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andvys · 1 month

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty five ⭐︎ Who could stay? You could stay

Warnings: none really, just a lot of fluff, a bittersweet ending, lots of love and tooth rotting sweetness

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve take another step and move into a whole new chapter.

Word count: 8.5k

Author's note: this is it, guys. this is the last chapter, all we got is an epilogue coming and thats it, the story is nearly over! It's been six months of dwoht!!!! six months of plotting and writing with @hellfire--cult ily roe, thank you for doing this with me ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

Moving boxes litter your entire house, some are in the hallway, the kitchen and the living room, some already emptied, some of them are still unopened, sealed with duct tape. Most boxes are in your bedroom though, yours and Steve’s bedroom.

David Bowie’s voice sounds through the speakers, the wind that blows through your open window touches your bare skin, you are only wearing a t-shirt of his, your hair is pulled up in a scrunchie that he picked out for you when you went shopping together, your knees dig into the soft carpet beneath you as you sort through his movie and comic collection, taking them out of the box and stacking them up on your shelf where you had already made space for him. You were honestly a little surprised to find the Captain America comic books in one of his drawers back at his house, he never mentioned them nor did you see him ever holding a comic book in his hand but apparently he only liked them when he was a kid and he grew out of his ‘nerdy’ phase when he turned thirteen. Sure. He told you not to pack them, he told you he doesn’t need them anymore but you saw the look in his eyes, the comfort that teenage boy got from getting lost in a world of superheroes, so you packed them into the box and now they’re finding home on your shelf, ready for him to reach whenever.

You don’t feel his eyes on you at this moment, you are too focused on the memories he packed, on the pictures you find next, of the teens, of Robin and Eddie, of his parents and some of his from his childhood, pictures of you.

Steve had never felt more at peace than he does now, standing in your now shared bedroom, he is sorting through his clothes, placing them on the hangers and into your closet, he is sneaking glances at you, wearing the biggest smile on his face. Your hair is falling out of the scrunchie, his shirt is riding up on your thighs, a soft look resides in your eyes and on your lips as you flip through the pictures he took to his new home. His heart skips strongly as he looks at you, he’s got everything he ever wanted, absolutely everything.

When you asked him to move in with you after only two weeks of dating, he didn’t waste a second to say ‘yes’, perhaps he even sounded a little too desperate when that word left his lips but he couldn’t help it. He hated to be away from you, even more so than before, when you weren’t dating yet. He didn’t want to spend a second without you, and neither did you. You clung to each other from the moment he asked you to be his girlfriend, not a single night was spent without the other. You ate breakfast, lunch and dinner together, you showered together and cuddled on the couch in front of the tv, every night. You never went to sleep without one another, so ‘why wait?’, you said before you asked him.

He had no trouble leaving his house, it was only ever home because of you and he felt more at home here than he ever did back there. He felt no sadness to leave it behind, only excitement and happiness to enter this chapter of your life together.

Steve looks at the polaroid camera next to your bed, feeling the urge to keep this moment not only in his memory but also in a picture. He places his yellow sweater into your closet before he makes his way over to the nightstand, he picks up the camera and turns it on, removing the cap leans, he tip toes closer to you and kneels down, squinting one eye shut as he aims the camera at you and he captures a perfect moment.

A look of surprise flashes in your features, your brows are pulled up, your lips parted as you stare at the notes in your hand, the notes that fell out of the little notebook that you can only assume to be from his days at school. You didn’t mean to open it or even look inside, it could be a diary, after all. But the notes fell out when you took it out of the box.

You blink, once, twice. You feel as though your eyes are betraying you as you read the words on the white paper. The ink is a little faded, but you can still see every letter clearly.

Your heart is skipping in your chest.

What are you looking at perv?

Your handwriting.

Your note.

You remember that day, you remember how you caught him staring at you, throughout the whole class, the hopeless girl in you was blushing but… the teenage you was annoyed, thinking that he was just messing with you, thinking that he somehow found out about your crush on him and decided to tease you, to play with you.

You put the note down on your lap and read the other.

Very funny, are you running out of girls to flirt with, King Steve?

You don’t even hear the clicking sound of the camera, you pay no mind to the flash going off either. You are too surprised by what you see as you keep flipping through the notes that he kept, the ones he kept for years, back when he didn’t even like you.

You flinch in surprise when you feel a pair of arms around your waist but quickly relax and melt into him, into his embrace, into his warm touch. Your lips curl into a smile when his own press soft kisses to your neck, whispering into your skin.

“King Steve was an idiot, wasn’t he? He couldn’t throw away these notes but still kept acting like a dick to you.”

The thought of him struggling to throw your notes into the trash, makes your chest swell with warmth.

You tilt your head back to face your boyfriend, you place the notes down and wrap your hand around his wrist.

“Did… you keep them on purpose?” You ask as for a moment, you thought that he might’ve forgotten them.

“I did, my heart just didn’t allow me to throw them away.”

You chuckle at his words and shake your head, “yeah, sure.”

“It’s true, honey!” He exclaims, squeezing your waist.

You flinch in surprise, a giggle falling from your lips as you hold his wrists tighter.

“It always knew who it belonged to.” He whispers with no humor in his voice, just genuine honesty, because it’s true, his heart knew, it always knew.

“You’re such a sap, Steve Harrington,” you say, though with nothing but a wide smile on your lips.

“Yeah, I’m your sap,” he grins, clinging tighter to your waist, he nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing you in and kissing you there, feeling his heart swelling in excitement, in love as he thinks of his future now, a future he thought he would only ever dream of, a future you both want, with one another. He will get to wake beside you every morning, with you in his arms, greeted by your soft touch, by your sweet kisses, he will get to sit at the breakfast table with you, write the grocery list with you while you enjoy your morning coffee, he will kiss you before leaving for work and he will come home, not to an empty house like he used to, no, he will come to you, his home.

You cup the side of his face when you tilt your head back, chasing his lips with your own, you both giggle when your noses bump together before your mouths touch and you both get lost in the sweet kiss you can never get enough of.

His feelings grow stronger and stronger, each passing second, they get bigger and brighter, evolving into something he never thought was even possible to feel, something bigger than love, something he can’t even describe with words, even if he tried to but he feels like the happiest man in the world – in the fucking universe.

He feels bonded to you, he belongs to you and you to him.

He pulls away from the kiss with an even bigger smile on his face than before, he caresses your cheek and looks into your eyes, “I think… no, I know,” he corrects himself, pressing his lips to yours once more, “you’re my soulmate.”

A soft giggle escapes you, you tilt your head to the side and move closer to him. Staring at the loving look in his hazel eyes, the relaxed and happy smile he now constantly wears.

“You really think–”

He cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, “I know so,” he whispers against your mouth, “my heart knows, I know.”

“Soulmates,” you whisper and wrap your arms around your boyfriend's neck, crawling into his lap, he happily pulls you tighter against him. “I love the sound of that.”

“I chose you.”

“Oh, did you?” You giggle. “We weren’t made for each other? You just chose me? That’s how it works?”

Steve squeezes your waist, moving one hand up your body, he cradles your face again and tucks your hair behind your ear, leaning in to kiss your cheek, “oh honey, I think we were made with each other, but I still chose you,” he whispers in confidence, though struggling to word his feelings, his beliefs correctly.

You gaze into his eyes, trying to make sense of his words, though your mind can follow, your heart understands.

“Well, I chose you back, Steve Harrington.”

He smiles and he can’t hold back from kissing you again, kissing the love of his life, kissing you until he can no longer breathe.

Neither of you heard the car pull up into your driveway, or the slam of the front door, or the loud ‘hello’. You are too caught up in each other, in the kiss, in the perfect touches.

“Guys?” Eddie’s voice sounds through the house, “I brought food!”

You are the first to pull away, giggling when he frowns at you and chases after your lips, pecking them once more.

“He brought food.”

“Mhmm, I’d rather eat something else right now,” he murmurs and trails his kisses down to your neck, holding your waist tighter when you try to move away.

Your stomach flips, skin growing warm beneath his hands and his lips, “l-later, Stevie…” You stutter, trying to control your breathing when his lips find that one spot.

“Guys, stop fucking or I swear to Ozzy, I’m gonna come upstairs and–”

“Alright, alright!” Your boyfriend yells out to him, chuckling, “we’re coming!”

“We so are coming,” you giggle into his ear, kissing his cheek before you pull away from him, amused by the groan that falls from his lips, “later.”

His hands fall from your waist as you stand up and walk over to your dresser to grab a pair of shorts to wear, not wanting to flash your best friend by accident.

Steve gets up as well, though his eyes never leave your form, they’re glued on your butt. He licks his lips as he watches you bend over, those silky pink panties look so perfect to rip off… later. He nearly groans again when you pull your black shorts over them. Coming up from behind, he grabs a handful of your ass, earning a squeal from you that only makes him grin when you look back at him.

“You’re obsessed,” you snort and swat his hand away weakly.

“With you? Yes, I am,” he smiles proudly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and starts leading you out into the hallway.

“No, with my ass.”

At that, he grabs your ass again, giving it a squeeze, “that too.”

Your giggle echoes through the hallway, and your best friend instantly looks up at the sound of that, standing in the middle of the chaos, surrounded by Steve’s boxes, with two bags of takeout and a confused frown on his face.

“Hey guys.”

“Hi Eds,” you smile at your best friend.

Steve greets him happily, a big smile resting on his face, Eddie isn’t sure if he has ever seen him like this but ever since you two started dating, Steve hasn’t stopped smiling and you are just the same, you’re basically skipping down the stairs, your eyes are shining, your skin is glowing, you are the happiest you have ever been.

You and Steve found each other.

Two pieces that always belonged together.

Two pieces that became one.

Eddie’s eyes move back to all the boxes in your hallway, the handwriting on them is unmistakably Steve’s.

“So uh, what’s all this?” He asks, he has an idea of what this is but a part of him believes that he is just mistaking something.

You and Steve glance at each other, eyes lighting up even more, lips curling into even bigger smiles. You bite your lip and turn back to Eddie.

“Steve is moving in!”

Eddie’s brown eyes grow wide, his lips part in surprise and he nearly drops both bags of takeout, he stares between you two with an expression on his face that nearly makes you both laugh.

He looks around again, catching a glimpse of Steve’s favorite armchair now standing in your living room, along with an opened box, a blanket falling out of it, the one that always decorated the big couch in the living room back at his house.

Clearly, you aren’t joking.

He squints his eyes as he looks back at the two of you, watching the way your boyfriend pulls you back into his chest, his arms slowly moving around your waist.

“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little too quickly?” He asks, looking between you both bewildered.

You and Steve turn to face one another, you both smile, gazing into each other’s eyes for a moment. His flash with… mischief as his hand begins to travel south, settling on your lower belly.

You both turn back to the metalhead.

“Nah,” you speak in unison.

Eddie blinks, eyes flicking back and forth between you and Steve.

“We uh… sort of cooked a little nugget… a little too soon,” Steve explains, biting back his laugh.

You press your lips together as you stare at your best friend. You place your hand over Steve’s and lean your head back on his shoulder, melting into him when he kisses your temple.

If Eddie’s eyes could grow any wider, they would. He blinks a few times before he closes his eyes completely, shaking his head, his curls bounce. He furrows his brows so strongly, he looks as though he is in pain. He opens his eyes again and takes a deep breath, he looks at your serious face, at his and then at Steve’s large hand covering your stomach protectively.

Little nugget.

You and Steve wait patiently for his reaction.

“Jesus Christ! You horny fuckers don’t know how to use protection!?” He exclaims, raising his arms up, the paper bags in his hands rustle. You’re surprised they didn’t rip yet with the way he is flailing his arms around. “A little nugget!? What the– I need to sit down.”

Steve snorts quietly, amused by the shock on his face.

“Oh, this is crazy,” Eddie sighs, like a shocked father whose teenage girl just revealed her accidental pregnancy.

You can no longer hold it in, bursting into laughter, you infect Steve with it too. His arms tighten around you as you laugh at your best friend.

Eddie’s eyebrows rise up now, his jaw dropping slightly as he finally catches on.

“You really fell for it,” you giggle, blinking back the tears of amusement.

“Can you blame me!?” Eddie nearly yells, pointing at you and Steve, “you’re at it like some goddamn rabbits! Besides, we all know about his breeding kink!”

Your giggles might not ever die down today, Steve’s red cheeks make this moment even better.

“Dude,” he groans.

“It’s true,” Eddie snorts as he relaxes again, coming down from the shock.

“It is,” you nod.

Eddie opens his mouth again, though his smile quickly falls and he scrunches his nose when he looks between you both, a smirk now pulling at Steve’s lips.

“Oh… okay, yeah uh, let’s change the topic,” he shakes his head again, holding up his hand as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Alright, well, there are no nuggets on the way yet, so you can relax.”

Eddie nods, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah, so uh… are you guys hungry?”

You look down at the bags in his hand, only now registering the smell of fries, your mouth waters and your stomach feels empty, all of a sudden.

You nod and open your mouth, but before you or Steve can respond, a knock on the door interrupts you.

Eddie turns to the door before he looks back at you, brown eyes flicking back and forth between yours and your boyfriends, “are you expecting anyone?” He asks, placing the takeout bags on the dresser.

You and Steve both shrug.

“Not really,” you mumble.

Eddie steps forward and opens the door, stepping aside to let you see who is standing on the other side.

“Oh, hello ladies,” Eddie grins, waving at the little girl in Max’s arms.

Your eyes light up in excitement, a warm smile graces your face when you see your niece who is babbling away, waving with her little arms and tugging at Max’s hair who doesn’t even flinch.

“Oh my god,” you nearly squeal, leaving your boyfriend’s embrace, you make your way over to the two girls, “hi! Come here, princess!” You grin, lifting your arms up, giggling when Francine squeaks at the sight of you, making grabby hands before you take her from Max’s arms.

“I missed you so much, Francis!” You whisper and tickle her side, kissing her chubby cheek.

