#Later eddie comes and comfort him

[nymime]

Im blasting my radio with sad songs, but spanish sad song.

And i just imaging hispanitalian Steve Harrington singing while crying “Señoras” songs that his mama like/listen because Eddie went to a date with some guy he meet on Indianapolis.

And he sing with Pimpinela, Roció Durcal, Gloria Trevi, Ana gabriel, La oreja de Van Gogh, etc.

————————

Robin was worried and a little mad with Steve. The older didn’t come to his turn on Family Video, he even didn’t call her after the plan Steve had to confess to Eddie.

She sigh and look over the clock onto the wall, ten minutes more and Robin can left and go see if Steve was okay. To the sound of the bell on the door and this hitting the big window, Robin jump and look over there, only to see the kids and a piss off Eddie.

“Robin! Robin! Did you see steve?! He didn’t come to search for us after hellfire!” Dustin makes his fast way where the mention one was, looking concerned and sad.

“No, he didn’t even call me last night.” Robin play nervously with her fingers, pinching her cuticles nearly making them bleed. “I was planning go to his house and see him.”

“Good, check out earlier and let’s go.” Max demands to the only older girl there.

Robin look again the clock, nine minute more, she can go nine minutes earlier. “let’s go.”

______________________________________________________

They make it to Harrington State, or the castle, how Mike and Eddie calls it. Robin knock the door, no respond, she do it again, no respond, she back up looking around for a emergency key, she found it under a big leaf of a plant.

She opens the door and they all jumps to the loud sound of music and singing that comes from upstairs, Robin look at the group, they enter and follow the music.

“YA LO VES, LA VIDA ES ASÍ”

“TÚ TE VAS Y YO ME QUEDO AQUí.”

“shit, someone really passionate about this song” mike comment with a half grin on his face. “what language even is this?”

“Spanish, if i can guess.” Eddie responded vaguely.

“¡LLOVERÁ, Y YA NO SERÉ TUYA!” a loud sob comes after that. “¡SERÉ LA GATA BAJOOO LA LLUVIAA. Y MAULLARÉ… POR TI!” “the last vocal expand but broke for heavy and louds sobs and laments, the voice was familiar.

They all look each other until see over the open door of Steve rooms, who was in the floor rounded with chocolate wrappers and nose-rags, the brunette let out an ugly whimper that makes the group shiver, they never seem Steve like this.

Another song start to play, Steve let out another whimper.

“Tu eres la tristeza y de mis ojos.”

“Que lloran en silencio por tu amor.”

“What we can do?” ask Dustin softly to Eddie, who bites his lip and didn’t answer.

“¡…Obligo a que te olvide el pensamiento! ¡Pues siempre estoy pensando en el ayer!” The crying boy let out a lament with his eyes closed, Steve blew his nose and continue to sing along the women in the Vinyl with tears still running down his face.

The group just backwards and left him be, maybe tomorrow he is okay.

After a while of leaving on eddie’s van, Lucas let out the question that everyone was thinking.

“Hey, since when Steve knows spanish?”

_________________________________

The two song i mention are “La gata bajo la lluvia” and “Amor eterno” - Roció Durcal.

Both song are really good and makes me cry, the first come out in 1981 and the second in 1984. So, thinking of Steve following Roció Durcal for his hispan side just makes me kicks my feets.

Edit: i just correct little mistakes of grammar i made. This was wrote at 4 am.

I just sleep 2 hours. I enjoy so much Latino/Hispanitalian Steve Harrington.

#steve is a sweetheart #steve harrington #steve stranger things #stranger things #imagine steve harrington #steddie #steve deserves the world #steve harrington angst #italian steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #hispanitalian steve harrington #hispano steve harrington #latino steve harrington #steve harrington sings when his sad and heart broken #the next day he wasn’t fine #he’s still crying for eddie. #Later eddie comes and comfort him #just because eddie finally connects the dots and his gonna admit his feelings to steve until thia one dies of dehydration #they become a couple #eddie still apologize for making steve cry for two days. #He apologized taken steve out in a great first day and fucking him with love. #Eddie adore steve after their first date #After adore him eddie fuck steve to subspace #eddie was piss off in the start cause the kids makes him miss the date

[lovebugism]

hi!! could you write shy!reader where Eddie bumps into the new kid at school and she gets hurt? I’m a sucker when it comes to Eddie doting on people 🙈

i tried to be so normal about this request but then proceeded to write 2k words for it so... hope you like it lol :D — the hawkins high freak takes the new girl under his wing after they run into each other. literally. (shy!r, meet ugly-ish, hurt/comfort, 2.2k)

You clutch a paper schedule in a pair of anxious hands, squinting to see through the scribbles there. Three boys in bright green lettermans made a total mess of it — writing directions in chicken scratch and doodling a sloppy map of the school over your classes. They said they were helping you, but really they’ve just turned you all around.

Fallen leaves crunchbeneath your feet as you walk past the vacant football field. West of the bleachers and down the dirt trail, the stranger with a harsh jawline and quaffed blonde hair told you. His directions lead you directly to a half-decrepit building in the thick of the woods. A strange spot for a biology lab.

You’re trying to make sense of the scrawled notes on your syllabus — eyes narrowed, and chin tilted downward — when you run into something tall and firm. You don’t hit the warm body hard enough to fall, but stumble back in fear enough to slip on the dewy grass. Like a cartoon character and a banana peel, you land comically on your ass.

“Shit. Sorry,” the towering stranger grimaces. “Didn’t see you there.”

Your wrists start to sting, burdened with the weight of catching your fall. “It’s okay…” you tell him anyway. ‘Cause everything’s always okay. Even when it isn’t. 

A ringed hand enters your vision then — lanky, pale, and tattooed. “Here. Let me help you up.”

“It’s okay,” you dismiss with a shake of your head. “I got it.”

Your jaw clenches tight as you rise on your feet. The slippery mud threatens to pull you down again. Your wrists throb with a dull and distant ache. You stand, despite all that, before the stranger you’d stumbled into the back of. 

Eddie watches you wipe your dirt-covered palms together with a lopsided smile tugging at his mouth. He doesn’t have a clue who you are, but he’s getting a few ideas now. You’re a strong, stubborn, and shy little thing. Pretty, too. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he cautions with his palms spread awkwardly in front of him. He wants to make sure you’re alright, but he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Strong, stubborn, shy, and definitely skittish, he thinks to himself.

You shake your head again, finally glancing at the boy looming before you. His curls are dark and untamed, billowing in the early spring breeze. His deep chocolate eyes match the color of the frizzy strands — both equally as wild as the smile he looks at you with.

Your breath catches suddenly in your throat. You hadn’t expected to bump into him, of course, but you expected even less for him to be so pretty.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say okay,” he interjects before you can start. His plush lips quirk in a genuine smile a second later, to show he’s only joking.

You swallow hard, still hopelessly trying to rid the mud from your aching palms. “I’m… I’m— I’m fine.”

The boy scoffs a faint laugh. “Here. Let me see.”

He takes your wrists in his hands before you can protest. His fingers are long, gentle, and strangely warm as he brushes the mud off your scrapped skin — hardly flinching when it dirties his own. 

He wipes his palms on his jeans after, never minding how it stains the denim. Then he reaches a leather-clad arm behind you and plucks a leaf gently from your hair. He flicks it to the ground again.

“There,” he grins. “Good as new.”

“Thanks…” you sigh, voice wavering from a reason you can’t name.

“Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“‘Cause I’m… I’m new.”

“Explains why you’re all the way out here,” he jokes. Most people only come around this side of the football field to buy weed off him, and you don’t exactly seem like the type. His chocolate eyes narrow. “You lost?”

You shift on your feet, feeling suddenly very silly about the whole thing. You’ve got to be a special kind of stupid to take advice from a bunch of jocks and hardly bat an eye when they lead you in the exact opposite direction. You’re too trusting for your own good. It’s embarrassing.

“I was, uh— I was just trying to follow this map, but…” you wave the paper in your clammy hand. “I think it just made me more lost.”

Eddie reaches out a ringed hand and takes the schedule from you when you hand it over. His face scrunches softly together as he squints at the sloppy scribbles. You can’t tell if he’s confused or if he needs glasses. Maybe both.

He can hardly make sense of the directions. And the map was designed in a very obvious attempt to confuse you — the sweet, shy girl who’s never stepped foot here before. Something redhot simmers in his chest ‘cause he can’t imagine doing this to someone. Finding someone who obviously needs help and doing them over for a couple measly laughs.

It’s got Jason Carver and the Dick Brigade written all over it. Literally.

“Who gave this to you?” he asks anyway, just to be sure.

You blink up at him with a pair of doe eyes, gaze glimmering with innocence. “Um… A couple of basketball players, I think. They were wearing lettermans, so…”

“Fucking Carver,” the boy grumbles under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing…” he sighs. “Here. C’mon. Let’s go.” 

“Where— Where are we…” you mutter in a mousy voice, trailing off when he stomps past you. You get a faint whiff of floral shampoo and woodsy cologne as he goes. Less inclined to stay alone in the unfamiliar forest, you decide to follow behind him. “O-Okay…”

You fight to keep up with his considerably longer strides as the stranger leads you back towards the school. His dark eyes flit over your schedule, squinting to see past the messy lettering covering the typeface. 

“No point in making it to your third period,” he announces suddenly, swinging the heavy metal door open with a ringed hand. The rusted hinges squeak in protest when he holds it open for you with his foot. You slide in past him. He walks on ahead of you again, letting the thing slam shut behind him.

“Why?” you ask the back of him, voice wavering.

“‘Cause you’re already fifteen minutes late. And take it from me— Mr. Kaminsky hates when people are late,” Eddie tells you, flashing you a stern look over his shoulder. “Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”

Your brows pinch as your face swirls with a distant panic. You couldn’t conceal your worry if you tried. The gravity of it all hits you, then — the fact that you’re following a stranger you ran into (in the most literal sense of the phrase), who’d previously been half-hidden away in the forest behind the school.

It’s all a bit odd when you think about it. This. Him. You. 

But this strange boy, dripping in silver and all black, is the very first person to show you an ounce of kindness all day. You don’t know why you’re following him so blindly — only that you don’t mind it as much as you should.

“Okay. So. Uh… Where are we— Where are we going, then?” you squeak behind him.

“Right here,” he answers, stopping short in the middle of the hallway. 

Still a few paces back, you don’t hopelessly bump into the back of him like you did before. You watch with wide and curious eyes as he wraps a pale hand around a rusted door knob. The heavy wooden entrance squeals when he opens it.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” the boy jokes with a crooked grin. Everything about the pink expression glitters with mischief. He flicks on the light switch, letting the flourescent lights buzz on in protest. “Well, not abode— I don’t live here, but… You get it.”

The room smells overwhelmingly teenage boy. A mixture of cologne, sweet soda, and sweat. Most of the chairs have been stacked on top of each other and pushed to the edge of the room to make space for the long wooden table in the center. Binders, notebooks, and miscellaneous figurines sit scattered on a gameboard.

“Is that D&D?” you wonder quietly.

Eddie lights up at the question. “You play?” he asks as he saunters to the desk shoved in the very back corner of the room.

His excitement makes you regret your answer. 

“No…” you waver, then quickly follow. “But I’ve— I’ve heard about it.”

“I’m president of the Hellfire club,” he tells you, nodding to the poster on the wall. The demon in the center of it isn’t nearly as intimidating when you can tell it’s handmade. “You should join.”

The boy eyes you expectantly as he rounds the metal desk. You shift your weight on your feet and wring your clammy hands together. He tilts his chin to his chest and peers at you from underneath his lashes. “Think about it?” he presses.

You nod once. “Sure.”

He ducks down then, out of view behind the bulky desk. You stand awkwardly in place while the boy rummages through the drawers. “Ah, here we go…” you hear him murmur after a few moments — followed by a dull thud when he bangs his head. “Shit!” he swears under his breath before rising to his feet again.

You hide your smile behind your scrapped palm as he walks back over to you. His cheeks glow faintly pink as he rubs the crown of his head with his hand — the one not clutching a first-aid kit. “Here. Shit down. Let me look at your hands,” he urges, still worried about you despite his throbbing skull.

You shake your head rapidly in response. You’re not used to being doted on like this — or at all, really — but especially not from a metalhead, wild-haired, pretty-faced stranger. “No. I’m— I’m okay.”

His chocolate eyes go wide and softly stern. They glimmer playfully down at you as his brows raise behind his fluffy bangs. “What we’d just talk about?” he teases.

You swallow down the rest of your protests. “Right…”

You sit in the chair adjacent to the one at the head of the table. The cheap plastic is a stark contrast to the heavy wooden throne the stranger descends upon — with a sort of ease that tells you he sits there often.

He digs into the opened first-aid kit and pulls out a bandaid for you. He fumbles with the packaging for a moment before ripping it open with his teeth. 

“It’s okay not to be okay, you know?” he tells you, mostly muffled until he spits out the paper in his mouth. It lands on the floor at his feet, but he doesn’t seem inclined to pick it up. “Tell me I’m a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going. I know that’s what you’re thinking.”

Your face screws in offense. “I wasn’t—”

“I’m teasing,” he interjects softly, peering at you with a pair of button eyes. “Even though I am a shithead who needs to watch where he’s going.” He takes your palm between his warm and gently calloused ones. He smooths the large bandage over the raging scrape below your thumb with an impossibly delicate touch. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. Again.”

“It was my fault,” you murmur, gaze averted to the boy’s kind hands — at the six tiny bats tattoed in the junction of his thumb and forefinger. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a scrape, anyway, I can handle it.”

“Agree to disagree,” the boy says with a lopsided smile, brushing his thumb over the bandage to smooth it out. He gives your fingers a small squeeze before he parts from you. “There you good. Good as new.”

Your hands buzz with the longing to feel him again. You bring both of them to your lap, wrenching your fingers into a knot and hoping your face doesn’t look as hot as it feels. “Thank you…” you murmur, trailing off when you realize you don’t know the kind stranger’s name.

“Eddie,” he finishes for you.

“…Eddie.”

“You can stay in here with me if you want,” he offers with a nonchalant shrug — trying to be cool despite his thundering heart. “Third period’ll be over in, like, twenty minutes. I can walk you to your next class— you know, make sure all the freaks leave you alone.”

You purse your lips to the side of your mouth in attempts to hide the beam tugging there. It only halfway works. “That’d be great,” you tell him in a mousy voice. “Thank you…”

Eddie swallows hard and leans forward again. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the musky cologne on his neck. His face hardens into a gently solemn look. 

“And don’t… Don’t hang around Jason Carver and his goons anymore, okay?” he tells you, sounding like he’s half-pleading. “Those assholes that fucked with your schedule? They’re bad news.”

Feeling like he must know this better than anyone else, you nod firmly in response. “Okay,” you answer, though it comes out in a whisper when the word gets caught in your throat. Something about having Eddie to you is making your body go all funny. It’s weird.

“Stick with me, okay?” the boy smiles, pink and pretty and petaled, as he slouches back onto his throne again. “I’ll take care of you.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #eddie munson imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

[steddielations]

There’s a dog that comes around the trailer park when Eddie moves in with Wayne, back when his head was shaved and his eyes were still haunted by the walls of his dad's house. No one wanted to play with the gaunt looking weird kid, so the first friend he made in Hawkins was this big brown dog, way bigger than any others. It was almost scary, wolf-like but he acted like a puppy, nudging Eddie with his snout, cheering him up, always wanting to play like maybe it was lonely too.

Then Eddie made friends at school, the dog visited less as he got older and more sure of himself, denouncing cliques, especially the jocks who lorded over everyone. The dog stopped visiting entirely and Eddie started to worry something happened to it.

Years later, he spots it with Robin Buckley of all people. She’s talking to it, which might seem strange but Eddie always felt like the dog was a good listener too. After that, he tries to find his old friend again and one night, he catches a glimpse of him but he disappears into the woods.

Instead, Eddie sees Steve Harrington later that night, disheveled and dirtied, total opposite to his usual pristine polos and perfect hair. It’s so out of place, the first of many times that Eddie sees him while out looking for the dog. Eddie never says anything, can’t imagine Steve reacting well to a moonlight conversation with the freak. Sure, Steve was iced out of the popular crowd for reasons all around the rumor mill, made an odd match with Robin at their mall job before the fire, and weirdly enough the new Hellfire boys seem to worship the ground he walks on, but Eddie has no impression of Steve beyond that.

Then Chrissy Cunningham dies in his living room. Eddie runs like hell, terrified and ashamed, hiding in the boathouse. He feels like a scared kid again and finds himself wishing for the dog, his first friend that never judged him and always made him feel safe.

That’s when an unlikely group shows up and Eddie has no time to hide, like they tracked him there by scent. Steve Harrington rushes right to him with big brown puppy eyes that feel so familiar somehow, so comforting. Stunned, Eddie lets Steve wrap him in a warm hug, nuzzling his ear with soft assurances, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m so glad we found you. You’re okay.”

To Eddie's amazement, his body just melts into Steve’s embrace, like greeting an old friend.

#secret born-werewolf steve anyone #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #werewolf steve harrington #rueswriting #mp

[urhoneycombwitch]

eddie x latebloomer, virgin reader (so not self-projecting...) who isn't innocent or typically what people say is "virginal" (because virginity is a construct!) but still gets super nervous about heavy petting/sex because they've never done it before and don't want to be bad or weird and literally just flees at the confrontation

until that ovulation hits and r! is trying so hard to ignore it, squirming on Eddie's couch/bed and he's like 🤨 you ok? and then it just comes out in a whole word vomit that he's super hot and they're absolutely soaked but don't know what to do and it probably won't be good and they should just go home and eddies like... no big deal, I'll just eat you out, no penetration 🤷🏻

and when they do actually have sex later, I know Eddie talks R through it

ty for suggesting this anon! u got me inspired here's a lil blurb. also dedicated to @wdsara48 who asked for more inexperienced!reader content 🫡

+18 mdni: Eddie’s a bit clueless about the hormone cycle, oral (r receiving), cumming in pants (guess who), ovulation horny (™)

____________

On second thought, it was probably a really bad call to visit your boyfriend when you were this horny.

Which sounds silly, you know it does- who wouldn't want to visit their hot boyfriend at a time like this?- but you've really been enjoying taking it slow this time around. Eddie is the first boy you've dated who has totally and completely earned your trust when it comes to sex- he's never once pressured you to take your heated make-out sessions any further, pulling back and unwinding himself from you with spit-slick lips every so often to gauge your comfort level.

Is this okay? How are you feeling? Wanna take a break?

So kind. So considerate. So far away, in the kitchen, humming to himself while he fixes dinner, hair loose and curling around the shoulders of his tight Metallica tee. Every time he reaches over to stir the pot of chili on the stove, the lean muscles in his upper back and biceps curl and flex.

Hormones are flushing hot through your body, the couch you’re seated on feeling more and more confining by the second; you cross your legs at the ankle in an attempt to stave off the fidgeting, but when this causes the thick denim of your zippered jeans to press into the ache between your legs you are quick to uncross them again.

There’s a low-toned buzz that’s taken up residence in your hearing, like all the raging horniness has no place else to go- which is why you don’t hear Eddie the first time he speaks.

He’s standing at the edge of the living room now, hands on hips, one dark brow raised in your direction- “Earth to angel. You with me?”

“Huh?” You swallow harshly against the dryness in your throat (contrasted with the excess wetness in other places) and shake your head, slipping your hands underneath your thighs to sit on them and ground yourself a bit. “Sorry, I was zoning out. What’d you say?”

“I said you seem antsy tonight,” Eddie repeats, moving in to sit next to you, close enough for your knees to touch. “Had too much coffee or somethin’? Y’know, you really shouldn’t drink that stuff after noon. Not good for ya.”

He’s teasing, all smooth movements with an easy grin as he snakes an arm around your shoulders.

The smoke-sweet smell of his cologne floods your senses- musky and heady and this underlayer of something earthy, wild, that you could swear hits on a primal nerve by the way it makes your clit throb.

When you stiffen under Eddie’s arm, he reads your signal as one of discomfort, tsking at himself underneath his breath before starting to pull away. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to make you-”

“No!” Your hand darts out to grab at his over your shoulder, keeping him from leaving, because if the warmth of his body pressed to your side stops you might actually die. “No, it’s not you. I promise. It’s me. I’m…”

Eddie watches you with mild concern as you flounder, mouth opening and shutting a few times before settling on just the truth- “I’m ovulating.”

He blinks. “Um. Shit. Do you need to go to the doctor? ‘Cuz the main office is definitely closed this time ‘a night but the ER is for sure open-”

You bend at the waist, pitching forward with a groan and cutting him off. With hot cheeks buried in your hands, your voice comes out muffled- “Didn’t you take sex ed, like, three times?”

“Sure did. Learned basic anatomy real well.” His palm has slid to your lower back, your shirt ridden up to expose a stripe of skin that his warm hand now rests on. “Help me out, princess. What’s goin’ on?”

With a pounding heart, you manage to sit up, looking down at your hands in your lap as you whisper, “Ovulation makes me, like, super horny.”

At first, you think he didn’t hear you, but after a beat of silence there’s a subtle shift in his posture, spine straightening.

