#line cook eddie

[courtingchaos]

Braised

Line Cook Eddie x Barista Reader

Summary: A long day at work leads to a long night in Eddie’s bedroom.

A/N: woof. I started this back in March? Took me this long to come back to it but I like it. Nay, love it because line cook Eddie is my boyfriend. Also, I need @newlips to know this has lived in my head since January and is the inspiration for this. It’s literally just….so so so much smut.

Warnings: Slight somnophilia (listen you had a long day and he’s got a great mouth), sex, drug use (not for the somno)

18+ NSFW No Minors

“Eddie, I’m really tired.” You giggle when his mouth finds the back of your neck.

“Yeah but I think I found some more syrup back here. Mhm, yep another sweet spot.” He rakes his hands into your hair to pull it up gently so he can get at more skin. It tickles, makes you scrunch your nose at the feel of his lips pecking around.

“Seriously Ed, I’m not gonna be much fun tonight.” It’s not that you didn’t want to fuck around, it was that it had been a Sunday From Hell. You’d shown up to his apartment a sticky mess, a new bleach stain on your favorite work jeans. He’d done nothing but smile and take your bag and usher you off to his bathroom, tossing in one of his big bath towels behind you and promising to have dinner ready when you were done.

Since then, he’d somehow convinced you to sit on his bed with him when you’d gotten out.

You gotta plug your phone in why don’t you sit down I’m sure your feet are killing you let me rub them for you oh why don’t you let me get that knot out of your back no seriously just lay down I’ll give you a little massage no I’m not getting fresh calm down.

You’d gotten comfortable, lightly dozing in the middle of his bed while he made sure the knot in your back never showed up again.

“Feel better?”

You nod and sigh dreamily. He’s shifted up from the edge of the bed to straddling your hips, bent over your back to whisper in your ear. “I can make you feel even better if you want.” He dances his fingers down to run along the edge of the towel.

“Eddie…”

“What if you just lay there huh? Let me take care of you.” He says quietly.

You were tired. You were sore. However the shower had worked a minor miracle and the growing bulge pushed against your ass was changing your mind by the minute. You pretend to contemplate, rolling your head back and forth on the back of your hand that’s propped up under your chin.

“And you’re making me dinner?”

“And I’m making us dinner.”

You shrug lightly. “Can’t complain if I fall asleep.”

“Scouts honor. I’ll leave you alone if you fall asleep.”

“Well I didn’t say that.” You mumble in your skin. His weight shifts forward, planting his hands next to your head. He hovers over you and chuckles. “Are you being a freak?”

“…Maybe. What constitutes a freak?”

“Talkin’ about me fucking you while your asleep’ll do it.”

The towel is the first thing to go, Eddie’s fingers sliding between the terrycloth and your shower warmed skin. It’s pulled free and flung towards the bathroom door, the chill air hitting your clammy skin for only a moment before his big frame is back on you, knees around your hips and hands planting beside your elbows. Your cheek upturned, he leans down to give you a kiss.

“You’re real sweet on me, huh?” You mumble. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the flash of a smile before he dives back down to kiss a trail from your face to your shoulder all the while slowly grinding his hips into you.

“You could say that.” He spends a while on light touches, pulling quite sighs out of you while you relax further into the comforter. You think you might actually be falling asleep when you realize he’s stopped touching you. He gets off the bed for a minute to rearrange and grab his other pillow. He kneels beside you again and taps your hip. When you don’t make a move he grabs you, fingers digging in enough to make you laugh.

“Don’t tickle me!”

“Then move!” The smile is evident in his voice even though you can’t see his face. He jostles you again and you turn your hip up off the bed.

“No, lift your hips up, like-forget it.” He leaves the pillow and yanks you up by the waist, making you tuck your knees up under you to stay up right. He makes a pleased sound and smooths his palm over the curve of your ass.

“You just gonna stare all night?”

“I could.” He says quietly. His finger traces light lines up the back of your thigh and you can feel the heat slowly creeping its way across your hips. It reaches out towards the lingering feeling of his palms pulling you up, where his fingertips had dug in. You were getting used to him moving you around however he wanted, liked it a lot even, just not sure how to ask for it yet. He pulls you out of your thoughts when he tucks the folded over pillow under you and gently pushes you back down.

“Relax.” He coos at you from above. His palm is warm against your ankle where he pulls a little to help you straighten your leg out. Tugs your other leg straight and then settles himself between your knees.

“Eddie-“ Turning your head over your shoulder is a deep stretch, and with your ass in the air slightly you can barely make out his hand hovering near his mouth and his dimples. He tilts his head over so you can actually see him.

“Hey that doesn’t look comfortable or relaxing.” He swats at one cheek, just fingertips, admonishing you. Tucking your chin back to the pillow you hide your smile in the silk. “You trust me, right?” He’s asking you, sincerity laced in his quiet words. You nod your head yes but he makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Tell me?”

“Yeah.” A little breathless, only because he keeps stealing it from you with these kinds of acts. “Of course.” You do. It’s been a few months of actual dating and every time he’s asked it’s been yes (vehemently yes) and still he asks. It’s not like he’s moved on to suspending you from the ceiling, but it makes you a little morose for all the times other people didn’t check in, didn’t ask after simple things.

“Hey.” He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. He’s gotten so good at reading you, can see when you immediately start to get lost in that maze of thought again. “I can leave you alone.”

“Don’t…don’t leave. I am having fun.” You shift just a little so he can see the side of your face, hair pushed back so he can see your eye glinting in the lamp light. “I mean it.” His dimples match your grin and when his weight shifts up you can feel the smile pressed against your shoulder where he places a kiss. He litters your back with them, going down your arms till he can’t reach them tucked under your cheek. He lays them up your neck until he can feel the tension bleeding away. Plants a big obnoxious one on your cheek, one that gets you to scrunch up your nose again. He runs his hands in between the spaces he misses, fingernails leaving little pink lines down your back, lines that fade after a second. He’s trying to get you back in that relaxed state you were in. Post shower and dewy and looking like a water nymph lounging on his bed.

He’s at your hip, hovering over the black lines of the tattoo there. Breathe hot where it’s trapped between your skin and his face. He runs his hands down the outside of your thighs and back up. Steadies himself while he stretches out between your legs. He shifts around to lean on his elbows, watches the goosebumps fan out and over your skin. You’re good and sunk into the bed so he leans forward and slowly bites down on your left cheek.

Your leg kicks up next to him. “Eddie!” A high pitched squeal of his name makes him laugh around the mouthful of you. He keeps an eye on your face and rests his wrist on the pillow, knuckle barely grazing your pussy. Your hips shift slightly under his mouth and he lets go, admiring the imprints of his teeth before running his tongue over it. Inches his hand up on the pillow enough to slide his finger between between your lips, wasting no time in finding your clit. Circles it slow in tight circles, your sigh loud in his quiet room when he finally touches you how you’ve been wanting him to. He likes watching you like this, soft and relaxed. Knows he’s doing his job at keeping you out of that thought trap when your hips chase his touch. He rests his head momentarily on your ass, the quiet chuckle from you cut off when he slides his finger up and brushes over your entrance. You clench against him gently prodding, canting your hips back to chase his hand when he goes still.

“Hold on.” You hear the wet sound of his mouth and then feel the momentary cool touch of his spit slick finger going in slow until he hits his knuckle. The moan caught in your chest is dislodged when he flutters the fingers of his other hand over your sensitive bud and crooks his finger deep inside you.

“Is that good?”

A slight nod of your head and then a sharp gasp when he spreads you open with two fingers and spits, fingers working to spread it around. “You like it when I make a mess of you?” Another nod, he can see where you’re fisting the pillow under your head, but that’s not what he wants. “Hey.” Firm but gentle, he gets your attention.

“Fuck, yes Eddie please…” You run out of words when he slips another finger in, both now rubbing up against that soft spot inside. He’s taking his time, both hands working at a torturous pace and making you squirm around the bed.

“Told you I’d take care of you.”

“I never doubted you.” You gasp into your hand. He said he’d wanted you to relax but this is having the opposite effect. Between him nibbling on the cuff of your ass and taking his sweet time fingering you, it’s no wonder you’re pulling taut around him. You kick your leg up and try to squeeze at him, trying to keep him in place even though you couldn’t pay him to move.

Eddie speaks lowly. Hushed tones accentuated by the sound of you, wet made wetter from him sneaking his tongue in with his fingers.

“Been waiting all day for this.” His nose brushes along your folds when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. Goosebumps explode over the backs of your thighs when his now free hand lays over your lower back to pin you to the pillow.

“Taste so sweet for me.” He licks a wide tongue from your aching clit to your entrance, tip of his tongue dipping in to taste.

“Eddie I swear…”

“What?” He licks his thumb, pausing for second before gliding it over the tight ring of your ass. A gasp and your legs tightening around him make him look up at you. Your hands gripping the pillow, mouth hung open on a gasp tell him everything.

“You like that?” Another long lick over your center pulls a groan out of you and Eddie is done asking questions. He makes a mess out of you, wet sounds drowned out by your whining and moaning. You babble about his mouth and how good it feels and Eddie preens, doubles down and presses just a little bit more with his thumb. He flicks his tongue over your clit and when you squeeze him between your thighs he speeds up.

He’s been achingly hard since he started this little venture, grinding his hips into the bed with every one of your moans and as much as he enjoys taking you apart like this, he can barely wait to sink into you.

You chant his name when he sucks your clit and your hands look for purchase in the pillow and the sheets. The tremble in your legs barely starts before your pulled tight all around him, low groan from deep in your chest punched out by the rapid flick of his tongue. You’re just off the edge, orgasm rolling through while you huff into the pillow trying to catch your breath when Eddie hauls up. Distantly you hear his clothes hit the floor and he’s between your legs again, cock laying heavy on your ass.

“I take it back.”

“Take what back?” You’re floating in clouds made out of his bed.

“I’ve been waiting all day for this.” He strains out while pulling his hips back and slowly grazing lower and lower till the head of his cock catches and he pushes in. You both groan in unison and he takes his time fully filling you.

“Fuck baby, so fuckin’ wet for me.”

You can’t do much but lay there in awe, boneless and relaxed and letting Eddie do whatever it was he wanted.

“Feel so good for me.” He drags his hips back slow and pushes back in slow and keeps talking low and slow and he’s got you in a trance. Nodding along and agreeing, keening and whining when he pushes right into that perfect spot.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna cum again.”

“What, this?” He gives a little more on that thrust. “Not yet you aren’t.” He grabs your ass, one hand on either side to use as leverage in this game of torture he’s playing. He lets a line of spit fall from his lips between you two and resumes his previous activity of sliding his thumb over your ass.

“You are a dirty girl.” He teases when you push your hips back into him. “Want me to fuck your ass?” He’s so full of himself, with every right to be. You nod under him, a silent ‘oh’ on your lips.

“Of course you, I’d take such good care of you.” Eddie babbles at the back of your head to try to distract himself. Every ridge and bump slides along his length and sends him closer to the edge and every lurch forward he pauses, not wanting this to be over.

It’s only when he makes you arch your back and he drives down into you that he starts to falter, your second orgasm taking you both by surprise.

“Oh shit, Eddieeddieddie!” You chant his name and push your hips back to keep him inside and Eddie thinks he might just fucking die tonight.

You’re out, hands falling limply beside your head and mouth hanging open. He’s not sure he’s ever seen you so blissed out.

“Oh my god.” Even with you floating off, your pussy grips him, fluttering around his cock in the aftermath of your own orgasm. He’d been playing a game with himself, just as much as with you but he’s nearing the end of his own limits. A thin line of sweat trickles down his back and his nerves are on fire. He holds you open so he can watch where he sinks into you but there’s a faltering in his rhythm. He curses and grips the globes of your ass, nails digging half moons into your skin.

You feel good, you always feel so good and he’s lost his train of thought. Stuck on the wet sucking of your pussy and the soft fat under his hands. He reached his goal in getting you relaxed, so much so that you’ve gone limp under him, little grunts of pleasure when he hits particularly deep. He can let go but he doesn’t want to, this impromptu edging he’s been after slowly killing him and making his eyes roll.

“So fucking good for me, yeah?”

You barely nod, too busy drooling into the pillow to give him a real answer.

“God I love the way-oh fuck honey, do that again!” You flex around his cock and Eddie’s hips stutter before he decides ‘fuck it’. He punches his hips fast and holds you down to keep you in place. Your grunts turn into moans and you scratch at the pulled up bedding, looking for something to hold on to. He fucks you right until it’s almost a mistake, pulls out and paints your back in hot lines, a pained groan vibrating in his chest while he pumps his twitching cock.

