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bvtbxtch · 9 months

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Checkmate. | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You thought your night couldn't get much worse, until a certain metalhead makes you an offer you can't refuse.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Fem!Reader x Original!Jock!Character, minimal usage of Y/N.

Series Warnings: MDNI!!!! 18+ smut, fluff and angst, mentions of drug and alcohol use, Eddie and Reader partake in substances and he drives, both give consent under the influence but no one is so intoxicated they don't know what they're doing, mentions of physical harm towards reader and domestic violence if you squint. Ageless or minor blogs will be blocked.

Word Count: 9.8k (Shes a mammoth, of course)\

A/N: Hello my babies thank you for coming to my ted talk. Here is my next series and I have no idea how long it will be thank you kindly. This man has just had a chokehold on my brain. This fic was inspired by the song Sex by the 1975 and Checkmate by Conan Gray. I want to say a special thank you to @darknesseddiem for being my sweet angel baby and chatting with me through some hard shit!! Love you lots! I hope you all enjoy!!

Going to tag some mutuals and my fave blogs because I would love feedback and ideas on what you would like to see next!!

@andvys @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eddie-munsons-mullet @ali-r3n @lovebugism @trashmouth-richie

“Fuck” you gasp as you frantically look in all of your jacket pockets for any remnants of a cigarette. Your eyes clouded with tears as you tried to take deep breaths. You wish that the ground would swallow you whole as drunk teens climbed over you on the front steps of whoever’s house was hosting this weekend’s rager. You wished you talked your boyfriend out of this party - hell you wish that you were at home alone. That way this mess would have been avoided, or it could have happened in the comfort of your own home - or without being humiliated by most of the people you went to highschool with.

You laid on Billy’s unmade bed, pulling back on your shirt and fixing your panties that had been hastily pushed to the side.

“So, is that really what you’re wearing tonight?” the blonde studied you through the mirror on his wall. He had pulled his old Hawkins tee over his curls and smoothed it over his toned stomach.

“Wha- what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You peered down at your bare legs and suddenly felt self conscious. You had picked out Billy’s ‘favorite’ plaid skirt (for easy access) and paired it with an oversized one shoulder tee. Your previously perfected curls stood in a halo of frizz after your pre party escapades (which if you were feeling honest with yourself, were more pleasurable for one of you).

“It just, is like the same thing you always wear, babe. Show off that bod you got, you look like a prude” Billy sneered. You rolled your eyes as you readjusted the shirt you had donned.

“Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight,” you mumbled.

“What are you talking about?” the mullet of curls whirled around and glared at you. “This is the biggest party of the summer and I need to make an appearance. You know people will ask questions if you aren’t there.” He stalked up to the bed and stood over where you sat. He grabbed your chin and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Plus what happens when I get too drunk and need to relieve myself in the bathroom, huh?” He snickered as he grabbed your hands and pulled you up. “Now get out of that pretty head of yours and get ready to have fun. It's like all of our favorite things. Booze, friends, music, me…” He pulled you to the door and smacked your ass as you left, you let out a yelp and a sigh as you walked to his front door.

“Those sound like all of your favorite things.” You mumbled, but the boy did not hear you. The two of you pulled out of his driveway and raced through the sleepy streets of Hawkins.

“Who’s all gonna be there tonight?” You asked. You weren't necessarily miss congeniality when it came to the Hawkins High population. You often found solace of the likes of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley; Steve being your neighbor since you moved to town, and Robin hardly ever leaving his side. They were the few other people who you felt fully comfortable being yourself around.

“Well of course all the boys are gonna be there, I think Harrington said he might show up, and Chrissy and the cheer girls will probably go, and… Heather will be there”He stuttered on Heather’s name, which made you look over at him. His cheeks cast a light pink glow and he glued his eyes to the road. He had never mentioned her by name before. She had always been a part of the ‘popular girls’. You were a secure person but you had a knot in your stomach. You hadn’t seen as much of your boyfriend lately, apparently going to show his alumni support at basketball games, or out with the boys. He had come back to your bed with a few suspicious looking marks on his chest and neck that he had shook off as bruises from golf with the guys. You weren’t dumb; you had your suspicions, but you found it easier to not confront him now. College applications had just gone out, and you had heard back from few. You were ready to leave Billy Hargrove and this shitty town, but the prospects were dwindling and even if you didn’t have a future, you would have someone to be with in town. You felt the stomach acid rising in your throat, making you feel sick.

“Heather, huh? You haven’t mentioned her before”

“Yeah, she has been at a few shindigs before… do you not remember?” Billy’s voice was hoarse, he was getting defensive. “Why are you getting so jealous?”

“Whatever, Hargrove. Let’s just drop it.” You had minimal energy to fight with him.

“No seriously, do you have a problem with her? Like, she’s just a girl, we’re dating. Do you seriously not trust me? Because I’ll stay stuck to your side all night if that’s what you fucking want.” His voice continued to rise as he babbled.

“Jesus fuck! I don’t care that much! You just haven’t mentioned her before. Just drop it” You scowled and turned your body to stare out the window.

“No, you look at me” The man grabbed your arm and pulled you hard towards the console of his car. “Do you fucking think I’m stupid? I’d drop your sorry ass before I went on to someone else - and this kind of shit makes me want to drop your ass so you better fucking behave because you know what happens if I fucking dump you.” His eyes were now fixed on yours instead of the road. You pulled your arm away with no avail

“Jesus, fine, I get it! Now let go, you’re hurting me” He let go of your arm as you threw your body towards the car door. You let a small ‘asshole’ slip out of your mouth, but he did not hear you. You rode in silence to the party. When the car stopped you opened your door and slammed it shut, leaving Billy to scramble out of his car after you. He caught up to you and grabbed your wrist.

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He pouted

“Yeah whatever, let’s just drop it, okay? We’re here for a good time” you mumbled. You would do anything to get out of his grip. You needed a drink. He pulled you into his chest and planted a sloppy kiss to your mouth. He tried to stick his tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss but you pulled away from him and led him inside with a tight lipped smile.

As the hours bled together like the alcohol on the linoleum, your brain begins to go fuzzy. Your boyfriend who was, at one time, hanging off of you, was nowhere to be found. You excuse yourself from the flip cup tournament occurring in the dining room to go to the bathroom and ground yourself from the alcohol that you had consumed. You came face to face with a girl with beautiful brown locks and big brown eyes. As soon as she looked up at you, she cast her gaze to the floor and scurried past you, a guilty smile plastered to her lips. As you made it to the end of the hallway, you were met with your boyfriend's figure. His eyes bulged out as you now stormed towards him; his hands flew to his neck.

“What the fuck is this?” you clamor, the alcohol fuelling your courage and anger.

“What are you talking about?” You pushed Billy into the wall and grabbed his wrists. When his neck was freed, you were met with sprinkles of violet bruises and lipstick.

“Are you fucking kidding me” you laughed dryly. You pulled Derek’s shirt up to see the marks lead down his stomach and disappear at the hem of his jeans. You let go and your hand wound up to slap his cheek. He takes the hit and stalks after you as you trudge back to the party.

“Y/N wait!” Billy’s pleas garner a crowd, drunk party goers begin to form a snickering gang around the two of you.

“Tell Heather I say hey, and stay the fuck away from me okay?” You turn on your heel and head for the front door.

“You want a puff of mine?” You hear a familiar voice ask you. You feel a soft thump and warmth beside you. You look over and you are met with dazzling chocolate brown eyes, a mop of curly bangs and a lopsided smile. The boy has a joint pinched between his fingers and is holding it between the two of you. You can smell the alcohol and weed radiating off of him, but unlike most of the people here, it brings you comfort. You don’t condone taking anything from strangers but tonight you needed it - and he wasn’t a stranger. Not really.

“Thanks” you whisper as you take the joint from his hands and place it in your mouth. The boy flicks his zippo and holds it to the joint in your mouth. When he pulls away, he spends what seems like hours studying your face. Your face was flushed, but you were pale. Your brows were furrowed in (what he thought was) the most beautiful way. Your lipstick had left a distant stain on your mouth and your mascara had just begun to smudge under your eyes. You looked tired, and you had obviously been crying. Eddie thinks you’re the most interesting and beautiful person he has seen tonight. He had thought you were beautiful when he had bumped into you in the hallways, or shared a friendly wave under the bleachers during a smoke break; but seeing you up close was worlds different. He feels addicted to your face already - maybe it was the beers and weed talking, but he couldn’t look away.

“How much do I owe you, Munson?” you mouthed through the joint.

“Owe me? Princess, you wound me! This one is free of charge.” Eddie quips as he throws his hands to his heart. He smiles as he plucks the joint from your lips, takes a puff, and places it back in your mouth. As little as you had talked to the metalhead in school, you remembered always being intrigued by him. Your gaze often rested on him as he made an ass out of himself. You often caught yourself smiling with him. His face always felt so kind and welcoming, a welcome change from the cruel judgmental stares of the population of Hawkins High. The only reason you weren’t eaten alive was because of Billy. Without him, you would have been the freaky new girl. But you also knew that Eddie Munson’s reputation preceded him: although he was labeled the freak, he was one of the few drug dealers in Hawkins, which also made him a hot commodity with the female population - and was masterful with skills that pertained to them (apparently).

“Totally free, huh? No strings attached?” you teased as you knocked your shoulder into his.

“Nah, pretty girl clause. I don’t charge for them… especially when they’ve been crying” His smile fell as he examined you. You met his eyes briefly but you couldn’t keep his gaze.. You glued your eyes to your sneakers. Eddie grabbed your chin softly and raised your face to meet his.

“Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be outside of a party crying, you should be making the boys inside cry” he thumbed at a rogue tear that fell down your face, then grabbed the joint from you again. Your breath hitched as he blew smoke back at your face.

“Tell me what’s going on.” You have no idea why, but you trusted him with your predicament.

“My-my boyfriend… I just caught him with another girl.” You laugh at yourself as the words fall out of your mouth. You never thought you would be the pathetic girl babbling to someone about her shitty life, but here you are. Eddie’s eyes harden and he begins to tense his jaw.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” he growls.

“Umm, his name is Billy”

“Fuck- no way, Billy Hargrove did this to you? What a fucking prick! What are you gonna do?”

“Nothing tonight. It’s not even worth it.” You slump. Wiping your eyes, you look back up to Eddie and smile. “Sorry, don’t mean to be a buzzkill. You can go back inside if you want, Eddie. I shouldn’t be bothering you with my shit.”

“Sweetheart, wherever you are feels like it's the most interesting place to be… now if I go inside, I would really hope that you would join me because the two of us can’t have much fun at this party if you’re out here alone, now can we?” Both you and Eddie blush furiously. His words went straight to the pit of your stomach. You didn’t know what you deserved for him to be so nice to you, but you hope that it doesn’t stop. Eddie jumps up onto his feet and stands in front of you, his hands reaching out to yours to pull you up. For a split second, you felt unsure of yourself. You stopped before Eddie led you back up the porch steps towards the house.

“You aren’t being nice to me just to get in my pants are you, Munson?” Although you try your best to hide it, insecurity seeps through your voice.

“Normally I would be flattered, but I can tell that’s the opposite of what you need right now. If you would let me, Y/N, I would love to go shotgun a beer with you and have fun at a party, that’s it.” Eddie’s smile is genuine. His eyes are soft and he smiles warmly at you. For the first time in what seemed like hours, you smiled a genuine smile. With a small ‘lets go’, you let Eddie lead you back into the party.

After a few more drinks, you find yourself across from Eddie in a circle of drunk teens. A beer bottle centered between all of you. You were never one for drinking games like this, but tonight you need a change, you want to do something you normally never would, thanks to your new drinking companion. What you don't anticipate is your boyfriend entering the circle, Heather not far behind him. Your gaze hardens as you see him fold his legs into a seated position. He looked angry at you, which fuelled your rage even more - how the fuck could he be mad at you? Your eyes peel from his form, to the lanky metalhead sitting across from you. He mouths the words ' it's okay’ then sends you a wink, your posture relaxed and you focus all of your attention at the mop head across the circle from you, not the boy you thought loved you.

A few rounds of the bottle, a few rounds of kisses, a few rounds of laughs. You are enjoying reacting to what was happening in the game of spin the bottle until the glass in the center lands on you. Time seems to stand still as you feel your heartbeat in your ears. Eddie’s face drops as he watches you, sensing your panic. He looks down at his hands and picks his thumbnails, not wanting to see the hot mess that was going to unfold in front of him. He was too pissed at your boyfriend to watch you - a literal angel - kiss someone who had hurt you so bad.

You felt your eyes beginning to well up with tears, feeling like you only had one choice in the circle full of strangers. You could hear some of them laughing at you - obviously knowing of what had transpired between you and Billy before. You look around desperately, hoping there is some way you could take your leave, then you make eye contact with the boy that had his stare trained on the floor. Your heart pounds harder as you unravel your legs and crawl across the circle - in the opposite direction of where your boyfriend was sitting. There are gasps and oohs escaping the crowd as you inch your way closer to the boy you were going to kiss. Eddie looks up at the commotion and instantly turns flush as his stare meets yours. You seem calm, but Eddie’s hands begin to shake. He makes the mistake of glancing over at Billy, who is bright red and clenching his fists. Was this really happening?

Eddie uncrosses his own legs and leans back on his hands, ready to receive you. As you meet his legs, he holds his breath. You slink up his body and when your face was close enough for Eddie to feel your breath on his face, you part your legs and sit into his lap. Eddie’s breath immediately hitches as everyone in the room falls silent. His arms fly to hover around your waist as your arms wrap around his neck. You gently lean in and close your eyes, giving Eddie a chance to pull away if he wanted to (but lord knows he didn’t). Your lips meet softly and you feel everything around you still. Eddie’s lips are chapped, but still feel soft against yours. You move your face to the side slightly for Eddie to deepen the kiss. His tongue glides across your lip as a permission to deepen your embrace further. You hum into him and he takes advantage, his tongue softly roaming the inside of your mouth, battling your own tongue. Your stomach backflips as Eddie grabs the side of your face, your squirm in his lap causes him to moan softly into your mouth. Everything felt spinny in the best way possible, you grab onto Eddie as you are afraid the euphoria was going to send you floating away. Suddenly, you feel a tight grip on your arm and you are being pulled to your feet from behind. You’re separated from Eddie with a smack of your mouths, and you are left to gaze at him in total awe as you are dragged out of the room backwards.The grip on your arm pulls you around the corner and it wasn’t until Eddie was fully out of sight that you felt any sort of panic.

Your back hit the wall with a thud and you were instantly trapped between two large biceps. You stare up at furious baby blue eyes glaring back at you. Billy’s hot breath fans over your face.

“What the fuck was that, Y/N? Are you fucking kidding me?” he slurs through gritted teeth. The vein on his neck was beginning to pop out. You’ve seen this vein many times before. The alcohol and intoxicating kiss were going to your head and the idea of your hypocrite boyfriend getting mad at you for a stupid spin the bottle game after he had fucked someone else gave you the giggles. You let a small one slip past your lips. Billy slams his hands against the wall that leaves a ring in your ears and your chest tightening. Your giggle fades and smile drops instantly.

“Fucking humiliate me like that again and I will fucking ruin you. You got it? You wanna do anything in this town, you want to see anyone, I’ll make sure you can’t. University? That fucking gross record store you work at? Gone. I’ll fucking own your life if you do that shit to me ever again. I can’t believe you would do something like that to me.”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me, right? You’re the one that’s mad at me?” you sneer. Derek takes a step back like you have punched him in the gut. “Go cry on Heather’s shoulder, because as far as I’m concerned, I’m single tonight. Fuck my life up just as hard as you fucked Heather in the bathroom.” The furious figure's hand forms a hard fist at his side. He looks like he is getting ready to wind up and hit you and you wince prematurely in anticipation…

Eddie sits in the circle completely stunned; your lips still burned onto his. It took him several seconds for his breathing to steady and for him to realize where he was: in front of a crowd of drunk teens that now look at him wide eyed, saying nothing. It also took him moments to realize that you were in fact sitting on his lap, but now were not. He runs his hands through his curls and offers his audience a tight lipped smile as he leans over and spins the bottle again. He rises from his seat and sets off after your figure, which had just disappeared around the corner. He floats over to where he could see your shadow, knees still shaky from going weak underneath your body. What he is greeted with snaps him out of his daze.

“Hey, is this dickhead bothering you?” a welcome voice rang in your ear and saves you in the knick of time. You look over to the side and see the once soft and dazzling brown irises are cold, his lopsided smile curved into a frown and his jaw was tense. Billy’s eyes meet with Eddie’s and you swear you see smoke coming out of his ears.

“Fuck off, Munson. This is between me and my girlfriend , so why don’t you find some other desperate slut to take home and leave her alone, okay?” He pushes two fingers into Eddie’s shoulder.

“Woah, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you snap.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. The meathead needs to take his aggression out on someone, apparently the fuck in the bathroom didn’t do it for him” Eddie snarls, puffing his chest out, inviting Derek to make a move.

“Sweetheart? I’ll fucking-” Derek goes to swing at the metalhead’s face but you insert yourself between the two of them.

“Both of you, back the fuck up. I am so not in the fucking mood.” You push Eddie away, towards the front door. Eddie’s eyes are trained on the enraged boy, ensuring he stays planted in the hallway. Your boyfriend’s hands are held in fists so hard that you imagine there’s crescent shapes etching into his palms. Once you were a safe distance away, Eddie’s gaze shifts to your hands pushing on his chest. He grabs them and pulls you to the entryway of the house. His eyes soften when they land on you, his face now painted with worry.

“Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he? I’ll fucking kill him if he-”

“Relax, Munson. I’m okay. He’s pissed. I guess he has the right to be.”

“Are you kidding? You have every right to be pissed at him! The way I see it, you just got revenge - which I am happy to have helped facilitate by the way.” To Eddie’s surprise, your retort to his comment was a wholehearted chuckle. He looks at you in amused bewilderment as you give him a hearty laugh. Your nose scrunches up and your eyes begin to water. Eddie’s heart soars, he thinks he could get used to seeing you like this. He takes a mental picture that he hopes will last him forever. Your laugh is infectious and soon he joins you. Your head leans into his chest and he is holding you to ground himself as well - feeling like he was going to explode with glee just being around you. Your laughing settles and you peered up at your savior, your eyes becoming cloudy with anxiety.

“Hey, this party kind of blows” he scoffs. “You wanna go?” he rubs circles into your shoulder comfortingly. You lean into his touch and smile softly.

“Yeah, I am ready to get the fuck out of here. Walk me home?”

“Oh, sweetheart. I’ll do you one better.” Eddie grabs your hand and leads you to the door. As you shut the door behind you, you make eye contact with Heather, who is staring wide eyed at you. You felt sorry for her. As difficult as it felt, you let the thought of her marks down your boyfriend’s body disappear with her figure behind the door.

You shiver in the damp summer twilight. Hawkins had been blistering hot during the daytime, but the nights were a welcome pause. You take a deep inhale of fresh air as you catch up to Eddie at the end of the driveway. You walk with him in comfortable silence. The streetlights encapsulate Eddie in a halo of light, his pale skin glowing and eyes shining. The more you study the mop headed boy, the faster your heart beats. Once you have rounded the corner of the sidewalk the boy grabs your hand. You flinch, but squeeze his hand tightly in appreciation. Why was he being so nice to you today? Are you just a lay for tonight or is he genuinely interested in you? As much as you wanted it to be genuine, you remind yourself that anything to distract you from this night was welcome. And he was in fact a pretty cute distraction.

