#Stranger Things story

[strangelysamantha]

doubt ☆

steve harrington x reader.

summary: after witnessing what he thinks is a friendly interaction between you and your ex billy, steve is left with a lot of doubt.

a/n: my master list is pinned on my page :). like and comment if you enjoy! i want to write stories you guys like, so please interact so i can keep the stories coming!! 🩷🖤

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billy was right in front of you, his voice low. "look, i know we aren't supposed to be talking right now, but i had to see you." you stare at him, “i don’t really have any interest in talking to you.” he leans forward, “i know i hurt you. just please talk to me.” you frown, “what is there to talk about?” you hesitate, already nervous to even be standing in the same room as him. “i hate the way things ended. i just needed to see you one last time.”

you cross your arms unamused. “look i get that. but you ruined your chance with me the moment you fucked a random girl.” he sighs, his eyes pooling with sadness. “i know. i just needed some closure.” you roll your eyes at that, “well you won’t be finding that with me. you messed up billy.” he shakes his head. “i made a mistake, okay? i regret it, and im really sorry.” you look behind you, before glancing at him again. "billy, what's done is done. we can’t anymore, i’m sorry." you shake your head, attempting to leave the room. he grits his teeth, immediately grabbing your wrist. he squeezes deeply, making sure you can’t walk away.

steve just so happened to be walking by your third period class when he saw you standing next to billy. he couldn’t see your face entirely, but billy had a nasty smirk hung on his lips. he looked down and noticed that billy was holding your wrists. his stomach had a giant pit, his mind starting to rush with twisted imagery of you and billy. he had your voice in the back of his head, reassuring him that you wanted nothing to do with him. but seeing how close you two were standing only fueled the negative thoughts.

you remove your wrists out of his grasp, an ache starting to form, “i’m done here. i don’t know what you expected from me.” you look down, uncomfortable by the whole interaction. billy glances behind you and notices steve watching the interaction unfold. he knew he could use this to his advantage. he leans forward to whisper in your ear, the sight of this makes steve sick and he immediately rushes to the nearest bathroom.

“cmon, just one more time for old time’s sake?” he chuckles, you groan in disgust; “never in a million years.” with that you leave the empty room; heading to your next class. you wanted to tell steve about everything but you weren’t going to see him until lunch. the next two classes went unbearably slow, and it didn’t help that billy had ruined your entire mood.

at lunch you were cheerfully looking for steve. you missed him, and you only had so much time before you had to return to sitting in a boring classroom. you couldn’t find him in the building so you assumed he went out to his car. you left the school, quickly trying to make it to steve’s car.

you found him in the car, his eyes puffy with tear stains. your heart broke at the sight, you tried opening the door but it was locked. you knocked on the window attempting to get him to let you in, but you noticed he hesitated. you frown, confusion washing over you. you knock again, and he unlocks the car. you quickly hop in the car, pulling him into a hug. “what’s wrong stevie?” his heart pangs at the nickname, now feeling worse than when he was just alone. “nothing, i’m just stressed.” his lack of communication was new to you, usually he’d tell you everything, immediately, half the time you wouldn’t even have to ask.

“please talk to me.” you sigh, your hand resting on his knee. he looks down and noticed your wrists were red and discolored. “what happened?” you follow his eyes to your wrist, you awkwardly look around, “billy tried talking to me earlier. i kept telling him to leave me alone, and when i tried to leave he grabbed my wrists forcing me to stay put.” you frown now, “i just hate him. the way he acts like he’s above everyone. he can’t just get whatever he wants.”

steve half smirks, “you mean, whoever?” you lightly slap his shoulder, “i guess..” you drag out the last word rolling your eyes. “steve i so badly would have rather spent those 5 minutes with you. he honestly ruined my day.” you look back up at steve and remember what you had walked into. “but can we talk about you? what happened?”

he chuckles, wiping his tears. “well i kinda feel silly now.” you tilt your head, “why? what do you mean?” he sighs, “i saw you and billy talking. in that moment i figured it was mutual; like you guys were secretly meeting up.” your mouth opens in shock, “steve! no way would i ever willingly talk to billy.” he nods, “i know that now. i just wasn’t expecting it.” you look into steves eyes, your hand reaching for his. “i want to be yours steve. i want nothing to do with billy.” he grins, “so can i beat him up for putting his hands on you?” you scratch the back of you neck, “not trying to be mean, but your fighting track record isn’t the greatest…” he scoffs, obviously offended. “i need to protect you though.”

“thank you steve. and in any other circumstance i’d love for you to defend me and protect me, but with billy it’s different.” steve furrowed his brows so you continue, “if you provoke him it’ll get worse, he’ll know he’s getting under your skin. i don’t want to deal with him.” steve unfortunately understands and knows you are right. “it would be nice though to teach him a lesson.” you smile at the idea of steve humiliating billy. “maybe one day, if he continues to egg us on, but for now can we just forget about him?” steve agrees.

you pull steve into a kiss, then you pull away to kiss his cheeks. “you’re just so cute steve.” he blushes at your words, avoiding your gaze. “i’m sorry for making you think that about billy.” he shakes his head, “it’s my fault. i should have trusted you better, i just let him get in my head.” you notice the time and realized your lunch break was almost over. “we have like no time left.” you frown. “wanna skip?” you bite your lip, contemplating his offer. “hmm why not?” he laughs, “yes! let’s go to mine, yeah?” you nod, “that sounds good!”

you lean back in your seat, your eyes glued to steve. he was so handsome and sexy. “i can’t believe steve harrington got jealous over me.” he laughs, “hey im sorry but i like you, so now everyone you talk to will be judged by me.” you fight a smile, “as long as i end up with you at the end of the day, you can judge anyone you want.” he reaches over his free hand grabbing your thigh. “we need to ice those wrists.” you nod, “dr steve will you heal me?” he brings your wrist to his lips, “of course i will, baby.”

when you make it to steve’s, he quick to get you settled. he changes you into one of his shirts, he gets you two bags of ice, and he even offered to take your shoes off when you arrived. you were so thankful for steve. “thank you for everything.” he sets up a movie. he pulls you into a hug, before cuddling you on the couch. “anything for you.”

[random-imagines-blog]

Struck Blind {Steve Harrington x Reader, Part 6}

Wordcount: 2641 Chapter Summary: There's some strangeness around Billy. Steve-free chapter.

Previous Chapter can be found here. Next Chapter can be found here.

Something was going on with Billy. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was but he was spending more time out than usual. He was yelling back at Neil more than usual. He wasn’t playful with you or Max, he wasn’t teasing or offering to spend time with you. He only really came home to sleep. At first, you thought perhaps he found himself a girlfriend rather than fucking around all the time, that could be an explanation for being out at all hours of the night. But not the surly attitude. And not him ignoring you like this. He had never done that before. What if he had found out about your date with Steve - what if he had overheard Max asking you about it when you got home afterwards? No, even that wouldn’t account for this. He’d be mad but he’d most likely try to lecture you about it, to remind you of what a piece of shit Steve was. He wasn’t the type to keep it bottled inside - he took it out on the world.

But it also wasn’t as if Billy was the kind of guy who would let loose his feelings if he was pestered to. So you just watched him from afar, and hoped for the best. There was nothing else for it.

You grabbed a Popsicle and sat outside on the front porch, trying to catch any of the breeze that was supposed to be out here, according to the weatherman. But there was no breeze - just clouds starting to form, threatening a storm. You sighed and went over my options for the day - bus to the mall, bus to the library… all involving buses because Billy was MIA. There was only a small oil patch on the ground where his Camaro usually was. You licked the cherry Popsicle and stared at it, thinking about the night that we got into that accident. And how that really showed Billy’s character. That he just took off after that. Left you there because you wanted to help. Maybe you didn’t know your cousin as well as you thought that you did.

“Do you know where Billy is?” Max’s voice hit you. You looked up to see her and Eleven starting to walk up towards the house. Their expressions were extremely serious. Much more serious than someone their ages should be.

“No idea, he was gone before I was awake,” You said, looking between the two. “I don’t even know if he came home at all last night.”

Now the two girls looks at each other.

A moment later, after filling you in about what they had done last night, Eleven with her astral projection or whatever it’s called, you were in Billy’s room with them, keeping a look-out though everyone was at work. “Why do I get the feeling we’re going to find all kinds of wrong in here?” Max asked.

“Just don’t touch any tissues, they’re not used for sneezing,” You advised, wishing you had thought to put on some dish washing gloves. But you were too curious not to be in here. Too concerned not to.

Billy’s room was messier than it usually was - not that he kept it clean exactly but this was the room of someone that had been distracted. Dirty clothes spilling out of his laundry basket and onto the ground; his radio still on and playing metal music; his ashtray overflowing and so he started using a plate that still had sandwich crumbs on it. You remembered making him that sandwich. That was days ago.

Max went to his night table, opening it up and peering inside. “Ugh, gag me with a spoon,” She said, closing it back up quickly. You didn’t have to ask what was in there. Teenage boys. Disgusting.

You don’t find anything in the bedroom, other than the signs that he hadn’t been cleaning, so you three went into the bathroom. It had changed since you had taken a shower yesterday afternoon. The bathtub was filled with water, and empty plastic bags were swimming on the surface. Bags of ice from the corner store. The ones used to fill coolers and the like.

“Max?” El asks. Your redhead cousin stepped forward, grabbing one of the empty plastic bags.

“Ice,” She said, reading the bag. “It’s just ice. It’s probably for his muscles or something. He works out like a maniac, right y/n?”

“He does,” You had to agree with that, but the fact that he would just leave the mess in there despite knowing that Neil would get on his case about it … that was a bad sign. And then your eyes caught on another one. Blood. You definitely hadn’t noticed that today. El noticed too. Her breath was trembling, and you lightly put your arm around her, trying to reassure her that everything was going to be okay, that there was an explanation for this, a reasonable one, there had to be. But she pulls from you and opens up the cupboard beneath the sink. She pulls out the garbage bucket that was in there. The one that you cleaned a few days ago, emptying into the trash bin.

“What is it?” You ask with a tremor.

El pulled out the red lifeguard first aid kit, and then there was a lanyard, with a bright yellow whistle. Or it had been bright yellow. Now, like the lanyard, it was blood stained.

“Well shit,” You sighed.

--

And somehow, you ended up in the locker room of the pool, after discovering that Billy wasn’t there, and that the lifeguard first aid kit, and the whistle, belong to Heather Holloway. The locker room smelt like wet clothes and unwashed feet, something that was noticed by Max too as her nose curled up once you were in there. But there wasn’t much time to waste.

You start flooding the locker room, turning on showers, sink taps, everything that we can in order to help El find Heather. Find Billy.

“This could just be .. jerk Billy behavior right?” You asked Max, as El was putting duct tape over a diving mask. “You don’t think it’s…”

“I don’t know. He’s always been weird,” Max said, which you could understand. “But he was doing a lot better since you came here so…”

Although that was a really nice thing to hear, it didn’t help that much right now. “Wish it worked enough that he would actually talk to me when something is wrong,” You mumbled.

The two of you fell into silence when El put on the blacked out diving mask, and began to look for Heather. You sat on one side of her, Max on the other, your shoes becoming soaked by the flooded floor. You just looked at her. Her powers were fascinating to you. This was the first time that you had ever seen her use them.

“What do you see?” Max asked.

“A door. A red door.”

After another minute or two, El takes off the mask. Her nose bleeding. You immediately get up to find a towel while El collapses in Max’s hands. Your cousin and yourself look at each other, and you're both thinking the same thing.

Whatever this is - it’s not good.

She comes around a short time later, and she tells everything that she saw. The red door. Heather, the missing lifeguard, she’s screaming, she’s reaching to El for help, but then she gets quickly taken away by … something. And if it wasn’t something to do with the Upside Down, then El should have been able to see it. But it wasn’t clear what it was. Something was stirring in Hawkins again, and you were apparently going to be here for it.

In your still wet shoes, you flirt with the manager of the pool, and you get him to tell you the address of Heather. It took some eyelash batting but you got the job done, thanking him for being so helpful, and how he’s such a good man to do this favor, and you even wink at him, sticking your tongue out as you turn back around.

You take the address with me back to Max and El, who are getting ready on their bikes.. “Let’s go,” You said, jumping onto the back of Max's, holding on to her shoulders.

The streets aren’t flooded yet but if the rain continues, they just might be.

Max knew the city better than you or El, but the three of you were squinting through raindrops, trying to read the numbers on the mailboxes to find the right one and then - red door.

“Is this it?” Max asked.

El nodded and together, you three walked up. You felt responsible for these kids now. Was this how Steve had felt, when he watched over them at the junkyard? When he nearly sacrificed himself to take care of the demodogs, as Dustin had called them? Whatever, you just knew that you were going to go through everything that they did. Not leave them alone in the off chance that there was something, anything that you could do.

Especially if Billy was somehow involved.

We didn’t bother knocking. Or rather, El didn’t, since she somehow unlocked the door with her mind. You walked in behind them and noticed that the interior made everything really look like it was the perfect family home. As you walked down the hallway, you saw a large family portrait. Professionally done. Mother, Father, Daughter, happy posing smiles. Looking like something straight out of Leave it to Beaver.

You hear a laugh and the three of you looked at each other. It was the last sound that you expected to hear, if Heather was really in trouble. And then seeing the happy family together, with Billy sitting there, was the last thing that you had expected to see.

“Isn’t that cute, huh?” Billy was saying.

“He’s too funny,” Mother was saying to Father.

And that’s the scene that we walked in on. And just because we were in the shot of it now, didn’t mean that it was over, apparently. Billy saw you. He saw Max. He said your names out loud.

“We didn’t mean to barge in,” Max said, speaking for the three of you. El and Max both looked like they were in disbelief. You were studying Billy, trying to figure out what was so different about him. “We tried to knock, but maybe you didn’t hear us over the storm.”

“I’m sorry, who is this dripping all over my living room right now?”

“I’m sorry,” Billy said. That was one of the startling things right there. He didn’t apologize for anything. Not unless he was being forced to and even then, it only ever came out as sarcastic. “Janet, Tom, this is my sister Maxine, and my cousin Y/N.”

He stood up, and started to walk over to you, El and Max. You stood your ground, dripping but not moving, and you were looking straight into his blue eyes.

You had known Billy all of your life. You spent time together in the same crib. The same playpens. He was at almost all of your birthday parties until they had moved here to Indiana. He was the one that you went to when you were angry, because he either helped hype up that anger until you burnt yourself out, or he was able to help you, when he didn’t even know how to help himself. He was the boy that was only scared of his dad and of dark places, like caves, or even the tubes inside of McDonalds play-places when the lights were dimmed.

So essentially, you knew Billy. Better than his father did, better than Max did. The only person who might have known him better was his mother. The person whose eyes that you were looking into right now - you knew that it was not Billy. It might have looked like Billy. But it was definitely not him. Like someone made a doll of him, a puppet. There might have been a trace, far back, but right behind those eyes was someone else. Something Else.

“What on earth are you doing here? Is something wrong?”

Your immediate reaction was to protect these girls, despite the fact that Eleven was an actual weapon and that Max could definitely handle herself, as she showed Billy last fall. You are the adult here. You need to act like it. So you pushed yourself between the two girls, standing in front of them, even as they spoke.

“We just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Max said, her confusion showing through her voice. And now here was fake Billy with his fake concern.

“Okay, why wouldn’t it be okay?”

“Where is she?” Eleven asked.

“I’m sorry, where is who?”

Coming out of the kitchen, carrying a tray of cookies, the smell hitting you before the realization of who it was that was carrying them, came Heather. Not a scratch on her. Almost too squeaky clean. Not at all the way that Eleven had described.

But because of how Billy was acting, you believed Eleven. There was something not right going on here.

“Well, they’re a little burnt, I’m sorry-” Heather said, in her usually sweet voice. It was definitely her own voice, her own face. But whether it was actually Heather, you didn’t know. This whole scene was looking a bit too.. domestic bliss.

“Heather, this is my cousin y/n, and my sister Maxine,” Billy introduced. “And I’m sorry, I did not catch your name.”

“That’s not important,” You spoke, staring at Billy. “What are you doing here?”

That’s when El spoke, not to say her name, but to stare at Heather. “I … saw … you -”

“Your manager, at the pool,” Max said quickly. “He said you guys didn’t come in to work today, so we got worried.”

“Heather wasn’t feeling so hot today, so we thought we’d take the day off to nurse her back to health. But you’re feeling just fine now, aren’t you Heather?”

“I’m feeling so much better,” Heather agreed.

Billy looked past you at Eleven. And the look that was in his eyes - it proved to you even further that this was not your cousin. This was not the Billy that you had grown up with. There was something else in there, wearing his skin. Pretending that this was Halloween and that this boy was simply a costume. The three of you were offered cookies by Heather and her mother but you weren’t going to take them.

You didn’t want to leave without Billy. “Could you drive us home?” you asked him, pleaded with the Billy that still had to be inside of there somewhere. You couldn’t believe that he was gone. “It’s raining pretty hard out.”

“I can’t be rude,” Billy said, which was … not true. Billy could be rude. Billy was rude. The light drained from your eyes then, and you turned to the girls behind you. “Let’s go.”

The three of you in disbelief, you headed back outside into the rain. You didn’t skateboard this time. You just tucked it under your arm and walked along with the girls as they moved slowly, not able to see too much as the fog rolled in with the pelting drops. You took one last look over your shoulder at Heather’s house, and saw Billy, watching through the window. The look that he exchanged with El was more chilling than the cold rain.

“That wasn’t him,” You said, as you made your way back to Max’s house. El looked at you, like she believed you. Like she had seen it for herself, even if she didn’t have the most experience with Max’s brother. But your red haired cousin - she didn’t look so sure.

[yeahwhatdidisay]

Closed Wounds, Open Scars

A Prequel to 'The Hereafter' [AO3 Link]

Summary: The conversation you needed after an offhand comment from Dustin sent you spiraling.

Thank goodness for your best friend, Steve.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington, Duston Henderson

Warnings: Angst...the usual angst

A/N: Just like last time, took a quick break from my current story because inspiration hit. Hope you all like it.

“Are you okay?”  

You quickly wiped away the tears that stained both your cheeks.  Quieting your already hushed sobs and trying desperately to steady your breathing so your voice didn’t shake.

“I’m fine…” you managed to get out without your voice cracking while you continued to face away from him. “I’m fine….was I making too much noise?”

Steve stood for a moment in the doorway before slowly making his way into the back den in his parents' large home.  Holding your now sleeping one year old in his arms.

“No…not at all.” he whispered, sitting down on the couch as gently as he could without waking the baby.

You took another moment to collect yourself before turning toward him, choosing to keep your gaze slightly away hoping he wouldn’t notice you were upset in the light of the single lamp. 

It was obvious to him, even in the dim lights, that you had been crying pretty heavily just before he walked into the den.

Even without seeing you completely he knew.  He always knew.

Steve had been making a point to have as many get-togethers as he could, especially considering a large chunk of the group were going to go off to college soon.

They were nice ‘get togethers’.  Usually happening at the small apartment he shared with Robin and mainly consisting of pizza and movies.  Sometimes dancing would erupt, or games would be initiated although when the boys would bring out their D&D pieces you usually opted to watch rather than play like you used to.

Playing the game was too hard now, but you did enjoy seeing the others play.

Even after you’d given birth to your little Edwyn the gatherings continued.  

Steve made sure to let you know having a baby didn’t change your group dynamic. Especially since everyone adored the happy little girl.

Today’s gathering had been just like all the others had been but had taken a slight turn as the night came to a close.  

It was getting late and the others had started to trickle out of Steve’s parent’s home.

A rarity as of lately but you all enjoyed taking advantage of the pool and the large space whenever they asked him to house sit. 

Dustin had been holding onto his niece while you packed everything up.  

He had been staring down at the calm baby and mentioned how much like Eddie she was starting to look.  Moreso now that her hair was growing out.

It was a small, innocent comment.  Sounding more like an inner thought that had managed to sneak its way out but it had caused the breath to be  taken right out of you, nonetheless.

He was right.  

Each day that passed brought more and more of Eddie’s features out onto your daughter's face.

Especially when she smiled.

