#but this is the first time we have seen Eddie interact with May or ANYONE younger than him in the capacity which he did tonight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andvys · 10 months

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We're no good alone | S.H. & E.M.

Part two of It's just us

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! rough smut, threesome, spanking, choking, manhandling, mentions of unrequited love and heartbreak, mentions of cheating, slight angst, fluff, happy ending

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader | slight Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: As you and Steve put your rivalry aside, you grow closer and closer and take another step forward when Steve befriends the man who once broke your heart. @mysticmunson thank you for the idea with the polaroid picture!

Word count: 14k+

Author's note: I'm not too sure about this but I didn't just write 14k words for nothing so I hope you're gonna like it

Read the prequel story about Eddie x reader here -> For me it's always you (more parts coming soon)

stranger things masterlist

Feel free to send in requests for drabbles/blurbs for this fic!

This has to be one of the weirdest days in your life, first you hooked up with Steve after finding out that your boyfriend had cheated on you with his girlfriend and now you are sitting at Benny’s diner, sharing fries with him and drinking vanilla milkshakes as though it’s the most normal thing for you both to do. It’s not. You hate each other’s guts, you always did. The rivalry had already started in middle school and carried on until now.

You were disgusted by everything he said and done and yet that didn’t stop you from having sex with him. You let him take out his frustrations on you and he let you too, it was merely hate fucking, that’s all. Right?

It felt good, he made you feel good. You needed it after what you had run into a few days back.

You never thought that Jonathan would do this to you, that he would hurt you like this but it seems like every guy that you want, doesn’t actually want you. It’s not the first time you have been hurt by men like him, he wasn’t the first.

He may not know it but he ripped open wounds that you had gotten before him.

Why aren’t you enough for them?

What does she have that you don’t have?

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop thinking those thoughts,” Steve sighs.

“How would you know what I’m thinking about?” You snap at him, rolling your eyes.

He chuckles, shaking his head at you, he dips his fries into the ketchup, taking his time to answer the question, he eats the fries and drinks his milkshake.

You have to admit, he looks pretty. His hair is messy from all your tugging, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are filled with.. peace? For someone who just got cheated on, he looks awfully relaxed and content.

“It’s because I’m thinking them too,” he admits, “but don’t think that you aren’t enough, y/n. You are enough.”

You brows knit together, you stare at him without saying anything.

His hazel eyes flash with something unrecognizable, he smiles a little, “anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble as you play with your straw, “you have to say that.”

“It’s the truth. I know you hate me but I’m not lying to you,” he shrugs, clearing his throat, he looks away from you, suddenly too shy to hold eye contact, “we might not get along but you’re not that bad, you know? You’ve been a good girlfriend to him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you being annoying or mean with him, like you’re with me,” he chuckles, eyes raking over your body, “plus, you’re like really hot and pretty and way out of his league.”

A smirk tugs at your lips, his cheeks grow more red as he continues to look anywhere but at you.

“Does someone have a little crush on me?”

He rolls his eyes, “shut up, no I don’t.”

He used to have a crush on you, actually, he was pretty sure he was frozen in place the first time he saw you. 12 year old Steve was pretty sure that he was in love with the pretty girl that just moved to Hawkins after her parents decided to come back from the big city. He liked you but he sure had a funny way of showing it, instead of befriending you like he should have, he pulled at your pigtails and shoved you around.

You giggle as he glares at you. Leaning back in your seat, you look him up and down, “you’re not too bad either but I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.”

He scrunches his face up in confusion, furrowing his brows, “we literally just fucked at the party and then you made me stop the car because you wanted to suck my dick.”

“That was in the past,” you say, blushing.

“That was 20 minutes ago, you let me cum inside you.”

“Well you bend me over the car.”

“Because you asked me to!”

“I like your dick, it’s really big.”

A sharp gasp makes you tear your eyes away from his, looking up, you find a middle aged lady looking at the two of you in disgust. The cross necklace around her neck clutched in her hand, she looks at you in disgust, frowning as she looks between you both.

“Sinners!” She sputters before she continues walking, glancing at you one more time with a horrified expression on her face.

You and Steve look back at each other, only being able to contain the laughter for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. His hazel eyes are filled with amusement, he puts his hand on his stomach as he leans back, “did you see her face?”

You nod, still laughing at the older lady.

“I think she’s gonna go pray for us now,” you giggle.

“It’s no use, we’re already sinners,” Steve snorts.

The ring above the door sounds through the diner, you look behind Steve’s shoulder almost instantly. Your smile falls when your eyes lock with those brown eyes. For a moment he stares at you, not moving, he just stands there and looks at you.

Steve straightens up, face growing serious when he sees the annoyance in your eyes and lingering sadness, your brows are furrowed and you glare at whoever it is that you’re looking at. As he turns around he expects it to be Jonathan but instead it’s Eddie Munson who is receiving the death stare from you.

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. Now that he knows that you have hooked up with Eddie in the past, he can’t help but wonder what else has happened. Clearly, it wasn’t just casual hookups the way you described it earlier to him, you giggled and mentioned it as though it was nothing meaningful but that was obviously a lie.

Eddie is staring at you with his big puppy dog eyes, while you stare at him with the look that only he ever received in the past.

He tears his eyes away from you and they flash with confusion when he looks at him. Steve can imagine what kinds of questions are running through his mind right now, ‘why is she here with him?’, ‘where are Jonathan and Nancy?’, ‘why are they here together?’

It’s no secret to others that you and Steve don’t get along, the whole school knows about your rivalry.

He looks at you one more time before he finally turns away and walks towards the counter.

Steve turns back to you with a curious look on his face, your arms are crossed, your jaw is clenched and you look out the window, blinking.

“Are you… okay?” Steve asks almost skeptically.

“Don’t act like you care, Harrington,” you snap at him again, giving him the usual bratty attitude.

He sighs, rolling his eyes.

“Can you drive me home?”

“No.”

Your lips part, glaring at him, you scoff, “what do you mean no?”

Steve smirks, “say please and I’ll drive you home.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

You huff angrily, rolling your eyes. It amuses him.

“I can walk home,” you shrug. Getting up, you reach for your purse and smooth down your skirt.

“You think I’ll let you walk home?”

“Well, you said you won’t drive me home,” you counter.

“Just be nicer, jeez.”

“I’m not nice.”

He gets up as well and looks at you as he reaches for his wallet, throwing some money on the table, “did anyone ever tell you that you’re a brat?”

You feel his eyes on you and it’s making your skin crawl. You step closer to Steve, batting your eyelashes at him, “can you please drive me home, Steve?” You ask as you reach for his hand.

His lips curl into a smirk, he knows exactly why you are doing this.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He places his hand on the small of your back and looks down at you as he leads you out of the diner, you are not looking at him but he is looking at you, with both a frown on his face and confusion. He doesn’t even notice that Steve is looking, he only pays attention to you.

You let out a loud sigh when you step out of the diner, breathing in the fresh air. Neither of you speak up, at least not until you’re back in his car.

“So.. what happened with you and Munson?” Steve asks, watching the way you tense up, “I thought it was just casual hookups.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eddie Munson was just another boy who broke your heart. Jonathan was the one who put it back together, only to hurt it was well.

You moved on from it, at least you thought you did. Jonathan’s and Nancy’s betrayal wasn’t the only painful memories on your mind the past few days, they also brought you back to him.

Steve tilts his head as he watches you, he will find out what happened.

“So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, getting more comfortable in his seat, he puts his hand on the steering wheel, running his hand through his hair, he looks at his own expression in the rearview mirror before turning to you.

“You do know that we’re gonna be the laughing stock of the school, right?”

You shrug, furrowing your brows you stare at him like you don’t understand the problem. You don’t care about it, you don’t care that people will laugh at you, that they will make fun of you. That is something Steve always admired about you, you just don’t give a damn about other people, you do and say whatever you want, not caring about what others will think or say.

“I don’t want that.”

You snort, “why would they laugh at you?”

Steve sighs again, eyes flashing with confusion, he brings his hand up to his face, cupping his cheek, “we dated two outcasts, two…–”

“Losers? We dated two losers?” You mumble, nodding, “yes we did, they are fucking losers for what they did.”

“Exactly! We got fucked over by losers, y/n!”

“Oh my god, Harrington, do you seriously care about what people will have to say about it? Do you think that I give a fuck? They can laugh and talk shit, I don’t care. I literally just lost my boyfriend and my best friend!” You say angrily, throwing your hands up as frustrated tears well up in your eyes, “my best friend, Steve! She was with me since we were little! I don’t even care about what he did, I’ll move on from that but her? She was supposed to be my friend.”

His eyes flash with guilt but also with sympathy. He lost her too, a girl he thought he would spend his life with but it must be so much harder for you.

“Y/n..”

“What do you want? Do you want to hurt them? Do you want us to be together so you can get back at them?” You ask, “trust me they won’t fucking care, obviously they’re like in love or something.”

You wipe your tears angrily and slump back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, you look out the window, only now noticing the van parked next to you.

“Can you just drive?”

“Yeah.. sure,” he mumbles, finally starting the car. “You think they’re in love?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, rubbing your forehead, “I’m not blind, Steve. I could see the way they looked at each other, I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

Steve swallows harshly, eyes flashing with sadness, “oh..”

“Yeah, oh.”

He thinks about it, is he hurt by it? A little. Is he heartbroken? Not really. He doesn’t understand it, when he first caught them, he threw up and felt like crying his eyes out but now after what happened with you, he suddenly feels… okay.

The car is filled with silence aside from the music on the radio. Too many things are running through your mind as you drive through the empty streets of Hawkins but you try to focus on something else, you try to focus on the fact that you are here with Steve.

Things should feel awkward between you, especially after what happened at the party and here in his car but it doesn’t, if anything it feels natural, surprisingly. Not that you would ever admit that to yourself.

Kissing him, touching him, having sex with him felt nice. Even sharing fries and spending time with him felt nice, it makes you wonder why you ever hated him in the first place, why he hated you.

You look over at him, staring at his side profile. His chiseled jaw, the light stubble on his skin, his stupid perfect hair. Your eyes trail down to his shoulder, his arm and his hand, his veiny hands.

You lick your lips, Steve is handsome, pretty and sexy. You had never seen his beauty before, not until tonight. Suddenly you feel yourself wanting him more. Not wanting this to be a one time thing.

Nancy is an idiot.

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

“We should be friends.”

His eyes widen, he blinks a few times, lips parting and closing again.

“F-Friends?”

“Mhmm.”

He parks his car in your driveway, staring at your house for a moment, he takes a deep breath and turns to you, “friends?” He asks, pointing his finger between you and him, “you want us to be friends?”

“You literally wanted to fake a relationship–”

“Who said anything about fake?”

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “you and I? We would never work.”

“Why not?” He shrugs.

“Uh– maybe because you hate me and I hate you?”

“I don’t hate you,” he scoffs, “I just hate that little attitude of yours, you need to be put in your place.”

A laugh falls from your lips, “yeah well, you’re not exactly brat tamer material, Steve.”

He smirks, eyes twinkling, “oh so you admit that you’re a brat?”

“No..”

He chuckles at the frown on your face, leaning closer to you, he puts his fingers under your chin, “you know what? I can be your friend but please tell me that we can do all this again.”

You bite your lip and look deeply into his eyes, “please.”

His eyes light up, he brings you closer, looking down at your lips. His nose bumps against yours as he smashes his lips against yours. You respond to the kiss with desperation, throwing your arms around his neck, you bury your hand in his hair.

He moans into the kiss, a sound that is enough to make you shiver again.

“Do you wanna come inside?” You murmur against his lips, pecking them again.

“What about your parents?” Steve asks as he continues to steal kisses from you.

“We’ll have to be quiet,” you breathe.

“Can you be quiet?” He smirks as he kisses your cheek, “wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to catch their good little girl getting ruined by Steve Harrington.”

“Shut up, can you be quiet?”

“Let’s find out.”

Your weekends usually consist of movie nights with Jonathan, Nancy and Steve. Getting food at Benny’s diner, sleepovers with your best friend or a shopping trip to Starcourt mall.

You expected tears of sadness and anger for this weekend but instead you got something else.

After spending the night at your place, he took you back to his house the next day. His parents weren’t home, you got the house to yourselves.

You took your frustrations out on one another, he fucked you on every surface of his house, making you forget about anything that ever hurt you. He marked you up, he kissed every inch of your body, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your chest, you gave him some in return, you worshiped him, making him feel something that she could never make him feel.

Steve fucked you like he hated you, probably because he did but you didn’t mind. You felt good and he made you forget, that’s all you wanted and needed.

You ignored Nancy’s and Jonathan’s calls, you expected them to show up at some point but it seemed as though neither of them were brave enough to actually face you, luckily. You didn’t want to see them and Steve didn’t either.

You stayed at his house for two days. Your usual movie night was different this time, Jonathan and Nancy weren’t there and thank god they weren’t. Making out with Steve and riding him on his big sofa was better than watching some stupid movie and cuddling up to your lying, cheating, partners.

You even made use of the polaroid that Steve bought but never really used before.

To say that you had fun this weekend would be an understatement.

But of course, you still hate each other.

When you walked down the hallways at school this morning, all eyes were on you and Steve. For the first time, you walked together, side by side.

It was no secret that you hated each other, you were often found bickering during class, at the cafeteria during lunch and in the hallways. But there you were, walking next to him in your cheerleader uniform, hair perfectly styled and makeup looking pretty on your face, a bright smile resting on your face as you looked up at King Steve, who gave you a cocky smile as he carried your books.

The hickeys on your neck were perfectly on display as were his.

You almost burst out laughing when people started whispering, pointing to the two of you. It was a scandal.

You and Steve had fun with it, especially when you caught the eyes of Nancy and Jonathan, who both stared at you in confusion before they disappeared in a classroom.

You enjoyed the attention and so did he, you were amused by it.

You couldn’t help but wonder what they would react like if you walked hand in hand, while stealing kisses from each other.

Maybe someday..

He should be paying attention to class, he really should but his mind is occupied by you. After spending a whole weekend with you, he had a sudden change of heart. His feelings had developed into something else and it confuses him.

He should be hurt, heartbroken and in agonizing pain. He should be crying and pining after the girl that he thought he loved so much but instead his thoughts are elsewhere.

Maybe you fucked the pain out of him.

He sighs, looking down at his notes, he finds the page blank, he will have to steal them from Robin again.

He looks around, eyes falling on the man that intrigues him ever since he had learned about your little affair. He tried to find out more about your past with Eddie but you always shut down, refusing to talk about it. You seemed hurt, just hearing his name made you tense up. What happened?

You seemed less hurt by Jonathan’s actions than by Eddie’s. What did he do?

“You’ll be working in pairs for this assignment, you can pick your partner.”

Steve looks around, staring at people switching seats. Then his eyes fall back on Eddie, who remains in his seat with his head down.

Grabbing his books, he gets up and walks towards him, settling in the free seat next to him, he slams the books on the table, startling the metalhead who looks up at him in confusion.

“W-What are you doing?” He mumbles, eying Steve with shock on his face, a hint of suspicion in his eyes, like he expects to be jumped by him.

Steve chuckles, “we gotta work in pairs,” he shrugs.

“I always work alone.”

“Well, today you aren’t,” Steve says.

Eddie continues to stare at him with raised brows, looking around, he almost expects someone from the basketball team to stare at him with smirks and anticipated looks on their faces as they wait for the King to pull some sort of prank but no one even looks at him.

“Okay,” he mumbles, turning back again.

“Relax buddy, I just wanna work with you.”

“Why?” Eddie mumbles grumpily.

Steve shrugs, “I just do.”

“Yeah, you expect me to believe that?”

Steve rolls his eyes, he can’t blame Eddie, he doesn’t have it easy at school but he never did anything to him, he can be an asshole but he is no bully.

“Whatever, man. Let’s just work on this assignment.”

“What’s the assignment?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know.”

