#deep eddy vodka

[lunar-goodness]

I have had 2(two) different drinks from 2 different bars on 2 different days that had deep eddy vodka in them. I have not in any way, shape or form put the words deep eddy into my phone until typing this right now. How…HOW did tiktok know this and show me a deep eddy vodka commercial just now???? You cannot convince me our phones are not listening to us!!!

[askchilchuck]

Im not much of an alcohol fan but I’ve liked cruisers before, whats your opinion on them?

Don’t think I’ve tried one before, one second. He grabs a bottle and takes a sip or two. You’re not sure where he got it from.

It’s alright. A little sweet for my liking, though. Here, you want the rest? He passes you the bottle. It’s raspberry flavored.

[sweatermuppet]

- mostly gay

- not married

- don't fuck in a way that requires condoms

> condoms + for my wife card

[gmax-centiskorch]

in the kitchen straight up drinking it. And by it?

haha well let’s just say. My peach

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry Wine. aka - Cherry, Part Two.

everything feels like love when you're drunk... right?

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. characters who wouldn't even recognise their own feelings if they smacked them in the face.

word count - 3k

author's note - I love it when people walk each other home... if you couldn't tell. I think some of our most honest conversations happen on the street at 3am. thank you so much for all the love on Cherry!! I hope you enjoy this part two. friends to lovers might just be my favourite trope ever. it gets me everytime :(.

as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics <3. thanks, angels.

part one. part three. part four. series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

His eyes are glued to you.

They have been since he watched you pour just a little too much cherry vodka into your red plastic cup.

He keeps trying to catch your gaze across the smoky room, multicoloured lights clouding his vision. There's some sort of punk song playing through a stereo system somewhere, the beat of the guitar thumping through the wooden floorboards and into Steve's bones.

You're laughing, head thrown back at something Eddie has said. He's funny, Steve thinks. But not that funny. He watches carefully, refraining from intervening right up until the moment you almost trip over your own foot and into the curly haired boy. Steve's moving across the room before he can even process it.

"Cherry," he teases, hand snaking around your waist to hold you upright. "You okay?"

You turn in his hold to throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

"Stevie."

You say his name so sweet that he stumbles and almost takes you down with him.

"You okay?" you giggle.

"I'm good. You good?"

"I'm good."

You sway with him for a second, closing your eyes and revelling in the warmth of his hands on the bare skin of your waist.

"You're a little tipsy, huh?"

"Just a little."

"You wanna go home?"

You chew on your lip for a moment, weighing up your options.

"Can we go to your place? I don't wanna face my parents like this."

Steve leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair back from your face.

"Of course. Let's go, hm?"

"Let me grab my jacket. I'll meet you by the door."

You slink off upstairs, leaving Steve alone with Eddie.

"Just friends," Eddie mocks under his breath quietly.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

Steve stares at his friend with a brow quirked, stormy look on his face.

"All I'm sayin' is - I don't look at my best friend like that. Don't hold 'em like you just did. Don't have sleepovers either."

"I've known her since we were kids. It's different."

"I've got friends I've known since kindergarten. I don't kiss them on the forehead."

"I wouldn't put it past you," Steve mumbles, finished with the conversation. "Whatever, man. You don't get it."

"Oh, I get it. You're in love. Steve and Cherry, sitting in a tree-"

"Don't call her that."

"See? You're defensive over her nickname, because you gave it to her. Don't be an idiot, Steve. Life's too short."

"Yours will be, if you don't shut up."

Eddie takes that as his cue, shaking his head as he leaves to go and complain about the music choice.

Steve meets you outside, chuckling when he sees you shivering as you hold your jacket.

"Cherry, put your coat on. You're freezing."

You look up at him, slightly bewildered, and he fights to keep the smile off his face. Taking it from your hands, Steve slips the jacket around your shoulders, hands skimming up your arms to warm you.

"Better?"

"Better."

You slip your hand into his and begin to walk away from the noise, finally taking a deep breath when you're down the street.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply, nudging him with your shoulder. "Feet hurt though. Fuckin' shoes."

You both stop, Steve kneeling down in front of you to unbuckle your heels. You look at him questioningly and he winks, cheeky and full of love.

He slips them off your feet and sits down on the curb, taking his sneakers off and gesturing for you to step into them.

"No, Steve. I chose to wear these, it's my own fault."

"I know, and they looked cute. But now you're going to wear these."

You step into the shoes reluctantly, holding back tears when he kneels and ties your laces tightly. Rising to his feet, he presses a kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers again, picking up your heels with his other hand.

You're both quiet, as you walk. Neither of you needs to say anything. It's always been this way. Steve's not good with silence usually, but with you, it's more than comfortable. Sometimes, you'll sit for hours in his bedroom doing your own things, content to just know the other person is there.

"Minnie Lawson kept asking about you tonight."

You try to keep the disdain from your voice as best you can, praying Steve doesn't pick up on it.

He does. He doesn't mention it.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

You keep walking, smiling occasionally when you catch sight of Steve's socked feet next to yours.

"What did she say?"

You mentally kick yourself for bringing it up, but take a deep breath and tell him anyway.

"Kept asking if you were single."

"And what did you say?"

"Told her she needed to ask you herself and that I'm not your secretary."

Steve cackles at this, loud and endearing. The sound makes you grin, whether you want to or not.

"Shit, Cherry baby. What did the girl ever do to you?"

"I didn't mind when she asked the first couple times, but the more she drank, the more she forgot. She couldn't remember if she'd already asked so kept asking again."

He laughs again, squeezing your hand where it still holds his tightly.

"She didn't talk to me."

"Didn't think she would."

He looks at you for a moment too long, your eyes meeting the floor to avoid his gaze.

"Mikey was asking about you tonight, you know."

You'd had a crush on Mikey in ninth grade, the summer after he'd gotten tall and started to look less like four walking limbs and more like a man. He was a nice guy, if not a little boisterous sometimes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Said you looked pretty. Wanted to know if you were still with the Douchebag."

You chuckle at the hatred in Steve's voice at the mention of your ex boyfriend.

"And you said..."

"That he was in the wind, thankfully."

"Dodged a bullet with that one."

You lean into his arm, savouring the warmth of his skin you can feel through your jacket and his long sleeve shirt.

"Mikey wants to ask you out."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Is that so hard to believe? You're a catch, you know."

"I don't know. Boys like Mikey never look at me, usually."

"I look at you."

Your breath hitches in your chest. It's like your heart has forgotten how to beat.

"Yeah," you whisper. "But you're Steve."

After a moment, you add,

"My Steve."

You rest your head onto his bicep, still clutching his hand. He leans down to press a kiss into your hair, resting his cheek there for a moment.

"You're worlds apart from boys like Mikey, Steve. He's nice, but he's not you."

You're not sure where all this sudden truth is coming from, but you're wondering if the cherry vodka has maybe hit you a little harder than you first thought.

"And you and Minnie Lawson aren't even in the same league. You've got nothing to worry about."

You both process Steve's words, before he starts stuttering.

"I mean, not that you, not that - it's not like you were worried, I'm sure. I bet you weren't. I just mean... you know what I mean, right?

Thankfully, you do.

"I know what you mean. I always do."

He stops walking, turning to face you on the sidewalk, hand never dropping yours. You're not sure where you are, but you know Steve knows. He'll keep you safe. Always.

"Okay," he breathes.

"Okay," you breathe.

"I love you," he breathes.

"I love you," you breathe.

"I don't want you to date Mikey Carter," he breathes.

"I don't want you to date Minnie Lawson," you breathe.

You both inhale deeply, following the other person's lead.

"I can't stop thinking about the other night," Steve whispers, so quietly you'd have missed if it you weren't so in tune with him.

Your lungs constrict for a second, all the air leaving you at once.

"Me neither."

You're stood in the street whispering to each other, frightened you'll burst the bubble you've accidentally created.

"I feel bad," you confess.

"Why, honey?"

"Because I... I didn't return the favour. I just let you get into bed and fall asleep. Sorry."

Steve's hands come up to cradle your face, eyes searching yours as if he's reading his favourite book.

"I didn't want you to. I told you, it wasn't about me, it was about you. I didn't... I didn't initiate it so I could get something in return."

"Sorry."

"Stop apologising, Cherry. You've got nothing to apologise for."

"Sorry," you reply without thinking, causing both of you to double over into fits of laughter.

Steve wipes the happy tears from your cheeks, gaze never leaving yours. You look at each other for a moment, feeling the atmosphere shift. The world could collapse around you both, and neither of you would notice. It's just you and Steve. Nothing more, nothing less.

He leans in gently, pressing his lips to yours in a featherlight kiss. He tastes like beer and spearmint.

"You're wearing your lipbalm."

"You've been chewing your gum."

He chuckles, kissing you again softly.

"You wanna go home?"

"Please. You're in your socks, and I look like a clown."

He looks at your feet and laughs, the sound much too loud for the early hours of a Sunday morning.

"Let's go, Cherry baby. My warm bed awaits us."

The stars guide you home hand in hand, Steve stealing the occasional kiss when you happen to be looking in his direction. You kick off his shoes by the door, running straight up the stairs to change out of your uncomfortable dress. Steve stops by the kitchen to grab you both a glass of water, bounding up after you and spilling half the liquid in the process.

He stops in the doorway when he reaches his room, breath caught in his throat. You're stood in just your panties, bare back to him, rifling through his drawers to find the soft grey shirt you always steal.

It's a sight he's seen before. Something is different this time.

"Where is it?" you ask, not turning around.

You know he's there. You know he knows what you're looking for.

This is what love is, he thinks suddenly. The knowing. The unknowing. The knowing that the other person knows. The other person knowing that you know. Unspoken knowledge.

"Bottom drawer, left," he chokes out. "Washed it."

You slip it on and turn around, pouting. The boy quirks a brow at you in question.

"Doesn't smell like you. Smells like your detergent, but not you. Will you wear it, when I leave?"

"Yeah," he chuckles, fighting the blush from rising across his chest. "Anything you want, baby."

Steve shrugs off his clothes, slipping on a fresh pair of boxers before sliding into his side of the bed. You're in the bathroom, humming a tune that he can't quite place but knows he heard tonight. He watches you through the open door as you sway gently, ready to jump up and catch you if need be. You pee with the door still open, and Steve chuckles. It's like you've been married for twenty years.

"Can you please turn the fan on? I'm hot."

"Anything for you, Cherry Pie."

You jump into your side of the bed, sitting up to face the boy next to you. It might be 3am, but you're both wide awake, veins buzzing with endless possibility.

"I've been thinking," you murmur quietly.

"Never a good sign."

"Shut up."

You both laugh, and you can't help but grin. What a miracle, you think. To be alive at the same time as a boy like Steve Harrington. To know him. To love him.

"Will you let me return the favour?"

It's a vague question, but Steve knows exactly what you're asking. He chokes on his breath, tilting his head to look at you.

"Babe, you don't have to-"

"-I want to. So badly."

Steve inhales deeply, willing himself to calm down.

"I don't have to, if you don't want me to. But I can't stop thinking about the way you'd taste."

The boy thinks he's died and gone to heaven. Dreaming, maybe.

"Honey... fuck."

Steve nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Please. Jesus."

He's breathing so frantically, you're worried he might pass out. The last thing you need is your best friend unconscious.

"Breathe, Stevie. It's just me and you."

"Me and you."

"Always."

He comes back down to Earth, so you lean in to kiss him, all tender and cherry flavoured. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you push him backwards so he's leaning against the headboard. You straddle his hips, plush lips pressing into his neck, his chest, his collarbones. Steve's practically melting, a puddle of love and affection beneath you.

"Let me take care of you," you whisper into his ear, and who is he to deny you when you ask so sweet?

You crawl down his body until you're situated between his legs, thick thighs bracketing you in. You kiss along the inside of the muscle, nipping as you go and revelling in the way he jumps and hisses. It's nice to be the one in charge for once.

You scratch your nails along the bulge in his boxers, smirking when his hips buck up into you. You think, for a moment, that you'd happily lie here and tease him like this for hours, just to see when he'd snap. But this isn't the time for games, so you store that thought for another day.

"This still okay?"

"More than okay," he replies, all breathy and ungrounded. You link your fingers with his and squeeze, and all his nerves melt away.

You don't let yourself begin to think about why he's nervous. You know Steve's a ladies man, you know he's done this many times... so why is it different with you? You wonder if maybe you should talk about it afterwards. You're not sure if either of you are ready for that.

Mouthing at him over his underwear, you hum in contentment at his warmth. He's always run hot, every part of him. It's one of your favourite things.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug them down, throwing them onto the floor somewhere. The room is dimly lit by the lamp on the nightstand, the lightbulb casting shadows across Steve's slightly sweat damp skin. The fan acts as a soundtrack, white noise breaking up the silence.

You look at him and bite your lip, buzzing with anticipation. It's not like you haven't seen each other naked before, but it's different like this.

"Just... tell me what you like or what you don't like as I go along, okay?"

Steve smiles in adoration, running his thumb over your cheekbone gently.

"Okay."

You wrap your hand around him and curl your wrist, holding back a smirk when the boy whines. It's a pretty sound. You'd like to hear it again and again until he loses his voice.

Leaning in, you lick up the length of him, groaning at the salty musk. His taste, his scent, his sounds... it's all so Steve. He's the centre of your universe, everything around you just Steve Steve Steve.

Taking him fully into your mouth, a hand flies into your hair, tangling his fingers. He doesn't move you, just tethers himself to something real, something grounding. You take him as much as you can, working up a rhythm between your tongue and your hand. Steve's breathing as if he's just ran a marathon, chest heaving and lungs burning.

He finds his voice, suddenly.

"Oh fuck, baby."

"Shit, Cherry. Fuck, just like that."

"That's it, atta girl. Perfect girl. My girl."

"Oh, you're so good. So fucking good."

He tenses, fingers tightening in your hair once again.

"So close, baby. Don't stop. Please."

You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist in that way you've figured out he likes as you hollow your cheeks and suck. The boy sees stars, vision going white.

The noise he lets out as he finishes will be forever engrained in your mind, a never ending symphony that no orchestra could ever recreate.

He goes lax, collapsing back against the bed as you swallow, never breaking eye contact. You stick your tongue out as proof and he groans, deep and gutteral.

"Kiss me," he chokes, too blissed out to move.

You crawl up his body and press your lips to his, squeaking in surprise when he slips his tongue into your mouth to taste himself.

"Filthy," you laugh, resting your forehead against his.

"You love it."

You shake your head, but can't wipe the grin from your face.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

After a second, you giggle.

"What's funny?"

"I'd like to see Minnie Lawson do that."

Steve laughs, loud and melodic in the low light of the room.

"She's got nothing on you, Cherry baby. No one does."

You process the words, heart stuttering in your chest.

"We should talk about this," you whisper.

"We will," he assures, tugging you into him so your head is resting on his chest. "Tomorrow."

Lines have been crossed, lives have been changed, but the stars above your heads remain the same. They'll always guide you back to Steve.

The lamp flickers, the fan hums, the crickets sing their night time lullabies.

The boy leans down to press his lips to yours. He tastes like cherries and every kiss for the rest of your life.

@allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @enigmaticloki

[corroded-hellfire]

From one ginger to the other I absolutely adore the as you wish series! <3

I was wondering if you could do something where the reader goes out with Nancy for brunch for the first time after having Eliza. And her alcohol tolerance is obviously lower than pre-Eliza. And she gets quite tipsy, and Eddie has to pick her up, and she's all over him and just spewing nonsense about how much she loves him and their family.

And she admits how much she loved having his baby, and Eddie is just totally smitten as she just keeps going on and on.

Anything for a fellow ginger! This is silly and cute and I hope you like it 🥰

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexy talk

[As You Wish masterlist]

The sun brings warmth to the breezy spring day as you finish up your brunch with Nancy. It’s the first time the two of you have gotten to do this since you gave birth to Eliza. You had been aware that things would change drastically after giving birth, but you hadn’t even realized how long it had been since you and Nancy had a girl’s day until she invited you a few days ago. 

Mimosas seemed like a perfect way to celebrate when you arrived, but by the time you had finished your second glass along with your French toast, it was too late to remember that your tolerance was lower now. 

“Same thing happened after I had Danny,” Nancy tells you as you take a long sip from your water glass. “Steve and I went to a work party, and we had to leave after I had one vodka cranberry.”

“I don’t feel drunk,” you tell your friend, the lightness in your head giving you a pleasant buzz of happiness on top of the already enjoyable day. “Just tipsy. But I know I can’t drive like this. I’ll go call Eddie.”

“Are you sure?” Nancy offers. “I can just drive you home.”

You shake your head as you carefully push yourself up from the cushioned chair. 

“No, it’s okay. Wayne’s over so he can stay with the kids.” 

It is the truth, but the main reason you want Eddie to pick you up is because you really want to see your husband right now. Like a pregnancy craving for food turned into a yearning for a person, you feel as if your hands are not on Eddie within the next few minutes, you’re going to lose your mind. It’s all you can think about as you put one foot in front of the other as you walk inside the restaurant from your porch table.

The hostess shows you to a phone and your fingers eagerly skip over the familiar numbers for your home.

“Hello?”

Just the sound of his voice sends a chill throughout your body—one the warm spring day outside could never eradicate. 

“Hi, Eddie,” you say. Even you can hear the smile in your voice.

“What, baby? Are you okay?” The concern in Eddie’s voice does nothing to help the burning deep within you.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you tell him. “I had a, uh, couple of mimosas with lunch and I did not realize my alcohol tolerance would be this low after having Eliza since I haven’t drank in a while.”

There’s an exhale of relief on the other end of the phone. Eliza babbling in the background and Luke’s raucous laughter has you grinning into the mouthpiece you’re clutching on to. 

“I’ll be right there, okay?” Eddie assures you. “We’ll get your car later.”

“Okay!”

Eddie chuckles at your carefree attitude and can only imagine how cute you look right now, all smiley and bubbly. 

“I’ll see you soon, princess.”

“Okay! Bye.”

When you get back to the table, amongst the empty plates and discarded silverware, you see that Nancy has already paid the whole bill and you give her a soft glare.

“What?” she asks innocently, large eyes making it even more convincing. “I’m pretty sure you paid last time.”

“Uh huh,” you mumble as she stands up and grabs her purse. “I’m sure you remember that from, like, a year ago.”

No response from Nancy on that, she just gives you a wink and loops her arm through yours. The two of you walk arm-in-arm out to the parking lot in front of the restaurant. 

Nancy’s car is parked in the shade so there’s a coolness on your backside as you rest against the trunk of the silver Lexus. Your friend tugs a little on the cream-colored sweater she’s wearing but you wish you had Eddie’s arms around you to keep you warm. Thoughts of Eddie’s arms lead to thoughts of his hands all over you and you’re unable to keep a dreamy little hum from slipping out.

“Thinking about Eddie?” Nancy asks, though the amusement on her face says she already knows the answer.

“I’m always thinking about Eddie,” you admit with a shrug. 

“God, you two are adorable,” Nancy says, mostly to herself. 

A squeal of excitement and you hopping off the car in excitement lets the brunette next to you know that Eddie’s truck has pulled into the parking lot. It’s her clue even before the metal music can be heard soaring out of the open windows. 

Eddie leaves one hand on the steering wheel and uses the other to turn the volume dial down as he slows the truck down right behind Nancy’s car. He lifts an eyebrow and looks you up and down appreciatively. 

“Need a ride, gorgeous?” he asks.

The giggle that tumbles out of your lips has both your best friend and your husband smiling as he puts the truck in park and steps out of the car. As soon as he walks back around the bed, you throw yourself at Eddie, who catches you and lets out a surprised huff of laughter.