You were sure that Edwyn had felt a shift in your mood because soon after she began to wail in the way that babies do which caused Dustin to panic.

“What did I do?  I promise I was just holding her!” he began to blurt out.

“It’s alright Dustin.” You reassured, quickly regaining your composure.  “Babies have the tendency to cry at the drop of a hat.”

You took Edwyn into your arms and began to lightly bounce, shushing as you did so to try and calm her.

“I’m sorry…I don’t…”

“Don’t be sorry.  This is just what babies do sometimes.  You should know, you’ve been over to our place enough to witness it.”

Your soft smile reassured him.

“Okay, um…we still on for the game next week at my place, right?  You sure you don’t want to join?  We miss playing with you.”

“I’m sure.  I’ll be there, though.  You guys want a pie this time or the cheese dip?”

“Dip please!  Your pies are good but nothing beats your taco cheese dip.”

“You got it.”

“Alright then.” Dustin said, leaning in for a side hug like he always did when you both said goodbye.  “Need help taking things out to your car?”

“I think I’ll stay here till Edwyn calms down.  Nothing worse than driving with a screaming baby in the backseat.”

“Okay…I really am sorry.”

“Stop it, you dingus!  This isn’t your fault!  I’ll see ya.”

You laughed which invited Dustin to do the same.

“Okay, see ya, Y/N.”

Dustin walked down the walkway and into the car he’d borrowed from his mom.

As he drove out of sight your happy demeanor began to crack.  The tears that you’d so skillfully hidden started to collect in your eyes as you continued to try and calm your baby.

“Man, she’s got a nice set of lungs on her. Doesn’t she?” Steve said, walking out from the kitchen where he was cleaning up.  

You quickly regained your composure and turned to him with a smile.

“She really does…” you said without a hint of how you were actually feeling.

“Can I try?” Steve asked, outstretching his arms toward the two of you.

Steve loved helping out with Edwyn whenever he could.  To the point where he would stop by just to hang out with the two of you so he’d had plenty of practice by this point.

“Be my guest.”

You handed her over to him.  She liked Steve and would often smile as soon as he held her, but today his charms weren’t working like they usually did. 

“She might be hungry.  Is it okay if I stay a little longer to make her a quick bottle?  We’ll be out of your hair in 20 minutes.  Half an hour, tops.”

“Stay as long as you’d like.” he said, cooing down at her as he bounced her like you had been. 

You walked over to her bag, taking out the formula and her bottle before going into the kitchen to prep it.

You’d been over at Steve’s parents a few times but it was enough to know where everything was.  You quickly mixed the bottle and placed it on the stove without much fuss but it was as you stood by the stove that Dustin’s words began to repeat in your mind.

You kept thinking about what Dustin had said.  How Edwyn was looking more and more like Eddie and before you knew it your thoughts were weaving through your mind to places you tried desperately to stay away from.

You realized it had been a while since anyone had brought up Eddie.  Even when you visited with Wayne so he could see his granddaughter you were both careful not to bring him up.   

At least not directly.

You would talk about him often but did so using other identifiers or pronouns. 

‘He would have loved her’.  ‘My boy would have been over the moon over her laugh.’  ‘That dork would have loved this movie…or that show…’.  

The both of you sharing your thoughts and memories of him but not fully bringing him into the conversation.  

Neither of you being able to say his name.

The realization brought another sharp pain to your chest.

Guilt.

“Eddie…” you whispered, repeating his name a few more times. “Eddie…Eddie…”

The tears began to well up in your eyes before trailing down your cheeks.

In an instant you began to crack again, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you began to cry.

“How’s the bottle coming along?” you heard Steve’s voice call.  Getting closer to the kitchen.

You quickly brought yourself back to where you were.  Taking the bottle out of the pot and jiggling it so a few drops fell onto your arm to test the temperature.

Edwyn had quieted but she was still crying when Steve walked into the kitchen. 

“I was able to settle her down a bit but the little princess is hungry.  Aren’t you you sweet little rockstar…everything alright?”

You turned quickly and handed Steve the bottle without lifting your face up.

“Yeah, I’m fine.  I, uh, just need a minute.  Is it okay if you feed her?”  

Your words came out at an accelerated speed.  Not waiting for Steve to answer before you walked out of the kitchen toward the hallway where the bathroom was.

Instead of locking yourself into it you continued to the den at the other end of the hall where you’d all been watching movies.

The lights were off except for the light coming from the single lamp that had been left on.

It was here that you were finally able to let yourself go.  It was here in the dark that you’d walked over to the large window at the other end of the room, overlooking the pool, and quietly sobbed.

‘Why aren’t you here!?’ you pleaded in your mind.  ‘Why did you have to…you idiot!  Why did you have to…why did you have to be so…why did you have to play hero!?’

You wanted to scream.  You wanted to scream louder than your daughter had!  You wanted to scream so loud that your cries could be heard through time and space and maybe reach Eddie, wherever he was now!

But you didn’t.  You kept it in like you always did, instead opting for quiet sobs.

This is how Steve found you not too long after.  He’d managed to feed Edwyn and rock her to sleep.  Now quietly sitting on the couch looking down at the baby but stealing quick glances in your direction.

“You don’t seem fine.”  Steve finally said after a long silence.

“I am…I promise.”  

“Yeah, I don’t buy it.” he motioned with his head for you to come and sit with him on the couch. “Come and talk about it.  It’ll make you feel better.”

You continued to stare toward Steve, whose focus was down toward Edwyn. 

Steve knew you better than anyone else in the group so it was pointless to try and convince him you were okay when you weren’t.  

You slowly made your way over to the couch.  Sitting right beside him and leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder while the two of you looked down at the sleeping baby.

“She put up a pretty big fight right now.  Didn’t want to sleep at all…I think she was worried about you.”

You let out a deep sigh.  Trying your best not to lose your composure again.

“So, wanna tell me why you’re feeling down?”

“Dustin made a comment about how much she looks like...about how much she looks like her father.” 

Everything made sense to Steve in that moment.  

Steve had been there since almost the very beginning of you coming to Hawkins.

He was there to see first hand all the heartache and turmoil you’d gone through at the hands of your abusive step-father and your mother.

He was witness to your relationship with Eddie.  All the highs and lows that came and how much you two really and truly cared for each other.

You had shared everything with him.  All your happiest memories of growing up with a father that loved you dearly and how it all changed when he passed away when you were 12.

How happy you had become after Mrs. Henderson took you in and eventually adopted you.  Giving you the family you had missed so much for so long.

He was there to see first hand how much you loved Eddie and how hard his death affected you.

He knew almost everything about you.  So he knew how deep Dustin’s words would cut you, even if you would try so hard to keep others from seeing it.

He knew.

“I see…It’s okay, you know.”

“What’s okay?”

“It’s okay to let yourself be sad about Eddie.  You don’t have to be strong one hundred percent of the time.  You can let yourself cry.”

You knew Steve was right.  

A lone tear began to fall down your cheek but you quickly brushed it away.  

You brought your hand up to gently brush a few stray hairs on your daughter's forehead before leaning down and giving her a soft kiss. 

“Can I tell you something I haven't told anyone?” you whispered, continuing to brush aside Edwyn’s hair.

“Go ahead.”

“Sometimes I find myself hating him…like, with every fiber of my body.  I just…I just hate him so much.”

Steve turned to look at you. His face showing the slightest amount of confusion. 

“I know…” you continued, “how could I hate him after everything we went through.  After losing him.  How could I bring myself to hate him?  I just do…sometimes I do.  I hate that he did what he did.  I hate that he…that he sacrificed himself for a town full of people that saw him as a monster!

If he could have seen everything they said about him after.  How could he…how could he leave us?”

Your eyes again filled with tears and you could feel a few escape down the side of your face that you again quickly wiped away.

 Steve gently maneuvered Edwyn so she was now resting against his chest, freeing up a hand to reach out and hold the hand that rested on your lap.

“He didn’t do what he did for them.”

You didn’t react or reply. 

“Do you remember when we got pulled into the Upside Down through the lake and had to make our way back? Well, while we were wandering through the woods Eddie confided in me.  You know what he called himself?”

You shook your head.

“He called himself a coward.  Someone who would run at any sign of danger.  It was only in his D&D games that he was the hero.”

You looked over at Steve, not sure where he was going with this story.

“Long story short, it wasn’t until after he found out that you were pregnant that he decided to stop running.  Dustin told me later that the Demo Bats were going to break through the portal in his trailer and no doubt wreak havoc over here in our dimension.  Eddie led them away.  Eddie sacrificed himself to save you and Edwyn.  He didn’t choose to save the world…he chose to save you.  You two were the only ones on his mind, and you two were the last things he was talking about before…”

Steve let his words trail off while the tears began to well up again in your eyes.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked.  Your voice cracking slightly.

“So you know how important you were to him.  So you know how important you are to all of us.  So you can finally grieve.  I know you haven't cried since you found out about him in the hospital.”

“I…I…”

“It’s okay to talk about him.  It’s okay to let yourself cry and I hope you know you don’t have to do it alone…we’re here for you.”

“I know you’re right but…I’m scared…”

“Of what?” he asked, his voice soft and reassuring.

A long silence fell between you while you searched for your words and for the strength to get them out without faltering.

“I’m scared I’ll go back to that place.  That place where I was just…lost.  Where I couldn’t function or even breathe.  That place where I didn’t want to live…even knowing I had a baby…his baby relying on me to survive.  I just…didn’t want to.  I’m scared I’ll go back there. ”

Steve squeezed your hand tighter.

“That’s why you have me…us. That’s why you have us.  You have a whole mess of people who’ll be there for you in a heartbeat.  Be there for Edwyn.”

You finally looked up at him.  His big dark eyes and soft smile helping to lessen the pain you felt growing in your chest.

Again he was right.  

Everyone had been there for you.  At the drop of a hat, if you needed someone they were all there.  Your friends, your new mother and brother, your honorary father in law, all of them.  No questions or hesitations.  

You weren’t alone.

You let out another long sigh that quickly broke into a shaking exhale.  The strength you had to keep all your emotion inside of you finally broke and you began to sob.

Steve let go of your hand and brought it up around your shoulders.  Bringing you in close to him, which you fell into.

There you both sat while you quietly sobbed into the chest of your best friend.  Who held onto your daughter, allowing you to finally feel safe enough to let yourself cry.  Which you did for as long as you needed with no rush.

He was happy to do so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours had passed and so had your needed emotional release.  

Now you both sat quietly in the dimly lit room.  You, now holding your baby while you rested against Steve who had his arm resting along the back of the couch.  Just like the two of you had done so many times before.

You gently massaged the top of your daughter's head thinking about the past couple of years.  

Steve’s words now being the ones repeating in your mind.

His reassurance that it was okay to cry.  That missing Eddie was necessary to fully heal and how they would all be there for you.  How he would be there for you.

Like he always had been.

“Do you remember when I ran away?” you finally whispered, breaking the silence.

“I do…” he replied, just as quietly.

The memory of the few months after Eddie passed came back to the two of you.  How you fell into such a deep depression that you barely ate or slept.  How you neglected taking care of yourself and your unborn baby until you finally just got up and left in the middle of the cold April night.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Where else would you have gone?  I figured you’d want to go to be with Eddie and since the portals to the Upside Down were closed then his memorial on Hopper’s land was the next place you’d be.”

“Do you remember what you did when you found me half frozen to death?”

Steve let out a breathy laugh.

“Yeah…I yelled at you.”

“You were pretty mad.”

“Of course I was!  How did you think I was going to react?  My best friend had been neglecting themselves and their unborn baby for months!  Mrs. Henderson and Dustin had been trying so hard to bring you back and you up and walked out into the freezing night, barefoot and in only a t-shirt and shorts.”

“I’d never seen you that mad before.”

“Sorry about that…”

“Don’t be…it’s what I needed.  You’ve always seemed to know what I needed.”

“Yeah…well.  I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t.” 

“I don’t think I ever thanked you.” 

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“I do…not everyone would yell at me for my own good or go out of their way to take extra care of me after.  Not like you have…so thank you, Steve.�� For everything.”

Steve let out a soft sigh.  He didn’t reply at first and it wasn’t from lack of knowing what to say.  He knew what he wanted to say.  He’d known what he wanted to say to you since you started working with him. Even after all this time, what he wanted to say had never changed but it never felt like the right time.  And here, now, he knew what he wanted to say to you…but again, it didn’t feel like the right time.

“Don’t mention it…” was what he finally let come out.

Good thing you were better at timing than Steve was.

“Um…Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Would it be okay if I have you over for dinner sometime?  I can ask Mrs. Henderson if she’d like to watch her granddaughter so it can be just the two of us, if that’s okay?”

Steve tried to subdue the smile that was forming on his face, taking a minute to pull it back so the emotion wouldn’t sound in his voice.

“I think that would be okay…um, Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

“Just to check…this is a date, right? Are you asking me out on a date?”

Again, another silence fell between you.

“I think I am…is that okay?” You said, leaning your head back so you were able to look up at him.

Steve stared down and took in the view of you and your baby.  Two of the people he cared about the most. 

Steve smiled and leaned down, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah…it’s okay.”

[strangerthingsmademebi]

I’m thinking of writing a series where the MC is best friends with Jonathan and basically part of the Byers family but is also adopted by Hopper . It’s take place in series four but there will be flashbacks to give her backstory and so we can see her relationships with the other characters .Jonathan and her are 100% platonic but MC doesn’t like Nancy and I have already envisioned them having a massive argument .heheheh

But I don’t know who to make the love interest . Thoughts?

[helfireclub]

𝓓𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓓𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓵 {Eddie Munson x FEM OC}

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7| Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 (18+) | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 (18+) | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 (18+)

Chapter: What to do Mr. Munson

'We fucking won!' Lilly yelled.Dustin, Mike, Gareth and Jeff were all staring at each other before they all went berserk and started jumping and screaming together.Lilly got caught in the middle but she didn't mind she joined them.Eddie was smirking while sitting back on his chair.

They all had something to drink and clinked their glasses. Lilly loved being around Dustin and Mike. They were nice and liked all the movies she liked.So they always had something to talk about. Eddie was still smirking at her on the side. And when everything was over and they all cleaned up. Lilly had brought Mike and Dustin home a little bit earlier. Mike needed to get on a flight to California tomorrow morning, and Dustin was on the route. She had promised Eddie to get back to maybe do a joint or have a beer together.

So when she drove back to the parking lot of the school. She saw lots of drunk and hyped people coming back from the gym.'They must have won.' Lilly said while rolling her eyes.

She jumped back through the school doors.When she saw Steve with Brenda giggling through the hallways. Steve saw Lilly and he nodded his head at her.Lilly raised her eyebrow to Steve before walking back to the classroom they just played Hellfire in. The light was off.

'He must have gone to the forest to smoke.' Lilly said to herself.But she still went to check.She opened the door where she found no one it was dark and empty.'Pfff.' Lilly said to herself. She did just in case check some corners and in a closet but he really was gone.

'Ass.' Lilly cursed as she walked out of the classroom. 'Sorry?' Eddie's voice suddenly sounded. He was standing with his back on the lockers and his feet up against it. 'That you're an ass.' Lilly said while closing the door.

'Sadly i'm supposed to do what you're saying tonight.' Eddie said.He put his feet back on the ground and walked over to her while pulling down the sleeves of his leather jacket.'I would have put you in place right here.' He said while standing in front of her. Lilly straightened her back and looked at the tall guy.She locked eye contact.

'I want you to fuck me Eddie.' Lilly said with a straight face.

Eddie's face didn't even change.'where?' He just asked. 'You've been here longer than me.' Lilly said. 'Probably got a lot of places you want to do something.' She told him with a wink.'Okay something i wanted to do for a long time.' Eddie said and he took her arm and pulled him with him. Lilly almost fell to her feet. But she catched herself and ran after Eddie.

'Watchout okay.' Eddie said while putting his finger on his lips.Lilly nodded to him and turned her back to Eddie looking around the hallways. Eddie took a bobby pin out of Lilly's hair to which she grabbed his hand turning around to him.he showed her the bobbypin and folded it out.'Got another one?' Eddie asked her softly. Lilly nodded and pulled another one out of her hair making her sidebang fall forward. She blew it out of her face and gave Eddie the bobbypin.He smirked and took it gratefully.

Lilly turned around again till she heard the door click. 'Got it.' Eddie said softly as he pulled her inside.Lilly felt him pull her around and in just a second. She was inside the classroom.And in another second Eddie had pushed her up against the door.

'God what were you even thinking tonight.' Eddie said as he looked her in her eyes. Eddie had Lilly's arms above her head. 'How can someone get me so fucking crazy.' he continued his sentence.'The fact that you came through that door had me extremely angry and goddamn arroused at the same time.'

'That was the whole idea Eddie.' Lilly suddenly said. As he looked down at her.a smirk on her face biting on her lower lip.

'You know where we are Lilith?' Eddie asked her.before he was starting to kiss the side of her neck. 

'It's dark Eddie i can't see shit.' Lilly said to him.

'Wrong answer.' Eddie said between kisses. To which he suddenly bit her.

Lilly let out a soft moan when he bit her.

Eddie then let go of her and pulled her off the wall.

'Let me explain you what this is.' Eddie said. He put Lilly in front of the desk.And walked to the back of the class and sat down at the table.

'This is the place where I met someone who changed my world.' Eddie started. Lilly looked confused at him.'And this it the place you want to fucking fuck me?' Lilly said sarcasticly. 'I hate the class they teach here.' Eddie started.'This bitch made me fail 3 times.'

To which Lilly started thinking the only class he was failing was English.'She put me alone because of me failing so many times.And wanted to pay closer attention to me.''But then someone was added to our class and that person was put next to me.Wearing a fucking band shirt and listening to the best music.' Eddie said.

'Oh my god we are in Miss O'Donnel's classroom.' Lilly said looking at Eddie in the dark. 'And she was listening to fucking Led Zeppelin.She knew everything she needed to know about it. Hated school, loves good music, smokes weed, gives me a hot shower but also pulls me in a pool like a real bitch.' Eddie ended his story and stood up from his place.'From the moment i laid my eyes on you Lilith.' Eddie said shaking his head.

Lilly's heart was thumping out of control.This was the most romantic thing ever. And it was coming from Eddie the freak Munson.Before Lilly could even think straight she acted.

She pulled off his hellfire shirt and threw it on a table. As she sat on the desk of miss O'Donnell. Eddie stood between her legs putting her head between his hands. 'God I fucking adore you Lilith.' he said before she kissed him.And hard.

He was prepared because he took over dominance between their tongue's in a second and after a few minutes they broke apart. A trail of saliva between them. 'Let's fuck up this desk of hers.' Lilly said with a huge grin on her face.

She pulled Eddie closer to her by his shirt.And he took her chin between his fingers and pulled her face twoards him. Lilly stood her ground and kissed him on the lips. And she couldn't help it but she bit on his lower lip. To which Eddie backed his face away. Licking his lower lip to soothen the bite. 'A biter eh?' He said with a smirk before laying his arm around Lilly's waist and pulling her forward.

So she stood on the floor. He let go of her and leaned against the first table in front of the desk. 'Strip Lilith.' He said while crossing his arms. 'Isn't this my night?' Lilly said while crossing her arms. 'Don't you like it?I thought you like me being in control. So fucking strip.' Eddie said while pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Lilly was going to complain but it was pretty hot.So she did what he asked.

She was already out of her shirt and wearing just her dark blue bra with some lace and a clip on the front. And she kicked off her dr martens. (towards Eddie of course)

and unbuckled her belt and pulling her pants down slowly. When it had fallen to the ground she picked it up and threw it at Eddie. 'Better?' Lilly said laying one of her arms over her stomach.She had matched her underwear with her bra. Which of course meant she had been thinking she would lose some clothes at some point. 'Don't hide from me Princess.You're gorgeous. ' Eddie said as he pushed himself off the table and lost his jackets. He lifted her up in his arms and put her back on the table sitting on the edge.

