#fiction: steve harrington

[worldoffeelings]

#robin's love lenguage is annoy the shit out of steve

[actually-mentally-ill]

finding out making up whole detailed scenarios with fictional characters in your head is a “sign of mental illness”

[kurogxrix]

me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

[imfinereallyy]

you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

[lazylittledragon]

steddie dads??? in my 2024??? it's more likely than you'd think

[realangelahernandez]

Go to therapy or read another fan fiction of your favorite fictional character?

[arelliann]

For @stevieweek : Sports

I love preppy ethereal goddess Stevie, but the other part of Steve's character is very much the big beefy barbarian jock archetype and I think we need more of the best of both worlds (p.s. fuck yeah buff trans women)

[sp0o0kylights]

Give meee: an Eddie who went into a small little bookshop on an Indie trip and stumbled across an in person fandom meeting. 

It's mostly Star Trek, and also mostly women, but the stories they have are nothing like Eddie's ever read. 

He's barely a teenager, and already protective of himself and his real identity--but everything he's ever wanted is written down, right here, on a little zine with Kirk and Spock doodled on the cover. 

They’re not--it’s not obvious, that they’re what he is, but the story itself is blatant and Eddie ends up being so obviously close to tears, he accidentally outs himself without ever saying a word. 

(He also ends up on the mailing list, then being sent home with several hand printed copies of all kinds of zines.) 

Eddie would remain on this list well past his third senior year in high school. 

Past bats, and Vecna and Steve fucking Harrington. 

Flash forward to his first apartment.The tiny one he shares with Steve when they followed Nancy and Robin to college. 

Steve knows Eddie’s gay. 

Or rather, Steve has been told, but Eddie's still pretty clammed up about it. He's not yet where Robin is, ready to bemoan her loveless existence while draped over their crappy, thrifted couch.

He makes jokes and he flirts and he absolutely says things he shouldn't, but none of it is real. 

It's flash. Showmanship. 

It's the persona that yes, is him, but Eddie consciously built it. There’s nothing soft or gooey there, nothing anyone can use to hurt him. 

So when he comes home and sees that plain, padded envelope with the neatly printed label on the counter, torn wide open and flat without its contents?

 Eddie panics. 

His heart thunders in his chest, vision tunneling as adrenaline kicks through him. 

He wants to bolt-- should bolt--except ever since he almost died his brain no longer obeys him. 

Not when it comes to running, anyway. 

Instead it fights him to a standstill, freezing his feet right to the living room floor. 

The urge is still there. 

To run, and save face the cowards way. 

Vanish before Steve could get at a part of him that had once kept Eddie out of Wayne’s trailer for two days, until the old man had hunted him down and made him come home, huffing about how he’d love Eddie no matter what but he better never disappear like that again. 

(Which Eddie did anyway, and of everything that happened with Vecna, it’s that he regrets the most. The stories he heard of Wayne putting up posters. Squaring off with angry, too-righteous townies, and--)

A sniffle jerks him out of his thoughts. 

Eddie gasps, entirely unsure of when he stopped breathing. Stumbles back and turns, right in time for Steve to come out of his room and amble down their hallway. 

One hand rubs at his eyes, and the other is--the other has…

Eddie identifies the cheaply printed, stapled zine immediately. It's one he's wanted to read for a while now, solely because it features a story about Kirk and Spock being stuck in a cave together on a planet that has  bat-like, vicious animals on it. 

Kirk gets bitten after something goes wrong with the transporter and, look, it’s carthiatic okay!? Sue a guy for wanting to read a romance about a situation he identifies with! 

Steve looks up from the zine and startles. 

For a second his eyes go dark and flat, the same way Eddies and Robins and Nancy's and everyone's does when caught off guard. 

It's gone in a flash though, Steve visibly relaxing when he clocks that it's just Eddie. 

He keeps the zine pressed to his sweater clad chest,  and huffs out a laugh that's half forced and half pure relief.

“Fuck Eds, you scared me! I didn’t know you could be quiet.” 

“Uh huh.” Eddie manages, voice sounding totally and absolutely normal and not at all ten octaves higher than it usually is. 

They stare at each other for a second. Long enough that Steve's eyebrows crinkle in the middle, which is the first hint that he’s beginning to worry, and Eddie really cannot handle Steve being worried right now.  

“What's--” Eddie’s voice cracks and he coughs to recover. “what's that?” 

Steve frowns at him for a moment, until Eddie gestures at the zine in his hands. 

“Oh!”

Steve holds it up, as if to show it off. 

“It's a little book Robin got in the mail. It has a bunch of stories in it. They're normally boring as fuck but this one's from Star Trek.” 

Hearing the words ‘Star Trek’ out of Steve’s mouth shouldn’t be weird, not anymore, when Eddie and Dustin have been on a two man mission to nerdify Harrington as much as possible, but it still kicks like a mule to hear him say such things without any prompting. 

“You know what Star Trek is?”

“Eddie,” Steve tuts, tongue clicking in his mouth. “everyone knows what Star Trek is. It’s nerd shit, but like, old nerd shit. My grandparents used to watch it when I stayed over. This?” 

 He shakes the zine, so hard Eddie wants to snatch it away from him.

 “This isn't nerd shit. This is excellent.”

Steve gives the zine an appreciative glance and hell, maybe Eddie accidentally walked into another dimension. 

He’s been trying to get Steve to read more, rediscover the joys of books the public school system does its best to destroy, but until now Steve hasn’t really taken to it. 

Enjoys when Eddie reads aloud sometimes, and has started to bug Robin to do it for him too, but otherwise?

Eddie’s nerve seen him with anything that had the written word on it that wasn’t a cooking or car related magazine. 

“Honestly,” Steve’s saying, “I think Robs fucked up, this isn't her style at all. She’s gonna be pissed.” 

He eyes the thing appreciatively, like the gift it is. 

“I'm stealing it the second she figures that out.” He adds decisively. 

“You like it?” Eddie asks. 

“Mmm.” 

“Even though it's--it's got…Kirk…” 

Steve's frowning at him again. “What?” 

“It's queer man. It's really queer.” 

Steve peers at him, the crinkle back in his eyebrows. 

“I know. Wait, how do you--” 

And well. It’s now or never. 

“It's mine.” Eddie says in a rush.

“No it's not.” Steve scoffs, and okay, maybe this is a dream. Eddie pinched himself twice already, but perhaps a third time would wake him up?

(It does not.)

“it was even addressed to Robin. Well,” Steve has one hand on a hip now, his default position when arguing, “Robbie, but she goes by that sometimes.” 

Which Robin does, but not in the fucking mail.

Without a word, Eddie turns and goes for the envelope the zine came in. 

Steve follows, invading Eddie’s space to peer over his shoulder (and that’s Eddie’s fault too, that closeness, but he didn’t think it would be turned on him in a moment like this--) 

There's a sticker on the envelope’s label.

 It’s barely hanging on, half of it curled into the air.  Round and yellow, with little black lines, it becomes immediately obvious that one of Robin's smiley face stickers has migrated again. 

They're all over the apartment. Remnants of a phase she went through after she stole a roll of them from her and Steve’s job at a local toy store.

This one had clearly jumped ship from its original spot (likely on the ceiling somewhere), and was now firmly over the E in Eddie's name. 

‘Ddie’ still isn't exactly ‘Obbie’  but--

Steve leans around, snatching the envelope up and bringing it close to his face. 

Far too close, like he can't read it, eyes squinting as he examines the label--and suddenly Eddie knows exactly what happened. 

He laughs, an explosion of noise that's half hysterical and half disbelief. 

Steve looks at him. 

“What?” 

“Oh my God,” Eddie says, one finger jabbing in the air in the vague direction of Steve’s nose. “I told you you needed glasses!” 

“I do not!” Steve protests immediately, but his eyes are darting around the envelope. 

He’s scrambling to figure out what Eddie’s seeing, trying desperately to find a hole that can prove himself right. 

Eddie decides to help him, by plucking the smiley sticker off the envelope. 

“See?” He jeers, and shit okay, maybe his life isn’t over just yet. “It says Eddie, not Robbie!” 

“You guys have got to start using your government names for this shit.” Steve bitches, but it’s weak.

Eddie feels a grin coming on, and lets it overtake his face. 

“So...Kirk and Spock huh?” 

“They’re cute.” Steve defends instantly, before sighing his defeat and tossing the envelope on the table. 

The zine he keeps in his hands. 

Eddie crosses his arms and leans against their rickety table. “Even though they’re both guys?” 

“I thought we were past this!” Steve whines. “I went to a gay bar with Robin last weekend!” 

Which is news to Eddie. 

“You didn’t invite me?” He gasps, feigning hurt by putting a hand over his heart. 

Truthfully he still hasn’t fully recovered--is play acting himself, almost, but is rapidly coming around to the idea of Steve appreciating queer fanfiction. 

“We did!” Steve rolls his eyes so dramatically his whole head moves. “We absolutely did, You said,” 

Here Steve’s voice pitches into a mockery of Eddie’s  that he will not give him points for, even if it is a little hilarious, “Me? At some loser bar? Fuck no, I’ve got a campaign to write. Starbuck, don’t you have homework?” 

“I didn’t know that was a gay bar!” 

“You did! Robin told you!” 

“Okay well, I wasn’t listening!”  

“Clearly. I keep telling you we need a fucking--system or, I don’t know, a code word or something!”  

“Yeah well, when you wanna make us a safe word for conversations, big boy, you let me know.” 

They’re both laughing a little now, this argument veering into familiar territory, with Eddie not really listening and Steve mocking him for it later. (As well as vice versa, with startling regularity.) 

“You really like it though?”  Eddie says after the laughter winds down, gesturing to the zine still clutched in Steve’s hand. 

“Yeah.” Steve confirms, easy as he’s said anything else. Like this isn’t embarrassing, or almost worse than the time Wayne found Eddie’s porno mags and alphabetized them as a joke. 

“It's part of a mail tree. I’m supposed to send it on to the next person when I’m done with it. I make copies though,” Eddie rushes to add, because Steve is now clutching the little booklet to his chest in horror, as if Eddie was about to rip it out of his hands. “If you like I’ll show you my other ones?” 

Steve eases his grip, giving Eddie the little smile he makes that makes his stomach flip. 

“That’d be cool.” 

(Later, Steve pokes at Eddie’s thigh from where they’re both sprawled on Eddie’s bed, Steve having switched the new zine out for one of Eddie’s copies. “Are you going to laugh at me if I ask you to read some of these aloud?” 

“Only if you don’t laugh when I ask you to take me to that gay bar.” 

“Deal, but on the grounds you’re barred from making fun of my flirting attempts. Robin doing it was bad enough.” 

“Well you deserve it if you’re hitting on women at a gay bar, Stevie.” 

“I wasn't hitting on women you asshole.” Steve says and oh.

Oh.

Eddie feels the floor drop out from under him for the second time that day. 

At least this time it’s not fear that thunders through him, but possibility.) 

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU

Link to Part Two

Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.

So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.

Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"

Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.

To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.

"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."

Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.

"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."

"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"

And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"

It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"

"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"

"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."

"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."

"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"

Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.

It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"

"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."

