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bee-wg · 1 month

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Year 2:

“Jay! What the Flip?” It’s the ass crack of dawn, and Theo is already trying his best SpongeBob impression.

“Whaaat?” I yelled back with a mouth full of pancakes.

“You put your dirty clothes on my bed again!” He squealed.

”Dude, you asked for it. What are you whining about?”

“Boys, What did I say about yelling in the morning?” She yelled.

“Yewn, bwintow!” I think Dad was telling us to break it off, but he’s too lost in the Cream Cheese Danish.

Can’t blame him. Delicious and high protein? There’s nothing better.

Theo rushed down with a constipated face.

“Ewww. They’re still wet to the touch. Wait. Is it dripping sweat?”

Okay. I overlooked the wet part, but he asked me to have it.

I’ve been cleaning out some gym clothes that don't fit anymore, and Theo wanted some. I’ve decided to fully commit on football and my stocky phase, so I gave that shirt one last try yesterday. It was definitely not made for a more rugged build person. As I walked around the house, I unknowingly soaked it. I used to be disgusted with sweating. I would shower and wash the clothes by hand after each morning run. Recently I’ve been sweating a lot easier, but Dad told me to look at the bright side of things, and I do see it. Usually I would only sweat when I get a real good workout. Since it's easier to sweat buckets, that means I’m getting lots of exercise.

That leads back to this. I don’t feel as compelled to wash them anymore. They’re the result of my hard work on the journey back to being shredded.

“No more pancakes in the morning for the month.” He said.

“What?…But…You can’t do that.”

His face tells me, “Yes, loser. I can.”

***

“What happened, dude? Your cat died?” Brad asked.

This is supposed to be an easy practice because it’s the last before the summer. I guess Coach woke up and chose violence.

I’ve been only doing a few yards of Quick Steps and Sumo squats. My lungs are now collapsing.

I’m only 230 pounds; there are players heavier than me doing better. I’m doing something wrong. It must be because I didn’t have protein pancakes for days.

“Dude, you there?” Brad asked.

Trying not to wheeze, I replied.

“Yeah, S’all good. I’m just hungry.”

It would be an understatement. When you’re used to protein goods pumping your belly full of energy every morning, what does five English muffins and some hash browns even do?”

“Hahaha, classic Jay. You’re the man.” Brad answers with a slap on my back.

“Gosh, you’re getting sweatier than Aiden.” He said in disbelief.

“Oh, by the way. Aiden’s going to Costco to buy a speaker for our dorm. You mind giving him a lift?” Brad asked.

“Bad timing man, my dad broke the old Toyota. It’s taking a long time to repair.”

“No problem. I’ll see you next semester then. Take care!” Brad waved as he sprinted out of the field.

***

I felt like I could eat a horse when the bus arrived. I passed through the usual stops, and finally.

The warm smell of chicken nuggets invites me.

I pull out my phone and check. Ten consecutive days. I can definitely redeem a free meal today.

“Welcome, what can I get you?” The cashier asked.

“Can I have the Double Western Deluxe Combo?” “ I have the loyalty discount.”

“Thank you, here’s your number.”

After what felt like forever, they finally called my number.

It’s a pretty big meal, but today’s situation calls for it.

I’ve been doing pretty well sticking to a fries-only diet when I’m here. With some occasional burgers and soda thrown in, I’ve accumulated a few thousand points to have meals like this once in a while. The only downside is the bus here takes way too long. I guess it’s better than the neighbours knowing I’m a regular customer.

As I finished the fries, I saw a guy wandering outside with my university’s gym bag.

Wait, is he from the team?

Wait, is that Aiden?

No. Shit, Is Aiden waving to me?

He’s probably waving to someone else.

Then the door’s jingle chimes.

“Yo, I didn’t expect to see you here!” Aiden said.

My alone time is ruined.

“Yeah man, me too. What brought you here?” I asked.

“Just bought the speaker and couldn’t find any restaurants here. I thought Costco had a food court.” He looked down at my plate.

“Whatchu havin’? Oh Damnnn, that’s a chunky burger!” He said in excitement.

“Haven’t had them in years, my mom hates that shit.”

I just wish to crawl into a hole at this point.

“Yeah, my mom hates them to-”

“I should have one too.” Aiden interrupted.

”What?”

Then he came back with a smaller combo with a box of salad.

“Oh man, I’ve been wanting to have a taste for so long,” Aiden said with glittering eyes.

He got a few bites of the burger and fries, then moved on to the salad.

“So what are you doing this summer?” I asked.

“Oh, not much. Probably hang out with the guys. My dad wants me to go to a training camp though. It’s not like I will play football after college anyway, so what’s the point?”

Then we talk about dorm drama and who the coach is going to recommend to the NFL scouts.

He is actually quite chill to talk to.

“You don’t like it?” I point down to his unfinished burger.

“No, it’s the best thing I’ve had in years. Definitely beating celery or carrots. I just have a diet going on, and I kinda impulse bought this.”

“I could finish it for you.” I offered.

“Really? Thank you so much dude!” He said.

“You’re actually pretty fun to hang out with. I always thought you had a stick up your ass.” He added unhelpfully.

By the time the last of his burger and fries disappeared in my stomach, I was ready to sleep it off when I got home.

My phone rang, waking me up from sleep. It’s 2 AM.

Probably Number Seven. He always calls at an odd hour.

I picked up the call.

“Duuuuuuude, I didn’t know you go to fast foods. I thought we don’t keep anything from each other.” Instead of number seven, Brad said.

“Jay, knock it off,” Theo grumbled on the other side of the room.

“Keep it down, Brad. What is it?”

I knew shit would get out of the bag sooner or later. At least I had two weeks of peace.

“Next time let me join too!” Brad said.

What the hell is up with these people?

“Fine, whatever. Let me go to sleep.”

“Thanks a lot, man. I’ve never had fast food before!”

I have the feeling that this is going to bite me in the ass later.

Brad is calling me. Again.

“Dude, what?” I asked calmly.

“Woah, no need to get so worked up.”

“I asked some of my mates, they all agreed to meet up at the mall’s parking lot,” Brad said.

What is going on? It’s only been five hours since he last called me.

“Don’t forget to bring your laptop and an empty stomach! It’s gonna be an epic summer.” Then he hung up on me.

I should be used to Brad’s bullshit by now. He’s been like this since high school.

The bus on the way there is as tedious as usual.

Why did he tell me to go with an empty stomach? Didn’t he know that I get really grumpy without any breakfast? It’s worse now without pancakes.

He looks at me eagerly, like a dog finding its treat.

“What is it, man?” I asked as he led me to the back of the restaurant.

Then, no Harry Potter bullshit, he opened the wall.

“What the hell? There was a room back here all this time?”

“Wait, Brad. You rented a party room?”

“It’s sick, right? I thought we could chill here for the summer, and go to the river nearby when we’re bored. Oh, I also brought the guys here. And a projector!”

“How did you afford this? I didn’t know you were rich.” I look at the big ass room with my friends in there already playing video games. Even Aiden the snitch is here.

“Oh, I have a pretty successful OnlyFans account. I thought I could spend it on you guys.”

“…”

“Good for you, man. Gotta hustle in this economy.”

He ordered a party combo with a bunch of salad. Then we started playing video games. It wasn’t until I was on a losing streak playing Yoshi on Mario Kart, I realized. They were staring at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

“So…Can you help us finish?” Aiden said.

Oh no. Not again. I turned to look at Brad.

He responded with a toothy grin.

“Please Jay, you have, like, the biggest appetite out of all of us. Look at all this free food going to waste. I bet you’re still hungry.”

“There are five of you,” I said.

“Marcus can help,” Brad added.

“Wait, me?” Marcus said.

He’s the team’s linebacker. The only guy bigger than me.

“Fine. At least it’s free.” I said reluctantly.

The fact that all of the juicy meat is screaming for my attention might be clouding my judgment.

We continued playing games, watched some movies while I munch

It was pretty fun. I got to talk to the people I wouldn’t usually talk to.

For example, I didn’t know Braxton played piano or Oscar was a hardcore Pokémon card collector.

The rest of the summer continued and the guys would meet up about three times a week.

I should’ve said no the second time Brad asked. But how can I let the food go to waste when the guys need me?

Marcus doesn’t come often because he’s occupied with his boyfriend. So the guys developed a way for me to eat all of their share. I would drink a dubious amount of water to expand my stomach in the morning, giving me more space.

It was incredibly stupid, but when the guys cheered me up while I devoured the last of the remains, I felt pretty proud of myself.

By the end of the summer, not wanting to waste the last of our freedom. Everyone has been scrambling for things to do.

That’s where Brad’s dad comes in. He organized a BBQ party by the beach and invited all the football Dads from high school who were still in their little group chat. Of course, we are invited too.

“Oh come on, Jay Jay. You have to go, or else I’m gonna be all alone.” Brad whined.

“No Brad. You’re gonna be with twenty people, you won’t be alone.” I replied.

“If you’re worried about not having any swim trunks that fit, you can borrow from my old man, or we could go shopping together.” Shit, he’s awfully insightful.

“Your dad is like, 500 pounds. I’m not that fat, dude.”

Then Theo asked me if he could join cause he had grown out of his swim shorts too. Whatever that means.

That’s how we ended up here with Brad showing me an ugly Hawaii print speedo with a blue Jay on it, and Theo laughing his ass off with him.

“No, I’m not going to wear that,” I said for the final time.

“You’re no fun, Jay,” Theo said.

“Right? This guy gets it.” Brad replied to him.

“So you’re the culprit who made Jay fat,” Brad asked.

”Dude, you don’t know the half of it. I basically sacrificed myself to advance his cooking career.” I added.

“I don’t know. I would think taking care of his laundry, dishes, and meals, just to have him burp in my face and snore at night makes up for it. If anything, I'm doing too much. I should stop doing the protein pancakes agai-“

”Theo! You’re literally the best chef in the world. I am honoured to be your Guinea pig for the rest of my life.” I said.

He smiled

Yes! Crises subverted.

“Hahahahaha you two are so strange.” Brad, who is still listening, said.

The possibility of protein pancakes being taken away from me sends shivers down my spine. I try to refocus on Brad’s shenanigans.

He came out of the fitting room with a professional swimming Jammer.

Why did he even take his shirt off? Goddamn washboard abs.

“Don’t you think it’s too extra for the beach barbecue?” I asked.

“I think it fits him nicely,” Theo said.

“Theo, you get me,” Brad said, then winked at him.

Is he trying to rizz my cousin?

“It’s my turn!” Theo said, grabbing a few trunks he chose.

Then he came out, without a shirt too, wearing a bright orange swim shorts.

“I see you’re putting my gym membership to good use.” Goddamn washboard abs, where did that even come from? Now that I think of it, he’s been fitting my old gym clothes better.

“You look awesome, Theo. The orange fits you nicely.” Brad said.

“I guess it’s my turn,” I said without enthusiasm.

After struggling to pull it up my ass. I walked out with the ugly print forest green trunk that’s wedged between my inner thighs; with a shirt on, thank you very much.

“Woah, look at those hefty thighs,” Brad said.

I’m out of options, and there’s no way I’m walking into another swimwear store again. So we made our way to the counter.

The day for the beach finally arrives, and I can already feel the swim trunks digging into my ass.

What’s more annoying is that Mom and Dad are now angry at me.

I would be angry at myself too.

Now I’m in a car with no AC, listening to how I should make better life choices.

“Jay, I didn’t think you would sneak off for fast food without telling us.” Mom said.

She caught the extra burgers I sneaked in to munch on at night this morning.

“Jacob, don’t you remember what I told you about garbage food?” Dad asked.

He said my full name. He never says my full name.

“If you want fried chicken you could ask mom to make it. You know it’s healthier at home.” Dad said.

“Am I not making enough, Jay?” Mom asked.

“I’m sorry Mom, I know I shouldn’t go,” I said.

“Don’t worry about it, honey. We can get through this together. If you want more fried food, Theo and I will make lots of it at home.”

“I got you, Jay,” Theo said, patting my shoulder.

We finally got to the beachside. After finding a shade to park our car, Dad struggled a bit to get out of the car. It seems like the old Toyota is seeing its last days. We might need to upgrade the car soon.

I know Dad is probably not mad at me, but his disappointment was worse.

Hopefully he can forgive me after getting some barbecue in his stomach.

We started setting up the chairs with Brad’s dad as more of my high school friends and their dads started coming in. I haven’t seen most of them since we graduated.

Dad went to greet them and it looked like he fit right in.

He was the Dad everyone’s dad was jealous of but couldn’t help to like him.

I was pretty shocked when I heard Dad wanted to come because he always declined their barbecue invites.

He was the fittest of the group, but it looks like he is one of the heavier guys here. Dad told me he’s almost 260 pounds now, so Theo and I will probably lose again this year.

I feel conflicted. I wanted to look like Dad before when he had chiselled abs, but I also want to look like him now when he has a much larger presence with the same amount of confidence. I can’t do either correctly.

“You daydreaming, bro?” Brad said.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get the boxes out,” I replied.

“Just so you know, you can tell me whatever you want, Alright?” He said.

“Thanks man, appreciate it.”

He’s too pure to know about my problem with how my abs or belly doesn’t look right.

We got the tablecloth pinned in place to withstand the wind, then set up some disposable tableware.

“Good job, son,” Dad said as he patted my back.

I smiled for the first time today.

Brad’s dad put us on watch duty for the grill while I fought not to drool on the food.

I’ll get my share. Old people first.

“Jacob? You’re all grown up! You’re a big boy now, almost as big as me. I bet you made your father proud.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“Mr. Lancaster, you’re here! I didn’t know you were coming.”

