i wonât stop loving on this. never ever ever ever
THE JAWLINE IS SENDING ME TO SPACE
Okay but some have you have never run your hands over hair this short and it shows - you know how nice that feels under your fingers right? Itâs soothing đ
Congrats on the nice shaped head, Joe!
Câmon people, stop acting so weird over a haircut, itâs really weird lol. Itâs only hair, it grows back đ¤Śđťââď¸
leighanne you dirty dog, this was absolutely perfect in every way.
this part was actually sad as hell, but the imagery was stunning.
cocky mf . i feel like a cat in heat rn
HAD TO READ THIS MORE THAN ONCE TO COMPREHEND WHICH GIRL HE WAS TALKING ABOUT
đ¤¤, fuck off i need this man
THIS PART. wowwowowowowo. we love a mid fuck confession
I guess itâs never really over
mechanic!steve x fem!reader exes to lovers
Chapter Four -
Honey, on your knees when you look at me
The consequences of your actions hang heavy around you neck when you wake up, so you go to the shop to tell Steve this is definitely not what he thinks it is.
warnings: 18+ slight angst, confused feelings, semi public smut, fingering (fem!receiving), oral (fem receiving), body worship, praise kink, unprotected p in v smut, cream pie, fluff.
wc: 10k
authors note: This chapter has been almost two months in the making between life and writers block, I didnât think I would be here. Thank you to everyone who sent me messages about this story and about him because of you, I never gave up writing this series I was so excited about. betaâd by: @superblysubpar
series masterlist | series playlist
songs from the playlist that inspired this chapter: Unravel Me, If You Think Iâm Pretty, Please Donât Fall In Love With Me, Make Up, Eastside, Holy.
Streams of shining golden yellow make your lids still heavy with sleep flutter, lashes tickling the tops of your puffy cheeks as you surrender to the sunâs wishes to wake you up. The orange shag carpet in Robinâs living room slowly comes into focus, along with the rest of your surroundings as the ends of your palms rub the rest of the night from your eyes. Stretching your legs, theyâre met with warmth like the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds still lingering on the cushions next to you.Â
¨Shit.¨Â
Your muscles freeze, threatening to cramp in your calf as the night floods back into your memories. How his plush pink lips slotted between yours like they should never be anywhere else, or how they made your back arch, kissing a messy path down your neck, perfect teeth nipping, threatening to bruise your delicate skin that lights up under his touch.Â
A shaky breath pushes out of your lungs as you shimmy your body deeper into the couch, fingers finding their way to your chest where you swear you can still feel his smile pressed into your skin, the tips of them hitting something smooth and warm.Â
A metal chain.
The weight of it around your neck finally registers through the sleepy fog that lifts from your brain. Looking down the slope of your nose, you nearly go cross-eyed when youâre met with the rich yellow gold that matches the sun, especially because It looks just like the one that belongs to Steve Harrington.Â
âNo, no, no, no.â
The realization that it is in fact, Steve Harringtonâs kicks in just like your feet in a silent fit, the thin throw he mustâve put on top of you before he left falling to the ground. You remember his plea for a date, and it has panic curling deep in your gut, the consequences of your actions arriving first thing in the morning before youâve even had any coffee.Â
Thereâs a little bit of pride that hides in a small space in your chest that you didnât just fold and say yes. Something you would have done in high school when he was giving you much less. Still, you didnât say no. You were just prolonging the inevitable matter of letting him down right? Itâs the self-respecting thing, itâs what you told yourself youâd always do.Â
Say no.
You twist the metal between your fingers, your eyes finding the dust particles that seem to float between the plastic of Robinâs blinds. Thereâs an ache in your heart at the fresh reminder of what it feels like to be held in his arms, something he rarely did when you were dating, at least not if it wasnât the dead of night. The sleepovers at his big empty house were your favorite until you realized how sad it was. All his whispered secrets and deep confessions that he only shared when you were lit by the moonlight - the kind that hid all the stars in the sky and that boy he was trying to hide. The ones that kept you hanging onto hope until the last bit of rope tethering you to him, cut your skin. Those were the nights that really made you have to run.Â
Youâre not sure if you could survive it again, and the end of August is only a distant friend. Pushing yourself off the couch, your eyes catch the bright bold numbers on the microwave that read 9:45 AM and you try to remember all the reasons you left in the first place. Not the way he looked at you last night in the kitchen making your best friendâs favorite snack.Â
Your flip-flops clack loudly against the hot pavement, the determination in your walk up to the shop threatening to set the street ablaze. The spaghetti strap sundress you threw on in a rush trying to be careful not to wake up Robin does very little to help cool you or your mood down when youâre met with the mugginess of the Midwest.Â
Steveâs chain bounces against your chest with each step, the gold shimmering against the sunlight in a pretty reminder that you still havenât taken it off yet. One that you choose to ignore in your huff trying to think of all the mean things he's done and not the way he begged you to make it right.
Reaching the end of the block, you notice Eddieâs van is missing from the parking lot, leaving only Steveâs BMW against the side of the shop. It stops you dead in your tracks because the buffer that would stop you from making the same mistake isnât there. Your proven lack of self-control only a few weeks into the summer has your confidence waver with nerves that try and get the best of you, but with a deep breath, you force your feet to keep moving.
Steveâs side of the garage is the only one open, the faded green metal door at half-mast to keep some of the sun away. Michael Jacksonâs The Way You Make Me Feel bleeds out of the open space, bouncing and echoing off the cars inside, waking up the butterflies and sending them soaring. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you try not to imagine the way heâs probably singing along, or that curl that wonât stay in place, falling over his forehead as he bobs his head to the beat.
Why is Eddie not here?Â
You see his black work boots first, then the legs that were intertwined with yours just a few hours ago, now adorned by blue coveralls. Walking across the grease-stained cement, he comes to an abrupt stop, and for a second you think maybe he sees you, heart thumping wildly in your chest until he shuffles back a few steps before continuing forward.Â
He was dancing and you hate the way the corners of your mouth twitch because of it.
The smell of oil is bittersweet hitting your nose as you stop in front of the opening, silently working up the courage to duck under the door. Steve doesnât notice your sneaky entrance from where he stands at his workbench with his back facing you, completely lost in whateverâs on the paper heâs holding in black-stained hands. It gives you the few minutes you need to get your thoughts together as he bops his head to the music thatâs loud enough to hide you a little bit longer.Â
Your gaze lands on Eddieâs empty office, successfully diminishing the last bit of hope you clung onto that maybe he just didnât drive today, before your eyes catch the burnt orange of your car tucked away in the corner. A cherry red Corvette sits parked in front of it, making your face sour at the instant comparison. It outshines the car you scraped up enough money to get after moving to the city, sparking the kind of anger youâd been scrambling to cling onto walking up here. Maybe if your car hadnât broken down, you wouldnât have kissed Steve Harrington, and then maybe you wouldnât be standing here secretly wanting to do it again.Â
Clinging to that notion with everything you have, you take a deep breath, straightening your posture before clearing your throat, letting him know he wasnât by himself anymore.
âThe musicâs a little loud donât you think?âÂ
The pleased grin that spreads wide across your face canât be stopped when the sound of your voice makes him jump with a âJesus Christâ so loud you can hear it over the music, crumbling the paper in his hands.
Point one - you.
Your victory is short-lived the moment Steve turns around with his ever changing brown eyes that are somehow warmer in the daylight, reflecting the flecks of green that shine and light up even more at the realization that itâs you and not some random intruder. He runs those long fingers through his hair, trying to tame the mess on top of his head that you made, while his heavy stare fixates on the chain still hanging off your neck. Right where he left it.
Leaning over to turn the volume down on his boombox, he doesnât break eye contact, giving you that crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat pushing up the two moles on his cheek. Raising his hands in a silent apology, you try not to think about how big they look or the way they grabbed at your hips last night. It's a fruitless effort, so you try to make up for it with a sassy tongue.
âWow, I could have easily stolen one of these cars if I had wanted to.âÂ
Crossing your arms, you suck at your teeth, deciding that standing right where you are is the best move, especially when you see the sweat that glistens, beading off of his tan skin, curling the coarse hairs on his chest thatâs hardly hidden by the sheer white of his tank top. At least his coveralls are fully on this time.
âMaybe I should report you to Eddie.â
âMost of the cars in here donât run,â Steve tuts, dark eyes roaming over your curves hugged tight by the soft cotton of your dress unashamed before meeting your narrowed gaze, âYou of all people should know that.â
âSounds like maybe youâre just bad at your job.âÂ
You ignore the uncontrollable press of your thighs that only gets worse the more his smile widens with your attitude, reading your body language like his favorite book.
âDid you come here just to pick a fight?â Steve sighs, carding another hand through his hair, threatening to punch the air out of your lungs when he looks up at you through his lashes âOr do you just want another kiss?â
Itâs impossible to sound out the word ânoâ even though itâs just two letters because watching him lick his full bottom lip before tugging it between his perfect teeth makes you wish it was yours instead. Â
âIs that it baby?â Steve taunts, pushing himself off the work bench and tossing the crumbled paper aside.
âNo,â you finally manage to get out, but the venom you had less than twenty-four hours ago is gone, and it barely stings when you try to deny with a jut of your chin and a quieter than intended, âThatâs not why Iâm here.â
The little bit of self-control youâve been hanging onto with an iron grip starts to slip from in between your fingers with each heavy thud of his boots that bring you closer to your demise as he closes the gap.
âAre you sure?â He asks with a glint in the darkening russet of his eyes that land on the gold wrapped around your neck again, close enough now to smell last night's leftover cologne.
âA-absolutely,â you stutter, taking a few steps back, the clack of your flip flops echoing, making you wince with embarrassment as you try to counteract his advances only for your back to hit the cool metal of a pickup truck.Â
âHmmm, I know what it must be then,â he hums, a faint hint of smirk twisting the corners of his full lips, big boots stopping with a scuff on the cement floor right in front of your pink painted toes.Â
Reaching up, his bold fingertips trace the smooth edges of his chain, rough calluses tickling your collar bone daring to explore a little more. The quick rising of your chest spurs him on as he tries to hold his composure, teasing the dip of your breasts, he curls his finger around the metal, lifting the chain a little before letting it fall back into place. Mischief twinkles in his stare that matches the same color staining his hands.
âYou must be here to tell me when youâll be ready for our date later tonight, huh baby?â
It takes your brain a second to catch up, the freckles that spread across his cheeks like wildfire in the light distracting you from this close.
âThe opposite actually,â clearing your throat, you try to hide the way your tongue dries when he looks at you like this, âIâm here to say that whatever happened last night doesnât change anything.âÂ
The corners of his lips twitch, his gaze getting lost in the details of your features like you werenât denying him, finally giving you the fuel you needed to make your blood simmer, the anger you thought youâd lost forever buzzing under your heated skin.
âSo!â You snap your fingers in his face, interrupting whatever daydream he was getting lost in, getting the glare you were searching for, âYou better get that out of your head right now. Weâre not going on a date.âÂ
Your words finally bite with a tone that almost seems final and for a minute it starts to feel like you have a semblance of your self-control back. Holding your head up high, you try to really end whatever started on your best friend's couch last night.Â
âWe can be friendly for Robinâs sake, but itâs never going to happen again. Iâm not your girl, Harrington.â
Steve rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something you canât quite put your finger on flashing behind the gold in his eyes. Leaning forward, his hand finds the chipped teal paint of the truck behind you. Caging you in, the spice of his cologne overwhelms you as it mixes with the heat in the garage, and the sweat glistening on his tan skin. The warmth of his breath fans across your cheeks that burn like theyâre being licked by a flame, thighs pressing harshly under your dress as you try not to let his gaze swallow you whole.Â
âIf thatâs how you really feel, fine.â He says cooly, seemingly unphased and it makes your blood boil more. âIâll take my chain back now then.â
 âNo.â
âNo?â He snorts incredulously at your refusal, watching the way your fingers come up to play with it. Taunting him.
