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#round table round robin
batbabydamian · 5 months
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Damian Wayne NYCC 2023 Remarks & Commissions!
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Patrick Gleason
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Jorge Jimenez
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Dan Mora
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Jorge Corona
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Simone Di Meo
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Dike Ruan
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criticalsyourroles · 14 days
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now i've watched a fair amount of d&d i've started to pick up on the differences between dm style i think
like brennan IS all the bad guys. every game he dms is brennan vs the players. he makes npcs and battles that make his friends throw things at him and he smirks the whole time. he makes them tell him their worst fears and then he makes them do it. and it's awful and amazing and really funny
matt IS exandria. his characters and battles never feel written or constructed, they just feel like things that already existed in the world. it's all about verisimilitude with him, and he's amazing at it. he tends to fade into the background and let the players react to the story and it makes everything he does incredibly cinematic
aabria dms like she's just another player at the table reacting to the story, right up until someone gets lulled into a false sense of security and tries to fool around and THEN she throws a curveball by making them deal with the consequences of their choices. she's like oh you think that's funny?? then i'm about to be hilarious, bitch. and she keeps getting away with it bc she's just that good!
basically, brennan's an evil bastard, matt's the world, and aabria's the queen of consequences
or:
brennan - fuck
matt - around
aabria - find out
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artzzyb00-27 · 10 days
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Tavern Tales{Elyan x OC}
Robin Hood and his Merrymen meet the Knights of the Round Table. Along with King Arthur and Merlin. What could go wrong? Not much actually, but Elyan deserves more love so here you go.
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Arriving at Camelot came a minstrel, one came from a land near Mercia. Who sang tales of Robin Hood and his legion of Merrymen. The people gathered round to hear the tale. The rhythm of the tale became engraved in everyone's head.
Robin Hood and Little John, walking through the forest
Laughing back and forth at what the other'n has to say
Reminiscing this and that and having such a good time
Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day
Never ever thinking there was danger in the water
They were drinking, they just guzzled it down
Never dreaming that a scheming sheriff and his posse
Was a-watching them and gathering around
Robin Hood and Little John, running through the forest
Jumping fences, dodging trees and trying to get away
Contemplating nothing but escape and finally making it
Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day
Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly, what a day
Eventually, the word made its way to King Uther. He wasn't pleased with the thought of rogues attempting to steal from nobles. So he sent his knights to disband the group. Out of the twelve that left, only five returned. When Arthur became king, he wondered what happened to the group of Merrymen, he had only heard stories in passing at the tavern whilst spending time with his knights and manservant.
Till one faithful day.
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"Merlin! Feed the horses, they're no use to us dead!" The knights could only watch amused at the banter between King and servant. Wondering if they would ever become a normal pair of serving and be served.
"Unlike you right?" Dodging a blow to the head, Merlin ran off to feed their trusty steeds. Turning back to his knights Arthur addressed Leon.
"Where to next?" Looking at the map in front of the curly-haired man, he looked up to his majesty awaiting an answer. The long trip from Mercia taking its toll on the man.
"If we head through the Plains of Othanden, we'll cut travel time by a day. As long as there's no trouble with that my lord?"
"None at all, Sir Leon."
"Speak for yourselves, I'm famished." Gwaine, the lazy oaf he is, dragged out as he leaned on Percival who shook his head fondly. Once the horses were ready, they made haste to cut through the plains as best they could. 
With Lancelot keeping Merlin from going insane and Gwaine sharing stories with Elyan and Percival, it made the trip bearable. Arthur and Leon would only chip in their two silvers when necessary(when they wanted to). Once near the edge of Camelot, they spotted a village nearby.
"It's getting dark, we should rest in the village. Have some time to gather our energy." Merlin suggested. Thinking it over, Arthur agreed and led his friends to the village. Once there, people around whispered. Some are in awe of the king and his knights. Others appeared worried.
At this Merlin became paranoid. So he listened in more carefully at the villagers.
"Why are,..... think they'll,..... hope they,... what of,...?" Fortunately, one question was clear as day. "Do ya' wonder what Robin Hood will think?"
Merlin wanted to freeze in his tracks but his horse kept him along the others. Robin Hood was here. The man from tales at the tavern who stole from the rich and gave to the poor. Honorable, but bad news if he tried stealing from Arthur.
No gold or valuables were on them, but Arthur wouldn't hesitate to kill if attacked. Merlin prayed Robin Hood was smarter than that.
Once at a decent-looking Inn, they left their horses to the stable boy and left to a nearby tavern for a light dinner. Or drink in Gwaine's case. A table maid sat them at a window booth and took their orders. Gwaine had attempted to woo her.
It gave the others amusement especially when she was particularly interested in Lancelot. She was making the man bashful and he tried to give attention to Gwaine again.
After she walked away, music began playing louder and cheers were heard. Turning their heads to see the commotion, they saw a bright red-haired woman dancing on the bar along to the beat of the song.
Her hair was in a braid and she wore boots with baggy wool socks. Black pants that sagged at her lower legs and a white blouse that brought out her purple bodice. It seemed she was there alone. 
When the violin played a certain chord, she jumped in the air towards the chandelier and swung in circles everyone around her. Including the visitors from Camelot.
Landing on a table nearby causing the men sitting there to fall over from shock, she continued to dance. Spinning around and swaying her hips along with the music. Getting wolf whistles from men and cheers of praise from women.
Entranced by her dancing, Elyan didn't hear the praise coming from his friends.
"She's good," Arthur said. Leon nodded while taking sips from his drink. Leon nodded his head in agreement.
"Elyan agrees, right mate?" Gwaine said laughing at his friend. Looking besotted at the bold red-head across from them. As the song ended she jumped off the table landing gracefully, giving a bow to the patrons around her. The knights and everyone else raised their glasses to her.
As she went to sit at an empty seat at the bar, Elyan debated on speaking with her.
"If you stare, she'll only think badly of you." Merlin's voice brought him back to reality as his friends sniggered at him. Turning towards the blue-eyed man, Elyan couldn't help but roll his eyes.
A woman as beautiful as her wouldn't be interested in him dressed like a peasant. When they headed into their rooms Leon implied it wise to change into something less formal for their trip to the tavern.
While the others agreed, Elyan couldn't deny he felt stripped. Despite Arthur's reassurance, being from no noble blood made him feel small. Even worse when some common folk looked at him in contempt. Which wasn't always because of his position or origin.
"I'd rather not. Besides she must feel tired, why keep beating a dead horse?" At his words the knights became rigid. Apart from Merlin and Gwaine who held in laughs.
"Because maybe it'll come back to life?" A different voice spoke behind him. An angelic voice. Turning around with a confused expression, Elyan met eyes with the redhead. Her green eyes glimmer despite facing away from the light. He tried to envision what they would look like in the afternoon sun.
"Perhaps that's true." He said after much debate internally, which was hilarious to his friends. Although, it did bring a smile out of her so maybe it worked.
"Glad to know someone thought my performance was exceptional."
"Very, love the bit where you jumped and almost hit the ceiling." Closing her eyes and laughing she headed off to another table shaking her head. She sat down at a table a good feet away chatting with some men sitting and drinking.
"Were you complimenting her or insulting her?" Lancelot may be honorable to anyone else, but his companions were at their wits end with him.
After getting their orders they headed off to the inn to get rest for tomorrow's journey home. Still while lying down on the bed next to Percival's he kept thinking back to the girl. He never got her name.
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The next morning they awoke and had a small breakfast. Just something to keep them awake for the start of the path. That is til someone broke into the inn screaming their head off.
"Robin Hood's attacked! Lord John isn't happy!" The people near the door piled out, including the knights. They had heard the tales but had never seen it in person. Now was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
"Robin Hood?" Arthur asked a patron who just shrugged their shoulders with a smile. Outside the village, people gathered around the middle fountain and grabbed bags of money from the Merrymen.
"Should we do something?" Leon whispered in Arthur's ear and he was debating himself. While they were meant to arrest outlaws, Robin wasn't an outlaw of Camelot. Uther had just been threatened by an outside power that most likely didn't even know of his existence.
"No, they're not a problem as long as they don't attack us. We should go."
And like that, they left. Leaving the village and heading into the forest was browsing but the mood and energy picked up when Gwaine began picking on Elyan again.
"So, did you end up getting her name or what Elyan?" Rolling his eyes he gave his friend a gentle glare.
"No, and for good reason. I'll never see her again. What's the point?"
"Don't speak like that Elyan, there are plenty of women who would love a courtship with Camelot's finest knights," Arthur said trying to console his friend which prompted Merlin to have his usual go at him.
"Makes you wonder why Gwen ever chose you." The knights 'Ooo'ed at this and the king simply threw a fake glare at his manservant. Looking past Merlin, he saw a group of horses running up to them.
Realizing it was the Merrymen, Arthur became tense. Noticing, the Knights drew their swords and turned to the charging quarry behind them. When they got close they slowed down and stopped a few feet away from them.
The figure in front of a white horse spoke from under the hood and mask.
"Relax boys, we know you don't have anything, we're just trying to get through. We're making a stop at Camelot. A friend of ours needs help."
"Who's this friend of yours? Perhaps we could assist you, after all, I would like to be more involved with my people."
The statement ran through the Merrymen. Except for the two in front.
"Her name is Marian and she needs money. Please let us through, she doesn't trust any type of nobility." Frowning Arthur went to retort but Merlin stopped him.
"Arthur no, let them come with us."
"He's right, it could give us a chance to keep an eye on them." Leon reasoned out Merlin's input.
"I for one would love to hear the real story of the mighty Robin Hood." A small chuckle from the opposite group could be heard. Guess they weren't as quiet as they'd hoped.
Elyan however, was more focused on the main hooded figure. Their laughter sounded familiar. Angelic almost.
"What do ya' think Robin?" The man next to the leader asked. The leader whispered and agreement and let the man next to him go up to Arthur.
The knights could tell he wasn't being threatening so they sheethed their swords back in their holsters.
"Very well, we'll accompany you. My name is John."
"Little John?" Percival asked gesturing at the man's size. Like Percival he was big and bulky, the only difference being a darker tone of skin and a subtle belly on him.
Laughter from John and the group startled birds out of the trees. They were called Merrymen for a reason.
"You're her! That girl from the tavern last night!" The Merrymen froze and exchanged looks. Some of them looked at their leader questioningly. Huffing out a small laugh only confirmed Elyan's belief and made him flustered.
The girl pulled off her hood and revealed wavy bright red hair that glowed in the morning sun.
"You got me!" She said and made her horse walk closer to Elyan. "Glad to see my biggest fan again." Smiling at her comment, Elyan went to speak but was interrupted.
"You were flirting with Robin Hood!" Gwaine was going to get beat when they got back to Camelot.
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"So how did people think you were a man? Don't think anything different, but your physique isn't very masculine." Arthur asked as they sat in the knight's quarters back in the castle. The trip had let Elyan and the others learn about the Merrymen's travels and adventures.
Their recent heists. Any gone wrong attempts that required daring rescues. Including any potential romances whilst on the road.
"I needed people to respect what I was doing, not patronize me for it. So when the minestrel we saved asked to write a song about us I told him to make me male."
"Certainly fooled me, I thought you were a prat like Arthur." That comment earned Merlin a good wallop to the head creating laughter throughout the room.
"Tell us more." Elyan urged Robin leaning back on the bench next to her.
"Well, there was the time we invaded Cendred's castle unnoticed."
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smeddiemunson · 1 year
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here’s why i head cannon steve as being a good cook.
he gets left at home alone a lot. to start with he lived off microwave meals or pizza, and he was fine with that. his parents left him more than enough money that he didn’t have to worry about it. 
but if you’ve ever been home alone with nothing to do but to flick through tv channels, you’ll know that there’s two options: daytime soap operas or competitive cooking shows (this masterchef).
and the cooking shows check a lot of boxes for steve. he’s competitive, he loves shouting at his tv because his fave contestant isn’t working quick enough, or his least favourite is struggling with a basic technique (”who doesn’t know how to fucking quenelle, diane?”). 
but more importantly he looooves the drama that goes with it all. that one contestant accidently took another contestants ice cream out of the freezer and now they don’t have enough time to make another one? steve looses his fucking mind. 
and steve watches these shows and thinks “it can’t possibly be as hard as they’re making it look, right?” and he has the money to give it a go. so he buys a load of ingredients and keeps ruining them until they resemble real food. 
he’s heartbroken that my kitchen rules only gets one season in the USA.
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captainsvscaptains · 10 months
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Battle of the Ships
Round 1 Part 2 Poll 2
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Description for Paragon : Age of sail trading vessel, capable of both nautical and river navigation. It may be more specified in the books but I don’t have them in front of me :(
Propaganda for Paragon : Paragon is captained by Brashen Trell, with first mate Althea Vestrit (one of the main characters of the series) He is sentient.
Description for Kingdom Come : The Pirate ship of Captain Brandish
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thymbraeusrising · 1 year
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Everyone really needs to read Once and Future. Stories and myths become true when King Arthur is resurrected and goes on a murderous quest to claim England for himself.
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msgexymunson · 6 months
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Shotgun
Description: you're on a camping trip with your two friends, and the scariest guy from school: Eddie Munson. A few beers and some weed change the way you look at him however. Maybe he's not so scary after all. Cocky, oh yes, but not scary. Especially the way your legs start to squeeze together at the sight of him. But, does he like you, or is this some cruel game to play on the innocent band geek? 
A/n: do I have 10 WIPs? Yes. Do I have requests I'm working on? Also yes. So logically, I started a one shot from a smutty dream I had, that turned into a freaking long one. Enjoy!
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll feed you to the fishes. Very smutty, a bit of angst, hella fluff! Reader is AFAB, cocky!experienced!Eddie x Virgin!band geek!fem!reader, very slight dub con in the beginning (touching over panties, explicit consent not given), female fingering receiving, dry humping, female oral receiving, p in v protected sex. 
❤️Reblogs are what keep me going; they keep Tumblr going, and my little black heart beating. Reblog my work and I'll love you forever sweetheart. ❤️
12.5k words (oops) 
Masterlist
"You know you guys can't handle this shit!" 
Eddie laughs, nearly spilling the beer cradled in his hand. 
Steve rolls his eyes, chucking his beer top into the campfire you guys had set up for the evening, the paint sparking briefly. 
"Come on Munson, pass it round, quit being a bitch." 
"Yeah Eddie, share the love!" 
Robin giggles as she clutches her chest dramatically. Shaking your head, you shift uncomfortably on the ground. It's not that you haven't been around this sort of stuff before, people you weren't too keen on have smoked once in your company. It wasn't even a moral thing, you were just a little scared of the effect. That, and the fact you were sitting right next to Eddie Munson. 
Eddie, the guy you've literally been frightened of since you saw him leaping on tables in the cafeteria. That was some time ago, and Robin had assured you he was a good guy. You trusted her judgement completely, hence why you'd even considered going camping with the three of them for the weekend. It didn't help the fact that you were just a band geek, not used to these sorts of get togethers. Hell, your closest friends played chess for fun. This was so out of your comfort zone that you felt like a deer in headlights. Only a week ago you had your first beer, at 21; the proper age. Now you were sucking back a brew in the woods at night, sitting next to the drug dealer of the area. 
It could just be the beer talking, but Eddie looks good right now. Every time he shook his mane of hair out of his face it had you biting your lip. He threw his head back when he laughed and the sight of that stretched neck of his had you clenching your thighs, feelings bubbling up that you'd never felt before. 
So when his hand reached out and his fingertips grazed you, a blunt pressed between his thick ringed fingers, you gasped, pulling your hand away as if it had been burned. 
"Come on, take it." 
Your tongue feels thick and swollen, sticking to the roof of your mouth. Words. Think of words. 
"Can't you, erm, pass it the other way?" 
"No, it always goes to the left sweetheart." 
Sweetheart.
Glad the low light hides your blazing cheeks at the pet name, you dip your eyes downward for fear of them exposing you. You played the flute for Christ's sake. This was not your thing. 
"I-I, well, I-" 
"You not smoked before?"
Robin's voice cuts through the myriad of noises in your head, making you turn violently. 
"I just, I never-" 
"Look at me." 
Those words from him sing through your nerves, making you forget any thought you had, or anticipated. As you turn, Eddie's dark eyes bore into you. 
"You trust me?" 
No. A thousand times no.
"Yes." 
"Come here." 
He shifts and gets up on his knees, joint pressed between pouting lips as he lights it again, the cherry blazing almost as hot as your blood right now. You mimic his movements, rising on shaky thighs to kneel in front of him. 
"Right, I'm gonna take a pull, and blow the smoke, when I breathe out, you breathe in, 'kay?" 
His words are sweet, and a little condescending, an edge of talking down that just stirs up your insides further, guts a puddle. 
"Okay." 
He cups his hands to his face, gesturing for you to do the same. Raising your shaking hands, you touch them delicately with his. He flips his hands so they are on the outside, cupping yours, pushing them together with a lot more force than you did. 
He's close, so close. Your breath hitches in your throat, those deep eyes a couple of inches from yours. Heat radiates from his body, your skin itching almost from its blistering warmth. That could just be from the fire. Or the fire in between your legs. 
He smells good. There's weed there, sure, and the beer you've all been drinking, and some aftershave you couldn't place, maybe bergamot? An undercurrent lies beneath it all, of man and skin, that makes your toes curl. 
He breathes into you then, the swirling smoke trying to escape your cupped hands. 
You inhale deeply, focusing on the feel of Eddie's rough hands, on his touch. You breathe in until there's nothing left and hold it. His eyes don't leave yours, sparkling in the fire light. 
The exhale hurts more. Breathing out smoke, you revel in the fact you didn't cough or startle. The feeling of him letting go of your hands is far worse. 
A ringing, whooping noise finally reaches your ears, between the sound of your own blood pumping. Robin and Steve are cheering like morons, but your gaze doesn't leave Eddie. 
"There you go. Good girl." 
Damn. 
A sharp intake of breath pulls into your lungs and straight to your heat. The pure shock and desire those two words drew from you have you dropping backwards, butt slamming into the pine needle dusted ground. 
"Hey you OK?" Robin's hand on your shoulder distracts you briefly and you flash a weak smile. 
"Sure, just went to my head a little, I'm good." 
Eddie's hand reaches over you, passing the blunt to Robin. You dare not look him in the eye, fearful that everything you felt was written all over your innocent face. Out of your periphery, you can tell he's facing you. Suddenly the fire was extremely interesting. 
Robin has a couple of tokes, and tries a third when Steve waves at her. 
"Quit hogging it!" 
"OK, don't get your panties in a twist!" Passing it to Steve with a loud huff, he takes it and breathes deep. And promptly coughs his guts out. 
Robin and Eddie cackle, and even you can spare a giggle at the irony. 
"Told you Harrington. Even the little band cutie took it better than you!" 
"Fuck off Munson." 
Hell, he knows who I am. And he called me cute.
This is Eddie. Scary, metal head, drug dealer Eddie. Eddie who all of a sudden stirs your insides up and makes your head dizzy. Eddie who you now realise is actually goddamn gorgeous. 
Eddie takes a hit and turns to you. 
"You wanna try smoking it sweetheart?" 
Heart hammering in your ribs, you manage to speak. 
"C-can you do, that thing, again?" 
His smile is dipped in sin as he scoots nearer to you, and you copy him. Suddenly this seems more intimate, sitting on the ground, twisting to face each other, inches away. He takes a hit and holds it, gesturing at you to lean closer. The way he tilts his head, you could almost believe he's going to kiss you. This time, he cups your face, blowing smoke at you. It's so close his lips brush yours ever so softly. 
You're not sure if your inhale was intentional or a shocked gasp, but in the smoke goes. 
Did he mean to do that? 
One look into his eyes tells you yes. There's a cockiness to his grin, the devil dancing across his face. 
So, did he do it because he likes you, or is he just messing with you? Only Eddie knows the answer to that. 
You exhale, less than an inch from his full lips. Time stops. That is until Steve and his loud mouth break the spell. 
"Come on, get a room you guys!" He practically yells, throwing a twig in your direction. 
You snap your head away from Eddie and stare at Steve with wild eyes. 
"I-I wasn't, we- we weren't-" 
"We weren't? Well, that's a damn shame."
As you glance back at Eddie he's leaning on propped up elbows, looking so sure of himself that it's annoying, bordering on making you angry. 
Cheeks flooding with warmth, your mouth forms words without checking with your brain first. 
"Y-you know what you are Eddie?" 
He tilts his head at you, still smirking, and gestures a hand willing you to continue. 
"A cocky mother fucker." 
The grin falls from his face as he looks at you in shock. Robin and Steve practically piss themselves laughing at your sudden outburst. 
"Shit Eddie you better watch out!" Robin laughs out. 
"Yeah, that kitty's got claws dude." Steve agrees. 
Embarrassed at your own words, you risk glancing at Eddie. You were expecting him to be upset, angry even. That's not the case; he looks impressed. 
"Shit, yeah, I can see that. Didn't know you had it in you sweetheart." 
Smiling to yourself, you stretch your legs and wiggle your feet. You impressed him. Your turn for a smug smile. 
Pretty soon the high starts to settle in; a warmth seeps through your bones and a tingle spreads from your head into your body. It feels like you're quivering whilst sitting still. Steve offers you another beer but you turn it down, well aware that being too foggy right now would be a bad idea. Especially since Eddie has been creeping closer. Now you're side by side, hips so close any time he moves he brushes against you. 
The fire dies down, turning to embers. The beer coat has vanished, leaving you shivering. Steve and Robin are already under a blanket; you can see Robin's eyes are close to closing. 
"You ok there sweetheart? Cold?" 
"I-I'm O-OK." 
"No you aren't, you're shaking." 
Without a further word he's taking off his jacket and putting his arm firmly around you. Whatever space there was between you has melted away, sides now flush. 
You could say the same for your face. This may well be the closest you've been to a boy. Well, a man. He drapes the jacket over the pair of you, covering your crossed legs and his lap, and rubs his hand smoothly up and down your arm to warm you. Little does he know how much he's warming your insides, each stroke sending a buzzing desire through your limbs. 
Steve's chatting away; yet another story about Dustin spilling from his lips when you feel Eddie's other hand snaking underneath the jacket, coming to rest on your thigh. 
Eyes wide, you flick your gaze towards him. 
"What are you doing?" You whisper urgently. 
"Just warming you up sweetheart." 
He says it so sweetly, yet it belies the movements of his hand, moving further up your leg to run soft circles just underneath the hem of your skirt. 
You can't hear a word Steve is saying, unable to concentrate on anything but Eddie's touch and the whooshing blood in your ears. No one had ever touched you like this, not once.  
Robin's shrill voice breaks through the fizzing in your head; once again her and Steve are arguing over something. You might have heard Vickie being mentioned but you can't be sure. 
Eddie's hand trails higher, within reach of your panties. Breath catching in your throat, you mean to admonish him but all that comes out is a breathy noise. 
"Eddie…" 
He rests his chin on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your ear. 
"You want me to stop?" 
You don't answer, you can't. You're frozen, unable to move, unable to make a sound lest a moan escape your lips. 
He wouldn't dare, not with Steve and Robin here, would he?
He would. 
Eddie runs a finger gently down the front of your panties. The softest touch, a whisper of a thing. Then he does it again, up and down, pressing the cotton of your briefs into your private parts. 
You can feel your insides fluttering, a burning settling between your legs, being stoked by every barely there touch. Suddenly, he presses down on something that has you softly whimpering and clenching at nothing. A tingle shoots down your legs to the tips of your toes. 
You hear a small noise; it's Eddie chuckling in his throat. It snaps you out of your frozen state and you move to get up. 
"I'm going to bed guys." 
Standing abruptly, you let Eddie's jacket fall from you as he scrambles to keep it over his own lap. 
You turn to your tent and hear Steve and Robin wish you goodnight, and mumble about going to bed soon too. 
"Night guys!" 
"Want any company sweetheart?" 
