you must have known for a long time (the shape of things to come) (31988 words) by brakers91
Chapters: 13/13
Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), firetower au, excon!Eddie, Light Angst, Fluff, Humor, Fluff and Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, 90s AU, Aged-Up Character(s), Falling In Love, Flirting, falling in love over radio, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, grief as a character, Tender Sex, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Emotional Sex, Referenced Minor Character Death, Isolation, Masturbation, Masturbation Fantasy, Service Top Steve Harrington, Bottom Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Character Study, Frottage, they're switches, Mutual Pining, it’s about yearning, and also grief, and also banging
Summary:
“Tower two?” Steve’s uncertain voice crackled through the radio. “You there, man?”
Eddie held down the button, opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again and released the button. He did it two more times. Shit! Steve would surely recognize his name. That was the last thing he needed.
He made a split-second decision and pressed the button to talk. “Yea, yea, I’m here. Sorry. Uh, bee got in. I was trying to get it out the window. I’m, um- Eddie Makowski.” His intonation raised at the last syllable like he was asking a question. He cringed. Hoped Steve didn’t notice it.
There was a long silence. Then, “Makowski, huh? Ok. Um, nice to meet you then, Eddie Makowski.”
or: Eddie gets a summer job, not knowing Steve will be his only coworker. They fall in love over the radio waves.
Bad Apple | Ex-Con!Eddie Munson X (Journalist)Fem!Reader |
Summary: Eddie cuts a deal with his parole officer in order to get out early. As things start to become normal Eddie realizes just how free he isn't until he meets you.
Warnings: mentions of illegal drug use, drugs, alcohol, cursing, language, crime, petty theft, abuse of illegal substances, and of course 18+
It had been a grueling day filled with paperwork and being tasked with guarding a particularly rough parolee named Eddie Munson. Steve had arrived home at 4:30 a bit later than intended. Pulling his vehicle into the drive-way. Hopefully, just in time to catch his wife for a few hours of small talk and dinner. She usually left for her weekend work trips at seven, so he was glad there was a bit of time to spend.
He fishes the house keys from his back pocket, admiring the way each key dangles from the handcrafted chain. Courtesy of his daughter, the purple, blue, black, and pink beads that adorned the small string hand picked by her tiny fingers. The other beads strung on the string contained a letter -- D.A.D.D.Y.
Steve’s lips curl into a thin smile going to unlock his front door. The click of the lock alone is enough to signal he's home. How the door creaks as he pushes it open is an even better indicator. The soft padding of tiny feet gives him enough time to prepare. Hanna’s pretty hazel eyes gaze up at her father as she runs for him. Wanting nothing more than to be enveloped and scooped up into his arms. She was the brightest little star so full of joy. One of the reasons he had the job that he did, was in vowing to protect his wife and daughter. That was all the motivation he needed.
Hanna giggles as she finds comfort in her father’s arms, a shrill squeal leaving her as his fingers dig into her sides tickling her. “Da-a-addy! S-Stop it, that tickles!” Her nose scrunched up as another fit of laughter escapes her. Hanna’s legs are wrapped around his torso, squirming in Steve’s arms as his fingers torment her. “Okay, okay, pumpkin. M’Sorry.” He coos craning his neck down to peck her cheek and she smiles toothily, revealing not one, but two front teeth missing. “Woah! Look at that!” Steve is so distracted with his daughter that he hadn’t noticed Lizzie approached. Everyday he fell more and more in love with her.
Elizabeth stands on her toes to peck Steve on the cheek. Hanna juts her tongue out in disapproval. Steve smiles and nuzzles her cheek. “She lost another tooth, babe?” Steve inquires once she steps closer, hands brushing over his shoulders, running her hands idly along the pads of his vest.
“Mhmm.” She hums, her temple coming to rest against his bicep. “Spent the whole day trying to get it out.” Elizabeth muses and he chuckles. Hanna curls herself against Steve’s chest and rests her head on his chest.
“And now I get to see the Tooth Fairy!” Hanna chirps, throwing her arms around his neck and Steve humms in delight. “Wanna see my tooth, Daddy?” She asked with a proud grin and he nodded. He wanted nothing more than to see something his little girl was proud of. Steve bends down returning his child to the safety of the floor watching as she takes off down the hall to grab her tooth.