He used to take me to his house with Ms. Lancaster when my mom was busy, or when Dad was substituting for other teachers.

Avery and I used to-

Wait, Avery is here?

I looked around to scan everyone.

“Oh, my boy is having a problem with his car, so he is probably not coming.” Mr. Lancaster said.

“We have the same issue too; it’s been a mess. Say hello to Avery for me, eh?”

“Of course, good to see you, Jay.” He replied.

I sighed in relief. I don’t know what to say to Avery if he comes. I missed him, but I also ignored him a couple times when I spotted him at the fast food place.

We served for an hour and a half. I probably lost the 60weight pounds I’ve gained, and my stomach is definitely deflated now.

Note to self: If I ever need to lose weight again, just stare at tasty barbecues all day just to have none of it.

“Ahem. Woah cool! Look at that shiny thing over there. I’m going to go fetch it!” Brad said suddenly, then ran off.

“Wait, you still have your-“

He ditched me.

I tried to flip over both of our grills to no avail.

“You need help?”

“Ahhhhhh!”I yelped.

Ave laughs with his usual lopsided smile.

“I thought you were,” I said.

“Dead? No. I caught an Uber.” Avery said.

“Right. Long time no see.” I reached out my hand for a shake.

“Seriously, Jay? When did you start doing that shit?” Ave said.

Same old Avery then. I took my hand back and hid a grin.

He looked so different I didn’t know how to react. By the looks of it, he’s almost doubled my weight, maybe around 450s.

“Haven’t seen you in a while. You look good.” He said.

“You looked good too.” Now that I see him closely, it suits him, makes him look sturdy. His ass is hanging out in the back like a bra though.

“What were you up to this past year?” I asked.

“Well you know, I screwed up the football scholarship. But it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to me.” He said.

“I was pretty depressed for a bit, so I decided to go on one of the self-searching trips to some countries and states...”

Then he told me about the kind people and assholes he met on the way, as we finally sat down with our share of Barbecues.

Ave said that he got to eat food he never imagined existed, learn about cultures that changed his perspective on things.

He said he has never felt freer of any emotional constraints than he is now. I couldn't stop my smile from forming. I’m really happy for him.

He has always been harsh on himself. When school didn’t work, he dedicated his all to sports. On his way there, I felt like I lost a friend.

We talked for hours about the airplane seats being a bitch and how he’s sorry for whoever sat next to him, or about how I am addicted to fast foods and pancakes. He’s probably the only one I know that can relate.

I was lost in the conversation, with Brad interrupting occasionally with strange looks of wiggling eyebrows or smug smiles. I really don’t know what he’s on.

It’s when Dad is folding up the seats, and Brad’s dad cleans up the grill. Ave asked me.

“Wanna do this again sometime? My dad’s coffee shop has a new brownie coming up that he’s really proud of.”

Yes, of course. I wanna learn more about you and be friends again.

“Sorry, men. School is going to be busy. I also need to focus on football more this year, or I will get too fat to play.” I said.

“No problem Jay. You know I’ll always be there for you.” Avery said.

I tried to one arm hug him and he fully embraced me. His body is so warm and unbelievably soft.

For a moment, I wished I was proud like him. But I’m not free like him

Gathering supplies Dad brought, I walked back to the car, forgetting to ask for his number.

The school year started without much fanfare. But the feeling of estrangement grew.

Hanging out with the team was fun, but playing the game just doesn’t bring me the same amount of rush and anticipation anymore, instead, I look forward to the meal after the game that brings me the rush. It’s not like I was playing the game much anyway; I’m a glorified Waterboy now. My job is to refuel the Gatorade or water, then squirt it into the guys’ mouths. After that, I just need to hand them the towel and sit back to finish my hot dog.

I know the team appreciates me. I would keep doing it for them if not for Coach’s disappointing stares. He probably thought I would be a star player like Dad, but I ended up fatter than the linebacker. I would be disappointed too.

My decision was made following the buzzing call of our defeat.

Chapter 3 ->

#male weight gain #fit to fat #exjock

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jinjeriffic · 9 months

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DC x DP prompt/ficlet

Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:

Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...

Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.

While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!

Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.

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

Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED

Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE

Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?

RR: I would like to know that too

Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!

RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?

FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...

RR: Shit

Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??

FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...

Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!

RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*

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

Some time and explanations later...

Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?

Tim: Fml

RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that

Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English

RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics

Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times

RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...

Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that

Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway

Danny: That's what you took from that??

RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.

Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole

RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...

Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*

Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?

RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no

Danny and Tim: Fuck

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

Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.

They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...

Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*

Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...

Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #tim drake #red robin #danny fenton #ficlet #batman #batfam #accidental marriage #arranged marriage

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steveseddie · 7 months

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love is stored in a can of hairspray

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 3,189

tags: eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, eddie munson is a sweetheart, steve has a bad hair week and eddie comes to the rescue, fluff, soft boys, first kiss, getting together

for the @steddielovemonth prompt “love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy” by @forgottenkanji

a/n: i'm a day late for this one but in my defense i had a wedding yesterday and it was a crazy day! enjoy!

click here to read on ao3

***

There’s a reason why Steve Harrington was dubbed “The Hair” of Hawkins.

In all the years Eddie has known Steve or known of Steve, he’s never seen him have a bad hair day.

It doesn’t matter if it’s rainy or sunny, if he’s wearing a Scoops Ahoy sailor hat or if he’s walking down the halls of Hawkins High or if he’s fighting Demobats in the Upside Down after taking a dive in Lover’s Lake, Steve Harrington’s hair always looked great. Eddie doesn’t know how he does it. Well. He kinda does ‘cause Henderson is a blabbermouth who let Steve’s secret about the Farrah Fawcett hairspray slip one time, but Eddie still doesn’t understand how Steve always makes his hair look like that. He thinks there’s got to be magic involved, a deal with the devil so that Steve’s hair never looks bad.

That is until today.

Eddie arrives at the Wheeler residence and announces himself by ringing the bell three times just to be annoying. He waits for someone to come open the door for him, and in the meantime, crouches down to tie his Converse. The door opens while Eddie is still on the floor and the first thing he sees is a pristine pair of white Nikes that he could recognize anywhere.

“Well, well, well,” he says, tightening the laces and springing to his feet. “If it isn’t my favorite guy in all of Hawkins, I didn’t know you’d be- Jesus H. Christ, dude! What happened to your hair?” He blurts out the last part when his eyes land on Steve’s head. Or the thick untidy mass where his perfect hair should be, with strands matted on his forehead above his furrowed brow.

“Fuck you, man,” Steve grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.

Eddie feels a little bad, but his mouth-to-brain already leaves so much to be desired around Steve on a good day-

Not that Steve looks bad. Eddie is convinced that he couldn’t look bad if he tried, but right now he certainly doesn’t look like The Hair of Hawkins.

“Sorry, it’s just-” He waves vaguely at Steve’s head. “What’s up with that?”

Steve groans loudly. “A bunch of my products are sold out at every fucking store in Hawkins,” he explains for what seems to be not for the first time today. “Been meaning to drive to the next town over to get them, but I’ve been picking up so many extra shifts at Family Video that I haven’t had the time.”

Eddie nods. Steve told him he was trying to save up money to move out of his parents’ house, but it was slow going, so he started working more shifts recently to speed up the process. He’s been seeing less of Steve because of that, which Eddie hates, but he understands the urge to get out of that house.

“That sucks, man.”

Steve pouts, pink bottom lip jutting out. “Tell me about it, I look-” he gestures at his head and trails off with a huff.

“It’s not that bad,” Eddie says, but Steve raises an eyebrow at him.

“Wheeler asked if a hamster died on my head,” he deadpans.

Fucking Wheeler. He’s gonna make him regret it during tonight’s campaign.

“Please, those kids wouldn’t know a good haircut if it bit them in the ass,” Eddie says, and Steve smiles a little. “Sure, it’s- different. Not what we’re all used to, but you still look-” Handsome, hot, beautiful. “You still look good, Harrington.”

Steve’s cheeks pink up slightly. “Thanks, Munson, but I don’t feel good, I don’t know. It’s just hair and it’s stupid, but I feel off.” He groans in frustration. “Whatever, I’ll just have to wait two weeks and then-”

“Two weeks?”

“That’s when I finally get a day off.”

Eddie blows out a puff of air. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Apartments aren’t cheap, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “But I think Keith might make me manager by the end of the month. That would bump up my pay a bit, I just have to, you know, show him I can do it.”

“You got this, Stevie,” Eddie says, patting Steve’s cheek. “No one rewinds and restocks like you do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch up into a smile.

“If you two are done, we have a campaign to start!” Dustin says, appearing behind Steve and giving them both an exasperated look.

They exchange one themselves at Dustin’s tone, which they agree that he still needs to get in check.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” Steve says and Eddie tries not to jump in excitement when he realizes Steve is staying instead of just dropping off the kiddos. He’s been hanging around more and more during Hellfire meetings recently, even if he still doesn’t want to play. Eddie can’t complain about the last part, he likes just having him there.

He steps inside and Steve closes the door.

Dustin stares at Steve’s head.

“Quit staring, Henderson!” Steve protests and Dustin holds his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just bad, dude.”

These fucking kids.

Eddie whacks Dustin upside the head. “Just for that, I’m making you roll with disadvantage for every attack you make tonight .”

Dustin’s eyes bulge out. “What! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly as they walk towards the basement.

Eddie suspects that Steve doesn’t know necessarily what that means, but he still gives him a grateful smile.

***

Eddie stares at the bag of hair products in his passenger seat.

He’s always been a whatever shampoo Wayne picks up from the store kind of guy, he’s never really spent money on hair products. Until now. And they’re not even for him.

He just spent a stupid amount of money on them, mostly because, even if he remembers how some of the bottles and hairspray cans Steve uses look like from using his bathroom when he stays over, he wasn’t sure which are the ones that Steve needs. So he bought a bunch of them.

In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about the money or how it might look to Steve that he knew what hair products he uses or that he drove to another town to get them. He was only thinking about Steve’s defeated look every time someone stared at his hair or commented on it, how he self-consciously tried to fix it at work every time a customer came in, how when they hung out at his house he would hide his hair under the hood of a sweater.

But now, parked in front of Steve’s house an hour before their movie night, Eddie does think about what he did- and he seriously considers leaving the bag on Steve’s doorstep and fleeing. It’s too much. It’s too ‘I have a big crush on you and I want you to be happy so bad that I drove to another town and raided the Hair and Beauty section at a store just so you can stop walking around looking like a kicked puppy’.

But at the same time, he did this so he could see Steve smile and it would be a shame to miss it. He just hopes that Steve is too distracted by having his beloved hair products that he won’t think too hard about what Eddie did, or what it might mean.

With a short prayer to whoever’s listening so that Steve doesn’t figure out his crush today and rejects him, Eddie grabs the bag and walks up the driveway.

He knocks on the door before he can talk himself out of it, and bounces from foot to foot while he waits, hiding the bag behind him.

Steve opens the door and when he sees Eddie his eyebrows shoot up in his face, disappearing behind the few hairs that hang over his forehead. Over the last week, Steve experimented with other products, and while he managed to make his hair look a little less like something died up there, it’s still not the same. “Eddie?”

“Hey, Stevie.”

He checks his watch. “You’re early. Actually no, you’re always late so being on time is early for you, you’re like, really fucking early.”

Eddie snorts. “First of all, I’m never late, I arrive precisely when I have to.” Steve rolls his eyes. “But today I’m really fucking early, as you so eloquently put it, because I had to do some shopping first and then I drove straight here. In fact, I come bearing gifts,” he says, hands shaking a little with anticipation.

Steve eyes him curiously. “For the kids?”

“For you, my King,” Eddie says, finally allowing Steve to see the bag and presenting it to him in the most dramatic way. Hinging at the waist, holding the bag over his head, the works.

“Eddie, what are you- wait, is that- oh.” Steve goes silent when realization hits and Eddie starts spiraling. He tries to make light of it. “I humbly present to you the magic potions for your characteristic luscious hair, your Majesty.”

But when he glances up at Steve through his lashes, he looks like he’s close to crying. For a moment, he worries that he fucked up- bought all the wrong hairsprays and shampoos and now Steve is mad at him-

But then Steve is grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and yanking him up for a hug where the bag ends up squished between them.

“Christ, Eddie, thank you,” he says against his shoulder, and Eddie feels a sense of accomplishment wash over him, as well as butterflies flying in his stomach from Steve holding him like this.

One of Eddie’s arms wraps around Steve’s waist. “I don’t know if I got all the right ones ‘cause I have shit memory, but I recognized some of the bottles from your bathroom and the lady at the store helped me find your famous Farrah Fawcett spray-”

He trails off when Steve squeezes him tighter. “I can’t believe you’d do this,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Eddie hears it anyway.

“I had some shopping to do,” Eddie says casually, but it’s like Steve is squeezing the words out of him with his arms because he keeps talking. “And you’ve been walking around with your head low and those sad puppy eyes all week, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Steve pulls back and Eddie braces himself for Steve calling him out for overstepping or something, but instead he looks shyly at Eddie.

“I know it’s stupid like, it’s just hair and it shouldn’t matter that much, but it’s just- it’s important to me. I might not like “the Hair” thing but I am like, proud of my hair and this week I just haven’t felt like myself and people keep making comments and-” He shakes his head, a few rebellious strands falling on his forehead. “Anyway just, this means a lot, Eds, thank you.”

“Of course, Steve,” Eddie says with a smile. They stare at each other for a little too long, and Eddie starts fidgeting. “Now aren’t you happy that I got here so early? Gives you just enough time to get through your hair routine before everyone else gets here.”

