#bit i kind of miss the soft eddie part

[unclewaynemunson]

It wasn't the first time Eddie woke up to an empty bed after having someone spend the night. But it for sure was the first time it caught him by surprise.

He had been pretty sure things were different, with Steve. There was a real, proper date before they ended up in Eddie's bed together, after all. They held hands, they cuddled, they did all the romantic shit that Eddie used to scoff at and skip right past, before he got to know Steve Harrington. It hadn't felt like it was just about the sex: there had been tender touches and sweet words and soft kisses, and falling asleep in each other's arms afterwards had felt more intimate than anything Eddie had ever experienced before. So it didn't make sense to wake up and see no trace of Steve. No note, not a single piece of evidence that Steve had been there, not even something as dumb as a forgotten sock. Nothing.

As he went through his morning ritual of coffee, cereal and cigarette, he felt confusion make place for anger. By the time he was dressed and looking at himself while brushing his teeth in front of the crappy old bathroom mirror, he wondered how he could ever have been stupid enough to think that Steve would stay. The realization that Steve had apparently only used him to get what he wanted and dropped the act as soon as that happened, made him feel gross. He spit out his toothpaste with way more force than necessary and jumped in his van to tell Steve exactly that Eddie wasn't the kind of guy who tolerated being toyed with like that.

-----

When Eddie barged into Family Video, Steve was standing at one of the shelves with a big pile of tapes in his arms, the store empty and quiet except for some movie playing on the big screen in the background.

He looked up at the sound of the bell, and actually had the audacity to smile a soft, almost tender smile when he saw Eddie coming in.

"Hey there."

And, well, that truly did it for Eddie.

"Hey there?!" he repeated in a loud, shrill voice. "Seriously, Steve? What the hell, man? You sneak out of my bed after making me think what we did actually meant something, and now you greet me with a "hey there" like nothing has even happened?!"

Steve frowned; he looked genuinely surprised. Seriously, had none of the dozens of girls he probably pulled this on ever told him off? Or were they all worth staying for, contrary to Eddie the Freak Munson?

"Wha- What do you mean, making you think it meant something?" Steve stuttered. "It meant something. At least," he shrugged lightly and his cheeks colored into a light shade of pink, "to me it did."

For obvious reasons, Eddie found that a little bit hard to believe.

"Then why the hell did you sneak away at the crack of dawn like it was just some goddamn one-night stand?!"

Steve stared at him for a couple of seconds, his mouth falling open. Eddie had seen him look confused plenty of times before, but never like this - like he was missing something huge.

"I - I was allowed to stay?" Steve finally uttered. And it sounded so genuine, so small, so lost... All Eddie's anger easily got knocked out of him with that one question.

"You thought you weren't allowed to stay?" he asked, in a much softer voice this time.

Steve shrugged, suddenly avoiding Eddie's gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just assumed..." He swallowed visibly, seemingly searching for words. Finally, he fixed his eyes back on Eddie's face. "You actually wanted me to stay?" It sounded equal parts confused as hopeful, and the look in his brown eyes was so soft and innocent that it almost broke something inside of Eddie.

"Why the hell did you think I wouldn't?"

"I dunno, I just thought..." He looked away again, to a point just behind Eddie's shoulder as he continued, "Whenever a girl would come to my place, they'd always leave right after we finished. Or when I'd come to theirs, they'd have me leave through the window before their parents would notice. Some of them wanted to cuddle for a bit afterwards, but not, like, the whole night, y'know."

"Fuck, Stevie... I -" Eddie could barely believe what Steve was saying; it truly blew his mind that there were so many people who could have Steve Harrington in their bed and not want to keep him there forever. It made him furious - not at Steve, obviously, but at those girls who had made this perfect boy believe that he wasn't the kind of person people would want to keep around for what came after the sex.

"Falling asleep with you last night... That was the best thing that ever happened to me," he told Steve. It felt vulnerable, to say it out loud, but he knew he had to get it all out in the open. "I mean, don't get me wrong, the things we got up to before falling asleep were also pretty damn mind-blowing..." He couldn't help but chuckle. "But of course I wanted you to stay. I thought that would speak for itself."

"Oh," was the only thing Steve said, just blankly staring at Eddie for a couple of seconds. Then, his eyes widened as Eddie's words finally seemed to sink in. "Shit, Eddie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to -"

"It's okay," Eddie cut him off. "Can you uh," he nodded towards the video tapes in Steve's hands, "Put those away, please?"

Steve placed the pile on the shelf behind him and Eddie immediately launched himself into his arms, pulling him as close as humanly possible without crushing his bones.

With a surprised Oomph! Steve took a few stumbling steps backwards before he caught his balance again, and hugged Eddie back just as tight.

"I'm really sorry, I messed up," he said, his mouth close to Eddie's ear. "I had no idea. If I had known, I would never have left, seriously. I would've called in sick and made you pancakes, and I would've stayed with you in bed all day."

"It's okay," Eddie repeated. "I mean, it's frankly ridiculous that you'd assume I wouldn't want you around every single fucking morning from now on, but -"

"So can I make it up to you tonight?" Steve interrupted him, an eager undertone to his question. "Or actually tomorrow morning, I guess?"

Eddie leaned back slightly to see Steve's face. He was hesitantly smiling at him, and Eddie gave him a beaming smile in return. Then, he leapt forward again to press an impetuous kiss against Steve's lips.

"How 'bout you make it up to me every day from now on, big boy?"

"I dunno, making you pancakes every day from now on is a bit much, don't you think?"

Eddie laughed. "Then the deal's off, sorry."

"What if we take turns?"

He pretended to think for a moment. "Alright, I think I can live with that," he finally concluded, letting Steve pull him closer again to steal another kiss. And as long as he could taste Steve's lips, he couldn't care less about pancakes.

[steviewashere]

Thinking about a fic idea right now where Steve comes out (maybe with a little Steddie...maybe; might be best to start them pre-relationship in this). Walk with me here.

Steve Harrington who has always been a huge Wham! fan. And then eventually a huge George Michael fan. He's got all their albums. Collects magazines with interviews in them (y'know, if there's a U.S. release). So, he's pretty much up to date with all news, music info; that kind of thing. He's always on the money about when interviews are.

George Michael who comes out publicly in 1998 after his arrest. Which, you can watch the clip from the interview here. He's thirty-four at the time, had been private about his sexuality and romantic life up until then.

Steve who's freshly in his thirties.

He's thirty-one. He's had some thoughts in regards to his sexuality for years now. Since Robin came out to him in 1985, he's thought about little things. The way certain guys walked that caught his attention, maybe the plushness of their lips, how they styled their hair. She's introduced him to queer culture at the time—pride parades & protests, some lingo, the handkerchief code, etc. So, he's well aware of a lot of things before the CNN interview airs. He hasn't made any hard connections between his sexuality and the thoughts in his head; maybe he's had a few, soft, questioning moments like: Am I gay? Am I bisexual? Is this what I really think or am I searching for something I don't actually want? Am I just being too observant?

(Okay, thinking about pre-Steddie now. And a lot of platonic soulmates Stobin. Also, I totally (accidentally) half-wrote a fic. Stay with me here.)

Eddie's been a part of Steve's life since 1986. Somehow he survives (don't ask me the fine details, I don't know). And Steve tries his hand at being Eddie's friend because he kind of—no, really—wants a guy friend who's around his age. Cue their shenanigans: the chaos they cause together, the pranks they pull on their other friends, the shit Eddie makes Steve get into (drag racing (cars), stealing scrap from the junkyard, throwing rocks over the quarry to guess the impact they made, other little town shit). Eddie who learns that Steve's a true ally to Robin, so he comes out to Steve, too. They all form a very great, deep bond of solidarity. Become roommates outside of Hawkins, somewhere a little more progressive. They protect each other. Listen to each other.

Cue the day in 1998 when the CNN interview is being aired live, unseen up until then. Steve's already ready to watch, having taken up the middle cushion on the couch. Robin's on his left, criss-cross and making a set of beaded bracelets for the three of them. Eddie's on Steve's right, uncapping a couple bottles of beer to pass over. And they're watching with Steve because Steve likes George Michael and, well, they like Steve and his interests. So they're all there when George Michael comes out. They're all there when the words are said live.

Robin and Eddie are wide-eyed, then laughing something a bit triumphant, high-fiving over Steve's head, maybe chanting something: "One of us! One of us!" Maybe becoming huge George Michael fans as they speak. But, Steve's silent. He's sitting on the edge of his cushion, palms down on his thighs, staring off into nothing. All the celebration stops as the interview continues, words being missed. And Robin and Eddie share an odd glance, a questioning one. Until, finally, Robin asks, "Steve-O? You OD over there?"

Steve blinks back into existence. Mutters, "Did George Michael just come out on live TV?" Eddie answers him truthfully, voice a bit soft and concerned. Steve licks his lips, doesn't move his eyes from his socked feet. "...He knew for a little while," he comments. "Right? He knew for a while."

"Sure, Steve," Eddie answers again. "He probably knew about himself for a long time. Probably...Honestly, probably while he was still in Wham."

Maybe Steve nods at that. Maybe he just stays kind of stoic, thinking too hard. "He's thirty-four," Steve points out.

"That he is," Robin answers this time. "Thirty-four and proudly out."

Steve hums some sort of acknowledgement and then goes back to watching the TV, moment drifting away. He sort of watches in a daze. Up until he turns in for the night. Well after Robin has slumped over on the couch and Eddie's gone to bed earlier—because he has work, or so Eddie's said. And Steve maybe sits in his bedroom, up at his headboard, looking down at his albums. At his Wham! and George Michael albums. Turning the tapes over in his hands, reading the track lists, maybe tracing the edges of the cases with his thumbs. Thinking about how George had said he was telling his life story, even through some of his earlier solo work. He's thinking about how successful George Michael has been. And then he thinks about how George Michael came out later in his life. In his thirties, not in his twenties, not in his teens. Sure, yes, it was definitely more negatively criticized to do so, but it means something to Steve. To be thirty-four and freshly out. And he thinks, too, about being thirty-one and things clicking into shiny clarity—he's into guys, too. He's into women, but he's into guys. That word, "bisexual" looking like the final jigsaw piece. To be thirty-one and proudly out, too.

And he's comforted in that thought, as he drifts off to sleep.

And when he wakes up in the morning, he bustles around Eddie and Robin in the kitchen. They make a shared breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage and toast with jam. They sit at the dining table, forks against plates, shooting the shit back and forth.

Steve cuts a slice of sausage, puts it in his mouth, eats as usual. And just as the conversation is beginning to drift again, he finally speaks what's on his mind. "I'm bisexual," he's able to proudly state.

Maybe Eddie and Robin cheer, too for that. They ask him for his taste in guys. Maybe they tease him a little. Maybe Eddie realizes he fits the bill a little; maybe he waits a little bit before taking a shot, but he still does eventually.

And right before they head off for their respective, regular lives outside of the comfortable space of their apartment, Robin knocks their shoulders together. "Proud of you," she states. "Thirty-one and proudly out. How does it feel?"

They're in the kitchen, washing and drying the dishes because Eddie left for work already with a promise to bring home pizza for dinner. They're in the kitchen, the lights a little fluorescent like the Starcourt bathroom. They're in the kitchen, in each other's orbits, two friends who've seen it all and will continue to see the world together.

"It feels...I feel good. Excited."

Robin smiles at him, something soft and understanding. And as his focus goes back to the plate he's about to hand off, she snorts. "So, Eddie, huh?" And he scoffs, rolling his eyes. She just laughs to herself. Then, when she's calmed a little bit, she states, "He kind of looks like Rowlf. You and I have a thing for Muppets, Stevie. Muppets."

And after their laughter dies down and they live out the rest of the day, Steve thinks about how he can send a letter of thanks to George Michael. And maybe he cherishes those albums a little closer. And he is confident in himself for the first time in a while, all because the representation he didn't know he was seeking, is finally right in his face.

Sorry that got long. But I'm just thinking about Steve who comes out later in his life. Maybe he couldn't make those connections because he didn't have the safe atmosphere to do so; feared the worst if his parents ever realized he didn't care too much about women sometimes, if his eyes drifted to men a little too much, fearing that they'd catch his contemplation. Maybe he found his safe space through Robin and Eddie, but needed a little more of a push and he just didn't find it yet. Up until now.

[kneazle]

A snippet of the Tommy & 118 fam fic I been trying to write

Tommy yawned as he walked into the kitchen at Bobby and Athena's from outside, part of him yearning for his bed when the tired, heavy feeling returned. He grabbed a beer from the fridge but leaned against the counter instead of heading back out there. Tommy yawned again and took a sip. While everyone outside was off shift today, he himself had just come off one, but there was no way he was missing one of the 118 get-togethers no matter how much he longed for sleep. 

"Hey Tommy." He blinked his eyes open, not realizing he'd even shut them.

He rubbed his eyes and smiled, "Hey May."

"You know, no one would fault you for going home," She reached into the fridge for an iced tea. "You look like you could use a good night's rest." 

Tommy chuckled, "Are you saying I look terrible?" He knew he could go and everyone would understand, but he hated to miss out– and Tommy knew a good sleep wouldn't happen without Evan there. They didn't sleep together all the time as their work schedules didn't always line up, but Tommy slept better when Evan was there.

"No!" May rolled her eyes with a soft laugh, "Just tired, and I heard Buck tell the others you got off a long call right before the end of your shift."

"I'm alright I promise. Now, why are you here talking to me instead of out there?" 

May bit her lip and fiddled with the label on her drink, "I wanted to ask a favor."

"Sure, you name it."

"Will you teach me how to fight? Or defend myself..anything really– if not it's okay it was a silly idea–" 

"May!" Tommy interrupted raising an eyebrow, "Of course I can, it might be a bit difficult with our schedules but we can make it work."

May breathed out a sigh of relief before sending him a beaming smile, "Thank you Tommy! Seriously." 

"Is there a reason why you suddenly want to learn?"

"I–" She sighed, "Don't tell mom, but there's been a string of attacks on campus, nothing real bad but enough to have us all a bit rattled."

"May–"

"It's okay really!" She gave him a reassuring smile, "I'd like to be prepared for more than just throwing a punch if needed, that's all."

Tommy tilted his head, squinting his eyes slightly at her before sighing, "Fine, but you know she probably will find out at some point– it's Athena."

"If it comes to that then I'll deal with it."

"Any particular reason why you're asking me though?" He gestured out to the yard, "You have other options like Eddie for example, you might be more comfortable with someone you're familiar with."

May wrinkled her nose at him in confusion, "I asked you, didn't I?"

"You–" Tommy gaped for a second, "What?"

"We don't see each other much, but Buck talks about you so often that it doesn't even matter," May smiled, "I know I can trust you not to say anything and besides, Buck is kind of like an older brother to me which means you'll be one too when you get married!"

Tommy's eyes went wide, his jaw dropped as he sputtered. May grinned and backed away before taking off for the backyard, her gleeful laugh ringing out in the room leaving him behind stunned.

[winterbuckwild]

@flowercrowngods So sorry...

"Hey Robin, I think we have been missing each other, been a while. Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Hope you are having a great day. Guess ill..er...catch you later."

It had been nearly a year since he'd actually spoken to Robin. She'd gone to college across the country, so excited to finally get away from Hawkins; away from all the drama and trauma and pain, and Steve couldn't fault her for it. She was smart she had a dream and she was following it. And he loved that for her.

The phone calls started at a few times a week. Quick ones because they were both pretty broke, but it quickly became once a week when classes started. Every fortnight during exam season, and then an elaborate game of phone tag for a good three months when his shifts and her classes didn't match up.

Around month 7 he had sort of...given up. It had made him feel like a bit of a stalker in the end, his three phone calls to every one of hers, leaving shorter and shorter messages on her machine. He still wanted to talk to her every day, to tell her about the good things that had started happening to him.

How he'd gone to the library to figure out a sink issue and was too broke for a plumber and found out that he was pretty good with his hands. That he'd enrolled in trade school and was excelling. That he liked someone and he thinks it could be serious.

That the person he liked was a guy and that he was kinda scared and kinda excited and wanted someone to talk to about it. That the guy was Eddie of all people.

He wanted to gush about Eddie the way she used to with Vickie. That his hair was soft and his eyes were soft and his hands when he touched Steve were perfect and kind while his dimpled grin was wicked and promising. That Eddie was brave as fuck making the first move and patient with Steve's minor freak out that he was going through alone.

Eddie had helped him instead.

So it had been three months since Steve had tried calling, and he hadn't had a single message. No calls that he knew about and his machine worked fine. His number hadn't changed. He left the message as closure really, leaving a space in his heart for the friendship that changed him for the better, a friendship that he would always be grateful for. That he would always cherish.

But he couldn't keep waiting around, banging his head against that brick wall. He would always be there if she needed him but, well, she didn't really, did she? Not anymore.

He hung up the phone and grabbed his van keys. He'd traded in the beemer a month ago since he would need the space for tools eventually and it was like shedding that last little part of King Steve. The final nail in that coffin and he felt an odd sense of relief.

He was meeting Eddie before class, they were going to grab some lunch beforehand and then after come back and start packing up the apartment. Steve was moving in with him and he couldn't be more excited about it. He'd told Eddie that and the other man had beamed at him, just as pleased.

He didn't think about not having anyone else to tell.

[ghost-proofbaby]

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

HOUR TEN

in which you and eddie find out just how much can happen on the roof of a parking garage. a scary criminal could show up, a phone call could interrupt important moments, a bit could go too far, and... marriage vows could be exchanged?

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

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, one (1) use of y/n, minors dni

→ wc: 8k+

→ a/n: if this is bad don't hmu. i returned to my wordy girl roots. also shout out to @br0ck-eddie and @big-ope-vibes for beta reading this for me <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

10:00 ─────ㅇ──────────── 24:00

HOUR TEN - 1:00 AM

Eddie is an erratic driver, which you should have known, but it doesn’t make you any less scared as he takes the empty curves of each street with intense speed. It doesn’t make you loosen your grip as you press into him as tightly as possible, practically molding your body to his. 

You’re just grateful he was right – you didn’t see another soul for the entirety of the five minute drive. And if you did, you would have been mortified for them to see the way you clung to him. 

His secondary location is a parking garage. If it were anyone else, if it were even so much as Eddie from ten hours before, sirens would be going off in your head and screaming for you to run as far as possible from this situation. 

You don’t. Because it’s Eddie, and it’s Eddie being kind and flirty and civil. A new version of Eddie, and a new version of you. 

You sit still and polite as he navigates the bike through a gap in the gate, the perfect size for a motorcycle to fit. 

He keeps driving in circles, nearly making you dizzy, going up up up the parking garage levels until the ceiling breaks and you catch sight of the night sky again. The stars are more visible this high up, above the buzz of the city, closer to the atmosphere in altitude. 

“Still alive back there?” he calls out as he cuts the engine, coming to a stop in one of the darker corners of the top level. You tell yourself it’s for practicality – if any sort of security happened upon this level, the two of you would remain hidden.

“Mhm,” you hum just loud enough for him to hear you through the helmet, arms aching from how tightly you continue to hold onto him. 

If either of your hands were to slip, you’d graze against his partially exposed torso. Your fingers would make contact with his hips, would trace the expanse of curves and softness, possibly find their way to the trail of sparse hair down the center of his stomach. 

It’s enough to make you fist his shirt into both hands, just to prevent that outcome. 

“You sure?” he twists his body to look at you, and as he does, a hand comes up to rest on one of your arms. 

It’s just a hand, and it’s just an arm. It’s just skin on skin. It’s nothing to call home about; Robin has grabbed your forearm plenty of times out of unbridled excitement, Steve has held onto it to guide you through crowds without losing you countless times, even Nancy has held your arm there before. None of them ever burned you before. 

Maybe it’s not that Eddie’s touch scorns you, it’s not his palm kissed with flames. When his skin closes over yours, it only focuses your fire. That’s why it sears, that’s why it leaves your skin nothing but hot coals. 

You burn for him. 

“I’m positive,” your breath threatens to fog up the glass visor from the inside, “How do I get off this thing?” 

He chuckles, and the hand holding your arm trails down, passing each of your knuckles with the press of a fingertip, drenched in intention. There is no reason for his touch to linger. There is no reason for him to draw roadmaps over your skin – it isn’t his to mark. And yet, the ashen lines appear all the same to you. 

“Just swing off. I’ll stay sitting to balance the bike.” 