âI donât even know why you put it on me in the first place,â you scoff with a roll of your eyes, channeling his nonchalance before ducking under his arm, your escape in sight.
You refuse to look back at him making a beeline to the open garage door, heart thumping wildly in your chest as you do your best not to give away the attachment you have to the weight of it around your neck that you really arenât ready to unpack yet.
âI left it!â Steve yells hot on your heels, the cracks in his confident demeanor starting to show, âI left it so you didnât think I just disappeared on you this morning because I personally have zero regrets about what happened last night.â
The sarcastic âHA!â you let out is almost comical, picking up your pace with an extra sway to your hips because you know heâs staring.
âHow about this, Steve?â You antagonize, turning around and walking backward with a smug grin that mirrors his from before, âIâll think about it.â
Steve doesnât take the bait, instead, he side-steps quickly to smash the round red button on the wall with a deadpan face. Letting the rumble of the garage door coming to life do all the talking for him.
âAre you serious?!â You shriek, watching it close faster than your feet can carry you, even contemplating a tuck and roll when you see the sunlight and any chance you have at not going back on your promise start to disappear behind it.
âItâs simple honey,â he sighs with an irritated edge, âGive me my chain and Iâll open her back up so you can go run back to Robinâs and pretend like last night never happened. Just the way you want, right?â
âThis is ridiculous. Youâre ridiculous. Let me out asshole!âÂ
A new level of stubbornness that you never thought you could reach locks you in place, facing him with arms crossed tight over your chest.
âIâm ridiculous?â Steve chuckles darkly, the steel toe of his boots echoing louder now that youâre sealed inside as he walks towards you, âLook at yourself.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â You snap despite the way your teeth gnaw nervously on your bottom lip, greedy eyes roaming his tall frame as your body betrays you for what feels like the hundredth time today when he steps into your space again.
âI know you enjoyed drama club in high school, but youâve always been a terrible actress.âÂ
âAnd youâve always had way more confidence than you should.âÂ
Steveâs nostrils flare, his gaze threatening to set you on fire.
âIâm going to get back to work, youâre free to go whenever you give me my necklace back. Iâm getting paid to be here all day baby, you arenât, so just know that Iâve got time.â He holds your stare for a second longer, sucking at his teeth before turning around. Testing you.
âCome take it off me then, Harrington, if you want it so bad.â Â
Two can play that game.
He stops in his tracks, shoulders tensing at the implication of your words, turning his head to the side, he gives you a perfect view of his sharp jawline.Â
âDonât start something you canât finish,â he warns, with a tone sharp enough to make your stomach flip.
âI said,â your shoulders square with a defiance that matches your glare, acting as if you arenât sealing your fate with the next four words, âCome and get it.â
Steveâs long strides close the distance faster than you can comprehend. A big hand grabs at your hip, grease-stained fingers digging into your curves, while the other cups the side of your face, surely leaving a mark. He's getting what he really wants.
Gasping into his mouth, the force of his kiss sends a shudder through the garage door when your back slams against it. Lost in the sensation of his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, you barely notice. Your fingers weave through the thick locks of his hair at the nape of his neck as if they were always meant to be there. A harsh tug on the silky strands earns you a groan that's deeper than you remember, and you immediately want to hear it again.
The clash for dominance ignites as your tongues collide clumsily, teeth grazing and noses pressing into each otherâs cheeks. His grip tightens on your hip in a warning before his hand trails down to where the bottom hem of your dress rests at the top of your thigh. Pushing up the thin fabric, the blunt tips of his nails skim across your soft skin, goosebumps pebbling despite the heat.
His fingers tease the edge of your panties, tracing the curve where they meet your ass, stealing your whine with a cocky grin that he kisses into your lips. He lingers just long enough to turn you needy before he hooks your knee around his waist, getting the instant roll of your hips and more of your little noises that will haunt his every waking thought after this.Â
âSteve,â you breathe, tugging your swollen bottom lip between your teeth while he starts kissing a slow, agonizing path down your jaw, tickling you with the stubble on his cheek.
He hums in between kisses, nipping at the sensitive spot behind your ear, he soothes it with a swipe of his tongue before he starts to suckâhard. Your moan bounces off the metal and concrete that surround you, echoing in your ears while your greedy fingers tug even harder at his roots. His grip on you tightens when you start to squirm as his efforts to mark whatâs his intensify, leaving a bruise youâll have to explain to Robin later.
âYeah?â He mumbles against your heated skin, the tip of his nose running along your pulse point, a saccharine smile pressing into the curve of your neck where his chain still rests.
âShut up,â you manage to get out, despite Steve leaving open-mouthed kisses on the swell of your breasts, palming roughly at the dough of your ass, encouraging another rock of your hips.
âYou're always so mean to me, honey,â Steve sighs, nipping at the supple skin, before meeting your poor attempt at a glare from under the thick hood of his lashes.
âYeah? And? What are you gonna do about it?â You bite, but it doesnât sting the way you want it to, not with the way your chest heaves in anticipation of his next move.
Steve flips you around so quickly that the change in position has you gasping, your palms meeting the warm metal of the garage door that bakes in the sun outside. Heavy work boots push your legs apart, while hot breath that rivals the summer dances across the nape of your neck. He presses himself into you, letting you feel just how hard you really have him, the tip of his nose brushing along the shell of your ear. Butterflies multiply, tickling your rib cage just like your lashes that kiss the tops of your cheeks.
âI think it's pretty obvious what I want to do,â he whispers against your neck, lips ghosting across the freshly formed bruise, âThe real question isâŚâ
The backs of his fingers brush along the sides of your breasts, goosebumps pebbling across your skin. His big hands follow the curve of your waist, smoothing down to the tops of your thighs. Taking his time, he curls them under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest on top of your hips, still giving you the chance to stop him. One you donât take.
âAre you gonna let me?â His words are gruff coming out next to your ear, your walls fluttering around nothing because of it.
The humid air doesnât help your sticky thighs that only get worse as two of his calloused fingers trace agonizingly slow along the waistband of the only fabric separating you now. Peppering soft kisses to all the sensitive spots that make your skin come alive, his teeth nip playfully at your earlobe, fireworks lighting up in the sky behind your eyes when he takes it into the heat of his mouth. The sensation has you mewling, jaw going slack as your toes curl into the foam of your flip flops from a feeling only Steve Harrington can give.
âI could be so nice to you, baby,â he whispers, letting you go with a pop, his fingers daring to go lower than just teasing, smirking against your cheek at the gasp you give when he drags them through your slick folds, wrapping your hands around his wrist for support, your hips chase him for more. âDonât you want that?â
Your pride has your teeth biting into your bottom lip. Refusing to answer his question loaded with too many double meanings for your head to wrap around right now, but you still spread yourself wider for him, because the last thing you want him to do is stop.
âGonna make me earn it, huh?â He breathes, biting back his groan at how you start dripping down his hand, âThatâs okay. Iâll show you Iâm worthy.â
His promise is enough to finally draw out the moan youâve been fighting, the sound making him kick up in his coveralls, while the movements of his wrist become more pointed. Your head lulls back against his broad shoulder, and his cologne smells even better with the way sweat starts to drip from his pores. Your eyes are needy, meeting the black coffee of his and you know it, especially at the furrow of his brows when he looks at you completely transfixed.
âGod, I almost forgot how soft you are. How fucking wet you get for me.â He whispers between gritted teeth, awestruck at the feeling of your silk walls begging him for more, daring him to explore, âBet you taste even sweeter than I remember too.â
Leaning down, he runs the tip of his nose along the bridge of yours, the mint that still lingers on his breath tickling your lips. Your hips roll with the rhythm of his wrist, warmth spreading across your cheeks as the sounds of just how wet you are echo in the big space. Too close to falling apart all over his fingers to care, the blunt ends of your nails dig half-crescent moons into his wrist chasing it.
âBaby, are you gonna come already? Iâve barely touched you.âÂ
His words mock you despite the sugary sweetness they drip with, every swipe against your bundle of nerves becoming unrelenting, determined even. But itâs still enough for you to take the bait and force your eyes open, meeting his hungry stare dead on and say:
âY- you wish it was that easy.â
Amusement dances across the hard lines of his face, his dark gaze narrowing before something between a laugh and a growl rumbles deep from his chest. The motions of his wrist come to a halt, and it takes everything inside of you not to cry in protest. Pulling his hand from your soaked panties, his wet fingers dig into your hips spinning you around, quick strides pushing you to the corvette that started your spiral.Â
âWhat are you doing?!â You squeal, your butt hitting the cherry-red metal of the hood that sticks to your sweat-slicked skin.
He just grins, the pearly whites of his teeth showing as grease-stained hands spread your knees apart enough for him to step between, leaving raven fingerprints in their wake before grabbing at your chin, he forces you to look at him.
âNeed you to keep your eyes on me, honey, and remember what you just said.â He pulls your bottom lip down with the pad of his thumb, watching it pop back into place.Â
Letting go of your chin, he holds your stare, fingers ghosting across the tops of your thighs as he drops to his knees like someone praying to a god. Hooking his arms under your bent legs, he tugs you to the end of the hood with a squeak. Spread wide for him to see, your calves rest on top of his shoulders that you hate to admit you wish you could see. Leaning forward, the tip of his nose traces the wet path of your covered folds, breathing you in like the sweetest summer breeze.
When his big eyes meet yours from between your thighs, just begging you to get lost in them like you used to, itâs almost enough for you to forget the game youâre both supposed to be playing. Thereâs a softness that lingers inside melting caramel that manages to shine through the black that overpowers it, and you wonder if he can hear the way your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.Â
His touch is gentle now, long fingers curling around the waistband of your underwear, silently asking you for permission to cross the line that deep down you know thereâs no going back from. Nodding your head with your bottom lip tucked between your teeth, you even help him, lifting your legs when he pulls them from around your ankles.
Steve stuffs the satin in his pocket ignoring the way you tell him that you want them back. His pink tongue thatâs seconds away from being your undoing wets his lips, jaw going tight at the sight in front of him. Roses bloom on his tan cheeks, and he canât help but run a hand through his hair, the reality setting in that he really has you like this. He looks completely wrecked. At least it isnât just you.
âFuck.â He breathes, the blunt ends of his nails digging into the dough of your thighs, shuffling himself even closer, his eyes glaze over.Â
Goosebumps pebble across your buzzing skin, your velvet walls fluttering around nothing as you lose the witty response you had saved on the tip of your tongue, managing just a quiet, âI thought you were supposed to show me somethinâ?âÂ
His lips twitch so close to where you need him most that you can almost feel the curve of them, your knees bending just a little more, urging him on by his shoulders.
âSo impatient,â he tsks, the vibrations of his words only making it worse, âMy girl needs me huh? She missed me as much as I missed her didnât she?â
âSteve - shut uhhhhohmygod!â
His mouth latches onto your cunt like heâs thirsty for everything youâre offering him, collecting your dripping honey thatâs sweet on his tongue. Running a broad stripe up your folds, his grip on your thighs tightens when you start to squirm, holding you in place, as he swirls messy circles on your bundle of nerves before sucking it hard enough for your head to fall back against the car. Your fingers bury themselves into the sweaty silk of his hair, pulling harshly at the roots, earning the kind of grunt that has you whimpering, dripping down the stubble on his chin as your hips buck up to meet him.
Letting you go with a loud pop, he huffs out a dark laugh at your whine, hardly giving you time to recover before pulling you even further down the hood of the car, till your ass hangs off the edge. The tip of his nose brushes against your sensitive clit while his tongue begins to tease your entrance that quivers just for him. The new angle has you practically sitting on his face, and before you have a chance to overthink it he slowly starts to work you open with his greedy mouth.
