#would eddie know how to waltz?

[catlover4536]

Eddie Dear is the Drag icon we all needed and I ADORE it!

[edmunsonss]

JUST LOVE

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Summary: You've had a stressful day at work and can't wait for Eddie to help you forget it all

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral (m receving), excessive use of nicknames, use of the word slut once, not proofread.

A/N: It's been a hot minute since I last wrote smut so uh, I hope it's decent and yeah.

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When you waltz into the trailer on a rainy evening, you expect Eddie to be in his room, maybe practicing a new song or writing up some lyrics for the next show at the Hideout. However, your boyfriend is nowhere in sight. Part of you is relieved that he’s not around, but the other feels your heart plummet to your stomach in his absence. While you wish for nothing more than to fall into the comfort of his embrace, you don’t want him to worry upon seeing the tears that are falling down your cheeks.

As much as you have been trying to ignore it, all the frustration that has been building up in your chest has reached a point where you feel like it’s too much for you to take. Almost like a suffocating weight placed on top of you that won’t let you move anymore. You are worried about so much, and with an important job interview getting closer and closer, things don’t seem to be getting much easier.

You sigh and reach up to unzip your raincoat as you try to calmly breathe in and out to keep your tears in. You hang the coat on the rack that’s placed by the door and make your way into the cramped trailer bathroom, craving nothing more than a nice hot shower to ease the tension in your muscles.

Before you can get too far, you feel something brush up against your leg. You look down and your frown is quickly turned into a soft smile at the sight of your cat, Ziggy, lazily rubbing up against you in search of cuddles and attention. His soft purrs make you give in and scratch his head gently until he seems satisfied enough and runs back to the tiny pet bed placed by a plant, where he spends most of the day sprawled on his back.

Ziggy used to hang out by the trailer often, something you only took notice of after a few weeks of living with Eddie. You adopted him officially not long after—without having to try and convince Eddie because, let’s be honest, he wanted the cat just as much as you did… maybe more, though he’d never admit it—and he’s been yours ever since.

You resume your journey to the bathroom and start to take your clothes off once you get water running. It thankfully doesn’t take much to heat up and, before you know it, you’re enjoying the warm stream of water that’s running down your back.

You let every little piece of built up frustration out with sobs that have your whole body shaking. You sure feel ridiculous for crying over things that would seem so minuscule to anyone else, but you do it anyway because you’re hoping it’ll make you feel better about everything, it’s better than keeping it all in at least.

You spend longer than you should standing over the hot stream of water and no part of you wants to get out. Then you think of both Eddie and Wayne, and reluctantly get out of the shower because you don’t want them to have to shower with cold water—especially when you know just how much Eddie enjoys hot showers after a long day at work. You dress up in one of Eddie’s shirts and a pair of boxers. You certainly feel far better than when you’d walked in, but you know being wrapped up in Eddie’s arms will make you forget everything, at least for a little bit. 

When you walk into your shared room, you’re surprised to see Eddie already in bed, his frame covered by the sheets as he reads a book. His hair is messily gathered at the nape of his neck in the shape of a messy bun, with only his fringe and a few stray pieces of hair freely falling on his face. Both his shirt and jeans have been discarded and are now lying down on the floor. You almost roll your eyes at the sight, only that morning Wayne had scolded Eddie for leaving clothes on the couch, but it doesn’t seem like it had much of an effect on your sweet boyfriend. 

You stand against the doorframe, a smile painting itself on your face at the sight of him, nose buried inside his book. You’ve been dating for years, but that warm feeling in your stomach never seems to disappear despite seeing him everyday. You suspect he’ll make you swoon until the day you die, forever enamored by the nerdy rockstar that always treats you ever-so-gently. 

Eddie must feel your eyes on him because it isn’t long before he looks up and smiles. He leaves his book on the nightstand and reaches to push back the covers for you to slide into bed, which you gleefully do.

He shifts around a little to press a kiss to your lips, “Hey sweetheart. ‘M sorry for being late. I forgot I had to drop Henderson off.”

You only hum and let your head rest on the crook of his neck, eager to have him close and be comforted by his warm embrace. Eddie chuckles but doesn’t complain as he wraps his arm tighter around you. He slips his warm calloused hand under your shirt and starts to mindlessly draw shapes on your lower back. You trace the lines of the tattoo on his chest and let any other thought vanish until only a feeling of utter peace remains.You can feel the bump of the scars that litter his chest from that time you almost lost him to demonic bats. They’re covered by ink now, fully healed, but you still feel yourself get the slightest bit emotional at the memory of what happened that night.

Eddie notices the way your body tenses up all of a sudden, he gently cups your cheek with his unoccupied hand and tilts your head so you’re looking up at him. Your eyes focus on his face and you stare at him curiously, noticing his slight shift in attitude. His head is slightly tilted to the side and there’s a serious expression on his face that wasn’t there before. He wants to say something, but you can tell he’s hesitating. You encourage him with a nod. 

“Is everything alright? I could hear you crying in there.” You smile softly at the sweetness of his tone and move so you’re sat on his lap, driven by a desire to be even closer to him than you were before. One of your hands immediately goes to cup his face while the other remains on his chest. Eddie turns his head enough to kiss the palm of your hand and offers you a worried frown.

You jokingly pull the corner of his mouth up to try and make the pout on his lips go away, which you succeed in doing because a smile appears on his face as he swats your hand away.

“Stop distracting me,” He laughs.

“I’m not trying to, Eds,” You say at the same time as you poke him on the ribs, which makes him jump a little. Eddie laughs a little more, which makes you giggle in return. 

“I just… you know I worry about everything and my brain’s always going on and on about all the shit that can go wrong. With all of my work stuff and the job interview and everything there is to worry about, I’m going a bit crazy.”

You see the way his face falls again as he hears you talk, knowing there isn’t much he can do to relieve you of all the stress that has you crumbling, “I’d prefer not to talk much about it though, not right now anyway.”

“We can talk about whatever you want sweetheart,” He reassures and smiles teasingly at you as he grabs the hem of your shirt, his shirt, actually, “Like about how you’ve stolen my shirt. I asked if you’d seen it just this morning!”

You laugh sheepishly at the accusation. It isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last, that you steal one of his shirts,“Did not!”

Eddie tickles your sides and shakes his head, “Did too, you fuckin’ liar.”

He leans in a little bit more, just enough so that your noses are about to touch, “You can keep it though, it looks hot on you.” 

“Hmm, good, because it’s my favorite shirt of yours,” You admit, though you know it’s more than obvious with how often it disappears from his drawers.

He rolls his eyes at your words, “Yeah, couldn’t help but notice it.”

You press your forehead against his and close your eyes. Eddie wraps his arms around your waist and you feel him let out a long sigh. It’s more than obvious that you’ve both had a stressful day and being so close together brings an incomparable comfort that allows you to relax despite everything there is to worry about.

It has always been easy with Eddie, to just brush off any trouble. That is how you have both survived the years that have passed since everything with Vecna occurred. Looking back on everything, it almost feels ridiculous how you’re worrying over a job when a few years ago, when you were just eighteen, you were worrying over how your group of friends was going to save the world… and your dying boyfriend. Night and day difference, huh?  

You pull away and open your eyes. Your fingers brush over the curls that sit prettily on his forehead, “I’m sorry to say this, but seeing your hair like this makes me wanna do things to you.”

Eddie laughs loudly at your comment and the way you whisper it as if it actually were a secret. He laughs even more at your embarrassed expression, when you’ve said worse things that would put his dirty mouth to shame. You press your forehead against his chest now and join his quiet laughter, “I hope it’s good things.”

“Only the best of things, Eds,” You mumble against his chest as he brushes his fingers through your hair. He watches as your eyes light up when you look at him again and you can’t help but grin at his confused expression.

“I think I know a great way to make me feel better, actually,” You say and curl your finger around a loose strand of hair.

“And what would that be, princess?” He wonders, despite having a slight suspicion of what you’re about to ask. 

You toy with the waistband of his boxers and Eddie almost groans in anticipation of what’s to come. It isn’t a secret to either of you that there is nothing you love more in the world than sucking Eddie off after a stressful day at work. He, of course, always encourages you, who is he to complain after all?

Both of your hands now pinch the material. You wait for him to give you the okay before you slide the boxers down his legs and drop them somewhere on the floor, freeing his hardening cock. You slide off the bed and onto your knees beside it while Eddie watches you intently. His doe eyes never leave yours as you beckon for him to sit on the edge of the bed, which he scrambles to do instantly.

You spit on your hand before wrapping it around him and pumping slowly. He sighs at your touch, but it quickly turns into a moan when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and gently suck on it, tasting his salty precum on your tongue. You begin to bob your head up and down his length, while you guide his hands to your hair. 

You pull back for a brief second and look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I please touch myself?” 

Eddie nods and before he can say anything, he interrupts himself with a groan of pleasure as your lips wrap around his hard length once again. You let your hand travel past the waistband of your panties and you slowly rub your clit, basking in the pleasure of having your mouth full of him.

“You’re beautiful, sweetheart, so pretty on your knees for me.” Eddie murmurs through parted lips, his delicate words a sharp contrast in comparison to his actions. His grip on a handful of your hair tightens and he pushes your head further down his length, “But, fuck, you look even better with my cock in your mouth.” 

You can’t help but moan at his words, which only motivate you into taking him deeper down your throat. Despite how messy the whole thing is, you can tell Eddie is enjoying it as much as you are by the sounds of pleasure he often lets out. You feel tears slide down your cheeks every time his cock touches the back of your throat, but any thought of discomfort is drowned out by the satisfaction that hearing his moans brings you.

“Fucking hell, princess. Who knew my good girl was such a slut? Love having your mouth full, huh?” Eddie wipes the tears off your cheeks as he watches you, kneeling before him, completely at his mercy. The sight of you fucking yourself on your fingers only brings him closer to the edge. He loves to know you enjoy this as much as he does.

You pull off him to catch your breath for a few seconds and he, with his feather-like touch, massages your jaw, knowing perfectly well how sore it can get. But it isn’t long until your mouth is back on him, determined to get him to come.

He does so not long after and you swallow it all, happy you’ve achieved your mission.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters, still breathless, “Feel better now, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” 

[corroded-hellfire]

hello!! i have seen so many eddie x fem reader but never a chubby fem reader so? can u do one and plz take as much time

(can it also be smut???)

- suki

This honestly felt cathartic to write. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy 🩵

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral, f!receiving, body image issues

Words: 4.5k

"Ugh, it’s so cheesy.”

Eddie groans and drops his head back against the couch dramatically. You scoff as you watch him out of the corner of your eye, wanting to keep most of your attention on the flickering television screen in front of you. The end of An Officer and a Gentleman plays, where Richard Gere picks up Debra Winger and carries her off bridal style.

“I think it’s romantic,” you say, lazily flicking your hand at your boyfriend’s chest. 

His dark eyebrows raise up to meet his bangs as he kicks his socked feet up on the cluttered coffee table. 

“Really?” he asks. “So, you’re saying you want me to just scoop you up like that and carry you?”

The snort that comes out of you isn’t intentional, but Eddie’s words force it to come out. 

“Hell no,” you tell him. “You’d break your back.”

Eddie’s previously raised eyebrows furrow as he stares at you. His spine straightens and he crosses his arms across his chest, offense leaking into his posture. 

“What do you mean?”

Surely, he must be joking, you think. But the way his gaze is focused on you makes you realize he’s serious.

“Eddie.” You brandish your hand towards your larger body before gesturing to his own svelte frame. 

Unsure how to feel about your insinuation, Eddie shifts in his seat to face you better. He eyes your body, something that always makes you feel a little self-conscious even if it’s in an admiring fashion.

“You think I can’t carry you?” he asks.

“Not without blowing out your back.” 

That has Eddie pushing himself up off the couch and rubbing his hands together. He nods to you as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“Let me try,” he says.

“No.” You don’t move an inch. 

Eddie’s shoulders slump, reminding you of a deflating beach ball as he begins to pout.

“Babe,” he whines. “Come on.” 

“No, Eddie,” you reply, tone more definitive this time. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” He waves off your concern as if it’s the last thing on his mind. But you’re aware that it’s very real and know it would only make you feel more uncomfortable in your own skin if your weight hurt your boyfriend. 

“Just drop it,” you try. 

As persistent and stubborn as Eddie is about something once it’s entered his mind, he can see your demeanor changing bit by bit, moving closer to upset. It doesn’t mean he’s going to let it go entirely, though. He’ll let you think he’s forgotten about it for now, just continuing on with the nice evening you’re having. But there’s already an idea turning the gears in the back of Eddie’s mind. 

The next week, you waltz into the Munson’s trailer–having learned long ago that you can just let yourself in–and your brow furrows as you slip off your shoes. Eddie is standing between the couch and the television, doing arm curls with a pair of smaller but heavy-looking weights. Not once have you seen Eddie lifting weights before, so you’re confused, unsure of what’s going on. 

Eddie’s eyes glance over to you, away from the rerun of Who’s the Boss playing on the television and gives you a smile.

“Hey, baby,” he says as naturally as always. “Be done in a minute.”

You finally find your voice as you track his arms moving up and down. “What’re you doing?”

“Knitting a sweater,” he answers without missing a beat. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You roll your eyes even though he isn’t looking your way and plop down on the couch behind him.

Eddie lets out a small, breathy laugh and turns his head to the side so you know he’s talking to you.

“What’s it look like? I’m lifting weights.”

“But why?” you ask, tucking your legs up beneath you.

When Eddie turns face forward again, you catch a glimpse of his smirk in the reflection on the TV.

“So you’ll have no more excuses about why I shouldn’t pick you up,” he says. 

Letting out a dramatic groan to rival one of Eddie’s own, you flop down on your side and bury your face into one of the couch cushions. Irritated, you pick your head up and glare at the back of your boyfriend’s head.

“This again?” you ask.

“I’m gonna sweep you off your feet,” he says as he begins his last set. “Wait and see.”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin whines, leaning back in his seat. He swipes at one of the D20s on the table out of frustration. “Where the hell is he? Eddie’s never been late for a campaign in his life.”

“Are you sure your boyfriend didn’t mention anything about being late?” Mike snaps at you from the opposite side of the table.

“For the third time, Michael,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, “no.”

Jeff opens his mouth to say something, but the drama room door bangs open to reveal their Dungeon Master, his soaking wet hair turning the white portion of the Hellfire shirt see-through. There’s a beat of silence as everyone takes in his appearance. Leave it to Dustin to break the seal.

“Where the hell were you?”

“Is it raining out?” Lucas asks no one in particular, eyes trailing Eddie’s weighed-down curls.

He doesn’t receive a response as Eddie saunters into the room, acting as if he didn’t just break one of his own most important rules. Your boyfriend throws a wink your way and presses a kiss to the top of your head as he passes by you to get to his throne. Once he’s plopped down in the seat and made himself comfortable, he takes in all the eyes staring at him from around the table.

“I was in the gym. Weight room, more specifically,” Eddie says, as if they should have known this all along. 

“Like…where the athletes train?” Gareth asks, nose wrinkling up in confusion. You can taste Eddie’s snarky reply in the air before he even parts his lips.

“Congratulations on knowing what the weight room is, Gareth the Great.”

When Eddie’s eyes don’t meet yours, you wonder if he’s avoiding your gaze or not. He has to know that the fact that he was lifting weights again would grate on your nerves. Either he’s oblivious–which is entirely possible–or he’s being smart and not meeting your glare. Eddie is quiet for a moment, which is so unlike him that you’re wondering if maybe he’s waiting for you to say something. If that’s what he wants he’ll be sorely disappointed though because you’re biting your tongue for now. Even though he’ll definitely hear about it later when there are no witnesses around. 

