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steddieas-shegoes · 2 days

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i wanna be your sin

for @subeddieweek day five with the prompts rimming and possessive steve

rated e | 2,473 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one: ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr Day three: ao3 | tumblr Day four: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

If being friends with Steve was easy, being loved by him was a piece of cake.

It would probably scare someone else, the way Steve loved. He gave everything, more than what Eddie felt he deserved. It was overwhelming at times, to be the focal point of all of Steve’s affection.

He showed up at Eddie’s house with flowers before their first date. And their second. And for their third, he brought him homemade cookies.

Fucking homemade cookies.

And every single time, he acted like it brightened his day to be able to provide these things to Eddie. Like if he couldn’t bring him flowers or cookies or kiss him or hold him, he’d crumble into a million pieces and cease to exist.

It was easy to love him back, too.

To play with his fingers in the car and lean his head on his shoulder, to get lost in the time they spent together until Wayne was opening the door to the trailer with his knowing smile and wave as Steve just waved back from his spot on the couch holding Eddie’s hand.

They weren’t stupid, though.

Their dates were usually places where two young guys could be caught hanging out without drawing suspicion, even if those two guys happened to be Eddie and Steve. If it wasn’t the diner or the bowling alley, or even the record store Steve had taken him to on their first date, they were in secret hiding spots around Hawkins, spending every moment they could giving in to temptation.

But sometimes they ventured outside their comfort zone.

Steve was Dustin’s chauffeur from Hellfire Club since his mom’s promotion that led her to working much later during the week.

They hadn’t exactly told anyone about what they were to each other, had barely even mentioned they were friends to anyone other than Robin, but Steve was insistent that no one would think anything if he just…hung out during Hellfire.

Eddie didn’t really have the heart to tell him that every single person in the room would be highly suspicious of anyone being allowed to stay and watch as Eddie had always been incredibly protective of their space and never let anyone watch who wasn’t inducted into Hellfire.

Steve sat in the corner of the room, only receiving a few concerned looks from the group at first. Most of the confusion was directed at Eddie.

When they took their usual five minute bathroom break, Gareth pulled him aside and questioned him.

“Dude. The hell.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Harrington? I know he’s Dustin’s second mom or whatever, but is it really necessary for him to be here? Doesn’t he have a job or something?” Gareth glanced over at Steve, who was looking back at both of them with a fire in his eyes.

Eddie ignored the way that look made him feel and crossed his arms over his chest, raising a brow at Gareth.

“Isn’t the point of Hellfire to welcome the lost sheep? No judgment?”

“Yeah, but-”

“And wouldn’t you think it rude to assume Steve doesn’t deserve to have some friends?”

“But he-”

“Everything okay over here?” Steve’s voice was right next to Eddie’s ear, and his hand was on his hip, squeezing.

Eddie’s mouth snapped closed, eyes widening as he watched Gareth’s gaze drop to where Steve was touching him and back up to Eddie’s face.

“Yeah, man. Just checking in on our friend, here,” Gareth gave Steve a fake smile before turning and walking away.

Steve’s hand didn’t drop and Eddie was certain that if he didn’t move in the next 10 seconds, they’d have a lot of explaining to do that Steve probably wasn’t ready for.

“Was he bothering you?” Steve asked, his face a mask of friendliness.

“Gareth? My best friend for three years? He always bothers me, but it’s nothing like that.” Eddie tapped Steve’s hand as a reminder that he should probably move it, but he just tightened his grip. “Um, you okay?”

Steve’s breath was warm against his jaw as he leaned in close to whisper in Eddie’s ear. “I’m great, sweet boy.”

The reaction was instant. And really fucking inconvenient.

Hearing those words from Steve now, when he still had an hour of a campaign to run, with children making their way back to the table, was enough to make him call it all off.

Fuck Hellfire. He needed Steve to fuck him.

Steve patted his ass twice before walking away, smiling to himself as he went back to his seat to watch Eddie deal with this sudden need to have Steve.

And then he just…carried on. Like it was nothing to have Steve’s hand on him one minute, his voice against his ear, and then go back to being the big, bad DM the next. He was a pretty good actor, but even he had his limits when Steve’s eyes were on him.

Even he could tell he was a little off after the break, and the knowing looks from Gareth and confused looks from the rest of them just emphasized how much he needed to get his shit together. This was his best campaign ever, and he knew he needed to roll into Christmas break with a cliffhanger that made everyone desperate to get back.

Steve watched the clock, then looked at Eddie, watching him fondly, but with a certain hunger in his eyes that was nowhere near appropriate for others to see.

“And as you crawl your way under the fence, mud and sweat coating your skin, you see a faint light coming towards you from a distance. Your entire group freezes and waits to see if you’ve been found. You breathe slowly, just enough to not pass out. The light gets closer.” Eddie stands from his chair, leaning over the table to blow out the candle. “The candle goes out. A voice yells down to you. ‘Come at once or die.’”

Eddie sits back in his chair and folds his hand across his stomach, waiting for the table to catch up that he was done.

“That can’t be it!” Lucas yelled.

“Eddie, you said you weren’t gonna end it on a cliffhanger!” Mike pouted.

“I never said such a thing and if I ever did, you should’ve known I was lying.” Eddie stood again, folding his DM notes up and picking up his personal minifigures to store in his bag. “We’ll pick up the first week back in the new year. Everyone go home and enjoy Christmas because there’s a chance some of you may perish on your journey here.”

Everyone grumbled except for Gareth, who was oddly quiet as they all cleaned up their own character sheets and minifigures. He kept glancing between Steve and Eddie, brows furrowed, like if he concentrated hard enough, something would make more sense to him.

Steve stood as the older kids filed out, driving themselves home or hitching rides with each other. Nancy was already outside waiting for Mike and Lucas, so they rushed out of the room, barely saying goodbye.

Dustin didn’t seem to notice or care that Steve and Eddie were staring at each other, that Eddie’s hands were practically shaking with anticipation for what was coming. Hopefully, he would be.

“Oh, mom told me to tell you that she made extra of that casserole you like so you can bring some back home with you when you drop me off,” he said as he finished packing up his bag.

“Sounds good, dude,” Steve said, not taking his eyes from Eddie.

Eddie could feel his face flushing, wondered how he could get Steve out of there before he did something stupid like kiss him in front of their shared child.

“You guys gonna kill each other or make out?” Dustin asked, not really looking at either of them, standing by the door to leave. “If you’re done, I have a curfew to make whether my mom’s home or not.”

Steve tossed Dustin his keys. “Wait for me. I’ll just be a minute. And I’ll know if you try to start her. Passenger seat only.”

Dustin knew better than to argue when it came to Steve’s car, so he nodded once and booked it from the room.

The moment they heard the main door to the auditorium slam shut, Steve was on him, pushing him back in his seat and looming over him with a deadly smile.

Eddie’s cock was straining against his jeans, rubbing against the zipper in a way that felt too good for him to be in public, especially when he knew Steve wasn’t gonna do anything about it.

“Unbutton your pants.”

Steve’s tone was cool, but Eddie knew him well enough to hear how much he was struggling to maintain composure.

What had he done to make Steve want him like this? Now?

“Here?” Eddie asked, looking around the room.

Steve’s hand cupped his jaw and turned it back to face him.

“Here.”

Eddie knew when to be a brat and now was not it.

He unbuttoned his pants with shaking hands, letting his cock feel a single moment of relief before Steve’s grip around it was rough, nearly too hard to feel good.

“Pull them down.”

“Steve-”

“Now. Unless you wanna stop. You know what to say if you do.”

Obviously, Eddie wasn’t going to stop. He trusted Steve, he trusted that Steve would never put him in any danger, and if Steve felt safe enough to do this here and now, then Eddie could let him have what he needed.

Eddie tugged his pants and boxers down to his thighs. He ignored the twinge in his back at the uncomfortable angle, focusing on Steve’s eyes on him, his teeth digging into his bottom lip as he watched Eddie fumble.

“Turn around. On your knees.”

Eddie turned around, got on his knees.

“Lean forward.”

Eddie leaned forward.

Steve dropped to his knees and gripped Eddie’s hips. His nose brushed against the tail of his spine, breath leaving pinpricks of moisture behind. Or was that sweat? Had it gotten hotter in here?

“What if Dustin comes back in?”

“He won’t. He never has free access to my car.” Steve’s lips brushed against his skin, and Eddie realized just before it happened what Steve’s plan was.

Steve’s tongue trailed down the crack of his ass, hot and wet, spit mixing with the beginnings of sweat from his two hours of excitement. He’d showered that morning, but that morning was a long time ago.

He tried not to tense his body or pull away, but Steve noticed everything.

“Eds, color.” Steve was giving him enough space to think, to concentrate on an answer. They weren’t really playing in that space, but it was an easy way for Eddie to figure out if he actually wanted to keep going regardless of them taking on their roles or him floating into space.

“Um. Yellow,” he admitted quietly. He so rarely said anything besides green, and usually only when he was incredibly overwhelmed, so Steve immediately stood up and walked in front of him.

“What’s got you worried, love?” Steve cupped his face in his hands, making him forget momentarily that his bare ass was out for anyone to walk in and see.

“I’m not really clean? And, um, I don’t really know if I can get off with just that in only a few minutes,” Eddie didn’t break eye contact. He knew Steve liked when he looked at him while he talked through this stuff. It made him proud.

“Oh, sweet boy. I don’t need you to smell like roses to wanna get my mouth all over you,” Steve kissed his forehead. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, we can continue it later once you’ve showered. Or not at all. But I will say I had no intention of getting you off here.”

“But. You were gonna eat me out?”

“Yeah for a couple minutes. Get you worked up. Remind you that you belong to me, that you’re mine no matter who else gets to share your time.”

Steve was going to torture him, then. Why was that making him sweat more?

“You’re mine, baby. I get to make you feel good because it’s my job to take care of you.”

“Green.”

“Relax, sweet boy. I’ve got you.”

Eddie knew he did, so he let his forehead fall, resting against his arms folded over the back of his fake throne. There was something to be said about being worshiped here, something about being on his knees while holding all the power, but he was already too distracted by Steve’s hands pulling his cheeks apart to lick at his entrance to care.

Steve was good with his mouth and it was all too easy to get lost in the feeling of his tongue circling him, pushing past his rim every few swipes and making him rush to stifle a moan.

Just when Eddie started to feel like he needed a hand on him, Steve’s tongue disappeared.

Eddie shivered.

Steve’s hand ran up and down his back, but no other touch came, no words of comfort.

Eddie could hear rolling thunder in the distance and remembered Wayne saying something about getting home before it was supposed to storm tonight.

Might be too late for that now.

He could blame Steve.

Steve pulled his hand away and tugged his pants up for him, nearly knocking him over in his haste to get them in place and buttoned.

“Be good for me, sweet boy. I want you to finish up here and get home before it starts raining. I’ll be there when I drop Dustin off to take care of you,” Steve kissed his temple and started walking away.

“Wait!” Eddie got off the chair and rushed over to Steve, doing his best to ignore the wet, slippery feeling that Steve left behind. “Wayne’s gonna be home by midnight. You won’t be long?”

Steve shook his head, coming back to give him a quick peck on the lips. “Just gotta run in and make sure he heats up his dinner or he’ll forget. I’ll head straight over after that. Promise.”

Eddie nodded and watched as Steve walked out the door.

Thunder rolled again, still far enough away for him to be able to get to his van and get home.

He rushed through shutting off the lights, only leaving the security light on for the janitor when they got there first thing in the morning, throwing his bag over his shoulder and running to his van.

It was dark, but Eddie could still see the heavy clouds rolling in.

He unlocked his van, hopped into the driver’s seat, and turned the key.

Nothing.

He tried again.

Nothing.

Raindrops fell on the windshield and Eddie felt like crying.

Day six: ao3 | tumblr

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #sub eddie week #sub eddie munson #dom steve harrington #possessive steve harrington

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toxicanonymity · 3 months

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being bad and looking good.

2.8k, raider!Joel (dark) x f!reader | Raider Master SUMMARY: You look hot but get punished for acting up. WARNINGS: I8+ dubcon unsafe P in V, possessive Joel, creampie, manhandling, angst, joel makes you cry, rough, spanking, choking. He's a bad guy, not a kink practitioner: no rules. He cares, and you enjoy the dique, but you're captive. A/N: HYPOTHETICAL because I didn't want to figure out where to place it in the timeline. Set vaguely in the past. This is for a lingerie ask as well as readers who have requested feral/mad Joel or sweet pea being bad. @javier-penas-wifexx420 @arcanefox207 IMMERSABILITY: Reader has hair that can be held/pulled. Joel can lift reader. Reader has no height/size, so fill in the blanks for whether he has to bend his knees to enter you, etc.

Joel lets it slip how close the abandoned mall is, and you can't stop thinking about going there. You want to get something for him. He always brings you things and you never have anything to give him other than food you've foraged and flowers for the trailer. One day, you insist it would be fine with Joel if you go to the mall. You make it sound like you've discussed it. Carter is skeptical, but he feels bad for you. He finally breaks down and agrees to take you.

When you're there, you're walking through the mall and notice Carter's head turn all the way toward a particular storefront as you walk by. You wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. He keeps the same stride, but you slow down to look.

It's a lingerie store. Most of the mannequins are bare or have clothes hanging off them, but there are huge, fading posters with women of all shapes and sizes sporting lace teddies, babydolls, bralettes, strappy garters, and the floor is littered with them.

Carter sighs when he realizes you've stopped at the store.

As he slowly walks back to you, scratching the back of his neck, you ask, “Do you think Joel would like it if I had something from here?” The question feels almost rhetorical, but there's that bit of insecurity, too.

“Uh, I dunno. Sure, I guess.” Carter doesn't seem comfortable. He agrees to let you go in for just a minute to see if you find something, but you have to stay in view. And you think you do. It's a two piece with a sheer, strappy top. The bottom is more modest than a thong, but it has a slit in the crotch that makes you clench your thighs together thinking about Joel.

—-

When you get home, you put it on in the bathroom so you can look at yourself in the mirror. You think it looks good, but it's not a full-length view. And you're not quite sure if it's fitting right. How much tit is supposed to be showing? How tight should it be? You put the flannel back on, but leave it open when you come out. You feel a little more covered than you are, since the nature of the fabric shows a lot.

Carter's sitting at the kitchen table casually shuffling a deck of cards. He looks at you for only a split second before his face hardens, and he abruptly looks away. “Jesus,” he drops the cards on the table, and the chair groans against the floor as he stands up. “The hell are ya doin’?” he awkwardly turns around, pulling up on his pants a little.

“I just wanna know if it looks-”

“--'m sure it looks great,” Carter runs his hands through his hair in distress as he looks out the window. Then, he tightly crosses his arms, and they stretch his sleeves even more. “Now get outta here,” he tells you. He rocks forward onto his toes, then back, waiting for you to leave.

Is he mad? You step further into the kitchen and try to meet his eyes in the reflection.

His voice is stern. “Go put some goddamn clothes on.”

“Sorry, I wasn't–”

“Now.” He means it. You stand there stunned for a moment with your lip quivering. He's never been angry at you before.

“NOW.” He points toward Joel's room, veins bulging on his hand and arm. He doesn't turn around to look at you, but you see the flush from his cheeks creeping onto his neck and ears.

You go to your room and sniffle as you button the flannel. Then you put on a pair of shorts, curl up on the bed, and cry.

–

After a few minutes, there's a soft knock on the bedroom door. “Ya’okay?”

You only sniffle, “I'm sorry,” in response.

Carter sighs. “I shouldn'ta snapped at ya, darlin’. But ya just – can't do that, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Shit, you're a pretty girl, okay? But it ain't my business how ya look. . .in somethin’ like that.”

“. . .I know, I wasn't thinking.”

“Now, if you're dressed and wanna play rummy, I’ll deal. . .”

You smile to yourself through your tears.

—--

You dry your eyes and come out to the kitchen, but something in the air is different as you pull out a chair and sit down.

“Carter, please forget it,” you plead and try to get him to look at you. It feels like you broke something.

He finally makes eye contact and forces a little smile. Then he concentrates on the cards as he deals. “Two, two, three, three,” he counts the cards out loud for each of you as he deals. He finishes, and while you're studying the hand you’re dealt, it's quiet. In the corner of your eye, Carter's gaze falls to your now fully-covered chest, but he quickly pulls his eyes away and looks straight down, fidgeting with his cards. You feel awful. What if he can’t look at you the same? It was stupid to try to show him. Of course it would look good to Joel, he likes everything on (and off) you.

______

When Joel gets home, you're in the bedroom alone, sitting on the bed in the lingerie and flannel. As he enters through the kitchen, his boots are heavy on the linoleum. Your heart races with a moment of doubt - how are you going to explain this? But he bursts in the room grumbling, “goddamn Harold, tryin’ to get us all killed.” He takes his shirt off over his back, tosses it to the laundry, and looks at you. He pauses and devours the view for a few seconds before he slowly approaches, chest heaving.

He looms over you as you sit on the bed. He uses both hands to nudge the flannel off your shoulders, and it pools behind you. You take your arms out of it. He grabs a tit and rests his other hand on the nape of your neck, thumb brushing the curve of your skull. His chest lets out a low growl as he feels you. Then his fingers trail up the strap on one shoulder. He plucks it and it snaps against your skin.

Joel’s face darkens as he asks, “Where’d it come from?” When you don’t answer fast enough, his hand traces up your throat. A chill spreads across your chest. His thumb brushes the side of your neck, then slides over to lift your chin and make you look at him. “Where.”

“I wanted to do something you’d like.”

“Where,” he repeats, then clenches his jaw, waiting.

“You said the mall wasn’t far, so–”

He raises his voice. “You went to the mall? Where was Carter?”

“It’s okay, he was there, even found a part for the van in the parking lot.”

Joel’s nostrils flare, and he grips your jaw. “Carter took you to the mall.”

Your eyes water with panic. “No, it wasn’t his idea--”

“To buy somethin’ like this.”

“I wanted to get you something. I didn’t know they had this stuff —”

“He's got no business takin’ ya anywhere. And sure as hell not somewhere sexy.”

You're worried for Carter and grateful he’s not around. “I swore the mall was okay, that you wouldn’t mind. I didn’t know there was somewhere sexy,” your voice trails off.

Joel shakes his head, nostrils flaring. “You don't say what's okay. You don't KNOW what's okay. Get up.”

He forces you to your feet then turns you around.

“I thought you'd like it,” you sniffle. “You always do things for me.”

“He grabs your ass, lifting your butt cheek and lets it drop. He clicks his tongue. “well, I sure don't like how ya got it.”

“I'm sorry”

“Think ya need a reminder who's in charge here.”

“I know,” you sniffle in agreement, sensing what's coming. He sits down on the bed and manhandles you into lying face down over his knees. You feel a twinge of arousal even before he shifts your position and your hip brushes the hard shape in his jeans.

You hold your breath as he brings his hand back, then it lands with a sting and you yelp at the force. You bury your mouth in your arm as he brings his hand back again. He repeats it on the other cheek and you let out a muffled whimper that sounds more aroused than you should be.

“Like bein’ bad?” He asks, then spanks you again.

“No.”

His hand lands with a sting one more time and stays on your skin to grab the plush of your burning skin. “Ya like this?”

“. . .I dunno,” you whimper, unsure of the right answer.

He feels between your legs, his thick finger finding a damp slit in the cotton crotch of the lacy underwear. He slips a finger inside the garment, giving you a shock of need when his knuckle nudges your dripping hole. “Ya do, don't ya? Get up.” He grabs your arm and stands up, forcing you to your feet. He holds your hair and stares you down sternly. “This ain't for fun, baby, it's your safety” He lets go of your hair and looms closer. “Understand?”

You nod and reflexively back up. Something tells you it's not just about your safety.

“AND Carter's. You tryin' to make me hurt’m?” He asks. Joel gets closer and you keep backing up toward the wall.

“No,” you sob. “Please don't. He’s good, so good, he wouldn't even look at me. He respects you so much”

A new rage flashes across Joel's face and he lowers his voice. “He wouldn't . . .even . . .look at ya,” he mutters too calmly for your comfort. He takes a deep breath, looks you up and down again, puts his hand on your chest, fingers spread wide, and walks you harshly into the wall. His bare chest heaves. ”But ya gave him the chance, didn't ya,” Joel nods. You've dug your hole so much deeper.

“I was only thinking about–” Joel’s hand comes to your neck as you croak out, “--you.” You don't know what you were thinking. Joel doesn't either. He slowly shakes his head, nostrils flaring.

He pins you with his hips, and his hard cock digs into your front, making you gush.

“Forget who ya belong to?”

“No,” you whimper. “I’m yours.”

He pulls his hips back and quickly unfastens his pants. You bite your lip to keep from moaning at the sight of his cock. It nudges under the bottom hem of the lingerie top to reach your body. You feel his skin hit your lower belly, and it makes you weak with desire. “Only wanna be yours.”

He kicks your feet apart to spread your legs, and he brings his lips to your hair. “Then ya do what I say. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” you whisper, then he shoves his hand between your legs, using two fingers to spread the slit in the fabric of the crotch.

“‘s’for your own good,” he adds.

He nudges the slit with his cockhead. The fabric doesn’t open wide enough, so he rips the slit more, then you feel his tip at your wet little hole. He holds his cock in line, then grabs your ass and shoves up into you all at once, bottoming out. The force makes your back and shoulders drag up the wall. With your feet now off the ground, your knees bend, cradling his hips. He holds you by your ass, adjusts your weight, and your back is against the wall. You balance your arms around his neck. His thick cock retreats then punches into you again.

He's so thick, each time he pushes in, it feels like he’s taking up your whole body. He’s not looking at you; he’s looking past you. The grip of his fingers hurts enough to feel good, to feel his desperation, how much he has to have you–for him and only him.

He grunts and growls and breathes heavily, stomach heaving against you. “You're mine, sweet pea.”

“I am,” you agree.

“No one else can have ya.” His words get broken with the force of his thrusts. “No one else can see ya.”

“I know.”