Steve chuckles. “You don’t mind waiting while I fix this?” He gestures at his head, and Eddie shakes his.

“I can entertain myself just fine,” Eddie says, stepping inside when Steve sweeps his arm over the entrance.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Eddie grins. “Yeah, go doll up for me, sweetheart,” he teases and hears the way Steve’s breath catches, his eyes widening slightly and his cheeks tinting pink.

Then Steve moves in and places a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Thanks again, Eds,” he says and then he’s running upstairs.

Eddie stands there for at least ten minutes, red in the face, before he can make himself move.

***

Steve still hasn’t come downstairs by the time the doorbell rings so Eddie answers it.

Dustin is at the head of the arriving party and he raises an eyebrow at him when he sees him. “You’re on time,” he says, perplexed.

“And you’re a butthead,” Eddie replies and the other kids snigger behind Dustin. “Are you gonna come in or what?”

With an eye roll that is pure Steve, Dustin walks in followed by Wheeler, Sinclair and Max, and finally Robin and Nancy, who drove them all there.

Buckley narrows his eyes at him as she walks in. “Why are you on time?” She asks. “Unless you got here early so you and Steve could hang out alooone?” The way she says “alone” makes Eddie flush, which doesn’t help deny what she’s implying, even if it isn’t true.

Luckily, at that moment, Steve comes down the stairs and everyone’s attention turns to him.

“Dude, you got rid of the dead hamster finally!” Mike says and Max flicks him in the ear. Eddie smirks, that’s why she’s his favorite.

“He’s back!” Dustin cheers as soon as Steve’s hair is visible. Eddie smiles at the familiar look, but mostly at the way Steve smiles and holds himself, the slouch and the sad puppy eyes gone.

“There’s my handsome best friend,” Robin hoots and Nancy puts her thumb and index finger in her mouth and lets out an impressive whistle.

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, waving off their compliments and reactions as he reaches the ground floor. “Yes, the hair is back, we can move on now. There are movies to watch.”

He starts to usher them in the direction of the living room to get their movie night started now that they’re all here.

“Dude, I thought it would be two weeks before you could buy your hair things,” Lucas says, looking at Steve over his shoulder.

Steve freezes, his eyes darting to Eddie before he just shrugs at Sinclair, who probably doesn’t care that much about it because he just accepts that as a reasonable answer and follows the others to the couch.

The same can’t be said about Buckley.

“How did you get your hair products, Steve? ‘Cause I know you didn’t have them yesterday and you were working all day today.”

Their eyes meet again and Eddie gives a small shrug. They both know Buckley won’t drop it until she knows the truth.

“Eddie got them for me,” Steve says, mouth curling up in a smile that he directs at Eddie.

Buckley’s head snaps in his direction too, but she’s smirking, her eyes sparkling. “Oh did he?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“You drove to another town, spent time and money on gas, and then spent more money just to get Steve his hair products?”

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’, trying to be casual, but he can feel the heat on his cheeks.

“How generous of you,” she says but it sounds a lot like, ‘I see you and your big gay crush on my best friend’.

Eddie’s eyes dart to Steve. With their platonic bond it sometimes feels like they can read each other’s minds and Eddie wonders if Steve can see what she sees. He flushes brighter at the thought.

“Come on, Nance, let’s get started with the popcorn,” she says, hooking her arm with Nancy’s and dragging her away, leaving Steve and Eddie alone in the hallway.

“I’m sorry about her,” Steve says with a light chuckle. “And listen I can pay you- for the gas and for the products.”

Eddie shakes his head. “You don’t have to, I told you, they’re gifts.”

Steve ducks his head shyly and a strand of hair falls on his forehead with the movement. On impulse, Eddie reaches out to tuck it back into place. There, now Steve’s hair is perfectly styled again. He smiles. “Besides, it was worth it.”

“Oh.” Steve licks his lips a little nervously and Eddie can’t help but track the movement with his eyes. “You- you must really like my hair,” he whispers, eyes wide and expectant.

Eddie considers taking the out, making some joke about having always admired “the Hair” or something like that, but he finds that he doesn’t want to. Not with Steve looking at him like he would like hearing the truth.

So, Eddie takes a deep breath and hopes that he’s reading this right.

“I do, I really like it, but it’s not just that. You could walk around with a hamster on your head or get a buzz cut like El, and I’d still like it. I just. I like you.”

A slow grin appears on Steve’s face. “You really think I would look good with a buzz cut?”

A nervous laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “Out of everything I said that’s what you-”

Steve shakes his head, cupping Eddie’s jaw with one hand and effectively shutting him up. “No, I- I like you too, Eddie.”

He sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

And then, he grabs a handful of Steve’s shirt and pulls him towards him, crashing their lips together.

The moment they touch, Eddie lets out a low whine before he remembers that the kiddos are in the next room and Buckley and Wheeler could walk out of the kitchen any minute. So he tries to keep it down as he licks into Steve’s mouth, even if Steve kissing back just as passionately should be enough to drag more noises out of him.

It’s not until Eddie’s hands start moving from his shoulder to his neck on the way to his hair that Steve stops him, his fingers grabbing a hold of Eddie’s wrist and pulling away just enough to speak against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie chases after Steve’s mouth with another whine.

“Jesus,” Steve gasps. “We probably should- If this week proved anything is that out friends are overly invested in my hair so they’ll notice if you mess it up with your hands.” Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. Steve’s fingers catch one of Eddie’s curls, twirling it around it. “But if you want, after everyone leaves you can stay and I can, you know, pay you back for this.” He gestures at his hair.

Eddie’s brain must be melting out of his ears from kissing Steve because he dumbly says, “I told you that you don’t have to-” before he understands the meaning behind the words when he sees Steve’s smirk. “Oh. Yeah. I can think of a few ways you can do that.”

The way he waggles his eyebrows makes Steve giggle adorably, but before Eddie can kiss him about it, Robin pops her head out of the kitchen, making them jump.

“If you two are done giggling like teenagers, come help with the popcorn before the actual teenagers start a riot.”

“Aye, Captain Buckley,” Eddie says with a two-fingered salute. This time Steve muffles his giggle behind his hand.

With the other, he grabs hold of Eddie’s and starts dragging him to the kitchen. The whole time, Eddie feels like he’s floating.

He’s happy he made the trip, he’s happy he got Steve his hair products, he’s happy his hair are back to normal.

And he’s even more happy that he gets to mess it up later when he kisses Steve again after everyone leaves.

#steddielovemonth #day 29 #i wasn't planning on writing more of these prompts but this idea came to me yesterday and i ended up loving it!#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #monse writes

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rapunzelbro · 8 months

Text

Imagine Lucifer and Adam fighting over you

I would like to start off by saying sorry in advance. I have no clue about religion, if purgatory is the right term or if I’m understanding this correctly. This was what term showed when I asked in between hell and heaven. If I am not accurate please please correct me. Request: would u do a adam x reader x lucifer where basically there fighting over the reader to try and win them over to be in hell or heaven

Master list Tag request

When you died you never thought you’d end up in fucking purgatory of all things

You did you not want to deal with any of that shit? You just died and now this?

You had the option to follow through on correcting your small sins you had left, or honestly say fuck it and go live your life in hell.

You couldn’t give one less of a fuck but two specific people did and it confused the fuck out of you

Lucifer and Adam

Adam was the first to meet you since you were technically one step in the door but also at the same time not. You appeared at his doorstep practically

He explained a lot of what happened, and why you couldn’t exactly stay in heaven or hell.

He shared the remaining sins that remained for you, and how to get them forgiven,

Bud actually was willing to help someone for once?

Wtf did you do get him to help someone who is not himself? Holy shit

You only had a 4 or so left by the time you found the Hazbin hotel..

Now Lucifer was intrigued by your situation. Not many people got to that state, to his knowledge

He knew a lot about you already to begin with he totally didn’t stalk you and was pissed about the time you spent with Adam

Found out you ended up at the Hazbin hotel, since you had no real space to stay since you could go to heaven if you pleased, but not looked well upon

Charlie told him about the whole situation to try and get his advice on it all since she really didn’t know how to go about it but she desperately wanted to help you

He didn’t want to help you with your final sins though, he wanted you to stay for himself. He would never let his daughter know that.

He spent time with you often encouraging your ass to do stuff that sinners would do but you’re just so stuck on what to do so you often don’t do the things.

Lucifer and you bonded more than you and Adam

Dude just told you constantly about how horrible it sucks down there in hell

Annoyed you even more since he didn’t let you stay in heaven after saying that?

But oh yeah it’s fine because he goes down to see you🥰

What the fuck man

If you ever needed a place to stay Lucifer was always there. Even if you didn’t feel like staying at the hotel

If wanted to talk about the shit you have left to do to get into heaven he will listen

While he didn’t agree with your initial decision to finish your sins, that doesn’t mean he didn’t still care about you regardless of what you end up doing

When you got to your final sin to pass through the gates of heaven, that’s when Lucifer stepped in

“What the actual FUCK are you doing here sinner?”

“Bitch you know why I’m here”

Lucifer and then arguing over your ass while you’re just there chilling like wtf?

“Y/n do you really want to be stuck up there with this douchebag”

“Do you really wanna be with The Most Hated Being in All of Creation!”

Those two screaming at each other while you are just watching the two trying to debate on what you should do

The people of heaven who knew of you, didn’t like you in the slightest because you were never going to be a true angel in their eyes

The people in Hell couldn’t give one less fuck about your situation. You had so many friends down there who you considered practically family now.

Both giving you the most desperate looks both wanting you to go with them

“Lucifer.. I’m going with you”

The second you say that your appearance goes from the weird hybrid you were stuck in to being a full blown demon.

Adam is fucking crushed and pissed sending you two the fuck out insantly

Lucifer is so happy

“Wow you must be a mega turnoff since even all girls like what have to offer more than you~”

Gladly takes you back to his place, he has yet to explain to Charlie that you gave up on redemption.

He doesn’t want to break it to her but knows he will have to soon

But for now you picked him over that bitch and that’s honestly worth it.

Lucifer/All Taglist: @vendetta-ari @brithedemonspawn @katshyperfixations

@aphestina @satansmanager @irethepotato @mixplara

#hazbin vaggie #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin charlie #husk hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #hazbin x you

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Text

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁) || eddie munson x preppy!reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 || when your best friend (who just so happens to also be your ex) steve helps you get together with his new friend eddie, things go a little slower than you expected.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 || almost 12k lol oops

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 || SMUT (18+ only, unprotected sex and oral f receiving), fluff, some pining, very slight angst, somewhat inexperienced eddie, ex-bf!steve but also bff!steve,🍂🍁 fall vibes 🍁🍂, alcohol consumption/mild drunkenness, 'princess' petname

September 1986

“Dude, if you like her, you should just go for it,” Steve insisted.

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek for a second, staring out at the empty football field before turning to Steve on the bleachers dramatically. “And you’re sure it’s okay? I mean, with you two having gone out—”

“Of course!” Steve shrugged. “She and I have been friends a lot longer than we dated. I mean, that was, what, seven or eight months in sophomore year? It’s been years since then.”

“But you’re still so close,” Eddie noticed.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “and actually— it’s perfect! I can help you ask her out!”

“Wait, you mean like, I have a friend who likes you or something?” Eddie wondered, seeming a little suspicious as he turned his head away slightly.

“No, a little smoother than that,” Steve assured, “like a wingman! Like Top Gun!”

Eddie sighed; he almost wished Steve had never seen that movie, now he wouldn’t shut up about it.

“Actually, she already kinda told me she’s into you,” he grinned, and Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we were hanging out a few weeks ago and we played that game Fuck Marry Kill?” Steve began, and Eddie nodded. “It was you, John Stamos and Val Kilmer— she said she’d fuck you.”

Eddie gave a sideways frown.

"Dude. Seriously." Steve glared at Eddie's unenthusiastic reaction. "In that line up I was sure she'd kill you. But poor Stamos got the chop instead."

Eddie shrugged.

"Did you miss the part of the story where she said she wants to fuck you?"

But Eddie knew that wasn't what that actually meant. “I guess that’s good, but honestly, I was kind of going for ‘marry’," he admitted.

Steve laughed joyfully as he shoved Eddie’s shoulder. “Didn’t know you were such a romantic!”

“I-I mean, I’ve never had a real girlfriend before,” Eddie replied, “so I hope she wants more than to just, like, fool around. Not that I would say no to that!”

“Of course,” Steve nodded, “totally get you— I’m the same way, you know, tired of all the one-night stands.”

Yeah, except you have an endless supply and I’ve had four, Eddie thought.

“If you want, I could talk to her for you,” Steve suggested, “and get the scoop— see if she’d be interested. That way you know before you go through all the trouble of actually asking her.”

“Okay— but keep it subtle! I don’t want her to know I’ve got a crush unless it’s reciprocated.”

Steve nodded confidently. “You got it, Munson. I can be stealthy. Like a ninja.”

You were sitting on the floor throwing Sour Patch Kids, watching Steve open his mouth wide and lean to try to catch them. He got five in a row, before you threw one too much to the side and he had to dive so far that he fell on his side onto the carpet; you both laughed with your mouths full, and he kicked you by sliding his foot out over the carpet. You groaned and kicked him back, until you two were having a shoe war on the rug: his sneakers versus your loafers.

After the fight and giggles died down, a quick silence fell before it was broken. “So,” Steve said suddenly, “it’s time for me to ask my favorite question…”

“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes. “Time for the third degree.”

“Seeing anybody lately?” he grinned.

“I mean… I dunno,” you shrugged. “A few dates here and there, but nobody interesting.”

“Interesting?” he pressed. “You want an interesting guy to go out with, then?”