Eddie huffs, throwing his pencil on his notebook, “aren’t you trying to graduate this year?”

“Aren’t you trying to graduate again?” Steve counters as he slams his notebook open, forgetting about the pictures he had slipped in there earlier. It falls on Eddie’s lap, who looks down at it, eyes widening.

Eddie takes the picture, he stares at it in surprise. His lips part in shock. It’s a picture of someone’s boobs. It’s not a challenge to figure out who’s body this is, he had definitely seen and touched it before, he is pretty sure he has a picture of them too, somewhere.

He can’t see a face or hair in this picture, only the neck and the chest that is littered in hickeys and bite marks, a hand on the lower stomach, fingernails painted black, a pink skirt bunched up at the waist, nipple piercings.

It’s you.

His stomach drops, his eyes flash with anger and jealousy, he doesn’t want it to be you.

Steve watches him in anticipation, he might have done it on purpose, wanting to find out how the metalhead would react to it.

Eddie pushes the picture into Steve’s hand, looking up at him, “who’s that?”

The look on Eddie’s face is almost comical to Steve, his nostrils are flared, lips set in a frown as he stares at him with jealousy in his eyes. Shouldn’t he be used to it already? You’ve been dating Jonathan. Did he ever glare at him? Did he ever stare at him with anger and jealousy on his face? Steve wishes that he would have paid attention to Eddie before.

Steve chuckles in amusement. Putting the picture back into the notebook, he turns to one of the nerds, asking about the assignment.

“Harrington,” Eddie hisses, “who is it?” He asks, despite knowing the answer already. Everything about the picture just tells him that it is you, from the shape of your body to the pink skirt you have worn before.

Eddie continues bugging him throughout the whole lesson, he should be focusing on the assignment but he can’t get the picture out of his mind.

“I thought you’d be able to recognize her,” Steve says smugly, “given that you two have fucked before.”

Eddie wants to ask and say so many things but he is shocked and confused.

Steve is dating Nancy.

You are dating Jonathan.

You hate Steve Harrington, at least you always said you did, was it all just a lie?

Eddie storms out of the classroom the moment the bell rings, he rushes out into the hallway, leaving a smug looking Steve behind.

Skipping the last period seemed to be the best decision to make, it’s the one class you share with both Jonathan and Nancy, you don’t feel like seeing either of them, it’s been difficult enough to avoid them all day.

Sitting on the ground at the library, you’re flipping through the pages of some random book about nature, you tried reading something but your mind is just too occupied by other things, you can’t focus.

“Hey.”

You freeze at the sound of his voice. You raise your head slowly. Eddie Munson. You can’t even remember the last time you had talked to him and you wish it would have stayed that way, you don’t want to talk to him, in fact, you would even rather talk to Jonathan and Nancy, that’s how bad it is.

“What do you want?”

“Can we talk?”

“No?” You snort, rolling your eyes at him, you shake your head in disbelief, looking back down at the book, you flip to the next page, pretending to read.

He sighs, “please?”

“Fuck off, Munson,” you mumble, “you should go before someone sees you with a popular cheerleader, don’t wanna ruin your perfect reputation.”

Eddie scoffs, huffing in annoyance.

“You’re still pissed about that?”

“No, I’m just saying,” you mumble as you slam the book shut and throw it to the ground before you get up, reaching for your book, you walk into the other direction, not bothering to even look at him but Eddie has different plans. He rushes after you, moving in front of you to keep you from walking away.

All he gets is an annoyed look before you turn the other way but he is quick to push you against the bookshelf, caging you against it.

“Are you serious? Let me go!” You whisper, trying to push him away.

He shakes his head stubbornly, looking into your eyes intently.

“What the fuck do you want from me, Munson?”

“Are you still mad at me?”

Your eyes show nothing but anger but you pretend not to be, “no, I just don’t feel like talking to you.”

Eddie Munson broke your heart, hurting you with harsh words and pushing you away just when you had confessed your love for him.

“You’re fucking Harrington?” He asks, completely ignoring your answer.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the look in his eyes is one of jealousy and anger. They flicker down to your neck, staring at all the hickeys on your skin, recognition flashing in his dark eyes.

“That’s what you wanna talk to me about?” You scoff.

You really wanna keep your cool, show him that you left him behind in the past, where he belongs. You hate him. You hate him more than you hate Jonathan who cheated on you, something that you thought would rip your heart out, surprisingly it didn’t but maybe that’s because Eddie had done it for him long before.

What does he even want from you? He hasn’t spoken to you since the night he left you standing in the rain. He was the reason you started dating Jonathan in the first place, you found comfort in him when he had found you crying behind the school weeks after your fallout with Eddie, he comforted you, placed his jacket around your shoulders and asked if you wanted to listen to a tape he had just made.

Jonathan was sweet, he loved music and driving around, taking you to the movies. He did what Eddie used to do, maybe that’s why you liked him so much. He filled the hole that he had left behind.

Something about Eddie has changed, not only do you see a new tattoo peeking out of his shirt, his hair also got longer, he uses a different cologne now, he probably stopped using Wayne’s cologne or maybe Wayne changed his and Eddie is still stealing it. New pins are on his vest and he seems more mature. You know that he is still the same dork as before, still joking around with his friends like a young and careless teen, he still jumps on tables and holds speeches knowing that he will get shit for it afterwards but there is something in his eyes that had changed. A flicker of sadness and emptiness that wasn’t there before.

You haven’t been this close to him since the last year and you hate yourself for admitting that you miss him.

You always missed him. You used to feel awful for still thinking about him when Jonathan kissed you, when he touched you or even when he just held your hand, you always thought about him. The last weekend was the first time that you haven’t thought about him, not even a single moment.

Jonathan couldn’t make you forget but Steve did.

“You’re dating Byers,” he mumbles, “and you’re fucking your best friend’s boyfriend?”

So, word hasn’t gotten around yet? You’re surprised, considering you told Heather about it, not that she’s much on gossip but she tends to have a loose mouth when she’s drunk.

“And so what if I do?” You ask, tilting your head. You don’t miss the look in his eyes when he stares at your lips for a moment.

“That’s not you, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart, god you want to rip your hair out.

“And what do you know about me?” You ask, clenching your jaw angrily.

He grimaces at your question, stepping even closer to you, “I know everything about you.”

“No, you don’t,” you shake your head, “now back off.”

Eddie hesitates, what reason would he have to talk to you? What right does he have to ask you any questions? He was the one who pushed you out of his life, he was the one who rejected you, he was the one who didn’t want you. What a lie. God, you will never know how much he really wanted you, how much he still wants you.

He felt like a goddamn fool when he saw you with Jonathan Byers, knowing that he could’ve been the one by your side, if he wasn’t so scared.

He steps away and drops his arm to his sides, eyes flashing with sadness as you quickly pull away from him. His gaze follows you.

You halt in your tracks, taking a deep breath before you whirl around to face him again. You cannot stand him and his stupid puppy eyes. He looks at you as though you were the one who hurt him.

“To answer your question, no, I’m not with Jonathan anymore and I didn’t fuck my best friend’s boyfriend, she fucked mine. Steve caught them and the next day I caught them as well.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, he looks shocked and confused.

“W-What?” He mumbles in disbelief, “shit, sweetheart. I’m sorry–”

“Save it, Munson,” you scoff, looking away from him as your eyes well up with angry tears.

“Who would cheat on you..”

What is that supposed to mean? Wasn’t he the one who made you feel like you weren’t enough for him?

“Yeah and who would ever hurt me?” You ask as you plaster a smile on your face. The guilty look on his face makes you mad. “Whatever, I seem to be going for the wrong guys all the time.”

He whispers your name.

“But that’s fine, I guess I learnt my lesson,” you shrugs, “I should look for ones that are just as stuck up and boring as me, huh?”

He looks down, feeling ashamed of the words he used to hurt you.

You leave after a moment, storming out of the library. You want to leave him behind just like you want to leave Nancy and Jonathan behind.

But it turns out to be a challenge. You and Steve continue your newly found friendship. Weeks go by and after a few confrontations with your ex partners, they finally leave you alone. You no longer want to resume your friendship with Nancy, she cried and apologized to you, telling you that she didn’t want to lose you but she didn’t do much to prove it, especially when she just started dating your ex boyfriend.

Moving on will never be easy but you have him now. You and Steve still fight, you still use every opportunity to piss him off and in return, he does the same. You love making each other mad, you love heated arguments, ones that lead to sex.

You sneak out of class just to make out with him in the bathroom. Every time he throws you a note, you can feel his excited eyes on you but also the one’s of Eddie, who seemed to be interested to make a comeback in your life.

Not that you will ever let him.

You are focused on other things. Cheer practice, studying, girls nights with friends from the cheer squad and most importantly spending time with King Steve.

You found comfort in each other, maybe you were just no good alone but you like being around him. What starts off with a weird friendship with your enemy ends up developing into something bigger. A few months back you couldn’t even stand being around each other for longer than 10 minutes, now you can’t be without each other. Steve is surprisingly a really clingy guy and you don’t mind it.

After using your parents money to book a vacation, you spend your spring break on the east coast, using fake IDs to buy drinks and using Mr. Harrington’s credit card to rent a yacht. You both have wealthy parents, might as well use their money to have fun.

When Steve had suggested going on that trip, you didn’t expect to come back as his girlfriend but you did and for some insane reason, you love it.

A part of you still struggles to trust his intentions but you still agreed on becoming his.

What’s more insane is the fact that Steve had somehow befriended Eddie. Out of all people he could’ve started a friendship with, it of course had to be the guy that broke your heart. Apparently they had worked on an assignment together and ‘hit it off’. You should be pissed but he doesn’t really know what happened with you and him and you cannot blame him for liking him, Eddie is.. amazing. And Steve deserves to have more friends.

After cutting off Tommy a while back, Steve only really had Nancy, Jonathan and well you. Robin Buckley was one of his friends as well but they only ever hung out at work together, only having brief conversations at school.

For two months, he followed you around like a lost puppy after the breakup with Nancy. Spending lunch with you and your cheer squad instead of hanging out with the guys from the basketball team, why? You will never know, maybe it had something to do with his dislike for Jason Carver or Billy Hargrove but Steve preferred to stick to your side, that is until he and Eddie became friends.

You are not sure which one of them is playing a game though, is it Eddie who uses your boyfriend to sneak his way back into your life? Or is it your boyfriend himself, who is trying to test you to see if there are any remaining feelings left for his new friend?

You did tell him a little about your past but you didn’t want to give away too much, not wanting to admit that he hurt you as much as he did. Steve isn’t stupid though, it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out that what you felt for Eddie was deeper than you wanted to admit.

It also really wasn’t a challenge to figure out that you started dating Jonathan in hopes that he could be like him.

Maybe, he should feel insecure, feel scared and worried that he might lose you to another man just like he lost Nancy but your feelings for him are genuine, even when your mind keeps taking you back to the other man. He can see it in your eyes, though you still act stubborn at times and pretend that he doesn’t mean that much to you, he knows it’s all just an act.

You love Steve in a way Nancy couldn’t and he loves you in a way Jonathan couldn’t.

But there is also someone else that loves you and despite his jealous nature, Steve doesn’t mind it, as odd as it is.

The more time he spends with him, the more he finds a liking towards Eddie, much to your demise. You don’t mind it, you just hate being around him.

It’s been easy to ignore him and his puppy dog eyes at first but once he realized that he is not getting any of your attention, he suddenly became a menace. He went from being apologetic to annoying, real quick.

He uses every opportunity to tease you, making sly comments and trying to flirt with you and Steve doesn’t even seem to mind, if anything, he finds it amusing. Watching his new friend getting on your nerves and getting the treatment from you that only he usually gets.

You should be mad at Steve for letting Eddie treat you like this but you can’t, not when you like it deep down.

Eddie stole the spot that used to belong to Steve, now he is your annoying 'enemy'.

Wherever Steve goes, Eddie goes. Just like tonight.

A date night with your boyfriend turns into one with Eddie as well.

Sitting on Steve’s lap, you play with his hair, occasionally turning to look at the other man in the room, who smokes his blunt and drinks his beer as he talks to Steve about his stupid band that you used to love.

Steve’s large hand is resting on your hip, playing with the soft material of your skirt as he nods along to Eddie’s words.

“Babe,” you cut Eddie off, not even sparing him a glance as you look at your boyfriend, “are you ever gonna order that pizza?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him, “I’m getting hungry and bored.”

Steve sighs, “don’t be rude, he was talking.”

“Who?” You feign, giving him a confused look. Smiling in satisfaction when you hear Eddie mumbling something under his breath.

You smile at him as you lean in to kiss his neck. He takes in a sharp breath, hand gripping your hip tighter causing your skirt to ride up a little. He can’t help but look over at Eddie to see his reaction, just as expected, Eddie is staring at you with such intensity in his eyes that it makes Steve shiver.

“Baby,” he warns but you don’t listen. You never do.

Eddie is both jealous and angry, though he admires the view, staring at your exposed skin as Steve touches your hip.

Steve raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to speak but before he can even form a word, you smash your lips against his, kissing him roughly.

His eyes widen in surprise but he can’t even stop the moan from falling. You throw your leg over his lap and straddle him, placing your hands on his neck and deepen the kiss as your tongue meets his.

Eddie swallows harshly, placing his blunt down, he tightens his grip on the bottle. His jaw clenches and his eyes flash with anger and jealousy. You are doing this on purpose, to taunt him.

He likes Steve but right now, he hates him for being able to touch and kiss you like this, wishing it was him instead. He leans back against the sofa, eyes trailing down to your ass that Steve is squeezing roughly as he starts making out with you. Your skirt rides up further, exposing the black thong that you’re wearing. You’re rolling your hips, grinding against your boyfriend as you moan into his mouth.

Eddie clenches his hand into a fist, tensing up, he shifts around, uncomfortably, your moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears. His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper a small ‘please’.

He would love nothing more than to be in Steve’s place right now. To hold you and kiss you.

Steve pulls away with a groan, “behave yourself.”

A giggle leaves your lips and after pecking his lips one more time, you pull away and settle back on the couch, smirking at the bulge in your boyfriend’s jeans.

He blushes, running his fingers through his hair, he gets up, trying to hide the obvious tent in his pants, “I’m gonna order the pizza,” he mumbles as he rushes out of the living room without looking at Eddie.

You look at the tv for a moment before your eyes find Eddie’s. He is glaring at you. You smile in satisfaction, raising your hand, you look at your freshly manicured fingernails as you begin to hum some song.

Eddie is seething, this is not the first time you had kissed Steve in front of him but usually it was nothing more than a peck.

He scoffs as he raises the bottle to his lips. Right now, he can’t stand you.

He can’t stand the way you look so pretty, the way you sit there looking so innocent after what you just did. He hates the way the room smells like your sweet perfume despite the lingering smoke in the air. He hates the way you hate him.

He reaches for the blunt, placing it between his lips, he lights it up with the lighter that Steve threw on the table earlier.

You look at him, tilting your head, “what’s wrong?” You ask him sweetly.

He screws up his face, shrugging, “nothing.”

You get up and his eyes widen when you walk towards him. He stares at the way your skirt hugs your body perfectly, the way your top slides up your stomach a little, exposing some of your skin, you’re not wearing a bra, he can see your nipple piercings. You lick your puffy lips and lean down in front of him, placing your hand on his knee, you reach for the blunt between his lips.

He gulps, eyes growing wider and breath hitching in his throat. He licks his lips, staring into your eyes as you inhale the smoke.

Eddie can’t even help it, he leans closer to you, placing his hand over yours, his fingertips trace your skin.

You look down for a second, staring at his hand and at his rings, your gaze softens for a moment and then you look back into his eyes.

He whispers your name, you blink, eyes falling down to his lips.

But it all just lasts for a second before you place the blunt back between his lips and walk away from him. Sitting back down on the sofa and looking away with a clenched jaw.

“Sweetheart–”

“Don’t.”