Steve’s heart flutters, a sweet smile tugs at his lips, his cheeks turn rosy and he feels warm all over. Every time he sees you holding your niece, he can’t help but picture you with your own little family. He takes a few steps forward, wrapping his arm around you and taking Francine’s tiny hand, “hi angel,” he whispers, cooing at her when she gets jumpy in your arms, excited to see him. He tickles her belly, making the little girl giggle, “you got so much bigger since the last time!”

Max furrows her brows, not knowing about the day you and Steve babysat Francine together. She chuckles when your niece clasps her tiny hand around his finger.

“Hi guys!” Your sister finally catches up, walking into the house, car keys in one hand and pizza boxes in the other. She stops next to Max, and nudges her shoulder against hers, “I ran into Max downtown when I stopped by to get some pizza!” She explains, placing the boxes on the dresser next to Eddie’s takeout bags, “oh, you got takeout already.”

“Yep, I got some fries and burgers for Blondie and boyfriend over here,” Eddie grins teasingly, knowing that you haven’t introduced him as your boyfriend to her in person yet, you didn’t get the chance to until now, she only just came back from her vacation.

Max snickers at your flustered expression, her and Eddie share a look, both amused by the way you’re trying to hide your face in Steve’s chest which only prompts Francine to grab a handful of his shirt, making him chuckle.

“Oh right,” your sister grins, looking between you two as she makes her way over to you, already opening her arms so she can greet you properly.

Steve lets go of you but Francine doesn’t let him step away, she still holds his finger tightly, making both him and Eddie chuckle when she stares up at him with her big eyes, babbling away.

“She’s just like her auntie,” Eddie comments, laughing when you shoot him a playful glare over your sister’s shoulder.

“How are you, Daisy?” Your sister smiles, squeezing you tightly before pulling away.

You see the teasing look in her eyes when she glances at your boyfriend behind you.

“I’m good,” you reply, unable to do it without a smile, something that makes the look in your sister’s eyes soften because it’s the first genuine ‘I’m good’ that she heard from you in years. You always lied to her about your true feelings, never letting her in, never giving her the words she wanted to hear from you, you kept it all to yourself, not wanting to ‘share’ your misery with the people around you.

She never got through to you, no matter how hard she tried, she never succeeded, but the people in this room did – Eddie and Max did, they gave you back that smile that she missed seeing on your face, they broke you out of that little shell, you were so comfortable in for the past years.

And Steve, he… gave you everything.

You are more than just good. You are happy, happy in a way you have never been before. The walls around you have crumbled completely, the look in your eyes is one of love and contentment, your skin is glowing, your eyes are shining, you are just… happy.

“So… are you gonna introduce me to your boyfriend properly this time?” She teases, only having heard from you about it all on the phone.

Your cheeks grow hot, you know how long she had been waiting for this moment, always teasing and hoping for you to finally fall in love – as though you weren’t hopeless for years already, she was pointing out cute guys for you to date, not knowing that there was only one you had your eyes set on.

“Twinkie–”

“You know that’s not my name,” your sister interrupts you with a glare, making you and Max chuckle.

“Fine,” you snort, saying her real name this time as Steve wraps his arm back around you again, pulling you into him, he grins excitedly as he stretches his hand out to your sister, like it’s their first time meeting, like she didn’t walk in on you and him cuddling on your couch with baby Francine in his arms. She takes his hand with an amused smile.

Max and Eddie share a look, amused by this little introduction.

“That’s my boyfriend Steve,” you say with a giggle, feeling your heart burst with happiness. Francine squeals in your arms, like she’s happy to hear those words, as well, making everyone laugh in the room.

“Steve, that’s my sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Twinkie,” Steve chuckles, earning a glare from her.

You lean your head on his shoulder, adjusting your baby niece on your hip. Steve lets go of your sister’s hand and wraps his arm back around you again, kissing your temple.

“I meant to say that I will kick your ass if you hurt her but I think that Max might beat me to it.”

“You’re right,” Max nods at your sister, crossing her arms over her chest, she gives Steve a pointed look, “he’ll wake up in Billy’s car again if he ever does anything stupid.”

Steve’s eyes widen, he shakes his head at her, holding his hand up slightly with Francine’s hand still wrapped around his finger, “no way, Mayfield.”

Eddie smirks as he throws his arm around Max’s shoulder, grinning at the redhead, “don’t worry, Steve. She’s getting driving lessons from me now.”

You snort.

“That’s even worse, Munson,” Steve scoffs, pointing at Max, “a maniac getting driving lessons from another maniac? Yeah, no goddamn way, you’re getting driving lessons from me now.”

Eddie looks a little offended by his words, he places his hand over his heart, “I’m a good driver.”

“Yeah, besides I’m good enough to drive by myself, I don’t need an instructor, I watched and learned from Billy.”

“Great, another maniac,” Steve sighs.

Your sister laughs at the interaction, she looks around, finally noticing all the boxes though she doesn’t say anything, even as her brows furrow and a curious, confused look flashes in her eyes. It doesn’t take her long to figure out what this means, it’s obvious, even more so with the clear excitement in both yours and his eyes.

You look away from your friends and your boyfriend, drowning out the conversation as you look back at your sister, noticing the look in her eyes and the way she stares at the boxes. You grow a little nervous, not knowing what she thinks of this, what she will say about this but when she meets your eyes, she only shakes her head at you with a smile on her face.

She takes a step closer, placing her hand on her daughter's back as she leans in to whisper in your ear, “when you know you know, and you always knew.”

You nod with a smile on your face, feeling the heat of his body against yours, feeling his loving touch on your shoulder, feeling safe in his embrace.

“Yeah, I did.”

You knew it from the very start.

You were ruined for anyone else, before he even touched you.

And when his lips touched yours for the first time, you knew you were done for, you thought it was over for you, that you would never find happiness after that but now you’re here, he is here, he is all yours and sometimes you are still in disbelief about it all, no matter how many weeks have passed, you still can’t wrap your head around it all, about how lucky you are, just like him.

But there is someone else who is still in disbelief, Dustin. He was so convinced that you were dating Eddie, he just couldn’t understand how it all went by him that you and Steve had been a thing for months already, that you weren’t Eddie’s girl but Steve’s girl.

He is even more in shock now as he is in your living room, taking in the sight of Steve’s belongings in your house, all the moving boxes.

You invited all your friends over after the surprise visits you had already gotten, the amount of food Eddie and your sister brought was way too much anyways, so Steve made a call and invited all your friends over, well, most of them.

Argyle went back to California. Jonathan who declined both college acceptance offers to Lenora Hills Community college and Emerson, made his dream come true of going to NYU, after a long and honest talk with Nancy, they decided to follow their own dreams, but still sticking together, even with a distance between them. Boston and New York aren’t that far apart, after all.

So, after a little goodbye party at the hideout where Eddie and his band played, they all left Hawkins after a wild night filled with booze and weed – from both Argyle and Eddie.

Robin and Vickie went on a trip to Chicago before the latter leaves for College as well, but Robin knew all about Steve’s moving plans, he called her right away to tell her the news.

Everyone is entering a new chapter and this time, it’s all, only positive changes, only ones you all look forward to, ones that you don’t step into nervously and with uncertainty, no, for once, you are all at peace, you are all happy, all excited for the future.

Your living room is filled with friends, with family, it’s filled with laughter and smiles, something that has been lacking in the past few years. A house that was once just filled with sadness and a grayish glow, is now filled with life, the golden sun that shines inside, reflect the emotions in you now.

Steve who is sitting on the couch, is holding your niece in his arms, she is sitting on his lap, happily. Babbling and giggling more than she did before, she is waving her arms around, giggling louder every time he makes a funny face or tickles her belly.

Eddie sits beside him, cooing at the little girl every time a giggle escapes her, “oh, a fairy was born,” he tells her after each giggle from her.

Steve gives her tiny hand a kiss when she places it on his cheek, which only prompts her to laugh again.

“Oh, and another,” Eddie chuckles and taps her nose.

A loving smile stays on your lips as you watch your boyfriend with your niece, adoring the mesmerized look on his face. He chuckles every time she turns to Eddie and looks at him with her big eyes before she turns her attention back to him, squealing and waving her arms around.

Your sister sits beside you, looking stunned, “huh, he is a natural.”

“Mhmm, he is,” you nod.

Lucas and Dustin sit on the floor, bickering about something as always, while Max rolls her eyes at them every few seconds or so, cursing at them when Dustin throws one of the pillows at his friend.

“Hey!” Steve shakes his head at him, giving them a disapproving look, “stop that! How old are you two? Francine over here is maturer than you two,” he grumbles, gesturing to the little girl in his arms who looks back and forth between Dustin and Lucas with a curious look on her face.

Eddie chuckles beside him, nodding.

“You really got yourself a dad boyfriend,” your sister whispers into your ear, snickering as she sips on her coke.

You giggle and nod your head. You love this side of him and you love how he looks with a baby in his arms.

Steve catches you staring at him, and the scowl he previously looked at the teens with, quickly vanishes, a smile appears on his face and he tilts his head at you, beckoning you to him.

You put your drink down on the table, pushing aside your empty plate from before, you get up and make your way over to your boyfriend.

“Can I hold her?” Eddie asks, holding Francine’s tiny hand in his, smiling at the little girl.

“Oh, now you wanna hold her?” Your sister chuckles, teasing him. “Thought you were scared of babies, Eddie.”

“Only when they poop.”

“You are such a child, man.” Lucas snorts at him.

“Hey, you’re not the one who was chased down with a diaper full of poop!” He exclaims, glaring at Max who only giggles in response.

“You chased him down with a dirty diaper?” Lucas asks his girlfriend, who nods with a smirk on his face.

He starts laughing and raises his hand at her, high fiving his girlfriend.

Eddie shakes his head at the two, rolling his eyes before he looks back at Francine, reaching his hands out to her, she looks at him curiously, grasping his thumb, she holds it tightly.

“Come here, princess,” Eddie whispers as he carefully takes her from Steve’s hands, lifting her into his arms, he cradles the back of her head even though she doesn’t even need the support anymore. “Holy shit, she’s so light.”

“Language,” Steve glares at him as he relaxes back in his seat once Eddie leans back with her in his arms. The metalhead ignores him, too mesmerized by your niece in his arms, who stares up at him, curiously and with big eyes.

Your boyfriend reaches for your hand, not letting you sit beside him, he pulls you onto his lap instead, wrapping his arms around your waist, he takes you into his embrace, kissing your shoulder once you’re settled on top of him.

“Hey, keep it pg in here, there’s kids and a baby in this room,” your best friend teases your boyfriend, smirking at him.

“We’re not kids anymore,” Lucas scoffs.

“Yeah, bet Max and Lucas meet up at Skull Rock to kiss–”

“Dude!” “Dustin!”

Lucas and Max yell in unison, glaring at their friend with flustered faces, causing you all to laugh at them.

“It’s the truth,” Dustin smirks, shrugging – and that is how all the bickering starts again, though this time, Max joins.

Shaking your head at them, you turn away to watch your niece instead, laying your head on Steve’s shoulder, your heart flutters in your chest when he tightens his hold on you and kisses your temple, rubbing circles into your hip, he whispers the softest I love you into your ear.

“Oh my god,” your best friend whispers in awe, watching your niece falling asleep in his arms, tiny hand still gripping his finger, face nuzzled into his chest comfortably. Eddie looks around, shushing at the teens.

You and Steve look at each other in surprise, not even five minutes have passed since Eddie took Francine from Steve’s arms, and she is already fast asleep in his arms.

“Well now we know who can babysit her,” your sister jokes, also stunned by how fast she passed out in the metalheads arms.

“Yeah, and our future kids too,” you say without thinking, completely unaware of the feelings those words cause inside of Steve.

He blushes a deep red, warmth spreads inside of him and he shifts with you on his lap, gripping you tighter and clearing his throat when your best friend smirks at his reaction.

That shuts the teens up, their bickering coming to a stop the moment they realize what you just said, they all share a look before they turn to you and Steve.

While Lucas smirks and wiggles his brows at Steve, Max is giggling at his blushing cheeks but Dustin, he only raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, not in disapproval though.

He raises his hands up, closing his eyes for a moment, “you guys gotta give me a moment, I’m still trying to get used to this,” he wiggles his fingers between you both.

“What do you mean?” Your sister chuckles, cocking her head to the side.

Dustin blinks at her, gesturing to you once more, “them being a couple, I mean have you seen them before!? They were constantly at each other’s throats!”

“Yeah, cause Steve was an idiot,” Lucas laughs.

Steve gives him a pointed look, but doesn’t fight him on that, he calls himself that, all the time, for everything that happened between you in the past.

“I thought she was with Eddie!”

Your sister laughs with a confused look on her face, shaking her head, “why, because they’re always together?”

Steve rolls his eyes at Dustin, holding you a little tighter.

“Yeah! And like I said, they were always fighting!”

“Mhmm, and suddenly they didn’t, I wonder why,” Lucas smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you both again.

“He really wanted them together, by the way,” Max tells your sister, pointing her finger at her boyfriend.

“From day one,” he nods proudly, “and now they’re together, moving in together! I always knew what’s up. I mean, I always knew about Steve’s little crush on her, a guy just knows it.”

Dustin looks at him confused, he frowns and blinks at your boyfriend, staring at him for a long moment, he looks at you and then back at him before his eyes widen and he jumps up, “that is why you gave me the shittiest advice ever! You told me chicks dig it when guys are mean to them!”

“The key with girls is acting like you don’t care,” Lucas and Max mock him, giggling with each other.

Steve groans and throws his head back when you turn to face him with an amused smile, “wow, that’s some good advice, babe.”

“Well, it clearly worked,” Eddie snorts, glancing at you briefly as he adjusts Francine in his arms.

Dustin grins at Steve, “oh, that’s why you were so mean to her! Bet you expected her to fall at your feet but instead she was mean to you too! That’s why you didn’t stop there and just kept going because you wanted her attention – oh, now I understand!” He laughs, shaking his head as he stares in disbelief, like he uncovered something groundbreaking.

“You know what, Henderson?” Steve mumbles, straightening his back, he leans closer to you, pressing his chest against your back, he leans his chin on your shoulder, “you’re right.” He admits after a long pause, despite hating to boost that boy’s ego, he admits it.

