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#You just know he forgets about everything the minute he sees Eddie go down. He loses his fucking mind. Everything just stops
sp0o0kylights · 10 months
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Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 
They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 
His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 
This is his golden ticket. 
The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 
He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.
 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.
No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 
He's fucked. 
He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 
 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 
If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.
Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 
"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 
Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)
"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 
Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 
"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 
Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 
"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.
Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 
Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 
Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 
Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 
The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.
Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 
("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 
Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 
Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 
"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 
Eddie flipped him off.) 
One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.
No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 
Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!
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munsster · 11 months
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brain like a sieve
A/N: i am on a MAD ONE with the way im writing. she has motivation and inspiration and fingers of STEEL. (gif creds: @neblisi )
Pairings: Eddie Munson x GN!Reader
Summary: Eddie’s on top of the world when you tell him you love him. So much so, in fact, that he forgets to say it back. 0.8k words
Warnings: established relationship, kissing, fluff, insecurity, obliviousness, pet names (bunny, bug, lovebug), ONE half swear word (i SWEAR it took so much self control, i dont know how i limited myself)
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You’ve got this fiery look in your eye right before you say it that distracts him.
“I love you, Eddie.”
And your hair is wild and your hands are wound into the collar of his shirt and he can’t help but wonder what divine force of nature got him here. Made him so lucky.
And in the midst of everything: Eddie forgets to say it back.
He kisses you sweetly and holds you at the waist, drinking in the way you look at him and tug him closer. But he still doesn’t say it back. A minute passes, and everything settles and he thinks you’re beautiful and you love him, and he forgot to say it back.
You go home in a frenzy. Why didn’t he say it back? You can barely do your laundry without running the conversation over in your head. Did you do something wrong? You think you’ll wait a week, give it time, maybe he’ll call and say it. Maybe he’s still processing it. Does he not love you back? You end up waiting two days before calling him in the middle of the night.
“Okay! We can talk, lovebug. Why don’t you come over tomorrow night? I’ll order takeout.”
You can hear Eddie’s smile through the phone, completely unfazed by the ungodly hour and by the confusion and hurt in your voice. Your eyes go wide, and you slowly nod.
“Yeah… that works,” you say.
“Alright, I’ll see you then.”
But you’re still confused. He spoke and smiled like nothing was the matter. Like you hadn’t been down on your knees with devoted confession for him. Maybe he just didn’t hear you. Except you know he heard you because you said it in the rest between laughter and conversation and the way he gave you a soft smile meant he had to have heard you.
“I brought cupcakes.” You stand on his porch steps, shivering from the cold, wind licking your face and threatening to blow you off your feet. Eddie grins and takes the plate from you, grabbing your hand and leading you to the kitchen. He sets the soft yellow platter down beside the bags of takeout and whips around to leer at you like a big cat.
“Hi, bunny,” he whispers. And you’re already flustered.
Eddie smiles because he knows and plants one on you like you’ve never kissed before. Like it hasn’t been his favorite pastime the entire time he’s known you. Despite how stone-faced you told yourself you’d be, you crumple into temptation and whine when he pulls away.
Moments later, you’re both perched on his bed, facing each other while he’s smiling and poking at your knee.
“So…” Eddie says, batting his lashes.
“So?”
“Well, you said you wanted to talk—”
“Oh”—you press a hand to your face and take a deep breath—“I know, I’m just… okay… d’you remember the other day? We were cracking jokes on your bed and messing around in general and…”
“Yeah, I remember.” He inches ever closer, tugging at the sleeve of your coat like a needy cat. Because you don’t know how distracted he had gotten all while thinking about how pretty you looked. How pretty your laugh is and how he doesn’t know where he’d be if he didn’t have you.
“And then I said…”—you sigh—“I mean, I told you I love you, and you didn’t… say anything—”
And as if all of the blood had been drained from his face, he goes ghost-pale in embarrassment. He feels nauseous and panicked.
“Oh my God! Bug! I love you, I love you, I do, I’m—oh my God, I got completely distracted, I’m mortified, I swear, I—”
You feel relief, yet your voice is still small when you ask:
“Distracted? Distracted by what…?”
“Well”—and it makes him shy owning up to his conscience like this—“you were laughin’ so hard and… and then I snorted which made you laugh even harder and I was thinking… ‘bout how beautiful you looked smiling so wide, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. And you said you loved me and I was on cloud nine. You were grabbing me and you looked like you could cry from laughing and I wanted to kiss you and I love you. And I’m sorry I got distracted.”
Your jaw unclenches and you sit there for a second, blinking at him in disbelief and yet complete understanding.
Then you tackle him, pin him to the bed with a yelp. And once he’s done wriggling, he’s scared for his life with how furious you look pressing him down like this.
“Eddie Munson!”
“Don’t be mad at me, please! Because I love you—”
“Shut up,” you say, grinning when he cups your face and swipes his thumb across your cheek.
“I do. I lo—”
“Shh, precious few words, Eddie.”
“Too bad, that sucks, I’m completely in love with you,” he huffs, “Now say it back.”
You grin and you look like you could bite a chunk out of him right about now. And he’s pretty sure he prefers it that way when you say:
“…I love you.”
“Damn right.”
masterlist
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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months
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twenty four hours (modern eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR TWENTY ONE
in which you try everything you can to make eddie feel better after his encounter with chrissy - to make him forget, to make him feel cherished, to make him feel worthy.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, a single use of Y/N, smut (p in v), oral (m receiving), voyeurism, edging, good old fashioned ball worship if you squint, maybe some sub!eddie if you squint even harder, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 7.3k+
→ a/n: shout out to @hellfire--cult for the balcony idea. i knew i'd get them there at some point, little freaks. and everyone say thank you to @icallhimjoey for the early post 😏
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
21:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00
HOUR TWENTY ONE - 12:00 PM
STEVE-O: why do you guys suck so much at providing photographic proof of being alive? seriously
You’ve been staring at Steve’s text ever since the two of you arrived back at the apartment. You’d reply soon enough, but for now, the message was a distraction.
Eddie wasn’t speaking to you.
Not in a brooding sense, but in a way that let you know he was too far gone in his own head right now for you to reach him. When you’d said those words to him, when you’d admitted that you found him worth it, you saw his eyes glaze over slowly. You’d watched in real time as he slipped away from you. It might be that he doesn’t believe you, it might be guilt that continues to gnaw at him for a past that can’t be changed — whatever it is, you hate it.
The easy solution would be to send Steve the photos from the cafe, but you’d already tried that. Your thumb had hovered over that photo of Eddie with a mouthful of croissant, still bright and brilliant before all his waves of self-hatred had gotten ahold of him, and you just couldn’t. It was selfish, it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t share that piece of him with others. Some small, childish, hopeless bit of you needed to cling to the man in that photo and keep him safely inside your chest. It wasn’t a new version to your friends, they’ve always tried to defend Eddie and convince you he wasn’t all bad, but it was new to you. It was all so unexpected and unforeseen, the look behind his golden eyes as he seemingly looked right past the camera and right into you. 
No, you couldn’t send that photo. It was for your eyes only. A souvenir you had greedily stolen. 
Eddie had excused himself to the bathroom when you two arrived at the apartment, and this time, there was no dirty intentions behind it. You left well enough alone — he needed a moment to be by himself and that was fine. You could entertain yourself until he was ready to come back to you, back down to Earth. Right now, you were currently picking apart an almond croissant as if it were the most interesting thing you’d ever laid eyes on. 
Croissant dissection — see? You absolutely could distract yourself in order to give him space. Absolutely no sarcasm there.
You finally sigh when you see a message bubble pop up with three little dots, signifying Steve is typing again. You don’t give him the time to properly finish out his message before you click on your camera icon, snap a shot of the picked apart croissant in front of you, and send a message with the image attached.
YOU: we were eating breakfast, eddie’s been in the bathroom. happy, mom?
STEVE-O: he’s been in the bathroom for an entire hour? 
YOU: oh, you know how you men get with toilet time. 
Despite the playful tone of your texts, your face is completely flat, chest still heavy as you think about Eddie behind the wooden door. Should you be giving Eddie this amount of space? What if it’s doing more damage than good?
You’re about to stand from the stool you’ve occupied for nearly ten minutes now and go try your hand at knocking, try and remind Eddie that you’re still here, when Steve’s next text comes through. 
STEVE-O: stop bullshitting me. what happened? 
You swear you taste metallic blood from how hard you bite down on your bottom lip, staring at the mocking message. You can’t even begin to explain to Steve what has transpired, not just this last hour, but the entirety of the time. The parking garage, the joking marriage, Chrissy showing up, Eddie’s painful vulnerability – you can’t find the words to tell him about any of it. The same as you can’t find it in you to send the photo of Eddie in Betty’s. 
YOU: nothing happened. do you need any more proof than that?
He only reacts to your message with a thumbs up. You assume that means you’re in the clear, for now. 
When you exit your thread of messages with Steve, a new thread that has been started catches your eye. It’s a new number, no contact on it. The only message sent is from you – the photo of you with your coffee, head thrown back and eyes shut with a wide smile boosting your cheeks. 
Eddie’s phone number. 
You look at the photo of yourself for a while, trying to not cringe at your appearance. To you, you just looked ridiculous. You don’t understand why Eddie wanted this photo preserved so badly. Your smile is too wide, your eyes are mere slits from the way your cheeks were squishing up with joy, most of your makeup you’d started the night with has long since faded due to a multitude of activities. You don’t feel like anything special in this photo.
But Eddie had wanted it. He had deemed this moment in time of you as picture-worthy, had gone so far as to send it to himself so that he’d have this memory even if you deleted it from your phone. 
Before you think too hard on it, you tap on that line of numbers and add a proper contact profile to it. 
EDDIE. You keep the contact name simple, eager to get it out of the way as you move onto the next step. A contact photo. You don’t even have to ponder on it – in a flash, you’ve selected the picture of him with the croissant. 
You’re back on the thread of messages – or, at least, the singular message – and don’t stop yourself as your thumbs begin to fly over your keyboard.
YOU: why were the almond croissants almost sold out? 
To be fair, you didn’t even know if Eddie had his phone on him. That green message stares back at you for a few moments before you get your answer. 
EDDIE: Excuse me? 
He has his phone. You lift your head, looking at the closed door of the bathroom before glancing back down at your phone. 
YOU: because everyone went NUTS over them. 
You perk your ears and listen for any sign of life from down the hall. Anything. A scoff, a pitiful laugh, him calling you stupid aloud. You’ll take whatever he offers. 
It takes a moment, and you truly have to strain to hear it, but you can hear the laugh that would better pass as a sigh. 
EDDIE: Is that supposed to be a joke? 
YOU: ‘supposed to be’. excuse me, it was definitely a joke. and a very good one, at that. 
EDDIE: Debatable. 
You find yourself smiling down at the phone. Your neck aches from the way you keep glancing up suddenly at the door, silently pleading for him to come back out. To come out and fight with you, come out and bicker with you, come out and ignore you. Anything, for him to leave the bathroom and do anything but keep that door shut between you two. 
He doesn’t, so you send another bad joke. 
YOU: what did the customer say when they looked at the croissant? 
This time, he plays along. 
EDDIE: I don't know, what? 
YOU: what a BREADtaking sight. 
This time, you hear a more proper scoff come from within the bathroom. 
YOU: i heard that. don’t even try to tell me it wasn’t funny. 
EDDIE: I’m not laughing because they’re funny. I’m laughing because they’re BAD. 
YOU: bet you wouldn’t say that to my face. 
Immediately, you discard the phone, facedown on the counter as you look up to the door with unbridled hope. He could always ignore the comment, choose to not respond and continue to sulk away from you. It’s entirely possible – but you pray to every star in the sky that that isn’t what he’s going to do. 
Please come back out. Please, even if just to sit in silence with me. 
Your prayers are answered.
Slowly, painfully slowly, you hear shuffling on the other side of the door and await for the click of the door unlocking. It never comes, though – the door was never locked in the first place. He opens it, and you realize that the entire time, you could have stormed into the small room with him and demanded that he not hide away.
But you didn’t. You gave him space, gave him patience, and it’s clear he knows this as he comes out. 
His eyes are red. As if he’s been crying. 
“Hi,” you meekly say, taking in his face past those red-rimmed eyes. The tip of his nose is a fading shade of pink, as if he’s been rubbing it incessantly, and he sniffs for good measure as he turns the bathroom light off and walks to where you are. 
“Hi,” his voice is rough around the edges as he greets you back. He won’t look you in the eye once he’s within reach – his gaze remains downcast, and you catch him fiddling with a few of his rings. 
You hadn’t considered what you would do if you got this far. In every carefully considered scenario, you’d assumed he’d shut you out. You never expected him to come straight to you, as if seeking out comfort from you, without you having to beg it of him. 
His eyes catch the croissants on the counter, torn apart and lazily picked at. He’s about to open his mouth and say something about it, probably questioning what you had done to the poor pastry, but you don’t give him a chance. You’re quick to snatch up one of the pieces you’d been picking apart to snack on for yourself and hold it out to him. An olive branch, an offering – a reason for him to sit and stay for a while with you. 
He takes it tentatively, finally looking you in your eye again as he takes a small bite. It’s nothing compared to the bite he had taken when you’d snapped the photo of him, mere crumbs compared to that mouthful. 
“Did you just… massacre our croissants?” he questions, squinting his eyes down at the crime scene. 
You shift your body jokingly, failing at blocking him from seeing the mess you made, “Absolutely not. I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 
He almost cracks a grin, “Right. Of course. I must be imagining things.” 
“Wanna hear another pun?” you blurt out, suddenly nervous as he continues to stand before you. You hate the incessant need inside of your chest that calls for you to comfort him, to make this all better for him. 
“I feel like you’ll tell me one even if I say no,” he raises an eyebrow at you, “So, sure.” 
“Why did the croissant go to the doctor?”
He hums, trying to peer over your shoulder again at the croissants you were badly hiding, “Let me guess. Is it because you tore it apart mercilessly?” 
“No,” you scoff, reaching behind you to grab another piece to offer to him as well as one of your own, “It was because he was feeling crummy, dumb ass.” 
A crack of a smile. It’s miniscule but there. It makes that terrible pun worth it, just to see him not looking quite as defeated is worth all the stars in the sky at this point for you. 
You’d certainly been the reason for his unhappiness in the past, and you surely would be again at some point. It all feels so inevitable; just as he believes that he can only bring you misery, you can’t imagine yourself bringing him joy. A belief that strikes something in your chest, something albeit more painful than you’d care to admit, but it’s true. You’ve crossed a line, you’ve changed everything, but the past still remains. 
You aren’t perfect. Neither is Eddie.
Heartbreak is imminent, but for this brief moment, you can make him smile. You don’t need to worry about the next time you’ll piss him off or upset him, you just need to focus on making that twitch on his lips more permanent. 
“I meant what I said earlier, by the way,” you decide to rip off the bandaid as he moves as if to sit beside you. Quickly, your words make him freeze. A bad sign, but you push through, because he needs to hear these things, “You deserve good things, Eddie. Good people, good things- you just… you deserve those things in your life.” 
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
He’s turning away from you. Turning and heading to the living room, walking away from you.
You don’t let him. In an instant, you get onto your feet and follow him, continuing despite him acting as if he’s finished with the conversation. You’re not.
“You’re a good person, Eddie,” you insist, reaching out for him before he makes it to the couch, “Don’t walk away from me.”
He spins easily in your grip. “Just because you say something, doesn’t make it true, sweetheart.”
He’s back to saying it like a curse. Like it’s a harmful title. As if it’s not a privilege to you and all your metaphors to hear that nickname fall from his lips. 
Right before your eyes, his defenses are on the rise. Brick by brick, he’s slowly reforming those walls to separate the two of you. Instead of defeat, instead of acceptance, it just makes you angry.
“Stop doing that,” you say quietly, carefully, firmly.
“Stop doing what?”
“That. Pushing me away. Locking me out,”  you tighten your hand on his bicep and watch the way his nostrils flare, “I fucking hate it.”
“Despite what you believe,” he takes a step closer to you, “Not everything I do is meant to piss you off.” 
“That’s not what I’m saying, and we both know it,” you can feel his muscles tense beneath your touch.
This time, his smile that emerges is cold. But you can still see the rubbage left by his tears — pink water lines and a new puffiness around his eyes. His words and his sudden cool demeanor can’t hurt you when you see it for what it is.
“Clearly we both don’t know it,” he chastised you, “We are very rarely on the same page. This isn’t a damn exception. You don’t have to prove your point, it doesn’t matter.”
He’s a wounded animal, striking out. He’s letting Chrissy’s words get to him.
“You’re worth i-“
“Don’t,” One of his hands shoot out to grip your waist, “Don’t fucking say that. Please. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” 
He didn’t believe you. 
“I meant it,” you whisper, anger shaking out of your grasp inch by inch as you realize that your words can’t break through to him, “I mean it. You’re worth it, to me, to St-“
“This isn’t about Steve,” he cuts you off, “It’s not about Steve, or Nancy, or Robin, or fucking Argyle. No need to play dumb anymore.” 
It’s about you.
You both know it. For once, contradictory to what he’d just claimed, you’re both on the same page. And like he said, no need to play dumb. 
“You’re worth it to me,” you say it with more confidence this time, “You’re a good person to me.” 
“How can you say that?” he laughs out, void of amusement, “How can you say shit like that after everything we’ve been through?”
How can you not?
You only squeeze his bicep tighter, and he returns the action by gripping your hip harsher. “Because I mean it. I believe it. Whether you do or not.” 
For a moment, the cracks in his armor expose themselves. 
“You shouldn’t,” his voice should waver, “You shouldn’t believe those things, Y/N. You should hate me.” 
“But I don’t,” And I never did.
“But you don’t,” he echoes.
You’ve done the opposite of what you had wanted. His smile is gone, that sadness creeping back up. You hate that. You don’t hate him — you hate that world of mourning behind his eyes, that defeat that brings his shoulders down and makes his grip on you falter. So you do the only thing you can think of to distract him. Make him forget.
“Make me hate you.” 
His eyes widen briefly, “Excuse me?”
“Make me hate you,” you practically beg of him, “Show me why you’re such a bad person and I’ll let this go. I’ll drop the conversation, we can- Fuck, we can forget this entire morning happened. Make me hate you, Eddie, and I’ll stop reminding you that I don’t.” 
His fingers curl back into you, slowly and gently, as his brows furrow. He’s considering what you’ve just said — more than that, you can see him trying to untangle all the hidden meanings behind it.
“And how do you suggest I do that?” his voice is low and calculated. 
You shrug, stepping forward, letting your lips get even closer to his, “Not my problem. Just make me.” 
The fingers are no longer gentle as he pulls you into him, finally catching onto the emphasis you place on those two little words.
Make me.
When his lips meet yours, they’re rough and brutal, taking greedily what they want from you. The only thing on your mind is making him forget. Make him forget, carry the load for him — they’re both more important than making him smile for now. Both these driving needs burn brighter in your chest because it’s clear that’s what he needs. 
You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now.
“You want me to make you hate me, baby?” he mumbled against your lip, practically drinking in the way you gasp as he starts to pull back, “Is that really what you want?”
It’s what you want. “Yes.” 
And maybe you do too, when he leans back in to bite your lip. There will be another time for you to convince him with words that you find him to be worth it. Both hands from wrap around you and rough start to guide you back towards that fucking couch.
“Not the couch,” you suddenly protest, digging your heels into the carpet at the center of his living room, “Anywhere but the couch.” 
And oh, the way he’s looking at you in that moment might be your new favorite thing. Your new favorite color is his eyes as they sparkle with a bit of life that had been missing since the coffee shops encounter. Your new favorite sound is the silence that encases the little breath he lets out. Your new favorite movie is watching him move in slow motion as his eyes dart behind you, towards the door to his balcony, before his lips finally curl up with a hint of the genuine warmth that had been hidden behind his walls.
“Anywhere?” he teases, beginning to walk you backwards.
You nod, grinning right back at him.
“I think I have an idea.” 
If you had known twenty one hours ago that Eddie Munson, your sworn enemy, would have you out on his public balcony and on your knees for him in only a matter of time, past you would have….
Well, you don’t really care what past you would have done or thought anymore. You’re making him forget, yes, all while making yourself forget. You don’t care what you, twenty one hours ago, would or wouldn’t do as you let the past slip through your fingers so eagerly. All you can focus on is the dig of concrete against your knees, the way Eddie’s hands grip the railing as he leans against it, and the way the early afternoon sun forms a halo around him as you look up through fluttering lashes.
You just want to make him feel good. Every action is intentional, doing everything in your power to erase whatever storming thoughts had been haunting him so cruelly since Chrissy had so carelessly said what she had. You want to make him feel worthy. You want to make him feel loved.
Loved. You certainly didn’t love him — you couldn’t possibly, could you? He wouldn’t let you. You wouldn’t let yourself. But for now, you could play pretend; you could worship his body, drag his shirt out of the way and place playful kisses across his hips, and you could pretend that only this moment exists. 
“You wanna know what makes me such a bad person?” he sighs out as you let your teeth graze his skin, shoulders rolling to shake off that shiver you elicit from him, “This. The fact that this is all I can fucking think about.”
“Hm,” you can only hum in response, nails taking over the denim of the jeans he currently wore. You walk your fingers up his thighs, moving closer and closer to his zipper. Your mouth is nearly watering at the prospect of worshiping him. 
And the fact that any neighbor could walk out at any given moment and catch the two of you. You should probably insist on it being fast, on him being quiet, but the thought sends a thrill through the pit of your stomach. Your thighs clench and your cunt aches at the thought of being caught. 
You want to do more than make him bite back mere moans of your name. You want to make him scream.
Suddenly, a hand tangles into the roots of your hair, pulling back and making you focus on him again.
“Eyes on me,” he instructs. Once you focus on him and only him, he continues, loosening his grip and letting those fingertips rub at your scalp soothingly, “You know why you should hate me? For all the nights I pictured this.”
“Yeah?” you smile innocently, playing along. He can talk all he wants, you know once you get your mouth on him, he’ll be lucky to remember his own name. “How many nights, hm? Tell me all about them, pretty boy.”
You catch the wobble in his knees, the way his breathing picks up, the brilliant shade of ivory his knuckles stretch to. You lean back on your haunches, and the hand in your hair slips as he glowers down at you. 
“What are you-”
“Take off your shirt,” you calmly command.
“Excuse me?” 
“Your shirt. I want it off.”
His hand that was once tangled against your scalp now comes down to your face, movement slow but not hesitant as he pinches your chin. His thumb tugs on your bottom lip, and you let out, even making a show of letting your tongue peek out to tap at it. “And who said you were calling the shots?” 
“I did,” you put it simply, completely removing your hands from him now, “Take off the shirt, or I’ll leave you out here with blue balls.” 
You close your lips around the end of his thumb and his knuckles dig in deeper to the skin below your chin as you suck subtly. He chuckles, but you can hear just how breathless he goes at the small action, even as he keeps up the act with a hard press of his thumb on your lower lip. Your mouth hangs open for him, waiting patiently for his next move. 
A game of chess, an exchange of power, a fight for dominance. All the lines of who is and isn’t in control are blurred. 
“Have you always been so mean, baby?” he taunts, trailing what spit you’d left behind on his thumb along your lip. 
His movement stops when your lips spread into a provocative smile, “I learned from the best, didn’t I?” 
The retort had potential to backfire. You wait for smoke and glory, for him to pull away from you further. He’d slam down a brick right in front of your face, lay the mortar to leave you high and dry. He’d push you away, and you’d have to retreat, tail tucked between your legs in the shame of trying when it came to him. 
No smoke, no glory. He secedes, but makes no move to add to his walls, only removing his hand from your face and taking off the shirt. Just as you had told him to. 
“Better?” he asks as he makes a show of tossing the shirt to the other side of the balcony. It could have even flown over the railing, for all you paid attention to the scrap of clothing. Maybe some innocent bystander is on the streets below, confused to all Hell as to why it’s raining obscure band t-shirts. 
You’re just a bit too distracted to consider that right now. 
With Eddie’s torso revealed, all words seem to evade you. You catch the sweat beginning to gather across his sternum, watching the way he’s flushing beneath your gaze, reveling in the pink chest exposed to you as the blush crawls wider. Instantly, your original purpose is forgotten, the primal urge to pepper kisses and bites alike across his skin almost lifting you up off your sore knees. You want to leave bruises – you want to make him scream, you want to mark him up, you want to make him feel worthy. 
You stay on your knees, but compromise with all your wants as you lift up and stretch a bit. Your lips start their trail a bit lower than you (or Eddie) would have liked, taking their time to get familiar with the spanse of his rib cage first. You don’t nip with teeth, not yet. Just chaste kisses, lining each bone you can hardly feel residing beneath the skin, feeling his lungs expanding against your affection. Your tongue swipes alongside one of his side tattoos, a large and detailed dragon you hadn’t paid much mind to before. Every time you’d seen him shirtless, you’d been a bit distracted.