“Oh.” Eddie’s hand on you doesn’t move but his other one smoothes down the line of his jean-clad thigh, clearing his throat before asking, “And do you wanna… do something about that?”

Mustering courage, you swivel slightly to look at him- the joking tone from earlier has drained out of his voice, and this is the shyest you’ve ever seen him: staring unseeing at his own lap, plucking at the knee of his jeans.

“Like what?” You ask, matching the same low tone he’s just used.

When Eddie looks back at you, that’s when you realize your mistake- his lack of eye contact wasn’t due to shyness. The way he’s looking at you now, dark chocolate eyes holding a steady gaze, it’s a wonder he’s been so restrained this whole time. 

“Could eat you out. Only if you wanted, though.”

You shiver. Visibly. 

A slow, half-tilted smile pulls at Eddie’s lips; he brings your free hand to his face and kisses your knuckles, then tugs you up with him to stand.

“C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

Cast in soft lamplight, Eddie closes the door to his room before cupping your face in his hands, cool rings against your cheeks. He kisses you gently, at first, plush lips notching in steady rhythm against yours; when you tug him in closer by his waist and slip your tongue between his teeth, he groans into your mouth.

He pulls away, wet click of your separating mouths loud in the quiet of the room before giving your hip a light tap. “Up on the bed, angel.”

You’re quick to comply, crawling backwards on the duvet, lust unfurling in your stomach as you rest half-propped on your elbows.

Eddie divests himself of his shirt in one fluid motion without taking his eyes from you. His pale skin gleams in the low light, silver chain and guitar pick necklace swinging as he moves to hover over you.

“You okay?” He asks, dark hair a curtain around both your faces as his bare torso presses against your clothed one. 

When you nod, he ducks to kiss you again before sliding a hand up your shirt. “Good. ‘Cuz I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

You know he’s mostly joking- you and him have a safeword, and he’s always attentive to your body signals- but the pure desire that he’s kissing and touching you with is indicative of a boy who’s waited too long to be able to have you like this.

Eddie laps at your mouth, tongue twining with yours as his hand squeezes and molds the fat of your breast through your bra as both your nipples stiffen in response. When his knee slots between your thighs, you moan, hips jolting up to chase the friction.

“Can I…” you’re panting, forehead crushed to Eddie’s as you search for the words. “I want your mouth, on me- please.”

You’re rarely ever so communicative, usually hidden away behind a wall of reservations that are totally melted away now. Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched, sucks at a spot behind your ear that causes your hips to rock forward again, then says, “Yeah, sweetheart, yeah. You can have my mouth. Fuck.”

While he kisses down the slope of your neck, between your clothed breasts, your bare stomach where your shirt’s been rucked up, he’s muttering (to himself, to you, hard to say): “‘Course you can have my mouth. Have it wherever you want it. Christ. Should’a asked for it sooner. Give you anything you want.”

Eddie pops the button on your jeans and you lift your hips so he can pull them completely off your body; when he sees the wet patch of arousal darkening your baby blue underwear he chokes out another curse before working the fabric down your hips and tossing them to the ground.

“Gonna let me taste you, baby?” he asks, stretching his lower half out on the mattress and pulling your legs over his shoulders, his mouth inches from your soaked core. Eddie looks up at you, face bracketed by your thighs, pupils blown out with desire, waiting for your go-ahead.

“Please,” you murmur, stretching out a hand to pet at the crown of his head.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment with your touch; when he presses a kiss to the top of your cunt, your hand tightens in his hair, his resulting hum of encouragement vibrating against your clit.

Eddie flattens his tongue and licks a wide stripe up your folds, spreading the wetness from your leaking hole up to mouth sloppily at your clit; when he sucks the bundle of nerves into his mouth, your elbow supporting your half-propped frame gives out and you pitch back against the covers.

“There- ah- shit, there, Eddie…” you sound wrecked already, voice husked with the strain of holding back whines. Normally, you’d be so in your head about the exposing condition you’re in, but at this point you’re too wound up to care, Eddie’s tongue against the beating heart of you coaxing that tightness in your stomach closer and closer to snapping.

His nails bite in where his hands span the width of your thighs, holding you against his mouth even as your legs tremble and hips twist jerkily with each sweep of his tongue; Eddie gives one last suck to your clit then follows the line of your cunt down, down with his tongue to prod at your sodden entrance.

When his tongue slides into you with a wet squelch, obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, you both moan in tandem- your hand in his hair tightens to near-brutal, and the bed underneath you both tremors with the jolt of Eddie’s hips rutting into the mattress.

He sets a steady pace with his tongue, fucking it in and out of you as his nose nudges against your clit. That coil in your stomach is starting to make all your muscles tense up, your thighs locking Eddie in place (who seems to only be spurred on with each constriction of your body).

“Gonna come?” The lower half of his face is coated in your slick as he takes a brief pause to kiss at your inner thigh, one hand coming to rest on your tummy, pinning you down. “C’mon, baby. Let me see it.”

Your body obeys, tension snapping as his mouth returns to your cunt, a high whine of “Eddie Eddie Eddie” that you don’t bother to hide this time loosening from your throat as everything around you bursts and crashes into orgasm.

Toes curling against Eddie’s lower back, cunt spasming around his tongue, Eddie fucks you through it and then some, his own hips mindlessly grinding down as your release triggers his own, spilling warm into his boxers while your high spirals out.

When the spams of your pleasure turn over into aftershocks, Eddie comes up for air, pressing one last kiss to your overstimulated cunt before crawling up your body to lie on top with his head in the crook of your neck.

“Fuck,” you say aloud to the ceiling, breathless, arms automatically encircling the boy. “Holy shit.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie’s breath cools over the sticky patch he kissed into your skin, his mouth still wet with your release. He gathers enough energy to plant his elbows on either side of your head, looking down at you, suddenly serious. “So um… how often do you get ovi- ovel… like this? Once a year or somethin’?”

The laugh shakes out of your chest before you can stop it; you reach up to tuck Eddie’s curls behind his ears, your previous bashfulness having been tongue-fucked out of you.

“Eddie Munson, do I have news for you.”

#lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie x inexperienced!reader #eddie munson x you

[unfinishedslurs]

aware of his bisexuality steve (steddie, buckingham)

“Is that a hickey?” Comes out of Steve’s mouth without permission. But there it is, bright purple and red against the slope of her neck. She’s been walking kind of funny this morning, too. He’d assumed her period came early, but… “Rob, did you—“

Eddie fumbles the coffee mug he was pulling down. Chrissy freezes, face turning white with fear. Robin whips around, face bright red, and slaps a hand over her neck. 

“Bathroom!” She yelps. “Bathroom now!”

“Wait,” Eddie says, setting the mug down with trembling hands. “It was me. Sorry, man.”

Steve stares at him, unimpressed. Why the fuck would he lie about—

He looks at Chrissy again, who takes a nervous step back, and it clicks. 

“Right,” he says, nodding quickly. “You. You gave Robin a hickey. Had totally awesome sex that she didn’t even tell me about.” He directs that last bit at Robin pointedly. He told her almost immediately when he lost his guy-ginity. Traitor. “Yep. Sure. Got it.”

Eddie blinks, confused. Robin buries her face in her hands. 

“Oh my god, calm down,” she groans. “That’s not going to work. Steve’s cool.”

“Cool?” Chrissy asks, still looking ready to bolt. 

“Super cool,” he assures her. “The coolest. So incredibly cool, even if my best friend didn’t even tell me when she lost her virginity.”

“Steve!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he says. “But I am going to need details, Buckley. We can go over what worked, and what needs more oomph.”

“Oh my god, can we talk about this anywhere else,” Robin groans, at the same time Eddie asks, “What, so you can get off on it later?”

“What,” Steve says. 

“You think two girls are hot, is that it?” He’s got a sneer on his face now, but Steve’s more observant than Dustin gives him credit for. Even if he wasn’t, it’d be hard to miss how hard his hands are shaking, the nervous tilt to his mouth. 

“Ew.” Steve’s face screws up. “Dude, no. It’s Robin.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Robin breaks in, from where she’s started comforting Chrissy. “You thought I was hot for at least a summer.”

His mouth drops open in betrayal. “We agreed to never talk about that again!”

“Can’t help being sexy,” she coons. Chrissy giggles wetly. “You wanna get married, Harrington? Have my babies? Stay home and raise six little nuggets while I bring home the bread?”

“I hate you,” he informs her. “Hate you so much. We’ll have a nice, heterosexual wedding and share a sad, heterosexual kiss, and you’ll carry me over the threshold of our nice, heterosexual house, and we’ll have boring, heterosexual sex that gives us nice, heterosexual babies, because we are so heterosexual and happy in our suburburban house in our nice little heterosexual town.”

He’s honestly kind of proud of himself for saying heterosexual so many times. Usually he fumbles words with that many syllables, especially after that many times in a row. 

Chrissy is outright laughing, now, endearing little snorts making their way between giggles. Eddie is looking between them like they’re a puzzle he can’t piece together. Robin grins.

“I’ll cuck you with the secretary.”

“Not if I cuck you first. You’ll be away all day in that office of yours, and I need someone big and strong to carry all the new furniture I ordered.”

“I knew it! I knew Timmy wasn’t mine!”

“Oh, but I couldn’t help myself,” he swoons. “Mark was just so sweet, with his bulging biceps and hand flexes, all hot and sweaty from helping poor little me while you were away! You know I’m weak to curly hair and brown eyes, Rob, how’s a man supposed to resist?”

“Fag,” she says, not without affection. 

“Dyke,” he shoots back. 

“Cocksucker.”

“Carpet—“

“Okay,” Eddie breaks in, clapping his hands. He and Robin both startle, and so does Chrissy from where she’s been watching them like a particularly interesting tennis match. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Robin lost her virginity and didn’t even tell me,” Steve says immediately, like he’s tattling to the principal. 

“Steve doesn’t seem to understand the concept of waiting,” Robin retorts. 

“I told you when I had gay sex,” he whines, and Eddie chokes. “I hate you. See if I ever give you tips again.”

“Oh, is that what you meant?” Chrissy asks. “Please don’t stop. They were good tips.”

Robin flushes all the way down to her toes. 

“You like boys?” Eddie wheezes. 

“Oh,” Steve blinks. “Yeah? I thought you knew.”

“You thought I—how would I know?”

The fuck is that supposed to mean? Steve’s been flirting with him for months!

“Robin always says we can sense each other! You sensed her.”

“You told him?” Eddie’s mouth drops open, and Robin looks sheepish.

“She didn’t have to,” Steve snarks. “You’re flagging in Hawkins, man. Was I supposed to miss it?”

“You know what flagging is?”

“Again, in case you missed it, I fuck men.”

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters. “Fuck! Christ, I can’t believe this. You’re, like, the epitome of heterosexual. I spent half of high school having to hear about how much pussy you were getting. Why are you not straight?”

“Wow, Eddie,” he deadpans. “Are you saying just because I like men and woman, I’m not queer enough? That’s kind of homophobic of you, man.”

“Yeah, Eddie, wow,” Robin says. “I thought you were better than this.” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie says. “I feel like I need to lie down. My entire worldview just shattered.”

“I have a couch?” Chrissy offers shyly. “Or a bedroom, if you need a minute away.” Fuck, Steve kind of adores her. Especially since she’s apparently vicious n bed, if the five other hickies he counts just from Robin bending down a little to whisper in her ear are any indication. Good for her.  

“Don’t worry, Eddie,” Robin says, with a glint in her eye that means he’s either going to love or hate what comes next. “If it helps, Steve’s never fucked a man in his life.”

Eddie’s brow furrows, looking between the two of them. “So…you’re just making fun of me?”

He looks a little angry now, and Steve can’t make heads or tails of this conversation because, “What the hell, Rob, yes I have—“

“Oh, so suddenly you’re the one doing the fucking?”

“Stop making fun of me for taking it!”

Eddie lets out an honest to god moan that he immediately slaps his hand over his mouth to cover up. “Right,” he says fervently. “Okay. I need to lie down, like, for real.” 

They watch him stride down the hall, so fast he’s almost running, and slam the door closed behind him.

“I could totally top,” he mutters to Robin as something that sounds vaguely like muffled screaming echoes down the hall. “I top girls all the time. It’s not my fault prostates are a gift from God.”

“Uh, you top because all the girls you fuck are from small town Indiana. If one of them brought out the strap you’d drop to your knees so fast—“

“That’s—I like topping!”

“Your favorite position is cowgirl. Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“I will show Chrissy your baby pictures,” he hisses. Robin makes a face at him. Chrissy nods excitedly from where she’s still tucked under Robin’s arm. 

“Oh what’s that?” Robin practically shouts. “You like being pressed against walls and ravished? You want someone to tie you up and have their filthy way with you? Is that what you said, Steve?”

Another noise from the bedroom. He narrows his eyes at her. “What are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says sweetly. “You’re both hopeless.”

“I told you he’s shy!”

“Eddie?” Chrissy asks. “Shy?”

“Yeah, okay, I was confused too, but I figured it was the romance! He told me he hasn’t actually been in a relationship before, I assumed he was nervous to take that step.”

“Yeah, but dingus,” Robin says sweetly. “You’re missing a puzzle piece here. He thought you were straight. He thought he was flirting with his straight best friend he didn’t have a chance in hell with, and then he finds out that said best friend likes taking it up the ass and men with brown eyes.”

“Oh,” Steve says, realization dawning. “Oh, fuck. What if he doesn’t like me like that?”

Robin smacks the back of his head. “Why are you stupid?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Chrissy says. “Like, really don’t have to worry about that.”

“I’m not coming over tonight,” Robin says. “I’m gonna stay with Chrissy again. Er…if that’s okay?”

“That sounds amazing.” Chrissy beams, and Robin turns red again.

“Yeah, I’m going to stay with Chrissy again tonight. You are going to invite Eddie to stay the night when he gets done with his little crisis, and then we’re getting lunch at the diner tomorrow and you can tell me about it before our shift.”

“Right,” Steve says. “Right, I can do this. I’ve invited guys over before, how hard can it be? It’s just Eddie. But that was hotel rooms, not my house and my bedroom with my shitty wallpaper. And it’s Eddie. Fuck, what if I’m shit at it? Robin, what if I’m actually bad at sex and everyone who’s ever said I was good was lying because they didn’t want to hurt my feelings? Oh my god, I’m totally bad at sex.”

“Woah, dingus, slow down. I think we took the mind meld too far, you’re turning into me.”

“If it helps, I don’t think you’re bad at sex,” Chrissy says. Steve and Robin look at her, and she flushes. “Because of the tips! Not because—I’ve never slept with you, but some of my friends did, and I got three orgasms out of last night, so…”

“Oh thank God,” he breathes. “I was worried for a minute.” Then he raises an eyebrow at Robin, and holds out his hand for a high five. She slaps it, begrudgingly proud of herself, and then takes the hand to pull him into a headlock that’s honestly more of a hug than anything. 

“You’re fine,” she whispers in his ear. “You’re great at sex, as you keep telling me. What’s more, you’re funny, charming, handsome, brave, caring—“

“Aww, Robin, are you getting sappy on me?”

“Plus Eddie literally moaned in front of you when he found out you bottomed. I really don’t think there’s a way to fuck that up.”

Steve grins. “He did do that. I’m going to make so much fun of him later.”

“So,” Eddie says with a smirk, “men with brown eyes?”

“Hey man, don’t look at me. Blame Jonathan.”

Now Eddie looks stunned, mouth dropping open. “Byers?” He says, sounding betrayed. “You have a crush on Byers of all people?”

Steve feels offended on Jonathan’s behalf. “What’s that supposed to mean? Jonathan’s a good guy!”

“I guess.”

“What do you mean you guess? He’s sweet, passionate, good with kids, nice eyes. Can pack a punch. I mean, what’s not to like?”

“Uh, didn’t he steal your girlfriend?”

He waves that off. “That was, like, years ago, man. We’re cool now.”

“Right, okay,” Eddie mutters. “Well have fun with Byers, I guess.”

It clicks. “Oh,” he says. “Oooh. You’re jealous.”

Eddie splutters. “Jealous? I’m not—I don’t—you’re jealous!”

“Oh, am I?”

“Yes,” Eddie says resolutely, not looking at him. 

“Right,” Steve agrees. “Well, if I am jealous, maybe I should know that I got over Jonathan years ago, and have since moved on to brighter, hopefully more attainable pastures than my ex’s ex.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“A different man with brown eyes?” He suggests. “Who is also good with kids, and passionate, and…” he trails off, suddenly realizing all those times Robin made fun of him might not be based on nothing. “Oh my god, I have a type. Shit, I have to tell Robin she was right.”

“I figured that was a common occurrence.”

“Shut up. Where was I going with this? I had a point.”

“You were telling me how awesome I am?”

“Oh, suddenly it’s you we’re talking about?”

“I mean,” suddenly Eddie looks shy, and Steve can’t help but think even with the change in context he might have been right when he told Robin Eddie was nervous about being in a real, romantic relationship, “isn’t it?”

He feels himself smile, slow and wide and probably more revealing than he means it to be. “Yeah,” he says, in a tone he knows Robin would call soppy, “it is.”

#technically all my bi steve fics have him aware he'd bi but for the purpose of naming we'll call it that #aware of his bisexuality steve au #i am ALWAYS jonathan was steve's awakening truthing #steddie #buckingham #i think that's their ship name? #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #accidental outing #i'm not really a bottom steve truther but i thought it would be funny for this #stranger things fanfic

[scoops-stevie-archive]

Steve sits on his bed as his heart threatens to beat out of his chest. He just sent Eddie home with the promise he'll call after everything is calmed down.

If he doesn't get kicked out first.

Half an hour ago they were getting ready for bed and kissing each other goodnight when a surprised "oh!" from his doorway makes them jump apart, Steve's mother standing there wide-eyed and a hand covering her mouth.

Now Eddie's gone and Steve's left alone to listen to the muffled argument coming from downstairs.

"—another boy, Linda! If this gets out—"

"Give the boy some credit, John. He's smart. By the looks of it this wasn't just a one time fling." His mother pauses and then says something that has Steve straining his ears to try and hear over the blood rushing.

There's a knock on his door a moment later and Steve wants to cry. If only she'd done that earlier. She steps in and closes the door behind her. Gingerly sits beside him. He keeps his eyes locked on his hands in his lap.

"Steven."

Her voice is gentle but it still makes him flinch. She sighs.

"We're not mad, Steven."

Steve lifts his head. "What—"

"I won't say it's something we saw coming," she continued. "It's a shock to us both."

His eyes are wide, darting around her face. "But— I— What about dad?"

Linda looks almost thoughtful. "Your father... He'll come around, give him time." She puts a hand on his knee. It's a comforting weight and it grounds Steve a little. He leans into his mother's side a little.

She tuts at him, "Oh, Steven," and wraps her arms around him and he buries his face in her shoulder, taking deep, steadying breaths. They sit like that for a few moments before Linda pulls away. Both of their eyes are a little red rimmed.

"Your father does want to talk to you before bed, though."

.

He stands outside of his parents' bedroom and knocks, his hands shaking.

"Come in."

Steve opens the door. His father is unpacking his suitcase and putting clothes back on their hangers. Before he can even get a word out, his father speaks.

"Have you been seeing that boy long?"

Steve nods. "Yes, sir."

"How long?"

"Almost a year. About eight months."

John pauses, but continues to unpack. He doesn't speak any further but Steve knows its not the end of their conversation. He stands by the door and tries not to fidget, feeling much like the little boy who stood in the same exact spot as he was scolded for breaking an expensive vase on accident.

Then, his father asks a question that completely floors him.

"Do you love him?"

Steve blinks. "What?"

"That boy," John clarifies, "do you love him?"

Steve’s answer is immediate: "So much it scares me sometimes."

The expression on his father's face is a complicated one. He sighs and moves to sit on the bed.

"What’s his name?" he asks, patting the spot beside him.

"Eddie," Steve answers, slowly moving forward to sit beside his father. "Eddie Munson."

"Munson," John says thoughtfully, trying to place the name.

"His uncle said he went to school with you and mom," Steve says helpfully. "Wayne Munson."

John hums, his brow furrowed. "Hm, I don't remember much of him, but I do remember his brother making quite a ruckus." He looks at Steve. "Does he treat you well?"

"Like I'm made of glass," Steve says quietly, cheeks flushing, phantom caresses of Eddie's fingers tickling across his skin.

John studies him for a moment before sighing. "I just want you to be happy, son," he says, surprising Steve. "And if this boy— Eddie— is the person that does that, then... That's good enough for me."

It takes a minute for Steve’s mind to catch up with his father's words. He gape, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, and John laughs and pats his knee before standing.

"Close your mouth and go call your boy, I'm sure he's pacing by the phone worried out of his mind. Invite him over for dinner tomorrow night so we can meet him officially."

Steve practically runs downstairs. His mother gives him a look as he quickly dials the number he knows by heart.

Eddie picks up on the second ring.

"Stevie?" He sounds frantic, just like his father suspected. "Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?"

Steve laughs, feeling lighter than he has in years. "I'm okay, you don't need to do that. Um..."

John comes into the kitchen and stands behind his mother, the two of them giving him encouraging smiles.

'Ask him,' his mother mouths. Steve flushes and turns slightly away from them to have some privacy. He has a feeling this will be happening a lot more in the near future.