“I’m sorry your boyfriend’s a dick” he utters. He bumps his shoulder with yours as your eyes turn to the pavement beneath your converse.

“Yeah, it’s okay I guess.” Eddie could feel you shutting down. Your grip loosens on his hand.

“You don’t deserve that, you know?” Eddie stops walking and pulls you to face him. You roll your eyes and scoff at him.

“Alright, Munson. Take it easy, if you keep this up I might think that you like me or something”

“But, I do like you.” Eddie retorts. His answer blindsides you. He can’t mean he likes you like that. Plus you have a boyfriend.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Well, I know that kiss wasn’t just a normal kiss” Eddie’s eyes bored into you, full of a comforting darkness that was unfamiliar to you.. A coldness ran through your veins and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “Here’s what I’m thinking. We give you some matching marks that your boyfriend has. We can have fun tonight and you can forget about what you saw at that party. Or we enjoy the ride back to your house and we say goodnight and I still go home feeling like the luckiest guy in the world because I got to kiss a really beautiful girl tonight. What do you say? Van’s right here.”

Your cheeks are hot and the butterflies in your stomach feel like they are going to fly out of your body. Your mouth feels dry and your head is spinning. Did he really just offer to sleep with you to get back at Billy? Would you even be able to bring yourself to do it? But the kiss… You couldn’t stop picturing the kiss. It felt perfect. It felt like he was the only person that you were supposed to kiss. If your shitty boyfriend was off with someone else, why shouldn’t you have fun too? You stand in contemplative silence for a moment, then look up at Eddie with your big doe eyes. He feels like he could fall apart right then. You nod feverishly at him. He studies your face closely to make sure there was no hesitation, then his eyes darken with excitement and something that you could not read.

Eddie lunges into you like you are his prey. His hands fly to your hips and he pushes you onto the side of his van. Your mouth opens to let him deepen the kiss and he hums into you. Your butterflies move from your stomach to your core as Eddie puts his knee in between your legs. You break the kiss to catch your breath, giving the brunette prime real estate at your neck. He traces kisses from the side of your mouth to your pulse point, then he bites down hard - garnering a sharp gasp from you. You feel Eddie chuckle against your skin. He drags his tongue against the new bruise that was forming to soothe the dull ache.

“Eddie” you gasp, feeling the strength slipping from your legs, you needed more from him. Eddie raises his head from your neck. His golden eyes bore into you with pure lust and passion, but he is considerate; he studies your face closely, looking for any trace of hesitancy. He pushes his weight off of you and gives you air.

“You okay? This is okay right?” God, you feel as if you were going to drown in his eyes. His voice is saccharine sweet and you want to melt into him. But there was a sickly pang of guilt, knowing that you were doing all of this behind your boyfriend’s back. No matter how shitty he was, you couldn’t help but feel bad. But Eddie making you feel this good was too difficult to ignore; so, you decide that you can feel bad later - now it was time for you to give in to what feels good.

“Yeah, we should get going,” you pant. You pull at the lapels of his vest so he is back on you, your lips feeling lonely without him. You feel Eddie pawing at the passenger door of his van to the left of you. Once he gets it unlocked, he lifts you by the hips and sits you on the passenger seat, but instead of detaching himself from your lips, he grabs at your thighs so they wrap around his lean waist. A shock wave of pleasure shoots straight to your core as you feel Eddie’s calloused hands trace up your thighs. His cool rings send shivers down your spine and spread heat to your core. You push your body closer to Eddie’s, which warrants a moan into your mouth. Eddie’s beginning to sweat, he feels like he could explode any minute. The feeling of your core just a few layers of where he wants you the most drives him wild. His hands wander to the hem of your skirt and up the top of your thighs. You use his infatuation with your legs to mouth at his neck. You pepper soft pecks to his Adam's apple, pulling a hard gulp from the boy. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest in anticipation of what was going to come next. You spread a blotchy galaxy of bruises across his neck, but when you bite down on his pulse point, you hear a growl in the back of Eddie’s throat that takes your breath away.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re driving me crazy, you know that?” His hands travel further up your legs and rest at your hip, toying with the hem of your panties. You wiggle your hips as silent encouragement. Eddie hooks his fingers around the soft cotton of your underwear and pulls them down cautiously, giving you plenty of time to stop him if needed. The summer breeze hits your core and you shiver. Eddie gasps once he has your panties in his hand.

“Cute underwear. This all for me? You’re so wet already” he coos as he scrunches the fabric into his hand. “I’m gonna have to take these as a souvenir, if you don’t mind” You roll your eyes and laugh, but your smile fades as Eddie drops to his knees in front of you, never breaking eye contact with you.

“E-Eddie, what are you doing? We can’t do this in the middle of the road” you protest, pulling your skirt down and tugging your knees together.

“Then you better be quiet so we don’t get caught”. Eddie returns his hands to your thighs and traces over your knees so he can pull your legs back open. With a sigh, you give in. Eddie gives you a reassuring smirk, then presses a kiss to your knee. It feels like it is getting harder and harder to take steady breaths as you watch the beautiful boy beneath you plant chaste kisses up your thigh. You felt like you were going to suffocate the closer he got to where you wanted him the most, the anticipation strangling you like a noose. You wriggle in the seat, head pulled down to examine what the metalhead was doing beneath you.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby” Eddie's praises went straight to your core and you let out a strained moan. Eddie sent a pointed look up to you, warning you to keep quiet. You bite down on your lip as the boy disappears under the small amount of skirt left covering your decency. Eddie presses small kisses around your cunt, making you twitch with every move. You’re getting desperate for some release and Eddie could tell. Your hips subtly thrust towards his face and you can feel a smile on the next teasing kiss.

“Eddie, please, please,” your calls sound like prayers to him and he could get used to hearing the hymn coming from you. He decides to relieve you from your distress and takes a long swipe along your folds. You wrack out a mewl so sensual Eddie felt like he could cum right then. His tongue felt euphoric and he hums praise into you as he takes another swipe.

“Pussy tastes so good, princess. You’re so sweet” Eddie says before his lips bare down on your clit, sending your head jolting back in ecstasy. One of your hands flies to the roof of the van, the other in Eddie’s hair. As you claw at his scalp, Eddie doubles down on your heat, sending you closer and closer over the edge.

“Eddie, please, I’m so close” you pant.

“Come on, Y/N. Cum for me” Eddie encourages, probing a finger into your throbbing core. Eddie fixates his tongue on your clit, ensuring his eyes can watch your face as you fall apart over him. His finger curls expertly inside you, encouraging your orgasm to radiate through your body. Before you can register what was happening, your chest grows tight and you lose all feelings in your legs, a euphoric sob is pulled from your lungs and you couldn’t help but tighten your grip in Eddie’s hair, to his delight. Eddie moans into your core as he works you through, feeling hardly able to control his own high as well. When you moan again, Eddie detaches his mouth from you and swiftly raises to his feet. His hand cupped over your mouth as he continued to pump in and out of you, pushing you to overstimulation. You mewl beneath Eddie’s hand and he scolds you.

“Now, this is how you get us caught, sweetheart.” Eddie peers down each side of the sidewalk, luckily no one had seen the two of you. Eddie pulls his fingers out of your cunt and takes his hand off of your mouth, giving you an opportunity to catch your breath. Chest heaving, feeling high solely off of your orgasm, you swoon as you watch Eddie take the fingers that are covered in your essence and pop them into his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Get in the back, pretty girl” Eddie demands. You shake your head as you hop off the seat, legs wobbly and head spinning. You take Eddie’s hand and climb into the now open sliding door, giving Eddie a beautiful shot of your glistening pussy under your skirt. He curses to himself as he climbs in after you.

You take in the sights of the back of Eddie’s van and although it isn’t necessarily clean, it is cozy and you immediately feel comfortable being there with him. There are a few throw pillows tossed haphazardly in the corner, along with a few blankets strewn out on the floor. Cassettes littered whatever area they could claim and various metal posters decorated the walls. To your surprise, a line of wrapped condoms sat in one of the cupholders.

Eddie’s mouth was back on you as soon as he closed the door. The taste of your own essence and the weed you had smoked earlier made you feel high all over again. Eddie sits back against one of the van’s walls and guides you by the hips into his lap. The feeling of his rough denim on your bare core riled you up and again you were a mewling mess on his lap.

“Take this off, I wanna see you” Eddie mutters as he fumbles with the hem of your T-shirt. You fling off your shirt as Eddie ogles at your figure. His hands drift to your breasts and he moans in satisfaction.

“If I take mine off, you gotta take yours off” you tease. Eddie happily obliges you and pulls his shirt off. You were finally able to fully take in the boy's beautiful alabaster skin. You admired the dark ink that danced along his muscles and the neat lining of hair that leads to where you want to see the most. As much as you appreciated the distraction, you did find yourself truly appreciating Eddie for his looks as well as his sexual prowess. He truly was beautiful and looked even more so looking up at you with a fucked out stare, eyeing you like you were his whole universe. Eddie mouthed at the edge of your bra as he reaches around your back to unclasp your pesky straps. Your moans and breaths invigorate him even more and you could now feel his erection growing furiously hard beneath you. When your bra falls from your shoulders, Eddie captures one of your nipples in his mouth, while pawing at your other breast. You wanted his mouth to become a permanent fixture of your body. He felt so natural being there, and you couldn’t get enough. Your hands land on Eddie’s pecs, feeling the muscles moving beneath you, you claw down his stomach. Eddie hisses into your skin, loving the pain. You fumble with his belt beneath you, impatient to get his pants off. Again, you feel Eddie’s smirk against your skin. He separates himself from you to assist you in unclasping his belt and pants.

“Impatient girl,” he teases.

“Just get your pants off, Munson” You want your response to sound confident and sassy, but you are getting desperate, and your voice sounds whiny and breathy. It made Eddie laugh in confidence. He could ask you to do anything for him and you would do it right now, he knew that.

Eddie grabs your wrists that were still frantically trying to get into his pants and he pulls them away. You wriggle off of him and watch with bated breath as the boy peels off his jeans. Your eyes widen at the erection that Eddie is sporting. You couldn’t help yourself - you reach to him and run your hand across his bulge, eliciting a hiss from the boy. You flinch, but return your hand.

“Is this okay?” you question with sickly sweet care. Eddie could cum right this second.

“More than okay, princess,” he sighs. “Feels so fucking good already”. You place yourself between the boy’s legs and continue to rub at him, squeezing his length and rubbing your hands over his sensitive head every few strokes.

You understand how Eddie could get off by pleasuring you, because the sounds he was making sent heat straight to your core. His sighs and praises left you with a bewildered smile on your face. Your fingers curl beneath Eddie’s plaid boxers and he held his breath. You share a look, ensuring each other that you were both okay with going forward. You free Eddie’s cock and it flexes up towards his bellybutton. He is large - both exceptionally long and girthy. His veins trace the underside of his cock and lead to his weeping, pink tip. You feel your mouth watering as you lower yourself to Eddie’s waist. Your eyes peer up at him as you take one long swipe at him with your tongue. Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head as he lets out a groan. You tease his tip, taking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around his slit. Eddie’s hand finds purchase in your hair, stroking and pulling softly to ground himself. He was desperate to cum, he could just let himself go in this second, but then he wouldn’t be able to take full advantage of the time he has with you.

“Fuck, babe. You feel so good on my cock” Eddie’s praise encouraged you to take as much of Eddie that would fit in your mouth, and sucked back up his length. You bob on his cock until your eyes are watering. You milk Eddie for all of his sweet sounds and touches. You take a moment to look up at the boy and you are met with one of the most beautiful sights you have ever seen.

Eddie’s mouth was parted slightly. His bangs were beginning to stick to his forehead from the heat in the van. The rest of his hair settled on his shoulders, curls beginning to frizz. His brows were perfectly furrowed in concentration. His eyes pressed shut. A red flush formed on his face. He looked angelic. You could get used to looking at him like this: a moaning mess underneath you. You push Eddie’s cock further into your mouth and hold it there. Eddie’s eyes fling open in ecstasy and he looks down at you. He also thinks this is one of the best sights he’s ever seen. Then he feels you gag and he feels like his soul has left his body.

You moan into him then you gag, pulling back to catch your breath. Suddenly, Eddie is pushing you back against the opposite wall of the van.

“Eddie wha-”

“As much as I love seeing you choke on my cock, I can’t fucking hold on anymore. I need your pussy,” Eddie pleads as he undos the zipper on your skirt. You assist him in pulling it off as he reaches into his cup holder and grabs a small silver foil. He rips it open with his teeth and hisses as he slides the condom onto his penis. You felt a pang of nerves now. Being so close and intimate to Eddie felt so evil - he wasn’t your boyfriend. But it felt so right. Your pussy quivered just thinking of him being inside you. Eddie positioned between your legs. He rubbed his head between your folds, evoking moans from both of you.

“Fuck, you’re still so wet. You like sucking my dick, huh?” Eddie quips.

“Unff. Eddie, I love it.” You jolt as his head rubs at your clit. “Please, Eddie. Need you”

Eddie's eyes drop to where you are connected and he lines himself up with your entrance. He slowly presses in with a low growl.

“Fuck. You’re sucking me in”

“So big Eddie. Fuck” You pant. He had gotten barely half way and you felt deliciously full already. The stretch, mixing pleasure and pain. He is a perfect gentleman in taking his time with you. You admire his self control. You could tell going slow was not easy for him. His brows were furrowed even harder than before, his breath short and raspy. Finally, Eddie bottoms out. You felt like you were going to lose control too. You whimper underneath the metalhead.

“It's okay baby, you take my cock so well” Eddie’s hand came up to stroke your face gently, a brash juxtaposition to the lewd act you were both participating in. You turn your cheek and open your mouth on Eddie’s thumb. You look up at him with your watery eyes and suck down hard. Eddie thought he was going to collapse right then and there.

Eddie pulls himself all the way back out of you, instantly making you feel empty. You’re overwhelmed with fullness and pleasure as his cock rams back into you. You can’t help but yell out in pleasure. You bite your lip and cover your mouth with your hands. Eddie begins fucking into you at a ruthless pace. He pulls your hand from your mouth .

“Don’t stop those noises. I wanna hear you” he coos, pulling a sob from you. His cock hits just the right spot and you could feel yourself hurling towards the second orgasm of the night.

“E-Eddie… m’close. Please don’t stop” you whine. Eddie smiles down at you, quickening his pace. His hand flies down to where the two of you meet and while muttering endless praises, rubs precise circles on your clit. You feel Eddie’s hips stutter as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head and gasp as your orgasm falls on you. Your pussy has Eddie in a vice and he could barely hold back his own finish, but he was determined to work you through your climax, to make you feel as good as you can for as long as he could. He can feel your legs shaking beneath him and sees tears well up in your eyes. As you push his hands away from your sensitive clit, he puts his hands beneath your back and pulls you into his lap. Your hands fly to the wall of the van. Eddie fucks into your pussy at a dizzying pace, so hard that you felt that you could barely hold on.

“That’s right baby, bounce on that cock like a good girl. Take it” You whine at his words while your pussy throbs from your ebbing orgasm. You look around and suddenly feel a pang of jealousy. You wondered how many girls he had done this with in the back of his van - hell, anywhere. Were you just another conquest? What makes you different? Eddie saw an opportunity and he took it; and as hypocritical as you were, you hated thinking that he was going to leave the party and go see someone else. You look down at Eddie, his hair surrounding him like a halo, his cheeks fully flushed and sweat dripping down his face.

“Come for me, Eddie.”

“Wha-”

“Come for me. Come on, I wanna see you cum” Your eyes darken with lust and never left his face. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you and his breath shallowed. With a grunt and a few hard thrusts, you could feel Eddie’s cock being milked for all it was worth. You almost wish that he wasn’t wearing a condom so you could really feel him. His hips settle and you put your weight down on Eddie’s body, both heaving and sweaty. You let out a small giggle but Eddie studies your face closely, something is happening behind your eyes. Something’s wrong.

“Hey” , his voice was soft and tender. “Everything okay?”

“What? Of course. That was… that was great” you sigh, but Eddie doesn’t seem convinced. You roll off of him and lay to his right, looking into his beautiful brown eyes.

“If you regret it we don’t have to do it ever again and you can pretend like you don’t know me” Eddie’s eyes darted from yours and a dry laugh left his lips. Was Eddie Munson insecure?

“Eddie, that was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I don’t regret it at all” you smile at him. You can feel his muscles relax beside you and his face sank into his usual dopey smile. You weren’t lying. Things with your boyfriend had been… tense to say the least.

The movie playing out of Billy’s old pick up truck was drowned out by wet smacks against your neck. As usual, your boyfriend ignored your requests to not be marked up and was in the middle of gnawing at you when his hands started to migrate to your thigh. You nudged his hand away, but he persisted, swatting your hand away from his. This time, he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. His kisses traveled down to your collar bone and he played with the hem of your shirt.

“Babe, we’re in public.” You scolded him, pushing him off of you. You had begun to feel like everyone around you was aware of what you were doing. You weren’t afraid of taking some risks, but you were just not feeling it tonight.

“Yeah, and the public is watching a movie, so relax.” Billy presses his kiss-swollen lips to yours and forces his tongue into your mouth. You took your hands and pressed against his pecks to push him off.

“I don’t want to do this right now, Hargrove. Seriously.” You turned your whole body against the door, away from him. He scoffed at you and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

“So you wear a skimpy little dress like that and you agree to come to the drive in with me just to actually sit and fucking watch a movie? Or are you dressing up for someone else? Andy works here right? Is that who it’s for?” His voice raised with every word he spat at you. You could feel the tears starting to prick at your eyes. But you wouldn’t cry for him - you didn’t want to give him what he wants. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as a death grip engulfs your bicep. Billy pulls you to him, so close that you can feel his breath fanning on your face. Your breath gets caught in your throat.

“Don’t joke like that, Billy. I would never.”

“Prove it to me then.”

“Wh-what” you whimpered.

“Prove to me how much you love me.”

“Billy… please”

“Prove. It.” he seethed. He let your arm go and pushed you towards the passenger door. He leaned back and undid his jeans.

He raised his arms behind his head in satisfaction as you held back tears. You opened the truck door and slammed it, trudging towards the small concession to ask Robin for a ride home.

You and Eddie wrangle your clothes, sharing small laughs and pleasant conversation. You both share another joint as you both stall ending the night. Finally, the conversation lulls and you’re afraid the time has come for you to go home. Eddie lets out a lazy yawn and you can’t help but admire his treasure trail that peeks out over his jeans as he stretches his arms above his head.

“You getting tired?” he inquires, fidgeting with his rings.

“Yeah, I could sleep,” you admit. It was close to three in the morning and not only had you been up for almost 24 hours, you were so emotionally exhausted, feeling whiplash from your eventful evening. “I can let you go home,” you get up to open the van door, but Eddie grabs you by the waist and pulls you back into him. You giggle giddily. It’s been a long time since you have enjoyed being manhandled, but all of Eddie’s intentions seem so sickly sweet you couldn’t help but blush.

“Woah woah woah. You think I am going to let you walk home looking like that” He snorts.

“Looking like what?”

“Fucking gorgeous, and fucked out’. Eddie’s eyes rake over your figure again, sending heat back straight to your core. “Plus, I still have your underwear and there’s no way in hell you’re gonna walk home without those.”