You unravel your arms from around him, leaning your chest away from his back and immediately missing the proximity. You miss it as you clutch his shoulders, you miss it as you lift off the bike, you miss it as you stumble ever so slightly with your feet planted on concrete, and his hand shoots out to your hip in an effort to balance you. 

It was an earnest effort, a casual touch, absolutely nothing but innocence in his fingertips as they wrap around your hip for a mere second before retracting. That doesn’t stop it from being gasoline on your fire. 

He stands off of the bike unaware of the effect he’s continuing to have on you, pulling the keys from the ignition and popping the kickstand with such cruel casualty it begins to drive you insane. 

“You need help with the helmet, or is it just part of your look now?” Eddie inquires as he walks around the back of the bike to stand in front of you. 

The fucking smirk and the fucking dimples and the fucking eyes and the fucking-

“I need help,” you deadpan, playing into his game of cat and mouse. You’re willing to see how far you can push this until it breaks, is he? “You put it on me – you take it off.” 

Your mind wanders to his comment, his threat, earlier. How if you didn’t get ready to come here, he’d undress you himself. 

If him taking off this helmet is the closest you will ever get to that, so be it. It’ll give you something to think about tomorrow night in the comfort of your own bed. 

Eddie shrugs happily, taking a step forward and carefully reaching out both hands to either side of the helmet. He’s slow in lifting it off, certainly just being careful and mindful of not hurting you, but it sends you hurtling even further to insanity. Inch by inch, the night’s cool air creeps up over your chin, over your cheeks, over the bridge of your nose. Your eyes flutter shut somewhere in the process.

When the helmet is fully removed, you keep your eyes shut. You wait for the shuffle of Eddie stepping back from you. You anticipate a comment on the state of your hair, your surely disastrous ‘helmet head’. 

Neither comes. Instead, a warm breath hits your now cold cheek. 

Your eyes open to find Eddie standing impossibly close to you. All downcast amber as his eyes trace over your face steadily, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips that remain slightly agape with each puffing breath. You don’t think he’s even recognized the way you had closed your eyes, nor the moment you’d opened them to catch him memorizing you up close. 

“Eddie?” your voice cracks with the questioning, his name heavy on your tongue, “Is… Is everything okay?” 

When his brown eyes meet yours, gilded honey and roasted chestnuts, they make your breath catch. 

He nods with trepidation before breathing out, “Yeah. Everything’s…” 

His words trail off, fading out into the buzz of the night surrounding you. The sounds of a city that never sleeps – distant sirens, a one-off car alarm, the random chirping of a bird, the beeping of a crosswalk signal. They all meld together into white noise, none of the singular components discernible. They’re nothing more than a background to the way Eddie is looking at you. 

He raises a hand suddenly, still leaning in at a creeping pace, and tentatively reaches out to carefully tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. As his fingers curl into the skin behind your ear, lingering for far too long, the heel of his palm brushes your cheek. 

You lean into it. Your face turns ever so slightly, eyes beginning to flutter again, desperately seeking out his touch. Enticing him to break, to cup your face fully, to give you more than you deserve in this moment. 

Because he’s looking at you as if he’s about to kiss you. His eyes are flickering to your lips as you give in to futile want and heedless need, continuing to lean into his feathered touch, and you’re sure he’s about to kiss you. And you’re sure that you’ll let him. 

His chest heaves just as painfully as yours. His pupils widen larger than yours, if possible. You watch an internal war rage behind his eyes, and you’re begging the part of him that wants you, wants this, to come out the victor. You want him to abandon all sensibility as you have. 

Fuck civility. Fuck nuclear explosions. Fuck ocean waves. Fuck forest fires. Fuck friendship. 

You’re past the point of return. All you want from him is his lips on your lips. 

“Baby,” he whispers, a sickly sweet prayer falling from his lips, not a single ounce of malice soaked into the nickname. It’s not sweetheart. It’s not uttered in the same playful cadence as when he said it as he started up the bike. It’s not him teasing you. It’s a plea, a beg – he’s begging something of you that you’re too far gone to recognize. 

But you hum in response, not knowing what he’s asking of you, opening your eyes as wide as you can manage in your moment of weakness, recognizing that his palm now fully cups your cheeks as his fingertips lazily press into your hairline. He’s closer now, leaning over you and covering you in his shadow, multiplying the darkness you reside in. 

His nose bumps against yours. The oxygen you breathe in is replaced by his breath. He’s close, so terribly close, yet still so far. You’re tempted to finish the distance, but you need him to come to you. You need him to want this as much as you do, if not more. 

You need to be the ocean this time. Because if you come to him, you’ll drown. You’ll descend to his darkest depths, and never find yourself above the surface again. Irreparable, collateral damage to yourself. All for wanting a man you’d claimed to hate ten hours prior. 

Eddie’s freehand is grazing your hip, prepared to curl around you with force this time, to pull you into him and kiss you until the two of you are left bloodied and bruised, when your phone rings. 

Both of you jump. In an instant, the closeness is lost – his hand leaves your cheek and hair, your eyes fully open, both of you stand awkwardly and flustered in the light shadows. 

“I-” you don’t know what to say, hands shaking as you reach into your pocket and wretch out your phone. 

JOHNNY BOY. 

Jonathan is calling you, and you don’t know whether you want to commit a federal crime against him or your phone. Or maybe yourself. 

You swear you can taste Eddie despite your lips never touching his. You can still feel the weight of his palm against you. 

He has to take the phone from you, this time only because you’re holding it so tightly, glaring down at it so indignantly, he’s scared you might break it. 

His thumb that once rested against your skin so gently is gliding across the screen, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “Hello?” 

“Hey! Eddie!” Jonathan’s voice happily calls out, and it does nothing to chip away at your fruitless fury. 

He was going to kiss you, and now he can’t even look you in your eyes. 

“Are you both there right now? Or is she asleep?” Jonathan continues over the line. 

You finally break your silence, “I’m here. We’re both here.” 

“Where are you dudes?” A second voice from Jonathan’s side of the call asks, and you recognize that warm tone immediately. Argyle. 

He won’t look at you. His gaze is sturdy on the phone, as if this wasn’t just a regular phone call but a video chat, as if there’s something more interesting being reflected in the screen compared to your currently desperate face. 

You want to scream at him to hang up the phone. You want to beg him to throw the damn device over the wall behind the two of you and let it fall to the street, let it shatter and let the deal be damned just so you can feel his lips on yours and taste the sweetness of his tongue. 

You just want to scream, honestly. Like a child. Stomp your foot, let out a fitful shriek, and pull the boy back into you. 

You don’t. Partially because you’re grown, and partially because he won’t look at you. 

There’s a doubt that creeps up as Eddie says something to the two boys on the line, a shadow of doubt that is darker than the night sky hanging above you two. Maybe Eddie didn’t want this. Maybe he’d just gotten lost in the moment, and now he felt ashamed. 

The scream is left in your lungs, and the blooms on your vines quiver from the insecurity its residency radiates. 

“Alright,” Eddie suddenly chuckles, pulling you back into the conversation, “So, uh, did you guys call for anything else besides playing babysitter?” 

“No, that’s… all,” there’s hesitation in Jonathan’s voice, words unspoken that finally makes Eddie look up to catch your gaze. 

Brown eyes meet yours – you burst into flames like it’s the first time. 

The shadow of doubt eviscerates in the glow of the flames, the glow of your cheeks, as you watch him take you in with careful consideration. There’s no regret in those eyes, only remarkable care. A connection, a string tying you to him, the knots first set in place that night amongst friends. 

He’s looking at you like the Eddie you thought to be dead and gone. 

“You sure about that?” his tone is teasing, but his face is set in stone, eyes never leaving yours, “Sounds like you’ve got more to say, Byers.” 

Argyle is the one who speaks up now, “It’s not that, it’s just… The photo you dudes sent is on your motorcycle. Are you even at your apartment right now?” 

“Oh, absolutely. We actually only went outside to have a photoshoot on old Nightfury here. We’re currently safely tucked into bed, don’t worry, dudes.” 

Eddie’s finally cracking a grin at you, and through it you’re transported to the past. Before you is a man of possibility, someone not yet an enemy. There’s a blank page set out before the two of you, and he’s wielding the pen like a weapon to be seen. 

Nightfury? You mouth at him. 

He blushes in response. 

Oh, you’re definitely bringing that up after this phone call. Fuck talking about the almost kiss. 

“Why do you sound so sarcastic?” Argyle questions, “Are you lying to us?” 

“Argy- Yes, he’s lying. Christ, where is she? Put her on the phone instead,” Jonathan sounds entertainingly frustrated at the moment, and you take a step forward, palm reaching out for your cell. 

Eddie doesn’t hand it over, head tilted at you, his youth breaking through the shadows that sharpen his jaw, “No can do, boss. Already tossed her body into the canals.” 

“You what-” Jonathan’s voice is shrill, and Eddie bites back his laughter as he remembers that Steve is the only one in on that inside joke amongst the three of you. 

“He’s lying,” you finally call out, taking another step closer, “I’m fine. He’s… it’s a joke. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay. But are you guys actually at the apartment, or not?” 

“We’re not,” your honesty has Eddie playfully scowling. 

I hope you kiss me when this is over. I hope you berate me for not playing along, and I hope you press me against the cold concrete behind us, and I hope you kiss me until I can’t breathe. 

The version of yourself from ten hours ago is practically wailing on the floor, kicking and screaming in defeat. You don’t even care. You can admit it – you want Eddie Munson to kiss you. You don’t have to say it out loud, you don’t have to voice that want quite yet. It’s enough for your beating heart to silently admit it and accept the truth. 

“Then where are you two? Jesus Christ.” 

Eddie opens his mouth to answer, but you’re shaking your head with warning, knowing he’ll only lie and make things worse, “Some parking garage. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Some parking gar- are you two fucking stupid? It’s one in the morning, go home,” Jonathan’s using a brotherly voice you’ve only had the pleasure of hearing on rare occasions – usually when you’ve joined him, Steve, and Robin out at the bars, and the latter two have drank well beyond their limits. 

“We know what time it is,” Eddie scoffs. Now that he’s set his stare on you, he’s unrelenting. He keeps you in his line of vision as if you’re a buoy in his ocean, as if he’s capable of getting lost in his own waves. 

Hopefully he is. If you can’t be an ocean to him, you hope he has to suffer in his own depths. 

“We’re being safe,” you assure the two boys over the line. If you took one more step, you would brush up against Eddie. Shoulder to shoulder, cotton sleeve against leather sleeve. You don’t, but the thought still thrills you. 

“Safe?” Jonathan is now scoffing, making Eddie twist his face in annoyance, which makes you want to laugh. He’s getting a taste of his own medicine. “Do you two even know our city’s crime levels? Eddie, I’ve seen you in fights, you cannot-”

“First of all, you’ve seen me in drunken fights,” Eddie snaps in interruption, finally looking down at the phone he holds, “I can throw a fucking punch when I haven’t drank my body weight in whiskey. Second of all, we’re fine. I’m sure if I can’t take whatever big, scary criminal that comes our way, little miss independent here can. She’s scarier than we give her credit for.” 

Silence. You almost don’t notice the way Jonathan and Argyle have gone quiet as you’re still hung up on the nickname of little miss independent. 

Eddie’s the one who steps closer this time. He glances around the empty rooftop of the parking garage, and he takes a microscopic step closer to you. It’s more of a shuffle, really, but it’s enough for your shoulders to finally brush. 

“Shit, man,” Argyle is sighing over the line, as you stare at the ground and Eddie stares at you, “Nance was right.” 

Eddie freezes. There’s a choking sound from the phone, and it sounds an awful lot like Jonathan. 

Nance was… right? 

“What was Nance right about?” you ask, looking up to Eddie quickly. You expect him to be just as confused as you are but he looks petrified.

If all his blood hadn’t drained from his expression, he’d surely be blushing. But he’s stark pale beneath the moonlight, eyes glued to the screen as if Argyle could see his death stare over the line. He looks like a man caught red-handed. You have to look over his palms, the one holding your phone as well as the one quickly being shoved awkwardly into his pocket, just to double check that the skin there isn’t painted maroon. 

“What was Nancy right about?” you repeat yourself, but the question is less directed at the phone now. You don’t care about Argyle or Jonathan’s answer – you care about Eddie’s, “What did she sa-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jonathan interrupts, “We’ve gotta go, but there’s no need for you guys to send a photo this hour. We, uh, we’re the only ones awake probably, so… consider this your official hourly check in. Please, stay safe.” 

“Talk later, my dudes!” Argyle yells in the background. 

The line goes dead. The black screen returns to flash both yours and Eddie’s face in the reflection. One looks overexposed, left out in the light for far too long, and the other looks shadowed, as if having been left behind in the dark. 

You’ve been left in the dark. Whatever just happened between the three boys, you’re clueless to it. 

You have to put your hand out for Eddie to give back the phone, still looking far more nervous than he was before the phone call. All the cocky attitude, all the hints of teasing, all the almost kisses are gone. 

Now’s a perfect opportunity to grill him on what Nancy said. He obviously knows, and if you were smart, you’d dig your heels in and force an explanation from it. You deserve answers; after an exchange of apologies and a quiet acceptance from both of you at giving this a real chance tonight, you deserve to not be left as the odd one out still. 

“Why is your bike named Nightfury?” 

Except it’s not the perfect opportunity. If you ask him now, he’ll deny knowing anything about it. You’ve learned a lot about Eddie in the last ten hours, and the major discovery has been the way in which he uncurls pieces of himself for your eyes only. He is slow and shy in being observed, and he won’t offer honesty when put on the spot like that. 

If you change the topic, if you let it slide, he might tell you on his own time. You’re praying he tells you on his own time. 

He looks taken back by your question, watching as you tuck your phone away into the pocket of his sweats that rest on your hips, “What?”

“You mentioned your bike’s name is Nightfury,” you shrug nonchalantly, “Is it some superhero reference I’m not getting? It’s fitting, but I just… I don’t know. I’m intrigued, I guess.” 

“Superhero reference? Uh, no, not quite,” he scrunches up his face, and you recall the weight of his palm on your cheek. The almost taste of his lips almost on yours, “It’s- Jesus Christ, now I wish it was a superhero reference. The truth is so lame.” 

You break a smile and bump your shoulder against his, trying to shake the racing of your heart, “Can’t be more lame than all your action figures back home.” 

“Didn’t you say they were actually cool?” 

“I actually called them creepy, if I’m recalling correctly.” 

The two of you move as a unit, gliding over to the concrete ledge that over looks the city, simultaneously leaning your full body weight onto your forearms as Eddie digs out a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket’s pocket. 

He catches you eyeballing them, and immediately shakes his head, tapping the top of the carton against the palm of his hand (the same palm that was once cradling your face so gently), “I’m not sharing my cigs. Fuck off.” 

There’s no malice, and that’s probably the only reason that, once he’s pulled his own cigarette out of the pack and discarded it onto the concrete in front of the two of you, you immediately shoot a hand out to take one. You await for him to snap at you, to smack your hand away, to repeat himself. 

He stays silent as you pull one for yourself. Offers his lighter, even, once the end of his glows cherry red. 

You wish he would just lean over and occupy your space again, cup his hand around the end of the cigarette that is dangerously close to your cheek, let the flint fueled flame flicker between you as your gasoline fueled embers sparked to life again. You wish, you wish, and you wish. And he doesn’t. He doesn’t even meet your eyes as you pass the lighter back and inhale the smoke. 

You hold it until his fingertips brush the palm of your hand, before you exhale sharply. 

“It’s from How to Train Your Dragon.” 

You have your cigarette halfway to your mouth, leaving it hovering as you side-eye him, “What?”

“Nightfury. It’s from the movie, How to Train Your Dragon. The, uh, main dragon, Toothless, is a Nightfury.” 

Oh, Jesus Christ. You already wanted to kiss him badly enough, already found your defenses drooping limply when it came to him, and then he had to go and say shit like that. 

“You named your motorcycle,” you start slowly, tilting your head in his direction, “After an animated movie? Cute, although I don’t think scary metalheads like yourself were the intended audience.”

Your words make the corners of his mouth twitch. Smoke curls out from the center of his lips, puckered in consideration as he turns his gaze to the buildings towering around you. “I’m a massive nerd who holds a weekly D&D club and collects mythical creature figurines. I am exactly their intended audience.” 

“You have a D&D club?” 

You’ve learned a lot about Eddie tonight. And yet, every new discovery you uncover continues to surprise you.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he laughs quietly into the night air, “You saw the inside of my apartment, did you really not see the whole Dungeons and Dragons bit coming?” 

You shrug, still watching him watch the city, “I… I don’t know. Contrary to belief, I really don’t know much about you. A shame, really.”

“Are you trying to say you’d like to know more about me, sweetheart?” 

Yes. “God, no. I think I’ve had my fill of Eddie Munson Jeopardy for the night, thank you very much.” 

You want to know the name of his band, you want him to ramble on about the game you know nothing about, you want him to elaborate more on his love for How to Train Your Dragon. You’re brimming with wants, overflowing your cup with curiosity. He shouldn’t intrigue you this way. It’s dangerous – you don’t know where you’ll put all this information when the night ends and you two part ways, both five hundred dollars richer and returning to the hatred that had been established. 

Was it even hatred anymore? Or had it morphed into a softened version of itself, something more akin to indifference? 

“Hey, Eddie,” you watch your cigarette burn away at itself, think of it like your insides as the flecks of ash fly off into the wind of their own accord, “What happens after tonight?” 

You’ve caught him off guard; he’s not expecting the question, and it occurs to you he’s just as unsure as you are. 

He doesn’t know where to go from here either. 

“I dunno,” he murmurs. His arm shifts, and the hand that has his cigarette tucked between the fingers is now resting beside your own, “What do you want to happen after tonight?” 

I want everything to change. I want to laugh with you again. I want to see you when we’re out with our friends and for you to smile instead of scowl. 

You just shrug, and it makes your shoulders brush again, his leather crinkling against the movement, “Nothing has to change. We can… We can pretend it was all a bad dream, if you want. Although I’m definitely referring to your motorcycle as Toothless from now on.” 

“No one will believe you,” he scoffs, ignoring your comment on nothing changing. But the curl of his lips had faded instantaneously, a subtle change that would have been missed if you weren’t watching him so closely. But you were. You noticed. You’d probably never be able to not notice. Even when he returns to scowling, even when he’s returned to the bottom of his ocean and you’re left with legs too weak to continue kicking in an effort to keep you afloat, “But… yeah. Yeah, it can all just be a…. Dream.”

Dream. Not a bad dream, just a dream. 

“It’s weird that we don’t have to take a photo, right?” you’re quick to change the subject, to avoid deep diving into his implications. 

It should give him whiplash, but he seems completely unaffected as he waves a hand around the open air in front of you two, “Not really. But we could still take one, if you want, though. Just for us.” 

Just for us. A stolen moment and a blanket of security that this night existed, that it wasn’t just a shared fever dream and that it was all real. The Eddie you first met still exists six feet under, you two managed civility, and it was real. 

“We could,” you agree, a bit too eager for your liking, “I mean, it’s a pretty view. We shouldn’t waste it.”

He doesn’t comment on the fact that he’s mentioned he comes here often, that this is a space he finds himself running to, just like the bar. He bites his tongue just as he had when you’d stolen a cigarette for yourself. A cigarette now wasted, because you hadn’t taken another drag in far too many minutes.

The hand that rested beside yours so casually inches closer, pinkies beginning to overlap. “Exactly.” 

Your hand shakes the entire time as you reach into your pocket and produce the phone, as you hover the camera to perfectly capture your two hands and the cars that are so small in comparison on the streets below. Overlapping pinkies become hooked, twisted together, and you’re not sure if it was you or Eddie that took that final step. 

You leave the flash off as two cigarettes glow orange like a sunset, like the ending to a beginning you’ve been hurtling towards at full force with Eddie this entire night. 

It’s a nice photo. 

Eddie lowly whistles as he glances over at the screen and the barely blurry photo displayed, “That’s a good one. We’ve gotta put it in the scrapbook, for sure.” 

“The scrapbook?” you giggle, still memorizing every detail of the moment frozen in time, “What are we going to call it? ‘The Night Y/N and Eddie Didn’t Hate Each Other’?” 

“The name can be a work in progress. After all, the night is still young. Maybe murder is still on the table and it can get shown on our Dateline special.” 