"So, listen, um. Don't make any plans for tomorrow night..."

#steddie #cj writes #steddie ficlet #hopping on the 'steve's parents aren't perfect but they mean well' train #cj talks #steve harrington's parents

[ddejavvu]

eddie brock wanting to go out with reader, so she dresses up but venom takes over and compliments her in his own weird ways <3

Your ring nearly snags a thread on the inside left cup of your dress, and you carefully retract it before it can tear the garment. There's a lace edge beneath your bra that's itching something fierce, and you can't wait to take the dress off tonight.

Or, of course, have it taken off of you.

"Eddie?" You call through the apartment, now peering down at your necklace as you try laying it against your chest in a particular way, "Ready to go, babe?"

"Yeah," He calls from the kitchen, the soles of his dress shoes clicking against the wood floor as he comes to find you, "I was thinking we could- woah."

His abrupt stop makes you glance up, and he's got his eyes glued to your dress. It's a new one, a rich brown hue that drapes down your frame like you're a modern-day Jessica Rabbit.

I take it you like the dress," You laugh, watching Eddie's cheeks go pink. He needs a moment to recover, and you're patient enough to give it to him, but venom isn't.

With a series of ungodly squelches the symbiote envelops your boyfriend, sharp, jagged teeth already set in a grin that barely holds back his massive tongue. His eyes are narrowed and it makes his grin that much more predatory, a look that sends a shiver down your spine.

"I do not know why Eddie will not talk." Venom leans in, hulking figure crowding your own smaller one, "But I want to. You look delicious. You look like chocolate."

"Yeah?" You grin at Venom, fingers fiddling with the silky fabric of your dress, "Thanks, Venom."

"Do you know what I do to chocolate?" Venom leans in farther still, until you can feel his breath fan over your face. He's intoxicatingly large, and your vision is entirely taken up by him.

"I do," You laugh, reaching up to cup his cheek, "I've found enough massacred remains of hershey bars around this place to know you're not gentle with them."

"I would like to do that to you." Venom's tongue comes out to lick over his teeth, a slimy, dripping, circular path, "But for your comfort I think that we should do it on your bed."

"Not right now," You lament, leaning your forehead against his and kissing the space where his nose should be, "We have to eat first. But maybe you can arm wrestle Eddie for me later, big guy."

"I would win an arm wrestle." Venom boasts, thinking literally instead of picking up on the broader meaning of your words, "Eddie is a weak loser."

"A weak loser who's paying for my dinner tonight," You pinch at Venom's arm, though you're sure it doesn't hurt him, "Lemme see him again, V. We can't be late to this place or we'll lose our table."

Venom is very polite with you. He follows orders seamlessly, shrinking back into Eddie until the man's tanned skin breaks through the black goop that had been swarming it. He's on you in an instant, hands against your hips and nose knocking into yours, "You think I'm a weak loser?"

"No!' You laugh, kissing the smile he's trying to tamp down in the name of dramatics, and wriggling from his grip to grab your helmet off of the counter, "I just think Venom could beat you in an arm wrestle."

"It's true," Eddie calls after you, jogging to catch up as you head for the door, "But it's not nice!"

#eddie brock x reader #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock scenario #eddie brock oneshot #eddie brock one-shot #eddie brock one shot #eddie brock headcanon #eddie brock headcanons #eddie brock hc #eddie brock hcs #eddie brock fanfiction #eddie brock fanfic #eddie brock fic #eddie brock x you #eddie brock x y/n #eddie brock x reader fanfiction #eddie brock blurb #eddie brock drabble #eddie brock dialogue #venom x reader #venom x you #venom x y/n #venom fanfiction #venom oneshot #venom imagine #venom drabble #venom blurb

[kiwi-bitchez]

Double Down, Triple Threat 

Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader

Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 

Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 

Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.

Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together

A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #smut #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction

[taintedcigs]

we’d still worship this love — e.m.

part two of even if it’s a false god.

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI. p in v, cr*ampie, unprotected s*x, angstangstangst, eddie regrets everything!!, jealous eddie, a bit of protective steve, drinking, swearing, praises, nicknames, fluff!!

summary: in which eddie regrets what he said to you. (wc:6.3k+)

a/n: literally the lyrics match up soooo well w the story imo im sorry for the last line ok i rlly tried to hold myself back not to directly write any lyrics lmao. this is CHEESY. i hate THE ENDING. as usual! but im so glad u guys liked pt. one and i didn't want to deprave any of u !!! i did not proof-read so pls ignore any mistakes!! hope u guys enjoy this lmk what u think mwah!!

Eddie sighed as he checked the kitchen, you were still nowhere to be found.

He had fucked up.

So badly.

He grabbed the half-empty red cup sitting on the kitchen stand. A whiff of alcohol hit his senses as soon as he tried to sniff it; it reeked, but Eddie didn’t care at this point, downing it like it was water.

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes sitting in his back pocket, walking miserably toward the backyard as he lit the cigarette sitting between his lips.

“Let’s get you to Steve’s, yeah?” The voice that passed by him was quick to grab his attention.

Robin.

“Robin?” He exclaimed excitedly, causing Robin to mouth “Don’t”.

He took a step to get closer to you but stopped quickly in his tracks; he had caused enough fucking damage.

He made his bed, and now he needed to lie in it.

He watched as you and Robin left, leaving him all alone. 

2 HOURS LATER

DON’T ANSWER: im so fuckhjing sorry

DON’T ANSWER: i didnt fuckingmeanit lije that i swear

DON’T ANSWER: pls talk to me

DON’T ANSWER: r u at steve? i can come

DON’T ANSWER: pleaseeeeee we can’t leave things like this. 

You heaved a sigh reading his texts, he was drunk again, and you weren’t going to entertain him.

You blocked this contact. 

“He’s texting me.” You groaned, chucking your phone away as you plopped yourself onto Steve’s bed.

“What did he say?” Steve asked curiously.

“He wants to see me and talk, he’s drunk again.” You replied curtly, head still filled with the words he uttered to you.

“I just… I can’t believe he’d say that.” Robin chimed in, shaking her head.

“I could. He’s an asshole.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah… but I always thought he had a soft spot for you.” Robin muttered.

You chuckled dryly. “He has a soft spot for my body.” You crinkled with disgust.

Robin shook her head as she spoke. “No, I mean it, Y/N… I really don’t believe he meant it like—” 

Steve was quick to interrupt. “Jesus, Robin, stop making excuses for him. I know he’s your friend and all, but he fucked up. And there’s nothing he can do now to ever take back the things he did to her!” He exclaimed, the two of them started bickering back and forth. 

You wanted to sink into the bed; you so badly wanted to believe Robin, believe that Eddie’s words were all just a lie, just something he made up on the spot just because he was afraid. 

But Steve was right—even if it was a lie, even if it was all a huge misunderstanding, nothing he could do would undo the amount of pain he caused you. The nights you spent sobbing—nothing could change that. 

But a part of you also knew that, if Eddie ever caught you in a moment of weakness again, you’d do it all over again; you’d let him ruin you all over again, just to have him complete you for the mere seconds he made you feel loved. 

The bickering and the storm in your mind stopped with a sudden knock on Steve’s door. 

The three of you looked at each other in unison.

Shit.

Did that stupid bastard really have the audacity to come here? 

You looked over at Steve with pity, about to open your mouth and beg, plead with him to do something, and he was quick to understand your train of thought. “I got this.” He muttered, hand squeezing your knee for comfort before he attended the door. 

As soon as the door swung open, there he was, blood-shot eyes and messy hair framing his face. He was shitfaced and could barely stand against the door frame. “Munson.” Steve affirmed sternly. 

“W—where is she?” Eddie slurred, barely even letting Steve speak. 

“She’s not here.” Steve said without letting Eddie take a look. 

“Look, man… I know she is, please—” He tried to push past him, but Steve stood his ground, blocking his way before his face turned cold. 

“She doesn’t want to see you.” Steve almost hissed, the intensity of his gaze taking Eddie back. 

“Don’t make this any harder and just leave, yeah?” Steve muttered, almost shutting the door before Eddie’s heavy boots interfered. 

“Please.” Eddie pleaded, making Steve huff as he threw a quick glance your way, and you quickly shook your head, mouthing ‘no’s.

But that was it; Eddie barged in as he used Steve’s distraction to his advantage, you gasped when the door swung open, revealing Eddie. 

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, his gaze held guilt and relief. Guilty because of the fact that he uttered those words to you. But, relieved that he saw you, relieved that he could finally explain himself to you.

Yet you looked at him with such disgust that it ached his heart, putting on a heavy ache on his chest. Every breath he took now felt like a struggle. 

“Don’t!” You seethed when he took a step toward you, Steve was quick to jump to your defence, but you waved him off. 

“Leave.” You could feel your face grow hotter with rage each time you spoke, you didn’t want him here, you wanted him to disappear from the face of the earth. 

“I’m so fucking sorry.” That was all that left his lips, his eyes were glinting with sadness, and his bottom lip trembled with guilt. 

“You have the nerve… You have the fucking nerve.” You chuckled dryly, tongue rolling inside your cheek in anger. 

“Please... Let me just explain,” He slurred. 

His drunkenness made you more angry.

“I don’t want you to!” You hissed.  

“I told you, I’m fucking done, Munson.” You spoke calmly, tears were threatening to spill, but you held your ground. 

“One fucking minute, I swear—” You heaved a sigh, and another angry chuckle escaped from your throat as you looked at Steve, as if to tell him to kick him out, signaling for help. 

“Alright,” Steve muttered. “She doesn’t wanna talk, Munson.” He spoke calmly as he held Eddie’s arm, trying to drag him out. Eddie’s protests fell deaf on your ear as you plopped yourself on the bed again, crying into Steve’s sheets as Robin played with your hair to reassure you. 

1 MONTH LATER:

Thirty fucking days.

Eddie was going to lose his mind. 

Blocked from everywhere, and you avoided him like the plague.

He knew he deserved to be shut out; he knew he didn’t deserve you. But even crumbs of information from you would have eased him.

Steve and Robin had been useless, except for today. Except for that cryptic message Robin sent him about you being at the party today. And he praised his lucky stars for that.

Until he made it to the party.

Until he finally saw you.

With Mr. Jock pinning you against the wall as you giggled at his unfunny jokes.

Jesus fucking Christ. 

Don’t make a scene, Eddie. Don’t fucking make a scene—

His lips pressed together, jaw quick to clench as he couldn’t help the way he almost sprinted toward you. He didn’t know if it was out of pure jealousy, or the fact that he had missed you so goddamn much that he couldn’t stray away from you anymore. 

“Hi, honey.” Eddie said sarcastically and chirpily, jealousy dripped from his tone, and he couldn’t help the intense gaze he had on the asshole. 

You froze in your place as soon as you recognized the voice. What the fuck was he doing? 

Standing between the two of you, “Who’s this?” Eddie spat, his hand aggressively pointing toward him. 

You rolled your eyes before you turned to him. “Don’t,” You warned, your brows shooting up and a fiery flash apparent in your eyes. 

“Who are you?” He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, and as if Eddie had been waiting for him to provoke him further, he gave a smug smirk. Body turning to face the asshole.

You panicked, and the ever-so apparent tension in the air grew thicker “No one.” You replied quickly, avoiding Eddie’s lingering gaze. 

“Really? You’re gonna play that card, princess?” He gave you a dry chuckle, jealousy gnawed at his insides. 

You squeezed your eyes shut to save yourself from embarrassment, but he wasn’t going to stop until this jerk wasn’t at your side. 

“That’s not what you were saying the last time I saw you—” You were quick to cut him off with a warning gaze, your eyes widening. 

“Eddie… This—this is Ethan.” You said through gritted teeth. 

Eddie mocked a realization face, and you wanted to punch that smirk off of his stupid smug face. “Oh…” He laughed all-knowingly.

“That Ethan? The jock?” You narrowed your eyes, annoyance setting over your face, and you couldn’t handle the heat growing in your cheeks. 

This asshole. 

“I’m sorry, man.” He chuckled, giving Ethan a harsh slap on the shoulder, a slap that wasn’t friendly in the slightest bit—and you were sure now that the tension in the space the three of you shared could be cut through with a knife.

You cleared your throat to speak up, but Ethan did it before you. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

This was the provocation Eddie needed, and you knew it; you saw that mischievous glint glimmer in his eyes. “Oh, just that she was telling me all about how fucking horrible you—”

You interrupted Eddie with a nervous giggle. “Sooo sorry! He’s just a bit drunk!” You gave Ethan a panicked smile. 

“I’ll see you around!” You called out, walking off while dragging Eddie as far away from him as possible with a harsh grip on his arm. 

You probably didn’t know what you were getting yourself into when you dragged him toward the closest empty room. 

“What the fuck?!?” You yelled into his face. 

He ignored your distress. “What are you doing with him?”

“None of your business.” You hissed.

“It is my business if you get with Mr Jock again.”

“I’m not getting with—” You lowered your voice mid-sentence, annoyance taking over. 

“What part of ‘I don’t want to fucking see you ever again’ don’t you understand?” You let out through gritted teeth, your face heating from anger. 

“Did you know…” He said, completely ignoring you, and you looked at him with the same angry expression, getting tired of his antics.

“When you get angry like that, a line crinkles on your forehead, and those sweet lips pout into a frown? You look so fuckin’ cute like that.” He murmured, leaning against the wall you trapped him into.

You let out an exasperated sigh, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “What the fuck is your problem?” You asked, brows furrowing. 

“What the hell do you want from me?” 

“You? I mean, eventually, I want to wake up with you every morning and fall asleep with you every night.” He smirked.

Fucking jerk.

You chuckled with an audible scoff. "Is this some kind of a joke?" You muttered under your breath, voice laced with irritation.

“You are so fucking irritating.” You spat, eyes narrowing. 

“Just… just—Leave me alone.” Your voice lowered, your face was coming closer to his, and all Eddie could think about was how nice it was to have you this close to him again, to feel your warmth again.

You could see it, the emotions his gaze held, but you didn’t want to fall for his antics again, so you turned quickly to leave.

“Please.” His pleading and his hold on your arm were what made you stop in your tracks. The way his voice cracked, you could hear the desperation. If only you didn’t care about him this fucking much…

“Please—just, hear me out.” He was almost begging, and you knew you should be running, you knew you shouldn’t care, not even to spit the venom inside of you that had been building since that night.

But you can’t help it. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked, words coming out in a sharp and biting tone as your anger escalated. 

“After what you said to me...” You looked at him with a piercing stare, your eyes practically emitting flashes of irritation.

“Do you have any fucking idea how much I can’t even stomach being around you?” Your nostrils flared with every breath you took. 

“In fact, I hate you.” You spat.

“You hate me?” He asked, inching closer toward you. 

“Yes!” You snapped. 

“Then show me.” He challenged. 

“W—what?” You stuttered, your confidence dissipating in a second as the room felt so fucking small when he was standing this close to you. 

Your guard was so thinly veiled that one fucking word from him was enough to shatter it.

And you knew, with one or two more pushes from him, you’d give in. You’d give in, regardless; you had missed him more than you would ever let him know. 

And you shouldn’t. You fucking shouldn’t.

“Take it out on me.” He whispered, gaze intentionally fixated on your lips. 

“You hate me, fine! One last time. Get me out of your system.” He’s so close to your face that when he leans in to whisper in your ear, you can feel his hot breath on your neck. 

He’s intoxicating—his endearing words, the jealousy, and the possessiveness—and you shouldn’t fucking fall for it. 

But it feels different this time; something is so fucking different about him that it’s throwing you off. The way his pretty lips frame the words is convincing. 

Making you believe that this would be the last time, making you believe that you could come clean off him if you had him just one more fucking time. 

You don’t say anything when you give in, your gaze lingering on his lips.

His eyes are quick to trace your face, admiring all of your features in awe, regret filling every vein in his body, knowing that this would be the last time. 

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says roughly. He doesn’t let you respond, lets the petty comments die down your throat when he kisses you. 

Oh, Jesus, Fucking Christ. 

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage. There was something so bittersweet about the way he kissed you, knowing it was going to be the last. He twirled his tongue with yours, so needy and so fucking promising. 

Eddie knew you better than the back of his hand, so when you started whimpering against his lips, your knees giving out, he knew you didn’t want to waste any time. 

He guided you toward the bed, gentle as he had never been before. The two of you were slow to undress each other, savoring every fucking moment. 

He let you lead everything, going only at your pace and making sure everything was up to your desires, purely catering to you. 

You could sense it, see the difference in how intimate this was, compared to others where it was just senselessly fucking, this was passionate, and it was killing the two of you. 

Rather than just pushing into it, he kept his gaze on you, admiring the way your chest rose up and down as his calloused hands slid further down your body, nipples hardening when his hands stopped to ghost over your thighs. 

His other hand rested on your breasts, and he didn’t hesitate to latch his tongue on it, sucking while his other fingers toyed with your entrance. 

You mewled; you weren’t going to hold back. “Moremoremore.” 

But he didn’t move an inch.

That greedy bastard. 

“More,” You pleaded louder this time, growing impatient. 

Eddie looked at you with such hunger in his eyes that it had your core throbbing. “I’m gonna give you every fucking thing you need, honey.” He promised. 

“But I need… this. I need this memory of you engraved into my brain, forever.” He groaned, giving all of his attention to every part of your body. 

You were quick to nod, quick to oblige him, especially when he made you feel this fucking good. 

But you couldn’t help it, you needed him. Especially when he was everywhere, hands gliding all over your body, making you whimper with just his touch. 

And the way you looked at him was so fucking tempting that he was almost going to explode, you were pleading with your gaze, telling him to take you… fully. To make you his, one last fucking time. 

He could recognize the weight your gaze held, almost as if he understood your train of thought, he pressed his thumb further into your clit, circling around it as your core clenched on nothing. 

“Please,” You begged. 

“Such an impatient, baby,” He muttered into your skin, pushing past your folds as he earned a low groan from you.

“Missed those sweet noises,” He hummed, doing everything in his power to not pound into you right away, the way your cunt was gushing for him, the way you pleaded, Eddie was sure he’d burst if he had to wait more. 

With a tender touch, he tucked your hair back. “You have no clue how fuckin’ insane you make me.” He pressed a sloppy kiss, his hands were still working their way through your folds. 

“Each time I’m around you… it’s like I lose all my fuckin’ senses.” He slurred into your ear, his cock was straining his boxers, and you looked so fucking perfect beneath him, looking all fucked when he had barely touched. 

But you ignored it. Ignored every one of his words, you didn’t need his sappy shit; you didn’t need another reason to stay. 

You just needed to feel good. 

“Please, fuck, baby, please,” You whimpered softly, your nails digging harshly into his back, making his cock twitch more and more. 

Baby. 

He doesn’t even remember the last time you called him that, and it shouldn’t bring a stupid, childish grin to his face, but it does. 

He’s ready to put everything behind him, start over, and do whatever you say. 

But he’s sure you will never let him. 

“I need you, Eds.” You murmured, eyes gazing into his; a mixture of tenderness and longing overtaking your features, speaking to him without uttering a single word.

That was all it took for him to free his hard cock from his boxers, his pink-tip burning with desire as it faced you, beads of pre-cum dripping from it as you smeared it all over, giving it a few pumps before you placed it into your entrance. 

The low groans that escaped Eddie’s lips were so fucking loud, filling the room, and you loved it. You loved the strained sounds he made with one touch from you. 

He didn’t hesitate to push himself deep inside of you without a warning, the space now being filled with both of your contented groans. 

“Holy fuck,” He breathed, head tilted back as he grinned at the sight in front of him.

You with your mouth hung open, murmuring his name as you took his cock like the good fucking girl that you were.  

“Takin’ me so well, angel,” He praised, “Baby, so fuckin’ tight, mhmm.” He placed sloppy kisses between your jaw and the line of your neck, grunting as he pounded his cock in and out of you with a speed that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

You were lost in him now, lost in the pure passion and affection Eddie provided you. You never felt this fucking good; you never felt this fucking close to him, breathing heavily as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

Everything was so fucking intense that you could barely breathe.  

“Look at how well your sweet cunt is takin’ me in.” Eddie moaned, watching the way his cock disappeared into you, nuzzling him with your warmth. 

“Fuckfuckfuck. S’fuckin’ warm, honey.” He muttered the deeper he pushed into you, and your walls were quick to clench around his throbbing cock.

You arched your back into him as you rocked your hips toward him.  

You wanted him deeper and deeper, faster and faster, his every moment was euphoric, and you needed him, more and more. 

He was making you greedy. 

God, you wanted to hate him so fucking bad. 

He groaned at your impatience, relished in the way you grunted your hips more into his cock, he chuckled smugly. “Greedy baby,” He muttered. 

You ignored his taunting while you begged for more. 

“Shut up,” You murmured, teasing him back.

And it was a huge mistake.

He cursed as he pulled out of you, and you whined at the emptiness, “Shit, shit, ‘m sorry” You whispered, but he ignored you, continuing his teasing while all you could do was thrash beneath him. 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You begged, causing him to smirk down at you. 

And even though your pleas were heavenly, Eddie was in no mood to stray away from you, he needed to be inside of you. 

He needed to feel your walls hugging his cock, he needed to be as close to you as he possibly could. 