But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.

There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"

"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"

And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.

"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.

Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"

Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"

Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.

And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.

Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"

"Shhhhhhhh!"

Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-

"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"

Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.

The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."

"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."

"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"

Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."

[little-annie]

How they got stuck sharing the only remaining bed in the Hopper-Byers family home when they came to visit, they'll never know. (It involved some meddling on both Robin's and Dustin's behalf….. and Joyce and Hopper and Jonathan and El and Will, and literally everyone else who thinks they just need to figure their shit out and get together already.)

But they did.

And Christ if they weren't pissy about it.

They were roommates for God's sake, they saw enough of each other as is. But noooo, they had to get stuck bunking with each other for the weekend too.

They'd began bickering almost immediately when they'd entered the room and saw the state of their situation.

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, no. Fuck you Harrington. I'm older-’

“By like a year -”

“I'm older and my poor boy bones are brittle. I get the bed.”

“Poor boy bones.” Steve huffs to himself, taking one quick glance at Eddie and beginning to strip, hoping that if he gets into bed first they won't have to continue this argument.

Eddie catches on almost immediately, undoing his stupid handcuff belt buckle with little struggle and kicking himself out of his jeans so fast he nearly eats the edge of the dresser to his right. “You're young.” Eddie states while trying to catch his breath, “The floor will do you just fine.”

They're both down to their underwear in a matter of seconds. Belts clanking, denim dropping and fabric flying. Eddie in his boxers, Steve in his white briefs that he's sure he hears Eddie snicker at even in his apparent displeasure.

Soon enough they're both trying to climb into bed, pushing and shoving, throwing elbows when the other one kicks out a bony knee. Both scrambling to get under the covers and claim their right to the bed.

Pulling the lone pillow swiftly beneath his head, Eddie grumbles. “What are you doing?”

“Getting into bed.”

“It's a twin Harrington.”

“Yeah and my hips hurt.” Steve answers, driving an elbow with regrettable strength into Eddie's ribs as he continues to try to gain some purchase on the narrow bed. “I'm not sleeping on the floor.” He wiggles around some more, at the moment hoping Eddie might just fall off onto the floor. “Shove over.”

Maybe they can manage to share.

“It's a twin!” Squawks Eddie while bracing himself against the nightstand, pushing Steve back with cold feet to his shins.

“And give me some of the blankets.”

“There's only one pillow!”

“So share.”

Both huffing, wriggling around, pushing and shoving, pulling at the single blanket and the only pillow, they try to get comfy on their backs. Which won't happen because they can't fucking fit that way. The goddamn bed is too narrow and Eddie's bony ass everything is digging into Steve's side as he hangs with half of his ass off of the bed.

“Lay on your side.” Eddie grumbles with a shove.

“What? Why?”

“Because we don't fit like this, Princess. Roll onto your side.”

Ignoring how that nickname makes his cheeks flare in the moonlit room, Steve starts to roll over, leaning to his left and moving to put Eddie at his back. Maybe that way he'll actually get some peace and qui-

“Not like that!” Eddie all but screeches, shoving at Steve's back so hard he nearly falls off, "You want my dick pressed to your ass all night?”

Truthfully that doesn't sound as awful as Eddie's making it out to be. The prick. Steve thinks he has a rather nice ass and Eddie would only be so lucky.

“Well you want your dick pressed against my dick all night? That's the only other option, Munson.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, sighs dramatically and mutters something to himself that Steve's not quite able to catch, before he actually speaks, “Fine. Fine! Just roll over so you're facing me, but just keep your hips back.”

‘Keep your hips back,’ as if Steve would just roll over dick first and press himself right up against Eddie.

Steve tries and fails to muffle his irritated groan as he rolls over to where he's facing Eddie on the same flat pillow.

God they're close.

Noses nearly touching.

In his moment of bitterness and just pure irritation at the situation, Steve had forgotten how pretty Eddie was.

His eyes are so dark in the moonlight.

The rest of him blanketed in a hazy midnight blue, his freckles akin to a star speckled sky.

Steve could never get tired of this view.

“Better?” Steve whispers, trying and failing to ignore the flutter of butterflies in his stomach.

Eddie's eyes search his for what feels like aeons before he answers. “Fuck you.” There's no real heat to his words, tone more so matching Steve's as he smiles with a lopsided smirk.

Steve rolls his eyes, teasing, if only to see Eddie sputter, “Mmmm, I'll take a rain check on that.” He delights in Eddie's choked off gasp before he continues, “But I will warn you, I'm a cuddler.”

“Course you are.” Eddie grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest and closing his eyes with a flutter of his long dark lashes.

After a moment of quiet Steve takes a chance and presses his foot to Eddie's, soft beneath his sole, and so fucking cold.

Eddie doesn't pull away.

“G’ night.” He whispers instead, pressing his foot just a touch closer, the breath of his words falling against Steve's lips.

“Good night.”

—

The next morning they wake in a tangled mess.

It's hot and sweaty and they're physically stuck together at all points where naked skin meets.

Which is pretty much everywhere.

Eddie's one hand is in Steve's hair as if throughout the night he felt the need to play with it, and his other is so tightly grasped to Steve's bare waist it almost hurts.

His nose is otherwise buried in Steve's neck where he can hear Eddie's faint snores and is sure there's the wetness of drool lying along his clavicle.

It's all a little disgusting.

But also kind of wonderful.

His one arm is numb where it lies beneath Eddie's head.

Steve shuffles enough to separate at least some of their sweat damp skin, noticing in the same instant how where Eddie's plastered against his hip, he's also obviously hard.

So much so that when Steve looks down there's a damp spot in his underwear.

Oh.

Maybe he'll take that rain check sooner rather than later.

Eddie groans in his sleep, hot air breathed against Steve's neck as he rolls his hips and this time lets a soft moan escape.

Yep, definitely taking that rain check now.

Maybe they'll figure their shit out sooner than everyone had anticipated.

“Get off of me, I wanna suck your-”

😉 The End

[actually-mentally-ill]

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Felt like this would for sure be one of those conversations you'd have high with your partner.

Spencer Reid x Reader

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"You did not just ask me that. There's no fucking way you just asked me that."

"So you wouldn't love me if I was a worm."

"Spencer. I'm not fucking a worm."

The signature pout graced his lips and he looked up at you with the utmost betrayal. "I'm not asking about sex. I'm asking about love. You wouldn't love me if I was a worm?"

"Spence..."

He crossed his arms and moved off of your lap. "So what you're saying is you don't love me."

"Spencer Reid You know that's not true."

"Well you wouldn't love me if I was a worm."

"You're high."

"Don't negate my feelings because you suck."

You rolled your eyes. "Well would you love me if I was a worm?"

"Of course!" He jumped up, exclaiming for potentially the whole apartment complex to hear. "I'd make sure you had the perfect habitat to thrive in, with the right temperature of about 55 degrees and-and tons of moisture. Plus I'd give you coffee grinds all the time as a little sweet treat. You're the love of my life--how could I NOT love you as a worm."

This was astounding to you. The love of your life was too sweet, too kind, too...knowledgeable about worms it seemed.

"Spence--"

"No no. too late. you wouldn't love me if I was a worm, you can't take it back."

"I actually wanted to know why you know so much about worms..."

Spencer shrugged. "They live a simple life."

It took every fiber of your being to not burst into laughter at him.

Spencer Reid was dead serious about the simple life of being a worm, and it was absolutely adorable.

"I love you."

He looked up at you. "But not if I was a worm."

"I've thought about it, and decided that if a situation arises...."

"I don't want to hear it."

You gently kissed the side of Spencer's head and pull his hand into your lap, clasping both of your hands around his. Spencer turned his whole body away from you in protest.

But he left his hand in yours.

"I love you."

"Now you're just trying to butter me up." He grumbled.

"So what if I am." You rubbed circles into the back of his hand, a gentle smile resting on your lips. Maybe you managed to not be as high as Spencer, but the idea of loving him in any capacity, worm or not, didn't seem too farfetched.

After a moment of silence between the two of you, he finally caved and turned back towards you, leaning against your shoulder, his hand still in yours.

"I'd love you if you were a worm Spence."

"You had to think about it."

"Well, it was a hard decision, but I realized I could enjoy life loving a worm."

Spencer hummed happily.

"All I'd have to do was leave you in a terrarium and then I'd be able to do whatever I want. I'd start by redecorating the bathroom for sure--"

"Wait--"

"And then I'd get the king bed all to myself."

"Rude!"

"And maybe I'd be able to buy the coffee brand I like that you don't."

Spencer rolled his eyes and smiled. "No you wouldn't."

You looked down at him, eyes narrowed. "And why not?"

"Because you would still buy the coffee I like so that as a worm I'd be able to enjoy them."

Your cheeks tinged the tiniest bit red as you beamed at the man leaning on you. "Maybe you're right."

"I'm always right." He mused, and all you could do was squeeze his hand once more before placing a kiss on his lips.

[justmeinadaze]

Yin & Yang (Steddie X You)

A/N: This post got me feeling some kind of way🫠 .

Warnings: Older Daddy Eddie (Late 30s)/ Older Dom Mr. Harrington (Late 30s) & Younger Fem Sub Y/N (mid 20s)

SMUT, LOTS of dirty talk, male masturbation, fingering, talks of sharing (duh), slight innocence kink (if you squint; she's new to the dynamic), ANGST, reader deals with a rude customer and Eddie saves the day. A fight between Eddie and Y/N are mentioned.

Word Count: 4838

Donate to my Ko-Fi <3

Everyone always said Edward Munson was a rude, pretentious asshole. News outlets, websites, social media; everyone who met him briefly or not at all expressed a particular distain for him that you always found amusing when the topic came up. 

Visually, he did seem a bit aloof whenever the businessman did any kind of interview or was asked any kind of question. It was always a bit odd seeing a music producer get so much attention especially one who focused on the heavy metal scene but everyone who hated him also tended to agree that he was a genius at the craft. 

The bands he signed and prompted always hit high numbers on their respective charts making him and them a ton of extra money in the process. 

Anything you read or heard you skimmed past mostly because that wasn’t exactly your scene nor did you know anything when it came to what goes on the background of the music industry. Working at a coffee shop wasn’t extravagant or lucrative but it got you through till you could figure what actually was your scene and go from there. 

That’s how you met him. 

On a particularly rough shift, a man was screaming at you about an order that you supposedly got wrong as you tried to control the tears from spilling down your face. 

“How stupid are you?! It’s coffee not a fucking math equation. You just put the right liquid in the right cup and fucking hand it to me! It’s not that hard! Fucking moron.”

“Excuse me.” The man turned just as the handsome gentleman who addressed him hung up his phone and shoved it into his coat pocket. “I understand you’re a bit stressed but I’m going to have to ask you to stop harassing the young lady. It’s not her fault and she’s doing her best.”

“Pfft. Fuck off, douchebag. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It actually does because you couldn’t handle this situation in a quiet calm manner. You’re ruining everyone’s morning including mine. Now…either take the coffee she’s giving you or wait for her to make a new one patiently.”

The man’s fist flew but the gentleman moved out of the way, grabbing his wrist, and twisting it as he forced the man to kneel before him. 

