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bratphilia · 6 months

Note

Heyyyy so I was the person that requested more fics like the flip side (it’s 6 am and I can’t remember if that’s what it’s actually called atm) but I was thinking about possibly a situation where reader has a history with William possibly when they worked at Freddy’s before they shut down and were younger (still of age though; I’m thinking probably when they like reopened for a little bit in the early 90s). Now in the I guess present day they aren’t exactly going out with mike but maybe they are a babysitter and mike and reader are pining over each other?? But him working there brings up bad past memories of your time there but you don’t really want to tell mike.

Honestly looking for lots of tension, slow burn, pining, and angst but not too much angst yk and ofc nsfw

Sorry if this is like too specific or whatever but this has been on my mind for sure

note: i did some age calculating to fit with the timeline so reader is 18 in 1993 and 25 (the same age as mike) in 2000. creds to michy for convincing me this was actually post-worthy.

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader x mike schmidt

tags: threesome, rough sex, dub/con, age difference

taglist: @dilfity

triangle (w. afton x reader x m. schmidt)

(in november, 1993, you're a fresh hire at freddy's and the youngest adult on the staff at eighteen years old. it's not an ideal workplace by any means, but it's decent compared to other jobs that you most definitely didn't qualify for. and the people at freddy's are nice! maybe a little too nice, but the motto for the employees was "remember to smile, you're the face of the company" after all.

you work mainly as a waitress. you would say you're pretty good at your job. you're nice to the customers and work surprisingly well with the kids. the uniform is admittedly cute, too. red vest and a black pencil skirt. your skirt, for some reason, came in a bit too small prompting a few lingering glances from employees and patrons, but besides that you don't really mind.

it's a cold, rainy day in autumn. you wish you were wearing pants, but for once you're thankful for the lack of air conditioning in the restaurant. it's closing time and you're heading back to the employees room to grab your jacket and umbrella. you sit on the red, metal bench waiting for your sister expectantly. you never bothered to get your own license because she's always been a reliable source for rides everywhere. tonight was not one of those days. it's been at least an hour. your leg bounces up and down.

you hear the doors shut and a jingle of keys, and the distant scent of cigarette smoke lingers. you turn to see your boss, mr. afton, locking up the restaurant. he turns to you too, clearly confused why you're still here. "shouldn't you be home by now?"

you swing your legs and sigh. "my ride never showed."

he clicks his tongue and looks out to the parking lot, then looks back at you. "why don't i take you home?" you realize in this moment you and mr. afton have never quite really spoke. he's one of the thirty-something-year old owners of freddy's. he wears the springbonnie suit sometimes and performs with the co-owner, mr. emily, for the kids on fridays and saturdays. he's very charismatic and sociable, but mainly with the older crowd of the employees at freddy's. you hear some of your colleagues whispering about him, how he's such a kind and handsome man, which, as you're getting a good look at him right now, the latter is definitely true.

"are you sure?" you ask. mr. afton smiles down at you.

"sure thing. follow me." it's a huge upgrade to what you were previously considering before his offer: walking home in the pouring rain and chancing ruining your uniform.

you follow close behind him. so close that your umbrellas slightly bump into each other. a deep purple-paint-detailed mercedes-benz comes into view. judging by mr. afton's clear affinity for the color purple, as he includes it in at least one part of his daily attire, you assume it's his. he opens the car door on the passenger's side for you.

"thanks," you say politely.

in december, 1993, mr afton — who you've come to know as william — has become a frequent presence in your life. it started when he actually asked you if you wanted another ride home. you had phoned your sister, letting her know there was a change of plans. this became an everyday thing until you no longer needed to call home.

you would be lying if you said you hadn't started to develop feelings for him somewhere along the way. how could you not? he was just such a nice man! so charismatic, not just with you, but with the customers. always asking everyone how their day is going and dropping whatever he's doing to help out. there's was something special about your connection with him. he made you feel special.

it was one rainy day, just like the day back in november, when he stopped you and leaned in and kissed you. it was the most unexpected thing that happened to you in awhile. you don't know what possessed him to do it, but you found yourself eagerly kissing him back. so much that he chuckled and commented on it before sending you off. you spent the rest of the night lying awake in bed, touching yourself to every possibility you could think of.

the next day he avoided you, much to your dismay. you couldn't stop thinking about it. it slowed down your performance, making you distracted. the time just dragged on.

it wasn't until he called you in his office after your shift that you felt any kind of relief. he asked you to lock the door behind you, just like how one of those fantasies you daydreamed of started. with a fast-beating heart, you did what he said and turned to face him. and then his mouth was on yours again. it was much more sensual and yet there was an anxious component to it that made your stomach tingle with excitement.

"why don't you sit on my lap?" he suggested once he pulled away from you.

you froze. you've never actually done this sort of thing before. something delicious curls inside of you. gingerly, you sit on the thigh he patted on and he bounces his leg slightly, the fabric of his pants hitting just the right spot. he laughs at the yelp you give.