You snort, and he grins. Your pinkies are still interlocked. 

“Imagine the name of that episode. Just Keith Morrison narrating our greatest hits,” you muse as the breeze picks up around the two of you. It’s nice, cool and relieving from the flames that have been building and creeping up your wrist. 

Both cigarettes are wasting away now; neither of you are willing to let go of the contact long enough to properly smoke them. 

It’s as if he’s noticing it, too, as he curls his hold even tighter, a subtle squeeze you return without thinking. It’s just a small touch, a miniscule connection between the two of you, but it feels bigger than anything before. It’s larger than the almost kiss, it’s larger than his apology, it’s larger than everything. That’s what it is – it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it’s everything to you. A rebuilding and rekindling of all the paths not taken.

Eddie pulls you from everything suddenly, not by pulling away his pinky, but by putting on his best Keith Morrison impression, “Two enemies, one apartment, an unfortunate series of city canals. Hatred is a fine line to dance, but just how far can one young woman go when a twenty-two year old man takes things too far. Tonight, on Dateline…” 

Your free hand shoves at his shoulders, and his pinky clings stiffly to yours to keep his balance, “Shut up! Why am I the one murdering you? I’m a helpless woman! If anyone’s getting murked, it’s me.” 

“Oh please, sweetheart, that’s exactly why you’d be the one to get away with it! No one suspects the sweet college girl who lives in the dorm down the hall to murder the big, bad wolf,” he cackles, returning to lean into your space tauntingly as he sets the scene, “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t throw my ass into those canals if given the chance.” 

I wouldn’t. “I’m about ten seconds away from it.”

“Yeah?” 

No. “Yeah.” 

“Well, that’s hot.” 

You remember his whimpers from the bathroom suddenly, and bloom into color. Instead of answering his banter, you bite your lip and look harshly down at your conjoined hands. Pinky in pinky, cigarettes dying down together. The burning end has neared where your fingers clench on the filter, and you tell yourself that that’s the source of the heat coursing through your body. It has to be, because it certainly can be the effect of Eddie. Eddie, touching himself. Eddie, moaning. Eddie, definitely not stubbing his toe. 

Flames and oceans, you remind yourself, flames and oceans do not mix. Can not mix. 

“Can I ask you something?” he asks with certainty, the cadence in his voice fading into something of serious discussion. The playfulness is still there, just more subdued, “And can it… not cause some big fight between us this time?” 

Well, that can’t be good. “Go for it.” 

“I told you why I hate you, so… why do you hate me?”

You understand his request immediately; it’s a loaded question, no doubt. 

Why do I hate you? 

For the life of you, you can’t pinpoint an exact moment. And unlike Eddie, you’re willing to tell him the truth, you want to reward him with honesty. The time of avoidant answers has passed for you, and you want to bare your soul to him in a peculiar sense. 

“I- Okay, I don’t know exactly why,” you begin, considering finally disconnecting your pinky from his before deciding against it, “So I’ll talk you through it, but no interruptions, okay?” 

“Okay. I’d pinky swear, but, y’know,” he raises your hands into the air ever-so-slightly, acknowledging the position he’s put you two in for the first time in the entire conversation. 

You both laugh at the sentiment before you continue on. 

“I’d like to preface this with the fact I know you won’t tell me the truth about this, even the others can’t tell me the truth about it, so don’t think of this as me seeking out answers. I’m the one offering an explanation, not you. So…just…” you take a sharp breath in and catch his eyebrows shooting up into his bangs from the corner of your eyes. You can’t look at him head on, a lingering fear of showing this type of vulnerability with him being impossible to shake, “That first night we met. You were nice, right? You were nice, we got along, and then… Then I went to the bathroom. And I came back, and suddenly, you… you weren’t nice. You weren’t quite mean, not yet, but you certainly weren’t acting the same anymore. And I don’t know why you changed, I don’t care,” An absolute lie. You cared. You cared so assiduously, far more than you should, to know why, “But after that, you were just… cold, I guess? And it all built up. I thought it was a game at first, I gave up trying to be friends and decided whatever was happening between us might be normal. You’d give short answers, so I gave short answers. You’d insult me or make fun of me, so I’d insult you or make fun of you. It was just a game. Until you got mean.” 

A siren flashes by on the street below, and you can’t even make out the sound of his breathing. Now feels like a good time to pull away your pinky, to take a final drag of your cigarette, to leave behind his burning touch. The moment you try, he completely traps your finger between his pinky and ring finger. 

He’s not letting you go without a fight. 

You’re tired of fighting him. 

“I actually think it took me a while to really hate you back, y’know? I think I was still holding onto this... this childish hope that you didn’t mean to be cruel. Or that you were just jealous of me intruding on your friend group – you told me yourself that you guys go all the way back to high school. I was this invader, and I excused your cruelty for a really long time because of it, because I told myself I understood. But then… six months ago, I stopped understanding. I had to admit defeat and hate you because you didn’t give me much of a choice.” 

“Steve’s party.” 

He says it so quietly, you almost miss it. He sounds remorseful, he sounds sad, he sounds regretful, he sounds mournful. 

“Steve’s party,” you confirm just as quietly. Your pinky is slack against his as his grip finally loosens, “That night, everything you said… It finally felt personal. From the minute I got there, you were just… awful. You knew exactly where to hit me when I was down. And it took me shattering Steve’s poor glass to realize you really do hate me. You hate me, so I hate you.” 

It’s out there, the truth – your only reason for hating Eddie Munson was because he hated you. It was based on a worthless principle. Born out of necessity, you had forced yourself to hate the man who currently has your pinky wrapped around his, who had pledged his protection over you with the same mouth that had claimed he’d never miss you if you evaporated from his life. 

The hate would always be there. It wouldn’t wash away with his waves, and it wouldn’t turn to ash from your flames. You couldn’t get your hopes up that one night could fix it all. 

“I was a dick that night. I know I’ve already said sorry but… I’m sorry,” he finds his reply in the darkness, in a hushed tone. Quiet and ridden with shame. 

His pinky falls even more slack with yours as if he’s silently offering to let you go, as if the memory of what he’d done is enough to remind him you aren’t his to keep. But you’ve already given up the fight – your pinky stays with his. 

“You were a dick,” you agree, “But I know you’re sorry now, it’s just a matter of… accepting it. Letting it go. I’ve not exactly been innocent in this. Remember Chrissy Cunningham?” 

He laughs dryly, clearly recalling the blonde you’d caught him out on a date with.

“Jesus, fuck. Yeah, I remember Chris. I never did get a second date.” 

“Because of me,” you try to tease, doing as he would and leaning your bicep into his. 

He nods, “Because of you.” 

You’d been extra spiteful that night. It was before Steve’s party, even. The moment you’d seen them in that booth, Chrissy giggling far too much at each of what had to have been Eddie’s terrible jokes, watching her perfectly manicured hand settle on his shoulder, you had been out for blood.

You’d approached them, and made Chrissy believe Eddie was already your husband. You’d even switched one of the rings on your right hand to your left ring finger. An entire debacle had been made in that diner, and Eddie looked ready to murder you when Chrissy had left and murmured something about ‘calling him later’ as you continued to credit him for being an absolute cheater. 

She never did call. You must have really sold the entire lie with your crocodile tears. 

“I was a bitch that night,” you supply as you let your cigarette finally drop from between your fingers, hitting the concrete as it begins to sizzle out, “So… I’m sorry. And we’re even.” 

Eddie steals his cigarette into his other hand and takes a final drag before he properly puts it out, “Looking back now, it’s kind of fucking funny. Seriously. Did you know I knew her in high school?”

You don’t expect his lighthearted response, but you take it in full stride with a squeeze from your pinky, “What?”

“Yup. She never gave me the time of day back then. And after our date, I found out she’d been already trying to get back with her on-again, off-again boyfriend from back then,” he shrugs, turning to glance at you, “Guess I wasn’t the cheater.” 

“Jesus, I’m sorr-”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize for her. Apologize for the fact you never even signed a prenup with me, or invited me to our wedding, wife.”

That makes you break. You both laugh so hard you have no choice but to relinquish your hold on each other, bringing your hands up to laugh freely into your palms. 

“I am so sorry, my dear husband,” you taunt, “Maybe I’ll remember to invite you to the renewal of our vows in five years time.”

“Five years?” he crinkles his nose, shaking his head harshly, nearly tearing his curls from his makeshift bun, “Fuck that. I never even got to say my vows the first time. You owe me a wedding, princess.” 

“You never bought me a ring.”

“You never bought me a ring.” 

“My bad,” you barely squeak out before you succumb to even more laughter. Eddie’s dimples shine as he joins you, looking to the ground as his shoulders shake. 

He sighs deeply once the two of you compose yourselves, turning and leaning his back onto the ledge, staring out at the empty parking lot, “Where should we have our honeymoon? I’m thinking the diner would consider hosting us, even after your fiasco.” 

“The diner?” you feign offense and mimic his position, “Fuck that,” you parrot his words right back, “You’re taking me to Paris, pretty boy.” 

It’s a deliberate choice; the nickname doesn’t slip carelessly this time. It’s said with a conviction that makes Eddie blush, that makes him look at you with dark eyes. 

“Pretty boy and sweetheart,” he mumbles, gaze flickering down your face, “We make quite the odd married couple. I don’t know how they’d feel about us in Europe.” 

“They’d certainly stop and stare at first glance,” you play along, still giggling quietly, “But I think then they’d see just how in love we obviously are and just….” you pause and let your eyes flutter shut for dramatic effect, not catching sight of the way he suddenly melts for you, “Swoon.” 

You don’t see it, but he’s looking at you like he’s about to kiss you again. 

“Here,” he suddenly says, fiddling with his fingers when you snap your eyes back open, “Allow me, Edward Munson, to vow myself to you…. Uh….” he pauses as he realizes he doesn’t know your full name, and so you jokingly lean in and whisper it to him as if you aren’t the only two up here. He repeats it back as if he’d always known it, and you’re both back to giggling, “In sickness or in health. In hatred or in murder. In…. bets and from this day forward.” 

He’s holding one of his rings, one decorated with a chunky skull, and motions for your hand. You offer it and allow him to slide the ring on with as much ease as he had slid the helmet onto you. 

It fits a bit big, but you both look down at it as if it’s the world’s greatest gift. 

“Wow,” you breathe out, your hand still cupped by his, “It’s certainly no diamond.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Allow me to just go to the twenty-four hour diamond shop and get something more to your taste, my beloved,” he goads, finally dropping your hand. 

The metal is warm on the inner ring from his skin, searing into you just as his touch does. 

“You sure know how to commit to a bit, Munson,” you murmur beneath your breath, lifting your hand to inspect the ring more closely. You’ve never paid much mind to his rings before, only ever knowing that they were there and they were a staple to his look. 

“That I do, wife,” he grins widely, boyish in his suddenly shy stance, “You’re already wearing my sweats and my shirt, why not add the ring? Complete the look?” 

“Complete the look,” you repeat and shake your head, shrugging, “Okay, fine. But just for tonight.”

Just for tonight, because after tonight, nothing changes. Your heart pangs at the thought but you don’t let your smile or joking demeanor fade with him. 

“Of course, of course,” he waves the hand that is now one ring lighter, “Just for tonight. Come morning light, everything goes back to normal. No one has to know you spent the night married to me, sweetheart.” 

“I mean, I’ve already moved in for the night,” you remark, looking up into his eyes, “We have moved quite quickly, haven’t we?” 

“We have. All that’s left is consummating the marriage, or whatever,” he shimmies a shoulder into you, turning to face the motorcycle, “Speaking of home, we should get going before any scary criminals show up and you have to beat them up for me.” 

Your cheeks are burning red, your hand is carrying his ring and flames, “Oh, I’m sorry. We are so not brushing right past the fact you know the word consummate.” 

It’s easy. Being with him is easy, on fire or not. It is easier to enjoy him and joke with him, fall into civility with him, than to force yourself to hate him. You don’t care if tonight changes nothing for him; it changes everything for you. 

“I’m brighter than I look, doll.” 

It is easy to burn for him. For tonight, and for the rest of your life, quite possibly. 

He picks the helmet up off of the seat and holds it out for you as you follow him,  immediately making you grumble in protest as you take it without a fight. 

You decide to take one last chance before the helmet separates the two of you again. One last way to tell him you don’t hate him, you don’t know if you ever hated him, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever hate him. 

“You know, I think we skipped a step,” you flip the helmet, not meeting his eyes this time, mustering all your bravery, “Usually, you have to kiss your bride, then consummate the marriage.” 

Quiet. He’s too quiet.

You’ve stunned him into silence, and you take it as a sign that you’ve gone too far. You’ve brought the almost kiss back up in the most indirect of ways, and you regret it immediately. 

“I’m sorry,” you immediately try to rectify, “I- that was dumb. Bad joke. I… I’ll leave the bits to you.” 

You don’t give him a chance to reply as you shove on the helmet, much less gracefully than he had put it on you, and wait for him to get on the bike.

No words are exchanged. You can’t see if he’s blushing through the tint of the visor. You convince yourself that he’s only tense as you climb onto the bike behind him because he’s uncomfortable now, because you’ve breached a limit you’d never even noticed.

Of course he wasn’t going to kiss you. Of course you shouldn’t have mentioned it, let alone joked about it. You’re an idiot. Even in civility, you’re an idiot. 

 He drives even faster to the apartment this time, which is dangerous considering you don’t grip him nearly as tightly. 

A game of fate you should have realized is dangerous to play. It is dangerous to burn for him, because he does not burn for you. This fire is one-sided and self-destructive, and although it is easy, you should have known better. The hating him is safer than the wanting him. The fury is safer than the yearning. The glasses shattered were safer than the moments shattered. 

You arrive back at the apartment. He parks the bike. You return the helmet to him. 

You walk up the stairs ahead of him. You don’t speak to him. You twist the ring he gave you. 

You keep your head down at the door. He rustles with his keys.

The burning is too easy. You should have known better.

But then, he says your name, keys still hanging from the lock of the door to apartment 2C. 

You look up at him, and wonder if he sees your embers, clear as day. You wonder if he’s about to tell you to collect your things and inform the others that the bet is off, that the two of you will scrounge together the money you owe them and forget the night ever happened. 

“Tonight changes nothing, right?” he questions once he has your full attention. You can only nod, ignoring the sharp pain of reality, “Nothing that happens tonight has to matter, right?”

You swallow hard. “Right.” 

He’s the one nodding now, seemingly lost in thought.

This is it. This is the part it all ends. 

“Great,” he finally concedes, voice raspy. You’re about to parrot back the sentiment when his hands are suddenly back in your hair, and his breath is back against your cheek, "Then fuck it."

This time, almosts don’t cut it. He kisses you, and he tastes like salt water as he meets your ash.

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[pedgito]

just saw an asks where you are talking about mean eddie mocking you and it did something to me lmao. could you elaborate on that with a little blurb. maybe ur riding eddie and it just feels so good that your legs give up on u and he is being mean and sarcastic about it till he takes the lead

author’s note: i couldn’t remember what i said about that so just enjoy really playful/mean eddie, this would’ve been longer but i’ve been struggling a bit lately, still i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni) mean!eddie & mean!reader (but it’s all playful, slight dom!eddie (if you squint), protected sex, multiple orgasms, aftercare, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 1.8k

Eddie was an antagonizer in its purest form, never malicious but always with an endgame in mind. It would start as subtle teasing, off-handed comments that would have you retorting back in such a manner that Eddie couldn’t help but smile, knowing he’d get you back for it later.

He’d crowd behind you at your locker, hand clasped over yours where it’s gripping the metal and whisper against your ear, “Keep wearing stuff like that and I’m not gonna be able to handle myself.”

You could wear anything and Eddie would have the same response, but that was beside the point. His free hand slips into the open hole of your ripped jeans against your upper thigh and squeezes, forcing a surprised laugh out of you, muffling it with your hand as you ducked your head into your locker, elbowing him gently with your other arm.

It was an everyday occurrence now and you’ve learned the only way to shut him up is to react, even if you’d regret it later.

“What? So you can fuck me in the bathroom again?” You tease lightly, “A whole three minutes? I know you can do better.”

Eddie shrugs, “Can you blame me?”

His attraction toward you was never-ending and intense, something you’ve never experienced before him. Eddie was the kind of suffocating love you always wanted, soaking up every moment of it.

“Part of me thinks you like the idea of getting caught,” You smirk half heartedly, “kinda fucked up if you ask me.”

“You’re one to talk.” Eddie replies, ignoring your obvious jab.

You laugh softly, leaning forward until your lips are barely touching, eyes glaring into Eddie’s, “Is that what you want?”

Eddie makes a small noise of confusion, still playing into your act.

“You wanna fuck me, right here?” Eddie wouldn’t dare, he’s not that asinine, but he enjoys the back and forth, the deep fire in your eyes as you speak to him. Your hand tugs at the hem of his shirt, hand resting just above the belt of his jeans, twisting the shirt in your hands slightly before pulling him toward you abruptly, pressing a bruising kiss against his lips.

“Too bad,” You answer for him, “I need to focus on this English test,” Eddie scoffs, rolling his eyes—you were perfectly fine, up to aces with all of your work and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you wouldn’t pass, “and Principal Higgins is watching us—so you should probably get to class.”

Eddie chances a glance to his left, realizing just how right you were. He looks back quickly, familiar smirk on your face as you pull away, reaching behind you to close your locker.

“Stay out of trouble?” You ask, tone soft and warm toward him.

“No promises,” He replies wearily, scratching at the side of his jaw, mindful of the eyes still watching you both, “everyone’s out to get me, remember?”

“You’ll stay out of trouble,” You assure him again, eyeing him briefly, eyes dragging from head to toe, “right?”

And he can see it in the look you give him, the salacious grin on your face. There would be consequences—or metaphorical consequences, not that he didn’t have a way to counter them, but he nods.

“Mhmm,” He agrees, nodding slightly. “Promise.”

But, promises didn’t always hold up and we’re bound to break at some point.

And it’s no surprise when you find Eddie in after school detention with an even more shameful look on his face than earlier in the day, dragging his feet up to you in a leisurely manner as he wraps his arms over your shoulder, slung around you loosely.

“You never listen to me,” You complain with amusement, letting him press a light kiss into your hair, the smirk evident in his face even if you couldn’t see him. “Do you?”

Eddie thinks for a moment, briefly, “No.”

So, by later that night, it’s almost a constant back and forth, neither of you daring to break until Eddie gets his hands around your thighs, pulling you tight against him, burying himself even deeper.

“What was that?” He asks, a patronizing lilt in his voice, breath coming out in pants. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I can’t—“ You breath out, shoving his hands away weakly, “no more, Eddie, please.”

He’d already managed to make you come twice, quickly working his way into a third, his hips moving gingerly as he listened to you, though he was obviously enjoying your torture, his eyes lighting up at the feeling of your muscles twitching involuntarily under his touch, too weak to even raise yourself up onto your knees.

“Fuck—you really got a fuckin’ mouth on you when you like to think you’re in charge,” Eddie laughs slightly, “baby, that’s never the case.”

And even if that was true, you don’t really mind.

“Eddie,” You plead, hands shoved against his chest in an effort to push away slightly, “come on.”

“Do you really wanna stop?” Eddie teases, fingers slipping into the dip where your hips meet your pelvis and rocking your hips slowly, eyebrows knitting together in pleasure as your mouth drops open, a broken gasp leaving your lips.

Your eyes are barely open, riddled with exhaustion and hanging on by a thread.

“Didn’t think so.” He comments off handedly, “Look at me.”

You shake your head petulantly, lids falling shut as you breathe deeply, savoring the deep penetrating feeling of Eddie inside of you, hitting the spot that made your entire body ache, skin feeling white hot.

Eddie slaps your thigh lightly, a gentle warning.

“Hey,” Eddie chides, “you can handle it, right?”

It’s the same tone you used on him early, only countered toward you. He knew exactly how to get under your skin.

“Shut up.” You pout, blunt nails digging into his chest.

Eddie grunts softly, tutting his tongue against his teeth.

“S’not as sweet when you’re on the receiving end, is it?”

Eddie drives his point even further with a sharp thrust of his hips, hands squeezing impossibly tight against your skin.

Your mouth falls open further, which Eddie mimics in a way that drives you mad, face contorting into a mix of frustration and yearning, begging him to give it up—whatever act he was playing or devious plan he had in the back of his mind.

But, Eddie was stubborn.