“All right,” Eddie finally says, clapping his ringed hands together. “Shall we get started?”

Whenever you want to vent about Eddie or something he did, you never have a shortage of friends to go to. Most are glad to lend an ear and a few even look forward to hearing what crazy thing he did this time. But when it comes to how you’re currently feeling in regards to your boyfriend, none of your friends could truly understand because they’re all, well…thin. They might be sympathetic to your situation or even relate in some different way, but none of them would wholly understand because they’ve never been viewed in the same light that you are by society. It’s not their fault they don’t understand, it’s just how it is. 

Unfortunately, you’re not as good at keeping your emotions hidden as you thought you were. It’s only a few days before Nancy corners you at your locker.

“Are you okay?” she asks, narrowing her usually wide eyes at you. 

“Fine,” you say with as much forced enthusiasm as possible while you dig around the locker for your biology textbook. 

“For argument's sake, let’s say I believe you,” Nancy says. “Why have you been so quiet lately, then? You seem distracted, like your mind is somewhere else.”

“It’s stupid,” you say to her as you find the book you were searching for.

“Hey,” Nancy says, voice taking on a more serious tone, “no it’s not. Whatever is bothering you, you can tell me.”

You’ve known Nancy long enough to know she’s truly trying to help you and is determined to find out what’s wrong. You also know that if you tell her that you’re not ready to talk about it, she’ll drop it and respect your wishes. But you have been itching to talk to someone about everything that’s been going on, and the opportunity presented itself to you on a silver platter. 

“After school?” you ask softly. 

Nancy nods. “I’m putting the finishing touches on a story for the paper. I’ll be in there alone.”

When the bell rings signaling the end of school you find her right where she said she’d be. Bent over a few papers, shuffling them back and forth and inspecting them with a small furrow to her brow. As soon as she sees you, though, she moves her work to the side and gives you her undivided attention.

“What’s up?” she asks. 

Trying to buy every second you have before you open your mouth and start to explain your predicament, you make yourself comfortable on the stool across from your friend and situate your bag between your feet on the floor. There’s no more stalling, you realize, as you continue to shift in your seat though. Deep down you know Nancy will be sympathetic and would never intentionally steer you wrong, it’s just the fact that she won’t get it that’s keeping you from spilling your guts. 

“I’m not interviewing you, you know,” Nancy says, the ghost of a smile dancing on her lips. “You can start whenever.”

“Eddie keeps saying he wants to lift me up.”

The admission just tumbles from your mouth, no preamble, no build-up, just straight to the problem that’s been lying heavy on your heart. 

“Okay…” Nancy drags out the word and she leans in towards you. Clearly, she was expecting more to the story than this. 

“And I told him that he’ll hurt himself and now he’s working out and lifting all these weights to prove that he’s strong enough for it.” For someone who wasn’t sure if they wanted to talk about this to begin with, you’re now word vomiting everywhere. Between the speed of your words and the way they seem to come out before being processed in your mind, you’re strangely reminded of how it is to talk with Robin when she’s flustered over something. The thought has you biting back a smile; maybe now you’d give Robin less grief about talking so fast. 

“Why don’t you just let him try then?” Nancy asks.

An internal scream sounds in your head at her question. Of course she doesn’t understand what the big deal is. It’s not her fault, but you also know there are no words you could use to explain it to her to convey how you feel deep down about it. It’s something you either know from experience or not. 

“You’ve seen the two of us together,” you finally respond, voice measured and quiet. “He’s so slender and has some lean muscle, but not enough to lift my fat ass.”

It’s obvious from the way Nancy does her cute little pout that she doesn’t like your comment.

“You are–”

Here it comes, you think. She’s going to say how pretty I am, even though I didn’t say I was ugly–just fat. 

“–stressing yourself out by thinking about this too much. Let Eddie lift his weights. If you still don’t want him to pick you up, tell him. You know he respects your boundaries.”

It’s not what you expected her to say at all, and you admonish yourself for thinking Nancy would be anything less than logical about this. And her logic is sound. You know she’s right, but the emotional part of your brain still isn’t completely satisfied.  

On your way out of the school after talking with Nancy, you pass the weight room and hear someone inside. You peek in the small window cut into the door and spot your boyfriend’s mass of messy curls. He has a barbell over his hips, thrusting them up and down. The sight alone has your knees feeling weak. The motion of Eddie’s hips has you hypnotized for a few moments before you decide to go in.

Eddie isn’t facing the door and he’s wearing headphones, so he doesn’t hear you as you slip in and close the door behind you. Now you can hear the soft grunts that leave his lips with every thrust, and it has you biting down on your lower lip. When you take a step closer, you can hear the music Eddie’s listening to, the song pounding out past the headphones. Even though Eddie doesn’t know you’re there it’s almost as if he’s trying to seduce you. The hips, the grunts, now he’s listening to Burnin’ Up by Judas Priest? That’s the most often played song while the two of you are having sex. 

Deciding it’s fine if you’re perving a bit on your own boyfriend, you watch him while he does a few more reps. As he begins to slow down and finish up, you move to take a seat on the piece of equipment next to him. Eddie grins when he notices you sitting there and tugs the headphones down so they’re hanging around his neck.

“Hey, baby,” he says. “I’d hug you but I’m all sweaty.”

“It’s sexy.”

Eddie laughs at the blunt way you say it. 

“Really?” he asks.

You nod your head and Eddie takes it as an invitation to come over and sit next to you. He wraps you up in his sweaty arms, teasingly wiping his forehead against the shoulder of your shirt. It makes you laugh and you wrap your arms around his damp middle. The black material of his Ozzy shirt is sticking to his skin–and now yours too.

“Gonna go take a shower,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your temple. “Then we’ll go get some food, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect.”

The next week you’re over at Eddie’s house, on your back with Eddie on top of you as you make out. There’s a long-forgotten shitty horror movie playing in the background, but the cheesy, shrill screams of the victims don’t even register to either of you. 

Rough calloused hands slide down your shirt, moving from your breasts to the hem of your tee, where it’s riding up. Eddie’s skin on yours has you arching your back as his hands travel upwards again. It’s clear that he wants your shirt off and who are you to deny him?

“Bedroom,” you mumble as you break apart just long enough for you to yank your shirt off. Eddie takes advantage of your quick preoccupation with your clothing to scoop you up in his arms, bridal style. “Eddie!” you squeak.

He just chuckles and squeezes you tighter against his body. 

“Maybe now you’ll let me throw you around when I have to punish you for being a bad girl,” he says, a cocky smirk quirking his kiss-bruised lips. 

“A-Are you okay?” you ask, arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. “You won’t offend me if you have to put me down.” You’re very aware of his lithe body and how it’s supporting your larger one. This has to be hurting him–right?

“Babe.” Eddie chuckles again and shakes his head. “I’ve been lifting weights that weigh at least double what you do. It feels like I’m holding a feather right now.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you try to determine if he’s lying or not. But the way he holds steady, not seeming to strain or struggle with you in his arms calms your worries. Eddie heads down the hall and carries you into his room and tosses you down on his bed. You land with a bounce and a giggle as he climbs up on top of you. 

His lips attach to your neck as his fingers reach down and fiddle with the button of your jeans. Once it’s popped open and he drags the zipper down, Eddie starts to kiss his way down your body, making sure to press his lips against every part of you that he can. Your chest, your tummy, your hips. When he gets to your jeans, Eddie slides himself off the bed to kneel before you. He makes quick work of getting your pants off and lets out a sinful groan when he sees the wet patch forming on your pale green cotton panties. It encourages Eddie to move even faster as he yanks your underwear off so quickly that you blink and you miss it. 

Eddie dives right in, wasting no time to run his long, talented tongue through your folds. You grip the off-white sheets below you in your fists at his ministrations. The laugh that rumbles through Eddie at your drawn-out groan sends vibrations up your body, only adding to the pleasure. Strong hands wrap around your thighs and pull you even further down the bed so Eddie can get better access to your pussy. His tongue repeatedly flicks over your clit and your eyes practically roll back in your head. Your boyfriend knows exactly how to work you up and bring you to the brink of–

“Hey,” you pout when Eddie pulls back and sits on his heels. “Fuck, Eddie, I was close.”

“I know, angel.” His words are soft and kind despite the mischievous glint in his eye. “But there’s something I need you to do first.”

“What?”

Eddie climbs on the bed and crawls up towards his pillows. He plops flat on his back as he says, “Sit on my face.”

“Eddie,” you say with a breathless laugh. “I’ll crush you.”

“Then I go out doing what I love,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I always told you that you’d be the death of me.” Eddie looks over you with those brown doe eyes and you feel the resolve melting away in your chest. “But seriously, please come here. I already miss how you taste.”

Lifting you was one thing, but this seems like something he couldn’t prepare for by going to the gym. The sincere, pleading look in his eyes tells you that he really wants this, though.

“Are you sure?” you double-check.

“God, yes, please.”

Hesitantly, you shuffle up closer to him and lift yourself up to straddle his face. Bracing your hands on Eddie’s headboard, you still can’t bring yourself to lower your body. Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something to Eddie, your boyfriend wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you flush down against his mouth. 

“Fuck,” you groan. You can practically feel Eddie grinning against your dripping pussy as he gets back to work. After a few moments of making sure Eddie isn’t suffocating below you, you start to relax into it and are able to enjoy the sensations of his tongue leisurely licking up and down your heat. A particularly hard lick to your hole has you letting out a gasp and clutching onto the wooden bedframe hard enough to snap it in half.

“Shit, Eddie. A-Almost there.”

He hums in acknowledgment, even though you didn’t need to tell him. Your body was something Eddie was a quick study in; it didn’t take him long to learn all the little quirks and tells your body gives him when you’re getting close to orgasm. 

“Fuck,” you moan between pants as your breaths become shallower. Sweat slicks your skin as you hurdle towards your peak, body a live wire as Eddie works your body just as flawlessly as he does his guitar. “I-I’m coming, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming.”

Eddie tightens his grip on your thighs as your hips rock against his face. His nose brushes against your clit and it shoots a spark through your body, only heightening your pleasure. 

As the high wears off, you feel boneless and collapse down on the bed next to Eddie. He huffs a breath of laughter and raises himself up on an elbow to watch you recover. Satisfied smirk on his face, Eddie wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. He only gives you a moment longer to catch your breath before he gives you a smack on the ass.

“Hands and knees, baby,” he says. 

Energy not fully recuperated yet, you give him a nod but otherwise don’t move. Eddie’s not having that, though. A strong arm wraps around your waist and yanks you up, causing you to yelp in surprise. As you settle onto your hands and knees like you were told, you peek over your shoulder to see a cocky smirk adorning your boyfriend’s face. He ghosts a feather-light hand up your spine as he leans in to murmur in your ear.

“Told you I’d manhandle you if I needed to.”

There’s hardly enough time for your brain to process his words before he’s yanking your hips backward towards him. The sudden motion has your arms giving out and you drop face-first into his pillow, filling your senses with the citrus-scented shampoo he uses. The husky chuckle that comes from above you lets you know that this is the exact position he wanted you in any way. You let your eyes flutter closed as you revel in the sensation of him dragging his cock up and down your soaked folds. It’s meant to be teasing you–and it is–but you’d be lying if you said the motions didn’t feel amazing.

Eventually, Eddie can’t take his own teasing anymore–he’s so damn hard in his hand now. He lets his cock drag against your clit one last time before he pushes himself into you. A moan gets muffled into Eddie’s pillow as your fingers involuntarily claw at his sheets. If you were facing him, you know you’d see him smirking. The bed begins to squeak as Eddie moves his hips, his own groans tumbling out as he slides further into you with each thrust until he’s finally bottoming out.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans, head falling forward. His hands grip the soft plush skin of your hips hard enough to leave fingerprint-sized marks. You turn your head to keep from suffocating against the pillow, but you know you’d willingly starve yourself of oxygen if it meant Eddie would keep pounding into you like this. “Shit, baby. I’ll never get over how tight you are. God damn, I love your body so fucking much.”

The only response you can manage is a groan, thoughts fleeing from your head with every snap of his hips against yours. His pace begins to pick up and you know he’s getting closer to the edge. But suddenly he pulls completely out of you, leaving you achingly empty. The loss makes you whine as you look over your shoulder at your boyfriend. Words still haven’t come back into your brain yet, so you just questioningly grunt at him, which makes him laugh.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he says. Your eyes track him as he shuffles up the bed until he’s sitting with his back against his headboard. He pats his thigh and winks at you. “Get over here.”

He doesn’t need to ask you twice. Throwing your left leg over his lap, you whimper as you lower yourself slowly onto his angry and leaking cock. The moment you’ve seated yourself on him, he thrusts his hips up into you, causing you to gasp and clutch onto his pale, freckled shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Fuck!” you cry. “Yes, Eddie!”

The smirk that graces Eddie’s beautiful features is so self-satisfied. Normally, you’d come up with a witty quip or bratty action to wipe that look off his face, but the pleasure coursing through your veins leaves you incapable of coherent thought. 

Eddie wraps an arm around your waist and starts bucking his hips wildly up into yours. 

“Shit,” you all but scream as you drop your forehead down to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. “God, Eddie.”

“Think my lifting paid off now, baby?” Eddie asks, smugness dripping in his tone. He chuckles and presses a kiss to your collarbone as you nod and bury your face into his neck.

“Yes,” you mumble against his skin before pulling back so he can understand you. “Yes, shit, your hips are magical.”

A chuckle rumbles through Eddie’s body and he tightens his grip around your waist, holding your body flush up against his. As you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax, your fingernails dig into the delicate skin on Eddie’s back.

“You’re so fucking sexy, baby,” Eddie says. When you don’t acknowledge his statement, he tugs on your hair and forces you to look him in the eye. “Jesus Christ, I love your curves. Every single inch of your body. It’s fucking mine. So perfect, holy shit. How’d I get so lucky?”

“All yours,” you confirm, nodding as much as you can with his hand in your hair. “My body is all yours. Every curve, every i-inch. Fuck, I’m close, Eddie.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” Eddie says between labored breaths. “Come with me.”

“O-Okay,” you stutter out in a whisper.

Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure washes over you as you cling to your boyfriend. The way your walls clench around Eddie’s cock has him coming immediately after you, his hair tickling the skin of your cheek as he drops his head forward to rest against your body. 

“Baby, yes,” Eddie moans as he spills inside of you, hips rutting against yours as he fucks his spend into you. 

When he’s finished, Eddie lifts his head up before dropping it back against his headboard. A satisfied smile is on his lips as he looks at you, rosy cheeks and coated in a sheen of sweat as he tries to catch his breath. Your body collapses against his, breathing just as heavily, and Eddie wastes no time in wrapping both of his arms around you. It’s quiet as the two of you bask in the feelings, both physical and emotional. Eventually, Eddie turns his head and presses a kiss into your hair.

“I love you, baby girl.”

“I love you too, handsome.”

“So,” he starts, dotting soft kisses down the length of your neck, “you gonna let me pick you up now?”

It’s not something you even need to think about. “You can do whatever you want if you fuck me like that again.”

The laugh that Eddie lets out has you smiling against his skin. He brings his hand up and lightly trails his fingers up and down your spine. 

“Glad to hear that,” he says. “I think next I want to try lifting you over my shoulder. You know, like firemen do. How’s that sound?”

The question makes you lift your head up to look your boyfriend in the eye. 

“Only if you wear the uniform, too.”