He is right.

Steve was always infatuated with you, he just never wanted to admit it, not even to himself, not even when he kept those notes that you had found earlier. He ignored what he desired, who his heart desired, because that teenage boy in him, was too proud to admit that he liked someone who didn’t like him back but he also couldn’t fight those feelings, they irritated him, they made him mean.

So yeah, Dustin was right but so was Lucas.

And now they continue to tease him about it all, while you sit back and watch in amusement, enjoying the redness that covers your boyfriend's cheeks while he holds you in his arms and plays with your hands, toying with your ring finger the way he always does, he tries to hide the smile on his face but fails to do so when your eyes meet his and he sees the joy in them, the one that has been there since the night he confessed his love for you.

He loves you so much, he can’t even think of a moment when he didn’t – it’s impossible to think of one.

You adjust on top of him, turning and twisting your body until you can lay your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him, not caring about anything around you, about the vulnerability, the softness, the affectionate side of you, you’re displaying so casually – something you would have never done before.

Steve’s heart could burst at this very moment.

He knows how much you struggled to show your true feelings and emotions, how you hid from the world, for years. How you never let anyone see the real side of you, how closed up and sheltered you were, how you dug yourself a hole and stayed in there for the longest time, thinking that you were better off in hiding, thinking that you had to stay in the void forever, all alone, all by yourself, with fears and a feeling of deep sorrow, you just couldn’t let go of.

But through the darkness, through the pain that the upside down had brought you, had dragged you into, you found a family, just like he did.

Eddie stepped into your life, a best friend you never thought you would have again after you lost both Billy and Chrissy so tragically. You didn’t want to let him in, you feared that the curse upon you that you believed you had, would take him from you too, that it was only a matter of time until the darkness would drag him away from you as well, just like it had dragged away everyone else that you have loved. But he didn’t allow you to push him away, he didn’t let you believe for a second that any of what happened was your fault, he stuck to your side, from the day at skull rock, he stuck to your side in the upside down and after, he stayed, no matter how hard you tried to deny that bond between you, he stayed.

Max, the stubborn girl that refused to ever leave your side, who never once stepped away from you, who sees you as her big sister, just like Lucas. The two teens had to be forced out of your hospital room after what Jason did to you, they never left without a fight.

And through the darkness, through the worst days, you and Steve have found each other, through monsters and pain, through bloodshed and tears, you finally found your way to each other – neither of you are surrounded by sadness any longer, by emptiness and a longing for love you could only ever find in each other.

This room that was once filled with silence and sadness, an emptiness, a dark cloud that always hung over your home is now gone. You are no longer alone, you’re surrounded by people who decided that you are worth loving, worth staying for, you both are.

You have found home in each other, and you found a family.

That night, when you are back in your bedroom, you sit on your floor next to each other, surrounded by candlelight, two glasses of wine on each side of you, a bag of your favorite candy before you and a bunch of pictures all across your floor, surrounding the corkboard that lies on the carpet. Your TV is on but neither of you pay attention to the movie playing on the screen. The smell of fresh bed sheets lingers in the room, along with the scent of his and your body wash, your hair is still wet from your shower together.

Your giggles sound through the room as he laughs at the silly picture he took of Dustin earlier, unable to stop as he stares at the face the teen made.

“We’re definitely putting that picture up,” Steve snickers as he pins it to the corkboard – the corkboard that was his idea, to put up pictures of your favorite memories, of the people that mean the most to you.

“I think we’ll need a second corkboard,” you chuckle as you look at all the pictures that have taken up the entire space of the board.

“Yeah,” Steve smiles as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and looks down at the pictures on your lap, he reaches for the one of you and Eddie, that one was taken in his backyard, both yours and his eyes are bloodshot, lazy smiles are on your faces, your hair is wild and all over the place, Eddie is wearing two pigtails, his arm is thrown over your shoulder, a joint sticking between his fingers, Steve remembers that night, the way you all got drunk and high and played hide and seek in Eddie’s backyard, like a group of kids – it wasn’t long after you and Steve made your little arrangement. That night, he pulled you behind one of the high bushes and kissed you breathless while your friends were looking for you. He was the reason for your messy hair and your puffy lips.

Steve takes the picture with a grin on his face, taking up one of the last spots on the board, he pins it.

“Really? This one?” You question and tilt your head back to look at him, “why?”

“Cause you look adorable,” he whispers and leans in to peck your lips, “with your hair all messed up from my hands,” he murmurs against your mouth, kissing you once more.

“Making out in the bushes was definitely something,” you giggle, nuzzling your nose into his.

He cradles your cheeks and nods, smiling as he leans his forehead against yours. You sigh in contentment as his lips brush against yours, his warm touch sends sparks through your body, he is melting into you the way you melt into him. You look into his hazel eyes, into his loving gaze, a breathy, sweet chuckle escapes him before he closes his eyes and kisses you deeply.

Your lips move slowly against his, you savor every second of each kiss, you both do, even though you know you have the rest of your life to do this with each other. You taste the wine on his lips and the candy, you feel his protective, soft touch, his thumb caressing your cheek as his tongue slips past your lips, clashing against your own.

His heart flutters in his chest when you whimper into the kiss, when you throw your arms around his neck and press yourself against him, crawling into his lap with his help.

Steve holds you tightly, his hand travels to the back of your neck, running his fingers through your wet hair, he runs his fingers up and down your spine before he cradles your cheek again. His free hand pats the space around him, touching the carpet as he searches for the polaroid camera, sighing and moaning into the kiss when you press yourself tighter against him and deepen the kiss, running your fingers through his messy hair.

The flash of the camera doesn’t even make you flinch, it only makes you giggle as you pull away from your boyfriend, your eyes flashing with amusement when he opens his own and meets you with a grin.

“You’re so sneaky, Stevie,” you whisper as you glance at the polaroid camera in his hand.

Steve laughs and steals another kiss from you, he puts the camera down after you pick out the picture.

You look down at the still developing picture, waiting for the reveal. You press your lips together, sighing when he kisses your neck.

“I’m so happy, baby, I hope you know that,” Steve whispers against your skin, slipping his hand underneath your shirt as he hugs you against his chest. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He murmurs adoringly, the sight of your smile, of the joy in your eyes makes his heart swell so strongly.

Many months ago, he told you to get yourself a boyfriend and stop getting on his nerves — you don’t know why this moment flashes in your mind now, why this takes you back to that day at Family Video but the memory makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny?” Steve asks, amused.

“You told me to get myself a boyfriend… and I did.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side, he purses his lips as his hazel eyes gaze into yours, they widen and a huff leaves his mouth before he chuckles.

“Yeah, and I fucking love it, baby. I’m your boyfriend,” he says, proudly, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“Well, I love to be your girlfriend, Stevie.”

His heart will always flutter at these words, at the way you look at him, at the way you touch him, like he’s something perfect.

“You caught me,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours strongly, “and I caught you.”

You hold onto his neck, running your fingers through his hair, you refuse to look away from him.

“And I’m never letting you go,” he promises, “you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Your cheeks nearly hurt from how hard you’re smiling, and it only gets worse when he leans in to pepper your face in kisses, “my girlfriend.” Kiss. “My beautiful, gorgeous girl.” Kiss. “My future wife.” Kiss. “My stars.” Kiss. “My sun and my moon.” Kiss. “My whole galaxy.” Kiss.

You can’t stop giggling, your eyes tear up from all the laughter that falls from your lips and when you lean your head back, it only turns out to be a mistake when Steve latches his mouth onto your neck, tickling you with the stubble on his cheeks.

“Steve!”

His chuckles vibrate against you, he buries his face in your neck and breathes in your scent, “I’m so in love with you.”

He reminds you of that, all day, when he doesn’t whisper those words into your ear, he lets you feel it, with touches, with small gestures, leaving notes around the house or by waking you with coffee every morning when you’re not the one beating him to it.

Steve pushes you down on the carpet and crawls on top of you, pressing one hand on the carpet beneath you, he looks away from you for a moment, taking the fully developed polaroid picture, he smiles at it as he pins it into the middle of the corkboard.

You admire him, raising your hand to cup his cheek, you brush your fingers through his hair, it got so much longer but you love it like this, how it covers his forehead, how it curls on the nape of his neck, how messy it looks.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” He whispers as he reaches for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours, he looks down at you with loving eyes.

“I’m in love with you.”

These words always feel like a warm and comforting embrace. There is so much love that he holds in his heart for you, he can’t even put it into words just how strong it is, not even if he tried to.

You trace his features with your fingers, touching him softly and carefully, making him melt into your touch as a smile graces his face, he slowly leans in, closer and closer until your lips are brushing against each other.

“Forever?” He asks you, gazing into your starry eyes.

You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling when he presses himself against you, staring at you in a way that makes all your insides tingle.

“Forever and ever!” You grin before he slams his lips back on yours, kissing you deeply and feverishly, smiling happily against your lips as his hands make their way under your shirt while yours get lost in his hair.

“Forever and ever,” he murmurs against your lips, opening his eyes, they basically sparkle with stars. “My darling, forever and ever, I fucking love the sound of that.” He whispers and kisses your cheek. “I love you.”

You pinch his chin between your fingers and kiss his lips, smiling brightly at your man, the golden light in your room makes him look so ethereal. His hazel eyes shine so golden, his skin inviting your lips, his hands lay on your body so perfectly, like a touch of an angel, perhaps he is one, he is yours.

You went through the storm, the one you have always been so afraid of, you went through it, through the darkest of storms, through ones you didn’t even think existed and you didn’t come out unscathed, you were knocked off your feet and you were harmed, you took scars with you, on your body and in your heart but even through that, you came out alright – because he was always there, he always reached his hand out to you, he always waited on the other side, he was always there, even when you both didn’t realize just how close he always was, just how ready he always was to fight for you the way you always fought for him.

You both went through so much, you both suffered greatly.

But now you are here, with each other, where you both belong.

Steve leans his forehead against yours, he takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips, he kisses your ring finger, making that smile on your face bigger and brighter.

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you whisper back before you melt into each other, yet again. Getting lost in the kiss, one of endless to come.

Hell was the journey but it brought you both to heaven.

Hands tied,

♡

well, it's over, this is the end :') (actually there's still gonna be the epilogue so I'm gonna save my sappy comment for that one)

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @thecreelhouse @maroon-cardigan @corrodedcorpses @moon-flowerrs @munson-mjstan @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @agirlwholovesrockstars

#dwoht -- chapter twenty five #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #stranger things angst

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radioactiveparker · 6 months

Text

The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X Cheerleader!Reader (Mini Series)

Eddie Munson X Fem!Cheerleader!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Summary: Five high school students from different walks of life endure a Saturday detention under a power-hungry principal. Each has a chance to tell his or her story, making the others see them a little differently. And when the day ends, they question whether school will ever be the same. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

Series Warnings: Enemies to lovers / All Characters Are 18+ / Strong Language / Sex References / Mentions of Abuse (physical and emotional) / Cheating / Bad Relationships / Dysfunctional Families / Arguing / Materialism / Kleptomania / Stereotyping / Sexual Orientations / Drug Use / Mentions of Alcohol / Smoking / Pyromania and Fire / References to Demonianism and Satanism / References to Religious Beliefs / Social Alienation / Angst / Hurt-Comfort / Use of Y/N (like once or twice) / Eddie is a complete asshole

A/N: This mini series is set in its own little world, so it does not follow the Stranger Things timeline, and I have taken some creative liberties with most characters. Yes, they are all still in high school (final year and 18+), and yes, some of the events don't match up - just forget everything you knew about Stranger Things, it's easier that way haha.

“...And these children that you spit on as they try to change their worlds are immune to your consultations. They’re quite aware of what they’re going through...” - David Bowie

Masterlist: (completed)

Part One - These Children That You Spit On

Part Two - Low Tolerance For Dehydration

Part Three - Hallway Vision

Part Four - Hand Over The Purse

Part Five - Don't You Forget About Me

Taglist: @cruwushes @the-ch0sen-on3 @namelesshumanperson @ali-r3n @cadence73 @munsonssweets @ahoyyharrington @mewchiili @yourdailymemedelivery @httpsunflowers @b-irock @coolglittercornbae @sav12321 @cumslutforaemond @siriuslysmoking @learninglinesintherainn @peaches-roses-sins @lodeddiperrodrick @catherinnn @lilocapoca @minniedreamers @melaninjhs @chaosfrogsonfire @levylovegood @bowsforsienna @rcailleachcola @spookysace24

#the breakfast club #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson mini series #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson smut #enemies to lovers #eddie munson enemies to lovers #radioactiveparker #masterlist #radioactiveparker masterlist

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pearlprincess02 · 2 months

Text

1st house synastry playlist

mirrored vibes - 1st house synastry (playlist) / inner planets / asteroids

for when their jupiter is in your first house:

"good vibrations" - the beach boys / "happy" - pharrell williams / "ain't no mountain high enough" - marvin gaye & tammi terrell / "beautiful day" - U2 / "can't stop the feeling!" - justin timberlake /

for when your jupiter is in their first house:

"higher love" - steve winwood / "you raise me up" - josh groban / "firework" - katy perry / "can't hold us" - macklemore & ryan lewis / "hey soul sister" - train /

for when their saturn is in your first house:

"beautiful boy (darling boy)" - john lennon / "diamonds" - rihanna / "the scientist" - coldplay / "stronger (what doesn't kill you)" - kelly clarkson / "i will survive" - gloria gaynor /

for when your saturn is in their first house:

"the sound of silence" - simon & garfunkel / "say you won't let go" - james arthur / "someone you loved" - lewis capaldi / "best song ever" - one direction / "i'll stand by you" - the pretenders /

for when their uranus is in your first house:

"like a prayer" - madonna / "rebel yell" - billy idol / "electric feel" - mgmt / "blue suede shoes" - elvis presley / "don't stop believin'" - journey

for when your uranus is in their first house:

"power" - kanye west / "walking on sunshine" - katrina & the waves / "changes" - david bowie / "born this way" - lady gaga / "run the world (girls)" - beyoncé /

for when their neptune is in your first house:

"wish you were here" - pink floyd / "clair de lune" - claude debussy / "dreams" - fleetwood mac / "across the universe" - the beatles / "my immortal" - evanescence /

for when your neptune is in their first house:

"連れてって連れてって" - dreams come true / "what the world needs now is love" - andra day / "imagine" - john lennon / "somewhere over the rainbow" - judy garland / "chasing pavements" - adele /

for when their pluto is in your first house:

"before he cheats" - carrie underwood / "runnin' on empty" - jackson browne / "carry on wayward son" - kansas / "holocene" - bon iver / "decode" - paramore /

for when your pluto is in their first house:

"secret" - the pierces / "heartbreaker" - pat benatar / "higher love" - kygo & whitney houston / "gives you hell" - all time low / "story of us" - taylor swift /

@pearlprincess02

main masterlist

#1st house synastry #synastry #synastry overlays #my playlist #spotify playlist #concept playlist #playlist #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astro community #astrology observations #astro tumblr #astrology notes #astroblr #compatibility by zodiac #1st house #zodiac compatibility #astrology compatibility

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jasmines-library · 8 days

Note

Could u pls do a Winchester sister fic like (season 10 ep. 15) but instead of the parasite going into cole it goes into the sister and Dean tries to shock it out like in the episode but then she almost dies and they have to try and find another way

The Things They Carried

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Word Count: 2284 (wow look at me go)

Warnings: Uhhh not sure how to phrase it. Overall gore, kinda throwing up?