“Well, you could give them back then,” you retort

“Not a chance in hell, sweetheart” He lands a chaste peck on your cheek before unwrapping his arms from you. He swings open the sliding door and hops out. Galivantly, he spins on his heel and offers his hand out to you. You take it and hop down onto the sidewalk. He opens the passenger door for you and helps you in. Once you are settled, he entraps you between his arms and leans his face close to yours. His eyes flicker between your mouth and eyes and he licks his lips. Suddenly, both of your movements feel more intimate. You meet him in the middle and lift your hand up to his cheek, he flinches at your touch, but quickly melts into you. Your mouths meld together perfectly and you would be content with staying like this forever. Eddie pulls away and rests his forehead against yours and offers you a sweet smile. He closes the door, leaving you for moments of silence. You can’t help but smile into your lap and touch your lips, still burning with the metalhead’s kiss.

He turns the ignition and turns the radio up, Black Sabbath ringing through the van. You tell Eddie your address and he turns off of the low lit neighborhood road. There was a comfortable silence between the two of you but you saw Eddie’s hand twitch a few times. He wanted to reach out and touch you so bad, already feeling so starved of your energy. His Adam's apple bobs and he slowly reaches out to touch your knee. Eddie’s warmth sends butterflies to your stomach. Never have you felt so cared for by someone, let alone a random revenge hook up. You feel conflicted. As you stare out the window you couldn’t help but feel like a bad person - not for sleeping with Eddie, but for sleeping with someone with the intent to hurt your boyfriend. At least when Billy did it, you thought, it might have just been a mistake or getting caught up in the moment. You went out and sought out an action to hurt him on purpose. But fucking Eddie felt too good, and from the conversation you had after spin the bottle, it was clear to you that you were just an object for Billy’s interest. When he was done with you he would move on and get what he wanted from someone else. So, should you feel bad about finding something - someone you like being with? You couldn’t break up with Billy, you wanted to forget about this whole night but his words will ring out in your brain and heart forever. You let out a deep sigh and relax into Eddie’s seat.

“What’s eating you, sweet thing?” Eddie squeezes your thigh and you flash him a tight, but kind smile.

“It’s just been an… interesting night.”

“Listen-” Eddie turns down the radio so Ozzy Osbourne is a mere whisper. “I don’t want you to feel bad about what we did. I don’t want you to be upset at yourself for that. So, if you want to forget this thing happened, I do understand. Really” His puppy dog eyes flickered between the road and your face, looking for any clues to what was going on in your head. You are such a mystery and he so desperately wanted to continue figuring you out, but, like you, your boyfriend seemed to be the only thing on his mind. You rub your lips together, deep in thought.

“Eddie, I don’t regret what we did at all. But, I mean I do feel bad. I cheated on my boyfriend… but he’s a piece of shit” you mumble. “I don’t want you to feel bad either. I had a lot of fun tonight. I was being honest when I said this was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, I promise.” You grab the hand resting on your thigh and give it a squeeze.

Eddie’s heart could beat right out of his chest. There was a twist of guilt in your voice but you seemed… different. You aren’t sad. You don’t seem angry. You seem similar to Eddie: enamored with the person you are looking at. It gives him hope that he could selfishly go home and think there is a chance that he might see you again. A comfortable silence falls upon the two of you, both giddy at the contact and reassurance you have both received, but your eyes stay cloudy. Even though Eddie doesn’t know you well, he can tell you are still deep in thought about something. It makes him nervous not knowing what about. Did he do something wrong? Are you going to tell him that this was all a joke and you never want to see him again? Eddie dreads turning onto your street, he’s not ready to say goodnight and potentially goodbye. He begrudgingly pulls into your small driveway and turns the key in the ignition. The console light illuminates your faces and Eddie is sure he is looking at an angel. Your soft eyes peer at him through thick lashes and you bite your swollen lips.

“I, umm, I had a thought” you peep. Eddie nods at you in encouragement to keep going.

“I mean… If my boyfriend is going to fuck around behind my back, why can’t I do the same, you know?” You fiddle with the rings on Eddie’s fingers that are still in your lap. “I mean, he’s practically holding the relationship hostage so why can’t I have fun behind his back too?” You peer up at the boy whose eyes soften when you do. He could tell you were nervous to say this to him, scared of being judged. Little did he know, you were also worried that this was just some random fuck for him too.

“Eddie, I was wondering if you wanted to make an… arrangement” you stop fiddling with his rings and your eyes bore into him; full of hope and desire. A smile quickly spread across Eddie’s face.

“Hmmm, yeah, sweetheart. I think we could make that work.” You smile down at your hands, worried that if you look too hard into Eddie’s eyes, there would be no way you would ever make it out of them. Your eyes spot a sharpie laying on the floor of your seat. You reach down and pick it up. Eddie shoots you a questioning look but lets you grab his hand anyway. Trying not to shake too badly, you neatly scribble your phone number on his hand. When you let go of him, Eddie looks at his hand in awe, like he has just won a million dollars. The truth is he felt like he had. He would tattoo your number on his skin if it meant that he would be able to see you again. You bombard his internal celebration with a peck on his cheek.

“Thank you for the ride, Eddie.”

“Which one?” He quips. You smile but roll your eyes as you regretfully pull away from him and hop out of the van.

“You better call me tomorrow.” you warn

“Sweetheart, it's gonna take everything in me not to call you as soon as I get home.” Eddie’s smile was from ear to ear. Heat rises to your cheeks and your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest. You turn and walk up the driveway with a matching grin. This night went from bad to worse to the best night you think you’ve ever had.

Like the perfect gentleman, Eddie waits until he sees your door close before he pulls out of your driveway. When you close and lock your door you are met with silence and darkness, but you felt as though your joy could light the whole neighborhood. You slide down your front door and pull your knees to your chest. You let out a content sigh, followed by a giggle. If Billy wants to fuck around. He’s gonna find out. He thought that you would sit around and be walked all over? Absolutely not. He might think that he’ll win the heartbreak, but with your new arrangement with a beautiful brunette? Checkmate.

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Ghostin' (Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader): Chapter 6

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

Summary: A plan needs to be put in place to defeat Vecna, but the situation may be more dire than anyone realizes. You and Steve take your relationship to the next level.

Warnings: smut--finally! (18+ only, minors DNI) language, S4 is canon, pregnancy, blood, it's a little bit of filler but the smut is worth it

WC: 4k

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

@kaybee87 @sidthedollface2 @chelebelletx @livsters @atombombbibunny @tattooedkiss13 @manda-panda-monium @charming-winchester @corroded-hellfire @trashmouth-richie @sweet-villain @slightlyvicked @hxllfired @yogizzz @tlclick73 @thefreakofhawkins86 @sheisjoeschateau @harrypotteranna23-blog @harringr0ve @josie955 @luna-munson83 @blhemmings @lxvesickreality @palmtreesx3 @stephierro

It’s been a month since you’d first heard Vecna’s chimes, the night when you’d almost had sex with Steve. You wish you could say that it was also the last time the horrendous sound reverberated in your mind, but that would be a lie.

You hadn’t told anyone, especially not Steve. The man already approached everything with an abundance of caution; if he knew about how close Vecna was to invading your consciousness, he wouldn’t let you leave the house. And with Little Bean’s arrival only eight weeks away, you can’t afford to start maternity leave early.

Work is busier than usual, with people trying to book their appointments before the hustle and bustle of the holiday season. You’re collecting a copay from a patient when the door swings open, smacking into the wall with a thwack.

“What the–” you stand up as quickly as your new center of gravity allows you, peering over the counter as Will Byers and Dustin Henderson storm into the office. They’re clearly on a mission, though you don’t know whether you want to be involved. The last time you joined them, you’d watched those bats go after Eddie…

“Y/N!” Dustin’s shrill voice rings through the waiting room, much to the patients’ irritation, abruptly interrupting your train of thought. “Oh, thank God you’re here. We have to talk to you.”

“Can I help you boys?” you ask through gritted teeth, trying to hide your annoyance at their outburst in your place of work. “Maybe quietly?”

“Sorry,” Will says sheepishly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s just that…we need to plan our next Vecna attack.”

“Like, now,” Dustin adds, urgency prevalent in his voice. “Will told me that he’s gaining strength more rapidly.”

You look back at Will, who shrugs and nods, touching the back of his neck. “This morning, I…I felt him. And he’s almost ready to fight like…like he was before.” Before the attack that killed Eddie, blinded Max, and destroyed the town. You shake the memory from your head like an Etch-a-Sketch.

“Okay,” you breathe out, regaining your composure. “I finish work in an hour–”

“We don’t have that kind of time!” Dustin blurts out forcefully, slamming his palms on the counter.

Will just rolls his eyes. “We have an hour,” he amends his friend’s statement. “We’ll all be at my house if you can meet us there after you’re done.” His brown eyes drift down to your bump. “Oh, how are you feeling, by the way? And how’s the baby doing?”

Your posture softens at his thoughtfulness; leave it to Will to be concerned about you and Little Bean in the midst of Vecna’s return. “We’re good,” you say, placing a protective hand over your belly. “It’s been nice having Steve around, helping out…”

Will offers a kind smile, which you easily return. Dustin, meanwhile, is less interested in having a nice conversation. “Now that we’re all caught up, can we get back to, I dunno, saving the world?!”

“I’ll see you boys in an hour,” you say, ushering them out the door before Dustin can cause more of a scene. Eddie’d always said that the kid was, um, enthusiastic, but you’re really getting to witness it firsthand.

Before you join the group at the Byers’ house, you have a pitstop to make. Forest Hills Trailer Park has been a second home to you, though you haven’t visited Wayne as much as you should be. You often think about going to see him, but the reminders of Eddie are too painful to bear. The mugs and caps hanging on the wall, all gifts from Eddie to Wayne for various Father’s Days, birthdays, and Christmases. After the earthquake, Wayne used the insurance money to fix up the trailer, but he still slept on a cot in the living room. Eddie’s room remained unused, as though he was waiting for him to return.

“If it isn’t my two favorite people!” Wayne smiles, wiping some crumbs from his beard. “How’s it goin’? Got any new pictures for me?”

You muster up a smile in return, fishing through your bag. “Actually, yes!” You hand him the sonogram pictures, blinking back tears as you watch the older man’s eyes fill up with his own.

“Well, I’ll be,” he says softly, dragging his forefinger over the shiny film. “That’s my grandbaby.”

“Sure is,” you choke out, trying to brush away the tear that slips down your cheek before he can notice.

“Startin’ to look like a real person now,” he continues, head snapping up when he hears your sniffling. “Shit, ‘m sorry. Didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“‘S okay,” you manage. “I mean, I’m seven months pregnant. Grass growing could make me cry at this point.”

Wayne chuckles, pressing a fatherly kiss to the top of your head. “Come in, have a seat,” he offers, and you find yourself sitting next to him on the worn sofa. “How’re you hangin’ in there? Little Bean giving you too much trouble?”

You shake your head. “Just the usual aches and pains. They’re kicking a lot lately, especially while I’m trying to sleep.” Right on cue, Little Bean delivers a roundhouse kick right above your navel. “Wanna feel?”

His eyes widen, unsure of the proper etiquette when touching a pregnant woman’s stomach. You take his cracked, calloused hand and place it where Little Bean’s foot just was. The faint fluttering of a kick brushes against his palm, and he jerks back instinctively before laughing and returning it back to your bump.

“All right there, Karate Kid!” His gray eyes twinkle with joy as he speaks directly to the baby. “Y’know, your dad kicked up a storm when he was in his mama’s belly, too. I have a feeling you’ll be just like him, for better or for worse.” He places his hand back in his lap. “God, I miss that kid so much.”

“Me, too,” you say quietly. “I don’t know how I’m gonna do this without him.” You look up at the older man and choke back a sob. “How am I gonna get up every morning and see a child who looks like Eddie without getting depressed?”

Wayne lets out a long sigh, rubbing the scruff along his cheeks. “I wish I could say it gets easier. I really do. I keep expecting him to barge through the door, rantin’ and ravin’ about Dungeons & Dragons or his music. Shit, I kept tellin’ him I’d go to one of his concerts…”

“You had to work,” you reassure him. “Eddie knew that. He understood.”

“Thanks, darlin’.” Wayne swipes at his cheeks. “I think about him all the time. I’m sure you do, too.” You nod in agreement, and he continues. “I think about everything he could’ve been if he was alive. All these possibilities—gone.

“But you,” he manages a small smile, “you and Little Bean are like a glimmer of hope in the darkness. I don’t want you to forget that.”

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence until you work up the nerve to ask, “What if I can’t keep them safe? What if something…happens to them?” Like it happened to Eddie, you say silently. Like it happened to Chrissy and Fred and Patrick. Like it happened to Max. Like it could happen to Steve. Or to me.

“There’s no easy answer to that,” Wayne muses. “We can’t control our kids or the situations they find themselves in. I keep wonderin’ what would’ve happened if I was home when that cheerleader was here. Maybe things could’ve been different.” He looks up towards the ceiling, unknowingly glancing where a gate to the Upside Down once was. “We just do the best we can, and we hope that they learn.”

You start to stand up, stopping when Wayne says, “You’re gonna be an amazing mom. And, uh, I don’t know that Harrington kid too well, but I heard he’s a decent guy.”

“You—you know about me and Steve?”

A blush creeps into Wayne’s cheeks. “‘S a small town. People talk and, uh, there’s not too many expectin’ teenagers who lost their baby’s father in the earthquake.”

You swallow thickly. “Are you mad at me for being with him?” The last thing you need right now is Wayne’s disapproval.

He shakes his head. “Absolutely not. No one expects you to do this alone. Eddie wouldn’t want that. He would want you to find someone who loves you and loves Little Bean.” His gaze meets yours. “Does Steve love you and the baby?”

“Yeah,” you smile, thinking about how patient, sensitive, and kind he’s been to you. “Yeah, he really does.”

“Good.” Wayne nods, helping you to your feet. “Get some sleep. And if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

You drive over to the Byers’ place after your shift, stifling a yawn as you knock on the front door. Everyone else is already there, and you feel a pang of embarrassment at being the last to arrive. The insecurity dissipates as Steve practically tramples over his friends to be by your side.

“Hi, my love,” he murmurs into your scalp as he kisses the top of your head. His arms wrap around your shoulders so he can pull you as close as your belly allows. “How was work?”

“Good. Weirdest thing happened today, though,” you tell him, laughing at the puzzled look on his face. “I was just minding my own business when these two hooligans came in, ranting and raving about some monster from this place called the Upside Down?”

Dustin, who’s well within earshot, scoffs at your remark. “Two hooligans? I take offense to that statement!”

“You’re right,” you concede, “it was just one. Will was perfectly behaved.”

The curly-haired boy shows off both of his middle fingers, only to be met with a thwap to the back of the head from Chief Hopper. “Don’t be an ass, kid,” he warns, pulling out a chair for you to sit on. “How’s life treating you, sweetie?” he asks, plopping down next to you.

“It’s exhausting,” you admit with a tired laugh.

“I can’t imagine,” Joyce says, handing you a cold glass of water. “Pregnancy was hard enough for me without all this.” She gestures wildly, mimicking the chaos that brings you all together now.

You drink the water, feeling the condensation on your fingers. Steve’s arms snake out from behind you, hands crossed over your chest. “You can go home and rest, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “We’ve got this covered.”

“M’fine,” you fib, because nothing about this is fine, but you know you can manage to sit and participate in the planning. “Besides, I…I wanna help.”

Steve opens his mouth to protest, but he’s cut off by a balding man with glasses, who stands on a chair to call everyone to attention. His bushy eyebrows pinch together when he sees you, extending his hand and offering a toothy grin. “Murray Bauman: karate expert, Soviet ass-kicker, and matchmaker.” He winks in Joyce and Hopper’s direction. “Now,” he continues, raising his voice. “We need to come up with an idea to defeat this Vecna fucker–sorry, kids–once and for all. We have an advantage that we didn't have before–time to plan.”

“But not too long,” Will jumps in nervously, explaining how he can feel the monster gaining strength.

Murray’s booming voice takes over again. “So, what do we know?” He taps a pen to his bearded chin.

“For starters,” Robin pipes up, “we know that everything’s a hive mind. So if we draw all of the creatures in, we can bring them all down at once.”

“That means we’ll need a lot of manpower,” Murray muses, writing down hivemind on a notepad. He looks up suddenly as Erica grunts out an ahem. “And womenpower, sorry. Jeez, with the semantics.”

“El, Max, and I have a connection to him,” Will says. “If we go into the Upside Down, we can lead you to him easily.”

Lucas places a gentle hand on Max’s shoulder. “Should she be back in there? I guess it’s not safe for any of us, but…”

“We’ll need bait,” Steve says, biting his lower lip nervously. “And he’s only been coming after me so far, so I guess we know who it’s gonna be.” He crosses his arms over his chest, scratching at the stubble that’s formed on his jawline.

“No!” you cry out before you can stop yourself, feeling your cheeks heat up at your outburst. “Steve, what if…” You can’t watch anything happen to him. You’re flooded with the image of demobats swarming towards Eddie, tearing at his flesh as he screams in agonizing pain. Blood seeping between his teeth as he lay there dying. You and Dustin watching helplessly, begging him to stay alive as he took his final breath. “What if he gets you?”

“Sweetie,” Joyce breaks in, rubbing your upper back tenderly, “if this is too much…”

“It just can’t be Steve,” you murmur. “I already lost Eddie; I can’t lose Steve, too.”

Steve shakes his head solemnly. “It has to be me. I’m the one who’s heard—”

“I hear them,” you blurt out. A hushed silence falls over the room. “I hear the chimes. I haven’t had a—a dream yet, but I hear the chimes.”

No one says a word until Steve manages to find his voice. “Why—why didn’t you say anything?” His tone is a mix of sadness, concern, and anger. “How long has this been happening?”

“A month,” you admit sheepishly, and his cheeks flash red.

“A month? A fu—freaking month?!” This comes from Dustin. Hopper shoots him another dirty look, which he ignores. “What, were you gonna wait until Vecna ripped your eyeballs from your head before telling anyone?”

You can’t help it; tears stream down your face and you get up and walk out of the house. Dustin yelps out an ouch, which you can only assume is from another back-of-the-head slap.

“Good going, Henderson,” Steve hisses as he chases after you. He catches up to you easily, taking your hand in his. “You gotta talk to me,” he says, gently but firmly. “Tell me everything.”

The malicious, degrading voice inside your head tells you to keep it a secret, that telling him the truth will only make you seem more pathetic, that you’re already enough of a burden.

But as you look into Steve’s big, brown eyes, you remember the promise you made to him. “It started the night that we almost had sex. I haven’t been hearing it a lot, but it’s enough that I know I’m not just imagining it.”

Steve exhales. “I mean, I know that can’t be a coincidence,” he says. “But I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t say something. Why keep it to yourself?”

“Because people already treat me like I’m fragile,” you explain. “And, I dunno, maybe I am. I mean, I’m pregnant, the baby’s father died…but I wanted to handle this on my own.”

“Baby,” Steve murmurs, gazing into your eyes. “I know you’re new to this whole alternate-dimension, giant-scary-monsters scene, so I’m asking you to believe me.” He takes your hands in his, squeezing gently. “Vecna is the worst one we’ve dealt with so far. None of us, not even Hopper, can do this alone.”

You think for a moment, biting your lower lip in concentration. “Can you fill me in on the plan?” you ask. “I’m gonna go home and rest.”

“Of course.”

“And, Steve?” you continue, and he nods. “Promise me two things.”

“What?”

“One, you won’t put yourself in extra danger,” you say, “and, two, you let me be part of it. Not going into the Upside Down or anything, but I need to help.”

Steve pauses before responding. You know that he wants to protest, to tell you that there’s no way in hell he’s letting his pregnant girlfriend fight. But he knows that it’s beyond him, beyond you. This is something you need to do to avenge Eddie’s death.

