfriend’s mouth while a gaggle of teenagers were right fucking there, and he couldn’t bring himself to actually look away.

Eddie had started the ritual again, but this time the corners of his mouth were ticked upward in a little smirk. It was enough for Steve to tear his gaze away to take in Eddie’s whole face.

Eddie was looking at Steve, and now that their eyes met, his smirk turned into a dimpled grin. The menace lifted the pretzel he’d been licking gently just enough that he could poke the tip of his tongue through one of the holes suggestively. When Steve took in a shaky breath, Eddie winked and popped the pretzel into his mouth with a crunch.

After that, Eddie stopped with the pretzels and focused on the combat happening, leaving Steve sitting a short distance away with his cock actually straining against his fly. How was he supposed to get up and flee when he was in this condition?

But Steve didn’t want to flee. Deep down he desperately wanted to kick everyone out so he could crawl under the table and taste his boyfriend, to lap the salt from his thick cock the same way Eddie worked his tongue over the pretzel. Steve wanted to hop onto the table in front of Eddie and drag that pink, pretty, smug mouth onto his cock.

It was a hunger so intense that Steve felt fucking lightheaded with it.

“Alright!”

Steve was snapped out of his spiraling fantasies by the sharp clap of Eddie’s hands. He was glad the magazine he had been reading was covering his lap because the tent in his jeans was very obvious.

“We are taking a break! Someone should get on ordering pizza while we replenish snacks and drinks. Meanwhile, our amazing host will help me find a new shirt,” Eddie announced, and everyone basically scattered to the different tasks.

Steve blinked in confusion until he saw the wet patch on Eddie’s shirt. “What? When’d that happen?”

“Just a second ago. Got a bit overzealous when I grabbed my drink,” Eddie said slyly as he got up and walked across the room to loom over Steve. “You gonna help me out with finding a dry shirt, big boy?”

If he wasn’t so focused on getting his boyfriend alone for at least fifteen minutes before anyone came looking for him, Steve would’ve been embarrassed at how quickly he stood up. The two of them practically scrambled up the stairs into Steve’s bedroom where Eddie immediately slammed the door shut. With a shockingly graceful movement, Eddie had Steve pinned against it while he flicked the lock and soon, he was kissing Steve hungrily.

Steve melted under his ministrations, groaning thickly when Eddie bullied his tongue into his mouth. Eddie was everywhere it seemed, the long line of his body pressed against Steve’s front, his greedy mouth devouring Steve’s, both hands in Steve’s hair.

Then Eddie dropped to his knees with a too-loud thump and immediately began pulling at Steve’s belt and fly, yanking his jeans and boxers halfway down.

“Whoa, whoa-oh fuck, Eds,” Steve moaned as Eddie began mouthing at his balls and up the underside of his cock until he rested the tip of Steve’s dick against his soft lower lip.

Eddie’s big brown eyes looked up at Steve through his lashes, a smirk ticking up one side of his mouth as he poked his tongue out to tease the slit of Steve’s cock, lapping up the bead of precum that had formed at the tip. The noise that burst from Steve’s chest would’ve been embarrassing if he wasn’t so desperately turned on.

“Eds, please,” Steve panted, but Eddie just hummed and kept teasing, making Steve shake and whimper where he stood against the door.

Eddie’s hands left Steve’s body briefly, and Steve vaguely registered the sound of him rifling in his pockets. When Eddie’s hands returned, one wrapped back around his cock to stroke it slow and loose. The other one snuck between his thighs to touch slick fingers to his hole.

Steve’s legs shook dangerously as Eddie pressed two fingers into him and fucked them in out of him. All the while, Eddie just lapped at the tip of his cock, poking the slit with the tip of his tongue.

Then Eddie crooked his fingers just so, immediately finding Steve’s prostate with practiced ease and massaged it relentlessly. Choking on what would have been a scream, Steve watched as Eddie lapped up every thick spurt of cum he worked out of him. Each drag of Eddie’s fingers over Steve’s sweet spot punched a broken little whine out of him, and Eddie groaned happily as more precum dribbled onto his tongue.

“Eddie, please,” Steve sobbed, tears stinging his eyes as he shook against the door.

With a chuckle, Eddie pulled away slightly and smirked, a chain of precum stretching between his lip and Steve’s cock.

“Please, what, Stevie?” Eddie asked before angling his thumb to press into his taint at the same time he crooked his fingers viciously.

“Oh fuck, Eds, please, need your mouth, please,” Steve begged, his shattered voice raising in pitch as the pleasure mounted and mounted. There was now a steady stream of precum leaking from Steve’s cock.

“You have my mouth, though,” Eddie cooed, shifting forward so Steve’s cock was against his bottom lip again, moaning as he lapped at the slit again.

“In, please, in your mouth, need it so bad, please,” Steve gasped, his eyes crossing as Eddie began massaging his prostate again.

“I think you just want my mouth. You don’t need it, do you, big boy?” Eddie sighed, pressing a sucking kiss around the sensitive tip of Steve’s cock. This time, Steve couldn’t stop the near-scream that was ripped from him and he barely stopped his knees from buckling.

“Please, please, please Eds, you know-oh, fuck, Eds, you know I don’t—fuck, I don’t like coming like this,” Steve whimpered, which wasn’t the entire truth.

He liked coming like that, with just Eddie’s fingers working his prostate and taint, but it didn’t do much to settle him down. It would get him off, but he’d still be a bit hot and any amount of friction against his cock stood the chance of reigniting his arousal. It just meant he would be easy to rile back up.

Which was probably Eddie’s plan the whole time; get Steve off now in a way that wasn’t properly fulfilling, keep him hot and hungry for Eddie for another four hours, then devour him completely once the house was empty after Hellfire.

“You don’t like me milking your sweet little prostate, Stevie?” Eddie pouted without stopping, and Steve felt his balls draw up tight. He was about to blow, and he couldn’t even find the words to warn Eddie.

Eddie, however, knew Steve’s tells, especially the wordless ones, and he gave Steve’s prostate one last vicious jab. Steve strangled the scream that ripped out of him as he came in thick stripes onto Eddie’s tongue and chin. Pulling back, Eddie caught the last few spurts of Steve’s cum on his chest, truly wrecking his Hellfire t-shirt.

Steve didn’t even have a chance to catch his breath before Eddie was surging up to kiss him deeply, feeding him the mouthful of cum he caught. The fingers withdrew from his hole, leaving Steve empty and twitching which pulled a sad little whine from his throat. Distantly, he was aware of Eddie reaching between them, the sound of Eddie’s belt and then his fly opening. Steve registered the way Eddie’s arm was moving and knew his boyfriend was frantically jerking off, and he wanted to help but Eddie was kissing him too well.

As if reading his mind, Eddie pulled back and pushed Steve to his knees.

“Take it, baby, ‘bout to come,” Eddie sighed, grinning almost maniacally when Steve’s lips instantly dropped open, his own cum still coating his mouth.

Eddie pushed his cock inside, and Steve took him as deep as he could manage, happy to choke and gag on the girth of him.

Eddie came within two thrusts and Steve swallowed every drop of it as it hit his tongue and the back of his throat. Eventually, Eddie pulled back and crouched in front of a dazed, very happy Steve, and kissed him senseless.

“Now I really need to borrow a shirt,” Eddie giggled as he stood up and hurried over to the closet.

When they finally left Steve’s bedroom, they were confronted by Gareth standing at the bottom of the stairs with his arms crossed.

“What’s up, Garebear?” Eddie asked with an easy grin.

“We’re never having Hellfire here again,” Gareth started with an unimpressed glare, “if you two are going to loudly fuck upstairs while we’re all down here trying to eat.”

With that, Gareth walked away toward the kitchen and Steve grimaced.

“We’re never gonna hear the end of this,” Steve groaned, and Eddie laughed.

“Nope. Now let’s go face the music. I’m starving,” Eddie sighed, adjusting the yellow sweater he borrowed as he started walking away.

[ AO3 LINK ]

Taglist! @patchworkgargoyle, @scarcrossdlvrs, @amerikanskaya-krassavitsa (it's not letting me tag ur sideblog), @afewproblems, @mylilplanet, @steddie-there, @xenon-demon, @indigohightide I hope you enjoyed the fic!!! Please consider reblogging!! Let me know in the tags or the reblog comments if you would like to join the taglist for the other Steddie Week fics!

#steddie #steve x eddie #steddieweekafterdark #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #gerry writes

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rain-lavender-rain · 1 year

Text

"Please Turn Those Headlights Around"

Bucky x Reader One Shot

Summary: They're both scared of love, but can they find their way back to each other?

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: None, a few cuss words. Angsty with some fluff. Mentions of sex, but very brief and not explicit.

Bucky felt the slight chill in the air against his skin. It was the first sign of waking up. The second sign was the birds already singing their song, even before the sun had hit the horizon. The third? Cold.

Bucky cracked his eyes open, all the memories of the night before flooding back. The sounds of a symphony falling from your lips with his melody filling the open spaces of the tune brought a warmth that couldn't be reproduced without something specific. That specific thing was you.

His eyes opened fully, blinking away the sleep, but you weren't next to him. That's why he was cold. The chill was brought from the loss of you. He knew you were an early riser, but usually not this early. Using heightened senses, there was no sign of you. Quickly sitting up in bed, he glanced at the bedside table, and his fingers brushed across the cursive handwriting on the note that was left.

"I'm sorry."