âHoly shit I -â Your eyelids droop, jaw going slack as he starts to move side to side, licking into you like youâre the sweetest prize. His nose adds just the right amount of pressure while he eats you up like a man starved, âYouâre gonna - fuck - Steve!â
His hands move from your thighs to the soft fat of your ass, encouraging your hips more, and if you werenât so far gone, youâd be scared youâre suffocating him. You dare to look down at the scene between your legs, and itâs almost enough to have you cumming all over his face. His pitch-black eyes gaze up at you enamored, completely lost and still hungry because after all these years itâs still not enough. He moans into your folds when you meet his half-lidded stare, the sensation vibrating in all the right places, making your legs shake.
The feeling of your walls pulsing tight around his tongue, knowing how close you are already has him twitching painfully hard in his coveralls. Itâs enough to ignore the discomfort of his knees, doubling down on the movements of his jaw. His name bounces off the metal and concrete, while the roll of your hips gets more and more aggressive because it feels like heâs eating you from the inside out, the tip of his tongue reaching the spot that makes you gasp.
âRight there, shit, right there, right there, Iâm gonna, oh my god Iâm gonna cum!â
Your scream is silent, body going rigid, giving into him already. The muscles in your legs tense, as your thighs squeeze tight around his head while your pussy tries to push him out but he only doubles down with a completely relentless tongue. He moans loud enough inside you to hear through the ringing in your ears, your fingers curling harshly in his thick locks, back hitting the metal of the hood again.
He ignores the first few pushes against his forehead when his kitten licks become too much before he finally listens. Sticky legs fall open releasing him from a trap he never asked to escape from, his shiny wet lips leaving kisses along your shaking thighs, tickling the supple skin with the stubble on his jaw. You feel his tongue dart out to collect everything he missed, earning the kind of sweet noises he canât wait to hear all summer long.Â
Steve stands up wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and you try to be mad at his smug grin but your body canât help its reaction to the way he struggles against his coveralls. The hard outline of dick reminds you of the stretch that you know will ruin you for anyone else, spent walls fluttering despite yourself.Â
âNow what was that you were saying a few minutes ago, pretty girl?â Leaning down, his palms find a new home on either side of your head.Â
The whites of his teeth shine at the eyeroll you find enough energy to give him, even with your legs wrapped around his waist. His nose nudges the tip of yours, the playful glint in his eyes changes into something lovesick and it brings the ache in your chest back because you know itâs going to hurt even worse walking away again.Â
âHey, whatâs going on up there?â He questions, placing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he searches your face for answers.
You donât give him one, pushing aside the worry for when you lay awake in the middle of the night. Instead, you let your fingers wrap themselves in the cotton of his tank top, pulling him to your lips that silently beg him to help you forget. He meets you with an eager mouth, and a big hand that comes up to rest on your flushed cheek. The pad of his thumb traces the high bone while his tongue asks you for permission for more.Â
Your thighs lock tighter around his waist, granting him the access he wants, tasting yourself all over him. Shaking fingers find the zipper of his jumper, tugging down the metal, he helps your shimmy off his sleeves. The freckles that dot his shoulders like the night sky beg you to open your eyes as the top of his coveralls fall to his sides, the rock of his hips making you say his name like itâs the sweetest thing.Â
âWant you,â you whisper with a nip at his bottom lip, ankles crossing at the two dips you know are on his lower back.
âBaby,â He groans, dropping his head down, burying it in the crook of your neck as you roll your pussy over the length of him thatâs still covered by the navy blue material you canât seem to get off fast enough.
He lets you do it a few more times before his hands find both your wrists, pinning them above your head, he peppers kisses along your jaw, letting his fingers glide down the length of your body, making sure to catch his chain still hanging off your neck as he stands back up. You finally get a good look at him, and the sight is enough to know the memory of today will be etched into the corners of your mind, just like the rest of them.Â
Pink cheeks still kissed by the sun, and dark chestnut hair that matches his eyes twist at its golden ends in an even bigger mess now on the top of his head. The thick thatch of it on his chest curling from the sweat that drips down his neck, leaving translucent patches along the white cotton of his tank top, teasing even more of him to your starving gaze. His uniform hangs low on his hips, giving you a glimpse of the waistband of his boxer briefs, making you tug your bottom lip between your teeth. He grabs at the sides of your thighs, his handsome face going kind.
âYou came in here ready to tell me to fuck off,â he laughs softly, thumbs rubbing gentle circles, âI just need to know this is what you really want.â
His words tighten in your chest, forcing you to make a decision so that when you have no one else to blame but yourself when you lay awake in your apartment with a broken heart in the fall, you canât hate him anymore.Â
âI really want it.âÂ
The answer stumbles past your lips before you can think too hard about it, pulling the rest of your rucked up dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed for his heavy chocolate eyes to drink in. Despite the muggy heat of the garage, your nipples pebble under it, cheeks going hot because you always feel like the most beautiful girl in the world when Steve Harrington looks at you like this.Â
Itâs all the encouragement he needs to let you go and do the same with his tank top, tossing it to the side before shoving the rest of his uniform down the tops of his thighs. Thick, long and heavy, your eyes widen as his hard length springs free, smacking against the happy trail at the bottom of his stomach. The pink tip leaks for you, shining with precum, while his big hand wraps around it, tugging a few times and making you drip more on the hood.
âIâll go slow,â he coos, leaning down to capture your lips in something sweeter than the rest of them. âI know you can take it, honey.â
Nodding your head, you look up at him with glassy eyes, completely giving in, shutting off the part of your brain thatâs telling you that you know better. Spreading your legs wider, his eyebrows marry in the middle of his forehead, cursing under his breath at the sight of you like this. He silently thanks whatever gods or girl that got Eddie sick, because this moment shatters any fantasies that have consumed his late nights.Â
He runs the length of his cock through your slick, spreading you apart around him, earning the kind of mewl that makes him twitch in his hand. Your back arches off the corvette when he does it again only this time with added pressure to your clit. Locking your legs around his waist, you make sure he doesnât get away.Â
âSo fuckinâ beautiful baby, Jesus Christ, look at you.â Steve grunts, lining himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip into the tightening silk of your walls before both his hands find their way back to your hips, fingers digging into soft flesh. âWanna make you feel so good. You gonna let me?â
âMmhmm,â you whimper a little high pitch and out of breath, letting go of all the control youâve hung onto for the last five years with a dirty roll of your hips that begs to suck him in.
âOh fuck, youâre still so - shit.â Steve practically whines, his jaw going hard with eyebrows that pinch together, trying to regain his composure from the way you pulse around him just nudging halfway in, the aftershocks of your first orgasm have you feeling every ridge of his cock, lighting your body up.
The stretch burns, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as flames lick deep in your gut from the feeling youâll never get enough of. His calloused fingers grab at your chin, demanding your attention. Your lashes tickle the tops of your cheeks as you force them back open, only to find his face is closer now, both his palms landing on either side of your head, black irisâs threatening to drown you, holding your gaze with the kind of intensity that makes your heart palpitate.
âI want to look at you.â He breathes against your lips as one swift thrust has you completely filled up.
âSteve!âÂ
Gasping into his mouth, it takes all of your strength to keep your eyes open, focusing on the imperfect circles of the chestnut freckles that explode across the bridge of his nose.
âYeah?â He smirks, pressing his forehead against yours, the rough hair on his chest tickling the softness of your breasts, nipples pebbling as your arms wrap around his neck.
âIt feels, you feel -â
A loud moan rumbles from the back of your throat when the tip of him hits the spot that makes your toes curl into the fat of his ass, pushing him even deeper, the ends of your nails dig pretty marks all over his shoulders.Â
âTell me, baby. Tell me how good it feels.â He grunts, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth, the roll of his hips becoming a slow grind.Â
His pelvic bone hits your bundle of nerves just right while the tip of him bullies the spot that has your eyes threatening to close against his wishes, and it has you sounding like âSteveâ is the only word youâve ever known. Itâs a hazy mess inside your mind, especially when he looks at you like this. Itâs worse than before, and you donât know how youâre going to find your way back this time, something different inside of his gaze that you know is going to make it impossible.
âMissed you so much, so damn gorgeous angel, think about you all the time. All the fucking time.â Steve babbles, completely drunk off the way you flutter at his words, the angry facade youâve been putting on crumbling around him as your body lets the truth come out.
The confession makes your chest tighten with all the unresolved feelings youâve shoved down for so long, the ones you almost forgot were there until a few weeks ago. Fingers curling into the hair on the nape of his neck you lean up, capturing his lips to shut him up, rocking your hips to meet his thrust. He grunts into your mouth, cock twitching against your walls, eagerly licking into your mouth.Â
Itâs easier to get lost in him without the reminder of what used to be, teeth scraping together as the kiss gets messier. The metal of the car crunches and bends under your movements, but neither one of you can find it in you to care with noses pressing into each other's cheeks, tongues fighting for the kind of dominance your hips are at war about.
Steve is the one that breaks first, coming up for air, with eyes that seem even darker than before as he pushes himself up to stand. Big hands grab at your hips as a loose strand of hair falls across his forehead. Pulling halfway out, he takes a moment to admire the sheen you coat him, pink tongue darting out to lick his swollen lips before shoving himself all the way back in.
âOh my god!â You gasp, throwing your head back against the hood, your hands landing on top of his, fingernails digging into the tops of them.
âI wanna watch you cum again, can you do that for me, baby?â He tugs you closer, your body squeaking across the metal that tries to stick to your skin, the tip of him hitting that spot again.
Nodding your head, every hard thrust of his hips echoes through the garage, the car shaking underneath you as tires threaten to roll. He feels himself getting close, the pad of his thumb finding your clit to rub the kind of messy circles that have you saying his name just how he likes.Â
âCome on, let me see how pretty you can get, let me have it.â He coos, finding the perfect combination to make you come undone all over him.
Your walls clench hard enough to try and push him out but he just buries himself deeper, a loud groan rumbling from his chest watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. White dances behind your heavy lids that squeeze shut as your legs start to shake around his waist. You try to shove his hand away, but he refuses, remaining relentless, milking your second orgasm for everything it's worth, making you cum even harder.Â
âYeah, thatâs it, thatâs iiiiit, so fuckinâ good for me.â He praises, completely lost in the way your body responds to him and itâs enough to send him flying over the edge heâd been teetering on since had you against the garage door.
A string of curse words falls pretty from his lips, twitching hard inside you and with the last bit of strength you have, you squeeze him even tighter, relishing in the way his jaw goes slack because of it. The movements of his thumb finally end its assault so he can grab onto your sides with both hands, fingers digging bruises as one last hard thrust has his warmth filling you up.
The feeling of being so full sends your body buzzing, watching him fall apart on top of you with sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. His head drops between his shoulders, body shaking as his orgasm rakes through him. Red cheeks and skin so warm it rivals the sun, he lets himself collapse on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck totally spent, still chasing his high with a slow circle of his hips.
Your nose finds its way into his damp hair, inhaling deeply because it somehow smells even better than before. You wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you know you should leave and forget this ever happened, but it feels too good to have hands sliding up your curves as he starts to drip out of you and onto the car.Â
âGod, Eddieâs going to kill me.â He mumbles against your skin, making you squirm because it tickles, and you can feel him smile because of it.
âHowâs he gonna find out?â You giggle, the metal of the Corvette popping under your shifting weight.
âBaby.â Steve snorts, leaving a kiss on the curve of your jaw before pushing himself up on his elbows, the endearment falling too easily off his tongue in a casual way, reminding you very quickly of your reality.
Itâs harder to meet his eyes that search for yours, but you do anyway. Theyâre warm again, like a dark sand beach and it's hard not to want to lay out a towel and live inside them. Both of you wince as he pulls himself out, cursing under his breath at your walls staying greedy and trying to pull him back in.Â
He doesnât notice the shift in your demeanor pulling up his coveralls and tying the sleeves around his waist, or if he does he chooses to ignore it, grabbing your dress off the floor before offering you his hand. Thereâs less grease staining them now and you know it's because it's all over you, completely marked by him nearly head to toe whether you like it or not.Â
Sliding your hand in his, you duck your head down as you take it, legs wobbling when your feet hit the ground, not missing the smug grin that pushes up his cheeks clocking it. You go for your dress but Steve just tuts at you pulling it out of reach, ignoring your scoff he shakes it out before lifting it above your head signaling for you to put your arms up. Rolling your eyes with a smile you canât fight, you pretend not to feel the butterfly wings tickling your ribcage, turning around and doing as he asks, letting him drag the soft cotton down your body. Calloused fingertips tracing the goosebumps they create.