[carolmunson]

because you were home.

the first entry of my fall frenzy extravaganza

this request comes in from @sweetsweetjellybean: "i would like to request watching a scary movie with steve and eddie that ends with 2 dicks one hole." summary: mildly inspired by 'the strangers' movie. steddie x reader. you and your two boyfriends watch a scary movie even though you hate them. a scary dream wakes you up to more than you bargained for, but they're happy to make up for it. (aka, carol tries some subtle horror/suspense writing for the first time ever!) cw: 18+, established throuple, dvp (double vaginal penetration), oral (f and m receiving), mmf threesome, pet names: angel, babydoll, sweetheart, etc., reader refers to eddie and steve as daddy/sir once or twice but its not like -- their dynamic -- not a dom/sub scenario (justice for steve being sir for once!), swearing, mild horror elements

“Ooh, shiii-hi-hit. Fuck that.” “What’s happening?” you ask, your voice muffled by Steve’s shoulder where your face had been planted for the last four minutes. “No matter how many scary movies I see, nothing creeps me out like this scene, man,” Eddie shakes his head, another handful of popcorn crunching into his mouth.  “What. Is. Happening?” you ask again, frustrated at your own inability to just look – but you didn’t wanna miss out on the scare-factor.

“Nothing, baby,” Steve chuckles, warm and sweet. His big hand gives your bicep a comforting squeeze, running his palm slowly over the skin before he pulls you closer, “One of the weirdos is just standing there, nothing’s happening.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say nothing’s happening – it’s one of the most quietly suspenseful and unsettling scenes in modern horror,” Eddie argues while your head pops up. As soon as your eyes meet his, shining from the light of the TV in the living room, he grins – the one he always does when he’s about to be an asshole.

“Let me rewind it for you,” his smirk lingers when he reaches for the remote, “You can’t miss it – it’s like, niche horror iconography.”

“C’mon Ed, you know she doesn’t like it,” Steve’s defense almost feels patronizing, sinking in your chest even while his arm tightens around you, “She never wants to do movie night when it’s scary.” 

“C’mon Ed, you know she doesn’t like it,” Steve’s defense almost feels patronizing, sinking in your chest even while his arm tightens around you, “She never wants to do movie night when it’s scary.” “No, it’s fine – I’ll just, I’ll watch it,” you sigh, eyes reaching the ceiling with a faux annoyed huff, “For the iconography.” “Atta girl,” Eddie rewinds while you climb over Steve to get between them. If the room hadn’t been so dark, you’d see Ed’s flush while you make yourself comfortable. Always a sucker for affection, he leans in close, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Bein’ so brave.” He starts the scene over again, a few minutes before, both of them scooching in next to you. You’re used to the heat now, the warmth of them near you, tied up between them. At first it was hard to balance it – who touches where, who holds what – but having them both became a waltz you danced well. The both of them easily knowing the rhythms of you and each other in healthy and decadent symbiosis.  “Will you just – stay on the phone with me?” Liv Tyler’s voice booms through Steve’s surround sound, the dial tone humming loudly afterwards, “James? … James?” You let a breath out through your nose, watching her walk through the house on the screen, settling on lighting a cigarette before walking into the kitchen. She stands there for a moment before the screen cuts to a wide, you already feel sick. There’s no music, no sound, just Liv in the kitchen with darkness back behind her. With no warning, he appears, the man in the mask, in complete silence. 

Your stomach drops, throat feeling tight when you watch him stand there watching her. You hardly feel soothed when he disappears, knowing it can only get worse from here. The killers are in the house. 

Steve and Eddie see your face, the way your brows pull in, the way you shrink in on yourself. “Poor baby,” Steve soothes rubbing his hand on your back, “C’mere, I’ll protect you.” “You couldn’t outsmart these guys,” Eddie’s matter-of-fact tone makes Steve tense up, “Sorry. They’re in it for the thrill, man. They don’t care about your macho shit.” “That’s not reassuring,” you laugh, snuggling into Steve while Eddie lets his hand smooth over your thigh, “I need you both to protect me.” “Of course,” Eddie smiles, “We’d both keep you safe, for sure.” “For sure,” Steve nods, kissing the top of your head. Your hand creeps forward to lace your fingers with Eddie’s, still resting on your leg while the movie continues. 

“James?” Liv says again on screen, heading to the drawer for a kitchen knife when a bang is heard somewhere off screen. You can’t help it, your face buries itself in Steve’s shoulder when the action picks up, doing your best to be brave and failing miserably. It’s not for nothing, your failure – they both have a great time laughing at you. 

You’re pouty when the movie is over,  the kisses aren’t helping for the first time in a while. There’s a general unease in your stomach – some horror was fine, but horror that could happen just didn’t compartmentalize as well. Your stomach sinks more when you see Eddie put his jacket on. “You’re not staying over with us?” you ask. Eddie’s shoulders sink while he shrugs on the leather, “Sorry baby, I have an early shift tomorrow. Gotta sleep at mine to be close to the garage. Why, you scared?” You nod, “Is that stupid?” “No,” he grins, “But you have Steve, he can protect you, too.” “You literally said he couldn’t outsmart them,” you try to laugh but it sounds more like a desperate plea, heart rate rising. “It’s a movie, honey,” Steve’s balmy voice soothing you while he comes back in the living room from cleaning up, “Just relax.” “You want the number one tension goblin to relax?” Eddie scoffs, “Good luck with that.” A kiss to both of your cheeks is Eddie’s last parting gift to you and Steve before he goes, the rev of his motorcycle being the only signal that he’s gone for the night. Steve’ burly tan arm wraps around your shoulder to lead you both back to the couch. “How about this,” he starts, pulling your legs over his lap, “We can watch something funny and then go to bed, s’that sound good for you?” You nod eagerly, shoulders loosening up while he flicks through the channel listings. “They have Austin Powers on TBS, you wanna watch that? It looks like they’re playing all of ‘em,” his amber eyes fall on you with a smile, rubbing your shin up to your knee. He changes the channel when you give him the okay, watching you snuggle in on the couch with tired eyes. It’s not long into the first movie that Steve’s nudging you to wake up so you can both go upstairs to bed. 

You wake from a dream that makes your heart race in the bad way, losing the plot completely when your eyes open. The room is dark, only some light from Steve’s security cameras outside leaving shadows against the wall from the curtains.You turn and reach your arm out to shake Steve awake but you’re met with nothing but empty sheets, cooled down from the lack of a body there to warm them. You pout while your heart pounds, taking a few deep breaths to try to steady yourself to go back to sleep. He’s probably in the bathroom – but that thought makes you have to pee. With a sigh you get up, gingerly getting out of bed and scanning the room. Even though you fell asleep laughing to Mike Meyers the uneasy feeling in your chest never quite shook away. You pad down the hall to the bathroom, confused when you see that it’s empty. Maybe he went to get a drink or something in the kitchen. You do your business, leaving the bathroom and listening for Steve downstairs from the top of the staircase, peering down into the dark living room. It’s quiet. “Steve?” you call out. 

Nothing. 

The blue black of the dark house stares back at you, you swallow thickly. The pin pricks of fear that you woke up with creep down your neck and the top of your back, they sting up from the balls of your feet. You try to muster up the courage to call out again. “St-steve? You there?” you call out, your voice weak. 

Nothing. 

You take another breath, shakier than before. Maybe he’s using the half bath down stairs. You shake your head, rolling your shoulders and taking a step away from the staircase to go back to bed. Two steps in and your body is jolted by the blast of the stereo in the living room, the lights from the machine whirring on while music blares through the speakers. ‘My first lover, My first lover, He was tall and breezy with his long hair down. But it gets a little hazy when I think of it now…’

You run down the stairs to shut it off, certain the neighbors heard it, Your heart hammers in your chest, blood pounding in your ears while you slam the buttons and hold your hands to the cool machinery. You feel sick, bile creeping up your throat while you breathe in and out again.

“STEVE?!” you shout out, tears welling in your eyes, “Steve! This – this isn’t funny…”

But again.

With the music off.

Nothing. 

You grab a heavy trophy from one of the shelves, a nationals first place from when Steve won the freestyle stroke in college – no one’s ever beat his PR. You inch through the living room, clicking on a lamp so the room illuminates in a hazy yellow glow. You grip the trophy, base upwards with the points of it at your eye level, arm at the ready. You creep slowly through the kitchen, clicking on the light over the oven, peering into the living room again and over your shoulder. No one. Nothing. You walk forward into the dining room, turning on the light, peering out from the sliding doors to the back yard. Nothing. You take a final breath. It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s just a movie. 

Right?

CLANG!  

You jump, attention toward the door to the garage in the back of the dining room. You raise the trophy again, mustering up the courage to go to the door. Through the small crack in the bottom you see the lights are on, you swallow again. With a final breath through the nose you clutch the door handle, wrenching it open – ready to swing. 

“Woah there, champ,” Steve laughs, looking up from the side of his truck. He pulls off his over ear headphones and cocks his head, “Is that my swim trophy?” “Uh, yeah…” you respond sheepishly, lowering it down to your thigh. Your heart starts to steady, cheeks burning with embarrassed heat while he comes around from behind his truck. “Did I wake you up, honey? I’m sorry,” he says softly, wiping his hands off on a rag. He’s in his sleep shirt but back in his jeans, sneakers unlaced on his feet.

“No I –” you falter, feeling stupid and silly, “I had a bad dream and you weren’t there so like – I don’t know. Then the stereo turned on downstairs and I heard a bang so – why’re you in the garage?”  “I forgot about my break pads – they’re swamped at the shop so I told Ed not to worry and I’d just do it myself,” he shrugs with a laugh, “Little harder than it looks but – can’t put her back on the road until she’s all set. Woke up in a cold sweat about it.” 

“You um, didn’t hear me calling you?” you ask warily. “Had my headphones on, baby, my bad.” “And the stereo?” you urge, “It was like…really fucking loud.” “That was probably me by accident,” he assures, taking a tiny remote out of his back pocket, “I got the remote for the speakers in here too, so, must’ve sat on it. Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to.” “Just a lil’,” your shoulders droop, heat pricking your cheeks and chest. “Aw, I’m sorry,” he coos, coming toward you to put a sloppy kiss on your cheek, “I’m almost done, I’ll be back upstairs in a minute. Would you get me some water?” “Okay,” you chirp, taking a big breath before heading back into the house. You pad through the dining room and back into the kitchen, reaching over the sink to grab a glass from the cabinet. You let the cool water run over your fingers for a moment, chuckling at yourself for being so stupid while you place the trophy on the counter with a thud. 

You fill the glass for yourself first, letting the chill of the water bring you back to center. You take a few sips, leaning against the counter and looking through the archways to the other rooms – sleepy looking with their warm low lights on. You always forget how cozy Steve’s house looks, especially in the fall. You snort, hearing Steve’s soft ‘Shit! Come on!’ from the garage after something else clangs to the ground. You down the rest of the water and turn again to refill it for Steve, humming the song from the stereo. You shut off the water when you feel like someone is watching you, unease brewing in your chest again. You turn around quickly, but no one is there, just the sound of Steve working in the background. Back to the sink you finish filling up the glass, looking up at the window above the counter. Your reflection looks back. You drop the glass, hitting the stainless steel with a shattering fall. Behind you, in the dark of the dining room, is exactly what you’d feared you’d see. Standing there. Idle. Watching you. A man in a mask.  You freeze, sharp breaths puffing out of your nose, heart rattling in your chest. You shut your eyes tight and count to three, opening them again only to let out a blood curdling shriek at the reflection – he’s still there, just closer. You grab the trophy and turn around with abandon while Steve bursts in through the side door. “What’s happening, what’s going on?!” he asks, running in. “There’s – there’s there’s, there’s someone in the – in the house – in the house!” You gasp out in stuttering breaths, tears pouring down your face. “Who?! Whose in the house?!” he asks, brows raised, frazzled. “A man!” you screech, “The man! The man in the mask!” “Fuck, fuck,” Steve huffs, rifling into the drawer for a kitchen knife, “Stay here – stay right here and call the police.” You watch him walk toward the living room, “Steve don’t! Don’t! We have to g-get out!” “Baby – just call. The. Pol–” 

“My first lover, My first lover, He was always talking tryin to bring me down, But I was not waiting for a white wedding gown...”

The music blares again, so loud it’s disorienting. You scream, eyes blurry with tears while you walk backward to the corner of the kitchen by the fridge where a house phone sits on the wall. Shaking you reach for it, watching as it clatters clumsily to the floor. “Are you calling?!” Steve asks, fear lacing his own voice while he slams the stereo off, “What the fuck is happening?!” “I’m c-calling!” you yell back, seeing him come back into the kitchen with his chest heaving. You reach down for the phone only to realize, to your horror, that the cord is cut, “I – baby I…” “Shit,” Steve huffs, “M-my phone, where’s my cell?” “Upstairs I – oh my fucking god,” you freeze, eyes big and glassy when you see him, the man in the mask. “Wh-what?” Steve asks, slowly turning around, “Oh fuck, fuck. L-look man, hey – I – I don’t want any trouble.” The man stands there, masked head tilting when he takes a step forward. “D-do you want money? Something? My car? Anything man – I swear.” The slow step becomes a full steam ahead, another screech pouring out of you while you see his gloved hand reach for Steve. You cover your head in your hands, shaking, wondering how you can make it from here to the garage unscathed – you brace for Steve’s broken scream. 

But instead. A laugh. Two. Two laughs. Two very familiar laughs. “Why would I want your car when you can’t even fix the fuckin’ break pads?” Eddie’s muffled voice echos from behind the mask. He pulls it off, taking a breath, “Fuck, that things hot.” “I fixed them just fine,” Steve hisses in faux annoyance. “H-huh?” you look up with tear streaked cheeks, “Wh-what is this?” “Oh honey, we didn’t mean to scare you that bad,” Steve coos. “It’s just me, babydoll,” Eddie smiles, voice gentle, “It’s me.” “What the fuck?” you ask, still against the wall by the fridge with your heart hammering. “S’just a prank honey, we were just fucking with you,” Eddie says softly, taking a step toward you that makes you flinch, “Hey…you okay?” “No Ed, I’m not fucking okay,” you bark, “What is wrong with you? With both of you?” “We didn’t think you were gonna get so freaked out, angel,” Steve sighs, “I’m sorry. We’re sorry.” 

“Are you mad?” Eddie pouts, putting the mask on the counter. “Yeah,” you nod, standing up, “I’m fucking mad. And I’m sure the neighbors are gonna call the fucking cops from all the screaming and yelling.” “Babe, hey, c’mon it was a joke,” Steve’s shoulder slump when you brush past him, “Let’s just get cozy upstairs, okay? We can all go to bed.” “Fuck you,” you huff, stomping up the stairs, “Both of you.” 

They follow you like puppies up the stairs, closing in on you when you make it back into the bedroom. Soft apologies and kisses to your cheeks, surrounded by them – their hands, their hair, their scent. Slipping around you like snakes, but sweet – anything to hypnotize you out of how mad you are. “Don’t be so pouty,” Steve coos, peeling off his shirt, “You’re okay, we won’t do it again.” “We’ll never do it again, I promise,” Eddie mumbles into a kiss by your ear, already down to his boxers, “We’re awful, we’re so awful.” Your knitted brows and sour pout stick while they do their best to get you to break, but it’s not until Eddie’s lips catch on that spot just below the hinge of your jaw that you let out a soft gasp. “There she is,” Eddie smirks into the next flick of his tongue and graze of his teeth, teasing the spot until your face relaxes. “C’mon,” Steve whispers, tugging your t-shirt over your head, “Let us make it all better, hm?”

“Lay down, sweetheart,” Eddie encourages while you get to the edge of the mattress. The comforter was still in the mess you left it in when you woke up from your dream. Despite your anger you do as he asks, not protesting while he slips your shorts and panties off without a second of hesitation.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he smirks, “Just how you like it.”