Sorry for what? Was it something he did? Was it something he said? Bucky was at a loss.

His mind focused in on what was going on in the tower. Footsteps. Listening closer, he realized it wasn't yours. They had to be Steve's. Louder, but gentle, and more pronounced. So, quicky putting on some clothes, he got up to see his friend in the kitchen.

"Hey Buck... you okay?" Steve asked, turning around from making his coffee.

"Have you seen Y/N?" Bucky asked frantically.

"Uh, no?" Steve replied, his brow furrowing in concern. "You okay?"

Bucky sighed in response.

"I think I messed up Steve."

The blonde was still a bit confused, but a few pieces were starting to come together. He spotted the small bruise on the brunettes neck, the messy hair, the wild and dejected look in Bucky's eye and question about where y/n was all gave him a few clues.

"You're going to have to give me more than that. What do you think you messed up?" The blonde continued, grabbing his brewed coffee.

Bucky wasn't even sure how to start and he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Y/N, we- well, we slept together." he muttered.

Steve tried not to choke on his drink. His suspicions were confirmed. It's not that he was surprised per-say, in fact he saw all the unspoken strokes of flaming gentleness and love between the two of you. But, still he never thought you two would admit it to each other, or go further than the quiet touches, the glances, and unspoken romantic tension. Sam was always the one trying to push Bucky and Y/N together, whereas Steve sort of just silently supported it without being pushy.

Instead of making Bucky annoyed, he raised an eyebrow letting him know to continue.

"I think I messed up. She wasn't there when I woke up, and all she left was a note that said "I'm sorry." I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Steve was about to respond when Sam walked in from his morning run, hearing part of the conversation on the way to grab himself a cup of coffee.

"Lemme guess. Y'all had a moment or something and now she's gone?" Sam asked, seeming quite unbothered.

Both Steve and Bucky turned their heads to stare at the other man with confusion and surprise written upon their faces.

Sam sighed when no one answered the question.

"Oh come on. First off, I know how she ticks. We've been friends for a while. Second, I know her tendencies."

Steve's phone rang and he gave Bucky a look with a squeeze on the shoulder.

"I'm sure everything will be fine, Buck. Call if you need anything." He said before leaving the room.

Bucky stayed silent once again, looking to Sam to say something helpful. All that Sam did was shake his head, taking a sip of coffee before speaking up again.

"I've been around long enough to know both of you are runners."

"Runners?"

"Yes. How do I put this nicely? You two are impossible by the way. You both like to run away when feelings really start to be stirred. You avoid it at all costs because you're trying to not only protect yourself, but the other person. You're scared of intimacy, of vulnerability. So, at the first sign of it, you run. I mean you two have never addressed whatever there is between you, but the whole "thing" from last night? That was probably her moment of realization that her feelings were deeper than that of a friendship, Bucky."

Bucky just stared in complete and utter disbelief with eyebrows furrowed. Sam was right, but that didn't mean Bucky liked it.

"I'm actually surprised that she was the one who ran first." He murmured.

Bucky rolled his eyes, annoyed with Sam already.

"So, where is she?"

Sam shook his head again.

"Where does she normally go when she wants to hide from the world?" Sam answered, walking out of the kitchen.

"Wait- Sam!"

"You know where Y/N goes. But one piece of advice, don't fuck it up Barnes." He said.

A lightbulb went off in Bucky's head.

"The cabin." He whispered under his breath, before breaking out into a full on sprint to get his motorcycle. The ride that should have taken 45 minutes, took closer to 30 as he sped recklessly to where he knew Y/N would be.

As soon as turned off the bike, his feet carried him quickly towards the door, which suddenly opened.

"I'm sorry, Bucky. I'm so sorry."

The man stopped in front of Y/N, his heart wanting to flood her with his love. The gates were shut for the moment, trying to redirect the bursting love away from the city, but soon enough, the flood doors would either open, or the water would seep over the top of the wall.

"Doll, stop apologizing. It's okay." His hands wanted to reach out to cradle your face, but Bucky had to stop himself for the moment.

"No, it's not. It's not okay because- because I can't tell you how I feel. I can't say those words out loud." Your voice was cracking, the dam starting to be weakened by the flood of love in just his eyes alone.

"Y/N, it's okay. I understand." Bucky replied, trying his best to calm you.

Your voice raised with emotion. "But it's not okay, Bucky! It's not okay because I didn't see it- I didn't realize it until it was too late. And now you're going to be hurt because of me, and that's exactly what I never wanted to happen... and I can't tell you because then it makes it real and that's..." the tone of your voice lowered with sorrow and pain before you finished your sentence.

"It's terrifying."

Your eyes turned down towards the weathered wooden panels of the porch.

He gently grabbed your hands, allowing you to pull away if you wanted. Bucky was relieved you didn't.

"If there's one thing you taught me, Y/N, its that I deserve to be loved. But, so do you. And how lucky am I? How lucky am I that I get to be loved by you in any form?"

Your eyes met his in a soft allowance of vulnerability. You were met with nothing but love and understanding. It was starting to seep through the cracks in the gates of the flood wall.

"Sam, as much as he's a pain in my ass, is perceptive and he told me some things that made me think. We're the same Y/N. We run at the first sign of love because we believe its dangerous. As soon as we love in that way, we believe we will end up getting hurt, and so will the other person that we're in love with. Our views and perceptions of love aren't the same, but similar. I know it will take us both some time, and you don't have to feel the exact same way right now, but I need you to know something Y/N."

He tipped your chin to meet his eyes again and gently ran his thumb over your fingers as he held your hands.

"It terrifies me, too. But there is no one I would trust more than you with my heart. Y/N, doll. I am willing to work with you, to always be patient, to never push you, to listen, to meet you halfway, because even if I run, I know I'll run back to you."

You were silent for a moment before his name tumbled from your lips in a whisper.

The flood gates began to open on their own accord as love rushed in. Fate sealed the lovers together in a chorus filled with gentle passion. Fate knew they would fight to return to the holder of each others heart.

Y/N's hands left the soldiers and travelled towards his face in a delicate caress. Their lips met and tears traveled down the slopes of their cheeks. It was the final stamp in a promise to meet each other half way, as love rushed in to both of their hearts in a tender embrace.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic

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repurpose-yourself · 5 months

Text

One Million Points! (1/2)

It was a nerd's paradise. Or, at least, that's what Wesley thought.

Behind the seemingly blank business front was a new form of arcade gaming, where it didn't nickel and dime customers. Rather, a flat fee allowed for hours of play. Wesley liked this idea a lot, leading him to take up a part-time job at the small arcade.

Skinny and a bit conservative in how he dressed, Wesley wasn't exactly the going-out type. But the arcade was one place he felt welcome, especially amongst others with like-minded tendencies. And with this location, it catered exclusively to adults, offering alcohol and food. Wesley considered this a bonus, as adults should be kinder than the younger crowd he encountered at other arcades.

Upon entering the business, he was greeted with countless pinball machines, both vintage and new. Video games lined the walls while smaller rooms just off the main area featured dancing and racing games.

"I think I'm going to like this job a lot," Wesley said to himself, approaching the front desk.

The manager was counting money and immediately noticed Wesley, "Good evening, Wesley. Welcome to your first day at our arcade."

"Thank you, sir," Wesley replied kindly, "I have been looking forward to this for a while."

Before the manager could speak again, another man approached, "We have a slight problem with one of the pinball machines. It's out of pinballs."

"Which one?" the manager asked, eyeing the clock, "We're about to open."

"One of the Holy Grails," the man responded.

"Shit..." the manager said, before looking at Wesley, "The Holy Grail is what we call our elite vintage pinball machines. We're know for these specific models, as not many exist any more. They attract a lot of customers but they're such a pain to keep running."

"I see," Wesley responded.

"Are we out of refills?" the manager questioned, "Can we take from other machines?"

"You and I both know these vintage ones require specific diameters. We're already low and I can't take from other machines to get this one running," the man explained.

"How many do we need?"

"One. Just one," the individual responded.

The manager looked at Wesley, "Well, Wesley, looks like you're about to have an exciting first night with us. Steve, Wesley will help solve your problem. Take him to the backroom and I'll open up."

Steve wasted no time leading Wesley back. They walked through the long open space filled with various machines until they arrived at a room closed off to customers. Steve turned the handle and showed Wesley inside.

"How may I help?" Wesley asked, slightly confused as Steve shut the door.

Steve grabbed an object off the desk just to the right of the door. Before Wesley knew what was happening, something jabbed his right side and everything went dark.

"Sorry man. I promise this is only temporary..." Steve said, with his voice trailing off.

***

Wesley awoke from a sudden, unexpected movement launching him up into the air. Glancing around, the environment was dark and withholding. The new worker didn't know what to think at the moment, feeling a bit nervous now. Loud sounds echoed throughout his confines, further compounding the already burning questions he had.

Before launching into a full blown panic attack, lights and sounds erupted around him. It overwhelmed him. Wesley didn't have enough time to understand what was happening before something smacked his backside, thrusting him rapidly forward.

'What is happening?1' Wesley screamed internally as his body rounded a tight corner and passed under lights, spinning wildly out of control.

Abruptly he crashed into something metal and fell down. The urge to vomit was fierce but Wesley also realized the parts enabling this reflex didn't exist anymore. He couldn't actually vomit, even if he wanted to.