Not now. Now, you’re focused, determined to learn every curve and dip there is to explore on Eddie. You want to know him better than the back of your hands, memorize him more intricately than your own palms. After all, in order to worship a deity, you must know them. 
You return back to the center line of his abdomen, kisses chasing after one another, even taking the time to suck his skin between your teeth but never bite down. You pause once your lips rest right beneath his navel, the tip of your nose brushing that rough patch of hair that leads down to your end destination. Your hands reach for his belt, toying with the buckle.
Through heavy lashes, you look up at him, staring down at you in awe, “You know, you’re not doing a very good job at making me hate you, pretty boy. Think I might just have to worship you instead.”
A deity of your own making. A deity for your own taking. 
With skill, your hands undo the buckle effortlessly. You unbutton and unzip his jeans as if you’ve done this part a million times, as if you’d spent every single Sunday of the last year right here and doing exactly this. On your knees, worshiping him. This balcony, for all its exposure, certainly knows how to serve as a holy place. 
He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re impatient. You still haven’t left him speechless, meaning you still hadn’t made your point, clearly. 
His jeans hang loosely as they creep down his thighs, abandoned for a moment as you occupy your mouth against his hips. The hips you once thought would look so pretty properly decorated. You decide you were wrong – they don’t need ink burying into the skin, they need your teeth digging in. 
You cover that skin with mirroring images of bursts of purple and pink, flowering bruises that you take your time to mark onto him. With each suck and bite, Eddie rolls his hips into you, head leaned back and throat straining with each moan he swallows down. 
With the last hickey finished, you finally lean back, proud of your masterpiece as Eddie whimpers above you. Blooms in the shape of your lips mingle with faint and quickly fading teeth marks. 
“Fuck,” he gasps out when your fingertip stops trailing over your markings and comes down to apply the softest pressure over the straining bulge in his boxers. 
“What was it that you said earlier?” your finger traces over where you know a vein is – you know it because you’ve felt it, been driven insane by it – before circling around the wet patch now forming. He’s desperate, hips bucking again and a moan finally escaping. You think he’s bitten his lips hard enough in an attempt at self-restraint that they might be bleeding, “You said I’m not calling the shots, right?” 
“You’re not,” he pathetically grits out, hands forming tighter fists on metal railing, as if the moment he lets go of it they’ll find their way home to you. 
You lean forward, breath washing over his crotch before you place a feathery kiss to his clothed tip, “I’m not?” 
You are. You both know you are. A constant battle of control, an ever-growing fight for dominance. 
He lets out something crossed between a sigh of relief and a whine of protest when you remove your lips and hand from him completely, only to let out a sharp yelp when your finger curls into the waistband of his boxers and pulls back the elastic, letting it snap back into place sharply. 
“Say I am,” you barter, “Say I’m in control right now, and I’ll put my money where my mouth is.” 
You don’t expect him to break so easily. You’ve underestimated just how tightly you’ve caught him beneath your thumb.
“You’re in control,” he gasps out, head hanging low to meet your gaze fully, “You’re in complete and utter fucking control of me. You’re calling all the shots, baby. You always are.” 
He didn’t have to sweeten it up with baby, but it spurs you on. 
You shove his boxers down, watching his cock spring out for the taking. And you do as you promised; you put your money where your mouth is.
You start softly, taking your time as you gingerly suck on his pretty pink tip as you had his thumb. Hardly hollowing your cheeks, letting your tongue circle his slit to gather up the precum. You let the taste of him completely cover your tongue, even hum in satisfaction when he lets out a loud groan. It motivates you, feeds your fervor as you let his tip fall from your mouth and trail the tip of your tongue down the underside of his cock. That vein you’d traced with your fingertip, yours for the taking, covered in a faint line of saliva as you let it rest on your forehead and graze your lips against his ballsack. 
He can’t hide his shiver, even as his fist flies to his mouth to bite down on. 
“Have I ever told you how cute you are?” you say low enough for just him. You can hear the sounds of traffic, a dog barking, birds singing — all reminders of the outside world and the looming threat of being caught. Warmth floods you again at the reminder of that threat, thighs clenching closer together in a desperate search of friction, “Just falling apart for me, acting so tough for so long until I got you alone.” 
He whimpers your name. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.
You wrap your lips around the sensitive skin, sucking and pecking away on one side before moving to the next. His reaction throttles your movements. When his hand loses the fight of resistance, coming down to the back of your head, you laugh breathlessly against the now wet skin. 
“Let me make you feel just how worthy you are to me,” you praise, pulling back finally, letting your nose brush against his sack as you do so. The hand that was once merely resting now tangles up in your hair — a warning. 
You let the velvet skin of his cock drag down your cheek as each movement is deliberate, taking your time and in no rush. You want to savor him like this. Imprint him to memory. 
You want to make him forget while making yourself remember. 
You want to remember the way his hand flexes at the base of your skull when you finally kiss his tip once more, remember the way his abdomen tenses as you sink him further into your mouth. You want to remember every little sound that escapes him as he hits the back of your throat, as you constrict around him, as you moan around his base and the vibrations have him slipping out of control. 
Your nails dig into his thighs to balance yourself, eyes watering as you look up at him. One subtle nod. He doesn’t need more than that.
Your jaw goes slack, trying to steady your breathing through your nose as you let him take control. His hips thrust at their own pace, gentle enough that he only grazes the back of your throat rather than bruise it. The issue is you want him to bruise it. You want him to mark you from the inside out. Until there’s no part of you left untouched by him. 
You gag again, and he slows. Your fingers that grip his thighs immediately tap against him, and he mistakes it as a signal to pull back completely before you chase after him, pressing him onto your tongue until your lips are snug around his cock a mere inch from the base. Your nose is grazing those pubes in the dead center of all your love marks. Shapes of semi-permanent scars that whisper, you’re worth it to me. I want this. I want you. 
The last thing on his mind was Chrissy Cunningham and her words alluding to him not being worth it. 
You make sure of it when you finally release him from your mouth and begin to pump with an eager fist, ducking down and returning to pay attention to his balls once more. You nuzzle the soft skin, let the tips of your canines graze them before you suck them onto your tongue as you’d done his cock. He’s no longer containing his moans – they flow freely along with curse words, chants of your name, sounds you’d love to capture and play on repeat until the end of your days. 
“Oh my God,” he groans out particularly loudly, “Fuck, baby. J-Just like that, please- Fuck. You’re doing so good for me. Such a good girl, just for me.” 
Your hand is still wrapped around him, slowly coming up to squeeze hard around the tip as you whisper up to him, “Only for you.” 
“Yeah? Only for me?” 
You don’t know how to explain to him that it’s true: you’re only ever that mean for him, you’re only ever this eager for him, you’re only ever this desperate for him. 
You don’t answer him with words. There are none. Instead, you take him back in your mouth, and you solely focus on bringing your deity to climax. The man you were worshiping, the man who was worth the ache in your knees that surely told you they would be left bruised, if not skinned. 
“Is it just like you imagined?” you question as you break your lips off him. He’s close, leaking precum excessively and entire body taut, “Was it worth it? To picture this, to want this so badly?” 
He almost can’t answer you, but somehow manages between pants, “It was. It is. You’re- fuck, you’re worth it.” 
“Good,” you drop your hand from him, leaving him right on the edge as you rest both sticky palms on the tops of your thighs. You look up at him with relinquished control – the perfect image of submission, for him. “Then you get it. When I say you’re worth it, you get it.” 
He’s clearly still reeling from you bringing him so close only to leave him hanging, teetering on a cliff as he stares you down. 
His chest heaves as he questions, “What was it you wanted me to do earlier?” A deceiving hand comes down, tucking any baby hairs behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. One moment, his thumb is stroking a soft arch beneath your eye, the next that hand is pulling you up, “Make you?”
You know that if you hadn’t been so eager to follow his touch, you’d still be on your knees. Even as you watch him take the reins, you know you will always call the shots – just like he had said. 
“You really think you can make me hate you?” you whisper once you’re standing tall in front of him, leaning your cheek into his touch.
“I shouldn’t have to make you hate me,” he corrects, the thumb back to gentle strokes, loosening the touch to be more tender once again, “You should already hate me.” 
“Why?” 
He flips positions immediately, your lower back now curving into the railing as he presses himself up against you, his achingly hard cock between your bodies, “Because of this. Because I always want you on your knees for me. Because of all the fucking filth I want to do to you. I want to bend you over, right here, and take you where anyone could see. I want to have you screaming my name loud enough that every single person on the streets of this city hears you.”
With each word, a knot ties inside of you, desperate for release. 
“Because you’re fucking right,” he leans down, lips going straight for your neck, not looking you in the eyes, “All it fucking took was for you to get me alone for one night, and now? I’ll never get enough of you, I’ll never get clean of you,” he takes a deep breath, and suddenly, his lips latch onto you, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting hard. You can’t stop your fingers from latching onto his curls, tugging hard, body rolling into his. It hurts, it stings, you need more, “Everything changes. And that includes me.” 
His face finally leaves the crook of your neck, pulling back to look you in your eyes. Doe brown eyes search yours, wide and honest and pleading. You let everything else melt away; for a moment, it’s only him and only you. The tension, the last twenty one hours, the last year — you let it disintegrate and focus on him.
It never mattered if everything changed. 
It only matters that he’s changed, irreversibly, and so are you.
“How can I hate you for those things?” you press into him again, this time less desperate and more consciously, “Do it.” 
“Do what?”
“All of it,” you trail a hand up his chest, “Every single thing you just said. Fucking- Do them. Bend me over, make me scream, change me,” your voice breaks, shaking with anticipation and need. 
It’s all the encouragement he needs.
Every single thing he wanted, he craved, he does. A flurry of him properly discarding his jeans as he unbuttons yours to shove them down, spinning you and shoving you hard enough into the railing that it digs into your abdomen and leaves you breathless. You’re hardly aware of the way you step out of your pants and kick them to the side, looking out to the city skyline but not seeing it. It’s all a blur as you focus on the way your shirt rides up and he grabs your hips, bruising you finally as you have desperately needed. 
You wanted to be left haunted by the end of these last few hours. You wanted to see him every time you looked in the mirror for the next week, to remember the map of where his body molded to yours. You want to dream of the way he stretches you as your underwear is ripped to the side. You want to be followed by the sounds of his skin slapping against yours as he snaps forward with intention.
Changing you. He has no idea that he’s already ripped you open from the inside out, has already rewired your entire chest and set flames to your brain. 
Everything changes, and sometimes, everything is only two people. Just you. Just him. New versions that would have never met had it not been for this stupid fucking bet.
“Eddie,” you nearly sob, nearly choke on, his name burning in your throat like kindling embers. 
His hand walks up your spine, trailing wildfire even with a layer of cotton between you two. Burning and singing away all you’d assumed for far too long. When he reaches the nape of your neck, he takes care in wrapping your hair around his wrist, tugging back hard and forcing you to stand from where the railing had been bending you in two.
“Say it again,” his lips brush you ear with every gasping breathing, timing with the way his cock is sliding in and out of your warmth, “Say it louder.” 
“Fu-“ you start to moan, cut off by him pulling even harder on your hair, making his point so that you cry out, “Eddie!” 
He thrusts harder. You swear you could feel him in your throat. 
“Scream for me, baby,” an arm wraps around your torso, firm and solid for you to cling to rather than the warming metal of the railing, “Tell them who’s making you feel so good. Let them know. Be a good girl.”
Even when he claims to have control, it’s your actions, your reactions, that call the shots.
It’s the echo of your voice that spurs him on as you chant his name over and over, as if he were your only God. Primal worship dripping from every syllable. It’s the tremble in your thighs that has him pressing deeper into you, chest glued to your back as if he could never get you close enough. It’s the clench of your cunt around him, a vice that sucks him in as you drag him closer to the high he’s been dizzily chasing since you first dropped to your knees in front of him. 
It’s you. You’ve changed him, as he’s changed you.
He pulls your hair until you rest the back of your head against his shoulder, back arching and feet still spread as he only maintains his quick and brutal pace, leaning down to whisper in your ear one last time.
“You know the real reason why you should hate me?” he grits out between to particularly forceful thrusts, “It’s not just because I don’t deserve you. It’s because I’ve wanted you for so long,” you’re right on the edge, fluttering around his cock as his movements stutter. A tell tale sign. “I- fuck, fuck. It’s- God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.” 
You shatter around him in waves. Your entire body tenses as the words dig claws into you, piercing through vines and blooms. His body stills, warmth flooding you deep within as you continue to see stars. You can’t make a single sound, fingerprints surely left behind on where you clasp onto his forearm. 
I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.
When the waves recede, when the high has passed its peak, you both freeze. Your body tensed in his hold, struggling to process what he’d just said. 
Loved you. 
He’s frozen in place, scrambling to figure out how to undo the damage just done. 
I’ve loved you for so long.
He slips out of you, his spent dripping down your thighs. His forearm drops from you. Your hands don’t even try to stop him.
I’ll never be fucking worthy.
You should be worried of neighbors coming out to see the two of you on his balcony. If not worried, you should be embarrassed, or aching at the thought once again. Anything. You should feel something.
You turn slowly to him, entirely numb as you catch his rueful expression.
Loved you. He loved you.
His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”
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lunarzstarz · 1 year
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Bad Idea E.M
Pairing: Fuckboy!EddieMunson x Virgin!Fem!Reader
Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, drugs, first Times, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected sex, nicknames (Princess/Sweetheart), Eddie being a goof but also an asshole (Slightly proofread)
Summary: Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…
A/N: Been in a slump for a while and haven’t had time for writing, finally came up with this and got a bit carried away, definitely gonna be a part two!
As always, likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3
Word Count: 6.4K
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This was a bad idea. 
The gravel crunched beneath your shoes as you walked through the trailer park, looking out for that familiar mop of frizzy curls or that beaten up van. Your breath curling in clouds in front of you with the cold, clinging to the thin fabric of your jacket and now regretting your choice of outfit. What sane person wears a skirt in the middle of winter? He’s definitely gonna know you’re desperate. However, as desperate you knew you looked, with your short skirt, hair done nicely and perfect makeup, you hoped your plan would work. 
You planned everything down to this moment around a week ago when you had decided you couldn’t leave high school without at least some sort of experience. The thought of going off to college without even having properly kissed a boy was embarrassing to you, it felt like everyone your age had lost their virginity but you. You felt left out when all your friends would laugh and joke about their first time or talk about their experiences, even if they didn’t sound that much fun, you just wanted to know what all the fuss was about. So you turned to your last option, one you’d known you’d probably regret in a few hours but it was better than nothing. 
Eddie Munson wasn’t just know for being the town freak, everyone knew he was a certified fuck boy. You were pretty sure he had slept with over half the girls in your year, it was like a game to him to see how many notches he could get on his belt. He’d fuck them, then never speak to them again, acting like it never happened or that they just didn’t exist altogether. It was almost sad to watch all those girls chase after him, some of them would stop him in the hallways, asking to see him again or “hangout”, to go on dates. He’d just laugh at them or call them by the wrong name, whether it was on purpose or he really did sleep around that much that he actually does forget you don’t know. 
You were starting to lose all hope, you’d been searching for ten minutes around the small area and there was no sign of him anywhere. Then you heard the sound of music blasting, echoing off the trailers to you from the other side of the park, it sounded like the kind of stuff he played in the school parking lot, it had to be him, so you followed it. It leads you to a trailer with Eddie’s van parked right outside. You drew a deep breath, trying your best to settle any nerves that you had and hurried yourself up the path so that you didn’t have enough time to second guess yourself and turn around. 
You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 
You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 
“Alright! I’m coming Jesus chri-” an agitated shout came from inside over the music, it was lowered then the door swung open. Eddie leaned against the doorway, hair disheveled like he had just woken up, even though it was turning six o’clock. He was wearing a tattered Pantera shirt that had some holes in it, revealing some of his fair skin and some grey sweatpants that hung low on his waist, a lit joint dangling from his plush lips. He may have been an asshole, but god he was a hot one. 
“Yes?” he shakes his head at you when you don’t say anything, curls drooping around his face. 
“Weed” you blurt out, muddling up your words “shit- I- sorry, I’m Y/n, I’m here to buy weed, um Chrissy told me you sell and-” you cut yourself off, too much information. You swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Great not even five minutes in and he’s already laughing at me, so much for trying to act cool. 
“Right” he huffs in acknowledgement, taking a drag from the joint, studying you for a moment before disappearing back into the trailer. You stay put, your body succumbing to numbness with the cold biting at your skin as you wait for him to return, but he doesn’t. “Well, come in, it’s fucking freezing” Eddie calls from inside, so you step past the threshold into the living room shutting the door behind you. 
You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for his return as you took in your surroundings, it was a lot more homely than you thought it would be. Hats and mugs lining the walls, you smile to yourself when you spot the Garfield one, similar to yours at home. The place smelt of a mixture of weed and cigarette smoke, coffee and man all masked with the scent of cheap lemon air freshener. 
There was some shuffling coming from down the hall, then Eddie emerged with a bag in hand, catching you staring at his home. “Maid took the night off” he says, snapping you from your thoughts, making you flinch. 
“Oh- I wasn’t judging or anything I jus-” 
“Well it's certainly not the Ritz” he gives you a sarcastic, tight lipped smile. 
“No, no I like it, it's cozy” you offer him a shy smile, you’re sure he’s received a lot of criticism for where he lives, trailer park trash some of the kids had called him. 
He’d heard it before from the girls he took back here, “it’s nice” is what they would always say with a small grimace on their face, they were only saying it so they could get in his pants, but for some reason he could tell you were being earnest. “Yeah well…here, half an ounce for twenty five.” 
You reached for your pocket to fish out the cash, then pause “Wait, Chrissy said you only charge fifte-” 
“I charged Chrissy fifteen, last time I checked, you’re not Chrissy” he looks you up and down, something about his stare making you shiver. “Twenty five or nothing” he says, holding out his palm and the bag from your reach, looking done with the whole ordeal already. 
You think for a moment, trying to come out with something to say, something that wouldn’t cut this visit short and stick with your plan. “How about if I suck your dick? Will you give me the discount then?” you offer, shocking yourself with your sudden boldness. 
Eddie’s eyebrows raise in slight surprise, then he huffs a laugh. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered him a blowjob or sex or the occasional “I’ll show you my tits” in return for some free weed, wouldn't be the first time he’d taken someone up on it. He was just more surprised it came from you, hadn't expected you to say something like that. 
“I’d much rather prefer the extra ten bucks, thanks for the offer though, but you and I both know you’re better than that princess” he spoke to you in a tone that made you feel dumb, but you’d be lying if you said the nickname didn’t excite you a little. “Now, thirty or nothing” his lips curled into a smug grin. 
You roll your eyes “Fine, twenty five” you pull out your cash and shoved it into his palm, he tosses you the bag. You examine the fuzzy green plant while he counts the money, you’d never smoked before “Could you um- show me how to roll? It’s just I’m not very good at it, I’ll pay extra if-”  
He sets the money aside “Save it, look I’ll show you but after you’re gone, got it?” You nod “Sit down” he motions over to the couch. You took a seat and it was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked, Eddie taking a seat next to you, shuffling close so that your knees knocked together. You could smell his cheap cologne and musk that had been overpowered by the joint he was still smoking through the whole interaction. 
“Here, take this” he passes it to you “Now I’m only gonna do this once, so watch closely.” He lifted the grinder and started the process, you’re doing as he said and watching closely. “Don’t let it go out” he snaps at you, so you place the joint between your lips and puff on it like you’d done with cigarettes. Bad Idea. You start choking on the thick, strong smoke, not being used to it. 
“Jesus Christ-” he gets up and heads to the kitchen grabbing a glass and pouring water into it, racing back over to as you finish your spluttering. “You’ve never smoked before” he says more like a statement than a question. 
“What gave it away?” you croak out, thanking him for the water before taking a sip, he laughs a little. 
“I don’t know, maybe you almost choking to death? Better?” he asks once your breathing is normal again, you nod. “Here, try again, only a little” he instructs, you hesitantly hold the joint up to your lips again and take a small drag of the smoke, holding it in your mouth. “Right, now inhale” you do as he says, the smoke filling your lungs, catching your throat slightly but not as bad as the last time. 
You exhale “Better?” he asks again, returning to his spot next to you. 
“Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it to be so strong.” 
“Nobody does, now watch” he says, picking up one of the rolling papers and starting the process over. You do try to pay attention like he said, but with each extra drag you took it became harder to focus, your attention wandering to him. Eyes straying to stare at his ringed fingers, his face, lips, his tongue poking out between them in concentration or when he licked along the paper to seal the joint. 
By the time he’s finished you feel light, not too high, but it has definitely made you relax, taking up more space, your bare thigh flush with his clothed one. “Thanks” you say a little breathless as he passes it to you, taking his back. You toss it over in your palm, examining it, he’d perfectly wrapped the plant, it made you wonder what other things those hands could do besides roll joints and play guitar.
“You should go now” he sighs, stretching out and laying back on the couch, spreading his legs to take up more room. 
“I should…” you drawl, about to get up and cut your plan short, no you’ve come this far already “But before I do, I need to ask a favor.”
He scoffs “I don’t do favors” he says, taking the final drag, giving you an unamused look. 
“Look, can you atleast hear me out?” you beg, he doesn’t say anything so you take that as a sign to continue. “It’s just- I know you have this reputation-” 
“I don’t fuck virgins” he interupted you, placing the roach into the ashtray “Not anymore.” 
“I didn’t even finish- I- how do you even know I was gonna ask that and how do you know I’m a virgin?” you say, trying to hide how guilty you looked. You hated how he read you like a book, how he knew that’s what you were here for even if your plan was just that, you hated that you really had been that obvious. 
“Well you all have this…look” he shrugs. 
What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
“And you showed up here, unannounced may I add, in that short skirt in the middle of winter, looking all pretty and shit, wanting to suck my dick for free weed, you’re all the same, it’s funny really” he finishes, a smirk pulling on his lips. 
You tried to ignore the fact that he had called you pretty “For the record, I didn’t want to suck your dick” you muttered low, but he caught it, his smile growing. 
“See, you didn’t deny that I was right, you may as well stuck a sign on your back saying fuck me” he retorts, you could tell he was having fun getting under your skin. 
“Fine! You want to know the real reason I came here?” you snap. 
“Oh please sweetheart do tell” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm as he leans his head in his palm, acting like he was really interested with what you had to say. You glared at him, despite the fact you knew he couldn’t care less about why you were here, you continued anyway. 
“I leave for college soon, I just didn’t wanna go being a frigid fuck okay! I just wanted to do it before I left so I didn’t have to worry about it. I wanted to just lose my virginity then move on, no strings attached and seeing as you’re known for fucking basically anything that moves I came to you as a last resort. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You finish with a long sigh, folding your arms and falling back into the cushions. 
He’s almost stunned for a moment, then finally responds “Listen, I’m flattered, really, but like I said, I don’t fuck virgins, so I’m afraid your gonna have to finish your quest elsewhere.” 
“Why not?” you practically whine, maybe you were desperate, he was thoroughly enjoying it though. 
“They get all clingy after, hard to get rid of, expect me to be all nice and sweet and romantic” he says the word with a grimace, like it hurt him to even say it. 
“Well lucky for you I’m not looking for you to be sweet or romance me, trust me I knew that before I got here” you scoff “Look all you have to do is fuck me and I’ll be on my way.” 
“You wound me, I can be sweet” he screws his face up in faux hurt you just roll your eyes “If I wanted to that is, besides that’s what they all say, then they come crawling back for more, I’m just that good” he says with a cocky grin. 
“Oh please, you’re probably not even that good at it” 
He narrows his eyes at you “Oh you are good at this.” 
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about” of course you knew what you were doing. 
“Oh you most certainly do, I know what game you’re playing sweetheart and it’s not gonna work” 
You stand up to leave, brushing yourself off and reaching for your bag of weed “No, no, if you don’t want to fuck me that's just fine.”
It was the perfect angle for Eddie to catch a glance up your skirt, stealing a peek at your cotton underwear and the wet patch that accompanied them. He smiles to himself. It had been a few days since his last hook up, he was running out of options, he’d already fucked a few people that he enjoyed a handful of times, he’d didn’t wanna go back to them again, god forbid they start thinking they’re special. Maybe he should give you a chance. 
“Now, I didn’t say I didn’t want to” he grabs your wrist, not too tightly, easing you to sit back down, this time in his lap “You swear you’ll leave me alone after, no bullshit?” 
Your confidence from earlier now dwindling from sitting on the edge of his knee, you swallow “I swear, you won’t even have to look at me again.” 
That was apparently all the confirmation he needed because in an instant he was on you. He started off slow, pressing his lips softly against yours with small pecks, not what you were expecting. His hands came to rest on your waist, even though your shirt you could feel the burn it left behind on your skin, you kept your hands to yourself, not knowing where to touch. 