"just relax, baby. 's just you and me."

in january, 1994, is when kids go missing. everyone is on edge and patrons are frequenting freddy's less and less. on top of that, the animatronics are malfunctioning more and more, so there are even less customers due to the amount of maintenance that needs to be done.

you and william continue your routine: you fuck and he drives you home afterwards. but lately, something's been weird with william. he's been more... erratic? is that the right word? or just elated. he seems so gleeful, but more violent during sex. he's never showed any masochism until now. he even put a knife to your throat as he pounded into you, threatening to "fucking kill you" if you scream. you took it as just one of those things he says during sex, like when he calls you "slut" and "whore" but it's starting to scare you as it becomes a frequent thing.

it gets worse. you're taking the trash out to the alley when you see the security puppet laying limp. you go and investigate only to find charlie emily, the other owner's daughter, dead and badly hurt. like she's been stabbed repeatedly. you scream in shock and run in to find william, but he's long gone. instead you went to your co-worker, who called the police.

you were asked to stay at the restaurant until you after you were questioned and you told them everything you saw. you looked but william was still nowhere in sight. you walked home that night.

catching the killer was never something you were interested in. in fact, you hoped to do the opposite of some of your vigilant co-workers, who openly investigated the restaurant. some of them ended up missing too. the police had been called at freddy's on multiple occasions.

on one particular occasion, the last one before freddy's closed, actually, you went to the backrooms to catch a breather. what you found? william pouring bleach to bloodied clothes, bloody knife laying on a nearby table. you drop your keys in shock, alerting him. Turning on your heel to break for it, he grabbed the knife and your arm.

"tell anyone and i'll fucking gut you right here, right now," he threatened in a low voice.

you jostle your arm, desperate to break free. "please!" you whisper-shout. "i won't tell anyone, please let me go!"

and for some reason, he trusted you.

freddy's closed after that, and you swore to yourself you would take what happened to the grave. maybe you were a coward, but you had no solid evidence it was him behind the murders. it would all just be hearsay. no one would believe you anyways. william had such a high reputation, not just at fredy's, but within the community.)

mike hangs up the phone with a sigh. "so...?" you say, leaning towards his direction in anticipation.

"i took the job," he grumbles. his head is in his hands, running through his hair anxiously.

you throw your hands up in the air in excitement. "yay! we get to keep abby!" mike immediately snaps out of his sulking to bust out laughing. as he shakes his hand, he mentally adds your twisted sense of humor to the endless list of things he loves about you. and your distantly maternal role in abby's life. we get to keep abby.

you snap him out of his thoughts with a question. "who's the lucky employer?"

he laughs again in disbelief. "freddy fazbear's pizza. working in security. they need someone to watch the place and make sure no one breaks in and stuff."

you frown and furrow your brow. freddy's. william. "something wrong?" he muses, noticing your change in demeanor. you shake your head.

"no, nothing. i'm happy for you. sounds.. just peachy." mike shoots you a half-smile.

it's nighttime when it's almost time for mike's shift. your head is in your hands as you sit on the couch. it's one of those times when abby's off in her room, scribbling away with a crayon. you feel sick to your stomach. why did it have to be freddy's? who even gave him this job? why is it still there?

you hear a slew of curses coming from mike's room and decide to investigate. he's struggling with the loop of his belt and you can't help but smile. "need some help?"

he looks at you, face turning red. "you don't have to—"

"oh, come on," you sigh, moving to help him. "it's okay to need help sometimes." mike doesn't say anything, but from the way he's looking at you, he wants to.

"what?" you ask, but mike just shakes his head. you wouldn't understand. you decide to just leave it alone — mike's always been a distant guy.

"you need to be careful," you tell him with a much more serious tone than intended.

"why?" he asks, confused.

you try to relax your face and give him a lighthearted smile. "you should always be careful, mike! you never know what kinds of people you can encounter."

he has no idea.

two days go by. mike comes back home, surprisingly well-rested, until before his third shift when he casually mentions to you that he mainly just sleeps on the job. you freeze at that, worry forming inside of you in the pit of your stomach. "wh-what do you mean you just sleep there?! are you fucking crazy?!"

mike looks bewildered at your outburst. "i told you about this. i'm doing that dream stuff still..."

"okay, but do you have to do it on the job? do you have any idea how dangerous that is, when you're supposed to be looking out for any suspicious behavior." you're poking a finger into his chest, scolding him like he's a child.

"jeez, what's the matter with you?" he sighs in frustration. "if it bothers you that much then why don't you come with me and make sure i stay awake? i'm tired all the fucking time, and you know that!"

you know you shouldn't, for your own safety, but you have to think about mike. besides, if there's two people there, one can call the police. you let your paranoia, and your overwhelming care for mike, get the better of you. "fine. i'll come with you. put on your vest, grab abby, and i'll be in the car."

mike looks at you with sad eyes. you really didn't mean to be so harsh but it doesn't matter; he's more important. the drive over is silent, not that mike is really a talker anyways, but there's a thick tension in the air. your jaw and your fists are clenched anxiously, and you try not to look at him. when he parks the car he sighs and says your name.

