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bobohu4eva · 10 months ago

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Ecstasy

Part 5 - Psycho

Characters: Reader x Baekhyun Feat. Chanyeol

Genre: Soloist AU, smut, angst, fluff

WC: 5.4k

Tag List: @nana-banana @xzyxbbh @iluvybs @greasywall @endzii23 @scopoliax @silent-potato23-blog @baekyeonoreo

Warnings for this chapter: explicit smut, fuckin while on drugs (LSD), drug use and its consequences

A/N: In case everyone hasn't already forgotten about this series because I suck horrendously at updating! Sorry! This is also most definitely the most intense thing I have ever written! There's a reason it took me so goddamn long lol hopefully I can be a little more consistent from now on

Masterlist

Addiction (noun): Disorder characterized by compulsive engagement in rewarding stimuli despite adverse consequences

“When’s your next day off?”

He sent her the text a few days after their last night together, a whole day already planned for them in his mind. He just had to figure out how he’d make it happen.

She eagerly let him know, and he told her he’d be picking her up that morning, surprisingly early, but she didn’t question it, she was getting to see him, after all. And from what it sounded like, she’d get him all to herself, all day, at his lavish penthouse.

Baekhyun once again insisted on keeping his plans for them secret, so when that morning arrived and he picked her up, she had no idea what she was in store for. However the last time he’d refused to tell her his plans they ended up getting high, and she had a hunch that it might be something similar.

“Are you finally gonna tell me what we’re doing today?” She asked him once he’d started driving, this time showing up in a different car, a silver convertible Porsche.

‘Hmmm.. No, but I’ll show you once we get to my place. The last surprise was fun though, wasn't it?”

He took his eyes off the road for a second to look over at her, his taunting smile daring her to disagree with him, but knowing she wouldn’t dare.

“So more drugs?”

He grimaced, “sounds bad when you say it like that.”

“Am I wrong though?”

“If I tell you that would ruin the surprise.”

She just laughed and rolled her eyes, deciding to wait until she had more details to really judge.

“You’ve been working all week right? Any more run-ins with Mr Kim?”

As soon as he said it, her eyes went to his arm. Now that he was wearing a t-shirt, she could clearly make out the mark from the cigarette, the burn still not completely healed, and even then, it looked like it might scar.

“I should be the one asking you that, you know.”

She saw him glance down at his arm too. “You didn’t answer the question.”

“No, I likely won’t see him again for a while, thank god.” She frowned, still disappointed that he was so reluctant to talk about it. “What about you though? Do you work with him a lot?”

“Unfortunately, yeah.” He still looked uncomfortably serious, but he perked up in less than a second as he pulled into the garage of his building. “But that’s just showbiz baby.”

He was so nonchalant about it, and left no room for her to protest, so she simply allowed him to lead her up to his beautiful apartment once again.

She hadn’t given too much thought as to what drugs Baekhyun had planned for them to take that day, pretty much assuming that it would be mushrooms again, or maybe some weed or molly. But after digging around a bit in one of his kitchen drawers, he pulled out an envelope containing a small piece of colorful paper, with perforated lines criss-crossing it, dividing it into smaller pieces still. She’s never seen it in person before, but quickly recognized it as LSD.

Just like the time before, he saw the hesitance on her face.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Last time everything ended up fine, and we had a great time, didn’t we?”

“I know we did, but this is different isn’t it? I really don’t want it to be too much or something and start freaking out.”

He sighed, setting the envelope back down on the counter and coming to her, leaning in for a quick kiss. “It’s just the two of us here, no interruptions, no obligations, just you, and me. I won’t let anything bad happen. If you start to feel overwhelmed, just tell me and I’ll do whatever it is you need me to to help you calm back down. That day at Chanyeol's house was the most… at peace, I’ve felt in a long time. I’ve been thinking a lot about that day, and what we talked about, that’s why I want to try this with you.”

“You haven’t done this before either?”

“No, I have, but it’s been a while, I don’t remember much of it.”

“Why don’t you remember it?”

“It's a long story, but I don’t remember much from that time of my life in general.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d said the wrong thing, she looked uncomfortable again.

“Y/n, sweetheart.” He cooed, and her eyes met his, feeling his warm hands intertwining with her own. “You don’t have to do anything, and I don’t want to pressure you, this is just something I’ve had on my mind lately. I still want to get to know you better.”

“Is it not possible to do that without getting high?”

“Of course it is, but you know what I mean.”

She thought back to the day they'd had out at Chanyeol’s house, and she understood what he was saying. “Okay maybe.”

“So what do you say, hm?” His hands ran down her shoulders, then her arms, eyes never leaving hers. The slight tilt of his head and the way he looked at her with his best puppy eyes ruined any ability she might’ve had to reason with herself.

“Alright, if you’re sure it’s a good idea.”

He grinned, and finally he was kissing her, really kissing her, not like the little peck from earlier. His tongue slipped past her lips, and his hand held her face to his own. It didn’t take long for her to start feeling weak in the knees.

As he pulled away he turned to the counter, grabbing the envelope again. He tore off two of the little squares of paper, placing one on his own tongue, and the other on hers.

“What now?”

He shrugged, “It'll start to kick in in about an hour, have you eaten? I can order us something, or see what I have here.”

They ended up making breakfast together, and she was surprised by how sweet he was being to her, even more so than usual. It didn't just feel like the usual flirtation that went on with him. Despite not being much of a cook himself, he did his best to help out, and the way he rested his chin on her shoulder, singing softly in her ear as she stood in front of the stove, made her heart flutter. When she was done he thanked her, and told her time and time again how great the meal was.

By the time they were done eating, she realized she was starting to feel the effects of the drug. Colors were becoming more vibrant, and patterns would start to move if she looked at them for long enough. It wasn't entirely dissimilar from the mushrooms, but it was definitely still different, especially the way her body felt.

Baekhyun must've noticed the way she was staring off at things, or just the unusually large size of her pupils, since he asked, “how are you feeling?”

“I'm not sure.. kind of weird.”

“Come here.”

He led her to the big cozy looking couch in his living room, facing the windows overlooking the river. He sat down, and she followed suit, resting between his spread legs, leaning her head back on his chest. Some music began to play, and even though they were just sitting there, she felt like her mind was going into overdrive.

If the mushrooms made her feel heavy, more in touch with nature, LSD was the opposite. She was buzzing, electric, almost. It wasn't unpleasant, but she didn't exactly enjoy it either.

“Are you okay? Your heart is racing.”

She wouldn't have even realized it if he hadn't brought it up, but he was right.

“I.. don't know.”

“Y/n, baby.”

She turned around, until she was basically laying on top of him on the couch, facing him.

His pupils somehow grew even larger when her eyes met his, and for a good minute, neither of them could look away. The rest of his face looked just as inviting. His skin smooth and sunkissed, pretty features in perfect harmony. And then there were his lips. Soft, pink, asking to be kissed. Eventually she gave into the temptation, and their lips collided.

That was a feeling she had not been prepared for, even in the slightest.

It was like the excitement of kissing him for the very first time, that night at the club, had come rushing back tenfold.

It was he who eventually pulled away, still looking at her with a bit of concern. “You're shaking.”

He took one of her hands that had been resting on his chest into his own, further confirming his previous words.

“Did that not feel crazy for you too?”

The way she looked at him, eyes wide, panting and shaking at the intensity of it, made his chest swell with pride. Any concern he showed quickly melted away as he grinned back at her. “Kiss me again.”

He didn't have to ask twice. She pressed her lips to his without hesitation, moaning into the feeling as waves of euphoria washed over her.

Baekhyun, too, could feel how much more intense it was, kissing her and touching her with the added excitement the drug offered. The MDMA as well as the mushrooms had given a similar effect, but not nearly to the same degree.

While the mushrooms had made him sentimental, wanting to hold her, feel the way her chest rose and fell in sync with his own, the LSD made him ravenous. Sex, while high on mushrooms, didn't even seem possible. The overall heaviness of the body high simply didn't feel sexy, but now he could think of nothing else.

But Baekhyun knew that they had all day, and was in no rush. For what could've been anything from several minutes to a few hours, the drug blurring time into irrelevance, they simply laid there, lips pressing together again and again, until he pushed his tongue past her lips, smiling into it when she once again moaned at the newfound depth of the kiss. With both hands on her waist he felt the way she continued to shake, overwhelmed by the new sensations.

Not wanting to overwhelm her too much, and still enjoying the onset of the drug, Baekhyun eventually pulled away, standing up from the couch, with her following.

He leaned in, forehead resting against hers with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Wanna dance?”

She smiled back at him and nodded, and soon the room was full of music, something sexy that would make them want to move.

With one hand in his own he twirled her around, placing himself behind her, hands on her hips as they both swayed to the beat. The heat of his chest pressed to her back and his words in her ear as he sang along further heightened how intoxicated she already was. The room around her appeared to melt and shift in a colorful whirlwind, though she didn’t mind it, still more focused on the man behind her than anything else. With the music pulsating through her, his body pressed to hers, she gave into it, even tearing up a little as she kept moving her body. This was the definition of euphoria, she thought. It simply couldn’t get any better than this, the rush of it all so overwhelming that it moved her to tears.

When she spun around in his arms, attaching her lips to his own, she saw fireworks behind her eyelids, colorful bursts filling her vision even as her eyes were closed. Every touch of his hands brought waves of delight that surged through her without even an ounce of reluctance. Baekhyun noticed her tears, but he could feel it too, not questioning even for a second if they came from anything but pure happiness.

She let out a yelp when he momentarily broke away before scooping her up in his arms, and carrying her into the bedroom.

Baekhyun, too, felt the burning need for more, seeming almost frantic in the way he laid her down, wasting not a single second before slotting himself between her legs.

He was on fire, his tongue in her mouth, dancing with her own as he tugged on her clothes with a kind of impatience she’d never seen before. He thought he would be able to stay patient, savor the feeling and enjoy her with some restraint, but he now saw how wrong he’d been. With the high at it’s full intensity, he was insatiable, he wanted every piece of her, the craving for more so intense even he began to lose it, hands shaking as he got the clothes off her body. First her shirt, then her pants, and eventually her bra, all thrown haphazardly across the room, no care for anything but the need for more skin.

She arched into him, pushing her hands past his shirt, her touch against his bare abdomen bringing a gasp from him. After one more heated kiss he sat up, pulling the fabric over his head and fussing with his belt, finally getting that off as well. When he leaned back in, he didn’t kiss her, instead, he found himself taking her face in his hand, staring.

“So beautiful… You make me feel so fucking crazy, you have no idea.”

His eyes kept scanning her face, taking her in all he could, the way his words made her lip quiver, the blush on her cheeks, it was all perfection, the high adding an aura of effervescence. To him, she was glimmering, sparkling.

“You’ve been making me crazy ever since I met you.” She answered, knowing she was just as insane for him.

His lips pressed themselves to hers, this time though, something felt different to him. He felt himself almost start to tear up, though he fought it off, not wanting her to see the way it all overwhelmed him, too. The emotions roared to a new peak, making him sentimental, kissing her deeper, in love with the way her hands on his back pressed him further into her, never wanting her warmth to leave him, not then, not ever, as far as he was concerned.

“You’re mine, baby, mine.”