As he let his hands slide over her arms down to her thighs. His hands were letting off sparks on her skin everytime he touched her.And his cold rings gave her an even weirder sensation. He then sat down on one knee and bit in Lilly's inner thigh. Lilly jumped up but Eddie grabbed her tighs between his arms holding her down. 'Nah-ah Princess.' Was the only thing he said.He was softly biting and kissing her thighs.To which Lilly grabbed the back of the desk. with both her hands.'Eddie..' She brought out.To which Eddie looked up at her. Lilly was whimpering her chest was rising fastly. To which Eddie smirked and went back in, but this time he let one of his hands go and slowly pulled her panty to the side.Exposing Lilly to him.

The cold air was hitting her and she let out a sharp breath. Eddie smirked at her. Before he slowly let his finger slide over her pussy. Lilly softly yelped. 'Oh sweetheart i'm only starting.' Eddie said before he digged in with his tongue. Lilly felt his warm breath on her and then even his tongue. In just a second she let go of the task with one of her hands and it was in Eddie's hair. He groaned when she did that. Which for her made another sensation in her gut.

To which Lilly let out a moan. This time it was a bit louder then it was before.'You know where not alone Sweetheart.' Eddie said before putting his face back.In just a few minutes Lilly was dripping down on Miss O'Donnell's desk.'Cum for me princess.' Eddie said as he latched on her clit and even added a finger.

'Eddie please.' Lilly brought out.'I can't do it silently..' She said in between breaths and moans. 'Good.' Eddie said but he backed off her and stood up so he was on her eye level.Lilly was looking a mess. Her lipstick was smooched and her eyes were half closed.She was panting looking at him. 'God you're so fucking hot Lillith.' He told her as he kissed her hard. She could taste something on him. Probably herself but she took this kiss grate fully.

She added her tongue to Eddie's suprise but he agreed and let her. Lilly was calming down a little from her almost high.A little bit dissapointed he didn't let her scream.But understandable he didn'tThey couldn't get suspended. But boy was she wrong.

When they were kissing he was pulling off the ring on his middle and pointing finger. and slammed them on the desk. To which he pushed them inside of her. Making Lilly jolt up. She broke the kiss.

'what are you doing?' she asked him softly.'You dont think i wont let you cum princess?' Eddie said with his signature grin.As he kissed her again.And started moving his fingers together slowly moving in and out of her. To which Lilly arched her back and let out a soft sound.

'Harder Lillith' Eddie said between their kisses. As he started to move faster and his fingers seperatley.Lilly let out a louder moan and grabbed Eddie's shirt in her hands. 'Almost.' Lilly told him softly.She regretted that she had said that because Eddie pushed his thumb on her clit. Making her fall over the edge she was about to break the kiss from him. But Eddie didn't let her his other hand was sliding up to the back of her head pushing her to him. 'Cum Lilith.' Eddie said lowly before kissing her again.

And she did hard. When she was getting down from her high she opened her eyes finding him smirking at her. 'Was that any good?' He asked.

'Shut up.' Lilly said with a soft smile on her face. she jumped to her feet standing in front of him.'Oh she can stand.' Eddie said.

But Lilly turned around bending over the desk. 'Come on Eddie~ ' Lilly said while looking over her shoulder. 'Are you sure Princess?, you came pretty hard.' Eddie asked her genuinely.'You still need to drive home..' He added. 'Don't be a pussy Eddie.' Lilly said

'I know you want to~' She added. 'Well you started it.' Eddie said as he stood behind her letting his hands slide over her back to the small of her back.She heard him unbuckle his pants and then he bent over her. 'Are you ready Princess?' Eddie asked her whispering in her ear. To which Lilly answered in an 'mmmm~'

And in one swift move Eddie had entered her pussy. To which Lilly bucked up her head moaning.'Ssssh Princess.' Eddie said as he was still bent over her as he bit softly in her ear. Lilly had put her hands to the back on the desk so she had something to hold on to.She felt Eddie speed up his hips.

Eddie raised himself a little sliding his hands from her shoulders to her back. Making Lilly have goosebumps.With one hand he grabbed her hip and the other he spanked her. Making Lilly moan out gripping the desk tighter.

'Eddiee.' She brought out whining. 'You're doing great Princess.' Eddie said in between his thrusts.He sped himself up a little but he pushed her hips down a little so he was a bit higher up making him slam even harder into her. Making Lilly in a softly moaning mess. Lilly felt herself weaken in her knees. But she kept herself standing up. She felt fucking great.

'Oh god Lilith.' Eddie brought out he threw his head back.She could feel his thrusts get sloppy. Which could only mean one thing. She felt the big knot in her stomach grow bigger and bigger with each thrust and she came hard again.

Lilly bit down on her hand so she wouldn't moan that loud. 'I didn't say you could come yet Princess.' Eddie said. 'But my knees.' Lilly admitted before Eddie pulled out and wanted to support her.'Hey are you okay?' Eddie asked. But Lilly had other plans. She turned herself around before Eddie could reach her and pushed him to the table behind them.

she crawled towards him and let in swift move she was sitting in front of him.'Let me make you cum now~ ' Lilly said with a wink before she took him in her hand. Slowly pumping up and down. She knew Eddie was almost there by the hiss he let out when she touched him. Lily was fast as she sped up her pumping making him let out a groan. 'I didn't know you did this Lilith' Eddie said. 'Shut up you.' Lilly said before she licked the tip.Making him grab her hair. Lilly let her tongue roll over the length of his dick.

'Fuck Lillith.' She could feel him twitch and she didn't hestitate. Lilly took him in her mouth and bopped her head up and down. 'Fuu....ckk.' Eddie brought out before grabbing her hair with both his hands. 'Princess i'm gonna...' Eddie brought out before he actually came. Lilly took him down completely making him shoot his load in the back of her throat. She softly sucked on him before slowly pulling herself back. And when she let go she swallowed. Looking at him with a smirk.

He let go of her hair and rested his hands on the table behind him. Lilly licked her bottom lip looking at him.'For fucks sake Lillith you make me fall for you even more.' Eddie said with a smirk as he dressed himself again.

He helped her to her feet and put her clothes back on. They did however switch shirts. Because Eddie needed his Hellfire shirt back.She was wearing his long sleeve shirt. she tucked it in her pants.

'Are you okay to drive home?' Eddie asked her after they both came back to their senses. 'I'm fine Eddie.' Lilly said with a smile as they had locked the classroom and ran back to the front of the school. Eddie had walked her back to her car.

Lilly had opened the door but Eddie pushed it back. Turning her around putting his hands on her hips.

'Elizabeth Johnson.' He said looking in her eyes. To which Lilly looked up at him.

He had never used her full name. 'I know we hardly know eachother but god you have me in the palm of your hand' He said grabbing her hand.

'I'd like to know if you would want to see some more of me.' He said as he looked in Lilly's eyes. 'What do you even mean Eddie?' Lilly said smiling at him.'God Eddie you're the only thing i think about.' Lilly said smiling at him pulling him in for a kiss. she pulled her arms around his neck and he snaked his hands around her waist pushing her against the car. They broke the kiss. 'God Eddie please, you fucked me just ten minutes ago.' Lilly said with a smirk pushing him off her.

she opened the door and stepped in the car. 'But what does this even mean now..' Eddie asked a little confused.Lilly smirked and chuckled at him being confused.

'Just meet me tonight after your whole job aka drug deal thing.' Lilly said when she started the car. 'You can come up with the drainpipe right?' She said a huge grin on her face before backing up the car and winking at him before driving away. To which Eddie shook his head. How can someone make him feel like that. But god did he like her.

[ghost-proofbaby]

the hat rule. (e.m. x fem!reader)

the hat rule (n.): you wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.

summary: when eddie dresses up as a cowboy to a night out with friends, you decide to steal his hat.

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: reader is described to be wearing a dress. reader is also dressed up as a black cat. premise is everyone is wearing 'slutty' costumes. overuse of pet names. public teasing, unprotected sex, choking kink, oral (f receiving), ass slapping. 18+.

wc: 13.3k+

happy early valentine's day, babes. shout out to @hellfire--cult for beta reading, as well as @andvys for giving me this idea to begin with.

If someone had told you last week that you’d be attending a slutty costume themed night at a club tonight, you would have laughed in their face.

And yet here you were, at Steve Harrington’s apartment, donned in a black cat costume that shows more skin than you have in years.

The elaborate plan had sparked on a random day after Steve encountered a flyer for the event. It was a nightclub your group had attended before, and one look at the line free drinks for participants had Steve running down your entire group to insist that you all needed to dress up, to participate in this, for the luxury of free Tito’s. 

He’d never considered that the ad might not be targeted towards the male population. And now, you were all gathering at his apartment to pregame, ‘slutted out’ as Robin had so kindly put it – men included.

Nancy pulled out some sort of angel costume she claims she had bought but certainly not worn a few years back, Robin had conglomerated an alluring pirate attire from items you hadn’t even been aware were in her closet. Jonathan arrived in his erotic yet pensive writer’s costume (you’d hardly understood it, but he seemed confident, so you all went with it), Argyle in tow donning some sort of seductive surfer costume, in which you certainly recognized the unbuttoned shirt and cargo shorts that had had a pocket knife taken to them to disregard a few inches. Steve even stuck to his own demands, going all out – a sensual bunny costume.

And then, there was Eddie.

Eddie fuckin’ Munson. 

“Pick your jaw up off the ground, sweetheart,” he teases as he shuffles around you in the kitchen to grab a drink, “Gonna start catching flies otherwise.” 

“There’s a joke in there somewhere about how sweet I am, right?” you blandly reply, keeping your eyes on your room temp cocktail that Steve had so graciously mixed for you upon your arrival, “Something where you call me honey or sugar, yeah?” 

Eddie pauses, bottle of vodka in hand, looking at you with big eyes lined in coal, “Oh, baby, you know me so well.” 

“Cut the pet names, Munson.”

You try to scowl. You really do. But you don’t mean a damn word you say. 

Sweetheart. Baby. Hell, even honey would have done it for you when he was wearing that costume. 

Tight leather pants, flared at the ankle. Worn leather boots that certainly had to have been thrifted, clicking with each of his steps. A cow print vest, and just a vest, over what looked to be an oiled chest. 

And that fucking hat smashing down his curls, adding a shadow across his face that only built into the illusion. 

You hate him. You hate this stupid party. You hate Steve for ever suggesting this. 

“You don’t mean that,” he sing-songs as he pours his own drink into a red solo cup. The vodka mixes with cranberry juice, you think, before he’s dropping a few ice cubes out of the freezer. “Or maybe you do, and I should try saying them with a southern drawl,” Fuck, he does a good southern accent. Slow and syrupy sweet, molasses down the throat as he flutters his lashes at you, “That better, darlin’?” 

You pluck the thin black straw that had been added to your cup for flare, probably stolen from a hotel at some point by Steve and positively meant for drinks of the coffee variety, and flick it in his direction without hesitation. 

“Terrible,” you flatly lie, “Cowboys aren’t even from the south, idiot. They’re from the West.” 

You have no desire to hear Eddie’s Western accent. No desire to hear Texan twang on those lips, putting on his best John Wayne impression. In fact, the faster you can get away from him, the quicker you can get yourself under control. 

It had always been this way between you and Eddie. Push and pull. Will they, won’t they. A game of cosmic shores as the two of you toed at each other’s orbits and bantered effortlessly. Flirtatious threats, inappropriate compliments, lewd innuendos – you had done it all, specifically with Eddie.

That’s just how the friendship worked. 

The friendship. 

Friend. Nothing more, nothing less. 

Eddie won’t leave you alone, though, choosing to lean up against the counter beside you, forcing his way into your peripherals, “Damn. You’re right. Wayne would kill me if he knew I mixed that up.” 

“Oh, I think he has plenty of reasons to knock some sense into you.” 

“Yeah?” he leans forward, tauntingly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, “Why don’t you do it for him? I think I’d like a slap more coming from you, honestly.”

He’s acting like he always does. This is normal. The fact that his entire torso is on show and you can’t stop staring at the way his tattoo on his peck is shimmering doesn’t change that. 

You play the role, knowing your part well as you lean in as well, forcing a smile right back at him, “Wanna kiss my knuckles before I do it, or am I gonna have to do all the hard work here?” 

“Oh, trust me, you’d never have to do all the work with me, ba-”

“Can you two get a fucking room?” Robin interrupts as she enters the room, clearly coming in for a refill but getting more than she bargained for. 

You’re aflame with the shame and embarrassment, feeling it lick from your ankles up to your throat, as Eddie only chuckles lowly. 

“Sorry, Robs,” Eddie chirps, not sounding apologetic at all, “I promise I’ll behave myself the rest of the night.” 

And yet, despite the words you’re hearing him say out loud, he does the exact opposite. 

There’s no real need for him to do it. There’s plenty of space amongst the kitchen for him to maneuver his way out without laying a single hand on you – and yet he still fucking does. 

His palm is shockingly warm when it curls around your hip, his other hand occupied with a drink, encouraging you to move a step forward so that he can brush behind you far too close for comfort. You nearly stumble over himself as he does it. The feeling of his barren chest barely bumping your bare shoulder blades sends your mind reeling, and his staple rings that have incorporated into his costume press right through the thin fabric of your dress.

Your breathing stops entirely as he pauses, the slightest bit of skin still brushing against yours, and leans in with a boyish grin, “We’ll both be on our best behavior tonight – right, kitty?” 

Something clicks in your mind. The way the nickname rolls off his tongue as he’s looking at you with eyes flaming with mischief, hand lingering on your hip for far too long. 

Your eyes flicker up to the hat on his head, and you smile slowly, meeting his toying gaze, “Right, cowboy.”

Best behavior, your ass. Tonight, you have decided, ends the will they, won’t they of it all. 

It’s about to either be the best night of your life, or the worst. 

—

Another shot with Nancy. Another smoke with Argyle. Another adjusting of Steve’s corset when he complains he can’t breathe (he certainly can, but you’re starting to think he just likes the attention). The pregaming continues on as more of Steve’s friends from work show up, the apartment slowly beginning to buzz with the chatter of more strangers than you can count on one hand.

You’re not even at the club yet and you’re already regretting your revealing attire.

Eddie stays mostly preoccupied with his own devices, and only gets scolded a handful of times by Nancy. You can hear every lewd joke he makes, of course. At some point, you make a private drinking game out of it; a sip for every time he makes the stereotypical joke of ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’. 

Well, it was a sip the first time. A slightly larger gulp the second time. A chugging of half your drink the third time. 

“There’s no fucking way,” Steve laments at the table the boys as well as a few guests you don’t recognize have taken over for a game of strip poker, “Jonathan is cheating. Or counting cards.”

“I concur,” Eddie mutters around his cigarette, scowling at his losing hand. 

“You’re also cheating, asshole. This is the first round you’ve lost the entire game.”

“Or maybe I’m just really good at cards, Harrington.” 

“Oh, yeah? Well, maybe I’m really good at-”

“He’s not cheating,” Nancy interrupts with a sigh from the couch, lounging as she’s served as a referee of sorts for the group. Her entire body weight is draped against Robin, and you’re certainly not going to comment on Robin’s hands toying with her permed locks, “Stop being a sore loser and just strip.” 

You get why Steve was the most upset. He was down to his underwear and socks, corset tossed somewhere far behind him and bunny ears placed on Robin’s head in place of her pirate hat that she had claimed became too warm. 

“I think Steve should trade both socks and put back on the bunny ears,” she quips as she reaches up for the headband, flicking at one of the floppy ears, “He’d look cuter that way.” 

“Fuck off,” he snaps, throwing up a middle finger as Argyle finally loses his shirt. 

When your attention has drifted, you know he did exactly that, though. 

The game had been boring you half to death, honestly. Watching Steve strip without fail every round, hearing the loud cheers from Argyle when he managed to win a few rounds in a row and exclaimed it was a turkey (it had taken a ten minute intermission to explain to him that was bowling, not poker), watching a few of the girls that Steve had invited fawn over him as they carefully removed boots and gloves when they lost – none of it sparked your interest. The only saving grace had been every smug look Eddie offered as he’d win, time and time again. So far, he’d only lost his boots. 

He was hot when he was cocky. There was no way around it.

And now, as he carefully pondered as to which part of his precious costume to part with, you were on the edge of your seat. He was lovely and enticing when he was excited, when he was jubilant with victory, but as a sore loser? 

Dear God, Eddie Munson was a gorgeous specimen with a pout on his lips. 

“Trying to decide what to take off, Munson?” Jonathan notices the way Eddie is hesitating, even through the offset of conversations that had sparked up in the brief pause amongst the growing group.

You lean forward on the couch, almost subconsciously. 

You don’t care what Stacy from Steve’s job thinks of their manager or the latest drama ongoing there, and Steve would probably agree with you if it weren’t for Stacy’s all-red, latex Devil costume.

Eddie scoffs, waving a hand over his attire, “Obviously. You know, it’s not easy to choose when you have a costume as damn good as mine.” 

“What? Don’t think you’ll be as pretty without your hat?” you decide to contribute to the teasing, shocking yourself in the process. 

The last thing you should do when you’re staring him down in this way, is bring attention to yourself. And yet you were, like some fucking idiot with a death wish. 

“You think I’m pretty?”

It’s the fluttering of his lashes as he says it that gives you the courage. They match all that fluttering in your stomach, all that buzzing across your nerves. Because – yeah, you thought he was real fucking pretty. You’d spent the last half hour imagining how pretty he’d look in all sorts of places, too, especially between your sheets and between your thighs. 

You’re up off the couch, taking confident steps towards where he’s seated at the ground on the other side of the coffee table. It’s a little inconvenient now, but it had been a blessing in disguise for most of the game as you’d had a front row seat to the sight of him. 

“Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease, entirely ignoring that lightheaded feeling you get anytime Eddie looks up at you this way. Half-lidded eyes, crooked grin. He’s dangerous and he doesn’t even know it, “I only meant you were pretty with the hat.” 

“You wound me,” he gasps, dropping back on his hands dramatically, his pout now for dramatics rather than genuine, “Gonna stand there and tell me I’m not pretty when I dressed up just for you?”

You have to take a deep breath to compose yourself, cross your arms to steady your guard, “Just for me?” 

He was playing that same old, tired game of yours. The same dance the two of you had memorized the steps to – and something inside of you has grown restless of it. You don’t want to keep skirting around each other with double-meaning jokes, you don’t want to keep painting humor over your flirtatious remarks. You want a damn answer to the age old question of will they, won’t they?

And you want that answer to be will they – terribly, terribly so.

His eyes trail along the room slowly, not avoiding you but trying to draw out the anticipation in you as he sucks in a breath, “Okay, and maybe for Steve. And Nancy. And Argyle. And Jonathan. And- Well, I’d say Robin, but I don’t think she’s looked twice in my direction all night.” 

“I haven’t,” the brunette chirps happily from the couch, still letting the weight of Nancy comfortably dig into her. 

You have no idea how she’s tuned into the conversation, given the way most of everyone else around the room was entirely ignoring the two of you. 

“So,” you all but purr, leaning down to be more level with Eddie. You already know where his focus wanders when his eyes don’t meet yours, “Not just for me, cowboy.” 

He’s distracted, staring at your chest as you notice him slip up in his brave facade for a second. Almost as though you’ve gone too far, pushed the limits a bit too hard. Good. You want to break this. You want to shatter whatever cage the two of you have built.

In one smooth movement, your hand reaches out and snatches the hat right off his head. 

He lets out a yelp and tries to grab it away from you, but you have the advantage as you stand up straight once more. Your free hand reaches up and tears off the cat ears you had donned, and in their place, the hat is deposited. 

It fits you a little big, and you nearly make a joke about the size of Eddie’s head. 

“Hey!” he argues, moving as though he might stand up and put up more of a fight, “I didn’t say the hat is what I wanted to take off.” 

“Took too long,” you shrug innocently. 

“Yeah, well, just carefully add it to the pile,” he jabs his thumb over his shoulder, towards his boots, as he relaxes back into his recline.

You should probably behave yourself. 

“No.”

But this is more fun. 

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in shot, disappearing behind the bangs that are flattened far more than usual. The entire crown of his head is absolutely crushed. No sign of his usual frizzy roots and unruly volume, “No?”

“No,” you confirm a second time. 

And you’re done with this game of back and forth. 