He can feel you trembling under him while he tries to catch his breath. One hand holding his softening cock while the other rubs up your leg and over your side.

“That was fucking beautiful baby.”

A slight chuckle from you and he leans over you to nose at the side of your face. “You okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“You don’t have a single worry in that pretty little head, do you?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Good.” He peppers a few kisses against your cheek and you smile lazily.

“I’m gonna go get a towel okay?”

You raise a weak thumbs up and he gives your ass a slap on the way off the bed.

In the time it takes him to find a towel and come back into the bedroom, you’re out fully this time. He lets his eyes wander over your body, moulded into his bed. The slow rise and fall of your back as you slip deeper into sleep and he shakes himself out of his poetic waxing to clean you up before it becomes a problem.

You only stir a little when the cloth hits your skin but Eddie is done quickly, ditching it in favor of tracing light shapes over your back. He smirks at the short red marks along your back where he’d hung on for dear life and it’s only the timer on the stove that’s able to pull him out of his memories, lest he burn the apartment complex down.

“Hey.”

You stir, pulled gently out of your nap. Eddie is crouched beside the bed with his chin hooked on the mattress, watching you blink blearily at him. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Did I fall asleep?” You ask, stretching under the comforter that he must have pulled up over you.

“Like, immediately. Got that NyQuil dick, what can I say?” His laugh shakes the bed when you smack his shoulder lightly.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Much easier to get you under the covers.” He gives you a quick kiss before standing up and holding out your pajamas to you. “You can eat dinner naked if you want, but there’s sauce involved.” He tilts head though and hums. “On second thought don’t, I can help you clean that up.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you snatch your clothes out of his hand. Sliding out of bed you march into the bathroom while he whistles after you.

“Jesus christ this is so good.” You say around a mouthful of food. Eddie grins into his fork, cheeks hot with his oncoming blush.

“Yeah?”

You shoot him a look daring him to pick apart his meal. “I’ve never had a turnip before. This is heavenly.”

“Never?”

“No! Especially not whipped!”

He watches you shove a forkful of charred broccolini into your mouth and pretend cry. “I really thought the ribs were gonna win but it’s this fucking broccoli.”

“Broccolini.” He corrects, gently. You roll your eyes and mutter sorry while you dig around your plate.

While earlier had be a spectacular beginning of the night, this is what he looks forward to the most, when he gets to stretch his wings and try new things with dinner for the two of you. Your face always lights up and is swiftly followed by a low growl of ‘oh my fucking god’ when you get first taste. You have yet to give him any critique outside of asking why he was buying you treats instead of making them.

“Eddie, I’m not kidding, this is the best thing you’ve made thus far.” You run your finger around the edge of your plate, gathering up the left over wine sauce. He watches your tongue lap it up off your finger and then watches your tongue glide along the edge of your wine glass, collecting the few remaining drops, momentarily wishing he was a piece of drink ware. “So, question.” You set your glass down pointedly.

“Answer?”

“When are you gonna let me take care of you?” You give him warm look, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“You can totally make dinner whenever-“

“No, that’s not all I mean.” You slide off the barstool and round the corner of the counter to where he’s sitting. You lean your whole body into him, hands toying with the loose curl from his clipped back hair. “You always take care of me. If it isn’t dinner it’s in there,” you gesture over your shoulder to his bedroom with your thumb, “or it’s paying for my nails, or taking me on dates. When do I get to do that for you?”

Eddie sighs and looks down at his plate. He doesn’t want an argument to spool out of this. You’ve touched on it before and every time gotten a little defensive about him always spending his money.

“I get joy out of your joy.”

“Okay, and I’d get joy from taking you out once in a while.”

He can see the resolve in your look, the slight pinch of your eyebrows and it’s been too good of a night. “Alright. Later,” he gives you a look, “we’ll talk about you paying for my nails okay?” He can’t get through without laughing and you push him, grinning. He stands and wraps you up tight in a hug, lips buried in your hair next to your ear. “Seriously, I promise. I’ll think of something.”

“Now though, I want to go out on that balcony and smoke that stupid little pink joint you rolled yesterday.” He points toward the door and you huff into his neck.

“It’s not stupid! The papers had little cherry blossoms on them!”

On the balcony Eddie sits in one of the folding chairs while you drag a pillow out with you to sit between his knees. You both sit in silence, passing the joint back and forth and scrolling through your phones. You hold it up for him when you find a funny video and he runs his fingers through your hair between passes. He stops paying attention to whatever he’s reading when you lay your head against his thigh and place a little kiss on the inside of his knee. You’re engrossed in some article, mindlessly nuzzling into Eddie’s leg and he has to take a deep, shuddering breath.

It’s balmy out, a quick breeze pushing through every so often. He’s full of good food and good wine and good weed, the smell of dinner and your perfume filling the air. Your hair is soft under his hand, a small hum from you when he scratches his nails against your scalp. Eddie has to stop himself, has to bite his tongue from blurting it out. It’s only been two months of on paper dating but he knows it in his gut, deep in his bones.

It’s love in the way you loosely wrap your arm around his calf. Love in the way he gets excited to go to the grocery store with you. Love in the way you sigh under him almost every night of the week.

“You okay?” You rest your chin on his thigh, looking up at him. “You got kind of quiet.”

“I-“ he looks anywhere but your eyes, wide and shining in the light filtering up from the parking lot. “I really like you.”

Your smile makes his insides melt. “I really like you too Eddie.”

He feels like a coward, like is leagues away from how he feels but it’s what he’s sticking to. He doesn’t want to send you fleeing out the front door, not when it’s been a basically perfect night. “I really like spending time with you…like this.” He circles his finger around and you laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh I’m sure you do.” You turn around to face him, kneeling on the pillow and running your hands up under his shirt. Your fingers tickle on their way up to rest on his sides. He leans forward to give you a kiss before you lay your cheek against his sternum. He knows there’s no way you can’t hear his heart kicking up, can feel your hands tighten on him and your sigh through the thin cotton.

There’s a rumble of an old Chevy and Eddie watches Jeff pull through the front gate. He’s only got a few more minutes with you like this before his roommate comes in, but it’ll be enough. Hand cradled against your neck, holding you to him he thinks about all the love just under your cheek and hopes maybe you’ll feel it, even if he can’t say it yet.

(Sacrifice for the read more)

[hellfirexwhore]

Forget What You've Heard E.M.

Line cook!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader

Sorry it took so long between posts! I've been working all day every day so it's busy over here. I hope you enjoy! 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied / posted as original work on any platform.

Your favorite co-worker's flirty nature is your favorite part of the workday, but is it genuine? Someone is feeding you lies just as your patrons are being fed mozzarella sticks and Eddie is determined to convince you he's not just playing games with your heart.

Misunderstanding, hurt/comfort, fluff, cursing, an asshole named Dylan (We all know one), use of Y/N

Wordcount 4.7k

You smile to yourself as you count up the tips you've made so far. Bartending has done wonders for your wallet, and it's totally worth it if you can look over the long hours on your feet, creeps trying to get into your pants, and going home smelling like sour mix and sweat. You just moved to Hawkins 6 months ago and since living on your own is expensive, you serve beers and shake cocktails at the karaoke bar downtown to make a living. It's easy work and you're good at it, but there's just one issue; your favorite co-worker is a huge distraction. Eddie is the cutest damn line cook you've ever seen with his curly hair always tied into a low bun and his smile that you're sure could cure a number of diseases, but those things don't make it easy to do your job efficiently. It's nearly impossible to grab a platter of nachos from the window without him throwing out a wink and calling you sweetheart, telling you you're doing a good job, or even sliding a basket of fries to you with a finger to his lips as a way of saying "Don't tell on me, honey." 

Tonight is no different. Eddie has been a total menace all night, flashing you that flirty smile, keeping you from your work with his corny pick-up lines that he insists will get him a date with you one day, making conversation, and giving you extra sides of ranch without making you ring them in first like the kitchen manager does. The second you walked into the back to set your bag down after arriving, he told you your hair looked absolutely ravishing even though it's just thrown into a clip like always, making you blush like crazy. It took nearly 20 minutes to get the scarlet red tint to leave your cheeks, and though you tried your hardest to hide it, Eddie sure as hell noticed, leaving a smile on his face throughout the busy evening.

"Hey sweetheart, I've got those wings for the bar top ready for you." You hear from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You smile to yourself at the nickname and put the glass you've just finished washing upside down on the drying mat. 

You turn around to an always grinning Eddie leaning his elbows on the stainless steel of the mini counter under the window to the back of house and holding the ticket in between his index and middle digits. You take the slip of paper out of his hand slowly, letting your fingers touch for a moment before stabbing it through the small metal spike to your right. Every once in a while, you like to indulge in his flirtatiousness, though it makes you nervous. Eddie's fun, he's nice, and dishing back what he gives to you every day isn't hurting anyone. "Thank you, Eddie."

"Any time, sugar." He replies, winking and turning to grab a new ticket and drop an order of potato skins in the fryer. You shake your head, smiling from ear to ear, turning to serve the hot plate to one of your regulars. 

The rest of the shift goes great. Your tips are higher than you had planned, nobody had to be thrown out for fighting, and you got to hear a wonderful rendition of "My Heart Will Go On" sang by a very intoxicated older gentleman during the karaoke session. As you clean up the bar for the night, as always, you can't stop thinking about Eddie. You think tonight might actually be the night you ask him to hang out with you outside of work, though he's invited you to go get some late night pizza before, playfully pouting when you have to decline, telling him that you're exhausted and have to go back to the bar to open the next day. You've wanted to say yes, but Eddie makes you nervous. You're feeling bold tonight though, and you're optimistic. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is in the kitchen cleaning the fryers, taking out the trash, and scrubbing the floors absentmindedly, almost like he's in auto-pilot because he can't get you out of his head. He wants so badly to ask you out, but he's tried that and you don't seem interested. He realizes you probably just flirt with him for fun, a harmless workplace friendship with some winks and pet names sprinkled in, but over the past four months, he's developed a serious crush on you. 

There's just something about you that makes you so different from everyone he's ever dated or been interested in. He doesn't feel like he has to change who he is for you. There's nothing better for Eddie's ego than how easy it is to make you smile, and goddammit what a beautiful smile it is. Every time you look at him through your lashes, blushing at something stupid he's said, Eddie feels like he could lift the entire building up with one hand and not even break a sweat. He fears he's in too deep at this point, the innocent flirting leading to him finding himself thinking about you even once he's gone home for the night. 

"Hey Eddie boy, I think you missed a spot." Eddie rolls his eyes at the irritating voice coming at him from his left. Dylan is one of the most insufferable people he's ever met and of course, he has the honor of working beside him at least 3 nights out of the week. 

Eddie doesn't turn his attention to Dylan, just continues wiping down the steel counter top. "Bite me, jackass." 

"Wow, someone's sassy today, huh? What, you didn't get enough attention from your little bartender tonight?" He smarmily replies, a disgustingly annoying grin on his face. Dylan, to Eddie's dismay, has picked up on the little "situation" between you two, making a joke of it every chance he can in an attempt to piss him off. 

Eddie laughs humorlessly, throwing his rag down and turning to the bane of his existence, crossing his arms over his chest. "Dude shut the fuck up."

"Hey look man, I get it! I'm just saying it's embarrassing watching you stare at her like a fucking creep all day. She does look pretty smokin' in those jeans though, so I don't blame you. Hey maybe I'll ask her out tonight, see if I can get some tail. Think she'll give up the goods?" He's smirking while Eddie's blood is raising in temperature. He can practically feel smoke coming out of his ears hearing this sorry excuse for a man speaking about you like you're just a piece of ass and not the sweet, funny, beautiful person you are. 

"I swear to God, I'll bust your teeth in." Eddie seethes, trying to keep his cool, at least while you're in the building. You're blissfully unaware of their hatred for one another and the last thing he needs is for you to see him throwing his fist into Dylan's face for talking about you. That wouldn't be very "innocent flirtationship" of him. 

"Guys! Come on, finish cleaning and knock it off. I don't have the energy for your cat fights tonight." The kitchen manager huffs, stepping between the two of them with a severely annoyed look on his face. Wordlessly, Eddie takes one more look at Dylan, picks his rag back up, and continues his task of degreasing all of the surfaces. He wants to get it over with and be able to clock in time to catch you before you leave and walk you to your car.