“Ok. If this is the way you want to do this, that’s fine. Sweetheart…” When he addressed you, you immediately stood at attention ready to die for this man if he asked after what he had just done. “Can you hand me that cup there? Thank you.”, he praises, flashing you a small smile that makes you giddy. “Now, apologize to the young lady.”

“Ow, I’m sorry!”, the man cringes when his wrist is twisted a bit more. 

“Good. Take this coffee and get the fuck out of my sight. If I see you here again I won’t be so nice.”

Disregarding the Styrofoam in the gentleman’s hand, the rude customer quickly gets to his feet before running out of the store. Sighing, your hero places the coffee in front of you.

“Thank you…for defending me… He was being such an asshole.”

“Yeah, he was. It’s not your fault he didn’t order the correct thing. I can be an asshole myself but I know when and where to use it.” When you giggled, his beautiful eyes scan you over as if trying to get a read on you with the little information in front of him. 

“Are you, um, are you Edward?”, you ask as you slide him the coffee with the name scrawled across. 

Again, he glances you over and later on you would learn he was looking for recognition. Everyone he interacted with knew his name and who he was. You were the first person in years who seemed to regard him as just another stranger which fascinated him.

“I am but you can call me Eddie. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Oh. Um, we’re friends?”

“For now, but I’d like to be more whenever you’re open to it.”

Another smile stretched across his face when he noticed your own turn bright red as you blushed. 

“You don’t even know my name.”

Coyly, he leans his elbows on to your counter as his eyes stare at your chest. At first you feel self-conscious before you realize he’s looking at your name tag and you let out a tiny laugh to break the tension.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“Do I make you nervous?” 

“A little.”

“Honest. I like that. How about this. I can pick you up after your shift today and we can start with dinner and go from there.”

“I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“That’s ok. I think you look perfect as is and I promise when I come get you I won’t be dressed as formal.”

“O-Ok, Eddie.”

“Good. Good girl. I’ll see you tonight.”

That evening, he showed up right as the shop was about to close and when you told him it would be a few more minutes, he nodded as he patiently waited by the front door. You occasionally snuck glances at him as he browsed his phone. True to his word, he wore jeans and sneakers with a nice white button up shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows. With how he looked this morning, you imagined for him this was dressed pretty down. While his hair was slicked back when you last saw him, now his waves seemed to have a mind of their own making him seem less intimidating and quite adorable. 

Eddie asked you so many different questions about yourself, silently listening as you both ate at the restaurant he took you to. You learned fairly quickly, while he seemed like a man of few words, his body language spoke loudly. His chocolate eyes never left yours as he hung on each and every word you spoke. When you said something he found even remotely funny, his lips would flicker into a slight smirk before returning to their proper alignment. When your drink ran low, his finger would raise and a waiter would promptly run your way with a refill and as the night progressed you found his leg leaning against yours with a little sigh escaping his chest when you didn’t shy away. 

“I feel kind of selfish. I’ve been talking about myself a lot but I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

“Honestly, sweetheart, it’s a nice reprieve. Everyone I run into knows me and my perceived reputation so to finally meet someone who doesn’t know me is a breath of fresh air.”

“Reputation…”, you repeated the word apprehensively. 

“Um, I’m kind of known as being a jerk.”

“You don’t seem like that to me.”

Eddie smiled so wide this time that his teeth came into view and you knew at that moment you’d do whatever it took to see him smile like that as much as possible. 

“Thank you for that. I can be when I need to be. In my line of work people tend to take advantage pretty early on and I wanted this industry to know I’m not someone to fuck with.”

“Do you make movies or?”

“Music. I’m a music producer for some heavy metal bands.”

“Oh wow! That’s so amazing. I would love to know more! Did you use to play?”

When he finally began to open up, hours passed like minutes and you were so entranced that you didn’t even realize the restaurant was getting ready to close. 

Eddie told you at one point he was in a band but hated the way they were cast aside for being “to generic” and “stuck in the past” so he took matters into his own hands. He bought a building and turned it into a label where he could help produce his friend’s music. He learned everything he could about production and managing, getting everything together, and essentially put Corroded Coffin on the map. 

He found that he actually loved working behind the scenes and stuck with it from that point forward. Now he’s a well-respected name in his field earning triple what he would have made as a guitarist. 

“What’s the name of the label you first opened?”

“Franklin Production; my mother’s maiden name. It seemed right because her money bought the building and she always loved music. She died when I was young.”

When his head hung, your heart broke. 

“Oh my God, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”

His mood changed in the blink of an eye as he breathily chuckled and glanced at his watch. 

“Shit, Y/N, it’s almost 1am. You have to be exhausted after your long shift today. Let me pay for our meal here and then I can take you home.”

“We’ve ordered so much food and drinks. Please let me help pay.” He paused at your comment then as his eyes met your now confused ones. “What?”

“I’ve only met one person who ever offered something like you just did and that man is my best friend.”

“I mean…it’s rude…isn’t it? It’s not fair for me to expect you to pay for everything.”

“Fuck me, baby.” Your eyelids visibly flutter at the term of endearment; coming out of his mouth with a sultry husk that made you swoon. “You’re really something special. I appreciate the offer but when you’re with me, honey, I can take care of you. It’s my pleasure quite honestly.”

You watched him pay the waiter and leave him way more than 15% before Eddie grabs your hand, leading you back to his car. 

That night he dropped you off at your apartment continuing to be the perfect gentleman as he walked you to your door and kept his hands behind his back as you slowly turned your key. Before you entered, however, you paused and hastily turned to plant a small kiss on his lips. Without waiting for a retort, you want inside and shut your door with a little giggle, watching through the peephole to see what he’d do. 

Eddie’s fingers softly brushed against his mouth as he grinned the way you enjoyed at the restaurant. 

***

You had been together now for a few months and you loved him with every fiber of your being. Eddie was extremely protective over you insisting you quit your job and move in with him. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you being somewhere where some fucker can belittle you and make you feel like trash. I can take care of you till you find a new job that makes you happy and people treat you with the respect you deserve.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking; I’m offering.”, he cooed as his hands cupped your cheeks. “You know how much Daddy loves looking after his pretty girl.”

The first time he called himself Daddy, you blushed and hid behind your hands making him smile as he chuckled low in his throat. 

“Have you ever called a man Daddy before?” When you giggle and curl tighter into your body, he climbed into the bed beside you and pulled you to his side. “It’s ok, sweetheart. Nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Can I show you something?”

Eddie grins when you drop your palms and show him your beautiful face. 

“Good girl.”, he praises as he takes ahold of your hand and kisses the back of it. With his eyes locked on yours, he gradually places it on the bulge in his slacks. “You feel that? Do you feel how hard I am just from being around you as is? You don’t have to do or say anything you don’t want to, princess. I’ll still be here and I’ll still want to fuck you till you can barely move.”

A smile twitched on his lips when your breathing stuttered. 

“I-I-I’ve never called anyone Daddy before or done anything that’s not…”

“Vanilla?”, he helped when your sentence stalled. “Vanilla’s ok to. Definitely a delicious flavor that can’t be disregarded. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

Eddie leans in till his mouth is just hovering over the shell of your ear. 

“The fact that you’re so nervous and innocent to all this really fucking turns me on.”

When his cock strains a bit more against the fabric and pushes back against your hand, you can’t help but release a little whine as you push your thighs together. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Got a bit of an ache between your legs?”

“Yes.”, you breath out heavily as his palm ghosts up your thigh and his lips tenderly peck along your neck. 

“I can help with that if you want.”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, please.”

Now, you were more than comfortable especially since he was always so patient with you when it came to almost everything. Unlike your past relationships, you were genuinely surprised at how little the two of you fought if at all. Eddie was a force in his business but when you two were together he was always as accommodating as possible. The one time you ever saw his anger directed towards you was when you forgot your phone when you went on a girl’s night out with your friends. 

When you came home at 2 in the morning, he was waiting in the living room and pacing with a glass of whiskey in his hand. 

“It’s 2 in the morning, Y/N! I’ve been worried sick! You forgot your phone. What if something happened to you and you couldn’t reach me!?”

“Eddie, it’s ok! I just forgot it. I promise I’ll do better next time—”

“That’s not the point! What if there hadn’t been a next time!? I’m responsible for you!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!! I’m sorry!!”

“You watch that fucking tone with me, little girl!”

“Oh yeah. Or what?!”

When the glass in his hand shattered into the wall behind you everything became abruptly silent. Tears stung your eyes as you grabbed the little trashcan nearby and scooted towards the mess, sinking to your knees as you collect the pieces. 

“Y/N, baby. No. No, no. Let me clean this, please.”, Eddie begged, his tone much softer than before as he kneeled beside you. 

When he tried to take the sharp items from your grasp, you angrily pulled away from him. 

“I didn’t mean to forget my phone. It was an honest mistake and you had no right screaming at me like you just did!”

“I know. You’re right, sweetheart. You are absolutely right. I just… fuck… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much and the idea of something happening to you or you getting hurt just terrifies me. I shouldn’t have reacted this way.”

Blinking up at him, your hand reaches for his own. 

“You love me?”

“Yeah, Y/N, of course. Since I met you behind that coffee counter.”

After tackling him excitedly, you beamed as you kissed his lips. 

“I love you to.”

People on the outside didn’t seem to understand why you were with him but they didn’t know him the way you did. Eddie was sweet, funny, and incredibly kind despite his hardened outer exterior. According to the man himself, the only other person who understood him the same way you did was a man you had yet to meet. 

#############

Steven Harrington was a name you knew solely due to his reputation in media. 

He was always portrayed as just another trust fund baby who was utilizing daddy’s money to do whatever he wanted. He got in trouble constantly but brushed it off with a sexy smile and a calm demeanor that made even the biggest skeptic want to trust him.

The first time Eddie mentioned him by name was after you noticed him watching one of Steve’s interviews. 

“Fucking idiot.”, he chuckled light-heartedly, turning the screen of his phone so you could watch to when you climbed into bed beside him. “This is the guy I was telling you about. Steve Harrington has been my best friend for years.”

“This is your best friend?”

When he nods, you focus on the interview in front of you.

“No, no. Trust me, that company would be crazy to sell right now in this economy. Once things bounce back it will be worth way more than it is now. Then again…if they sell I could buy it and turn it into a hotel or some s***. Go ahead than! Sell that f***er!”, he laughs making you giggle as well when his nose scrunches adorably. 

“Steve is actually a very clever business guy. People constantly underestimate him because he acts like a playboy.”

“So…he’s the yin to your yang?”

Eddie smirks down at you before kissing your forehead. 

“You could say that.”

The more your boyfriend told you about him the more you wanted to meet him. Eddie seemed to genuinely care about this person and as his girlfriend you wanted him to get to know him as well. The first time you spoke to him was after you moved in with Ed and he called to congratulate you both. 

“Hey! Are you Y/N?”

“I am.”, you grin. 

“Oh good. I don’t know what I would have done if you said no. ‘EDDIE! Some random pretty girl is in your place!’”, Steve laughed. 

“Pft. How do you know I’m pretty?”