The hat’s staying on your head. It smells ever so faintly of his shampoo, the slightest whiff of his cologne even, and it’s staying on your head for the exact reason he believes is about to be a gotcha! moment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he’s just tipsy enough that he’s not putting on any specific accent. Instead, his natural Appalachian accent inherited from his uncle begins to break the surface, “Surely you know about the hat rule.” 

Damn right, you know about the hat rule.

You cross your arms, huff a little, tilt the hat for effect, “The hat rule? Please, enlighten me.” 

“You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.” 

Perfect. 

You don’t even attempt any sort of surprised act. No exaggerated gasps, no fumbling to remove the hat. You knew all about this rule, and it had been one of the first things to come to mind when you’d seen him enter this damn party with the hat on. 

“Yeah?” you question, mocking raising your eyebrows at best, “Hm. What a shame.”

And then you turn on your heel, not awaiting a single response from Eddie as you escape to the kitchen.

You almost wish you would have stayed an extra second to properly witness his reaction. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s gone pretty and pink, a flustered mess for at least a second as low laughter sounds from the rest of your friends. A tell-tale snort from Robin, and a silent cackle from Nancy. You swear you even pick up on one of the extra guests muttering a confused what just happened? that goes entirely unanswered.

Strip poker doesn’t continue on for long after that.

You refill your drink, this time sans the alcohol, and return to find Steve has officially begun to call for cabs to the club. He busies away on his phone as everyone debates who’s riding with who, the entire party slowly coming to life as everyone stands to prepare to leave for the main attraction. 

When you meet Eddie’s gaze from across the room, the shadow of the brim of his hat cutting into your vision a little, his cheeks match the cranberry juice in your cup. 

Good. 

—

The ride to the club is a blur, and all that really stands out to you is that Eddie makes sure he does not ride in the same cab as you.

Which is fine. Really. It doesn’t cause a single spark of panic in your chest. Not one. 

You’re definitely not working yourself up over the thought that your plan is crumbling right before your eyes, that you’ve gone too far and entirely misinterpreted everything Eddie has ever done during your entire friendship. You’re not mulling over every dirty joke, not dissecting every single line that felt like he was flirting with you and attempting to look at it with fresh eyes. No, the entire ride to the club, you are definitely not beating a dead horse dead. 

Maybe you should have set off to ride the dead horse and not the cowboy. Maybe, then, Eddie would have gotten into the fucking cab with you. 

Your anxieties only worsen once you get inside the club. Pulsing beneath your skin, right in rhythm with the music. Your entire group had each been handed a drink ticket on your way in, and you had noted the fact that the girls of the group were slipped extra tickets. 

Nancy had given all her tickets to Robin, and Steve had given his singular ticket to Stacy. 

“So,” Robin runs up to your side, Nancy not far behind, “Do we waste our drink tickets on shots or real drinks?” 

“Real drinks,” you immediately reply, eyes scanning the bouncing crowd for a certain head of curly hair, “Shots are… well, they can be cheap. We can just avoid the top-shelf shit.”

Was Eddie really going to ignore you the entire night? 

He needed his hat. He couldn’t ignore you the entire night. 

“You’re right,” Robin shuffles the drink tickets in her hands, turning to Nancy, “On a scale of one to ten, how bad would it be me to ask you to flirt with men to get me-”

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll have us a round.” 

Nancy’s smile is sweet, courteous, as she gives Robin’s shoulder a squeeze on her way past her. 

Where the fuck is Eddie? 

“Did you see where the guys ran off to?” you blurt out. Most of the guys, aside from Steve, took the same cab. 

Robin also joins you in a quick survey of the club, lifting onto her tippy toes to squint over the current light show, “Honestly? I have no idea.” 

Fuck. 

As she drops back down onto her heels, Robin looks at you knowingly, eyes flicking up between your twisted expression and the hat on your head. 

“Trying to find a certain cowboy?” 

“What?” you look at her, already defensive, even if it was stupid at this point. Who cares if everyone knows you have a crush on Eddie? Who cares if everyone finds out the very foundations of your friendship with him were built upon quite a bit of truth? “I mean- yeah, he kind of needs his hat to complete his outfit.” 

“Should have just given him your ears for an even trade,” Robin shrugs, clinging to your elbow to avoid getting separated as a few bodies push past the two of you, “I’m sure he’ll pop up soon enough, though. Besides, I don’t think anyone’s too focused on what everyone’s costumes are as long as they’re… well…”

“Slutted out,” you finish for her flatly, trying to not get jealous as your eyes look across the sweaty crowd, stomach churning as you wonder how many other sexy black cats in the crowd would be approaching your cowboy. 

You fucked up. You shouldn’t have taken his hat. 

“Exactly!” she’s excited, unaware of your crisis, already moving along from the topic as she spots Nancy somewhere near the bar top, “Look, free shots!” 

The free shots don’t do much to quell your unease, but free alcohol is always nice.

You take the liquid down, burn and all, more than willingly. And then again, not even five minutes later when Nancy has caught the attention of another random man at the end of the bar. You almost partake in a third, but you finally hear a familiar voice saying a far too familiar joke. 

“You know what they say,” he’s flirting – he’s using a tone of voice that he has never used with you, and it’s clear he’s fucking flirting, “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.” 

Instead of continuing your drinking game from Steve’s apartment, you slam the shot back down and mutter some sorry excuse of being right back to Robin and Nancy before taking off in the direction of Eddie.

He’s stood a few stools down at the bar, hands leaning against the worn wood as his arms bracket a pretty blonde. It almost looks as if the line might be working on her. 

“If you’re a cowboy,” she giggles, and you almost stop dead in your tracks, “Then where’s your hat?” 

Well, that’s as good of a queue for your arrival if any. 

“Good question,” you pipe up as you take a few brave steps towards him, “Where is your hat, cowboy?” 

You’d expected him to be angry, or startled, or possibly even immediately take off running in the opposite direction of you. He doesn’t. 

He slowly turns, and his flirtatious smile has turned into more of a salacious grin as he faces you, “Well, well, well. Nice of you to join us, Kitty.” 

The blonde looks between you two a few times before shimmying down off her stool, “I think…. I’m gonna go. Nice to meet you, cowboy.”

You expect Eddie to react, but he hardly does. A quick glance in her direction, a pathetic wave. 

You’ve just trampled over one of his chances of getting properly lucky tonight, and he isn’t even phased. 

“Been lookin’ for you,” you mumble, looking over him. His hair seems to have been unstuck from his scalp a little, at least. As though he may have been running his hands through it repeatedly, “Thought you might have gone home without your hat.” 

“Not a chance. I haven’t forgotten about the rule, you know.” 

Something twists in you, deep in your gut, between your hips. 

“No?” you hold your breath as he leans in a bit closer to you to be able to hear over the music, “Good thing I haven’t either.” 

He tilts his head, eyes glittering in the multi-colored lights, “You haven’t? Then that means you’ll be giving it back, right?” 

Over my dead body. 

You’re on a mission tonight. You’ll either be ending this night in sore disappointment, drinking away your sorrows of rejection, or you’ll be ending up in a bed with Eddie. It’s up to him. 

You lift a hand to the worn rim, tugging it a bit more securely onto your head, “Not a chance, Munson. You know where to find me once you’re done playing around.”

As soon as your fingers leave the rim, holding tense eye contact with him, his own hand is coming up. You tense, worried he’s about to steal the hat back now, but he doesn’t. Instead, his fingers pinch the same spot yours just had, slow tracing over the rim as his tongue darts out to carefully wet his bottom lip. 

From the front point, around to the side. When he reaches the bit above your ear, his touch drops to your cheek and tucks back some of the baby hairs sticking to your skin with sweat. 

“I do, don’t I?” he hums, voice dropping a bit lower, focused entirely on you. “I don’t think I’m the one playing around right now, though, Kitty.” 

Does he think you’re joking? Does he actually, genuinely think this is all a game to you? 

You nearly make the decision to grab him right there, right at this moment, and shatter all the tension. Get his lips on yours and drag him into the darkest corner just to prove to him how serious you truly were. 

Suddenly, his hand drops away from you entirely, and you almost want to whine. You miss that warmth, that feathery caress, until it aches. “It’s okay, though. Always knew cats were playful things.” 

Is there a dark corner somewhere near you two? Is there a dark hallway to drag him into? Just enough shadow to cover all the sins you’re desperate to commit, just enough light to see that blush rise across his cheeks again. 

“I’m not playing,” you whisper, eyes drifting down to his hand cradling a glass. Something deep and russet, just like his eyes. Likely whiskey. You wonder if you’d be able to taste it all over his tongue before you had him putting it to work where you need him most right now. “Whenever you get that through your big head, come find me.” 

“Big head?” he throws his head back in a laugh, and the tension mists away in seconds. “Who says I have a big head?” 

“I do, as the one wearing your hat,” you readjust it for emphasis. 

You thought the tension had misted away until he’s smirking, tsking a little, “Oh, thought you meant the other one.” 

It’s a replay of the scene in Steve’s apartment, but this time, the roles are reversed. You’re the one left in shock, mouth agape, as Eddie spins around and walks away, leaving you to sit with what he’s just said. 

“Bastard,” you breathe out as you watch him disappear in the crowd, eyes locked on his broad shoulders until one too many bodies separate the two of you. 

A bastard you want awfully, terribly, bad. 

—

You wish you could say you threw back drink, after drink, after drink. You wish you could say you danced with a hundred different beautiful strangers, and each one strayed your mind farther from Eddie. 

You wish you could say you did anything but what the reality of your night had been.

A few men had approached you, only to be turned down repeatedly. Most of your night was spent all but moping at the bar, eyes diligently scanning the bouncing crowd for a certain curly haired figure that seemed to escape you. One moment, you’d catch him pressed against a flirty stranger, hands holding onto whatever bare skin was available to him. And then, his eyes would find yours, and there would be a spark; a wink, a smile, a whisper across a bustling room daring you to come out and play with him. 

You never did. You’d look away, take a sip of your plain coke, and wait a few seconds until it was safe to look back and find him seemingly vanished. 

That in itself had started to become a game. Just like the hat, weighing heavy on your head. 

You’re starting to accept that maybe you had just been a bit too brave. You’d jumped the gun, flown feet first into cold and ragged waters you weren’t prepared to navigate. You knew you wanted a change with Eddie, but were you ready? If you had been, you would have accepted one of his various invites. Would have strode across the room, shoved away whatever man or woman he was dancing with, and slotted yourself into their place. You would have been swaying your hips in rhythm with his rather than allowing him to cycle through strangers, and you’d be reminding him that you wore his hat. 

You’d be the one bringing up the hat rule to him consistently, not him to you. 

When the night begins to wane, you’ve already talked yourself out of it all. 

“I’m heading out,” you announce to Robin when she finally returns back to where you’ve sat at the bar to babysit their drinks, hopping down from the stool before she could argue, “I’m getting way too tired.” 

“What?” your friend gasps, face pink from the heat of being in the crowd, a shimmering sheen of sweat across her forehead, “No! Stay! We can take turns watching the drinks, or just-”

“Robs,” you smile as sweetly as possible, patting yourself down to make sure you have all your belongings. A whistle sounds from a group down the way at the bar, and you ignore them, “It’s seriously okay. You’re having fun! I’m just a senior citizen who needs some sleep. My bedtime was like…. An hour ago.” 

You highly doubt you’ll be getting any rest when you return to your apartment. Maybe some confidence can be built out of fantasies, letting your hands wander and sheets catch fire with all that could have been if you hadn’t talked yourself out of your perfect plan. 

Maybe, imagining Eddie’s hot hands on you rather than getting to properly feel them will light a damn fire under your ass for the next opportunity that arises. 

“I…” she sighs, glancing over her shoulder in the general direction of Nancy, “Okay, fine. But do we want to do brunch or something tomorrow?” 

Not a chance, you think rather quickly, eyes scanning once more for the metal-head-turned-cowboy. Not if Eddie’s going to be there.

“Sure,” you lie, already knowing he will be there, “Just text me.” 

With that, you make your grand escape. 

Borrowed hat on head, phone in hand, you push your way out of the club with a newfound determination. You want to get home and take off this uncomfortable dress, finally do away with the thigh highs that have been rolling down at the most inconvenient of times, driving you insane the entire night. Trade the sexy attire for something comfy – stay true to the cat essence as you curl up beneath your blankets for the night. Hang that damn cowboy hat on your door as a cursed reminder-

“Where do you think you’re going, Kitty?” 

You stop a few feet short of the curb, a cab ordered as you turn to find that bastard leaning against the wall. Cigarette smoke is still clinging to the air around him as he looks at you curiously. 

“Home,” you shrug, trying to ignore your pounding heart. You’d figured you wouldn’t see him again tonight, that your fate had been sealed. “What are you doing out here?” 

“Smoke break,” he lifts his hand with the cigarette pinched between two fingers casually, pushing off the wall to come closer, “It’s hard work, keeping you entertained all night.” 

You scoff, falling back into what’s almost a normal rhythm for you two, “You were not the one keeping me entertained all night.” 

“I hardly saw you dance with anyone at all.” 

“I did!” you try to defend yourself, deciding this could be fine. Some casual conversation as you wait for your ride, a way to pass the time. This is fine. “Robin dragged me out into the crowd at least twice.” 

“I watched you swat a guy’s hands away not once, but three times.” 

“Unsolicited touching isn’t a compliment. He should have taken the hint the first time.” 

Eddie nods in eager agreement, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Damn right. If he had gone in for a fourth try, I was considering dragging him out here for an early smoke break.” 

“Why do I highly doubt it would just be a smoke break?” you question, glancing at him with a smile. Scandalous plans aside for the night, embarrassment swallowed down whole, it’s nice to remember that Eddie is a friend. Albeit a bit flirty, and capable of driving you fucking insane, but he’s a friend.

And maybe that isn’t the worst thing in the world. 

“Oh, no, yeah. You’d be posting my bail.”

“Why me?”

“Because you’ve got my hat, ” he reaches out and flicks the brim with his free hand, and you freeze up a little. You had hoped he wouldn’t mention it again, “Kind of makes me your problem until the end of the night. Speaking of….” 

You already know what he’s about to request as he trails off. This is it. You either give up the bit, hand the hat back over, and go home for the night – or you make one final attempt to get what you had wanted.

Eddie. You wanted Eddie, as more than a friend. 

“I’m gonna need that back, sweetheart.”

At least he’s asking politely, you consider, before it hits you why he’s asking rather than taking. 

The looks across the room. The way he’d been unbothered by the girl he’d been flirting with running off at your appearance. The way he never just took back that fucking hat when he’d been provided ample opportunity. 

He thinks it’s a game for you, and keeps bringing it up, because it isn’t for him. He’s giving you one last chance to back out, or to stand your ground. To say you really want this. 

And fuck, you really want this. 

“Nope,” you lean into his space, pressing closer, fully committed. Your phone dings with the notification of your ride approaching, and you fully ignore it. “My hat now, cowboy.” 

He quirks an eyebrow, and you hear the crunch of gravel behind you. Your ride. “Is that so?” 

“Yep.”

Another ding, another buzz of your phone.

Go ahead. Bring up the hat rule. 

“That your ride?” he asks, tilting his chin in the direction of the car. 

You glance over your shoulder, “Pretty sure it is, yeah.” 

“And you remember the hat rule?” 

Your stomach twists with excitement. Your previous pity party is long forgotten – you’re still hoping to get out of this dress, but you highly doubt you’ll be slipping anything on after it. “I do.”

“Great,” those hot hands you’d been fantasizing about the entire night suddenly reach out to you, gripping your hips tightly as he tugs you into his body. You collide with his chest as he leans down and whispers in your ear, “In that case, that’s my pussy now.” 

His lips linger against the shell of your ear an extra second, warm breath sending chills up your spine before he’s keeping an arm around your shoulders as he guides you to the car. His cologne and the scent of tobacco is suffocating, and you crave to drown in it. You want him to consume you; you want him to take over every breath you breathe, every move you make, to finally get those hot hands and lips everywhere you’ve only dreamt of. 

You barely hear him confirm with the driver that it is in fact your ride – you can only focus on that hand on your lower back, palm heavy on you as his thumb traces arcs that nearly spend you spiraling. 

“After you, kitty,” he murmurs, motioning for you to slide into the backseat first. 

In that case, that’s my pussy now.

You hope he ruins you. 

In the backseat of the ride, it’s all polite distance and hands to yourself. You can’t even make eye contact with the driver, terrified he might be able to mindread and see all the filthy thoughts racing through your head. 

Eddie between your thighs, mouthing at your hips. 

Eddie hovering over you, pulling your knees to your chest as he stretches you out. 

Eddie, proving that your pussy is in fact his for the night. That it was made for him, sculpted out to fit the curvature and every single vein of him. 

Eddie simply fucking your brains out. 

Some polite conversation is exchanged, mostly between Eddie and the driver. The classic questioning of how the night has gone, small talk that buzzes in your ears mindlessly. 

The entire time, you can see Eddie’s hand in the space between you two, fingers tapping away at dark leather incessantly. His rings shimmer like a siren calling to you. 

It’s a small movement, when your own hand drops near his. You keep your eyes trained forward once you begin your mission, inching your pinky closer and closer until it finally collides with his. You swear, you feel him fully jump out of his seat. 

Slowly warming the water, you start off simple – playing with his fingers. Gentle caresses over his knuckles, little pricks to the pads of his fingers. He tries to capture your hand in his, but you have bigger plans at play here. 

You’ve spent the entire fucking night waiting for this. You’re going to have fun with it. 

He huffs after you deter his second attempt at properly holding hands, his knees falling apart a little further. You twist at the ring on his middle finger, a clunky skull you’ve always admired. It has minimal signs of wear, probably pure silver if you had to guess, and you can only imagine how cold it’s going to feel against your skin. 

You can only imagine the imprints it’ll leave if he grabs your hips just right. 

“You know,” the driver hums mindlessly over the low volume of the radio, “You guys are my first ride of the night, surprisingly. Thought it might be busier with all the parties and clubs, but I think it’s just barely picking up now.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks politely, nodding as he looks out his window. Perfect, “I think you’re right. It is getting pretty late-”

He’s entirely distracted, your hand out of his line of sight as it moves in on its target. 

His thigh. 

Just a few inches above his knee, your hand grips at what is clearly sensitive flesh. You watch his entire body turn to stone when you do it, and he moves his head quickly to look in your direction. 

You’re looking straight ahead. 

There had been a time, a few weeks ago, where you’d learned Eddie had… sensitive knees. You’d been joking around about one thing or another, and when your palms had gripped at them through the torn fabric of ripped jeans, he’d nearly launched himself across the room. He just kept insisting they were ticklish, that that skin was just delicate.

You’d seen the tent in his jeans then. You’d just been a bit more polite, a bit better behaved that day. 

“What are you doing?” he hisses in a whisper, reaching for your hand, but you’re quick to slide it even higher. 

His hips jump a little, and the driver is none the wiser. 

“Nothing,” you innocently say, still looking ahead, watching the passing streetlights with intense interest. “Absolutely nothing at all.” 

The entire ride, at every red light, your hand inches higher. 

And every time, you relish the way he squirms in your peripherals.

By the time you’re five minutes out from your place, you’ve riled him up to impossible heights. Every little noise has him on edge, constant twitching and shifting in his seat as he tries to get you to just look at him. You know he’s catching every sly smile that attempts to creep up on your lips – you’re pathetically failing at every turn to cover them up. 

You think you have him like putty in your palms as you give yet another squeeze to his thigh, fingers starting to dance up even higher. When your eyes flicker to his crotch for just a second, you see him straining against that tight leather. 

And then he flips the script. 

You’re so focused on your own goals, you never see that ringed hand creep to your own thigh. It’s not until cool metal nips at you, briefly, before you feel the warmth of his hand overtake, that you realize the predicament you’ve gotten into. 

Just as your hand was beginning to skim over his crotch, Eddie’s hand found solace between the meat of your thighs. Even as you try to clench them together, deny him the access he was seeking out, he finds his way in. Scandalous fingers dipping under the hem of your dress, fighting fire with fire when he lets his middle finger brush across the fabric of your underwear. 

Your touch from him nearly retracts entirely. 

“What?” he leans in closer to you, the driver still focused on the road, “Don’t like a taste of your own medicine?”

As he says it, his fingers dip lower. Hovering right over your protected clit, making your entire abdomen clench. 