Eddie must’ve sensed this “Here” he mumbles against your lips “Like this.” He pulled back, guiding you to face him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips so that you were straddling him, cores flush together. He slid your jacket off your shoulders and tossed it aside, stroking down your bare arms until he reached your wrists, lifting them to rest your palms against his chest. You run your hands over the expanse of his clothed chest to his shoulders then back again feeling his warmth, looking back at him, he’s watching you intently “Better?” 
“Mhm” you nod, not trusting yourself to speak right now.
“Oh come on, don’t go so quiet on me now, I was quite enjoying your little games” he teases, leaning in to kiss along your jaw, starting to venture down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. 
“I-it’s better” you breathe out, you’d never been this close to anyone before. 
He starts placing wet kisses over the sensitive skin of your neck, you feel him suck onto you, not too harsh at first, testing to see how you respond. You let one of your hands slip up behind his head to tangle your fingers in his messy curls, pushing him further into you. Taking this as a hint he sucks harder earning a gasp from you, feeling his smug grin spread across your skin. 
You pulled him back, noticing the way he groaned, he liked when you tugged on his hair, you’d remember that. It was clumsy, but you crashed your mouth onto his and instead of him making a comment on how bad you were at making out, he quickly corrected you, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before you let him in. It was easier than you thought, the way you got the hang of it quickly following his movements as you explored each others mouths, both of you tasting the shared joint. 
Eddie’s hands that rested on your hips trailed down your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he slipped them up the back of your thighs, groping at them, pulling you impossibly closer. You could already feel the hard on growing beneath you, his hands slipping further up your skirt to cup your ass and use it as leverage to grind you against him. 
“Oh-” you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his at the feeling, your clothed clit brushing against him. 
“That feel good?” he asks, doing it again, harder this time. 
“Y-yeah” you let out a shaky breath and then he’s leaning up to kiss you again. Each drag against your core felt better than the one before, he had you gasping as he ground his hips up into you, groaning against your lips when he felt you start moving on your own. He returned his hands to your waist, letting you move at your own pace, mouthing at any skin he could get at. 
“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging on the hem of your shirt. He felt you stop, eyes shooting open to look at him, he could see the hesitation. 
Nobody had ever seen you like that before “Okay, but- just” you couldn’t find the right words. He’d slept with lots of girls, all kinds, you knew that he wouldn’t judge you or at least you hoped he wouldn’t. 
“What?” he stops, sensing your sudden unease. 
“I- look just don’t judge me okay?” you reach for the bottom of your shirt and he stops you. 
“Why would I do that?” he looked sincere, but the Eddie you heard of, you didn’t think he was capable of such things. 
“I don’t know, it’s just nobody has seen me naked before, and I know you’ve seen a lot of girls, just don’t want you thinking I look weird or something…” you avoid looking at him, oh god what if he thinks I’m weird…
“Listen, I’ve seen you with clothes on and you look pretty fucking hot to me and you’ll probaly look even better naked and as far as weird goes unless you have some third tit I don’t know about, which I’m sure I’d still be pretty into, then you have nothing to worry about.”
You both burst into a fit of laughter at the third tit comment, but it makes you feel alot better and at ease. “Well, no, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t” you say through your laughter. 
“Okay then, let’s see them” he says, the laughter dying down. You reach for your shirt and pull it up over your head, throwing it aside to join your jacket.
When you look back down Eddie’s smiling at you, well at your boobs, it makes you laugh again “I thought you’d get tired of seeing them by now” you quip, he looks back at you. 
“Trust me, I don’t,” he reached up to cup them, giving them a firm squeeze in their cups before reaching one hand around to unclasp your bra, removing it in record time. He looks up at you, like he’s waiting on something. 
“What? You want me to applaud you?” you tease. 
“Maybe, was thinking I deserve more than that though, maybe a prize?” 
“Maybe if it was your first time, but I know you’ve had plenty of practice, how many girls have you shown that trick to?” you cock your head at him, you enjoyed teasing him “I’ll get back to you though if they make a prize for the worlds cockiest bastard though.”
He rolls his eyes at you “Alright are you here to chit-chat or fuck me?” 
You felt his cock through the thin fabric of your underwear and his pants, he was hard as rock now, your confidence growing, you grind down against it. His eyelids flutter, head resting on the back of the couch “Do that again.” 
So you do, going back to what you were doing moments ago, quickly falling back into rhythm. Eddie grabbed and groped at your chest, kissing all over the new exposed skin, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth making you mewl. He sucked and nipped and caressed every inch he could get at until you were a whining mess.
“Please Eddie” you moan, hands raking through his hair.
“Here or the bedroom?” He asks, pulling off of your chest that was now covered in faded red marks and spit.
You chose the latter. He mumbled for you to hold on, picking you up and carrying you from the couch to the room down the hall.
He placed you down on the bed, you lay in the middle, head propped up on the pillows, looking around the room. It was messy, clothes scattered around the floor, books and sheets of paper with scribbled down lyrics, one had words on it that looked like a love song, you smile to yourself. How ironic.
Your attention is brought back to him when he starts to remove his shirt, revealing all the ink that was hidden behind it, you were taking it all in. You also notice the wet patch on his sweatpants where you had been sitting, your cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment “I’m sorry…” 
He looks at you confused, then notices what you’re looking at and that smug grin returns “It’s all good” he comes back over to the bed, climbing on to lean over you “Another thing about virgins” he starts, undoing the zipper on your skirt and looking up at you for confirmation and continuing when you nod. He pulls it off leaving you in just your underware, his grin spreading when he sees that your fucking soaked “They get wet so easily.” 
“Is that bad?” you ask, looking to find your underwear absolutely ruined. 
“Fuck no, it’s good, really good” he hooks his fingers into the waistband “Can I?” 
“Yes, please” you reply, desperate for him to finally touch you. 
He pulls them off of you, shutting your legs at the sudden cool air hitting your dripping folds. “Just gotta get her warmed up first though, don’t wanna hurt her” he says, guiding your legs apart. You were confused on what he meant by her, but soon caught on that he was talking to your cunt, flushing at the realization. 
He got level with it, you felt so vulnerable like this, his face inches away from your center. “W-what are you doing?” you ask, as he placed soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. 
“Do you trust me?” he pauses, resting his head on your leg. 
“Not in the slightest” you tried to bring that teasing side out again. 
“Good” he smirks up at you “I promise it will feel good, haven’t had a complaint yet.” 
He sees that uncertainty again and takes your hand “Hey, I promise” he tries again and for some reason you believe him. The way he looked at you, it made you feel different. Eddie wasn’t what you had expected, a lot softer, more caring, sweet and nothing like the rumours you’d heard. Perhaps it was because of the comment you made earlier “I can be sweet…if I want to.” He wanted to be sweet with you, but how many other girls had he been sweet with? Maybe he was just being like this to prove a point, you had to remind yourself you wouldn’t be the first and certainly not the last. You weren’t special, he was only doing this because you begged him to, because you were desperate like all the other girls before you. You had to remember that. 
“Always wondered if you’d taste as good as you looked” he says, looking up at you from between your thighs. Always? You were so sure Eddie didn’t even know who you were until about thirty minutes ago, even if you did go to the same school, it was almost like he’d been thinking about you for a while. No. You told yourself that wasn’t what he meant. 
You weren’t given enough time to over think his choice of wording anymore, not when you felt his tongue press against your entrance before licking a long strip all the way up your center to your sensitive clit. 
“Holy shit!” you practically scream, your hand flying up to cover your mouth, you hadn’t been expecting it to feel like that. It was different, but a good different, fucking brilliant different. Your reaction only fueled his ego, so he continued lapping up everything you gave him. The sounds were lewd. You’d feel embarrassed if it hadn’t felt so good. 
You looked down to find him already staring up at you with those big brown eyes, grinding his hips into the mattress below you. He sucked onto your clit, tugging on it and pulling off with a pop “Come on, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He reached up to pull your hand away, placing it by your side “I like it when they’re loud, it’s good for the reputation” he gives you that cocky grin and you glare at him, but before you can think of something to say back, he’s diving back in again to devour you like a man starved. 
You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten, but everything hits you tenfold when he slips one of his fingers into you making your back arch. His touch felt so good, he definitely knew what he was doing, you were beginning to understand why all those girls came crawling back even after he treated them like shit. 
You felt his second finger push into you and with his hands being bigger than your own, the stretch was there, the slight pressure building, but he’s quick to ease you through it. “Oh fuck- Eddie please I’m gonna-” you’re cut off when he latches onto your clit again, curling the two fingers up into your sweet spot, leaving you moaning his name like a prayer. 
Your hands reach for his hair, your grip tight, tugging on his scalp making him groan into you adding to the mix, making you tip over that edge. Your thighs closed around him, he didn’t mind though, he relished in the feeling of you grinding against his face as you rid out your high. “Fuck-” you whimper, he wasn’t stopping, dragging your orgasm out for as long as he could. It was entirely different to any you’d given yourself, stronger, you felt it through your whole body, like electricity running through your core. 
You had to pry him away when it got too much, your thighs trembling with the oversensitivity. Your head falls back onto the pillows, breathing unsteady. “That was-” you couldn’t even find the words. You open your eyes to find Eddie hovering over you with that smug grin, lips puffy and chin glistening with your arousal. 
“Still don’t think I’m any good?” he leans down to kiss you again, you could taste yourself on him, it made you ache. 
When you finally came back down from your high, you were grabbing at him, his hair, chest, arms, waist, anything to bring him closer. You wanted more, needed him inside of you. You let your hands wander, sliding down the expanse of his stomach to the trail of hair at his waistband, he pulled back. 
“You sure you’re ready?” he asks, brushing away the stray hairs that had stuck to your forehead. 
“Yeah, I’m ready” he gives you one last peck before getting up to remove his sweatpants, opening up the bedside drawer and pulling out a foil packet and tearing it open with his teeth and rolling the condom down his legnth. You were staring at it. You’d never seen a dick in person, so maybe it was just because it was your first time, but he was big. It was definitely gonna be a stretch, you’d heard from others that the first time is almost always painful. 
“You okay?” Eddie asks, sitting on his knees between your legs, hiking them up around his waist, his cock resting against your folds. 
“Y-yeah, I’m okay” you swallow, diverting your eyes back to his. 
“It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but if you need me to stop at any time just let me know, ‘kay?” he was rubbing soothing circles into your hip with the pad of his thumb, trying to get you to relax again. 
“Okay” you nod, voice weak as he starts sliding his tip through your folds, nudging your clit, earning small gasps from you. It catches on your entrance and you screw your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what was coming. He pushes into you, one inch at a time, going slow and watching you for any signs of discomfort or pain. 
The stretch was there, feeling like a dull ache, but nothing like you were expecting. “Just relax” Eddie’s voice made you release the breath you were holding. 
He pushes over half his length into you and you whine, the ache growing a little, but you loved it, you wanted all of him. “Please Eddie” you reach for him, bringing him closer to you, pushing the rest of him inside as he comes face to face with you. You’d never felt so full. 
“Fuck- you can’t just do that” Eddie groans as he bottoms out, feeling your tight walls stretch around him. He was leaning over you, using his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in, watching your face contort beneath him as you adjusted to his size. “Look at me” he whispers, so close you could feel his warm smokey breath on your neck. You open your eyes and he smiles down at you “How’s that feel?” 
“Big” you sigh, the air having been knocked out of you, he laughs. 
“I’m gonna start moving now” he warns you before pulling his hips back slowly, his cock dragging over spots deep inside of you that you hadn’t even known existed. Eddie starts his slow, languid pace, pulling out and thrusting back into at a painfully slow speed. He kisses all over, cheeks, lips, neck, chest, easing in and out, checking in on you, it feels great, but you need more. 
“Can you go a little f-faster?” you gasp, his tip nudges over your sweet spot. 
“Don’t wanna- shit- hurt you” he curses when he feels you squeeze around him, struggling to hold himself back from doing what he really wanted to. 
“Please, I can handle it” you plead “I want it harder, please” voice going up an octave as his hips snapping into you. 
“Don’t think I’d be able to stop if I do Sweetheart, are you sure?” 
“Yes! Please, just- just fuck me already” you huff, frustration building. 
He pulls all the way out until it is just his tip inside, then slamming back into you with brutal force. Your back arches off the mattress, hands twisting in the comforter beneath you as he starts fucking into you at an animalistic pace that had you seeing stars. 
“B-better?” he pants, head falling into the crook of your neck. Maybe it was a praise thing with him, maybe that's why he slept around so much, the validation. 
“Fuck- s-so much better” you cry, hands reaching up to run along his back, nails digging into his pale flesh when you feel him start to bite on your neck, sucking a bruise into your pulse point. With each thrust, he rocked his hips against you, the coarse hair at his base grinding against your clit. 
You slid a hand up along his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck, finding purchase in his hair, tugging on it harshly earning satisfied moans from him. “Christ- You feel so tight, fucking pussy is taking me so well” he pulls away from your neck, meeting your fucked out gaze. 
“Oh my- feels so good Eds, so close” you slur, drunk on his cock, the feeling of him pounding into you, abusing your sweet spot and the wet sounds echoing off the walls, had you hurtling to your impending orgasm. He reached behind and grabbed the back of one of your knees, pushing it further up, hitting you at a new angle that had you chanting his name like it was the only word you knew. 
“That’s it, shit- squeezing me so fucking tight baby, you gonna cum?” he rests his damp forehead “Gonna cum all over my cock?” 
You don’t even have time to find the words, your release hitting you like fucking truck. Your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you let the pleasure rattle through your entire body, your ears ringing. Eddie wasn’t long to follow, feeling your slick walls clamp down on him making him spill his load into the condom. 
He collapses on top of you, both of you gasping to catch your breath. You’d never felt anything so amazing, your head was light, your whole body felt like it was on fire. You blink up at the ceiling, Eddie’s face planted in your chest, heartbeat racing. 
A moment passes and you’ve never felt more content in your life, running your fingers through his hair as you both lay there, too spent to move, coming down from your highs. You felt him shift beneath you, pulling out of you making you hiss at the sensitivity. “Fuck” he lets out a long sigh, rolling over to lay next to you. 
“That was incredible” you laugh, suddenly all giddy inside, turning on your side to watch him. He stood up, peeling off the condom and throwing it into the trash before picking up his discarded pants, slipping them back on and grabbing a cigarette from the table next to you. He offers you one which you take, it seemed like the right thing to do. 
He disappeared down the hall, so you stayed where you were, puffing anxiously, he still hadn’t said anything. He returns a moment later, your clothes in hand, picking up the other scattered items from the floor and handing them to you. “Well this was nice and all, but I have company coming over, so you know...” Oh. 
“Oh, yeah, right, sorry” you took the hint and got up, a small ache settling in your core. You silently changed back into your close, trying to ignore all those negative feelings that threatened to arise. Not now You told yourself. You knew this was going to happen, this is how it was always going to be. You had been preparing for this before you had even got here, it’s just how Eddie was, it wasn’t gonna change just for you. Though you had hoped that he’d even lay with you for just a little while or call you pretty one more time. 
Once you were fully dressed, you checked yourself in the mirror, hair disheveled, smudged mascara and lip gloss, the purple bruises forming on your skin. You try your best to look at least half decent before you leave. Eddie clears his throat behind you and you fight the urge to hit him, he was giving you whiplash with how quick he went from being sweet and concerned Eddie to a complete and total douchebag. 
You leave the room, him following closely after you. You grab your bag of weed from the coffee table and turn to him one last time, trying not to show anything other than that you were completely normal about this whole encounter. You’d tried to think of something smart to say, but nothing came. “Thanks for the drugs and well you know…” you divert your eyes to the door, noticing the rain “shit.” 
“Well, better get home quick, looks like a storm is coming” Eddie sighs, opening the door for you. 
You clung to your very thin and very absorbent jacket, giving him one last hateful stare before stepping out onto the porch. “See ya, asshole” you mutter the last word, hoping he didn’t catch it as you walked out into the rain. You knew this was how it was gonna end, you just thought you would have enjoyed it for even a moment longer, but here you were in your soggy shoes and drenched jacket, shivering with the cold, your thoughts eating you up inside as you start you long walk home. 
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 1 month
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Pour Some Sugar On Me
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(Older!Alpha Eddie x Omega!Reader)
Summary: It’s been four months since you’ve been mated to Eddie in secret. When he takes you to “Lovers Lake” for a picnic and tells you he’s never hooked up there, it’s only right that you remedy that. WK: 1.8K
Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors, scenting, knotting, biting, unprotected sex, outside sex, pet names, a whole lotta gushy mushy fluff. No physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit but she does have the nickname “sugar” 18+MNDI!
A/N: SURPISEEE SHAWTY!! I know it’s been a minute since I posted a ST fic but I randomly got the spark to write this today! This is set in the middle of Everlasting Sweeheart before Sugar’s dad finds out about them. Older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple.
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You’ve been seeing Eddie in secret for about four months now and it couldn’t be more perfect. Aside from the fact that it was a secret. It was hard, having to hide your mate from everyone in your life. The only person you’ve told is your childhood best friend but she lives states away. A few of your employees asked about your mark and you brushed them off, not wanting to go into details. You haven’t seen your dad since that day at the shop, the day you realized that Eddie worked for him. You missed him, and you hate sneaking around behind his back. Even though it was your idea to wait, you were ready to tell him. But your mate? He wasn’t quite there yet. So you decided not to push him for now and to just enjoy your little bubble.
Today Eddie has something “special” planned for the two of you but refuses to tell you where you’re going. He does this with every date, plans something elaborate or something as simple as a movie night at home. But it was always romantic. He put a lot of thought into these dates and it made sneaking around infinitely easier on you. On those days, it feels everything and everyone but you and Eddie cease to exist.
“Alright sugar pie, you ready?” Eddie yells down the hall, you made him leave the room so you could get ready because you had a little surprise of your own. He didn’t tell you where you were going, but he at least told you that you were riding on his bike and not in one of his cars. So you’d know what to wear. And it just so happened you had the perfect outfit.
Thus far he's only seen your softer side, your little mini dresses and Mary Jane’s with ribbons tied in your hair. Which was great for when you worked at the bakery, comfy shoes, easy movement, kept your hair out of your face. But there’s a whole other side to you he has yet to discover. You were raised by a biker, after all. You look at yourself in the mirror and smirk. You had even styled your hair differently and your make up was darker than your everyday look. Eddie was going to shit.
“Yeah baby, I’m ready.” You exit the room and Eddie’s jaw literally drops and his keys that were dangling from his fingers fall to the ground.
“Sugar… you look…” his eyes roam your figure, drinking in every inch, every detail. The glossy leather of your thigh high platform boots. The little black ripped jean shorts. The tiny little white tank top. And last but not least? You’re wearing a fucking leather battle jacket. “Wow. You look so fucking sexy. Did you get new clothes?”
“Nah. This is stuff I’ve had forever. I actually started this jacket back in highschool and have gradually added to or changed it. I feel like you’re forgetting who my dad is, Eddie bear. Have you ever looked in my closet? There’s more to me than you think.” You approach him, running your cherry red fingernail along his jaw, causing him to shiver under your touch.
“You’re telling me my little sugar girl has a bad ass rocker side I don’t even know about?” He grips your hips in his large ringed hands, pulling your body taunt against his.
“Guess you’ll just have to stick around and find out.” You pull back, shooting him a wink. “You ready to go or are you gonna stand here and ogle me all night?”
“Oh baby, I’m gonna ogle you alright… but, I’m ready to go.” He gives your butt a little pat before leaning down to pick up his keys. “Come on, get your sexy ass out the door.”
“Okay, okay, I’m going. You don’t have to be pushy.” You tease, giggling as you connect his lips to yours.
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Eddie drove his bike to the edge of town, turning down a dirt road and stopping when he reached the lake he apparently nicknamed “lovers lake”. He had a whole picnic packed tightly in the seat compartment of his motorcycle with all your favorite foods and treats. He even brought little candles and wine.
“This is nice Eddie, it’s really pretty here.” Your head is resting on his shoulder and you smile up at him sweetly.
“Yeah? I’m glad baby. Used to come out here in highschool in my van. Open up the back and just smoke and think, enjoy the silence. Figured it would be nice.” He smooths a hand over your hair before cupping your cheek, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.
“All by yourself? You didn’t bring any girls out here? That’s why they call it lovers lake, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him playfully.
“Ha! No, definitely didn’t bring any girls out here. Teenage Eddie wasn’t very popular with the ladies.”
“Hmm… that’s too bad, seems like a nice place to get your guts rearranged by a hot metal head, if you ask me.” You rest a hand on his chest, looking up at him with hooded eyes.
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That’s how you ended up where you are now, bent over Eddie’s bike, your shorts discarded on the ground somewhere, panties pushed to the side and his tongue buried as deep inside you as possible. He insisted you keep the boots and the jacket on because it was “really doing it for him”.
“Fuck baby, you always taste so sweet.” Eddie mumbles against your core, the vibrations causing you to moan out. His skilled tongue pushes you closer to the edge with each passing second. He leans down to take your clit between his lips as his thick digits circle your entrance. He starts to thrust his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right so they brush against your sweet spot with each stroke. It has you seeing stars, your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers he feels like they’re going to get pushed out.
“Oh my god! Fuck, Eddie! Feels so fucking good, you always make me cum so good. Want your cock.”
“Don’t worry sugar, I’m not fucking done with you yet.” You hear the sound of his belt, followed by his zipper. He pushes his pants down just enough for his cock to spring free, taking it in his hand and running it through your slick folds. “How bad do you want it?”
“So bad alpha, want your knot.” You whimper as you push back against him. He pushes into you in one breath taking thrust.
“Ah fuck, you’re always so god damn tight.” Eddie pushes his hips flush against yours, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. His hands grip onto your ass, the cool night air making his rings cold against your skin. He squeezes the flesh of your cheeks while he starts to rock into you slow and deep, teasing you.
“Eddie, faster, please, go faster.” You bounce back against him, your ass jiggling deliciously in his tattooed hands.
“Yeah? My pretty girl wants it faster?” He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back inside you, the sound of his hips clapping against your ass echoing through the trees. He starts to fuck into you hard and fast, your upper half resting against the plush bike seat and the tips of your boot clad feet are the only thing touching the ground.
“Mmm alpha, I need your cum. Need your knot. You make me feel so fucking full.”
Eddie leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, making his cock thrust even deeper inside you. One of his hands snakes around you to rub your clit while he brings his lips to your neck, leaving sloppy wet kisses along the expanse of your throat. He shoves his nose into your scent gland and inhales, your sugary sweet scent sending his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
“You smell so fucking good omega. My omega. My sweet girl.” He nips at the skin of your neck before biting down, latching his teeth to your skin. It’s all too much. It all feels too good. The speed of the circles on your clit increases and that’s all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge.
“Ohmygod! Eddieeee, mmm fuck.” He fucks you through it before leaning up off of you to chase his own high.
“This pussy’s so fucking good. Tastes so sweet. Sucks me in so good. So tight. Fucking made for me.” His eyes don’t know where to settle, his thick cock disappearing into your creamy walls over and over again. The way your back is curved from how you’re bent over his bike. The way those fucking boots hug the top of your thighs.
“Give your cum alpha, fuck a pup into me.”
“Oh god.” His hips slap hard against yours a few more times before he’s pushing them flush against your ass, filling you with ropes of his cum. His knot starts to swell inside you and he goes to pull out so you aren’t stuck in this awkward position until it goes down but you just hook your leg around his, keeping him in place.
“No, I want your knot, Eddie. I’ll stay like this all night just to have it.”
“Jesus Christ.” You let out a little whimper that turns into a loud moan as his knot pops inside you. The feeling sending you into another mind blowing orgasm. Eddie leans his chest down against you again so he can leave loving little pecks against your cheek and rub his nose against your throat.
“That was so fucking hot.” You giggle, reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.
“Yeah, it was, but now we’re stuck like this. So I’m gonna need you to stop laughing or we are going to be stuck here all night.” Eddie chuckles as he leans into your touch.
“Just fall back on your ass, it’ll be fine.”
He leans up, gripping your hips as he lets his ass fall back onto the ground. He lands with you on top of his lap with a gentle thud.
“Guess this isn’t so bad.” Eddie cups your cheek, turning your head to the side so he can connect your lips in a passionate kiss. No matter how many times he kisses you like this you think it’ll still make a bomb filled with butterflies go off in your stomach.
“So… how was your first lovers lake hookup?”
“World altering. Wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone else. I love you, sugar.”
“I love you too Eddie, so much.” You giggle fondly, taking his face in your hand.
“You’ve seriously gotta stop with that cute ass giggling or I’m just gonna have to fuck you again.”
“Maybe that’s what I want?” You raise a challenging eyebrow at him, a smirk spread across your lips.
“Ohhh you’re in for it now.” He grabs your hips, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with his knot still inside you. “I can stay here all night.”
