#Strangers Things imagine

[j2hoes]

Intimate Treasures. (Steve Harrington x Adult Store Worker!Reader)

Word Count: 4.5K

Y/N works in an adult store and Steve can't seem to stay away.

Warning: Smut, p in v sex, cunnilingus (m and f receiving), dirty talk, knife kink, sex toys, mature language

Weekdays were always slow at Intimate Treasures, most people either working their regular 9-5’s or simply too embarrassed to be caught in an adult store mid week. Opting to discreetly shop on a Friday or Saturday night, hoping nobody will catch them. I often find myself amused by the actions of our customers, ninety percent of which seem to be ashamed of themselves for purchasing such ‘dirty’ products, as they like to call them.

Upon the opening of the store, many citizens of Hawkins were vocal of their displeasure at the presence of such a place. Believing that there was no place in the town for us. They argued that by opening within the Starcourt Mall, we would be indoctrinating their children into believing that sex is something that should be enjoyed and explored freely. Rather than an act of love that should only be taking place once married for the sole purpose of reproduction. There have been numerous occasions when I’ve argued with people about this, lecturing them on the importance of sexual liberation and safety rather than shaming people for their choices.

It was during one of these arguments that I met him for the first time. Wrapped up in a heated debate with none other than the local priest who was offering to save me from hell, I almost missed the mop of fluffy brown hair that hesitantly crossed the threshold of the store. He was trying to act casual, as though being here was no big deal, but I could tell he was nervous. Fumbled movements causing him to almost knock over a display of free condoms. To which he pocketed a few in the shorts of his little sailor outfit.

“What you are doing here in this store is sinful, I am only looking out for you young lady.” My eyes snap back to the priest who is glancing around the place in utter disgust, one hand gripping the cross around his neck, the other clutching a Bible.

“If you think this is sinful, you should see what I do in bed, old man.”

Despite losing sight of the sailor, I hear a muffled laugh coming from down one of the aisles and I can’t help but feel pleased that I’m not necessarily alone in this argument.

“You could be doing so much more with your life! You don’t need this filth, the Lord can set you on the right path if you would just let me cleanse you of your impurity.” The man pleads, his words failing to provide the impact he is hoping for.

Resting my elbows on the countertop, I lean towards the priest, hoping he pays attention to me. “Listen, I know for a fact that the Bible doesn’t specifically mention anything about sex toys or masturbation and not all of us are lucky enough to be in a relationship. Though I’m sure your wife isn’t exactly thrilled with her sex life.” 

He gasps at my words, shuffling towards the door whilst muttering about ‘young dirty girls of today’. 

“Be sure to send your wife in, her first vibrator is on me!”

As the door swings closed behind him, I let out a sigh of relief. Completely fed up of having the same arguments over and over again. My eyes fall back down to the stack of boxes by my feet, filled to the brim with new lingerie sets that need putting out on the shop floor. 

Not wanting to waste any time, I quickly add the inventory to the system before hanging the black latex to the hangers. I won’t deny, it’s a gorgeous set. Shiny black bralette, so thin that the strap of fabric is only big enough to cover the nipple, with a matching thong, which also happens to be just as small. It leaves very little to the imagination, and I would be tempted to spend my paycheck on it, had I anybody to wear it for.

Finding a spot in one of the aisles, I begin to hang the various sizes on the wall. Careful to make sure that they’re all in size order so that they’re easy to find. A shuffle of feet towards the end of the aisle pulls me from my thoughts, the sailor intently staring at different wand vibrators. Every few seconds picking one up before putting it back with a shake of his head.

“Need some help?” I ask, hanging the last of the lingerie up and strolling towards him.

His eyes widen as I stand next to him, a deep red blush rising on his cheeks and I can’t help but smile softly at his awkwardness. I’m never one to assume, though I’m fairly certain this may be his first time in any adult stores. If his blush is anything to go by.

“Sorry, I just don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

“Something for your girlfriend?” I push, the question slips off my tongue easily, one I generally ask all the male customers that look in need of assistance, yet something in me is praying that he answers with a no.

I won’t deny that he’s attractive, even with the unfortunate attire that he appears to be sporting. He has a boyish look about him due to the costume, it’s cute and soft. However, his chestnut brown eyes are dark and I can tell that he is very much a man. 

“No, no girlfriend.” He admits, shoving his hands in his pockets, as he does so I’m able to catch a quick glimpse and notice the large size, backs of his palms displaying very prominent veins and I can’t help but squeeze my legs at the sight.

I’m not entirely sure what’s wrong with me. Never usually finding someone so attractive upon meeting for the first time, yet I’m practically drooling over the man in front of me. Even if I am putting on a very cool front.

“This is kind of awkward to admit but I wanted a vibrator you know for when I do have girls over. Just for something different I guess, in case my performance doesn’t cut it.”

I’m taken aback by his admission, most men refusing to believe they couldn’t be absolutely incredible in bed and insisting they’re only getting a toy because their wife wouldn’t stop pestering. To have a man so open about possibly not being perfect is refreshing and I realize I’m most definitely going to need some ice cold water then this customer leaves.

“Oh wow, that’s so thoughtful of you.” I tell him, moving slightly closer to the wall of products in order to assist him as best I can. Carefully, I grab a hot pink box, offering it to him. “So this is the newest wand vibrator we have, it has three different settings and a very long battery life. Trust me any girl would love it, it only took me about five minutes to cum when I used it for the first time.”

His eyes are focused on the box, teeth catching his bottom lip as he reads the information on the back. Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, truly reading everything about the product in his hands. Something about him intrigues me, whether it be the sailor outfit or the fact that he truly cares about his sexual partners, I’m not sure.

“I’ll take it, thank you.”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The second time that the interesting sailor entered the store was only two days later. A Thursday evening, most of the stores in the mall were closing for the day, not us however. Opting to stay open later for more of a sense of privacy.

I’m idly flipping through one of the latest editions of Playboy magazine, staring down at the women sprawled out on the pages. They ooze confidence and sex appeal, something I could only dream of. Whilst I wouldn’t say I necessarily lack confidence, I most certainly do not have a string of guys desperate for my attention like the women in the magazine.

Completely wrapped up in my own thoughts as I turn the page, it’s only when a handful of products are placed on the countertop that I glance up. Boredom evident on my face, I’m counting down the minutes until I can close the store and head home for the night. That is, until I realize who the customer is.

“I didn’t think girls were into Playboy.”

Running a hand through his perfectly styled brown mane, he smiles at me as he speaks and I struggle to hide my excitement at his return. Though there is still a hint of red on his cheeks, he seems calmer this time, clearly less embarrassed by his visit.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but we don’t exactly stock academic reading material.” I joke, beginning to ring the items through the till.

Bottle of lube, metal handcuffs and black bondage tape. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no stranger to the kinky items that I ring out on a daily basis. Yet, something about the handsome sailor buying them has me weak at the knees and I have to look anywhere other than his face as I bag everything for him.

“Hey, I just wanted to thank you by the way.” Finally making eye contact with the man, I can’t hide my confusion at his words. “For your help last time, the vibrator was a big hit.”

“Oh right yeah. No problem at all, I’m glad I could offer my assistance.”

My smile falters, why am I jealous? I shouldn’t be jealous, I should be pleased that I could help another customer. Pleased that I’m allowing others to enjoy their wants and desires. However, something about knowing the stranger has already used my suggestion on another woman hurts. I sound desperate, it’s not like me to get hung up on a man I have only briefly interacted with twice and yet here I am.

“No seriously, it was the most intense hook up I’ve ever had and it’s all thanks to you.” He rummages through his pockets as he speaks, before sliding a piece of paper across the countertop.

Free ice cream on me - Steve.

“I work at Scoops Ahoy, figured I owed you one.”

“Now the sailor outfit makes sense.” I laugh softly, carefully folding the piece of paper and slipping it into my pocket.

“I know. It sucks, does not help me woo the ladies at all.” He smiles bashfully, handing me the cash to pay for the products.

“I think it’s cute.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop myself and my head drops to the floor, shaking it lightly, humiliated by what I just said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean, it’s just-”

“Good to know, I’ll see you later.” He looks at me expectantly, awaiting my name, as he makes his way towards the exit.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll see you later Y/N.”

The moment the door closes behind him, I slide to the carpeted floor, head in my hands, afraid I may have just completely made a fool of myself in front of Steve. Doing my best to get over how mortified I feel, I quickly stride to the door and flip the sign to closed, not wanting to humiliate myself further in front of any more customers tonight, even if I am technically supposed to be open for another hour and a half.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I swear to God John, if you take these home and add them to your wank bank, I am going to kill you with my bare hands.”

This week seems to be one embarrassing event after the next, standing in nothing but the new micro black latex lingerie, I pose awkwardly in front of the only blank wall in the building, allowing the store owner to take photos of me on the polaroid. 

“Listen, we need to advertise what we have on offer, putting these pictures in the window is bound to gain more customers. Not to mention the added benefit of being served by the hot girl plastered in the window.” He states as though it's obvious, shoving a large kitchen knife into my hand which I take reluctantly. “Now spread those legs and lick the knife.”

Dropping to a squat, I spread my legs wide open, raising the knife to my mouth and seductively licking a stripe down the edge, careful not to cut myself. I may as well be completely naked with how little the lingerie covers, moving the knife to cover my vagina, I feign a gasp as he snaps another photo.

“You’re a natural, I’ll put these in the window and then I’m off for the night.”

I throw the knife on to the counter as I watch with folded arms how John sticks up the photos by the door. No doubt we’ll have complaints as each photo has me in increasingly compromised positions. It’s borderline pornographic.

Catching glimpses of the photos every couple of seconds, I can admit that I do look good. Incredibly good. They’re sexy and I feel empowered, it’s just a shame that they have to be on display for everybody to see. I’m all for being sexually liberated, I’m just not sure I believe everybody should be allowed to see me in such a vulnerable environment.

John leaves with a quick wave in my direction, flipping the sign on his way out so that I can finish my closing tasks in peace. Throwing myself down on the couch beside the window, I feel the shame start to flood my body. I begin to feel dirty and used, allowing my boss to take advantage of the fact that I have to follow his orders. 

Is this how the women in Playboy feel? Never once have I questioned if selling dirty magazines is unethical, believing that the woman in them felt free and proud that they can be so open and sexual. Now I’m starting to think that perhaps that isn’t the case.

With my head resting against the back of the couch and my eyes fixated on the uneven tiles on the ceiling, I hear the door click open beside me. Internally sighing, I don’t avert my gaze as I speak.

“We’re closed!” Voice snappier than I intended it to be, however, I make no effort to apologize.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just hoping you’d be here.”

Swinging my head to face the direction of the door, I match the voice to the speaker. Steve stands awkwardly in the entryway, eyes trailing over my body as I stand to greet him. His mouth drops open slightly, rubbing a hand over his plump cherry lips. Glancing down, I remember that I’m still only wearing the lingerie and heat floods my body.

“Shit, sorry. One second.” 

I awkwardly jog to the back of the store as best I can in the heels strapped to my feet, I’m careful to wrap the long satin robe tightly around myself before making my way back over to Steve. Who stands in the same spot, unmoving. Eyes focused on me as I lean against the counter, arms crossed over my body in an effort to keep the robe covering me.

“So what can I help you with?” I ask, voice shaking every so slightly due to the interaction only moments ago.

“You look incredible in that.”

Although my eyes are firmly fixated on the ground, I smile nervously at his words. Hearing the shuffle of his feet, I look up only to see him standing just a couple of feet away from me. Clad in his sailor uniform once again, I allow myself to gaze over his physique. Thick legs that wear the shorts well, tight in all the right places. Arms defined showing off the muscles he has built. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I round the counter, hoping that the distance between us will ease the ache between my thighs.

“Steve I really should be closing, did you need help with something?”

I notice his eyes fall to his shorts, an impressive tent having formed and I have to hold my breath so as not to drop straight to my knees. Without a word, he slowly reaches across the counter, gently knocking the robe from my shoulders, exposing me to him once again.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” He speaks quietly, so quiet I almost don’t catch it.

There’s a look of animalistic hunger on his face, one that is new to me. A stark contrast to the boyish smile he usually sports. Within seconds he’s leaning across the counter, capturing his lips with mine, one hand tightly grasping the back of my neck for support, whilst I grip at his shirt. His kiss is fuelled by passion and while it’s rough there’s a feeling of comfort that I can’t describe.

Without thinking, I’m striding back around the counter, pushing him backwards so that he flops down on the couch. Allowing me to take a seat on his lap, his erection firmly pressed in between my thighs, if I weren’t so focused on the moment, I’d most certainly be embarrassed by the wetness that begins to drip down my thighs.

Grinding myself slightly, I tug at his top, pulling it over his head quickly before throwing it behind me. His lips attach to my neck and I can feel him sucking gently, determined to leave a mark. A moan escapes my lips before I can stop myself, sparking a fire in his eyes as he grips my hips, guiding them to roll over his clothed length even harder.

His fingers move with haste as he works at the knot holding the flimsy bralette together, prying it off my body the moment the ties become loose. Grabbing his jaw, I pull his face back to mine, kissing him with burning desire as his hands move to palm my breasts. Our tongues entwine as his fingers brush over my nipple, releasing a soft gasp from me, to which he takes advantage. Dipping his head to suck and bite marks into my chest, I grab his hair tugging softly with every moan that he extracts from my body.

I can hear a groan escape his mouth, to which he covers it up quickly by dragging his tongue over my nipple. His hands playing with the other so as not to focus all his attention solely on one. Steve sucks gently, drawing unholy moan after moan from my body as I continue to feel the heat between our bodies.

Tipping my head back and pushing my breasts further into him, I find myself pushing a hand between our bodies. Slipping under his shorts and offering a short squeeze, causing the man to murmur a soft fuck as he continues to play with my nipples. From feeling his length in my hand, I can tell he’s big, bigger than I anticipated and much bigger than I’ve ever had. It scares me equally as much as it excites me.

It’s only when I begin to start delicately stroking up and down, that he pushes me to the side. Throwing me onto the couch gently so that I am laid on my back with him standing over me. As he smiles down at me, I can’t help but find the contrast between his soft smile and the dominance he has just been displaying amusing. A cheeky grin evident on my face.

“Where’s that knife?” He asks, fingers brushing over my throat as he stares down at me.

“Knife?” 

“From the pictures.”

Nodding my head towards the countertop, I watch eagerly as he grabs it, clenching my thighs together as my mind drifts to what he is going to do with it. Much to my surprise, he gently pulls my body up so that I’m sat upright, before settling on his knees between my thighs. Pushing the thong to the side, he presses the blunt side of the knife to my heat, trailing it between my folds. When he removes it, it glimmers with the slick that is now definitely dripping onto the couch.

“Lick it.” He raises the knife to my mouth and I brush my tongue against it as directed, immensely turned on by the entire situation. “You’re such a good girl.”

If his words didn’t make me moan, I do when his tongue makes contact with my clit. Head falling back as I close my eyes, focused only on the pleasure he is giving me. Despite not having my eyes open, I am acutely aware of Steve reaching up to my throat and holding the sharp side of the knife directly on my neck. Pushing it gently, though not so much to draw blood.

“God, you’re such a good girl.”

He switches between sucking and licking my clit, his free hand moving to push two fingers into me ever so slowly. The sounds are inherently sinful, the way he’s lapping up everything I can offer him is downright filthy and yet I feel like I’m in heaven. He devours me as though I’m his last meal, moaning against me, vibrations adding to the already exhilarating pleasure I’m experiencing. God, if this is what he can do with his tongue, there was no reason for him to buy a vibrator.

As he continues to push his fingers into me at an unruly pace, his tongue swirls circles against my clit, pushing me further and further to the edge. My stomach feels tighter and I try to close my thighs, though he reacts by pushing the knife closer to my throat, reminding me of its presence.

“Holy fuck.” I whisper, coil within me snapping and my legs twitching as he continues to lick up anything I have left.

With a pleased grin, he pulls himself away from me, rising to his feet and even in my post orgasm daze, I drop to my knees. Hurriedly pulling his shorts down to his ankles, I grab his erection with both hands. Mouth falling open in shock as I wrap both my hands around him.

“Jesus Christ.” My voice is almost silent yet Steve still hears me, chuckling at my words.

“You gonna be able to handle it?” He asks and I waste no time in nodding, gazing up at him, eyes filled with lust. “Yeah you are.”

In an attempt to calm my nerves, I hesitantly lick from the tip to the base, mouth watering as I hear Steve’s breaths become shakier. Wrapping my lips around the tip, I slowly begin to bob my head up and down, unable to take the whole thing but trying my hardest. I allow myself to coat his member with my spit, using my hands to stroke whatever I can’t fit in my mouth. He bucks his hips involuntarily with a deep guttural moan and I can’t help but gag, eyes watering as he hits the back of my throat. 

Pulling back with a gasp for air, I continue to stroke him with one hand, the other reaching for his balls. As I lean in to go for round two with my mouth, he grabs my hair softly, pulling me to look up at him. With mascara streaks running down my and saliva falling from one corner of my mouth, Steve smirks.

“I’d let you do that forever if I wasn’t so desperate to feel you.”

He helps me up, pushing my body over the countertop, before pulling the thong off me completely. I spread my legs for him, allowing him to see the effect he has on me, he circles my clit with one finger as his other hand grips his length. The tip smacking against me as he nervously rubs it over my hole. 

“Steve please, I want you so bad.” I beg, feeling myself clenching around nothing as he teases me.

“Fuck you’re perfect.” He cautiously pushes the tip into me, my hands gripping the wood of the countertop at the stretch and I squeal slightly, from a mixture of pleasure and pain. “My perfect girl.”

He continues to push himself inside of me for what feels like an eternity, just when I think I’ve taken him all, he pushes further. I’ll admit it has been a while and with Steve’s size, the stretch burns and yet I want nothing more than to feel him inside of me forever.

The gentleman he is, he stills once completely sheathed within me, awaiting confirmation from me that he is able to move.

“Steve please fuck me now.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice and instantly pulls himself out, almost completely before slamming back into me. Balls slapping against my clit in a way that teases me as he practically rips me in half. One hand pushes on my back, firmly holding me down against the counter as he continues to pound into me. The other grips my hip, knife still in hand though neither of us seem to pay any attention to it. 

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I saw you.” He states between moans, slamming into me at an almost brutal pace.

I’m able to slip one of my hands between the wooden surface and my body, bringing it to the space between my legs and gently teasing my clit, resulting in a string of profanities falling from my lips. Steve notices this and bats my hand away, taking over himself. His fingers are like magic and combined with the way he is ramming himself into me, I can feel myself on the brink of cumming once again.

“Oh my god, Steve I’m so close.” 

Upon hearing this, he pulls my body upright, peppering kisses along my shoulders and the nape of my neck as he continues to drill into me at the same rough pace. Within a matter of seconds, I find vision spotting as I fall over the edge. Thighs sticky and wet with the remnants of my second orgasm. Steve allows me to fall back onto the countertop, continuing his assault on my vagina and the overstimulation drives me crazy. I’m a complete moaning mess and by the time he stills with a soft grunt, I have even more tears in my eyes.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He murmurs, pulling out of me gently and pressing yet another kiss to my neck.

Turning around to face him, he has a lazy fucked out grin on his face and I can’t help but feel proud that I’m the reason for that smile. I smile at the thought, and at the feeling of his cum beginning to spill out of me and down my legs. Steve takes my hands in his and flops back onto the couch, wrapping his arms around me as I rest my head on his chest.

“You know I actually came here hoping I would work up the courage to ask you on a date but this was so much better.” He admits, nuzzling his nose into my hair.

“Wow so I missed out on a date?” I tease, hugging into him even tighter.

“I mean, we can always break into Scoops and go have that date now.” He suggests, voice soft as though he’s afraid I will reject him.

“That sounds perfect.”

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine telling Max to fight after she’s been marked…

Steve, Dustin and Lucas had parked at gas station to restock and refuel. They were inside and from what it looked like, attempting to convince Steve to get ice-cream but he wasn’t having it.

Maybe it was that he didn’t want them getting sick or maybe he was just more irritable than usual in knowing that Max was marked by the Vecna in the Upside Down.

Nothing pissed you off more than knowing that Vecna was hiding away and preying on children. And his latest pick of Max was personal.

“You’ve been scarily quiet.” Max noticed and took a seat beside you on the hood of Steve’s car.

You shuffled to the side a little to make space and exhaled. “I’m not letting Vecna take you.”

Max shook her head and exhaled shakily. “I don’t think it works like that.” She replied sombrely which was the unfortunate truth.

If Vecna was physically present, they might have been able to form a plan to take him out but he wasn’t and they couldn’t reach him.

“Then promise me that you’ll fight.” You asked, looking at the young girl, taking her hand and squeezing tight. “Fight him hard and don’t hold back.”

Max swallowed and nodded. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders and hugged to mask the fear of losing her in a few hours.

“Screw Vecna.” You whispered.

Max squeezed a little tighter. “Screw Vecna.”

Letting her go, you stroked her cheek. Max always held a special space in your heart after she defended you from Billy one too many times.

Footsteps approached from the station followed by a small groan from the driver. “Seriously, you two? You could have had this conversation inside the car.”

~ More imagines here ~

[uramakimochi]

me for the past week and i'm so fucking maddd

STOP👏TAGGING👏XREADER👏IF👏YOU👏USE👏AN👏OC👏NOBODY👏 FUCKING👏ASKED👏FOR👏THAT👏OKAY???

The wrong thing is not the fact that you write a story with an oc, no, that's not the real problem, really.

IT'S JUST THE FACT THAT YOU USE THE WRONG TAG SO YOU HOPE MORE PEOPLE READ YOUR STORY. BUT BELIEVE ME IT'S JUST FUCKING ANNOYING 'CAUSE WE AREN'T ABLE TO FIND THE RIGHT FICS IF YOU KEEP DOING THIS!!!

There are people who like to read more stories with ocs than reader inserts, so use the fucking right tag go reach that community and stop spamming your stories among ours.

I don't think you get it but, you know, the purpose of fanfics with reader insert is to make the reader imagine her/himself as the mc of the story. The best part of these fics is the fact that EVERYONE can be included in them.

SO WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN THEM BY MAKING THE MC A PERSON THAT LOOKS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THE READER AND EVEN HAS A NAME THAT IS NOT THEIRS?

Not to be dramatic but i hate y'all.

And the fact that it's always the same fandoms and we all know who we're talking about...

[jonathanbyersphd]

[mild-lust]

"He's an idiot." Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

❥ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6k

❥ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sweet!Steve Harrington x Female!Reader

❥ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being stood up by Eddie Munson, you run into Steve Harrington on the walk home from the trailer park. He lends you listening ear and a ride—and instead of taking you home, he takes you to his.

❥ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: MDNI! 18+ content! Explicit language. Smut with undertones of fluff, and a little angst (if you squint). Unprotected penetrative sex, f!receiving oral sex, past casual relationship with Eddie.

❥ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: My first post, nerve wracking as hell !! I think I got a bit carried away !

You stare at the phone blankly after hanging it up. It was a call that you had been all but unfamiliar with receiving, but it conflicted you all the same each time. And always went the same way. He would make fake niceties, ask you shallow questions about your day and try to keep up some small talk before, inevitably, asking the same damn question. 

“Do you wanna come over tonight?”

You huffed in annoyance each time, making a half-hearted attempt to resist and trying to conjure up some lame excuse not to, but each time you would end the call with a reluctant ‘Fine, Eddie, I’ll be there.’ You hated yourself for being persuaded so easily. It was basically routine at this point, and it was stupid of you to even pick up the phone in the first place. As soon as you heard his voice on the other line, you should’ve hung up on him. You always think these things are so easy to do until you have to do them, until you hear his sultry voice pleading on the other end of the phone for just one more time. You let yourself think, in that moment, that maybe it’ll be different for once. It’s a stupid, short-lived belief.

Even so, you find yourself sat in front of your vanity again, brushing your hair and curling your eyelashes in hopes of impressing him. Maybe if your cheeks are a little more rosy, your eyelids a little more colourful, he might change how he feels about you. He might come to the revelation that he wants more than just sex this time. You know your efforts are futile, as long as your clothes are easy to take off he couldn’t care less about anything else, but it makes you feel better for a few moments to let yourself believe otherwise is true. You reluctantly slip on a matching set of underwear, lacy and baby pink. Very intentional. You know you look good, and you know that Eddie will appreciate it. You realize that this is the reason he expects the same thing every time—because you deliver it. You curse yourself for it. Shaking the thought from your head, you step into a short pink dress, throwing a cable-knit cardigan on top. 

You try not to think as you walk down the stairs, out of your house, and down the street to his. You consider turning back about a million times, but you end up at his trailer before you can actually muster the courage to do it. You knock on the door a couple times, waiting patiently, stupidly, for a response. Then again when you don’t receive an answer, the action proving ultimately as useless as the first one. You raise onto your tiptoes to try peek through the window, and you find that the trailer is completely empty inside. Your face grows warm as you look around the trailer park, realizing no one is around or waiting for you. 

Tears threaten your eyes, and you forcefully blink them away before they get the chance to well. You shake your head, promising yourself that you won’t be brought down by the behaviour of Eddie Munson. Not again. You turn and make your way back down the street, your shoulders slumping. The street is desolate and lifeless, the late hour clearing the pedestrians from wandering and leaving you alone on the road. That is, until headlights shine from behind you, casting your shadow on the concrete front of you. 

A familiar burgundy BMW slows as it approaches, stopping beside you. The tinted window rolls down, and you’re met with the face of Steve Harrington. You brush a stray hair from your face, then attempt to clean the smudged mascara from beneath your eyes with the knuckle of your thumb.

“Hey, L/N,” he drapes his arm over the door, “what are you doing out here?” he asks, his eyebrow cocked as he looks up and down the dark street. You’re slightly surprised to hear the concern in his voice. Although, you suppose, you’ve seen him around and you hang around a lot of the same people. Besides, it’s kind of impossible to roam the halls of Hawkins High School and never hear the name King Steve. You’ve had quite a bit of interaction with this boy, but the significance of your friendship only really occurs to you the moment that he stops his drive to talk to you. 

You shrug your shoulders, and you feel your cheeks grow rosy as you realize you have to find a way to avoid telling him the truth for the sake of your own dignity. He raises an eyebrow at you, “It’s late, you know,” he says, pointing out the obvious. You feign a small, agreeing smile, nodding your head as you avert your gaze to the ground. You open your mouth to speak, hesitating when you try to figure out what to say, “I know. I, um,” you shake your head, “I was just on the way home.”

He’s clearly dissatisfied with your response, concern still evident on his face when he tilts his head, his eyes narrowing. “That’s awfully vague,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “Here, you want a ride?” he asks, gripping the stick shift and switching back into drive, his gaze unwavering. 

You blink at him, slightly surprised by the invitation, “No, that's okay, Steve.”

You purse your lips into a polite smile, and he gives you a disapproving frown along with a quick, dismissive shake of his head. He opens the door opposite to him, a gesture for you to get in. His tone is persistent but gentle, “Come on.” He cocks his head toward the empty seat beside him, “Let me at least get you off the street. You can chill at my place, just to… you know, not be alone.”

You carefully consider his offer, pulling your lower lip between your teeth in thought, a subconscious attempt to suppress the smile that tries to pull your cheeks. You dip your chin, soon decidedly trotting your way around the front of his car and slipping through the passenger door. His arm crosses your body as he shuts it beside you with a soft thud, before he returns his grip back to the steering wheel. You lay your hands in your lap, watching yourself fiddle with your fingers. It’s hard not to think about the fact that you’ve never been alone with this boy. The car is quiet for a beat, the low hum of the engine bringing ambience to the space. You realize that you feel a bit less lonesome now, being in this car with him. A wave of gratitude washes over you, and you wonder if he knows that he’s saved you from a harrowing, pitiful night at home alone. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, needlessly ashamed to say it. 

He shakes his head, “Don’t mention it,” he says as he turns to look at you, his expression curious once again. “Where were you coming from?” 

You scrunch your nose and bring your gaze back down to your nervous, fidgeting fingers. “Nowhere,” you lie, the familiarity of embarrassment crawling up your neck. 

He gives you a comforting half-smile, his eyes shifting back to the road now that he has you talking, the engine turning and thrusting the vehicle forward. “No, come on.”

You hide your face with your hands, an action you realize is meaningless as he’s not even looking at you anymore, “God, it’s embarrassing.”

He smiles amusedly when he senses your unease. He remains wordless, the quiet itself urging you to continue. “I went to… um, Eddie’s place.” The words leave your mouth reluctantly, humiliating and heavy on your tongue. 

You see his eyes widen a bit as he processes what you’ve said. “No kidding,” He says with a scoff, disbelief heavy in his voice. “Munson?”

Your chest tightens, and you’re unsure if you’re more ashamed by your actions or Steve’s reaction. “Yes, Munson,” you huff, “but nothing happened.” 

He seems to lose some amusement from your clarification, potentially hoping for a juicier outcome. To your surprise, he doesn’t press any further. You were glad to see him bring his focus back to the road, going back to quietly navigating the stark streets for the remainder of the drive. You watch the unlit houses go by through the window, cruising by streets you only faintly recognize. Before you know it, Steve is pulling into his driveway and leading you up the small steps to his front door. He coolly unlocks it and opens it for you, welcoming you into the darkness of his living room. Light creeps in from a small light in the kitchen, allowing you to just barely make out the outline of his furniture.

You squint your eyes, lingering in his foyer once you’ve hung up your sweater. He sets down his keys and heads towards his staircase. “Are your parents home?” you ask tentatively.

“Nope,” he replies, “they’re in Chicago for the weekend.”

He throws the words away, moving into his house without a second thought, apparently used to being alone. It’s only when he disappears into the kitchen that you think to catch up to him, finding him with a crisp can of Coke already opened. He leans against the open door of his refrigerator, his head tipping back as he takes a swig. You stand in the doorway, your eyes trailing up his exposed neck, moles sparsely trickling along his flesh and adams apple as it bobs with deep gulps. Your eyes snap back to his face when he speaks again, “Want something to drink?” 

You shake your head and murmur a sheepish ‘That’s okay, thank you’. He nods and moves past you, travelling across the long distance between his kitchen and his living room. You follow behind him, your head turning every which way to take in his house. It’s spacious, tasteful, but you can’t help but notice its overbearing hollowness. The halls are empty and dark, any sign of liveliness or family apparently absent. You wonder how often his parents must be gone for the house to be this pristine, practically untouched. You clear your throat, taking a seat next to him on the couch, sure to keep a safe distance between the two of you. 

“What were you doing at Eddie’s house?” Steve questions you again, breaking the silence and setting his elbows on his knees. You recognize an edge that suggests more than just innocent curiosity; an insistence that makes you wonder if he’s truly interested in your answer rather than simply enticed by the gossip. 

“Um,” you wet your lips, “he wasn’t even there, actually.” Your mouth dries up as you say it, the reminder digging a pit in your stomach. He tilts his head to the side, clearly not understanding.

“Hm? Why not?” 

You raise your shoulders, letting out a soft, defeated sigh. “He was supposed to be.”

Uncertainty flickers on his face, and his expression softens when he realizes the implication. “Oh,” he utters, his voice quieter now, “I see.” He leans back against the couch, looking down at his lap. 

“It’s not a big deal,” the words tumble out, quick to reassure him. “We’re not, like, together or anything. Just… kinda sucks.” His eyes find yours as you speak, actively searching for any sign of doubt on your face. You press your lips together, “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” he nods slowly, not entirely convinced of your apathy. “Well, he’s a dick, you hope you know.” 

Your lips curl, eased by his attempt to sympathize with your being stood up. You wave him off. “Oh, whatever.” 

“Seriously,” he persists, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip of his Coke.

You shrug your shoulders, “It’s Eddie.”

“I guess. Still a dick move,” his voice softens. “I mean, no dude should get to stand anyone up.” He pauses for a moment, seemingly careful to choose the right words. “You don't deserve that. You’re… a really nice girl.”

“Nice?”

Steve keeps your gaze when he continues, “Yeah. He’s a moron.” He tsks. “If I had someone like you coming over…” He trails off, unsure of whether or not he should continue. 

“What?” you ask curiously.

“I mean—look at you. I’d be waiting at the door."

“Really?” you say. As if you need to hear it again to fully understand what he means. 

He swallows dryly, setting his can onto the coffee table and, in turn, settling closer to you. “Come on, you’re gorgeous.” He says simply. 

His leg brushes yours, and he doesn’t pull away. You nod, mostly to yourself, and try not to smile too obviously as you look down at your lap. “Thank you,” you mutter quietly enough that you’re not sure if he hears it. There’s no indication even once you look back at him, but you realize that he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you. You feel your cheeks burn up, and you hope he doesn’t notice the pinkish-red that tends to slither up your neck when you get nervous. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times, though.”

You purse your lips, somehow embarrassed not to have been told something when you have no control over whether or not you’re told. You try to shrug it off, “Not really.”

Steve is visibly puzzled by this. “No?” He asks inquisitively. 

“You know,” you say, trying to feign indifference. “Eddie’s not really… a talker.”

“‘Not really a talker’? What does that mean?” he replies, as if there’s no way he could be interpreting this correctly. You fiddle with the hem of your dress, instinctually starting to feel defensive over Eddie, despite yourself.

“You know,” you say again, hoping he’ll understand before you have to say it. “Neither of us really talked. Not much opportunity for compliments.”

He scoffs, “That’s bullshit.”

You frown and swat him half-heartedly, “Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not,” he raises his eyebrows and holds his hands up in a mock-surrender, “Just saying. Must’ve been real good for you to put up with all that.”

You laugh humourlessly, glancing away from him. “Yeah, you’d think so.”

His eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of your crypticity. It only takes him a second, and his eyes flit back to yours. He cocks his head. “He wasn’t?” he asks lightly, trying to sound casual though the interest in his eyes isn’t exactly subtle.

