bludhavents - Tumblr blog

bludhavents · 2 years

Text

Easy to Love

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: Your lazy afternoon with Steve is apparently everyone else's favorite time to come over unannounced.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: 18+ please!! smut, fluff, getting interrupted, soft!steve, established relationship, loosely proofread lol sorry!!!

You were laying in bed with Steve, the afternoon sun shining through the window while the both of you stayed under the covers.

He pressed lazy kisses to your mouth, sighing into you as your hands reached to comb through his hair. You smiled into the kiss, trying to work your way impossibly closer to him. He helped, snaking his hand around your torso and pulling you flush against his stomach. His lips left yours and moved to press the same sloppy kisses to your jaw. Your free hand worked its way to his back, eliciting a purr from him when you lightly raked your fingers across his shoulders, but the moment was interrupted all too soon when the sound of his doorbell echoed through the house.

He paused his work, but only for a moment before continuing down onto your neck. You melted at his touch, reveling in the love that he showed you with such ease. Three more kisses, one, two, three and there was a pounding on the door that made you jump. Steve didn't stop this time, though. He pulled you back to him and pressed a hot kiss to your mouth, swallowing your surprised gasp as he made you forget all about the unwanted visitor.

"Steve Harrington! Open the door right this instant!" A voice called from the front yard, and soon enough pebbles were being thrown at his window. You huffed, rolling away from Steve so that he would finally go answer the door.

"You get it." Steve groaned, burying his face into his pillow. "Fucking Henderson always ruins everything."

"Steve, this is your house, I'm not answering the door." You put your hand on the side of his face, turning it so that he was looking at you. A smile rose to his lips despite himself. He tried to wash it away, but it was useless.

"You're so pretty."

"Thank you, baby," you said, suddenly feeling shy. "Now go tell your son to leave us alone. The sooner he goes away, the sooner you get to come back to me, Steve. Remember that."

"Just come with me," he whined, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of bed with him. The both of you walked down to the front door, Steve opening it to reveal a screaming Dustin on the front lawn. He was about to throw a full-sized rock at the window. "Dude!" Steve warned him.

Dustin whipped around to face the door, feeling enraged at the sight of Steve's hand splayed across your stomach, pulling you into him as he waited for Dustin to explain what was going on. He marched up to the door and let himself in, shoving past the both of you.

"Hey, man," Steve tried to deescalate the situation. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to talk to my friend." His glare shot daggers into your eyes. Dustin wasn't talking any louder than normal, but you could tell something was wrong. You gave him a sorry smile before quietly making your way back up to Steve's room. It didn't hurt your feelings that he said that. Not at all. Usually when Dustin came over, it was to ask Steve for a ride or to accompany him on a quest to kill the latest interdimensional problem in Hawkins. Never was it limited to Steve only. If there was even a thought in your mind that he was here for such a serious reason, you never would've gone to the door in the first place. You shook the guilt from your head--there was no way either of you could've known. Your hands found the remote and you turned on the TV, cranking the volume a little louder than normal to ensure Dustin felt comfortable speaking with Steve in confidentiality.

"What's going on?" Steve took a seat on his couch, knowing Dustin would choose to pace the length of the living room.

"I like this girl. But I think she likes Lucas."

"Seriously, Henderson?" Steve couldn't help the inflection in his voice. "You were all mean to Y/n just to tell me about some girl?"

"It's not just some girl!" Dustin shouted back, insisting on the urgency of his conversation. You heard Steve yell, then Dustin. It was hard to make out the words themselves, but you were confident that you heard your own name in there somewhere.

A few minutes passed before their footsteps came booming up the stairs and Dustin and Steve crashed into the room. You looked at them with raised eyebrows and laughed as they both flopped onto the bed next to you, cursing at each other as Dustin's knee smacked Steve somewhere in the mix.

"Okay, so," Dustin started once he was settled next to you, laying flat on his back and staring at the ceiling. Steve was in between your legs, head resting on your stomach and arms wrapped around your waist. You absentmindedly played with his hair while Dustin talked. "I like this girl, her name is Max. And at first she was all like get away from me, you guys are stalkers, but now she's our friend, which is great--and she's great, but I'm pretty sure she's like in love with Lucas. And not me."

"Does Lucas like her?" You asked, tiptoeing around the subject carefully, trying to find your footing before giving him any sort of advice.

"Yeah, we both do."

"Why?" Both boys turned their heads to look at you. The expression on Steve's face was copied and pasted onto Dustin's and in that moment you could've sworn that they were legitimately father and son. It kinda freaked you out.

"What the fuck do you mean, why?" Dustin asked.

"Well Max has captured the hearts of two of Hawkins Middle School's finest bachelors," you said. "There's got to be a reason why. I've never heard you talk about a girl before, what makes Max different from the rest?"

The room was quiet for a long moment as Dustin thought. You opened your mouth to try and explain that you weren't trying to talk him out of this crush, or make Max seem less special. You genuinely were trying to figure out what made her so special and how he could use that to his advantage. Steve interrupted before you could continue, though.

"Like, I know with Y/n, me and the rest of the school loved her because she was gorgeous," Steve stressed. "You knew that, but like. Once we saw her, everybody tried to get to know her, and once they started, they couldn't stop. I found out from just one semester of sitting next to her in geometry that she was smart- she failed every damn geometry test, but that was just ‘cause she was writing these beautiful, sophisticated English papers. A-and she was so funny- I used to skip every class other than that one on my bad days, cause I knew she'd cheer me up. Of course, she was even prettier up close- her lips, her eyes, her cheeks and her nose just all go together so cohesively, like she was made to be preserved in marble and god I am just so lucky to get to spend time with her. She's also so, so very kind- when the girl in front of us called Eddie Munson a freak, she went over to comfort him and was just being so sweet, and now that I think about it holy shit she was totally flirting with him right in front of me!"

Dustin erupted into a fit of giggles, tears falling from his eyes as he squealed. Your face turned red, and you were so ready to defend yourself, but came up with nothing. Not only were you flirting with Eddie at that moment, you were dating him. You'd been dating him through the entirety of your high school career, which is why you never thought of Steve until after the break up.

"You're not even going to defend yourself?" Steve exclaimed, lifting his head up from your stomach and bringing himself to eye-level. Of course he knew that you were dating Eddie. He didn't at the moment, but he found out eventually. This right now was all to make Dustin feel better.

"Steve!" You shrieked as he threw himself on top of you, squishing you into the pillows as you laughed hard. "Dustin! Help!" Your giggling protests went unheard by Dustin, who instead decided to get on top of Steve, weighing you down even more. He was laughing like a maniac. You could feel his body shaking and it sent you into even more laughter. "I thought we were friends," you accused Dustin.

"I'm team Steve!"

"Me too!" You defended, Steve's breath tickling your neck. He pressed three chaste kisses to the skin before standing up, grabbing onto Dustin and throwing him back on the bed.

"Be right back," he breathed out as he left the room, leaving Dustin and you still giggling on his bed.

"Max is cool," Dustin answered after he finally calmed down. "She's way better than us at video games and she skates. She seems like the kind of girl who likes bugs. She liked Dart."

"The kind of girl who likes bugs," you repeated, leaning against the headboard. "That's special, Dustin."

"I know! But, she likes him. And not me. And I want her to like me."

"I know," you replied sadly. "How 'bout this. Let's give it a week, okay? You compliment the shoes she's wearing, or ask about her skateboard. Then, ask her to go to the arcade one day. If she says yes, then I think she's probably interested. If she says no, then she's probably not interested. And just because she's not interested doesn't mean you're not interesting, Dustin. I'm perfect, but you're not in love with me!" He chuckled. "I'm just saying--people all have different preferences. She may not want to go on a date, but maybe she'll want to be friends. And if you don't want to be friends, that's totally okay too."

"It sucks that she likes Lucas, though. Now I have to see them together in the hallways and stuff and it just doesn't feel good. I don't know why she picked him." His voice broke your heart. You saw Steve at the door, watching with gentle eyes as Dustin opened up to you. He stayed at the door, not stepping over the threshold.

"Dustin," you cooed, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It is hard. I know it is, and I'm sorry. But it has nothing to do with who you are. You are smart and funny and brave, and Lucas is all of those things, too! Maybe Max is going to be Lucas' girl. And in the future, you'll have someone, too. I promise, I know lots of bug-loving ladies on the market right now."

"Use this for good luck." Steve entered the room and put his old Scoops Ahoy sailor's hat on Dustin, who squirmed out of his reach. "Dude, the power of this thing is no joke. It's why Y/n let me be her boyfriend."

"That is so not true." You insisted, but allowed Steve to engulf you in his arms as he took a seat next to you. His chin rested on top of your hair as you positioned yourself between his legs, leaning your back against his chest.

"Why are you dating Steve?" Dustin questioned abruptly. The question had you stifling a laugh, and you felt Steve's own smile in your hair.

"Because he let me." Who wouldn't want to date Steve?

"Bullshit! You're way out of his league!" Dustin shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

"No, no, no," you said seriously. "This guy is the most handsome man I've ever seen. And he's so funny, which you already knew of course. And kind. One time, my feet were hurting when we were on one of our very first dates, and Steve gave me the shoes off of his feet. He literally sat down on the curb, took his shoes off, took my heels off, put his shoes on my feet, and then carried my heels while he walked in socks the rest of the night. Also, I don't know how much it'll make sense to you, but Steve is the easiest person in the world to love. He puts in so much work, so much time and energy into making sure that I'm happy. And he lets me love him, he lets me make him late to work because I just wanna keep hanging out with him. He lets me hug him for as long as I need to, anytime. And he just loves so naturally. Like he was Romeo in another life or something. I was just made for loving Steve Harrington. He is a very good man and you are very lucky to have such a happy couple as your parents, young man."

You had to add the joke at the end, because you could feel your throat getting tighter. Could feel Steve's smile fall in your hair. Sure, you both loved each other, and you told each other every single day. But you never told him that much. Never told him he was easy to love or that you were made for loving him. Dustin giggled, leaping off of the bed.

"Anyone have the time? I gotta be home for lunch at 2. With my real mother," he joked, earning a chuckle from you. You wondered if he noticed that Steve hadn't shown his face since your speech. You'd certainly noticed, and selfishly wished he would leave so you could check in with your man.

"1:50." You answered, watching Dustin scramble out of the door and pound down the stairs, slamming the front door on his way out. As soon as you heard the door shut, you turned to face Steve, grabbing his neck gently and trying to get him to show his face. It took a moment of holding him before he finally did, pulling away to reveal the small tears rolling down his face.

"Steve." You lurched forward, pulling him into a tight hug. You leaned all the way onto your back, tugging him with you so that he laid pressed against your chest, head in your shoulder. His arms were wrapped so tightly around you that you grew concerned, not for yourself but for him. You pressed a soft, sweet kiss to the side of his face; The only part of his face that wasn't buried into your shirt.