the three of you set up camp in mike's office. abby sets up her tent and shortly falls asleep. you pace around the room while mike stares at the cameras, head in his hands with his eyes barely open. you walk over and snap your fingers in front of his face with a huff.

then something goes wrong. mike calls you over. "uh, i think i just saw something move? towards the offices." if it's potential danger, you decide it should be you who goes. not in a heroine sort of way, more of a need for closure.

you make your way slowly towards the offices. the dead silent halls make room for the only sound being your quickened breathing. you can practically hear your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. something rustles and, of course, it comes from wiliam's old office. you pray it's a rat.

as you push the door open, you breath a sigh of relief when the room is empty. that is, when someone slaps a hand over your mouth. "how truly lucky i am that you were the one to find me, lovely."

you struggle instantly but he wraps his other arm around your neck and pushes you further into the office. you land on the ground, hitting your head on the chair. looking up at him in horror, you cling onto the chair for dear life and get a good look at him. he admittedly aged well. salt and pepper hair and beard and all, it looks ridiculously good on him. "don't be afraid. i only want to make amends. i saw you were here and—"

"fuck you!" you spit venomously. "i don't want anything to do with you!"

william looks dumbstruck, then he scowls. the look on his face scares you as it contorts horribly. "what is it? is that boy? you realize i'm the one that gave him this job, right?"

"i don't know what the fuck you're talking about, but—"

suddenly, william lunges towards you and grasps you by your cheeks, holding your face tightly. "stop acting like such a fucking brat. remember when you were such an obedient little girl for me? let's go back to that, yeah?"

before you know it, you're being shoved against the desk facing forward. "i'm gonna teach you some fucking manners." you scramble in his grasp but his strength is unmatched. you know what's coming next and it makes you feel something burning in your stomach that you try to convince yourself desperately is sickness.

he pulls down your pants and you begin to sob. "please!"

"look at you, begging for me already," he laughs. he's undoing his belt and you already feel his dick prodding at your entrance. if this was back in the 90s, before all of this bullshit, he would've had the decency to engage in some foreplay, but there's a sense of urgency that makes it all the more—

god, what the hell is wrong with you. you're so fucked.

he undresses your bottom half, leaving you just in your sweatshirt. "gorgeous," he comments. "just as i remember."

you feel his dick prodding at your entrance, and you squeeze your eyes shut as he pushes in. it still feels as good as it did back then. he fucks you nice and slow, emphasizing each thrust with a slap from his hips onto yours. how does he still fuck this well at his age?

instead of picking up his pace gradually, like he used to, he continues to fuck you slowly. you're moaning uncontrollably now, clawing behind you at his chest, hoping he'll get the message and pick up the pace. he doesn't and just laughs darkly. "he doesn't fuck you as good as i do, huh, baby? you needed my dick to satisfy you all those years ago, and still need it now the way you're gushing on my cock."

you want to tell him mike doesn't fuck you at all, and that you're just friends, and that you only belong to him—

someone calls your name from the doorway. you and william both snap your heads towards the direction, only to find a shocked mike with his mouth agape. "mr. raglan? what the fuck is going on?"

"michael schmidt!" william practically exclaims, excited. he stops fucking you, purposefully burying himself to the hilt inside of you so you groan and squirm at the loss of stimulation. "come! come join us! your girl and i were just getting re-acquainted."

"she's not my..." mike trails off, finding himself moving closer without thinking. he takes in your appearance: bottom naked and bent over the desk with a fucked out expression. god, you're so pretty. you're always so pretty, but this is just...

no, this is wrong, he tries to tell himself. it's almost like william reads his mind when he sing-songs, "join us, or i'll kill the both of you."

like there was a devil and angel on mike's shoulder, the devil was winning. he's always wanted to fuck you and he doesn't necessarily have a death wish, either. "what, uh, what do you want me to do?"

your face falls and your mouth goes dry. william speaks with a grin, "why don't we trade places?"

mike scrambles to undo his belt and you practically drool when he pulls his cock out. fuck, you've wanted mike for awhile now. all that pent up tension between you two is finally spilling over the edge. all those lingering glances and long-lasting touches leading up this

especially like this, with your former fling and the guy you babysit for, makes it — and fuck it, you'll say it — all the more hotter. he replaces william's spot behind you and thrusts in quicker than the latter. he's practically humping you, fucking you desperately like he's running after something. his hands grip onto your hips tightly. "yes," william hisses, pumping himself while sitting dowqn in his chair. when you glance at him, he has the audacity to fucking wink at you. "'attaboy, keep goin.'"

that only encourages mike as he moans your name. "fuck, your pussy feels so good — hah!"

"mmm, mike!" you moan back.

"look at you two," william says breathlessly, "what a lovely fuckin' sight." mike begins to plunge in and out, reaching your cervix with each thrust, and you're close already. he senses that, and you can tell he is too by the way his thrusts gradually become more unbalanced. william's grunts are getting louder.

you're the first one to come, then william, and mike is still desperately pushing out of you. for good measure, he lands an uncharacteristic smack on your ass and then buries himself to the hilt becoming coming inside. the feeling of him filling you up is absolutely delicious. when he pulls out he studies the way that his cum drips out of your pussy. he's enamored with you, by the way.