You moan as he buries his length in you roughly, and he mutters “goddamn,” tightening his grip on your ass. You’re overwhelmed by the fullness of his cock, his skin against yours, his breath in your hair, his body pinning you there. All of it makes your insides swell with mounting pleasure.

“I love being yours,” you pant.

He fucks you in relative silence for about two minutes, the room filled only with the sounds of his brutish grunts and unbridled sighs, your little moans and whimpers, and the squelch of his stiff cock pumping in and out of your dripping cunt.

He adjusts your weight and looks down at your body from time to time, letting your upper back rest against the wall as he rails into you. You’re reassured that he likes the fit, at least. Your legs wrap loosely around him.

The pressure in your lower belly builds with each grunt, each thrust of his cock. Soon, his breath becomes shaky and the drag of his cock quickens. Then he bottoms out sharply with a groan, drawing a sigh from you as he begins to pulse. He thrusts into you slower, more controlled, and you rock slowly against the wall. The rhythmic swell of his shaft within your walls and the warm seed spilling from his tip make you clench around him. You moan his name, tighten your legs, and he sighs as your cunt chokes his cock.

When his balls are empty, he slides out, and the fabric pulls with his cock as he withdraws and lets you down to the floor.

—-

Joel sighs, crams his wet cock into his pants, and fastens them again.

“You okay?” He asks, catching his breath.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “Where are you going?”

“Gonna pay Carter a visit, down at the house.”

“Please, Joel, it was all my fault,” you beg. “Don’t do it.”

“Ain’t gonna kill’m. This time.” You still don’t like the look on his face.

You follow him across the room, reach for his arm, and your fingers land lightly on his inner elbow. He pauses, still without his shirt on, and looks down at your hand on his elbow. He turns around, reads your face, then goes over to the bed without a word. He sits and manspreads. “I was desperate to make you happy,” you plead, fidgeting with the hem of your top.

Joel scrunches his face. “Ya do make me happy, sweet pea.”

“He didn't even wanna take me,” you insist.

“Then he’s gotta learn to say no.”

You hesitantly come closer, unsure if he’ll turn you away, but he lets you between his legs, then you sit on his thigh and keep fidgeting with the hem of your top.

“He says no all the time,” you assure Joel.

“Does he,” Joel mutters skeptically.

“I made it like he would've been saying no to you.”

Joel shakes his head, looking at your mouth. “That ain't right, but he knows better, baby.”

“He yelled at me,” you offer, hoping it doesn't make things worse.

Joel's brow furrows and his tone sharpens. “Ya gotta stop lyin’, now. It's pissin’ me off.”

“I'm not! He was mad.”

“Oh yeah? What'd he yell?”

“Told me to go away and put on some clothes.”

Joel’s chin lifts to look at the ceiling and he takes a deep breath, then looks at you. “What the hell got into ya, huh?”

“I dunno,” you mumble. “Feel like I'm going crazy, stuck here all day.” Joel looks at you. “But you take good care of me,” you clarify, “and I love it here.”

But that’s not what Joel’s thinking about.

“Wanna fuck him? Suck his dick?”

“No!” You're on the verge of tears again. “God, Joel, please don't talk like that.” Your face is scrunched up in pain.

“Then don't act like it.”

“I was–okay, I get it.”

Joel is quiet for a few seconds, then asks, “What if I told ya to suck his dick?”

“No!”

“You'd say no to me?”

“I’d ask if I really have to.”

Joel's face slowly softens, like you found the only acceptable answer. “And why’s that?”

“Cause I only want yours.”

“Hm,” Joel nods.

“Please, Joel. Stay here, don't go to him. . .you can talk to him tomorrow.”

You put your arms around Joel's neck and study his pensive face. Then you bury your head in his neck and whisper “Sorry.” His hand slowly comes to your back. You dip your head and lightly brush your lips against his collar bone, then return your face under his jaw, and he nestles his head over yours. Your wet lashes blink against his skin, and his hand slowly slides on your back. Somehow, it feels like more comfort than you deserve.

“Ok, baby,” he whispers and wraps both arms around you.

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if you wanna know whether Carter sees sweet pea that way, check out he's only human.

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Their present-day story will continue, but I don't have an ETA, sorry. Unless the next one gets split up, it'll have fluff, two moods of smut, angst.

I appreciate all your comments that let me know what you enjoy and what curiosities you have. Thank you so much for reading, and thanks for your support. Love you all.

tag list - : @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou @gab-thelamb-onthemoon

#dark!joel miller #joel miller x reader #cw dubcon #raider!joel miller #joel miller smut #raider!carter #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel #pedro pascal characters #possessive!joel miller

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lesservillain · 2 months

Text

eddie munson x best friend!reader

summary: a previous request I had to write eddie and a weird girl!reader. edited just a tad for better flow.

cw: none

Eddie watched as you picked up another rock, examining it carefully in your hand before tossing it towards the lake. The two of you had been out here at Lover’s Lake for close to 2 hours now, skipping the rest of the school day after you'd asked him to bring you here during lunch.

The boys laughed at him for how easy it was for you to get him to do anything. But Eddie only gave them the finger as he trailed behind you out of the school. You never asked him for much, so who was he to deny you?

You and Eddie had known each other since he moved to the trailer park to live with Wayne. The two of you fell in and out of friendship over the years as you both went through the motions of life that got you to where you were today.

Sometimes you two were inseparable, and other times you kept to yourself. Choosing to be alone for weeks or months on end until you would knock on his trailer door like you'd just seen him yesterday. Many deemed you weird for your antisocial behaviors, including your own mother. But, Eddie knew you would come back around eventually, and he always welcomed you back with open arms.

With his legs dangling out the back door of his van, he brought a newly lit cigarette in his mouth to chase the joint he had just finished as he watched you do…whatever thing you needed to get out of your system today. He should have known you were going to want to spend the day outside with the overcast that had been looming. You hated the heat from the sun, preferring the shield of the clouds to cover you while you look for different bug or flowers or whatever you deemed worthy to be picked from the ground.

“Oh, Eddie!” Your excited voice had him jolting straight up, greeted by the site of your bright smile before him. “Look! This one’s got a fossil in it!”

Eddie opens his hand for you to place the rock in it. Your discovery stays hidden until you pull your hand away from his. And, sure as shit, there’s a print of some old ass plant or something on the side of the little rock.

“Woah, that's fucking cool,” he says, matching your energy for your find. He hands it back to you and you hold it in both hands, face beaming at your discovery. Eddie likes it when you get like this. The pure, unadulterated bliss that beams from you feels like it could cheer him up on his deathbed.

But after a moment, your expression falters. A crack in the joy of the moment that Eddie clocks right away.

“What?” He asks, looking at you even though he knows you wont give him eye contact back.

“Eddie, why do you hang out with me?”

Eddie reels back. It’s not the first time you’ve dropped heavy questions on him before, but he wasn’t expecting you to hit him with that one.

It was one he wasn't sure how to answer. Mostly because the answer was complicated.

Why was he your friend? Why did he like having you around? Why did it kill him when you distance yourself from him?

Okay, maybe the answer wasn't really that complicated. Rather, admitting it was.

Because the truth is that Eddie is completely head over heels for you.

Ever since he’s known you he knew you were it for him. You never thought that he was a freak for having a dead mom and a jail bird dad. Never judged him for being poor even for trailer park standards. Certainly never made any remarks about his music tastes.

He hadn't always been subtle about his feelings, telling you when you were younger that he would marry you someday. He still gets a kick when he thinks about the way your nose scrunched up at the suggestion.

He would pester you any chance he could, and Wayne had to tell him to not be so forward or else he was going to scare you off. Little did Wayne know that it would take a hell of a lot more than Eddie’s strong personally to push you away. He eventually realized how well you could meet Eddie’s energy, calling the two of you a match made for trouble.

Because Eddie loves when you would barge into his room without knocking to show him a painting you’ve finished. Or when you would tap on his window at 3 am because you couldn’t sleep, knowing he was probably still awake too.

He loved when you would join the Hellfire Club at lunch, telling Grant to move so you could sit next to Eddie’s spot at the end of the table. He loved that you wanted to be around him, and he wanted to be around you just as much.

“Because we’re friends,” he says casually. Your eyes lift to meet his. He can’t tell you how he feels. He can’t risk giving you a reason to run away from him. “It’s been like, what, 10 years now since we started hanging out? Why do you want to know now?”

Your eyes shift down, avoiding eye contact with him once again. You must be worried about something he thinks. He wishes he could read minds just to see what you’re thinking.

“I was just wondering," you say in a tone that tells Eddie you were not just wondering. "Don’t want you to think you’re obligated to hang out with me or anything.”

“What?” He shakes his head incredulously, laughing at the absurdity of your assumption. “I don’t feel obligated. I like hanging out with you. Promise.”

He sticks his pinky out for you to twist with yours, something you’ve been doing since he pinky-promised to be your friend when the other kids said you were too weird.

But you don’t accept it, crossing your arms over your chest and curling in on yourself. Your boot shifts as you nervously roll a rock under your heel. It’s quiet for a moment, and Eddie drops his hand slowly, not liking the way the air is shifting around the two of you.

Something feels off. Final.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to hang out anymore, Eddie,” you say matter of factually.

Forced. He can tell you’re putting on a front, like the one you put on for your mom. He wonders if she’s got something to do with this.

Eddie’s throat feels dry, breathing in through his nose to keep himself together.

“I don’t know why you would think that. Did I do something—”

“No,” you cut him off, looking at him in the eyes for a few seconds before averting your gaze again. “It’s not you Eddie. I just…”

Eddie stares at you with his big brown eyes hoping you’ll give him something, anything to try and fix whatever has you feeling this way.

“Don’t you want a girlfriend?”

Well that was the last thing he expected you to say.

“I’m sorry, what?” He blinks up at you, confused at where this conversation is going. You take a sharp breath through your nose, and huff, brows pinching as you become visibly upset.

“Well you and Jeff and Gareth were talking about how hot the cheerleaders uniforms are, and — and you said that if you had a chance you’d like to see what's under their skirts—“

“Okay, hold on, I didn’t say that,” he says defensively, but you give him a look that makes him back track. “Or, even if I did, I only said it because it was Gareth and Jeff. I didn’t really mean it.”

“I’m not mad that you said it, Eddie. I just," you breath in, a slight hitch in your throat as you do. "…I hear what those girls say about me…about us and…I just feel like…I—I,” you sniffle, “I don’t want to be the reason you can’t get a girlfriend.”

Eddie tries so, so hard not to laugh. Like, he’s really trying to hold it in because you’re clearly very upset. But he can’t suppress wide grin that slowly creeps across his face.

“Sweetheart,” he finally says, “You don’t really think that do you?”

Your only response is a silent nod and Eddie’s heart only grows more for you.

“Trust me, you’re not why I don’t have a girlfriend,” he says with a tone of self-deprecation. It’s not the full truth, because technically you are the reason, just not in the way you think. “Those cheerleaders wouldn’t want me whether you’re around me or not. And it’s not like there’s a line of girls dying to date me or whatever.”

He twists his rings around his fingers, waiting for your response. When he looks up, you’re looking at him like he’s got three heads.

“What?” He laughs.

“Are you joking?” You ask him very seriously.

“Joking about what…?”

“That you don’t have girls trying to, you know, get with you…”

“Oh, no, definitely not.”

A smile finally cracks on your face at his words, and an immediate relief washes over him. The tension in your body visibly washes away and you take a step closer to him.

“Okay,” you say with a soft smile.

“Can I ask why you’re so worried about me getting a girlfriend anyway?”

“Well, my mom said—“

He raises his hand, stopping you mid sentence, “That’s all I needed to hear.”

It warms his heart when you laugh, melting all the worries away. Though, he still can’t help feeling like he could lose you forever at any given moment. It would gut him if you really did decide that he couldn’t be in your life anymore. He already gets sick at the thought of you meeting someone else, someone other than him, and moving on to leave him in the dust.

“Why do you hang out with me?”

He likes the way your eyebrows shoot up when he turns your question back on you. He thinks that he’s got you just as flustered as you had him, but you look at him with a shake of the head as you speak very matter of factly.

“Because I love you.”

Eddie has to catch himself before he can get too excited. This is you that he’s dealing with here. And you could mean that in so many ways; as a friend, a brother, a lover. And, god, did he hope you mean the ladder.

“Love me how?” He asks carefully, trying his best not to sound to excited.

“Like…well, sometimes, when you do stuff that’s, like, really cute or makes me happy, I just want to—“ You bring your hands to his face, something you’ve done many times over the years when he’s going on about D&D or music or even just when he’s reading. He always assumed it was your way of expressing that he was being a bother or overstimulating you, so he would usually stop or change the subject. “—just grab you and kiss you.”

Eddie knows his face has to be as red as a tomato. His heart is going a million miles a minute and he can barely keep his breathing steady.

Holy shit is this happening?

“You want to kiss me?”

You nod, “Yeah, like, a lot.”

“Why haven’t you?”

Your eyes practically bug out of your head, dumbstruck at his words.

“I can do that?”

“Please?” It comes out breathy, meant to be a joke, but almost as a beg.

And so you do. Your soft, mint chapstick covered lips hastily meet his, head tilted ever so slightly so your noses don’t bump as if you’ve done this before. Have you done this before? Certainly not with him. It makes his blood boil thinking that someone other than him has ever gotten a chance to do this with you.

The feeling of your fingers gliding across his scalp, nails skimming in a way that sends goosebumps down his arms. He takes the opportunity to bring his own hands to your hips, pulling you closer to him to deepen the kiss.

When you finally pull away, Eddie leans in to chase after you. And when he finally opens his eyes, he feels sick—lovesick at the sight of your pleased smile. The way you’re looking at him with a sparkle in your eye makes him feel like he could do anything.

“Wow,” you say between the two of you.

“Likewise,” he says with an airy chuckle.

“Can I do it again?” You ask shyly.

“Sweetheart, you can kiss me whenever you want,” he says dreamily.

“Really?”

He hums in response, cut off with a hmph as your lips meet his again.

And again.

thank you for reading.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #best friend!eddie munson #best friend!eddie munson x reader #best friend!eddie munson x best friend!reader #eddie munson x weird girl!reader #eddie munson x wg!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson st #eddie munson blurb

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sparkle-fiend · 1 year

Text

Eddie is six years old, the first time he hears the voice.

It wakes him with a jolt – sends him tearing through the house, searching under every bed and behind every door for the boy he hears calling his name.

Mama finally stops him. “Sweetheart, what did you lose this time?” (Eddie is always losing things.) She looks impatient, standing with a laundry basket balanced on one cocked hip, curly hair spilling out of the messy bun on top of her head.

“I heard somebody saying my name! I gotta find him, I think he’s hiding.”

Mama’s whole attitude changes, all at once. She sets the laundry aside and drops to her knees in front of him, squeezing his little hands between her own. “Oh baby. That voice means you’ve got a soulmate!”

She smiles bright as the suncatcher hanging in the window, and presses sloppy kisses all over his face until he screams with laughter, squirming to get away.

“My lucky, special boy!”

Eddie’s never been lucky before. It’s exciting.

———

In school, they learn all about soulmates. About how rare they are. Uncle Wayne is the only other person Eddie knows that has one.

When he found out about Uncle Wayne’s soulmate, Eddie was so excited – bubbling full of questions, like a bottle of fizzy pop. But whenever he tried to talk about it, his dad got real mad.

“You keep your mouth shut about soulmates,” he said. “Don’t talk about that shit in front of your uncle.”

It’s hard. Eddie starts staying over at Uncle Wayne’s trailer more and more when Mama gets sick. And Eddie’s never been good at following rules; especially when he’s curious about something.

“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie finally asks one day. “Where’s your soulmate? How come I’ve never seen her?” You have met her right? is what Eddie’s really asking. He can’t imagine waiting until he’s as old as Uncle Wayne to find his soulmate.

His uncle goes sort of brittle, tensing up like every joint is made of glass. His lips press together behind his beard, and his denim blue eyes go shiny and wet – like he’s trying not to cry.

If Eddie could take the question back, he would. Suck it right back into his mouth, like the smoke from his uncle’s cigarettes. This is why you gotta listen better baby – that’s what his Mama would probably say.

“My Lorretta died a few years ago. Before you were born.”

Eddie never considered that. In all the movies, soulmates die together. The thought of it leaves a queasy feeling squirming through his stomach.

“I still hear her though,” Uncle Wayne says, with a terribly soft look in his eyes. “Still hear her singing our song.”

“Like a memory?” Eddie whispers.

His uncle shakes his head. “Time don’t matter for soulmates – no more than distance. I can hear her still, across the years.”

Like a ghost, his uncle doesn’t say. A ghost that will haunt him forever. None of the dry textbooks in school ever mentioned that part.

It starts to worry Eddie. As he gets older, his soulmate’s voice starts to get clearer. He always hears the same thing – a desperate, grown-up voice screaming at him to “Run Eddie! RUN!!!”

It must be from the future. But his soulmate sounds so scared. What could possibly happen, to make his soulmate sound like that?

Eddie starts to listen to music more. Loud, heavy stuff to drown out the frightened voice.

Late at night, he curls up under the covers and softly sings his Mama’s favorite song – hoping that somewhere, somewhen, his soulmate will hear him.

That it might help, the way it helps Eddie when Mama sings him to sleep.

———

Eddie is twelve years old, the first time he really listens to the voice.

Mama's been dead two years, and his dad keeps pulling riskier and riskier jobs. Tonight, he's decided to try and break into the pawn shop on Fifth street.

Eddie is the lookout, stationed on the opposite corner with a pistol weighing heavy in the pocket of his coat (just in case, Ed).

He doesn't want to be here. He tried to argue with his dad. Said, "I've got a test tomorrow. I've got homework and..." and I hate this life. (He doesn't say that part.) I don't want to steal cars or break into buildings or mug people. I don't want to be like you.

His dad just gripped him by the arm hard enough to bruise, and said, "You like to eat, dont'cha? Well, lookouts get to eat. Lazy little shits don't."

So Eddie is standing on a street corner in the middle of the night, watching his dad furtively attempt to pick the lock on the front door of the pawn shop, when a cop car slows down at the end of the street.

Fear floods his bloodstream so fast it leaves him dizzy. The cop has clearly noticed something. Eddie can see the shadowed figure inside the car reach for his radio.

Eddie has two choices.

He could pull the pistol out of his pocket and fire a few shots down the street, forcing the cop to take cover long enough for his dad to get away (which is what his dad would expect him to do). Or he could...

"Run!"

The sudden loud voice, echoing between his ears and behind his eyes and inside his heart, startles him into flinching.

"Run Eddie, RUN!!!" His body obeys before his brain has a chance to process the words. He's halfway down the street when the siren shrieks to life.

Later, as he sits in the backseat of the social worker's car on the way to his Uncle Wayne, he can't quite believe he did it. He bailed on his dad - left him to get arrested and go to prison. This is Frank Munson's third strike; he'll go away for life this time.

I'm such a coward, Eddie thinks numbly. Such a chicken piece of shit. He digs his ragged nails into the soft flesh of his palms, squeezing hard enough to draw blood.

As if he'd spoken aloud, a soft voice responds, "You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."

His soulmate sounds so fierce, so certain. Eddie blinks hard against the hot burn of tears. The smart thing to do.

———

Eddie holds onto those words, like magic talismans. They provide comfort, not just in the immediate days after his dad's arrest, but other times too. Every time he runs away from a bully or a cop or a deal gone bad, Eddie thinks to himself - I'm not a coward. I'm just smart.

It works... until the night he stumbles out of his uncle's trailer, leaving Chrissy Cunningham's broken body on the living room floor. He's so terrified he doesn't have time to think, not until after he's ditched his van and taken shelter in Rick's boathouse. As he leans against the splintered wall and catches his breath, it hits him.

I left her there. What if she was still alive? (She wasn't. She couldn't have been. Not after... not after that.) He grabs fistfuls of hair and tugs until his scalp aches. Wracks his brain trying to figure out what happened, what he could have done to stop it.

He's never felt so ashamed before, not even when his dad was cursing and screaming and calling him a coward through the thick glass of the visitation window.

His soulmate's words whisper in his ears, "...sometimes it's just the smart thing to do," and Eddie pounds on his skull with his fists to drown the voice out. "Not this time," he snarls. I should have done something. I should have tried to save her.

He doesn’t feel smart this time. He feels like a cowardly piece of shit.

His soulmate’s voice falls silent.

Through all the craziness to follow – finding out that monsters are real, running for his life from an angry mob, fighting alongside Steve Harrington in an evil Upside Down version of Hawkins – Eddie doesn’t hear his soulmate again.

Not until he’s staring up at Dustin Henderson, realizing that he can’t run away again. As he hesitates at the bottom of the rope, Dustin calls out nervously, “Eddie, what are you doing?”

“I’m buying more time,” he says. He ignores Dustin’s screams as he cuts the rope and slides the mattress out of the way – making sure the kid can’t follow him.

And then he hears his soulmate say, “Wait, wait a second. Eddie?! Is that you?”

Eddie is twenty years old, the first time he recognizes his soulmates voice.

He pauses at the door of the trailer and squeezes his eyes shut tight. “Hey Stevie.”

“Holy shit, it’s you,” Steve whispers in awe.

It’s the first time they’ve been able to speak to each other like this, responding in real-time. Eddie wishes it could have happened in different circumstances.

“I’m so sorry Steve.”

“Eddie? What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed.

Eddie doesn’t answer. He slams his way out of the barricaded trailer and grabs one of the discarded bikes, hoping to lead the swarm of bats away as far as possible.

He makes it halfway across the trailer park before one of the bats knocks him off the bike. He grunts and rolls, gaining his feet quickly. Chest heaving, charged with adrenalin – Eddie hesitates. He could keep running… or he could stand his ground and fight.

Maybe Steve can hear the hitch in his breath in that moment, because the other boy seems to have worked out what’s going on, even from miles away. Steve screams, “No!!! Run Eddie, RUN!!!!”

It’s like the night his dad got arrested. Eddie doesn’t even have time to think - his body reacts to that voice and he runs, worn Reeboks slapping the pavement.