"I really liked hearing you say all those things," he admitted, lifting his face out of hiding and immediately pulling you in for a kiss. It was passionate and quickly became rough, Steve propping himself on his elbows above you as your hands reached under the fabric of his shirt. His muscles clenched at your touch, bringing a cheeky smile to your lips. You pulled away from the kiss, pushing Steve off of you and onto his back. Quickly, you straddled his waist, leaning down to press another long kiss to his lips before going to the crick of his jaw, down the column of his throat, and to his collarbones. You grabbed the hem of his shirt, feeling his hips rock into you as your fingertips grazed the skin just below his waistband. His tears were dry, long forgotten as you pulled his shirt up and over his head, unable to resist when he grabbed you by the neck to bring your lips back to his.

You wrapped your hands around his wrists, guiding them to your shirt. He clued in quickly, barely parting from your lips as he quickly ripped it off of you, throwing it somewhere unimportant on his bedroom floor. His hands soon found your hair, long fingers dragging through it and making you sigh dreamily, certain you were in Heaven.

"So, so pretty." Steve praised between kisses, making you subconsciously press yourself into his lap harder. He moaned loudly, a sound that you greedily stole with a kiss, repeating your action again and making him break the kiss for air. "You do it so good. Were made for loving me. Me only, yeah?"

"You're the man of my dreams, Steve Harrington," you spoke, lips brushing against his with every word. "It's only you for me."

"Shit, I love you so fucking much," he groaned, grabbing your hips tightly and pushing his lips to your chest.

"I love you too," you huffed. "God, I need you so bad." You couldn't help but laugh pathetically at your words, embarrassed by how hot he was getting you just by kissing.

You'd been dating for three years and he still had this effect on you. Still made you all nervous and giddy. You felt his charming smile bloom as he continued to nip lovingly at the skin of your breasts. His hands wound behind you to undo the clasp of your bra, and just as he unbuckled it, you heard the front door open. You jumped off of him, falling on the floor with a hiss, one that Steve expertly covered by unmuting the TV. Your shirt was right next to you, and you threw it on before hopping back in bed, snuggling up to Steve's side and closing your eyes like you were asleep.

Of course the two of you were grown adults, you were allowed to stay over at your boyfriends house. But his parents insisted that all activities within their house kept a PG rating.

"We can walk in at any time. Don't do anything you wouldn't want us to see you doing." His mother's nasally voice told the both of you the first night that you stayed over all those years ago. And you respected her rules--it was her house, and she was gracious enough to let you stay the night on occasion. However, she was rarely ever home. It was always just Steve, and he always invited you over.

The handle on his door turned the wrong way first before complying and opening, revealing Mr. Harrington in the doorway. His eyes went straight to the two of you, Steve's hands behind his head and your head on his bare chest, pretending to be asleep. Your hands were tucked under the pillow.

"Dad? What're you doing back here? I thought you came back on Wednesday," Steve pretended to be caught off guard. You stirred in your 'sleep', shifting your head so that the left side of your face was against his chest now. He pretended to look at you with concern, leaning back to give your face a quick once-over before turning back to his father.

"Just stopping by to check-in. Your mother said you weren't answering her calls."

"Yeah, this morning I saw that the house had missed calls, but they were all from like 3am, I wasn't awake to answer them," Steve answered truthfully. "She never left a number to call back. Figured she'd call back during the day and I could answer."

"Well," his father sighed out. "Has Y/n been here all week? We oughta start charging her rent." He laughed heartily. You lifted your head slowly, blinking up at Steve who wasn't laughing along.

"Hmm?" You hummed in question. He smiled, genuinely taken aback by how beautiful you were.

"Nothin, dad's home, just checking in on everything."

"Oh, sorry," you apologized, sitting up completely and rubbing your eyes, fiending tiredness. "Good morning, Mr. Harrington. Nice to see you."

"It's 2:30 in the afternoon," Steve whispered in your ear. It sent shivers down your spine. His hand toyed with the waistband of your shorts under the covers. You knew he was doing it absentmindedly, but it drove you crazy.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry." You rubbed your hands across your face. "How was Cabo, Mr. Harrington? My father said to ask you all about it, he and his fiancé were thinking of honeymooning there. I told him I was sure you were probably there in some hotel meeting, what with all of your employees relying on you and everything, but he insisted I ask."

Lies, all lies.

"Well, you were right," he answered shortly. "No time for breaks when I've got the weight of the company on my shoulders, now is there? Tell your father to get a travel magazine if he's so inclined. I'd be willing to pay for the subscription if that's what is holding him back."

Steve coughed next to you, covering an annoyed sigh. His father always found a way to belittle you and your family to your face. You kept your smile though, instinctively leaning into Steve as you replied.

"I'll extend the offer, thank you Mr. Harrington," you spoke through the smile, gritted teeth squeaking against each other. "I apologize again for being asleep when you arrived. I didn't mean to come across rudely, I really do appreciate you letting me come over to spend time with Steve." Your hand moved to the inside of his thigh, comforter hiding the movement as you traced patterns down his skin while maintaining conversation with his father.

"Nonsense." He waved off, faking nonchalance. "It's always a pleasure to have you, Y/n. Steve's a better man for it. I better get going, but it was nice to see you both. Steven, answer your mother's calls, I don't care what time of night it is, hear me?"

Steve nodded next to you, visibly tensing. You pet his thigh, trying to get him to relax underneath you. His father didn't smile before turning around and exiting the room, leaving the door open behind him. You rolled your eyes, grabbing the TV remote from him and turning up the TV before setting it down and taking his face in your hands.

"The universe does not want us to have sex today," you whined. He cracked a smile, leaning in to press a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips.

"Well the universe isn't the one with your hand on its thigh." Steve leaned in for another kiss, groaning shortly as your hand traveled further up his leg. "He's probably still here, we gotta wait."

"We gotta be quiet," you corrected before pulling the comforter up again to cover both of your waists. Your hand went up Steve's groin, palming his dick through the thin material of his PJ pants. He froze, unable to keep himself from whimpering. You moved your hand, lacing your fingers with his before guiding them down to your own shorts, using your free hand to slip them off and guiding Steve's hand over your underwear. Your breath stuttered as he gently lowered his hand to rest over your clothed entrance. Immediately, you pulled him into a kiss, gripping his hair for life with one hand while the other grabbed him over his underwear, each of you groaning into the kiss at the feeling.

His hips rutted up into your hand, already-hard cock begging for your attention.

"You do to me what I do to you" he instructed, breaking away from the kiss. His fingers ghosted over you and you did the same to him, trailing your fingers ever so lightly down his length. Despite his instruction, you kissed him once on the shoulder. He was too pretty sitting beside you, hair tousled and eyes hooded.

"You'resopretty," you gushed, words slurring together at the feeling of his hand pressing down into you. You squealed, grabbing his wrist and forgetting all about his little game as you threw yourself onto him, straddling his waist and bruising his lips with your eager kiss. "Fuck, I need you so bad. I love you, Steve."

"Love you more, angel." His hands found your waist and held you closer to him. The distant sound of his garage door shutting sent him into overdrive, and he immediately began tearing your shirt back off, setting it on the comforter beside you before leaving hot kisses across your chest and shoulders. His fingers gripped the soft skin of your waist, carefully grinding you into him.

"Steve." There was no place where your hands felt perfect. His motions were more than overstimulating, and your body didn't know how to react. They went to his hair, his back, his face, his chest, and nothing was right. You needed him in a way that wasn't possible. You wanted to meld your bodies together and never separate.

"Is this okay for you?" He asked breathlessly, lips immediately resuming their kisses on your skin. Steve was vocal in bed, he always was, and he wanted the same from you. Craved that sensual reassurance even on the days when he was spitting in your mouth and fucking you senseless.

"Yeah," you answered. "More than okay. So good, Steve."

He hummed against your neck, and the vibrations were all-consuming. You felt them in your chest and fingertips. Involunatrily, your legs attempted to squeeze together at the motion, making him smile cockily and pull away from you. His hands remained on your skin, thumbs teasingly rubbing circles just under the waistband of your underwear.

"You look so pretty like this," he cooed, brushing your hair back from where it was stuck to your forehead with sweat. "A mess for me. I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?" You were panting on top of him, trying not to desperately rub yourself against him again to regain that pleasurable feeling. Steve only grinned up at you sweetly, pulling a bra strap back over your shoulder.

"You're just perfect all the time. Like you're all sweaty and out of breath right now, but it's fucking turning me on. How do you do that? If I weren't so confident the way you make me feel would scare me."

"Steve Harrington you are the love of my life. I hope I make you feel like that for the rest of eternity." Your hands cupped his face, running your thumbs across his flushed cheeks. "My handsome boy."

He kissed you then. A slow, passionate kiss that made a flame ignite in your stomach. His hands pulled at your underwear and you rolled off of him, reluctantly pulling away from the kiss and kicking your underwear off before attaching your lips to his again, though only for a second this time. Quickly, you made your way to his stomach, leaving sweet kisses down the skin until you reached his underwear, where you helped him tug them off.

"C'mere," he said, voice strained at the sight of your face so close to his cock. It would've been impossible for him to be any harder in that moment, but he swore he felt himself tighten even more. You listened, bringing your face back up to his. "You can't be doing all that. Too pretty, gonna make me cum before I get to feel you, angel."

In that moment, you'd never felt hotter. Heat was rushing throughout your body like crazy, seeing how desperate he was for you. Watching his eyes roam your body feverishly. You nodded, waiting for him to guide you on top. He did, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he helped lift you off of the mattress beside him and onto his dick, easing you down.

"F-fuck," he stuttered, hands tightening. Your breath hitched in your throat and your palms laid against his forearms for support. Once he was completely in, he wasted no time lifting you back up and down onto him again. A moan left your lips, and little red crescents marked his skin as you grabbed onto him harder. He kept his pace, aided by you bouncing with him, both of your sinful sounds filling the air of his room.

You threw your head back as his happy trail tickled your clit once more, but his hand was quick to wrap around the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at him.

"Talk to me baby, I'm almost there," he ordered, although his tone was soft. It drove you crazy, the way he talked to you like this.

"I'm about to--" Your head fell against his, and his name tumbled from your mouth repeatedly as you felt your walls clench around Steve's cock, pleasure filling your abdomen as you came all over him, breath uneven and legs shaking, but still working as Steve used you to chase his own orgasm.

He was grunting and groaning, sloppily thrusting himself into you and guiding you over him as he came inside of you, strings of praises and sweet nothings leaving his pretty mouth as he continued working. As soon as he pulled out, his cum leaked out of your entrance, earning a tortured groan from Steve at the sight. It was filthy, it was erotic, it was perfect. He brought your face to his and kissed you gently, pulling away to catch his breath.

"You get better every time," he whispered, lips brushing against yours as you breathed each other in.

"So do you. Always outdoing yourself," you replied lowly. "Fuck, that was so good, Steve."

"You were so good."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff

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bludhavents · 2 years

Text

Rest Easy Now

pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

summary: You end the toxic cycle of Steve using you to take care of him after he broke up with you.

word count: 1.1k

warnings/notes: toxic!steve, drunk!steve, angsty, break-up flashback, underage drinking, vomiting.

The New Years Eve party was packed. People were pressed up against each other in the small living room of whoever's house it was. Surely nobody knew, or cared. You squeezed through the crowd, dodging elbows and resisting the urge to squeeze your hands over your ears to drown out the sound of people shouting the lyrics to Madonna's Vogue. Somehow, the inebriated couple you were currently passing had found a way to make the upbeat pop song an excuse to eye-fuck while they slow danced. Gross.