“I know you wanna say it,” Eddie tells you, “Say it—say my name, sweetheart.”

You sigh heavily, head tipping back, “Fuck—Eddie,” Eddie makes a quiet noise of approval, “Eddie—“

“See how perfect you sound when all you can think about is me,” Eddie seethes, grunting as the rate of thrusts grew faster, forcing you to fall forward, hands digging into the soft fabric of the pillow, “so drunk on my dick you can’t think of anything else.”

“I’ve got plenty of thoughts in my head.” You retort.

Eddie huffs a laugh, daring you to challenge him.

His hands grip your own, clasped between his warm palms, his hips suddenly unmoving.

“Do it yourself then,” He instructs, “yeah?”

But, your body was entirely too weak, hips aching from the stretch and muscles screaming protest—you just wanted to rest, have Eddie wrap his body around you and lull you to sleep, but instead you were here, reaping the consequences of getting under Eddie’s skin all day.

Your movements are slow, without any real rhythm, just a desperate grind of your hips, seeking the friction.

And it’s frustrating, face again furrowing in annoyance as you rocked your hips jerkily, eventually giving up, slight frown on your face.

“Say you’re sorry,” Eddie says, “for teasing me, making fun of me—“

“God, you’re unbelievable—“

Eddie makes a pointed face, eyebrow quirking in amusement.

The smug bastard. He didn’t care for an apology, he just wanted the satisfaction of seeing your crumble under his will.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” You say in exasperation, “but Eddie, I can’t—I really can’t take anymore—“

Eddie nods, pulling you down toward his chest and flipping you in one slow, fluid motion, bodies never disconnecting.

“That’s all I needed to hear,” He smiles, leaning down to capture your lips in a deep, hurried kiss, hips moving quickly against you, his fingers finding your clit almost instantly and it’s all too overwhelming, body pliant to his touch but aching for release, “you still with me?”

You nod slightly, forcing your head deeper against the pillow, eyes shut in exhaustion as Eddie pressed himself against you, mouthing at random parts of your skin, delicate touches to remind you he was still there, his hand still an igniting pressure against your cunt, fingers working quickly over your swollen clit.

“Hey, eyes,” He nudges softly, squeezing at your thigh, “look at me, babe.”

You peek at him slightly, laughing at his righteous grin.

“Just one more,” He promises, his early words seeping back into your thoughts, “that’s it.”

And when it hits you, you don’t even have the energy to make a sound, mouth falling open as you grip at Eddie’s shoulder, bound to leave bruises from the tightness of it. He makes sure to carry you through until it’s all over, snapping his hips a few more times until it’s over for himself, having held out for longer than he’s used to—it’s guttural, the groan that escapes him, hands fisting in to the pillow beside your head to avoid squeezing you too hard.

“So, about those three minutes—“ You start lightly, attempting to wean Eddie back into consciousness.

“Had to prove a point,” Eddie explains through staggered huffs, “how’d I do?”

“Do I really need to answer that?” You ask profoundly, hair matted to your face from the sweat, chests touching with every breath you took.

“Just checking,” He chuckles, pressing a messy, closed mouth kiss over the tip of your nose, “gotta piss me off more often, sweetheart—this is pretty fun.”

“Fuck you.” You reply playfully, kicking him off weakly until he’s falling to his back on the mattress, “I can’t even feel my legs.”

Eddie disposes of the condom discreetly while you slowly slip your underwear back on, crawling back up the bed lazilyy until he’s flat on his stomach, hands reaching for the tender flesh of your thigh.

“Let me take care of you then,” Eddie smiles slightly, those his words are laced with dangerous undertone—it’s all teasing, but it earns a familiar look of warning his way, “I meant like, a massage or something. You know, not everything I say is dirty minded—“

You offer a pointed glance his way, seeing right through his bullshit.

“Okay, most of it is—but come on, let me.”

You sigh quietly, nodding in response.

His touches are just as gentle, if not more.

It’s a reminder of how well Eddie balanced all of it, the hard intensity of his exterior alongside the delicate personality woven on the inside—it’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced before, but it was everything you needed.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[mcdynamite]

If you asked most people who know Eddie Munson, they’d tell you that he's a loud, theatrical man. They might tell you that he's always bouncing around, full of chaotic energy and wild ideas, eager to share what's on his mind with anyone who will listen.

And for the most part, they would be right.

But Steve Harrington knows that there's more to it than that.

Steve knows that Eddie is loud, most of the time, except for when he feels most comfortable.

It's a realization that comes to Steve slowly in the weeks following their final battle against Vecna and the Upside Down, during the time they spend sharing a hospital room while they recover from their bat bites.

Steve is there to witness Eddie's cacophonous reunion with the kids - rife with hollering and boisterous laughter and some very stern (if relieved) scolding from Erica Sinclair. But he's also there to see the way Eddie motions Dustin over once everyone settles down and begins to trickle out of the room. Steve watches as Eddie pulls Dustin into his arms and mutters something Steve can't hear into the kid's ear - something that makes Dustin smile with teary eyes.

It's the first time Steve has seen such a soft display of emotion from Eddie Munson, and he finds it strangely fascinating.

Then, it's the same with Wayne a few days later, when he's finally allowed to visit Eddie in the hospital. Steve expects something a bit dramatic from Hawkins' most notorious Dungeon Master, to be honest, but it's not dramatic at all. The reunion between the Munson men is soft and subdued, nothing but quiet sentiments Steve can't quite make out. Eddie is still as full of energy as ever, but with Wayne around, he loses that frantic edge. And so Steve eventually realizes...

The more comfortable Eddie is, the less jagged his edges get. Loud, raucous laughter becomes soft chuckles. Booming declarations give way to quiet promises. Eddie Munson is softer when he feels safest, and Steve quickly decides that while he likes any and all versions of Eddie, he's particularly fond of this one - the one who's shed his emotional armor in favor of comfort, and perhaps a little vulnerability.

He wants to see more of this Eddie - the one who seems closest to Eddie's truest self.

And overtime, Steve gets his wish.

It starts with quiet, late-night conversations filling the space between their beds in the hospital, when they finally begin to dismantle every misguided preconceived notion they've ever had about each other in order to forge a friendship from the ground up.

Once they're released back into the real world, it continues. There are soft, amused comments murmured into Steve's ear during movie nights, and cheeky observations about the kids they practically share custody of on days at the arcade. There are relaxed conversations over a joint passed back and forth on nights when neither of them can sleep at three in the morning.

The closer they get, the softer Eddie becomes, and it only becomes more obvious when they finally stop dancing around each other and start dating.

Eddie's voice is careful and kind when he asks, "Can I kiss you?" for the first time.

He's practically whispering a week later when they both admit to wanting more than just a casual fling with each other.

When Steve makes him come for the first time, Eddie is all soft gasps and quiet whimpers... breathlessly chanting Steve's name like a prayer. And when Eddie returns the favor later that night, it's with the sweetest, filthiest things whispered into Steve's ear, working him into a frenzy until it takes him over the edge.

And four months into their relationship, one of their most important milestones is said so quietly, Steve almost misses it entirely.

They're laying in bed together, chatting away just like they do almost every night. Steve is basking in the feeling of Eddie's arms around him...of Eddie's bare chest against his back as they trade warmth back and forth. He always loves cuddling with Eddie, but he thinks these nights are his favorites. The ones when he gets to be the little spoon, tucked safely into the arms of the boy he thinks of first every morning and last every night.

Eddie tells him about the way Mike wouldn't stop bitching about his sunburn during the D&D campaign Eddie ran with the boys earlier today, and Steve can't help but roll his eyes.

"God, I told him to use sunscreen yesterday!" Steve insists. Behind him, Eddie snorts. "I did! I told all of them to use it, and most of them listened to me, but did Michael Wheeler? Of course not, because that little shit is hellbent on giving me grays before I turn thirty!"

There's another snort from Eddie - this one louder than the first - and Steve playfully smacks his arm where it's wrapped around Steve's abdomen. Eddie just catches his hand and traces circles across the back of it with his thumb.

"This isn't some laughing matter, Munson!" Steve hisses. "We're talking about my hair, here!"

"Oh, woe be upon he who dares threaten the integrity of your glorious mane, my liege," Eddie drawls dramatically. He nuzzles into the aforementioned mane and presses a soft kiss to the spot just behind Steve's ear.

"Exactly, see? You get it," Steve scoffs, choosing to ignore the sarcasm in his boyfriend's voice.

Eddie buries his face in the crook of Steve's neck and makes a vague humming sound.

"Seriously, though, next time, I'm putting sunscreen in a spray bottle and ambushing him with it, or some shit. I’ll be damned if he survived the apocalypse just so his pasty ass could be taken out by the sun," Steve continues to vent.

Eddie just laughs softly. "You're ridiculous, sweetheart," he murmurs. Steve feels him brush his lips against Steve's pulse point and has to suppress a shiver.

"Yes, and?" Steve huffs, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

"You're ridiculous," Eddie repeats. Then, his voice goes impossibly soft - barely a whisper, and a bit hesitant - but Steve feels the words ghost over the shell of his ear. "And I love you."

Steve's breath hitches just as Eddie seems to realize the gravity of what he's let slip. Eddie's thumb, which has been rubbing gentle circles into the back of Steve's hand ever since he grabbed it a minute, suddenly pauses. For a moment, neither of them move.

It's Steve who unfreezes first, slowly rolling over until he's facing Eddie, still wrapped in his boyfriend's arms. He takes in Eddie's wide eyes and vaguely anxious expression before reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of Eddie's face.

Steve's voice is raspy when he finally manages to speak.

"You love me?" he asks hesitantly, hating the half of himself that's waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe he misheard. Maybe Eddie said something else. Or worse, maybe Eddie changed his mind immediately after saying it and is now regretting saying it in the first place. It wouldn't be the first time someone changed their mind about loving Steve, after all.

Eddie doesn't correct him, though, or take it back. Instead, he nods hesitantly, as though he's afraid Steve will hate him for it, and bites his lip.

"I- yeah," he says, still whispering. He looks terrified, and it makes Steve's heart ache. "Is that...okay?"

Steve wants to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. Mostly, he wants to tell Eddie that it's more than okay - that he loves him, too, and has for a while now.

"Say it again," Steve begs, instead.

Eddie blinks, his gaze transforming into something so devastatingly tender that Steve doubts he'll ever recover.

"Stevie..." Eddie murmurs, bringing their foreheads to rest against each other. His lips curl into a smile. Steve smiles back. "I love you."

Steve is only slightly embarrassed by the way his heart is rabbiting against his ribs, surely loud enough for his boyfriend to hear.. "Really?"

Eddie smiles and lets their noses brush. "Yeah, baby. I really do."

"Oh," Steve breathes. His disbelief finally gives way to wonder as he allows his hand to move on its own accord - fingertips brushing against the soft skin of Eddie's cheek. Reverently, he traces the shape of Eddie's nose, of his eyebrows, of the little scar on Eddie's temple that's only just begun to fade.

Eddie presses a barely-there kiss to the pads of Steve's fingers when they finally drag across his lips. The action leaves Steve feeling so fond it aches.

"I love you, too," Steve whispers, because it's the truth. He's not sure exactly when he started to fall in love with Eddie Munson, but he does know that he's never stopped. He thinks he'll probably keep falling in love with Eddie until the day he dies.

It's a disgustingly sweet sentiment, and Steve can't bring himself to care.

"Fuck, Eddie," he laughs, breathless. Eddie's eyes are shining with joy. With love. Steve moves closer, until their lips brush against each other when he murmurs, "Love you so much."

Steve's heart has never felt as full as it does right now - as it continues to feel when they collide in a flurry of heated skin, soft lips, and quiet words of adoration. It's not the first time they've had sex, but it's the first time it's felt like this - like being wholly and completely cared for, for the first time in his life. Steve has tears in his eyes by the time they collapse against each other, sated and utterly in love, and Eddie devotedly kisses the tears away when they begin to fall.

In the aftermath, once they've both been cleaned up and caught their breath, Eddie pulls Steve into his arms so Steve's head can rest on his scarred chest. The soft thump of Eddie's heartbeat beneath his ear - proof that they survived everything they've been through, and that their reward is this beautiful, brilliant love - brings a smile to Steve's face.

He turns his head and presses his lips to Eddie's chest, just above Eddie's heart. Eddie's arms tighten around him.

"Love you, Eds," Steve murmurs, settling in and closing his eyes as sleep begins to beckon.

Eddie just holds him and runs nimble fingers through Steve's hair, bending to press a kiss to Steve's temple.

"Love you too, Stevie," Eddie whispers in his ear, voice perfectly, beautifully soft.

Written for the prompt "things you whispered in my ear" from this prompt request list I posted a couple of months ago! If you want to request another one of the prompts on the list, drop me an ask and I'll write it as soon as I can!

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 4

Hi! Back with this lovely story! I am loving the fun everyone is having with this story.

Remember how I said Eddie gets worse? Welcome to step two of three of being a shithead.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

****

Steve was playing a bit of pool to burn off steam when trouble walked through the doors. He knew it was the only place for young adults to go to when they wanted a little fun but didn’t want to drive to Indy or Bloomington to get it.

He knew that all right. It still hurt to watch Nancy Wheeler to walk in and with Jonathan Byers on her arm.

She spotted him and waved.

Steve, the ever loving idiot he was, waved back.

Nancy gave him a hug and Jonathan did too. Steve forced himself not to react. Things were water under the bridge with these two. He knew that. But in her eyes, Steve still saw the potential of the life he could have had.

Not that Steve wanted the six kids in an RV like he had when he was in high school. Growing up changed that. Eddie changed that.

Which is when Eddie decided to walk through the doors of The Hideout.

Yep, Steve was in hell. He had been trying to avoid this. He had been wanting to unwind.

In short, he was going to kill Robin for suggesting they come out tonight. Because really? Where else in this god forsaken town were his exes going to go than here?

He made eye connect with Robin who was at the bar watching him play. She looked at the door and set her bottle of beer down. She wove through the crowd to cut Eddie off at the pass.

Eddie’s eyes lit up. “Robin!” he greeted warmly.

“Hey, Ed,” she said, soft but firm.

He looked behind her and then back at her. “Still Steve’s guard dog?”

“Yep!” Robin said showing all of her teeth. “You going to be good tonight?”

Eddie held up his hands. “I’m not here to start trouble. I just want to play some pool and have a beer or two.”

She raised an eyebrow, but let him pass.

Eddie spotted Jonathan and Nancy before he got to the pool tables and changed direction.

He kissed Nancy’s cheek and hugged Jonathan. “Hey, man! What are you up to these days?”

While they caught up, he felt the weight of Steve’s stare boring into the back of his head.

He didn’t want to look over there because he knew what he’d see. Steve Harrington, once the love of his life, bent over a pool table, cue in hand looking better than a man should at their age should look.

Eddie wished he could say that he fought valiantly before he gave in, but that would have made him a damn liar and he would rather not add to his sins being here.

What he saw made him see red. There was a guy standing close to Steve, too close in Eddie’s opinion. He was taller than him, broad shouldered and all smiles. He had one hand on the edge of the pool table with a beer bottle in his other hand. He said something and Steve did his little goofy snort. Wrinkling his nose, big smile, eyes half closed in laughter.

Maybe it was the fact that he was on his third beer and not enough food in system. Maybe it was it was move that Eddie had used on Steve a hundred times before. Maybe it was cause he was plain jealous of anyone who could make Steve laugh like that. He did the one thing he promised Robin he wouldn’t do.

Cause trouble.

He picked up a cue and dusted the end with chalk. The Hideout was known for their unusual black chalk. He blew on the end of his cue and smiled at Steve.

Steve immediately straightened up and away from the guy standing next to him, sensing Eddie’s mood. He gave him a warning glance, but knew it would be futile. Whatever Eddie had planned, he wasn’t about to be deterred.

“You up for a real game of pool, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, all ease and smiles. “Or does your talents still run toward the swimming kind?”

Steve looked over at his companion, who smiled reassuringly at him. He sighed and chalked up his cue.

“Rack ‘em up, Munson,” he growled. “I’ll show you just what you’ve been missing.”

Eddie’s answering grin was feral. He racked up the balls in the triangle and gave them a good shake.

“You’re up,” he said with a wink.

Steve closed his eyes and then lined up his shot. He bent over the table and he pulled back, Eddie let out a low whistle.

Steve jerked on the cue, it manage to break the balls, but none of them fell into a pocket.

“Sorry, babe,” Eddie said, clearly not repentant at all. “That ass has always been a weakness of mine.”

“Interference!” Robin booed, but Steve shook his head.

He knew what Eddie’s game was now, and he wouldn’t be surprised the next time it happened.

“You can look, but you can’t touch,” he said with a smirk. “Go ahead, try to do something with the mess you caused.”

Eddie flinched at the double entendre at that last statement. Steve was good at those, he just missed the days when the other meaning was sexual and not about the mess of their relationship.

Eddie kept drinking, like a man dying of thirst. If only the beer could quench it. The only thing that could sate his thirst was the man he was playing against.

The game was a dead heat throughout, both men in top form. Then it was a race for the eight ball, with Eddie winning, but barely.

“Not bad, Stevie,” Eddie said with a grin. “Maybe you should have let me give you some pointers to start with.”

“If you wanted to get off so badly,” Steve sneered, “maybe you should have stayed in Seattle with your fiancee, Eds.”

The guy that had been standing too close to Steve got between them. “You come in here and flirt with Steve and you have a fiancee? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Steve turned to the guy, away from Eddie. “Hey, Kevin, it’s okay.”

“Like Stevie here isn’t cheating too,” Eddie huffed, angry that Steve had chosen this guy over him. “Your date here is still married.”

Robin was at Steve’s side in a heartbeat, Nancy and Jonathan rushing between Steve and Eddie.

Kevin laughed. “So you’re the ex. Steve told me all about you. How you never picked him ever and you’re back in town trying to fuck up his life all over again.”

Eddie had far passed drunk and into three sheets to the wind category. And he was never kind when he was that drunk.

“Then tell this jackass to give a divorce and I’ll fucking blow this hell hole,” he spat.

The bar went silent. Everyone turned to look at Steve who had gone completely still. His hands were clenched into fists, his jaw set into stone, his eyes hard.

“You know what, asshole,” Steve said coldly, “I was going to sign once I got word back from my lawyer. But then you came into my shop, into my town, and throw your weight around like some hot shot from the big city and the answer is no. No, I won’t sign those god damn papers, because at least I tell people about you. Did your fiancee even know I existed before you asked her to marry you?”

Nancy looked between Steve and Eddie in shock. “Her?”

“Yes, of course I told Chrissy about you,” Eddie sneered crossing his arms and glowering. “You’re getting off the track, darlin’. This isn’t about her. This is about you being an ass and not divorcing me because you’re a bitter old shrew who never went anywhere. Just stuck in the same god damn town, not even living.”

He threw his arms in the air and screamed, “Fuck it!” And stormed out of the bar.

****

Eddie hated himself in the morning. He hate the way he acted when what’s-his-face got too close to Steve. He hated the way he acted when they were playing pool. He hated the way he threw back everything Steve had meant to him back in the guy’s face.

He needed to get to the bank to pull some money out. He needed to get some weed to unwind and dealers don’t take cash.

He shouldn’t buy from an unknown source especially since he didn’t know if it was still same supplier. But Steve was driving him out of his mind and all his nerves were raw and aching. Just like his fucking heart.

He got coffee from a Starbuck’s that definitely hadn’t been there when he left. They’re pastry section was shit but the little barista told him that was because no bought pastries from them, they all bought them from Sweetie’s Treats.

A place Eddie steadfastly refused to enter after his last encounter.

He let out a sigh and bought a pathetic little croissant, munching on the dry thing as he made his way to the bank.

It was going to be a long day. He could feel it in his bones.

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

I didn't tag this originally, I am so sorry. I was wondering why this wasn't getting the notes! Gosh! I don't how that happened!!

Tag List:

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @ravenfrog @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @vecnuthy @irregular-child

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

7- @blackpanzy @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras

8- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites

9- @mac-attack19 @blondie1006

[withacapitalp]

“Okay, so now we add the water, right?”

“No! No water!” Steve practically shouted, grabbing the pot and holding it high above his head so Joyce couldn’t reach it, “Joyce, we’ve talked about this,”

She rolled her eyes, putting the measuring cup on the counter and sighing. Robin and the kids giggled from their spot in the living room, the parade turned down low so they could hear every bit of the clownery going on in the kitchen. Steve turned the evil eye on them and put one hand on his hip. 