There he is, sitting with that arrogant look on his face. 
"Goodnight, Eddie." 
You say it firmly, even though your resolve is as substantial as tissue paper. Stomping over to your tent, you turn on your camp light and sit on your double inflatable bed, hugging your knees. 
Now that you're alone you realise how much that weed affected you. You feel airy, light as a feather, fingers and toes still tingling. 
It must be the drugs. 
You focus on the reality of the situation. You just let some guy touch you down there. Eddie Munson touched you over your panties. 
So why weren't you scared? Or angry at him? It's not like he asked. The fact is that  no one's done anything like that to you before, and it felt incredible. Left you aching for more. That thought was making you more frightened than anything else. 
You listen to the group slowly pad their way off to bed, rustles of clothing, mumbled 'goodnights', and tent zips. 
To the left of your tent was the huge six berth Steve had brought for him and Robin. It was fancy, you assume he 'borrowed' it from his parents. On the cusp of hearing there was bickering. You don't know how Robin and Steve became friends, or how they maintained it since they acted like an old married couple most of the time, but it seemed to work. After a few minutes soft snores echoed from the two of them. 
No sound comes from the other side, where Eddie had pitched a little coffin tent. You wonder if he's still sitting by the dying embers of the fire. He's probably smoking. 
Stop thinking about him.
You undress, only pulling an oversized t-shirt on to sleep in since your big sleeping bag is so warm. You'd bought a double one with your birthday money last year because you hated feeling restricted. It was a luxury but with all the camping you did it just made sense. Snuggling into its spacious depths, you attempt to quiet the raging hormones coursing through your veins. 
God, why is he so annoying and smug? It burned you up, but you couldn't deny how much it turned you on. 
You slide your hand between your legs, pressing hard to try and quench the fire. He did something, you're sure of it. This wasn't natural for you, movements unsure and bordering on clumsy. When you run your finger through your naked folds you whimper, and see how wet you are. Gasping, you explore further, and find that spot, a hidden nub that sends a bolt of lightning to your core. 
"Oh fuck," you breathe out in a moan, starting to rub up and down. 
"You alright in there sweetheart?" 
Oh shit, he's right outside the tent. Was he there the whole time? 
"Yeah, what do you want?" 
"I'm cold, can I come in?" 
No.
"Y-yeah." 
He unzips the tent and enters, crouching to accommodate his height. Closing the tent up, he takes in his surroundings, letting out a low whistle. 
"Pretty sweet set up you've got here, your folks rich or something?" 
"No, I just do a lot of camping with the troop." 
"Huh?" He looks confused, falling to his knees to look you in the eyes. 
"The girl scouts, I volunteer as a leader." 
The laughter that comes from him is loud and rich. 
"Fuck, you got that little innocent act down don't you?" 
It's your turn to look confused. 
"What on earth are you talking about Eddie?" 
He scoffs at you, clearly not buying it. 
"The cute little band geek thing, helping out with girl scouts. Shit, the whole 'can you do that thing again?' " He mimics your words from earlier and you flush crimson. 
"Eddie, I honestly don't know what you're going on about. I never smoked before, I hadn't even had a beer before my 21st last week. I've never even- no one's done what you did, outside." 
Eddie's jaw may as well be on the floor. 
"You're fucking with me." 
You shake your head, lips pressed tight. 
"Well, now I feel like an asshole." He huffs out, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. 
"Well maybe you should, you never asked." 
"I'm sorry, I just- I thought you were one of those freaky band kids. You kept looking at me like you were gonna eat me alive, I thought I was in for a rough night." He laughs, shooting a gaze at you. 
"Well you thought wrong." You turn your head, arms crossed firmly over your chest. 
"I'll go if you want. Want me to leave?" 
Yes. 
"No." 
A smile spreads slowly across his face, and he inches closer to you on his hands and knees, palms splayed on the foot of your air bed. 
"So, you want me to stay?" 
"No." 
"So… should I sleep in the doorway?"
A fair question, considering your answer. You laugh, looking back at him. His smile is softer, much less mocking. It's sweet almost, sanding down your rough edges. 
"Yeah, you can be my bodyguard. Protect me from bears and mountain lions and stuff." 
He chuckles and climbs over; you lay back on instinct, further away. Leaning right over you, his face is an inch from yours, hair tickling your cheek. 
"You know, I could protect this beautiful body of yours better if I was in the sleeping bag with you." 
"You don't give up, do you?" You whisper into his skin, sounding braver than you felt. 
"It was the sweet and innocent thing, did me in." 
He plants a soft kiss to your cheek, brushing your skin, and another, to the corner of your mouth that makes you shiver. 
"Tell me to stop." 
"Eddie, kiss me." 
His mouth is on your then, hot and heavy, tongue begging at your bottom lip. You give him an inch and he takes a mile, tongue sliding against yours with practised movements. Not expecting the full force of his kiss, you suddenly realise you're moaning into his mouth, hands coming to wind into his loose locks. 
He breaks away, chuckling at the way you chase his lips. 
"You know, you don't kiss like a good girl." 
Merely whining in response, you try to catch your breath. 
"So, can I get in the sleeping bag? I'm freezing out there." 
"Fine, just, no funny business." You point your finger at him, gasping when he licks it long and slow. 
"Nothing you don't want me to do." He winks, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. 
"What are you doing?" 
He ignores you, pulling his socks off and  unbuttoning his jeans. 
"I'm getting undressed. Why, expect me to sleep in my jeans?" 
You merely screw your nose up in response. Stripped down to his boxers, he clambers his lithe body onto the sleeping bag with you, all elbows and knees. Sighing, you move over to accommodate him but he wraps his arms around you. 
"Eddie, what-" 
"I'm cold sweetheart, just, warm me up a little?" 
Your heart is hammering in your ribcage with the realisation that you're entirely out of control of this situation. You allow him to hold you, and hesitantly rest your arm over him. Your head is snuggled into his neck, feeling more comfortable than you had any right to be. 
"Eddie, your legs are freezing." 
"I know! I wasn't lying, my sleeping bag's shitty." 
He pushes his thigh between yours, and you remember a split second too late that you're not wearing any bottoms. Suddenly, his bare thigh is pressed against your naked heat. You're praying to any Gods that might be listening that he doesn't notice, attempting to stay as still as possible. 
He's warming up slowly, but you're stiff as a post, trying not to focus on his thigh and the slight pressure it's putting on your most delicate parts. 
"So, you gonna tell me what you were doing sweetheart?" 
"What?" You whisper into the soft skin of his neck.
"Well, I came out of my tent to see if you were still awake, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning." 
"N-no, I wasn't!" 
"Quit lying, I can feel your cunt on my leg." 
You nearly choke on your own saliva. 
"Eddie, you can't just say that!"
You hit him on the chest. He just laughs, dragging your little fist to his mouth to kiss it. 
"I can when you're soaking my leg." 
Opening your mouth to respond, all words escape you. Especially when he grinds his thigh against your folds. Instead of words, a whimper breaks from your lips. 
"Yeah? That good sweetheart?" 
The smugness is back, but you can't find it in you to care, not when he rocks his hips and the force of his leg sets loose a roll of pleasure. He's hard, it's pressing into your hip. 
A lean arm curls around you, his thick thumb finding its way to your chin to lift it upwards. You stare into his darkened eyes as they dart to your lips and back up. 
All resolve is dissolved like ash in the rain as you feel the intensity of his stare and the warmth of him between your thighs. You crash your lips to his desperately, hips chasing friction. When his heavy tongue slips into your mouth you respond in kind, needy and vigorous. 
He takes his thigh away and you huff at the loss, but it's not for long, not when that hand of his is stroking down your front, lightly massaging your hardened nipples and chasing down to your stomach. He cups your mound, one finger pushing down on your swollen nub. 
"Eddie." 
It's a whimper, a plea into his open mouth. Responding by biting your bottom lip softly, he dips his finger lower, circling your entrance gently. His finger slips inside then and you clench around it immediately, moaning at the foreign feeling. It's odd, yes, but it's so good that you cry out. 
"Gotta be quiet sweetheart, don't want anyone hearing me fuck you with my fingers." 
His crude words are peppering your insides with fire, the evidence of your arousal seeping out of you. Humming in response, you bite your lip, clinging desperately to his side. 
He slowly pumps his finger in and out, watching your face. You're slick jawed, eyebrows knitted tight, hips rolling with each thrust of his hand. 
"Fuck you're so tight, can barely fit my finger in." 
"Eddie, no one's ever-" 
"Shhh, I fuckin' know sweetheart. Gonna make you feel really good. Just enjoy it." 
He curls his finger inside you, incessantly stroking at something that's making your legs tense up and your insides flutter around him, the heel of his hand flat and hard against that spot again. 
"Oh my God!" You whisper urgently, fingernails digging into his sides. 
"I know baby, feels good yeah?" 
"Uh huh" you manage to breathe out as your eyes squeeze shut. 
The pressure collating in your tummy is building and building as he speeds up, finger reaching deep inside. It releases, and flows from you, wave after wave crashing down and washing away everything but Eddie. 
You muffle your cries of pleasure in the skin of Eddie's chest, resisting the urge to clamp your teeth into his flesh.
As you come down, he releases his digit with a wet sucking sound that probably would have made you embarrassed five minutes ago, but now it's just inconsequential. 
"Still with me?" He asks softly as he hugs you close. 
"Barely" You mumble; he chuckles at your reply. 
He rolls you on top of him, moving your legs so you're straddling him. His hard on is pressing firmly into your privates, your slick dampening the front of his boxers immediately. 
"Eddie, I'm not- I can't have sex with-" 
"Sweetheart, you trust me?" 
Yes. 
"No."
There's that look again, that edge of mocking that isn't making you annoyed anymore, it's making you want to pull his underwear down and slip him inside of you. 
"I'm not gonna fuck you. Not unless you want me to. Relax sweetheart." 
His hands are on your ass, moving you against him to grind on his rock hard bulge. Your eyes widen, the friction so much better than his thigh. 
He lets out a stifled moan, and damn if it isn't the best noise you've heard in your life. 
His hands trail under your shirt as you take over moving against him, feeling the shape of him under you. Tugging at the hem, he looks up at you with pleading eyes. 
"Can I- can I take this off?" 
All feelings of modesty have fled and you whip your shirt over your head and fling it across the tent. 
"Fuck, look at you." 
Leaning forward he takes your nipple into his mouth and rolls his tongue around and around. 
"Eddie, oh Holy fuck!" 
Your movements become faster and sloppy, so he grabs you by the hips to slow you down. 
"You know what I think?" He says, in between wet open mouthed kisses to your breasts, "I think you are a freak. You just didn't know it yet." He chuckles darkly, and sucks hard at one of your nipples. 
Your moan is loud and bordering on pornographic as you rut yourself against him harshly, all pretence of keeping quiet forgotten as your stomach tightens again in thick knots of pleasure. 
"Oh Eddie, I'm- I'm gonna cum oh fuckfuckfuck!" 
It all undoes at once as you release and clench around nothing, pussy throbbing with ecstasy. The bones in your body seem to disintegrate, muscles a distant memory as you flop against him. 
Eddie's not done. 
"Come on sweetheart, just a little longer." 
He encourages your hips to move again as you lay on his chest, skin glowing with perspiration. You can only grunt in response and start grinding against him again, the feeling so intense it has you clenching your teeth with pleasure pain. 
"That's it, fuck, I'm so close. There's my good girl, just, oh shit, little more." 
His praise bubbles through you and you speed up to meet his rutting hips, your slick sticking to the tops of your thighs. 
"Feel so good sweetheart, oh shit!" 
Lifting your head, you do it just in time to watch Eddie's eyes screw shut, mouth panting open with pleasure as he holds your hips in a death grip. His cheeks and neck are flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing. You press your lips to it softly, leaving feather dusted kisses over his neck and jaw as he comes down from his glowing high. 
"Holy shit." He laughs into you, kissing the top of your head over your hair. 
"Indeed" your reply is breathless as you melt into his front, attempting to ignore the stickiness. 
"As much as I'm enjoying you naked on top of me, I need to, er-" He gestures vaguely at himself with one hand. For a minute you think he's just going to go, but instead he wriggles out of the sleeping bag and whips his boxers down. 
You sit back on your heels, mouth agape as he casually cleans his spend with his underwear, wiping at the matted pubic hair. He's big; you could feel him under you but now you're faced with it you fear your eyes may bug out of your head. 
Glancing down, you can see some of his cum escaped its fabric confinement; a few drops glisten on your lower abdomen. Curiosity gets the better of you as you gather it on your fingers to feel the consistency, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger. It's stickier than you thought. You bring your thumb to your mouth and suck the excess off. It's salty, and strange, but not unpleasant exactly. 
When your eyes meet again Eddie looks awestruck, staring at you with the queerest expression on his face. 
Embarrassed at being caught, you hide your hand behind your back as if scolded. 
"Sorry, was that wrong?" 
"No, fuck no," he chuckles, looking away, "just have to stop looking at me like that sweetheart." 
"Why?" 
"Hell, 'cause you're making me hard again." 
"Oh." 
You shyly put your head down and settle back down in the sleeping bag's warmth. To your amazement Eddie gets in with you. 
"What are you doing?" 
"I thought you said I could stay? Or you had enough of me?" 
"N-no, I just… well, you're naked." 
He laughs hard at that. 
"So are you." 
Nothing about this seems to phase him, but your mind is swirling around and around. You'd just had your first orgasms ever, and now you're going to be sleeping naked with a man. With Eddie Munson.  
He's so much warmer now, skin hot to the touch. Hesitantly, you rest your hand on his chest. He pulls you close, picking up your little camp light with the other hand, fiddling with it briefly before offering it to you. 
"Can you switch this thing off?" 
You reach and press the button, plunging you both into darkness. 
"Night sweetheart." 
"Night Eddie." 
********************
Early morning light wakes you, filtering through the tent fabric, coating everything in a warm glow. 
Eddie is still here, laying on his back, snoring softly with you cuddled to his chest. You'd hate to admit it, but you were glad. Glad he didn't run off in the night. Glad that last night had actually happened and wasn't just your over active imagination playing some cruel joke. 
Laying there, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, you take a second to really think. 
What was actually happening? A part of you is frightened; scared that maybe Eddie sees your virginity as a challenge. Maybe that's why he stayed? You were staying another night after all. Or maybe this is a little holiday romance, something to keep him occupied whilst he's away. You'd had one before at band camp; nothing serious, just kisses and cuddles and radio silence on your return. 
What were Robin and Steve going to say? You contemplated waking him up right now to sneak him back to his own tent, but that thought went straight out the window when you caught the sound of their tent being unzipped. 
A soft bash to your tent startles you and makes Eddie snort himself awake. 
"Hey guys I'm making coffee! Come and join us!" 
Robin sings out and walks away to fuss over the fire it sounds like. 
Oh Holy shit balls. Hey guys?? She knew Eddie was here. And if she knew, Steve knew. 
Eddie smirks down at you as you stare at him with wild panic in your eyes. 
"Guess our little secret is out sweetheart." 
Before you can say a word he's unzipping the sleeping bag and fumbling about for his jeans, slipping them clumsily onto his legs. 
"Eddie!" You whisper urgently. He just chuckles. 
"What, want me to cut a hole in the back of the tent? Tunnel out?" 
He's got a point. 
"Eddie, please just don't-" 
"Hey, I ain't one to kiss and tell, relax." 
Before you can say another word he's perching a cigarette in between his plump lips and making his way out of the tent. 
Fuck. 
You pull on your clothes hastily, a skirt and t-shirt, and slide on your sneakers, attempting to untangle some of the messy bed head that had been created during the night. 
It's now or never. 
You exit the tent, attempting to look as casual about it as you can. 
"Morning guys." 
Steve smiles at you. 
"Howdy cowgirl." 
"Hi?" 
You return his greeting, utterly confused, but by the sound of Robin shushing him violently and Eddie coughing on his cigarette you can only assume he meant something by that which went over your head. Robin breaks the tension, talking a mile a minute. 
"Hey sleepy head! You want a coffee? I just made it over the fire. Crazy! I know it took forever. It'll wake you up. Not that you need waking up you're up and about and it's early! It's not like you had a long night. Well you might have how would I know anyway here's your coffee!!" 
Seems you might have gotten a little loud, why else would Robin be breaking the sound barrier? You don't say a thing, just smile gratefully and take your coffee, entirely avoiding Eddie's eyes, and try to wish the blood away from your darkening cheeks. 
"So, we thought we might have a swim in the lake in a couple hours when it's warmer, you in?" 
Steve asks and you nod, aware your voice right now is not to be trusted. 
So, after a little breakfast and small talk about the cold last night, which you put a particular emphasis on to try and explain away your little situation, you all go and change into your swimwear. 
In your tent you lay out your usual one piece, the plain black one you always wear with the troop, and the other set. The bikini you bravely bought but never wore, deeming it far too skimpy for camp. But this wasn't girl scouts. 
God damn he's already seen me naked, come on, be brave. 
Skimpy number it is. You wear it underneath your clothes and grab a towel and a book, readying yourself to join the others. 
Eddie and Steve walk ahead, talking obnoxiously loud; something you're quite glad of. At least they aren't whispering about you. 
Robin walks side by side with you, practically vibrating. 
"Just, whatever you wanna say, say it before you explode." 
The voice that exits her mouth is so high pitched you're surprised dogs didn't start barking. 
"You had sex with Eddie Munson!" 
"I did not!" 
"Totally did, we saw you!" 
You stop in your tracks, mouth hanging open.
"What the fuck Robin!" 
"Sorry, we didn't actually like, see you see you, we saw your shadows, 'cause of the light in your tent." 
"We- I- I mean, we didn't, like, have sex, we just- did something else." You settle at lamely. 
"Are you going to? He really likes you." 
You scoff at that, continuing your walk. 
"He's just trying to get in my pants, take my virginity. I doubt he'll even talk to me after." 
Robin's hand shoots out to grab your arm. 
"Oh, you don't know, do you?" 
Feeling utterly confused, you turn to face her. 
"What are you going on about?" 
"Eddie likes you, he had a crush on you in high school. He was the one that suggested inviting you and nearly killed me when I actually did." 
Your world turns sideways in your mind; everything is upside down, thoughts smashed, memories cut to ribbons in their wake.
"Huh? How- what?" 
"He was telling Steve like a week ago, I was listening in and opened my mouth as per usual. I tried to tell you, remember?" 
You rack your brains trying to come up with answers when a light bulb switches in your head. 
"Hang on, you said Eddie wanted me to go before, didn't you? I honestly thought you were just joking with me, I didn't think he knew who I was!" 
You reach the tree line and see the two boys a little further on, just on the tiny beach leading to the lake, stripping off their clothes. 
"But he was so- so sure of himself!" 
"Oh he's always like that. Pretty sure it's an act, he's actually super sweet when you get to know him." 
You look up and stare at Eddie in his swim shorts. He'd been naked last night, but with the low light and distraction of seeing his privates for the first time you hadn't had the opportunity to really look at him all over. 
He was lean and tall, but there was a broadness to his shoulders and a sinew to his muscles that made him stand out. Tattoos littered his frame, more than you thought he had but the detail was lost at this distance. You were walking closer, still staring at him, when he captures you. Smiling that smug grin of his he holds his arms out as if on display. 
"See something you like sweetheart?" 
On the edge of shying away, you look down; but then you remember Robin's words. He's the one with the crush on you. Feeling a little braver, bolstered by that thought, you walk closer, a couple of feet away from him, and stop. 
"You look really good Eddie." 
Pulling your t-shirt over your head, you smile at Eddie's reaction. Clearly not expecting such a bold move from you, his cheeks and neck are flushed pink. For once he seems speechless. You slip your skirt off and away, kicking it to one side. 
This leaves you in your tiny baby blue triangle bikini, with delicate daisies embroidered on the hem. For once, your cleavage is fully displayed, and the ties for the bottoms ride high on your hips. You slip two fingers under each tied side and pull them up ever so slightly. 
Eddie's eyes dart down and back up again, and you swear you see him swallow thickly in his throat. 
"Well, you swimming or not handsome?" 
Without a further glance you kick your shoes off and wade into the chilly water. 
OK, keep calm, just look at him now. 
Risking a quick peek back, you see him standing gormlessly on the sand, mouth hanging open. He looks so dorky, so unlike the Eddie you've seen so far that you giggle aloud. 
Steve calls out to him, already in the clear water. He's stumbling into the lake after you then as if a fire was lit underneath him. Robin makes her way in too, and pretty sure you're laughing and splashing each other in earnest, the boys taking turns in dunking each other underwater. 
Steve keeps screaming about his hair, which just makes you all laugh that little bit louder. Soon he's moping about it and swims off surprisingly fast. Robin says she wants to dry out and wanders back to the beach to read a little, leaving you and Eddie alone. 
He swims straight to you, bodies a couple of inches apart. Suddenly the water doesn't feel so cold, warmed by the heat he seems to pull from you just by being close. That ache is there again, wanting to be filled by Eddie. You try and shake the thought away. 
"Seems a little skimpy for a scout leader," he says, gesturing at your two piece. 
"Well, I don't wear this one with the troop," you reply, attempting to look blasé about it. 
"So, wore this just for me, sweetheart?" 
You shrug, but know your eyes betray you, honesty etched into the look you give him. 
"You did, didn't you? That's cute," he responds to his own question, reaching a hand up to hold you by the waist. All of a sudden his breath is in your ear, his other hand reaching up to your chest. 
"You look hot by the way, I like the little flowers," as he says it he runs a finger over the hem of your bikini bra making you shudder. 
"Eddie," you whisper, meaning to scold him but it just comes out a little too breathy for that. 
He continues to whisper in your ear, each word sending a butterfly loose in your swirling stomach.  "Wondering if I can stay in that tent of yours again. To stay warm?" 
You laugh, turning to face him. "That's not all you want and you know it." 
"Yeah?" He comes closer, lips so close to brushing yours, holding your chin between thumb and forefinger. You clench your thighs together as your eyes flutter shut. 
"Seems you want more as well," he laughs, pulling back from you. The frown that appears on your face tells him all he needs to know. 
As he moves away, his hand drops down, knuckles dragging slowly over your nipple, already pebbled by the water. 
"Maybe later princess." 
He turns to get out of the water. Furious with how forward he just was you shout after him. 
"Eddie, you are such-" 
"A cocky mother fucker?" He shouts back, stealing your thunder. 
You clench your fists, nearly losing it treading water, and decide to swim away to cool off. 
You're finding Robin's words hard to believe. He still seems so confident; maybe his little chat with Steve was a rouse to get you here so he could tease you. If he has liked you all this time, maybe it's just a sexual thing. Seduce the band geek. 
When the ache between your thighs is lessened by the burning muscles in your arms and legs you swim back to shore and dry off, laying on your towel to read. 
It's like the universe has it in for you today. A few more pages into your fantasy book and suddenly there's a sex scene. Usually, you'd just skim over the 'fruity bits' as your mom called them but now? Now it was as if Eddie had altered your brain chemistry and you found yourself absorbing every word in detail, thighs clenched together almost to the point of pain. 
"What you reading?" 
You jump visibly and look up to see Eddie couching over you, sodden locks leaving pitter patter drips on your legs. 
"Eddie, you're dripping." 
He smiles mischievously. 
"Am I making you wet, sweetheart?" 
You roll your eyes and replace your bookmarker, putting your book down to one side. 
"Yes, Eddie, I'm soaking wet for you." 
Triumph flashes over your features as you take in his wide eyes; so shocked at your reply he's nearly choking on air. 
"You are strange Eddie. You can give it but you can't take it, can you?" 
His eyebrows raise and he attempts to cover his flustered appearance. 
"I'm just surprised, I thought you were a good girl." 
Ignoring your heart thumping hard in your chest at those words, you shrug. 
"And here I was thinking it was because you've had a crush on me since high school." 
Eddie opens his mouth, and promptly closes it. When he speaks again it's quieter, almost like he's embarrassed. 