You swallow hard, a bit of your jagged pride somewhere amongst the spit as you turn your head to look at him, “I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Still playing games I see.” 

In sync, the two of you lock eyes as you continue to test waters. You apply pressure with your palm and note the way his breathing hitches, and he draws a feather-light circle around the wet patch forming in your underwear. You can feel your bottom lip quiver as you try to refuse to give him any satisfaction, but when he’s this close, it’s a hopeless battle.

When had he gotten so near you? What happened to all that static distance from when you’d first crawled into the backseat?

You’re trying to only focus on your own hand. Eyes darting to guarantee the driver is still oblivious as you roll the heel of your hand harder against the seam of his pants, and biting your lip to hold back a successful grin when he has to cover a gasp with a cough. It’s all fun and games until the action is rewarded with his payback; his knuckle curling up against your cunt through your panties, pressing in hard before slowly sliding his way up, up, up. 

He deliberately stops when he catches on your clit, and you’re the one coughing now. 

“Had enough?” he mutters under his breath, looking at you with half-lidded eyes. He looks good in this lighting, flashes of the streetlights bathing him in soft yellow, headlights of other cars fluttering in through the windshield as they hit his brown eyes just right to bronze them. 

“Never.”

You almost think you’ve won when his knuckle pulls back. 

But suddenly, his entire hand is cupping your cunt, two fingers pressing against your fluttering hole as another drags up your slit slowly once more. This time, when he reaches your clit, he continues moving in small circles. 

You have to bite your lip to hold back any noises, eyes closing for just a second as you hear him huff out a laugh. 

The final damnation is when he brings his lips to your bare shoulder, merely grazing your skin with them as he mumbles, “You sure about that, Kitty?” 

You clench around nothing, and you know when he feels it from where his fingers remain pressed against you. His own hand twitches as the finger circling your clit stutters for a moment. 

“I-”

“We’re here!” the driver says, not having looked into the backseat yet as he finds a safe place to pull the car into. In an instant, you and Eddie remove your hands from each other. You’re both visibly flustered – you can feel how warm your cheeks have gotten, and you can see clouds of pink splattering over Eddie’s chest and neck. 

“Thanks,” Eddie is the one to speak up as the car comes to a halt, not even waiting for the driver to put the vehicle in park as he throws the door open. 

A bit rushed, but still polite as ever before he’s grabbing you by your bicep to pull you out of the cramped space right along with him. 

You can hardly muster a weak wave to the man as Eddie is dragging you towards your apartment building, knees still a bit weak and mind still blank after getting a taste of your own medicine, as Eddie had put it. 

He doesn’t let go of you until you’re at your front door, those cursed shaking hands of yours fumbling with your key ring. 

“Here, let me-” he starts to offer, reaching for the keys that continue to clank together, just as you find the one you’re looking for. 

“I’ve got it-” you try to cut him off, just as you drop the fucking keys in your haste. “Shit.” 

You quickly drop to the ground to grab them, pausing once you have the metal digging into your palms once more. There’s no real reason for you to do it, but you do – you take a second to look up at Eddie from this position, and nearly drool at the sight of it.

Him, standing over you, still a bit flushed and still visibly uncomfortable in his pants. Pretty curls a mess and lips darkening from how much he’s been biting them. 

You want him to ruin you. You want him to absolutely, entirely and utterly destroy you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he laughs, chest heaving a bit as he watches you carefully, pupils slowly growing in the dim light of your building’s hallway. 

You can see his bare torso clenching, the twitch of his hands at his sides – the same fingers that had just been caressing you over your underwear in the backseat of a stranger’s car. 

“Like what?” you’re dragging out the moment, taking time to appreciate the sight of him. 

“Like you want me to just press you up against the wall and fuck you out here, for everyone to see.” 

That’s a new one. That’s a vision that hadn’t come to you in all your dirtiest dreams of the night. 

It sends your clit throbbing. 

You rise slowly, pushing the hat back a bit to see him better, keeping your voice quiet so your neighbors won’t hear as you ask, “Would you? If I asked nicely?” 

He doesn’t let out a laugh, but a breath of air, like you’ve just sucked all of the oxygen out of his lungs. 

No need to say it – you know he would. You probably wouldn’t even have to ask nicely. 

You’re staring at him when he finally moves, one hand snatching your keys out of your hand and the other gripping you around the waist. Back to pulling you, man-handling you to get you right where he wants you – where he needs you. 

One second, you’re pressed against his body in the hallway. The next, he’s managed to unlock your front door and throw you both into the safety of your apartment. 

Hidden from the world, and you’re still reeling as you wonder what it’d be like for the entire building to witness you calling out his name. Or him calling out your name. 

Here within these four walls, Eddie has put some space between the two of you, staring with blown out eyes and a shaking chest as he breathes out, “Sweetheart.”

A few seconds pass, the two of you just standing there, the click of the front door’s lock being the only thing echoing in the silence. If you focused over the roar of the blood pounding in your ears, you might catch every single gasp of his as he stares in awe – but your focus is elsewhere. Far away and out of grasp for the time being. You can only think of one thing, and one thing only. 

Your body isn’t your own as you move to get exactly what you want; you drop to your knees hard enough that you should cringe at the thought of the pain that will linger, possibly for days, but it doesn’t even cross your mind as your hands begin to fumble with Eddie’s pants. The oversized, gaudy belt buckle is in your way, glinting at you as if mocking the way your shaking hands can’t undo it fast enough. You’re about to give up and just start unzipping the leather pants, desperate to get your hands, and your mouth, and your eyes on him properly, when he stops you. 

“Hey,” he sounds breathless - he is breathless - as his own hands quiver a bit and grab onto yours, “Hey, hey, hey. Slow down.”

Those hands let go of your wrists and reach for the hat, and you’re quick to try and swat them away only for him to grab at you, surprisingly gentle, as he drags you back up to your feet. 

“Wear the hat, ride the cowboy – right?” you insist, chin held high, your gaze refusing to waver from his. 

His slow and buttery grin makes you lightheaded, his low chuckle sends shakes through every nerve and bone. “That’s right, but maybe the cowboy wants to take his time. Ever think of that, hm?” 

Were you moving too fast? Were you going to scare him off? 

Small, baby steps are taken by Eddie, the click of his heels shattering against your wooden floors until his hips are flush with yours. 

And - oh.

Oh. 

That surely didn’t feel like you were scaring him off. 

You could feel the outline of his cock, hard against your hip, as he gives a little roll. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth, nostrils flaring with a hard breath, and the fear leaves as quickly as it had arrived. 

He wants this. You want him. 

“I’m not a very patient person,” you murmur, eyes glued to his lips now as his head leans in closer, and his hands begin to explore your body. Taking their time as they travel down your arms from where he’d held onto your biceps, slowing as they reach your wrists. Even the press of his thumb against the sensitive inner skin there sends jolts up your spine, little gasps attempting to escape your mouth. 

His fingers tangle loosely with your own for a few moments before his palms find your hips, and he continues his journey. 

“That’s okay,” he whispers back, close enough now that his lips have begun to brush against your own. His nose bumps yours as his hands skate up over your ribcage, thumb sweeping out over the hill of your breast and intentionally avoiding your nipple, “I can teach you, baby.”

Your mouth finally collides with him at the words, nearly going limp in his arms at the words. 

You’ve thought about kissing Eddie for a while now. Every time a snarky remark fell from his lips, you’d wonder how his tongue might taste afterwards. Every time he’d pout his lips at one of your comebacks, or blow a kiss teasingly in your direction from across a room, you’d wonder how hard you might have to bite down to make him bleed. Every drag of a cigarette you’d witnessed, every hard gasp in faux offense, every breathless chuckle at a joke he didn’t want to find funny but did – you had spent a lot of time wondering what it might be like to steal all the air from his lungs, to kiss him until the two of you were both blue in the face. 

“Can’t the lesson wait until tomorrow?” you mumble against him as his mouth, your own fists now gripping onto the lapels of his vest. His hands have reached your shoulders, memorizing the outlines of the curve of your neck where it meets your collarbones, the slope of your chest as you take hot and heavy breaths. 

“Nope,” he insists, pulling back from the kiss, a little bit of spit on his pink lips, “But it’s nice to know you’re thinking about tomorrow.” 

A hand finally finds your chin and pinches it carefully between his thumb and fingers, a careful grip on you to angle you just right so he can all but devour you. Lips, tongues, teeth – it’s a messy ordeal, and you almost make a smart-ass remark that this kiss doesn’t feel very patient. 

But you can’t. Eddie’s taken away all your breaths, all your words, as he starts to guide you backwards. 

Your knees hit the cushions of your sofa, making you jump back from him with a gasp, palms going flat against his chest. 

He feels good. Tender skin soft to the touch beneath your hand, tattoos tempting to trace the outline of. Later. 

“Figured you might want a more comfortable ride,” he laughs against you, breath smelling ever so faintly of mint and whiskey washing over you, before he dips to mouth away at your neck.

You drop back onto the sofa, bite your tongue on a comment about how this cheap piece of furniture most definitely wasn’t the most comfortable option, simply eager at the fact he was letting this move along. 

You want him, you need him, and you have no time for patience. 

His exploration of touches have lit you aflame, and you’re growing a bit desperate at this point. It might be pathetic, it should be embarrassing, but you really don’t care. 

“By all means,” you break out of his hold entirely, catching the way his hand holding your chin lingers a few extra seconds, reluctant to let you go, “Take your seat, Cowboy.” 

He joins you on the couch, eyes never leaving yours even as he throws himself down. Knees spread wide, inviting lap on show, cock still straining against his pants. 

The best seat in the house, as far as you’re concerned. 

“You just gonna keep starin’,” he mocks lightly, looking you over slowly. Taking his time, you suppose, “Or you gonna get over here?” 

His words are all you need. You’re quick to climb onto his lap, swinging your legs so that each thigh brackets his hips, your cunt pressing down on crotch carelessly. You love the way it feels – the outline of him hard against you, the cooling effect of the leather, the sharp edges of the zipper catching just right. 

“There,” he huffs out, grabbing onto you when you give the slightest roll of your hips, “Now we’re both in our seats.” 

When you go to press down harder, guiding yourself over his lap, hands steadying you by gripping his shoulders, he surprises you by his hips jumping up to meet your slow rhythm.

“What happened to being patient?” you try to tease him right back as your forehead meets his, hat comically struggling to stay on between the two of you, “Thought you were gonna take your time with me-”

“Between you and me, I’m not gonna last,” he pants out, hands finding your hips. Those rings you’d been fantasizing of leaving an imprint on you are doing just that as he guides you, “Been dreaming of you too long, sweetheart. Wanted this for so long.” 

Your heart nearly stops. Your hips stutter, pausing as his words rush over you. 

“What?” 

Your head lifts away from his completely, grip on his shoulders tightening. 

He’s wanted this, too? This entire time? 

Eddie takes your pause as a bad thing, a terrible omen as his face pales, “I mean- I just-”

“Munson,” you say lowly, narrowing your eyes at him, “You’re telling me, this entire time, you’ve been flirting with me?” 

Had that tone he used with the girl at the bar been flirting as you’d thought, or simple for show? You’d so cluelessly assumed he’d never used that tone with you because he’d never genuinely flirted with you – and yet, it seems, he’d never used that tone because he’d been genuinely flirting with you. 

“I-” his cheeks are brilliant red, and the wide eyes are from something different than lust now, “Maybe?” 

“Maybe?” you almost laugh, throwing your head back. The hat falls off, but Eddie is quick to retrieve it, “My God, we’re fucking idiots.” 

“Hey, I’m not the one who stole my hat-”

“I like you, dumb ass,” you state plainly, “I wanted this for a while, too.” 

He pauses, one arm outstretched as his hand grips onto the hat, “What?” 

“Been thinking about this, too,” your voice drops a little, almost a whisper, even though you two are the only ones in the room. For all you know, you two might be the only two people left in the world with the way he’s looking at you, “Thinking about you and your lips. Thinking ‘bout your hands and the places they’d go,” as you point out every detail, his body seemingly reacts. A lick of his lips, a squeeze of his hand still on your hip, “Thought about your fingers and tongue a lot, too. How good they’d feel inside me.” 

His hips thrust up at that, and suddenly, he’s placing his hat back atop your head. 

That, it seems, was all the encouragement Eddie needed. 

He deals with that belt buckle that had given you hell, bouncing you a bit on his lap as he fumbles with yanking the entire belt off and tossing it to the side. One hand busies with undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, as the other starts to bunch your dress. 

“Nice and slow,” he insists, looking up at you, absolutely vibrant. Somewhere between the tightness between your hips, all the throbbing between your thighs and in your chest, you feel a sort of bubbly delight creeping up along your spine. “Got it, kitty?” 

You nod once. Twice. On the third nod, he cuts you off with a kiss. 

Your dress is up to your waist, and you don’t know how, but he manages to shimmy off his pants without throwing you off his lap entirely. It’s impressive, really. Probably a symptom of him having thought about this, dreamt about this. He’d probably thought up every scenario possible, and was prepared. 

“Oh, and these?” his fingers find the waistband of your panties, tsking a little as he pulls at the elastic and lets it slap back against your skin, “Those definitely have to come off.” 

“Whatever you say, cowboy.” 

You take your time sliding off his lap, making sure to grind against him before you properly lift away. He throws his head back in a groan, Adam’s apple bobbing as you stand up straight. You take that moment to just admire him, capturing the clench of his jaw to memory, the way his eyes screw shut in pleasure at your influence. 

He’s fucking perfect. You’re sure there’s others who disagree, but you’d pay them no mind. He’s perfect, and he’s all yours. 

You make a show of taking off your panties only once he’s properly looking at you once more, craving his eyes on you as you keep all your movements fluid and steady. No rush, exuding all that patience he’d prattled on about. 

You want to see his face when you gently toss the black lacey piece in his direction, watch him fumble with his own desperation to catch them. 

“Seems a bit unfair that I’m the only one undressing,” you hum as you go a step further and begin to shimmy out of the dress.

“Yeah, well,” he grins cheekily at you, fisting your panties, a hand trailing down to the waistband of his boxers as he eyes you, “One of us was showing a bit more skin than the other.”

“Take off the vest, Eddie.” 

Your command is velvet, and he’s quick to obey. His hand stubbornly refuses to let go of your panties as he rushes to shrug out of the thin fabric over his shoulders, tossing the vest to join his pants and your dress on the floor. 

“And the boxers.” 

You stand there, in nothing but his cowboy hat, as you wait pretty and patient for him to listen. And listen he does. 

The moment his boxers are discarded, his cock is standing at attention, leaking from the tip and deep shade of pink that matches his kiss-bitten lips. You think it might be the prettiest color you’ve ever laid eyes on as you watch a drop of  precum slip down his shaft. 

He’s pretty, even in the fucking pants. 

Girthy, thick enough you almost arch your back before you’ve even sunk down on him. All veins and soft skin, a sensitive tip that you’d trace your tongue over for hours if he let you. 

“Gonna just stand there, or are you going to ride your cowboy?” 

He surely meant to sound more cocky, but the words come out as more of a whine as you watch him twitch under your stare. 

He’s right though, and you’d rather get him inside you than spend another second gawking. There will be time to pay more attention to him and his pretty cock tomorrow. Right now, you need to finish this god-forsaken mission. 

Your thighs find his hips just as his hands find yours, choosing to grip the couch rather than his shoulders as you steady yourself. 

Nice and slow, his words echo in your mind. 

You could have prepared yourself more, but you’d already made it clear to Eddie that you are not a patient person. The fact that you even take your time as you sink down on him, going as far as to grab him by his base and guide his tip to smear precum across your clit, is impressive. 

The stretch is a bit painful. A bit much. A bit dizzying. But you refuse to stop as your jaw drops, eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy. 

“Fuck,” you breathe out softly as you feel him fill you, “Fuck, Eddie.” 

“Feel good, baby?” he questions, reaching up to grab your chin just as he had before. Forcing you closer to him, forcing you to look him in the eyes just as he bottoms out. 

You don’t answer him as you both moan out. 

You stay there for a second, unmoving as you swim in the feeling. Feeling him press into the depths of you, the overwhelming warmth and the coil in your abdomen tightening ever so slightly. 

It’s better than you had imagined it. No daydreams could compare to the feeling of Eddie’s cock finally, finally filling you. Stretching you out, making you his. 

“Go ahead,” he grits out, entire body tense, clearly holding out on you, “Ride your cowboy, kitty. Don’t make me ask twice.” 

Nice. And. Slow.

Three little words that ricochet through your mind as you start to slowly bounce on him. Lifting ever so slightly, dropping back down, aching to feel him even deeper inside of you. Feeling the quiver of his thighs to match yours as you repeat the action, gasps and whimpers falling from both your lips. You’re about to try and kiss him, try and swallow all those delicate noises from him, when he stops you. 

“No, no, no,” he’s chuckling, giving your hips a few squeezes before his palms rub down your thighs, the friction sending you on edge, “C’mon, now. We both know that’s not how you ride.” 

His hands rake over your skin, down to your knees, lighting scratching and squeezing along their entire pathway until they make their way back up to your waist and hips. 

“Do it like this, sweetheart.”

He guides you, no longer allowing you to lift up. You sink all the way down on his cock, whining out at the fullness, before he starts the pattern. 

Back and forth. Gentle circles amidst the rocking. Your clit grazes his pubes, and the coil in between your hips has never tightened more quickly. 

The motion feels familiar - like riding a bull. 

This feels right. You still press down, still clench down on him hard enough to make you both slip out obscenities, but it’s getting you there. 

At some point, Eddie’s grip on your hips slips, but it’s fine – you’ve got the rhythm down perfectly. Slow, intermittent figure eights between the rolls of your hips, his occasionally slamming upward to reward you with that deepness you need. You can feel him in your stomach, in your chest, in your throat. 

You get a bit daring, and take one hand to his shoulders, as the other reaches up for the top of the hat on your head. 

Just like a cowboy. 

“Like this?” you pant out between harsher rolls, eliciting curses that continue to grow louder from Eddie. 

“Fuck, baby, yes,” he groans out, head thrown back, mouth open in gratification, “Just like that. Keep- keep going just,” he thrusts up, “Like,” another thrust, “That.” 

You nearly lose balance, falling forward a bit, too stubborn to let go of the hat. There’s a grin glimmering at the corners of your mouth, and it fully blooms when Eddie throws up a hand to catch you .

A hand on your throat. 

He doesn’t squeeze, doesn’t cut off blood flow or breathing. He keeps that warm palm there at the base of your neck, cradling you, holding you. A reminder that he could squeeze if he wanted, that he held you in the palm of his hands currently, but he won’t. 

“You like that?” his eyes shine as he looks up at you, the sight of his rings decorating your neck. 

You nod.

“Tell me with your words,” he commands.

“I like it,” you whimper, looking up further, stretching more of your neck to be vulnerable to Eddie. “I like it so much, baby.” 

When the pet name falls from your lips, you can feel him twitch inside of you. The sudden jut of his hips, the sharp intake of breath. 

“You like that,” you laugh breathlessly, your hand atop the hat the only thing keeping it from falling as you lean your head fully back, eyes beginning to roll back into your head. “Wanna be my baby, Munson?” 

“Always have,” he grunts, the hand on your throat slipping up to cup your face to drag you towards him, “Since the fucking moment I met you, sweetheart.”

When he kisses you, it tastes like the closest to Heaven you might ever get. Soft, plump lips, and an eager tongue. All the wasted time hiding behind jokes and teasing, playing pretend like the flirting was never serious.

It was serious. And if you’d just come clean sooner, you would have had this long ago. 

Your hips are still rolling as your hands begin to roam. You’ve found your balance again, lips pressed to Eddie, and it’s your turn to explore all he has to give you. Your nails graze his stomach when your clit catches once more on that rough thatch of hair against the base of his cock. Your fingers dig into flesh wherever they can find it – his chest, his arms, his hips. At some point, you throw a hand out behind you, grasping for his knee. Learning every curve and every point of his body as he had done for you. 

You wanna memorize the roadmap of him. Take a snapshot in your mind so that next time, none of it is unfamiliar territory. 