“And, peanut gallery, if you want to have food, you’ll want to keep your snark at bay. Unless you want to be the ones in here helping me make an entire Thanksgiving meal for fourteen.”

“Always the mom,” Max sighed, patting her stomach, “I’ll have you know if we’re not eating by five o’clock sharp, Nugget here will be making Lucas drive us to McDonalds,” 

Steve waved her off and turned back to the stove, placing down the pot and stirring his perfectly prepared potatoes. It felt kind of weird to keep thinking of them as kids now that they were all graduating from college. But, to Steve, they would always be kids. No matter how tall, how old, how many nuggets of their own they had, those seven little kids would always be the stupid pre-teens that had given him his life. 

“Now, it’s important to remember to continue to whisk, or else they’ll get clumpy.” Steve instructed in a no nonsense tone. He had eaten enough of her radioactive cooking to know where she would start to lose sight of the final product. 

“Are you torturing my wife?” Hopper asked as he entered into the fray, grabbing another round of beers for him and the boys. Steve could just catch the sound of Jonathan and Wayne yelling at the TV in the bedroom upstairs, calling the referee out on some bullshit play. 

“This is the real question, Hop. Is your wife torturing my husband?” A voice came from behind him, soft and buttery. A voice Steve had desperately missed, even though this trip had only been a short few weeks.

Steve hummed, leaning back into Eddie’s arms and letting his eyes slip shut for a second. Eddie had only been in Chicago for three weeks to re-record something for his newest album, but to Steve it was always too long.  Warm pale arms littered with scars came up around him, fingers playing with the silver chain around his neck. No government would ever recognize it, they couldn’t really tell the world, but the ring on that chain was everything to Steve, just like the man who had given it to him. 

“She is,” Steve fake-whispered into Eddie’s ear, “She’s trying to poison us all with liquid potatoes,”

“Lucky for us, we have you,” Eddie whispered back, pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek from behind, “God bless you, Mr. Potato Man.”

Steve snickered, turning around so he could fully face his partner. Eddie’s hair was shorter now than it was when they were young and stupid, and he was starting to get crows feet in the corner of his eyes.

He was more beautiful every time Steve saw him. 

“Quick! Eddie distract him while I put water in the potatoes!” Joyce cried. Eddie immediately went along with it, yanking Steve away from the stove and ignoring his protests as she began to experiment. Steve conceded defeat the second the paprika was pulled out of the cupboard. Some things would just never change. 

Eddie dragged him into the hallway, hiding them ever so slightly from the rest. 

“Glad to be home,” He murmured, hugging Steve close and resting their foreheads together. 

Home. The home Eddie had bought him all those years ago. The carpet in the living room was a soft cream now instead of gaudy orange, and there were boxes filled with mums in each window. The mold problem had been fully eradicated, but the screen door still swung open and shut in the wind. 

Steve didn’t mind it anymore.  It was just a part of the charm of their house. 

Their house. Even now it made his heart fill to the bursting to think of it. Their house.  

But now that Eddie was back, it was really home. 

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 8th-14th 2024

TWO MONTHS UNTIL SEASON 7!!!

I'm sorry it's late and I'm sorry if I missed anyone but my ao3 history was sortof a mess 😩 I think maybe some userscript I downloaded is fucking up my history. oh well. (or else someone has hacked my ao3 account and has been reading House M.D. fanfic?!?!? (how the fuck did I even get in my history, I don't even remember searching for anything that had House fics in the results wtf))

Complete

Followed By Ghosts by itsanapothecary (Canon Divergent, S1-S2 | 21K | Teen): Instead of hiding the truth about Daniel from their children, Margaret and Philip memorialize their lost son in every one of their remaining children's accomplishments. Growing up, neither Maddie nor Buck felt like they could escape the shadow of their brother. When Buck finds the 118, he gets a chance to be his own person, although the looming attention from his parents and weight of expectations threatens to jeopardize what he's built in Los Angeles.

no harm, no foul by callmenewbie/ @callmenewbie (Getting Together | 5K | Mature): Eddie knows how Buck feels. Buck knows how Eddie feels. So why is Eddie giving him the cold shoulder instead of talking about it?

what to do when evan buckley breaks into your house at 3:17 in the morning by oklahoma/ @malewifediaz (Love Confessions | 3K | Teen): After a night out drinking with Maddie, Buck (kind of) breaks in to Eddie’s house.

Wait For It by oliviacirce (PWP, Post-S6E6: Cursed | 8K | Explicit): Buck kind of liked not jerking off.

in a fix by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (Getting Together, PWP | 4K | Explicit): Buck gets himself into a bit of a sticky situation, and Eddie helps him out.

we were lucky once (could be lucky again) by hattalove/ @hattalove (Post-Break Up | 1K | Teen): which they're not together anymore, but they can't sleep apart.

Mark Me Like a Bloodstain (Burning Red) by sirencalls/ @usersiren (Vampire Eddie, Post-S4, PWP | 3K | Explicit): “Eddie, you’re freezing,” Buck says, worry creeping into his tone. “Eddie, we need to get you to the hospital—” “No.” His voice is echoey and strange, definitively not human, and he picks up on the way Buck’s pulse quickens. Fuck, he’s scaring Buck. The human part of him is ashamed, guilty for making Buck ever be afraid of him. The vampire part of him is delighted, is even more wanting because of it, and that’s why he calls himself a monster.

Kinktober 2021 series by sirencalls/ @usersiren (PWP | 31 works | 68K | Explicit)

all that is you makes up all that is me by soyxunxperdedor/ @messyhairdiaz (Post-S6E11 | 1K | General): “I was just checking if you’re ready…” Eddie says faintly, trailing off as his eyes track the path of the lightning seared across Buck’s skin. -or- In the aftermath of a lightning strike, Buck and Eddie have a conversation.

Long Overdue by mansikka (PWP | 3K | Mature): Eddie realizes his feelings for Buck are more than platonic; what's he supposed to do now?

kiss me, kiss me (i don't know if i can let you go) by ipretendtobesane/ @useramor (Getting Together, Accidental Kissing | 10K | General): If anyone ever asks- they were both drunk. Eddie knows they weren’t, he and Buck don’t like to drink during the week, regardless of whether or not they work the next day. If they are working, they don’t want to be out of it on the job, and if they’re not they don’t want to be out of it when Christopher wakes up the next morning at 7:00am with more energy than either of them can handle. But there’s not really a good explanation otherwise. No other way to explain why, as Buck was walking out the door, Eddie leaned in and gave him a soft kiss goodnight.

til there was you by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Hurt Buck, Married Buddie | 16K | Mature): In which Buck's appendix tries to kill him in the middle of a busy shift, and Eddie has to stage a dramatic rescue.

spread a little christmas cheer by soyxunxperdedor/ @messyhairdiaz (Post-S3E10: Christmas Spirit, PWP | 1K | Explicit): Eddie has a realization at the Christmas party and goes the wrong way with it.

do you love me? all you gotta do is say yes by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Friends to Fiances, Crack | 3K | Teen): “It’s always pretty fun to see a former fuckboy from your grad school era bootycall list all domestic and settled down.” or, two boy best friends and an ex lover walk into a grocery store. everyone is on their normalest behaviour.

🔥 Echoes of Your Name by sirencalls/ @usersiren (Canon Divergence, PWP, Sex Worker Buck | 9K | Explicit): Of course he’s immediately wary of it. Porn videos have never worked for Eddie, so why would the audio version of them be any different? It’s the same strangers faking the same moans and whines as the other actors, just without a pretty face to go with it. Eddie thinks it’ll almost be less effective—seeing every tiny reaction that someone has to what you’re doing to them is part of the fun—so he doesn’t have high expectations. He doesn’t expect it to work.

marry me, eddie diaz by elisela/ @elisela (Marriage Proposal | 1K | General): There’s a long silence, and then, “you do that a lot,” Eddie says, looking over at him strangely. “I do what a lot?” “Ask me to marry you,” Eddie says. “I know it’s just a joke, but I feel like—” he stops and shakes his head, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

sit present in the darkness by elisela (Post-Shooting, Established Buddie | 4K | General): In the midst of stories about their jobs, catching up on what the kids have said, and making endless fun of each other, Eddie’s sitting at his seat with his phone face down on the table in front of him. Occasionally it will buzz and he’ll look around the table, pick it up when he thinks no one is watching. He types something quickly, looks over his shoulder at the kid’s table—where Buck has been since the food was brought to them—and puts it down again. Face down. Karen knows this game. She’s played it before, almost lost.

WIP

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 13/? | 31K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

🔥 and if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Canon Divergent Season 6, Friends with Benefits | 2/18 | 9K | Explicit): or, an alternate look at season 6 where buck and eddie have been casually sleeping together since before the beginning of the season. somehow, this changes both everything and nothing at all.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 106/? | 290K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 9/? | 15K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.

🔥 for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 12/? | 105K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

🔥 Right Where You Left Me by hyacinthusbloom/ @thebloomingheather (Canon Divergent, Post-S4, Angst | 21/? | 106K | Explicit | ❗️Warning: Rape/Non-con): "Therapy?" Eddie suggests. Buck almost laughs, but instead says, "I'll go if you go." Because he had fully expected him to be chicken shit, to disagree, and instead Eddie, the bastard, replies, "Deal." Or Buck never tells anyone that he slept with his therapist and deals with the butterfly effect years later.

🔥 a foundation of trust and love we cannot see by lemonzestywrites/ @lemonzestywrites (FWB, BDSM, Sub Eddie, Dom Buck | 2/17 | 24K | Explicit): “It’s like I want to explore it and dive into it, but it’s not exactly like I’m seeing someone to try this all out with,” he explains, doing his best to keep down the annoyed huff that threatens to escape him at every other word. Buck nods to himself before steadily going silent. For a minute, Eddie thinks that this is the end of their conversation. “I can show you if you’d like.” Eddie nearly chokes on his beer.

Love Ends. by rowan_wood (Exes to Lovers | 5/17 | 7K | Explicit): But what if it doesn't?

Re-read

🔥 Relationship Advice from Complete Strangers Online by HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): When he gets home for the night, Buck turns to the one source of information that’s never let him down: the internet. But where does one go for relationship advice from complete strangers online? Which is how, ten minutes later, he finds himself on Reddit with a shiny new account and username. It takes him a while after that to craft his question for r/Relationships, but he thinks he’s got it pretty accurately conveyed before he hits post.

🔥 You Could Be The One I Keep by browney3dgirl6/ @hoodie-buck (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 6K | Teen): Eddie finally get's up the nerve to ask Buck out, his best friend accepting much easier than Eddie ever dreamed. Things are better than ever between them, the two of them becoming even closer, going out on several dates—only problem? Buck has no idea they're dating, like not even the slightest clue.

[munsonsmixtapes]

🦇💞🎤 for your summer request! Maybe reader and Eddie go to a concert that’s one of her favorites not his and he offers to drive her to the venue even if it’s far away and on the car ride they get to talking and maybe by the actual concert they realize how much they love each other ? Thank you !!

Ooh, I love this!

Eddie x bestie!fem!reader

It was pretty obvious that Eddie wasn’t really a fan of pop music, but you definitely were. In fact, it was pretty much the only genre you listened to. And as much as Eddie loved to tease you about it, he had to admit that a good bit of it was catchy.

As soon as he found out that your favorite band was coming to town, he knew he had to get the both of you tickets despite not being a big fan of theirs. Your friendship was still a pretty new and he was still trying to find ways to impress you.

Acts of service was definitely Eddie’s love language and that showed by all the nice things he always wanted to do for you. He loved show you just how much he cared for you, always giving you a ride wherever you needed to go even though you had a perfectly good car.

The man was falling for you, and hard. He didn’t mean to, but how could he not when you were so perfect? You so sweet and kind and treated him like he mattered when most of the time, he didn’t feel like he did. You convinced him that he could do whatever he wanted to in the world no matter what people thought. What if the only thing he wanted was to be yours?

Eddie’s van pulled up to the venue and you were buzzing with excitement. The drive had been at least an hour and you talked about how excited you were the entire time, talking about how much you wanted to get a t-shirt to remember the night by and how you were going to be so close that maybe your favorite band member would touch your hand.

He opened the car door for you and took your hand, keeping it in his as he walked towards the building. He claimed that it was for your safety, which it was. For the most part. But really, he just wanted to hold it. He loved the way it felt in his, all soft and smooth against his rough hand.

“C’mon, Ed, let’s go,” you pulled Eddie along and his heart melted at how you were behaving like a little kid in Disneyland. You were so goddamn adorable.

“I’m coming sweetheart, but my legs can’t move as fast as yours.” He was trying to keep up, but he was having trouble. You immediately pulled him over to the merch table and told the employee the exact one you wanted and reached for your wallet, only to not have it in your back pocket. You didn’t have any money on you so you guessed you weren’t getting a shirt after all.

“Don’t worry about it, I got it.” Eddie pulled out his own wallet and handed cash to the employee who handed the shirt over to Eddie. You tried to protest, but the shirt was already paid for.

Eddie moved you over to the side so the other concert goers could make their purchases and helped you out the shirt on, smiling to himself at how cute you looked in it. You looked up at him, seeing the warm look in his eyes and couldn’t help but fall even harder for him because of the sweet gesture.

“Thanks, Ed.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he winked. You pressed a kiss to his cheek and Eddie felt his skin blush at the feeling of your lips against it. They were just as soft as he had hoped and he desperately wanted to know what they felt like against his.

“I love you, Eddie,” you smiled and he swore his heart stopped in that moment. You loved him? Since when? He could have sworn that you had only ever seen him as a friend. Apparently, he was wrong.

“I love you too,” he smiled wide and you pressed your lips to his in a sweet kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck while his went to your waist. Your lips slotted together perfectly, like two puzzle pieces and you smiled against his, Eddie mimicking your actions. You were the first to pull away and Eddie took you by the hand, leading you to where your seats were.

“C’mon, we’re gonna miss the opener,” he told you, but you couldn’t have cared less. All you wanted to do what was kiss Eddie for the rest of your life.

You spent the entire show in each other’s arms, sharing multiple kisses while you sang along to your favorite songs. The lead singer even gave the two of you a shout out and dedicated their most romantic song to you. You sang along as Eddie pulled you into a dance, the lyrics you were singing, promising that you were gonna love him forever. And you would.

[forever-rogue]

Hi Bee! I've been a long time reader and fan of your blog! The way you write for Eddie is insane 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️ I love it 🥹 if you feel comfortable, could you please write something for fem!reader x Eddie where she has a history of being bullied (physically & verbally) and one day they could be arguing or something and Eddie is on edge and raises his voice and moves too quickly and she flinches (or maybe has a panic attack or something) I would really appreciate this ❤️🥺 comfort and fluff at the end because I need that rn ❤️

AN | Okay, but this is a little angsty but mostly soft 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language, mentions of past verbal abuse 

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a long week. Weeks, really. And you felt like you and Eddie were like ships passing in the night more than anything else. You were busy with college classes and your part time job, and he was busy working at the shop. He’d been working a lot lately, even more than he normally did, but you hadn’t questioned it. You knew that you didn’t bring in a lot of money only working part time while you finished your degree, but it would be worth it in the end. 

But Eddie, good, kind hearted, wonderful man that he was, insisted that you it was okay. He wanted you to be able to focus on your studies, rather than have to worry about working. He was the main provider for your little family of two, and while it was a lot of pressure, he wouldn’t have changed a thing. In fact, one of the reasons he’d been working even longer hours and helping a few customers on the side, was so he could save up to buy you an engagement ring. You always insisted that you didn’t need anything fancy, but Eddie wanted to do this right, he wanted to do all the things with you, including proposing with a pretty ring.

Right now though, you were desperately wanting to spend some time with him, so you went ahead and planned a little date night for the two of you. You’d gotten a few very generous tips at the cafe lately and stashed them away in the rainy day fund; and now it was time to use them. You wanted a nice night out for both of you. 

“Eddie Spaghetti,” you were grinning from ear to ear as you walked into your shared apartment. You’d just gotten out of class and he should have been home a few minutes before you. He didn’t respond to your excited call for him and you wondered if he was home yet, “babe?”

You walked into the bedroom and found him sitting at the edge of the bed, boots off and a fresh change of clothes. He was breathing deeply, eyes closed and leaned back on his hands. Poor thing looked tired, and you knew he deserved the rest. 

“Babe-”

“I heard you,” he said, not altogether rudely or kindly either, “hi sweetheart.”

“Hello my love,” you kneeled at his feet, reaching for his hand to take in yours, “I missed you today! I’ve been missing you a lot lately.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he responded with a gentle squeeze of your hand, looking into your eyes for a split second. You could see the exhaustion in them and it made your heart constrict.

“Listen, I set a little bit of money aside for us and I thought we could go out tonight,” you were grinning, but there was an unreadable expression on his features, “get dinner and maybe catch a movie?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart.”

“I just think it would be nice to have a night out to ourselves-”

“I can’t tonight,” he repeated as you pouted at him, “I’m sorry - maybe this weekend, okay?”

“But Eddie-”

“Please!” he snapped suddenly, dropping your hand as he gave you a sharp look. You’d never heard him raise his voice before…especially not at you. The only time you really heard him get loud was when he was in the thrill of the moment during a new campaign, “I’m exhausted and I have to go back to work tonight.”

“I don’t think you should-”

“Really?” his eyes narrowed and you gulped nervously, “then who is going to pay for everything, huh?”

“Eddie,” you stepped back, your heart racing as you felt the stinging of tears in the back of your eyes, “I-I-”

“Not all of us have the luxury of going to school and working a few hours here and there at a coffee shop!” you’d never heard him this mad before, not in over three years of dating, and it frightened you. You didn’t like this Eddie and wanted your Eddie back. You flinched away from him, trying to hide how scared you were.

“I just thought you could use a break,” your voice sounded so small and hurt that it broke Eddie’s heart. He shouldn’t have snapped at you, shouldn’t have taken his momentary anger (which was not even at you) out on you, “you’ve been working so hard. I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Sweetheart,” he tried to reach for you but you shook your head and pulled away to where he couldn’t reach you, “honey - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. Will you come here, please?”

“No,” you shook your head and clambered to your feet before scampering towards the door, “please just don’t.”

“Angel,” he got up and tried to walk over to you but you ducked in the hallway, “what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m going to go,” you stammered nervously, almost running into the living room to grab your bookbag. Eddie followed you slowly, trying to keep a bit of distance that you obviously needed, “I-I’ll see you later.”

You were gone and out the door before he could say anything else, heading to your care. You weren’t sure exactly what to do, but you just needed some space. You’d never had a single moment with him like that before and it felt terrible. This wasn’t Eddie, and you knew that he wasn’t going to turn into some monster, but the moment had settled harshly in your bones. 

Eddie’s eyes welled up with tears as he stared at the door. He hated the look on your face; he hated himself more for snapping at you. He’d just been so tired and run down, and it had all come to a head. Unfortunately, it was you that was caught in the crossfire; his love, his princess, his angel. The last person he ever wanted to hurt. And he’d just gone and done that.

“Fuck,” he sighed at himself, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. He wanted to come after you, figuring you’d more than likely have gone to Steve and Robin’s place. But, more than anything, he wanted you to be comfortable, so he opted to give you space instead. 

 ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got home, Eddie was already in bed. But he wasn’t sleeping, instead he was staring at the ceiling, unable to calm his worried mind down. He heard the front door open and close, followed by your soft tread, but remained still and silent. He noticed the hesitation in your tread after he heard your bag settle on the floor, followed by your shoes. He hated the idea that he was the reason for your quiet shyness. 

You paused outside the bedroom door, noticing that it was still partly open, almost like a sign of apology. You paused with your hand on the knob before slowly pushing it open and letting yourself in. There was a soft glow from the bedside table where the small lamp was still on. It illuminated his body, but you knew immediately that he was still awake.

“E-Eddie?” you whispered softly, padded over to your side of the bed, cautiously sitting down. Your boyfriend rolled over so he was facing you, blinking softly but not yet saying anything so he wouldn’t push you further. You met his eyes and offered him a small little half smile. He visibly relaxed when he saw that you weren’t shying away, “I know it’s late, but can we talk?”