You don’t want to offer anything more, admittedly embarrassed to elaborate. You figure he can read between the lines, but his gaze is unwavering, still curious. You hesitate before you continue, “I don’t know.” Part of you wants to protect Eddie’s intimate life for the sake of his privacy, while the other doesn’t really care after what he pulled tonight. Decidedly, you go with the better part. “It was never really about me.”

“What, you mean, he never, like… you never—” he breaks, his eyebrows raising as it dawns on him, “Oh.”

You’re grateful that he’s not judgmental about it, just surprised. Possibly even for your sake. Silence hangs between the two of you for a moment, not particularly uncomfortably, before he breaks it again. “Wow, that sucks.” All you do is tighten your lips and nod agreeingly. “You deserve, um,” he stops to weigh his words, “You should be with someone who knows what they’re doing.”

You’re not entirely sure what he means. He’s searching your face, as if he’s still trying to decide something, and his eyes dip to your mouth almost imperceptibly. He sets his hand onto your knee, gingerly, giving you the opportunity to pull away from him. You don’t. 

You let out a nervous exhale as he leans closer to you, the distance between you closing further and further. Once his mouth meets yours, it’s drastically different from the hungry, lustful make-outs you’d shared with Eddie. He presses softly, his lips moving cautiously, still proposing a question. He breaks the kiss, just for a moment, only leaving an inch or two between you. Another opportunity to let you pull away if you wanted to. Once he sees that you don’t, his hand moves to cup the side of your face, and he kisses you again with more fervour. Though his lips are still moving with care, gentleness, there is more intent behind it. He’s eager. 

You shift closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, and you rest your hand on his leg. His tongue brushes along your bottom lip, a silent request meant to coax it open. You answer it, slipping your tongue alongside his. You still yourself, suddenly unsure, and wonder if you’re moving too quickly. You’re not sure of how far he’s meaning to take it, or whether or not the kiss was supposed to mean anything at all. Your answer comes soon after when his hand trails carefully up your thigh, deliberate and certain. You lean into his touch, and he gently pulls you into his lap. Your knees settle on either side of his hips, and he places both hands on the small of your back. You sigh softly against his mouth, moving your hands to both sides of his neck and drawing him impossibly closer. 

The skirt of your dress gathers around your thighs when your front presses flush to his, your legs spread across his lap. His hands travel to your bare thighs before he stops himself at the hem of your dress. He lets out a careful exhale, pulling his lips from yours and searching your eyes. Your noses still touch, his breath fans hotly against your face, and you bring your hands to cup his cheeks.

“It’s okay,” you whisper reassuringly, answering the question he hasn’t yet asked aloud. 

“No, I…” he trails off, his eyes flicking to the ceiling. He swallows once, then utters quietly, “Upstairs?” 

The single word earns a fervent nod from you, and you lift yourself from his lap, offering your hand to him. He hastily takes it, moving in front of you to lead you out of the living room and up his staircase. Once you’ve made it to his room, he shuts the door behind him with a quiet ‘click’. He crosses the room with only a couple strides, his hands again holding your face and bringing you into another kiss before you can even make it to the bed. He walks you backwards and only breaks away from your lips once the back of your legs bump against it, then he lowers you gently on top of his rumpled bedspread. As he crawls over you, his lips attach to your neck and kisses tenderly along your jaw. 

He presses another gentle kiss to your lips, resting his forehead against yours to take a second to catch his breath. His hand rubs the fat of your thigh, hesitating when it traces the hem of your dress. You place your hand on his and guide it higher up your leg. 

Steve sits back for a brief moment to swiftly pull his shirt over his head, tossing it aside and causing it to pile in a heap on the floor. He leans back down for another kiss too quickly for you to properly see him, so you resort to instead moving your hands to run delicately along his stomach and up to his chest. He grasps your thigh and hikes it up to his hip, opening your body against him. His hips rut gently against yours just once, and you can tell that he’s making an effort to restrain himself. The growing tent in his jeans rubs roughly against you even after he stops moving. His hand wanders further up your thigh, skimming the bottom of your dress and pausing, almost waiting for you to stop him. Yet again, you don’t. Instead, you raise your arms to allow him to peel it over your head and discard it to the floor, just as his shirt was. 

Your face grows hot when you’re left bare underneath him. As he leans back onto his knees, you see his breath hitch in his throat when the lingerie that you initially put on for Eddie is revealed. His hands instinctively move to your hips, tracing his fingers along the lacy material that clings to your curves, his eyes still fixated on your body.

The longer he stares, the more self-conscious you feel, even if it only lasts for a second. “What?” you ask sheepishly, pulling your knees together in a half-hearted attempt to close yourself off. 

“Nothing,” he responds quickly, his eyes darting back to yours, “It’s just… Eddie’s an idiot.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips, your hands reaching out to pull him back in for a kiss—partly to stop him from staring much longer. Obviously, that’d been the reaction you’d hoped for, but you’d gotten so used to being stripped so hurriedly that it was surprising to be given more than a few seconds before rushing to the ‘good part’.

 His hands continue to admire your body when his eyes can’t, moving along your waist and eventually cupping your breast. His thumb brushes over the hardened peak of your nipple through the thin material, the sensation causing a shudder to run down your spine. Your back arches into him responsively, along with a quiet moan that’s muffled by his mouth. 

His lips travel down to your neck and press hotly below your ear, tenderly making their way down to your chest. His erection rubs evidently against your inner thigh. Despite himself, he doesn’t grind or urge against you. He still takes his time to plant gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, lower, lower, lower…

Faint pants escape from your lips, your chest rising and falling heavily. His lips press between your breasts, trailing down to your belly button, to the soft plush of your inner thigh. You gasp softly, a chill running through your body when he presses a feathery kiss to your clothed clit. He continues to pepper light kisses on your thighs as one hand roams along the side of your body, stopping when it reaches the lace of your panties. His eyes flicker to yours, and you answer the question he means to ask with a keen nod of your head. 

A finger hooks the material, sliding them down your legs smoothly. Once they pass your thighs, knees, and ankles, he balls up your underwear and tosses it aside, then hooks his hands around your legs to pull you closer to him.

Your eyes flutter shut when he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. Your cunt pulses desperately, the almost torturous pace he’s setting already making your head spin. He evasively pulls his tongue back into his mouth, and in its place, he slides his middle finger to glide along your folds. He slips it in tentatively, his eyes wide as he looks up at you for even a semblance of hesitance or doubt. All he’s met with is the soft gasp that’s drawn from your lips, a clear green light for him to continue. Pushing deeper into your soaking entrance, his finger curls and his lips attach to your clit, suckling. This earns another gasp, the pretty noises coming from your mouth growing more consistent once his finger starts to slip in and out of you. 

His tongue swirls around your sensitive clit, and he slides his index finger alongside his middle, his thick digits already starting to stretch you out as they move with mesmerizing care. You have to make an effort not to tug too hard on his hair when your fingers thread through it, your knees draping over his shoulders. With his tongue lapping and sucking on your puffy clit, fingers curling expertly to brush against your sweet spot with every pump, you realize how badly you’d been lying to yourself about ‘not minding’ the lack thereof with Eddie. Because, Jesus, does this feel fucking phenomenal.

His free hand moves to grasp your thigh, encouraging your legs to stay open once they try to close around his head. You start to burn up from the inside, being pushed closer to the edge despite his pace that refuses to quicken to match your rapid breaths. It’s a bit embarrassing to near your orgasm so quickly before he’s even fully undressed, but it’s excruciatingly hard to focus on anything except the waves of pleasure that wade through your body. 

“Steve,” you breathe, trying to grab his attention. You tighten your fingers in his hair, a weak attempt to break him away from you, but he persists. Your skin tingles with the sensation of his tongue working against you, and the lust that blooms in your lower tummy begs you to take this further. You squirm slightly underneath him as you mewl his name once again, “Steve...” 

All he does is him in mindless acknowledgement, the sound being muffled by your cunt. Once you get him to finally pull away and look at you, he is a visionary. His lips are pink and wet, parted slightly as he gazes up to look at you. His dark hair is tousled by your eager grasp and a strand falls loosely onto his forehead. You brush it from his eyes. You truly don’t know how much longer you can wait to have him, and you find yourself driven by this burning impatience. 

You urge him to move from between your thighs, pulling him to sit up. Tucking your lower lip between your teeth, you lay him down beside you and climb on top of him, settling your knees on either side of his hips. You reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, pulling it off and tossing it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. This warrants a groan to erupt from deep in his throat, his eyes taking in your bare chest as if he’s immediately committed to memorizing it for future notice. 

“So pretty…” he whispers, and it’s unclear whether or not he meant for you to hear him. 

He attaches his mouth to yours again, wasting no time to slip his tongue past your lips and explore. There’s a newfound sense of urgency now, his movements still deliberate but considerably more driven. You shift backwards to give yourself enough room to start working on his belt buckle, your fingers fumbling as if you’ve never undone a belt in your life. Then he lifts his hips to help you tug his jeans down his thighs, and he’s left in nothing but his Calvin Klein briefs, the barrier between the two of you starting to dwindle. You can’t stand being naked where he remains clothed, even if it’s nothing but a pair of briefs, so your fingers move quickly to slide under his waistband. You wet your lips and tug delicately, just enough that his erection is revealed from beneath the fabric. 

You almost salivate when he springs free and weighs heavily against his stomach, a drop of precum gathered at the pink tip. You can’t help but reach to wrap your hand around him, your fingers barely meeting around his girth. His reaction is immediate; his eyebrows creasing, his lips parting with a sharp inhale, and his head tipping back against the headboard with a faint ‘thud’. You swipe the bead of arousal at the head with your thumb, before moving your hand slowly down his length. You’re only granted a stroke or two, base to tip, before he stops you by grabbing your wrist. “Easy,” he breathes, seemingly concentrated on restraining himself from ending the night right then and there. 

It’s unspoken, but there is a mutual understanding between the both of you that he needs to get inside you, like, yesterday. You lean forward, bracing yourself with one hand and arching your back somewhat purposefully, allowing you to hover above his cock. He shifts between your legs, his hand replacing yours at the base. You’re a bit embarrassed by the sheer amount of arousal that already coats his thick cockhead, though he seems to be in utter disagreement with you when he responds with a guttural groan. He aligns himself with your slick, carefully gliding the tip up and down without yet going in. 

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, despite the telling circumstances. 

“Yes, Steve,” you respond firmly, almost exasperated by his unwavering hesitancy. “I want you,” you emphasize, hoping the slight whine in your voice is enough to soothe his uncertainty. 

Luckily, those three words are all he needs to hear. Once he properly positions himself, all he says after that is a small ‘Tell me if you wanna stop’, and his hands move to steady your hips. Your eyebrows knot, and your chest swells with anticipation, even nervousness. His tender demeanor, the way he looks at you, it’s so overly different from how Eddie treated you. You wonder how you ended up here, with Steve, instead of in Eddie’s trailer as you always do. Coincidence, you suppose. If you had ended up there again, you certainly wouldn’t—

Holy fuck.

The thoughts are swept clean from your head once he guides you down onto him, your mind overcome instantly with the tantalizing stretch his cock brings upon entrance. Your nails go to grasp his shoulders, your jaw slackening with an audible gasp. Your eyes flutter open, your senses overwhelmed with the firm grip he holds on you, the grunt that falls from his lips, the air that punches from your throat with the first deep, experimental thrust. 

He holds your soft hips tightly, enough that it seems he’s keeping you from moving any more. “Jesus christ,” Steve mutters, his voice strained. “You’re so—fuck.”

You give yourself a moment to adjust, partly for his sake, especially because it seems if you move at all he’s going to fucking explode. Once you see him relax, you set a controlled pace, rolling your body against his. His eyes fixate on where you’re connected, and you watch his expression change; the light crease between his eyebrows, the lower lip that he sucks between his front teeth, his jaw that tenses visibly. It’s not long before he’s drawing small, breathy moans from you, his cockhead dragging mesmerizingly along your inner walls. 

Soon, you find yourselves in a rhythm, your bodies familiarizing themselves with each other and starting to work in tandem. Your hands slide up to the sides of his neck and you let your head fall back to look at the ceiling, your face starting to twist in pleasure. You can’t help the noises that drawl from your lips, his cock hitting the perfect spots inside you so easily. You don’t notice, but he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Sweat beading on his hairline, low groans coming from his throat as he watches your every move, the way your breasts bounce with every deep stride of your hips. He’s completely enthralled by you, your long nails clawing at his shoulders helplessly. You lean back down, your front pressed to his as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying uselessly to suppress the mewls that escape your mouth. You busy your lips by kissing along the sparse freckles on his sweat-slick skin.

“Oh, Steve,” you moan out. “Steve,” you repeat mindlessly, the word warbled by your breathlessness. There is a visceral reaction to your babbly moaning of his name, a shiver running through his body as he struggles to maintain a steady pace. 

Panting, he threads his fingers through the damp hair on the back of your head and gently pulls you forward to look at him, his eyes darting along your flush face. He brings you in for a kiss, your ability to reciprocate lasting only momentarily before you end up doing nothing more than gasping into his mouth. He curses under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as his hand falls back down to your hip, helping to guide your unstable pace. 

With a tight grasp on you, he starts to thrust upward to meet your movement, pushing himself deeper inside you. The room fills with the sounds of skin-on-skin, and he starts to do most of the work to make up for your ever decreasing control. His thrusts don’t last long before they become erratic, his hips moving desperately and clearly starting to chase release. You cry out, your hands moving quickly to dig into his shoulders again. 

“Fuck,” he grunts in response, knitting his eyebrows together, “That feel good?” You’re unsure if the question was rhetorical, the moans that rip from your throat more than enough evidence for him, but you answer anyways. 

“Yesyesyes,” you murmur, “S’good.” You’re almost whining, the coil in your tummy starting to tighten rapidly. You turn into a hot, trembling mess on top of him, letting lewd noises wrack through your body. 

“Holy shit,” he says with a strangled groan, heavy breaths causing his chest to rise and fall against yours, his chest hair scraping between your breasts. “You’re driving me crazy,” he pants, his tip brushing deliciously against your sweet spot. 

You plead his name, pleasure blooming under your sensitive skin and spreading to the rest of your body. He surges forward to capture the noise with his mouth, the kiss only lasting a second before he breaks from your lips and presses his forehead to yours. You tense and arch almost completely against him, your thighs aquiver as you start to unravel around him, barely keeping the ability to hold yourself up on your knees.

He watches you fall apart intently, eyes blown-out with admiration. They then shut with concentration after he’s successfully ridden out your high, his face contorting blissfully as his hips stutter, a weak warning leaving his lips. 

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna—”

He abruptly pulls out, only a few pumps of his hand necessary before he erupts onto his own stomach, painting his cock with shiny, white streaks that run down his length. There's a collective moment where you’re both trying to catch your breaths, struggling to find composure. Licking his lips, Steve brings his hand to brush away the baby hair that sticks to your forehead. Without realizing, he bats his eyelashes as he studies your face; your parted, puffy lips, the rosy tint to your flushed cheeks, the heave of your chest. Truthfully, you look a bit ruined. Not that he’s complaining. 

You turn over to lay flat beside him, your shoulders brushing, and stare blankly at the ceiling. You’re mildly terrified of what’s to come, how he’ll act after this. You wonder if you’ve just broken your whole dynamic by letting this happen. You trace the patterns of the small bumps on his popcorn ceiling with your eyes, and wonder whether or not he’ll treat you with the same sort of respect now that you’ve had sex with him. Going off of past experiences, you have reasonable doubt. 

You feel his eyes on you, and you turn your head to meet them. As if he’s read your mind, his lips curl slightly, reassuringly, and he slides an arm behind your head to wrap around your shoulder. You let him pull you to your side, leaning your head into his chest and resting your hand close by. His thumb draws slow circles on the tingling skin just below your shoulder, goosebumps rising in their wake. 

You catch a glance of the alarm clock across from his bed, the numbers 11:37 stare back at you in bright red. Admittedly, there’s no urgent reason for you to have to get home, but you don’t want to overstay your welcome. You mutter against his skin, not really making an attempt to move, “It’s almost midnight,” you say as more of an observation than an excuse, paying close attention to the reaction it garners.

In any situation with Eddie, this would’ve warranted a dismissive ‘why don’t you head out?’ or, on a good day, an ‘I'll drive you home.’ Amazingly, that’s not what you hear next. 

“You don’t have to go yet, do you?”

This takes you a bit off guard, the softness in his voice. Nonetheless, you answer honestly. “No, I guess not.”

“Good.”

❥ MDNI banner by @cafekitsune

[yasministration]

sunscreen - steve harrington

summary: you and steve share a tender moment before facing hawkin's chaos, barely disturbed by the annoying teenagers and adults around you

Steve grumbled silently, but didn’t move his face from the firm yet soft grip you had on him. Nancy, Eddie and Robin were all waiting in the curly haired boy’s van, yelling teasing words as you glided the sunscreen stick over your boyfriend’s face. Steve pouted lightly, eyelashes fluttering as you ran the stick up his face, closer to his eyes.

You pulled the stick off Steve’s face, putting the lid on it as Steve turned around, ready to rush into the van. “We’re not done, Harrington.” Steve’s cheeks flushed a light pink as he did the walk of shame back to you, more teasing comments coming from your friends in Eddie's white van.

From the other side of you, the teenagers squished into your car yelled in annoyance at the time you were spending taking care of your boyfriend. You patted your clean fingers on Steve’s face, making sure the sunscreen reached all areas of his face.

“Okay.” You announced, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss onto Steve’s lips. He grinned, a hand cupping your cheek to bring you back into the kiss for a couple of more seconds, before pulling away, a cheeky grin on his face. You kept your eyes trained on your boyfriend as Steve trotted towards the van, getting into the back seat with Robin.

“Do we not get the same treatment!?” Eddie called out from the driver’s seat, leaning over Nancy to yell out of the open window as you hurried over to the driver’s seat of your car.

You heard Eddie’s whine of pain as Steve punched him in the shoulder at his words. Turning on the engine of the car, you threw a separate bottle of sunscreen to the back seat, where Mike, Lucas, Will and Dustin were smushed. Max laughed at the sounds of their struggle from where she sat next to you in the front seat.

“Put some on, the last thing you need is a sunburn.” You instructed, pulling out of the drive way. “Are they doing it max?” You asked the girl, glancing back at the four boys who were practically sitting in each other’s laps.

“Yeah.” She confirmed, grinning widely at their now pale faces. “Not Lucas though.”

“I can’t get sunburnt!”

“Lucas, you very much can get sunburnt!”

“Fine, mom!”

“Now your turn, Max, you’re a ginger.”

“HEY!”

[andvys]

Secrets I have held in my heart (are harder to hide than I thought)E.M.

⭐︎ Warnings: 18+, mdni! idiots to lovers, best friends to lovers, smut smut smut, lots of pining, mentions of unrequited feelings (they're not), slight angst, unprotected sex, breeding kink? kinda. alcohol and weed consumption. high sex?

⭐︎ Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

⭐︎ Word count: 20.4k

⭐︎ Summary: A weekend alone with Eddie at Steve's cabin reveals all yours and his deepest desires, feelings you were too afraid to act upon bubbling to the surface, leading to a steamy night that might change you and your best friend forever.

⭐︎ Author's note: I've been meaning to write a best friends to lovers with Eddie for a while now (especially after writing ikyllatk, if you know you know. this is Cheer and Eddie to me in a different universe hehe). @hellfire--cult and I went feral over this idea and we've been talking about this since foreverrrrr and here we are finally! thank you for inspiring me, love ♡

⭐︎ the library

divider made by @cafekitsune

The sun is beating down on your skin, kissing it with warmth as the cold water from the lake is still clinging to your body, making goosebumps appear as you shiver the slightest bit. Your eyes are closed, a content smile rests on your face, despite the way your blue lips tremble. Birds are chirping all around you, the trees rustle whenever the wind blows, the water splashes when your best friend makes his way out of the lake, cursing a few times when he steps over the sharp rocks on the ground. 

You don’t open your eyes just yet but you listen to him moving closer and closer to where you’re laying on the pink towel you threw on the grass earlier. You don’t have to take a look to know that he is staring at you, he always is. Like a weight on your body, his stare always feels like a warm blanket, heating up your insides and making you feel something you shouldn’t.

Eddie’s eyes are roaming your body, your glistening bare skin, the skimpy bikini bottoms that are only held together by the strings on the sides, the little bow coming undone slowly. He kneels down before you, making a gasp fall from your lips when the water from his hair drips on your belly and his cold hands touch your hip, fingers reaching for the strings so he can fix the little bow. 

You open your eyes to find him looking down with a smug smile as he plays with the strings on your bottoms, re-tying it for you. Your breath hitches in your throat from the touch of his hand and the closeness of him, if you were to sit up, your noses would bump together but you stay in place, only pushing yourself up on your elbows. 

“I’m sorry, sweets,” he chuckles softly, taking his sweet time as his fingertips graze your bare hip, “didn’t mean to get you wet,” he smirks, a look of mischief flashes in his eyes as water continues to drip from his body onto yours. 

“Are you sure?” You challenge him the way you always do, blinking at him innocently as you bring your knees up higher and bite your lip, making him gulp and blush instantly. 

You always know how to break him. 

Eddie is oh so confident and flirty, throwing looks and comments your way that are a little too suggestive for someone who is considered a best friend, but the moment you join in on his game, even if only subtly, he turns into a blushing mess, no longer the confident, cocky guy he wishes to be. 

But even when he turns into this, blushing and nervous, you can still feel that one certain energy radiating off him and it makes you squirm, it fills you with curiosity and the urge to cross that invisible line, your deepest desires, the ones that are locked away begging to be released. You never let them, you never even looked or paid attention to what you really wanted or craved. You played his game, you flirted back, you teased him but you never admitted to yourself that there was… something. 

“Hm, no,” Eddie murmurs, suggestively. He ties the knot, strongly and then, he hooks his finger around the strap, he pulls it back and lets it snap against your skin, making you jolt in your place, a tiny gasp falling from your lips once more as a bigger smirk appears on his face. His eyes roam your body, he takes you in fully before he leans back and plops down on his own towel, laying down, he places his arm behind his head, closing his eyes to the sun, he lets out a sigh of contentment, acting as though he didn’t just touch you the way best friends normally don’t do. Asshole. 

“This is nice, I’m glad we came out here.” 

You hum in agreement, taking advantage of the fact that his eyes are closed, you allow yourself to take a closer, better look at the man who had become your best and closest friend. He is attractive, very handsome, you aren’t blind, you never have been but he is your friend, you never allowed yourself to look at him a certain way but lately it’s become harder to stay so… blind, to not let his lingering touches make you weak in the knees, to not let his comments fill you with giddiness, to not feel something when he holds you in his arms, when he plays with your hair or places his hand on your thigh when you’re in his passenger seat. 

You don’t know where this sudden change has come from, it’s always been that way with him, from the very beginning, he’s been touchy and affectionate with you but it didn’t always make you so excited, it’s been a recent development, something that Nancy and Robin teased you about, they saw your reactions whenever he kissed your cheek and called you pet names, whenever he walked into a room only smiling the moment his eyes would meet yours. 

You never noticed it before, the feelings he left you with after all his sweet gestures and touches, only when your friends had brought it up to you, leaving you a blushing and a confused mess, did you start to open your eyes… a little, and suddenly things started to change, your reactions to his comments, no matter if they are flirty or sweet, your reactions to his lingering touches, the way his fingers would play with yours, the way they would drum against your skin, so very close to the hem of your skirt or your shirt, the way he would tuck your hair behind your ear or wipe the foam off your upper lip after taking the first sip of your morning latte before taking his thumb into his mouth and licking it off, moaning while doing so – what was normal before, suddenly wasn’t anymore, everything he did, everything he does now drives you crazy and leaves you yearning for more but you never dared to be the one to take another step forward, to cross that daring line, to make the first real move. 

He is still Eddie, your best friend, your soulmate, the person you don’t want to lose, especially over something like this, over reading into something that might not be there, over losing control of your own feelings. After all, this could all just be a part of… him. Maybe it’s just who he is, affectionate, teasing, flirty, daring. Maybe he is like that with everybody, not just you. 

But maybe not, maybe you are the only one and maybe, just maybe he is waiting for you to be the one to make another move, to take another step, maybe he has been waiting, maybe he has been waiting for a while now. 

You bite your lips so hard, you almost rip the skin open, your eyes are glued to his form, to the way his chest rises up and down, his wet hair a mess around him, lashes fluttering as his eyes are squeezed shut, your fingers itch to touch the ink on his pale skin, you lick your lips as your eyes follow his happy trail, mouth watering at the way his swim trunks are so low on his hips, his bulge so… god, you need to stop – but how can you? Your best friend is just so pretty. And his hands are so big, fingers so long and you have felt them on your skin before but you would be a goddamn liar if you said you didn’t think about them in other places. 

Your cheeks heat up at your own thoughts, though it doesn’t stop you from daydreaming some more and the longer you do, the more you start to lose yourself in them, wondering about all the different what if’s, wondering what would happen if you just made the move your friends have begged you to make, to be more daring, to be more teasing, to break him enough for him to do something you both clearly want. 

A bravery you don’t usually have, surges through your body, taking over completely. The urge to tease him back the way he teases you is so strong, so before you chicken out, before you think too much and too long, you reach behind you, undoing the bow he tied on your bikini top, you turn away from him and take the skimpy black thing off, throwing it down next to you, the cool breeze kisses your skin and if Eddie opened his eyes right now, he’d be met with the sight of your bare chest. 

You press your lips together and turn around, flipping your hair over your shoulder, you lay down on your stomach, stretching your arms out and letting out a sigh of contentment. You turn your head into his direction but close your eyes, even though you’re dying to see his reaction to you being topless but you are trying to play it cool, like it’s nothing. 

Eddie peeks one eye open after listening to all your movement and he almost chokes on his spit when he does, jaw falling slack, both eyes shoot open as he takes in the sight of you, of the skin that wasn’t bare only seconds ago – how, when, what?

He blinks, eyebrows furrowed, lips parted as he is gawking at you, at the way your boobs are pressed against the towel beneath you, at the softness of your skin, at the single drops of water still clinging to your body that he wants to touch oh so badly, your hair looks so shiny and soft, your face so content as you lay half naked next to him. 

Eddie’s cheeks heat up when he realizes that he would have seen you bare if only he opened his eyes a few seconds sooner. He licks his lips, nearly drooling over the sight of you. Suddenly, his trunks feel tighter than before when his mind takes him to places he only reserves for late nights when he is all alone and not afraid to risk to pop a boner. 

He tries to look away, he really does but he can’t, not when you look this hot. He allows his eyes to roam again and it only makes his case worse, his breathing quickens, his skin heats up, his hands itch to touch your soft skin, his lips long to trail kisses down your body, to have a little taste of you. 

If you were his, he would, he would start on your neck and he would kiss down to your shoulder and then your back, and he’d take it lower and lower until his lips would reach those skimpy panties, he’d take them off and taste you the way he always dreamed of, he’d lick a stripe up your pussy, suck on your clit, eat you out like the starved man that he is and he would get lost in your moans and your whines, in the pleasure that only he could make you feel. 

Eddie clears his throat, he nearly curses when he feels his dick twitching in need of you. He clenches his jaw, even more so when he sees your lips twitching into a smirk. Oh… Oh. 

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, his breath halting for a moment when he realizes what you did, you did this on purpose, you aimed to tease him. 

It’s not exactly something new, you being a tease but you have never taken things this far, you have never stepped up to his level. 

But now that you did… he can take things further as well, right?

If you decide to tease him like this, then he will tease right back. 

He pushes himself up, adjusting his trunks, he nearly lets out a groan when you wiggle your butt a little, pretending to get more comfortable. 

He bites his lip as he looks around in search for the sunscreen you have brought with you, he finds the bottle peeking out of your bag. He presses his palm on the grass beneath him, leaning over your body to reach for the yellow bottle. 

“What’re you doing, Eds?” You murmur, rather seductively

A smirk tugs at Eddie’s lips, the tone in your voice tells him that you believe you are in charge here and… maybe you are, right now, but he won’t let you win so easily. 

He chuckles lowly when a gasp tears from your pretty lips after he squirts the cold cream on your back. 

“Don’t want you to get burned, sweetheart,” he whispers, closing the cap of the bottle, he throws it on the ground before he lays his palms flat against your hot skin, spreading the white cream all over your back. 

You grow flustered and you start blushing, your breathing gets heavier and you visibly gulp when he starts massaging the sunscreen into your skin. You suck in a sharp breath when his hands move up to your shoulders, gripping you there for a moment before he moves back down, the coldness of his rings making you shudder a little. 

Eddie can’t even hide the smug look on his face after feeling your reaction, pride swelling in his chest when you sigh so beautifully because of his touch. 

You easily get lost in this, eyelashes fluttering, soft breaths and sighs falling from your lips as his strong hands move up and down your skin, touching you in ways that make you squirm beneath him. 

“Feels good,” you whisper as you arch your back a little, not knowing that just a small movement like this is enough to drive him insane, once again. 

“Fuck,” he curses softly under his breath, he swallows harshly. 

“What was that?” You ask, not hiding the smugness in your voice, very well. 

“Nothing,” he lies, “nothing, sweets.” 

“You sure?” 

He hums, shaking his head at your teasing, at the way you think that you will win the game that he started. 

Eddie moves his hands down to your sides, making sure to get the cream everywhere, so you won’t get burned, of course. His fingers dip dangerously low to the side of your boobs, and while it was only meant to tease you, to get a reaction out of you, he realizes that it was a mistake, only a little too late – it only makes his case worse when he feels just how soft and smooth your skin is that is usually hidden under all your clothes, when he feels himself craving to touch a little lower, to feel more of you, to make you feel–

“Mmmh.” 

Eddie freezes, hands halting at your sides, his big brown eyes widen and his lips part once again, he stares at the back of your head, stunned. 

You moaned at his touch, whimpered even, making those butterflies in his stomach feel stronger than ever. 

“Why’d you stop?” You mumble, wiggling your butt as though to tell him to keep going. 

Do you even know the power you hold over him? 

Do you even understand what you do to him? 

Eddie bites his lip, he bites hard, hard enough to taste iron. He sucks in a sharp breath, biting back the growl that threatens to fall from his mouth when he adjusts behind you, the rough material of his swim trunks rubbing against his dick. He is fucking rock hard and if you only turned around to take a look at him, you would see it. 

“I’m sorry, got a little distracted,” he says lowly, voice getting a little shaky. 

He feels so hot, and it’s not the sun that is making him sweat, it’s all you. 

He can see the way your lip twitches, the way your dimple shows when you smirk at his words. 

“Oh? By what, the birds?” You giggle. 

He chuckles, shaking his head at your question even though your eyes are still closed. He takes a moment to look at your surroundings, at the beautiful scenery, the trees and the big lake in front of Steve’s cabin – well, his parents cabin. 

God, he wonders where this weekend will take him, you and him. 

A weekend you were both supposed to spend with your friends, turned into this. Just you and him, and no one else. 

It’s only day one, and you are already close to making him cum in his swim trunks, like some pathetic teenage boy who couldn’t handle his crush’s teasing or touching. 

This will either be the best weekend of his life, or this might kill him – if you are only teasing, then this will surely kill him but if you are not, then he owes your friends a lot, for pretending to be sick or busy. He knows that they were lying when Robin fake coughed on the phone after telling him that she couldn’t make it, that she and Steve couldn’t make it, cause he got sick too… apparently. 

And Nancy forgot that she promised to help her mom with something, and if Nancy couldn’t come, then Jonathan couldn’t either of course – which led to Argyle staying back as well, cause where would he ever go without his best buddy? 

Eddie looks back down at you, at his best friend, who is laying half naked before him so comfortably, teasing him so freely. Another sigh escapes your lips and you squirm beneath him once again. 

Yeah, no matter how this will end, you will be the death of him. 

“Yeah, the birds,” he mumbles, snorting at his own words. 

He leans down closer to you, squeezing your sides which makes you jolt a little, a giggle falling from your lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the sweet sound, “I forgot how ticklish you are,” he teases, as if. 

“Mhmm sure you did, Eddie.” 

With a mischievous smile, he decides to take his teasing further, playfully digging his fingers into your waist, he begins to tickle you, making you yelp and jolt in surprise as you start squirming beneath his touch, giggles now falling freely from your mouth as his name rolls off your tongue so effortlessly, awakening those butterflies in his stomach. God, he wishes he could make you call out his name in different ways. 

You jump up, with your arms covering your front, one hand pressing against your boobs, hiding only just a little as you turn to face your best friend. You watch the way his eyes widen as they instantly fall to your chest, lust flashing in them, jaw dropping as his cheeks redden right this second, his expression makes you giggle even harder, even more so when you push him back and he falls onto the grass, flat on his butt, wet curls hanging in front of his hair. 

Eddie is so stunned by you, he can barely move as he stares at you, at your half naked form. God, you are so beautiful it hurts. 

The afternoon sun begins to turn golden, kissing your glowy skin and all your curves, your hair cascades down your shoulders, your hand that barely hides anything pressing against your boobs, he wishes it was his own. Licking his lips, he pushes himself up on his elbows, letting his eyes roam your body, shamelessly, dreaming about the way he would love to get between those delicious looking thighs of yours, the way he’d kiss every inch of your body, leaving no trace unmarked, the way he would nuzzle his nose into your neck and inhale your sweet scent, not playfully the way he usually does, but with a trail of kisses that he would leave behind. 

He would worship you in ways he can’t even begin to describe. Oh, how often Eddie finds himself up at night, working on yet another song about you, thinking of words that haven’t been created yet, strong enough to describe you. 