Dylan, the vindictive man he is, takes the opportunity to make his way through the swinging kitchen door and into the main bar area while Eddie isn't paying attention. You look up, expecting to find Eddie standing there, but confused when it's the guy you barely speak to heading in your direction.

"Hey Y/N, you do good tonight?" He asks, leaning against the bar. You smile politely, still wrist deep in soapy water from washing the bar glasses and beer mugs. 

"Yeah, better than I expected actually. Did you need something?" You ask, not rudely, but assuming he came for something specific seeing as he's never made small talk with you before.

Dylan takes a breath and rests his elbows on the hard wood of the bar top, shaking his head like he's trying to think of how to tell you what he sauntered up to you for. You begin to dry your hands, getting a little nervous thinking that maybe the manager had sent him up here to tell you something you've done wrong. You're still relatively new and you've never gotten in trouble here before, but you can't think of anything else he would need to say to you. "Look, I know you and Munson are friends, and I see the way you look at him. You like him, and before you deny it, just listen to me." 

Your heart starts to race. Did he tell Eddie? Did Eddie say something to him? How are you going to face him when apparently other people are picking up on this? Are you this obvious? You can't take it anymore so you nod, waiting for more information as you toy with your hands. 

"You seem sweet, okay and I don't want to see someone like you hurt by someone like him. Eddie and I are cool, but this is what he does. he flirts with the new ones, takes them home, and never speaks to them again. When another newbie comes in, he starts it all over again. I just thought you should know since I'm sure you're a genuinely nice person and I'm certain Eddie is taking advantage of that." Your heart drops at his words. You feared you were being played with, but you didn't want to believe it. You fell for Eddie's charms, and now it's time to face the harsh reality that you had completely misunderstood this whole situation and made yourself look like an idiot in front of everyone. 

"Um, wow. Well thanks for telling me, I appreciate it. I'm gonna finish up here and head out. Have a good rest of your night." You say, rushing through so you don't tear up mid-sentence. Dylan nods, not saying another word but offering a sympathetic smile before turning on his heel and going back through the door he came. You pull the plug to the dish sink, gather your signed receipts to shove into the drawer, and give the glazed wood one last wipe down. You hear Eddie say your name through the window but you act like you can't hear him. 

This whole thing could have been avoided if you wouldn't have fallen for the good looks and quirks of the fuzzy-headed, wild-eyed line cook. You never should have caught feelings in the workplace; that's like rule number 001 in the service industry. Never, under any circumstances, canoodle with your co-workers. You thought maybe this was an exception but now here you are, proven wrong. 

Heading through the swinging door to the kitchen, you avoid eye contact with everyone, especially Eddie, as you walk straight to the back to gather your things. You feel humiliated and giving Eddie the satisfaction of seeing you upset is out of the question so the sooner you can get out of the building, the better. You give quiet goodbyes to the managers and make a quick escape, or you at least try to before a hand reaches out to hold your forearm. 

"Hey, wait for me. I'll walk you to your car." Eddie says softly, giving you a soft smile. You can't bear to look him in the eyes, so you gently pull away, shaking your head. 

"It's fine Eddie, thanks though." You reply, turning to finally leave. Eddie watches as you throw your bag strap onto your shoulder and hurriedly make your way to the exit. Hurt washes over him and he's more confused than when he learned what a tampon is in middle school. He furrows his brow and slumps his shoulders, going back to his final task before he can leave for the night. He doubts you're still going to be in the parking lot by the time he can get out there, but his heart is racing like he might have a shot at catching you before you leave. 

Did he say something? Did his flirting finally make you uncomfortable tonight? He racks his brain trying to come up with some sort of reason why you would be upset with him. Normally, he would suggest that maybe you're just tired but even when you're on the verge of falling asleep where you stand, you can still manage to give him a sleepy smile and a breathy laugh at another one of his terrible jokes. Maybe he took it too far. Maybe he weirded you out or gave you the wrong idea. It wouldn't be the first time he's scared someone off.

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

You continue to go to work as normal, doing your best to not entertain anything Eddie had to say. The more distance you can create between the two of you, the less likely you'll get hurt. The time for stepping away from him to protect your feelings ended long ago but now it's time to do some damage control before you get worse. You get attached to people, and unfortunately that includes the bad people too. 

You thought long and hard about whether or not you actually believed Dylan. I mean it's his first time actually talking to you and he breaks the news to you that Eddie just wanted to get into your pants? Why would he care? After going back and forth with yourself over it for your entire day off, you don't know what to think but what you do know is that if they really are friends and if Dylan actually does care, then the safe bet is to just stay away. If he's telling the truth and you ignore that to continue growing your feelings for Eddie, you're in for a world of hurt and that's just not something you can deal with right now. 

You're not mean to Eddie when you work now; you just treat him like everyone else. You say "please" and "thank you", you ring in your extra sauces when you need them, you greet him just like you greet every other cook, and you don't flirt or bat your lashes at him anymore. Eventually, he is going to ask why but until he does, you can't bring yourself to ask him about it. It's humiliating and if he does have bad intentions, he's not going to be honest about it anyway so what's the point in starting that conversation? 

Eddie is trying everything. These past few days have been hell for him and he's grasping at straws. He offers to make you fries, you tell him, "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." He tries to ask you about your day, you apologize and say you're busy. He tries to catch you before you leave at night, but you practically sprint for the door the second you're finished with your side work. 

He watches through the window as you smile at your last patron of the night, desperately wishing that smile was for him. You haven't paid him any mind in 3 days and it's driving him crazy. It might be a little better if he actually knew what he did, but he's completely clueless. The awkward interactions are eating away at Eddie, and he knows if he doesn't say something soon, he'll explode. He starts his cleaning and breaking down the line as quickly as possible in an attempt to finish before you do so you don't run away from him again like you have been. If he doesn't get this straightened out, he doesn't know what he'll do. 

Your last tab is cashed out and you begin your cleaning, causing Eddie to pick up his pace. He knows it'll take you 20 minutes max now that you and him aren't chatting throughout to slow you down. As long as nobody gets in his way, he's determined to finally be able to talk to you tonight. Not playful banter, no pick up lines, just a real conversation. The sooner he gets back into your good graces, the better. 

"Trouble in paradise?" Eddie turns to see Dylan smirking with his arms across his chest. So much for nobody getting in his way. 

Eddie laughs humorlessly and goes back to his work. "Fuck off, dude." 

"Look man I'm just saying it seems like there's a little riff between the lovebirds lately. I wonder what happened, hm?" Dylan replies, his tone condescending as ever, doing his best to get a rise out of Eddie. To his dismay, it's working. 

"You don't know shit." Eddie mumbles, wringing out a sanitizer rag, his fingers already becoming little prunes extended from his hands from the extensive cleaning. 

"I don't know about that one, Ed. We had a really riveting conversation, seriously it was interesting, and I'm sure I know a little more than you think." This stops Eddie in his tracks. He breathes hard through his nose and turns on his heel, grabbing Dylan by his shirt and shoving him against the wall. 

"What the fuck did you say to her? Huh? Are you the reason she won't fucking talk to me? What the hell is wrong with you, you jealous son of a bitch?!" Eddie shouts. The manager on duty is already trying to break the two of them up and you hear the commotion from the front, peering your head into the window to see what the hell is going on. 

"Ooh Munson is mad! I just told her exactly what you're up to, that's all." Dylan says, calm as ever, a disgusting smile on his face. "Punching me won't undo it, so go ahead." 

"Enough! I swear to god, I will kick you both out." Eddie reluctantly loosens his grip on the boy's clothing, only pulling away completely when he's certain the risk of getting fired isn't worth hitting Dylan, even though the want to is overwhelming. 

 Eddie looks to you, his heart breaking at the disappointed look on your face. He decides this ends now. He has no idea what filth and lies have been planted in your head, but he needs to fix it and fast. He gives one last scowl to the man he was just threatening, and backs up, walking out of the kitchen door. 

He approaches the bar and you freeze. You don't know what you're supposed to say or do, so you do and say nothing. He has a soft look on his face, one very different than the one he was wearing in the kitchen just a minute prior. It's almost as if his rock hard persona turns to cotton candy when he's in your presence, and if you ask Eddie, that's exactly how that works. 

"Look, I know you don't want to talk to me and I'm still not entirely sure why, but please wait for me. Please talk to me, let me figure out what the hell happened, and let me fix it." He pleads. You think it over quickly, trying to figure out of this is something you even want to get into right now. You question his motives, still confused as ever. Helpless, you nod and see the relief wash over his entire body, giving you the same feeling as when you're in the middle of a horrific thunderstorm, and in an instant, the sun comes out of the dark clouds. Whether this conversation leaves you feeling like a sunny summer day or it leads to another crack of thunder, you're unsure but you have half an hour before you find out. 

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

You sit there at the bar having finished your closing work, waiting for Eddie to finish his. Against your better judgement, you're happy to talk to him again but nothing can stop the knot in your stomach from growing tighter. All you wanted to do today was make some money, go home, cook dinner, take a bath, and watch a movie in bed but now, you're sitting here, anxiety building up in your body like a tower of mix-matched Lego pieces. 

You're taken out of your thoughts when Eddie exits the kitchen and walks toward you, not looking any less nervous than he did earlier in the evening. "Hey, sorry I took so long." 

"It's okay." You say quietly, standing up from the bar stool and pulling the strap of your backpack up onto your shoulder. "Do you want to talk outside?" 

Eddie nods, giving you a tight smile. He leads you out of the front door and around to the side of the building to the employee parking lot, not saying a word just yet. the silence is broken by the flick of your lighter, illuminating the tip of a cigarette freshly placed in your mouth, inhaling the smoke and feeling the tiniest amount of tension wash away. 

You lean against your car waiting for him to speak, still not really sure what you're supposed to say. He's the one that needed to defend himself, he's the one who wanted this conversation to happen. 

"Look, I don't know what Dylan told you but I can assure you it was a lie." He starts. He's fidgeting with his fingers, avoiding eye contact. He's lost every ounce of confidence he once had when he's on the other side of the wall passing you a basket of chicken tenders. 

"If you don't know what he said, then how would you know that?" You reply, taking another drag of your cigarette. You're hoping he's being genuine and not just defensive right off the bat, but if someone is lying about you, you'd feel defensive too. Everything is still fuzzy and figuring out this mess is like putting the pieces of a clear puzzle together.

"Because he fucking hates me. He does shit just to piss me off." Eddie shakes his head, pulling his own pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting one between his lush lips. 

"Why would he hate you, Eddie? What did you do?" You don't mean to point blame at him but he had to have done something to make someone hate him to the point of making up a lie to make you ignore him for days.

"When I first started, he thought I was flirting with this girl he had a thing for, and she got a crush on me. She didn't want to hang out with him anymore and he thought I just swooped in and stole her. I didn't even like her like that but since then, he's made it his job to make my life a living hell when he's here. That includes fucking this-" Eddie gestures his hand between the both of you, "-up for me." 

"He told me you're fucking with me." You say, suddenly fixing your eyes on your sneakers. You almost shudder thinking back at the way your heart dropped to your stomach when Dylan first spoke to you. "Said you flirt with the new ones to get into their pants and then move on to the next one." 

Eddie's eyes widen, looking like he's a child being told Santa isn't real. The genuine look of shock is very convincing, and you're close to dropping every allegation from that expression alone. "Jesus Christ. Y/N, I promise that's not what's going on here." 

"How can I know that for sure? I felt like an idiot after he told me that. I was humiliated thinking I fell for some sleazy game you were playing." You're trying not to tear up. You can feel the thickness in your throat as you speak, hoping Eddie doesn't pick up on it. Six months of growing feelings for someone isn't something to fuck around about, and you might have taken this more seriously than it was intended, but when you're in that close of proximity with someone for that long, itching for the other to make a move, it's hard to not be heartbroken when something happens to it. 

"Sweetheart, I flirt with you because I like you. At first, it was just fun and I thought you were cute, but now I have a big, fat, stupid crush on you and I think about you all the time. I don't ask you to hang out with me after work so I can take you to my van and get your clothes off. I ask you to hang out with me because I like the way you make me feel." Eddie responds, making eye contact with you finally, searching your eyes for any trace of doubt. He wants you to know how serious he is. This isn't just a fling for him, much like it never was for you. You had a feeling this could turn into something special, though it goes against everything people tell you about workplace relationships. 

"And what would that feeling be?" You inquire, not breaking the contact between his chocolate pools and your own, finding a boldness in yourself that you didn't know existed. 