Steve chuckles, “Enthusiastic, she gets that from you.” He complimented, hands running down Lizzie’s sides until they rest on her hips, fully turning to face her. She takes in his uniform and runs her palms up over the vest, "Baby, you're givin' me that look."
“Yeah?” Lizzie replies with a bit of sarcasm, lacing her arms around Steve’s neck. She lovingly stares up into his eyes and he drags her closer. Immediately crashing his lips down in hers. God, he missed Elizabeth. Every second of every day he missed her. Craved her. Wanted her. Steve qas crazy for the woman. Lizzie's fingers play with the hairs at the base of his neck as he kissed her, before pulling away to gaze into her eyes. "Hard day, Stevie?"
He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. "God, you have no idea." Just then little Hanna comes running back with her tooth, tucked safely inside a plastic baggy, waving it in the air.
"Well let's have a look huh?" Lizzie admires Steve as he crouches down to interact with their daughter. She wouldn't have it any other way, her heart swells with joy everytime Steve comes home. Showing the both of them love. Things were perfect.
"Rules?" Eddie huffs angrily, "What am I five?" He stares up at the dingy ceiling of his bedroom. The ceiling fan creaking as it circles the air around his room slowly. Missing the dusty corners of Eddie's bedroom. He wasn't quite a fan of being bossed around in his own home, it wasn't something that sat well with him. Having moved out of the trailer home he shared with his Uncle Wayne two years ago, had changed him. It was his house and he was stuck following rules again. "Shit.." Eddie sighed.
He sits up moving to clib off the bed as he swings his legs over the side but stops. Eddie looks down at the monitor strapper securely to his ankle and sighed. "Fucking, Hell. I'll feel like a kid." Everything had gone downhill for him. He pulled the lighter from his pocket, then made his way out of the room and towards his front porch.
When he breached the outside Eddie felt a twinge of relief. After being locked in a cell for ten hours, interrogated for another two, and forced into some sort of shitty parole agreement he was glad to have a break. He clicks the lighter holding it up the cigarette tucked st the corner of his pursed lips. A huge wave of relief washes over him over him as he inhales the smoke, allowing the nicotine to numb his feelings, usually felt the best after a quick smoke.
He reaches for the butt and lodges it between his index and middle fingers, taking another hit, before blowing the smoke out into the open air around him. Eddie sighs, completely off-edge and thoroughly relaxed leaning back against the columns of which supported the roof of his front porch.
"Oh, hello!" A sweet voice calls out to him.. soft like silk and thick like honey. Eddie looks up from his cigarette at the sound of the voice. He turns his head in every which way until he spots her. To his right a beautiful woman stood, clad in a soft yellow sundress and flip-flops. Your hair pulled back into a messy bun and Eddie chuckled.
He waves his hand, not wanting to appear rude, before taking another puff. Eddie swaggers over towardd the gate a certain pep to his step. Flicking the cigarette aside into the grass, stomping out the butt with the tip of his sneaker. Then he approched her side of the fence. Arms reaching out and folding over the top of the metal bars.
"Hey, you uh- You uh moving in?" Eddie scratches his chin as he eyes the boxes stacked by your door. He points a finger towards her the haphazardly stacked items.
You crinkle your nose and let out a sigh, "Yeah, just moved in a week ago. Those are some old boxes. Storage mostly." Waving a hand to dismiss them. Eddie let's out a chuckle pressing his weight onto the gate as he admires you.
The way the yellow sundress hugged your hips, but covered your legs modestly, shoulders covered by a thin white cardigan. Eddie couldn't help but stare. "I'm Belle by the way. You?"
He chuckles, "Munson. Eddie Munson." When he introduces himself he watches as your face scrunched up as if thinking. Eddie could see the cogs turning in your brain.
"Mm, nope. Don't think I've heard of you. Did you go to Hawkings High School?" You ask looking up at him.
"Yeah, I did. Graduating class of '86, baby." He replies wistfully. God, he missed Hugh school. Not the parts about being terrorized, but the club, his band, friends and now all of that gone. All because he wanted to make a quick buck. You could tell by the timbre of his voice that he seemed troubled.