“I would never say no to you, doll.” He mocked, rocking his hips into you with such force that the whimper that slipped past your lips was sinful. 

“All fuckin’ mine, yea?” He whimpered needily, and you nodded without hesitation, even though you both knew that wasn’t true. 

You shuddered underneath him; he was filling you to the brim, and you cherished every fucking second of it. 

“Eddie…” You barely let out a breath; the pleasure and sensation of each of his movements overwhelmed you. 

He cooed, “S’stuffed with my cock that you can barely speak, doll?” He asked mockingly. 

You nodded without hesitation, eyes squeezed shut. “I—Fuck…” Your head was dizzy, incoherent babbles were the only thing that escaped your lips, and Eddie knew, he knew you were close by the way your legs trembled. 

“Fuck… honey—I know.” He purred cockily, his hips pushing further into you with a glorious thrust. “I feel the same, baby.” He groaned when you clenched around him again.  

“My perfect girl.” He muttered as he continued his pace, his cock rocking into you further and faster—as if it were possible—earning low pleads from you in return.

“I never—I never thought being with someone could ever feel this way,” He whispered into your ear. 

Don’t let him get to you; don’t fucking let his words get to you.

But fuck—does everything with him feel so fucking good. 

“But, shit, you’re so different…” He muttered, his pace continuing as he grunted between his sentences. 

“You’re so fucking different.” You avoided his gaze, the emotion it held was too fucking much for you to handle.  

You tried to ignore it, tried to ignore the way you felt the hot tears streaming down your cheeks. Your emotions were a mess. 

It felt good, and he felt good; his words, his fucking cock inside of you, everything felt so fucking good. It was the temporary fix you needed. 

“Don’t do this to me, Munson.” You barely let out, he could feel your thighs trembling. 

“I…I never felt this way before… Jesus—Fuck.” The rocking motion of his hips became rougher each time he spoke; you were clenching around him, getting tighter and tighter, driving the both of you into insane heights of pleasure.

“I think I lo—” You snapped from your hazy state of pleasure; each of his words was like a stab at your fresh wound, the one he fucking created. 

“Don’t,” You warned him sternly, interrupting before he could get another vowel out.

"Don’t fucking finish that sentence. Don’t do that with me.”

“I know you. It's not working on me." You whispered.

“But—” He pleaded, and you interrupted again.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t ruin this.” The words were harsh as they left your lips.

“Don’t say things to make me doubt this, to make it harder for me to leave.” There was such a vulnerability in your voice that he couldn't help but want to protest. 

He wanted to tell you that it was all fucking true. That he was so fucking in love with you that he was sure he lost his mind. 

Yet, you don’t let him speak, you don’t let his words fool you, not again. 

You kiss him in a dizzyingly rough motion just to shut him up. 

His skin slaps against yours, rough, as if he’s trying to take his frustrations out, and you let him, you let him pound into you senselessly. You let his cock drive into you further, not stopping until he’s sure he’s stuffed you to the brim. 

“Eddie, fuck!” You mumble into his lips; your brows are drawn together, and he knows—he knows you are close. 

“Are you gonna cum, baby?” He cooed, and you nodded quickly. “Cum for me, honey.” He encouraged, not stopping his pace as he roughly thrusted his cock inside of your throbbing cunt one last time. 

A gush of wetness pulsed out of you when you released around him, the strength of your orgasm was enough to choke you out, and white-hot flashes blurred your vision as he watched you in awe. 

He wasn’t far behind, as the strained moans that escaped your throat drove him closer to the edge. 

“Shitshit—s’fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted. The way your cunt convulsed around him was too much for him to handle. He slammed inside of you one last time.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—” He growled against your hair as he came, his cock shrivelled inside your cunt, pulsing as he coated your walls with his warm cum, fucking his release inside of you.

The two of you stayed like that for a hot minute, bodies tangled to each other, both minds fuzzy as both of you tried to catch your breath. 

You could feel tears brimming your eyes again when the realization hit you. 

This was the last time. 

And you needed to leave. 

As soon as possible.

And that’s exactly what he’s afraid of, afraid of you leaving, forever. 

You are quick to shake your thoughts off, quickly getting up to get dressed. 

“Don’t,” He mutters, it’s barely audible. 

You turn to him with a quizzed look. “Please… Just, please don’t leave.” He begs, it’s the last sight you expect, and the last thing you expect to hear. 

And it should feel so fucking satisfying, to know he’s wrapped around your finger, to know he is practically pleading for you. But it doesn’t, it feels so fucking sentimental, and you hate it. 

“You knew.” You muttered, putting on the clothes you so carelessly discarded. 

“You wanted this to be the last time.” You whispered, not daring to look at him.

“I lied,” He was quick to reply. 

“Eddie…” You heaved a sigh.

“Please, just fucking listen to me for once.” He breathed; you’re sure you’ve never heard him this determined. 

“I’m a fucking idiot, and I’m the biggest coward in the whole fucking universe, okay?” You turn around to meet his gaze, it’s pitiful and heavy with guilt, and you wish you never cared about him.

You wish you could just throw your feelings away and leave him behind. 

“I don’t deserve you!” He exclaimed, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Stop… just stop with the bullshit of making me pity you—” You replied angrily.

But he doesn’t let you finish. 

“Look, Y/N. I want that with you, I want something real with you… Shit—more than anything.” 

You chuckled, baffled. “Too fucking late for that.” You replied coldly. 

“I—it doesn’t have to be!” He spoke, grasping at straws to get you to give him one more chance.

Just one more fucking chance.

“What good will it do?” You whispered.

“You know what I realized?” You asked, putting on your shirt as Eddie gazed at you with need. 

“We’re both so beyond fucked up that...” You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Us—” You pointed toward the two of you. “We would never work!” You spat.

“I’m the last fucking girl for a relationship, and you’re the last fucking guy for a relationship.” 

“That’s why it would be perfect!” He tried to reason, but you shook your head.

“No—no, it wouldn’t! We’d eat each other alive!” You exclaimed, but Eddie refused. 

“So?” He shrugged.

“So? We’d just fight all the time! You really want a relationship that hard?”

“When did you become so fucking afraid to take a risk? A little challenge?” You narrowed your eyes.

He read you like a fucking book. You knew you weren’t afraid of a challenge.

You were afraid of getting hurt.

You were afraid of being more attached to him than you already were.

You were afraid of him running out once you decided to fully commit.

You knew it wasn’t all him; you were messed up in your own fucking way. Avoiding everything that felt too real was your specialty, because you’d rather be aching now than in the near future when he broke your heart again.

If you didn’t leave now, you never could.

“Goodbye, Eddie.” You muttered, shutting out whatever he was saying as you closed the door. 

Eddie sat on the bed, alone with himself, and his mind that was spinning with thoughts and his own voice telling him that he fucked up. 

He chucked his jacket to the ground as he rubbed his hands along his face in frustration. 

He had truly done it this time, he had lost you.

Forever.

But did he have to? 

Did he need to be a fucking coward again? 

Why would he give up this fucking fast when he didn’t tell you how he even felt? 

Eddie got up in a hurry, sprinting toward the party like a man possessed, spinning around each girl he saw in the hopes that it might be you. 

“Have you seen, Y/N?” He asked, and the blonde girl pointed toward the porch. 

He muttered a quick ‘Thanks’ as he slipped through the bodies in his way as fast as he could, making his way onto the porch with anticipation, eyes glistening the second he spotted you. 

You were sat on the cold wooden floor with your face buried into your hands, quiet sniffling was all Eddie heard. And he felt it again—that familiar ache—the same ache he felt the past month, when he couldn’t see you, talk to you, or know how you were doing. It returned instantly when he heard your sobs. 

“Hey… hey…” He murmured, causing you to jump as you turned to him with swollen eyes and your mascara was quick to run down your cheeks. 

“You’re gonna get cold, honey. Let’s get you up, yea?” He had never been this fucking caring, nor did he ever pine after you this much; he always held back, no matter what storms brewed in his mind. 

He extended his arm for you to take, but you glared at him coldly. “What are you doing here, Eddie?” 

“I need to talk to you.” He said. 

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You muttered, “How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t want to—” Your rant was interrupted by his pleas.

“Please—just don’t say anything and just listen, please.” You sighed. 

“Please, Y/N.” 

“Fine.” You crossed your arms against your chest, your eyes still glistening with tears.

He inched closer to you. “These thirty fucking days I’ve spent away from you… It’s been torture, Y/N.” He shook his head. 

“You—you have no fucking idea the things I did... The things I’ve tried to forget about us... Forget you.” His voice almost cracked, distress overtaking his features. He was sincere, so fucking honest that it was starting to make you afraid.

You couldn’t decide if it was him or the chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. “And no matter what I did, I still found myself itching for you. A part of me that I couldn’t fucking kill craved for you… to see you, to call you.” 

You’d never seen him like this before.

Eddie was always guarded, all fun and teasing. Always turning serious shit into jokes.

And this was real. The only thing you wanted from him, the only thing you begged that he made a mockery of. The hypocrisy was appalling to you.

You opened your mouth, your brows had already furrowed, and he could tell you were going to curse him out, so he didn’t let you.

“I know… I’m a fucking hypocrite, I get it.” He whispered, and your eyes almost widened.

How the fuck did he read you that easily?

“And I’m so fucking sorry for everything I said.” He ran his hands through his curls, almost tugging them out for being an idiot.

“I was afraid, okay?” He heaved a sigh, hand ruffling through his messy hair.

You didn’t want to ask him what he was afraid of because you knew—because you were afraid of the same thing.

Your lips trembled with need; no words dared to come out of them. 

“I was so fucking scared because I did the first thing we promised not to do.” He squeezed his eyes shut. You knew how bad he was with his feelings; you couldn’t even believe that he had made it this far.

“I think—No, I know.” He shook his head.

“I really fell for you.” He was ripping open your chest now, holding your heart out. Telling you he felt the same. A gasping, quiet noise escaped your lips; this was all you wanted—needed.

You’ve been this close to Eddie countless times before; hell, he probably fucked you at a much closer distance countless times before, but this was intimate. 

“And I realized... I could lose everything in this fucked up world.” He took a deep breath, his face so close to yours that you could sense it. Sense every emotion radiating from his body—the vulnerability, the pain. 

Each beat of your heart was like a drumroll against your chest; everything you longed for was there, a breath away from you.

“But not you. Oh god, not you.” His brows knitted together in a painful expression, and his voice was barely audible as he looked at you with a gaze that held you as the center of his universe.

You wanted to kiss him; you wanted his soft lips to graze against yours; you wanted to sob into him, melt into him, and become complete with him. 

“W—what are you saying?” You asked, and you knew the answer, but you needed that confirmation, you needed those three words to leave his lips.

“I love you.” He said without hesitation, and you couldn’t help the childish grin that formed on your face, mirroring Eddie’s. 

“I—You do?” You stuttered.

“Yeah… I love you so fucking much that it’s embarrassing, really.” He chuckled, still not able to comprehend your expressions; you looked… frozen. 

“You, uh, you don’t have to say it back.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, all of this was so fucking new to him. What was he supposed to do now? Kiss you? No, no, no... He couldn’t do that because you didn’t say it back. 

“I’m sorry, shit, uhm—I honestly have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” He stuttered. 

You gave him a warm smile. “I’d say you are doing well,” You whispered, scrunching your nose. 

“Yeah?” He returned the smile—that goddamn smile that brought out his dimples. 

God, you wanted to kiss him. 

“You’re making it so hard for me to leave.” You muttered, turning around to take a breath as you shook your head.

Eddie sighed, hands quick to find yours as he turned you to face him. “Then don’t leave. Stay.”

His past words didn’t matter, and how your relationship started didn’t matter. None of it mattered now because Eddie was ready, ready to give himself fully to you. And he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

It was now or never. You heaved a sigh of breath as you looked into his eyes; you couldn’t help yourself. How could you not utter those words back to him?

“Jesus…When I told Robin that I was ready to fall in love again, I didn’t mean with you.”

You barely gave him any time to process your words as you smashed your lips with his.

It was as if passion was dripping from every move; it felt so fucking different to have this many emotions carrying your actions.

Before you could further it, taste him fully, Eddie pulled back slightly. You whined at the loss of contact. “Wait, wait, wait.” The words slipped past his lips quickly, eyes widening at your words.

“You—you? You are…?” He asked, baffled. He didn’t expect you to say it back.

He expected you to hate him forever. The thought of someone loving him was unfamiliar to him, especially to the extent that you did. Healing his fears without realizing it.

Your lips quirked into a smile. Why was he so idiotically cute?

You nodded, affirming him.

“Say it, please,” He pleaded, hands gentle as they cupped your cheeks. The look he gave you was mellow and your face tilted as you melted into his tender touch.

“I love you,” You muttered, eyes glinting with all the unspoken feelings you’ve been containing.

“Again.” A grin overtook his lips, and his widened eyes didn’t falter, shock and pure bliss apparent was written all over his face.

“Please,” He implored, brows softening each time you gave him that pretty smile.

“Soooo needy.” You narrowed your eyes jokingly.

“I love you,” You repeated, your gaze lingering on his honey-glazed eyes.

“Aren’t you a fucking dream?” You giggled, the dimples on his left cheek were pretty, he was so pretty.

“I love you more, honey.” He whispered, smashing his soft lips against yours.

And you invite him in to patch up the wounds he made, to give you the world, to love you fully; knowing that the blind faith transcended into something real, something worth worshiping.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #fuckboy!eddie munson #fuckboy!eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #modern!eddie munson

[momotonescreaming]

I've been reading a lot of fics lately where Steve and Eddie get nightmares and ring each other in the middle of the night for comfort. And I love it but I can't help but wonder what if when Steve rings the trailer post nightmare, it's Wayne who picks up the phone?

It's his day off and he's still keeping to his night shift schedule, so it's 3am and Wayne is watching a movie on quiet, or reading a book he's been meaning to get around to. And then the phone rings.

And as soon as he picks up the phone, a shaky voice calls out quietly "Eddie?"

It's Steve. Eddie's boy. And it's the middle of the night and Wayne knows what a man on the verge of panic sounds like.

Wayne calmly introduces himself and Steve immediately backtracks. It's the middle of the night and he's probably disturbing him, does he have work? I'm sorry Wayne.

But before he can hang up, Wayne calmly tells Steve it's okay. He's alright. And he doesn't want to risk bringing up the panic and the nightmares he knows they both get and risk scaring Steve off- so instead he asks Steve if he wants to hear an embarrassing story about Eddie as a toddler.

And after a pause Steve replies with a quiet and shaky "Yes please." So him and Wayne have a quiet conversation in the middle of the night, Wayne slowly talking Steve down from a nightmare with stories about young Eddie, and folk tales Wayne grew up on. Steve calms down, and hangs up after thanking Wayne softly.

Wayne doesn't say anything, doesn't know if Steve wants him to. He knows Steve tells Eddie when Wayne comes home from work two days later and Eddie greets him with a hug so huge he's almost swept off his feet. He mumbles into Wayne's chest, thanking him for helping Steve for him.

Wayne replies that it was no trouble at all.

#i am overcome with love for wayne hes thr best uncle #steddie #steve harrington #wayne munson #eddie munson #stranger things #My Writing

[lovebugism]

Okay soooooooo

How bout something like King Steve picking on shy!reader, then later finding out she has a shitty home life plz

ty for requesting!! this can be read as a prequel to this fic — steve comforts you when he accidentally makes you flinch (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, cw for brief mentions of abuse, 1.8k)

Sitting alone at the Hellfire table, you feel a little like fishbait. 

Your spot in the very back of the cafeteria is normally full and loud — with Dustin’s bickering, and Eddie’s laughing, and Gareth’s stupid jokes — but they’re not here now. They’re off getting their trays while you sit in wait for them (and the cold fries you’ll ultimately steal from Eddie’s plate). It leaves you perfect prey for circling sharks.

You hear laughter from behind you, over the sounds of the bustling lunch room. You’re certain they’re laughing at you — ‘cause you always think someone’s laughing at you — but you try hard to ignore it. You disregard the subtle pang of anxiety in your chest and stick your nose in your book, eyes flitting across the words without reading any of them.

Someone flumps down at your side then, where Mike usually sits. The overwhelming scent of spiced cologne stings your nostrils. With watering eyes, you look beside you. At Tommy fucking Hagan.

“Hey, Wallflower,” he greets like it’s normal — like he hasn’t spent the past four years pretending you don’t exist. You think he only calls you Wallflower now because his friends have been doing it for so long they don’t remember your real name.

The boy props his elbow on the table and puts his chin in his fist, trying hard to hide his boyish beam and accompanying laughter. He fails.

You cower at his presence, all but shrinking into yourself. “…Hi?” you reply in a tiny voice.

“How’s it hangin’?”

“...Fine?”

“That’s great!” he answers instantly, like he hadn’t heard you at all. “You see, my friend Steve, over there— you know him, right?”

You don’t bother to look where he’s pointing. Of course, you know Steve The Hair Harrington. You don’t think there’s a single person in Hawkins who doesn’t.

You nod in response.

Tommy’s smile widens. “Well, he’s got this massive crush on you,” he confesses, choking back a laugh halfway through. “I mean, he talks about you all the time.”

You know he’s lying. And not just because he’s grinning so hard that his eyes are crinkled and his freckled cheeks are turning pink. You’re almost certain Steve Harrington doesn’t even know who you are. He never had a reason to. Why would the King of Hawkins High ever stoop so low to know someone like you?

You glance at him over your shoulder, a couple tables down from you. He’s almost magnetically pretty. You couldn’t ignore him if you tried — with his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his pretty smile. His golden cheeks flush as all his friends start poking fun at him. 

He rolls his eyes and scoffs a laugh you can tell is forced from here. He doesn’t think any of this is funny. You can see it on his face. But he isn’t trying to stop it all from happening. You’re just collateral damage, really.

You turn back to Tommy with a disbelieving look in your eye.

He continues to ramble despite it. “He was just a little nervous coming up to you, that’s all. So I thought I’d do him a favor and slip you his number. You know, as his wingman and all.” He tosses a folded-up index card onto the pages of your opened book. “You should call him tonight— It’ll make his day, I swear.”

He pats you a little too hard on the back before he goes. His laugh echoes over all the rest when he sits back down at his table. You watch them over your shoulder as they fall over themselves to crack jokes about you. 

Steve’s the only one not smiling. “Not cool, Tommy,” he mouths.

—————

Locker 148. The one right across from yours. Property of Steve The Hair Harrington. 

You shove the thick card with his number written on it between the slits in the metal. You’d carried it around all day, utterly unsure of what to do with it. You decided ultimately to return it, figuring he might feel a little better if a total stranger didn’t have his phone number.

You struggle to slide it through the thin gap, though. The paper gets caught halfway through, and you try to yank it back out again. The old locker moves with you, like it’s not completely shut but still somehow latched. 

You’re so in your own head you don’t hear the gymnasium door down the hall squeal open and shut again. Steve pants heavily and tries to recover from a ruthless basketball practice. He hunts for a water fountain and finds you instead.

“What are you doing?” he calls as he nears you, not malicious or unkind but genuinely curious.

Your heart lurches into your throat as you all but jump out of your skin.

Steve laughs, a pretty sound in the silent hallway. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t— I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” you assure with an averted gaze, though your frightened demeanor says otherwise. “I was just— I was trying to give you this.”

You hold the paper out towards him. He takes it with hesitant hands. “What is it?”

“Your number. Tommy gave it to me earlier, and I know it was just a stupid joke, so I… I thought you’d feel more comfortable if I gave it back to you.”

Something in Steve’s chest aches. He doesn’t understand why you would care about what might make him comfortable. It’s not like he ever gave you the time of day — or ever tried to stop his friends from being total assholes. As far as he’s concerned, you’re the last person who should give a shit about him.

“Oh. Right— Yeah… Thanks,” he stammers and shoves the thing into his pocket. “And I’m— I’m sorry about Tommy and everything. He can be a real douchebag sometimes. I didn’t… I didn’t tell him to bother you or anything—”

“I know,” you assure in a mousy voice. “Tommy gave me your number hoping I’d be dumb enough to call while your friends were over so you could all… laugh at me? I guess. He could’ve been a little more original, honestly.”

Steve cracks a smile. He almost laughs, but he can’t tell if you’re joking or not.

“I’ll talk to him later. Tell him to leave you alone—” He rambles and walks closer to you. You watch him with tentative eyes as he approaches. “—He’s a total dumbass sometimes, but he usually means well. Most of the time, anyway—”

Steve raises his hand suddenly. And, because you’re frightened by everything little thing, you flinch and stumble over yourself in the process. The lockers catch your fall, and you hit the back of your head. Hard.

“Shit— Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you squeak, holding the crown of your hair and squinting as your skull pounds.

Steve rushes to your side, then idles just ahead of you because he doesn’t know if you want him touching you. His brows pinch, chiseled features swimming with concern. His cinnamon eyes glitter with it, too. “I wasn’t trying to scare you—”

“It’s okay.”

“—My locker was just jammed. I was going to shut it.”

The metal door is open now, from where it wasn’t shut all the way and where you just smacked your head on it.