Steve walks back into the room, sensing the tension right away. He looks between the two of you, noticing the anger in your eyes and the longing in his.

He sighs, trying to lighten the mood, he smiles at you, “pizza is on the way,” he says as he settles back next to you, “you wanna watch Halloween now?”

“Sure..”

The graduation party is finally over, you no longer have to listen to the awful pop music, red solo cups are all over the place. Steve’s house is a mess. You’re both lucky that his parents aren’t home until the end of next week.

The night started off well, you got ready in his bathroom, had a few drinks before the party even started and made out with him on one of the pool loungers before the guest started coming in.

Now you’re seething, rolling your eyes at him and scoffing at whatever he is saying as you’re cleaning up the mess. It’s silly, you have to admit and you know you’re acting like a brat for no reason but getting the piss out of him will just always be your thing.

You’re proud of him, you really are. He made it, he graduated, got his diploma and he is free to do whatever he wants now. He doesn’t have to go back to high school, he doesn’t have to see Nancy or Jonathan again. You’re just so scared that he will leave you behind, walk away from you and pretend like you were never a part of his life.

Maybe you are overthinking it, maybe you are just hurt from the men before or maybe you are simply broken.

But right now, you’re angry, especially after seeing one of the girls trying to flirt with him. He didn’t pay her any mind, he didn’t even smile at her or react to the way she was eying him up and down, he politely rejected her and pushed her hand off of his arm and yet it pissed you off, why did he let her get this close in the first place?

“Asshole.”

“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs as he watches you rush past him.

“You heard me!” You snap at him as you slam the door open and walk towards the counter, slamming your red solo cups down, you turn around and open the fridge, getting yourself a cold coke.

“Why am I an asshole?” He asks with a confused and angry face, closing the door to the luckily empty kitchen.

“You let that bitch touch you!” You yell as you close the fridge, glaring at your boyfriend.

Steve knows that this isn’t the only thing that caused this sudden outburst, you have been acting weird and sensitive for the past few weeks.

“Honey,” he mumbles as he takes a deep breath, putting his hands together he walks towards you, “I pushed her hand off, I didn’t even talk to her!”

You clench your jaw, tearing your gaze away from him, you sigh angrily, “yes, you did.”

Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knows that you won’t just drop it, you’re gonna mop around and continue trying to get on his nerves.

“Jesus, I didn’t.”

You stare at him with fire in your eyes. Oh, you’re mad, mad. He knows that there is more behind your anger, it’s not just about that girl, you’re not even the jealous type or maybe you are, maybe you were just too good at hiding it before.

Steve shakes his head, walking towards you, he tries to reach out for you but you push his hands away, “just go to your new girlfriend, you seemed to like staring at her fucking tits.”

You both know that he wasn’t staring at her tits, in fact, he wasn’t staring at her at all. He looked uncomfortable and glanced at you, reaching for your hand, he pulled you in and placed his hand on the small of your back, you were there the whole time. He wasn’t staring, he wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t doing anything.

“Jesus christ,” he sighs in annoyance, rolling his eyes, “are you really starting this again?”

“Starting what?” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest.

Steve’s eyes fall to your chest, staring at your tits.

“Starting some stupid fight just so I will fuck your brains out.”

You tilt your head, scoffing, “why would I want you to fuck me?” You ask him, as though he isn’t your boyfriend, as though you don’t beg for his touches, as though you aren’t obsessed with him.

“Oh, so you’re gonna act like you’re not obsessed with me?”

You scoff, giving him a disapproving look, “trust me, I’m not obsessed with you.”

He rolls his eyes at your words, stepping closer to you, “you’re such a brat,” he says as he places his hands on his hips, looking up at the ceiling.

“You’re the brat, Harrington.”

He looks back down at you with darkened eyes. The pout on your face is cute but the mischief in your eyes irritates him.

“What do you want, honey?”

You shrug, biting your lip, you eye him up and down. Grabbing him by his belt, you pull him closer to you. Instantly, his hands reach for your waist and he pulls you flush against him. Standing on your tippy toes, you lean in and give him a kiss, “I want you to stop being a dick.”

He looks into your eyes and raises his brows, he grabs your jaw, “oh, I’m a dick now?”

“Mhmm, yes you are,” you nod, “you’re a dick, Steve Harrington.”

“And you’re kind of a bitch, honey.”

“No, I’m not. You’re just a real asshole.”

“You always need the last word, don’t you?”

You nod, “you know me.”

He shakes his head, tracing your bottom lip, he looks deeply into your eyes, “tell me, what’s your actual problem? Be honest with me.”

You hesitate. You’re scared of something, he can see it in your eyes. That fear has been there for some weeks now.

Your relationship was just two months old, things were still new for the two of you. You went from disliking each other to loving each other, sure, it was weird for you but not for him. Once he touched you for the first time, he easily grew addicted to you and he found himself wondering why he never went after you instead of Nancy, in the first place.

“You’re leaving me,” you say with fear in your eyes and anger in your voice.

He frowns at your words, staring at you in confusion, “huh?”

“You’re leaving me,” you repeat yourself as you cross your arms over your chest again, pouting at him like a pissed off brat, “you’re leaving me alone with all these assholes.”

Just as you and Steve finally found your way to each other, his time at school is over while you stay for one more year, you are not ready to let him go.

“Oh,” he mumbles, finally understanding what you are talking about, he rolls his eyes at your words and sighs, “I’m not leaving you, honey. I only graduated and the last time I checked, you’re the one who’s leaving me next year, while you go off to college, I’ll stay here and wait for you.”

You squint your eyes at him, “are you?” You counter, tilting your head up, “are you waiting for me or are you gonna find someone else to fuck?”

He scoffs at you, glaring into your eyes, “fuck? Is that all we’re doing here? Fucking?”

You shrug. Maybe. The anxiety of him wanting to do this just to get back at her still lingers.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs, staring at you in disbelief, “baby, you’re my girl. I want you, no one else.”

Your heart flutters at his words, taking the tension off your shoulders a little but you aren’t done yet.

“What about Nancy? Do you still want her?”

He doesn’t understand where this is all coming from, he shakes his head, eyes widening, “no!” He cups your cheeks, “I don’t! Why would I still want her? I want you, only you even though you’re a fucking brat and you get on my nerves all the damn time but fuck, you’re it for me.”

If your past selves could see the two of you now, they would be mortified.

You believe him, you really do. You want to kiss him and hug him, lay your head on his chest and apologize but still, you roll your eyes and look away.

You look away from his hazel eyes, staring at your manicured nails, you shrug, a small sigh leaving your lips.

Steve’s shoulders slump, he loves you but you are so irritating sometimes.

“Trouble in paradise?”

Looking over Steve’s shoulder, you see Eddie standing there with a smug look on his face. He walks towards you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You drop your arms to your sides and step away from your boyfriend, sighing in annoyance.

Right, you forgot that your boyfriend’s boyfriend is still here.

Steve looks intrigued, he wants to see what will happen if Eddie takes his teasing a little further.

You cross your arms over your chest and turn away from both men but Eddie grabs your arm, holding you back, he steps in front of you, “where are you going, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

You furrow your brows, glaring at him, “away from you.”

He coos at you, pouting at your words, “I see, nothing changed. You’re still a fucking brat.”

You scoff at his words, slapping his hand off of you, you clench your jaw in anger. How dare he touch you?

His dark eyes stare into yours, he leans closer, eying your lips for a moment, “poor King Steve doesn’t know how to handle you, huh? He doesn’t know how to put you in your place?” He asks as he reaches his hand out to touch your face, caressing your cheek softly. “He can’t do it like I can, right?”

You blink as you stare into his eyes, shivering at the feeling of his touch and at the sound of his voice. Your knees grow a little weak and you hate the way your stomach flutters at his words. Your boyfriend is standing there, right behind you, watching the scene unfold.

Why isn’t he saying anything?

You scoff, rolling your eyes, you turn away from him as you start blushing because of him, “whatever.”

Steve gasps, eyes widening in disbelief. That’s all you have to say? Whatever? You sure have a lot to say to him whenever you both bicker.

Eddie chuckles as he eyes you up and down, “you wanna be put in your place, huh?”

Eddie wouldn’t say all this to you if there wasn’t so much tension already, the past few weeks have led up to this exact moment.

You don’t say anything, just growing more flustered, not looking into Eddie’s or Steve’s eyes.

Eddie’s smirk widens, he looks over your shoulder, staring at Steve who shakes his head as a small chuckle falls from his lips.

“Do it.”

Your lips part and your eyes widen, you turn around, staring at your boyfriend in shock.

“Put her in her place,” he murmurs as he reaches for your waist, pulling you into him, “tame the fucking brat.”

You gasp at his words, “S-Steve?”

He chuckles, grasping your face in his large hands, he pulls you closer to kiss your lips, “that’s what you want, right?”

You gulp nervously, blinking. You hesitate and take a deep breath.

“N-No..”

He smirks, looking into your lust filled eyes, “come on, don’t lie to me.”

He pulls you tighter against him, squeezing your waist as he steals another soft kiss from you, “it’s okay, it’s just Eddie.”

Eddie, the only man he is willing to share you with.

You can always say no, he makes sure you know that. You can back down but do you want to?

You tear your eyes away from your boyfriend and turn around to face the man you have been avoiding, your eyes lock with his beautiful ones.

No, you don’t want to back down.

Eddie already knows your answer before even asking that question but he grabs your hand and pulls you closer, “do you want it?” he whispers as he brings his hand up to your face, grabbing your chin.

“Yes.” It comes out as a mere whisper, a nervous one.

Eddie smirks and Steve does too but you can’t see him. The man in front of you looks like he had just won the lottery, his eyes light up and he looks happier than he has ever felt before. He grabs your waist and without wasting another moment, he pulls you flush against him and slams his lips against yours.

For the first time in over a year, you finally feel his touch again, his kiss.

He is desperate in the way he kisses you, not caring about your boyfriend who watches it all unfold with awe in his eyes, he doesn’t care about anything but you. He finally has you back in his arms, even if it’s just for this moment. His hands are so delicate on your skin, his lips move so roughly against yours, he savors every second in which you kiss him back.

He doesn’t know whether to smile or to cry but he leaves the latter for when this night is over, now he enjoys it.

A moan, a whine and a desperate whimper from you, and both men that you have wrapped around your finger are rock hard. Eddie deepens the kiss, his tongue meets yours and he groans in pleasure when you bury your hands in his hair, tugging at his dark curls.

God, he missed you so much. His heart, his life felt so empty without you. He wants to kiss you softly, he wants to make love to you and show you how much he misses you but he can’t. You are not his, you will never be his and even when Steve is okay with this, he knows that it’s only just a one time thing, it’s just for sex, for rough sex.

Your boyfriend pulls you back into his chest, forcing you to break the kiss with Eddie, you whine at that action, chasing after his lips. He chuckles darkly, leaning down, he presses his lips against your shoulder, kissing you and nipping at your skin as he pulls the strap of your top down, “you want him, honey?”

Your eyelashes flutter, your lips part and you stare into Eddie’s eyes, watching the way he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, the way he did before but there is more now, something you can’t or don’t want to read because it will make you sad.

Steve’s lips are soft, making your heart and stomach flutter, “it’s okay, you can have him if you want,” he murmurs, “I don’t mind.”

You have questions, so many of them but you don’t bother to speak them out now, instead you find yourself nodding, “I want you both.”

Eddie smirks, eyes lighting up.

“Oh yeah?” Steve whispers, “you want him to fuck the brat out of you, baby?”

“Mhmm.”

Steve leads you and Eddie upstairs and into his room, he holds your hand while you hold Eddie’s, looking back at him to catch him staring at your ass, watching your skirt move back and forth as you walk up the stairs. He licks his lips before he raises his head to look into your eyes.

The moment you step into your boyfriend’s room, you suddenly feel nervous but also intrigued. Steve locks the door and then he walks you over to his bed, pushing you down, he grabs your chin and caresses your cheek, smirking at you and leaning down to peck your lips before he steps away, “you’re awfully quiet, honey. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you scoff.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “Munson, come here.”

Eddie walks over to him, glancing at him, Steve smirks, “she’s all yours.”

You stare at your boyfriend, almost in shock. There have been moments where he got jealous whenever men just looked at you, here he is, giving you away to his friend like it means nothing to him. Which, you don’t actually mind because it’s Eddie. Yet, you glare at him.

“What’s wrong?” He laughs, “you wanted to be tamed and I’m not exactly brat tamer material, isn’t that what you said?”

Eddie looks amused by Steve’s words, he chuckles to himself as he looks at you.

“And don’t act like you don’t think about him, we both know you do,” Steve murmurs as he sits down beside you, bringing his hand up to your face, he cradles your cheek, you still glare at him just like before but now you look flustered, clearly not wanting Eddie to know that you still think about him, “look at him.”

You blink, shaking your head a little.

Steve’s hazel eyes flicker with mischief, lips curling up into a smirk, “you don’t want him to know that you still think about him?”

“Steve.”

He ignores you, “you don’t want him to know that you dream of him?” He asks as he kisses your cheek softly before he turns your head towards Eddie, forcing you to look at him, “I heard you whispering his name the other night, you know?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise.

You grow flustered, both men notice the way you squeeze your thighs together.

“Is that so, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks as he steps towards you.

You look at him through your lashes, ignoring the way he makes you feel just by looking at you with his hungry eyes.

Steve lets go of you as Eddie places his fingers under your chin, “you dream about me, huh?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “you wish,” you mumble in annoyance, “I haven’t thought about you in a long time.”

So you still wanna act like you hate him? Eddie shakes his head, laughing, “a few days is what you call a long time?”

“Not a few days, a whole year.”

He raises his brows, “a whole year, huh?” He asks in amusement, “that’s when you started dating Byers.”

You press your lips together, frowning at him and at your boyfriend who chuckles yet again.

“He didn’t satisfy you enough? You still thought about me?”

“Shut up,” you mumble as you raise your hand and slap his hand away.

His eyes darken and he looks at you in a way that would leave your past self shivering but you are not the girl that you used to be, you are not the fool that was once in love with him, at least that’s what you are telling yourself.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what?”

“You’re a depraved little slut, you know that right?”

You shrug, licking your lips as you feel yourself getting wet at his words.

“You’re sitting here next to your boyfriend, asking another man to fuck you,” Eddie smirks.

“It was his idea,” you shrug, ignoring Steve’s chuckle, “maybe he wants you to fuck him too, maybe he’s a depraved slut as well, just like you Eddie.”

Eddie raises his brows, tilting his head at you as he kneels down in front of you, his gentle hands grasping your ankles, he takes your shoes off slowly.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, “I wasn’t enough for you, you wanted to fuck other girls, not just one other girl, you wanted all of them, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t want me anymore. So, who are you calling a depraved slut? You are the biggest of them all.”

Steve glances at Eddie, noticing the regret in his eyes.

Eddie didn’t want anyone else but you, he didn’t want any other girl, he just wanted you. The things he said to you were nothing but lies, to make you leave, for your own sake.

The tone in your voice is masked with anger but the pain is still lingering.

“You’re an asshole,” you say as you look deeply into his eyes, “I hate you.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, maybe his heart would hurt if he didn’t see the softness in your eyes, you don’t hate him.

“And you’re a fucking brat. A very mean brat.”

He gets back up after taking your shoes off, he puts his hand around your throat, watching the way your eyes widen and flash with lust, you always loved this.

“I bet you’ve been acting like this on purpose, huh? You wanted him to put you in your place?”

You blink, breathing faster as you look up at Eddie, well aware that Steve is staring at you with a smirk on his face.

“Answer me,” Eddie orders.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, what?”

“I’ve been doing it on purpose,” you admit, your cheeks growing hot at your own words, “I wanted him to put me in my place.”

Steve gapes at you, you never ever admit anything like this to him, you never give in, you never let him hear what he wants to hear. You only ever stop acting like a brat after he makes you cum a few times.