(In another world, Eddie would have turned to face the swarm. In another world, Eddie would have died.)

He’s fast. He’s always been fast. He buys himself a few precious moments, before the bats drag him to the ground. They start to rip through his clothes, through his flesh, and he tries to hold back his screams – he doesn’t want Steve to hear this…

Those extra seconds save his life. It’s bad - but not as bad as it could have been. The bats start to drop from the sky, writhing and shrieking; they’re dying, although Eddie has no idea why. Hopefully, it means Steve and the girls were successful.

He struggles to sit up just as Dustin reaches him, crying and frantic. “Eddie!! Oh my god, are you okay? Jesus, there’s so much blood…” the kid moans.

“Yeah, yep. I’m good,” Eddie pants through gritted teeth. “Help me up okay?”

Dustin insists on binding the worst of his wounds first, using strips of fabric torn from the ghillie suit. The pain makes Eddie want to scream all over again, but he allows it. It is an awful lot of blood.

They lean against each other and limp back to the trailer, where Dustin knots t-shirts and jeans and flannel shirts into the remnants of their rope until it’s long enough to reach the other side again.

Eddie manages to haul himself up the rope and through the gate – and that’s where his strength runs out. The pain of landing on the thin mattress knocks him right out.

———

When Eddie wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed.

Holy shit I’m alive, he thinks. He honestly wasn’t sure he would make it.

He moves gingerly, testing each limb, turning his head against the stinging pull of a bandage along the edge of his jaw.

The room isn’t empty; Eddie apparently has a roommate. He clears his throat and the person in the other bed stirs, turning to look at him.

It’s Steve.

His soulmate.

Eddie feels a funny little swoop of exhilaration in his stomach. “Hey Stevie.”

Steve’s face goes soft at first, like he’s experiencing the same fizzy warmth that Eddie is feeling. Then he blinks, and his brows draw down into a scowl. “What the hell was that, huh? What happened to ‘I’m no hero’?”

Oops.

Eddie tries to make light of the situation. “Maybe I wanted to try it out,” he says flippantly. “Not too sure it suits me though. Think I might stick to being a coward from now on – it’s a lot less painful.”

Steve doesn’t smile. He fixes Eddie with a serious look, hazel eyes blazing in the sallow light of the hospital room. “You listen to me Eddie Munson. You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. Those words – once a gift from the future, now an echo of the past. He never should have ignored them. “Maybe you’re right.”

Steve’s mouth is already open to continue the argument. “I…” he stops, clearly caught off-guard, face scrunched in adorable confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, I am right.”

Steve runs a faintly trembling hand through his hair. The angry expression melts into something gentler, almost unbearably soft. “I’m glad you listened to me in the end, at least.”

Eddie shifts his weight, pressing his cheek into the scratchy hospital pillow so he can keep his eyes on Steve.

He’s so beautiful. Even bloody and bruised, with dirt still smudged along his hairline and dark circles under his eyes – he’s the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. And Eddie almost gave this up – if he’d died in the Upside Down, he would have left Steve alone, with only the echo of Eddie’s voice left to haunt him.

“Yeah,” Eddie says hoarsely, “me too.”

He still feels guilty over Chrissy’s death - he probably always will. But he’s coming to realize that proving himself a hero wouldn’t have been worth the pain his death would have caused.

Eddie’s got a second chance… and he plans to make the most of it.

#steddie #soulmate au #steddie fic #my writing #steve harrington/eddie munson #this is…#I don’t know what this is #a mess maybe #trying to get back into the writing groove

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

Text

“Who was your first kiss?”

“Depends what you mean.” Steve hits the joint Eddie passed to him. They are sitting on the roof of the trailer, stargazing. It is the first clear night of summer. Steve feels lighter than he has in months.

“I'm not really sure if there is another way to ask that, Harrington.” Eddie laughs around the tip of the joint. “It's a pretty simple question. Besides, I thought this was secret time. No need to get shy on me now.” Eddie spins to his side dramatically, tucking his hands beneath his face. He stares at Steve with joy in his eyes.

Steve takes the joint, pulls, and huff smoke into Eddie’s face. A soft laugh escapes him. “Well, I mean, do you mean like the first real kiss? Or, like, when did I start practicing?”

“Practicing?”

“Yea like, figure out how to, and what its like before the real deal? So it doesn't count.”

“I'm sorry—” Eddie scrunches his eyebrows “—I’m confused. Why wouldn't it count?”

“Cause it was with a guy.” Steve shrugs because he doesn't think it's a big deal. He doesn't understand why Eddie is hung up on it.

But then, Eddie's face does this thing for a second. Like he isn't sure whether to be angry or sad, but then it relaxes. Instead, a look of puzzlement takes over his face. “Steve, it counts. Like—even though you're not attracted to guys, that still counts as a first kiss. It’s like—kinda hurtful you think it doesn't.”

Steve tilts his head and goes over what he said in his mind. He can't recall saying anything ridiculous like he does when he is high. “Okay, now I'm confused.”

Eddie stares and says nothing.

“No! Not like confused as in I don't get why your upset, but more like confused who said I was straight?”

In shock Eddie manages, “What now?”

“Never said I was straight. I just meant that if we're talking about first kisses, usually people mean a girl. So the guy doesn't count. Especially because I didn't know I liked guys then. Think even if I was straight this right here—” Steve waves a hand between the two of them “—is pretty homoerotic so I think straight went out the window.”

Eddie swallows, looks down at Steve’s lips, and looks back into his eyes. “There is so much to unpack there. But first, thank you for telling me. Second, Steve. That is like not how it works. Just cause a kiss is practice doesn't mean you didn't kiss. Like just cause you're hitting balls at practice instead of the game, doesn't mean you're not hitting them.”

Something settles in Steve. “Huh, I guess I never thought of it that way.”

Eddie grabs Steve by the shoulders. “I'm glad you understand, but onto more pressing matters. Who was this boy you practiced with?”

“Oh, it was Tommy Hagan.”

Eddie drops his hands in shock. “Hagan?! C’mon Stevie, I thought you had better taste.”

Steve giggles at Eddie’s antics. He can't help but take in how pretty Eddie is when he gets all worked up. It is unfair in Steve’s eyes. How someone can be so wonderful even when they are losing their mind.

Steve can't resist the urge to finally flirt a little. “He wasn't my type Munson. Like I said, just practice. Wasn't really into it. Pretty sure he liked it more than me. I think if I liked him, I would have figured out the whole bisexual thing a lot sooner. No, my type is definitely more in the dark curly hair nerd department.”

Eddie swallows nervously, “Nancy?”

Steve isn't offended by Eddie’s question. Steve knows he's scrambling, can tell by the blush on his face. Steve feels hope spark within his chest. “No, she's great and all, but I was thinking more masculine. With pretty doe eyes, a deep laugh, a kind soul, and horrible taste in music.”

Eddie sputters, and Steve watches his blush spread, “My music is great!”

“Hmmm, sure.”

“Hey Stevie? Do you feel like you need more practice?” Eddie leans in close brushing his nose against Steve’s with a sudden rush of bravery.

“No, i’ve had enough practice. Think I want the real thing.”

“Okay I want to be smooth but I have to google d response to that so I am going to kiss you now.” Eddie rushes out.

“Sounds perfect.” Eddie closes the gap before Steve can say anything else. Eddie tastes like salted chocolate and weed. It's sweet and musky and so very Eddie. It starts soft, the softest kiss Steve’s had, just plush lips pushed against each other.

It slowly builds to more. Steve’s hands travel up Eddie’s sides and into his hair. He wonders how a wild thing could be so, so soft. Steve gives a gentle tug, and Eddie moans deeply into him. Eddie’s hands grab Steve’s waist and yank him forward. His hands are to cause bruises surely, and the thought leaves Steve giddy. The sounds Eddie makes are getting desperate, which causes Steve to release his own moan.

Eddie doesn't waste a second taking advantage and shoving his tongue inside Steve’s mouth. He’s warm and wet, and oh God, Steve wants more, more, more.

After a few minutes, Eddie pulls back. “Wait, who did you really think was your first kiss?”

Steve rests his forehead on Eddie’s. He can't help but think his answer is a little funny. “Carol Perkins.”

“Wait, wasn't she dating Tommy?”

“Oh yeah. He was there actually. Kinda encouraged it to happen.”

Eddie looks torn between laughing and being disgusted. “Again, so much to unpack, but I don't think I want to touch that with a ten-foot pole. At least not tonight. Can we go back to making out?”

“Yes please.” Steve all but begs, a while releasing into the space between them.

They don't pull apart until their lips are swollen and their throats are raw from moaning. It’s Steve’s best first kiss yet.

---

originally this was more angsty and going to be more reflective on my personally experience of the very popular thought of “if my first kiss is with a girl it doesn't count” that I see a lot of bisexuals like myself (and other sexually fluid people...honestly an experience the whole LGBTQ+ community has) have. Like having that realization made me re-evaluate myself. But it ended up being more light hearted and using another experience of mine which is being out but refusing to count the first kiss because of who it was with. Steve and I...we have regrets. I still might write the other one, we shall see :)

#steddie #eddie brings up steve’s brief stint unknowingly in a throuple all the time #Steve screams it was one time #Eddie doesn't stop its too funny #he finally gives up when steve admits he thinks carol is gay #eddie munson loves steve harrington #steve Harrington loves Eddie munson #stranger things #cw: heavy making out #my first time writing making out be kind please #have literally wrote dirty talk and not making out??#ficlet #my writing #tommy hagan #carol perkins #steddie fic #ao3

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writershapeholeonthedoor · 6 months

Text

Tattooed heart

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have tattoos everywhere and your girlfriend suffers from severe anxiety. You learned to walk around with Sharpies to help her out.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. TW for anxiety attacks.

MASTERLIST

The room was crowded to the point where you couldn’t even see the exit doors in the back.

That always made you a bit nervous, of course, but mostly because it usually meant your interview would go on forever until people were satisfied by it. Those types of venues were always endless, but it was even worse when there were so many people attending the panels. Don’t get it wrong, you love attending the coms and meeting the fans to debate the characters and movies, and just the entire MCU universe as a whole, but you were only human and, after spending so long being a part of this, you got a bit tired.

Although the interview was going on forever, you weren’t surprised by the amount of people reunited to see you guys talking. It was hard to have most of the Marvel actors in one single interview, after all, so you were already expecting people to crowd the room and want to ask everyone a million questions. The new Avengers movie was coming up, the trailer had dropped just the day prior, and people were excited to know more. You couldn’t blame them.

You had been listening to Evans give out an overly complex reply to a question someone made him for a while now when you noticed Elizabeth squirming in her chair beside you. She was sitting to your right at the large table where you all were and she had answered a few questions as well, although that was the first time you noticed that she wasn’t moving out of boredom or to adjust in her chair again. She was restless, you noticed by the way she looked down at her legs and by the way her fingers pulled at her dress as if she was trying to get rid of a crinkle that didn’t exist.

Over the years, you learned to read her.

When you first met, three years ago, you were immediately drawn to Elizabeth. At the time, she had red hair thanks to her Marvel character, she was wearing black clothes and she had a fake scar above her eyebrow since you met between takes of the new movie you were both going to be a part of. That wasn’t your first Marvel movie, neither was hers, but that was the first time you were going to share the screen. You had heard about her before, obviously, but nothing had prepared you for how it would feel to meet Elizabeth Olsen in person.

You felt attracted to her since the first day, but you weren’t brave enough to make a move, so you spent the next two months of shooting crushing on her in silence - at least to her because you sang like a canary to all of your castmates to the point where they had to make an intervention because no one could take more of your daydreaming about Elizabeth without doing anything about it. That worked, though, and you found yourself sweating like crazy just a week before the movie wrapped while you waited for Elizabeth to finish her scenes for the day.

You had been nervous for no reason, as your castmates predicted, because Elizabeth said ‘yes’ after you managed to spit out your question and you both went for your first date two days later. That night, Elizabeth admitted she wanted to ask you out since the first day too, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“I’m glad you’re more brave than I am,” she whispered shyly when you were holding hands on top of the table. “I’m too anxious to have managed to actually ask you out.”

But that had been it.

You have been inseparable ever since.

Well, besides when you were both working, of course. You hadn’t made any more movies together since your characters took different turns, but you and Elizabeth were able to move heaven and Earth to make your relationship work no matter what.

As the years went by, you learned to read Elizabeth as easily as an open book. You knew when she was stressed and needed to spend some time in her garden to relax. You knew when Elizabeth was cooking because she wanted to, when she was doing it because she had to eat and when she was stress-cooking. You knew when she liked the movie you were watching by the way she bit her lip and when she couldn’t care less about what was on the TV by the way she kept sighing. There were many little things about Elizabeth that you took notice of over the years, things that you carefully stocked in your memories because they were all details that made you love her more and more every day.

However, there was one thing you made a bigger effort to keep track of.

Her anxiety.

Elizabeth has been suffering from severe anxiety for many years now. She had talked about it in interviews and other things, but no one could understand the magnitude of her anxiety attacks unless they experienced it in person. You had been there to a fair share of them since you met, from the smaller ones where she would complain about feeling like a small weight in her chest to the bigger ones where you had to rush her to the hospital because you honestly thought she was about to have a heart attack. Since that day, you had vowed to always be attuned to the signals of her crisis so you could help Elizabeth get out of them before things got too hard for her to handle.

Elizabeth used to apologize every single time about it, about how she sometimes wouldn’t want to leave the house, how sometimes she would ask you to leave the restaurant that took you both so long to get a table at, how sometimes she needed to sit in complete silence to get herself together, but you always made sure to tell her it wasn’t her fault. Elizabeth had struggled with anxiety, panic attacks and social anxiety for many years now not because she wanted to, but because the media had chased her since she was young and she had grown in fear. That was something she struggled with and something you could help her with.

Or try your best, at the very least.

Since you knew about all of this, you easily realized Elizabeth’s anxiety was making an appearance, slipping through her very strong grip. You could see by the way her green eyes started moving around without focusing on anything, how her jaw clenched, how her breath became heavier and how her fingers kept picking at her dress. Evans was still talking and there was a microphone in front of you, not to mention how there were literally hundreds of eyes and cameras staring at you at that moment, so you couldn’t take her hands and ask her to breathe with you like you usually did.

You had to think fast, however, because Elizabeth’s anxiety escalates quickly and you wouldn’t want that to happen in a room filled with strangers since that was probably the reason why it was happening anyway. Elizabeth had gotten better at dealing with attending those events, giving interviews and talking with fans, but that didn’t mean she didn’t struggle every once in a while. It was still something that wasn’t easy for her, something that made her natural instincts ask her to run away as fast as she could.

Those long interviews made you tired, but they absolutely terrified Elizabeth. She hated the crowded room because she couldn’t spot the exit and her brain would play little tricks at her saying that, if something bad happened, there weren’t enough emergency doors to take everyone out safely. The cameras pointed at her made her overly conscious of every move she made, afraid of what people might capture to spread around. The screams and yells that the fans let go every once in a while made her ears hurt and her insides churn. It was awful.

Averting your eyes so people wouldn’t notice you had been watching her, you placed a gentle hand on her thigh under the table to offer her some comfort. That made Elizabeth jump in surprise, though, since she hadn’t been expecting it, so you quickly removed your hand and offered her a small smile in apology when she glanced at you. You felt bad about it, especially when you noticed the fear in her eyes, but you still tried to calm her down by offering her a smile.

Some of her tension washed away and her shoulders relaxed enough for you to feel safe to touch her again. When your hand touched her thigh this time around, Elizabeth was expecting it and she allowed the touch with a sigh. She threw you a thankful look before turning her head to the side to pay attention to what was being said in case anyone decided to pull her into the conversation, something you also tried to do.

Luckily - so damn luck, indeed - the interview ended just a few minutes after that. You played your part waving at the fans and offering them smiles, but you still held Elizabeth’s hand to pull her away from there as fast as you could without actually running. You were both sitting in the middle of the large table so it wasn’t an easy task. However, your eyes met Zendaya’s eyes for a moment and the girl wasted no time trying to discreetly move everyone out of the way so you could walk past with Elizabeth.

You took your girlfriend backstage and avoided everyone who tried to talk with you on the way until you found a quiet corner to sit down with her. You sat her down on top of a large technical equipment box and you jumped up to sit beside her, already shoving your hand inside your pocket to remove the three Sharpies you had taken with you that day. Green, blue and lilac were the colors you took from the case before leaving the hotel room that afternoon, and you didn’t think twice before handing them to her.

“Come on, I’m your canvas,” you told her lightly while reaching out your arm to her.

Your right arm was filled with tattoos from your shoulders to your wrist. That was something that made many casting directors frown to, but you loved it. That’s the way you find to express yourself and something you cherish. The tattoos were all blackwork, which means they didn’t have any colors added to them, and they were all different drawings that entwined between them thanks to the amazing work of your tattoo artist.

The first time Elizabeth ever drew on your skin was when you took her to the hospital that fateful day. You had seen your girlfriend looking so sad and scared lying down in a hospital bed after the doctor left saying it had been an anxiety attack that you just had to do something. You knew Elizabeth liked to use her hands to help herself calm down because she would run to her garden and spend hours there tending to the plants, putting her hands in the dirt and delicately touching every leaf. That’s why you took the pen that the doctor left behind without noticing and started to look for something she could write on, but there was nothing.

So, you just handed her the pen and told her to write something on your arm.

Elizabeth had looked at you like you were insane for even suggesting it and it took you a while to convince her to give it a try, however, it played out perfectly in the end. Elizabeth spent hours using the blue pen to color your tattoos and it did wonderful things to her anxiety. When the doctor returned, he was happy to say she was good to go and you were just glad that Elizabeth was back to her usual self asking you if you could stop somewhere to eat.

It wasn’t a perfect solution. It was temporary since it usually just calmed her down enough to keep going for a few more hours, but Elizabeth still needed to fully relax in silence, go to her garden or take a warm bath to avoid any real crisis. But that didn’t stop you from buying several Sharpies from different colors to have them around anytime she might need them. You made a habit out of walking around with them inside your pockets and Elizabeth stopped resisting using them to draw on you.

Sure, Elizabeth suggested she buy a notepad to carry with her, but you told her you didn’t mind being her personal canvas. You liked how she touched your skin gently with one hand while she used the other one to color your tattoos. You found it mesmerizing how she managed to make different details every time she drew on you. And you were just glad to be able to help her. Of course, you told Elizabeth it was okay if she preferred to have some paper to draw on, but luckily she didn’t argue against painting your arm instead.

It worked.

And that would have to do because you couldn’t take her to the hotel room you were sharing yet and it was clear that Elizabeth wasn’t feeling great.

“No,” your girlfriend said without taking the Sharpies from you. “We still have more interviews today.”

“Exactly,” you argued. “That’s fine. You know I don’t mind it.”

“People will make questions,” Elizabeth insisted, but it held no real resistance behind her words anymore. She was already taking the pens from you and you smiled happily at that.

“Let them,” was your reply.

A second later, Elizabeth took the green Sharpie to start painting one of the tattoos on the back of your arm.

When your castmates found you both, your skin was a mix of green, blue and lilac already, and Elizabeth's full attention was on the task in her hands. She didn’t look about to lose her mind anymore, her breathing was normal again, her hands weren’t shaking and her frown was purely because she was trying to keep the colors inside the line and not because she was in panic. Your friends gave you space because they didn’t want her to feel crowded again, but Holland lent you his jacket while you were all walking to the next interview to avoid questions and Elizabeth kissed your lips just before going on stage.

“You’re the best girlfriend in the world,” Elizabeth whispered against your skin.

You shrugged it off and leaned to kiss her forehead. “I love you,” you reminded her gently aware that you would climb every mountain and swim every ocean to make her happy.

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x you #elizabeth olsen x reader #celebrity x reader #marvel #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #fanfic #creative writing #my writing #drabble #fluff #slight angst

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finntheehumaneater · 3 months

Text

I owe you a black eye and two kisses (part four)

(Part one) (part five)

playlist | pinboard

Steve pulled Robin’s Madonna shirt back over his head, running a hand sideways through his hair, but it just flopped back over. His sneakers were still bloody, the laces stained. He hadn’t slept anymore after what happened outside with Eddie. His lungs still burned. His lips still ached.

He tied the laces of his sneakers, sitting down next to the door to the trailer, ignoring the way his hands shook. Wayne was sitting on the picnic table, watching Eddie struggle to drag the mattress out of the back of his van. Steve would have helped him, but when he had asked Eddie had snapped at him, saying that Steve didn’t need to show off and make him look bad.

Steve sat down next to Wayne, watching as Eddie fell flat on his ass in the grass, pressing his face into his hands. Wayne smiled slightly, a look of sympathy on his face, and Steve looked back to Eddie.

“Kid’s too proud for his own good,” Wayne muttered, nothing but fondness in his voice as he grabbed a cigarette from his pocket. Steve hated the way his cheeks flushed when he saw it. Wayne must have caught him staring, because he held it out to Steve, an eyebrow raised in question, and Steve shook his head quickly, trying to give him a polite smile. It came out more strained than he would have hoped.

After watching Eddie trip again, the mattress barely moving, Steve got up, his sneakers crunching on the rocks in the dirt beneath him. He ignored Eddie’s quiet noise of protest as he stepped next to him, grabbing the end of the mattress and turning it sideways up on himself. His arms hurt. He pulled it out and then leaned it against himself, loving the way that Eddie’s cheeks turned bright red, his eyebrows furrowed. “Where are we putting this?”

“Fuck you, Harrington,” Eddie bit out, pushing into Steve’s shoulder as he passed, the door of the trailer slamming shut. Steve’s shoulders dropped slightly, and he flinched slightly when he felt Wayne’s hand on his shoulder.

“S’okay, son,” Wayne said quietly, the cigarette pinched between his teeth, sticking out the side of his mouth. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Steve still felt like he had. Normally people didn’t get mad at him when he helped out—they thanked him and then moved on. And honestly? Steve wasn’t expecting a ‘thank you’ for Eddie. He would’ve been fine without them. He didn’t help just to be thanked anymore, that’s not who he was. “I was just trying to help,” Steve whispered, eyes glued to the screen door of the trailer. Eddie had closed the wooden one, too.