“Yeah - y-yes,” he sat up and leaned against the headboard, lightly patting the space next to him. You didn’t even bother to take off your clothes before crawling into your side of the bed, sitting cross legged next to him, “I…first of all, I want to say how sorry I am. I should never have talked to you like that. I know you probably don’t believe me right now and I don’t expect you to, but I will never talk to you like that again. I swear it.”

“I know,” you nodded softly, playing with a loose thread hanging from the sleeve of your sweater, “I know you won’t, Eddie. I know that a one time thing isn’t going to change our entire relationship.” 

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” you raised a tentative hand before reaching over and touching his cheek, brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttered closed at the feel of your soft palm on his skin, “I think I owe you an explanation too.”

“Sweetheart,” he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and brought your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, “I am tired, and I’ve been tired and I know you have been too. And it’s not because you don’t work hard - I know you do. I know it’s not just going to school full time and working part time. And it’s nothing I hold against you, because that’s what we agreed to, and let’s be honest, school ain’t for me.”

“Eddie, you’ve been working so much,” you whispered, “and I don’t want you to run yourself into the ground. We’ll be okay if you cut back your hours, especially the extra ones. I can always pick a few more hours on the weekends…but we’ll figure it out.”

“I…” he swallowed thickly, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing, “I know I can cut back and we’d be okay….I took the extra shifts and hours because I was using them to save some extra money.”

“Oh,” your brows furrowed in surprise; you spotted the dark pink flush in his cheeks, “whatever for?”

“I was saving up so I could buy you a ring,” he confessed, looking like a shy boy rather than a grown man. Your eyes widened in surprise and you couldn’t prevent the small gasp that escaped your lips. A wave of emotion caused your eyes to prickle with tears, “I know you said you didn’t need an engagement ring or a big proposal or any of that, but baby, I want to do this. I want to do it right, and get you that ring.”

“Oh Eddie,” a few tears had prickled up and rolled down your cheeks, which he tenderly wiped away, “I had no clue…I…I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he promised, “I hope you’re not mad…”

“Of course I’m not mad,” you beamed at him, “I think you’re a stubborn man that won’t change his mind, huh?”

“I won’t,” he agreed, causing you to giggle at him, “I’m gonna cut back my hours, I swear. But I’m also going to get you that ring, yeah?”

“Okay,” you didn’t need or want fancy material things like shiny rings, but damn. You weren’t about to say no to Eddie. You knew now that he’d spoken his piece, it was your turn to speak yours, “I, ugh, also want to apologize for how I reacted earlier. I, umm, growing up kinda sucked, you know? Well, I know you know. I never really gave you the full details, ‘cause it never felt necessary. But in school I was bullied a lot, especially when I was young because of being different. Home wasn’t much better; my mom, she…liked my older brother and sister a lot but with me it was different. For whatever reason, she hated me and my life a living hell half the time. She used to call me names, tell me I was stupid and unlovable, and would never get anywhere in life.”

“Sweetheart…”

“She liked to yell, a lot, almost like it was her form of a drug,” you shrugged, “I’m sure that’s why I don’t like any sort of yelling nowadays. I never really left like I fit in anywhere. Not until I met you….you and the rest of the gang.”

“I…I’m sorry,” was all he managed to choke out as he settled his hand on your neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin, “I had no clue…I-I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“We all go through our own things,” you put your hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I should have told you sooner…but I want you to know that you are the best thing that has happened to me. I love you very much, Eddie.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he leaned in and pressed a soft barely there kiss to your lips, “will you forgive me? I know it’s a lot to ask for.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you leaned your cheek against his, breathing in slowly, “we both…it’s not that we made mistakes, it’s just that….we just didn’t quite sync up today. And that’s okay, because we’ll learn and it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t,” his eyes were soft and bambi-like, making your heart melt. You loved this man beyond measure, and you knew he left the same, “how about we use some of that extra money we’ve stashed away and go away this weekend, huh? Just the two of us, no cares in the world.”

“I’d like that,” the smile on your face was breathtaking and electric and Eddie was positive he’d just fallen a little more in love, “let’s do it.”

“Let’s do it,” he agreed softly, “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Eddie.”

[thecomfortgoth]

Kiss From A Rose

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI (istfg do not)

2k words (I got carried away lol)

CW: smut, masturbation with a toy (F receiving, M giving), praise kink, soft!dom Eddie, oral sex at the end (F receiving), lil bit fluffy and lovey, established relationship, reader and Eddie are in their mid/late 20's, pet names, no use of y/n, little bit of possessiveness ig

Please let me know if I missed anything above

A/N: Here's a small drabble that may or may not have come to me in the form of my overactive imagination at night, I will not be taking any further questions, thankyouuuuu. Feedback is very appreciated as this is my first ever smut drabble thingy I've ever written and I'm nervous lol. Banners and seperators made by me (it was my first go, I tried my best)

You're not sure how long you've been laying here. Not sure how long you've been trying to muffle your whines and gasps as your boyfriend Eddie gives you the kind of orgasms you'd only been able to dream about before you met him. After all, you definitely don't want your roommates to wake up again hearing you two going at it like a couple of horny teenagers. You'd only just moved in and one awkward breakfast had been enough for you to tell Eddie when they were home, you both had to keep it down.

To which he just smirked and said "Is that a challenge sweetheart?"

That's what lead to this. To him having you laying on your back in your bed that very same night, legs parted wide for him, the man in question laid on his side next to you, an arm slung around you grabbing at the soft skin of your breasts and teasing the peaks of your nipples with his fingertips, his other hand between your legs using your rose vibrator on your throbbing clit.

Your pussy had really been through it tonight, since you'd lost count of how many orgasms you'd had now. And Eddie knew that god damn toy made you crumble with ease, especially when he used it on you. He just seemed to do it right, seemed to inherently know exactly how to make it suck at your soaked clit in just the right way, at just the right angle. And he would build it up torturously slow, inching the pressure and speed up bit by fucking bit. He was a bastard for that, but holy fuck did you love it.

"Does that feel good, angel? Oh it does doesn't it? I can tell from that beautiful look on your face, you're gonna lose it soon aren't you baby?" He coo's mockingly sweet in your ear, a low dark chuckle coming from him, his voice just above a whisper as he kisses along your cheek and jaw, down to the juncture of your neck, groaning low and quiet, small growls every now and then when you clench this way or that way, twitch in his arms a little too much, almost like the hum of an engine. His solid cock lay between the underside of your thigh and his own stomach, his arm keeping you from moving it at all, his hips rolling against your plushness as he chased any friction he could while he brought you over the edge again and got his stamina back to fuck you again.

He couldn't give *you* a break though. No, you were going to keep falling apart for him until you either begged him to stop or he was done with you, whatever came first. And you knew you'd *never* beg for such a thing, you loved when he did this, you loved when he was like this, completely insatiable, almost primal and obsessed and needy to give you as many delicious endings as he could. That was Eddie's thing. He was definitely a giver. Seeing you get off was enough to make him jizz his pants. And it had several times in the past.

You fisted the sheet beneath you, turning your head slightly to look at him through half lidded misty eyes, seeing him look at you with both fondness and lust, his breath now fanning your face. Your chest was heaving, your tits moving rapidly with each breath you took, a thin layer of sweat formed over the expanse of your body as he gazed over you, a small grunt coming from him as he turned the damn toy he had attached to your bud up a notch, making you gasp loudly, your lips twitching as they opened wider.

"Yeah? That it, baby? Right there? Come on, let me have it, gimme another one, you're doing so fucking good for me angel, so so fucking good, always so good" he said, his voice raspy and hoarse, almost sounding as fucked out as you felt. His bangs were stuck to his forehead and you were both panting into each others mouths, hips rolling in opposite directions, rushing towards that cliffs edge you both so desperately needed right now at god knows what time in the night it was.

He was completely in awe with you, with how you looked so effortlessly breathtaking, even in the darkness of your bedroom, the only light provided from the moon outside peeking through your thin curtains. He watched how your whole body almost glittered with perspiration, making you look even more ethereal than he originally had thought. He was so fucking gone for you, it was ridiculous. He found himself falling more and more for you in the simplest of ways. And in the filthiest of ways.

"Eddie.." you sighed, almost sounding desperate, lips parted and wet, eyes half rolling back in your head as you reached forward and clung to his bicep, nails digging in a little and leaving little half moon marks in his skin.

You could feel that ball tightening low in your gut, the rush of blood going straight to your head and the pounding of your heart in your ears. "Baby, be good for me yeah? Be good and cum for me, just once more, just one more time, please sweetheart, need to see you cum again, so bad, show me how good I make you feel, angel" he almost whined, sounding as desperate as you felt and looked right now.

It was then that you suddenly gasped, your mouth hung open in a silent scream as your head lulled back, your eyes rolling right into your skull as your hips bucked up into the air, your toes curling into the mattress and your legs stiffening, feeling that hot white heat spill over you, your orgasm washing away every last thought you had in your mind and leaving only crippling pleasure in its wake.

Eddie coaxed and praised you through it, mumbling his own pussydrunk curses as he kissed your jaw sloppily and spilled out his own release onto your thigh and his torso at the exact same time, not even caring about the clean up job he'd absolutely have to do when you were done. There was already cum and sweat and spit all over both of you and the poor new grey cotton sheets your best friend had bought you as a moving present.

"There she is, that's my good girl, so fucking beautiful when you cum for me, so fucking beautiful all the time but god.. I can't get enough of that.. wish I could bottle that and have it with me all the time" he groaned, slowing his actions down as he rolled the toy around your clit a little more, making you whimper a little higher pitched and jerk in his arms from the oversensitivity of it all, pushing at his arm to signal him to stop. He shushed you, soothing you gently as he turned the toy off and pulled it away from you, tossing it to the end of the bed. He'd deal with cleaning that later too.

He rolled your now tired limp body onto your side, pulling you against his chest, feeling the sticky warmth between you both, but neither of you caring. He kissed you sweetly, slowly, lovingly, just wanting to feel you close as he held you tight, his arms feeling like the safest warmest security blanket you'd ever had. You lazily wrapped your arms around him, small aftershocks wracking through you as you whimpered quietly against his lips. It was a wonder after being together this long that he still made you feel like the giggly shy schoolgirl you used to be when you'd first met in high school. And truth be told, he had felt the same way that whole decade ago now. He still feels that way, he's sure he'd always feel that way.

You both kiss for what seems like forever, lips meeting in sync with each other, spit connecting you when you pause for a mere breath before immediately getting back to it, making out with each other like if you didn't you'd cease to exist or crumble to nothing in each others hold.

"You always make me feel like I'm floating, Eds. Never gonna get enough, never gonna get tired of it" you whispered against his lips when you stole a quick breath, his hands roaming your sides and back. You hear him groan ever so slightly.. and suddenly you're on your back again, he's hovering over you, kissing you hungrier and needier again.

You shouldn't have opened your damn mouth.

He begins kissing his way down your jaw again, your hands finding purchase in his damp curls at the back of his head, making his way to your throat where he nips at it a little, teeth sinking into already bruised flesh where he'd sucked half a dozen hickeys into your skin already earlier this evening, making you whimper pathetically.

"Eddie.. I... I can't.." you whine, and he shakes his head.

"You can doll, I know my pretty girl can, can't you baby? You wanna be good for me right?" he mumbles almost absent mindedly, now mouthing over your collarbones as his fingertips pinch at your sensitive nipples, making you arch your back and whine way back in your throat. You do want to be good for him. Because he's always so good for you. He is good for you, in every meaning of the phrase.

You know exactly where this is going already.. you thought it was over for tonight. And you thought wrong. You don't have the will to tell your beautiful boy no when he's like this. Nor do you really have the sense to.

Eddie kisses between the valley of your breasts, down your sweat slicked stomach, his tongue peeking out to flick over each of your nipples in passing, his hands engulfing your thighs once again and spreading you open, completely indecent to the world and completely at his mercy. You don't have the energy to push him away. Not that you want to anyway.

He finally settles between your legs, kissing the small mound just above your clit as you watch him through wet eyes, your lashes already coated with the formation of tears, your chest heaving and your breath laboured again.

Brown orbs connect with your own, animalistic and hungry as his gaze flicks to your cunt and then back to your eyes, a small curse coming from him as he mutters something under his breath about how pretty you look like this for him, which makes your breath catch in your throat. He finally settles down onto his belly, ringed fingers digging in and pushing your thighs as far as they could go, your legs shaking a little as he does so. One of Eddie's favourite things in the world was this. Having you obscenely open for him, your cunt inches from his watering mouth, completely naked and unravelled. Completely you. The you only he gets to see. And only would ever get to see for the rest of your fucking life, if he has anything to say about it.

He leans down after studying your glistening folds for a moment, sticking his tongue out and licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, groaning a little too loudly as his eyes flutter closed and you watch him. You can't even muster the strength to scold him, especially not through your own strangled moan as he does so, placing small gentle kisses against your poor aching clit as he finishes his lewd slurp of you, looking up at you with his eyes almost now black.

"One more for me princess, yeah? Just gotta taste you again then I'm done, one more, promise baby. Remember, gotta be quiet yeah? Don't want them to hear us do we?" He smirked into your cunt, knowing you were both way past that at this point.

But it was never just one more. You didn't mind one fucking bit that it was never one more. Nor did you really mind the noise now.

Awkward breakfasts were so fucking worth this.

Thank you for reading my late night random filth lol. Please let me know if you enjoyed this and if you'd want more in the future. I have so many ideas for drabbles, fics, series and more.

[hellfire--cult]

Baring Teeth {Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader} - Ch. 11

Edit of Eddie: pitifulbaby

Chapters: Masterlist (Go here to see list of chapters, plotline and general warnings.)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers, Non-Traditional Omegaverse, Slow burn, Modern!AU, Mechanic!Eddie

⚠️This chapter contains: Angst, traumatic past briefly, mentions of cancer, anxiety and nervousness

wc: 7.8k

A/N: It's starting to look brighter, isn't it? 🥰 I'm so sorry for taking so long to update this!

Anyways, Enjoy! ❤️ And don't forget to always support me by hitting the reblog button or leave a comment!

Taglist is closed

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CHAPTER 11

“I made her cry.”

That was Eddie’s excuse. One that almost got him to get kicked out from Nancy’s party, and he was going to leave, all for the sake of not telling anyone about your past. You defended him by saying that he let you hit him, and everyone was confused at that, but by the look on your face and your reddened eyes, no one pressed on the subject.

You told everything to Robin the next day.

“I can’t believe you went through all of that… I promise, I won’t hurt you like that, I don’t want to see you hurt like that.” Those were Robin’s words as she hugged you, tears running down her face as you sobbed onto her shoulder, staining her white blouse with your running mascara. It was going to be hard, trusting someone like you had trusted Camila or Henry in your past, but Robin was already there, and all that was left was this small step of telling her everything. 

She was also angry that Eddie got to know about it first, but you explained to her that he made you snap and it just slipped out of your mouth. You simply exploded, and deep in your heart you kind of thanked him for that. A small part of your heart of course. Robin now understood why you hit him, and her respect for Eddie stood like always thanks to that, because Eddie never let anyone hit him again, not after what he went through in high school. 

Because of everything that happened, you still didn’t break the news of your new relationship to the group. You weren’t going to steal Nancy’s spotlight on her birthday, and then you were just too broken, with wounds wide open through the week. Billy came by to take care of you, almost everyday, not even knowing about what was going on with you, but simply staying next to you, cuddling you, pampering you, giving soft kisses on your forehead until you felt like getting back onto your two feet again. 

“Whatever happened, I’m here for you baby, okay?” He whispered over and over to you, and the warmth you felt for him was growing each day. You never thought he would be an attentive boyfriend, yet, he has been proving you wrong for weeks, and this week in particular just made you more and more vulnerable to him. You were letting down your walls, slowly, and maybe you can tell him about this past of yours, but now, it wasn’t the time, not when it was this fresh.

“Liana wants to see you in her office.” Your thoughts were completely cut off as you looked up from your cut ups and small paragraphs as you arranged a page for the magazine. Robin was looking at you with a confused look on her face, and she simply shrugged at you, not knowing what your boss wanted. You slowly stood up from your chair, your heart increasing its pace because she was still your boss, despite the friendly conversations you might have with her, she was still your superior.

“What could possibly be the issue? I gave all the final reviews in time.” You say to Robin as she walks with you towards the elevator. Your thoughts were processed quickly, trying to think if you missed something, a picture in a page maybe, but no, you checked many times before handing in the final project. Maybe it isn’t even something bad and you’re just going crazy in your head.

“I really have no idea, she just told me to call you after leaving her the word samples.” You bit your lip nervously, as you pressed the button to call the elevator. You looked at Robin in a panicked mood and she rubbed your shoulder with a small smile to her face. What Robin didn’t tell you was that Liana looked angry of some sort, or simply in a bad mood altogether. The metal doors opened and you stepped in, waving at Robin and pressing the button to the second floor. 

You had no idea what’s going on, Liana didn’t call you to her office unless something happened, an emergency or something was catching on fire basically. You were hoping it had nothing to do with your projects, because you were completely sure you gave them in even before the deadline and you rechecked everything like three times. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, making you take a deep breath in and step out. You greeted Carol, the receptionist that was just chewing gum while filing her nails. She gave you a nod to go to Liana’s office and you felt your feet just sweating as you opened the door and closed it behind you.

“Liana, you called for me?” You say to her figure that was deep into a folder that was on her desk. She looked up at you from her glasses and she motioned for you to come over and sit down. You gulped because she always greeted you with a smile, and this was not one of those times. You walked over to the chairs across from the desk, sitting on one, crossing your legs and waiting to hear what she had to say. She sighed and pushed her glasses down, leaving them on the desk to look at you.

“I did call for you…” She tapped on the folder that was on her desk once and it sent a chill down your spine. “I really care for you. You know that. I am not here to be a villain, I really am not…”

“I am… not really understanding.” You mumble to her and she sighs, pushing the folder towards you. You frown as you hold onto it, flipping it open for your eyes to widen slightly, your heart in your throat as you look at the contents.

“You know it is against company policy to date clients, don’t you?”

You were starting to breathe heavily as you stared at the picture of you and Billy at a restaurant, evidently taken by a paparazzi. You sometimes forget he is a famous model, and his popularity is rising, a fanbase is being created, and the paparazzis are driven by greed and selfishness. You gulped heavily again as you raised your head to look at your boss again.

“I can explain–”

“No need. Ralph already bought those pictures so they won’t be published. I also know from Ralph that you are officially dating Mr. Hargrove.” Fuck, goddamnit Billy. You closed your eyes as you felt your career falling into pieces at all of this.

“Liana, I– it happened so suddenly, I swear I had no intention of this happening, or even searched for it myself… We just– talked a lot.” You tried to talk but you knew that your throat was beginning to close up on you, your guts turning wildly with nervousness and anxiety.

“I won’t meddle in matters of the heart. But you know about this policy, yet you still dated a client.” You licked your lips, looking down at the picture of Billy and you, just smiling at one another, and you felt your tears coming towards your eyes. Your mind started racing because everything was fresh and you could just cut everything off right now because you didn’t love Billy, not yet, and you didn’t want to risk your years of college and your experience in this job and the position you’re in for a fling that only started almost two months ago.

Yet it still hurts you, deeply.

“I– I can break it off, I mean, I don’t want to lose my job, and we haven’t been together for long, so–- so–” You covered your mouth as a sob ripped from your chest and Liana immediately got up from her chair, rushing towards you, her hands gripping your shoulders and rubbing them up and down with shushing sound to calm you down as your chest felt like it was exploding.

“I would never ask that from you. I don’t want you to break up with him darling. I was never asking for that, and I am not firing you for this.” You blinked at her words, a sniffle heard from your nose as you turned to look at her with a frown to your face. She sighed and sat on the chair next to you, pressing her hand on your knee.

“What?”

“I was just going to tell you what Ralph told Billy. Keep the public spaces to a minimum. There is going to be a point where Billy is not going to be our client any longer, and then you will have free roam with each other.”

You blinked wildly at her, not believing what was going on. You broke the company’s policy, you literally broke it and she wasn’t firing you. Was this really happening? Was she sparing you? Is this even possible to happen? Your mind was reeling over and over again, not understanding how she was actually allowing your relationship to happen.

“I– I– You’re not firing me?” Liana’s eyes widened and she shook her head wildly at you.