It took almost five minutes of wading through the crowd to find Steve. Not because there were so many people, but because he was bouncing around from place to place, always coincidentally dodging your line of sight as he jumped and danced all over the place. When you finally spot him, it wasn't because he'd stood still long enough for you to catch him, but rather because he found you.

His arm immediately slung over your shoulder, weighing you down as his drunken self leaned a little too much on you for support.

"Hi!" Steve shouted over the music, voice hoarse from screaming to the music like he was at a concert. "What're ya doin' here? Thought you didn't like fun, hon." He giggled at the way his words rhymed.

"You called me and asked me to come get you, Steve," you reminded him.

There was no issue with him asking you for help, in fact you were happy to be the one that he trusted enough to call when he needed something. Except, the two of you had been broken up for three weeks now, and this was the seventh time he'd called you to pick him up since the break up. It was obvious that he'd driven himself into an unhealthy hole of coping with alcohol and partying, and you were wracked with guilt over the way he was treating himself. You knew it was because of the break up, that much was obvious.

But he was the one who had ended things. That's what made this whole situation so confusing and upsetting to you.

Steve Harrington, your lovey-dovey boyfriend and fiercely loyal best friend ended your year-long relationship out of the blue. He hadn't even slowly begun to pull away. He just--cut it off.

You climbed into his car on a Monday night. Hands cold and shivering, but stomach warm at the sight of Steve in the driver's seat with his pink lips and soft brown eyes looking as charming as ever. You leaned in to kiss him, and he turned his head, leaving you feeling a wave of rejection. There wasn't even time to process the action before his shaky voice spoke.

"Y/n, I don't want to do this anymore," Steve had said, not making eye contact. Your heart sank to your feet, brain suddenly unable to form a coherent thought.

"I--but." His eyes never left the steering wheel. "Steve."

"Don't do that," he muttered, voice breaking. "Just listen and leave, please."

It felt like the world stopped spinning under you. You nodded, opening the door to his car slowly before stepping out, back turned to him. A new weight made your legs heavy as you walked up your driveway. Your body didn't feel like yours anymore. It was hollow, but so heavy. Tears blurred your vision and you heard Steve drive off before you'd even gotten half way up the driveway.

The realization that Steve would never again chase you up your driveway, begging you to just hang out for five more minutes before you went inside for the night. To give him just one more kiss before you left. To call as soon as you get to your room.

And now, three weeks later, after you'd processed the break up and shed the original shock, Steve was still calling multiple times a week to beg you to pick him up from whoever's house it was that night. This time, it was Wednesday at 2am, six hours before you had to be at school. And here Steve was in the passenger's seat of your car, seat leaned back as far as it could go as he air drums to the song on the radio like nothing happened. And this time, just like the last, he'd thank you for picking him up. And he'd promise that this was the last time. And the next day, you'd come home from school to see that he'd left a voicemail to apologize for his drunken actions.

But you couldn't do that anymore. He wasn't going to be the one to lead this messy, broken dynamic anymore.

"This is the last time I'm answering my phone when you call, Steve," you promised him when you pulled up to the curb outside his house. His back straightened at the unfamiliar hardness to your voice. "Find someone else to take advantage of, because it isn't going to be me anymore."

"W-what are you talking about, Y/n?" He stuttered, voice no longer slurred by the alcohol. "I'd never take advantage of you, you know that."

"Then explain what this is. Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you dumped me with no warning, and then starting abusing alcohol and calling me to clean up after you. We're not friends, Steve, you made that abundantly clear when you ended things the way you did. You just--you're using me. When you need something, you know I'll come running to help. And I'm done. We're done." You surprised yourself with how cohesive your words came out. No tears threatened to spill, no bile rose in your throat. You were almost relieved to be finally breaking the toxic relationship that had started after the break up.

Steve, on the other hand, just stared at you. Mouth agape as he tried to process your feelings. You exited your car and went around to his side, helping him out of the car and into his empty house. A routine that would die tonight. Steve was silent as you went into his house, stopping at the front door for him to kick his shoes off before dragging him up the stairs and to his room.

He puked on the carpeted floor of his bedroom. You kept walking with him, guiding him into bed and rolling him onto his side before turning away and walking back out. There was no response from Steve. Nothing at all. And you made it all the way out to your car, drove yourself home, and snuck back into your own room, finding it easier to sleep tonight than it had been for you any time in the last three weeks.

TAGS

@vulgarfuckinvirgo @blowing-mikey

#steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #toxic!steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic

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bludhavents · 2 years

Note

i was the anon who requested the bruce fic and it was SO GOOD WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DEFINITELY WORTH THE WAIT AND I CANNOT THANK YOU ENOUGH!!❤️❤️❤️❤️

EEK thank you I’m so so glad you liked it, I think I’m gonna start writing more for him again lol I miss my boy </33

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bludhavents · 2 years

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Pool Party Shenanigans

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader (No Y/N)

Rating: T (though as a general rule my blog is 18+)

Warnings: Cursing, making out, I don’t think there are any other warnings, this is so full of fluff it’s ridiculous lol

Word count: 3.8k

Synopsis: Will you be able to survive a pool party with Eddie Munson in attendance and looking that gorgeous without spilling your feelings to him?

Author’s note: This is literally my brain rambling on and on about how hot Eddie and his sweet ol’ tatties are so don’t @ me I make no apologies lol. Also, my taglist is always open leave me a comment or an ask to be added! :)

My Masterlist

You were going to kill Steve Harrington. You were going to stand over his grave at his funeral and still be unable to resist the urge to yell at him.

How could he? He’s one of your best friends and he decides to put you through this torture?

If it weren’t for Robin you would’ve smacked him upside the head already.

He decided he had to throw a pool party and invite everyone. That included children, his ex along with her boyfriend, and your long term crush.

Keep reading

#eddie munson x reader

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bludhavents · 2 years

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Muffin Crumbs

pairing: Argyle x reader

summary: You work at the bakery next to Surfer Boy Pizza, and your routine with Argyle proves to be extra fun one night.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: smoking, cursing. fluff!!

based on this request

Every evening at closing time, you were required to throw away the leftover pastries and other baked goods from the day. Your boss insisted that they would be too stale to serve the next day, and apparently giving them to the homeless shelter was a violation of some health code. You understood the need for freshly baked goods-- what you didn't understand was why there had to be so much waste at the end of each shift.

But you carried on tonight just as you did every other evening: You closed the shop, turning the sign on the door and stacking chairs on top of the small café tables that were marked with rings of condensation from the customers' coffees. Everything was properly wiped down, the leftover baked goods were in their trash bag, purposely separated from the actual bag of trash that you'd already taken out to the dumpster.

The bag of baked good would be given to your best friend and fellow waste-hater, Argyle. Since you started telling him about how many pastries you threw out, he'd insisted that you just give them to him instead. And it became routine. At the end of your shifts, you'd both meet behind the stores and you'd exchange the bag of baked goods for a botched pizza order. It was a happy, balanced, and all-around beautiful routine that the both of you had composed.

When you opened the back door, you saw Argyle already leaned up against the back door of Surfer Boy's Pizza, a bright smile on his face when you stepped out.

"What've you got for me today, my friend?" He walked over to you excitedly, trading you two pizza boxes for the bag of assorted donuts and strudels.

"Some kinda pop-tart thingies, donuts, kolaches, and I think there's a few muffins in there, too," you answered happily. The pizza boxes he'd handed you today were still warm, very unlike usual. "These are burning my arm."

"Oh yeah, sorry 'bout that. I messed 'em up on purpose so I'd have something to give you, man. Everyone decided to be on their game and perfect their craftsmanship today for some reason," he said as the two of you sat next to each other on the curb just like you always did, carrying on an easy conversation to decompress after your tiring day.

He reached into the bag and pulled out a blueberry muffin, dramatically falling over onto your lap after his first bite. His hair was splayed across your legs as he stared up at you hazily.

"Jesus, man," he groaned. "This is fucking delicioso. What's in this? Heaven?!"

"I've never tried it, actually." He held his hand up and you took a bite from the muffin, blinking hard at the otherworldly taste that entered your mouth. He was right, it had to have been Heaven.

"Man, you got crumbs all over me!" He complained, turning away from you.

The words sent you into a fit of giggles, which only launched more crumbs out of your mouth and into his hair. It had you dying, clutching your stomach as you gasped for air and choked down the bite. Argyle stood up, shaking his head around like a dog to get all of the pieces from his hair. You were completely doubled over at this point, weakly gripping onto the curb to keep you from lying out flat on the asphalt as you laughed hysterically at him.

"A-Argyle!" You struggled to regain your composure. "I'm so sorry."

"It's kind of hard to believe your apology when you're laughing the whole time, man!" He shouted through a mouthful of muffin. "Got me stressed out, man. Shit, this muffin is bangin'."

You watched him pull a joint from the pocket of his pants, and he offered it to you. You nodded, licking your lips and letting him place the joint between them. He raised the lighter and held it to the end, igniting the weed for you and taking his spot beside you once again. You hit it and passed him the joint, shifting so that your head was resting in his lap, eyes fixed on the night sky above.

"Isn't Surfer Boy's still open?" You asked, dragging one of the pizza boxes across the ground to your side. Argyle reached over you to grab a slice, not thinking before he placed the joint in your lips to free up his hand space.

"Yes, we are." He took a big bite of the pizza. You felt a goofy grin make its way onto your face at the sight of him-- pizza slice in one hand, muffin in the other, and smoke from your exhale floating up into his face.

"Should you be smoking on the clock?" Despite your concerned words, you still raised the roll to his face and held it there, his lips brushing lightly against your fingers as he took a drag. He turned to look down, smiling sweetly at you before blowing the smoke back into your face. You coughed, instinctually catapulting yourself onto your feet and swatting at the air around you.

"I always smoke at work, man. Part of the job." He shrugged it off, but his eyes widened at the sight of you taking a huge drag of the weed, moving back to him and getting right in his face. "No, man! You got crumbs on me, I exhaled on you. We're even. Do this and it's full on war."

You scrunched your nose at him, but complied, blowing the smoke straight up into the air instead, and laughing at the way it sparkled under the dim lights of the alley.

"Fine." You sat next to him, taking another drag before holding it to his mouth again. "I like doin' this. It's therapeutic. Helps me reach my Zen. My nirvana. My purgatory."

"Word," Argyle agreed, nodding slowly along with your statements. "I think it's the muffins. They really bring out a different side of me, man."

"I think it's the Purple Palm Tree Delight." You leaned your head on his shoulder and inhaled the smoke again, tapping out the ash onto the cement.

"It'll do that do ya." He didn't make you lift your arm to help him. This time, he bent down on his own accord, wrapping his lips around the joint and breathing in deeply. "Sweet stuff."

You hummed, reaching down to grab a slice of pizza from the box. It was still warm-- the cheese pulled when you lifted the slice, and the both of you freaked out over it.