“Because a sexy voice like yours must be inside a beautiful woman. I’m kind of jealous.”

He said it so smoothly that if you weren’t already sitting you’re sure his words would have knocked you off your feet. Your eyes glanced towards Eddie who was watching you from his spot on the couch. 

“Uh oh. Did I lose you, honey? Sorry. Sometimes I come on a bit too strong.”

“No, no. It’s ok. You just… you remind me of him.”, you exhale as you get up and walk towards your boyfriend. 

“Of who? Of Eddie? I take that as a compliment. He’s a good man.”

“Yeah he is but that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Oh? Well then use your words, pretty girl. Who do I remind you of? I’m DYING to know.”

Eddie softly smirks as he watches your breathing stagger the same way it does when you’re intimidated by something. His ring covered fingers gently trace down your arm making you shiver. 

“Tell me.”

The two words that followed came out as a strong command that told you to obey. The contradiction of how he spoke now to how he had before made you dizzy and you desperately wanted more. 

“Daddy.”

After tossing the phone next to Eddie, you covered your face with your palms and ran up the stairs. A few moments later, the man you loved climbed into bed beside you and collected you into his arms. 

“Talk to me, baby. Remember, no matter what there’s nothing to be embaressed about, ok?” He smiled when he felt you nod against his chest. “I know Steve can be a bit much at first but he’s a good person who’s been through a lot of bullshit.”

As you sniffle, you tilt back so you could see his face. 

“I feel bad.”

“About what, sweetheart?”

“I liked the way he spoke to me. It turned me on the same way you do.”

“Ok…why does that make you feel bad?”

You shrug. “I love you.”

That makes him genuinely smile. 

“I love you to, Y/N, so much. That’s why I trust you, babe. I, um, I have a confession to make.” When you sit up to give him your full attention, he does the same. “I’ve known Steve for a long time and I trust that man with my life. I’ve told him things I’ve never told anyone and he’s done the same. You said, sweetheart, he’s the yin to my yang and you’re right. Fuck… how do I say this…”

“You want to share me?”

The innocent way you asked your question drove him insane but he pushed down the need to fuck you for the time being. 

“Kind of, yes. I…I wanted to see how you two got along and if it worked out, maybe, we could fly to go meet him and… you’d still be mine but he’d—”

“Use me.”

“Fuck, baby, you have to stop saying things like that the way you are.”, Eddie panted excitedly as he adjusted the growing bulge in his pants. 

“May I ask why? Why you would want to share me like that?”

“Of course, Y/N, you can always ask me anything. You hold the power here especially when it comes to this. I just… he’s my best friend and I want him to be happy to. In these past few months, you’ve changed my world and I just want to give him some of that. I, um, I also think…”

“Tell me, Daddy. Please.”, you beg in your tiny voice that has his eyes closing as he tries to control himself. 

“Fuck… I think it would be incredibly hot to watch you fuck him.”

You had told him you were open but apprehensive because it was all new territory for you. Both men came up with an idea to help you get acclimated to the idea. 

“Hey all. Wow, Jesus Christ Munson, you undersold your girlfriend’s beauty. Hot damn.”

You giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend who was laughing himself from his side of the computer screen. It looked like Steve had the device he was using for this facetime visit resting on his lower stomach as he leaned against the headboard of his bed looking incredibly sexy with his ruffled hair and tank top just barely covering the chest hair that littered his skin. 

Eddie had you sitting in between his own legs as he rested his head against your shoulder and his arms hugged you to him. 

“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable. If I do at any point please just let me know and I’ll respect your boundaries.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable but, uh, you kind of intimidate me a bit…more than Eddie did.”

“Is it because I start at 10 and go from there? Yeah, casualties of growing up in chaotic household and then starting a business where your biggest competitor is your father.”

“What DO you do? Ed said you’re an investor?”

“Kind of.  I invested in a friend’s tech company many years ago and that paid off in a big way. They make medical supplies that are high quality for a cheaper price. I’m trying to expand so we can invest in more—Pfft! Listen to me talking about all that bullshit. Let’s talk about something else.”

“No, hey! That’s amazing that you do that. My father needed supplies like that but it was so hard for him to afford stuff. You’ve probably helped so many people. What supplies has your company helped make?”

Steve blinked, sitting up straighter.

“Huh.”

“I told you.”, Eddie sings as he places a delicate kiss along your skin. 

“D-Did I do something wrong? Am I not allowed to ask him questions?”, you asked genuinely worried you crossed a line. 

“Most people, let alone women, don’t care enough to ask us things like you just did.”

“Maybe you two are spending time around the wrong people.”

“Maybe… Damn, Eddie. She’s perfect. Where did you find her because obviously I’ve been looking in the wrong places.”

“Hm. I found her in a coffee shop being yelled at by some asshole. Fucker.”, he growled before you tilted back and kissed his cheek. “It’s not just her personality either. Her body fucking drives me crazy. Even just watching her walk from the bed to the bathroom makes me so fucking hard.”

“Yeah? Your Daddy says you have sexy body. Can you show it to me?”

“Only if you’re comfortable, princess.”, Eddie whispers in your ear.

“Can you help me, Daddy?”

Nodding, he removes each item of your clothing till you were naked for the man on the screen in front of you. 

“Fuck me. I’m not just saying this, Y/N, but you’re so gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”, you groan as you lick your lips. “May I see you?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”, he smirks. 

Your whole body tingled as you watched him undress until you sucked in a sharp intake of air when his cock sprang free from his cotton confinement. 

“He’s so big.”, you murmur against Eddie’s cheek as his eyes remain downcast to focus on you. “How will it fit?”

“We’ll make fit, pretty girl. Steve and I can take care of you.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Little one is worried about your splitting her in half. “

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m a gentleman to. I’m not going to just shove my dick inside of you. Even if it takes hours, we can eat and finger your little pussy till she’s ready.”

“Fuck, Daddy, please.”

Aggressively, Eddie opens your legs wide putting you on display and making Steve groan. 

“Wet already and no one’s even touched you yet.”, he responded mockingly before leaning over his cock to spit on his tip and stroke himself. “How tight is she, Munson?”

You moaned loudly as Eddie inserted two of his thick fingers into your cunt and your head leaned back against him.

“So fucking tight, Harrington, and greedy. Her pussy just sucks me in and chokes my dick when she cums. Add in her sexy little noises and the way her face scrunches…” 

“Open your eyes, Y/N.” Steve smiles when you do what he asks. “Good girl. She listens to. Fuck, baby, don’t take those eyes off me. God, I’m—mmm—I’m dying to feel those pretty lips around my cock.”

“You’re really good at sucking cock, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy. I’m…M’close.”

“I know, pretty girl. I can feel it. Why don’t you tell Stevie how bad you want his cum.”

You mewl as Eddie moves at a faster pace with the sound of your slick echoing around the room. 

“Please, Mr. Harrington, Sir. I-I-I want your cum so much. I want to feel you—ahhhh—feel your cock in my mouth till you spill down my throat.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he grunted and you both watched as his release hit his thigh. 

“You did so good, sweetheart. Cum for Daddy now, baby.”, Eddie praised as your back pushed against his chest and you panted as you came. “That’s my girl. Good girl. Ride it out on my fingers till you come back to me. That’s it.”

“Fucking hell. That was amazing, honey.” Steve watch with fascination as you turned your body and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s chest as you curled into his warm chest. “Everything ok?”

“She’s fine. It’s something baby girl does when she cums hard like that. She’ll squeeze me like a fucking Teddy bear and fall asleep. Sometimes it’s for a few minutes or a few hours. At first I thought it was the headspace but I don’t know. Either way I love it.”

“Yeah, man. If she had a good time and is open to it I have that party coming up in a month. You two can fly down and we can hang out. Of course, nothing has to happen. I can always just show you guys around and get to know her more.”

“I’ll let you know when she wakes up and we talk about it.”

“No problem. No problem. Hey, maybe at most, you and I can fuck around.”, Steve replies as he coyly raises his eyebrows making his friend laugh.

“Ok, calm down over there.”

“Oh, come on. Not like it would be the first time—”

“Good night, asshole.”, Eddie teases as he cuts him off and closes the laptop.

#################

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”, Eddie asks as he watches you fidget with your hands as you stare at your reflection in the metal of the elevator. 

“Yeah. I’m just a little nervous. This is your best friend and I know how much he means to you. I don’t want to…I don’t know…fuck anything up.”

“Fuck, I still think it’s hot when you get all jittery like this.”, he chuckles as he takes your palm in his. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I love you so I know for a fact he will. Just keep being your unique self, baby, and no matter what I’ll be here if you need anything.”

When he flashes you that big toothy grin, you can’t help but smile back as you lean up on your toes to kiss his lips. The doors abruptly swing open and your boyfriend’s demeanor instantly hardens at the sound of loud party guests in the room you both step into. 

Your eyes swing around the area with no sign of the host himself. 

Tugging on Eddie’s bicep, you lead him to the drink station where you desperately chug down some liquid courage as you pray that tonight goes as smoothly as possible.

[munsonluhvr]

ohhhh and i honestly need more professor!eddie x student!reader

imagine he’s her professor. he’s like 39 and she’s 19. and just a hot secret affair ahhh.. where she’s the one to intend this relationship first like seducing him and all and getting fucked on the desk all the time!! he sometimes has to hold her mouth shut because she’s so loud!!

SCHOOL GIRL CRUSH

a/n: thank u so much for another amazing request. I hope u like it! I loved writing this sm, im tempted to write a part two in the future.

synopsis: professor!eddie munson x student!reader. unable to resist your professor munson, you begin seducing him, making every visit to his office hours productive. lucky for you, all your efforts pay off in the end. word count - 4.7k warnings: 18+, explicit content // age gap relationship, throat fucking, p in v, cum eating, fingering, finger sucking.

Your ears are numb to the sound of your classmates engaging with Professor Munson, answering his questions eagerly to please the young and handsome teacher. You’re trapped in your own mind as you imagine Professor Munson bending you over his desk, his ungraded essays cluttered underneath your upper body. You imagine your thighs shivering and growing goosebumps as his fingertips graze your legs, hooking his pointer fingers onto your panties and pulling your undergarment down as slow as possible… 

“Are you listening, y/n?” Professor Munson asks as he leans against his long wooden desk, his legs crossed in front of him. You sit in the front row, of course, to be able to gain his attention. Your legs are outstretched in front of you and Professor Munson taps your foot with his. “Care to share what you’re day dreaming about with the rest of the class?” 

You blush, shaking your head quickly. “I wasn’t daydreaming, I was listening.” You lean forward on your desk, resting your elbow on the tabletop, your hand cupping your chin. Bending at the waist, you push your chest forward, allowing Professor Munson to get a front-row view of your breasts that are supported by your bra. 

Professor Munson, or Eddie which is what he allows you to call him in his office hours, lets his eyes dip to your exposed chest but he catches himself quickly, coughing into a close fist. “I see; let’s switch to talking about the book we read last week that we didn’t get to talk about.” He says to the class.