As Wesley tumbled down, something hard crashed into his body and forced him in the opposite direction. A loud 'one million points' thundered from above, followed by cheers. Wesley bounced around relentlessly, his body taking a beating. The new worker still couldn't understand what was going on, as he had little chance to assess his circumstances before being assaulted again.

More lights and sounds continued, with additional cheers. Wesley cried to himself, pleading for the pain and suffering to stop. Unfathomable motion maintained for another minute until the voice from before yelled 'ball locked'. Wesley was no longer moving but his mind was racing now, because of what he saw.

'Why are these people looking at me?!' he screamed.

Wesley watched a pinball bounce around inside the vintage machine. The man at the controls kept smacking it, knocking it into various things. Wesley felt immensely uncomfortable and wanted to escape this hell. But he didn't how to or why he was stuck inside the machine.

As the game unfolded, Wesley looked around, realizing his vision encompassed all of his body now. Feverishly looking for answers, the new worker noticed a reflective piece of metal not far from himself. Upon looking at it, Wesley couldn't believe what he saw.

'I am a pinball...'

Story content is original and human produced. Imagery created using Microsoft Bing Image Creator.

#inanimate object #inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #nonconsensual tf #unaware tf

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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months

Text

All-Inclusive

Here’s something that was also inspired by this prompt from @hotluncheddie back in January that I’ve been poking at on and off ever since. It’s 7k of no Upside Down, Steddie somewhere in their mid-twenties maybe, with brief Chrissy and Robin cameos, chubby Steve Harrington. 😜

A meet-cute: Eddie works as a masseur on an all-inclusive cruise ship, and Steve was supposed to be coming on the trip with a girlfriend (and possibly future fiancée, he has the ring packed and everything) but, well. He boards the ship alone. Which sucks, because the cruise is mostly couples and he’s all alone, filling his time swimming laps in the onboard pool and visiting the ship’s spa just to keep himself occupied.

There’s also the buffet, which clears out most days if he times it right, shows up when most of the couples go ashore for day tours and just hangs out in there for a change of scenery from his cabin or the pool, sometimes until it gets crowded again. If he overdoes it on the complimentary drinks sometimes, so what? He’s on vacation. If the drinks lead to losing track of just how many times he’s gone back to the buffet to reload his plate or how long he’s been in the dining hall, who cares? It’s not like there’s anyone with him to notice.

And anyway, he wants to lose track. He’s hungry, why bother with thinking about it when he could just eat and enjoy himself? That’s what vacations are for.

Eddie, meanwhile, is really starting to sweat every time Steve shows up on his schedule—which is most days, sometimes twice. He finds out that Steve keeps asking for him specifically, even though Steve isn’t one of the talkative ones, just sort of zones out during his massage and goes completely relaxed under Eddie’s practiced hands. So, like, it’s safe to say that Eddie is becoming pretty familiar with most of Steve’s body, and he notices the cumulative effects of the ship’s all-you-can-eat food and drink. He definitely notices the way Steve seems to be getting more sensitive by the day and sometimes it’s all Eddie can do not to react to the punched out little noises Steve makes more and more often.

At first Steve asked for Eddie because he feels more comfortable with a guy touching his body right now, and… okay, the other masseurs aren’t as pretty. But he’s on vacation, okay? And wallowing, but he’d prefer not to wallow too much. He’s known he’s bisexual pretty much forever but never had much chance to act on it beyond making out with some guys in college, no one he ever felt much of a spark with. But Eddie? After a while Steve asks for him because he thinks he does feel some sort of electricity between them, even though everything always stays strictly professional.

They’ve never even had a real conversation—until one night, when Eddie is covering the poolside bar for a friend and Steve parks himself on a stool, his swim trunks maybe a little snug but still acceptable to wear in public. When he rests his elbows on the bar and leans forward to order, he catches the way Eddie’s eyes flit down to where his arms are pressing his hairy, softening pecs together into the faintest suggestion of cleavage, then dart back up with a slight flush to his cheeks and oh, Steve likes that. Likes that when Eddie looks him in the eye after his gaze is a little darker, a little bit wilder. Likes the tattoos that are on display, the piercings he usually takes out when he works in the spa, and the hint of stubble on his face.

By the end of the night, Steve can’t even remember the name of the girl he was supposed to be on the cruise with, and it’s not just because he’s tipsy and overly full from sitting belly-up to the bar for hours, Eddie passing him appetizers he hadn’t ordered more often than the drinks he did. He is, however, becoming very familiar with the taste of Eddie’s mouth as they stumble into his cabin. The waistband of his swim trunks is rolling down under the weight of his full belly but he doesn’t even care, can’t think of anything but the way Eddie is pulling him along by a firm grip on his hips. Massaging love handles he didn’t quite have at the start of the cruise, tugging and leading him through the kiss until Eddie’s calves come up against the bed.

Eddie falls backward and pulls Steve down with him, onto him with a moan. He doesn’t even pause the kiss to catch his breath, just gets more frantic with his mouth and his hands, and Steve has never felt more manhandled or wanted in his life.

A while later, once they’re sated and cleaned up and resting, and Steve is sprawled on his back with Eddie half cuddled up half sprawled over him, practically curled up around Steve’s belly like a contented cat, Eddie asks, very quietly, if it’s alright if he stays the night.

Because Eddie has dated, but never anything that progressed from dating to in a relationship; he’d never seen the appeal of it, or met anyone he clicked with enough to try. With Steve, though… They’ve been talking for hours and never once has Eddie gotten bored, enamored with the slightly bitchy side of Steve that comes out sometimes during their banter.

And he’s never been with anyone who’s accepted food they didn’t ask for so easily. Not all of the guys he’s been with have liked the particular attention he pays to their bodies, the way he wants to worship the parts of them that are soft, but Steve has always been so responsive—even in the spa, when touches were strictly professional, making those noises that had Eddie thinking about every unsexy thing he could call to mind in order to avoid any outward signs of how much it affects him. Tonight, not only has Steve let him touch those places, he’s reveled in it. At one point he’d gone so far as to drag Eddie’s hands to his belly, plump lip caught between his teeth until Eddie grabbed and squeezed and kneaded, and his mouth fell open in a beautiful moan as he’d arched into the touch.

So Eddie asks, and Steve just smiles and runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweaty curls, and says of course, he can stay as long as he likes.

After that, they meet up almost every night in Steve’s cabin. The cruise boasts 24/7 room service, and occasionally they put that to the test… which is Steve’s idea, actually. Glancing over at Eddie one night, eyes heavy-lidded after sex, and asking, “Why’d you keep bringing me food that night, at the bar?”

Eddie pulls a lock of hair across his mouth to hide the half smile half nervous wince it’s doing against his express wishes, and deflects with a question of his own. “Why’d you keep eating it?”

Steve shrugs. “I like to eat. It’s kind of why… Well. You know how this is a two-person cabin?” It’s not something they talked about that night at the bar, but Eddie has wondered. “My ex wanted to go on a vacation, so I took time off work and booked this, but… when she found out about the all-inclusive part, she said she didn’t want to come with me if I’m just going to…”

“Eat?” Eddie guesses softly, after Steve trails off.

“Yeah.” He looks down at his belly, which is bloated as usual, and presses a hand to it. Lets his fingers press in as much as they can—not much, towards the top, but leaving soft divots that go deeper as he drags his hand down. “I’ve always liked it. And I don’t mind gaining weight from it, but I’ve always been in the minority there.”

Breath catching in his throat, Eddie drops his hair to lay his hand over Steve’s. “Right there with you, sweetheart.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth he wants to swallow them up, worried that he’s been too forward, shown just how much his stupid heart is on his sleeve way too soon in what to Steve might just be a vacation fling.

But Steve just hums and lifts his belly a little, wobbling it slowly up and down with Eddie’s hand still along for the ride. “Thought so,” he says with a shy little smile. “I like that. I really like you, Eddie. And I want… I mean, if you don’t mind…”

Every inch of Eddie is buzzing to hear where that sentence is going, his cock slowly stiffening back to attention at Steve’s hip. Thinking of that night at the bar, Steve sitting there in just his swimsuit, not even a shirt, and gradually but steadily putting away everything he was given.

“I’m hungry,” Steve finishes, cheeks flushed and eyelids drooping a little further, because he can feel exactly how interested Eddie is and feels an answering stir between his own legs.

So, room service. While they’re waiting, Steve shows Eddie the contents of his suitcase—a range of incrementally increasing sizes because he’d guessed, he’d known, he’d planned. Plus some things that had already been a little tight on him when he’d boarded.

Steve accepts the delivery in sweatpants and a button-down shirt that strains at the buttons, showing tanned skin and chest hair through the gaps. Faint, clothing-imposed rolls on his front to match the ones starting to form more naturally on his sides and back.

Eddie stands behind the door when the food arrives (because he’s not technically supposed to fraternize with the passengers, as a member of the crew), watching. He can’t see which waiter it is. Despite the all-you-can-eat nature of the cruise, they don’t actually get a lot of this, and he can imagine several of his fellow crew members having truly amusing reactions… and a couple who would, silently but effectively, be absolute dicks. But Steve just seems pleased to get the food, nudging the door closed with his foot and presenting Eddie with the large, silver-domed tray because—and Eddie is still inwardly reeling from this in the best goddamn way—he wants Eddie to hand-feed him.