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Taglist: @eddiesxangel @bimbobaggins69 @fairymunson @artistwhodoesntpost @witchyhippysstuff @djoseph-quinn @freak-of-hawkins
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months
Text
The Bet
Part one
Eddie is desperate to talk to you but will you ever be able to forgive and forget after learning your friendship was nothing more than a bet? Especially as you had fallen in love with him.
Do you still love him after all that anguish?
Part two.
Warnings: A lot of angst and you'll see..minors shoo! 18+
Don't copy, translate or repost my work.
❤️
A bet. That's all you'd ever been to Eddie, a bet to get one over on your now ex boyfriend, on Jason and the rest of the dark side as Eddie's friend had put it.
Had they spent this whole time laughing at you? Did Eddie get some kick out of stringing you along, stealing your heart piece by piece.
Was everything just a lie?
You had broken up with Bryan a week ago. Sick of his horrible nature and drawn to Eddie, head over heels for him. God you felt like such a fool.
The night you found out about the bet you cried yourself to sleep, walking to school on autopilot. Thank goodness for your friends because you struggled to get through the first day.
Mostly everyone was sympathetic but there was some people who sniggered when you walked past, whispered to their friends only it was so loud that you could hear.
I can't believe how gullible that idiot was
Imagine knowing the freak only got close to you for a bet
Serves that bitch and all the rest of Jason's idiots and the cheerleaders right for thinking they are so hot.
About time someone took them down a peg
Each thinly veiled barb cracked your already bleeding heart and you hurried to get away from the gossip.
It trickled out a couple days later, once the people had finished finding your pain hilarious, how anyone could find someone in pain to be funny was a mystery to you.
Whenever you saw Eddie you rushed away before he could speak to you, wouldn't look at his face because all you knew from him was lies.
Everything was a lie. He didn't love you, he never did. Your heart throbs with that realisation and you do your best to walk around school, head held up high and the heartbreak tucked up inside.
It was all an act but you were a great actor, you had to be to pretend like you weren't in agony on the inside.
...
It was the worst few weeks that Eddie could remember in a long long time, Dustin was disgusted with him and took a long time to talk to him.
His heart felt like it had been ripped in half and it was all his own fault, you wouldn't even look at him.
If he even attempted to try and speak to you it was to no avail.
The longest sentence you uttered was when he begged you to talk to him, even just one word.
All you said was ''goodbye Eddie" or that ''you didn't believe a word he said"
Steve picked you up from school with Robin every day, wouldn't even let Eddie go near you. Threatened to beat the shit out of him if he made you cry again.
He tried to speak to you again a few days later when Steve had eased up on guarding you, it was agonising weeks of you avoiding him.
You were coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy and another girl, Chrissy glared at him and the other girl looked like she wanted to kill him.
"Can we talk please, princess?'' he pleads and you ask your friends to give you a second and they do, very reluctantly still scowling at Eddie. He deserves that.
"I can't Eddie. I don't have anything to say to you" he swallows, his mind going a mile a minute, trying to think of what he can say to express how sorry he is.
''I messed up. I made a stupid mistake. The worst mistake, because I hurt you. I made a dumb bet to try and get back at assholes who bullied and made my friends and my life hell, it was mean and selfish and I wish I'd never done it" you listen to what he has to say and his heart aches when tears pool in your eyes.
"But you did do it, you couldn't even tell me the truth. You lied to me Eddie and all the time I was...I fell in love with you" he moves forward to cup your cheek, desperate for you to know that he loves you too.
"I love you, I fell in love with you and that's why I couldn't tell you. I couldn't lose you" you stare at him and don't speak for a few seconds, when you do the words split his heart in two.
"That's the thing, you lost me anyway" you walk away from him and he can't think of a single thing to say to stop you. Then he steels himself and runs to catch up with you.
"What Eddie?" you snap and he talks quickly, tripping over his words and anxious to get the words out.
"I hurt you badly, I fucked up and what I did was just fucking awful. I know that. I also know that I'm so in love with you, never thought I could feel this way for anyone but you snuck into my heart and it belongs only to you" you don't say anything but you don't rush away either, so Eddie says one more thing before you do decide to leave.
"I'll wait for you sweetheart, for however long it takes. I don't care how long I have to wait, you're worth every single second"
Tears pool in your eyes and you nod slightly. Ever so gently you squeeze his hand just a tiny bit then walk away, leaving Eddie determined as hell to win your trust again and maybe somewhere along the line your heart too.
💕
It took a while for you to even speak to Eddie for longer than five minutes, but he was nothing if not determined and patient, he's was not screwing this chance up.
At first, you didn't think Eddie was serious about waiting for you, but he was. Endlessly patient and sweet. Big brown eyes full of tenderness and joy when you spoke to him.
It was hard not to find him endearing, but he had hurt you badly and there was still a small part of you that held back, that was hesitant to get close, trying to protect your fragile heart that ached for you to give Eddie a chance.
It's Friday now and after an intense week of cheer practice, you can't wait to relax for the weekend.
Chrissy had been watching you looking at Eddie with longing, the exact same way Eddie looked at you for weeks now. To be honest it was beyond frustrating, the both of you loved one another, it was killing you both to be apart.
So that's why she was saying something to you today. More than anything she wanted you to be happy, if Eddie hurt you again just even a tiny bit then she would kick his ass.
That's before Steve go there first.
"Honey, what Eddie did was wrong and I'm mad as hell at him but anyone can see how sorry he is. He's so in love with you, maybe you could give him a second chance" Chrissy says to you as you sit down for lunch.
You rest your head on Chrissy's shoulder and let out a sigh. ''I want to, I want to so badly but I don't want to be heartbroken again''
Something tells Chrissy that Eddie wouldn't dare. That he would keep his promise to never hurt you so badly again.
She squeezes your hand reassuringly and it calms your anxiety down.
"Babe, he wouldn't dare. He's not stupid. Plus everyone might think I'm a sweetheart but I'll kick his ass if he did and Steve would too. Eddie won't lose you, not again"
The words play on your mind all day and when Eddie is hurrying to his truck at the end of Hellfire Club you pluck up your courage and go to speak to him.
"Eddie" the minute he sees you it's like his whole face lights up. A dimpled smile and brown eyes full of adoration greet you.
"Hey, sweetheart" longing fills the air, stifling you both and honestly you're pretty sick of it. So you take a leap, walk up to Eddie and take his hand.
"Would you mind if I asked you for a ride Eds?'' his hand tightens around yours and he grins, rushes to open the door to his truck and almost trips over his feet in the process. It's cute and you can't help but giggle.
He holds the door open for you. "Princess, your carriage awaits" you head inside.
The drive is short and sweet, Eddie once again being a gentleman as he opens the door for you to step out.
You thank him for the ride and before Eddie can head back into the truck, you kiss his cheek gently, then leave a sweet, chaste kiss on his lips.
The kiss leaves him looking dazed, he touches his cheek then his lips and there's that smile again, the one that melted your heart the first time you seen it.
"One more chance Eddie, if you hurt me again thats it. I mean it" he nods, his face serious as he takes in what you say.
"I swear you won't regret this princess, I love you and I'll spend every day proving that, do you... do you still love me?" he whimpers after a few seconds, his expression wide with worry and fear.
"I've never stopped" you answer back.
After your confession he practically does a little dance as he goes into his truck. Just before you open the door to your house, you hear his whoop of delight before he drives off.
The smile doesn't leave your face all night.
❤️
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appocalipse · 2 years
Text
Grand Gesture | eddie munson
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summary: catching feelings for your best friend was never in your plans. when you start distancing yourself from him to protect your heart, eddie vows to do everything in his power to keep it forever.
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“Come over for dinner tonight?” Eddie asks, trying to sound natural but maybe not being quite successful. “Wayne misses you, you know.”
It's a lie and he knows it — not that Wayne doesn't like you, far from it, but Eddie is painfully aware he's the one who misses you the most. He feels like a part of him is missing. His uncle, on the other hand, is a man of actions more than a man of words, and judging by the way he always ordered your favorite pizza flavor when you'd come visit Eddie, or how he'd give an understanding smile whenever Eddie did so much as mention your name, it was safe to say he considered you as much family as he did Eddie himself.
But that was before. Eddie now has to be quick if he wants to talk to you between classes. Most of the time you're no more than a blur to him — the ghost of his childhood best friend.
You look up at him very quickly — as if your eyes would burn if your gaze lingered too long, even — and you shove some books out of your backpack into the locker with little care. You smile, but Eddie knows all of your genuine smiles and this isn't one of them.
“Uh, well, I can't today,” you say. "Sorry."
"Tomorrow?"
"Busy too."
You seem to be calculating an escape route as you look down the hall. Eddie feels terribly pathetic when he asks again, "What about next week?"
“I have a test next week, I'll have to study.”
“Oh,” is all he manages to say.
Eddie doesn't remember any tests happening the following week. He twirls a ring around his finger nervously and tries to convince himself that it might be from a class of yours that he doesn't attend.
“Thanks for inviting me anyway," you close the locker and smile that same smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. "Say hi to Wayne for me, okay?”
“...sure.”
You're leaving once more. Eddie feels panic rising in his throat, swallows hard, and says, before he can stop himself, "You're still going to The Hideout on Tuesday, right?"
Tuesday. It was something you and him had agreed on a while ago; Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout every Tuesday and most Tuesdays you'd go see them, but if you couldn't make it every time, the deal was that you'd go at least once a month. And you hadn't been there for the last three Tuesdays, which made this your last chance to keep your promise.
You look over your shoulder at Eddie, saying, "I'll try." And wave before rushing off to your next class without looking back.
He immediately knows you won't come; it's remarkable how much distance you've managed to put between the two of you in such a short amount of time.
On the other hand, you know you can't go to The Hideout on Tuesday.
Not because you have an appointment you can't reschedule or because you've already made plans you don't want to miss…but because being in love with your best friend feels awfully like getting a thorn into your foot. You could go weeks without seeing him, slowly forgetting the thorn was there…and then you'd just spend 2 minutes with Eddie and the damn thing would re-enter your skin three times deeper.
So no, you can't go to The Hideout on Tuesday, you decide. Watching Eddie play guitar wouldn't do you any good.
And you don't go. Not this Tuesday, not the next, not the one after that. Time goes by too fast but somehow the days seem to drag on terribly. And then days become weeks, weeks become months. Well, month, singular, but Eddie feels like he's lived a lifetime during the time you're not talking to him. It certainly feels like months.
36 days. Not that the two of you are counting. Definitely not.
Eddie is sitting on his throne in the middle of a Hellfire session, babbling his lines and running the campaign almost robotically, when he thinks of you again. The Eddie from before, the Eddie who still had you in his life, would have been ecstatic as he awaited the day to share this campaign with his little sheep around this very table. Now he's having trouble keeping track of what's going on.
He remembers the general idea; a curse, some monsters, an object capable of saving the world that lies in the power of a female elf the party has to find and convince to help. Yada, yada.
It's the third time he's lost himself inside his own head.
"Dude!"
Eddie looks at Dustin as if he's just been slapped. "What?"
“You're being ridiculous. Just talk to her."
"How dare you-"
Dustin realizes Eddie is about to go on a rant about getting out of character mid-session. He's not sure where all this courage is coming from (maybe it comes from the fact that he really cares about his Dungeon Master's happiness) but Dustin reaches out and lowers the screen in front of Eddie.
“You gotta go find your elf, man,” he says, encouraged by the murmurs of agreement rising from the others in the room. "Like, right now. Looks like your world is coming to an end.”
Eddie has an answer on the tip of his tongue as he looks from face to face and back to Dustin's.
"I'm the Dungeon Master here, Henderson." He doesn't care if he sounds defensive or silly or if the other boys will realize he's purposely pretending not to understand what his friend means. He doesn't care in the least.
“Oh, for God's sake,” insists Dustin, apparently the group's representative now that the subject is Eddie's personal life. "You know very well I'm talking about her."
Eddie makes a move to lift the dungeon master screen once again in hopes of ending the conversation. Dustin pulls it out of his grasp with little care.
"I have no idea what the hell you're talking about."
“You should go after her, man,” suggests Lucas, very quietly.
“Yeah,” Mike agrees, working up the courage to say something when Eddie doesn't say anything. “Believe me, it took some time to figure out my feelings for El, too. But at least I got it at some point, you know.”
“A grand gesture is what you need,” Lucas adds with newfound confidence. "It's what I do when Max doesn't want to talk to me."
He cowers slightly when Eddie looks at him, an appraising brow raised. Dustin is nodding his head emphatically in agreement, though.
“We want our Dungeon Master back,” Gareth says, trying to lighten the mood.
There is a silence that seems to last for years. Then, not quite realizing what he's doing, Eddie stands up, nearly toppling his throne in the process, and pretty much jumps toward the door.
Behind him, the boys shout words of encouragement and whistle with exaggerated excitement.
Grand gesture, huh?
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"You should ask Eddie to go to the movies with you."
"Mom," you scold for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, helping her into her coat.
"I just don't like leaving you home alone."
"I'll be fine. I'm practically an adult now."
Of course, you are. The discussion is not about that and you know it. She knows it. But none of you say anything. This conversation has played out several times in many different ways over the past thirty days, and it doesn't look like she's going to stop insisting anytime soon.
Your mother gives you her best puppy dog eyes. "Are you really going to be okay?"
"Yes, yes!" You emphasize, gently pushing her out the front door and smiling as convincingly as you can. "I swear I will. Now go have fun!"
She smiles and kisses the top of your head affectionately.
"Lock the door behind me, okay?"
You do. But you might as well have left the damn thing open, because two minutes after you lock it and just a second after you sit down on the couch, you hear a knock.
You run to the door, key in hand.
"Mom, did you forget something agai-"
But it's not your mom.
"Eddie," you mumble, voice barely a whisper.
It shouldn't be possible, but he's right there in front of you, hands in his pockets as he looks at your face with a nervous smile.
"Hi," he says, voice husky and warm just as you remember.
You feel like your heart is about to find its way out of your rib cage somehow.
Clearing your throat, you finally find your voice. "Aren't you supposed to be at Hellfire?" you ask.
"I left halfway through the session," he says, as if that explains everything. Eddie Ditching Hellfire? When you don't say anything else, standing there looking like you want to slam the door in his face, Eddie quickly adds, "Can I come in?"
"I don't think it's a good idea."
"We need to talk."
"It's not a good time," you say without looking at him, a little upset because, damn, how are you supposed to forget a guy who keeps showing up?
You start to close the door slowly, almost without realizing you're doing it.
Eddie puts his foot in the gap to stop you.
"Please," he begs. "Ten minutes?"
No, no, no. Say no.
Cursing inwardly, you step back and let him in. "Five."
You gesture for him to sit around the small kitchen table and lean against the counter, keeping a safe distance from him, your arms crossed tightly in front of your chest.
You ask him if he'd like something to eat or drink and he denies, hating how he's become a guest at your place, an outsider, someone you no longer have that familiar intimacy with.
You're staring at the floor like it's the most interesting thing you'd ever laid eyes on. "What did you want to talk about?" you ask.
Eddie places both hands on the table, twirling the rings around his fingers anxiously.
"I want…I need to…." he licks his lips and looks at your face, trying to turn thoughts into words and not understanding why it's suddenly so difficult to do so. "Why do you suddenly hate me?"
You can't say you didn't expect to hear a question like this at some point. That doesn't mean you don't get slightly lost when you actually hear it, though.
"I don't hate you, Eddie."
"You didn't talk to me in weeks, you didn't come to see my band," he holds up a finger as he points out each of your actions, "you run the other way whenever you see me in the school hallways…"
His gaze diverts to the space beside you.
“Christ, you even ripped our picture out of your fridge, apparently,” he lets out a completely humorless chuckle, a hint of sadness behind the irony you know all too well.
You look into the empty space he's indicating and suddenly feel guilty. A picture of the two of you the first night Eddie played at the Hideout with the band used to be there.
"I don't hate you," you repeat, silly. "I'd never hate you."
"You don't even look at me."
"Of course I do." You weren't looking until now, but you force yourself to do so even though it's hard. There's something very intimate about looking Eddie in the eyes, you think, something awfully familiar. "I'm looking at you right now."
"Yeah. For 2 seconds, I bet."
You shift your weight from one foot to the other, take a deep breath, and try to keep your thoughts clear.
"Did you come all the way here to tell me to look at you?"
"No," he says. "I came all the way here to say I miss you."
A very long time passes without you saying anything, your chest rising and falling faster than usual. Eddie realizes he's surprised you.
A spark of happiness you shouldn't feel warms your heart. You try to smother it.
In a small voice, he insists, "Don't you miss me?"
Your heart screams yes, but you don't say anything. Eddie stands up, the sound of the chair scraping against the floor sounding alarming to your ears.
“We've been friends for…what? Twelve years? And you're going to tell me that you've simply decided that you don't like my company now?”
“Eddie,” you finally say. "Stop."
You uncross your arms, using your hands to lean against the kitchen counter behind you instead, fighting the urge to run. Whether in Eddie's direction or the opposite, you're still unsure.
"Why? So you can go back to erasing me from your life again without saying anything?” he asks, putting the chair back in place before moving towards you. “You can say it to my face, then. Say you hate me.”
"I don't hate you."
"You certainly don't like me."
"I-"
“Or think of me.”
“I never said-”
"If you tell me to leave now, I swear I will and I won't come back," he promises and you know it's true. But then, slower, lighter, almost whispering, he adds, “…but that's not what I want.”
You should tell him to go away, to leave. You know he won't give up if you don't tell him to do so, but you can't bring yourself to be cruel to him, not even to protect your own heart.
So instead, the spark of hope becomes a flame inside your chest and you find yourself asking, “And what do you want?”
For a good five seconds, Eddie looks at you like he's facing a crossroads. Then he comes closer and places his hands over yours, one on either side of you, any definition of personal space momentarily forgotten as he moves his face closer to yours.
“I want…,” he begins, and it's thanks to the way you can feel each word that leaves his lips that you're made aware of how close you are, that you're between him and the kitchen counter. That he's about to kiss you. “I want to-”
His forehead rests against yours, his eyes slowly fluttering closed. The words he wants to say never make it past his mouth.
He is about to kiss you, right?
“Eddie-”
Eddie leans back just enough to consider the expression on your face, eyes big and brown and warm.
"You want me to go?" he whispers.
“No,” you're not surprised at how quickly you respond. Your hand slips from under his to brush a dark curl out of his eyes. "I broke our promise, though."
"It's okay."
He leans in. You feel his lips at the corner of your mouth and let out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I'll go to every single one of your gigs from now on-"
“Please,” he begs, a distinct hint of affection behind his words. "Stop talking."
"What you're doing?"
His upper lip touches yours. You can feel his reluctant smile when he says, “A grand gesture, I hope.”
And then, Eddie closes the gap — your breath catches the very moment his mouth meets yours, his kiss gentle, slow, a step too big to be taken all at once. He leans in and you feel his chest against yours, one hand sliding to the small of your back and pressing you even closer, another moving up your arm, over your shoulder, to the crook of your neck and your jaw. He holds your face and you sigh against his mouth, your lips parted invitation enough for him to deepen the kiss.
And God, being kissed like this does feel like a grand gesture.
He tastes exactly like you thought he would and somehow entirely different at the same time — something familiar, something safe, but also something new and fiery and wonderful.
You're breathing heavily — Eddie not much different — when he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, eyes still closed.
“Tell me to stay,” he whispers. In the silence of the empty house, it's more than enough. “Please tell me you want me to stay, sweetheart, 'cause I have no fucking idea how to stay away from you.”
You're still coming to your senses, all too aware of the hand he keeps tightly on your waist, of the gentle movement of his calloused thumb against your cheek.
You wrap your arms around his neck and smile the most genuine smile he's ever seen on your face.
“As if I’d ever let you go after this, Munson.”
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lavendermunson · 4 months
Text
i want you, bless my soul - eddie munson
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from the candy cane box at leia's christmas tree farm
summary best friend au, with the prompt “So, um. That was something. Should we do that again?” for the one and only @onegirlmanytales thank you for requesting my love, I hope you like the direction I took and enjoy it so much!!
cw FLUFF. best friends to lovers. two oblivious idiots in love. r's first kiss. brief mention of insecurities. steve and robin cameo!
w.c 1.7k
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“No one has ever kissed me… let’s just forget about it!”
You sigh, placing the freshly baked cookies on a beautiful porcelain bowl Eddie gave you last Christmas. Their scent calming every nerve your best friend decides to play with today.  All of your friends are arriving in a couple of minutes for the annual Christmas party.
“You are telling me no one has ever kissed you under the rain?”
“Eddie please, just stop it”
“No one has ever kissed you under the moonlight!”
He tries to guess. You regret telling him about your first kiss. It hasn’t happened yet… but he thinks it has, he just thinks it was bad or embarrassing because you’ve never told him. And you tell him everything, he is your best friend.
“You are never going to guess, I'm tired of this now”
He chases you around your house, as you walk with the bowl of cookies in your hands. You place them on the coffee table of your living room, alongside all the other snacks and drinks to enjoy the night. 
“I know! no one has ever kissed you under the mistletoe. That’s why you don’t have one” 
Eddie thinks he hit the jackpot, smiling brightly at you. 
“No one has ever kissed me, okay!” you snap, tired of his games. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet” 
You throw your hands in the air, standing in front of him. Eddie was the only one who didn’t know about this. The rest of your friends know, because you know they weren’t going to laugh or make fun of you. But Eddie is capable of it, not because he is mean. His personality is just like that, he is the joke expert and the prank master. This was a serious topic to you, something that kept toying with your self-esteem.
Your arms fall to the side, your hands close on a fist, white knuckles and eyes shut trying to hide the embarrassment that’s eating you alive as you wait for Eddie to laugh at you and make a hundred jokes about this. 
You wish the floor could swallow you whole.
Eddie notices the way you tense up, confessing the secret you’ve held for a long time. He thought there was some catch to it, but there wasn’t. Who the fuck can live without ever kissing your lips? he asks himself, when he has been dreaming about it since the first time he met you at the arcade. 
You were babysitting the kids, holding their quarters for them as you paced around the sticky carpet. Back when Eddie’s ears got used to quieting down everything around him except your sweet voice. 
He didn’t want to lose you, he could never. And he was sure he wasn’t your type, with your room having a Karate Kid poster and a picture of Michael Schoeffling ripped out of a magazine.
Missing the picture of Eddie Van Halen on your jewelry box, he knew your type was far away from him. 
You were never going to like him, his friends would tease him about it. They would fill Eddie’s mind with ideas that tormented him before going to bed. You are way too out of his league.
He is happy with the best friend title because he gets the best friend treatment. He gets to hug you when you see him, cuddle with you on movie nights, and hang around his trailer all day. He would never trade your presence for anything, not a metal concert, not even the fame some rockstars get overnight.
For Eddie you are everything, you mean everything. His life is so much better with you around.
But he doesn’t laugh or start making a full comedy show, instead, you hear the thump of things falling out of his pockets. His lighter, a pack of cigarettes, previously chewed gum wrapped in a piece of paper, and his van keys. He empties his pockets trying to find what he has been looking for and when he finds it, he goes around your house looking for tape.
“What are you doing with that? no one is coming here to kiss me, only our friends” 
“Well? m’lady. I doubt you want to spend another Christmas unkissed” He takes your hand, guiding you closer to him until you are both under the mistletoe. “This is how it works, you stand here, and as the rule says you kiss the person in front of you”
You watch as Eddie taps the branch with his finger. Pointing at it, then at him, and finally at you. You are exactly in the spot, you look at him. Begging him to kiss you.
You've thought about it for a while. What would it be like to kiss him? Not someone random, not a guy who coats your ears with sugar at work. Just Eddie.
The guy who sits on the edge of his bed, shirtless, and while his fingers are gentle with the strings of his guitar you can’t do anything else but admire. Trying to memorize all of his features and tattoo that scene on your head for the rest of your life.
The guy who asked you to color his tattoos, trusting your artistic eye and trying to kill time before the pizza got to his trailer. You asked for a rain check that night, knowing you’d lose your mind the second your fingers touched his bare chest.
“And who’s gonna kiss me?” you ask. 
“Uhh, Jonathan?” Eddie asks, raising one of his eyebrows. Trying to question you to see who your type is.
“I pass” 
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice cracks. If you passed at Jonathan, there’s a high chance you could say yes to Steve and he would fall to his knees, defeated. 
“I don’t think so” 
His brown eyes are wide open. Shit. Not even Steve?
“Let’s just enjoy our evening…” Unless you want to kiss me, you think.  “Let’s forget about it”
You try to escape from the compromised positions, but your legs feel heavy as you step aside. You thought Eddie was going to kiss you. 
When you try to escape, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you back to him.
“Wait”
You feel a jolt of electricity, his touch being hard on you yet not hurting. His eyes looking for yours and when you finally lock your gaze with his. He takes a deep breath, ready to risk it all.
Eddie pulls you to his chest, resting a hand on the small of your back. You feel the goosebumps all over your body, his breath tingling your lips. He notices the shine in your eyes, pleading for him to do something because you are too nervous to move.