The words were pressed into the side of her neck between kisses, and when her voice failed her, all she could do was nod.

“I want to hear you say it.”

She tried to get it out, she really did, but when his fingers briefly met the waistband of her underwear the words got caught somewhere between a gasp and a moan.

He moved slowly, hungry lips making their way down her neck, spending some time nipping at the sensitive area near her collarbone, before finally giving attention to her bare chest. His hands too squeezed and pinched at the sensitive skin where his lips couldn’t reach, and the sounds she made were music to his ears, though he still wanted to hear those words more than anything else.

“Fuck, say it, please.”

“I’m yours.”

By that point the onslaught of emotion had completely overpowered her, simply giving into the way he touched her, too far gone to even think, making it near impossible to form words. It was all like a dream, his touch combined with the high whisking her away to another plane of existence, one where she could do little more than lay back, shaking, gasping, taking in the waves of pleasure that came her way. The weight of him between her thighs and his mouth and fingers as they teased her nipples felt like heaven and hell all at once, both divine and almost frighteningly tempting. He could see it in the way she looked up at him, eyes glazed over, nothing behind them but desire, a deep yearning for more, even if she couldn’t express it, the intensity rendering her speechless.

In the back of her mind she realized the staggering difference between how he acted then compared to every other time they'd been in bed together. She felt the urgency in the way he touched her, hands that were usually so steady, so confident, now shaking, along with his unsteady breaths. Never before had he voiced such possessiveness either, though it didn't feel out of place in the slightest. She knew she belonged to him, no other man would ever be able to compare. He was so exhilarating, she felt that the piece of paper she'd had was nothing, the real drug was him.

She was already out of her mind, and his hand had yet to venture between her legs. With his mouth still on her chest, kissing and nibbling and sucking at the soft curves, he slowly began to venture south, each kiss on her stomach adding more fuel to the fire within her. When his fingers finally hooked themselves into the waistband, slowly pulling the last piece of clothing off her body, a loud moan fell from her lips. She lay there underneath him, panting, mind in a whirlwind, completely exposed, waiting for more.

Baekhyun was eager to deliver. His mouth went straight in, licking up the wetness he’d coaxed from her thus far, the feeling of his tongue incessantly flicking her clit making her hips push against his face, pleading with him for more. The taste made him groan, vibrations coursing through her, his lips and tongue bringing her close to release quicker than she knew possible. From the very first touch she’s already lost control, twitching and nearly screaming at the strength of her own desire. It was all too much, the tension leaving her helpless to his touch, fingers in his hair as she came on his tongue in mere minutes.

The orgasm washed over her like a rushing waterfall, knocking any rational thought from her mind as she shook and gasped. It was a new experience completely, the added rush of her high bending her mind into an unfamiliar torrent of pleasure. Finally prying her eyes open to look down at him between her legs, the smirk present on his wet lips was pure eroticism, his handsome face a work of art. The onslaught of her high had been so paralyzing she hadn’t even noticed the substantial volume of her moans, not until Baekhyun commented,

“My baby can’t help being loud for me, hm?”

A whine escaped her, anticipation building even further as Baekhyun stripped off the last of his clothes. He reclaimed his place between her thighs, looking down at her flushed face, basking in the warmth of the moment as they both stared, entranced. The beads of sweat on his face appeared more like precious pearls, lips a soft pink pillow, eyes of deep chocolate brown, baiting her to get lost. Even with the way the drug made everything shift and twist about, he stayed still, shining, glowing, illuminating her entire world.

He leaned in, kissing her with an unexpected tenderness, soft lips moving with hers gently, almost carefully. When he pulled back his forehead rested against her own, eyes fixed on hers.

“Do you want more?”

She nodded without any hesitation, and the smile on his handsome face was enough for more butterflies to erupt within her. By that point she was dripping, throbbing, wanting nothing more than to finally feel him inside.

“Can you say it for me?”

“Please, Baekhyun. I want - I need- more. Fuck, please.”

Her eyes were filled with greed and impatience as she watched him grab the packet from the nightstand and roll a condom onto himself, wondering how he was still able to keep it together enough to even consider such a thing. The room continued to dance and shift about in a dream like kaleidoscope as he moved himself over her again, both an anchor and a source of even greater insanity to her.

When she felt him finally push inside, it was like she was experiencing it for the very first time. Now chest to chest, fully flush, surrounded by him completely, she felt herself break. The tears were back, and with every push of his hips into her, sparks filled her distorted vision. She tried to look up at him, but her eyes felt heavy, unable to concentrate on anything but the feeling of him above her, and inside her.

Baekhyun was no better off. The drug amplified everything to such a degree that he too found himself letting go of any restraint, letting the high take him wherever it so pleased. His moans, and the ever increasing cadence of his thrusts told her just how affected he was, too. She began to move with him, rolling her body into his more or less involuntarily, just wanting to feel more of him, and he did all he could to deliver.

When his eyes finally met hers again, his thumb moved to wipe away the tears, though they only communicated to him her immense and paralyzing delight. The way she looked up at him encouraged him further, his hips hitting her more deeply, savoring the feeling every time he entered her, again and again.

The drug had overpowered her senses so entirely, that the lines, the boundary between herself and him began to fade into obscurity, she was a part of him, and he, a part of her. She sensed his pleasure, and felt it in her own body, the same way she knew he felt her, too. They melted together, the high and the closeness of being so intimately connected merging them into one.

Every time he filled her, she felt him brush against that delicious spot deep inside that made her tremble. He was perfection, beyond perfection, even. Having him there with her, enjoying her as she enjoyed him, whisked them away to a different form of reality. Their shared altered consciousness made it all so much heavier, more real than any sexual experience they could have while sober. This was how it was always supposed to be, they were both sure of it.

His hand clutching her face brought her eyes back to his, whimpering at his intense gaze.

“Who do you belong to, baby?”

“You.” She replied weakly, barely able to get the word out.

“Say it again.”

“You- Baekhyun, oh my god.”

Her words stirred up a whirlwind inside him, his lips latching themselves onto the spot on her neck that made her weakest. The pace of his thrusts picked up even more, and she felt her whole body start to tingle, starting from the tips of her toes moving up her body in waves, until she was consumed by it, and again, she fell.

This orgasm was somehow even better than the last, leaving her shaking, gasping, seemingly tearing apart every atom in her body, and then putting her back together again. Her vision went white, arching, twitching, moaning and completely out of her damn mind as he kept fucking her through it, until he too reached his peak.

When it happened for him, he kissed her with such force, such passion, that she couldn’t breathe, though she didn’t feel she needed to anyway. His affection felt more crucial than oxygen, happily accepting his lips as she floated slowly back to her altered state of reality.

They both lay in the aftermath of the near religious experience they just shared, sweating, panting, still pressed to each other as they recovered from the profoundly overpowering encounter that the drug turned their passion into.

Even after several minutes had passed, she was still dizzy, still unable to come to terms with how incredible Baekhyun had just made her feel.

“I love you.” She whispered, thoughtless, the otherworldly memory of it all and his possessive words drifting through her mind. For a while, he didn’t respond, and she didn’t expect him to. It didn’t feel like some sort of big confession, just what the drug and the height of the moment naturally pulled from her lips.

“I..” he paused, becoming tense, eyes digging into her own. “What?”

The harsh change in his tone snapped her back to reality, and she realized her mistake.

“No- shit, I didn’t mean that-”

“What the fuck did you just say?” He said, sitting up, eyes squeezed shut with a pained expression now on his face.

“I’m sorry, it just slipped out in the moment.” She looked at him, worry turning to panic as the look on his face slowly turned into one of anger.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Get out.” He said again, this time raising his voice, eyes still shut, refusing to look at her.

She started to sit up, tears welling in her eyes, though this time they didn’t come from a good place at all.

“But, you said you wouldn’t let anything bad happen, I’m sorry, I just- I-”

When he finally did meet her eyes, they were hard and mean, not softening at all even at the sight of her tears.

“You can’t be here anymore. Get your shit and get the fuck out.”

“Baekhyun, please, I can't just leave, I'm sorry, really. Please.” She begged, but he wasn't having any of it.

“I said get the fuck out of my apartment. Right fucking now.”

She'd never seen that look on his face before, her shock and upset morphing into fear.

With that she got up, stumbling as she gathered her clothes, leaving his room in a disoriented haze as she got herself dressed, crying harder and harder as the seconds ticked by. The bright colors had turned dark and dull and the patterns that before swirled around so beautifully turned sharp, frightening in their unpredictability. She was delirious as she passed the threshold to his apartment, the hallway seeming to close in on her as she struggled toward the elevator. Luckily nobody saw her as she left the building, eventually collapsing onto a nearby bench under the midday sun, surrounded by the bustling city.

As her eyes squeezed shut she only saw his face, twisted in anger as he told her to leave. It haunted her, though she didn’t want to face the city either, the cacophony of cars and other people entirely too much to handle. She had to get home, and with no other real option, she pulled out her phone, struggling with it for a minute before finally managing to call her best friend.

“Suhyun?”

“Hi! I thought you were gonna be with Baekhyun all day, is everything all right?”

“No…” she said, voice shaking, and even from over the phone Suhyun could tell that something was very wrong.

“Are you okay? Where are you? What happened?”

“I- I don't know, I need you to come get me.”

“Where are you?”

“I don't know, I'm sitting in front of his building, he kicked me out.”

“He did what? You sound weird, what's going on?”

“He gave me drugs, I don't know what to do, I can barely use my phone, I can't take the subway, you have to come get me.”

Suhyun had known her friend long enough to know that something awful had happened, and needed to get there as soon as possible.

“Okay, just stay where you are, I can check your location and come to you, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

She nodded, and her friend on the phone grew even more worried.

“Y/n?”

“Yes! I'm on a bench. I won't move. Please hurry.” Her voice unsteady with the onslaught of tears still pouring out of her.

To make sure her friend was safe, Suhyun stayed on the phone with her until she pulled up, pulling her into the car before making her way towards her friend's apartment.

She was crying quietly to herself in the passenger seat, trying to focus on what was going on outside the window, but still ending up squeezing her eyes shut again and again, seeing his face glaring back at her, making her heart sting every time.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Finally she looked over at Suhyun, and she saw in her eyes that she wasn't in her normal state of mind, growing more and more worried by the minute.

She just shook her head, too overwhelmed to get a word out as the sobs ran through her.

The day had been so perfect, and because of a few little words he'd seemingly snapped, becoming a completely different person. The harshness with which he'd told her to get out kept replaying, she couldn't escape no matter how hard she tried. His face and his words had etched themselves into her mind, the drug making it all so much more horrible.

They eventually reached her apartment, and Suhyun tucked her into bed, holding her, asking once again, “what happened?”

“He wanted to do LSD together,” she eventually choked out “and we- we had sex, and I felt so insane after, I said I love you to him, just because of how crazy it all felt, and he lost it, and yelled at me that I had to get out.”

“He kicked you out of his apartment knowing you were on drugs?”

She nodded.

“Are you still really high? How bad is it? ”

“I could barely work my phone to call you. All I can see when I close my eyes is his face when he yelled at me to get out but when they're open everything is moving and looks like it's about to attack me. It's awful, I just want this to stop already.”