 You sit in the small classroom, your other classmates scattered about the room; there’s only about fifth teen of you, the classroom big enough to fit at least thirty students. Above the chalkboard is a clock that ticks rhythmically, and you watch for the next ten minutes as the class talks amongst themselves. Today was the day you’d go for the kill, feeling as if you and Professor Munson were playing a cat and mouse game since the beginning of the semester. 

Professor Munson was young, probably in his mid to late thirties, and incredibly attractive. Though he was physical attractive, an angelic face with soft features that combine to create a beautiful face, Professor Munson also had a ‘swagger’ about himself, a confidence that you could sense from a mile away. He never dressed, nor acted, like any of your other professors, he wore black ripped jeans, various metal band t-shirts and utilized an informal teaching style.  Nonetheless you enjoyed Professor Munson’s class, though you had to admit, you had an agenda. You wanted to fuck him. 

It all started in the beginning of the semester when you first walked into the classroom. You were automatically enamored by Eddie, easily charmed by his charisma and good looks. It was then and there where you began developing a plan, each week bringing you a step closer to today. 

Over the first two months of the semester, you had frequented his office hours, finding that even though the other girls in the class giggled about how cute he was, nobody went to his office hours leaving you hours to occupy his time. Professor Munson welcomed it happily: at first he quizzed you about the class readings, forcing you to engage with the conversations that happened during class. Though as the weeks went on, your meetings became more personal, and he started to ask you about your background, where you’re from, what your family is like. You were able to get some answers out of Eddie as well; it was fair game after all.

For a while you weren’t able to figure out if Eddie was understanding your motives, or if he found you as attractive as you found him. If he did, he kept it well hidden as a university Professor should. However, the last few meetings you had gave you no doubt in your mind that now was the time to try, to attempt to discover uncharted territory of what is Eddie’s body.  

Two weeks ago, you had visited office hours in hopes of getting your midterm essay edited with suggestions from Eddie; why not try to improve your grade while trying to get fucked? You were planning on making it a quick visit, meant to leave Eddie with dirty thoughts about you. You had worn your shortest skirt, barely covering the paisley patterned panties you wore, a long-sleeved t-shirt with the three buttons at the top completely unbuttoned. With ease, and all the casualty in the world, you brought your paper, printed and paperclipped together, to Eddie’s office, coming around the side of his desk to drop it in front of him. 

“Thank you so much for looking at my paper before the deadline, I just want to make sure I get it right,” you had said, your eyes soft and doe eyed. 

Eddie nodded slightly, his eyes drifting from your face down to your completely bare thighs. “O-Of course, Miss y/n. I’m happy to though I’m sure there’s not much to be corrected.”  You spied his hands resting on his desk, and you took the opportunity to make skin on skin contact. 

You placed your hand on top of his, feeling the coolness of his silver rings that were scattered across his long fingers. You laugh softly, the reverberation causing your breasts to jiggle on your chest. “You’re so kind to me, Professor Munson.” Your fingers curled around his soft hand, and you let it rest there, taunting Eddie to almost say ‘See? You could have all this. Come find out.’ There’s no doubt in your mind, standing in his office, all alone, barely clothed, that he wanted to jump you, lifting that tiny skirt you wore to bunch up at your midsection.

Eddie’s eyes flickered to where your hands rested together and he coughed, rolling his chair under his desk to hide his lower half. You bit your lip, hoping that a boner was what he was attempting to conceal as he pushed his bottom half under his desk. You lift your hand off of his, stepping away from the side of your desk. “I’ll come to your office hours next week to see what you thought of my research?” 

Eddie nods, his eyes no longer looking to make contact with yours. “See you then.” 

The following week you had done what you said you would, making an appearance in his office hours for the thousandth time. You had begun to grow a confidence that was reassuring, probably contributing to your delusions: a professor could never let himself fuck a student, right? Not in your world. You played innocent, pretending as if you didn’t know what you were doing as leaned across Eddie’s cluttered desk to grasp your paperclipped essay with his suggestions scribbled across it, your breasts on full display. You pretended to not know Eddie was watching as you ‘accidently’ dropped your paper on the way out of his office, making of a show of bending down to show your ass that was fitted in a lace thong – and also pretended not to understand why Eddie gasped, then coughed, as you took a moment to pick up your papers that were scattered across the entrance of his office. When you were away from his office, sauntering down the hallway, you just had to pat yourself on the back for the show you just put on. ‘Damn, I’m good at this.’ You thought to yourself, a smug smile playing across your mouth. Eddie was beginning to be just where you wanted him. 

“Well, I think we’ll leave it there for this week. Make sure to follow the syllabus and read what’s required for next week,” Professor Munson said, continuing to lean against his desk. “I’ll wait around if anyone has any questions.” 

You were slow to gather your things, tucking them all away into your backpack. You peeked around you to watch the last of your classmates filter out into the busy hallway. At last, it was just you and Eddie. 

“Professor Munson, I have a question.” You say, standing up from your seat. Oddly, you were nervous, your fingers trembling, your voice wavering. Perhaps you are afraid of rejection. 

Eddie hums, his eyes flickering to where you stand. “What can I do for you, y/n?” 

‘So much’ you think. “Well, I just feel like I’m not following the discussion in class. As if reading all the material isn’t enough to understand what we’re talking about. Perhaps I need a more hands-on approach?” You say, stepping forward to where Eddie rests against his desk. 

“I’m not sure I’m following,” Eddie says, his arms uncrossing from in front of his chest to holding him up against the desk. “A hands-on approach?” 

You bite your lip, nodding as you step closer to him again, continuing to close the gap that exists between you and your professor. “Something more.. intimate, perhaps?” You let your backpack drop to the ground, freeing your hands. You wear a zip up hoodie that’s cropped at the waist, though underneath it your skin becomes slick with sweat and nervousness. You make a show of unzipping it slowly, the sound echoing through the classroom. Outside, students shout and chatter as they walk to their next class and for a moment you’re afraid of someone walking in. 

Eddie’s eyes watch closely as your fingers work to unzip your hoodie, then shrug it off, dropping it on top of where your backpack lays across the linoleum floor. “A-Are you referring to when I called you out for daydreaming because, of course, our minds can’t stay occupied on a single topic for a long time; studies have proven that.” Eddie says, beginning to ramble. His adams apple bobs at the front of his throat, his voice quivering. 

You smile, cocking your head to the side. Crossing your arms in front of you, you take the hem of your shirt into your fingers, lifting up and off with ease. “I’m not talking about that. I think I just need some lessons; you know?” Confidence courses through your veins, pushing the disbelief that you were stripping your clothes off for your college professor into the back of your mind. 

Eddie says nothing, his eyes watching every movement you make. His mouth gapes open slightly, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He knows he shouldn’t be sitting against his desk watching, he should be stopping you, but he can’t move, his mind in a trance watching you, his student, bare yourself in front of him. 

You watch closely, analyzing Eddie’s facial expressions. You interpret his face as shocked, bewildered. You decide to take it another step further, reaching behind you with both hands to unclip your bra, freeing your breasts that you’ve been taunting him with. Left in only your skirt and tennis shoes, you step once more to Eddie, finally close enough to reach out and touch him. 

Your fingers play against his face, your fingertips beginning to trace his features. To your surprise, his hands reach out to grip your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your skirt. Eddie maneuvers you between his legs, bringing you almost nose to nose with him. The sensation of Eddie holding on to you makes your core begin to tighten, knowing he’s finally beginning to lean into game you’ve been playing. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Eddie says, his brown eyes watching as the pad of your thumb brushes against his bottom lip. You lean forward, letting your lips hover over his. “Oh, but you know you want to, Professor Munson. I know I want to,” You say, your nose nudging into his as you let your lips get closer and closer to his. 

Eddie swallows, the sound of his name rolling off your tongue creating a tender, painful boner to form against the tightness of his jeans. He wants to so bad, ever since you walked into office hours for the first time. So, innocent you were, though Eddie was no fool – he knew it was all an act. The way you were just barely an adult, only nineteen, his young pupil, yet you had the confidence and sexual charm of a grown woman. He had fallen right into your trap, a willing victim. 

Without hesitation, you let your lips gently intertwine with Eddie’s, each movement soft and delicate. Eddie hesitates at first, your lips moving against his as his mouth remains stiff though he isn’t able to refrain for long, the feeling of your soft lips against his, the sweetness of your mouth flowing into his forced him to give in. Eddie’s hands begin to move lower down your body, his hands finding their way underneath your skirt. Before he pulls your panties down, letting the drop to your ankles, he lets his fingertips drag against your cunt, feeling the way your pulsing clit is pressed against the fabric of your undergarments. To you, the feeling makes your eyes roll back, the pressure of Eddie’s fingers pressing against your most sensitive parts making your knees weak. You whine against his mouth, letting your arms wrap around his shoulders to press your bare front into his. 

It takes everything in Eddie to refrain from pulling your panties down abruptly, flipping you face down onto his desk when you whine against his mouth. Slow and steady; Eddie wants to relish every minute he’s under your spell.  Instead, Eddie pushes the fabric of your panties to the side, letting your moistness to be revealed. You drip around his fingers, your body preparing itself for his arrival. Eddie’s breath hitches when he feels how slick your cunt is, how turned on you are from merely his presence, just from a minute or so of kissing. Eddie’s stomach twists with guilt, knowing his interaction with you goes against every university code of conduct, though he couldn’t care less. With a swift movement, he lets his pointer and middle finger plunge into you, your wet core swallowing his digits whole. 

This time, the feeling of Eddie pushing his fingers inside of you causes you to moan loudly, throwing your head back, eyebrows knitted together with building frustration. Eddie takes the opportunity, now that your lips are detached, to leave a trail of gentle kisses down your chest, centering right between your breasts. With his free hand, Eddie cups your breast, letting his mouth envelop your hardened nipple.  You hand grips Eddie’s upper arm tightly as the tip of his tongue flicks across your nipple, sending a spark across your chest, your eyes pinching shut with pleasure. In a rhythmic motion, Eddie’s fingers move in and out of your cunt, your wetness from arousal beginning to drip down your inner thighs, and down the back of Eddie’s hand, down his forearm. 

Your thighs began to tremble against Eddie’s movements, his long fingers fluttering inside you, immediately attracted to the weakest spot inside of you. You feel pressure beginning to build inside your lower abdomen, the aching feeling of needing Eddie’s cock inside of you. Your eyes flutter shut; your body overwhelmed with the feeling of pleasure caused by Eddie’s thick fingers. 

You’re caught off guard when you’re moved quickly, now the one sitting against the hardwood desk, Eddie standing above you. You frown at the feeling of emptiness in your cunt, Eddie’s fingers going missing. Through your eyelashes at Eddie, your lips in a small pout. Eddie lingers above you, his tall stature seeming even taller as you sit at the edge of his desk, the hard edge digging into the softness of your ass. 

Eddie’s eyes gaze at you admiringly, his hand reaching out to touch your face in the manor you had touched his, his fingertips attending to all your soft yet beautiful features. The world around you slows to a vibrant hum, the hallways no empty, all the other students off to their next classes. You stare back at Eddie, feeling tension hang in the air similar to how humidity hangs in the air on a hot summer day. Thick and heavy. Slowly, his fingers come to a stop, his eyes never leaving your face. The pad of his thumb brushes the bottom of your lip then pushes between your lips. You part your lips, eyes wide as Eddie places his thumb on your tongue, your lips puckering around his finger. Your eyes flutter closed again, his finger moving in and out of your mouth as you suck gently on his digit, tasting the salty sweetness of his skin. 