He certainly was cute though. Brown eyes, soft and rounded, followed by perfect dimples. Long untameable dark curls and his hands. God, where to start? "So. What do you for a living?" You ask trying to distract yourself with something other than him. Eddie wasn't the type of guy anyone could take home to their parents, especially not your own.
Eddie chuckles chest abd shoulders shaking with his actions. He smirks, "I don't know, sweetheart. If I told you I'd have to kill you."
You step closers, faces now inches away from another. "Oh yeah? You a bad boy, Eddie?"
"Oh, sweetheart you have no idea." He dismisses the question, opting to tease you further. "I'm not exactly your average goody-two-shoes." He uncrowded his arms to accentuate his words in air quotes earning a giggle from you.
Oh he was smart. He was the holy trinity of bad boys it seemed. "Maybe you're not bad, Eddie, not necessarily good either. I'm sure you've made mistakes." You speak with a whole heart. Eddie was your neighbor and you wanted nothing more than to get to know him, but he seemed like a trouble maker.
"How do you know I'm good, sweetheart?" He asks leaning even closer, now being able to feel his breath ghost across your cheeks. Fanning your senses with the smell of smoke and mint. "What if I'm a murderer? Or a stalker?"
Your cheeks grow hot, "I-If you were you wouldn't be on parole. Most- Most crimes are-"
"Are what cutie?" Eddie enjoyed the way your grew so embarrassed from just a few compliments. He was enjoying this.
"Just major crimes are usually not considered for parole." You respond and Eddie steps back, the feeling of warmth flooding through you.
"How do you know I'm on parole? That I just didn't escape?" Eddie questions leaning forward with a smirk etching across his plump lips.
"Ankle bracelet. I saw it when you were smoking on the porch-" You don't expect him to lean back over and snatches your chin in his hand. Thumb brushing across your bottom lip. The metal of his rings felt cool against of your hot skin. Body involuntarily shuddering at his touch.
"You watching me, sweetheart?" He coos, with a tilt of his head.
"I-I didn't mean.." You stammered bashful.
"I think you should watch me more often. It's not often I get cute girls to stare me down." Eddie sends you a wink, before jumping back and turning to walk back towards his own porch. "See yah around, sweetheart."
He leaves you there, wanting, waiting, and needing more. Eddie Munson was certainly a character.
you must have known for a long time (the shape of things to come)
ok! so i know i keep saying this is the end, but actually i had to split it up because it once again got too long, so this is the next to the last chapter! and then an epilogue. thank you so much everyone who has been following this story and commenting and reblogging and waiting so patiently for updates, i would not have the motivation to push through the end performance anxiety without your encouragement!
part 11- recap: sleepy morning frottage, just some bonus smut
---
part 12
When Eddie woke up again, it was fully daylight. The cabin was lit with the white sunlight of mid-morning and filled with the sounds and smells of cooking breakfast. Also, the sounds of Steve singing along to Billy Joel on the stereo. Eddie couldn’t even regret not chucking that CD into the trees when he’d had the chance because Steve was shirtless and bouncing on his toes and swaying his hips to the rhythm and Eddie had never really paid attention to the lyrics before but he did now because Steve actually had a really nice voice and fuck he was so fucking fucked because Steve Harrington had done the impossible and possibly turned him into a Billy Joel fan. Or at least a fan of “River of Dreams.”
The whole scene was so achingly domestic it made Eddie’s teeth ache. And he had to concentrate on that and ignore the other ache, in his chest, in his gut, that meant he’d give just about anything to wake up to this on a regular basis, every day maybe, for the rest of his stupid pointless life.
“Hey! You’re up!” Steve said with a sunny smile over his shoulder, spatula in one hand while the other hand expertly moved the pan.
“Unfortunately,” Eddie said, grimacing with the feeling of dried cum and sweat making his skin feel tight.
“How’s the ankle feeling?” Steve asked.
Eddie groaned and stood, bearing most of his weight on his good leg as he stretched his arms over his head, feeling his back pop with satisfaction. “Actually, not that bad?” he said. His ankle still hurt and he wasn’t going to put his weight on it, but it didn’t feel nearly as bad as it had last night. “Shit, do you have a magic dick or something? Did you cure me?”
Steve blushed so prettily Eddie might have swooned a little bit. “You are so weird,” he laughed.