Suhyun stroked her hair as she cried, comforting her, but was growing more and more angry as well. She decided it would be best to take her phone for a while, worried Baekhyun would try to contact her and make things even worse. She took it from where her friend had discarded it on the bed, sliding it into her pocket.

She stayed like that for hours, just keeping her friend company, talking to her, doing her best to reassure her, seeing the way pain and fear consumed her. When she felt the phone start to vibrate she made an excuse to leave the room, and sure enough, it was him.

“Y/n, I'm so-”

“This is her friend. She can't talk to you right now.”

“I need to talk to her, give her her phone back.” She could hear the desperation in his voice, but she didn't care.

“No. She's fucking wrecked because of you. You threw her out onto the street while she was high out of her goddamn mind. She could've gotten arrested for Christ's sake, all because of your selfish bullshit. If you care about her even in the slightest, and genuinely want what's best for her, you're going to leave her alone. For good. She doesn't need you to fuck up her life even more.”

“Please-”

“Goodbye.”

Suhyun ended the call, cutting him off. When he called again and again, she put the phone on mute, deleting every trace of his trying to contact her. The last thing her friend needed was more of him.

At home in his apartment, Baekhyun cursed himself, nearly throwing the phone into a wall. Unbeknownst to both of the girls, he wasn’t much better off.

Those three words had set something off inside him. His high took an awful turn as he watched her leave the apartment, overcome with anger, but mostly, fear. When he called and couldn’t get through to her, it got even worse. Suhyun’s warning to stay away frustrated him beyond belief, but as much as he wanted to talk to her, he had no clue what he would even say, he couldn’t even understand his own feelings.

The guilt and confusion turned the rest of his day into a living nightmare, hoping that he’d somehow still be able to win her back. However as the hours passed, he did come to a realization.

It wasn’t her words that had caused him to suddenly become so agitated, it was the fact that he’d almost said it back.

Next Chapter

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun #baekhyun angst #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fic #exo angst #exo #kpop smut

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stevieharringtonwifeguy · 2 years ago

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omega cheerleader steve in his senior year of high school, walking up to the hidden table in the woods in his game day cheer outfit, looking for alpha eddie munson, local dealer. he asks for some weed, and eddie's like okay, thirty bucks. and steve's like oh no 😔 that's so much 🥺 i don't know if i can afford that 😏 but eddie's just sitting there like ???? aren't you rich???

and steve just. blinks at him for a second. tries again. 'oh man, i forgot my wallet, is there any other way i can pay you?' he says, biting his lip and looking up at eddie through his lashes in that way he KNOWS makes all the alphas go wild

'uh. no. come back when you have money man what are you talking about'

so steve sighs and completely drops the act like goddamn it munson im trying to get you to fuck me. and eddie's like oh. OH! why didn't you just ask then??? and steve blushes and looks away, mutters something about it not being what 'good omegas' do, and how he's so horny and eddie smells so fucking good with his chains and his rings and his tattoos steve's losing it

so they end up making out in the woods by the school, steve grinding down on eddie's lap with eddie's hand up his cheer skirt, both so far gone with lust that when they realise neither of them has a condom, steve just shrugs, tells eddie to pull out before he cums, because hawkins high values abstinence only sex education regardless of whether or not that works. so eddie bends steve over the table and slides in, and he gets so caught up in steve's pussy clenching around him when steve cums that he almost doesn't pull out in time, cum splashing against steve's still fluttering hole and absolutely drenching his entire pussy. but that's fine, he's pretty sure none of it actually got IN there, so they're good, right?

and they hook up another couple times after that, WITH a condom this time now that they know it's going to happen, and they enjoy each other's company so much that steve invites eddie to share his heat with him in a couple weeks. except. when the time comes, steve... isn't actually going into heat. which is fine, maybe it's just late. except, eddie points out that he's been pretty nauseous the past week or so, won't kiss him if eddie's been drinking coffee because he says the smell makes him wanna throw up. and now steve's panicking.

eddie calms him down, says there's no use freaking out if they don't know for sure. gets him a glass of water and a sandwich and tells him to finish them both while eddie runs to the nearest pharmacy to pick up a pregnancy test. the cashier glares at him when he checks out, severely judging the metalhead alpha buying like five male-omega pregnancy tests, but eddie barely even notices, head full of images of steve round with his pup, which yeah, he feels bad about given that steve is clearly freaking out. and he's ALSO kind of freaking out, because they're still in high school and he's a trailer trash drug dealer and absolutely not father material. but also. he likes steve so much. and thinking about being with him, having kids with him. it sounds so nice.

when he gets back to steve's house, steve has finished the glass of water but barely touched the sandwich. eddie hands the tests to him, reads the instructions out loud, stays in the bathroom while steve pees on the stick because the omega looked so lost and scared when eddie tried to give him some privacy. eddie distracts him by telling him about his latest campaign while they wait for the test to do its thing, and while steve is busy laughing about the tantrum gareth had thrown after the party spent two real life hours trying to open a door only to find out it wasn't locked in the first place, eddie quickly flips over the test.

there's two little pink lines. they're going to have a baby.

#steddie #i have fully Thought About the entire pregnancy but i suck at writing so if anyone else wants to do it 🥺🙏#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #obviously they get mated and have eight kids and live happily ever after

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passivenovember · 10 months ago

Text

Harringrove Relay Race -- passing the torch to @raven-cl ! Run babe RUN!

blooming forth, it's every color in the moments it has left.

Turns out, shit hits the fan in the dark.

Steve’s known that. It’s still a surprise when Billy takes Max and hits the ground hot with his feet aching after a long shift at the pool, even though his sandals are covered in blood. His. Neil's.

Doesn't actually matter, because when Steve wakes up to a phone call so late in the night he thinks someone's gotta be dead or dying, or they need to get sucked off like they need air and water and Steve's gotten himself penciled in as the number-one, go-to asshat for both types of situations--

Point is, the phone goddamn rings. Sounds like pennies being thrown against the walls of Steve’s two-bedroom apartment. And it's the middle of the night. All that matters is that when Steve rolls over and yanks the receiver from its cradle, all, "Someone better be dying–”

Billy's trying his best not to cry. "I hit him," Billy says, an earthquake that shakes the foundation of the city. That gets Steve wide-eyed and fearful and awake. "Fuck, Steve, I hit him--"

“What?” Steve sits ramrod in bed, covers a limp and useless pool around him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm. There's, like. Blood," Billy says, "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm okay. Nothing’s broken," Billy pulls away from the phone to say something to someone. To Max, Steve would bet money on it. And then he says, "I have blood on my feet. And. Max has blood in her hair so it looks black, almost, and. Shit, Steve, I hit him--"

"Where are you?”

"--It might be Neil's blood," Billy tells him. Like Steve's lost in the weeds, here. Like he needs a compass pointing him toward the huge, terrible obvious truth. "I--"

"Fuck who's blood it is," Steve tells him, already upright struggling into a pair of week-old jeans. He tries not to focus on that, swallows against the urge to be harsh with himself, because he was knocked out two minutes ago, dreaming of the pretty pink pucker of Billy's cunt when the phone rang. "That's not important. Where are you," Steve asks, cock still hard because he's human, getting tangled in the phone cord, "You said. Is Max--"

"She's okay. We're at a gas station about twenty miles outside of town."

Steve's hard-on dies. "Twenty miles outside of town?"

"Yeah."

"What are you talking about?" Steve doesn't put a shirt on. He throws a jacket over his chest. Billy's jacket. Doesn't even zip the thing. "Never mind. I'm coming to get you."

"The car works, you don't need to get out of bed."

"I'm dressed, I'm out of bed," Steve says, teasing, "Stay put. Are you, like. East or west, twenty miles out of town?"

"Steve," Billy says, and it casts an unflattering spotlight on everything.

Steve ducks to hide from it, searching under his bed for a pair of shoes. "Okay, yeah. Stupid fucking question to ask, but I was asleep--"

"We have to go," Billy tells him.

"Okay," Steve says quickly. Doesn't like the tone of Billy's voice. "Let's go, blue. Where are we going?"

“Max and I–”

“--And you and me,” Steve finishes for him.

“Steve,” Billy says. “You know Max and I can't stay here."

Steve shoves his bare feet into a pair of shoes. Rain boots. "So, you're just gonna leave? Without saying goodbye? There’s no other option, here?”

"This isn't about you."

"Fine," Steve says, stalking over to his dresser mirror. The phone cord tugs on him, not nearly long enough, and he fights the urge to rip it out of the wall. Doesn’t. 'Cause. He'd lose Billy.

Steve fiddles with it, anyway, trying to keep calm. “How’re you gonna get there?”

“We’ll drive.”

“Okay, and what happens when you get to where you’re going?”

“Wow, aren’t you the bearer of bad fuckin’ news–”

“--Billy, you don't have money.”

“So?”

“So, I have money,” Steve concludes, “A shit load of it.”

"Fuck you, I have a shitload of money."

"No, you don't."

"Yeah huh, I've been saving up."

Steve snorts, grasping at straws because. It’s true. The exact opposite of everything Steve’s been hoping would never happen, the same thing as a knife slicing through his heart. Billy’s been saving. Steve knows he’s been saving because Steve pays for every date because Steve’s a dead fuckin’ end and has nothing to goddamn lose by treating his boy right. He’s not going anywhere from here, but Billy–

"You're not leaving,” Steve says.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Fine, then,” Steve backtracks expertly, a perk of what he learned dating girls for nineteen years before this. “You can’t go without saying goodbye.”

“Sap.”

“Let me kiss you, man. I fuckin’. I love--"

"--Steve--"

"--No, it's alright. I gotta say this, 'cause. Every fucking thing in my life is about you, right?"

Billy groans. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled by the wall of whatever payphone booth he's standing in. "You're so annoying."

"So are you. I'm being honest," Steve says. He ducks, a little, peering at his reflection from across the room so he can run a hand through his hair, at least, 'cause.

He's still got a crush on Billy, after all this time. Sue him.

"You're, like," Steve says intelligently, choking to death. "You're everything. You chopped everything up with just bein' yourself and slid into its place and I fuckin' care about you more than. Everything. And if you're going to run away to California--"

"--Who said I was--"

"--Twenty miles west outside of Hawkins?" Steve points out.

Billy doesn't say anything.

Through the static of the phone line, Steve imagines him cast in the grimy street glow of payphone booth glass, tempered but breaking. Twenty miles away but already gone.

Makes Steve crazy. Makes him want to hold on tighter, hard enough to break his own fingers. "I just," He starts, turning from the mirror, "I always thought, or. Maybe I've been thinking lately that if you're going to California, I'd be there to help."

To see you off. To hold your hand. To beg you to make room enough in your suitcase for me to come along–

"Oh yeah? You've been thinking that always?" Billy teases, and. It's gotta be a good thing. That even though he has blood on his feet, he's feeling okay enough to crack-wise.

"Please," Steve says. Tells him. Begs. Has nothing left to do but make it through this phone call even though he's about to shake loose from his own skin.

Steve is very cool these days.

Billy pulls away from the phone and says something, to Max, in a soft, pillow-top rumble that does shit, like. To Steve's belly. His heart. The very rotten, love-sick matter of who he is. Who Billy has turned him into.