âLetâs go get cleaned up in the bathroom,â he hums softly, grabbing you by the hips, and pressing a kiss into the fresh bruise behind your ear.
You tell yourself youâll leave after this letting him guide you by the waist and a chin on your shoulder. You think it again when the small space of the bathroom is filled with giggles and bashful smiles as he sits you on the closed toilet seat, wetting paper towels that turn into mache in his hands. You scream at yourself to do it watching him try and fix his hair in the mirror after wiping you down the best he can, pressing kisses on both your kneecaps.Â
âIâve been using this new product, but nothing hits like Farrah. I canât believe they discontinued it. Dustin swears he can find me some, but who knows if you can even trust itâs the real deal, you know?â
Steve interrupts your inner turmoil with a face thatâs far too serious for the words that just left his mouth and the thoughts running through your head. Your mood shifts almost instantly with a laugh loud enough to turn his cheeks the color of your toes, giving you an exaggerated eye roll despite the twitch of his lips.
âI canât believe you still hang out with a middle schooler.â You tease, getting up on your feet, legs feeling a little less like jello but the reminder between your thighs only seems to intensify.
âI told you heâs like 19 - â
âWhatever you gotta tell yourself, Steve,â you grin, taking the break in the intensity of everything to try and work up the self-control to leave, wincing at the echoing clack of your flip flops that give you away instantly.
âWait, where are you going?â Steveâs brows furrow in confusion, turning around to face you, he tightens the sleeves wrapped around his waist, biceps flexing while all the playfulness drains from his eyes.
âI should go before Robin -â
âWhat? No, sheâll be fine, itâs like noon. Iâm sure sheâs not even awake yet.âÂ
âSteve.â
âHoney.â
The two of you face off in a silent challenge, stares unwavering, mimicking each other with arms crossover over your chests.Â
âDonât run again.â He pleads with a whisper thatâs barely audible against the beating of your heart in your ears, the room feeling smaller.
âIâm not running, Iâm walking.â You try to lighten the mood with a joke, the corners of your eyes stinging but you refuse to acknowledge why.
âIâm not letting you walk home.â
âItâs down the road-â
âI donât care! Youâre not walking. Let me close up and then Iâll at least drive you.âÂ
You donât argue with the hurt expression on his face, you canât.
Itâs somehow even hotter outside when the two of you sneak out the side door of the garage. A different kind of tension hangs thick in the air putting the humidity to shame, even with the sun shimmering from the highest point in the sky. His skin glows like liquid gold in its rays as he walks in front of you, your eyes following the movements of his freckled shoulders that flex with every swing on his arms. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hate the pit that settles deep in your gut because you donât want to say goodbye just yet. Another consequence of a choice you made rearing its ugly head.
You arenât expecting him to open the passenger door for you, the metal creaking loudly breaking a silence thatâs filled with a thousand unspoken words just hanging on the tip of both of your tongues waiting to fill up the space. His gaze meets yours from under the thick length of his lashes, the corners of his lips twisting at the way you get bashful from the gesture.
âThanks,â you whisper, catching a whiff of his cologne as you duck into the passenger seat thatâs starting to feel like yours again.
He just hums in response, shutting it quickly and trapping you inside a metal box filled with every smell that reminds you of him. It pulls at your heart, and intensifies the burn between your thighs. Your fingers come up to twist the metal that still dangles from your neck, and youâre not sure you can bring yourself to give it back after this. The already small space of the car shrinks even more when the driver side door opens and he slides in next to you with a huff, keys jingling loudly in his hand closing the door behind him.Â
His shoulders brush with yours shoving the keys in the ignition, the seat vibrating underneath you as the beemer quietly roars to life. He keeps his hand on the stick shift, sweat slick skin pressing into yours shifting the car into drive. The radio isnât as loud as you thought itâd be considering the way he was blasting it in the shop. Meatloafâs Iâd Do Anything For Love spills out of the speakers and you try not to laugh at the irony, scrambling to think of what to say to him as Robinâs apartment complex quickly comes into view.Â
But he never stops.
âSteve, what are you doing?â You sigh, crossing your arms across your chest watching the baby blue paneling of her apartments whiz past.Â
âThis is technically my lunch break, and Iâm hungry.â He shrugs, glancing at you with something mischievous in his eyes that you want to smack away because it makes your heart skip a beat, âYouâre telling me youâre not starving after that honey?â
Smacking your lips together, you roll your eyes as hard as you can, trying to hide the smile that pushes up your cheeks.Â
âWow, your confidence always just astounds me.â Shaking your head, your sarcastic laugh only makes him grin.
âI think you like it.âÂ
You canât bring yourself to deny it, fluttering your lashes at him with an attitude instead.
âBut if you really canât stand the thought of spending like another hour with me, Iâll turn around right now, honey.â You know he means it, feeling his foot slowly press on the brake in anticipation for your answer, âJust say the words.â
âSay it, say turn around Steve.â
âTake me somewhere with fries.â
When you left Robinâs house this morning, you didnât think watching Steve juggle two shakes and a large order of fries to the booth youâre sitting at with a heart so full it threatens to crack your chest, was where youâd end up at. His cheeks flush a deep shade red almost losing his footing, lovesick eyes too busy staring at you to watch where his boots land.Â
God, this was not a part of the plan.
âI got you strawberry,â his grin is proud, remembering your favorite from high school when he drops your cool treat in front of you, and instead of sliding into the seats across the table, he plops down into the spot right next to you, knees bumping underneath the wood.
âWhat if I wanted chocolate?â You tease, body turning into a lit match pressing into his side.
âThatâs what I got, and maybe, if you ask nicely,â he breathes, leaning in close enough for the tips of your noses to brush, âIâll share.â
You wonder if he can hear the way you swallow at his tone over that oldies station that plays in the Hawkins Diner.Â
âNo thanks, you can keep your cooties.â Sighing, you have to fight the twitch of your lips tearing your eyes away from him to focus on the fried potatoes in front of you.
âI think itâs a little late for that baby, Iâm afraid youâre completely covered in them.â He doesnât hesitate to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek that's loud enough to catch the attention of the girls thatâd been staring at him since the two of you walked in.
âSteve!â You try to scold, but the smile that spreads across your face gives you up, even if you wipe the kiss away with the back of your hand.
âWhat?â He smirks, grabbing a few fries and plopping them in his mouth and you try not to focus on the way his tongue darks out to collect the salt left over on his lips.
âI canât stand you.â
Itâs impossible to keep a straight face around him, even avoiding the playful gold that swirls in his gaze that hasnât stopped showering you with adoration.Â
âWhatever you have to tell yourself to sleep better at night.â He shrugs, taking a big swig of his shake, subtly scooting closer so your thighs touch.
The two of you eat in a peaceful silence for a few minutes, your head swimming with questions as your morning starts to really sink in. But your nerves make it impossible to focus on just one, especially every time you fingers brush, catching his small smirk from the corner of your eyes.
âSo tell me something,â you try, ignoring the slight shake in your voice, âHow did Steve Harrington, âking of Hawkinsâ, become a mechanic? I always thought youâd be in some big office with a suit working for your dad.âÂ
You notice the sour look that contorts the handsome features on his face at the former nickname again and you immediately feel bad for saying it. His thick eyebrows furrow, marrying in the middle as he tries to shake it off with a few harsh blinks grabbing another handful of fries.
âUmm, I did work for my dadâs firm for like six months actually.â He confesses, clearing his throat before tossing them into his mouth. âI think we hate each other even more now.â
âIâm sorry, I didnât mean to be rude that's not why I asked -â
âHoney, youâre fine.â He smiles warmly, a big palm finding the top of our thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it occupy the space permanently.Â
âTurns out Iâm a terrible office manager. Iâd get super overwhelmed, which made me disorganized and weâd lose clients making my dad pissed, then one day I just kinda snapped after he laid into me in his office. Had a panic attack and then never showed my face there again.â
âSteve-â
âI knew he was going to fire me anyway, itâs fineâ he laughs, running his free hand through his hair, the other sliding down your thigh so his thumb can rub circles into the soft skin next to your knee cap.
âSo I wallowed in self pity for a month before Eddie started needing help at the shop. At first it just gave me something to do, heâd teach me a few things and turns out, Iâm actually pretty good at it. It honestly feels really fucking freeing to stop being the person everyone expected me to be.â
He smiles with all his teeth, the kind of pride radiating off of him that makes the hard brick wall youâve built around yourself start to soften, cracks forming in its foundation.
âWell, it looks good on you Harrington.â You have to look away when you say it, the butterflies becoming unbearable, because you werenât supposed to feel like this. âI guess.â
He snorts at your stubbornness, bumping shoulders with you before snatching your strawberry shake earning the kind of glare that makes him realize heâs never going to get over you.Â
Steveâs one hour lunch turns into two, almost becoming three getting lost in the kind of conversation that barely scratches the surface of everything youâve missed. Itâs all hushed tones, sweet eyes, and linked fingers that threaten to make you fold again, with the only thing saving you is the reminder of the mess you made on top of his client's Corvette, and Steve reluctantly admitting he needed to leave so he didnât actually lose his job in the morning.Â
It didnât matter though, he got his date.Â
And when he pulls up to Robinâs he doesnât hesitate to steal your breath away, grabbing you by the chin, giving you the kind of kiss over the center console that leaves you dizzy, just like in high school. He doesnât ask for his chain back, and you donât offer it, bounding up the stairs to the apartment with it shimmering against your chest.
anyone who shits on this must not remember the buzzcut channing tatum had for YEARS and how good it looked. joe has the perfect jawline for it like COME ON ME
a multi chapter mini seriesâ based on thoroughfare by ethel cain
listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)
summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. youâve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling youâve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope.
triggers: 18+ smut
authorâs note: no upside down, eddie was raised by his mom and dad in florida and they were in love.
The wet shell of a sunflower seed stuck to the tip of your finger. Slicked with salted spit and the tart bite of cherry chapstick, you hung your hand out of the passenger window, waiting for the western wind to blow the husk from your finger.
His thumb rubs against the rough edges of the flint wheel of his zippo, the sweet tang of tobacco invading your nose as the flame sparks leaving a burning cherry on the white paper. A slight chap to his lips from too much sun yesterday at the motel pool in BullHead City, you had supposed. Still, you couldnât tear your eyes away from him. The only time you could was when his eyes caught yours, daring you to look away.
The way he stared at you with a smirk twisted on his mouth took every bit of breath from your lungs. Holding your gaze in a cozy embrace with the deep warmth of his russet colored eyes until you finally forced yours to break away and look out the window instead. Bottom lip bit between your lips as a growing heat travels over the apples of your cheeks.
If you would have looked back at him youâd have noticed the way he licked his lips as he watched you sigh as if you hadnât been breathing. Snapping another sunflower seed between your teeth before putting them on the crest of your lips to put them out of the windowâ he had your movements memorized. Each more tantalizing than the next.
Neither of you were able to deny the tension between you lately, letting it build and fester, aching for relief in the form of pleasure.
The last eight weeks had started to wear heavy on your chest, and you found yourself daydreaming about the beginning of this adventure, like a record on an endless spin to your favorite song.
Not a single radio station would come in wherever the hell it was in Texas he was right now. With every crank of the tuning dial, only the agonizing noise of static strained through the speakers to keep him company as he drove along this highway that never seemed to end.
He cursed himself for not buying a map at the gas station he filled the truck up at this morning. His gut instinct usually guided him on which roads to take, and today was no different. Only today felt like he was pulled by something else, something deeper within himself.
The sky was a mix of cyan and cotton clouds, already hot for May, he was just about to give up on the radio before he popped over a hill and an oldies station came in clear as could be. And something else came into view, plenty far away yet.