“He was trying to impress you, I think,” Wayne said thoughtfully, squeezing Steve’s shoulder lightly before letting go. “Say—you wanna run an errand with me? You seem good at lifting things.”

Steve froze slightly, perking up a bit. He would do anything if it meant having to go over to Dustin’s right about now. Because all Dustin would do was scold him for being reckless and going somewhere without telling him. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

“Great,” Wayne muttered, giving Steve a small smile before motioning for him to follow him inside. Steve did, and it felt good to be in the cooler trailer, even if it was only cooler by a small amount. The air conditioning didn’t really work there, he had learned, which is why the wooden door behind the screen one was usually kept open.

Wayne led Steve to the closet near the small kitchen area and opened it, pointing to a couple boxes on the top shelf. They were all labeled Antoinette. Steve wanted to ask who that was, but Wayne had a sad look in his eyes as he stared at the boxes. So Steve kept quiet and grabbed the boxes down, stacking them gently on top of each other.

“Takin’ these to the Antique store ‘couple miles from here,” Wayne explained, tearing his eyes away from the boxes. He scrubbed at his face for a moment and sighed, taking a drag of his cigarette and shaking his head when he breathed out. “You can load ‘em into my trunk.”

Steve picked the top box up. It wasn’t really heavy. Wayne could have easily carried it. But Steve got why he was being invited—this was too much of a personal thing for Wayne to do alone. And if this was making Wayne emotional, then Steve didn’t think Eddie would want any part in this. Still, he felt weird as he took the boxes to Wayne’s car. He didn’t even know this woman—and he was assuming this was her stuff that they were selling—and yet he was being trusted with her belongings.

When Wayne went back inside, probably to grab the last box, Steve opened the box he had just set in the trunk. There was a dress in there—white and pretty and expensive looking. Old, too. It was fraying at the hems and there were a few light stains on it, but other than that it was beautiful. And to Steve, the disrepair made it even more beautiful. He lifted it up, and pressed between that and an old looking bible was a small porcelain bird—yellow-ish orange, green designs that looked like leaves wrapping around the wings, two little black dots for eyes. It was only an inch or two big, Steve thought.

He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was pretty, too. Kind of shining in the sun.

“Like that?” Wayne asked quietly, and Steve startled, his grip tightening on the dove statue. His cheeks went pink and he felt horrible. He stuffed it back into the box, placing the dress down and closing the cardboard flaps back down.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude—“ He stuttered out, but Wayne silenced him with a slight shake of his head.

“S’alright. M’not mad. You like it?”

Steve nodded, wringing his hands together. His palms were warm. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s from Georgia,” Wayne said, his voice oddly soft to be talking about a small porcelain bird. “It was her’s. Antoinette.”

He patted his hand against Steve’s thigh once and Steve stepped aside, letting Wayne reopen the box, a slight tremor to his hands as he picked up the dress and handed it to Steve, lifting up the dove.

Wayne’s hands were shaking so much, now, that Steve thought he might drop the bird, so Steve gently took a hold of Wayne’s wrist, steadying his hand. “Who was she? Antoinette?”

“Someone special,” Was all Wayne answered as he pressed the dove into Steve’s hand, wiping his eyes. “Keep it.”

“I can’t—“

“Please, son. I couldn’t bear the thought of this goin’ to someone I don’t trust.” Wayne begged quietly, and Steve nodded, gently stuffing the bird into his pocket. His eyes were watering, and he didn’t even know why.

“I’ll keep it safe,” he promised, letting go of Wayne’s wrist.

Wayne nodded. “You’re a good kid.”

The ride to the antique shop was short, but it made the world feel even hotter when they stepped outside. Steve helped Wayne unload the boxes, and then was told to wait, while Wayne went to go find “Sunny”.

So Steve sat in the back of Wayne’s open trunk, his feet dangling off the edge, toeing at the dirt with his bloody sneakers. Until there was another pair of shoes in front of him. Yellow converse. Steve startled slightly when he looked up, seeing a girl around his age right in front of him. She had dark brown skin with some pale patches spotting over her hands and arms—one over the bridge of her nose— freckles dotted over her face, and long brown hair that fell in braids down her back. Her eyes were fixed on Steve’s lips, and his tongue darted out to run across them nervously.

“Hi,” he said quietly, gripping the edge of the trunk as he leaned into it slightly, trying to put some distance between the two of them.

“Hi,” she said back, and Steve noticed that her voice sounded a bit off. It wasn’t really noticeable, but there was a slight strain to it, and it took her a moment to respond, almost like she had to remember how to say it.

She had a skirt that fell to her knees, and it was orange—almost the same color as the bird in Steve’s pocket. Her tank top was yellow, to match her sneakers, which had dirt scuffs on the sides.

She waved slight to get Steve’s attention, and then pointed to the boxes, before making a fist—her thumb sticking up—and placing it on top of the palm of her other hand. She moved her flat hand up, giving him a pointed look.

Steve frowned, tiling his head slightly. “I’m sorry?”

“Help,” she explained, pointing to the boxes again. “With the boxes, I mean.”

Steve nodded, giving her a moment to grab one of the boxes, before picking one up himself. The girl had three stacked on top of each other, carrying them inside—which left Steve to carry the last three. He took two trips, because he didn’t want to drop any.

The outside of the building was small and wooden—kind of in the middle of nowhere, with mostly patchy grass and dirt surrounding it—but it looked bigger on the outside. It was full of shelves covered in other people’s things, some of them looking ancient. There was a box of rings on the counter, and a small gold one caught his attention, but the girl kicked at his ankle lightly, like she wanted him to keep walking.

Wayne was leaning on the counter, giving Cleo a smile and a nod, before glinting back to talking with the woman behind it. She had frizzy gray hair that Steve thought used to be red, and deep tan skin, a few piercings in her ears and tattoos up her arms.

“Marge,” she said, holding out her hand, and Steve shifted the box in his arms to shake it.

“Steve.”

He looked back at Wayne, who was watching the girl rifle through one of the boxes. She pulled out the white dress, and then looked over at Wayne, who smiled slightly at her. “You can have that. I’d rather it goes to someone who’ll use it.”

The girl made some more hand gestures at him, frowning slightly, and Wayne sighed, speaking a bit slower. “I know, kid, but I’m old. I’m learning. Give me some time.”

The girl paused for a moment again, and then nodded, before running back off between some shelves with the dress in her arms. Marge turned to Wayne, her hair bounding slightly as she reached around the old-looking cash register, pulling out a stack of bills. “For her things.”

Wayne sighed, but it sounded more sad than apologetic this time. “Marge, that’s more than this is worth.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But you need it more than I do. Sunny and I’ll be okay.” Then Marge paused, smiling wider. “And she said she wanted you to know that by the next time you see her, you should be able to spell her name, yeah?”

Wayne laughed quietly, and Steve went over to the ring box, gently moving them around to get a good look at all of them.

“I’m trying, I swear,” he heard Wayne say as he turned a silver one with a big green gem on it over in his fingers. “But learning this kind of stuff out of a book is hard. It all looks funny.”

Steve quickly grabbed the golden one he had seen before, so that it wouldn’t disappear back into the piles. He looked closer, and on the inside it read, “I’ll be your star.”

Steve looked up and saw Marge eyeing the ring in his hands. “Posy ring,” she muttered.

“What?”

“You give it to someone you like, I guess. Term of endearment. Keep it, hun, no one else wants it.”

Steve frowned, slipping the ring onto his middle finger and then taking it off again. “Why not? It’s pretty.”

“Too much history, I think,” Marge said thoughtfully, eyeing Wayne with a small smile, before turning her attention back to Steve. “No one wants a piece of someone else’s love story.”

“Oh,” Steve whispered, looking back down at the Posy Ring. “I think…I think if it were mine I would like someone else to have it. I mean—this seems like it would be something important, right? I wouldn’t want it to just…sit there.”

“I said you can have it, honey,” Marge said, laughing softly again before shooing the two of them away. “Now go, go. Sunny and’ll unpack the boxes. Tell Eddie that Sunny said hi. She misses having him around, you know.”

Wayne nodded, and Steve picketed the ring. It felt good this time, to have someone else’s history with him. Antoinette’s bird was pretty, but its history was sad, and maybe even tragic. Steve didn’t know this ring’s history yet, but he’d like to find out.

I LOVE ADDING ORIGINAL CHARACTERS FKJNVIJVBAIJVB

also I know there’s a shit ton of unexplained things, like with Antoinette, but they will be explained!! Don’t worry!!!

as always, reblogs and comments make my day ♥️⭐️

(And, as always, if you see any mistakes, lmao, I never read these over lmao)

taglist (WHICH IS ALWAYS OPEN) under the cut!!

@estrellami-1

@randombibitch

@insteviewetrust

@anne-bennett-cosplayer

@hack-saw2004

@lolawonsstuff

@goodolefashionedloverboi

@slowandsteddie

@ellietheasexylibrarian

@mugloversonly

@littlebluejane

@zombiethingy

@steddie-island

@rozzieroos

@ohimamarigold

@origamiplushie

@mamafaithful

@stillfullofshit

@gleek4twd

@swimmingbirdrunningrock

@anaibis

@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx

@honhonbaguettegofuckyourself

@kickpuncher2punchkicker

@dissociatingdemon

@itsall-taken

@pluto-pepsi

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judeswhore · 2 years

Text

love on you; steve harrington

summary: a few months into your relationship with steve you were still waiting on your first time but after an extra long day at work all you want is for him to relieve you of some tension

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

requested: yes

warnings: smut, 18+, oral (f) receiving, fingering, slight dirty talk, protected sex, this turned out a lot longer than i expected bc i wanted it to be soft and fluffy so hopefully it is

notes: feedback is appreciated! you can find my masterlist here. there was another request for sweet sex with steve after work which i incorporated into this but i lost the original ask so to the anon who sent it this is also ur request and i’m so sorry!

steve knew you were exhausted the moment you stepped into his bedroom, dropping your work bag to the floor with a quiet huff, lips pouted almost dramatically as you flopped down on top of him. you were still in the diners uniform, a cute yellow dress that steve told you constantly was the hottest thing he'd ever seen, but you'd removed the white frilly apron and black flats that came with it. he himself had finished his shift at family video almost two hours ago and after dropping dustin off at eddie's trailer, he'd spent the rest of his time waiting for you to finish, watching jaws.

his arms found your waist as you tucked your face away in the crook of his neck, lashes fluttering against his skin when you closed your eyes and he held back a shiver at the feel of your breath on his throat. you'd slid one hand into his hair and steve grinned at the way you so comfortably clung to him, took pride in the fact he was your source of comfort after a long day. he turned his head to kiss the side of yours, tucking his nose away in your hair and breathing in the familiar scent of your sweet and flowery perfume.

"rough day?"

"the absolute worst, my feet are gonna fall off." he could feel you pouting and the sleepy warn out tone of your voice tugged at his heart and he found himself pouting too. he brushed his hand up and down your back, slow and soothing and you seemed to melt into him, a content hum tickling his collarbone.

"my poor baby." he left a cluster of kisses against your head, tender and loving, the tips of his fingers tickling the bare skin at the back of your thigh before working back up. his touch made you shudder, had the tension in your shoulders finally unwinding after such a long day. it was always a surprise to you how much comfort steve could bring, how he would settle your mind and heart, could have you forgetting all about the stresses of your day with just a few light kisses and fleeting touches. no one had ever had that kind of effect on you before, no one had ever made your head spin and heart stutter the way he did. "how can i make it better?"

you shifted against his body at that question, lifting your head to finally look at him and he sent you a lovesick smile, one that twisted up your insides. you grinned at his slightly messed up hair, more than happy that it was free from product, fluffy and unkempt, eyes tracking over his freckles, those lips that you'd thought about on more than one occasion today. he was still tracing his fingers along your thigh and each time he got a little higher up your dress your body reacted, stomach clenching, pulse flickering in more than one place.

"you can kiss me." his smile turned cheeky, more flirty as he lowered his eyes, lifted his head until his lips grazed yours.

“can i now?” your nod had your noses bumping, your top lip catching slightly on his bottom and steve’s fingers curled around the back of your thigh. his other hand held your waist, his eyes twinkling and the heat of him made you feel a little flustered. in one movement he’d flipped the two of you over, your back hitting his mattress, head against his soft pillow and you giggled arms winding around his neck. he slotted easily between your legs, forearms resting on either side of your head and dipped low, lips brushing soothingly over your jaw. “missed you.”

“how much?”

“so much.” he nipped playfully at your ear, dragging his mouth back along your cheek until it hovered over yours, breath warm against your skin. he gave you one simple kiss, quick, fleeting, barely even there and it made you pout, fingers sinking into his hair. “been thinking about you all day.” he pressed a kiss to your pout but it still wasn’t enough to satisfy you, your skin prickling with an overwhelming need to feel him. in any way.

“yeah? what about?” he grinned that devilish grin again and dipped down to your neck, your head tipping back when you felt his lips at your throat. his kisses were full and wet, tongue darting out to soothe over the gentle marks he’d made and you gave a breathy sigh, fingers twisting in his hair. steve’s body between your legs had resulted in your dress rising up, thighs completely bare and your heart hammered when he slid his hand down it, fingers hooking around the back of your knee to lift it over his hip. it had him pressing completely into you, the fabric of his jeans against your clothed clit making your head spin, a whimper getting caught in the back of your throat.

in the months since you and steve had started dating you’d gone no further than heavy make outs, soft groping with fumbling and unsteady hands. on your part at least, steve was an expert with his hands, even when just running them along your body, teasing over your boobs as you’d moaned into his mouth. you hadn’t had your first time yet, with anyone, you hadn’t wanted to rush, but right now, pressed beneath your boyfriend, his weight and heat pushing you further into the bed, you didn’t want to wait anymore. you wanted him, in the closest way humanly possible. you were tired of the pent up frustration, the need to feel him completely almost overwhelming and after the awful day you’d had at work you wanted steve and the pleasure he could give you to help you relax.

“‘bout how pretty you are,” his words were muffled by your skin, slightly rough around the edges and you wondered if he was struggling to stay composed as much as you. he was still yet to kiss you properly and it was driving you insane, every part of your body begging to be touched by him. “because you’re so fucking pretty, baby, y’know that? got the prettiest eyes. the prettiest smile.” he punctuated his last two sentences with kisses to your mouth, his nose nudging yours. “you’re beautiful.”

steve finally kissed you, full and proper, lazy drags of his lips against yours that were mind numbingly sweet. he made a noise into the kiss, one that had your hips bucking up against his, fingers pulling at the ends of his hair and he groaned again in response, a sound that came from deep in his chest. his forearm was pressed just above your head on the pillow, holding himself up and his other hand left your thigh to cup your jaw, tilting your head back so he could deepen the kiss. he rolled his hips carefully into yours and your mouth fell open on a gasp, steve’s tongue taking the opportunity to meet yours.

your body felt like it was on fire, your dress suddenly too warm and too tight, heat creeping up your chest and neck as you licked into steve’s mouth, revelling in the taste of coffee on his lips. his thumb was brushing over your cheek, soft and comforting, and you felt dizzy with desire, fingers running down his sides until you reached the hem of his shirt. you pushed your hands beneath it, palms flat to his abdomen and you felt him tense, felt the strain in his jeans as he once again rocked his hips into yours, a shudder running through him. you wrapped your fingers in the hem of his shirt and tugged, pulling your lips away from his.

"take it off." your words were breathless, uttered against the corner of his mouth and steve paused momentarily as you pushed his shirt a little further up. he was breathing just as hard as you, chest rising and falling a little rapidly and it shocked you how much of an effect you seemed to have on each other. a few minutes of making out and you were both a little dizzy and disoriented. steve shifted up on to his knees between your legs, raised his arms and tugged the white shirt over his head, discarding it carelessly to his floor.

you followed him up, sitting with your knees bent on either side of his body, hands reaching for his chest, fingertips tracing the lines of his muscles, the dip of his v as you took in his now disheveled state. mused hair, kiss swollen lips, soft pink cheeks. he looked like sex and it was driving you insane. he dipped back down to kiss you, moaning softly into your mouth when you ever so lightly dragged your nails down his back. you ran your hands along his arms, the bulge of his biceps making your head spin because even after all this time you still found it hard to believe he was yours. he was someone who always seemed so far out of reach, someone who was too perfect to ever look twice in your direction and it was hard sometimes not to pinch yourself just to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

your head tipped back, a breathy sigh rolling from your lips when steve dropped his face into your neck, lips hot and teasing on your skin. he sucked a kiss into a spot at the base of your throat and your stomach tightened, clit throbbing and it was almost embarrassing how desperate and wet you were. steve had barely done anything yet the damp spot in your underwear was only growing larger. he soothed his tongue over the mark he’d made, his fingers squeezing at your thigh, hand pushing your dress up until it was almost around your waist. the top of his thumb swiped beneath the band of your underwear and you squeezed his bicep, nerves on fire wherever he touched. curling your fingers around his wrist you pulled his hand from your thigh, brought it up and around your back, guiding him towards the zipper of your dress.

“can you unzip me?” it was a whisper but steve still heard, body freezing, lips parting from where he’d been sucking and biting a small blossom beneath your ear. he pulled back to meet your eyes, his own dark and lust filled, a little glassy and unfocused. he blinked at you, once, slowly and then reached his hand to brush along your cheek.

“we don’t have to do anything, you don’t have to feel like we need to just because, y’know.” he glanced down at his naked chest and then a little further until you were both staring at the obvious bulge in his jeans. he was straining against the material and you so badly wanted to touch him, wanted steve to teach you all the things he liked so you could have him falling apart in front of you. you shook your head, fingers brushing his hair back off his forehead, slipping easily through the silky strands.

“i want to. i- i want you.” the words settled over you, steve’s eyes flickering between both of yours as if he was trying to find any hint of hesitation, any small indication that you didn’t actually want to go any further. he rubbed his thumb softly over your bottom lip, shuffling a little closer to you.

“you’re sure? i don’t want you to feel pressured or anything, we can just like make out and watch a movie.” he gave you a small, lopsided grin as you took his face between both of your hands, cupped his cheeks and pressed a light kiss to his lips.

"i'm tired of just making out, wanna feel you." steve made a soft sound at your words, eyes falling closed for a second as he drew in a deep breath before letting it fan out over your lips. he bumped your nose lightly and then was kissing you again, slow and toe curling, completely all consuming, his fingers working at the zipper on the back of your dress. his knuckles dragged along your spine and pulled a shiver from you, your heart thrumming in your chest, tummy winding as he helped you out of the material, dropping it to the floor beside his shirt.

"you're gorgeous, just fucking perfect, baby." his eyes immediately fell to your chest, boobs almost spilling from your bra and suddenly he was crowding you, pressing you back into the mattress, arms caging you between them. his mouth was everywhere, against your jaw, your throat, grazing your collarbone, pressing softly into the swell of your boobs. his hands were just as bad, sliding up your thigh, over the dip of your waist, fingers brushing over every part of you they could. your fingers got lost in his hair, your whole body catching alight with each drag of his tongue until your chest was heaving and you were slowly becoming a whimpering mess.

steve's finger tip traced along the skin just beneath your bra, his lips shifting into a small smirk when you shivered. "can i take it off?" you were nodding before he'd even finished, lifting on to your elbows so he could reach the strap.

"please." the second your bra was gone steve was on you, mouth latching on to one nipple, thumb and finger pinching and rolling the other. he gently cupped your boob, squeezing softly until you were arching into him, pressing his head closer with your grip on his hair. he pulled off with a pop, blew cold air against your now wet skin and watched goosebumps rise across your body.

"got the prettiest tits." you felt hot all over, flustered and worked up, hips lifting so you could grind against steve's cock, slightly annoyed that his jeans were still in the way. he groaned low in response and bucked back into you, the metal of his belt cold and stinging against the flushed skin of your stomach. steve flicked his tongue over your nipple, pressed a series of soft kisses to the space between your boobs, nuzzling into your skin just slightly. "gonna take care of you, okay? but you have to tell me if you want me to stop."

"i will, promise, just-just do something." your mind was spinning, pussy throbbing with an overwhelming sense of need and you couldn't help the whine that slid into your voice. steve lifted his head and pressed a tender kiss to your mouth, lingering a few seconds before shuffling down the bed and your body. his hands soothed over your sides as he settled between your open legs, turning his head to kiss your thighs, mouth trailing up towards your pussy. the wet patch was obvious and steve grinned, blew onto it and watched as your body tightened.

“gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl, just relax for me yeah?” you gave a jerky nod of your head, watched steve hook his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and slowly tug them down. he kept his eyes on yours the whole time, even when he dipped his head and kissed the inner side of your knee, soft and comforting. “tell me if you want me to stop.” he repeated and despite the hunger raging low in your belly you couldn’t stop the swell of affection in your heart at his words. you nodded again and reached for one of his hands, locking your fingers through his and squeezing.

you’d propped yourself up slightly on your elbows, wanting to watch steve as his lips brushed over your inner thigh, his hair tickling against your sensitive skin and your thighs tensed on either side of his head when he pressed a feather light kiss to your clit. he looked at you from beneath his lashes, another kiss sending a surge of longing and desire up your spine.

“thought about this so much, y’know, ‘bout how good you’d taste, all the pretty noises you’d make. drove me fucking insane.” he mumbled and you let out a soft gasp at the way his bottom lip caught on the sensitive bundle of nerves. before you had the chance to say anything, to beg him to finally touch you, his tongue met your skin, gave one bold swipe from your already dripping hole to your clit and you fell back into the mattress. steve kept his hand in yours and ran his thumb comfortingly over your skin, his other hand pressed to your thigh in order to keep you open for him.

his tongue made quick work over you, flicking softly at your clit, lapping at your hole as he groaned at the taste of you, nose bumping deliciously into your clit. your body was tensing within minutes, thighs attempting to close around steve’s head as pleasure curled in your tummy, numbed your mind. you pressed your head back into his pillow, free hand reaching to grip his hair and your lips fell open, quiet moans spilling into the room. steve groaned low in his chest when you pushed his head further into you and attempted to roll your hips, chasing the orgasm that was only minutes away.

it wasn’t like you’d never touched yourself before, countless make out sessions with steve had resulted in you going home and taking care of yourself but this was different. it had never felt this good, this electric before, your entire body was wracked with pleasure, clit pulsing when steve sucked it into his mouth and your moans turned to whines, your back arching from the bed. he teased the bud with his teeth, kept his lips wrapped around it and sucked hard, his hand leaving your thigh so he could tease two fingers at your hole. you were already so wet, so worked up that they slid in knuckle deep without resistance, your surprised moan like music to steve’s ears.