“Okay,” he reluctantly agrees. “Do you want me to come with you? I don’t mind; Robin or Henderson can fill me in–”

“No,” you shake your head. “I mean, thank you. But I’ll be fine. I can even put on some music, think of some happy memories. Like the time I kissed you at Family Video.” You smile, leaning on him as you press your lips to his. “I think it went something like that?”

Steve furrows his brows teasingly. “Hmm, I’m not quite sure. Show me again?” He leans in and kisses you, soft and slow and sweet. His hands cup your cheeks, sending tingles down your spine. “And you promise me you’ll call the Byers if you need anything. I’ll come running home, okay?”

You nod, heading towards your car. “I promise.”

When Steve arrives home a few hours later, you’re sleeping soundly in your bed. You’d barely managed to change into your pajamas before passing out, radio tuned to your favorite rock station. You don’t wake until you hear the apartment door close, with Steve muttering, “shit,” when it slams louder than he’d intended.

“Steve? That you?” you call out sleepily.

“Yeah, ‘m sorry, babe. Didn’t mean to wake you.” He slowly walks into the bedroom, hands plunged deep into his jean pockets. “We, uh, we made the plan, if you wanna hear it.”

“Maybe later,” you say, sitting up and beckoning him over to sit next to you on the bed. “Can I tell you about a good dream I just had?”

He raises his eyebrows. “No Vecna?”

“No Vecna.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. “I’d love to hear it.”

“Well,” you begin, kissing his neck, “it involved you…and me…making each other feel really good.” You let your hand drift to the seam of his pants, and he immediately stiffens, whimpering at your touch. “I want you, Steve.”

“Baby, b-baby,” he stammers, palming himself. “Are you sure? I know today’s…it’s been a lot.”

You shift so that you’re straddling his thighs, sucking a bruise at his collarbone. “So fucking sure.”

Steve slips his middle finger into your cotton panties and runs it along your folds, making you moan. He finds your clit and rubs slow, methodical circles. “Wanna make you feel good, beautiful girl,” he murmurs, using his free hand to grip your thigh. “You take whatever you need, okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum, slowly rocking your hips and increasing the pressure on your sensitive bundle. “‘S perfect…so perfect. Your hands are like magic.” You bring your arms to his shoulders, steadying yourself. He blushes at your praise before sliding the finger into your pussy, pumping it in and out. He starts at a slow pace, gradually increasing it as you clench around him. “R-Right there, Steve.” You start to bring your own hand to your clit, now aching with need, but he stops you, using his thumb to continue where he’d left off.

“Sorry, baby; just got distracted,” he admits sheepishly. He removes his finger from you, and you whine at the loss of contact. He chuckles as he tugs off your panties. “Poor thing. Don’t worry, love; just need to get myself ready.” He shimmies out of his jeans and his briefs, with much more ease than you got out of your panties–thanks, pregnancy–and brings you to the edge of the bed. You wrap your legs around his lithe waist as he lines himself up with your entrance.

Steve pushes inside of you, stretching you deliciously. The moan that escapes your mouth is downright filthy, and you cover your face in embarrassment. He lifts your hands away, saying nothing but peppering your face with kisses.

You pull him closer so he has to rest his palms on the mattress as he thrusts into you, chanting your name and I love you over and over.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says, eyes rolling backwards as he bottoms out inside you. “Can’t believe you’re mine. Can’t believe you’re my girl, holy shit.”

“K-Keep touching me,” you instruct him, and he continues rubbing your clit as he pistons his hips. You feel yourself inching towards the finish, though you can’t move your body as like you used to. “Little more pressure, baby. Please.”

“Don’t have to beg me,” he groans, “although I can’t say I hate it.”

“Please, please, please,” you cry, “need all of you, Steve. Your hands, your cock, everything.” Your pussy clenches around his length as you come, shivering with pleasure.

Steve’s orgasm doesn’t happen quite as easily. As soon as he gets you off, something changes. It’s as though you can see the cogs turning in his head; he’s clearly overthinking something.

“You okay?” you ask. “If something’s wrong, you can tell me the truth.”

“Nothing wrong with you,” he says, still thrusting into you, desperate to stay hard. “Just keep worrying that we’re doing something we shouldn’t be.” He tries to avert his gaze from your bump, the bump that’s growing Eddie’s baby, but you catch him.

You shake your head. “We can stop if you want,” you assure him, though you’d be lying if you said you weren’t dreading the moment he was no longer inside you, “but you and I…we’re so right.”

“I know. I just wonder if he’d be mad at me, y’know?” Steve admits, pulling out slowly, much to your dismay.

You think back to what Wayne told you earlier in the evening. “Eddie would want me to be with someone who loves me and Little Bean. He would want me to be happy.” You bring your hand to Steve’s. “And you’re that person, Steve. You’re my person.”

Steve smiles at this, pumping himself with breathy grunts. “Keep talking, babe. Keep telling me how bad you need me.”

“Can’t you feel it?” you taunt. “‘M so wet for you, Stevie. All for you. Just need you back inside me.” He presses the tip of his cock into your needing pussy, hissing as your walls envelop him. “Want you nice and deep.”

“Gonna give it to you,” he moans, dragging himself in and out. “Gonna fill up this pretty little pussy till I’m dripping out of you. Everyone’s gonna know you’re mine.”

“All yours, Stevie,” you echo, and no sooner do you say it is he spilling his hot load into you, sputtering and swearing.

He slows down his pace, withdrawing with a sigh before helping you fully onto the bed and cleaning you up.

“I love you, Steve,” you murmur into the crook of his neck, belly resting on his stomach and arm draped over his hairy chest.

“I love you more.” He kisses your temple, and the two of you fall asleep naked in each other’s arms.

“I’m all yours, Stevie.”

You sit up quickly at the sound of a condescending voice, tone pinched and mocking. “Who’s there?”

“Oh, Stevie, I belong to you. Even though I’m having Eddie’s baby, I’ll forget all about him. Like he never existed.”

Steve wakes up at that. “Did you say something?”

You shake your head, trying to speak, but you’re interrupted by the same voice. This time, it’s dramatically deeper.

“Everyone’s gonna know you’re mine. You’re King Steve’s, baby. King FUCKING Steve’s! Wooooo!”

Eddie appears at the doorway, covered in mud and dust. His curly hair is matted with blood. “What a nice show, huh? My girlfriend and my friend fucking each other while she’s knocked up with my kid. Real classy.”

“He’s not real,” Steve mutters. “It’s not really him.”

Not-Eddie chuckles meanly. “I bet you’re waiting for him. Waiting for me to turn into him. But it ain’t gonna happen. Because he’s not here.”

“Go away!” you feebly yell. “You’re not Eddie!”

“Of course not,” he sneers. “Because I’m dead. And you left my body here to rot. So he’s using it, using me to command his army. And we’ll destroy you and this stupid fuckin’ town.”

“Wh-What are you saying?” Steve stammers, grabbing your hand. “You’re like his…his puppet?”

Not-Eddie flashes a bloody grin. “Ironic, isn’t it? He’s my puppet master. My source of self-destruction.” Suddenly, something flashes behind his eyes. The coldness dissipates, and fear sets in. “Help me. He has my soul. Please, someone help–”

And then he’s gone.

#ghostin #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #fanfic

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gravedigginbbydoll · 4 months

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FELIZ AÑO NUEVO MIS AMORES

This year has been insane for me. I started writing on this app, met some amazing people, formed amazing friendships, got accepted to grad school, got married, and much more.

I’ve struggled a LOT this year with family and irl friendships and depression, along with imposter syndrome and anxiety over what the rest of my life will look like…

But through it, I found this website and so many stories, I got back into my passion for writing… hell working on fanfiction and some of y’all’s own writing inspired me to start an original romance novel ! (It’s very shoddy but I still love it)

I’m so grateful for so many of you but I have to call out of a few of you…bc Jesus Christ id lose my head without y’all.

@eddies-house for always talking to me, understanding me SO DEEPLY, and rambling with me over headcanons. You’re one of the most beautiful, sweetest, big hearted, and creative people I know. Also your imagination and headcanons never fail to get me feeling so emotionalllll. You deserve the world and I hope this new year brings you that and more.

@xxhellfirebunnyxx for always talking to me and listening, fangirling with me, and embracing the cringe. You’re so gorgeous and hilarious, and your smut writing is beyond words. You’re an insanely awesome person and mom (literally how do you do it?!?).You consistently have me dying of laughter as well as giggling and kicking my feet at your smut. The new year better treat you right or I’m kicking its ass.

@cryingglightningg we mostly just recently started talking but I really love our conversations and your wit and outlook on things. I always find our conversations interesting and you’re such a supportive person. I really hope we continue to talk and everything, and I hope the new year is kind to you.

@ghost-proofbaby wellllll I’ll be honest… I was a huge fan of you before we spoke, I obsessed over 24 hours and then The Shire is Burning. You inspired me to actually start writing on here ! And you’ve been nothing but kind AND hilarious every time we speak. I can’t thank you enough for helping me re realize my love for writing. <3 may you have the most wonderful new year.

Some honorable mentions (we may not talk often or at all but I wish you all the best and you’re all literally so amazing and talented): @hellfire--cult @munsonology @reidsbtch @spookykoolkat @eddiesxangel @chrrymunson @bettyfrommars @babygorewhore @lokis-army-77 @trashmouth-richie @blueywrites @storiesbyrhi

And many more (if I haven’t included you, please know this also goes out to every mutual, every person who reads my writing, and everyone who follows me and anyone who may stumble upon this post, I just am super bad at names and I don’t want to drag this on too long): have an amazing new year and an incredible night! You’re all so wonderful and sweet and I can’t imagine life without this fandom and community!

#graves personal #stranger things #eddie munson #thank you #seriously.#graves personal post #happy new year

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

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Offline Meeting - Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: Gamer!Steve and gamer!reader have played online together for months, and they finally get the chance to meet in person at a gaming convention.

Note: I have to preface this by saying I am not a gamer whatsoever, My extent of gaming is The Sims. So, I had to enlist the help of @inourtownofhawkins, @trashmouth-richie, and @munson-blurbs! I hope my writing reflects all the wonderful help they gave me. Also, I know there's no such place as the "Orlando Convention Center" for any Floridians reading this, but I figured if I said "Orange County" people would assume California lol. I definitely channeled a bit of Keys from Free Guy for this as well. And a very special thankful to @trashmouth-richie for making the lovely text graphic for me! Finally, this fic is dedicated to my lovely wifey @inourtownofhawkins 💕

Warnings: my poor attempt at pretending to know about gaming, video game violence, smut, p in v, minors DNI, language, i think that's it?

Words: 6k

It’s easy to fall in love with the idea of falling in love. It’s easy to fall in love with the idea of a person. And when the only way you communicate is through social media or gaming, it’s easy to only see the good parts of someone and pretend there’s nothing bad. You’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop with Steve. Or ready for him to find something that he doesn’t like about you which will make him stop talking to you. So, when he tells you that he got a ticket to come to the gaming con that you’re attending in a few weeks, conflicting feelings come up.

At first, you’re ecstatic that you’re going to see Steve. The two of you have talked so much about wishing you lived closer together so you could spend time with someone who understands how you feel about gaming in real life. Online is great, but you both know in person is better. But the more you thought about hanging out with Steve in real life, the more caught up in your head you got about it. What if he didn’t like you in person? What if he only liked you when he had the ability to log off?

You’ve been talking for over nine months now, ever since you met in the lobby for both of your favorite game, Upside Down House. The two of you made a great team in the game, trying to defend a small family home from a Demogorgon that pops out of walls all over the house. Steve’s weapon of choice was always a bat, and he would stun them so you could take them out with a shotgun. You made such a good duo and had such fun playing together that you’d decided to voice chat with one another while playing, and even led to exchanging social medias and connected on discord.

Talking to Steve was the highlight of your day. Finishing your classes for the day, you’d crash in your dorm and grab your headset, praying he was online as well. Messaging each other throughout the day just wasn’t the same. You wanted to hear his voice, play alongside him. Whenever you’d successfully beat a level, he’d become so happy and giddy that it would make your stomach flutter with the force of a hundred butterflies. The worst part of your day was always when your roommate would come back to your room, and you’d have to log off for the night so she could get some sleep. Steve would still chat with you through discord, but again, it wasn’t the same not hearing his voice. He was always your first and last text of the day.

As the con gets closer, Steve talks more and more about how excited he is. You are too, but you’re also filled with more anxiety and worry. Begging your roommate to take you shopping for a new outfit and teach you how to do your makeup, you start to gain a little bit more confidence in seeing Steve.

When you wake up the day of the con, a smile sticks to your face and there’s a bounce in your step. The whole drive over to the convention center you’re dancing along to the radio in your car, simultaneously dreaming about seeing Steve and trying not to think about it at the same time. You’d know his face anywhere, even having never seen it in person, and you wonder what your immediate reaction will be when your eyes land on him.

The traffic for parking at Orlando Convention Center is backed up all the way to highway 528, and you start to get jittery as you wait in the line of cars. He’s probably already there, you think to yourself. Is he already inside? Is he excited to see you? Is he nervous? Is he already having too much fun and forgot he’s even going to be seeing you?

Your palms are sweating by the time you park your car outside Concourse A. The hot Florida sun doesn’t help you as you walk across the crowded parking lot. The line to get in feels like it takes forever, and you’re convinced you’re going to throw up all the butterflies that have been swirling around inside of you.

Once you’ve got your badge around your neck, you dodge cosplayers – telling yourself you’ll admire them later – and pull out your phone to shoot a message to Steve.

The thirty seconds it takes to get a reply feel like an eternity.

For the first time in your twenty-something years it feels like you’ve forgotten how to walk. Shoes stumble over one another, the solid slab floor is somehow sucking your feet in like quicksand. Bumbling through the crowd, your eyes scan the faces around you for the brown eyes that melt your heart every time you see them on your phone’s screen. For that hair that tempts you to run your fingers through it more than you ever wanted to touch anything in your life.

Right in the middle of a large crowd, your sneakers squeak to a halt, annoying the people around you and forcing them to go around. Steve’s there, in person, in the same space as you. He hasn’t spotted you yet, craning his neck to look over people, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. Perfect isn’t a word you’d ever prescribed to anyone before, but it’s surely how Steve looks just standing there. His jeans are slightly too big, hanging low on his hips, and his navy t-shirt framing his broad shoulders in the most flattering way.

All thoughts leave your head as Steve turns his head and locks eyes with you. Absolutely frozen to the spot, the growing grin on his face is the only thing that breaks you out of your trance. He takes a step towards you, and you find yourself barreling towards him as well. How were you supposed to greet him? Handshake? Hug? Awkwardly standing there and saying hi? Steve makes the choice for you as he grabs you and pulls your body against his. Positive that he can feel your heart thrumming against his chest, your arms cling around his neck and hold onto him like you’ll never let him go. And you don’t want to.

“Finally,” Steve says as you reluctantly pull away from one another.

“It’s so good to see you. For real.” Without thinking about it, your hand comes up and cups the side of his face. He leans into your touch and your heart soars into your throat. You let your hand drop from his face and he’s quick to pick it up in his own hand. Steve’s thumb rubs along the back of your hand and it sends tingles up your spine.

“There’s a panel on Upside Down House in half an hour,” he tells you. “And after that there’s a Junkyard Babysitter tournament in the next hall and the winner gets an Xbox gift card. I already signed us up.”

“Oh, you’re so good at that game! The prize is as good as yours.”

Steve gives you a bashful smile and it sets every nerve in your body on fire. He gives a small tug on your hand and starts to head for the doors.

“Come on, let’s go get some seats for the panel.”

It turns out that you and Steve could’ve run that panel. You were both just as knowledgeable about the game as the hosts, could have easily answered all the questions that were asked by fellow panelists, and even managed to give tips and insight that no one else in the room had.

“So, when the trail of lights leads you right up to the front door, that’s a decoy. You have to head to the left because that’s where the Demogorgon pops out from.”

“The fire trap in the hallway is great for distracting! But it won’t kill him on its own. You’ve got to use another weapon too.”

Once the panel is over, you and Steve get seats next to each other at the tournament. The room fills fairly quickly so you and Steve have a short chat about strategy. Your character would take cover in the hollowed-out school bus in the junkyard, and Steve’s character would hide behind the junked cars surrounding the area as he makes his way towards the dangerous center. It’s a play you’ve both used before, so you have a fair amount of confidence in it.

There are about twenty people in this tournament, but you don’t look at any of them around the room. Only Steve. He gives you a reassuring nod before the game starts, then both of your characters are running to their respective locations you agreed upon. Six characters are brought down upon the initial onslaught. Fourteen left.

“Behind you,” you tell Steve. His character spins around in time to take down the other player with his trusty baseball bat. The back door of the bus is being caved in, so your character picks up the closest weapon – which is a flamethrower – and waits for the intruder to be in sight.

“There’s two out there,” Steve warns you as he sneaks his character over to get a better view of the bus. Your character lifts the flamethrower and aims it right where you’re expecting the others’ heads to be. The metal is finally bashed in, and the flamethrower takes both characters down with one burst of flame. You climb the ladder that’s in the middle of the bus, not high enough to stick your head out the top, but enough to be better prepared for an ambush.

That ambush arrives when three players jump on top of the bus, circling you on the ladder below.

“Shit.”

Steve’s quick to get his character to the rescue, though. The first thing he does once he’s on the roof is knock one of the three players inside the bus so you can take care of him no problem. Your flamethrower gets the job done. Hiking it over your shoulder, you keep a tight grip on the flamethrower as you climb the ladder to join Steve and the other two on the roof. The player closest to you doesn’t know you’ve come up behind him, so you take advantage and kick his legs out from underneath him, and when he’s lying flat on his back, you pull the trigger.

“Damn it!”

Steve’s frustrated call has you turning to look at his character, but it’s already too late. The other player is steadily draining his life force and even if you killed him now, Steve’s character would still die. But you go for it anyway. You run at the other player to get as much momentum as you can and ram him off the bus roof. Both he and Steve’s characters die, fading from the playing field.

Your character climbs down the ladder into the bus for safety, but grabs Steve’s discarded bat when she does. The bottom right corner of your screen tells you that there’s only five players left. They’re out there, either hiding like you, or getting into fights. Your character slowly makes her way to the broken back door of the bus and peeks out. It looks like there’s someone hiding in the bushes closest to the bus. Gripping your controller tight, you have your character swap out her weapons for a shotgun. You always have the best aim with these. Your character crawls to the very edge of the bus and balances on one knee, holding the shotgun up just right to get the target in the viewfinder. With a squeeze of the trigger, the total number of players has gone down to four. Sticking the shotgun and bat in your bag, you carry the flamethrower as you make your way to the other end of the bus. There’s no one visible from the dirty and cracked windows, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t near.

There’s movement from behind one of the rusty old cars. Another player must have noticed this too because there’s the sound of a shot before the screen is letting you know there are three players remaining. Feeling like a sitting duck, you slip out the back way of the bus and slowly creep around to the hood. Head on the swivel, your character’s back is pressed against the cool yellow metal, and she attempts to make the quietest footfalls possible.

“Oh, shit! Do you know who that is?” It’s spoken somewhere in the room around you, loud enough that you hear it even with your full concentration on the screen in front of you.

