#eddie is hopelessly in love with him

[hairmetal666]

Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.

He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.

He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.

They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.

"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.

"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"

He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.

"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.

"Had a show?"

"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.

Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.

"Don't--"

"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.

"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"

"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.

"Like you ever could."

Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.

"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"

Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.

Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"

The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.

--

When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.

They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.

Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.

--

In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.

Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"

"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Steve."

"Robin."

They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"

"I don't want either of you to get hurt."

Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."

"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"

He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."

And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.

Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.

They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.

As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.

Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.

But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.

He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.

--

They aren't as close after that.

Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.

Until Eddie stops returning his calls.

He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.

"Steve? What are you--"

"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"

Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."

He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.

"Eddie, I--"

"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"

Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.

"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.

He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.

The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.

The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.

It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.

--

Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.

It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.

"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.

"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"

"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."

Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."

"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"

"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."

"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."

"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."

Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.

They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.

"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."

[steveshairychest]

I can just imagine Eddie talking to Steve and teasing him about how everyone had a crush on him in highschool and then accidentally being like, "I used to have a crush on you for ages it was so funny." And Steve just standing there in shock bcs he has secretly been crushing on Eddie for weeks and he just keeps replaying the 'used to have a crush on you' part over and over, thinking that Eddie doesn't like him anymore.

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

eddie fights to get his usually shy and moderately intoxicated girlfriend to bed when you insist on clinging to him at every turn. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k.

cw intoxicated reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're holding onto Eddie's arm tight enough to leave little fingerprint bruises behind. He doesn't think he'd mind, and he doesn't try to slacken your grip as he helps you up the stairs into the trailer. 

"Do we have to be quiet?" you whisper. Or, attempt to whisper. 

"Nah, Wayne's working." He closes the door behind you and leans over your shoulder to put his car keys in the bowl on the sideboard. "Oh, hey." 

You've given up on clinging to his arm and have started cuddling his waist instead. Eddie feels his eyes go wide, peering down at you almost like he's worried you'll realise you're being bold and move away. You rub your cheek against his leather jacket and sigh. "I love your hugs," you say dreamily, words slurred but understandable.

This isn't news to him, but it's definitely nothing you've said aloud before. Eddie's your boyfriend, he knows you enjoy a warm hug, but he's your new-ish boyfriend, and you're one of the shyest people he's ever met. Half the time he kisses you and your cheeks catch fire. 

"Yeah?" he asks fondly. 

You break the hug quicker than he'd like and bend at the waist. Laughing unsurely, you attempt to untie your shoelaces, wobbling like a cardboard house in a hurricane. Eddie catches onto your shoulders to hold you up, but you can't last. 

You make a strange sound, indignation and admission at once, and put your hands behind you to sit down. You go down hard enough to make the kitchenette shake, trailer walls not especially durable. 

"Shit, are you okay?" he asks, kneeling down in front of you. 

You blink at him glassily. "Will you take my shoes off, please?" 

"Yeah," he says. He laughs and tries not to. "Yeah, I'll take your shoes off for you. Pass em over." 

You put one of your feet on top of his knees clumsily. Eddie unties the bunny knots you'd made earlier, neat and tidy, not wanting anyone to judge you for messy laces, you'd said. 

He slides your shoes off and gives your toes a squeeze. Sober you would blow a gasket, shuffling away from him with a flustered squeak, but drunk you must like it. You leave your foot on his thigh and offer him the other shoe. 

"Do you like my socks?" 

Eddie digs his nail into the second bunny knot. "I love them. Why, are they new?" 

Your socks are normal white crew socks with a black hem stripe, black toes, and black heels. You hum at his observation appreciatively, your hand straying to your stomach. "And my underwear, too." 

"How much did you have to drink while I was in the bathroom?" he asks. Eddie's seen you in your underwear, but it's still unlike you to allude to your skivvies while fully dressed. 

"Not much. Why?" 

"It's not like you to talk about underwear," he tells you, sliding off your shoe and giving your foot a squeeze just as he had the first time, thumb digging into the sole. 

You giggle and yank your legs up and away from him. "That tickles." 

"Sorry, sweetheart." 

"It's okay. I forgive you, duh." 

He laughs, thrilled to see you this adorable and this beamingly happy. He can make you smile like no one else, and of course you're not always shy when you're with him, but it takes time. Eddie wouldn't change you for anything, it's just a real nice thing to see you so proudly happy. 

And hopelessly drunk. You lay on the floor of your side for a moment, jeans riding up your calves as you curl in on yourself, your jacket falling off your shoulder. 

Eddie crawls to your side. He indulges himself, sliding his hand between your cheek and the floor to lift your head. You meet his eyes dozily, sparks of happiness to be seen in your dilated pupils and the apples of your cheeks as you smile at him. 

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks. 

"You–" you begin, not sure where you're ending, "I missed you." 

"You missed me?" You're loaded. "Don't worry about missing me, sweetheart, I'm right here. Can I ask you for something?" 

You nod hurriedly. "Of course you can," you breathe. 

"Will you help me get to bed?" 

You reach for his elbow, your hand coasting up the length of his arm to his shoulder. "Stay here," you say. You're pleading with him, eyebrows drawing together, fingers screwing up in the folds of his jacket. 

"You'll be comfier on my lumpy mattress than you are on the floor, trust me." 

"I'm tired," you say. 

"Come to bed with me," he says softly, mirroring your tone. 

"And we'll have a hug?" 

Holy fucking shit, Eddie's fucked. He thinks, I'm gonna marry this girl, cheeks aching with the effort it takes to keep his huge smile at bay as he helps you sit up. 

"I'll give you as many hugs as you want," he says, brokering a deal with you right there on the floor. 

You agree to his terms, holding your hands out to be pulled up. Eddie stands and pulls you, and you do your part, attempting to stand with a wobble as you go, but he's right there to catch you. Thus begins another round of clinging, your fingers braceleting his wrist, your hips on his. 

Eddie leads you down the hallway. It takes longer than it should, what with your face in his neck and your less than subtle sniffing. He smells better than you do, your shirt soaked with what could be craft beer but might just be a half a cup of cider, neither of which he pictures you drinking. 

"Who tipped their drink on?" he asks, pushing the bedroom door open with his elbow. 

"What?" you ask, lifting your head from his neck. He looks down at you briefly. 

"What happened? You have beer all down your shirt, babe. Did someone tip their drink on you?" 

"Robin did, she said to tell you it was Steve." You raise a hand to his cheek. It's cold, and it smells like your moisturiser. "But I don't keep secrets from you." 

He doesn't mean to melt under your touch. He has things he should be doing, depositing you in the bed, changing your shirt, tucking you in for the night with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol for your perusal in the morning, but it's a startling delight to have you stroking his cheek. You usually only do this when he's half asleep or you're very tired; hoping he'll forget, maybe, and forgetting your own inhibitions. 

"You don't?" he asks gently. 

Your fingertips slip from the soft part of his cheek up to his eyelashes. You don't touch them, breathing out the side of your mouth rather than in his face. Drunk but not enough to stop treating him with care. 

"No… except for last Friday when we went to the Hawk. I really did need to use the bathroom." 

Well, Eddie knew that. You're shy, that doesn't make you a good actress. "And now we have no secrets," he says, covering your hand on his cheek. 

Your eyes slip closed a touch. Eddie doesn't really believe himself, he's sure there's lots of stuff you don't tell him. He guesses when you need something to drink because you hate asking, and he can't work out whether you like hotdogs or if you're just humouring him when he makes them, but he thinks any secret worth having is one you've let him in on. 

He puts you on the end of the bed. 

"Can I help you get changed?" he asks, already turning for the wardrobe where he keeps your left behind pyjamas and miscellaneous clothes, washed and pressed and waiting for you the next time you come around. 

"You haven't asked if you can undress me in ages." 

He laughs like an idiot, scooping an oversized t-shirt and a pair of your pyjama pants into his arms. "Now, that's not true. I always ask, but half the time you're already getting there." He turns to you, finds you've disappeared into your shirt, elbow twisted into the bottom and arms slack. "Like that," he laughs. 

"Stuck," you mumble. 

He chucks your pyjamas down and slips his fingers under your shirt where it's folded at the top of your shoulders. "Lift your arms, sweetheart. There you go." 

He laughs again when he sees your rumpled hair and face, dropping your acidic smelling shirt on the floor. "There she is. Hey, gorgeous," Eddie teases, running the side of his hand down your cheek quickly. "Bra on or off?" 

"Can I have my shirt first, please?" you ask.

He loves you. Your shyness creeping back in despite his having seen it all before is endearing, and he wouldn't ever say no to you. "Of course you can. Do you need my help again?" 

"I think this part will be easier." 

You're right about that. You get your shirt on easily enough, unclipping your bra without help. Nor do you need help with your pants. 

Eddie strips off quickly, swapping jeans for plaid pants and his t-shirt for a ribbed undershirt. He stretches out day long aches and kicks aside your dirty clothes on his way to the light switch, flicking it off, only his lamp left on now. 

You look lovely. Makeup smudged, watching him move around his small room with your face propped heavily in your hand, a practically cherubic smile playing on your lips. 

He pulls back the sheets and grabs you by the waist, lifting you very slightly to encourage you up against the pillows. You look at him like he's a wonder, adoration softening each line of your features. Your lips part slightly, your eyebrows rise upward. 

He thinks it might be really special, to be looked at as you look at him. 

"Let me get you a glass of water," he says. 

Neither of you have managed to brush your teeth. Honestly, he doesn't think you can stand up any more to try. Water will have to do. 

"No!" you say, louder than you've likely ever spoken to him when he isn't tickling you. "You said we'd hug." 

"We will," he says, giving your hand a little shake where it clings to his. 

"Please, Eddie, I just want to cuddle with you," you confess, giving him the best case of the puppy dogs he's ever seen. 

Eddie thinks, Whatever, we'll just have to make sure we brush extra hard in the morning. He can't deny you any longer. He didn't stand a chance. 

He climbs over your legs and you tuck him in affectionately, ramming your forehead into his chest and throwing your arm around his waist with less care. You nuzzle in, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you get comfortable. 

"This is so nice," you praise, words sluggish, slurred even more than they were as fatigue weighs you down. 

"This is perfect," he agrees, easing as flat as he can onto his back, nothing for his arms to do now but wrap around you and hold you close. 

You sigh again. It's even happier than the first, your leg creeping up as you hook your knee over his hip. "I love you, Munson. Thanks for…" You yawn and rub your nose into his chest. "Thank you. I love you." 

"You told me twice," he says, lifting his head to give you a teeny tiny kiss on your temple. 

"It was true for both of the times," you mumble. 

Despite relaxing atop him, your arms are like a vice. He doesn't care, he really couldn't care less, 'cos if you weren't hugging him like this he'd be hugging you tighter. Eddie speaks against your skin tenderly, "I love you, too," he murmurs, sealing it with a punctuating kiss.

He rubs your shoulder, feels your arms give him one final squeeze. 

"Is now a bad time to mention I need the bathroom?" he asks. 

Your answering snore tickles his chest.

—

"Eddie." 

Eddie scrunches his face up. You look down at him, flustered, wondering if it would be better for you to run out on him and never see him again. He groans as he wakes, turning his head and distorting the stain of your lipgloss smudged the length of his neck. 

You nibble the inside of your lip. He doesn't seem particularly annoyed with you. But he is mostly asleep. 

"Eddie, how did we get home last night?" you ask, rubbing between your eyebrows. "You didn't drive, did you?" 

He'd had two beers, which wasn't too much for him to handle but is more than anyone should have if they want to drive themselves home. 

Eddie peels his eyes open. "Steve drove us."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I'm super embarrassed. I got kinda wasted, huh?" 

Eddie's hands slip under your shirt to wrap around your soft stomach. He pulls you in an attempt to make you lay down again. 

"You were very drunk," he agrees, yawning into your ribs. 

You put your hand on the other side of his head to hold yourself up. "Was I a handful?" you ask softly, brushing his bangs away from his eyes.

He smiles against your shirt. You feel the curve of his lips, goosebumps erupting underneath it. Shy, you gasp quietly and try to escape his hold, but he hugs you ever tighter, snuggling into your chest. 

"You were great. I missed sober you, though." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. Drunk you doesn't get goosebumps when I touch her." Smugness colours his voice, his hand rubbing up and down your naked back roughly to chase away your shivers. 

"I wasn't weird, was I?" you worry, more than alarmed by the gap in your memory. 

"You told me all about your new underwear," —you groan— "and how badly you needed to pee at the Hawk." 

You drop your head on to his, your foreheads touching, your hand curling around his neck. "Did I do anything vaguely in the land of acceptable behaviour?" you mumble in defeat.

"You told me you loved me. Multiple times. Once in your sleep." Eddie sounds delighted.

"That's unfontunately true," you grumble, not really meaning it. 

He laughs and gives you a firm tug. "Cuddle with me, babe." 

You cuddle him if only to hide your face from the world, face in his hair, hands under his back. Eddie draws a path of fondness up and down the dip of your back, laughing at each new crop of goosebumps as they rise. He's sweet enough to let you forget the mess you've made for at least a few stolen hours that morning. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed, please reblog if you have the time it makes a huge difference for me ♡

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

"I'll see you guys later!" Eddie calls, his hips wiggling as he fake jogs to the door. Steve holds his hand up after him, Robin waves her whole arm at him, not looking away from the stove. Steve stares after him as he disappears, he hears the door open and click closed.

"You've got that dopey look on your face again." Robin says, crossing her arms and resting against the counter as she watches him. Steve turns to her, avoids her eyes and watches the steam rise from the bowl of Ramen on the countertop.

"Shut up." He grumbles.

"Just sayin. Your eyes get all shiny and your mouth literally hangs open sometimes... it's... ridiculous." She shakes her head but she looks... sad? Steve hates when she looks at him like that.

"Well-" he stops, takes a deep breath. Robin's lip twitches.

"Let it out babe. You'll feel better." She holds her hand out, twitches her fingers encouragingly.

Steve grimaces, runs his hands over his face and then jumps off the stool to his feet.

"It- it- it's just dimples! Dimples across the board Robin! I mean what am I supposed to do with that!?" He groans, his hands flailing at his sides, a habit he'd picked up from both Robin and Eddie.

"You should tell him how you feel maybe?" Robin says, he voice completely calm as she stirs her ramen slowly.

"Can you please stop suggesting that. We've established that's not a viable solution." Steve huffs, hands falling to the countertop on their small island, his shoulders tight.

"Well. No. You established that. I agreed to no such thing." Robin shakes her head, crosses her arms again.

"Steve. It's been three years. We've all lived together. For three years. You've been hopelessly in love with him. Forthree. Fucking. Years."

Steve opens his mouth to defend himself but before he can speak there's a clatter by the door and Eddie comes skidding back into the room.

"You're in love with me!?" He shouts, his eyes wide as they bounce between Robin and Steve.

"I'm out." Robin says, grabbing her bowl gently and walking away.

"Robin!" Steve calls, it sounds more like a whine but he would deny that to his grave.

"Nope." Is all he gets from her as she, uncharacteristically, gracefully dodges his reaching hands and disappears down the all into her room.

Steve turns, his mouth opening, about to apologize or backtrack or maybe cry a little, but instead finds himself with a chestful of Eddie Munson. Eddie's hands tug his hips close and then move nimbly up his sides to rest against his neck.

"Hi." Eddie says, smiling. Steve's eyes move to his cheeks, his dimples, helpless.

"Hi. I can expla- mmfph!" Eddie's lips press to his with a genlte force Steve could only associate with Eddie. His lips are soft, if a little chapped, and warm, moving gently agaisnt his. Steve lets his eyes fall closed and hums into the kiss, wraps his arms around Eddie's waist and holds him close.

"I'm in love with you too." Eddie breathes, pulls back, looks at Steve, his eyes shining with tears.

"I love you too." He breathes again, bumping his nose into Steve's.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, tilts his head and watches as Eddie dramatically clutches his chest with a teasing grimace.

"Yeah." Eddie nods, his nose scrunching. Steve bites his lip, squeezes Eddie's hips until he squirms and then pulls him close again.

"I love you." Steve says, reaching up and tucking Eddie's hair behind his ear.

"You said." Eddie sinks his teeth into his own lip and scrunches his nose again, swaying side to side, moving them both.

"Not to you. And it's nice to say it. Finally." Steve says, smiling as Eddie keeps them swaying slowly.

"Three years is a long time I guess." Eddie nods, slowly, eyes narrowing.

"What? What's that for?" Steve asks, reaching up and moving his finger over the frown lines on Eddie forehead, trailing his finger down his nose as well, making it twitch.

"Nothin just. Three years is a lot." He bites at Steve's hand as he moves it away to rest on Eddie's shoulder, Eddie's eyes move back to his face.

"But six years is longer." He mumbles it, and quickly tucks his face against Steve's neck, hugging him and holding him close.

"Wait what? Six years?" Steve frowns, tries to untangle Eddie from himself, Eddie holds on tighter.

"Eddie!" Steve huffs, manages to untangle himself and look at Eddie, who's red in the face.

"What?" He asks, sounding innocent. Like he hadn't just said what he'd said.

"Six years?" Steve asks. Eddie nods, looks at the floor.

"That was... senior year. My senior year." Steve says slowly, doing the math.

"Yeah. I was there for that." Eddie mumbles.

"I know. I just... you have not been in love with me since senior year." Steve protests, rolling his eyes fondly.

"Okay fine. Maybe not actual love. But I was infatuated. Big time." Eddie admits, rubbing at his neck.

"Dude I was miserable senior year. I had no friends. I got my fuckin heart broken. I mean I was a mess." Steve shook his head again, watched as Eddie nodded in agreement as he spoke.

"I know dude. And I know it probably says something shitty about me but... it was a good look on you." Eddie shrugged, looking sheepish.

"Misery was a good look on me?" Steve propped his hands on his hips. Eddie waves his hand at Steve, groans as he spins in a circle to get his eyes back on Steve.

"Yes man! Sorry. Not in like... ugh. I don't know. You went from pretentious douchebag to sad pretty boy. And you stopped Tommy shithead from shoving my head into a toilet one day and I dunna that sort of changed how I saw you okay?" Eddie's hands flailed, and then he clapped his hands and pointed at Steve.

"And! And and! You didn't even like... seem interested. You just told him to fuck off all nonchalant, and then you were gone, man! And then the next fucking year all that shit happened, and I saw you with the gremlins and I just... fell hard okay?" He shrugged again, rolling his eyes when he saw the grin spreading across Steve's face.

"You sat by my bed in the hospital man. What did you expect? There's only so much my little gay heart can fend off before it goes all soft and gooey." Eddie pouts at him and Steve thinks his heart might burst out of his chest.

"You never said anything." Steve says, takes a step toward Eddie.

"Yeah well. I didn't know you were into guys until very recently and I-" his hands wave at his sides, like he's helpless.

"You what?" Steve pushes, teasing now. Eddie levels him with an unimpressed look and then rolls his eyes.

"I was scared alright? Cuz if I said something, and you didn't feel the same, then I'd have ruined everything. And I don't know if you've notcied this Steve, but I kinda like having you around. And being around you." He makes a face, like it should be obvious.

"And love confessions tend to change things, between people. So I just... didn't say anything." He shrugged again, helpless again. Steve closed the distance between them quickly. Grabbing Eddie's face genlty, holding him as he stares at Steve.

"We are. So. Fucking. Stupid." Steve punctuates each word with a little shake to Eddie's head. The laugh that bursts out of Eddie as he wraps his arms around Steve and pulls him close again fills their apartment like sweet music.

Steve presses kisses anywhere he can reach, along Eddie's shoulder, up his neck, across his cheeks. Eddie finally cups his cheeks and finds Steve's lips with his own.

"Honey I love you. But if you ever call yourself stupid again in my presence we're gonna have a problem you and me." Eddie mumbles, his lips still brushing Steve's as he speaks. Steve snorts and dives face first into Eddie's neck.

"Laugh all you want sweetheart. I'm serious." Eddie assures him.

"I called you stupid too ya know?" Steve sighs into Eddie's shoulder.

"Mhm. I'm allowing that. Currently." Eddie hums, his hand rubbing Steve's back as he clings to him.

"Okay. I won't. But I do really love you." Steve says, pulls back to look at Eddie. His nose scrunches again, that giddy smile back on his face.

"I really love you too." Eddie darts forward, peppers kisses across Steve's cheeks.

"Shit. You're gonna be late." Steve says, glancing at the clock on the microwave. Eddie shrugs one shoulder.

"That's alright. They'll understand. You wanna come?" He asks, squeezing Steve's hips.

"You want me to come? To your dungeon game?" Steve lifts his eyebrows.

"Okay I know you know what it's called. That's not as cute as you think it is." Eddie says. Steve leans closer, his breath ghosting over Eddie's neck makes him shiver.