Your thighs part for him on their own accord, barely waiting a second before his mouth makes contact with your already slick center. You whimper and Eddie smiles into your cunt, slurping around your clit to get you stimulated quickly. Can’t be mad if you can’t think straight.

“Mmm, Ed like that,” you whine out, hips rolling up against his mouth.

“Already so wet for us, sweet thing,” he brags in a low voice, “Maybe you like bein’ scared.”

“No I – uhn…mmm…” 

Eddie’s first two fingers slip in with little resistance, coaxing soft needy moans out of you with each pump, each soft tease of his tongue. He lets out a dreamy sigh while your legs pull up to your chest, revealing more of yourself to him. He busies his mouth while looking over the expanse of your body, watching Steve lean in to kiss you. Your hand entwines in Eddie’s hair, scratching at his scalp softly while he wraps his arms around your thighs. He could eat you all night. “I know you’re not kneeling closer to me so I’ll suck you off,” you stare up at Steve in disbelief. “I uh…well,” Steve bites his lip, redness building on his cheeks. He looks down at you, kneeling by your face on the mattress with his cock in his hand, stroking slowly. His chain glints in the low light from the sconces above the bed, catching in his chestnut hair – too handsome, it was unfair. “You want me to suck your dick after all that? You think you deserve it?” you ask, eyes rolling when Eddie’s fingers curl up against you – letting out a sinful moan.

“Well when your mouth hangs open like that,” Steve chuckles coolly. He leans down again to capture you in a kiss, stroking himself while he does. He nuzzles your nose when he breaks away, “You wanna sit on my face?”  Your breath catches, nodding eagerly. “M’kinda in the middle of something,” Eddie says from between your thighs. “Well you can be in the middle of somethin’ else, Munson,” Steve grins while you change positions to him lying on his back. Your legs straddle over him, ass in his face while you look down the rest of his body. Steve pulls you down firmly, tongue gliding between your folds in a slow back and forth at first, pushing his face in it. You yelp when he flicks his tongue over your swollen, sensitive clit; thighs twitching while he finds his rhythm.  “Hmm, you’re close, aren’t you?” Steve teases while pulling away for air.

“Y-yes sir,” you sigh back, hips bouncing gently against his mouth for more friction.

Eddie pulls his boxers off, tossing them on the floor and reaching for a forgotten scrunchy on Steve’s dresser to pull his hair back. He crawls back onto the bed, giving you a soft kiss, “You look so pretty right now.”

“Thank you,” you whisper against his full pink lips, kissing him back. You lean down with him, watching as he kisses Steve’s stomach, right by his happy trail, taking his cock in his ringed hand. A glob of spit falls from his mouth, working Steve’s shaft with a precision only another person with one could have. 

Steve groans into your pussy, louder when Eddie takes the tip in his mouth. Your mouth waters against your better judgment, body betraying you when you lean forward onto your hands to meet Eddie at Steve’s cock. You kiss again, both tongues flicking together over Steve’s swollen head making him whimper between your legs. You both let your lips graze his length, leaving wet kisses in their wake before Eddie takes over again. You gather his curls so you can watch him, the visual sending you right over the edge when he starts to touch himself in time.

“Good girl,” Steve coos softly, evidence of your orgasm on his chin while you shimmy off his face.

Eddie comes back up with a breathy smile, hazily letting them direct you while Steve pushes up to sit against the pillows propped up on the head board.

“Think you should get filled up, pretty girl,” Steve says softly, “You wanna?” 

You nod, straddling Steve, letting his hands skate over the tops of your thighs while you let yourself sink down onto him. His head thuds back against the headboard, eyes closing when your walls snuggly fit around him – warm and wet.

“Think you can do both?” he asks, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest. 

Your brow quirks, “We do that all the time.” “No, no, baby,” Eddie smirks, coming up behind you, “Both of us in the same place.” Your head turns around, looking down at Eddie’s length in his hand, thinking about how thick Steve is inside you already while he thrusts up lazily. “S’not gonna fit,” you hesitate. Eddie kisses your shoulder, “I think we can fit, just keep bouncin’ on Steve for me.” “You like to watch?” you wink while looking back at him, finding a cadence that makes the fat of your ass shake.

“You know I do,” he replies, voice low and gravely – it hits the pit of your stomach. Steve signals Eddie to come forward, crawling up over one of his thighs. “You can do it, babe,” Steve encourages, holding you in place, “You’re already soaked.” 

You feel him push in, one hand on your lower back while the other guides his length to aid in pressing over Steve. You let out a low groan, sweat beading at your hairline while your eyes nearly cross from the stretch. Your brows pinch together, mouth hanging open in that desperate way that makes Steve primal with need. “Ooh, does that feel good, baby? Does it feel good?” he asks, voices light and sing-songy. “Y-yeah, oh – oh fuck -” you huff when Eddie does a slow practice thrust, to see where you’re both at. Eddie moans once he finds the pace, unforgiving fingers clutching you for balance. Steve chuckles at your face, forefinger and thumb reaching under your chin to press into your cheeks. “F-fuck I’m so…I’m so, sssooo…” “Sssoooo full. That’s right, so full, aren’t you honey?” he grins, mocking you now with a little shake to your face, “Look at you. You like that? You like gettin’ filled up like this?”  “Yeah,” you whine while Eddie starts a steady pace, both men grunting at the pleasure of you tightening around them. The slide of themselves against each other makes Steve’s breath hitch when his hips cant upward in time. 

“Shit, Ed,” Steve grunts, fingertips sinking into your hips. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head while he presses a wet kiss to your neck, “Fuck.” “Yeah? S’my dick nice, pretty boy?” Ed winks down, hand entwining in your hair at the root while the other cruelly grips you at the waist. You’ll feel that grip tomorrow, both of them – party favors for the pleasure you’re feeling now. Steve nips at your neck, listening to your panting, your whines – at this rate you look like you don’t even know your own name. You start to falter, leaning down into him while your arms give out, face finding home in the crook of his neck and the dying scent of his cologne. “Hey, you still mad at me?” Eddie asks breathily. Your scalp screams in a delicious sting when he pulls you up by your hair, back arching deep to make you face him. You struggle against it at first, tilting your head down to look at Steve whose tongue has flicked out to tease one of your nipples. “Look at daddy, honey,” he chastises in a low heated tone, teeth grazing the hardened bud, “Look up at daddy.” Eddie’s laugh is low, bubbling from his tummy when you finally relent, leaning your neck back to look at him. Even upside down he’s pretty – hair falling mostly out of the scrunchy he stole, leaving messy curls wild around his face. “You still mad at me, babydoll?” he grunts out, “You still mad?” His free hand reaches around to cup your jaw, leaning in to give you a hungry kiss. He growls into it, pumping deeper in short thrusts. A choked moan pours out of you when they move in tandem, Steve sliding out while Eddie slides in. “Aw, you don’t look mad,” he taunts. Another kiss before his face hovers over yours, grinning, pleased with himself, “You look so gone, holy shit.”

“M’n-not m-mad anymore, daddy,” you nearly cry, voice tight, “Fuck – harder.” “Harder?” his brow quirks, “You hear that Steve? She wants it harder.” “Yeah, I heard her,” he grunts, “Give her back to me.” Eddie lets go of your hair without a thought, dropping you into Steve’s chest like a rag doll. He props you up above him, his big hand around your jaw this time while Eddie keeps both his tight on your waist for leverage. With as much strength as you can muster you hold yourself up on your forearms, limply bouncing forward with each thrust. “You want it harder, pretty girl?” Steve asks, looking up at you – his own eyes are blown, completely flushed from double the pleasure. “Pl-please,” you huff, “Please, sir.” “Hmm, you know I like when you say that,” he grins, “Ask again.” “Please fuck me harder, sir,” your eyes roll when you feel Eddie’s chest against your back, both of them closing in on you. “So good,” Steve breathes, “That’s a good girl.” You feel the tickle of Eddie’s curls on your shoulder while he leans over you to get to Steve, wrapping a hand in his auburn hair to pull him up for a deep kiss. You listen to them, watching while their eyes flutter closed, pace picking up inside you while their tongues fight each other for dominance – ending in heated smiles, always a draw. Nose to nose they watch each other, your face to the side on Steve’s chest. 

“Spread her open for me, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles against his lips, leaning in for another greedy kiss before making the move to push up off your back. Steve pulls him back down eagerly, bicep flexing while he holds Eddie by the back of the head for another searing kiss, “Spread her open, huh? Like you do for me?” “Shut up,” Ed flushes, biting his lower lip while he looks down at him before pressing his lips to your cheek and pushing up. He holds you in place with one hand on the dip between your neck and shoulder, the other grazing down to your upper back. Steve hands slide down to your ass, gripping hard to spread you open from the bottom. With a little more space, Eddie’s pace quickens, your breaths punching in scattered rhythm when Steve plants his feet on the mattress to fuck up into you. “Ohmygod, oh my god fuck,” you cry out, “I c-can’t I’m gonna…oh fuck, I’m so – I’m so close don’...don’stop please.” “That’s it angel,” Steve encourages, “You’re doin’ so good.” “So good, baby,” Eddie adds on gruffly, “Really t-takin’ it.” Steve let’s go of one ass cheek to cup your face, thumb tracing over the supple skin in welcome gentleness. You lean down in a tired slump, lips marrying his – the mint of his mouthwash still on his tongue when it slides into your mouth. He groans through it, hips stuttering – adding more rigid stimulation against his cock while they both thrust deep inside you. You nearly go dumb when they both hit the same spot, clamping down over both of them while you see white. Tears well in your eyes while they fuck you through it, babbling like you’re possessed when the pleasure teeters on becoming too much past your orgasm. “Sh-shit oh, angel that’s it – fuck that pussy’s so..mmm -fuck,” he grunts, pressing his hips up against you while you feel him spill inside. 

“Oh god,” Eddie whimpers out, the warmth from Steve’s release coating over his cock, making it slicker. Steve eases out, kissing you passionately while you suddenly feel empty without them both stretching you to the brim. “Get on your back for me, sweetheart,” Eddie instructs, soft and needy, “Wanna see you.” They gently get you on your back, back to soft kisses and touches like before. Eddie can tell you’re already two deep, not wanting to get you past the point of feeling good – and you’re close. “Can you take some more?” he asks, running his knuckles over your cheek, “It’s okay if you can’t.” “I can do it,” you rasp out, chuckling a little, “I’m very brave.” Eddie laughs, caging you in under him with Steve pressed to your side, “So brave, babydoll.” “I’ll go slow,” he nuzzles into your neck, bangs brushing against your ear, “M’still sorry.”

The three of you lay there under the sheets, collecting your breaths on the come down. Steve’s fingers are laced with yours while he lays on his stomach, Eddie’s hand rests on your waist while he lays on his side. “I have to pee,” you frown into the quiet. “Go pee,” Steve murmurs, half asleep into the pillow. “I can’t.” “Why?” Steve’s eyes open. “I’m too scared,” you whine, “I don’t wanna go by myself in the dark.” Steve lets out a famous Harrington sigh, “Do you need me to come with you?” “And do what? Yell at me to call the police if something bad happens?” Eddie giggles, stretching out on the bed, “She’s got a point Harrington.” “Eddie’s right, they’d outsmart you so fast,” you shrug, “Will you both come with me?” “Yeah,” they huff in unison, shuffling out of the covers and lazily finding their bottoms on the floor. They lead you down the hallway, feeling much better with both of them flanking your sides. And it helps of course, that they turned all the lights on. 

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[thefreakandthehair]

I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since. 

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something. 

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile. 

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy. 

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy. 

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers. 

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck. 

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page. 

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.” 

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around. 

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there. 

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him. 

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.” 

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive. 

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm. 

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?” 

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor. 

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual. 

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back. 

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.” 

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands. 

“You’re serious.” Eddie says. 

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases. 

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?” 

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.” 

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?” 

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull. 

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear. 

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

[andvys]

If you’re taking requests (and if you’re not totally ignore me) maybe a hurt comfort with Eddie? Like maybe the readers been sinking further into their head because they deal with anxiety and repetitive thoughts and no one in the party seems to notice except Eddie who is softer and more coddling?

You will be loved E.M.

Warnings: slight angst, anxiety, mentions of depression, mentions of Eddie almost dying, mentions of Steve's trauma, fluff

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Word count: 2k

stranger things masterlist

-

You never had it easy in life, anxiety has always been a big part of you, ever since you were a kid, you struggled with your own thoughts, with fears that you couldn’t control and with things that you probably overthought. Whenever you tried to open up and talk about it, you got dismissed or worse, pushed away, especially by people you considered friends. 

As you got older, you learned to keep things to yourself, to not talk about them, knowing that you will just be ignored, misunderstood or pushed away again. 

Some days it’s easy to dismiss your thoughts, to distract yourself and to think about other things. You always wear a smile on your face and show everyone how happy you are, even when you’re not. 

You have amazing friends now, ones that you went through hell and back with. You know that they would never push you away or ignore you and your struggles, yet your fears always keep you from opening up to someone. 

It’s easier to keep quiet. 

You know that Steve is struggling with everything that happened. He acts like he is fine when he really isn’t. He has no one to come home to, no one to comfort him, no one to make him feel safe. He experienced trauma, too much of it. He keeps his feelings to himself, pretending to be okay, he is lying to everyone and to himself. Just like you do. 

Maybe it’s bad to look up to him when you know how much he is suffering in silence but you take him as an example. 

Keep quiet and pretend that you’re okay for the sake of others and for yourself..

Though when things get truly bad and your thoughts and your fears take hold of you, you can’t continue to act like you’re okay, you can’t continue to smile and waltz around happily, showing everyone how ‘good’ you’re feeling. 

You force that smile on yourself, you force that laugh or that giggle, you force yourself to show up, you force yourself to show them that you are still okay. And you are relieved to see that no one notices how much you are struggling. 

At least that’s what you think. 

Eddie notices. He always notices everything about you. 

He knows when you are happy and he knows when you’re not. 

He knows when a smile is genuine and when it isn’t. 

And right now, he knows that you are pretending. 

The Wheeler’s are on vacation– well, Ted, Karen and Holly are. Nancy stayed at home and after much convincing they allowed Mike to stay behind as well. Tonight, the whole party is here for movie night. 

Eddie, who had been excited for this night all week, wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug the moment you walked through the door, he kissed your cheek and squeezed your sides, making you giggle. 

That was a genuine giggle and so was the one when he surprised you with your favorite snacks that he got when he stopped by Big Buy’s just to get you the things you love. 

Eddie might not be able to afford much but he spoils you with little things whenever he can, you are friends but he treats you like you’re his girl. He takes care of you, he makes sure you eat and drink enough, he reminds you to bring your jacket whenever you go out together but in case you don’t, he always brings one of his hoodies– just for you. He gets you little presents every now and then, whether it’s a cute stuffie that reminds him of you or a pretty necklace, anything he sees that he thinks you might like, he will get it for you. 

He loves spoiling you, he loves paying attention to you. 

Eddie always keeps a close eye on you and he always makes sure that you know that you can come to him, for anything. Whether it’s just to talk or to spend time together, Eddie is always here for you, anytime. 

Tonight, he keeps an even closer eye on you. When he stopped by your workplace to bring you your favorite coffee and pastry, he had noticed that your eyes were glassy, a little red rimmed and filled with sadness– you were crying. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into a hug and ask you if you are okay but he didn’t want to push you. 

Dustin, who claimed the spot next to you continuously tried to make you laugh during the movie, you did laugh and while the teen was proud of his jokes and of making you laugh, Eddie knew that you were forcing it. You didn’t even pay attention to the movie, your eyes looked distant, your mind was elsewhere. 