“Such a good girl,” Eddie whispers, his voice shuddering as he feels your mouth enclose around his finger. “Such a bright student.” 

You can’t help but smile, the sound of Eddie complimenting you causing heat to creep up your neck to the apples of your cheeks. You sigh against his finger, letting your tongue cradle his thumb. Your clit begins to pulse, the anticipation beginning to kill you softly. Your eyes flutter open, letting your hands reach out to grasp his lower half, your fingers working to unbuckle his black, leather belt. Next, you pull down his fly, revealing a few inches of dark grey boxers, the outline of his cock growing more evident by the second. You let your fingers creep across the band of his jeans, using your upper arm strength to begin to tug downwards. 

Eddie pulls his thumb out of your mouth, stepping back to allow you the space to pull his pants and boxers down. You push yourself off the edge of the desk, kneeling down on the floor, in front of Eddie, to pull his pants down to his calves. Satisfyingly, Eddie’s thick cock bounces free from the confines of his jeans, his pink tip at your eye-level. With no hesitation, nor second thoughts, you take his cock into your hand, your mouth opening to welcome him down your throat. Eddie’s member bulges as you guide him gently down the canal of your throat, your lips puckering in a way that that’s you engulf him. You feel him shudder underneath your touch, his eyes pinching shut, his hand finding its way into the thickness of your hair. His fingers intertwine in your hair, allowing Eddie a good grip to guide you how he pleases. 

Eddie is only the second person you’ve ever fucked, though your positive the first time barely counts. And he’s certainly the biggest cock you’ve ever dealt with, surely ever seen. Your eyes begin to water as your throat expands to fit him inside, your throat walls beginning to ache at the work it has to do to fit him. Nonetheless, you move back and forth, tears beginning to threaten to spill over onto your cheeks, Eddie moving seamlessly in your mouth. Eddie begins to thrust gently into your mouth, his body moving in autopilot as he responds to the pleasure you provide by giving him head. You whimper and moan as he utilizes your throat in just the way he likes, Eddie deciding what temp you move at, as you hold onto his thighs for balance. 

Eddie feels himself getting nearly close, though he has no intention of finishing now. He wants his time with you to last even longer. Eddie backs his hips away from your mouth, letting his cock slip out of your mouth, a single spit string attached at the tip of his cock to your mouth. He leans forward, gripping his hand tightly around your upper arm and lifting you off the ground. With authority, he spins to around, pushing you towards the wooden desk again. Placing a hand on the middle of your back, he pushes you forward, legs pressed against the front of the desk, upper torso bent across the classroom desk. Your eyes and fists squeeze together tightly, the anticipation of feeling Eddie pushed inside of you leaving you on the very edge. You’ve waited for this moment for months. All your wildest fantasies coming true. 

Eddie gently kicks your ankles, spreading your legs apart further, gathering both of your wrists into his hands, behind your back. He leans forward, hovering near your ear. “You’re so beautiful, y/n.” Eddie says, his voice low. “I knew you were special when you walked into my classroom at the beginning of the semester – so perky, so eager to please.” 

You nod against the desk, feeling the muscles in your shoulder begin to burn from Eddie holding your wrists behind your back. “I wanted to be a good student, Professor Munson. The best one you ever had.” 

You hear the sound of Eddie moving behind you, feel the softness of his skin as he presses himself against you, his throbbing cock getting closer to your cunt. With his hand, Eddie guides his tip against your entrance. “How do you want it?” 

Truthfully, you wanted it every and any way. “Hard, rough. I want you so bad, I’ve been thinking about this for so long, Professor Munson. Please, I just want to be fucked.” 

Eddie can’t help it anymore, the sound of you practically begging for him, the way your voice contorts into a whine. It’s the hottest sound he believes he’ll ever hear. He lines himself up with you, his tip grazing your cunt. You sigh loudly, the feeling of him teasing your throbbing cunt makes your legs shiver and become weak. 

Eddie takes a deep breath, feeling like he could come all over your bare ass, the sight of you bending forward across his desk just enough to do the trick. But he refrains. With one hand, he spreads your ass cheeks apart, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. Eddie’s heart beats against his chest, his fingers trembling with anticipation as he eases himself into you. Your slick cunt envelopes Eddie’s cock, tightening around him as he begins to thrust into you. His eyes roll back into his head, the feeling of you causing him to lose his breath. 

Your eyes squeeze shut, a whine escaping your lips. Your arms extend from behind your back out to the side, gripping onto the desk. “Oh fuck, Eddie.” You mumble, sighing as you speak. Your body goes from tense to slack, the feeling of Eddie rutting into you bringing you pure pleasure. “Keep going, don’t stop.” 

Eddie nods, though he knows you can’t see him. His body moves into you rhythmically, his cock driving entirely into you. Eddie watches for a moment, the way his cock moves into you slowly, your cunt swallowing him whole, and how when he pulls back, his cock is drenched in your arousal. He can’t help but moan in disbelief. 

As Eddie takes you from behind, his motions are slow and even, though your body begins to crave more as the seconds pass. You feel Eddie’s long fingers drip your hip bones; his fingernails blunt against your skin. Needing the feeling of Eddie moving through you at a faster pace, you begin to roll your hips against him, essentially using his cock to fuck yourself. Eddie’s eyes widen, his top teeth sinking into his bottom lip, as he watches you move against him. “Such a good girl, y/n.” Eddie says, leaning over to brush your hair that has gathered in front of your face. He watches as your face softens; your lips parting as little breaths escape your mouth. “Yes, Professor Munson,” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with a soft pink. 

Your back arches, your bottom lifting higher into the air. You squirm underneath Eddie’s grip, his stance holding you in place as he takes over thrusting into you. Eddie feels his knees becoming weak, the sensation of his core tightening in his lower abdomen causing him to flinch. Eddie would love nothing to more than to come into you, thick ropes of his cum filling your cunt, giving him the opportunity to watch it drip out of you. He chooses to refrain, knowing that getting a student pregnant would be worse than fucking a student. As Eddie fantasizes about all the places he wants to come on you, he senses your legs tremble underneath him, your arms extending reaching out across the table, gripping the edge. “Yes,” your voice coos. “Right there.” You clench around Eddie’s cock, your core burning as if you’ve touched the sun, legs trembling as you reach a peak, an intense wave bringing your orgasm through your body, straight down to your toes. 

Eddie watches mystified, the way your body shudders underneath his touch, your eyes fluttering closed, soft sighs and whines echoing across the empty classroom. Just you and him. Eddie is sure your orgasming, all because of his touch, is the most beautiful sight, pretty enough to be a historical painting, hung in the Louvre. 

After a moment, your body relaxes again, becoming limp as sweat collects across your body and in your hairline. Eddie pulls himself out of you, reaching to grab your forearm. With his strength, he pulls you across the desk, bringing you to your knees in front of him. For the first time in several moments, and he gets a look at your weathered face. Your lips are red and puckered, dried spit across your cheek. Your eyes are glassy, red rimming your eyes, black mascara smudged under your eyes. Your cheeks are flushed, pieces of your hair clinging to your face. You look tired, exhausted, yet you’re still so eager to please, your hands beginning to move towards Eddie’s cock that rests at your eye level. You lick your lips, missing the flavor of him inside your mouth. 

Eddie lets his fingers intertwine in your hair again, bringing you underneath his cock. You crouch down, looking up at Eddie through your eyelashes. You watch, arousal still collecting in your cunt, as Eddie strokes himself above you, his eyes beginning to flutter shut. “Come for me, Professor Munson. Let me find out how you taste.” 

Eddie’s eyes open, his eyes finding yours. Just then, ropes of cum dribble out of the tip of his cock, splashing onto your cheeks, across your nose. You lean up, resting your tongue just underneath his tip. In a slow flow, Eddie’s come dribbles onto your tongue, the sweet, yet salty, flavor causing your tastebuds to flair. You sigh, satisfaction playing across your face as you swallow Eddie’s load, more of his semen splattering your face as you do so. 

Once Eddie is finished, he’s out of breath, sweat causing dark spots across his ‘Metallica’ t-shirt. Eddie pulls his boxers and jeans up, glancing at you as he rights himself, zipping his fly and re-buckling his belt. You're slower to put your clothes on, liking the way it feels to have Eddie’s gaze on your naked body, his eyes taking in every curve of yours.  

Once you put your clothes back on, bending over to pick up your zip up hoodie and beginning to put your arms in the sleeve, Eddie coughs, standing awkwardly off to the side. “This can never happen again, y/n. This was a lapse in my judgment.” 

You pout, tossing him a glance. You bend over once more, picking your backpack up by one of the straps. “Professor Munson, please” you say, shaking your head. You run a hand through your hair, attempting to make it look as if you just didn’t get railed, by your professor, in a classroom. “We both know this is going to happen again, and again. Should I come to office hours next week?” 

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. Eddie knows it’s wrong to have relations with a student, likely to get him fired if anyone were to ever find out. But you were so enticing, irresistible. For a moment, Eddie wonders how many people you’ve been with. Where did you learn to be so appealing, to move your hips in such a way, pouting your lips and batting your lashes to draw in any man you please? Regardless, Eddie wants to know more about you, learn what else you want to do with him. “Yes, come to my office hours next week.” 

[astermath]

second chance ₓₒ⋆:

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.

word count: 4.8K (oops)

warnings: cursing, no use of y/n, bullying, regular size font below!

notes: first time writing for steve YES I HAVE FALLEN IN LOVE WITH HIM! YES IT IS THE FAULT OF ALL THE GOOD FIC WRITERS ON HERE! and thus,, I had to participate,, I hope I got his character down, I might write more for him so let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for further steve harrington related content!

tagging some writers who have absolutely inspired me to write this with their own incredible fics, be sure to check them out <3 @hungharrington @sunshinesteviee @ghostlyfleur @lilacletter​ @stevenose​ 

As a teenager, you’d grown to hate Hawkins. It was a mundane, small town with boring people, not much to do, not to mention the weird supernatural rumors you’d hear about every other week. 

But nothing was worse than your high school, Hawkins High. There was a strong social hierarchy, with you firmly placed at the bottom. You were a class A nerd, getting good grades, and always reading to distract yourself from your lack of a social life. So naturally, you got picked on a lot. At first it was just some girls in your class, laughing at your big glasses and the way you dressed. But as you got older, you’d caught the eye of so called “king Steve” and his goons.

You’d heard plenty about him by junior year; how rich his parents were, how he was the best at sports, how every girl practically dropped to their knees when he entered a room. He’d started noticing you when his friend Carol pointed you out, sitting alone on a bench outside school, waiting for your dad to pick you up. His finger had pushed your book down so he could look at your face, and you were soon met with his all too cocky grin. 

“Watcha readin’, four eyes?” The ego was nearly dripping off his words, making your stomach turn.