"Yes it is." Steve whispers, then licks a stripe up Eddie’s cheek, and then promptly pouts when Eddie is unfazed.

"They won't care if I come?" Steve asks, wiping at the wetness he'd left behind.

"Course not. The guys love you. And they'll be fucking ecstatic that I'm not gonna be pinning about you anymore." Eddie winks, slaps Steve's butt as he reaches behind him for his keys sitting on the counter.

"You've been pinning for me?" Steve repeats, teasing, as he grabs his shoes.

"Six. Years. Steven. Yeah, you could say I was pinning." Eddie grabs his bag off the floor as Steve tugs his laces tight.

"Alright alright. But hey," Steve presses himself to Eddie's side as they reach the door.

"They're gonna wish you were still pinning by the time we're done." Steve grabs Eddie's head and presses his lips to Eddie's cheek, hard. Eddie cackles, shoots Steve a wink as he grabs his hand, and tugs him out the door.

[chronicowboy]

His breakup with Marisol is about as unremarkable as the rest of their relationship. There's no catastrophic muffin mess in his kitchen or divorce papers. Just a quiet I don't think this is working out, I'm sorry. Marisol hadn't even cried. She'd just nodded like she'd been waiting for it and left, didn't even need to grab anything from the house before she went and really that just reassured Eddie that this was the right choice.

So, his breakup with Marisol is unremarkable, except that it's not. It's pretty fucking remarkable when he thinks about it because it's not just that they weren't working out, not just that he really didn't care about spending time with her, not just the clench in his gut every time she touched him. No. It's pretty fucking remarkable because he realises he's in love with his best friend.

That's what pushes him over the edge, gives him the last kick he needs to actually break things off with her. Because Eddie may have sworn himself to secrecy about it the moment he realised, but he could never string someone along just because he couldn't have the real someone he wanted.

It's a fucking revelation once he has it. Not a ton of bricks, but the sun peeking out from behind the clouds on the greyest of days, bright and blinding. And the way Eddie has always thought of Buck in terms of sunshine maybe should have tipped him off sooner, but with the way Buck has been beaming over the past few weeks. Well. Eddie doesn't really think he can be blamed for only just taking his sunglasses off and daring to look directly at the light.

And, okay, so Eddie maybe makes it a full week before he decides his self-sworn secrecy absolutely is not a viable option when Buck walks through life now like a drop of sunshine in human form. It's after Buck leaves the Diaz house, walking out from a day of giggles and joy at the go-kart track they'd finally managed to convince Chris to be seen with them at, leaving behind a cosy heat like sun-warmed skin, that Eddie realises he cannot go another day without telling Buck that he's desperately, deeply in love with him.

And so, that's how Eddie finds himself at Buck's door on a random Sunday morning, knocking for the first time since Natalia waltzed out of the picture. Buck opens it a few moments later looking perfectly sleep-rumpled and soft and downright golden where he's backlit by the early morning sunlight pooling in the loft.

"Eddie," Buck breathes out, eyes darting up the stairs before refocusing on Eddie and what must be the most hopelessly lovesick expression painted across his face. "H-hey, what are you doing here?"

"I, um." Eddie takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous, and wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. "I wanted to talk to you about something. Now a good time?" And Buck must hear the slightly shaky steel in his voice because the surprise on his face morphs into a concern so quintessentially Buck that Eddie just wants to kiss it away.

"Y-yeah, of course, come on in." Buck holds the door open for him, and Eddie migrates to the fridge as Buck closes the door with the gentlest touch. "So, um, what's up?"

"I..." Eddie swallows against the heart in his throat, loses himself in the shining blue of Buck's eyes like an ocean he'd be more than happy to drown in. "I broke up with Marisol last week."

"Oh, Eddie." Buck slumps, and Eddie tries not to think that it looks a little like relief. "I'm so sorry, man. That sucks."

"No, no." Eddie waves him off with a laugh. "It's good. Was a long time coming actually." He shakes his head at himself. "I think I was dating her just to tick a box, you know? Realised you probably shouldn't be more excited about a phone call from your new buddy than one from your kinda long-term girlfriend. You definitely shouldn't be relieved when you see your best friend in the restaurant you're taking her to and disappointed when you realise he's just leaving."

And then, Buck blushes, ducks his head, does that little smile that could light up every house on South Bedford Street just like Eddie had been hoping for.

"Yeah." Buck looks up at him from under his lashes. "Probably not."

It bolsters Eddie. Buck's sunshine giving him that one last push he needs.

"There was something else I wanted to say," Eddie starts. And there isn't really any fear in him, knows they'll make it through this no matter what, just an overwhelming sense of peace to come. "I..." A deep breath, gathering all his love and devotion in his lungs so it's ready to pour out on his next inhale and—

A groan from upstairs has the words dying in his throat. A masculine groan. And then:

"Evan?"

"D-down here," Buck calls back.

Eddie can't take his eyes off the loft, stuck there like a car crash he can't look away from as a very shirtless Tommy Kinard appears at the top of the stairs and quickly blanches.

"Shit. Um..." He looks down at Buck in a panic.

Eddie finally manages to drag his eyes away from the very chiselled curveball that just hit him at a hundred miles per hour and finds Buck's face. Small, scared, shaken. He knows the feeling. And because he loves Buck, because of just how deeply he loves Buck, it's the easiest thing in the world to lock that love away and let his face crack into the most genuine of grins. Because if Tommy's been the thing making Buck shine like every fucking star in the sky, well Eddie will absolutely not be getting between them.

"You've been so happy," Eddie chokes out, still smiling.

"I have," Buck whispers.

"And I'm so happy for you." Eddie covers the distance between them in three long strides and pulls Buck into a hug so tight and clinging he's sure it's a confession in and of itself, but Buck only buries in deeper, taking shaky little breaths in the crook of Eddie's neck.

"Thank you," Buck murmurs into his skin. Eddie squeezes his eyes shut against the sudden rush of tears.

"Sorry you didn't get to tell me on your own terms," he murmurs back, letting Buck pull away, but lingering with a hand on his hip, on his shoulder. He should maybe be worried about what this could look like to Tommy who had basically never heard anything apart from rambles about Buck, except when he glances up the stairs, Tommy is nowhere to be seen.

"I was going to tell you," Buck rushes out. "I-I just wasn't sure how."

"That's okay," Eddie says. It's okay. It's okay. "Well, I'll stop gate-crashing for the... Second time?" He raises an eyebrow, and Buck flushes a pink Eddie will never ever get to taste. "Yeah, okay. That makes sense." He remembers the pure fear on Buck's face, the indecision on Tommy's and the sudden tightening of his own chest despite his smile. "I'll leave you guys to it." He clears his throat. "Kinard, if you hurt him, they'll never find your body," he shouts up the stairs.

"Copy that, Diaz," Tommy shouts back.

"I'm really proud of you, Buck." Eddie wraps him in another hug then, a quick thing, just one last touch before Eddie seals every desire away for good.

"Thanks, Eddie." Buck walks him to the door, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and Eddie wants to hug him again. Wants so badly it hurts. But if he hugs Buck again, he doesn't think he'll ever let go. "See you at work tomorrow."

"See you at work." Eddie prays Buck is too distracted to hear the wobble in his voice.

"Wait, sorry, what did you want to talk about?"

Eddie freezes on the threshold, the stutter of his heart painful like he's back in a suit store, and he catches himself on the doorframe with a shaking hand.

"It can wait."

[ghost-proofbaby]

friday, i'm in love (eddie munson x reader)

summary: one of these days, you'll talk to the cute boy at your coffee shop. just... not today. (wc: 6.3k+)

order up! i've got one cup of sunshine for @munson-blurbs ♡

Today’s the day. 

You take a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your bag as it digs into your shoulder.

Today’s the day. 

You pull the door open for your local Starbucks, your preferred study date destination. 

Today’s the day. 

You smile at one of the other regulars, a kind and older gentleman named Jim. If you focus on Jim, your eyes won’t avert to him. 

Today’s the day.

You already know he’s here. You delude yourself into believing you can specifically hear the scratch of his pencil on paper, that every click of a mouse or clack of a keyboard is coming from his laptop. Hell, maybe if you closed your eyes, you’d convince yourself the music humming over the shop’s speakers is actually the muffled tone warbling out of his headphones. 

Today’s the day.

You order one of your normal drinks, one brimming with caffeine and drowning in enough sweet caramel drizzle to give you instantaneous cavities. It doesn’t matter – today’s meant to be a sweet day. The weather’s nice, nothing like it was last week when you’d been ordering a hot Earl Grey tea sweetened with honey each day, and you tell the young man taking your order that it’ll be iced. 

He’s new. You have no doubt in your mind, because he wasn’t here last week, and one of the baristas you do recognize is hovering to the side as he rings you out. 

You’re a creature of habit. All the baristas know you well, other regulars (see: Jim) even recognize you these days. You used to only come in once or twice a week, either to cram for tests or play a morbid game of catchup with all your homework, but something changed in the last two months. 

He showed up in the last two months. 

Today’s… not the day.

You turn with your overly sweet drink in hand only to be met with sore disappointment. You were right, he is here, already seated at his usual table. 

And he’s joined by a girl and boy you’ve never seen before, but he surely has, by the way he’s all smiles and laughter focused directly at the pair. 

You try to not let your stomach drop too low, to catch it before it hits the ground and gathers any unwanted attention your way. It’s fine, it’s okay, it’s good – today wasn’t the day, but maybe tomorrow will be. Maybe tomorrow can finally be the day you speak to the boy from the coffee shop who’s overrun your thoughts one day at a time, the boy you see every day like clockwork, the boy you’ve never exchanged a single word with. 

“Dingus, you can’t just say that to a girl!” the girl seated in front of him, her back to you, yells as she smacks Dingus on the chest. 

Your coffeeshop boy only cackles in delight, and you feel as if the sunshine that has broken through the cloud cover outside has wormed its way into your veins. His laugh is brilliant and warming as it echoes in your chest, and you try to remind your beating heart that it isn’t yours to keep. That doesn’t stop your arteries and veins from wrapping their way around the sound and thrumming to match its pace. It doesn’t stop your ribs from trying to hopelessly capture the sunshine. Maybe one day you’ll make him laugh like that, maybe one day you’ll find the nerve to strike a conversation with him.

Tomorrow has to be the day, since this sunny Monday hasn’t been.

—

Tuesday also isn’t the day. 

You don’t even have a good excuse this time. He’s alone today, just as he usually is. His headphones are already in once you’ve arrived and you can hear tinny guitar solos blaring out of them from across the room. You almost convince yourself that that’s a good reason to approach him, to tap his shoulder and let him know how listening to music that loudly can permanently damage your eardrums, y’know? 

But then you realized how prissy that made you sound. If you did that, you’re sure Chrissy, one of your favorite baristas here, would absolutely taunt you for days on end, probably making jabs about you being a grandma, going the full mile and offering you a senior discount just for shit and giggles. 

So you stay seated. And you meet the peculiar look of Chrissy as she watches you and Eddie, the only two customers in the lobby this time of afternoon, as if she’s waiting for something to happen. Anything. The raise of her eyebrows serves as a painful prodding in your side as if to say “Well? What are you waiting for? Go on.” 

You don’t go on. And that’s the issue – for the last two months, you have let the idea of some stranger completely occupy every thought you have to spare without even knowing his name. He was just always here; two months ago, your once quaint and nice study spot was infiltrated by wild curls and drumming fingers, plush pink lips that could make the older ladies that pass through absolutely swoon with a simple smirk and hello. You’d talked the ear off of all your friends for nearly an hour the day he’d worn grey sweatpants in rather than his normal ripped jeans. You’d caught yourself staring intently at the various rings that decorate his left hand on more than one occasion, trying to make out what the various symbols of silver were. 

“This is getting painful to watch.” 

You hadn’t even noticed Chrissy round the counter and head over to your table with a cloth in hand until she was looking down at you with a soft, childish pout and her big blue eyes framed with furrowed brows. 

“What?” you question, putting down the pen you’d been clicking on and off for the last ten minutes, making no move to properly revise and submit the essay lighting up the screen of your laptop. 

Chrissy keeps her voice low, moving to lean down closer to you under the guise of wiping the table beside yours, “The two of you. It’s painful, babe. One of you has to stop making eyes and make the first real move eventually.”

Real. A word you had cursed over a glass of wine with your roommate last night. 

She’d pointed out the way you only liked the idea of your coffee shop boy thus far, how you had yet to introduce yourself to the real him. Which, she was right, of course. It was easiest this way; from a distance, he can be anything you want. He could be your easy Sunday mornings, sleepy smiles over toast and coffee made at home. He could be your tired Thursday evenings, coming straight home from whatever class or shift had wreaked havoc on your mind and right into his arms, popcorn and a movie already waiting for you to decompress over as you told him about your day. He could be a source of comfort on cold nights, a breath of fresh air on warmer mornings. He could be anything, as long as he continued to be just your coffee shop boy. A fruitless crush you’d always observe from across a bustling lobby. Keeping him at an arm’s length kept both of you safe: from disappointment, from complications, from reality. 

“Just because we both come in everyday to use your free wifi and drink your mediocre coffee, doesn’t mean you get to play match-maker when you’re bored,” you try to keep a straight face as you say this, forcing a look of disinterest as Chrissy stares you down. 

Normally, this would be the part where you’d snap at Chrissy that if she was so piqued in her interest with your coffeeshop boy, she could ask him out herself. But he wasn’t Chrissy’s type – the round enamel pin on her apron with a faded, baby pink  background, multiple cats stacked on top of one another in different shades of pink, orange, and white, told you as much. The heart eyes she’d made at the girl that had been here with him the day before confirmed it. 

“Don’t be so pissy,” Chrissy teases, “Or I’ll revoke wifi privileges.” 

“You don’t scare me, Chris.” 

“I should.”

“You’re all bark, no bite,” you scoff, a bit louder than before, and don’t even notice your boy subtly taking one of his earbuds out, fighting to keep his eyes down to the page he’s scribbling on rather than glancing up at your interaction, “And I use bark sparingly, considering your bubblegum pink aesthetic doesn’t exactly scream scary dog.” 

Chrissy grins wider at your words – you’ve never backed down from being brazen with your humor against her. You don’t treat her grossly delicate or thickly lay on fake niceties. You’re genuine. It’s probably a contributing factor to you being her favorite regular.

He snorts, and you just barely catch the echo of the sound, making both you and Chrissy glance in his direction. 

His eyes are glued on his notebook as a blush begins to spread up his neck. You can’t help the shy smile that urges the corners of your mouth upwards. 

Talk to him, Chrissy mouths obnoxiously as she grabs her rag, taking slow and exaggerated steps backwards before she spins, her blonde ponytail bouncing as she speed-walks back behind the counter.

One day, you’ll talk to him. Soon. 

—

Soon comes too soon. Far too soon and far too embarrassing of circumstances. 

One moment, your eyes are glued to the statistics textbook in front of you, laptop set off to the side with your headphones connected in and a study playlist queued up on Spotify. The next, someone’s frappucino is spilling across the pages of numbers and percentages, making you gasp and jump back to no avail. The damage is done – your book is ruined, the front of your shirt is soaked, and all of your handwritten notes are now soggy and unreadable. 

“Oh, shit!” the poor kid who had been the culprit stands before you, stunned and red with embarrassment as his friends quiet their cackling from behind him. It’s clear the group had been rough-housing, and that’s what led to this accident. 

You zero in on a melting glob of whipped cream that settles into the open spine of the textbook, mouth falling agape as tears fill your eyes immediately.

Shit. No. No, no, no. This was a rental. 

None of the younger boys are the one to make a move to help you. The baristas don’t stand a chance, delayed in even noticing the commotion. You’re a statue of bleary vision and panicking breaths as you realize the sticky mess is everywhere, including your laptop. 

Your coffeeshop boy notices immediately. He’d noticed the moment the young boy had lost his balance beside you, was already scooting out his chair and jumping up before the blended coffee had even made contact with your table. 

You come to your senses right around the time he’s at your side, a fistful of napkins, uselessly attempting to save your textbook that was already clearly ruined.

“Ah, fuck,” he whispers as he uses up all the napkins he’d managed to snag, looking up wildly at you, eyes zeroing in on the mess on the front of your shirt. You can’t even relish in the fact that this is the first time you’ve heard his voice so closely; you’re mortified and trembling, still unsure of whether you’re more angry about your textbook, your laptop, or your shirt, “Hey, you okay?” 

Tears. There’s tears streaming down your face, hot with embarrassment and anger and defeat. You think the kid whose drink is now in your lap has been apologizing, but you pay him no mind. 

“Go get cleaned up,” the coffeeshop boy immediately moves out of the way, motioning you out of your seat, towards the bathrooms, “I’ll watch your stuff, try to clean it up some, too.” 

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. You’re up in an instant, ignoring the stares of the baristas and the other boys, racing to the back corner of the shop where the two single-person bathrooms reside. You rush into one blindly, trying to calm your erratic heart and the impending panic attack. 

It takes you twelve minutes to do so. Three splashes of cool water to the face, two pep talks about how it “wasn’t that bad”, and another whole minute of blankly staring into the mirror at the baby-hairs that frame your face that are now wet and plastered to your cheeks and forehead alike, just wondering where you’ll come up with the money for your damaged textbook. 

And laptop. It also got on your laptop, son of a bitch.  

You also have to come to terms with the fact that you’d burst into silent tears in the middle of your favorite coffee shop. In front of your coffee shop fantasy crush. You may never recover from that embarrassment, if you’re being honest with yourself.

A small knock comes from the door of the bathroom, forcing you to sigh deeply before gathering up all your composure and broken pride. 

“Yeah?” you ask through the crack, hardly opening the door. 

It’s Chrissy, standing wide-eyed and hopelessly holding two pieces of clothing in her hand, “Okay, so uh, we don’t have any spare shirts here. But… But I have a spare apron? And a spare jacket? I’m sorry, these are awful options.” 

“I…” I’d rather die than wear that apron, or ruin someone’s jacket. “It’s fine, Chris. I’ll probably get going anyways.” 

“But your shirt is all-” she pauses, and you could burst into tears all over again at the way she scrunches her nose so adorably, “-sticky.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“It’ll get all over your car.”

“It’s already all over my stuff. Might as well go big or go home.” 

“I owe you a free coffee now, you know that?” Chrissy’s shoulders finally deflate in defeat, accepting your stubbornness as the winning contender, “Next time you come in, probably tomorrow. Whatever you want. It’s on the house, I sw-”

“Damn, now I wish some twerp spilled their mocha cookie whatever all over me,” it’s him – your coffee shop boy. A boy who came to your rescue, a boy who lives in all your bedtime fantasies, and a boy whose name you still don’t know. Chrissy turns and the two of you both look at him, you opening the bathroom door wider despite your embarrassment. He immediately throws up a hand in surrender, “Sorry, I’m, uh- shit, I’m interrupting. But I just… Uh, well. Okay, this is weird. Really weird. You can ban me if this is too weird,” he turns to Chrissy with wide brown eyes, making her immediately cross her arms across her chest defensively, “Seriously, okay? Say the word, I’ll accept my banishment. I just-”

“What’s behind your back?” Chrissy narrows her eyes. You hadn’t even noticed the boy hiding something, too busy being enamored by his stumbling words and adorable blush. Fuck. You hated it; you hated the fact that everyone was right, and the real him was even more adorable than you could have anticipated. 

He brings his arm out from behind him, and when you see what’s in his clutches, you nearly scream in frustration. 

He’s not just more adorable than the fantasized versions of him you’ve created – he’s more thoughtful, too. It spells out trouble for you and your restless, irrevocably romantic heart. 

“I keep spare shirts in my van,” he explains sheepishly, “I swear it’s clean. It’s for- well, I… It’s for ‘just in case’ situations. Sort of like this one, I guess.” 

Chrissy is quick to take it from him, passing it along to you as she keeps staring him down, “How convenient.”

“Very,” he nearly cowers under her stare, swallowing hard before turning to you, “You don’t have to give it back or anything. You can even burn it, for all I care. It’s just some shirt for… for, uh, some shitty band.” 

You don’t think too much about the comment, just shut the door and leave Chris alone with the coffeeshop boy, silently praying she doesn’t tear into him unnecessarily after the act of kindness. You change shirts, dabbing at your chest with wet paper towels between peeling off your coffee-stained blouse and switching it for your coffeeshop boy’s shirt. 

Corroded Coffin. It’s not a band you recognize, as you read out the jagged writing of the logo across the front of the black t-shirt. The white font pops and you’re already trying to think of an easy segue into maybe discussing whoever this ‘shitty band’ is with coffeeshop boy rather than the mortifying disaster you’d just endured from a group of young teenage boys who knew no better.