If he wanted to kiss you, he would kiss you. That’s what you believe. 
He looks at your eyes, at your lips. Impatient, he is making you melt under his touch, and you feel your insides are screaming at him to do something. You decide to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of him slipping through your fingers and regretting this moment.
You capture him. As he looks down at you like a starved man. 
Eddie’s mind is clouded with hundreds of thoughts. This could be so good, this could get bad and ugly. It’s your first kiss, it should be special. It should be with someone you like, Do you like him? Do you want him?
He snaps back to reality when you reach for a strand of hair that fell to his face. Tugging the curl in the back of his ear. Your fingers send shivers through his spine, feeling your gentle touch against his skin. He melts under your touch too.
“Let’s get this over with” he breathes out, digging his fingertips on the small of your back to keep you close. His lips press against yours, you close your eyes enjoying the moment. 
But it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what to do, but just as you start to panic Eddie cups your cheeks, his thumb pressing against your warm skin. 
“Relax” he whispers on your lips, taking control of the situation. You feel his lips crash with yours, dancing against them as you try to keep up with the pace.
Is this how it feels? To kiss someone for the first time, or even better, to kiss the boy you love for the first time. Your mind is in the clouds, every part of your body feels lighter as a feather.
His lips are so soft. What the actual fuck? How were you able to survive so long without this?
It’s your first kiss. But it feels like it’s Eddie’s too. He can feel his body fill up with electricity, his heart thumping against his chest – just like yours – He has kissed girls before, even boys. But this feeling is new, he is finally kissing someone he loves.
“WOAH! They are kissing” You break away from the kiss as you hear Robin’s voice. She looks at you then at Eddie, a smile showing off on her face. “Sorry, keep doing that!” 
“Good job, guys!” Steve says, pushing Robin to the kitchen as she keeps her thumbs up in the air.
Eddie shakes his head, looking down at you. Seeing that smile he loves so much as you giggle, with your body so close to his. You try to catch the air he knocked out of your lungs, keeping him pressed against you.
“Woah indeed” His eyes look at the mistletoe, at your puffy pink lips, and at your flushed cheeks. He grins proudly. 
“That was… something” you smile, scrunching up your nose as you look at his matching pink lips and cheeks.
“Should we do it again?” he asks, his chest heaving up and down. 
“Please” you whisper, feeling your body yearning for more of him.
“Anything you want, princess”
He kisses you again, this time he quickens the pace of it. You feel his tongue brush against yours causing you to whimper. He giggles at your reaction, groaning for more of you. Eddie is addicted to your taste already. If the smell of your chapstick made him crazy, this sure is going to kill him.
You start to move your tongue, feeling the closure as your teeth crash with his, and the mix of chapstick and saliva, with a touch of cigarette coats your bottom lip. You can’t get enough of the feeling of his lips keeping yours warm and nice.
“Fuck, you taste good” his shaky words come out as he takes a breather, inches from your lips. His teeth find your bottom lip, nipping at it as you open your mouth for him once again.
You won't be spending Christmas unkissed.
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reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, your support means so much to me  🎄
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megxplryxb · 1 year
Text
Roommate Romance
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Pairings: Roommate!Steve x Reader
Notes: Apologies for the long delay, I've had some personal stuff going on lately so thank you all for sticking with me! <3
Disclaimer: Not my gif
It was a little after 9pm on an uneventful Saturday evening, Steve was lying across the shoddy leather couch in the small but cosy living room in nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants he had put on after his shower. He groaned in frustration as he flicked through the channels trying to find something interesting to watch, having long given up on reading some boring ass book that Eddie had given him when he heard a key turn in the door of the apartment he shared with you and Robin.
The latter had left to stay in Vickie’s house twenty minutes ago but Steve assumed Robin had forgotten something and come back for it 'cause he wasn't expecting you home for another couple of hours at least. He flinched a little when he heard the door open and close with a louder than usual bang, hearing heels click through the hallway and towards the kitchen. He knew it was you immediately, the scent of your jasmine perfume filling his nostrils as he pushed himself up from the couch to follow you down the hallway to make sure everything was alright, noting he hadn't heard a second pair of feet follow you inside.
Earlier at the video store, Robin had told Steve about a date you were going on that evening with a guy you’d met while waitressing at Enzo’s during the week. Steve had tried his best to hide his jealousy when Robin began to describe the guy, tuning out her ramblings once she mentioned that he was a “total babe”. She knew that Steve had a crush on you, noticing his attempts to flirt with you on a regular basis but she had made him promise that he wouldn't make a move on you, because she didn't want things to get awkward with you all living under the same roof. But fuck, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted to bend the rules from time to time and sometimes, he even thought that was exactly what you wanted him to do too.
Steve leaned his shoulder against the doorway of the small, compact, kitchen, watching as you unsuccessfully reached for a wineglass on the top shelf of the cupboard over the sink. He bit on the corner of his lip as your tiny black dress lifted ever so slightly, about to reveal parts of you that he knew he shouldn't be staring at and if he didn't look away now, he didn't know how he would explain the tent growing in his pants when you eventually turned to face him.
"Need a hand?" He smirked, as you let out a small yelp, not expecting Steve to be home already and definitely not expecting to see him standing there in just his sweatpants.
"Jesus Christ, Steve! You almost gave me a heart attack!" You pant, placing a hand across your chest, trying to look away from his bare chest.
"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. God princess, you're in heels and you still can't reach." He teased as you shot him a glare.
"No shit Sherlock, are you going to help or just stand there staring at me?" You questioned, rolling your eyes at the boy.
"I mean honestly, it's a pretty good view." Steve flirted, while you began to feel the heat rush to your face, hoping you had enough make up on to cover your flushed cheeks.
"Will you just quit being a perv and help me already?"
"A please would be nice." He replied, still smirking at you.
"Harrington, I swear to god..."
"What? It's just one little word, it's not even that hard to say." Steve laughed, knowing he was getting under your skin and you were in no mood for his jokes.
"Forget it, I'll get it myself." You stated, turning back to the sink, one knee on the counter top as you began to pull yourself up.
"Hey, hey, what are you doing, are you trying to break your damn ankle?" Steve entered the kitchen, his hands rushing to grab your waist and pull you back down again.
"STEVE!"
"Relax sweetheart, I got it.” He whispered, setting you down, moving behind you, one hand on your shoulder, his toned chest pressing lightly against your back and you prayed he didn't feel the shiver that went all the way down your spine as he reached up for the glass. You had to remind yourself to breath with the feeling of him so close to you, his skin touching yours. You could smell his cologne, the shampoo from his still damp hair and his usual boyish scent that was nothing other than Steve.
"All yours princess, you're welcome by the way." Steve teased, finally handing you the wineglass as your lips pulled in to a smile. You secretly wondered if he knew the effect he had on you, cause you just couldn’t stay mad at him for long. Not when he looked like that, staring at you like he was challenging you to make the next move.
"Why are you home anyway, weren't you working tonight?" You asked, shaking your thoughts away, leaning against the counter, letting out an instant sigh of relief once you removed the heels you'd been wearing all evening. Steve swallowed hard hearing the little moan of pleasure fall from your mouth with the feeling of the cold tiles under your sore feet as you tossed the shoes in the corner.
"Uh, Keith let me go early, the store was pretty dead." He answered, rubbing the back of his neck.
"That doesn't sound like Keith." You replied confused, knowing Keith wasn't that nice of a boss.
"Well, it might have had something to do with the new porno movies being delivered to the store tonight. Think he wanted first dibs." He chuckled as you scrunched your nose in disgust. “Yeah, that sounds more like Keith."
"Anyways, wasn't expecting you home for a while either, Robin mentioned you had a hot date tonight." Steve teased, folding his arms as you let out a sarcastic laugh, moving by him to take a bottle of wine from the fridge.
"Yeah, I thought so too. Turns out, not so hot." You reveal, pouring yourself a drink, taking a quick sip as Steve kept his eyes on you. Selfishly, he was glad that your date turned out to be a bust, because the thought of you being out with some guy that wasn't him had been driving Steve crazy all evening.
"Wanna talk about it?" He asked, before you walked back to the fridge grabbing a beer and offering it to him. "Wanna get a little drunk first?"
"Y..yeah, sure." He nodded, trying to take the bottle from your hand but you pulled it back, smirking at your friend. "Not so fast Harrington, go put on a shirt, then you can have this."
"Why, am I distracting you, princess?" Steve winked, heading to his room, throwing on the first t-shirt he could find before following you towards the living room.
Of course he was distracting you and you cursed Robin for making you promise never to cross that line with her best friend all those months ago when you decided to live together. You liked Steve, a lot, more than Robin even realised. He was everything you'd usually look for in a boyfriend and more but since nothing could ever happen between you, you'd made it your mission to find someone else and forget about Steve Harrington. That turned out to be easier said that done when he walked around shirtless on a daily basis.
An hour had passed and you and Steve were finally starting to feel the effects of the alcohol you had been consuming. When you couldn’t decide on a movie to watch, he played some music from the pretty expensive stereo his parents had given him as a house warming gift when he moved out. Steve was slouched on one side of the little couch while you occupied the other half, lying length ways so your feet were slumped across his legs, a pillow resting on your tummy for comfort, still wearing your dress.
It was nice to have a night with just Steve, it was never just the two of you with Robin, Vickie, Eddie or the kids usually hanging out with you both too.
“So come on, tell me, what happened with your date?” Steve asked, bringing the beer bottle to his lips as you groaned.
"I don't think I'm drunk enough yet." You muttered, pouring more wine in to your glass.
"Was it really that bad?" He asked as he watched your face change. "It was worse than bad, Steve."
"Worse than Cassie Peterson throwing up on me in the movie theatre?" He questioned as you widened your eyes in shock, almost spitting out your wine. "Oh my god! You never told me that?"
"I didn't tell anybody! It was so embarrassing, the whole place was staring at us." He explained as you laughed out loud.
"Is that why you never called her again? Robin was dying to know what happened between you." You teased as he began to explain himself, running a hand through his brown locks.
"She ruined my favourite sweater! Of course I never called her again.” Steve responded, taking a swig from his bottle of beer.
"It's not like she meant to throw up on you, Steve. I bet she felt way worse about it than you did." You giggled at your friend's childish behaviour.
"Hey, I was a total gentleman. I got her some water, made sure she got home safe, all while stinking of vomit I might add! I could've just left her there, I mean she literally barfed all over me." He joked but you knew Steve would never actually do that to anyone.
"She must have been mortified!" You cringed, placing a hand over your face from second hand embarrassment.
"Oh that wasn't even the worst part, she actually leaned in for me to kiss her goodnight when I dropped her home!" Steve revealed as you tried hard not to gag.
"Oh Steve, please tell me you didn't..."
"Of course I didn't! I lied and told her I had a coldsore, then ran back to my car." He chuckled, opening another beer as you threw your head back in hysterics. "Wow, I feel sooo much better about my date now.” You sighed, sipping your wine.
"I swear to Christ if you ever tell Robin that story, I’ll never give you a ride to work again.” Steve threatened, smiling at you.
“I cross my heart Harrington, I’ll take it to the grave with me.” You say sweetly as he rolls his eyes. “Please, we both know you’re gonna tell Robin the minute she walks in that door tomorrow.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” You smile as he shakes his head.
"Anyways princess, enough about my horrible dating life, time to hear about yours.” Steve clapped, while you sat up on the couch, pulling your legs under you, taking a deep breath.
“Ok, so I met him a couple of days ago in work, he came in to pick up lunch for his Boss and he seemed totally nice, y'know? Very handsome, good dresser, nice hair..." You said as Steve began to cough, looking overly offended. "Not as nice as yours Steve, don't worry." You reassured, patting his head.
"Just making sure, princess."
"Anyway, we got talking, flirted a little and he eventually asked if he could take me to dinner. So he picked me up for our date here, gave me a bunch of flowers, opened the car door….”
"So far, he sounds like a real asshole." Steve smirked sarcastically, before pressing his lips to the bottle of beer.
"Guess where he took me for dinner?” You said as Steve tried to read your face. “I dunno, some fancy restaurant with valet parking?”
“He took me to Enzo's, Steve, the place I work five days a week, on my day off!" You whine as Steve started to chuckle at your reaction.
"Maybe he was trying to be nice y'know? Like, maybe he thought you'd feel safer going there with him because you didn't know him and....”
"He took me there because he thought they'd give us a discount." You interrupted, folding your arms. "Did they?" Steve asked as you shook your head.
"Of course not, it wasn't expensive anyway, we didn't even make it past the appetisers." You revealed, drinking the last of the wine in your glass.
"He was just that irresistible, huh?" Steve joked as you playfully nudged him with your foot.
"Totally, I just couldn't wait to rip his clothes off. All that discount talk was too much of a turn on.” You gagged, sticking your tongue out.
“It could’ve been worse…” Steve stated as you wagged your finger at him. “Oh it was, I’m not done yet.” You giggled, pouring more wine in to your glass.
“This elderly couple came in a couple of minutes after us and his whole demeanour changed when he saw them.”
“Parents? Oh Jesus, did they join you for dinner or somethin’?” Steve questioned as you placed a hand over his mouth to stop him from speaking again.
“They weren’t his parent’s. They were his parent’s neighbours and when the lady came over to say hello to him, he introduced me as a work colleague.”
“That’s weird.” Steve said, raising a brow.
“Right? So, I asked him why he said that and he said that she likes to gossip and he’s very private, I accepted that, I’m pretty private too. But then! He left the table to go to use the restroom and the lady came over again and….”
“Did she want a discount too?” The boy joked as you threw a pillow at his face. “Steve! I’m trying to finish my story!” You hiccuped as he held his hands up, holding back another laugh. “I’m sorry, go ahead princess, tell me what happened.”
“She asked me if I was really his work colleague so, I said no because obviously something weird was going on right? Then she told me that he’s already in a relationship and had only proposed to the poor girl two months ago!” You revealed, watching the shock form on Steve’s face.
“You’re fucking kidding me?” He said as you shook your head. “I’m totally serious.”
“What did you do?” Steve asked, hanging on to your every word. His blood starting boil as you continued your story, all his instincts telling him to go find the guy and kick his ass.
“I thanked her for telling me, ordered them an expensive bottle of champagne and told the guys to charge that asshole for it!” You smiled proudly. “Man, what a creep! How did he think he was going to get away with something like that in a small town like this?"
“Honestly, I have no idea. He even came after me, telling me we could finish the date somewhere else!” You shivered as Steve scoffed in disbelief.
"Why didn't you call me to come pick you up?" He asked, looking at you a little more seriously than he had been all night. “I thought you were working.” You shrugged, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You could’ve called the store, you know I would have come for you, right?” Steve says softly, placing his warm hand on your knee while you nod your head. “I know you would have, Steve." You blush, noticing that he hadn't moved his hand away, still looking at you intently.
"Anyways, cheers to no more bad dates!" You tease, raising the almost empty wine glass to clink with Steve's bottle as he lets out a small chuckle. "Honestly, I don't think I could handle going on any more bad dates.”
"We should totally make a pact, you know, like if we're both still single by the time we're thirty five, we'll just marry each other!" You jokingly suggest as Steve shakes his head.
"Thirty five huh? That's over a decade away sweetheart..." He huffs.
"So?" You laugh, shrugging your shoulders.
"So, that's a lot of sex to be missing out on having with you." The boy admits, eyes widening when he realises what he's just said.
"Oh really? And what makes you think I'd have sex with you?" You challenge, raising a brow at the boy who smirks confidently at you.
"Well theoretically speaking princess, you'd be my wife, so I'd kind of hope that if you were having sex with anybody, It'd be with me."
"You're so cocky sometimes, you know that?" You roll your eyes as he finishes the end of the bottle. "Come on princess, like you never thought about it before." Steve teases as your cheeks begin to flush.
"Thought about what?" You question trying to play dumb. You knew exactly what he meant.
"Us." He answers, eyes completely focused on your reaction.
"I can't say I have." You lie and Steve knows it , because he moves closer to your side of the couch, brushing strands of hair out of your face and he swears he hears a little whimper from you when he touches your cheek.
"So, if I said I wanted to kiss you right now would you let me? Cause I'm not sure I can wait until I'm thirty five for something to happen between us." Steve whispers as you clench your thighs, biting on your bottom lip.
"Steve we can't, I want to, I do, but I promised Robin I..."
"She made you promise too huh?" He smirks as you nodded a yes. "She said she didn't want things to get complicated." You whine while Steve presses his forehead to yours, pulling you in to his lap.
"Sweetheart, I think we're already there, don't you?"
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estrellami-1 · 8 months
Text
If I Should Stay
Part 1 | . . . | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16
Steve gets home and enters into chaos.
The older teens are nowhere to be found—Steve hopes they’re still in the shed—but the boys are arguing, pointing first at sheets on the table, then each other.
“No, you dumbass-”
“Oh, I’m the dumbass? I’m the one who forgot oxygen?”
Steve sighs. “Always the damn babysitter,” he mumbles to himself, fighting a smile. “Alright, cut it out!” He says, loud enough to be heard over the arguing. Immediately, everyone turns to him. He crosses his arms and nods at them. “What’s going on?”
Immediately they’re all talking over each other, doing their best to give Steve a headache. He sighs and raises a hand, and slowly they all peter off. “One at a time. Lucas?”
Lucas sighs. “We’re still trying to figure out the best way to weaponize fire down there.”
“And you’re disagreeing on something?”
“Yeah, we all think it would be best to do it different ways.”
Steve nods. “Write down a list of all the pros and cons you can think of. Pass the lists around in case you’ve forgotten something. When they’ve all been passed around, compare them together. But please, if it’s at all possible for you, do it quietly. If for no other reason than El’s still resting.”
“Oh,” Mike says quietly, and they all get to work, scribbling out their lists.
Steve sighs and scans the rest of the room, smiling when he sees Eddie leaning on the doorway. “Hey. Wanna help me bring stuff in?”
“Sure,” Eddie shrugs, and follows him out. It’s silent for a few moments before he speaks. “Y’know, a part of me was hesitant to believe everything until just about three minutes ago.”
Steve chuckles. “It does sound crazy,” he agrees. “What changed your mind?”
“You,” Eddie says simply, like it doesn’t send Steve’s heart jackrabbiting in his chest. “The way you are with the kids.”
Steve chuckles. “Y’know that’s the very reason we started to get along, before?” He glances at Eddie as he shuts the trunk. “We saw how we were with them. We were both a little jealous of each other, mainly cause of Dustin. I swear, he was always going on about Eddie this, Eddie that, greatest Dungeon Master ever but don’t tell Will, and… I started to feel like I was being replaced.” He smirks. “Course, then you told me how he practically worshiped me, and I realized Dustin’s just being a shithead.”
Eddie snorts. “From what I’ve seen of them, that does seem pretty accurate.”
“I know this probably doesn’t mean much to you, but I’m glad you’re here.” He smiles at Eddie and walks inside, giving Eddie a second alone outside.
He almost runs into Robin as he turns the corner, steadying himself, the bag, and her. She looks up at his face, wide-eyed, then slowly morphs the look into a judgy one.
“What?”
“Quit breaking his brain, Dingus, let him actually like you as a person first.”
“How the hell could you tell that from my face?”
She gives him another supremely judgy look. “Have you forgotten I’ve known you for years? Steve,” she sighs, taking the bag from him. He lets her. “Don’t forget this is four years ago for them. At this point, does he even know who Chrissy is?”
“Okay,” Steve admits, “you may have a point. But we had a breakthrough just now! We were talking and he said he believes me because of how I am with the boys!”
Robin sighs again. “And did you respond with something that happens in the future?”
Steve splutters. “How do you do that?”
“I’ve known you for years, Stevie-boy, don’t forget.” She ruffles his hair as she passes. “Leave the future out of it,” she advises. “Live in the now.”
“Kinda hard to do, considering we’re here to change the future,” he says, just to be contrary. She gives him a look like she knows what he’s doing.
“Talk to him like you’re getting to know him for the first time, Steve. Because that’s where he is. Everything about the Upside Down, and even the kids… that’s all secondary. You got along because your personalities match. Give them a chance to.” She smirks at him. “And maybe show off a little bit of that Harrington charm I know is in there somewhere.”
He shakes his head, grinning. “You’ll see one day, Robs, I’ve got game.”
She grins, ruffling his hair one last time before dancing out of reach as he squawks at her. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Dingus.” She leaves, bringing the bag into the other room, and he sighs and follows her, wondering—not for the first time—how he ended up with her as a best friend.
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thefreakandthehair · 1 year
Text
my fiance asked me this morning if "the shirt with the face on it" was dirty when it fell out of the hamper on the stairs. the shirt was my sublime tee shirt lmao. so, I've decided to take that interaction and make it steddie. also projecting my current fight against spring here, too. fluffy domesticity. enjoy!
It's Sunday. Otherwise known as Laundry Day.
Eddie groans and hefts the hamper up into his arms, trekking it downstairs to the laundry room off of the kitchen. Bandit nearly trips him on the fourth step but he saves the basket from tumbling, as well as himself, and sets about tossing everything in the machine.
"How do two people end up with so much goddamn laundry?" He mumbles to himself, sighing as he realizes it's another two-load week. Laundry isn't a task that typically falls to Eddie, but with Steve being attacked by every bit of pollen and ragweed an Indiana spring can produce, he offers to take over.
And by offers, he just does it. Even with one eye swollen, a raw nose, and a pocketful of tissues because he can't go more than five minutes without blowing his nose, Eddie knows that Steve will still try to push himself. Over the years they've known each other, he knows better than to ask or offer. He knows to just do.
As the first load spins and rinses, Eddie sets about making coffee and plops himself at the small, standalone island next to the window. Yellow daffodils planted by the previous owners of the house are starting to pop up along the walkway to the back deck, there are tiny green buds on the previously bare shrubs, and the sky is bright blue, expanding undisturbed into the distance as far as the eye can see. It'd be a beautiful sight, if only all of those blooms weren't to blame for the sneezing he hears from upstairs.
He loves spring, but he loves Steve more, and he's mad at the daffodils for making his boyfriend suffer.
Eddie transfers the clean laundry into the dryer and refills the washer with the second load when he hears tell-tale sniffling approaching him.
"Hey," a nasally voice appears behind him. "Is this shirt with the angel on it dirty? Think it fell outta the basket."
"What shirt with an angel on it?" Eddie asks, closing the lid to the machine and pushing Start. When he turns, he sees Steve wrapped in one of Eddie's well-worn black hoodies with holes in the sleeves for his thumbs and equally worn-in sweatpants. His hair is limp, his face is blotchy, and his lips are slightly ajar to accommodate for not being able to breathe through his nose. It's a sight almost pitiful enough for Eddie to forget what he'd just asked. Until he sees the shirt in question.
"This one," Steve holds it up before handing it over.
"Shirt with an ang—" Eddie laughs under his breath, staring down at the Led Zeppelin tee-shirt he'd been gifted by Wayne what feels like a lifetime ago. He just shakes his head and pauses the washer to toss it in.
"You're lucky you're cute." He smiles, pulling Steve into a hug.
Steve lets himself be held and wraps his arms around Eddie's waist, nestling his nose into the warmth of Eddie's shoulder. He grumbles something that sounds like shut the fuck up against his skin in jest, but Eddie chooses to ignore it.
Instead he simply kisses the side of Steve's temple and guides him to the kitchen island.
"Let's get you some breakfast, and maybe another Claritin."
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ghosttotheparty · 1 year
Text
lonely with you
part two also on ao3 cw: alcohol; weed; panic attack; nsfw
“Hey, uhm. Can we talk for a minute?”
Eddie pauses as he rummages through his bag, crouched on the floor as he shoves the worksheet he just got to the bottom of his bag. (He’ll probably forget about it. Again.) He looks up to find Steve Harrington standing over him, looking down at him with an almost anxious look in his eye.
“Uh.” Eddie pauses, looking him up and down. “Sure?”
“Like…”
Steve gestures with a tilt of his chin down the hall, toward the bathroom. Eddie glances down the hall, his hand still in his bag, and then he nods, zipping his bag up and tossing it over his shoulder as he follows him down the hall.
Steve’s hair moves while he walks, almost bouncing with each step. It’s shiny. It’s so much healthier than Eddie’s is. It looks soft.
Eddie pushes the thought away as the door shuts behind them as Steve turns to look at him after checking to make sure there’s no one in the stalls. His arms are crossed over his chest like he’s defensive, like he’s hiding, and he leans against the wall by the sinks.
“I don’t have anything on me today,” Eddie says, dropping his bag. “I can take an order and get back to you, or…”
He trails off when he sees the confusion flicker in Steve’s eyes, and then Steve blinks.
“That’s not… Uhm. What I wanted to talk about.”