You bite your lip, eyes raking over Eddie’s arm, the bracelet around his wrist, the tattoos on his arm, his shoulders that got broader. His hand around your neck, he pulls you up, forcing you to stand in front of him.

He brings you closer until his nose bumps against yours, “poor Steve doesn’t know how to tame the brat, huh?” He whispers against your lips as his eyes remain locked with yours, “it’s okay, that’s what you have me for.”

He kisses you softly, one last time before he rips your top off, throwing it on the ground along with your bra, taking a moment to admire your naked chest, touching your boobs and giving them both a squeeze before he turns you around and shoves you down on Steve’s bed, in front of him.

A whimper leaves your mouth when Eddie reaches for your hips and pulls your ass up, using both hands to tear the skirt into shreds, he rips it off and throws it on the ground.

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise as do yours, you gasp, calling his name loudly.

“What?” Eddie chuckles, “your rich boyfriend can buy you ten more of those, right?” He asks before his palm meets your ass roughly, a loud smack! echoing through the room, followed by a whiny moan.

Steve’s eyes darken and he looks down at you to make sure that you’re okay, pushing your hair out of your face, he caresses your cheek.

“Don’t worry, Harrington. She loves it even rougher,” Eddie murmurs as he smacks your other asscheek, “isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

You moan, nodding desperately as you bite your lip.

He chuckles as he watches you arching your back, your light pink thong is soaked already and Eddie can’t help but moan at the sight of it, he teases you, bringing his fingers up to your pussy, “who are you so wet for? Me or Steve?”

Your boyfriend touches your bottom lip with his thumb, smirking when you look at him with pleading eyes.

You hear Eddie shuffling around behind you, taking his belt off, you already know what he’s about to do and it only makes you feel more desperate.

“Me or Steve?” He asks again, with more anger in his voice.

“Answer him, honey.”

You don’t.

You want him to take it further.

Suddenly you jolt forward and a cry falls from your lips as you feel the leather smacking against your ass, tears well up in your eyes.

“Dude!”

Eddie chuckles at the shocked and angry look on Steve’s face, his body tenses up and he looks down at you with worry in his eyes.

“M-More..”

Steve’s eyes widen, shock ripples through him. He always knew that you were kinky, that you like it rough but not this rough.

“Please.”

“You see that, Steve?” Eddie murmurs as he raises his hand, using the belt to spank you again. The bulge in his pants is growing, his dick twitches at the sound of your moan, at the sight of your half naked body, “she loves it.”

“You’re so fucking dirty, honey.”

“Yes, she is,” Eddie groans.

He spanks you, again and again. And even after he is done, you are still begging for more, despite knowing that your ass will hurt. Steve watches in awe and disbelief, no snarky words or comments leave your mouth, just desperate moans and whimpers.

He swallows, your hand resting on his knee, squeezing it tightly as Eddie takes your ruined panties off and throws them at him, chuckling when he catches them and sniffs at them.

“Perv,” you mumble as you look up at Steve with a smirk on your face.

Eddie reaches for your waist, grabbing you tightly as he manhandles you on your back, he catches the surprised look on your face. Eddie takes his shirt off and throws it to the ground.

For a moment, he lets himself admire you. It’s been too long since he had seen you like this. Your bare body, your soft skin, your pretty hair laying on your naked shoulders, your eyes looking into his with desperation, with a softened gaze he hasn’t seen in so long.

You eye him up and down, you want him just like he wants you. You squeeze your thighs together, sighing when Steve starts playing with your hair, “you look so beautiful, honey.”

“Yes you do,” Eddie whispers, he leans over you, taking the black scrunchie off of your wrist, he uses it to tie his hair back, “you are the prettiest girl.”

Your heart flutters but at the same time, it hurts.

You roll your eyes at his words, clearly not believing a word he says.

“Shut up, Eddie.”

Steve chuckles at your words, while Eddie scoffs, shaking his head as he kneels down in front of the bed, he grabs you, pulling you closer, harshly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and begins to nip at your inner thighs roughly, kissing and biting your skin before he finally tastes you again.

His eyes flutter closed and he moans against you as he grabs your hips tighter than before, slipping his tongue into your wet pussy.

You moan loudly, reaching into his hair, you pull at it.

“F-Fuck!”

Eddie starts to eat you out, more intensely, more desperately than ever before. He needs you, he needs to feel you in every way possible. He grabs your ass harshly, squeezing your sensitive skin as he devours you.

You arch your back in pleasure, feeling his tongue plunging deeper inside of you. You look down at him, eyes locking with his, you allow yourself to look at him, only for one moment before your eyes roll back and you shut them.

You moan even louder than before when you feel Steve’s lips on your neck, his hands on your boobs, squeezing and grabbing them roughly as his fingers toy with your pierced nipples.

Eddie’s nose bumps against your clit as he shakes his head against you, licking and eating you out like a man starved. He shows you how desperate he is to touch you again.

So much pleasure runs through your body, the feeling is euphoric.

“Feeling good, honey?”

“Mhmm, so good,” you whimper.

Steve smirks, he leans down to kiss your lips as he twists and tugs your nipple. You shut your thighs, caging Eddie in and he only moans in response. He licks a stripe up your pussy and begins to flick his tongue on your clit as he pushes a finger inside of you.

“I missed your sweet pussy, baby.”

Not wanting to hear any of his praises, you pull his hair harsher than before as you make out with Steve.

Eddie groans, using his free hand to push your hand out of his hair, he slams it against the mattress and intertwines his fingers with yours, holding it against the bed.

That is too intimate for you, you don’t hold hands with people you don’t love, Eddie doesn’t love you.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against you, kissing your clit teasingly, he glances at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down heavily, your free hand in your boyfriend's hair as you kiss him.

His chest is filled with jealousy, you’re gentle with him, you’re soft with Steve, loving. That’s something he will never get again and it breaks his heart.

Eddie doesn’t stop after making you cum, he only keeps going. Fucking you with his fingers, keeping the rings on because he knows how much you used to love it. He covers your thighs in hickeys, smacking your soaked cunt when you call him names. Eddie is rough with you, he devours you for both yours and his pleasure and he enjoys knowing that not even Steve can make you feel like this.

He loves knowing that he watches you two, that he sees the way you yearn for him, the way you moan for him.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your voice sounds like music to his ears, it makes his heart flutter in his chest.

He only stops when he feels like he might cum before he even gets to be inside of you.

He pulls away and admires the view, watching the way you are shaking, the way your cunt flutters, glistening from your juices and his spit. Your thighs are covered in hickeys, fingerprints on your hips.

Steve is being too soft with you, he caresses your cheek and whispers praises into your ear, as though he wasn’t the one suggesting this. Growing annoyed with the sight of it, he finally takes the rest of his clothes off and flips you over on your stomach again.

“Sit your ass down, Harrington,” Eddie orders, gesturing to the chair in the corner, “watch and learn.”

Steve raises his brows in surprise, his cheeks grow red and it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him or you. You look smug and it only makes Steve blush harder, he rolls his eyes at you as he does what the other man told him to do.

You lick your lips, eying the bulge in Steve’s pants, “take your cock out, Stevie,” you whine, “please.”

Eddie chuckles behind you, you feel the bed dip under you. You swallow nervously, stomach growing tighter at the feeling of his hands on your hips, “listen to your girl, Steve.”

Steve blinks, nodding at his words, “f-fuck.. yeah, yeah..” He stammers, unbuckling his belt hastily, he pushes his pants out just enough to take his dick out.

You moan while Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of Steve’s dick, “holy shit, man.”

Your boyfriend looks smug, smirking as he looks at the two of you.

“Yeah, he is so much bigger than you, Eddie,” you tease, looking over your shoulder with a smirk on your face, “makes me feel better too.”

He glares, holding your hips tighter, “oh yeah?” He murmurs as he takes his hard cock and slips it through your wet folds until it touches your sensitive clit.

“Ah– shit,” you whimper.

“Touch yourself, Steve. Look at her, watch how I ruin your pretty little girlfriend, I’m gonna make her mine again.”

You shake your head in response, wanting to protest but only whimpers leave your mouth when he pushes inside of you, splitting you open. You’re too sensitive, too overwhelmed, too weak already. Unable to hold yourself up, you fall down against the pillows.

“Forget it,” Steve growls as he fists his cock, keeping his eyes on you, “she’s mine forever.”

Eddie chuckles darkly, watching how you struggle to hold yourself up, you whine and moan.

“We’ll see.”

He pushes in deeper, placing both hands on your asscheeks, he spreads them, watching how your wet pussy takes his cock. He moans loudly, eyes fluttering closed, he can’t even help but grin when he feels your walls clenching around him at the sound of his moans.

“E-Eddie,” you whine into the pillow, gripping the bed sheets tightly, “I-I… please.”

He dreamed of this moment, he thought about you day and night while you were apart, he missed this, he missed the feeling of being inside you, of feeling your warm pussy around him, of hearing your moans, he just missed you so much.

“Please what?”

You are drooling all over the pillow, your eyes well up with tears and you can’t stop the whines and moans from escaping.

“Please move, please sir.”

“Good girl,” Eddie grunts as he squeezes your ass, he pulls out completely before he slams back inside of you roughly with a loud moan.

“Ah– f-fuck.. your cock feels so good,” you cry out.

“Oh yeah?” He breathes as he reaches for your hair, tugging at it to raise your head up to make you look at him. Eddie starts thrusting, rougher and rougher. “Look at him, baby.”

Steve jerks off and fuck, he looks so good. He moans loudly, biting his lip as he moves his fist faster.

“Your pussy feels so perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, “so tight and wet for me.”

“D-Don’t stop,” you whimper, “please don’t stop.”

Your juices are slipping down your thighs, your pussy gets tighter around his cock, you feel filthy, especially when you hear the squelching sounds of your pussy as Eddie pounds you into the mattress.

The room is filled with moans and whimpers. Tears are running down your cheeks, your body is already shaking, your next orgasm approaching. The coil in your stomach tightens as he fucks you deeper than before.

“O-Oh fuck, stop clenching around me, I’m gonna cum,” Eddie growls.

You squeal when you feel his hand around your throat. Suddenly, he has you pinned against his back, one hand remaining on your throat while the other roams your body, playing with your tits and sliding down your stomach.

“Honey, you look so fucking good,” Steve grunts, moaning louder than before. He stares at you, he stares at the way Eddie’s cock slides in and out of your pussy, he watches the way tears run down your cheek, the way you hold your hand over Eddie’s, grasping it tightly as you moan louder and louder.

Eddie kisses your shoulder and your neck, “you’re doing so good for me,” he whispers, “are you close, baby?”

“Mhmmm,” you nod desperately, “s-so close.”

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes, Eddie! Please!”

He looks over at Steve, “should I let her cum?”

Steve nods, looking just as desperate as you, “yes, fuck.. Let her cum.”

You feel him twitching inside of you, he is close, just like you, just like Steve. Eddie whimpers into your ear, his fingers reaching down to rub your clit, he grasps your chin, looking into your eyes before they flutter shut, “cum for me, baby,” he whispers before he slams his lips against yours.

Unlike the other kisses before, this one is soft and sweet, enough to transform tears of pleasure into tears of sadness.

You gush around him, cumming for the last time this night. Eddie moans against you, unwillingly breaking the kiss. You push away from him, letting yourself fall back down just in time for him to pull out, with a groan, he releases all over your ass and back.

You shut your eyes, whimpering at the sensitive feelings rushing through you.

“Fuck,” he whispers, a happy chuckle leaving his lips.

You try to catch your breath, try to stop the tears from falling, you don’t want him to see how vulnerable you are, how hurt you still are by his past actions but you missed him so much and you feel ashamed for it because you know that this means nothing to him, just like it never meant anything to him back then.

Your boyfriend is here, the one that you love with all your heart even when you haven’t told him yet, too scared of rejection, too scared of being pushed away by him the way you were by the other man.

You don’t know how long you’re laying there like this but the feeling of Eddie’s hands on your skin, the feeling of him cleaning your back gently before he presses a soft kiss to your bruised ass suddenly makes you cry harder.

Soft sobs leave your lips as all your feelings come catching up to you.

Steve’s eyes flash with concern, he looks at Eddie, who suddenly looks like a deer caught in headlights as his face grows pale and his eyes show nothing but panic.

Steve rushes towards you, using his throw blanket to cover your bare body, he pushes your hair to the side and touches your back softly, “honey,” he whispers, “what’s wrong?” He asks in concern.

Eddie doesn’t even bother to put his shirt on, standing there in nothing but his jeans, he stares at you as his heart begins to race.

Steve kisses your shoulder, your arm, your knuckles and then your cheek, “talk to me, baby,” he whispers, “are you hurt?”

Eddie puts his hand on his forehead as tears well up in his eyes, did he take things too far? Did he hurt you?

You shake your head, “no.. I’m not, I’m okay.”

He should feel relieved but he can’t, not when you are crying after you just had sex.

Your glassy eyes meet the ones of your boyfriend, your bottom lip quivers as you stare at him, you push yourself up a little, clutching the blanket against your chest, “d-do you love me?”

Your voice sounds broken, small and vulnerable.

Steve has never seen you like this. His heart squeezes in his chest and he furrows his brows, he nods, cupping your cheeks, “of course, honey. I love you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with truth, “I love you so much.”

Your eyes flash with relief, you nod, “thank you.”

He frowns at your words, not understanding why you are thanking him for loving you but it quickly catches up to him when he looks over your shoulder, eyes locking with Eddie’s tear filled and guilty ones.

You loved him and he didn’t love you back.

At least that’s what you believed.

Eddie looks heartbroken, he looks sad and he looks like he hates himself because he pushed you away before. He loves you, he is in love with you.

Eddie’s bottom lip quivers just like yours does, he blinks, trying to push the tears back as he reaches for his shirt, throwing the black material over his head.

Steve feels a sudden longing for the man in front of him, not wanting him to go, not wanting him to leave you again.

“I’m gonna go,” Eddie mumbles quietly.

Steve can see the way your eyes flash with sadness, the way your body tenses. He doesn’t want you to hurt, he doesn’t want Eddie to hurt.

Steve wipes your tears away and he looks into your eyes. You love Eddie, maybe that should scare him but it doesn’t because he knows that you love him too and that’s all that matters.

“Don’t go.”

Eddie looks at him in confusion, “what?”

“Please don’t go,” Steve says, “come here.”

Eddie hesitates, he looks at the back of your head, your quiet sniffles break his heart all over again.

“It’s okay, Eddie.” It’s okay to love her too.

Eddie nods, walking closer to you, he looks at you with sad eyes, watching the way you clutch Steve’s hand tightly as you cry. Tears stream down your face just like they did back then.

He sits down beside you, reaching out to touch your shoulder but you flinch away from him.

He closes his eyes, sighing deeply.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry for everything, for what I said. I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Steve rubs the back of your hand, squeezing it tightly.

“Lying?” You whisper.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, “I lied to you about everything that night. I didn’t want anyone else, there was never anyone else, there was no other girl, ever. You were always the only one for me, you still are.”

You furrow your brows, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You feel relieved but angry at the same time.

“Those things I said about you, I didn’t mean them. God, I was so stupid. I wanted you so bad, still do,” he says as tears run down his cheeks.

You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but the truth.

You still long for him the way you always did, you still want him, you still love him.

You love them both.

“I was always so crazy about you, fuck– it hurt so much to push you away, sweetheart,” he whispers.

“Then why did you?” You ask in a broken whisper.

“I didn’t want to ruin your life.”

Your heart breaks but the anger is stronger.

“But you did, you did ruin my life. You broke my heart.”

Regret and guilt is what he felt for so many months after he had pushed you away but especially now that he has to look into your tearfilled eyes.

“I-I’m so sorry, I regretted every single day,” he whispers, scooting closer to you. He reaches his hand out again, this time, you don’t flinch when he touches you, he cups your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes.

“I love you.”