“Hello to you, too,” he says. Protective as always, he wraps a sturdy arm around your waist to make sure you’re steady before he looks over at Nancy. “She wasn’t any trouble, was she?”

“Nope,” Nancy says. “Ate her vegetables and went to bed on time.”

“Hey!” You pout, looking back and forth between the two of them. “I’m the babysitter, not the baby. I mean…I was the babysitter. Now I’m the Mommy.”

Your two compatriots share an amused smile before Nancy gives you a wave and gets in her car. Eddie leads you over to the passenger’s side of the truck. You have no intention of letting him go though, so you wrap your arms around his neck so he’s leaning over you in the seat.

“Uh, babe?” he says with a chuckle before realizing it’s better to just humor you. 

Rapid fire kisses get smacked all over your face which has you squirming on the spot and gets you to loosen your grip on your husband’s neck. But the moment Eddie climbs in the driver’s seat and closes the door, you lean over the center console to grab at him again. 

“Sweetheart,” he says with a laugh, amused at your touchiness, “I have to drive us home.”

Silently, you decide that’s okay because that’s where your babies are, so you let go and slip back into your own seat. The older man puts the truck into gear as you buckle your seatbelt and then he pulls out of the parking lot, onto the main road.

It’s quiet only for a matter of seconds before you speak again.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“We have the cutest family ever.”

Eddie nods his head in agreement, trying to keep his laughter inside lest you think he’s laughing at you.

“Absolutely,” he agrees.

“And it’s because you’re so cute!” you gush, throwing your hands in the air with a dramatic flourish that Luke would be proud of. “What do Ryan, Luke, and Eliza all have in common? Your genes! That’s why they’re so stinkin’ adorable.” You sigh dreamily and rest your head against the headrest as you gaze at your husband. “You’re such a DILF.”

Eddie can’t help but let out a bark of laughter at that and looks your way as you pull up to a red light. Glee dances in his eyes as he tilts his head. 

“Isn’t that ‘Dad I’d like to fuck?’” he asks. “You have fucked me, baby. Many, many times.”

“Fine. You’re a DIHF.” The different pronunciation has a raspberry blowing out of your mouth at the end of the word. “‘Dad I have fucked.’”

This is the most entertained I have been in so long, Eddie thinks to himself as the light turns green. It only reinforces the insane amount of love he has for you, and he feels the need to reach over and hold your hand. Luckily, yours is resting on your thigh now so he does just that. Softly, his thumb begins to stroke the back of your hand. 

“M’so happy, Eddie.”

“Good,” he says, “I’m glad you had a good time with Nancy. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten to go out.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I mean, yes, I am happy because I got to spend time with Nancy today but that’s not what I was talking about. I meant that I’m so happy cause I got you and the boys and little Liza. Best things that ever happened to me.”

“I feel the same way, princess.”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I really, really loved having your baby.”

Eddie can’t help the big grin that stretches across his face at your words. God, he could never hear that enough from you. 

“I had something that was half you and half me growing inside me,” you explain as if Eddie doesn’t know what being pregnant entails. “It felt crazy. But like, a good way. Like, I couldn’t believe it was happening. A little piece of you right here.” Your free hand pats your lower abdomen and when Eddie glances over he sees you looking down at that part of your body.

“I wanna do it again.”

Eddie almost swerves off the road at those words.

“Huh?” he asks, hand tightening on yours.

“I wanna have your baby again! I mean, not right now. Fucking hell, my vagina would fall out having babies so close together like that. Ow.”

“Jesus Christ, I love you,” Eddie raves. “But yeah, we don’t want your vagina falling out. Pretty sure we both really, really like that part of you.”

A sly smile grows on your lips as Eddie turns the truck into your neighborhood. You know it’s a little mean to turn your husband on when you’re about to go home to a house full of kids and his uncle, but you just can’t help it. You’re having fun and it’s alcohol-induced and Eddie’s done way worse things while under the influence. 

“Well,” you start innocently, “maybe if my vagina hurt you could kiss it better?”

“Fuck,” Eddie growls, glancing over at you. “Really gonna do this now?”

The maniacal giggle you let out already has Eddie forgiving you, his heart soaring with how much love he feels. He’d let you tease him and taunt him until the end of time. And God knows you’re the only one allowed to. But that makes it even better, Eddie thinks, because then he gets a pass to act as an over-protective asshole once in a while when the jealousy monster rears its ugly head. It’s a fair trade you can both live with. And if Eddie’s cross to bear is you getting him all worked up when there’s no time to do anything about it, he thinks he’s pretty damn lucky. 

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader[4.3K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+

SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE

LESSON #2

[Six Months Before]

Steve Harrington was standing in Tammy Thompson’s backyard, bumping his knuckles against Eddie’s as the boy approached with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand.

Eddie had dragged you out, brown eyes pleading as per, promising he’d score big at this party and he’d definitely buy you a burger and shake with his takings on the way home. Midnight, he’d said, swear it, he’d said. But the clock in Tammy’s moms kitchen was ticking towards one o’clock and when Eddie spotted Steve - and Jonathan Byers - out by the pool, you’d made the decision to hang back.

They were too close to the water, the lagoon shaped pool lit up in the night by an underwater glow, yellow-white spotlights that made sure you could see just how deep it was. There were some girls hanging close by, dresses and skirts rucked up their thighs and their shoes long lost as they dipped their legs into the bright blue water, pink lips around cherry vodka bottles and their eyes on the boys - a potential ride home in more ways than one.

“M’not gonna let you just fall into the pool,” Eddie had frowned when you’d told him you’d wait inside. “Who even does that anyway? You’re not wasted enough for that sweetheart.”

And you weren’t. Barely tipsy, actually. 

But the pool took up most of the patio space and other people were drunk, stumbling around the yard and trying to dance to the music that came from the open kitchen door. The water was too much, too deep, too blue, too dark.

And Steve Harrington was too pretty and intimidating - but you didn’t tell Eddie that part.

Jonathan spotted you over Eddie’s shoulder and waved, smiling kindly before he said something that made Eddie’s eyes light up with excitement. And that was okay because Jonathan was quiet and sweet and always polite to you, commenting on the books he’d see you reading when he passed you in town and sometimes he’d bump into you during Eddie’s hellfire meetings, passing as he picked up his little brother.

Steve, you didn’t see as much. Only from afar, usually. He was quieter than he’d been in high school, crownless and a little softer around the edges than when you sat two rows behind him in Mrs Click’s class. But Robin had a lot of things to say about him, gentle ribbing that was always wrapped in a fondness anyone with eyes could see and for a while, you thought that maybe they were a thing until Robin had vehemently told you that they were everything but.

Platonic with a capital P, she’d told you, popping the last letter and hiding the burn in her cheeks. 

But still, you knew he gave her rides to work before he drove himself to the pool, acting oblivious and almost uncomfortable when the hoards of freshman girls made a point to pick the loungers closest to the lifeguard tower. 

Not that you’d ever seen such a thing. But Robin liked to poke fun and Eddie was a bigger gossip than the cheerleader he used to date during his sophomore year. 

So really, you had once mused, there wasn’t really any reason to be so avoidant of Steve Harrington now. Except, once you finally admitted to yourself you had an awfully bad crush on him, that was excuse enough. He would nod and smile politely at you when he ran into you and Eddie around town, at the mall, in the crowds at parties. And on good days, you’d smile back, lips thin and tight in an overly polite grimace of some sort but neither of you attempted to make conversation with each other. Any awkward silences were filled by your mutual friend, Eddie talking loudly and animatedly about whatever topic came to mind, his curls and his laugh both big enough to patch over any uncomfortable silences.

So when a few minutes passed with you staring into your drink, watching the ice cubes melt into whatever concoction Eddie had handed you, you didn’t expect Steve to appear beside you. He was busying himself with the stack of beers on the kitchen counter beside you, but he cleared his throat all the same, unsure about it as he gained your attention. But he was looking at you, purposeful, as if his elbow softly knocking yours wasn’t an accident. 

His gaze was still holding yours as he popped the cap off of a bottle of bud light lime, the cap hitting the floor. You blinked at him, eyes only straying for a second to see that Eddie was still out by the pool talking to Johnathan and some other guy you didn’t know. Brows furrowed, you turned back, lips parting to ask if everything was okay, because why else would Steve Harrington be looking at you. 

But then he was talking, smiling sweet and kind and holding a little of that confidence you knew back in school. It was still there, that self assurance that he had years ago, but it was muted, a boldness that wasn’t quite dimmed but definitely softened. It made him seem even more intimidating, prettier with his messier hair and scruff along his jaw, his clothes less tight and pressed. 

“You doin’ okay?” 

You blinked again, wondering if he really was talking to you. But there was no one else around and you gripped your cup a little tighter, nodding before you could make a fool of yourself. “Me? Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve shrugged, smiling as he took a sip from his beer and he gestured out to the patio, to the pool and to Eddie who was grinning at you. “Just wondered why you weren’t coming out, that’s all. You’re normally glued to Munson.”

You scrunched your nose, cheeks warming because he wasn’t wrong, but the reminder of how close you usually stuck to Eddie made you feel younger, childlike. 

“It’s not like… that,” you explained, although you weren’t sure why you were bothering. “Us. Eddie and I- it’s not like we’re together, or anything.” You immediately regretted your words, the explanation feeling thick and clumsy on your tongue and your neck was burning, heat creeping up along your jaw.

Steve was still smiling, grin hid behind his beer and his brows were raised. He looked amused, nodding as you stumbled around each word and when you frowned, gulping down your watery cranberry and vodka, he grinned wider. “Yeah, no-- I know,” Steve assured you. He shrugged, “still, thanks for the clarification. S’good to know.”

You never found out what he meant by that, if he was being funny or just friendly, if he was flirting and genuinely interested. A neighbour called the cops and Eddie grabbed you before they could come through the front door, boosting you up by the foot so you could both scramble over the back fence. Steve had left with Jonathan and his girlfriend Nancy, the three of them running to Steve’s car just as Chief Hopper started yelling at the drunk kids left behind and you hadn’t so much as glanced back at each other for fear of being dragged home in the back of a cop car. 

The next time you’d spent any real time with Steve Harrington, well. You’d been sinking to the bottom of the lake.  

You were standing by the closed gate of the community pool at seven am sharp, the obnoxiously large lock stopping you from entering - despite the rip in the chain link fence to your right. 

You weren’t waiting long, even though you would’ve happily stayed on the other side of the lot for as long as required. The air was already warming, the scent of chlorine and leftover sunscreen surrounding you, mixing with the sound of the cicadas, the early morning sprinklers from the houses across the road. Then Steve was jogging towards you, one big hand clutching a rolled up towel and a set of keys and his cheeks were pink from his efforts, his sliders slapping on the concrete and he looked apologetic as he approached. 

“M’really sorry, car had a flat,” he huffed. “Would’ve left earlier if I knew I was walking.”

It was harder to look him in the eye after last week. Once the initial fear that had a vice grip on you loosened - if only slightly - it was easier to become so aware of how close you’d been to Steve. A whole morning spent half clothed and wet, his hands on you at all times, gentle and guiding as he coaxed you to walk around the shallow end of the pool. He’d been nothing but a gentleman about it, professional at all times with his hands either in yours or bracing your arms, never straying anywhere they shouldn’t, even if you’d caught his eyes going just that, maybe once or twice. 

You pulled at the collar of your t-shirt as Steve busied himself with the padlock, the air so much stickier now that he was close by. “It’s okay,” you told him. “I’m not in a rush.”

Steve snorted and it shouldn’t have been an attractive sound as it was. His eyes crinkled in amusement, mirth in them as he glanced down at you from under his lashes. He still looked soft from bed, hair mussed and a five o’clock shadow across his jaw that suited him too well. His lifeguard shirt was sunbleached and threadbare, the red shorts he wore smaller than his last pair, the material well above his knees. He was more sunkissed than last weekend, freckles on the bridge of his nose, cheeks stained a permanent blush. 

“Was your first lesson that bad?” He asked.

You burned, not knowing what to say, not wanting to offend him, not when he was looking at you like that. 

“No,” you squirmed. The lock was open now but neither of you moved. “I mean, yeah, but not— not as bad as I thought. It was okay.”

Steve  grinned like he knew something you didn’t, nodding slowly as he held the gate for you. “It was okay,” he repeated back, “I’ll take it.”

The pool was as blue and as intimidating as the first week, the generator humming and the filter trickling softly as you walked around it, giving the edge a wide berth. If Steve saw you frown and the dark blue depths, he didn’t say anything. Instead, you both dropped your towels and bags on a lounger and the boy didn’t so much as blush as he stripped off his shirt, throwing it alongside everything else. 

“You wanna get changed?” He asked, already busying himself with pulling some floats out of a shelving unit. “I’ll get everything sorted and you can—”

You were stripping off your own shirt before Steve could finish his sentence, the words getting stuck in his throat as you revealed the same old black swimsuit underneath your clothes. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen already, but you couldn’t help but feel flustered as you popped the button of your shorts, the denim dragging down your hips. You didn’t look at him as they slid off your legs, your feet clumsy as you tried to toe off your sneakers and step out of your shorts all at once. 

Steve was pink, even if you didn’t see it, his whole body turning from you abruptly as he decided what else he might need to take from storage. A pool noodle fell to the floor as you bundled up your clothes and chucked them onto the chair, both of you decidedly not looking at each. 

“Uh, right.” Steve dragged a hand through his hair, the soft ends immediately falling back across his forehead. He looked like he’d already caught most of the morning’s sun as he finally glanced at you, the tips of his ears a little pink. “Let's get started.”

—————

Your arms were crossed over your chest as you stood waist deep in the pool, partly for a little cleavage cover, mostly because you were cold. Your skin had prickled as you entered the water the same way as last time, step by step into the shallows, with Steve by your side. He didn’t hold your hands, but one of his hovered by your elbow the whole way down, ready to catch you if you stumbled, if you felt less than brave. 

He murmured soft encouragement the whole way down, a new praise falling from his lips at each stair and when you made it onto the pool floor, he’d grinned. 

“Look at you go, we’ll have you swimming lengths in no time.”

You couldn’t work out if he was joking or not, and the idea of going to the other end of the pool was enough to make your stomach churn, the lucky charms you’d shovelled into your mouth before leaving turning acidic. Still, you grinned - grimaced, maybe - and made a strange noise at the back of your throat. Steve thought it was supposed to be a laugh. 

“Ha— yeah, sure, maybe in a while.”

So Steve just smiled and left it at that. Then he was wading a little deeper, the water moving from his upper thighs and soaking his shorts, the cherry red turning scarlet, a deeper colour that you couldn’t help but stare at and then the pool swallowed his lower body, the ripples catching around his hip bones. 

He was facing you as he moved, arms out and hands coaxing, encouraging you to follow and when he saw the look of panic in your face, he stopped walking. “Hey, hey,” his voice was soft, just like the morning. It was all hazy skies, a blue-lavender fuzz and the trickle of water, the smell of chlorine and sunscreen and Steve Harrington’s wide, brown eyes. “Look, yeah? We’re not going any deeper than this, I promise. ‘N I’m right here.”

You remembered how you told him you trusted him, just seven days ago. How he’d told you in return that he’d come get you, just like he had before. It felt rude to question the man who’d once saved your life but still, you hesitated, arms still curled around your chest like you could anchor yourself to that spot. 

But then Steve held out his hand, palm up and resting on top of the surface. The blue of the pool made his skin look even more tanned, sunkissed and glittering with droplets of water, beads of it sliding off of his forearm, pooling in the middle of his hand. He wiggled his fingers at you. 

You didn’t even know you were reaching out to him until his hand curled around yours, bigger and wider and warmer despite the way you were still adjusting to the colder temperature. The sticky heat of the morning air didn’t do much for the large pool, the water still nipping at your skin as you moved through it. 

“There you go,” Steve praised, smiling wide and earnest as you took a step. “There she is, ladies and gents, Hawkins next high diver—”

You scoffed, eyes rolling and cheeks sore when you grinned, unable to help it. But you were still moving, baby steps towards Steve and the gasp that left your lips as the water crept up towards the line of your belly button was due more to the cold than the depth. 

Steve held your hand tightly, a solid grip, your own kind of anchor. 

“Alright, see?” He was beaming, eyes squinting through the rays of the sun that bounced off the surface and he was too pretty with it, painted in the reflections of the ripples and stripes of rainbow. “You did it, you’re killing this.”

You didn’t point out that you hadn’t technically done any real swimming yet, but the fact you were standing further into the pool than you were seven days ago felt momentous. Eddie had spent countless summers trying to even coax you inside the property line, sunscreen smeared on his nose and pleading in his eyes. 

“You still trust me?” Steve asked, eyes bright and earnest and god, it was impossible to say no. So you nodded, throat feeling a little thick and the words lost behind your teeth but you did and you meant it. And that only made Steve smile wider. “Good. We’re gonna practice floating, okay?”

The idea of it made your chest feel heavy, a sure fire sign that it wasn’t going to go as well as Steve had planned. Letting the water take control of your weight seemed impossible and the task of taking your feet off of the solid tiles at the bottom of the pool was nightmare inducing. But Steve was moving closer, his hand still in yours and his free one grazing your spine. His fingertips skimmed over your back, guiding you in front of him and turning you to the side as he spoke the whole time. 

“It’s easy, right?” He explained, your shoulder brushing his bare chest and you tried not to think about it all too much, tried not to panic despite the way your heart was thundering so hard it was a wonder Steve couldn’t hear your ribs rattle and crack. “M’gonna help, I won’t let you go, I promise. You just gotta let yourself lie back, just a little. I’ll help you do the rest.”

You laughed at him, his words, his positivity that was brighter and warmer than the whole of June and July. It was a gasping, mocking thing, a laugh that got stuck in your throat and the mere suggestion of letting your body fall backwards into the pool was enough to make your eyes dart for the safety of the stairs. 

“I— I can’t. I can’t do that,” you told him, eyes wide and head shaking furiously. “That’s just— no. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Maybe you tried to move away, to take a step towards the shallow edge of the pool, or maybe you only imagined you did. Because Steve’s hand was flat against the curve of your back and his palm nearly took up the whole god damn space there. His fingers curled around your own, his thumb running over the bumps of your knuckles. Steve bent a little, knees folding under the water to bring his face down level with your own and he looked so serious when he said: 

“Hey, listen, alright? I know it’s scary. But I promise you, I won’t let you go. You’re not going to go under.” He licked his lips, eyes searching yours for signs of panic, fear, flight. “I won’t let you go under the water, I swear.”

So you stayed, rooted to the spot but there nonetheless. And with a jerky nod, Steve’s hand squeezed your own and he moved into you. You felt his knees bump under your thighs, rough with coarse hair and lined with more muscle than you had, his hips bumping against the side of you. Suddenly the water didn’t feel as cold as before, the sharp chill of it gone. 

“I just want your to bend your legs, okay? Just a little and then let your feet come up. M’gonna support your back. And remember, you can stand here, yeah? S’not deep, you can stand right back up.”

You mumbled something, confirmation maybe, a curse perhaps, aimed at Steve or Eddie, you weren’t sure. You about your friend who was probably still in his bed, face down and oblivious to the situation he’d once again coaxed you into. But you also remembered how he’d been knee deep in the lake as Steve pulled you out, eyes wide and terrified as he prepared to throw himself into the black water to find you too. 

You lifted one foot, a mere stretch onto your toes, really, but Steve hummed in approval and his hand pressed into your back a little more, a silent promise that he was still there to catch you. 

One foot came off of the pool floor. 

“Thatta’ girl,” Steve whispered and he was close. So close, close enough for the words to feel warm against your temple and you could feel his gaze on the side of your face, watching, waiting. “I’ve got you.”

Another foot came off the tiles. 