Steve bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood, swallowing every single please please please that shifts like the fabric of a sourdough starter in the back of his throat. Steve paces. Taps his foot. Digs his nails into the palm of his free hand while Billy and Max argue in hushed voices for what feels like hours and years.

Finally, Billy says, "Okay, fuckin'. What happens if Neil hears that we haven't left town?"

Steve has to focus so his knees don't give out, full of relief. "That won’t happen. No one pays attention to me. This is an apartment complex."

"Yeah, but what if he drives by and sees the car?"

"I'll kill him," Steve says. Simple, because it is.

Billy snorts. It almost, almost, sounds like a laugh. "'Kay, well. Say he doesn't go looking for the Camaro. What if he calls Hawkins High to try and find out about Max?”

“He won’t.”

“You’re fuckin’ stupid for saying that,” Billy snaps, “Neil doesn’t give a shit about me but her? He won’t let her–”

“--I won’t let him–”

“Shut up; just. What if he shows up during fifth period and--"

"--We're both over eighteen. We’re old as shit, old enough to drink, almost, We'll. I dunno. We’ll change her emergency contact first thing tomorrow so they'll call me at the video store when he breaks into the building," Steve says, "And then I can take my fifteen-minute break to drive over there and kill him."

Billy does laugh that time. Sounds like it hurts. He pulls away from the phone to repeat Steve's evil plan to Max, who starts laughing, too, and Steve would do anything for them. He would be anything for them.

"Come over," Steve says, coiling the phone line around his hand, "Just until we can figure something else out. We can park your car ‘round back by the slop sinks. No one ever goes over there, we can hide you."

"Steve--"

"I can't watch you walk away from me, Billy," Steve says, and. His voice. Fuckin’. Cracks. Like glass and barren earth. A fist to the back of his own head, still. Desperately, pathetically in love with Billy even after all this time. Still drowning in the intensity of it. Sue him.

"Fuck, this is so fucking dumb," Billy says, aching. But he tells Max to sit in the car.

Steve considers it a win.

He decides not to waste the get-up.

Twenty miles'll go by in a heartbeat, and Billy has a tendency to sugarcoat shit when it comes to the marks Neil Hargrove leaves behind. Tends to get jumpy, ready to go pedal-to-the-metal.

Steve prepares for the worst. Makes three cups of coffee, to fight the dregs of the worst, and then dumps them into the sink when he remembers that Max is sixteen years old and it's a Wednesday. Thursday, now.

Whatever.

He makes tea, instead, and sits in the shitty lawn chair on his porch, sipping a mug of the very same chamomile bullshit that Robin keeps buying him.

Steve tries to cobble together a plan in under 30 minutes.

He imagines Billy, shaking and scared and covered in blood, on the canvas chair next to him. Asking how. How are you going to do this? How are you going to prove yourself a safe house for me and my kid sister?

Steve tries not to swallow his tongue, choking to death on the absolute weight of such a responsibility. He focuses on not dying. Hones in on how pissed Robin would be to discover such a close call, and how she would remind him to list the facts.

Truth is, a two-bedroom apartment is more than enough room, Steve tells her. Tells Billy, who looks easier to convince than the one who's on his way in from the edge of town. Everything will be alright. He'll fix up the couch for Max until he can get down to Red Oak Furniture after work tomorrow for a bed frame. He'll need to dip into his savings, but a sixteen year old girl needs her own space, she needs a bed.

Tears slide down Billy's cheeks and Robin disappears. When Billy cries he has a way of wounding everything around him.

His eyes say we need groceries. Steve needs to shop for groceries. Max won't eat a vegetable, but she's still growing, Harrington, and Steve doesn't make enough dough to afford fresh ingredients every week, just when he's putting on his a-game to get into Billy's pants, but.

He's always trying to get into Billy's pants.

Everything boils down to money. Steve needs a new job.

He sips Robin's shitty fuckin' chamomile and tries to focus on the immediate, too piss-poor to list the facts. He'll make tea when they arrive. Dinner, if they're hungry. The couch made up. The tea, drank, and tomorrow when the blood is gone from Billy's feet and his tears have dried, Steve'll call his father and beg for an assistant gig at the office downtown. He's got mouths to feed, now, he's got--

Billy's Camaro swings into view.

Steve jumps to his feet, rain boots squeaking, and holds his breath when the car disappears around the corner, parking where Steve said it would be safe.

"We're only staying for the night," Billy tells him, instead of hello, voice hard as marble the second Steve is close enough to really hear it.

Max throws the passenger door open.

Her backpack is stuffed. Soft. “What the fuck are you wearing?” Max demands.

Steve shifts under the intensity of her stare, embarrassed. “Billy said. I was gonna come and–”

“--You look stupid,” Max tells him helpfully.

Before Steve can move or breathe or think, Max storms past him in a fury of wild red hair and red, wet cheeks. "Thanks," Steve says, but the door slams shut before she hears him.

The entire apartment complex shakes. Hawkins, too, and the world, beyond that. Steve can't take his eyes off it, for a second. For a lifetime. It's a black hole, eating and eating and eating--

"Sorry about that," Billy says. When Steve looks at him, Billy's still half-hanging out of the car. One foot on the ground. Leaning against the gaping wound of the driver's seat with his arm on the lip of the door, like. Steve's going to take Max and tell Billy to fuck off forever.

His head is bald.

The cut is uneven, vicious. Almost like--

"Hey, pretty thing," Steve says. Everything's yellow from the Camaro's headlights, everything lies shattered in the grass around them. "Don't worry about it, she's upset."

Billy nods, the rest of him terrible and still.

Steve aches. He moves closer. "Baby. Do you want to come inside?"

"I didn't get to pack a bag," Billy says, like it matters, somehow.

It doesn't. "I have clothes you can wear," Steve tells him, padding closer, hands splayed as if approaching some sweet, terrified, rabid animal. “You know that you can have whatever you want, right? With me?”

Billy nods again, still unmoving. Still unseeing. "We're just staying until sunrise," Billy tells him, trained on the soft, fleshy landing of Steve's throat as it swings into view. "Just until it's light enough."

Billy's ear bleeds. Or. It did, at one point. Like someone came at him with a butcher's knife, swinging blindly but only getting his hair.

Steve has trouble remembering that the world isn’t burning around them

"It's just,” Billy tries, “It's not safe to drive when it's dark like this, y'know?"

"I know," Steve says. Billy's chest heaves like he's being chased, so. Steve nods. "Max is lucky to have someone like you. Someone who knows what they're doing."

"Right. So fucking lucky," Billy shakes his head, snorting bitterly. "Doesn't matter. Couple hours and we're gone, Harrington. I swear."

Steve reaches the car door, fiddling with its handle. Touching Billy without. Touching him. Testing the waters. "I'm not worried about it."

"You've probably never had to run from your fuckin’ house in the middle of the night," Billy tells him, finally looking at Steve but not. Seeing him. "This is the third time for me. First for Max."

Steve notices a black eye. A split lip.

Billy's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "I've never had to run," Steve tells him, because it's easiest to get the hard shit out of the way, first.

He wants to know about the other two times.

He wants to ask about California. If things were the same with his father there. If Billy's really going as soon as it's light out. If the blood in Max’s hair is her own, and how Billy would feel about Steve pressing his thumbs into Neil's eye sockets before the sun rises and Billy has the chance to run away.

Maybe. The proven death of this monster will change things.

Steve inches closer, instead, past the lip of the car door. He slips into Billy's space, grateful when Billy lets Steve touch his chest, checking for injuries.

"I could always go home, before," Billy says, eyes unfocused over Steve's shoulder when fingers prod at his ribcage, "But. I never had Max. I always had to go home to make sure she was gonna be okay without me, and then I'd be too scared to leave her behind so I’d just stay put until–"

"Does it hurt when I press down like this?"

Billy shakes his head, "Steve. She's sixteen--"

"What about here? Does this hurt?"

"She wouldn't stay," Billy looks at him, then, tracking whatever emotion breaks like a wave between them, "Neil started, and. It got bad, Steve. And she wouldn't fuckin' stay put like I told her to, and now. We have no place to--"

"--Is she hurt?"

"She's homeless," Billy says. Steve exhales through his nose, trying to keep up. "We're homeless. I made her homeless," Billy tells him, with rising panic.

Steve takes his hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"We don't have anywhere to live, Steve."

"Billy, look at me," Steve grabs his face gingerly, staring into his beautiful, shattered, empty eyes. "You live here with me, baby. We're here together and I'm not going to let anything happen to you, right? Yes?"

Billy blinks at him, coming back to himself. He nods. "Just until tomorrow, right? Until I can--"

“Sure, whatever,” Steve says, playing along if that's what will get him into the house.

The shower's running.

Billy won't let go of Steve's hand so they shuffle through the cramped living room together on plan b, stuck like paper dolls. Max has made up the couch, and already has the T.V. on, so Steve leads Billy to the bedroom, depositing him gingerly onto the unmade mattress.

“Sit still,” Steve tells him.

“I know,” Billy says, far away even as he strangles the blood from Steve’s wrist. “Max was right, you look like a dork.”

“I was asleep when you called,” Steve says thinly. “I thought you were running away.”

“I was.”

“Ah, truth comes out,” Steve ducks to retrieve a battered first aid kit from under the nightstand, because. This isn't the first time Billy's shown up in the middle of the night but it’s the worst shape Steve’s seen.

Steve swallows that, too, and struggles to get the fuckin' thing open with only one hand. He can't feel the other, Billy's holding on so tight, but Steve's not complaining.

He holds on just as tight. Just as hard. Wonders what counts as running off, in Billy's mind. If there are certain boxes Neil has to check to push Billy to that point, the 'running away and never coming back,' point, and Steve can't sift through his rampant emotions quick enough to discover what it means that all those times Billy stumbled through the dark and Steve found him, bruised and bleeding all over Mrs. Harrington’s imported Oak flooring, that wasn't the worst of it.

“You don’t need stitches,” Steve says.

“You’re a good nurse,” Billy says, wincing at the forward burn of isopropyl against his ear lobe, “You’re hot. Anyone ever tell you that, Harrington.”

Steve grins, “Once or twice, maybe.”

“Real dime,” Billy says, working to meld their pulses together until they’re one.

Steve swallows a lump in his throat, everything he feels for this boy rushing to sit like water in his lungs. “Almost done,” Steve says. Wondering how someone could hurt this boy, this spot of gold. This vial of sunlight.

Billy winks at him, even though it’s starting to swell shut. “Thanks, doc,” He says.

“Don’t mention it,” Steve tells him, instead of run.

Instead you should’ve been a thousand miles away, by now.

Instead of drag me along.

It's ten minutes after Billy disappears into the bathroom before Steve ventures out with his first aid kit clutched in the hand Billy wouldn't let go of.

His fingers are still numb.

Max sees him and the aid box and immediately snorts at, incredulous. "I'm fine, Harrington, you can put your Barbie band-aids away."

Landmine. "Sure.”

“And your rain boots. You look–”

“Stupid, I know,” Steve shuffles, put on edge by the soft click of the T.V. remote in Max’s hand. “I just. Billy said that you had blood in your hair, and I just wanted to--"

"--It was Billy's," Max tells him, eyes trained carefully on the flickering screen in front of her.