Max asked if you were bored to which you shook your head and gave her a small smile, she offered you the snacks that Eddie got you but you declined. 

Finally, you excused yourself during the second movie, no one really paid attention, everyone was too focused on the fight scene that erupted on the screen– you waited for this moment, waiting for everyone to be distracted so you could make an escape without getting unwanted attention. 

Eddie’s eyes follow you, watching you walk out of the house and into the garden, you close the patio door behind you. He gives you a moment to yourself before he decides to follow you out. 

He finds you sitting on the swing chair, looking up at the starry sky, your toes are touching the grass, your hair is flowing from the wind, even from a distance, Eddie can see that you are freezing, it’s a chilly summer night. Instantly, he takes his sweater off and walks towards you. 

“You never bring a jacket do you?” 

You flinch a little, lowering your head and turning towards him, your sad eyes lock with his but a smile tugs at your lips, “you know me.” 

He chuckles, walking closer to you, he offers you his black sweater. You shake your head, “I don’t want you to get cold–”

“Sweetheart, I’m not the one wearing a sundress,” he says, raising his brows as he looks down at your cute dress, “it’s cute and you look very pretty but you must be freezing in that tiny thing.”

You blush at his words, breaking eye contact, you look down at his sweater and grab it, gladly putting it on. Warmth and Eddie’s scent embrace you, it makes your heart flutter and long for him even more. 

He smiles to himself, his heart is soaring whenever he sees you in his clothes. 

Sitting down next to you, he turns to you, “is the movie too boring for you?” He asks as he stares at your side profile, your skin is glowing beneath the moonlight, the urge to brush your hair back and kiss your cheek is so strong, “cause it’s definitely too boring for me,” he jokes, making you laugh. 

“Are action movies not your thing?” 

“Some of them are but I’m more into horror,” he shrugs, giving you a cheeky smile. 

“Me too,” you smile. 

“We should have a movie night by ourselves, just binge on horror movies, eat pizza and pretzels–” 

“Of course we can never forget about the pretzels!” You laugh. 

His eyes light up at your genuine laugh, “you know it, they’re my favorites.” 

“You’re obsessed,” you chuckle. Still staring into his eyes that look even more beautiful than the stars in the night sky, “I’d love to have a horror movie night with you,” you smile. 

His heart skips a beat as excitement rushes through him. It’s not that you have never hung out alone before, there were a few times but mostly, you always hang out in groups and Eddie has been waiting for a chance to be with you alone, so he can shower you with more love. 

“Yeah?” 

You nod, “yeah,” you whisper. 

“Cool,” he says with a big smile on his face, one that makes you feel at ease. 

Eddie scoots a little closer to you, he looks into your eyes. He can see the glint of happiness, the one that has been missing before. He reaches for your hand and as he turns it around, you instantly intertwine your fingers with his making his heart swell.

Even before he joined your friend group and became a big part of your life, he crushed on you hard. You were always the girl he had his eyes on, you were always the one he was excited to see whenever he walked into the hell hole that people call school. He is pretty sure that he failed too many tests because he was too busy staring at you. 

“How are you, sweetheart?” He asks as he squeezes your hand. 

The question isn’t half hearted, it isn’t forced or just a conversation starter, it’s a genuine question because he wants to know what you really feel like, he wants to know because he cares. He always cared. Eddie was always here, he was always the one who take care of you, the one who always noticed when you weren’t feeling well, the one who always did everything to show you how loved you are and as you think about all the moments, he was there to make you feel good, you suddenly feel tears welling up in your eyes. 

His eyes widen a little when he sees the tears, when he notices the quivering lip, when he feels your tight grip on his hand. You don’t have to say it, he knows you are not doing well and as you start crying, he doesn’t even hesitate to pull you into his arms. 

“Oh y/n,” he whispers as he picks you up and pulls you on his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around your form. You bury your face in his neck and put your arms around him, crying softly as he holds you. 

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he whispers, rubbing your back softly, “you’re not alone, I’m here.” 

Your quiet sniffles break his heart just the way your sobs did that night when he almost died as he laid in your arms. You were there, you gave him the strength that he needed, you saved him, you took care of him, you never left his side and now he will do the same for you. 

He kisses your shoulder and plays with your hair, whispering some reassuring words into your ear, trying to ease your pain, trying to comfort you as best as he can and when you calm down, you pull away to look into his eyes. 

Eddie cups your cheeks, wiping away your fallen tears, he pulls you closer, “you don’t have to hide your feelings, baby,” he whispers as he presses a soft kiss to your damp cheek, “I’m always here, no matter what,” he kisses your other cheek, “I don’t want you to keep things to yourself,” he kisses your forehead, “you were there for me, so let me be here for you now,” he says as he kisses your nose, making you smile a little, “you’re my girl, let me take of you.” 

Your glassy eyes meet his, you notice the blush on his cheeks, the hopeful look in his eyes. 

“I’m your girl?” 

He blinks, smiling nervously, “i-if you want to be,” he whispers shyly as his heart begins to race, just like yours does. 

“I would love to be your girl, Eddie Munson.” 

His smile grows bigger, happiness rushes through him, his eyes light up and he looks giddier than ever. He grabs your cheeks harder and pulls you closer, “my girl,” he whispers before he slams his lips against yours, pulling you into a sweet and passionate kiss, one that fills you with warmth, hope and love. 

Eddie holds you tighter than before, he pours all the love he has for you into the kiss, you can feel his happiness and that alone shows you will be okay eventually. 

You have him by your side, that means that you will always be loved. 

[choke-me-joey]

Eddie Munson x fem metalhead cheerleader

Summary: Based on this - how Eddie met his not so typical cheerleader girlfriend and a little exploration of their relationship.

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smoking, underage drinking, drug use, swearing, flirting, smut.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 1

Eddie knew who you were.

Of course he did, how could he not?! You were the only member of the cheerleading squad who didn't look like a clone of Chrissy Cunningham, for one. And second of all, you wore a leather jacket. Over your cheerleading uniform. It was practically unheard of.

Plus, you were the only member of the cheerleading squad who didn't look at him like he was lower than dirt, except maybe Chrissy herself. God knows why she was with that meathead prick Jason Carver.

Eddie's fatuation with you began when you waltzed in to Ms O'Donnell's class that one September morning, leather jacket draped over your shoulders. It was oversized, with a few band patches pinned to the back - Metallica, Def Leppard, Slayer and Black Sabbath to name a few - and took your usual seat next to him.

It wasn't just the jacket, mind. The jacket was the spark to the powder keg. Eddie had been drawn to you for months. Your pretty little face, your captivating smile, your laugh that made his heart thump in his chest, and your eyes....God, your fucking eyes. They were the most stunning eyes he'd ever seen.

And then there was your body. Toned and lean from your years of athletics, but still curvy in all the right places. One time he'd seen your uniform skirt rise up in the cafeteria, exposing little black booty shorts hugging your shapely ass and he'd damn near choked on the pretzels he was scoffing down. So he'd already had a raging physical and emotional boner for you for a while now.

But now, the jacket.

You'd never worn that before, and judging by the size of it, the way you were wearing it and how worn it looked, he guessed your boyfriend must have lent it to you to protect your uniform from the rain that morning.

But, there weren't very many metalheads that went to Hawkins High, so maybe your boyfriend went to a different school? Or college, even?

Eddie felt himself grow miserable at the thought of you having a boyfriend. Of course you had a boyfriend. You were way too hot not to have been snapped up by now. He'd seen how some of the other guys at school had looked at you in the hallways, heard what they'd said in low whispers when they thought nobody else was listening in to their conversations.

"Tell me she doesnt have perfect blow job lips, dude."

"I saw her at the pool last weekend, she's got the perfect rack, biggest tits on the squad for sure."

"Yo, Anderson told me he fucked her at Murray's 4th of July party last year, apparently she's an absolute freak-"

"Shit, I've got to hit that."

But Eddie saw you as more than a sexual object. To him, you were an angel. You were a goddess roaming these halls.

So, what would you ever want with the likes of the town freak?

While Ms O'Donnell had her back turned, you had leaned over and tapped Eddie on the shoulder, almost making him jump out of his seat. He definitely hadn't been staring out of the window thinking about tonight's Hellfire session, or that new guitar solo he was trying to nail down, or your pretty fucking eyes again-

"Hey, Eddie?" You whisper, a soft smile gracing your plump lips.

Fuck. You knew his name?! And his actual name, not 'Munson' or 'freak'. He turns his head to look at you like a deer in the headlights. It actually concerns you how startled he looks. "Uh, sorry, never mind-"

"No, uh, sorry, just...you know my name?"

You raise an eyebrow, looking amused.

"I've been sitting next to you in this class for over a month now, duh. Of course I know your name!" You giggle softly. "Just like you know mine, right?"

Of course Eddie fucking knew your name. Tonight he'd definitely groan it out as he jerked his cock to the thought of you in nothing but that damn jacket, Christ he was no better than those dickwads in the halls-

"Eddie?"

"Uh, yeah, sorry, yeah of course I do. It's Y/N, right? Or should I call you by your Hell's Angels name now?" He gestures towards the jacket. You giggle again, trying to keep your voice down.

"Y/N is fine, I don't have my motorcycle licence yet." You tease and Eddie swallows, hard. "Can I...can I talk to you later? You have a free period after your next class, right?"

Good lord, you knew his timetable. He swore he was having an out of body experience, you wanted to talk to him outside of-

Oh.

Of course.

Eddie realised what you were after, and felt like kicking himself for thinking you could have possibly meant anything else.

"Uh, yeah, sure, sure, you wanna meet in the parking lot or in the woods. ..?"

"Parking lot is fine, 71 Chevy, right?"

"That's me." Eddie nods and you shoot him a winning smile and God, he can die happy now.

Ms O'Donnell shoots you both a warning glare and you immediately shut up, concentrating on your note taking. Eddie was the master of pretending to look busy, so he pretended long enough until the old bat's back was turned again, and he returned to his thoughts, flicking his eyes to the clock approximately every 5 seconds for the next thirty minutes.

***

Eddie's leant against his van, cupping his hand over the end of his cigarette as his stupid fucking lighter spits out pathetic sparks when you come bouncing over, now wearing that damn jacket properly with your cheerleading uniform almost completely hidden underneath.

"Need a light?" You produce a lighter from the jacket pocket, and Eddie eyes it (and you) suspiciously. "It's new, picked it up this morning."

"Thanks," Eddie says with the cigarette dangling between his lips. He lights it and hands the lighter back to you, only to be even more surprised when you pull out a pack of smokes from your other jacket pocket and light one, taking a drag. "Wouldn't have pegged you as a smoker."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Eddie Munson." You smile coyly as you exhale the smoke away from him. He scoffs.

"I don't doubt it. Not many leather wearing, smoke puffing cheerleaders wandering the halls of Hawkins High."

"Even less of them than have an interest in DnD." You say, mirroring Eddie in the way he was leaning against his van. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I've been doing some research and I'm really quite interested in playing. Do you think I could come by Hellfire tonight and maybe put my name down to join?"

Eddie blinks at you.

"Wait...you don't wanna buy?"

"Buy?" You ask slowly, then the penny drops and you burst out laughing, shoving his arm playfully. "Oh god, sorry! Shit, I completely forgot you do that! No, I'm just asking if I can come crash your campaign later."

"You, Y/N, a cheerleader who rubs shoulders with Chrissy Cunningham, are interested in playing Dungeons and Dragons?!" Eddie's tone makes you frown. It's almost like he's mocking you.

"Yes?" You say, unable to see the point he's making. You puff on your cigarette again. "Look, I get it, I'm a girl, so if you don't want me in your club, that's fine, I totally get it, but don't just assume that because I'm on the squad that means that I'm exactly like the rest of them. I mean, the looks I've gotten from them today just for wearing my fucking jacket, you wouldn't believe it. It's just a jacket! We don't all listen to fucking New Kids on The Block and drool over Tom Cruise."

"You don't?" Eddie smirks, a teasing lilt to his voice. He's perked up a little since you said it was 'your' jacket and not 'your boyfriend's'.

"No, I don't! I like good music-" you gesture to some of the patches on your jacket, "-and James Hetfield is way, way hotter. " You take a final drag on your cigarette and throw it on the ground, stubbing it out with your worn Converse. You hike your bag up on your shoulder. "So? Am I welcome or not?"

Eddie stubbed out his own cigarette under his dirty Reebok before shooting you a smirk.

"See you at 4, m'lady."

Your face lit up and you curtsied, actually fucking curtsied at him, pulling your skirt out to the side and everything.

"I look forward to it, kind sir."

And then with a swish of skirt, leather jacket and high ponytail, you were heading back towards the school building, leaving Eddie to almost collapse against his beloved vehicle of choice, dramatically clutching his chest.

Oh yeah, Eddie definitely knew who you were.

[rebelspykatie]

Part 1 of 2 🧦🧵

Part 2 | AO3

It’s the socks that break his resolve. Of course it’s the socks.

The first time he saw them, he wasn’t even sure what he was feeling. Steve Harrington waltzing into gym class in those knee high white socks wasn’t what Eddie expected to solidify his sexuality during the crisis phase of sophomore year, but he knew what he felt in that moment would change him forever. The way he couldn’t take his eyes off them. How he finally understood the whispers he heard from girls in the hallways. That fluttering in his stomach when Steve ran past his spot on the bleachers. 

There was no going back after that. Sophomore year was just the awakening. Over the years it turned into an obsession, the way he made sure he was in the building whenever Steve might be wearing them at gym class or during a game. He was disappointed when he showed up and Steve was sporting ankle socks, grumbling about it the whole way home, but staying to watch either way. 

It didn’t escape his notice that Steve looked hot in anything. Those small green shorts left little to the imagination. But there was something about the socks that did it for him. The way they stood out, perfect white against his tan skin. How they hugged his calves and the material strained to fit over muscles. The colored rings around the top bleed dull from the stretch of the fabric. The direct connection they had to his burgeoning sexuality emerging during that fateful gym class. 

Maybe it was the peak of leg hair inching out over the tops. A rare sight in the fall when he’s shaved hairless for swim season. Eddie gets a different thrill during that time of the year, hiding under the bleachers to watch Steve in his tiny speedo. But no, basketball season was more his speed. Pretending he’s there to sell while camping out to catch a glimpse of Steve in small shorts and knee highs. 

By senior year, he knows Steve hangs out at the Forest Hills park with some of the other guys from the basketball team. And this time he wasn’t even seeking him out, he just happened to be passing by after school on his way home and honed in on Steve’s car in the parking lot. If he camps out in that park to sell that summer, hoping to catch a glimpse of Steve, it’s no one’s business but his own. 

When Starcourt happens, it makes Eddie’s life easier. He doesn’t have to sneak around in a mall, he can blend in and fade into the crowd without anyone knowing his true reason for showing up in that overcrowded nightmare fuel of a place. He can sip on his orange Julius and watch as Steve flirts with everyone that comes into Scoops. He waits patiently for Steve to take his turn cleaning, bent over the tables with his back to the entrance, calves pulled taunt as he bends to pick up garbage from around booths. The socks aren’t quite as high as the Hawkins gym issued ones, but they’re still putting on a good show. 

He’s pretty sure Steve never caught wind of his presence, how he’s creeped on him for years harboring an idiotic crush. Borderline stalking. There’s no recognition on his face when Eddie holds a bottle to his throat while he’s running for his life. After surviving, they become friends and somehow that’s worse than being a nobody to Steve. 