He feels uncomfortable in his swim trunks that are getting a little too tight, his skin feels on fire, not from the sun but from you. He lusts after you, yes, but there is also more than that, so much more. It isn’t just the lust that makes these feelings so intense, it’s all his deepest feelings for you, feelings that only his notebook filled with song texts know about… and maybe your friends, who aren’t as oblivious as you are. 

“I’m gonna take a shower, and you should too,” your voice pulls him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie clears his throat, watching you get up, not bothering to pick up your top or your dress that you wore earlier, you simply keep your chest hidden by your right arm. 

“You’re helping me cook dinner,” you give him a pointed look before you turn around and begin to walk back to the house. 

Eddie smiles cheekily as he pushes himself up further, eyes glued to your butt now. 

“Are you telling me to get into the shower with you?” He calls after you, unaware of the butterflies that he caused in your stomach now. 

You don’t turn around, you keep walking, hiding the flustered expression on your face from him. You flip him off without looking back, biting back your smile when he laughs loudly. 

Eddie watches, craning his neck to see more of you, the way your butt jiggles as you skip up the stairs. He bites his lip, groaning at the sight of it. 

“Goddamn.” 

You will be the death of him.

-

It’s dark outside by the time Eddie comes out of the steamy bathroom, the cabin is mostly dark too, candles illuminate the living room and the sound of music fills the space. A smile lingers on his face as he makes his way down the hallway, his wet curls bouncing with each step that he takes, he throws on a clean shirt, his gray sweatpants hang low on his hips. 

A groan almost falls from his lips when he walks into the kitchen to you standing there in nothing but one of his shirts, now that sight is nothing new to him but it never fails to take his breath away, though usually you have on more than just the shirt. Your bare legs are glowy beneath the dim lights, from hours in the sun and that delicious smelling cream you always put on your skin after showering, you sway your hips to the music, shirt riding up in the process. Eddie can’t help but wonder if you are wearing any panties at all beneath his shirt. Fuck. He shouldn’t let his mind go there, you have done enough teasing for the day, he almost jerked off in the shower and maybe he should have, maybe that would have released some of the tension in him but he wouldn’t have been able to stay quiet, he never is. 

God, this really will be a long weekend filled with torture and teasing. He knows he should probably stop playing this dangerous game but he just can’t help but play into it. 

He slowly makes his way to you, you’re humming to the music, knife held in your hand as you cut up vegetables, an opened bottle of beer on the counter before you, your damp hair is braided loosely, falling down your back. He can smell your body wash from here, the sweetness of it – of you is so intoxicating to him, he wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around your waist, pull you into him and bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhale your scent and kissing your soft skin, he craves it so very badly, even more so, he craves for it to be something normal. 

Eddie wants you to be more than just his best friend. 

Everybody knows it, everybody but you. 

And maybe it’s better this way, maybe he would lose you if you did find out. 

You might be a tease, you might let him touch you in ways no one else is allowed to, you might give him hope sometimes, the hope that you could feel more than just something platonic for him but at the end of the day you are still best friends and he can’t lose that, especially not because he can’t control his feelings. 

Because what happens when you do find out and you don’t feel the same? 

What happens then? 

What happens if it drives you away? 

What happens if he loses you? 

And he can’t allow that to happen, he can’t lose you, not you, anyone but you. 

Eddie knows he should do himself a favor and stop being so touchy and affectionate with you, it does him no good, if anything, it makes him want you even more but he can’t help it, he has to take what he can get… right? 

He comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist, he breathes in your sweetness, chuckling when you tense up for a second before a cute giggle falls from your lips. 

“You scared me,” you whisper, tilting your head back, you look up at him as you ease into his touch. 

“Sorry sweets, didn’t mean to,” he murmurs, teasing you with that pretty smile of his as he snatches a piece of the cucumber you’ve been cutting and bites into it, winking at you as he steps away again and takes a look into the large pot on the stove. 

“Pasta?”

“Pasta Arrabiata,” you say, imitating the Italian accent that Steve always makes whenever he is cooking. 

Eddie chuckles, “wow that was horrible.” 

“Shut up,” you giggle, scrunching your nose at him. 

If you knew how his heart flutters at your laughter and at your cute nose scrunches. 

“Since when do we put cucumber in pasta?”

The disgusted look on your face makes him laugh again, he leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as he eyes you up and down. 

“I’m also making a salad, it’s for you, you need to eat more veggies.”

His lips curl into yet another smile, warmth blooms in his chest. 

You take care of him, you always do. From making sure that he eats enough when he gets a little too lost in writing songs or working on campaigns to making sure that he wears a hat and a scarf when it’s cold outside, whether it’s something small or big, you are always there to look after him, you’ve always been there. 

“Alright, I’m eating the greens just for you, sweets.” 

He licks his lips as he eyes every inch of your exposed skin, tracing your soft features with the longing look in his brown eyes. The way his shirt looks on your body, the way your hair falls in front of your eyes despite you tucking it behind your ear just moments ago, the way you bite your lower up as you give him a disapproving look. 

“No,” you shake your head, pointing your knife at him, “you gotta eat them for yourself.”

“Are you threatening me?” He smirks, closing the gap between you both again, you instantly lower the knife and place it on the counter. 

You shrug, teasing him with a sweet smile, “what if I am?”

Eddie licks his lips, inching closer and closer to you, a smile tugs at his mouth, he hums as he raises his hand up to your face, combing his fingers through your wet hair before he tucks the fallen pieces behind your ear again. 

He is unaware of the effect he has on you, of the fluttering in your chest, of the burning in your skin, of the shaky breaths you suck in. 

“Then I think that’s really hot,” he winks at you as he moves his hand down your neck and then your shoulder, sliding it down along your spine, lower and lower until he’s holding your hip and pressing himself against you as he moves onto your other side, slower than necessary. 

Your lips part in surprise, every trace that he has touched starts to burn, your knees grow weak and your heart starts beating faster – how much longer can you deny the emotions he causes inside you?

“So, how can I help?” 

He is teasing you, you can hear it in his voice, and you don’t have to turn around to face him to know that there is a smirk on his face. 

“Set the table, pick a movie to watch later, dinner is almost ready.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs into your ear before he walks away without another word, giving you a moment to take a few deep breaths. 

You take a sip of your cold beer, closing your eyes for a moment, you listen to your beating heart, you feel the goosebumps on your skin, you feel the rush of blood to your cheeks, the weakness you feel for your best friend. 

How much longer can you deny what is really inside of you, that it’s not just physical attraction? 

Your heart flutters when his deep voice sounds through the dining room as he sings along to the music, your lips curl into an adoring smile. You can hear him rummaging through the drawers, trying to find the table cloth you assume. 

Picking up the knife again, you continue chopping your vegetables, finishing up on your salad, though you quickly get lost in this… domestic energy you both have created. It feels so warm, so safe, so familiar. A feeling you can’t imagine sharing with anyone other than your Eddie. 

He comes back into the kitchen, humming, he grabs two plates and cutlery and places them on the counter before he passes by you, without a teasing smile or comment, he places his hand on your lower back, he reaches over your shoulder to retrieve two wine glasses from the shelf and steps away again, leaving the kitchen once more. 

It all feels so natural, so normal and yet, it makes you struggle to breathe because the butterflies in your stomach go wild – just the way they always do, but now it becomes harder and harder to not pay attention to them. 

You take another deep breath, willing yourself to calm down, to push aside your feelings, to keep doing what you did before… be unaware of what is buried deep within your heart. So, you move along and distract yourself with finishing cooking dinner, not allowing your mind to take you further into this pit of hell as you call it, because that’s what love and feelings are, hell. 

There is no good in love, there is no peace in having feelings.

It’s a rollercoaster ride that ends no matter how long it lasts, pleasant or not, it ends. 

And you refuse to let feelings get in the way of yours and Eddie’s friendship, he means too much to you to risk taking a step further into something that your stupid heart desires, you love him too much to let your lingering feelings ruin what you both have, besides… who is to say that he could feel something for you? 

You are his best friend and he is yours, that’s all you’ve ever been and it’s all you’ll ever be, best friends, nothing more or less, best friends who are affectionate with one another, who tease each other, who sleep in each other’s arms and do things that other best friend’s might not do… Though when you step into the dining room with the heavy pot in your hands, you halt in your tracks, freezing at the sight before you. 

The table is set but not like usual, it makes you struggle to keep pushing away those feelings that have been sneaking their way to the surface because why did he place the plates so close to each other when the table is so big? And why did he place candles on the table and light them up instead of keeping the lights on? And why did he change the channel on the radio? Why is slow music playing instead of the rock channel he usually settles for when there is no better option for him? 

You can handle his teasing, you can handle his touching, his flirting, his suggestive comments and looks he gives you so often. 

But this is something else, this is something that would have normally made you run, a table set up so romantically, a dinner that seems to become something intimate. Yeah, if someone else had set this up, you would’ve definitely ran, you would’ve felt anxious, suffocated. 

Those feelings don’t exist with him though, it’s quite the opposite, even with the lingering fear inside of you for what you feel for him. You feel giddy. 

“Picked the movie, sweets,” Eddie calls from the living room, snapping you out of your troubled thoughts. He enters the room with a grin on his face. 

You clear your throat and finally take the final steps to the table, putting down the pot in the middle, you glance at your best friend. 

“Yeah? What’d you pick?” 

“Something neither of us have seen yet,” he winks at you, moving closer and closer until he is right in front of you again. He grabs the chair and pulls it back, gazing down at you with his dark eyes, “sit.”

“I gotta get the rest of the food–”

“I’ll get it, now sit down, princess,” he murmurs. 

Whenever his voice gets so low, your knees feel like they’ll buckle at any moment, shivers run down your spine and your cheeks grow hot. 

“Alright,” you chuckle, plopping down on the wooden chair, you gaze up at your best friend, batting your eyelashes at him. 

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, there is not much you have to do to drive him crazy. 

“Smells really good in here,” he comments, the mouth watering smell of pasta sauce and garlic bread makes his stomach growl. 

“Thanks Eds, now get the rest of the food before it gets cold.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he winks at you, squeezing your shoulder before he turns around and makes his way out of the room and into the kitchen. 

You take a deep breath when he’s gone, rolling your shoulders and trying to calm your nerves, your heart is racing and it makes you feel ridiculous. You are here with Eddie, your best friend, Eddie. You got nothing to feel nervous about, you’ve been here plenty of times before, at dinner alone with him… though, it was never like this, you never had candle light dinners with slow music playing in the back. And his touches, his smiles, his voice never drove you this crazy before, he never made your heart flutter, his hands never made your skin feel hot, he never made you feel like you’d fall to the ground because your knees felt like jelly, he never made you feel those things before until recently… or did he? 

“I’m starving,” Eddie says dramatically as he places the salad bowl and the garlic bread on the table. Before he takes a seat, he opens the wine bottle and reaches for your glass, he glances at you as he starts pouring it in your glass, he notices your flushed cheeks and how fidgety you are in your seat as you eye him up and down, it makes his heart flutter. 

“We can’t have that,” you chuckle, reaching for his plate, you start filling it with salad first to which he protests, claiming that it will only make him starve even more. “You need some healthy food!”

“Not too much of it though,” he shakes his head as he lifts the lid of the pot, inhaling with a smile on his face, “I need that.” 

Your giggle makes his smile widen. 

“Alright.”

“You know I love your pasta,” he grins as he watches you fill the plate. 

“That’s Steve’s pasta,” you chuckle. 

“Nah, that’s his recipe, you cooked it,” he retorts, tilting his head to the side, “besides, you do it better.”

Warmth fills your chest and your cheeks, your smile gets even bigger now. 

“Don’t tell him that! He’ll be distraught!” 

“Don’t worry, it’s our secret,” he mumbles with a grin on his face as he finally takes the seat across from you, taking the plate from your hands when you hand it to him with a soft ‘thank you’. 

He waits for you to fill your own plate before he picks up the fork or even takes a sip of the wine you picked when you went grocery shopping together this morning. He leans back and takes a look around, your surroundings are so different than usual, so unlike the small apartment he recently moved into where you eat your dinners at his tiny kitchen table. He appreciates the home cooked meals you always bless him with and the way you always want to take care of him, it makes him feel warm, it makes him feel safe. 

Eddie wants to do the same for you, he wants to make you feel the way you make him feel but he believes that he can’t measure up, that he can’t give you what you give him, that he can’t provide you the same feeling of safety or warmth and maybe that is the sole reason why he hasn’t made a move on you yet, not because he is scared of ruining your friendship – god, he wants to ruin it so bad. But because you deserve more than he can give you, you deserve this, a big house with a stupid fireplace, a big garden, stability, someone who can take care of you, someone who can give you more than a small, shitty apartment, someone who can give you more than just the flowers he gives you or the pastries he brings you when you’re taking your lunch breaks at work. 

Yeah, your friendship is very precious to him, he is scared of losing you, every goddamn day he wonders if this will be the day where you don’t show up for him but it isn’t the reason for his lack of effort in fighting for what he actually wants, it’s the fact that he believes that you deserve better than him, someone less like him, someone more like… Steve. 

So he settles for loving you from afar, he tries to spoil you, he tries as best as he can. He teases you whenever he gets the chance to, he becomes giddy when you react to it, when you blush and giggle or even tease him back the way you did today, it sparks something in him, maybe it’s confidence or maybe just an illusion that you could feel the same, whatever it is, he basks in the feeling in those moments. 

His eyes soften and the beating of his heart becomes stronger as he watches you, the way you dig your teeth into your bottom lip, the way your beautiful eyes shine in the dim light, the light flush in your cheeks making you look so damn cute, the way your smile only widens when you glance at him, a small huff falling from your mouth. 

“What are you looking at?” You tease, putting down your plate before you. 

You. 

He always looks at you. 

Eddie knows he won’t have this forever, someday you will meet someone who will give you everything that he wishes he could, someday he won’t be the one sitting across from you enjoying your dinner, someday he won’t be the one in your life. 

“At your shirt, is it new… or?” He teases, acting like he didn’t just get lost in his head, thinking of your future that he might not be a part of. 

You look down at his shirt, smiling proudly, you stole it from him the last time you stayed over,  “mhm got it from this store called the drawer.”

Eddie snorts, though he adores the look on your face, “you’re so lame, the drawer? Really?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, picking up the fork you start eating happily. 

“Who sold it to you?” Eddie asks, squinting his eyes at you. 

“Oh, this uh… really handsome guy, said he’s in a band, corroded coffin?” You raise your brow, pretending to think. “Yeah, that’s what it was.”

Eddie’s stomach flips in excitement at the compliment. You’ve called him handsome plenty of times before, but it never fails to make him blush. 

“Damn, he sounds really cool,” Eddie says, laughing. 

You nod, a serious and adoring look now flashing in your features, no hint of amusement behind those eyes, no teasing, just pure adoration for him, “he is, he is the coolest actually.”

He gets flustered easily when he’s with you but when you look at him like this, with that sweet smile and those soft eyes, he doesn’t know what to do with himself, he doesn’t know what to say or how to act, so he hides his face by looking down at the delicious food in front of him, a sheepish smile resting on his face, one that makes your own even bigger. He finally takes a bite of the pasta and his eyes instantly close as he moans at the taste of it, making you giggle yet again. 

“Fuck me, yeah I’m sorry sweets, but I ain’t letting you get married, you’re stuck with me,” he jokes as he takes another bite, completely forgetting about all the anxious thoughts that swirled in his mind just moments ago. 

“Oh, you mean I’m stuck being your private chef?” 

“I wouldn’t call it that.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, chewing on the garlic bread slowly, you try to ignore the heat building up in your stomach as you look into his chocolate eyes, waiting for him to say that word.

“Oh, then what would you call it?”

Eddie looks at you through hooded eyes, a teasing smirk tugging at his plump lips.

“Housewife.”

A surprised giggle falls from your lips, though your cheeks start burning, especially under his gaze. Something tugs at your chest, something strong, something warm. Housewife. You never craved to be that, you never had such desires. Sure, you always dreamed of finding the one, finding true love, finding someone who will love you the way you can love, the way you always wished to love but that’s it, you never imagined yourself past the dating stage, you never daydreamed of weddings and a husband, you never thought of becoming a wife, a housewife at that but… when you think of yourself as that with Eddie by your side, with your best friend, with the one who had always been by your side through thick and thin, something in you beats a little stronger. 

You clear your throat, lowering your gaze to his ringed fingers, you can’t help but let your mind take you to sacred places. 

Eddie watches you intensely, eyes lighting up at the flustered state you are suddenly in, a state he only ever sees you in when he teases you with touches, with pick up lines, with his flirtations but never this. There is a little spark in him now, the sparkle of hope. 

“Well that would make you my husband.” Your voice is shaky, filled with nerves and something else that he can’t decipher at this moment. 

Oh, Eddie would put a ring on your fingers right this second. 

He never really planned his future, he never really saw one, especially not one in which he would be happy with a wife and kids by his side but he would be lying if he said that he doesn’t want these things with you. You make him crave things that were never even a thought of his before he met you, you make him want to be that for you, a husband. 

He doesn’t believe that he can give you what you want, what you need, what you deserve but he knows one thing for sure, if he was given the chance, he would make you so damn happy. 

“Would that be so bad?��� 

You look up again and into his eyes, something in them is different now, something in the way he looks at you is so… intense and raw, there is a softness in them, one stronger than usual. 

Would that be bad?

You shake your head before you can even come up with the right words to say, or with words you should say. Something has changed, perhaps a long time ago or just now, but you know one thing for sure, your heart never beat this strongly before and your hands never itched to touch his so badly. 

You know the truth is hidden behind the walls you have put up, but that wall started crumbling a long time ago, long before you had the chance to even notice. 

The energy in the room has shifted into something more… intimate and it’s not the candles or the music, it adds to it, but those aren’t the main reasons, it’s the energy you both have created, it’s the lingering touches, it’s his foot touching yours under the table, not playfully like usual, it’s different, it’s all so different but it’s good. A comfortable silence takes over the room as you continue eating and as the seconds and the minutes pass, and you both sip on your wines, pouring a second glass, you both get a little bolder when the alcohol hits you. 

Your hands inch closer and closer to each other, your eye contact becomes a little more intense, making your breathing stutter and your heart skip several beats. 

And when he is done with his food, he pushes his plate aside and leans his elbows on the table, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath and then, he brushes his fingertips against your own before he envelopes your hand fully, taking it into his large one. 

You can’t describe the feelings rushing through you, he held your hand plenty of times before but until now, you never let yourself feel the rush of it, you never allowed yourself to pay attention to the electric feeling cursing through your veins but you allow it now, slowly… you allow it. 

“They’re really missing out, aren’t they?” You speak the first words that come to your mind as you stare into your best friend's beautiful eyes. 

Eddie looks around the dining room, shrugging when he looks back at you, his eyes roaming your face, his lips curl into a smile. 

“I don’t know, I kinda like it just being the two of us, we never really get the chance to be alone like this.”

You nod in agreement, “that’s true, I like it too,” you murmur before you reach for your glass and take a big sip of wine. 

“More wine and weed for us,” Eddie jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

You roll your eyes playfully, setting the glass back down, you tilt your head to the side, “speaking of weed, wanna roll us a joint?” 

Eddie doesn’t want to let go of your hand just yet but he nods, he could use that relaxation anyways, maybe it will calm his nerves around you before he does something that he might end up regretting later on. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna clean this up first.”

You shake your head, “no, I can do it–”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says sternly, glaring at you, “I know I said housewife, I hope you know that doesn’t mean slave.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the seriousness on his face or in his voice, “Eddie, I hope you know that that’s exactly what most men think of when they want a housewife.” 

He frowns in disgust, scoffing at that, he begrudgingly lets go of your hand and pushes his chair back. 

“Well, most men are pigs who don’t even deserve a wife in the first place,” he says, getting up, he glares at you and points at you to stay seated. “You don’t have to do all the work, you cook, I clean up, it’s simple.”

A smile graces your features, you tap the table before you reach for the wine bottle, pouring yourself a third glass, “well then, whatever you say, husband,” you giggle and get up as well, holding your hands up in surrender when he gives you a warning glance, “don’t worry, I won’t lift a finger, I’m gonna grab my wine and wait for you in the living room.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs as he gathers the dirty plates, “sit your pretty ass down.” 

You definitely feel the wine in your system now, that fuzzy feeling and the slight dizziness feels so welcoming though. 

“Yes, sir.”

Before Eddie can stop his mouth from running, those words tumble out of his mouth just like that. 

“Good girl.” 

You nearly choke on your spit and trip over nothing, his words rush right to your core, your cheeks start burning hotter than before. 

Good girl. 

He called you a good girl, with that raspy, deep voice of his that never fails to make your insides crawl with need, that never fails to ring through your head when you’re in your bed with your hand between your thighs, imagining him and his voice calling you just that. 

You don’t know how you manage to keep your composure but you do, only allowing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you continue your way out of the dining room and into the living room, you round the corner and rush to the big couch where he luckily can’t see you, your knees almost buckle before you can even take a seat. 

You close your eyes and sigh out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Pressing a hand to your chest, you nearly gasp at the beating of your heart. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper to yourself. 

Eddie will be the death of you, you are sure of it, if not tonight then tomorrow, and if not then, then on the last day of your trip. 

The veil that was hiding all your truths was already being lifted when you were still in Hawkins, slowly everything was coming out, all the feelings you were denying, all the things you were so afraid of admitting, you lost control and power a long time ago. The moment Robin opened her eyes to what was there this whole time, the moment she confronted you about your feelings for him was the moment you could no longer hide. The veil is no longer there, it’s long gone and lost with the wind. 

You run your fingers through your hair and lean back into the soft cushions, taking a big gulp of the red wine that will surely give you a headache tomorrow morning, you keep your eyes closed for a moment, you begin to curse her out in your head because all your reactions to his words and touches just now only confirmed all her beliefs. 

Fuck Robin for saying all that shit to you that changed your feelings and opened your eyes completely, a month ago. Fuck her for telling you that you indeed have feelings for Eddie, for your best friend. Fuck her for making you start realizing it and be self conscious for it. Fuck her for making you feel scared of losing Eddie because of it. 

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, you open your eyes and look around the lightly dimmed room, you take in the sound of Eddie’s voice, of his humming to the music, of the way your heart flutters more and more. 

You are so fucked. 

You will ruin the friendship, you are sure of it. 

If only you knew that this is exactly what he wants. 

You keep yourself busy with your wine glass, staring into blank space as you continue letting your thoughts eat at you, letting the insecurities and the doubts creep in, when all you want to do is get lost in the feeling of what he gave to you at the dinner table, just moments ago. 

You are so lost in your head, you don’t even notice the music being turned off, you don’t even hear his footsteps or his voice until he is standing right before you after throwing a bunch of different snacks on the coffee table. 

“I know the munchies are gonna hit you,” your best friend chuckles as he finally sits down beside you, joint already between his fingers, lighter on the coffee table. He turns to you, wiggling his eyebrows at you as he offers you the joint. 

Yeah, maybe this will help, maybe this will relax you enough to get a grip on yourself again, maybe this will stop you from doing something that will make you regret. 

Your heart, your body, everything in you seems to be sick of living in denial though because before your mind can kill this moment, you are already moving forward, looking into his eyes, you lean down, closer and closer, you wrap your lips around the joint that is still snug between his fingers. 

The widening of his eyes, the parting of his lips, snaps you out of whatever had possessed you, though not enough, not even in the slightest. 

You raise your brows at him expectedly, waiting for him to light up the joint for you. 

The flush in his cheeks, the rosy color taking over his face, his squirming makes satisfaction rush you. 

You were teasing him all morning, all afternoon and every time you added one more, you wanted to risk more, but now things just have gotten out of hand, you got lost in your own little game and you let your feelings, your desires take full control of you. 

Poor Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself as he looks down at you, if it wasn’t for the alcohol in his system, he would lose all composure and stutter like a little kid around his crush. He manages to reach for the lighter and he never looks away from your pretty eyes or your lips, or the shirt that keeps riding up on your thighs, a little more and more. 

He lights the joint and he is surprised when you don’t look away, when your eyes stay locked with his and a satisfied moan escapes you – only worsening his case. You inhale deeply and furrow your eyebrows in concentration, a lazy smile spreads on your kissable lips and you lean back further after blowing out the smoke. You bring your knees up to your chest and hand him the joint. “That’s nice,” you sigh out in pleasure, “I needed that.” 

“You’re starting to sound like an addict,” Eddie smirks, hiding his blushing cheeks behind his curls as he takes the joint from your fingers and places it between his lips, unaware of the way you follow his every movement as he gets comfortable beside you, resting his feet on the table, he stretches his arm out and wraps it around the headrest behind you. 

“What… movie did you pick out?” You ask him and he doesn’t even notice your stuttering or the way your eyes are glued to his exposed skin as his shirt rides up, exposing his happy trail. 

Eddie shrugs, reaching for the remote, he glances at you, “I dunno, one of the movies Steve recommended we should watch.” 

“Oh?”

“Mhmm,” He nods and presses play before he throws the remote on the coffee table, “let’s see how good his taste is.”

“You already know he loves the cheesy shit,” you laugh and scoot closer to him with your wine glass still in your hand, you’re searching for his warmth. 

“Yeah, he does,” Eddie chuckles. 

He lowers his gaze to your thighs, noticing the goosebumps on your skin, he puts the joint into the ashtray and he reaches for the knitted blanket thrown over the couch, he spreads it open and covers your legs with it, “don’t want you freezing, sweets,” he murmurs. 

Your eyes soften for him, a smile spreading on your lips. You lean forward and place your wine glass on the coffee table and then you scoot closer to him and throw the blanket over his lap as well before you place your head on his chest, snuggling up against him with a content look on your face… beside the blushing on your cheeks. 

Eddie wraps his arm around you without a second thought – this is nothing unusual for you, neither is the hand holding, or the sharing of clothes or the intimate touches but everything you do today, that you usually do as well, feels so different, it makes him nervous, it makes you nervous, it feels like the first time. 

And when you place your hand above his heart, he grows anxious that you might feel just how strongly it’s beating for you, he is scared that you will figure out his feelings and that that will make you run, run from him. 

“Your heart is racing,” you whisper softly, causing him to tense up a little but when you press your chin against his chest and you gaze up into his eyes, he feels a sense of calmness bleed through him, safety. 

Eddie blinks, not knowing what to say without giving away the truth, without giving away just how much he wants to kiss you right now, how much he wants to make you his, how badly he wants to confess and get it off his chest. 

“Is everything okay?” Your angelic voice makes him feel weak, the candle light makes you look so soft, your scent makes him feel drunk, his lips yearn to touch yours, his heart screams for you. 

God, he really wants to kiss you so bad. 

And he wants to kiss you even more when he sees the way your own eyes flicker between his lips, his neck and his eyes. He tightens his hold on you, prompting you to scoot even closer as you lean your warm body into his as your hand slips down to his stomach, your nails grazing the sliver of exposed skin on his stomach, he nearly whimpers at the feeling. You truly know how to drive him crazy. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, lips curling into a smile, “everything is perfect.” 

Almost perfect. 

It would be perfect if he could just grab your face and smash his lips against yours, kissing you breathless. 

You bite your lower lip as you keep staring up at him, you look as though you want to say something, your eyebrows pull together whenever you hold something back, whenever you desire to speak up about something – he doesn’t pressure you to talk though, he never does, he gives you time, as always. 

His eyelashes flutter, his lips part in surprise when he watches you move closer to him, closer and closer until your lips are pressed against his jaw, you peck him once before you shyly pull away and bury your face in his chest, turning your attention back to the TV right as the movie begins to play and he is glad that you do, because his eyes widen the way they probably never did before and blood rushes to his cheeks, no doubt making him look like a tomato right now, his heart feels as though it will beat out of his chest at any moment. 

You were teasing him this morning, you were very clear about that, the smirk and the smugness on your face gave it away every time but you are no longer teasing now, this is different, this is something else, this is something new. 

Eddie swallows the lump in his throat and he takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly and shakily. 

He wonders if you know the effect you have on him, he wonders if you know how he feels for you, he wonders if you know just what he would do for you. 

“Pass me the joint?” He whispers, not recognizing his own voice due to how shaky it is. 

You do as he asks, pulling away for just a second, you reach for the joint and hand it to him before you settle back comfortably against his chest, pressing your cheek tightly against it. 

Despite the nervousness in him, he keeps his arm wrapped around you tightly, and he even takes it a little further, becoming a little bolder, he sneaks his hand under your shirt and lays his plat flatly against your warm back.

You sigh in contentment and curl further into him, welcoming the touch of his hand, especially when he starts rubbing up and down. 

“That feels so nice,” you murmur, moaning softly, “don’t stop, Eddie.” 

Of course it wasn’t the greatest move to make, of course it would backfire, of course he would be the one with the problem. It’s already not helping that you’re almost fully on top of him, hand underneath his shirt as your nails scratch against his skin and now you are moaning because of him. 

He places the joint between his lips and takes a long drag, needing it desperately. 

“Your hands always feel so nice, Eds.” The words tumble fall from your lips just like that, like you no longer find yourself caring about the consequences of your words or your actions, maybe it’s the alcohol and the weed in your system that makes you so careless and bold, or maybe it’s the reassuring touch of your best friend that gives you the confidence to let you say what’s on your mind. 

Eddie freezes, shocked he stares at the movie playing on the screen, his hand stops moving as well for a moment, he wonders if he really heard you right. You press against his hand again, wanting more. 

“And you don’t know what they can do, sweets,” he rasps into your ear, confidently and like he isn’t losing his mind over you. 

A whimper sounds through the room, your whimper. You try to conceal it by coughing into your hand but he heard it, and he felt how you tensed up at his words.

He swallows harshly, squirming beneath you, he tries his hardest to hold back that growl. His hand slips from under your shirt and down to your thigh when you lean forward to reach for the joint in the ashtray. 

“Rolling good joints?” You murmur, trying to hide your nervousness and how flustered you really are. 

Eddie can’t help but snort, mumbling a soft ‘sure’ to your question. 

Despite the tension in the room and your unwanted awkwardness, time keeps passing and the night goes on, the movie continues playing, moving into a direction that neither of you expected at the start of it – what begins with an innocent scene of the beautiful lead getting ready for her date with the guy she is keeping a secret, develops into something different, something more, something that should not have the effect on you that it does right now but when they start kissing in his car, slowly and sensually at first, her fingers buried in his long hair as his slip under her shirt, you can’t help but bite your lip. Your skin grows hot, your thighs clench together, your grip on his shirt tightens as your mind flips this scene into you kissing Eddie in his car. 

The wine was supposed to help, the weed too, but neither of them did, neither of them managed to give you the calming effect that you were hoping for, if anything both only heightened your senses and intensified absolutely everything in you, because suddenly, his body feels so much closer, his cologne so much more intoxicating than usual, his touch heating your skin on fire, his breath on your skin tickles you and those evil thoughts in your head make you wonder what it would feel like to feel his breath elsewhere, to feel his lips on your skin and his hands holding you tightly, keeping you in place as his lips touch parts of you only your hands did before. 

Your heart starts beating faster and you begin to lose composure, the rational voice in your head is gone for good, desire and need taking over now, a confidence you didn’t know you had rushing through you as you move your leg, pressing the heel of your foot against his shin. 

And while you are getting bolder, Eddie is trying his best to stay calm, to not act upon his feelings and ruin the one good thing in his life, despite the clear signs you are currently giving, he makes no move, even when he wants nothing more but to bury his face in your neck and suck on your skin until you are marked up by him. The smell of your perfume drives him insane, the feeling of your skin pressed against his makes his stomach flutter with no end near in sight, his heart hasn’t stopped racing yet. 

The blanket slips from your lower half, his shirt has ridden up on your body, revealing the panties you are wearing, the black lace resting so perfectly on your soft skin. He clenches his jaw at the sight of it, biting back the moan that wants to fall off his lips so badly. 

Something else flutters now, not just his heart or those butterflies in his stomach and it makes him so uncomfortable because he won’t be able to hide it, not right now. 

Soft moans fill the living room, along with the sounds of lips smacking together. You bite your lip even harder, hold onto him even tighter as your eyes stay glued to the screen, watching intently as the couple undresses each other slowly, their hands becoming more and more desperate on each other, whimpers getting louder. 

You are so lost in it, you let your body move on its own, your foot continues to slide up his shin and his knee, hip angling as you twist your body further into him. As the scene gets more and more intense, the thoughts in your head do too. 

The coil in your stomach grows, burning hotly, you are throbbing between your legs, growing wetter and wetter each passing second as you imagine yourself moaning like the girl on the TV – moaning for him, with him. 

Eddie is frozen in place, stunned at everything that is happening this very moment, not only is the scene very erotic but the moves you are pulling now are just about enough for him to get hard – and he can’t exactly conceal anything, not when he is wearing grey sweatpants and you are tightly pressed against him. 

Do you even know what you are doing to him? 

When Eddie shifts beneath you and his fingers dig deeper into your skin, you lower your head and tear your eyes from the screen to his lap and your mouth waters in an instant, eyes growing wide and the burning in your stomach only worsens. 

“Got a problem there, Eds?” You blurt out as you stare at the very prominent bulge.

He wants to crawl under the blanket and hide his flustered face but instead he rolls his eyes, trying to act cool, averting his gaze from you and back to the screen, pretending that it’s the girl in the movie that caused this. 

“I am just a man, leave me alone…”

A giggle escapes you, and you look up at your best friend to find him blushing furiously. His long lashes kissing his skin every time he blinks, his dark eyes shine so prettily, his lips are just so… so kissable. His neck is so perfect to be marked up by you. His dark hair cascading down to his shoulders so perfectly, but you want to make a mess of him. 

“Aw, poor man,” you tease him before you finally let go of any doubts, of any fears or anxious thoughts, you grab the joint from between his fingers and put it back on the ashtray and then, you lean back to him and do something that you always craved to do, you press your lips against his jaw, kissing him. 