Hot wind whipped at your shirt, providing next to nothing for comfort as you trudged along the broken asphalt. You now understood why this place was called the Lone Star State, because you havenât seen a damn soul in miles. For today, you didnât mind the loneliness. Leaving home, years ago, you didnât have a destination in mind, only the knowledge that you needed to get the hell out.
Whatever highway you were on looked to be deserted. As if the state built a multi-laned monstrosity elsewhere and gave up on this slow, lonely stretch, leaving it to the elements. Prairie grass poked through the splintered road, tumbleweeds swayed in the ditches, collecting and tangling as one like a tawny bundle of barbed wire.
Looking behind you, a vehicle showed in the distance like a wavy mirage in the desert. You had half a thought to stick your thumb out and catch a ride to the nearest bus station, but when the vehicle got closer your conscience took over, and anxiety thumped in your chest.
Please donât stop, please please.
The engine hummed to a lower gear, and you automatically put a hand on the pistol at your waistband. Moving further over to the side of the road where whoever was driving could see that you werenât interested in their good deed, you kept your head down and kept walking.
Tires slowed and you went into a small panic, wishing you had something sharp to hold between your fingers, but the barren highway offered no such vice.
You heard faint music as the vehicle got closer, crawling almost to a stop as you quickened your steps hoping they would just keep going and leave you be.
âPretty hot out today⌠need a lift?â
The voice felt like velvet on your skin, a warmth youâd never known. Endearingly charming, no southern twang like someone from Texas would have. You ignored him, letting the crunch of gravel on your worn boots answer instead.
You had never been given the luxury to trust someone, and youâd be damned if you were gonna start today with some stranger on the side of the road. Heart rate kicking up, you all but bolted to avoid him.
âBaby donât run, Iâll take you anywhere,â his drawl wrapped around you like a vice, soft and pillowy, and finally your curiosity got the better of you, as you came to a halt. You wanted to look this asshole in the eyes and flash him the pistol you kept, maybe fire a warning shot over the hood of his truck so heâd get the message. That no, in fact you did not need a ride, not from him.
Stopping so his passenger window lined up with you in the center you eyed the only other beating heart on the side of the road.
His hair was past his shoulders, brown and wavy, more than likely frizzy in high humidity. Eyes that were shaped like Bambiâs colored like a bottomless cup of coffee without creamer. His nose sat with a fading sunburn painting along his cheeks, each dwelling a poked dimple in the center. And you swore the key to Heaven was buried in his smile.
When he spoke it was clear that his intentions werenât to cause you any harm. Minutes ticked by as he waited for your answer.
âHey, do you wanna see the West with me?â
It was a simple question asked from the quirked mouth of a guy youâd never met before, you would have remembered those eyes in any setting. He leaned an elbow out his window as he threw the truck in park, twisting in his seat to face you a little more. A cigarette dangling from his large hand.
The butter colored sun shone against his caramel curls like a breakfast roll full of sticky sugar, the same light changing his eyes into a whiskey auburn.
He was a complete stranger, but what was even stranger was your one word answer that spread that million dollar grin further onto his face than you thought humanly possible.
You moved your hand from that handle of the gun in your tattered jeans, bearing more holes than actual threads of denim. It was meant for situations just like this, and you had nabbed it from your dad right before you walked out the front door for the very last time.
Instinct told you to run, but something in those dark eyes brought you a wave of calm, whispering out as if youâd known him for years. Your boots had already blistered your heels from walking this far, so what the hell?
Pressing a thumb into the release of the door handle, you swung yourself and your knitted bag into the moth-bitten navajo rug that covered the seat.
His smile didnât fade, never so much as creased into a frown as he waited for you to get situated. Before he put his truck into drive he explained where he was going.
He was making the grand gesture of looking for love like the kind he grew up watching with his own mom and dad. Explaining that love like that was out there waiting for him, and he was determined to find it, no matter the distance.
Suspicion jumped to your brow, and you tried to stifle the scowl on your lip. âWhat?â he chirped, a little twist to his lips, âdonât believe in stuff like that?â
This bastard clearly didnât know heartache the way you were practically related to it. You sigh lazily before looking over at him. Trying not to break his dreams before he even had the chance to realize what a waste of time it was, you simply murmur, âhoney, loveâs never meant much to me, but Iâll come with you if youâre sure thatâs what you need.â
After years of living and growing without being loved, it had become almost useless, something heard in songs or read in books, surely it wasnât real. But hell, youâd humor this man whose smile danced like a western sunset against a salty ocean breeze, what was the worst that could happen?
A large calloused hand reached across the cab of the truck, and you shook it with a small grin as his voice rubbed like silk across your soul, âIâm Eddie.â
And so it began, the journey to find a love daring to be something greater than anything heâd ever known, hell bent and determined it was out there, wherever that may be.
He had asked about your life. Never pushing when your answers were too short, or ended the conversation entirely. Letting you have your space, he built a trust between the two of you that you werenât sure about at first.
The roads were desolate, and you couldnât imagine walking along them alone. You thanked whoever cared that your thoroughfare crossed into his, almost as if destiny had placed you there. Knowing you needed a friend after leaving the only thing youâd ever known and not having a single soul to rely on.
But as time went by, you realized just how much you could rely on him.
That first day, he drove until the windshield bled to ink. Stars dotted across the sky once the sun went to rest, and he encouraged you to follow suit, pulling a hooded sweatshirt from behind his seat and tossing it towards you. Your hesitation told him all he needed to know, that the uncertainty of him was rooted deep. Too deep for you to let your guard down around him.
That pearl handle poked out from your hip and his kind eyes met the scared look in yours. He rubs his lips together before he speaks calmly, âyou uhm,â he looks over at you to show how serious this was to him, even if you couldnât see it in the dark, âyou donât have to worry about using that with me⌠Iâm not that kind of guy.â
His innocence spoke through his eyes in words he hadnât said, showing you that he wasnât lying, that you could trust him. You took a deep breath, wondering if you were insane for feeling comfortable with a guy you just met, but it wasnât long before you whisper, âokay.â
When you snuck a peek over at him, his face was lit by the dim lights of the dash, a smirk nestled on his lips, cheeks welled with the deepest dimples youâd ever seen, and your shoulders eased for the first time since hopping in.
Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Your head resting on the window, his sweatshirt rolled under your neck as you fell into a sleep so tender and warm you felt like a baby being lulled to bed as he sang along to the radio.
The heat from the window warmed your cheek when you woke, leaving a less than glamourous mark. Letting out an embarrassingly long yawn, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling your back crack into submission.
âShit, âm sorry, how long did I sleep?â you ask, covering your mouth again from another yawn.
Eddie smiled tiredly, his hair was wrapped into a bun at the base of his neck, sunglasses topping his nose, pushing up from his cheeks as he grins, âdonât apologize for sleeping when youâre tired,â he said, shrugging, âbesides, you probably wouldâve woken up if I crashed.â
A chuckle hits your dry throat and you cough, âwhere are we?â
âStill in Texas believe it or not,â he groans, turning it into a long yawn, holding a hand to his mouth, swallowing a bit, âI hoped we couldâve made it to New Mexico before I pulled over but Iâm starting to think that ainât gonna happen.â
You figured he would have stopped to sleep at some point in the night, even if it was just for a few hours. Guilt throttled you at the thought of him staying up while you were asleep. âI can drive while you take a nap.â
âNah,â he says with a lazy smile, looking over at you, ânot that I care if you drive my truck or not, I just think we could both use some decent sleep, watch a little tv, eat, plus⌠I need a shower.â
Taking a whoreâs bath in the gas station sinks had kept you clean, but you almost cried outright at the thought of water, cold or hot you couldnât care less, running down the length of your body. But the lack of money burning in your pocket stopped that dream in its tracks.
You had a couple hundred bucks left after selling off your car before leaving home. The cost efficient option would be to drive while he slept. âItâs really not a big deal, I promise Iâm a good driver.â
The charm you tried to emanate when pulling out your license to show him that you indeed werenât lying, fell flat as Eddie waved you off, âdeodorant only lasts so long before weâll have to ride with our heads outta the window.â
He laughs in your place as you stare out of the windshield, mind racing over the trouble of being able to afford a motel room.
âCâmon,â he smirks, that same lazy smile stretched on his face, you wondered if he ever got mad. âWe survived almost a whole day together, if I was gonna rob you I wouldâve done it already.â
âItâs not that,â you say, picking at your nails, fighting the urge to bite them to shreds, âI wasnât walking because I wanted tooâŚâ
Wheels turn in a tired mind as Eddie nearly chokes when he realizes what you meant.
âDonât worry about it,â he confirms, brushing you off as if it wasnât a big deal that youâd be bunking with him for free, and when your facial expressions didnât change, he lowered his voice, and took off his sunglasses, âseriously sweets, youâre doing me a favor keeping me company, âm not gonna make you pay for a trip you didnât plan, okay?â
You sighed, and shook your head yes.
The nearest motel was a hole in the wall type of place. Adhering to the kind of people that either paid by the hour or stayed for weeks at a time. The perk being it was next to a gas station where you refused to let Eddie pay for the armful of snacks he had carried to the counter. Including two hotdogs that you couldnât be bothered wondering how long theyâd been spinning in the warmer.
His boots clunked against the sidewalk as he jumped from the bed of the pickup hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder, the hotel keys wrapped around his forefinger. Outside of you both relieving yourselves on the empty shoulder of the highway last night, this was the first time youâd seen just how tall he was.
He squints in the sun and cocks his head, âbet you a dollar the carpet is orange.â
Room 8 consisted of two full sized beds, a lamp between the two, an arm chair and a small television. A stiff neon brochure for adult channels lay next to the remote, and you scrunched your nose as Eddie pushed it to the floor with the heel of his boot.
Laying out the snacks neatly on the table, you hand him the other hot dog, licking a drop of mustard from your palm. He thanked you, and took a bite consuming almost half of it before dropping onto the bed closest to the door, laying flat on his back.
Having four walls around you gave you a sense of peace you hadnât been expecting. Slipping off your shoes you wiggled your bare toes and sat on the bed facing away from him, rolling your socks into one another.
âHowâs the hotdog?â you asked over your shoulder, moving your bag between the side of your bed and the wall for the bathroom.
A muffled sound comes from the other side of the room as he shovels another bite in, ârubbery, but not too bad for having been made at midnight.â
You snort and swing your legs into the bed. Grabbing the hotdog from the comforter and peeling back the white paper around it, taking a small bite. It was warm, and tasted a hell of a lot better than the moldy ham sandwich you ate yesterday. A satisfied hum leaves your mouth and you giggle.
âHotdogs for breakfast⌠donât think Iâve ever had this before.â You laugh again before taking another bite of the squishy snack. Eddie looks up as he chews the remaining bite, realizing this was the first time heâd ever heard you laugh loud enough for him to hear, what a beautiful sound.
âStick with me, weâll have breakfast for dinner, too,â his tongue pokes out to lick a smear of ketchup from the corner of his lip, and he yawns loud and proud.
You cross your feet beneath your legs, a content little smile on your face. âDo I still owe you a dollar if the carpet is also brown and green?â
Your combined laughter echoes across the wood paneling and the pictures of dogs playing poker. The two of you joke about the severely dated room, agreeing that this was probably the place to stay in its prime. But the sheets were clean and thatâs about all you could ask for at this point.
Eddieâs eyes were nearly closed as he scrubs large hands down his face, his voice strained, âmind if I shower âfore I fall asleep?â
âNot at all,â you say, jumping from the bed and looking through the snacks to find the licorice, âtake all the time you need.â
He tosses the remote to your bed and unzips his bag, pulling out a toothbrush and a clean pair of boxer briefs, a minute passes and he scratches his head before diving back into the bag, yanking out a folded pair of sweatpants.