"Dude! Did you see that cheese pull? That was easily top 10 cheese pulls in the world!" You exclaimed, shaking Argyle by the arm. His jaw was wide open, eyes fixed on the slice in your hands.

"Wow, man!" A large smile broke onto his face. "If Jonathan was here with his fancy camera, he would've totally taken a picture of that. Definitely going in the record books."

"Pizza made by Argyle, cheese pull done by Me," you said dramatically, waving your hands in the air to emphasize your enthusiasm. "We are champions, good sir. Champions!"

Argyle smiled widely, slinging the arm holding pizza around your shoulders and whooping loudly into the night sky, followed by laughter from the both of you that lasted a lifetime.

#argyle x reader #argyle x you #argyle fluff #argyle x fem!reader #argyle x y/n

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bludhavents · 2 years

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Argyle x reader fluffy fic, reader works at the bakery next door to the pizza shop, and they're best friends and after work they smoke chill and eat pizza and shit from the bakery

I have this written & I love it & I will post it tomorrow !! Thank you for the request I literally love writing for Argyle omg

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bludhavents · 2 years

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hi there! A little while ago i sent in a request for bruce wayne and i wanted to know if maybe i should resend it? if you arent writing for him anymore that’s totally understandable and no worries! :D

I AM SO SORRY

I am still very happily writing for bale!bruce and probably will be forever because he is the love of my life. This work had just been in my drafts and I forgot to post it, I'm so glad you messaged again! Here is the link to it, I just now posted it! I hope you like it and thank you for requesting <33

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bludhavents · 2 years

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Out Late

pairing: bale!Bruce Wayne x fem!Reader

summary: Bruce isn't home yet and you can't get in touch with him. He comes home and fluff ensues.

word count: 900

warnings/tags: fluff, domestic!Bruce, kissing.

based on this request. I am so, so sorry this has been in my drafts since you requested it, and your message in my inbox just reminded me I never posted it!!! I loved writing this : )

Three hours had passed since Bruce promised to be home from his nightly patrol, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't starting to feel physically sick with anxiety. Both of his identities were of too high status to pursue: If you called the hospitals around town asking if Bruce Wayne had been admitted, there would be panic in Gotham. If you called the hospitals around town asking if Batman had been admitted, there would be panic in Gotham.

The only thing you could do to soothe yourself was take a seat on the couch and glue your eyes to the TV screen, watching the news sacredly. If he was injured--or god-forbid he was dead--Gotham Nightly News would surely have the story as soon as it happened. So, as long as they kept talking about the falling stock market and upcoming weather forecast, you were able to find a sliver of peace.

Still, not knowing where Bruce was in the middle of the night was a terrifying thought.

You'd called his phone a hundred times. Left tens of voicemails with a worried voice asking him to just message you when he saw this. To come back to you safely.

The door to your apartment opened suddenly, and you jumped from your seat, racing to where Bruce was entering with open arms. He was still in his Batman gear, which made it hard to hug him or check him for injuries, but that didn't stop you. You happily threw yourself in his arms, squeezing him tightly and breathing out shakily when his arms snaked around your back and held you close to him.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked gently as your fingers made their way to the mask he was still wearing. He leaned into your soft touch, shutting his eyes at the feeling of your gentle hands after such a long night.

"I'm okay, I'm sorry that I'm late," Bruce said as he guided you back to the couch. He let himself drop onto the cushions, stretched across its length before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you on top of him.

"You're gonna poke my eye out with one of these things, Bruce," you chided, pulling his mask off by its long cowl. Bruce chuckled, his chest shaking with laughter under your body. "Mm, it's all fun and games until you have a girlfriend with an eyepatch," you teased, but when he leaned up to press a kiss to your lips, you gladly obliged, letting your body finally relax against him.

"I think you could pull off an eyepatch," Bruce said as he pulled away from the kiss, earning a small chuckle from yourself. The sound was music to his ears, and he realized that he was truly undeserving of such a loving, caring woman in his life who was willing to stay up until 4am just to lay on the couch with him when he got home.

He kissed you again, smiling against your mouth. Your hands found his hair and he melted into the feeling of your skin against his. He settled his hands under your shirt on the small of your back, but you pulled away before he could deepen the kiss.

"Let's get you out of this," You sighed, pushing your hair back out of your face before taking both of Bruce's hands and guiding him to your bedroom, where a change of clothes already waited for him on the bed.

Bruce grinned softly, although his attention was primarily focused on watching your lips move as you spoke. He let you walk him to the bed and sit him on the edge of the mattress. Slowly, your hands worked to remove his suit piece-by-piece, something you had done only a few times before. He always tried to clean up before coming home, cleaning his cuts before they could worry you, and changing out of his sweaty suit so he could feel your soft hands wrap around him in greeting.

"Why'd you come home with your suit on today?" You asked as you slid the last layer of the top over his head.

"I was already late, I didn't wanna keep waiting," He admitted shyly, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you between his legs. His torso was bare, and you admired the view as you wrapped your own arms around his neck and kissed him slowly.

"I was worried. You weren't answering your phone." You let him pull you into bed, moving up to lay your head on his chest.

"I know," he sighed heavily. "I don't know where it went. I was chasing after this guy and I realized the time and tried to call you, but it wasn't in my car, and I couldn't just let the guy go, you know?"

"No, I know. Of course." You turned to press a kiss on his chin, admiring the loving look in his eyes as he watched you.

"I should've just come home. You're always more important than my job, baby." He ran his hands through your hair soothingly.

"Your job is important," you assured him, snuggling impossibly closer. "I know you love me. I'm not worried about that, not ever, Bruce."

"I do. So much." He rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around your back to pull your chest into his. "Let's get some sleep. Goodnight, baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Bruce."

#bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!batman x reader #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader

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bludhavents · 2 years

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Love You Like I Love You Part 2

pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: All of the hurt, confusion, and angst that comes with your breakup. And all of the love, affection, and excitement that comes with your makeup.

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: angst w a happy ending. reader's mom is a drunk. bullying, reader is heartbroken, desc of emotional numbness. mentions of eddie's self-hate. making out in public, hints at smut towards the end. (let me know if you want a part 3 to get to the actual smut lolol) lucas sinclair saves this relationship.

Heartbreak was a new feeling.

Unlike anything you'd experienced before, and hopefully unlike anything you'd ever experience again. Your chest hurt. Your stomach ached and twisted. The air was too much. Everything was too much. Your head felt separate from your body, like none of it was really happening. It was the feeling Eddie had described to you when he opened up about his parents. A feeling of pure, unadulterated loneliness that ate you from the inside out.

You could only hope that Eddie wasn't feeling the same way. You hoped you hadn't made him feel so awful. You hoped he was angry with you. Anything other than this emptiness.

Home was with Eddie, but your house was further into town, off the next exit, and you finally brushed your tears away. You stopped crying long enough to pull yourself back onto the road and sped home despite the dry heaves that racked through your body and made your back ache. Everything hurt, but somehow you felt numb at the same time. Like everything hurt so badly your body went into shock.

Inside of your house was warm. The A/C was broken just as it had been for the last three summers. You tried your best to make your way upstairs without disturbing your mother, but she heard your sniffles even in her drunken stupor. Your stomach rolled as she turned to face you with her sloppy grin, the one where drool pooled out of her mouth and her eyes shut.

"What's a matter, baby?" Her words slurred together, further breaking your heart. It was the first time you'd spoken to her in the last month. She was always too far gone in her benders. Out couch surfing somewhere downtown and leaving you here with your grandparents.

"Me and Eddie broke up," you said quietly, making your way over to her. She was burning up. "It's too hot in here for you to be drinking. Let's get you in the shower, mom."

"I told you that boy was bad news," she muttered. More tears fell down your face and you let yourself sob as you lifted her from the couch and into the bathroom, turning the water on cold and sticking her in there, sitting her down and closing the curtain to give her privacy while you laid on the bathroom floor and let it all out. You cried and pulled at your hair. You cursed yourself and cursed Eddie and cursed your mother.

You pulled your act together long enough to coax your mother into bed after she was cooled off, and she fell sleep almost immediately. From this angle she almost looked like she had everything under control. There was no stains down her shirt or glaze over her eyes. She looked peaceful and mature, unlike you'd seen her before. You left the room quickly, making sure the fan was on for her before rushing to your own room and flinging yourself on the bed. Eddie's jacket was the first thing you saw draped over your headboard, and it broke you. You held the leather close to your chest, crying softly as you breathed him in.

This breakup only happened because Eddie wasn't ready to love himself. It had nothing to do with a lack of love you had for him. No, your heart existed for Eddie Munson. He was your sun, moon, and stars. He knew how to make you smile big enough to reveal dimples you never knew you had. He knew how to make you laugh until your abdomen was sore. He knew how to kiss you so that you saw stars and butterflies.

All you could do was cry. You stayed in your room, holding Eddie's jacket so hard that your fingers ached. The boy you loved didn't love himself the same, and it killed you. It made you angry. It made you sad and terrified for what came next.

Who else did you have? Nobody knew you like Eddie did. And what about him? Did he need you to build him up? No. Surely Hellfire would support him, they had to. Dustin and Lucas knew what happened. Maybe they'd gone over to talk to him after you left. You hoped they did.

At some point in your overthinking, sleep overtook you. You let it. You dreamed of Eddie. Dreamed that he'd climbed to your window and apologized. He'd smiled and wiped your tears and assured you that he loved himself. That he was just so caught up in his head that he'd forgotten how to love himself properly, and you'd reminded him when you broke up. Now he was ready to get back together. He wanted to show you off and hold your hand at school. He wanted you to be front row at all his shows so he could shoe you off. He wanted to shout your name from the rooftops and hug you for the rest of your lives.

—

School was painful the next day. Nobody knew about the breakup, and the argument meant that you were tuned in to what everyone was saying about you. Nothing was as bad as Eddie had made it out to be.

"He doesn't love her like she loves him," Samantha whispered to Clair. You whipped around to face them. Maybe some things were that bad.

"Shut the fuck up." You felt your breaths get sharper. That was all you wanted to happen. For them to know you could hear everything they were saying. That they weren't untouchable.

"Was she wrong?" Clair pressed, a wicked grin on her face. You looked away from them and felt the knot in your throat tighten.

"Neither of you know jackshit," you spat. "It's not your relationship, so why do you care how much we love each other? Is your life really so sad?"

"Sad? Our lives?" She fought back, getting close to you. "I don't know why the rest of the school loves you. You're a bitch whose mommy is a fucking screw-up. You're dating the freak, and he doesn't even love you back. Oh! Maybe they just pity the fool."

"Maybe." You shut your locker and gave her a sarcastic smile before turning to leave. Eddie was standing right behind you, hand reaching out like he didn't know whether or not he was allowed to touch you. It was the most he'd ever acknowledged you at school, and it was too late.

"I love her. Very much. Thank you, Clair." Eddie cursed them out before turning to follow you as you left the building. His footsteps are heavy behind you.

When the both of you were outside, he took a step away, standing uncomfortably far away. You were less awkward. You slumped against the exterior wall of the school and slid down it until you were sitting on the cold cement. Eddie stayed on his feet, moving around anxiously.