“What’s with all the sudden interest, Harrington?” you returned with a smirk; you only called him that when you were teasing him.

“I’m always asking about your dates,” he corrected.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re nosy,” you scoffed.

“I just thought maybe we could figure out who you should be going out with."

“Maybe I should be single for a while,” you offered instead— not because you actually thought so, but because you wanted to figure out why he was so insistent on getting you a date.

“No, see, ‘cause this is the perfect time for a new squeeze,” he assured, “you know— fall’s just started, it’s getting chilly out, leaves are turning…”

You sighed dreamily, glancing out his bedroom window at the orange and brown leaves, rustling with the breeze that you just knew was blowing in a cold front from out East.

“Don’t you just wanna cuddle up with somebody this time of year?” Steve hummed, tensing up his shoulders under his soft Lacoste sweater.

“Yeah, alright,” you agreed, “I was thinking I should get a new boyfriend for the fall. I’m guessing based on your general shiftiness that you have someone in mind?”

Steve coughed and looked away. “I mean— I just had a couple ideas.”

“Such as…?”

He thought for a second, biting his lip. “Uh, there’s Joey Shelley?”

You frowned. “He’s cute, I guess, but he’s sorta… dull?”

“Okay, then— Keith Bowen’s fun,” Steve noticed.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed, “but didn’t you go out with his sister for a while?”

“So?” he shrugged.

“Isn’t that, like, incest?” you shuddered.

Steve wrinkled his eyebrows together. “Um… no?”

“Whatever, it’s weird,” you decided. “And I dunno… he’s not really my type.”

“He’s exactly your type!” Steve scoffed. “If not him then that Ryan guy you were checking out at the theater last week.”

“I wasn’t checking him out, I was trying to figure out where he got his jeans,” you explained.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you hummed, hoping to avoid explaining further since the real answer was that you were already planning Steve’s Christmas present.

“You don’t like any of my suggestions,” he noticed.

“It’s not that! I just— all those guys are just like the guys I always go out with,” you clarified with a sigh.

“What kind of guys do you always go out with?” Steve wondered.

“You know— preppy guys! Guys like— well, guys like you, actually,” you snorted. “I mean, you old money boys are fun for a while, but…”

“But you want something new,” he suggested, surprisingly unoffended by your diss on his fellow preps (though it couldn’t be that hard of a critique coming from a preppy girl yourself), “I get it. Wanna mix it up.”

You shrugged. “I mean, maybe I should.”

“Did you talk to her?” Eddie asked excitedly as he leaned in closer to Steve, who leaned back— Eddie wasn’t so good with the ‘personal space’ thing sometimes.

“Yeah,” Steve promised.

“Will she go out with me?”

“Woah, slow down,” Steve frowned, “I thought you wanted subtle— was I supposed to ask her out for you?”

“No,” Eddie sighed, “that would’ve made it easier but— no, it’s tacky. But did she say if she would go out with me? If I asked?”

“You didn’t come up,” Steve explained, reacting to Eddie’s disappointed expression by adding: “by name! But I think she’d be into it if you asked her.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, half-frowning. “You think? So, what, she might turn me down and then I look like an idiot?”

“Munson, to be honest,” Steve sighed, “I didn’t think looking like an idiot bothered you that much.”

Eddie gave Steve a look; Steve returned by motioning his head towards Eddie’s Hellfire shirt. Eddie, staring down at his outfit, wore an offended grimace when he met Steve’s gaze again. “Hey!” he yelped sharply. “I made this myself!”

“Exactly,” Steve nodded.

“Whatever,” Eddie scoffed, crossing his arms defensively, “this is different than clothes, anyway. I don’t want her to think that all I want is a date— like, I’m cool just being friends, too. But there’s that thing where, if you ask a girl out, you can’t really be friends after that.”

“Uh, I’m her friend,” Steve reminded Eddie, “and I asked her out.”

“In tenth grade!” Eddie added. “You’re smoother than me, anyways, I don’t even know what to say—”

“Just be honest, man,” Steve instructed, “just… tell her you think she’s pretty and you wanna go to a movie or something.” Steve shrugged, as if that required no effort at all, but Eddie was terrified just imagining saying that to you.

“When?” Eddie asked— his first of many issues with that idea. “I don’t have the excuse of seeing her at school anymore, and when school’s over she’s always hanging out with you.”

Steve smiled excitedly, finally finding a part of this plan he knew he could orchestrate. “We’ll find a way,” he promised cryptically.

It was Steve’s idea to go to the record store— he said he wanted the new(ish) Human League album and frankly, you never needed too much of a reason to kill time there. It wasn’t just the music or the respite from the increasing chill outside on your bare legs (maybe the plaid skirt you chose to wear today was a bit out of season, but it was cute), it was the atmosphere itself, it was the smell: old books, new records, paper album sleeves, and whatever rosemary-and-spice candle the owner was burning somewhere.

You flipped through the stacks and scoffed at the cover of The Queen Is Dead. “You should get your own copy of this instead of continuing to indefinitely borrow mine,” you suggested to Steve flatly.

“Is the new Talking Heads album any good?” he asked as he flipped the record around and presented True Stories to you, ignoring what you’d said entirely. Steve Harrington had some of the most impressive selective hearing you’d ever encountered.

Your search wandered out of rock and indie towards pop and synth, where Steve went on a rant you’d heard before about Cyndi Lauper and you pondered trying out Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. Someone coming up to you got your attention, and you heard Steve greet him before you actually recognized him: “Munson, funny seeing you here,” he nodded.

Turning and looking up at him, you found a friendly smile under a nose tinted red from the cold wind outside— even if the leather-jacket-and-denim-vest fusion looked like it would keep him pretty warm out there. He had the latest Alice Cooper album tucked under his arm, and the flamboyant cover caught your attention for a moment before you looked at his face again.

“Oh! Hey Eddie,” you greeted joyfully. “Didn’t expect to find you in the pop section…”

You shot Steve a look as he suddenly stepped backwards and walked further away— leaving you and Eddie essentially by yourselves. Eddie was more Steve’s friend than your own, wouldn’t he want to talk with you? But you couldn’t pay that much attention when you were trying to listen to Eddie’s reply: “Oh, I listen to all kinds of stuff, actually.”

“Well, your merch isn’t so diverse,” you noticed, pointing at his shirt; he looked down at it, like he forgot what he was wearing, and smiled.

“Yeah, this is one of my favorites,” he admitted. “The band and the shirt. My uncle got me this one for my birthday last year, actually.”

“Well, it’s cool,” you decided.

“Oh, thanks,” he hummed. “I-I like your necklace. Definitely classier than a worn-out old shirt.”

“Thank you, I—” you began, though you almost lost your breath when he reached up and touched the jewelry gently. “I… got it on a trip, with my parents? To Australia…”

You felt that shivery butterfly feeling as he toyed with the pearls around your neck. Was he flirting? You hoped so. Truth be told, you never really noticed Eddie when you went to school together; well, actually, a guy like Eddie was sort of impossible not to notice, but really you didn’t do anything past noticing him. Metalhead, D&D geek, flunker— you didn’t know much beyond that, though you didn’t take issue with him like most of the other kids in your social group did. A jock flipped his lunch tray on purpose once and you helped him clean it up, but that was the extent of your interaction.

You didn’t really notice that he was cute until Steve re-introduced you a few months back. It started with thinking that he was funny— in much more of a laughing with than a laughing at way for a guy like him— and then being flattered by his chivalry. It was little things, like opening doors and pulling out chairs, but you admired it. Despite a distinctly modern look, Eddie himself was sort of a classic guy, and that charming smile was timeless.

“Australia? That’s so cool,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never even been south of Kansas.”

“It's beautiful," you agreed. “We swam in the Great Barrier Reef.”

“I, uh, watched something on the Discovery channel about that one time,” he mumbled nervously, obviously aware of how much less interesting of a story that was. “I think they said, like, ten thousand different species live there…”

“That sounds about right,” you smiled, “but I didn’t see them all, obviously.”

The conversation stalled and Eddie rocked nervously on his heels; you examined him for a moment, expecting him to break the silence any second, but he never did.

“Since when are you so shy?” you tilted your head. “You’re normally so… boisterous.”

“Well, honestly?” he breathed. “I get really shy when I, uh, when I’m trying to ask somebody out.”

It still took you a second to get what he meant— you were actually about to ask him who he was going to ask out! Then it clicked, and you smiled. “Oh,” you blinked quickly, “you mean me, right? That’s sweet. What did you have in mind?”

“I-I just figured I’d ask if you wanted to go out sometime,” he decided, “with me.”

You giggled. “I meant for the date.”

“O-oh, yeah,” he sighed, blushing slightly; you liked this version of Eddie, even if you’d been crushing on the one that was so loud and crazy. “There’s a drive-in not too far from here, and I’ve got the van… do you like scary movies?”

“No,” you admitted, stepping up closer to drag your finger over his chest, tracing the letters of his Metallica t-shirt, “but maybe when the scary parts come on, you could protect me?”

You batted your eyelashes up at him, watching his eyes dart all over your face wildly. “Y-yeah, of course,” he promised quickly. “Not to brag or anything, but I’ve watched a lot of scary movies and I’ve survived them all. So you’re safe with me.”

“Good,” you hummed, stepping back and holding onto the strap of your bag that crossed over your chest. “So you can pick me up at seven, then?”

His shock turned quickly into glee. “Yeah! I’ll see you then.”

“S-sorry, I cleaned up as best I could,” Eddie promised nervously as you hopped into the van’s passenger seat.

“Oh, it’s fine!” you dismissed quickly. “Steve’s car is always a mess— not, like, dirty, but messy for sure. Random clothes everywhere.”

“Is Harrington stripping in his car that often?” Eddie wondered, curling his lips slightly.

You shrugged. “Guess so.”

Shuddering, Eddie started the van and began the familiar route to the drive-in. The sun was already setting, and it would be dark enough for the movie soon.

It was a short, but pleasant, ride; you took the time to catch up with Eddie and get to know him a little better, since you didn’t know a lot about him past the obvious.

“I’ve got everything we’ll need tonight,” he promised, “blankets, pillows— you know, to make the back all cozy— candy, snacks— do you like Sour Patch Kids?”

“Only the yellow ones,” you admitted, and he looked at you like you were crazy— but also, like he was into it. “I know!” you yelped. “Steve says it’s proof I’m a monster.”

“Monster? No, you’re perfect,” he said, so casually, like it didn’t make your heart skip, “and those are the only ones I won’t eat, so… guess we’re a perfect match, too.”

Biting your lip, you looked back at the road ahead— Eddie had just flipped on the headlights— and felt the warm, giddy flush crawling up your face. He was a flirt, that’s for sure, even when he had this nervous energy radiating off of him.

After finding the best available spot to park for the movie, Eddie asked you to wait in the passenger while he set up the back; for a few minutes as he unfolded blankets and arranged everything, you toyed with the pearls around your neck (after he complimented them, you kept them on despite changing most of the rest of your outfit, and he noticed, saying they made you look regal, ‘like a princess or something’) and waited.

“Ta-da!” he announced with an excited flourish of his arms and a wide grin when you were finally allowed to look: the back seats had been folded down, the back hatch doors were swung open, and the whole floor was padded with a pallet of blankets and pillows. And, right in the middle, a nice big stash of movie candy classics; including, of course, Sour Patch Kids. “Comfy, right?”

“Only one way to find out,” you smiled as you climbed in. He even held his hand out for you to lift yourself up with to get in the back, even though you definitely didn’t need it.

Once you were comfortable, he laid back on the blanket with you, letting you lean in close even though the movie hadn’t started yet— you could blame it on the chill in the air, but he’d see right through that.

“You really know how to show a girl a good time, huh?” you noticed as you relaxed on the soft padding beneath you.

“I-I try,” he stammered. “It’s been a while since I’ve— m’kinda out of practice, to be honest…”

“Me too,” you admitted.

“What?” he laughed. “Getting taken out doesn’t take any practice! All you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

You batted your eyelashes at him; “How am I doing so far?”

He grinned as he tossed a blue Sour Patch Kid into his mouth. “You’re a natural, princess.”

When the movie finally did start, you were already getting that lovely jittery feeling from being so close to him, wondering if he would touch you: hoping he would, actually. Was he the kind of guy who waited until the end to kiss you? Or was he just waiting until everyone else in the surrounding cars was focused enough on the movie above for none of them to look back and see you making out?

But, you actually watched the movie for about the first act, occasionally whispering something to each other or laughing at a campy moment— and, of course, when you jumped at a scare and leaned in to him, he carefully wrapped an arm around you. Even with a relatively conservative touch, he nervously hesitated for a moment, but you found it endearing.

“Thanks for taking me out,” you whispered to him about halfway through the movie, making him look down at you.

“Y-yeah,” he agreed, looking like he was struggling a bit to focus on conversation with your face so close. “Thanks for, um, agreeing to go out with me. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

You grinned, biting your lip. “Actually, I was hoping you’d ask me soon.”

“Really?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think I was your type.”

“You’re not,” you admitted, “that’s the fun part. Something different.”

“This is different for me, too,” he agreed.

“I’m not like the girls you usually take out?” you assumed.

“In the sense that you exist? Yes,” he nodded, making you laugh almost a bit too loud. “Yes, very different.”

“C’mon, you can’t be that hopeless,” you rolled your eyes.

“This whole town thinks I’m a freak, remember?” he smirked. “Even the women— uh, especially the women.”