“Whoa,” Steve says. Your eyes dart to him and are back on the screen in the next instant.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

In the game, you see one player sneak out of a trunk of one of the cars. It’s one of the worst places to hide because it’s so obvious when you come out of it and the hinges squeak constantly while they’re being moved. You line up your flamethrower and have it positioned just right on your shoulder when a rusty pipe impales the character, leaving the remaining number of players at two.

“It’s Patrice Harlan,” Steve tells you. Your eyes almost bug out of your head.

“The Patrice Harlan? The guy who has won thousands and thousands of dollars by being incredible at these types of games?”

“Yeah,” Steve says with a sigh. Patrice was all over the gaming forums, known as one of the all-time best. He was one of the lucky ones who made a successful career from his gaming. This was seriously impacting your confidence.

“I got this,” you tell yourself, sounding much surer than you feel. Your character searches for Patrice’s character. You’re the only ones left. Taking slow, deliberate steps, your character comes around the front of the bus and darts to hide behind a pile of tires. By the sounds in the junkyard, you know Patrice’s character is getting closer. Depending on how close he got or from what angle would determine which weapon would be the most efficient here.

Footsteps boom over to your character. This is it. He has to be right on the other side of the tires. Close proximity. You quickly switch out your weapons until your character is holding Steve’s bat. Your avatar stands up and comes face to face with Patrice’s avatar. She’s smaller than him but that could also come with some perks. Your character grips the bat right in her hand, and using her compact size, crouches down and springs up, jumping high enough to land on the pile of tires. From the vantage point, it’s the perfect place to go for the kill shot. You have her raise the bat up over her head, and as you jump down from the pile she cracks Patrice’s avatar straight down the middle of the skull, causing him to fall flat on his back. Always one to take precautions, you have your character swap out for the shotgun and fire it into the avatar’s chest, sealing the deal.

You won.

The room goes crazy. Steve’s pulling you out of your seat, cupping your face with his hands before he pulls you in for a bone crushing hug that you don’t mind one bit. Other players pat you on the back and offer their congratulations as they walk by. But then you see him. Patrice Harlan. He’s even taller in person than he is online, his buzzed blonde hair catching the bright lights in the room. You’re afraid he’s going to be intimidating, but he walks over to you with a smile and offers you a friendly handshake. It feels insane. To just have beaten a professional to be the champion of one of your favorite games.

The head of the tournament bestows you with your Xbox gift card and you instantly put it in your wallet for safekeeping.

After all the excitement of the win dies down, you turn to Steve and find him looking at you a bit differently. You raise an eyebrow as you take a step towards him.

“You good?” you ask.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve says. His eyes are so dark and the look he’s giving you is not one anyone has ever given you before. It’s not unpleasant, though. “That was, um… Wow. That was really…”

“Yes, really what?” you ask, trying to help him along.

“Really hot,” Steve says, catching you by surprise. Your face flares up and you give your head a shake.

“All I did was win a video game,” you say.

“Yeah, but you pretty much beat the best of the best. And it’s really turning me on,” Steve adds with a laugh. The heat in your face dials up but you allow Steve to take your hand in his again.

Steve holds onto your hand the rest of the day. Only when the occasion absolutely called for it did he let you go, only to intertwine your fingers together again as soon as he could. Through every panel, strolling through the marketplace, even eating dinner together, he keeps his soft hold on you. Even though it’s been going on for hours, your tummy is still in the most pleasant knots possible as you feel his warm skin against yours.

As the con winds down for the day, you’re starting to dread saying goodbye to Steve. Even if it’s only until tomorrow. But after spending such an amazing day with him, leaving his side for even a moment sounds like torture.

“So, uh, which way is your car? My hotel is that way.” Steve points in the general direction where there are at least four hotels practically on top of each other.

“I’m parked right here. I can give you a ride,” you say.

Steve slides into the passenger's seat and the drops of sweat on his forehead make you chuckle as you put on your seatbelt.

“Not used to this hot weather, huh?”

“And the sun isn’t even out anymore,” Steve says, gesturing to the dark sky.

“Welcome to Florida.”

You pull out of the convention center parking and turn down I-Drive to get to the hotels.

“What’s the temperature back home?” you ask him.

“Uh, lemme see.” He picks up his phone and swipes to the weather app. “In Hawkins it is currently 62 degrees.”

“Shit, add at least twenty to that here. Maybe twenty-five.” It’s too quick before you pull into the hotel parking lot. You’re not ready to say goodnight. “What’s Hawkins like?”

You’ve both talked about your hometowns with each other before, but you’re grasping at straws to spark a conversation to extend your time together. Even if it’s only five more minutes.

“It’s small,” he says. “Pretty boring little town.”

“And not as warm as here,” you say.

“Jesus Christ, no,” Steve says with a laugh. He licks over his lips and glances down at his lap. When he looks back at you, he looks nervous. “Do you, um, want to come in? I-I mean we could play a game or something.”

Or something. You want the something.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

The walk to Steve’s room is quiet; both of you riddled with nerves and anticipation. He unlocks the door and lets you in first, like a gentleman. You take in the room as you walk in. It’s a little messy, suitcase open and items strewn about the small space. The temperature is cool, but it makes sense that he’d keep the room like this since he’s so unused to the heat outside. There’s a king bed and your eyes can’t seem to stay off of it for more than a moment at the time. A chair sits at a small table in the corner, but you perch yourself on the edge of the bed, hoping that signals to Steve what you want without you having to say it out loud.

Steve rubs at the back of his neck and tosses his room key down the counter that’s supporting the television.

“So, uh, what do you want to do?” he asks.

“You” doesn’t seem like an appropriate answer to give, even if it’s true.

“Watch a movie?” you suggest.

“Sure.” Steve grabs the remote and you kick off your shoes, scooting up to the top of the bed. He joins you, shoulder pressed up against yours, and flips through the channels to see what’s on. Just sitting next to him on the bed like this has your nerves burning in excitement.

He settles on some movie with weird alien creatures but you’re not paying attention. The heat radiating off Steve’s body is all you can focus on. You make the mistake of glancing over at him and your eyes lock onto his lips. They look so soft and such a pretty shade of pink. Steve reaches up and rubs at his eye, which has you now staring at his hands. His fingers are long, and you know they must be skilled from all the video games he plays.

Trying to relieve some of the ache that’s growing between your legs, you shift on the bed, squeezing your thighs together and it causes you to bump your shoulder against Steve’s. The contact makes you feel like you've swallowed a fistful of pop rocks; tingly and jumpy from the inside out. Steve looks over at you and your traitorous eyes drop down to his mouth. He licks over his lips again – this time on purpose you think – and you know he clocks the way your breath hitches. A smirk comes to those beautiful rosy lips, and you find yourself leaning in closer to him.

Steve reaches up and cups the side of your face in his hand, leaning the rest of the way to press his mouth against yours. The kiss starts off soft, lips dancing against one another, careful and timid. A small moan breaks from the back of your throat and it gives Steve the courage to swipe his tongue against your upper lip. You open your lips to him and lower yourself down to the pillows, tangling your fingers in his hair to bring him with you.

Goosebumps spread up your arms as Steve licks his way into your mouth and the kiss goes from shy to exploring. His hand rests on your hip and he lets out a whine as you suck on his bottom lip. Steve slots a leg between yours, which you gladly spread for him, but you want to let out a frustrated whimper when his thigh isn’t close enough to grind your hips against.

When you give a small, experimental tug to Steve’s hair, he moans into your mouth and bucks his hips against yours. You smile in satisfaction against him, and he pulls back to look down at your gleeful face.

“I could feel that smile,” he tells you, making you giggle and shrug your shoulders innocently. “You like teasing me, huh?”

“Me teasing you?” You pout. “You need to hike your thigh up about four inches.”

Steve looks down at where his leg is, then four inches up. His playful smirk somehow turns you on even more.

“What? You want to rut against my leg?” he asks.

“Yes,” you whine.

“Such an impatient girl,” he says as he leans in for another kiss. This one is quick and sweet. “I’ll take care of you if you want me to.”

You nod your head, eyes falling closed as you do. He gently taps your cheek until you open your eyes.

“Words, sweetheart. I need you to use your words.”

“Want you in me,” you rush out in a breath.

“Fuck,” Steve mumbles, dropping his forehead to rest against yours. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Steve. Please.”

“Who am I to say no to that?” He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose before getting up and rummaging through his suitcase. There’s a condom wrapped in its shiny foil in Steve’s hand as he comes back to the bed.

“You always carry those on you or were you expecting this to happen?” you tease.

“I was hopeful,” he admits with a shrug. “Knew I wanted it to happen. Was praying you did too.”

“Of course I did.” You reach up and tangle your fingers in his hair again. “I should warn you that I don’t have a lot of experience, though.”

“Me neither,” Steve admits. “But fuck, I want to learn your body.”

You pull him back down against your lips, and your hands slide from his hair all the way down to his belt. Tongues tangling, you nimbly unfasten the silver buckle and move on to the button of his jeans. Steve’s hands come to slide up your stomach, gliding underneath the material of your shirt. His thumbs trace the skin just below your breasts and it makes your hands stutter over his zipper.

Steve kicks his jeans off his legs before helping you yank your shirt over your head. His mouth instantly attaches to your neck, biting and sucking and trying to find the most sensitive spot to drive you wild. Fingers grasping at his shirt, you tug it up as high as you can before Steve breaks the contact with your skin just to get it off. He goes right back to his work though, making sure you’re going to have the best hickey he’s ever given. Your jeans are next to come off, both of you working in tandem to rid the denim from your body. Now you’re left in only your bra and panties, Steve in his boxers.

Tangling your fingers in his irresistible soft brown tresses once again, you wrap your legs around Steve’s and pull his hips down to press against yours. Both of you moan as his clothed cock brushes over your panty-clad core.

“Eager, huh?” Steve pants out against your neck.

“You have no idea,” you sigh out, letting your eyes slip closed.

“Think I do,” Steve says between swiping his tongue repeatedly over your pulse point. “Wanted you since I first heard your voice. Sounded so fucking hot.”

He rocks his hips against yours, wetness pooling between your legs. The soft whimpers you let out only egg him on.

“Then I saw a picture of you on your Instagram,” Steve says. “Fuck, made me so hard.”

“D-Did you touch yourself to it?” Even to your own ears, your voice sounds wholly wrecked.

“Touched myself every time I opened your Instagram, baby.” His kisses trail up to behind your ear and an involuntary shiver runs down your body. “Thinking about getting you in this position. Getting you all worked up and panting beneath me. Making you beg me to touch you.”

“Fuck, please touch me,” you cry out. Steve smirks against your skin and trails his hand down to the waistband of your panties.

“I’d rip these if they weren’t so sexy,” he says, finger dipping just inside the black lace. “But maybe I’ll just take them home with me instead.”

Steve sits up and you whine as his body warmth and weight is taken away. He quickly slips your panties off though, and the coolness hitting your wet center has you shifting your hips. When you look up at him, Steve’s eyes are almost entirely black, that beautiful brown totally consumed. His gaze is hungry, and you take advantage of his gaze to slowly strip yourself of your bra. You notice the catch in his breath as you toss the matching black lace garment off the side of the bed. Fully naked below him, he scans his eyes up and down your body, taking in every little detail of your bare skin. It’s a bit scary, being so vulnerable with him, but Steve’s never made you feel anything less than special.

“Jesus, you’re perfect,” Steve says quietly. He quickly sheds himself of his boxers, leaving your mouth watering as you eye his impressive cock. Even though you don’t have a ton of experience with sex, you’re still confident in saying Steve is big. His cheeks turn a pale shade of pink as you take the entirety of his beauty in and when your eyes come back up to his, he flops down next to you, making you giggle. He shoots you a devastating smile as his large hands reach out and pull your body on top of his.

“Can I put my mouth on you, baby?” you ask Steve softly. He lets out a guttural groan from the back of his throat and his eyes squeeze closed. You feel his cock twitch against your thigh, precum pooling between your skin and his.

“Shit, I want that so bad,” he rasps. “But there’s no way I’d last, and I want to be in you.”

“I want you in me, too,” you say in between kisses to his throat. “I’ll just have to suck you off later.”

Steve lets out a breathy laugh as his hand blindly reaches for the condom next to you on the bed.

“You keep talking like that and I won’t last long either.”

Pushing yourself up to sit on his thighs, you pluck the condom from his hands and rip open the wrapper. Eyes focused on the small foil package, you don’t notice Steve’s hand slipping down until his fingers are gliding through your folds. A gasp escapes you and you drop the condom on Steve’s chest, making him smirk in self-satisfaction. His middle finger brushes over your clit and your hips buck forward.

“Feel good, baby?” Steve coos. “Fuck, you’re so wet. All for me?”

“Yes, Steve,” you let out in a breathy moan. “Had me wet for you all day.”

“Only fair since I’ve been half hard all day,” Steve muses. “And when you beat Harlan this afternoon? God, I wanted to fuck you right then and there.”

Unable to form words, you just nod as a whine leaves you. Fingers scramble along Steve’s skin until you find the condom again. It’s hard to concentrate slipping it on Steve’s cock as his hand keeps sliding from your clit to your fluttering hole.

Steve’s dick twitches as you roll the condom on, and he removes his hand from between your legs. You want to whine at the loss, but you lift yourself up to line him up with your entrance. The head catches against your hole and you feel your abdominal muscles tighten in pleasure. Moving slowly, you start to lower yourself, his length stretching you in a way you’ve never experienced before. Your eyes shut as the sting quickly switches to pleasure, your walls adjusting to fit his size.

“Fuck,” Steve groans out, eyes rolling back in his head.

An exhale leaves your lungs as you finally take him in up to the hilt. Fully seated on him, you need to still yourself to let your body accommodate the welcome intrusion.

“Steve, you’re so big,” you whine. His cock twitches inside of you at your words and it makes you bite down on your bottom lip.

“You feel like heaven, baby,” Steve says. His breathing is labored and his hands grip at your hips tightly, anchoring himself. “So warm and tight for me. Fuck, so wet too. Can feel you dripping on my balls.”

“Make me feel so full. S’so good.”

Your hips begin to rock against Steve, planting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. It’s obvious Steve is holding back, lip caught between his teeth and his eyes screwed shut. His thumbs are digging so hard into your hip bones that you know you’re going to have two small black and blue marks tomorrow.

When you moan out a string of Steve’s name over and over, he can’t keep his composure anymore and fucks his hips up into you. You let out a whimper as he reaches impossibly deep inside of you.

“Shit, s-sorry,” Steve says.

“No, don’t be,” you answer. “W-Want you to feel good. Want you to do what you want.”

Steve snakes an arm around your waist and uses his other arm to push himself up, his back smacking against the headboard. Now you’re seated more comfortably in his lap and your clit has a better angle to rub against his pubic bone.

“Fuck, Steve.” You speed up your hips, trying to get him to rock up into you. His hand sneaks up to grab at your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple as you drop your head back in ecstasy. “Harder.”

The restraint Steve was barely holding on to snaps and his hips buck up against yours, driving his cock deeper and faster inside of you. Muscles in your lower body tightening, you drop your head forward to rest on Steve’s shoulder.

“Close, baby,” you speak against his skin.

“Me too – fuck – me too.”

As his hips piston into you, you grind yourself down harder, letting your clit rub deliciously against his body. You feel yourself teetering towards the edge and the clenching of your walls around him has Steve seeing stars.

Screaming out Steve’s name, your vision fills with white as you come hard all over his cock. The prettiest whines leave Steve’s mouth as he orgasms right along with you, twitching inside of you as he fills the condom.

Both of you need a moment to catch your breath, and you lift your head from his shoulder to meet his eyes. Steve’s lips quirk up in a satisfied smile and the pair of you let out a soft laugh at the same time.

“That was…holy shit, that was amazing,” Steve says.

“So fucking good,” you agree.

His hand cups your face and he brings you in for a tender kiss on the lips, the softness making you melt after your earth shattering orgasm. You feel in complete bliss as you lean against Steve’s chest, letting him wrap you up in his arms. He nuzzles his nose against yours and you giggle at the tickle you feel as his eyelashes brush over your cheek.

“You really gonna take my panties home with you?” you ask.

“If that’s okay with you,” he says with a peck to your lips.

“As long as I get to keep something of yours.”

“I’d offer you a hoodie, but I doubt you’d ever wear it in this sauna of a state,” he says, making you laugh.

“How about a t-shirt I can sleep in?” you offer.

“Perfect.”

You ease yourself off of Steve’s lap, both of you hissing as he slips out of you. He pulls off the condom, ties it up, and gets up to toss it in the trash. Eyes tracking him as he moves around the hotel room, you lay back on the bed and admire how the thin sheen of sweat is making him glow in the dim lamplight. When he looks back to you, you raise your arms to show him that you want him to come back to you for cuddles.

“Two seconds,” Steve says, slipping into the bathroom. The fact that he takes longer than that makes you pout, arms dropping back down to the bed. He steps back into the room carrying a washcloth and wearing the cutest pair of glasses you’ve ever seen.

“Well, hello,” you say in a flirty tone as he comes over to you. He smiles as he places the warm cloth at the apex of your thigh.

“I think I squeezed my eyes shut too tight before,” he explains with a shrug as he gently cleans you up. “Moved my contact and it was bugging me.”

“They’re hot.” He rolls his eyes at your words, and you frown. “I’m not teasing. I mean it.”

Steve stops his movements, looking up at you and raising his eyebrows.

“Really?”

“Really,” you assure him. A shy smile comes to his lips as he tosses the used cloth towards the bathroom.

“When we go for round two, want me to wear them as I eat that pretty pussy out?”

His words have heat shooting straight down to your core, said pussy already ready for him again.

“As long as you wear them while I blow you.”

“Fuck, I’m so glad I came to see you.”

#Steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic

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courtingchaos · 11 months

Text

7:29

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Sister piece to Shared Inflicted Pain and Vulnerable

Warnings: Gun Play. Read that again, gun play. Sex, threats of bodily harm, descriptions of violence, boy howdy I went wild in this one.

A/N: I had some prime time headcannoning happening with @dr-aculaaa and @trashmouth-richie and a lot of it bled into this and THIS ISN’T EVEN THE WIP WE WERE GOING ON ABOUT.

Cars rumble up the driveway slowly. The snow falls silently across the open garage door. You’ve been standing there watching long enough that a small drift has started forming around the soles of your boots. The cold burns your face like normal but your eyes especially today. A late night staring at your phone and waiting for a text that didn’t come until sunrise.

Out. Sent and read at 7:29 AM.

You aren’t checking up on him and he doesn’t feel obligated to tell you shit but there it stands.

Out. 7:29 AM.

The only person who’s given you any kind of space or grace is Ty and that’s only because he’s actually seen you this morning. Normally either squirreled away in the crawl space or huddled up in your tight corner, the fact that you’ve stood watch for three hours makes him worry. No quips and no sarcasm. No half lidded stare or unsettled long looks. Just that concentration creasing your brows and turning down your mouth, wide eyes staring into the frozen white yard. Ty had tried to give you a coffee, steaming in the cold, with about half the pint of cream in there like you normally do but you’d just shaken your head once. Didn’t even turn to look at him when you said no thank you. An actual ‘no, thank you Ty’, which is why he’s in your fathers office telling him about you being a gargoyle this morning.

“She has’t yelled at Donny or anyone. At all.” He tells him earnestly.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Normally I’d say yes but…somethin’ feels off about her.”

“Everything’s off about her.”

You don’t move when the trucks stop and the men pile out. Three elder brothers looking worse for wear and ten sheriffs officers pulling out three big gunnysacks. You watch them passively, eyes flicking between doors opening and closing. Someone snaps a tailgate shut and you shake your hand out of your coat pocket to check your watch.