“Just the way you like it, baby,” Eddie grinned.
“Why don’t you go shower? I can smell you from here,” Steve said.
“Rude,” Eddie said. Although, fair. He did smell like hours-old sex. He stumbled into the shorts he’d been wearing last night. “Are you always this bitchy in the mornings?”
“Only when my boy-” Steve stumbled over the sentence momentarily, “uh- guy holds up breakfast because he slept in.”
Eddie decided to ignore the obvious flub. “It’s barely 9!” he said, hobbling towards the door.
“Exactly! Hey, take the crutch!” Steve said.
“The what?” Eddie said, glancing around. And sure enough, there was an actual shiny steel crutch propped up next to the door. “Where the hell did this come from?”
Steve shrugged, turning back to his cooking. “The shed. You think you’re the first person out here to fall down the steps?”
“Uh, kinda, yea?” Eddie blinked. He grabbed the crutch and went outside.
“Be careful on the stairs! Slide down on your butt!” Steve called after him.
Eddie rolled his eyes. He was not doing that.
After trying to hobble down a few steps with the crutch and coming dangerously close to toppling again (and he wasn’t sure god would let him escape without a broken neck this time, after all the gleeful sinning he’d done in his life), Eddie sat and slid down the steps one by one with the crutch across his knees, grumbling to himself. “So fucking stupid. You just had to fall down the steps and sprain your ankle like a jackass, didn’t you?”
When he got to the bottom of the steps, he stared for a solid minute at his laundry hung neatly on the clothes lines. His boxers, the boxers he tended to wear two or three days in a row because he hated doing laundry by hand and he was living by himself up here and if he got a whiff of his own balls sometimes who the hell gave a fuck? Those boxers waved in the soft, warm breeze, clean and drying in the sun now.
Eddie felt a blush creep over his whole body and he tried very hard not to think about Steve on his knees at the washtub with his dirty laundry. The fucker. The considerate, caring asshole. Jesus fucking christ.
It took Eddie twice as long as it usually would to go through his morning routine of dodging spiders in the outhouse and showering under a cold trickle of water and brushing his teeth in the warped cloudy mirror all while keeping his balance on the crutch and his good leg. After he carefully rewrapped his ankle (already looking a lot better than last night), he realized he hadn’t brought down a change of clothes and had to crawl backwards back up the stairs, gripping the towel closed around his waist and balancing the crutch across his lap. All around the most awkward, unsexy performance of his life, all while the man of his dreams cooked him breakfast and probably did his taxes while he was at it or some shit.
When he finally hobbled back into the cabin, no doubt looking like a half-drowned three-legged rat, he found Steve standing at the counter, staring down at the worn envelope marked with Eddie’s name with a little furrow in his brow. Steve startled when Eddie came in, picked up the two plates piled high with scrambled powdered eggs, bacon, and biscuits.
“Was starting to think a bear got you,” Steve teased, putting down the two plates at the little table for them. He’d already set the table with silverware, honey and jelly, cream and sugar, and a bottle of ibuprofen. At least he had a shirt on.
“I’ve never been that lucky,” Eddie muttered and moved as quickly as he could to pull out a set of clothing from the chest of drawers and get dressed. His face went red again as he had to sit on the bed to get on his boxers in what was the second unsexiest performance of his life. There was just something so awkward about your soft dick flopping around in your lap as you struggle to put a sprained ankle through the leghole of your last clean pair of boxers, the old ones with holes generously dotting the seams, while the insanely hot guy who made the most honest world-shattering love you’ve ever experienced to you last night sits waiting at the breakfast table with your food going cold, watching you with a stupid soft smile on his face like you’re the fucking sun when actually you’re an ex-con with repressed trauma and enough baggage to fill an airport carousel.
That was a universal experience, right? Eddie surely couldn’t be the first person ever to feel this specific shade of mortification.
Sharing breakfast with Steve was… everything he’d thought it would be. He couldn’t count the number of mornings he’d sat here or outside eating biscuits and honey or dried bananas and nuts because he was too lazy to even start up the oven, wondering what it would be like to share a meal with Steve. To know the way he took his coffee (one splash of cream, no sugar) or the way his jaw moved when he chewed, how his lips wrapped around the end of his finger to suck off a bit of jelly. How his eyes looked in the morning light (hazel! Little flecks of gold and green!), how his hands moved when he talked, how they wrapped around his mug of coffee, big and gentle.