“Oh,” Eddie says. “Okay. What’s going on, then?” He leans against the wall across from him, pushing his hands into his pockets as he eyes him confusedly. He’s never had an actual conversation with Steve Harrington, nothing beyond weed or pills exchanged for cash at parties, but Steve has always been different from the others that Eddie sold to. He always smiled. Nobody else ever smiles, not unless they’re already high. But Steve, fully sober, always, always gives Eddie this soft, kind, friendly smile that always lingers in Eddie’s mind afterwards.
It’s not that he has a crush. Steve Harrington is attractive, Eddie knows that. Everyone knows that. He’s Steve Harrington. But Eddie apparently has a little bit of a soft spot for anyone that’s kind of him, anyone that smiles at him like he’s just a person instead of the local druggie, weirdo, freak. And apparently anyone is just Steve.
“Uh.” Steve hesitates, lifting a hand and biting his thumbnail anxiously, looking at the floor. “I’ve heard some, uhm. Rumors. About you.”
Eddie blinks, raising an eyebrow. There are lots of rumors about him.
“That you’re…” Steve continues, his eyes shining brightly, nervously. He’s shaking a little bit. “That you’re— you’re queer?”
Eddie blinks again.
His stomach twists, and part of him wants to snap at him. Fuck you, Harrington. Because the last boy that pulled him aside and brought that rumor up, that asked if it’s true, just had Eddie kneel on the floor and suck him off before he left. Eddie liked it, liked the weight of his dick in his mouth, the feeling of his fingers in his hair, but he didn’t like the way the boy coldly said Keep your mouth shut about this as though Eddie would have told anyone. And he didn’t like the way the boy barely looked at him ever again, except when he bought from him in front of his friends, and he didn’t like the way the next time Eddie tried to talk to him he snapped at him that it was a one-time thing.
I’m not— I’m not like you. I just wanted to get off.
Eddie wants to walk past Steve, to let the door slam behind him, because he never wants another boy to look at him like that again. Disgusted. Like he didn’t ask for it. Like he didn’t beg for it.
But Steve is staring at him, unblinking, his eyes shining so brightly it looks like he might start crying, and he’s shaking, and Eddie is saying, “Yeah,” before he can say anything.
“Is it… Is it true?” Steve asks quietly, whispering.
“Yeah,” Eddie says.
Yeah.
He’s never said it out loud before. That he’s gay. Queer.
He never had to say it out loud to Wayne. He knew the day Eddie moved in with him, murmured that everything was okay as he put the colourful band-aid on his face.
Steve exhales. He nods. Looks at the ground.
Eddie waits. It’s quiet in the bathroom, and one of the sinks is dripping, the quiet tap tap tap tap tap echoing in the tile room.
“Why do you ask?” Eddie asks after a long minute. Steve lifts his head. His lips are pressed together, and he looks away from Eddie as a tear falls down his cheek. “Whoa, what’s wrong?” Eddie says, panicking a little, standing up straight off the wall he’s leaning on and moving a little bit closer. “Are you okay?”
“I—” Steve wipes his face quickly, and Eddie’s stomach twists again. “I think I might… be like you.”
Eddie freezes, looking at him.
“Like me,” he repeats slowly. Steve nods, blinking tears out of his eyes, and he looks so… scared. Eddie’s whole body hurts. “Oh.”
“I just… I’m kind of freaking out about it, and I— I don’t know what to do, and I didn’t know who to talk to about it, but I needed to…”
“It’s cool,” Eddie says reassuringly, trying to smile. “Steve, it’s fine, man, alright? I won’t tell anyone.”
Steve nods, squeezing his eyes shut and wiping his face again. Eddie steps past him into a stall and grabs some toilet paper, bunching it up before he gives it to him, and Steve takes it with a quiet, “Thank you,” and then a muttered apology.
“You don’t have to be sorry, man,” Eddie says softly. “It’s cool.”
Steve uses the paper to wipe his face. His cheeks are pink, and they redden more as he rubs tears off his skin too roughly. Eddie kind of wants to take over, to wipe his tears softly, gently, the way he deserves. He doesn’t.
“It’s…” He hesitates. Steve looks at him. “It’s cool to… know there’s someone else. That gets it.”
Steve nods, half-smiling.
It’s quiet for a moment as he sniffles, looking at the ground again, at his clean white sneakers next to Eddie’s dirty black chucks. Eddie reaches out for him hesitantly, touching his forearm, and he pulls gently. Steve falls against him easily, and their arms wrap around each other tightly. They sway slightly, quiet as they embrace each other, and Eddie squeezes his eyes shut.
“Steve,” he says after a few moments. “You listening?”
“Yeah?”
Eddie pulls back enough to look at him, holding his shoulders firmly. Steve’s hands find his forearms, gentle and tentative. Eddie hesitates for a moment before he speaks.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he says firmly. Steve’s lip quivers. “You understand me?” he says quietly, leaning closer as he speaks, and Steve’s hands tighten on his arms. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”
“Okay,” Steve says weakly.
“Okay,” Eddie repeats softly, He squeezes Steve’s shoulders.
The bell rings as Steve is taking a deep breath, and Eddie pauses as he watches Steve lean down to pick up his bag. He looks tired now, drained and exhausted, but he isn’t crying anymore.
“Uh, hey,” Eddie says before he can leave. Steve looks at him. “...You know where I live, right? Cherry Lane?” Steve nods, looking at him curiously. “...Do you wanna come over tonight? Just to— to talk about it?”
Steve’s lips twitch into a smile, and he nods.
“Thank you,” he says quietly before he leaves.
Eddie leans against the wall Steve had been leaning on, sighing heavily and rubbing his face. He drops his hands after a moment, and he feels different. Lighter. He can’t place exactly what it is that’s different now, but he turns to look in the mirror to see if he looks any different. He doesn’t. Still messy-haired, still weird. He picks his bag up off the ground and leaves.
— — — — —
Wayne leaves for work just as Eddie is getting home, and he pauses in the living room as Eddie is nudging his boots out of the way to ruffle his hair and kiss his forehead. Eddie swats him away, pretending he doesn’t love it. Wayne’s done it since Eddie was a kid, since before he moved in with him. Even Eddie’s own parents never showed him affection like this, but Wayne always did, on his way in and his way out of Eddie’s parents’ house. Eddie always looked forward to it. Now it’s daily, a regular standard for what makes a good day. When Eddie misses him on his way to work he misses it.
Eddie waits in the living room, laying upside down on the sofa with a book above his head. He’s changed into sweatpants and an old sweatshirt that’s stained with bleach, the dark fabric reddish-orange in spots. His hair is falling from the bun he tied it up in as he turns the pages slowly, tapping his feet in time with the music that’s playing from the boombox in the corner. (They got it from one of the neighbors that moved away two years ago; Eddie loves it with all his heart.)
He scrambles up when there’s a knock on the door, stumbling over his own feet and dropping the book. He stoops to pick it up, losing his page, just before he opens the door to find Steve, wide-eyed.
“You okay?” Steve asks, glancing at Eddie’s messy hair.
“I’m very clumsy,” Eddie says, remembering how thin the walls in, and he steps aside, gesturing with the book. “Come on in.”
“I’m aware,” Steve says, stepping past him. “We had gym together last year, it was like watching a baby giraffe learn to walk.”
“Fuck you,” Eddie says, shutting the door, snorting as Steve shoots him an amused look, and they fall quiet as Steve looks around the living room and kitchen. “Uh, it’s not much, but…”
“I like it,” Steve says. He seems to sense Eddie’s disbelief, and he shoots him another look. “I’m serious. It’s nice.” He looks back around. “It looks like you actually live here. My place looks like a goddamn catalogue set.” He wanders slowly, eyes scanning Wayne’s hats and mugs, the stains on the walls. “White walls, white carpets.”
“No childhood mudstains?” Eddie asks, leaning against the table by the door.
“Once,” Steve says, pausing to read one of the trucker hats, smiling absently. “Dad beat the shit outta me and the carpets were replaced within the next three days.”
Eddie blinks, and Steve pauses again, seemingly realizing what he’s just said. He turns a little, his face pink as he looks at Eddie.
“Anyway.”
Eddie scoffs at the lightness of his tone.
“You want a beer?” he asks, heading to the kitchen, wondering what he did in his life to deserve this, Steve Harrington exploring his living room like it’s a fine arts exhibit, like it’s a gallery.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Eddie gets two beers from the fridge and cracks them open with the bottle opener magnet before he passes one to Steve over the sink, and then he beckons with a tilt of his head.
“Think you might like my room,” he says, leading him down the hall.
“Are you trying to flirt with me?”
“Hah.” Eddie ignores the way his face flushes with heat, but Steve doesn’t say anything else before they’re in Eddie’s room, and Eddie moves out of the way as Steve lets out an earnest, “Whoa.”
Eddie grins, taking a sip of his beer as Steve looks, wide-eyed, around the room. The music is still playing in the living room.
Now the tears, they fall like rain I'm alone again without you
Steve wanders slowly, looking at the posters on the walls, the drawings and ripped-out magazine pages, the faded photographs and newspaper clippings, the CORRODED COFFIN tapestry, the guitars. He looks like he’s in awe, almost smiling as he gazes at everything.
“I like it,” he says finally, turning to look at Eddie, who’s sitting on the edge of his bed, and Eddie quirks his eyebrows at him. Steve rolls his eyes and sips his beer, moving to sit on the floor, looking around again, this time at Eddie’s bed and the posters above it, at the mess on Eddie’s nightstand. Eddie slides off the bed onto the floor in front of him.
They’re quiet for a moment. Steve crosses his legs and draws his knees to his chest like he’s trying to shrink in on himself, and it feels odd to see the King like this, small and vulnerable and quiet.
“How did you know that you’re, uhm…” Steve trails off nervously, his lips brushing the top of his bottle.
“You can say gay, Steve,” Eddie says quietly. “‘S not a bad word.”
Steve glances at him.
“How did you know that you’re gay?” he asks. His voice is tentative, soft.
“Don’t think I ever really realized it,” Eddie says. “I think I just kind of always knew. I realized it wasn’t… I don’t know. Normal, I guess. When I was, like, thirteen.”
Steve is listening intently, looking at Eddie over his bottle and his knees, and his eyes are shining in that way again, bright and nervous and shy, and Eddie wonders how this boy in front of him ever became the King of Hawkins High when he’s looking at him like this.
“I kept quiet about it,” Eddie says, sensing that Steve doesn’t have anything to say. “After my dad found out, he… He wasn't happy. Wayne doesn’t mind. We don’t really talk about it, but…”
“How does he know?” Steve asks quietly. Eddie tilts his head.
“Dear old Dad had some choice words to say about me the next time Wayne came to visit. I went home with him that day. I was fifteen. And then the next year, Ma and Dad left town.”
Steve blinks his pretty eyes.
“‘M sorry.”
Eddie shrugs.
“Nothing to be sorry about. I don’t miss them.” He pauses, sipping his beer, then lifts his chin at Steve. “How’d you realize?” he asks, avoiding The Word, because it’s Steve Harrington. Notorious ladies’ man.
Steve shrugs shyly, looking down at the bottle in his hands.
“I don’t think I ever really liked girls,” he says quietly. “I only went out with them after I knew they liked me. I can tell when they’re flirting with me, and it just kind of… I don’t know. Felt like an obligation. I’d get them off if they wanted, but I think they could tell I wasn’t really into it, so we just kind of… Went on.”
Eddie blinks, a little surprised. Steve is still staring at the bottle, his eyes glazed over, and he speaks again, his voice soft like he doesn’t realize he’s speaking out loud.
“I could never get hard. Thought there was something wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Steve,” Eddie says gently. Steve looks at him, his eyes wide like he’s startled, and then he looks away again, his gaze aimless as he looks at the ground. “...Steve?”
Steve takes a shuddering breath.
“...I think I’m dying,” he says so quietly Eddie almost doesn’t hear it. His hands are shaking now, the bottle moving with them, and when his eyes find Eddie’s again, shining with panic and unshed tears, Eddie realizes what’s happening. He reaches out to take the bottle as he sets his own aside.
“You’re not dying, sweetheart,” he says quietly, setting Steve’s bottle aside and moving a little closer. “You’re okay.”
Steve takes a sharp breath, and his eyes flicker back and forth between Eddie’s.
“My heart’s beating too fast,” he says weakly, panting, and Eddie’s chest aches at the fear in his eyes.
“I know,” he whispers, moving forward to touch him, pressing a hand firmly over his chest, over his heart. “It’ll slow down if you slow your breathing, okay?”
“Eddie—”
“Slowly,” Eddie says softly, nodding. “Breathe with me, you got it.” He inhales slowly, watching the way Steve’s eyes lower to watch his mouth. Steve’s hands raise a little bit, reaching for Eddie before they fall. “You can touch me,” Eddie says. “‘S alright.”
Steve’s hands find Eddie’s arms as his legs fall, and he pulls, closing his eyes as he tries to breathe slowly.
“You want me to come closer?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods.
Eddie shifts closer, moving so he can put his legs around him, and Steve clutches at his arms.
“I can’t breathe,” he chokes, opening his eyes to look at Eddie desperately. Tears fall down his cheeks as he gasps for breath.
“Yes, you can,” Eddie says softly, reaching with his other hand to wipe his face, and one of Steve’s hands jumps to it. Eddie thinks he’s about to swat it away, but he holds it to himself, closing his eyes again. Eddie brushes his thumb over his cheek. “Slowly, Stevie, inhale.”
Steve inhales, hiccupping and gasping, and Eddie presses against his heart.
“Hold it for a moment… And out. There you go,” he murmurs, watching the way Steve’s brows furrow in effort, watching the way he’s holding Eddie’s wrist tightly, his fingertips pressing into the fabric of Eddie’s sweatshirt. “Again, in, slow…”
He does it with him, guiding, demonstrating, blowing his hair out of his face as he exhales, and Steve’s breaths slow after a few minutes. His grip on Eddie’s wrist loosens, and he blinks his eyes open. Eddie brushes his thumb over his cheek.
“Alright?” he whispers.
“Sorry,” Steve says softly, turning his face into Eddie’s hands.
“Don’t,” Eddie whispers. “It’s okay.”
Steve takes a long, slow, breath, shuddering. Eddie moves a little closer without letting go of his face. He moves his other hand down, running over Steve’s waist before it rests on his leg.
“I’m…” Steve looks at him, his eyes glistening. “I’m so scared, Eddie,” he says weakly, his voice wavering. Eddie’s chest clenches.
“I know,” he whispers.
“I think— I think if my dad finds out, he’ll actually kill me, I—” He gasps, and Eddie leans in, his own eyes stinging.
“Hey, listen to me,” he says softly. “He won’t find out, okay? This is just between us.”
Steve sniffles, looking at him.
“You know how good I am at keeping secrets?” Eddie says, and Steve laughs wetly, reaching to wipe his face, but Eddie beats him to it. “No one else has to know,” he murmurs. “You’re safe here, Steve.”
Steve closes his eyes, and Eddie holds his face between his hands. They’re quiet for a moment, and Steve touches his wrists, running his hands down to squeeze his forearms like he’s grounding himself. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
“Why do I feel so…” He pauses, furrowing his brows again like he’s uncomfortable, like something is poking him. “Why do I feel so… dirty?” he whispers.
Eddie’s chest aches. He’s familiar with the feeling, the filth of existing.
“You’re not dirty,” he whispers back. “That’s how they want you to feel.”
Steve looks at him. Eddie pauses, swallowing, and his throat is tight now, because he’s never to explain this out loud, any of this. These thoughts that occurred to him late at night as he stared up at the ceiling in the dark, these thoughts that he wanted to whisper to the moon but was too scared to say out loud. He used to think saying it all out loud would make it real, but he knows now that it doesn’t matter how loud it all is. It’s real even when it’s just in his head. It was real before he was even born.
And he realizes at this moment, as he holds Steve’s face tenderly, as he feels Steve’s fingers press into his forearms and watches another tear slip over his fingers on Steve’s cheek, the feeling that he felt earlier today when Steve left him in the bathroom. The shift he felt under his skin like his cells were moving into place, like he has a whole new body.
Nothing is different, not really.
He just isn’t lonely anymore.
It’s like his body knows there’s someone else in this stupid fucking town that knows how he feels. Someone that matches him.
And he gets to say this out loud now. It’s not as scary when there’s someone to hear it. Someone to understand it.
“They make us out to be…” He pauses, licking his lips as he thinks. “These… filthy, perverted monsters. They talk about us and lie about us and make shit up about us being weird freaks, which, I mean, me personally, I guess it fits,” he says, his chest tightening when Steve half-smiles, scoffing. “But you, Steve Harrington,” he says, shaking Steve’s head lightly, making his smile widen, “are an upstanding citizen.”
“I buy drugs from you,” Steve says, leaning forward, and Eddie laughs lightly.
“You are not my most frequent customer.”
Steve snorts, shaking his head, but Eddie is still holding his face. He doesn’t let go.
“You are a good person, Steve Harrington,” he says quietly.
“You hardly know me,” Steve whispers.
Eddie looks at him. At his eyes. They’re hazel up close. Specked with green and brown and gold. He looks at the spots on his skin. Eddie wants to memorize them like constellations. There are tears caught in his eyelashes, and his nose and cheeks are rosy, and Eddie’s stomach flips over as he realizes just how beautiful he is. Not just hot, or attractive, but… Pretty. Lovely.
“You always smile at me when you pay me,” Eddie says softly, absently. “No one ever does that unless they’re high. But you smile every time.”
Steve blinks. Smiles. He has a beautiful smile.
“That makes me good?”
“That makes you better than the others,” Eddie whispers. “Makes you my favorite.”
Steve’s cheeks turn pink. Eddie smiles, brushing his thumbs over them.
“Tell me about you,” he says softly. “I wanna know you.”
Steve's smile falls. He’s quiet for a moment, running his hands over Eddie’s forearms before they fall to rest on his legs, and then his fingers play absently with the folds of his sweatpants.
“I’m lonely,” he says after a few moments, breathing the words quietly. “All the time. When I’m with my friends, when I’m at parties or at basketball practice or at games, I’m… I always feel like I’m hiding.” Eddie brushes his thumbs over his cheeks, listening. “I feel like I’m some… statue. Dressed as me, and— and pretending to be me, but no one really knows me.” He closes his eyes, turning his face into Eddie’s palm, leaning closer, pressing his hands over Eddie’s legs, and his voice shakes as he speaks again. “...I’m so lonely.”
“Me too,” Eddie whispers.
Steve sighs quietly, and he opens his eyes finally, looking at him.
“Can we be lonely together?”
“Yeah,” Eddie breathes. “I’d like that.”
Steve smiles, and then he closes his eyes, turning his face into Eddie’s palm again and sighing. Eddie gazes at him, and something settles in his chest. Something different than before.
— — — — —
“Have you ever kissed a boy?” Steve asks later as he passes the joint back to Eddie. They’re still on the floor, but they’ve moved to sit across from each other, Eddie with his back against the bed, Steve with his back against his dresser. Their empty beer bottles are on the ground with them, one of them knocked over, and the room is dim, lit up by the golden glow of the lamps next to Eddie’s bed. Steve bites into a red Twizzler as Eddie shakes his head, taking a hit.
“I’ve touched a few dicks,” he says, and Steve snorts, his eyes squinting as he giggles, chewing, holding the rest of the Twizzler in his hand. He’s so cute. “Sucked a grand total of two.”
“Was it nice?” Steve asks. Eddie shrugs, taking another drag.
“Was nice until they both insisted they’re not gay.”
“I’m assuming these were separate occasions,” Steve says, reaching for the joint.
“No, the three of us had a conference actually,” Eddie says sarcastically, and Steve rolls his eyes, taking a drag, and Eddie smiles, watching him. “Have you ever kissed a boy?” he asks.
Steve shakes his head, exhaling the smoke slowly.
“Kissed plenty of girls,” he says quietly. “But I assume they’re different.”
Eddie watches him take another drag, hesitating before he decides to just do it.
“Do you want to?”
Steve looks at him, his eyes flickering across his face as he exhales again, and then he nods. Eddie smiles, beckoning with a tilt of his head.
Steve puts the joint out in the ashtray that’s between them before he moves closer, sitting in front of Eddie, who sits up straight. Their knees touch when Steve crosses his legs, and they both pause, just looking at each other quietly.
“Okay?” Eddie whispers. Steve nods.
They pause again, and it’s awkward, and then they’re both giggling, quiet and muffled like they’re children at a sleepover, staying up past their bedtime.
And then they’re leaning in, and Eddie’s eyes flutter shut, and their smiling lips press together.
Steve is so soft.
All of him.
His hair, his face, his lips, his heart.
And he touches Eddie like he’s soft too, like he’s fragile. Steve touches his face, his fingers touching his cheeks before he’s holding them in his palms, tilting his head as his lips part. He tastes like artificial strawberries, and Eddie wants to kiss him until the taste fades.
Slowly, Eddie reaches out to him, finding his waist as Steve’s teeth catch his lower lip, and he pulls at him. Steve lifts onto his knees without pulling away, still kissing Eddie (kissing Eddie), and he holds Eddie’s jaw to tilt his head back, holding him in place. Eddie suppresses a shiver, his body tensing, when Steve’s tongue slips across his lower lip.
Steve pulls back, and Eddie tries to follow, exhaling as he lifts his chin. He opens his eyes blearily, looking up at him. His eyes are glassy, shining as he looks at Eddie, as he caresses his face, and a moment later, his lips spread into a slow smile. Eddie smiles weakly, hands holding Steve’s soft waist.
Steve leans back down and kisses him again, sliding a hand up into his hair to hold the back of his head, and Eddie exhales roughly, his hands tightening on Steve’s waist and pulling him closer. Steve pulls away to look down as he reaches down and pulls at Eddie’s leg so he straightens them out so Steve can crawl into his lap, straddling his hips. He’s heavy on Eddie’s legs, and Eddie lets out a soft groan, wrapping his arms around his waist as Steve kisses him again.
He lets Steve lick his mouth open, gathering the fabric of Steve’s shirt in his hands. He’s probably wrinkling it, but Steve doesn’t stop him. His breath is warm, and Eddie’s never felt so… peaceful. The room is nearly silent except for the soft, slick sounds of their lips and the breathy hums they can’t hold back, but Eddie doesn’t mind the quiet now. He pulls Steve closer, sliding a hand up his back and smiling when Steve shivers. And then Eddie shivers when Steve’s fingertips dance over his throat lightly. It tickles, but in a way that sends chills down his spine. Steve grins, biting Eddie’s lip again before he sucks on it gently.
Eddie hums, and Steve wraps his arms around his neck, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him, and his lips curve into a smile against Eddie’s when Eddie presses a hand into the small of his back. Eddie moves slowly, carefully, gently, shifting so he’s kneeling and opening his eyes just enough to glance past Steve at the dresser as he turns slowly. Steve’s legs wrap around his hips as he leans over, lowering Steve onto his back.
Steve hums softly, holding Eddie’s neck as their tongues slide, and when Eddie lifts his head, they’re both breathless, panting into each other’s mouths, smiling and smiling and smiling.
“Do you still feel dirty?” Eddie whispers quietly. Steve’s hair is splayed around his head on the ground like a halo, and his face is relaxed, blissful, beautiful.
“No,” Steve breathes.
“How do you feel?” Eddie murmurs against his lips before he kisses him slowly. Steve’s fingers run through his hair as he kisses his cheek, then his jaw, then his neck, just under his ear, his lips pressing slowly, lingering. He reaches down and slips his fingers under the hem of Steve’s shirt, pressing into his skin. It’s so soft. And warm.
“...Beautiful.”
Eddie smiles. He slides his hand farther under the shirt, lifting his head to watch Steve’s expression just in case, but Steve just smiles and tilts his head back, baring his throat. Eddie kisses it.
They undress. Slowly, softly. Steve’s shirt goes first because Eddie can’t keep his hands off him, pressing under the fabric to press into his skin, and then after it’s tossed aside, Steve is tugging at Eddie’s sweatshirt wordlessly. Eddie sits up, kneeling between Steve’s legs as he tugs it over his head, Steve watches, his eyes glassy and flicking back and forth between Eddie’s face and his torso. He sits up a little, propping himself up on his elbow as he reaches for Eddie’s chest, brushing his fingertips over his tattoos. The spider and the zombie, the letters inked over his ribs that he did himself, late at night in his room with headphones on and a needle between his fingers. The words no one has ever seen before. Not even Wayne.
The letters are faded, the ink spotty and uneven, and probably a little crooked, slanted, wobbly like a child’s handwriting, reading THE URGE TO followed by two words, one atop the other.
CREATE DESTROY
Steve touches them tenderly, and he pushes Eddie so he leans back as he tilts his head and leans close enough to kiss the letters softly. Eddie smiles.
Steve’s hands are warm as they run over Eddie’s stomach, over his waist and chest, and Eddie feels beautiful, too, now. He’s never felt beautiful before.