“Guess I don’t mind it,” you shrugged. “Maybe I’m a freak, too… once you get to know me.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The tension of the moment lingered for a few moments of silence, neither you nor Eddie looking back at the big screen above you, keeping your eyes trained on each other. For a comment as sexually-charged as what you’d said, you didn’t expect him to follow it up with something so… wholesome. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Way too tender, way too sweet for how flirty and heated the conversation that led up to it had become. But it still made your stomach flip, and you nodded, and Eddie carefully cradled your jaw in his hand as he closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours.

It was chaste and patient, at first— gentle movements in time with each other, finding the rhythm, getting familiar with the faint taste of cigarettes under the sweetness of the sour candy you’d shared.

The moment seemed like it could go on forever, like the kiss never needed to end and never needed to progress; the movie played on in the background, but you hardly paid attention, focused instead on the sounds of his breathing picking up, of the blankets shifting beneath you when he moved, of the slightest sigh that fell against your face when you ran a hand up his chest over his shirt.

You opened your mouth wider, tilting your head back, not just allowing but inviting him to kiss you deeper— and he accepted gladly, one hand cradling the back of your head delicately.

His other hand ran down your back, settling at your waist; for a second you thought he might drift even lower and grab your butt. If he did, it would be sort of tacky, but you also wouldn’t mind that much for some reason.

He brushed his fingers over your jaw and tilted his face further, suddenly gaining a little speed and intensity as he tasted you, and you had to resist the urge to moan around his tongue carefully exploring your mouth. Fuck. Heat was already gathering between your legs from a kiss like this. Maybe it was due in part to how long it had been since you’d been taken out properly, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to control yourself if he wanted more.

You gasped softly when his hand slid up your leg. He’s gonna do it— he’s gonna reach up under my skirt and touch me. And I’m gonna let him.

It was impulsive and a little irresponsible, the way you were about to let Eddie Munson finger you right here in the drive-in, but it only turned you on more to think about how naughty it was. You actually wanted him to, you were so needy—

But he stopped moving his hand when he reached your upper thigh. Instead of moving in to carefully toy with the edge of your panties and eventually slip inside, he just started rubbing your thigh with his thumb, occasionally squeezing it as he kissed you.

He broke away from your lips, making you worry it was over, but then he dipped under your face and kissed under your ear. “Oh,” you gasped softly, and you felt him smile— cocky bastard.

Your hips rocked forward a bit, but he didn’t seem to notice: you barely noticed it, since it wasn’t exactly voluntary. Your fingers clutched his shirt, tightening even more when he bit your earlobe lightly just beside the pearl studs.

He was kissing a line down your neck when you shivered briefly. “Are you cold?” he asked.

You didn’t know how to say I was just trying not to rub my pussy on your thigh, sorry, so you simply mumbled, “kinda.”

“Do you want to get under a blanket?” he offered, and that sounded like a great idea and you nodded quickly. He nabbed another folded lump of fabric from behind the driver’s seat, laying it out over the top of you, and you cuddled up closer to him as the weight draped you both. “Do you wanna, uh, kiss some more?”

You giggled a little as you nodded again, reaching up to hold the back of his neck as he kissed you— harder, faster, deeper, getting right to the good stuff. You had to really fight the urge to lift your leg and rest it on his waist, it would feel so good and so… natural, but it would also be, you know, a little slutty. But that was becoming less and less of a concern for you as your need grew stronger and stronger. “Eddie,” you let yourself sigh against his lips, and he tightened his grip on your waist to pull you closer.

“What’s that, princess?” he whispered, egging you on, and you smiled.

“Eddie,�� you said again, hearing him growl briefly in pride. He must’ve known that a kiss had never done you in quite like this, never tempted you to do things you didn’t like to do on the first date let alone in a car… in public!

You were so desperate, you could just picture it: him rolling you onto your back, settling himself between your legs and forcing them to part with the width of his hips. Kissing you harder, rutting against you, letting you feel how hard he’d become from holding you. But as much as you tried to encourage him to go a little further— tangling your fingers into his hair, moaning ever-so-softly into the kiss, arching your back (okay, that part wasn’t intentional, but you couldn’t help it)— he never bit the bait. He did literally bite you a few times, once gently on your swollen bottom lip and then twice on your neck later on, but that was as far as he went that night. When the movie ended he watched you climb back up in the front seat and drove you home— he even had the audacity to ask what your favorite part was even though he knew damn well you hadn’t been watching it.

“I liked the part where you licked my ear,” you answered, pretending to be so full of confidence, even though your heart was starting to race again as his own cheeks tinted pink.

“Y-yeah? Good to know,” he nodded as he steered the van around a corner.

There was a longer pause in the conversation as you waited for him to bring up your next date. You made it a whole twenty seconds. “Are you gonna ask me out on another date?” you finally blurted out.

“Now?” he wondered.

“I mean, that’s what you’re supposed to do, I think,” you shrugged. “I guess you could call me tomorrow morning instead, but, you could always get it over with now.”

“You know how this works a little better than I do,” he laughed. “If you’re so eager why don’t you ask me out?”

Your face got warm as he (accurately) called you out for your impatience. “I thought it was supposed to be the other way around,” you mumbled.

“I thought you were a feminist,” he retorted proudly, grinning at you.

“Okay,” you relented, unable to fight down a smile in response to his, “Steve’s throwing a party next weekend. Come with me.”

“I can do that,” he decided with a nod, “as long as I don’t have to dress up like a trust fund kid.”

You snorted. “Definitely not. I like the idea of you sticking out like a sore thumb, actually.”

“Happy to,” he grinned. “When should I pick you up?”

“I have to help Steve set the whole thing up, actually,” you replied, “so I’ll already be there— but show up at eight and I’ll have a drink ready for you.”

He got there at seven fifty-seven. He wasn’t usually so punctual, but the promise of seeing you again was a strong motivator.

You knew he’d arrived when Steve called your name from the foyer, loud enough for you to hear where you were scooping ice into cups in the kitchen. “Your boyfriend’s here!” Steve added, making your face flush— the other guests definitely heard that.

“Steve,” you whined as you dashed past him to the open door, seeing Eddie beaming at you from the welcome mat. “H-he’s not my boyfriend…”

“I’m not?” Eddie grinned with an inquisitive eyebrow as he stepped inside, kissing you on the cheek politely while Steve shut the door.

“You wanna be?” you realized.

“Duh,” Eddie laughed.

“When we’re only on our second date?”

“Princess, I wanted to be your boyfriend before we even went on one,” he replied, and your heart fluttered.

Smiling proudly, you pulled Eddie into a kiss, as Steve kept leaning on the door with one hand and resting the other on his hips; a proud grin was on his face. “I’ll be awaiting my Wingman Of The Year Award in the mail any day now,” he announced, making you break away and look at him suspiciously.

“Wingman?” you repeated.

“Y-yeah, uh,” Eddie choked, moving his hands to your waist carefully, “Steve sorta… helped me out, when I didn’t know how to ask you— it’s not important now.”

“Yeah it is,” Steve corrected, a little offended, “I just got her to make you her boyfriend— you’re welcome.”

“Oh, you’ve done it now,” you warned Eddie playfully. “Once Steve starts meddling, he can’t stop.”

“Whatever,” Steve rolled his eyes, taking his hand off the door and starting to walk backwards towards the rest of the party. “If you’ll excuse me, there are some more star-crossed lovers in need of Cupid’s assistance, so…”

He mimed the shooting of a tiny bow and arrow before he disappeared, making you and Eddie laugh. “He’s already a little tipsy, apparently,” you noticed, but Eddie’s mind had already forgotten Steve entirely as he stared at you.

“You look amazing, by the way,” he informed you, drinking in the sight of your tight dress.

“I thought we might match if I wore something black,” you explained with a grin, “I was right.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Eddie cooed, “you wanna match with your boyfriend…”

He put extra emphasis on the last word by kissing your neck gently, and you laughed as you held onto him tighter. “You really talked to Steve about asking me out?” you remembered, and you felt Eddie nod against your neck. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me— he’s not much of a secret-keeper.”

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” he worried for a moment, pulling back.

“Of course not!” you promised. “It’s sweet… really sweet, actually, imagining you telling Steve how you’re, like, totally obsessed with me—”

“Well, it wasn’t quite like that—” Eddie began to deny.

“Shh!” you stopped him quickly. “I’m imagining it, I can imagine it however I want.”

Eddie laughed. “Fair enough. Now where’s that drink I was promised?”

Over the course of the next two hours and five drinks, you and Eddie mingled with the rest of that upper crust crowd you were used to hanging with— and, yes, they were all somewhere between confused and irritated that Eddie was here. He’s with me, you kept saying, like his arm around you wasn’t obvious enough.

He even danced with you to some music you knew he didn’t actively enjoy, but that was partly the alcohol and not just his acquiescence.

As the night seemed to get louder and rowdier, you kept trying to find somewhere that you and Eddie could be, if not alone, a little less crowded. You went outside first, but it was chilly even with his arms holding you close. All the many bedrooms of the house were, uh, occupied by this point in the evening… and so, with a devilish grin, you grabbed him by the wrist and guided him to the upstairs guest bathroom— tugging him into it and shutting the door behind you.

Before he could ask why you were in the bathroom together, you stood up on your toes to get closer to him. “I’ve been thinking about you,” you whispered in his ear.

“Yeah?” he breathed, smiling. “What were you thinking about?”

“Our date,” you remembered, “how you kissed me in your van. There were all those people around… but now we’re alone…”

“O-oh,” he choked, “yeah, we are…”

“Can you kiss me like that again?” you pleaded coyly, and he gave you a slightly dumbstruck look as he nodded.

“I can try,” he whispered, pulling you into him for a kiss that made your knees falter for a half-second— though that was partly the liquor, too.

It heated up quickly, his body pressing yours back against the sink, your moans slipping in between the movements of his lips and tongue. You hopped back and sat yourself on the counter, wrapping your legs around his hips and grinning when you felt him shiver.

“Y-you’re so sexy,” he mumbled against your skin, kissing his way to your neck, making your back arch even more. When you tightened your legs around him, it forced him to press against where your dress had ridden up— and you could feel how hard he was, through his jeans and right on your dampening panties.

“Oh, fuck,” you sighed, desperate for him to rock against you, drunk on the way it felt to make his cock all stiff and throbbing like that. And also just a little bit actually-drunk, but that was only part of it.

He kept his focus on your neck, though he pulled your dress’ single strap out of the way to kiss your shoulder, too, and his fingers on your bare skin felt fucking electric; you wanted to just fall back and lay your head against the mirror, let him do whatever he wanted to you, but you hugged him tighter instead and carded your fingers through his curly hair.

“Need you so bad,” you admitted in a hushed moan by his ear, making him grunt and hold onto your hips tightly.

“You— fuck, you know we can’t go all the way in Harrington’s bathroom, right?” he whispered harshly, pulling away from your neck to look at you with dilated eyes and bitten lips.

“Why not?” you shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve done it in here anyways…”

His eyes went wide before he cleared his throat. “I— I think we should save it for someplace a little more special, don’t you?”

You smirked at him. “Okay,” you agreed, “but we can still mess around, right?”

He grinned mischievously as he answered, “Yeah.”

“Good,” you beamed, hopping up off the counter and spinning him around suddenly to pin him back against it, “cause I wanna blow you.”

“Blow—! Blow me?!” he blurted out. “Oh, I—”

You started to drop down on your knees, but you felt his hands hold tightly onto your arms to keep you up; and you tilted your head as you looked up at him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded quickly, “it’s just— I don’t want you to think you have to do that.”

“Oh, Eddie— I don’t think I have to,” you assured, “b-but if you want me to, I’d like to…”

He surprised you by pulling you into another kiss— not rough, but definitely a little hard as he pressed his lips to yours. Never one to question a kiss, you submitted to it and slipped your arms around his shoulders. It went on for a while, almost too long, and you started to wonder if he was ever going to let you get back on your knees for him; why was he stalling?

When he broke away, he pulled you into a tight hug. “Is everything okay?” you finally asked him.

“I don’t wanna take things too fast,” he whispered, and your heart swelled. Oh my god, I’ve found the world’s best man, you thought, knowing how rare it was for a guy to think with the head on his shoulders.

You pulled back and smiled up at him. “That’s sweet,” you decided, and he smiled back at you as he brushed his hand over your hair to softly pet your head.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “We’ve got something special, I think— and the last thing I wanna do is mess it all up by rushing this.”

You leaned forward to kiss him quickly, and he smiled against you before you pulled back. “You’re so wonderful,” you hummed at him, feeling your chest warm even more as you realized you finally found a guy who liked you for you, and not just what you could do for him.

“I’m wonderful?” Eddie repeated incredulously. “Every guy out there wishes he’d been the one that brought you here tonight, you know— and none of them can believe it’s me instead. You do realize that?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a shy giggle, taking his hand quickly. “Let’s go back out there so you can rub it in a little more, okay?”

“Okay,” he laughed as he followed you back into the hallway and through the crowd, shutting the guest bathroom’s door behind you.

You tried not to bring it up again after that, not to initiate anymore— because the way you’d left things it felt like Eddie would let you know when the time was right. Him being such a gentleman wasn’t what you’d expected— not that you thought he’d be rude and pushy or anything— but it was a pleasant surprise. Even better was imagining how wild he’d be once he finally caved and just couldn’t wait to have you any longer.

October 1986

“So, what did you wanna talk about?” Steve finally prompted as you walked side by side on the trail, leaves in every warm-toned shade decorated the earth around you. He knew you were going to keep stalling, even though you’d called him and asked if you could walk to the coffee shop together and ‘talk about something important’, unless he brought it up first. You sighed— you’d wanted to stall just a bit longer, but maybe you might as well get it over with.

“Well, I feel kinda weird talking to you about this…” you trailed off.

“Me? You tell me everything,” Steve explained.