#fnaf #asks #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smut #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt smut

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call-me-eds · 2 years

Text

Girls Freak Me Out

Masterlist

Eddie x Reader

After graduating, Eddie isn’t as in the loop with the Hawkins population, especially when someone new comes to town.

Have you heard about the new girl on the block, in her black out benz? With her old school kicks and her hipster friends, got a peace sign in hand. She’s everything you want and all you hated, well dressed and overrated. Some girls freak me out.

“Who the hell is that?” Eddie asked. He was in Steve’s driveway, dropping off an extension cord he had borrowed for a show last week. They had become close recently, drawn together by a pushy 14-year old.

Eddie was looking across the street at a girl he had never seen before. Leaning over the hood of your car, you were taking advantage of the unseasonably warm September day in Hawkins to give it a wash. There were nice cars littering Steve’s street, but your custom Mercedes Benz with black detailing was beautiful. Almost enough to distract Eddie from the person washing it.

“New neighbor,” Steve explained. You kept fussing with her hair to move it out of your eyes, off of your neck, so Eddie only got flashes of what you looked like. What he could, see, though, he was already enamored with.

“Jeez, stop staring, she’ll call the cops on you.” Eddie rolled his eyes and shoved the wire into Steve’s arms.

“What’s her name?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I haven’t met her yet. Let’s go over,” Steve started walking down the driveway but Eddie grabbed his shoulder to stop him, the sudden reality of speaking to you dropping his heart into his stomach.

It had taken Eddie weeks to be able to call Steve, Robin, and Nancy friends. The jury was still out on Jonathon. The voice in the back of his head was constantly making him wonder what he would do to fuck it all up. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will were easy, they had D&D. Max and Eleven were harder to read, with their guarded exteriors, but he knew once Max started teasing him the way she did Steve and Eleven said that she liked the man screaming through his radio, that he could consider them buddies, as well.

“Now who’s the creep? Going over to introduce yourself while she’s in barely any clothes, all soaped up,” he sighed and ripped his eyes away, actually starting to be worried that you could feel his glance. Steve shrugged and let it go, but neither of them had to wait long to make their introductions.

The car that had been at the center of Eddie’s dreams screeched into the parking spot outside of the record store. It drew his attention from the Slayer album in his hands, and you bounding through the door kept his eyes up.

“‘Scuse me,” you said, reaching around him to finger through the records. He moved back a step and you continued to hum whatever song was coming through your headphones. When he was looking at you from the safety of Steve’s driveway, he couldn’t make out your specific features. Now, he was close enough to see the birthmark on your shoulder, the way your nose slanted to the right, the color of your eyes.

He had no clue what to say to you, or if he should say anything at all. He could tell your shoes were real leather, not the fake plastic blend he had on his body. You looked like the kind of person that would ridicule him in the hall, but the way you didn’t just shove past him made him second guess his instincts. He had to know more.

“Hey, you’re my new neighbor!” Eddie had left Steve on the other side of the store, with the top 40 records, but of course he popped back up. He was like a fungus. “I’m Steve, great to meet you,” he held out his hand and you laughed a little before shaking it.

“I’m Y/N,” you turned towards Eddie next. He expected a greeting, but you couldn’t ignore the way he had been looking at you the last five minutes. “Is there something on my face?” you asked.

“Nope,” Eddie shook his head and looked back down, quickly glancing at the record in your hands.

“What? Got a problem with The Smiths?”. He shook his head again and willed himself to think of more than one word to say to you, but Steve beat you to it.

“So, how you liking Hawkins so far?” Most of the time, Eddie hated Steve’s charm, but now he was thankful for it. He could entertain you while he just stood there, like an idiot.

Again, he was staring at you, eyes trailing over the brand on your sunglasses, the big purse, and the jeans that looked like they were hand-stitched to your body. You looked like everyone he absolutely could not stand, but he needed to know everything about you. The way you were so confident and immediately came for his throat, he had never met anyone like you.

“Alright, so we’ll see you later,” Steve smiled, clapping a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and breaking him out of his trance. “Let’s roll, Munson, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Eddie,” he said, finally speaking more than one syllable to you, even if it was just his name. “My name’s Eddie. If you ever need a hookup for some herbal let me know. But I can get my hands on pretty much anything.” He never outright offered his services like that, much less in a public space or when the sun was still out. Everyone knew that if they needed drugs, they should go to him. He worried he was too forward, outright assuming you were on the hunt for drugs from a stranger. Before he could apologize, you nodded and looked him up and down.

“Good to know, I will definitely be taking you up on that.” You scared the shit out of him.

Well daddy’s little girl knows how to party, she’s singing “Pour Some Sugar On Me.” She’s well versed in the new pop culture, always rolls with a camera by her side. Well, some girls just freak me out.

The next time Eddie spoke to you, you were standing on Steve’s coffee table, screaming the latest Def Leppard song as it pumped from the speakers. It was a little colder outside, now, but you were still in a cut off t-shirt and short skirt. He couldn’t look away. Well, until you pointed right at him.