His lips part in surprise, heart stopping for a moment, he stares into blank space now as you repeat the motion, pressing your lips against his skin again and again, humming in contentment. 

His legs feel like jelly and if he wasn’t sitting down already, he surely would’ve felt his knees buckle at this electric touch. Words can’t describe the feeling of this, of you. He imagined this so many times, your lips on his skin, just the imagination of it had him feeling giddy but this, he can’t even function. 

You move closer and closer, your hand finding the chain around his neck, your breath kissing his skin, you gaze up at him with those pretty eyes that could make him do anything you would ask for. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing…?” He finds his voice again. 

You shrug, looking at him innocently, “I don’t know, I just want to kiss your face, is that so bad?” You ask before you lean in again, not waiting for an answer from him, you press your lips back against his jaw, finger hooked around his chain and your other hand moving from his chest and up to his hair, giving it a slight pull. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed, the soft smile that rested on his features before slowly falling now. He clenches his jaw when you kiss it again and again, his heart races like crazy now, the feelings in him, the love he feels for you bursting in him as he finally gets a taste of what things could be like if you were his girl. 

You light up a fire in him, but make him weak at the same time, you make him feel safe but he also burns for you, he desires you in ways he wasn’t even aware existed, only a taste of this, of you, could kill him because if he can’t have you again after having you once, he surely will die slowly and torturously as he forever will be reminded of this, of what could be. 

He breathes in shakily as his hands fall to your waist, gripping you tighter than ever before, it takes everything in him not to grab your face and kiss you senseless but it takes even more to stop you. 

He wants this, he wants you so bad, he wants to keep feeling your lips, your touch, you. 

But what is this to you? 

His hand moves up to the back of your neck, he wraps his fingers around it, pulling you away softly with a deep inhale.

“Don’t do this to me now, darling,” he whispers weakly, not caring about how vulnerable he sounds, how vulnerable he must look right now. 

You ignore his pleading, and you move closer again, straddling his thigh as you wrap your arms around his neck, you look into his eyes as you inch closer and closer to him, no longer caring about anything. You kiss his cheek softly and then the other, noting the soft sigh falling from his lips, the grip of his hand on you becoming tighter and stronger. 

Eddie is breathing heavily now, he doesn’t even know what to do with himself as your lips are so close to his own. 

“You’re killing me here, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

You pull back to look at him, taking in the intense emotions flashing in his eyes as he stares at you with nothing but hunger, his eyes flicking back and forth between your lips and your neck. 

“Why?” You whisper innocently as you lean in again and without thinking, you press your lips to the corner of his mouth. 

Eddie’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, a curse word falls from his lips as he clenches his jaw again. 

“Because I’m trying to hold back.” 

“Who says I want you to?” You ask softly and he opens his eyes again, tilting his head to the side, he furrows his brows at you. 

“Don’t do this to me, baby, you know how bad I–” 

The brush of your knee against his bulge as you throw your leg over his thigh completely leaves the words stuck in his throat, you straddle him the way you only ever did in his dreams. 

“How bad you what?” You whisper as you slowly lean your forehead against his, letting your lips brush against his own as you gaze into his eyes. 

You can see the way he is holding back from doing what he wants, what you both want, so you give him a little push. You nuzzle your nose against his, giving him that soft look that gets you anything you want, that makes him weak. 

If only you knew just the feelings you cause inside of him. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, he shuts down all the racing thoughts in his head and finally, he cups your cheeks, holding your face gently. 

“Oh, fuck me,” he whispers and smashes his lips against yours, kissing you finally. He pushes all his fears and his insecurities aside, not wanting to dwell on them any longer, not wanting to think of them now when he gets the chance to do this and your whimper, that needy little sound that comes from you when you kiss him back only fuels his need to kiss you harder and deeper. 

You press yourself against him, wrapping your arms around him tightly, you bury your fingers into his curls, taking a fistful of his hair as you move your lips against his, slowly at first. You get so lost in it, loving the way it feels to kiss his lips, to kiss your best friend. It’s everything and more than you imagined it to feel like, it feels so perfect, so right, so safe. You let yourself fall into him, melting into his embrace as his hands move down to your waist, holding you tightly the way you do to him. 

The sound of your sighs and moans, lips smacking and the movie still playing in the back, whimpers coming from the girl on the TV makes it all a little more intense, because the burning in your thighs becomes unbearable, the feeling of his tongue brushing against your lower lip as he pushes you down against his bulge has you aching and yearning. 

To Eddie this feels like a dream, like it’s something not real, not even close to being real because this is something that only ever lived in his mind, whether he was just thinking about you at work, while writing songs, while sitting next to you or while getting off in the middle of the night, this was only ever a dream but now it isn’t. The kiss is real, your moans are real, your body is truly pressed against his, you are sitting right on top of him, slowly dragging your hips along his aching dick and it feels so fucking good, better than he could ever even dream of. 

Everything in him burns for you, his heart, his soul, every cell, every organ, you are like a drug to him that he was already addicted to before he even tried it, but now? He is gone forever. A kiss that could lead to nothing, that could only stay this, a kiss, perhaps a mistake for you that you will regret come morning, enough to break him. 

What is it gonna be? The kiss that will lead to the start of something his heart screamed for since the very beginning? Or will this be his kiss of death? 

He has to be sure, he needs to be sure so he pulls away, begrudgingly so, he pulls away from the kiss that he never wants to stop, breathlessly, he opens his eyes to look at you for the first time after this change between you both but you are not having it, leaning in with a whine, you peck his lips again, making his heart flutter. 

“Baby–” You cut him off by kissing him again, desperately and he once again has to pull away reluctantly. 

“Baby, hear me out first, fuck–” he groans when you peck his lips again, whining at him in a way that has him clenching his jaw but this time, he cups your cheeks and pulls you away from him and you finally open your eyes and look at him, pouting at him with a needy look on your face. Fuck. “Fucking hell, wait– you need to tell me if you really want this or if its the alcohol and the weed talking.” 

You shake your head wildly, grabbing his wrists as you lean closer again, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his chin and finally his lips again, the way you always desired to, the way you always dreamed of, the way you always denied yourself of it when it’s all you ever wanted. 

“Is it the alcohol and the weed talking for you?” You murmur against his lips, looking at him through hooded eyes. 

With a frown he shakes his head, “fuck no, I’ve wanted this for so long, sweetheart, you have no idea for how long.” He admits openly, not caring about being vulnerable right now, about admitting his feelings for you – the friendship is ruined now. 

Your lips twitch, eyes shining with nothing but love for him, for your best friend, your heart bursts in your chest, everything in you calms down yet screams in joy. You can see the anxiety in his eyes, the fear that lingers within him, you want to take it. 

“Good, then we’re on the same page,” you whisper happily, nuzzling your nose against his. 

Eddie blinks, staring at you, stunned. A shaky breath falls from his lips, his heart has stopped beating for a moment, the world has stopped moving, time has stopped. He had dreamed of this for so long, fantasized about what it would feel like to kiss you, to touch you, to hold you, to love on you but he had never thought of this, simply because he never thought it would happen, that it would be a possibility, you feeling the same. He thought he was doomed, cursed to spend his life loving you from afar and watching you slip through his fingers as the years would pass, he would love you while you would love someone else, while you would build a life with someone else, he would stay your best friend, the obsessed, lovesick best friend who would never move on, the best friend who would choose you over and over again even if he was given the chance to be loved by someone else, he would never love anyone the way he loves you, his heart belongs to you, fully. He is yours, he had always been yours but he never thought that you could be his, no matter how many nights he spent wishing for it. Life had never been kind to him so why would it grant him the highest wish he has? And yet, here you are, looking at him as though he hung the stars and the moon, as though he is the best thing that was ever created, like he is something pure, something beautiful, something worth loving. Have you always looked at him this way? 

His eyes start burning as his heart starts beating again, the warmth he felt because of you, turning into burning desire, the desire to claim you like he had always wanted to, to rip his heart from his chest and give it to you. 

You whisper his name sweetly, grabbing his hand softly, you move it down your shoulder, your chest and finally placing it above your beating heart. 

“All for you, baby.” 

His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes flicker between your face and his hand, feeling the racing of your heart that matches the beat of his own. His eyes soften, love taking over the lust that was flashing in them just moments ago. He doesn’t know what to say, the words are stuck in his throat, he is speechless. 

You can see it, you can see the shock in his eyes, he stares at you like he wonders if this is real or not. He is breathing heavily, blinking slowly, his lips part, cheeks flushing. 

“Eddie–”

Suddenly, he moves forward and grabs your cheeks again, slamming his lips against yours roughly, desperately. He kisses you hotly, strongly, more intensely than he did before, like he is scared that you might slip away if he doesn’t do it this way. 

You throw your arms around his neck again, whining needily into the kiss, you part his lips with your tongue and slip it into his mouth, deepening the kiss further as you grind your hips against him, making him moan against your lips as he holds you stronger, gripping you tightly as though he is scared that you will slip away if he doesn’t. 

This kiss is much hungrier than the first, so much deeper and intense, it’s filled with a desperation that was pent up for a long, long time – not weeks or even months, but years. He waited for years for this, you can feel it and your heart races wildly for him. The need to show him just how much you want him too, how you reciprocate his love burns so deeply within you. 

You grind your hips against his, feeling just how hard he is for you, the ache between your legs becomes worse, unbearable, and he can tell, he can feel by the way you move your hips, by the sounds of your needy whines. 

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself, never had he felt such desperation before, such an overwhelming amount of love. He feels stuck between wanting to cry out of pure happiness while making love to you and devouring you vigorously as he shows you just how much he needs, wants you. 

His ringed fingers dig into your waist and he begins to push you off of him, guiding you down against the soft cushions without breaking the kiss, he groans against your lips when you spread your legs for him, tugging him on top of you before he can even do it himself. God, you truly want him just as much.

Eddie slides his hand up your body, cupping your cheek once more, he continues kissing you, clashing his tongue against yours, making you mewl as he takes control and grinds against you, a movement that tears out a different kind of sound in you, a whine so needy that it sends shockwaves through his body. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathes against your lips heavily as he pulls away from the kiss and opens his eyes to reveal just how dark they are now. 

You wrap your legs around his waist, causing your shirt to ride up in the process, your panties exposed to him now. 

He clenches his jaw, trying to control himself but it’s becoming so hard when you are under him like this, looking up at him with those needy eyes as you grab each side of his neck, leaning up to kiss him, again and again, pecking his cheeks and his lips before you trail the kisses down to his jawline. 

“I need you so bad, Eds,” you whisper into his skin, moving your hand down his shoulder and his arm, fingernails grazing his goosebump covered skin, you take his hand in yours and bring it back down to your body, placing it on your chest, “please?” You ask in desperation. 

He takes a deep breath, making his heart flutter and his body burn when he grabs at your boobs for the very first time. 

“Please what?” He murmurs as he presses you down again so he can latch his lips onto your jawline. “Tell me what you need, sweet girl. My fingers, my tongue… or my cock?” He surprises himself when those words fall off his lips when he doesn’t even know how to function at this moment. 

You shut your eyes and bite your lip when he kisses down your neck, finding your sweet spot with no struggle, he starts sucking. 

“Mmm, y-your fingers,” you whimper as you take his other free hand and guide it down your stomach slowly, “want your fingers, Eddie and then your cock.”

He could cum right here and there, he had dreamed of this too many times. 

“Yeah?” He rasps against you, still kissing your neck, “you want me to fuck you with my fingers first?”

You nod wildly, bringing his hand down to your laced panties, you spread your legs further, grinding against him needily. You are so wet, having soaked through your panties already. 

“I-I always think about you when I touch myself, I imagine it’s your fingers instead of mine,” you admit with burning cheeks. 

Eddie opens his eyes widely, leaning back from your neck after marking it up, he looks at your blushing face. 

“R-Really?” He stutters, though with a satisfied look on his face. 

Through hooded eyes, you look at your best friend as you nod shyly, humming. 

“Guess we got something in common then,” Eddie smirks as he leans down, pressing his forehead against yours, he pecks your lips as he slips his fingers down between your legs, finally, cupping your pussy, he presses against your wetness, growling at the feeling. 

“Fuck baby, you’re soaked.”

“I always am for you!” You whine, desperately grinding against the heel of his hand. 

His cock twitches at your words, stomach tensing up. 

The thought that you might’ve been sitting next to him during movie nights, squirming because of him, waiting to go home so you could touch yourself while thinking of him drives him insane. If he had known… he could’ve done this way sooner. 

Eddie pushes your panties aside, dipping his fingers through your folds, he makes both you and himself moan. 

“Don’t tease,” you whimper, bucking your hips and pressing yourself against him as he teases your entrance. 

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Eddie says as he brings his digits up to your clit, “can’t believe you’re letting me do this.”

While the shocked look on his face and the disbelief is cute, you can tell what is going on – what went on in his head all this time that he thought that his feelings would never be reciprocated. 

You grab his face and smash your lips against his again, kissing him just as roughly as he kissed you the second time, you try to show him, to make him feel what had been there all this time, and he welcomes it so happily, kissing you back right away while his fingers continue to move against your clit, teasingly at first, intensifying the aching inside of you. He licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours as he moans needily, getting lost in the feeling he had craved for so long.

His stomach flutters when you wrap one leg around his waist while rolling your hips, wanting and needing more, he can feel you getting wetter and wetter, moans getting louder, lips moving sloppier. He slips his fingers lower, dipping his middle finger into you slowly, inching it inside of you, pulling the neediest sounds out of you as you clench around him already. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your mouth, “you’re so tight.”

“More!” You demand with a whine, making him chuckle. 

“More huh? One finger not enough for you, sweets?” He asks to which you shake your head, furrowing your brows when he adds a second finger, scissoring them inside of you as he opens you up. 

“No, I-I want more,” you whimper at the feeling of him splitting you open, preparing you for his dick, just the thought of it has you drooling already. “I need–” the words die on your tongue and you quickly forget what you even wanted to say when he starts fucking you in slow but deep movements. 

“You need what, hmm?” He taunts you, unable to hide the satisfied smirk on his face as he watches you fall apart beneath him, losing your mind over just his fingers as your jaw falls slack and those sweet sounds begin to fill the room along with the squelching of your pussy. “God… You’re so fucking wet.” Eddie doesn’t even know what to do with himself, his heart is beating like crazy, his cock is aching in his grey sweats that feel way too tight by now, pre cum already leaking through the thick material, something he should feel embarrassed about, but he can’t, not when you look him up and down like you’re some hungry and feral animal in heat. 

“All because of you, I’ve been wet all day!” You whine as you grab at his hair when he buries his face in your neck, breathing heavily against your skin as he covers you in love bites. He growls against you, loving those words a little too much. 

His wrist starts moving faster, fingers splitting you open, he fucks them in and out of you. 

“Do you fuck your tight little pussy like this too?” 

Your brows are scrunched together so tightly, eyes rolling back when he curls them inside of you, hitting just the right spot to make you cry out. 

“N-No! Not t-this good!” 

You roll your hips against his hand, craving to feel him deeper. Your hands are all over him, his hair, his shoulders, his back, gripping at his shirt as you hold on for dear life while he sucks on your neck and fingerfucks your sopping pussy. The room is filled with such dirty sounds, something that should leave you a blushing mess, something that should leave your cheeks burning in embarrassment but you cannot bother to care, it just feels so good and Eddie fucking loves it. 

He pulls back to look at you, to admire your face and those marks he left on you, proudly he looks down at you, a look of love, a look of lust flashing in his eyes. He watches the way you bite your lip, eyes open widely again, you admire him too. And then, you push yourself up on your elbow, pecking his lips before you look down at his hand, wanting to see, wanting to watch his fingers moving in and out of you. 

“You like that, huh?” He mumbles as he presses his forehead against yours, “you like being fucked by your best friend like this?” 

You whimper again, louder this time as you nod, clenching around his fingers so tightly that he can’t help but growl – how is he going to last? How will he be able to control himself not to cum the second he enters you? 

Everything becomes so much hotter, the air around you, the energy in this room, his body against yours, his fingers inside of you, the coil in your stomach, everything starts burning and somehow, it only fuels the need in you. 

You grab at the hem of your shirt and push it up to your collarbones, exposing your chest to him, your boobs bounce as you throw your head back against the pillow to see him better and his reaction does not disappoint, if you weren’t so lost in pleasure you would have giggled at the awestruck look on his face, at the wide eyes and the parted lips. 

“Baby,” he whispers as he presses his large hand to your now bare waist, slipping it upwards slowly, “you’re unreal, fuck… you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as though in disbelief, staring down at you as though you are something that came straight out of his imagination. He grabs your boob roughly, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he leans down and wraps his lips against the other, wasting no time to suck on it, making you arch your back against him as you throw your hand into his curls, fingers grazing his scalp as you give it a harsh tug, something that he fucking loves. 

“I-I… oh my god!” You whimper as tears begin to pull in your eyes when he presses his thumb to your clit, teasing you. “D-Don’t stop! Don’t stop, Eddie! That feels so good!” You nearly scream as he starts moving his fingers faster than before, fucking them in and out of you roughly. You are clenching around him, digging your heel into his ass as you move along to his thrusts. 

He looks up at you, loving the sight of you coming undone before him, it’s the prettiest sight to him. He can’t wait to watch you fall apart beneath him when he actually fucks you. He licks around your nipple, adding more pleasure to your body. 

“Eddie!” You writhe beneath him, blinking the tears away as you look down at him. Your stomach tenses up, burning as the pleasure builds up more and more, almost becoming unbearable, everything inside of you is lit on fire, absolutely every part of you. Your toes curl, your knuckles turn white from how rough you are grabbing at his curls, the sounds that fall from your mouth are almost not recognizable, sounding too pornographic but you have never felt anything like this before, especially not from just being finger fucked. 

Eddie pushes himself back up, straightening his back, he slides his hand further up your chest, passing your collarbones and settling around your throat, he tests the waters at first, needing you to be okay with this – he watches the way your eyes darken at this, lips parting as you push yourself up on your elbows, you bring your hand up to his wrist, wrapping your fingers tightly around it, you press it harder against your throat, asking him to choke you. 

Eddie laughs darkly, lips curling into a satisfied grin, he shakes his head at you, “of course you’re into that shit. You’re a naughty girl aren’t you?” 

It takes you a moment to answer his question because the view before you is just a little too distracting. Eddie hovers over you with one hand between your thighs, knuckle deep buried inside of you while his other hand is now wrapped around your throat, rings on, veins popping out of his tattooed forearm, dark curls falling in front of his face as he looks down at you like he wants to devour you but make love to you at the same time. 

God, he is beautiful. 

Your eyes move down his body, the wet patch on his sweatpants, the bulge making you drool, making you want to drop to your knees for him, worship him, choke on him, suck the soul out of him. You can’t help yourself, moving your hand down his stomach, you grab his dick, wiping the smirk off his face completely as he moans loudly. 

“F-Fuck, sweetheart.”

You palm him through his sweats, teasing him the way he teased you, though Eddie is less patient than you are. His hips stutter, a whimper falls off his lips so prettily and you almost tease him for it but he curls his fingers so deeply inside of you, presses his thumb against your clit so strongly that your vision blurs for a second. 

“Eddie… Eddie!” You say his name twice, pressing your hand stronger against him, you hook your fingers around the band of his pants. 

“D-Don’t tease me or else I’ll cum right this second,” he growls as his cheeks start burning at his words. 

“Don’t do that,” you warn as you push his pants down just enough, his dick slaps against his stomach, precum leaking out and rolling down his length, his tip an angry red, thick veins so prominent. Your eyes widen and your mouth waters at the sight of him, of his size, his length. 

Eddie looks down at you with burning cheeks and begging eyes, he feels the way you clench around his fingers, feels how you soak his digits. 

You look at him intensely, watching him fall apart at nothing but the touch of your hand, his eyelashes flutter, a content sigh falling from his lips when you wrap your fingers around his length, “your cock is so pretty, Eds,” you purr, jerking him off slowly, you tease him a little, “I want to choke on it.”

His hips stutter, cock twitching in your hand as he whimpers at your words, “fuck… you can’t just say that to me.”

You pull your hand away from him, holding it up to him, “spit.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, eyes darkening further but he complies, right away, he spits into your hand and watches the way you bring it back down to his dick, wrapping your fingers around him again, you grip him just perfectly, jerking him off in a way that he only ever dreamed off. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” he moans, clenching his jaw in concentration, his eyes moving back and forth between your glistening pussy and your hand getting him off. “I-I won’t last long,” he warns you, wanting to get lost in the pleasure, but even more so, he wants to feel you wrapped around him. 

With your free hand, you tug at his wrist, needing to feel his lips on yours again and without wasting a second, he slams his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly as he takes full control, parting your lips with his tongue, he moans into your mouth when you clench around his fingers again. 

The room is now filled with heavy moans, no longer coming from the TV but from you and him, desperation so clear in both your voices, lips smacking against one another so needily and the alcohol, the weed in your systems only makes it all a tad bit more intense. 

As much as Eddie is enjoying the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, he has to stop you or else he will cum before getting what he actually wants. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs against you, lips twitching when you already whine in protest, “baby, I-I fuck… I need you stop or else I’ll cum too fucking soon.”

You pull away begrudgingly, wanting to pout at him but he quickly distracts you by speeding up his fingers inside of you. Letting go of your throat, he brings his now free hand down to your clit, wasting no second to play with your sensitive nub while he curls and slams his fingers in and out of you. 

A gasp falls from your lips as he repeatedly brushes your sweet spot, the one that allows you to see stars. A single tear slips down your cheek, one that he instantly kisses away. You want to look at him, you want to watch your best friend but the pleasure becomes too much and you can’t help but shut your eyes tightly. Your stomach burns in a way that has you whimpering and when you try to close your legs to relieve that pleasurable pain, he grabs your knee and stops you. 

“I can feel you clenching around my fingers, baby,” he murmurs hotly against your lips, “I know you want to cum, so let go for me,” he whispers, “let go.” One more swipe against your clit, one last thrust, one more kiss to your neck and you come undone for your Eddie, leaking around his fingers as your body trembles beneath his. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper. 

He slows down his movements, looking down at your legs to see them shaking, just from this. He lets you ride out your orgasm, giving you a moment to catch your breath. He kisses your face, your cheeks, your forehead, your jawline and your lips. And then, he pulls his fingers out of you, his mouth waters at the sight of your slick, wasting no time to bring his digits up to his lips, he dips them on his tongue, closing his eyes at your taste, he moans loudly. 

You open your eyes at the sound, stunned, you stare at him in hunger and lust, watching the way he laps at his fingers that were inside of you just seconds ago. His eyes are closed and he looks content. If you hadn’t been so feral already, you definitely would have been by now. 

“You’re even sweeter than I thought,” he mewls after releasing his fingers with a pop, opening his eyes to look down at you with a smirk. “I can’t wait to take my time and eat your pussy.” 

You grab him by the chain around his neck, tugging at it harshly, you’re surprised it doesn’t break by the force, you pull him back down against you and kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. 

Eddie smiles against your lips, loving the way you moan at your own taste. He feels your hands sliding down his back, tugging at his shirt, demanding him to take it off and he does so instantly, only breaking the kiss for a second so he can tear it off his skin before his lips are back on yours, his pants are next to go as you push them down further, with your help he kicks them off, not caring where they land. 

He hooks his finger around your ruined panties, he begins to tug at them and you push your hips up so he can take them off, dragging them down your legs, he throws them to the ground beside his clothes before you both pull away from the kiss to take off the shirt that is still bunched up over your chest. 

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, looking at you in awe and then, his lips return to you and he places his elbows on either side of your head, pressing his chest against yours as you wrap your legs around his waist, tugging him closer and closer until nothing separates you any longer, until he feels your heat against his aching dick and he is so close, so close to getting what he wanted, until he remembers. 

“Fuck,” he curses in annoyance, clenching his jaw already as he breaks the kiss, “wait…” But you don’t listen, cupping his cheeks, you make it even harder for him when you keep kissing him, pleading for more. 

Frustration bubbles up inside of him and he almost wants to cry. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, shakily. “Wait, wait, wait…”

Finally, you pull away, eyes filled with curiosity, “what?”

“I don’t–” he cuts himself off, rolling his eyes as he clenches his fists and closes his eyes for a moment, “I don’t have a condom,” he says through gritted teeth, feeling dejected but then he feels you pull him closer again, cupping the back of his neck, you press your lips back against his.

“It’s okay, I’m on birth control and I’m clean,” you whisper, pressing your heel against his bum, ��I waited too long for this, so don’t stop… please, Eddie.” 

A growl threatens to spill from his lips, the feeling of frustration is suddenly replaced by something else, not only the need he had felt for so long but something else, something much stronger, something that has him fighting his inner demons. 

He opens his eyes, staring at you as though you had gone crazy. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, sweets?” 

You giggle so cutely at that, in a way that makes him want to pound you into this couch until you are nothing but a screaming mess. 

“I have an idea,” you admit smugly, batting your eyelashes at him as your eyes flicker back and forth between his tattoos and his lips, hand already moving down his stomach, fingers reaching for him, you bite your lip as you look into his eyes, he is staring at you so intensely that it makes you blush. You wrap your fingers around his length again, mewling when you guide him through your wet folds, teasing both you and himself. 

Eddie grips the pillow beneath your head, cursing at the feeling. You can tell that he is trying to control himself, trying to keep his composure but he is losing it quickly when he feels your heat, your wetness. 

With your free hand, you hold onto his bicep, looking up at him with begging eyes, “please, fuck me, Eddie,” you whisper as you tilt your head up to kiss his lips, “show me how bad you want me, don’t hold back… please–” 

With a growl, he lets your words die on your tongue, replacing your hand with his own, he guides himself to your entrance, nudging it with the leaking tip of his cock, he presses his forehead and his lips to yours as he thrusts inside of you, torturously, splitting you open around his length. 

His heart could burst for feeling you so close, so intimately, his love for you burning stronger than ever, the immortal flame getting bigger and bigger, his body feels on fire, his soul feels at home and now he knows you feel the same, when you hold him close and you kiss him so passionately, tightening your legs around his waist in order to feel him closer, whimpering into him in such a needy way while you keep grabbing at him like he isn’t close enough despite being pressed against you, he knows you feel the same, in every way. 

He pushes into you deeper and deeper, scrunching his eyebrows in concentration as he feels you fully, working you open with nothing between you. He feels your warmth, feels your heat around him, your wetness dripping down onto the couch beneath you as fills you up completely. He never felt anything like this before, he never thought he would but god, he is already addicted, he had always been to you but now even worse, he will never be the same again, he will come back to Hawkins a changed man. 

“Fucking hell, darling,” he growls against your lips as he stills inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size and himself a moment to concentrate so he doesn’t ruin this by coming too soon, though the thought of filling you up with his seed drives everything in him crazy, he wants it, craves it so bad. “You feel so… so perfect.”

You’re wailing, squirming beneath him, already looking down, wanting to see your bodies connected as sensitive whimpers escape your mouth. 

“Y-You’re so big, Eddie,” you say, eyes blurred with tears, words leaving your mouth breathlessly, “hurts so good.”

Your words don’t exactly do him a favor, especially when he opens his eyes and he looks down at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down heavily, the way you look down between your legs in desperation before your big eyes look up at him, glassy. Your lips are so puffy from all the kissing, your forehead glistening with sweat, your cheeks flushed. 

Your walls flutter around him, making it harder and harder for him. 

Eddie grabs your chin, “you’re so fucking gorgeous, baby, so fucking sweet and good for me but you’re driving me crazy, right now.”

“Fuck me,” you whimper, pouting at him as you hold his bicep harder, “please, fuck me, Eddie. I need it, I need you so bad– ah!” You scream out when he pulls out and slams back inside of you again. 

“Shh, I got you, I got you, baby,” he shushes your words, “can’t believe you are so desperate for my cock.” 

Your nails dig into his skin, your free hand gets lost in his hair, tugging at his curls as you roll your hips against his, going crazy at the feeling of him inside of you. 

“Please, please, please!” 

Eddie groans at your pleading, at the obvious desperation, at the need that you feel for him, and only him. His left knee digs into the soft cushions on the couch and he places his right foot against the floor, watching your face intently as he starts rolling his hips, making you gasp out loudly. 

“Oh my–” He pants, eyes rolling back as your name falls from his lips. 

“You… I…” You stutter, unable to find the right words, to even come up with anything as you lose yourself in this feeling. Your mouth waters and so do your eyes, his chain dangles before your face as he thrusts into you, faster and faster, deeper and rougher. You can’t help but clench around him, he fills you up so perfectly, his tip brushes against that one spot so rightly. 

You throw your arms around him as he cups the top of your head, holding eye contact with you as he rolls his hips harder. 

“I’m so fucking obsessed with you, do you even know that?” He kisses your lips, smacking them loudly against yours. 

“Mmm, I’m obsessed with you too, baby,” you whimper as you meet his thrusts, rolling your hips as well. 

“I never thought I’d get to have this, to have you.” 

You only hold onto him tighter in response, leaning into his neck, you brush your nose against it and latch your lips onto his neck, pecking along until you find that one spot that makes him whine, you start sucking, marking him up the way he did to you, not knowing just how feral that makes him. 

To wear your marks on his skin, to be claimed as yours makes his heart burst but it awakens something in him, because suddenly, he feels the need to pound you into this couch and he does so, he snaps his hips into yours, thrusting roughly. 

“Eddie!” You scream out in a choked sob, digging your nails into his skin as you cling to his body. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he moans loudly, not bothering to hide just how desperate you make him feel. He cups the back of your neck and pulls you back down, wanting and needing to see your face, he wastes no second before his lips are back on yours and his hips strike roughly into you, cock slamming in and out of you, the squelching sounds of your pussy filling the room, along with your moans and the slapping sounds as he fucks you. 

Neither of you want to pull away from the kiss, no matter how sloppy it gets, you don’t want to break the kiss and neither does he, not even when you grow breathless. You cling to each like you never did before, welcoming the pleasure that becomes almost too much. There is soreness in your thighs, burning in your lower back and an overwhelming sensation inside of you, an itch that only he can mend. 

And Eddie, he feels as though he is losing his mind, getting to feel this, to feel you, to kiss you and swallow your moans as your dripping walls cling to his cock, twitching around him and begging to be filled. Your arms and legs are so tight around him, you beneath him like he had only seen you in his dreams and in his imagination, you’re shaking, whining and trembling and you are close, he can feel it by the way you are getting tighter and tighter after each of his thrusts. 

Reaching down, he hooks his forearm around the back of your knee and he brings it up, pushing it higher until he can thrust into you from a different angle, one that makes you scream out with a high pitched moan and the neediest look he had ever seen on your face. 

“Fuck… just like that, baby, scream for me,” he rasps out. 

“Y-You’re so good, fuck me… Eds! Your cock feels so nice, please don’t stop, don’t ever stop!” You sputter, not knowing just how those words make him feel. 

You don’t know where to look, his pretty face, how he looks as he fucks you like you only ever dreamed of, how pretty his face is when he moans your name so sexily or how his glistening cock pounds in and out of you. 

And Eddie struggles just the same, though he settles on watching your beautiful face, wanting to see you fall apart more and more. 

And though you don’t want this moment to end, and neither does he, you both drag it out for as long as you can, not caring about anything anymore, not caring about the mess you are making on the couch. You are both sweaty, you are leaking down onto the cushions and Eddie is sure that he ripped a hole into the pillow beneath you earlier from how roughly he held it. 

A strangled whine leaves your lips and he knows you can’t hold on any longer, so he brings his hand down your stomach, pressing his fingers against your clit, causing you to jerk and whimper against him. 

“You’re close, baby, I can feel it,” he whispers against your neck, not slowing down his movements in the slightest, if anything, he starts fucking you even deeper, making you scream louder now as your fingernails rip through his skin from how hard you’re grabbing him and he welcome that pleasuring burn, “cum around my cock, do it for me, sweetheart. I know you want to be my good girl.” 

With another loud whine, you finally let go of him, arching your back and shutting your eyes tightly, you cum around your best friend's cock, for the first but definitely not the last time. You tighten around him so strongly that his hips stutter and his knees almost buckle, heat spreads through his skin and his stomach tightens as his own body screams for release. 

He can’t wait any longer either and panic ripples through him when you hold him tighter than before, locking him in as you refuse to let go. It makes his heart flutter and it does make him want to release but–

“I need to pull out, sweetheart,” he says shakily, knowing all too well that he doesn’t actually want it and apparently, you don’t either because you start shaking your head at him, opening your needy eyes. 

“No, no, don’t make a mess– cum inside of me, please!” 

His hips stutter once more, his dick twitches achingly inside of you, “you can’t just fucking say that–” he whimpers, unable to finish the sentence, one more thrust and he spills inside of you, coating your walls with his seed as your name falls from his lips before he smashes his lips to yours for the hundredth time tonight, swallowing your cry. 

Tears of pleasure run down your cheeks, your leg starts slipping from his waist and his thrusts slow down, though his grip doesn’t loosen on you, he continues to hold you close, the way you do as well as you grab his shoulder and his bicep, squeezing him tightly while your tongue clashes against his. 

Your walls spasm and contract around his length, sending shockwaves and an unbearable amount of pleasure through his sensitive body. 

Slowly, he removes his hand from between your legs, sliding it up your hot body until he is cupping your cheek again, he makes you both whimper when he pulls his softening cock out of you. 

Your name rolls off his tongue when you both pull away from the kiss, he says it like it’s a blessing, like a prayer. Your eyes make contact again and you stare at each other for a moment, lovingly, adoringly, and then, you both smile and giggle and press your lips back against each other, pecking one another again and again. 

“My Eddie,” you whisper as you admire the marks you left on him. 

“Fuck,” he whispers when he realizes that this isn’t just a moment, that this isn’t just for now, for tonight, that you waited for it just like he has. He looks down at you, brushing away and tucking your hair behind your ear as he caresses your cheek, his heart soaring in his chest. “I can’t believe this happened.”