“But Eddie’s your friend,” you sighed, and Steve stopped walking— so you did, too.

“Wait,” Steve got stern quickly, “is everything okay? He’s not hurting you is he? Do you think he’s cheating? ‘Cause I—”

“Nonono,” you interrupted quickly, “it’s fine— he’s great. He’s… amazing.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, “you just let me know if he’s doing anything messed up to you, okay?”

“That’s the thing,” you frowned, crossing your arms tightly, “it’s more of what he’s not doing to me…”

“Huh?”

“Well, we’ve been going out a while now,” you began, “and I guess I thought— well, usually, by this point— you know I’m not a slut!”

He blinked rapidly at the sudden change in topic. “W-well, yeah! What’s that got to do with it?”

“I don’t like to put out on the first date,” you explained, “not even the second or third— I like to take things a little slower, it pisses some guys off but it pisses off the right guys so they can dump me if that’s all they want.”

“Right,” Steve agreed. “I should try that…”

“Yeah, right,” you rolled your eyes, knowing Steve wasn’t going to be able to keep up with a no-sex-on-the-first-date rule for long. “Anyways, my point is, with Eddie… I was actually gonna go all the way with him on our first date."

"Woah!" Steve laughed, but he raised his hands up when you glared at him. "No judgment! Seems like it worked out, anyways."

"N-no, I was going to, but then we didn't."

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Then at your party…"

"Oh god," he shuddered, "just tell me you didn't use any of my mom's nice hand towels…"

"No! Steve, we didn't do it there," you groaned, "he actually told me that he wants to take things slow."

"Oh," Steve relaxed, "cool— I guess he's pretty serious about you."

You nodded, remembering when you thought of it the same way, but that logic was less comforting now.

"So, how long did he wait before you…?"

You looked at Steve, eventually raising your eyebrows to try to signal him wordlessly, but it took him a couple seconds to put it together. "Oh, shit!" he yelped. "You haven't, still?!"

"He must think I'm hideous," you assumed immediately, hiding your face in your hands.

"I'm sure it's not that," Steve tried to assure you.

"What would it take for you to not sleep with your girlfriend after a month and a half?" you pressed.

"Uh…" Steve stalled, biting his lip.

You crossed your arms, waiting impatiently. "Let me guess: an apocalyptic event of Biblical proportions?"

"Yeah, something like that," he admitted.

"See! He's not into me at all," you whimpered.

"No way," Steve insisted, "he was crushing on you hard way before he asked you out. He told me! He only waited as long as he did 'cause he thought I'd have a problem with it, for whatever reason."

"So what changed?"

Steve pondered that. "Uh," he realized suddenly, "you don't think he's got, uh…"

Steve whistled as he held up his pinky finger, and you choked on your own throat. "We've done stuff, you know," you informed him, "and from what I can tell, that's… not the issue. At all."

"Okay, okay," Steve waved his hands, “spare me the gory details.”

“I don’t have gory details, I haven’t even seen it,” you whined.

“But it feels normal?” he prompted.

You shrugged. “Through jeans.”

“Huh,” Steve considered, “maybe he’s worried about how it looks, then. Maybe it’s all… weird-looking.”

You grimaced. “I mean, maybe…”

“Maybe it’s like, a zombie dick!” Steve exclaimed.

“You’ve been watching too many scary movies,” you rolled your eyes— this is what happens when you watch horror movies every day in anticipation of Halloween, apparently.

“Or maybe it’s an alien that controls his mind!” Steve continued regardless.

“Pretty sure all guys’ minds are controlled by their dicks, Steve,” you sighed. Except my boyfriend, the metalhead prude.

You and Eddie had been watching horror movies to get in the spooky spirit as well… you just hadn’t been watching them as effectively.

“Eddie,” you giggled as he kissed up your neck, tickling you with the tip of his tongue. He traced the shape of your ear and you groaned, pushing on his shoulders slightly as your back arched.

“I thought you liked that,” he teased.

“I-I do,” you admitted.

“Then say it,” he prompted; your thighs clenched.

“I… I like that,” you whimpered, “fuck, Eddie, s’good…”

He hummed proudly and latched his teeth onto your neck again, pressing his chest up against yours. It reminded you how hard your nipples had become, and you found yourself reaching to find one of Eddie’s hands on your lower back, guiding it up up up until he was grabbing at you through your shirt. “Fuck,” he grunted by your ear, “wanted me to feel your tits, coulda just asked, princess.”

He was definitely an auditory kind of person, liked to hear you say it all: feels good, right there, touch me, kiss me— only thing he didn’t like to hear was do we have to stop now?

Because it always stopped too soon for your tastes; you’d been camping out at second base for ages, and not that you didn’t love the way Eddie’s fingers teased your little buds at the same time that his thick hands groped your whole chest appreciatively— not that you didn’t love the way he swore you were perfect, voice low and rough as he showered you in compliments and oh-so-politely asked permission to put his mouth on them. But god, if that was the way he teased you here, you could only imagine how it would feel on your clit, those expert fingers rubbing you as he watched your face fall into ecstasy, as he told you he would put a few inside to warm you up for his cock…

Literally, you could only imagine it. It was driving you actually fucking crazy.

He hummed as he pushed your shirt up, latching onto your nipple the second one was exposed to him, and you cried out loudly— probably loud enough for one of the neighboring trailers to hear, honestly. Not that you had the energy to care about that now.

“So sensitive,” he mocked lightly, flicking the bud over and over with the end of his tongue for a second. “Are they always like this?”

No, only when you’ve been edging me for seven weeks. “J-just for you,” you stammered out, and he hummed quickly before moving on to the other, tilting his head— he looked damn good like that, eyes shut with his lashes resting on his cheeks, mouth open just enough to fit your nipple inside, full lips suckling at you. “You’re pretty,” you blurted out, and he blinked those big eyes open to smile up at you.

“Me?” he chuckled. “Nah, no way.”

“Yeah you are,” you insisted with a laugh, sitting up slightly. “You’re hot, actually.”

You reached for his shoulders and guided him back, until he was sitting properly on the couch again (which he hadn’t been since ten minutes into the movie when he descended on you) and you were the one leaning over him. “Oh,” he gasped a bit when you straddled his lap; the energy changed a bit.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly.

“U-uh, yeah,” he nodded, and you smiled as you rested your hands on his shoulders before you kissed him again. It was a little different this time, it felt less like fooling around and more like… something important. His hands didn’t stay glued to your chest this time, they wandered carefully to your exposed back, holding you delicately like you were breakable; his kiss was delicate, too, everything felt more patient. You thought it couldn’t get any better than that heat-of-the-moment feeling, that playful energy you had before, but the sensuality of this was newer and even more addictive.

You sighed as you moved in his lap— not of your own accord, just your body surrendering to instinct. Your hips sought any friction they could find and your hands searched his chest for a good place to latch on to; they ended up sliding over his neck and into his hair, which made him softly moan as you tugged on the messy locks.

“Princess,” he choked, “fuck— you’re so… fuck.”

You rocked your hips a little slower, but pressed down harder into his lap, and both of you groaned as you rubbed right on the firm bulge under his fly. “Eddie,” you whimpered, feeling his fingers tighten at your waist, “I— I want you…”

Your heart sank as he gasped and pushed you back. “M-maybe we should slow down a bit,” he decided suddenly. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you stared down, sitting on his knees.

“Um… okay…” you mumbled quietly. You hadn’t really tried to get things going since Steve’s party, but you didn’t really suspect that if you did, you’d be outright rejected. It wasn’t something you were used to in a time like this. “Do you… still wanna kiss?”

“Yeah!” he said quickly. “I just… I don’t wanna take things too fast.”

That excuse was cute a month ago. Your shoulders slumped defeatedly and you pulled your shirt down again— but you still felt uncomfortably exposed, somehow, and you wrapped your arms around yourself to try to distract from the empty feeling inside.

“Oh god, princessl, what’s wrong?” he cooed quietly. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know… but can you tell me what’s going on?” you pleaded. “Is it me? You are attracted to me, right?”

“What?! Of course I am,” he shook his head, bewildered by your insecurity. As if that was something you should’ve figured out by, what, clairvoyance?

“I’m just not sure what to think,” you mumbled. “I wanna go further— and I don’t wanna, you know, force you or pressure you or anything, but to be totally honest… I’ve never had to talk a guy into sex before. And I can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong.”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he promised, “at least not with you. I do wanna, you know, take the next step with you. It’s been driving me crazy to keep stopping you when you offer… all that stuff…”

“So why turn me down?” you pouted. “If we both want it, what else is there to worry about?”

He sighed slightly as he glanced away.

“C’mon, Eddie, is something going on?” you pleaded. “Just talk to me. Whatever it is, I wanna know.”

“Well, yeah,” he relented, “it’s… it’s me, it’s this thought I have every time I try to take things past just making out.”

You waited patiently for his explanation, wringing your hands nervously.

“You and Steve went out for… a while,” he recalled. “And, you know, he’s— got a reputation. A very good one.”

“Oh,” you sighed.

“And he’s, uh… been with a lot of girls,” Eddie continued nervously. “I-I’m not a virgin or anything, but I’ve never actually had a girlfriend before, so…”

“So?” you encouraged.

“I guess I just… I’m worried that I won’t be as good as him,” he finally admitted. “Actually, I’m about ninety-five percent confident I won’t be as good as him— and if I’m not, maybe you… won’t wanna go out anymore.”

“Eddie,” you sighed, equal parts relieved and heartbroken and bewildered. You reached up and held his face in both your hands, making him look at you. “I wanna be with you. Not Steve, or anybody else.”

“And when you say be with…” he trailed off.

“I mean that in every sense,” you clarified. “I like going out with you, I love being your girlfriend. And I want us to do what boyfriends and girlfriends do— I want us to, you know… touch each other, and pleasure each other…”

You lowered your voice, moving in a little closer on his lap, and his gaze seemed to get a little heavier.

“Feel each other,” you continued, “and explore, you know? ‘Cause yeah, it will be different than it was with Steve. But Steve and I had to get to know each other before it was really great. I think once we get a chance to practice, we’ll be even better.”

“Practice?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you grinned, “that’s the fun part.”

Eddie blinked at you quickly. “I— I guess it’s different when you’re dating, huh? Because I’ve never had a chance to, uh, improve for next time. I’ve never had a next time before.”

You smiled. “Well, if things go my way,” you explained, leaning in closer beside his face, “there’s gonna be a next time—” you kissed his cheek, “and a next time—” you moved around and kissed the other— “and a next time…”

He shuddered when you placed a quick peck on his jaw. “Okay,” he breathed, “I like the sound of that. But… I want our first time to be… you know, really amazing and stuff.”

You laughed. “After all this damn anticipation, I’m sure it will be. You drove me crazy making me wait so long, Eddie.”

He coughed; “S-sorry,” he offered, “I wasn’t trying to, I swear. And it drove me crazy, too. I honestly wanted to make it with you right then and there in my van at the drive-in on our very first date— but I figured I’d get slapped if I tried that.”

You bit your lip as you leaned in a little closer. “Eddie, I would’ve let you,” you whispered. “I was so hot for you, I wanted you so bad…”

He swallowed as he blinked up at you. “I-I didn’t think you were that kind of girl,” he admitted, and you giggled.

“I’m not,” you promised, “I just couldn’t help it when you kissed me like that. I was totally yours, Eddie, from the first kiss.”

His fingers squeezed your hips and you purred. “God, that’s— you’re so perfect,” he sighed. “I-I was honestly afraid I would bust in my jeans that night,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “and then at Harrington’s party, when you said you wanted to…? I was toast.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You know, that offer still stands if you want me to—”

“Oh, fuck no,” he laughed, “I’m already gonna be fighting to last once I get inside you, don’t need you getting me all worked up with that pretty mouth you’ve got.”

His finger traced your lips and you opened them to suckle on the end of it; his lip twitched and you felt his hips rock up against you.

“Fuck,” he grunted, “let’s go to bed, angel, I think we’ve waited long e-fucking-nough.”

Of course, ‘let’s go to bed’ makes it sound more cooperative— really he all but carried and dragged you across the trailer to his bed, tossing you onto it and peeling his shirt off in a second before he descended onto you. Giggling, you held the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss you sweetly.

Your shirt didn’t last long, either, but he was more interested in getting your skirt and stockings off; and thank god for that, because you didn’t need any more foreplay after getting teased for the past… sixteen, maybe seventeen dates? You lost count a while ago.

He propped himself up on one arm above you, looking down with his bottom lip between his teeth as he saw your panties. You bit your lip, too, at the sight of his expression— of his eyes darkening a bit and his chest filling with a deep breath.

“Oh, princess,” he cooed, making you shiver joyfully. “Look at these…”

His fingers traced the lacy edge of your underwear, toying quickly with the little bow at the front. “That tickles,” you mumbled, and he met your gaze again with a grin.

“These all for me?” he assumed, and you nodded. “Wanted to get all dressed up for me, in case I finally took you to bed?”

“Something like that,” you admitted. You hadn’t worn nice panties to every date, as your hope for more than back-of-the-bus level touching faded, but thankfully something told you to wear them to this one. That ‘something’ being Steve.

“They’re cute,” he decided, “all… girly, and delicate, like you.” He lifted your legs slightly, and his playful attitude shifted to something a bit more intense. “And they’re— fuck, baby— they’re soaked.”

You wiggled your hips, slightly self-conscious about him staring at the wet patch on your blush lace. “Th-that’s just what you do to me,” you replied, just before he shut you up with another bruising kiss, pressing his body down on yours. Even just his bare chest against your own was soothing and warm.