Steve knows Max well enough now to get that she needs to be comforted, probably. She's still a kid, she's sixteen, but he also knows that the truth needs to be coaxed out of her, dripping like saliva past her rows and rows of sharp, vicious teeth. Just like Bill--

"Stop fidgeting like that. You look fucking stupid," Max tells him.

Like Steve said. A piranha. A sixteen-year-old hammerhead shark. The shower's still going so Steve frowns, tucking his first aid kit onto the coffee table. "It’s not just the rain boots?”

“No,” Max says, “It’s the whole outfit. And your big, dumb, worried eyes.”

“I’m sorry. I give a shit about you, and he said you were running away because he hit--"

"Yeah, I know what he said, and he didn't hit him. Not hard enough to do anything," Max snorts, again, mean. "Jesus Christ, he's so dramatic."

Steve nods, and the movement pulls her in. Brings her claws out.

"You’re dramatic, too. You were made for each other.”

“Okay.”

“Dumb and soft and earnest,” Max shakes her head, disappointed in them both. “Billy isn't dad. He thinks it's his fault. It isn't."

She says, like. Steve's going to lose his fuckin' mind and argue. "I know."

"He always thinks everything's his fault, but it's not. That's the Drama Bitch in him. He's a prima donna grade-a loser asshole but he's a good guy and he's my brother--"

"--Max, maybe we should--"

"I'm not moving back to California without any money," Max tells him, eyes on fire. "I'm not. I have a life here, I won’t starve to death here, so you can run in there and tell your stupid boyfriend that I'm not going until–"

"Right. Yeah, I," Steve swallows against the lump in his throat, "Max, you've gotta know that I'm not trying to make you leave."

Max snorts.

"I'm serious," Steve tells her, shuffling forward, "Why the fuck would I want that?”

“Won’t have to pay for all your dates, anymore,” Max tells him, and.

Steve. Didn’t know she knew about that. Didn’t know they were close enough to talk about boys, but he guesses. That’s probably a stupid thing to believe when Max ran away to be with her brother.

She sneers at him, "You're such a loser,” She says, disgusted by his presence.

Lights Steve on fire. "Why?”

"Because,” Max takes a deep, steadying breath, her grip so vice-like on the remote that Steve worries it will shatter. “Because you’re gonna let us stay here.”

“I thought you weren’t on board for California,” Steve demands, embarrassed that he’s angry at a sixteen year old girl for running away from home.

“God, you think you’re the only one who’s holding on to someone?” Max chuckles but it’s not a laugh. It’s mean and raw and bleeding.

Steve nods, reeling, drowning, sinking, flying, swimming, sailing--

"I'm hungry," Max says, and turns back to the T.V.

Steve loves Billy so he makes him something to eat, something heavy and full of starch to sop up all the bad shit inside of him. It works, for the time.

Max has three bowls, even though potatoes count as a vegetable.

They cram together afterward, three sardines on the couch clear of blood. Patched. They watch some stupid fucking cartoon thing until Max falls asleep and Billy can hardly keep his eyes open.

Steve tugs him close, says, "Let's go to bed, honey," And Billy comes, too tired to be irritating and awful. ‘S almost too bad.

When they fold onto the mattress Billy slots into all of Steve's empty spaces, a perfect fit of expanding ribs and tickling eyelashes. Steve pets over the knobs of Billy's spine. He focuses on the warm landing of Billy's forehead where it holds steady against his jaw, burning because of blood and split skin.

Steve tacks lips to Billy’s shorn skull, his forehead, his left ear, and tries to imagine death dropping his scythe on Neil Hargrove's cranium somewhere across this sleepy town. Wonders when everything became an eye for an eye.

"We'll be out of your hair tomorrow," Billy's lashes flutter against Steve's pulse, body tense and coiled and waiting.

Steve pets over his ribcage, says, "Don't be stupid," because. Might as well call it what it is. Billy tries to pull back, to tuck away, but Steve holds on tighter. Stubborn. "Why do you want to run from me so bad?"

"Not you," Billy says. Cramped and muffled against Steve's collarbone, "Hawkins."

"It'll miss you. So will Max," Steve says, petting over Billy's thigh, now, relishing the rough drag of boxer briefs against his fingertips, "Said she's not leaving."

"When?"

"Told me while you were cleaning up."

"What a surprise," Billy reports flatly, "Who gives a shit. She doesn't have a choice."

"Tell her that.”

"She's going. No matter what I’ve gotta do.”

“What if she fights you on it?”

“Then one of us will have blood on our feet, again."

Steve hums, fiddling with the hem of Billy's boxer briefs. Slipping his fingers under the lip. "You try and put her in that car and it won’t even be a fight. You'll be dead before sunset."

Billy snorts, rocking both of them. “She’s scrappy but I’ve got fifty pounds on her.”

“Sure, just muscle and good intentions.” Steve’s fingers tangle in the thatch of hair at Billy’s pelvis. It’s soft and curly, little blonde ringlets that smell like rain water.

Billy sighs, tilting back when Steve inches upupup his shaft. "Stop trying to get in my pants, Harrington."

"You have something I want," Steve tells him. It's easy to find Billy's cockhead, blooming with springtime mist. Steve smooths it with his thumb. He grins at the noise Billy makes, ducks to nibble at that cut jawbone. “You won’t be able to sleep if you don’t relax.”

"Shit," Billy says intelligently.

"Want you inside me. Want your fingers."

"Fuck you, I'm grieving,” Billy grumbles, but he cranes his neck. Makes room between his legs.

"I could take your mind off it for a little while,” Steve says. He untangles himself, shucking the covers and laying on his stomach next to Billy’s thighs. He smells like the earth, fresh and moist. Steve tugs at his boxers, mouth-watering when Billy’s cock nods and the popcorn ceiling.

“Steve,” Billy protests, choking on a moan when Steve swallows him down, teeth knotted in the feather down at Billy’s pelvis. "Baby, Max is in the next room."

Steve comes up for air, kissing the freckle at Billy’s tip. "She's asleep."

"You're such a whore,” Billy glares sharply, “Is this how it's gonna be every goddamn night?"

And.

Suddenly Steve's heart swells, pushing against the cavern of his ribcage. He must smile, must press love and lightning into Billy's forehead when Steve clamors to his knees and pets over the bruise there, so happy the bed's about to blast out from under them.

"Stop making that stupid face," Billy snorts, dabbing the saliva on Steve’s chin, "Lookin' at me like I'm gonna--"

"I love you," Steve says.

Billy shifts, his cheeks blooming pink, “Just sayin’ that because my cock is out.”

“Maybe,” Steve teases. Can't help it; every goddamn thing about himself. He's stupid, and happy, and so, so heartbroken. He licks at Billy’s cockhead, heart thumping elation through his limbs. "You're really gonna stay with me?"

Billy shrugs, fiddling with the stretched-out neckline of Steve's t-shirt. "I don't know where else we could go."

"California."

"Max said she's not going, right?" Billy mumbles, "And. You've made it pretty clear that you wouldn't either."

“I never said that.”

“Don’t have to say it, it’s in your voice?”

Billy’s talking in circles, feeding his insecurities because that’s what he does when he’s on the verge of something else.

“Oh yeah? What’s in my actions?” Steve slips down the mattress again and sucks Billy to the root, bobbing his head and opening his throat in earnest, licking and swallowing until Billy soft little noises splat against the walls like wads of bubblegum.

Billy groans, knotting his fingers in Steve’s hair.

His roots sing. “I’d go anywhere you asked me to,” Steve points out before Billy can speak. Sounds. Like swallowing rocks is his favorite thing. “The problem is you never ask me to.”

Billy shrugs.

“Ask me.”

“Steve–”

Steve pulls himself out of Billy’s hold and sucks him down again, swallowing. Only comes up for air when Billy starts writhing beneath him. “Say it.”

“I–”

“Say, ‘Steve, come home with me to California, I’ll teach you how to surf, we can live on the ocean–’”

“Costs a fuckin’ fortune to live on the waterline,” Billy stutters, mouth falling open with a groan when Steve spits on his cock. Works up a rhythm with the palm of his hand just so he can watch the way Billy’s stomach tugs at the waistband of Steve’s lended boxers.

He’s only a little worried that Max might hear them.

Not enough to stop, not when Billy’s throat opens bit by bit, little wrecked noises barely reaching Steve across the valley of air between them. Through the shutter of the blinds, Billy’s skin glows. Stardust and bushels of flowering lilac in the shape of fingers and fists, sprouting and withering along his neck and cheek and jawline, breathing and dying over and over and over again.

Billy cranes to watch him, lips raw and red and open, tongue lulling.

Steve cracks and splinters at the sight, at his wits end, at the height of all he’s ever felt–

“What?” Billy asks, chest heaving.

Steve climbs on top of him, swallowing the shock that flutters from between Billy’s lips. His cock presses into Steve’s ass, slick head trapped by Steve’s layer of encasing, rough cotton. It fits perfectly, just like the rest of him, like they were made for this. Each other. Finding solace and rhythm in the tattered edges of the night.

Steve sucks on Billy’s tongue, deepening the kiss. His thighs shake, his hips roll down, startling the air from Steve’s lungs. Or Billy’s. Both.

“Baby,” He says. Or Billy does, “Baby, I–”

Steve pulls back enough to see the tears clinging stubbornly to Billy’s lashes, drops of stardust stranded in bright blue skies. He wipes them away with his thumb, pressing their lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

Chokes on a thousand things. What he could’ve said, on all those other nights. What he isn’t saying now. What he’ll have to stumble over tomorrow so that things can get started on a solid foundation–

It all, just. Dies.

Steve rolls his hips, “I love you,” He says, breaking like waves where Billy’s skin is the shore. “Let me make love to you.”

Because it’s all that matters.

Uncertainty flashes, bright as lightning, across Billy’s face, and then it’s gone. “Okay,” He says, “Alright.”

–

“I lied,” Steve tells him, to distract from the places they’re stuck together, the swatches where they’re bruised and cut and bleeding, “I tried to run away, once. When I was seven.”

Billy hums, his cheek warm and sticky over Steve’s rib cage. “Did you hear what I said?” Steve asks, chuckling, “Not gonna fall asleep, are you?”

“Thought you wanted me to relax.”

“I do.”

“Well, I am,” Billy tells him, “Your pussy’s magic–”

“Don’t say pussy when I’m talking about running away from home, that’s gross.” Steve yelps, wiggling when Billy’s teeth close around his nipple and tug. “Ow, shithead, this is important–”

“What, mommy and daddy didn’t get you the yacht you asked for for christmas so you ran away from home for twenty minutes?” Billy snaps, but there’s no heat. No fire.

“Not exactly,” Steve shrugs, rustling Billy’s head back onto his chest. “My grandma had come to stay with us for a while. She was sick. Dying, actually, but I was too young to notice. She never looked sick, she was constant. Still cooked dinner for us. Still holy-rolled until I cleaned my room. She took care of me.”

Billy’s arm tightens around Steve’s waist. Subtle and constant, too.