You sniffle, more tears well up in your eyes as you finally hear those words that you have craved so bad.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“Y-You do?” You whisper.

He nods, smiling as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, “I do.”

Steve can’t even help it, he looks down at your hand that is still holding his tightly, he smiles.

Maybe this isn’t ideal but it works for him.

Eddie grew on him, he didn’t understand just how much he did but he doesn’t mind, especially now when he sees the happy look in your eyes, when you still hold his hand as you let Eddie wrap his arms around you.

You bury your face in the crook of his neck and squeeze him tightly as he holds you, cupping the back of your neck and breathing in your scent.

You are happy with him but you are even happier with Eddie back in your life, that's makes it all worth it.

As Steve watches the two of you, he knows that everything is going to be okay because at the end of the day, you all have each other.

No more pain, no more broken hearts or any missing pieces.

You got each other forever.

tagging my faves <3 @littledemondani @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @aftermidnightwriting @bimbobaggins69

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steddie x reader smut

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matan4il · 1 year

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Buddie 613 meta

We now know that the man who risked himself to get Buck out of the line of fire during the shooting arc is Jeshan, which means ‘clear’ (if you’re interested, you can find more name meanings for 911 characters here). So let me just giggle for a second about the fact that 911 had once again reunited Buddie with a character who can be referred to as Captain Clear Me(h)ta. Coincidence? IDK. But I have to admit, it kinda made me reflect back and feel nostalgic. When I first started watching the show, I had no intention of writing meta for 911, but after going ballistic when 309 aired, I knew I would HAVE to use the s3 hiatus to write down all my thoughts about everything Buddie related so far. That’s what I did, I wrote and shared my baby, my first round of Buddie meta. That’s where it was supposed to end, but then people asked and encouraged me to write meta for the eps in 3b as they would air, too. I figured I could try, and that’s how my Buddie weekly meta posts were born. At the time, there was no one else writing proper weekly meta (I don’t mean a summary/review of the ep, or meta posts that stand on their own, but proper analysis on Buck, Eddie and those who matter to them, organized and serialized for each ep as it aired). And now, I’ve been writing them for almost 3.5 seasons. And I feel like they’ve inspired others to do the same. TBH, I can’t actually remember seeing weekly meta posts in other fandoms (maybe they exist and I just haven’t come across them, IDK). So I got all emotional, thinking about how these posts may be love notes to Buddie and the show, but most of all they’re a love letter to the wonderful people who have been supportive and encouraging, who’ve been reblogging the posts, who’ve been commenting on them and telling me that what I do makes a difference for them. Thank you so much, these posts wouldn’t exist without you. You have a much bigger impact on the fandom than you might have realized! So if Captain Mehta is indeed a nod to the meta, it’s a loving, appreciative nod that belongs to all of you. ~~

When Chim shows up to escort Hen to work, he ends up sitting down for a talk with Denny instead, and I really enjoyed this scene, it was lovely, but it also once again emphasized the difference between the firefam kids’ relationship with their parents’ colleagues and the r/s Buck and Chris have. Chim talks to Hen’s son when he happens to come across the kid, but he only sits down for a proper conversation because Denny implies Hen and Karen are up to something intimate, and Chim shouldn’t interrupt them just yet. Consider how different that is to how Buck intentionally looks to spend time with and dedicated to Chris! And then Chim is impressed by how smart Denny is. It’s cute, but it also reveals just how little they interact that this comes as a surprise to Chim. It’s so different to the intimate familiarity of a parent, which is what we know Buck has with Chris (and that Chris has with Buck, which can even be seen in the kid’s teasing, for example regarding the snoring in 414). ~~

You might have seen that, when the promo came out, I momentarily lost my sanity and posted this. I just couldn’t get over the fact that they actually had Eddie correct the chief on the duration of Buck’s death. It was such a spouse thing to do. It was a declaration about the anguish that each single second represented, when Eddie couldn’t breathe because Buck wasn’t. It was a confession of sorts, on how Eddie felt as he desperately NEEDED his husband to live (I’m not even joking when I ascribe him this title, Eddie said with his whole chest, “THAT IS MY IDIOT HUSBAND THAT I HAD TO WATCH DIE FOR THREE MINUTES AND SEVENTEEN SECONDS AND I WILL NEVER FORGET ANY OF THOSE SECONDS, NOR LET ANYONE ELSE DO THAT”). It was a glimpse into how time must have moved differently for him as each second etched itself forever into Eddie’s mind. And yes, it’s a clear parallel to 413, when we witness time slowing down for Eddie. And I mentioned in my post that in both scenarios, Buck is just out of his reach, so close, but simply not close enough. In one case, this forced Eddie to believe he must now accept his own death. In the other, he couldn’t accept the possibility that Buck would die, so he just fought harder, and if he couldn’t save Buck with one course of action, he tried another, Eddie just had to keep going, 'coz the idea of those three minutes and seventeen seconds turning into an eternity? Unacceptable. ~~

But notice in my unhinged post from that day, I used the word ‘counting.’ Eddie counted the seconds, and this is revealed to us at a poker game where Buck is counting the cards. I already noticed that when we saw the promo, but this connection was reinforced in the ep itself when Chief Williams vocalized what Buck was doing. The thing about counting is that it’s reserved for what matters, what’s crucial. Buck is counting the cards in order to win, and he wants to win because it matters to Eddie. Buck wasn’t the one who initiated the search for a poker game where he could use his newfound skills, Eddie was the one to take that initiative. And he could bring Buck along without telling him where they’re going (I would normally scream for a whole separate paragraph just about Eddie telling Buck to dress nice and there being no need for any further explanation or prompting, but we were so well fed, I’ll have to scream about it into my fist for just one sentence) 'coz Eddie was so sure his husband would go along with whatever crazy scheme he’d come up with. And he was right, even though Buck didn’t think it would end well, he still went along with what his husband wanted. Please let me reiterate: Buck’s counting cards because Eddie is so important to him, and Eddie was counting the seconds because Buck’s his vital sign. ~~

Another thing to keep in mind about the poker game is that the only other time we’ve seen Buck playing poker was in 312. In that ep, Eddie was off to meet Christopher’s school teachers (leading to his eventual lackluster r/s with Ana), so having a free evening, Buck spends it with Maddie, Chim and Josh (and is told he unequivocally sucks at Poker). Jokes were made about setting Josh and Buck up, and it was implied whatever Buck’s sexuality was, that was not the reason why Maddie abstained from making the match. What I find interesting is seeing how far our boys have come! In that ep, they were operating separately, and it led them down the wrong paths.

In this ep, Buck and Eddie were inseparable both as a couple (even sharing the winnings from Buck’s new talent, because what don’t these two share? And I was particularly chewing glass when Chief Williams asks Buck how he wanted HIS winnings, but instead of answering her, he looks at his husband. THEY ARE SO FREAKING MARRIED), and as a family unit with Chris (which is maybe a good moment to point out that all of the romantic couples were paired off in 613, and so were Buddie! Now, one could argue that Buck and Eddie were paired off because, well... who else is left for them to hang out with? But 312 is a reminder that when the show wants to, it can push the main cast and minor characters into the same orbit, so it still didn’t HAVE to pair Buck and Eddie off here. It chose to. On top of that, by showing them with Chris as well, 911 reminded us they’re far more bonded than just two best bros hanging out together ‘coz none of their other friends are single). In short, during 312, Buck lost and Eddie was about to be lost on a detour in his romantic journey. In 613, they ARE a family, they work as one throughout the ep, not just in parts of it, and they’re both winning. ~~

Something that gets to me is that when I first shared the BTS pic of Buddie at the poker game, it was clear that Eddie was just bursting with self confidence. He looked like he would be the star of that game. But when we got the promo, we discovered that it was actually going to be Buck who would shine that night. So what makes me slightly froth at the mouth is that all of that sexy confidence we picked up on in the photo? It was real. We weren’t wrong. It just wasn’t confidence that Eddie had in himself, it’s confidence he has in Buck. All of his swagger? Is a reflection of how much he believes and enjoys seeing his husband be a star. I am gonna need 3-6 working weeks at least to recover from knowing this. ~~

Speaking of things that destroyed me forever, everything about the Buckley-Diaz family in this ep falls into that category. I mean, not only did we once again have incredibly domestic scenes, we had one that was very reminiscent of the lasagna one in 601 (Eddie with Chris at the table, Buck fussing around them only to join in once he brings along something to be consumed), reinforcing that this is THEIR NORM, we also had Eddie and Chris being so cute and supportive when it comes to Buck’s new ability (Chris calls him a superhero, Eddie goes along with it, and when Buck’s upset he didn’t get a better superpower, naming some he would have liked to have, Eddie comforts him by saying those other options sound horrible).

And then to top it all off, we had Buck and Chris cooking together. Bobby’s been explicitly acknowledged as basically being Buck’s dad by both of them, and we know Bobby’s been teaching Buck how to cook. Now we get Buck doing the same with Chris, clearly marking them as father and son, especially since this is done with just the two of them, this special time that’s allocated just to their bond together. Eddie is not needed as a middleman. I know that this isn’t news, but every single time the show reinforces this truth, that Buck is Christopher’s other dad, that their bond is that deep, I gain 10 years, so I have to mention it. ~~

For 613, I made my weekly gifset about Buck and answers, but I’d actually like to elaborate on what you see there. In 602, at the happiness center call, we see Buck looking to Lev in search for his own answers on what his happiness looks like. When he still can’t find any, he turns to Hen, because she always has them. Along this season, that’s been his theme. He’s trying to figure out what he wants in order to be happy, which is connected to the couch theme we’ve all been screaming about since 601 (and especially after he fell asleep on Eddie’s in 612). In 613, Buck suddenly finds that he’s the guy with the answers and he likes it. But has he really got them? Buck says these words to Eddie and Chris, and in addition to that, while he utters them, he’s literally captured in the same frame together with Eddie. But it’s also essential that we heard why Chris can’t just be given the answers. It’s in order to learn, Eddie tells him. That’s exactly what Buck has to do, he has to find his answers in order to learn from the search process. He’s not just there yet, but the framing of the whole scene coupled with the ongoing couch theme is very loud. ~~

What gets me maybe most of all in a whole ep of REALLY GOOD BUDDIE CONTENT, is the way the whole thing wraps up. The storyline on Buck’s new abilities doesn’t end with any commentary on those or on his recovery process. His last scene in this ep is the one with Chris. It follows directly the one with Hen and Karen, a scene which reminds us that we’re never surprised at either woman spending solo time with and caring about Denny, even though neither is biologically related to him, because they ARE BOTH his parents. In the same way, it’s only natural that we see Buck spending alone time with Chris, without Eddie around. It is so meaningful that the last shot of Buck in this ep is not about his story line at all, and neither his abilities, nor having died for several minutes is the point. Instead, the last, and therefore most significant shot of Buck in this very Buddie domestic ep, is him smiling at their son. I feel like that says everything about his trajectory.

~~ (my weekly meta posts) (my Buddie gifs) (all of my content)

~~ My tag list will follow in the reblog, please let me know if you wanna be added/removed here.

~~ Thank you so much for reading and for any reblog, like, comment or supportive tag! Also, HUGE thank you to @whosoldherout. On top of real life stuff, she makes her own amazing gifs AND helps make these posts so much better. She’s the one with the real superpowers!

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 spoilers #evanbuckleyedit #eddiediazedit #christopher diaz #wm #911edit #buddie gifs #buddieedit #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

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chvoswxtch · 2 years

Text

i'm not above begging. (1/?)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson desperately needs to graduate this year, and you're the only tutor that hasn't turned him down.

warnings: mentions of drugs, cursing

word count: 2k

a/n: this was initially going to be one post but then I got carried away and suddenly was at 2,081 words (oops) so i'm thinking this is going to be at least 3 parts? i've been day dreaming about eddie munson since may & re-watching one tree hill and this idea popped in my head and i had to write it down. this is my first time writing in awhile, so i'm a little rusty. all feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

The tutoring center at Hawkins High was relatively quiet for a Thursday afternoon. After the winter finals wrapped up, things had slowed down quite a bit apart from the regulars that came in for their weekly sessions. But with spring break and final projects coming up in a few weeks, it was only a matter of time before students began flocking in desperately seeking help to reach a passing grade. That’s where I came in.

I had been working in the tutoring center since my sophomore year. Everyone always told me I was good at it because I was a very patient person, but I honestly really enjoyed it. Every time I could see a student starting to really get it, I could see that little light bulb go off in their brain, it made my chest swell with pride.

I was organizing a few review tests when I felt something touch my shoulder. All the neatly stacked papers in my hands went flying, and a shrill scream ripped through my chest at the surprise intrusion. I clutched onto the open file cabinet that was beside me and whipped my head around, my wide eyes settling on the tall figure that stood in front of me.

Eddie Munson.

His large, ring-clad hands were immediately held up in surrender, a look of shock etched onto his own features. I was pretty sure his startled expression matched my own.

“Whoa..easy there. I didn’t mean to scare ya. I uh..come in peace.”

There was a timid smile stretched at the corner of his mouth, his dark brows lightly furrowed as he studied my face. A solid minute passed before I realized I hadn’t moved. I was still in shock, and well, possibly having a heart attack. It wasn’t that I was scared of Eddie Munson, not like a lot of the student body at Hawkins High, I was just shocked to see him in the tutoring center. In the two and a half years that I’d worked here, I had never seen him. Not even once.

I’d heard the rumors about his supposed “devil worshiping” club, and about how he was a “dangerous” known drug dealer. I never really bought into it though. Eddie and I had never really interacted before. We were in completely different classes, and social circles. He didn’t really hangout with anyone that wasn’t in his Hellfire club. But I had seen him a few times in passing, and saw the way he was when he interacted with his friends during lunch. Nothing about him screamed dangerous to me. I always thought he was just..different, and definitely had a flair for dramatics.

“Oh, no no, I’m sorry. You didn’t. I mean you did. But..only because I didn’t hear you come in.”

Once I could no longer hear my heart pounding in my ears, I tried my best to appear as casual as possible. Clearing my throat, I crossed my arms over my chest and peered up at him.

“Um what..can I help you with?”

Eddie shoved his large hands into his front pockets, cursing under his breath. He flashed me an apologetic smile and began to fish around in his back pocket before he retrieved a crumpled paper ball, raising it up into his fist victoriously with a grin.

“Aha! Found it.”

He unraveled the paper and did his best to smooth it out, flipping it upside down and clearing his throat dramatically.

“I am looking for…Y/L/N, Y/N.”

His head swiveled to survey the empty tutoring center before his large brown eyes met mine again with a kind smile.

“Any chance you know where I can find them? It’s uh..kind of important.”

“Oh um well..that’s me. Hi.”

Before I could stop myself, my hand raised up to do an awkward wave. My cheeks instantly heat up with embarrassment. Hi? Seriously? That’s what you went with?

Eddie’s eyes wandered over my figure quickly, his eyes meeting mine once again with a quirk of his brow.

“Oh..well, that was easy.”

I stood there silently for a moment, lightly clenching my fists at my sides. This was the closest I had ever been to Eddie Munson before. I had never gotten to look at him properly, not up close like this. Why did I never notice how attractive he was? I didn’t feel scared in his presence. I just felt..nervous. But I wasn’t exactly sure why that was.

“Um so..why are you here? I meant..um, why are you looking for me?”

My voice came out higher than usual, and I instantly wanted to bang my head against the nearest heavy object. Eddie eyed me silently for a moment, sighing as he shoved the paper back into his pocket and pursed his lips. He twisted one of the large rings he wore around his index finger, his eyes darting around the tutor center before finally landing back on me.

“Okay, here’s the thing. You’re my last resort.”

“Oh.”

“No no no, fuck. I didn’t-I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not that..you’re my last option or anything, you’re just my last choice. Hope! I meant hope. Fuck. This is all coming out wrong.”