“None of your business.” you pulled your book away, keeping a finger between the pages you were on. “Doubt it’s near your reading level anyways, Harrington.” You may have been nerdy, but you were no pushover. If they wanted to be condescending, then you’d play their game right back at them.

“That’s no way to treat your king, is it?” Tommy chimed in, like a parrot on his shoulder. You were sure that guy would be nowhere without his friend’s reputation, considering he had the personality of a wet sock.

“My king?” You repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t you just leave me alone?” You tried putting your book away, but Carol had snatched it from your hands just before you could reach your bag.

“Oooh, is this your diary or somethin’?” she flipped it open, shit eating grin plastered over her face as she ran her nail over your name written on the opening page. 

“Do you mind? Give it back!” you’d reached out to grab it from her, but she’d already tossed it back to Steve, who was now holding it high above his head. 

“Come and get it sweetheart,” He smirked. “Might have to get real close for it though.” Tommy laughed like a hyena at his taunting, and you swore you would have punted him if they didn’t outnumber you. 

You scowled, ready to just grab your bag and make a swing for it. “Over my dead body, Steve.” You spat his name, and he grinned at your response. 

“Ahh, shouldn’t have said that.” He dropped the book down into the muddy puddle in front of you, stepping on it to make matters worse. 

You watched, mouth slightly agape as tears welled up in your eyes. Carol cackled while you stood frozen, clutching your bag as you watched the pages soak up the filthy water under his foot. You had every reason not to like Steve, he was like every movie’s description of a high school bully. But he’d destroyed something personal of yours. So now you had every reason to hate Steve.

And the bullying never stopped there. He’d laugh when Carol put her gum in your hair, when Tommy would bump into you extra hard in the hallway, when you’d turn around every time you saw him.

So when graduation came, you couldn’t be happier to get out of there and go to college.

Except your dad got fired from his job. And so, after just a year of college, you’d abandoned your dream of majoring in English literature and returned to the sad, miserable old town you grew up in. 

So you’d taken on a job in your local bookstore, hoping to make enough money to rent an apartment anywhere else soon. You spent the rest of your time reading and writing, usually outside to get some inspiration. You weren’t surprised to see a lot of familiar faces, though you’d never actually spoken to most of them. College was expensive, and a lot of people from Hawkins were just going straight into working than bothering to study. Or maybe some were in the same unfortunate position as you, tragically locked to your hometown.

You were sat outside the backside of the mall, listening to people’s conversations around you. Though you were never much of a socialite, you were very interested in the way people interacted with one another, especially if they were from completely different backgrounds than you.

Two books sat besides you, knees brought up close to your chest as your papers leaned against your legs. You messily wrote down strings of sentences and words of inspiration, a description of what you were seeing too, every now and then. You were an aspiring writer, hoping your literary skills would one day break you out of your current situation, but with the current state of the world, that’s all you could really be. Hopeful.

You were daydreaming about the life you’d build for yourself, finger running over the tip of your pen. You were so involved in your own train of thoughts, you almost hadn’t noticed the sudden new presence besides you. 

“Watcha writin’, pretty girl?” 

The voice sounded familiar. A little too familiar for your liking, actually. You kept your eyes on the page, hoping you conveying your disinterest was working in driving the guy away. You sighed, clicking the pen a few times. “Do you really care, or do you just wanna bother me?”

You could hear a faint chuckle, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t sound nice. Still, you were working, and you preferred not to be disturbed when you were.

“You got me there,” the guy spoke, and you could tell he’d moved a little closer, because you could now smell a sliver of his cologne. “Was never one for books, but I’ve been wanting to read more. What is this, Pride and Prejudice?” He picked up one of the books, and you turned, about to take it from when your eyes landed on his face, freezing midway when you finally realized why he sounded so familiar.

Steve motherfucking Harrington.

Same cocky smile, same brown eyes, same somehow always perfectly styled hair, and probably same asshole altogether.

You squinted slightly, not sure if you were hallucinating or not. “... Steve Harrington?” You question, and you could tell he doesn’t quite know how to react at first.

Truth be told, Steve had changed. A lot. All the things he’d gone through, the connections he’d made, the ego checks he got, it made him a new man. Or so he definitely liked to believe. But he was also painfully aware of his reputation, his old persona still haunting him sometimes. Still, he’d never seen you before, so he hoped it was a relatively positive image you had of him.

“I guess my reputation precedes me,” he smiled, and you think it’s the first time you’d ever seen him genuinely smile. Not the smile he gave you when his friends were teasing you, no, this one was much softer. “Or maybe... We’ve met before?”

And then it clicked.

Steve had no clue who you were.

Sure, you’d developed a better sense of style over the years. You no longer needed braces, you had grown into your body better, and your glasses fit your face a lot more. But you didn’t think you changed that much. Besides, your personality had remained the same. You were still the sharp tongued, book loving, nerdy girl he’d bullied back then.

It was true, he didn’t recognize you. He was almost certain you were new in town, telling his best friend Robin that if he knew you, he’d definitely recognize a face that pretty. She had no clue who he was talking about, this mysterious girl he’d seen reading and writing all over Hawkins, so she just told him to make a move. So he did.

“So uh,” He leaned his arm over the backside of the bench, facing you. “I was wondering if you’d maybe like to go out sometime. Y’know, catch a movie, go to the arcade, whatever you’d like to do for fun, uh...” he flipped the book open on the first page, reading your name aloud. And then it clicked for him too. You weren’t new here, and you most certainly knew him. He looked back up at you, already getting ready to apologize when you snatched the book from his hands and got up. 

“Go fuck yourself, ‘king Steve’.” You scowled, shoving your stuff in your bag and angrily walking off.

He had to admit, that stung, hearing you use his old nickname like that, and then watching you storm off. He was starting to realize that there were more consequences to his high school endeavors than he’d initially imagined, that he couldn’t just move on and pretend that he was a new person now. He had to make things right. Starting with you, the pretty girl with the glasses. 

“And-- and then, wait for it-- I look into the book, right?” Steve stands behind the counter of Family Video, hands motioning vividly as he tells his friend about what had happened the day before.

Robin nods, mumbling some kind of “uhuh” as she continues to organize the shelves.

“And it’s her! It’s four eyes!” He exclaims, looking expectantly at his colleague, hoping for a big reaction.

“I’m sorry, who?” Robin’s face contorts in confusion, turning to face him with a hand on her hip.

“Shit, uh, she was like always reading and stuff, and she had these-- these glasses, they were way too big for her face, and--”

His sentence was cut short by the jingle of the door opening, and the two of them looked to see you there, who was clearly not expecting a welcome committee. Your gaze crossed Steve’s, and for a moment he felt like you were about to kill him with just your stare. You rolled your eyes, scoffing audibly and started looking through the shelves.

Robin looked at Steve, mouthing a “is that her”, to which he nodded stealthily. She replied by smiling approvingly, as if she now understood exactly why he wanted to make things right. You were really pretty, she could definitely see that.

You damn near slammed down the tape you wanted to rent for the day on the counter, avoiding eye contact as you looked through your bag for your wallet.

“Are you already registered at Family Video or—“

“No.” You cut him off, head snapping up.

“Alright,” Steve nodded, slightly intimidated. “I’ll just need your name and phone number for the registry.”

You stared at him for a few moments, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. Did he really think you were that stupid?

“Are you fucking—“ You looked over at his colleague. “Is he fucking with me?”

Robin shook her head slowly, slightly intimidated. Though she could see why he had to work his way up to talking to you, she had to admit, it was quite funny seeing Steve actually struggle talking to a girl like this.

“We need it in case you don’t return the tape.” He gave you a thin lipped, awkward smile as he got the keyboard out to type it in.

“Fine,” You huffed, “but if I get a personal call from you, I’m changing numbers.” You started to list your phone number and complete your registration. You just wanted to watch the Breakfast Club for christ’s sakes, this was taking ages…

“That’ll be 10 dollars,” he put on a sweet, almost customer service-y smile, “please.”

“Yeah, fine, just—“ You rummaged through your bag, brows furrowing when you still couldn’t manage to find your wallet. You were certain you had it, although you did grab your stuff in a bit of a rush that morning. “I swear it’s here, it’s just under all this other stuff…”

You were about to dump the contents of your bag onto the counter when Steve held up his hand, pulling out his own wallet. “It’s fine, I got it.” He deposited 10 dollars of his own into the cash register, sliding the tape back over to you along with a receipt. “Courtesy of Steve Harrington.”

You looked down at the tape, and something in you wanted to smile. You were still getting used to this, guys doing nice things for you because you were pretty, but it was different from Steve. You were mad at him, and rightfully so. Te, measly dollars wasn’t going to cut it.

You muttered a “thanks”, stuffing the tape in your bag and waving Robin a quick goodbye before speed walking back outside. Your cheeks burned hot, and you hated to admit it, but it was a really cute gesture from Steve.

“She seems nice.” Robin said, watching Steve’s expression falter with a bit of an amused grin.

Steve leaned his face into his hands, watching you leave through the window. “The nicest.” He sighed, lowering his head to rub his hands over his face. “I’m gonna have to give that another try though.”

Robin chuckled, going back to the task at hand. “Good luck with that, casa nova.”

And so he did. He kept trying. It wasn’t just because he wanted to prove something to himself, he was genuinely intrigued by you. Even back in high school, he wondered what was going on in that head of yours when you’d daydream in class, or when you were writing during breaks. But he knew he’d never hear the end of it from Tommy if he talked to you, so he chose the easy way out. Coping by making fun of you. At least that way, he never had to prove to anyone if he liked you or not.

But it wasn’t fair, not towards you, of course. He never should have treated you that way, and this was his chance of making things right. And maybe finally finding out what was always happening in that pretty mind of yours.

You were stacking books on the shelves at your job, humming a tune to yourself. You liked your job, you always got to buy books at discounted prices and read whenever it was quiet. It was a nice step-up to what would hopefully become a real writing job one day, having your own books sold in a place like this.

“Excuse me,” a voice stirred you from your daydreaming, “I’m looking for something new to read.”

You turned, and as soon as you once again caught sight of Steve, your customer service smile faded into a scowl. “You stalking me now, Harrington?”

He put up his hands in a defensive position. “Woah, jump to conclusions much?” He chuckled nervously. “No, I uh... Robin told me you worked here. So I decided to drop by.” He followed closely behind you as you walked to the back to start stacking the shelves there.

“So what are you really doing here, besides bothering me?” You turned, a book clutched to your chest. It reminded him of how you used to walk the halls, always with a book held over your heart. It was almost poetic, now that he thought about it. He knew books were your comfort, so it only made sense you’d always keep one near.

“Like I told you,” he leaned against one of the shelves, hand slipping down just a tad which almost made him lose composure, “I’m looking for somethin’ new to read.”

You raised an eyebrow, and you had to admit, he had your attention. “You?” You scoffed, followed by an almost mocking chuckle. “Shit, I didn’t even know you could read.”

He pretended to be hurt, hand over his heart as he said your name in an offended tone. “I’m wounded! I’m trying to explore more literature and here I am getting judged!” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, blood rushing to your cheeks from embarrassment. You were supposed to be mad, not humor his flirting, no matter how cute he was. “I uh... Well, I read this book not too long ago. It’s about two lovers who travel the world playing the music together, and one of them dies, so the other has to like, find their own sound...” You realized you were rambling a little, wide eyes looking up at him. “Or... Something like that.”