Suddenly, he’s up close and personal with everything he’s been watching from afar. He doesn’t get to see his beloved socks for a long time, but it doesn’t mean that Steve isn’t torturing him. There are pool parties where he suffers through another round of tight shorts, this time dripping wet and clinging to areas Eddie desperately wants to see. There are movie nights in the dead of summer, Steve shirtless and hairier than ever, lounging across the couch and inches away from Eddie’s twitchy hands. There are sleepovers where Eddie gets to witness a sleep ruffled Steve blearily searching for coffee with his hair standing at a truly incredible height off his head. 

All of it was just a dumb crush, something he tried to hide away. There’s no way Steve feels the same. He resigns himself to exposure therapy, hoping with enough time it’ll go away. As if he hasn’t spent five years watching from afar as Steve grows into a man and becomes the kind of person Eddie wants to bring home at night. 

So of course, because the universe is a cruel bitch that never lets Eddie off easy, it’s the socks that break his resolve. They’re going to the county fair, all the teens, and Steve shows up in tiny little blue shorts with dumb knee high socks. Eddie’s brain is completely fried by the time he’s even out of his van. They’re the same stark white he remembers, with three blue rings around the top, stretched to their limits, just like Eddie’s restraint. He’s even wearing a gray Hawkins high basketball shirt, like he’s aware that he’s stepping right into Eddie’s dirty little fantasy. 

It’s slow torture, following him around the fair, acting like he’s not effected every time he catches a glimpse of Steve. Redirecting his line of sight every time Steve turns around and avoiding Robin’s knowing gaze. The inside of his cheek is sore from biting it to stop himself from opening his big, dumb mouth. 

He’s so, so well behaved until they get home. Everyone else heading out and leaving him and Steve alone. All it takes is Steve reaching for a glass in the kitchen, on tiptoes, his own private show, socks moving with the flex of his calves, for his restraint to snap. He lets out a moan before he even knows it’s happening, freezing in the dead silence, his own stupidity echoing in his head. When Steve turns around and looks at him with that adorable surprised puppy look, he’s a goner, crossing the room and spinning Steve around to trap him against the counter, glass clutched in his hand. 

“You and these damn socks, Harrington.”

Steve sets the glass down, but doesn’t push Eddie away. In fact, he pulls Eddie closer, wrapping a hand around his neck, “I thought you’d never get the hint.” And kisses him.

Part 2 | AO3

[shadowdaddies]

Always Yours

Azriel x Reader angst to fluff

A/N: okay this is the alternate end to Never Yours, based on this request where reader and Az have a happy ending. The story is the same up until the cut, and that's where it changes. This is still quite angsty so please read the warnings.💜

Warnings: drinking, drugging/vomitting as a result, attempted SA

Azriel had been gone on mission for weeks, leaving your heart aching, empty and alone. You tried to be understanding of his role as spymaster, supporting and encouraging him when he would leave you in Velaris. Over the past year with tensions growing between courts, you and Azriel had spent more time apart than together. A dichotomy of emotions was consuming you, the loathing you felt towards him for abandoning you so often battling how deeply you missed him. 

It was another lonely day in your home, holding back tears while you cleaned the house as a pathetic attempt at distracting yourself. A knock on the door stirred you from your eddying thoughts, and you set down the cleaning supplies, wiping your tears as you looked through the peephole. A head of long blonde hair appeared through the lens, and you sighed, unlocking the door as it opened to reveal Morrigan on the other side. 

Forcing yourself to reciprocate her cheery smile, you held the door wider as the perky female bounded into the room, curls bouncing behind her. “Get dressed. We’re going out to Rita’s tonight,” she announced as she waltzed past you towards your bedroom.

Opening up the armoire, Mor pulled out a low-cut sleeveless black dress, tossing it onto the bed before moving towards the jewelry box on your dresser. Sighing, you sat down on the bed, playing with the silky fabric of the garment. It felt wrong, going to Rita’s without Azriel. It felt wrong letting yourself have any fun while he was risking his life to keep your court safe.

“I don’t know, Mor. I would just rather stay in tonight,” you uttered in a defeated voice, dropping the dress skirt back onto the bed. 

Oblivious to your misery, Mor whipped around, a beautiful necklace and matching earring in her hands as she approached you. “None of that. You and I are going out for a girls’ night, and we’re going to have fun. You do remember what that word means, don’t you?” she teased, her hair tickling your neck as she reached around to clasp the necklace on you. 

You chewed your lip, staring at the dress as you deliberated your options. “Just one drink,” Mor spoke, softer this time, eyes wide with sincerity. 

A small yet genuine smile made its way to your lips at that. “Just one drink,” you agreed, stripping your shirt as you changed into the outfit she’d laid out. 

Mor squealed with excitement, helping you get ready before you left for the bar. It was a crowded night, a sea of new faces in the crowd that you observed from where you stood at the bar. It had been so long since you’d been around this many people - the lights, the music, the crowd - and you were suddenly overcome with nerves. 

Knocking back the drink that Mor had ordered for you, you flagged down the bartender for another, finishing that one quickly as well. You were feeling the effects of the drink by the time you dragged Mor to the dance floor, feeling giggly and light for the first time in ages. 

A striking female caught Mor’s eye, and you laughed as you nudged your friend towards the part of the floor where the other female stood. “Go talk to her, I’m going to grab some water,” you whisper-shouted into her ear over the music. Mor nodded, the two of you parting ways as you escaped the sweaty, writhing bodies on the dance floor in search of the bar.

The place was even more crowded than before, the bartender now slammed with drink orders as you failed to flag him down for a water. Feeling a warm presence at your back, you turned to see a tall male, dark curls falling in his brown eyes as he smiled down at you. Only after blinking several times did you confirm that this was not Azriel, but a handsome stranger whose hand now rested on the small of your back.

It had been so long since anyone had touched you like this, and you found yourself leaning into his warmth, a smile gracing your lips when he leaned down, whispering into your ear. “Can I get you something to drink?” he spoke in a husky voice, thick with desire that had heat pooling between your legs. Feeling tipsy and eager for something to quench your thirst from dancing, you simply nodded, thanking the male as the bartender brought over a drink for you that was definitely not water.

The room was spinning, and you clutched onto the male at your side, melting into his warmth as broad arms wrapped around you. A soft laugh sounded at your ear, the words coming out distorted as someone whispered comforting words in your ear. 

The scent of pine filled your nose, Azriel smelling slightly different than usual as you burrowed into his chest. A hand found your chin, tilting you up to see a blurred face. You were focusing hard, vision coming to just enough to realize that this was not Azriel. You pushed the male away, your arms weak, movements sluggish.

A shout sounded from your side, blonde hair in a whirl as the man fell to ground, blood pouring from his nose. You stumbled forward, Mor’s embrace catching you before leaning you back against the counter. 

“What were you thinking?” She yelled, holding your face in her hands, a rage unlike which you’d seen from her before in her eyes. Your vision turned spotty, breathing becoming difficult before your stomach lurched, everything in your stomach emptying onto Mor and the ground. 

The scent was strong, Mor’s eyes flaring as she recognized the wrongness of the drink. Your head lolled back against the bar as Mor flagged down Rita, telling her everything. City sentries detained the male, the last thing you saw before your vision faded completely.

You awoke the next morning, your head pounding as you squinted against the light pouring through the window. You heard the rustling of clothing from the other side of the bed, panicking at who the intruder might be. But when you turned over, your heart nearly burst with joy at the sight of Azriel, changing out of his leathers and into sleeping clothes.

Hazel eyes flashed to yours, deep with sorrow and red from tears. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered, voice shaking as he stood there, frozen.

“I’m glad that you did,” you spoke, a cough erupting in your throat at the dryness there. Azriel rushed to your bedside table, grabbing a glass of water as he guided it to your lips. 

“I rushed home as soon as I received word from Rhys. Mor told me what happened at Rita’s last night. I am so, so sorry that I wasn’t there for you,” he whispered, forehead resting against yours as salty tears dripped onto the bedsheets.

“It’s okay, Azriel. I am okay.” You sniffled, heart twisting with the words you wanted to say instead. Pulling back, you looked into his eyes - beautiful, hazel eyes - as you brushed a black curl from his face. “That’s not true. I’m not okay, Azriel. I need you here. I’ve tried to be strong, but I am not whole without you. And I know that that’s selfish but-“

Azriel cut you off with a soft kiss to your lips, a smile breaking out across his perfect face. “My love, I am not going anywhere. Now, or ever. We had Madja look you over last night after the incident.” He paused, reaching down for your hands as he pressed kisses all along the backs of them. “We’re having a baby.”

Your world stopped turning in that moment, pure awe written across your features as you dared to smile up at Azriel. “What do you mean? How?”

Azriel smiled. “Well, I think you know how that happens, but I’m happy to show you if you need a reminder.”

With a giggle, you pushed him playfully. Hope filled your veins, giving you new life that you hadn’t felt in too long. “A baby?”

Azriel pulled you close, the scent of chilled mist and cedar giving you comfort as you leaned into his touch, savoring the feel of his lips brushing your forehead. “I’ve talked to Rhys. We’ll be re-delegating roles in the Court so that I can be here, where I am needed. With my family.”

[blushweddinggowns]

"You look stupid as all hell right now."

"You look stupid as all hell right now," Mike snorted as he watched Robin touch up Steve's eyeliner, "You know that right?"

"It's called romance, you ass," Steve hissed, flipping him off while dutifully keeping his head still, "Who invited you anyway?"

"Your better half."

Steve rolled his eyes but he didn't correct him. He was right anyway, "Isn't it a school night? Are you allowed to be out this late? What would your mom think, knowing you were wasting your precious brain power on Halloween parties-"

"I'm in college you fucking dick!"

That struck a nerve. Steve smirked, good. The little shit deserved it.

"And done!" Robin announced before either of them could throw anymore insults, "I think you look good, way sexier than Tim Curry, for sure. Mike come with me to go get Nancy for a second opinion. You obviously can't be trusted."

Mike huffed, mumbling something under his breath before both of them left the room. Steve was pretty damn sure Eddie had sent him in as a spy because despite all of his reassurances, he still didn't believe that Steve was going to follow through on this stupid costume. But here he was, adjusting his fish net stockings while examining himself in the mirror.

He looked...decent. Which was better than he had been expecting. The make-up wasn't as cartoonish as the movie, something that he hoped Eddie would appreciate. In all honesty, Steve was going to take no criticisms for how he put the whole thing together, Eddie was lucky it was happening at all. Not that he would but still. Though if Steve had to guess, Eddie was going to be a fan. He better fucking be a fan, considering how he'd been asking for this forever.

They'd been together five years. Five fantastic, wonderful years. And four Halloweens with Steve laughing in his face whenever he brought up the Rocky Horror Picture show as costume inspiration. But this year...Steve didn't know. Eddie had just looked...extra desperate this time, needy in a way that Steve just couldn't say no to.

So now here he was, moments away from going downstairs to entertain all of their new and old friends for hours on end, all while wearing a corset.

The things he did for love.

"Knock, knock," Eddie's voice called from the other side of the door, like he could just smell that Steve was alone, "You decent in there Stevie?"

"Not exactly?" Steve called back, still frowning in the mirror, "But you can come in. Just lock it behind you."

Steve didn't look up when Eddie waltzed in, but he did hear his little sharp intake of breath.

"Holy shit," Eddie mumbled, bordering on a whimper as he came up behind Steve. He wrapped his arms around his waist, locking eyes with him through the mirror, "You look..."

"Stupid as hell?" Steve answered for him, smiling a little at how flushed Eddie's face already was. Damn, maybe this thing wasn't that bad after all if it could make him look like that.

Eddie shook his head, swallowing once before breathing out, "I was going to say beautiful. Gorgeous. Breath-taking. Extremely attractive-"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Steve laughed, turning around in his arms. He wrapped them around Eddie's neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss, "I'm glad you like it so much. In fact, I'll even let you take it off later tonight."

Steve thought that would have been a good deal, but it made Eddie frown, "Later? But we can-"

"We can what?" Steve interrupted, "Have sex with all of our adopted children downstairs waiting for us? I don't think so."

But Eddie wasn't done begging. He was even starting to bring out the wet, puppy dog eyes, the manipulative little shit, "B-But I can be quick. I can fix your make-up after. I can-"

"Nope," Steve laughed, pulling away from him with a little smirk, "You made your bed. Now lie in it."

Eddie nearly looked like he was gonna cry, the little drama queen, "I...I didn't think this through, did I?"

Steve grinned, leaning up to kiss his cheek before going to the door. He looked back at him, his smile getting a little bigger at the desperate look on his face.

Maybe he did look like an idiot in the bizarre get-up, but Steve didn't care. Not when it had Eddie rushing to follow him out.

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt3/5

Read from the beginning | Ao3 link

Robin's rant leaves an ear-shattering silence behind. Eddie shakes his head, like he can get the fog out of his brain in the same way a dog gets water out of its fur. It doesn't really help as well as he was hoping, though.

He slowly walks out of the backroom and into the garage. He's the only one there this morning and he makes his way to the old boombox in the corner, where he pushes one of his favorite cassettes – Seventh Star by Black Sabbath – in the player and cranks the volume dial up all the way to the right.

It's a quiet morning, with no customers waltzing in and barely any phone calls. Eddie is glad to be alone and have some time to come back to himself. The music attacking his eardrums, in combination with the familiar movements of cleaning up the garage, helps him organize his thoughts. He keeps replaying everything that happened since Steve showed up at the trailer yesterday night in his mind’s eye, trying to make sense of it all.

When Steve asked him out last month, Eddie hadn't seen any reason to say no, even though he didn't fully trust him. Surely they could have some fun together. As long as he'd make sure to properly guard his heart, Steve wouldn't be able to hurt him anyway.

But it soon got tricky: Steve turned out to be better company than Eddie had expected. The time they spent together wasn't solely about their bodies, like Eddie had expected of someone like Steve Harrington. No, Steve took him out on all kinds of original dates, he actually seemed to listen when Eddie was rambling about random nerd shit, and he always treated Eddie with respect. By the time a month had passed, Eddie was getting worried about the way his stomach started doing cartwheels every time he saw Steve. And when Steve surprised him with flowers last night – something nobody had ever done for Eddie before – he got the confirmation that Steve had been playing the exact game Eddie had wanted to avoid all along.

He had been sure of it: all Steve wanted was to know that he could have anyone he wanted, that even the Freak of Hawkins High would fall for his charms. And he'd walk away as soon as Eddie would try to turn them into something more. And all Eddie knew, as soon as he saw the flowers in Steve's hand, was that he had to keep him at a distance or he would actually fall in love in a way that he would possibly never be able to come back from.

In stark contrast to those memories, his conversation with Robin is still ringing in his ears, no matter how loud Danger Zone is blaring through the garage. Her voice keeps drowning out the music, telling Eddie on a loop how he is the one who has been playing a cruel game all along.

Steve is in love with him. Steve thought they were in a real, proper, actual Relationship with a capital R. And he, Eddie Munson, king of blind loser rats with bricks for brains, broke Steve's heart because he thought Steve was breaking Eddie's. Because he couldn't see past the high school stereotypes that apparently everyone around him had already long grown out of.

A nauseating cocktail of guilt, shame and repentance is brewing inside of him. He needs to get out of here. He needs someone to talk to; a voice of reason, someone to tell him what to do, someone to let him know if it will even be possible to fix this at all. Someone like Jeff.

But unfortunately Jeff also has a life of his own and he was just leaving for his shift at the RadioShack when Eddie called him in the morning, so Eddie concludes he'll have to settle for the one person he knows that is most like Jeff: Jeff's mom, who he knows is currently at home baking her famous chocolate pie.