Sighing as he peels off his boots, he walks to the bathroom door and before shutting it, he pokes his head back out, a curious little grin on his lips as he asks earnestly, âyouâre not gonna run away, are you?â
You swallow the bite of licorice and smile back, âthink youâre stuck with me, if thatâs cool with you?â
His grin broadens to a cheshire smile and he says he wonât be long, promising to save some hot water.
Neither of you can quit the grin on your lips until the door unlocks, and Eddie mutters âcool,â to himself before leaving the steamed bathroom.
Diners with smudge stained windows and siding that was warped from the sun's rays, came few and far between on those lone, dust covered roads. Eddie had pulled into almost every one. âNever know when the next one will pop up, sweetheart,â he smirked, sending a wink your way that had your stomach fluttering.
Each menu, although stickier at some places than others, was relatively the same. Eggs, Bacon, Toast. Waffles at the fancier joints or maybe a bowl of fruit alongside a flapjack.
He watched you intently as your eyes scanned the menu, keeping his promise of having breakfast for supper a few week into your trip. His own stomach had been grumbling since you packed up from the last motel somewhere on the border of Oklahoma and New Mexico. A wrong turn near McCamey had taken you North to Amarillo, three hundred miles in the completely opposite direction.
Instead of screaming about the wasted fuel, Eddie had only shrugged. He was excited to cross into the panhandle, and to make a check along the list of states youâd scribbled onto a napkin a few days into the trip to cross off as you came through them.
That quiet, suspicious drifter he had picked up three weeks ago seemed to blossom with life the more he peeled back the bricks that you had surrounded yourself with. But Eddie was charismatic, easy to talk to, and you found yourself deep in the throes of explaining things to him you havenât talked about in years.
When your cheeks would heat and embarrassment creeped up your neck, you apologized for talking too much. He only shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he said that he didnât mind, he wanted to know more.
The waitress strolled back over with a cigarette hanging from her lip, a gray ash practically a mile thick on it as she grumbled about the specials and set glasses of water on the tableâice already melted besides a sliver of a stubborn cube.
âIâll take a cup of coffee,â he charmed, folding the menu placing his hands on top of it, âtwo eggs hard fried, a couple of sausage patties and wheat toast, also one of those slices of lemon meringue pie I saw in the display window.â
Without so much as a grunt, the waitress lifted her eyes to look you over. Setting down the vinyl menu, you place your order and lick your lips at the thought of the homemade lard crust on the rhubarb pie.
Looking out the window to the dry landscape, you sigh with a breath of content. You had never been this far west before, never been anywhere really besides the small town you grew up in.
Two coffees sit in front of each of you and Eddie thanks the waitress, a dimpled grin on his cheeks as he opens a packet of sugar. Warm eyes look at you as he stirs the coffee into a swirl, âNothing like home, huh?â
A smile presses to your lips and you sip the bitter liquid, chipped porcelain against your front teeth, âdefinitely not, the air is dry here.â
âYeah,â he agrees, slipping the spoon into his mouth to clean the coffee up, taking a big gulp of the burntâ probably microwavedâ concoction, âit is, but thatâs the beauty in the journey, exploring different places, meeting new people.â
He tucks a curl behind his ear, a tiny silver hoop in his lobe, you hadnât noticed before and you ask, âyou keen on picking up strangers on the side of the road?â
A laugh bubbles from his throat, and he smiles big showing all of his teeth, âin all the years Iâve been on the road, I never have, not until you,â he takes a sip of his coffee, a pretty blush rides on his cheeks, âguess I havenât run out of luck just yet.â
You hide your own smile, itching your nose, âhow long has it been?â
Eddie thinks for a minute, âwell, I left Florida when I was seventeen..,â he adds up the years on his fingers with this thumb moving to each one, â⌠shit,â he says with a smirk, âalmost nine years now.â
He was older, not by much, but you had both left at a younger age. Calling the open road and warm air home for years. Living like a Steve Earle song sporting a two pack habit and a motel tan, it seemed like fate put you on the same road that he was traveling that day.
But you push that thought away, Eddie was looking for love, and you were just tagging along like a pet, a friend at best.
âDo you ever miss it?â
He stretches himself across the booth, arms on the back of the peeling seat, pearl snaps straining against the denim from the broadness of his chest, and you find it hard not to look, âNah, Iâll go back someday, me and my girl.â
That flutter happens again in your stomach and you feel almost nauseous at how infectious his smile is.
You spend the rest of dinner that way, trying to shove down a grin with each bite of breakfast food as the sun fell behind the mountains. Letting the butterflies swarm, with each time he looked into your eyes.
Not knowing that Eddie was also slowly losing his own battles, leaving with something more in his stomach that was sweeter then the stiff meringue on that damn lemon pie.
Fuck Israel and fuck everyone who still wants to pretend this is confusing or complicated. Is it really that hard to point out the "bad people" in a scenario where a multi-billion military apparatus is handcuffing and killing children and medical staff inside a fucking hospital?
On holiday with Boyfriend!Eddie. Can't keep him out of his campaign book no matter where you go. Also can't "just act natural, babe" in front of the camera, and always ends up pulling a face, or smiling.
A/N | turns out i'm just super into writing for steve now guys i'm down bad ))):
"Please, please, m'begging here, fuck," Steve's wide eyes are glued to where his cock is sinking in and out of your sopping wet cunt, rings of creamy release pooling at the base of his shaft and matting down his dark thatch of pubes.
You're grinning down at him like a wild little thing, bright hair pulled back in a messy bun, sweat making the colour run down your forehead and neck, as you bounce up and down relentlessly, "What was it you said again, Harrington?" You muse, little moans escaping you as the fat head of his cock slides over your soft spot, "That you'd make me scream? Make me cry? I beg to differ."
Steve's at a loss for words, whimpering like a bitch in heat, and you swear this is the best the asshole had ever looked. Breaking down as he stuffs his cock in your tight cunt, pleading for release. His big hands encase your hips, digging into the rucked up material of your black skirt - he's a lot bigger than you, could overpower you and force you to stop if he wanted, but you're willing to bet he knows the repercussions of that.
You halt your bouncing to grind against him, your hips swinging back and forth so that his pubes catch and drag on your clit, setting your body alight, "Funny, how you can be such a cocky prick around all your friends but I get you like this in private," You laugh, it's dirty, and he fucks up into you from below, you feel his balls tightening up under the curve of your ass, "If you come, I'm gonna ride your soft dick until you cry."
Steve throws his head back, neck bared, veins bulging out as he strains, fights with himself not to come, because he wants to be good, "I'll be good, fuck, baby. I'll be so good, promise."
Your black talon nails rake up and down the expanse of Steve's hairy chest, digging in harsh enough to leave marks and he mewls under you in return. You rise up onto the balls of your feet, using the leverage to begin bouncing again, tight pussy clenching around him.
You'll never get over how full Steve makes you feel, like he's rearranging your guts with every harsh thrust. He's cocky, arrogant, and has every right to be, truly. He's mean to you in school, in front of his meat head friends, and you let him be. Because when you fuck him in the privacy of your home, away from prying eyes, he knows who's really in charge, and it sure as fuck isn't him.
The relentless abuse on your spongey spot has your cunt gushing with slick, unable to stop it, and your demeanor is faltering slightly, tummy coiling with a need to come. You throw your head back with a moan, crying out as Steve's big hands come up to cup and grope at your tits, thumbs flicking over your pierced, hardened nipples.
"God, I'm almost there, just hold off," You moan, the wet sounds of your pussy echoing in the room, the slap of your skin against his making you shiver. Steve is a mess, hands squeezing your skin everywhere he can, hips canting up off the bed to meet your riding, his eyes glazed over as he looks up at you in awe.
His face begins flushing a deep red, and you know that look, he's about to come and it's too late to stop it, "You're so wet, m'sorry, fuck, fuck!" He grips onto your waist, fingertips digging into your soft belly as he forces you down onto his cock, practically impaling you, and he comes, slicking your walls with his release.
You don't even give him time to come down, seething noticeably as you grab a tight hold of his hands on you, ripping them away, "What'd I fucking tell you? Can't just be a good boy, huh?"
"M'sorry, baby. So sorry," Steve's groaning, still reeling from his orgasm. You don't give him any time to recover, beginning your bouncing again before he can go fully soft, "Wha - what are you doing, fuck."
"Taking what I want from your spent dick," You shrug, clamping down your walls onto his milked cock until he's choking out a sob, burying his head in the pillow, "I told you if you came before I said so I'd ride you until you cried, so."
It doesn't take much for his abused cock to kick up in interest again, but you can tell he's struggling with the overstimulation on the sensitive head, you laugh in return - dirty and mean and his cock pulses inside of you at the sound, the look on your pretty face.
Your eyeliner is running now, dark lipstick smeared, and you're so pretty even when you're being fucking evil. Steve's eyes glance between your face and where his cock sinks in and out of you, his come spilling out with every slide off of his length.
"Who does this cock belong to?" You ask, snapping him from his trance, and he looks at you like he's stupid or something, like he can't understand a word coming from your mouth. Your eyes narrow, "Answer me, Steve."
Steve almost folds at his name escaping your pretty, plump lips, "You, honey. It belongs to you, shit."
"You can tell all your little bitches in the locker room that, then," You smirk, though you're choked off when a moan is pulled from you, nails digging into Steve's toned belly as your gut begins to wind tight, the constant abuse of his tip on your g-spot sending you spiraling, "I'm gonna come, Steve."
Steve takes the opportunity to knock your feet out from under you with his hands, having you falling back down onto your knees and going pliant. He grins up at you, snaking his arms behind your back, knees drawing up for leverage so he can fuck you from below.
His hips piston into yours, fast enough to have you moaning and crying out into the room, your soaked cunt leaking all down his balls and pooling in a mess beneath you. You give up the ghost then, falling into him so you're chest to chest, your face buried in his neck.
"Steve, Steve, ah-!" You wail, coil in your tummy snapping as you come, clenching sporadically around his thick cock. You're out of breath, feeling like you've been winded, and he just keeps going, fucking into you and hands crushing you, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises.
"Perfect little pussy, clenching me so tight, fuck, baby," Steve groans, his hips faltering as he nears the edge, "Gonna come in you again, so you've gotta go out of here leaking."
You whine, unable to say anything witty in return, just clenching down on him again, and his hips still, cock pulsing in you as he comes with a soft grunt.
This power play would never be over, you know that as well as he does. But, fuck, the sex and the way he wrapped you up in his arms like a fragile little thing afterwards really made up for it.
iâll never shut up about this fic and i probably embarrass @sweetsweetjellybean by doing so buuut? itâs literally my favorite.
Series Masterlist
Eddie Munson/ FemReader Steve Harrington/FemReader 18+ Minors get the hose.
Can you have two great loves in a lifetime?
You've had the ideal childhood in Hawkins with your best friend & protector Steve Harrington. When it's ripped away, can you pick up the pieces? Eddie Munson may be able to help.
A story about the pain of growing up, unrequited love, and loss.Â
Complete series
Total word count: 26,949
Eddie Munson x Reader
The gate at the bottom of Loverâs Lake was meant to spit the quartet out in the Upside Down. Steve, Nancy, and Robin were meant to be there. He wasnât meant to be alone. But when Eddie comes to on the shoreline, youâre there. Itâs not the Upside Down. Itâs not Loverâs Lake. Itâs not 1986.
Warnings: Depictions of drowning; drug use; reference to mental illness - very light; mentions of the cult/murder shit that went down in '86; very mild smut; discussion of being queer in the 80s; reference to canon typical violence; grief; cemetery setting; bad understanding of Indiana geography; reference to parental child abuse (non-sexual)
Chapters
1: Lover's Lake, 1584 words
The beginning.
2: Hey, Siri, 3794 words
Hey, Siri, play Should I Stay or Should I Go?
3: World Wide Web, 3351 words
Two questions. First question: is Eddie cool now? Second question: where are they now?
4: Cemetery Drive, 3427 words
Ăowyn is no man and Eddie looks for Wayne.
5: Red Bull, 3694 words
Itâs not Friday but youâre in love.