“I just wasn’t expecting it,” you assure in a tight voice, trying hard to ignore the sharp throbbing. “It’s fine. I’m fine—”

“You’re hurt.”

“It’ll go away—”

“Let me get you an icepack.”

“—I’ll be fine once I get home.”

Steve, feeling purely at fault and aching at how effortlessly you shrug him off, decides to approach you fully. He curls a warm hand around the outside of your elbow. A touch surprisingly gentle. “No. C’mon. Let me help.”

You don’t feel much like you’re in any position to fight him about it. Not with the world still swaying under your feet. 

Steve guides you the short distance to the empty cafeteria. Slow and kind and dreadfully patient. He sits you down, makes sure you’re still okay, and then rushes to fix you a makeshift icepack — a ziplock bag filled to the brim with chipped ice.

He sits at the chair beside yours, slightly askew so his knees bump your thighs. He holds the pack to the crown of your head and gazes at you attentively. You’re not looking back at him to see it.

“Does it still hurt?”

You shrug, eyes flitted to the wringing hands in your lap. “It’s fine. It just feels a little like I have a migraine.”

Steve winces. “I’m sorry.”

Your doe eyes peek at him from beneath your lashes. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I scared you.”

“Everything scares me.”

It’s a dumb joke. You mean it, but you still expect him to laugh about it. He doesn’t even crack a smile, though. He just keeps looking at you with that puppy-like twist to his features. The worry is evident in his face. 

“Do you wanna, like, talk about it or something?”

“About what?”

“Why you flinched.”

You freeze, breath hitching in your throat. No one’s ever noticed your incessant panic — outside of making jokes about it anyway. No one’s cared enough to ask about it, either. Steve Harrington is the last person you expected any kind of concern from.

You shake your head after a few long moments. “No.”

“You could,” Steve assures, suddenly shy. You didn’t know he could be anything other than totally full of himself. “You know, if you wanted to. I wouldn’t— I wouldn’t tell anyone—”

You scoff a disbelieving laugh.

Steve’s features swirl with hurt. You hate that it makes your chest ache. You hate most that he hasn’t stopped being soft with you. The hand holding the pack to your head hasn’t yet wavered, even though you know his arm must be tired now.

“I wouldn’t. ‘Cause I— I know what it’s like to… to have a bad home life or whatever,” he confesses, stammering hopelessly. He forces a laugh at himself. “Probably more than most people do, honestly.”

His admission takes you by surprise. It comforts you in a way you didn’t think someone like him could. 

Even still, you shake your head. “I— I can’t—” you murmur, clearing your throat when the words get stuck there. “I can’t talk about it…”

Steve nods, firm and reassuring. “That’s okay. You don’t have to, I was just… I was just saying, you know? I get it.”

You swallow through a tight throat, nodding wordlessly in response.

“Plus, you know, you have my number and everything… If you ever wanted to talk…”

You flash him a timid look and crack a quiet smile. “I gave it back to you, remember?”

“I’ll write it down for you again,” he promises with a shrug and a lopsided grin. It’s easier to ignore his aching arm and the ice stinging his palm when he’s looking at you. “For real this time.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

[obsessedelusional]

chocolate (smut)

paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary ↬ You’ve been with Eddie for over three years, it’s only natural that the two of you would get comfortable? But are you too comfortable? It’s been nearly a month since you two had sex. When you realize that it sends you into a panic, desperate to find that spark again. You purchase enhancing chocolate and a sexy outfit, as a a surprise. What happens when your plans fall through, causing a argument?

word count ↬ 2.4K

a/n: thank you for all the love on my last eddie one shot, inspired me to finish this.. which if I’m being entirely honest is from a request from well over a year ago and has been sitting unfinished since then.. anyways.. luveeee you

Feedback & Reblogs appreciated! Thank you ᜊ

Being three years into a relationship things can become stagnant but you always swore that would never happen to your relationship with Eddie. Yet here you two were on your way into the roommate phase. You two too comfortable cohabiting, like a couple of friends sharing a bedroom. A bedroom that hasn’t seen any action in weeks. Three weeks, four days to be exact.

A few day shy of a month is when it hit you like a ton of bricks. Sending you into a deep one sided spiral focused on your relationship with Eddie. No one’s to blame, both of your work schedules taking up so much time. Eddie worked Monday through Friday at the local mechanic shop. His weekends usually spent with his band. Between attending college and work, you we’re just as busy.

It was a rare occasion that your schedules aligned to have the same day off. So when a coworker asked to switch days off so they could have Tuesday off and you’d be off on Sunday, you happily agreed. Deciding in that moment you’d do something to reignite the relationship.

After some thought you decided to surprise Eddie with some sexy goodies. A quick trip to the local sex shop and less than a hundred dollars later, you have a bag full of supplies. You decided on a black lace lingerie set that didn’t leave much up to the imagination and aphrodisiac chocolate. Something you have never done with Eddie before. When you get home Eddie isn’t there so you hide your new things saving them for Sunday.

—

“You work today?” Eddie asks curiously, when he comes out of the bathroom to find you sat in the kitchen. Normally by now you were long gone, it’s almost noon and he’s just waking up.

“No someone wanted to switch so I have today off.” You explain, smile plastered across your face. It was Sunday afternoon and you were excited to execute your plans. Eddie moves closer towards you, examining the spread of breakfast you prepared for him.

“What’s all this for?” He asks reaching for a slice of bacon throwing it into his mouth.

“For you. Just wanted to do something special.” You respond, Eddie wraps his half naked body around you enveloping you in a tight hug.

“Thank you baby.” He says face digging into your shoulder, smelling your hair. He pulls away just far enough to brush it out of the way. Moving in again, kissing up your neck. You have so much pent up sexual frustration you’re ready to say fuck this food and your entire plan, ready to let Eddie take you right then and there.

Before you can take it to the next level, he pulls away completely. Grabbing a plate and serving himself the food you prepared. Eddie doesn’t notice the exaggerated eye roll you give just sits down at the table, filling his face.

“This is delicious,” he mumbles between chewing bringing a smile back to you. You join him with your own plate, sitting next to him. He does the silly little thing he’s always done, dragging your chair with you in it closer to him. He looks proud when your close enough to his liking, going back to the meal in front of him. You eat filled with contentment that after all these years he still does the tiny things still.

“Any plans for today?” You ask. Eddie looks up from a his plate like he’s thinking.

“Yeah the bands meeting at two to practice for a few hours.” He says, your face tells on you falling into a frown.

“I promise as soon as we’re done. You’ll have my full undivided attention all night, okay?” He does his best to reassure you but you can’t help but feel irritated and it’s apparent in your demeanor.

“Is there something else you wanted to do today?” He asks, confused by your sudden change in mood.

“I had a surprise for you but I’ll guess it’ll wait.”

“What was it?” He asks.

“It can wait... You can find out when ever you decide to come home.” You respond, the annoyance heavy in your tone.

“Whatever.” He laughs causing an unreasonable amount of anger to flood over you.

“Whatever? I just wanted to do something for us today.” You raise your voice standing up in the process, leaving Eddie sat alone at the table. He lets out an defeated groan, you ignore it. Heading straight to your bedroom. Suddenly the apartment feels too small wishing you could escape somewhere else. Crawling into bed, hiding under the covers letting the frustrated tears fall.

—

You’re not sure how much time has passed, you had fallen asleep after you and Eddie’s little tiff. The sound of someone entering the room is what stirs you, the feeling of Eddie climbing into bed next to you is what fully wakes you. He slips through the covers, finding you and cuddling with you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. You roll over to face him, he looks genuinely upset.

“I’m sorry too.” You sigh. Eddie goes to talk but you cut him short by speaking up.

“I just wanted to do something special for you because we’ve basically turned into roommates.”

“Baby that’s not true.”

“It is Eddie. We haven’t had sex in almost a month.”

“No it hasn’t been…” His voice trails off trying to remember the last time, drawing a blank.

“It’s no one’s fault, we’re both just busy. I was so excited to spend today with you, I should have told you beforehand not just expected you.” You say, holding back tears. Eddie has started lightly tracing the side of your face listening to you speak.

“The insecure part of me has been spiraling for the last week, thinking the worst. That maybe we haven’t done anything because you don’t want me anymore.” As you talk the tears slowly trickle out from your eyes, landing on your pillow. Eddie wipes away at your tears before responding, pulling you in closer in the process.

“That is far from the case, baby. I love you so much. I’ve been working so much and focusing on the band. I forgot to prioritize you.” He pulls you all the way, slipping an arm under you hugging you tightly. Placing a sweet kiss on your head.

—

After a much needed conversation that lasted a solid hour, Eddie and you were still laid in bed. Topic had moved on to something less heavy. Eddie was now sat up in bed, you resting your head in his lap while he plays with your hair. You had just found out that he skipped practice because he felt so shitty.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’m glad I did. This was needed. Plus how will I ever get my surprise, huh?” You shake your head no feeling as if the moments been ruined.

“Come on just tell me what it was.” He begs, you push up from his lap to see his face. His big brown puppy eyes on full display, bottom lip pouting. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted. You groan before getting out of bed and heading straight to the drawer where you hid the goodies. In a swift motion you pull out the plastic bag, tossing it at Eddie. He catches it pulling out the items inside.

“This isn’t gonna fit me.” He jokes, holding the lingerie by a single strap. You roll your eyes before snatching it out of his hands. He continues digging through the bag finding the special chocolate.

“Chocolate?” He asks confused.

“It’s enhancing chocolate.” His face is still full of confusion.

“It’s suppose to stimulate blood flow, enhances performance.” You explain watching as Eddie reads over the box.

“What are we waiting for?” He asks, ripping open the package. Before you can protest he plops his half in his mouth, passing you the other half. You follow in his lead eating the chocolate.

“How long does it take?” Eddie asks, examining the box further.

“20 to 40 minutes? What the hell are we supposed to do until then?” He says throwing the box the side, looking up at you. Eyes going from the lingerie to your face, his grin growing.

“We can start with you putting that on.” Eddie suggests.

A few long minutes later, you come out of the bathroom dressed in your new lingerie. His eyes find you, muttering ‘fuck’. He stands up from the bed approaching you. Once he’s a few inches away from, his hands find your hips. Letting himself explore your body in this new outfit. Tracing the lacey undergarment with his hands.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” He whispers, pulling you closer. He lifts your face before pressing his lips to yours, kissing you softly. You return the kiss, you fingers reaching behind his neck. Finding his hair and tangling them in the nape of his neck, tugging slightly. Just enough to elicit a small moan from his lips.

You two are twisted together, without breaking the kiss he begins to take a few steps back. You follow as he sits on the bed, climbing into his lap. Pushing him till he’s on his back and you’re straddling his hips. You’re eager, ready to take it farther kissing down his neck. Lowering your body, pressing delicate kisses along his torso as you go.

Eddie watches closely as you pull his bottoms off, lifting his hips and helping you to get him undressed. As soon as he’s fully nude, your making yourself comfortable inbetween his legs.

“How do I know it’s the chocolate and not what you’re doing that has my dick so hard?” He questions, making you roll your eyes laugh in softly.

“Shh..” You respond, taking his erection in your hand pumping it slowly.

When he doesn’t shut up trying to press the question again, you kiss his tip before licking the crown of his cock. That shuts him up, watching your lips part around him. Your head moving up and down. Eddie lets his moans out as his tip hits the back of your throat. His eyes nearly roll in the back of his head when your hand starts to play with his balls.

“F-fuck!” Eddie groans as he gently pushes your head lower, enjoying the sight of his cock dissaprering into your throat.

A mess of your saliva pools at the base of his cock. He holds you there for a few moments, tears forming at your eyes until he lets go. You quickly lift your head, a long web of drool hangs from your lips to his cock. You make eye contact wipe it away then use that hand to pump him again.

Before you can continue, he’s guiding you up his body. Kissing your swollen and slick lips. Your core rests on his wet cock, you don’t waste a moment grinding your hips. Both of you moan into the kiss at the friction. His cock slips through your folds, hitting your clit. It feels too good and he hasn’t even entered yet. You’ve been waiting too long for this, so you raise your hips. He takes the hint aligning himself with your hole. You sink down slowly, inch by inch.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Eddie mutters, his hands gripping your hips. The feeling of being filled is overwhelming. The stretch is a bit paniful but in the best way possible. You look down at Eddie before moving your hips at a steady pace. Both of you moaning, his grip tightening leaving marks in their wake. Guiding your hips to move faster.

Your pace quickens, taking him deeply. Every inch of him plunging into your warmth. You’re too distracted by the sensation to notice him pulling you closer. Eddie hungrily kissing you, his tongue asking for permission by sliding against your lips. Your mouth opens, tongues meeting each other. Without any warning Eddie’s hips thrust into you. A moan breaks the kiss, as he continues to jerk himself into you. His movements matching yours. It stops for a moment only because Eddie is rolling over on top of you.

“Get on your knees, I want to fuck you from behind.” He demands and you gladly listen. Positioning yourself infront of him, your ass up and face down.

Eddie take his cock, pushing it in one quick thrust. Watching as he disappears into your hole. He’s pounding into you, giving you no time to adjust. Your whimpers grow louder as he fucks you at a brutal pace. The sensation of his balls hitting your clit adds to the pleasure.

You’re gripping the sheets, pushing back against his thrusts. Eddie grabs a fist of your hair, pulling it. Tears swell at your eyes, it hurts so good. As you bite your lip, he continues his pace. Fucking you so roughly. Your body begins to tremble as you get closer to your finish, letting Eddie know your close. That what he is doing is working.

You disolve into pleasure, your body becoming putty as he keeps pounding into you. A chocked sob leaves your mouth as you come undone. Your walls spasm bringing Eddie closer to his end. With a few more jerks of hips he’s coming, panting your walls with his seed. He releases your hair, kissing your shoulder tenderly. He pulls out, dropping onto his back. You lay down next to him. Your chests heaving as you both try to breathe.

“How long is it supposed to last?” Eddie asks so you reach for the box.

“Uh… effect could last up to three hours.” You read out loud.

“I feel like I could go again.” He admits, looking down at his erection.

“Yeah?” You ask eagerly.

“Mhmm we have to make up for lost time.” He says, facing you bringing his lips to your chest. Nibbling softly on your skin.

“But I think it’s only fair I taste you this time.” He whispers, kissing down your stomach and to your core.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie imagine #eddie x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things eddie #eddie smut #eddie munson st4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson fanfic #munson smut #mun

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

In Which Steve Gains a Little Weight and Eddie May or May Not Have a Staring Problem { hint: he absolutely does. but who wouldn't? }

Chubby!Steve lovers rise up! He is a blessing upon our houses. 😌

Eddie's been staring at him. For months. Steve had actually had to snap his fingers at Eddie once, right in front of his face. To get his attention. And Eddie had flinched and flailed back dramatically, making it seem like Steve was the offending party when Eddie had been the one staring. He was always staring.

Steve never used to mind people staring. He knew he looked good. Not in a self centered way. Just... people told him he looked good. And he didn't really have reason to argue. Girls definitely liked him. So it just seemed... like a fact. To him.

But lately Steve hadn't been feeling attractive. At least not as attractive. He'd gained a bit of weight. With the gates closed for good and Hawkins back to normal. He'd finally let himself relax. And he'd been eating more, his appetite from before all the anxiety and stress and fighting for his life, and the kids lives, finally coming back.

He still swam a bit. Went for runs every morning. But he was filling out. His thighs were thicker. His stomach softer. He'd heard his mother call one of his cousins "pudgy" when he was young and now everytime he looked in the mirror the word rang in his head like a bell.

He was pudgy. Less defined, soft around the edges. And Eddie kept. Fucking. Staring.

~°~

Steve was laying on one of the lounge chairs by the pool. Eddie was floating in the water, eyes closed, arms moving gently at his sides, keeping him afloat. Steve tugged his shirt down, again, and tried to get comfortable.

It was just him and Eddie today. Robin had to work. And the kids were in school. Steve was just glad Eddie had gotten in the water. So he would stop looking at him. Cuz he'd been doing it again. His eyes locked on Steve, roaming over him, looking at god knows what.

Steve knows what. Wraps his arms around his middle and feels what he knows Eddie has been staring at. Skinny as a rat Eddie Munson who can eat whole fucking pizzas and just... nothing. Steve ate whole pizzas too, that wasn't the issue. It was just, Steve's pizza seemed to settle on his hips now more than it used too.

He hears Eddie make a choking sound and watches him flail and sink beneath the water, popping up a moment later, coughing, and dragging Steve out of his thoughts.

"You good man?" Steve calls, letting his hands fall away from his body. Eddie keeps coughing but gives Steve a thumbs up, then wipes at his face, rubbing at his nose as he stands looking like a wet kitten in the middle of the pool. He clears his throat loudly, shakes his head, coughs once more, and then ducks back under water just to bounce back up, his face toward the sky, the water moving his hair out of his face.

Steve had walked to the edge of the pool, watching Eddie cough. He sits himself on the edge, feet dangling in the water to cool himself off. He could take his shirt off. It would be cooler. But he can't. Doesn't want to. Not in front of Eddie.

He watches Eddie lower himself shoulders deep in the water and then look up at Steve, he smiles, soflty.

"I fell asleep." He says, to belatedly explain his nearly chocking to death. Steve rolls his eyes, snorts, and shakes his head.

"Of course you did." Steve sighs.

"Hey it's not my fault. If you had some nice floaties around here like the goblins have been asking for I wouldn't have almost died." Eddie retorts.

And Steve is about to argue, he wants too, opens his mouth to do it and everything. But he catches the way Eddie is looking at him again and the words die in his mouth. His arms wrapping around his soft middle as he tries to hide, he sits up a bit straighter. Eddie swims toward him, eyes lingering.

"You gonna swim?" Eddie asks, soflty.

"Naw. Don't think so. I'm not that warm." Steve shrugs, kicks his feet in the water a bit as Eddie moves closer.

"You're sweating." Eddie says, pointing out the obvious. Steve glares at him a bit, nothing too harsh, and wipes at his forhead with the back of his arm.

"I'm good. Just my feet in is nice." He kicks water at Eddie, he doesn't even dodge it, just lets it hit him as he keeps swimming forward.

He nods at Steve, swims up next to him, rests his arms on the side of the pool and his chin on his arms, looking up at Steve until Steve turns and looks directly at him. Eddie quickly looks away then. Steve looks away too.

Looks away from the pale skin of Eddie's shoulders. Away from the way Eddie's arms flex as he shifts a bit to get more comfortable. Away from that look in his eyes.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" Eddie asks out of nowhere.

"What?" Steve asks, leaning away from Eddie a little faster than he'd meant too. Eddie tracks the movement, Steve sees him do it.

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" Eddie repeats.

"No I heard you. It's just-" he pauses, shakes his head. His heart beating a little faster.

"Why would you ask that? You don't make me uncomfortable. I like having you here. If that's... is that what you mean?" Steve asks, stammering a bit. Not really sure what Eddie wants from him. Eddie shakes his head though, slowly. Once.

"No I mean... you've just seemed... different. Lately. Like... you're trying to sink into yourself. Make yourself smaller. Or something." Eddie shrugs, shakes his head like he doesn't think he made sense. But Steve's heart pounds with just how much sense he made. Hit the nail right on the head, actually, in the scary way he has.

"I-" he considers lying. Saying everything's fine. But it's not. And if he says it is, Eddie will think he's done something wrong. And he hasn't. Not really. Eddie's eyes widen, he lifts his head, then stands, leans his hip agaisnt the wall of the pool instead.

"Yes?" Eddie teases, bumping Steve's knee with the back of his hand. Steve huffs a laugh and takes a deep breath.

"I am. Trying to make myself smaller. Like, in the figurative sense. Cuz I'm like, I've gained weight. And I don't... I don't know. I guess I'm just... uncomfortable with that? Not because of you." Steve says, watches Eddie smile at him. For some fucking reason.

"Literal sense. And why does that make you uncomfortable? Not getting as many chicks? Are the ladies of Hawkins really so shallow?" Eddie asks, brushing past his correction and partly mocking Steve, like he knows that's not the issue. And Steve is so thankful, just that small amount of mocking makes him feel a little better. Like he's being silly maybe, about the whole thing.

"Well. Yes. They are. Some of them. But I don't know. It was just a thing. At first. A thing I noticed in the mirror getting out of the shower. Or after swimming. Or trying to fit into some of my old jeans. Just a thing. Just a difference I noticed is all." He shrugs, eyes on the water.

"You're not the only one." Eddie mutters, teeth pulling at his bottom lip.

"What?" Steve asks, he hadn't been paying attention, the words a muddy sound on the peripherals of his hearing. Eddie shakes his head, waves him off.

"Nothin. Don't worry about it." He pushes his hand through the water at his side before looking back to Steve.

"Bodies change man. It happens. Nothin' wrong with it." He shrugs again, lowers himself back to his shoulders and looks up at Steve, his hair a dark cloud in the water around him. Steve sighs, feels silly and stupid for what he's about to say.

"Yeah. Sure. But I used to be hot." He says, matter of factly. Eddie snorts.

"You are hot. Way hotter now than when we were in school." Eddie says, like he can't believe what he's hearing, but also.... Eddie thinks he's hot? Steve watches him for a moment, he's got his face tilted to the sky, leaning back to dunk his hair in the cool water, his pale neck on display as he sighs at the cooless on his head.