Your touch is driving him insane; it doesn’t take a genius to pick up on the way his hips falter to meet your movements, or how he keeps breaking the kiss to gasp, letting his jaw fall slack when he hits a particular deep spot within you. 

It’s when your lips finally trail down the stubble sprouting across his jawline, mouth sucking on the soft skin below his ear, that he’s finally a goner. 

“‘M close,” he gasps out, almost sounding drunk as he slurs through his pants, “Ah, fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me, Eddie.” 

Maybe it’s the way you had been touching him, or the way your cunt had been fluttering around him, or the persistent rolling of your hips that had become so focused on his pleasure. Maybe it was the sight of you in his hat, looking at him like that. Maybe it was the way his name sounded on your tongue. 

Either way, when Eddie Munson comes undone, he’s beautiful. 

Your own movements slow involuntarily as you gaze starry eyed, watching the way his face scrunches and feeling his grip on you tighten impossibly. Leaving their mark, making you his in yet another way. Warmth fills your cunt and every curse word under the summer sun is falling from his lips. 

Your name, curses, prayers, gratitude – a jumbled mess, and it sounds fucking fantastic when it’s said in Eddie’s desperate tone. 

“Shit,” he gasps out, finally coming back down to Earth, “Shit.”

You sit still on his lap, skin sticky with sweat, lips spread thin in a cheeky grin, “Sounds like I get to keep your hat, cowboy.” 

His eyes shoot open, and for a second, you’re terrified.

Those aren’t the eyes of someone satisfied. 

“You didn’t cum.”

“What?”

“You,” he says, stressing the word as he shifts you off his lap. You don’t miss the way he winces, clearly a bit sensitive, “Did not cum.” 

You hadn’t really noticed, too wrapped up in him to notice your high slipping away from you. You’d been too focused on Eddie: on feeling him cum inside you, on watching him break apart, on tracing the outline of the blood rushing to his cheeks with your eyes and that fresh burst of violet on his neck in the shape of your lips. 

“It’s fine,” you start to argue, feeling the warmth of him leaking down your thighs. You should be a lot more worried about making a mess all over your sofa. You should be, but you aren’t. “I can-”

“You’re not keeping that fucking hat until you cum for me, sweetheart.” 

And, oh, maybe your own orgasm wasn’t racing as far away from you as you’d believed, because those words nearly push you over the edge for him. 

“Get on all fours for me, baby.” 

Yeah. You definitely could still be close. For him.

When you don’t move to follow his command immediately, he’s using those gentle hands to guide you. Encouraging a twist of your hips from how you’re reclining back across the couch, letting you press your cheek down against the cushion.

You open your mouth to argue, to insist it was fine, to say anything, but you’re cut silent when a sudden slap lands on your ass. 

A silent command this time, and you’re finally listening. 

You lift your ass up for him on shaky knees, elbows digging into the cushion now instead of your face. The hat on your head is lopsided, and you almost reach up to fix it when- 

“I’ll be taking that,” For the first time since you’d stolen his hat, Eddie takes it back. Right off your head, too fast for you to protest. When you dig your chin into your shoulder to look back at him, he’s smiling, hat back in its rightful place atop his curls, “You can have it back after you cum for me, at least once.”

“At least once?” you mean to laugh, to sound cocky, but it comes out as more of a squeak. 

He shrugs, leaning forward, his bare chest pressing against the skin of your bare ass – right where an imprint of his hand still sings, “At least. By all means, if you feel the need, don’t hesitate to give me a few. God knows you’ve earned it.” 

You don’t have time to banter back; he retracts before bring his mouth down to your cunt, and your elbows quickly give out at the first long stride of his tongue. 

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, a bit muffled, against your cunt. 

Another stride, and this time, his tongue spends an extra second at your clit, circling it salaciously. 

“Oh, God,” you moan out into a mouthful of couch cushion, tempted to bite down to hide all the noises creeping up your throat when his tongue draws yet another circle, tip of his nose pressed to your sensitive hole.

He brings his tongue back to that space, that hole that feels gaping without him filling you now, and you try to bury your cheek only to earn another slap on the ass.

“Don’t be shy now, kitty. Let me hear you.” 

And let him hear you, you do. 

Each lick, short and timid or long and confident, is dredging up obscene mewls from you. When he enters you with it, curling it and pressing as deep as he can, truly cleaning you up as he had said, you’re chanting his name. 

“Fuck, Eddie,” you cry softly, rocking your body back against his mouth, “Your fingers. P-Please, use your fingers.” 

Your wish is his command as he brings his hand up between your legs, breaking from having his tongue buried inside of you and using a calloused pad of his finger to trace over your clit before he begs, “Say my name again.” 

You do. Over, and over, and over as his mouth and his fingers begin to work against you. Careful focus is placed on your clit, and his mouth runs amok between your cunt and thighs. You feel what will no doubt be hickies along the curve of your ass, nips of teeth against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he presses two fingers into you. With every thrust of his hand, your hips are rocking back to match his rhythm, wanting more. 

More, more, more. 

There’s nothing nice and slow about this. You’re chasing after a high, and Eddie is listening to you every step of the way. 

Your thighs begin to shake terribly right around the time your vision blurs, unable to contain the whines that have grown to echoing volumes. Surely, your neighbors can hear. Probably confused as to who Eddie is, probably considering how embarrassing it would be to knock down your door and complain about the noises. 

You really, really don’t give a fuck when white speckles flood your vision, even with your eyes screwed shut, and that tension between your hips threatens to snap. 

Right before your knees give out, your entire body trembling, Eddie pulls back and grabs your hips. You cry out, so close yet so far, until he’s flipping you back over. 

You get one glimpse of him before he goes to work to bring you over that edge – lips and chin slick with you, hair frizzing beneath his hat, a determined glint in his eyes that have your thighs clenching around his ears. 

You were right. Eddie Munson looks damn good between your thighs. 

He quickly returns to his mitigations, and this time, it’s all a bit more strategic. Lips suctioned around your clit and three fingers curling deep within you, a beckoning motion as he urges you to let go for him. 

The white returns behind your eyelids. Your back arches up off the sofa. Your ankles lock as they cross behind Eddie’s back, almost effectively trapping him in place.

You cum hard for him. 

You’re entirely unaware if you scream his name in the process, but you hope you do. As that relief, that ecstasy, floods your system, you hope you make sure everyone within a five mile radius knows who’s responsible. Your entire body continues to shake for far longer than you believe it ever has before. Your hips had lifted, begging for Eddie to keep going even as it all grew painful.

He does. He keeps going, sucking you dry for every drop you have to give him, until you’re physically having to shove him away. 

Your hands are weak as you sink down into the cushion, eyes still closed as you hear him chuckle before you feel him crawl his way back up your body. 

“There,” you don’t even need to see his face to see that smug satisfaction – his voice is dripping in it. “Now you can keep the hat.” 

One of your hands blindly throws itself through the air to smack him, missing entirely as you drift through the afterglow of it all. 

“I’m not sure I’ve earned it,” you mumble as he catches your wrist, limp in the air, “Pretty sure I didn’t break you when I made you cum.”

“Oh, you did,” he notes, hand curling around your wrist. You watch as he slowly brings it to his lips, peppering a few chaste kisses on the soft skin, “Just in a different way.” 

You raise your eyebrows, smiling at the tingling feeling left behind on your skin in the wake of his mouth, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

He tugs you to sit up despite your groan of protest, somehow smoothly maneuvering the two of you so that he’s now the one beneath you, letting the full weight of you bear down on his chest as you lay on top of him. The hand wrapped around your wrist brings it back up for more kisses, more repetitive gentle pecks of affection, as his other arm is quick to wrap around you. Holding you in place, as though he’s scared you might disappear. 

“Well,” you whisper against the bare skin of his chest, nearly shivering when his free hand starts to trail slowly up and down your spine, “Good.” 

Your cheek feels the vibrations of his chuckle, “That’s all you have to say?” 

“Give me a few minutes to recover,” you insist, all but nuzzling into him, “I’m sure I’ll have a smartass comeback for you once I’m…” you trail off, heavy eyes looking up at him, the words lost on your tongue and in the air. 

The gentle curve of his cupid’s bow. The roundness at the end of his nose, still a fading hue of pink. The freckle beneath his right eye. The way the phantom of the dimple of his left cheek never quite leaves his face.

All the things you’ve dreamt of seeing so up close, never knowing it could have been a reality. 

He lets go of your wrist, smiling softly with a shake of his head, “Can’t believe you’re gonna fall asleep on me.”

“Am not,” you nearly say under your breath, sighing in content. 

“Am too,” he mocks, a certain docility to all his teasing before he sighs as well, “It’s okay. You can. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

You hum, eyes fluttering shut as you hear some rustling, “Promise, cowboy?” 

“Absolutely, kitty. You said something about tomorrow, remember?” 

You both laugh in sync as your couch suddenly becomes the most comfortable place in the world. 

Just before losing consciousness, right as you feel Eddie’s breathing even out along with your own, you decide to open your eyes one last time to catch sight of the cowboy hat perched carefully on your coffee table. 

Tomorrow. You hope for a thousand tomorrows as you decide that that hat is definitely yours now.

[shiftingwithcha]

so...I shifted and I am freaking out !

Hello people! I hope you are all doing amazing! For everybody that is reading this and want to shift, I hope it gives you motivation!

So firstly y'all need to know that my DR is Stranger Things (season 3 because the mall looks fire). I have found this walkman from my dad like maybe a week ago and decided to listen to my Billy Joel mixtape. I bought those melatonin gummies and decided to try it out and I ate 2 of those as well.

WHAT I DID BEFORE SHIFTING:

So I laid down on my bed, my walkman in my hand and I close my eyes as I felt the gummies having their effects on me. I started to fall asleep and as the music went on I started to count and just feel my body and my surrounding as I was just focusing on waking up in my dr.

As I was trying to keep my focus on my music I slowly started to feel myself just melt in my bed and my music was slowly fading out and coming back but all of a sudden it just stopped, which at first made me so confused because it is supposed to be 45 minutes long and I then felt like I wasn't in my bed. I was elsewhere.

THE STORY TIME:

As I felt this weird feeling, I realised I was slowly waking up and someone was actually just shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes and didn't feel my headphones nor the walkman in my hands. I turn to the person that was shaking me awake and it was Hopper (he is my dad there). He looked at me and it is AT THIS MOMENT THAT I REALISED THAT IT WAS NOT A FREAKING DREAM.

I looked around and I was a bit freaked out because this is clearly not like a freaking lucid dream nor a normal dream. He looked at me and basically just said: "can you get your butt up because Marie (my best friend there) keeps spamming the phone and won't stop calling until you wake up"

So I got up and freaked out a bit and Hopper noticed that and went: "are you good? You look disoriented". I assured him I was alright but in my head I was FREAKING OUT. I was happy he couldn't see how my brain was ticking in my brain because he would have been sooo worried.

I got myself ready and as I was putting my shoes on, Marie came and I got in her car. We were heading to the mall. I was so happy and still was freaking out how IT IS ALL FREAKING ALL REAL. I was looking around I was almost on the verge of actually pinch marie to see if she would react but instead I was just playing with the radio she had in her car and she was like: " what the hell are you doing? You know my freaking radio does not work so don't bother trying". And I was like: "Yeaaa yea I totally knew that already!!". (I think she was suspicious about something)

We then arrived to the mall and we just started to hang out and just shop around at the Gap especially and other store. We even took a look at the Radio Shack that they had and it just computer stuff but still hella cool (I kind of miss Bob). THE MALL IS HUGE. THEY ARE SO MUCH STUFF TO DO THERE IT IS JUST CRAZY.

Then Marie and I decided (mostly Marie) to go to scoops and guess who works there???? STEVE WORKS THERE AAAAH. I was totally trying not to freak out but it was hard not to. So basically we walked in and I was trying to keep myself concentrated on Marie and I went like: "Oh so Robin works here? I bet you only wanted to see her because you like her right?" I was basically teasing Marie with Robin and I waved at Robin. She is so so nice. And she waved back while Marie literally answered me: "okay stfu she is right there".

And then..I saw him...Steve freaking Harrington. He has the sweetest smile. If I was an ice cream I think I would have melted like RIGHT THERE ON THE SPOT. HIS SMILE IS SO PRECIOUS BUT ANYWAYS. We walked and he just always has this thing that he passes him hand through his hair all the time??? It is a bit annoying but his hair looks so fluffy as well.

We walked to the counter and Steve and Robin were just bickering about that stupid board with "you suck/you rule". But he just cut the conversation and talked to us saying: "Hi you guys want anything?" And I STAYED SILENT I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO ANSWER AND HE LOOKED AT ME AND SAID: "Oh it has been a while since we have seen each other ah!" AND I WAS JUST PANICKING RIGHT ONTHE SPOT AND I WENT LIKE: "oh yea.. you are right it has been a while!"

So after that he looked at us and said: "So maybe so cherry jubilee ice cream?" He was a bit fighting with Robin because I believe that since Robin also has a crush on Marie she wanted to serve us just so she could talk to Marie. And while marie agreed to it I said that I wanted to taste the blue ice cream which was "smurf's flavour" AND IT WAS DELICIOUS but he literally said like: "that is the one we sell the less because it has the worst flavour of all" and was like "I don't care I want this one" AND THE WAY HE SHRUGGED HIS SHOULDERS AND PULLED OUT HIS FREAKING SCOOPER MAN...I am a fan for this man.

So...I asked for one scoops only but he gave me 3 instead and I didn't had to pay omg like what??? What a gentleman. So I thanked him and walk to a table with marie and sat down my back facing the counter so I couldn't see them. And after we were talking about some random stuff with Marie I FEEL SOMEONE WALKING NEXT TO ME AND IT WAS FREAKING STEVE. I lightly tapped my shoulder with his index finger and went like: "oh yea..do you...know about that party tonight? Do you plan on going?" and I look at Marie and frowned a bit saying "Well I would love to, but I would only be allowed to go if Marie and Jonathan were going" So marie agreer to it as Robin was also gonna be there.

So I agreed on going and he was like: "Oh well can't wait to see you again!!" After we finished our ice cream and as I grab all my shopping bags he grabs one of mine and looks at me and say: "oh don't forget this one" and I went like: "Oh yea sure give it to marie thank you" I SWEAR I MUST HAVE SOUND SO DRY BUT I WAS JUST SO FREAKED OUT!

So me and Marie walked out and she brought me back home Hopper was not there because he must have been to work. Eleve was not there either and I still don't know where she was probably at Mike's. Marie left to go grab some stuff and as I settled down on my bed I was thinking about all the stuff that happened to far and I was thinking about shifting back so I could enjoy my next shift without freaking the fuck out.

so I shifted back and woke to my walkman but it was not playing anymore it was just turning.. SO THAT WAS JUST AMAZING AND I CAN'T STOP FREAKING OUT OF HOW REAL THIS IS AAAAAH.

[steviesbicrisis]

To me it’s the fact that Steve assumed Robin had a license but still woke up 3 hours before his work shift to drive her to school everyday.

That is not a plot hole everybody, that is just the kind of person Steve Harrington is.

[dreamsteddie]

Steve and Eddie who kind of flop in life and end up poor, living in a trailer in a different small town living quiet lives of no import.

The kids, Robin, Nancy, and Johnathan all seem to take the small handful of opportunities offered to them by the government in the aftermath of the Upsidedown to take off and make something of their lives. They're off writing headlines, making news, and living their lives to the best of their abilities, but Steve and Eddie find themselves stuck.

Steve stayed in Hawkins until the kids graduated and left for college. By then Nancy, Johnathan, and Robin are all in their second or third years of college. John and Nancy have their own apartment in New York together and don't reach out all that often, only seeing the rest of the Hawkins crew on Holidays and some vacations. Robin is flourishing at an all-women's college in Maine and has a partner and a cat and plans for graduate school brewing. She's always saying Steve can come out and join her whenever he's ready, but when the time comes it feels like he would just be trying to insert himself in the middle of a life he doesn't know how to fit into, so he turns to Eddie instead.

Eddie is permanently disabled in a number of ways following the events of season four. He struggles with chronic pain, has breathing issues due to the loss of part of his right lung, and lost enough muscle mass in his left leg that walking will never be easy or done without the use of a walker or arm bar crutches. The doctors said he recovered as well as he could have. The kids said he would get better with time. Wayne said it didn't matter if he never got better, he could do anything he set his mind to.

Steve is the only person who tells him the truth.

Steve tells him that it sucks. Tells him that it will probably always hurt. Doesn't give him false hope when he's trying to grieve the loss of the life he wanted to live. The goals he wanted to reach. When he falls deeper and deeper into himself, stuck in the muck of depression, Steve is the only person he lets in. The kids try their best but their lives are moving fast, and taking care of someone like Eddie is exhausting, no matter what they try to say. Eventually, everyone but Dustin gives up on reaching out, the younger boy showing up every Sunday to try and get Eddie out of the house. He always leaves disappointed.

When Steve asks him if he wants to use what's left of their partly government payouts and Steve's equally meager Family Video savings to buy a truly shitty trailer in a town an hour and a half south of Hawkins in the fall of 1990, it feels like the first boon he's been given in almost five years. He'll never be who he could have been if he had ignored Chrissy that day in 86', but he's always thought maybe he could be more than a ghost between Wayne's walls if he could just get out of this god-forsaken town full of people who know too much and too little of what's happened to him.

They get the trailer, pack what little they have, let Wayne hug them close, and leave.

Steve has already transferred to their new town's Family Video, moving up to claim the dubious honor of being the opening manager. Mostly he just unlocks the door, signs into the computer, and makes sure nothing catches fire. Eddie hoped that moving would miraculously make him fit to enter back into the world, but he spends most of his days with a blanket on the front porch, watching people pass by. He does, though, finally accept that he needs to apply for disability to help Steve keep the lights on and the water hot. That last little bit of hope that he could be what he used to be dies, but he's learning to be content with what he does have. He starts taking a walk, just ten minutes around the loop of the trailer park saying hi and trading polite nods with his fellow residents. He's not ok, but he's starting to build a new community of people not too different from himself.

The new trailer only has one bedroom. Eddie sleeps on a fold-out mattress in the living room. It had been a major argument when they first moved in with Steve insisting that Eddie needed the bed. Eddie argued that it wasn't fair for him to take the room when Steve was the one working 40 hours a week to keep them afloat. In the end, Eddie was the more stubborn of the two. It helps that Eddie has absolutely no qualms about crawling into bed with Steve on the nights when the couch bed really won't cut it for his aching body. Steve never questions it, just shuffles over a little and lets the other man in.

Steve doesn't question a lot of stuff.

He doesn't question when all their effects are shared between them with no effort to distinguish between yours and mine, Eddie's and Steve's. He doesn't question it four months in when Eddie starts to get his feet under him and decides to take up cooking, always trying his best to have everything done just as Steve walks through the door. He doesn't question when a good chunk of Eddie's first disability check goes to buying Steve a sturdy, if not very fashionable, new watch for his birthday since his old one went bust almost a year ago.

He doesn't question it when Eddie holds his hand for the first time under the stars hanging above their front porch.

He doesn't question it when Eddie introduces him to one of his new neighbor friends with a hand resting comfortably on his lower back

He doesn't question it when Eddie starts sleeping in the bedroom every night.

Or makes him box mix cupcakes for Valentine's Day.

Or kisses him for the first time on the couch that's never a bed unless they want to spend the day binge-watching bargain bin films.

Because really, isn't this how it was always going to go? Wasn't this exactly what Steve was asking for when he asked Eddie to skip town with him?

Isn't this what Eddie was hoping for when he said yes?

[asthedeathoflight]

I think an underrated angle on 2x05 is something that either Jacob or Assad said in some interview somewhere, which is that in that episode Louis is addicted to heroin. Thats why he has that whole stash of drugs that he gives to Daniel, that's why he gives Daniel the drugs even though he's already got him alone. He didn't just use those 128 boys for sex he was using them to get high. Bring them home, get them to shoot up, and then drain them to get that secondhand high.

It clarifies something that's always confused me about that scene, which is why Armand saves Daniel the first time. He wouldn't save Daniel as a person, he clearly knows Daniel needs to die, but he's not seeing Daniel as a person there. Daniel is just a substance. He rips him away from Louis to stop him from using.