Steve didn’t mention the envelope on the counter, for which Eddie was eternally grateful. Because he’d just managed to open the door a crack and he knew if Steve tried to shove his foot in, Eddie would panic and run like he always did. Maybe Steve knew this about him, because his eyes found the conspicuous envelope several times that morning, but he still didn’t ask.
“I need to get back to the tower,” Steve said apologetically as he came back up the steps a short while later carrying a bin of now clean dishes. He’d left Eddie to wipe down the stove and table, and to replace the bedsheet with a clean one. Eddie had also swept and cleared away the junk on his desk and tried to tidy up even though he normally wouldn’t give a shit. Having Steve do all this stuff for him was making him feel kinda useless, though, and he hated that feeling. Not that he wasn’t grateful, or that he was going to say anything to Steve about it, because he got the feeling Steve was one of those people who needed to take care of people. And it was nice. So nice, to be taken care of. It was just something Eddie needed to get comfortable with.
With a sort of hopeful fear that made something in his chest tremor, he thought maybe it was something he’d like to get comfortable with.
“Ah, the drawbacks of being with a working man. He must, sometimes, go to work,” Eddie said.
Steve grinned, crowded in close to Eddie, and he was in his boots again so he was just an inch or two taller than Eddie now, which made something in Eddie’s belly flip and quiver. In a really, really good way. “Hate to break it to you like this, but you’re a working man too, babe. Did you forget you have a job here?” he teased.
Eddie pouted. “Don’t I get PTO? Medical leave?”
“Not if you don’t actually leave?” Then Steve’s face took on a serious cast. “Seriously, though, if you feel like you need to go get it checked out by an actual medical professional-”
“No, no,” Eddie said, waving it off. “It’s fine. It’s actually already feeling better than last night.”
“Amazing what some ibuprofen and a good night’s rest will do,” Steve said, laying his hands gently on Eddie’s hips, leaning in closer, the irresistible smile ticking up the corners of his lips.
“And a magic dick,” Eddie quipped.
Steve laughed and his hand moved to cup Eddie’s face. He pressed his lips to Eddie’s, other arm wrapping around Eddie’s middle to pull him in close, hold him against his firm chest, and Eddie held himself up with hands on Steve’s shoulders so he could melt into it. No one had ever kissed him like Steve. It was so goddamn honest it made him want to cry and tell Steve every miserable detail of three decades of his life, but also every good thing that had ever happened to him. It just made him want to let himself be known. And that was terrifying.
Steve pulled back, laid his forehead against Eddie’s, staring into his eyes in a way that made Eddie squirm. He grinned. “Thank you for letting me spend the night. You were…” he let out a shaky breath. “You were fucking incredible.”
Eddie averted his eyes, couldn’t stand it anymore. The praise. The eye contact. The fucking Billy Joel still playing softly in the background because he hadn’t had the heart to turn it off. He shrugged. “You weren’t too bad yourself. I, uh, wouldn’t mind doing it again. Some time. If you’re in the area.”
Steve laughed and Eddie felt it in the rumble in his chest and the puff of air across his chin. He shifted back, slid his hand back into Eddie’s hair to scratch lightly at his scalp, cradle the side of his head. His eyes roved over Eddie’s face like he was trying to memorize every part of it, this look of soft awe on his expression that made Eddie’s cheeks heat. “Incredible,” Steve said again, before kissing Eddie’s forehead and finally backing away. He grabbed his backpack off the floor and Eddie followed him outside.
When Steve was nearly to the bottom of the steps, Eddie leaned over the railing and called down to him. “Thanks for everything! Um, breakfast and the dishes and,” he swallowed, felt his whole body go hot again. “For doing my laundry. You didn’t have to do that.”
Steve stopped and looked straight up at him from the bottom platform. “Repay me by staying off that ankle as much as possible. Do the butt crawl thing on the steps for a few days.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yea, yea, I will.”
Steve grinned. “Also, I used your toothbrush this morning, so we’re even.” Then he hopped nimbly over the railing like a show-off, skipping the last eight steps, and just barely managed to stick the landing. He turned and walked backwards to his bike, giving Eddie little finger guns and a wink.