He calls Richie to tell him there's a family emergency. Against all odds, luck is on his side this time: Richie appears at the shop to take over within half an hour and Eddie leaves the garage with screeching tires. He rings Jeff's doorbell like his life depends on it and when it finally opens he's looking into the familiar smiling face of Aunt Pauline.

She's not actually he's aunt, of course, but that's what Eddie has been calling her ever since he first met her. It was back when the word Aunt only meant the female version of Uncle, and the word Uncle meant nothing more to Eddie than someone taking care of you when your parents wouldn't. If Wayne is the father he never knew he needed, Aunt Pauline is the mother he desperately missed.

'Who's dying this time?' Aunt Pauline asks. It's a joke between the two of them that goes back ages, stemming from Eddie's tendency to ring her doorbell like a maniac every time he would show up at Jeff's house. Jeff's place was the first real house with a real doorbell that Eddie visited, and while his fascination with doorbells has faded over the years, his bond with Jeff's mother has only grown stronger.

'I am,' Eddie answers dramatically, stabbing himself in the heart with his hands.

Aunt Pauline chuckles as she steps aside to let Eddie in.

'Jeff's at work,' she tells him. 'But I'm glad you stopped by. He told me to save some pieces of my chocolate pie for you. Everything alright?'

'I have a question for you,' Eddie tells her urgently.

She raises hands covered in flour at him. 'I was kind of in the middle of something,' she tells him. 'But if you help me with my pie, you can ask me anything, how does that sound?'

'Hm...' Eddie pretends to think it over for a second. 'Okay, deal. But I get to eat as much dough as I want.'

'As long as you spare some for me, you can do whatever you want, kid,' Aunt Pauline says over her shoulder while she disappears into the kitchen.

Eddie quickly trails after her. 

'Do you remember how I always said I wanted to marry you when I was younger?' he asks.

'How could I ever forget, Eddie?' She looks at him with a fond smile while she shoves a bowl his way. 'Here, knead this while I melt the chocolate.'

Eddie takes off his rings, one by one, and proceeds to wash his hands. 

‘I wanted to marry you because you were basically perfect, you know? You always have been, for as long as I remember.'

Aunt Pauline huffs.

'What were you like in high school?' Eddie asks when his hands are covered in flour and sticky with butter.

'Huh.' She pauses, takes a moment to think before she lights the fire underneath a pan with a bowl filled with chocolate on top of it.

'I was...' She chuckles. 'I was very different from you and Jeff, that's for sure. I was on the cheerleading team.'

Eddie gasps dramatically. 'You weren't!'

'Oh, yes, I was. Got the pictures to prove it if you don't believe me.'

'No need to traumatize me with that, but thanks.'

'Hey, I looked good in that uniform!'

'Don't make me think about it.' He shakes his head, getting serious again. 'Did you do anything you regret?' he asks her.

Aunt Pauline laughs. 'Good thing Jeff isn't here,' she says with a wink. 'Of course I did. Who didn't, in high school?'

'No, I don't mean, like, dumb shit,' Eddie clarifies. 'More like... Mean shit.'

Her mischievous smile morphs into something more melancholy. 'Dumb shit, mean shit... I did it all,' she says. 'No one was perfect in high school.' That signature twinkle returns to her eyes when she adds in a teasing tone, 'Except for you, of course.'

Eddie snorts. 'So when exactly did you turn into this perfect human being?' he asks her.

'You know damn well I ain't perfect, boy,' she says, shaking her head. 'But let me give you the boring answer: growing up certainly helped.'

Her answer sinks through Eddie's ear canal towards his stomach, where it settles uneasily among the guilt and shame that were already there.

'Are you gonna tell me what this is all about?' Aunt Pauline asks him after the kitchen has been filled with silence for a while, only disturbed by the sounds of a Tina Turner record playing in the living room.

'I think I made a terrible mistake,' Eddie quietly confesses. He doesn't look at her, but instead stares at the sticky dough between his fingers. He suddenly feels like a little boy again.

'What did you do?'

'I broke someone's heart,' he says. 'Because I didn't believe he could change.’

'Oh, Eddie,' Aunt Pauline says. The way in which she pronounces his name is enough to make him tear up: not angry, not reproachful, not even pitying.

'People always keep changing,' she says. 'No one's personality is set in stone. Especially when you've only just finished high school: there's still so much to explore, so much to discover about yourself and the world. You become more conscious of who you are, and who you want to be, and what you have to do to become a better version of yourself. You can't go through life putting labels on people and never taking them off again.'

'Guess I learned that lesson exactly one day too late,' he states with a sigh.

'Hey now, listen to me, Eddie,' Aunt Pauline says. 'You will always keep changing, too. So you can take this lesson, whether it's one day too late or half a lifetime, and use it to fix your mistakes. And if that boy you're talking about has enough experience with learning from mistakes, he'll know exactly how important it is to be forgiving.'

Next part

Okay, ngl, this was definitely one of the more difficult parts to write. I hope that it sufficiently made clear where Eddie is coming from, even though it obviously doesn’t excuse what he did (and I also hope you like the addition of Jeff's mom. Idk why but every time I write about Jeff his mom just materializes. It got out of hand this time. Shout-out to my beloved Liam @withacapitalp and Cass @henderdads for giving her a cool name!) (And credits to @stevesbipanic for picking the album Eddie listens to ily)

And on another note: HOLY SHIT i genuinely cannot believe that so many people were asking to be tagged on this story! I honestly consider it a huge compliment so I’m happy to spend a few seconds adding you to the list, it’s the least I can do for someone who tells me they enjoy my writing. Buuut to make it as manageable as possible: i’d prefer tag requests in the comments and not in the tags when you reblog. I do read all the tags religiously and they all warm my heart, but it’s way easier for me when I can find all the urls in the same place :)

Taglist: @pluto-pepsi @i-less-than-three-you @estrellami-1 @epiclazershark @angelscoops @missmagillicuddy @fxndom-hoe @chaoticvictorianspirit @itsali-taken @merricatty @its-a-me-a-morgan @lilacrobin @adaydreamaway08 @starman-jpg @irethsune @starry-eyedlune @littlemsterious @7shrewsinatrenchcoat @lostonceandneverfound @a-gae-af-racoon @heartstarstar-blog @ignoretenderness @thehorrorandme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @vampireinthesun @ntwolf69 @thatonebadideapanda @jackiemonroe5512 @tinynebula @obliosworld @sleepy-time @daydreaming-mood @aizawa-emma @lenathegay @irregular-child @just-a-tiny-void @evix-syne666 @niniel-karenine @scoopstomyahoy @pearynice @bambibiest @snapshotmaestro @carlprocastinator1000 @jcmadgirl @0o-queendean-o0 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @starlight-archer @deputyheller @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @aol19 @i-must-potato @slv-333 @cupcakesnwhiskey @anaibis @stevieschrodinger  @str4wb3rry-guy @thealwithnoname @telidina @samsoble @hardboiledleggs @hallucinatedjosten @solalasoforth @theluckyalien @rainydays35 @hellfireone @neonfruitbowl @i-have-three-feelings @sc00ps-ahoy @scarletyeager @ashwinmeird @sunfloweringstories @tillystealeaves @newtstabber @kknockursocksofff @potato-of-the-lord @messrs-weasley @yourbuckingkiddingme @lazyavenuewhispers @my2amgaythoughts @pomegranate-sock88 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @says-swag-unironically @sleepdeprivedflower @pitrsattabhaadmeinjao @dididisrespectyourbridgegoatman @ineffableoutpost @ellietheasexylibrarian @g4ys0n @howincrediblysapphicofyou @zaddipax @nightmareglitter @aizawa-emma @sparky--bunny @marvel-ous-m @freddykicksasses @gingersass @turboprops69 @remingtonsposts @bushbees @justforthedead89 @honeycomblattice

[libraryofgage]

@holyangelstudentuniverse requested the following: Steve working at Bath & Body Works while Eddie is the mall pianist?

I love it omfg, your brain is fantastic I hope I did the idea justice

(if you see any typos no you didn't <3)

The old food court pianist was...okay. Technically, she was good; she knew how to play and rarely made mistakes. She was also clearly just there for the bi-weekly check (not that Steve can blame her), and her playing reflected that. The piano became the ideal white noise, loud enough to lessen the awkwardness of any silence but not so amazing that people couldn't ignore it in favor of conversing with each other.

The new food court pianist? He's a fucking enigma.

He's very clearly skilled, and he seems to actually enjoy the job. He plays like Billy Joel and Elton John met one night, had a piano contest, and then had a baby to create the perfect pianist. He's great and energetic and can play anything from Mozart to fucking Cardi B, and Steve wishes he'd quit already so he can actually focus on his own shitty mall job instead of getting absorbed in the guy's playing.

"You should just hook up with him," Robin says one day, hip-checking Steve as she passes by with a box of Cherry Blossom products. She restocks the soap bottles first, then the perfume, then the lotions, and finally the tiny hand sanitizers with their shitty little plastic flip-caps that Steve swears break for the fucking fun of it.

Steve, meanwhile, is replacing last week's sales signs with new ones. They're the exact same. They rarely change, actually. The only difference is the "expiration" date at the bottom, which changes if only to continually sell customers that sense of urgency that results in them buying $50 worth of products they'll forget about until the holidays come around and they need white elephant gifts.

He's almost done, too. All that's left are the signs by the metal gate pulled down over the store's entrance. They'll open it in about an hour to prepare for the mall's opening, but for now, it's staying down to discourage the mini-bodega clerk in the middle of the hall from flirting with Robin and trying to sell her shitty perfume like she can't just steal shitty perfume from Bed Bath and Beyond at the end of the day.

He waits until after he's switched the sign to turn around, arms crossed over his chest. His back is to the gate, and Steve would normally be too fucking paranoid about a blind spot to withstand it, but he's in argument mode.

"I barely know the guy," he says.

Robin snorts as she crouches, stocking extra hand sanitizers in the tiny drawers at the bottom of the shelf. "Yeah, but I know you, dingus," she says, her voice light and bouncing. "You hear the guy's muzak version of a Lil Nas X song and you're ready to marry the guy."

"I can just recognize artistic ability! Have you ever tried to make a pop song sound like a classic?" he asks.

"My point," Robin says, pushing some hair out of her face, "is that you should ask him out. Maybe you two can play piano together."

If she hadn't already heard it before, Steve would be immediately launching into an explanation of why that wouldn't work. Steve has never met someone he liked or trusted enough to actually play with them. Sure, he's tried playing with a partner before if only to say he gave it a shot, but it sucks. Especially when you don't like the person. You're squished together on an uncomfortable bench, sharing sheet music, elbows bumping as you both try to reach the proper keys to keep the song from sounding horrendous. It's Steve's personal version of hell on earth.

But Robin has heard that rant before, so Steve graciously spares her from hearing it again. For now. Until he's drunk, probably.

"What, I'm just gonna waltz up to the piano and ask if he's free on Saturday? Or, I don't know, try some dumb pick-up line like asking if he comes here often?"

"I'll be honest, it's not the worst pick-up line I've heard."

Steve and Robin jump, both whipping their head to look at the grate to see the food court pianist grinning at them (well, more specifically, he's grinning at Steve) from the other side. He's wearing a button-down black shirt with ripped skinny jeans, old Converse, and more accessories than Steve can count. There are chains on his jeans and a guitar pick hanging from his neck and an ear cuff and a stud through the edge of his eyebrow and so many chunky rings that Steve could use as an excuse to stare at his hands for an hour.

Robin is the one who breaks out of the shock first. She jumps to her feet and walks over to Steve, resting her arm on his shoulder and leaning against him. "But would it work?" she asks.

The guy grins wider, obviously looking Steve up and down to check him out before looking at Robin. "From Stevie here? Yeah. He's really rocking the apron," Eddie replies, winking at Steve.

Steve is about to ask how the guy knows his name, but then he remembers the name badge on his apron. He clears his throat, tearing his eyes away to glance down at Robin.

She seems to be having the time of her life right now.

"Well, uh, I'd prefer to know your name before trying any pickup lines," he says.

"Eddie Munson at your service," Eddie says, bowing to Steve with a dramatic flourish that he finds more endearing than anything else.

One look at Robin and her scrunched nose tells him she thinks it's a little over-the-top and, dare he say, cringe. Her opinion doesn't actually matter, though, since she'd be down bad for any girl that curtseyed at her.

Steve looks back at Eddie, noting the now expectant gleam in his eyes. He can't help an amused smile as he says, "Well then, Eddie," Steve says, stressing his name a little just for the fun of it, "come here often?"

Robin groans next to him. "Fucking hell, Steve," she mutters, slapping him upside the head. "I know you suck at flirting but you really couldn't come up with something better?"

"No, no," Eddie tells her, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm into it."

"And I'm out of it," Robin says, raising her hands in surrender before scurrying back to her Cherry Blossom products.

She's definitely still listening, though.

Steve rolls his eyes are her reaction and focuses back on Eddie. "So, uh, are you free on Saturday?" he asks.

"Completely free," Eddie says, taking a step closer to the gate and shoving his hands into his pockets. "How about lunch?"

"Yeah, I know a great pizza place."

"It's a date then," Eddie replies, winking at Steve. "By the way, any song requests?"

Steve blinks and thinks for a minute before asking, "Do you know Vienna?"

Eddie's grin tells Steve that he does, in fact, know Vienna. "Vienna it is." With that, he winks at Steve once more before heading back to the food court.

"That was painful," Robin says once he's far away enough.

Steve rolls his eyes and flips her off. "You're just jealous I've got a date and you're still too chicken shit to approach the Nike girl."

Robin practically squawks at him. "Oh, fuck you," she says.

"I'll leave that to Eddie, thanks," Steve says, laughing when Robin gags.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I was just thinking about how I apparently have the same taste in women as my dad. Can you imagine Steve finding out his parents have a lavender marriage? Also, imagine him flipping his lid when he realizes his dad's taste in men kind of looks like Eddie and his mom's taste in women kind of look like Nancy. Robin, who found out at the same time, was there too. He turns to her.

"Robin!" He squeaked. "I have the same taste in people as my parents!"

Meanwhile, Robin is on the floor laughing her ass off. She sat up for a moment, gasping for breath as tears came, and pointed at him. She collapsed back on the floor, still pointing.

"Robin! This isn't funny!" Steve squawked.

"It's a little funny," Eddie said, snickering.

Oh, yeah, Eddie was there too.

"Eddie, if my dad was younger, he would go for you!" He yelped.

"And I would be very flattered, but baby, you're the only Harrington I want," Eddie replied. "There's nothing to be jealous of."

"I'm not jealous! I'm freaking out!" Steve said. "We. Have. The. Same. Taste."

John Harrington came waltzing into the living room, whistling.

"You want a scotch, son?" John said. "A nice glass of scotch always calms me down."

"No, I do not want a scotch, dad," Steve bitched at him. "I hate scotch."

"See, now, there's something," John said. "Your mother and I both love scotch. We don't have exactly the same tastes. Now, if you want to, you can have the house to yourself. There's a nice bar in Indie your mother and I like to go to."

"Is it the one with all the goofy shit on the walls?" Eddie asked.

"Yes!"

"Robin and Steve like to go there too!" Eddie said, and Steve slapped a hand to his face.

"Well, we're just going to get out of your hair. Edward, don't get my son pregnant. His mother isn't ready to be a grandmother yet," John said and walked out of the room, waving at them.

"I LOVE your dad," Eddie cackled.

"I thought you said that I had nothing to worry about," Steve scowled and threw a pillow at him.

"You know, your mother kind of looks like Robin," Eddie said, scrunching up his nose.

"Does this mean that we're destined to have a lavender marriage of our own and have a turkey baster baby too?!" Robin exclaimed with a gasp. "Because I'm telling you right now I am not pushing your big headed baby out of my vagina!"