He runs his own hands over Steve’s chest as they kiss again, tilting his head to lick into his mouth, sighing as Steve reaches up to push his hair back again. And Steve lowers back onto the floor again, his hands gentle as they pull Eddie down with him, and Eddie thinks he would go anywhere if Steve was the one pulling him along. Through the depths of hell. Off the edge of the earth.
He holds himself up on his elbow next to Steve’s head, and he can push his fingers through Steve’s hair without moving, so he does. It’s soft, and smooth, and Eddie loves it. Steve’s legs wrap around Eddie’s hips again, pulling him against himself, and then they’re both gasping and giggling into each other’s mouths, because they’re both hard, and Eddie doesn’t know what to do. He presses down against him again, and a soft, desperate noise escapes Steve’s throat as his hand tightens in Eddie’s hair.
Steve reaches for the drawstring of Eddie’s sweatpants. Eddie reaches for the button of his jeans.
They’re both breathing hard as they shed their pants, their faces close like they can’t stand to be apart, and Eddie presses his face into Steve’s neck as they toss them aside, followed quickly by their underwear, and Steve’s fingers press into his hair, holding the back of his head and Eddie gently pushes him back to the floor. And his whole body is so warm, covered in soft hair and moles that Eddie wants to trace. He wants to connect them all, with his fingertips, or with his tongue. Steve’s skin is tanner than Eddie’s, especially in the quiet glow of the lamps, and when Eddie glances down at their bodies pressed together, they look like silver and gold, and Eddie decides that are beautiful. Separately, and together.
Eddie holds his hand up, and Steve takes it wordlessly, turning his face away from Eddie’s to slide his tongue across his palm slowly, and then his head falls to the ground again as Eddie reaches down. He sounds so pretty as Eddie touches him, letting out soft moans and curses, whispering Eddie’s name like it’s all he knows. He kisses Eddie. Again, and again, and again.
Steve wraps his arms around Eddie, and he buries his face in his neck, and he’s kissing him, kissing him, kissing him, and Eddie is groaning and whining and crying. There’s going to be a mark (or a few) left behind, he already knows, and he already can’t wait to see it in the mirror tomorrow morning. Steve lets out a choked noise when he comes, his back arching, and Eddie keeps crying.
— — — — —
Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, looking up at the ceiling, watching the smoke drift up and fade. Steve’s head is on his chest, and he sighs to blow the smoke out as they finish the joint they abandoned earlier.
Steve shifts to look up at him, lifting the joint to Eddie’s mouth for him, and Eddie smiles, parting his lips for it. Steve lets him take a long drag, and then he leans over him as he pulls the joint away, kissing his lips softly and opening his mouth for Eddie to blow the smoke out, into his lungs. Eddie opens his eyes when Steve pulls away, passing the joint to him as he exhales the smoke slowly.
Steve lays back down as Eddie smokes, his head resting on Eddie’s chest, hand raised to trace the spider that’s in front of his face, his fingertips light as he touches the legs of the spider, running down them slowly and carefully, like he’s worried about scaring it off. Eddie scratches at his scalp gently, combing his hair.
He can hear Steve’s heartbeat. Soft, and slow, and sleepy.
They got dressed after cleaning each other up quietly, pressing kisses to each other’s skin. Steve out on Eddie’s sweatshirt as Eddie was putting on his sweatpants, and Eddie just smiled, watching him shake his hair out of his face.
Their legs twist under the blankets, and Steve sighs again, sliding his hands over Eddie’s chest gently. Eddie knows without looking that his eyes are closed, and he shifts, tapping the joint out in the ashtray and then flicking off the lamp. The room goes dark except the sliver of moonlight coming through the small window across the room and the softly glowing end of the joint.
“I still feel beautiful,” Steve whispers as Eddie closes his eyes. Eddie moves down to wrap his arms around him, and he kisses his temple.
“Good.”
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h4rring1on · 2 years
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hello! could you do eddie forgetting readers birthday and he chose a dnd campaign over them? like maybe reader and eddie have planned it for weeks and was supposed to spend the whole day with eddie and reader buys a very pretty dress and when its finally readers birthday and shes at the cafe waiting for 4 hours she decides to go to eddies trailer and sees him in a middle of a campaign and eddie tells his friends to leave then after they have a very big argument and eddie leaves reader after cussing reader off driving away leaving her crying in the corner of his room staining her dress and she finally goes to her house and runs to her room crying more while eddie climbs up readers window trying to apologizes and reader just tells him to go away but lets him in anyways then they just start apologizing to eachother then just kiss (im sorry this is so long and kinda detailed HAHAHAHAHAHAH)
warnings: swearing, angst to fluff, thats it but please tell me if i missed something!
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you woke up with a smile on your face, it was finally your day. you and eddie had planned this day for weeks, it was gonna be about you.
you were gonna wear a pretty dress, eddie was gonna spend all his time with you, you two were gonna hung out at the cafe, it was all gonna be just about you.
it was your special day.
you slipped into your dress and admired yourself in the mirror, you looked so pretty. eddie has never seen you in this dress, this one was a surprise. and you we’re so excited to show him.
you got in your car headed to the cafe, you two went there all the time, so everyone knew you. when you got there, he wasn’t here yet, so you sat in your designated spot.
it was just yours and eddie’s, your special little spot.
you talked to one of the workers for a bit since you were basically friends with all of them, but they had to go back to work so you sat alone as you waited
soon, minutes started to feel like hours, and hours felt like an eternity. you looked at the time with a shocked look on your face, it had been 4 hours and he hasn’t come here
maybe he forg—
no! maybe he’s just busy—or sick! or somewhere really crowded even though they live in a small town. there had to be a rational reason.
you got in your car and headed to his place, ignoring the pitiful looks you got from the workers. you then heard some commotion coming from the trailer, and a smile reappeared on your face, of course! it was a surprise party!
you walked in and stopped in your place, the welcoming sight showed eddie and hellfire, playing their little game. no presents, no cake, no decor, nothing. just a normal day.
your smile was quickly replaced with anger, and everyone could see that, so eddie told them to go ahead and leave since this did not look like it was gonna end pretty.
“what’s wrong?” he asked
“what?” your heart broke, “eddie—you—how could you do this?”
“what did i do?”
“you seriously don’t remember?” you snapped, “it’s my birthday!”
his eyes widened at the realization, “oh my god i’m so sorr—“
“no! eddie! i have been making excuses for you for the past 5 hours, this was supposed to be my day! it was supposed to be about me! i was supposed to dress up all pretty, i got this dress just for you!” you pointed at your dress and he looked down to see it
“baby—“
“no! you—you forgot me! you forgot me and instead played your stupid fucking game without even remembering me! what if it was a normal day huh? you wouldn’t ask about me even then?”
“you do know birthdays aren’t all about you, right? people have other things to do then please you”
“please me?! you’re the one who planned everything! you planned everything and forgot it like an idiot!”
“maybe because i don’t care!” he yelled louder than you, making you go quiet
you two just stared at each other in silence, his entire expression changed as if he looked guilty, but he quickly ran off, leaving you alone in his trailer.
you ran to his room and curled up in a ball, a sobbing crying mess. did he really not care? a lot of people have said that before but why did it sting so much when he said it?
you had to cried to yourself for what felt like an hour, you got back to your senses and got in your car, heading home. once you got there you ran to your home and cried there too, why did it hurt so much?
words have never hurt you, but this really got to you. you suddenly flinched to the sound of knocking, you looked behind you to see eddie there, standing on the roof and in front of your window
“go away” you said, wiping away your tears
“cmon” he said but you ignored him and wiped off your makeup like he wasn’t there
“i’m gonna freeze out here!” he said, even though you were extremely mad at him, you still cared about him, so you rolled your eyes and opened the window, letting him in
he climbed in and fell on the floor, he got up and smiled at you, “hi”
but all you gave him was an unamused look, you were about to walk away until he gently gripped your wrist
“baby, please talk to me” he said, you sighed and just crossed your arms as you waited for him to speak up, “okay listen—i’m so sorry—i didn’t mean anything i said! i know i forgot and i know this was supposed to be your day and i did forget like an idiot” he sighed
he then held both of your hands, “please let me make it up to you—tomorrow! it’ll be all about you, i promise, i’ll make you feel special just like you truly deserve”
“oh really? thought you didn’t want to please you” you said
“yes—that, i’m so sorry about that—i care about you and your day, i was just—i knew i was in the wrong but i defended myself either way, please—let me make it up to you.” he said and looked down at your dress, “you never told me about this” he said
“it was supposed to be a surprise” you grumbled
“i never knew there was a way you could get prettier” he said as he trailed his hands down your dress
“if you’re trying to get me to forgive you it’s not working” you rolled your eyes
he gripped your thighs and held you up, making you scream in surprise, “how about now”
“you’re an idiot” you said, “but you’re my idiot”
he chuckled and pulled you in, the two of you shared a kiss for what felt like hours, once you let go the two of you leaned your foreheads on each other
“i’m so sorry, you know i love you, right?”
“i love you too, eds” you smiled
“well you better get to bed” he said as he placed you in bed and got in with you
“what? you’re sleeping here?”
“duh! that’s the first step of your day”
you let out a little giggle and kissed his cheek, even though you two had some problems. it would all work out in the end, because that’s how much you loved each other.
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justmeinadaze · 1 year
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Take It Out On Me (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)
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A/N: *melts into goo* I swear the vibes I get from this story and where I can go with it are a mix of Ariana Grande's "Dangerous Woman" and "I Didn't Change My Number" but Billie Eilish lol That lost song is actually where I got the title because I saw a TikTok where some did the Steddie AI followed by the lyrics "Take it out on you...and your best friend to."
So this is set in the 80s and I chose to make the reader plus size because I haven't done it before with these two and because we plus sized babes are sexy bitches ;). (All you souls, no matter your size are beautiful. Never forget that <3)
Warnings: Dominate Steddie and Sub Reader, she's not a virgin but she's definitely new to this. Everything in this story is consensual! Even though they are rough with her they do come up with a safe word and tell her she can stop if she wants (and they would! I would never write a version of these boys who wouldn't.)
There is degrading (mostly about how the reader wants to be used), spanking, choking... rough smut for sure but followed with aftercare.
Word Count: 3953
This wasn’t normal for you. You never got in trouble at school but today was just one of those days. Carol was picking on you again because of your appearance. Every day it was something different. Your hair looked flat, your clothes were hideous, or something you were reading at the lunch table made you “a dork”. 
Today, it was how fat your ass looked in your jeans. You slammed your locker shut as you turned to face her. “At least I have an ass, you ugly bitch!”
“Y/N Y/L/N!”, Ms. O’Donnell scolded. You hadn’t even noticed she was there. She sent you to the principal’s office where he gave you a week’s worth of detention after school. 
You were surprised when you entered the designated classroom to find it empty except for the teacher in charge. 
“Ah Miss Y/N, I presume. In for offensive language and bullying a fellow student. Come in and have a seat. I’m waiting on two more.” 
You flash him a soft smile as you slide into the desk in the front corner. The door opens again and fear dances through your eyes as Steve Harrington saunters in and throws himself down in a desk in the middle of the room. 
“Our very own basketball and swim star himself, Steven Harrington. Currently in detention today fooooor…”, the teacher looks at the papers in front of him. “Being caught in the girl’s bathroom. Huh. Did you get lost?”
Before he could respond, the final student entered loudly swinging the door open as he flew in. “Hey! Mr. C! How are we this fine afternoon?”
“Mr. Eddie Munson. Always a pleasure, sir. What are we in for today?”
“I may or may not have caused a disruption in the lunchroom today.”
“Mhmm. Well, since everyone is here, we can start. Detention begins at 5pm sharp and if you aren’t here on time, I do get to tell the principal who will do with you as he will.”
“Sounds sexy.”, the metalhead grins as he sits on top of a desk and crosses his legs. 
“Mr. Munson, I know you’ve heard this many, MANY times but for the new prisoners can you please…shut up.” The boy salutes him as the teacher continues. “The majority of the time, you guys will be here, SILENTLY, doing homework or reading, I really don’t care. Just be quiet. Depending on what is going on that day this week we may help out with things. The theater kids have a play on Friday and need help with the sets. As I’m sure Mr. Harrington knows, there’s also a game so the pep squad may need stuff set up.”
“Other than that, let’s just shut up and get through the week, okay?”
The first twenty minutes go by extremely slow as you try to focus on the homework in front of you. After a while, you felt someone watching, turning your head to see Steve staring at you. Something in those admittedly gorgeous brown irises sent a tingle through your body. It felt like he was trying to read you with the little information he had in front of him. 
You jumped as a loud beeping echoed through the room and a small devious smile spread across his face. 
“Shit.” The teacher pulled his beeper off his belt, furrowing his eyebrows anxiously. “That’s my wife. I’m going to make a quick call but if I come back and I catch you all talking or fucking around…” He points at the metalhead accusingly as he runs out the door. 
“Jesus Christ. I thought he would never leave.” Eddie sighed as he got up and slid into the desk in front of Steve reaching out to high five him. “Harrington. What are you in for?”
“Fucking Tammie told Ms. Luhrmann I was hiding in the girl’s bathroom.”
“You pervert.”
“It’s not what you think, ok! I left Nancy a note but she never showed up.”
“I told you, man. You need to stay away from those good girls. Speaking of…” Eddie swivels around on the desk to face you. “What are you in for, sweetheart?”
You curl a bit into your body, hoping they’ll just leave you alone. You don’t belong here. This isn’t normal for you. You just wanted to get through the week and never think about this again. 
Two hands, one of them covered in rings, come into your field of view in front of you as they press against your desk. “I asked you something, princess. Don’t be rude now.”
You closed your eyes at the deep tone of his voice. He sounds so sexy…
“She can definitely speak. Talked back to Carol today. It was amazing.”
That grabbed your attention as you turned to look at him. When you yelled at Carol, he wasn’t in the immediate group but he must have been nearby. They were his friends after all. 
“What did that bitch say?” Eddie asked Steve but his eyes never left you. 
“Said she had a fat ass.” The other boy rolls his eyes. 
“And what did you say?” He asks, speaking to you again. 
Your eyes found his before they left to scan you lips, down your curvy body, and back up to your face. 
“Boo!” Eddie shouted as he slammed his palms on the wood in front of you, making you jump again. He and Steve both chuckled as he sauntered away, back to his friend. 
“She commented on the fact that Carol lacks any kind of an ass and then followed that up with the word ‘bitch’.”
“Ooooh, you bad girl. You’re not wrong. That evil little person has nothing behind her. I prefer a girl who has some extra umph you know? Plus, their pussy always tastes the sweetest.”
You exhaled shakily at his words, having only heard or read them in stories. You definitely weren’t a virgin. You had been with men and had boyfriends but none of them ever spoke like Eddie had. They were always extremely shy type guys who had no idea what they were doing on top of you.
“Mr. Munson!” The teacher came back, sighing with his hands in the air. “Really?”
“Sorry, Mr. C. I had a question for the pretty girl but she doesn’t seem to be capable of speech.”
“I don’t blame her when it comes to you.”
################
The next day, you became more aware of Eddie and Steve’s presences. You didn’t realize you actually had a couple of classes with Steve and lunch with both he and Eddie. The metalhead’s eyes watched you walk past the Hellfire club table as you tried to ignore him and the other boy constantly turned to glace at you as he ate with his friends. 
At the end of the day, you filed into the detention room, surprised to find both boys already there and seated in the front row, much closer to you than they were yesterday. 
“Ok troublemakers, collect your things, we are headed to the theater room.”
“I believe thespians refer to it as an auditorium, sir.” Eddie replied in a comical voice that made you smile but only Steve caught it.
“Yeah whatever. I don’t care. Just paint and behave. I’ll be right back there watching so no funny business.”
“Can we talk, Warden or is that still a no-no?”
“Yes, Mr. Munson. You can speak as long as you paint.”
You descend to your knees and they both follow suit. Steve reaches over for the paintbrushes but as he leans over towards you, he lifts it out of your grasp and hands it to his friend. 
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want something? You gotta ask for it.”, he smiled over at you as he waited. “No? Ok then.”
“Please.”
They froze as he sat back to look you over. “Please what?” He laughs as your face scrunches in disgust. “I don’t know what you want unless you ask me for it.”
“Please, Steve…can I have a brush?”
He nods as he passes it to you and you immediately duck down again to focus on the task in front of you. 
“Your voice is pretty. You should talk more.” Eddie’s eyes remained on the board as he painted. 
“It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk. She just doesn’t want to talk to us.”
You don’t know why but hearing Steve say it like that made you feel bad. It wasn’t exactly that you didn’t WANT to. You just didn’t trust or know them. King Steve was close friends with the people that tortured you daily and Eddie was the resident bad boy your parents warned you to stay away from. They both intimated you greatly not just because of their air of dominance but because you wanted them to wield it on you. 
You wanted them to use you until you or they couldn’t take it anymore and that scared the hell out of you. You were so inexperienced when it came this stuff plus…how do you explain that to someone? Shouldn’t you want to be wined and dined? Yes, you did. You absolutely did but you wanted to be fucked senseless first.
“I do want to talk to you.”
“Then why don’t you?”, Eddie asked.
“You scare me.”
“Well, shit, sweetheart. I’m not a fucking devil worshipper like these asshole people think.”
“It’s not just you and that’s not why.”
“I’ve never made fun of you, Y/N.”
“Oh, hey. She has a name! Steve, you should have told me.”
“Yeah, you never made fun of me but you never stopped them either. You laughed along with them while they picked on me and degraded me in front of the entire school. You’re just as much an asshole as they are.”
“Y/N!”, the teacher hollers from his seat. “As much as I am enjoying watching you tear the king of Hawkins high a new one, I don’t see much painting happening.”
Blinking, you shut your mouth and begin moving the brush again. 
“If you ever talk to me like that again, I don’t care where we are or who is in the room, I will throw you over my knee and punish you. Do you understand me?” You turn to look him, finding his angry eyes penetrating yours. “I said, do you understand me?”
“Steve, come on.” Eddie rolls onto his back as he stares up you. “She doesn’t play like that. Do you? Probably still a virgin.”
“I’m not a virgin.”
“I see. Ok, not a virgin but definitely not a hardcore kind of girl, right? You like the missionary, vanilla, candles by the bed, listening to slow 70s tunes. Am I right?”
“You don’t know me. Jesus, no wonder you two are friends.”
“Oh wow, Eds. Look at her. No, she doesn’t like that at all. I mean, on some nights yeah, but you prefer being told to shut the fuck up and do as your told.”
“N-n-no. I don’t.”
Your answer makes them giggle. “I would not have pictured that. You like being used?”
“Edward Munson! I swear to God. If I have yell at you guys one more time, we are going back to the classroom to sit silently.”
As detention came to a close, the teacher asked if you wouldn’t mind staying a little later to put everything away. You agreed especially since he told the guys they could leave. You needed that space away from them. 
When Steve scolded you, you felt your panties dampen but you meant what you said. He never did anything to keep the popular kids from picking on you. You saw him laugh with them multiple times. Thinking about Eddie asking if you liked being used, had your pussy clenching around nothing as you rubbed your thighs together. You didn’t know enough about him to really form an opinion. The town talked about him a lot and his club he had at school but you two never crossed paths. 
You kept thinking about them as you collected your things and headed down the hallway to leave for the day. Suddenly, a hand covered your mouth as arms lifted you by your waist into a nearby open classroom. 
“Hey, sweetheart. Steve and I wanted us to finish our conversation. Now that that asshole isn’t here, we can!” Your eyes widen as you listen to Eddie speak. His tone light but there’s a strength behind it that frightens (and excites) you. “Now, where did we leave off? Ah, yes. You were just about to tell us if you liked being used.”
Steve lifted his palm from your lips, resting it gently against your throat.  “Please.”
“Nope. We already had that discussion. You have to say what you want to get it.” Eddie sighs as you push back against the man behind you and he quickly tightens his grip on your neck. “Sweetheart, give me a word. Any word you feel like you’ll remember in any…overwhelming situation.” His eyes seductively raked along your body. 
“Vanilla.” You aren’t sure why that’s the first word that came to mind but it was the only thing you could think of as Steve loosened his grip and your head fell back against him. 
“If there’s one thing you are not, baby, it’s vanilla but… that’s fine. If at ANY point during our little talk here you feel unsafe or you want to stop just say that word. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I understand.”
He steps forward, running his thumb along your bottom lip. “Good girl.”  His fingers trailed down to your shirt, grinning before he roughly ripped it open exposing your bra covered breasts. “Now…I’m only going to ask one more time. Do you…like…being used?”
“I-I-I don’t know. I want t-t-to be.”
His eyes widened in genuine surprise. 
“You said you’re not a virgin, right?”, Steve asked and you shook your head. 
“Aw, Harrington. What she’s telling us is she’s never been fucked properly. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, Eddie, that’s right.”
The metalhead rolls his eyes in frustration and takes a few steps back. Steve flips you around and slams your upper body down against the desk, reaching around to unbutton your pants as he pulls them below your ass. You hear the sound of a lighter being closed before the echo of his palm slapping your skin reverberates through the room. 
As a handcuff belt buckle places itself in front of you, the smell of smoke fills the air. 
“Sweetheart, this would go a lot smoother if you just listened and did as you were told.” He bent down on his heels so his face was level with your own. “Yes. What?”
“Yes, Eddie, I’ve never been fucked properly.”
“That’s better.”
Steve’s hand moves to hold your face flat to the wood and your arms reach to claw in front of you. You whine as he spanks you again. “Stop moving!”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m…” Your apology trails off as the tears start to fall down your cheeks. 
Eddie balances the cigarette between his fingers as he runs his thumb under your eye. The gesture was sweet in contrast and he noticed you begin to settle. His eyes flicked above you and a few moments pass before Steve slides his hand off your head to between your shoulder blades. 
“You said you were afraid of us. Why?”
When you don’t immediately answer he sighs and the other boy delivers two hard slaps to your bottom. Instead of pushing back or fighting underneath the weight of his palm holding you down, you laid still, accepting it. The only movements you made were with your face as you winced at the feeling.
“Why?”, he repeats. 
“Be-be-because of… how you m-m-make me feel.”, you whisper. 
“Did you hear that, Stevie?”, Eddie smirked up at him.
“Just barely but yeah. Y/N, I was there when you shouted at Carol, remember? I know you can speak louder than that.”
Your face scrunched at his words and the metalhead held his chest as he laughed.  “It kills you doesn’t it, princess? To both hate someone AND want them at the same time.”
Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted as Steve tugged on your shirt and adjusted you so you were facing him again. “You hate me, Y/N?”
When you took too long, his fingers pinched your cheeks roughly as he tilted forward till his nose was touching yours. “I asked you a question. You fucking answer! Do you hate me?!”
“Yes! You fucking asshole! I hate you!” You defiantly glared at him as you screamed at him. 
“His friends kind of suck. They don’t even know about me. Do they, Harrington?” Eddie snuffed out his cigarette, tossing the butt in the garbage. “I mean it’s fine. I don’t care. What I do find fascinating through is this electricity between you two even though you both hate each other.”
“I don’t hate her.” Your eyelids fluttered at his admission. Why did you torture you with his friends if it wasn’t because he didn’t like you? “If I hated her, I wouldn’t want to make her cum right now.”
Eddie pressed himself to your side as his lips hovered over your ear. “Has anyone ever made you cum before?”
You couldn’t tear your eyes from Steves and you didn’t even both trying. “No. No one has ever made cum.”
“Good girl. See? She’s learning. I knew you were smart.” Eddie’s palm slid along your shoulder, bringing your bra strap down your arm. His fingers, almost delicately, freed one of your breasts from its confine and you panted out a silent moan as the pad of his thumb grazed your nipple. 
“Do you want Steve here to make you cum?”
You couldn’t help it. Your hand wrapped around the back of the other boy’s neck as you brought his lips to yours. The first thing you noticed was how delicious he tasted. You felt like you could orgasm just from this alone. His hands remained still against your hips except for the little twitch of his fingers when your mouths connected. 
Your bliss was short lived as a hand abruptly clung to your neck and violently shoved your back flat to the desk. 
“Did I ask you if you wanted to fucking kiss him?!” You trembled as Eddie angrily shouted in your face. His gripped tightened against your neck for a brief moment before he let go and you turned to the side as you gasped for air. 
“Munson.” The metalhead glanced at Steve realizing quickly the man was gone. His eyes were black with lust and need, practically hyperventilating as his hands dug into your meaty hips. “Jesus fucking Christ. Fine. She said she wanted to be used. I guess we’re doing it this way since someone can’t fucking listen.”
Steve hastily unbuckled his belt, pushing down his pants just enough to free his cock before spitting in his hand and stroking it along his length. You gasped as he breached your entrance, giving you no time to adjust to the size of him as he stretched you open. He was much bigger than anyone you had every been with and you cried out as you reached out into the air, grazing your hand along Eddie’s shirt as you grabbed the fabric. 
“How does she feel, Harrington?”
The man’s grunts filled the room as he slammed his hips into yours. “So, fucking tight. My god.” He slowed his pace as he craned his neck to watch between your legs as his dick disappeared inside of you. 