Eddie looked over his shoulder to make sure that you weren’t calling someone that you actually had given an indication to liking. When he turned back to you, you nodded and beckoned him over.

“How can I help you?” he yelled over the music, reaching his hand up to help you down. It was already a vast improvement from your last interaction; the weed he had smoked let him talk to you without choking on his tongue. You grabbed his hand tightly and jumped down, stumbling a bit on your landing, but Eddie held you up.

“Have any of that fun stuff you mentioned?” you asked, cocking your head to the side. He should have guessed, it was the only thing you knew about him.

When Eddie was at a typical Hawkins party, he knew his role. He was there to keep quiet, give people drugs, and try to swipe a few valuables he could pawn. At Steve’s parties, he could take a breather and enjoy himself, not having to worry about fitting into the box people shoved him in. He was safe here.

That didn’t mean he came unprepared.

“Let me run outside and get my box out of my van,” he said, prepared to dash out of the house and return before you could change her mind about talking to him.

“I’ll come with you, I’m sweating bullets in here,” you pinched your shirt and waved it away from your body, trying to cool down.

“Okay,” Eddie looked up, trying not to focus on the flashes of your bra he was getting. He led you through the house, and with you still being a new presence in town and him being, well, him, you got out the door without much resistance. When he opened the van door, he tried to block your view of the garbage that littered his backseat.

“Here we go,” he propped the metal lunchbox on his knee and popped it open. “Pick your poison.” You stepped closer and peered inside, the liquor-induced confidence allowing you to pick through the little bags.

“That’s pretty,” you grinned, poking at a small baggie with pink pills. He didn’t think that he ever had someone go off of sight before.

“That definitely does not mix well with alcohol,” he warned, noticing how you were swaying on your feet.

“Well, what does and costs less than $20?” you asked, fishing a bill out from somewhere he couldn’t see. Eddie was no stranger to offering pretty girls free drugs, but never on a first sale. If he set that precedent, then he would never make any money.

“20 bucks? For you, anything in here. But my suggestion is to take it easy so you can enjoy the party,” he pointed to one of the joints that Robin insisted on separating into their own bags. She claimed ‘presentation was key’. He couldn’t deny that his customers appreciated the speedier sale times.

“For me?” you repeated. A deep blush settled into Eddie’s cheeks.

“Well, you’re Harrington’s new neighbor. I want to make sure that you feel welcome to the neighborhood,” he explained. You smiled, knowing that you made him feel a bit uncomfortable. Any time he saw you in town or across the street from Steve’s, he met your wave with a curt nod and picking up his pace. He didn’t mean to be rude, but he genuinely had no idea how to act around you.

Even though kids your age didn’t typically judge their drugs off of sight, people were a totally different situation, and you seemed to twist his expectations around again. You didn’t shy away when you saw him, Steve even said that she asked if you were from the neighborhood, too, and Eddie wanted to die when he learned that Steve told you the truth about where he lived.

“I would probably feel more welcome if you didn’t run away every time I saw you,” you teased, leaning against his car.

“I’m sorry about that. You just, make me nervous,” he shrugged. God, that was a lame excuse. You laughed, though, and he knew that he would say anything to make you giggle again.

“Get to know me, and I promise, I’m not that scary.” Usually, that was his line; it was nice to hear it from someone else..

She’s the sweetest, the sweetest thing but I know she’s no good for me. Gonna take you home and take off your clothes, Baby, I’m nothing but bad news.

“No, I’m serious, this is witchcraft!” You had been seeing a lot of each other as the fall changed to winter, although Eddie never wore more than his leather jacket. After a bout with a nasty cold, he accepted one of the scarves you knit in your free time, conceding that maybe he could cover up a bit more.

Now, you were attempting to teach him to knit himself, but he mostly just ended up knotting your yarn and using your needles to scratch his back.

“Just pay attention,” you sighed, grabbing his hands and trying to contort them in a way totally unnatural to him. Despite the fire crackling in your living room, your hands were freezing. He jumped back a little before dropping the project, an attempted hat, and grabbing your fingers, instead.

“Christ, did you just take these things out of the freezer?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and pulled your hands away, rubbing them against your legs to warm them up.

“Hot chocolate?” you asked him, already getting up to go to the kitchen. Eddie followed closely behind you, socks padding against the hardwood floors. He watched you flutter around the kitchen, grabbing enormous mugs and pulling out milk and whipped cream from the fridge. The soft calm imploded when he saw your hair fall over your shoulder right as you turned the flame on the stove.

“Holy shit, be careful! People are going to think I torture you,” he sprung up and, without thinking, collected your hair to the back of your head and tied it without technique, using the scrunchie from his own wrist. Another knit gift you forced him into taking.

“Thanks, that was kind,” you smiled up at him. He scoffed and walked back to the other side of the counter. “What, I can’t say something nice to you?” You entered into a staredown. Eddie tried his hardest not to let your infectious smile get to him. He could practically taste the sweetness in it from across the room.