You dipped, just a little, just for a second, your shoulders submerging and a shocked gasp ripping from the back of your throat before Steve’s hand on your back was pushing you upwards. You tried to fight it, legs kicking awkwardly until Steve was pushing you again, upupup, and your body broke out of the water, shoulders and back and butt flat against the top of the surface. 

“Keep your legs out straight,” Steve instructed, “let me take your weight, breathe in and out, keep calm.”

It all seemed too much to do at once. 

Your hand was a vice grip around Steve’s, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was watching you, gaze studious and gentle, nodding almost to himself as you tried to do as he told you. Your legs straightened out and stopped kicking, the warm air kissing your shins above the water, your chest shuddering as you sucked in a breath. 

“Uhuh, that’s it. Now just lie back for me, s’alright, I’ve got all of you.”

You choked out a laugh, a cynical sound and Steve’s eyes found yours. You were shaking slightly as you tried to relax, trying to drop your shoulders back into the water. “All of me? You been hitting the gym, Harrington?”

The joke was weak sounding, especially when your lip wobbled too but Steve grinned all the same. The hand on your back moved down a little, settling in the curve there, just above your ass. 

“Thanks for noticing,” he replied softly, a teasing lilt to his voice, a smirk in his smile. “Eddie never compliments me.”

You laughed again, louder this time but just as harsh sounding as before. The water was filling your ears as you lay back, a cold rush to the back of your head and neck as you finally flattened yourself out. 

“What a shit friend,” you managed to choke back. 

Steve let go of your hand with a soft murmur of assurance, quickly placing it beside his other one, both palms supporting your frame. His touch was a delicate thing, the width of each hand encasing your back, keeping you afloat. He was the warmest thing in the water. 

“Right?” Steve whispered, afraid to break the quiet, the spell that you were under. Your eyes were wide and on the sky as you lay there, watching the blue and the pink coloured clouds that were making their way over town. “You’re gonna have to have words with him.”

You nodded before realising the movement made your chin dip, your balance wavering. Your arms that had been floating at your sides tried to claw at something, anything, for purchase but found none and fear seized at your chest again. 

“You’re okay,” Steve told you. “Another deep breath in— there you go. Now, keep your chest and tummy pushed out, okay? Keep it all above the surface, chin up, legs straight, you got it.”

And you did, kinda. The panic that made your chest tight loosened its grip as you let out the breath you’d been holding onto so fiercely. Your legs felt lighter once you stopped fighting the drag of them, your arms floating out to your sides, the back of your right hand brushing Steve’s stomach and you felt the muscles in his abdomen tense. But your eyes were fluttering, lashes blinking against your cheeks as you just let yourself be, your body floating, the cool water lapping at your neck, your face. 

Steve’s hands were sure and steady on your back, never leaving or faltering. In fact they steered you away from the wall and kept you pushed to the surface, gently guiding and encouraging. They made your body feel warmer than the water did, the sun on your front, a dry heat that shone over your face and chest, rainbow spots in your vision and his palms were just as hot under the water. 

He murmured nonsense as he let you balance on his fingertips, always encouraging and soft, pretty praises that made your toes curl into the pool and when he saw the way you trusted him, the way you let him hold you, he stopped talking altogether. 

It was just you and Steve and the water under the sun. 

Fingers danced a line along your spine, one set between your shoulder blades, the other holding you up from the small of your back and it was a shockingly intimate touch, especially when his skin found your own between the straps of your bathing suit. 

Something told you that it would be a bad idea to open your eyes, but Eddie told you bad ideas had good outcomes all of the time. So you did just that, blinking against the sun that was rising as the morning moved on, the sky turning bluer and brighter, but not nearly as warm as Steve’s gaze. 

He was looking down at you, his knees still bent and the water lapping at his chest, his face much closer than you realised. He was smiling, a soft thing that made your heart thunder loud enough to travel through the water, a steady drumbeat in your ears. And when the boy realised you were looking too, his cheeks turned that pretty pink colour, a cotton candy blush that you couldn’t help but stare at and he nodded, clearing his throat before he spoke. 

“You’re doin’ great.”

The water filter trickled somewhere in the background, the sound of someone’s car door slamming in the distance. Apart from that, it was just Steve’s voice over your drum kit of a heart. It took a while for you to nod, water slipping over your chin and lips, tongue licking away chlorine. 

“I’ve got a really good teacher,” you replied. 

[novacorpsrecruit]

Care to Dance?

Inspired by @imfinereallyy’s post

Robin, Steve and Eddie planned this night for weeks. They drove up to Indianapolis to spend the evening at the gay bar. A place where they could be themselves and not worry.

Steve took a shot of vodka before turning around at the bar, facing the dance floor. He could see Robin speed talking to a girl about Nancy’s height, the girl gently playing with the edge of Robin’s jacket.

Eddie … well, he looked hot as ever. He was playing billiards in the corner of the bar with another guy, showing him how to angle the cue just right for the perfect hit. Steve could feel jealousy in the pit of his stomach, but he knew he wasn’t Eddie’s type.

Steve’s been harmlessly flirting with Eddie, putting himself out there on the ledge, only for Eddie to talk about some other guy he met in Indy. Steve wondered if this was the guy. If Eddie had planned this night so he could see his guy. It wasn’t wrong if he did. Steve just wished he knew so he could prepare himself for the heartbreak.

He knew Eddie wasn’t his, so it really shouldn’t be a problem, right?

“Hey, baby,” a deep voice said hotly against the shell for his ear. “How come a pretty thing like you is all alone tonight?”

“I’m not alone,” Steve said, turning to face the man — to face the dark, brown eyes, the devilish grin. “Not anymore. You want a drink?”

“I’d much rather see you on the dance floor,” the man said, lifting his chin. His grin still plastered across His face. “Or are you more interested in staring at that metalhead?”

“No, I’d like to. Dance, I mean,” Steve said, feeling his cheeks heat up. He didn’t realize he was that obvious for Eddie. The man put his hand on the small of Steve’s back as he lead him out to the dance floor. It started out innocent at first, arms raised, slowly wrapping around each other’s body as they danced to Depeche Mode. Eventually, Steve had his back pressed up against the man’s front. The man pressed a hot kiss against Steve’s skin. Suddenly, Steve realized he didn’t know the man’s name.

“I’m Steve,” he said, a little loud to be heard over the music.

“Dan — Hey!”

Steve felt Dan’s body yanked away from him. Steve turned to see Eddie standing in between him and Dan, now on the ground. He felt someone grab his arm, he yanked it — before realizing it was Robin holding onto him.

“What the fuck is your problem?” Dan spat.

“You,” Eddie snarled back, venom on his tongue. “You’re dancing on my friend.”

“Eddie —“

“Steve, I got it,” Eddie said over his shoulder, before turning his attention to Dan. “What gives you the right to dance on him like that?”

“I did,” Steve snapped, pulling himself out of Robin’s grip and stepping in front of Eddie. “He asked me to dance and I said yes. What gives, Eddie? What are you doing?”

“Protecting you,” Eddie wrinkled his brow, like it was obvious. “We know he isn’t your type, Steve.”

“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Steve snapped.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Eddie said.

“I don’t know what you have going on,” Dan interrupted, leaning against Steve. His lips were hot near his ear. “But Pretty Boy, you dump the metalhead, you know where to find me.”

“That’s it —“ Eddie nearly lunged forward to chase after Dan, stopped by Robin and Steve.

“Eddie, what the fuck is up with you?” Steve snapped. “We came out to have a good time and you’re ruining it.”

“I’m ruining it?” Eddie scoffed. “He was the one dancing against you! Does that not bother you?”

“No?” Steve wrinkled his nose. “I liked him.”

“Steve,” Robin said, stepping between the two, trying to calm the tension. “You can’t be leading him on like that.”

“Like what?” Steve asked, feeling his gut twist. He knew he was obvious with his crush on Eddie, but he would get over him. He could. If he just found the right person.

“Steve, you’re straight,” Robin said. “He’s probably thinking he was gonna take you home.”

“I’m … straight?” Steve repeated. “What planet are you from?”

“What?!” Eddie and Robin snapped at the same time. Steve looked between the two of them, his expression dropping.

“You guys thought I was straight?” Steve gaped. “I’m grinding on some guy and you think I’m straight?! We’re at a gay club, and you thought I was straight?”

“You’ve always just talked about girls,” Robin said. “We just —“ she looked at Eddie for help, but he provided none. He stood there, shocked, processing.

“Because the guy I want, doesn’t like me that way,” Steve groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “I’m going for fresh air.”

He pushed past Robin and Eddie to the front of the bar and onto the street. He turned down the alleyway, leaning against the building. He took a deep breath, letting it out.

“Hey.”

Steve looked up at Eddie, offering a cigarette from the box.

“I’m sorry about ruining things with Dan,” Eddie said. “You wanna talk?”

“I just — thought you both knew,” Steve said, taking a cigarette. Eddie flicked his lighter, lighting Steve’s cigarette. “I thought I was obvious. And you even said that ‘Us, queers find each other.’”

“I did say that,” Eddie nodded. “I just thought you were safe, and not …”

“Bisexual,” Steve said, officially coming out. “I’m bisexual.”

“Proud of you,” Eddie said. “Now tell me about this guy you like. And why you don’t think he likes you.”

“He’s super cool. Bad ass,” Steve said, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I know I’m not his type.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been flirting with him for weeks,” Steve said, putting his heart out on the line. If this failed, maybe Dan won’t mind letting him cry on his shoulder. “And he’s ignored all my advances.”

“Maybe he didn’t realize you were flirting with him,” Eddie said. “You know, maybe he thought you were straight?”

Steve’s eyes snapped to Eddie, attempting to read him. Eddie took a drag off his own cigarette.

“Maybe you could try again?” Eddie offered. Steve felt his heart beat rapidly against his chest.

“Eddie —“

“Yes,” Eddie breathed. “Whatever you want. Yes.”

“You,” Steve said. “I want you.”

Eddie crashed his lips against Steve’s in a hot, messy kiss. A little teethy, as they couldn’t help but smile and laugh. They broke away breathless.

“Come on, big boy,” Eddie said, pulling at Steve’s arm. “Let’s go dance.”

•••••

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 2

Part 1

Eddie hadn't forgotten about Steve the next day. Far from it. But his early morning thoughts had been occupied with getting up in time and going through his morning routine. It wasn't until he got dressed and put his jacket on, the same one from yesterday, that he was hit with the remnants of Steve's scent. He lifted it to his nose and took a deep breath.

His number was still in the pocket. Would texting him now seem desperate? Eddie took another breath. Fuck appearances. He had to see him again.

-------------------------

Steve had been prepared to chalk up last night to a fever dream. Or even if it was somehow real, that Eddie wouldn't call or text. Or even if he did, it wouldn't be until weeks or months later when he remembered the pathetic omega he'd met one rainy night.

And then he checked his phone on his lunch break and saw that he had a few messages. All from an unknown number.

'hey' 'it's me' 'Eddie' 'that guy you met last night?' 'I was thinking that i could maybe take you out to dinner again?'

Steve beamed so hard anyone looking might think he was insane. How cool should he play it? Maybe he should wait until he got off of work. Would it be better to call? By the looks of the texts, Eddie seemed really into him. Would Steve be able to string him along for longer?

The moment the thought passed through it was gone. He had woken up this morning, yearning for Eddie's scent. If he got close to him again, there was no way that he could make him wait.

Steve told him that he was free any time.

It probably came off as desperate but he didn't care. He wanted Eddie and wanted to be wanted by him. He couldn't afford to play it cool.

Three days later, Steve was standing outside of a nice restaurant. Eddie had sent the location and Steve dressed in the best clothes he owned. Thankfully he didn't have much of a reason to wear them, so they looked fresh and he went the extra mile to iron them. It was a nice collared shirt in blue and some khaki pants. A car drove up and Eddie came out of it, tossing the keys to a valet.

Eddie had offered to pick him up from his apartment but Steve refused for some reason. It felt like a dignity thing.

"Hey there, handsome", Eddie grinned. He had a red button down over black slacks and that leather jacket again. Steve needed to bury his face in it, in Eddie.

Steve got part of his wish when Eddie slung an around his waist and led him inside. He refrained from turning his head to dip his nose into it and drown himself in Eddie. They sat down and a waiter was with them right away for their drink orders. The waiter asked about wine as Steve looked at the menu.

"Hmm, whatever's red and sweet, my good man", Eddie said.

"We have a nice Cabernet, if you would like."

Eddie looked like he was about to agree when Steve spoke up. "Eddie, what are you eating?"

The alpha glanced at the menu before pushing air out of his mouth. "Probably a steak, beautiful. I'm actually not all that picky."

"We'll take a Caremenare", Steve said. "One from Bordeaux if you have one, if not anything on from southern France is fine."

Eddie gave Steve an appraising look as the waiter walked off to get their drinks. He let out a low whistle and then Steve stiffened.

"You know your stuff."

"I uh, yeah", Steve cleared his throat. "This seems like a real classy joint. Normally a server will ask what you plan on dining on before giving a wine suggestion."

"Ah, so he thought I was some bum who would've been happy drinking some cooking sherry?"

"Basically." Steve hadn't meant to show off like that. It just came out.

Eddie didn't look put off though. If anything, he looked impressed.

"You know, I'm not hard to please. I'm the type to drink whatever they put in front of me. Unless it's vodka." Eddie stuck his tongue out in disgust.

"I figured a rock star would have more refined tastes", Steve said.

"Oh I think I've got great tastes", Eddie said, licking a canine.

Steve had been looking at the menu, about to ask what he meant he saw the look Eddie was giving him. He quickly snapped the menu back up to cover his face and how warm it felt. Steve was no stranger to blatant flirting. He'd frequently laid it on thick himself. But knowing who Eddie was and how they'd met put an extra layer on it.

Did Eddie like him for himself? Or because he seemed easy? They started talking, the conversation now about traveling. Eddie was telling him of a particularly wild night in Italy and Steve was halfway in thought.

Would he feel different if Eddie was just a normal alpha? Or was it the fact that Eddie knew he was half the way to destitute that made Steve hesitant? Above all, Steve just didn't know if Eddie respected him or if he felt sorry for him. Eddie hadn't ever said anything condescending about him or omegas in general though. He'd never made Steve feel lower than him. He made sure he was comfortable with rides and being paid for before doing so.

Steve remembered what his best friend told him before abandoning him (getting her dream job) across the country. Basically, waste not, want not, but applying it to everything. If Eddie wanted to take him out and buy him meals and drinks, who was Steve to deny him? And if he wanted something sweet after, well Steve wouldn't be upset.

"Wait, you tried sneaking into the catacombs? You know it's a tourist site? You can just get a guide and go in", Steve said.

"Yeah, well Jeff had this bright idea of going in without permission, cause you know, rebellion is totally more metal than just hiring a tour guide, and going at like 2 am because that's the 'best time'", Eddie did air quotes and rolled his eyes. "And also tried to get into more restricted areas."

"Lemme guess, Jeff's a free spirited explorer?"

"I like adventure as much as the next guy, but I also like seeing the sky", Eddie said. "And Gareth's worse. Dude froze solid the moment we got down there. Hell of a time to learn he's got claustrophobia."

Their orders were taken and Eddie watched probably with a bit too much interest as Steve ate. He was enjoying this ritzy fare as much as he did the bar and local restaurant from before. Maybe Steve was the type to fit in anywhere. Eddie wanted to give him more. He'd seen some of the couples around them. People with clearly money to spare and they lavished it on the beauty dining with them. Gilded omegas. Kept omegas.

"I just wanted to, I don't know, take care of him", Eddie had lamented to his band mates while on a Zoom call.

"What, like a puppy?", Grant asked while in the middle of doing laundry.

"No! Yes? Like, ugggh", Eddie ran his hands down his face. "I know how this is gonna sound. Don't judge me."

"Holy shit", Gareth paused in his gaming to look at Eddie's face on one of his screens. "Dudes, I think it's finally happening."

"No fucking way", Jeff said.

Eddie turned around in his chair, trying to turn his back to them but he went to hard and did a 360 instead.

"Eddie, do you wanna be his-"

"Please don't say it out loud", Eddie covered his face with his hands.

"He does", Jeff said. "He wants to be a sugar daddy."

"This guy's gotta be hot. You got pics?", Grant asked.

"No one's that hot", Gareth said. "Chrissy was that hot and you still didn't-"

"Alright, forget I said anything. This is supposed to be a brainstorming sesh", Eddie quickly changed the subject.

Eddie wanted Steve to be his. But he didn't just want to date him. He wanted to spoil him, take him on exotic vacations, show him off, have Steve lie in bed without a care outside of being Eddie's baby.

But he couldn't just ask that, could he? That was probably one aspect of celebrity life Eddie, nor any of the other guys really knew too well. Getting a date? Easy. Getting someone like this? Would Steve even want to do that? He probably had his own goals and aspirations that went beyond being some guy's plaything. God though, Eddie would treat him so right. Steve really wouldn't want for anything.

"So, I probably sound like a broken record at this point, but how does a uh, fine vintage such as yourself find him single?"

"'Fine vintage'? Are you calling me old?", Steve asked with mock offense.

"Well you wear it very nicely", Eddie quipped back.

"For the record, I'm not chronically single. I've just been pretty busy lately. Had a few quick lays, but nothing serious for a while."

"How about somethingggg not serious buuut pretty exclusive?", Eddie asked. He leaned a little closer to Steve and was able to smell the increased interest. Good.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you, me, on a French beach in about a month. You could really show off that wino talent."

Steve snickered and moved a little closer to Eddie. "Well you can start with not calling me a 'wino'. And if you really want me to show off, you'll have to take my to Italy."

Eddie put an arm around Steve. "That can be arranged." He started to kiss his neck and let out a soft growl at the way Steve melted under his lips. His hand found Steve's thigh and gave it a squeeze.

Steve hummed and turned his head to kiss Eddie's cheek, then grabbed his hand and threaded their fingers together. He gave Eddie's lips a rather chaste kiss but then whispered against them.

"Take me to your place."

dont @ me on the wine stuff i literally drank a $7 bottle of vermouth yesterday and enjoyed it clearly i am not an expert.

Part 3

Tag Team

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @marklee-blackmore @dragonmama76 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR FIFTEEN

in which Eddie learns what it means to be honest, and you learn that some answers can only lead to more questions.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 4.7k+

→ a/n: this chapter is my enemy. that's all. all the homies hate this chapter for the hell it gave me both in writing it and posting it

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

15:00 ────────ㅇ─────── 24:00

SIX MONTHS EARLIER

You were so caught up in your own disappointment, you never saw the flash of recognition that crossed Eddie’s face. Only the anger that followed.

“Is that the dude who stood you up?” 

His voice is weak as he asks the question, a breath that barely reaches your ears as you jump at the unexpected proximity. 

“What?” you spin around to face him, “Jesus Christ, why are you creeping over my shoulder at my phone? Trying to see who else doesn’t follow me on Instagram?” 

He cringes at your bitter tone, all the vodka you’ve turned to venom in your hurt, “You didn’t answer my question – is that him?” 

“Why do you care?” 

It’s the short version of the real questions binding you. A million different threads of confusion, and each one constricts you tighter than the last, all of them tangling together in the confusion. 

Why do you care when you dislike me so vigorously? Why do you care when you’ll only use my answer as ammunition against me? Why do you care to hurt me so badly tonight? Why do you care if Nancy and I are friends? Why do you care to point out how I don’t belong in this group-

“I don’t,” he interrupts your internal panic, pausing the restless twisting of anxious twine. 

You take a deep breath, you let your eyes wander over him, taking him in. He’s ditched the soft-spoken act, his voice coming out powerful finally. The confidence is almost overdone; he sounds as if he’s trying to make up for something not there. 

You crave for distance to be put between the two of you, but he makes no move to step away as you ask, “Then why do you keep asking me?” 