Eddie kind of hated himself for how fucking horny he was for this man.
The fact that he radioed back two minutes after he was out of sight to say that next time he “wanted a demonstration of ‘ribbed for his pleasure’” did nothing to quench the embarrassing thirst Eddie had for Steve Harrington, once King of Hawkins High and now King of the Dorks.
Summary: Eddie cuts a deal with his parole officer in order to get out early. As things start to become normal Eddie realizes just how free he isn't until he meets you.
Warnings: mentions of illegal drug use, drugs, alcohol, cursing, language, crime, petty theft, abuse of illegal substances, and of course 18+
She brushes her hands over the skin, his bare chest now available for her eyes. A deep desire pools within her gut, desperate and needy. She wanted him, need him, and in this moment she would fulfill that desire-
KNOCK KNOCK
You huff folding the top left corner of your current page, shutting the book and setting it aside atop the coffee table. You push off the couch going to fix your dress and sweater, "Who could that even be at this hour?"
It was currently 9:30 P.M. and you weren't really expecting any visitors. You approach the door, bare feet padding across the beige carpeting of the floor. You reach the door and unfasten both the bolt and chain locks, then slowly open the front door. Shocked by the familiar figure standing on your doorstep.
Dark mangy curls, big brown eyes, leather jacket, and all. "Eddie?"
"Heya, sweetheart." He greets you with a dimpled smile. That makes you flush cheeks becoming rosy hot. Something about the way he said it just rolled of his tongue so pleasantly sweet. Quite the charmer Eddie was.
You return the enthusiasm, "Hi, Eddie. What brings you over?" Your hand still rests on the knob in case things go awry. It's not that there was lack of trust, while Eddie seemed nice, his reputation spoke more for him.
"Listen," He starts arms folding across his broad chest, "I just want to talk. I messed up." His brows furrow and Eddie shakes his head. You eye him up and down even glance behind him. He turns his gaze downwards, dropping his head, he felt so weak in this moment. His façade was slipping but luckily for him you understood.
"Of course." Your sweet tone dipped in silk and laced with a kindness Eddie never knew. "Come in, I'll make some tea." Stepping aside and opening the door further. Eddie's timidness is understanding. If someone were to be watching him right now he'd look so guilty. "Don't worry about the carpet, Eddie." You chimed. Eddie felt so besides himself in that moment.
Your least concern was the fucking carpet with a wanted man standing in your doorway that you willingly invited. "R-Right. Sorry." He apologizes only realizing you'd been waiting on him. Taking three steps places him just at the apex of your living room and you shut the door, locking it back into place.
"That's okay. I don't get many visitors and especially not cute ones." You call back to him as you enter the kitchen. Eddie is still dumbfounded by the whole situation. Your home was quaint, welcoming even. The smell of apples, cinnamon, and honey all quite so sweet.
The walls were painted an off yellow similar to the color of champagne. Your décor reminiscent of a small cottage, a few house plants set in the living room added a pleasant touch. As he wanders further towards the couch his eyes catch sight of the many hanging photos, especially the one placed neatly on the coffee table. It was a photo of you dressed in a yellow sundress, similar to the one he'd seen you in two days ago. You were happy. Eddie wished for even a semblance of the emotion his life lacked. "I hope you like tea, Eddie."
He'd been so focused on peaking around the house he'd forgotten about you. "Never really drank tea. I'm a beer and soda kinda guy." Eddie admits. He wasn't usually this open to anyone, but you were just so easy to talk to. Plopping down onto the couch next to you, making your own body jump slightly on the cushion. A smile graces your lips as you situate two small cups on the table.
One for you and the other for the extinguished guest. Eddie watches as you take the teapot and pour the dark liquid into each cup evenly. "Sugar?"
He looks back to her face, cheeks flushing, and Eddie stumbles. "I-I ugh don't know. Maybe?"
"For your tea. To make it sweet." Your soft voice makes him melt, it different than what he was used to.
"Sure, however you normally fix it is fine. I'm not a big tea drinker." Eddie admits. You human agreement and work three spoons of sugar into the cup with a bit of honey. He takes the cup once your finished and lifts it to his lips to taste. You smile as he nodded, "Damn. This is good."