“No, you can say whatever you want,” he shrugged, breaking the challenge and looking at the boiling pot on the stove. You lapsed into silence, assembling the drinks and letting Eddie fill half of his cup with marshmallows before you spoke again.

“You do that a lot, you know,” you said. He gave you a confused look, asking for an explanation. “You never accept a compliment. I can tell you that you're kind, or I like your shirt, or even thank you for picking me up, and you always shrug it off. I wish you wouldn’t.”

In your few weeks of getting to know Eddie, his shyness turned into a bravado. Now that he knew you weren’t interested in ridiculing him, his feux confidence oozed into everything. You could tell he still didn’t trust you, though. If he did, he wouldn’t put up the front.

“You’re really great, Eddie,” you said earnestly.

“You’re sweet, but-”

“No buts! You’re great, I’m sweet, end of conversation,” you stopped him, putting a hand over his.

“Okay,” he couldn’t meet your eyes, biting his lip to keep from grinning wildly. “Jesus, you’re still freezing. Should we try skin to skin contact?”

There were more knitting lessons, some private concerts, and a lot of late night conversations between you and Eddie. Even though you were right across the street, he always insisted on walking you home when you were at Steve’s, which turned into talking for 20 minutes outside your door. Then, you’d gab for another hour when you called him to make sure he made it home okay.

You thought you were showing your cards too much, being a little desperate, but Eddie’s outer shell started to melt away and you began to like his presence even more. He was funny, and so endearing, you almost wished you had moved into the trailer across the way.

He came to expect your calls, but your presence on Thursday evenings were a new, surprising addition to his routine. Steve or Nancy had been taking turns picking up the younger kids from D&D at his house, and when Steve went you began to tag along.

“Okay, you shrimps are squeezing in the back,” he said, making them begin to fight on who was sitting on top of who.

“I can just drive Y/N home,” Eddie shrugged, raising his eyebrows at you for approval. You nodded and tried to keep your face neutral, your unrevealed plan having worked.

“Then why didn’t you just drive us all home?” Mike asked. Steve smiled, not hiding his teasing expression, and bid you both goodnight as he walked out of the trailer. The energy instantly leveled, and Eddie let a sigh fall from him.

“God, you’d think they all chugged a pot of coffee before they get here,” he dropped onto the couch and patted the seat next to him for you to inhabit.

“They just get excited to hang out with you,” you smiled. “Why do you think I came over?” You reached behind him for the blanket draped over the cushions.

“I actually think it’s for the opposite reason,” his tone was light. If he kept up an unserious mood while moving closer to you and brushing his leg against yours under the sheath of the blanket, then it wasn’t a big deal. It couldn’t be. “I give them all this energy and then dump them on Harrington or Nancy, and you get me at the end of the night when I’m exhausted and compliant.”

“Oh yeah, I could totally get you to do anything I wanted to right now,” you smiled. A shiver ran through your body, giving the two of you another excuse to intertwine. You pressed against each other during movies, or while in line at the crowded coffee shop, but now you were just cuddling in silence, no facade to cover up your desire to be close.

“Just give me the word,” he said, and you both knew he wasn’t joking. He was wrapped around your finger.

Hooked up with the new girl on the block, wonder where she’s been. Now I’m laughing, drinking with my friends. Body shots ‘til the party ends, yeah, did I clean up the mess? Go to hell, well, some girls just freak me out.

He didn’t know how, but Eddie knew he had royally fucked up. It had been two weeks since he spoke to you, two weeks since he touched you.

“Is this a bad idea?” you asked, putting your hands on his chest and panting slightly.

“Totally,” he nodded, holding you tightly. “I’m bad news, but you’re just plain trouble,” he leaned forward again and sealed your lips together, making you forget any hesitation you had.

You weren’t apprehensive because of the reputation Eddie carried around, it was because you value your friendship so much.

It was really, really, difficult not to be attracted to Eddie. He was so rough on the outside but so compassionate once you talked to him for more than a minute. All of his friends let you right into the group, cutting your alone time down to both of your chagrin. When he invented fake, non-refundable plans for the two of you so you could hang out alone, you suspected that he might be attracted to you, too.

You needed to be the one to ask him to hang out for the first time, and it took a bit longer before he was fully comfortable in your presence, so you weren’t shocked when you had to be the one to kiss him first. When you did, it was even better than you thought it was going to be.

The next day, when you called him to make plans again, the giddiness in both of your voices was embarrassingly childlike. Finally, though, his feelings were right on the surface for you to see.

The second, third, fourth times that you hooked up with Eddie were amazing. You were having just as incredible a time together as usual, but now with an added layer of pleasure. When you were together he was attentive, sincere, and it was far too enjoyable to be one-sided.

You began to notice that when the next morning came around, you were always the one to call him, or to make the next plans. Was all of the time spent and conversations some sort of long game for him to get in your pants? It felt like a real friendship, but how long had you actually known these people? Did you make a mistake?

The last time you hooked up, two weeks ago, you promised yourself that you weren’t going to be the one to reach out.

“God, what did we even do before this?” he asked, rolling off of you and pressing kisses to your bare shoulder.

“We did whatever friends do,” you smiled.