"I'm really sorry about how yesterday went," he said after a long beat of silence. "I do love you. I don't care about what they say. I love you and I know you love me, too. I'm sorry for being an ass. Please, just let me fix this."

You didn't know what to say. You wanted so badly to say something, anything, but every time you looked at Eddie, you saw Eddie. The sweet boy who washed your hair and did nothing but shower you with compliments behind closed doors. You couldn’t be upset with that Eddie.

"I love you." He kneeled down in front of you and took your face in his hands. "I know you love me, baby."

"I can't, Eddie. This-- it's not what the breakup was about. I can't date you unless you love you like I love you. Like you're the coolest guy in the world who deserves the sun and the stars." Your voice broke and more tears fell down your face. Eddie moved to wipe them away, but you took your face out of his hands and stood up, leaving him on his knees.

"Please. I want to love myself. You're right, I don't, not yet. But I want to. You can help me, I love who I am when I'm with you." He was crying, too. The hesitation was clear in your eyes, he could see it plain as day. "Maybe we can just be friends? Until I shape up?"

"I can't just be friends with you, Eddie," you replied fast. "I love you way too much. Even now I just want to scream because all I want to do is hug you and forgive you and fall back where we were, but I can't! This is what has to happen. I'm so sorry."

"Fuck." Eddie stood up, kicking his shoe to the ground in frustration. "I really fucked it all up, didn't I?"

It was moments just like this when his insecurity got the best of him. He would turn around and blame himself for everything bad without ever attempting to fix the problem, because he didn’t believe he was capable of creating good. The quality didn’t work in a relationship.

"No. I want you back, Eddie. So bad. But we can't be together like this. We need to wait until you're better." The both of you were sobbing, words barely intelligible through the racking through your bodies. A hug from one another would fix it all, but you couldn't let yourself fall into him.

"I don't understand," he cried. "If you love me, why won't you help me get better? I'm ready to show everyone how good we are together. Give me one more chance."

All you could do is break down even more at his words.

The sun was bearing down on the both of you, and first period was long forgotten as you talked in the blistering heat. He wasn't hearing you, and you were so tired. Tired of repeating yourself and breaking your own heart everytime you had to say the words. You brought your hands to your face in frustration and tugged at your hairline, squatting down and then standing back up again because you had no idea what to do with yourself. No idea how to handle this. It felt like you were doing a good job of articulating yourself and your emotions, but Eddie wasn't paying attention. It was tearing you apart.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" He pleaded, and a struggled noise came from your mouth. You wanted to talk, but nothing was getting through to him.

"Eddie. We need time apart. We just-- let's step away for a little while, okay?" You couldn't face him. Your crying only got louder, harder. Bile rose in your throat.

Eddie looked up at you, his tears beginning to subside. His eyebrows pulled together and he felt his stomach twist as he watched you desperately trying to fix this relationship. It felt like all of your words suddenly hit him at once, and he realized that it wasn't about how much the two of you loved each other.

"I'll come back when I love myself?" He offered, making you stop your anxious movements and lift your head from your hands. You finally met his gaze, a sad smile on your lips as you nodded. Eddie couldn't look away from you. So beautiful in front of him even in your sadness, but he understood now. He felt like when the two of you got together, you already knew who you were. You were so ready to put yourself out there and love him unapologetically, and he wasn't, and he saw that now. He wanted to fix it for you.

"Excuse me." A voice came from the door beside you, and you turned to see the principal standing in the doorway. You both hurried to your feet. "Get to class. Both of you, off!"

It had been a month since you'd broken up.

You were back to yourself-- happy, confident, and focused. The pain was still there when you saw him. Even more so when you saw him and he looked anything less than happy, because you knew it was unfair to comfort him. He wasn't yours to comfort anymore, but you so desperately wanted to kiss the worries away and make him feel better.

—

"Hey." Lucas came up to you in the hallway one day, much to your surprise.

"Hey, Lucas. What's up?" You asked, trying not to overthink his sudden interest in talking to you.

"Are you seeing anyone?" His voice was quiet, but it still shocked you. You turned to face him.

"What? No. I-- um. I'm kind of waiting for Eddie still. Why?" The words tumbled out of your mouth faster than you could think.

"Just wondering." He didn't move from your side, and you couldn't help but think that there was something else he wasn't telling you.

Your suspicions were confirmed when he spoke again, barely above a whisper.

"Don't tell him I told you, but I've really noticed a change. He's different. Not happier, not without you, but he's comfortable now. I don't know what happened, but he seems more confident. Just-- give him a chance, yeah?"

"Fuck, Lucas, I will give that man a million chances," you gushed, a giddy smile wide on your face. "Actually, um, do you know what he's doing after school today?"

A knowing grin settled on his face, eyes crinkling at the sides charmingly.

"He's free. He was trying to get Dustin to let him come over and play his Nintendo." Lucas answered slyly. "He's in a good mood today. You should talk to him."

"Yeah?" You asked, hopeful. Lucas nodded. You gave him a short one-arm hug before parting ways. "You're my favorite person in the world, Lucas Sinclair!”

You heard his loud laugh from across the hall.

It was a quick day, much to your pleasure. Classes were easy and you saw Eddie at lunch with a cocky grin on his face that sparked butterflies in your stomach as he explained something dramatically to the group. His eyes flickered to yours and you couldn't help but smile widely from across the cafeteria. Yes. Today was going to be the day.

After school, you raced to Eddie's van and surprised yourself when you realized he’d beaten you there.

"Hi," he greeted you breathlessly, and you felt suddenly shy under his gaze. Lucas was right, he was different. Eddie Munson was beaming. Your beautiful boy was changed in all the right ways, and a little piece of your heart felt fuller at the sight. "What are you doing here?"

"Eddie." Was all that came to mind. He smiled your favorite smile and laughed your favorite laugh.

"Yeah. Hi, baby." The words slipped from his mouth so easily. Your head spun. Fuck. This man put some kind of love spell on you, you were sure of it.

"How are you?" You pulled yourself together, grinning up at him.

"I'm really good. Actually, I was planning to come to your house after school, but I see you beat me to it," he said, cheeks flushed. His newfound confidence was blinding you.

"Yeah?" You asked cheekily, letting your body relax a bit more.

"Yeah." He stepped closer to you, confident, but making sure you were okay with it at the same time. "I've been doing real good, baby. I actually like the people around me more now, and I was thinking-- shit, if I like Dustin more, imagine how much I'd love my girl. You're what I want. I don't want to hide, and I'm sure as hell not worried about what these idiots think. I want you, baby. Let me try it again? Promise I’ll do right by you this time. I’m better.”

"Eddie Munson I am so happy that you're happy." You held his face in your hands. "God, you're perfect. Yes. Yes, yes, yes I want to try this again and make it work. Please."

Eddie cheered, jumping out of your grip, but quickly wrapping his arms around you again and celebrating with you. He was pumping his fists in the air, whooping and hollering, smiling like a maniac.

"Eddie!" You giggled over his cheering, and he turned to face you. "When are you going to kiss me, loverboy?"

His grin grew impossibly wider before he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, sweet kiss. You felt his pretty smile on your mouth, and you were sure he felt yours too. He grabbed your face and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. It was euphoric to have him back in your arms. This single kiss was better than any other one you'd shared in your relationship. Your heart was racing like it was the first time all over again.

"Get a room!" You heard Dustin's voice call from down the lot. Eddie's gentle hold left your face to flip Dustin off as he continued making out with you against the side of his van. He finally pulled away, looking at you with his wide eyes and swollen lips and perfectly flushed cheeks.

"Fuck. I've missed you so much," he said lowly before going to kiss you again, this time harder. You gasped and his tongue darted into your mouth, pressing against your own. It took every ounce of self control to pull yourself away, putting your hands on his chest.

"Eddie. Let's go home, yeah?" You asked through your heavy breathing. Eddie nodded, picking you up spontaneously. You squealed, grabbing onto him as he set you back down.

"I love you." He kissed your forehead once you were back on the ground.

"I love you too." You lost all of the aforementioned self control and threw yourself at him, smashing your lips against his. He moaned, grabbing your hips and pinning you to the side of his car as he leaned over you, kissing you with a feverish intensity. You melted into his touch, gripping the front of his shirt with one hand and squeezing his bicep with your other.

Neither of you could get enough.

It had been a month without each other. The longest month that either of you had ever experienced. Your minds were both reeling, absorbing each movement of the other, each breath and moan and desire.

You were lost in the feeling of his fingers squeezing the soft skin of your waist. All you wanted was to wrap your legs around him and mesh together-- an entity of love and passion. Your smile was gone. Fuck, you were happy, so happy. But you needed more of him. You whined against his mouth and he pressed his body against yours, smashing your backside against the van. One of his hands caressed the side of your neck the way it always did before he was about to break a kiss to mark you up and down, and a shiver ran up your spine at that. He smirked, involuntarily jolting his hips up into yours and bringing his other hand to rest on your thigh.

His mouth left yours and you sighed, leaning your forehead on his shoulder and feeling his lips trail down your neck slowly, sensually. You were putty under his touch, that much was evident. The way he moved above you with such confidence, so sure of himself, it had you hotter than ever.

"So pretty, baby," he murmured as he continued down your neck. You pressed your lips together and burrowed your head further into his shoulder to keep the moan from leaving your lips. Eddie stopped the hickeys when he reached the collar of your shirt.

At this point, you wouldn't have cared if he ripped it off of you in front of everyone. You just wanted him. Needed him.

"Kinda like doing this in front of everyone." His voice was gravelly as he brought his face to yours once again. "Fuck, this is turning me on. I can’t get enough of you."

"Good," you said, kissing him hotly. Your hand tugged at his tangled hair and he groaned, leaning all of his weight onto you. His hands were under your shirt, grabbing at your sides to keep himself on his feet as he melted under your spell. Your free hand grabbed him by the belt loops and brought his waist in to press right against yours, much to his approval.

"You're killin' me," he stuttered with a cocky grin, pulling his face back to look at you. "God, you're so gorgeous."

"I want you so bad, Eddie," you whispered against his lips.

"Needy, huh?" He teased, kissing your lips painfully slowly. His hand left your waist and reached over to open the door, lips still attached to yours as he guided you to sit in the driver's seat of his van.

"You're so good to me, pretty boy," you praised, smiling widely at him. He snorted and shook his head, leaning in the door and kissing you again, although none of it was enough. He needed to be closer.

"'Scuse me." Someone piped up from behind Eddie, and you giggled in embarrassment as the guys in the car parked next to him tried to open their doors.

"No worries, fellas." Eddie tipped his head dramatically before jumping into your lap, swinging your legs over and shutting the door. Your laughter only grew at the feeling of the grown man perched goofily on your lap, ass smashing the horn. You had to shove him off of you and onto the passenger's seat for the noise to stop, choosing to ignore the stares from everyone now. He leaned over the console to kiss you, but you quickly climbed over it and straddled his waist, kissing him sweetly.

Once again, the both of you found yourselves smiling into the kiss, absorbing each other's love and creating a world of your own. Eddie pressed you further down into his hips, resting one palm under your shirt to settle on the small of your back, and the other on your upper thigh, thumb pressing into your skin.