“oh fuck.” you clenched down around his fingers, they were so much bigger than yours, thicker, longer, could reach sensitive spots that yours couldn’t. spots that had stars dancing behind your eyelids when your eyes fell closed. your grip on his hair was tight, hips rising from the bed as the sounds of his fingers entering you mixed in the air with your moans.

“doing okay, princess?” you could only nod, whining when he increased the pace of his fingers, curling them up to press against your walls. he was stretching you out, prepping you for his cock and your head spun as you revelled in the pleasure his thick length could bring if this was how his fingers felt. he flicked the very tip of his tongue over your clit, swirled it a little before lifting his head. “tell me how it feels.”

“so good, god, so good steve.”

“yeah? taking my fingers so well, can feel you squeezing them, you gonna cum?”

“yeah, oh my god. m’so close.” steve had dived back in, lips and tongue against your clit, fingers twisting and scissoring inside of you, working you open and towards you orgasm. it was dangling over you, thighs shaking on either side of his head, your fingers squeezing lightly at his while your head turned, face buried in his pillow. the coil in your tummy was ready to snap, pleasure burning inside of you and the continuous fluttering of your pussy had steve fucking you harder with his fingers. it sounded dirty and sinful, your wetness dripping messily out of you, down his wrist and on to his sheets.

“there you go, baby, i’ve got you. god you look so fucking pretty when you cum, wanna watch you forever.” your orgasm hit you like a truck, hard and all at once, a high keening moan of steve’s name and a few curses tumbling from your lips. your clit throbbed against his tongue, pussy squeezing his fingers tight as he leisurely pumped them in and out of you, riding out your high with slow careful licks. your thighs had closed around him, your fingers locked in his hair and it took a few seconds before you let him go, body relaxing as you sank back into his sheets.

your chest heaved and everywhere was overly sensitive, your skin still prickling with aftershocks of pleasure and you whined when steve pulled his fingers from you. they were drenched in your cum and as he sat up between your still slightly shaky legs you watched him suck them between his lips, suckling softly to clean them. something reacted inside of you, a carnal need for him taking over and you reached for him, tugging him down to slot your lips together. steve hummed softly, licked into your mouth and the taste of yourself on his tongue made your skin hot.

“are you okay?” he pulled away a little, meeting your eyes, fingers brushing beneath your eye, pushing the hair back off your face. despite his jeans you could feel how hard he was, cock pressing into you and you so badly needed to feel him inside of you.

“i’m more than okay, steve.” he smiled at that, nuzzled his nose against your cheek and turned to pressing kisses into your jaw. he was aching in his jeans, cock pulsing, desperate to feel you wrapped around him but he didn’t want to push, didn’t want you to think you had to go all the way. you knew he was hesitating, taking his time instead to kiss new marks into your throat and he groaned a little when your hands fumbled with his belt.

“we don’t have to, if you’re not ready. we can wait.” he dragged his kisses across your cheek until his mouth hovered over yours, his lashes fluttering when you finally unbuckled his belt and moved on to his button.

“i’m ready, i don’t wanna wait anymore.” when steve didn’t make a move to help with with his jeans, his lips just floating over your cheek you paused, worry trickling through your chest. “unless you don’t want to then we can wait.” his head shake was almost aggressive, a disbelieving breathless laugh washing over your skin before he propped himself up on his elbows, soft eyes on yours. he looked more than a little messy and you wondered if you looked just as bad, kiss bitten lips and sex strewn hair.

“i want to, you have no idea how badly i want to but i don’t wanna rush you if you’re not ready. i want you to be one hundred percent sure, y’know? i don’t want you to regret it.”

"steve," you brushed your fingers through his hair, nails scraping lightly over his scalp and lifted to press a kiss to his mouth. "i want this with you, one hundred percent. i don't wanna wait anymore because it's driving me crazy and,” you kissed him again, sweet and tender, not as lust driven as your previous ones. “there’s nothing i could do with you that i’d regret.” a tint filtered over his cheeks, soft and subtle and he brushed his lips with your own, catching your mouth in another scathing, heart pounding kiss.

“god, i got so fucking lucky with you.” one of his hands joined yours and you both worked his button open, the sound of his zipper being dragged down making your pulse spike with anticipation. steve parted from your lips to wriggle out of his jeans and underwear, the fabric hitting the floor with a dull clatter thanks to the belt, and then slowly lowered himself back over you, trailing his fingers up your side.

“i’ll go slow, okay? you can tell me if it’s too much and i’ll stop.” he kissed your cheek, grazed his knuckles over the skin on the underside of your boob and a different kind of heat bloomed in your chest. a heat made from love and adoration, of comfort and warmth and home. the reassuring tone of his voice made your heart skip, a smile tugging the corners of your lips.

“i know, do you, uh- do you have a condom?” steve froze above you, a brief look of panic filtering into his features and your heart dropped, disappointment swirling inside of you. you weren’t on any form of contraception and as much as you trusted steve you didn’t exactly trust his reflexes to be fast enough to pull out. you blinked and let out a breath and then steve grinned, bumped your nose with a quiet laugh.

“just kidding, i’ve got a box.”

“idiot.” you frowned and pinched his side as he leant his upper body over to his nightstand, satisfied when he yelped. he rifled through the drawer, pulled out a little blue packet and you huffed a sigh when he teasingly tapped it against your cheek.

“should’ve seen your face,” he was grinning, propped above you with that cocky, smug look on his face and you had to hold back your eye roll. “like i’d just told you i’d stolen your dog, want me bad huh?” you shook your head, ignoring his comment as you watched him place the condom packet between his teeth. your pussy clenched, a flood of heat settling between your thighs when he tore it open and you realised you were about to feel him completely for the first time. giddy anticipation filled you but the way you glanced at him was all shy fluttery lashes.

“can i do it?” he paused, condom in hand, packet fluttering to the floor and glanced down at you.

“you wanna put it on?” you only nodded and steve smiled, letting you take it from him. “just gotta roll it on yeah? it’s-” his words fell short, a soft hiss sounding from him when your fingers settled soft on his tip. both of you watched you roll the condom down him, his stomach clenching when your fist tightened to make sure it was placed right. he was achingly hard, bigger and thicker than you’d expected but still it was only desire and excitement that thrummed through you, your blood singing with pleasure already.

steve shifted, waited a few seconds as you ran your hands up his arms, locked them around his neck and pressed the tip to your hole, just barely pushing it in. his forehead was against yours, lips almost touching and he paused for a second. “relax for me, okay? gonna take care of you.” you nodded and then he was pushing his hips forward, burying himself into you slowly, inch by inch as your breath caught. the whimper you let out as he brushed against your walls had steve moaning softly, his head spinning at finally being inside you. you were still so wet, slick from your previous orgasm and he faced very little issues filling you up, only stopping once he was pressed completely to the hilt.

you were wrapped so tight, so snug around him, had swallowed his cock so easily and you watched him struggle to keep composure, his lashes fluttering. the stretch was slightly painful, you felt a little too full, could almost feel him in your stomach but the tiny pricks of pleasure at your spine was enough to have you shifting beneath him. he didn’t move at first, kept still, one hand clamped on your hip, the other pressed beside your head for leverage. his warm breath fanned your lips as he stroked your thigh, hooked it up and over his hip and you gasped when it had him pushing impossibly deeper into you.

“we doing okay, pretty girl?”

“yeah, yeah you’re just-” you lifted your hips, grinding up against him for that well needed stimulation to your clit and it made steve moan, quiet but enough to make your pussy flutter around his cock. “just so big.” his laugh was breathless and a little ragged, his cheeks flushing at the compliment, cock twitching as it almost begged for him to finally fuck you.

“you can take it, know you can.”

“yeah, i can take it. you can move, steve, please.”

“i’ll take it slow remember? you can tell me what you like.” you could only nod at that because he’d drawn his hips back, pulled almost completely out of you before pushing back in, pumping into you with slow, drawn out movements. he was so gentle, kept the hand that had been on your thigh, on the side of your face, cupped your jaw lightly so he could bring you in for toe curling kisses.

the first few moments were uncomfortable, your body not used to it but the pain quickly faded into heart trembling pleasure, your fingers tightening in his hair. he didn’t shift his pace, just kept filling you up slowly, each thrust of his cock stretching you all the more perfectly. he was hitting spots so deep, rubbing your walls as you clenched around him, lips parting as moans started to filter through them. he’d angled his hips so each pump would have his pubic bone grinding against your clit, the pleasure from that alone almost blinding.

steve couldn’t seem to get control of himself, he’d tucked his face away in your neck, tangled one hand with yours and his kisses were messy, broken up by his moans and soft grunts. your walls sucked around him, tried to keep him from leaving and he gave an extra hard thrust, one that jolted you up the bed, letting out a surprised whimper as your squeezed his hand.

“sorry, fuck, m’sorry you’re just so tight.”

“want it harder.” you wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, pulled him a little closer and what little thread of self control he had, snapped, his hips bucking harsher into yours. “oh god, steve, just like that.”

“jesus, you’re fucking perfect. taking my cock so well, baby, doing so good for me.” he whispered praises into your ear, about how good you felt, how well you were doing for him and it made your head spin, your fingers tugging at his hair. he fucked you down into the mattress, his thrusts growing a little faster as you teetered a little closer to your orgasm. his cock almost pounded into you, filling you completely before pulling out, the tip kissing against spots you didn’t even know were there, spots that made you dizzy, made your moans a little louder.

you were gripping him so tight, clenching a little harder when he pumped his cock a little faster and he knew you were close, could see it taking over your face and body. he shifted slightly, brought his lips to slant over yours, his thumb finding your clit. you whined when he started rubbing tight circles over it, his thrusts not faltering even when you started to unravel around him. your body tensed, thighs shaking ever so slightly and steve groaned at how tight you’d gotten, his own need to cum almost overwhelming.

“good girl, that’s it, need you to cum for me, baby. c’mon show me how good it is and cum on my cock.” it hit you so fast and sudden, your head tipping away from steve’s lips, back arching until your chest was pressed flush to his, whimpers and moans of his name filling the stuffy air. steve fucked you through it, brushed his fingers through your hair and mumbled how well you’d done, how perfect you were.

his thumb left your overly sensitive clit, hand gripping your hip instead and he gave a few sloppy, erratic thrusts, hips faltering as his stomach tensed. he came with a low groan, one that sent ripples of pleasure through you and made your already pulsing hole, tighten around him even more. he spilled into the condom, hid his face back in your neck as his thrusts got slower. he pushed into you a few more times, not wanting to leave your warm snug walls despite the fact he was just as sensitive as you were.

steve let himself relax on top of you, breath hot and sticky against your neck as your both fought to come down from your somewhat intense orgasms. you were warm and a little sweaty, every part of your body a little too sensitive even as he brushed his fingers up and down your arm. you were both quiet, fighting for breath and you whimpered when steve pulled out of you, a strange empty feeling taking over. he pushed up on to his elbows, met your eyes and sent you a lopsided, tired smile. he was sweaty, cheeks flushed, hair messy and you wanted to pull him in for a kiss, wanted to push him on to his back and fuck him until you couldn’t walk.

“are you okay? you’re not- you’re not hurt or anything? it was alright?”

“i’m perfect, steve, you were perfect.” you kissed him, grinned brightly as you pushed his hair back off his forehead. “i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to get enough of you.”

“oh really?” he laughed, tickled his fingers into your side as you giggled and shuffled beneath him, heart swelling as he pressed kiss after kiss to your face. “i’m sure we can come to some sort of arrangement.” the playfulness fell away, his nose rubbing lightly over yours, his gaze tender. “but it can wait, need to get you cleaned up. you might be a little sore, i think i might have been a bit too hard but i can run us a bath and you can relax and we’ll watch that movie?” the kiss he dropped to your forehead was all affection, clear adoration in his face and his tone.

“sounds amazing, stevie.”

#stranger things #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #joe keery #joe keery fic #joe keery one shot #joe keery fluff #joe keery smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #joe keery x reader

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morganski-19 · 9 months

Text

Things I Won't Say When I'm Sober

inspired by this post by @imfinereallyy. I saw this post ages ago but literally just found this idea in my drafts and decided to finally write it,

part 2

Steve lies across the floor of Eddie’s new trailer, mind hazy, with Robin’s limbs haphazardly laying on him. He’s mindlessly running his hands along the carpet, feeling the soft fiber under his hand. Eddie’s hand reaches into his vision as he passes Steve the joint. He really doesn’t need to take anymore, his muscles already relaxed more than they have been in a while, and his mind is slipping into that territory that might give him a panic attack if he goes too far. But he’s with people he trusts and Robin will cut him off before any of that happens, if he won’t cut himself off before then.

He blows the smoke up into the air as Eddie takes back the joint. Running his hand across the carpet again, he brushes against something different. Curious, he starts playing with it, rolling it between his fingers, tugging on it a bit to see if he can tell what it is.

“Stevie,” Eddie slurs. Steve hums. “Why are you playing with my hair?”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “This is your hair?” He tugs on the strand between his fingers a bit.

“Yes, and I'd appreciate it if you’d stop pulling on it.”

“It’s so soft,” Steve finds himself saying, not dropping the hair between his fingers, instead picking up more.

Robin bursts out laughing. “How high are you, dingus?”

Steve shrugs. “Pretty high I guess.”

“Could you stop playing with my hair?” Eddie complains, rolling away a bit and almost kicking Steve in the face.

He moves his hand away from Eddie’s hair and brings it up behind his head. Robin shifts, rolling off of Steve and starting to stand up.

“Where are you going?” Steve complains, needy.

“The bathroom,” Robin deadpans. “Why?”

The giggles kick in and Steve struggles to get the words out. “Cause I have a secret and I need to tell you it.”

The secret in question was Steve’s crush on Eddie. Something he’s buried deeper than he’s willing to admit and something that he’s barely come to accept. But something about the safe feeling of his friends and the weed loosening his thoughts to stop the denial and face the facts made him want to tell her. It’s not the first time that he’s thought that his attraction to Eddie was a fact and not just the desire to be friends. That it wasn’t normal for people to fantasize about kissing their best friends and sharing the same bed all the time.

It took time for Steve to realize that these thoughts were ok for him to have. That he could have feelings for girls in the past while also having feelings for a boy now. That it’s ok for him to be having feelings for a boy at all. He is who he is, and who he likes won’t change that. The Steve he was when he dated girls isn’t different from the Steve who has a crush on a boy. It’s all him, even if he didn’t know he was capable of doing it.

The main problem was that he hadn’t told Robin about it yet, and it seems that his hazy mind decided that now was the best time. Now, when Eddie, the person he has a crush on, is still in the room.

“And this secret is hilarious?” Robin joins in on the giggles but tries to hide it. “Can you tell me the secret so I can go to the bathroom?”

Steve shakes his head while giggling more, now realizing his mistake and thinking it’s hilarious rather than embarrassing. “No.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “No?”

“Mhm. Can’t tell you.”

“So you have a secret that you need to tell me but can’t tell me. Why is that, Steven?” Robin very annoyingly asks, only pulling out the full name when she wants him to get to the point.

“Eddie’s in the room,” Steve says like it’s the simplest fact there is.

Eddie sits up. “Why can’t I know your secret?”

“Cause it’s a Robin secret. You don’t get to know those.”

Robin rolls her eyes again while Eddie makes an overexaggerated offended look. “I’m going to the bathroom, you two can figure this out while I’m gone.”

Steve stops his giggles to roll over and grab at Robin’s legs as she gets up, attempting to stop her from leaving. She steps out of his grasp and makes her way out of the room. He lays there pouting for a second before bursting out in laughter again.

“So keeping secrets from me is so funny now isn’t it,” Eddie pouts.

“I am so high,” he manages to get out between giggles as he rolls back onto his back.

Eddie rolls his eyes before laying down next to him, their heads next to each other this time. “Yeah, I can tell. You don’t normally laugh this much when you’re not.”

The weed is doing nothing to stop the blush that covers Steve’s face, though his face was plenty red before so maybe it would hide it. “You notice that about me?”

“I notice a lot of things about you, Steve,” Eddie responds sincerely, turning his head to look Steve in the eyes.

Maybe it’s the high, maybe it isn’t, but Steve can’t help but think that the look Eddie has in his eyes is the same one that he finds himself getting every time he looks at Eddie. The simple want of something more that can never be. To be more than all that they are, friends.

A look that tells Steve that if he leaned in for a moment, maybe Eddie wouldn’t back away. Maybe he would let it happen. Maybe he would lean in too. Maybe all of the things Steve has accepted that he wants could come true.

Not that he would even try right now. He’s high, Eddie’s high. No person’s first kiss with someone they really care about should be like this. It should be in a state where they could remember it. Where they could look back on it in the future and remember every detail. Or maybe it should be done when he’s a little bit high. Maybe then he won’t second guess himself at the last minute and actually go through with it. Then if it ends badly, he has the chance of forgetting the little details but is left with the knowledge that this is hopeless. Then he can get over it.

He has the feeling that getting over Eddie would be hard though. The feelings that bubble over in his chest every time he’s around Eddie are all but proof of that. This is different, more than he’s felt about someone in a long time. The most he’s felt about a person since Nancy.

That scares him, still scares him. That he can look at another person the way he looked at her. Or more, he can feel something for someone on that level again, but this time completely differently. He likes Eddie for different reasons then he liked Nancy, but it doesn’t change the way he feels about him. This affection, this crush, this almost love is deep. Steve doesn’t want to mess it up this time.

“I’m not that offended that you won’t tell me you’re secret,” Eddie whispers, like this moment isn’t meant to be heard even though they’re the only ones in the room. “I know that you and Robin share pretty much everything. So if it’s meant for her ears only I understand. I just hope you might be able to tell me one day.”

“Eddie, I-” Steve stammers, cut off by the sound of Robin entering the room again.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #ficlet #cw: smoking #angst #getting together #but not yet #pining #things i wont say when i’m sober #cw smoking

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eddiemania · 2 years

Text

Babysitter

Part two of "Babysitter"

Description: Babysitting Eddie the Freak Munson's little brother was something you genuinely did not expect to be doing this summer (and him watching you while wandering around shirtless was surely not in your plans)

Warnings: smut, babysitter!reader, grinding, fingering, drugs, skirt kink

"Seriously?! The damn newspaper?" you groaned, throwing the document down on the table where both your parents sat. They observed your furious movements with confusion and annoyance before your mother spoke up.

"I don't get why you're so upset. Where did you think you got all the other jobs from?" she questioned as your dad remained silent, "Well, certainly not from here!" your mouth dropped.

You couldn't believe your eyes.

This summer your parents your mom, decided it would be a brilliant idea if you stopped simply "suffocating yourself on that damn bed" as she specifically called it, and started doing something more productive, like the other teens your age did.

So instead of just washing cars or walking some neighbors' dogs, she thought babysitting random children around Hawkins would be so much fun that she was almost offended when you did not start jumping around with sparks of excitement at her vision.

Of course, despite the multiple arguments you two had, the final decision was made and the moment July approached, you already had your first appointment with the Whitlock family.

You didn't particularly dislike children, but the responsibility of a random goblin was terrifying enough. However, it did not seem half as bad when you got to negotiate the money you would get out of it.

And just like that, up until the 19th of July, you had gained over 280 dollars by babysitting twelve children in total. Honestly, it did seem quite odd that the words "y/n y/l/n is babysitting" spread around Hawkings so quickly, but now it all made sense.

Your mother had actually paid Hawkins Post to place your name and phone number under the services section, and you were furious.

You didn't know whether it was the fact that your name was just traveling around the town or that it did so without your consent, but the look on your face as you watched your mother was definitely out of a horror movie.

"Is it a bad time to tell you, you have another appointment?" she apologetically said before smiling, causing you to throw your hands up in the air, "Are you joking right now?!" you scoffed, pacing around the living room.

"Come on y/n it's money," your father finally spoke, making you roll your eyes. Your mother began approaching you, reaching inside the back pocket of her jeans before pulling out a small piece of paper, with a few words written on it, "Don't bail for no reason," she said and handed the note before leaving the room.

Once the paper was in your hands, you quickly glanced down at it, the words making your eyebrows connect with confusion.

"Wayne Munson, 34234 Forest Hills Trailer Park"

Wayne Munson? As in Eddie Munson?

Eddie The Freak Munson from your school?

Your eyes were wide and the only thing that kept you from letting out a tremendous groan was your father's presence inside the room. It couldn't possibly be true. It was probably a coincidence.

What were the chances for two different Munson families living in the same trailer park? Well... zero.

You rushed upstairs to your room, spinning around as you let the information sink in. You knew well what the entire school thought about Eddie and his interests and even if you weren't part of the "Mocking Eddie the freak" club, you certainly had no desire to go anywhere near his place.

You never got the chance to have a normal conversation with the guy, -well, except that one time your teacher made you pair up with him so that he wouldn't fail the chemistry project- but from what was going around, he wasn't anything other than a wasted, creepy, drug dealer who finally got some attention after the infamous 'Reefer Rick' himself went M.I.A.

But considering the situation, that man, Wayne, would not ask you to babysit Eddie, which meant he had another kid living with him in that trailer, something you were confident no one else knew about.

"The appointment is from 7:00pm to 12:00am. Five hours or fifty dollars, depending on what makes you want to go," your mother interrupted your thoughts by knocking on the door.