But when you leave the bathroom, that group of scoundrels is gone, along with coffeeshop boy. Chrissy wears an apologetic look over the shoulder of a customer she’s taking the order of at the front counter. It does nothing to wear on the sinking feeling of disappointment in your gut, that deflation at realizing he didn’t wait around for you. The customer pays and leaves the counter, and Chrissy almost looks to be expecting you to stop and say something, but you don’t.

You don’t say a single word. Only rush and gather your things off the table, which are surprisingly clean. Coffeeshop boy did a good job.

Too bad you don’t have the chance to tell him. 

Reality, you decide, has something in common with the coffee; it’s always going to end with a bitter bite, no matter how much sweetness you suffocate it with. 

—

You don’t return for several days after Wednesday’s incident. Thursday turns to Friday, Friday bleeds into Saturday, and by the time Sunday rears its ugly head, you’re still wallowing in self-pity. Embarrassment has a way of sinking deep into your bones, and no amount of curling up in the center of your bed will make it fade. You try to sit up at your desk and finish some of the revisions you’d been working on that awful day before wearing some kid’s frappucino, but you can’t focus. The pages of your rental textbook are still sticky, your S and K keys now only work half the time, and you can’t find the right study playlist. The atmosphere is wrong, the vibe is wrong, everything is just wrong. 

At least you hadn’t resorted to wearing Coffeshop Boy’s shirt. You’d thought about it, of course, but you hadn’t hit that low of a point. Not yet, at least. 

Your roommate can’t take it. She insists you get out of the house, simply because your moping is “too fucking sad” to witness. To which you obviously had to retort, “how do you think I feel?”.

So now you’ve been standing outside of your usual Starbucks for five minutes. Squinting like a weirdo through the large, front windows, trying to make out if he was there. Or maybe the ‘twerp’ who had spilled the frappucino. You weren’t looking for a fight – you just needed to avoid every individual who had witnessed the most embarrassing day of your life to date. 

“He’s not here,” a voice suddenly says from behind you. You jump a fraction before spinning and catching sight of one of those damn witnesses: Chrissy, “He never comes in on Sundays. You don’t, either, by the way. What gives?” 

“I’ve come in on Sundays before,” you deflect.

Chrissy laughs, shaking her head, brushing past you with her green apron rolled up into one of her fists, “No, you haven’t. So I’ll ask again,” she pauses, opening one of the front doors and motioning for you to enter first, “What gives?” 

Your feet drag as you walk past her, the lobby eerily quiet. At the very least, she’s right – there’s no sign of your coffeeshop boy. Just some old dude with a newspaper in your usual corner, and a girl with a laptop, seemingly in some sort of video meeting, in coffeeshop boy’s usual spot. 

“No hidden romance there, unfortunately,” Chrissy notices your staring and waves between the patrons. Neither so much as look up, “You and Eddie are our store’s only modern Romeo and Juliet.” 

“Who?” 

“Eddie,” she repeats, watching the realization spread across your face. A smirk appears on her glossy lips as she clarifies anyways, “Your knight-in-shining-armor. The boy you’ve been making heart eyes at for weeks. The dude of your dreams-”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you cut her off, cheeks already warming as you glance again to the girl and the old man. Still no reaction. Your mortification today, it seems, has no audience. 

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. 

The name thrums through your chest, excitement and a twinge of guilt racing through your veins. 

Your coffeeshop boy’s name is Eddie. 

“I never knew his name,” you whisper quietly, catching yourself staring in the occupied seat that is usually his. “I… Have you known it this entire time?” 

Chrissy shakes her head, “No, I asked him Thursday. You know, the first day of your disappearance.” 

You can’t even process her slight jab at you, or the way she tilts her chin as she waits for a reaction. You’re too busy thinking about Eddie. Eddie, who doesn’t come here on Sundays. Eddie, who keeps spare t-shirts in his van– Eddie, who drives a goddamn van.

He’s suddenly tangible. It’s dizzying. 

“He asked about you, y’know,” Chrissy’s voice is low and you finally glance back to her, “On Thursday. And Friday. He asked about you.”

Eddie, who you’ve been waiting for the day to introduce yourself to. Eddie, who asked about you. 

“What’d he ask? Specifically?” you question, taking a deep breath and trying to clear your thoughts. 

“If you’d been in, if I’d seen you. He even asked for your name.” 

“Did you tell him?” 

“Nope,” she grins, blue eyes sparkling, “I figured I’d give you the honor.” 

It’s on Sunday that you decide the next day you see coffeshop boy, that you see Eddie, it will be the day. It’s only fair that he knows your name now that you know his, after all. 

—

Monday isn’t the day, and neither is Tuesday. You show up to the Starbucks, you take your usual spot, you spend hours studying – Eddie never shows up. Wednesday and Thursday aren’t the days either, filled with finals and celebratory dinners at twenty-four hour diners with friends. 

By Friday, you’re missing your coffeeshop romance terribly. 

But Friday, as it turns out, isn’t quite as unlucky as the rest of the week. You wake up that morning, and you can feel it in your bones; today’s the day. You’ll see Eddie today. You’ll introduce yourself to Eddie today, without a Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappucino soaking your shirt. It’s an acknowledge truth in your bones, maybe even in the stars. Everything is aligning, and you were going to stop spending your days with your head in the clouds. Maybe it would fizz out, and the crush that had kept you on the edge of your seat, that had kept you mildly entertained for months would lead to nothing. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a beginning. A leap of faith into reality that could turn into something real. 

 When you first show up, you don’t see him. It’s during the tail-end of the morning rush that you make your way in, ordering your usual iced coffee and taking your usual seat with the perfect view of Eddie’s usual seat. Customers filter in and out, a line occasionally forming before the baristas take care of it quickly, but not a single person is the one you’re looking for. 

You distract yourself. You busy yourself with pulling out your laptop, glancing over whichever grades have been finalized, pondering over the ones that have yet to be set in stone. Once you’ve beat that horse to death and have nothing left but scholarly anxiety bubbling up, you’ve moved on to making a spreadsheet of all the books you want to read during the summer, with all the free hours you definitely weren’t going to waste, and would totally make use of. You even color code by genre. 

You think you have more fun making the spreadsheet than you will enjoy the actual reading over the novels you listed. 

Just as you’ve finished your iced coffee, ready to move onto looking at goddamn Yahoo news to entertain yourself, a cup is sat down in front of you. A hot grande cup. 

You read the sticker turned towards you before you even spare a glance to the person who’d sat down the drink: a grande Earl Grey tea, sweetened with one packet of honey. 

“Chrissy, I only get this when it’s rain-” you start, assuming the barista would be the one standing over your table. It isn’t. It’s coffeeshop boy – it’s Eddie. You can’t help the curse that falls from your lips, “Oh, shit.” 

“Sorry,” he bites his lip as if holding back a life, hands nervously shoved into the front pockets of his jeans as he rocks on his heels, “I just… I honestly don’t know what you usually get. But your cup was empty when I walked in, and the one time I got here before you, this was the drink you got, but now that I think about it, it was raining that day and that didn’t even cross my mind-”

Your smile is slow as it uncurls, so saccharine and so enamored as you finally cut off his rambling, “Thank you.” 

He doesn’t look reassured in the slightest, paling as he stutters out, “Oh, God. I- I’m a creep for remembering that, aren’t I? Fuck, I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice because I know Thursday was so rough-” he cuts off at your subtle wince at the reminder of that entire tragedy, “Sorry. God, how many times can I say sorry, am I right?” 

Eddie, who is absolutely fumbling over rambles like a fool when he approaches you to talk to you first. Eddie, who is quickly shaping up to be better than even your wildest dreams. 

“First of all,” you start, nervously making eye contact, trying to calm your nerves by reminding yourself he’s an even bigger mess than you right now, “You’re not a creep for remembering that. That’s… it’s really thoughtful, actually,” he breaks out into a restrained smile, the smallest glimpse of relief on his face, so you continue, “And second of all… I mean, who knows? Maybe it’ll rain and you saved me some trouble.” 

He lets out a bark of laughter at that, and immediately, all frozen awkwardness around the moment shatters. Whatever pedestal you’d set the boy on the last several weeks has crumbled with ease. Reality comes crashing down, and you relish in it. 

You relish in the golden streaks through his messy curls, and you drown in the richness of his brown eyes, entrancing this close up. You relish in that dimple in his right cheek, deep enough to swallow you whole as he recollects himself. You relish in the fact that he’s here, it’s Friday, and today is the day. 

“There is absolutely rain on the forecast, and you should absolutely just take my word for that and not fact check me,” he jokingly replies, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

“I know,” you blurt out with thinking, and immediately regret it. You can’t tell if the shock on his face is laced with amusement or not and you panic, desperate to defend yourself, “I- Chrissy told me, I swear. I’m sorry, that was weird, I just-”

He’s the one interrupting apologies now, “It’s okay. Can’t be weirder than knowing a stranger’s rainy day coffee order.” 

Grinning. God, you can’t stop grinning, even as you breathe out your name. 

“Sorry?” he asks with furrowed brows, hardly catching on to the whispered reveal.

“That’s my name,” you explain before repeating yourself. His cheeks undoubtedly ache the same way yours do, “Now I’m not a stranger. Makes it less weird.” 

His smile is downright radiant, and oh, God what you’d given to hear him murmur your name under his breath again in that odd, peculiar manner he just did. As if he’s trying it out, tasting it on his tongue and deciding if it’s worth repeating. 

His eyes shine; you have a feeling you will be hearing it again. 

“Say, is this seat taken?” 

You assume he’s meaning the chair across from you, tucked neatly into the table covered in your belongings, and you immediately shake your head to tell him it’s not, motioning for him to join you. 

He wasn’t meaning the chair. He flops himself down beside you on the bench seating, settling into the plastic plush as his thighs brush against yours. 

“So,” he starts, propping his elbow up on the table beside your laptop, resting his chin on his fist,“Tell me about yourself, not-stranger.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Everything,” he answers, making your heart clench, “But maybe, let’s just start with your coffee order for days that aren’t rainy.” 

Hours. You and Eddie spend hours talking. The baristas behind the counter rotate, the sun eventually sets, and you don’t even notice when clouds form and light spatters of rain spit out onto the sidewalk outside. You dive headfirst into reality with Eddie, and it’s like the first breath of Spring. 

He wakes you up in a way no shot of espresso ever could. It’s as if something deep inside of you had been sleeping for so long, you’d forgotten it existed until he magically awoke it. Something shining, something wonderful, something new. Something real.

Everyone was right. The tangible Eddie is infinitely better than the idea of coffeeshop boy. 

“You know,” you’ve drained your earl grey, laptop long since closed as your body mirrors Eddie’s and twists until your kneecaps press against each other. His arm rests casually along the back of the seat just over your right shoulder, “I’m still curious who Corroded Coffin is. I know you said they’re shitty, but-”

“Oh, God,” Eddie throws his head back in laughter, running his free hand over his face, “So, uh, funny story.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “Funny story?”

“Yes. Hilarious, actually,” he affirms, “Corroded Coffin is… uh, well… Corroded Coffin is my band.”

You can’t stop the snort, realization dawning on you. That’s why Eddie had the spare shirt in his van – it’s his own damn merch.

“I’m going to pretend you’re laughing with me, not at me,” he hums, leaning back and watching your giggles continue to hit you in waves.

“I am-” you start to reassure, broken off by another gasping laugh that even has him chuckling along, “I am, I swear! I just… Why would you tell me you guys are shitty?” 

“A bad joke,” he hums, waving his free hand, chuckles still lingering at the edge of his tone, “I tend to tell a lot of those around pretty people.” 

Pretty people. He thinks you’re pretty. 

“Yeah?” you choke out, laughter abruptly fading as the realization hits you.

He thinks you’re pretty. 

“Yeah.” 

Oh, God. He thinks you’re pretty. He’s in a band. He remembered the drink you got on a rainy day ages ago (him forgetting the rainy detail can be forgiven because he remembered without even knowing your name). He smells like spice, like everything kind and gentle and warm. It mixes so well with the smell of the coffee already in the air, you wouldn’t have noticed it was his cologne unless you hadn’t spent a better part of the hour leaning in closer and closer to him, the scent getting stronger and stronger. 

Maybe reality can be sweet. Maybe it’s not always bitter. 

“You know, we have a show coming up,” he continues on, tilting his head at you curiously, “Tomorrow night, actually.” 

“You do?” you ask dumbly, not catching on, not yet.

He nods, the corners of his lips curling up, “Yeah. It’s at this venue not far from here, a small bar. It’s not much but it’s an upgrade from where we started…” he trails off, eyes diverting to the wall behind you and across the store, “Uh, you obviously don’t have to… but, I mean, if you’re not busy, I could always add your name to the guest list. It’s no pressure, obviously! I mean, you don’t have to go, it’s just an id-”

“I’d love to,” you stop him with a hand on his knee, grounding him from the returning rambling, “Tell me when and where tomorrow night, and I’ll be there.”

Your heart might just burst. 

“Right,” he seems to still entirely beneath your touch, eyes darting down to where your hand rests, “Yeah. I can write it down for you-”

“Or I could give you my number.”

“Or you could give me your number.” 

You’re both grinning, blushing fools. He takes a second, just staring at you, seemingly in awe, before you have to remove your hand from his knee and put your palm up as a signal for him to hand over his phone. 

He nearly drops it in his flurry to get it into your waiting hand, bouncing his knee the entire time it takes you to put in your contact information. You make a point to add a coffee cup emoji after your name. 

“Hey, guys,” the two of you are suddenly interrupted just as you’re giving his phone back. It’s the barista from last Monday – the new one, the one who’d taken your order when you’d been convinced that would be the day you were going to speak to Eddie. Funny how clueless you had been at the time, “Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you guys know that we close in about ten minutes.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie gasps, sitting up straight as he tucks his phone back into his pocket, “Sorry, man. We’re heading out.” 

The new guy’s eyes light up ever so slightly, shrugging off the apology and just nodding with a polite smile. 

You wonder if you’ll even get the chance to break the news to Chrissy. Something tells you she’ll be finding out before you see her again. 

The boy retreats, and you’re quick to grab your laptop and move to shove it into your bag. Eddie stands and waits, unbothered and encouraging you to take your time before you swing the heavy bag over your shoulder. 

Eddie, the boy who’s show you’ll be going to. Eddie, the boy who now has your number. 

You don’t think you’ll ever get sick of his name echoing through your mind. 

“Thank you again,by the way,” you say as you pick up that empty grande cup, turning for the trash, “The tea was good, even though-” 

It’s raining. It’s steadily sprinkling outside, trees shifting with a gentle and stormy breeze. You can tell easily, even with the darkness of the evening having fallen. There’s rogue raindrops racing their ways down the window in front of you. Your reflection stares back faintly, and over your shoulder, you can see Eddie smile shyly. 

“It’s raining,” you murmur. 

“I told you,” Eddie says softly, “It was on the forecast. Also, I might have noticed the clouds building up on the drive over.” 

You turn to face him slowly, heart thumping against your ribs, “Did you… You knew it was my rainy day drink, didn’t you?” 

He blinks once, twice, before swallowing hard and nodding, “I did.” 

“How?”

“I mean, I wasn’t lying. I did hear them call it out that one time. Also, you always have a hot drink especially when it’s raining.” 

He looks like he might pass out from embarrassment, but you just let a grin overtake your features, “Oh?”

“Like I said, it’s creepy. Do I need to apologize again? I can apologize again.” 

Oh, your grin grows. 

“What else did you notice?” 

“Excuse me?”

You shrug, “What else did you notice about me? For example, I’ve always noticed your rings. Also, you listen to your music far too loudly. You’re gonna go deaf one of these days, you know.” 

He melts, color returning back to his features as he realizes you’re not upset or creeped out, “You noticed me before the other day?” 

“I did,” you try to downplay it, keep an even tone as your heart screams, “And it sounds like you noticed me too.” 

A boyish grin and two steps forward, he’s approaching you and evading your space with that warm smell of spice once more. 

“Yeah, I did,” he admits, ears and bridge of his nose alike tinged in a spackling of pink, “I noticed the faces you made whenever you’d work on math homework. And the way you’d cringe every time I turned up my music. And the way Chrissy never stopped teasing you, the same way she’d tease me on the days you weren’t here.” 

“Wow,” you sigh, looking back down at that empty cup. That goddamn empty cup that just revealed to you that he thought of you just as you’d thought of him, “We’re idiots.” 

That feeling that still rings in your bones. No longer just the feeling that today is the day, but that there’s more good things to come. There are lazy Sunday mornings to be had, relaxing Thursday nights to enjoy. There are tangible things to have and to hold in your future, materializing right out of nonsensical ideas you’d clung to just days before.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs in agreement as you toss the cup into the trash, “Yeah, we’re fuckin’ idiots. Don’t tell Chrissy, capiche?” 

Today was the day. Today was just the beginning. 

“Capiche.” 

It’s not until a month later, when you and Eddie come in together on one of your slow Sunday mornings, that Chrissy gets her I told you so moment. After the shock of seeing her two favorite customers on a Sunday, of course.

[3minsover]

20 year old, unlucky-in-love best friends steddie, who make a drunken pact to get married if they’re still single at 30. they don’t bring it up again, but steve has to stand by as eddie gets proposed to, having been hopelessly in love with him for the last 10 years.

it happens in front of everyone, and the first person eddie looks to is steve. he sees the way steve’s face just crumples. it’s then that he knows. he can’t say yes, not when there’s a chance.

so he asks his boyfriend if they can talk about it later, and heads straight to the bathroom, fixing steve with a Look as he goes. eddie hopes, fucking prays that steve will follow him. it’s minutes before there’s a quiet knock on the door.

“eddie? hey man, you okay in there?”

“steve? can- uh, can you come in here? i’m not like, shitting or anything.”

slowly, the door opens, and eddie rubs at his runny nose with the back of his hand. why is he crying? he has nothing to cry about. he’s supposed to be happy.

“eddie? are you okay?”

“uh, hah- no, actually. i’m pretty fucked up.” steve steps a little further into the bathroom shoves his hands into his pockets, and his cheeks are all pink and his eyes are shining.

“what happened?” steve asks quietly. and what’s eddie supposed to say? that he heard the words ‘will you marry me?’ and all he could picture was steve asking? “talk to me?”

“i can’t- it’s not, it’s not fair. i shouldn’t-”

“eddie.” steve grabs eddie’s wrists and shakes him a little, catches his attention. “what happened?”

“i couldn’t- he asked- and i just- i couldn’t, because he isn’t-” and eddie’s trying to make sense, but he’s shaking, he can’t meet steve’s eye.

“isn’t what?” steve asks, searching eddie’s eyes in such hopeful desperation it threatens to crack eddie’s heart in two. eddie finds himself speaking before he’s thought it through.

“isn’t you,” eddie sighs. “he isn’t you.”

steve blinks, dumbfounded, and his mouth falls open.

“what are you…what do you..?” and it’s out there now. eddie’s shown his hand, might as well keep flipping cards.

“he isn’t you, steve. never could be. all i could- i just wished it was- was you. okay? i always wanted it to be you.” steve’s eyes drop closed, and he presses his lips together.

“don’t. don’t do this now.” steve looks up again, eyes shining with unshed tears. “not after all this time.”

“steve…”

“i have spent- the last ten years- hoping that you’d see me. i’ve been here. why now?” eddie shifts his hands, takes hold of steve’s own in a grip that’s far surer than he has any right to.

“because you’ve been here. i didn’t let myself believe that you’d- that you’d want me, and i tried to, shit, like, move on or whatever. but i can’t, stevie.”

"eddie. please. don’t play with me.”

“i’m not. i mean it. and i know i missed my chance, and it’s too late-”

“i didn’t forget,” steve cuts in, “i didn’t forget what you said. hoped you’d remember.” eddie studies steve’s downtrodden expression, and he wants to smooth every crinkle and line from his pretty face. “i held onto it. just in case. i’d- shit, eddie, i’d marry you in a heartbeat if i could.”

it doesn’t make any sense, but it’s what steve said. eddie releases one of steve’s hands, brushes the backs of his fingers over steve’s cheek.

“you would?”

“wanted to for- for as long as i can remember. wanted you. and i shouldn’t.”

“shouldn’t? i just ran away from my own proposal because i couldn’t face the fact that he’s not you. let’s not talk about ‘shouldn’t’, huh?” steve laughs, and it’s the sweetest sound eddie’s ever heard. it sets something alight in his chest.

“okay. so, what now?” steve asks, fingers curling around eddie’s wrist a little more firmly. eddie smiles, a little mischief slipping into his voice as he speaks.

“you wanna go to vegas?”

[lovebugism]

i have a lot of nightmares and shake a lot when nervous. could u maybe write something abt a reader that goes through similar issues, and eddie comforts them and tries to make them feel safe? u can do whatever u like with this, i just need some fluff! :]

as someone who also has frequent nightmares, this was very self-indulgent heheh i hope you like it :D — eddie calms you down when you have a bad dream (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of panic attacks, 1.2k)

Eddie didn’t know he loved you until now. Like, right now.