"Who- how did-" 
"Robin." 
"Of course." 
He stares at you then, all bravado gone. A moment passes where you both try and work out what this means, what the other is thinking.
Eddie coughs and stands up, breaking the spell. 
"We're heading back to have lunch, if you wanna come." 
He walks off then, not a further glance at you. Wondering if you upset him somehow, you gather your things and head back to camp. 
********************
Later that evening, you're huddled around a campfire again having a couple of beers; or, in the case of Steve, several beers. Eddie had been civil, nice even, but there was no edge to him right now. You're not sure if you miss it or not, realising that you had actually grown fond of the push and pull between you, and that grin of his. 
He'd disappeared at one point, and returned a little later with his acoustic guitar; beginning playing a little aimlessly, just background music to your tiny circle. He played beautifully; it really was mesmerising to watch his fingers dance over the strings. 
"Play me a song, Eddie." You say, before you realise you were saying it aloud. 
"Yeah?" He flashes a small smile and you encourage him by placing your hand on his knee. 
"OK, just for you then sweetheart." 
He breaks into a rendition of Should I Stay Or Should I Go, by the Clash. You're almost certain it's a jab at you because of last night and your failure to make your mind up. You don't mind; listening to the rest of the lyrics you realise you're hoping he means more than just a little in-joke. If you say that you are mine, I'll be here till the end of time.
When he finishes you all clap, Robin as quickly as a bird's wings flutters, and Steve just a little too loudly, probably due to too much alcohol. 
"Thank you Eddie, that was brilliant." You smile softly at him. 
"No problem sweets." He moves to put the guitar away but you wave your arm at him. 
"Can I play something?" 
A sharp intake of breath rings out from Steve and Robin but you pay it no mind. Eddie looks at you like he's sizing you up. Seems he comes to the conclusion that you aren't just going to pull some rockstar move and smash it on the ground, he passes it to you carefully. 
You take it reverently in your hands and get comfortable with it, tuning the G string slightly as it was a little off when you heard it. 
An idea springs to mind and you grin deviously to Robin over the fire, a grin which is reciprocated. She knows what you're about to do. The Band Camp thing.
You start to play the very beginning of a song extremely loudly, singly wildly off key.
"Kumbaya, my Lord-" 
"Don't you fuckin' dare!" Eddie shouts, lurching a hand toward you to clamp over the fret. 
"I'm kidding!" You giggle, prying his fingers away. Robin's laughing and Steve looks like he's about to burst, swaying in his seat. 
"OK, no funny business." 
"Not unless you ask for it." You wink, and start to play what you had intended all along. 
"One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all…"
You lose yourself in the song, the melody. When you were younger you had just assumed it was nothing but a song about Alice in Wonderland. You knew better now, but it was fun to play and it suited your voice. 
As you came to the conclusion your eyes fluttered shut and you sang out the last couple of lines like no one was even there. 
"Remember what the dormouse said
Feed your head
Feed your head!"
Whooping and clapping finally reaches your ears as you open your eyes. Robin is going insane; Steve is shouting but it sounds slurred. Eddie just looks stunned as you pass his precious guitar back to him.
"You're incredible sweetheart." He looks genuinely impressed, staring at you with such intensity it makes you squirm. 
"It was OK, my strumming's a little sloppy." 
"But your voice! Jesus Christ, I've got goosebumps. You should sing, like, all the time." 
You laugh, swatting him with your hand. 
"I think that might get a little annoying." 
"I'd love to listen to it all the time." 
The sweet moment is broken by Robin gagging loudly. 
"Munson that was so cheesy I'm gonna hurl." 
He just shrugs, unbothered, and puts his guitar away. You didn't think it was too cheesy. In fact, you're breathless, thoughtless. The ache was settling back in, so deep in your bones there was no willing it away. It was clear; you needed him. Biblically. 
As that realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, a soft thud breaks through to you. Steve has fallen backwards, already snoring. 
"Well, looks like he needs to go to bed. Give me a hand guys." 
Eddie stands up and lifts Steve bodily round his waist. Robin and you hover nearby, but he doesn't need your help after all. 
Steve's giggling childishly, slurring words together. 
"Don' wanna go bed, wan' sing too!" 
"Sing in the morning, big guy." 
You help Robin tuck him into his sleeping bag, as Steve mumbles Kumbaya under his breath. 
Robin huffs. "I'll take it from here," and quieter, just to you, she whispers, "I'm putting earplugs in, go have fun." 
"Robin, I-" 
"Shhh you'll wake the baby. Just go, go!" 
You leave the tent and see Eddie sitting by the fire, rolling a joint. 
"Erm, Robin's going to bed too." 
"Oh?" He looks at you, quirking one eyebrow. "Are you?" 
"I'm not tired." 
That shit-eating grin of his is back, tugging at the corners of his mouth slowly. 
You sit down, right next to him, knees touching. He finishes rolling, licking it closed with a pointed tongue you can't help but stare at. 
As he starts smoking, you finally let loose what's been on your mind all day. 
"Why did you act funny with me? After I said you have a crush?" 
He huffs a little laugh, blowing smoke through his nose. 
"I thought that was obvious. I was embarrassed." 
"Really? I didn't know Eddie Munson could get embarrassed." 
He takes another drag and looks away. 
"Yeah, well it happens. I don't like people knowing too much about me. Rather come across as mean and scary and-" 
"-cocky?" 
"Ha, yeah." 
It's quiet again, but not a loaded quiet. You feel comfortable, almost enjoying the silence; just the slight rustle of pine needles in the breeze, and an owl hooting far away. 
"You want some of this?" 
Eddie's touch pulls you back to the moment, rough fingertips grazing you. The touch burns again, but differently this time. This time you melt under it. 
"Can you, do that thing?" You ask in a small voice. 
He smiles wickedly, straightening his legs out. 
"Come here" He says as he pats his lap. You straddle him awkwardly, not sure if this is what he meant, but a firm hand grabs you by the ass and shifts you closer to him so your chests are flush. 
"Like this?" You ask quietly, breathing the question. 
"Just like that baby." 
He takes a long toke and beckons you forward with one finger. When you're in range, nose lightly brushing his, he brings your chin toward him with one firm hand and presses his lips to your mouth. 
Stiffening with surprise, you quickly soften, disarmed by his lips. You part yours and he breathes the smoke into you, allowing you to inhale deeply. Breaking away, you exhale the smoke downwards and look into his deep eyes. 
"Do it again." 
He bites his lip and smiles, flashing his teeth. He repeats the gesture; taking a pull, smashing his lips to yours and breathing into you. He doesn't let you pull away to breathe out; instead he presses his tongue into your mouth. Smoke burns your nose as you submit to him, the kiss becoming filthy and desperate as he grips onto the flesh of your ass. 
Finally he lets up, if only to breathe. You're both panting, electricity in the air passing between and through you. 
"I like it like that." You smile, hand resting on his chest. 
"You keep surprising me sweetheart." He responds, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips. 
A fuzziness rushes through every nerve, all of your body crying out, singing for him. 
"You know, I don't mind cocky Eddie." 
"Yeah? I thought I annoyed you." 
"A little. But it kinda turns me on." You respond, rolling your hips into him.
"Oh fuck sweetheart," he roughly grips you, forcing you to do it again, "you drive me fuckin' crazy." 
He's on your neck, kissing and licking at you almost tenderly. 
"Eddie, please," you whisper, mind abandoning any clarity as he kisses you. 
"Please? What do you need, sweetheart?" 
How can you answer? What do you need?
"Eddie, I-I need you, please," you whisper into his ear, rocking against his hardening bulge. 
He bites down on your neck, eliciting a gasp to spill from your lips. 
"Tent." Is all he manages to say, and you stumble upwards on wobbly legs, to lead him to it. 
Fumbling for the zip, you just about get inside it when you feel his hands on you gently pushing you forward. A small touch is all it takes and you're falling onto the air bed, knees bending as you collapse face forward. 
He's on your back before you can think, firm arms caging you in from behind. 
"You need me? Really?" 
You nod, squirming underneath him, a small hand curling around his forearm. 
"Dreamed about you saying that, fuck." He whispers, lips pressing to your shoulder, "turn around." 
You can't find it in you to not comply. Wobbling the mattress, you twist to face him, engulfed in the intensity of his stare, illuminated by the fading light emanating from the fire. 
"Say it again." It's soft, but ironclad in the centre. 
"I need you Eddie." 
"Fuck" He huffs, moving down your torso, pulling your t-shirt up so it kisses the edge of your breasts. He looks up at you with pleading eyes; a look that turns your insides to mush. 
"Can you turn the light on? I need to see you." 
He sounds so desperate, so in need that you waste no time in grabbing your camp light and switching it on, bathing you both in cool white light. 
As he's pulling your top up, you assist and pull it over your head, flinging it to a corner. 
"You are really beautiful." He says, drinking you in with his eyes, as a calloused hand strokes between the valley of your breasts. You slide under his confident touches, getting more anxious by the minute. 
"Can I taste you?" 
You nod, and he unbuttons your skirt, pulling your panties down with a roughness that makes you flinch. You're entirely exposed. 
"I've wanted this, wanted you, for a long time." 
You wriggle underneath him, and reply. "Didn't you get me like this last night?" 
"This," he says, gesturing to your revealed flesh, "this is different." 
You don't quite get it and want him to explain further, but his lips are on your nipples and all that comes out of you is a heady moan. A firm knee pushes your thighs apart and you bend to his will, allowing him to kiss down, and down, leaving hot pressured mouth trails to your stomach. 
When his lips meet the tops of your thighs you cry out his name. 
He understands, slipping his tongue between your folds and licking at your clit with pointed precision. 
"Oh fuck!" 
A chuckle emanates from his throat as he doubles his efforts, flicking and suckling at you in earnest. Thick fingers tease your entrance and one slides into your glistening opening, pumping slowly. 
It shocks through your body, setting loose tendrils of pleasure so profound it's almost a religious experience. He prods another finger at you, sliding it next to the first and it burns, making you hiss. 
Eddie mumbles platitudes into your pussy, telling you how good a job you're doing, how proud he is, how you're a good girl. His good girl. 
The tension is unbelievable, clenching every muscle as your breath comes in short pants.
"That's it sweetheart, sing for me." 
The fingers curl, stroking something incessantly inside you that rips a sultry groan from deep within your chest cavity, and without further warning your orgasm washes through. It collects and expands, a force of nature that flies out and collides like stars in the universe.
Your back falls to the air mattress, and that's the only signal you have that it ever left. You feel soaked in your own juices, thighs uncomfortably wet. 
Eddie hovers over your face. You're not quite sure when he got there. 
"That OK sweetheart?" 
You don't reply, you can't. Your response can only be carnal, feeding into the biting, gnawing need that still refuses to lessen its grip on your core. Bringing shaking hands upward, you wind them into his hair and pull his face forcefully towards yours, tongue slipping in to taste your slick in his mouth, groaning at the tangy sweet flavour. 
He collapses against you, full weight of his lithe body pressed into yours, but it's not enough. Pulling away and leaving less than an inch of space you voice your frustration. 
"Eddie, please, I- I want you. I want you inside me, please." 
Eddie shakes his head for a second, then deep brown eyes seek yours for any doubt, and come up empty. 
"Are you sure sweetheart?" 
The nod you reciprocate with is painfully fast, hurting the muscles of your neck. He looks uncertain, but discards his clothes, kneeling in front of you in his boxer shorts. 
"I need you to be sure. I can't give it back." 
You let your legs fall further apart, giving him the view of you open and ready for him. 
"Please." 
Underwear has never been discarded quicker. He has his cock in his hand, sliding on a condom from his crumpled jeans at record speed. A second later and he's towering over you, nose brushing yours and dick lined up to your sopping entrance. 
His tip breaches you, so much thicker than his fingers, and you wince. You can tell he's trying to be careful, pushing into you slowly, watching for any signs you want to stop. 
You're so full, and he just keeps going. A moment later and you let out a little startled cry as a sharp pain shoots from deep inside. 
"You OK sweetheart?" He stops his movements, staring at your face with a worried expression. 
"I'm fine, just, go all the way" you manage through gritted teeth. 
He slips the last of it deep, deep inside as you yelp at the suddenness. Then, he's still, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers with his over your head, his other arm holding him perfectly motionless above you. 
"That's it, you're OK, so fuckin' tight, fuck," he says to you, kissing your cheek. It burns, the feel of him, but a fullness is beginning to overtake that ache. 
"You know, I thought you were afraid of me in high school." He half laughs, kissing the tip of your nose. It's such a sweet gesture from the so-called frightening man that you giggle a little too. 
"I was," you admit, staring into his deep eyes.
"Then, we come here and you look like you're gonna eat me alive. Then, you're all innocent, and now… fuck, I can't keep up." 
You appreciate what he's doing, talking to you, distracting you from the pain. It helps; it's settled into a dull throb and your need from him is outranking it. 
"Eddie, you can move." 
With a peck to your lips he pulls out a little and thrusts back in, setting a slow and steady pace. 
This is so much better than his hands, or his tongue. On every thrust he's massaging at something that makes you moan, again and again. 
"You're doing real good sweetheart, my good fuckin' girl." 
All of a sudden you feel it, all of it. His lean weight comforting over you, the squeeze of his fingers in yours, the throb of his member inside you, his words. It's all too much. Your eyes gloss over and a tear works its way down your temple. 
"Oh shit, you want me to-" He starts as he slows down a little. 
"Don't you fucking dare, please, please, I-I need-" 
He grins at you; that self satisfied look that turns your legs to jelly. 
"What do you need, sweetheart? Whatever you want, I'll give it to you." 
"Harder Eddie, oh God!" 
He snaps his hips into you with much more force; once, twice, three times and you scream his name, pussy clenching him hard, every muscle tense. As everything unravels you go limp, whimpering at the pulse that you can feel pounding in your core. 
When your eyes finally decide to open, he's leaving kisses as light as a butterfly's wings on your cheek. 
"Woah," is all you can say, between breathless giggles. Tears are falling but you don't care enough to wipe them away. 
Eddie unlatches his hand from yours and does it himself. 
"That was so hot. You need to do that again," he whispers, beginning to grind into you slowly.
"I nearly died Eddie, it might finish me off!" 
He laughs back, but doesn't quit; hips still driving into you leisurely. 
"What's life without a little risk?" 
You stare up at him, biting your lip, a question on the tip of your tongue that you're too nervous to ask. 
"What is it?" He asks, brow furrowed, as if you were about to ask him to stop. 
"Can I… wait, don't worry." 
He does stop then, to put his hand to your face and stroke you with his thumb.
"Hey hey hey, come on, what baby?" 
You whisper it quietly, voice small and second guessing. 
"Can I try, erm, being on top?" 
You're surprised that Eddie's face didn't split in half from the sheer wideness of his grin. 
"Holy shit, yes, please." 
He winds his arms underneath your frame and flips you so fast your vision blurs, until he's underneath you. You sit up, his cock still buried within, and you gasp at the new angle. 
"Eddie, Jesus Christ!" 
Palms splayed on his chest, you control your breathing a little. This angle is devastating, pressing harshly against that place inside that has you throbbing around him. 
Eddie chuckles darkly as his hands slide over the flesh of your thighs, rubbing back and forth, until they work their way to your hips and pull you up ever so slightly, only to drop you back down again. 
"Just like that sweetheart, 'Kay?" 
He tilts his head to one side, that mocking tone fuelling the embers of your desire. Rising up on shaky knees you pull off him and slide back down, trying to find some semblance of rhythm. Your clit grazes his pubic hair on one pass and you nearly lose it completely, the feeling sending a bolt of pure pleasure up your spine. 
"Oh my God!" 
"Yeah? That good?" 
You hum and nod, words escaping you, now rolling your hips on each bounce to get that sensation over and over. 
Eddie's talking now, watching how much you writhe and whine at his words. 
"That's it sweetheart. Wanting to- oh fuck- ride me, on your first time. Oh yes, fuck, just like that- dirty, my dirty fuckin' girl." 
"Eddie, oh God, can you, fuck, please-" 
"What is it sweetheart? Anything, you can have anything." 
His words embolden you, and before you can hesitate your hands are gripping one of his and leading it to your throat. You're not sure why, but you know deep in your core that you need it. 
Eddie looks shocked by your moments but quickly recovers, fingers slotting around your throat, squeezing lightly at the sides. 
Speeding up, feeling the pressure of his hand on your windpipe, you throw your body into each movement. 
"Fuck Eddie, harder!" 
He squeezes and you let go of everything, breath leaving you. All composure, all thought. It's just you and Eddie, and his hand, and his cock. Screaming aloud, you fold almost double, collapsing into him with a shocked, delicate whimper. 
His fingers relinquish their firm grip, coming to rest on the back of your head in a comforting, tender hold. 
"I was right, you are a freak." 
Laughing aloud, you have just enough bones left in your neck to lift it ever so slightly. He looks surprised, sure, and really aroused, judging by his hooded gaze. 
"Are you not… done?" You ask, as you feel his impossibly hard length still throbbing inside you. 
"What can I say, I've got stamina." 
That smug face is back, a flash of canines and confidence. You'd roll your eyes if it wasn't so sexy. 
No time for a witty comeback though, as he holds you close to him and thrusts upwards with abandon. Colours swirl in your vision as you try to stay attached to reality, focusing on the feel of his skin, the pounding of his rhythm, and the light in his eyes. 
"Fuck I'm close, I'm so fuckin' close. You're, oh shit, so- oh God, can't believe you're letting me do this." 
Slack jawed and practically dribbling, you let him use you to chase his own release, trying to weakly meet his thrusts. A pulse deep inside is brought to your attention, and it's not yours. Looking at his face, you watch it awash with ecstasy as he holds you tightly and throbs his climax out. 
His muscles melt, holding you still but so loosely that the lack of pressure surprises you, as if you were only aware of how tight his grip had been at this very moment. 
The only sounds are the nightlife of insects around the tent, and panting, heaving breaths. Sliding off of him in an organic gesture, you curl up into his arms, finally feeling sated and at ease. 
Lips are pressed into the top of your head, kissing you over your hair. No words are spoken; none need to be. For a shining moment, this is all you need. To be held, and cared for. 
Minutes go by, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. Before you drift off, Eddie breaks the spell cast over both of you. 
"Was that OK princess?" 
"That was incredible Eddie." 
He kisses the top of your head again, then seems to remember himself. 
"Fuck sweetheart, just, stay right there." 
Clambering to his feet he pulls the condom off, tying it in a knot and discarding it into a corner to be thought of later. He's back then, spreading your legs. 
'Eddie, you can't just-" 
"I'm just looking after you sweetheart. You got some tissues or something?"
Furrowing your brows, you point to your wash bag near the foot of the sleeping bag. He paws through it wordlessly, and brings out some tissues and wet wipes. 
"Sweetheart I'm so sorry." 
"What's wrong?" You ask, panic riding your words. 
"I've made you bleed." Eddie looks crushed, so upset at your prior pain, anguish etched into his face. 
"It's OK Eddie, it's normal." 
"You should have said. I'm so sorry." 
You laugh a little, touched by his concern. 
"I didn't know! It's alright, it doesn't hurt now." 
Placated slightly by your answer, he cleans you both up as well as he can, before slipping into the sleeping bag with you. 
A thousand questions perch on the edge of your tongue, but it's so warm, so cosy and right, that your body denies all words for a moment. 
When you feel capable of speech you look up at him. 
"Stamina, huh?" 
He flushes, looking down at your smiling face. 
"I may have tactically jerked off beforehand."
"When??" You giggle, fingers flirting over his exposed chest. 
"When I went to get my guitar." 
"Eddie, how did you know that-" 
"OK, OK!" He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles before hiding behind it, "I didn't know, not for sure. You just looked so good in that little two piece, I couldn't hold it in." 
"Perv," you respond, but your eyes are soft. 
"Yep." 
Giggling, you slip into a calm, contented sleep in his arms.
********************
You wake up a little later than intended, no doubt exhausted from last night. The tent feels empty. Upon realising that Eddie's missing a dread settles in your stomach. Bile rises as you sling some clothes on. Maybe he's had his way with you and that's it.
Exiting the tent, you see he's just by the fire, trying to get it going again, a cigarette dangling from his pouting lips. 
"Oh would you just- come on!" He says as he angrily flicks his lighter, trying to get the wood to catch. 
You smile, relief washing over you, and walk over to help. 
"I'm begging, come on- oh, sweetheart," he looks a little sheepish as he speaks to you, mumbling around his cigarette. "I was gonna make you coffee and bring it to you but the damn fire won't start." 
You giggle, and rearrange the little pile, adding a few twists of paper to the base, and hold your hand out to him. He looks at you blankly for a second, then comes to his senses, placing the lighter in your palm. 
With one stroke the papers alight, and starting to catch the rest of the twigs. The couple of logs won't take long to catch. 
"Witchcraft." 
"Nope, just girl scouts." 
"You can go back in the tent if you want, I'll make you a drink." 
"Eddie?" 
"Huh?" He turns to you, pot of water in his hand. 
"Good morning." You smile shyly at him. He grins, placing the pot on the ground and stubbing out his cigarette. Strong arms slot their way around your waist and you fling your arms around his neck, grinning stupidly at each other. 
"Good morning. Good night?" It's framed as a question, and you know what he's getting at. 
"Great night." 
Smiling wider, he presses a kiss to your forehead. Puckering your lips to ask for a proper kiss, you hear a very loud cough. 
"Good morning love birds." Robin wiggles her eyebrows at you both. You move to break away from Eddie, but he steals a kiss anyway, and pulls you close to his side, arm firmly around you. 
"Is Steve alive?" He asks, looking at Robin. 
"Well, he got up in the night to throw up, just glad he didn't do it in the tent. He's dead to the world right now. He's been singing in his sleep you know. Nearly suffocated him with a pillow." 
You both laugh at that, and then hear a loud groan from the tent. 
Eddie glances at you with mischief and shouts out towards Steve's tent.
"Harrington! Wanna sing for us, big guy?" 
"Urgh." Is the only reply. Robin rolls her eyes and busies herself with the fire. 
After a while, the coffees are ready; you all attempt to rouse Steve but he's gone back to sleep, groaning whenever you call out to him. 
Then, it's just the sad business of taking down your tent. There's a special kind of melancholy reserved for such an occasion; pretty soon there's no sign at all that it was ever there. Afraid that your memories, your feelings, about last night would fade too, you walk over to Eddie who is perched on a stump fitting the last of his things in a bag. 
"Eddie?" 
"Yeah sweetheart?" He asks, still fumbling with his bag. 
Do you still like me? Do you want to see me after this? Was this all a dream?
"Can I get a ride back with you? Steve and Robin are gonna be a while." 
You gesture over to where Steve had finally emerged, whining and packing his stuff, tent still upright. 
"Sure, anything you need." He flashes a tight lipped smile and reaches to grasp your hand briefly. 
The ride back to town with him is chatty, even if it's only surface level stuff. Your rendition of White Rabbit had him fumbling around the glove compartment and pulling out a few older classic rock tapes that you happily listened to; music was a big part of your life, at least you both had that in common. His eyes light up whenever you talk about a band or song that he likes too, gesturing so emphatically with his hand you have to remind him to look at the road. 
Pretty soon you're pulling up to a crossroads, except Eddie pulls over instead. 
"What's wrong?" 
He huffs, smiling at you sadly. 
"If I keep driving forward I've got to say goodbye to you, take you home," he admits. Your heart flutters at the admission. 
"Where do you live, Eddie?" He looks confused, but points to the left turning. 
"Eddie, turn left." 
"Really?" 
"Really. I was supposed to stay at Robin's tonight anyway." 
His grin is downright manic as he pulls back on the road, making short work of the drive to his trailer. 
He bundles you out of the van and opens the trailer door, both of your bags heaved over one of his shoulders. 
The sight of an older gentleman startles you as he potters around the kitchen area. 
"Hey! This is Wayne, my Uncle. Wayne, this is my girlfriend." 