As you continued to moan, you focused on Eddie as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his own cock, pumping it with his fist. “Open your mouth, princess.” You did as you were told as his fingers tangled in your hair, pushing you lips to length. “Good girl. Fuck me…” His teeth bit into his bottom lip as he slowly thrust hips. 
The feeling of you moaning around him causes him to wipe his head towards Steve, watching as the boy pressed rapid circles into your clit. With both of them inside of you, you were quickly hurtling toward that ledge. 
“Yes, pretty girl. Take it. Fuck…your mouth feels amazing.” 
Both boys thrust into at a fast pace, Steve slamming his hips into yours so hard the desk underneath you began to shake. You started to gag and gurgle around Eddie’s cock. 
“Wh-what, baby? You gonna cum? That’s right. Just let go and feel it.”
He pulled himself out from between your lips, continuing to pump himself as he watched you. Your body shook as your back arched and you came.
Steve murmured obscenities under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. 
“God damn. That was so fucking sexy.” The metalhead shoved his cock back into your mouth as they both chased their highs.  
Steve came first, pulling out of you just as he released ropes of his seed on to your stomach. Eddie soon followed, holding your head in his firm grip as he came down your throat.
You laid flat against the desk, staring up at the ceiling as you tried to catch your breath. As you heard them pull up their pants, you half expected them to leave you there having got what they wanted but were startled when you felt a napkin being run along your stomach. 
“Geez. Always so jumpy.” Eddie gripped your arm as he helped you sit up so he could adjust your bra and shirt. “Shit.” You followed his eyes realizing what he did; that when he tore open your shirt a lot of the buttons flew off with it. On impulse you covered your chest with your arms as you tried thinking of excuses to give your mom when you got home. 
While his face furrowed in thought, Steve lifted you off the desk and guided your pants up your legs before buttoning them back up. 
“I got it.”, the metalhead snapped his fingers as he tugged his shirt over his head. Gently, he removed your blouse, handing it the other boy before throwing his own over your head. He smiled in triumph at himself as he walked around you both towards the student desks and put on his leather jacket. 
“Do you drive here or…?”, Steve asked. 
“Yeah, my car is out front.”
“Good. Come on. We’ll walk with you.”
As they started to head for the door, you reached for Eddie’s arm, turning him around, and yanked him to your body as you leaned up to kiss him. It startled him at first but after moment he keened into it as his hands cupped your cheeks. He definitely tasted different than Steve but you still wanted more. You could kiss him all night if he let you. 
After pulling away, you pushed past them and headed for the parking lot, feeling their eyes watch you as they followed. When you guys got to the parking lot, you were thankful for the slight breeze as it cooled your still somewhat sweaty skin. 
There were only three cars remaining; yours, the BMW you assumed was Steve’s, and Eddie’s van. Steve reached across you, cutting you off as he opened the vehicle door for you. You paused for a moment before turning to look at them. You weren’t sure what you were expecting but the soft eyes that looked back at you were completely different than what you had experienced these last two days. 
You wanted to say something but weren’t sure what. Thankfully, they understood as Eddie stepped forward, placing his hand on your shoulder as he guided you into your car. 
“See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”
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@sidthedollface2 @luna-munson83 @devilinthepalemoonlite @corrodedcorpses
904 notes · View notes
matan4il · 1 year
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Buddie 613 meta
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We now know that the man who risked himself to get Buck out of the line of fire during the shooting arc is Jeshan, which means ‘clear’ (if you’re interested, you can find more name meanings for 911 characters here). So let me just giggle for a second about the fact that 911 had once again reunited Buddie with a character who can be referred to as Captain Clear Me(h)ta. Coincidence? IDK. But I have to admit, it kinda made me reflect back and feel nostalgic. When I first started watching the show, I had no intention of writing meta for 911, but after going ballistic when 309 aired, I knew I would HAVE to use the s3 hiatus to write down all my thoughts about everything Buddie related so far. That’s what I did, I wrote and shared my baby, my first round of Buddie meta. That’s where it was supposed to end, but then people asked and encouraged me to write meta for the eps in 3b as they would air, too. I figured I could try, and that’s how my Buddie weekly meta posts were born. At the time, there was no one else writing proper weekly meta (I don’t mean a summary/review of the ep, or meta posts that stand on their own, but proper analysis on Buck, Eddie and those who matter to them, organized and serialized for each ep as it aired). And now, I’ve been writing them for almost 3.5 seasons. And I feel like they’ve inspired others to do the same. TBH, I can’t actually remember seeing weekly meta posts in other fandoms (maybe they exist and I just haven’t come across them, IDK). So I got all emotional, thinking about how these posts may be love notes to Buddie and the show, but most of all they’re a love letter to the wonderful people who have been supportive and encouraging, who’ve been reblogging the posts, who’ve been commenting on them and telling me that what I do makes a difference for them. Thank you so much, these posts wouldn’t exist without you. You have a much bigger impact on the fandom than you might have realized! So if Captain Mehta is indeed a nod to the meta, it’s a loving, appreciative nod that belongs to all of you. ~~
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When Chim shows up to escort Hen to work, he ends up sitting down for a talk with Denny instead, and I really enjoyed this scene, it was lovely, but it also once again emphasized the difference between the firefam kids’ relationship with their parents’ colleagues and the r/s Buck and Chris have. Chim talks to Hen’s son when he happens to come across the kid, but he only sits down for a proper conversation because Denny implies Hen and Karen are up to something intimate, and Chim shouldn’t interrupt them just yet. Consider how different that is to how Buck intentionally looks to spend time with and dedicated to Chris! And then Chim is impressed by how smart Denny is. It’s cute, but it also reveals just how little they interact that this comes as a surprise to Chim. It’s so different to the intimate familiarity of a parent, which is what we know Buck has with Chris (and that Chris has with Buck, which can even be seen in the kid’s teasing, for example regarding the snoring in 414). ~~
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You might have seen that, when the promo came out, I momentarily lost my sanity and posted this. I just couldn’t get over the fact that they actually had Eddie correct the chief on the duration of Buck’s death. It was such a spouse thing to do. It was a declaration about the anguish that each single second represented, when Eddie couldn’t breathe because Buck wasn’t. It was a confession of sorts, on how Eddie felt as he desperately NEEDED his husband to live (I’m not even joking when I ascribe him this title, Eddie said with his whole chest, “THAT IS MY IDIOT HUSBAND THAT I HAD TO WATCH DIE FOR THREE MINUTES AND SEVENTEEN SECONDS AND I WILL NEVER FORGET ANY OF THOSE SECONDS, NOR LET ANYONE ELSE DO THAT”). It was a glimpse into how time must have moved differently for him as each second etched itself forever into Eddie’s mind. And yes, it’s a clear parallel to 413, when we witness time slowing down for Eddie. And I mentioned in my post that in both scenarios, Buck is just out of his reach, so close, but simply not close enough. In one case, this forced Eddie to believe he must now accept his own death. In the other, he couldn’t accept the possibility that Buck would die, so he just fought harder, and if he couldn’t save Buck with one course of action, he tried another, Eddie just had to keep going, 'coz the idea of those three minutes and seventeen seconds turning into an eternity? Unacceptable. ~~
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But notice in my unhinged post from that day, I used the word ‘counting.’ Eddie counted the seconds, and this is revealed to us at a poker game where Buck is counting the cards. I already noticed that when we saw the promo, but this connection was reinforced in the ep itself when Chief Williams vocalized what Buck was doing. The thing about counting is that it’s reserved for what matters, what’s crucial. Buck is counting the cards in order to win, and he wants to win because it matters to Eddie. Buck wasn’t the one who initiated the search for a poker game where he could use his newfound skills, Eddie was the one to take that initiative. And he could bring Buck along without telling him where they’re going (I would normally scream for a whole separate paragraph just about Eddie telling Buck to dress nice and there being no need for any further explanation or prompting, but we were so well fed, I’ll have to scream about it into my fist for just one sentence) 'coz Eddie was so sure his husband would go along with whatever crazy scheme he’d come up with. And he was right, even though Buck didn’t think it would end well, he still went along with what his husband wanted. Please let me reiterate: Buck’s counting cards because Eddie is so important to him, and Eddie was counting the seconds because Buck’s his vital sign. ~~
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Another thing to keep in mind about the poker game is that the only other time we’ve seen Buck playing poker was in 312. In that ep, Eddie was off to meet Christopher’s school teachers (leading to his eventual lackluster r/s with Ana), so having a free evening, Buck spends it with Maddie, Chim and Josh (and is told he unequivocally sucks at Poker). Jokes were made about setting Josh and Buck up, and it was implied whatever Buck’s sexuality was, that was not the reason why Maddie abstained from making the match. What I find interesting is seeing how far our boys have come! In that ep, they were operating separately, and it led them down the wrong paths.
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In this ep, Buck and Eddie were inseparable both as a couple (even sharing the winnings from Buck’s new talent, because what don’t these two share? And I was particularly chewing glass when Chief Williams asks Buck how he wanted HIS winnings, but instead of answering her, he looks at his husband. THEY ARE SO FREAKING MARRIED), and as a family unit with Chris (which is maybe a good moment to point out that all of the romantic couples were paired off in 613, and so were Buddie! Now, one could argue that Buck and Eddie were paired off because, well... who else is left for them to hang out with? But 312 is a reminder that when the show wants to, it can push the main cast and minor characters into the same orbit, so it still didn’t HAVE to pair Buck and Eddie off here. It chose to. On top of that, by showing them with Chris as well, 911 reminded us they’re far more bonded than just two best bros hanging out together ‘coz none of their other friends are single). In short, during 312, Buck lost and Eddie was about to be lost on a detour in his romantic journey. In 613, they ARE a family, they work as one throughout the ep, not just in parts of it, and they’re both winning. ~~
Something that gets to me is that when I first shared the BTS pic of Buddie at the poker game, it was clear that Eddie was just bursting with self confidence. He looked like he would be the star of that game. But when we got the promo, we discovered that it was actually going to be Buck who would shine that night. So what makes me slightly froth at the mouth is that all of that sexy confidence we picked up on in the photo? It was real. We weren’t wrong. It just wasn’t confidence that Eddie had in himself, it’s confidence he has in Buck. All of his swagger? Is a reflection of how much he believes and enjoys seeing his husband be a star. I am gonna need 3-6 working weeks at least to recover from knowing this. ~~
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Speaking of things that destroyed me forever, everything about the Buckley-Diaz family in this ep falls into that category. I mean, not only did we once again have incredibly domestic scenes, we had one that was very reminiscent of the lasagna one in 601 (Eddie with Chris at the table, Buck fussing around them only to join in once he brings along something to be consumed), reinforcing that this is THEIR NORM, we also had Eddie and Chris being so cute and supportive when it comes to Buck’s new ability (Chris calls him a superhero, Eddie goes along with it, and when Buck’s upset he didn’t get a better superpower, naming some he would have liked to have, Eddie comforts him by saying those other options sound horrible). 
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And then to top it all off, we had Buck and Chris cooking together. Bobby’s been explicitly acknowledged as basically being Buck’s dad by both of them, and we know Bobby’s been teaching Buck how to cook. Now we get Buck doing the same with Chris, clearly marking them as father and son, especially since this is done with just the two of them, this special time that’s allocated just to their bond together. Eddie is not needed as a middleman. I know that this isn’t news, but every single time the show reinforces this truth, that Buck is Christopher’s other dad, that their bond is that deep, I gain 10 years, so I have to mention it. ~~
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For 613, I made my weekly gifset about Buck and answers, but I’d actually like to elaborate on what you see there. In 602, at the happiness center call, we see Buck looking to Lev in search for his own answers on what his happiness looks like. When he still can’t find any, he turns to Hen, because she always has them. Along this season, that’s been his theme. He’s trying to figure out what he wants in order to be happy, which is connected to the couch theme we’ve all been screaming about since 601 (and especially after he fell asleep on Eddie’s in 612). In 613, Buck suddenly finds that he’s the guy with the answers and he likes it. But has he really got them? Buck says these words to Eddie and Chris, and in addition to that, while he utters them, he’s literally captured in the same frame together with Eddie. But it’s also essential that we heard why Chris can’t just be given the answers. It’s in order to learn, Eddie tells him. That’s exactly what Buck has to do, he has to find his answers in order to learn from the search process. He’s not just there yet, but the framing of the whole scene coupled with the ongoing couch theme is very loud. ~~
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What gets me maybe most of all in a whole ep of REALLY GOOD BUDDIE CONTENT, is the way the whole thing wraps up. The storyline on Buck’s new abilities doesn’t end with any commentary on those or on his recovery process. His last scene in this ep is the one with Chris. It follows directly the one with Hen and Karen, a scene which reminds us that we’re never surprised at either woman spending solo time with and caring about Denny, even though neither is biologically related to him, because they ARE BOTH his parents. In the same way, it’s only natural that we see Buck spending alone time with Chris, without Eddie around. It is so meaningful that the last shot of Buck in this ep is not about his story line at all, and neither his abilities, nor having died for several minutes is the point. Instead, the last, and therefore most significant shot of Buck in this very Buddie domestic ep, is him smiling at their son. I feel like that says everything about his trajectory.
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strawberryspence · 11 months
Text
ceilings, plaster, can’t you just make it move faster?
Steddie Week / Day 2: Fluff and Angst ( @steddie-week )
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There’s beeping on his side as Steve slowly gains consciousness. He can hear birds chirping, and the trees dancing against the wind. Which was weird, because he remembers closing the window last night.
“Pst! Steve!”
Steve’s eyes shot open, jumping out the bed to reach for his spiked bat when he sees Eddie’s head wedged between his bedroom windows. He looks like a damn burglar.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Steve drops his bat, rushing to open the windows wider, “Eddie? What the hell are you doing?!”
Eddie jumps clumsily inside the bedroom, “Like a ninja!” Steve bites down laughter. If he looked as dorky as this man, he doesn’t even know why Nancy dated him.
“Why are you here?”
Eddie pokes his ribs, “Are you really asking me that?”
Steve swats his hand away, “Yes. It’s a perfectly normal question to ask when you’ve just been woken up by a man who climbed your roof.”
“Sweetheart,” Eddie sings, “We have a date.”
Steve gapes at him, “What? Was that today?”
“Yes.” Eddie laughs. There’s no hint of anger or remorse in his voice, “Go on, get ready for the day. I’ll make you some brunch.”
Rushing to get ready, Steve showers and dresses up in his favorite Levis and polo. His hair also doesn’t take him more than 5 minutes to sculpt. It’s like he’s having the luckiest damn day ever. When he finally walks out of his room, the smell of waffles and coffee spreads through his senses.
Steve sits on the counter, “I am sorry for forgetting about our date, Eds. It completely slipped my mind.”
Eddie laughs, pushing a plate of waffles in front of him, “No worries, sweetheart. You’re still healing, you deserve all the rest.”
There’s a pause as Steve squints at him.
“Healing? Healing from what?”
Eddie shakes his head, “None of that now. Eat so we can go to the carnival.”
“Carnival?” Steve perks up at the mention of a carnival, “There’s a carnival in town?”
Eddie nods, his mouth stuffed with a forkful of waffle. Steve’s always wanted to have a carnival date, but the last time the carnival was in town, Steve was too busy trying to stay alive in an underground Russian bunker.
“Yep! So get some food in you and we’ll go. We’re burning daylight here.” Eddie urges him to eat.
Steve laughs, “Slow down. The carnival won’t leave.”
Steve takes the first bite of his waffle and literally moans on the spot. The waffle melts on his mouth, a combination of sweet and soft sensations bursting.
“Oh my god.” He moans, stuffing himself another bite, “Did you freaking make this?!”
Eddie smirks, “Yes.”
“Why the hell is it so good?”
“It’s my mom’s recipe. I only pull it out for the pretty boys.”
Steve chokes on a bite, his cheeks flushing, “So I am just another pretty boy now, huh?” Eddie cackles at his reaction, pushing a glass of water his way.
There’s a twinkle of warmth in his eyes, and a smile so soft Steve knows for sure it’s only for him, “The prettiest boy.”
-
The carnival was— perfect. It had everything Steve has ever wanted to try. In a sense, it’s like everything was catered for his pleasure.
Steve looks around in wonderment, as people walk and move past them, “Dude, we should’ve bought the kids!”
There’s a sharp pain in his chest as he remembers the kids, but it's gone as quick as it came. Steve clutches his chest, chasing the pain.
Eddie looks at him, hands immediately wrapping around him in concern, “Stevie? Are you okay?”
“No. I— I just—“ He tries to straighten up and he feels… nothing, “Nothing. I think my heart skipped a beat or something.”
Eddie smirks at him, but his eyes soft with worry, “Sweetheart, I haven’t even held your hand.”
Steve feels his face heat up, “Oh, shut up.”
“Well. Which one do you want to do first? Ride some rides? Play some games?” Eddie pulls him by the hand, intertwining their hands together as they walk around the park, “You know what, I’ll win you one of those bears from one of the games!”
They spend the next few hours just playing and riding rides. They tried numerous carnival foods that Steve was never allowed to try as a kid. It's the first time Steve has actually gone to a carnival and had fun. Eddie’s loud and crass and wonderful in so many ways. He has tricks for game after game, and even if he’s scared on some rides, he still rides for Steve.
It’s the perfect date.
“Eds, you can stop trying. You’re wasting your money.” Steve whispers as Eddie hands more money to the carnival personnel.
“I am going to get you that damn bat toy and I won’t stop until my wallet is empty.” Eddie winks at him, as he squats and stares at the barrel of the water gun.
Eddie concentrates intensely as he tries to get the water to shoot on the hole. The personnel look bored as he watches them, but Steve only has eyes for Eddie. There’s pure determination on his face, squinting hard so he can finally win the damn bat toy. Steve shouldn’t have should interest on it to begin with.
The lights above it start lighting up one by one, Eddie just has to reach the top and he can finally get the stuffed toy. Steve doesn’t even realize that they won because he was only staring at Eddie.
“Jesus Christ! Finally!” Eddie grabs the bat toy from the personnel, hopping up and down with joy. His lips stretched into a huge smile, and his eyes bright with excitement.
Steve wishes he could stay in this moment forever. In this light and sparkling moment with this person that he could love— this person he might already love.
“One bat stuffed toy for your majesty.” Eddie kneels one knee, and presents the stuffed toy like it’s a bar of gold. Steve plays along, nodding ceremoniously, before taking the bat into his hand.
It’s not a bar of gold, not a crown, not a diamond. But it’s Steve’s most prized possession.
A personnel walks past them, shouting in a megaphone, “One more hour till closing!”
“The carnival’s closing?” Steve asks as Eddie straightens up.
“Apparently. You want to do one last ride?”
Steve shrugs, “Sure. I think I have…” He pauses, tries to think of what he had planned for tomorrow. Weirdly enough, he can’t think of anything.
Eddie pulls him along, “There’s one more ride I want to visit before the sun sets.”
As they walk past the stalls, the lights start flickering open. Bright, colorful lights start surrounding them. It’s not dark enough yet, but Steve knows it’ll be beautiful in the dark.
“Here!” They enter the line for the ferris wheel, which was surprisingly empty, “Come on!"
The personnel lets them in on one of the carts, smiling respectfully as he locks it, “See you on the other side.”
The wheel starts moving, slowly but surely and soon enough, they’re on the top. From where Steve is sitting he watches as people walk around the carnival like tiny little ants. The sky starts changing its colors. The bright blue, turning into a softer orange and pink.
“It’s beautiful.” Steve whispers, breathless as he sees the entirety of his hometown.
Eddie chuckles quietly beside him, reaching for his hand and taking into his, “It is.” Steve turns to him and catches his eyes on him.
The ride stops as they arrive at the top. The cart moves ever so slightly, and it feels like someone lulling him to sleep. Steve lets his head fall on Eddie’s shoulder as he watches the scene in front of him.
“Did you have fun today?” Eddie asks, his thumb softly caressing Steve’s hand.
“Yeah.” Steve sighs in content, “I think I’m going to bring Robin here tomorrow.”
A sharp pain stabs him again, the same one he felt earlier. Steve jolts up, as he clutches at his chest again, massaging it slowly, “What the hell is that?”
“I think it’s time, Steve.” Eddie says, there’s a hint of sadness in his voice.
Steve turns to him, confused, “Time for what?”
Eddie moves closer, cupping his jaw into his hand, “Time for you to wake up.”
“I am awake.” Steve pulls away, narrowing his eyes.
He shakes his head, “No, sweetheart. You have to wake up.”
The beeping is back, and Steve swings his head around to see where the sound is coming from. He gasps as he looks down at the ground, all of the people are gone now. It’s just— It’s just him and Eddie, on top of the ferris wheel.
“What’s happening?” Steve demands.
Eddie tilts his head, “You don’t remember?”
Steve shakes his head, as Eddie takes his hand again, “Here. Close your eyes.”
He gulps, but obeys. The beeping subsides.
Eddie starts talking, “We went back to the Upside Down, to finish what we started and then—“
Lights start flashing in his eyes, like thunder striking in the dark. Vines strewn everywhere in the ground.
Steve remembers screaming, lots of screaming. He remembers running in front of Robin. He remembers using all his strength, he remembers killing a monster, he remembers using his body as a shield. He remembers— he remembers pain. All around his body, like sharp pain, heightened a thousand times over. He remembers hearing sobbing and Robin begging him to stay.
He tried.
Steve gasps awake. “Robin? Is Robs okay?”
Eddie grins at him fondly, “Yes, sweetheart. Robin is alright.”
Steve looks down at his hands, “Am… I dead?” His eyes widened in realization, “Eddie? Are you dead?”
“I am not sure, sweetheart.” Eddie shrugs, “I don’t remember a lot either. I just woke up here and then— I remembered that before we went to fight Vecna, you…” Eddie laughs, his cheeks flushing, “You asked me on a date. To go to a carnival. So here I am.”
The beeping is back, and it’s louder than ever. There’s a gust of wind that brings a soft whisper, “Dingus. Please.”
“Robin’s calling me.” Steve whispers.
“I know.” Eddie says back, “You have to go back.”
“We have to go back. Together.”.
Eddie smiles at him, but it’s small and painful and Steve hates it. “I can’t hear any beeping, Stevie.”
His lips quiver, Steve starts shaking his head, “No. No. We have to go together or I am not leaving.”
Eddie holds onto him tighter, “No. You have to go back. You have to wake up.”
“Will you be there?”
Eddie blinks, pursing his lips in contemplation, “I am not sure.”
Steve clenches his jaw, swallowing the lump forming on his throat, “Are you real? Was any of this real?”
Steve looks around. The carnival is now gone. It’s just him, and Eddie and the ferris wheel. The sky is still there, watching over them in a combination of beautiful orange and pink hues. The sun is still setting, vividly and slowly. The end slowly sinking into the horizon.
Eddie giggles, “Of course, I am real, sweetheart. Everything was real.”
“Then I want to stay.”
“No, baby. You have to go back. Listen to the wind.” Eddie pulls him closer, leaning his forehead into his.
Steve lets his eyes flutter shut as the wind shakes the cart, tiny little voices being brought by the wind, tiny little pleads from Robin, Dustin, Max, Erica— from everyone. Everyone pleading and begging for him to wake up and come back.
“Can you hear it now?” Eddie asks.
Steve nods against him, as Eddie continues, “Everyone needs you. You have to go back.”
“I promise to find you. When I wake up, I will find you.” Steve promises, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to live in a world without Eddie Munson in it.
Eddie nods, there’s a look in his eyes that doesn’t fully believe it, but he says, “I’ll be waiting for you, sweetheart.”
Eddie leans over, his lips soft against Steve’s. Steve tries to map it out, tries to memorize it as best as he can. Eddie’s lips are chapped and rough, but it’s the softest and most gentle kiss Steve has ever had. He reaches over to wipe the tears streaming down Steve’s cheeks.
The beeping gets louder, insistent and— There’s a sharp pain in his chest and it feels like getting struck by lightning.
Eddie pulls away, “Wake up, sweetheart.”
There’s heaviness in his chest and then— Steve gasps, opening his eyes. It feels exactly like being drowned, and being able to finally breathe again.
“Oh my god! Steve!” He hears a voice sob. It’s a voice he would recognize anywhere.
The heaviness lifts away, and silhouettes surround him. Steve holds out his hand, and someone takes it.
“Dingus.” Robin sobs, “I thought I lost you.”
Steve can feel tears running down his cheeks. He looks around, his eyes getting used to the light. He blinks at everyone, roaming his eyes on each one of them.
He turns back to Robin and behind her is a big window. The sky is streaks of orange, the sun obviously setting. It looks exactly the same as the sky from his dreams. It was real.
Steve opens his mouth, his tongue feels heavy and sharp, but he wills himself.
“Eddie.”
(The beeping starts slowly, barely even there. The cart lulls against the wind and caresses his cheeks, with it a silent whisper of his name.
He smiles and waits.)
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