6: Operation '86, 4519 words
Welcome back to Hawkins, old friends. Get out your whiteboards and red string. Keep a look out for the âExit 2022â sign. Buckle up, because this is the penultimate chapter.
7: A Hellfire Homecoming, 6594 words
All good things must come to an end.
⥠ziggy, 31, she/her, your cool older sister, writer, âď¸ , mashed potato enthusiast, i like to laugh..a lot. dm or slide into my ask box I love chatting and simping over the hot boys (eddie, steve, argyleâ occasionally jonathan and billy, + always hopper) of Hawkins
⥠this is an 18+ only blog, minors will be banished by the power of 3
⥠latest works blurbs: loveâs never meant much to me
cold shower 18+
the raven told me of you 18+
⥠latest works series: open arms 18+
⥠popular works (series): honey iâm home (roommate!eddie) 18+
requests: closed
asks: open
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i do not give anyone permission to copy, steal or repost my works on any other platform. i do not give permission to put my work into AI systems of any kind. copyright @trashmouth-richie
LATEST WORK ÂˇË ŕź
OPEN ARMS: escaping Hawkins was impossible, but he did it. when a ghost from your past shows up unexpectedly, bringing with him old memories and holding up a mirror to the train wreck life youâre living⌠you find it hard to trust him again.
*new* HIDE + SCREAM : Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out whatâs going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the townâs spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?
LILITH : a series of blurbs about crazy!reader x crazy!eddie.
LIE TO ME: lovesick! Eddie *new!*
SERIES ÂˇË ŕź
TWINFLAMES : (ongoing) Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader âthe annngst, the smut, NO VECNA, itâs gonna be a ride (15/??) (on permanent hiatus)
HONEY, IâM HOME desperate for a roommate, you place an ad in the paper. Eddie x Fem!Reader (enemies to lovers, menace!Eddie )
DO YOU LIKE THE WAY THE WATER TASTES? a day at the pool with your best friend, his gf, and his best friend Eddieâ who has a crush on you.
HEATED taking the back roads to Indianapolis was Eddieâs idea. the day trip there was Steveâs. But when Wayneâs borrowed truck grinds to a halt on the hottest day in September, the tension and the boysâ tempers arenât the only thing to rise.
ONE SHOTS ÂˇË ŕź
FORTY THREE BELOW *new* blizzard au, reader is fighting a cold
COBBLER *new* blizzard storm with a crabby eddie
TWELVE HOURS *new* smutty 12 hours of bf! eddie worshipping you until christmas
DIFFERENCES *new* a blurb about the way Steve & Eddie fuck you
ITâS 3 AM *new!* [early early morning smut with Eddie]
LEAVE ME IN THE DARK *new* [eddie angst: before & after s4]
CONFESSION *new!* [smut] eddie x fem!reader
LANDLORD! MEAN! OLDER!EDDIE [smut]
SOMEONE LIKE YOU [steddie angst]
LETTING SOMEONE GO *new!* [angst]
RUN
HELLFIRE THANKSGIVING [smut]
BAD DATE CHRONICLES
PREP SCHOOL [smut]
WANTING YOU
AT THIS MOMENT, YOU MEAN EVERYTHING steve x reader smut
more fics under the cut
MINI SERIES ÂˇË ŕź
WEâRE THE LAST IN LINE [on Hiatus]
MINI MINI SERIES ÂˇË ŕź
TEASING
CHOKE ME, BITE ME
QUEEN OF THE DAMNED eddie x fem!reader { corruption kink }
ANSWERED ASKS ÂˇË ŕź
VALENTINEâS [fluff]
LITTLE MUNSON [fluff]
UNO
ICE ICE BABY
WHEELS ON THE BUS
KITCHEN SEX steve x fem!reader
DESSERT
FERAL + BREAD
GLASSES + LIGHTS
BEST FRIENDS
BILLY X EDDIE X YOU
ROOF SEX : Eddie x Fem! Reader
LETâS NOT KEEP SCORE *new* coach! steve x fem reader
Year: Sophomore | Sports: Varsity Volleyball, Cheer Squad | Clubs: National Honor Society, Student Council, French Club, Model UN | After School Activities: Meals on Wheels, Hawkins Presbyterian Youth Fellowship, Writing tutor
Jonathan Byers
THE LONE WOLF
Year: Junior | Sports: Cross-Country | Clubs: Photography Club, Newspaper, Yearbook | After School Activities: Photography, target shooting, making mixtapes
Steve Harrington
THE KING BEE
Year: Senior | Sports: Varsity basketball, Varsity baseball | Clubs: Student Council, Key Club, Future Business Leaders of America, Prom Committee | After School Activities: hanging out with my girlfriend, partying (keg stand champion)
Barb Holland
THE WALLFLOWER
Year: Sophomore | Sports: Varsity Softball | Clubs: Class Treasurer, Marching Band (first clarinet), National Honor Society, Key Club, Mathletes | After School Activities: Rotary Youth Exchange, Hawkins Community Library volunteer, babysitting
a multi chapter mini seriesâ based on thoroughfare by ethel cain
listen here (apple music) + here (spotify)
summary: jumping into his truck at seventeen, eddie takes a journey in hopes to find love. years pass with no such luck, along the way he stumbles across you, a timid drifter who reluctantly agrees to join him, heading west. youâve never trusted men, but something in those kind, deep colored coffee eyes stirs up a feeling youâve never felt before. strangers to lovers trope, one bed trope.
triggers: 18+ smut
authorâs note: no upside down, eddie was raised by his mom and dad in florida and they were in love.
The wet shell of a sunflower seed stuck to the tip of your finger. Slicked with salted spit and the tart bite of cherry chapstick, you hung your hand out of the passenger window, waiting for the western wind to blow the husk from your finger.
His thumb rubs against the rough edges of the flint wheel of his zippo, the sweet tang of tobacco invading your nose as the flame sparks leaving a burning cherry on the white paper. A slight chap to his lips from too much sun yesterday at the motel pool in BullHead City, you had supposed. Still, you couldnât tear your eyes away from him. The only time you could was when his eyes caught yours, daring you to look away.
The way he stared at you with a smirk twisted on his mouth took every bit of breath from your lungs. Holding your gaze in a cozy embrace with the deep warmth of his russet colored eyes until you finally forced yours to break away and look out the window instead. Bottom lip bit between your lips as a growing heat travels over the apples of your cheeks.
If you would have looked back at him youâd have noticed the way he licked his lips as he watched you sigh as if you hadnât been breathing. Snapping another sunflower seed between your teeth before putting them on the crest of your lips to put them out of the windowâ he had your movements memorized. Each more tantalizing than the next.
Neither of you were able to deny the tension between you lately, letting it build and fester, aching for relief in the form of pleasure.
The last eight weeks had started to wear heavy on your chest, and you found yourself daydreaming about the beginning of this adventure, like a record on an endless spin to your favorite song.
Not a single radio station would come in wherever the hell it was in Texas he was right now. With every crank of the tuning dial, only the agonizing noise of static strained through the speakers to keep him company as he drove along this highway that never seemed to end.
He cursed himself for not buying a map at the gas station he filled the truck up at this morning. His gut instinct usually guided him on which roads to take, and today was no different. Only today felt like he was pulled by something else, something deeper within himself.
The sky was a mix of cyan and cotton clouds, already hot for May, he was just about to give up on the radio before he popped over a hill and an oldies station came in clear as could be. And something else came into view, plenty far away yet.
Hot wind whipped at your shirt, providing next to nothing for comfort as you trudged along the broken asphalt. You now understood why this place was called the Lone Star State, because you havenât seen a damn soul in miles. For today, you didnât mind the loneliness. Leaving home, years ago, you didnât have a destination in mind, only the knowledge that you needed to get the hell out.
Whatever highway you were on looked to be deserted. As if the state built a multi-laned monstrosity elsewhere and gave up on this slow, lonely stretch, leaving it to the elements. Prairie grass poked through the splintered road, tumbleweeds swayed in the ditches, collecting and tangling as one like a tawny bundle of barbed wire.
Looking behind you, a vehicle showed in the distance like a wavy mirage in the desert. You had half a thought to stick your thumb out and catch a ride to the nearest bus station, but when the vehicle got closer your conscience took over, and anxiety thumped in your chest.
Please donât stop, please please.
The engine hummed to a lower gear, and you automatically put a hand on the pistol at your waistband. Moving further over to the side of the road where whoever was driving could see that you werenât interested in their good deed, you kept your head down and kept walking.
Tires slowed and you went into a small panic, wishing you had something sharp to hold between your fingers, but the barren highway offered no such vice.
You heard faint music as the vehicle got closer, crawling almost to a stop as you quickened your steps hoping they would just keep going and leave you be.
âPretty hot out today⌠need a lift?â
The voice felt like velvet on your skin, a warmth youâd never known. Endearingly charming, no southern twang like someone from Texas would have. You ignored him, letting the crunch of gravel on your worn boots answer instead.
You had never been given the luxury to trust someone, and youâd be damned if you were gonna start today with some stranger on the side of the road. Heart rate kicking up, you all but bolted to avoid him.
âBaby donât run, Iâll take you anywhere,â his drawl wrapped around you like a vice, soft and pillowy, and finally your curiosity got the better of you, as you came to a halt. You wanted to look this asshole in the eyes and flash him the pistol you kept, maybe fire a warning shot over the hood of his truck so heâd get the message. That no, in fact you did not need a ride, not from him.
Stopping so his passenger window lined up with you in the center you eyed the only other beating heart on the side of the road.
His hair was past his shoulders, brown and wavy, more than likely frizzy in high humidity. Eyes that were shaped like Bambiâs colored like a bottomless cup of coffee without creamer. His nose sat with a fading sunburn painting along his cheeks, each dwelling a poked dimple in the center. And you swore the key to Heaven was buried in his smile.
When he spoke it was clear that his intentions werenât to cause you any harm. Minutes ticked by as he waited for your answer.
âHey, do you wanna see the West with me?â
It was a simple question asked from the quirked mouth of a guy youâd never met before, you would have remembered those eyes in any setting. He leaned an elbow out his window as he threw the truck in park, twisting in his seat to face you a little more. A cigarette dangling from his large hand.
The butter colored sun shone against his caramel curls like a breakfast roll full of sticky sugar, the same light changing his eyes into a whiskey auburn.
He was a complete stranger, but what was even stranger was your one word answer that spread that million dollar grin further onto his face than you thought humanly possible.
You moved your hand from that handle of the gun in your tattered jeans, bearing more holes than actual threads of denim. It was meant for situations just like this, and you had nabbed it from your dad right before you walked out the front door for the very last time.
Instinct told you to run, but something in those dark eyes brought you a wave of calm, whispering out as if youâd known him for years. Your boots had already blistered your heels from walking this far, so what the hell?
Pressing a thumb into the release of the door handle, you swung yourself and your knitted bag into the moth-bitten navajo rug that covered the seat.
His smile didnât fade, never so much as creased into a frown as he waited for you to get situated. Before he put his truck into drive he explained where he was going.
He was making the grand gesture of looking for love like the kind he grew up watching with his own mom and dad. Explaining that love like that was out there waiting for him, and he was determined to find it, no matter the distance.
Suspicion jumped to your brow, and you tried to stifle the scowl on your lip. âWhat?â he chirped, a little twist to his lips, âdonât believe in stuff like that?â
This bastard clearly didnât know heartache the way you were practically related to it. You sigh lazily before looking over at him. Trying not to break his dreams before he even had the chance to realize what a waste of time it was, you simply murmur, âhoney, loveâs never meant much to me, but Iâll come with you if youâre sure thatâs what you need.â
After years of living and growing without being loved, it had become almost useless, something heard in songs or read in books, surely it wasnât real. But hell, youâd humor this man whose smile danced like a western sunset against a salty ocean breeze, what was the worst that could happen?