“Friends definitely don’t do that,” he laughed. You knew he didn’t mean it how it came out, that you weren’t friends. He just meant that you were partaking in some activities outside of the normal realm of friendship, but your insecurity was looking for something to latch on to.

“Then I guess I’ll go,” you sat up and started pulling clothes from the floor, quicker than usual. Suddenly the idea of Eddie looking at you was too personal, too vulnerable. He tried to think if you mentioned having plans or something to do and why you were rushing out of his bed.

“Are you sure? You can stay, I have nothing going on,” he shrugged. He didn’t expect a pat on the back, but he thought he was being gentlemanly with you.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, barely looking back at him.

You didn’t call after that. If he wanted to see you again, he was going to have to put forth the effort. Which he clearly didn’t, because you didn’t hear from him until you were, once again, trying to make new friends at a party.

Eddie was having the time of his life. He had been feeling so much more confident since he had started seeing you, and it pulled through to every facet of his life. He raised the band’s performance rate, stopped accepting IOU’s for drugs, and even convinced himself that surely, he’d be able to figure out how to change the oil in the van himself. The last one may have been a bit premature, but still, if someone had told him six months ago that he’d be at a party hosted by any of the former sports captains from high school, he’d have laughed in their face. Now, he was cracking jokes, not even at the expense of anyone, and people were laughing along with him, not at him.

He knew it was because of you, and the lack of contact for the last two weeks hadn’t gone unnoticed. As slowly his confidence with you grew, it was ripped away like it was never there. He was suddenly afraid to call you up, worried that if he said the wrong thing you would actually tell him that you never wanted to speak to him again. If he didn’t talk to you, you couldn’t cut him off.

Irrational, he knew. It was why Eddie came to the party in the first place, before cups of beer started being put into his hands. He hoped that if he ran into you that he’d be able to either talk out whatever he had done, or maybe you’d just forgive him if he apologized enough.

“Come on, Wheeler, you can’t deny me of this,” he wrapped his arms around Nancy’s waist and scooped her up, her screeching not doing anything to deter him.

“Eddie, no,” she laughed. “Jonathon, help!” Eddie looked back at Jonathan. He would let Nancy go if her boyfriend had a problem with it, he was not looking to sever any of the new relationships he had gotten his hands on. But the older Byers boy just continued to laugh and nod his head after seeing the smile on Nancy’s face.

“I’ll let you do one off of me, next” he bargained. She laid back on the counter Eddie set her on and lifted her sweater up until right underneath her bra.

“God, it’s cold,” she gasped as he poured liquor into the concave of her stomach.

You walked through the kitchen of the house just in time to see him lick a line up her torso and slurp against her skin.

“Hey, Y/N! Your turn, come on,” Robin tried to wave you over, but you just held up your hand and moved through quickly to get to any other room.

“Where has she been?” Nancy asked, wiping down herself and sitting up with a little help from Eddie’s supportive hand on her back.

“Yeah, what did you do to piss her off?” Robin asked.

“I didn’t do anything,” Eddie frowned, taking small sips from his cup to avoid talking.

“Uh, yeah you did. You’d be parked outside of my house, like, three nights a week, but you were never hanging out in my room,” Steve snitched. Eddie punched his arm with the minimal amount of force he had.

“Well, I really like Y/N, go clean up your mess,” Nancy demanded. He bit back the defiance on his tongue, simply from being told what to do. He knew that she was right, though. He had to repair whatever he had destroyed.

After draining what was left in his cup, he set it down on the counter and went to go search for you. You weren’t dancing in the living room, waiting on line outside of the bathroom, or hanging out in the kitchen when Eddie circled back there. In favor of opening every door on the second level, Eddie decided to try his luck outside first.

Low and behold, you were sitting on the porch swing.

“Jesus, it’s freezing out here, what are you doing?” he asked, taking off his jacket and going to drape it over your shoulders. You shook your head and scooted impossible closer to the edge of the seat. “Babe, you’re going to get frostbite.”

“Oh, go to hell,” you spat, standing up and leaning your hands on the railing and keeping your eyes trained on your shoes. He waited a few seconds with bated breath before walking up to the railing and standing a few feet away from you.

“Y/N,” he started slowly, not wanting to make you have another outburst. “Can we please talk?”

“You’re already talking,” you snapped.

“Okay, can we have a conversation, then?” he remedied. You shrugged and continued to look away from him. Eddie didn’t even know where to begin. With an apology? He didn’t know what to apologize for. He saw you shiver and extended his coat again. “Please just take my coat,” he sighed.

“I don’t want your damn coat,” you frowned.

“Then what do you want, Y/N? You’re not saying anything and I’m left in the lurch, here!” He was desperate at this point.

The first few days that he didn’t get a phone call from you, he admittedly barely noticed. Between carting the kids around, driving an hour and a half each way to get a specific brand of guitar strings, and picking up extra shifts with Uncle Wayne, he was a busy guy these days. By the time day 5 rolled around, he needed some serious relaxation time and was really planning on giving you a call, but then he fell asleep. And then before he knew it it had been a week.