Your eyes widen as he gives your name to his uncle and you shake hands with him, the roughest hand you think you've ever touched, but the softest grip. 
"Pleasure to meet you, miss. I'm heading out today, so I'll see you two later I'm guessing." 
He waves and smiles fondly at the pair of you, and leaves. 
"Sorry, thought he would've left already." He explains, pulling you both to the back of the trailer and into what you assume is his room. 
Allowing yourself to be led, still feeling shell shocked, you perch on the edge of his bed as he dumps the bags on the floor. 
Eddie's talking, saying how he wishes he tidied before he left, how the trailer's not much but it's home, and his uncle…
"Eddie, wait." 
He stops mid flow to look at you. 
"Girlfriend?" 
"Well yeah? I mean, if you want to. I didn't ask, did I?" He flushes pink, hand reaching up to nibble at his thumb. 
"I mean, you don't know me, really." You shrink, almost folding in on yourself. 
"Hey," he sits down next to you, stroking your jaw with his finger, "I know enough. And I let you touch my guitar. We're practically married now." 
Lips press softly to yours, a delicate touch that has all tension flying from your body in a rush. 
"Eddie…" You whisper, giving him a butterfly kiss with the tip of your nose. 
"Hmm?" 
"You smell really bad." 
He laughs and grabs you around the waist, pulling you down sharply to lay on the bed. 
"So do you." 
"A point well made." A response, but you don't move, snuggling deeper into his neck. 
"So, I've got an idea. Let's have showers, get into some comfy stuff, and cuddle. Probably got a movie or two we can watch?" 
The normalcy of the situation is surprising, but most welcome. 
Smiling wickedly, you nip at his neck and whisper in his ear. 
"One condition: we shower together." 
He groans loudly, hands stroking at any skin he can reach. 
"Fuuuck, sweetheart, I've created a monster." 
You laugh, and hold him tightly. Eddie Munson isn't so scary, after all.
Taglist (just some people I thought might like this, hope you don't mind!)
@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonfuxks
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superblysubpar · 14 days
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Sincerely, Yours:
bestfriend!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places | 18+ Only, NSFW | main menu
the song: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Minds - all of steve's music
6.6k words
warnings: "inexperienced" reader - in the form of never really making out/receiving none/not great foreplay - masturbating for comfort/ease before sex, SMUT (public - in the back of Steve's car - "caught" by Hopper when you're done, oral, fingering, steve cums in his levi's cause I'm a sucker for doing this to him, what can I say?)
A/N: Once upon a time, I asked for requests, and I failed to fulfill many of them (you may have heard this story before), but this one sat in the drafts for many many months, and then I really chickened out posting it for a long time. Everyone say thanks to @palmtreesx3 - I owe her and the request for the prompt "we're not really just best friends, are we?"(which isn't even used in this, but you get the picture) and The Breakfast Club for this fic 💛
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He didn’t hear it at first, over the last remaining popping kernels. 
“What?” He called around a mouthful of the snack he was already dipping into before it was finished. 
In the other room, your attention was strictly on Judd Nelson, but you tried again, with no real power or meaning behind the words. 
“Want me to pause it?”
“No,” he shook his head and rolled his eyes to no one but himself in the kitchen, “Don’t think you need to pause the movie I’ve seen three times…this week.”
“I’d love one, thanks!”
Steve snorted at your response that made no sense, it becoming apparent you weren’t listening to him at all.  He should have known this was his fate after the way you acted when it was showing at The Hawk. You saw it with him, then Robin, then Nancy, and Steve put his foot down when you tried to drag him down there for a fourth time.
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Now here he was, dumping the popcorn into a large bowl and watching it again. He didn’t even know what number of views he was on with you, which had him worried about your sanity, ‘cause you had to be watching it without him too. 
Steve snagged two cans of Coke out of the fridge, assuming that’s what you’d love one of, and kicked the door closed with his heel. 
He cradled the popcorn bowl against his side and held each of the cans with one hand and spread fingers, socked feet slipping on the hardwoods when he rounded the corner and saw you again. 
Despite becoming incredibly bored by the movie, he did love watching you watch it, because somehow, it’s as if you’re watching it for the first time every time. 
Your white tube socks were stark against the dark wood of the coffee table, bunching around your ankles that led him to the exposed skin of your calves. Which led to the way your blue skirt fanned over your thighs all nice, then the Queen shirt he got you for your birthday tucked into it, your thumb between your teeth with your eyebrows bunched together. 
His best friend was really fucking pretty. 
He almost said it out loud, which had him flopping onto the couch a little quickly, a little too heavy with his fall. Careless in his aim of the cushion and causing popcorn to spill from the bowl into your lap as his shoulder jostled yours. 
Before he could even say sorry, you were grabbing the popcorn from your lap like it was the bowl, blissfully unaware it wasn’t, all the while making heart eyes at dreamy Bender.
“Thanks,” your appreciation came out heavy around the buttery and salty handful of the snack, the Coke you’d love sitting on the coffee table, already forgotten.
Steve hummed, his amused lips twitched in a losing fight against a smile at your captivated stare fixated on the screen. He suppressed an eye roll at the scene about to happen, as he swiped condensation off the cool metal of the can with his thumb. 
He popped the drink open with a loud hiss, slurping his first sip - a habit you’d normally swat at his chest for - but you were too busy focusing on the words about to leave Judd’s mouth. 
“Have you ever kissed a boy on the mouth?”
They sort of just tumbled out of Steve too, while his eyes glanced over the popcorn bowl, searching for a perfectly buttery piece. Which is why he didn’t see that he, your best friend, quoting the scene that has dialogue that got you all hot and bothered more than others, had your entire body freezing. 
Steve tossed the acquired piece into the air, catching it in his mouth before he turned to face your profile. He found you with widened eyes, chest rising and falling a little too quickly, and he grinned. 
“Have you ever been felt up…over the bra…under the blouse…your shoes off, hoping to god your parents don’t walk in?”
He’s simply delighted when he quotes the scene again and your body shifts, toes curling as you arched your neck away from. You kept your eyes on the screen, not giving him the satisfaction of eye contact because of what he was slowly, finally, realizing.
You were totally turned on and he couldn’t wait to tease you about it forever.
Steve leaned in closer, whispering along with the movie, “Over the panties…no bra…blouse unbuttoned…Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?”
He’s gearing up, about to tease you, make some dumb boy comment about being hot for the school freak, when your quiet, barely a breath response had him pausing. 
“No.”
Did you just say that out loud?!
Your head turned to find Steve blinking at you, creases in his forehead deepening beneath the stray locks of hair that fell forward. 
Looks like you did.
“Ste-”
“What? What do you mean no?”
Your eyes closed when you both spoke at the same time, avoiding his curious stare. Hands roamed to your cheeks to hide your face as your head fell towards your knees. 
As you shook your head no, your response gets muffled into your skirt. “I meant no.”
Steve’s hand nudged at your shoulder, prodding for clarity and for you to sit up. He failed to sound casual when his question came out incredulously.
“No, you’ve never kissed a guy?”
Your hands still covered your face as you fell back against the couch with a groan, “No, I..I have. I just…”
Steve pulled at your hands, his heart racing like it was overtime. All these years, he thought you’d been with all these other guys, his quiet jealousy seething under the surface of his tinged green from envy skin. 
A breath, well, more of a huff really, slipped past your lips as your gaze dropped to the hands holding yours in your lap. “I’ve never really made out with anyone? Just like…a quick kiss or two. I don’t even know, can you even count it as kissing? Over before it starts kind of thing…”
The ramble trailed off, the room silent save for the movie still playing and the giant, loud, big, fat, zero response from Steve. You counted the threads in the carpet, the pieces of popcorn in the bowl as your skin grew hotter and hotter from the reveal he’s left just hanging there until he  finally sputtered out a sorry excuse for one.
“Are you shitting me? We’re like…old.”
It doesn’t come out how he meant it to at all, he’s just shocked. He’s wincing almost immediately as the words reach his ears and brain, he knows how it sounded. He wishes he could take it back when your head whips up, hurt eyes meeting his as you ripped your hands away from him. 
“Yeah, Steve,” you scoffed, jaw pulsing as your voice dripped with sarcasm that tried to cover  the embarrassment, “I’m shitting you. Thought it’d be real funny to trick you into thinking your best friend is a loser who’s barely been kissed even though she’s so old.”
Pieces of popcorn fell from your lap as you stood, not letting yourself wonder where they came from as you stomped around the coffee table and towards his entryway. 
“No, honey, wait-” he stumbled after you, spilling Coke down the front of his shirt as he did, “Shit.”
He patted at his chest like it’d do anything, shirt damp and sticking to his skin as he rounded the corner and found you lacing up your converse and shaking your head. 
“It’s fine, Steve. I’m fine. I just don’t feel like talking about it. I’m gonna go home. Don’t worry about it. Girl stuff.”
“No, please, I didn’t mean-”
His words stopped just as abruptly as your body, when the front door swung open to reveal an out of nowhere downpour. 
Your head fell as you started to ask, and he was already one step ahead of you.
“Can you please-”
“I’ll grab my keys.”
He was tripping up his stairs by the time he finished saying it. When he returned, it was in a clean shirt, jumping from the second to last step as he swirled the keys around his pointer finger. 
The light blue fabric of his new shirt pulled at his shoulders that hunched when your glare remained unwavering despite the apologetic puppy dog eyes he had going for him. 
You understood Steve didn’t mean for the comment to start the hole he was digging, and you knew you weren’t being fair for being so upset. It’s not like it was his fault, it was just your own insecurities manifesting in an anger towards him. 
The nagging feeling of being some sort of freak who’d never made out while even the little twerps who clung to Steve were, while your best friend was Steve Harrington, former king of Hawkins High only grew stronger. The thought of Steve thinking you were some sort of weirdo for being old and never making out had something in your gut churning, had a familiar sting behind your eyes forming that you tried your best to ignore. 
When Steve opened his mouth, about to try to make it all better again, you simply turned on your heel and stalked out into the rain. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the way you stomped through it, pretending to not be drowned. 
He quickly rushed behind you and got to the door first and swung it open, to which you rolled your eyes at, but slid in and got comfortable while he closed it for you nonetheless. 
Unsure why he went and changed as he raced around the hood and shot into the driver’s seat, totally soaked through to his skin now. He cranked the heat before swiping fingers over his eyes, a large hand ran through his hair and pushed it back only for it to fall into his eyes again. Steve reached over with wet and shaking fingers at the same time you held yours up, both of you pausing and glancing at the other’s hands. 
Steve was about to cup your fingers between his and blow warm breath onto them, just like he always did, but you ripped your hands down to your lap, and curled your body against the door, like you needed to be as far from him as you could be. 
Your damp forehead touched the cool glass of the window as he sighed, “Please don’t-”
“Just take me home, please?”
The tone in which the words were said has something in his chest breaking. Like you were really fucking sad, embarassed, it was a real plea to just take you home and leave you alone. 
So he wasn’t gonna do that, ‘cause he never was a great listener, so why start now?
He pretends though, he backs out of the driveway and heads in the direction of your apartment. He lets the radio fill the space and he turns the heat down when the air inside the car is heavier and warm despite your cold shoulder. The orange glow of the street lights slanted inside the car in a soothing rhythm as his wheels spun over the pavement until he was coming to the last four way stop before your apartment. 
It unfolds just as he had planned, when he’s still stopped at the deserted intersection, as your breath fogged up the glass when you asked, “Harrington, you planning on leaving the intersection anytime soon?”
His bottom lip wobbled as his teeth continued to press into it, thick fingers rubbing at a scruff dotted jaw as he thought out loud in an attempt to sway you. 
“Well, you see, I could go straight and take you home-” he started. 
“Right. Let’s do that.” You waved your hand towards the direction of the apartment that held the ice cream you were desperate to eat and wallow with while watching Pretty In Pink. 
“Or,” Steve interrupted right back, tapping on the steering wheel with his finger as he did, “I could go to the right. Pull into the diner. Buy you a milkshake and say sorry?”
The thing was, he was gonna go to the right regardless of your answer. He knew once you pulled into the parking lot there was no way you’d not at least go in and get fries and a shake, if not a whole burger. You’d done this dance before, him putting his foot in his mouth was not a new occurrence. 
Your lips twitched, but your arms stayed crossed as he hummed and whispered, “Tough choice…tough choice…”
Shoulders fell in defeat, but your mouth stayed downturned in a forced frown as you grumbled, “And fries.”
Steve smiled, turned on his blinker and nodded. He cleared his throat.
“And fries. Definitely.”
“And none of that you order yourself a vanilla shake and I order strawberry and you drink half of mine because it’s better and eat all the fries shit.”
“Of course,” Steve scoffed, “I would never do that.”
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Steve slipped his straw into your shake, pulling the glass across the sticky tabletop as you did the same with his. He tried not to smirk around the straw when you did, dipping a fry in his vanilla he ordered for a reason despite the strawberry being better. 
“Do you think Claire is a prude for never doing anything?”
He shook his head no almost immediately, swiping at stray ice cream from the corner of his mouth with his tongue. 
You fiddled with the straw wrapped between your fingers and narrowed your eyes at him. 
“Would your answer be the same if, say, Eddie was sitting here asking you? Not me, your best friend, who you have sudden pity for?”
He blinked at you and sighed, “I don’t have pity for you.”
“Your mouth and your eyes are telling two different stories Harrington,” you waved a fry at him as you spoke, gesturing to his face with it. 
Your gaze stayed on the fry you were ripping in half, focused on watching it sink into the sweet vanilla as he dared to say, “I just don’t get it.”
“What, that I haven’t done that and I’m so old,” you tried to tease, to move past it. 
But the way you were licking salt off your finger had him wondering if he swiped his own through the salt on the tray and pushed the pad against your lips if they would part like they were now, if he could taste it on your lips if he just leaned forward and-
“No, ‘cause you’re so fucking pretty.” 
He definitely said it out loud that time. 
You blinked at him, cheeks suddenly too warm for the cold and damp Spring that had been surrounding you all day.  
“Ste-”
“And so smart,” he licked his lips, leaning forward, unable to stop now that it was out, “And funny. And…and sweet, you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I know, I just don’t understand how guys aren’t falling over themselves, unable to do anything but make out with you, or more or-”
“I never said I didn’t do more,” you whispered, ignoring all of his compliments that made your chest feel all tight and sticky and choosing to argue with him instead because that was easier. 
“But you said…if you haven’t made out with anyone…” 
Your body slipped lower against the squeaky seat, embarrassed as you shrugged and Steve felt too hot in the tiny little booth, thinking about all those guys’ hands on you again, and then what you said, what it meant, really clicked. 
“Hold on…how…how’d…you didn’t, build up to it?” He asked softly, eyes bouncing over your face with worry. 
“Steve,” you grabbed for the other shake, and sat up straighter, “We don’t need to talk about this. It’s not import-”
“It’s so important,” he grabbed your hand and squeezed your fingers lightly, “Half the fun is all the build up to it. And,” he swallowed, forehead creasing with deeper worry, “And then it, it doesn’t hurt. ‘Cause tell me if I’m wrong, but if they weren’t making out with you, were they doing anything to make sure you felt good?”
You squirmed in your seat, fingers pushing up against his mindlessly, aimlessly, as you shrugged again. “It’s only hurt a few times. I learned that if I…um, If I got myself ready beforehand, that I was, uh, more comfortable.”
Steve’s fingers let go of yours with the excuse of grabbing a fry, because he was trying not to be a gross guy, but all he could think about was you in your bedroom, with your fingers between your thighs now. Did you play music? What song? Did you have underwear on? What color? With a shirt that your nipples were visibly hard through as you touched yourself and maybe it was his shirt or maybe you said his name or-
“Right,” Steve nodded, “Um, right. And that’s great, lots of people do that for a date, so like if you need or want to beforehand that’s not…that’s great. It just shouldn’t be the only thing, you know? They should be putting in the work, they should be wanting to. And dates! They should watch a movie with you, and dinner and drive around and then kiss so much you feel dizzy and then if you want, more.”
He finished his rambling speech and you smiled softly, unsure of what to say, because you knew he wasn’t wrong, it’s just that they had. 
“They did,” you sighed, “Well, not Paul.”
Steve scowled at the table, “Yeah, well, I’m sure you weren’t missing much. Who wants to yell out Paul?”
“Oh,” you laughed, “And Steve is so much better?”
He looked up at you, your smile sweet and kind and your eyes a little sad, but trying not to be and he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell you that if it was those lips and that voice saying it, it was better, because how could it not be? Like his name only had the best letters, like it belonged to the best guy in the world, one that belonged to you and no one else. 
But you were swiping at ice cream on your lips and sighing, saying something that made his chest ache instead. 
“They were nice dates. And it’s not like the sex was bad. But,” you looked out the window, eyes tracking the droplets of rain twinged neon from the light hanging above you both, “The kissing till I’m dizzy sounds nice. Is it…is it fun?”
“Yeah,” Steve whispered, admiring the way the red and blue lit up your profile before you turned to face him. 
And then he was saying something before he really thought it through, because god you weren’t just fucking pretty, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met and no way in hell was he letting anyone treat you the way you’d been ever again. So this was his chance, and he was taking the leap.
“I could…” he blew out a breath and smiled. He sat up straighter, and he searched for some sort of lingering king steve confidence he could latch onto without all the douche as he asked, “I could show you?”
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To both of your surprise, you’d said yes, and he paid and you were in the car, driving, and parked somewhere in what felt like seconds. Now your best friend sat across from you, both of you facing the center console, but not daring to do more. 
The rain beat against the roof of the maroon car, each drop a punctuated tick of a nonexistent clock - a meter for how much time was passing without movement, without words. Just both of your breathing filled the space. First exhaling, then desperately inhaling for more air as your chests rose and fell ragged. And then, like in some unspoken agreement only best friends can have, you both started to lean forward cause you just knew. 
Your heart’s thrum threatened to drown out the rain, building and building, screaming to break out of your chest, pounding in your ears while your cheeks grew warm and your stomach dipped as Steve’s tongue slipped out quickly and wetted his lips. 
But then he leaned and his eyes started to close and you giggled, fingers slipping over your lips as his eyelids shot open. 
“Sorry,” you gasped and shook your head and your hands out as you tried to be serious, “Your ‘I’m about to kiss you’ face is real cute, Harrington.”
Tried being the definitive word. 
“Cute?” He groaned, smiling, “Not sexy?”
You leaned in, faster this time, a smile matching his as you shrugged, “It’s nice. Never thought I’d be on the opposite side of it, is all.”
It’s easy to tilt your head and welcome the hand that reached up to cradle your jaw as he softly promised, “Your ‘I’m about to be kissed face’ is really cute too.”
The pad of his thumb brushed over the apple of your cheek in the tenderest touch you’d ever felt, before his fingers curled under your jaw and tilted you gently, slowly, up so his lips were right over yours. 
It felt like he was handling you like the most precious and fragile thing, like a prized possession that he’d only ever hold with care and never let another soul touch. 
His breath fanned over yours, warm and sweet smelling, vanilla and cherry just out of reach for you to taste as you dared to quip back again. “Alright, I’m gonna have to cross reference these lines with other girls you’ve promised to make dizzy, Harrington, cause if that’s the first time you’ve used that, I’m afraid it’s far too smooth…”
Steve’s heart felt like it was trying to claw out of his chest as you laughed, smiling at him when he responded, “And, I think that’s enough out of you.”
Which you couldn’t help but reply back to with, “Yeah? Have some fancy trick to get me to stop talking?”
He laughed, low, muffled and deep in his chest. “A few.”
A sharp inhale slipped past your lips when his nose bumps yours, not realizing how close he’d gotten while you joked back and forth nervously. There wasn’t a protocol on how to let your best show you a proper make out, on how to just dive in and start, you just knew you wanted to. 
Steve’s swallow bobbed his adams apple as the leather beneath you creaked from shifting weight, needing to get closer. And as you did, his eyes found yours, mossy and dark in the low light, the browns and golds washed away in the rain. Their gaze flitted down to your lips, back up to fluttering eyelashes, and then his own eyelids were closing. 
All it took was another breath in, an exhale out, and his lips were on yours. A simple, slow press, holding your top lip between the both of his. Strawberry and vanilla teasing you, and soon he was moving, now bottom lip between his and you got it. Your mouths parted together, lips slotting in a rhythm that came naturally, that clicked. 
Something in your stomach fizzled and crackled like the sparklers you lit every year in his driveway on the fourth as the sigh from his nose hit your cheek. Body warm and sticky in a way that was usually reserved for Summer when his fingers skated over your jaw, up and around your ear, until they were cradling the back of your neck and pulling you closer. His mouth moved with yours in a way that could only be described as frantically graceful - needing more, hurried, hungry, but with the promise and precision of someone who knew what he was doing. It had your stomach dipping, like a freefall, like the greatest and scariest thing you’d ever felt. 
If he’d have opened his eyes, he’d have found you with your hands suspended between your bodies though. Fingers not quite brave enough to reach up and get lost in his hair, but not content to just sit in your lap and do nothing either. 
And if you'd opened your eyes, you’d have found his other hand gripping the center console like he was hanging on for dear life. ‘Cause holy shit was he trying to go slow, but kissing you was like chasing the last few minutes of sunlight in July - sweet and fleeting and magic - something you needed to make last, to soak up every last drop of until you couldn’t any more, not by choice, but because the sun has to set and he has to breathe.
In a shared gasp for air, you parted, but his lips were back on yours immediately, making your stomach swoop even more, like an entire family of butterflies had decided - hey, we live here now and we’re gonna make a ruckus so get used to it.
You didn’t mind. 
Steve’s fingers found yours and without breaking his rhythm, he tugged, guiding them to his shoulders that were practically on your side of the console now, which wasn’t doing something great to his already somersaulting stomach. 
He slowed down as your fingers brushed over and back on the collar of his shirt and his hands cradled both of your cheeks, pulling you off of his lips regretfully. You were both breathing like you’d run a marathon, his forehead pressed to yours as he gasped out, “Dizzy yet?”
“No,” you lied. 
He grinned, tip of his nose tracing the bridge of yours as he admitted, “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you like that.”
You couldn’t even respond, couldn’t tell him you wanted that too, couldn’t tell him that it was something you only dared let a daydream or two convince you it could happen before you were shutting it down, cause he was still talking. 
“And now that I have,” he swallowed, his thumbs glided down opposite sides of your neck as he shook his head, “I’m never stopping.”
Then he was kissing you again, and if you thought he was frantic before…
You had this feeling that even if those other guys had made out with you, kissing them wasn’t and never would be the same as kissing Steve Harrington. 
Soon one of your feet was on the seat, the other bracing yourself in the footwell. He had a hand on your hip and the other on the back of your neck and yours were finally starting to dare to journey past their spot on his shoulders and then your skirt was caught on the gearshift and he was stopping you again. 
“Honey, what are you doing?”
“So was that ‘never stopping’ just a nice sentiment or are you planning to back it up with action?” You huffed, distracted by pink lips that twisted into a crooked smile as he looked at your pretzeled body. 
Your shoulders fell as you nodded your head towards his side of the car and admitted, “I just want to be closer.”
“Oh, right.” Steve swallowed, and you wondered if it’d be weird if you kissed every freckle and mole you could find on his throat. Something told you he wouldn’t mind when he asked, a little more eager than you’d heard tonight, “Backseat?” 
And you clambered out of the car, the slowing rain soothing to heated and flushed skin under the mussed clothes, and then you were both meeting in the backseat, but the nerves returned. The way you both glanced at the space between you and were immediately and acutely aware of the lack of anything between you except doubt and fear. Was this a mistake? What about your friendship?
Steve looked at the space, at you, and then held up his finger in the symbol for one sec as he said, “Hold on,” and half climbed back into the front seat. His torso draped over the console as he loudly opened the glovebox and rummaged around inside, before he was fiddling with the radio, and falling back into the seat. 