You can’t begin to understand him, completely unsure of where to ever start with the task. He’s a hollow stranger of the man you’d initially met that night in the bar. You’ve seen how he acts with the others, how he treats Nancy like royalty at times and how he’s warm with Argyle. You’ve seen him share joints and laughter alike with Jonathan. It’s hard to miss when he and Steve both begin to get overly passionate about a topic, Robin always finding a way to join in. Eddie is capable of warmth and care, of friendship and genuine love, but not when it comes to you. 

“I was just curious, sue me.” 

“If I had a good lawyer, I would,” you snap back quickly, patience wearing thin. 

It makes him grin – a damn grin. Shit-eating as ever as he replies, “I know a guy if you’d like one,” and he keeps grinning, and you don’t even notice when a line is crossed and that faux glee no longer meets his eyes as he continues,  “Speaking of knowing a guy – do you know the guy on your screen?” 

The threads are twisting again, and the friction is leaving your blood boiling. “Fucking obviously.” 

“Is he the one who stood you up?” 

“Fuck off, Eddie.” 

You can’t handle this right now. You’re drunk – not so drunk you won’t remember the night, but still damn drunk – and you’re overthinking. Letting the threads cut off circulation to your brain, letting yourself only be consumed with overthinking about your place within the group. You don’t even have the capacity to question why Eddie is so persistent in finding out about the bartender who left you looking like a fool the night before; you miss his genuine, burning curiosity and the anger that still broods in him as your anxiety bubbles up. 

Were you and Nancy friends? Maybe Instagram did matter. Surely, she followed everyone else in the group, didn’t she? 

“Why won’t you just answer the question? Why are you so damn stubb-” 

“You don’t care!” you nearly scream, throwing your hands up in defeat, slamming your phone down onto the counter beside you, “You don’t care, you’ve made that clear, so I don’t understand why you need to hear me say it so fucking badly. Why do you need to hear me admit how pathetic I am? We both know where this is going – I say yes, you use it against me, I end up looking like a fool for a second night in a row,” your chest heaves and your eyes burn, but you won’t look at him. You can’t bear witness to him watching you bleed in the middle of Steve’s kitchen, “I’m not doing it. Not tonight.” 

He looks as if you had slapped him. Stunned, aghast, taking a step back to finally give you the space you had so desperately craved. You don’t even really care about it anymore; the damage is done and you’re already spiraling, thanks to him. 

“Do you think so little of me?” 

His voice is small again. Deceptively soft, a treacherous whisper you know you can’t look into. He’s not really hurt. It’s all probably an act, a guise to get you to play into how he wants the night to go. 

“With what you’ve given me to work with?” you scoff, still blinking your eyes rapidly, trying to stave off the waterworks, “Yeah. Yeah, I am starting to think that little of you.” 

“Have you considered I was just trying to be friend-” 

You’re not sure how his sentence is going to end, whether he would claim to be trying to be friendly or trying to be friends. You’re not sure which one makes you more livid.

It’s the second one. “You just mocked me, made me doubt if I had fucking friends all because of Nancy not following me on Instagram. Don’t you dare say you were trying to be friends with me right now.” 

If you were more sober, you would have cursed yourself for blatantly revealing to him that he’d gotten to you. Your wounds were now on display for him, and you stiffened as you realized and awaited the expected handful of salt he’d be rubbing into them. 

We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.

The fight’s only just begun and you’ve already lost – not just this battle, but the entire war.

You know they would choose him. If your friends were given the choice between you two, they’d choose him. And it shouldn’t sting, it’s expected given how long the group has known each other, but Eddie’s animosity towards you has done nothing to soothe the ache stirred by that truth. You would never ask them to choose, you know better, but you’ve always known the answer.

It’s him, not you. 

“I was joking-” 

“No, that was not joking. It wasn’t funny. It was mean.” 

Mean, cruel, ruthless. What Eddie did rings sharply in your chest, in your brain that’s currently running on overtime to process your waves of emotions. The threads are so tight, you expect to see a puddle of blood at your feet on Steve and Robin’s kitchen floor. 

“As if you’re any better,” he sharply laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, “You want to talk about mean? Let’s talk about my date with Chrissy and you’re fucking fiasco.” 

Your stomach drops. The battlefield lurches into uneven ground, because what you did really was unfair. But you had been bitter, and you had been mean, and you had been…. 

You had been jealous. Jealous not of the romance that was honestly leaving much to be desired between him and Chrissy, but that platonic friendship. The kind you had yet to earn from him. The kind you were starting to doubt if you ever had, genuinely, with the rest of the group. 

“I’m-”

“Sorry? Yeah, well, sorry don't make her call me back.” 

This is where, if you were speaking with anyone besides Eddie, you offer a real, genuine apology. 

But you’re speaking with Eddie. You’re burnt out from a long week, your pride still remains wounded, you’re suddenly questioning if you even have any friends, you’re drunk, and you’re speaking with Eddie. 

A genuine apology would be like terrible shards, dredged up your throat and being clung to desperately by your whining pride. You’re bleeding enough as it is without that. 

“My apologies, friend. I am so terribly sorry you weren’t able to get your dick wet.” 

You both deserved what was coming, really. You deserved it. Because suddenly, just as it always ended up between you two, hateful words were exchanged. The worst part isn’t when Eddie snarks about how at least he can get his dick wet, unlike you, nor is it when you spit out how being a slut isn’t something to be proud of. It’s a blur of sharp tongues and jabbing knives, both of you swiping for any which way to make the other bleed. 

It’s the cruelest you’ve been to each other yet, because somewhere below all of the surface-level insults, there’s real pain pulsing there. There’s your bloodied threads of anxiety, wretched thoughts and doubts as to if you should even be in this apartment tonight. There’s something more in the lines that form between Eddie’s furrowed brows as he matches your anger. His volume raises right along yours, and whenever his voice breaks over certain quick-dagger remarks, you don’t look into it. Especially not when it happens as he brings up the bartender again. All the failed dates, as he so kindly reminds you of. 

“For someone who claims to not fucking care, you sure do talk a lot about those ridiculous fucking dates,” you seethe finally. Somewhere in the argument, you’d downed the rest of your drink, leaving an empty glass beside you. 

“Because they prove my point!” he shouts in exasperation, “Because you… you… you can’t take a fucking hint.”

A final thread wraps around your throat. You feel as if you can’t breathe. 

“And what is that hint, exactly?” your tone shakes as you ask it, past anger and past heartbreak. 

Why do you still care what he thinks? Do you still care what he thinks?

The vodka says yes. 

Yet Eddie says no, shaking his head immediately.

“Oh, so now you don’t want to speak your mind?” you hate how vulnerable you are, the lilt of your voice with unshed tears and the crack in your chest that you’re sure he can hear. You want to scream, you want to pound your fists against his chest. You want to throw a proper tantrum, like an absolute child. Like a little kid on the playground who no one wanted to play with, “You had all this shit to say, and now you bite your tongue? Fuck you, Eddie.” 

“You don’t want to actually know,” he says flatly. He’s emotionless, and it burns you even further. Here you are, overflowing your cup with all your emotions, and his well has run dry. Even the tick you had managed to get out of his jaw is gone. All the anger, all the false signs of him actually caring have vanished.

You bite down on your lip, struggling to take a deep breath. Trying to even your anger, to bring yourself down to his level. You’re tired of the uneven battle ground. “I don’t? I never knew you were a mindreader.” 

“Don’t have to be a mindreader to see the way you’re about to burst into fucking tears.” 

You suddenly wish you could take the glass on the counter beside you and just toss it at him, full force. Make him physically bleed as he continues to stab at your pride, your ego, your emotions. 

You’re not even sure he’d bleed at this point. Maybe he’s a fucking robot designed to do nothing but hurt you. 

“Fuck you,” you state plainly as the first tear falls, repeating yourself with a more vindictive tone, “Fuck you. It’s not like you care about my fucking feelings, so just say it.” 

 “Fine,” he’s still so indifferent, still so emotionless, “You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted. Not by those assholes, not here-” 

It’s your final breaking point. You don’t care to hear the rest of his sentence, temper taking the reins as you reach for the glass beside you. 

You throw as hard as you can. 

You tell yourself it’s dumb luck and bad aim when the glass shatters against the wall behind Eddie and not his shocked face. Not mercy. Not the ghost of hope, evaporating with a whisper of glass shards as the final shovel full of dirt falls upon the grave. You can see it clearly, the gravestone that marks the fresh grave: Here Lies Possibility. Here Lies All That Could Have Been. 

It’s over. Eddie knows it – his emotion finally shows, but you don’t stick around to see it. 

Eddie’s wrong. For once, you see you’re not wanted, and make the choice to leave.

—

HOUR FIFTEEN - 6:00 AM

“It was about you. I got banned because of you.” 

You don’t know how to respond at first. Honesty hangs heavy between the two of you, suffocating in the morning light. 

You asked him for honesty. He gave you honesty.

It should be a celebration, but all it does is build a pit in the bottom of your stomach that threatens to weigh you down to the bottom of his ocean. 

When you finally respond, you enunciate each word carefully, “Eddie. What do you mean?” 

“I got banned. From the bar. Because of you.”

“No, yeah, I gathered that,” you stress, the crease between your brow deepening, “But…. I… elaborate?”

You can hear the cars on the street below, echoing honks and engines thrumming. Songbirds sing in the distance and shops are opening; the entire world surrounding you two is awakening with a long yawn and a gentle stretch. 

Your world feels as though it is coming to a full stop, but life is carrying on. 

“Which part?” he breaths out a humorless laugh, “The part where I got banned, or the part where it was because of you? Because the ban is pretty straight forward – I threw a punch at a guy, he threw a punch back, now I can’t step foot in Fat Tuesday on Mill Ave-”

“The part where it’s because of me, you idiot,” you interrupt him in exasperation, “What the hell do you mean you got banned because of me?” 

Silence. You’re met with silence. 

Maybe honesty has run dry, just like that. 

You search his face and count your luck, at least he admitted this much, before sighing, “Okay. You don’t have to tell me-” 

The honesty comes bursting out of him. The well of it is anything but dry, “It was the bartender that stood you up. He was there that night after our fight, after the party at Steve’s.” 

The bartender. 

You hadn’t thought of that guy in ages, had long since forgotten his name and face since he’d bruised your ego. 

“I…” your voice trails off, unsure and unsteady as you take tentative steps away from the balcony’s railing, “I’m… honored?” 

Honored isn’t quite the right word. You really don’t know how to feel right now. Should you be thanking him, assuming it was in your honor that he started the fight? Or should you press on, test the limits of honesty and figure out if you’re interpreting this entire confession incorrectly? 

Eddie chuckles dryly before he suddenly walks over to one of the two lounge chairs on the balcony, a small table separating them adorned with a crystal ashtray, “That’s all?”

“Should I not be?” Confusion bursts and blooms across your face, and Eddie’s only reaction to it is furrowed brows as he sits down, “I mean, you just told me you not only threw a punch, but took a punch from some dude who stood me up on a first date once. I think at the very least I should be-”

“I expected you to have more questions,” Eddie cuts you off as he taps his carton of cigarettes on the table beside you, more of a habit than a necessity. His knee is bouncing with each tap, an invisible beat you try to track and end up failing miserably before you take the other chair beside him, “You always have more questions.” 

I do, you think immediately, I have a million and one questions I can’t ask.

Each question flurries past you in a blur, and you’re sure if they’re capable of making you dizzy that there’s no way Eddie could handle them all being thrown at him. There’s also a small part of you still terrified that pressing too far will send him running; ask one wrong thing, and Eddie will retreat to his tall, defensive walls, once again separating him from you. Progress, no matter how minimal, is progress. You can’t risk backtracking. 

“Of course I do,” you repay his debt of honesty in a quiet tone, nimbly picking at the hem of his sweatshirt as it brushes your thigh. 

“Then ask them.”

“If I ask you more questions, are you going to shut me out?” 

The entire morning stills. The breeze turns stale, the sounds of the Sunday hustling and bustling seemingly pause. 

You can’t help but look into his big, brown eyes. You try to communicate with a single look, a silent plea for him to please say he isn’t. 

“I won’t shut you out,” he’s hardly louder than a whisper, but that’s enough for you.

You don’t know where to start: Did you punch him because of me? Did he say something first? Did you have an ulterior motive? Did you know about my date with him before that night? Did you guys talk about me?

The final one sparks a chill down your spine, uncomfortable at the thought of Eddie having discussed you with the bartender, having been the one to tarnish the man’s view of you enough to leave you stranded at a restaurant alone. 

Normally, you’d slowly ease him to the point of your actual question. But your patience has vanished as you look at him now, as you watch him under the promise that he won’t shut you out.

“How did you know him before the fight?” 

His lips twitch with a grin, “I was a regular, he was a bartender. Can I make it anymore obvious?” 

“Are you quoting Avril Lavigne to me right now?” you ask, flabbergasted before shaking your head in an attempt to clear your thoughts and move past this joke, “You know what? Forget I asked – so he served you often? Were you…. Were you friendly?” 

“Well, he once took me out behind the bar and kissed me, but he never got around to buying me dinner. Might have been because of my mean right hook, but who knows-”

“Eddie,” Your voice cracks in desperation, “Please, be serious. Just for one minute.” 

It kills you to say it, because part of you is convinced this is a vision of the boy you’ve been chasing after for so long. This is the boy who is best friends with Nancy. This is the boy who is always invited without hesitation to smoke with Jonathan and Argyle. This is the boy that Steve and Robin had ranted and raved about in all those classes before you’d met him. This is the boy you’d met that first night in the bar in brief passing, and had been seeking out ever since. 

A boy who felt like coming home after a long week.

It kills you to tell him to quiet down all the grins and jokes that are making your heart ache in such a terribly peculiar way.

“I’m sorry,” something in you gleams with gratuity when his grin takes it’s time fading, him throwing up his hands in faux defense, his playful tone still woven carefully. He’s not shutting you out. “I can be serious. I- Give me a second. Scout’s honor, I can stop fucking around.” 

“You better,” you jilt, caving into the joking ever so slightly. 

It’s easy to do when he looks at you this way. His eyes sparkle as if the honesty has freed him of some great weight. However he had expected you to react, it wasn’t this way. 

All at once, he has become something brand new to you. You’re in his sweatshirt, barefoot on his balcony as you can still smell his last cigarette lingering in the air, and you wonder if you’ve never considered yourself a morning person because you’ve never experienced a Sunday morning with Eddie. If you had felt his morning light like this before, even in a sleep-deprived haze, you would have certainly enjoyed the early hours sooner. 

“Okay, okay,” he takes a deep breath, forces away the grin you can still see in the crinkles beside his eyes, “To answer your question, no. We weren’t really friends, I didn’t even know his name and I’m pretty sure he didn’t know mine. He just knew my order.”

“Whiskey and coke,” you whisper, pulling a knee up to your chin, resting it and looking at Eddie with unbridled softness. Fifteen hours ago, you couldn’t have known nor cared about his go-to drink.

“Whiskey and coke,” he confirms. It’s in the pull of his lips – he’s fighting another smile, feeling just as soft as you are at the way you’ve learned something new about him, “Not that it’s hard to remember. Definitely easier than an amaretto sour.” 

“Amaretto sours are not hard to remember,” you shake your head ever so slightly, chin slipping and lips dragging across the skin of your knee. Eddie’s eyes waste no time focusing on the movement, “Okay. So you two weren’t really friends, that’s good to know. I guess my next question would be, was he working that night?” 

Eddie leans forward, elbows pressing into the tops of his thighs, “Are you asking if I’m badass enough to storm into a bar and throw a punch at the bartender on duty to defend your honor?” 

His words paint quite the picture for you. “Did you?”

“No. Lower your expectations of me, please.” 

It takes everything in you to not just throw your head back in laughter, having to settle on giggles suffocated against the skin of your knee still. You wrap your arms around your shin tightly, keeping your leg folded up into you as you shake with the soft laughter. 

“Okay, one last question - who threw the first punch?” you sigh. The image of how fearful Eddie had looked when he’d first admitted to this entire ordeal is silly now. You already know the answer to this question, he wouldn’t have been so nervous to tell you if he hadn’t been the one instigating the entire thing, but you ask it to humor the two of you. 

It’s a good distraction from the buds and blooms alike, all awakening along your vines. The vines don’t feel so constricting anymore. As a matter of fact, you think you’re able to recognize their beauty for the first time. Verdant greenery lined with splashes of reds, of violets, of yellows that are almost the same brilliant shade of gold that his eyes seemingly flash every time the sun hits them just right. 

“I did,” he answers just as you expected. He also shrinks into himself, just as you had also expected, “I just saw him there, and- actually, I don’t know if this next part is just an insult to injury but I…” he trails off, not taking a single breath as he meets your gaze. You’re sure he’s searching for anger, for repulsiveness, for hurt. He’ll find none. You only nod your head and encourage him to keep going, “Okay, he was there on a fuckin’ date, sweetheart. A date, the night after he stood you up. So I just…I just decked him. And honestly? I don’t regret it. He deserved it.” 

When he’s finally finished spilling his guts, you’re left fighting a grin and an overflowing chest of blooms. He’s flushed and nervous and goddamn it, he beat the shit out of some dude in your honor. You should scold him or be more upset, but you only start laughing again. 

“Why are you laughing?” Eddie scrunches up his face, continuing to lean forward, almost as if trying to get closer to you, “Seriously, what’s so funny about that?” 

You’ve thrown your head back in delight now, just as you had wanted to earlier, and release your hold on your leg as it falls back down from your chest, “Jesus Christ, I wish I could have seen that in person.” 

Eddie’s stunned. But you mean it – if your heartbroken self from six months ago had witnessed that, you would have considered Eddie your best friend immediately. This entire feud would have been cut six months short just from one simple punch. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp out, desperately trying to compose yourself once more, “I really shouldn’t condone violence. I just – man, I cried over that guy. A whole month of those stupid, cheesy, ‘good-morning-beautiful’ texts, and he had just left me hanging, y’know? I mean, I’m sure he’s not a bad person-”

“No,” Eddie interrupts, smiling right along with you, “No, as far as we should be concerned, he’s a fucking asshole. Fuck defending him, we’re never going to see him again anyways.” 

 We’re never going to see him again. 

Eddie probably has no idea what he’s done, referring to the two of you as a joint unit for the first time in a future tense, but it makes you ache all over. That heartache and warmth you felt for him is no longer secluded to just your chest; you feel it from your toes all the way to your scalp, traveling and leaving kisses of goosebumps in its trail. A sudden yearning floods your entire nervous system, the entire roadmap of your heart and your veins and your arteries – you like the image of you and Eddie, Eddie and you, still being a resemblance of a pair beyond just these measly twenty four hours. You like to imagine being able to call him up out of boredom some time next week. You like the thought of him joining on bar crawls with you and the girls. You like the thought of spending every Sunday morning with him from here on out. 

Some of those are reasonable. Some of those aren’t. The yearning rushes through you all the same. 

“Yeah,” you agree softly, “We’re never going to see him again. Fuck him.” 

Eddie hums and leans back in his chair, finally beginning to relax, leaving you a moment to reflect. 

He was telling the truth, he had been honest; he had gotten banned from a bar for you. He’d seen the bartender who stood you up, and he’d decided to defend your honor. Even after that night. Even after that fight. Even after the glass you had thrown. 

Even after the cruel words he had said. 

The yearning stops in its tracks, coming to a rough halt as you glance up at him sharply. 

Even after the cruel words he had said, even after claiming you weren’t someone who was wanted, he’d defended you. 

“You know what?” he suddenly says, but your mind is still whirling and you can only hum in response, “I kind of like honesty. I sort of dig it,” you wish you could muster up more than a smile as he boyishly grins at you, “What else do you wanna know? Hit me, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. The yearning rushes past the floodgates, the pink strikes your cheeks, the ache rings out from the very hollows of your bones. 