This cruise job was just supposed to be a way to kill his summer, build up his resume, and avoid apartment hunting. You know, after his latest Craigslist roommate situation went sour from his weird sleeping patterns, poor memory for doing his half of the chores, and habit of learning songs on his guitar by ear, the same track set on repeat for hours at a time. His life is kind of a perpetual disaster. And now Eddie finds himself sitting on the plush lap of one of the hottest guys that’s ever so much as looked in his direction. Steve isn’t even watching the food in his hand, he’s watching Eddie, trusting him to get the next bite to his lips. It’s heady and sweet, that confidence in him even though they’re still practically strangers.

When Steve is full, he guides one of Eddie’s hands to his packed belly and presses needily into the touch. But there’s still food left, and it feels so freeing to moan “Keep going, keep, keep feeding me Eddie…”

No one has ever seen this much of him before, both physically (as the stretch marks can attest to) and intimately. Steve knows they don’t really know each other yet, but he wants to. There’s potential here, he feels it in every gentle brush of Eddie’s thumb against his bottom lip, a tiny encouragement while Steve struggles to chew and laboriously swallow. Every bite lands heavily in his overtaxed stomach, and when he looks down at himself he’s bigger than he’s ever been and framed by tattooed legs and he feels so warm and full and everything is perfect.

Eddie doesn’t usually have much after regular business hours, but on Tuesday nights he meets up with some of his friends amongst the staff for a dnd session. Chrissy, the bartender friend he covered for, comes to observe the game whenever her girlfriend (one of the waiters, who could talk the ears off a rock if given half a chance) is still on duty. She usually stays to help him clean up after, and she’s been good-naturedly teasing him about where he keeps disappearing to at night for a while by the time he breaks and tells her about Steve.

She studies him for a moment, then says that he seems happier. “And I’m glad, Eddie. You’re a good guy, you deserve this.” Pausing, she purses her lips. “Just be careful, okay? I really hope your Steve is one of the good ones, he seems like a sweetheart. But I’ve been on both sides of the deck and sometimes passengers can be way too good at getting what they want and just… going home. That said, if you need a plan for what to do if your supervisor finds out, Robin and I have your back.”

“Oh? Seduce you over to the working class side, did she?” Eddie jokes, because Chrissy is the quintessential cheerleader type and he knows that she grew up with money, though she’s estranged from her family these days.

Chrissy smirks. “Actually, it was the other way around. We got caught in… let’s call it a compromising situation, and right there on the spot she came up with the most elaborate lie about how we’d been long distance pen pals for years, fell in love, and only just had a chance to get together. She started rambling about how much she loved me, the details were just—That’s when I knew.”

And Eddie is well aware that he and Steve aren’t there yet. They’ve only been hooking up for a couple weeks now, and yeah Eddie has sleeping over privileges (and has to be very sneaky leaving in the morning so no one sees him but he still reports to work at the spa on time), but love? They’re not in love.

… Okay, he might be, but he has no idea about Steve.

The next night, Steve is halfway through a snack Eddie is feeding him when he says, casually, “I used to be a jock in high school, y’know.”

Eddie perks up, because Steve had maybe made some vague references before, but… “Really?” he asks, taking the pause in feeding as an excuse to look the man before him up and down. Reaching down pat and rub his bottomless pit of a stomach. “Kept up with it, I see.”

Steve hums and puts his hand over Eddie’s to encourage the groping. “With swimming, a bit. I used to be the swim team captain and basketball co-captain.”

“Really,” Eddie says, not skeptical so much as already daydreaming about Steve running around in sinfully tiny shorts. “And what would your teammates say if they saw you know?”

“They wouldn’t want to be seen in public with me,” Steve says with a laugh. “I mean, look at me.”

Eddie blinks the fantasy away and does look—at something just as good or better. Steve is back in the outfit he’d worn the first time he’d set foot in the spa. The shirt has become skin-tight, polo buttons undone to allow for Steve’s thicker neck. Arms bulging out of the sleeves. Belly pushing up and hanging out the bottom enough to reveal his navel, bulging out over tight jeans that couldn’t even button, that couldn’t even go up all the way around his thighs and ass. Spilling out because he’d been stuffed near to capacity before even putting it on, but still eating, always eating, given wholly over to a vacation daze of never letting his mouth go empty for long.

“I mean,” Steve continues, “would you?” It sounds flippant, far too casual for Eddie to really feel like it’s not secretly a serious question.

“In a heartbeat,” Eddie replies immediately, and if that isn’t wearing his heart on his sleeve… But Steve had asked, and if the shy but bright smile on his face is anything to go by that was the right answer, so what the hell. “I mean, what, you expect that to bother me? It would, but in a really good way.”

He leans down, not to kiss Steve but to mouth at the shallow hollow of his throat, nuzzling down to the chest hair peeking out through the strained v of his polo.

“I’d do exactly this on one of the deck chairs outside for everyone to see, if it wouldn’t get me fired on the spot.” He slings a leg over Steve’s and scooches down to snuggle further into his soft chest. “Partly because it’d get indecent real fast,” he adds while shoving a hand into Steve’s pants, into a painted-on pair of boxers. Peeling down the put-upon elastic band so he can easily take him in hand and give a squeeze. Steve gasps above him, his own fingers curling into Eddie’s hair like they belong there, and Eddie scooches further and presses a wet kiss just above his navel because they do, they do.

And while Steve is distracted, he reaches for the nearby plate of cheesy appetizers and lifts it towards him in offering. It balances easily atop his belly, which means Eddie can’t glance up and see his face, but that was bound to be eclipsed anyway considering what he has in mind next.

“Enjoy it, sweetheart,” Eddie tells him in a rough voice, then dives in to wrap his lips around the head of Steve’s cock. He closes his eyes as a tremor jolts through Steve’s entire body, overfilled tummy sloshing and bumping against his forehead, but just keeps working his way down with a muffled moan.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve gasps, one hand still in his hair. From the sound of it, the other is pushing food into his mouth. “‘S so—Ohfuck, makes everything taste so, mmm, so much better—Love it when you suck me off, feels like all the flavors are brighter, and I’m eating it all for you. Gon—gonna come down your throat, feed it back to you, mmmm—Make you, make it drip b-back out, so full. Eddie, god, I’m so…”

Eddie is drooling, swirling his tongue and twisting his fist the more the wetness gathered, savoring the sweet taste of Steve’s precome. He dips low and swallows around him, eyes streaming from a slight gag, but his cock is diamond hard in his own clothes. The combination of Steve’s stream of consciousness babble (increasingly just a good-muffled litany of Eddie’s name as he loses himself to the dual onslaught of sensations) and the softness of him, the press and warmth all around, is driving Eddie wild. He feels like he’s being consumed even as he bobs on Steve’s dick, eyes rolling back in his skull a split second before his throat is flooded with come and Steve’s hiccuping cry is muffled by nothing, because he’s already plowed through it all.

He wonders when the last time Steve got off without food involved.

He wonders if Steve could eat himself out of this outfit entirely, snap through it like rags and moan in sensual relief as the pinch of it all disappears.

He comes in his pants. Eddie is so behind on laundry but this is all he ever wants to do anymore.

Steve still comes into the spa at least once a day, still asks for Eddie every time. Every time he shows up, he seems to be fresh from the buffet. If it’s twice a day, Eddie can see a noticeable difference since the first visit; after a few days, Steve begins to sheepishly admit that he can’t comfortably lay stomach-down on the massage table. “Overdid it again,” he’ll say, running a hand over his belly where it juts out and pulls his shirt taut, tracing seemingly idly over red stretch marks where doughy skin peeks out the bottom but always meeting Eddie’s gaze directly when Eddie looks up from following the motion. He has shirts that would fit him still; he just chooses not to put them on until they nearly don’t.

There are whispers now, whenever Steve comes to the spa—gossiping about how he's blowing up, sometimes spilling out of his clothes in public, increasingly more often than not arriving with food still in hand. Today he shows up with a messenger bag slung over one shoulder, so pleased with himself that he’s all but bouncing on the balls of his feet; it’s full of leftovers from the buffet. Instead of a massage he asks Eddie to feed him, even though he’s already stuffed, and it’s a miracle that Eddie doesn’t come in his work uniform slacks. (He comes in Steve’s greedy mouth, instead.)

“That was so fucking hot,” Eddie tells him later that night in Steve’s cabin, popping one of the profiteroles he’d brought as a preemptive apology for the next thing he’s about to say into Steve’s mouth, “but we can’t do that again. If anyone catches us like that while I’m on duty, I will absolutely be fired and dropped off at the nearest port… No, hey—don’t pout, sweetheart, it’s just that I’ll be damned if I’m made to walk the plank before I’ve even gotten your phone number.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up, his mouth falls into a breathless oh with pastry cream in the corners, and he immediately starts patting around to get his phone out of his pocket. He’s not actually wearing pants, but it’s the thought that counts.

And it really does. They hadn’t exchanged phone numbers because they don’t need to on the ship, where they’re generally never more than a few hundred feet apart at any given time and can usually find each other within three guesses of where to look. Steve’s eagerness to exchange numbers now makes Eddie downright giddy; his eyes might even be a little damp as he places another profiterole in that perfect, sweet little oh.

They don’t actually get around to exchanging numbers that night; Steve falls asleep to his belly as tight as a drum and Eddie gently wiping traces of dessert from around his mouth with a warm washcloth. He wakes up in the morning to the sheets next to him still warm and Eddie’s phone number scrawled on a scrap of paper left on the pillow.