His cheeks pink, but his smile wide as he looked at you again. “Hey! I’m so glad we could do this tonight. You look beautiful. Ready to watch your favorite movie?”
“Wh-what?” You laughed, totally and utterly confused. 
He tugged on your fingers, and pulled you to the middle, until you were slouched next to each other, shoulders touching as he shushed and said, “The Breakfast Club is starting.”
And the music playing over the radio,Simple Minds, a cassette he must have put in, had your chest swelling with something that was sure to burst and explode and kill you, because the boy was actually pretending you were on a couch, on a date, in a living room, watching a movie - it was perfectly Steve and you, and the best first date you’d ever been on. 
His left hand picked up yours, resting it on your thigh and played with your fingers. The pads of his traced up and down and over your hand as he stared at the windshield, his temple resting against yours. The music played, and his fingertips swooped between the curves of each finger aimlessly, the sides of his fingers running down yours and back up making it really hard to concentrate on the non-existent flick. 
When you finally relaxed into his side, when you flipped your hand over so he could draw little loop de loops on your palm, he quietly asked, “Who’s your favorite?”
“Brian,” said without hesitation. 
Steve groaned, in pain, “Ugh, you would like him the best.”
You laughed, turning to look up at him a bit from where your head had fallen to his shoulder, “Don’t knock him Steve,” you spoke softly, fondly, “You’re a lot more of a dork like him than you think.”
Steve made a pft noise, fingers now interlaced with yours as he turned his head, the tip of his nose touching yours as he looked down at you with the sort of look the guys give the girls in the movies, one that should be illegal from the way it had that family of butterflies shouting about their presence again and fluttering around. 
“Hey Steve?” 
“Hmm?” He hummed, eyelashes fluttering as he sighed when your thumb brushed over his knuckles.
“This is a really great…first date?” You asked, hopeful that it wasn’t just an offer, that you weren’t some game, that the guy next to you was just as crazy about you as you were him. 
“Yeah?” He smiled, proud, and then bragged, “Wait till the second one.”
It was your turn to hum, to look into his eyes and get a little lost as his mouth parted and you both scooted closer, waiting, as he squeezed your fingers wrapped around his. 
“You’re making the ‘I’m about to kiss you face’ again, Steve,” you whispered, lips brushing his as you did.
“Right,” he whispered back, bottom lip catching yours as he suggested, “Which means you should probably stop talking again.”
This kiss wasn’t as easy and smooth, made difficult by grins of fools who were totally in love but wouldn’t admit it just yet, but how could you both not be after years together?
But you smoothed it out quickly, and soon he was swiping his tongue over your bottom lip as his hand gripped at your waist a little tightly. He traced over your top lip as your entire body turned towards his, like a plant in search of sunlight, his body on yours fundamental to your survival.
He gasped as you straddled him, your mouth swallowing the sound as his hands roamed up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with it so his fingers could scrape at the skin just under your ribs before they dared to drift along the band of your bra.  
You let out a sound that he’d never forget as long as he lived when you finally lowered yourself, skirt fanning over your laps so the sinful way he pressed up against your pristine soaked Calvin’s was slightly hidden. The unclip of your bra and the removal and toss over the seat was fluid, and you couldn’t think about it because the way his hand on your chest felt, the thumb over a pebbled nipple was something you’d only let yourself think about in moments of need before a date that wasn’t him. 
Steve was wrong, the build up was more than half the fun.
The way his hands buzzed against your spine like the air after fireworks, the way his tongue brushed yours, the way he couldn’t help but guide your hips to rock against him. Denim hitting cotton in the exact right spot so the nerves underneath it got the friction they were aching for, while your mind ran away from you, thoughts about how this was just getting started. How there was more. 
His lips left yours and his smile pressed to your jaw when the action got a soft whimper to fall from you. He tutted into your neck, lips grazing over an erratic pulse as he whispered, “Can I touch you?”
“Is that,” your breath hitched around the words as his tongue licked a thick stripe over your neck that extended, “Is that a part of making me dizzy or the more, when I’m sufficiently so?”
“You’re not yet?” His teeth scraped at where his tongue had just been. “I like when you say words like sufficiently, ‘s’hot.”
You laughed as his lips kissed the same spot, and then he was sucking, skin beneath his tongue warm and sending a message to your brain that you liked that a lot. 
“Yeah,” you hiccuped, eyelids fluttering in their view of the car’s roof as you arched and his hands gripped your hips, “Yeah, touch me.”
He didn’t have to be told twice, arm around your waist holding you steady while the other traveled under the hem of your skirt. His mouth moved to below your ear and as his fingers glided up your thigh. He sucked and kissed, and sent that message to your brain again, having you say his name and god’s in the same desperate sentence. 
Steve wasn’t gonna last much longer. 
Especially when his fingers met the wet cotton and you moaned, so much filthier than he’d have thought possible. Especially when he circled over your clit through the fabric and you rolled your hips with the movement, far dirtier than he thought you were capable of. 
“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.” He mouthed at the collar of your rucked up shirt, looking down at the way your hips rolled over his but he couldn’t quite see what was underneath. 
You hid in the crook of his neck, hot, and you didn’t know if it was because the windows were fogged and Steve was so fucking good at this or because you were embarassed by how turned on you were from his next words. 
“Please, I gotta,” he slipped a finger under the fabric and you shuddered as it ran down your slick and back up, “I gotta taste you. I need to put my mouth on you. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”
You were on your back, Calvin’s in a ball on the front seat, with Steve crouched between your thighs not even a minute later. 
Thick fingers toyed with the hem of your skirt from his spot, blown out pupils taking over his stare up at you. One of your converse pushed to the other side of the car against the door as your fingers curled around the base of the sweating window above you. 
Steve kissed your knee, and made his way higher between your legs slowly, until he was flipping your skirt up and swallowing as he stared at the space like it was a fucking artwork. 
You giggled, nervously under the intense awestruck stare, squeezing your eyes shut as he strained to get out, “Fuck, honey, you’re trying to kill me.”
He was mesmerized, the way you clenched around nothing, his thumbs spreading you so he could see just how wet you were for him. 
He was really not gonna last much longer. Straining in his jeans painfully like a teenager. 
And that was before you whimpered, before you said:
“Steve, please.”
“Only,” he swallowed, leaning down so his breath hit your cunt in a way that had your hips wiggling, and him closing his eyes, “Only cause you asked so nicely.”
His thumbs held you open, massaging the sides as his tongue licked once, slow and broad, following the path of his nose up to your clit. He did it again, and again, and again. Until his fingers were slipping inside of you, pumping in and out of walls that held him tightly and his mouth sucked at your clit. Then you tugged, forcefully at the curls at the back of his head and practically screamed his name. Like it was full of only the best letters. Like it was yours. 
Your stomach burned, the butterflies angry and in your chest now too, on fire, but happy about it. Steve’s fingers inside of you and mouth on your clit better than any orgasm you’d ever had, and you couldn’t help it when you came without warning, toes curling inside of your converse that kicked at the door and his thigh, while your fingers slipped on the window and your chest ached for a breath as it yelled his name in a way that the whole world would have to know how you felt when they heard it. 
He didn’t pull away until you were gasping and your thighs were shaking and your fingers loosened in his hair. His cheek pressed to your thigh as he stared up at you and gasped out a proud, smug, “I’d like to see Bender of Brian do that.”
You laughed, tired, but happy, and he crawled up your body, kissing any part of it he could find while he ignored the uncomfortable wet patch in the front of his Levi’s. 
Except you noticed and raised your eyebrows at it, a little smug yourself as you said, “Bet Claire couldn’t do that.”
Steve rolled his eyes, but then you were both flinching as a loud smack of something hit the back window. He glanced up and cursed under his breath, rolling down the window slightly as he called out from on top of you, “Hey, Hop.”
There was a loud, deep, sigh from outside as you both sat up with apologetic faces and Steve rolled down the window further. 
Hopper’s cigarette smoke wafted in as he looked at the pair of you with a touch of surprise when he saw it was you next to Steve in the fogged up beemer. He shook his head, frown under the mustache forced.  “It’s past eleven. On a weeknight. Have some decency and do this at home in front of a movie like normal people next time, yeah?”
You both nodded, your teeth pulling at your lip in a terrible attempt at not smiling. 
He walked away, and you and Steve slapped hands over each other’s laughs and snorts, but you still managed to catch the quiet, “Bout damn time.” 
And when Steve dropped you off at home, with a kiss to seal it all and a promise of a real date tomorrow that he’d pick you up for, you shoved the bunched up Calvin’s in his front pocket with your own promise, whispering in his ear the words “Sincerely, yours” before you left him with his mouth open on the front steps, watching you walk away. 
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hellfirenacht · 1 month
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Candygram
Summary: It's Valentine's day and you shoot your shot with Eddie by sending him a Candygram.
Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, fluff, sfw
4.8k Words Master List
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“Just do it.”  Robin said, following your line of sight to the booth in the corner of the Hawkins cafeteria. It was a simple table with a red cloth thrown over it and a handmade banner that read ‘CANDYGRAMS $1’ and was decorated with tacky hearts. 
Every time you glanced over at the booth, your heart would start pounding and your stomach would twist in knots. You had never considered yourself to be shy before, when you first moved to Hawkins a few years ago, Robin had joked that you didn’t need a welcome wagon because you had thrown yourself into band and had introduced yourself to everyone with ease. 
You had masked your anxiety over being the new kid with an overinflated sense of confidence and it had worked out really well for you until you caught feelings for the freak who sat next to you in remedial science. 
“I think... I would rather chug formaldehyde.” you said slowly, staring so hard at the offensively pink and red booth that Robin was sure it was going to catch flames. 
“Either go up there and buy a candygram or I’m going to do it for you.” Robin said. “If I have to hear you waffle about this for one more day I’m gonna rip my hair out.” 
“But if I send him one, then he might actually acknowledge me and realize I might have something resembling a feeling for him, and that’s just not really cool, you know? Goes against my chill and mysterious personality.” you said, leaning back on your chair with a cocky grin. 
“Last night I saw you and Steve cry over Bambi.” Robin deadpans. 
“Okay, so we were drunk and also shut up.” you snorted, rubbing your face. 
“How are you going to know if there’s anything there if you don’t even take the chance?” Robin scolds. “Come one, I’ve seen the way you look at him. I’m surprised the whole school doesn’t know-”
“Again, cool and mysterious personality.” you tried again. 
“Plus I know he’s just as weird as you.” Robin continued, ignoring you. “I mean, last week I saw him get Jason Carver to back off one of the freshmen by pretending to exercise a demon out of him!”
You stared at Robin for a beat before thunking your head on the lunch table. “I’m going to marry him. Holy shit, he actually tried to expel the demon lurking in Carver?” You were laughing at the thought. 
During your first senior year and his second, Eddie Munson had caught your eye when you had the same lunch period. He was loud and energetic and so fucking weird you couldn’t help but to be drawn to him. Had your parents not forced you to stick with band, you would have considered joining Hellfire. Unfortunately even with this last go-round as a super senior, they still made you stick with it despite your senioritis reaching terminal levels.
You never had a good opportunity to talk to him, and the more time passed the harder it became to justify just randomly approaching him. This semester you finally had your opportunity when you’d been put in the same class and sitting next to each other no less. Still, the most you’d been able to say was “yeah, sure” when he’d asked you for a pencil once. 
Four weeks sitting next to Eddie, and you had barely spoken to him while noticing every little thing about him. He read a lot in class when he could get away with it, and doodled in his notebooks constantly, especially dice and dragons seemed to be the biggest theme. His school notebook wasn’t nearly as filled in as his Hellfire notebook, and he was always fidgeting in class. He also didn’t talk much, and at least once a week he’d end up falling asleep in class with his head in his hand. 
“There’s not gonna be a wedding if you can’t even talk to the guy.” Robin said. “He’s not even scary! Dustin comes in to talk to Steve all the time about Hellfire. He’s just a dork.”
“I know and that’s the problem.” your voice was a strangled laugh mixed with a groan. 
“You showed up the first day of band and introduced yourself to everyone, even if they weren’t in your section. What is the hold up with you talking to Eddie?” Robin pried. 
“Because back then, it didn’t matter.” You looked over at Robin, poking at your mystery meat. “When I first got here it didn’t matter if anyone liked me or not. I was only supposed to be in this school for a few months and then graduate. Then I didn’t. I could handle it if someone didn’t like me. None of you were really supposed to matter to me. No offense.”
Thankfully, Robin didn’t seem offended. “You were just making nice with the inmates until parole.” she joked and you nodded. 
“Yup, and then when I realized that I was going to have to actually have a full other year of school, that meant that I was going to have to care if I was ever gonna graduate.” You continued. “Luckily you saw through all my bullshit bravado and started dragging me to movie nights with you and Steve.” 
“Yeah yeah, we love friendship. So what does any of this have to do with Eddie?” Robin said, not needing you to explain the backstory that she had been present for. 
“It means that with Mr. Munson, I unfortunately, care so fucking much what he thinks of me.” you relented. “He’s the biggest freak in school, and the dorkiest loser, and if I try and talk to him and he’s not interested in talking back I won’t be able to take it. Robin, I will simply lay down and be dead for the rest of my life.”
“That’s not how that works, you can’t be dead for the rest of your life.” She shook her head, her brows furrowed. “Because if you’re dead then... you’re not alive”
“Schrodinger's corpse then. Alive and dead at the same time.” 
“Look, just send him the stupid candygram. The worst he can do is say no.” She stood up from the table and grabbed your hand. “Let’s go.”
And that’s how you ended up at the booth, jotting down Eddie’s name on a piece of paper and shoving a few quarters in the till with Robin looking smug. “I doubt he’s ever gotten one anyway, if anything he should be thrilled that someone wanted to send him one.”
“If this kills me, Steve’s in charge of the music at my funeral.” you sighed. 
---
Candygrams were being handed out and delivered through the week. You weren’t paying attention to what period they were supposed to be handed out, and so when two students in obnoxious heart shirts and fake wings burst into your science class with Eddie right next to you, you were about ready to throw yourself out a window. 
No one was surprised when Janet and Charlie were tossed a few candygrams, but everyone’s head whipped around when the red heart shaped lollipop and card was set on Eddie Munson’s desk. Eddie himself seemed more surprised than anyone. 
He had the lollipop in his mouth before he even opened the note attached and you were seconds away from bolting out the door. With any luck, maybe he didn’t know your name even after weeks of sitting next to each other. 
“Who’s it from, freak?” asked Patrick, the basketball jock who sat a few rows ahead. That earned a few snickers from the class. 
“It’s from your mom.” Eddie said without missing a beat and taking out the lollipop. “Tell her I say thanks.”
More laughter from the class as Patrick stood up as if ready to fight, but the teacher quickly told him to sit down. 
Shit, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You felt a bit guilty that your candygram had kicked up a fuss, but at least Eddie didn’t out you as the person who sent it to him. In fact he wasn’t looking over at you at all. 
You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he flipped the card around, as if looking for something. All that was written was his name and “YOU’RE SWEET!” written in cheesy font and his name scribbled in your handwriting. 
And nothing else. 
You didn’t know if you should laugh or cry at your stupidity. You’d been so jumbled and nervous that you’d forgotten to sign the damn thing. Robin was gonna have a field day with this one. 
Eddie kept fidgeting with the card through the rest of class, twisting it and bending it until it was as crumpled and torn as your heart felt. He shoved it in his pocket and didn’t even glance at you as the bell rang and he stood up and tossed the eaten lollipop stick in the trash. 
It’s not personal. You told yourself. He has no idea who sent it to him.
That’s when you had a horrible idea, so stupid it might actually work. 
---
“Explain how this is going to work again?” Robin asked. “You’re going to keep sending him lollipops this week until he notices you?” 
“Sort of.” you said, buying another candygram. “I’ll just send him a few joke ones as a feeler and if he responds positively I’ll come clean. If not, I keep my dignity. It’s a win-win.”
“Since when do you care about your dignity?” Robin sorted. 
“Since I caught feelings for the least dignified guy in school, I guess.” You knew it was stupid, you knew it was ridiculous, but you already messed up once so you might as well lean into it. You scribbled his name down, this time signing it with a satisfied giggle. “This is so dumb.”
Oh, but it was so worth it. You had bought it before school started, guaranteeing that it’d be delivered the same day, handing over a crisp dollar to Nancy Wheeler who had volunteered for the booth. If Eddie had been surprised the first time, he looked almost shocked now.
Eddie, sorry I forgot to sign the first one! This card said, once again not giving away any sign of who it was actually from. You saw his eye sparkle in amusement as he ate his lollipop, and this time the card was read over a few times before being carefully tucked into his dungeon master notebook. 
By the third day, the novelty of Eddie Munson getting candygrams had worn off with the rest of your class, but Eddie’s grin only grew wider each time. 
“Anything for me, Cupid?” Eddie asked as the student council members walked back in to hand out more lollipops. 
He whooped as another one was dropped on his desk and he snatched up the card quickly and you had to cover your face and bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling at his excitement. 
Eddie, sorry I’m so bad at remembering to sign these things! I just get way too excited about sending them out that I lose focus. So anyway this card is actually from-
You had carefully spaced out your writing on the small rectangle of paper so that it left absolutely no room for you to sign your name. Eddie looked downright giddy as he read the note over and over. Seeing him so happy made your stomach burst into butterflies and even if he decided after this he wasn’t interested, this was enough. Knowing that he was smiling because of you was enough. 
Someone said your name and you looked up, surprised to see one of the student council members standing next to you and handing you a candygram. Your eyebrows shot up as you took it with a thanks and opened up the card. 
Who had sent one to you? You’d been so wrapped up in your little scheme you didn’t even consider that someone would try and send you one either. 
A smile tugged at your lips as you saw your name and a small drawing of what looked like an egg in a nest as the sender. Robin, of course. Probably making fun of you for sending candygrams to Eddie without signing either. 
You tucked the candygram in your own notebook safely and dared a glance over at Eddie again. You hadn’t expected for him to be looking back at you, and your heart jumped in your chest. He unwrapped his lollipop and lifted it slightly as if he was trying to toast. You held yours up as well to him, an off sense of camaraderie between two people who had their day temporarily disturbed for commercialized love. 
Thursday came around, Valentine's day proper, but they’d be doing one last day of candygrams on Friday as well. This was a fundraiser after all, and capitalism trumps any semblance of real sincerity. Well, you said that but that wasn’t exactly going to stop you from continuing your little plan. 
Today was the day you were going to pull out the big guns. You handed over a full $5 to have a carnation sent to Eddie, as well as a return to sender card to Robin for being a good friend. 
“Shouldn’t he be the one sending you a flower?” Nancy asked, handing you the card to write on. You wondered how Nancy had time for all of the extracurricular activities she had going on, working with the student council and the school newspaper. 
You just shrugged at the question, not realizing how wide you were smiling or how obviously warm your cheeks were. To anyone with two eyes, you were glowing and to anyone with one eye, you were phosphorescent. 
The disinterest that your classmates had from the last two rounds perked back up with a flower was delivered to Eddie that afternoon. 
“For little old me?” Eddie said, batting his eyelashes at the delivery boy as he took the carnation. You giggled to yourself as he opened the card again. 
Man, I’m bad at this aren’t I? Don’t worry, this time I’m writing very small so I have room to sign this card. Seeing you light up when these get delivered has made my whole week, and totally worth it. Anyway this is from- 
To be fair, you had actually signed your name this time. However this time you had made an attempt to erase it with one of those erasers. The horrible stiff ones that only made big smudges and made the mistake worse and nearly tore through the paper. You had carefully looked at your smudged signature for a long time before deciding it was illegible enough to send. 
Eddie faked a swoon in his seat, nearly toppling over onto the floor. “Come on!” he laughed, pushing himself back upright, smiling with his whole face. He looked over the note again, something clicking in his brain and you quickly looked down at the book you were currently pretending to read. 
“It’s someone in here.” you heard him mutter to himself and your heart started pounding in your chest. You focused on your breathing to try and stop yourself from giggling and giving yourself away. 
“Stop sending yourself stuff, Munson. It’s pathetic.” Patrick called out. 
“If you wanted me to be your Valentine, sweetheart, all you had to do was ask nicely.” Eddie said, but he sounded distracted as his eyes scanned the room for any hint of who this mysterious person is. “And next time, I’m more than happy with just the lollipop, it’s saving me on smokes.”
You didn’t even notice the lollipop on your desk until class had started back up. Unfolding the card you smiled to yourself, seeing that it was from Robin again. This time the egg in the nest had a crack in it and seemed to be hatching. You’d ask her about it later. 
Nothing said during the rest of class even registered with you, every word was in one ear and out the other. This had been a fun week sending Eddie all the lollipops and flowers but tomorrow was the last day to have something sent to him. 
Were you going to sign your name? That’s the million dollar question. You had told Robin that you would if Eddie seemed interested, and he had made it clear he was enjoying the attention. 
But would he still enjoy the attention if he learned it was from you? You two weren’t exactly friends, but not complete strangers either. He didn’t seem to dislike you, after all he’d raised a toast with you with your lollipops the other day. 
Well, if you were gonna put yourself out there, you were gonna do it on your own terms.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Robin said that Friday morning as you dropped a handful of ones on the table for one last hurrah. 
“Nope, I’ve committed.” you said, taking the small stack of cards and getting to work. 
“I’m going to have you committed.” Robin shook her head. “I mean, this is actually insane, you know that right? There’s no reason to go through all this trouble, when you could just talk to him.”
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that, Buckley?” you asked, as you added one letter of your name to each of the cards. “Gotta make him work for it.”
“So you’re gonna give him a Valentine's themed word jumble as your big sign off?” 
“Yup.” you confirmed, adding his name to each of the cards. He’d get them all in one go and then it’s up to him to unscramble your name and figure it out. 
After that... well, the ball is in his court. 
Besides, if he liked the lollipops enough that he’d reach for one instead of a cigarette then that’s good enough. 
“You’re such a weirdo. You deserve each other.” Robin went on. “The Weirdo and the Freak. It’s like Beauty and the Beast except.. Not.”
“Robin, don’t you know three languages?” you snorted finishing up your stack and handing them over to be sent. “You are so much smarter than me, but this is where you lose words?”
“It’s Friday and I haven’t had coffee.” she pointed out. “Oh, thanks for sending me one by the way.”
“Yeah, of course. I mean you sent me one so I wasn’t gonna leave you hanging.” you nudged her playfully. 
“I didn’t send you one.” Robin looked at you, confused. 
“What?” You reached into your backpack and pulled out the notebook where you had placed the card and handed it to her. “But that’s a robin’s egg...?”
“It’s an egg, probably.” Robin agreed. “But I’m broke. I didn’t send any out.” 
You stared at the card with new eyes. If she didn’t send it, then who did?
---
“Holy shit.” Eddie muttered as a bag of lollipops was dumped on his desk with no rhyme or reason, earning a round of laughter and snickers from the class. The teacher had long since given up on trying to keep the class’s attention when the Cupid’s showed up. 
He sorted through the cards, a puzzled expression on his face as he looked at the different letters on the cards until he found one that had real words on it. 
Figure it out, Sucker <3 Eddie’s face was a wonderful mixture of amusement, bewilderment, and mild offense. 
One of the Cupid’s handed you another two lollipops as well. One was actually signed by one of your friends in band, and the other had another doodle of an egg. This time the egg was completely hatched and there was some sort of weird bird flying off. 
Not a robin. You decided, trying to figure out what it was supposed to be. 
You barely paid attention in class for the rest of the hour, your attention split between the three egg Valentines you received and the man next to you. Eddie had pulled out his Dungeon Master notebook to try and decode your message. You felt flattered that he was using his favored notebook to try and figure out your puzzle. 