"You think I'm hot?" Steve asks, has to, can't not. He'd said it so easily, like it should be obvious.

Eddie's eyes go wide as his head snaps back in Steve's direction.

"What?" His voice cracks. He hasn't blinked.

"You said you think I'm hot." Steve says, he can feel his own cheeks flush. But he can see Eddie's doing it. They had already been tinted pink from the early morning sun, but they were rushing quickly toward red.

"No. I didn't- that's not-"

"You said you thought I was hot when we were in school." Steve repeats, feeling a tad bit giddy as he watches the flush rush down Eddie's neck as well.

"That's- that's not... what I meant." Eddie huffs, petulant, but he crosses his arms over his chest, guarding himself.

"But it's what you said." Steve teases, keeping his face as straight as possible. Eddie huffs again.

"Well I clearly didn't mean to say that outloud okay?" He shakes his head, sinks a little in the water before bobbing back up. Steve just looks at him. Tries to give him the look that Eddie had been giving him, for the last few months.

He doesn't know if it works. But Eddie groans loudly and ducks under the water. Steve laughs as a stream of bubbles reach the surfface, he can hear Eddie screaming under the water. When he surfaces again, his face is still a very nice shade of pink, Steve wants to touch it, to feel the heat of it beneath his fingers.

"I'm sorry okay. I have been making you uncomfortable. I've been staring. I know I have, okay? It's just hard not too. When you walk around looking like that!" Eddie waves his hand frantically in Steve's direction, even as he takes a few steps away from him.

"Like what?" Steve's brow furrows, he looks down at himself, his shirt is a little tight around his stomach, his swim trunks a bit snug around the hips, and his thighs are practically squeezed into them. What was Eddie seeing that he wasn't. He looks back to see Eddie staring again, but his eyes are on Steve's face this time.

Steve watches several emotions pass over Eddie's face as he watches him. He seems to settle on determined and takes a step back in Steve's direction. Then another. He stops just out of reach. Sets his shoulders.

"You're fucking beautiful Steve. I don't- I don't know how you can't see that." He shrugs, like he's helpless, his eyes wide and honest. Steve swallows hard, glances down at himself again and then back to Eddie.

"I'm-?"

"Gorgeous. Like.... fucking ethereal. I could fucking look you all day. Fuck, I mean I basically do. You're like a goddamn peice of art." Eddie's voice is so raw, it catches in his throat. His arms wrapped around himself tight, like he's afraid Steve will be mad at him for some reason. Steve shakes his head, once, trying not to cry. He smiles at Eddie, all watery eyed and goofy, and tugs his shirt over his head before throwing himself into the water. And then throwing himself at Eddie, who catches him easily.

His hands are warm on Steve's sides, warm and so so gentle, like he's not sure he's allowed to touch. He just stares at Steve, throat bobbing as Steve moves his fingers over Eddie faces, tracing his features.

"You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself." Steve says, smiles wide when a laugh bursts out of Eddie. Steve presses closer, chest to chest, arms snaking around Eddie's neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie whispers, his lashes fluttering as his eyes dart around Steve's face. Steve's chest burns, and pounds, as Eddie's fingers press harder into his hips.

"Yes. Yeah." Steve breathes, nodding, almost frantic. Eddie smiles, leans in a bit, and then sways away with a grimace.

"What? What's wrong?" Steve asks, suddenly feeling a bit sick to his stomach. Eddie squints at him, shakes his head, closes his eyes with another grimace.

"Full disclosure. I've never actually...like... fully kissed someone... before. So I might not- I mean I don't know what I'm doing." Eddie opens one eye, peaking at Steve to see his reaction around his wincing, scrunched up features. Steve's heart flutters, he smiles and scratches his nails gently against Eddie's scalp, Eddie leans into it like a cat.

"That's okay. I know what I'm doing." Steve assures him, Eddie's eyes go wide for a split second and then Steve is kissing him. A small noise startles out of Eddie when their lips meet and Steve could listen to that all day, it's like music. He pulls back after a genlte press, he can feel Eddie's hands trembling against his hips.

"That okay?" Steve asks, Eddie nods enthusiastically and presses back in, another gentle press of lips before Steve pulls back again, eyes moving over Eddie's face and the soft way he's looking at him.

"You really think I'm beautiful? Hot. Like this?" Steve asks, rolling his eyes at himself, his hand moving to his stomach and then away again. Eddie's eyes follow the movement, the way Steve nearly flinches away from his own touch.

"Fuck yes." Eddie says, he sounds breathless. And then Steve is gasping as Eddie leans down, licks a hot stipe across Steve's stomach, and then sinks his teeth into the soft, fleshy, skin of his hip, right above his swim shorts.

"Eddie! Jesus!" Steve squaks, trying to push Eddie away and pull him closer all at once.

Eddie perks back up, pulls Steve close, and presses his laughter into Steve's neck. And then his teeth are on Steve's skin, and he's gasping again, hands grabbing at Eddie's shoulders. Eddie's tongue soothes over the bite and then he's looking at Steve again.

"You're beautiful. Like this, or any other way. Okay? Always." Eddie says, moving his hands over Steve's sides, giving his love handles a hard, possessive, squeeze. Steve laughs, Eddie's antics tickling, he squirms, toward Eddie, into his waiting arms.

"Okay. If you say so." Steve sighs into Eddie's shoulder. Eddie's hand moves up, over Steve's back and into his hair.

"I do say. You're beautiful. Thin, or chubby, or scarred, or fat, or whatever else you might be in the future. You're beautiful." He pauses, pulls back so he can see Steve's face.

"And I'll tell you that whenever you need to hear it okay? For as long you're mine." Eddie's whispering, speaking so softly into the space between them.

"That sounds nice." Steve says, his throat tight, and burning, tears clouding his vision. Eddie chuckles, his chest vibrating against Steve's.

"Which part?" He asks, moving one finger across Steve's forhead, tucking a loose strand of hair away. Steve sniffles, shakes his head and tries not to cry.

"Being yours." He says, his lips trembling as he returns the bright smile across from him. Eddie nods, Steve nods back. They meet in the middle, another sweet press of lips, Eddie's fingers dig into Steve's soft skin and pull him close, like he's trying to climb inside him.

"Mine." Eddie sighs, Steve breathes the word in like he needs it to live. His own fingers dig into Eddie's back, tugging him closer, smiling against Eddie's lips as he sighs,

"Yours." back into Eddie's mouth.

#steddie #chubby!steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie blurb #my fic #mine #my writing

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The only thing Eddie is dreading as much as Steve’s return for his things is Wayne’s inevitable question about where Steve is at all.

After all, Steve has practically been living with them for weeks – something that Eddie may not have allowed himself to consider the significance of, but which Wayne cannot have failed to notice. Though Steve had (apparently) felt the need to do things around the trailer to stay in Wayne’s good graces, he really didn’t have to worry about it; Wayne likes him, and he’ll be asking sooner or later just where Steve has gone.

‘Sooner’ comes two nights after Eddie royally fucks things over. It’s Wayne’s night off, and there’s really no avoiding him; their new trailer is bigger than the last, but it’s still close quarters, and Eddie gets caught when he passes through the living room to get a drink from the kitchen.

“Noticed Steve isn’t here tonight,” Wayne says, blunt as hell, because he doesn’t see the point in doing things any other way.

“Nope,” Eddie says shortly, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap.

“Wasn’t here last night, either,” Wayne goes on.

“He was not,” Eddie confirms.

“Wasn’t here when I got in yesterday morning,” Wayne says.

“You are a veritable font of observation tonight,” Eddie says, only a little snarky.

Wayne shrugs. “Hard not to notice when he’s here nine days out of ten, then suddenly up and disappears,” he says. He pauses a moment before adding, “Stuff’s gone from the bathroom, too.”

Eddie occupies himself with slowly swallowing down half his glass of water before he answers. “Yeah.”

“Don’t suppose he’s going on a trip,” Wayne doesn’t quite ask, and Eddie lets out a bitter sort of laugh.

“Loving the optimism from you, but no, not… not so much.”

There are a few beats of silence, and then Wayne lets out a slow sigh. Eddie knows him well enough to understand the sound of it – he’s just decided to get involved.

“You two have a fight?”

“Something like that,” Eddie mutters.

“Well that’s vague as hell, son. You have a fight, or didn’t you?” Wayne prods.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “No, I– I don’t think so. I think it was all me,” he says, finally looking up from his glass and meeting Wayne’s questioning gaze. “I fucked up, Wayne.”

There’s no immediate judgement coming from Wayne, no suspicion or scorn, not even a shake of the head and some variation of “Of course you did.” There’s only a measured sort of curiosity in his stare, the same way it’s been since Eddie was a kid and Wayne was trying to figure him out; it’s sort of comforting in its familiarity, in its neutrality.

“You wanna tell me about it?” Wayne asks.

Eddie knows that if he says no, Wayne will let it go. He might keep sending curious and worried looks Eddie’s way, he might ask a few more prodding questions over the next few days, but he won’t make Eddie say anything he doesn’t want to. And Eddie doesn’t really want to – but he thinks that maybe he needs to.

“If… you had to define mine and Steve’s relationship, what would you say?” Eddie asks after a moment.

Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’d say that feels like a trick question.”

Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh. “It’s not, I swear. I’m seriously curious,” he says. “There are no wrong answers – go.”

“Well,” Wayne says, still eyeing Eddie consideringly, “I don’t know if you kids put labels on things these days or what, but from the outside, I’d say you’re dating. I’d say that boy is fully in love with you and that you’re at least halfway to loving him back.”

“Right.” Eddie gives a jerky nod. “Seems like that’s what pretty much everyone thinks.”

“But that’s not what’s going on,” Wayne takes a guess.

“Well, that depends on your perspective,” Eddie says, a little high and tight.

“Well, the only perspectives worth a damn here’re yours’n Steve’s,” Wayne shoots back. “So what would those be?”

Eddie drains the last of his water, turning away to put the glass in the sink. “Steve… shares your perspective. Or, uh– he did. But I… I didn’t realize he was so serious. I thought we were just kind of messing around.”

The silence from behind Eddie is so thick that he can’t help but finally turn around and meet Wayne’s gaze again.

“That’s a hell of a blind spot, Ed,” Wayne says simply, and Eddie folds in on himself a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. His main defense has always been to become larger than life – to make big gestures and even bigger speeches, but everything about this situation makes him feel like nothing so much as small.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“So, what, you figured out how serious he was and thought you didn’t want that?” Wayne asks, and Eddie hunches a little further in on himself.

“Nope. No, that– would’ve been better, actually. If that’s what happened. But that’s not what happened, because did I mention I fucked up? Because I seriously fucked up.” Eddie’s rambling is stemmed by an expectant look from Wayne. “It’s just – the other night, when the guys were over, we got to talking about it. The whole… me and Steve thing. As in, they thought me and Steve were a thing. And they asked me about it. While Steve was out of the room. And then he, uh. Hm.” Eddie rubs a hand nervously over his chin. “He walked back in when I was in the middle of telling them that he's just a friend and that we’re just having fun. And that’s… when I found out how serious he was.”

“Eddie…”

“I know. I know!” Eddie doesn’t even have to look at Wayne to catch the disappointment coming off of him, so he doesn’t. He scrubs hands over his face and then just leaves him there, telling the rest of the story to his palms. “He was so fucking upset, Wayne, I think– I think I actually made him cry? And the only reason he hasn’t been here to get the rest of his stuff out of the trailer yet is because he was down with a migraine the next day. Like, I hurt him so badly I made him physically ill. So I didn’t just fuck up, but I’m actually a horrible human being and should probably spend the rest of my days living in isolation so I don’t ruin anyone else’s life.”

Wayne is silent for so long that Eddie is eventually forced to peek out from behind his fingers.

“You’re not gonna tell me how bad I fucked up?” Eddie asks, still a bit muffled.

“Seems like you have that covered already,” Wayne says, then he holds up one arm in offer, nodding towards the empty spot beside him on the couch. “C’mere.”

He doesn’t need to ask Eddie twice. No matter how old he gets, Eddie doesn’t think a genuine hug from his uncle will ever stop being comforting, and regardless of whether or not he thinks he actually deserves it right now, he’s going to take it. He crashes down onto the couch and leans heavily into Wayne’s side, sighing as Wayne wraps his arm around his shoulders.

“You’re not a bad person, Ed. You made a mistake, s’all,” Wayne says, and Eddie scoffs.

“Pretty big fucking mistake,” he mutters.

“Yep, that was a doozy. You hurt someone you care about, and you might not be able to fix it all the way. But that doesn’t make you terrible. Makes you human.” Wayne gives Eddie a comforting squeeze. “And Steve ain’t a bad person, either. He’ll know you mean it when you tell him you’re sorry.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

“You think about what you’re gonna do when he does show to get the rest of his stuff?” Wayne asks.

“Besides grovel?” Eddie shoots back.

“I mean, what’re you gonna grovel for?”

Eddie lets out a long breath. “I… I know I might not be able to fix it, but I just – I want the chance to try. I’m hoping he’ll just give me that chance.” Eddie pauses for a moment, choked by the dread of the thought that Steve might not give him that chance. “Things don’t have to go back to the way they were, but I at least want him to know that even if I’m shit at showing it, I do care.”

“Sounds like a decent place to start,” Wayne says.

“Think so?” Eddie asks.

“Mm.”

“Well… I hope Steve thinks so, too.”

Wayne gives his shoulders another squeeze and says nothing more, but he doesn’t really have to. He’s already settled Eddie’s nerves more than he’d thought possible; just this is more than enough.

Now Eddie just has to try to hold onto the feeling long enough to talk to Steve.

-

It turns out, Eddie doesn’t have to hold onto the feeling for very long at all; the very next morning—two days after Robin had read Eddie the riot act and left him to begin tentatively planning—another knock comes at the door.

It’s ten in the morning – not as early as Eddie had expected, but early enough that he’s not long out of bed when he opens the door to find Steve on the other side.

In contrast to Eddie’s sweatpants and t-shirt, Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to look like he’s alright. His polo is clean and tucked in, the collar is straight, his hair is as perfectly styled as ever – but there’s still something off. There are dark circles under his eyes, stark against a paler than normal complexion, and none of the ease or contentment that Eddie has grown used to shines from his face. He feels a little like he wants to mourn its absence.

“Hey,” Steve says, nodding in greeting.

“Hey,” Eddie says back, because for all his thoughts and planning, he hadn’t really considered how to start this encounter.

“I came to get my shit out of your way,” Steve says, and Eddie frowns.

It’s not in my way, he wants to say. You’re not in my way. Leave your stuff. Stay.

“Uh. Yeah, sure,” Eddie says instead, stepping aside to let Steve in.

Steve is carrying a cardboard box, but doesn’t seem to have anything or anyone else in tow. For as spread throughout Eddie’s life as Steve has become, he wonders if all of him will fit into that one box.

“Kinda surprised you didn’t bring Buckley to help pack,” Eddie says, glancing back out the screen door, as if Robin might appear out of nowhere.

“Just dropped her off at work,” Steve says. “I figured she probably already had… words for you when she picked up my meds, and I didn’t think any of us needed an encore.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says quietly. “The stuff she said got me thinking.”

In the process of grabbing a jacket he’d left behind off one of the hooks by the door, Steve only glances back at Eddie. “I’m sure she had a lot to say,” he says, carefully neutral.

“Yeah. She, uh – definitely did. Can we talk?” Eddie asks.

Steve sighs. “Eddie…”

“Just hear me out, please. Then I’ll get out of your way and let you pack in peace, I promise,” Eddie says.

“We don’t– have to talk about it,” Steve says, turning back to face Eddie. “Look, I’m sorry for putting my weird expectations on you. I was reading into stuff that wasn’t there, and I made assumptions instead of just talking to you, and that’s on me. So I’m gonna just – get out of your hair, and you won’t have to deal with my stupid, delusional bullshit anymore.”

“No, that’s not– Steve–” Eddie reaches out for Steve as he tries to brush past on his way to the bedroom, where most of his belongings are. He gets a hand around Steve’s bicep and, though Steve doesn’t jerk away this time, he goes stiff and still beneath Eddie’s touch, prompting Eddie to let go.

It hurts; even though Eddie’s done it to himself, the reaction still hurts. He’s always reached for Steve in the past, always had his hands on him, and Steve had always welcomed him, even before they’d started sleeping together. Now, Eddie takes a step back, forcing himself to give Steve some space.

“That’s not what I want to say at all,” he says. “I mean – I would’ve liked if we’d talked about it, because then I would’ve known, and I could’ve appreciated what it was – what we were doing.”

Steve turns back to face Eddie, his gaze snapping straight to him with equal suspicion and confusion. “What?”

“Steve, you weren’t reading into things that weren’t there, you’re not– you’re not stupid or delusional, I was just – I was sending you mixed signals,” Eddie says. “I was so wrapped up in thinking that I knew what was going on, that I didn’t look at what I really had, and I’m sorry. But if I knew, if I’d just gotten my head out of my ass, you have to believe that in a heartbeat, I would have–”

“Don’t,” Steve cuts in sharply.

“Steve–”

“I don’t need whatever this is, Eddie,” Steve snaps. “You don’t need to have pity on your pathetic ex-whatever I am to you, okay? It’s okay, just– just let it go.”

“This isn’t pity,” Eddie insists with an incredulous little laugh. “It’s fucking not, I swear! This is me saying that I fucked up and I hurt you and I want to make it up to you. I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I want the chance to show you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me– in whatever capacity you’ll let me.”

“Whatever capacity?” Steve stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Whatever you’ll be comfortable with. As a friend, or… as more, if that bridge hasn’t burned,” Eddie says.

“What, so now I’m relationship material?” Steve asks, pointed.

Eddie winces. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that, and if I could go back in time and slap myself upside the head before I let any of that shit out and hurt you with it, I would. I know that… I know I didn’t pay enough attention to you, but I also wasn’t paying very much attention to how I was feeling,” he says. “Because honestly? I’m kind of a moron, Steve. I’ve never had sex with someone I really liked, with someone who was anything like a friend, and when I started wanting to be around you all the time, and always wanting you within reach, and when every little thing started to remind me of you, I just thought… yeah, this is what friends-with-benefits feels like. Y’know, like a fucking idiot.”

Steve doesn’t laugh. “I don’t know if I can trust you on that,” he says softly, and that’s fair.

It hurts, but it’s fair.

“Then let me earn your trust back. Please, Steve, just… give me the chance,” Eddie implores, doesn’t even care that he’s basically begging – Eddie doesn’t beg, but for Steve, he’ll make an exception. For Steve, he thinks he’ll do just about anything.

Pursing his lips, Steve looks at the floor beside Eddie’s feet for a long moment, and Eddie gives him the time to sort his thoughts out.

“I want to say yes. Part of me just wants to accept your apology and pretend that none of this happened. Just keep going the way we were,” he says. “But I can’t keep doing that – ignoring shit. I just… can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Eddie says. “I don’t want things to be like they were before, I want – I want to be better. I want to do better.”

“How?” Steve asks, both challenging and curious.

“I want to do it right. I want to show you how much I appreciate you, and how much you mean to me. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated,” Eddie insists. “And if that’s just by being the best friend I can be, then that’s what I’ll do, but I would love—love—if you’d let me romance you.”

That briefly breaks through Steve’s stony façade, and he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Romance me?”

“Shit, yeah. Flowers and chocolates and candle-lit dates – the whole nine yards,” Eddie says with a slow grin. “All the things you’ve given other people but that no one has ever given you.”

“I…” Steve starts, his own humor fading quickly. “I don’t know.”

It’s better than an outright ‘no.’

“That’s okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t have to know right now. I can wait. I’m a patient kinda guy.”

(That’s an absolute lie, and they both know it, but Eddie will find all the patience in the world if Steve needs time to think.)

Slowly, Steve nods. “I think… Just, give it a couple of weeks, okay? Really think about it, and if this – if I’m something you still want by then, come talk to me again,” he says. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods rapidly. “As much time as you want. I’m not going to up and change my mind. Two weeks, I’ll ask again.”

Steve shrugs, taking a step back towards the bedroom.

“I will,” Eddie promises – not defensive, but certain. He can wait two weeks. He can wait as long as Steve needs him to. Maybe he can take the time to get his shit together.

He does care about Steve. He does pay attention – and he’s going to prove it.

But in the meantime, the only thing Steve has asked for is space, so Eddie gives it to him. He retreats to the kitchen to let Steve pack up in peace, trying hard not to feel bereft at the thought of the gaps Steve will be leaving behind.

If he’s lucky—if he’s very, very lucky—it won’t be forever.

Part 5

-

Tag List (drop me a line if you want on or off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e

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#steddie #eddie & wayne #eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote #I write wayne once a year so here's my annual allotted amount I guess #listen you know I love hurt/comfort and I love happy endings but one thing you should never expect from me is consistent chapter lengths #things happen as they happen!

[mixsethaddams]

Steddie fic that was originally a twitter thread. Hurt/comfort, light angst, pining Steve, happy ending, roughly 6.5k words. Enjoy!

Look. It wasn’t like Steve was jealous, ok? Envious of the situation, maybe. But not jealous of the person. He was still burnt by Nancy rejecting him for Jonathan again. That was all.