In the minimal privacy of his car, the both of you were erotic messes, letting every moan slip past your mouths and taking the other in selfishly. You had no idea how much time had gone by since school ended, and you couldn't bring yourself to care in the slightest.

You and Eddie were back together.

TAGS:

@lilyg6789 @miracleboysel @thegirlwiththatolduglybookshelf @the-chocoholic-writer @vulgarfuckinvirgo @mylovelycrazyworld @bratckerman @mariap240 @loveberrie @cablewintersoldier

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

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bludhavents · 2 years

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I have this Steve thought that he will take his love’s day planner and write things for her to do which could range from silly to steamy like “tell robin her music taste sucks, visit boyfriend at work, makeout with boyfriend in his car, etc” knowing it’ll make her smile and she’ll do some of them.

omg.... anon...... i'm in love with this!!! it's so unique!!!!

the first time it happened, it took you a while to even notice the glittery blue ink that filled the lined boxes of your planner. the entire next week was filled with a handwriting that certainly was not yours, but it was easy to detect the culprit; you could sniff out anything that your boyfriend got into in no time, always having this gut feeling when something had to do with him. as you read what was written all across the next seven boxes, your suspicions were correct.

"monday, 8am: make fun of robin's AWFUL music taste at FV shift." you rolled your eyes as you read that; steve had insisted that robin's preferred tunes were absolutely horrid lately. even more so since she had been gushing about wanting a new album from one of her favorite artists. (to be fair, you're not sure why steve feels as though his music taste is any better. you know all about his love for the most cheesy, classic love songs, despite how much he'll protest if you out him). in retaliation you write "remind steve of his own AWFUL music taste" underneath his handwriting. even if he would never get to see it, the action brought a playful grin to your face.

"tuesday, 1pm: bring loving boyfriend his favorite lunch." you knew exactly what said favorite lunch was; a bacon cheeseburger, large dr. pepper, and medium size pack of fries from a local fast food chain a few blocks away from family video. his lunch breaks were usually quite short, and a singular trip to the place had him completely obsessed with it. convenient and delicious, it was forever deemed by him as his utter favorite. between this request and monday's, you think this one is much more doable. sweet even, had steve not cheekily written it down for you in your own planner.

"wednesday, 6pm: drive the kids to hellfire meeting at eddie's." this was something you both had actually talked about. a pack of young teenagers had squirmed their ways into both your and steve's hearts (but primarily steve's). dustin had begged him to drive them to their next club meeting, and when it seemed as though steve was relentless in denying his position as their driver, he promised that steve could have an entire two weeks off from driving him anywhere. steve caved, and you already knew that dustin would break his promise, begging to be taken to the arcade or over to mike's house, and steve would complain about it but end up grinning in the end anyway. each and every one of the kids had steve wrapped around their fingers.

"thursday, 5pm: diner date with handsome boyfriend." another thing upon the list that was doable, but not discussed yet. for a moment, you wondered whether steve would formally ask you about it or if he would give you a cocky grin as he asked if you happened to have sudden plans on thursday. you opted for the latter; you knew steve well enough to almost see the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"friday, 10am: meet the best boyfriend ever in the inventory room. ;)" you nearly laughed out loud when you saw the poorly drawn winky face at the end of steve's sentence; god, he was such a complete dork. a very adorable dork, your dork even, but a dork nonetheless. whether you would complete that one or not was up to whether you felt like being generous or not. regardless, if you "accidentally" stumbled into the back room with your coworker at 10am sharp, that would simply be an odd coincidence. totally.

"saturday, 8pm: sleepover with the kids at steve's!" you noted that this was the only time steve had referred to himself with his actual name and not an amazing adjective followed by 'boyfriend,' and the seven little hearts drawn around his name, colored in with pink gel pen, explained themselves.

"sunday, 11pm: weekly night drive to skull rock. ;)" steve harrington's winky faces were going to be the death of you, you swore it. plus, did you really go to skull rock weekly? sure, a few times every now and then, but never weekly. unless your beloved boyfriend was trying to make some kind of statement, or perhaps was proposing that it should become weekly.

following through with some of his requests and completely disregarding others, the week passed on, and steve was over again. when he left, your planner was once more filled with little notes and even some doodles from your boyfriend. as time passes on, it becomes a tradition between the two of you. he comes home with you every sunday after your encounter at skull rock and somehow finds the time when you aren't in the room to fill your weekly routine. he's more bold as time goes on, becoming more flirtatious and suggestive in his daily notes, but he's also becoming more playful, writing more and more ridiculous things down for you, until it's been months later and you're looking back fondly over your finished planner, the messy handwriting of steve harrington's love for you strew throughout the pages.

for christmas, you buy steve his own planner, a smirk on your face that only says one thing: your turn.

#steve harrington x reader

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bludhavents · 2 years

Text

Eddie had to go and die before we got the chance to see his hair pulled back into a low ponytail while he practiced guitar on the floor of his room in a fitted black tank top and loose sweatpants 😕

Could’ve even seen him holding the guitar pic between his lips while he flipped through the sheet music with one hand and practiced the chords with the other.

What a shame.

Duffer bros - 1

Us - 0

#Eddie munson #joseph quinn #st4

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bludhavents · 2 years

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the tag list sign up form is up! I'm new to tagging in my works, so forgive me if there's some trial and error at first, lol. anyways, here is the link in case you're interested. I've almost doubled my blog followers in the last couple of days :,) so grateful for all of the support.

ALSO LYLILY P2 IN TEN HOURSSSS!!! I HOPE YALL LIKE IT!

#key noto

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bludhavents · 2 years

Text

Menace | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Telling a guy at a party that you have a boyfriend doesn't seem to deter him. Probably because that guy is your boyfriend and you're too drunk to realize.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Drinking, Major Fluff, Established Relationship, Cute pet names

A/N: Don't ever settle for a relationship if they wouldn't do your night routine for you.

The music was starting to give Steve a headache. Gone were the days of being the keg king and beer pong master, first to have a drink and last to stumble his way home. Now suddenly he was more worried about drunk Robin asking people far too personal questions and even drunker you deciding to play another drinking game because you liked that it had cards in it.

"Please, I'm sincerely begging you, Y/N, just sit down–" you interjected with a whine, staring up at him with heartbroken eyes.

"Steve, the game just started. I didn't even break the circle–" a loud hiccup cut off your slurred protests making Robin let out a squeaking laugh from the seat next to you.

Steve let out a tired sigh, squeezing his eyes shut for a minute before zeroing in on the two of you.

"Well, we're gonna play a new game. It's called sit here while Steve makes a phone call," he said, eyes flickering from yours, wide and disgruntled, to Robin's, half lidded from the joint he had found in her hand, not a clue where she got it from.

"It sounds awful," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and sinking back into the couch.

"Yeah the name sucks," Robin said, picking up an unfinished drink from the side table next to the couch. Steve snatched it from her before she could press it to her lips because it wasn't her drink and she had thrown in her half smoked joint not even thirty seconds before, the rolled blunt floating around in the dark liquid.

"Rob, stop trying to drink everything you see. You're not aquatic," he hissed, harshly dropping the drink on a table out of her reach.

"Well maybe I'm dehydrated, Steve. You gonna let me die of thirst?" she quipped back, eyes blinking slowly revealing red rimmed irises.

"Then I'll get you a water, Robin," he hissed back, eyes narrowing at her. "But first let me make one single phone call, okay? You're not gonna die of thirst in three minutes."

"I might! I feel my cells disintegrating as we speak!" she exclaimed, eyes wide. You turned to look at her, mouth dropping open slight in horror.

"Disintegrating?" you repeated.

"Every moment that passes–POOF. Another mitochondria bites the dust," she confirmed, giving you a sad smile and a shrug.

"No–" Steve pinched the bridge of his nose.

"That's terrible," you expressed, lips pouting and looking to Steve with an expression of alarm. "That's so sad."

"The saddest," she nodded again as Steve muttered an incredulous "Oh my god."

"We need to do something, Steve! Her mitochondria!"

"My mitochondria, Steve!" Robin echoed you, tone mocking as she smirked at him. Steve felt his headache growing steadily.

"Fine! Fine! I'll go get you a drink! Just stay on this fucking couch. Got it?" When neither of you protested, eyes flickering back and forth between your faces he added a strict Stay like you would a disobedient dog.

He hurried to find the house phone, knowing his timeframe was limited before the two of you wandered off in opposite directions, giving him another wild good chase to corral you together. It was late and he was tired and he desperately needed to call in some back up.

Punching in the numbers, Steve cast distasteful looks at the not so innocent sounds emanating from the bathroom adjacent from the landline. The phone rang for a while, making him fear no one was going to answer until finally the receiver picked up.

"Munson residence," the chirpy voice of Eddie Munson had Steve releasing a short-lived sigh of relief.

"Eddie, it's Steve," he said, pressing close to the wall to avoid two girls swaying dangerously and stumbling past him with mirroring green faces.

"Stevie! To what do I owe this pleasure?" Eddie seemed to be eating something as his words were slightly muffled.

"I need you to come get your girlfriend." He tried not to sound like he was begging even though that's exactly what he was doing.

There was shuffling on the line before Eddie's voice rang out clear, "She okay?"

Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes. "She's fine just plastered," he thought for a moment before adding with exasperation, "and like obsessed with card games. And really bad at them so she keeps losing and drinking more."

Eddie's charmed laugh sounded over the static of the receiver. Steve wanted to pull his hair out. Of course Eddie found anything you did endearing. You could insult Black Sabbath and he would still look at you like you put the stars in the sky. You had him completely under your enchantment.

"Just make sure she's not taking any," Eddie replied, his smile drenching his tone.

"Taking any what?"

"Card decks. She likes to collect them."

Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet. Then Eddie laughed again and Steve had to resist banging his head against the wall.

"Eddie. I'm begging you. Please, just, come pick her up," he said through clenched teeth.

It didn't take Eddie long to reach the house party. You had mentioned where you were going earlier that night, commenting that it wasn't too far from where Corroded Coffin was playing and that maybe he could stop by after. He had agreed under the impression that you would probably be home by the time he was finished because it was far later than you were usually out. So he had headed home thinking you were in bed until Steve had called.

And now he was weaving through a legion of drunk high schoolers, on his way to relieve a very stressed sounding Steve from his never-ending babysitter duties. You were sat on a couch, arms crossed as you glared at Steve and Robin endlessly bickering about something. When Steve saw him he called him over.

"I'm taking Robin home. Good luck with that one because she snuck another drink in when I wasn't looking," Steve grumbled, hooking his arm through Robin's as she whined at him.

"What if I don't want to go home," Robin shot at him, eye brows raising.

"I don't care. It's late and I'm tired so we're leaving," he stated, tugging her towards the door.

"You're not the governor of the universe, Steve."

Eddie watched their retreating forms before turning his attention back on you. Your gaze seemed far away as you looked forward, not seeming to have even noticed his presence. He took few steps towards you before sinking into the seat next to you.

"Hey, trouble," he said, reaching out a hand to brush softly against your cheek.

You pulled away like you had been burned and turned to give him a glare. He lost his breath for a moment, confused by the sudden hostility.