Eddie was sucking on one of the lollipops diligently as he scribbled down random letters. Now that you thought about it, you’d never seen him look so studious in class before. You wondered if this is what he looked like when he was working on his campaigns and your brain decided to give you a treat of a daydream where the two of you were sitting around in your room while he explained his campaign and how he’d love to have someone like you join Hellfire-
It was three minutes before the bell, and that meant just a few minutes until your last period and the weekend. With Valentine’s day falling in the middle of the week, most of your friends were going to be off doing things with their partners. Maybe you, Robin, and Steve- no wait, Steve actually got dates. Robin worked on the weekend. 
Maybe Eddie- NOPE. Not going there, you were not about to get your hopes up for this. 
You glanced over at him again, looking at his notebook to see if he was anywhere close to decoding your name. Eddie had the worst handwriting you’d ever seen and so you would be surprised if he could even figure out his own notes. Between unjumbling your letters, he had started doodling in the margins. You assumed that they were D&D monsters from the look of it, since none of them looked like actual animals except for the bats in the corner. 
The only other thing you recognized was a dragon, drawn in a larger scale on the side of the page. It’s wings were expanded and it was flying off, and from this angle it looked like a weird...
It looked like some bird
Some sort of weird bird
Your head snapped back down to the card in front of you. This wasn’t a weird bird. It was a dragon. A dragon hatching from an egg. An egg that hatched a dragon. A dragon that was drawn with the same pose as the one in Eddie’s notebook. Eddie’s notebook had your dragon no wait, your card had his dragon-
Eddie Munson had sent you the cards. 
Eddie had-
“Oh.” You said out loud. You were nearly fighting back hysterical laughter at this, and you pressed your hands against your face, with your shoulder shaking with repressed laughter. 
Why the hell had Eddie sent you those cards? The two of you had barely spoken to each other!
 You did the same damn thing, dipshit. You reminded yourself. In fact you had gone way harder than he had. But what did this MEAN? 
The bell rang and everyone scrambled to get out of the classroom, and before you could say anything, Eddie was off and running out of the classroom at the speed of light. 
What was that about?
Robin was right. If you were ever going to have a chance with him, you were going to suck it up and talk to him, even if it meant possibly embarrassing yourself. Plus, finding out why he sent you three candygrams was currently trumping any fear of rejection. Curiosity killed the cat, but at least he died satisfied. You’re pretty sure how that saying went at least. 
You knew that Eddie had Hellfire today, it was Friday and he and all of his friends had been running around in their club shirts. With a deep breath you...realized you had no idea where the hell they actually met. 
This whole thing could have been planned better, actually. 
You started walking around the school blindly for any sign of the signature baseball tee that they all wore. If you found one of them, they were sure to lead you to Eddie. God, you felt like a stalker. 
There. Long dark curls against a stark white shirt with black sleeves. Your heart leapt in your chest, and you had to make the choice now. 
“E... Eddie! Wait up!” you called out, walking quickly towards him. 
When he turned around to look at you, you felt the air disappear from your lungs. How was it possible for him to be so beautiful and why the fuck did no one in this school seem to notice? 
Eddie pulled the lollipop he’d been sucking on out of his mouth, surprised to see you. 
“Hey.” he said. “Uh... you sit next to me in class.” 
He was either playing dumb, or you were about to make an ass of yourself. But, like Robin asked, since when do you care about dignity?
You reached into your bag and pulled out the candygrams that had been sent to you and holding them out. 
To your relief he gave you a bashful smile. “Guess you caught me, huh?” he asked. “You solved my Valentine’s puzzle.” 
“I have a pretty high intelligence when I apply myself.” you said, which only made him grin wide. “But I gotta say, Munson. I’m actually a little disappointed. I mean, sadistic and scary dungeon master of the Hellfire club, and this is the best puzzle you could come up with?”
He crossed his arms and took a step towards you. “Well, I don’t know you as well as I’d like.” he said, and your stomach erupted into butterflies. “Had to start somewhere.” 
“I guess I had to be sneaky and pay attention to you to figure it out. You’re hard not to notice, you know.” you admitted, crossing your arms as well to mimic him. 
“Being The Freak means I fail most stealth checks.” he shrugged. 
“High charisma though.” you threw out there, hoping that line would land and to your delight it did.
“It’s the Munson Magic. I come by it naturally.” Eddie’s smile was so wide it was cheesy but shit, it was working on you. 
“Not great intelligence though.” you smirked at him. 
“Oh? And how do you figure that?” He looked a little offended now, and you saw his shoulder stiffen as if he was waiting for this to suddenly go south. 
“Spell my name, Eddie.” 
You could see the lightbulb go off in his mind and his eyes widened. 
“You- wait, you were the one who kept sending me the cards?” Eddie looked nothing short of bewildered and ecstatic. You had a feeling that if things went well, you wouldn’t have to worry about ever knowing what he was thinking as he wore every emotion on his sleeve. 
“Surprise?” you asked, playing with the strap of your backpack. 
Eddie licked his lips, chasing the last of the flavor of the sucker he’d been eating. He looked at you, as if searching for something, and you cut in before he had the chance to find it. 
“Do you want to hang out sometime?” you asked, a little louder than you meant to. “Like, just us.”
“Do you think you can handle a date with The Freak?” Eddie asked, standing a little straighter. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, and I promise the worst of them are true.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Eddie, I’ve always wanted to join Hellfire.” you smirked. “I’m sure there are worse things for a first date than sacrificing someone to Satan, or summoning demons, or joining a cult.”
“I’m a gentleman, I would never ask a lady to summon demons on the first date. That’s at least a third date activity.” Eddie held his hand to his heart and raised a hand as if making an oath. 
Oh yeah, you were going to marry him. You were already picturing proposing to him and taking him away from this town. 
“Then how about dinner at Benny’s?” you suggested. “Burgers and shakes on me and you can tell me more about Hellfire and dragons and I can give you a spelling lesson.”
Eddie ran his ringed fingers through his hair and you giggled as the rings got snagged and he struggled to untangle them. 
“It’s.. a date then.” he said, but it came out as more of a question, as if he was asking if this was really happening. 
“A date.” You agreed, handing him your number, having come prepared. 
As you began to walk away, he called out after you. 
“Wait! You said you wanted to check out Hellfire, right?” Eddie said and you turned to look at him. “I’m... I’m actually running a one shot tonight. Kind of beginner friendly enough. I don’t often do this in the middle of the semester but one of our usuals dropped out because he had a date so... we have an open seat at the table. If you think you can handle it.”
Your smile widened as you walked over to him. “I think I’ll take you up on that.”
Eddie offered his arm to you, as if he were a gentleman which you took eagerly. 
“So... how do you actually spell your name?” 
---
Dear Reader, I hope you have the easiest name to spell because that would make this fic at least 3% funnier. Also, I'm proud I got this done before Valentine's day because I never even finished my Halloween or Christmas fic. Be proud of me.
Please reblog if you enjoyed it <3
Tag List: @gagasbee, @ihaventgotaclue-really @tastefullyferal @anonymouskiwi @hellfiredarling
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Note
Am I the asshole for getting my best friend killed?
I swear to God, it was an accident.
My (27) BF (34) has a reputation for getting himself out of any jam you can imagine; and at first it was just a fun little thing the friend group noticed: there goes Oily J wiggling his way out of trouble again. but as the meme evolved in the group, it got to the point where we'd loykey started getting him into situations just to see how he'd get out of 'em, and he akept getting out of em. He was having fun with it too same as us. "Oh you guys," he'd say, "getting me into situations again," before laughing it off and getting out of it, so it was enrichment for our shared enclosures, and as time went on, the situations got more intense.
The trouble is, it turns out that putting a man in too many situations eventually gets the police interested. And not local hobsknockers cops either; they was like, proper three-letter FEDs. They put out a bounty on any information pertaining to his capture and everything. It was good money too so I thought, hey why don't I put J in another situation he can wiggle out of like always (and he'd wiggled outta worse before, so I thought this one'd be relatively mild), and at the next boardgame night (cause it was too late to do anything special for this one) we can buy some extra strong booze and get absolutely blitzed while having a giggle about the situation.
Boardgame night, and we were playing some social deduction nonsense or another and he says: "One of you is gonna betray me tonight." and I can't help but think, looking back on it, that he knew. It's stupid, I know he was talking about the game, but the way he said it, it was like he knew. We all felt it, and we had a big round robin round the table taking turns promising that we'd never betray him. And I said it so easily cause I thought it was true. Sure, I was gonna talk to the feds about a bounty; but, I fully expected my big beautiful oily boy to wiggle his way out of the trouble I was 'bout to cause, and that's not a betrayal. I wasn't lying. I didn't think I was lying.
My big beautiful oily boy didn't manage to wiggle his way out of it. They killed him and I got my blood money. He's gone.
He's gone and I'm devastated, crying, mourning. I loved him so much. We all did. And I can't stop thinking that it's my fault: that I'm the reason he's gone. and it is. and the guilt is eating me up inside. and I just need to talk to someone about it. So, I tell the rest of the group what happened in the group chat, hoping they'd understand that I didn't want this. I didn't want the government's blood money. It was supposed the be a prank. some joint enclosure enrichment. He was supposed to wiggle out of it like he always does... did, i mean.
They call me, among worse things, the asshole and kick me from the group chat. And, I know it's my fault he's dead: I know that. If I didn't do what I did, he wouldn't be dead right now. But, I didn't mean it for it to end up this way. He was supposed to be okay, damn it. I loved him. AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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french-goodbye · 7 months
Text
please never fall in love again
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pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: dating steve harrington is hard, especially when girls keep hitting on him.
notes: i wrote this a while ago but eventually forgot about it in the midst of all my wips lol. title from the song please never fall in love again by ollie mn.
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you stare at the back of your boyfriend's head with narrowed eyes and your chin resting on your hands, an anger you know you shouldn't be feeling boiling beneath the surface of your skin. he, of course is none the wiser, as he is to most things, just chatting with eddie completely carefree by the bar.
you love steve harrigton, you really do. you think you fell in love with him on your first date and never really fell out of it. you've already planned your whole life with him, from getting married and having kids to growing old with him and sitting side by side on a wrap around porch. he's sweet, kind, he's great with kids and it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes and great in bed.
his biggest flaw, however, is not exactly his fault. the worst thing about dating steve harrigton is the amount of women who hit on him on a daily basis. whether it's old ladies at the grocery store telling him he looks like their dead husbands or bored soccer moms looking for a little thrill or, the worst of all, the girls your age who slip him their phone number in old receipts over the counter at family video. these women are always there, like blood sniffing sharks, somehow finding a way to make a suggestive comment or a flirty joke.
most of the time, it doesn't really bother you even when it does happen in front of you. steve's the kind of guy who'd never cheat on you, simply because of who he is and how obsessed with you he is. sometimes, however, they can get a little too close and personal and you can't help but wish steve was a little less attractive. just a little.
and it's not that you don't trust him either, he's always quick and firm to shut them down when it happens. it's that they're the ones you don't trust, the girls with big permed blonde hair and fake tans and bright pink lipstick who look at you disdainfully when they realize you're together because they can barely take their eyes off of him for long enough to notice you're standing right next to him.
you're out at a bar celebrating jonathan's birthday when it happens this time, steve and eddie having offered to get everyone another round, the two of them leaning against the bar talking while they wait when a girl from the booth in the corner approaches them. she's clearly a little bit more than tipsy and obviously focused on steve as she talks to them, avidly taking him in and resting her hand on his forearm. he doesn't even blink, just smoothly leans away from her and tells her something that makes her leave as fast as she arrived.
you can barely hear nancy as she complains about her male coworkers on her summer job, as you heatedly stare at his stupidly nice hair and broad shoulders as your boyfriend laughs at something eddie said, hand scratching his neck. you're still watching him with scrunched eyebrows and a sour expression when you feel robin poking your cheek, making you look at her and gently slap her hand away.
"why are you poking me?"
"why are you staring at steve like he kicked your puppy?" she asks, frowning, looking back and forth between the two of you like a tennis match.
"i'm not" she gives you a flat look with raised brows. "fine," you huff. "why do women always hit on him? we can't take him anywhere"
"no idea, you tell me"
"urgh" you groan, throwing your arms around her and resting your head on her shoulder. "god, i hate men"
"amen sister" you hang onto her for a second as she takes a noisy sip of her empty drink through her straw and taps your back sympathetically a few times before gently pushing you away as steve and eddie walk back to your table, drinks in hands and still chatting distractedly.
she softly claps her hands, enthusiastically and telling you a quiet "yay" as she turns back to nancy and jonathan, as the two argue wether or not their coworkers are sexist (they totally are).
you're still laughing at robin's drunken antics when steve comes to your side again and sets your new drink on the table in front of you, resting his hand on your lower back. you let him but when he leans over you to press a kiss to your hair, you promptly dodge away from him and out of his reach. from the corner of your eye, you can see how he frowns at that and silently watches you for a second as you pretend to listen to what nancy says.
his hand on your lower back climbs all the way up to the back of your neck so he turn your head his away, forcing you to look at his big brown eyes staring at you like you just kicked his puppy and you almost feel guilty. almost.
"what's wrong?" he asks.
you shrug, "nothing's wrong."
"are you mad at me or something?"
"no" you slowly shake your head in negative, shrugging.
"gimme a kiss then" he rests one of his hands on your face tilting your head his way while the other on your neck guides your face to his. you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek and look away, accidentally making eye contact with the girl who just hit on him. she's watching the two of you, quickly looking away when she notices she was caught staring.
"you saw that, huh" he tells you, hands settling on your waist instead so he can look at you.
"hard not to" you huff, picking invisible lint from your pants.
"then you know nothing happened"
"of course i know that, i trust you" you complain as you roll your eyes and gesticulate to show your frustration "but i-it just makes so insanely angry when they touch you like that, like they have any right to-" you stop your ranting mid sentence when you realize the look on his face. "what? why are you looking at me like that?"
"nothing" he clears his throat and looks down to uselessly smooth non existing wrinkles on your top. you watch him though narrowed eyes and gasp when it hits you, making him look at you again. "what?"
"you like it when i'm jealous" you accuse, lightly poking his chest.
"no, i don't"
"yes, you do. i can't believe i never noticed it before" you huff an incredulous laugh, remembering all the times girls hit on him in front of you and he said nothing but affirmations of how much he's in love with you and how he could never want somebody else, acting more attentive and affectionate than usual later, pressing you against his body and kissing kissing kissing you until he was the only thing on your mind.
"okay, it's not what you're thinking" he replies running a hand through his hair nervously.
"what am i thinking, harrington?" you ask, lifting one eyebrow as a smirk makes it's way to your lips.
"it's not an ego thing" you laugh softly at him, letting your fingers run soothingly through the hair at the nape of his neck, finally giving into the temptation to get your hands on him. "it's just- i like knowing how much you want me just for yourself, how much you care about me."
you stare at him for a moment, taking in his sincere brown eyes and his fluffy hair, feeling impossibly endeared by the boy in front of you. he fidgets under your stare, so you smooth your hands down his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt.
"well, i do care... a lot" you tell him, pretending to be coy and batting your eyelashes at him. "but it's not like i blame her"
"what?" he looks at you blankly, confused.
"i mean, look at you" you pull him closer and then closer still, still smirking. "those nice brown eyes, the pretty hair, those shoulders... nevermind how much of a charmer you are. damn harrington, no wonder women keep throwing themselves at you."
"babe" he groans embarrassedly, "they're not throwing themselves-" he dramatically drops his forehead on your shoulder making you laugh at his discomfort, letting brown strands of hair slip through your fingers as you comfortingly pet his hair and he squeezes your waist in reprimand.
"it's true!"
he pulls you closer by the grip he has on your waist and burrows his face in the crook of your neck in lieu of an answer. you let him have it even though you would like to see his face and the way his blush is probably spreading from his cheek to his neck and rest your chin into his shoulder as you hug him.
"but one of these days i'll have to step in and defend your honor"
"please don't" he pulls away and cups your neck, thumbs brushing your cheek and staring at you disapprovingly, his eyelashes touching at the corners, the hint of a smile still on his face.
"i don't know, maybe i'll have to challenge them to a duel to the death" you disagree and look at him from under your eyelashes. he gives you an affectionate look that'd make you nauseous were it not directed at you and presses a long lingering kiss to your lips.
"shut up" he whispers against your lips. you gladly do, at least until eddie and robin start throwing balled up paper napkins at your head. it's worth it though.
3K notes · View notes
loveinhawkins · 11 months
Text
There’s perks to working a summer job where there’s seemingly no manager. Steve got an at most five minute interview with an overly smiley dude who said, “An independent workforce is very important to us,” and didn’t even check his references before telling Steve that he was hired.
So it’s down to him and Robin alone to open and close Scoops Ahoy. And the lack of any boss—not even a supervisor—is mostly great, means that no-one’s hovering over their shoulders droning on about ‘company policy’, means they can take their breaks as and when, and no-one’s tapping their foot with an eye on the clock.
But then there’s the times where it’s absolutely swamped with customers, and the statistical likelihood of having to serve an asshole skyrockets; and most assholes don’t tend to think of teenagers slinging ice-cream as being worthy of even the tiniest shred of respect.
“Are you wilfully this stupid, missy?” a douchebag snaps at Robin during the lunchtime rush, after she added chocolate sauce on his sundae instead of raspberry.
She remakes the order with a look that, if there was any justice in the world, would make him drop down dead on the spot. But instead, he just scoffs when she passes him the new sundae.
“Have a spectacular day,” Robin says acerbically, and if it was any other time, Steve would be ducking down behind the counter, pretending to check on stock levels so he can hide his laughter.
Except Robin’s also doing that thing where she blinks a lot, and Steve knows she’s fighting tears of frustration because he privately does something remarkably similar.
There’s a sinking feeling in his chest coupled with what’s becoming a steadily frequent flare of protectiveness. That one usually comes with the kids and The Upside Down—except Robin is a girl who’s round about his age, so he half-heartedly assumes it must be because he has a crush on her.
But he’s not even thinking about said crush at all when he gently bumps her towards the break room with his hip and says, “Take yours first, I’ve got this.”
For half a second, Robin’s eyes seem to shine in gratitude before she puts a hand over her heart and declares, dripping in sarcasm, “You’re a god among men, Harrington, I never believed what anyone said about you.”
“You’re wel—hey, what did they say about me?”
The door to the break room shuts, but not before he hears Robin let out a genuine snort of laughter. He smiles and pivots back to the register.
The line’s calmed down; Steve recognises a substitute teacher waiting to be served: Mrs Greeves, who’s been at Hawkins High since the sixties, at least. There’s no other adult in the shop, so it’s presumably her little granddaughter who’s running about the place, without so much as a glancing eye on her.
But Steve doesn’t have to worry about a potential lost child scenario, because a guy suddenly slips out of the booth he’d been sitting in, bending down to the kid’s eye level and subtly ensuring that she doesn’t hightail it out of there.
It takes a few seconds for Steve to recognise him; he’s still getting used to the whole phenomenon of seeing people without the high school setting behind them. Like, Robin used to be just a name from a class he can’t even recall, and now he knows her for her dry wit and love of cryptic crosswords.
And this Eddie Munson is sort of a different beast from the guy Steve saw stomping around the cafeteria tables.
He’s dressed pretty much the same, (Hellfire shirt sans the leather jacket must be the ‘summer look’, Steve reckons), but he’s quieter as he chats with the little girl, letting her try on one of his skull rings to distract from her obvious boredom. His grin is softer, too.
Mrs Greeves clears her throat, and Steve promptly puts on his vacant ‘delightful customer service’ smile.
“Afternoon, Mrs Greeves, what can I do you for?”
She orders a simple strawberry cone for the kid, Abigail, and two scoops of lemon and vanilla in a cup for herself—appropriate, Steve thinks, because her face looks like she’s sucking on a lemon half the time.
As he prepares the ice-cream, he’s quickly remembering why she’s on the list of substitute teachers that students dread, even if he’s only had the ‘pleasure’ of being in a class supervised by her once. He has vague memories of how she’d talk with other teachers in a scandalised stage whisper about students from ‘broken homes’—he’s pretty sure she’s still an austere teacher at the Sunday School, too.
“Abigail,” she says sharply, when Steve finishes the cone, and she finally seems to realise her granddaughter isn’t by her side, “what have I told you about—”
“Oh, it’s okay,” Eddie says hurriedly. Abigail hands him the ring back, very carefully dropping it into his palm, and he gives her a gentle smile. “I don’t mind—”
“—not talking to strangers?” Mrs Greeves finishes, as if Eddie hadn’t spoken.
“But,” Eddie says with tiny frown, “you know me, ma’am, I’m—”
“Let me be plain then, Mr Munson.” She finally turns to favour Eddie with a scathing look. “I meant that I don’t want my granddaughter around a corrupting influence.”
There’s an awful silence while Abigail collects the cone.
“Oh,” Eddie says, still crouched down by the booth. He sounds very small.
And Steve’s view of Mrs Greeves quickly turns from a general dislike to an icy hatred.
“And here’s yours,” he says, sliding the cup over.
She looks down. Her mouth goes all pinched in displeasure.
“What’s the meaning of this?”
“It’s your ice-cream,” Steve says, playing up a confused blink. “Is—is this not what you ordered? I’m terribly sorry for the—”
“Don’t be obtuse, Mr Harrington. These scoops are tiny; they barely fill the cup!”
Yup, Steve thinks with a savage satisfaction. They’re the size of a melon ball, and even that’s being generous.
“Mrs Greeves, I’m afraid it’s store policy. Nothing to do with—”
“What kind of policy could possibly justify—”
“Rudeness,” Steve says smoothly.
Eddie’s head jerks up at that, his mouth slightly agape.
“Mr Harrington,” Mrs Greeves says, her face turning puce, “I would like to see your manager.”
“The manager,” Steve says flatly. “Okay, sure. I’ll go get him.”
What he does next, compared to everything else that’s happened in his life thus far, isn’t all that stupid.
Well. Maybe a little.
It’s worth it though, to see the way Eddie Munson’s eyes widen at the sight.
Making sure to have zero expression throughout, Steve mimes walking downstairs, throws off his hat while crouched behind the counter, then re-emerges with a quick ruffle of his hair.
“How can I help you?” he asks, like they’ve only just met.
The cup of minuscule ice-cream is soon up-ended as Mrs Greeves storms out, barking over her shoulder, “Abigail, come here!”
Eddie stands to let the kid out of the way, who seems blissfully ignorant with her cone. Steve’s sure he hears him mutter under his breath, “Jesus, she’s not a dog.”
“I’ll be reporting you, Steve Harrington, make no mistake!”
Yeah, good fucking luck. I sure as hell don’t know who really runs this place.
“Uh-huh,” Steve says. “Looking forward to it. Harrington with two ‘r’s one ‘n’, ma’am.”
“Shit, Harrington,” Eddie drawls. He’s leaning next to the booth, hip cocked, and if it weren’t for the fact that he’d seen it himself, Steve might’ve been convinced that the Eddie from a moment ago was a different person. “That was not worth getting fired over.”
“I’m not getting fired,” Steve says—although honestly, if that had been a real threat, he thinks his actions would probably have been the same. Huh. “I meant it, dude, there’s no manager here.”
Eddie nods slightly, looks up at the Scoops Ahoy sign and grins. “So you and Buckley are the skeleton crew on this ship.”
“Uh, I guess?”
Come on, man, Steve thinks, as Eddie keeps up the wide grin like it’s a shield. This isn’t the high school cafeteria; I’m not about to hit your lunch tray or whatever.
Out loud, he calls into the back, “Hey, Robin, the chocolate’s low. I’m just gonna put in a new batch if you want some of the old stuff.”
The sliding doors open.
Robin sighs as if she’s just had a very relaxing facial, but she’s actually holding a folded newspaper with the cryptic crossword all finished.
“I am so chilled out,” she says, with a delivery that could rival Eddie Munson’s trademark dramatics.
“You’re so weird,” Steve says mildly while making up a cup with the leftover chocolate ice-cream.
“You’ve just got no taste, Harrington.” She waggles the crossword at him. “You should give ‘em a try.”