You giggle at him, “I’m glad it happened.”

“Yeah?” He grins lazily, eyes dropping to your chest as he leans down and presses his lips to your jaw, “I’m fucking on top of the world right now.”

You brush your fingers through his curls, giggling yet again. 

“You’re a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork, right?” He asks with a hopeful glint in his eyes, one that questions more than just this. He wants to be yours, he wants it so badly. 

You nod happily, eyes flashing with happiness. 

“Mhmm, you’re mine, all mine.”

“Fuck,” he whispers as he feels his sensitive dick twitching at your words, heart bursting inside of him, “I’m yours, all yours.” 

You tug him closer and closer, breathing against his lips as you eye him hungrily again, you feel him leaking out of you and it only makes your thighs burn again, “and I’m yours.” 

“Yeah, you are,” he rasps as his fingers dip inside of you, he groans at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you, he pushes it back into you with a moan, “you’re mine, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, Eddie,” you mewl, pushing your hips up and chasing for more already. 

“You want more?” 

You nod, “yes… more, please!”

Not needing to be told twice, he slowly pushes his fingers and his cum back into you, making you both moan at that. 

��You know what, I'm glad we did this today,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. 

“Yeah?” You moan, arching your back in pleasure when he curls his fingers inside of you. 

“Mhmm, that means I get to fuck you over and over and over for the whole weekend,” he smirks before he slams his lips against yours again, kissing you passionately and sensually while his fingers move and in out of you, creating a mess with his cum leaking out of you and your own wetness sticking to your thighs and his. 

You both fill the room with filthy noises, needy and desperately you touch each other, grabbing and pulling at each others hair as the night goes on, continuing to mark each other up, to taste one another, to fuck like animals in heat, the movie long forgotten as his tongue laps at your pussy when he is kneeled on the ground with your legs dangling of his shoulders and your fingers pull at his hair roughly. 

This night never ends, the pleasure continuing until the early morning hours, until you can no longer take it, until you both get too sensitive, until you’re both nothing but a panting, sweaty mess and even then, you still kiss and cling to one another. 

The night was filled with desperation, with pent up emotions, with filthiness yet with love and adoration, and this night has changed you both forever, for good. 

-

“So… What you’re telling me is–…” Steve begins, arms crossed over his chest, jaw clenched as he stands before you and Eddie with a stern look on his face. You are both on his couch, looking up at him like scolded children. “You need to buy me a new… bed?” 

You are blushing furiously, embarrassment written all over your face. You glare at Robin who is standing in the corner, sipping on her soda with an amused look on her face. 

“Uh… yeah.”

You know how badly Eddie wants to laugh, he is smug, you can see it on his face but he stays quiet, for a second at least. 

“And a new arm chair?” Steve mumbles, looking between you both. 

“Yeah.” Eddie snorts to which you elbow him, shushing him. 

“Don’t forget the flower vase,” Robin snickers. 

Steve throws his hands up, “and a fucking flower vase, thanks Robin!”

You put your finger up and straighten your back, “actually, the flower vase fell by itself–”

“Because you were fucking on top of the table!” Steve retorts to which your boyfriend chuckles in satisfaction, not being embarrassed by anything in the slightest. 

You turn to look at him, he only smirks at you and shrugs, holding your thigh tighter than before. 

“I’d buy a new couch too–”

“Eddie!” 

Robin moves closer and eyes you both, eyeing the matching marks on your necks. 

“I hope you used protection, at least.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, looking at you both expectedly, your flustered face gives you away completely as you sink deeper into the couch, wanting nothing more than to bury your face in Eddie’s neck. 

“Great, now I might be a fucking uncle.”

“Godfather,” Eddie corrects him, making you giggle. 

“Go to hell,” Steve shakes his head, though he can’t hide the look on his face and how delighted he is to hear that he would be considered a godfather if it were to happen. And despite the clear distaste on his face after hearing what you did at his cabin, he can’t help but feel happy for you both. 

Robin looks down with a smile on her face when Eddie wraps his arm around you and kisses your cheek softly and Steve’s eyes soften as well. 

He sighs and rolls his eyes as he finally takes a seat, he reaches for his beer and takes a sip. 

“I’m happy my plan worked but you both will go back, replace the furniture and clean everything up before I lose my shit and I kill you before my parents kill me.”

You nod at him with wide eyes, while Eddie furrows his eyebrows, “clean up? Oh, we did clean up and besides, we didn’t waste a single drop.” 

“Eddie,” you whine as you bury your face in your hands while Robin groans in disgust. 

Steve only sighs but his lips twitch slightly, curling into a smirk as he nods at Eddie. 

“At least I know your children aren’t running around my cabin.” 

You give Eddie a warning glance but he is already smirking at you, gripping your thigh harder, slipping under your skirt. 

“They’re somewhere else.” 

“Oh, gross!” Robin coughs and turns away with a frown on her face. 

“Eddie!” You whine and slap his chest to which he pulls you closer and kisses your cheek, chuckling in amusement. 

Steve shakes his head, sighing. 

“I’m never inviting you both to that summer house ever again.”

[camrlart]

whenever i’m alone with you

you make me feel like i am home again

[rumble-bee-art]

a local homosexual deals with an unfortunate crush by chewing on his hair and contemplating murder (we’ve all been there)

[lovebugism]

Someone knocks at the door while you and rockstar!Eddie are fucking and instead of stopping he goes faster while yelling ‘In a minute’ to the person at the door

the one where your friends keep catching you and eddie having sex (rockstar!eddie universe, established relationship, implied enemies to lovers, cw for smut 18+)

Let it be known, that it would take a nearly apocalyptic nuclear war — or something rapture adjacent, at the very least — for Eddie Munson to stop fucking you. Most people have learned this the hard way. You included.

You’re a panting mess beneath his pale, tattooed form. Eddie’s body, made of milky white silk, grows slick with a fine layer of sweat as he thrusts mercilessly into you. His curls sway around your face each time his lean hips collide with your open thighs. The dull clapping sound that fills the bedroom is punctuated by Eddie’s choked-back groans and your subdued whimpers.

The two of you always make it a point to be polite about your fucking — never quite as loud as you want to be, so as to keep from traumatizing your roommates. Like respectful adults. So it’s entirely Steve’s fault when he barges in with a halfhearted knock like a total psycho.

“Hey, do you guys wanna—” The boy freezes at the sight of his best friends, in a pile beneath the covers, who before now hated each other’s guts. His face screws together like he’s tasted something sour. “Jesus Christ…”

Eddie ceases his thrusts to toss Steve a look over his freckled shoulder. He never moves off of you, effectively shielding your naked body from his view, nor does he pull his stiff cock from your pulsing confines. Much to your horror.

“What?” the wild-haired boy wonders through labored breaths, face flushed red with sex.

“I was gonna ask if you guys wanted to come to the movies with me and Robin,” Steve answers with a roll of his eyes, already on his way out. “But you’re obviously busy—”

“Wait— That new buddy cop movie?” Eddie calls to the boy’s retreating form.

“Eddie!” you hiss through your teeth, filled with panic and distant pleasure, ‘cause the idiot’s trying to have a conversation like he isn’t balls deep inside you. He flashes you a wide-eyed chocolate stare like he’s innocent. “Stop,” you mouth to him.

“Yeah. Start’s at eight.”

“Well, don’t leave us, alright?” he tells him. “We’re coming.”

“Gross,” Steve mumbles and shuts the door behind him.

Eddie turns back to you. His curly bangs are damp with sweat and sticking to his forehead in places. His glowing cheeks are tinted a faint pink color. His lips are swollen and rosy as they curl into a smirk. Sex is written all over his face, painfully so. 

“That pun wasn’t intended, by the way—” Eddie jokes before you swat at his lanky bicep. “Ow!”

—————

A year or more later, you and Corrodded Coffin are selling out venues across the country. The world is a whole lot bigger than The Hideout, apparently. ‘Cause, as it turns out, more than just a couple of drunks care about seeing your band play. 

Somewhere down the line, you and the lead guitarist of said band are more serious about each other than you ever planned to be — much to the dismay of the rest of your bandmates. Not because they hadn’t spent years waiting for you guys to get together (they most definitely had), but because it was virtually impossible to have privacy while living on a tour bus.

Despite your feeble efforts to stay as subtle as possible, it’s dreadfully apparent when you and Eddie are fucking. The door to the bunks slides slowly shut, and Jeff and Gareth wait with walkmans over their ears until it opens again. This time, they flip a coin to decide who has to interrupt.

Gareth loses (‘cause Gareth always loses) and curses under his breath while he knocks on the closed door. 

“Do you guys want food?” you hear him ask over the heavy breathing in your ear. “That fancy ramen place across the bar just offered us dinner.” 

Meanwhile, Eddie Munson is riddled with post-show adrenaline as he all but fucks you stupid. His curly hair is as wild as his glassy eyes, now smokey around the edges with smudged black liner. He keeps his chest flush to your spine as he pounds into you with a primal sort of vigor — one ringed hand curled in your hair, the other gripping the plush of your hip.

“Nah, man!” he calls back, choppy through labored breaths, ‘cause he never stops thrusting into you. You’d be worried about the quiet clapping sound of his hips against your ass if your head weren’t so fuzzy. “We’re good!”

The promise of food reminds you that you haven’t eaten since earlier that day. Suddenly, you’re overcome with unexpected hunger and looming pleasure. 

“Wait, Eds,” you pant. “Food actually sounds really good right now.”

Eddie rolls his eyes in response, even though you both know he’s gonna give you what you want either way. First, a leg-shaking orgasm that you’ll in feel in your limbs for a half hour after it’s over. Second, all the damn ramen you can eat.

“Fuck, fine— Okay, we’re coming!” Eddie shouts. “Just give us, like, ten minutes, will ya?!”

Gareth grumbles faintly from the other side of the sliding glass door. “Yes, master,” you hear him grouse as he stalks off back to the living area of the tour bus — where it’s safe. 

A laugh rumbles in Eddie’s chest as he starts fucking into you again. You bury a whine into your pillow when his balls slap your clit. He presses his mouth to your ear, and you feel his lips curling into a lopsided smile there. “You call me that, and we’ll be outta here in thirty seconds flat, sweetheart.”

[vingtetunmars]

Out of Step, In Sync

Pairing: Eddie Munson X F!Reader

Summary: After a disappointing prom night, you stumble into an unexpected conversation behind the gym with Eddie Munson—Hawkins’ favorite scapegoat and misunderstood metalhead. What starts as a casual talk over a shared escape turns into something else unexpected.

Tags: Fluff, pure fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, honestly yall will need a dentist, SFW, mutual pining, developing relationship, Eddie Munson is a sweetheart, prom, dancing, 80s sci-fi references, no upside-down. No descriptions of reader. No mentions of Y/N

A/N: Yeah, you know me, I love a good 'ol fluff, I needed to feel something. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.

Word Count: 8.4k

masterlist

You didn’t even bother glancing back.

The bass from the gym echoed down the corridor, muffled and distant, like a heartbeat you weren’t part of. Glitter clung to your dress and your shoes pinched with every step, but you didn’t care. The heels were coming off soon anyway. The air back here was cooler, quieter, less drenched in Aqua Net and teenage desperation. You welcomed it like an old friend.

You weren’t angry. Not even a little heartbroken. Just… done. Your so-called prom date was slow dancing with some girl from his chem class—too close, too familiar—but honestly? It was a relief. The two of you had nothing in common, and you’d spent most of the evening counting down the songs until you could leave without it being “a thing.”

Now, finally, you were alone.

You pushed the heavy double doors open and stepped out into the cool night. The gym’s back lot was empty, save for a few leftover streamers fluttering from a fence post. You sighed, breathing in the crisp air. Somewhere in the distance, a cicada buzzed lazily.

Then you caught it—the scent of smoke.

Cigarette smoke.

You turned your head and there he was, half-shadowed by the building’s edge, denim jacket draped over a worn prom tee, black slacks like he hadn’t tried at all—and still somehow made it work. Eddie Munson, leaning against the brick wall like the whole world bored him to tears.

He raised an eyebrow when he noticed you, but didn’t say anything at first. Just took another drag and watched you with a crooked smile.

“Well, well,” he said finally, voice low and amused. “Didn’t peg you for a backdoor escape artist.”

You crossed your arms, smirking. “Didn’t peg you for someone who’d show up at prom.”

He shrugged. “Had to see it to believe it. The glitter. The heartbreak. The emotional meltdowns. It’s like a zoo in there.”

You laughed, the first real one of the night. It caught you off guard.

He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and nodded toward the gym. “So. Who do I have to thank for you gracing the back alley with your presence?”

You tilted your head. “My date’s dancing with someone else.”

Eddie winced dramatically. “Oof. Harsh.”

“Nah,” you said, leaning against the wall beside him. “We had the chemistry of a wet sponge. I’m just glad he realized it before I had to fake a bathroom emergency.”

He chuckled, and it sounded honest. Warm.

“Well,” he said, holding the cigarette out like an offering, “welcome to the land of misfit prom-goers.”

You eyed the cigarette, then shook your head. “I’ll pass. But thanks, ambassador of the misfits.”

Eddie grinned, sliding it back between his lips. “Suit yourself.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt kind of… easy. The thump of music behind you became background noise, like it belonged to another world. You looked out across the empty lot, then back at him.

“So what about you?” you asked. “Didn’t have a date either?”

Eddie snorted. “Please. Can you imagine me at a formal dinner with someone’s mom taking pictures? Nah. I’m just here for the chaos. Thought I’d maybe sneak in, spike the punch, throw a few firecrackers—y’know, the classics—but someone already beat me to it. So now I’m stuck lurking like a gremlin in the shadows.”

You laughed again, easier this time. “Well, you wear the gremlin look well.”

He placed a hand on his chest. “High praise.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. Just quiet. Peaceful. Like the noise of the gym didn’t even exist out here.

You twirled the cigarette in your fingers. “I used to think you were all noise, y’know,” you said without really thinking. “Like, loud music and heavy boots and wild hair.”

“I mean, I am all of those things,” he said, raising a brow.

“Sure,” you said. “But I don’t know… I think there’s more to it.”

He looked at you for a second, like he was trying to read your mind. Then he smiled. “Alright. Your turn. Tell me something about you that’d surprise me.”

You thought about it. Then, what the hell.

“I like science fiction. Books. Comics, too.”

Eddie blinked. “What?”

You shrugged, suddenly a little self-conscious. “Yeah. I mean… it’s not something I talk about. People think it’s weird.”

“Okay, hold on.” He straightened up, suddenly animated. “What kind of sci-fi? Like, classic stuff or weird future dystopia stuff?”

“Both,” you said, grinning despite yourself. “Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov. And there’s this one graphic novel series I’ve been obsessed with—The Long Tomorrow. You probably haven’t heard of it.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me? Moebius is a god. That gritty noir-future vibe? That’s, like, the blueprint for half my D&D campaigns.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wait, you like Moebius?”

“Like him? I worship him. I have The Airtight Garage under my mattress so my uncle doesn’t ‘accidentally’ throw it out during one of his cleaning sprees.”

You couldn’t stop smiling now. “That’s ridiculous.”

He pointed at you with his cigarette. “You’re ridiculous. All this time I thought you were just another prom queen in disguise and now you’re telling me you’re secretly a sci-fi nerd?”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a prom queen.”

“No,” he said, grinning. “You’re way cooler.”

The compliment caught you off guard. There was no smirk behind it, no teasing edge—just honesty. His eyes lingered on yours, and for the first time all night, you felt seen. Not dressed up, not performing, just you.

“Guess we both had the wrong idea,” you said quietly.

He nodded. “Guess so.”

And just like that, the space between you didn’t feel so distant anymore.

You both stood there for a while, trading stories—about favorite books, childhood cartoons, and how utterly overrated prom was. You were surprised how much you had in common. Maybe not in how you moved through the world, but in the way you looked at it. Like both of you were on the outside looking in, only now you had company.

Through the slightly cracked door, a new song filtered out. Faint but unmistakable.

“I wanna know what love is…”

You glanced back toward the gym. The colored lights flickered just beyond the windows, a blur of red and blue. The music carried more clearly now, bleeding into the cool night air like some kind of cosmic joke.

Eddie took another drag, then stubbed out the cigarette under his boot. “You should go back in,” he said after a moment, flicking ash from his fingertips. “It’s prom. Go dance with someone. Someone who doesn’t hang out behind dumpsters and make fun of the decorations.”

You tilted your head at him. “You mean someone boring?”

He gave a breathy laugh. “Someone who won’t get you judged by, like, the entire social hierarchy of Hawkins High.”

You shrugged. “I already got ditched by my date. What’s the worst they can do? Gasp?”

Eddie smiled, but his eyes drifted back toward the glowing gym windows. “Still… I’m not exactly prom royalty.”

“Well, neither am I,” you said. “So maybe that’s the point.”

He didn’t answer. Just rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking unsure of himself for the first time that night.

You tilted your head again, studying him. “You know,” you said slowly, “you could go dance too.”

Eddie barked a short laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.” He held up his hands, surrender-style. “I can’t dance. I mean it. Like, at all. I’ve got rhythm when I’m playing guitar, but put me on a dance floor and I look like I’m dodging bees.”

You stared at him for a moment. Then something wild and impulsive bubbled up inside you.

You stepped forward, just close enough to be a little dangerous.

“Okay,” you said, lifting an eyebrow. “So don’t go on the dance floor.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Stay right here. Dance with me.”

Eddie straightened slightly, like he wasn’t sure he heard you right. “Are you… serious?”

You nodded, smiling now. “I’ll guide you. You don’t have to know how. Just follow me.”

He hesitated. And for a second, you thought he’d say no. But then, slowly, like he was afraid the moment might break if he moved too fast, he took your hand.

His fingers were warm. Calloused. A little shaky.

You placed his other hand at your waist, your free hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

The music swelled behind you, soft and sweet and full of yearning.

“…and I want you to show me…”

You started to sway, just a little. Nothing fancy. Just moving to the rhythm, simple and easy.

“Okay,” you said, voice low. “Just match me. That’s it.”

Eddie watched your feet like they held all the answers in the universe, but he followed. Awkwardly at first. Then with a little more confidence. Then a little more.

He looked up at you, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re really doing this.”

“So are you.”

And under the stars, with music bleeding out from a world that didn’t quite fit either of you, Eddie Munson danced.

With you.

You didn’t let go.

And for the life of him, Eddie couldn’t understand why.

Your dress swaying slightly in the night breeze, and you were holding his hand. Guiding him like this was just some normal thing people did — like you weren’t the kind of girl who was supposed to laugh behind your locker with friends in matching dresses. Like you weren’t way too pretty, too bright, too out-of-his-league to be caught slow dancing with the town freak behind a gym full of people who’d never get it.

But there you were. Smiling at him like he wasn’t a joke. Like he wasn’t just a rumor in black denim.

And all Eddie could do was follow your lead.

You moved gently, no pressure. Just a simple sway. His hand was on your waist, and he could feel your heartbeat through the fabric, could feel the way your fingers gripped his just enough to ground him. Like you knew he was seconds away from spinning off the planet.

How was this real?

For once, Eddie Munson wasn’t putting on a show or throwing up middle fingers at the world. He wasn’t posturing or mocking or performing.

He was just here.

Dancing with you under the stars, to a song he didn’t even like, and somehow? It felt like the most honest thing he’d ever done.

The ride home was quiet, but not the awkward kind. The good kind. The kind that settled between the two of you like a blanket, warm and easy.

Eddie’s van rumbled softly down the back roads, headlights cutting through the dark. Your heels were in your lap, your feet bare and curled up on the seat, glitter still dusting your legs. The leftover makeup smudged slightly beneath your eyes, but you didn’t care. Neither did he.

He kept glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You noticed, but you didn’t say anything.

The radio played something soft—some late-night ballad that felt a little too on the nose—but neither of you reached out to change the station. It kind of fit.

When he finally pulled up in front of your house, the engine idled low, casting the porch in pale yellow light. You didn’t move at first. Neither did he.

You turned to him, your voice softer than it had been all night. “Thanks for the ride.”

He looked at you, really looked at you, and gave a small, genuine nod. “Yeah. Of course.”

You opened the door, about to step out, then hesitated.

“And… thanks for earlier,” you added, eyes meeting his. “I actually had fun tonight.”

His brows lifted, surprised. “Yeah?”

You smiled. “Yeah. Like… more than I’ve had in a while.”

Eddie’s fingers drummed once on the steering wheel. “That’s kinda sad,” he teased. “But I’ll take it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade.

He watched you for a second longer, eyes darker in the dim light. “You’re not what I expected,” he said, quietly.

You tilted your head. “Good unexpected?”

He shrugged, but there was something softer in the way he looked at you now. “Yeah. Definitely.”

You nodded slowly, then stepped down from the van. The door thunked shut behind you, but you lingered at the curb, turning back one last time.

“See you Monday?”

He grinned. “I’ll be the one getting detention.”

You laughed, backing toward your porch.

And he stayed there, parked under the streetlight, watching you go—wondering what the hell just happened, and why he kind of, maybe, really wanted it to happen again.

Monday’s cafeteria buzzed with leftover prom talk—who wore what, who threw up in the parking lot, and who was already regretting their choice of date. You sat with your usual group, a tray of barely-touched food in front of you, picking at a soggy fry as your friends swapped stories.

“I swear, if I hear more stories of Lisa and Charlie slow dancing, I’ll puke,” one of them groaned.

“I heard Jeff cried during I Wanna Know What Love Is,” another snorted.

You chuckled under your breath, but you were only half-listening. Your thoughts were still stuck somewhere in the quiet part of Friday night—lit by stars, wrapped in soft music and Eddie Munson’s uncertain hands.

“Okay,” said Courtney, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “tell us. What happened with you? You disappeared after ten.”

Your stomach did a small flip. “I, uh… went outside for some air.”

“That long?” someone chimed in. “Didn’t your date ditch you?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. But it was mutual, kinda. No chemistry.”

Courtney raised an eyebrow. “So what, you just wandered off?”

You hesitated, then decided to own it.

“I ran into Eddie Munson. We talked for a while.”

The table quieted. You didn’t miss the way someone blinked. Or the small, uncomfortable scoff.

“Wait—Eddie Munson?” said one of the girls, drawing out his name like it tasted wrong. “As in… Hellfire Club, Eddie?”

You looked up, steady. “Yeah.”

“Oh my god,” another said under her breath. “Isn’t he like… failing half his classes?”

“I heard he might repeat senior year again,” someone else added. “That’s like—what, his third time?”

You set down your fry and leaned back a little. “So what?”

That shut them up for a beat.

You looked around the table. “He was nice. We talked. We danced. It was actually… fun.”

Courtney blinked at you, like she couldn’t quite process it. “You danced with Eddie Munson?”

You smiled. “Yeah. He’s different than people think.”

They exchanged a few glances, probably trying to figure out if you were serious, but you didn’t give them room to argue. You just went back to your tray, casual but firm.

You didn’t owe them anything else.

And when they finally moved on to a different story, you let your mind drift again—back to Eddie’s hands, awkward and warm in yours, and the way he’d smiled like no one had ever looked at him the way you had.

The final bell rang and the halls of Hawkins High exploded with noise—slamming lockers, shouted goodbyes, the usual stampede toward the exit. You were pulling out your books, ready to head home, when a familiar mop of messy curls came into view.

Eddie.

He almost walked past, arms full of binders and that damn lunchbox of his, but then he spotted you. His grin bloomed instantly.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite prom partner,” he said, walking backward in front of you with dramatic flair.

You snorted. “I’m your only prom partner.”

“Details,” he waved off, turning to walk beside you. “Still the best.”

You shook your head, trying not to smile too wide, but it was hard. He kept cracking jokes—half of them dumb, some surprisingly clever, all of them weirdly charming. By the time you reached the front doors, you were laughing hard enough to forget about the weight of your backpack or the way people stared.

Outside, the sun was still high, casting golden light over the parking lot. You lingered near the bike racks, and Eddie rocked back on his heels, suddenly looking like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.

He scratched the back of his neck. “So, uh…”

You raised an eyebrow.

“You doing anything right now?”

You blinked. “Not really. Why?”

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again. “Wanna get milkshakes or something?”

You tilted your head, amused. “Are you asking me out?”

“What? No!” he said quickly, eyes wide. “I mean—not that you’re not—ugh.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “Not like a date date, just, y’know. A post-school, ice-cream-adjacent hangout. Very casual. Extremely non-threatening.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “You’re doing a terrible job of making it sound casual.”

He groaned. “God, I know.”

You paused for a second. Then smiled.

“Yeah. Let’s get milkshakes.”

Eddie blinked. “Wait—really?”

“Really,” you said, starting to walk again, this time toward his van. You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Do I get to pick the music in your van?”

He placed a hand over his heart, mock wounded. “Absolutely not. But you can control the windows.”

Lunchtime in the cafeteria. Same old gray plastic trays, same mystery meat, same half-hearted arguments about campaign rules. Eddie was halfway through explaining, for the third time, why rolling a nat 1 on perception doesn’t mean you automatically get eaten by a mimic, when something—or rather, someone—stepped into his line of vision.

You.

He blinked up at you, startled. You were holding something. A piece of paper, no—thicker than that. Watercolor paper.

You thrust it out toward him before he could even say hi.

“I, um… I made this.”

Eddie looked down.

It was a watercolor painting. Bold, messy brush strokes in warm and murky tones. And there, standing like some strange cosmic king, was Major Grubert from The Airtight Garage. Rendered with this dreamy, layered energy—loose and vivid, with little gold details that shimmered when they caught the light.

“You painted this?” he asked, dumbfounded.

You nodded quickly, already looking like you regretted everything. “I don’t know. It’s dumb. I just— You said you liked the comic, and I was painting for art club, and I thought maybe you’d—”

He stared at you.

You stared at the floor.

“Anyway,” you rushed, already backing up. “You don’t have to keep it or anything. I just—yeah, okay, bye.”

And then you turned on your heel and disappeared between the tables, like a mirage, gone as fast as you came.

For a second, Eddie didn’t move. His tray sat forgotten, and the painting was still in his hands.

“What the hell was that?” said Gareth.

Jeff leaned over, squinting. “Is that… art?”

“Holy crap,” said one of the freshmen, eyes wide. “Did she just give you that? Like, a gift?”

“I think she did,” Eddie murmured.

He was still staring at it. Still stunned.

Because it wasn’t just the painting—though that alone was cool as hell—it was the fact that you made it for him. That you remembered that offhand comment about The Airtight Garage from days ago. That you painted this weird little sci-fi character, and thought of him while doing it.

It was… a lot.

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to shake the dazed look off his face. “Shut up,” he mumbled, carefully sliding the painting into his binder like it was made of glass. “None of you get it. It’s called being interesting, you cretins.”

They didn’t stop staring.

Gareth leaned over the table. “Dude. Seriously. What was that?”

Doug raised an eyebrow. “Did you hex her or something?”

“Shut up,” Eddie muttered, still guarding the painting like it was top-secret government property. He shoved it deeper into his binder, then clapped it shut with a loud snap.

“You’ve been weird all week,” Jeff pointed out.

“Yeah, man,” Gareth said, gesturing wildly. “You’ve been, like… smiley. It’s freaky.”

Eddie sighed like a man defeated, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Fine,” he mumbled, keeping his voice low. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me eat my damn lunch?”

They all nodded in rapid, eager unison.

Eddie leaned forward slightly. “We danced at prom.”

The table went silent.

“What?” Gareth blinked. “Who did?”

“Me and her,” Eddie said, voice a little more defensive now. “It just kind of… happened. She came outside. We talked. She offered. I didn’t step on her feet. Miracle of the decade.”

“She asked you to dance?” Jeff repeated, stunned.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yes, Jeff. It’s not that hard to believe.”

“It’s just—she’s, like… art club. Social. Normal,” said Doug.

“And I’m a freak,” Eddie finished, not angrily—just matter-of-fact. “Yeah, yeah. I know. That’s the whole thing, right?”

They all exchanged awkward glances.

Eddie softened a little. “We’ve just been talking since then. That’s all. She’s cool. Funny. Into sci-fi stuff. And apparently, she paints really badass cosmic generals in her spare time.”

The group went quiet again, but this time with a slightly different energy.

Jeff nodded slowly. “Huh.”

“Damn,” Gareth muttered. “Did not see that coming.”

Eddie shrugged, leaning back in his seat and finally stabbing at his lunch. “Neither did I.”

But under the table, his fingers tapped quietly on his knee—restless in that weird, hopeful way.

Because yeah… he didn’t see it coming.

Your room looked like a clothing explosion.

Jeans on the bed. A skirt on the floor. Three different tops draped over your chair. You stared into the mirror, adjusting the neckline of your favorite shirt for what had to be the fourth time, then gave up and let out a groan.

It wasn’t a date.

Not officially.

But still.

Eddie had asked you yesterday—Eddie Munson, king of chains, dice, and anti-establishment rants—if you wanted to go to the new Starcourt Mall. He’d said it kind of awkwardly, like the words felt weird in his mouth. Then he’d doubled down with, “I mean, I hate malls, they’re corporate brain rot, but if you’re there too, I guess I won’t spontaneously combust.”

Which, translated from Eddie-speak, meant: I want to spend time with you, and I’m doing something completely out of character because it might make you smile.

So yeah. Maybe it was a date.

You adjusted your hair again, spritzed the tiniest bit of perfume, and gave yourself one last once-over. Just polished enough to show you cared—but not so much it looked like you were trying. Hopefully.

A soft knock on your door pulled you back to Earth.

Your mom peeked in, eyes twinkling.

“Sweetie?”

“Yeah?”

She pushed the door open with a hand on her hip and an expression halfway between curiosity and polite judgment. “There’s a young man waiting downstairs for you.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “He’s early?”

She shrugged. “Five minutes. Maybe he was excited.”

You tried to hide your smile as you turned back to the mirror, smoothing down the hem of your nicest top. Not fancy fancy — just enough to look like you put in effort. It wasn’t every day Eddie Munson asked someone to hang out somewhere as un-Eddie as the Starcourt Mall.

You were flattered. And a little impressed. He was trying.

Your mom lingered by the doorway, arms crossed loosely now.

“You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone.”

You paused, lip gloss wand hovering in the air. “I’m not. We’re just… hanging out.”

She arched a brow. “Uh-huh.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. “I mean it.”

“Well,” she said, pushing off the doorframe. “He’s… not what I expected.”

You turned slowly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Leather jacket. Messy hair. Rings on every finger. He’s got a… rough-around-the-edges thing.” She shrugged. “I didn’t peg him as your type.”

You hesitated. “Is that a problem?”

She raised her hands. “Not for me. Just... interesting choice.”

Then, softening, she added, “But he stood up when I walked in. Called me ma’am. And he didn’t look at the family photos weird, so… he’s alright in my book.”

You blinked. “Wow. High praise.”

“I’m just saying,” she smiled. “You could’ve warned me you brought home a James Dean type.”

You rolled your eyes again, but this time you were grinning. “He’s not like that.”

“If you say so.”

With that, she turned to leave, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t leave him waiting too long—he keeps checking his watch.”

Your heart fluttered.

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror—quick swipe of gloss, tuck of hair behind your ear—and grabbed your bag.

You didn’t expect Eddie Munson to know his way around a shopping mall.

And to be fair… he didn’t.

From the moment you stepped into Starcourt’s fluorescent glow, he looked like a vampire in daylight—eyes squinting, hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, muttering about “late-stage capitalism” like the air itself offended him.

“This place smells like fabric softener and broken dreams,” he declared as you passed an Orange Julius stand.

You grinned. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute, or I’d have already burst into flames.”

But despite all his grumbling, he stuck close. Arm brushing yours. Slowing down when you lingered in shop windows. Letting you tug him toward places you knew he’d secretly like—like the comic shop tucked near the food court, where he perked up at the sight of a rare Swamp Thing issue and ended up ranting, passionately, about horror art for ten straight minutes.

After that, it all got easier.

He let you drag him through a novelty store, where he made you try on glittery heart-shaped sunglasses and nearly bought a lava lamp “just because.” At Sam Goody, you flipped through cassette tapes while he made dramatic gagging noises at pop albums and then—when he thought you weren’t looking—quietly bought a Bowie tape because you mentioned liking one song.

Somewhere between Cinnabon and Spencer’s, your arms brushed again.

And this time, he didn’t move away.

Instead, he offered his elbow in that silly, exaggerated way, like some knight escorting royalty through battle. You rolled your eyes but linked arms anyway.

You didn’t unlink for a while.

When you passed the photobooth, it was your idea.

“C’mon,” you said, already tugging at his sleeve. “We have to. It’s practically a law.”

“I hate pictures,” he protested.

“Too bad.”

He grumbled, but followed.

The booth curtain smelled like static and old gum, and the light inside was way too bright. But Eddie slid in beside you anyway, pressing his knee against yours in the cramped space.

The timer beeped.

First photo, a blur of you both, too late to pose.

Second photo, you were smiling, he was sticking his tongue out.

Third, he turned his head and said something just as the flash went off, so his mouth was frozen mid-word and you were laughing.

Fourth, he looked at you. Really looked. And you looked back, cheeks warm. And for that one second, neither of you made a face.

That last one made your stomach flutter.

The strip slid out a few seconds later, still warm from the machine. You both leaned over it, smiling like idiots.

“I’m keeping this one,” you said, pointing to the last shot.

“No way. That’s the best one.” He mock-whined. “It’s mine now.”

“Split it,” you said, already reaching for it. “Even trade.”

So you carefully tore it down the middle, each of you keeping two little squares. You tucked yours into your wallet. He stuffed his into the pocket of his jacket like it was something worth keeping safe.

After that, you shared a cherry slushie and browsed the record store. You ended up on one of the benches near the fountain, your shoulders bumping gently as you sat.