9:47 AM.

Out. 7:29 AM.

Finally you see Roy’s big figure fold out of a driver seat. He leans in and pulls out his hat, gives it a dusting before settling it on his head just right. He’s making measured moves, delaying the walk inside to talk to your father and brothers. You watch him debate on a cigarette, tapping the carton once and then pausing before pushing the single smoke back in. Tosses the box back into the cab of the truck and gently closes the door. He locks it over his shoulder when he starts his slow walk up to the garage.

“Where is he?” You ask.

“Working.” He replies.

You don’t meet eyes. He doesn’t stop. You keep standing watch and Roy goes in to talk to your family about the things he misjudged.

It’s after 11 AM now and your fathers office is too full. You and four dipshits and Roy and two sheriffs. Neither are Gator, and Roy seems unfazed by that. You stand off to the side, always out of the way just in case, and you listen to Roy get loud. It’s your fathers turn and then your brothers kick off and very suddenly there’s a vice grip on your bicep. It yanks you forward and makes you lurch off balance. The big spade of a hand wraps tighter when it drags you in front of your fathers desk and everyone stops moving.

“You see this?” Roy shakes you once. “This is fuckin’ collateral. The only thing that works around here is about to get taken away if you don’t explain just what in the blue fuck happened out there.”

You can’t help the genuine surprise that crosses your face. You won’t shake and you won’t whine but you do flash your wide eyes up at Roy. He towers over you and your family now. He’s lowered his voice, no longer yelling just making his point clear. His hand tightens further around your arm and the small gasp you let out goes unnoticed by the men in the room.

“Now the rest of the boys are gonna be up here in about five minutes. You’ve got that long to walk your ass out to your garage so you can explain to me why I wasn’t able to get in.” Roy continues to stare your father down and starts counting out loud after a few seconds when no one seems to understand his threat. It kicks everyone into movement and the office clears before Roy or you make a sound.

“This is just business sweetheart.” He still pulls you along but at least you have your footing again.

One of the clocks in the shop reads 11:30 AM so you’ve only been collateral for less than an hour. Roy keeps you close and you wonder if he’s just waiting for Gator to show up before he pulls a firearm. You think Roy’s the type to make him do that kind of thing, mean son of a bitch that he is. He knows you two circle each other like predators fighting for territory and maybe he wants to see his boy win. You hold no ideas that Roy would know anything about Gator and his midnight promises.

“Now you know something Mr. Williams, I do believe we’re both being taken for a ride.”

“You don’t say.” Your father mutters, both men bent over the hood of a car examining a stack of blueprints. The yelling hadn’t continued past the office but Roy did keep you in his grip. It’s loosened enough that you can turn to watch the final truck make its way up the long drive.

All four doors open and the last of his crew crawl out. You can see those brunette locks bobbing around behind the bed of the truck, all mussed up from him running his hands through it probably. It isn’t until he finally makes the corner, heading for the garage that you see his face clearly.

Squinting in the morning light, his right eye is turning purple. There’s a smear of dried blood on his cheek from his nose. Lip split and swollen and there’s a weird tightening of your chest. He’s obviously fine, still walking on two feet and still breathing but you can’t stop staring.

Roy noticed your turned head and glances over his shoulder to take in Gators appearance. “Tillman, good of you to join us.” He lets your arm go finally. “Do me a favor and keep an eye on this one?”

The turn of Gator’s head to look at you seems like a lot of effort. There’s a wince under the guise of calmness and you wonder what the rest of his body looks like under his heavy coat. You don’t want to catch his eye out here, don’t want to share a look or a sneer in case it gets weaponized.

“Why?” He asks bluntly and stares at the side of his bosses head.

“Well son, I got a point and a call to make and she’s the lynchpin keepin’ this garage on track today.” Roy gives the two of you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and nods down at Gator’s right thigh. “Do what you’re good at.”

The pause in Gator’s movement is palpable. You notice it, your father and Roy notice it. A slight jerk of his head while he stares his boss down and Roy just raises his eyebrows, asking for confrontation with that same dead smile.

Gator sighs heavy before unclipping the gun and racking the slide, an unnecessary movement so you know he’s buying time. He shifts it into his left hand and presses the muzzle slowly against the back of your head.

Everything goes quiet. It’s a familiar feeling but not welcome, not like the other night. The clearing hadn’t felt this way, not with the cold in your lungs and your neck hot from his mouth.

He wordlessly hands it to you, cold metal heavy in your palm as he points off into the distance at a thick trunk of pine.

You know how to shoot but this is special. It’s his gun that he uses for all the shit Roy asks him to do. It might just be a Glock, but it’s his Glock and that means something in the grand scheme of you two.

“Have you ever had a gun pointed at you?” You shift your shoulders around while you find a comfortable stance.

“‘Course I have.” He scoffs behind you.

“What’d it feel like?” You relax your shoulders and take a deep breath, finger flexing on the trigger. On your exhale you fire and he’s walking up behind you to slide his good hand down your arm. He works that gloved hand into your grip and pulls back slowly. His face on your right side, breathing hot against your ear while he draws the muzzle up on your left. He keeps your hand trapped under his as he gently prods your temple. Even through your beanie you can feel the heat of the gun and you swallow. Even through all your layers he can see your breathing get shallow, his own speeding to keep up. The big clouds puffing out of the two of you dissipate slowly but he can still see you lick your bottom lip before you worry at it.

“Kinda like this.” He whispers against your ear.

Roy makes his phone call and comes back all smiles, genuine this time. He claps your father on the shoulder and the man still seems unfazed. When he turns to Gator and cuts his hand across his neck, clicking at him to put the gun down, there is no pause that time. It’s holstered and safetied without a second glance and your ears ring. You almost feel like you’ve been watching the last eight minutes from outside the garage, not fully inhabiting your body or space.

The danger with Gator is something you normally look forward to. A pressure release that helped clear your head. This was nothing like that, a moment between you two brought on by external forces. You’re starting to understand that feeling you had earlier, the one that’d squeezed your ribcage tight.

“Dad.” You feel like you might be back in your body now even though your voice sounds a mile away. Quiet and shaky you need to get your fathers attention to ask if you can leave. You need him to nod at you and tell you to get the hell out of dodge.

There’s a heavy heat at your back but you won’t turn around and acknowledge Gator. Not right now.

“Father.” Said a little more firmly, the wobble gone from your voice after you take a deep breath. It gets his attention and the look he gives you has a hint of worry around the edges. “Can I leave?”

Your father nods at you and before he can open his mouth to tell you yes you turn on your heel and make for the house.

You thought you’d heard someone walk upstairs while you were busy steaming yourself in the shower. Laid out across your bed is Gator, legs bent over the footboard. He’s obviously awake, heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets and it makes his arms flex in his tight undershirt.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You stand in the doorway toweling your hair. His coat and button up are tossed over his boots in the corner with his holster hung off the back of your desk chair.

“Too much noise.” His lips barely move. Still pressing his hands into his eyes, you can see the pressure on his forming bruise.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” You say, throwing the towel in the pile of laundry by the door. He just grunts. “Thought that was my job.”

He drops his hands and looks down his nose at you. You watch him breathe heavy for a minute before he stares back up at the ceiling on a big exhale. “You doin’ okay?” He’s asks quietly.

“You goin’ soft?” You’re quick to call him out on his bullshit.

That makes him growl while he hefts himself up to sitting. His knuckles, bruised and split, grip the edge of your mattress. “I ain’t soft god damnit. You spun outta there after that fuckin’ asshole-“ He cuts himself off. Looks to the side and stares holes into your bookshelf while you stare holes into the side of his head.

“Oh don’t tell me you care Gator.” You scoff, trying to ignore that tight feeling in your chest again.

“I said I wouldn’t.” He rolls his tongue over his bottom lip a few times before he stands slow. “I told you he couldn’t make me.”

You shrug and tuck your hands under your arms. “Well you didn’t, so let it go.” Neither of you had brought up the ride again. You fully expected him to ignore it or pretend it never happened. Now though he stares heavy at you from your bed, his eyes roaming over the arm that Roy had grasped so lovingly.

“I was wondering if he left a mark on you.” He points a finger, bouncing it toward your arm. The bruise peaks out from under your t-shirt sleeve.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You ask lowly, jutting your chin forward. You slide your hands from your middle into your sweats pockets so he can’t see you picking at the side of your thumbs, your nervous habit brought on by his judgement. He finally looks you in the eye when he starts his walk across the small bedroom. You don’t move until his chest is pressed against yours and makes you step back. He grabs the door over your shoulder and throws it shut so he can crowd you against it.

“Only I get to do that.” He stares down at you.

“So you just get to make up rules about me?” You stare right back at him from under hooded eyes. This is the kind of thing that makes your heart race in a good way. He could pull his gun on you right now and you’d be all smiles. Probably even laugh when he’d press it up under your chin. He wouldn’t shoot you though, that’s the whole point. What everyone seems to miss.

“Yes. You told me so.” He says simply and drags his hand over your shoulder and down your arm till his grip covers the bruise. His fingers dig into the sensitive skin while he flicks his eyes between yours.

“Then what about this?” You grab the right side of his face, thumb resting on the bruised cheekbone. You press down and watch his face scrunch up.

“That’s business.”

“So’s this.” You shake your arm under his hand. “Roy said so.”

When he leans in you expect him to bite, to give you a matching lip to his but it’s a firm press. Dry lips that you’re becoming too familiar with. He still hangs onto your arm, uses it to pull you as close as he can, his breath huffed out across your cheek. He kisses you hard while your hands find their way up his undershirt, fingers skating over hot skin until he flinches away from you.

“That business too?” You lay your hand flat on that tender spot and he lets you go. Pulls his shirt over his head collar first and walks the three steps back to the edge of your bed. He sits heavy and jerks his head to beckon you over.

You don’t follow immediately, instead watching him unbutton his pants while you step out of your sweats. You’ve never seen him fully undressed so the dog tags clinking around on his chest catch you off guard.

“What branch?” You ask, pointing at his chest when he gives you a confused look. Instead of responding, he leans forward and hooks your knee to pull you so you stagger and stand in front of him. He doesn’t give you soft touches or light fingertips, his rough palm rubbing up your unshaved thigh, splayed wide so his fingers inch under the elastic of your underwear on your hip. While he explores, you grab the clutch of metal around his neck and scan it quick before he can snatch it out of your grip.

Tillman, Gator A.

9246106545

O Neg

Roman Catholic

“Catholic?” You raise your eyebrows, jingling the metal around when you catch a small oval between the two tags. He just hums disapprovingly and pulls the chain till the tags clink out of your grip. Instead of looking him in the eyes again you push a finger into a bruise forming on top of his shoulder, silently asking your question again.

“It doesn’t count if it’s business.” He looks up at you, frowning.

“Then you can’t be mad about Roy.” You don’t think you two have ever had a conversation this quiet before, even in the truck. Normally you’re too busy laughing gleefully at him while he pins you against something heavy.

“I’m mad ‘cause he used me.”

“He always uses you.”

“Not like that.” He slides his hand further up to grab your ass and pull you down to straddle his lap. “He knew what he was asking.”

He gets you out of your shirt and keeps you on him. Mouths at your chest and pulls skin between his teeth and makes you hum when he sucks a trail of muddled red down to the tops of your tits. You’ve got your fingers dug into his hair to hold him in place while you roll your hips, hoping he’ll take the hint and throw you off and onto your bed. Instead he grabs your chin, pinches it between his thumb and index finger and holds your attention.

“Just me.” He doesn’t ask. He gives you an open look like he’s waiting for you to nod your head. Instead, “What about you? M’supposed to just let that happen?” You throw your hand at his ribs and that tender spot. “We didn’t talk about you last time.” His small grip on your chin pinches harder. Gator pulls your face down so his lips brush against yours when he talks.

“I don’t let just anyone break my wrist.”

Your first laugh of the day skips across his cheek where it peters off into a breathy kind of whimper when you really think about that. The tears slowly leaking down his temples, hand cradled to his chest and the groan of pain that turned into a long groan of pleasure when he came.

“Say it then.” You challenge him with a harder press of your hand against those bruising ribs. “I’ll get the fuck up right now and leave I swear.”

“Just you.”

He heaves you off of his lap and onto your back. He yanks your underwear off and tosses them before ripping the rest of his clothes off to join them.

Just you.

Your hands dig in at his bruises, looking for a crack you can needle at. He leans into you to mouth at your shoulder before inching down to the ringed bruise and sinking his teeth in. The sensitive skin on the inside of your bicep imprints easily, his teeth sharp enough to make you gasp loudly. You try to jerk away reflexively but he hangs on, grabs your wrist to hold it down to the bed. He sucks on the thin skin once before letting go and running his tongue over the deep mark. Licks at you to sooth the sting and moves down your arm, nipping along until he hits your wrist where he runs his nose along and takes a deep breath. He catches your wide eyed stare before opening his mouth again, wedging your wrist between his teeth. It’s a slow build of pressure but you know if he bites you again like he just did, he’ll draw blood.

“Gator.”

His grip on your arm just tightens along with his teeth, a grin spreading out from behind your wrist. You want to tell him to be careful, for once in his life. The idea of a bleeding mark on your wrist giving you the first pause of your relationship until you notice a softness in his gaze. His cock is heavy against your thigh but neither of you move for friction, just waiting the other out for blood.

“Why did you text me this morning?” It slips out. He just bites down harder. “Were you trying to make me worry?”

He breaks skin and you yell, his teeth tinged pink behind his grin when he lets you go. There’s a role reversal happening when he keeps laughing at you and you keep scowling at him. His tongue sneaks out to run over the bite. He chases a small bead of red down your arm.

“I stayed up all night.”

“You’re up anyway.”

He’s not listening, or he’s being willfully ignorant. “I don’t let anyone else touch me, Gator.”

He drops his arm to his thigh but keeps yours in his grip. His jaw works back and forth like he’s chewing on his thoughts, your red still staining the inside of his lips.

“Not even the shop guys?”

You shake your head. His gaze drops to your wrist held limply in his fist and his face goes blank.

“I don’t care if you’re fucking anyone else, I just wanted…” You trail off quietly, unsure if you want to finish that thought.

“I’m not.” He sounds far away. “I don’t…really care much.”

“I find that hard to believe.” You laugh and he just scowls down at your arm. “I mean, every time you sniff me out you’ve got your hand down my fuckin’ pants.”

He’s tired and in pain. He doesn’t want to get into it. It’s easier to just lay you over a table than to explain his reasoning. It used to just be him and his anger up in his head but you’ve crept into the cracks somehow and he’s starting to think you might be able to read his thoughts. Too similar personalities skirting the borders of anger and dangling feet off the edge of sanity.

He can feel your eyes roaming, looking for a spot to dig in at and he snaps out of his deep thoughts. He crawls over you, leaving your bleeding wrist on the sheets, and hovers for a moment before dipping his head into the crook of your neck. It’s his favorite part of you, if he’s being honest and stupid. Even fresh out of a shower you still smell like you, that tang of metal and something earthy like you’ve been digging in the frozen dirt. He bites you once, a good chunk of flesh between his teeth before he lets go to move down your chest. He leaves a trail of pink tinted marks down your stomach as he makes his way between your thighs, strong fingers pushing and pulling your legs until he settles, one leg draped over his shoulders and the other one tucked up along his ribs. He keeps your hips pinned when he loops his arms around them. He lays a hand flat to help spread your lips, his tongue broad and flat when he licks a long line from your center to your clit.

You whimper, a sound he doesn’t think you’ve made around him before. He’s only ever tasted you off of his fingers and this first dip into you is rich and heady. He grunts into your parted flesh and your hands wind in his hair and pull him in closer. He takes his time because he can. In the quiet of your room he can barely make out the trucks slamming closed outside or the deep yell of Roy echoing off the trees. His phone vibrates from somewhere in the middle of the floor and it just drives him on more. Buries his nose deep in your cunt and digs his fingers into your soft thighs when you roll your hips against his face.

You make quiet sounds above him and pull on his hair and he doesn’t feel like coming up for air even when his nose starts to ache from being pressed into your skin. He won’t tell you any of this because that’d be against these silent rules you two have made up and enforced. Instead he focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit and when he uses his teeth for a moment you seize up, his name sighed out long to your ceiling.

He doesn’t give you time to refocus, just untangles himself from your legs to hitch them up on his hips before flipping you both. He rolls you on top of him, one hand flat on your lower back and the other guiding his cock through your folds. “Sit.”

No hesitation from you, just a shared groan when he stretches you and hits deep. It takes you a moment to to move again but the stuttered movement of your hips makes his eyes roll back.

“Does that feel good?”

“Fuck”

“Use your words, Gator. Does that feel good?”

He hears you fucking around with something but he can’t focus on much outside the wet heat of you. Not until he feels the cold press under his chin. “Answer me.”

His eyes snap open to find you staring down at him. You haven’t stopped moving, your tongue traces your lips and you grin. He should have known better than to leave his fucking gun within arms reach.

“Come on baby, tell me.” The tip of the gun digs into his chin and he’d be a liar for saying no. You don’t even have your finger on the trigger, laid flat along the body of it and he’s sure the safety is on. “Do you like this?”

“Yes.” That comes out a lot lighter than he meant.

“Just you and me.” Your eyes shine in the light filtering in, pupils blown wide while you ride him. You look crazy and you look tangled, your hair a wild halo around your head. He wants to look down and watch himself sink into you but you push his chin up roughly when he tries. With his head shoved back into the pillow, you lean on his chest and speed up and he’s violently reminded of the last time you did this, his newly healed wrist flinching away from you momentarily.

“Afraid I’m gonna break it again?”

“You’ve got a f-fuckin’ gun to mmm fuuuck-to my head, you tell me.” Saying it out loud makes his stomach clench, the fast pool of heat rushing when you grind down hard on him. The press against his chin falters for just a moment and he takes that second roll you over, back where he should have left you. Somewhere in the background noise his gun clatters on the hardwood and he pins you to the mattress. Drives into you fast and hard, his hand finding itself around your throat. The unhinged laugh you let out makes him feel crazy and the tether of his orgasm snaps taut.

Through the white noise he can hear you talking, can feel your hands sliding down his arm to hold his hand still against you while he fills you.

“Good boy.”

He shudders and shakes his head, releasing you when he hears your breathing get thin.

“Just me, yeah?”

He’s tired and in pain and he nods. Hazy thoughts swirl, brought on by your quiet praise and more than 24 hours of being awake.

“Stay here, okay?”

He feels heavy and tired and stupid. He keeps it to himself but the chaos of the outside is different from the chaos between you two and in that contained dissonance there’s a red drop of quiet. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he drifts all the same when you run a cool finger up and down his spine and he taste the remnants of that frozen earth still behind his teeth.

It’s dark when you wake up, Gator’s big frame heavy and languid, draped over your middle, head laying in the valley between your breast. Cuddled is the word you’d use but not out loud. He’s awake too, you can feel him blinking against your skin. His head shifting minutely when your fingers run along the edge of his scalp. Even in the dark of your bedroom you can see the bruises forming on his back under the red lines your blunt nails made. You won’t ask him about it but whatever Roy got him into today beat the shit out him. Gator takes a deep breath and you can feel his dog tags dig into your stomach, pressed between the two of you. “You getting up?”

“No.” He mumbles.

You’re hesitant to lay your hands on him in fear of him shrugging you off but when you let your palm slide down from his hair to the back of his neck he doesn’t move. When you walk your fingertips over his bicep he just tucks his hand under your shoulder. “Where’s my gun?”