You know what you really want to ask him can’t be answered right now. Because even with the change in him, the one that weakens your knees and has you wishing for things in the future, he was still once the man from that night. He still once made you bleed, made you cry. And even if he’s apologized, and you know he means it, it can’t erase that fact. 

And it worries you. Because as all the feelings swell in your chest, you’re left with yet another unanswered question. 

Why would you defend me after that fight?

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @amira0303 @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @tlclick73 @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

[flowerfan2]

Steve doesn’t talk about his nightmares.  He assumes they all get them, it’s clearly just something you have to accept after going through the shit that they’ve gone through.  He deals with it, like he deals with everything.

One night he wakes from a nightmare and there’s someone in his room, and he’s frozen and he’s terrified and he can’t reach his bat.  He feels like his chest is about to explode until a second later when the figure moves in front of the window, hands held up in front of him and eyes wide with concern.

“Eddie,” Steve says, his voice scraping out of his body.  “What – what are you doing here?”

Eddie cocks his head.  “Many, many vodka shots, couldn’t drive home, crashed on your couch, etc. etc.  You don’t remember?”

Steve does, now, the sound of Eddie’s voice bringing reality back, and he nods.  “Yeah, uh, so many vodka shots.  But…?” he trails off, gesturing to his bedroom.  

“I heard you.”  Eddie shrugs, then climbs onto the bed like it’s no big deal, shoving aside the messy blankets and sitting cross-legged next to Steve.  For a moment he’s backlit by the light outside, his curls a frizzy halo.  “Nightmares suck.  You okay?”

Steve sucks in a long breath and pushes his sweaty hair out of his face with a shaking hand.  “Uh, sure.”  Eddie doesn’t look convinced.  He heard him.  “What, um, what did I say?”

Because sometimes the dreams are about things that actually happened, like him and his friends being attacked by monsters, and sometimes they’re about things that didn’t actually happen but almost did, like Eddie and Max dying.  Sometimes they’re about brand-new horrors that he hasn’t even experienced yet.  His mind is impressive that way.

“You just screamed a lot.”  Eddie holds his gaze, and Steve feels sick to his stomach.  Probably explains why he wakes up with his throat hurting so often.  Benefits of an empty house.

Eddie shifts, all limbs, and lays down on his side, head propped on one hand.  Steve’s plaid comforter is pushed down by his feet, and Eddie tucks his bare toes underneath it. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks quietly.

Steve fights the urge to bury his face in his pillow.  “I can’t.”

Eddie accepts this and rolls to his back, hands clasped over his chest briefly until they start waving around as he speaks.  “I get nightmares all the time.  Always have.  Used to be they were about regular little kid stuff, then all the normal high school shit – showing up somewhere without your clothes on, whatever.  Wayne was always real nice about it, didn’t make me feel embarrassed, just kind of sat with me or brought me water, you know.”  Eddie glances over to Steve’s bedside table where there’s already a glass of water, and he meets Steve’s eyes.

“No, I’m good,” Steve says, with a little snort.  “Do you, um, have different nightmares now?”

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Eddie says, turning back on his side to fully face Steve.  “I keep thinking they’ll be great material for song lyrics, or campaigns, once they stop scaring the living daylights out of me.  Worst ones are where I’m getting bitten over and over by those god damned demobats, man.  Fucking sharp-ass teeth, ripping me apart.  Hurts like hell, can’t believe how much it hurts.  And that thing where you wake up and still feel it, right, like the pain is real for a minute even though it’s just a dream?  Like a pain-echo?  God, I hate that.”

“Me too,” Steve says, and he takes in a deep breath and lets it out.  “It’s like that for me, too.  Really scary.”  He stretches, feeling some of the tension leave his body, and relaxes down into his pillow.  He no longer feels like he’s on a rollercoaster without a safety bar.  He’s not alone.  “Thanks.”

Eddie studies him, then reaches down and tugs on the sheet, eventually getting part of it untangled, and pulls it up over Steve’s legs.

Steve knows what’s going to happen next, but he suddenly can’t let it.  Without thinking too much about it, he reaches over and touches his hand to where Eddie’s lies between them on the bed.  “Would you stay?”

His heart is beating hard in his chest for a reason having nothing at all to do with nightmares, when Eddie twines his fingers together with Steve’s and nods, a shy smile tugging at his mouth.  “Yeah.”

[eds6ngel]

Can I request a Steve Harrington fic please?

Him and the reader are always throwing insults back and forth to eachother (enemies to lovers if you will) they’re both at a party, the reader on their own on the couch and Steve comes over to “bother” her. While bothering the reader he sees a girl he used to hook up with but told her that he can’t see her anymore (you can pick the reason why) and he begs the reader to act like his new girl for the rest of the night. He makes her pretend that they’re going up to a room for you know what👀 and the rest is up to you <3

mutual (dis)like ⋆˚✿˖°❀

steve harrington x fem!afab!reader

summary: with yours and steve's feud hitting the four-year mark, what will happen when you have to pretend to be his girlfriend for the night?

warnings: SMUT!! fem!afab!reader. unprotected p in v (pull-out method.) fingering. hickeys. kissing. consent checks. use of pet names (honey, baby, babe.) swearing. alcohol and drug use (everything is still consensual !!) r is 17, steve is 18. some angst and hurt in the middle. fluff and comfort at the end. [3.2k.]

a/n: thank you for requesting, lovely!! sorry it took so long, i experienced some writing slump :') but here you go!! i hope this is what you wished for ♡

To say that Steve and you didn’t get along would be an… understatement.

It all started when you joined Hawkins High in freshman year, Steve a sophomore. Tommy and Carol had decided it would be a fun idea to encourage Steve to target another one of the poor drama students, slowly adding to his ‘King Steve’ status.

However, what Steve thought would be an easy way to keep you down was quickly proven wrong. What he thought would be an easy bully session soon turned into an equal sparked feud.

Every morning at Hawkins High would be Steve turning up to your locker to bother you, you snapping back at him, before you both went your separate ways to class.

Tonight, Tina had invited you over to her house party to celebrate the end of the school year. You were thankful junior year was finally over, and Steve was grateful he actually managed to graduate.

You weren’t much of a partier, so to speak, so Eddie Munson always offered you some weed, which you were very grateful for. It helped mellow out the loud sounds of music and drunken states of sloppy teenagers.

However, like always, ‘King Steve’ (although, he had recently lost that title) came striding over to where you were relaxing on the vodka-stained couch.

“Of course you’re not partying. Why am I even surprised? How much did you suck Munson’s dick to get that bag?”

You scoff, taking another puff of your cig, “Not one bit, actually. Not all guys think with their dicks and some are actually nice around here. He doesn’t need to compensate like you do.”

He whistles as you stand up, smirking as you take a sip from the glass of whiskey in your right hand, “Oh yeah? And what makes you think my dick is so—”

However, Steve falls into a stunned silence as he notices someone very familiar behind you.

“So small? Well, I’ll have you know—”

“I need you to be my girlfriend.”

You splutter on the drink, coughing as you regain your breath, “Fucking hell, Harrington. Are you seriously that desperate—”

“Stephanie,” he blurts out, “She’s my ex-fling and I told her I couldn’t hook up with her anymore as I’d fallen in love with someone else and I need you to pretend to be that someone.”

You shake your head and laugh, “Uh… Yeah, that’s gonna have to be a no.”

About to turn around, Steve grabs your arm at the last minute. Damn, he must’ve really fucked things up for himself.

“Will you just do it? Every other girl in here I’ve either fucked or hates my guts, so—”

“I literally hate you as well, dickwad,” you cut him off, giving him a deadpan expression.

He leans in closer to your face, his eyes pleading as he says in a low whisper, “Yeah, but you’re also the only drama student I know, and if it’s anyone who can help me get out of this situation, it’s you.”

You take a deep breath in, before putting your joint out in the ashtray and your whiskey on the table, “Fine,” you arms flail, “But you better re-pay me for this… What do you need me to do?”

“So, this is the girl you fell for?”

Stephanie was definitely the IT girl around Hawkins. Beautiful blonde perm, luscious lashes, perfectly-shaped nails and an hourglass figure. Her entire outward persona made you feel extremely self-conscious, the whole story becoming even more unbelievable to you.

Steve wraps his arm around your waist, you trying to hide any signs of discomfort, “Sure is. This is my gorgeous girlfriend.”

Stephanie and her friends cackle, almost on level with a witches laugh, “You’re joking. Seriously? This freak?”

That word just made you shrivel up into a ball. You wanted to leave, to run away, to cry into your pillows. You could take insults from the guys, they would never understand what it was like to live in your shoes. But other girls? Women who went through the same universal experience as you living in this century? That stung. That cut deep.

“Steve, just leave it. This is ridiculous—”

But, before you can make your attempt at escaping, Steve grabs tightly onto your upper arm, “Yeah, actually, she is a freak. And for that reason, she makes a much better time than you ever did.”

Stephanie gasps, putting a hand to her heart, “Oh screw you and your shitty girlfriend, Harrington!”

“You know what?” he taps his chin with his finger, “I think that actually sounds like a great idea. You wanna head upstairs, babe?”

You nod subtly, “Yeah. Um… sure.”

“Sweet,” he takes a hold of your hand, “Don’t worry Steph, I’m sure someone else around here will happily take you for a good time.”

He winks, Stephanie scoffing and rolling her eyes, turning her back as the two of you make your way up to one of the spare bedrooms in Tina’s house. Lucky for you, the first room you came across was empty, not having to face the disgusting consequences of seeing two classmates going at it on the bed.

You’ve already parted from Steve, walking over to the other side of the room, hands interlinked behind your head as Steve closes the door.

He tries to make his way over to you, reasoning, “Look, I didn’t know she was going to call you that, I just—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Steve?” you yell at him, tears streaming down your cheeks, breaths coming out ragged as you struggle to catch them in your throat.

“How is this my fault? I didn’t call you that! I didn’t know she was going to say that!” his voice rises, matching the volume of your own.

“Do you even know what it’s like to get bullied by someone of the same gender as you? It’s humiliating! If I can’t trust another girl to be nice, then how can I—”

“Actually, I do!”

His statement shocks you into silence. When in the world has Steve Harrington ever been bullied? He’s been king of the school for almost four years now. He was the bully himself.

“Look,” he takes your wrist, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed, “This whole bullying thing that happened, I…”

He takes a deep breath, afraid to admit the real truth about their ongoing four-year feud.

“Tommy and Carol forced me into it. They told me to target you, and like the stupid person I was at the time, I followed through. But…”

Your eyes are filled with confusion, looking at the brown-haired boy with intrigue, his expressions confusing you, nervous as to what he was about to say.

“The longer it went on, the more I started noticing things about you. I saw the way you would doodle little animals in your notebook in Biology, the way you would always order the same food for lunch, Mac & Cheese, mashed potatoes and—”

“And carrots…” you finish off his sentence, looking at him with pure shock. But, the emotion quickly turns back into that same anger, “But… if you paid that much attention to me, why did you continue to target me? Even when you ditched Tommy and Carol, you still fucking continued—”

He sighs, frustrated and disappointed in himself, “Because… I was frankly embarrassed to be with you, which is 100% a me problem, nothing to do with you. I still couldn’t let go of the fact that I could fall in love with someone who wasn’t ‘popular.’ I kept bullying you in hopes that you would hate my guts so much that even the pure idea of dating you would be impossible. Which is probably true now, so… mission accomplished for me, I guess…”

His hand was holding yours now, you giving it a small squeeze as you replied, “I don’t hate your guts, Steve. I just…”

Always something else. You still hated him. You had to. He convinced himself of that.

“I saw you bully everyone else, and you hurt a lot of fucking people. I didn’t want to let you win. It wasn’t that I hated you, I just didn’t want to let my guard down. Didn’t wanna act like I did with Stephanie down there.”

Steve notices you grit your teeth at that. You were angry with yourself. Angry with your insecurities, your weaknesses, your lack of ability to so easily defend yourself from everyone.

“So… I continued to fight back. I needed to be strong. I couldn’t let myself break after all these years. I would only stop when you did which… I guess is now.”

You look up into his eyes. You don’t know whether he got closer or you did, or maybe you both closed some distance. Maybe your bodies were trying to tell you something your brains were actively fighting against.

“So…” Steve gulps, “You don’t hate me?”

You laugh softly, grinning from ear to ear. Steve had waited to see that up close for years.

“No, Steve. I don’t hate you. I never did hate you. I just rebutted off of your hatred of me.”

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t hate you either. In fact, I think I said a very different word to describe how I feel about you.”

He was the one leaning closer now. His attitude taking more of a flirtatious tone, eyes staring completely into yours, a mood you’d much rather reciprocate for a long period of time.

“You sure did.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“Absolutely not.”

He grins, lips hovering just above yours, “So I assume you wouldn’t mind if I also did this.”

You manage to purr out an “Absolutely not,” before slotting your lips between his.

Your hand naturally went out to cup his cheek, his palms resting neatly on your waist, gripping your dress tightly, wishing to feel your natural skin against him.

The kisses quickly turn desperate, a plea in the form of a whine escaping your throat as Steve takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He lightly taps your exposed thigh, “Come on, pretty girl. Get on top of me.”

You turn to putty in his hands, following his exact orders as you swing your right leg over his body, straddling his lap. Both of your hands remain on either side of his face, his hands sliding lower, perching under the curves of your ass.

The desperation seeps from both of you, your teeth and tongues attacking each other’s necks like a dog in heat, leaving love marks on every inch you had access to.

Your hands explore underneath his shirt, feeling the sparse hairs of his happy trail tickle against your soft skin. Steve’s arms are already guiding yours, lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor behind you.

You can’t help but let your body take over from your mind, your hands roaming completely over his chest, feeling every muscle and curve he had to give. It was yours now. All yours.

Steve had taken his time tracing your thighs in his fingertips whilst you were divulging in his neck, ever so slowly pushing your dress upwards, bunched up against your waist.

“Can I? Will you let me, honey?” he asks, fingers sitting at the waistband of your panties.

“Do what you need to, baby,” you reply in a sultry tone, lips moving to his collarbone. However, as you soon found out, your lips wouldn’t be attached for much longer.

Steve didn’t even need much preparation. A quick slide up your slit, coating his fingers in your juices and he was slipping his middle and ring finger into your hole.

“Oh fuck, Steve,” you moan out, head falling back, eyes closing as you bask in the pleasure.

“Yeah, honey? Like the feeling of my fingers inside you?”

Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, leaving red marks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Despite this being your first time together, it feels as if he knows your body inside and out, catching all the right spots to send you to Heaven, fingers moving at just the right pace, curling into the perfect spot.

“Uh huh. You’re so good at this, baby.”

Baby, baby, baby. He could listen to that pet name escape your mouth every single day, especially if it was being whimpered from your vocal chords. The exact throaty strangle he needed to hear.

There’s a sudden curl of his fingers that make you shiver, Steve chuckling as he teases, “Yeah? That the spot, honey? Got you figured out already?”

“Mhm, Jesus, babe.”

“You wanna cum on my fingers, is that it? Fall apart for me, honey?” he taunts, you trying your hardest not to rock back onto them, bringing yourself closer to your release.

“Not on— Fuck, not on your fingers, baby…” Your hand snakes down to the bump formed in his jeans, pressing your palm to it as Steve lets out a groan.

“Oh, you wanna cum on my cock, is that it, honey? Wanna ride me?”

You nod ferociously, “Yeah, yeah. Wanna cum on your fat cock.”

Steve pulls his fingers out of you in an instant, you leaning down to un-do his belt, him shifting the material down his legs along with his boxers.

Your statement about his cock being fat was apparently no lie. His dick hit his stomach, slightly curved to the right, cut, and had to be around 6 inches, a girth of over 5.

You had to contain yourself from drooling, grabbing his dick in your hand and rubbing it against your soaking pussy.

The mere touch of your hand around him had him containing a moan, watching in delight as you lined yourself up above him.

“You good?” you ask him, making sure he’s on the same line of thought as you. This was all so sudden after all, you had to make sure.

“Better than ever, babe.”

You took that as your cue to sink down onto his cock, moans filling the air as Steve gripped onto your ass tighter, ready to guide you if you needed.

“Can I move? Please let me move, Steve. It’s okay, I’m good.”

“Take it away, honey. You can call the shots here.”

“Okay…” you whisper as you lift yourself up, before slamming back down, Steve letting out a choked moan. Soon enough, you begin to find a steady rhythm, your wetness allowing for a ‘slosh’ sound to fill the atmosphere every single time you lowered yourself. With Steve’s balls hitting your ass, it’s like you transcended into Heaven. Why did you ever have meaningless hook-ups when it feels this good with a man who loves you?

Not giving as much as he’d liked earlier, his teeth attack your neck again, pulling and tugging on the skin before soothing it with his warm tongue. His hands help guide you up and down, him trying his hardest not to thrust his hips up into yours. He let you be in control here, and he wasn’t going to take over that unless he needed to.

Your hands come to cup the back of his head, eyes closed as your practically squished up against his face, letting him lean into your chest, feeling his lips press tender kisses between your breasts.

“Ah, ah, ah” is all that can escape your mouth. You’re too far gone at this point. You didn’t even realise the pace of your hips were slowing until Steve’s grunts increased and his cock was hitting a spot so far back that you didn’t know it existed. But, all that you cared is it felt good. Really good.

You could feel the knot begin to tighten in the pit of your stomach, even Steve’s thrusts becoming sloppy, uneven, his cock twitching inside of you, ready to burst any second.

“Shit, gonna cum soon, babe. Where do you want it?”

“I’m close too, baby,” you pant, “I’m not on anything, so my stomach, please.”

“Gonna hold off for you, honey. Wanna feel you tighten around me. Wanna feel you strangle my cock. Can you do that for me? Strangle my cock?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, basically becoming limp in his arms as he continues to pound up into you, your release building and building, before the tide quickly spills over.

“Shit, you’re so tight, honey. Such a good girl for me, fuck.”

Steve is struggling to hold off. The loud noises you are moaning directly into his ear, combined with the tightening of your walls around his cock has him gripping your ass for dear life.

As soon as your moans begin to settle, he quickly pulls out of you, beating his cock until his head is thrown back, four spurts of his cum landing onto your stomach, the rest pooling around his hand and falling onto his happy trail.

You’re sat on his thigh, head leaning against his shoulder as you both pant, his hands now tracing circles on either side of your waist, trying to catch your breaths and enter your post-orgasm hazes.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Steve lets out, lifting your chin so he can lean the side of his face against yours, a sloppy kiss being pressed to your cheek. “I love you so much, and I know that’s really soon, so don’t feel pressured to say it back, but… I just needed to say it again.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, “I get it. It is a lot and I’ll say it in due time, okay? And hey… you’re pretty fucking amazing too. But…”

Steve begins to panic at that, but your next words just make the two of you laugh, “The feeling of your cum drying on my stomach is not as pleasant, I’m afraid.”

Holding onto your hips, he stands up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bathroom to clean you up. “Don’t worry honey, I got you. You just relax for me whilst I get you cleaned up.”

“M’kay… Thank you… for everything.”

He smiles at you, wiping the cum from your stomach with some toilet paper before throwing it in the trash can. He looks back at you, admiring your blissed out state. Your make-up was ruined, hair astray, but you never looked more beautiful to him.

He holds your chin as you slot your lips together once again, him mumbling, “’Course beautiful girl. You deserve it, ‘kay? Now… Tina won’t mind us sleeping in here, right?”

You shake your head, “Should be fine, baby. A sleep sounds good right now.”