"You make me feel like I'm the coolest guy in the world. You laugh at my stupid jokes, you compliment me, you're interested in what I have to say.." He trails off with a fond smile on his face. There's a softness about him that balances out the roughness of his edges, endearing you even further. He reaches out to grab your soft hand with his rough one. "I really fucking like you." 

"I really like you too. I was going to ask you out the night Dylan dropped a bomb on me." You admit, rubbing your thumb over the skin of his hand. 

"That motherfucker." Eddie shakes his head, getting angry all over again at the fact that he finally had his chance and it got ruined for him in an instant. "I'm going to kick his ass." 

You pull your hand out of his and smack him lightly on the chest. "No, you can't get fired! Who will I talk to all day?"

"You've been doing just fine not talking to anyone." Eddie jokes, raising his eyebrows and bringing his cigarette to his lips, inhaling the smoke that seems to make this whole thing easier. After having a sick stomach for hours, he skipped his smoke breaks, partially leading to his angry outburst.

"Yeah and it was miserable! Do you know how much I hated having to go through my shift without hearing you call me sweetheart?" You laugh, a sound Eddie missed, even for just three days. 

He smiles down at you, dazzling as always. You missing him as much as he missed you is actively washing away his worries one by one like a salty body of water washing away a structurally questionable sandcastle. "I won't deprive you anymore." 

"I appreciate that." You grin, taking his hand back into yours. 

"Does that mean you believe me? You can ask anyone, I'm serious. I talk about you all the time. The guys make fun of me for my "heart eyes" the entire time you're here. Ask Adam, Levi, Grant, Brandon-" 

"Okay, okay." You cut off his adorable rambling. "Yes, I believe you."

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. You can see his shoulders relax, his jaw loosen, and his posture seems straighter. "Good because I mean it. I'm sorry this was such a mess for you. Hopefully I can make up for it?"

"And how do you plan to do that, Munson?" You tease, giving him the flirty look he had been wishing to see from you again. He can't take his eyes off of the way you look at him through your thick lashes. 

He moves closer to you subtly, moving slowly so he can relish in the moment. "Can I start with that date?" 

"You sure can." You say just above a whisper. You're lost in his eyes once again, but this time, it's not just playful. There's a brand new feeling getting introduced here and it blows your mind that it was first kindled in a greasy kitchen. 

As long as Eddie is here, things are easy. You have your flirty boy back and being at work is a little easier again. With Eddie right behind you serving up winks and pet names just as often as he serves up appetizers, going home smelling like beer and deep fried cheese is worth it. 

[bewilderedbunny]

More line cook Eddie thoughts 🥞

(Thank you all for the love on part 1 💖 It means the world to me that people enjoyed it.)

This flirty fluff is just over 700 words, fem!reader although you could switch it from "his girl" to "his boy" or "his person" if you'd like!

Credit to @delishlydelightfuldividers for the divider (I needed some way to break up my erratic thoughts and I chose this honey one to match the breakfast theme)

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

"Hey Eddie, can I please get a side of extra crispy bacon for this table?"

He frowns at you and looks around the kitchen dramatically, "Who's Eddie?" It takes you a second before you realize his game and reply, "Chef, can I please get a side of extra crispy bacon for this table?" A big toothy grin stretches across his face "Sweetheart, I'd give you the whole pig if you asked." As ridiculous as his joke is, it manages to give you butterflies.

Once the bacon is ready, you go to grab the plate from him and graze his hand with yours. You jump a bit at the sensation and he blushes and murmurs "You'd think I'd be used to touching hot stuff by now, wouldn't you?" he's such a dork.

One evening when it's especially slow, you're vacuuming the carpet. It's already spotless but you're just trying to find anything to keep yourself busy. Eddie is sitting on one of the stools, mindlessly twiddling with a toothpick. Once you make your way to where he's seated, he kicks out his foot in front of the vacuum. You look up at him, he's still focused on his toothpick and doesn't acknowledge your presence. You move out of the way and he does it again, still not acknowledging you as he tries desperately to hide his growing smirk. You turn off the vacuum.

"Do you need somethin', chef?"

He blushes the tiniest bit, still not looking at you.

"Nope, all good here sweetheart." He walks off to the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a piece of toast.

You ignore him and continue working with your head down. You notice a line of crumbs in front of where you know you just barely vacuumed. When you look up, Eddie has his back to you as he makes a trail of breadcrumbs for you to vacuum.

You turn off the vacuum and ask him, "What are you doing?! Can't you see I'm trying to clean?"

"Honey I'm helping you! You were just vacuuming air." He still isn't looking at you. The fact that he's bothering you so much while simultaneously ignoring you is driving you crazy.

You roll your eyes and turn the vacuum back on. Once you do, he says something too quiet for you to hear since his back is still turned.

You turn off the appliance.

"What?" You ask

"Hmm? Don't know what you're talking about."

You turn the vacuum back on and he does it again.

"Eddie! Quit messing with me."

He finally turns to face you and crowds you. He's closer to you than he's ever been before and you're suddenly unable to make eye contact with him.

"I haven't even begun to mess with you, sugar."

One morning you are folding napkins and arranging silverware while sitting at the counter. Eddie sees you as he's walking by the kitchen window and smiles, he's over the moon that he gets to work with his girl today.

You glance up at him and give a smile and a wave. He gives you a little wave back and ducks out of view. He starts walking back and forth by the window, looking at you from the corner of his eye. When you finally look up, he starts doing that thing people do when they pretend they are going downstairs. You laugh at his silliness and he looks over at you. "Oh, I'm heading downstairs for a bit. You handle the fort while I'm gone, yeah?" You shake your head at him, covering your mouth to try and dampen your laughter. He comes back into view.

"Hey now, don't go hiding your giggles. Why else do you think I go around making an ass of myself if I didn't want to hear them?"

I mentioned to @greenishghostey in the reblogs for the last post that I love idea of you forgetting your lunch one day and Eddie grabs your order pad and pen and says, "Hi! I'm Eddie, I'll be your server today. Can I get you started with any drinks or appetizers? If you're ready to order, the chef recommends the hotcake special." he adds a silly little fancy accent to "hotcake special" because he is ridiculous.

Thank you for reading! 💕

[satan-is-obsessed]

I NEED MORE LINE COOK EDDIE SERVER STEVE!!! THANK YOU WRITERS

[matchingbatbites]

Server!Steve sending messages to Line Cook!Eddie through order tickets, little smiley faces :) and hearts <3 and 'i miss you :(' during the rush when they haven't seen each other in 30 minutes, and 'i know this order is dumb af please just make it this lady is a bitch'.

Eddie always gives Steve free food to snack on and when Robin complains about it Eddie just says "He's my boyfriend, Robs, so unless you wanna suck my dick-" and she just walks away.

They've been caught making out in the walk in fridge more than once and probably would have been fired already if 1) the restaurant wasn't a little locally owned place and 2) they weren't both the actual best at their jobs.

[faefictions]

Snow in Indiana

Eddie Munson x Reader

5.7k words

Eddie has spent the past decade thinking about the pen pal he lost touch with, but fate has a funny way of bringing people back together when they need it most

Warnings: family death (unedited bc it is 3am and I have been working on this for hours)

“Dear Eddie, 

Does it Snow in Indiana?” 

He had read the beginning of the note hundreds of times by now. He had memorized how each individual letter had been written and slightly smudged. He knew the entire contents of the letter by heart, but that never stopped him from coming back to it from time to time. 

“My grandma hasn’t told me much about Hawkins, just that it’s just like home. Except it’s on the other side of the country. Grandma likes the snow, so I hope you say yes.” 

Something about the innocent nature of your writing calmed him down when things got rough. He had received the note in the middle of August at the beginning of 6th grade. Your grandmother had just moved across the country, and she just so happened to be the Librarian at Eddie’s new middle school. She had told both of you that the other could use a friend, even if you were thousands of miles apart. She also insisted that being pen pals would improve both of your lackluster reading and writing skills. She meant well. 

“Can I tell you the truth? I didn’t want to write you a letter when grandma called and told me I should. My teachers say I’m not good at writing anyway. But Grandma also said maybe you and I could be friends. And I think I would like that.” 

Some of your words had been crossed out with pen, either from misspellings or second thoughts on phrasing. Eddie had stared at the paper for so long that he even knew what was underneath those scribbles. 

When the snow started coming down each winter, it was hard for him to not want to keep the letter on him at all times. The opening line of your first letter to him always floated into his head with the first snowflakes. 

He had written you back to assure you that it does snow in Indiana, that he too had troubles with pleasing his teachers with his school work, and of course, that he too would like to be friends. 

That was over 10 years ago now. He had never met you, never heard your voice, never learned what you looked like (besides the poorly drawn picture you had included for him one time) but you had been a part of him for his middle school years. 

The letters started slowing down in the 8th grade. You had told him you were nervous for high school, that you’d heard that kids were meaner there. The last letter he had sent you was in the summer before both of your freshman years. He hated that he couldn’t remember what he had said, what his last words to you were. All he knew was that he wished you luck for your first day. 

Then the letters stopped completely. After months of checking mailboxes impatiently, he got the hint and gave up. 

At the age of 24, he wishes he sent another letter. He wishes he got some closure on why you stopped writing. He had always wondered if it had been something he had said, or maybe you had just found new friends in high school and decided you didn’t need him anymore. 

He was embarrassed to admit that it was his first heartbreak. So he refused to admit it even happened to anyone he knew now. 

He tucked the old letter in his pocket as another patron entered the diner. He had picked up a second job as the night cook in hopes of saving up enough to to move out of the trailer with Wayne. It had been months of helping Wayne with bills now, and he was just barely starting to see the hard work pay off in his savings account. 

He peeked out the pass through window to get a glimpse of the first customer they’d had in the last hour and a half. The snow had been coming down hard, and it was preventing the already few people who would be coming in to the diner at this hour from showing up. He wasn’t surprised to see the young woman, somewhere around his age, follow the waitress quickly to the booth in the corner and sit down. He was, however, surprised to see no new car in the small lot outside. He hadn’t seen headlights arrive or depart to drop her off. The snow that has accumulated on her hair, even thought it has been covered with a hood, was making him think she had walked a distance to get here. If the counter hadn’t been blocking his view, he would have seen the bottom of her pants completely soaked through from the snow piled outside to confirm his suspicion. 

“Can you start on a stack of pancakes, Ed?”

He nodded at the waitress, Judy, who wasn’t usually one to whisper like she was now. She rushed off to the phone in the back office, which did nothing but pique the interest in Eddie’s under stimulated brain. 

Curiosity got the best of him, so he made his way out of the kitchen quickly, grabbed a mug from the counter and the full coffee pot, and made his way over the girl in the corner. 

You had been staring out the window, and Eddie recognized the look as he approached. You were doing your best to hold yourself together. He was used to this kind of customer at this time of night. People who really needed the company, who had nowhere else to go, often found their way here after midnight. But there was something different about you, and it wasn’t just that he had never seen you around town. No matter how hurt he could tell you were inside, you did your best to keep up a facade when you saw him approaching. 

“Coffee?” he offered, less poised than he had intended.

“Please,” you smiled up at him as he set down the mug and poured. He allowed himself to take you in, and that’s when he saw the snow still caked on to your sneakers, and the damp cloth stretching from the hem above your ankle nearly up to your knees. There was snow yet to melt from head to toe, and you were trying your best not to shake from the cold. 

“You walk here?” He tried to make light conversation as he chuckled, but you weren’t as chipper. 

“My car broke down about a mile up the road. Walking was my only option,” You tried to keep the smile on your face, but Eddie saw the look, almost like a shunned child. As if you were embarrassed by what you had done, preparing for the lecture or consequence coming your way. 

Before he could say anything, Judy returned from the back office. 

“Tow truck won’t be running ’til morning, darlin’. But I left a message telling them you’d call first thing,” Judy gave you a halfhearted smile, before turning to Eddie, “Where’s that stack I told you to start on?” 

“Right, sorry,” he quickly excused himself back to the kitchen, but did his best to listen for the conversation you were having on the other side of the room. 

“Where are you staying tonight? I can try to get you a ride there.” 

“My grandma’s house, well it used to be I guess. I think it’s just a few more miles into town, I’m not a hundred percent sure though, I’ve never been out here.” 

“Used to be your grandma’s house?”

“Yeah, she, uhm… passed away not long ago. Hard to own something six feet under,” you tried to joke, but failed to make either of you laugh, “Funeral service is next week, I came early to pack up her things. Guess I chose the wrong day to drive in though.” 