Yawning, he finds his phone, adds the number, and sends a first text so that Eddie will have his too. Then he dozes off again, still digesting.

When he wakes again, it’s past noon. His belly grumbles; it’s angry at him for sleeping through the breakfast buffet, even though he’s not exactly empty… but he’s not full anymore, either, and that just feels wrong now. He wishes petulantly that Eddie didn’t have to go, that he could stay and feed Steve all day, rub his belly and tell him how big he’s getting, how insatiable he is, how impossibly hungry. In the absence of food to push into his mouth Steve reaches between his legs, stroking himself as he locates his phone, tapping briefly at it with his free hand and setting it to one side before calling for more room service on the cabin phone—because the buffet doesn’t have pancakes and waffles out anymore, but he can still get them if he asks.

Throughout the call he keeps stoking, trapping the handset between his shoulder and softening cheek so his other hand can paw at himself, hefting and jiggling and squeezing and kneading, struggling to keep his voice even as he lists out everything he wants. When that’s done, he grabs his cell phone again and considers ending the video he’d been taking… but he’s so close. So close just from thinking about how much he’s had and how much more he still wants, how quickly he’s gone from normal-looking guy to fat, how big he’s eaten himself and still isn’t satisfied, doesn’t want to ever stop, and all he wants is—

“Eddie!”

Coming hard and out of breath, winded just from laying back and pleasuring himself, Steve ends the video. He’s still a quivering mess when he opens his texts to see Eddie’s responses wishing him a good morning, telling him how he almost hadn’t been able to leave for wanting to wake Steve up with his mouth. He’s a grinning quivering mess as he sends the video in response, along with the message, “Since you didn’t, I had to settle for waking up like this. Wish you were here.”

And doesn’t think until a few moments of no reply yet later that… maybe that was a little too forward for what they have.

Is it too soon? They’ve got to be more than just screwing by now, with Eddie sleeping in Steve’s bed more often than his own and exchanging numbers and how much they share about their own lives in between stuffings and fucking. But… even if they are more, it could still be too soon, right?

All his life, people have been telling Steve that he falls too fast, too willingly—because he’s a romantic at heart, and he doesn’t understand why that would be a bad thing. Except that it keeps costing him things, like his parents’ affection and now an entire almost-fiancée, and. What if it costs him Eddie too?

But he shouldn’t have worried. By the time he’s partway through an expansive breakfast, Eddie has sent a series of overheated-looking emojis, “Look what you make of me, sweetheart,” and a selfie in what Steve easily recognizes as the bathrooms in the ship’s spa. His uniform pants are down around his knees and his shirt held out of the way in his mouth, barely visible at the top of the frame, evidence of his orgasm dripping down his sleek, tattooed chest and over the hand still wrapped around his spent cock.

Steve knows how Eddie’s schedule works, and the timestamp on the messages isn’t on the hour—Eddie either had a break in clients or had excused himself in the middle of a massage just to see what Steve had sent. And then liked it so much that he had to stop and touch himself right then and there.

The very thought is enough to make Steve feel warm all over, and he finishes breakfast panting with his non-eating hand wrapped once more around his own cock, jiggling his way to a second (and eventually a third) round of coming his brains out thinking about this man.

“So,” Eddie says one night once they’re cuddled up and both spent, Steve too crammed full from stuffing himself in his room all day. Too sated to move except where Eddie’s hands strokes absentmindedly over the expanse of his stretch-marked skin—on his belly, sides, thighs, even his arms now. “What happens after the cruise? What’s next for lil Stevie?”

Steve blushes at the nickname, pleased in a way that mixes sweetly with tongue-in-cheek embarrassment in his gut, but isn’t sure how to answer. Is Eddie asking about… him? Them? Some unknown third thing?

“Well… I guess I have to go back to Indiana,” he answers hesitantly. “Um. Back to working at my dad’s company, which sucks. I’ll probably need to order a new desk chair, heh.” A brief pause, as Eddie rubs over his full stomach and massages a burp loose. “I’ll… probably have to slow down a bit. On this. Which really sucks, because I’m going to have to get used to being hungry sometimes again.”

Eddie pats his belly, seemingly entranced by the ripples sent out by even that gentle impact. “Yeah… Vacation eating doesn’t quite work in real life, does it?”

And the words are sympathetic, but there’s something sad behind them too, something resigned. Steve doesn’t think he’s messed up yet, but he’s pretty sure that he might if he doesn’t get the next few minutes right. He tries to rock a little, wanting to roll to face Eddie, but finds with another, wetter burp that he can’t; he puts a hand over the other man’s instead. “What about you? Are you… shipping out again, or heading home?”

“Home,” Eddie murmurs, not looking up from their hands. He bites his lip, then adds, “Between things. Honestly, this was meant to be a temporary gig anyway. I’ve been saving up to move somewhere less in the middle of fucking nowhere, you know? Somewhere with better job opportunities. I just… have to have enough for my own place.”

Eddie has told him before that he also has his home base in Indiana, some small town Steve would probably struggle to find on a map, with the uncle who basically raised him. His refuge in between attempts to strike out on his own, failing again and again because no one who isn’t family seems to want to live with him for long. Which is insane to Steve, because Eddie is so caring and sweet, who wouldn’t want to be constantly in his orbit?

True, he’s never seen the guy in his natural element because they’re always in his cabin, crew quarters being off-limits to passengers, but surely he couldn’t be that difficult a roommate. Sometimes Steve thinks wistfully of what it might be like to come home from a long day and fall straight into Eddie’s open arms, aware that he’s halfway in love—and that the ’halfway’ part is a lie to protect his own heart, just in case.

Steve bites back on what he wants to do (blurt out ‘Move in with me’ like a moron; he’d learned his lesson about that the hard way, ages ago) and asks, “Does, uh. Does ‘somewhere’ include Indianapolis?”

“It might,” Eddie replies just as carefully. “It could.”

“Do you ever… come up to visit? To look at apartments or do interviews or anything?”

Brown eyes flick up to meet his briefly, then back down. “I could. I mean, I haven’t much because it’s a long drive for a day trip, and unless I sleep in my van, staying overnight can get… Uh, and I don’t know anyone I could couch surf with up there.”

Taking a chance, Steve shifts his hand and twines their fingers together just a bit. “You know me. And I have a bed—I mean, a guest bed. A whole guest room, even. And a couch too, but you could have your pick.”

He spots the start of a grin while he’s still rambling and thinks with a wave of relief that he’s gotten it right after all.

It takes some figuring out, and help from a waiter that Steve has been exchanging sarcastic jokes and gossip about some of the other passengers with since pretty much day one of the cruise, but Steve finally gets to see Eddie’s room on the ship about a week before the cruise ends, on Eddie’s day off.

“Sweetheart, meet my sweetheart,” Eddie says, magnanimously letting Steve touch his acoustic guitar. “Not to be confused with my electric sweetheart, who decided to wait this one out safely on dry land.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, and doesn’t take it at all personally that Eddie lets him touch the instrument but not hold it. He’s not totally sure how to hold a guitar and wouldn’t want to drop such an obviously prized possession. “Do they have names, too?”

“The only two ladies I could ever be in a relationship with are nameless,” Eddie replies solemnly. “You’ll have to share me with them, I’m afraid.”

And then he abruptly goes red, maybe because neither of them has mentioned the R word yet and he just went and implied it like it’s a given that’s where they’re headed, and Steve can’t help himself. He leans into Eddie, crowding him against the wall—not a long way to go here, in any direction—and kisses him hungrily. (He’s always hungry; for food, for Eddie, all the time now.)

“I think I can handle that,” he tells a dazed looking Eddie before going back to examining the room. Again, doesn’t take that much time, but for such a small, blank space Eddie seems to have breathed so much life into it. Posters and polaroids taped up all over the walls, the pictures mostly behind the scenes shots on the ship. People he’s seen around and people he hasn’t. Eddie must know the waiter, Robin, too, because she appears in a number of them standing arm in arm with a more petite blonde girl who crops up in a lot of the photos. In one, she’s very clearly giving Eddie a wedgie.

“That’s Chrissy. And, uh, there’s almost a reason for that one that doesn’t make us sound like feuding second-graders,” Eddie says, following his gaze and still flushed from the kiss. Or maybe from being pushed around a little? “She was my in for getting this job. Known her for years, she’s kind of my other half… in a completely platonic way, of course.”

Steve snorts. “Well that’s good, I’d hate to be sleeping with a guy who’d date someone he let hook his underwear over his head.”

Smirking, Eddie gives him a little shove—doesn’t move Steve at all, the hand just sinks into him with little effect. “First off, she’d need a ladder for an atomic wedgie, calm down. Second, she’s so not my type.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve looks Eddie up and down, then down at himself in feigned surprise. He smooths down the front of his cheerful yellow shirt then drags his hands back up, easing his belly out from where he’d tucked it into his shorts and the hem of said polo up too. Right on cue, Eddie’s eyes drop down to watch. “I never would have guessed.” He gives himself a little jiggle. “Remind me what your type is again, baby?”

Baby. Baby. Eddie has no idea what his face does in response to that because most of his blood is roaring straight to his dick, and he’s forgotten to worry about the fact that one look under the bed would bring Steve eye to eye with several days worth of dirty laundry. Forgotten that he was nervous about sharing his private space with Steve, with all the messy edges and nerdy interests showing. But if anything, Steve seems to enjoy the mess—looking at his pictures with interest (zero recognition of any of his metal band posters or niche horror movie favorites, but Eddie can work with that), and still flirting with him.