He’d always had an inkling, at the very least, but he didn’t know for sure until he got you into his bed — bare-faced and swallowed whole in an oversized t-shirt older than you are. You share a single pillow with him despite having your own, leaving your noses mere inches apart. His tired eyes go a bit cross-eyed when he looks at you.

Despite his heavy head and heavier eyelids, he doesn’t want to stop looking at you. He doesn’t want to stop talking to you, either. He doesn’t want to fall asleep at all ‘cause he’s scared he’ll miss you too much. 

And that’s when he realizes that he’s head over heels, completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with you.

“You asleep yet?” he whispers into the dark bedroom, lit only by the streams of silver moonlight slipping through the curtains.

You shake your head against the pillow you share with him. “No,” you mumble — voice thick with exhaustion, eyes fluttered shut.

“Good,” Eddie replies, shifting on the mattress until he melts further into it. Your cold feet entwine with his warmer ones. He exhales a contented sigh through his nose. “Me neither…”

You can’t be entirely sure who dozed off first, but you know for certain you wake up before he does. 

3:47 A.M. blinks at you in bright red numbers on the nightstand. The witching hour greets you along with a rapidly beating heart, thrumming hard against your ribcage like it’s trying to escape from its confines.

The nightmare was a vivid one when it painted the backs of your eyelids, but you can’t really remember it now. You think that might be worse. Now you don’t know why you’re so scared — you just know that you are.

Fear, that’s all you can think about now, as your body trembles with a heavy, ice-cold feeling. Fear. Panic. Dread. 

The nightmare fades. Eddie’s body, warm and comforting next to yours, becomes a much more tangible thing. But you just can’t shake the feeling it left behind. The bad dream clings to you like smoke and swallows you whole before you can blink.

You shake with the longing to hold the boy beside you. If only you could clutch onto Eddie like a life vest, or a life-sized teddy bear, maybe then you could soothe your racing heart. But you know you don’t want to wake him, just like you know you don’t want him to see you like this — so torn up over a stupid bad dream.

You sit on the edge of the mattress and try to calm yourself down. The attempt is futile. You end up with a tight chest, a pounding heart, and two cheeks damp with fat tears. 

After no longer than five minutes of trying to stave off a panic attack by yourself, do you notice the bed shifting behind you. A wide palm smooths over your trembling shoulders a second later.

Eddie squints at your shivering silhouette, trying to see you better through the darkness and bleary haze of sleep. He finds you slouched over and clawing at your chest like something’s wrong. Your choked-back sobs and quiet sniffles aren’t any less concerning.

“You okay?” the boy slurs as he sits up behind you.

“‘M sorry,” you blurt, voice wet with emotion. You don’t know exactly what you’re apologizing for. You just feel like you should. Through hitched breaths, you manage out, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to wake you— I’m sorry.”

Eddie shakes his wild head in response. The mattress squeaks under his weight as he shifts closer to you. “It’s okay. I woke up on my own,” he tells you, even though that’s not exactly the truth. “What happened, huh? Are you okay?”

You sniffle and try to respond through feeble gulps of air. “It was just a bad dream. I’m okay—” you blubber through tears, breath catching halfway through.

With his palm pressed to your spine, Eddie can feel each of your rattling breaths as you fight to drag them in. It makes his own chest ache. Your panic is his own.

“Breathe, baby, c’mon,” he urges gently as he slips in beside you. With one hand over your trembling shoulder, he slides his other over your heart. The delicate organ patters with an inhuman vigor against his palm. 

“Gotta calm down, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your temple before pressing a kiss there. “‘Fore you heart explodes on me. Breathe, babe. You’re okay.”

Your swelling throat tightens. “I don’t feel good,” you confess through tiny whimpers, ‘cause you don’t know how else to tell him it feels like you’re dying. You put a cold, trembling hand over one of Eddie’s — the one gently cradling your heart — and fight to stay grounded.

The boy’s brows pinch with concern. “Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

You think for a moment. Then shake your head.

Eddie rubs a hand up and down the length of your back. “You’re doing good, babe. Just keep breathing for me. That’s it.”

He pulls you closer, embracing you despite the awkward angle. Your shoulder presses into his chest as your head nestles between his jaw and shoulder. You rest there until it no longer feels like you’re fighting for each breath. Until your ragged sobs turn into mousy sniffles.

The first thing you think to do after you’ve calmed is apologize.

“‘M sorry,” you murmur, thick with leftover emotion.

You feel his head shake against you, untamed curls tickling your skin. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

You snivel. “I feel like such a baby…”

“Everyone has bad dreams, babe. That’s life,” Eddie tells you with a lighthearted laugh. “I can’t count how many times I’ve slept on the couch after having one just so I could be closer to Wayne. Like, that’s embarrassing.”

“No, it isn’t,” you argue with a scrunched nose, cracking a small (but no less sincere) grin.

Eddie smiles at your smiling. He squeezes your shoulder with a gentle hand. “Wanna talk about it?” he offers, watching as you visibly ponder the question. You shake your head in response. He nods in understanding. “Wanna go back to sleep?”

You shake your head again, much less hesitant this time. You’re too scared to shut your eyes for longer than a blink now — lest the nightmare threaten to plague your mind again.

“Wanna sit in the kitchen with me while I make us some hot cocoa?” Eddie offers then.

You nod slowly, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth to hide the smile pulling there. You can’t help but beam, though, when he smacks a kiss to the warm apple of your cheek.

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he urges as he rises from the bed, pulling you gently with him. He guides you out of his bedroom with a warm hand cradling your smaller one. The quiet trailer fills with the sounds of creaking floorboards, bare feet shuffling against carpet, and Eddie’s tender voice.

“I’ll even pick out marshmallows from the Lucky Charms box to put in your cocoa—” he says before a yawn cuts him off. “—‘Cause that’s how much I love you.”

[steddiealltheway]

Steve looks around his living room filled with all the people he loves dearly and can’t help but think that they not only fill his empty house but also the empty hole in his heart.

Yet, something is slightly missing.

He shrugs off the thought and walks to the kitchen raising his voice to ask, “Does anyone want anything to drink?”

A few kids ask for Cokes, but Steve makes sure to grab more than they ask for, sure that someone will complain about not hearing him ask.

He balances the cans in his arms and makes his way back to the living room.

He freezes as he rounds the corner and takes in the image of Eddie and Jonathan huddled together on the couch. He gets the strange sensation of deja vu, recalling the night he saw Jonathan in Nancy’s room, comforting her while she and Steve were still together.

He lets the familiar shame wash over him as he recalls what he did after he saw them, lashing out in jealousy and anger with a can of red spray paint.

He shakes his head and tries to focus on the present. Once again, he takes in the sight of Eddie and Jonathan together and thinks, I won’t let Jonathan take him too.

The thought has his stumbling back a bit which catches Eddie’s eye as he looks up at Steve. A look of concern crosses over his face before he says something to Jonathan and gets up quickly, making his way to Steve.

“You okay?” Eddie asks, taking half the cans out of Steve’s arms.

Steve looks at him hopelessly lost in the way his heart is beating faster, his eyes seem to be glued to Eddie’s lips, and he wants more than anything to kiss him.

“Steve.”

Steve glances up to Eddie’s eyes. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks again, eyebrows raising in concern.

Steve’s eyes flick down to Eddie’s lips again. “I think I…” he hesitates then says, “I need Robin.” He walks away quickly, scattering the cans on his coffee table before walking to where Robin sits with Nancy and yanks her by the hand.

“Hey- Steve?” Robin asks as Steve drags her to the hall bathroom. “What are you-”

Steve closes the bathroom door behind them and sits on the ground, back pressed against the door. Robin slowly sits in front of him with her legs crossed.

“I like Eddie,” Steve blurts out.

Robin shifts. “Yeah, you’ve made it pretty clear that you two are friends.”

Steve runs a hand over his face and sighs. “No, I mean that I like Eddie.”

Robin stares at him for a few moments before gasping, “Oh. Holy shit!”

“Yeah, holy shit,” Steve echoes. It’s a day full of deja vu.

“Is it my turn to make fun of your taste in men?”

Steve laughs, feeling tears start to flood his eyes in relief, fear, confusion, acceptance, and so many other emotions he can’t begin to describe. Robin laughs with him, scooting until she sits next to him, leaning against the door. Steve rests his head on her shoulder.

“So, what are you going to do?”

Steve groans and buried his face in her neck. “Hope that the ground opens up and the Upside Down takes me back.”

Robin scoffs. “You’re not allowed to joke about that.”

“And you are?”

“That’s different.”

Steve shoves her shoulder. “You say that joke almost every day.”

“And that’s why you’re not allowed to joke about it. You’re stealing my jokes.”

“You steal mine,” Steve groans.

Robin laughs. “Okay, maybe I do, but I think we have more important things to talk about.”

Steve leans his head back against the door. “Yeah, we do,” he agrees.

They sit in silence for a few moments, unsure of where to go from there.

There’s a soft knock on the door.

“You two okay in there?” Eddie gently asks on the other side of the door.

Steve puts his head in his hands. He doesn't know what to do.

"We're alright! Just give us a few minutes," Robin yells in response.

As the sound of footsteps retreating slowly fades, Steve breathes out, "Thanks."

Robin nods and stands up, offering her hands out to Steve. "Up."

Steve huffs but takes her hands, letting her pull him to his feet. She turns him to the mirror and Steve takes in his appearance. He looks the same as before but somehow feels entirely different.

"Now, give yourself a pep talk the same way you made me when I realized I had feelings for Nancy."

"Robin-"

"Do it."

Steve sighs and looks at himself. "You're cool. You're funny. You're hot. And you will not freak out or panic the next time you see your crush."

He glances at Robin who stares at him while trying not to laugh. Steve sighs, "You're right. It really is a dumb pep talk."

"Thank you for finally admitting it, but do you feel better?"

"A bit," Steve says. Maybe he can handle being in the same room as Eddie.

"Ready to step back into the world?"

"Not at all," Steve says, swinging the door open.

Robin pats him on the back as she leaves the bathroom. "Good luck," she whispers as she walks back to Nancy.

Steve takes a deep breath and is thankful to find that no one is staring at him too much as he makes his way back into the living room. But then he sees Eddie laughing loudly at something Jonathan says, and he absolutely disregards the pep talk.

He is absolutely, one hundred percent, panicking and freaking out.

“Eddie!” Steve says louder than intended, causing the whole room to go silent and everyone to turn and stare at him. Steve apologetically nods at everyone and puts his hands on his hips. He looks at Eddie and asks, “Can I talk to you?”

Eddie slowly nods and gets up to follow him. Everyone watches, but Steve carefully avoids Robin’s look, knowing she’s either entirely horrified in disbelief or being way over-supportive.

As he makes his way back to the same bathroom, he hears everyone begin to talk again which fills him with relief.

Eddie follows him into the bathroom and puts his hands in his pockets, looking entirely uncertain and guilty. “What did I do?”

Steve shakes his head. “Nothing. Nothing at all really. I’m just…” he trails off and stares at him. Okay, maybe trapping Eddie in a small bathroom with him wasn’t his great idea. Half of him feels bad for making Eddie probably feel trapped, and the other half is chanting kiss him, kiss him, kiss him…

“Steve.”

Steve breaks out of his thoughts quickly and blurts out, “Do you like Jonathan?”

Eddie’s jaw drops, and Steve slaps a hand over his mouth before slowly dropping it to his hip and raising his eyebrows. He’s not backing down from this.

“No,” Eddie answers. He crosses his arms. “Would it be a problem if I did?”

“Yes,” Steve says without thinking. But when Eddie’s eyes widen in fear, he’s quick to say, “No! No! It wouldn’t be a problem if you liked men. It would be a problem if you liked Jonathan.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair and lets out a deep breath. “Okay, that also came out wrong. What I’m trying to say is… you should like me- no. Actually. You shouldn’t be forced to like me or be told to-”

“Steve.”

Steve nods again. He needs to get back on track. "I like you." Shit, maybe that's a little too much on track, but there's no taking it back now.

Eddie stares at him in disbelief.

"Romantically," Steve clarifies.

Eddie turns to sit on the toilet lid while he stares up at Steve. He takes a deep breath and asks, "Do you know why I've been huddled with Jonathan today?"

Steve shakes his head. Please, don't let this be another rejection.

"Because Will noticed the way I look at you. He told me his brother has always been supportive, so if I ever needed someone to talk to about my crush, I could go to him."

Steve runs a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of what he's saying.

Eddie stands up and steps forward. "I've been complaining to Jonathan all day about my damn crush on you because I never thought you would like me back."

"Oh," Steve replies, unsure of what else to say.

"Yeah, oh," Eddie says and narrows his eyes. "Shit, are you messing with me?"

"No!" Steve says quickly, "No, I just really want to kiss you."

Eddie nods and bounces a bit on his feet. "Okay."

"Okay?" Steve asks, taking a step closer.

"Okay," Eddie says, moving forward quickly to gently kiss him.

"Finally!" a voice shouts on the other side of the door, causing Steve and Eddie to jump back.

Steve pinches his nose before storming to the door where he can hear several people on the other side shushing someone who is most likely Dustin. He yanks it open and finds everyone standing on the other side, guiltily looking at him.

"Don't give us that look, we've been waiting for you to realize for weeks!" Dustin yells.

Steve crosses his arms. "What do you mean 'weeks'? I literally found out today."

"It's been kind of obvious," Max says with a shrug.

Steve's jaw drops.

"I have to agree," Nancy chimes in. Which is totally uncool of her.

"Wait, you've all known for weeks, but I, Steve's best friend, had no clue along with him?"

Nancy looks at Robin. "Says the one who had no clue that I liked you after I dropped hints for days. You're terrible at reading when people have crushes, sweetheart."

Robin flushes red and groans.

Eddie steps up behind Steve and wraps an arm around his waist. "And when did you guys figure out my crush on Steve?"

"When you first met honestly, you're not subtle," Max says. Everyone chimes in to agree.

"And you were going to fill in neither of us?" Steve asks.

"You would've both denied it, plus it was more fun this way," Dustin replies. Steve gives him a look, and he holds up his hands. "Sorry."

Steve turns to Eddie. "Who should we fight first?"

"Dustin," Eddie states, voicing Steve's exact thoughts.

"Agreed," Steve says before taking off after Dustin.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Dustin yells as he sprints down the hall and out the front door.

It only takes a few seconds before Steve and Eddie are able to corner Dustin each of them pulling the terrified kid into a quick hug.

"Are you two going to be insufferable from now on?" Dustin asks, clearly annoyed.

"Absolutely," Steve and Eddie both say.

And Steve intends to fulfill that promise forever.

[madelynraemunson]

Married au with Rockstar!Eddie where he's just a man STARVED when he goes home from tour. LIKEEEE, he's just a needy husband in need of reader's loving and he's been lacking just that for months now ☹️☹️☹️ (please the Eddie brainrot is consuming my every being.)

☆ The Crawl ☆

rockstar!eddie munson x housewife!afab!reader

CW: 18+ obvs, needy, pathetic sub eddie, dom-ish afab reader, dick riding, cum eating, dirty talkin’ nasty goodness, eddie literally crawling towards us 🫠🫠, facial, implied unprotected p in v sex, dribbler!eddie

author's note: this is my first time writing sub!dribbler!eddie hehehe eds is usually a dom!shooter in my universe. i hope you all enjoy!!! 💌

WC: 686 words

“Need you to have your way with me, sweetheart…need you to use me…Can’t take it anymore. Please."

You meet your husband's desperate gaze as he brushes his stiff cock against your thighs, prodding you for the sensual loving you had promised him when he was to come back from tour.

Craving every inch of your touch, the man is at your mercy. And that damn polaroid picture you sent him a few days ago? The damn polaroid of that pretty pussy of yours, your glistening folds spread apart by your perfectly manicured fingers, the white border holding space for the title, “all for you” signed by your rouge red lipstick? Eddie damn near kicked the tour bus driver out his seat to turn the vehicle back around himself.

But, of course, the show had to go on. And as stoked as Eddie was for Corroded Coffin's Rise of Kas Tour, nothing compares to being with you, wrapped up in your intimacy in the comfort of the home you two share.

And now 385 days later, you two are here.

“Need you to ride me dry…” he pleads. “Need both lips on my cock baby, he’s missed you so much…”

“Nuh uh,” you smirk, enjoying yourself just a little. “Not gonna do away with the flatteries just yet.”

“Fucking please, princess,” Eddie begs. “Been blue-balled all tour, you can’t do this to me.”

“Oh but I can.”

Hellbent and greedy, your smitten, pussy starved husband treads hopelessly towards you on all fours as you guide him to the bedroom.

Too many press photos and interviews. Too many groupies lining up outside the tour bus to claim their spots with Gareth, Grant, and Jeff. And far too many titties to sign, but Eddie knows he shouldn’t refuse, cuz since he built his brand off being a sex-crazed rockstar, rejecting the ladies would mark the end of his — very successful — career.

Too much of tour life on repeat. And never enough of you. And when he finally gets you, the whining only seems to intensify.

Your twinkling, cum-coated tits bounce in Eddie's face as you frantically taunt your clit with his wide, veiny cock. The sight of you tossing your head back, a mewling mess as he splits you open is enough to tug orgasms out of Eddie’s blissfully aching body. And as you clench around him, screams getting louder by the pump, his spewing tip begins to twitch with every jab into your guts.

“Oh baby…shit, mmfuck, ‘m so fucking sensitive baby, you have no idea.”

Your excitement pools at the base of his naval. Knowing he's not going to last all that long, Eddie whimpers at the sight, his photographic conscious saving the episodic eye-sore for a midday work flashback.

“I love you so much,” he moans. Your orgasm begins to splash around him with every bounce. "Missed your beautiful face. Missed your tight fucking pussy."

“I love you, sweet boy,” you hum. “Your dick makes me feel so good, Eddie, fuck. You’re not going anywhere.”

Eddie releases one strained groan before he loses control. Now completely shifting the roles, Eddie pins you into place as he probes for his finish, thrusting into you as the sweat rushes down his body, his full sack beating at your skin as you ride out your last together.

“Fuck baby, yes baby, yes baby,” he pants. “Gonna be the death of me baby, oh fuck…”

And before he completely empties himself in you, Eddie retreats and finishes on your face. He beams down at you in awe as he glazes the hollows of your cheeks, glosses your lips, and caters to the tip of your cum-quenched tongue. Eddie then swoops down to collect his own eager laps, before thanking you with a kiss.

And, to your surprise, when all is said and done, and you’re all wiped down with a nice warm washcloth from the dryer, your husband books it to his office as if there were something else waiting for him behind that door.

“Eds,” you wonder. “What are you doing?”

“I need to write a song.”

[bimbobaggins69]

Fooled round & fell in love

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you’re in love with your best friend but your best friend thinks love is for losers, choosing to sleep around rather than settle down. You’ve had enough and you’re ready to move on from your feelings, luckily you find someone who might make that possible but does Eddie really hate love as much as he leads on?

warnings: fuck boy eddie, afab reader, cursing, eventual smut, might drag this friends to lovers thing out as much as I can or maybe reader will end up with Randy, who knows?

A/N: this is my first fic ever so be nice 🥹👉🏻👈🏻please reblog and comment it would mean everything to me. Also, got the idea of Randy’s name from randy rhoads 🖤

Thank you @myobmaya for reading this and giving me tips before posting.

“Oh my god! Fuck, I’m so sorry!” You screeched out over the loud music playing in your best friends van.

You slammed the door, still trying to take in what you had just seen, tears forming in your eyes and that familiar feeling of jealousy twisting at your insides. You decide to not torture yourself any longer and instead of going back in to the seedy bar with the rest of your friends you start your long stride home, unlucky for you, your walk is accompanied by racing thoughts of your best friend on top of some groupie. You’re not stupid, you know Eddie is a slut, he all but brags to you about his recent conquests, but you’ve never been faced with it like this, and even though you’re hopelessly in love with him, you can’t help but feel guilty for your feelings.

You and Eddie have been best friends since middle school when he was awkward and had that damn buzz cut. You had fallen in love with him sophomore year, you two had been almost inseparable but at that time he was also gaining a bit of a reputation as a “man whore” if you will

he enjoyed sleeping with different girls but always insisted love and relationships just weren’t for him, so of course you would do everything you could to hide your feelings, last thing you would want to do is fuck up your friendship and you’ve made yourself believe having Eddie in your life in any form is enough, but you’re not so sure about that anymore.

After making your way home from the hideout you decide you need a shower and some sleep, and to just forget about all this bullshit that won’t stop swirling around in your head. But of course not even a hot shower can help you cleanse your mind of that picture. You tell yourself you have no right to be jealous or angry, you’re not his girlfriend and never will be, but it still hurts.