“Mmm,” he mumbles, lifting you up into his arms from where you were perched on the toilet seat, carrying you back to the bed and tucking you in, before climbing in next to you.

He wraps his arm around your waist, dragging you closer to him as he presses one final kiss to your cheek. “Goodnight, honey.”

“Night, baby.”

taglist: @tlclick73 @joekeerysmoles @ellharrington @agxxb

[roanniom]

always thinking about a sweeeeet and giggly high make out sesh with eddie or steve or both really lolololol nothing about it is rushed it’s just relaxed and maybe a lil messy

Oh.

Oh god.

Smoke

Steddie x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, drug use, two men & one woman, over the clothes touching, fingering, making out, teasing (Eddie is a taunting menace here wow)

The three of you are hanging out in Harrington’s apartment. It’s a super chill night. There’s nowhere you need to be. Nobody expects anything of the three of you anyway, let’s be honest.

Eddie’s brought the good shit. You’d begged him over the phone earlier and he’d threatened to make you pay for you it so you’d whined and threw Steve under the bus, volunteering him to pay for it. Both of you knew no money would be passed between anyone that might, only joints.

And that’s how you find yourself lounging on the couch between the two of them, taking a hit that pulls deep into your lungs. You exhale toward the ceiling, feeling floaty until Eddie shifts to lay his had on your chest looking up at you, weighing you down.

“Alright that’s enough, my turn princess.” He reaches up with weak grabby fingers but you lift the joint up into the air above you, out of his reach.

“Harrington literally just handed it to me. Calm your tits,” you argue, rolling your eyes. Eddie moves his head a bit side to side, squashing his cheek against your chest.

“I’d rather calm yours,” he mutters, giving you a blinding grin and flinching when you pinch him with your free hand. To your right Steve flips through the channels on the tv, paying no mind to the physical contact going on between you and Eddie.

“Ugh, there’s nothing good on.”

You don’t hear him though. Your brain has become consumed by the minutiae of Eddie’s lip shape. By their wet look when he licks them. By the curve at the corners as he watches you watch him.

“Gonna pass it or not, Princess? Don’t hold out on me here,” he mumbles quietly. You bring the joint back down to your lips and inhale deeply, making Eddie roll his eyes and huff in frustration. However, you grab his face suddenly, wrenching him up to you and bullying his mouth open to exhale the heady smoke directly into his lungs.

Eddie accepts the smoke greedily, moaning as his hands clench around your wrists. The sound causes Steve to look over, his eyes going wide.

“What the fuck, guys! Don’t make out while I’m right fucking here!”

You pull away, letting go of your grip on Eddie and allowing him to drop so the back of his head rests in your lap. He stares up at you, dazed.

“We weren’t making out, dumbass. I was shotgunning him a smoke,” you say dismissively. You twiddle with the joint between your fingers and try to ignore the way Steve is staring at you accusatorily and Eddie is staring at you with awe.

“Look, I pay rent here. If anyone’s getting liplocked in this apartment it’s me,” Steve grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your brain feels light and airy from the weed and to be honest, all of your decision making brain cells have tapped out for the night anyway, so you shrug and take another drag from the joint. Eddie’s eyes go wide from where he lays in your lap staring up at you as you lean over and pull Steve aggressively to you by his collar and force your way into his mouth to exhale into him his own hit.

“Holy…fuck…” Eddie breathes from beneath the two of you.

When you’ve finally released all of the smoke, you go to pull back, but Steve’s hand comes to grip the back of your neck, keeping you fused to him. You gasp a necessary breath against his lips and his tongue takes the opportunity to plunge in.

Kissing Steve is enthusiastic but still somehow…gentle. Though he holds you to him, he’s still cradling you. His tongue massages yours and tastes like vodka and spearmint and you’re enjoying it when suddenly you’re pulled apart by Eddie abruptly sitting up.

“I’m literally right fucking here,” he says gruffly, brows knitted together in frustration. Steve runs a distracted hand through his hair and chuckles breathlessly.

“That’s what I said.”

“Did you…?” You trail off when Eddie’s eyes drop from accusatory to hopeful. He’s nodding immediately and leaning in, so you soon find your hand fisting his shirt and his tongue in your mouth.

This is a different experience than the kiss with Steve. Eddie’s all rough edges and eagerness. His tongue tastes of beer and cigarettes but sweet, somehow, and his big hands wrap around your waist, pulling you to him.

Before you know it, however, you’re being broken apart, disoriented and gasping for a second time tonight. You turn and look at Steve, whose hand his clamped hard on your shoulder. His eyes darting between you and Eddie. Your heart rate kicks up and you expect him to pull you back in, but instead he reaches his free hand to grab the front of Eddie’s shirt, pulling the long haired man over you so that their lips crash together.

You gasp as you watch them go at one another. It’s rough and primal and so much more aggressive than how either of them handle you and you can’t take your eyes away. Your stomach flips and lower down heat settles in your core, making you whimper. They finally break apart at the sound, the two of them looking to you with heaving chests and parted, kiss swollen lips.

“I…fuck…” is all you manage to whisper, face screwed up with want. You lift both of your hands, one reaching towards each of them, but then you drop them back in your lap limply, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. “That was just so hot…”

“Yeah Princess?” Eddie asks with a smirk. He grabs your hand and strokes the pulse point at your wrist with his thumb. “You liked that?”

You nod weakly and croon when he leans forward to kiss your neck.

Steve meanwhile is silent, panting beside you with a faraway look in his eye, like he’s grappling with what he just did. You grab his hand and make him look at you. His eyes shift from your face to Eddie sucking a mark into the skin of your neck. He looks so conflicted you tug him back to you for a kiss, which seems to quiet his mind as he immediately kisses you back.

The stimulation is positively overwhelming and you down realize you’re shifting in your seat until Eddie places a hand on your lower belly, grounding you back down against the couch.

“Someone’s getting a little turned on, huh?” he asks into your ear before nipping at your lobe. You pull back from Steve’s kiss to roll your eyes at Eddie’s teasing.

“I always get turned on when I’m high,” you argue. Steve begins kissing the other side of your neck and your eyelids flutter. Eddie pulls away from you to chuckle. His hand on your belly starts rubbing back and forth…and sliding lower.

“That true, Princess? We get high together pretty often. You always turned on around us?” he asks. Tauntingly. You go to respond with something snarky but his hand moves down to cup your heat through the fabric of your sweatpants and your lips part in a breathy inhale that makes him look too smug.

Before you can tell him to wipe the look off his face, Eddie surges forward to capture your lips again. Steve continues kissing his way down your neck, tugging the neckline of your shirt over to expose your collarbone so he can ravage that skin too. You feel Eddie’s hand leave your lap but barely notice due to the distraction of his mouth.

You don’t come to again until you hear Steve moan against your shoulder. You pull away from Eddie and look down to realize that Eddie had reached over you during your kiss and placed a hand over Steve’s crotch, palming the other man’s cock in his jeans. You swallow audibly and Eddie chuckles.

“Want me to touch you like this, sweetheart?” he asks. Your lip trembles and you want to shake your head. The three of you are friends, this is crazy. But you find yourself nodding and Eddie nods condescendingly along with you. “Yeah? Good thing I’ve got two hands.”

Eddie takes his free hand and drops it to your lap, making you immediately hiss when he cups your pussy again, this time delivering intentional rubs to the hood that hides your clit. You drop your head back against the couch and settle back, noticing hazily in your peripherals that Steve’s done the same thing, and take in the feeling of Eddie touching you in this salacious way.

“Feels good, huh Stevie?” Eddie asks when Steve shifts, lifting his hips into Eddie’s touch.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?” Steve huffs. It’s something he’s said a million times in response to Eddie’s flirtatious teasing, something he’s never really fed into or indulged.

Until now.

Eddie chuckles heartily.

“Maybe that argument holds more weight when you aren’t hard as a rock under my hand, Stevie.”

You loll your head to the side and watch Eddie’s hand working against Steve’s straining zipper.

“You’re hard, Steve?” You ask quietly. Stupidly, in fact, because you can see his outline under Eddie’s moving hand. But your brain isn’t exactly working under these circumstances. Steve’s head turns to take you in, too, his gaze dropping to Eddie’s hand on your lap, moving up to your heaving breasts, and then finally back to your face.

“Yeah. You wet?”

“Why don’t you check for yourself?” Eddie asks. He pulls away from both of you and you both gasp in disappointment. Eddie tsks and reaches for a fresh joint, the last one since burnt out in the ashtray. He moves to sit across from you and Steve on an armchair, lighting up and taking a drag. “Go ahead. Touch her, Stevie.”

Steve stares at Eddie for a good long while. Taking in the way the curly hair man settled into the chair, legs spread wide in a position of total ease. The end of his joint blazing in front of smirking lips while his own erection struggled to tent his own jeans.

You glance between both of them and are caught off guard when Steve grabs the side of your neck to pull you into a hungry kiss. You kiss him back and gasp when his hand finds the waistband of your sweatpants. It’s quick to slide under the fabric, bypassing your underwear entirely to slide a finger through your folds.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes against your lips. He turns to Eddie. “She’s soaked.”

Eddie releases two streams of smoke out of his nose and smirks.

“Yeah she is,” he says cockily, settling down even lower in the chair. “The real question is, sweetheart - who got you all hot and bothered? Me or Harrington?”

Steve’s head snaps over to look at you and you feel heat settle in every crevice of your body to be under the scrutiny of both men. You shrug.

“When I’m high I get -,”

“‘You get turned on’ blah blah,” Eddie taunts, waving the joint through the air. “You said that. And I believe you, Princess. You’re a freak and I know it.” He winks and your stomach flips again. “But seriously. What’s got you all wet and ready?”

Your eyelids flutter at that statement. Ready. Your mind has only been going second by second, not moving fast enough to think ahead. But the promise of something more to be ‘ready’ for has you clenching around Steve’s finger.

“Oh god, she just got tighter when you said that, Steve says, almost in a whine. He swirls his thumb around your clit and your hips buck upwards. Eddie laughs.

“You not telling the truth cuz you’re embarrassed sweetheart?” Eddie asks. He leans forward and puts the joint down on the ashtray, only to lean back completely at his leisure. “If you want both of us to fuck you, all you have to do is ask.”

Steve retracts his hand from your sweatpants and swallows audibly. You’re both staring at Eddie now, silence filling the room. This is wrong. It’s so wrong. But your heart is beating in your pussy and your blood is slogging through your veins and there’s cotton between your ears and when you turn to look at Steve his eyes are glazed over and equally hungry as Eddie’s as the slide over to survey you too. All the hesitation is gone from his face. So yours slips away too.

You turn back to look at Eddie and he’s got his hand on his lap, dragging back and forth over his hard on. You lick your lips, an action he doesn’t miss and which makes his grin widen.

“Yeah,” you finally say. You look at Steve and then back at Eddie. “I want you both to fuck me.”

[andvys]

Everlong // part five 

Warnings: Angst, jealousy, mentions of depression & anxiety, mentions of death, mentions of ptsd, physical fight, the boys throw some punches..., slut shaming

Pairings: Eddie Munson x fem!reader // Steve Harrington x fem!reader 

Summary: One night is all it took for everything to fall apart. Almost everything. 

Author’s note: @prettyboyeddiemunson thank you for helping me with some of the ideas for this part! <3 also, happy valentine’s day!

series masterlist 

-

As Steve is walking back and forth in his driveway, his mind keeps replaying the scene that happened in front of him mere minutes ago. He is both angry and hurt, his heart is hammering against his ribcage, his throat feels tight, angry tears fall from his eyes. He can’t believe that you kissed Eddie.

You love him, right? You don’t love Eddie, he is sure of that. You and Eddie are nothing but friends– he tries to convince himself of that but the kiss looked nothing like a kiss that was shared between two friends who played a drunken game of truth or dare.

You aren’t drunk and neither is Eddie, the kiss wasn’t just a kiss. The way you looked at him and the way you held onto him when you kissed him showed him that there is more than just friendship, no matter how many times he tries to deny it, it’s obvious.

He runs his fingers through his hair, he looks up into the dark sky and he takes a deep breath “man, what the fuck,” he mumbles to himself as he closes his eyes.

His mind takes him to the day at the diner, when you told him to let you go. He kissed you and you kissed him back but something felt off, he could tell that there was something on your mind or someone.

He thought about the movie night at his place. Him and Robin got suspicious of the marks and hickeys on his neck, Eddie looked at him with a smug face, like he did something that would anger him.

“You wouldn’t like the answer, Steve.”

His eyes open and he drops his hands, he lowers his head and his eyes fall on his car, suddenly it all begins to make sense.

Hot rage shoots through him, he clenches his hands into fist and huffs in anger.

“I can go on dates and hook up with other people too, right?”

You asked him to let you go, so you could move on. You asked him if he would be okay with you going on dates with other people, not because you wanted to find someone else but because you already found someone; Eddie.

Of course he noticed that you have gotten closer but he never questioned it. You and Eddie have always been friends but you weren’t close until recently.

He never questioned why both you and Eddie started to cancel plans with him, he never questioned why you suddenly always drive home with Eddie instead of him after you all hang out, he never questioned the looks that Eddie gives you, he never questioned the subtle touches between the two of you but now he questions it all.

Steve feels betrayed and cheated on. You promised him that you would wait for him, you promised him that you wouldn’t move on and yet you already did, with his best friend out of all people. And Eddie? He knows how he feels about you and yet he had no problem betraying his best friend like this.

“They always sat in history class together and he always stared at her with this look in his eyes and now look at them, that’s so romantic!”

Eddie has been pining after you for so long already. While he listened to Steve talking about you, he had spent time thinking about you himself. He always knew that Steve wanted you and yet that didn’t stop him from going after you, it didn’t stop him from trying to steal you away from him.

He storms back inside the house, the loud music suddenly hurting his head and all the people make him angry, the smell of vodka stings in his nose. He pushes past a few people and goes back into the room you have all been in but he finds it empty.

He slams his fist into the doorframe and steps back into the hallway.

He goes through every room, trying to find you and Eddie, the more time passes, the angrier he gets. A part of him feels nervous that he might find you and Eddie in one of the guest rooms or even worse, what if he finds you fucking in his bedroom? The thought leaves him seething.

But he doesn’t find you in his bedroom, he finds you and Eddie in the kitchen, he freezes as he walks in and for a moment, he does nothing but stare at the two of you.

You are sitting on the kitchen counter, Eddie is standing between your legs, his hands on your waist, his face buried in your neck as he presses kisses to your skin. Your arms are wrapped around his neck and your eyes are closed as you giggle.  

Steve’s heart drops to his stomach, his brows furrow and his eyes burn with tears.

“Eddie,” you giggle, moving your hands to his face, you cup his cheeks and pull him away from your neck “that tickles,” you mumble. Staring into his eyes, you smile as you pull him towards you “kiss me.”

“Gladly,” Eddie says before he smashes his lips against yours.

You moan against his lips and wrap your legs around his waist as you deepen the kiss.

Yeah, this is definitely nothing new. You and Eddie have kissed before and as he thinks of how flustered you looked at the garage yesterday, he knows that you have done more than just kissing.

His jaw clenches in anger and he feels the urge to push Eddie away from you and hit him.

Just as he opens his mouth to speak up, Robin stumbles in, through the living room “hey, lovebirds!”

You and Eddie pull away from each other and stare at your friend with shy looks on your faces.

“As cute as this is, I gotta steal y/n,” she grins, winking at Eddie who grows flustered. She grabs your hand, trying to pull you away from Eddie but he tightens his arms around your waist “nope, get your own girl, this one is mine.”

Both you and Robin burst into a fit of giggles.

“I wanna dance with her!” Robin exclaims, trying to push Eddie off of you.

He groans and rolls his eyes playfully “okay, fine.”

You smile at him and ruffle his hair as you press a kiss to his cheek, “I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere without me!”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Eddie smirks as he takes your hand, raising it to his lips, he kisses the top of your hand “I’ll wait for my princess.”

You giggle and Robin rolls her eyes “oh my god,” she mumbles as she pulls you away from Eddie and out of the kitchen.

Eddie looks at you like some lovesick puppy, a smile lingers on his face even after you’re gone. He looks deep in thought, a blush is coating his cheeks.

“What the fuck, Munson?”

Eddie’s smile falls and he turns around, eyes locking with Steve’s angry ones.

Steve walks closer to him, his fists are clenched and he looks like he is ready to fight him.

“What was that?”

Eddie shrugs, “what was what?”

He can see the rage in his best friend’s eyes and it makes him angry.

“The kiss back there, this kiss right now?” he asks, “explain that to me, why are you kissing my girl?”

A laugh leaves his lips and Eddie shakes his head “your girl?” he scoffs, “she is not your girl, man.”

“You know how I feel about her.”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at his best friend with a pissed off look on his face. If Steve just knew how Eddie feels about you, how he always felt about you.

“And you know damn well how she feels about me,” Steve says angrily.

“Are you fucking serious, Harrington? You say that now while you got some other girl here?” Eddie scoffs, shaking his head “tell me, how do you feel about y/n, when you take other girls out on dates or when you fuck other girls, hmm?” he asks.

Steve’s words only ever leave him with so much anger inside of him, his ignorance never fails to surprise him.

“What does that have to do with anything? You are touching something that doesn’t belong to you.”

Eddie’s eyes widen and a humorless laugh falls from his lips, “something?” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath “man, you are my best friend but you’re a real fucking asshole.”

“You’re one to talk, I told you how I feel about her, I told you that she is the girl I want to marry and yet you go behind my back and try to take her from me?” he asks as he inches closer to Eddie.

Eddie clenches his jaw, he uncrosses his arms and narrows his eyes as he looks into Steve’s darkened eyes “she doesn’t belong to you, I’m not taking her away from you,” he mumbles, “she’s not a fucking thing that you own, that you can just play with whenever you feel like it. You brought another girl here tonight, you touch her and kiss her in front of the girl that you call ‘yours’ and expect her to what– be okay with it? But the moment she kisses someone else, you react like this?” he scoffs as he points to his angry face and the glassy eyes “you expect her to be the ‘pretty little thing’ that waits around for you until you’re done fucking every girl in this shitty town but oh wait– she is supposed to be the cute little wallflower who waits for the asshole to swoop her up into her arms. Man, grow the fuck up. You don’t deserve her and you never fucking did.”

Steve looks into his eyes and right now he feels nothing but hate for the man he considers his best friend.

“And you do?” he mutters.

Eddie shrugs “I don’t know but I sure as hell know that I’d take better care of her than you ever could. Unlike you, I only ever had eyes for her.”

“So do I,” Steve mumbles, glaring at him.

Eddie can’t help but laugh, “yeah sure, man.”

Not feeling like talking to him anymore, Eddie pats his shoulder and turns to walk out of the kitchen, something that only leads Steve to get more angry.

“This is why you got so mad at me, right? Because you want her, because you want her to move on with you. Well guess what? That won’t happen.”

Eddie halts in his tracks, he stares at the ground, anger rising up in him.

“She loves me, Eddie. No matter what. You can take her out on dates, you can kiss her all you want but that’s all, I will always be the one that she will love.”

Eddie’s eyes darken and his face settles into an angry frown, his knuckles itch and it feels like the only thing that will relieve this tickling feeling is a punch to Steve’s face.

“Yeah well, guess what?”

Eddie doesn’t mean to bring this up, for all he knows, you still want to keep this a secret but with the way you kissed him in front of all your friends and even now, where anyone could have walked in, he guesses that you no longer care about anyone finding out about your little ‘affair’.

He turns around to look at his best friend.

“She begged me to make her forget about her feelings for you, so it doesn’t really seem like she wants to love you any longer, Steve,” he mocks him, tilting his head.

His eyes flash with hurt and he draws back a little “w-what?”