He rocked his hips against yours, pressing the bulge under his fly right up to that wet spot on your panties; you could feel the ridge of his head, the way his cock throbbed, even his balls pressing up to your ass through the denim. “That,” he whispered into your lips, “is what you do to me.”

“Fuck,” you whined, “I wanna— lemme feel you, Eddie, please, I w-wanna… wanna touch you there.”

“Where?” he prompted teasingly.

“Your cock,” you groaned, and he sat up to start working on his belt.

“Coulda just said so,” he insisted with a wink, admiring the way you looked all wide-eyed and needy as you watched him open his jeans.

If only it had been that easy; but you were sure the wait would be worth it, especially when you saw the thick outline of his cock through the checkered boxers. It looked even bigger than it felt before— actually, you were a little light-headed looking at it all of a sudden.

You were reaching up for the waistband already but he stopped you, grabbing your hands and grinning mischievously as he pinned them at your sides. "Ah ah, not yet," he corrected teasingly, "I wanna see you first. You wrapped your pussy up like a little present for me, don't I get to open it?"

You wouldn't have minded if he opened that present the way he actually opened presents: tearing at the paper ferally. But instead he removed your panties slowly and delicately, like one of those people who unsticks the tape and saves the paper. Except instead of that he was sliding his fingers down your thighs, watching the lace unstick from your damp folds, groaning low in his chest as you were revealed to him.

It wasn't until the panties were past your ankles and tossed aside that you could open your legs— or, more accurately, that he could carefully guide your legs to spread for him— and he stared down with his lip between his teeth at your pussy. You felt a little awkward being examined like that, but it was all worth it for the way his nostrils flared, the way he brought his thumb to the point where your lower lips met and pulled your sex taut for a better look at your swollen button, the way he sighed and tilted his head back for a moment with his eyes shut— like it was too much to look at it for that long, like he needed a break to cope with the perfection before him. "Baby," he all but moaned as he stared down at it again— and then at you, at your shy face waiting for him to say something. "So fuckin' pretty. Shit, gotta be the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

You bit down on your smile as he laid down over you again, kissing you hungrily. You felt him start to push his own boxers down and you weren't about to let him do it all by himself, so you reached down between your body and his to grab his erection— and you both groaned as you held it.

"Mm," he hummed, kissing your neck for a moment, "your hands are soft…"

But his sweet tone shifted a bit as you wrapped your legs around his hips, making him press forward enough for you to guide his squishy head right over your folds.

"Fuck," he whispered harshly, "y'wanna put it in for me, princess?" He seemed amused by your eagerness, after spending the last month and a half making you this desperate. "Just can't wait anymore, need me too bad?"

You whimpered, but nodded. He pulled his face back from where it had nestled by your neck and looked down at you with a smile. His gaze had softened a bit, something sweet and gentle in his stare. "Need you, Eddie," you agreed before he could even ask you to just say it, princess.

He kissed you again, a little more patiently, and let you move his cock right up to your hole that had been flexing helplessly since this all started. He kept kissing you even as he pushed inside, both of you gasping together at the feeling.

“Oh, Eddie,” you sighed into his mouth fallen slack, holding tightly onto his shoulder blades. “Is that— are you all the way in?”

“Just a little more,” he whispered, “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

You shook your head, and he gave you the rest with a gentle thrust into the end of you; you arched your back, but it wasn’t too difficult to take. He was thick enough that maybe it should’ve stung, but after this much anticipation you were beyond prepared.

“Wow,” he panted, right into your slack-open mouth, “you feel like fucking heaven.”

His pace was gentle and slow at first, each of his breaths hot puffs across your face before he had to hug you tighter, hold you closer, bury his face just above your shoulder. Your walls hugged onto him tight, just like your legs wrapped around his hips, and he breathed in the scent of your heated skin by the crook of your neck.

With each stroke you dragged your nails lightly across the back of his neck, tangling your fingers into his mess of curls.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the sound of it, the wet noises that filled the trailer each time Eddie's hips collided with your own.

"Fuck," he sighed right by your ear, "princess— you're so… so fucking wet…"

That much was obvious, but hearing the way it made Eddie practically melt was amazing. His voice broke with each moan beside your ear, every slide against your dripping walls, every plunge into your warmth. He picked up the pace quickly, struggling to hold himself back anymore.

He whined out your name a few times, his clammy hands slipping under your back and keeping you hugged tightly against him. "S-so good," he grunted, "you're so good, princess, feel so good for me— fuck."

Turns out, Eddie was just as talkative during sex as he was at all other times. And thank god for that, because hearing him talk made you shiver all over, even inside. "Eddie," you whimpered, feeling the curve of his cock stroke right on that place inside— at just the same time that his hips were rubbing on your clit from the gyrating motion of his thrusts. "Fuck— right there, right there—"

"Like that?" he noticed. "This how you like it, baby?"

"Yes," you promised. "Yes, yes, yes…"

He kept his motions the same but moved a little faster, skin slapping on yours and your whole body rocking up and down— or maybe it was the mattress under you… or maybe it was the trailer itself. Possibly all of the above.

His mouth was wide open just by your neck, every soft grunt and panted breath falling out for you— and they were getting louder the longer he went on, his grip on your back was tightening. You knew he was close already from all of that plus the way you felt his cock jump inside you, and it turned you on like nothing else.

"Princess," he whined, "you— god, you… fuck."

You giggled a bit at the way he had failed completely to finish whatever sentence he'd started.

"Aw, don't laugh at me," he pouted slightly, though the way he had to talk through his teeth made it sound almost like a threat— and you really liked that. "Can't help it, I can't fucking think straight when I'm inside you— Christ I still can't believe it, you know. That you want me. You could have anybody— fuck— and you feel fucking perfect and— god I dunno how much more of this I can take."

As good as it felt, you weren't quite there yet— you weren't even close, really. It always took you a while to finish, but Eddie clearly didn't have a while: he was already all red in the face and moaning weakly into your neck, fucking you with needy and erratic thrusts. But you didn't even care; it was so sweet, seeing him lose his cool so quickly, you didn't mind if you weren't left quite as satisfied at the end of this. It was worth it to watch him fall apart and know you were the cause.

“Fuck, fuck!” he whined. “Oh— fuck, I don’t wanna come yet, I shouldn’t come yet—”

But you could see it was killing him; his face was tightened up so hard and he couldn’t seem to force himself to slow down. “It’s okay,” you promised, “it’s okay, you can come, Eddie…”

“Oh my god oh my god,” he rushed in a split second, “I-I’m gonna come. Fuck, I can come inside, right?”

You laughed lightly. “Yeah,” you assured.

“Good, ‘cause, I dunno if I can pull out,” he admitted.

In a second he was slamming his hips into yours, desperately chasing release— and your moans got louder and sharper at the feeling.

"Fuck, baby, fuckfuckfuck—!" he whimpered, moving his hands to your hips to keep you as still as possible; and suddenly, he sunk down and deflated with a long sigh, and knowing he was coming inside you made a tingle crawl up your back.

He only took a half second to catch his breath and blink his eyes open before he was looking at you apologetically.

“I’m so sorry,” he panted right away, “you didn’t—”

“Hey, it’s fine,” you promised, “like I said, there’s always next time—”

“No,” he said firmly, surprising you. “This time. You need to come this time, too.”

"W-well, I—" you started, cut off when his thumb found your slick and throbbing nub and stroked it in careful circles. Instantly your hips jumped and your walls seized up, a shaky breath slipping out of your lips. "Oh…"

"S'that better, princess?" he cooed, still breathing heavily— he hadn't even lost his boner yet, and the feeling of your pussy bearing down on him from pleasure was surely helping to keep it alive. "Tell me how it feels."

"Good," you choked, feeling him press harder on it, "fuck, I— I like it when you touch me there…"

"Mhm?" he encouraged. "Like when I rub your clit?"

You sighed; "Yeah, fuck, Eddie— I like it—"

He pulled out suddenly and climbed down, kissing and biting hungrily at your inner thighs before you'd even processed what was happening. It made your hips lift off the bed, the way his teeth teased your sensitive skin, and the pressure of that forced a thick drop of his come out of your cunt.

When he saw it, his eyebrows knitted and his chest sunk— he almost looked heartbroken just from the sight of it.

"God, that's too perfect," he groaned, "I got you so full, princess, you can't even fit it all inside— it's dripping, baby, fuck, that's my come dripping out of you right now…"

He held your thighs and stared right at it, watched that creamy white drop run down the seam of your ass, your little hole flexing right in front of his face— and he couldn't help it, he had to dive in and lick it up.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he latched onto you, hot and hungry mouth tasting every inch of your cunt that his tongue could reach.

"Eddie!" you yelped, shocked but overwhelmingly aroused that he was doing something so… well, filthy. Eating his own come from you after pumping it so deep into you; and he seemed to be just as pleased, shutting his eyes tight and moaning as his plunged his tongue inside you and lapped up the mix of his come and your wetness.

He broke away for just a second, panting, looking up at you with glassy eyes. “We taste so good together,” he said, like he didn’t even notice how sexy that was to say. He went in again to lap at you, taking more time over your clit this go-round— and making your legs shake a little when he did. His eyes darted to the side as he noticed it, a grin breaking out around his extended tongue which he slipped back into his mouth. “Oh… I like when you do that. Think I’ll have to see if I can make you do it again.”

He gave another wide lap of his tongue over your bud, pressing down hard until your legs shook again. He kept his tongue still and nodded his head up and down slightly, and it just happened over and over until your back was arching up off the bed and were clutching at his hair in hopes of mercy. “F-fuck, Eddie, feels really good,” you managed to choke out.

But it was just the beginning, and a second later he wrapped his lips around your bud and suckled at it— almost too hard, but just the right amount of too hard.

“Oh god!” you shouted before you could stop yourself. “Fuck!”

He hummed proudly and kept going, swirling his tongue over the delicate skin as you whimpered and sobbed. It was intense and sharp, hot shocks of pleasure jumping up through your body.

"I'm gonna come!" you shouted— too loud, too whiny, too beautifully pathetic. "Eddie, baby, please—"

You had no idea what you were asking for, but he hummed and nodded without breaking away, and you were sure that whatever it was, he would give it to you.

Both your hands held onto his head and you started to just writhe, there wasn't much else you could do. Paradoxically, as you started to reach the peak, your body fought to get away from the sensation— like it was too much, like you were scared to come this hard. But Eddie held you to your promise to come, fighting to stay latched onto you even as you bucked and almost screamed; and then, once it hit you, it was over in a flash. The white-hot pleasure burned you up in a moment and you had to actually push his head away before it hurt too much.

"Fuck, fuck," you panted, sighing with relief as he let go and grinned up at you with a smile soaked in your cream.

"Did you come?" he asked excitedly, as you collapsed back limply onto the mattress.

"Are you kidding?" you wheezed, and he laughed softly as he climbed back up to lay down next to you, draping an arm over your waist. “I— fuck, Eddie,” you laughed breathlessly, “nobody’s ever made me come that way before.”

“Not even Steve?” he beamed.

“Not even Steve,” you agreed.

"So… that means I'm… better than him?" Eddie prompted hopefully.

"Eddie, it's not about that," you frowned, "it's— you're totally different, it's apples and oranges."

"Okay but, between apples and oranges, which one is better at sex?"

You shoved him on the shoulder but he pulled you into a tight hug, keeping you close even when you wanted to squirm away and leave him alone as punishment for bringing this up.

"Just tell me so I can rub it in Harrington's smug little face tomorrow," Eddie pleaded, and you laughed a bit.

"I'm gonna be too busy rubbing it in your smug little face tomorrow," you warned him with a raised eyebrow, and he grinned excitedly. "I— actually, can I sit on your face sometime? I've always wanted to try that."

"O-okay, yeah, we can do that instead," he nodded eagerly. "Whatever you want, princess."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction

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jasmines-library · 9 months

Note

Hey. Could you please do a Winchester!sister reader fic like the mystery spot episode where Dean dies over and over but can you have the reader be the one who dies over and over again while the boys watch

Groundhog Day

Note: Once again apologising for my lateness but here we are! I actually also wrote this yesterday but I thought it was only fitting to release this on a Tuesday.

warnings: death *and lots of it, It's mystery spot*, grief kinda, time loops, swearing.

Word count: 3.5k

⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤

‘Heat of the moment-’

Sam sat up abruptly, awoken by the sudden racket that filled the room. After sitting up groggily and allowing his eyes to adjust to the light he glanced at the clock, hardly noting the time before he turned to his brother who was surprisingly already up and raring to go, having made his bed which he was now perching on as he laced together his boots. He felt the blankets shift around him as you tried to bury yourself into the mattress, bringing the covers over your head to try and block out some of the noise and fall back to sleep.

“Rise and shine, Sammy.”

“Dude.” Sam blinked, swiping his hair from his eyes. “Asia?”

“Come on. You love this song and you know it.”

Sam rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, and if i hear it again, I’m going to kill myself.”

“Be quiet.” You murmured from behind the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut and rolling over. You knew it wasn’t going to happen but you were trying to cling onto the idea of getting more than 4 hours of sleep for once.

Dean took a break from trying his shoes to reach over and turn the dial on the radio. The song blasted louder from the speakers. He raised his voice with a grin “What? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.”

Sam let out a light chuckle, still bleary with sleep as you sighed and sat up. Dean was still grinning at you before he began to mouth along to the words of the song. You shook your head at him before hauling yourself up and making your way to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Dean had decided that he was going to be annoying today. You weren’t sure if it was because he didn’t want to go on the hunt and he was trying to delay it or something or if it was simply because he was being Dean. You decided on the latter because his keenness to be up and ready this morning was unusual. It started with the gurgling when he was brushing his teeth. Then, just as the three of you were about to leave, despite being up before either of you he had forgotten his pistol leaving you and your other brother standing impatiently by the door while he rooted around the motel room for it. He was irritating in the car too and you were itching to jump out of the Impala, praying for the day to end.