"Ten an hour? I've gotten fifteen once," you rolled your eyes, trying to sound logical, "You've also once got seven an hour, yet you did not complain," she fired back at you, to which you groaned, "Mom-"

"y/n ten an hour is more than enough for someone that lives in one of Forest Hill's trailers." she glanced down at you with a disapproving look towards your behavior before you sighed in defeat.

"So?"

"This is the last job I'm taking, deal?" you smiled, "y/n-"

"Deal?" you cut her off.

"Fine,"

☾

Three hours had approximately passed since then. You looked down at your watch, which pointed at 6:45pm. Forest Hills was about ten minutes from your house, so quickly, you grabbed a skirt and a t-shirt from your chair, took your bike's locker keys, and rushed downstairs.

The way to the Trailer Park was easier than you expected, with all the streets surrounding it being almost empty, with no sign of actual residents.

You glanced down at the information again the moment you got off your bike.

"34231... 32... 33..." you mumbled under your breath as you looked around.

34234.

You took a good look at it. It wasn't anything too odd, just a simple trailer with some junk laying outside of it. The van he always came to school with was parked outside. The railings towards his door were old and rusty.

Random deflated balls and toys together with squeezed cans of beer were thrown under and in front of the stairs and a few empty glasses sat alone on the picnic table shelter.

You took a deep breath before slowly approaching the railings, making sure no one you could possibly know was around by any chance.

Once you were certain, you placed your fist on the door, cautiously knocking three times, but there was no response. You knocked, again and again, frowning at the lack of reaction.

The moment you were about to step away, though, a loud groan caught your attention. "Come here, you little shit!" a familiar voice yelled whilst you heard two loud pairs of footsteps running around in your direction.

"Ricky!"

The door was opened, and your gaze was immediately drawn down. There stood a little boy with curly hair and big brown eyes staring at you as he bit the hem of his 'Snorks' themed t-shirt.

"Hello little guy," you beamed, quickly bending down to play with his fluffy hair. You could obviously tell the Eddie Munson was the one standing behind the boy, but you simply didn't have the courage to peek up just yet.

"Hi," the little boy smiled widely, his two front teeth missing. Your heart melted as you observed his puffy cheeks, "What's your name mister?" you asked in a childish tone when he began jumping around, "Ricky," he said, immediately running back inside the house, losing him off your sight.

You swallowed, getting off your feet and feeling tense the moment your eyes caught his. "Hey," Eddie smiled awkwardly, gesturing for you to get inside, "Hi," you forced a gentle smile, finally getting in the trailer.

You inspected the place. It was genuinely not bad. A few band posters and an impressive amount of caps on the wall caught your attention immediately. A few toy cars were thrown around together with random bags and boxes of delivered food.

"Thanks for coming here, I really don't know how to handle him on my own," he said, as you looked at his eyes seemingly traveling across your body, examining you, or rather your skirt.

"Yeah, no problem," you only said, picking up a toy from the ground. "Do you live here alone?" you proceeded to question, being unable to tell if anyone else was there.

He sat down on the couch before shaking his head, "I live with my uncle Wayne, but he's away for a couple of days, and looking after Ricky hasn't been much of a success." he rubbed his temples.

"Oh, I thought your uncle called me," you replied which made him avoid your eyes, "Well that was me. I know we never -like- interact at school since you know," he rubbed the back of his neck, "You're you and-" he finally glanced at you, "I am me,"

As he was about to continue, you cut him off, "It's okay Eddie," you managed to let out, catching him off guard, "I get it,"

"What's your name?" Your eye contact with him broke the moment Ricky appeared from behind his leg as he still gripped it, "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you, Ricky!" you smiled when his little hands were wrapped around your torso, hugging you.

"Hey, Ricky!" Eddie tried to stop him, but you laughed it off, making him understand it was okay.

The boy sat next to you, taking the toy you were holding off your hands. "This is Mr. bubbles," he spoke and started rumbling about it for approximately five minutes.

You and Eddie awkwardly sat and listened to him, except your mind thinking about other things. He was definitely not as bad as you expected from the little seconds of interaction you had with him but you still didn't want to rush your expectations.

After about half an hour of you looking after the little boy playing around and Eddie doing something that you couldn't really see in the kitchen, he finally spoke up.

"Is it okay if I go take a shower?" he questioned. He obviously hadn't hired a babysitter before and you could tell, "Yeah, no problem,"

Ricky then immediately dragged you down on the floor with him as he lied on his belly, making you beam, "I want big curly hair like Diddie" he spoke when the bathroom door closed.

"Like who?" you frowned with confusion, unable to understand some of his words, "My brother, Diddie" he replied, pointing towards the door, "Oh!" you messed his hair a little.

You then took a good look at him once again. His hair had curls, just like Eddies but they were significantly shorter, almost like an outgrown buzz-cut.

"Are you growing them out?" you smiled and asked, but he shook his head, "Dad doesn't like long hair," he responded as his hand drove a toy car across the floor, "But Eddie has long hair," you connected your eyebrows, "Dad doesn't like Eddie a lot," the boy finally glanced at you helping you understand what the situation was.

You immediately felt like it was your responsibility to change the subject, so you grabbed a toy and played with him for a couple of minutes.

The entire time you could hear the water running down the shower, so when it stopped, Ricky immediately ran towards the door, "Diddie!" he yelled with excitement, barely opening the door before Eddie shut it again, "Hey dude! Wait a second!" he laughed which strangely caught you off guard.

You had certainly never heard Eddie Munson laugh before. It was genuine and loud. You had been at his Trailer with him for about two out of the five hours you had to stay and although you did not interact much except for times to talk about his little brother, you could not understand why people despised him so much.

"Diddie!"

"Okay, okay! I'm done," you looked outside the window, only listening to his voice leaving the bathroom, "What's all the eagerness? Is y/n torturing you?" he looked at you as he tried to get your attention.

You turned your head with a smile, "Hey!" you laughed but your brain stopped working when you realized he only wore a towel low on his waist.

His chest and arms had various kinds of tattoos. Tattoos you couldn't see before. One of them began at the top of his inner hip, barely visible as the rest of it continued under the piece of fabric he covered himself with.

"y/n I'll have to contact Hawkins Post for child abuse," he teased, something he hadn't done before during your time together, "No, y/n is good," Ricky smacked his leg, making you let a small laugh out.

"That's Diddie abuse," he frowned at his brother before the little boy ran towards you, climbing and hiding behind your back. "Don't involve me in your vendetta," you smiled at Eddie, something he returned.

God, did he look oddly good? His pick necklace was the only thing on his torso and his back was perfectly defined. You couldn't help but keep on staring at that tattoo on his hip, but when he called your name, blood rushed through your cheeks, the thought of him catching your stare frightening you.

"Yes?" you cleared your throat, "I think we should put that big ol' guy to sleep," he softly laughed, his gaze falling on the little boy behind you having his eyes shut. You immediately glanced at your watch, was it already 9:00pm?

You nodded before gently taking Ricky's hand, having Eddie lead you to the child's bedroom which appeared to be pretty simple. He had a little bed with barriers on the side. Once you saw them, your head turned to Eddie.

"He is a pretty energized sleeper," he chuckled, watching you from the door. You smiled, nodding in response, "You can wait outside, I'll be okay," you then spoke, watching him leave and close the door behind him.

"y/n are you gonna stay here?" Ricky asked, opening his eyes slightly, "Yeah for a little while," you nodded, realizing you had to be alone with Eddie for the hours you had left.

Usually, the parents were away leaving you alone inside their house, which meant you could either relax or maybe play some music, but this time, you clearly weren't alone...

By the time you finished thinking, you noticed the boy had shut his eyes entirely. Your gaze fell on the planet at the end of his bed, which you took in your grip before tucking him in and making sure the barriers were attached properly.

You left the room and made your way through the tiny hall right into the living room where the lights had been turned off, only the TV playing in the background.

Eddie sat on the couch, apparently clothed, a cigarette between his lips as he observed the device with boredom. "He's asleep," you spoke, making him turn his attention to you, "I'm so thankful y/n," he said as he approached you, his presence inches away from yours.

Eddie suddenly smiled and raised his index finger at you, motioning you to wait for a second as he passed by you, making his way towards the small spaced kitchen.

You slowly walked over to the couch where he was sitting, shortly listening to his footsteps approach you.

"Since your shift ends in like two hours I figured you might be a little hungry," he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, placing a homemade pizza on the wooden table in front of you right before squishing the cigarette he was holding between his fingers into the ashtray.

"You made this?" you smiled, watching him nod in response before sitting down right next to you, with quite a cautious space of about one and a half people.

"Do you um..." he swallowed, pointing at the old, half-damaged TV, "Do you want to watch something? Hammer House of Horror starts at 9:30," he questioned, "Oh my God! I love this series!" you smiled widely, which he immediately returned.

"To be honest I didn't expect you to babysit," he said, your head turning to him, "Me neither. My mother pressured me to do it so that I wasn't inside the house 24/7," you responded, rolling your eyes as you slightly slid on the end of the couch, reaching to grab a piece of pizza as you felt your skirt slightly hovering higher on your thigs.

Of course, he looked. Every slight movement caught his attention even though it shouldn't. "24/7? Don't you hang out with your friends?" he tried to not be stiff, but you could tell how much he despised your friend group by even mentioning it.

"Well everyone's kinda busy, I guess," you responded while looking at your white converse, "You guess?" the boy frowned, making you sigh, "When it's not for alcohol and popularity, they have no good intention," you took a bite, surprised at how good it was.

"And I'm the loud freak," he rolled his eyes as he got up, moving towards a cabinet. You didn't respond. Even if you never told anything bad about him, you would always listen to your friends' conversations regarding him and his tendencies, maybe even chuckle at some of the comments.

"Is it okay if I smoke?"

You glanced down at him waiting for a response. Considering he was already smoking, you knew it wasn't about nicotine this time, but you didn't mind, it was his place anyway.

He approached you, rolling his blunt the moment he sat down and you quietly observed him.

He was wearing a black, sleeveless Iron Maiden shirt and a pair of sweat shorts. You were used to him wearing his jeans and his leather jackets, so that comfortable look was new to you.

"Do you want the first?" he asked, stealing your attention away from his clothes. You had never done drugs before so you kindly declined, watching him inhale slowly before letting out a heavy amount of smoke, his head falling back.

"You are an excellent chef," you beamed as he turned his eyes to you, "Oh yeah? Are you sure the blunt didn't get to you?" you both laughed, noticing him move closer towards you.

You sat there quietly for about two minutes watching the ads on the TV before you finally spoke up, "I didn't know you had a brother," you said and he smiled, "Yeah... Ricky's my soft spot, but he lives with my father, so I don't get to see him often," he responded, making you question whether you should continue this conversation or not.

"How come? If you don't mind me asking of course!" you move your hands quickly, making him smile, "It's okay," he chuckled, inhaling once again, "Well Ricky's young and I am not. I came here to live with Wayne since I couldn't take his shit anymore," Eddie shrugged, making you nod.

"Could I... Could I give it a try?" you suddenly questioned before he gave you a confused look, "Are you sure?" the curyhead asked, making you nod.

He approached you, his face inches away from yours as his hand was brought up to your lips, his big fingers holding the blunt right between them. You have him a quick look before lowering your face and placing the rolled paper between your pink lips.

"Now inhale," he instructed you, his voice so low, it was almost like a whisper. As you did so, his eyes didn't leave yours for a second. You didn't know where you found the courage to maintain the contact, but you did, and it felt... different.

"Good," he pulled his hand away, letting you exhale, a few coughs escaping your mouth, "Who would have thought," he smiled, "Eddie Munson smoking weed with y/n y/l/n on his couch," he grinned.

"You're right, I'm supposed to be working here," you rub your forehead with guilt before pulling away, about to stand up, "Hey," his hand gently grabs yours, making you sit back down, "Ricky's sleeping, just talk with me, here," his eyes were heavy and his lips slightly curved.

His lips were full and vibrant.

"My mom will slaughter me," you slightly giggle, grabbing his hand before inhaling once again, which was the first time you ever had physical contact with each other.

He liked it. He carefully observed your face with his fingers in front of it. Your hands both grasped his bigger one, and your expression numbed when the smoke escaped your lips. He really liked it.

"Not bad, hm?" Eddie smiled, noticing you relaxing more, "Not bad at all," you whispered back. "Is your mom going to pick you up?" the boy then questioned before you shook your head, "Then you can stay a little longer so I have company,"

You nod with a slight blush on your cheeks that was thankfully invisible due to the low lighting of the room.

"You're really nice. Sweeter than all of my friends," you admit, making him touch his chest dramatically, "y/n! You're showing kindness towards a small, little peasant, like me!" Eddie spoke, making you gasp, "Oh, shut up," you laugh with him.

"For real though. I wish we knew each other earlier than this stupid mess of High School,"

He lets your words sink in before his eyes turn to you, "We can learn each other now," he speaks quietly, making you turn your head, "But I get why you might hold back," he adds.

"Weird, satanic, freak Eddie Munson and a cheerleader from Carver's circle," he laughs, exhaling smoke. You roll your eyes, almost breaking the distance between your bodies, "You're way cooler than Jason, for the record," you smile.

"Yeah, that's enough blunt for you," he chuckles making you groan, "I'm serious,"

"A little determined, aren't we now, y/n?" his face turns to you, inches away from yours and your breath hitches, "Is it pity, or is it something else?" he asks.

"Huh? It's nothing, I'm just being honest," you quickly respond, "You know what I think?" Eddie smiled, his face even closer this time, your lips barely away from touching, "I think it's the older guy that mommy and daddy don't approve of situation," he whispers, "What? No, I-"

"Are you sure?" his eyes examine yours from that close-up distance you two were in. You breathe heavy, smelling his freshly shampooed hair, his perfume, and weed all in one. You rethink his words. You were a senior too with just two years of difference from him. He was always mocked by every other person your age and yet there you were, smoking with him, only knowing him for barely a day.

Without thinking of it, you slightly move your head, your lips brushing over his, when his hands grab the back of your head, slightly pushing you closer to him.

It felt different. It wasn't just a plain kiss. You were kissing Eddie Munson and maybe he was right, It did turn you on that it was him.

"Come here," he whispers, sitting back on the couch before placing your legs on each side of him, placing you on top of him. He softly licks your upper lip, waiting for permission to enter your mouth, and you immediately give it to him.

As your tongues explore each other's mouths, his hands study your body cautiously, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. He carefully caresses your back, only over the elastic of your skirt.

His lips gently abandon yours as he begins to trace a path on your soft jaw, slowly moving toward the beginning of your neck, "Eddie," you breathe out, your hands around his neck, and your eyes shut closed.

His name sounds good when you say it, it makes him feel things he didn't even know were possible, "Sweetheart, can I touch you?" he speaks against your neck, not breaking contact once.

"Yes, please," you say with satisfaction and he grins, "So polite all the time," Eddie says. All you can hear is the sloppy kisses on your skin and the low-volume TV when you feel his large hands sliding down your body, grabbing your ass with lust.

Your skirt dances as he caresses you, and you instantly feel his erection. The more he touches you, the more it grows. You softly moan, taking his hands into yours as you guide them on your touch-starved thighs.

"I've been craving those pretty thighs ever since I first saw you in that little cheer skirt," he sighs, squeezing your legs as he pulls away from your neck, looking at you right in the eyes, "You never noticed me y/n, no matter what I did," his hands travel higher from where you placed them, under the hem of your white skirt.

"No matter how many times I had to get on top of tables and shout like a maniac, you never noticed me," he begins kissing your lips softly again, his index finger wandering around the sides of your little panties.

"I always noticed you, Eddie," you reply against him, your voice shattering the more his fingers played with your underwear, "Yeah, just not the way I wanted you to,"

Eddie immediately grabs your hips under your skirt, pushing you down to put pressure on his aching erection, making himself let out a soft moan as your clothed cunt hovers above his tight sweats.

"Oh God," you whine, holding tighter onto him, "Is it okay if-" as he's about to finish the sentence, his house phone interrupts him, making him groan in frustration, "Sorry about that," he rolls his eyes as he keeps on kissing your collar bones, "Eddie, wait,"

The curlyhead immediately stops, looking at you concerned, "It could be my mother," you bite your lower lip nervously, "Do you want to pick it up?" he hums but you shake your head as you begin to peck his neck carefully, "Oh beautiful, that's it," he keeps grinding you against him when the phone finally stops ringing.

His hands keep exploring, suddenly stopping above your shirt to look at you for permission. You give it to him, about to help take it off but he stops you, "Come here," he picks you up off the couch when you place your palm over your mouth to avoid making any sound as you pass the hall.

He places you on his bed and instantly locks the door behind him. The moment Eddie turned around your shirt was off, and his lips slightly parted, eyes fixated on your breasts.

He sits on the bed, crawling towards you the moment he begins placing small kisses on your chest, cupping you over your bra, "Sit on top of me pretty," he groans as he places his back against some of his pillows, watching you climb on him.

"Eddie," you say as he kisses and sucks on your breasts, "Yes beautiful?" the boy responds, his eyes looking up at you, "I-" you grind faster, "Please I need you," your hands lift up your own skirt and he breaths heavily at the view.

"Are you sure baby?" he questions one last time before you nod. His hands make you turn around, your ass against his clothed hips as you still remain on top of him. You're confused at the sudden turn, but you trust him.

"How many times I've thought about you..." his hand is under your skirt again, playing with the hem of your panties as your back remains against his chest, "Did things thinking about you," he pushed his hand in your underwear, his middle finger gently rubbing your clit as his mouth remains against your ear.

"I once skipped class because of my filthy thoughts about your pretty little body," you moan when he begins to rub you faster, your back arching in pleasure as he leaves a couple of kisses on your earlobe.

"My pretty little cheerleader, aren't you now?" he moves further down your cunt, caressing in and gently playing with it before circling your entrance, "Why didn't you approach me?" you struggle to let out between your quiet whimpers, "I'm a little shy sometimes y/n,"

His middle finger enters you fully, causing you to let out a loud moan. He begins taking a pace, which keeps getting quicker and quicker. "So shy," he keeps finger fucking you while his other hand holds yours over your waist just so that you stay in place.

"Oh God, Eddie," you nag, your free hand grabbing the one fucking you, just to make him understand you needed one more digit. He grins, adding his ring finger only to watch you fall apart more.

"I can't wait for my dick to be in there," he whispers, the hand that held you still letting go off your waist and instead, finding its way to your clit, where it kept on rubbing.

You moan faster and faster, pushing your ass against him just so you can hear his groans and curses coming out of his lips, "Can I come?" you question and he moans, "What a well-behaved girl," Eddie praises, keeping on with his movements, "Help yourself, beautiful," he smiles, allowing you to come all over his thick, ring-filled fingers.

You become a moaning mess, falling onto his bed as you try to catch your breath, your stomach rising up and down from the heaviness of your breaths.

Eddie smiles with satisfaction as he carefully places himself on top of you, slowly licking and kissing your bare belly. You quickly reach behind your back, unclasping your bra before throwing it on the floor next to you.

He almost chokes before kissing higher, finally able to place your nipple between his lips and suck, causing your back to tingle from the sensation.

Your fingers get lost in the maze of his hair as you gently push him closer to you. He moans. He loves it. Every single second of his face is buried inside your breasts is like heaven to him.

His hands carefully climb up your skirt, slowly pulling your panties off before placing them inside his pocket, "I might need those, you know," you giggle, feeling his smile grow against your breast, "I'm sure you have plenty of other ones that I can also steal," he chuckles, releasing you off his mouth to let you observe all the hickeys he had painted your body with.

"I'll hang that on my wall," he gives you a boyish grin that makes you laugh, "You are so stupid, Munson,"

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #babysitter au

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Note

Touchy Eddie with f reader who is not used to being touched/hugged and gradually begins to discover that she likes Eddie's touch and cuddling with him

Ofc Eddie is so patient with her

thank you for your request :) a note: eddie picks reader up in this one!

You have no warning. Not even the thud of Eddie's sneakers on the dirt behind you, because damn him, he's sneaky. All you feel are arms around your waist, strong and firm, then your feet are off the ground and you're hauled back into someone's chest.

"Boo," Eddie's voice is startling against your ear, low and dramatically raspy as he hoists you off the ground. Your indignant squeal only seems to fuel his amusement, and he twirls you around once before letting you plop back onto the foliage-covered walkway to his trailer.

"I was gettin' something from the van," He explains his absence in the trailer you'd just knocked on, "'Left my jacket in there after last night's show."

"Oh," You supply lamely, standing stiff where he'd dropped you, "Okay."

He's already halfway to his trailer door when you speak, but he stills and turns to you with a confused smile. One of his brows is quirked upwards, his teeth glinting in the pale sunlight that streams through the clouds above.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" You insist, your cheeks burning terribly. You're sure that he picks up on the bouncing of your leg against the ground below you, "I'm just tired."

"Well come on," He urges, stepping back towards you to grab your hand and tug you to his door, "We can nap inside."

You follow him silently, your hand stiff in his grasp. He pulls you through the door without inquiring, though, so you think you're safe.

You're not.

The moment the door closes behind you, he pounces.

"So," He flings his jacket onto the couch inside, yanking you closer to him by your intertwined hands and setting his free hand on your waist, "What's really wrong?"

He's inches from your face, his eyes flitting back and forth between your own, his teeth grating his bottom lip.

"Nothing," Your voice wobbles, a fire searing your cheeks, "Nothing's wrong."

"Liar." He accuses, though it's not angrily so. He drags you to the couch, plopping down right onto his discarded jacket and throwing an arm over the back, "Talk to me."

You have a hard time sitting without brushing your legs with his that are spread over the entire couch. You swear he's making it hard for you on purpose, but as you tuck yourself into the tiny corner of the couch that isn't occupied, his smile drops.

"You can touch me, you know." He jokes confusedly, then after one glance at your face, "Oh, shit."

"I don't-"

"That's it, isn't it?" He pulls his legs from where they're on either side of you, tucking them up underneath his butt as he kneels facing you, "You don't like to be touched."

"That's not it," You look away from him bashfully, "It's not- not, like, a dislike. I just need to get used to it."