Eddie closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a huff of exasperation. He quickly spun around on his heel and made a beeline for the door to the tutoring center and exited swiftly. I stood dumbfounded in place, staring at the spot he once occupied, trying to decipher what the hell had just happened. Suddenly the door to the tutoring center swung open and Eddie walked through with a playful grin on his lips, stopping directly in front of me.

“Let’s start over, shall we? You’re Y/N Y/L/N, tutor extraordinaire. I’m Eddie Munson, and I desperately need your services.”

Placing one of his large hands on his stomach, he did a quick bow, and I couldn’t help but let a quiet giggle escape my lips. This seemed to catch his attention, as he looked up at me with a full blown grin, seemingly proud of himself for getting a laugh out of me.

“Wow, Eddie. I didn’t expect you to be so..formal?”

Eddie stood up straight and placed his hands on his hips, tilting his head to the side as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. An action that my brain has permanently burned into my memory.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you sweetheart. I need to graduate. I can’t stay in this shithole for another year. And as long as I can pull a D with Mrs. O’Donnell, I’m on track to finally get the fuck out of here. But, here’s the problem. I fucking hate her class. It’s so boring! I mean..I would literally rather watch paint dry. So technically, it’s not my fault I keep failing because if the class were, ya’know, a little more exciting, I might actually be able to pay attention. See, I'm a victim here, okay? A victim of this oppressive and soul crushing system that is Hawkins High. Now look, I have tried everyone. And I mean everyone, okay? Mrs. O’Donnell has assigned me every tutor known to humankind and they either flat out say no or just give up so I’m really banking on you here. And look, I’ll even pay you! I’ll be on my best behavior, I swear. Scouts Honor. Just please..please help me. I’m not above begging here. I will literally get on my knees right now and-”

“Eddie!”

My hands darted out to grab onto his biceps as he began to lower his body. The worn leather of his jacket felt soft under my fingertips. My eyes lingered over the various pins and additions he had added to it. The denim overtop was worn and faded, there were light tears and a few loose ends. I was quite impressed by it though, knowing that he had taken the time to put it together himself. I could tell how much work he had put into it, how much it meant to him.

“I’ll do it.”

“What? Really? Holy shit, you..you are a literal angel!”

I felt myself suddenly being lifted off the ground as a strong pair of arms wrapped around my waist. It took a second to register that Eddie Munson was hugging me. Not one of those awkward, half-hearted hugs you feel like you have to give. But a real hug. The kind of hug you give an old friend you haven’t seen in years. My hands gripped onto the shoulders of his jacket and I giggled at his excitement.

“Eddie, put me down! Please, I’m afraid of heights.”

He swiftly set me on my feet with a chuckle, taking a step back and beginning to wave his hands around dramatically.

“Sorry, sorry. I got carried away. Look uh, name your price. Whatever you want, I’ll pay it.”

“Eddie, you’re not paying me. It’s my job, I’m happy to help. I do have a few ground rules though.”

“Alright, sure. Lay ‘em on me.”

“First things first, you have to take this seriously. If we’re going to do this, I need you totally focused. No distractions during our sessions. I know you have your club, and I’ll be respectful of your time dedicated to that, but if you start falling behind and we need extra sessions, I need you to put your school work first. Second, please always be transparent with me. If you need a break, tell me. I don’t want to push you past your limit. If you’re going to be late, or there’s an emergency and you can’t make it, please let me know as soon as you can. And lastly, please don’t ask me to do your work. I’m here to help you, not do everything for you. Don’t even try to bribe me. The answer will be no. Deal?”

You’d be surprised how much I had to emphasize that last part. Over the years, so many people have tried to get me to just do the work for them. They didn’t see me as a resource. They saw me as a transaction. Surely the girl with straight A’s wouldn’t mind doing the work they can't be bothered with. The popular crowd was the worst about it. They thought their parent’s money and social status could buy them anything. Sometimes it made me angry whenever their words would replay in my head. But that anger usually subsided into hurt. Most of them couldn’t even be bothered to remember my name. I was just “tutor girl” to them.

But you’re so smart, it’ll be easy for you! I’ll make it worth your while. If you do my homework, I’ll invite you to the party this weekend. You can sit with us at lunch if you write this paper for me. I’ll put in a good word for you with one of the guys on the team. C’mon tutor girl, everyone has a price.

I wasn’t necessarily “popular”, but I definitely knew a lot of the popular kids. I was practically the reason some of them were able to still do extracurriculars. I spent most of the time in the tutoring center, and when I wasn’t doing that I was helping out with ‘The Weekly Streak’ school newspaper with Nancy Wheeler. Nancy and I had met towards the end of my sophomore year. I had interviewed for a spot on the paper after my guidance counselor had told me tutoring wouldn’t count as a “club activity” on my college applications. After my prolonged sulking, I decided the school paper was the lesser of all high school club evils. Nancy and I had instantly clicked, and had only gotten closer over the years. She and Robin were the only real friends that I had.

I held my hand out and looked up at Eddie with a shy smile on my lips, awaiting his answer. He cocked his head to the side slightly, eyeing me as if he was contemplating my conditions. Always a dramatic. Suddenly, a huge grin took over his mouth and his large hand captured mine. The warmth from his skin spread like wildfire all over my body and eventually settled in the pit of my stomach. My grip tightened slightly on his hand in reaction to the sensation. What the hell was that?

“Deal.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #nancy wheeler #robin buckley

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qprstobin · 4 months

Note

"there's no evidence that tommy and carol bullied anyone" so publicly humiliating nancy by spray painting nancy the slut wheeler on the hawk sign was just what. because steve implied that was their idea and they did it. you don't just go from never bullying anyone to doing some real diabolical shit like that so. sure steve never bullied anyone but you're reaching trying to extend that to tommy especially. don't forget how easily he got chummy with the racist the following season and joined in gleefully bullying steve

I'm not excusing the graffiti, but I don't think spray painting the slut graffiti as revenge because they (wrongly) thought Nancy cheated on Steve makes it bullying lmao. Bullying is repeated and targeted. One instance is not bullying. I also think "diabolical" is doing a lot of heavy lifting there. Like what they did was cruel, but diabolical? Graffiti and spreading rumors is like the most typical "get revenge on your/your friend's shitty ex" thing you could do, they just did it in public instead of like the school bathroom. Public shaming for cheating is SUCH a common trope, like do you know how often I see that "WELCOME HOME CHEATER" meme? I'm not saying that makes it right, because it doesn't! But it also doesn't make them evil?

Like I never said that Tommy and Carol are nice lol. They're asshole teenagers! That's canon! Steve calls them out on that and breaks ties with them because of it! But being a dick teenager does not make you a bully, all teenagers are dicks lol.

I also think interpreting Tommy's scenes with Billy as that is in bad faith personally. Homeboy is in like two scenes with Billy - one where Tommy is clearly trying to make Steve jealous, and the other where he is making fun of Steve for his gf once again supposedly cheating on him. The gf that Steve dumped his friends for, after she supposedly cheated on him the first time.

And yeah Billy is racist but y'all are acting like? Everyone in the show should automatically know that? How? The racist shit Billy says on screen is mainly to Max, and later in the show where he actually attacks Lucas. There's a good chance that Steve didn't even realize that Billy's attack on the kids was racially motivated until after the fact.

Considering that Billy literally doesn't interact with anyone but his coworkers and Karen in s3, and the fact that Tommy does not actually seem to like violence that much or at least seems to have a limit! Considering how he reacted to the fight in s1 (going from "hell yeah a fight to oh fuck shit is serious"), I don't think Tommy stayed friends with Billy after season 2 lmao. Like idk I did not get the impression that Billy had any friends in s3.

You're accusing me of reaching but saying stuff like "no one goes from never bullying anyone to something that diabolical" isn't? My whole point has always been that he may be a dick, but there's nothing to show him being anything other than a stereotypical class clown type douchebag lol. The Party's fucking bullies threatened them at knife point. Billy bashes a plate over Steve's head and tries to run the kids off the fucking road with his car. The Angela storyline was so extreme that it was unrealistic and is almost an universally hated part of the season. Tommy makes some mean comments, gives Barb a wet willy, and then rubs it in his ex best friend's face that someone has taken his place and that his gf is cheating on him. Like, the graffiti was bad and Nancy should've probably slapped all three of them not just Steve, but it was a petty and misguided revenge scheme, not bullying.

I think if Tommy was intended to be an actual bully the way fandom pretends he is, we would've seen more of it on screen. If Tommy and Carol were so cruel to the whole school, Robin and Eddie would've said something about it? But they don't! The Duffers are SO blatant about how they go about things, I think if they were truly meant to be bullies, they would've been way more obvious about it lmao.

Like, think what you want! If you wanna headcanon them as being an actual bullies, that's your prerogative. But it's not actually canon.

#asks #anon #anonymous #fandom wank #like yeah we can all make assumptions and come to our own and differing conclusions based on canon #but you also have to be realistic about what actually is in canon lol

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waywardrose-archive · 1 year

Text

THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY | 8

stranger things | eddie munson x reader | rated e | 8.9k

spotify playlist | for @punk-in-docs

fem/witchy/goth!reader, magic, slow burn (for me), friends to lovers, no y/n only pet names, series-typical horror, period-typical sexism and homophobia, historical inaccuracies and anachronisms, drug dealing and use, smoking, alcohol use, masturbation, fantasizing, one-bed trope, making out, fingering, dirty talk, consensual pursuit and capture, oral sex, handjobs, condoms, piv sex, reader’s father is a dirtbag, mild spanking, tags will be updated as needed

Eddie would have to wait until his lunch break to see this new, hot, weird chick. He wondered which flavor of weird she was. Art weird? Theater weird? Band weird?

Weird weird?

He shrugged. He liked weird.

In other words, you’re the new girl in town, and Eddie is intrigued.

note: This chapter’s got everything: fantasy sharing, insecurities, intimacy, horrible parents, Capri-Sun, and smut! �� Check the #em tagd tag ⬇️ for previous chapters! Please comment (or critique), like, and reblog. I truly do appreciate any and all interaction. I promise I don’t bite — unless you want me to.

Eddie sat across from you in another diner for second breakfast. The sun blasted through the thin cafe curtains to warm your side. He’d said little during packing or check-out. Your gaze kept snagging on his. He’d present a quirk of his lips. You’d grin and go back to whatever you were doing.

He appeared to be mulling over something. You doubted he regretted having sex. You certainly didn’t, even though you felt deliciously used. Maybe because you felt deliciously used.

When the waitress took your order, you opted for coffee — just like Eddie. She returned with an insulated carafe, mugs, and creamers.

With a gentlemanly flourish, Eddie said, “Milady, may I pour you a cup of our finest bean juice?”

You smiled.

“Why, good sir, I’d be delighted.”

He left enough space at the top of the mug for cream and sugar. As you seasoned, he poured for himself. You watched his nimble fingers as he went about seasoning his coffee. Your gut tightened as you remembered those fingers had made you come, those hands had cupped your breasts. You watched his lips as he swallowed. You had kissed those lips. You had sucked a faint hickey on that neck.

Before he could catch you staring, you sipped at your coffee. You met his gaze over the rim, though. Light reflected off the table, causing his eyes to turn mahogany. You’d seen those eyes dark and hazy with desire.

You wondered if he had the same thoughts as you. Did he keep picturing you under him? Had he memorized your sounds? The way his come looked on your skin?

His stomach gurgled, which made you both laugh.

“Guess pop and chips don’t last long,” he said, hand over his stomach.

“We burned a lot of calories this morning.”

He gave you a devious smirk.

“We did.”

You found his leg under the table and crossed your ankles around it. He pressed his calf to yours as he drank his coffee.

You were nearly at the Indiana border when he lowered the music to half-ask:

“This is going to sound stupid, but that wasn’t your first time.”

You laughed — short, but loud. “No, obviously.”

“Then I gotta ask: Is it always like that?”

“Like what?”

“Intense? Hot?”

From anyone else, you’d think that flattery. From Eddie, it felt genuine. It was still flattering, of course. You liked the thought of rocking his world.

“Could ask you the same,” you said as you took off your sunglasses since the sky was becoming more overcast the farther east you drove.

He adjusted his position in his seat, putting an elbow on the windowsill. He’d also blocked the view of his crotch with a lifted knee. You changed your grip on the steering wheel as tension rose.

“For the record, no,” he said. “I’m not, uh— I’m not the most experienced guy.”

“I’m not the most experienced girl.”

“So, you’re saying we lucked out back there?”

“Or maybe we lived up to each other’s expectations?”

“You had expectations?”

“I told you I’ve fantasized about you.”

“What do you, you know, fantasize about?”

There had been so many in the past few weeks. From rough to tender. Sometimes it wasn’t even about sex. Sometimes you thought of sitting with him and talking. Just talking. Maybe holding hands. Those scenarios didn’t turn you on, per se. They were a comfort, especially after the nightmares of red lightning and cold soot and chittering of unseen predators. Nightmares where vines wrapped around your limbs until you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Nightmares of mental vivisection. Nightmares as warnings.

You couldn’t tell him that. There was nothing he could do about them. Only you could face those dreams, because they had a message you alone could decipher.

But dreams had meaning, and he’d had dreams about you.

You asked, “What about those dreams I supposedly invaded?”

“No suppose about it. You had.”

“Had. Past tense.”

“And will again. Believe me, this entire trip is gonna haunt me.”

You wouldn’t forget this trip for a long time, either — maybe ever. However, the way he said it had a touch of grief.

“You make it sound so... grim?”

“Look, we’re going back to Hawkins...”

“‘There is no real going back,’” you said, quoting Tolkien. “‘Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same; for I shall not be the same.’”

You glanced at him again to see his fist pressed to his mouth.

He finished the passage:

“‘I am wounded with knife, sting, tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?’”

You sighed. “Do you want to go back to how it was? Like we’d never done it?”

“Hell no.”

“Then why are you talking like things won’t be different in Hawkins? We’re different now.”

He was silent for too long. You looked at him once more. He stared out the windshield, face blank. You steeled yourself for his excuses to rationalize rejection, fishing a Djarum from the fresh pack and sticking it between your lips. He pushed in the car’s cigarette lighter for you.

Softly, he said, “It’s not that I don’t want it to be different, but I’m trying to be a realist here.”

“Oh, so you’re the only one with that capability in this car?”

“No, what I’m saying is the reality of being together in front of the whole school isn’t good. For you.”

You shot him a glare.

“The fuck?”

“No, hear me out. In Chicago, we’re just people. There’s no baggage. There is baggage — capital-b baggage — in Hawkins.”

The cigarette lighter popped, ready. You snatched it from the dash before he could and lit your cigarette.

“I get it. People are dicks—” You shoved the lighter in its holder. “—And you’re being one right now,” you said, cracked the window, and exhaled.

“I am trying to protect you.”

“By pushing me away?!” Your fists strained around the steering wheel. “Dammit, Eddie, don’t you get it? I want you! I want to get to know you and talk about stuff. And watch stupid TV.” You waved a hand in the air. “And, okay, have sex when we can. I...” You took a long drag from the cigarette to keep from crying. “I don’t care if the whole school knows about us, alright? We know about us.”

He crossed his arms.

“I’m not pushing you away.”

“Sure sounds like it.”

“It’s hard to forget a lifetime of bullshit.”

“I’m not asking you to forget it,” you said as you ashed the cigarette through the open window.

“I know, okay, I know.”

He retrieved a Djarum. You offered yours to light his. He took it with a ‘thanks,’ pressed the cherry to the unlit cigarette, and handed it back.

You said, “I know you’re an outcast. I pay attention at school, you know? I’m not deaf or blind.”

“Or stupid.”

“Neither are you.”

You smoked and navigated the interstate off-ramp and tried to think of something to soothe both your ruffled feathers. Evidently, he had been thinking the same thing, because he grumbled:

“I guess nothing has to change.”

“Right? You have lunch with your friends. We go to O’Donnell’s class. We hang out after school—”

“That’ll be different.”

“That bad?”

“No.”