“Yeah! Yeah, that-- that sounds great. Cool. Totally.” He tried his best to brush off how your eyes were making him feel. So pretty, even when behind your glasses, he could tell how much emotion they held.

“Cool, cool,” now you were the one trying to play it cool, fingers fidgeting with the hardcover you were holding. “I’ll, uhm-- go check our stock really quick.” 

He let you do your thing as he looked around the store, flipping through the pages of random books he found. Truth be told, Steve hadn’t read a single book ever since he stopped being forced to because of high school. Not because he hated reading, he just... Wasn’t very good at it. He’d often mouth along with the words, sentence by sentence, sometimes even whispering them to himself.

You returned not long after, strangely enough, with nothing in hand. “So, I think we ran out, but uh...” You adjusted your glasses. “I can lend you my copy.” You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling nervously. “If you want.”

Steve was quite surprised by your proposal. He knew how precious your books were to you, but giving one to him? The guy who’d stomped on your own personal property not even that long ago? Damn. Maybe you were just that nice. Which made him feel even worse for treating you like shit.

“Totally! Yeah, uhm, I’ll take good care of it. Like, seriously, I’ll protect it with my life.” He grinned, and you hated how infectious his smile was. 

“Good,” you handed him your copy, and he could tell it was well loved. “I better not find any mud on this one.” He nodded at your comment, swallowing down his guilt at the memory. There was a bookmark at the front, and he could tell by the dozens of sticky tabs sticking out that you were serious about your reading. So he decided to be serious about it too.

“You can give it back whenever you’re done.” You smiled awkwardly, subtly letting him know he could read it at his own pace. “Just come drop it off when you’re ready.” He was about to thank you, when you raised a finger to interrupt him. “In the exact same condition, Harrington.” Though your gesture was sweet, he could tell you still weren’t fully on good terms with him. That was fine by him, he was glad he was making any progress at all, really. 

“Yeah-- yeah, for sure, no problem.” He stood there for a few seconds, book held under his arm as his other hand busied itself running through his hair. “I’ll uh... I’ll see you around.”

You smiled at how nervous he seemed. “Yeah, totally, see you around Steve.” You gave him a quick wave and went back to stocking the shelves.

Steve heart swelled with a familiar feeling as he walked out. He knew you were pretty, gorgeous even, but seeing you smile, and say his name like that... Man, he felt like an even bigger idiot for being such a douche to you back in the day. You were being so nice, and you had absolutely no reason to. He stood outside, thinking of your sweet voice and cute glasses, and clutched the book to his chest.

Huh. That did actually feel kinda nice.

And so he walked home like that, the entire way, with a tight hold on the book. He’d rather die than let it get damaged now.

One of the first things he did when he got home was go to his room, sit down on his bed and open the book. On the first page, you had your name written, and it brought him right back to when he first saw you again. Something inside him feels superficial and shallow for only talking to you now that you look different, but all the circumstances were different too. You’d both grown, matured, he just wished you’d give him more of a chance to show it.

But in a way, he supposed this was the first step to earning your trust.

He’d spent almost the entire night reading, smiling and even chuckling at some of your annotations. He was glad there was a key at the start, so he knew which color meant what. He’d even grabbed a dictionary from downstairs because he didn’t understand some words, but was eager to learn more. Reading your comments made it feel like you were right there with him. They were funny, making him crack a grin at how outraged you could be at some of the characters’ decisions.

He imagined your face when one of your comments mentioned you’d cried, and his heart twisted at the thought. Because he knew what you looked like when you cried, thick tears running over soft cheeks, lashes wet. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t still look pretty, but man, he was now more insistent on proving he’d changed than ever. Maybe his budding crush was helping that a little too.

A little more than a week later, he’d returned to the store you worked to return the book. Frankly speaking you weren’t sure if was actually going to bring it back, let alone in the exact same condition you’d given it to him in.

“So, what did you think?” Your face beamed a sort of excitement you’d only see when your interests were being discussed, and this was definitely one of them. Besides your boss, you never really had anyone to talk to about books. Though Steve was more of an unconventional choice, you enjoyed the conversation nonetheless.

What surprised you even more was that he’d actually read it. Like really, really read it, including your annotations and comments. It warmed your heart to know he had put actual time and effort into enjoying the whole thing, and he looked pretty cute talking about it too.

“But the ending broke my heart, seriously—“

“I know, right? How could she not have forgiven him for not leaving behind the music sheets? It was clearly to help her move on!”

“Ugh, I know! Man, you get it.” He laughed softly, fingers running through his chocolate colored hair.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” You laughed along, the noise in your throat slowly dying out as you got a bit too caught up in the sight of him. Steve Harrington was a handsome young man, that was common knowledge. There was a reason all those girls were always swooning over him, and you hated to admit that you could see where they were coming from. But you didn’t like the overly cocky, flirty side of him you knew in high school. You like this side, the soft, considerate, attentive Steve you’d been getting to know a little better.

Yeah, you were growing fond of him. 

Which is exactly why you’d said yes to hanging out with him at the park the day after. Just “hanging out”, in his own words. He’d been careful not to make the same mistake he did the first time he talked to you, rather easing you into spending time with him one on one. He’d hate to break your trust now that you were finally able to look at him with something other than anger in your eyes.

It was already quite late when the two of you met up. You’d been busy with work, and him with helping out Dustin, so once the two you arrived at the park, it was already dark. You didn’t mind, though. Less chance of other people bothering you. 

You settled on a more secluded area, Steve had even been nice enough to bring a blanket to sit on. You were initially just going to discuss the contents of the latest book he’d borrowed from you, but you had a feeling something else was left to be said.

And he was well aware of this too.

So when you were staring up at the sky, moonlight illuminating your features in a way he’d only seen described in the books he had read, he figured he couldn’t keep talking to you without clearing the air. You deserved that much.

“You know,” he cleared his throat, “I thought about what happened a lot.”

You bring your gaze over to him, tilting your head slightly. “My my, whatever could you mean?” You said, teasingly so. He knew you wanted him to just say it. And who was he to deny you of a justified apology.

He took a deep breath, fingers running through his locks. It had become almost a nervous tic to him.

“I’m really sorry about everything I did.” He said, in the most genuine tone he could muster. “Seriously, I-- I’m just kind of... ashamed, really.” 

You could tell he was struggling to look at you, and you wondered how much thought he’d given this already.

“You never really realize how stupid and insignificant high school shit seems until you get out in the real world, you know? Like-- none of it matters, none of that popularity, shit, and-- and I wish I’d just realized that sooner because now--” He caught sight of your eyes and for a second, completely lost his train of thoughts. He realized he wasn’t getting to the point, suddenly understanding Robin’s need to nervously ramble entirely.

“Point is, I’m really, really sorry for the way I treated you.” His hand inched closer to yours, itching to grab it to emphasize his point. “I’ve changed a lot, and I hope that’s become at least slightly believable.” He smiled nervously, all kinds of possible responses you could give running through his mind.

They all came to a halt when he saw you smile.

That sweet, kind smile he’d seen back in high school and avoided because of how it made him feel.

The same smile that was currently reducing him to a nervous teenage boy with a crush.

“It’s okay, Steve.” You spoke softly, and the words came as a mercy to his overbearing thoughts. Your hand moved over his, and you ran a thumb over his knuckles. His hand was soft, warm, and a little clammy from what you could only assume to be the nerves.

“I’m not gonna make you beg for my forgiveness, don’t worry.” You chuckled, and his heart damn near melted at the sound. He secretly wished they could bottle whatever feeling your laugh gave him, so he could keep it with him in times of need.

“Really?” He tilted his head, brown locks falling in different ways around his face. “Because, like-- I’ll do it. Wait--” He got up on his knees and reached besides the blanket, plucking a stray flower from the grass and kneeling in front of you. He cleared his throat in an exaggerated way, before addressing you with your name. “My dearest, will you please forgive me for being a top shelf douchebag to you before?” 

You couldn’t contain your laugh, feeling your face heat up at the sight of him kneeling in front of you. “Steeeeve!” You exclaimed, hands coming up to cover your face. “Okay, okay, I forgive you!”

He chuckled along with you, reaching out and gently tucking the flower behind your ear. “Alright, well--” he sat down again, now significantly closer than before, turned towards you. “would you perhaps do me the honor of going out with you then?”

You bit your lip, pretending to think about your answer as he looked at you in anticipation. Instead of answering, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his plush lips. It was better than you’d imagined, his hand finding its way on your cheek as he melted into it. He made a soft, almost pleading noise, once you pulled away, and you swore he’d never looked prettier. 

“Sure, I’ll go out with you.” You brushed a lock of hair out of his face. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

He grinned. “I’d hope so, after a kiss like that.”

“Shut up.” You muttered, before connecting your lips again.

He would have done so either way. Because you’d officially rendered Steve Harrington speechless. And painfully in love. 

[steddiehyperfixation]

eddie munson has only ever been kissed in clubs, in crowds, under deafening music and flashing lights with more alcohol in his veins than blood. he knows what it's like to kiss rough and want carnally, to be pushed against walls and dragged into bathroom stalls.

but what is it like to kiss someone and have it mean something? what is it like to know someone's soul, or even just their name, before their lips, before their body?

what is it like to kiss someone and feel something? what is it like to have a kiss make your heart beat louder than the music and set off fireworks in your body brighter than the flashing lights?

that's something he's never known, something he's starting to believe he never will. maybe it's something he's not even capable of knowing.

he's loved before, never been loved in return. the men he's cared for, fallen for, in any real way were always ones who would never be able to care for him the same. the only men willing to kiss him are the ones who dance away at the end of the night and leave only faceless, nameless memories in his hazy mind.

until steve harrington. until a chance encounter in a gay club with a high school crush years after high school has ended.

it's the same old story: too-loud music and strobe lights; drunk and dancing closer, trading glances and smirks until hands land on waists and slide over hips and lips crash together and bodies collide. it's the same old story: kissing hard and wandering hands and grinding hips; eddie gets pressed back into the gross wall damp with the humid sweat of all the other bodies in the room.

but steve doesn't dance away at the end of it. he pulls away with a grin, keeping his fingers entangled with eddie's as he jumps and shouts along to the lyrics of the song that just came on. he dances with eddie innocently then, just for the fun of it, not like he's trying to get any more out of him.

and when he tugs on eddie's hand and drags him from the dance floor, it's not to a bathroom stall but to the bar where he buys eddie a drink and they talk. they catch up on all the years that have passed between them, trade stories and laughter and banter that reawaken eddie's old crush and set it aflutter in his stomach like he's 17 again.

eventually they return to the dance floor. ("i love this song!" steve gasps, eyes lighting up, and how could eddie refuse?). after a song or two, steve pulls eddie into another kiss, hands and lips softer than before, yet still just as passionate.

and the music is still deafening and the lights are still flashing, but this time, finally, eddie's heartbeat is louder, the fireworks brighter.

(ao3)