Eddie kicked at the tile with the toe of his boot. “Okay, confession,” he said, not looking at you. “This was kinda fun.”

You smiled. “Even though it’s a capitalist wasteland?”

He grinned. “Especially because of that. I got to rant and be dramatic and walk around with a pretty girl on my arm. All the core Eddie Munson needs.”

You laughed and leaned your head against his shoulder.

And you didn’t say it out loud, but in your pocket, the photo strip pressed between your wallet like proof:

Something was happening between you.

And it felt really, really good.

The smell of acrylic paint alingered in the air, windows cracked just enough to let in the late afternoon breeze. You sat cross-legged on a stool, paintbrush in hand, blotting a soft gradient of pink across the corner of your sketchbook while your friends chatted around you.

“So then Brad says he didn’t cheat, he just ‘accidentally’ kissed her,” Courtney said, rolling her eyes as she rinsed a brush in a cloudy jar of water. “Like that’s a thing.”

“Classic,” Angela muttered. “Men are such a disease.”

You hummed in vague agreement, still focused on blending your colors. It wasn’t until Courtney nudged your foot under the table that you looked up.

“Okay, but you had that smug little look on your face when you walked in,” she said. “So. Tells us. What did you do this weekend?”

You paused.

Then smiled. Just a little. “I went to the mall.”

“Ugh, I live there,” Angela said. “With who?”

“…Eddie.”

Courtney blinked. “Eddie Munson?”

Angela dropped her pencil. “Seriously?”

You shifted in your seat, brushing a spot of paint from your thumb. “Yeah.”

They exchanged a glance, the kind that was just a little too loaded. “Are you—like—serious with him?” Courtney asked, a bit cautiously.

You looked down at your sketchbook.

The memory hit you fast and warm—Eddie, leaning back on a food court bench, drumming his fingers against his knee and grinning every time your hand brushed his. The way his face softened when he looked at you, like he couldn’t believe you were real. The photobooth picture in your wallet, folded so carefully it was starting to wear at the edges.

You swallowed, eyes flicking back up.

“I don’t know yet,” you said honestly. “But… maybe.”

Courtney raised a brow. “I mean, he’s kind of—”

“Different,” Angela finished for her. “Like, not who we thought you’d be into.”

You let out a breath, not defensive—just tired of that tone.

“He’s actually really sweet,” you said. “He listens when I talk. He cares about stuff. He remembered I liked a random song and went back for the tape the next day. He’s not what you think he is.”

The girls went quiet for a second.

Then Courtney shrugged. “Okay. I mean, if you like him.”

“I do,” you said quietly, adding a final brushstroke to your page. “More than I thought I would.”

Angela cracked a smile. “Well… if he breaks your heart, we’re egging his van.”

You laughed. “Deal.”

The library was louder than usual—not in noise, but in energy. Stress hung thick in the air, like a storm cloud hovering over every student hunched at their tables. Pages flipped, pencils scratched, the occasional frustrated sigh echoed off the stone walls. It was exam season.

Eddie Munson was in hell.

His science textbook lay open in front of him, untouched for the last ten minutes. His notebook was empty, save for a rough sketch of a dragon flipping off a periodic table. He tapped his pencil against his lip, eyes unfocused, legs jittering under the table.

This wasn’t his place. He hated the cold lighting, the itchy silence, the way it all felt like it was judging him for every gap in his knowledge.

And then you walked in.

Like sunlight in a storm.

You made your way across the room, dodging backpacks and tangled limbs, carrying your bag against your hip and a calm expression that made it look like you weren’t drowning in deadlines and formulas. You spotted him, gave a little wave, and sat down across from him.

“Hey,” you said softly.

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath all day. “Hey.”

You glanced at the disaster zone of his table—crumpled notes, half-drawn doodles, an empty soda cup with a chewed straw—and smiled.

“Rough day?”

Eddie dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m about five minutes away from faking my own death and starting a new life as a gas station poet in Ohio.”

You laughed, but it softened quickly as you reached into your bag and pulled something out: a clean, colorful folder. It had your name written neatly on the corner, and sticky notes poking from the sides like a rainbow spine.

You slid it across the table toward him. “These are my notes. For science. And history. And… okay, maybe I got carried away.”

He blinked. “You—”

“They’re color-coded. Definitions are in blue. Equations are pink. Anything our teachers stressed in class is highlighted. I even made flashcards, they’re in the back pocket.”

Eddie just stared at it.

Not because he didn’t want it. But because something about it felt… personal. Intimate.

No one had ever done something like this for him before.

You fiddled with the edge of your sleeve. “I don’t know, maybe it’s dumb. But they helped me. I figured maybe they’d help you too.”

He reached out slowly, fingers brushing the cover. Then, reverently, he opened it.

It was like walking into your mind. Your handwriting curled neatly over page after page. You’d drawn little diagrams. Circled key dates. There was even a little cartoon mitochondrion wearing sunglasses on one page.

He swallowed.

“This is…” he said quietly, still flipping pages. “This is incredible.”

You shrugged, trying not to blush. “Just thought you could use a little help.”

Eddie didn’t respond right away. He just sat there, running his thumb along the edge of one of the pages like it might disappear if he let go.

Then he looked up at you. Not with the usual teasing smile or lazy smirk.

He looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I swear to god,” he said, voice low and serious, “if you keep being this perfect, I’m gonna have to make you mine.”

Your heart stuttered.

You blinked, stunned—but not in a bad way. Just… surprised by the weight of those words, how much they didn’t sound like a joke.

You recovered with a half-smile. “You should probably focus on passing chemistry first.”

“Baby, I’m failing chemistry because you walk into the room and all the atoms in my brain rearrange.”

You laughed, covering your face for a second. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It’s emotional science,” he insisted. “Way more complicated.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth wouldn’t leave your cheeks.

He closed it gently, like he was sealing up treasure.

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it.

“Of course,” you replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve been helping me too. Just in a different way.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Oh yeah? How?”

You looked at him, and this time, didn’t hesitate. “You make me feel like I don’t have to hide the weird parts of myself.”

Eddie’s eyes softened.

“I’d riot if you did.”

You were digging through your locker for your pencil pouch when you heard it—footsteps, pounding fast down the hallway, like someone was being chased. You didn’t even look up until a voice you knew all too well shouted your name like it was a fire alarm.

“Hey!”

You turned just in time to see Eddie Munson nearly skid on the polished floor as he sprinted toward you, hair wild, jacket flapping behind him like a cape.

He nearly collided with the locker beside yours, bracing himself with one hand, breath coming in quick bursts.

“Eddie—what—?”

“I passed,” he said, eyes bright and disbelieving. “I passed.”

It took you a second to register what he meant. “Wait—like... everything?”

He nodded, grinning so hard his face looked like it might split open. “Everything. Math, English, science—Mrs. Miller gave me a D-minus, but that’s still a D! That’s still passing!”

You dropped your books onto the floor without even caring.

“Eddie, that’s amazing!”

And before you knew what you were doing, you threw your arms around him.

He laughed into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you clean off the floor for a second, spinning once with the wildness of it all.

“I had to tell you first,” he said, voice muffled in your hair. “I ran here.”

You pulled back just enough to see his face. His cheeks were flushed, lips parted, eyes shining with something that looked way more intense than just pride.

He looked at you like you were the sun after months of rain.

“Seriously, I never would’ve made it without you,” he said. “Those notes? Those flash cards? The dumb acronyms you made up so I could remember physics formulas—”

“They weren’t dumb,” you said, laughing.

“They were adorable,” he corrected, like it was obvious. “And apparently effective.”

His hands were still on your waist. Yours were curled into his jacket without you noticing. Your faces were close—closer than usual. And you saw it flicker across his face—something unspoken, something about to break through.

And then it did.

He kissed you.

No hesitation, no stammering this time. Just a sharp inhale, and then his lips were on yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t polished or practiced—it was a kiss powered by sheer joy, by the rush of success and the comfort of you, by everything he’d been holding back. His hands slid from your waist up to your jaw, cradling your face like he couldn’t believe this was real.

And the thing was—you didn’t stop him.

You didn’t pull away.

You kissed him back, arms looping around his shoulders, grounding him, steadying him in the middle of this ridiculous, beautiful rush.

When he finally pulled away, your faces still close, you could feel his breath fanning your lips, still uneven.

You stared at him, slightly dazed, your pulse thundering in your ears.

“…You didn’t plan that, did you?” you asked, voice half-breathless, half-amused.

Eddie gave the softest little laugh, head leaning against yours for a second as he caught his breath.

“Not even a little,” he said. “I think I blacked out after I said ‘I passed.’”

You shook your head, cheeks burning in the best way.

He grinned, wild and flushed and completely Eddie. “You’re gonna be so sick of me.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

And you didn’t even have to think about it.

Because if this—this chaotic, sweet, completely unfiltered boy—was the reward at the end of every academic achievement?

You’d tutor him forever.

“Eddie’s here,” your mom called from the hallway, her voice light and knowing.

You looked up from the mirror, heart skipping just a little.

Your dad’s voice followed a beat later from the living room. “Tell him to keep it under 60 this time.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately as you grabbed your bag. “He only sped once, and that was because we were late for grad practice.”

“He was going eighty,” your dad replied.

“It was downhill,” you said, already headed for the door.

You passed your mom in the hall, and she gave you a soft smile. “He brought flowers. Again.”

You couldn’t help the way your smile grew.

When you stepped outside, the warm air wrapped around you like a blanket. The sun was still high, the cicadas buzzing lazily in the trees, and there he was—leaning against his van like he belonged there, a bouquet of mismatched wildflowers in one hand, the other shoved into the pocket of his worn jeans.

He looked up the second he heard the screen door creak.

And you swear, even now, after everything, he still looked at you like it was the first time.

“There she is,” he said, grinning wide.

You walked up to him, arms crossing just to keep yourself from doing something embarrassing, like swooning. “What’s the occasion?”

Eddie held out the flowers. “Just celebrating the fact that I somehow tricked the universe into giving me a girlfriend this amazing.”

You rolled your eyes, taking them anyway. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leaned closer, voice low and smug. “And yet… here you are.”

You bumped his shoulder with yours, but your smile gave you away.

He opened the passenger door for you with an exaggerated bow. “M’lady.”

“Such a gentleman,” you muttered, climbing in.

As he circled the van to the driver’s side, your dad stepped out onto the porch with a glass of coffee and a suspicious glare.

Eddie gave a little wave and a crooked smile. “Sir. Swear I’ll have her back by ten. Eleven max. No stunt driving this time.”

Your dad just raised an eyebrow.

Eddie slid into the driver’s seat, shutting the door and pulling on his seatbelt. “He loves me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” you said as he started the engine.

“So,” he said, flicking the stereo on low, “this theater just started showing Back to the Future. Two days early, somehow. I figured a little time travel with you sounded better than melting in my room watching The Evil Dead for the twelfth time.”

You laughed and gave him a look. “You just want to see the DeLorean.”

“…Okay, also that.”

He reached over and laced your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on the bench seat between you.

The van rumbled down the sunlit road, windows cracked open, the summer air carrying in the scent of grass and gasoline. Your hair danced in the breeze. Eddie hummed along to whatever cassette was playing—a little out of tune, but you didn’t mind.

Not when his thumb kept tracing slow circles over the back of your hand.

Not when the entire summer felt like it was unfolding in front of you like something sacred.

And as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, grinning like you were the best part of the world—

You thought maybe you were right where you were supposed to be.

The mall was alive with its usual symphony—chatter, synth-pop from overhead speakers, the distant ding of arcade machines, and the occasional whir of the fountain in the food court. You and Eddie split off the moment you stepped into the theater’s cool, air-conditioned lobby.

“I’m getting the tickets,” he said, already headed toward the box office.

“And I’m getting snacks,” you said before he could argue, already turning for the concession stand. “Don’t fight me on this, Munson.”

He shot you a mock glare over his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re predictable.”

When you met back up, he handed you a single stub—he’d already torn them and given the other to the usher. You handed him a large bucket of popcorn and a cherry Icee with two straws.

Eddie blinked. “You got two straws in my Coke?”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s our Coke now.”

His heart may have done a ridiculous little flip at that, but he just grinned and led the way inside.

The theater was dark and cool, the trailers already rolling as you found seats near the middle—close enough to feel immersed but far enough that you weren’t cranking your neck. Eddie set the popcorn between you, but you curled into his side instead, slipping your hand into the crook of his arm and resting your head gently on his shoulder.

He stilled for half a second, surprised by the contact—he never quite got used to the way you just… leaned into him like that. Like it was easy. Like it was safe.

“You comfortable?” he whispered, glancing down.

You nodded without looking up, your voice soft. “Perfect.”

When the movie began, the glow of the screen lit your faces in blues and oranges and whites. You quietly giggled at the opening scene, nudging Eddie every time something ridiculous happened—he whispered a sarcastic comment back each time, just enough to make you cover your mouth to stifle laughter.

At one point, he reached into the popcorn bucket and accidentally brushed your hand. You didn’t move away. Neither did he.

When Marty McFly first hit 1955, you leaned closer, eyes wide with wonder. Eddie didn’t say anything—just smiled a little to himself, letting you rest there, your head warm on his shoulder, your heartbeat syncing quietly with the slow, steady thrum of his.

And in the dark, surrounded by strangers and movie magic, Eddie Munson let himself imagine—just for a moment—what it might be like to have this forever.

The van rolled to a quiet stop in front of your house, headlights casting soft beams across the porch. The movie was long over and the cassette in the stereo had looped twice already.

Neither of you moved.

You glanced at Eddie with a small smile, fingers nervously picking at the edge of your sleeve. “Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”

He turned toward you, his hand resting on the steering wheel. “Yeah? Me too. That was…” He looked at you like he was still a little surprised this was real. “That was a good night.”

You both laughed at how underwhelming that sounded.

“I mean—great night,” he amended, mock-dramatic. “One for the ages.”

You shook your head, biting your lip to hide your smile. “Come on, rockstar. Walk me to the door?”

Eddie hopped out first and came around the van, opening your door like he always did—even when you rolled your eyes at him for it. The night air was warm but quieter now, the street still and bathed in porchlight glow. You walked side by side up the driveway, close enough that your arms brushed.

At the bottom step, you turned to face him.

Eddie scratched the back of his neck, shifting on his feet like he wanted to say something more but couldn’t find the words. “I, uh… hope this wasn’t too boring. You know the mall and a movie isn’t exactly my usual scene.”

You shook your head. “I loved it. And… I like seeing different sides of you.”

That got a smile out of him. A real one. Small, warm, a little shy.

You stood there for another beat, the silence stretching out but never uncomfortable. Just full—like both of you were hoping time would slow down.

“Well…” you started, tilting your head toward the door.

“Yeah,” he said. “Guess this is—”

You kissed him.

Soft and certain. You leaned in first, lips brushing his with the kind of ease that only came with practice and care. He melted into it instantly, one hand slipping to your waist, the other steadying him against the railing like the whole world had narrowed down to just this.

When you finally pulled away, your noses were still almost touching.

“Goodnight, Eddie,” you whispered.

He blinked, dazed. “Goodnight.”

You stepped inside with a smile still tugging at your lips, and the second you closed the door behind you—

“That was quite the kiss.”

You jumped. Your mom was standing in the kitchen, sipping tea with your dad, both of them clearly having witnessed the entire thing from the window.

“Did he trip over the step again?” your dad asked casually. “He always does that when he’s nervous.”

You groaned. “You two seriously have nothing better to do?”

Your mom just smirked, eyes twinkling. “We like seeing you happy.”

You rolled your eyes, cheeks burning, but you couldn’t stop the grin from breaking through.

Because yeah… you were happy.

Dating Eddie Munson is nothing like you expected—and everything you didn’t know you needed.

It’s loud music in his van, the kind that rattles the floorboards and makes you laugh when he drums on the steering wheel like the world’s watching. It’s his leather jacket slung over your shoulders when the air turns cold, his rings cool against your skin when he reaches for your hand. It’s messy hair, wild ideas, and the way he always walks on the outside of the sidewalk, like it means something.

It’s learning to love the chaos, and realizing that under all that noise and bravado, Eddie’s just… gentle. Thoughtful. Unbelievably loyal.

Dating Eddie is getting a cassette made just for you—your name scribbled on the label, each song chosen because it reminds him of you. It’s him sitting beside you while you paint, trying not to move too much even though he’s definitely itching to fidget. It’s him reading the comics you lend him, even the weird ones, just so he can talk to you about them later.

It’s milkshakes and movie nights and the kind of laughter that makes your chest hurt. It’s long drives with no destination, arms dangling out the window, his voice carrying through the breeze as he sings along—terribly—to some over-the-top power ballad.

It feels like a plot twist Eddie Munson never saw coming.

He thought he knew how his story would go—misunderstood metalhead, high school dropout, maybe famous one day if he got lucky. But then you happened. And now every chapter feels rewritten.

It’s surreal, honestly.

You—who used to feel so out of reach—actually laugh at his stupid impressions and roll your eyes in that way that kills him, but never walk away. You sit next to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You hold his hand like you mean it. That alone blows his mind.

It’s the way you look at him like he's not some town freak. Like he’s not a rumor or a punchline or a lost cause.

Like he’s enough.

He'll go to every goddamn mall just to see you smile under neon lights, taking photos in a booth he secretly keeps in his wallet, and pretending not to blush when your head rests on his shoulder during a movie.

Dating you, to Eddie, feels like finding out the world isn’t as cruel as he thought it was.

It’s not always easy. He still worries he’s not good enough for you, that you’ll wake up one day and see what everyone else says they see. But you never flinch. You just keep showing up. Keep choosing him.

And he’d burn down the whole world just to deserve you a little more.

Yeah. Dating you?

It’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to him.

[dorkszn]

big dick!billy who loves having you sit on his lap because he knows you can feel him through his pants

big dick!billy who filmed you the first time he fucked you so he’ll always have the memory of the first time he stretched you out around him. a tape of your body quivering, fat tears rolling down your cheeks, his cock stuffed in you to the hilt, and your hands clutching at the sheets on his bed.

big dick!billy who keeps a photo of your stomach in his wallet. a bulge in your belly showing how deep he’s buried in you.

big dick!billy who loves seeing you cry and pout around his cock when you can’t take him all the way down your throat. he assures you that it’s okay and wraps your hand around his base and even that barely works

big dick!billy who can’t help but chuckle as he watches you try to sink yourself down onto his dick. his seat pushed back to accompany for you on top of him, slowly sucking him in inch by inch. your face contorting as you take him in and he can’t help but bite his bottom lip to hold back his grin. he thinks it’s cute how much you struggle to take him by yourself. and he’s more than happy to help you down when you ask, after teasing you, of course. he waste no time slamming you down on his cock.

[lostalioth]

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭

→ premise: eddie wasn’t convinced you were as innocent as you acted. his pervy thoughts of you were often guided by all the little dirty things you did. he knew he shouldn’t think that way you were his friend after all but you had to know what you were doing to him right?

→ pairing: perv!bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, 2.1k words, corruption kink, dacryphilia, frontagge? [eddie rubs his dick against her til he cums?] unprotected penetration, small bit of degrading language [whore], nicknames [baby, pretty girl, sweets, pretty best friend], reader is described to wear eddies shirt and pink/girly clothing a bit, not proofread

→ a/n: kinktober 12

Eddie was a touchy guy, a very touchy best friend in fact. He seemed to lack any awareness of personal space when it came to you.

Having you sit in his lap during movie nights whether it's just the two of you or if Robin or Steve join in. Laying his head in your lap while you play with his hair and his hands palm at your thighs tracing shapes on them. Draping his arm over your shoulders and pulling you to his side when you're in the middle of a conversation with someone or leaning his body weight against you. Now to you and your naive mind, you found all this and everything else he may do as innocent, you didn't understand why everyone new you met assumed the two of you were dating.

Except for Eddie everything he did, he had a little pervy underlying reason to it. Leaning on you and pulling your body against his to feel your soft skin on his and subconsciously claiming you as his. Sitting you in his lap to feel the heat radiating from your pussy on his cock even through multiple layers of fabric. Laying his head on your lap and rubbing on your thighs Imagining his head is buried between them instead.

Constantly he came up with any excuse he could to have his hands on you, to have your body against his, even rub up against you when given the chance when he’d scoot behind you to get somewhere even if there was a clearer path to his destination. Rubbing his bulge lightly against your ass when he’d brush by. To him there was no way you weren’t aware of his intentions when he did these things and all the little pervy moves he made. Every dirty thought he had or thing he did was guided by the seemingly not so innocent things you would do.

Though you weren’t actually aware of just what the things you'd do, did to poor ole’ Eddie. Batting your eyelashes at him when you wanted to be the one to pick the movie, pressing your body against him of your own accord when a scary part came on during one of his movie picks. He even swears though he isn’t 100% sure it wasn't a very vivid dream that you were grinding your ass against him for a second one time you were sitting in his lap.

It was currently one of those frequent movie nights and Eddie was painfully hard, his cock has been aching the moment he walked inside your house. Part of it sure was that he was just excited to have quality time with his pretty little best friend but then when he came in and saw the state you were in he was a goner. You were more comfortable around Eddie than anyone and you had opted to be cozy so all you had on was a long t-shirt and frilly pink socks, no pants on. Being the perv he was and with the fact he couldn't tell exactly he was secretly wishing you didn't have any panties on either.

Eddie got to pick the movie and it was one he’d seen a million times over so it didn't matter that he couldn't bring himself to pay attention. His eyes glued to you, your thighs exposed almost more than they are when you wear your tiny lacey skirts that also almost kill Eddie. Any last drop of reserve or self-control he had was slowly draining away from his body.

If he thought too hard about everything he felt like a piece of shit bestfriend that all he could think of during movie nights anymore was bending you over your living room couch and claiming your pussy as his. Making you his as you whine and moan that it's too much to take and he tells you what a good girl you’re being. Expect there was a small denranged part of him that desperatly wanted to corrupt your sweet naive mind until you’re the one who can only think about him fucking you, making you just as much of a pervert as he was.

Far too lost in own dirty thoughts he fails to notice that the movie has now ended, meaning it was your turn to pick and he should probably stop staring at your body.

“That was a good movie. Ed's wasn't as scary of a movie as you usually pick” your sweet voice snaps him out of his trance and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from your thighs crossed over one another.

“Oh uh yeah, figured I’d pick a calmer one this time for you sweets” he explains, lightly coughing as he squeezed the pillow that's been covering his lap this whole time, a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes forms on his face as he finally turns his attention to your face. Though switching his focus fails to dull the throbbing in his stiff cock, if it goes on any longer there's definitely going to be a wet spot in his boxers. You smile back at him before getting up from the couch, running over to the kitchen and putting the empty popcorn bowl in the sink. He watches as you walk away, a small groan leaving his lips, it didn't help that the shirt you wore was one of his old hellfire shirt’s. You in his clothes always made his heart ache just as much as his dick, you often stole his shirts or hoodies which didn't help people thinking you were dating and Eddie secretly loved that.

With a bounce in your step you make your way back over to the couch, standing more in front of Eddie as you do. Bending at the waist you lean over to pick the remote up off the oddly low coffee table, your shirt riding up as you do. Giving him an agonizingly perfect view of your ass and the mound of your pussy in your little pink panties. “Oh fuck..” he groans out, his knuckles turning white from how hard he is gripping the pillow infront of him. You turn around facing him now as you lean back up, having heard Eddie mumble out something. “What’d you say Ed’s??” You question with a cute look of confusion on your face.

His last ounce of composure and restraint flies out the window as he throws the pillow off his lap and grabs ahold of your hips pulling you into his lap.

“You fucking feel that pretty girl? That’s what you do to me, fuckin’ killing me sweets” he groans out, his bulge pressed right against your cunt, his jeans and your thin panties do nothing to stop him from feeling the heat settling in your core. you gasp out dropping the remote onto the cushion besides you as you feel just how hard he is. The cold metal of his rings sends a shiver down your spine when his hands push up at your shirt, bunching it up as they go. “But- I didn't do anything, or- I didn't mean to anyway Ed’s” you manage to stutter out, taken aback by both his abruptness and how good his cock feels against you even confined in denim. Lifting you up before letting go of your hips for a second so you're hovering over him, he unbuckles his belt and button to his jeans before tugging them down his thighs. “Ed’s I-I dont think best friends do this…” you whine out yet don't make any move to stop him as he grabs ahold of your hips again, planting your pussy right on his cock again with only thin underwear separating you now. You may be naive and innocent but you weren't a virgin you were well aware of what he was doing.

“it’s okay baby, just be my pretty little best friend and let me play with you okay, my cocks aching for ya’ yeah?” His tone is soft and slurred, his head going hazy in desire for you and the fact you were letting him go this far. “Mhmm~ okay i can do that” you whine out, your hips having a mind of their own squirming and grinding against him as his hands rub down your thighs.

“Atta girl sweets, s’good to me, always so sweet on me” he groans out as his fingers inch closer and closer to your aching pussy. Your slick has managed to begin soaking your panties, while Eddie's tip leaks precum forming a matching wet spot on his boxers. Tugging your panties to the side he runs his middle and ring finger through your slick folds, running over your clit that jumps at the small bit of attention. Your breath catches in your lungs as your eyes are glued to where your best friend's hands are playing with your leaking pussy. “Eddie.. it feels s’good” you whine out your hips bucking at his touch every time his fingers brush over your bundle of nerves.

“Look at you pretty girl, so fucking wet f’me like a little fucking whore” he groans out as he pushes down at his boxers, you lift your hips to help subconsciously. He pushes them down only enough to let his cock spring free, his cock thick, tip reddened and as veins run along the underside of his shaft. Your eyes are entranced by the sight, your mouth watering and your hole clenching around nothing, who knew your best friend had such a pretty cock.

Grabbing onto the base of his cock he angles it to nudge open your slit and run his tip through your soaked folds, grinding his shaft against your pussy. “Ahh~ pleasee Ed’s need you inside” you whine out, already getting overwhelmed, his cock rubbing against your bundle of nerves and tip just barely pushing at your hole before slipping out. The ongoing teasing and desire for him to push inside you crowd your head making it go fuzzy. “Nooo not yet baby, not till you're begging for it, gotta corrupt my sweet innocent little best friend til shes a cock hungry whore begging for me to fuck her” he chuckled darkly, even though he was more desperate than you to finally push into the warm heat of your cunt he was gonna make you beg for it.

Tears well up in your eyes threatening to fall as you buck against him in response to his hips grinding against your pussy. “Aww ya’ gonna cry sweets? Go on cry baby, beg for it” he groans out, he knew it was sick but as your tears fall down your cheeks he can feel his balls tighten, heavy and full of cum that's almost ready to burst. Your slick and his precum mix together to soak your panties, the thin fabric turning see through as he hooks it over his cock to keep it pressed between your folds.

“Fuck im gonna cum pretty girl, should cum in these fuckin’ flimsy panties and ruin em’ then stuff them in your mouth as i stuff this pussy” he growls out, his words making your pussy throbbing and your head spin, your head nodding frantically desperate for him to do exactly that. “Yeah baby? Want me to do that?” He taunts, a lopsided smirk glued to his lips as he leans in closer, forehead pressed against yours while your tears continue to fall down your cheeks, your eyes turning red and puffy the longer you cry out in pleasure.

“Please Ed’s yes!~ please need you to cum and i need you to fuck me please” you moan out, a deep stasifaction settled in eddie at your plea and he surges forward to press his lips to yours muffling your whines. Your thighs burning from grinding desperately against him, the last string of Eddie's snaps just as you dig your nails into his biceps and cry out his name into the heated frantic kiss. Hot ropes of cum spurt out and coat the inside of your panties and paint your puffy folds. Not stopping his thrusting Eddie grabs his cock that's still sandwiched under your now ruined panties and guides his still leaking tip to your entrance. Pulling away from your lips, he slaps his hand over your mouth just as he pushes inside you in one sharp hard thrust. A cry of pleasure and maybe some pain falls from your lips, along side a long line of curse muffled agianst his rough hand as he fucks up into the wet heat of your pussy that clenches down on him.

“My pretty bestfriend’s gonna be such a good fuckin’ cock drunk whore, all f’me now, all mine” all you can do in nod in respone, your eyes nearly rolling back in pleasure.

→ a/n: I rushed the end of this so i could get it out today and get back on track with kinktober lmao and somehow its still 2 thousand words and some change lmao but anyway enjoy loves give me feedback and tell me if something is misspelled this wasnt read over as im tired.

[secretlovezz]

----------♡

Eddie is always touching you, he couldn't help it. The moment he became your boyfriend he made sure his hands never left you.

Finger laced into the belt loop of your jeans pulling your back to his chest so that he can rest his hands against the groove of your waist -maybe even slide them underneath the soft fabric of his your shirt so he can feel the heat of your skin against his palms- while waiting in line at the grocery store; he rest his chin on the top of your head letting the smell of your shampoo make his head spin with thoughts of only you. "You smell nice."

Man-spreading so that his knee would press into yours while the two of you hang out with friends, the fabric of his ripped jeans rubs your knee while he wraps his arm around your shoulders pulling your body closer to him because "You're too far away."

Very rarely do you allow him to shower with you because when he does he's too busy pressing himself against you, arms wrapped tightly around your torso or hands greedily pawing at your hips, instead of washing his messy mane of hair like you told him to. No matter the amount you scolded him in how often he got distracted or how he distracted you it went in one ear and out the other. "You shouldn't look so pretty then- It makes it hard to focus."

Cooking dinner with him home was a chore. He drapes himself along your back letting his body weight drop onto you, forcing you to hold him up while you mix something in a pot. When you grumble in annoyance he just smiles against your neck pursing his lips every once in a while to place loving kisses against your warm skin, enjoying the sound of your voice, in which he deemed it angelic, even as you chastise him again.

He just can't help how much he absolutely adores you, sometimes still in disbelief that someone as beautiful as you, inside and out, wanted to be his girlfriend and he knows that, even though you complain and nag at him, you love that he can't help wanting to touch you. He catches the small grin that etches itself across your face when he holds you in the shower or when you cook and he notices the way you hook your pinkie finger into the belt loop of his jeans as he snakes his arms around you in stores or when your hanging out with friends.

So, he'll always make sure his hands are on you, because he loves the way you grumble all without telling him to stop.

[keeryhours]

there is no other love (it’s only yours) - steve harrington

Steve Harrington x female! reader

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Summary:

You and your best friend are constantly mistaken for a couple - sometimes you have a little fun with it.

Or, 5 times you were mistaken for Steve Harrington’s girlfriend, and the one time you really were.

Warnings:

Kissing, underage drinking, just fluff

Word Count: 8k

A/N:

Wow this is finally getting posted! This has been in my docs half written since JANUARY. I’m excited to finally share it with you, and anon who requested this, I hope you’re still around to see it! Thank you @punkrockmlchael for my banner ❤️

The first time you were mistaken for Steve’s girlfriend, you were in high school. It was a Friday night and the atmosphere in Hawkins was electric. The basketball team was about to play the championship game, and the whole school was crowded into the gym.

You dressed in a shirt you made with Steve’s number, 11, painted onto it, Harrington across the back. You used face paint to draw little 11s onto your cheeks. When you walked into the gym, Steve spotted you immediately, running up to you and wrapping you in a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he said, a huge grin on his face. “Look at you, all school spirit-ed up!”

“Just for you,” you laughed. “Harrington’s #1 fan.”

Steve looked genuinely touched. He pulled you into another hug, holding you until his coach called for him.

“Harrington! We need you over here!”

Steve pulled back, hands on your shoulders as he smiled at you. “See you after the game. I better hear you in the crowd.” Then he turned and jogged back to where the rest of his team waited for him.

You were still smiling as you climbed the steps, finding a spot with a great view of the whole court. Carol and Tina gave you a strange look as you passed, but you ignored them.

The game started, and the crowd came alive. Your eyes were glued to Steve the whole time, watching as he expertly blocked the other team’s shots and made basket after basket. He was running the court, and you had never felt more proud.

The other team was not having a good time. One of their players in particular started getting rough with Steve, elbowing him and knocking him to the ground. You gasped, standing to get a better look, but he was fine. Jason offered him a hand and helped him up, and the ref called a foul.

Steve was awarded a free throw. He stood behind the free throw line, bouncing the ball a couple of times as he lined up his shot. He tossed the ball and it effortlessly flew through the air, swishing through the basket. He took his second free throw, once again sinking the ball in the basket. His teammates clapped him on the back as they got back to the game. Steve looked into the stands, spotting you immediately and giving you a smile and small wave that you happily returned.

The game was close. The clock ticked down the remainder of the fourth quarter, and the other team was just barely in the lead, 71 to 70. Steve got control of the ball, spinning around to face the net. The timer went on - 2 seconds, 1 second - and Steve took the shot. All of Hawkins held their breath as the ball flew through the air, seemingly in slow motion - and swished through the basket.

The crowd went wild. You stood, jumping up and down as you screamed your head off. The team surrounded Steve, lifting him high in the air as they chanted - “Harrington! Harrington! Harrington!”

You ran down the steps as fast as you could. Steve turned to you like you were the only person in the room, holding his arms out for you to run into. He scooped you up, twirling you around as you laid your head on his sweaty shoulder.

“That was incredible!” You exclaimed once he sat you down. “You were amazing out there!”

“Thank you,” he said, the huge grin plastered to his face. He was riding the high of the win, of being the star player of the Hawkins varsity basketball team. It was a well deserved pride.

Your moment was interrupted by Carol and Tina approaching. They gave you a look, eyes moving between you and Steve.

“So are you guys, like, dating now?” Carol asked, her tone bitchy as usual.

You opened your mouth to say no, you were just friends, but Steve beat you to it.

“Yeah, we are,” he said proudly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “We’ve been dating for a couple months now. She’s the best, isn’t she?”

You looked up at him in confusion, but decided to go along with it. “Oh, yeah,” you added. “Steve is just amazing. He’s the best boyfriend ever.”