And i think that adds a whole other layer to the fight he and Armand have to think that this is Louis on a bender, with Armand cleaning up after him because he's not stable enough to. Louis in the bed for a week isn't just healing from the burns, he's going through withdrawal. Him at the table with Daniel giving him the "bright young reporter" speech is probably the first time he's been sober in months.

It adds another layer to Armand's desperation, that Louis has been running from both Armand and himself in this way, and of course Armand wants to erase that memory. Of course he wants to pretend that that fight never happened. Not just to protect himself but in a way to protect Louis from having said those things. When he describes the fight to Louis afterwards, he says "you said the worst things you've ever said to me." And he doesn't really know how to forgive Louis for that so he just wants to bury this rock-bottom moment and move on like it never happened. After all, Louis was high, he didn't really mean it, but if he remembers then maybe he might think that he had a point. Better to wipe the whole experience away.

[wheneverfeasible]

Steve’s used to not being loved.

He’d known his parents didn’t love him since he was a young child. He’d known that the girls he casually took on dates and occasionally fucked didn’t love him. He’d known Tommy and Carol didn’t love him like friends were supposed to. They all loved his reputation, sure, but not him. It was easy though because he didn’t love them either.

He’d loved his parents once, a long time ago. Back before they were practically strangers, but that love had been the obligation of biology. He’d thought he loved Tommy and Carol, but it had all been too surface level and focused on popularity.

He had loved Nancy though. He finally found someone he could start to be his true self with and he loved her and he thought she loved him, only…only she didn’t.

He couldn’t blame her. After a while, when the same thing keeps happening, you kind of have to look for the common factor in all those loveless relationships and see what the real issue was. Simply put…

Steve was just unloveable.

Maybe it was his past. Not that he’d actually been a bully or anything, he’d actually shut down a lot of bullying even among his then-friends and teammates, but he had been kind of self-absorbed. Or maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t as smart as the people he found himself surrounded by. Maybe it was just the fact that he wasn’t anything special, not at the end of the day.

Except he could take a punch.

And slowly, he found people that did love him. The other kids might tolerate him, might like him, but Dustin genuinely loved him, he knew that. Dustin was his original ride-or-die. Dustin might be a little shithead that constantly treated Steve like he was stupid, but he was like his brother. And Dustin also make him feel amazing and wanted and loved.

And then there was Robin. Most amazing of all really was that Robin loved him. His Platonic soulmate. His other ride-or-die. She saw him at his lowest and saw him at his highest, was there for him when he had stuff he didn’t want to drop on a teen boy who should be worrying about pimples and bad hair days, not interdimensional monsters and evil wizards. Robin made him feel loved too, even if she also sometimes teased him a little too sharply.

There was also Max of course. He’d been surprised at receiving a letter from her too, back when Vecna had been after her. He’d read it, back when she’d been in her coma. She hadn’t said she loved him, but it was there in other ways. The big brother she should have had all along.

So yeah, okay, Steve was loved. But it was platonic. It was friends, his new kind of family even, but it wasn’t the love he’d always wanted and never had. He just accepted the fact that people didn’t love him that way.

Which was why, when he realized he was in love with Eddie, he just sighed and accepted it and never changed anything in the way he interacted with the other man. He didn’t bother telling Eddie because he knew there was no point. Besides, Robin called him out on it, said he was being so obvious about his feelings, but Eddie never said anything too.

So okay. Steve was in love with Eddie, but Eddie wasn’t in love with Steve. Eddie also didn’t treat Steve any differently despite knowing that Steve loved him. After all, if Steve was so obvious about it, then Eddie had to know too already, right?

So Steve watched Eddie come out to them, had nodded along when Eddie nervously explained what bisexuality was, having already had his own crisis before though he realized he’d never officially come out either. But then if his feelings for Eddie were so obvious, he figured he didn’t have to, so he didn’t say anything and let Eddie have his moment.

And it didn’t matter that Eddie liked guys. He still couldn’t love Steve, so Steve just accepted it and let it be. He didn’t flinch when Eddie mentioned meeting a guy in the city, was even downright friendly when Eddie eventually brought the guy around to meet everyone.

It hurt, of course, but Steve’s feelings were his own problem; he wasn’t going to let the fact that he was in love with one of his best friends make things awkward. Eddie was nice enough that he never told Steve to knock it off when Steve got a little too touchy with him, though Steve backed off in his own when Eddie seemed a little panicked about it sometimes.

Steve was even there for Eddie when Eddie came over crying because he and guy broke up. He wouldn’t tell Steve why they broke up, not entirely, but eventually Steve learned it was because Eddie had feelings for someone else this entire time.

Steve wondered who it was, but in any case he just hoped Eddie got to be happy with them eventually. He later told Eddie one day when Eddie was over that he was a great guy, obviously, and anyone Eddie liked would be a lucky person. He hoped he didn’t sound judgmental about it, didn’t want Eddie to think he was being petty or whatever, but Eddie just looked sad again and left soon after.

Steve knew he had a problem about being too much sometimes. It had pushed Nancy away, and every girl he’d tried to date afterwards never really liked him enough either. It was still just his reputation and his hair that got him dates, not who he was himself. That was fine. Temporary companionship was better than nothing he supposed.

And life continued, and Steve kept loving Eddie, and he was content that Eddie let him love him, even if there was no hope of it being reciprocated.

And then Steve went on a date with a guy.

It was…okay. The guy was a lot handsier than Steve would like, and kind of boring when compared to Eddie, but Steve just shrugged and figured that at least it’s be someone else’s hand this time. And it was okay. No great spark or anything. More of a glorified one night stand than anything, but it was fine.

He knew he needed to get out dating again. Girls and guys. His love for Eddie wasn’t abating at all, so he couldn’t bring himself to actually date anyone, but he could do hookups.

Which was how Eddie found him one day, mouth around some guy at a bar in Indy because they had forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Oops. It was a little annoying though that Eddie looked as upset as he did. He appreciated the fact that Eddie didn’t call him out for his unwanted feelings, but it wasn’t fair that he thought Steve shouldn’t be able to move on.

They got into a fight.

They never exactly said what they were fighting about with words, but Eddie yelled at him for having unsafe sex, while Steve yelled at him for being a hypocrite, and then Eddie yelled at him for leading the guy on, and Steve said that that was a bit rich coming from him.

And Eddie was yelling and yelling and yelling about who knows what, telling Steve he shouldn’t be having random hookups in bathrooms when he wasn’t even gay, and Steve yelled that bisexual men can have bathroom hookups too, and that seemed to surprise Eddie for some reason.

In any case, it caused him to shut up for long enough for Steve to angrily tell him that just because Steve loved him, it didn’t give him the right to tell Steve what he could or could not do, especially when he knew Eddie didn’t love him back.

And then…

“You…you love me?” Eddie choked out, his eyes wide as he stared across the dark alley outside the bar, where he’d dragged Steve after catching him on his knees.

Steve rolled his eyes, jutting out one hip to place a hand on while the other hand ran aggressively through his hair. It was started to rain while they were in the bar, a light drizzle that was slowly weighing down their hair, not that either of them paid it any mind.

“Jesus, Munson, are you really going to make me listen to the whole spiel again?” He rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in frustration. “This is bullshit, I’m bullshit, my love is bullshit, yadda yadda yadda. Or are we going the other way? The sad puppy eyes and the fact that you like someone else and it could never be me? I already know all this, Munson.”

Eddie continued gaping at Steve like a fish. It was starting to make him vaguely uncomfortable. Eddie shook his head, long strands of hair whipping wetly around him. “H-how long have you loved me?” Eddie whispered.

Steve’s frown deepened. “I don’t know, man. You probably clocked it before I even did. I just barely realized like a year and half ago.”

Eddie’s eyes bugged further. “You’ve love me for a year and a half?” he asked incredulously, making Steve’s frown turn from annoyance to confusion.

“You already knew this, Eddie.”

“I most certainly did not!”

And…oh. Oof. Okay. Steve grimaced and held his hands up suddenly in a surrender sort of way. “Yikes. Okay, well, this doesn’t have to change anythi—”

“This changes everything!” Eddie exclaimed in what others might cause a shriek.

Steve winced, taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. “Eddie…Eddie, please, c’mon,” he tried to reason, feeling dread settling in the pit of his stomach. He was suddenly remembering all the times he’d invaded Eddie’s space, how many times he’d flirted back with Eddie’s fake flirting, thinking it was okay because the other man knew how he felt.

Fuck. Fuck, he’d fucked up again.

“Eddie, I know you don’t love me, okay,” he rushed to say. “I know you can never love me. I get it, okay? I’m not trying to force you to feel any way or anything. Just like with Robin and Nancy, the fact that I like you doesn’t have to change anything.”

“Not…Steve,” Eddie said, reaching up to grip and pull at his own hair as an incredulous laugh escaped him. “Steve, I fucking love you.”

Steve tried not to let that hurt. He knew Eddie probably didn’t get how much him saying that pained Steve since it wasn’t the kind of love he was talking about, so he wasn’t going to get upset at him over that.

“I know,” he sighed, slowly letting himself relax his body posture. “I know you love me in a friend way. And that’s enough for me, really! I love you like a friend too, so the fact that I also—”

“No Steve,” Eddie cut in again, and while he seemed exasperated, a wide smile was also starting to curl over his lips. “Robin was right and you really are a dingus. I mean, yes, I love you as a friend, but I’m also in love with you. Romantic styles.”

“I…” Steve blinked. He tried to understand Eddie’s words but they didn’t make sense. “What?”

Eddie snorted out a laugh, and the smile curled on his lips stretched out into a grin. He took a step closer. “I’m in love with you, Steve Harrington. I have been since…hell, probably since you went all Ozzy on me. But definitely since I woke up in the hospital to you holding my hand.”

Steve’s stomach swooped. “I don’t understand,” he said, and even to his own ears there was a small whine there. “You don’t…people don’t love me,” he pointed out. “They can’t. There’s something about me that just makes it impossible.”

Eddie scoffed, reaching out once he was closer enough to curl his fingers in the sleeves at Steve’s biceps. They were both now well and truly wet from the rain, but neither of them paid any attention to it at all.

“Now that’s bullshit, Harrington. You’re so fucking easy to love. As a friend and as something…more. I love you, Steve.”

Steve wanted to deny it again, wanted to say that that was impossible, because…because he’d never heard those words. Sure, Dustin and Robin told him they loved him, but romantically? Even Nancy had never told him that in those words. Not even in a lie. He couldn’t fully comprehend that he was hearing them now.

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie breathed, his hands moving to cup Steve’s jaw. “I’m going to spend the rest of my life telling you that. You’re stuck with me now, big boy.”

And then Eddie kissed him.

Eddie was true to his words. He told Steve he loved him every single day, told him with his words and his actions and when it was legal, he told him again in front of all their friends and found family when he made a vow as a his husband.

And Steve? Well, it took a while for him for actually believe it, but nowadays? When Eddie kisses him good morning every day in bed, whispering his devotion, and every night doing the same, telling Steve he’ll see him in his dreams? Well…

Steve’s used to being loved. And he spends every day loving in return.

~

Hi hello I have no idea what this is but I just started typing and then I didn’t stop until this was completed lol

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[strangelysamantha]

photos ✧

jonathon byers x fem!reader.

warnings: filthy smut pls don’t read unless you are 18+, nudes, swearing, blowjob, p in v, graphic depiction of adult themes.

words: 1450,

summary: after a few too many drinks alone with jonathon byers, things get a little heated, and you get a little carried away.

request? no but i hope you enjoy anyway!

a/n: this is filthy but i love it and i have an idea for a part two 😈 possibly someone catches him with the sexually explicit photos… not proof read :-)

my masterlist

————————————————————————

you looked over at jonathan, waiting to hear joyce’s car drive away. you grin before making a run to the kitchen, raiding the cabinet of various alcohols. you guys hadn’t really drank anything before. but when you guys were talking yesterday, he mentioned how it would be a good way for the two of you to unwind. so that's what you guys did. together you guys downed shots, hating the taste and urgently wanting to get it over with, ready to completely let loose. it was just you and jonathan alone. he was laying down on his bed, the clash playing softly in the background to fill the comfortable silence.

he was watching you as you went around his room, admiring his posters and tiny gadgets. you enjoyed looking at his stuff, and it was even better because you felt drunk. you could tell jonathon wasn’t sober either. "babyyyy." he drags out getting your attention. "yes?" you question, acting like that word hardly affected you. "come hereeee." he whines. you walk over to his bed, stumbling a little. you join him on the bed, happy he wanted to talk to you. "i'm here." you look at him eagerly. he smirks. "good."

you thought for a second, his brown hair styled perfectly as his eyes lock with yours. you take a breath, letting the alcohol give you a boost of confidence to get on top of him, you began to straddle him. he inhales sharply obviously surprised by your recent movements. he sits up a little bit, and you start to move your hips in a rhythm to start something. “is this okay?” you ask. he nods excitedly, “this is perfect.” you kiss on his neck, softly sucking. trying not to leave any marks, knowing his mom might see them, instead of his neck, you move to his lips. you start making out with him, but quickly need to pull away for air, after a few seconds you go back in. you pulled away once more so you were able to take off his shirt, throwing it half hazardously to the floor. you swiftly take off your shirt and bra. his chest is on full display and your lips quickly find their way to him. he flips you over, taking control. he smirks, "hey baby, how would you feel if i took pictures of you right now?" your face is full of shock, but excitement brews in your belly. “i guess i wouldn't mind. i trust you." he thanks you, before grabbing his camera.

he snaps a picture of your bare boobs, then he wraps his hand tightly over your neck, you moan as he takes a picture. he groans under his breath.

he stands up to take off his pants, and you go to the edge of the bed and get down on your knees. you palm him through his underwear feeling how big he was. you tightly squeezed his dick and he let out a soft moan. he pulls his boxers down, and you start kissing the head of his cock. he snaps another picture of you with your lips around his hard on. he then put his camera down.

you licked his cock from the top of his shaft down to his balls. you hollow your cheeks as you take all of him inside your mouth. your tongue swirls as it's deep in your throat. you hum slightly and then continue to move your mouth up and down, he thrusted his hips forward and began to face fuck you. making direct eye contact with him you start gagging on him. you massage his balls. you hear groans fall from his lips. he pulled himself out of your mouth. "i want to feel inside you. i want to stretch out your walls." you moan softly as you realize how wet you were getting.

"do it then. stretch my tight pussy out, fuck me so hard. i need to feel you.” he stared deeply into your eyes, amazed by your words. he pulled your underwear off with one hand. the other was tight on your thigh. he took one finger, and felt from your clit to your core. "baby, you are dripping wet. all from me?" he then takes his tongue and begins to lick your clit. "please- please-" you struggled to find the right words from the pleasure jonathan was giving you. he had stuck 3 fingers inside, pumping in and out, all while licking and sucking on your pussy. he pulled his mouth away, but still slowly pumped in and out. "please what, baby?" he asked you. you were very flustered. "i need you." he smirked at your words.

“how about we do this?" he positioned himself at your entrance. you lay on your back, legs lifted as he aligned himself with you. he stared into your eyes as he slowly put the tip in. watching your face to make sure you were okay. you grimace in pain as he filled you up. he slowly put himself all the way in. "wait." you whimper softly. jonathan waits, knowing it hurts. after a few moments you adjust, you moan, and that's his key to start thrusting. "h-holy fuck!" he exclaims, "your pussy is fucking tight, oh my god." he moans loudly as he slides in and out of you at a fast pace. "right there. oh my god yes! don't stop!" you feel so euphoric. he leans down and kisses you on the lips, before he speeds up on fucking your pussy. he grabs your legs, gripping your thighs as he positions them on his shoulder, allowing his cock to hit deeper inside your pussy. he freed one of his hands, grabbing your throat and squeezes tightly. then after a minute, he let go of your throat and moved to your boobs. "oh yeah? do you like me stretching out your pretty tight pussy?" he made you a moaning mess. he was still going at a fast pace. you kept whimpering as you felt your stomach fill with butterflies. your heart was pounding. you had been doing this for quite sometime. you gasp slightly; "i'm about to-." jonathan was making direct eye contact with you. "cum. do it. cum so hard baby." your pussy tightens around him, and you moan loudly as your legs shakes.

you release all over jonathan's fat cock, riding out your orgasm. jonathan pulls out of you and starts to jerk his cock. you eagerly stop his hand and replace it with your mouth, deep throating him, "i'm about to cum baby, keep going.” moans fall from his lips. you pull him out of your mouth desperate to watch his load. you jerk him. sticking your tongue out waiting for his cum. "cum, cum so hard on my face. i want it.. i need it jonathan." he moaned at your words. his dick twitches and his white load shoots out. he's a mess. "holy shit, that felt so fucking good." his load landed all over your tongue and on your rosy cheeks. he quickly grabs his camera and snaps a photo of you with his white liquid is painted all over your face. you stare at his eyes while you swallow all of the load that landed on your tongue. you use your fingers to wipe up some that landed on your face and you suck on your fingers staring into his eyes. he stares, watching in awe. "mmm you taste so good." you smile and watch, waiting for his next move. "baby?" he asks you. "yes?" he paused a moment. "that was probably the best thing i've ever done." you giggle. you also want to kiss him, but you don't know if he wants to be kissed. he kisses your nose, and then your mouth. you grab one of his shirts and some underwear, and then hurry to the bathroom. you quickly do your business, cleaning your face as well. you jump back into bed with him, he dresses back in boxers, and pajama pants, with no shirt. "baby-." you were scared at what he was going to say "yes?" you answered back. "what exactly are we?" you paused for a moment. "well, jon do you like me?" a smile appeared on his face. "yes i like you," you licked your lips. "well we could become something more than friends if you want." he pauses for a moment. "yeah, i'd like that." you lean down and kiss him. you’re now dating jonathan byers. you wait for him to adjust and get comfortable, you lay on his chest, his arms wrapped around you tight. the two of you doze off, peaceful in each others arms.

🩷🩷🩷

[love-byers]

10 likes and i'll free mike's boyfriend so they can be together

[s9fti3]

‘I can fix him!!’

Him in question;

[strangerthingsmademebi]

✨Masterlist✨

I write for Stranger Things characters 

Fluff 💗

Angst 💔

                             ~ Chrissy Cunningham ~ 

Wicked Game   💗💔

Summary:  You and Chrissy have been dating for a few months but when senior prom comes around you know you can’t go together. So you came up with a plan that will allow you to spend the night with the love of your life even if that means having to see Jason Carver dance with your girl .

                                    ~ Series~ 

Mind Over Matter

fem!adoptedhopper/byersreader X Undecided 

Summary: after the events of summer 1985 Y/N is left alone to deal with the aftermath of her adoptive father dying in a “mall fire” and her best friend who was more like her brother moving away to California in search of an Upside Down free life. But when the nightmares won`t stop and killings start its up to Y.N and the gang to save the world. Again. But will she survive after barely escaping countless near misses?

Prologue (coming soon) 

Chapter 1 

[ghost-proofbaby]

I love the idea of Eddie having an especially grueling day at work his friend (they have mutual feelings but nothing has been said) offers to give him a massage. Eddie is genuinely grateful but also vv flustered by the end!!

listen. LISTEN. i know this got out of hand. i know i said these were going to stay short n sweet. i know what i said and promised. but. listen. you can't hand me a prompt that is just so delicious, with so much potential to sprinkle in a light dusting of angst, and to give me the chance to garnish with a beautiful open ending full of promise, and not expect a monster of a product to come from it. you just can't. i'm sorry. i hope you enjoy this, regardless. even if it's not quite bite-sized.

warnings: seemingly unrequited love that turns into clearly idiots in love. eddie gets shirtless. that's all.

wc: 4.4k+ yikes

It had started off as an innocent, well-intentioned offer. You swear it did. 

When Eddie had called you right after pulling a double at the garage, begging to come over and simply relax at your apartment, you’d set up to allow him to do just that. You’d cleaned up a little bit, lit a candle that normally gave you a headache if it burned too long but that Eddie loved, prepped a selection of movies for him to choose from, pulled out the menu for your favorite take-out – you’d gone the whole nine yards for your best friend. 