"Oh." He nods once, expression uncertain, "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"No!" You're quick to shake your head, "You don't. Sometimes it's just more than I'm used to, though."

"Like when I tackled you outside?" Eddie finally figures out the reason behind your uneasiness, a sheepish tone to his voice.

"Yeah." You let out a weak laugh, "I'm sorry, Eddie."

"For what, sweetheart?"

He asks the question so genuinely, where you expected judgement. You know Eddie's touchy, moreso than anyone you've ever met, and it feels like you're letting him down to admit that you can't handle it yet.

"For- for being weird like this."

"Weird," He scoffs, throwing his head back in mock-surprise, "You're not weird. I'm a lot to handle."

"I- I wanna handle you, though." You insist, "Just take it slow, maybe?"

"Oh yeah?" He quirks an amused brow up, a smirk flitting over his face, "What parts of me do you wanna handle, babe?"

"Eddie!" You groan, burying your face in your hands while he snickers.

"Just teasing," He reaches out, a comforting hand on your knee, "Is this okay?"

You glance down at the gentle contact, feeling the warmth sponging through you at his touch. It pleasant, seeping through your bones and setting butterflies free in your tummy.

"Yeah," You breathe incredulously, his smile growing at the shine in your eyes, "Yeah, Eddie, that's perfect."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson hc #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson dialogue #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fanfiction

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roanniom · 1 year

Note

Live footage of Eddie in the sensitivity fics

A Study in Touch

Virgin!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, suggestive flirting and touching, masturbation

You’re tutoring him late one night at his trailer, one of his last ditch efforts to finally graduate. Wayne is gone for his overnight shift so the two of you are alone.

“Can we pleeease do something else? I’m bored and if I look at another flash card I’m gonna die,” Eddie says dramatically, pushing the stack of cards away and laying himself performatively across your lap on the bed, making you laugh.

You two have been casual friends for years, crossing paths in drama club and classes and the like. When you graduated and he stayed behind for another senior year, Eddie would meet you from time to time at the diner where you worked after days full of taking classes at the community college.

With Eddie splayed over you, chest on your lap, face planted on the mattress next to you, you chuckle fondly down at your friend.

“Well do you have any suggestions for an alternate activity?” you ask.

“Anything where I don’t have to use my brain,” he groans.

“That shouldn’t be too difficult, you never use your brain,” you tease. He goes to retort, but at that exact moment you drop your hand on his back and smooth it up the length of his spine, making all of Eddie’s muscles suddenly seize up.

You freeze as a result of his sudden tension and hold your breath. Not sure what you did wrong.

“It’s…it’s okay that I don’t use my brain.” Eddie says, voice slightly shaky as he tries to pretend like he hadn’t just reacted oddly to your touch. “If I was smart, I wouldnt need to pay you for tutoring, so I wouldn’t question it if I were you.”

You laugh at that before tentatively placing your hand back on the plane of his back. Eddie doesn’t tense up this time. In fact, he seems to melt down against you. Perhaps relieved you had given him a second chance with your touch.

“You don’t pay me, Munson,” you contradict.

“Should I?” Eddie asks, turning on his side where he’s laying in your lap so that he can look at you. He’s got that cocky grin on his face that you love when the two of you banter. You’d never know that he had gone rigid under your hand just a moment ago if you hadn’t felt it yourself.

“Don’t make me sound like a hooker,” you say, sliding your hand from his back over his shoulder to slap at his chest. He chuckles but when you go to pull your hand away after the slap, he grabs it and presses it back against his chest.

Your eyes dart up to his face to register the slight panic present in his eyes. His palm is a little sweaty over the back of your hand and you can feel the sped up stutter of his heartbeat, thumping in his chest (a chest much more solid than you’d anticipated).

“You’re too pretty to be a hooker,” he says quietly. He’s back to seeming more nervous than you’ve ever seen him before, despite the usual layer of cockiness, and you wait with bated breath as he continues, though your concern is assuaged when he gives you a lopsided grin. “At the very least you’re an expensive escort.”

“An escort?” you laugh incredulously. Eddie nods.

“Yeah. Like a real high class one.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Top shelf, baby.”

The endearment doesn’t really faze you as Eddie has always confidently called you every sweet name under the sun. The casual flirting feels comfortable and normal and - if you’re being honest with yourself - it seems like it’s part of something that’s been swelling between the two of you for a long time now.

The only thing that clues you in that Eddie is more than a little anxious is the fact that you can feel the thundering beat of his heart under your hand.

“And here I thought I was someone you respected,” you muse, using your hand on his chest to push him on his back on the bed. His eyes widen significantly, widening still when you climb up to straddle his lap.

“I-I-I do…r-respect you,” he stutters, not even capable to pretending that he’s not startled by the development. His hands twitch at his sides. He’s clearly unsure if he should rest them on your thighs or not so you grab them and place them squarely on your hips.

“Do you? Because I’m pretty sure I walked in here to find a well ‘loved’ magazine open to a particularly sticky page with a naked woman on it who looked just like me.” You know you’re acting forward and impatient, but Eddie’s just so cute beneath you and you’re done waiting for him to make a move, especially when you’re so sure he wants you too.

“You saw…oh god. You saw that?” The realization dawning behind his eyes at your eyes words make him seem miserable all of a sudden. True regret and embarrassment replace the flustered flush that had colored his neck and cheeks just moments ago. This wasn’t the reaction you’d been hoping for. You’d assumed he’d proudly admit it or accuse you of something equally salacious. Anything other than the way he’s shrinking against the mattress in remorse.

You lean forward and cup the side of his face.

“No shh stop, I was only teasing,” you do your best to comfort. He seems more startled by your hand on his face than by the revelation, so that’s something at least.

“So…so you didn’t see…” he blinks up at you. You shake your head with a grin.

“Well no, I did see it. But I’m flattered,” you say with a chuckle. Eddie is beet red beneath you now but at least he settles enough to put his hands back on your thighs. You push further. “I’m right, right? You like her cuz she looks like me?”

Eddie swallows thickly, struggling to look at you till he forces his eyes to meet yours.

“I don’t have any pictures of you, so…” He tries his best to sound teasing. He really does. The corner of his mouth quirks up and everything. But you can see him cringe a little at his own words, probably apprehensive about your response. You bite your lip and gaze back down at him inscrutably before looking around the room.

“Aha,” you mutter to yourself, reaching over to grab the old beat up used Polaroid camera he had slung over the corner of his headboard by a worn leather strap. Eddie’s eyes go wide as you shift in his lap, lifting the camera up at a high angle and smiling, your free hand on his pelvis, dangerously close to…

Oh fuck.

He’s hard and you’re on his lap.

He’s hard and you’re on his lap and you just took a picture.

You pay him and his current internal freak out no mind while you pull the waiting picture from the slot, humming as you wait for it to develop and dry. When it’s done, you take a glance and grin wide before swinging yourself off his lap. Eddie is left grasping at air, disappointed in the loss of your warmth.

“Where…where are you going?” he asks as you gather your things, horrified he’s finally scared you off. With your bag slung over your shoulder you smile at him.

“It’s late, I think we’re done for the night. We can pick up tomorrow,” you say brightly. Before Eddie can feel too dejected, however, you drop the Polaroid picture face down on his thigh, leaning down to whisper in his ear. “And besides, I think you’ve got something to take care of now that you’ve got a picture of me.”

Your hand cups his hardened cock through his jeans then and Eddie all but yelps. You pull back from his ear, give him a final cheeky grin, and waltz out.

Eddie holds his breath till he hears the slam of the trailer door and the sound of your tires crunching gravel as you drive away. Then he looks at the Polaroid.

Shrouded in the customary background darkness of an instant flash photo, he’s greeted with the image of you, straddling him, his unmistakable erection bulging his jeans just at the apex of your thighs. And speak of your thighs, his big hands are on them, fingers depressing into the soft flesh in what reads on camera as much possessive and less desperate. His hellfire shirt is rucked up a bit to expose a little of his happy trail leading to his belt, but otherwise that’s all that was visible of Eddie. Of course, he was more interested in you.

The high angle gave the most perfect vantage point down the neckline of your shirt, making your tits look fantastic he literally has to drag a finger over his puffy over bitten bottom lip to catch any spit collecting. Your hand supports you by laying flat on his pelvis, just centimeters from his hard cock. Eddie drops his hand to that very same place now, almost certain he can still feel the phantom pressure of your own palm. The top frame of the image cuts off just below your eyes, something that saddens him but which affords you a little bit of anonymity on this compromising image. But his eyes zero in on your mouth. The way you’ve stuck out your tongue, biting down on it cheekily in a way that still doesn’t hide the smile threatening at the corners of your lips.

You were right. He does have something to take care of now.

That night he cums three separate times, each time fixating on a different part of the picture. He’s so spent and dehydrated afterwards that he just lays in his bed, sweaty and dazed in the early hours on the morning, staring at the picture. Oversensitive and over jerked cock finally dormant (aside from the occasional twitch), leaving him room to simmer in the warmth that spreads from thoughts of your voice, your laugh. Everything about you.

At dawn he finally throws himself out of bed and into the shower, determined not to smell or look like he’d spent the night masturbating his brains out when he finally sees you later.

But of course, under the stream of warm water thoughts of what you’d look like, body wet and eyes begging, came to him unbidden.

Yeah. He ended up needing a lot more time to make him presentable than he’d thought.

~*~

#Eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #virgin!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader

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unclewaynemunson · 1 year

Text

Pt2 to this post is here 🤗 | AO3 link

When Eddie stumbles out of his room the next day, still half asleep and purposefully headed towards the coffee machine, he notices a crumpled piece of paper on the table. He frowns when he sees it's the note he tossed in the trash a day earlier. It's folded open again, and there's a mysterious, slightly gross looking stain on it, but the number is still clearly readable.

He takes a good few seconds to stare at the digits, written neatly with a blue ballpoint, as if the guy was doing his very best to make sure that none of the numbers would be unreadable. He can't believe that Wayne is invested enough in this to get the note out of the trash for Eddie, even though Eddie already made more than clear how utterly uninterested he is in this Steve person. He shrugs, crumples the note back up again, and tosses it back into the trash.

It goes on like that for a while: every time Eddie wakes up or gets back home, the number is staring at him from the table, only to be crumpled in Eddie's fist again and again and again. Neither Wayne nor Eddie say anything about it; it becomes a tacid game of who can be the most stubborn, and they both know that both of them can keep that up for a very long time. Eddie knows he could just tear it up, or burn it, or poetically bury it at the base of a tree at the edge of the woods outside the trailer. But something's stopping him. It isn't the guy, or even the idea of the guy – he's sure as hell that this Steve wouldn't be for him at all. No, it's the memory of the look on Wayne's face after he gave Eddie the number, all excited and proud of himself. It's the knowledge of how immensely lucky he is to have an uncle like that, who supports him and loves him exactly the way he is, even actively wants him to be happy with another man. It's the flash of disappointment that crossed Wayne's face that first time Eddie made a whole show of throwing the note away. That's the reason he eventually, after almost a whole week of moving the note from trashcan to table and back again, finds himself standing at the phone with the piece of paper in his hand. The note has become truly disgusting by now, with all kinds of unrecognizable smudges on it, but thanks to Steve's clear handwriting, Eddie can still read all the digits.

It doesn't take long before 'Steve Harrington' picks up the horn on the other side.

'Hey, um, this is Eddie,' Eddie says, suddenly feeling awkward about the whole thing and wondering if he should've thought through what he was about to say to Steve. 'You met my uncle at a baseball game, last weekend?'

'Oh!' Steve sounds surprised. 'Eddie! Yeah, yes I did – Wayne, right?'

'Hmhm.'

'I didn't really expect a call anymore, to be honest,' Steve says.

'Yeah, sorry 'bout that,' says Eddie. 'Listen, to be honest, I'm not calling because I actually think this is gonna be something. From what I heard – not to sound like a dick or anything, I'm sure you're perfectly nice and all that – you just, totally don't sound like my type, you know? But my uncle won't drop it, and it'd probably make my life a whole lot easier if I could just prove to him that not every random queer guy he meets is a good match for me, so... Do you wanna meet up for coffee sometime? We can establish what a terrible match we are, I'll pay for your drinks, and then we can move on with our lives without any gnawing guilt or “what if”s playing around in our minds, and we'll never have to think about each other again. How does that sound?'

'Um...' There's a pause of a couple of seconds on the other side of the line, then a small sigh. 'I guess the free coffee sounds good?' It sounds more like a question than a statement, and suddenly, Eddie feels a bit stupid about the whole thing.

'I'm sorry,' he blurts out. 'I totally get it if it's not really what you expected of this. You met my uncle, and I know he's pretty awesome, and, like, wildly attractive and stuff, but if you expect me to be like him – that's not at all what I'm like, you know. So it'll probably be good for both of us to get that out of the way. To establish that we are not at all attracted to each other and happily move on.'

'Yeah, yeah, sure,' says Steve. 'Sounds good. I can't wait to find out what a terrible match you are for me.'

Eddie is relieved to hear the guy softly chuckling.

Pt3 Seriously the response to this silly lil AU has been sooo lovely, thank all of you so much for your kind words and hilarious tags, it made my day 🥹 Altogether the whole thing will probably get to +/-7 parts, so if you feel like that’s a bit much to keep following, please don’t feel awkward about telling me you’d like to be removed from the taglist, I don't wanna spam anyone!

Taglist: @phantypurple @love-kurdt @eddiemunsonswife @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @swimmingbirdrunningrock @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @yourebuckingkiddingme @th3-r4t-k1ng @messrs-weasley @moonshadows-13 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @xjessicafaithx @yournowheregirl @henderdads @lwhoscribbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon

#yes eddie is an idiot I don't make the rules #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #steddie #stranger things #fruity ficlet

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watchtowerindistress · 10 months

Text

(how) to hunt a hunter - sergei kravinoff x fem!reader

Summary: Kraven the Hunter was a myth equal to the Boogeyman. So the prestigious offer to hunt the legendary hunter sounded insane yet like a blast. Who were you as a Black Widow to say ‘no’ to that?

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: blood, violence, sexual tension, language, consumption of alcohol

Author’s note: Don’t judge me for inserting another Black Widow character again. 🤣 I thought it’d be fun to not go the typical route of Sergei hunting you, but you hunting him. Seriously, what is up with this trope, guys? I’m getting out of my hiatus which is rough and I want to just create something fun and not like a full-blown series. I apologize, I’m better with witty dialogue than fighting scenes, I’m terribly sorry. 😅

If you followed my we all have our secrets series, there’s a character who gets a slightly more prominent role in this one-shot than the mere mention. You know, I’m getting Morbius vibes from the trailer, but I guess it’s going be fun? 🤷🏻‍♀️

Read me on AO3

You wiped the damp layer off the mirror and winced at what you saw.

Your battered reflection was staring back at you. You shook your head and even that movement of your wet hair stroking the side of your neck irritated the scrapes and bruises even further.

Needing to breathe through the pain, you exhaled through your mouth, leaning forward on your elbows against the edges of the wash basin.

Wrath was burning in your eyes when you glared at your reflection. The broken blood vessel of your eye was a sore reminder of the absolute failure of a mission.

The blue eyes of Sergei Kravinoff shone on the display of your laptop to reveal your target. You hummed before gazing through the binoculars on the roof of the hotel you to keep track of the infamous Kraven.

Killing him would certainly be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Who could even say that about themselves?

Your phone alerted you to a new call coming in. Almost casually you took it without glancing at the screen. Your eyes were glued to the outside surroundings.

“Kind of in the middle of something,” you said with a bored voice.

“So it was you who took the assignment?”

You sighed. Your wrist almost dropped the field glass at hearing Talia’s voice.

“Did I take it away from you?”

A mirthful chuckle reverberated through the loud speaker. “No, I’m not that desperate to face the Hunter.”

Your eyes glanced sideways at that tidbit of information. “Is that fear? Didn’t know that the infamous White Widow was afraid of anything.”

“Not fear. Just a boring survival instinct.”

A pause lingered in the air.

“What is it for you? The prestige? Something fun?”

“Maybe I like a challenge.”

Talia’s voice turned severe to warn you of the danger. “Trust me on this. This man is no joke. He’s going to enjoy tearing you apart.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

Talia exhaled. “I knew his father. That family isn’t something to be trifled with. But no, if I want to rupture my lung, I’d rather do it on my own terms. But I also know I can’t stop you if you set your mind to something. All I can offer you are my contacts on sight, wherever you are.”

“No, thank you.” You chuckled. “And don’t pretend like you don’t even know where I am.”

“What can I say? I can’t reveal all my secrets. Stubborn to a fault,” Talia grumbled under her breath. “But I didn’t tell you the whole truth. About Kraven. He’s more animal than man. An absolute savage, mark my words, dushka.” [darling]

“Warning accepted. And to answer your question. It’s a challenge. That’s why I’m doing it.”

“He’d be more than just a challenge.”

“I’m counting on it.”

The unpredictability of this target revealed itself soon enough when Kravinoff didn’t seem to have a single pattern. It was confounding. People had patterns to orient themselves in their daily lives.

You didn’t understand it.

So, the fact that he entered a hotel bar raised your suspicions even more. It wasn’t your ideal preference with the amount of exit strategies the location offered. With wary eyes, you strolled towards the bar, instantly recognizing the broad shoulders clothed in a white dress shirt.

You sighed. This was truly bad. But it wouldn’t be the first time your cover was blown before the job could even start. A curious glance towards the amount of glasses behind the barkeeper made you smirk though.

Kravinoff slightly turned his head the closer you got before you finally sat on the stool, without any space separating you two. If the target was aware of the oncoming hit, then it didn’t matter keeping up pretences.

He pulled the amber-filled tumbler to his lips. “You want to have a drink before we get started? It’s on me.” If the file didn’t give it away before, the accent certainly revealed his Russian heritage.

“Sure. I love to celebrate.” You pointed a finger in the air and motioned for the barkeeper with a “I’ll have what he’s having, neat. Keep the bottle.”

Kravinoff snorted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s funny. Already certain of your victory?”

You watched the barkeeper pour two fingers into your glass before he wandered away. “Just enjoying myself during work.” You sipped a bit and instantly hummed from the smoky taste in your mouth.

Kravinoff raised an eyebrow. “You like?”

You shrugged. “You seem to have taste when it comes to certain refreshments.”

The man grunted at your sarcastic dig which satisfied you if you couldn’t use the moment of surprise to your advantage.

Kravinoff twirled his glass between his fingers. “Who sent you?” he inquired throatily.

“What? No foreplay?”

He slowly turned in his seat until his legs were spread and he was facing you head-on. His eyes were burning with intensity. In any other situation you would have deemed him beautiful in a gruff way. Kravinoff remained sullen and quiet, waiting for you to speak.

You rolled your eyes, knocking back your drink. “You’re no fun. Perhaps I intend to play with my prey before I have to kill it.”

His mouth twisted into a sinister smirk. “You think I’m your prey?” The last word sounded like he tasted something nasty on his tongue.

“Don’t insult me, pet.”

You furrowed your brows at the mention of that so-called term of endearment.

Kravinoff lazily laced his fingers together. “So, what are you? Regular mercenary? HYDRA agent? Talon?”

“Widow.”

Kravinoff tilted his head at that one word in intrigue. “Hmm. It’s an honor-”

Something akin to pride or satisfaction lingered in your stomach.

“-to kill you.”

You clenched your jaw at the self-assurance in his voice. “Well, in that case…” You dared to steal Kravinoff’s drink, just to one-up him for that arrogance of his.

“… give it your best shot, sweetheart.”

Before he could even attack you, you hit his larynx with the side of your hand.

Kravinoff omitted a pained grunt, shielding his throat. He jumped from his chair.

You broke his tumbler on the counter, slashing Kravinoff’s neck.

With an animalistic growl and burning eyes, he seized your neck, smashing your face against the counter. Something like a creak resounded underneath you with the force.

A whimper left your lips. You felt something sharp on your temple.

In one swift move, Kravinoff slid your head along the counter. Something wet trickled down the side of your face. You hissed at the sensation of glass shards against your skin.

You kneed the back of his knee, managing to subdue him and jump him until your legs wound around his neck, making him groan with your choking move.

Your balance shifted as Kravinoff tried to shake you off by grabbing your hips. Trying to take him by surprise and to throw him off his game, you jabbed your fingers into his eyeballs.

With a snarl, he rushed forward against the counter. You groaned in pain at the hardwood.

God, you were starting to hate this assignment.

You were starting to get used to Kravinoff’s burning eyes branding holes into you instead.

“Stop choking me.” There was something horrifying yet fascinating about his ocean blue eyes switching into amber-colored ones. The kind that hypnotized you and rendered you frozen.

“Kinda defeats the purpose of killing you,” you hissed as a retort. Although it certainly delighted you at seeing Kravinoff’s face getting red.

Almost in keeping you at suspense, he slowly yanked out a hunting knife from behind his back and making you grimace in return. There was something about his eyes that revealed what he wasn’t saying.

Seeing no way out of this without getting utterly mutilated by this hunter, you stretched out your arm behind you and grabbed a broken glass. You would learn to fight another day.

Kravinoff winced and eyed his shin darkly.

Without losing any time for him to fight back in retaliation, you pushed against his chest with your feet, making him fall back.

Knowing that the moment he would look up, you had already run.

“I heard you had an eventful day yesterday.”

The humorous statement drew a weary sigh from your lips. Your fingers clenched around the steering wheel at the mere reminder of the mission. Although you didn’t need it since there was nothing that could make you forget with every glance in the mirror or every movement of your muscles.

You inhaled deeply. “You know, it’s funny, when you were dead, the phone remained silent. Now I can’t get rid off you.”

“Allegedly dead. And don’t pretend. You crave our little talks.”

“You here to gloat?”

“Only when it’s warranted. I thought I told you he was dangerous. That’s on you—underestimating a man like him.”

You scoffed in derision. A man like him. “You’re probably right. At least I survived. Who else can say that?”

Your speaker phone remained silent.

You held your breath. “What’s wrong?”

“Kraven has a tendency to kill the people he sets his mind to. So the fact that you’re still alive worries me. He didn’t mention his death list, did he?”