"Can you leave me alone?" Your voice was slurred but it didn't conceal the overt bite to your tone. He felt a bubble of hurt grow in his chest, hand dropping to his lap.

"You want me to leave you alone?" he echoed, slightly bewildered. Hours before coming here you were pouting at him for not being able to join, acting as though it would physically hurt you to be away from him for a night. And now, suddenly, you didn't want him here? Were you mad at him for abandoning you?"

"Yeah. I have a boyfriend, so, you can leave," you bit back. He blinked at you, digesting your words, before relaxing. Your glassy eyes gave no indication that you realized it was him. You weren't mad at him, you were mad at the thought of a random guy bothering you at this party. He couldn't conceal his grin.

"Oh, yeah? What's his name?" he asked, playing along as the tension eased from his body. He wanted to reach out and push your hair behind your ear but restrained himself.

"Eddie. Eddie Munson. And he'll beat you up if he finds out you're bothering me," you proclaimed, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you glared at him, or however many versions of him you were seeing with your blurred vision.

"He will, will he?" he felt giddy at your admission.

He had had moments in your year long relationship where he let his insecurity eat away at him. You were beautiful and kind and alluring. You unconsciously had people gravitating towards you and sometimes he worried that one day someone would turn your head and steal you away from him. But seeing you be so cold to someone even attempting to have a conversation with you, bringing him up immediately, had his heart selfishly warming.

"Yeah and he's on his way to come get me. So try your luck with someone else," you concluded, words slightly garbled as you gave him your best glare.

"How many drinks have you had, trouble?" he asked, laughing incredulously. Your steely glare hardened. You unfolded your arms to poke him harshly in the shoulder.

"You don't get to call me that. Only my boyfriend can call me that," you stated, poking him again for good measure. It didn't hurt him but he feigned pain anyway, hand flying to his shoulder as he sunk back like he was shot.

He opened his mouth to respond but suddenly you were clambering your way off the couch, form swaying as the alcohol in your system made your vision spin. Eddie was up next to you in an instant, gripping your elbows to steady you.

"Easy, sugar. Don't want you face planting," he murmured, trying to bit back his laugh. You halfheartedly swatted him away, making him remove his hands from you only to hover them behind you in case you started swaying again.

"I just told you not to touch me. I'll beat you up myself if I have to," you said, giving his shoulder a light shove that had you stumbling instead of it's intended affect. Eddie ghosted his hands behind your back as you righted yourself, eyes dancing over your flushed face and glazed eyes.

You marched away from him, dead set on avoiding him and finding something to do until your actual boyfriend showed up. Eddie followed behind you like a shadow, eyes alight in amusement as he waited for you to finally realize it was him. You were nearly oblivious to your surroundings, bumping into people, stumbling over loose cans littering the floor. He followed behind, one hand floating to press your back lightly when you wobbled and the other pressing bodies away so you could move easier through the crowd.

When you found the front door and burst out into the cool air of the autumn night, you whirled around to give your stalker a piece of your mind only to freeze when you noticed his wiry curls and amused smirk.

"Eddie!" you breathed, voice airy and light as you tumbled towards him, arms flying to wrap around his neck. He let out a boisterous laugh, arms snaking around your midsection as he squeezed you tight, lifting you slightly from the ground.

"Hi, pretty," he breathed, face nuzzling into your neck to leave a few searing kisses. You molded into him, body relaxing and contented sigh seeping through your smiling lips.

"Eddie, what took you so long! There was this annoying creep who wouldn't leave me alone," you whined, breathing in his cologne and the faint smell of cigarettes. His chuckle vibrated into your neck making chills run up your spine. You pressed in tighter, addicted to his touch.

"Did you tell him to fuck off?" he asked, playing along, smirk widening as he pulled back, finally allowing himself to brush wild pieces of hair behind your ears.

"Told him I'd fight him," you replied and he gave you a bright grin.

"Good girl," he said, pinching your cheek lightly, before leaning in to press his lips to yours. You preened at the praise, stepping on tip toes to deepen the kiss that was making your head fuzzy. He smoothed both his hands on the sides of your face, thumbs resting on the apples of your cheeks, pecking your lips a few more times for good measure before he was reluctantly pulling back.

"Let's get you home, yeah, trouble?" You nodded, eager to go anywhere with him. He took your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before tugging you in the direction of his truck.

The drive to your house was filled with you animatedly recounting the party to Eddie, who listened with a soft smile on his face. There were moments where your slightly slurred speech and foggy memory made your stories hard to follow but anytime you laughed he did too, your glee contagious and endearing. He had to scold himself to pay attention to the road a few times when he felt his gaze being reeled in like sailor to a siren.

When you arrived at your home, you handed him your bag claiming your keys were somewhere in its depth. He turned the ignition off, the both of you sitting in the car as the heat slowly seeped into the chill of the night. He opened your bag and let out an incredulous laugh. At least three decks of cards were shoved into your small purse, stolen from a fair few disgruntled partygoers who probably wouldn't have suspected you as the thief in the slightest.

"You're a menace, you know that?" he commented, pushing the decks to the side so he could reach for the set of keys glinting at the bottom of the bag. You pouted at him, no clue what he was referring to. He chuckled, leaning over the inner consul to press a sweet kiss to your lips. "A cute one, but a menace."

"C'mon. Let get you inside," he said, unlocking the doors. You were nearly putting all of your weight on him as you headed to the front door of your house, body slung around him like a backpack. He had one arm wrapped around your back, pressing kisses to the top of your head every few steps, your bag looped over his shoulder.

As he fumbled with the lock, keys rattling against the metal of the doorknob, you mumbled something about your family being away when he winced at the noise he was making. And once you were inside, door shut behind you, he flicked on a few switches, lighting up the empty house. He dropped your bag and keys on the small table by the door before turning towards you.

With both arms wrapping around you, he bent slightly, his hands moving to cradle the backs of your thighs.

"Up," he commanded. You jumped, letting him hoist you into his arms as you wrapped yours around his neck, legs hooking his waist.

"'M, tired," you mumbled into his shoulder. His chest vibrated as he chuckled, taking cautious steps up towards the second floor.

"I bet. It's nearly two," he replied and you humphed in response. When he made it to your room, he slowly released his hold on you, letting you slide down until your feet touched the ground. You whined against him, not liking the idea of not being completely wrapped up in him.

"Need to get you ready for bed, sugar," he said, reaching around behind his neck to pry your arms away. You whined again but had little strength to resist him. He nudged you forward until the backs of your legs met your bed, causing you to reluctantly sit down, the mattress dipping slightly.

He crouched down so he could rest his weight on his knees, the carpet of your floor cushioning them. You were blinking slowly down at him like you were fighting against sleep. Hand wrapping around your ankle, he undid the laces and slipped off your sneaker, dropping it to the side. He repeated the action with your other shoe.

"I'm gonna get you something to change into, okay?" he said, pushing up from the floor. He kicked off his own shoes next to yours, pulling off his vest and then his jacket, draping them over your desk chair.

Your room was yards cleaner than his own and starkly different. Remnants of your childhood were woven together with band and movie posters, shelves of books, and colorful post-its and polaroids taped to your mirror. He spotted his face in many of them, heart warming each time he noticed yet another one of him you managed to find room for.

He headed for your dresser, pulling drawers open at random trying to find something for you to sleep in. His cheeks warmed at the drawer of underwear he yanked open, the pretty pastels and swirling lace making him swallow harshly. He wasn't here to be creepy he was here to be a doting boyfriend. He opened a few more until he found one of his shirts he thought he had misplaced. Menace, he thought.

When he turned around you had already begun slipping off your pants, kicking around until they flew off your ankles. He walked over to you as you were pulling your shirt over your head. His Adam's apple bobbed as his eyes trailed down the straps of your bra to the curves of your chest, heat rising on the back of his neck. He cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he chided himself. Now was not the time for that. He heard you undo your bra and kept his gaze on your sleepy eyes as he handed you the black T-shirt. You slipped it on without protest.

"Alright, now to the bathroom," he said, patting the side of your bare thigh.

"But I'm tired," you groaned, wrinkling your nose at the idea of exerting more energy.

"I know, trouble, but you still have your makeup on," he said, leaning over to take your hand in his. He held his other one out and you reluctantly grabbed it, letting him pull you up. He maneuvered the both of you into the bathroom. You wobbled against him, eyes squinting shut at the harshness of the overhead light. He let go of your hands to slide them to the sides of your ribcage. Then he lifted you so you were sat on the counter besides the sink.

“Okay, sleepyhead, I need you to direct me through your night routine,” he said, rubbing his hand on the side of your neck. You looked at him through bleary eyes before looking down at the counter. An assortment of bottles and serums and tubs of cream littered the expanse of the white laminate. You blinked heavily before pointing at one.

“That’s makeup remover,” you said as a yawn over took you. He picked it up, unscrewing the top and then staring blankly at you.

“Do I . . . use my hand?” he asked innocently. You giggled softly, leaning back to rest against the wall.

“No, silly. A cotton pad,” you replied, waving your hand in the direction of the cabinet. He found them, dropping a few as he struggled with the zip lock, before pulling one out. He tipped the clear liquid from the bottle, soaking the cotton pad before turning back to you.

“Eyes shut,” he ordered, stepping closer so your legs parted for his thighs. You followed his instructions, eyes fluttering shut as he brought the pad to your face.

Eddie was nothing if not gently when it came to you. The damp cotton brushed softly over your eyelids, over your eyebrows, down your temples, trailing your jaw, over your lips, and in circles on your cheeks. He could tell you were dozing, needing to move his other hand to frame your jaw so your head wouldn’t lull to the side.

Dropping the dirtied cotton pad in the trash, he grabbed a hand towel and soaked it under the tap. It was warm when he brought it to your face, the stitched loops of the towel swirling around as he wet the skin. Dropping it down, he scanned the array of bottles until he found one clearly labelled face wash. He squeezed probably too much onto his palms before moving to massage it around your face. The gel foaming as he circulated his fingers, tender movements nearly putting you to sleep. Your eyes blinked open, finding his focused on his movements, tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration. A balloon of affection blossomed in your chest.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world,” you mumbled, blinking slowly at him like cat. His movements slowed as heat rushed to his cheeks at your words.

“Well you’re my favorite person in the whole universe,” he said back, moving to rinse the face wash from his hands. He re-wet the small towel and moved to wipe your face down. You pouted at him.

“That’s not fair. I can’t go any bigger than the universe,” you grumbled, unhappy that he outdid you so quickly. He let out an endeared laugh, hand moving to cup the back of your neck as he wiped the foam from your face.

“I don’t play fair, baby. Not when it comes to professing my undying love to you,” he said making you wrinkle your nose. He leaned in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

“I missed you tonight,” you confessed as he finished cleaning your face. He rinsed the towel in the sink before turning to look at you. Your head was resting against the wall, eyes half lidded in fatigue but glinting prettily under your lashes. He felt his chest tighten at the sight, his breath stalling for a moment at your effortless beauty.

“I always miss you when you’re not around,” you added. He moved to face you, chest coiling in unbridled affection, hands moving to cage your face in. He swiped his thumbs under your eyes, the soft skin glittering from the water.