“When she finally passed on, I just. Didn’t want to be with my parents anymore,” Steve swallows, nearly strangling himself on the lump in his throat, “Look. They never hurt me, Billy, not like–”

“--We don’t have to talk about this–”

“--I know I could never understand, but. When my grandma stayed with us I felt love. I wasn’t alone, anymore, she was my family. And after she was gone I couldn’t go back to the way shit had been before she came to us, you know? I couldn’t be alone in that empty fucking house anymore, I had to leave.”

“But you didn’t?” Bill asks.

Steve holds him tighter. “I didn’t.”

Billy twists, chin poking Steve in the ribs but it doesn’t matter, when their eyes meet. Steve pets over his forehead, his eyelashes, savoring the plush of his cupid's bow. Vibrant and alive. Free.

“Beautiful,” Steve says. A fact. A name, “I understand why you have to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Billy leans into Steve’s touch, seeking his warmth. “We all need to run away, sometimes.”

“I could come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Billy says. He starts crying, soft as summer rain. Maybe he already was. Steve rubs at his cheeks, trying to catch them before they fall. “You’ve become the thing I run to, but–”

“--You don’t have to ask. It’s not some fuckin’ sacrifice, if you leave there’s nothing left. I don’t want to go home if you’re not there.” Steve says, and then waits, patiently re-counting the 297 freckles he knows form a village on Billy’s nose.

Billy thinks it over. Finally, he frowns. “So in this situation I’m like your grandma?”

Steve blinks, a laugh startled out of him, “What?”

“You said,” BIlly grumbles, brow furrowing, “You said that when she–”

“--I don’t want to fuck my grandma, that’s–”

“--God, you’re so annoying,” Billy rolls onto his back, jostling the mattress until all their blankets slither, ending tucked around him so Steve will freeze to death.

It’s so achingly usual. So soft.

“Baby,” Steve props himself on one below, chuckling when Billy rolls onto his side. Away. Steve pokes Billy’s shoulder, rocking him, “Hey, you goddamn brat, I was just—”

“--I didn’t mean that you want to fuck your grandma, you psycho, I meant. Like. You said that when she wasn’t home you couldn’t go back.”

Steve’s hand rests on the blanket between them. He feels like a naked, sparking bunch of wire. Thinks maybe he said too much, or didn’t say enough, and now Billy’s imagining himself as a stout Italian woman in a clementine shrug.

“She would’ve liked you,” Steve says finally. Billy peeks over his shoulder, scowling. Steve giggles at him, “It’s true!”

“She wouldn’t be disgusted that I’m a cocksucker?”

“No. She was a muff eater, when she was in her twenties,” Steve says casually, laughing when Billy spins and sits bolt upright next to him.

“Are you serious?”

“As the heart attack that killed my papa, who she never really loved,” Steve rights himself, shuffling until their legs are nestled together, until he can kiss and suck on Billy’s pulse.

“Stop that,” Billy says thinly.

“No.”

“You can’t just say that your dead lesbian grandma would like me.”

Steve licks at Billy’s earlobe, tasting blood and isopropyl, and the hiss of metal shears. “Why not?”

“Because,” Billy sighs, fingernails digging into Steve’s right and left kneecaps, “Because then I’ll want to stay with you forever.”

Steve pulls back, confused, “You don’t want to stay with me forever now?”

“You’re an idiot–”

“--Who loves you.”

“Such a dumbass–”

“--Who’s gonna work two extra jobs to get you and your sister to California,” Steve says. Hands topping Billy’s like stubborn barley thistle. Rooting him in place. “I’m gonna do it and you don’t even have to ask.”

Billy shakes his head.

Steve holds on tighter. “I’m serious. I’m gonna give you the world, even if it means we stay here for a while, until we can save up the money. Until it’s not dark out anymore, right?”

A hundred emotions struggle on Billy’s face, each one fighting for dominance. Finally, “Until daybreak?”

Steve nods. “Daylight.”

#harringrove #harringrove relay race #angst with a happy ending #hurt and comfort #listen #this was going to be something else entirely and then i ran out of time lol #more to come on that story soon!

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s1aywalker · 8 months ago

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꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ just fake it through the day and the night is your god. ꨄ

↷ ✩ —— video store clerk sam monroe headcanons. (sfw)

warnings: brief mention of weed, profane language (sorry i can't help it).

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who is admittedly terrible at his job. he lives by the philosophy of the customer is always wrong. but what he lacks in customer service skills, he makes up for in love of movies... especially horror.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who gets fired from the store what seems like every other week. whether it's because his drawer was suspiciously short, because he didn't show up, or because too many customers have called complaining about his poor attitude and how he smells like a skunk.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who rolls out of bed in the late afternoon to show up for his closing shift ten minutes late with his boots unlaced, still wearing his smeared eyeliner from the night before.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who soccer moms can't stand because he always has some splatter gore flick playing on the display television behind the counter. the snot nosed kids hug mommy's legs and hide their face in her back while they're checking out. meanwhile, she's shooting sam death glares and he seems oblivious. when really, he just doesn't give a fuck. she goes home with her bambi and spy kids tapes, and immediately makes a phone call to his manager... another tally on his shit list.

"all those bitchy moms are lucky," he mumbles to you while his fingers absentmindedly toy with the silver labret stabbed through his skin. but there's something playful, amused tugging crookedly on his lips as his gaze remains focused on the flickering television, while screams of terror crackled from speakers. "this isn't shit. if i wanted to traumatize their little brats, i'd put on maniac... i left my nametag at home, anyway." but, of course, it isn't difficult for the higher ups to piece together the puzzle.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who thinks it's fucking hilarious to recommend the worst selections imaginable to customers that won't know what hit 'em. another reason for him to be fired, honestly. he sees a teen lingering a little too long in the horror section and when they ask for something that'll scare their friends this weekend... according to his manager, faces of death was not the correct answer.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe whose favorite customer is you.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who always makes it a point to come out from behind his throne that is the checkout counter every time you come in. he wants to bug you, to breathe down your neck to see what you're going to rent because he's nosey and too impatient to find out what it'll be whenever you decide to bring your handful of selections to the front. and he wants to throw out his own recommendations, too, while he straightens out a nearby shelf.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who can go on for hours about movies when he's talking to you. he's very strongly opinionated... to a fault, honestly. because he won't bite his tongue when you examine a tape he's seen and didn't like, or when you bring up enjoying some new horror flick that, in his mind, has nothing compared to a good gory classic. he'll argue with you on it, and remain firm on his stance, with a mouth that seems and sounds mean, but it's never really directed towards you.

"the grudge fucking sucked, don't you dare get that." he snorted, snatching the new release out of your hands with more aggression than necessary. it's shoved back into its slot as he begins scanning over the neatly organized shelf labeled horror, a black painted nail dragging along spines for something specific. "they americanized it for no goddamn reason... here." the search was over as he pulled out the haunting japanese cover of ju-on. "watch the original... and call me if you piss your pants."

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who only pretends to be annoyed when you come in ten til close with no reason other than to keep him company during the deserted hour. he says you should have just called him to hang after he clocked out, but really, he's glad you're there, because he's seen the movie he has on at least six times.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who stands behind the counter while you're propped up on the surface during a lull, security cameras be damned. he was supposed to have mopped the bathroom and locked the doors by now... but mouths keep running and laughter becomes louder than the shitty movie that has now been forgotten and reduced to background noise with a chilling soundtrack.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who is inching closer to your perched position and closing the gap with a bag of sour gummy worms in his hands that he says the store won't notice missing. the plastic corner is ripped open with his teeth to share and it's a bribe, a ploy to get you to stay longer.

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ sam monroe who finally convinces you to rent the evil dead trilogy. it's one of his favorites, and of course he's going to suggest you make a marathon out of it, with him tagging along for the blood soaked journey. he promises to bring your favorite candies and the popcorn with extra butter, and he promises to not talk through them... but he accidentally grabs the regular popcorn instead, and he can't help but go on and on about every single fun fact about the series that pops into his head while he gradually scoots closer.

#꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ch: sam monroe.#꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ alyssa writes.#꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ alyssa edits.#im actually writing a whole Thing i promise but! headcanons first!#spicy ones next xo.#sam monroe #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #hayden christensen

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hawkinsbnbg · 1 year ago

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‪Steve was such an embodiment of a golden retriever that Eddie could hardly hate him even when his Munson Doctrine said otherwise.‬

‪Once Eddie got to know him better, he knew he was done for.‬

‪The guy wasn't only a pretty face and fine muscles, he was also kind and a goddamn sweetheart.‬

‪And Eddie? He was a sucker for Steve Harrington. ‬

‪Had been since high school and never thought he could fall any deeper until Dustin literally force introduced him to Steve who took one look at him and invited him to his house.‬

‪As if they were good friends and not two strangers who had just talked to each other for the first time.‬

‪"We actually talked once before all of this," said Steve absentmindedly as they were chilling out on the lounge chairs by the pool.

‪Sometimes, the night breeze would sail past them and Eddie would be able to smell Steve's citrus cologne mix with the chlorine that came from the pool. ‬

‪Also, he'd never admit that the sight of Steve in that white snug T and those stupid tiny green shorts made him a little bit dizzy.‬

‪"When?" Eddie was bewildered. Because if he had interacted with Steve, then he sure as hell he'd remember it for the rest of his life.‬

‪"On my first year," Steve gave him a meaningful look. "You seemed to hate me a lot the moment we met so I didn't try to approach you anymore."

‪Eddie remembered it now. That day, Steve had come to buy from him but since he didn't sell to underages, he decided to scare the younger boy away and then forgot all about it once he returned to his trailer.

‪Turned out, his tactic worked a little bit too well and now, Eddie finally understood why Steve never came to him and it was always Tommy or Carol's brother instead.‬

‪"Thanks for that anyway," said Steve quietly.‬

‪"For what?" Eddie frowned slightly in confusion.‬

‪"For denying me the weeds," Steve gave him a warm smile. "I had been goaded to buy them from you but now thinking back, I'm glad that I didn't get them. Because I knew the moment I went back with a bag of weeds, those people would encourage me to buy drugs next. It'd go on until they got me addicted and my life would be much more different if I was sent into rehab by my father."‬

‪Though Eddie knew this was what he hoped his little conscience would do to those teenagers, he still didn't expect Steve Harrington of all people to thank him for it.‬

‪And he didn't expect his heart to leap into Steve's hand without his consent, either.‬

‪"It's nothing," Eddie cleared his throat slightly and picked up his beer bottle so he'd have something to do instead of flailing his hands around like an idiot. "It's just one of my rules that I don't sell to underages."‬

‪"And thanks to you, many guys like me can have a better life," Steve raised his beer into the air. "Cheers for Eddie Munson."‬

‪Eddie though blushed at the lovely smile Steve sent him, still held up his bottle and clinked it with Steve's.‬

‪After that night, they started hanging out together more often. Sometimes, it'd be at Steve's place, and some other times, it'd be in Eddie's bedroom at the Munson trailer.