“I’d say. Well let me see what I can do, do you have the address?” 

“Yeah, it’s right…” you trailed off as you checked your pocket, slowly coming to realize that you had left the torn piece of paper with the address written on it on your passenger seat, right on top of the map you were struggling to follow in the heavy snow. “Guess I left it in the car.” 

Just as the realization was threatening to break you, Eddie came and set a fresh stack of 3 pancakes in front of you. 

“You eat up, it’s on the house. And let me know if you remember any of that address,” Judy smiled at you and walked into the back before you could refuse the free pancakes.

Eddie watched you for the next hour through the pass through window. No other customers came in, so he didn’t exactly have anything better to do. It was nearing 4 am, the end of Eddie’s shift. He had cleaned his station in the kitchen faster than he ever had and made his way out to your table to check on your before he left. 

“Any luck with that address?”

“Don’t think I’d remember it with a gun to my head. I might as well walk back and grab it.” 

“Not a chance. My shift is over in a few minutes. Why don’t I drive you back to your car, you can grab it, and I can get you there.”

“I couldn’t possibly-“

“No need to be polite. You’ve had a rough enough night, let’s just get you home.”

You didn’t correct his phrasing. This was the furthest you had ever been from home, and you were sure as hell feeling that in this strange diner with barely a concept of where you were. The snow falling outside only exacerbated your feeling of being out of place. 

Eddie rushed to the back to grab his belongings and wish Judy a good night, letting her know he was going to get you out of there, before he made his way back out to you. You had brought the hood of your sweatshirt back up, and were staring out at the snow silently. He approached cautiously and gently spoke, “Let’s get out of here,” before guiding you through the door. 

“I’m Eddie, by the way. Sorry I didn’t properly introduce myself earlier.” 

You paused at his name, but he was too busy trying to find his van through the wall of snow to notice. 

“I’m y/n, thanks again for helping. You and Judy are both angels.” 

He smiled at your name for a moment, but kicked the idea from his mind. 

Both of you thought of the letters you had sent all those years ago, unaware that the person climbing into the same car as you was in fact the person you were reminiscing on. 

Eddie shook the snow out of his hair like a wet dog before starting the van. 

“Left out of the lot?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. 

“You know, I’ve helped fix up a few cars in my day. I could take a look under the hood for you when we get there if you’d like.”

“You’re already helping enough, thank you though.”

“I really don’t mind. Can’t hurt just to take a look.” 

The glance and smile he shot you made your stomach do flips. In the low light of the passing, sparse streetlights, he looked incredibly handsome. Your mind wandered back to what you thought your Eddie looked like back in middle school. You had sent him a drawing of yourself, mostly as a joke since your drawing skills as a 12 year old weren’t amazing, but you were also trying to send him the message that you desperately wanted to know him better. Of course, when your grandmother had insisted you become pen pals with a strange boy, you weren’t too happy about the idea, but as time went on, the sound of a friend sounded too nice. You hadn’t had many of them in elementary school, and it concerned your family. But as your friendship with Eddie grew with each letter, you found yourself hoping for something, anything, more. Now, as an adult, you blame your adolescent brain for the silly crush. But that didn’t stop you from thinking about him from time to time, still wondering what he might be doing in that moment, or if he is happy. But most of all, you wondered if he missed you as much as you missed him. 

“You doing alright over there?” he asked you over the quiet metal playing over the speakers. He was playing it at about 1% of the volume he usually listened at, in an attempt to not scare you off just yet. 

“Yeah, just a long night,” you smiled back at him. He nearly assured you that you could be real with him, that he could tell that something more was bothering you, but he worried that would be coming on too strong. And before he could find a way to say it without sounding creepy, you pointed out your car on the side of the road with a sigh. 

It had only been a couple hours since you had left it, but it was nearly buried in the snow. 

“That’s a little more difficult to check out,” He chuckled as he pulled to the side of the road, lighting up your car with his headlights. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just go grab the address and we can get going,” you tried not to sigh as you opened the passenger door. 

“Wait a second,” Eddie reached for your hand before you could make it out of the car, “I’m fine with taking a look, and I can grab the address too. No need for you to get cold again.” 

“I already walked a mile in the snow earlier, I don't think a minute out there will kill me.”

“All the more reason for you to stay in here if you ask me.”

“Fine, but skip looking under the hood. I can call the tow truck when I wake up, it should be fine until then. Even if you could fix it with nothing, I don’t think I should be driving any more today.”

“Long trip?”

“Since 8 am. I really just want to get to sleep.”

“Deal,” he smiled again before stretching his hand out to you, “Keys?”

You reluctantly let him have the keys to go grab the paper, but not before trying to assure him you were capable of grabbing it yourself. You watched him as he rushed as fast as he could through the near foot of snow, grabbed the address, and rushed back to the van. 

“You didn’t lock it,” you stated, nervous to not to sound nagging. 

“I know, do you have a bag or something I can grab for you?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, where is it?”

“It’s in the back seat on the passenger side. It’s a small black suitcase.”

“You got it, here, take this,” he handed you the torn paper with your grandmother’s previous address written on it in a handwriting that would have been familiar to him, had he glanced down at it. 

He ran back to grab your suitcase, and made sure to double check that the doors had locked after he shut them before he rushed back to the van. He threw your suitcase in the backseat before jumping back into the drivers seat. 

“I don’t know how you lasted a mile in that, I’m already freezing,” he complained, but his smile still refused to leave his face. 

“I’m sorry,” you tried yet again to apologize. 

“Don’t be,” he paused to look you in the eye to assure you that he wasn’t upset in the slightest, “Now let’s see that address. Hopefully I actually know where it is.”

You handed him the paper, and even in the low light, you couldn’t miss the way his face fell, even for a millisecond. He hadn’t seemed to stop smiling all night, but the second he saw the paper, it faltered for just a moment. 

“Everything ok?” 

He looked up at you, and you could tell he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. 

“Yeah, uhm, this is on the other side of town though. It’s a bit of a drive, is that ok?”

“I’d rather drive a little further than stay in my car tonight. So yeah, it’s fine,” you giggled, relieved that he didn’t seem angry or annoyed with you like you thought. 

But he had seen the handwriting. He would know it anywhere, yet he still wouldn’t let himself get caught up in the coincidences. You were just a girl with similar handwriting, and the same name. You weren’t his y/n. He could never be so lucky. 

“So, what brings you to town?” he asked after a moment of driving. 

“It isn’t the happiest story, and I don’t want to be a bummer.” 

“I’m nosey, and that does nothing to curb my interest,” he joked. He just needed to prod, he needed to know if he was being crazy. 

“My grandma passed… about a week ago now. Her funeral is next week, but someone needed to clean up her house for the service, and no one else wanted to make the drive out.” 

“Do you have any other family in the area to help out?”

“No, she only had 2 sons. My dad and my uncle, and they’re both back west. She moved here, like, 12 years ago now I think. Maybe 13.” 

Just another coincidence. He’s not this lucky. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eyes. You hadn’t heard that yet. Just stressed adults complaining about how traveling in the winter was too much of a hassle. Hearing those words, from a near stranger no less, was enough to make you tear up. And Eddie could hear that in your voice when you thanked him, but he chose not to comment on it. 

“So,” you began after a moment of awkward silence, “How long have you lived in Hawkins?”

“My whole life.”

“Do you like it here?”

“Uh… It has its moments,” he tried his best to hide his discontent with the town. If it weren’t for his uncle, his band, and his small group of friends, he would have ran for the hills by now. He was too attached to them to run… and also lacking the funds to do so. 

“That good huh?” you laughed. 

“Hate to sound like an ass, but there are definitely plenty of cons that outweigh the pros for me half the time. But that’s not everyone’s experience.”

“Grandma seemed to like it, but she also liked it back home, and it’s no cake walk back there.” 

You almost spat the end of your sentence, and although it wasn’t spoken explicitly, Eddie understood. 

“Sorry, I don’t mean to keep bringing the conversation down. It’s just been a really long week.”

“I believe it,” He paused, “So how long are you going to be staying in town then?”

“I have no idea. Rumor is Grandma left me the house. And even if she did…. I’m sorry, I’ve been awake for almost 24 hours now, and driving for over 15 of them. I know you really don’t need to hear any of this.” 

You started to make your body as small as possible, hyper aware of how loudly you had been speaking, and how riled up you were getting. Your father would have hated to see it. But not Eddie. 

“No, keep going. Like I said, I’m nosey, and it sounds like you could use someone to talk to about this.” 

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he agreed nonchalantly, unaware how much it meant to you. 

“My grandma and I were really close before she moved. She didn’t get along with either of her sons, but she was the world to me as a kid. And my dad put up no effort to even reach out to her in the past decade, but he expects all of her stuff to be left to him, and my uncle wants the same. But my mom told me that one of them had reason to believe that she left it all to me. I don’t even know where they heard it, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not ungrateful, I promise. I just don’t know what to do about the two grown men that she apparently left out of the will if that’s true, and how mad they’re going to be at me.” 

“They wouldn’t be mad at you.” 

“You don’t know my dad,” you scoffed. You knew damn well that the man wasn’t afraid of throwing a tantrum, especially if it came to money. And he wouldn’t care if you were the one getting hurt in the process. 

“What would they have to be mad at you for though? For your Grandma loving you enough to leave you something to start your life on? How is that your fault?”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s my fault, they just care that they get their share. If it’s left to me, I might as well just divvy it up before they say anything.”

“But that’s not what you want, is it?”

“I just don’t want to have any issue with them.” 

“I’m sorry, that’s not fair to you.” 

“You really need to stop being so nice, you’re going to make me cry,” you chuckled, genuinely fighting back the tears as you spoke. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled back. He took a subject before continuing. “Have you seen the house? Like have you ever visited?”

“No, actually. Who knows, maybe it’s a real fixer upper and I’d be better off passing it on to my uncle,” you giggled, and that put the smile back on Eddie’s face. 

“If I didn’t mess up the address, it should just be in this next neighborhood.”

You kept saying that all you wanted was to get some rest after your long day, but now that you were talking to Eddie, you didn’t want the drive to end. The disappointment hit you like a rock as he pulled into the driveway of your grandmothers old house, but the feeling quickly turned to something else as you looked out the window to see the beautiful 2 story house with large trees on either side. 

“So much for the fixer upper theory,” Eddie said with a whistle, but you were speechless. This was much more than you had been anticipating, much nicer than you had spent your younger years picturing every time you missed your grandma. 

“You ok?” he asked after a moment of silence. 

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was just taking it in,” you chuckled nervously, still staring at the house. 

“Why don’t we get you inside?” He said, reaching in the back for your suitcase. You put a hand gently on his arm to stop him, and he looked up to see your nearly empty stare, still on the building in front of you. 

“Can you give me just a minute? I’m sorry, I know it’s late.” 

“No, it’s fine… Are you ok?”

“Yeah…Yeah, It just,” you trailed off for a moment, “I hadn’t seen her in years. Had no idea what her house looked like, or what she looked like anymore. I got letters, I got calls, but… Part of all this didn’t feel as real. Going in there, that’s real.” 

“Want me to come in with you?”

“No, that’s fine. I just need a second.” 

“Have you ever lost anyone before?”

You didn’t answer, just shook your head as you moved your eyes from the house to him. 

“Let me walk you in. You shouldn’t be alone for that.” 

You looked back at the house for a moment, took a deep breath, and nodded your head. 

Eddie carried your suitcase through the front door, and you both kicked off your shoes before stepping on the carpet. You took a deep breath before reaching for the light switch. Eddie sensed your hesitation as your fingers hovered. He took the opportunity to grab the fingers of your other hand. It gave you enough courage to turn on the light in the entry way. 

The furniture was mostly unfamiliar. You could see a few pieces in the living room that you had remembered from your childhood, and the sense of nostalgia calmed you. Eddie let you walk ahead of him, letting go of your hand as you ventured further into the room. Slowly but surely, you made your way to a wall on the other side of the room. It was covered in pictures, new and old, of your grandma with family and friends. You recognized yourself in plenty of them, but the newer ones were the ones that you couldn’t stop looking at. She looked so much older that you had remembered, but still had the youthful glow to her that you had attributed to her mischievousness. No matter how old she got, how wrinkled her face grew, or how gray her had and gotten, you still recognized her. Part of your heart began to ache for not knowing her as she was before she passed. It had been so long. 