Steve went on. “We’ve been best friends forever, you know, but I finally confessed my feelings and asked her out. I was terrified. But she said she felt the same, and the rest is history, as they say.” He chuckled. “Best thing I’ve ever done. She’s my dream girl.”

Carol and Tina both looked between you, their expressions judgmental as they chewed their bubblegum. “Well, good for you guys, I guess,” Carol said, before the two of them walked off.

When they were out of earshot, you turned to Steve, brows furrowed. “We’ve been dating for a couple months?” You questioned him, a laugh in your voice.

Steve shrugged, grinning. “Why not? It’s none of their business anyway.”

“You came up with a whole backstory.” You shook your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”

Everyone at school thought you were dating after that, and neither of you ever corrected anyone. When prom season rolled around, Steve asked you to go - just as friends. You went shopping with Robin and found the perfect dress - dark purple, sleeveless and with a poofy skirt. It fell to just below your knees. It made you feel beautiful, you had been looking forward to prom your whole life, never having an excuse to dress up like this.

Your older sister, Lori, came over, excited to help you get ready. You sat on the bench of your vanity, talking and laughing with her as she curled your hair, then did your makeup. She did your eyeshadow first, a smokey eye that went well with your dress. She painted your lips with a nude color. 

Steve picked you up that evening, knocking on your door and using his Harrington charm on your mom, who already loved him. She always told you that you and Steve should get married, and jokingly called him her son in law when he wasn’t around.

When you walked down the stairs and saw him, your heart skipped a beat. In reality you were just friends, of course, but he looked so handsome it nearly took your breath away. He was dressed in a black tux, a dark purple tie on to match your dress. He might have looked even better than you did, you thought.

“You look beautiful,” Steve said. He held a purple corsage in his hand, still in its clear box.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” You reached for the hall table and grabbed the matching purple boutonniere sitting on top.

Your mom took about a million photos as you pinned the boutonniere to Steve’s jacket and he slid the corsage onto your wrist. Then you were made to pose for another million photos. You didn’t entirely mind, and Steve sure didn’t - he was absolutely eating up the attention - but you were ready to get going when she was finally satisfied.

Steve held out his arm and you looped yours through his. Your parents and Lori watched you from the front door as you walked - and saw a limo sitting out front.

“Steve!” You gasped. “This is too much.”

“It’s not every day we go to prom,” he smiled. “I wanted to make it special.”

Steve held your hand as you climbed into the back of the limo, him right behind you. When the limo began moving, he reached into the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of champagne, holding it up on display and raising his eyebrows. “Want a drink?”

“Uh, yes,” you said, like it was obvious - which it was. Steve grinned as he grabbed two champagne flutes and filled them with the bubbly liquid.

You laughed together as you drank on the way to school, and by the time you got there you were both pretty tipsy. It was going to be a fun night.

Steve helped you climb out from the limo, escorting you inside. You stopped to take a photo together where Jonathan was running the booth. As you walked into the auditorium, Time After Time was just beginning to play.

Steve held out his hand - “Dance with me?”

You didn’t have to be asked twice. You took his hand and he led you to the dance floor, his hands sliding to your waist as your arms went around his neck and he held you close. You slow danced with your best friend, worried he could feel your heart beating against his own chest. The way he looked at you sent butterflies flying in your stomach. You almost thought he might kiss you.

But that would be silly, wouldn’t it?

After high school, you and Steve both got jobs at Scoops Ahoy. The uniforms were stupid and the job was mundane, but at least you got to work with your best friend. And Steve was pretty cute in the sailor outfit.

“I didn’t even know there were this many ice cream flavors in existence,” Steve said on your first day, looking down at the freezer in wonder. “It’s like…ice cream wonderland.”

You snorted. “Do you want some ice cream, Stevie?”

He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “Uh, yeah, I do. You’re telling me you’re not excited by free ice cream?”

“I guess it’s one perk of this shitty job.” You grabbed two of the sample spoons. “What flavor?”

Steve examined the freezer again. “Rocky Road.”

“Chocolate chip cookie dough for me,” you said, opening the glass door and scooping one of each flavor. You handed the spoon to Steve, who ate it right away.

Steve watched you as you ate the ice cream off the spoon, making you blush. You licked the delicious treat off the spoon, him watching you intently the whole time. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve said, shaking his head as he turned back to the cash register, acting like he was doing something very important as his shorts suddenly felt uncomfortably tight, the skin of his neck heating in a blush.

The two of you goofed around until the mall opened, then it was a steady stream of customers ready to cool down from the summer heat. It kept you busy, but some of the customers liked to talk.

“You’re such a beautiful girl,” one older lady commented one day as you scooped her mint chocolate chip. “Is that handsome young man your boyfriend?”

You started to laugh, “Oh, he’s-“

But Steve interrupted, putting his arm around you. Your heartbeat sped up, beating hard in your chest, although you didn’t know why. “Yeah, we’ve been dating for years. High school sweethearts. It was our dream to open this ice cream shop together. Now it’s finally come true, hasn’t it sweetheart?”

You looked at him. “That’s right babe. I’m just happy to be on this adventure, setting sail on the ocean of flavor, with you.”

Steve kissed you on the temple before he beamed back at the woman, who seemed to believe you as she took her ice cream, smiling at you both. “How cute. That’s wonderful. You remind me of me and my husband at your age.”

When she left, you and Steve busted out laughing. “Nice job, sweetheart,” he laughed.

“You’ve got to stop telling people we’re together,” you shook your head with a smile.

“Why? It’s fun.” Steve lifted his sailor hat to run a hand through his immaculate hair. You couldn’t help but notice his new sneakers he got to match his uniform. He would do something like that.

Steve was in the back when a group of familiar kids walked in. Before they could even ask, you turned. “Stevie, your kids are here!”

Steve came around the corner, hands on his hips. “Really? Again?”

“It’s Day of the Dead,” Dustin reasoned. “We can’t get in and we aren’t missing it.”

You wandered to the back, leaving Steve to deal with the group of kids using him to sneak into an R rated movie. You decided it was the perfect time to take your break, sitting at the table and grabbing your book from your bag, flipping to where you left off.

Out front, Dustin gave Steve a smirk. “So, that’s her?”

Steve’s head twisted around in a panic to make sure you were out of earshot. When he turned back to the kids, his expression was irritated. “Dude.”

“She’s pretty,” Mike commented. “I see why you’re so obsessed.”

“I am not-“ Steve looked around again before leaning closer onto the counter. “I am not obsessed.”

“Yeah, okay, man,” Lucas said, telling Steve he didn’t believe him for a second.

“You never shut up about her,” Max contributed. “We’re not dumb. It’s obvious you’re in loooove.”

Steve blushed furiously, looking down to hide the redness of his cheeks. “I am not…you know what, don’t you have a movie to catch?”

He quickly led them through the back, not giving a single one of them the opportunity to speak to you. He didn’t trust them one bit. He opened the door to the back hall and the kids all filed out, making kissy noises at him as they left.

Because Steve definitely wasn’t in love with you. You were just his best friend. Nothing more. He swears.

Your sister Lori had a baby girl 6 months after you graduated high school. She named her Annie, and she was really a perfect baby. Always so calm and well behaved, and she loved spending time with you and Steve.

You were basically volunteered for babysitting duty whenever it was needed, but you didn’t mind. You always loved kids, and you loved your sister and your niece. It was fun to play house for the day, go out in public and pretend you were a mom. It was especially fun when Steve tagged along, because, well, he made everything more fun.

When Annie was 1 year old, your sister left you in charge while she and her husband went to Indianapolis for the day. You and Steve decided to have a fun day and take her out to the children’s museum. She had just gotten walking down and always wanted to be independent now.

It took Steve an annoyingly long time to find a parking spot and it was making Annie fussy, so when he finally did, you were all relieved.

“Way too fuckin’ busy for a Tuesday,” Steve grumbled as he killed the car engine and started unbuckling his seat belt. You grabbed Annie from the back and got her buckled in her stroller, which Steve pushed to the front door. He bought three tickets from the counter and you all headed inside, Annie looking at the surrounding ocean exhibit with wide eyed wonder.

Steve was amazing with kids. It always made you feel warm and fuzzy inside to see him interact with them, and the way he played with your niece was no exception. He sat her on his shoulders as he walked through the museum, giving her the best view of anything she could want to see.

When you reached the mini grocery store setup, Steve sat the wiggling toddler down and she grabbed his hand, leading him through the fake store. She added all kinds of pretend food to her mini shopping cart, and when she was done, Steve manned the cash register and scanned her purchases.

“Having a cookout this weekend?” Steve asked as he scanned a pretend pack of hot dogs. “Beautiful weather for it.” When she was done, she walked off with her cart. Steve stopped her - “Ma’am! Your change!”

In the playground area, Annie found some toddlers her age and began playing with the blocks with them. You and Steve took a much needed break as you sat together on a bench with Annie in full view.

“Long day,” Steve sighed, stretching his arms above his head. His shirt rode up the slightest bit, revealing a tiny bit of skin. Your eyes went right to it.

“Yeah,” you agreed when you wiped the drool off your chin. “You having fun though?”

“‘Course,” Steve smiled at you. “I love hanging out with my girls.”

His girls. The sentence made you feel giddy, like you weren’t just babysitting your niece and maybe had an actual family with Steve. A wedding ring, an adorable brown haired hazel eyed child. You let yourself entertain the thought.

The couple sat on the bench next to you turned your way, the woman giving you a friendly smile. “Is she yours?” She asked, pointing to Annie.

“Oh, yeah,” you answered. Steve leaned around you to look at the couple. “Her name is Annie.”

“She’s adorable,” the woman said. “That’s mine, Oliver.” She pointed to the little boy handing Annie a block. “Sorry if it’s rude to ask, but how old are you two?”

“We’re nineteen,” Steve answered for you. “Just graduated from Hawkins High a year ago.”

“That’s where we met,” the woman said, smiling at her husband before turning back to you. “You’re so young. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Well,” you began, looking at Steve. “It’s definitely hard, but we always knew we wanted kids. Especially Steve.” You leaned on his shoulder, smiling at the couple like you were head over heels in love. “So we got an early start.”

“I’m 30 and I still feel like I don’t know what I’m doing sometimes,” she laughed. “You two are doing great. You have a beautiful family.”

The comment made your heart soar, as if you hadn’t just completely lied to this woman and it wasn’t all pretend. You squeezed Steve’s hand, and he returned it.

When Annie started fussing and rubbing her eyes, you knew it was time to get her home for a nap. You just hoped the day’s excursion had worn her out enough to lay down without a fuss and take a good one. You put her back in her stroller, and Steve pushed it as you left the building.

“So I have to stop making up stories about us being together?” Steve whispered, teasing you for your earlier words.

You blushed. “It was just the perfect opportunity. She totally assumed we were together and Annie was ours.”

“She did,” Steve agreed. “But you surprised me, I didn’t think you’d go for it. I mean, I would have if you didn’t, but still.”

You burst into laughter. “I knew you were thinking it!”

Steve laughed, too. He shook his head, brown locks brushing against the collar of his shirt. “Of course I was thinking it.”

Annie was passed out by the time you got her back into her car seat. Steve was such a natural with her, it made your heart flutter in your chest. You thought about what it might be like if you were together, if Steve was really your boyfriend - or husband - and you had a child together. You knew he would be the best dad in the world. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind.

He played the radio quietly as you drove back home. Neither of you spoke, not wanting to wake Annie. She probably wouldn’t nap once you got home, so you wanted her to get as much rest as possible. But every now and then Steve would turn to you, giving you a soft smile that made your stomach do flips.

When he dropped you off, he helped you carry the sleeping baby inside. Your sister held her hand over her chest as she watched Steve with Annie, shooting you a knowing look behind his back that had you blushing.

“Thank you for taking her,” she told you both. She kept shooting you glances that were far too obvious for your comfort.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Steve said, usual charming smile on his face. “We had a good time.”

“Yeah?” Lori asked, smiling between you two like an idiot. You gave her a look that said please stop.

“Yes,” you answered for the both of you. You pushed Steve through the house and to your bedroom as he laughed.

“I like your sister,” Steve said, laughing. “I don’t know why you’re always trying to get away from her.”

“She’s embarrassing,” you muttered.

“She’s nice,” Steve said.

Yeah, when she isn’t trying to embarrass you in front of your friend. You shook your head. “You don’t get it. You don’t have any siblings.”

Steve kind of deflated at that, and you instantly felt bad. You knew Steve’s family was a touchy subject. His parents were pretty emotionally neglectful, never around, hardly cared what Steve did as long as he showed up to school and didn’t get himself killed. But he was lonely, and always had been. He’d wished for a sibling for as long as he could remember.

You put a hand on his shoulder. “You can have her, if you want.”

That got a smile out of Steve. He nudged your forehead with his own. “Nah. I’d rather just spend time with you.”

“You’re coming tonight, right?” Eddie asked excitedly, practically bouncing up and down as he cornered you, Steve, and Robin at Family Video.

“It is Tuesday,” you said, closing up a VHS box and giving Eddie a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Ed.”

Eddie was beaming as he turned to Steve and Robin expectantly. Steve had been leaning against the counter on one arm, watching you and Robin. With Eddie’s waiting gaze on him, Steve looked between you and him. “Well, I don’t go anywhere without her, so. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“We’ll all be there,” Robin said. “Calm down.”

Eddie was practically bouncing off the walls. This was a big show for Corroded Coffin - not the typical Tuesday night crowd with five drunks. The rumor was someone from a label was supposed to be there. Eddie had been demanding you all come for moral support - and to make the crowd look at least a little bit better.

That night, you dug through your closet looking for something metal concert-appropriate. You didn’t have much to choose from. You ultimately decided on a black top that tied in the front and a tiny little matching skirt. Some tall lace up boots and tights pulled the look together.

When you walked outside to Steve’s car, you could see his eyes widen through the window. You had to pull your skirt down as you got in to keep from flashing him.

“Jesus,” Steve practically choked out. “You look-“

“Ridiculous?” you filled in for him. “Yeah, I know.”

“That…is not what I was going to say.” Steve shook his head, blowing out a long breath of air as he backed out of the driveway.

You picked up Robin next, who slid into the backseat behind you. Both Steve and Robin were dressed in their normal wardrobe - you felt kind of like a total fucking idiot. This wasn’t you.

You didn’t notice the way Steve kept looking at you, letting his gaze linger way longer than he knew he should’ve. Robin noticed.

At the Hideout, Steve put a hand on your lower back and led you into the crowded bar. It was packed for a Tuesday. Steve left you and Robin in a booth and took to the bar with his fake ID.

When he came back, he had three beers held in his hands. He placed them down in front of each of you and slid into the booth on your side.

There were a few opening acts before Corroded Coffin - no one particularly interesting. You were barely listening to the music at all as you chatted with Robin and Steve, laughing harder and harder the more drinks you got in your system.

When Eddie came onstage, the three of you cheered louder than anyone. He caught your eyes in the crowd immediately, smiling and waving back. The band started playing, and you nodded along to the music.

“I need another drink,” you said, hinting that Steve should get up to let you out.

“I’ll go get it for you,” he said, standing.

“No, I need to stretch my legs,” you said. You had forgotten just how tiny your skirt was until you stood and could feel the breeze on your upper thighs. “We can go together.”

Steve nodded, leading you through the crowd. You may not have noticed, but Steve didn’t miss the way every guy in the bar was looking at you, letting their eyes freely drop to your barely-covered ass. Steve shot dirty looks to all of them, staying close behind with his hands on you at all times.

You made it to the bar, leaning against it. It was packed, the bartender all the way at the other end. “This is gonna take forever,” you groaned.

“Wait here,” Steve said. “I’ll go catch him down there. Another beer?”

“And some shots,” you smirked, which Steve returned. You watched him go, disappearing into the crowd of people.

“That your boyfriend?”

You turned around, startled. A large man stood behind you, not entirely unfriendly looking, but you knew better than to trust strange men in bars. “What?”

“Was that your boyfriend?” the man asked, gesturing towards Steve. You looked back at him at the bar before turning back to the man.

“Yes,” you said on instinct.

The man looked like he didn’t quite believe you, like maybe you were just trying to get rid of him (you were). “How long you been together?”

“5 years,” you said easily, thinking of the day you and Steve had become official best friends. “High school sweethearts.”

“Oh yeah?” the man said, his little interest waning.

“Yeah,” you said. “Actually, he stole me from that guy up there.” You gestured up to where Eddie was going crazy on stage, and the man’s eyes widened. “We were together for a little while. But Steve? He’s the real rocker, if you know what I mean.”

The man looked thoroughly uncomfortable at this point. The sight of Steve coming back over from over your shoulder was enough of a push for him to get out of this interaction. “Have a good rest of your night.”

“The real rocker, huh?” Steve asked with a smirk, sliding up next to you and handing you a shot. He carried both your beers in his one hand. You tilted your head back and swallowed the shot with ease. “What was that about?”

“Nothing,” you said. “I think he was gonna hit on me. Asked if you were my boyfriend.”

“And you said yes?” Steve asked teasingly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t want to deal with that.”

“Nice story,” Steve said, and you blushed, realizing he had probably overheard more than you thought. “I’m the real rocker?” he repeated, like he had really gotten a kick out of that.

You shrugged. “It made him uncomfortable. I thought it was funny.” You took a second shot.

Steve looked at you - really looked at you. His eyes slowly trailed over your body, your outfit, taking in every inch of skin exposed by the tiny material. His heart thudded harder, harder in his chest. He opened his mouth to say something he’d probably regret when Robin came up between you, grabbing your arm.

“You guys took forever,” she said. “Now I need a drink.”

It had been a few years since graduation when Richard Harrington decided he was done torturing his son and gave him a job at his insurance company.

Steve’s first real Big Boy Job. A job where he had to dress in business casual, get up early to style his hair and iron his shirts. He did well there, rising up the ladder faster than expected - you knew it was on Steve’s own merit because his dad wasn’t exactly the charitable type.

You were a junior in college, studying education. Dean’s list, soaring grades, on track to be class valedictorian. Things were going well.

“Do you want to come with me to the company Christmas party?” Steve asked one evening as you were lounging at your apartment. He was still in his work clothes, button up shirt undone with his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He’d come over right after he got off. Most days, all he wanted to do when he got off work was hang out with you.

“You want me to go?” you asked, sitting your mug of hot chocolate on the coffee table.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve said, like it was obvious. “I mean, it’s probably gonna be lame, but if you’re there-“

“I’ll go,” you said. “Do I need to dress up?”

“Uh…yeah. Probably,” Steve said.

“It’s fun to have an excuse to dress up sometimes,” you mused.

You couldn’t find anything in your closet you actually liked that fit the vibe of Steve’s fancy annual company Christmas party - so you dragged Robin and Lori out shopping with you. Lori was having fun, at least.

“How many dresses are you gonna try on?” Robin whined, running her hand absentmindedly through the rack of clothes. “I feel like you’ve tried on everything in the store.”

“I just haven’t found the right dress yet,” you mumbled as you examined a little black number on the rack. For some reason, this had to be perfect. You had to look perfect. It was important to you.

“You’ll find it,” Lori said. “It’s in here. I can feel it.”

It was an hour later, and Robin was dragging her feet. You were starting to feel bad - maybe you shouldn’t have brought her, but you missed her since you no longer worked together. You didn’t get to see each other as often.

“Oh my god,” Lori said, slowly pulling a hanger down. “This…”

You turned and saw your sister holding a glittering short red dress. It was stunning. It fit the Christmas/winter wonderland vibe perfectly. You took it from her, the material softer against your skin than you expected.

“Go try it on,” Lori encouraged.

You went into the changing room for what felt like the millionth time and shed your familiar clothes. You took the dress off the hanger, the fabric cascading across your skin like water. It was easy to put on, too.

You stepped out of the dressing room, and Lori gasped.

“Oh, finally,” Robin said.

Turning to look in the mirror against the wall, seeing yourself in the dress for the first time - it took your breath away. You had never felt particularly confident in yourself, but if anything was going to give you unbeatable confidence, it was this dress.

“You look so hot,” Lori said.

“Agreed,” Robin added. “This is the one. And I’m not just saying that because I wanted to get out of here 6 dresses ago.”

That night you dressed in your new gown. The hem went right to mid thigh, showing off your legs in a very sexy way. It showed off your cleavage just enough without it being too revealing for a company Christmas party.

You knew Steve was just your best friend, but you were about to knock him dead.

He picked you up right on time, the knock on the door coming at 6 on the dot. You opened your apartment door to the sight of Steve dressed in navy pants with a white and grey button up and matching suit jacket - a red tie around his neck that somehow matched your dress perfectly. He wore his glasses, which he hardly ever did. 

He had been standing there in his normal bored kinda way, leaning against the door frame as he waited for you to answer like he had much more interesting things to do. But once you opened the door and he saw you, he practically choked, standing up straight and nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Wow,” he finally managed to get out. “You- you look incredible.”

“Looking handsome yourself,” you smiled playfully, grabbing your black clutch from the hall table. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, ready,” he said, still distracted. Even with his mind reeling and actively trying not to look too hard at your body, he led you to the car with his hand on your back, opening the door for you and holding your hand as you sat down.

“Is this a date, Harrington?” you teased him as he got into the driver’s seat of his new car. “This feels kinda like a date.”

Steve laughed lightly. “Just trying to be a gentleman.” He thought for a second. “I guess you could be considered my date for the night. By some people.”

“Our first date,” you cooed playfully. “Cute.”

At the office building, Steve parked in his designated spot - close to the front. He helped you out and escorted you inside with you hanging onto his arm. You stepped on the elevator and Steve pressed the button for the 15th floor.

The doors closed, and you and Steve were left in the quiet, the only sound the rumbling of the ascending metal box.

Steve cleared his throat. He looked like he was trying to look anywhere but at you. It was starting to make you feel a little bad. “Do you not like my dress?” you asked softly, your earlier confidence being left behind in the ground floor lobby. “Are you embarrassed?”

“No!” Steve said quickly, almost a little too loud. “No, that’s not- I like it. I really like it. You look stunning. Actually…” he thought for a second. “Stunning,” he said again. “You’re gonna be the hottest chick there.”

You laughed, feeling a little better. You just couldn’t understand why Steve was being so weird.

On the top floor, it was much louder. Muffled Christmas music traveled down the bright white hall, and Steve led you down, opening the door for you.

A party had been set up inside, not huge, but pretty big. Lots of guys in suits dressed similarly to Steve, mingling with drinks in their hands and beautiful women on their sides. You were sure most of these women had rings on their fingers, however. Big, flashy rocks.

Steve was quickly wrapped up in a whirlwind of conversations with his colleagues. You were each handed a champagne flute that you sipped on while you listened to Steve talk about things you didn’t understand while smiling and laughing at the appropriate times.

But Steve kept his hands on you. If you weren’t holding onto his arm, his left arm was around your waist, or his hand on the small of your back. And you couldn’t help but notice how handsome and grown he looked. Steve never wore his glasses, but all of a sudden you wished he would more often.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you whispered to Steve just as he got waved over by another man.

He looked down at you. “Do you want me to take you? They’re just over there, but-“

“No, I’m okay,” you smiled. “Keep mingling. I’ll be right back.”

Steve watched you leave, the sway of your hips in the fabric of that dress near hypnotizing. When you were out of sight, he turned and walked over to Tom, the guy who had been calling him over.

“Hey, man,” Tom greeted, clapping Steve on the back. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah, having a pretty good time,” Steve answered with a friendly smile.

“Was that your girl?” Tom asked, nodding in the direction you’d gone. And Steve wasn’t going to play the game tonight - he really wasn’t - but then Tom said, “Because I’ve been watching her all night, and she’s hot as hell. I was going to ask for her number if she’s just a friend. Or maybe you could set a guy up?” He waggled his eyebrows at Steve mischievously, and Steve felt like he could’ve punched the guy.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Steve said. He told Tom your name - and it had never felt quite so right rolling off his tongue.

“Lucky bastard,” Tom teased. “I hope you appreciate what you’ve got. Because that girl is-“

“Yeah, I get it,” Steve said, politely cutting him short. “I’m a lucky guy, believe me I know it.”

“How’d you two meet?”

“High school,” Steve answered easily. “She was, uh…she was my assigned math tutor.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as he recounted the memory. “Brought me from a D to an A in that class. I’d never learned so much in my life.”

“If my math teacher looked like that…”

Steve smiled, as if he was lost down memory lane. “We became best friends after that. Literally inseparable since. I haven’t gone a day without her in 10 years.”

“That’s sweet man, really,” Tom said, more genuine this time. “I’m happy for you. You deserve a nice girl. Just don’t be an idiot - don’t let her go.”

Don’t let her go.

The words rang around in Steve’s ears for the rest of the night. Even when you returned, back by his side while he made the rounds - he couldn’t stop thinking about what Tom had said. Don’t let her go. Don’t let her go.

Steve hadn’t realized how he felt about you until it slapped him in the face in that exact moment - out of nowhere, it nearly knocked him off his feet. He looked down at you, smiling and laughing as you sipped on your champagne and talked with his boss’s wife - and it nearly took his breath away.

How had he been so stupid all these years?

Sure, there had been times he was unbearably attracted to you - but he was only a man, and you usually happened to be wearing something unreasonably sexy when it happened. Like now.

But there was more. It was the way his heart clenched when you laughed. The way you made him smile like no one else. They way you made him laugh, kept up with his sense of humor, never made him feel stupid or less than. You befriended everyone - there wasn’t a cruel bone in your body. Friend of everyone, yet you never let anything get in the way of your friendship with Steve. You were his best friend.

And he loved you.

He had to get out of there.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked you, mid conversation.

You looked up at him, surprised. “What?”

“I think I’m ready to go,” he said. “I just think…I need to get out of here. Get some fresh air.”

You looked at him with your eyebrows drawn together in concern. “Okay. We can go.”

Grateful you didn’t put up a fight while Steve felt like he was losing his mind, he told everyone a quick goodbye and led you back to the elevator. The ride down was silent, and significantly more awkward. Steve couldn’t wait to be out.

The elevator dinged as it stopped at the lobby once more, and Steve speed walked off. You were running as fast as you could in your heels, trying to keep up. “Steve, wait up! Where are you going?”

He was outside now, the cold air whipping through his hair and making his nose burn. He knew you had to be freezing in that tiny little dress. He had made it to the large fountain in the courtyard when he turned abruptly, nearly making you knock onto his chest.

“Jesus,” you said, stopping. “What are you doing, Stevie? What happened in there? Are you okay?”

Steve didn’t answer any of your questions because he didn’t know how to. Instead, he took his suit jacket off and handed it to you. “Here. You’re probably cold.”

You looked at him strangely. But you were cold, so you took the jacket and slipped it over your shoulders. “Thanks.”

It was silent besides the running water sounds of the fountain. You and Steve just looked at each other, the only ones outside at this time of night. The party was still in full swing upstairs. You just stared each other down, both of you waiting on someone - the other or yourselves - to make the first move.

Steve finally took a step closer to you. He said your name, so gently it floated across to you on the breeze.

“What’s going on with you?” you asked. “I thought we were having a good time, and-“

“I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes went wide and you reeled back as if you’d been struck. “What?”

“You heard me.” Steve took another step. “I’m in love with you. I’m fucking in love with you. And I don’t think I can pretend I’m not anymore.”

You were in complete shock. The sounds of the rushing water filled your ears once again, and you gaped at Steve like a fish as you tried to come up with something to say. It felt like your brain had just completely short circuited.

Steve began to look defeated. His head dropped and he held intense eye contact with his loafers. “I…I just had to tell you. I’m sorry.”

More rushing water. Then - “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I think I just ruined the friendship,” he said. “I think I just ruined our fucking friendship.”

“No,” you said immediately. It was your turn to take a step closer. “You didn’t.”

Steve slowly looked up at you, taking his time meeting your eyes as if he were afraid. You’d never seen Steve afraid. “I didn’t?”

“No,” you said. “Because I…I love you too. I’m in love with you too.”

You just stared at each other. That damn fountain carrying the whole atmosphere. Steve took another step, and he was standing so close to you you could smell his cologne and aftershave. His head was tilted down, looking into your eyes like he was reading you from the inside out. “You love me?”

It took you a minute to get your bearings. Your heart was pounding now, and you felt like your body was filled with bubbles from the champagne. Light, bubbly, like you could float away or maybe just pop out of existence. You nodded shakily. “Yeah. I…I love you.”

Steve’s forehead came down to gently rest against your own. Then he slowly raised his arm - his hand finding its spot on the side of your neck, cradling your jaw. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice so low you could barely hear him. “And I’m in love with you. So, so in love with you. Think I always have been.”

“Steve…”

He shook his head just barely. “Just let me…”

He leaned in those last couple of inches, and then Steve’s lips were pressed against yours. 

When people talk about sparks flying during a kiss, you’d never believed them. It had certainly never happened to you, and you’d kissed plenty of people. But you had never kissed Steve.

He moved his lips against yours so softly and slowly. Like he wanted to feel and savor every second of the kiss, didn’t want to rush. He was hungry for it, but he could take his time. Your hands came to sit on his biceps as his free hand rested on your waist.

It felt so right. It didn’t feel like a first kiss - there was no awkwardness, nothing uncomfortable, just pure passion and love and desire. Steve was a good kisser, too. His tongue traced your lip and you opened for him, his tongue just barely brushing against yours.

Steve let out the slightest breathy moan, like he had finally gotten something he’d been longing for for so long. Your knees wobbled and his grip tightened on your hip, pulling your body closer into his.

“Don’t go fallin’ for me too hard, now,” Steve smirked, his voice so low and deep it gave you chills even though he was being his normal cheesy self.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Harrington,” you said, still breathless from the kiss. Steve only smiled bigger.

He kissed you again, shorter this time. A couple soft pecks against your lips, then a longer press, like he didn’t want to stop. “Be my girlfriend.”

“Are you serious?” you laughed. “How much champagne did you have?”

“Hardly any,” he said, “and I’m dead serious. Did you not just hear me tell you I love you?”

“You meant that?” you whispered.

“‘Course I did,” he whispered back, nudging your nose with his own. “I want you. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. All those shitty dates…my failed love life…” Steve laughed lightly. “And you were right here in front of me the whole time.”

Your expression softened, looking up at Steve with eyes that were somehow glittering in the night. Steve’s breath hitched in his throat - you were quite literally breathtaking.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Steve’s smile grew. His only reaction was to pull you in again, wrapping his arms around your body as yours went around his neck and he kissed you nice and slow again with all the love in the world, beneath the December stars.

“Can you help me with the potato salad?” Lori asked, already three dishes in her arms and Annie clung to her leg.

“Yeah, of course,” you said, jumping into action. You grabbed the bowl of potato salad along with the ice bucket and followed Lori out into the backyard.

The sun was shining, a perfect Memorial Day. The cousins were splashing in the pool, the older relatives talking as they sat in the warm sun with smiles on their faces and beers or lemonades in their hands. You and Lori put the dishes down on the buffet table. Lori was dressed in a one piece swimsuit with a sheer coverup on top, while you were in your red bikini top with short jean shorts over the bottoms.

“Finally,” Lori said. “I didn’t think the food was ever gonna get done.” She turned to you, hands on her hips as she caught her breath. There had been a lot of running around, and she was five months pregnant. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course,” you said. “I couldn’t leave you to fend for yourself with the aunts.” Family had come from all over the surrounding states for this Memorial Day reunion, and it was…a lot.

Lori let out a groan. “Thank god for you.”

You squealed as arms wrapped themselves around your body and lifted you into the air. Lori just watched on with a knowing yet amused smile.

“Steve!” you scolded once he’d set you down. You slapped at his arm lightly.

“What?” he said. “I missed you.”

“It’s been like 20 minutes!”

“Tell me about it,” he said, pulling your body into his and kissing you.

“Get a room,” Lori teased, although she was still smiling as she turned and walked away.

“Are you enjoying the party?” you asked Steve as he picked up a deviled egg and popped it into his mouth.

“Yeah,” he said. He chewed and swallowed. “Your family is nice.”

“You weren’t scared to meet the whole family after only 5 months of dating?” You smiled, your hand running over his bare chest.

“‘Course not,” Steve said. “I’ve already been part of the family for years. The extended family didn’t scare me.”

You loved that about Steve. He was so confident and sure of himself. One of endless things you loved about him.

You heard a voice calling your name. Your grandma was approaching, her paper plate piled high with potluck food. “Is this your boyfriend I’ve heard so much about?” she asked with a sly smile as she reached the two of you.

You smiled, looking up at Steve. He beamed back down at you like he’d never been happier in his life, his hand gently rubbing your lower back. “Yeah,” you said. “He is.”

“Hi,” Steve offered her his hand. “Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“He’s a cute one,” she whispered to you, but Steve definitely heard. You were sure he didn’t need the ego boost. “Don’t let him go.”

You leaned your head against Steve’s shoulder, and he squeezed your hip.

Yeah. You didn’t plan on it.

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[strangerstilinski]

smoke me out

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you and eddie are friends — and really, what's a little shotgunning amongst friends? [ 7.4k ]

𝗰𝘄: friends to lovers, dubcon bc they're high, reader with a vagina & breasts, drug use (weed), smoking & shotgunning, pathetic attempts at dirty talk, unprotected sex, cream pie, and goofy eddie (always)

𝗮/𝗻: the stoner in me came out at the beginning, ngl. this is just a horny culmination of my need to shotgun with eddie and also to rub his sweaty body with my own. and yes, that one part is inspired by the gifs of the hoard scene featuring joe's tight little ass grinding away.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝟏𝟖+ 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

It's just you and Eddie today.