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

The woman had vanished without a trace. Well, at least at first. Her body was found strung upside down in the storage room of a remote part of the city Feyetteville, North Carolina. Perhaps one of the most perplexing parts of the victims disappearance, was that not only was she an Army Private, trained in Krav Maga and Jiu-Jitsu, but her organs had been drained, along with the bone marrow sucked out of her body. This is what had caught Dean’s attention. He now sat in front of you and Sam, the article pulled up on his ipad.

Sam raised his eyebrows, his forehead wrinkling as he studied the article once more before handing it off to you. “So…cannibalism. You thinking a Rugaru?”

“Or a God. Maybe.” Dean agreed. A second later he was up on his feet, ready to go. Sam tried to protest. Ever since Dean got the mark of Cain Sam has been solely focused on trying to find a way to remove it. He was constantly on edge and you had to admit you were too. It seemed that no amount of research seemed to give enough answers on the mark. Eventually, with a look from his older brother and a defeated sigh, Sam let up and not even 10 minutes later, the three of you were speeding down the road.

Much to your disappointment, when you arrived in the city the first thing the three of you were told was that the local police had closed the case. However, they had given you a name, and the incriminating evidence. The sheriff; an elderly man, perhaps late 60s with white, thinning hair, had also told you that the offender had also committed suicide before the feds could lock him up. He also told you that this was the third suicide the city had seen in the last 6 months. A pattern. This was definitely something supernatural, if that wasn’t already clear. However, when Sam asked about the body, the sheriff informed the three of you that there were no bite marks, and that the victim had been killed with a bowie knife. That ruled out a Rugaru, leaving your trail dry.

The next step of the hunt was to speak to Beth, the offender's widow. She was rather distraught as she bounced her baby softly in her arms. When she glanced away from it, you could see the pain in her eyes; the dark circles that rim them.

“Rick was a kind soul.” She insisted sadly, glancing down at the floor. The way she spoke of her late husband was filled with awe, but woven thick was pain that choked up her voice. You could tell that she still hadn’t processed her husband’s recent change in personality.

“Did you ever notice anything strange?” Sam asked gently, his fingers clasped together as he leaned against the countertop. “Violent mood swings?”

“Weird smells?” You added.

“No….” The woman frowned. “But Rick was- he was-” she stuttered, unable to word what she wanted to say correctly, almost as if she didn’t really believe it or understand it herself. “He was thirsty.”

You tilted your head at her, her words catching your interest. “Thirsty for what?”

Her answer surprised you. “Water. He’d spend half the day drinking from the garden hose. And then, when I told him to stop it was like he couldn’t even hear me. And his skin; it got so dry it bled.”

Your older brothers watched intently. “Did he see a doctor?” Dean questioned gruffly.

The poor woman shook her head. There were now soft tears rolling down her face, mingling with the ghosts of the ones there before. “He just got put on a list to be put on a list. And then he stopped talking. He just wasn't himself–” she sniffled, shifting her baby in her arms. “I thought….maybe it was just PTSD.”

No one said anything for a moment before you broke the silence tenderly. “We’re very sorry.”

“You said that Rick had been recently deployed.” Dean said. “Do you have any idea where?”

“No.” She answered rather bluntly. “That stuff’s classified. They don’t even let the wives in on it.”

And the trail runs cold again.

But then, just as you were about to leave and Sam left your number, Beth stopped you again.

“There’s one other thing.” she added. “I ran into my friend Jemma at the supermarket. She’s married to Kit Verson. A guy from Rick’s team. She thinks Kit came back different this time. Kind of felt like we were dealing with the same thing.”

The trail picks up again.

After a little while running around after Kit Verson, discovering that he murdered someone else the same way that his friend did, the three of you ended up in an old shack that his wife believed he might have fled to. It was dark. Eerily so. However not as eerie as the trail of dead mice on the floor. Machetties in hand and guns in holsters, the three of your crept through the darkness of the hut. You found him hunched over in the back room of the house. His breathing was rough and ragged as though he might have run a mile at top speed. When you reached out to touch his shoulder, his head whipped around, bloodshot eyes boring into you. His mouth and face was splattered with blood and dirt, and his movements were erratic as he stood up to face you. He gripped you tight, cold fingers like icicles against your skin as he pushed you back against the wall. And then his eyes were pleading with you. The harsh crease between his eyebrows softened for just a moment as he used his body weight to keep you pinned up against the wood panelling.

“I’m sorry,” he grunted out, wrestling with you to keep you in his grasp. “I can’t stop.”

And then, you were on the floor, dirty ground rising to meet you fast as he made you lose your footing. And then, as you struggled beneath him he made this awful gagging noise as the creature slithered out of his throat and forced its way into you. You coughed, gagging yourself as your brothers rushed into the room. They were on Kit in seconds, but he was strong, throwing your brothers around before dashing out of the door. Quick on his feet, Dean followed, leaving you staggering for breath on the floor with Sam.

“Are you alright?!” Sam asked, alarmed as he rushed to your side, helping you up off the floor.

You coughed. “Some-something’s inside of me–” a grimace spread across your face as you felt it move. “It’s alive–”

“It what?” Sam blinked. “What did it look like? Do you know what it was?”

“Khan worm.” Dean answered, catching on to the end of the conversation. “At Least i think it is. Why? Did you see it?”

You groaned in pain, so Sam answered for you. “It crawled inside her.”

Dean froze, his eyes going wide. “What?”

Sam nodded grimly.

“Did you see what it was? Dean asked worriedly.

You coughed, hands flying to your mouth. “Khan worm.”

“Shit.” Dean cursed aloud, running his hands through his hair.

“We have two options.” You said, trying to hide the grimace on your face as you felt the worm moving, ,crawling under your skin. Neither of the two options were very pleasant at all. You and your brothers had worked a case with Khan worms a few years ago and there were two ways that you discovered the worms could be killed. And while these worms seemed slightly different to the first ones you discovered, you figured that they were similar enough that the same rules would apply. The first option was probably the most forward one, but it also involved certain death; a headshot to the infected person that would cause the worm to flee the body where it would then be crushed by Sam or Dean. Option one was very clearly off the table. The second was far more painful, but it also harboured greater chances of survival.

Dean began to protest immediately. “No. No no. there’s got to be another way.”

“You know we dont-”

“Kid….” Sam started.

“Just do it. We have no other choice.”

Dean sighed, turning away and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright.”

Dean had managed to find two batteries hidden in the small cabin. He placed them grimly on the table with a thud before connecting two of the jump wires that Sam had gone and collected from Baby’s trunk. You were sitting in the armchair, fingers gripping the leather as you waited anxiously. Sam tried to give you some comforting words, but you weren’t sure who he was trying to comfort more; you or himself.

“Alright.” Dean said, his voice laced thick with an anxiousness and guilt he was yet to shake. He brought the cables over to you as you took a deep breath, placing a wooden spoon between your mouth to keep you from biting through your tongue.

Settling back in the chair, you took a moment to collect yourself. To prepare for the agony you were about to put yourself through. And then, you gave him a brief nod

The sudden pain when Dean pressed the jump cables to your skin was overwhelming. Unbearable. A million agonies all combined to one as the electricity raced through your veins. You screamed, crying out as your teeth bit down on the wood of the spoon, which helped to muffle the sound. Both of your brothers winced at the sound of your agony as you twisted and writhed. Sam had to look away and Dean had to force himself to keep the cables against your skin though he yearned to take away your pain. But nothing happened. As soon as your brother removed the cables, you were panting for breath, trying to recover quickly from the pain. You couldn’t help but notice the looks on your brother’s faces.

“Anything?”

Sam shook his head dismally. The parasite was still in you.

“Go again.”

Dean startled. “What? Are you crazy?”

“Go again.” You strained.

Dean collected himself, and then; the same pain. But still as you writhed. Fists clenching and nails digging into your palms the worm remained inside you. And your brothers were growing increasingly concerned. Your movements began to slow as you grew quieter and your eyes fluttered, drooping with a sudden heaviness. Dean pulled the cables away immediately and you slumped back against the chair. Your head lolled forwards against your chest and your breathing was concerningly slow and laboured.

“Okay….okay…” Sam said gently, slipping an arm behind your back to help support you.You whimpered slightly at the movement. “ Shh. You’re alright sweetheart.” he glanced up at Dean, fear and worry evident in the creases on his forehead. They would have to find a different way to get the worm out.

You were sweating. Gods….you’d never been hotter. Your body still ached as you sat in the armchair of the cabin. The old leather was flaking off and was practically covered in a sheen of your own sweat. Sam and Dean had pushed it towards the fire, leaving you to sweat against the heat. They had figured that as the parasite needed water, if they could make you sweat it all out…then the creature would leave. But now you were practically slumped in a chair, dark veins crawling up your neck as you tried to rid the worm from your body. You coughed a little, your throat dry, with no way to soothe it. Thirst…..that was the only thing that consumed your mind…you were so. damn. thirsty. Your body craved it. Anything you could get you would take….even your own brothers’ blood. The parasite yearned for something. You could feel it, squirming around inside you. Uncomfortable, you whined before coughing a little, doubling over on yourself.

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder. “Hang in there, Sweetheart. You have to sweat it out.”

“Can’t–” You coughed.

“Yes you can.” Dean shut you down quickly. “You can’t give up. Winchesters don’t quit.”

Reluctantly, you nodded. Your head spun. You felt sick. But you knew you couldn’t give up. You were in for a long waiting game.

It wasn’t until a few hours later, when you were on the verge of breaking down that you began to feel it slithering up your throat. You gagged, coughing as you tried to expel the creature from your body.

Sam and Dean were by your side in seconds, both trying to coax you through it, ready to stomp on the worm as soon as it made an appearance. Sure enough you managed to cough it up uncomfortably. It splattered on the floor, squealing as it writhed and trying to slither off to infect someone else. It didn’t make it far before Dean slammed a heavy boot over it. And once more for good measure. It squelched under his shoe, peeling off from it as it stuck to the floor. He grimaced at the sight before moving to crouch beside you, checking on you.

You wiped the string of saliva from your mouth with a grimace before gratefully taking the water bottle Sam offered you and wasting no time before drinking it to quench your impossible thirst.

“That's it. Easy, Sweetheart.” Dean cooed. “It’s over now.”

“You did it, kiddo.” Sam said, guiding you to lean back in the chair more. “We knew you could do it. We’re proud of you.”

(A bit of a rubbish ending! I'm sorry i wasn't sure what to do)

⛤⋅•⋅∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

SPN TAGS:

@xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale @harleycao @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @rosecentury

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

#supernatural x reader #spn #spn x reader #supernatural #supernatural x sister reader #spn x sister reader #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x sister reader #supernatural fanfiction

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year

Note

Listen, i have way more Peter Quill ideas if you’ll allow me-

Can we get one where the reader is super horny for Peter but she doesn’t really want to say anything because they keep getting interrupted by the other guardians (like Mantis, Rocket or Groot needing something) and it happens multiple times until the reader just pushes Peter aside and they start making out. 😂

It can be full smut or just end wherever you want it I’m not picky…but i wouldn’t turn down smut👀 it can also be gender neutral i don’t care, thanks Love! 💖

~Bear🐻

hii again sweetheart!! of course, send them in at anytime:) love love it, I was nice I wrote smut🤭 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

storage room rendezvous

Peter Quill x f reader

wc || 1.3k

warnings || 18+ only sexually explicit content minors dni

masterlist + rules

taglist

Being confined to the Bowie during long-haul missions often meant there wasn't much space or privacy, never having the luxury of a moment's silence without getting interrupted by one of the other guardians. You and Peter had recently started dating, so the amount of need you had for him was unbearable. You wanted him all the time.

Rocket had to do an emergency landing on some random planet, twenty-something jump points away from Knowhere so he could tinker. So that left you and the rest of the crew stranded on the ship until the issue resolved.

Waltzing your way over to the front of the ship, hands cutely laced together as you joined Quill in the captain seat, sitting across his lap. "Whatcha doing?" you question, making yourself comfortable.

"Taking my seat before Rocket gets back," he chuckles, placing his hand on your thigh, adjusting you as he pulls you closer. "He ain't gonna like it," grinning at the thought. "What's up?" he asks, kissing your shoulder.

"Bored," you say slowly, your tone speckled with suggestion.

"Bored, huh?" he repeats, his tone matching yours. "What'd ya wanna do?" he asks, already knowing what you're thinking, waiting for you to admit it.

"I did have one idea..." you hint, lightly trailing down his chest. "Oh, god!" you jump, lowering your face to the nape of Peter's neck. "Don't do that."

"What?" Quill questions, his eyes concerned as he follows your initial gaze. "God, Drax. How long you been there?"