‪Steve even chatted with Wayne about basketball, on which Eddie would never in his wildest dream expect to walk in when he returned from a gig one late night.‬

‪Gradually, it became their thing to spend time together whenever they could.‬

‪Yet, Eddie didn't dare to consider them as anything but friends.‬

‪Sure, they hung out all the time in each other's bedroom, they shared forehead kisses and cuddles, they brushed each other's hair, and they even lived in each other's wardrobe.‬

‪But, clearly, Steve was as straight as a ruler and Eddie wouldn't ruin their friendship just because of his stupid feelings.‬

‪So Eddie did what he thought was the best. He tried to move on.‬

‪But he had failed the moment a random girl walked up to Steve and started flirting with him.‬

‪An ugly thing reared its head inside Eddie and caused him to see Red.‬

‪He just stormed over and pulled Steve away from that girl, out of the bar, and into the back of his van without much thought for the consequences.‬

‪Fuck the consequences. Because Steve was his and his alone. Anyone could fuck off.‬

‪"Eds? Did something happen? Are you okay?" Steve looked at him in concern.‬

‪That got an amused huff out of Eddie. Of course, his sweetheart would worry about everyone but himself.‬

‪"No, I'm okay," he took in a deep breath to calm down. Then, he met those hazel eyes and decided to be honest for once. "I was just jealous."‬

‪"Of who?" Steve’s brows pinched in bafflement.‬

‪"Of that girl," Eddie licked his dry lips and watched Steve's gaze flick down to them before meeting his eyes again.‬

‪"Why?"‬

‪"Why?" Eddie parroted back before giving out the answer that had been locked inside him for years. "Because I like you, Steve."‬

‪"Oh," Steve breathed out.‬

‪"Yeah," Eddie snorted bitterly and braced himself for the imminent heartbreak. ‬

‪He waited for Steve to either turn him down gently or punch him in the face for taking advantage of their friendship for his greed and selfishness.‬

‪He knew Steve would never do that. But it'd hurt far worse if Steve got upset enough with him to resort to pure violence.‬

‪Instead, all Steve did was ask with a raised eyebrow, "So are you gonna kiss me now or do I need to do it first?"‬

‪Eddie didn't need to be told twice to cup Steve's face and lock their lips together.‬

‪This could be another good dream for all he cared.‬

‪For now, Eddie didn't want to drown himself in yet another existential crisis until he was done making out with his darling.‬

‪Until they stumbled into Steve's bed, until Eddie was permitted to do everything to the other man, including blowing his back out that he knew it wasn't a dream. Because Eddie never made it this far in his dreams before.‬

‪"So are we boyfriends now?" Eddie asked again just to make sure as he cuddled and shared lazy kisses with an adorably sleepy Steve.‬

‪"Mhm," Steve hummed under his breath, all rosy cheeks and blissed out.‬

‪"Just so you know," Eddie traced his forefinger on the soft outline of Steve's chin. "You're gonna be stuck with me for a very long time and even if you try to kick me away, I'd find a way to get back to you."‬

‪"That sounds perfect to me," Steve yawned and snuggled up to him.‬

‪"Yeah?" Eddie tightened his arms around Steve.‬

‪"Uh-huh," Steve planted a small kiss on his jaw. "We're in this together now. And you're gonna see how clingy I am very soon. Just don't regret it, Munson."‬

‪"I'd never, sweetheart," Eddie whispered back and gave his lovely boyfriend another smooch on his forehead.‬

‪As Eddie slowly drifted off, he just knew he was the world's happiest and luckiest man to have Steve in his life.

‪And that was a blessing he'd never take for granted.‬

#steddie #idiots in love #possessive eddie munson #steve harrington is a sweetheart #steddie fluff #ficlet #sionewrites

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pixthefuckup · 1 month ago

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things that happened to me that i think hatchetfield teens would experience

richie: got chosen as a throwaway member for a sports team in gym and ended up being the goalie. i had an entire sports anime arc with these guys (the captain learned how to develop and delegate better, the strikers were foils of each other with one learning to be more smooth while the other learned to be more aggressive, the midfielder realized that he was super important and his good stamina wasn't the only reason he got the role, and i learned to stop doubting myself, how to use all my experience to realize flaws in the other team, and go for it) we were literally a thrown together team because the captain just wanted the role for more credit. we somehow won the entire tournament.

ruth: im in a theatre group that makes its own original play through january to february. now, the plays are always hitting and they're incredibly. but... each time i improvised a random filler line, it ended up getting stuck in the show no matter how bad it was. i was performing night after night the same shitty "we're friends! friends are supposed to tell each other things!" because i couldn't figure out how to start an argument weeks ago and nobody could either apparently. i mean, i apparently got laughs but i couldn't hear shit over the rushing embarrassment in my ears. i can commit to the bit but not without internally dying ig

either side of potseed: i got high once in a park surrounded by theatre kids and instead of being chill or dazed, like i imagined, i started yapping about dante's inferno and fanfiction, their connections to each other, and then their connections to the veil and reaching past human life to things unable to be held but yet taken as precious things to be obsessed over and analyzed. mind you, it sounded incoherent af because i was high. this was also my first time getting high (if this sounds familiar and you follow me NO IT DOESN'T HAHAHA I NEVER USED THIS EXPERIENCE FOR ANOTHER FANDOM) steph: had a 10 minute compilation of me tweaking out over essays i did not give a single fuck about until deadline day (all the videos were in timelapse) bc i thought it was funny (i eventually deleted it for storage but im sure i can recreate it this year since it's my junior year) pete: i once managed to get the tea about my entire middle school hierarchy and secret dynamics because i had been sat at the table of two popular kids who didn't notice me. so while they were gossiping, i was sitting there, quietly doing math and also listening in. i was a goddamn master at multitasking. ziggs: me and my friend were trying to get weed so we followed a stranger who promised to lead us to a shop where he would buy the weed for us (dumb idea i know). instead, we got a bunch of lies about his backstory, an entire lecture on buying weed a certain way, and then he guilttripped me. thankfully, my friend got us out. we ran back to our group and we lied to them about all the shops being closed because it was too crazy and too embarrassing to admit what actually happened. hannah: my family has weird psychic experiences. it's really long to explain in detail but essentially: my grandaunt could hear ghosts and have dreams convening with spirits as well. my mom could have odd dreams and convene with people, whether overseas or dead. my brother used to see ghosts and predict the future. short example: he once told my dad their airplane home would break down. he was right. he forgot his experiences and abilities as he grew up. (the lex to my hannah fr fr) as for me, i could see past demons and had weird companions to warn me. the story's a bit long when properly told but tl:dr: white bear tried warning me of demon dad, i didn't listen, had to try and see past demon dad to get to real one. demon dad was standing in front of regular dad. i manage to walk through demon dad (freezing btw) and hug regular dad. white bear sees this as i go back to sleep on the pull out couch with dad, thumbs up.

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meiyudo · 1 year ago

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Linecook Anakin HCs pt 2

pt one

HELLO once again i am back with more ani hcs… i have a multitude of ideas like a never ending flow so if u all want more lmk :)

warnings: cursing, ani is a typical horny young adult, smoking; weed, cut?

Sometimes he wears a black bandana to hold his hair back and…. Fuck, its hot

Wears a black hat sometimes too

One time he forgot to bring something to pull his hair back so he embarrassingly had to use someone’s neon scrunchie- he was not thrilled

The type of guy to douse himself in cologne before shift so he smells “good” for longer (plus he thinks you'll like it)

He definitely looks on the schedule app to see what day’s you’re working

Happily surprised when he sees you walk into the kitchen when he knew you weren’t scheduled.

Walks up to you when you’re clocking in; tosses his rag over his shoulder and leans up against the wall beside you.

“Hey beautiful, I didn’t think you were scheduled”

“Nah, I picked up Hera’s shift, wanted some extra money”

He clicked his tongue and smiled, “Ahh, I think you just missed me, you could have just texted me princess”

“In your dreams Skywalker”

Lots of “fuck’s” and “goddamn’s” when he accidently burns himself on the grill or oven.

When he cuts himself while preparing the meat or veggies, make sure to clean it out and put a brightly colored bandaid (he keeps them in his pockets) on it… mostly because he wants you to notice he injured himself.

“What happened Anakin?”

“Oh, nothing- I just was cutting too quick- it kinda hurts tho…wanna kiss it better for me?” he comments with a smirk

“Ughhh, I guess” you roll your eyes and indulge him.

He gets pissy when the other waitresses aren't running the food in the window because it backs up his workspace and he cant put out new orders

“Hands to the front!” he yells, as he checks the screen for the incoming orders

No one answers, he looks around and sees the waitress doing side work and getting drinks, but not running his food. what the fuck?!

A part of him is frustrated that you aren’t backing him up, but then he realizes you're not even in the kitchen.

You walk in and see the window is still full; “Guys! Can I get some hands to the window?! I can’t run all of your food plus mine and serve my tables all at the same time” you say loudly.

You stand by the window handing the plates to the new line of waitresses who are now ready to work so they don’t get yelled at later

“Alright, let's get these out quick! I know its rush but Anakin cant put up the new orders if these don't go out”

He smiled to himself, you’re not only helping him out, but you also care about him being able to do his work too.

Once everything is out and things have calmed down he thanks you

“I appreciate it, princess”

“No worries, I was just sick of running everyone’s shit by myself” you sigh

“You’re doin great” he smiles

One time you were on vacation for two weeks and he thought he would die

He flirted with other waitresses but it wasn't the same

The day you came back to work he was surprised to see you- he had forgotten to check who was working

“Hey y/n!”

His ears perk up at your co-worker’s sing-songy voice.

“Hey Rose” you reply.

You walk into the kitchen; your skin has a noticeable beach tan and he can see a small hit of your bikini line by your collarbone (and ofc that goes straight to his dick- good thing he’s wearing an apron)

“Hey Ani” you say, walking past the kitchen to put your purse in the back.

“Hey beautiful”

Throughout the shift he can't help but watch you breeze through the kitchen like you never left.

Your radiant smile enchants him, making it hard for him to concentrate on the orders coming in.

Definitely curses out new cooks when they mess up too much during rush

Anakin hates when the manager assigns him trainees- he doesn’t wanna come to work and have some idiot mess up his flow by following him all over creation

He gets this new guy and already doesn’t like him because he’s way too talkative

When the new guy finally starts on his own, he starts trying to get the know the waitresses: He talks about this TV show with Hera, exchanges jokes with Rose, banters with Ahsoka, but he doesn’t really talk to you; not that you care, work is for work- you don’t need to make friends with everyone.

Deep down Anakin is kind of glad he doesn’t try to talk to you (he gets a weird vibe from the new guy)

On 4/20 he brought a bong and all of the cooks and him hit it in the back before shift.

Everyone thought it was gonna be a disaster, but surprisingly all the cooks were more on top of orders than usual; half of them got really focused on getting stuff right, others just relaxed, and then there was the few who thought everything was hilarious

The restroom is in the front house where the guests sit, so when the cooks need a break they have to walk through the restaurant.

Sometimes you’ll see anakin come from the back; apron off, messy hair, and his cleaning rag looped on his belt.

But what you also see is a multitude of customers watching hungrily as he walks by.

For some reason that stirs something in you… annoyance? Or maybe it's jealousy?

He really is too hot to be working in the back of a restaurant- his face alone would make much more doing something more appearance based.

But what you don’t know is that he thinks the same exact thing about you.

Anakin walks back in from a smoke break and hears the “new” guy talking about a certain waitress he seems to like.

“Yea, y/n? she’s bangin’, like fine af. Y’all don’t understand how hard imma hit that when I get the chance”

Anakin’s eye twitches at the disrespectful description of your body and who tf did this guy think he was? There’s no way you’d even entertain him.