After Vecna, he’d thrown himself into caring for everyone else just like always. Visited Max every day and helped her get used to her wheelchair. Drove Lucas to see her. Drove Robin to meet Vicky. He even helped Eddie and Wayne move into their new house.

Steve liked spending time around Eddie and his uncle. It was the type of family unit he never thought actually existed. He couldn’t fathom living somewhere so cramped and not tearing each other apart. He liked being alone with Eddie in the yard for a quick smoke, too.

Steve was kind of disappointed when there was no reason to spend time with them after they were all moved in. He told himself it was just because he didn’t have much else to occupy his time once Max came back home and Robin got her driving license.

The few times Steve did catch a passing glance at Eddie after he’d pick Dustin up from a D&D session, he had to fight against the urge to come up with an excuse to stay. He just… he was sure hanging out with Eddie would help ease the loneliness that he felt. That’s all.

So when the kids suggested a party at the end of the summer before going back to school, Steve thought it would be the perfect excuse to get some quality time in Eddie’s orbit. It wasn’t like he wanted them to be best friends or anything, just closer than they were.

They were probably too different to ever really get along in any meaningful way, but still. Steve still wanted to be near him. A male friend his own age, right? Is that so bad? He hadn’t had one since Tommy. He missed the specific type of camaraderie that came with it.

Steve was delighted when Eddie sat beside him in his kitchen on the day of the party. Their elbows knocked while they spoke to each other and those around them. They laughed and whispered behind their hands at the kids. It was perfect.

Well. At least until Steve had to excuse himself to make a phone call. Only… that was a lie. Because Steve was sitting on the floor of his bathroom with tears streaming down his face and a tightness in his chest he hadn’t ever felt before.

Everything had been going so well... Until the doorbell rang and Eddie jumped up to answer it, leaving Steve halfway through a sentence. When Eddie came back, smile so wide his eyes were practically crinkled shut, he introduced the whole group to his new girlfriend.

It was easy for Steve to pass it off as a bad call with his parents when Robin came looking for him twenty minutes later. He told her he’d be fine, but had a headache now and was ducking out early. Not the first time it happened so it was easy to believe.

Steve curled up on his bed while the party wound down downstairs. He found himself simultaneously straining to hear Eddie’s voice, and flinching when he heard that unfamiliar high pitched laugh. Her laugh.

It sounded like everyone liked her. There was no awkward silences and her voice was wound right into the cracks of every conversation. Steve clamped his hands over his ears when he finally couldn’t take it anymore. He was happy for Eddie. He was!

He just missed that New Relationship phase. It wasn’t like Steve couldn’t go out and get laid any time he wanted. He could. He did. He just always ended up wishing he was hanging out with Eddie instead after leaving them back at their houses.

Steve sniffled and shook his head roughly against his pillow. He was being selfish. He knew that. His chance to have a closer friendship with Eddie was ruined by some girl. Vague memories of high school name calling wormed their way back into Steve’s brain.

It was a bitter thought, to think how much Tommy Hagan would be surprised by Eddie having a real life girlfriend and not just someone that everyone was sure he’d made up. Steve half thought about calling his old friend to crack some jokes about it, make a little fun.

It only made the hollow feeling inside him grow to think like that. He felt silly, really. Getting so upset over a person who still thought of him as a high school bully dating someone. Steve fell asleep as the sun rose, hours after everyone went home.

They went everywhere together. But that’s what couples did, wasn’t it? They spent time together. Steve just kind of wished Eddie didn’t have to bring her, Sara, along with him every time he came to Family Video.

Steve felt himself getting almost angry whenever they walked through the door, holding hands and cooing over each other. He’d find a way to busy himself to avoid dealing with them and a couple of times even point blank ignored them.

The day he caught them kissing in the store was not his finest hour. He snapped that it was the middle of a Saturday afternoon and to get the fuck out, don’t do that shit when there’s kids around. Eddie looked confused, almost hurt.

He muttered something about kissing not being illegal while he pulled Sara out of the store behind him. She was sheepishly giggling and Steve wanted to yell at her to fuck off again. People getting boyfriends or girlfriends never bothered him this much before.

Robin finally getting with Vickie never made him jealous. Dustin and Suzie, Will and Mike, none of them. He sighed and ran a hand over his face.

“What is wrong with you?” asked Robin, appearing behind him. “Since when do you throw people out for kissing?”

“I just don’t need to see it,” said Steve. He turned to grab a pile of tapes to restock.

“Are you jealous?” teased Robin.

“No,” snapped Steve, louder than he intended. Robin stood in silent shock. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “I just… I miss that, I guess,”

Robin eyed him carefully.

“You miss what, exactly?” she asked. “Eddie? I didn’t know you guys were close,”

“No, not…” Steve sighed again. “I just don’t like friends ditching us for someone they barely know. That’s all,”

Robin pursed her lips.

She knew as well as Steve did that was almost the opposite of what Eddie was doing. He brought Sara along to get-togethers, and invited everyone to join them when they went to Indy for the day, or to the quarry to swim. Everyone else had welcomed her warmly.

Because she was nice. And isn’t that just the fucking worst? Steve tried his hardest to deny it to himself but she was a sweetheart. It was no wonder they all loved her. A stone settled in his stomach when he thought that Eddie might actually love her too.

No one fought back too hard against Steve when he kept skipping out on spending time with everyone. His mood lately had been enough to make them almost glad that the dark cloud wouldn’t be joining them. He preferred to sit and stew by himself anyway.

He’d hang out with Robin like normal but even she was starting to run out of ways to avoid talking about Eddie. Because people had noticed. They’d have to be blind not to. It was painfully obvious that whenever Eddie (and Sara) was mentioned, Steve soured.

Steve couldn’t even blame everyone else for finding it awkward. Eddie was their friend and they wanted to be around him. That’s all Steve wanted too! They were on the same side here! Once or twice he felt like throwing a tantrum and reminding them HE was there first.

Especially Robin and Dustin. Whenever he was feeling particularly sore about his failure of an attempt to build a closer relationship with Eddie, he wondered why they had managed to get what he wanted.

It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with him. He used to be the most popular guy in school! He had charm! It should have been so easy to get Eddie to want to be around him too. Steve often found himself wishing Eddie was next to him watching tv at home.

Just a subtle thing. He’d hear a joke on some sitcom and wonder if Eddie would find it funny. Or if the latest song on the radio would make him nod his head. Steve thought back to one of the days he helped Eddie and Wayne move into their house.

There was a song playing downstairs while they hung blinds in his room. Steve couldn’t remember the song or the tune, but he could tell you exactly which one of the freckles on Eddie’s nose were covered with tiny paint splashes. All he could remember was Eddie.

And see, Steve’s not an idiot. He knows, okay? He’s known ever since Sara turned up in his fucking kitchen and he felt like Eddie’s smile was sharp enough to slit his throat. He fought it from the start. Told himself again and again that it was nothing. It’d pass.

Throwing them out of the store was all Steve needed to admit to himself that maybe a closer friendship wasn’t all he’d been hoping for, when he lay awake at night wondering what would happen if he just drove on over there. He liked to drift to sleep thinking about it.

Robin caught on quick. She wasn’t dumb either, you see. She was able to see the way Steve’s brows turned down a split second before furrowing when the happy couple came into the store on a friday night. She never mentioned it, but Steve knew she knew.

It wasn’t until well into the winter that Steve actually saw Eddie without Sara attached to his hip. He came through the door while Steve and Robin were preparing to close up the store for the night, rapping his knuckles on the counter to get their attention.

Robin shot Steve a careful look before greeting him and asking what movie he wanted.

“Nah not tonight,” Steve heard him tell her from where he’d turned his back to rewind tapes.

“Just here for a visit?” asked Robin.

“I’m on my way to give Sara a ride home from work,”

Steve’s stomach clenched at the mention of her name.

“I’m actually here to invite you guys out somewhere, week after next one,” said Eddie. “A party, kind of,”

“Oh yeah?” asked Robin brightly. Steve knew she loved parties. “What’s the occasion?”

“Well,” said Eddie with a long breath. “Sara’s got some family up in Michigan, and her cousin offered her a job running the place she owns,” Steve had stopped moving. Please. Please no. “And it’s too good to turn down soooo,”

Eddie cleared his throat.

“I’m throwing a going away party,” finished Eddie.

“For Sara?” said Robin. “Oh that’s so sweet,”

Steve could tell Robin was still a half step behind. He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could. Please, not this….

Eddie let out a small laugh, he sounded almost nervous.

“Actually, uh,” Eddie drummed his fingertips on the counter. “For both of us,” Steve opened his eyes and felt his breath shorten as Eddie continued. “I’m going with her,”

Steve, back still turned, gripped the vhs case in his hand so hard he could feel the edges about to crack.

“Wait, you’re…” Robin stuttered. “What?”

“I’m going with her,” repeated Eddie. “To Michigan. She asked me to come last weekend,”

“She says there’s some metal bars I can try find work in,” explained Eddie. Steve could hear the edge of excitement in his voice. “And maybe I’ll join a new band up there too, who knows,”

“Your band!” exclaimed Robin. “Oh god, what are they going to do without you?”

“They’ll figure it out,” said Eddie. Steve could practically hear him shrugging. “Better off without my reputation holding them back anyway,”

Steve focused on keeping his breathing steady. He picked up another tape, hoping his shaking hands weren’t too obvious.

“This is…” Robin started. “Eddie are you sure about this?”

“What?” he asked. “Yeah! I mean this is the fresh start I wanted and Saras great. All I can think about is how she wants me there, no-one wants me anywhere,”

Steve held back the scoff that built in his throat

“And I’m happy for you,” said Robin. “We all are-" She reached back and placed a hand on Steve’s back, which he subtly shook by moving sideways. “-but isn’t this a little, I don’t know, soon? You’ve only been together a couple months,”

Eddie was quiet for a beat.

“This is something I’ve dreamed about, this chance,” said Eddie flatly. “New life, great girl. Whats your issue?”

“Eddie its not that easy to-“

“Buckley?” Eddie cut her off quickly. “Either be supportive or don’t okay? I already got this lecture from Wayne”

“I just-“

“I really don’t need to hear it from anyone else” said Eddie. “Am I putting your name on the guestlist or not?”

Robin sighed.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be there,” she said. “Vickie too,”

“Great!” said Eddie, instantly brighter, a sharp edge to it now. “Harrington? You too?”

Steve spoke over his shoulder.

“Working that night,” he said simply. “Can’t,”

“Seriously?” said Eddie. “You don’t even know what night it’s on!"

“Yeah well,” said Steve, finally turning around to look Eddie in the eye. “It’s probably a safe bet so, count me out,”

“I don’t get you, man,” mumbled Eddie, looking him up and down. Steve shrugged and turned his head to watch the lone customer browsing through the aisles.

“Enjoy the party,” said Steve simply.

“Whatever,” said Eddie, pushing off the counter and going out the door.

“Steve…” said Robin gently.

“Don’t.” He warned.

“Are you really not going?” she asked.

“I can’t watch that,” he told her. The customer waved him over. Before he went to them, he looked to Robin again. “Don’t try to make me,” he said.

She just nodded.

Steve stuck to his word and didn’t go to the party. He had started to get angry about everything, truth be told. He felt a flare in his stomach when he thought about why he had to fall for someone who not only didn’t like him back, but was leaving the state too.

It didn’t seem fair. All Steve wanted in life was someone to love, but everytime he tried to open himself up to it, he got knocked back. He browsed a magazine in the gas station that gave the advice “get over them by getting under someone else” in large bold letters.

So thats what he’d been doing. Steve had called up every girl he knew with a pretty smile and spent every single night, getting over Eddie. It was easy to lie to himself and pretend it was working.

Whenever any of the kids came by the store to rent a movie, Steve pretended to be busier than he was to avoid them. They all had stories about Eddie, reminiscing about good times and getting sad in the run up to his leaving date. Steve didn’t need to hear it.

One night, a quiet Saturday right before closing, Steve counted to 10 and asked Robin how the party went. Her smile was tight.

“It was fun,” she said gently.

“And…” Steve took a deep breath. “Eddie had a good time?”

Robin’s eyes were soft.

“He did,” she told Steve. “Sara bought him a new guitar, as a surprise,”

Steve swallowed hard and looked away. The flare of anger tried to brush through his ribcage again. Instead it felt weak, too drowned out by the heavy feeling behind his eyes.

“Does he love her?”

Robin chewed the inside of her cheek as she considered Steve’s question.

“He’s following her to another state,” she said after a moment. “That must mean something,”

Steve nodded.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Guess it does,”

*

"Come on, it'll be fun, it's only for two nights and it'll take your mind off everything,"

Robin was trying to convince Steve to join the other older members of the party for a weekend in some cabins in a national park in Tennessee.

Argyle's family owned them and, as a Thank You for welcoming him into their little group, had promised them free use of them whenever they wanted. Nancy would be going overseas to study for six months after New Years, so it was a kind of send off for her.

It was well into December now though, and Steve didn't feel like freezing his balls off alone in a cabin. He hadn't seen Eddie's van around for a little while, but there had been a small ad in the classifieds from Sara's family wishing her luck with her new life.

That was really all Steve needed to tell him that they were gone. Eddie was gone. A few days of peace and quiet wouldn't be the worst thing to clear his head. Well. That, and Argyle's guaranteed van full of weed.

As if to read his mind, Robin spoke up again.

"They're got these huge wood fires in the cabins, and me and you will have a whole one to ourselves," she said. "And no kids! We can have some drinks and just relax. Please, Steve?"

Steve eyed her carefully.

"I don't know, Rob," said Steve, sighing. "Argyle will have tons of room in his van for you, and he'll bunk with you if you don't want to be alone,"

"But! But!" Her eyes were wide.

Steve smirked.

"Tell me the truth and I'll say yes," he said, teasing.

"What?" she tried hard to look confused, bless her.

"Tell me that this has nothing to do with wanting to comfort Nancy," dared Steve, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Robin balked.

"Thats...! That's not...!" she stammered.

Nancy and Jon's break up had been kept quiet. None of the kids knew yet. They agreed that another stint of long distance would be too much for them, so they parted ways. It was clean, easy. It made Steve sad in his own way.

Robin and Vickie's breakup was less easy. She decided that Steve and Robin's friendship was something she couldn't be comfortable with. Robin had no choice but to understand, and Vickie had no choice but to walk away when Robin chose Steve over her.

Steve laughed.

"It's okay, Rob," said Steve. "I just don't get why you need me there for it,"

Robin finally gave up the act.

"So you can be my getaway driver if it doesn't go well," she said like it was obvious.

Steve laughed again.

"Alright fine," said Steve. "But...even if it goes well, she's still leaving,"

"I know," sighed Robin. "I just... I just feel like I have to try, you know? I don't want to be too late," Steve wished he could be so optimistic. Even a day apart would kill him, nevermind six months.

"Is that crazy?" asked Robin. "To want to do this and then wait for her?"

"No," mused Steve. "Just don't hop on a plane and follow her. That would be crazy,"

Robin laughed. "Well if Eddie is following Sara-"

Her eyes went wide. Robin clamped a hand over her mouth as Steve's chest constricted.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't-"

Steve held his hand up.

"It's fine," he lied. "When's the trip again? Gotta get gas, and food, you know?"

"Steve I-"

"When, Rob?"

Steve's stomach was lurching violently, caught off guard by the mention of his name. And hers. He rubbed the back of his hand over his forehead.

"Um, this weekend," said Robin quietly. "We'll need to leave Friday morning,"

"Ok," nodded Steve. "I'll be there,"

The drive was better than Steve expected. Robin was a good passenger. She could read a map and always had the snacks ready to hand him. Steve had never been to this part of Tennessee before, so he was happy when Robin directed him onto the final dirt trail.

Robin spotted it before he did, parked right between two of the three cabins.

"Oh," she gasped. "Steve, I...I didn't know, I swear, you have to believe me,"

"What?" mumbled Steve, looking at her before following her gaze.

Steve took a second before he realised what he was looking at.

"I didn't know," Robin repeated quietly.

Steve gripped the steering wheel hard. There was no mistaking it. Right there, loud and proud.

Eddie's van.

Steve slid out of the driver’s seat carefully. Argyle came towards them with wide arms and a wider smile.

“Welcome, Brochaco and Brochacette!” he said brightly. “Who wants to learn all about the wonders of the safe keeping of your woodland abode?”

Robin stepped forward and Argyle directed her to the middle cabin. Steve was glad, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to focus. His eyes were already darting around, trying to spot Eddie. Hoping he didn’t see Sara instead. Nancy ran towards him.

“Steve!” She yelled happily.

“I’m glad you came,” she said, hugging him.

Steve almost didn’t hear her. Over her shoulder he saw him. Sitting on a low camping chair around a small firepit, chatting quietly with Jonathan, was Eddie.

“Come say hi!” She pulled him by the arm towards the others.

Steve rapidly counted the chairs around the fire. Six. If anyone had brought a…plus one…there’d be seven. Or maybe they hadn’t expected Steve to join and the empty chair next to Eddie did have an owner?

“Hey man,” said Jonathan. “Sit, fire’s great,”

Steve considered the chairs again. Eddie hadn’t even looked up to great him, instead keeping his gaze on the fire. Nancy wandered towards the cooler to unearth a bottle of white wine, while Jonathan left in search of a lighter.

“She’s not here, just sit down,” said Eddie cooly.

Steve looked at Eddie with wide eyes. He still wasn’t looking up, but his jaw was set and his hand gripped the neck of his beer bottle tightly. Steve sat down in the chair next to Eddie feeling like a scolded pupil.

“How, uh,” started Steve. “How come?”

Eddie puffed a sarcastic laugh into his bottle as he raised it for a swig.

“You don’t care,” he said.

Steve couldn’t defend himself. Eddie was right, he didn’t care. Robin and Argyle returned, all knowledge of safely lighting the indoor stove passed on.

“Glad you’re here, my guy,” said Argyle, sitting down and leaning over to fist bump Steve. “Figured you might like a chance to be with the whole gang again, now that the Ed Man swung back for a visit,”

“Yeah, this is great,” said Steve, only mildly grinding his teeth.

Steve knew the chill down his spine had nothing to do with the chill of the late afternoon. He was trembling in Eddie’s presence, with half a mind to just jump in his car and peel out of there. Robin would understand, he was sure of it.

Truly, Steve didn’t know if he was happy or sad to see him. His stomach churned everytime Eddie spoke in conversation, as everyone’s voice got louder as the day grew darker and the beers flowed faster. At the same time, he could barely turn his head to look at him.

It was like he didn’t feel like he had permission to look at him. He belonged to someone else and Steve had made himself clear; he wanted nothing to do with it. The night was cool around them when groups broke off.

Nancy and Robin where huddled together, having pulled their chairs close and covered themselves with a blanket. Jon and Argyle where leaning back and looking at the stars, softly speaking through private smiles. Eddie and Steve were quiet.

Steve had picked the label entirely off his bottle and rubbed the remaining glue until it was smooth. Once or twice he thought he heard Eddie inhale in a way that would signal the start of a sentence, but nothing ever came. Eventually, Steve got up and walked away

He didn’t go far, just around the back of the cabins. It was lit nicely by the moon and he could see into the woodland around them. It was peaceful, and he felt his chest loosen slightly now that he was further away from Eddie.

Steve took a cigarette out of his pocket and fumbled for a lighter before realising he didn’t have one. Sighing, he leaned down on the fence and watched the darkness between the trees. He knew it should scare him.

After everything they’ve been through, a still and perfect blackness should make his skin twitch, but he just felt a sort of comfort in it. Steve watched a small mouse scurry between some fallen leaves, and wondered if it had somewhere warm nearby to sleep.

A crack of a twig behind him made Steve jump. He turned quickly to see Eddie rounding the corner of the cabin.

“Sorry,” he said flatly. “I’ll find somewhere else,”

“Wait,” said Steve. “You stay, I need to find a lighter anyway,” He waved his unlit cigarette.

Eddie rolled his eyes and approached Steve, lighting his own smoke before handing the lighter to him.

“Thanks,” said Steve, lifting it to his lips. He felt like his chest was about to wring itself inside out with how hard it was squeezing.

Eddie leaned on the fence next to Steve.

“What are you doing here?” asked Eddie after a while.

“Oh, uh?” said Steve. “Just wanted some time alone I guess?”

“Not here,” said Eddie, clicking his tongue. “Here, like, the cabins. You haven’t come anywhere for months,”

Steve swallowed. He didn’t want to say ‘I didn’t think you’d be here’. That would just be rude.

“Robin…” he said. “She asked me to come,”

Eddie hummed.

“How about you?” asked Steve. “I thought you were in Michigan,”

Eddie smoked quietly.

“I was,” he agreed.

“When are you... going back?” asked Steve in spite of himself. He should have been overjoyed to finally have some one on one time with Eddie after pining for it for so long, but he couldn’t let himself enjoy it, knowing it wouldn’t last.

Eddie didn’t answer. Steve took a nervous drag of him smoke and tried something different.

“Will Wayne go see you up there, do you think?” he asked. Eddie rolled his head around on his shoulder.

“No Steve,” he said almost matter-of-factly. “I don’t think he will,”

“Oh,” said Steve. “How, uh, how come?”