“No! You’re one of my best editors here! Losing you is like letting a diamond slip out of my hands for fuck sake.” You knew that when Liana cursed in front of you, it showed how much trust she had in you, and you felt your shoulders relax as your chest finally warmed up again at her praise. 

“Pretty sure there’s a lot of talent out there though.” You say with a flushness to your cheeks. She smiled and walked back towards her chair, sitting down in front of you.

“But none of them is you.” You felt your ears burn and you nodded with a smile to your face. Liana really resembled your mother, always caring, always giving a hand, and there are moments like these where you miss your mother’s hugs, or her reassurances, or her opinions, or her soft touches to your hair telling you that everything is going to be okay.

“S-So… I can… Keep dating Billy?” You ask her and she gives you a nod to then scoot over, her elbows propped on the table as her hands went under her chin, curiosity prickling her eyes.

“How did you snatch that man? He is really handsome, and from your smile it looks like he treats you right.” Liana says with excitement in her tone and you feel your cheeks heat up at that. You really had no idea how it happened or why it happened either. You never thought a man like Billy Hargrove would look your way, but the moment he did, your confidence was boosted. 

“I– I really don’t know… Meetings here, then calls and well… It just happened. And he really does treat me right, despite him being known and all that.” You say with a smile at the thought of him. He really had you in the palm of his hand, and your belly always reminded you of it, making it burst with butterflies the moment his smile popped up in your head.

“Well, I hope he keeps it that way. Don’t want to see you hurt… And–” You saw Liana stutter for a minute, and look to the side. She licked her lips and you frowned slightly at her change of mood. “If he does hurt you, tell me. I excel at planning revenge.” She smirked at you and you couldn’t help but giggle and shake your head.

“Don’t worry, I don’t really think it will be necessary.” You say to her but Liana only frowns a bit, making your smile falter.

“It’s still soon… You still have to get to know each other, know your plans for now, the future… Just, be careful, okay?” You blinked at her words, slightly confused. She was right, of course, you and Billy don’t know each other entirely. There are past memories that you both didn’t share with one another yet, there are no future plans, there is probably so much more to learn from him, and you know that. 

Because deep inside there is still that bug that doesn’t quite die. That bug doesn’t let you trust freely. That bug that nestled inside your body after what happened with Camila and Henry. You weren’t going to fall headfirst for Billy, you aren’t that naive anymore, and you know better now.

“I know… Thank you.” You smile at your boss and she gives you a warm smile back with a nod towards the door.

“Good. Remember, privacy from now on.” You gave her a nod and stood up from the chair to give her a small wave as you walked out of the office. You finally let the air from your lungs leave your body as you stepped into the elevator and went down to your floor again. You really thought you had lost your job right then and there. You felt like you were going to faint when seeing those pictures.

“Did you get fired!?” The doors didn’t even fully open and Robin was already yelling from the other side, completely startling you, making you jump. 

“Jesus fucking christ Robin!” You put your hand over your chest as you feel your heart beating fast inside your chest thanks to the scare. You were cursing at her in your mind as you stepped out of the elevator. “No, I didn’t get fired.” 

“Oh, then what happened?” She asks and you turn to her, seeing her puppy dog eyes for you to tell her what went down at the office. A pang of guilt filled your chest as you looked at her and you grabbed her hand to drag her towards your own office, Robin asking what was going on as you passed other coworkers. 

“Seriously, you’re fucking scaring me.” You closed the door after she stepped in and turned to her, whispers coming out of your lips.

“Alright, uh… She knows.” At that, Robin raised an eyebrow in complete confusion, not understanding why you were talking like that at all.

“She knows… What?” You took a deep breath in and you put your finger on your lips for her to keep her voice low. Robin rolled her eyes and pressed her lips together, pulling them inwards to emphasize that she will remain quiet.

“That I’m with Billy.” You whispered and her eyes widened but her mouth never opened as she yelled inwardly, her hands running through her hair as she stepped back in a panic, about to start pacing, but then she stopped and looked at you again, her mouth opening to whisper.

“And she didn’t fire you?” She asks and your nervousness takes over you, looking down at your hands as you play with your fingers.

“I– No… She didn’t fire me… And she didn’t want me to break up with him either.” At that Robin just simply stands there, still with the confused look on her face and you almost roll your eyes at how dense she could be sometimes. You really loved her, you truly do, but damn you had to have patience with her.

“Break up? You are just fucki—” You could almost hear the ‘Ding Ding Ding’ bell sound in Robin’s head as if she just got the answer right on some show. You licked your lips nervously as you made a shushing sound as you walked towards her.

“I– I am sorry for not telling you sooner, I just wasn’t ready, but… I am dating Billy, we’re official.” Robin was still stunned, looking at you with wide eyes and you raised your eyebrows at her in worry as she was unresponsive. Was she mad? Was she sad? Was she confused? She just generally looks shocked. Suddenly she pulls her lips into her mouth again as she gives a muffled scream while staring at you, and then you could see the smile spreading with her lips still tucked inside which made her look devilish. She grabbed your hands and started doing happy jumps in excitement and you giggled and followed her.

Two grown ups jumping like teenagers in a corporate office. What a sight.

She stopped after a second and she let out the breath she was holding in. Robin was smiling at you as she squealed again, shaking your hands in excitement and you couldn’t help but giggle at her reaction, looking towards your door to check if anyone was listening to you both at all. 

“Holy shit!” Robin whispered to you and you smiled at her as your cheeks began to flush, warmth spreading all over your face.

“I know… He was the one to ask actually.” You bit your lip as you kept whispering to Robin and she immediately pulled you into a hug. After knowing what had happened to you, she also understood why you went to all those dates, and she must imagine how hard it must be to trust someone again in your life the way you are doing with Billy. You wrapped your arms around her, laying your head on her shoulder, appreciating the kind gesture.

“Who would've thought? You made Billy Hargrove fucking settle…” She pulled away from you with a smirk to her face. “Are you like a goddess at sex?” You rolled your eyes at that with a smile on your lips and you shook your head at her.

“No, we just got to know each other, and well… I really like him Robs.” You bite your lip again as you feel embarrassed to even say something like that. Your best friend simply giggles at your reaction and then she gasps, making you look up at her in surprise.

“Wait, so, what did Liana say to you?” She asked and you made an ‘oh’ sound, completely forgetting to tell her that important part.

“Okay so, she found out because a picture was taken of us by a paparazzi. Billy’s manager bought the rights of the picture before it went public so… now we just have to meet privately, no more public places.” You sigh at that because you really liked going out with Billy, he would always hold your hand over the table and you would play footsies with him underneath it, stirring him up in a public space. You heard Robin sigh and nod at your words.

“I mean, he will stop being your client at some point. I guess that’s when you could go public?” You nod at that and Robin hums at your agreement. A smirk started spreading on your friend’s lips and you gulped when she put an arm around your shoulders. “So… No one knows but me?” 

“No Robin.” You say to her and she giggles at that, the smirk still on her lips as you look at her with worried eyes.

“Well… You do remember tonight we’re going to Jonathan’s, right?”

“WHAT?!” Everyone that was in the room of Jonathan’s apartment yelled loudly as you pinched your eyes together at the shriek of voices. The only one who didn’t yell was Robin, who was sitting back on the couch, drinking a can of beer with a smile to her face.

“When did it happen!?” You heard Nancy yell and you sighed, looking at her.

“Your birthday.” Her mouth hung open at the revelation as she looked at Steve who was still struck by the information. 

“You are dating Billy Hargrove, not just sleeping with him… Did I hear that right?” He asks and you gulp, looking at your friend. To be honest, Steve was the one you were scared to tell this to the most. He was like a worried mother all of the time, and you remember vividly how against the idea of you sleeping with a model he was. 

“Babe…” Jonathan called to him and Steve put a finger up at him to shut his mouth. His boyfriend rolled his eyes and looked at you with pity from what Steve could say right now.

“Yes Steve, I am dating Billy, officially.” At that Steve scrunches up his nose, almost in disapproval and your patience and anger are slowly rising up. You cross your arms over your chest and you wait for him to talk.

“Does he treat you right?”

“Very.” That was your short response and Steve’s eyebrows were slightly pinched down, with a feeling he couldn’t quite point out, but it wasn’t a happy one. Yet, he looked back at you, and your face was firm, hard yet you were looking at your friend with hopeful eyes to be happy for you and not judge you. Steve sighed and put his hands on his hips, pointing at you.

“I’ll be the judge of that when we meet him.” You rolled your eyes at him, yet a giggle was heard from you, making Steve smile. He might not be entirely sure about the whole dating a famous person thing, but if you look happy then that’s enough. 

“Señorita, good job on nailing that dude. So that means your anniversary is the same day as Nancy’s birthday?” Argyle asks with a hand to your shoulder. You blink at not having realized that fact and you quickly turned your head to Nancy who simply shrugged at the news, not caring for it. You turned to Argyle again and giggled at him.

“Yeah, it seems so.” 

“Awesome. This calls for a toast then muchachos!” He raised his beer bottle up as everyone else lifted their respective glasses and bottles and then the sound of the door clicking caught everyone’s ears, turning their heads to the new person entering.

“Seriously, lock the door– What are you guys doing?” Eddie asks as his face turns from anger to confusion in a split second, seeing everyone raising their drink of choice up in the air. 

“We’re having a toast, join in.” Jonathan says and Eddie blinks as he gets a bottle of beer out of the bag he brought, and walks towards the group, opening the cap with his teeth in a single move, making your eyes widen at him.

You haven’t talked to Eddie since that night, and you really don’t know where your relationship stands now. You aren’t his friend, yet he is no longer a sore enemy. At Nancy’s party he didn’t talk to you at all, except if you needed a smoke or if you were near the fridge while he was getting something, he would ask you if you wanted anything. 

“Okay, what am I toasting for?” Eddie asks, looking at everyone in the circle and you suddenly feel anxious at him knowing. He will probably make fun of you, or tell you all the possible bad scenarios that might happen with this relationship, because you just knew Eddie. You know how this will end. You were about to talk, to give another excuse, to lie, but Nancy smiled at him and talked, calling out your name.

“She is finally officially dating Billy.” She blurts and Eddie blinks at the news, looking at you with eyes that you really didn’t know what were transmitting to you. Here it comes, the banter, the yelling, the sarcastic comment.

“Well shit, congratulations Peach.”

What? 

You were stunned, paralyzed at the change, and you got out of the trance when you heard the clinking of everyone’s glasses hitting yours. Everyone is smiling at you, wishing you good luck in this new step in your life, in this new flipping of a page in your book. But your eyes were glued to one person in particular, who was also smiling at you. Did the relationship really change that night? Did the doors close behind you and really left what you and Eddie were before in there to never be seen again? Can you become friends with him?

For all you know, he might be faking the congratulations, so you better not think too much about it. Not right now. You took a sip out of your beer and you felt Argyle talking to you again, making your head snap at him, not realizing you were looking at Eddie while he was talking to Nancy.

“So, um… He does treat you right… right?” Your heart softened at his words and care, making you smile softly at him. You know your friends are worried that because you are dating a model, someone who is going to probably become more famous as time goes by, he will hurt you, or leave you, or simply do what most celebrities do with their partners. Mostly cheating.

“He does… I wouldn’t have said yes to him if I didn’t feel he was honest with me.” Argyle gave you a nod with a smile and then his eyebrows pinched slightly together again in worry and leaned forward to you.

“Alright, but he does hurt you and we’ll just murder him. You just have to say the words.” He says to you and you giggle, pushing him away by his shoulder, causing him to let out a chuckle of his own. 

“Couldn’t help but listen, but Argyle is right.” That voice made you jump as well as Argyle, turning your heads to see Jonathan with widened eyes at your reaction. 

“Muchacho give a fucking warning!” He was holding his chest from the fright and you just huffed with a giggle, looking at Jonathan with a smirk to your face.

“Aw, I thought you would be jealous, Johnny.” You say in a teasing tone and he rolls his eyes at you, followed by a chuckle and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side hug. 

“Oh yeah, terribly jealous.” You could feel him starting to do a choking move on your neck, making you laugh as you tried to wiggle away from his hold and he was just laughing now because of how much he was messing with you. He let you go and you fixed your hair, slapping his shoulder afterwards causing him to wince and hold the place where you hit him.

“You almost made me drop my beer, you ass.” You giggle again and you walk towards the balcony, finally letting the nerves of telling everyone disappear from your shoulders. You were afraid, really afraid of saying anything because last time you trusted people with something as important as this, you were stabbed in the back. But these friends, these people wouldn’t do that to you, they really wouldn’t, and what Argyle said stuck in your head.

They would fight for you.

You smile as you step out into the chill breeze blowing in the balcony, taking out your pack of cigarettes from your jacket and popping one in your mouth. You look for your lighter and you whine when you remember that you left it in your other coat. You groaned, ready to go back inside to get some matches but a lighter suddenly is in front of your face, a red one. You frown at it and look to your side, and your eyes almost bulge out of your skull as you see Eddie already standing right next to you.

“Jesus, don’t look at me like I’m about to murder you or something.” He is talking to you. Normally. He squints at how doubtful you look and he flicks the lighter in your face, lighting it, causing you to jump and snap your head towards it again. You blinked a few times and you put the cigarette in your mouth, leaning towards the flame and finally taking the first breath of smoke into your lungs. He pulled away from you and he put his own cigarette in his mouth, lighting his own. You pinched the filter with two of your fingers, letting the smoke out of your mouth.

“Thanks.” You say almost in a whisper as you look out towards the buildings and streets. You hear him hum in response and then his breath as he probably gets the smoke out of his lungs. 

“So Hargrove huh.” And shit, there it is. Your heart started racing already as your belly turned at the anticipation of what could happen, of the fight that might happen tonight.

“What about it?” You ask defensively and honestly, Eddie knew you were going to act this way towards him, but yet he sighed as he leaned forward, his forearms resting on the rail of the balcony as he looked forward.

“Just congratulations. I know it must be–” He shut his lips at what he was going to say. He knew he wasn’t on the friendship level to actually tell you that he finds you strong to finally trust someone in that way back into your life. You frowned when he stopped talking, and slowly your mind put the puzzle together. He must remember what you told him in the elevator.

“O-Oh… Yeah.” You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how your relationship is going to be, and you didn’t know if you would like or not the outcome of it. Before, the bantering was easy, nerve wrecking, but it was your daily… Now, it’s starting fresh, and you don’t know the Eddie that your other friends know, so you don’t know how to interact with him.

“Hmm…” He licked his lips, trying to think of his following words, because when the elevator had opened the doors for the both of you, he knew there were a lot of unsaid things he would have liked to say to you. “I want you to know that… I respect you. And I am really sorry for the way I’ve been treating you the past year. I hope you know that I really do mean that.” 

Your eyes widened again. He was apologizing. Again. So the relationship will really change from here on out because now you know that he won’t ever bother you with anything again. He won’t get in your nerves or under your skin. And you? You wouldn’t do that either because it is not fair. He probably would just accept every word you throw at him, and he wouldn’t respond. You looked out into the sky and you gave a small nod despite your confusion.

“I know.” Was your simple answer, and that was enough for Eddie. He lets out a sigh of relief as he takes a sip out of his beer at the same time you did, trying to fill in the silence, which was new to the both of you. He needed to lose the tension that was slowly building between the both of you, so he opened his mouth again.

“Also, I heard Argyle, and I have this hydraulic press in my shop…” He turned his head towards you, and you were frowning in confusion at his words, tilting your head to look at him.

“What is that?” You ask him, not really knowing what he was talking about.

“Well, in short words, it’s a machine that simply crushes stuff.” You were still confused at that until a smirk was drawn to his lips. “Even rocks, diamonds, metal… Skulls.” And at that you actually laughed, and you couldn’t believe he actually made that sound come out of your lips. It had always been sarcastic laughing, or a huff, or a scoff.

“So, you would commit murder for my sake.” You say as you take another swig of your nicotine stick, looking at him as he looks forward again into the sky.

“If he hurts you after what you went through? I think Robin would be my alibi.” You couldn’t help but feel mixed emotions at what he implied. First, you were happy that someone who hated you would now protect you that way, the other though…

“Eddie, I don’t want your pity. I really don’t need it.” You say to him with no venom or bitterness in your tongue, just a frown on your eyebrows which made him look at you as he shook his head wildly.

“No, it’s not pity. Like I said, I respect you, and I–” He didn’t want to tell you that he feels the need to protect you now. It happens with his friends, all the time, but you weren’t one, not yet. The need to protect people that are in his circle is unavoidable to him. “I want you to know that I don’t hate you.”

“So you would commit murder for me to prove that point.” You say, now in a joking manner which caught him by surprise, looking at you with a squint of his eyes.

“Who says I didn’t prove points that way before?” He says to you and your eyes widen at that, making his smirk turn into a soft smile that you couldn’t help but stare and your heart felt happy at seeing that. That smile that was always towards your friends, but never to you. 

“Why am I not surprised?” This bantering between the two of you was without spite, without anger, without the need of one upping one another. It was pure and fun.

“Do I look like a murderer, like in the daily?” He asks feigning curiosity as he takes a puff out of his cigarette while you take a sip of your beer with a shrug.

“I think it’s the frown that’s always in the middle of your forehead, which by the way, you will get wrinkles.” You reply and he lets out a chuckle at your response, shaking his head at you. 

“Good to know, I guess now I know why people stay away from me.” You were amazed by this interaction and also a bit scared because it was too natural. It was way too fucking natural. You were about to talk when the sound of a message rang on his phone, making him frown, walking towards a small table that was in the balcony and setting the beer down to take his phone out with his free hand. You tilted your head as he chuckled at his screen, shaking his head and returning next to you. 

You now realize just how large his hands are. He could grab his phone with just one and write with his thumb. You have to hold it with both hands and use both your thumbs to write properly. He was smiling down at his phone and then you see him taking a picture out to the city, making you frown in confusion.

“Why are you taking a picture?” You ask out of curiosity and you feel your cheeks flush at how invasive that question actually is. Why would you need to meddle on his conversation? 

“Oh, it’s for my uncle.” He replies to you and you stare at him for a second, noticing that when he clicked send and put his phone back in his pocket, his smile turned somber, almost sad as he retrieved his beer to stand next to you again, taking a long breath out of his cigarette finally finishing it, which reminded you of taking the last puff too, throwing it out towards the street.

For some reason, you didn’t want the conversation to be over, but the finishing of your nicotine sticks was the clock ticking for the both of you. The cigarettes are done, so the need to be on the balcony is no longer necessary, meaning you have to go back inside. You licked your lips and you took a sip of your beer before taking out another cigarette out of your pack. Eddie noticed and he couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on his lips as he too took another one and in a short minute, you were both puffing smoke into the air again. 

“Your uncle?” You ask and he finds it reasonable to share his story just like you did for him. It was just the fair thing to do.

“My uncle is the person who raised me, basically my father. My parents didn’t want me, all that shit, he took me in.” Your heart broke at that, and you couldn’t help but remember all the responses you did to him in the past. 

‘Did Mommy and Daddy not give you enough love as a child Munson? Is that why you’re such a douchebag?’

You remember saying that to him when the group went out to a club and he had gotten into a fight, for god knows what, and you all had to call it quits for the night and go home. So of course you were pissed, and outside the club you started yelling at him for being careless and ruining the night for everyone, but he had, yet again, say that you needed to have an actual orgasm once in a while. So you snapped at him.

“Shit, Eddie–”

“Don’t, it’s fine really. It’s in the past.” It was as if he could read your mind, and that made you realize that it was something that he probably thought about when he went home that night, or maybe he thought about it many times after, not helping with the guilt and the hole that was forming in your chest. “I send him these pictures because he cannot go out that much lately, so I always try to send him pictures of the sky, or the city.”

“Why hasn’t he gone out lately?” You ask, once again being too intrusive with your question which made you cringe and shake your head. “You don’t have to answer that– I’m intruding way too mu–”

“He was diagnosed with cancer almost a year ago… Lung cancer.” He shortly replies to you and you feel your blood go cold at the news. That meant that Eddie might lose him at any moment… You couldn’t help it and looked away from him so he wouldn’t see the burning in your eyes at that. You felt shitty, you felt so fucking shitty. You were both hurting inside and you just snapped at one another as if it were a competition. 

“I’m… so sorry.” And you meant that in so many ways. You also had to apologize to him, because it was not fair if you didn’t. You had treated him like shit as equally as he did to you, and you were just now seeing it, but because you now know about him. It feels so stupid, hating one another when you probably could have been friends that could talk about all of this, and probably be there for one another instead of against.