“You,” Eddie breathes, then falls backward onto his tiny single-occupant bed and pulls Steve down with him, onto him with a moan. Kissing him so hard and frantic and completely uncoordinated.

Steve nips at his lip, causing Eddie to groan and break the kiss. He lifts up on his elbows and knees, and they both have a moment when they realize that his belly hangs down far enough to just brush against where Eddie’s cock strains against his fly, soft against hard. Then Steve smirks and leans back down onto him with intent. “Was this your plan, Eddie? Get me alone in your room and have your way with me?”

“I mean,” Eddie replies breathlessly, straining upwards trying to get another kiss. “It wasn’t not the plan.”

“Smooth,” Steve chuckles, and grants him a quick peck. “Didn’t plan it very well though, I don’t see anything here I can eat.” His eyebrows tilt and his bottom lip curves out in a pout that Eddie wants to bite. “What am I supposed to put in my mouth if I get hungry, huh?” He grinds down just right to make Eddie’s eyes roll back in his head. “Oh, wait. I guess there is one thing I can think of…”

Later, after Steve has sucked Eddie’s soul out of his dick and come into his own fist about it, then licked his hand clean with the fastidiousness of a cat who got the cream, and they’ve worked out that they can both fit on the bed if Steve lays on his back and Eddie lays half on top of him, half leaned against the wall…

After all that, Steve asks about the guitars. Ha asks about the band Eddie had in high school that practiced in a friend’s garage and played once a week at the local shitty dive bar, and about one of the dirty t-shirts under the bed (which, yes, he did notice) that matches one of the posters on the wall.

Eddie is pretty sure that he answers everything with stars in his eyes. He jokes that yeah, the posters do come with him wherever he travels, and melts when Steve asks if he’ll bring them when he visits him in Indianapolis. “You mean you really meant that? About me staying with you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Steve replies, smiling. “I really like you, Eddie. I don’t want this to just be some vacation fling.”

“Me neither.” Eddie’s arm tightens around him in a brief squeeze. It sets off a grumble in Steve’s empty, impatient stomach that makes them both giggle. “Ready to sneak back out again, big boy? I can text Robin to whip us up another distraction, and to have a snack sent to your cabin.”

Steve stretches under him, warm and pliant like the world’s snuggliest teddy bear. “Mmm, yeah. Make it a big one, that was a lot of exercise just now. I had to do a lot of the work, you know.”

“Well that won’t do,” Eddie teases, giving him a kiss before rolling off to find his pants, and in them his phone. “I’d better make sure my little ex-jock don’t have to lift a finger for the rest of the day, huh?”

When Steve sits up, Eddie has a perfect view of the way his side rolls and belly stack up atop one ever-thickening thigh. The luscious fruit of night after night of heady indulgences, day after day of Steve marathon-stuffing himself at the buffets, insatiable. So perfect that Eddie wants to swoop in on him again, but he knows it will be even better if he can slide more treats past Steve’s plump lips, spoil him and feel his stomach swell and round out while sweet whines and whispers of please, more slip out around mouthfuls, more, please baby I need it, fill me up, never felt so good before, doesn’t feel as good if it’s not you feeding me, baby—

Eddie has to check himself that he’s not drooling. Even though the cruise is almost over he still gets to keep Steve; this is the best day of his entire goddamn life.

The last night before the cruise ends, Eddie lets himself into Steve’s cabin to find the man in question naked beneath a robe that no longer fully closes over his gut. He’d woken up early along with Eddie (who had to get to work) to start on one last lazy breakfast in bed and is still eating now, never having dressed and never having stopped. So full there are angry lines spidering over his belly and hips and he’s moaning between bites, during bites, pawing desperately at himself with one hand in a pitiful attempt to ease the ache even as his other hand still brings food to his mouth. Room service trays are scattered everywhere, scraped clean before discarded for the next, and the next, and the next.

He sees Eddie and whines wordlessly, spreading his legs wider so his belly drops between meaty thighs and almost kisses the mattress. Eddie has been watching it get closer all goddamn afternoon in the pictures and videos Steve keeps sending. The last text is bouncing around in his head like a screensaver: Baby i need you i need more.

Baby. It still gets him every goddamn time.

Eddie opens the to-go box of cake he’s brought right there on the bed, fingers in Steve’s soft hair as he croons for him to sit up, just a little bit further, come on, sweetheart, I brought what you need. Watches until Steve, on his hands and knees, starts twitching his hips and moaning face-first into his post-dessert dessert before Eddie fingers and then fucks frantically into him while he finishes the rest. Comes hard and deep inside Steve, who’s almost sobbing don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop and yes yes YES as Eddie slides a plug into his greedy, messy hole to keep him full there.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Eddie pants as he helps Steve collapse safely to one side. “Back when you booked the tickets? Just wanted to eat and eat and no one ever tell you no, hmm sweetheart? Keep you full the entire trip. Make you so much bigger by the end of it.”

Steve groans, almost slurs the words, “Fuck, don’ make me horny again, Eds… Ate s-so much, I could pop.”

Eddie shushes him, laying a finger across Steve’s sticky lips and only a little surprised when Steve responds by immediately opening them, licking and drawing it into his mouth like it might be candy. Like he doesn’t know how to respond any other way. Sucks on it instinctively and jesus fucking christ if that doesn’t make Eddie’s cock twitch again. The things this perfect man has been doing to his libido for the entire cruise is downright diabolical, it’s so amazing. He hasn’t been this on the cusp ready to go again so fast since he was a goddamn teenager.

So he massages Steve’s swollen, churning tummy and coos over every freckle and stretch mark, every curve and bulge the way he’d wanted to from the moment he’d noticed them beginning to form. Gleefully and deliriously egging Steve on until his dick is hard against the soft underside of his belly, ready for the next round of their last hurrah.

On the ship, anyway.

Eddie already has Steve’s address saved in his phone.

Plans saved in his calendar app to drive up and start job hunting in a mere two weeks, the longest either of them could stand to imagine being apart.

Dreams of moving there, living with Steve and having this every goddamn day. Steve has already told him he can stay as long as he wants, so they’ll see. Chrissy and Robin might swing down from Chicago and they’ll go on double dates, Steve happy to polish off any leftovers that the girls don’t want to bring back to their hotel room when they’re out on the town.

Would he have leaned so hard into it without Eddie to eat for, to seduce and impress and tip over the edge of infatuation to utter, love-soaked devotion? Maybe. But that would have been eating to fill a void in his life, in his heart. This, what they do together, the way Steve consumes and Eddie helps him push past his limits and break through to that blissful state of truly full, is beautiful. A connection that neither of them has felt before, not in any of Eddie’s casual affairs or Steve’s serial relationships. Something new and promising and bright… and big.

What started as a straightforward all-inclusive cruise might just have led to the best thing to happen to either of them in their entire lives, and Eddie can’t wait to see just how big Steve decides to get.

#wg steddie #cruise wg au #chubby steve harrington #feedee steve harrington #feeder eddie munson #no upside down au #scoops words

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steves-strapcollection · 1 year

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WIP Wednesday - A snippet of one of my Steddie Week fics ;p

So I gave @scarcrossdlvrs a choice between my wips and this is what they chose sooooooo have this!!! The finished product will be posted on Monday over on AO3 and my writing blog, @gerrystamour CW: This fic is going to be EXPLICIT. This part of the fic is MATURE.

Steve found himself staring at Eddie’s mouth.

It wasn’t the first time he did that, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. But this truly took the cake for the most inappropriate time to do it.

It had been Steve’s bright idea to encourage Eddie to start holding the Hellfire meetups at his house, wanting to watch his boyfriend in action. He’d heard a lot about Eddie when he was in the zone, and Steve just wanted to see it. Plus, since they would be playing late that meant Steve could easily convince Eddie to stay the night and maybe, just maybe, if Eddie was super keyed-up after the game ended…

Then combat began, which meant there was a lot of bickering and squabbling at each turn and Eddie took this time to start snacking on the pretzels Steve set up behind his DM screen.

That’s where it started to go wrong for Steve.

Then Eddie started doing that thing he did, that thing Steve was certain was deliberate and designed specifically to drive him absolutely insane.

So there Steve was, half-hard and staring at his boyfriend’s mouth while a gaggle of teenagers were right fucking there, and he couldn’t bring himself to actually look away.

Eddie had started the ritual again, but this time the corners of his mouth were ticked upward in a little smirk. It was enough for Steve to tear his gaze away to take in Eddie’s whole face.

TBC

Aaaaannnd the taglist of the ppl who say they wanna read all my stuff including WIPs~*~ @patchworkgargoyle, @indigohightide, @mylilplanet, @amerikanskaya-krassavitsa, @afewproblems, @xenon-demon (i already tagged Bee lmao)

#steddie #steddie wip #steve x eddie

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cicimunson · 1 year

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New Year's (Conclusion to Christmas)

Author's note: Sorry loves, this is angsty and sweet, no smut this time! It's also a bit shorter, but I'm thinking about doing another part where Steve and the reader talk through the misunderstandings they've had?

Read Christmas first if you haven't read it yet!

Summary: It's New Year's Eve and the last thing Steve wants to do is party, especially since you left him on Christmas without saying goodbye. But Robin insists on dragging him out, and when you show up with a date, he realizes he needs to do something bold.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Female Reader, Robin Buckley, random oc Peter.