You felt Eddie approach you from behind, and you expect him to say something nice, or encouraging. But he didn’t. He was surprisingly quiet. You turned to make sure he was alright, but he didn’t seem fine. He was staring at one of the photos on the wall, and he looked like he was about to be sick.

“Are you ok, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Uh, yeah,” he replied, still white as a sheet as he tore his eyes from the photo to look at you. He barely shot you a half smile before looking back up at the pictures. You took a step back to stand next to him. 

“I just remembered that she worked at the middle school when she moved here. Did you know her?”

“Yeah.”

“…Did you like her?” you tried asking after waiting for him to say anything more. 

“Yeah, she introduced me to my best friend.”

“Me too,” you smiled at the memory of your old pen pal. 

“Someone back home?”

“No, actually. I probably shouldn’t refer to him as that still. We haven’t spoken in… years actually.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, finally peeling his eyes away from the photos on the wall. 

He should have said more, but he didn’t know what else to say. This was her. He was in shock. The girl he had spent the last decade wondering about had wandered into his diner. His thoughts were moving a mile a minute, he felt like he could physically hear them, and it was hard to focus on anything you had possibly said. But luckily, you weren’t saying much. 

He followed you like a ghost as you explored the first floor of the house. You were happy you had arrived before anyone else. You had the chance to see the house how she had left it, how she had lived in it. It gave you a sense of closure you weren’t going to get otherwise, it felt as if you were getting a sense of knowing her once again. You were caught up in it until you saw a clock on the wall, reading nearly 5 am. Realization hit you that you were keeping Eddie, and a sense of guilt washed over you. You turned to find him, with a bit of color returned to his face. 

“It’s really late, I’m sorry I’ve kept you. You can go home if you’d like. I’m sure you want to get some rest too after your shift.” 

He took a second, before asking, “Are you sure you’ll be alright?” And you hesitated before nodding. 

“Honestly, the roads are pretty bad out there. I could stay on the couch, help you figure out your car in the morning. How does that sound?”

He way have been a complete stranger just hours ago, but you really did feel like you could trust him. So you smiled and nodded. 

“I’ll go find some blankets for you,” you smiled before disappearing up the stairs. Eddie didn’t expect you to come back for a while. You were bound to find your grandmothers bedroom and need to look around for a while. He made his way back to the living room while he waited. He stared at the wall again, but not in shock this time. Now that he knew was 24 year old you looked like, he desperately want to see what 12 year old you looked like. He found a picture near the middle of the wall, of a young girl smiling at the camera. It was the only photo on the wall without your grandmother in it. She had your eyes, had your smile, but most importantly, she actually looked like the drawing he had received all those years ago. You weren’t as bad of an artist as you’d thought. Eddie tried not to grow emotional staring at the photo. He only tore his eyes away from the picture of younger you when he heard you making your way back down the stairs.

Before you could reach Eddie, you paused by the window next to the back door, blankets in hand. The snow coated the back yard, reflecting the light from the back porch into the sky. You began to tear up, just as Eddie approached to take the blankets from you. He saw one of the first tears fall down your cheek, and quickly, but gently put an arm around you. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just… Is this what it looks like every winter?” you asked, looking up at him with misty eyes. 

“For parts of it, yeah. Why?”

“Grandma loved the snow,” was all you could reply before looking back out at the yard. 

He contemplated it for a second, fought himself on whether or not this was the right moment to say it, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“I told you she’d like it here” 

A moment passed as you processed what he had said. You gasped quietly, quickly turning your head to face him. He looked nervous, as if he had just handed his heart to you on a platter, waiting to see if you would reject it. 

“Eddie?” you asked cautiously, and you both knew what the question really was. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, still nervous and unable to read what you were thinking. 

“You stopped writing,” was all you could get out before another tear dropped. 

“What?”

“Y-you stopped writing,” you repeated, beginning to choke on your breathes as you spoke. 

He nearly panicked as he tried to reply. 

“Y/n, w-what do you mean? I only stopped writing when you stopped replying.”

“Oh my god, it’s really you,” you couldn’t stop looking at him, another tear dropping down your cheek. Your exhaustion was exaggerating your emotions, but you may have felt the same regardless. You had waited 12 years for this moment. 

“Yeah. Why don’t we go sit down,” he smiled at you, before herding you towards the couch. 

“Y/n,” he spoke softly as he crouch in front of you, one hand resting on each of your knees as you sat on the couch, “What do you mean I stopped writing?”

“I sent you a letter, you never replied.”

“That’s impossible, I waiting for months to hear back from you. There’s no way I missed a letter from you.”

“No, I sent one, and I waited, but you never replied. You broke my heart Eds,” you quietly began to sob, filled with too many mixed emotions. 

Eddie quickly sat next to you on the couch and pulled you to his chest to comfort you the best he could, but he was still confused. He had checked his own mailbox, his neighbors mailboxes, other houses in town with the same street number as his trailer. This didn’t add up. He quietly shushed you as he thought. 

“What did the last letter say?” he asked as you began to calm down just slightly. He had half the collection of your letters memorized, but especially the first and last. He would know if he had read it if you described it. 

“It was before Freshman year, I told you how scared I was that all the kids were going to be mean. I was so afraid that I was going to get singled out for still having no friends, and I waited for months to hear back from you. But you never wrote back. You were my only friend, and you stopped writing.”

“No, sweetheart, I would never,” he sighed as his heart dropped. He got that letter, he replied to it. Which meant that she never got his last letter. Neither of them had stopped writing on purpose, they had both assumed the other had given up. But he had sent out one last letter that was unaccounted for.

“Sweetheart, can you look at me,” he gently guided you to look up at him, “I promise you, I wrote back. I don’t know what happened to it, but I never would have stopped writing like that. I thought you had just ignored my last letter.”

“You wrote,” you said quietly, and Eddie couldn’t tell if it was a question, or if you were trying to reassure yourself. 

“I did, I promise,” he whispered as he swept a tear off your cheek with his thumb. 

And though you still needed to know what happened to his letter, and you had had one of the longest days of your life, nothing mattered more to you in that moment than leaning in, slowly. You took a second, pausing right before reaching his lips so he could pull away if he wanted, but he didn’t. It was a quick kiss, but it was gentle and sweet. Eddie didn’t try to pull you in for another, but he didn’t want to part as you pulled away. 

It took him a second to open his eyes again, but when he did, he was smiling just as big as you. 

“You ok?” he asked for what must have been the hundredth time that night. But unlike every other time you had answered, this time you told him the truth. 

“I am now.”

(may or may not be already trying to figure out a part 2 for this, depending on if people like it <3 )

@embrace-themagic @fanficparker  @heartbeats-wildly @saturn-aka-six @calum-hoodwinked-me @peterplanet @mischiefmanaged49 @nicotine-sunshine820 @itsjusttor @emistrash @thenoddingbunny-blog @sovereignparker @raajali3 @eddielives1986 @eddieswifu @chickpeadumpsterfire @fluffybunnyu @panagiasikelia @canthavetoomuchchaos @whenshelanded @starlitlakes @witchwolflea @ali-r3n @g0thdraculaura @celestcies

[jadequeen88]

As someone who has worked many different service industry jobs, I obviously have lots of thots about line cook! Eddie. Let me elaborate:

Eddie is the one cook who keeps all the other younger hooligans in line. Did they make a rude comment about your skirt riding up while you’re picking up a drink someone spilled? Spatula to the back of the head. They need to learn to treat these hard-working girls with some respect. One of them wolf whistles? Eddie pinches their ear, looks at you apologetically, and says, “Sorry, sweetheart. This one here is barely housebroken. Doesn’t know how to act around pretty ladies.”

He’s also definitely the one all the servers have a crush on. He’s the topic of many smoke break discussions. You didn’t even smoke until you worked there, just wanting an excuse to bat your lashes and bum cigarettes off him. One night, he grinned as he took a long drag and let the smoke curl out, saying he was smoking his last one, but you could have a hit off it if you wanted. Instead of taking it from him, you wrapped your lips around the filter as he was still holding it. Watching his pupils widen and seeing him lick his lips in response was a big payoff for such a risky move. 

The other servers start getting jealous of your special treatment, but Eddie really doesn’t give a fuck, and as long as your boss is happy with your work, you’re fine with it too. Sometimes he moves your ticket to the front of the queue if it’s a really busy night and the other girls have been giving you a hard time. You shake your head in weak protest, but Eddie just says, “I gotta give my favorite girl the red carpet treatment every now and then, don’t I? You work so hard, darlin’. I gotta do my part to help you keep those bastards out there happy. Keeps that tip money coming in for ya’.” He gives you a wink as he twirls his spatula and gets to work, leaving you a blushing mess. 

Up to this point, you thought it was just Eddie being a flirt because you were the new girl, but the night you see him with one of the particularly annoying cooks pinned against the wall by his throat for calling you a “dumb bitch”, you start to suspect your crush might not be as one-sided as you’d originally thought. Afterward, he walked up to you and asked if you were okay. The gentle caress he placed against your cheek made your lashes flutter before you could stop yourself. “Y-yeah, Eddie. Thanks.” His thumb brushed along your cheekbone, and he graced you with the lopsided smile you loved before pulling away to say, “No one talks about my favorite girl that way.” You were in a daze the rest of your shift. 

A couple of nights after that interaction, you stay late to wrap all the silverware and cut all the lemons. You knew the other servers left those time-consuming tasks for you as a punishment, but you refused to neglect to do them and put the opening shift in a bind. Even if it was fucked up of them to do that to you in the first place. You realized after a few minutes that someone else was there deep cleaning the grill. You nearly dropped a whole container of freshly cut lemons when you heard whoever it was singing along to one of your favorite songs you’d been silently head-banging along to as you worked. 

The soulful delivery of this mystery man’s singing had you weak in the knees, and it only got worse when you peeked around the corner to see that big voice coming out of Eddie’s mouth. His eyes were closed, bandana-clad head thrown back, as he scraped the grease off the grill and sang his heart out. He must have sensed you standing there, because he turned towards you and jumped a little, those pretty chocolate orbs widening. It was kind of adorable. 

“Shit, sweetheart! Didn’t know I had company, or I’d have kept my wailing to a minimum!” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. How dare he have the nerve to look embarrassed when all you could think about was getting on your knees and under that apron after hearing his voice?

“Eddie, that was…” your voice cracked a little. You cleared your throat and continued. “That was amazing. I love that song, by the way. Not many people here listen to them. You do it justice.”

He turned red and couldn’t meet your eyes, a rare way for the bold man to behave. You liked this side of him. “I do okay, I guess, but I’m better on guitar than vocals.” It seemed to dawn on him that you revealed that you had a similar taste in music then because he perked up and met your gaze again. “Wait, you listen to this kind of stuff?” You nodded and grinned at his sudden switch in tone. “Damn, I didn’t know you could get any more badass!” You laughed at that. “You know,” he continued and cleared his throat. “I’m in a band. We do okay. Decent crowds. We play Tuesday and Friday nights down at the Hideout.”

That’s how you end up at a dive bar the following Friday night, front row cheering Eddie on as he shreds on stage. Afterward, he grabs you up into a sweaty hug, spinning you around. “That’s the best I’ve ever played, baby.” Your heart fluttered. He hasn’t used that pet name before… “You gotta come to every show now and be my good luck charm!” You giggled and agreed. Like you’d ever turn down that offer. 

The flirting amps up at work after that. Eddie yelling out, “There she is! Light of my life, goddess incarnate! How’s your day going, sweetness?” from behind the grill becomes a daily thing. “‘M doing fine, Eddie. How about you?” You always answer. You know what he’s going to say before his mouth even opens, but it gives you butterflies every time. “Million times better now I’ve seen you! Now go out there, kick-ass, and get those tips!”

Things come to a head one night when you’re dealing with a table of Hawkin’s “elite,” the rich boys that thought being born on the right side of the tracks made them special. It didn’t help that their table was in view of Eddie’s workstation. He had a front-row seat to the show, watching them flirt with you, and you have to put up with it, having to smile through it. When the loudest one slipped you his phone number, Eddie couldn’t take it. You heard a clatter and saw a flash of dark curls exit through the back. “What’s going on?” You asked one of the other guys. They all shrugged and looked at each other, just as lost as you were. 

You walk out back and see Eddie leaning against the rough brick wall lighting his second cigarette. He jolts upright when he sees it’s you. “Oh, hey sweetheart. Need to bum one?” He holds the carton towards you, and you can’t help but notice his sad eyes. 

“No, Eds. Can I just have a drag off yours?” 