After your shower you throw on some pajamas, brush your hair, put your Rainbow tape in your Walkman and blast stargazer until you drifted off to sleep.

It’s been two days since you talked to Eddie which wasn’t completely out of the norm being that you’ve graduated and it’s summer you don’t see him regularly like you’re use to but this is the longest you’ve gone without hearing his voice as you usually talk to him nightly on the phone. He’s called a few times but you had your mom tell him you weren’t home. You just can’t deal with any of it right now and you know if you see him you’ll let your feelings for him slip and mess up everything. So for now you’re sitting in bed listening to music, all you wanna do at the moment is get high and forget these feelings you can’t seem to shake but you usually get your weed from Eddie and that’s just not an option at the moment, as you physically shake that idea from your head, you remember someone else that can help supply you with what you need.

As you walk up to the front door of the familiar house you’ve come to many times as Eddie re-upped on his supply.

You take a deep breathe before you knock, a little uncomfortable given the fact that every time you did come with Eddie, Rick insisted on being flirty and a little handsy with you, but you were desperate for something to just ease your mind and relax you.

After three tentative knocks the door swings open.

“Y/n?” “Long time no see, what can I do for you?”

He looks around behind you, you think he’s probably looking for Eddie since you’ve never come here alone but you don’t give it a second thought.

You walk in and notice a couple guys sitting at the dining room table probably doing a quick deal too, you recognize them from school but they had long graduated before you. One of them catches your eye, you’ve definitely seen him around, he’s got long blonde curly hair, an Angel Witch band tee on, some dark blue jeans and high top adidas. Of course you’re fawning over another metal head “what the fuck is wrong with me?” You think to yourself. But before you give it anymore thought the man turns to you and says

“hey, aren’t you Eddie’s girl?”

You physically cringe at that.

“Um, n-no I’m not, w-we’re just friends”

“Really fucking smooth!” You internally scream at yourself.

He flashes you the most beautiful smile that makes your stomach flutter

“Oh! Good, good”

You’re kind of confused with that because, why is that good? But you don’t question it.

After Rick hands you your dime bag and you hand him the money you give a quick “thanks” as you turn around and walk out the door shutting it and walking down the drive way

when you get halfway down, you hear the door open and someone call your name.

“Hey, Y/n!”

You turn around to see that same beautiful smile that makes his eyes slant a bit, you swear this man could be Robert Plant and Dave mustaine’s love child “god was he gorgeous” you thought.

You raise your eyebrows as they disappear behind your bangs with a small wave and a side smile, could you be anymore awkward?

He puts his hand out and says “I’m Randy”

You already knew his name as he was three grades above you at Hawkins, but he’s definitely gotten a lot hotter after high school.

You smile and say “yeah we went to Hawkins together, but you were a senior when I was a freshman.”

He nods “yeah, yeah I know, just wasn’t sure if you did. So anyways, I was wondering if I could get your number and maybe we could hang out sometime?”

You return the wide smile as you try your best to stay calm and collected “y-yeah, that would be cool, but I don’t have a pen.” You say with slight disappointment

“Oh shit, um I think I have one in my car” He says as he turns around heading to the red Pontiac firebird, your jaw drops for a second because holy shit, his car is almost as sexy as him!

He turns around shaking the pen in his hand, like he’s just won some kind of prize, that makes you chuckle a bit.

He hands you the pen and his arm for you to scribble your number on, when you’re finished you give him a flirty little smirk as you say “I’ll talk to you later”

You turn around to start your way back home, but as you start he stops you again.

“Did you walk here?”

You nod

“Yeah, but it’s no big deal, I don’t live too far.”

He looks you up and down and then shakes his head “Get in, I’ll give you a ride.”

“You really don’t have to” you spit out

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to” he says while nodding his head over to his car silently telling you to get in.

You decide the best way to get over Eddie is by spending time with someone new, okay maybe not the most logical idea but anything’s better than being alone with your thoughts at the moment

and Randy seemed sweet and charming, possibly the perfect enough candidate to help you move on.

It’s been two weeks and you’ve successfully avoided Eddie Munson at all costs. He’s called, he’s dropped by your house and you’ve had your mom consistently tell him you just haven’t been home much lately. Half of that is true.

You’ve been on three dates with Randy so far, and you really hit it off, he’s really sweet, and super funny but that little nagging in your brain keeps telling you “he’s not Eddie!” and “he’ll never be Eddie!” You can’t help it you’ve been in love with him for 3 and half years now, and you’re only human

but you think you can learn to fall for Randy and maybe even eventually those feelings will over shadow the ones you have for Eddie

only time will tell, but for now you just want to have fun.

So here you are getting ready for a party Randy had invited you to, it was a mutual friend of Randy and Ricks so you knew there was a strong possibility Eddie would also be there as he never turned down an opportunity to get some fast cash.

You decided you wanted to look hot, hotter than hot! So you threw on something you never had the balls to leave the house in, a long bell sleeved shirt that tied in the front exposing lots of skin, you paired it with a black pleated skirt and some black thigh high socks and some chunky ankle boots. You did your makeup natural but with some winged liner and lashes, you took your hair out of the curlers and shook your head upside down a couple times trying to elicit the most amount of body before spraying it with hairspray and finally spritzing yourself with some perfume.

You never went out of your way to get yourself this ready, but you loved it, made you feel kind of empowered in a way.

By the time you were fully finished getting ready you heard a knock at the door and since no one was home you rushed downstairs to answer it, but it was not who you were expecting.

“Y/N?!” Eddie said while looking you up and down with an unreadable expression on his face

“Eddie? What are you doing here?”

You asked wide eyed and with a slight annoyed edge to your voice

“You’ve been avoiding me!”

He says while pushing his way inside your house

“I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve been busy”

A little lie, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Busy doing what?” He looks you up and down again

“I’ve been seeing someone, and we’ve been hanging out a lot recently, he’s actually on his way here right now, so you should probably go”

Eddie looks like a kicked puppy for a quick second but tries to fight it off before you can see by putting on a fake smile

“Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”

As soon as those words leave his mouth you hear a car pull up in your driveway, you know it’s Randy and you really wanted to avoid this whole interaction for a little bit longer, but it was no use now.

You ignore Eddie and decide to just let him see who it is for himself. Eddie knew who Randy was, they were acquaintance’s at best, but never enough to call each other friends, plus Randy was older and cooler than Eddie, or atleast that’s how Eddie felt.

So when he finally knocked on the door and you answered it, he stood there with flowers in hand looking at you all bug eyed, taking you all in with his mouth hanging open. Eddie let out a low scoff, almost low enough for you not to catch but you did.

If you would’ve let yourself you would’ve overthought that scoff until your head hurt

Because what the hell is his problem? he has no reason to feel any type of way about anyone you choose to talk to, after you’ve sat back and heard him talk about girl after girl, he had no right to say anything about Randy!

“Hey Eddie, what’s up?” Randy says

Eddie just tilts his head up slightly to give him a silent “what’s up” and then turns his attention back on you

But you turn around taking the flowers out of Randy’s hand and giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“These are beautiful, babe! Thank you”

Eddie visibly cringes at the pet name.

You didn’t see it but Randy definitely did, so just to rile him up a bit more Randy tells you

“You look fucking incredible, baby! Maybe we should just skip the party and go back to my place?”

He says with a joking edge to his voice. You and Randy have gone to second base but have not gone all the way yet and you were maybe hoping tonight would be the night

You really just wanted to get over Eddie and you thought by sleeping with Randy you’d have a better chance, so you and him have talked about it and even had phone sex a couple nights ago, so what he said wasn’t completely out of left field but it made you feel weird him saying it in front of Eddie, even though you literally walked in on Eddie and some girl fucking a couple weeks ago.

God you’ve done everything you can to get that image out of your head, just for it to be brought right back

“But I’m really excited for the party!” You say with your best doe eyes.

“Oh you guys are going to Eric’s party?” Eddie interrupts while standing there looking rather awkward

“Yeah we are, are you?” You ask

“Um, yeah I was gunna stop buy for an hour or so just to sell, make some quick cash, ya know?”

Eddie says while scratching the back of his neck

You nod.

“Well I guess we’ll see you there” Randy says trying to end the weird tension.

Eddie looks at you one last time with the same expression as earlier, almost like longing mixed with a hint of jealousy. But you’re a chronic over thinker and professional self doubter so that’s probably not it at all.

part 2

[steveshairychest]

"Do you think you'd love me in every universe?"

The question is whispered into the dark against Steve's neck. The hand wrapped around Steve's waist holds him tighter, and lips brush against his neck as another question is whispered sleepily.

"Do you think there's another Steve and Eddie out there right now in some other universe that are just as in love as we are?"

Steve hums and pulls Eddie closer, his hand tracing mindless patterns on Eddie's back as he thinks, not that he has to. He knows that every version of himself would struggle not to fall for Eddie. He knows that there's a million other Steve's out there also hopelessly in love with a nerdy metalhead.

"I think so. I hope every version of me gets to fall in love with you." He presses a kiss to the top of Eddie's head and feels his boyfriend smile against his neck, a happy sigh slips from his lips as he tries to move even closer to Steve even though they are practically moulded together.

"I'm glad I found you in this universe." Eddie's voice is soft and only just heard over the loud tick of Steve's ceiling fan. He hopes that in another universe, his fan isn't so obnoxiously loud.

"I'd find you in every universe." Is the last thing Steve says before he's lulled to sleep by Eddie's steady breathing and the tick of the fan.

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Nobody Needs to Know

Pairing: EddiexFemReader

Request: eddie x henderson fem!reader having sex and dustin catches them 🫣

No worries. Dustin doesn't see anything. I could never traumatize that sweet kid like that. He just surmises what happened after the fact. I took a little liberty with the story since this was all I had to go on. 😉

18+ ONLY

Your fingers wrapped around the folded piece of paper that had been slipped into your locker, a tight lipped smile crossing your face, knowing exactly who had slipped it in there. You unfolded the lined notebook paper, reading the handwriting that had become so familiar these past months. 

Meet me in the janitor’s closet

Eyes darting around you to make sure no one else noticed, you slammed your locker shut, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. Your feet hurried, heart pounding, your body eager to get there even as your head was telling you this was stupid. You were going to get caught. You couldn’t keep sneaking around with him like this, but fuck if it didn’t make it that much hotter. 

You glanced around once again to make sure no one was around and pushed the door of the closet open. It was pitch black but you were hesitant to turn on a light, not wanting the beam to shine under the door and give away that someone was in here. You paused, holding your breath, wondering if you’d made a mistake when a hand shot out, grabbing onto your wrist. In one swift motion, your other wrist was grabbed, hands pinned above you, your back pressed against the door. 

“You’ve been driving me fucking crazy in that little skirt, princess,” a low voice rumbled in your ear and you pressed your thighs together as desire pulsed through your center. “Sitting there in math class, tapping that pencil, crossing your legs…all that skin…”

“That sounds like your problem,” you managed, attempting to sound more in control than you felt at that moment. “Maybe you need to work on your self control, Eddie. Don’t you have enough girly mags at home to help care for your poor little male urges.”

“Oh, we’re mouthy today, huh? Let’s shut you up, shall we?”

His mouth collided with yours, a mashing of tongue, lips, and teeth as he circled your wrists with the fingers of one hand. The other was sliding up your skirt, along the skin of your inner thigh. You moaned, pressing toward him and he chuckled. 

“Not so mouthy when it’s your urges that need taking care of, are you?”

“For the love of Christ, shut up. All you do is…” you muttered but were quickly cut off by the whimper that fell from your lips as Eddie’s fingers dipped under the side of your panties, running teasingly along your slit. 

You and Eddie had been sneaking around for two months, meeting in his van, the drama room, the janitor’s closet, the spot in the woods where he always met people to make his sales. It started as a drunken mistake and spiraled from there because no matter how much you told yourself that this was bad idea, that you needed to stop, your body fucking craved him. He was a drug and you were hopelessly addicted. 

Two of his fingers pressed into you and you bit your bottom lip hard to keep from announcing to the whole school that you were getting finger fucked by Eddie Munson. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were in the band. You were top in your class. You had big plans to go to law school after graduation, having gotten into one of the top colleges in the country. Eddie was a horrible distraction you didn’t need but damn it, you wanted it. Not to mention he was your brother, Dustin’s, best friend and that was just awkward as hell. Dustin would never shut up about it if he knew what was going on. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No insults to throw my way,” Eddie teased, curling his fingers, making your legs shake. “No. You can put me down all you want, princess, but at the end of the day, you keep coming back because you want this. You love all the dirty little things I do to your body.” His tongue painted a line along the side of your neck, his thumb making circles around your clit. “You want my fingers pressed inside you, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted, chest rising and falling with heaving breaths. 

“You want my mouth all over your skin…”

“I do…” you whispered, your head falling to the side as he licked and nipped at the flesh on your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah, you do…” His fingers left you and in the pitch black, you heard the sound of his belt buckle as he undid it. You heard the familiar crinkle of the condom wrapper and something deep within you coiled tightly in anticipation. Eddie hooked under your knee with his arm, opening you fully to him. “And you fucking love when my cock is buried deep within this pussy. Come on, princess. Use that mouth to tell me how badly you want this.”

Your breath caught, body wound like a goddamn rubber band, just ready to snap. You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but damn it, you wanted him. You wanted him to take you hard and fast in this closet and he knew it. Eddie had caught on pretty quickly that you wanted this just as badly as he did. 

“I mean…if you don’t want it…” he said slowly, his arm slipping out from under your leg.

“Fuck…I hate you,” you growled. 

“You might hate me but you don’t hate the things I do to you.” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, picturing that little crooked smile. 

He had no idea how right he was, how many times you’d laid in your bed imagining it was him touching you. He had no idea how often you snuck glances at him throughout the day, drumming his pencils and doodling in class, his loud antics in lunch, the way he sauntered through the hallway, all that wild hair billowing behind him. Eddie Munson had consumed you in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

“Fine, you want me to say it?” you relented. “I want your cock, Eddie. I fucking love your cock and I want you to fuck me right up against this door until I can’t walk straight.”

“My pleasure, sweetheart.”

He held your leg and slammed into you forcefully, rattling the bottles on the shelves. You let out a cry of pleasure before remembering you were in school. Eddie’s free hand clamped over your mouth as he sent your body smashing against the wood of the door again and again. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Eddie demanded and all you could do with his hand over your mouth was nod. “Yeah. You put on a show for everyone else, the sweet good girl who never breaks the rules but you only let me see the real you, don’t you? The dirty, feral little beast inside that wants to break loose.”

You’d been with guys before but none of them had ever been like Eddie. They went through the motions, fumbling with your bra, fingers prodding you but never finding the right spots. Eddie found the right spots every damn time. You worked so hard to be what your parents expected, what your teachers expected, what this whole damn down expected. The only time you really felt like you could let go, like you could stop trying so hard, was when you were with him. He brought out a side of you that you hadn’t even known existed.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he lifted your leg higher, allowing him to go deeper. He slowed the pace, keeping you on the edge but not quite letting you tumble off just yet. Your leg shook beneath you and you gripped Eddie’s shoulders to keep from falling to the floor. 

“Come on princess…it’s just me and you in here. You don’t have to pretend with me. Let that freak flag fly, baby. Just let go for me,” Eddie urged. “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”

A scream clawed its way from your throat, the only thing stopping it from ringing through the hall of Hawkins was Eddie’s hand muffling the sound. Your nails dug into his flesh as your orgasm ripped through you, sending shockwaves of pleasure from your head to your toes that had your whole body humming, vibrating with ecstasy and relief. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, never ceasing his thrusting, his hand leaving your mouth to grip your other hip, helping you stay upright as he followed, fingertips leaving marks on your skin. “Fuck…”

Eddie slid from inside you and you heard the thunk of the condom as he tossed it in the trash can. You moved to reach for your panties but he was already there, pulling them up your legs. His hands came to either side of your head, caging you in. 

“What the hell are you doing?” you asked. “You got what you wanted.”

“Nah, not everything,” Eddie replied and his lips were on your skin again. But this was different. It wasn’t urgent and demanding. It was soft and affectionate, completely throwing you off balance.

“Seriously…” you said softly, a nervous laugh bubbling up within you. “Eddie, what are you doing?”

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“Go out with me,” he repeated. “Look, I know all this cloak and dagger shit has been fun, but I want more. I want to take you out for a damn burger. I want to see a movie with you. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and leave you notes in your locker that aren’t just meetup time for secret sex. I mean, I still want to do that too but I want more than just this…what do you think?”

“I…Eddie…” you began, your brain struggling to catch up to what was happening.

“Just forget it,” he huffed, pushing off the door and away from you. “I get it. It’s fun to have the freak as your dirty little secret but you don’t actually want anyone to know you’d sink that low, right?”

“No. That’s not what I…”

“Seriously, it’s fine. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Of course the perfect little straight As princess doesn’t want to get dirty dating the drug dealing loser.”

He wrenched open the door, almost knocking you over in the process. You darted after him but you both stopped at the sight of Dustin Henderson. He was leaning against the wall, a shit eating grin on his face as he took in the sight of the two of you, hair probably a mess, coming out of the janitor’s closet together.

“Holy shit! I knew it!” he yelled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I mean, I didn’t but I knew something was going on! You two have been so weird lately! Wait! Were you two…oh gross!”

“Shut it Henderson!” Eddie growled, shoving past him. 

“Eddie…” you began but he was flying down the hall, moving as quickly away from you as he could. 

“Oh damn…did I interrupt a lover’s quarrel or something?” asked Dustin. 

“Or something…” you muttered, grabbing your backpack from the floor of the closet and trudging off to History, needing to get away from your nosy ass brother before he could give you the third degree. It felt appropriate because that was what you and Eddie appeared to be now, history.

[darlingdekarios]

buffet.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 3,146 content: Eddie Brock/Venom x f!reader, symbiote involvement, is this technically a threesome?, tentacles, smut [v fingering, unprotected p in v, alien tentacles & tongue, double penetration, receiving oral]

the only kind of sharing Eddie Brock will agree to.

It was really only a matter of time before something like this happened. After months of a casual fling with Eddie Brock – quick meetups in your office at work had evolved into hours spent between the sheets of your bed, which had turned into nights of him crawling into his bed beside you. The frequency that flowers came to your office signed with his name had increased, his visits to bring you lunch nearing every day – the other people who worked at the paper with you had their assumptions. And yet, despite the obviously growing intensity between the two of you, there had never been an official name put on whatever was transpiring.

But tonight, the two of you had escalated things by going to a very public press fundraiser together. It was the kind of event Eddie hated – everyone in their fancy suits and dresses, signing checks not to be good people but to make others think they were so, the sticks shoved firmly up their asses as they ate overly-expensive and shitty food. While most of the people present got an idea of the situation when you arrived arm-in-arm with him, the irresistible allure of every dip and curve in your body in your sleek black dress had pulled in attention you didn’t want – or need.

It was Eddie’s final thread snapping that had changed the evening. While you were speaking with one of your old colleagues, his eyes had lingered downward far too long for his taste, and he had put the man in his place with a raised voice. Veins protruding in his temples and neck, Eddie had openly chastised the man for being so indecent toward you, and in doing so confirmed what most of the people in the room already knew – he was hopelessly in love with you. You’d watched on, cheeks pink as you bit into your bottom lip, watching him loudly stake a claim over you that you had to wonder exactly when he’d began to feel entitled to it – not that you had any arguments to present.

It wasn’t a surprise when the two of you were escorted out and refused a car service home due to the scene he’d caused, and so you found yourselves walking through the park to return to whichever apartment was closest. The chilled air was helping to simmer the anger that was boiling in him, and yet he was still walking with an intensity that quickened his step, his breaths coming out in frustrated huffs. Once you were fully removed from the lights and sounds of the ongoing party behind you, one of your hands found its way to grip his shoulder, steadying his movements for a moment. Slipping your hands around his middle you pressed yourself to his back in a gentle hug, your cheek leaning against the leather of his jacket that was warm thanks to the heat he was giving off.

“I’ve never seen you like that over me, Eddie,” you purred, using a quiet voice to soothe him into the relaxation you knew you could bring him to. His large hands came to rest over yours on his stomach, a deep breath releasing from his chest with another huff.

“I’m sorry to embarrass you like that, baby,” he relented, his hands giving yours a light squeeze. His voice was hoarse, rough from the shouting he’d been doing not long before, and yet you knew him well enough to hear the hidden worry his voice carried – he didn’t want you to be angry for hastening the end of your first real night out together. “I didn’t mean to yell, I just…couldn’t handle the way he was looking at you. I didn’t fucking like how anyone there was looking at you, like I wasn’t even there. Like I wasn’t right fucking there.”