Warnings: Drinking, bit of angst, Steve is angry, fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

Steve sighs, checking his hair in the mirror. “Robin, I’d really rather stay in tonight. We could make popcorn, watch a movie-”

“Absolutely not! It’s new year’s eve and we are not ringing in the new year watching another dumb action movie on your couch. I want to drink and dance and at least have a chance at kissing a pretty girl at midnight!” She bounces into the bathroom, tugging on Steve’s arm.

“Fine. But I’m leaving right after midnight, okay? Consider me your wingman until then.”

Steve drives the two of them to the party Robin had been gushing about all week, eyes flickering between watching the road and watching her talk excitedly, gesturing wildly with her hands.

He’d been moody for days, specifically since Christmas night when he woke up and you’d been gone. He’d checked the house for a note, but you were just gone. He’d seen you in town one time since then, and you had walked past him without even saying hello.

He felt used. There was no other word for it. Yes, he knew that the two of you weren’t a budding romance, not even fuck buddies, but you could have at least kissed him goodbye, at least pretended that the time you spent together those two days meant something.

Robin hadn’t helped, telling him that he was only upset because he was usually the one that does the ditching, which was true, but honestly, he thought you were nicer than he was. Maybe he was right the first time, you only saw him as a dumb jock.

He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, Robin ushering him inside to the party and getting them drinks. He watches as Robin greets people she knows, nursing his beer from afar. He nods at people he recognizes, trying to seem polite but not polite enough that anyone will try to strike up a conversation.

You walk into the room and it’s like he’s been punched in the gut.

His eyes feast on the sight of you, your short red skirt and silver top highlighting every curve you have. Your lips are the same shade of red as your skirt and he briefly pictures he dick stained with that pretty shade. Your heels, fuck your heels, he wants them digging into his ass while he’s inside you.

He discreetly adjusts himself, hoping he’s not staring too obviously. He watches as you glance around the room, briefly making eye contact with you before glancing away. When he looks back, he sees red again, but it’s not your lips or your skirt.

It’s anger. Some douche has walked in behind you, his hand on the small of your back as he whispers in your ear. You giggle and lean into him, looking happy with the attention he’s giving you.

A date. You have a date on New Year’s. You have someone to kiss at midnight.

Steve finishes his beer and hunts for Robin.

She’s on the dance floor, laughing with a group of friends. Steve takes her arm, bending down to shout over the music.

“I don’t know if I’m gonna stay till midnight.”

She frowns. “You promised! Come on, dance with me. It’ll make you feel better.”

He jerks his head across the room and Robin’s eyes follow, seeing you curled up close to your date. Her expression falls. “Shit. You okay?”

“I’m fine. I knew it wasn’t anything serious between us. I just feel like she’s rubbing it in my face, you know?”

“I doubt that’s her intention, Steve. She probably didn’t know you would be here.”

“Hey, whose side are you on?”

“Yours, always. But I think you’re reading into this.”

“I’m not. She’s always mocked me, this is just another way for her to do it. I ought to give her a piece of my mind.”

“I would not recommend that. Come on, Steve, have another drink, dance a little!” Robin bumps his hip with hers. “You gotta get out of this holiday funk.”

Steve nods but isn’t listening. He watches you kiss your date on the cheek before heading to the kitchen.

“Steve, Steven, don’t you-”

He takes off after you before Robin can finish her sentence.

Your POV

You pour yourself another drink, sighing. Why you’d agree to come to this party tonight, you had no idea. And why on Earth you’d agree to come with Peter was beyond you. Sure, he was cute, but he wasn’t your type at all. Ever since Steve had dismissed you on Christmas, you’d felt low.

You told yourself there was nothing wrong with getting a little male attention,even if it was from someone you didn’t even like.

You turn from the drink table and almost slam into a solid chest. “Shit, man, sorry.” You apologize.

“You should be.”

You jerk your head up. “Oh, Steve, hi.”

“Hi yourself.”

“How are you?” You try to keep your eyes from roaming over him. He’s in a tight red sweater that makes his eyes look warm and soft, snug jeans that you know encase his ass perfectly.

“I’m doing okay, thanks. You seem like you’re doing okay, too.” He fails to keep the sharpness out of his voice.

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. Merely an observation.”

“Okay, then.” You move past him, shaking your head.

“Eager to get back to your date?” He taunts.

You turn back to him. “What do you care?”

“Oh, I don’t. Just couldn't help but notice you draped all over him.You should probably get a room.”

“It’s just a bit of fun, Steve. That’s all I’m good for, remember?” You attempt to walk off, but Steve snags a hand around your arm, tugging you to him.

“Let go.” You snap.

“Kiss him at midnight and see what happens. I fucking dare you, Y/N.” He hisses, his other hand landing a slap on your ass.

You flush as the sound echoes in the kitchen, people turning to see what caused it.

“Stop it. You have no right to be acting like a jealous boyfriend. You’re the one that said we’d had enough fun.”

He pauses. “That’s what got your panties in a twist?”

“Don’t think you have any effect on my panties.” You retort, but being this close to him, breathing in his aftershave is definitely having an effect on you. You fight the urge to lace your fingers through his hair and tug. You pull at your arm, knowing he isn’t going to let you go and knowing that you don’t want him to.

“Ditch him. Find me at midnight.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Go to hell.” You retort.

He squeezes your ass, then releases you, drifting into the crowd.

You realize you’ve been holding your breath the whole time, letting out a whoosh as you breathe deep. You make your way back to your date, trying not to think about Steve’s words.

Find him at midnight? Was he serious?

You realize Peter is talking but you haven’t heard a word he’s said. You smile and nod, trying to focus on what he’s saying.

Find me at midnight.

“We’ve got a minute left!” Someone calls out, everyone cheering excitedly.

Peter grins down at you, his arm slipping around your waist.

Find me at midnight.

“I’m so glad you finally agreed to a date with me, you’re really sweet, you know that?”

“Oh, thank you.”

“I mean New Year’s is kind of a big event for a first date, but if-”

“Thirty seconds!”

Steve. I want Steve.

You pull away from Peter. “You’re right, New Year’s is a lot of pressure for a first date.”

“But-”

You turn and rush into the crowd, searching for Steve’s red sweater.

“Twenty! Nineteen!”

Where the fuck is he?

You check around the dance floor, then look toward the kitchen.

Did he change his mind? Did he leave?

You turn and glance around the room rapidly, not seeing him anywhere.

“Ten! Nine!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You sigh. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe you aren’t meant to start your New Year with Steve. Maybe you aren’t meant to be with anyone right now. And hey, that’s okay, cause-

You yelp as two strong arms lift you from the floor, turning you.

“Three! Two! One! Happy new year!”

Steve’s mouth lands on yours and you slip your fingers into his hair, kissing him deeply. He drags the kiss out until you’re both breathless.

“Happy new year.” He mumbles against your lips.

“Happy new year.” You whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Tags: @freezaz123 @mxcheese @livsters @neewtmas @harrystylesandthegoobs @cancankiki @cal-is-not-on-branding

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington ff #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n

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once-upon-an-imagine · 5 months

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Works in Progress

Okay, this is literally every single work in progress that I currently have on my drafts!

I am the worst at summaries so I put the literal request underneath each one of them 😊 If it's not here, I didn't get the requests, loves so, let me know 😁

I know it's a lot and I really hope to get all of them up soon, it's gonna take me a while, but they are coming! if you'd like to request a preview of one, go ahead 😊 polls might come back in the future since they seem to be working somehow! I'll also be updating my Masterlists

I would like to thank you all again so much for yyour requests, love and patience!

Steve Harrington

Drabble (Untitled) [Mixing 2 requests]

1. wishingtobeforeveryoung1019 - Hey can I get a Steve and reader imagine where she works with Steve and they both like each other but they don’t realize it. They both think each other are way out of each other’s league. Can be Scoops Ahoy or Family Video, whichever you prefer. Fluffy please 2. Anonymous - Could you write a dialogue for Steve Harrington where the reader works at Scoops Ahoy and Steve and Dustin are in the back talking and Steve tells Dustin how much he likes the reader. Steve says "I really love y/n." and the reader opens the little window and says something like "you know I heard that whole conversation, right?" Steve and Dustin are both really shocked and Dustin runs out the back door, and Steve gets really flustered. And it ends with something really fluffy and cute, and they kiss. You totally don't have to write this, it was just an idea I had.

Ongoing Series - How Will I Know

You have walked the halls of Hawkins High unseen. If it wasn’t because Eddie Munson and his Hellfire Club had found you, you probably wouldn’t even have any friends. You knew someone like your all-time crush Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington wouldn’t notice you in a million years. Until you get paired up for a project and he finally learns your name.