Steve wrinkles his nose. “I’m no good at that code-breaking stuff.” He passes her the cup, goes to start assembling his own and pauses. “Hey, Munson, you want some?”
“Oh, uh, I’m good,” Eddie says, sounding suddenly wrong-footed. “Sorry, I’m just, uh, killing time before my movie starts. The other stores said if I wasn’t buying anything I should get out, so…”
“So you’ve come to our oceanic sanctum,” Robin deadpans.
Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, just ‘cause you do crosswords doesn’t mean you have to turn into a dictionary. Ow.” He doesn’t quite duck in time to avoid the newspaper smacking him in the face. He turns to address Eddie again, who appears to be fighting back laughter. “What’re you gonna see, Munson?”
Eddie’s eyes glance away for a second. “Something very scary and befitting of my stature, Harrington.”
Robin, who’s made a habit of memorising the mall’s movie schedules, checks her watch and narrows her eyes. “Return to Oz?”
Eddie’s cheeks start to glow. “Fuck off, Buckley, I’ve never liked you.”
“You’re such a liar, I’ve heard your applause at band practice—”
“Okay, but,” Steve cuts in, jumping up onto the counter with one hand. “I thought the whole point was Oz was a dream. How can she return to—?”
“Christ, I don’t know, Harrington,” Eddie says. “I didn’t pick it for critical analysis; the poster had a dude with a pumpkin head on it, and I thought it looked cool.”
“Oh, I saw that,” Robin says. “Made me think of when all those pumpkins went bad. Like, imagine if they had faces.”
Unthinkingly, Steve says around his ice-cream spoon, “No way, I’m not dealing with that, too.”
“Excusez-moi?” Robin says.
“Hmm?” Steve says innocently.
“Hey, you missed quite a show earlier on, Buckley,” Eddie says. “Reckon Harrington deserves a tally in the ‘you rule’ column.”
Steve glares at Robin. “I told you to keep that outta view of the customers.”
“Ah, but I’m not buying anything,” Eddie points out, “ergo, not a customer.”
“Ergo,” Steve mimics.
“That board is strictly for romantic successes,” Robin says.
Eddie snorts. “Aw, that’s hardly fair. I think it should have more… rounded criteria.”
Robin’s eyes narrow again. “Eddie Munson, you’ve never complimented a jock in your life, don’t start now.”
“Hey,” Steve says, overselling a ‘wounded’ expression. “I’m more than that, y’know. I contain multitudes.”
“Sure,” Eddie says, smiling. “Folks, we’ve got Hawkins’s own Whitman right here.”
Steve flips him off and, on a whim, decides to channel his inner Dustin.
“Maybe I just see the world more clearly than you two ‘cause I’m free of societal constraints.”
“You’re working in a mall,” Robin says.
“High school societal contraints. I am unshackled and ergo, free.”
“Damn,” Eddie says, patting down his pockets for an imaginary pen, “I should use that.”
“Stop inflating Harrington’s ego and go catch your totally scary movie,” Robin says.
Eddie checks his own watch. “Oh, shit. Um.” And Steve thinks that it almost looks like he’s reluctant to leave. “Time flies, I guess. Better go ashore.” He catches Steve’s eye, gives a tiny little salute as he leaves. “May your summer continue to be mundane and manager-less.”
“You’re a poet, Munson,” Steve says, even though Eddie’s already out the door.
“So what was the show I missed?” Robin says. “I couldn’t hear anything back there.”
“Nothing that exciting.”
Steve tells her, and even though a smile tugs at her mouth as he re-enacts his mime, for some reason her eyes are kinda sad for most of it.
“Good job, Popeye,” she says thoughtfully—and though it directly contradicts her own words, she marks up a singular ‘you rule’ tally for the rest of her shift before wiping it off.
Eddie doesn’t re-appear after the movie—not that Steve’s keeping track of time, or anything—but at least they don’t have anymore nightmares for customers. As Steve mops, he thinks about how Dustin’s return from Camp Something Something is approaching—and the fact that he’s circled the date with a goofy smiley face is between him and his bedroom calendar.
He smiles to himself while clocking out of the now ghostly mall, recalling Eddie’s parting words.
The thought of a mundane, manager-less summer stretching before him sounds pretty damn good.
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caxde · 3 months
Text
drunken confession | steve harrington x reader
summary you're Dustin's older sister, a night out with you're friends makes you see that here might be more between you and Steve (7.5k)
warnings fem!reader, fluff (a lot), mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, tabacco and anxiety (briefly). and eventual smut (p in v, hj unproteccted) english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 
“So, are you going out tonight?” Dustin asked once again, making you center your attention on him, you stop daydreaming. 
“Um, I dunno. We’ll get some drinks, better if you don't wait up I think.” You answered, looking at him. Your brother always seemed like he had more to say, like there was always a puzzle, or an equation that he had to solve in the back of his mind. 
“You’re gonna have to talk to mom.” He scuffed, almost like a laugh. 
“What? Why?” Your eyebrows scratched as you asked, your shoulders got high, and so did your voice. 
“She’s not letting you the car again if you’re out drinking.” 
“Well, I’m not driving so…” You finished, letting the fork in your plate, the clinking of it ending the conversation briefly. 
It seemed like it was going to be a quiet night anyway. Just you, and your friends, nothing unusual. Though you still didn’t know if you’d be drinking in someone’s house or out out. 
Because those are two very different things. 
If you were in someone’s house, you’d be calm, the lights won’t annoy you, the music won’t be too loud, and there won’t be too many people. 
And you’d promised yourself that even if that happened, you weren’t going to overreact, because these things are normal, and it is okay. You're safe, in someone's house, and out in a club or bar. 
Thankfully the bar was still empty when you arrived. 
And the first round of beers went down pretty quickly. 
So did the second one. 
Nancy was excited. You could tell she was really happy, finally having received her acceptance letter to the college of her dreams. She couldn’t stop blushing every time somebody new walked into the bar and said congratulations. 
Robin was as chatty as ever, as she normally was to be honest. You’d found out that Robin gets excited over other peoples’ excitement, and you often thought to yourself what a good cheerleader she would make if she wasn’t as clumsy as she is. 
Eddie was quiet. It wasn’t unusual, not this early in the evening. He always gets more comfortable once he gets used to the people that are wherever you guys end up, and once he realises that nobody looks at him like he’s a freak anymore, in fact, since Corroded Coffin was gaining a bit of a reputation people tried to get close to him, talk to him. He’d never say it, but he loved it. 
And, Steve. 
Well, he was just electric. Something happened whenever you two were in the same place. He’ll participate in whatever conversation is going on at the table, but for a moment, however brief, he’d look at you, and you swear time would stop. 
You didn’t know why that happened, you just enjoyed it. 
And it was happening right now, as you were finishing your second beer, and he was already asking for the third round, his hand up with the empty bottle, once the barman saw Steve, he putted five fingers up, Steve nodded. 
And as it always happened after two beers, you needed to go out, get some air and smoke. And as always, Eddie walked out with you. 
“You doing okay Henderson?” Eddie muttered as he offered you his lighter, smoke already escaping his lips as he talked. 
“Yeah, just thinking.” You answered quickly, just before lighting the camel you had in your pocket. 
“You need to stop doing all that thinking.” He laughed, trying -with no success- to make you at least chuckle. “You wanna talk about it?” 
“I think you already know if I’m being honest.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, pleading that he won’t make you actually say it. 
“For what it’s worth, I think he’s just as much in his head as you are.” He admitted, as he took one long drag of his cigarette, almost gone now. 
“You’re only saying that because you’re my friend.” You brush it off, not really ready to believe that he might be right, not wanting to believe him, in case he was actually right. 
“And I’m also his friend.” He added, looking into your eyes, a soft smile in his face, and something else that you can’t recognise now. “And honestly, you two… something’s going on, it’s not hard to see it.” 
“Nothing has happened. Nothing can anyway.” You add, as you throw your cigarette to the floor, stomping on it so it’s definitely put out. 
“Why would you say that?” Eddie asks, his eyebrows raised, curiosity filling his voice. 
“Because he still likes Nancy.” 
-
Everyone had paid for one round. And you were now debating if you should go home or stay for a little longer. 
Nancy wanted to leave, and so did Robin. 
Eddie didn’t mind.
Steve wanted to stay. 
And you weren’t sure why but so did you. 
So, the table only had three new beers now, and a louder conversation. 
The bar had filled up, and the music was louder now. So of course you needed to scream a bit to hear each other. Again you weren’t really talking about anything important, just enjoying the company they provided, and the warmth that you felt being in a space with your favourite people. 
“Edds, I’m going out for a smoke break, wanna come?” You asked softly, the yellow packet already on your hand, trying not to feel nervous as you feel Steve looking deep into your eyes. 
“Um, not really… I really need to take a piss.” He laughs a bit more than necessary, the alcohol finally taking him over. 
“I’ll come.” Steve's voice finally could be heard. That stupid smile in his lips anytime he gets to spend quiet time with you. 
“Come on.” You smiled shyly as you stood up, a bit too fast, feeling the alcohol all at once once you finally were out of your chair. 
The cold air was the first thing that you felt, hitting you right in the middle of your chest, though you did not feel its coldness, at least not now. Not when he was right there beside you.
You’ll deny it every time somebody asks, but the way he lights the cigarette was hypnotizing. 
His long fingers curving to stop the wind from blowing away the flame, his lips holding it tightly, his eyes looking down carefully so that he does not burn himself. And just the way his nose and parted lips would shine in a soft orange light once the flame was ignited, it made him look both peaceful and angelic. But honestly, that wasn’t the best part. 
The best part of his little ritual came when he’d scooch over you, his face still -even if it was soft enough that he wouldn't notice- scrunched up, concentrating so that the flame wouldn’t disappear. His hands covering the end of your cigarette now, and he would look at you attentively, holding the lighter until smoke came out of your lips. 
You didn’t pay attention to him in that moment -you never could if you didn’t wanna burn yourself- but if you did you’d see the way his eyes couldn’t stay away from the way your lips look. 
And then, he’d always say and do the same thing. 
First, he takes a step back, so he’s not actually so close to you in case it would annoy you, but his feet would stay pointed at you, just like his attention was fully with you, and the way you look up at him. her and her dove eyes. He thinks he could see them even if he closes his eyes. 
Then his free hand would travel to the top of his head, retouching his hair once again, he does that right before he tilted his head to the left.
Then he always asks the same thing. 
“So, how are you doing?” 
And you’d always say the same thing. 
“Good, I’m doing good.” 
But really, you wanted to say. 
“I’m always good when I’m with you.” 
But it didn’t matter how much you'd drink, you never find the courage. 
But for some reason, today, after he asked you how you were doing he kept talking. 
“I’m not gonna lie to you Henderson, I’m getting pretty drunk today.” And he laughed. I could listen that laugh forever, you kept thinking. Though you didn’t need to say it, he knew it as soon as you smiled up at him and bite your lower lips as you looked at him. 
It drove him mad. 
“Honestly?” You asked as he kept laughing. He nodded and scratched the bridge of his nose with his thumb, cigarette still in his hand. “I’m getting drunk too.”
“Can I tell you something else?” He demanded, his eyebrows raising for just a second, your cheeks starting to hurt from just how much you were smiling. As soon as you nodded he lowered his head, and his voice. “It’s a really stupid thing.” He added, his words slurring a bit. 
“It’s never stupid if you say it.” You say back. It always happened, when you were drunk you could not lie, and with that, you’d say things more sincerely, calmer and softer. Even more when Steve was the one listening to them. 
“You look really pretty today.” 
You were expecting everything but that. Your face lighted up, your eyes shined brighter and you didn’t even know your smile could grow wider. You shook your head and scoffed. A friendly and shocked reaction over such sincerity. 
“You’re an idiot.” It’s the only thing you managed to say back. 
But he knew you were happy. Just as much as he knew his heart had skipped a beat as soon as he saw your eyes squint for a second. It was becoming impossible to act normal around you, he realised. 
You stayed there, under the cold starry sky, not saying anything, and it didn’t matter. You didn’t need to. 
Once you finished smoking in such a comfortable silence it was hard to go back inside, but even if you wanted to stay in that quiet moment, you headed back, only to find Eddie deep in a conversation with a girl you didn’t know. 
Well, it wasn’t really a conversation, more so he had his arm around her waist and was following her out. 
Steve laughed in shock first, after looking at you. 
“Guess that means we’ll have to drink his beer.” You add in a chuckle. 
Your body was all warm and fuzzy. You weren’t going to drink anymore. 
But Steve seemed to keep going, you weren’t sure why, probably just the habit, oblivious to you, it was to calm his nervous thoughts. 
The bar was about to close, and that meant that it was getting quiet again, no need to scream anymore. 
“Your ears get red when you’ve had enough to drink.” You point out touching the tips of Steve’s ears, brushing his hair behind them. You were giggly and touchy, even more so now that no rational thought was in your brain. 
“Well… so does your nose.” He replays back, his eyes softer, as he lets his index finger touch the tip of your nose. “bub.” He adds. You’re not sure if he says it as a reaction to touching it or as a pet name, but you don’t care either way. 
“You’re wasted Harrington.” You giggle as you say his last name, your hands travelling down his neck, into his chest, falling clumsy -but softly- into his lap. He loses his breath for a second as he lets himself enjoy the way your skin feels against his. 
“Like father, like son, right?” He half jokes as he raises the beer he still is working on finishing. 
“What?” You shake your head at him. “No, no way. You look just like your mom.” You add. Your voice feels like a soft song to him at that moment. People never tell him that he looks like his mom, even if he always wanted that. 
“You’re the first person to say that, y’know” He confesses, his hand now resting on his hand, his eyes looking deep into yours. 
“Well… It’s true. Your mom’s beautiful, and so are you.” Your cheeks go red as soon as you realize what you just said. Though you mean every word of it. 
“You think I’m beautiful?” He asks, for a second it seems like he’s mocking you, but you know him well enough to know that he’s just shocked at the way you say things, so truthfully, so honestly. You always have the ability to leave him speechless. 
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” You sound more sure of yourself now, as you snatch a little beer from his bottle, he looks at you with his eyebrows raised, surprised and in absolute awe of you. 
“Not handsome?” You shake your head no as you giggle a bit at him, “Beautifull” He elongates the last L, a grin appearing on his lips. 
That stupid Steve grin. 
“Beautiful people are soft and kind. Not just on the outside, but all of them. That’s you.” His whole expression softened, even more if it was possible. His eyes were a pool of honey and coffee, and they could not stop looking at you, with pure adoration. 
“You’re the one being an idiot now.” 
You giggled as you felt the last sip travel down your throat, you nodded before looking back at him. 
“They’re closing, we should go.” You point out once you see the lights of the bar light up. The universal sign that the night had come to an end. 
-
The ride home was always fun, and worth remembering, every single one. 
This one however, was special. 
Your hand rested on the back of his head, playing with his hair lazily, not really thinking about it. It felt nice, and it was the closest you could be to him. 
That’s what you thought anyway.
What you didn’t expect was Steve deciding to let his hand rest on top of your thigh, not striking it, not squeezing it, it just rested there. His thumb drew a repetitive pattern, a kind of gesture that to you meant I’m here, but to him it screamed I don’t wanna leave.
Once he stopped the car in front of your house, he whipped around to look at you. Once again, he said nothing. He just looked at you. You knew what Robin would say if he saw that, probably something like stop admiring at each other and go to bed, please?. Eddie would probably just laugh and give you a little shove. But right now, the only thing that escaped your lips (that might be trembling because of your nervous heart, or maybe it was because his hand was still in your thigh, and yours was still on the back of his neck) was a soft “Thank you” And he just shook his head, a its nothing gesture. 
Though you weren’t ready for him to get out of his car once you were already on the steps of your house. 
“You okay Steve?” You asked as you saw him approaching. 
He didn’t say anything. 
He just hugged you. 
It had never felt like this. His hands holding you closer than ever, his head resting on the nape of your neck. Of course you returned the feeling, holding him thigh, not wanting to let go. Your head rested on his chest, and you could smell every inch of him. Aftershave, a deep cologne, the beer that you had drank and cigarette smoke. You closed your eyes for a second, trying to memorise how it all felt, how his respiration slowed for that moment, how he took a deep breath before letting you go and how he looked down at you, his honey eyes shining. His cheeks a bit flustered, and you're guessing that yours are too. 
“Yeah. Good night honey.” 
honeyhoneyhoney. 
-
“It would just be a quick drop, you wouldn’t even be five minutes late I swear!” Dustin whined again. He knew he was getting you annoyed, and frustrated, he could tell by the way your eyebrows were scrunched up and your nails were getting buried into your waist, holding tight onto something so you wouldn’t snap at him. 
“It’s not about dropping you off, it’s just…” You always had trouble communicating when you were like this, when your thoughts were going faster than your actions, when you got overwhelmed by things that nobody seemed to get overwhelmed by. “I’m supposed to go to Edds show, and I really don’t want to be late, because if I am, I might not find them and then that would mean I-”
“They’ll wait for you.” He looked down at the floor, his hands had his fingers intertwined, the same anxious tick you had, it looks like he inherited that too. “Please? Will goes back to California in a couple days and we really want to finish his campaign.”
You nodded, you understood the need to see someone, a friend. You know how much Dustin misses Will when he’s not around. He nodded back, and he sat on top of your bed. Happy. Calm, not pushing your buttons anymore. 
“So… Who’s going?” 
“Where?”
“To Eddie’s show.” He gestured with his hands, a weird look in his face that you had no time to get into. 
“Um, Robin and Steve.” You add back, your voice a bit higher in pitch, turning your back so you can look into your closet, hoping to find something that might work. Your indecision -you often think- is the worst thing that happens to you. “Nancy was supposed to come but she said something came up, so…”
“She didn’t tell you?” The tone of his voice made you turn fast to him, a shocked honesty that makes you wonder. 
“Tell me what?”
“Her and Jonathan got back together.” 
“Oh.” oh. “How do you know?” Your ears were ringing, poor Steve you thought. Poor heart-broken Steve, the only thing you ever wanted for him was for him to be happy, it didn’t matter with who, as long as he actually loved the person and was loved in return. 
“Steve told me.” Even if your little brother’s voice was calm, he was still looking at you with that same look. The one he uses when he’s trying to gather information, seeking a reaction, and if you were being honest, he was getting one. 
“Is Steve okay?” You needed to know, because right now it was all you could think about, about the kind boy that deserves to be loved, even if it can’t be by you. 
“You’re kidding? He helped Jonathan get her back!” That confused you even further, why would Steve help him get the girl he’s in love, get together with someone else. You turned back and started grabbing different tops and shirts and laying them above the bed. 
“Why would he do that? Isn’t he like, in love with Nance?” The way he started laughing made your shoulders tense for a second, jumping at such a reaction. “What are you laughing for?”
“He’s not in love with her! Jesus, you can be blind sometimes…” The palm of his face brushes his face as he looks at you, a puzzled look still on yours. 
“I don’t know what you’re on kid, but I need to get ready and have no clue what to actually wear so…” He picked up the white tank top and threw it to you. 
“You’re an idiot sometimes, you know that?” Dustins i’m much clever than you tone came back as he stood up. You rolled your eyes at him and gave him a petty smile. 
“Yeah, I’ve been told.” 
-
As you parked outside where Eddie was playing, a few minutes late, you grew nervous. The parking lot was full of cars, and finding a spot took longer than you anticipated, so by the time you found a spot and got to the entrance, the queue only seemed longer and longer. People standing in a not-so-neat line, chatting amongst themselves, shivering away the coldness of the night. Cigarette smoke and off-key lyrics filled the ambient of the people pulled away. 
You realise at that moment, you didn’t have a ticket. 
Steve and Robin had gotten in with Eddie. 
And you had no idea how to get in, so you took a quick lap to see if you found someone, anyone. 
Thankfully for you, Steve was by the entrance door, chatting away with one of the security guys. Even if Steve was tall, and had a wide back, the man talking to him toward over him, it almost made you giggle, seeing him as someone smaller, when he usually was the one that filled the room, even with just his presence. 
As you walked to him, smoke escaping your lips and a scent of burnt smoke following you, you remembered the conversation you had with Dustin. And still, you didn’t believe him, at least not until you saw the way his demeanor changed when you approached him, and a relieved “Steve” came out of you. 
Steve lost his breath for a moment. 
You looked truly angelic, and you didn’t even need to try. You in that white tank top that made your breasts appear larger, more exposed than they’re usually are, your hair down, letting the left side of your neck free, as the wind blew, and your jeans hugging every curve of your body. It drove him mad. Even worse, he always loved when you wore red lipstick, like tonight. 
Of course he wasn’t in love with anyone but you. 
But you didn’t know. 
The same way he didn’t know just how much it drove you crazy when his shirts hugged his arms like that, his veins more prominent when his arms were crossed on his chest. His hair always seemed to float, like it had a gravity of his own, but that single strand of hair that felt in between his eyes made you focus on him more. His soft honey dark eyes that were only looking at you, half lidded and full of adoration. It drove you crazy.
Of course you weren’t in love with anyone but him. 
But he didn’t know. 
Just like you had thought until a few hours ago that he still loved, or liked Nancy, it wasn’t until he had picked up Robin a few minutes ago that he didn’t find out that what you had with Eddie was purely platonic. Robin had laughed just as much as Dustin did, and called him an idiot all the same. But still, you both thought that your feelings weren’t returned, because that would be too perfect to be real. Impossible, just a dream. 
However, the way your name sounded when Steve said it made you forget about everything else, and just focus on him. 
A quick hug, not like the one he had given you that night he had driven you the night after you’d spent your entire night in a bar. You had come to realise, he became braver once some time had passed, and so did you. 
So you headed inside, where Robin was waiting for the both of you in the bar, a warm welcome and a big cheers with some beers that you grabbed as you moved further into the pit. 
The crowd was electric, everyone cheering for the show to start, eager to sing along with the band. You followed along, screamed when Corroded Coffin finally came on stage, whoo’d Eddie when he asked How are you doing Indianapolis and laughed when he admitted that he missed saying how are you Hawkins. 
Robin cheered the loudest and it made Steve laugh. One of those authentic, closing your eyes and holding your stomach kind of laughs. You thought that it was one of the highlights of the night already. 
But as these things often go, once Eddie’s band was over, and the next one came, the bar got even more crowded, and the lights felt brighter, and everyone seemed to be looking at you, judging or god knows what. Everyone seemed to bump into you, and you had already pulled the glue out of your empty cristal bottle on both sides. Breathing was becoming a hard task, and so did hearing anything that was being said to you. 
“Honey” You heard Steve as soon as you felt his warm hand on your shoulder. You looked up to him, a haze in your eyes.”Are you okay?” He halved screamed into your ear, his breath lingering into your skin. 
You pull him closer for a moment, afraid he might not listen. 
“Too many people.” You’re not sure if he could hear you, or what he could do. You try even harder to relax your breathing, to stop looking around. But it all ends when you feel his fingers intertwined with yours. 
You look up to him, he just nods to Robin who nods back at him, and he starts walking to the back of the pit, the lights seem to not burn anymore, and the people are few and far between. He just stays there, with you for a second before he opens his mouth. Looking at you and the way your eyes are scanning every single person in the room, looking for something that you don’t know what is.
“Honey?” There it is again, the soft worried Steve voice, his attention only on you. 
You look back at him, as you feel his hand grabbing yours thighter. He’s the only thing you’re looking at now. 
“Do you need to get out? Get some air?” He knows you won’t actually answer, but takes the nodding that you do as a clear enough sign. 
The creaking of the door and the friendly doorman brings you back down to earth, and so does the wind hitting your chest. 
“Better?” He asks again, desperate for some sort of confirmation from you. 
“Yeah, I just- Sorry…” You sort of mumble, more to yourself than to him. 
In that moment you realise that your hands are still tangled together, and the blood rushes to your cheeks as soon as you look down at them. They fit together so naturally, you think. Like a missing piece of a puzzle. 