“She doesn’t want to love you anymore, she said so herself and guess who’s fault that is? Yours, man. It’s all your fault, you pushed her away from you, you kept breaking her heart over and over again and even if she does give you a chance, things will never be the way she wanted them to be because you ruined it, you broke her trust, you showed her that she is not good enough for you, can you imagine how much she was hurting?”

Steve opens his mouth to say something but Eddie cuts him off.

“No you can’t because you don’t care. If you did, you wouldn’t have done all of this, you wouldn’t have presented your girls to her, you wouldn’t kiss her and then tell her that you aren’t ready for a relationship because you keep wanting to have ‘fun’ and you definitely wouldn’t think it’s okay to hurt her, you can’t make it up to her, man. It’s too late, even if she’s gonna choose you in the end, a part of her is broken because of you.”

Steve shakes his head and he huffs angrily, he wants to say something, anything but he doesn’t. He looks down, trying to blink the angry tears away. In his head, he didn’t do anything wrong, it’s still Eddie who is at fault for this mess.

“Did you fuck her?”

Eddie needs a second to react, he blinks and stares at Steve with a dumbfounded expression. He really thought that he had changed, especially after everything he had gone through but a part of him was still King Steve.

“Are you fucking serious? That’s all you care about?” Eddie asks, the volume of his voice makes the other man flinch a little.

“I just asked you a question, Eddie,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Why do you care? Do you expect her to stay a virgin for you?”

Steve doesn’t answer his question, he just stares at him as though he still waits for the answer.

Eddie scoffs and throws his hands up “you know I really thought that you have changed but you are still a fucking asshole, King Steve.”

Eddie doesn’t wait for a reaction or a word from him, he turns away and walks out of the kitchen.

Steve swallows harshly, he grips onto the edge of the kitchen counter and closes his eyes. Anger and jealousy is deep in his bones and he feels like crying and screaming.

He is mad at Eddie and he is mad at you for hurting him like this.

He sighs and reaches for the whiskey bottle on the counter, he takes it and storms out of the kitchen.

-

Dancing with Robin quickly turned into dancing by yourself once Nancy was back from wherever she went when Robin came looking for you. For once, you have thought that she wanted to spend time with you because she just felt like it but of course she only came looking for you once her new best friend was nowhere to be found.

Robin is holding Nancy’s hands, they both laugh as they dance to the music. You watch the smile on Robin’s face as she leans in to whisper in her ear, something that makes the other girl giggle as she holds her hand in front of her mouth.

You don’t know why but seeing your best friend replace you so easily with someone else hurts you more than Steve picking other girls over you. You never thought that Robin would do this, you never thought that she would put someone else before you. You used to be inseparable and no one could come in between the two of you but things changed, they always did.

If your best friend, the one that you grew up with, the one that you did everything with, the one you shared all your secrets with, the one you almost died for could do this to you, then what can you expect from other people?

It’s always only a matter of time until someone better comes along and takes the spot that you only owned because you were the best option at that time.

You should just turn around and walk away but you need to talk to her, you need to know why she replaced you with Nancy out of all people– it’s not that you don’t like her, you do but she seems to get everything that you want.

First it was Steve and now it’s Robin.

You walk towards them and grab Robin’s hand, trying to get her attention. She turns to look at you, the smile on her face remains.

“Can we talk?”

“Huh?” she shouts over the music as she leans towards you.

“Can we talk, please?”

She nods and is about to pull Nancy along but you stop her, putting your hand on her shoulder “alone,” you say as you avoid looking at the other girl.

Her brows furrow and she turns towards Nancy “I–”

“It’s okay! I wanted to check on Jonathan, anyway!” she says cheerfully before she lets go of Robin’s hand and walks away. You watch her leave, walking towards Jonathan who talks to Eddie and Argyle.

Your eyes meet Eddie’s briefly and you give him a small smile before you turn back to Robin.

“Let’s go,” she says as she keeps holding your hand while she guides you out of the living room, pushing past a group of guys, she opens the front door and leads you out. You let go of her hand to cross your arms over your chest as you feel the cold wind on your bare arms.

You can hear the wind blowing through the trees and thunder rumbling somewhere far away.

“What do you wanna talk about?” Robin asks.

As you stand in front of her and look into her blue eyes, you can’t help but feel nervous. You never liked any type of confrontations, especially not with people that you care about.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest and you dig your nails into your palms as you think of what to ask first. She stares at you, waiting for you to speak up. She looks impatient and maybe even a little annoyed.

“Are you.. mad at me?” you ask slowly.

She frowns and tilts her head, “why would I be mad at you?”

“Well, we barely talked to each other since you came back and the summer is almost over. You are leaving soon and we haven’t hung out once together,” you shrug.

She furrows her brows and looks at you with a dumbfounded expression on her face, “what do you mean? We hang out all the time!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up, “we just danced together.”

“Yeah, you and Nancy danced together,” you say, huffing in annoyance “we only ever hang out when the whole group is together and even then, you hang out with Nancy and barely talk to me– hell, half of the time you act like I’m not even there and when you do it’s because Nancy is too busy with her boyfriend or whatever. Also, don’t forget about all the times that you have ditched me and canceled our plans just to hang out with her!”

You take a deep breath and look away as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

Guilt crosses her face and she sighs, she didn’t mean to me to hurt you like this, she never wanted to hurt you but truth be told, Robin felt herself drifting away from you, she started to lose interest. There was nothing wrong with you or your friendship but she grew out of it. Maybe it was just a phase but she needed distance from you.

“If you don’t want to be my friend anymore then that’s fine but don’t do this to me, just talk to me!”

She can see the tears in your eyes that are about to spill any moment, your hands are shaking and she doesn’t know whether it’s from the cold or from your anxiety.

She blinks, licking her lips, she looks away for a moment, “I-I do want to be your friend, I just–” she pauses, she avoids looking into your eyes “things aren’t the same anymore since last year.”

“Since you went to college you mean?”

“No,” she whispers, looking down at her hands, she starts to fiddle with her rings “since what happened in the upside down,” she mumbles, “with Eddie, I mean.”

Your face twists into confusion as you stare at her “what do you mean?”

“You haven’t been the same since that night. You shut everyone out after that.”

You had nightmares, every single night you saw him dying in your arms and there was nothing you could do about it, every night you woke up drenched in sweat with a racing heart and the same fear that you felt that night you held his dying body in your arms. You had to remind yourself that he was okay, that he made it out alive. Sometimes, you even called him just to hear his voice and make sure that he was okay– you needed to hear him, even if just for a second.

For the first time in years, you could finally let your guard down, you could finally rest, knowing that the upside down was gone forever, you should have been celebrating it but instead all the trauma caught up with you. All the fights took a toll on you that you haven’t felt all these years until you were finally able to rest.

You lost a part of yourself in the upside down but who could blame you? Who can just walk out of this as though nothing happened?

But it wasn’t the fights and the monsters that broke you, it was Eddie’s pleading voice and the way his glassy eyes looked back at you as he held your hand so tightly “don’t let go, please, don’t let go, y/n.”

You were struggling. You didn’t sleep much, you didn’t eat, you lost interest in things that you used to love. And it took you a while to get better but eventually you did. No one knew how much you were struggling and it was better that way, you didn’t want them to know.

“That’s not true,” you mumble as you sigh in disappointment, letting your arms fall to your sides “I never shut anyone out. You shut me out when you found someone better.”

She is getting frustrated and you can see it. Her eyes flicker with guilt but also with anger.

“That’s not true–”

“Yes it is,” you cut her off “and that’s okay. I just want to know why it was so easy for you to replace me with her. I mean, we’ve been best friends since we were little, we’ve known each other for years and then you spent a week with Nancy Wheeler and suddenly you are inseparable and I don’t matter to you anymore?”

Robin sighs and runs her hand through her short hair, she hesitates and looks around.

“This isn’t even about me, is it?” she asks.

“What?”

“It’s about Nancy! You’re pissed because it’s her– because I know you wouldn’t care if it was Eddie, Jonathan or even Argyle that I was hanging out with. You’re just angry that it’s the girl who once took the ‘love of your life’ away from you!” she says, mocking you.

She knows how much you were hurting when Steve asked you out on a date, just to cancel it to hang out with Nancy instead, shortly before they started dating.

Your eyes widen and you take in a sharp breath.

“Have you once asked yourself why I don’t want to hang out with you anymore?” she asks, “all you ever do is complain and whine about Steve, it’s tiring and I’m sick of hearing you complain about a love that will never happen!”

You know that she’s drunk, her red rimmed eyes and the way she slurs her words make it obvious. You know that you should have waited until tomorrow to talk to her but at least she gave you the truth now.

You feel angry and hurt. Yes, you did complain about Steve but she also complained about Vicky and her other crushes.

“You got someone who cares about you. Eddie likes you, so don’t fuck it up by talking about Steve all the time or he’s gonna get sick of you as well–” she stops and her eyes widen.

You blink, raising your brows, you nod as you look down.

So she did get sick of you and your friendship.

Robin sighs, “shit, I’m sorry–”

“No, it’s fine. You don’t need to explain yourself,” you shrug, acting like she didn’t break your heart.

“”I just– I just don’t think that we work out anymore. We aren’t the same people we used to be,” she mumbles, waiting for you to look up at her, “I still want to be your friend but–”

“You want distance, I get it,” you say, looking back at her, you notice the guilt in her eyes. She knows the damage she has caused and yet she will have no problem walking away from you and going back to her new best friend as though nothing ever happened.

“Yeah,” she whispers.

Robin goes back inside after you lie and reassure her that you are okay, that everything between the two of you is okay. You still stand in the same spot as you did before she left. Tears well up in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall, you close your eyes and take deep breaths.

The only sounds filling the silence is the music from inside the house and the wind blowing through the trees.

“Sucks doesn’t it? Being replaced.”

You open your eyes and turn around, you find Steve walking towards you. A half empty whiskey bottle in his hand, his hair a mess and his eyes glassy and red as though he had been crying for the past hour.

You blink your tears away and walk towards him as you eye him up and down.

“What the hell happened to you?” you ask.

The last time you saw him like this was when Nancy broke up with him. He came to your house late at night, drunk and crying. You held him and let him sleep in your arms.

You reach for the bottle and take it away from him “did you drink this all by yourself?” you gasp, staring at him wide eyed.

He ignores your question, a look of betrayal rests in his eyes “why did you do that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why did you kiss Eddie?”

Oh.

You did notice the empty spot next to his date after you pulled away from the kiss but you honestly couldn’t care less, you were too focused on Eddie and the smile on his face after you kissed him in front of your friends.

“Because I wanted to.”

He furrows his brows and blinks as a new wave of tears well up in his eyes “but I thought you love me.”

Do you? Do you still love him after everything that happened?

“Is that why you’re drinking?” you ask, raising the bottle, “because I kissed Eddie?”

“That’s why you asked me if you could go on dates with other people right? If you could hook up with other people? You wanted him!”

You don’t know where the rush of anger comes from but you can’t stop yourself from snapping at him “oh my god, you are such a hypocrite, Steve!”

He draws back, eyebrows snapping up in surprise “excuse me?”

“You go on dates, you fuck other girls all the damn time and claim to love me even though you do all of this. But the moment I kiss someone else, you act like I fucking cheated on you!”  

“That’s because you did!”

A surprised laugh falls from your lips.

“This is a joke right?”

His face remains serious and he gives you a look that says ‘do I look like I’m joking?’

You sigh and shake your head at his behavior “do I have to remind you that we aren’t dating?”

He clenches his jaw and takes a step towards you “but you are mine.”

“No, I’m fucking not.”

He huffs, raising his hand, he runs it through his messy hair and looks up into the dark sky. The anger in your voice and in your eyes throws him off. You have never acted this way towards him, you have never once snapped at him before but you have obviously changed and he wonders if your feelings have changed as well.

It’s all because of Eddie.

The thought of you and him together makes him blind with rage. Everything was fine until he pushed his way in between the two of you.

“I’m not yours and I have never been yours, Steve. You didn’t want me, remember? So don’t stand here and pretend to be my boyfriend when you’re not!”

Steve can’t believe you, he looks into your eyes and right now he sees nothing but resentment. Gone is the love and the softness in your eyes.

“We went through so much together and you are throwing it all away for.. him?”

You laugh and shake your head “I am not the one who threw it all away, you did.”

“I have loved you ever since we were little kids, Steve!” you exclaim as you feel the frustration building up in you, the anger and the pain all catching up with you as you look into his glassy eyes.

“I have waited for you, for years and years but look what you did to us! You choose other people over me all the goddamn time. You broke my heart, you played with me and my feelings!”

It all goes over his head, there is only one thing that he cares about.

“Did you fuck him?”

Your shoulders slump and you roll your eyes as you lean your head back for a moment before you meet his eyes again.

You are done, you’ve had enough.

“Yeah. I’ve been fucking him this whole summer!”

His eyes went wide and his mouth twisted into a frown. His heart dropped and for a moment he just froze.

“He fucked me in his trailer, in my apartment, in your bathroom, he even fucked me on your car yesterday and I fucking loved it, every second of it,” you spit those words out and they lift the heavy weight off of your shoulders. The hurt look on his face does nothing to you in that moment– if anything, you feel good knowing that he finally gets to feel what you felt all these years.

Steve blinks, he doesn’t know whether he wants to cry or to scream but the moment that Eddie walks out of the house and comes looking for you, rage and anger take over him and he looks back down at you.

You, the girl who swore to wait for him, the girl who swore to love him no matter what hurt him in ways he can’t even begin to describe.

He can’t stop himself, everything inside of him screams at him not to say those words and yet they fall from his lips anyway.

“You’re a desperate slut.”

Your lips part in surprise and you feel as though you have been punched, you freeze and stare at him in shock.

Steve regrets his words right away, his face falls and his heart jumps as he realizes what he just did.

Eddie’s eyes widen as well, his chest burns with anger and he clenches his hands into fists as he walks towards Steve “what did you just say to her?”

You step away, watching him through your blurry vision, your hands begin to shake and your heart starts racing as you see the anger on his face, “Eddie–” you gasp as he throws a punch at Steve’s face, who stumbles back in surprise, falling to the ground, he grunts in pain.

Eddie steps forward and leans down, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, “you wanna say that again, asshole?”

You watch them in shock, you want to jump forward and pull Eddie away. You don’t want them to fight because of you.

Steve looks up at his friend, turning his head, he spits the blood out “fuck you, Eddie,” he mumbles, taking him off guard, he throws a punch at him causing him to stumble back in surprise.

“Eddie!” you gasp, you finally drop the bottle you were holding this whole time and rush towards him, wincing as Steve throws another punch at him. This time it’s Eddie who falls to the ground and your heart instantly stops as you get reminded of the night in the upside down. When he was lying on the ground, struggling to breath, struggling against the pain in his body.  

You run towards Steve, stepping in between him and Eddie before he can throw another punch, you place your hands on his chest and push him away “don’t touch him!”

His eyes flicker with hurt as he looks down at you “y/n–”

“Stop, just stop!” you snap at him.

He watches the tears fall from your eyes, your bottom lip is quivering and you look at him with so much hatred in your eyes.

You step away from him and turn towards Eddie, who sits up, holding his hand up to his nose.

“Eddie,” you whisper as you kneel in front of him, pushing his hands away, you grab his face and look at him in worry.

Eddie can feel your shaky hands, you sniffle, trying not to cry. His eyes soften as he hears you say “I’m sorry.”

Steve watches the two of you, he breathes heavily. His anger won’t disappear, if anything, it keeps getting worse. He wants to hit Eddie, again and again. His feet carry him forward, he sees red, his hands are shaking from how tightly he clenches them. He can’t stand the sight of you taking care of Eddie that way, looking at him as though you love him, as though you only ever loved him while you turn your back to the one you always claimed to love.

“Hey! What’s going on?”

You look over Eddie’s shoulder, Argyle and Jonathan make their way towards you, confused and worried expressions on both their faces as they look between you three.

Eddie grabs your hand as you both get up, you hold his tightly, scared that he and Steve will throw more punches at each other, you put your hand on his chest, looking into his eyes “please, can we just go?” you whisper to him.

The action and looks you share with Eddie seem to anger Steve even more, he steps forward, wanting to pull you away from Eddie but Argyle steps in before he can touch you.

“That’s enough big guy,” Argyle mumbles as both him and Jonathan stop next to you and Eddie.

Jonathan eyes him warily. Steve stares at Eddie the way he once stared at him before they had gotten into a fight.

“Let’s go inside,” Argyle says to Steve as he slowly approaches him.

Steve shakes his head.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, pushing Argyle’s hand off his shoulder before he walks towards you again but this time it’s Jonathan pushing him back.

“Don’t touch me, Byers! Don’t you fucking touch me!” he yells at Jonathan who tells him to calm down. 

You have never seen Steve this angry and violent but it scares you.

“Let’s go, Eddie. Please,” you whisper, tugging at his hand.

His eyes meet yours and they soften when he sees the scared look in your eyes.

“Please.”

He nods.

“Okay.”

If you had known what this night would turn into, you would have never come to this party.

Friendships broke tonight.

Not just yours and Robin’s but also Steve’s and Eddie’s.

Guilt weighs heavy on your shoulders. Steve looked at Eddie with so much hatred in his eyes, he didn���t even hesitate to hurt him back and it’s all your fault.

You never wanted this to happen.

Tears roll down your cheeks as you walk into your apartment, keeping your head low so that Eddie won’t see you cry but he isn’t stupid, you kept staring out the window on the drive home, not looking at him even when he asked you questions. He heard your quiet sniffles and you refused to let him see you cry.

He doesn’t know whether it’s because of what Steve called you or because of something that happened before Eddie found the two of you arguing in the empty driveway.

You are crying because of the argument with both Steve and Robin but you are also crying because of all the flashbacks and pictures in your head after you Steve punched Eddie hard enough for him to fall to the ground as blood began to drip down nose and lips.

“Wait for me in the bedroom? I’ll be right there,” you say quietly as you walk into the bathroom and shut the door.

Eddie nods to himself, he turns to look at himself in the mirror, you wiped all the blood away when you got into his van, the spot under his eye is aching though and he already knows that he will spot an ugly bruise.

He hears your cries in the bathroom, his heart breaks at the sound. He turns around and stares at the door, he can’t just walk away and wait while you struggle all by yourself so he walks in, despite you telling him to wait for you.

His eyes soften at the sight of you sitting on your bathroom floor, holding your knees against your chest as you cry.

“Hey,” Eddie whispers softly, he kneels down in front of you and cradles your face in his hands “sweetheart,” he sighs.

Your cheeks are wet, your eyes are all red and puffy already, the mascara runs down your cheeks. Your bottom lip is trembling. You look into his eyes and put your hand over his.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you whisper shakily.

Eddie furrows his brows, shaking his head “what are you sorry for?”

“Everything.”

Your shoulders begin to shake and you shut your eyes tightly, you press your lips together as you try to keep yourself from sobbing.

“Oh, y/n.”

He sits down next to you and grabs your waist, pulling you on top of his lap so he can hold you. You lay your head on his chest and wrap your arms around him. Eddie holds you tightly, running his fingers through your hair.

“Shh, it’s okay baby,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head.

His heart breaks at the sound of your cries, he does his best to calm you down but he figures this is exactly what you needed. Crying it out.

You rarely show your vulnerable side, you never cry in front of other people, you keep it all to yourself, you are the one who stays strong for others but you can’t do it tonight. It’s all too much and Eddie can tell that you are not just crying because of what happened at the party, it’s all the things that came catching up to you.

You breathe his scent in, you focus on his voice and on his heartbeat. His touch makes you feel warm and comforted. Being with him feels like being at your favorite place, where the sun shines down on your skin and you can let go of your pain and forget about all the things that cause trouble to your mind. With him, you feel free, you feel light and safe. You can let yourself fall knowing that he will be there to catch you.