"Since we landed," Drax responds matter-of-factly, pulling a rustly bag from his pocket.

"That was an hour ago." You chime in, poking your head up to look at him.

Shrugging simply. "Yeah... Zarg-Nut?" He offers, shaking the bag between you both.

Quill extends his hand over the back of the seat, cupping his palm towards Drax. "What?" he chuckles at your displeased expression, shoving a handful of the dried snack into his mouth. "I'm hungry."

"You are unbelievable," you playfully scoff, avoiding his green eyes.

"Hi, guys." The soft voice of Mantis appears next to Drax. "Oh, can I have one?" She asks, nodding to the bag in his hand.

"They're all gone," Drax replies before pouring the contents into his mouth.

"I am Groot."

"Okay!" you say finally, clapping your hands together once. You loosen from Peter's grip as you stand up, lacing your hand into his as you lead him away from the group. "Come with me."

"Where we going?" Quill questions, following after you, his hand gripped into yours.

"Shut up," you whisper, leading him through the corridors as you search for a suitable storage room.

"You want me, don't ya?" he smugly asks, briskly walking to catch up with your long strides.

Poking your head through door gaps. "Yeah, now shut-up,"

He playfully chuckles, his tone full of assurance. "Knew it," snickering.

"Here's one," you mouth, dragging Peter into the empty room, forcefully shutting the door behind him.

You immediately attach your lips to his, ravenous and starved, desperately tugging at his t-shirt. He separates, his head hung low as he assesses your eyes. "Whoa, whoa, whoa... ain't even locked the door." He smirks, reaching behind to twist the lock.

Quill loved when you needed him, loved seeing you desperate. He loved when you were verbal, telling him what you wanted, but not right now. He wanted the control and leadership he craved.

He lightly trails his hand up your throat, grazing higher before cupping around your jaw, grasping the side of your face to bring you in. He instantly clashes his hungry mouth with yours, rolling and licking over your soft lips while his other hand travels behind your head to pull you closer. The need grows more urgent as his hands roam you, loosening the grip on your jaw to travel down to your throat. He holds it as he controls and deepens the kiss, pushing you back up and against the wall.

"What do you want?" he breathlessly asks against your lips, a wry grin looming.

"You," you shakily reply, snaking your hands around his back, gripping the hem of his tee.

"Yeah?" he softy whispers, entertaining you.

He slips his hand under your ass, cupping over the cheeks as he manhandles you, eagerly kneading the doughy flesh between his fingers.

Sliding his palms up, they rest and clasp around your waist, kissing you in desperation as he squeezes you, grinding his clothed groin into yours.

He picks you up, holding you under your thighs as he walks you over to the stacked storage containers in the corner, placing you down atop them. His fingers snake into your waistband, immediately palming over your wet pussy, teasing your clit as his spare hand slides into his waistband. Lightly gripping his hardened cock and pulling himself out of his pants, firmly stroking up the length.

You eagerly squirm out of your pants, letting them slide down your thighs and hang around your boots, draping from your ankles as you wrap your knees around his hips, bringing him closer. He yanks down his pants and boxers before sliding his tip through your folds, collecting your arousal around his shaft. "Fuck," he mutters at the contact, momentarily throwing his neck back.

He spits in his palm, rubbing the saliva over his veins to lube himself up as he adjusts you, bringing your hips forward. He pushes his head through your folds, slipping through the slick flesh as you both watch in anticipation. Needy whimpers fill the dingy room.

Gripping at his base, he eases into you. Slowly sliding his tip in as he attaches his mouth to yours, catching and muffling your initial moan. His hands graze up your back, holding you close as he sinks further into you, melting around his every inch. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, whining and mumbling against his warm skin as you adjust to his girth, clutching at his biceps. "Oh, God," muttering, his eyes screwing shut.

He kisses the side of your neck, lightly nibbling and suckling the skin as he slides in and out of you, moulding around him as he fucks into you. Completely filling you with every hasty wind of his hips, rolling into you as he chases after the high.

He grows desperate and demanding as he pushes into you. Massaging inside you, rubbing over your g-spot with the upper side of his cock, fucking into the areas you needed. He finally attaches his lips to yours, swallowing your open moans and whimpers as he groans into your mouth. Slipping in his tongue every once in a while.

You felt the overwhelming build of the high consume you, aimlessly whining against his lips as you felt yourself get closer. You convulse around him, sucking him in further in with every jolt.

"Can I come in you?" he shakily asks, resting his forehead against yours. "Please- fuck," he mutters, closing his eyes like he's holding himself off.

You eagerly nod, wrapping your legs tighter around him, crossing your ankles as you keep him glued to you. Desperately clawing at his back as you let go. Quill pulsates for the final time before spilling his load deep into you, senselessly whimpering in one another's mouth as you both reach your long-awaited release. The room full of hot shaky moans.

He gingerly drags himself from you, watching the connecting strings of his cum as he pulls out. He bends to the floor, pulling up his pants before doing the same with yours, holding your hand as he helps you down from the containers. Keeping you balanced, chuckling at your stumbly footing.

"I'll uh... I'll, um," you stutter, momentarily closing your eyes as you think of the words. "I'll join you out there in a few minutes... don't make it obvious," you grin, reaching up to kiss him tenderly, playfully slapping his ass as he turns away.

Turning around with a faux displeased expression, head cocking. "I'll tell 'em," he warns with a raised brow and boyish smirk. "Don't think I won't..." teasing you.

Grinning with raised hands as if to symbolise your innocence. "I'll see you in two minutes... Quial."

#peter quill #peter quill x female reader #peter quill x reader #peter quill x you #peter quill x fem!reader #star lord #star lord x reader #starlord x you #starlord x reader #guardians of the galaxy #gotg fanfiction #gotg #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill fanfic #peter quill imagines #peter quill smut

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eddiesghxst · 8 months

Text

PRICE OF FAME (PART 12/12)

AHHH !! friends, we've come to the end of my first fully done series, and she's not perfect in a lot of ways but she's mine and I'm so happy and thankful to have shared it with you lovely folks

i hope I've done them justice, enjoy <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you decide to visit eddie for a chat

contains: enemies to lovers trope, drug and alcohol use, smut, oral (m receiving), mentions of anal, mentions of death (readers relative), sexual themes, angst, heavy mutual pining, fluff, and eddie being so head over heels that it's hot <3

word count: 10.6k

| previous part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

“So, from the new album— Wasting Love.”

Over time, Eddie’s learned that he can’t stand interviews— especially interviews with questions aimed towards nothing but tabloid gossip and headlines. The first big interview that Corroded Coffin booked was exciting because— well, it was their first one! Maybe the questions weren’t as intricate and thought-out as the ones they gave David Bowie on TV, but it was something.

That excitement wore off quickly, though, and unfortunately, interviews are one of the top ways to spread publicity so— “Wasting love,” Eddie huffs, tipping his hips forward as he shifts on the couch. He’s bored out of his mind, aching to leave and be done with the shitty questions about his love life or the people he hangs around or whatever. He taps the heel of his foot into the ground, lips twisting as he chews at the inside of his cheek, “What about it, man?” Eddie asks.

The rest of the band is in the fucking clouds— why would they answer a question about a song entirely unrelated to them? Plus, Eddie’s 99.9% sure they did a few lines without him, which, fucking assholes.

The interviewer shrugs, “Well, why didn’t it make it to the final cut? And what’s it about? Tell us more about that track.”

What a bullshit fucking question.

Wasting Love is one of the most, if not the most, straightforward songs Eddie’s ever fucking written. The only reason why he’s asking about this is because, well, there’s been rumors of Eddie and his most recent love affair— none of which are true, but Eddie doesn’t bother to come out and tell the truth because what’s the point? What’s the point in telling the truth if it will get twisted anyway?

Either way, Eddie shrugs, blinking behind his dark sunglasses, “I mean…” He purses his lips and tips his head side to side as if thinking, “Kinda self-explanatory with the lyrics, man.” He finally responds.

And in the background, Eddie can see Richie practically constructing his next ‘I know you hate it, but it’s good publicity’ lecture. So, Eddie relents— “It’s about… meaningless sex basically. And it didn’t make the cut because it was a shitty song.”

It wasn’t, actually, Eddie thinks it was a great fucking song, but the intentions behind it— not quite so.

“I think the fans would disagree on that.” The interviewer jokes.

Jeff takes a deep breath and shifts in his seat, “I mean, part of it was because it just didn’t flow with the essence of the album.” He adds, and Eddie mentally thanks him for taking over and so easily diverting the topic to something else. For the rest of the interview, Eddie’s mind is elsewhere, thinking about everything outside of this room, thinking about what he’ll eat later, thinking about the show tonight, thinking about you.

Yeah, you haven’t left his fucking mind in the past six months you’ve been apart from one another. It’s been six months, and Corroded Coffin has released two albums and started their second leg of tour since he last saw you— and you’re still all he thinks about.

You’re still in his dreams, still dancing behind his eyelids when he shuts his eyes, still vomiting all over his fucking journal when he writes. It’s madness, really. Eddie can’t remember the last time he was this hung up on someone— he wasn’t even this distraught when Chrissy left him.

Sure when he and Chrissy ended, he wallowed in it for a month or two, but it wasn’t long before he got fixed on uppers and groupies. Chrissy was heartbreaking in the sense that she was his first love, his first real relationship— but this… this is different. Eddie doesn’t know why it’s different, can’t really pinpoint where the colors change, and the memories start to jab at his chest differently, but he feels it.

He feels it when he’s sitting backstage before a show, feels it when he steps into a new hotel room every night, feels it when he’s ruffling through his suitcase and comes across that journal that’s been haunting him for ages now, and he definitely feels it when he reads the fifth page in the Rolling Stone magazine where the description of Eddie resides, the one where you’d crafted and molded Eddie into a shape he’d never been able to see before, the one where Eddie first came to terms with the true sight of you and your intentions.

Yeah, it’s fucking bullshit, Eddie thinks.

He doesn’t know how he ended up in this predicament, but by god, he would never fucking recommend it because— fuck, you won’t even talk to him!

And sure, you don’t owe Eddie anything, you don’t owe him a call or a chance to visit or anything of the sort, but Eddie was holding onto that sliver of hope you gave him before you left.

He asks about you when he can, because, unbeknownst to you, Eddie’s quite familiar with your boss, Anna, and she’s like an annoying older sister to him. Anna tells Eddie how much of an idiot he is occasionally, but she always cracks and tells Eddie that you’ve been good and how you sometimes mention him, but it’s always quick, and nobody ever has room to pry about it. And when Anna tells Eddie about how you crossed paths backstage with a certain red-headed girl and read her to filth, Eddie chuckles and mumbles something along the lines of, “That’s my girl.”

Anna nearly gagged then.

Still, Eddie only catches glimpses and whispers of you, never really getting the full fix to last him a day, but it’s enough to keep him alive and wanting.

“Maybe she doesn’t get your calls, man.” Gareth shrugs, leaning into the mirror as he ruffles his hair. It’s been hours since the interview now, and showtime is in… Eddie doesn’t know when because he didn’t listen when Richie was rambling on about tonight’s schedule.

“She gets my calls, dude; Anna said she does,” Eddie grumbles.

“Okay, well, then maybe she’s just, like, over it. I don’t blame her; you're a pain in the ass.”

Eddie kicks his boot into Gareth’s shin, and the boy hisses, tossing a red Rillos wrapper at him. “Ow, asshole. It’s not my fault she hates your music.” He snips. Eddie makes a face, “It’s your music too, dumbass.”

Gareth scoffs, “Yeah, but you wrote an entire fucking album about her. Our album is literally about her, you know that, right?” And Eddie thinks he should just kick Gareth’s teeth in at this point, maybe that’ll get him to shut up. “How would you know it’s about her if I never told you it was?” Eddie prods.

Gareth rolls his eyes, dark eyeliner casting a shadow on his face as he turns to glare at his friend. “Is there another chick you’ve been fucking that’s got you by the balls that we seem to have forgotten about?” Gareth sarcastically asks. Eddie glares at him, reaching for the cigarettes on the vanity table and sparking up.

He speaks around a cloud of smoke when he answers, “No.”

Gareth makes a face, eyebrows raising in an ‘I rest my case' manner. “And she’s not a chick,” Eddie adds.

Gareth hums with a tight grin, reaching out to poke at his friend's face, causing Eddie to grimace and bat him away, “You’re in love, Munson. Fix it or get over it,” He says shortly before making his way toward the door. Eddie can hear the dull scream of fans when Gareth opens the door, and Eddie thinks about the tickets he’s sent you every show— prays to whatever false god there is that you decided tonight is the night before he decides hope is useless and you’ve gotten over him. Gareth cuts through Eddie’s thoughts, “Come on, I can hear Richie’s bitching from here.”

Eddie’s mind is never in the game until he steps onto the stage, with bright lights blinding him, screaming fans, and his adrenaline at an all-time high. He comes back to earth then, comes back, and does the fuck out of his job— because this is the best part. The best fucking part, and it’s always been that way.

And it gets better when Eddie scans the crowd, coming down from the first song of the night and finally taking a look at his audience, and there he sees it— he sees you. There you are under flashing lights, drowning in a sea of people with that glint in your eyes.

Eddie thinks he’s imagining it because, fuck, he’s been dreaming of this for weeks on end; surely his delusion can reach the heights of hallucinations, right? But no, you’re real.

You’re so fucking real. So fucking insanely real beneath Eddie’s fingertips when he reaches out, ignoring the screams and clawing of fans as his fingers loop around your wrists and he says your name.

God, you’re really fucking here.

Eddie looks prettier than you remember when you first see him— curly mane draped over his shoulders and dark tattoos glistening on a bare torso, white lights framing him like he’s some kind of fucking archangel.

He’s gotten thicker in the few months, beefier around his arms and chest, and the long chains and pendants he wears from his neck rest down the valley of his torso, smeared in sweat and sin. You want to drag your tongue across his chest, taste the salt and his cologne, tug the silver cross between your lips, and suck and make him whimper.