Eddie took a deep breath.

“No use going up there if…” Eddie hesitated. “If I’m not there,”

Steve’s brow furrowed.

“What?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t you be there?”

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Changed my mind, I guess,” he said with a soft shrug.

Steve was confused.

“I don’t…” he said. “I don’t understand?”

“Me neither,” said Eddie, softening slightly. “Haven’t even told anyone else yet. I drove us up there and I just…” Eddie cleared his throat. “Drove right on back,”

Steve could feel his eyebrows touch at this point.

“But… you were so excited,” said Steve. “It was your fresh start. What…what happened? What do mean you drove back?” asked Steve.

Eddie breathed out heavily.

“It didn’t feel right,” he said. “I think I realised it right after we hit the highway. I was too caught up in it to see that it just wasn’t…right,”

Steve was quiet.

“I got lost in the idea that, I don’t know,” Eddie waved his hand around. “Someone wanted me, and I just kind of went with the flow. Didn’t matter where it was taking me,”

“But, you wanted to leave, right?” asked Steve.

Eddie shrugged again.

“Thought I did,” said Eddie. “But then all I could think about was Wayne being alone and I…wanted to be back in the trailer with him. I wanted Hawkins,”

“So…You’re doing long distance, then?” asked Steve.

Eddie hummed again, pulling a final drag from his smoke.

“Like I said,” said Eddie quietly. “I was too caught up in feeling wanted,”

“Oh…” said Steve. He wanted to comfort Eddie but wasn’t sure how. He didn’t want Eddie to be unhappy and it did sound like he’d had to make a tough decision, with tougher consequences.

“So you’re back in Hawkins again for good?” asked Steve. He didn’t know if he could handle seeing him everywhere again.

“Yeah,” snorted Eddie. “Back again,”

Steve held the burnt filter of his own smoke in his hand.

“Back in a town I have some fucking stupid attachment to,” continued Eddie. “Half the folks still think I’m a killer but hey, here I am,” Eddie let out a tight laugh. “Who wants me now?” asked Eddie into the darkness, offering the rhetorical question to the night.

Steve knew it wasn’t a question that needed an answer. Really, he did. But when Eddie dropped his hand back onto the fence, it was barely an inch away from his. Steve could practically feel Eddie’s body heat coming from it. His breathing got tight.

Steve stared at their hands, so close. Eddie’s words rang in his ears. I want you, he thought. I want you! Steve slowly shifted his hand to the side of his little fingers brushed Eddie’s. Eddie looked down when he felt it. Steve held his breath.

Steve lifted his little finger to rub to softly against Eddie’s.

“Oh…” Eddie whispered.

“Yeah…” Steve whispered back.

Argyle’s voice cut through the night.

“Steve? Eddie? Where are you? Did a bear get you guys? Do they have bears in this state?”

“Shit” muttered Eddie, pulling his hand away like he’d been burnt. He dropped his spent cigarette to the ground and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I…fuck,” he said under his breath.

He didn’t look at Steve as he walked quickly back to the main clearing.

Steve bent forward slightly and rubbed his hands over his face. He felt like such an idiot. What the hell did he expect would happen? What the fuck was he thinking?

Steve stayed behind the cabins a while longer until Argyle’s voice called to him again. He dried his face as best he could, hoping the darkness would hide what he couldn’t. He came back to the fire and assured Argyle he really didn’t have to fight any bears

Steve smiled at how relieved he and Jonathan seemed. Eddie was staring dead into the fire, the fingertips of one hand drumming over his mouth. Steve could barely look at him. He felt so stupid. Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Robin’s head.

“I’m heading to bed,” he told her quietly.

“Huh?” she asked, barely turning away from Nancy. “Oh, yeah, I’ll be in soon too,”

“Sure you will,” Steve teased with a wink.

He announced his departure to the others and got raised bottles from Jon and Argyle.

Eddie didn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him too. He retreated to his cabin, immediately crossing his arms against the cold when he entered. He stood in front of the large stove fire for a second and debated calling Robin in to light it for him.

After a few minutes of thought Steve decided to just brave the cold. He had a hoodie and long sweats he could wear in bed. He’d be fine, and there were enough blankets on the bed to heat him up quickly. Steve slipped into bed and huddled around himself.

Part of him wished he was in more of a mood to appreciate the beautiful bedroom he was in. Lots of plaid and carved furniture, exactly the type of place his parents would insist was dirty and filled with bugs. Steve knew he’d love it though, if he had the chance to.

It wasn’t so a much a decision of if he would drive home early by himself tomorrow, more so when. Robin clearly didn’t need a getaway driver and after that stunt he pulled with Eddie, Steve wasn’t sure how welcome he’d feel come sunrise.

Steve didn’t even know if Eddie would tell anyone. It’s not like the group would care that they were both men, but admitting a crush, or more than a crush, however subtly right after learning about a breakup? Robin was sweet enough to pull it off. Steve, maybe not.

At the very least, it felt like some sort of ending. Eddie’s reaction had been a definite Full Stop to any idea Steve might have had about his feelings being returned. He wasn’t sure he ever even thought they would be. He just couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Steve tried to convince himself that this was a good thing. That now he had to move on. He had no choice, especially if Eddie was back in Hawkins. He couldn’t avoid him forever, their paths would have to cross eventually. Steve wished they wouldn’t.

Steve buried his face in his pillow and pulled the blankets up over his head, closing his eyes. He’d have plenty of time to dissect everything all over again in his own head in the morning. If he was making the drive back again so soon, he needed some sleep.

Steve had just managed to coax himself into something close to sleep when he heard the front door of the cabin creak open. So Robin did come back, he thought. Maybe she’d be driving back with him after all. He followed her footsteps across the living area.

The sounds of shoes being kicked off and the stove being lit were welcome to his ears. The stairs squeaked, and the floor outside his room, before he heard his door open and feet shuffling across the floor. He pretended to be asleep as the bed behind him dipped.

Steve loved her, he did, but he couldn’t listen to her go on and on about Nancy right now, whether good or bad. They’d talk in the car tomorrow. The blankets rustled and pillows were shifted, before he heard a deep breath being taken.

“Steve?”

Steve’s eyes shot open. His own breath stalled in his chest, because it only now that he realised. That wasn’t Robin.

“Are you awake?” Eddie asked softly.

Steve barely allowed himself to breathe as he turned over in the bed. The room was dark, barely lit by the moon outside, but the outline of Eddie’s features was still unmistakable.

“Hey,” Steve said quietly, afraid if he spoke too loudly he might wake himself from whatever dream he was in.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered back. His expression was almost one of confusion or gentle uncertainty.

“It’s cold in here,” said Eddie when Steve didn't answer. “Lit the stove for you,”

“Thanks,” replied Steve dumbly.

Eddie hummed. His eyes landed on Steve’s hand, resting palm up on the bottom edge of the pillow.

Eddie slowly moved his own hand so his fingertips rested lightly in Steve’s palm.

“Oh,” Steve breathed. His heart thumped so hard he was sure Eddie must be able to hear it.

“Yeah…” said Eddie, just as softly.

“What-” Steve began, before Eddie cut him off.

“Can we wait?” he asked.

“Wait?” asked Steve. “What do you mean?”

Eddie sighed.

“Can we wait until tomorrow to talk about it?” he said. “Can tonight just be…this?”

He gently ran his fingertips over Steve’s palm again

Steve nodded, giving a little ‘uh huh’ sound. Eddie gave him a sweet smile in return, still looking at their hands. They stayed like that for a while, Steve watching Eddie like he thought he was going to disappear while Eddie tapped his fingers soundlessly.

“You scare me, Steve,” said Eddie. Steve almost didn’t hear him, too caught up in watching how the movement of the moon highlighted the different lines of his face to hear the whisper.

“I do?” asked Steve. “Is that…good?”

Eddie shrugged.

“I think so. Stuff like this is supposed to scare you, I think,” said Eddie. “It’s supposed to feel….” Eddie took a breath and Steve watched his eyes move around as he searched for the words.

Steve thought he might wait forever for him to find them.

“It’s supposed to feel like a leap, right?” asked Eddie. “Like you need to trust your gut. It’s not supposed to be easy right away. You have to…want to earn it, I guess”

“And that’s how you feel?” Steve asked him, full of hope. “About me?”

Eddie took a deep breath.

“Yeah,” said Eddie simply. “When you…Outside, earlier, it was like…I don’t know, like an electric shock. But a good one. One I’d never felt before,”

Steve swallowed hard when Eddie took a pause.

“I didn’t know what was wrong with…Sara, that whole thing,” continued Eddie. “Why I wasn’t able to go be with her. But then, I felt that shock from you and I knew. Right away, it was like I just knew what I was missing,”

Steve took a shaky breath.

“I’m scared too,” Steve admitted. “Mostly that I’m dreaming, but, yeah, I’m….me too,”

Eddie laughed quietly at him, before sliding his fingers up to lace loosely with Steve’s.

“You’re not dreaming,” he whispered, squeezing his hand ever so gently.

“So you’ll still be here in the morning?” asked Steve. “When I wake up?”

He felt small suddenly, the vulnerability creeping up his spine again.

“Pinky swear,” said Eddie, shifting his hand again to hook their little fingers together.

Steve smiled.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” said Eddie again in a whisper. “Get some sleep,”

“Okay,” Steve whispered back.

Eddie shuffled an inch closer until their knees knocked together, and Steve felt his breath on their still joined hands.

Eddie smiled at Steve once more before closing his eyes and settling into the pillow. Steve settled too, the warmth of the stove fire finally reaching the room and leeching into the blankets around them. Eddie’s breathing evened out quickly, his lips slightly parted.

Steve hardly dared close his own eyes, afraid that if he blinked too hard Eddie would be gone. But the feeling of their lingering promise, their fingers still curled around each other, kept him grounded. Steve let sleep take him slowly.

The last thought before Steve drifted off was of everything he wanted to say to Eddie in the morning, all the promises he wanted to make. It felt like a beginning now, instead of an ending. Steve fell asleep feeling, in the very best way, absolutely terrified.

#steddie #steve harington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #fluff #pining #getting together #poor steve harrington I really do torture that boy sometimes #seth writes #steve str #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #steddie fic

[louloulemons-posts]

Curly Kisses

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : The different types of kisses you share with eddie.

Word Count : 2.1k

Warnings : not proofread, kisses, talks of sex, hickies/love bites, eddie gets drunk, kisses whilst intoxicated, pure fluff, idiots in love 🤍

A/N : sorry for the lack of updates i started uni recently and i’m trying to find my footing 🫶🏻

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Pre-Date Kisses :

Before you and Eddie got together you were very friendly with one another, always close, laughing, smiling, lingering hugs, hands brushing.

Along with that there were the cheek kisses, the ones that made Eddies cheeks burn and yours ache with smiles. They were sweet and kind and full of admiration.

“Morning,” Eddie smiled as you climbed into the van, “Hello.” You handed him your drink of steaming green tea. “Thank you,” he said, taking a sip, before handing the cup back.

The drive in the morning was how it always was, quiet, but a comfortable silence. The pair of you not awake enough to hold conversation. The air was cool so your body was a lot closer to Eddies trying to steal his heat.

“You okay there?” he asked.

“Chilly.”

“Hold the wheel,” the boy said.

“What?”

“Hold the wheel.”

He took his hands off and began to shrug his jacket off, sending a wave of panic through your body. Leaning across the boy and holding onto the wheel, you tried to keep the van steady and straight.

He dropped his jacket on your lap, sliding your hands off the wheel and placing his own there. “I hate you, you know,” you spoke, sliding your arms through the sleeves.

“Mhm, tell my jacket that.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him, whilst you sunk further into the smokey smelling material.

Pulling into the parking lot, Eddie ran round the van, opening the door for you.

“M’lady,” he said, offering you his hand, sliding your palm into his you played along, “Thank you kind sir.”

Gareth walked over to you, waving hello, “Morning guys.”

“Hey G, look I gotta run okay. I’ll see you later,” you smiled at the pair, taking off Eddies jacket.

He stopped you, “Keep it for now, don’t want you freezing.”

“Thank you Eds,” you smiled, standing on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye,” Gareth waved.

“B-bye,” Eddie stuttered.

The younger boy laughed, “So when are you asking her out?”

“Shut up!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Drunk Kisses :

This was also before you were dating, Eddie was hanging out with some friends and they had got … well drunk was putting it lightly.

Steve had called you to come and pick the boy up, you didn’t mind of course, you wanted him home safe and you knew that would happen if you were there.

Upon arrival Eddie almost launched himself at you, “Missed you,” he said, hugging you close. “Missed you too,” you laughed, “Let’s get you home yeah?”

Eddie was rambling on and on about the fun he had ( “would’ve been better if you were there”). The drive to his trailer wasn’t a long one, but Eddie was drunk and had the coordination of a baby giraffe.

His arm was over your shoulder as you basically dragged him through the door. “Where’s Wayne?” he asked, huffing, so his lips pouted. “He’s a work.”

“Oh yeah,” he laughed.

“Silly boy, come on let’s get ready for bed.”

“You’ll stay?”

“If you want, it’s not the first time we’ve had a sleepover.” The grin on his face was beautiful, he soon picked up speed as you were in his room.

“I’m going to get changed, please don’t injure yourself,” you said, half a joke, half pure concern. “Don’t worry babe, I’m all good,” he winked. Rolling your eyes you headed off to get changed.

Returning to Eddies bedroom you found him sat on the edge of his bed, staring as his feet very intensely. “You good?” You questioned, making the boy jump.

“Mhm, I’m fin- wow,” he paused.

“What?”

“You look good in my clothes,” he motioned to your make shift pyjamas, an old and worn band tee of Eddies and some shorts.

“Wear them all the time Eds.”

“I know you just look … pretty.”

“You think?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, pushing up from the bed and making his way to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time,” he suddenly sounded more sober.

Placing his large palms on either side of your face, his pressed his mouth to yours, a soft kiss. Brushing of lips. Beautiful warmth. You could feel his smile growing against you.

“Eds,” you whispered, pushing him back, but not letting go fully, “You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“Eddie it’s not good to kiss when you’re drunk. How would you feel if I was drunk?”

His face dropped at that, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said, brushing a curl out of his face, “Let’s go to bed, we can talk about this in the morning. Sound good?”

“You’re not going to leave are you?”

“I’d never leave you.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The (Second) First Kiss :

Hearing a groan behind you, you couldn’t hide your laugh. “Morning Sunshine, coffees on the table. Making you some eggs and bacon.”

“You’re an Angel, mind telling me what happened last night.”

“One word : tequila.”

“I’m gonna murder Harrington.”

“Well he told me it was all your idea Pretty Boy, plus I don’t think you’ll be doing anything with that hangover.”

He sat on the couch, cradling a mug of coffee like it was his love and joy. “Did you come and get me?”

“Told you I would.”

“Thank you.”

You slid the food onto the plate, handing it to Eddie, “Eat, I’m going to get dressed and then buy you some gatorade.”

“Then we’ll talk about the kiss?”

His words were muffled with bacon, “What did you say?”

“The kiss. I kissed you. Or did you lie when you said we’d talk about it? If you don’t like me like that I get it.”

You sighed, “Eds it’s not that. You’re my best friend, I’m so scared well ruin it.”

“We won’t, come on it’s us. Plus we’ll never know if we don’t try.”

“Eds-“

“I like you. Do you like me?”

“Yeah.”

“Then there’s our answer.” He put down the plate, standing up go meet your lips.

His hands pulled you closer by the waist, you hands resting at the base of his neck, playing with the curls that lived there.

“We’ll be okay,” he whispered against your mouth. “We’ll be okay,” you repeated, huffing a laugh. “What’s funny?”

“You taste of tequila and bacon.”

The boy groaned, resting his head in your neck, making you smile. “I’ll go get some gatorade, you rest.”

“Thanks Sweetheart,” he said, kissing your head.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Sick Kisses :

“How are you feeling?” You asked, sitting down next to Eddie. He’d called you the night before saying he had come down with something and Wayne was forcing him to stay home.

“Rough,”he said voice hoarse.

“When was the last time you had medicine?”

“Like an hour ago, I can’t have anymore yet.”

You brushed his curls out his face, “I’m sorry you feel sick baby.”

“I feel better now you’re here.” You laughed, “God Munson, even when you’re sick, you’re a sweet talker.”

“Don’t you know it,” he laughed, making himself cough. “Careful,” you spoke, grabbing a glass of water from beside his bed. “Here, take some sips.”

He did, slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re a great nurse.”

“I wish I could make you better,” you said.

“You have. Just by being here.”

“I missed you at school today.”

“I bet, I’m the best.”

Smiling you shook your head, “So cocky,” leaning down to kiss his lips he turned his head. “Hey!” you said.

“We can’t kiss, you’ll get sick.”

“But-“

“Baby no!” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes, groaning, “Fine. I’ll just have to kiss you here,” you pecked his cheek, “And here,”one to his nose, “And here,” a final one to his forehead.

“I’m cured!” he said, grinning, his face flushed. “I knew it’d work. Kisses are the best medicine.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

After-Sex Kisses :

Your breathing slowed, Eddies arm thrown over your waist. His bare chest, against the skin of your back. Your body was sweaty and warm, and felt floaty and beautiful.

“You okay?” he whispered into your hair. You hummed, running your fingers against his arm. “I’m so okay.” You were in a daze like state, you tended to be like this whenever you and Eddie would sleep together.

“Your head a bit fuzzy?”

“Mhm, but it’s good fuzzy,” you reassured him. “Okay baby.” You felt his lips on your shoulder, soft butterfly kisses. This had become a routine.

He clean you up and leave gentle presses at every part of skin he could touch. Even though what you had done before seem a lot more intimate , the kisses made your cheeks burn.

He pressed his mouth on your stomach, thighs, neck, collar bones, arm and all over your face. Your body was tired, your eyes drooping, “Go to sleep baby, I’ve got you.”

You knew he did. You trusted him, letting your mind drift away for the night, feeling the gentle brushes of Eddies lips as you did so.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Embarrassed Kisses :

You laughed, Eddies arms around your middle, as you cooked scrambled eggs for the pair of you. “You, Eddie Munson, are a little goblin.”

“So I’ve been told,” he smiled, kissing the side of your head.

“Go wash up, food will be ready soon.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

“Weird.”

“Oh right, I’m Sir.”

“In your dreams.”

“You know it babe,” he winked, walking to the bathroom.

You stood in front of the stove, Eddies shirt and your shorts on, your skin was on show - the bruised skin. Because apparently Eddie become a vampire when you have sex.

You didn’t mind it, it just meant a lot of makeup or turtlenecks. Humming to yourself as you plated up the eggs and toast, you didn’t hear the door open.

“Morning,” a gruff voice spoke, making you jump slightly. You turned to see Wayne, taking off his shoes, “Uh hi Wayne,” you said, waving a wooden spoon in hand.

“How’s things?” he asked.

“Good.”

“Good,” he looked up from his laces, eyes widening slightly, unable to miss the large love bites littered over your neck and thighs.

“I uh … I made eggs, I was just about to get ready to go,” you said quickly, putting the spoon down. You almost ran to Eddies room grabbing your clothes and changing.

You grabbed your bag, walking down the hall to leave, but bumped into Eddie. “Well hello,” he smiled, before noticing your expression and addition of clothes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, cupping your cheek, brown eyes full of concern. “Waynes home.”

“Yeah?”

“He saw all the … the bites. I’m just a bit embarrassed, so I think I’m gonna go. You eggs are on the counter.”

“Do you want me to drive you?”

“No it’s okay, I’ll call you later.”

“Okay. But uh just so you know, Wayne doesn’t care, he loves us both, he just wants us to be safe. I know you’re embarrassed, but it’s just a thought.”

“Thanks Eds.”

“Anytime Angel.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead, gentle and light, almost like a fairy. He did the same to your mouth.

{After you left}

“So uh you a vampire now?”

“Can we not.”

“You using protection?”

“Of course.”

“Just making sure.”

“I’m not dumb.”

“Whatever you say Dracula.”

“Wayne!”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

I love you Kisses :

Lay side by side, you breathed out looking up to the beautiful night sky. Stars littered across, a crescent moon twinkling brightly, it was so lovely to look at.

“This was a good idea,” Eddie spoke from beside you. “I knew you’d like it.”

“Well I’m with you, I’d like anything.”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriends antics, forever the flirt. You drove out to lovers lake after a long week of work. It was nice to unwind with the person you loved most.

“You remind me of the stars,” Eddie spoke.

“Huh?”

“You remind me of the stars,” he repeated.

“How so?”

“You can’t help but find them beautiful and be in awe of them, even from a billion galaxies away. I feel that way for you, I’d love you billions of galaxies away.”

“Love me?” you asked, heart thumping in your chest. “Yeah, I do, love you that is.” His face was pink, you leaned up on your elbow, smiling down at him. “I love you.”

“You do?” he questioned, almost out of breath. “I do, I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he breathed a laugh, smile breaking over his face.

His hands came to your cheeks pulling you down to meet him, lips met messily, but so lovingly. His tongue danced with yours, pulling you as close as physically possible, pouring every ounce of love and adoration into this one action.

“I love you,” he whispered against your mouth. “I love you Eddie Munson.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

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