“Don’t apologize. We’ll stay here as long as you need, ‘s fine.” You instinctively bite the inside of your cheek as you nod at him, a soft smile, a thank you of sort appears on your face, as does a grin on his. 
Without letting go of you, he reaches down into his jeans front pocket, and takes out a box of Camel, offering you to take one. Smoking might be bad for your lungs, but it does help with regulating your breathing, and he knew that’s just what you needed, and honestly, you were craving one, so you nodded again, searching for a lighter with the cigarette already in between your lips. Before you even find it, you feel the warmth of fire close to your mouth, and you just inhale the smoke. 
“Thank you…” He shakes his head, as he inches closer to you, the same strand of hair falling between his eyes again. 
“There’s no need for that.” He whispers, his words just as sweet as he is. His free hand pushes your hair behind your ear, and falls slowly to the nape of your neck, letting it rest there for just a second, his thumb stroking the end of your jaw in soft short motions, holding you up so you look at him, your doe eyes looking deep into his, he swears he could melt right here and there. You were driving him crazier everyday with the way you looked at him. 
For a second there, he thinks you might even love him back. 
“I just don’t know why I get like that, when there’s so many… I dunno” you scoff off, as your shoulders shrug ever so slightly, enough for him to catch, enough for your hair to move again and let the smell of your shampoo reach him. “I’m okay, don’t worry.” You say with a smile. 
He looks deep into his eyes, looking for any sign that you might be lying, he doesn’t find any. And he likes to think that you’re better because of him. It's funny how right he is. 
“We can stay here as long as you need.” Steve reasures you once again, getting closer again. Your body and his only a push away from touching. 
“You’re always so sweet to me.” You’re thinking out loud now, you bite your lower lip as soon as you see him mask his blush with a soft chuckle, as his grin deepens, and you stop for a second to look at his pretty pink lips. You even let yourself imagine what it would be like to kiss them. 
Steve debates what to do next. He knows you’re not lying, he knows that you’re being sincere and truthful. He can tell by the way your eyes are half lidded, looking at him like you’re in the safest space possible -even when you’re actually outside downtown Indianapolis- so in the end, he just wraps his arms around you. And he holds you even tighter when he feels you wrapping your arms behind his neck, and the way you stand on your tiptoes so you can hold him closer, your leg between his, his hands playing with the ends of your air. He breathes you in, intoxicating himself with the way you smell. You’re worried he’ll feel just how fast your heart is beating. But you’re too occupied smiling deeply and sincerely. 
He feels safe. 
Yes, there might be some butterflies, but they’re not nervous ones, it’s all just calmness. Love even. 
-
He ends up paying for your drinks, and you spend the night dancing at the back of the pit with Robin and eventually Eddie joins you. You laugh, and dance around, sing the songs off key with Robin making Eddie laugh as he joins you. Admiring the way Steve covers his face embarrassed, that the idiots causing the whole club to cheer you on as you move are indeed his friends. But what makes you have the deepest smile is everytime you catch Steve eyes, thay always seem to be on you. He even dances with you a couple times when Robin or Eddie go away to the bathroom or to grab more drinks. 
You don’t care because he is here and everything feels right. 
But the night was coming to an end, and you still were buzzing with energy. 
Even outside, where the cold wind wrapped around you you were still singing and dancing until Eddie started speaking. 
“Steve, can I take your car?” He asks, and it makes you all turn around and look at him. 
“What for? Where’s your van?” Robin followed, her voice raised a little too loud. 
“I think Gareth might have taken it.” Eddie explains as he points at his van driving away, with Gareth in the driver’s seat. You can’t help but laugh a bit, stopping slowly as you feel Steve laying his arm around your shoulders, you let yourself think of it as an embrace. Or maybe he was just cold. 
“Who’ll drive me home?” He mutters as he searches for the keys in his pocket. 
“I’ll drive you.” You say, looking up at him. Steve’s eyes shine brighter, with that look. A look you have only seen in him once before, long ago. 
“Sure.” He mutters, a grin in his face. “You won’t kill us?” He jokes as he pushes some hair away from your face with the hand that rests right where your neck meets your shoulder.
“I’ll come with you” Robin mumbles as she approaches Eddie, her eyebrows raised. 
Steve knows that if Robin could talk to him now she would plead with him, to actually make a move. He decides that she’s right. 
“Alright, let’s get home.” Eddie winks at you, a look that begs you to be careful. He grabs the keys that Steve throws him, the jingle of them making you realise that this was actually happening. 
You blame it on the alcohol. But you have to admit that holding his waist was something you have wanted to do for so long its feels fucking angelic once your fingers touch his skin, under his shirt, right above the seam of his jeans. 
Steve chews gum when he’s nervous, and the minty flavor, or maybe the amount of beer inside his system makes him say the most stupid thing ever. 
“Do you like gum?” 
“Yeah” 
“You want some?” 
“Sure.” You stop, expecting him to reach down his pocket and grab the small packet. You part your lips open expecting him to do so. Instead, Steve in a bold move opens his mouth and pulls you closer. 
Before you can even process what he’s doing, his thumb reaches your jaw, opening your mouth a bit more for you, and you see the way his tongue places the minty gum on your lips. You had closed your eyes. Thinking he was going to do something else. 
It had made you nervous and weak all the same. You can’t help but think, as you take a few steps, your hand holding even tighter onto him, that was one of the hottest things you had ever seen. 
It got better. 
After a few steps he talked again. His voice sultier, deeper. His eyes somehow were darker, but still looked like they were full of adoration for you. 
“Does that gum still have some taste on it?” 
“Yeah, minty” You manage to say. 
“Can I have some?” 
This time around, it's you who grabs him. And you can feel the way he smiles at that, and the way his fingers hold your face up again to meet him. This time it’s you who gives him the gum back. 
Only, you place it between your lips, and it's his tongue that gets it. 
In that moment you know, you’re fucked. 
And so does he. 
-
“Honey?” He asks as he sees you pulling into his street. 
The whole drive back home had been exactly like the last time. Except this time the way he would caress your leg felt hungry for your touch back, and your fingers would end up intertwined, singing the songs that came into the radio, not really paying attention, all of it focused on the way he was playing with your fingers. 
“Mmmh?” 
“My car keys may have been chained to my house keys.” He admits, embarrassed, as he covers his face. You can’t help but look at him and laugh a bit. 
“S’okay, you can sleepover.” He nods and you change directions. 
And before you know it you’re already parked, and he’s already following you inside. 
That’s when it hits you. 
Steve is in your room. 
Steve is sleeping over in your bed. 
Steve had practically kissed you. 
whatthehellisgoingon
You shake your head, not wanting to read too much into things that haven’t and might never happen. 
“I uh… I’m going to change.” You whisper, a bit of shame could be felt on your words, and Steve just nodded, lost in the sight that was you in your room. “Do you need anything?” 
“No, I… Usually just sleep with my boxers on.” That confession made you blush and bite your lower lip as you nodded. Not really knowing what to do or say. 
So you just turned around, you took off your bra, tossing it on the floor before you took off the white tank you had. You reached for your sleep shirt. An old grey shirt that was way overdue to throw away, but it was long enough and soft enough that you felt it was perfect for sleeping in. So, Steve just enjoyed the show. 
He stayed there, watching the way your body moved. He was the one that had his eyebrows raised, his chest racing and his cheeks flushed. He was lost in you. And you were painfully obvious that he was looking, maybe that’s why you take a bit longer to take off your tank top before putting on the gray shirt. Maybe that's why your heart skips a beat when you hear the sound of his belt hitting the ground at the same time that his jeans did. While you took your own jeans off, he took off his shirt. 
You knew you had to turn around now. 
And as you did you go lost in him. 
Him standing there, in nothing but his black boxers, framing all of him. Him and his chest with some hair, trailing all the way down to his waistband. That was an image you probably would never be able to forget. 
He took the first step. A soft grin appears in his lips once again. As he pushes the same flock of hair behind your ear, you can't help but tilt your head into his touch. He takes another step forwards, and just looks at you, deep into your eyes. You both chuckle, nervously at the situation, and like before, he holds you. Thight. Only this time, you can feel him against your leg. It makes you press your own legs together a bit more. 
Once he lets go, you slide into the bed, and he closes the lights, following you closely. 
“Is it okay if you hug me?” You ask. 
“Mmh.” He’s at a loss for words. 
He cuddles you, feeling you closer than ever before. And one of his hands gets lost into your thigh, right where your waistband meets your skin, tracing it. Softly. It drives you insane. Steve’s breathing into your hair, and you can feel how his breathing is fastening, just as much he can feel yours, by the way your stomach goes up and down. He can’t help himself anymore. He leaves a wet kiss on your neck. 
That’s all it takes. 
You turn around and you know you’re fucked. You can’t hold yourself anymore. You explote. 
You kiss him. 
The way his lips press against yours feels like he really wanted this, maybe even as much as you did. Your body pulls him closer, and his leg finds itself tangled in between yours. He’s lost in you and the way your mouth feels. He bites your lower lip, softly. And as soon as you feel the tug a soft whimper escapes your lips. Steve melts into you even more, his legs putting pressure in that spot between your legs that is already throbbing for him. Your hands find the back of his neck, and become buried into his hair. His soft chestnut hair. His hands begin to train up, inside your shirt. Holding your waist harder than before. Another moan escapes your kiss swollen lips, and he grunts in return. 
He tries to memorise you, and the way you look like now. To him, you’re a goddess fallen from the sky, and he’s the lucky one. 
He climbs above you, tracing kisses down your neck, as his hands travel up, up enough to meet your breast and press down, even carefully he’s strong enough and skilled enough to pinch your nipples, making them hard. And your legs wrap around him, and you can’t quite believe just how big he’s gotten just from kissing you. 
His hands take off your shirt and as soon as he looks at you he’s a goner. 
“Fuck, you’re beautifull honey.” He groans. A deep voice you’ve never heard from him. 
It makes you pull him closer. And he starts to move, his cock and your clit being only separated by the small fabric between you both. 
“Can I-” He cuts you off as he looks up at you, stopping the trail of kisses he wanted to finish on your left breast. 
“You can do anything you want to me honey” 
You can’t help yourself. The wetness patch only growing on your thong. You needed him, but you were so desperate to touch him, to see him. 
You flipped him around, leaving him laid on your mattress, his hands up in shock. He’s surprised by you in the best way possible. 
You were the one kissing him senseless now, as you grind on top of him. HE grew harder and stiffer with every time your clit pressed against him. His hands grabbed your ass in that moment, hard and burying his fingers as deep as he could. You wasted no time kissing every beauty mark that you could see, slowly going down his stomach, his breath shortening, sucking in and groaning your name in the most delicious way you have never heard anyone say it. 
Your hands found the hem of his underwear and pulled it down. He was so big. His pink tip already wet with pre-cum, and it was all because and for you. Your eyes widened with desire, you had to taste him. 
So you did. 
It only took a lick for Steve to shiver, and that made nothing but turn you on even more. His hand had now started to press on your clit through the fabric. It didn’t matter, it felt too good. 
So, as you looked deep into his eyes, you wrapped your lips around him, and you went down. 
Steve had never been more desperate, the eye contact, you and your pretty doe eyes looking at him like he was the only thing in the world. 
His fingers had pushed your thong to your side, and started messing around your entrance, it wasn’t until his waist flinched forward, making you swallow him whole, that he didn’t actually finger you. 
But once he did, he couldn’t stop, and neither could you. 
The way you moaned, with him still inside you, the way your waist moved, letting him get more aces into you, it drove him mad, he needed you, like really needed you. 
“Steve, please” You begged. 
That’s all it took. 
His hands took off your thong and pulled you up, he kissed you deeply, his tongue getting lost with yours. Your soft lips fit perfectly with his, and the wetness of his cock still in them. 
He was above you again. Three fingers in, your legs already up, he had you prepared you enough for him to enter, but anyway, when you felt the way his cock slided into you, your walls tensed up for a second, and you both moaned as soon as you felt each other. 
“God, you feel so nice honey” He whispered into your ear before biting it. 
Your legs wrapped around him, tightly, and your hands were on his back, pushing him deeper. He wanted to go slow, but seeing you so helpless, so needy for him, made him pick up the pace. With every thrust, your eyes rolled deeper into your head, your muscles relaxed, and your feet were pointed. 
The warmth of his skin felt so good against yours you felt as if it would never be enough, even if you wanted to scream his name, you couldn’t. Everyone was sleeping. So you did the only thing you could.
“I’ve wanted you for so long Steve '' You whispered into his ears in between thrusts. You felt how his head hangs lower after that, his back arched so he could reach even lower. And when you thought he was as deep as he could, he placed an arm behind you, reaching that place that even you couldn’t. 
“So have I honey.” He admitted before kissing you, a deep, wet kiss. Followed by many more repressed moans and loud groans. “I’m all yours.” 
“I’m all yours” You repeated. 
He grabbed your leg and pushed it up, he was so deep now you could feel him everywhere. You were lost in him. The way his hair bounced, the way his eyes looked at you, his lips swollen because he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop kissing you. 
He was a goner. And so were you. 
You hadn’t come this hard in so long. 
You melted into eachothers arms. 
You had a silent moment, where it was all soft kisses and caresses. You couldn’t quite believe that that had just happened. 
Or how good it had been. 
“I meant it.” You heard him whisper, his lips pressed against your ear. 
“What?” 
“I’m all yours.” He repeats. Leaving a kiss in your hair. “I’ve always been.”
“I mean it too.” You let him know, your nose brushing his, your fingers tangled with his. “I’ve liked you for so long, my love.” 
He laughs a bit. Maybe it was the confession he had just got out of you, maybe it was because you had just called him my love. 
“God, me too.” He finally admits, a weight being pulled away from his chest. “But I thought you had a thing for Eddie.” 
“And I thought you still loved-” He shuts you up with a kiss. 
“We broke up because I was falling for you.” He finally admits. 
You can’t stop smiling or kissing. 
You don’t think you ever will. 
-
if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3
requests are open
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innerwomen · 1 month
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Hiii!!! I really like your writing, it’s so good! Can i request a Batmom. Shes pregnant and she calls bruce and the boys when they are out of patrol. They all assume the worst but she just wants them to drop by the store to get her pregnancy cravings. Thank you!!!
Thank youuu! This is such a cute idea!!! It was so fun to write too, though I don’t have enough Batboys as I liked, I do love the dynamic. Thanks for the ask Anon! Hope you like it 💖💖💖
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The Cravings.
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Batmom
TYPE: ask- fluffyyyyy
WARNINGS: pregnant. Use of D/n = daughters’ name.
here is an AU where y/n’s water broke (suggested by Anon)
“If you need anything call us- don’t hesitate! And if your water breaks you know the emergency number- and, and-”
“Bruce, don’t worry. I know. This is just like any night. Okay?” You say standing up and patting his forearm to comfort him. You had been sitting on your bed while your husband paced in front of you unraveling with anxiousness; before leaving to go on patrol as the Batman.
“You know it’s not since Alfred isn’t here to tend to you.” He says, the dark circles under his eyes proof of how he’s worried for you since now being officially nine months pregnant.
“Plenty of women go through pregnancy without a butler. And some without anyone. I can handle one night without you or the boys or anyone.” You say confidently.
Bruce looks down and meets your gaze, you hear him sigh and you know you have convinced him. He smiles as he looks downwards towards your swollen belly, his hands tracing over invisible lines that cover your stomach. You bring his hands to the side of you belly where seconds later a small kick can be felt.
“See, we will be fine. D/n and me are fine.” You say just as extra confirmation.
“Alright, me and the boys will be back by early morning. Don’t stay up for us, you need your rest. Love you, Y/n.” He brings you closer for a kiss on the lips before leaving.
You walk down to the Batcave where your sons wait for their father all geared up.
“Mother, will you be alright?” Damien asks as he sees you come in with his father, hand in hand.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me, I’m just pregnant.” You say shaking your head and waving away his worry.
“Just don’t eat my Pop-tarts, okay? I’ve got one bag left. I bought you your own.” Tim says as he puts on his mask.
“I won’t, promise.”
Dick walks over to you and hugs you, and whispers, “I love you, mom.” You hug back but then pull away.
“I am not dying, I will see you all later tonight!”
“Bye ma!” You hear from Jason as you walk back into the main part of the house.
……..
Hours pass by and you are, ultimately, utterly unfortunately, bored. You never thought the manor could be so quiet. Usually you would gossip with Alfred until midnight but it was only 10:45 P.M.
“D/n you are not good company.” You say as you remember you’re technically not alone. “What flavors of Pop-tart do we have…” You get off the couch and make your way to the kitchen. You rummage through every drawer and cabinet, only finding a cinnamon Pop-tart. You were very unsatisfied with your find. “You know what I could go for right now, D/n? Some, Pop-Tarts. But we don’t have any.”
You eye the phone on the table.
I can’t call them because they are on patrol, saving the city…. But they did say call if I needed them.
You debate it in your head for a while until your stomach audibly rumbles, and you were mid-way through typing in Bruce’s number.
—————————
“Robin for the last time, we. do. not. kill!” I yell reminding Damien.
“I wasn’t going to kill him! Just slight permanent damage.”
“God- I’m so proud.” Jason says wiping a faux tear from where his eyes would be behind the hood.
“Ok we rounded the last of them and Gotham police are on their way, can we go home now?” Tim says in a whining voice, eager to met his bed at home.
“We finished surprising long. We were sloppy today, Red Hood.” Remarks from Dick to Jason go on.
“Yeah? Well you can take my sloppiness and shove it up your-”
Suddenly my personal phone rang. And only one person has ever called me from that number. Y/n. In an instant worry settled into my chest and panic washed over me. I answer the phone call through my ear piece, “Y/n! What’s wrong? Are you ok- we are on our way!”
“Bruce, no, no, I’m fine.” She says softly. “I was wondering if…. You could stop by the convenience store… and get me Pop-tarts…?”
“….Pop-Tarts…?”
“But don’t get me Cinnamon. Don’t you dare.”
“No problem honey; but you’re okay, right?” I ask one last time to make sure.
“Yes I am perfectly fine. See you when you get here. With the Pop-tarts. Bye, love ya!”
Bruce and the boys in harmony reply, “Love you, too!”
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cranberrymoons · 4 months
Text
hey sweetheart
prompt: meetcute at work (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: e (18+) word count: 896 words tags: modern au, line cook eddie/waiter steve, hooking up
welcome to Day 4 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!
Steve is halfway through his first week when he meets him: the line cook with the long hair pulled back in a bun, the stark black lines of tattoos snaking up his arms, the flirty little smile that he flashes in Steve’s direction when Steve comes back to pick up Table 6’s starters.
It’s a hell of a time to start a job in the first place: mid-holiday season, no one around to train him except Robin who’s only worked there a couple weeks longer than he has and knows next to nothing about The Way Things Work.
But she’s Robin, and she’s familiar, and she knows him well enough to warn him to avoid the flirty long-haired line cook with the big brown eyes and the dimples and the million watt smile directed right at him and – 
Fuck.
“Sweetheart, you rang in Table Twelve wrong,” the guy says, leaning forward over the pass with a ticket in his hand. “This says no onions, but the special isn’t made with onions.”
Steve stares at him as he loads Table Six’s plates onto a tray. He resists the urge to roll his eyes, but only barely.
“My name isn’t Sweetheart,” he says eventually. “And so – just extra don’t put onions on it. Who cares?”
The cook raises his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side. “Thought it sounded nicer than ‘hey new guy’, but if you’d prefer that –”
“Steve,” he says. He shoulders his tray. “My name is Steve.”
The cook gives him a little smile, eyes flashing in the bright fluorescents of the kitchen.
“Alright, Sweetheart.” He tilts his chin up. “Extra no onions for Table Twelve, and you can call me Eddie.”
---
It continues on like that for a week or two: Eddie flirting, finding any excuse to ask a question about his ticket. 
Steve knows what he’s doing; he’s worked in restaurants before, and he’s fucked enough hot line cooks in his time that he should know better than to fall into the trap, but still, he finds himself drawn in, entertaining Eddie’s endless teasing and prodding and poking until he starts doing it back – little digs about his shift meal, questions about a menu item that he already knows the answer to.
“Dude,” Robin says, halfway through his first month. 
It’s rounding up on Christmas, and the place is packed, corporate groups out for holiday parties and couples on dates. 
“If you don’t stop flirting, I’m going to cut your fucking dick off,” she says. “Seriously.”
And – okay. That’s fair. 
Steve pulls himself away from where he’d been leaning over the pass, asking Eddie a question about the catch of the day that he’s already asked three times tonight. Clears his throat and straightens up. He tugs his tie back into place, claims the braised oxtail that’s destined for Table Two and clears his throat.
“Sorry.”
Eddie sends him a wink, and Steve feels himself flush.
“Please tell me you’re not going to fuck him,” Robin says as they exit the kitchen.
Steve sighs. “I’m not going to fuck him.”
---
And of course, he’s lying through his teeth.
The very next night, they’re both off work, and he gets a text from an unfamiliar number, just –
hey sweetheart 
Steve flushes as he stares down at his phone, scratching a hand back through his hair. He takes a breath.
Wonder who this could be , he texts back.
All he gets in response is a simple,
😇 
---
Two hours later, he’s flat on his back in Eddie’s bed, clinging to his shoulders and whining as Eddie fucks him so hard he loses his breath, so hard he feels like his brain is rattling around in his skull. He digs his teeth into Eddie’s skin, ankles locked around his back and not even bothering to hold back the noises that Eddie’s punching out of his chest, just –
“Fuck,” he gasps, voice coming high in the back of his throat. “Holy shit, I –”
Eddie’s mouth runs up the column of his neck, hands trailing over his skin, nails dragging sharp lines down his sides.
“You going to come for me, sweetheart?” he asks, voice low in his ear. “Show me how pretty you can be?”
And that’s – for some reason that sets Steve off, turns his skin over to fire as he grips tighter to Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging in, back arching off the bed, coming so hard he sees stars.
---
And then later, when they’re both fucked out and exhausted and Steve is preparing to take his cue to gather his clothes and make a graceful exit, he feels Eddie’s mouth skimming up the side of his neck, hand tangling in his hair, dragging him into another kiss.
A real one, with teeth and tongue and lips, a kiss that isn’t intended to go anywhere other than just to be , and his breath catches a little in his chest, hand skittering over Eddie’s back as he rolls over on top of him.
“Stay?” Eddie asks, voice quiet and hopeful and muffled where their mouths are still pressed together. He smiles, lips quirking up and drawing Steve along with him. “You know I know how to make breakfast.”
And Steve breathes out a quiet laugh, bumping their noses together. He sighs.
“As long as there’s bacon.”
[also on ao3]
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upsidedownwithsteve · 8 months
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CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too. 
The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon. 
Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago. 
Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”
It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne. 
It was easy. It was simple. 
That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar. 
“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”
You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—
“Jesus, watch it!”
You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel. 
“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter. 
You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”
You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 
“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”
Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”
You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun. 
“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”
He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”
You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue.  “I heard the food is shit.”
Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink. 
“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted. 
 The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out. 
“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up. 
You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand. 
“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”
“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”
Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”
Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”
Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down. 
“Well?”
“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore. 
“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”
Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette. 
The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress. 
He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before. 
“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”
—————
By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain. 
“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”
So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of. 
Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”
You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers. 
“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”
“Think he was lookin’ for you.”
You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting. 
Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast. 
“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.” 
“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land. 
Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”
So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening. 
Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out. 
“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”
Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him. 
The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue. 
“Sorry.”
—————
Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.  
He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away. 
There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology. 
“Thank you.”
Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter. 
“You got a crush, my friend?” 
Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer. 
“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket. 
He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal. 
—————
The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices. 
It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach. 
She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—
The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both. 
So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago. 
But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship. 
The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor. 
You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”
Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked. 
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”
Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you. 
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”
Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different. 
Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew. 
You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”
The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier. 
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne. 
“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”
When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone. 
“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”
You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”
Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed. 
And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 
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