“Course darlin’,” he mumbles around his cigarette before holding it out to you. He just expects you to let him hold it for you by now. It doesn’t mean it makes his chest ache with want any less, though. 

“What’s the matter, Eds?” You ask sweetly. It embarrasses him that he’s so weak for you. 

“Nothin' to worry about. Promise.” He tries to smile, but he knows you can see right through him. 

You had a feeling it had to do with the asshole trying to give you his number earlier, but you’re still a little nervous to address it and get rejected. So you take a deep breath, brace yourself, and ask, “Was it because that guy gave me his number?”

Eddie couldn’t meet your eyes, “Am I that obvious, sweetheart?” he sighed and looked up to the star-speckled sky overhead, “Some days, I wanna come clean so you’ll reject me already. Put myself outta this misery. But I always chicken out,” he turned to you with misty eyes, “I'm a coward, you know? I’d rather have little pieces of you than nothing at all.”

He barely finished his speech before your hands found his stubbled cheeks, and your mouth was on his. Eddie tasted how you’d imagined he would, the cigarette you shared and cherry chapstick. His eyes closed and he sighed sweetly. It was pure heaven. You pulled away and he smiled bigger than you’d ever seen.

“You silly man,” you whispered, nudging his nose with yours, “All you had to do was ask me out and I’d have said yes.”

“All this time?!” he said, eyes bulging and voice going high.

“Yes! All this time,” you responded. Now it was his turn to initiate a kiss, this one more consuming than the last, his tongue barely swiping your bottom lip. You whined under his touch, making him turn desperate.

“Baby, we gotta revisit this in a couple of hours. Just so I know that I'm not hallucinating.”

“You got it, Eds,” you bit your lip and pulled away from him to go back inside to finish your shift. Before the door closed behind you, you could hear Eddie whooping and cheering in celebration. Needless to say, as soon as you were both clocked out that night, you never kept your hands off each other again.

NOTE: Thanks to everyone on the discord server for fueling this madness. I’d love to revisit this and write an actual fic with smutty goodness. So everyone, let me know what you think!!

@trashmouth-richie @munson-blurbs @pinkrelish @eddiemunsonsmum @courtingchaos @corroded-hellfire @chestylarouxx

[stevesjockstrap]

Butter Him Up

🎁 Merry Christmas to @eddiethehunted who asked for nasty feral linecook!Eddie smut - props to you for answering smut questions in front of your grandma

Steve/Eddie • rated: E • vague timeline, no UD, inappropriate use of a staff bathroom, come and Steve’s uniform tie 🫠 now on ao3

When he’d applied for the job at the restaurant, he assumed it would be like working at Scoops or the movie theater, people order food and he gave it to them. He could handle that. Steve wasn’t a stranger to an embarrassing outfit, either. This one wasn’t even embarrassing, really. He actually liked the button down and tie, the half apron with big pockets.

The real issue was Eddie. The line cook.

Eddie made him feel like he was doing everything wrong, always asking him questions about his tickets or confusing him about sides and substitutions. He leered at him and made comments about his uniform like every other server wasn’t wearing the same exact thing. It made him crazy.

But when he walked into the kitchen, Eddie wasn’t there.

“Hey Jon, where’s Eddie tonight?” He asked, trying to keep his voice casual as he punched in.

“Their band had a gig, out in Indy, I think Gareth said. You’re going to have to make do with the rest of us tonight,” he sent him a wry smile.

Steve huffed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jon threw a towel over his shoulder and came closer to the counter, still giving him a sly smile. “We all see you two dancing around each other, man. It’s entertaining. Be careful there, he’s not known for his, uh, tenderness,” he chuckled.

Steve blinked. “Um. Okay? I’m not interested in anything with Eddie, alright?”

“Sure, Steve, whatever you say.”

It wasn’t until a few hours later that it hit him.

He did like it. Liked Eddie ‘dancing around him,’ like Jonathan said. He’d always been sort of an attention whore and tonight he felt off, unsteady without Eddie infuriating him with his comments and constantly feeling his eyes on him. On his ass.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath as he filled up water cups. What was he going to do about this?

“Heard you missed me yesterday, big boy,” Eddie jeered at him.

He took a moment to really look at him, a wild smile all teeth and tongue, metal shining from his lips and eyebrow and nose, tattoos across his throat and down his forearms where his own white button down was rolled up. Steve wanted to yank his hair out of the pile on top of his head. Oh.

“Sure did, Eds,” he replied with a quick wink.

He watched with satisfaction as a shock wave went though Eddie’s features, not expecting the pushback.

It didn’t seem to stop the comments or all the eye fucking, which Steve was now expecting and then maybe encouraging.

“Doll face, if they have an egg allergy they can’t have the Caesar dressing. Go see what they want.”

“Hey sweet cheeks, this appetizer for table 23 has been here longer than you’ve worked here, can you go take it to them?”

Steve put a swing to his hips as he took the plate with a smile and headed back to the front. He thought maybe there was a crash behind him as the door swung shut. He smirked to himself.

After the big dinner rush, he punched in his own shift meal and stood watching as Eddie got the ticket.

“You going on break, babydoll?”

“Yeah, you gunna come?”

There was a cut off sound and Gareth snickered next to him at the line.

By the time he was shoved into the staff bathroom, Eddie seemed to have recovered his attitude.

Big hands grabbed at his ass, and Eddie groaned into his ear. “Shit, Stevie. You’ve been teasing me with this ridiculous ass of yours forever.”

“Uh huh,” he gasped as he was pulled forward roughly and their hard lengths rubbed against each other, a hot mouth finding his neck. Eddie already had him wound so tight and he felt like he was going to explode. “Please-“

“I know, sweets. You’re already so desperate, huh?”

Steve whined as his apron was untied and thrown, his shirt rucked out of his pants so hands could work their way down the back of them to grab a handful.

Then he was quickly pushed away as Eddie ordered, “Down on your knees, I think, darlin’. There’s a good boy. Need those lips around me. Shut you up good, huh?”

Steve was quick to comply, just as ready to sink down onto his knees for him. They both fumbled with his belt and zipper, Eddie finally slapping his hands away and yanking his boxers under his balls.

Eddie’s dick was big, and already so hard, precome beading at the head. His mouth watered and he immediately opened it and stuck his tongue out.

“Such a cock slut, aren’t you, pretty? Yeah, you need it so bad, don’t you?”

He nodded, tongue still out as Eddie held his cock just out of reach for another moment before tapping it onto his tongue. Steve went up on his knees, trying to push further down on his length and received a few inches for his trouble. Hands came around the back of his head to rake through his hair and he moaned around him. Suddenly the hands pulled him roughly up, shoving his length down his throat. He gagged and tears sprung to his eyes.

“That’s it, shit, the mouth on you. Ah-”

Steve tried to suck in breaths through his nose as Eddie pulled him back and forth, licking around the head and keeping his teeth out of the way while his throat was fucked open on his gorgeous cock.

Suddenly he needed something else. He slid back and looked up, gasping out, “Fuck me, Eddie, please-“

“Jesus Christ, Stevie. Of course. Get up here.”

Eddie yanked him to his feet and pushed him against the sink. He made quick work of his fly, letting his pants slide down his legs.

“So wet for me already, pretty. Turn around. That’s it.”

When he found himself bent over the sink, some small semblance of sense sparked in his brain. “Lube,” he gasped. He couldn’t string a sentence together to save his life right now. “I-“ he shook his head.

“Got it, sweets. Been carrying it around since your second day here. I’ve fantasized about you spreading your legs for me every day since then.”

“Fuck,” he breathed. Why was that hot?

“Yeah, dreamed about bending you over the bar and letting the whole place watch.” Eddie grabbed handfuls of his ass again quickly before yanking his underwear down. They both groaned when he pulled his cheeks apart and spit directly onto him.

“Oh, holy shit,” he whined as fingers rubbed the wetness around his rim. “C’mon, Ed-“

“You gunna let me in this tight little hole?” Eddie taunted. He must’ve added some lube before he pushed a finger in roughly, Steve raising up on his toes with a squeak. “That’s it, gotta stretch you out for this big cock.”

“Oh my god.”

“Just Eddie works, sweetheart,” he chuckled darkly.

Steve shuddered, the condescending tone sending him further to the stratosphere. He arched his back as he added another finger. “You are- ah- such a dick!” He said between clenched teeth.

“Sure am, baby. And you love it. Think I’m gunna come all over this ass. Rub it in and let you walk around with me all over you as you finish your shift. How’s that sound, my little slut?”

He, naturally, decided then to press solidly against his prostate and Steve lost the plot of the conversation again, only able to gasp and groan as another finger was introduced to his entrance. He pushed back against it, trying to hurry him up. For someone ‘not known for their tenderness’ he sure was taking his time in his preparation.

“Such a little slut, Stevie. I know, I know, we’re getting there. Hold your horses.”

Finally, there was a blunt wet head pushing against his rim and he moaned as it popped in.

“Mmm, you gunna be loud for me, baby? Let the whole place know you’re getting what’s coming to you?”

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that wasn’t ideal for his job or reputation, but the rest of him thought that was a great plan. Nodding and whining since he couldn’t get any words to come out, Eddie chuckling at him.

Now he realized the prep he’d thought was excessive was necessary and almost cursory, as Eddie continued to press forward and his dick stretched him impossibly. He whimpered and gasped, Eddie pulling him upright and he got to watch them in the mirror as he finally bottomed out inside of him.

“Holy fuck,” Steve breathed. Thankfully Eddie took pity on him and gave him a moment to adjust, mouthing down his neck to his collar.

With a smirk, he pulled out, looking pointedly down between them, probably knowing Steve was watching in the mirror.

“Your greedy little hole is sucking me right back in, darlin’- oh fuck- so fucking tight,” Eddie rambled.

He shoved back in and rubbed over his prostate, making Steve shake and arch his back for more. His head dropped forward and he heard a tsk from behind him.

With a grin, Eddie grabbed the tie around his neck, spinning it around and wrapping it around his fist, using it to keep him from falling forward. The threat and the tightness around his throat made his dick twitch and he automatically wrapped a hand around himself.

His arms were suddenly pulled back and Eddie held onto his wrists in the small of his back.

“Uh uh, greedy. You’re gunna wait. Think you can come just from my cock? Huh?”

Steve wailed as the angle changed and his prostate was nailed again and again, pulled around like a rag doll as Eddie held onto his wrists and his hip. He didn’t know how he was even still standing, his legs shaking under him.

“Christ, I knew your ass would be magnificent, doll face,” Eddie huffed into his ear. “Look at you, so drunk on my cock you don’t even know which way is up, poor baby.”

Steve cracked an eye open and tried to make sense of what he was seeing in the mirror, his own flushed cheeks, mouth open, tear tracks and drool making a mess of his face. His hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead and sticking up where Eddie had raked his hands through it. He looked completely fucked.

The heat in his belly coiled tighter and he gasped out, “Cl-close, Eds!”

“Me too, sweetheart. C’mon, come for me and I’ll decorate this perfect ass of yours.”

Something must’ve shown on his face or Eddie just instinctively knew what he needed but he watched as the tattooed arm left his hip and his hand wrapped around his neck, pressing just right on the sides.

His eyes rolled back and he may have screamed as his orgasm shot through him, his hips rolling forward and back through the aftershocks. Eddie growled in his ear as he continued fucking him through it as he clenched around him.

“So fucking good, Stevie,” he hissed before pulling out roughly.

His wrists were released and he miraculously caught himself as he dropped forward onto the sink, able to see just Eddie’s face as he jerked himself off above him.

“Oh fuck, can’t wait to see you shaking this ass around for everyone, knowing it’s covered in me, ah- all mine.” He grunted lowly and Steve gasped again as he felt the hot splashes against his back and down his cheeks. Big hands immediately started rubbing it in, making sure to cover every inch and down his crack.

“Pull your pants up, slut,” he growled.

After barely making it through the rest of his shift, he wasn’t surprised when Eddie met him at the back door. “Your place or mine, baby cakes?”

Gareth ran to Jonathan’s car as he pulled in for his shift the next afternoon, “You owe me fifty bucks!” He held out his hand with a wide smile.

“Fuck!”

[courtingchaos]

Line Cook Eddie

Amaretto Sour

Blackberry + Smash

Torte

Braised

Strawberry

Choux

[bewilderedbunny]

Line Cook Eddie part 4 🥞

700+ words of flirty fluff, bad jokes and a musical number. Fem!reader but feel free to switch around the pronouns ☺️

Author's note: Hi friends! I seriously cannot thank you all enough for the love on this series of blurbs. It makes me so happy. I'm going through some stuff in my personal life right now and writing about a lovesick loser (affectionate) is keeping me sane.