When Steve said he hadn’t heard you, or when he drove by and your blinds snapped shut, he figured something was up.

“Please, just tell me how to fix this.”

“How to fix what, Eddie? It’s not a relationship. So what is there to fix?” you asked.

You thought of the facts before you made the decision to kiss Eddie. You had found a real comfort in each other. You made each other laugh, kept each other company. And he couldn’t ignore the fact that you didn’t have 17 years that the rest of the town had to influence what you thought of him, which he expressed to you. The thought that maybe you were his only option ate away at you. What happened when someone else new came into town? Would he drop you when there was a shiny new toy available?

“What do you mean, there’s you and me,” he stepped closer and you didn’t shy away. Progress.

“Don’t you get it, Eddie? There is no you and me. There’s just you, and just me. We weren’t exactly friends, according to you.” It all clicked. He was such a fucking idiot.

“Oh, God,” he put his head in his hands and tried to think how he could be so stupid. “When I said- I didn’t mean- Y/N, of course we’re friends. More than friends, there’s something here, I thought it was obvious so I didn’t say it.” He felt the familiar soft touch of your fingers on his wrist, pulling them away from his face.

Eddie looked at you and instantly half of your anger dissolved.

“That made me feel really shitty, what you said,” you finally confessed to him. “I felt dismissed a-and cheap, and worst of all used.”

“I’m so sorry, I never meant to do that.” If it weren’t for the way he was tenderly holding your hand or so visibly having to hold himself back from embracing you, you would’ve thought it was a line.

“I care about you and if you want a label or a definition I will give that to you right now. You’ve been the best thing about the last six months,” he said, making the other half of your anger fly out of the window. The validation was freeing, knowing that he felt the same way that you did.

“I don’t need that, Eddie-”

“Fine, but I want it,” he said, grabbing onto your shoulders. “I’m not asking you to start over, because I don’t want to throw it all away. You’re really important to me.” You were nodding along with him, letting the words go right from his mouth to your heart.

“Eddie,” you said softly, and he stopped right away. Whatever you had to say he would absorb wholly. But you didn’t say anything at all, just leaned forward and kissed him. He whined in relief and his knees went weak, leaning back against the porch railing to support himself and you.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled against you. You pulled away and saw that he kept his eyes closed, but wasn’t letting go of you.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I should have just talked to you.” Eddie shook his head and finally looked into your eyes.

“Come home with me, please? I only came here to find you,” he admitted. You nodded and were going to say that you came to the party with similar intentions, even if they were subconscious, but the front door swung open before you could.

“Just checking to make sure Y/N didn’t murder you,” Robin stood in the doorway with a smile on her face, seeing you cuddled up to each other. “Come on, the night is young!” She grabbed your hand and pulled you inside. You smiled back at Eddie and he followed after you, not wanting to be without you for another second.

She’s the sweetest, the sweetest thing but I know she’s no good for me. Gonna take you home and take off your clothes, Baby, I’m nothing but bad news.

“I wish you two had never made up, you’re disgusting!” It was weeks later, and you and Eddie were more likely to be found in another country than without the big, goofy smiles that had been on your faces since you had made up and officially gotten together. At first, it was sweet, and everyone was happy that you were happy; but lately your affection was met with groans of overexposure.

Eddie pulled his face away from where it was nuzzled into your neck and glared at Steve, who had a pinched look on his face. Uncle Wayne got his hands on the half-priced groceries that were about to expire, and insisted that Eddie invite his friends over to help eat it all.

As happy as he was to see Eddie with a nice group of friends, he was even happier when you became a fixture at the trailer.

“Jealous, Harrington?” he asked, squeezing your ass through your jeans and pulling a giggle from you.

“No, I am not jealous, I am trying to keep down my lunch,” he complained, leaning back and looking away.

“It’s cute,” Max said, kicking the leg of his chair and making him falter. “Plus, it shuts him up.”

“I am going to ignore that. But, seriously, how do you expect me to keep my hands off of her? She’s so sweet,” Eddie scraped his teeth along your cheek and you pushed him away, ticklish.

“Stop,” you smiled, although you all knew you didn’t mean it.

“I’m with Steve, this is scarring,” Dustin frowned. Eddie pushed his hands up your shirt and rested them on your bare skin.

“Let me kick them out,” he begged. You didn’t, but were relieved when they left a while later. You and Eddie rushed around, cleaning up their mess so Wayne wouldn’t have to. When you were finally done and flopped down on the couch, he walked inside. You were itching, now, to touch Eddie the way he was unafraid to when your friends were around. After Wayne went into the bathroom to wash up, you pulled him close.

“Can we go to my house?” you whispered. He was going to ask why, but when you started to pull at his collar and rub your nose against his throat he understood.

“I thought you were tired?” he hummed, intently listening for the shower to shut off while you started to kiss his neck.

“Never too tired to take your clothes off,” you said, making his stomach flip.

“Baby, you’re bad news,” he took a deep breath and let you pull him up off the couch and towards the door. He called out a goodbye to his uncle before tripping over his feet after you as if you had him on a leash.

Yeah, you still freaked him out.

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