Someone might even point out it wasn’t just best friend behavior at this point. Steve and Robin alike had certainly called out your behavior at times, coining it as “girlfriend behavior on a best friend salary”.

You didn’t care. You were well aware of what you were doing, and you didn’t care. 

You’d spend the rest of your life on the best friend salary, as the two dinguses had so lovingly called it, for the look of sheer peace on Eddie’s face right now. 

He’s leaning back on the opposite end of your couch from you, knees spread and chin facing the ceiling as he sighs in bliss. Take-out containers are scattered about the coffee table, and his movie of choice of Return of the Jedi is about halfway over on your TV. 

You both had already chosen a second movie – The Lost Boys. The plans for the night were set in stone.

You tuck both knees up beneath your chin, side-glancing your best friend for a second and ignoring the flutter of your chest as you watch him sink deeper into the cushions, “We can talk about it, y’know.” 

“Hm?” 

“Your day,” you adjust a bit, turning your body to face him fully, “If you wanna talk about it, I’m all ears. We’ve already seen enough Jabba the Hutt to last a lifetime.”

That earns a smile from him, slowly crackling over his cheeks as he rolls his head towards you, “I dunno. Is there such thing as enough Jabba the Hutt?” 

You toss a piece of your sour watermelon candy at him, and despite it landing on his shirt, he still grabs it to pop it into his mouth. 

You try not to think too hard about how that shirt had been sitting in your drawers, clean and neatly folded, occupying space as if that might be normal. As if everyone has some of their best friend’s clothes at their apartment that they can change into after a long day at work. 

As if everyone has occasionally used said shirt as pajamas on nights they particularly miss the scent of their best friend’s cologne.

“Shut up,” you finally snicker, dropping your knees from your chin, sitting criss-cross now, “We don’t have to talk about your day if you don’t feel like it. By all means, if you wanna keep drooling over an alien slug, be my guest-”

At your teasing, Eddie moves quickly to grab one of your ankles, pulling your feet towards his lap before you can register what he’s doing. You gasp a little, and it’s definitely not because of the feeling of his warm palms wrapped around your bare skin. Totally not at the rush of warmth that travels up your body, head to toe, when you feel his rings pressing into you so eagerly. 

Absolutely not. You gasp, because anybody would gasp in this scenario. Because you’re just best friends. And best friends do stuff like that. 

“I am not drooling over a slug,” he chastises, grinning recklessly as he wiggles his fingers menacingly, mere inches from the bottom of your foot, “Take it back, or pay the price, baby.” 

Has he ever called you baby before? 

Certainly not, if your roaring heart has anything to say about it. 

“Don’t you dare,” you squeal – genuinely squeal – as you try and tug your legs out of his grasp. It’s a useless effort; he’s too strong, even after his long day, and your body isn’t even sure if it approves of taking his hands off of you. “Edward Munson, I swear to God-” 

It’s a mess of flailing limbs, painful laughter, and high-pitched screams from there. Squeaks from your own mouth, and a few from Eddie, mocking you all in good fun as he continues to persist for you to take it back. For just a moment, it feels like this is the normal – you’re living in a space where Eddie comes home from every day, grueling or effortless, to you. Where the two of you always end up on the couch together, bodies touching in any way they can. Where there’s always background noise on the TV as his focus is solely on you, smiling foolishly at his antics that were really just a simple effort to hear your laughter. Where your laughter is the only thing he really wants to hear at the end of the night, and it’s the greatest thing he’s ever heard. 

A world where he tells you as much. 

A world where after this, he’s reaching the knob of your shared bedroom door rather than the front door of your lonesome apartment. 

A world where you aren’t existing on a best friend salary.

“Had enough yet, sweetheart?” he quips, just as breathless as you are from the struggle. This time, the nickname he uses is normal. It took you off guard during the first few months of friendship, but now? Your weary heart could handle it, cherish it even, and not let your stupid little crush get in the way of appreciating it. “All you have to say are the magic words.” 

“Are the magic words, you’re a dickhead?”

“Hm,” he pretends to ponder thoughtfully for just a second before shaking his hand, “‘Fraid not. Try again?” 

Instead of verbally replying, you give him a gentle kick in the stomach. Not the magic words he had in mind, but they sure do the trick. 

He lets out a soft oomph, one arm cradling his midsection as though you actually hurt him. You take it as your cue to remove your legs – his dramatics quickly come to a halt to prevent just that.

It’s probably meant to be subtle, the way both his arms fall down over your calves and keep your feet in his lap, but it has the capability to implode your entire world. 

“I can’t believe you’re being mean to me after the day I’ve had,” he whines, and all you can focus on is the way his thumb is rhythmically stroking the ball of your ankle now, “Me, your best friend, has had the most awful day and you-”

“Now you wanna talk about it?” you laugh a little, rolling your eyes at him.

“Absolutely.” 

“After you’ve just tortured me?” 

“Well, yeah. When else would I talk about it?” 

“I’m rescinding my offer to listen,” you continue to joke, making one more good faith offer to slip your legs from his lap. And, once more, he won’t allow it. 

He whines out a long, drawn out no, starting to lay his entire body across your legs this time. More direct, more to the point. Subtleties have been forgotten, you suppose. 

You don’t know if it’s more for you, or for him. You just know you like it. You like existing within a sneak preview of a girlfriend salary.

“You never answered me, drama queen,” you murmur as the joking lean across your legs becomes a bit more heavy, and Eddie is more genuinely collapsing his figure into your lap. He doesn’t even have to ask, or gesture – your fingers find home within his hair, and you can feel his hum of content against your thigh as you scratch along his scalp, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

All joking pretenses slip away from him as he mumbles out a muffled, “Not really.”

And you can work with that. You swear, you can. 

If you’d been so ready to lend a listening ear, then you can offer him this peace and quiet. A simple head massage as he leans into you, cheeks pressed to the top of your thigh as you think he returns to watching Return of the Jedi. 

His eyes might be closed, if his heavy breaths are anything to go off of. You’re just not sure. 

You just keep up your massage, sluggish strokes, clement scratches, deep breaths to match his own- 

And then, an idea hits you.

“Eds,” you whisper, your hand in his hair traveling to his shoulders, shaking him a bit, “Eddie.”

Only a grunt in response.

“Eddie, seriously, get up,” you stress, overeager, “I have an idea.”

“The apartment better be on fire,” he grumbles as he finally raises his head, face imprinted with the lines of your shorts in rolling hills of soft indents. 

Definitely was sleeping. Definitely wasn’t watching Star Wars. 

But even with his shoulders wrapped with dreary slumber, you’re still excited about your idea, motioning him to sit up fully. You let him take his time, of course, only after he swats your hands away sluggishly a few times. 

Once his back is straight, you lift one finger in the air, and draw a circle – motioning for him to turn his back to you without saying a word. 

His eyes narrow to slits at you, “Are you about to pull a prank on me? Because-”

“I’m not,” you assure him, reaching for his shoulders, nearly turning him yourself, “Scout’s honor.” 

He listens to you. Despite it all, despite his seeming mistrust, he turns his back to you. More specifically, he turns his shoulders to you. 

He’s still mumbling on about how you better not make his day worse, getting a little bit snappier when you gather his hair up to lay out of your way and claiming his scalp was extra sensitive today.

You pay his attitude no mind. He’s just grumpy. It doesn’t particularly phase you after years of close friendship.

“Listen, I know you like braiding my hair, but-” he continues with his protests as you grin behind him, shaking your head as you settle yourself closer to him. Knees bumping his hips, back straight for the time being. “I’d rather just nap right now. And I was really comfy, and really getting my rocks off to that damn alien slug-” 

All his words cut off when you finally put your plan into action. Your palms fall atop his shoulders, fingers curling around the tense skin, and he’s melting before you’ve even begun. 

“I- Oh,” he jumps a little at the first squeeze, but quickly returns to being pliant in your hold, “Oh… That’s…. That’s nice.” 

You continue your massage, gently squeezing, thumbs and fingers digging into any knots you find to work them away as you jeer, “Is it now?”

He nods, the smallest of movements as to not interrupt your work, “It is. ‘S real nice.” 

His head rolls with each pinch of your fingers, posture loosening as he leans back into your touch further. 

You take it a step further, biting back nerves when you slip your hands beneath the collar of his old t-shirt. You feel the shiver begin before it races down his spine at the press of your skin directly on his now. 

Your warm hands work dutifully, determined to bring as much relaxation to your best friend as possible. Definitely not enjoying yourself a bit too much at his smooth skin under your palms. Definitely not enjoying yourself just as much as he is. Certainly not. 

The shirt constricts you, though. Prevents your hands from traveling fully over sore spots you can feel the edges of. Catching your wrists, limiting the full potential of your movements. 

You’re glad he can’t see you as you suddenly request, “Take your shirt off.” 

“Hm?” he can’t form a proper word at first, not startled but simply sunken too deep in his relaxation, “What was that?” 

“I need your shirt off, Munson.” 

You try to sound brave, nonchalant, as you repeat yourself. You don’t want him to hear the fluttering of your heart – you don’t want him to hear the shake of your hands as you remove them from him.

You only want him to hear the totally reasonable request from a friend, who is simply trying to offer the best massage possible to their best friend who’s had a bad day. 

“Oh?” he looks over his shoulder, and you can see the edges of his raised brows through messy bangs, “Damn, sweetheart. If you wanted me naked, you just had to ask.” 

Can ribs break from a heart beating too fast? Is that even possible? 

“I did ask,” your voice is flat as a trade off to avoid any quivering to filtrate it, lips pressing tightly together as you swallow your heart, “So get to it.”

He leans forward, putting a bit of distance between you two before he reaches back to grab the center of his shirt. The fabric comes off with a flourish, and all you’re left face to face with is the bare expanse of his back.

You silently beg him not to look back over his shoulder, if only for just a second. 

You’ve seen Eddie shirtless plenty of times. At pool parties with the entire group, on rare lake days that always ended sun drunk and giddy, that one time he’d answered his door right after a quick shower and you’d seen a lot more than you’d bargained for. He was your friend. After a while, it would have been weirder to not have seen Eddie shirtless at least once. 

Something about this time feels different. 

He has freckles – not nearly as much as Steve or Robin, but they still exist. Small markings across skin glowing warmly in the dim light of your living room lamp, spattered without rhyme or reason. One on the back of his left shoulder, another slightly off-centered at the base of his neck. He has a light scar towards the bottom of his right shoulder blade – a memory from his childhood he told you once when you’d first seen it at the lake. Everyone else was out splashing about the ten-degrees-too-cool water, and he’d joined your side on the shore. Laid on his stomach as you laid on your back, offering you conversation in the form of stories about every blemish across his skin. The intentional tattoos, the unintentional scars. Everything. 

Even that day doesn’t quite compare to the intimacy of him being here now, being shirtless in your apartment, just the two of you. 

Maybe there was something extra in your coffee this morning, making you feel so delusional. 

“I don’t have any lotion or oils,” you finally clear your throat, trying to joke about as the two of you had been before, “But that doesn’t matter. You ready for the best damn massage of your life, Munson?” 

“Yes, please,” he groans, and something deep in your stomach clenches at the sound, “Want me to lay down or something?” 

Your brain short-circuits for a second, because you know where that leads. 

If he lays down, there’s only one way to continue to comfortably give him the massage. If he lays down, you’re about to bite off more than you could chew on a best friend salary. 

“Sure,” you choke out, damning yourself in the process. 

It’s all robotic mechanics as you two shift to assume the position; you stand up, and he sprawls out. And you swear, in the process, you catch a smothering of pink slow creeping across his chest and neck. 

“Can I…” you start to question, finally growing a bit shy as you stare down at the dip of his lower back. Two dimples on either side of his spine, looking so inviting and yet daunting. 

He finishes the sentence for you, saving you the embarrassment, “Sit on me? Yeah, go for it, babe.” 

There it is again. An unfamiliar nickname that falls so effortlessly off the lips for him. Another pet name to send you into a tailspin as your breath catches and your heart races, as though needing to catch up after the fleeting endearment.

“Thanks,” you whisper out. 

You’re starting to regret all your choices, but it’s too late to back down now. You just want to help him relax – that’s all this is. 

Stop making this more than it is. 

You’re exceptionally careful as you crawl over Eddie, placing a knee on either side of him, hovering for just a second as you take deep breaths to hype yourself up to do the inevitable. 

He twists a bit, startling you enough for you to balance yourself with a palm on each shoulder blade, “C’mon now, you’re not going to crush me. You should know this by now,” his eyes glitter, and you know he’s referring to that time you two made a bet he couldn’t carry you bridal style while drunk. He could, “Sit your pretty ass down and get to work, Masseuse.” 

You weren’t imagining the pink across his chest and neck. It’s climbed up now, tendrils tickling his cheeks. The bridge of his nose nearly looks sunburnt from this angle. 

It’s a good look on him. 

“Masseuse?” you snort as you shove him to be fully laying down once more, needing to get his eyes off of you for just a second, “That’s an awfully big word. You been reading without me or something? Becoming a secret genius?” 

Fall back into the normal flow of things. Try not to think about the heat of him between your legs as you sit half your weight down. 

“That is not a big word,” he chides. 

“Spell it, then.” 

“I-” he cuts off as your hands smooth back over his skin, no more restrictions. 

He never finishes his sentence, never complies with your request. All that falls from his lips are soft sighs as you begin the massage again. 

There’s an occasional twitch below his muscles as you knead away, slowly but surely becoming more comfortable with it all. Becoming more mesmerized as you can now see his skin moving with you, occasionally letting up when you skirt past freckles and scars alike, fingertips merely tracing them as he shivers under your delicate touch. 

You do exactly as you set out to do – you relax him. And then some.

You’ve never really gotten into the art of massages, something about it always feeling a bit too intimate. You’d never consider yourself a professional at it by any means – if anything, you’ve been on the receiving end rather than the giving end more often than not. And even those occurrences were rare. 

But when it came to Eddie, it seemingly came naturally. 

Not all of your movements are conventional. You pass back and forth between the usual squeezes of skin you’ve witnessed on TV and from others, and gentle tracing of your fingertips. Drawing shapes, painting pictures that vanish without ever having existed in the first place. Words, sentences, secret messages for just you two. 

When you trace out the endearment of idiot, Eddie seems to catch on, lazy grin peeking up past his curtain of hair covering the cheek almost facing you. 

In another place, where you make that coveted girlfriend salary, you’d trace out three little words on the tip of your tongue. 

You almost do it, too. It’s when you trace out idiot, in fact. You start, entirely subconsciously, with the i. A long pause, a space between words. 

And then you trace an l. One long line down the center of his spine. 

Your finger is already rotating for the o, ready to trace it in the center as the other two letters had been, a signalling it wasn’t a part of that last simple line. 

And then you divert. And you rush to finish out with the i, the o, the t. He laughs a little, the rush of air felt below you as he lets it out soundlessly, and you catch sight of his smile.

A seeming endearment to Eddie, a hidden scolding for yourself. 

Maybe one day you can find the nerve to properly trace it out – or better yet, say it. Speak your truth outloud and handle whatever consequences come from it. Because you do – you really, really do mean it – and those feelings for Eddie can’t seem to change. Something carved into your very soul, unchanging as the years pass. If anything, the carving only digs deeper into you with each month you spend with him. 

One day. But not today, not when Eddie’s had a bad day. It should be a good day when you say it, lessening the blow of rejection, hopefully. 

You almost lose your balance a few times. Each time having to adjust your position of sitting on him, shifting his hips right along with yours. And each time, you notice the catch in his sighs. The way they almost transform into moans, tense noises that seemingly tear from his throat, only dampened by poor attempts to conceal them. Even the back of his neck has grown flushed now, the tips of his ears vibrant when you see them poke through his hair. 

Sometimes, you lose your balance from his shifting, even. 

The air is sticky with tension as you finally finish up. It could have been ten minutes, it could have been an hour – you weren’t keeping score, more focused on continuing on until Eddie’s entire body has gone boneless beneath you. 

Pretty, and pink, and pliant. Entirely slackened beneath your touches. 

It takes more to encourage yourself to climb off of him than it did to climb on originally. Your body protests entirely, knees not caring for the ache forming, inner thighs happy to be bracketing his hips. But you do it. Because you’re just a friend, a best friend, helping your friend relax. 

You stand, towering over him, looking down to find him hiding his face just a bit. “Well?” 

“Well, what?” his voice is entirely muffled by his mouthful of couch cushion, and you furrow your brows. 

“How was it?” 

He lifts his face strategically. He probably hopes you don’t notice, but you do, “Oh! Oh, it was, uh- It was fucking great, sweetheart. I… I swear, your hands are fucking magic.” 

Why is he tripping over his words like that? 

He can’t even look you in the eyes, line of sight darting anywhere but you.

Why is he flushed, head to toe? 

“Yeah?” you cross your arms, and subtly lean to block the TV now displaying credits that Eddie found terribly interesting, “Would you consider it the best massage you’ve ever had?” 

He nods, and you catch the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows before squeaking out, “Oh, yeah! The absolute best I’ve ever had,” his eyes widen at his words, as if he’s made a terrible choice that you’re unaware of, “I mean, you know, I just- you should really consider becoming an actual masseuse.”

That’s when it hits you; Eddie is absolutely refusing to sit up. To remove his hips from your couch. 

He’s blushing, and he’s stuttering, and he’s definitely hiding something. 

There’s a twist in your gut that you can’t reveal. A satisfaction you know better than to celebrate right now. 

Instead, you decide to play with him just a little bit more. 

“Good,” you nod, stepping towards the end of the couch you’d originally occupied. Where Eddie’s knees are stiff against. “Maybe I will consider a career change. But for now – move, Munson. I’m just exhausted.” 

“What?” he looks at you, frightened, only moving his neck to keep his hips flush and hidden away. 

“Get your legs out of my seat,” you laugh a little, leveling him with a daring stare. 

You know what he’s hiding. You’re a bit proud of it, too. 

“Oh, yeah,” he says slowly, and you can see him going over his options in his head. A million excuses he’s probably conjuring, a hundred different escape plans he’s grasping at. “Yeah, of course.” 

And, just as you’d suspected, he doesn’t go with a single one to save his dignity. 

He moves quickly. Tucking his legs up and twisting himself into an upright position in the blink of an eye, and immediately grabbing one of your throw pillows that two of you had tossed off into the floor amidst the original movie night plans. 

He’s fast, you’ll give him that. But not fast enough for you to not catch sight of the tent in his pants. 

You don’t let your eyes linger too long. Swallow down any drooling threatening to begin. Tamper down any desire flaring in your chest and between your hips. 

Best friend salary, you remind yourself even as you grin a tad bit too salaciously for your current cover. Best friend salary, not girlfriend salary. 

You plop down on the seat still warm from Eddie’s legs, sinking back in self-satisfaction. Maybe you had been wrong. Maybe it doesn’t have to be another time, or place, or Universe to get what you want. Maybe all your delusion, that wild imagination of yours, wasn’t so misplaced after all. 

Best friend salary, your mind whispers. For now.

Eddie makes himself comfortable right along with you, still seeming in a much better condition than when he’d first arrived, even if his cheeks had bloomed into a rose garden. He presses that throw pillow of yours protectively over his crotch, and once more focuses on the screen in front of you two. 

“Say, Eddie,” you drawl, almost radiant with your grin. A fire now lit inside both of you. “Think you could be a doll and pop in the next movie for me?” 

It’s a little evil, you’ll admit. But he kind of deserves it for underpaying you over the years, when it’s so clear you’re due for a promotion. Sometime soon, you hope. 

Both your heads turn to each other at the same time, wildly different speeds. Eddie’s neck snaps in disbelief, while you take your time to make eye contact.

All it takes is one knowing look exchanged, and the illusion fumbles on its stilts. 

“I…” his embarrassment, all that flush, slowly morphs as he catches the truth behind your intentions. The hand pressing down on the throw pillow alleviates just a bit, stiff shoulders relaxing as they should have been after your massage as he reflects back just as evil of a glint in his eyes as you had, “Sure thing, baby.”

It’s probably going to be a long night. Surely, the promotion of best friend to girlfriend is going to involve some paperwork. Or an interview, to prove your capability and experience first hand, of course.

But, well, he never did put his shirt back on, did he?