His eyeliner is smudged and dark, and his smile when he gets a moment to take in the crowd makes your chest ache. He’s so pretty it hurts. He’s a dream and a nightmare all at once.

You missed him. God, you missed him so much.

His smile falters when he sees you, and you don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but his eyebrows pinch like he’s in pain, and you only want to wrap yourself around him and breathe in that scent that’s been haunting for nights on end.

He’s insane for jumping down to the barricade, like, completely-lost-his-fucking-mind, down-in-the-gutter, insane. But you can’t find it in you to protest when he steps up to the fence, reaching out and looping his warm finger around your wrist. “What the fuck?”

Your lips twitch into a smile at his words, but the crowd is getting rowdy with their beloved rockstar so up close and an elbow is being shoved into your side and Eddie moves quicker than you can comprehend, tugging you forward to the very front and motioning you to jump over.

“You’re insane!” You yell over the noise of the crowd. Eddie grins, damp curls dangling over his eyes as he peers down at you, “Unless if you wanna get crushed, be my guest.”

It’s slightly difficult, and there are a lot of gangly limbs and yearning hands reaching out everywhere, but Eddie eventually gets you over the barricade, and you’re gazing up at him with a warm grin when you sway on your feet. You wish you and Eddie could just walk away and have each other like you’ve been imagining for months, but Eddie has a job, and he’s working.

His eyes are blown wide, and his lips are so kissable, and his warm hand is squeezing your hip as he nods toward a security guard. “Keep an eye on this one, Rob,” He shouts over the screaming fans. You’re eyeing Eddie as he steps back toward the stage, sinking his in-ear back into place with a sly grin as he winks, “She’s real sneaky.”

The show is great, as it always is, and Eddie tries to be deft about it, but it’s evident to just about everyone how he practically clings to the side of the stage where you’re standing in front of. It’s cute, you’ll admit, but you feel bad for the fans, so you try to move around a bit.

The last song comes, and the show ends with Eddie and Jeff practically climbing over one another as they shred their guitars and the crowd goes insane when Eddie leans forward to drag his tongue up the side of Jeff’s face, grinning when the other boy rolls his eyes and walks off.

You’re being pulled backstage quicker than you know it, just in time to meet the group as they jog off the smokey stage with big grins on their faces.

Jeff is smothering Naomi in a sweaty hug and smattering kisses all over her face, and you’re glad to see they’re still together. Gareth is twirling his drumstick between his fingers and scanning the room for someone, but you don’t have time to try and figure out who because the one person you’ve been waiting for steps out next, and he’s got the biggest grin on his face as he practically jogs up to you.

You’re smiling and giggling out a greeting as he steps up to you and grasps your face between his hands, “No kisses!” You warn before he can lean in, and Eddie’s too excited to even pout about it. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?”

You reach up to slink your fingers around his wrists as his thumbs caress the soft skin beneath your eyes, “Got enough life left in you to talk?” You ask. Eddie’s eyes dance across your face, taking you in like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to before he nods. “Always.”

The dressing room seems to be the altar of truth for you and Eddie.

It’s dawning on you that most of the pivotal moments between you and Eddie have been in a dressing room, so it’s not irrational for you to feel a bit uneasy when you step in, and Eddie closes the door.

He’s like a kid in a candy store, trying not to touch what he sees. His eyes are so bright, but you can tell he’s holding himself back from doing and saying the things he wants, and you appreciate that he’s giving you the space, waiting for you to give him your yes or no.

Eddie plops onto the couch in the middle of the room and looks at you with a glint in his eyes. You deeply breathe, shifting in your spot before leaning back against the door, tipping your head as you study him; thighs comfortably spread, inked stories fluttering to life with each rise and fall of his bare torso. He’s a dream.

“I thought you’d be way more upset.”

Eddie’s lips tug like he wants to smile at the sound of your voice, or maybe it’s the sight of you, and he shifts in his seat with a shrug, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a cigarette and sticks it between his lips, and when you see him pat himself down, you’re already moving like it’s muscle memory.

You pick up the lighter on the coffee table and walk over to Eddie, sparking the flame as you speak, “You’re allowed to be upset, you know?” You remind him. Eddie’s gaze flickers in color as he looks up at you, and you try to ignore the goosebumps that rise up on your skin when his hand reaches up to rest on your hip, thumb caressing you over the material of your skintight dress. Streams of fire are licking up your spine as he leans forward to burn the end of the paper stick, and your center aches when he gently squeezes the fat of your hip. All throughout this, Eddie never lets his eyes fall from you.

He mumbles a short thank you once the cigarette lights, leaning back to rest against the seat as he looks up at you. You fight the urge to comb your fingers through his hair or do something dumb like climb into his lap. No doubt talking would fly out the window then.

You gently toss the lighter onto the coffee table and sit on the loveseat across from the pinnacle of your thoughts from the last six months. Eddie speaks around a cloud of smoke, “Do you want me to be upset?” He asks.

You shrug, trying your hardest not to break beneath his unwavering eye. “I don’t know.”

Eddie smiles then, and the strings of your heart play a symphony to the notes of his voice when he speaks, “I was for a little bit,” He admits, tapping ash onto the carpet, “But then Wayne told me to get my head out of my ass.”

You huff out a laugh at that, and Eddie grins. “How is he?” You ask. Eddie tips his head back and forth like he’s thinking, “Same old man as before. Think he’s got a girlfriend now. He’s being an asshole about the details, though.” He rolls his eyes, and you snort. You’re happy to hear Wayne has a person for himself now; if anyone deserves it, it’s him.

You shift, like you can’t seem to get comfortable enough, and you know you’re stalling, and you can see Eddie fighting to not call you out, so you try to ease into it; “Is that when you stopped calling?” You ask.

Eddie stiffens under the question, and you know the answer. He grimaces and runs a hand over his face with a soft groan, “Fuck,” he curses, “Fuck, yeah, it was.” He answers. “I’m sorry, I’m a fuckin’ hothead. I had made it a goal to call every night and then—” “I upset you.”

Eddie’s eyes are soft, and you have to force yourself to keep your eyes on his, “It wasn’t fair what I did, Eddie; I’m sorry—”

Eddie shakes his head, briefly shutting his eyes as he waves you off, “Nah, fuck that. You don’t need to apologize—” “But I do. I told you I wanted space, and then a week later, I’m plastered on a fucking cover with Baine fucking Carter.”

Baine Carter is a well-known songwriter within the industry. He’s got tracks spread all over the top charts, and he has a way of talking that can make just about anyone fall into a trance until you realize most of what he’s saying is just made-up bullshit. In hindsight, Baine wasn’t much different than most people in the music industry— it was a moment of weakness and pure vodka-weighted thinking. And, of course, it’s the moment when cameras find you.

“Kinda my fault too,” Eddie shrugs, “Camera’s wouldn’t have found you if I didn’t have press riding me.” And he’s right, but shitty press isn’t his fault, so how much of that can you really blame him for?

Eddie snickers at the memory of you painted on the cover of several magazines, “Think you’ve got a type, sweetheart.” He teases. Your face screws up in defense, and you scoff, “What does that mean?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Come on, you’re gonna tell me you didn’t say my name when he—” “We didn’t do anything— firstly— and even if I did say your name, I would never in a million years admit it.” You point out with a raised eyebrow.

Eddie smirks with a playful glint in his eye and he deeply breathes as he ashes his cigarette and rises to his feet. “I don’t care that you hooked up with Bain fucking Carter,” Eddie softly admits with a hint of a mocking grin, “Did it deeply wound me to the point where I almost thought I was gonna die? Yes.” He jokingly says, to which you want to roll your eyes at, but he’s stalking over to you like he’s some lion on the prowl, and all you can muster is a small huff with a mumbled, “You’re dramatic.”

Eddie stands in front of you and leans over to press his palms onto each side of your seat, leaning down until his face hovers above yours, “I’m kinda known for it, darling.” He winks.

Your core stirs at the proximity, and you can feel his breath against your top lip. “I will admit, though,” Eddie lets his hand drop to round over your bare knee, callused fingertips caressing your soft skin, “It gave me a huge ego boost seeing you with a literal replica of me.” He snickers, fingers dancing into the inside of your thigh. You huff, a playful glint in your eyes as you run your tongue across your teeth, “Yeah, I imagine your head couldn’t fit through the door for at least a month, huh?”

Eddie shrugs, “Depends. Which head we talking about, honey?”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes when he gently squeezes at the warm skin of your thigh. You tip your head lower, holding your gaze on Eddie as you lowly speak, ��I’m not having sex with you tonight, Eddie.”

Brown eyes flash with a familiar look you’d missed before they drop to your lips. “What about a kiss? Just one.” He presses. Your eyes narrow, “I doubt you could ever do just one.”

“You’ll never know if you never try.” His lips twitch up into a sly grin, taunting you and pushing you until your brain is just a muddled mess of yes, no, yes, no, yes, n— fuck it.

It’s like a sigh of relief to have Eddie’s lips on yours after such a long time. Weeks of nights and days spent trying to remember how it felt having his plump lips pressed onto yours, how he tasted, how warm his tongue was when it slunk into your mouth. None of those times you’d try to remember, none of those phantom feelings that would breeze through your body could ever amount to how it actually feels— it’s as if you’re seeing color for the first time.

It’s a fucking kiss, that’s for sure.

It’s long, and it takes you both a second to relearn the kinks and maneuvers you both favor, but then it’s as if time never passed between your bodies— you’re moving like one unit, like every second of your lives has built up to this moment.

Unfortunately, air is a necessity to living, so you’re pulling away sooner than you’d wanted to. Eddie’s other hand is digging into the cushion beneath you, and you can practically hear his thoughts spinning as he wills himself to pull back. You shiver as his fingers squeeze your thigh one last time before slipping away.

“How's that for a kiss?”

Brown eyes with pools of liquid gold, you missed the searing pain it gave you each time you reached out and touched. You purse your lips, tasting him on your tongue as you tip your head in thought— menthol and whiskey. “Care to answer a few questions? Pick up on our game?”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your nose as he snickers with a glint in his eyes. He studies you for a moment, like you might pull out and say never mind, but you only raise an eyebrow as you await an answer. “Your place or mine, honey?” He drawls.

You preen at the open door he’s lent you, “It’s your city, isn’t it?”

You don’t take the same car with Eddie to his place.

It’s not that you didn’t want to take the same car, but something about that look in Eddie’s eyes said that he absolutely wouldn’t be behaving on that car ride, and you immediately suggested separate vehicles. You’re unsure if you trust yourself to hold your promise in a confined space with Eddie… or maybe you don’t trust him… or— yeah, it’s both of you. Eddie wasn’t ecstatic about it, but you don’t care because you swear to god you aren’t going to fuck Eddie before you talk— like, really talk.

There are things that you both need to say, uncover, and express feelings about, and god forbid you get dicknotized before the words can come out correctly.

Eddie’s home is everything you thought it would be: chaotic in taste, lively, musical, whimsical, and all things that scream Eddie. The entryway is open and vast, with a clear view into the living room, where you can see a sunken living room build with guitars and papers strewn about.

Eddie’s ushering you further into his home before you can look deeper into the entrance, but you don’t mind because his living area is like an artist's wet dream. There are comfy couches, red, cream, and colors alike, and there’s a rug in the middle that looks like a psychedelic trip of dark colors, and along one of the walls is a long shelf of endless records.

“I moved in like a year ago, so it’s not perfect, but… this is me,” Eddie says. You hadn’t been paying attention, but now that he walks into your line of vision, you can see his shoes are off, and his loose blouse is fully open. He looks like a fantasy; lean body dripped in expensive clothes and clinking jewelry, shoulders broad and sculpted beneath his wavy hair. Fuck.

You slip your shoes off and let your feet sink into his home's fluffy, deep red carpet, never once dropping your gaze from him as you walk over to the couch. “It’s beautiful, Eddie. It’s very you.”

You sink into his couch, turning so you can face him with your arms crossed over the back of the sofa as you watch him pick a record and set it up. Through the surround system of his home, the familiar riff to Tommy Bolin’s Shake The Devil rings. You watch Eddie sink a hand into his hair, shaking out his messy curls before pausing. The guitar is loud and you’re leaning forward when he snaps his head to dramatically look over his shoulder. You stifle a laugh, intrigued to see where he’s going with this— and you hate to admit that you begin enjoying the show when he turns around, fingers crafted and messily playing an air guitar to the track.

His stomach and chest flex with each of his moves, the buckle and button to his jeans open to flash you a dangerously low view of his happy trail leading to sinful places. He’s walking sex; head tilted back as he shreds the imaginary guitar, hips moving with the song as he walks toward you. He sinks to his knees in front of you, and with his living room being sunken and him still being on the higher level, you’re just in line with the view of his spread legs, crotch on full display. His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gazes at you, switching to air drums before the words kick in. You can’t hide the smile that graces your lips as he dramatically sings along, leaning forward until his face is just inches in front of yours, ringed fingers reaching to cup your face. Standing face to face with the devil, huh?

Your hands have a mind of their own apparently because they reach out and coast up Eddie’s jean-clad thighs, nails scratching up against the material until your fingers hook into the belt loops of his jeans. You lean forward on your knees, sharing a breath with the pretty boy, and you smile. Eddie groans low in his throat, the breakdown of the song blasting in both your ears and your heart racing. His teeth dig into his lips like he’s trying to physically hold himself back, and you softly laugh. “Laughin’ at my misery?” He asks.

You shrug, “Maybe. You look fuckin’ hot.”

Eddie groans again, eyes rolling back into his head before he dives forward, nuzzling his face into your neck and faking a bite as you squeal. “Can’t say shit like that to me, princess. Wanna fuck the shit out of you.” His teeth drag against your pulse, and you squirm with a louder squeal, causing him to tumble forward, collapsing onto the couch with you, and your limbs mix like one big painting as he dramatically grunts on impact. He shifts until he’s laid on his back, head resting in your lap as he peers up at you.

“You staying the night?” He asks.

You snort, brushing a strand of hair from his face, “Didn’t I tell you we’re not having sex?” You remind him. Eddie huffs and digs his head into your lap as he shuffles in his spot, “Did I ask for sex just now?” He challenges. You raise an unconvinced eyebrow, “So, you want me to spend the night just to spend the night?”