“On the floor.” You roll your head to spot it next to your bed where you’d dropped it earlier.

“Is the safety on?”

“What are you, a cop?” You laugh and feel him huff out what could be a laugh. “Of course it’s on. I’m not stupid.”

“What time is it?” He isn’t moving at all, fully expecting you to have all these answers. You blindly feel around for your phone on your nightstand and wince when the light is too bright for the dark blanketing you two.

“It’s 8…PM. You got somewhere to be?” As if on cue you hear his phone vibrating from the pile of clothes on the floor. You wait to see if he’ll get up but he doesn’t react, just tells you no and rolls his head the opposite direction. When you drop your phone again he grabs your hand and plants it on the back of his head wordlessly.

The only window in here is level with your bed and you can stare out it directly to the massive garage out back. The flurries started up again sometime while you two were asleep and they whip by the glass, blurring the figures moving around outside. You can make out the lone figure standing tall by his truck, cowboy hat tilted up at the house and smudge of blue light by his head.

Fingers wound in Gator’s hair you laugh lightly, “Too bad, Butch Cassidy.” You whisper at the window. You can feel Gator’s jaw working like he wants to say something but he keeps quiet and stays put. Stays in your room. Stays in your bed. Stays between your chest and keeps his fingers twisted in your sheets.

Just you, he’d said. Just you.

#Gator Tillman x Reader #Gator Tillman Smut #Gator Tillman Fic #My Work #My Fic

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peachtozier · 11 days

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well, i wanted to post a fic in celebration of my birthday... sadly i didn't quite manage it. the struggles of being a habitual fic abandoner </3 but i still wanted to share some things ive been working on! so under the readmore are some snippets :)

as always, no promises these will be finished. i hope you like them anyway!! <3

from the aptly titled "virginphobic stanley":

“Nobody’s even touched your dick other than you, Trashmouth,” Stan says, a little dryly. “False,” Richie says. “The piercer had to touch my dick to stab it. What, are you only allowed to get a dick piercing after you’ve lost your virginity? Don’t be virgin-phobic, Stan.”

from an attempt at writing my field hockey au:

“Shut up,” Eddie says, and pulls Richie’s hair free of the hair tie. He slides his fingers into the mess, gently finger-combing the dark curls together. It’s gross- or it should be gross, Richie’s hair damp with sweat, but Eddie finds that he doesn’t hate it. Richie still smells like his shampoo, something coconutty and sweet. Maggie had obviously found his uniform this week, because he actually didn’t stink of stale sweat for once. “Where, uh, where do the straps sit?” Richie reaches a hand up, and traces where the straps of his face mask would sit, and Eddie pulls his handful of hair up a little more. With one more drag of his hand through the top of Richie’s head, just to try and collect any flyaways, he ties the ponytail, as tight as he could, in hopes it would stay tied this time. They stay there for a moment, Richie’s head tilted back, Eddie’s hand resting on his neck, before someone beside Eddie coughs. Eddie jumps back, eyes wide. He feels like he’s just been caught stealing. His heart is thumping loud in his ears, and he can feel his ears going hot. “Not to break… this up,” Stan says, snapping his mouthguard container shut. “But Bill wants to talk strategy.”

titled "richie gets sent back in time and gives himself a hug":

“Take a long hard look at yourself, Tozier. This is what you get stuck with. Look forward to it, kid.” “You’re not me,” Little Richie says, lip curled. He gestures to Richie with both hands, up and down. “I don’t look like that! You’re all- and you’re- and you don’t even have my nose!” “I’ll give you that one,” Richie says, barking out a laugh, reaching up to touch his own nose. “But it’s called a nose job, dude. Don’t look so shocked. I hate your nose. You hate your nose.” “I like your nose,” Little Eddie says. “Richie-” They both look at him. He frowns, emphasizing the lines beginning to grow on his face. “Okay, we gotta pick names.” “Dibs Richie,” Richie says. “I’m older.” “Fuck you,” Little Richie says.

#i need a personal tag #schnippet #my writing #idk. maybe this will force me into finishing at least one of these lol #reddie

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

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i can’t read any fics after i read yours, PLEASE for the love of god send me some fic recs

whaaaat? no nonnie there’s so many incredible ones out there that i couldn’t even compare to!!! please

the “yes” policy by @pinkrelish, old heart by @myosotisa, BELONG BY @abibliophobiaa (fake husband steve my beloved), TD&TC by @blueywrites (i still gotta catch up on this one </3), honey i’m home by @trashmouth-richie, the doctor!reader and firefighter!eddie lil imagine series by @dearest-readers !!, and also i know @luveline has been dropping/talking more about zombie au steve and then if it barks!!!! im missing so many probably but these are off the top of my head. also, you should catch up on @upsidedownwithsteve’s camp steve for that sequel coming out (especially if you’re a swiftie like me haha) AND camp eddie if you haven’t read that one as well!!! we love camp upside down in this household <3

i really need to make a weekly “what i’m reading”, don’t i?

#i’ll make that weekly thing eventually #ive talked about it a lot #thank u ily #i surely have missed so many #just check out my fic rec tag haha it’s the easiest #fic rec #<- it’s full of the best bedtime stories a gal could ask for

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yourlocaltheaterkid012 · 10 months

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Richie Tozier and Mike Wheeler Twin head cannons

(I’m mostly imagining season two Mike BTW )

Mike is definitely the older twin

Richie Loves Mike and isn’t afraid to say it. On the other hand Mike loves Richie too just doesn’t like saying it .

”I LOVE YOU MIKE!” “Get off of Me .”

They are both Bisexual.Richie is more open about it while Mike suffers from internalized homophobia.

Mike calls Richie Names like Dumbass, Idiot,Asshole etc. He’s the one who came up with Trashmouth.

“Ugh Rich you’re such a trashmouth “ “Hey I kinda like that…”

Mike is the only one who can insult his brother .If anyone else says something that actually hurts Richie’s feelings he’s on your ass .

“Faggot!” “Come again?”

Mike did attempt to fight the person but lost. Richie brought him to Eddie (Kasprack) To bandage him up. Richie was flattered by the fact Mike stood up for him .

Richie sometimes gets Jealous of all the awards and stuff Mike gets for AV club ,Science fairs and stuff . And tries his best not to let it show.

Mike gets jealous of how social and charismatic Richie is .

Stan has been friends with Richie for the longest Stan and Mike get along well .

Richie always knew that Mike and Will had a thing for each other. He also knows neither of them are comfortable with their Sexuality so he just kept to himself.But when Will got older and more comfortable about it Richie finally sat and talked to him about it since he relates.

“ So you and Mike huh?* eyebrow raise” “*Smirk* So you and Eddie huh?”

When they got to high school Richie got popular while Mike joined Hellfire.

“Hellfire?what the dick is that , Like a Cult?” “*Sigh*No Richie.”

Once Richie had to tell Mike something Nancy told him . And he walked into where hellfire meets.

“So this is a Cult!” “Richie?! What the hell are you doing here?!”

They love to Annoy Nancy . And tease her about Jonathan

[Richie]“ oh Johnathan ~”[Nancy] “Knock it off Richie !” [Mike] “ yeah leave her alone Rich she was just studying for her human anatomy test.” [Richie] “I didn’t know you moaned in Human Anatomy.“ [Nancy] “ WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP ALREADY?!”

#it 2017 #richie tozier #stranger things #that one really gay clown movie #mike wheeler #mike x will #bisexual headcanon #st headcanons #richard tozier #michael wheeler #headcanon

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reddie-fangirl24 · 8 months

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Mini Golf Championship

“I can’t believe you talked me into mini golf, Richie,” Eddie leaned against the window as they drove into L.A.’s most popular mini golf course, Sherman Oaks Castle Park. They drove at least an hour to get here. Now he believed Richie when he told him that this was the mini golf place to be. Families were lined up at each hole.

“What are you complaining about? You used to love mini golf!” Richie huffed as they parked.

“It’s just... mini golf? It’s kind of a kid thing,” Eddie said as they got out of the car.

“Listen, Mr. No-Fun, we gotta get you back into the fun risk-taking ‘I’m-jumping-off-a-cliff-even- though-my-mother-would-have-killed-me, I’m going to show you a good time today!” Richie planted a kiss right on his boyfriend’s lips. “And that doesn’t mean we’re doing it on the golf course!” He said in a hushed tone.

Eddie groaned and pushed him away. “You are really too much, you know that?”

Eddie and Richie strolled onto the mini golf course, playful bickering as they chose their clubs and balls. As they approached the first hole, Richie teased Eddie about his precise stance, while Eddie playfully mocked Richie's extravagant swings.

Eddie couldn't resist a playful jab at Richie, "You sure you're up for this, Trashmouth? I don't want you tripping over your own feet."

Richie smirked, pretending to be offended, "Please, Eds. I've got the grace of a swan. Just watch and learn."

By the third hole, Richie hit his ball with one good swing but Eddie decided to take up way too much time angling his ball and analyzing where to hit it. Whoever designed the course put too many rocks here.

"You know, Eds, it's just mini golf, not rocket science. You're studying the angles like you're about to build a skyscraper."

Eddie shot back with a smirk, "I like being prepared, unlike someone who can't even remember where they put their glasses half the time."

"Ouch, Eds, low blow," Richie feigned hurt, but his eyes twinkled with mischief.

As they navigated the colorful obstacles, their competitiveness shone through. This golf course was very different compared to others Eddie had been to (which wasn’t much in the past few years.) He tried to get Myra to play but she wouldn’t allow it. Aside from listening to music they really didn’t do much together.

Eddie smirked when he scored a hole-in-one, and Richie countered with an impressive trick shot. Amidst their banter, they cheered each other on, reveling in the fun of the challenge. As the sun set, they found themselves neck and neck, their competitive spirits driving them forward.

“Are you cheating?” Richie asked him as he tallied up the scores. Eddie was in the lead.

“I don’t know if I trust YOU with the scorecard, Rich. Didn’t it take you six tries on one hole?”

“You’re talking about yourself, Einstein. We don’t have the memory of an elephant I suppose?”

As they continued their game, Eddie's ball rolled precariously close to the edge, and Richie pretended to swoop in dramatically to save it. Eddie rolled his eyes, but the sparkle in Richie's gaze made his heart skip a beat.

As they played, Richie's ball veered off-course and nearly hit Eddie's foot. Eddie jumped back, raising an eyebrow, "Watch where you're swinging that thing, Richie. You're gonna injure someone!"

Richie put on a dramatic show of remorse, "Oh no, my love, I would never hurt you. I shall use my club with the utmost care from now on." He presented his club in the air like a sword. The people behind them had no idea how to respond to their shenanigans. The mother of the two kids told them not to pay any attention to them.

The banter continued as they moved through the course, taking turns cheering each other on. At one particularly challenging hole, Eddie's ball bounced off the obstacles in an unexpected way, missing the hole narrowly. Richie couldn't resist teasing, "Looks like you need a math degree to calculate that shot, Eds."

Eddie pouted, "Shut up, Richie. It's not that easy."

"Don't worry, Eds. I'll show you how it's done," Richie boasted, taking his turn. But his shot ended up even further from the hole.

Eddie chuckled, "Oh, real smooth, Trashmouth. Real smooth."

As the sun began to set, they found themselves tied yet again. Richie grinned mischievously, "Looks like fate wants us to remain equals, Eddie."

Eddie smirked back, "Or maybe it's just destiny's way of telling us we're both terrible at mini golf."

Richie laughed, "Maybe it's a bit of both, but at least we're having fun, right?"

Eddie's expression softened, staring into his handsome boyfriend’s eyes. They’d been together for five months now. Just a month ago he got his stitches removed and he was healing properly. He never thought he could be so happy being with Richie Tozier. If only that didn’t lose all that time to that damned clown’s curse. "Yeah, we are. This is nice, Richie."

Richie's eyes softened too, "Yeah, it is. You’re a real trooper, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that or so help me I will whack you upside the head!”

“That’s an example for the little kiddies.”

Their hands brushed again, this time intentionally, and they exchanged a small kiss.

As they reached the final hole, they were tied yet again. Eddie eyed Richie, "You better not cheat to win this time."

Richie feigned innocence, "Me? Cheat? Never!"

As they took their shots, to their surprise, both balls landed inches from the hole. They burst into laughter, realizing they were perfectly matched.

In the end, they decided to call it a draw and celebrated their friendly competition. Richie suggested grabbing ice cream, and Eddie agreed, knowing it would give them more time together.

"You know, Trashmouth, I might actually enjoy spending time with you."

Richie turned up his brow. "You haven’t already?”

“You know I have. It’s just hidden in my deep annoyance and hatred for you,” he laughed, making Richie giggle with him.

“Thanks, Eds, I’ve always wanted to come here.”

“Wait, you’ve never been here?” Eddie asked, surprised.

“I’ve never had anyone to play with. You were the best... even if you used math and science to figure out how to put balls in holes.”

Laughing at the innuendo, they shared a meaningful look, and in that moment, they both knew that this mini golfing adventure was just the beginning of something truly special between them. They couldn’t wait to come back and challenge each other to another round.

#Reddie #It Chapter 2 #Reddie fanfiction #Richie Tozier #Eddie Kaspbrak

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Ghostin' (Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader): Chapter 5

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: After confronting Gareth, Steve is overwhelmed with his own insecurities. But with Vecna gaining strength, his decision to leave could prove to be fatal.

Warnings: language, S4 is canon, pregnancy, light smut (18+ only)

WC: 5.3k

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

True to his word, Gareth shows up at Family Video the next day. He’s decidedly less confident than he was at Enzo’s, perhaps because of the shame he feels from hurting your feelings. He enters the store, clearing his throat softly and getting both Steve and Robin’s attention.

“Can we help you?” Robin starts, looking up from the latest issue of Rolling Stone. She’s used to handling the customers, since Steve typically only pays attention to the pretty women. It takes her by surprise when he steps forward with a small, “I’ve got this,” but she doesn’t question it. Not when there’s an interview with Paul McCartney calling her name.

Steve motions for Gareth to join him in the back room, closing the door behind him. “You wanna tell me what the hell that was about yesterday?” Steve asks, placing his hands on his hips. “Treating Y/N like that? Like she’s some kind of slut?”

Gareth shakes his head. “I know, I know,” he says sullenly. “I shouldn’t have…I was just shocked. Seeing her pregnant, seeing her with you…” He looks up at Steve, eyes brimming with tears. “Eddie was like my brother. He was my role model, my best friend. And when he started dating Y/N, she became like my sister-in-law. I even used to call her that.” He chuckles lightly at the memory. “And seeing you and her together, it makes it…real. That he’s really gone, y’know?”

“I know,” Steve lets his arms fall to his sides, heart breaking for the kid in front of him. “If I could bring him back, I would.” It’s the truth. Even if it meant watching the woman he loves be happy with someone else, he’d bring Eddie back in a second. “But I promise you, man; I’m not just messing around with her. This is a serious thing, and I’m gonna do whatever I can to take care of her and the baby.”

Gareth pauses for a moment before saying, “He would’ve been a great dad.”

“The best.” Steve agrees with a nod. He can picture Eddie holding Little Bean, letting them grasp onto his finger or tug on his long curly hair without complaint. Something he’ll never get to do now.

Both of them are quiet for a beat, soaking in an awkward silence. Finally, Gareth says, “You said something yesterday.”

“Hm?” Steve cocks his head, still thinking about Eddie and Little Bean.

“Yesterday,” Gareth repeats, “you said ‘I don’t get off on humiliating people.’ But that’s a lie.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve’s suddenly defensive again, crossing his arms over his broad chest and furrowing his brows. “I don’t humiliate people.”

“You humiliated me.” Gareth’s voice sounds like he has sandpaper in his throat. When Steve’s expression remains confused, the younger boy continues. “My first day of freshman year. I was lost and I asked you for directions, and you said, ‘What, you want door to door service?’ Then you and your buddy picked me up and tossed me in the nearest trash can.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry, not because he remembers. The exact opposite, actually. He has no recollection of throwing Gareth into the garbage. And not because it didn’t happen—it sounds exactly like something the old Steve would’ve done. It’s because he and Tommy spent so much time hurting other people that each event blurs with the other.

“So, yeah,” Gareth presses on. “I feel awful that I was mean to Y/N. She didn’t deserve that. But you, King Steve?” He scoffs, “you don’t deserve her.”

“Shit,” Steve mumbles, running his fingers through his hair. “I-I’m so sorry.” He swallows thickly, carefully considering his next words. “Look, you don’t have to believe me, or forgive me, because I was a total asshole. A world-class piece of shit. But I promise you, I’m not that guy any more.” He looks around the stockroom. “King Steve is more like the court jester now. Working a minimum wage job, getting rejected from the goddamn community college…” Not to mention being plunged into an alternate dimension and nearly being choked to death by demobats. “The point is, I got knocked down a few rungs, and I realized that I wasn’t a good person. Not even close. And every damn day, I make sure I’m becoming the man I want to be. For me, for Y/N, and for Little Bean.”

Gareth’s expression softens, his posture relaxes just a touch. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Little Bean?”

“Yeah,” Steve grins bashfully, “it’s what she’s been calling the baby.” He thinks about Gareth’s earlier admission, about Eddie being a brother to him. “Y’know, just because Eddie’s, um, not here, doesn’t mean…I mean, you’re still gonna be Little Bean’s uncle. If you want,” he hastily adds.

Gareth laughs. “I think Uncle Gareth has a nice ring to it.” He forces himself to meet Steve’s gaze, expression once again serious. “I still don’t really trust you.”

“I know.”

“But if she’s happy…” Gareth blows out a puff of air, shrugging his shoulders, “then I guess we’re okay.”

Okay. It doesn’t mean everything is fixed, but Steve is starting to become more comfortable with the uncertainties of life, when things aren’t wrapped up with a perfect little bow. “Thanks.” There’s nothing else to say, so he just opens the door and watches Gareth walk out the door, waving goodbye to Robin as he exits.

“Hey, Dingus,” Robin calls back, not bothering to look up from the magazine, “you good?”

“Yep.” No, he wants to say. I knew I wasn’t good enough for Y/N, but I thought it was all in my head. Now I have confirmation that it’s true.

“Great,” his friend replies. “There’s a stack of returns here with your name on ‘em.”

When Steve comes home that evening, he finds you in the kitchen, stirring a pot of pasta. “I know I said I’d make burgers tonight, but Little Bean had other ideas.” you tell him apologetically, placing a hand on your bump.

Steve musters up a laugh, kissing your cheek and bending down to kiss your stomach. “Little Bean, is she blaming you again?”

You swat at Steve and scowl. “I’ll eat all this myself and make you eat cereal for dinner, I swear.” The timer goes off, and you drain the pasta in the sink.

“Not really hungry anyway,” he says softly, shrugging off his work vest and plopping onto the couch. When you look at him quizzically, he explains. “I spoke to Gareth today.”

Your face falls, reminded of the heated exchange at Enzo’s. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Steve fills you in on Gareth’s apology, omitting what he said about Steve not deserving you. He knows you’ll deny it and rush to reassure him, even if you agree with your friend. “He just misses Eddie—not that it’s an excuse to say what he said.” He sighs, watching you ladle marinara sauce onto the penne. “If I ask you something, do you promise to be honest with me?”

You bring your attention to the dejected man on the sofa. “Of course.”

“Was I…did I ever make fun of you in high school?” He stumbles over his words, embarrassed that he even has to ask this question. “Because apparently Tommy and I tossed Gareth into a garbage can, and I didn’t even remember.”

“I don’t think so,” you purse your lips as you try to reflect on your Hawkins High days. “It was more of Tommy being a dick and you not doing anything to stop him.”