“Cool,” you said. “And sometimes I go to The Hideout to watch you play. That’s it.”

“When would you want to... you know?”

“Whenever we can?” You shrugged and ground your spent cigarette in the ashtray. “My parents have date nights. What about your uncle?”

“He works second or third shift.”

“See? We’ll be together when we can.”

“But you get where I’m coming from, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” You looked to see his expression had softened. “I know you want to protect me, but I’m not one of your little sheep. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to.” You held out your hand, which he took. “I’m not new at being a weirdo.”

You threw him a wry grin.

He deposited the butt of his cigarette in his empty soda can, leaned closer, and brought your hand to his lips for a kiss.

You smiled at him.

“So, you told me about a dream,” you said and wet your lips. “The one where O’Donnell is Samwise. What about another?”

“Shit, I... I don’t really remember. That one stood out.”

He was blushing and too still, which most likely meant he was lying.

You gently withdrew your hand, saying, “Tell me about the latest one.”

After a beat, he said, “You know those dreams that are jarring? Like a bunch of snapshots pieced together? It was like that.”

“Scary or sexy? Or both?”

“Sexy. Deeeefinitely sexy.”

“Okay, and...?”

“I woke up— Shit.” He rubbed his face. “I was so hard.”

You bit your lip as heat spread through your body. You pictured him like that: in his dark, messy room, waking with a gasp, his cock throbbing and oozing.

“What did you do?” you asked.

“I jacked off.”

His ‘duh’ was silent, but undoubtably there.

Despite the brief retort, you grinned.

“To what? What did you imagine?”

“Fuck, baby.” He put a hand between his legs. “You, okay? I thought of you.”

“Was I naked?”

He hummed. “Naked, your ass bouncing against me.”

“I was riding you?”

“No, bent over. I held your forearms and fucked you from behind. Shit, I...” His breathing deepened. “I got my dick in so deep, and you squeezed around me, moaning for it. And I pushed you down. Your ass in the air for me.” He covered his eyes. “I spanked it, too.”

“I’d let you do that,” you said as your cunt pulsed.

“Yeah? You into that?”

“With you, yeah.”

“Yeah, holy shit, we can do that. I came in you, too. Watched it drip out of your little pussy.”

You whispered, “Fuck.”

You squirmed in your seat, underwear stuck to your now-wet slit. That had been more than you thought you’d hear. You could see it, too, almost feel it: his pelvis slapping the underside of your ass, his cock ramming deep, his strong hands on your arms, then at the center of your back, then cracking against your upturned ass.

“I shouldn’t have told you that,” he said. “But I really can’t say no to you.”

You met his eyes, his gaze dark and hungry. You must’ve looked the same, because he cursed.

“Come home with me,” you said and forced your attention to the road.

“Wha—”

“Come home with me. My parents won’t be back until tomorrow night.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

You frowned. Most guys would’ve jumped at the chance to have sex again. Did he think that wasn’t on the table? Because that was very much on the table. If he told you to pull over and get in the backseat, you would. There hadn’t been another car on this stretch of road in nearly ten minutes.

Perhaps he had deliveries to make. It was Saturday night, after all.

“Only if you want to, of course,” you said, giving him an open look. “I get it if you’ve got plans or whatever. I can take you home.”

Ahead, leaden clouds gathered. A storm was settling in. If he were to make deliveries tonight, he would get soaked...

Eddie hoped it wasn’t obvious he couldn’t take his eyes off you. It probably was, though. You had a glow. Your eyes shone in the midday light, lips still puffy. There might be prettier girls out there, but they couldn’t compare to your radiance.

No one had kissed him like you kissed him. You made him feel like his thoughts had been put in a blender. He felt invincible yet defenseless, accepted yet under scrutiny, but most of all treasured.

He didn’t know if that was normal. His parents hadn’t seemed to treasure each other. He thought Wayne loved him. He loved Wayne. His flock looked to him for guidance. His bandmates treated him as an equal. None of that compared to what he felt for you.

He didn’t know if he liked it, honestly. It disrupted everything. You’d occupied his thoughts before this. Now, he feared, you would dominate them.

Then what would happen when you discovered he was trailer trash?

You’d feel sorry for him, that’s what. Oh, poor Eddie living in a one-bedroom trailer with his uncle.

Fuck that. Fuck pity. And fuck fearing heartbreak.

Fear was the mindkiller.

The look you gave him begged him not to hide even as you rolled back your offer of another night together. He didn’t know how long you’d think that. It didn’t matter, either. That wasn’t up to him, however much he wished it were. You weren’t a character in a campaign.

“No, no plans,” he said as he scrubbed damp palms on his thighs.

“Oh, okay, well... I can still take you home.”

The first heavy drop of rain pinged on the roof.

“Wayne can pick me up from the park.”

“Eddie, it’s starting to rain.”

He knew that. He could see the freckled pavement and how dark clouds obscured the sun.

You turned on the headlights, saying, “It’s no big deal.”

Big deal or not, he’d look like a crazy person if he insisted you leave him at the park. In the middle of a storm. With no ride waiting for him.

He had to be strategic here.

“No, let’s go to your house,” he said. “I’ll give Wayne a call when we get in.”

You nodded.

“If that’s what you want.” You gave him a sweet smile. “I just want to spend more time with you.”

Jesus Christ, he couldn’t deny you. Not when you said adorable shit like that. Not when you were the first person to say anything like that to him. Not when the possibility of having you all to himself was available.

He cleared his throat, wishing he had more to drink.

“I wanna spend time with you, too.”

You looked at him again, your gaze so warm. That alone made whatever would happen in the future worth it.

Twenty minutes later, you drove past the Hawkins welcome sign. The storm let loose shortly thereafter. Instead of continuing east, you turned into the older section of Loch Nora, where brick houses sat back from the road and the utility lines were buried. Eddie’s spidey senses started tingling. He tried to recall ever having driven through this part of the neighborhood and found a vague sense of familiarity.

Richie Riches liked their nose candy, after all.

The wipers sloshed across the windshield. Beyond the windows, rain melted the light and blurred architecture. It didn’t change his awareness of how out of his element he was.

He wondered how he hadn’t noticed you were a rich girl. He’d been mindless to the Munson Doctrine, because ladies — especially pretty, smart, funny, rich girls — shit, he was screwed — like you were out of his league. It all made sense, too: moving from New York, the expensive cigarettes, your gently used car — which had probably been a parent’s — and your lack of a part-time job. You’d offered to buy drinks for his bandmates at The Hideout. You’d paid for the motel room, gas, and snacks. You hadn’t even blinked at prices or told him to put food back at the convenience store.

You turned onto a circular driveway. Ivy climbed the side of a sprawling red-brick house. An old oak grew nearby, its golden leaves scattered over the manicured grass. Eddie tried not to gawk at the three-car garage tucked to the side as you hit the door-opener remote.

The garage could accommodate his entire trailer.

There were two open bays, and you pulled in next to a glossy maroon sedan.

“Well, this is me,” you said, and turned off the car.

As nonchalantly as he could, he said, “Nice.”

“If you want, you can call your uncle.” You pointed to the interior door. “Phone’s in the kitchen next to the fridge.”

“No, I’ll help.”

“Oh, cool, thanks. I need to check the mail. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded and began gathering the food wrappers and empty drinks into a plastic bag. You left the driver’s door open before dashing to the mailbox. He shook the car’s ashtray into the bag, looked at the tidy garage, and cursed. He was so out of his element, beyond the edges of the map.

Here be dragons.

Here be the loaded.

Who were about as dangerous as dragons.

He hadn’t realized he’d stilled until you returned and closed the garage door. To act normal, he continued gathering until there was nothing more to gather. He shouldered his duffle and carried the plastic bag, following you into the house—

Which smelled of citrus and laundry detergent. The tile floor gleamed under the kitchen lights. Everything was so clean and proper and spacious. Floofy valences capped the windows. Paneled appliances blended with the cabinetry. The refrigerator had a built-in icemaker.

Your voice pulled him from touching the lever for ice.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you thirsty?” you asked — again.

“No, I’m good.” He glanced around, looking for the trashcan. “Need to throw this away,” he said as he swung the plastic bag.

“Yeah, of course!”

You took it to the sink cabinet, where you pulled out an under-counter trashcan. He watched your ass, but averted his gaze before you turned to him. The blinking 02 of the phone’s answering machine caught his attention.

He thumbed at it, and asked, “You want to check those?”

With a sigh, you dropped your bags on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“I guess I better.”

The first message was from your mother, dated yesterday at 4:18 PM. She reported they’d arrived without a hitch. With excitement growing in her voice, she said they were having dinner with Jerry Springer. However, she was concerned you weren’t home and gave the phone number and address of the hotel. The second message was from a telemarketer.

You grinned.

“She gave me all that before they left. I’ll talk to her after you call your uncle.” You bit your lip as you looked around. “Do you want to get settled first?”

“Up to you, milady.”

“C’mon, I’m on the third floor,” you said as you plucked your bags from the island.

“Your tower.”

With a laugh, you asked, “Ah, but am I a wizard or a spider?”

“Well, neither’s as hot as you, so there a third option?”

You hummed as you turned off the kitchen light. “You tell me.”

Only your silhouette was discernible in the gray murk, as though you were made of shadow. There was something mysterious and alluring about that. It made him want to reach into the darkness to feel what reached back. Rain drummed against the windows, tapping a persistent rhythm and softening the edges of the silence.

“Siren,” he said. “Definitely a siren.”

You blew a laugh through your nose as you stepped closer. “What does that make you?”

He thought, A sucker, a sailor, yours, ensnared.

He said, “I’ll get back to you about that.”

“Please do.”

You were now near enough to touch, so he did. He cupped your cheek, his thumb skirting the corner of your mouth. Your lips parted, and he couldn’t stop himself from caressing the curve of your bottom lip. Your beautiful eyes gleamed like glass.

He couldn’t believe you let him touch.

You leaned in and tilted your face to his. Your overnight bag nudged his leg, setting off a chain-reaction of memories. He’d kissed you in public. He’d shared a high with you. He’d lain next to you in a foreign bed. He’d chased you, caught you, and carried you back to that same bed — where you’d clawed at him and moaned his name and came on his dick.

He could have that again.

He met you midway, kissing you once, twice. He tasted smoky clove and soda on your tongue, smelled the rain in your hair. It was addictive. He wanted more. He dropped his duffle to snake an arm around your waist and pull you even closer. You swayed against him before dropping your bags. Your hand slid under his jacket, pushing away his previous uncertainty.

After a long, heady moment, you broke the kiss with a sigh. Your hand remained on his back while the other held the side of his neck.

Voice low, you said, “Let’s go upstairs.”

Staying just as low, he said, “Yeah, call your parents, and I’ll call my uncle.”

“And then...”

You shrugged.

“And then,” he agreed.

He didn’t know what then, but he wanted to find out. He grabbed his duffle and your overnight bag from the floor, which you thanked him for. You led the way through the shadowy house to the grand staircase in the foyer. With your back turned, he let himself finally gawk.

Outside the kitchen, the floors were dark hardwood with lighter area rugs to define the spaces. The living room had a big-screen TV tucked into a corner with a velvet modular sofa oriented towards it. In the dining room, an honest-to-God crystal chandelier hung above the large table.

The second floor was as cushy with thick carpet and tasteful art. Not a family photo to be found. You pointed out your bathroom before opening the door next to it and flicking a switch at the foot of the stairs beyond. Golden light brightened the white stairwell.

He climbed the stairs behind you as the automatic door closer fizzed the door shut. He’d half-expected your bedroom walls to be some dark, moody color, yet they were white. However, posters covered most of the white, much like his own—

Though your room smelled better than his.

You clicked on the lamp by your big bed and on the dresser across the room before setting your purse on the desk under the wide window. His eye caught on the stereo cabinet between the dresser and double bookcase. He itched to peruse your vinyl and tape collection. You must’ve seen it on his face, because you smiled and gave him free rein.

“You sure?” he asked, dropping the bags near the bed.

“Yeah, go for it,” you said. “I’ll call my mom while you shop.”

He checked the time on the bedside clock. It was early afternoon despite it looking almost night outside. Wayne wouldn’t be awake for another hour.

“Cool.”

He crouched in front of the cabinet as you slipped off your jacket and sat at the desk, where a phone waited at the corner. He concentrated on the music in front of him while you talked on the phone. There was Bowie, classic Zeppelin and Rolling Stones, Deep Purple, INXS, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Cure, Cocteau Twins, Depeche Mode, Sisters of Mercy (of course), Bauhaus, Metallica, Dio, and a bunch of indie goth bands.

Your voice sharpened, catching his attention.

“I told you I forgot to check the messages when I got home from school,” you said.

A male voice snapped through the phone. Obviously, your father.

“I stopped by the convenience store after school.”

Your father replied, though Eddie couldn’t make out the words.

“No, I wasn’t being irresponsible.” You rested your forehead in your hand. “I just didn’t check the mess—”

Your father interrupted, his voice getting sterner.

“Apologize to Mom for me, plea—” You took a deep breath as he interrupted again. “No, I didn’t—”

Your father said something to make you shoot to your feet, chair scraping across the floor.

Eddie straightened and took a step to you.

“I didn’t sigh,” you said. “I breathed. I do that sometimes, like—”

Your father’s voice became louder as he cut you off, ending the scathing reprimand with a ‘young lady.’ A panicked feminine voice said something in the background.

You were quiet for a beat.

Your voice was thick as you said, “I’m sorry. I was stupid and didn’t take you or Mom into account. I apologize, sir. Sincerely. It won’t happen again.”

Your father grumbled, sounding appeased.

“I’ll see you tomorrow— Yes, sir.” You nodded. “Good night, sir.” You slammed the phone’s handset on its base. “Asshole.”

“You okay?” he asked, which he belatedly realized was dumb.

Of course, you weren’t okay.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, ducking your head. “Call your uncle, if you want.”

You darted around him, too quick to stop, and rushed down the stairs to leave him gaping like a fish.

As the door shut, he didn’t know if he should follow. Maybe you needed a minute to yourself. When things were rough for him, he preferred to handle the aftermath alone. It gave him privacy to get his shit together.

He picked up the phone’s handset to call Wayne, which should give you enough time.

Instead of a dial tone, there was a garbled, muddy babble. It wasn’t words, per se. It was rhythmic, like a busy signal, but also an echo of language. Or a backwards phrase repeated.

“What the hell?”

He hung up and tried again, yet the babble remained. He pressed the hook switch a few times, though it didn’t solve the problem. Unplugging and re-plugging the phone didn’t help, either.

With a huff, he slung his jacket over the desk chair and went to the second floor to find you. A wedge of light from your open bathroom door illuminated the landing. You whined a curse and banged a small bottle against the side of the faucet.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said gently and reached for the bottle. “Let me.”

“Fucking childproof caps.” You stilled as your chin wobbled. You looked at the ceiling with watery eyes. “My head is killing me.”

He withdrew the bottle from your limp hand. It was a nonprescription painkiller. He lined up the triangle notches on the cap and bottle and popped it open.

“I should’ve taken something when we first got in.”

“You’ve had a headache this whole time?” he asked and shook three pills into his palm.

You croaked a ‘yeah’ and took the pills, putting them on your tongue and swallowing them with a mouthful of tap water.

At a loss for words, he put the bottle aside and pulled you into a hug. You rested your hot cheek on him and looped your arms around his middle. Your chest shuddered with sharp inhales. He rubbed your back, wondering why he hadn’t noticed you weren’t feeling well earlier.

Probably because he’d been too in his head about his insecurities and the possibility of future disasters.

“Dads are dicks,” you said once your breathing calmed.

He grunted in agreement. “Tell me about it.”

“He’s so concerned about me embarrassing him — embarrassing him more. Or doing something, I don’t know, just for me?”

Your father sounded like a controlling asshat.

“You’re not embarrassing. You’re the coolest person I know.”

Voice small, you asked, “Really?”