The diner was hardly busy when Dean pulled into the driveway. There were only a few cars belonging to passers by occupying the spaces. After securing your pistol in the pocket of your jacket the three of you headed inside. You decided to stick close to Sam; you had an odd feeling about this hunt and weren’t entirely sure what it was but something just wasn’t sitting right with you. Your brothers entered one of the booths and you slid down beside Dean who let out a content sigh as he scanned the menu.

“Hey, tuesday. Pig in a poke.” he read, gesturing to the sign.

“Do you even know what that is?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

The eldest brother opened his mouth to answer only to fall short of his words. Sam gave him a smug look and then pair fell into some sort of childish bickering that you weren’t really paying attention to. You were too busy scanning every inch of the room still unable to shake that uneasy feeling from your mind. Something just wasn’t right. Everything seems so…perfect. It made your skin crawl and you bit your lip.

“Hey.” Sam nudged you under the table with his knee, he had noted the way that you had gone silent and that you were fiddling with your hands restlessly. He knew almost straight away that something was up. You twisted to face him. “You okay?”

“Yeah. yeah.” You muttered. “Sorry.”

You nearly let out a sigh of relief when the waitress came over and distracted your brother's attention away from you. You hated the way that they stared when they were concerned about you. The three of you rattled off your orders before Dean leaned back in the chair, stretching his arm back behind you to lounge about as you all discussed the plan, only interrupted once by the waitress bringing your food and accidentally spilling a bottle of hot sauce which tumbled to the floor and smashed into tiny pieces.

The rest of the day passed by quickly after that.

You did not like the look of the so-called ‘mystery spot’. It was all overly commercialised, filled to the brim with strange and amusing objects that stuck out at odd angles or were glued to the ceiling. The darkness of the room mixed with the obscurity of the place made it come across as quite disorientating. You supposed that was the point. Your strange feeling from this morning was still lingering. You and Dean moved around with flashlights as Sam waved around the EMF. But it was silent.

“Find anything?” You asked.

Sam shook his head.

“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” Dean said rather loudly. He was still set on the idea that this hunt was a complete waste of time and had decided to make it everyone else's problem.

“Uh… yeah.” Sam shrugged until you gave him a look and he dropped his shoulders. “No.”

It wasn’t long after you set off to explore again that Dean’s gun was being cocked. Somehow someone had managed to catch you off guard, causing the three of you to whip around alarmed when his shaky voice boomed through the room.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” He demanded. The man was small and scrawny and would normally be no match against Winchesters, but he was wielding a gun that he didn’t seem to know how to use and his unstable finger was hovering dangerously close to the trigger.

“Woah. We can explain.” Dean started, raising his gun in surrender and gesturing for the two of you to follow suit.

The man moved his weapon uncertainly. “You robbing me?”

“No.” You told him. “Nobody’s robbing you, calm down.”

Dean began to lower his gun, but this only wound the man up more.

“Don’t move!” He demanded. “Don’t!”

“I’m just putting the gun down.” Dean tried to reassure him, but the man was having none of it.

He raised his gun, but before he fired he spotted you moving out of the corner of his eye.

Sam, as worrying of a brother as ever, gestured with a tilt of his head for you to move toward him. He knew that you were perfectly capable of protecting yourself, but it made him feel ten times better to know that you were hidden behind his lumbering frame, especially given the recent circumstances that had resulted in so much loss between the three of you. Your movement however, combined with Dean’s haste to put down his gun startled the man and with a fast flick of his arm he had pulled the trigger.

No one had any time to think before your pained scream filled the room. It was quick and short as the bullet lodged itself within your chest and you collapsed to the ground, writhing with an agony so intense that it made white spots dance in your vision like little stars.

“Y/N!” Sam cried out, moving quickly to bridge the short distance to your side where you lay in pain on the cold ground. Sam slid an arm around your back as your other brother dropped to his knees next to you, hovering his hand over your chest where blood had already begun to pool through and seep into your shirt. He was frozen with terror unsure what to do at the sight of your pained expression or the way that your hands clutched feebly at the hem of Sammy’s jacket.

“Call 911.” Sam demanded, turning to face the man who stood there white as a sheet.

“I-I didn’t mean-”

“Now!” Dean yelled.

You whimpered at the yelling. It cuts through your already pounding head adding to the concoction of your agony. You couldn’t see straight, couldn’t hear properly, couldn’t feel anything besides the burning fire in your chest that spread through your lungs like a disease. Your head lolled back against Sam’s arm as you began to taste metallic copper in your mouth, slowly drowning on your own blood that had filled your lungs.

“No. No” Sam said as you writhed in his arms, glancing up bleary eyed at him. Dean pressed down firmly on the wound, and it hurt more than anything but you couldn’t bring yourself to even whine at the contact.

“Come on sweetheart.” Dean pleaded. “Not like this.”

You could see his lips moving but it sounded like he was underwater as your body began to grow numb and your vision slowly faded. You tried to blink away the spots that consumed your vision, but it was no use and your eyes ended up fluttering shut just as your ragged breaths slowed before stopping altogether until you lay morbid limp in your big brother's arms.

‘Heat of the moment-’

Sam sat up abruptly, awoken by the sudden racket that filled the room. After sitting up groggily and allowing his eyes to adjust to the light he glanced at the clock, hardly noting the time before he turned to his brother. He had been here before. He realised suddenly, but this time his older brother was not lacing his boots. Instead he was stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the space beside Sam. He felt the blankets shift around him as you tried to bury yourself into the mattress, bringing the covers over your head to try and block out some of the noise and fall back to sleep. Sam stared at you, startled. He could have sworn that just a moment ago you were-

“Rise and shine, Sammy.” Dean said, with much less enthusiasm as he had before. His little brother furrowed his brows.

“Dean…?”

“I know. Is it just me or are you getting a serious sense of deja-vu?”

He nodded in agreement.

The Winchesters shared a look. Man, something strange was happening and whatever it was, you clearly weren’t feeling the same thing they were.

The diner was exactly the same as it had been the last time the two brothers were here. You were still looking around with the same uncertainty as you were before and you even ordered the same thing as you did before and so did Dean. Tuesday’s special. Pig in a poke.

“It’s tuesday?” He said uncertainly to himself.

You stared at him blankly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world “Yeah.”

Sam eyed you strangely and you raised a brow.

“You okay?”

“Peachy.” He replied, leaning across the table. “Are you?”

Narrowing your eyes at the pair of boys you asked. “Okay. What’s going on with you two?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“You don’t…you don’t remember any of this?” Sam asked you

“Remember what?”

“This. Today. Like it’s happened before.” Dean.

“You mean like Deja Vu?” You frowned.

“No like it’s really happened before.” Sam stressed. “If it feels like we’re living yesterday all over again.”

“Deja Vu.”

“No. Forget about that. Its-

The conversation was once again cut off by the waitress who was delivering the food. And once again she sent the hot sauce toppling. But this time, Sam caught it before it could hit the ground.

You gave him a charismatic grin. “Nice reflexes.”

The rest of the day did not pass by quickly after that.

Your brothers were trying to explain the situation to you, while theorising themselves. It was safe to say that at first you were completely lost, but were halfway to believing them when it happened.

The car came from nowhere, speeding around the corner. It collided harshly with your unsuspecting body sending you skidding across the asphalt. By the time your brothers had reached you, a trail of blood trickled down your face from the wounds that were opened as your skin ran across the floor. Dean nearly choked on the sight of your pained and bloodied face as he reached you but you were dead before he had even lifted you into his arms.

And then, there it was again. That wretched song, screaming from the radio.

‘Heat of the moment-’

Sam sat up abruptly, awoken by the sudden racket that filled the room and muttered one single phrase.

“Son of a bitch.”

The rest of the day did not pass by quickly after that. In fact, it never seemed to end.

Sam was getting angry now. No. That's not really the right word to describe it. He was frustrated. Tired. Scared. Dean was angry. And growing impatient. But both of them could not bear to live another tuesday. They couldn’t bear to see you fine one second and then dying the next. They had lived through at least a hundred tuesdays, had scanned every inch of the diner, the town, the mystery spot, they had followed the people from the diner and had even tried to keep you in the motel room but no matter how hard they tried they were forced to watch you die again.

The worst part was that you were clueless. Sam and Dean had to re-explain the ordeal to you everytime they woke up to that stupid song again, leaving you back at square one. They had lived through the day so many times that it had gotten to the point where they could both predict your sentences word for word and while it freaked you out, their patience was wearing thin.

Until finally, something changed. Dean had asked the woman he kept bumping into to see her flyer. They finally had a lead. So, the next time Tuesday morning rolled around, they felt hopeful as they filed off the information to you.

“When’d you get time to do all that research?” you asked through a mouthful of food.

Dean did not have the energy to answer, so he just stood, rolling his eyes. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time here.”

That was when Sam spotted it. The sticky, pink syrup sat in the dispenser next to the half eaten pancake. He frowned, stopping suddenly. When you noticed his absence you turned and asked him what was wrong.

Sam watched the man leave through the slats in the blinds. “That guy has maple syrup for the last 100 tuesdays, now all of a sudden he’s having strawberry?

“It’s a free country, Sammy. A man can’t choose his own syrup now? What have we become?”

“Not in this diner.” Sam shook his head. “Not today.”

“Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. “ Dean told you. “Except us.”

The two brothers nearly lost their shit when they woke up again, but by the time they had suffered through the morning routine and had reached the diner they had come up with a plan.

There were no conversations during breakfast. The pair left you to ponder over your own thoughts after mentioning the idea of a time loop. Any of your questions went unanswered as they stared down the man, jumping into action when he rose, pushing the stool out with an ear splitting squeal and making his way to the parking lot.

Dean gripped the man firmly, forcing him against the fence by the scruff of his neck and silencing his protests. “We know who you are. Or should I say what?”

You watched very confused from the side.

“Oh my god-” the man begged, wide eyed. “Please don’t kill me!”

“Uh, Boys-”

“It took us a hell of a long time, but we got it.” Sam seethed.

“What?!”

“It’s your M.O that gave you away.” He continued. “Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just deserts. Your kind loves that, don’t they?”

“Yeah. Sure. Okay! Just put the stake down!” He pleaded, side eyeing the weapon that Sam pressed to his neck. Sam refused to move.

“Sammy, maybe you should-”

“No!” He yelled at you. The tone of his voice was so unexpected for Sam that you recoiled. “There’s only one creature powerful enough to do what you’re doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops- In fact, you’d pretty much have to be a god.”

“You’d have to be a trickster.” Dean spat.

“Misters…” The man pleaded shakily with tears in his eyes “My name is Ed Coleman. My wife’s name is Amelia- I’ve got two kids! For crying out loud I sell ad space!”

“Don’t lie to me! I know what you are!” Sam shouted into his face.

“We’ve killed one of your kind before.”

There was a heavy paused before the grey hair and wrinkles on the man before you morphed into the all familiar face of the trickster you and your brothers had run into not too long ago.

He smirked and your brothers’ faces dropped. “Actually, you didn’t.”

“Why are you doing this? Why her!?” Sam pressed, digging the stake into his neck.

“You’re kidding?” The trickster replied “You all tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn’t I do this? Why not make you three suffer.”

“So this is funny to you? Killing her over and over again?” Dean gritted his teeth.

“One- yes, it is fun. And two -this is so not about killing Y/N. This joke is on you two. I mean… come on. How great has it been to watch you to see her being torn apart again and again. Watching your sister die everyday. Forever.”

“You son of a bitch.”

The trickster smiled. “How long will it take you to realise you can’t save your sister, no matter what.”

“Oh yeah? We kill you, this ends now.” Sam growled.

“Woah. Okay, look. I was just playing around. You can’t take a joke, fine. You’re out of it. Tomorrow you’ll wake up and it’ll be wednesday. I swear.”

“You're lying. “

He shrugged. “If I am, you know where to find me.”

“But you better promise me, I’ll be back in time-”

Sam couldn’t contain the gasp that fell from his lips. “It’s wednesday!”

“Yeah…?” You said from across the room where you were rummaging though your bag. “Which usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that crap off, would you?” you asked him.

“No. Leave it on.” Dean interjected. He agreed with Sam. If he heard Asia one more time he was going to kill himself. “Isn’t that the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard?”

“...No. Jesus, how many Tuesdays did you guys have?”

“You don’t wanna know.” Dean sighed. “Wait..what do you remember.”

“I remember you two being pretty whacked out yesterday. And then i remember running into the trickster. S’bout it really.”

“Right. Whatever. Lets get out of here.” Sam said as he pulled on a shirt.

“What? No breakfast?” You asked, slightly upset that you were going to miss out on the diner food you had quite enjoyed yesterday.

“No breakfast.”

Sam and Dean were still inside when they heard it. The unmistakable pop of a gun being fired. You were outside loading the last of your things into Baby and-

Sam's heart sank.

“Y/N!” He cried, dropping what he was doing and racing down the stairs towards you.

The offender fled the moment the gunshot had sounded and your two brothers could see him rounding the corner, but their concern was on you, sprawled out across the floor in a pool of your own blood.

They shook you, crying out your name but you didn’t move. Your heart had stopped beating.

“No. This isn’t supposed to happen today.” Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight, only to nearly cry when he opened them again and you were still lying lifelessly in his brothers clutch. “We’re supposed to wake up.”

And then, he began to cry.

Part 2 may be coming…I’ll add it to my to do list

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