Eddie’s eyes gleam as he looks up at you, “It’s been my dream.”

You roll your eyes, playfully shoving him off you with a huff, “Get me a drink, and I’ll think about it?”

Eddie hops up as if second nature, padding over to the stereo and turning it down just enough to hear you as he talks over his shoulder, “Sure thing, honey; what would you like?”

Honey, honey, honey.

You want to drown in it.

You’re not listening as Eddie lists off the drinks he has, busy swirling in sticky, sweet, golden lakes and admiring the shift of Eddie’s hips and ass beneath his jeans. “Surprise me.” You respond.

“Copy that, madam.”

He doesn’t go far because there’s a built-in bar on the other side of the room, so you have the perfect view of him working his magic, mixing liquor and dropping ice cubes into a crystal glass. When he finishes making your drink, he turns and walks over to you with this glint in his eyes, and you feel your body heat under his gaze. “This one's on the house,” He says with a wink, handing you the drink. You thank him, taking the glass as he sits back onto the couch, sinking into the plush cushions and watching you gently sip before pulling a sour face.

He laughs, “Too strong?” He asks. You grimace with a shake of your head, smacking your lips, “No, no, it’s good. Thank you.”

Your legs are kicked up on the couch, and Eddie finds his fingers slinking around your bare ankle, gently squeezing, “Want something comfy?” He asks.

God, he’s relentless.

You laugh, “You really want me to stay,” You tease. Eddie sinks like he’s letting all inhibitions go as he answers, “Desperately.”

He can tell you’re cracking, and you have to hide your grin behind the glass as you shake your head in disbelief at yourself, “Fine. Go, before I change my mind.”

And Eddie’s sprinting up, holding his jeans up from falling as he jogs up the stairs with a happy cheer.

A half-hour passes, and you find yourself sitting on Eddie’s comfy living room floor, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt of his because, in Eddie’s words, ‘there’s no need for pants in a home setting, sweetheart.’ You think he just wants easy access and an eyeful of your bare legs.

Eddie’s licking up the crease of a blunt and your body is warm with whiskey and the shrill of a jazzy melody from the radio. He’s so pretty, leaned over the glass coffee table, bare shoulders flexing, curly hair draping as a curtain as he works. He clicks his tongue when he’s done, and you raise an eyebrow, pressing your bare toes into his thigh when he scoots closer. “Up for a smoke?” He asks.

You don’t smoke much, not that you don’t enjoy a nice high, but you find yourself more appreciative of your highs when they’re spaced out and random. You nod, and Eddie grins, “Atta girl. Here, honorary first hit,” He passes the blunt to you, and you snicker, grasping it between two fingers and holding it up to your lips. Eddie helps you with a lighter, leaning forward to burn the end of the paper, and you take one good drag before pulling the bunt away, rolling the smoke into your lungs to settle as best as you can handle before you sputter out in a small coughing fit.

Your eyes water, and Eddie grins as you pass it to him, leaning forward to kiss your temple, “That was good, baby.”

You watch as he takes a hit of his own, huffing out a few coughs of his own, and jesus christ, why do rockstars always smoke devious shit? It’s strong, whatever Eddie has you smoking, and it only takes you three hits before you already feel a buzz coming, and Eddie looks so pretty with low eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Ready to play our game?” He rasps out.

“Mm.” You agree, reaching out to take another hit.

“Did you listen to the albums?”

I can't destroy what isn't there

Deliver me into my fate

If I'm alone I cannot hate

I don't deserve to have you

Oh my smile was taken long ago

If I can change I hope I never know

God, did you listen to the albums? Sure, you have it ingrained into your fucking mind, and it burns.

You smile, slowly blinking because, of course, that’s Eddie’s first question. You breathe out clouds of fairy dust as you speak, “Yes, I did. Did you read the magazine?” You ask.

Eddie nods, leaning back against the couch, extending his legs out as he eyes you, “I did. Which song did you like best?”

“Mm, the one with the drums.” You smile.

Eddie laughs, and you pass the blunt back to him before leaning back on the opposite couch, toes almost touching when you extend your legs across the carpet. “You’re a kiss-up, you know that?” He gestures to you, to which you only shrug.

Eddie crawls across the living room, and you fight the urge to reach out and thread your fingers through his hair as he plops himself right next to you, leaning against the couch as well. Your thighs are touching, and you can feel the warmth of him, and the smell of weed is wafting through the air, and you just want to nuzzle into Eddie’s chest and never leave.

“Miss me?” You teasingly ask. You can hear the slight smile in Eddie’s voice as he responds, “Negative. You?”

You snort, “Negative.”

You shuffle to lean against Eddie, and he can’t seem to help it when he reaches out to push your hair back gently. “What do you wanna be when you grow up?” You ask.

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch in confusion, no doubt lost by what you mean, considering he already has his lifetime job figured out, “What do you mean?”

You sigh, wriggling as you fight the urge to wrap your body around him, “I mean,” You shrug, “Well, you’re not gonna do this forever, right? Like, at some point, you’re going to have to throw in the towel, age, and whatnot,” You dismissively wave, “What will you do then?”

Eddie pauses and thinks for a moment, and if you couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin on yours, you would think he vanished into thin air. “I, uh…. Well, you’ll think it’s stupid.” He mumbles.

You frown, turning your head to look at him, “I won’t. Tell me. Please?”

He looks at you with these soft, fond eyes before nodding, “I wanna start a music school in Hawkins— maybe, like, a creative arts school, you know, something for the weirdos. Not just music geeks.” He admits. His tone is so soft, maybe the softest you’ve ever heard, and he’s fiddling with his rings like he’s nervous, and it’s the cutest sight you’ve ever seen.

“It’s not really celebrated there. Creativity, I mean.” He adds.

You stay quiet, allowing him to speak, “Everybody just lives to work dead-end jobs. Being creative is like… a sin or something, I don’t know. I just want to give the kids somewhere where they’ll feel… safe. Seen. Something I never got for myself.”

It’s… it’s fucking brilliant. It’s so brilliant it makes your chest ache, and you decide that you would do just about anything to make sure Eddie’s dreams of a music school come true.

“I told you it’s stupid. No one ever thinks it’s good.” He mumbles after a moment with your silence. You frown and shake your head, sitting up straight to look at him. “No. No, Eddie, it’s amazing…It’s fucking amazing, and you should do it. You have to do it.”

“You’re just playing nice.”

“No, seriously. Fuck whoever said it wasn’t a good idea, it’s brilliant.” You press on, and you want to lean in and pepper kisses all over his face because— seriously, who the fuck told him it was a shitty idea?

“I grew up in a small town too, and— shit, it was not fun wanting to be something other than a nurse or a teacher. Got a lot of shit trying to ‘reach for the stars’,” You huff out a laugh. Eddie’s eyes are so gentle as they gaze at you that you almost melt. “I would’ve appreciated something like that. Munson’s School of Arts.”

Eddie snorts at that, pink lacing with yours as a smile spreads across your lips, “Not bad actually, I might name it that.”

It’s a back and forth of that for a while, silly questions amongst genuine ones until you find yourselves sat next to each other, arms pressed together, bodies yearning to wrap around each other as you fiddle with the strings of Eddie’s carpet. And there’s something, you know. Eddie feels something that he’s not telling you, and it’s killing you because it’s what you need to hear before you take the plunge. “Are you angry with me?” You softly ask.

Eddie’s quiet for a moment, and the blunt was snuffed out a while ago, so he’s not taking a drag but instead just stalling. “I mean,” he pauses, “I already told you, Birdie. What’s the point in going back on it?”

You frown, glancing at him, “Because I want you to tell me how you feel, Eddie.” You respond.

Eddie’s silent again for a longer moment, and you want to whine when he shifts away to sit in front of you. He folds his legs up, resting his elbows over his knees as he sits face to face with you, “Do you want me to be angry with you?” He steadily asks.

Your blink, “I— no?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, and you huff, “Honestly, a little bit, yes. It’s okay to be angry with me, Eddie; that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Eddie’s demeanor is unwavering as he blinks at you, but his tone is accusing, “Do you want me to be angry with you so you can feel justified?”

And, ouch.

That’s not the truth at all. Or maybe it’s some truth, but in your true feelings, that’s not what you mean. It’s only a fleeting thought because you’re human, after all, right?

“That’s not fair,” You frown with a small shake of your head. Eddie raises another eyebrow, and you tilt your head, “I’m only trying to be as transparent as possible, Eddie. That was the main issue.” You remind him.

Eddie turns to the coffee table, grabs your forgotten glass of Jack Daniels, and takes a swig for himself. “You wouldn’t tell me how you felt, and I was always left in the dark.” You say.

“And I’m telling you right now that I’m not angry.” He’s teetering on the edge of irritated now, and you tilt your head. “I listened to the album, Eddie. I listened to the song; you’re seriously gonna tell me you’re not angry?”

Eddie can only glance at you then, and your frown deepens. “That’s… different.”

“How, Eddie? It’s about me—” “Yeah, because you fucking walked out on me on closing night,” Eddie exclaims. “How was I supposed to feel?”

Your chest tightens as you look into the eyes of your dreams, lyrics swirling in your mind because you’ve fucking memorized every word. You listened to it until you felt sick, dizzy with a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs.

You sold me out to save yourself

And I won't listen to your shame

You ran away, you're all the same

Angels lie to keep control

Your chest aches when the lyrics echo in your mind.

“I just want you to be honest with me. If I made you feel that way—” “No, that’s not—” Eddie shakes his head, pinches the bridge of his nose, and cringes like it's painful. “That’s not it at all— fuck.” He puts the glass down and scoots back over to you; knees pressed into the fluffy carpet beside your thighs as he leans in and cups your face, eyes darting over your pretty features. “I was angry, and I was a shithead, and I had people talking in my ear and— shit. Please don’t think you ever blame yourself for that, please.”

Your fingers are cold, but Eddie’s wrists are warm beneath your fingertips as you frown up at him, “Just tell me how far out you are, Eds.”

Eddie looks at you with soft eyes, a callused thumb running under the delicate skin beneath your eye. He leans forward, pressing his lips against your forehead, and you preen, nuzzling forward and sinking into his warmth and scent that you’ve missed for so long.

“Not far,” He responds, lips brushing over your skin. “You?”

You hum, body reeling as Eddie slinks his arms around you, “Not far.”

Forty minutes and another blunt later, and Eddie’s floating in the fucking sky.

Eddie can’t believe it really, having you in front of him, next to him, limbs pressed to limbs with your laugh ringing in his ears— Eddie thinks this is some sick, realistic dream.

It’s tender, the space you’ve both created. You’re both fragile and reactive in the best way, like a healing exposed nerve, and Eddie will be forever in your debt for how patient you are with him. He’s not good at talking about real shit, but he’s trying to fix that, and you make it easier because you push him in the way he needs to be— you encourage him to say what he feels even if he’s afraid he might end up shooting himself in the foot and chasing you away again because— ‘It’s the only way things will get better.’

But you’ve always been patient. You were patient six months ago, and you’re patient now. You know exactly what you want, and you’re firm in what you say and feel, and it makes Eddie feel safe.

He’s never had this kind of thing— he’s never had a relationship where someone talks and leaves room for him to speak as well— two-way communication or whatever the fuck Robin says. It’s different, and it’s good, and Eddie thinks he must have shit taste if it’s taken him this long to realize it.

Chrissy never really cared for what Eddie wanted or preferred, or how something she did would make him feel. Eddie, at the time, didn’t think much of it and was more than happy to ride along with her ‘low maintenance’ nature, but it only cut him off from growth more than anything.

Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore because Chrissy is in the past, and you— you’re so pretty standing on Eddie’s couch in just his shirt with a blunt hanging between your fingers. You’ve just returned from changing the record— Surrealistic Pillow; Eddie knew the second you dropped the needle and watched you spin around with a shit-eating grin.

“Hippie shit,” Eddie mutters as you hop down from his couch. Your eyes narrow, “Hey,” you nudge your foot against his thigh, “Don’t be an asshole. It was on your shelf anyway.”

Eddie slinks his hand around your calf, blinking up at you as you stand over him. You reach down, the burning blunt standing between your fingers, and Eddie happily parts his lips to let you slip the tip in. Burning sativa licks up the sides of Eddie’s brain, and he melts when your other hand sinks into his hair, gently pressing his bangs back as his eyes flutter. You hum, and Eddie’s lips tip into a smile as the smoke churns in his chest. Your knuckles curl into his roots, and Eddie could fucking cum right now, no questions asked.

He’s harder than a rock, and he’s not ashamed when he sinks his hand down the open fly on his jeans to palm himself, lowly groaning as he tips his head up, playfully blowing clouds of smoke up your shirt and grinning when you squeal. He chuckles, hand slinking further up your leg to grip the fat of your thigh as he tilts his head to nip his teeth at the inside of your knee.

He turns to let his chin rest on your thigh, blinking up at you with hazy eyes, “Let me in, baby.” He pleads.

You sink to your knees until you’re face to face, and Eddie’s hands glide under your shirt, warm and itching to explore as he feels the flutter of your lungs beneath his fingertips. “No funny business, Munson.” You remind him, swatting him away when his fingers prod at the cup of your bra. Eddie grins, brain fuzzy and warm, and he can’t stop himself from leaning forward and planting a quick kiss against your lips.

“I have something for you.” He says. Your eyebrows raise, and Eddie smiles, standing up with a grunt and shaking out his stiff limbs. “Don’t move,” He points to you before padding off.

The gift Eddie has for you has been with him since the fourth week he knew you. He’s been holding onto it for so long because he’s been a coward and didn’t know how to form the words ‘I’m sorry’ with his tongue— but now, Eddie’s riding on a high, and he needs you and wants you all the time and there’s no better time than now, right?

He’s holding the gift behind his back when he steps into the living room, and he smiles at the sight of you laid out on his floor, eyes closed as you sink into the music. You’re on cloud nine, Eddie can tell.

He drops to his knees over you, pressing his free hand into the floor beside your head, and his hair creates a curtain over you when you look up at him. “You look… tempting, to say the least.”