"Thank you, Eddie." You take a small sip of your own tea smacking your lips as the honey slides pleasantly down your throat, warmth flooding through you. "So, you wanted to talk?"
Eddie nodded and spoke, "Firstly, I don't have the best track record. I mean selling drugs isn't exactly a proud career choice."
You hum in thought sipping on warm tea as he speaks. "But I mean I was fucking good at it. Could get anyone to buy anything even if it wasn't high quality."
Before he continues you stop him, "Wait, you sold drugs?"
"Yeah, sweetheart. All kinds too." He mentioned and you nod. You quickly run over to grab your notebook and write down things here and there as Eddie spoke.
Hours went by as Eddie poured his feelings out to you. His reputation was extensively long and he took pride in his past self, compared to what he was like now. You learned several things about Eddie tonight, probably more than most people would. He was creative person a writer, musical enthusiast, and currently really attractive.
"Hellfire, huh?" You ask tilting a brow upwards, one elbow propped up on the couch, body turned to completely face him.
Eddie chuckles leaning closer. "Yeah, people swore I was in a cult." He replies waving a hand across the air before dropping it down in his lap followed by a grin.
"You don't seem like a cultist." You assure him reaching forward to fix the collar of his jacket. Eddie looks down at your hand. Eyes trailing up over your arm, venturing to your neck, face, and most importantly your lips. Your own eyes dart down to his and Eddie smirks.
"See something you like, sweetheart?" One more thing about Eddie Munson, the man was a fabulous kisser. Lips on yours lighting a fire within you that never existed before tonight. Your hands find their way to his shoulders then his hair as Eddie's lips trail to your neck, lighting a warmth across your skin as he went.
"Yeah, you." You reply breathlessly. He chuckles and you cave into those brown eyes as he pulls back. Oh he was bad and he knew it.
Eddie wasn't the best for you, but it felt so right to be here with him in this moment.
Summary: Eddie cuts a deal with his parole officer in order to get out early. As things start to become normal Eddie realizes just how free he isn't until he meets you.
Warnings: mentions of illegal drug use, drugs, alcohol, cursing, language, crime, petty theft, abuse of illegal substances, and of course 18+
Today has been a slow day for you, especially so in the work department. Publishing small journal articles on small happenings in an uneventful town like Hawkins was a pain. There was no reward for your work at times and days like today were nice, but exclusively boring. You began to wonder what Eddie busied himself with all day.
After all he wasn't allowed to go to far. Maybe to the store and his job up the street at Rickey's Automotive, the auto-shop just up the street. Not a broad radius if you really thought about it.
So what was Eddie doing?
Eddie was relaxed on the couch, right arm resting across his upper thigh, the other holding the joint secure in his left. Completely doped out of his mind. Joint held secure between his index and thumb, bringing it to his lips for another hit. Drugs were one of the coping mechanisms he'd learn to fall back on. It numbed his pain, the loss, and the steadily growing loneliness. Eyes reddened, dark circles hung beneath a half-lidded gaze, eyes glassy from the abuse, but could care less. All he knew was that it felt damn good.
Whole body numbed and thoroughly relaxed. His arm that sat nestled on his thigh swings over the back of the couch, fingers brushing over the worn leather, resting it there. Legs stretched out and spread, it was the most relaxed he'd ever been. Right now Eddie was stuck in his mind. Thoughts as such usually lead to many nights in the trailer where he'd black out on drugs and booze. Tonight was no different.
He was tethered to the world and its high standards. If people saw Eddie as a no good, dope dealing, then that's what he was. He was only acting out because he'd been dealt such a hard hand in life. Eddie was fed lies throughout his entire life.
Things would get better!
High school doesn't last forever!
No one will remember you after all those years!
Lies! All of it!
No matter what bullshit was fed to him things did not get better. He didn't get better. Eddie takes another drag, allowing the drug to cloud his mind. As he exhales another cloud of smoke exit his parted lips, head lolling back against the cushions.
Mind hazy and completely void, cleared of any thoughts. Going to bring the joint up to his waiting lips. Parted in anticipation, until its snatched away. Large slender fingers, calloused and worn pulls the blunt from his fingers.
Steve's lips were pulled into a thin line, jaw tight. "Are you fucking kidding me, Munson?" He snarled, cheeks hot with anger.