“You weren’t the one in the wrong, and I don’t think there’s any question about who I was there with now, Eddie,” you cooed quietly, sympathetic to his rising anger, knowing you could truly subside it whenever you wished. “And you don’t need to be sorry to me. I…will never complain about seeing you that way…for me.”

And at the same time you were coaxing him into a calm lull, the symbiote attached to him was in his mind, its words infused with something primal. 

She likes when we show possession of her, Eddie. We can smell it on her.

 Eddie turned himself then, his arms wrapping to hold you against him firmly as his eyes searched for yours in the pale moonlight. His mind less clouded in anger now, he took in the red hue to your cheeks, the way your bottom lip had already begun to swell due to your repeated biting, the way your eyes had begun to darken – this was a look he was familiar with, a look he coveted. His lips curved upward into a smirk, a look you also knew – a look that meant he’d finally relaxed enough to catch on. The hoarse gavel to his voice did nothing to satiate the flaming heat in your own stomach.

“Seeing me what way for you?” he inquired, the answer already running through his mind. His hands found your lower back, pushing you forward into him so you could relish in his heat. One of his hands slid to grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up toward his as he bent downward to lightly rub his nose against yours. “You like seeing me get possessive over you, pretty girl? Does it get you all hot and bothered to see me lose my mind over you?”

Pulling your lip between your teeth again you could only bring yourself to nod, quiet breaths increasing in pace embarrassingly quickly as he leveraged his proximity to you by allowing his lips to brush against yours. He loved to see how flustered you were for him – even Venom continued to mentally remark how you looked for them – but you knew what he truly wanted from you. Miraculously, you found your voice, nothing for than a quiet murmur against his lips.

“You look sexy when you’re angry like that, yeah…but what really made me hot was you getting so possessive over me,” you whispered, lips brushing his with feather-light movements as you spoke. His hold on your chin became firmer, his hand at your back slipping to grasp your hip. “Almost like you think I’m yours or somethin’.”

The taunt was intentional, he knew that, and responded in kind by slotting his lips against yours, beginning to pull you with him as he stepped backward repeatedly to disappear into the trees. Returning his kiss, you quickly found your tongue entering a dance with his, his hand sliding to cup your cheek into its warmth. When he felt there were enough trees between the two of you and the path, he pulled away from your kiss carefully, shrugging his jacket free of his shoulders as he went.

“You are mine, I guess maybe I need to do a better job at showing you that,” he teased, his lips connecting with yours again as he began to cover your back and shoulders with his jacket. Backing you into a tree he leaned down closer to you, testing how sturdy the thick trunk appeared to be. “But I know you like it, because Venom says it can smell how fucking wet you are because of it. I didn’t know you wanted to be mine so bad, you could’ve asked nicely, you know?”

“Eddie, Jesus, you talk so fucking much sometimes,” you whimpered, your complaint pulling a laugh from him as he began to trail kisses across your jaw. Your fingers bunched into his shirt on his chest, pulling him closer as you sought to rub your core against his thigh for any amount of friction you could get. His hands began to pull at your dress, bunching it up until he held most of the skirt at your hips, shifting his leg between yours to knock them apart.

“Try to keep quiet, pretty girl,” he whispered when his lips reached your ear, sucking into the delicate skin beneath your ear immediately after before he began to sink to his knees in front of you. “I’d hate to have one of those stuck-up assholes ruin our fun.”

Before you could question his intent, he leaned forward, running his soft lips along the inside of your thigh, inhaling deeply as each of his instincts screamed for him to. Keeping one hand on the fabric of your dress he reached the other to push your delicate underwear to the side, immediately diving into your wet folds with his tongue to test for himself how wet you were. Groaning on at the familiar honey-sweetness of your arousal his hand slipped to lift one of your legs over his shoulder, lapping against you as though it was all that had been on his mind for hours.

A quiet moan slipped from your lips, your head leaning back to the tree as your eyes rolled back – a good thing considering the mere sight of him on his knees for you was enough to make you scream. As his lips sucked against your swollen clit he slipped his hand back to your ass, squeezing firmly before running his tongue downward again. Fucking his tongue into you he released another groan before pulling away, placing kisses along the insides of your thighs.

“You taste so good,” he cooed, his murmured words of appreciation striking into you deeply, pulling another quiet moan from you. “All that fancy fucking food at that dinner tonight and not a single thing tasted this good.”

We want a taste, Eddie.

 The low rumbling voice, no matter how familiar it had become in the last several months, always sent a shiver down your spine. Even the symbiote was conscious of the situation and desperate not to ruin it, quieting its voice to much lower volumes than normal – though only for the benefit of the humans, as if it were left to the alien, it would cherish your moans bouncing off the trees. Eddie licked another desperate line between your folds, flicking his tongue against his clit as he savored every drop of you he could. His voice was husky when he finally found it.

“I’m not the one to ask, V,” he explained, his hand pushing against your backside to encourage your core to his face where his tongue waited again. “I’m not so sure if she’s ready for that.”A cold, slick and slightly barbed tongue licked a surprisingly solemn stripe along the inside of your thigh, chasing the path Eddie had taken minutes ago now. Goosebumps raised across your skin, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your eyes shot open to confirm the sight for yourself. Venom, careful not to anger Eddie, stilled its movements on your thigh as Eddie fucked his tongue into your warm channel again. Your fingers found Eddie’s hair, tangling into the soft locks to steady yourself as you nodded your head weakly, struggling to find words appropriate for the situation you found yourself in.

“You…you’re both part of one another,” you replied, words shaking as you fought to consent through the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Eddie could feel Venom reaching out to every inch of his body, soaking in the desire every part of them felt. As you managed to nod your head you found words within yourself again. “I don’t want to keep myself from any part of you. Go…ahead, V.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open in brief shock before he reached to connect it with your clit again, sucking against the swollen nib gently as the tongue on your thigh reached higher now. The cool, wet muscle eagerly reached for your dripping hole, experimentally swirling the tip around your entrance. When they were rewarded with the sweetest moan they’d ever heard a groan rumbled in Eddie’s chest, his own tongue flicking against your clit as Venom’s tongue slipped into your cunt, far deeper than any human could hope to reach. As Venom began to swirl its tongue inside you Eddie continued his attention on your clit, reaching his hand that didn’t grasp fabric at your waist to force his pants down, freeing his straining cock with a rough slap against his stomach.

The pressure built in your stomach impossibly full as your legs began to shake, Eddie’s teeth nibbling your clit gently as Venom continued familiarizing its own tongue with the taste of you. It wasn’t long before you had to throw your head back again, a tidal wave of pleasure washing through your body as your orgasm gushed through you, the majority finding its way to Eddie’s mouth – he wouldn’t be the one to waste a drop.

Once content with how clean he’d ensured your folds were, Eddie began to raise himself back up, pressing greedy kisses to any part of your torso that was exposed to him. As Venom’s tongue withdrew from you Eddie hoisted you up, immediately burying his cock to the hilt as he pinned you against himself and the tree, shuddering with a groan as he buried his face in your neck. His strong exterior always melted in those first moments he felt your warmth welcome him in again, and with his face hidden in your neck and eyes squeezed shut he was oblivious to the sleek black tendril that wound itself around your middle, securing you to the tree further so Eddie didn’t have to focus on his hold. You welcomed him home with a moan, as you always did, which encouraged him to give a beginning thrust, grunting into your skin as he began to nibble on the tender skin beneath your ear.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby, my god,” he groaned into your ear, picking up the pace of his thrusts into you. With a particularly perfect thrust the head of his cock knocked against your cervix, eliciting a loud moan from your chest. Another tendril took advantage of your open lips, slipping into your mouth with nodded approval from Eddie. “We told you we gotta stay quiet, baby. Don’t worry, Venom’ll help – be a good girl and suck, love seeing those pretty lips workin’.”

Your moans were muffled by Venom, your glazed over eyes finding Eddie’s as he raised his head to look at you, to confirm that you were following his suggestion. Holding his eye contact and feeling the way your walls clenched him at these new sensations, you began to work your mouth over the perfectly sized appendage. A low, appreciative growl rumbled through the air from the symbiote, Eddie’s thrusts becoming more desperate as he connected his mouth with your neck again, sucking an obvious mark into your skin.

Between grunts he spoke praises, thanking you for how good you were being with your mouth and complimenting how fucking hot you looked for them. Within minutes his thrusts were becoming sloppy, and he took a deep breath to steady himself, unwilling to finish before you could again. Knowing Eddie’s predicament, Venom’s tongue slid carefully up your thigh again before flicking against your clit, mirroring the action it had watched Eddie do many times. Your hips bucked forward into Eddie’s roughly, a deep moan sounding in your chest even passed your stuffed mouth, your eyes rolling back before closing. Eddie reached a hand to cup the side of your face, coaxing you to look at him again with soft words as he began to time his thrusts with the flicks of Venom’s tongue.

“That’s right, pretty girl – keep those eyes on me,” he pleaded, his words broken up between heavy breaths. Though you pushed yourself to remain fixated on his eyes, both of you broke the loving gaze when you felt additional tendrils on your legs, working up your bodies slowly – almost inquisitively. “Venom…wants to make sure we’re both nice and full. You gonna let us?”

You could barely nod, eyes finding Eddie’s again to communicate your consent the best you could with a look. Even if your mouth wasn’t full, you wouldn’t have been able to find the words to describe just how it felt when an intentionally wet tendril prodded at the tight ring of muscle at your backside – nor how it made you feel to see the same was happening to Eddie. Venom worked the tendrils into each of your asses like it had planned to do so for a long time now, like it knew exactly how it needed to enter both of you to make it feel as good as possible.

Venom’s thrusts matched Eddie’s perfectly, its tongue swirling around your clit in a sinful synchrony that had your thighs shaking within minutes. Your hands reached for Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin even past the t-shirt covering him. Eddie’s breaths were ragged, and yet as you’d mentioned before – he just couldn’t bring himself not to speak to you.

“Gonna let me fill you up, perfect girl?” he questioned, his hands finding your hips as he began to relentlessly ram his cock up into you. He took a moment to look down between the two of you, watching how his cock disappeared into your tight walls with each thrust before fixing his gaze on your face again, groaning when you nodded your approval. If it were any other time, he’d want you to be able to speak – but he couldn’t chance the scream he knew you wanted to let rip through you. “Gonna fill you up so much I’m leaking out of you for days,” he promised, followed quickly by another, “and then I’m going to fill you up some more when we get home.”

Your thighs already shaking, you wrapped them around him tighter as you rocked against him, part of your moan slipping past the tendril in your mouth as your eyes rolled back. Your walls clenching around him pulled Eddie’s own release from him, his thick, hot load shooting deep into you as a low groan sounded in his chest along with a string of compliments.

When your shared euphoria had subsided, Venom departed from where it filled you so you could lean forward to claim Eddie’s lips in a kiss, your hands still clutching to his shoulders and body shaking as the pleasure continued to surge through you. Eddie returned your kiss hungrily, slowly pulling himself from you and steadying you back on the ground with his hands on your hips gently. When both of you were redressed, he pulled you back in for another kiss, his lips moving against yours as he spoke a final promise into the night.

“That’s the only kind of sharing you’ll get from me.”

masterlist. marvel masterlist.

[piratefishmama]

i cant believe, with Steve's multiple head injuries, that nobody has done a Steddie 50 first dates inspired thing yet where Steve falls hopelessly in love with this goofy, silly, ridiculously charming man in a day, stars aligned, it always just clicks into place so quickly and he falls, hopelessly fast, like he's found his romantic soulmate.

He remembers his platonic soulmate she was there before the last big concussion left everything after it blank.

He falls in love every single day. And doesnt remember it every single morning after.

Eddie never gives up, cause his favourite thing in the world, something that will never, never get old for him, is watching Steve Harrington's face as he falls in love with him.

It's never not the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life. He'll be a fool for this man every single day for the rest of his life,

As long as he gets the priviledge of seeing that expression as his reward.

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

Big thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing, you really are the best!

Thank you to @bebe07011 for all your encouragement

Thank you to @names-were-taken ... you know what you did.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: road head, breeding kink, daddy!kink, family awkwardness

Authors note: Guys I appreciate all your patience, truly I do. I was so damn busy these last two months, and I barely had the time or the motivation to write. It's more of a filler chapter, we get some good stuff next one. I'm still quite busy, but I got a fire in me to continue this story. Don't worry, I plan on continuing to the end. There's about two or three more chapters planned. As they say: life happens when you're busy making plans.

-

You sit on the couch cross legged, watching a movie under a big blanket with Eddie right next to you. He’s relaxed in the corner, arm sitting on the back cushion as he half pays attention to the movie. You’re telling him about work, some drama between two co-workers that has the entire workplace turned on its head.

Eddie wipes his hands of the butter from his popcorn, finishing a handful before he speaks. “Oh, yeah, one of my apprentices just quit, so I’m interviewing a few guys next week.”

For some reason, it doesn’t occur to you that because Eddie owns the shop, he’s also their boss, and therefore, has to hire and interview people. “Cool.”

Something in your tone forces Eddie’s head to tilt towards you. You see this out of the corner of your eye and break into a wide smile, giggling. “What’s…what’s this about?”

“It’s nothing.” You insist, way too fast for it to not be nothing.

“Ok, now you’ve gotta tell me.” Eddie insists, turning his entire body to face you.

“You’re gonna think it’s dumb.”

“What?” Eddie yelps out in surprise. “Of course I won’t think it’s dumb!”

“Promise you won’t laugh?” You pout.

Eddie sighs, you’re just hopelessly adorable to him. And he’s hopelessly in love. So of course, he says “I promise, I won’t laugh.”

“I just didn’t really think about you owning the shop, meaning that you’re their boss, and you have to do interviews.” You admit, aware of his brown eyes on you. “I never imagined you on the other side of a desk. But…” you stutter, clenching your thighs. “…then I did.” You laugh, embarrassed. “Then I became aware of how fast it took for me to picture it and I smiled.”

It’s a lot for Eddie to process at once. “Wait, so you thought of all of that in those two seconds?” Eddie asks, as an eyebrow rises in astonishment.

You nod, continuing  to munch on your popcorn. “Yeah…”

“…So what did you think of me behind that desk?”  He asks, biting his lip as his voice gets real low. One part of him wants to rile you up, but the other is genuinely curious.

You giggle, watching through half lidded eyes as his lips lean in to kiss you. Your tongues meet sweetly, his darkened stare making you feel drunk on love. “I—” The feeling of your phone buzzing underneath your thigh interrupts you, Eddie sighing as he reluctantly pulls back. “Wait!” you whine.

He chuckles. “Answer your phone. I promise, I’ll be just as curious after.”

Somehow it hasn’t gone to voicemail, yet. Your hand fishes it out from under your leg, the word Mom and her picture illuminating the screen. Fuck. You wince, wishing for three minutes ago when you were breathing in Eddie’s intoxicating scent. Your thumb hesitantly presses the answer button, “Hi, mom.”

“Oh, well you do answer!” There’s a sass in her voice right out the gate, and you instinctively cringe, understanding the type of phone call you’re about to have with her.

“I do work, mom. You happen to keep calling when I’m at work. Then, when I do call you back, you never answer!” You answer, watching Eddie’s brows furrow. It’s the first he’s hearing about this round about game you have with your mom when it comes to phone calls and you’ve never brought it up because the topic alone causes an abundance of stress for you.  “Please tell me why you called, or was it to just yell at me?”

“Oh I’m not yelling.” She dismisses you, not unusual for her, yet you still roll your eyes and grit your teeth in frustration. “I would, however, like to meet your boyfriend…looks like you two are getting serious…your aunts have found your page.”

“So they’ve seen…what? His ankle tattoo?” You ask, referring to the photo where Eddie is just stepping out of frame on purpose. Nothing about your Instagram account is a mistake for the moment, if anything just to spite his ex.

“The walk-in closet.” Your mom answers, and you gotta admit, that arch of a full body mirror in his (your) walk-in has become your favorite place to take a photo for the moment. “Even if I don’t approve, I just want to meet him. Bring him to supper. He can bring some family, if he wants. The more, the merrier!”

This sounds like your own personal version of hell. Judgemental aunties, drunk uncles, annoying cousins, and your mom all with Eddie? Throw him to the wolves, why don’t you? “Mom, why don’t we hold off your sisters for now? Let’s just introduce him to our family, and he can introduce you to his.” You suggest alternatively, barely holding in a laugh as Eddie’s shoulders relax, unashamedly eavesdropping on your conversation, not that you mind.

“You know, they’re not patient women.”

You laugh, nodding your head in full agreement. “Yeah, I know. Neither are you, and neither am I, neither is Viti. Runs in your family.” You roll your eyes.

Eddie nods in agreement, thinking of the initiative you took when he first met you and laughing silently to himself. Then his nose scrunches. Who’s Viti?

You turn to face Eddie as you talk on the phone, trying to make out what he’s mouthing to you. “Just send me a date and a time and I’ll try to get them over there.” What? You mouth back to him.

“Who’s Viti?” He whispers, still confused.

Wait, who’s Viti? You stare at him blankly, holding up a finger to finish the conversation with your mom as she responds. “Uh, I’m working Friday, and Eddie’s working Saturday…is middle of the week undoable?”

You hold the receiver, getting an answer that starts with “Well” is always going to be long-winded before getting to the point with your mom. “Viti is my little sister!” You whisper to Eddie. Upon seeing the genuine look of surprise you can tell he never knew about her.

You put the phone back to your ear, catching the end of “I suppose we could do Wednesday…”

You cover the phone receiver. “Can you get Steve in the state on Wednesday?” Eddie nods wordlessly, no doubt in his mind. “Wednesday works!” You cover the receiver again and remove the phone from your ear as she finishes with a long-winded goodbye. “How did you not know I had a sister?”

Eddie shrugs, also wondering. “Never came up, I guess?”

You consider this answer, recalling any acceptable times to bring it up. “That’s true, I suppose.” You put the phone back to your ear, “So, I’ll see you next Wednesday?”

“See you then! 7pm, don’t be late!”

You hang up your phone, falling backwards on the couch in frustration. “Ugh!”

“Would it be ludicrous to say that that did not kill my boner at all?” Eddie asks, slightly surprised himself.

You laugh, shaking your head as he makes his way back to where you sit on the couch. “Still wanna hear about it?”

He lays you down, nodding as he leans in for a kiss. “Tell me everything, baby.”

-

It’s Wednesday, unfortunately, and you make your way over to your parents’ house, a twenty minute drive down the highway. Yesterday it became evident how nervous Eddie is, dancing around the subject and being more lovey with you than usual, as if that were even possible. Now, he sits with his shoulders locked and face staring dead ahead as he gulps through his nerves. “Baby, are you okay?” You hesitate to ask, but can’t help it.

“Oh, just terrified.” Eddie admits, knowing just how much rides on this one supper. “Something just occurred to me…how…how old is your dad?”

“Oh…” you shift in the passenger seat into a more comfortable position. “I think he’s 53 or 54. I don’t remember which one he turns this year.”  

“Oh, thank god.” Eddie sighs, relieved, closing his eyes momentarily. “If your dad was younger I could only fucking imagine…what a shit show that would’ve been.”

“My mom is the same age as you, now that I think about it.” You say, wondering how that was a detail that hadn’t occurred to you before. “She graduated in 94’, which, correct me if I’m wrong, is the year you would’ve, too.”

“Well, shit.” Eddie mutters. He hasn’t done a meet the parents dinner where he was the one meeting the parent in fucking forever. So long ago, in fact, it was borderline humorous.

For some reason, Eddie seemed to look extra scrumptious, dressed to impress and smelling fantastic. Even as he looks nervous, he looks ten times better than any confident man. “You know what would help you feel better?” You ask, placing a hand on his knee.

You think you might have to be more upfront about it, but just from your tone alone Eddie is tenting his pants.  “What’s that sweetheart?” He asks anyway, playing dumb, wanting to hear you say it.

“If I sucked you off on the way?”

Eddie huffs his lips out, pretending to consider it. Honestly, he can’t even pretend. He breaks into a chuckle. “Put those pretty lips on my cock.”

You smile in satisfaction as you immediately move to unzip Eddie’s nice slacks and slip his cock out. “You’re already hard” You accuse him playfully. It’s such a damn compliment to you.

You’re in a lusted-out haze as you bend over to take him in your mouth, your shoulder awkwardly colliding with the steering wheel. The possibility of anyone passing in a car big enough to see you in Eddie’s clear windowed vehicle was too much of a turn on for you not to dissect it eventually. His cock reaches your throat, the sounds of you gagging on him repeatedly and your muscles twitching around him make him want to tilt his head back and close his eyes.

“Oh she’s just letting herself be fucked in the throat where anyone can see, huh?” Eddie mutters, his free hand moving through your hair. “Showing everyone how good of a slut you are.”