“Shit, really?” Steve buries his head in his hands. “What did we do?”

You bite your lip uneasily. “Tommy used to always call me and Eddie ‘Freak and Lady Freak,’ and you would just laugh and high-five him. But you never, like, called us that yourself.”

“Still wasn’t right,” he mutters. “I’m so, so sorry. I never should’ve done that. I should’ve told him to shut the fuck up and leave you alone.” He gnaws on a fingernail anxiously. “Christ, I was such an awful person.” A tear slides down his cheek, and you instinctively put down your dinner preparation to comfort him, stopping only when he puts his hands up. “No, see, this is what I didn’t want to happen!” He raises his voice, taking you aback.

“What are you talking about?” Frustration boils up in your chest, and you try to force it back down and keep a calm tone. “You’re not making any sense!” He says nothing, not even bothering to make eye contact. “Steve, you’re not in high school anymore. You’re not the same person you were back then.”

Steve scoffs, pressing his palms to his knees and standing up. “Forget it, okay? Just forget I said anything.” He grabs his car keys from where he’d tossed them on the counter. “I’m going for a drive. Gotta clear my head. Don’t wait up.”

If you weren’t six months pregnant, you probably would have been able to get to the door in time to stop him, but your slight waddle doesn’t allow for sprinting. Instead, you watch pathetically from the sofa as he lets the door slam behind him, listening to the sounds of his angry footsteps until they fade to silence. The bowls of pasta sit untouched on the counter, and as nauseated as you feel from the argument, you know that Little Bean needs nutrients. You cover Steve’s in plastic wrap, placing it in the refrigerator, before digging into your dinner. There has to be more to the story, you just know it, but you can’t do anything else with Steve gone.

You feel a surge of anger pulse through your body, making you push your food away. Steve’s supposed to be here, with you, and he walked out. Just left you alone without a clue where he was disappearing to. For months, he had no obligation to stay, and he did. He’d barely left your side until you practically dropped off the face of the Earth after discovering your pregnancy. And now that he’d taken you on a date, kissed you, confessed his love for you…now he decides to bolt?

Tears brim in your eyes as you take in how suddenly alone you are. You’d thought you’d have a nice, relaxing dinner together–maybe discuss the status of your relationship, since it clearly was not following a typical timeline. But that dream has been dashed in an instant. Picking up the phone, you sniffle and try to stifle your crying.

“Hey, Robin, it’s me,” you say, attempting to hide your irrational annoyance at getting her answering machine. “Um, Steve left here and he was pretty angry. If he stops by your place, just let me know. Please.” You clear your throat. “Okay, thanks. Bye.”

Exhaustion overtakes you–a feeling you’ve become all-too acquainted with during your pregnancy. It’s hard to believe that you used to start your evenings at 10 PM, and now you’re ready to go to bed at 7:30.

You’re too tired to even put on pajamas, so you slip into bed in your jeans and t-shirt. The last thing you think of before falling asleep is how you and Little Bean will manage on by yourselves.

At first, Steve doesn’t have a destination in mind; he plans on driving around until he clears his head. But his subconscious has other ideas, and he finds himself pulling up in front of the Munson trailer. It’s dark, with Eddie’s Uncle Wayne probably at work. Steve kills the engine and watches Forest Hills Trailer Park dissolve into darkness as his headlights fade out.

“Fuck!” he yells out, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. “Fuck it all!” He glances around the trailer park, dimly lit with flickering streetlights. A dog barks; a woman who sounds like she’s smoked two packs a day for the last fifty years screams at it to shut up. Steve steps out of the car and leans up against it for a minute before realizing that he’s been staring at the trailer door, as if expecting Eddie to come barreling out. Probably saying something ridiculous like, “Take a picture, Harrington; it’ll last longer.” And Dustin would cackle like it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Steve can’t help but crack a smile at the thought, but there’s a pang in his heart when he remembers that it can’t happen.

He’s pulled from his thoughts and his pulse quickens when he hears some rustling coming from the bushes, gripping the car door handle in case he needs to make a getaway. He relaxes when he sees it’s only Wayne, too relieved to consider the fact that the man’s truck is nowhere in sight.

“Mr. Munson!” Steve calls out. “It’s me; Steve Harrington. One of Eddie’s, um, friends.” Friends. Because after a week enduring the worst trauma of their lives, that’s what they were.

“I know who you are, boy,” Wayne growls, crossing his arms as he approaches Steve. “You’re the punk who’s trying to take Eddie’s place, hm? Moving in on his girl, acting like the father of his kid. What are you doing here? Gonna sleep in his goddamn bed, too?”

“N-No, sir,” Steve stutters, hands clammy. “I was just going for a drive–” But he pauses when he sees the blood seeping from Wayne’s eyes; no, not Wayne’s eyes–Vecna’s. “I’m not even asleep,” he muses.

Vecna’s horrible laugh crackles through the air. “No, Steve. You’re not. I’m healing, getting stronger every day. And I might not be able to hurt you yet, but I will.” Vines take their shape down his limbs, snaking around like they’re choking him. “You may think that your inevitable death will be the end, but for me, it is only the beginning.”

Steve can only blink, feeling his legs trembling as he sinks down onto the muddy grass.

“You see,” Vecna continues. The ground shakes with each step he takes. “I need to keep feasting on the town of Hawkins until I have regained all of my powers. It starts with you,” he points a gnarled finger towards Steve, “and I bet even dumb old King Steve can figure out who will be next.”

“Not Y/N,” Steve manages, summoning all of the courage he can. “She’ll fight you. She’ll fight you with everything she has, because she has Little Bean.”

Vecna lets out a low rumble. “She is strong, yes, because she knows she has worth to someone–her baby. This is why I need to start with someone weaker. Someone like you, who knows he only causes harm to the people he loves.”

“Th-That’s not true. I’ve changed. I’m not that kinda guy anymore,” he echoes your words from earlier, hoping that both he and the monster will believe them.

“Oh, but have you?” Another soul-sucking laugh. “Tell me, Steve. When Dustin asked you to substitute for Lucas at Hellfire, what was your response?” A pause of utter silence precedes his next statement. “Just like with Gareth, right? You don’t remember? Allow me to fill in the gaps.” A memory floods Steve’s senses. He’s suddenly back behind the counter at Family Video, phone cradled between his shoulder and his ear.

“Just move your date this one time!” Dustin’s voice bleats through the receiver. “Come on!”

“What, to hang out with you and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson? Uh, yeah…I’ll pass,” he hears himself say, cringing at his condescending tone.

The visual abruptly ends, and he’s thrust back into the trailer park. “You see?” Vecna sneers. “Not only did you ignore a friend in need to go on a meaningless date, but you insulted his friend while you did it.

“So, Steve,” the monster is right in front of him now, and he feels his hot breath on his face, “have you really changed? Or is that a lie you tell yourself so you can pretend to deserve her?”

There’s that word again: deserve. Deep down, Steve knows he doesn’t deserve you. That you’re only his—if you are still his after the way he left you—because Eddie is dead.

“You can spare yourself the pain and come with me, Steve,” Vecna grumbles, holding out his hand. “We all know she’s better off without you. Everyone is.”

Steve swallows thickly, absorbing the information. A part of him is tempted to give up and give in. But then he imagines your face when you find out that he’s gone, too. Left on the trailer park grounds, nothing more than a heap of broken bones. He pictures your beautiful, perfect smile that feels like it heals him from the inside out. If he stays in the Upside Down forever, he’ll never get to see it again.

Worse, he’ll be the reason why you’re crying.

“No!” Steve shouts, a bit hoarsely at first. “No, I won’t go with you!” He scrambles to his feet, pushing through his nerves. “Let me go! I said, LET ME GO!”

Vecna tilts his head to the left, raising his arm. Steve feels vines slowly snake around his feet, gluing him to the browning grass. “I offered you the easy way,” he snarls, “and you opted not to take it. You are even more foolish than you appear.”

“Get…these…off,” Steve weakly protests as another set of vines pins him to a nearby tree. They wrap around his throat, restricting his air supply. “I’m not leaving her…not…leaving…Little Bean…”

“You have no choice in this matter.” A low hiss escapes him as he winces, still not used to his weakened powers. “Besides, you already left, didn’t you? Ran away like the coward you are. You should stay far, far away from her.”

Dizziness from the lack of oxygen creeps into Steve’s head. He’s nearly unconscious when he sees a bright space open up behind Vecna’s body.

“Steve!” Dustin calls. “Steve, are you there?” A brief pause. “Where’s the tape? We need the goddamn tape!!!”

“I have it!” Max. Her vision is still compromised, but she’s never stopped fighting. There’s an exchange, and the click of a Walkman closing. All at once, the intro to Black Dog reverberates through the air.

“Run, Steve, run!!!” Dustin cries out, and Lucas and Max echo his plea. “Run for your life!”

“We love you, Steve! We love you, and Y/N loves you, and you need to live!” Lucas’s voice cracks as he begs him to fight back.

Max pipes up, steady and direct in her instructions. “Listen to the music, Steve,” she tells him. “It’ll give you the strength to survive.”

The glowing space starts to shrink, and Steve instinctively starts to panic. He reminds himself to do as Max said, breathing in the lyrics as he struggles against the tightening vines.

All I ask for when I pray

A steady rollin' woman won't come my way

Need a woman gonna hold my hand

Tell me no lies, make me a happy man

He remembers the joy both you and he felt listening to the song, secrets and tension melting away with each note. A new start for you, for Steve, and for you and Steve. He remembers coming with you to your ultrasound appointments, watching in awe at the tiny being growing inside of you. He remembers the way you kissed him, like your lips were meant to mold into his.

The vines begin to loosen, perhaps from Vecna’s more fragile state, but mostly due to Steve’s sheer will to live. His feet touch the ground again, and as soon as he feels the shock on his heels, he’s running faster than he’s ever run in his life. All he can think about is you and Little Bean.

Vecna howls in frustration as Steve narrowly escapes his clutches. Steve can only register pain as he slams back down to the earth, panting and shivering. Dustin throws his arms around him, and Lucas grabs Max’s hand and brings her towards their oft-unwilling babysitter. The three of them hold him well after his shaking subsides.

“H-How did you…” Steve starts, but he’s unable to finish his sentence before bursting into a fresh round of tears.

“We were at Max’s,” Lucas explains, rubbing Steve’s back and lowering the headphones from his ears. “Dustin thought he saw something weird, and when we looked out the window, we saw you…levitating. Like Max did at Billy’s grave.”

Steve nods slowly. “But…but…the song…” It’s still playing, and Dustin leans over to click the pause button. The quiet seeps through eerily, but it allows Steve to formulate a coherent thought.

“It was Billy’s Zeppelin tape,” Max says softly. “I kept some of his stuff, and when Dustin told us that Black Dog was your safety song, I made sure to always have it nearby. Just in case.” Steve musters up all of his energy to ruffle her hair, heart soaring when she giggles. It feels good to make someone happy.

Steve looks at the kids, eyes wet and vision blurred. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I owe you guys my life.”

Lucas shakes his head. “Nah, man. You know how many times you’ve saved our asses? Let’s just call it even.”

“You’re a good one, Sinclair,” Steve says with a smile. He turns to Max. “Quit being so hard on him, all right?”

“We’ll see,” Max replies, but she giggles again as she says it.

Steve sits up suddenly, bracing himself and gritting his teeth as the world spins for a moment. “I gotta get home,” he blurts out. “I gotta get back to Y/N. I just left her alone, didn’t tell her what I was doing or where I was going…”

“You sure you’re okay to drive, big guy?” Dustin asks, furrowing his brows with concern. “I can always call my mom and ask her to take you.”

“Or I can drive!” Max pipes up, and everyone reacts with a resounding “no!”

“Jesus, you were bad enough when you could see,” Dustin mutters.

Steve wipes his hands on his pants, grimacing as the dirt smears on clean denim. “I’ll be fine,” he reassures them. He begins to take the headphones off from around his neck, then stops. “Can I, uh, borrow this?” he asks Max. “I’ll return it tomorrow. Just wanna make sure…for the drive home, y’know?” He knows how important it is for her to have this piece of Billy.

She nods, reaching out for Steve’s hand. He takes it, squeezing gingerly. “Of course.”

Steve can’t get back to the apartment fast enough. He nearly snaps the key trying to unlock the door, and he flings it open so quickly that it slams against the wall. It’s loud enough to get your attention, but he doesn’t hear any reaction from you.

“Y/N?” he calls out tentatively, blood running cold when there’s no response. “Y/N!” He’s shouting now, yelling your name over and over.

He’s got her, he thinks. He sensed a moment of weakness and went after her, and I wasn’t here to save her. He dashes into the bedroom, a last resort before descending into complete panic, and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees you in bed, rubbing the sleep from your beautiful eyes.

“Steve? What the hell is going–oomph!” You’re interrupted by his lips crashing onto yours, hands cradling your cheeks. You can taste the salt from his tears as he sobs into you; he thought he’d cried himself dry, but seeing you safe and sound brought on a new batch. When you part, you can see the worry creasing his face. “Where were you?”

“He’s coming after you next,” Steve ignores your question, unable to hold back what he knows. “After me, he’s coming after you. And then the rest of Hawkins until he’s strong enough to conquer the world.”

“You saw him.” It’s a statement; you’re not asking. “And you didn’t have your music.”

Steve relays that evening’s events, stumbling over his words as he admits, “He said he’s starting with me because I’m…because I’m weaker.”

You look at him, puzzled. How could he be weaker than a hormonal pregnant woman with a dead baby daddy? “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the only reason we can even be together is because Eddie’s…he’s…I never would have tried to get with you if he was here,” Steve stammers. “And it doesn’t seem fair, y’know? He…he dies, and I get his girl?” He stands up and paces the length of your bedroom. “I’m disgusting, and I don’t deserve you. Everyone thinks so.”

Your heart plummets at his vulnerability. “Who said that?” you ask, voice hardly more than a whisper.

“Gareth and…and him.” Steve can’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He doesn’t need to clarify who him is.

“Do you think I should be happy?”

Steve’s thrown off by your question. “What? Of course.”

“Do you think Eddie would want me to be sad forever? To never have another partner again?” you continue.

“No. He…he wouldn’t want that.”

You motion for Steve to sit back down on the bed, and you take both of his hands in yours. “You, Steve Harrington, make me happy. When I thought life wasn’t worth living, you showed me that it was. When I pushed away, you pulled me back. And, yeah, this,” you point between the two of you, “wouldn’t be happening if Eddie survived. But, Steve? Torturing ourselves isn’t going to bring him back. It isn’t going to make us miss him any less. The best we can do is keep living. For him, for us, and for Little Bean.”

Steve lets go of one of your hands to feel your belly. “Not fair,” he teases gently. “You know I’ll do anything for Little Bean.”

You lean in and kiss him, bringing your lips to his ear to murmur, “Will you let me show you how much you mean to me?”

His eyes widen. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.” But a slight twitch behind his fly gives away his true feelings.

“I want to,” you coo, nibbling on his earlobe and sliding your palm under his shirt and up to his hairy chest. “As long as you do.”

Reflexively, Steve nods, but his gaze quickly goes back to your bump. “We won’t hurt Little Bean, right?”

You giggle. “Not at all. I promise.” Lifting your shirt above your head and tossing it to the floor, you straddle Steve’s thighs. His hands roam the expanse of your torso, and he wastes no time unhooking your bra. Your body waits for the feeling of lips latching onto your breasts, the way Eddie would’ve done, but Steve runs his fingers over the peaks, pinching them slightly. You moan out with pleasure in what will be the first of many reminders that different doesn’t inherently mean bad.

Steve’s shirt is the next to go, and he sheds his jeans immediately after, grateful for the relief. As you palm him over his briefs, you’re hit with a strange pang of sadness; it’s a stupid comparison to make, but Eddie always wore boxers. He’d buy the most ridiculous ones he could find; only you two knew that under that metal façade lurked a pair of Bugs Bunny shorts. But this is Steve—Steve who wears briefs instead of boxers, whose hands are smooth instead of calloused, who smells like Drakkar Noir and hairspray instead of drugstore cologne and Newports.

Different, but good. So, so good.

He’s patient as you step down to wriggle out of your maternity jeans, but his eyes never leave your body. He drinks you in, pupils blown wide, and pulls you back onto his lap with a soft, “all mine.” The plush of his lips presses against your neck, and you thread your fingers through his hair, whimpering at his touch.

“I can’t wait until you can see me not pregnant,” you bite your lower lip, hyper aware of the way your bare bump nudges against his flat stomach. Being naked in front of someone for the first time was scary enough, let alone being nearly seven months along.

“No,” he says simply, continuing to kiss down to your collarbone while placing a large palm atop your belly. “I love the way you look. So beautiful…I don’t know what to do with myself.” He pulls away for a second to look you in the eyes; his are shiny and wide. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Steve.” The phrase followed by his name instead of Eddie’s is a new sensation, but it rolls off of your tongue easily. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” You punctuate each repetition with a kiss to his eager lips. You don’t even realize you’re crying until he wipes a tear from your cheek.

“What’s wrong? Is it–am I–”

You shake your head. “Please don’t get mad at me.” Taking a deep breath, you start to confess. “I’m scared, Steve. I’m scared that you’re only here because you feel like you have to be, or that this is just some kind of trauma bond, and as soon as Vecna’s gone, you’ll figure out that you don’t really have feelings for me.” You cradle your belly in your hands. “And I’m worried that when you see how hard it is to raise a kid, never mind someone else’s kid, you’ll…”

“Hey, hey. C’mere,” he says, readjusting you so you’re sitting across his thighs. He rubs your back gently. “Did I ever tell you about my big, crazy dream of my future?”

“Six kids and a Winnebago?”

“Yeah,” he laughs lightly, “that’s the one. I’ve been thinking about it more lately. That’s what I thought that’s what family was: Mom, Dad, shit-ton of kids going on vacation together. And maybe it is sometimes, I dunno,” he shrugs. “But I realized that one of the reasons why I love you so much is because you gave me what I always wanted.” He stares into your eyes lovingly. “You and Little Bean–you’re my family.”

You scrunch up your face in confusion. “You love me because I’m having a baby?”

“No—shit—I mean, I do love that you’re having a baby, but that’s not why I love you. Let me start over.” He tosses his hair from his eyes. “I love you because no matter what’s going on in this dimension or any other, I feel safe with you. I love you because you’re patient, and kind, and thoughtful. I love you because you jumped into this crazy monster-fighting world without hesitating, just to protect the people you care about.” He pauses, taking your hands in his. “I love you because you’re you, Y/N. And when I’m with you, I can just be me.”

“Well, that’s good,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder. “Because I love you just as you are. Just please don’t ever leave like you did tonight again.”

“I promise, baby. Never, ever again.” Steve looks down at you, taking you all in with his golden brown eyes. “And, Y/N? I…I miss him, too.” His last sentence lingers in the air; you’re not quite sure how to respond. “I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. Isn’t that dumb? I knew him for a week and I miss him like I knew him my whole life.”

“‘S not dumb at all.” You lace your fingers with his and kiss his bare shoulder. “Like I said, the stuff we went through together bonds us forever, y’know?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, averting his gaze from yours. “Do you think I could just hold you tonight? It’s not that I don’t wanna do…this…but I want to make it special.”

“Of course, Stevie.” While you’re disappointed, you’re a little relieved. The last time you did this, you and Eddie created Little Bean. And then Eddie was gone forever.

You curl up into Steve’s arms, feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

But not before you hear the chimes.

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