A large calloused hand reached across the cab of the truck, and you shook it with a small grin as his voice rubbed like silk across your soul, âIâm Eddie.â
And so it began, the journey to find a love daring to be something greater than anything heâd ever known, hell bent and determined it was out there, wherever that may be.
He had asked about your life. Never pushing when your answers were too short, or ended the conversation entirely. Letting you have your space, he built a trust between the two of you that you werenât sure about at first.
The roads were desolate, and you couldnât imagine walking along them alone. You thanked whoever cared that your thoroughfare crossed into his, almost as if destiny had placed you there. Knowing you needed a friend after leaving the only thing youâd ever known and not having a single soul to rely on.
But as time went by, you realized just how much you could rely on him.
That first day, he drove until the windshield bled to ink. Stars dotted across the sky once the sun went to rest, and he encouraged you to follow suit, pulling a hooded sweatshirt from behind his seat and tossing it towards you. Your hesitation told him all he needed to know, that the uncertainty of him was rooted deep. Too deep for you to let your guard down around him.
That pearl handle poked out from your hip and his kind eyes met the scared look in yours. He rubs his lips together before he speaks calmly, âyou uhm,â he looks over at you to show how serious this was to him, even if you couldnât see it in the dark, âyou donât have to worry about using that with me⌠Iâm not that kind of guy.â
His innocence spoke through his eyes in words he hadnât said, showing you that he wasnât lying, that you could trust him. You took a deep breath, wondering if you were insane for feeling comfortable with a guy you just met, but it wasnât long before you whisper, âokay.â
When you snuck a peek over at him, his face was lit by the dim lights of the dash, a smirk nestled on his lips, cheeks welled with the deepest dimples youâd ever seen, and your shoulders eased for the first time since hopping in.
Neither of you spoke for the rest of the night. Your head resting on the window, his sweatshirt rolled under your neck as you fell into a sleep so tender and warm you felt like a baby being lulled to bed as he sang along to the radio.
The heat from the window warmed your cheek when you woke, leaving a less than glamourous mark. Letting out an embarrassingly long yawn, you stretch your arms above your head, feeling your back crack into submission.
âShit, âm sorry, how long did I sleep?â you ask, covering your mouth again from another yawn.
Eddie smiled tiredly, his hair was wrapped into a bun at the base of his neck, sunglasses topping his nose, pushing up from his cheeks as he grins, âdonât apologize for sleeping when youâre tired,â he said, shrugging, âbesides, you probably wouldâve woken up if I crashed.â
A chuckle hits your dry throat and you cough, âwhere are we?â
âStill in Texas believe it or not,â he groans, turning it into a long yawn, holding a hand to his mouth, swallowing a bit, âI hoped we couldâve made it to New Mexico before I pulled over but Iâm starting to think that ainât gonna happen.â
You figured he would have stopped to sleep at some point in the night, even if it was just for a few hours. Guilt throttled you at the thought of him staying up while you were asleep. âI can drive while you take a nap.â
âNah,â he says with a lazy smile, looking over at you, ânot that I care if you drive my truck or not, I just think we could both use some decent sleep, watch a little tv, eat, plus⌠I need a shower.â
Taking a whoreâs bath in the gas station sinks had kept you clean, but you almost cried outright at the thought of water, cold or hot you couldnât care less, running down the length of your body. But the lack of money burning in your pocket stopped that dream in its tracks.
You had a couple hundred bucks left after selling off your car before leaving home. The cost efficient option would be to drive while he slept. âItâs really not a big deal, I promise Iâm a good driver.â
The charm you tried to emanate when pulling out your license to show him that you indeed werenât lying, fell flat as Eddie waved you off, âdeodorant only lasts so long before weâll have to ride with our heads outta the window.â
He laughs in your place as you stare out of the windshield, mind racing over the trouble of being able to afford a motel room.
âCâmon,â he smirks, that same lazy smile stretched on his face, you wondered if he ever got mad. âWe survived almost a whole day together, if I was gonna rob you I wouldâve done it already.â
âItâs not that,â you say, picking at your nails, fighting the urge to bite them to shreds, âI wasnât walking because I wanted tooâŚâ
Wheels turn in a tired mind as Eddie nearly chokes when he realizes what you meant.
âDonât worry about it,â he confirms, brushing you off as if it wasnât a big deal that youâd be bunking with him for free, and when your facial expressions didnât change, he lowered his voice, and took off his sunglasses, âseriously sweets, youâre doing me a favor keeping me company, âm not gonna make you pay for a trip you didnât plan, okay?â
You sighed, and shook your head yes.
The nearest motel was a hole in the wall type of place. Adhering to the kind of people that either paid by the hour or stayed for weeks at a time. The perk being it was next to a gas station where you refused to let Eddie pay for the armful of snacks he had carried to the counter. Including two hotdogs that you couldnât be bothered wondering how long theyâd been spinning in the warmer.
His boots clunked against the sidewalk as he jumped from the bed of the pickup hauling his duffle bag over his shoulder, the hotel keys wrapped around his forefinger. Outside of you both relieving yourselves on the empty shoulder of the highway last night, this was the first time youâd seen just how tall he was.
He squints in the sun and cocks his head, âbet you a dollar the carpet is orange.â
Room 8 consisted of two full sized beds, a lamp between the two, an arm chair and a small television. A stiff neon brochure for adult channels lay next to the remote, and you scrunched your nose as Eddie pushed it to the floor with the heel of his boot.
Laying out the snacks neatly on the table, you hand him the other hot dog, licking a drop of mustard from your palm. He thanked you, and took a bite consuming almost half of it before dropping onto the bed closest to the door, laying flat on his back.
Having four walls around you gave you a sense of peace you hadnât been expecting. Slipping off your shoes you wiggled your bare toes and sat on the bed facing away from him, rolling your socks into one another.
âHowâs the hotdog?â you asked over your shoulder, moving your bag between the side of your bed and the wall for the bathroom.
A muffled sound comes from the other side of the room as he shovels another bite in, ârubbery, but not too bad for having been made at midnight.â
You snort and swing your legs into the bed. Grabbing the hotdog from the comforter and peeling back the white paper around it, taking a small bite. It was warm, and tasted a hell of a lot better than the moldy ham sandwich you ate yesterday. A satisfied hum leaves your mouth and you giggle.
âHotdogs for breakfast⌠donât think Iâve ever had this before.â You laugh again before taking another bite of the squishy snack. Eddie looks up as he chews the remaining bite, realizing this was the first time heâd ever heard you laugh loud enough for him to hear, what a beautiful sound.
âStick with me, weâll have breakfast for dinner, too,â his tongue pokes out to lick a smear of ketchup from the corner of his lip, and he yawns loud and proud.
You cross your feet beneath your legs, a content little smile on your face. âDo I still owe you a dollar if the carpet is also brown and green?â
Your combined laughter echoes across the wood paneling and the pictures of dogs playing poker. The two of you joke about the severely dated room, agreeing that this was probably the place to stay in its prime. But the sheets were clean and thatâs about all you could ask for at this point.
Eddieâs eyes were nearly closed as he scrubs large hands down his face, his voice strained, âmind if I shower âfore I fall asleep?â
âNot at all,â you say, jumping from the bed and looking through the snacks to find the licorice, âtake all the time you need.â
He tosses the remote to your bed and unzips his bag, pulling out a toothbrush and a clean pair of boxer briefs, a minute passes and he scratches his head before diving back into the bag, yanking out a folded pair of sweatpants.
Sighing as he peels off his boots, he walks to the bathroom door and before shutting it, he pokes his head back out, a curious little grin on his lips as he asks earnestly, âyouâre not gonna run away, are you?â
You swallow the bite of licorice and smile back, âthink youâre stuck with me, if thatâs cool with you?â
His grin broadens to a cheshire smile and he says he wonât be long, promising to save some hot water.
Neither of you can quit the grin on your lips until the door unlocks, and Eddie mutters âcool,â to himself before leaving the steamed bathroom.
Diners with smudge stained windows and siding that was warped from the sun's rays, came few and far between on those lone, dust covered roads. Eddie had pulled into almost every one. âNever know when the next one will pop up, sweetheart,â he smirked, sending a wink your way that had your stomach fluttering.
Each menu, although stickier at some places than others, was relatively the same. Eggs, Bacon, Toast. Waffles at the fancier joints or maybe a bowl of fruit alongside a flapjack.
He watched you intently as your eyes scanned the menu, keeping his promise of having breakfast for supper a few week into your trip. His own stomach had been grumbling since you packed up from the last motel somewhere on the border of Oklahoma and New Mexico. A wrong turn near McCamey had taken you North to Amarillo, three hundred miles in the completely opposite direction.
Instead of screaming about the wasted fuel, Eddie had only shrugged. He was excited to cross into the panhandle, and to make a check along the list of states youâd scribbled onto a napkin a few days into the trip to cross off as you came through them.
That quiet, suspicious drifter he had picked up three weeks ago seemed to blossom with life the more he peeled back the bricks that you had surrounded yourself with. But Eddie was charismatic, easy to talk to, and you found yourself deep in the throes of explaining things to him you havenât talked about in years.
When your cheeks would heat and embarrassment creeped up your neck, you apologized for talking too much. He only shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he said that he didnât mind, he wanted to know more.
The waitress strolled back over with a cigarette hanging from her lip, a gray ash practically a mile thick on it as she grumbled about the specials and set glasses of water on the tableâice already melted besides a sliver of a stubborn cube.
âIâll take a cup of coffee,â he charmed, folding the menu placing his hands on top of it, âtwo eggs hard fried, a couple of sausage patties and wheat toast, also one of those slices of lemon meringue pie I saw in the display window.â
Without so much as a grunt, the waitress lifted her eyes to look you over. Setting down the vinyl menu, you place your order and lick your lips at the thought of the homemade lard crust on the rhubarb pie.
Looking out the window to the dry landscape, you sigh with a breath of content. You had never been this far west before, never been anywhere really besides the small town you grew up in.
Two coffees sit in front of each of you and Eddie thanks the waitress, a dimpled grin on his cheeks as he opens a packet of sugar. Warm eyes look at you as he stirs the coffee into a swirl, âNothing like home, huh?â
A smile presses to your lips and you sip the bitter liquid, chipped porcelain against your front teeth, âdefinitely not, the air is dry here.â
âYeah,â he agrees, slipping the spoon into his mouth to clean the coffee up, taking a big gulp of the burntâ probably microwavedâ concoction, âit is, but thatâs the beauty in the journey, exploring different places, meeting new people.â
He tucks a curl behind his ear, a tiny silver hoop in his lobe, you hadnât noticed before and you ask, âyou keen on picking up strangers on the side of the road?â
A laugh bubbles from his throat, and he smiles big showing all of his teeth, âin all the years Iâve been on the road, I never have, not until you,â he takes a sip of his coffee, a pretty blush rides on his cheeks, âguess I havenât run out of luck just yet.â
You hide your own smile, itching your nose, âhow long has it been?â
Eddie thinks for a minute, âwell, I left Florida when I was seventeen..,â he adds up the years on his fingers with this thumb moving to each one, â⌠shit,â he says with a smirk, âalmost nine years now.â
He was older, not by much, but you had both left at a younger age. Calling the open road and warm air home for years. Living like a Steve Earle song sporting a two pack habit and a motel tan, it seemed like fate put you on the same road that he was traveling that day.
But you push that thought away, Eddie was looking for love, and you were just tagging along like a pet, a friend at best.
âDo you ever miss it?â
He stretches himself across the booth, arms on the back of the peeling seat, pearl snaps straining against the denim from the broadness of his chest, and you find it hard not to look, âNah, Iâll go back someday, me and my girl.â
That flutter happens again in your stomach and you feel almost nauseous at how infectious his smile is.
You spend the rest of dinner that way, trying to shove down a grin with each bite of breakfast food as the sun fell behind the mountains. Letting the butterflies swarm, with each time he looked into your eyes.
Not knowing that Eddie was also slowing losing his own battles, leaving with something more in his stomach that was sweeter the stiff meringue on that damn lemon pie.