Your eyes playfully narrow at Eddie, and you squirm beneath him, “What’re you hiding behind your back?”

There are tears in your eyes as you blink down at the gift in your hands, and you know Eddie must think you’re insane for crying over a book— a journal at that. It’s a pale yellow colored leather, with two leather straps that are tied into a neat bow, and in the corner, your name is stamped in tiny cursive gold letters— your real name.

It’s a replica of your old journal, the one that had gotten ruined when you tore the pages out to prove a point. But you don’t understand— “How did you get this?” You ask in a soft voice.

Eddie grins, reaching out to thumb at your bottom lip, eyes soft as he watches your eyes dance over the journal. “Called in a favor from Michigan.” He jokingly says. Your chest aches, and you frown when you look up at him, fingers tight around the binding of your gift, “You talked to him?”

Eddie snickers, “Yeah. Got a lot of shit from him first, I’ll tell you that,” He pauses and scratches at the back of his neck, “He told me he hates my music.”

You laugh at that, body warm with adoration because, yeah, that sounds like your grandfather. You sniffle, wiping under your eyes, “How did you know?” You ask.

Eddie shrugs as he sits next to you, “The cover of your journal had his name on it, so I kind of pieced it together since you share a last name.”

You don’t know what to think, what to say. It’s the kindest thing Eddie (or anyone) has ever done for you. Your grandfather had been in the business of handmaking journals for as long as you can remember; he was part of the reason why you took such a liking to journalism. He had a brief history in journalism himself, and he would sit and go through his best works with you when you struggled to fall asleep— he helped you see the world through the lens of an artist, and you never looked back.

You’re elated as you run your hands over the pages, imagining what the phone call between Eddie and your grandfather was like. You wish you could’ve been there to hear it; you wish you could’ve brought Eddie to meet him in person because even though your grandfather acted tough and mighty, he had the softest heart you’ve ever known, and he would’ve adored Eddie.

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you put the journal on the coffee table. You huff, turning to clamber onto Eddie’s lap, glaring at him as your hands dig into his shoulders, “I hate you so much.”

Eddie grins at you, and you drop your head to his chest, snuggling further into him when he wraps his arms around you. You grumble against his chest, turning your head to speak, “You’re making it so hard.” You complain.

You feel the rumble of Eddie’s voice in his chest as he hums, “Hm?”

Eddie shifts beneath you, and you sigh, turning your head up to nuzzle against the base of his throat. Your teeth drag across his skin, red lines left in their wake before you let your tongue coast up his pulsing vein, mouth kissing and suckling at what you can reach— and Eddie whimpers.

“You know…It’s past midnight.”

“Fffuck–”

Eddie’s dead.

He’s gone. Six feet under. In the next life, body turned back to dust, never coming back, dead. This must be the seventh circle of heaven— is that a thing? Or is that only hell?

Either way, Eddie’s on an entirely different plane of heaven as you press your body against his, knees tightening around his waist as he pulls you close and smears his lips against yours. He can feel the heat of your core through his pants, and his hips have a mind of their own when they buck up into you.

Your fingers are blind and eager when they wriggle through the tight space between you and Eddie, but it sends shivers up Eddie’s spine when you drag your nails down the soft skin of his lower pelvis.

Eddie’s lips part against yours, and he’s licking into your mouth, tongue flicking at your top lip as you shakily moan. “What happened to no sex tonight?” He lowly teases. His hands sink beneath your shit, squeezing at your hips and guiding the roll of your hips.

“Shut up, Eddie.” You whine, fingertips digging into his shoulders when he rubs against your covered clit. Eddie smiles, watching as your face twists in pleasure, and his chest nearly bursts because you’re so fucking pretty.

“You want me?” He asks.

Your lips twitch into a smile, and your hands slide down his arms to rest over his wrists that flex as they work you back and forth over his crotch. “Yeah,” You breathe, tipping your head down to hover your lips over Eddie’s, “I do. I want you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s tongue runs over his lips, and he catches your bottom lip, and you lick out to catch his tongue before pressing your lips together. Eddie uses one hand to cup your face, “You’re not curious where my dick’s been while we were apart?” He teases.

And if you weren’t practically humping Eddie right now and thinking straight, you probably would’ve choked Eddie out or something— but you only mewl and grind down harder. “Not funny.”

Eddie hums, fingers dancing across the band of your panties before dipping past the barrier. He feels like a pirate who’s finally found the hidden treasure, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to ground himself because, Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.

His cock feels strangled and achy in his jeans, and he imagines how good it’ll feel to sink his cock into you as he swirls a gentle finger around your entrance. “For the record,” He drawls, watching your lips part when he dips his finger into you, “It’s been nowhere. My dick, I mean.”

You breathlessly laugh, hips wriggling, your pussy eager for more. “Been beating it with my fist for the last six months, so. Just want you to know— it’s only you, baby.”

You mewl, leaning forward to press your forehead against Eddie’s as you grind against him, shivering when he finally sinks a finger into you, drawing out to circle your clit with sticky arousal before sinking back in with two fingers.

You’re sharing each breath, taking each other in and out; Eddie watches with low eyes as your face twists in pleasure.

“Take it off,” He grumbles, “Take your shirt off.”

You’re moving like it’s second nature. Shaky hands reaching down to loop around the loose shirt, dragging it up and over your body— and Eddie’s head tips back with a groan. “Jesus fuck,” He curses, one hand busy working you as the other reaches down to palm your breast, “When did you take your bra off, you fuckin’ minx?”

You whimper against Eddie’s lips when he kisses you, the force of his eagerness pushing you back. Eddie keeps pressing you back, shuffling and moving around so he can press you down onto your back and hover over you. “Wanna taste you. Let me taste you.” He begs.

You shake your head, lips messily smearing against his, “No. No, you said—” god, Eddie can’t stop fucking kissing you, “You said you’ll let me have you next time, Eds.” You whine.

Fuck, you’re so fucking cute. You’re a goddamn dream pouting up at Eddie, grinding against his fingers as he ticks them up against your walls. “Yeah? You want me?” Eddie breathlessly asks. Your lips are pouty and swollen as you nod, “Already told you I did.” You say.

It takes everything in Eddie to pull away from you, and he thinks he’s gonna marry you when you reach out for him. Thinks he wants to just whisk you away and live on the side of a secluded mountain or some shit. Thinks he wants you to be the mother of his kids when you smile up at him as he rises to his feet, gazing down at you over the apple of his cheeks as he removes his jeans. You’re so pretty, hair spread out beneath you, tits on full display, tummy fluttering with each drag and push of your breaths. You’re lightly dragging the tip of your finger down your stomach, a teasing glint in your eyes as Eddie throws his hair into the shittest bun known to man, and fuck, you’re dipping your hand between your thighs.

Yeah. This is heaven, and you’re god.

Eddie thinks he’ll spend the rest of his life on his knees worshipping you.

Eddie’s body is warm when he crawls back over you, his body now bare, save for the chains that dangle from his neck. One cross, one guitar pick, one pentagram. They’re cold when they drag up the valley of your chest, and your body perks up with chills.

You slink your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, titling your head up to kiss him as your fingers curl into his messily tied hair. “Give me what I want, Eds.” You softly say against his lips. “Fuck my mouth, please.”

Eddie curses, rutting his cock against the inside of your thigh, and he nods, “Yeah. Fuck. Okay, yeah. Just lay here and look pretty, baby.”

The lasting effects of the three blunts you’d shared with Eddie are swirling through your body, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine as Eddie straddles your hips. He’s the prettiest sight to ever reach your eyes, toned arms, and chest working in tandem as he reaches down to wrap a fist around his cock— and god; you forgot how pretty his cock was. The tip is ruddy and flushed, and your core twists when he angles himself up, and you see the piercing beneath his tip. You definitely hadn’t forgotten about that little detail these past months.

Eddie’s chest is rising and falling quickly and stray pieces of hair cling to his lips when he licks them. You watch with wide, eager eyes as Eddie strokes himself, ringed fingers running against the soft skin of his shaft, pretty hisses curling through his teeth when he thumbs the slit of his tip.

“Quit teasing,” You whine, squirming beneath him. Eddie grins, breathlessly panting as he looks at you, “So impatient.” He mumbles, shifting further up your body until the inside of his thighs press against the side of your tits. You can feel the cool drag of his rings against your sternum, and it sends licks of fire through your core. “My baby’s so impatient, hm?” He taps his cock against your chest, and your frown, fingers digging into his thighs.

“Lucky you’re cute.”

Eddie’s then shuffling and moving around so you’re both comfortably positioned as he kneels over your face, pretty cock glistening above your lips. You open your mouth and let your tongue hang out, ready for Eddie to feed his cock to you, and he chuckles, tapping his swollen tip against your tongue before dragging it to tease you.

It’s good. It’s so good. The taste of him, the feel of him, the pretty noises he makes. You can feel the cold barbell dragging across your tongue with each slow thrust he gives you, and you can’t wait to feel it inside you again. You’ve been dreaming about it for weeks on end now.

He pulls out with a slick pop, tapping his tip against your lips as he hums, “Ready? Gonna give you what you want now.”

You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at a mind-numbing and thigh-clenching rate for just under five minutes before he starts to break. You can feel it in the stutter of his hips, the twitch of his cock on your tongue, the shuddered moans and grunts. You reach up to drag your nails down the soft skin of his stomach, and Eddie whimpers for the second time, and you think it might be your favorite sound— you want more.

He’s pulling out with a curse, squeezing at his tip, and you’re such a fucking tease; you lean forward to kitten lick at his aching tip and hum when he hisses. He shuffles back just enough to lean forward and press a messy kiss to your lips, humming at the taste of himself on your tongue.

“Fuck me, Eddie. Please. Want it so bad it hurts.”

“Jesus fuck— turn around.”

You’re shaking, and Eddie’s touch feels like fire as he helps you flip over to lean on all fours. His hands coast up your back and into your hair, and you push your body back into him, ass pressing against his wet cock as you moan when his fingers curl into your hair.

His other hand smooths over your ass, heavily slapping it once before gripping the warm skin as he speaks beside your ear, “Wanna fuck your ass one day, hm? Gonna let me? Say you’ll let me.” “Oh my god,” You roll your eyes with a smile, tipping your head to the side when Eddie kisses your neck before nipping at your ear. You can feel the curve of his smile against your skin, and it makes your chest flutter as he pulls you up to press your back against his chest.

He’s reaching down between you to grasp his cock and paint it against your wet cunt, and you lose your breath. “Come on. Say you’ll let me fuck your pretty ass.” He practically begs.

You moan when he slips his head in, teasing you with what he knows you want. Your head rolls back to rest against his shoulder, and he hums, slinking his other hand up to cup your throat as he continues teasing himself in and out of your pussy.

You smile, lazy and high and blissed out, “No.”

Eddie groans at that, fingers tightening around your throat as he sinks in deeper. “Not even a finger?”

You push your fingers through his hair, his curly strands nothing but a tangled mess within his hair tie. Your legs tremble as you wriggle back into him, but your voice is steady as you speak, “Fuck me first, and maybe I’ll think about it.”

Eddie takes that as a challenge, apparently, because next thing you know, he’s slamming into you and pressing in to the fucking hilt— all big and pierced and toe curling to the point where your moans turn flat, and all you can do is lace your fingers through his that rest on your hip and hold on for dear fucking life.

He’s pressing you face-first into the carpet, making sure your cheek rests against the couch pillow that had been thrown aside earlier. His fingers are clenched around yours, digging into your hip as you whine and moan into his floor, sobbing out his name with each groundbreaking thrust he gives you.

It’s all-consuming; the way Eddie’s fucking you, the filthy words slipping from his mouth, the lingering effects of weed— god, you feel like an exploding star.

Supernova shit or something like that.

Eddie’s cursing and spilling dirty words of encouragement when you come, leaning over to press his chest against your back and coo into your ear.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Keep squeezing me like that, baby. You’re so good.”

“Y’sound so pretty when you’re coming on my cock.”

You’re breathless and quivering, and a pitiful whine slips from you when Eddie pulls out, but you can feel him as he wraps his hand around his cock and finishes off, pretty moans pressed into the skin on the back of your neck. The feeling of his sticky release dripping onto your ass makes you want to go at it again already.

He’s peppering kisses across your neck and shoulders, and your body slumps onto the ground in exhaustion, but you smile when he presses his lips to yours.

“So, was that good enough? Have I been granted access to the holy grail?”

You glare at Eddie from where his chin is hooked over your shoulder. He raises a suggestive eyebrow, and you huff. “I’ll tell you what,” You start, shifting and purposely rubbing your ass back against his sensitive cock, smiling when he hisses.

“Make up for the last six months first, and I might be able to cut you a deal.”

“Now you’re just stringing me along.”

You hum, “Oh, like you did with me some months ago?”

Eddie pauses at that, eyes narrowing at you, and you think— fuck, maybe that was too soon. But then a smile cracks across his face, “Touché.”

He sighs and sits up, peeling himself from your sticky skin before gently patting your hip. “Ass up, baby. Got a lot of making up to do, and we’re on a tight schedule.”

And you think to yourself, with the scent of Eddie whirling around you and his touch all over you and his pretty voice in your ear, that yeah, you can work through this together. Even if the process will tear you to shreds all over again.

After all, that’s the price of falling for a rockstar, isn’t it?

————

the end.

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a/n: HOLY SHIT GUYS

if you've made it to the end of this long-winded (and incredibly late, I'm so sorry) ending to this story i can not thank you enough. these two have been so fun to write and i don't plan to leave them completely in the dust so they're not gone forever, but thank you so much to everyone who read and shared and commented. this story has allowed me to meet the most beautiful, kind, funny, and loving people I've ever had the pleasure of talking to and that will be my biggest takeaway from this journey🥹

the biggest thank yous to my pretty mutuals who have been here the whole way, ilysm and want to shrink you guys and put you in my pocket <3

anyway, i'll shut up now, i hope i was able to do these two justice with their ending!! i love and appreciate all kinds of feedback, and as always, thank you for reading, ily <3

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