Friendly reminder: This blog is 18+ only and minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Credit to @delishlydelightfuldividers for the honey divider 💖

If you'd like to listen to the song mentioned, here's a link to it on Spotify

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

"Hey Chef?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"What is 'Eddie' short for?"

"Edward. Why?"

"Is-" you try to stifle your laughter "-is 'Chef' short for Chefward?"

He gives you an annoyed look before shaking his head and laughing. It's an awful joke but he loves it nonetheless.

He opens his mouth to say something but stops himself. He was going to ask, "Yeah, you wanna be Mrs. Chefward Munson?" But he figures you're not quite there yet.

It's 3pm on a Tuesday, the diner is pretty much dead save for two older women who have been gossiping in their booth since they came in at 1. You're busying yourself with cleaning the countertops, Eddie has his elbows resting on the window counter and his head resting in his, looking bored while he watches you. The radio in the diner is set to Soul and R&B, it usually is. One song ends and then "Baby You Got It" by Brenton Wood starts to play. You nod your head to the song and jump once you hear Eddie begin to sing along. It's absolutely not his usual style but he's learned it from how many times it is played on this station. You walk up to him with eyes wide, the two women seem to be so wrapped up in their stories that they don't pay attention to him.

"Eddie" you whisper trying to get him to stop.

He smiles at you and leaves the kitchen. You watch him as he comes out into the dining area, still singing. He walks up to you,

"Foxy clothes" he tugs at your apron string.

"Cutest nose" he boops your nose.

You're mortified yet endeared, a combination you so often feel around him.

The women are staring now with their mouths open as he serenades you. You're holding your face in your hands.

"People can be cruel, they say I've lost my cool" he makes eye contact with the women and looks back at you.

"But baby it's hard to keep my cool when I'm around you" He has most certainly lost his cool.

He holds your face in his hands, "Cause baby, you got it" your heart is beating a mile a minute as you look into his eyes. He looks down at your lips for just a second, then you both jump at the sound of clapping and whistling from the two ladies. You give them a sheepish wave and lightly elbow Eddie. "Back to work, Romeo."

For lunch you order a plate of pancakes for yourself. He places the plate on the counter for you and gives you a smile. You go to grab the plate and say, "Thank you, Chef. Do we have any peanut butter?"

He raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I think so. Why? Someone want a PB&J?"

You shake your head. "S'for the pancakes."

He gasps and covers his mouth.

"What kind of person would do that to my pancakes?!"

You shrug at his dramatics and say, "I would, they're for me." and pulls away your plate, horrified that he could have feelings for such a monster.

"Sweetheart, why are you tainting my delicious food? You a dog or something? Gotta put peanut butter on food to eat it?"

You swat at him "Don't call me a dog! That's rude."

"Well, you're being rude by messing with perfection."

You huff at him and sneak back to the kitchen, grabbing the peanut butter. You spread a thin layer over each pancake as Eddie watches you in horror. You pour over the maple syrup and cut yourself a piece.

"You're just doing this to mess with me, aren't you?"

You look up at him before taking a bite. It's delicious, nutty, creamy and syrupy, all the good things.

He shakes his head, "You're committed to the bit, I'll give you that."

You roll your eyes. "It isn't a bit! Here, just try it."

He sighs and decides to try it. Not because he thinks he will like it, but because it would mean he gets to eat off of your fork (which is basically like kissing, right?)

You hold the fork up to his lips and he takes a tentative bite.

"I mean... I'm not going to die or anything. But I'm still not happy with you, missy."

In reality, the pancakes are fine, but the way you're sharing them together has him thinking this may be his favorite meal ever.

Thank you for reading! Take care 🥞💖

[midniterose]

Just watched this ep.

Eddie Kingston is such a little shit, I can’t even.

[kingdomofsixx]

punk!steve is a line cook and hes DEFINITELY the one everyone tries to fuck

[sloelimbs]

Babe I'm gonna give you total creative freedom bc I trust you completely, BUT if you want a prompt, let's go with 'pineapple.'

since i'm down to my last two requests (i know it's taking me forever, i'm sorry, i have medical shit going down) i'm just going to pop in here that my askbox is open and i take requests! now, the story:

The line comes to him with the same kind of flash of inspiration as a riff, or a brilliant lyric, several years into his employment at the Hideout. He still plays on Tuesdays, because he and the guys could never give up on the double Cs, but more or less every other night of the week he’s in there serving drinks and cleaning glasses. It’s not without resentment that Eddie acknowledges he’s met more girls with a cocktail shaker in his hand (because Fridays are ladies nights, so cocktails are on the menu) than with his guitar.

Of course, that was before Chrissy Cunningham started working with him. Okay, so she doesn’t exactly work with him but she’s in the goddamn bar, ain’t she? It doesn’t matter that she’s also, you know, on the bar. He wouldn’t let anyone actually touch her (and nor would the other girls, for that matter) but God what do they do to the cheerleaders in this town to make them so consistently hot? It’s clearly not the uniform (he’d been worried about that), so what? The natural rhythm she has, moving so that her skin lights up like she’s covered in scales, hipbones glowing beneath low riding shorts, and how (even covered in sweat with her hair dark and curling from it) beautifully alive she is with the music replacing the blood in her veins? He knows she feels that too. Music is a living thing that takes a person over; this he knows because he makes it. Eddie suspects Chrissy was born with it.

Anyway, the line he comes up with smacks him clear between the eyes - a chord progression, a bridge appearing from nowhere - just as the last stragglers are being shooed out of the door and Chrissy is drying her hair perched on a table. It’s beyond fucking genius, he just knows it. He’s about to pick her up with the smoothest shit that’ll ever leave his mouth and he’s extra fucking cocky about swaggering up to her with a towel over his shoulder and his arms crossed over his chest. He’s always grateful that his work clothes are flattering but tonight he’s seriously considering thanking a God he doesn’t really believe in for his luck. She looks up at him quizzically, then smiles a smile so big that actually he thinks his smoothness might have a little pulp in it after all. Shit. Fuck. It’s too late, he’s already opening his mouth, and what falls out of it is;

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.” What that fuck was that, Munson, you enormous fucking clowncar of a man? Smooth his fucking foot oh God he’s going to run his own head over with his van. The fuck is he talking about? What is this nonsense?

Why can’t Chrissy be as easy to talk to as the bimbos that come in here with their bachelorette parties?

“Wow.” But she’s laughing! That’s a good sign! It’s not even polite laughter - it’s a hideous little giggle that he immediately wants to find again, grin immediate on his mouth, watching the gaps between her teeth. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Normally I’m much better than this.”

“You realise that makes you sound like a womanising jerk, right?” Chrissy crosses one long bare leg over the other and brushes the rhinestones hanging against her collarbone over her shoulder, raises her eyebrows and puckers her mouth at him. Sweet baby Jesus. That’s not true, not really, not from his perspective but if this is a game and this is how she wants the rules to be then he can do that. He sits at the table and folds his arms on the top.

“Maybe you should make an honest man of me, Cunningham. What time do you get off?”

“Same time as you, obviously.”

“I have some kush back at my trailer, if you felt like joining me.” The smile on her face grows, and her eyes flick from his own to his mouth, and it doesn’t matter that the pick up line ended up being the most embarrassing thing he could ever say because she leans down over him and slots her fingers along the bone of his jaw. Now he knows how all the heroines feel when the hero finally catches up with them. It’s a very strange place to be. Worth it, though. Oh God, so worth it, because she parts her lips against his and her tongue is coated in sugar and cinnamon from shots of cherry sours and Big Red bubblegum. When she pulls back, that tongue lingers for a second between his teeth and with a shiver he starts to laugh. He can’t help it. “It’s pineapple. The kush.”

“Wow. I can’t believe I’m going home with you and you’re this much of an idiot.”

“Chrissy, what can I say? I’m a talented guy.”

[queer-coded-camaro-driver]

like weeds through cracked pavement

based on this post by @emsy-things

jealous Steve, getting together, first kiss, fluffy idiots

---

Steve doesn’t cut the engine after pulling into his usual parking spot outside Benny’s Diner. He’s not entirely sure that he wants to get out of the car now that he’s staring down the truth of his feelings: He’s a stupid, jealous idiot with a crush on his gym class rival. 

And he owes Robin five bucks since apparently, yes, he is also incredibly bisexual. 

Steve realizes that he’s bisexual (and in love with Billy Hargrove) because watching the flickering neon “OPEN” sign reflect off the golden strands in Billy’s caramel-blonde hair has his heart doing backflips. A massive migration of butterflies arrives in his stomach. 

His palms start sweating when Billy tosses back his head and laughs, throwing his long, taut throat into shadowy relief. 

Steve wants to mark up that empty space. He wants to rip Billy away from Eddie - even though he knows they’re just coworkers and casual friends - and drive far away from Hawkins, just the two of them.

Driving away is probably a great idea, actually, and he should get his ass in gear.

But before he can peel back onto the main road, Steve is betrayed by Eddie Munson. 

The older boy waves at him, beckoning for brunette to join him and Billy for what must be their post-shift smoke. Maybe it’s Eddie’s break, but Billy is definitely off the clock, otherwise he’d still be wearing his annoyingly cute apron and his hair would still be up in a bun.

Sighing heavily, Steve turns the keys and removes them from the dash. He hurriedly crams them into his jacket pocket as he crosses the small cracked lot to join his friends. “Hey guys.”

“Howdy, Harrington!” Eddie grins, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders as soon as he’s within range. “Long time, no see!”

“It’s been, what, twenty-four hours?”

“You guys hang out often?” Billy interrupts, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. Steve swallows thickly and shakes his head.

“Dungeons and Dragons,” he mutters. “I’m hosting the new campaign.”

“Right,” Billy nods. Steve watches the way the blonde's lips close around the filter of his cigarette and nearly goes cross-eyed with want. Smoke curls out of his mouth when the blonde asks, “Do you play, too, or just run herd on the children?”

“Herding, mostly. Eddie’s the one in charge.”

“Pffft, I’m calling bullshit, Harrington. They only listen to me when I’m rolling the dice,” Eddie argues. “You’re Mother Goose. I can’t get them to clean up their own spilled pop, but the second you snap your fingers those shitheads fall right in line. It’s like a lion tamer at the circus, Bills, you gotta see it sometime.”

Billy isn’t looking at Steve anymore. His sharp blue eyes are staring off into the middle distance, instead. “Maybe.”

“I gotta head back inside.” Eddie drops the butt of his bummed Marlboro to the ground and stomps it out with one booted foot. “Laters.”

“See ya,” Billy and Steve say in tandem. Once Eddie is back inside the diner, Billy silently pushes off the side of the building and heads for his car. Steve chases after him without thinking.

“Hey! Wait up!”

Billy doesn’t stop until Steve catches up and grabs him by the hand. 

Then he fucking freezes. 

Bolstered by some previously unknown sense of desperate bravery, Steve tangles his fingers with Billy Hargrove’s. 

This fist has bruised Steve’s face. These fingers have wrapped around a plate and smashed it over his head. This hand has done him harm.

And yet... It feels so warm and perfect and right when it’s clutched against his, Billy’s calloused thumb already rubbing wondering circles into the back of Steve’s knuckles. 

“Why?” 

That’s all Billy wants to know. And Steve has a million reasons sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for their chance to be heard. 

He starts with, “Because you’re sweet.” 

When this answer is met with awed silence and a wide, shocked gaze, he adds a few more.

“Because you’re protective of those you care about, because you have a good taste in music, because you’re smart and good at insulting me. Because-”

Billy cuts him off with a kiss. The blonde wraps one arm around Steve’s waist and the other around his upper back, pulling their chests flush together. Steve gasps and Billy takes the opportunity to gently slide his tongue along the brunette’s bottom lip. 

Steve fists his hands into Billy’s shirt and pulls back to rest their foreheads together. 

“How long?” Billy whispers. “How long have you known?”

“Just now,” Steve laughs just as quietly. This is their secret, and only theirs. “But I think you can love some one for a long time before you realize that’s what it is, right? I read that in a book somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Billy smiles. Not smirks, not sneers, smiles. For Steve. “I think you can.”

Steve smiles back and kisses him again.

[jadequeen88]

Line cook!Eddie headcanons dropping this afternoon. Tell all ya friends and fellow degenerates. 🫡🤘🏼👹