You're propped up against the headboard side by side, a nest of pillows providing you both with a cushion from the uncomfortable framework behind your bed. The muted sound of James Hetfield's voice floating through your stereo speakers over a heavy clash of drums and guitar has your head bobbing in time with the beat. Eddie has long-since gone from shredding on air guitar to intently staring at the way his own ringed fingers bend toward his palm every time the pitch shifts incrementally, mentally contemplating the chord changes by ear. 

Despite the windows thrown open on either side of the room, your small apartment reeks of smoke and weed. The humid Indiana summer air filtering through the curtains is not nearly strong enough to properly air out the cramped space. It's one of those wonderfully warm days — peak summertime. Not overly hot, but enough to have your skin prickling with heat beneath a tank top and cotton shorts. 

Eddie is still lounging in a threadbare pair of checkered pajama pants and a cutoff tee, the top half of his hair tied back in a haphazard bun to lessen the weight of the thick curls sticking to his neck. 

Eddie is prone to complaining when it's hot. Or when it's cold. And also when it's rainy. Or windy. 

Point is, you're not sure why he's yet to complain about the lack of air conditioning in your apartment, but Eddie seems content as ever. It could have something to do with the little glass pipe the two of you have been passing back and forth all afternoon. The bowl on the end had been packed tight, more than enough weed to have both of you thoroughly stoned, well before it's even finished.

The ceiling fan is stirring up the faintest breeze. You've burned yourself thrice on a rogue, billowing flame while trying to light up. The circulating air keeps pushing an errant dark curl down over Eddie's face every time he dips his head to take a hit.. You've combed it back for him four times, already—God forbid he set his hair on fire. Again. You're not sure he's even noticed the way your hand lingers on that smooth strip of skin behind his ear just a little longer each time.

But you can't help it, not with the way everything's gone a little foggy at the edges. Your eyes seem to process your surroundings in near slow-motion, all while the world shines with a barely-perceptible gleam. The last twenty minutes the two of you have spent smoking have done wonders to soften the world around you. Your head is full of air in that familiarly pleasant way that leaves you feeling a bit like you might float away at any second. Like a balloon in the sky. And with the added bonus of Eddie by your side, you're entirely relaxed. Contented.  

Weak beneath the lazy weight of your high pressing in on you, you suddenly flop your weight down sideways across the bed, your head landing over Eddie's thighs. You blink slow up at him, hazy gaze focusing on the underside of Eddie's face while he brings his bony knees up from the mattress to cage you a little closer to his chest. The angle would be outrageous were you looking up at anyone else, you're sure, but Eddie..

He's so pretty.

All rogue-ish boy. Unkempt and wild, but still entirely beautiful.

You can't help the way your hand finds its way up, up, up. Your fingertips dancing across the barely-there five o'clock shadow on the edge of his jaw. You trace the hard line all the way from his chin to his ear, his stubble scratchy and wholly soothing when you lightly scrape your nails against the grain of it.

Eddie, on the other hand, has found himself entirely focused on the way gravity has moved your breasts in your new position below him. The awkward angle has carried them up and out, bra-less and soft and hypnotizing. They shift just a little every time your hand moves across his face. The tank top you've chosen to wear today is thin, indecently so, in his opinion. His brown eyes have been glued to the obvious outline of your nipples beneath the fabric since the moment you'd greeted him at the door, and his ogling has only gotten less subtle as his high settled in. He risks another longing glance down past your collar bones, reddened eyes dragging over the shape of your puffy nipples hidden underneath.

You're thumbing softly at the coarse hairs just under his chin when Eddie gives in to impulse and  purses his lips to blow a cool breath of air over your neck and chest. You can't help but giggle as your skin reacts, goosebumps spreading down your arms, and unbeknownst to you, your nipples tightening into semi-hard peaks beneath your top.

They're not the only things that are suddenly semi-hard. 

Eddie smacks his lips and swallows the drool that he's embarrassed to admit has pooled beneath his tongue. His ring-clad knuckles brush the side of your breast as he reaches to take the forgotten bowl from the blankets. 

He attempts to gather himself as he takes another hit. He holds it for a count of five and then exhales a cloud of smoke whilst urging himself to imagine something utterly repulsive.. His uncle in the shower, roadkill, the way his balls itch uncomfortably after he plays a gig at The Hideout in too-tight jeans — anything that might keep him from popping an unwanted boner while you've got your pretty, unassuming head resting in his lap.

Your fingers are now trailing lightly over the light freckles dotting the bridge of Eddie's nose. His skin is a little pink from yesterday's sun, despite the number of times you'd physically dragged him from Steve's pool to apply sunscreen to his steadily-reddening cheeks. The previous day outside has Eddie's barely-there freckles appearing far more visible than usual, speckled along the round tip of his nose, his cheeks, even the crinkles around his eyes. You think they make him look even more handsome, boyish perhaps, but handsome all the same.

Through the warm fog in your brain, you find yourself smiling up at him. A dopey grin on your face as you poke at the soft apples of his cheeks — Like he's your own personal plaything. Your heart ticks excitedly when the corner of Eddie's lips quirk up at you in response, his pupils blown wide, surrounded by a thin ring of molten chocolate. His teeth flash with his sweet little chuckle of amusement, cheeks dimpling beneath the sparsest area of his stubble.

“You've got freckles,” You comment quietly. “They're cute.” You smack your lips once, mouth dry with dehydration, “I like 'em.. 'nd your stubble, too. Feels nice.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, stoned and more than a bit flattered under the weight of your attention. His chest puffs up a little proudly, his words flowing without any real thought behind them, “Made it all myself.. 'S hard work.. But, uh, y'know. Someone's gotta do it.”

He slips his lighter between two of his fingers and holds the bowl off to the side so that he can drag the fingers of his free hand softly, delicately, over your hair where it's fanned out over his lap. He doesn't want to mess it up, especially doesn't want one of his rings to get caught and pull. But it looks so soft, and through the haze, he can't fight the impulse to simply.. touch. So gently. 

His attention seems intently focused on the careful motions of his fingers along your hair, and you take advantage of his distraction by finally allowing your gaze to drop to his mouth. Eddie keeps slowly rolling and biting his lips between his teeth. Canines dig into the flesh before he's scrunching his nose and pursing his lips, only to scrape his teeth over them again in a never-ending loop. You doubt he's even aware he's doing it but it's beginning to make his lips swell, the skin darkening to a brighter shade of pink from the abuse.

All at once, your trance is broken when his tongue pokes out to wet his smoke-dry lips. Your mind flashes suddenly with an idea. 

The absence of both the Hellfire crew and your other friends was truly a rarity. You hardly ever got to be alone with Eddie like this. You'd tried to ask him out once upon a time- No, not just once. Twice. Twice you'd asked him on a date — both of which had somehow ended in group excursions rather than romantic one-on-one time, how it had happened two separate times, you still weren't sure — and at this point you'd given up entirely. Because maybe it just wasn't meant to be. It was okay, really, you'd almost grown content in your longing. 

But, the way Eddie's lips shone lightly after his tongue stroked over them.. It had your brain reeling with possibility. If you were ever going to get his mouth on yours in private, even just for a fleeting moment, it didn't seem possible that an opportunity so seamless would ever present itself again.

It was worth a shot.

“I want another hit.” You tell him, licking at your own lips as brown eyes refocus on your face.

“M'kay, well, you're prob'ly gonna need to sit up for that, sweets,” Eddie points out, entirely unaware of the way your tummy always swoops when the thoughtless pet name falls from his lips. “Unless you were really lookin' t'get a face full'a ash.. In which case, you can definitely keep layin-” A burst of air leaves his nose with a laugh of surprise, repeating his own words to himself with a sweetly boyish giggle, “Sounds like ass. Face full'a ass. Now, that I'd like-”

Normally you'd join in on the joke. Poke a little fun at him for saying such a thing. Freak. You'd say it fondly, with an eye roll to go with it, maybe you'd throw in a half-serious offer involving his face and your backside- But you don't say any of those things. You can't. You're in the middle making the not-so-carefully crafted scene in your head a reality — And, can't he see that? Why is he trying to distract you? 

“Ash. Riiight, uh huh. Well,” You pause, feign innocence before your next words. “Maybe.. Maybe you could shotgun it to me n' that way I can stay right here?” You suggest cautiously, before adding as an afterthought, “If you want, I mean.” 

Any amusement is immediately stripped from Eddie's expression. He spends a few achingly long seconds blinking down at you with heavy eyelids, gaze hooded and distant. His weed-hazy brain takes a moment to actually process your words, but then, just as suddenly as he'd zoned out, he's nodding and bringing the glass pipe back up to his lips, one hand cupped around the end to shield the flame from the path of the ceiling fan.

The lighter clicks and swishes quietly as he lights up. He lowers the bowl after a long second, ringed hand dipping beneath your head and guiding you oh-so gently to arch your neck upward, until he can lean down and press his mouth down softly against yours. 

That first soft brush of his lips has your whole body thrumming. Butterflies begin a rampage in your stomach, so much so that you have to actively remind yourself to part your lips beneath his.

He presses down just a bit more, lips squishing solidly to your own parted ones and sending your heart racing dangerously, but then he's exhaling the smoke into your waiting mouth. You breathe it in as it comes, letting the warmth of it flow from his body and into your own.

He watches you intently as he moves to pull back and sit upright again. Watches the way you seal your mouth shut, lips rolling between your teeth while your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks. You allow the smoke to simply sit in your lungs for a long moment before relaxing your chest and exhaling through your nose, releasing the diluted cloud up into the air between you. 

Eddie blinks down at you with heavy lids. There's a long moment of silence between you. It's a palpable thing — not quite awkward or tense, but brimming with an unexpected energy that neither one of you can quite decipher. It's charged. Something like static electricity, or the tether between two magnets of an opposite charge. It nearly tingles in the breadth of space between you.

Eddie feels it. He wonders if you feel it too.

“D'you want another hit?” He asks after a minute, his voice scratchy.

You merely nod your head, not trusting your own voice, and the movement has you refocusing suddenly on the soft press of his calloused fingers where they linger against the nape of your neck. You watch with bated breath as Eddie brings the glass pipe in his hand back to his lips again, letting his gentle grip fall from the top of your spine for just a moment so that he can flick the flame of the lighter over the tiny pocket at the end of the pipe once again. 

Eddie drops the items in his hands to your bedside table carelessly once he's gotten a good lungful of smoke. He leans down in a faster movement this time than he had done before, his hand dipping back beneath your head in a flash to bring your mouths together again.

His lips are dry against your own, but so soft. You're not sure if it's the high or simply Eddie, but the barely-there scratch of stubble over his upper lip is delicious. It feels so good it makes you a little lightheaded. 

Your mouth slips open, inhaling as he exhales. You feel the warmth of the smoke entering your mouth, taste the bitterness of it on your tongue as the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

You're preparing to let your craned neck fall back to his lap, to close your lips in an effort to keep the smoke inside of your lungs — but then Eddie is tightening his grip on the back of your head incrementally, and instead of pulling back, he slots your lips together more firmly. Your heart skips in surprise and you can practically hear the blood pumping in your ears. Your brain seems to white out for a moment, unable to focus on anything that isn't Eddie's soft lips moving tentatively against your own. 

A thin cloud of smoke escapes into the air around you as your mouths begin to move together in synchrony. You can't hold back a soft gasp of surprise when Eddie's tongue swipes warmly across the seam of your lips. Your heart pounds, your mouth opening beneath his again without hesitation. 

The kiss that follows is a frenzied rush of lips and teeth and tongue. Hunger blossoms in the pit of your stomach. But it somehow manages to feel so languid, so sensual beneath the relaxed fogginess of your high. 

Your back arches, shoulders lifting from Eddie's thigh to meet him more than halfway. The movement prompts his hands to find your hips and Eddie is tugging you upright in a flash. Suddenly you're wedged between his legs, practically in his lap. Your knees curling around his waist as he leans farther into your space, chasing your warmth until barely any space exists between you. 

Your hands slide idly along his body in a slow trail. Each scrape against your palms feels divine. Every inch of him feels like silk under your fingers. The smooth, worn cotton of his tshirt. The tight ringlets of curls at the nape of his neck, a little damp with sweat. The soft give of warm muscle beneath your eager hands on his chest, his arms, his hips. You attempt to memorize every inch of him, your limbs seemingly moving of their own accord, touch-hungry and weightless all at once. 

He's so warm and- God, you want to be inside of him. You think you might want to bury yourself beneath his skin and make a home there. He smells like heaven, like sweat and weed and masculine body wash. Your fingertips drag leisurely along the length of his inked arms, inching slow back toward his neck like you have all the time in the world to explore every inch of his body. 

Your touch is scorching across his skin, overwhelming and seemingly everywhere at once but simultaneously not enough. It's like all of his wildest dreams have come to life, and Eddie can't fucking believe that this is happening. That you're practically in his lap, your tongue in his mouth, legs draped around his waist, hands tucked beneath the gaping sleeves of his muscle tee to roam freely and grope at the exposed skin of his hips.

Eddie's head cranes just a bit to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss, licking his way deeper. His own arms curl around your waist, tightening at the curve of your spine to tug your body flush against his. The action has a needy noise pushing its way into his mouth as your tongues explore one another with warm, wet licks. He groans at a particularly slow curl of your tongue, he swears he feels it in his fucking balls. 

He's so turned on he thinks his dick might explode. Eddie changes your position in another quick movement, holding you flush to his chest before he's directing you to lie back against the mattress and slotting himself right there  between your thighs. 

Despite the way your head has gone a little fuzzy from lack of oxygen, you can't find it in yourself to pull away from him. All you can do is slide your hands from Eddie's shoulders and up into his hair. Tingles shoot from your fingertips as they slide into his frizzy curls, yanking some of them free from his bun just to feel the way they tangle around your fingers. A hot flush of arousal pulses in your cunt at the satisfied noise that Eddie lets out when you tug lightly, and that noise alone has you suddenly frantic. 

You can't get enough of him; his sounds, his taste, the press of his warm body between your thighs.  

The hand he isn't using to support himself against the mattress rubs along your waist of its own accord, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to brush featherlight over your skin. You swear sparks erupt in his wake. 

You pull back just enough to murmur his name desperately against his lips, but the syllables are barely out before you're licking into his mouth again with unbridled hunger. Eddie's groan meets your ears in response to your weak plea — what you're begging for, you're not quite sure, but then his hips drop against yours with a slow roll and that- 

Oh, that is exactly what you needed.

You can't help the soft whimper that falls into his mouth. The warm line of his half-hard cock pressing against your cunt through the thin barrier of your pajama bottoms has you dizzy. Eddie grinds hips against yours in another slow roll, clothed erection pressing soft into your cunt and prompting the seam on your shorts to nudge at your clit. You both groan in sync, parted lips barely brushing through the breathless sounds.

You also can't help the way you lift your hips in time with each grind of his length against you. The warm weight of his balls squishes against the fabric of your shorts every time his pelvis drags over your own. The thin cotton feels far too thick of a barrier currently between you and his cock. 

Ringed fingers sneak up a little farther beneath your shirt, his hand tightening over your naked breast, and you keen at the feeling. He alternates between brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over your nipple and covering the area with his palm to give it a soft squeeze. His lips fall slack against your own, too busy focussing on the way his fingers release and then grope again and again, the kind of distracted intrigue that could only be a result of his high.

A soft whine falls from your lips after a minute of putting up with his lazy fondling. You tug at the hair between your fingers again and nip encouragingly at his lips in a silent plea for a kiss. His mouth finally resumes moving against your own, and you gratefully allow him to direct the kiss. You give him full control of the pace, which turns out to be a give and take of desperate licks into your mouth followed by gentle caresses of his spit-slick lips against your own. Lips smack each time you part, tongues sliding together wetly, heaving breaths rush in and out of your noses as you both attempt to pull as much oxygen in as humanly possible in an effort to not break apart.  

Your fingers find the knob of his spine, and you tug on the collar at the back of his shirt in silent question. Eddie answers by pushing back up on his knees to yank the fabric over his head in a quick movement. His tattooed chest heaves with slightly labored breaths and you watch him with rapt attention, your eyes drawn to the tiny patch of hair nestled between his pecs and lightly dusted around his nipples. Then your focus drops to the thicker trail that leads down into the waistband of his pants. The pale skin beneath the hair glistens with sweat, and good God you want to taste it-

But you're only granted a few seconds to ogle his torso before Eddie is dipping back down to catch your lips with his, your mouths immediately separating just enough that he can strip you of your own top. 

As soon as your naked chest is exposed to him, Eddie is dragging his lips down your body in a slow trail. He pauses for a moment to kiss a spot just below your ear, his voice raspy when he speaks, “You good? This alright?” He checks quietly. 

You reach up to tangle a hand in his hair again, a breathless sigh leaving your lips as you feel the warmth of his mouth pressing against your neck, “Good, yeah. Very, very alright.” 

Eddie wastes no time, his lips trailing lower. He leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses to your exposed breasts, relishing in the way you react to his mouth, the way your spine arches up from the mattress at the attention. 

“Jesus H. Christ. 's incredible,” Eddie mumbles, his words slurred against your chest as he bites and sucks at the skin on the side of your breast. His head has gone hazy with lust, his fingers slipping beneath your body to grab a desperate fistful of your ass, “Hand to God. I swear, I've never fuckin' seen more perfect-”

You interrupt the filth spewing from his mouth with an entirely unintentional moan, slightly overwhelmed by the influx of sensations. His praise in your ears. The feeling of his fingertips sinking into the plush of your ass. The prominent bulge in his bottoms dragging against you. 

Eddie curses under his breath, taking your nipple into his mouth and biting down softly before immediately soothing his tongue over it in apology.

Your brain is a little fuzzy. Sweetly faded and hazy at the edges, but somehow, each touch and sound between the two of you feels heightened — Magnified and all that more intense. As if your high has somehow managed to mute everything on earth except for Eddie. 

You release his hair in favor of sliding your hands down his back to grope the globes of his ass over his pajama bottoms while his hips continue to rock forward in a dizzying rhythm. A knead to the flesh there has Eddie whining sinfully against your tongue and your pussy fucking throbs in response.

"Baby," Eddie pants into your mouth, his voice nearly cracking with need, "Take 'em off, please- Baby? c'n we-?"

He doesn't finish the question but you nod, nose brushing against his as your hands slip underneath the waistband of his pants. Your fingers are very nearly trembling while you shove the fabric down below the curve of his ass. 

You feel the moment that his cock springs free and you immediately have to crane your neck down to take a peek — The urge to see him is too strong. And God is it a glorious sight. 

Flushed red at the tip and achingly hard— Jesus it's thick, gloriously thick. His pubes are dark and untamed around the base, hiding just how big he truly is. It's the most gorgeous cock you've ever fucking seen and it's bumping softly against the crotch of your shorts, wetting the fabric with smeared pre-cum that Eddie's fucking leaked over the head. He's wet with need, same as you, and the thought makes you feel fucking insane. 

Which means you ogle perhaps longer than you should. 

A needy grumble rises in Eddie's throat that has you snapping out of it suddenly and bringing a hand up into the narrow space between your faces. It takes a moment with the dryness of smoke lingering on your tongue, but you manage to gather enough spit to lick a wet stripe up your palm and fingers, and then you're reaching down to curl your fingers around him. 

Half-naked is practically Eddie's default state when he's stoned or drunk, you've drooled over just the outline of him in his underwear more times than you can count, but you're still somehow surprised by the sheer size of him in your hand. The weight of him. Long and curved just a little to the right — so silky and so soft under the slippery glide of your fist. You work your hand slow over him, rewarded with a beautiful little groan of thanks from the man above you, the sound of it guttural as you begin to jerk him with slick strokes. 

“Ohhh my god, that- that's, j-jesus-” His voice fucking cracks. 

Eddie's hips jump as he fucks into your fist. His eyes roll back, a little delirious just from the sight of your smaller hand wrapped around him. You switch from long strokes in favor of shorter ones where you can focus your attention on his tip, your thumb swiping back and forth over the head of his cock with each flick of your wrist. Eddie doesn't even recognize the sounds leaving his mouth. The combination of his high and the wet glide of your hand is too maddening to care. 

You make your own small noise of amazement that has Eddie coming back to himself suddenly. He yanks your shorts down your thighs with an impatient huff, pulling away from you just long enough to discard the last of both of your clothing before he's caging you back against the mattress once again. And then his lips are making their way to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly between these oh-so pretty little groans against your throat, his hips bucking restlessly into your own all the while. 

You give an eager cant of your hips, feet pressing into the mattress until the tip of Eddie's cock brushes the seam of your cunt. Eddie makes another sweet little noise of surprise that has you draping an arm around his neck, your face pressing into his shoulder as you repeat the movement with intention. 

You want him so bad your pussy fucking aches. 

“Ed, can we, please?” You whisper desperately into his skin. 

The question is barely out before he's nodding against your throat, bracing his knees and lining himself up with your hole. His hips push forward until just the tip of his cock presses into the wet heat of your cunt, but good lord-

He's so big. It feels a bit like he's splitting you right down the middle, but it's so good. He rocks his hips forward slowly, each little push stretching you wider than you thought possible. Every time you think he can't possibly have more to give you, he slips in a little deeper. He reaches so far inside of you that your eyes roll back, a long, drawn-out moan tearing past your lips at the slow stretch, the dull fullness behind your navel that you can nearly feel in your throat. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine breathlessly, hands scrambling for purchase along his skin. Your nails bite into the sweat-slick muscles of his back before slipping lower still. You find the dimples at the base of his spine, nails raking over the pale white skin of his hips and ass. Your whole body goes lax underneath him as the wiry bush of his pubes finally meets your own. 

The noise Eddie releases into the curve of your shoulder borders on a whimper, his breath hot against your skin as he rocks his hips forward again and again. His weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, his cock grinding desperately against the absolute deepest parts of you. He gasps with each nudge of your cervix against the head of his cock, practically humping you through the haze of his high as he tries to give you time to adjust to his size. 

“Y'good?” Eddie pants into your neck, words slurred together with need. He feels half a second from fucking begging when your legs spread further, your thighs falling back toward the mattress and allowing him even deeper and holy fucking shit. “Ohh, c'n I move?” He’s all but whining now, “Please. God, please can I-” 

“Uh huh, 'm good, 'm good, I-” Your assurances cut off with a wail when he begins to pull back and drive in again with a sharp snap of his hips. Your fingers tighten where his hairy thighs meet his ass, nails biting into taut muscle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Ohmygod.” You whine, eyes glazing over with the heat that pools behind your navel with each thrust.

“Y'feel so good.” Eddie mumbles, slack mouth pressed to the sensitive spot below your ear. 

He pushes up on his elbows, but only enough that you can gape up at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed with just how fucking good he feels. 

“Fuucck, y're pretty,” Eddie groans between deep thrusts, his words drawing a moan from your lips. He brings one hand to your cheek, thumb pushing into the plush cushion of your swollen lips before he's covering them with his own in a messy kiss, “Y're so hot. So. fucking. perfect.” 

His words are spoken quietly against your lips between thrusts, his nose squishing your own in close proximity, and you draw him back down to your mouth in a hungry kiss, teeth clashing. 

The pace Eddie has set is intoxicating, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips forward to fill you up again with deep thrusts. Your moans are loud, wanton and uncontrollable under the haze of your high, only somewhat muffled by Eddie's mouth covering yours. 

In a frenzy, you find yourself kissing away the sweat beading on his upper lip. You lave your tongue softly over the light prickle of stubble at his cupid’s bow, but you're only granted a moment to relish in the scratch of it before Eddie is nosing at your cheek and urging you back into a scorching, albeit distracted, kiss. His fingers wrap around your upper thigh to hitch your leg a little higher on his hip, rocking his hips forward again and managing to hit impossibly deeper inside of you. He drives into that spongey spot behind your navel and you writhe-

“Oh-” You gasp into his mouth in surprise, head gone fuzzy as he continues fucking your at the new angle, “Eddie!  I, fuck-” 

He responds with a groan. His lips leave yours to forge a trail of biting kisses over your skin. He wants to kiss you everywhere. He wishes he could kiss every inch of your skin and still keep fucking you. You're weak to do anything but lie there and take it and it makes Eddie feel dizzy with power. Your arms curl around his shoulders again, head thrown back against the bed in ecstasy. 

Eddie's mouth is seemingly everywhere, lips sucking at the underside of your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbones and throat, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. Each new sensation sends another spark of arousal down your spine, sends your brain farther into the clouds. 

It’s almost too much. It has you tightening your thighs around his hips and rolling sideways over the bed to switch positions, his cock slipping free as you find yourself straddling his waist with only a slight wobble from the momentum. Eddie makes a quiet noise of surprise and petulance, but it melts into a grateful, high-keening moan when you sink back down onto him. Your hips press flush to his as you set a new, slower rhythm of your own making. 

“Oh, Jesus,” Eddie whines in amazement, hands tracing over the curve of your waist and breasts as you rock back and forth onto him, “Shit. You look so good like this.” His praise comes out through heaving breaths.

You rest one hand supportively over the sparse hair at the center of his chest, the fingers of your other hand trailing up the skin of his arm until you can tangle your hands together against the mattress. You grind your hips down harder, deeper, and Eddie groans, his hips bucking up unconsciously to meet you halfway. 

Your forearms fall on either side of his head. Your weight pressing down against his chest has Eddie immediately fisting your ass and thighs in a bruising grip to help guide your movements. You lean down to bury your face in his neck as you slide back and forth along his length in a slow rhythm, your legs already aching with exertion even with the help of his strong arms.

The loud slapping of skin meeting skin every time the backs of your thighs meet his own rings loudly in your ears. Your staggered breathing falls against his lightly stubbled jaw, lips leaving distracted kisses in apology for the way your hot breath fans out against his already sweaty neck. 

“God, Eds,” You moan into his skin, sucking a mark against his throat while he uses his tight grip on your hips to fuck you down onto himself, “You feel. So f-fucking good-” 

You let out a yelp as Eddie twists your bodies again with a grunt, and suddenly his body above yours once more, his hand on your shoulder as he sinks back inside of you.

“Need it faster. Harder.” He pants, “That okay?” 

You nod, head rubbing against the mattress, “Yes. Please, yeah-” 

Eddie trails his fingers down the back of your thigh and guides you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s fucking into you in quick, punishing thrusts. Your moans only increase in volume at the change of pace, your whole body seemingly flushed with heat. Your hands scrape desperately over Eddie's back as he pounds into you, nails cutting into pale skin. 

“Shit,” Eddie groans, his forehead dropping down against yours in an unexpectedly tender movement, though it does little to take away from the sound of your bedframe creaking, the wet squelch every time he drives back into you. “God, 're you close?” He asks desperately.

“Uh-huh.” You confirm immediately, brain hazy and muscles tensing with each hard thrust that brings you closer and closer to your peak. 

Eddie's nose rubs soft along your cheekbone as he nods, joining your mouths in a kiss that's more breath and tongue than anything else. You struggle to focus on moving your mouth against his as your orgasm begins to creep into the corners of your vision. Eddie's weight drops down onto one elbow to allow him the stability to reach in between you. His hand settles over your pelvis, his fingers swiping messy over your clit as his quick thrusts grow shakier. 

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against your lips, “C'mon, I really-” He's cut off by the groan that rumbles up his throat when you pulse around him, the sound entirely animalistic. “Goddd. N-need you t' fuckin' cum, baby, please.” 

His voice has gone husky with arousal and exertion, the sound has your eyes rolling back. It only takes a handful more thrusts like that, with the help of his fingertips tracing light circles over your clit. Your whole body tenses as your orgasm crashes over you, legs clamping around his hips. You whine brokenly in his mouth, a sharp gasp immediately following as you scrape your fingers down his shoulders, your whole body shaking as you come undone around him. 

The increased tightness of your muscles spurs on Eddie’s own orgasm within a few thrusts, and then he's following you over the edge. He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a whine, hips stuttering twice before burying deep. His weight crushes you to the mattress, your back arching at the warmth of his release filling you. Your eyes water with the strength of your orgasm, Eddie's hips unconsciously grinding into your own as he rides out his own, whimpering into your ear with the aftershocks. 

You both remain unmoving for a long minute, sweaty chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath and come back to yourself. You card gently through Eddie's sweaty hair, his curls having long since broken free from the hair tie that had once held them back from his face. You fingers trail thoughtlessly through the damp tresses while Eddie's hot breath fans out over your neck. His dick twitches inside you when your fingertips scrape softly against his scalp and you struggle to bite back a quiet laugh of amusement. Your muscles tense even with the smothered laugh, and Eddie groans as your cunt pulses around him. 

He huffs when he catches the look on your face, entirely dramatic as he begins to roll away, but he only maintains that feigned annoyance for about half a second before he's cackling madly and dragging you into his chest. He nips sharply at your shoulder as he tugs you into his sweaty chest and buries his face in your hair, fingers beginning to trace soft shapes over the skin of your hip. 

“You feelin' okay?” He murmurs after a moment. 

“Yeah,” You confirm with a sigh, already relaxing into his touch. Your brain is pleasantly dulled from the combination of the lingering high and your orgasm. “Yeah, 'm great.” 

“Oh, same, yeah. Super great. I just, uh-” Eddie pauses and you find yourself focussing on the gentle caress of his fingers along your skin, “I wanted to check, y'know.. Make sure you weren't havin' any.. I dunno, just, regrets-”

You're readjusting in a flash so that you can look at him directly, your head settling onto his bicep as your eyes flick between his, “I don't. Regret it, I mean.” 

It feels much too serious of a conversation to be having considering how deliriously high you currently feel, the previous strenuous activity did little to clear your head, but you mean it with every fiber of your being. You've been hung up on Eddie for what feels like forever now, the thought of him outright regretting the events of the last hour- It has you feeling sick, stomach sinking and twisting and souring all at once.

Eddie's throat bobs as he swallows, “Just, I mean.. Y're real stoned and- Shit. I, fuck. I probably shouldn't've-”

“Eddie,” You cut him off, feeling desperate with the need to reassure him, “You smoked just as much as I did—probably more. I-I wanted this. I wanted it, like, really bad. Unless..” Your heart drops, “Do.. Do you regret-?”

“No!” Eddie disagrees immediately, and vehemently — With urgency to correct you. “No. No, sweetheart, I do not regret it. Could never regret you. I mean, that was- Shit, I've been wanting to do that since-”

Your hand finds the warmth of his chest, fingers scraping at the small tattoo there, “You have?” 

Eddie nods his head against the blankets, sweaty curls sticking up every which way around his head like a messy halo, “Yeah.” 

“Does that mean.. I mean, would you maybe wanna do it again sometime? But, like, when we're not high as all hell?” 

Eddie's dimpled grin has an embarrassingly wild burst of butterflies erupting inside of you, “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

You lay like that for a while, pressed together despite the heat. His fingers wander over your palms, tracing the lines there while you watch the way his rings shift. Your naked bodies separated only by a thin layer of sweat. The ceiling fan pushing light waves of blessedly cool air over your skin. 

After a few minutes Eddie suddenly tears himself out of your grip, and he does it so abruptly that your brain is hardly able to comprehend the loss of him. He lets out a quiet yelp of distress and nearly collapses face-first into the blankets in a mad scramble toward your legs. He manhandles you until you're sprawled on your back, pushing your thighs apart before flopping entirely ungracefully onto his belly in the narrow space he's made between them. 

As you push up onto your elbows to peer down at him, Eddie is simply stroking his fingers soft up and down the length of your cum-soaked folds. His eyes are alight with wonder while he watches his own spend begin to leak out. One of his thumbs catches it as it falls, and he pulls his hand back for just a moment to get a better look at the pearlescent mixture of your combined cum. 

“What're you doing?” You giggle after a long moment of simply watching him.

Eddie's head snaps up with such surprise it looks as if he might've forgotten you were even there, if such a thing were possible. 

“Just, uh.. Admiring my handiwork.” He grins like he's all-too pleased with himself, dimples poking into his cheeks. 

“It's our handiwork, actually,” You correct playfully, “Half of that's mine, and- No, wait. Actually, 's all mine now.” You tell him triumphantly.

His eyes narrow in confusion and you redirect your gaze pointedly. His attention follows your own, eyes flicking briefly toward his own hand, where the cum has begun to drip slow down his thumb toward the meat of his palm. 

“What, this?” He questions in amusement. 

“Yes that.” You tell him with a frown, “'s mine.” You have to bite back an honest-to-god cackle at the entirely contrived look of betrayal on his face. “Put it back.” You challenge. 

Eddie's eyes roll in irritation as he repeats your words mockingly, his voice thrown high in an exceptionally poor imitation of your own, but he does dutifully drop his hand down between your thighs again to attempt to push the cum back inside you. 

He looks pleased as punch once he's done. He looks at your cunt with a dopey grin on his face, cheeks still pink with exertion and hair wild. 

“Don't miss me too much, pretty. A'right? I'll be seein' you again real soon.” Eddie murmurs softly, eyes never once leaving your cunt. He punctates his words by pressing a gentle kiss to your mound, just a hair's breadth from your clit. 

And then that dumb, dazed smile takes over his face again. 

You squint down at him, “Was.. Were you talking to me or my-”

“Was talkin' to this pretty pussy.” Eddie says matter of factly, stroking his hand over the coarse hairs between your thighs in the way one might pet an animal. 

“Okay.” You manage, laughter preventing you from saying anything else. 

Eddie tugs a large chunk of loose curls across his face and lays his cheek to your upper thigh. He stays like that for a moment, hidden behind the curtain of his hair, big brown eyes blown about as wide as he can manage through his high.

 “..Do you still wanna fuck me?” 

He pouts. It's ridiculous. It's adorable.

You can't pretend to mull it over for more than a few seconds, your cheeks ache with the need to smile. He makes you so happy you feel borderline deranged. 

Your lips quirk up even as you sigh dramatically, “Regrettably? Yes.”  

He fucking cheers. 

He drums his hands enthusiastically against your thighs and yells so loud in victory that all you can do is laugh and cover your ears until he's finished. 

You don't regret it, not a goddamn bit.

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