“I got you, Sweetheart,” he whispers.

You move your arms around his shoulders and bury your face in his neck, hugging him tighter than before. He rubs your back and leans down to kiss your shoulder.

Eddie closes his eyes as he rests his head on your shoulder, breathing your sweet scent in. Your cries quiet down after a while but you remain cuddled against him, not letting go just yet. He can feel your hand in his hair, brushing through his curls.

You whisper something under your breath but your words are incoherent and he can’t make out what you said but he feels surprised to feel you clinging to him the way you do.

He felt surprised when you kissed him earlier. He felt surprised when you jumped in front of him when Steve went to attack him for a second time.

He doesn’t know what to think or what to feel but tonight, you chose him. Not Steve. 

Tonight you are his. 

He pushes all the anger and all the pain away, wanting to focus on just you. 

“Eddie,” you whisper as you lean back to look at him, raising your hands towards his face, you lay your palm against his cheek and look into his pretty chocolate brown eyes.

“Yes?”

He brushes your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ears.

“I’m sorry that he hurt you,” you whisper as you stare at him with your glassy eyes. Resting your thumb on his cheekbone, you eye his face, making sure that he has no other injuries.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is, he wouldn’t have done this–”

“He’s a hypocrite. You aren’t his girlfriend and you and I can do whatever the hell we want, okay?” he mumbles, giving you a pointed look.

“But he hurt you,” you mutter, moving your thumb down to his lips, “I never wanted this.”

“I know you didn’t.”

For a moment, you are quiet as you look into his eyes and you realize just how lucky you are to have him here with you.

“I was so scared,” you whisper.

Eddie doesn’t know that you are talking about a different night.

“Nothing happened, I’m okay, you hear me?” he whispers as he leans in, kissing your lips “I’m okay, I’m here.”

You nod, putting your hands over his.

“Now let me clean you up, you’re a mess, baby,” he smiles a little as he pinches your cheek.

“Okay,” you whisper.

He expects you to get up but instead you lay your head on his shoulder again causing him to chuckle.

“You want some cuddles?” he smiles.

You nod against him, “yes,” you place your palm on his chest, looking up at him “will you stay with me?”

“Always.”

He smiles down at you, you lean up a little and press your lips against his. He kisses you back right away, cradling your face as he closes his eyes. The kiss is sweet, soft and gentle and yet you feel every single emotion he pours into the kiss.

Your heart flutters just the way his does. Your kisses and your touches always feel so magical to him, like they heal him and give him strength, they make him feel your love.

You stay in his arms for a few more minutes before you get up, to clean your face, you look into the mirror and sigh as you see the mascara streaks on your face “I look horrible.” 

Eddie chuckles as you pout, “nah, you’re adorable.” 

You smile as you stare back at him through the mirror, you reach for your cleanser and turn the water on. Eddie remains standing behind you, he gathers your hair, pulling it back, he grabs one of the scrunchies on the counter and puts your hair into a ponytail before he leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, he watches you with a small smile on his face. 

He is upset by what happened tonight. Steve hurt him without a moment of hesitation, he looked at him like he hated him and Eddie can’t deny and say it doesn’t hurt because it does. He is his best friend but he also hurt you and that is not okay. 

“Let me,” Eddie says as he reaches for the moisturizer in your hand. 

“Okay,” you whisper, smiling as you watch him place it back on the counter, he washes his hands quickly before he grabs the moisturizer again, opening the little container, he gathers some of the cream and puts it on your skin, tapping your nose, playfully. 

He looks concentrated, his brows are furrowed, his tongue pokes out between his lips as he applies the moisturizer. 

Eddie is beautiful, everything about him is beautiful. 

You love his chocolate brown eyes and the way they look back at you with so much softness in them. 

You love his plump lips and the way they feel against yours when you kiss. 

You love the way his hands always feel so gentle on your skin. 

You love the way his hair shines so prettily in the sun and even the way they tickle you whenever he buries his face in your neck. 

You love his voice, you love hearing it in the morning and late at night when he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. 

You love his laugh and the way it makes your heart flutter. You love the way he makes you feel. 

Your face grows serious as you into his eyes, your breath hitches in your throat as you heart starts beating strongly in your chest. 

You always tried to make sense of your fear and of the pain that you have felt when he almost died in your arms and when you woke from your nightmares every night after that moment but you never understood, not until now. 

“Wanna have some of the leftover chocolate cake?” he asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

You nod, smiling. 

“Come on then.” 

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you lean in and kiss his cheek, he places his hands on your waist. 

“I adore you,” you whisper. 

He smiles, “yeah?”

You nod. 

“I adore you, Sweetheart.”  

And I love you. You both think to yourselves. 

-

@prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @lnnlove @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @strangermarvelss @yogizzz @metalhead-succubus @aftermidnightwriting @somethingvicked @shelbycillian @lorielulu7 @munsonsuccubus @tlclick73 @manda-panda-monium @hey-rowan @sherrylyn628 @luna-munson83 @qnsfwthoughts @mxcheese @e0509 @eddielives1986 @tvandfanfic @miarosso @m4nulup1n @likeficsinthewnd @hazydespair @ogoc-19 @mopeymopeymouse @clilxlx @yssnxiw @sweet-villain @soanxiousimcalm @olrjmarvete @personofyou @thewritersoldier1918 @levylovegood @elvendria @honeyglee @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @aysheashea @littletittygothgirl @freeshavocadoooo @sllooney @gracieluvthemoon @martaboj92 @let-love-bleeds-red @kissylovie @sheisjoeschateau @big-ope-vibes @i-me-mine @turtlehyung @corrcdedcoffin @spookycreepycookie @freezaz123 @boinkybarness @babyloutattoo89

[munsonhoneybaby]

i’d love to see a drabble or a blurb with eddie and the fishnets👀

yet again this one got away from me lol so it's a little long for a drabble but i hope you enjoy !!

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering

A/N: takes place in the too much in common realm but isn't a part of the main series !! song is witchy woman by the eagles <3

In a town like Hawkins, there weren’t many occasions that fishnets were suitable for. So, by the time you did eventually wear them again, you had pretty much forgotten about the ‘promise’ you’d made Eddie. He hadn’t, of course.

“Are you sure we have to go, baby?” His fingers clawed at your hips through the thin black dress you wore. “C’mon, let’s just stay in tonight.”

“I didn’t just spend two hours getting ready to ‘stay in’. Plus, I’m excited. I like getting out of town and doing things every now and then, and Steve said this place is supposed to be really cool.” You eyed him in the mirror as you swiped on some lip gloss. The red of his button-up was so deep it was almost black, tucked into his black jeans with the top three buttons undone. Silver chains hung from his belt loops, matching his rings and the barbell in his tongue that had just recently finished healing. Another silver chain sat around his wrist which was soon joined by a hair tie, his boots thudding heavily– even on the carpet– when he grabbed it from your nightstand.

“I don’t know how much of a club person I’m gonna be,” He warned you. “I don’t really dance.”

“Just because you don’t doesn’t mean you can’t,” You pointed out. “And you don’t really have to dance, I’m not expecting you to waltz. You just have to grind on me, and that I know you can do.”

He gave a conceding sigh. “Fine, I guess if it’s an excuse to dry hump you in public we can go.”

“Ever the romantic, Munson.”

The others were already ordering the first round when you got there, the bartender passing out shots until you reached the bar and Steve pushed two more toward you. “Took you guys long enough!” He called over the music.

“Can’t rush perfection, Harrington.” Grabbing the small glass, you passed the other one to Eddie. Knocking it back, you determined it was vodka and not tequila with a grateful nod to Robin. “Are we getting a table?”

“You two grab one, I wanna get another round!” Robin shouted back with enthusiasm.

Flashing her a thumbs up, you grabbed a hold of Eddie’s hand and ushered him toward a big, dimly lit corner booth. “There’s a lot ‘a people here,” He observed as you set your purse on the table.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Drawing him in with your arms around his neck, you hummed, “Just you ‘n me, as far as I’m concerned.”

He palmed at your ass through the silky black satin of your dress as he countered, “The things I’d do to you if it were just you ‘n me would get us arrested if I did them here, babe.”

“Alright, you guys can play grab-ass in a minute, we’re doing more shots!” Steve called as the three of them approached the table, all of them carrying at least one.

“No more for me, I’ve gotta take her home after all this.” Leaning over your shoulder, he prepared to push it back across the table to Steve but was stopped by your hand over his.

“Uh, excuse you. I can drink for two, thank you.” Holding his hands up in surrender, he raised his eyebrows, making a smile crack through your falsely offended expression. He didn’t blink as he watched you swallow down one shot after the other. A clear droplet escaped your mouth, rolling down your neck to disappear between the valley of your breasts and into your dress. He could so vividly imagine how it would taste to follow the intoxicating trail with his tongue.

His gaze was ripped from your chest by the snap of Steve’s fingers, who was giving him a knowing, playfully chastising look. “Could you keep it in your pants a little while longer, Munson?”

You were too engrossed in a conversation with Nancy to pay them any mind as he responded. “Shh, you’re gonna get me in trouble. And I’ll have you know, I have the patience of a saint,” He added unconvincingly.

That finally got your attention, making you let out a little snort. “Oh-kay, babe, if you say so.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just c’mon, I’m ready to dance!”

“You mean you’ve drank enough to now?” He scoffed as you dragged him away from the table.

“Yep!” The music vibrated through the floors as you led him through the half-crowded dance floor. You weaved through the various friends, couples, and parties until you found a comfortable gap. Your boyfriend just chuckled and shook his head.

Turning to face him, you let your arms settle loosely around his neck once again as you moved to the music. His hands squeezed at your waist before moving lower to knead at the small of your back. The two of you eyed each other lovingly, with you brushing a few unruly strands of hair back from his face as he admired the hazy halo the lights cast around you. Before you could think of something to say to excuse your silent drooling, the sound of the next song beginning distracted you. The soft, deep thrum of guitars and bass had the faintest excited gasp escaping your lips. “I love this song!”

raven hair and ruby lips

sparks fly from her fingertips

echoed voices in the night

she’s a restless spirit on an endless flight

His hands held you steady as you bowed back ever so slightly, head tilting as you swayed in his arms. You slowly began to wind your hips in time with the music, silently mumbling the chorus. Eddie smiled softly, humming along as he watched your eyes fall closed.

woo-hoo, witchy woman

see how high she flies

woo-hoo, witchy woman

she got the moon in her eye

He caught you by surprise when he took both of your hands, spinning you and bringing his arms over your head to cross around your waist. You giggled and squealed quietly, tilting your head to look over your shoulder at him as your back pressed to his chest. “See, Munson, you’ve got moves!”

“As long as I still don’t have t’a dust off my waltz, I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve,” He promised.

 

she held me spellbound in the night

dancin’ shadows and firelight

crazy laughter in another room

and she drove herself to madness with a silver spoon

You could already feel him half-hard against you as you wound your hips more intently. Eddie’s fingers dragged up your fishnet-covered thighs, lifting the skirt of your dress dangerously high before moving to grab at your waist again. “Driving me fuckin’ crazy, baby. Know I love you so much, right?”

Head falling back against his chest, you gazed up at him with glossy eyes and a tipsy grin. “I love you too, Eds. Love you so much.” His hands wandered, rubbing over your sides and your stomach as his hips ground into you. Your own hand reached back to wind into his hair, curls growing frizzier in the warmth of the club. Goosebumps began to raise on your skin when he mouthed sloppily at your neck, teeth grazing a sensitive spot before lifting to tug at your earlobe. With the way the blood was rushing in his veins and his head was starting to swim, he may as well have been as drunk as you. The sweet smell of your perfume and the taste of your skin was still enough to make the room spin.

woo-hoo, witchy woman

see how high she flies

woo-hoo, witchy woman

she got the moon in her eye

Far be it from him to complain when you grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him in the direction of the bathroom before the song could even reach its instrumental break. You had never been so grateful for a single-person restroom in your life. Eddie hissed and laughed when you let the door slam shut, fingers clawing at the buttons of his shirt as he reached around you to lock it.

You only managed to get two of the buttons undone before his hand covered yours, pressing it against his chest to stop you as he chuckled softly. “Baby, baby– not here.”

Huffing, you pouted up at him. “Then why’d you let me bring you in here?”

“Well, it wasn’t to strip naked in a public bathroom,” He confirmed. Urging you backward, he didn’t stop until your lower back met the sink counter. “I do seem to remember a promise a certain someone made me a couple months ago, though.”

“Eddie,” You whine. Clutching at his shirt, you tried to draw his body to yours completely as he stood between your legs. “I don’t remember, just touch me. I’ll do whatever you want me to later, but–”

“Oh, I’m gonna need that in writing, babe. Right now, though, you just have to lean back and spread your legs f’me. Okay, sweet girl?”

Nodding, you were already sighing in relief when his hands guided your thighs back toward your chest. He peeled your panties to the side from underneath your fishnets, and it wasn’t until you felt his tongue drag through the wetness he found there that you finally remembered the oh-so-important promise you’d made. 

well, i know you want a lover; let me tell you, brother

she’s been sleepin’ in the devil’s bed

and there’s some rumors going ‘round, someone’s underground

she can rock you in the nighttime ‘til your skin turns red

You were already a mess, your dress bunched around your waist and straps falling off your shoulders. Your disheveled hair wouldn’t be so easy to fix, but it was clear to see you had little concern for what your fellow patrons would think. No, you were too focused on the feeling of Eddie sliding two fingers into you as his tongue ring massaged your clit.

If he were a responsible boyfriend, he would remind you to quiet down, but he just couldn’t help himself. He loved when you got drunk– loved when he could see the tension in your shoulders melt away and you got warm, and giggly, and loud– loved when you’d moan and gasp his name without even realizing you were doing it because the first and only thing you were thinking about was how good he made you feel. 

So, when you cried out that you were gonna come, he didn’t stop. He didn’t hush you, or cover your mouth with his hand. He just crooked his fingers to the spot he knew always made your insides melt and hummed encouragingly against the wet warmth of your cunt, mesmerized by the sight of you writhing on the counter before him.

Hips still twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, you pulled him to you for a sloppy kiss that had him panting like a dog in heat. The doe-eyed look you gave him when you finally spoke was almost enough to make him drop to his knees for you a second time. “Take me home, Eds.”

woo-hoo, witchy woman

see how high she flies

woo-hoo, witchy woman

she got the moon in her eye

<3

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[dreamwatch]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Prompt: Pride | Word Count: 1031 | Rating: M | CW: Alcohol/drug abuse, driving under the influence, car accident | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth Stranger Things, past Steddie, Eddie is a very bad boy, possibly downright unlikeable, ambiguous ending

“Eddie, don’t.”

“Come on, man.” 

“Don’t be stupid, Eddie!”

He’s not listening, not tonight. Tonight he has a calling from on high. Tonight he has places to be, a person to see. A person to touch.

Tonight he’s driving

He climbs into the car, his beautiful Ferrari bought with the spoils of fame. There are three cars in his garage, but this is the fastest. This is the one he wants to be in tonight. It’s a racer, meant for speed, a rocket ship of possibilities. 

There are voices behind him, the band arguing amongst themselves. Maybe they’re shouting at him, but he’s not listening. He’s only had a two or three vodkas, and coke doesn’t have the same effect on him as it used to, back when he was a kid and all this was new to them. The pills were nothing, just something to keep him awake, something to chill him out. But he’s older now and those things aren’t new anymore. Booze and drugs are supplements, part of the regime, part of his five a day. It’s fine. It doesn’t mean anything.

It’s Gareth that follows him, climbing in beside him a second before Eddie turns the key in the ignition and the car roars to life.

“Eddie, what the fuck are you doing, man? Come back inside.”

“Get out.”

“I’m not—”

“Get out!”

Gareth buckles his seat belt tight and glares at him.

“Fine,” Eddie spits at him. “Fuck you then.”

He revs the engine repeatedly, the vibration like electricity through his body. It only goads him on. He slams his foot to the pedal and the car streaks out of his garage and onto the streets.

The city is magical at night, blinding lights, a stratospheric glimmer of colour. He knows if he was walking out on the road it would be quiet, there’d be no sound, just the occasional car speeding past on the empty streets, just like he is now. There’s music in the car, a blasting thump of drums and bass and he feels his foot drop on the accelerator; he doesn’t look at the speedometer because he doesn’t care. Part of him wishes he’d taken the bike, his black Yamaha that barely gets ridden anymore, then Gareth would still be back at the house with Jeff and Matt and their girlfriends, and not with him shouting for him to slow down. 

“—wait till tomorrow. Nothing will have changed. Let’s just go back, you can talk to him tomorrow, okay?”

Eddie doesn’t like to be ignored, doesn’t like his calls going unanswered. So no, actually, it won’t wait. He wants him tonight. Deserves to have Steve tonight.

“Eddie, slow down.”

“No.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie! It’s red!”

It’s a challenge, him against the stop light, him against the cross traffic. The road is empty, he knows it will be fine, Gareth just worries too much. He always has. Cocky until he’s not, that’s Gareth. If nothing else it will be a good lesson for him. Eddie didn’t want him here so he can consider this his punishment. 

Eddie floors the gas pedal, the engine butter smooth as it gives him the speed he wants, and he howls out of the open window as he flies through the stop light, laughing into the hot summer night.

Gareth is heaving in deep breaths beside him and it only makes him laugh more, he can barely hear himself over the sound of the engine and the music. 

The Ferrari speeds over the freeway and he feels like he’s flying. He feels like he’s free, and when the fuck was the last time he felt like that? His face is everywhere, his every second accounted for, every moment of his life planned. Stand here, wear this, do what we tell you, say what we tell you. He just needs a moment to fly.

Gareth is on the phone, but the engine noise and music drown out whatever he’s saying. Eddie doesn’t really care. He can call Jeff, he can call Wayne, fuck, call the cops for all he cares. What are they going to do? He’s Eddie fucking Munson.

He lifts his foot of the gas just a little, just enough so that when he floors it again he can feel it. It’s like warp speed, he’s Han Solo and Gareth is Chewbacca and the laughter fires through him again, the utter absurdity of it all. He loves his life.

He hates everything.

When he checks on Gareth he looks like he’s going to be sick, and there’s no fucking way he’s going to be sick in his Ferrari, so he lays off the gas. Gareth hangs his head out of his own window, the wind blowing his hair back. It’s warm out tonight, it just makes everything headier. Makes his need feel deeper.

He needs Steve. It’s in his head now, can’t sleep, can’t sleep, can’t sleep, can’t be without Steve. That there, that’s the heart of it, he doesn’t know how to be without him. Can’t get his head around him leaving, can’t comprehend why he’d walk out on this. They had everything, Eddie gave him everything, and he threw it back at him. Like, how fucking dare he work, go out on the road, make money for them? They were fine, they had a system, it worked for him, it worked for Steve, he’d have said if didn’t. It was Robin getting in Steve’s head again, telling him this wasn’t normal, ‘it’s not a relationship if you’re never together, Steve’, and when did she become such a meddling cunt? 

He drops his foot on the accelerator.

It’s not instant. The streaks of light are lining the road, leading him to heaven, and then it’s the light polluted sky he sees, the distant glimmer of weak stars filling the windscreen. He thinks Gareth is screaming beside him, but Eddie’s not scared. He feels like he’s floating, feels the hot night air whip around him, feels the dizzying spin of the car, his own fairground ride in the sky. The strips of white lining the asphalt rise up to meet him. 

He never feels the hit.

Yes it's essentially Blinding Lights by The Weeknd, but this prompt was fighting me so hard and I've spent days trying to make another story work and it just wasn't. Then this came on, and yes I may have looped it for half an hour while I wrote, but I competed the prompt!

@the-unforgivenn