Something moved uncomfortably in your stomach at the concept of an assassin following a list. You licked your lips, remembering how his eyes turned golden. A supernatural hunter trying to kill you wasn’t on your to-do list.

You parked your car in the garage of your safe house before you sped up the stairs.

“No, although there wasn’t a lot of time for talking, if you know what I mean.” You felt the civil conversation at the beginning would make the White Widow only insinuate how you had let your guard down, but you would disagree.

“I’m just saying, Kraven can find anyone, so you better be on your guard.”

A groan left your lips when you inspected the lock on your door, letting your head fall forward. “This isn’t happening,” you muttered in disbelief under your breath. “Got to run,” you called out.

“Don’t die,” Talia sang as a goodbye and half a reminder before hanging up.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, thanks for the warning,” you grumbled to yourself before you inhaled through your nose in preparation. With your gun placed at the back of your belt and your Widow Bites switched on. Silently, you opened the door and pointed your wrist to the floor. Nothing, so far.

“I’m curious, how would you like to die?” you hollered through the apartment. “Any preferences? I should have asked the last time.” You studiously searched every room, knowing he was in here somewhere.

“How considerate,” Kraven’s sarcastic reply came closer than expected. “Not here to kill you.”

You scoffed loudly. “Yes, right. I’ll believe that when I see it,” you whispered.

Finally, you found him. With his back turned towards you and his arms behind his back, taking in his surroundings. You didn’t trust it one bit that someone like him would be vulnerable like that. Kraven’s figure in the kitchen almost made it seem to small with his dominating presence taking up all of the space. You reluctantly applauded that gall of his for invading your space like that and to make a surprise attack like that.

“You changed your shirt,” you observed quietly, taking in his casual shirt, despite there not being anything casual about him. “The other one too bloody for you?”

Humor was laced in his voice as he slowly turned around, sending you a daring glance. “Observant little spider. Just want to talk.”

The guffawing sound coming out of your throat awkwardly switched to a cough. “Sorry, that—I don’t know where that came from.”

“I’m curious what other sounds I can elicit from those lips.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at the blatant flirting. If that could be considered flirting since it felt more like a hit from a sledgehammer. Very direct and hard to get away from. Typical Russian.

You clenched your hand behind your back. Talia couldn’t fault you for staying on your guard. “And I’m wondering about your noises when I do this-”

You pointed your wrist at him, watching in satisfaction at the electric jolt shooting through his chest. Kraven groaned in pain before sending you a dark glare at your own insolence.

“I was trying to have a normal conversation. You know, trying something new. You make this really hard though.”

You frowned at his ability to talk or even standing upright as you sauntered over to a close cabinet. With calm movements, you attached a silencer to your gun, not needing any more unwanted guests.

“I’m not really interested in talking after our last conversation, you know-”

Your wind was knocked out of you when something pushed into you, making you crash to the floor. You gasped when the back of your head bumped against the wooden floor. Shaking your head, you sent him a thunderous expression. “Now that’s my kind of conversation,” you hissed before you swung your thighs around his neck, squeezing with all your might.

Kraven grunted, closing his eyes. With sudden movements, he stood up and the next thing you knew was that he had pushed you against the wall, making you groan from the sudden impact.

Between your legs, you felt him puff out in breaths, “You know, not that I’m complaining, but I think I’m starting to get used to that.”

His flirty tone of voice made you look down in reluctance to discover him humming contently between your thighs. Spite made you squeeze even tighter and punch against his shoulders with your elbows.

“Stop with your pointy elbows,” Kraven hissed in warning.

“Stop invading my safe house, Kraven svolotsch!” [scumbag]

Your eyes widened when Kraven moved backwards and threw you onto your back as you both fell to the floor. He seemed to have a thing for knocking the wind out of you.

“What did you just call me?” he exhaled next to you.

“You heard me,” you whispered in return, trying to catch your breath.

“You know, I do love our conversations,” Kraven murmured reverently.

“What do you want?” you finally asked in disappointment.

“Now, you want to talk?”

“Now I want you out,” you exhaled tiredly.

“You wound me, pet.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Kraven sighed, slowly sitting up. “Who paid you?”

You opened your eyes, uncertain about his intentions. “Then you’ll kill me?”

Kraven raised his eyebrows, almost like he couldn’t believe you even uttering those words to him. “One less Spider in this world would be a pity. Tell me their name and I’ll reimburse you for your troubles. This, I promise you.”

You inhaled deeply, not knowing if Kraven was the kind to keep his oaths. “Or what?”

“These people are going to kill you if you don't deliver, unless you’re interested in a third run?” Kraven raised his eyebrows in challenge. Probably for some reason sharing the same opinion as you.

“Maybe I haven’t decided yet,” you teased as you leaned on your arm while your hand reached for his thigh which sustained the injury during your last altercation.

Kraven narrowed his eyes with his tilting head in consideration. “Uh, what are you doing?” he whispered hoarsely.

You clenched your jaw. Something wasn’t right, you thought, as you let your fingernails stubbornly search for the cut on his leg.

Kraven swallowed before he cleared his throat. “Why are you stroking my leg? Is this some sort of Soviet seduction technique I didn’t know about?”

There wasn’t an injury. Your heart was racing in your chest at the implication of it.

“What are you?”

Silence enveloped you two. Kraven stared at you in contemplation. “Tit for tat, Spider.”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes and stood up to stretch your legs. “I don’t know their name. It didn’t matter. He only called himself the Benefactor.”

“Mysterious,” Kraven grumbled behind you.

“Drink?”

“Without poison, if it’s possible.”

You turned your body to reveal the fakest smile you could muster for him. “Only for you, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you treat me too well,” Kraven purred while cocking his head. “So, how does he contact you?”

“Encrypted connection via messaging server.” You offered a shot of vodka for him to take.

“Tell him to meet.” Pushing the brown locks away from his face, he threw back his drink.

“Well,…” You mulled over his offer. “…there’s only one choice to make. How do you feel about dying?” you inquired, putting the glass to your lips.

You tapped your fingers against arm, waiting for the stop of the descent of the cargo elevator. All the while ignoring the stares of two other henchmen standing next to you.

Someone cleared their throat. “Are you like the real deal?”

You pursed your lips at the awkwardness of it all, being in the lair of the so-called Benefactor and being surrounded by fanboys. It was strange. Usually, you were used to people being terrified of your past. Like they couldn’t fathom the possibility of an assassin walking among them. Or that they’d rather didn’t see you being part of society.

“No, I just like dressing up,” you replied dryly, sending them a smirk over your shoulder. “You want me to turn on my batons?”

“Can we take a selfie?”

You considered that for a few seconds before shrugging. “Sure. You want to get the body bag too?”

“Is there really a body in there?”

“What can I say? Needed something large in size to fit the dude.”

Both seemed speechless for a second and made up their minds. “Neat. Come on, huddle together.”

You tilted your head, making a peace sign with your fingers before the camera made the sound of a snapshot. “Nice.”

“Thanks so much.”

You cleared your throat. “My pleasure. Until next time, fellas.” Your fingers made a saluting sign before the doors opened to signal your destination. “Got to deliver something,” you muttered before you wandered down the hallways of the complex.

You had to hand it to those villains. They certainly had the extravagant taste for the finer things in life such as a hidden lair for your base of operations. You turned the corner when the HQ became visible down a set of stairs. Judging by the set of computers and a few people strolling around, tending to their tasks.

In the center of the base a man stood. There was something about him that compelled your vigilance. You trusted your deepest instincts that told you that you were dealing with the Benefactor of all people.

You did a double-take towards the set of stairs, mumbling to yourself, “Huh, that’s a lot of stairs.”

Almost like your voice carried over to him, the man turned around, staring right at you. “Welcome. It’s an honor to be in the presence of a Black Widow.”

Your body tensed before you took a deep breath while carrying the body bag down the stairs, being mindful of every thunk as you descended.

“If you say so.” Your curious gaze met his. There was something about him that felt familiar. The man appeared in his late 60’s and wore an aviator jacket with the lapel lined with fur. “Have we met before?”

The Benefactor cleared his throat. “I don’t think so. Is that the package?”

You narrowed your eyes at the dismissal. “Depends. Are you the Benefactor?”

He smirked when he lowered his head. “Sometimes.”

You placed your hands on your waist, dropping the body bag fully to the floor. “Very cloak and dagger,” you mused. “And to answer to your question: no. I just carry my accessories in there. Really practical if you know what I mean.”

The staring between the Benefactor and you lingered far longer than you expected it would.

Then he smiled widely.

“You’re funny.”

“I haven’t been called that before,” you surmised before you dragged the bag closer to him and pulled down the zipper until it ended around his middle.

The Benefactor hummed curiously and leaned forward until he could really see him. “Hmmm, he looks really fresh,” he replied as an observation.

What?

“I’m sorry?”

“The injuries on his face, I mean. There were stories about him, you know. Is it true that he can regenerate?”

Was he trying to mount him on a wall, or something? Or what was it about this talk of admiration?

Your gaze wandered around in scepticism at this strange diversion. “What kind of supervillain are you?” you asked with a hoarse voice.

The Benefactor chuckled under his breath. “I wouldn’t call myself super, not yet. But I have plans.”

“Hmm, don’t we all.”

He clapped his hands together, like you had just rejuvenated his spirits. “How hard was it to kill him?”

You stared at him calmly, knowing what was about to happen. “I think you know the answer to that,” you whispered ominously.

“Yes, I think I do.” Something glimmered in his eyes which gave you the incentive to turn on your Batons with their red glare.

Kraven’s eyes opened.

Ever so dramatic, you thought, as you inwardly rolled your eyes.

You didn’t gave away any warning before you doused the whole facility into complete darkness. There were gasps around you from the sudden blackout. Instead you turned off your Batons and switched over to your blades.

Something growled in the dark before you saw those golden eyes, like some sort of harbinger.

“You wanted me. Now here I am,” Kraven hissed menacingly.

“There’s no need for violence. I just wanted to see what would happen.”

“Okay,” you exhaled loudly. “Now watch this happen,” you promised sinisterly and threw the first blade.

Someone shrieked in shock when the knife pierced their leg. “Oh my—Goddammit!”

“Finish this, Kraven. I’m starving.”

You heard something powering up. With every second passing, a mechanical sound echoed in the air before something set into place. You turned your head just when night vision goggles jerkily snapped in your direction.

You suppressed a shiver and opted for the (more) silent tactic, swinging the baton around before shooting electricity through it at the last second.

Someone grunted before they fell to the floor.

“We don’t have all day, by the way. What’s taking so long?” you hollered and jerked back when the thrusters of an exo-suit flew past. “What the hell?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Kraven exhaled, hovering in the air, somewhere near the ceiling. “You deal with your henchmen and I’ll take care of this one.”

The alarm deafened your ears before red lights pulsed rhythmically into the dark, giving you the opportunity to watch—wait a second—the Vulture pressing Kraven against the wall.

“Are you sure?”

“Is this concern I’m hearing?” Kraven growled inhumanly before wrestling against like a rabid animal, tearing with all his might against one of the wings.

“If you want to fight the Vulture, be my guest.” You turned your head and watched in suspension as a new group of henchmen ran inside.

“Oh hey, fanboys!” you called out, waving a hand in greeting at the familiar faces.

They looked uncertainly at each other before one whispered to the other, “I don’t want to fight the Black Widow.”

“If it’s any consolation, if Kraven hadn’t taken so long, we would’ve been out of here already, so…” You twirled your batons in the air. “I’m not really giving you a choice, fellas.”

~Kraven POV~

Kraven was done with this bird man. He didn't mind heights, but this Vulture was messing with his good nature. The thruster’s engine made spluttering noises the longer his fingers viciously tore at it.

“This is all just a big misunderstanding.”

Kraven sneered at the pilot. “Tell that to me a few days ago when you tried to have me killed. Sending a Widow after me? Seems pretty clear to me,” he hissed with venom in his voice.

“Let go of the wing and we’ll talk.”

“The time for conversations is over, ptashka.” Feeling the itching in his fingers, he yanked out his hunting knife, ready to strike and not caring that they would fall several meters to the ground. [birdie]

“Okay, fine.”

Kraven frowned in anger when he was instead pushed, making him land on all fours.

Vulture’s landing was a bit inept, with the wing's engine sputtering. His arms were raised.

“Cease fire for now?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Kraven exhaled unevenly, feeling wrath still bubbling under the surface, sending you an expression of aggravation over his shoulder. Hoping you would understand not to cross Vulture for now without speaking.

“Can’t make any promises for her though,” Kraven mentioned casually while pointing towards you, like he was discussing the weather.

Thankfully, you fastened your batons at your back again.

“It was an invitation,” Vulture explained vaguely. “A test if you will. To join our circle.”

“Recruitment?” Kraven was getting bored already - this wasn’t really tickling his fancy. He raised an eyebrow with a sneer. “Not interested in joining anyone’s club. I have my own agenda to follow. I'm not bending towards anyone’s rules.”

“We respect your … hunts if you will.”

“We?”

“A collection of people who have been wronged. Like-minded people such as yourself. We could use someone like you who loves the thrill of the hunt. Because that’s what you do, right? You absolutely live for it. To hunt your prey until it grows tired.”

Kraven hummed noncommittally. Not sure yet of this secret club. But this bird man certainly could appeal to his baser nature. “I’ve reached a decision.”

Vulture tilted his head in fascination, but didn’t reveal his eyes behind those goggles.

“I won’t kill you … yet. For drawing me out like that. But you have aggravated me with your little games by making me neglect my work.” With every sentence, Kraven took a step forward, needing to drive home that he could kill them for their impertinence. “So, I’m going to take off and then I’ll debate with myself if I should drop by in the future. Be thankful if I don’t.”

He turned away, knowing with absolute clarity that they wouldn’t be stopped.

“Not even curious?” Vulture called from behind him, trying to dangle one last temptation.

“Too busy.”

“Even for a spider?”

Kraven clenched his jaw in agitation as he stopped in his tracks. And there went wrath all over again. His gaze met yours.

And there he thought he wouldn’t have to kill anyone.

Kraven turned his body, unable to stop the clenching of his fists. “Come again?”

“Oh, not this one,” he said, waving a hand at you. “I wouldn’t dare cross a potential asset.”

“Not interested,” you negated with absolute certainty.

Vulture shook his head. “Not interested … too busy.” With careful movements he took off his night vision goggles. “I thought it could interest you to hunt a certain … Spiderman.”

Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman

#steph writes #watchtowerindistress #kraven the hunter x reader #kraven x reader #sergei kravinoff x reader #sergei kravinoff x you #aaron taylor johnson x reader #kraven x you #kraven the hunter x y/n #sergei kravinoff x y/n #kraven the hunter x you

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loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

You’re in Trouble (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: Swearing, threats of violence

Synopsis: As the gang are looking around the boathouse, Y/N joins them on the hunt for Eddie but her angry demeanour makes the others worried of what will happen when they do

Y/N notes: shorter than Eddie

This one was requested by @lily-sinclair-2006 ! I liked the idea of Y/N being pissed that he may have cheated on her rather than the more important thing, that he might of killed someone lol. I’m working on The Metal Head and the Material Girl part 2 and it should be out some time this week so look out for that!

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

“What a dump.” Dustin mumbled as the group entered the boat shed. Steve pulled an oar off of the wall and began jabbing at the tarp in the boat. Dustin pulled a face at him.

“What are you doing?” The younger one asked.

“He might be in here.” Steve calmly replied, continuing to jab.

“So take the tarp off!”

“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off!” The door to the shed burst open, spooking everyone inside. They all turned to see Y/N L/N in the doorway. She gave them an angered confused look.

“Y/N?” Steve questioned, lowering the oar.

“Steve? The fuck are you lot doing here?” The girl looked at each of the group.

“Uh we could ask you the same question?” Steve replied.

“I’m looking for my bitch ass boyfriend that’s what I’m doing.” Y/N explained, walking further into the shed and looking around.

“Oooooooh yeah I totally forgot Eddie had a girlfriend.” Steve said to the group. Dustin gave him a look of disbelief.

“Yeah you couldn’t have remembered that sooner?? It would have been real helpful to know that the person we’re looking for is dating someone!!!”

“Alright alright I’m sorry! She graduated two years ago, haven’t seen her since so she slipped my mind! Uh no offence Y/N.” Steve put a hand up in Y/N’s direction as she continued to look around.

“None taken Harrington, so you guys found anything?”

“Uh n-no not yet.” Dustin replied. “Uh hi Dustin Henderson, Eddie’s friend. Do you know where he might’ve gone if not here?”

“I went to his trailer the morning after it happened, police wouldn’t let me get too close. Eddie’s uncle, Wayne, didn’t have clue to where he went either. I checked all over my house just in case but he wasn’t there. I went to our old spot in the woods outside the high school, then our one at Lover’s Lake, nothing. And now I’m here.” Y/N sounded more and more annoyed the more places she listed off.

“And I just wanna make sure…” Dustin began. “That you don’t think Eddie did it?”

“Of course he didn’t.” Y/N replied, finding it stupid he’d even ask. “That boy will cry over roadkill we pass on the way to my house ain’t no way in Hell he killed Chrissy Cunningham.”

“And you think he’ll still be alive?” Dustin asked, wanting the confirmation.

“Either he’s dead or I’m gonna kill him myself.” Y/N answered back.

“Hey.” Max called. “Look over here.” Wrappers from different snacks laid about on a table.

“Maybe he heard us?” Robin suggested. “Got spooked and ran?”

“Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin said sarcastically.

“I know you think you’re being funny Henderson but considering everyone in the room, apart from Y/N, has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight-“ Suddenly Eddie jumped out and pushed Steve to the wall. A broken beer bottle to his throat. Everyone immediately panicked trying to calm Eddie down.

“You’re focusing on the wrong person Munson.” Eddie turned at the familiar voice, dropping the bottle. He began walking over to her, a relieved smile appearing.

“Babe-“ Y/N slapped him clean across the face. Everyone fell silent.

“You wanna explain why Chrissy Cunningham was in your trailer?”

“W-What?” Eddie managed to say.

“Chrissy. In your trailer. Late at night. No call from you.”

“I- wh- she was-“ Y/N glared up at him. He sighed, exasperated. He didn’t care that she was mad, he had to say it. “You have no idea how happy I am to see your face after the time I’ve had.” Eddie opened his arms to her.

“I’m waiting for an explanation.” Y/N did not hug him. She stood there with her arms folded. Eddie went limp and gathered his thoughts.

“R-Right right, she was buying from me. Wanted something stronger, we had to go back to mine. That’s it. That’s it I swear.” Eddie looked at Y/N, pleading for her to believe him. She could see in his eyes that he was craving any sort of affection from her. She sighed and placed a hand on his cheek.

“You dummy. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, his arms going around her waist. “I was so fucking worried about you.”

“I’m sorry. I would’ve contacted you, I would’ve but I-I just couldn’t.”

“I know. It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” The couple pulled away.

“Yeah no kidding babe. You really went for it.” He rubbed his cheek, feeling the hot sting from the slap. “So you really thought I cheated on you?”

“Well what was I supposed to think?” Eddie smiled and wrapped himself around her once again, this time making sure he could still see her face. Y/N rested her hands on his chest.

“Y/N I’m lucky you even acknowledge my existence, let alone are my girlfriend. What kinda delusional asshole would I be if I went off with another girl?”

“The worst.” Y/N teased.

“Yeah. I’d be the worst.” He leaned down, to kiss her. Pushing back on her a little, hungry for her affection. He didn’t realise how much he needed this until it was happening. An awkward cough brought the two back to reality.

Ah right. They weren’t alone.

“Okay glad you two lovebirds made up. Now can we please shift our focus back to the important stuff?” Dustin asked.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry Henderson it’s… it’s been a rough day.”

Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries @ruhro7 @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski @gh0stm3g @lagataprrr @spencersbookbag @ygrworld @ambernicole90 @alwaysbeenfamous @angelsarecallin @voteforevilthoughts @iameddiemunsonshair @hellf1reclub @phobles-world @isshecleverorisshecrazy @olrjmarvete @b-bella9 @ultraoliviajeromethings-blog @beatlebeesstuff @korescomaactually @bilesxbilinskixlahey @darkened-writer @nightless @gnkkstarz @cullenswife @killergoddessmm @preciousbabypeter @uselessbutinteresting @frogtits1 @lotus-es @padfootpottah99 @siriuslysmoking @enoumen-t @marrigold-2002 @nightless @the-mysterious-miss-s @olrjmarvete @evie-119 @rand0m—fangirl @felicityofbakerstreet @lotus-es @v0idl1nq @stv-1-ncent @eiviea @iheartcb @grumpyy-bearr @purple-flamingo @eddiessoulmate @violetrainbow412-blog @mcueveryday @marauders3rawh0re @ravenhood2792 @dragonalpha54 @slytherinintj13 @pastel-abyss-x @missscarlettangel @charli123456789 @henhouse-horrors @erikaar @golden-hoax @fairynamjoonie @caramelkatsukis-bitch @sun-faced @somerandomasgardian @helensophie @avobabe87 @s-u-t @superheavymetalunicorn @low-keyyyyy @carliuxima @avarose06 @ticharluv @ijustfndamilldllrsthatsmnefgt @gia-maybank @takemetoneverland420 @notbeforelong @lovepity @falling4uke @emiijemii @chocolatestudentllamabanana @milkiane @montgomery-fucking-gator @girl-in-the-chairs-void @ourheartsofsteel @simp4fictional @sakurarou @nyctophiliiiiaaa @just-that-bi-girl @ieatrocks1 @beautifulrunwaymodelwombat @geeksareunique @chiggennuggie @levylovegood @eddie-swhore @char1389 @chaerwithluv @annikin-im-panicin @mmmxmo @cestlavie03 @selenelouvel @thanatophobiawilldestroyme @unicorntrooper @jmj-1312 @nxrdamp @funn-sizedd @idblamekate @miraakswhore @7myoi @vintageleather @lemongirl5910 @hermie62 @tuskjohnny @madcosss

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #st eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things season four #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #reader x stranger things

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