Eddie's eyes narrowed, smacking his lips at the loss. Turning his head at the sound of the voice. His demeanor change from calm and collected to defensive. Sure he was caught smoking but it wasn't so bad. Right?
"Heyyy." Eddie drawls, "It's Officer Hardass." Each of his words were spoken at a slightly slowed pace. He didn't realize Steve had even walked in. His boots met the carpet silently, not even creaking under his weight. Mind completely fogged from the abuse.
"Munson!" Steve sets the joint into the ashtray beside him, dousing out the flame. He was livid, "Christ, I said no drugs!" His shoulder tense, chest rising and falling rapidly beneath the vest, Eddie still relaxed on the couch. He grins head lolling off to the side as as fit of giggles escapes him at the officers frustration.
Eddie lifts his arm, the one draped over the couch, and flicks his wrist in a waving motion. "Relax, dude. I only had like 3 joints. No need to get all tense. Maybe you need a hit." Eddie snickers and Steve fucking loses it.
He stomps around the couch, boots meeting the floor and in quick angry strides. Large hands curl their way into the faded denim of Eddie's jacket. Yanking the doped out metalhead from the couch. He let's out a yelp the peace being disturbed. "What the hell man?!" Eddie throws his hands up in the air in defense.
Steve backs him up against the wall Eddie stumbling over his own feet and nearly busting his ass. His back collides harshly with the wall and the wind is knocked from his chest. "Ow- Fuck!"
"You got some nerve pullin' this shit kid." Steve spat in his face. Eddie's fingers curl into fists nails digging into his palm and knuckles turning white.
"You got some nerve slamming me around." Eddie snaps back with just as much venom. Steve clenches his jaw nostrils flaring as he brings one finger up to jab him in the chest.
"You better fucking watch it." He warned. The man was already livid. Eddie had made a promise and here he was breaking it. The kid was gonna land his ass back in jail.
"You watch it, asshole!" The brunette jeers raising both arms and shoving Steve back off him, causing the officer to stumble back. Half from shock and the other from the harshness of the shove. Eddie wasn't thinking clearly, but Steve was already in to deep with his anger. Practically swimming in it. Eddie is stuck in a wide stance fists slightly raised. Steve mocking his stance, legs apart, arms ready to go if Eddie made a move.
"Eddie," He warns, "Don't." There's not enough time to prepare the officer for the attack. Eddie charges at him, low and with such a force. They stumble over the coffee table knocking it over. Shattering the glass as the dark-haired man tackles Steve to the floor. Small shards digging into his skin. Things were happening so fast.
"Fuck you!" Eddie snarls raising his fist to swing at Steve. Having straddling him at the hips. He takes this as his opportunity. "You're not in control of my life! Fucking piece of-" The metalhead grunts as Steve knocks his knee into Eddie's thigh. With the lack of coordination and drugs laced in his system, he stumbles.
Steve sits up reaching for Eddie's bicep. His grip is tight, cruel against the brunette's skin. He rolls them over until Eddie is chest down, back up on the ground. His legs straddling Eddie's lower back. "No." He snaps. "You're gonna listen." With a huff Steve grabs the cuffs and snaps them onto his wrists.
Eddie struggles beneath him but eventually stills beneath him. "Stand down, kid." The younger male relaxes against the carpet. Cheek digging into the ground, anger and adrenaline coursing through him. Eventually it subsided.
Hours later Eddie is back in an interrogation room. Eddie was ashamed of himself sure. Anger and malice getting the best of him. His jaw is still clenched, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek. Steve storms in through the door letting it slam behind him, "Can't fucking believe you." Steve hisses. He takes a seat, plopping down in the chair, tossing his file down on the paper. "Wanna tell me what happened, Eddie?"
He looks down at his shaking hands and shakes his head. "No, don't wanna talk 'bout it." Eddie is all jangled nerves, knee bouncing nervously.
"Eddie?" Steve urges.
"I said, No! Just back off me, man!" Eddie snaps lunging across the table. He was snappy and Steve knew it. He knew this would happen.
"I'm trying to help, Eddie." Steve attempts to reassure him, but the metalhead isn't having it.
"No, just leave me alone."
"Fine, Eddie. Spend some time in here to think about it."