He’s two steps away from taking this guy out back and kicking his ass.

“Woah, woah man. That might not be the best idea” Rex, another cook, says.

“Yea, dude. Y/n is basically Skywalker��s girl… and I wouldn’t wanna mess with him when it comes to her” Cody offers.

Anakin saunters from around the corner, acting like he wasn't listening and the conversation subsides.

Later walks up to the new guy and grips his shoulder uncomfortably hard; “Yea, the guys are right- I would advise you stay away from y/n and I swear- If I ever hear you making crude comments about her again- you’ll be meeting me out back”

Anakin pats his back and continues on- safe to say he never talks about you again

Scrolls on dating apps that he never actually utilizes when he gets home from a closing shift and finds you- he sits up and focus on all of his attention on your profile

Suddenly bro’s a super spy because he’s analyzing everything- your bio, your likes, what you're looking for, your preferences, your music taste.

He taps through your pics and his eyes widen as he sees you in clothes other than just work ones… and maker- you are gorgeous.

His sweatpants feel a little tighter as he scans over a pic of you from your beach vacation- he recognizes the bikini by the tan he saw in you earlier in the month.

His hands tremble just a little as he decides if he should swipe right or just let it go.

In a moment of bravery he swipes right- now he’ll show up in your feed to judge-

“Match”

What?

The screen flashes pink and the words “match” are plastered across the top

That means that you saw his profile first and swiped right… what does this mean for work tmr??

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sunwarmed-ash · 5 months ago

Text

WIP Thursday/[Sinful Sunday post??]

hey so im gonna be taking time off writing for another job all next week so I'm posting this so you have something to read. DONT WORRY Sinful Sunday will continue, I'll just be busy this sunday and next making that capitalist coin!

This may turn into a fic, it may not. I wrote it right after I finished QAF for the 36th time.

Tags: Angsty steddiegrove, sex work, HIV+ character, violence

"Where do you go at night?"

Steve and Eddie are lying on Steve’s bed smoking weed when Steve asks the question that will inevitably change the course of their relationship, their future, forever.

"What," Eddie asks, trying and failing for aloof. He thought he had been so careful.

“You sneak out, every night. Where do you go, when you leave?"

Lying is the only probable next course of action. If he wants to keep Steve in his life that is. The truth will sever everything they once had.

“Dealing doesn’t exactly fit a normal 9-5," Eddie says. It’s a half-lie.

"You were selling drugs in Lafayette at 3 in the morning? Do you think I’m stupid," Steve snaps.

Eddie’s entire body flashes hot with the amount of detail in that accusation.

"What? No! Wait, how did you- hang on, have you been spying on me?"

"Answer the question Eddie!"

Eddie feels cornered, and that’s never a good place for him to be. Because when he feels trapped, he lies, and he can’t stop. He will say anything to cover his ass, even if its just to survive to see another minute.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you..."

Steve scoffs at Eddie’s attempt at self ownership.

"Why can’t you tell me, Eddie? I mean, after everything we’ve been through!”

Eddie bites into his tongue. He wishes it was that easy. God, does he wish it could be that simple...

“i can't, not with everything baby. I'm sorry.”

“Why not?” Steve demands and now he’s angry. His eyes are lined with tears and Eddie can feel the beginning of the end coming like an approaching storm.

“Because you won't love me anymore.”

It’s the truth. And Eddie hates to even hear the words out loud. Because its gonna hurt so bad to hear it twice. From Steve’s lips. The soundbite will live with him for eternity.

“Isn't that for me to decide,” Steve objects.

“You've already decided.”

Eddie remembers the shit Harrington pulled on Wheeler when she hurt his frail male ego by just existing in the same space as another man. He remembers the hateful way Steve spits the word ‘whore’ because he associates it with his father and all of his sins. It’s how everyone says the word. Like its poison in their mouth.

Slut. Hooker. Whore. But that's what Eddie is. Until he can find something that pays better. Because he has to eat. He and Wayne won’t survive an Indiana winter without heat. And after Eddie was banished and then half-heartedly rewelcome into a unstable healing community, no one in Hawkins treats him the same. Weed sales have dried up. No one wants to hire him for any job. Not even the mechanic shop down the street that is desperately understaffed and Eddie is overqualified for. So what the hell else is he supposed to do? Wayne just turned 68. He shouldn’t need to work 12 hour shifts just to barely support the kid he didn't ask for in the first place. Eddie never should have been his burden. So this is Eddie’s way of giving back. Pulling his own weight so he didn't feel so much like a goddamn freeloader all the time. But could Steve understand that? Steve wasn’t stupid, but he also wasn’t, lets say as morally flexible as some other people.

"I can't- do this Eddie... If you’re going to lie to me." Steve says and one look into his eyes and Eddie feels what's left of the tie between them sever.

"I'm not lying," He insists but its a half truth at best.

"You're not telling me everything, that counts," Steve all but shouts.

"You don't tell me everything."

He referring to whatever the hell went on between Hargrove and him two years ago. Eddie and Steve arent the only people different after an apocalypse. Their previous heated rivalry has all but burned out. So has Hargroves own personal brand of anger. They move around each other like chess pieces, always conscious of the others movement to limit interactions at school. But after school? Eddie’s seen Billy’s camero parked at Harrington’s more than it's parked in the trailer park.

"That's different Eddie,” Steve huffs, scoffs as he pushes his hair back. “and you know it."

"How, how is it different Steve?" Eddie’s never brought it up before tonight. Eddie’s never been one for exclusivity, why the hell should he expect Steve to be?

"It doesn't involve you, or us. This does."

"Right,” Eddie scoffs, “Well, for argument's sake, it is safer for you not to know. For both of us."

Steve is silent for three beats too long.

Here it comes.

Eddie can’t look at him. His face goes numb before the words can hit his ears.

"Then you have my answer Eddie.”

It still hits him like a slap in the face. Steve’s done with him. And it hurts so much more than he anticipated it would.

Eddie knew it was only a matter of time. He knew what Steve wanted in the end, and it was still someone more like Wheeler. A sweetheart. A family. Nothing Eddie can guarantee. Eddie doesn’t have much to say in his defense. So he doesn’t.

"I'm sorry Eddie,” Steve, obviously uncomfortable in the silence, speaks again. “This is just, too much for me right now.”

"Okay,” comes out of Eddie’s numb mouth, even if it's the complete opposite.

Eddie knew a clean break now would eventually be better than enduring their relationship fizzling out slowly. But it doesn't mean the inevitable failure of one more relationship doesn't hurt.

-two months later-

“Munson?”

Eddie blinks, of all the people to find him, here, he didn't think it would be Californian transplant, and fellow trailer trash bad boy Billy Hargrove from Hawkins. He just wants to disappear into the pavement.

Eddie’s feet move to sprint, but Billy’s lighting reflexes catch him before he can.

“Where the hell are you going now, Eddie?”

Eddie rips away from him. He hates the way his name sounds out loud. He hadn’t felt like ‘Eddie’ in weeks. He’s barely felt like anything. More like Nothing and no one. A nameless face in a sea of sex workers, businessmen, and bar patrons that he cycled through every day.

“It’s none of your damn business,” Eddie spits, though it doesn't have much venom. He doesn't have the energy. He's sick, he’s cold, and he’s so fucking tired. He still has two more clients he can’t blow off tonight if he wants to have a prayer at ever getting unburied under his last hospital bill. Billy Hargrove and Hawkins and all that past shit is his lowest priority.

“People are worried man,” Billy says, stopping Eddie from taking more than a step away. “Wayne especially. Don't you give a shit about him?”

Now Eddie is pissed, because who the fuck did Billy Hargrove think he was, telling him about what he should do? Talking to him about Wayne. As if he understood a goddamn thing about their lives! His anger flairs up his cough that only aggravates the pneumonia-scarred tissue and then Eddie’s coughing so hard it nearly knocks him over.

When Billy moves close to ‘help’ Eddie slaps him off.

“Everything I’m doing is for him! You don’t fucking know shit, Billy! How could you, you're just a kid!”

And while Billy was 17 and Eddie was 6 months into his 23rd lap around the earth, he felt so much older. His tragic sequence of life events had aged him decades. He’d be lucky to make it to 24 at this rate.

Billy watches him curiously, putting together pieces Eddie doesnt mean him to.

“Why did you take off Eddie?”

“Why do you care?” Eddie doesn’t really think it's concern he sees in Billy's features.

“Wayne doesn't have anyone else. You scared the shit out of him when you left.”

“Oh and what, you two are bffs now,” Eddie asks bitterly.

Billy shrugged.

“We've been spending a lot of time together, yeah.”

Eddie scoffs wetly. Fantastic. Now even Wayne has his own Eddie replacement. A better, nicer son. If Wayne didn’t need him anymore, well, he didn’t have any more ties back to Hawkins. He should be relieved, but instead he just feels empty. Forgotten. Unwanted. Billy had said people missed him, but the only name he offered up was Wayne’s.

Eddie sniffs up the tears threatening to spill and reaches into his jacket. He takes out the seven hundred dollars and change he’s managed to squirrel away after his last AZT prescription refill and holds it out to Billy.

“What is this?” Billy looks at the wad like its poisoned, and well, he's not entirely wrong, it's certainly dirty money. But its still green. And that’s all the world runs on. And speaking of money, the man he was currently scheduled to suck off is honking at him from across the parking lot, eyeing Billy with violent intent. Eddie needed to move quick before this escalated.

“I’m not coming back. T-To Hawkins, I mean. I can’t, so I need you to give this to Wayne for me. Can I trust you to get it to him?”

Billy finally takes the money, counts it, and then his jaw drops.

“There’s over seven hundred dollars here Eddie.”

“I know,” Eddie sighs dejectedly. “It should have been more but,” but you got stupid and believed some pretty, coked-up twink instead of following your gut. And now you get to live with the weight of that decision, forever… “It doesn’t matter. Just, please make sure he gets it. It should cover the next few payments on the trailer.”

Billy looks at him for a long time.

“What the hell have you been doing Munson?”

Eddie scoffs before the car horn across the street blares loud, startling him right out of his skin.

“Nothing you want to know about. Just please make sure he gets it, and knows, I’m sorry. For all of it.”

Billy’s eyes lower suspiciously.

“Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Eddie shrugs.

“Because it has to be.” Eddie can’t feel anything below his neck anymore. The honk is starting up again. He’s really pushing his luck now.

“Eddie, come on,” Hargrove begs and why does it sound like he’s actually pleading? Billy’s never had a nice word to say to him or Steve. And now he’s gone for what, a few weeks, and his enemy wants to become best friends? He doesn’t understand this plotline. He’s ready to get out of it.

“I’m gotta go, Billy. Please, look out for Wayne.”

Eddie leaves the very next minute and sprints across the street, just narrowly avoiding being hit by the semi that blasts his horn.

#like i said i may turn it into something more #its been in my drafts for like a year #steddiegrove #i have a little more written so lmk if you want more ill rb with it #metalsandwich #steddilly #harringroveson #eddie munson angst #steddie #angst #billy hargrove #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #find me on ao3 #sunwarmed ash #i post new stuff every sunday #sinful sunday #links in pinned

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