“It’s okay Peach. Really.” It wasn’t okay, it wasn’t okay at all, but he wasn’t going to break down about it right now. He knew his hand was trembling when he took a puff out of his cigarette, and he took a deep one to calm himself down again. You took one too, as long as he did and finally turned back to face him once you felt your eyes not burning anymore. 

“Why aren’t you there with him? Is he in Hawkins?” He nods at that, taking a sip out of his beer.

“Because opening a shop there wouldn’t have given me money. I saved up, bought the shop here as soon as we arrived with everyone else, and not even a month later he was diagnosed… I stay here to get as much money as I can to pay for his medical bills and shit.” It was for a split of a moment, but there was a slight break in his voice. You couldn’t help but feel the hole in your stomach dig deeper and deeper, flashes of how badly you had treated him, and it might have happened at a night where he talked to his uncle, or a day where he had sent the money for the bills.

“And do you visit him?” You ask him because you know that Hawkins is just a few hours away and he nods just once at you to then take another swig out of his beer.

“I do, whenever I have time. He has a caretaker at home, so that’s good.” You give him a nod to take another puff out of your cigarette, not really knowing where to go with this conversation, but there was a feeling inside of you that you felt like he had to know.

“Thank you… for confiding this with me.” He shrugged at you, trying to push the negative feelings out of his head as he turned to you with a soft smile on his face.

“We are just finally getting to know each other.” You were stunned at his words and the cigarettes were gone again. You both threw them towards the street again, and you looked down to the floor and then back at him, pressing your hip against the rail to fully face him, taking a sip of your beer to then cross your arms over your chest.

“Normally you ask about favorite things or music, or movies, not telling each other traumatic pasts or stories in the first conversation.” His eyes widened at that and he finally let out a laugh at your words, copying your stance to face you, crossing his arms over his chest as well. 

“You may have a point, so let’s be normal. Favorite color.” He asks and you squint your eyes at him.

“Guess.” He widens his eyes at that, making you giggle softly.

“Oh so it’s like that… Okay. Pink.” You shake your head at him and he frowns at that. “Oh come on, Peach’s dress is pink.” 

“Just because I choose Princess Peach in Mario Kart doesn’t mean I like pink, Munson.” You reply to him and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Back to surname basis…” He looked at you, and you raised an eyebrow up at him as you saw his eyes roaming your body, to then scoff and look up at your face again. “Lilac.” Your eyes widened at that, completely surprised.

“How did you know?” 

“Your smart watch has that color on its bands.” You were amazed by how perceptive he was being. “Your turn.” 

“Black.” He rolled his eyes at that and it made you smile with triumph.

“Easy one.” He made a gesture towards his whole body. Black shirt, opaque black pants, a leather jacket. You nodded with a giggle, taking a sip out of your beer.

“Okay… Favorite band…” You squint your eyes at him and he raised an eyebrow up at you. You know he listens to metal, and your expertise in that area was very slim, but it must be one of the main bands. “Black Sabbath.” He winces at that and then shakes his head.

“No darling. Not that one. Try again.” You blinked at that, your brain trying to look for more bands and you saw him move his hand, three fingers going up. The index, middle and ring finger. He then pointed them down, forming the letter M. You gasped and you snapped a finger at him.

“Metallica!” He threw his head back at your reaction, a laugh escaping his lips to then come back to face you and nodding his head.

“Yeah, that’s it.” You raised an eyebrow towards him, waiting for his guess now. “Mmm… Do you even have a favorite band? Or is it a solo person?” 

“You caught me there. It’s a solo person.” 

And that’s how the night was filled now. The both of you in the balcony, getting to know one another, your favorite foods, your favorite places, your favorite holiday, your favorite desserts, your favorite movie, your favorite tv series. You also found out about what you both hate. You dislike Hot Dogs. Eddie hates pineapple pizza, despite Robin always ordering it. You hate broccoli with your life. Eddie hates spinach. You hate olives. He loves olives. 

Your friends were all looking at the both of you, who had disappeared for over an hour, and they couldn’t believe their eyes when you two were laughing with eachother instead of trying to murder or take one’s head off. They looked at each other, wondering if they should interrupt to check if everything was okay, but it did seem like it, so they didn’t bother you both, even if the new relationship was shocking to them.

“You think they will become friends?” Robin asks Nancy, making the other girl jump slightly as a blush spreads around her cheeks from how close Robin was on her ear.

“M-Maybe, hard to guess.” She replied to her, which only made Robin hum at that. Of course, she did notice how her friend’s ears blushed slightly, which made Robin smirk. She could continue the conversation a little longer.

Outside on the balcony again, Eddie was telling you about one time that Steve had smoked a joint with him, one of his first times, and it was making you double over in laughter. He pulled his phone out to show you the video which was saved to his story highlights on Instagram.

“It’s just Marijuana dad!” You heard Steve say as Eddie chuckled behind the camera. Steve was sprawled over the floor as Eddie tried to get him up, but the brown haired boy was still spouting nonsense out of his mouth. 

“He never smoked a joint again.” He finishes saying and your giggle slowly dies out as you stare at his phone. Maybe you could ask? Maybe it wouldn’t be too weird? Maybe now it might be a good time to do so? You were about to talk when you both heard some commotion back inside the room, making your heads snap towards the sliding door. You both rushed towards it to see what happened and you saw Nancy on the floor, with a red face, and a smirk on Robin’s as she tried to help Nancy back up. 

“Robin, what did you do to Nancy, jesus christ.” You hear Eddie curse and you couldn’t help but giggle as he stepped back inside to check on Nancy. You walked in too, looking at Steve who was trying to hold his laughter in.

“Did Robin flirt with her?” At that Steve nodded wildly, finally letting out a laugh. You giggled as you saw Eddie steading Nancy back on her feet, but deep inside you, you felt happy that Robin was finally moving on from Vickie. You saw Eddie walk towards the hallway, probably heading to the bathroom.

A ping on your phone caught your attention after a minute, and you grabbed it out of your pocket to look down at the screen. There was a feeling inside of you, like a sense of resolution, of closure, of warmth as a smile spread on your cheeks, almost painfully.

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End of chapter 11

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A/N: We're on the friends area of their relationship! Woo!

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[upsidedownwithsteve]

Hi! Sorry if I'm double dipping here, but can I PLEASE request going down on camp Eddie for the first time? They're just so infatuated and so in love and I know he'd be just totally in awe of Michigan 🫠🫠🫠

oh cheeky

18+

It was bold of you, that was for sure.

But the last week of camp was a busy mess of games, tears and helping kids pack. The summer was at its warmest, afternoons spent by the lake with kayaks and too many bottles of sunscreen, zipping kids into life jackets and trying not to stare at Eddie when he took his shirt off, running down the dock with Steve to cannonball into the water.

He grabbed you after he emerged, soaking wet, curls dripping, silver chain glittering in the sun. He was more tanned than the beginning of camp, July making sure he was sunkissed and all freckled, rosy cheeks and sunburned nose. You let him pull you into him until the kids squealed and yelled, dodging his incoming kiss for the sake of your audience, your face too warm when he grinned and laughed.

It didn’t stop you staring at him for the rest of the day though, hooded eyes and lips all red from how you’d chewed at them, restless and itching to get the boy alone. And it certainly didn’t stop you from catching him after dinner, a rushed goodbye waved to Jonathan and Chrissy as you excused yourselves and grabbed the boy by the hand, ignoring his questions of “where are you taking me, woman?”

Your cabin was too far. Eddie’s was filled with Steve and Hawkins, and god, you really didn’t have the patience to try to find Eddie’s van in the dark. So you dragged him behind the gym, derelict and hidden by the shadows the late evening brought, the sun lining the sky with red and pink at the lowest point of the horizon.

Just barely enough light left for you to not trip over the logs and forgotten beer bottles that littered the back of the huge building. You pushed Eddie against the wall, corrugated metal vibrating with the force of it and Eddie grunted, barely able to ask what was going on before you were on him.

Hungry, impatient, a different kind of kiss than you’d shared before and Eddie let you do what you pleased, groaning wildly into your mouth as you rugged at his hair so he’d bend down for you. His hands snuck their way up the sides of your staff shirt, wide and warm, fingers spanning the dips between your ribs, thumbs rubbing circles under your breasts.

You were making little noises for him, needy sounds that were driving him insane and when you pulled back to let you both suck in a breath, Eddie’s chest was heaving and his eyes were wide.

“Not that I’m complaining, like, at all,” Eddie rasped, hands still kneading the dough of your hips, making sure you didn’t stray too far from him. “But what did I do to deserve this?”

You grinned, a bright, pretty look on your face and Eddie would have sworn he saw some kind of determination set in. You shrugged, too casual. “I dunno, I just missed you today.”

Eddie smiled, eyes soft and fond on you. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat and shit, you wanted to nip at it, get your mouth on every part of him. “Yeah? Fuck, you’re too sweet—”

You dropped to your knees.

“Oh fuck, shitshitshit, babe, Jesus, I—” Eddie had never suffered from heart problems but he was pretty fucking sure this is what cardiac arrest felt like. “What’re you doing?” He stammered it out, voice shot, cracking in the middle and you huffed out a soft laugh, ‘cause wasn’t it obvious?

“I was gonna show you how much I’d missed you,” you explained, letting your hands press gently to his hips. They bucked under your touch and you bit down on a smile. “But I don’t have to, if you don’t want me to.”

Eddie had taken care of you in his cabin and you’d yet to really return the favour, barely any spare time being able to be stolen. You really wanted to return the favour. You smiled up at him, soft, patient, fingers running gently over the waistband of his jeans, nails tapping on the metal button.

“Shit, you don’t have to,” Eddie swallowed audibly, and he didn’t seem to know if he wanted to keep staring down at you on your knees for him, or let his head drop back onto the gym wall. “S’okay, I don’t need— fuck, I’m not expecting—”

You leaned in, hand hitching up the hem of his camp shirt so you could press a kiss to his hip bone, admiring the trail of hair across his tummy, the lines of muscles and soft skin there. “I want to,” you told him simply. “Can I?”

You waited, fingers curling over the button, eyes on Eddie’s and he looked pink in the cheeks, flushed and already fucked out, brown eyes darker in the shadows. He nodded, let out a weak noise that sounded like your name and a moan mixed into one.

He lost it when you got your mouth on him, the soft heat of your lips and tongue making his head fall back and drop to the wall and with a thud. You looked up through your lashes, watching the way his jaw tensed before falling slack, neck bared and eyes clenched shut. His hand were white knuckled fists by his side and you took one palm off his thigh so you could guide his to your hair.

Eddie looked down then, fingers curling into your stands, loose enough that he wasn’t pulling, only holding and he whined, a desperate sound that came from the back of his throat and had you clenched your thighs together.

“Christ, oh fuck, oh fucking hell,” he was babbling, staring down at you with glazed over eyes and lips that were parted, breathing heaving out of him in heavy puffs. “Look at you, you’re unreal, how’d I get so lucky? Huh? Jesus Christ, your mouth, baby, shit.”

You curled your tongue around his head and sucked, making him groan something filthy and you pulled off of his cock with a dirty pop, only to grin and shush him, hands pinching at his thigh. “Teddy, you gotta be quiet,” you laughed.

“Awh, god, no—” his knees almost buckled when you wrapped your lips back around him, his cock hard and slick with your spit, doing your best to take every inch of him. “Don’t call me Teddy when you’re doing that, fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

You hummed at his words, hand gripping his thigh tight as you wiggled closer, the tip of his cock nudging the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, smug.

He was done, gone, dead, weak. He cried out, hands gripping your hair a little tighter than before, his expression one of bliss and absolute amazement. “Holy fuck,” he declared, still too loud, “you actually want to kill me.”

….

[loveinhawkins]

Part 1 Part 2

The rain comes on heavier as Eddie starts up Steve’s car, drives away. Dustin shuts the van door and glances over his shoulder to see Steve stretching out along the couple of seats in the back that Eddie usually reserves for his guitars. It doesn’t even look like Steve wants to be lying down, more that his body is just demanding to be horizontal.

Dustin sits down right on the floor, his head by Steve’s feet. Steve shuffles with a grunt, making room for him on the seats, but Dustin doesn’t take up the offer.

“Your ass is gonna go numb,” Steve says tiredly.

“No it won’t.”

Steve gives an exhausted kind of snort. “Uh, yeah it will,” he says—in that affected drawl he loves to use whenever he decides to contradict Dustin for the stupidest of reasons.

Dustin rolls his eyes. He’s about to tell Steve to shut up, but then he hears Steve sucking in deliberate breaths, holding them with clenched teeth. It kind of reminds him of when someone tries to cure their own hiccups, but he at least knows that’s not the case here.

“G,” Dustin declares.

Steve sighs. “Oh, fuck you. Um…”

His breathing evens out a bit as he thinks. It’s a recurring game they’ve got: shouting out a random letter and seeing if the other person can name a movie in ten seconds or less. Lately, Steve’s taken to smugly saying a letter just as Dustin takes a large bite of food, which Dustin calls “cheating” and Steve calls “strategy.”

“Ghostbusters,” Steve says with a little smirk.

“Acceptable,” Dustin concedes.

“Hey, remember your Halloween costume?” Steve says, sitting up a little on his elbows; his smile turns more fond than teasing. “Your mom kept showing me the pictures for months.” He looks off into the distance for a moment, like he’s seeing them all over again. He blinks, then says, “You were tiny, Henderson.”

It’s not said condescendingly, not in the syrupy kind of way that some distant family friends would mean it. More like he’s just bewildered by the passing of time.

So Dustin doesn’t grumble at the remark. Instead he says, “Mom’s out of town tonight.”

“Christmas shopping?” Steve asks.

“Nope.” Dustin tilts his head, raising his eyebrows. “Cousin Marlene.”

When Steve just looks blankly at him, Dustin huffs. “Come on, seriously? Didn’t I tell you?”

“Last thing you told me was her perm went wrong.”

“Oh,” Dustin says, mollified. “Okay, you’re missing an update. Henry’s cheating on her.”

“God, she can’t catch a break. Who’s the—”

But Dustin’s already doing a drum roll on his knees. “Julie.”

Steve sits up a little more, gapes. “No. Is that the one who—?”

“The leader of the PTA!”

Steve clicks his fingers. “See, I told you, I told you, she was bad news.”

“Yeah, it’s a mess.”

Steve lies back down, one hand behind his head. “Tell me?” His eyes shut for a moment, and when they open, his lids look heavy.

Dustin gets up to the third phone call Cousin Marlene had made when Steve’s eyes don’t open again. It seems completely involuntary, the frown he still wears in his sleep betraying his discomfort. It makes Dustin think of whenever he was sent home sick from school, dragged down into a restless sleep that just made his head pound afterwards.

There’s the sound of a car pulling up. Dustin moves to sit in the passenger seat, looks through the window and sees Eddie jumping out of a Chevy. He gives a very polite wave that in another circumstance, Dustin would find hilarious. The car drives off again.

When Eddie sees Steve sleeping in the back, he lets out a soft, “Oh,” and shuts the door as quietly as he can. He hesitates in starting up the engine, whispers, “I don’t wanna wake him.” When he does turn onto the road, Dustin feels like it’s the smoothest he’s ever seen him drive.

“Didn’t spook your ride too bad?” Dustin asks in an undertone.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up. “Yeah, hopefully not. Nice lady. Apparently Steve feeds her cat when she’s on vacation.” He glances at the rearview mirror. His voice lowers even more when he says, “How was he?”

Dustin pauses. He looks back at Steve—still asleep, occasionally half-mouthing words he can’t hope to decipher.

“I… I don’t know what was…” Dustin sighs, feels useless again. “Eddie, he was crying.”

Eddie clicks his tongue unhappily. He pulls up to Steve’s driveway, stops a little distance away from where Steve’s car is already parked.

Eddie cuts the engine. Steve doesn’t stir. The rain, if possible, gets even heavier.

Eddie looks out at the house, deep in thought. “Spare key still under the mat?”

Dustin shrugs. “Should be.”

Another pause. Eddie nods. “Okay, I’m gonna—get a change of clothes for him, and then we can, uh, figure out what to—”

But when he opens the door, Steve sits up with a gasp.

Eddie twists in his seat. “Woah, hey, you’re—”

“Thanks for the ride,” Steve bites out, and he shoves past them both without another word, steps out into the rain.

“Hey, wait a second,” Eddie says, and Dustin can tell that he’s trying to sound calm and just missing the mark; the words come out too quickly, too frantic.

But the panic tugs at Dustin, too; he watches as Steve heads into the house, and can’t help but feel that he’s watching something slip away.

It frightens him.

He darts around Eddie, the soles of his sneakers smacking on the wet driveway. He runs, can hear Eddie calling after him.

“Dustin, wait!”

But he ignores him, flying through the front door, then suddenly feels Eddie’s arm cutting across, blocking his path forward.

He’s about to complain, to push him away.

But then he sees the glass on the floor.

The hallway is a mess: there’s a clear vase broken into pieces; on a long, wooden table, the phone lies off the hook—even more than that, the handset is cracked in several places. Dustin can see dents in the table from where the phone must’ve been smashed against it; he can picture it, suddenly, even though he’s never seen such a thing, never known Steve to lose control like that. Can see him bringing the phone down again and again…

A crunch of glass underfoot as Eddie moves in front of him. Eddie carefully kicks a few shards to the side. He looks behind him, catches Dustin’s eye and says, “Careful.”

They cautiously move through the hallway into the kitchen. Dustin lets Eddie take the lead—finds himself caught short in the doorway at the sight of Steve standing in the kitchen, both hands braced against the counter, head bowed.

Eddie stops a couple of steps away from him. “Steve. Hey. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Steve says. He raises his head and turns to Eddie, one hand still gripping the counter, almost like he needs something to keep himself standing. “Phone lines are down here, think a tree fell or something. It’s really nothing.”

“Steve,” Eddie says simply, in a tone that clearly means it’s not nothing.

But Steve looks over at Dustin, addresses him. “It’s fine. I’m—you can go, seriously. Just… I’m fine.”

Dustin doesn’t know what to say.

Eddie takes another step forward. “Steve,” he repeats.

“Please,” Steve says. His voice is breaking. “Please just leave it alone.”

Silence.

“I can’t do that,” Eddie says, like it’s destroying him to say it.

Steve moves forward now, and he shoves Eddie back with both hands—and Dustin has seen Steve in a fight, has seen him be mean, and this is none of those things. It’s something desperate and afraid.

“Why not?” Steve breathes. He pushes again, but it hardly even jostles Eddie, Steve’s strength wavering. “Why not?”

“Because,” Eddie whispers, and he pulls Steve’s hands off his jacket and just holds onto them. “I care about you.”

Steve’s face crumples. For a split second, Dustin worries that he’ll pull away, but then he falls against Eddie, and Eddie holds him up as he quietly starts to cry.

“This is so,” Steve chokes, breathes raggedly, “so fucking stupid.”

He keeps repeating it, so fucking stupid, over and over.

“No,” Eddie says. He sways just a little, one hand stroking through Steve’s hair, right down to the back of his neck. “Shh. You’re okay, oh, you’re okay.”

Dustin steps further into the room. He wants to somehow find something that can make this all better—knows there’s more to be fixed than a broken phone. “You’ve gotta get out of this house,” Eddie murmurs, lips almost touching Steve’s temple. “Okay? How about…”

But he trails off, and Dustin knows that he was about to suggest that Steve stay at his—can already tell, from the way that Steve tenses near imperceptibly, that the suggestion would create a stalemate.

Dustin can read it in Steve’s hunched shoulders that if Eddie offers his place, to Steve it’ll feel like he’s imposing or some bullshit like that; he’ll dig his heels in, facing another night alone and…

Eddie bites down hard on his lip again; Dustin can practically hear his panicked train of thought.

And now he knows what to do.

“Stay at mine,” he says, and both Steve and Eddie look over at him. “Mom says I need “adult supervision” if I’m home alone, but you’ll do, I guess.”

It’s technically the truth, apart from the fact that Dustin had planned to have a sleepover with Lucas tonight, but well. Details.

Eddie’s eyes are shining with gratitude.

“A thankless job, huh?” he says, gently nudging Steve. “But I guess someone’s gotta do it.”

Steve exhales. His eyes meet Dustin’s before darting away, and Dustin hates that he looks ashamed.

“Okay,” Steve says.