The words certainly help your ambition, and you start to bob up and down on him, sucking the life out of him with your wet slurps.

“Everyone gets a view but no one gets to know but me.” One of your hands start to play with his balls, moving them around as you lick and slobber all over him before pulling back, taking a breath break. Eddie lifts eyes up momentarily, smirking. “Oh you just gave that semi trucker a fucking hard on, baby I hope you know that.”

You glance sideways, your hand still wrapped on Eddie's cock, seeing the tail end of a white semi truck. You smile up at him and continue, the thought of some random dude being jealous of Eddie because of you was cool. You were only the cool girlfriend who likes to give road head because he’s a good boyfriend, anyhow. You hope he knows that.

“That turn you on?” You shake your head, the nuance too much to discuss while his cock still sits in your mouth. “Does him seeing it turn you on?” You smirk at him, taking a breath as your hand moves up and down his length. Now, for the big guns. You accept him to the back of your throat easily, the deep throating becoming one of your favorite past times with him. “Oh I’m gonna—"

You swallow every last drop that he has to offer when he spills into your mouth, almost too much as some dribbles down your chin. No, not too much. Never too much. You collect the dribble and put it in your mouth, licking your fingers clean. You hum in contentment over the salty taste, sitting back in your seat.

“Jesus christ.” Eddie mutters, still gripping the steering wheel with an iron fist. “That certainly made me feel a lot better.”

In hindsight, Eddie was right to feel anxious for it, just not for the reasons anybody could ever reasonably guess.

-

When you get there with five minutes to spare, Dylan and Steve are already in your parent’s driveway, both bearing smiles on their faces as they laugh about something.

Eddie finally finishes buckling himself up once the truck pulls up and you get out right away to distract (and to hug, of course), thanking Steve for making it on such short notice. Out of view, Steve’s SUV passenger door slams shut. “Dad, do you think her parents are as stuffy as she says they are or—” Arlo Harrington stops the moment he notices you’re there.

Eddie was hesitant to extend the offer to Arlo, but after he asked you with the disclaimer that Arlo is his god child and he considers family…it was hard to refuse. While you knew Arlo was going to be there, you just didn’t expect him to be a carbon copy of the version of Steve you saw in the photo on Eddie’s facebook.

Whatever genes are in those Harringtons, those curls run deep, every one of his kids had them from the photos. “Hi, Arlo. Nice to meet you.” You hold out a hand, diffusing the tension.

“Thanks for letting me tag along.” He pulls you in once he grabs your hand to shake it, muttering, “Couldn’t resist a show.”

You pull back, seeing a younger Steve in him. “Damn. This is your kid alright.” You confirm to Steve, letting go of Arlo’s hand.

Steve laughs, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, that’s my son.”

Eddie jogs up behind you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he carries a bottle of white wine. “Look who finally showed up.” Steve announces, wondering if he’s picturing the flush in Eddie’s face.

“Sorry, I needed a minute to gather my courage. We’re 3 minutes past 7, let’s go.” He mutters to you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“God, I’m not going to hear the end of those three minutes, she’ll hold them against me next time she needs something, I just fucking know it.”

Eddie chuckles as he holds your hand and you walk the stone path up to your front porch. Three knocks land on the door and you hear the small dogs barking and your mom brushing them away from the door. Your mom opens the door with your dad and your jaw hurts from the painful smile on your face as you watch the color in your mom’s face drain. “Mom…?” You ask, waiting for her to say something. “Hello?”

“Oh…sorry.” Your mom gulps, shaking her head. “Of course, come on in, everyone. There’s food on the table for snacks and supper is almost ready.”

Your parents’ tiny dogs yap and jump at you as you take your jacket off, watching as Eddie looks around your childhood home. “Quaint.” Eddie comments, noticing the frames on the wall and the little seasonal décor accents.

“Fuck off.” You tell him, a little self conscious.

“Good quaint.”

“You boys wanna watch the game?” Your dad asks, offering seemingly to anyone but Eddie. “Come on, let’s go sit.” He leans into Eddie as he turns to the living room, muttering, “My wife has got a bucket of questions, so don’t be scared by her inviting you to the kitchen.”

“Dave?” Your mom asks, still not having said much since you got there, which, frankly, is unlike her. “Can you meet me in the kitchen?”

Your dad’s eyes widen, the irony of his last statement not lost on him. “Shut up.” He tells you, his eyes kind behind his round glasses. A grin creeps up your face and you hug him tightly, wishing him luck as he opens the door  into the kitchen.

For the next five minutes, nothing suspicious seems to happen in the kitchen. Steve asks if there are any bottle openers for the beer as you sit next to Eddie on the couch, a dog landing on your lap as you direct him to said kitchen. Nothing too awful seemed to be happening, anyway.

Steve sighs as he just gets comfortable. Even with Eliza gone he can’t get fucking comfy. He trudges on to the door of the kitchen when he overhears the reason your parents were quietly bickering.

“—and Eddie fucking Munson!”

“Are you sure it’s the same men? Maybe they just look the same.”

Your mom hesitates, “I know Steve the Hair Harrington, Dave.”

“Yeah, I know you know him.” Your dad answers, Steve picks up on the bitterness in his voice.

You and Eddie are approaching the kitchen now, both going to grab a drink from the fridge when Steve stops you. “Listen.” He whispers.

“I don’t know how, but my daughter is shacked up with Eddie the Freak Munson!”

“And your high school crush is here as family…” Your dad adds, sounding tired.

High school whatnow?

“Oh, I could barely say two words to him! I went into Family Video once and ended up not getting anything because I was too flustered!”

“I’ve heard this story before, Cheryl, why exactly are you still flustered now?”

“Oh, don’t condescend me, don’t act like if Penny Rogers showed up at our doorstep you wouldn’t be tripping over yourself.”

“Penny has nothing to do with this!”

Once it starts getting heated, you look up at the two men and leave the door quietly to give them some time and hash it out. “Was that what I thought it was?” You ask Steve, afraid of a yes.

Steve nods, his eyes wide. “I think so.”

“Do you remember her?”

Steve shakes his head solemnly. “Sorry, can’t say that I do.”

Your little sister, Viti makes her way down the stairs, passing you without a second thought to the two men she has never met. “Hi, sis.” She greets, about to head into the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t go in there!” You warn her. Viti observes you, looking next to you as the two men shake their heads in tandem.

“What, they fighting? Not unusual, nowadays, sis.”  She answers, walking into the kitchen brazenly.

Eddie can’t resist. He really should. With you right there, he knew he’d get hit. He texts it to Steve, instead. Might not have missed your shot.

Steve pushes Eddie over, rolling his eyes. “You’re terrible!” Steve snaps, wishing the world would envelope him whole.

You hear your parents shooing Viti out and she returns, eyes wide and her pretty braids moving in tandem as she shakes her head. “Nope. I was wrong. They’re way worse. Whatever has them fighting has dad’s neck vein popping out, yeesh. Let’s go wait it out, it’s what I do, anyhow.”

Viti plays host and you sit by Eddie, listening to the boys talk about the game. You’re not particularly interested in stats and players but it’s fun cheering for the other team. Eventually you notice your sister has stopped talking altogether. She’s not even watching the tv screen.

You follow her line of sight to Arlo, and the irony of the situation hits you tenfold. “Nope. I can’t. I can’t.” You go upstairs to your told high school bedroom, Eddie following you inquisitively.

“Hey, what happened?” He asks, following you into the room that’s stuck in 2014.

“I noticed my sister paying a little too much attention to Arlo. That’s a little too fucking weird for me.”

Eddie chuckles, sitting with you on your bed. “We’ll get through this, don’t worry. Steve won’t even mention he doesn’t remember her.”

“He’d better not” You grumble, leaning onto his shoulder.

Eddie now observes his surroundings and how it’s so clearly a teenager’s bedroom. Your bedroom from high school. He adjusts as his hard on comes unexpectedly, yet fast. Something about the suggested innocence… Eddie shakes his head, kicking himself out of it. Your mom calls your name and you sigh, getting up from the teal bedspread. “C’mon. Let’s go face this shit show.”

-

Your mom has seemed to calm herself down, directing everyone to the extended dining table when it comes time. Your sister, 21 and in college, eagerly asks for the chair across from Arlo. By now, he’s caught on and he’s playing nice, much to Dylan’s teasing. However, neither of them have any idea how truly humorous it is.

“Sorry for the delay on supper.” Your mom says as you all sit down. “Some malfunctions with the food, all cleared up.”

Conversations carry on like normal, Eddie getting the interrogation treatment from your mom. Dylan feels defensive of his father’s honor but bites his tongue. She even asks Dylan if it was weird for him. “It’s my new normal.” Dylan answers easily, taking a basket of buns from Arlo next to him.

All conversations go politely, Eddie seemingly passing with flying colors. (Truth is, her mind was already made up before this dinner, and with her distraction, what Eddie said really doesn’t make a difference.) As the channels open up from getting to know Eddie and how he takes care of you and other points, your mom brazenly passes in favor of wanting to get it out there. “Uh, so I don’t know if you are aware, but I went to highschool with you two.”

Arlo, Dylan, and Viti are all thrown, of course. You, Steve, and Eddie all do your best to be surprised, Steve a much subtler actor than Eddie, but the smirk on his face is a dead giveaway. Eddie’s just dramatic.

“No shit, eh? Were we in any classes together?” Steve asks, making conversation.

“Yeah…chemistry and geometry. It was kind of hard to miss The King.” Dylan and Arlo pick up on it simultaneously, both sets of eyes jerking around in disbelief. Was this really happening?

You saw the kick in Steve’s confidence as he was called The King. You lean into Eddie. “The king of what?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Eddie lets you know, shaking his head.

“Don’t blame ya, I was loud.”

“I think I was louder, to be frank.” Eddie says, chuckling about his dramatic flair in the cafeteria.

“Oh my god, I remember that.” Your mom looks up, you envy, wanting to see young Eddie, too. From what you’ve seen of him, if you knew Eddie back then you couldn’t have been held responsible for pinning him down in a high school cafeteria. “The cheerleaders called basketball balls into laundry baskets because it pissed them off so much.”

Eddie chuckles, amused by this. “Cool.”

“I used to go to Steve’s ragers all the time.”

“Ragers? I’m sorry, this old man, father of four, dad joke extraordinaire, was a Rager Party thrower?”

Eddie nods, solemnly. “There’s a reason we didn’t get along. He was a douche.”

“Okay, I don’t think I was that bad.”

“Dad, when I was 17, you said you were glad you didn’t have a daughter because you were a raging dick in highschool. Actual quote.” Arlo speaks up, watching this shit show go down.

“If she was a cheerleader that answers why I don’t recognize her.” Eddie mutters to you, pretending to lean forward to speak low.

“Oh, fuck, yeah! You were Chrissy Cunningham’s friend, right?” Steve answers, tapping his brain.

“Yes! I was!” The relief that radiates off your mom after Steve remembers her is a little uncomfortable.

Steve makes eye contact and mouths the word No to Eddie, signaling he still doesn’t remember her, but if they were on the cheer squad, they definitely knew Chrissy.

An hour later, you’re washing dishes as Eddie comes up from behind you. He’s nervous as ever, for reasons he shall not share, but has something to do with the ring in his back pocket and a question for your parents.

“Hi, baby.” He mutters, thumbs slowly caressing the exposed skin on your hips. “Your mom asked to talk to me…should I be worried?”

“I wanna say no, but I don’t wanna give you false hope.” A sharp pain on your shoulder as he bites it causes you to jump, hitting your hips against his harshly. “I’m just being honest!”

Eddie chuckles softly, kissing where he bit you while rubbing your shoulder softly. You hum into him, your head leaning over in content. “Wish me luck, my love.”

As Eddie turns the corner towards the dining room he hears you mutter, “You’ll need it.” He rolls his eyes at you fondly, mentally reminding himself to get you back for that.

Truth be told, Eddie told a small fib. Your mom had gotten all her questions out during the dinner. Eddie was the one who had requested to talk to her and your father. The ring in his pocket has burned a hole in his back pocket all night, and he could finally get to the reason he was so eager to join your family for dinner.

If he was gonna propose, he’d at least do it right. (To be honest, if your parents don’t approve he’s gonna do it anyway, at least he’ll have made the attempt.)

Your parents are already ready and waiting, in the middle of an unimportant conversation. It dies as soon as he crosses the threshold to the dining room, the air in the room suddenly coarse. Has it really been nearly 30 years since he had to talk to a girlfriend’s parents? “Hi, thanks for agreeing to meet with me.”

“Sure, Eddie.” Your mom politely responds, her voice clearly uncomfortable despite her good manners.

“We were just curious as to why you asked us to have a conversation, is all.” Your dad admits, much more nicely, but still hesitant.

Not that Eddie blames them. If Dylan one day came to him with a much younger girlfriend he’d probably have some concerns, as well.

“I’m sure you are. Uh, to be honest, I was rather eager for a meet-the-family dinner…I have a question for you.” Eddie admits, rubbing his back pocket self consciously. “Listen…I love your daughter very deeply.”

He pauses and assesses their reaction, sitting as he twiddles his thumbs.

“We appreciate the sentiment. I can tell you really care about her.” Your dad admits, a soft smile on his face. He already feels a sense of affection for Eddie, despite only being a handful of years older than him. Anyone paying attention can see that your relationship was by no means superficial.

“However, you’ll have to forgive us if we’re a bit hesitant. Our daughter dating a man that’s literally old enough to be her father is a tad concerning for us.”

Eddie bites his lip, doing his best to stop himself from being defensive. It was his best intention to be on their good side. Flaring up seems like a bad idea.

“Totally understand where you guys are coming from.” He says, his hands anxiously rubbing against his jeans. “As I said, I love her. She’s the best person for me, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier with anyone. I’m so happy… And considering I’m not getting any younger, I can’t wait any longer. I’m hoping you’ll give me your blessing to ask her to marry me.”

Any hope for a blessing dies as soon as your mom opens her mouth. For the record, it starts in abrupt laughter. “Yeah, no, that’s not going to happen.”

Eddie is unable to hold back the look of astonishment that lands on his face. He wasn’t expecting a blessing, but laughter certainly isn’t what he thought would happen. “Uh, care to explain the laughter?”

“Cheryl, while I was also going to refuse his blessing, laughing was a tad unnecessary.”

“Oh, Dave. If you knew Eddie Munson in highschool you would understand. It has nothing to do with the age difference and everything to do with the kid who made dramatic speeches on anarchy.” She laughs, placing one side of her hair behind her ear.

Eddie is stunned by her answer. How the hell was she still thinking like a high school cheerleader this many years later? “I…I have matured quite a bit since highschool.” Seems like you haven’t, bitch.

“While I’m sure you think that’s true, I just can’t see past the screw up. When she gets over how Attractive she finds you, she’ll find her way again.” She says absentmindedly, and even Dave seems to be astounded at her sheer audacity.

He chuckles deeply, arms crossed as he realizes he’s not going to win her over any time soon. An aura of confidence bursts through him, and it's almost refreshing to not be concerned with her opinion of him. “Okay. Got it. Your message is clear.” Eddie laughs.

“Good.” She stops and looks to her husband and says something clearly Eddie wasn’t supposed to hear. “Almost brought up the two years of highschool he repeated.”

That hit Eddie hard. She just went to a place that when Brooke shoved in his face he finally realized how shitty of a person she is. It hit a place that grabbed his heart and squeezed it harshly. “Okay, that’s too far. Don’t make me say it.” Eddie warns, jaw set hard.

She laughs. “Oops. Sorry. Didn’t mean for you to hear that. You gotta admit, it’s true.”

“Seriously. Don’t make me say it.” 

She rolls her eyes in a way he hasn’t seen since a bratty girlfriend Dylan had about ten years ago. “Say what, drug dealer?”

“Cheryl!”

“No, I warned her.” Eddie answers, unbothered at this point. If he has to marry you without your mom there, so be it. “Steve doesn’t remember you. Not the faintest idea who you are.” Eddie takes pride in her crestfallen face. “I respect your lack of blessing, but I’m gonna ask her, anyway. Then, when we get married and you’re not invited, don’t be surprised, Cheryl.”

Without another word, he walks into the living room where everyone is sitting watching a football game, including you. He comes in wearing a smirk, you almost fear the look on his face.

“C’mon, time to go home.” He holds his hand out, a tone in his voice informing you that you have no choice in the matter.

“Is…is everything okay?” you ask hesitantly, getting up from where Steve sits with his legs on your lap.

“If you consider your mom being stuck in high school good, then sure.” Eddie tells you, holding your hand. “Besides I think she’s about to get—”

Eddie is interrupted by your mom marching into the living room. “Alright, get out, family supper over.”

With that, you, Eddie, Dylan, Steve, and Arlo are out the door within the minute.

“Jeesh, what happened?” Steve asks, partially looking accusingly at Eddie.

“She insulted me a bunch, so I told her you had no idea who she is.”

Your hand slaps over your mouth, sharing a stunned look with Dylan and Arlo.  

“She insulted you?” You ask, anger swirling in your stomach as you turn on your heel. “I’ll be right back, baby.”

“Wait—!” Eddie can’t even finish his thought; you’ve already started your walk back into your house to give her a piece of your mind.

Your mom starts flying off the handle the minute the front door slams. “I thought I told you to leave my house!”

The look on her face tells you she’s only attempting to be intimidating with her stern expression, but all you can do is laugh at the absurdity of it. “That was before you decided to go and insult the shit out of my boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, you’re excused. Frankly, it’s embarrassing that I have to defend him from you because of whatever notion of him you’ve kept all these years. It’s also embarrassing for you to act like some moon eyed teenage girl with a crush when your husband of 30 years is literally right there!”

Your mom’s expression flares up defensively. “If you had heard what he said—”

“You realize how patient that man is right?”

She blinks confusedly. “Pardon?”

A huff of laughter escapes you before you continue. “Do you know how patient he is? Because for him to fire a shot back at you that severely means he must’ve endured far too much verbal assault before finally saying something to you. Which means you spent the better part of ten minutes insulting him for whatever reason until he snapped!” You look to your father who had come to witness the whole debacle. ”Am I correct in assuming that?”

He just nods solemnly, arms crossed as he looks on with furrowed eyebrows.

“Thought so. So here’s what’s gonna happen. Next time, you will not insult the man who has been nothing but nice to you and actually gave you no reason to hold a grudge this late in life other than being slightly alternative. If something like this happens again, I will not hesitate to cut contact with you.” A flick of worry crosses his face. “Oh, don’t worry, dad. I only mean her.” You allow your words to sink into her skin. “Am I making myself clear?” You don’t even wait for her response as her mouth gapes. “Good. Because I will be damned if I allow anyone, especially my mother, to mock the man I love. See you next time, where I expect you to act like my mom, and not this insecure and needy cheerleader I see before me.”

The silence is loud as you leave the front hallway entrance and slam the door shut behind you. The sight of Arlo, Steve, and Eddie standing near their vehicles greets you, their eyes synchronously moving to you as the sound of the door slam echoes in the neighborhood.

Eddie jogs over to you, his face concerned. “What was that about?” He asks, observing your mood.

“Yeah, like I’m ever gonna sit idly and watch when someone insults you. That’s unacceptable, I don’t care who it is.” You tell him, your mouth in a stern line, without a hint of humor in your voice.

“I—what?” He asks, his voice soft, his pupils jerkily assessing your face.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, that’s so unfair of her.”

“No, baby, I don’t care about that.” He dismisses it, the last thing on this mind. “Did you just stand up for me? To your own family?”

Suddenly the mist in his eyes becomes much clearer. “Of course! I can’t stomach that crap.”

A small “umph” leaves our throat as he tugs you into his chest with more force than you think he intended to. “I love you so fucking much.”

A sense of pride takes over you, smiling into his chest.

“So, we have a long drive back to Hawkins, so we’re gonna get going.” Steve mentions, suddenly realizing the two of you probably won’t be in the mood for any company tonight.

Eddie lifts his head to respond, you curl into his chest as one of his hands drop. “Of course, dude. If I’d known…”

“I don’t think any of us could’ve predicted that.” Steve laughs, letting the two of you off the hook.

“Oh shit,” Arlo stops himself from getting into his passenger side door. “You know your baby sister gave me her number, right?” He asks you, holding out a little folded piece of paper.

You wince in embarrassment. “Oh god. Don’t feel obligated. She’s just a girl with a crush.”

Arlo shrugs, not making a big deal out of it. “No, I know. Just making you aware.”

You watch him carefully. “…Hey Arlo?”

“Yep?”

“Why are you putting her number back in your wallet?”

He hesitates. “No reason...”

“Arlo?” You ask, your voice raising.

“What? No harm no foul.” He shrugs, putting the wallet back into his pants pocket.