"Well, if you give me your gender, Buckley, I would gladly do it myself!" Eddie exclaimed. "It's really very selfish of you."

Robin glared mockingly at him before hitting him with a pillow, which resulted in a pillow fight. Steve rolled his eyes at the ceiling.

[carolmunson]

8✨ with virgin Eddie cos he’s the loml

'I look you in the eyes, I try to read you thoughts. I ask you to go with me, to a far off place.' virgin!eddie (well, not so virgin anymore) from the 'the nerve' one shot. (18+, references to drinking. implied stancy wedding.)

Eddie didn't really love to dance. He always felt awkward, never really getting the beat to anything that wasn't related to a guitar slung across his chest. His hips always moved too jerkily, he never knew where to put his hands. When Mrs. Mitchell from across the park tried to teach him to waltz for prom he stepped on her toes so much she needed a brace.

It didn't even matter for anything, he didn't go to prom. That's another reason he doesn't like dancing, or dances. Couples nuzzling close while they hold their partners -- what was the point when no one was gonna dance with 'The Freak' anyway?

He drums his fingers along the white cloth covered table to the beat of the DJ's thumping music, sipping his third glass of pinot noir. You had stepped out to run an errand for Nancy and Steve after the ceremony, 'maid of honor' duties you called it. Something about fashion tape and bandaids for blisters. While the music slows down he feels his heart sink, another dance where he sits alone in the low light. It comes back to him in a haze, two months before his senior prom -- He woke up early to take a shower and shave the little facial hair that had started to grow on his upper lip and chin. Painstakingly finger coiling every wave on his head with gel he knicked from the five and dime down the street. He asked Wayne if he could borrow his smart black button down and Wayne even pressed it before he left for work the night before -- hanging it up in the living room by the mugs. He wore he least ratty jeans and cleaned his Reeboks with a toothbrush and bleach. Eddie had never felt more together, more sure, and if he would say so himelf -- more handsome than he did that morning.

He cracked open his campaign notebook to the last page where he'd scrawled a script he'd been working on for at least two weeks:

Hi Chrissy What's up, Chris? How are you, Chrissy? Hey Chrissy.

I know you might not be expecting this but This might come as a surprise, but I was wond It would be an honor if Would you want to go to prom with me? Prom?

It was the first time he was ever at a loss for words. Tripping over himself any time she'd ask for a pencil in Bio or walk by the drama room on her way to cheer practice.

He stopped at Melvald's for a small bouquet of daffodils -- it was all they had that morning, and made his way to school, stomach full of butterflies while he played the potential outcome in his head over and over. He knew he had to have caught her looking every now and again. Giggling at his jokes in class. Always asking him for a pencil or a ruler when she could ask anyone else.

He parks in the spot furthest from the school, using the brisk walk to calm his nerves. With a few rolls of his shoulders he pushes through the main doors to his locker, only four down from Chrissy's. She'd be there any minute, ponytail bouncing, lips glossed.

He leaned against the wall, checking his watch and each end of the hallway, a flurry of students making their way in and out. The humdrum of the morning making his heart beat faster, the slamming of metal, the sneakers on the tile.

And there she is -- a blonde beacon of something special. She's smiling -- grinning. Looking right at him. He gets up off the wall, heart racing -- This is it Munson, he thinks, you're gonna ask her.

Chrissy's smile turns into a jump, a celebration of sorts -- and from behind him, another cheerleader appears, running up and jumping with her. They hug tight, screaming the way girls do when they're excited about something.

"He literally made a sign for the whole team to hold on the field!" she titters, "I can't believe he asked me!" "You're going to prom with Jason! Ahhh!" her friend screams back.

Going to prom with Jason.

Jason Carver? That asshole?

The hallways spins, his heart has never dropped so fast before. He'd never felt something so fast before. Dissappointment? Embarrassment? Rage? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that Chrissy was going to prom with Jason Carver, and everything he planned was for nothing. Just standing there in the hall way with --

"That's a pretty bouqet, Eddie," Chrissy voice floats by, bringing him back to himself, "Whose the lucky girl?"

Coulda been you, he thinks.

His face sours, "Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie's heart breaks again when she backs off, making her way to class when the bell rings. He chews on the inside of his cheek the whole way out of the school and back to his van -- making sure the shove the daffodils in the trash on the way out.

Right now feels the same, the only young guy sitting around while couples get up and jump around to Whitney's I Wanna Dance with Somebody when the music switches. He finishes his glass of pinot, sighing while he stands up to get another at the bar. He knows better, but something his gnawing in the pit of his chest -- that ache. He wishes you'd come back so he didn't have to keep putzing around like a lost puppy. Even Dustin had Suze out on the dancefloor.

Another ten minutes pass and he's settled back down at the table, the speakers rumbling down to a slow beat again, Luther Vandross's gentle croon floating over the room. Eddie swallows.

'Always and forever, Each moment with you, yeah Is just like a dream to me That somehow came true, yeah...'

It's then that he feels a warm hand on his back, sliding up to his shoulder, nails gliding comfortingly into the back of his hair. "Hi handsome," your voice like salve on his heart, "Did you miss me?" He turns, entranced by the way your dress hugs you and the scent of the perfume you have on tonight. There was no denying he picked right, no denying that he was right to wait for you this long.

"Of course, sweetheart," he smiles, smiling into the kiss you lean down to give him.

"You've just been sitting here while I was gone?" you furrow your brow, "C'mon, get up. Come dance with me."

He flushes, "No, no I'm...I'm not good at it..."

"Neither am I," you shrug, offering your hand, "C'mon."

He looks at your manicured nails, the bare finger that he wants to put a ring on now more than ever, then up at you. That little smirk you give him has never sold him quicker. With a deep breath he takes your hand, letting you lead him to the dance floor.

"Y'know, I've never slow danced with anyone," you say quietly, guiding his hand to your waist while you hold the other close to his shoulder. Eddie pulls you close, nose to nose, toe to toe. He can handle the gentle sway you start him with, a slow two step, winding bodies.

"Not even your ex? Seriously?" Eddie asks, mesmirized by your glossy lips.

"He never wanted to dance at the weddings we went to," you shrug, "Always thought it was lame. But I like to dance."

"What about prom?" he asks.

"I um," you look down and back up at him, "I didn't go to prom."

"No? How come?"

"Uh," you offer a tight smile in rememberance, accepting it, "No one asked me."

Eddie stops moving, hand holding yours going to your cheek. "No one asked you?"

You shake your head, "It ended up being okay, had a movie night with some other weirdos."

He remembers his own anti-prom with the guys, pizza and beer that he got Rick to buy for him.

"But it's okay," you reassure, "Cause now I get to have my first slow dance with you."

"We're doin' a lot of firsts together, aren't we?" he teases.

"Yeah," you nod, "And this is like, y'know, kinda like prom." "Sort of," he laughs, pulling you tighter, two stepping again to the rhythm. You give him a mischevious smile, teashing.

"Are you going to the after party? I hear they're gonna have winecoolers," you joke.

Eddie grins, boyish, "Oh yeah, yeah, I'll be there."

"Good 'cause uh," you lean to to whisper, giggling at your own bit, "They're gonna play seven minutes in heaven."

"No way," he gasps in fake astonishment, "Is there uh -- is there anyone you're hoping to land on?"

"Well um," you flick your eyes as him flirtily, "There's this one guy."

"This one guy?"

"Yeah and I was hoping like, after the dance." you continue in an exaggerated Valley Girl accent, "We could like, make out after."

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, voice deepening, smoky.

"Yeah."

"Yeah, we can um," he leans in to kiss you, deep and slow, "We can definitely make out after."

[dearharriet]

yooo could you write a oneshot of fem reader and eddie??? maybe with a angsty prompt, like they share some sort of trauma together but have been friends for a while & eventually realize they love each other?

i actually love how this one came out :) ty for requesting! 🫶🏻(1.2K) (cw: mentions of death)

The hand pushing your hair back is cool against your flushed skin, and it slows the tears little by little. Eddie is shushing you softly and holding your hands—or, you’re clinging to his, and he’s letting you.

Something always comes over you in the fall. The smell and the colors, it’s all too reminiscent. Small memories that gleam with nostalgia flutter around the Big One, shrouding it and then revealing it all over again. It’s hard to decide which you’re crying for.

Looking up at Eddie, you can tell he’s worried sick. You muster a wobbly smile for him, and he laughs kindly.

“Y’feeling better?”

You nod and close your eyes, and his delicate petting becomes more open-handed on your hairline. Sucking in a breath, you let the homey scent of his trailer ground you.

“Wasn’t so bad,” you remark. “This time, at least.”

“Mm-mm,” Eddie hums, wiping your damp cheeks. “Just a little one.”

Eddie would know. He’s been holding your hand through these episodes since they started.

“Do you want to go?”

To the quarry, goes unsaid.

As kids with little supervision and even less money, there weren’t many places you could go that weren’t home. The quarry became your solution. Even now, in your early twenties, diners or cinemas never give you the same relief.

Still, you shake your head. The tin roof over your head seems to contain the mountain of unhappiness well enough, and it was never really about the place.

“I wanna stay here,” you mumble. “Could we lay down?”

Eddie looks mildly shocked, but he doesn’t miss a beat.

“‘Course we can, sugar.”

Smiling tiredly, you let him walk you to the couch. You rub your face into the matching pillow as you lay down on your side, reveling in the familiar itch. Instead of laying down with you, Eddie ducks into the kitchen to get you water.

“Y'know what I’ve been thinking about, Eds?” Phlegm clogs your nose from the crying, becoming noticeable as you raise your voice to be heard across the trailer.

“Me?” Eddie asks, his tone teasingly hopeful. The faucet runs and then stops.

“How did you know,” you gasp. Eddie waltzes back to the couch with a grin.

“S’just common sense.” Eddie hands the water off to you, and fusses his way under your legs as you drink your way through half of it.

When you settle back in, on your back this time, Eddie’s looking at you softly.

“What were you thinking about?”

The thought felt so grandiose—you were hoping to shout it into existence when he wasn’t looking at you. Fingers fidgeting, you try your best.

“Um. I was thinking,” you start, “about your mom.”

Eddie’s face shifts, just barely.

“About mine and yours,” you say. “And…”

This is so stupid.

“I wondered if they’re off being best friends, just like you and me.”

Expression falling, Eddie pats your leg sympathetically.

“I don’t know that my mom deserved a friend like your mom, sugar.”

Something about his voice plants a longing in your chest, and his cold rings soothing your calves nurtures it further. It’s almost unbearable to be close to him like this.

“But maybe that’s what she needed,” you argue, though it’s barely a debate. You’re both too tired and limp and honest.

“Maybe your mom needed someone that would believe in her. Maybe she needed someone to save.”

Eddie presses his lips together, and you realize what you’ve implied a little too late. That Eddie wasn’t worth caring about, wasn’t worth saving. You backpedal immediately.

“I’m sorry, that’s not—“

“No, I know,” Eddie assures, reaching to brush the hair off your face. “I know.”

A small, sad smile creeps over you. It’s unfathomable how Eddie has learned any kind of tenderness in his short life, yet it seems to flow out of him like he can’t hold anymore. You will never understand how he’s become an unwilling pariah to a town that knows nothing about him. Maybe now, with his intense aura, but as an eleven year old boy?

Your chest houses a battle of emotions, a hurricane you can’t control. You take Eddie’s hand from your face.

“I wasn’t really thinking about our moms,” you admit. Eddie frowns. “Or I was. But only because I was thinking about you.”

Hand tightening around yours, Eddie asks, “How so?”

“I..I found that Rock ‘em Sock ‘em we stole in seventh grade. I was cleaning under my bed and I found it in an old box and I—“ You suck in a breath, shaking your head. “I couldn’t believe how old it was, or that I still had it. I…I can’t believe how long I’ve known you. Ten years.”

A glance surges between you, fraught with memories and potential.

“I was thinking about who I’d be if I’d never met you. Who you would be. If we’d even like each other—“

“‘Course I’d like you,” Eddie insists, adding a second hand to clasp firmly over your intertwined fingers. His voice is fried and shaky.

“And I was thinking—“ you continue, “—about how you came at the perfect time.”

Your turbulent emotions start to overflow, and a tear slides into your hair.

“I think our moms must have planned it.”

Eddie laughs wetly, and you realize belatedly that he’s crying, too.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “maybe.” His free hand takes your face again, and he’s nearly laying on you now. Laughing, he starts wiping your tears away all over again.

“What’s funny?”

His laugh picks up more, and you can’t help staring at his mouth, his teeth. His tongue, when he speaks.

“I’m fuckin’ sorry your mom died and all you got was me.”

Frowning, you shake your head ardently.

“Worth it,” you murmur, and Eddie’s smile turns, half pained, half awed.

“Yeah,” he whispers, grazing his thumb over your eyebrow. “Yeah, I think so, too. I’m sorry if that’s selfish.”

There’s real guilt there, but real relief, too—like he’s been holding the thought too close for too long. Fingers tracing his nose, his mouth, you say, “Eddie?”

He hums, completely involved in you. Fear and passion and impatience spin a merry web in your throat, but you push through anyways.

“Is this love?”

You’re not sure which comes first, his smile or yours.

“God, I hope so,” Eddie speaks reverently, playfully. “I can’t wait much longer.”

“Me, neither,” you croak, caught between crying and laughing.

You shimmy down while Eddie crawls up, and then it’s like every closed door is open. Your fingers are in his hair, and his hand is warming over your waist. His lips are on yours, tender and searching.

“Do you still have it?” Eddie asks, nose still rubbing yours. “The Rock ‘em Sock ‘em?”

You laugh brightly.

“‘Course I do. On my dresser.”

Beaming, he nuzzles his nose into your cheek, pressing rapid kisses on your skin.

“We gotta dust that baby off. Bet you I could still kick your ass.”

“What d’you mean ‘still‘? I did all the ass kicking!”

Eddie shushes you, sarcastically condescending.

“Ohhh, sweetheart, no. I think your memory is a little foggy.”

You try to push him away, feigning annoyance, but he wedges his way back into your arms.

“Whatever. I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

“We will,” Eddie agrees, “later.”

Then his mouth is on yours again.

+

thank you for reading!

masterlist

[aphrogeneias]

fantasy, right? kissing under the stars at a planetarium date <3

The floor of the room was hard under your back, but you felt as if you were laying on a cloud.

That was how Eddie made you feel, before he even thought of asking you on a date. You felt light, free, under his ever watchful gaze. It didn't make sense that such intense eyes would make you feel at ease, but they did, and they do.

That afternoon, though, you couldn't look at him as he was staring right into you. The artificial night sky shone above you like a million fireflies, stars and constellations gleaming on you. They moved in a slow circles, stealing your attention from the boy lying beside you.

You tried to distract him. "Do you know why it's called the Milky Way?"

Eddie looked up for a moment, at the swirls and twists of our galaxy waltzing over you. "'Cause of the chocolate bar?"

"No, but that would be a lot better, actually." His joke derailed your thought process, making you giggle. "Actually, Zeus tried to make his wife breastfeed one of his bastard chidren while she was asleep, but when she woke up and pushed the baby away, her milk spilled... all over the galaxy, I guess."

He shrugged, "Metal as hell, if you ask me."

"Still beautiful though," You mused, "isn't it?"

"Yeah." Except he was not looking at the supposed spilled milk being projected on the ceiling, he's looking at you. "Real beautiful."

Giggling again, you finally let yourself glance back at him, realizing just how close you were. You, with both your hands resting on your tummy, and him, with one his hands behind his head. When he moved forward, stealing one last look, you let him place a peck to your lips.

Milky sweet.