Eddie Munson

One-Shot - Alone Together [Mixing 2 requests]

1. mycobrakai1972 - Hello love, me again 😁 but instead of Charlie I have a Eddie request (even through they closed, so if you have to much just keep it for later or if you don’t want to, just ignore my request). So I thought about the reader is to shy to play with the Hellfire Club but she really wants too. And Eddie is thinking about a campaign that he can play only with her like a D&D date night and that has a romantic twist in it? Love your writhing, and look forward to everything that is coming soon. 💗💗💗 2. lunamadhatter99 - Oohhh let me go with Eddie and a shy one😍 Reader is a shy, quiet one, she's always seen (IF she is seen) at the library and there is where our boy notices her, reading basically a book a day. He's a little shy himself, at first, more because he's worried his reputation would scare her, but one day he tries sitting at the same table and... oh boy, when she smiles at him, he's done. He would start slowly: small talk, little glances in the hallway too, making jokes every now and then. To make her feel comfortable, first thing, always. He would start to flirt, careful not to cross any line, but he made her feel so at ease that she. Flirts. Back! But that only means that he need to try try harder to see that sweet blush he loves so much😏

Ongoing Series - There Are Worse Things I Could Do

[Harrington!Reader] Your senior year was supposed to be the best one in your life. But when Jason broke up with you and turned the entire school against you by spreading rumors about you, you can count with your hand the people that talk to you. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Nancy, and Robin. But there might be a new one you can add to the list. One you never thought possible. Eddie Munson.

Argyle

One-Shot - A Kind of Magic (might become a drabble)

Anonymous - Heyo! I’m the anon who requested the learning disability imagine! Talking specifics, I’ve got major dyscalculia & a bit of dyslexia. Social anxiety also didn’t help being called on in class, but yea 😅 thanks for asking!! 🥹🥹🥹

Dialogue (Untitled)

Anonymous - So I saw your post about shy!reader x anyone and I was wondering if you could do shy!reader x argyle where he introduces you to his friends in Hawkins (the older teens) and reader doesn't have like the best experience meeting new people so their scared and wants to like not see them because they have social anxiety and like he cuddles then I'm the end ( I always need Argyle cuddles)

One-Shot - Cielito Lindo

Not requested - [Byers!Reader] Argyle is staying with your family when his parents are out of town. You know he’s been feeling down because he has to celebrate his birthday without them. So, you try to do something to cheer him up. (Sequel to Build Me Up, Buttercup)

Ongoing Series - (500 Miles)

[Hopper!Reader] After moving to California with your sister and your new family, you think maybe you’ll finally get some peace. But, of course, you are now driving across the country in your boyfriend’s pizza van, on your way back to Hawkins.

Billy Hargrove

One-Shot - Highway To Hell [Munson!Reader]

itslaqueefababy - Hey Idk if you’re taking request but since you have writers block, Maybe a Munson!reader x Billy Hargrove? Eddie and Billy hate each other and there’s a lot of drama and tension whenever they get around each other. It’s gets really annoying and out of control that reader eventually gets fed up and upset that they don’t care how she feels. She gives them the cold shoulder and silent treatment then eventually comes up with the idea to runaway on purpose for them to get along by searching for her and all? Something funny and angsty?

One-Shot - A Little Death [Mixing 2 requests] [This might be Hartington!Reader]

1. Anonymous - Where the reader breaks up with Billy because he has been toxic and Billy goes and tries to find love in other women. But he gets frustrated because they don't touch him (physically and mentally) the way the reader always did. He gets angry trying to teach them but none come close to the actual thing until he gets so frustrated that he crawls back to her and tries everything to fix it. 2. Anonymous - “I feel like I’m falling apart.” with Billy Hargrove?

One-Shot - RIP, Love [Munson!Reader]

Anonymous - Where the reader is known to break hearts. Not because its fun for her but she does it to protect herself and the person. She is convinced that whoever gets close to her heart either ends up hurting her or she ends up hurting them so she always ends it by leaving them - ultimately hurting them before they can hurt her. When Billy starts getting interested in her and she suddenly leaves just when he thought things were going good, he doesn't back down to find out why and once he does he makes it his mission to show her that he is there to stay and protect, despite being known for leaving and destroying. 2. Anonymous - since you are taking requests, could i request a Billy fic with the following prompts from the prompt list you talked about in your latest post ? "Wake up. You have to wake up. Please. For me." "Just, please don't leave me." "I don't want you to die for me. I want you to live for me." + "As you begin to fall asleep, you feel a gentle kiss pressed to your temple and a blanket draped over you."

Steddie (Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson)

One-Shot - Running Up That Hill (I keep renaming it 😂)

Anonymous - I know you have many request and this one can definitely wait, but maybe Steddie x cursed!reader?? I need some angst and idk if this would help :/ but I understand if you don’t want to! Maybe one where reader bones end up snapping in the attic? It’s like Instead of max being cursed it’s the reader :)

Drabble - Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now

plk-18 asked - OK first of all i love your work!!! So I don’t know if your requests are still open and I’m really sorry if you already did something like that and I just forgot. But I would love a steddie one-shot, maybe they are not together yet but there is some sexual tension and we have a ‘only-one-bed’ situation👀🤍🤍

One-Shot - A Sunday Kind Of Love

Not requested - For six months, you had been fine with having a secret relationship with Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson. But that changes when a very special day for you approaches and you want them both by your side and for that to happen, a few rules might get broken.

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Sirius Black

One-Shot - Out of The Woods [Lupin!Reader] (the request focuses more on Remus and the reader so I put it under Remus for now)

Anonymous - ahh your requests are open!! I love that!! but anyway, I could make a request where Remus has a younger sister who is a year or two below him and she discovers the way the Marauders found to help him deal with his problems during the full moons and decides what she wants to do the same for her brother but Remus doesn't allow it and they just fight about it until one night she decides to follow them anyway but ends up getting hurt because she's not an animagus like the rest of the boys? If you can make her be in an established relationship with Sirius I would appreciate it and sorry if I said something wrong this is not my first language

Drabble (Untitled)

oursilversoul - Heyy❤️ could yo write a Sirius black x slytherin reader where they somehow end up dancing together in the Yule ball with an enemies to lovers undertone? Thank you I love you soo much :)

Ongoing Series - Just Give Me A Reason

[Snape!Reader] Coming back for another year in Hogwarts meant you and your brother were away from your worst tormentor. But when your school tormentor finds out about it, things are about to change and you are not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. (Warning: mentions of abuse)

Remus Lupin

Dialogue (Untitled)

Anonymous - Hiii i don’t know if u are writing now but i’d love to read your take on remus being unconscious for a prolonged amount of time after transformation and fem!reader taking care of him and talking to him. fast forward to him waking up and confessing he heard everything she said while he was sleeping. i just love the way you write and it would be fun to read it!!

Drabble (Untitled for now)

2. Anonymous - HI! Could you do the prompt “We’ve been by each other’s sides for years, you think I’m gonna leave now?” With Remus Lupin where they're still in school and someone really close to the reader (like someone in their immediate family) died and the reader is miserable and asks Remus not to leave her too? Btw your work is amazing!

Ongoing Series - Too Good At Goodbyes

Twelve years ago, Lily and James Potter were brutally murdered. Twelve years ago, Sirius Black was sent to Azkaban for a crime he did not commit. Twelve years ago Remus Lupin left you to take care of a one-year-old Harry on your own. Twelve years ago Severus Snape was the only person who was there for you. And now, Remus is back to teach at Hogwarts with you, as Harry courses his third year, and Sirius Black escaped Azkaban.

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Charlie Weasley

She Is Love (One-Shot) [Mixing 2 requests]

1. Anonymous - something about a shy reader, who's friends with the twins. Charlie and the reader have a crush on each other and he loves to see her blush and get all nervous, so it's like his mission to make her blush a lot, she kinda likes it though. But when someone else does try to tease the reader, not in a comfortable way, unfortunately, Charlie comes to the rescue and later on confesses his feelings. 2. Anonymous - I am begging for Charlie kissing shy!reader for the first time please

One-Shot - I'm Yours [Mixing 2 requests]

1. Anonymous - One where he gets jealous because of how close you’ve always been to Fred and George, even though Charlie really has nothing to worry about. 2. Anonymous - I have a dialogue request for Charlie Weasley and “Pay attention to me” where maybe the reader is friends with the twins and she’s having a ‘situation’ with charlie that no one knows about?

Drabble (Untitled)

Anonymous - Hi friend! Can I interest you in a dialog prompt for Charlie Weasley and “I’m sorry but I love you and I’m not going anywhere?”

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Evan Buckley

Drabble or One-Shot (Untitled)

Anonymous - Could I request a Buck x plussize reader? One where someone says something mean about the reader and buck defends her and comforts her after? Idk I just feel like I need some buck fluff in my life 😂

Drabble or One-Shot - Late Night Talking

Anonymous - Can you write a Buck x reader fic where they both work at the 118 and are really good friends. They both have a crush on each other. One night reader comes to visit him at his apartment because she doesn't want to go home(she still lives with her parents and they have a argument or something) Buck is happy to see her but also knows that something is wrong. They spend some time together and maybe there is a love confession at the end.

Eddie Diaz

Drabble or One-Shot - Cramps

Anonymous - One being eddie and the reader are going about they're day. Reader feels unwell but thinks nothing of it until they get back from a call/at the end of one and reader has appendicitis so they rush her to the hospital? Eddie is there when she wakes up and looks after her.

Drabble or One-Shot - Proposal

Anonymous - eddie is planning to propose to reader and he's all fluffy and cute about it?? Maybe gets Chris involved and the team are congratulating them? All fluffy and cute again.

#steve harrington imagine #eddie munson imagine #argyle imagine #billy hargrove imagine #steddie imagine #james potter imagine #sirius black imagine #remus lupin imagine #charlie weasley imagine #theodore nott imagine #evan buckley imagine #eddie diaz imagine #stranger things imagine #marauders imagine #harry potter imagine #9-1-1 imagine

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