You roll your eyes, shifting your attention to Steve. “Keep an eye on him?”

“I make no promises.” Steve laughs, holding his hands up in surrender.

“You laugh now, Steve, but just wait until Eliza is giving her numbers to men like Arlo.”

Steve stops laughing.

“That’s what I thought.”

Dylan can’t help himself from chiming in the thought that’s been eating at his brain. “Hey look at it this way.” He says, swinging an arm around your shoulder. “If they get married, your sister will have succeeded where your mom failed to.”

“Oh? And what’s that?” You ask, arms crossed with a skeptical smirk on your face.

“Becoming a Harrington.”

-

The bass beat echoes through the house as you dance around, mop in tow as you perform for no one. The Twilight soundtrack plays, specifically Super Massive Black Hole as your hips swing playfully, mopping the living room. Eddie is at work for the day until later in the evening, a rarity, but you plan on surprising him by earning your keep as a freeloader. As you continue to work 40 hours a week, the only thing you have to pay is your phone bill and car insurance, but you feel bad as Eddie continues to pay for everything else.

So, to make up for it, you’ve decided to clean his already clean house and do some laundry for him. Once the last of the living room has been mopped, you put it aside and return to the laundry room to switch the loads over. As everything is moved over, you lift the basket of hot clothes onto your hip like some sort of busy mom and make your way upstairs to the closet to put it away.

At the top of the stairs, you swear softly as you trip over a box Dylan has laid outside his bedroom door. He’s packing to leave, slowly moving his boxes over to his new place one trip at a time. Eddie had offered the same thing he had granted you: a moving truck with men to move it for him, but Dylan outright refused it. You know why, Dylan is a stubborn person, something you realize he got more from her than from Eddie. If Eddie acts stubborn, it’s usually for something he believes very strongly. Dylan is just plain ol’ stubborn.

You lightly kick at the box and walk through your room into your closet. The closet has certainly gotten messier since you moved in, most of the clothes are strung about when you’re done with them at the end of the day…much to Eddie’s dismay. One thing Eddie has learned about you after he moved you in was that you are not an organized person. His constant picking up behind you makes you smile, staring at him dead in the eye as you place the plate in the sink instead of the dishwasher. To Eddie, it’s like you want to watch the world burn.

Based on the look he gave you, you might be facing some repercussions for it, later.

Today is an attempt to make up for it, finally having the time to place your sweaters on the hangers and putting the pants back in their drawers. Eddie has a system, and you have to admit, it works. Your fingers brush the cooled off fabric as you fold each item, placing them in each perspective pile before starting to put them away. You hadn’t even realized the sheer volume of clothes you had put in the load. The detergent only vaguely smells like him, missing his essence, shampoo, and his cologne to top it all off. Still, the smell of it as you take a big inhale is intensely comforting.

Each pile is designated, so you move through them one at a time, the music blaring from the living room still used as a soundtrack. Pants, in the drawers. Shirts, hung up by type. Pajamas, put into a drawer. Your last pile is Eddie’s boxers, you fold them delicately by style and open the drawer to place them in, when a peak in the bottom of the already neat pile grabs your attention. Eddie is notorious for keeping piles meticulously organized so you grab the pile to start over when a soft thud hits the carpeted floor, grabbing your attention.

The object rolls out of sight, so you peer around the center console and the breath gets sucked out of your lungs when you see it. A small black velvet box sits upside down next to the white console, acting like it didn’t just bring tears to your eyes upon the very indication of what could be inside.

You pick the box up, Eddie’s underwear forgotten. You turn it over in your hands, thumb smoothing over the velvet as you contemplate opening it. Your hand itches for it, moving to open and backing out as soon as the seal is broken. Your teeth are grinding so hard as you place it on top of the center console and move to put Eddie’s underwear away, distracting yourself from doing something crazy.

The drawer closes, nothing else to do. The kitchen is done, living room is done, Dylan isn’t around for you to bother him and distract yourself. Mentally, you make a list of things you could be doing instead as you pace around the closet, the little box growing a big presence in the closed-in space. Your phone in your back pocket buzzes, you take it out, grateful for a distraction.

Shit, just someone you’ve spoken to once adding to their story. Your phone goes back into the pocket, and you stare at the box. It’s too tempting. It’s like Eddie staring at you with his dark brown eyes when he’s seducing you. How could you not give in to something when it tempts you so?

“Shit.” You whisper, walking slowly towards it. Finally, you let yourself open it, and your eyes well up as you see its silver and intricate design. It’s just what you envisioned for an engagement ring to be; you couldn’t have picked out a better ring even if you’d tried. How the hell did he find this? How did he know? Your hands are moving before you can even register. The music is still loud downstairs, but it’s muffled to you as your heartbeat takes over. The ring slides easily onto your left ring finger, and it fits perfectly. A tear falls down your cheek, an involuntary smile takes over your face.

Fuck, he does want to be with you forever, enough to go and get a ring. Your hands shakily move to remove it and it feels like torture as the ring lingers on the ridges of your fingerprint. Words can’t convey how hard it is to take it off. Who knows how long Eddie’s going to wait to propose? You don’t want to wait another day, let alone months. The idea of knowing but never knowing when he’s going to do it somehow feels worse than not knowing he has a ring to begin with.

No, you can’t even wait another hour. Your thumb hits the call button on Eddie’s name, top of your favorites, the recent calls, and your text messages. Doesn’t matter, if your thumb hits the top of your screen it’ll lead to him somehow.

He picks up on the second ring. “Hi, baby.” He greets you so warmly, a smile radiating in his voice.

You stare at the ring now sitting in your hand and nearly cry just from his tone alone. “Come home.”

“Wh-what, why?” Eddie asks, sounding alarmed. “Are you okay, did something happen, or--?” You can hear him moving around, he’s already getting ready to leave.

“I really need you right now.” You tell him, watching the silver band catch the fluorescent lighting of the closet. “Just come home.”

“Okay, sit tight, be right there. Love you.” Before you can respond, he hangs up, and you suddenly realize you have mere minutes to go and turn off the blaring music.

When Eddie bursts through the door, you greet him in the front entrance, the music turned off as you stand there with one hand behind your back, concealing the box in your hands. It lasts only a second. “Ask me.” You tell him, forgetting to show him the ring.

Eddie stops in his tracks; unsure he heard you correctly. He appears deeply concerned, his brow deeply furrowed and lips in a tight line. “I’m sorry?”

“Oh.” You let out, bringing the ring into his sight. Eddie’s eyes widen as he sees the box within your clenched grip. You shove it into his chest, eyes welling up as you tell him again. “Ask me. Get down on one knee and ask me.”

“A-a-are you sure? I had a plan, I was gonna make a whole romantic evening out of it—”

You interrupt him, happy tears shining in your eyes. “Edward Munson if you don’t ask me right now, I swear to god—”

“Okay, okay!” He chuckles, relieved his worry was all for nothing, yet his heart races as he shakily takes a breath and slowly lowers onto one of his knees. “Y/N L/N,” he starts, licking his lips as he smiles up at you. He holds out the tiny box you spent the last hour fidgeting with and opens it. “Will you marry me?” It couldn’t have looked any better…the shine in his eyes as he looks up at you, how the heavy breathing of his chest signals his nerves, his fingers fidgeting around the little black box.

You giggle through a teary yes, meeting him halfway as he rushes to his feet, grabby hands pawing at his face to yank him into a kiss. You’re both smiling too much to truly lock lips, feeling the top row of his teeth against your own gnash in the best of ways. “Put it on, put it on!” You mutter, your left hand tapping his chest impatiently.

His hands move quickly, stumbling as he slides it on. You can swear you see his eyes well up as he admires how it looks on your finger. “Back where it belongs.” You whisper to yourself, tapping your fingers on his chest.

The sentence takes a minute for Eddie to register as he smiles down at you, lovelorn. “Did you try the ring on?”

Your eyes widen, your face breaking into a wide smile. “I mean, with a ring as perfect as this one, how could I not?”

“Perfect, eh?” He asks, one hand moving up to caress your cheek. “I’ll take it.” He leans down to kiss you, all his emotions he fails to put into words conveying in the deep and lush kiss. It takes your breath away. “You sure? You wanna wear a pretty white dress and walk down the aisle to little old me?” Eddie ignored the subtle strain at his cock as he pictured you in a white dress at the opposite end of the aisle. Well, that’s new.

“Yes, I’m fucking sure!” You tell him, lightly bonking him as you continue to kiss him. “I wouldn’t have stared at the box for twenty minutes if I wasn’t sure.”

He separates from you, a smirk on his face. “Twenty minutes?”

“Yeah. If it wasn’t a ring, I think I would’ve died.” You confess easily, and the truth always comes so easy to you when it comes to Eddie. “Now kiss me some more.”

He laughs, leaning in for a slippery wet kiss. His breath is delicious, he tilts his head to deepen the kiss while his fingers trail along your side and rest on a patch of skin that’s exposed on your hip. It tugs the littlest of whimpers out of you, hands resting on his broad shoulders. His tongue licks along the bottom lip, asking for permission in a way he usually demands. You grant it, your foot taking an accidental step back on the hardwood.

Eddie’s hand that rests on your face moves down your neck, his rough fingers are tense as they seem to memorize every inch of your skin. Your neck tingles in its wake, a sigh of contentment leaves your lips. Eddie responds with a dirty exhale into your mouth and your jaw falls open in a sudden need for him. A sudden charge in you appears out of thin air, wanting more. “Ed.” You whimper out, clutching onto his jacket he’s still wearing.

He hums in response; you can feel his lips turn upward into a smirk as his hands continue their journey to your waistline. Your thighs clench together, craving friction on your heat that for whatever reason he hasn’t granted yet. You become impatient, moving the jacket off his shoulders and you’re happily greeted by the muscle shirt he’s wearing, his gorgeous arms on full display. His lips kiss down your neck, his hands spread out as if to touch every inch that they can, lifting your oversized t-shirt to expose the skin. You move to assist him, lifting your shirt above your head. It’s not going fast enough for you, there’s too much clothing on you.

Your feet unconsciously move toward somewhere you can lie down, the couch, the counter, the stairs, anywhere to prevent your knees from buckling embarrassingly. “Where you going?” He mutters, yet still allowing you to lead.

The back of your thighs meet the armrest of the couch. “The couch, apparently.” You answer, sighing as he continues to devour your neck.

Eddie inhales the perfume you spritzed that morning and lets out a chuckle. Before you can even ask, he pushes you by the shoulders, making you fall backwards onto the couch. “Fine by me.”

Your back hits the cushions, a rough landing as you bounce. Eddie crawls on top of you, tongue meeting your leg in a trail of wet kisses as he makes his way up to your pelvis. A whine leaves your throat, eyes closing in bliss as each kiss contributes to the blindingly hot need for him in your pussy.

Eddie reaches your crotch, and as he lifts his mouth from you, you expect him to take your shorts off. Instead, he puts his face in and inhales, moaning when your aroma hits his nose. Just from your smell he can tell how wet you are. “Baby you are soaked, aren’t you?” His brown eyes meet yours, lust overwhelming his eyes.

“Always.” You answer, not a hint of shame behind it. “Always ready for you.”

Eddie’s eyes roll into the back of his head at your answer, groaning. Fuck, doesn’t that deserve a reward. His hands easily hook around the elastic band of your grey shorts, moving them swiftly off your legs. His original plan to tease you through your panties goes to shit, your eagerness driving the need to devour you like an arrow into his chest. The glisten of your folds is a sight to see– as always–  as he makes himself comfortable on the couch, situating your legs over his shoulders. A squeal of giggles escapes your throat as he tugs your body to where he needs you. Your knees meet your torso, toes already curled at the anticipation as his hot and heavy breaths send jolts of pleasure and he hasn’t even touched your dripping cunt yet.

“Eddie.” Your voice comes out desperate.

Eddie smirks at it, it’s barely been a full minute since he tugged your shorts off. “I know.” One hand that rests on your thigh reaches forward for your left hand, toying with the ring that hasn’t been on your finger for more than five minutes. Your hand shakily grips his tightly and you clench your thighs around his head tightly in anticipation.

After what feels like ages, he finally leans in to devour you, using his tongue in one long stripe along your folds. The release it gives you is both not enough and everything you need. Your hips grind up to meet his mouth, heels digging in, and his deep chuckle vibrating against your pussy is too fucking good. Moans leave your mouth at your breathing rate, every breath being a whimper to let Eddie know how fucking good his mouth feels against you.

The hand still on your other thigh travels to play at your clit gently, and your moans go silent as your thighs fucking quake against him. Eddie can’t stop the satisfaction that purrs through him in the form of laughter. “Fuck, baby. Barely touched you.” He mutters, low enough he’s not even sure you hear him.

Halfway through a sigh, it turns into a laugh. “Mouth feels so good.”

Eddie hums in response, mouthing at your folds again before his tongue makes its way into you, his nose nuzzling your clit. He fucks you with his tongue and you grind against him, the grip on your left hand harsh and his nails now digging into your right thigh. “Cunt smells so fucking good.” He says, rutting his nose against your clit and knowing damn well what it was doing to you. “Tastes…” he pauses fucking you with his tongue again, “…tastes like fucking heaven, fuck, baby.”

Eddie is driving you to the edge quickly, your thighs tense against his head as your hips continue to grind up against him. Your free hand lands in his hair, pulling at the roots at every wave of pleasure he gives you. Eddie could swear the pulls feel like a heartbeat at his roots, not that he minds. As he continues and drives you faster to that high, he notices the tugs get faster and he moans when he realizes something you do not.

He slides two fingers in, moving them back and forth, listening to the sinful wet sounds your pussy makes as it weeps for him. As your slick makes a mess on his chin and hands as he smirks up at you, hooking his fingers against your g-spot. Your thighs clench even harder as the heat expands, radiating through your body and you barely have a second to think to warn him. “Ed, I, I—” He feels you flutter around his fingers as you cum, your legs shaking as you lose all control of your extremities. He saw it coming from a mile away, as the tugs on his hair became more frequent.

He continues to lick at the slick of your folds and finger you gently as you come down from your high, your entire body going limp. He gives one last kiss to your clit and kisses his way up your body, you watch as his wide smile comes closer and closer to you. “How’s my girl?”

A giggle leaves your mouth, smiling up at him gleefully. “I’m alright.” Eddie tickles your hip bone, and you squirm underneath him, giggling harder. “Okay, okay! Fuck!” Your legs wrap around his hips, and you tug his growing tent down to meet your exposed pussy. “Need you.”

“Need to feel that pussy wrapped around my cock, baby.” Eddie grinds himself into your heat, teasing himself, but admiring the way your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your heat is throbbing at this point, begging for more. “Need your cock in me, Ed. Want you to fuck me open.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, as he’s the one that usually does the talking. “Yeah? Need this big cock in that tight little pussy?”

“So fucking bad, Ed. Please give it to me.”

“Oh I’m gonna give it to you.” He leans forward for a wet and slobbery kiss, one that you embrace at tenfold. Your hand goes to his jeans where they’re laying now on your pelvic bone to undo the button, shakily attempting to with only one hand, the other still in his grip.

“Ed…” You whimper, tugging on the waistband wordlessly. “Get these fucking jeans off.”

Eddie chuckles as he climbs off you to take his jeans off. You sit up to watch him as his gorgeous figure gets undressed. Your hands move to your back to get rid of the bra that still hides your chest. He walks up to you sitting on the couch, placing a finger to tilt your chin up. You peer up at him with wide doe eyes, his cock only inches away from your face.

His thumb gently swipes at your bottom lip, admiring the shade of them. “So pretty.” He mutters, about to ask you to lay down.

“Wanna fuck it?” You ask, his cock mere inches from your face, you’re suddenly craving his balls up against your cheek and the weight of his cock on your tongue.

“Weren’t you just begging me to fuck your pussy?” He asks, searching your eyes for the sudden change in you.

Your mouth opens obediently, pulling a gasp of disbelief from Eddie. His cock literally twitches, and he realizes there’s no reason not to let you if you’re so eager to. He slides his cock in your mouth, watching as he slowly moves to the back of your throat, your doe eyes still looking up at him.

“Oh, my good girl.” He rubs at your cheek, feeling the length of himself against it. “Such a good girl for daddy.”

As much as you resist, your eyelids flutter shut, moving your head up and down, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck on him. You hear a groan of contentment out of him, and it only encourages you. One of his hands weaves itself into your hair, using it to guide you. You take yourself off his cock, breathing heavily as you take a long lick at a vein along the side of the shaft. Your left hand wraps around the length, jerking him off as you lean forward to take one of his balls into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, that’s so pretty.” He mutters, causing you to stop.

“Hmm?”

“Look, baby. Your ring on my cock…wanna take a picture…fuck.”

You don’t answer, just continuing to jerk him off as your mouth resumes its journey to his balls. You take one in your mouth, the hair on them smelling like sweat. You take a big inhale of them, sighing happily as you suck at the flesh. Eddie’s knee almost buckles as he sees what you’re doing, the idea that you were inhaling his raw scent too much for him to comprehend.

“Oh Jesus, trying to kill me.”

“No.” You mutter, hand still jerking him as you move to give the other side the same treatment. “Just blow you stupid.”

Eddie moans at your nonchalance, and as you finish with the second ball you move back to his cock, spitting on it and taking it back into your mouth. You give no warning as you take in as much as you can, focusing on getting him to the back of your throat. Before he can instruct you, you relax your throat and allow your nose meet his pubic hair, taking in the damn whimper that leaves his mouth, relishing in it.

“Fuck, if you keep going like this I will fucking blow.”

At his insistence, your mouth leaves his cock with a pop, still on your knees, completely naked as your eyes stare up at him. Eddie nearly loses his mind as he looks down at you, hands combing through your hair. “Lie down, baby.”

You need no more instruction, lying on the couch, your legs open as you wait for him. He sits himself in between them, hands framing your head as he looks at your face. “I can’t believe I get to marry someone so fucking beautiful.” Your eyes well up at the sentence as it fucking sucks the air out of your lungs.  

Eddie barely gives you a chance to recover, sliding himself in you. Your jaw drops at it, eyelids growing heavy as you watch him carefully. “You can’t…you can’t just say something like that.” You whimper, gasping for breath. “It’s not fair.”

“I’ll say it because it’s the fucking truth.” Eddie states, watching for the signal when you’re ready for him to move. “God you in a fucking white dress, looking all sweet n’ shit…”

“Gonna be your wife.” Eddie’s hips buck into you in response, and a gasp falls from your lips in surprise. “Fuck!”

“Gonna be my fucking wife.” It comes out of him in a growl, a sense of pride runs through Eddie as he is elated he gets to share the discovery of his love of calling you his wife with you, finally. “Oh baby, pussy is so tight, just suckin’ me in.”

“Want that. Want you. Want us.” It babbles out, Eddie gaining speed as he watches your cocked out expression looking so adoringly up at him. You hold onto him, nails scratching down his back. He bucks harder, head buried in your neck as he attempts to calm himself down. “Want you to put a baby in me.”

A fucking growl leaves his throat and his head perks up to look at you. “Oh my god, I almost just came.” He says lowly.

“Really?” You ask him, eyes shining bright at his confession.

He nods, gulping. “Y-yeah.” Your legs tug him back down, lifting your hip to get him to fuck you more. A grunt of acknowledgement escapes his throat, back to business. “Gonna put a baby in you.”

“Oh fuck, Ed, just like that.”

“Gonna marry you and get you fucking pregnant, you’ll be my hot little housewife!”

“You’re in my fucking stomach Ed, fuck you’re so deep!”

Eddie cannot help the swell of pride he feels at this. “Gonna fill you up, baby.”

“Fuck…Ed,”

The moment your pussy flutters around him he cums into you, white sticky ropes filling you up. His weight collapses on you, your legs gripping on his torso tight, holding him in. Your eyelids feel heavy as you look up at him, holding his face. “You know, I really can’t wait to marry you.” Eddie tells you, his thumb toying with your ring, his hand resting on yours.

You gulp, the sentiment the same. He knows it by your expression and by your impatience, you can’t wait either. “How long—” you yawn, “how long have you had it?”

“Uh…since Harrington was here.” Eddie refuses to say Steve’s name while he’s inside you.

“What!?” Your eyes pop open in disbelief. “You’ve had this for weeks? And you haven’t asked me yet?”

“I knew I wasn’t fucking crazy.” Eddie mutters, and you peer up at him, eyebrow raised in a question. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Ok.” You yawn again, clutching onto his back. “We have all the time in the world for you to tell me, anyway.”

Eddie’s chest swells with emotion, clutching onto you like his lifeline. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

You nuzzle your nose into his hair, letting yourself get into his tangled curls. “Love you too.”

You fall asleep within seconds, Eddie texts his employees he had an emergency and can’t return for the day. He had a full day, but that was before you decided to take over his proposal.

-

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