“Wish I could be with you 24/7 but I don’t want you to get sick of me,” you continued, eyes fluttering up at him. He thought you might really kill him.

“Not even in an alternate dimension could I get sick of you. Not even in a hypothetical scenario. Not even if my life depended on it,” he replied, moving closer until your noses were almost touching. Your hands snaked around his torso, tugging him closer, bunching up the back of his shirt.

“If you’ll have me I’ll probably be up your ass until the end of time,” he added, making a peel of giggles erupt from you. His eyes squinted as he smiled, leaning in to press his lips to yours, your giggles dissolving into his affection.

“Now, no more being cute until we’re done with this,” he said after pressing yet another kiss to your lips. Your swollen lips chased his to steel another, then another before he was squeezing your sides, making you squirm and laugh as he pulled away.

You leaned back against the wall, eyes drooping as he continued, grabbing your moisturizer and spinning open the cap. He repeated his gentle motions over your face, swiping softly around your eyes and smoothing any tension from your face.

“Brush,” you blinked your eyes open noticing him holding out your toothbrush, toothpaste already sitting on the bristles. Your movements were sluggish but you managed, leaning over to spit in the sink before he was handing you a cup of water to rinse.

You were both quiet for a moment. He watched as you leaned your head back, eyes shut. His hands trailed the sides of your thighs, brushing the skin, squeezing slightly, warming them and making goosebumps appear. His eyes danced around your face, taking in your peaceful features. You were breathtaking even when on the edge of sleep. He was completely enamored with you. He never thought someone could have him so enchanted that he would be taking their makeup off before bed and making sure they brushed their teeth but you had sent him one dazzling smile and he was lost in a sea of desire to take care of you for as long as he lived.

“Alright, ready for bed?” he asked, affectionately brushing his thumbs on the tops of your thighs. You nodded, slumping forward to wrap your arms around his neck. He tugged you forward, hands slinking under your thighs to pull you up into his arms.

He laid you gently on your bed, pulling the covers down so you could slip your legs in until he was moving the duvet up over you. He wandered back over to your dresser, digging back into the bottom drawer where he knew a treasure trove of his clothes was hidden, never to be seen in his closet again. He slipped off his pants and then shirt, pulling on an old Van Halen T-shirt, the ratty edges brushing against the waistline of his boxers.

"You're staying, right?" your sleepy voice rang out from the bed. He kicked his pile of clothes to the side, knowing you were going to chide him for it tomorrow.

"Wouldn't dream of leaving," he answered, pulling off his rings, the silver clanking as he dropped them on your desk.

He hurried to shut the lights off before he was crawling in beside you, finding your sleepy body in the dark and pulling you into him. You let out a contented sigh, warm breath tickling his neck, making him pull you in even tighter.

He wasn’t sure how he had gotten so lucky. Nothing seemed to compare to finally being in your arms, breathing in the smell of your perfume and feeling the smoothness of your skin. His lips traced your hairline, leaving soft honeyed kisses around your forehead and down over your eyelids. You smiled into the darkness, tilting your face up in a silent beg for more. He kissed your nose, his eyelashes dusting the tops of your cheeks.

"Love you," you whispered, melting against him and his warm lips. You felt him smile against your cheek.

"Love you more," he whispered back, a kiss following his admiration.

“Love you times a million,” you added, hoping finally to win a battle of affection.

“Love you times infinity,” he replied. You let out a whine at him one-upping you yet again but he just chuckled in fondness, teeth nipping at the plumpness of your cheek until he was seeking out your lips again, to press a dozen more kisses until you inevitably fell under the spell of sleep, dreaming about him and his big brown eyes and warm kisses and how very very lucky you were.

#eddie munson x reader

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bludhavents · 2 years

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MASTERLIST TAG LIST REQUEST

Requests are open and these characters are BEGGING for me to write about them awh see look so cute okay request now!!!!

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #argyle x reader #jonathan byers x reader #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader

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bludhavents · 2 years

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Part 2 of Love You Like I Love You will go out Thursday at 4:30am Central time. reply to this post or dm me if you'd like to be tagged when it's posted! I can't wait :)

#eddie munson x reader

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bludhavents · 2 years

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sweet talk I sh

I pairing: steve harrington x female reader

I précis: short little thing about visiting steve at work!

I content/warnings: fluff

I word count: 388

Sweat and summer heat sticks uncomfortably to your back, the seat of your car left behind with a sticky imprint of where you’d been sitting.

Purse slung over your shoulder and water bottle in hand, you yank open the door to Family Video, eliciting the ring of the bell above the frame.

The doe-eyed gaze of your boyfriend is set on you immediately and you smile under his gentle intensity.

Keep reading

#steve harrington x reader

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bludhavents · 2 years

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Love You Like I Love You

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve finally decided that you're done letting eddie weaponize your relationship as an excuse to tear himself down.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, arguing, cursing, crying, yelling, reader is fuming bro. !!eddie is insecure and that is the start of the argument!!

Part 2

You were lying in bed with Eddie, chin resting on his head as he laid between your legs. His hair was soft in your hands, the heavy strumming of his guitar a stark contrast to the gentle massage of your fingers against his scalp. The song ended and he put the guitar away, much to your surprise.

"What's wrong, Ed?" You asked, brushing his bangs out of his face. He only turned his head and smiled up at you cheekily.

"Wanna spend time with my girl." He leaned into your touch. "Plus, I can practice at the gig tonight."

"I think you're supposed to be practicing before the gig. Isn't that the whole point?" You giggled, smoothing your thumb over his cheeks. "I don't want to come watch my boyfriend practice on stage, I wanna see him perform. Like Joan Jett."

Eddie's face shifted underneath you, and you thought you'd upset him with the comment somehow. You were beginning to apologize when he started speaking for himself.

"About tonight-- I think you should skip," he said nervously. "It's just that Gareth invited a bunch of his friends, and I don't want you to be embarrassed."

"Embarrassed of what? Being the hot lead guitarist's girlfriend? Are you kidding me?" You teased, but his face remained stoic. The smile left your lips quickly. "Eddie, you are kidding, right?"

"Babe--" You shoved him off of you, moving to sit on the edge of his bed and put your shoes back on. "Hey, what the fuck are you doing?"

You tied your shoes and stood up, grabbing your bag.

"Talk to me!" He scrambled from the bed, gently holding onto your wrists. "What's wrong?"

"Do you think that I am ashamed to be seen with you, Eddie?" You asked calmly. A long pause passed before he answered.

"No."

"Good. Then why do you keep treating me like some self-absorbed-socially-obsessed bitch who kicks you to the curb?" You took your arms from his grasp, standing still under his gaze.

"B-because you're so pretty and perfect and everybody loves you."

"Do you?"

"Of course I do, baby," he replied quickly, bending down to be eye-level with you. "It's just-- people talk. They're not saying nice things about you since we've been together."

"Eddie, you are the only person in this relationship who gives a single fuck what everyone is saying about us!" You were desperate for him to hear you. "We need some time apart. Fuck. It's not because of status or whatever the fuck it is that you're so obsessed with. It's because you're so far up your ass in self-pity that you can't see how hard I'm trying. I put so much in, Ed. I give and I give and you just deflect it all! You don't think I love you and that hurts. It hurts so bad, because I love you so, so much, and you don't love yourself. I didn't see that at first, but now I do.

"We can't be in a relationship if you don't love yourself. It won't work. You will never trust me like this, and I will never feel like you love me because you don't. In your head there's some secret fucking fantasy battle where you and I are against the entire town like this is some campaign or something. Who cares! Nobody is hurting you or I, and if your feelings were true then you would be able to look past the snide comments about me."

"My feelings are true! That's why I'm so worried about your reputation, because I want to protect you! I'm bad for you, sweetheart." He was crying. Fucking Eddie.

"Bullshit! I'm not in danger. There's no threat to me," you bit back. "You are the only thing hurting me right now. I need to go."

You left his trailer quietly, not slamming any doors or stomping, but Eddie came wailing behind you, throwing the door open so hard that the cabinets opened on the inside of the wall. He followed you to your car, pleading with you the entire way. You couldn't bring yourself to cry. To feel anything. Anger was all that was left, and even that was barely noticeable. You opened the door to your car and he slammed it shut, commanding your attention.

"Please, let me explain myself!" He begged. You turned to face him, sitting on the gravel of the ground outside and looking up with a blank expression, waiting for him to continue. "I-it's just-- shit! I can't believe you would like me. I'm nothing compared to you, can't you see that? You're gorgeous and smart and kind and witty and talented and so funny and charming and I'm not. Put yourself in my shoes, try to see where I'm coming from here."

"It's so obvious that you haven't listened to a word I've said!" You yelled back, frustration rising quickly. "I just told you that the reason we won't work is because you don't even like yourself. I love you! What have I ever done to make you think that I didn't? I say hi to you in the hallways at school every single day, and you don't even glance at me, but I do it anyways, because I love you. I want people to know how happy we are together, but you don't! So stop acting like you're some hero for 'saving me' when I have never asked you to do a damn thing for me."

"Nobody else believes it. That we're together." He hastily wiped a tear off of his face and you watched his sadness turn into anger. "So why should I?"

"They do! Fuck, Munson, are you dense? Everyone knows! Because I have fucking stars in my eyes and mush for brains every time we talk. The soccer team sees us making out under the bleachers everyday. My love for you is so painfully obvious to everybody except you. That's why this isn't working. We're breaking up, Eddie." You stood up, grabbing the handle to your door and pulling it open again, only for him to close it once more.

"We can't break up. Please, I love you! I'm so sorry." His desperation was back again, so quickly you were getting whiplash. You didn't face him, instead just started walking away. If he wasn't going to let you drive, you were going to leave some other way. Maybe Mayfield would let you stay until Eddie calmed down. "Where are you going?" He grabbed your hand.

"I need to step away before I smash my fucking car windows in and break my hand." You tore yourself out of his hold and walked up to Max's trailer, knocking only once before she answered and ushered you in. Eddie was left at the edge of his lot, hands on his face as he sobbed.

"What just happened? Are you okay?" Max asked softly.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Steve Harrington's voice came from the floor of the living room, and you noticed that he, Dustin, and Lucas were all huddled around a coffee table with a deck of cards laid out. There weren't any cars in her lot, so there was no way that you could've known they'd be here. If you had, you wouldn't have come over.

"Shit, sorry." You wiped the tears that had fallen. "No, he would never. I just broke up with him."

"So why are you crying?" Dustin prodded, earning an elbow to the side from Lucas.

"Dude, it's emotional!" He excused.

You ignored the both of them, pulling the curtain back on the small window above Max's kitchen table and noticing that Eddie wasn't in his yard anymore. Now was a good time to go back to your car, you figured.

"I'm sorry for this. Sorry for the yelling, for coming over. Thanks for helping me, I'll see you guys around." You opened her front door and let yourself out, ignoring their protests from behind you and making a beeline to your car. You saw Eddie's figure through the window of his place, pacing up and down. It didn't matter anymore. It wasn't your business. He wasn't you're boyfriend anymore.

The walk was short, and you reached your car quickly, climbing in and peeling out of the trailer park with hot tears running down your face and a pit sitting in the bottom of your stomach. You had nowhere to go.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic

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