“Absolutely.”

You gave him an affectionate squeeze that he returned.

He said, “You missed a phone call. It happens all the time.”

“Yeah.”

“I can sleep through the phone ringing.”

“You’ve never missed my calls.”

“Of course not. I have a sixth sense about these things.”

You snorted. “Naturally.”

“Naturally.” He swayed you a little. “Uh, speaking of: your phone’s acting up.”

“Acting up?”

“Yeah, dial tone’s weird.”

“Huh.” You loosened your hold, yet kept your face tilted down. “It’s a new phone. Maybe I broke it.”

“I can use the kitchen phone,” he said.

“No!” You hugged him again, though your fingers now dug into his back. “No, it’s okay. I’ll fix it or replace it. Then you call your uncle while I get us something to drink.”

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed your forehead.

“Hey, whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You sighed, sounding content. Tension drained from his neck and shoulders. He didn’t like you upset or in pain.

“Okay, phone,” you said despite not moving.

“Gonna have to let go of me first.”

You made a disgruntled sound before sliding your hands away. Your fingertips found his skin between his waistband and the hem of his shirt. Goosebumps rose at your easy caress. His gut tightened, too.

He leaned back to get his hands on your jaw and eased your head up for a kiss. Conscious of your headache, he stayed gentle. He brushed his lips across yours, nudged your cute nose with his. You grinned against his mouth. He opened his eyes to see your face relaxed.

Sounding dreamy, you whispered, “Thank you.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“Yes, you have.” You looked into his eyes as you pulled away. “You have.”

“Then you’re welcome,” he said, grinning.

With a smile — a tired smile, he noted — you took his hand to walk him out of the bathroom, turning off the light as you went. He trailed after you and felt like a puppy. Granted, if he had a tail, it would be wagging.

Once in your room, you crawled under your desk to mess with the phone wall jack. You muttered to yourself, but he didn’t catch the words. He sat at the foot of your bed and stared at your upturned ass. It was a nice ass. He’d like to touch it again — maybe when you felt better.

You shuffled from under the desk and lifted the phone’s headset. The regular dial tone droned from the speaker.

“There,” you said and got to your feet.

“Wow.”

“You sound surprised. Like a girl can’t fix things.”

He held up his hands.

“No, that’s not—”

“Did you think I couldn’t handle it?” you asked, your eyes sparkling with humor as you approached.

At your teasing manner, he spread his knees and urged you close by the hips.

“Oh, baby, I know you can handle a lot.”

You bit your lip, looking pleased, and smoothed his hair from his face. He let out a deep breath, letting his eyes go half-mast. You yawned suddenly and covered your mouth, then wiped at an eye. It smudged your eyeliner a little, yet it hardly mattered. You were perfect and sweet.

“Sorry,” you said as you suppressed another yawn.

He turned his head to bury his own yawn in his shoulder.

“Want to take a nap?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Get in bed, then. I think I can figure out where you keep the drinks.”

“Call your uncle.”

“I will, sweetheart.”

He backed you up, stood, and gave you a quick kiss. You made a satisfied sound before kissing him again.

His heart couldn’t take this. It absolutely couldn’t. You were so adorable when sleepy. And he wanted to make you feel good any way you needed, any way you’d let him. He’d make you tea, fetch you extra blankets, rub your back, fork over his whole damn stash. Fucking anything. Anything.

He left you perched on the bed with the assurance he’d be right back. He made a pit stop in the bathroom to pee and wash his hands. In the kitchen, he found Capri-Suns in the fridge and grabbed a couple.

By the time he returned, you’d turned off most of the bedroom lights and were sitting in bed. He dumped the Capri-Suns on your nightstand save for one, stabbed the straw into the pouch, and gave it to you.

You thanked him and snuggled into the pillows.

He snatched a Capri-Sun for himself and turned away before he did something ill-advised, like kiss you too hard or propose marriage or worm between the sheets and yank your underwear off and eat you out until you cried. Maybe all three.

Instead, he drank his juice while calling Wayne, who sounded as if he’d been awake for a while. Wayne didn’t seem surprised when Eddie said he was at yours and would stay the night. Wayne asked for your number in case of an emergency. He recited it from memory.

Wayne reminded him to use protection.

He sputtered and averted his face as heat crawled up his neck.

He then cleared his throat before saying, “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“Good. No mini-Munsons just yet.”

“No, not yet.”

“Alright, kiddo, keep that thinkin’ cap on, and I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“‘Kay.”

Wayne ended the call, and he placed the phone’s handset on its cradle.

“Your uncle sounds nice,” you said.

“He’s a good guy.” He sat at the desk to slip off his boots. “Took me in when no one else would.”

“Their loss.”

He looked at you, finding you curled on your side and watching him.

“That’s what he said.”

You gave him a wry grin.

He remembered ‘two idiots, one thought,’ and grinned.

After stuffing his socks into a boot, he stood to undo his belt and unclasp his wallet chain. He lay his wallet on your desk and piled his jewelry on top, feeling your gaze the entire time. He draped his belt over the chair, turned off the last light, and came around the bed.

As he lifted the blanket, you rolled onto your back and asked:

“Aren’t you going to take off your jeans?”

“Do you want me to take them off?”

“I want you to be comfortable.”

With a shrug, he said, “I’m comfortable.”

“Eddie... I’ve seen your legs before.”

“And a whole lot more.”

“Yeah, so take them off and get in here.”

“Yes, milady.”

He left his jeans in a heap on the floor and slid under the blanket. It was already warm and smelled like you: your soap and shampoo, your perfume and musk, your laundry detergent, and that dark headshop scent. The sheets were soft as only fine cotton could be. The pillows were fluffy like his hadn’t been in years. He hardly needed to adjust anything.

You asked, “Comfy?”

“Almost.”

Your brows pinched.

“Almost?”

“Back to me,” he said. “If that’s cool.”

You gave a little nod, the corners of your mouth curling up, and faced away. He closed the short distance to mould himself against your back; a hand on your hip with his other arm crooked under his pillow. You stiffened, yet didn’t protest.

“This okay?” he whispered.

“Mm-hm.”

Little by little, you relaxed and adjusted your legs. He matched your even breathing until his eyelids became heavy.

He’d never held someone. He’d been to sleepovers and slept next to friends, but this was different. Last night he’d stayed close, but hadn’t held you — though he’d yearned to. He hadn’t wanted to spook you, as if you’d realize who he was, remember what you’d done with him, and flee in disgust.

But this? This felt right. You were warm and soft against his front. You fit him.

A crash of thunder jolted him awake. He lifted his head to look around. The room was still dim from the storm. You weren’t in bed, which he didn’t approve of. You stood in front of the dresser, hanging a necklace on the jewelry stand.

You met his gaze in the mirror.

“Hi, honey.”

He wiped at his face with a groan.

“Hey,” he said, voice scratchy. “What time is it?”

You glanced at the nightstand and reported it was 5:32.

He grunted and flopped onto his back. “How long you been awake?”

“Maybe ten minutes?”

You wore a new pair of pajama pants under the t-shirt you’d napped in. They were cute. You were cute. He wanted to wrap his arms around you.

“Come back to bed,” he said as he scratched his stomach through his shirt.

“I need to finish unpacking.”

He rose onto his elbows as thunder rumbled.

“Did you mean come back to bed?”

“No,” you laughed.

He drew out an ‘I don’t know’ and knee-walked to the foot of the bed.

You spun to face him, eyes glinting with mischief.

“I need to unpack, sir.”

“That sounded a lot like ‘take me to bed.’”

He planted one foot on the floor and rose from the bed.

“Those don’t even have the same amount of words,” you said.

“I guess I have a bad ear for that.”

“Somehow I doubt it.”

As he prowled to you, he asked, “You calling me a liar?”

“No, I think you knock your own talents when it suits you.”

“Oh, ouch, sweetheart,” he said, and put his hands on your hips to back you against the dresser. “You wound me.”

You attempted to hide your smirk and asked, “Should I kiss it better?” while bracing your hands on the dresser.

Though he’d been sleeping next to you, he hadn’t gotten to touch you enough. He pushed himself against you, making you arch. Your breasts pressed against him.

“Later.”

His dick grew heavy, and he bent to kiss your covered chest. He worked his way up until he reached your neck.

You softly groaned with a tilt of your head.

You were his now — with no one to interrupt. Your skin was his to taste — and he did. He kissed the salt from your skin, trailed his teeth down the cord of muscle at the side of your neck.

You fisted his hair and brought his mouth to yours. Your lips smeared across his, your tongue peeked out, tasting of Capri-Sun’s fruit punch. He could devour you whole like this. His hips copied the back and forth of the kiss. God, his dick felt strained and hot between his legs.

You began to slide onto the dresser top, but he stopped you.

“Don’t,” he said. “Turn around.”

Barely giving you enough room, you turned in his hold, rubbing against his front. His gut tightened. He caged you in with his arms and nosed around your hair to kiss your neck again. You smelled so good, like sleep and spice.

He looked at the mirror to see you biting your lip and watching him. He straightened, keeping his front to your back. His erection snugged into the cleft of your ass.

You rested against him, looking more alluring than he’d ever seen you.

He murmured a ‘fuck’ and slid his hands up your sides, catching your flimsy t-shirt as he went.

“You wearing a bra, baby?”

You shook your head, making him curse lowly.

He ran his hands over the satiny skin of your stomach. Your nipples poked underneath your shirt. He stared at their reflection, remembering the feel of your tits in his hands and against his face, the way your nipples jabbed at his palms. He needed to refresh his memory, needed to brand the feel of your flesh in his hands.

When he cupped your tits, you inhaled. He stroked your warm skin with gentle fingertips, kneaded the supple weight of your breasts, then grazed his thumbs over your peaked nipples. Your ribs undulated gracefully with your breathing; so alive and all his.

You arched into his touch, putting your hands on his forearms. He squeezed your nipples and rolled them just a little. You moaned and ground your ass against him.

He ground back, moving counter to you. The inside of his boxers rubbed at his length. Precome made the thin cotton stick to the tip of his dick.

“Eddie...” you whined as you canted your ass.

“How’s the headache?”

“Gone.”

Before he could reply, you nudged him to the side and spun to face him. You steadied his head by the jaw to kiss him hard. It was like you wanted to eat his soul. You kissed him with tongue and teeth and spit. He held onto your bare back, because his knees trembled. He hoped you couldn’t tell. Your lips were perfect. Your skin was warm and soft. He wouldn’t mind if this was all you two did for the rest of the night.

Your hands left his jaw, and you broke the kiss to say, “Want you.”

His gut tightened again.

“Where?” he asked as he swept his hands down to your ass.

You pulled up at his shirt until he had to lift his arms. You tugged the shirt off and dropped it to the floor.

Cooler air cleared his head, but then you ran your hands over his shoulders and into his hair. He kissed you, feeling breathless and buzzing, vibrating like a tuning fork. Your parted lips lured him closer — that siren status confirmed.

You touched him from neck to chest to stomach to the waistband of his underwear. The moment dilated as anticipation increased. He wanted to roll his hips to get you to touch his cock.

Instead, you went to your knees.

He slapped a hand on the dresser to steady himself. Because holy shit. No one had ever— But you were— And, holy shit, he was going to come so fast.

“Okay?” you asked, as if you didn’t look like a wet dream.

He nodded numbly.

You kissed above his bellybutton, nuzzled his stomach, caressed his hips and sides. He lurched forward when you squeezed his ass. His cock bumped your chest, sending a ripple of sensation down to his toes. You palmed him through his boxers to make his knees tremble anew. He thrust into your hand and bit his lip. The muffled touch was enough to weaken him further.

You crooked your fingers under his boxers’ waistband to ease them down his thighs. His erection flopped out, almost hitting you in the cheek like some gangly appendage. He whispered an apology, but you replied it was okay. You called him honey, and he had to swallow a groan.

With gentle hands, you helped him step out of his boxers. Then he was naked save for his sole necklace. You purred and ran your hands up his thighs. He got harder, which seemed impossible, and the room heated — or he was so hot, he couldn’t feel it anymore. Your touch practically seared him.

You moved in to lick the precome now dribbling down the length of his cock. He put a hand on your shoulder to balance himself. It was a shock how good it felt: the velvety texture of your tongue and the tease of your breath ghosting over his dick.

You then steadied his cock with fingers around the base and wrapped your mouth around the tip. He moaned at the heat, the way you burned him with muggy, hot suction. You tongued at the crown as you twisted your head. Your spit-wet lips clasped around his girth. The head of his cock slid along the hard roof of your mouth to the soft palate at the back.

If he thrust, you’d gag and sputter. He didn’t want you retching. He didn’t want you to stop.

He rocked with you, and that had you moaning. He kept tight control of his movements, only nudging the same place of your soft palate.

“This what you want?” he asked. “Want me to fill your pretty mouth?”

He’d fantasized about doing it, too. He imagined how your cheeks would hollow as you sucked, how you’d hold his driving hips, how you’d take every inch of him.

You hummed an affirmative before fisting the base of his cock. He rolled his pelvis forward as you closed your eyes. Your smothered groan reverberated through him, making it difficult to keep it slow and easy.

Shit, he loved the way his cock pumped into your mouth again and again. Saliva drenched your chin. Your hand on his hip pulled him forward, urging him to thrust faster despite his intentions. You sucked and lapped, getting him all slick.

“You’re gonna make me come...”

You moaned an agreement.

He stilled his hips and gripped the nape of your neck.

“Shit, wanna fuck you.”

Because he did. He wanted inside your sweet pussy once more. He couldn’t get enough.

You moaned again and met his gaze. He couldn’t stop from shifting his hips, teasing you both. You whined around his dick, and he nearly forgot his earlier desire.

“So good to me.”

You sucked harder and pushed your tongue on the underside of his dick. It made his eyes roll back. It was so perfect, so good, he could lose himself and spill down your throat.

But, no... No—

He pulled your head away with a gasp, back hunched. Your mouth remained open, a thin string of spittle connected your bottom lip with this cock. Beyond that, the neckline of your t-shirt sat askew on your heaving chest. He wanted to shove himself in your hot mouth until your nose met his stomach, or to fuck your tits — or your tight pussy.

Shit, whatever.

He wanted you so bad.

As he caught his breath, you flicked your tongue out to taste him one more time.

He inhaled through his nose.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked.

You licked your swollen lips with a nod. Your eyes were huge and glassy, drunk on him. He pulled you up as he bent to meet in the middle for a sloppy kiss. The spit and precome on his dick smeared across his stomach. He wiped at the saliva on your chin and fed it back to you.

“So sweet, baby.”

You mewled around his fingers in reply.

He hoisted you to your feet and kissed your talented lips. You stumbled a bit against him, knees obviously numb and stiff, and held onto his shoulders. He shushed you, wrapped an arm around your waist, and cradled your warm cheek.

“I got you,” he said.

You nodded, saying, “Take me to bed.”

He grinned, which you returned.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, and walked you backwards to the bed.

Once there, he turned you around, urged you up, and told you to bend. Your pajama pants hid your ass and thighs, but your t-shirt slid up your back to expose the feminine curve of your torso. He swept his hand down your spine. You lowered your chest to the bed, your ass jutted out to graze his cock. He took hold of your hips and ground himself against you.

“Eddie...”

He grabbed the globes of your ass to knead them. You hummed and wiggled. Then he gave one cheek a grazing smack. You gasped as your flesh jiggled.

“Like that, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Do it again.”

And he did.

You groaned softly and shimmied to encourage him to continue. However, he didn’t want to get distracted. He felt the heat between your legs and needed more. He pulled your pants and underwear to your knees, then kissed the small of your back.

With a shaky, needful voice, you said, “Please, don’t make me wait.”

“My lady’s wish is my command.”

You breathed a laugh.

He smoothed his hands up your thighs to frame your ass. He could eat you up, you looked so delicious. Your skin was so fine. He kissed one cheek, then the other.

You made a small, desperate sound. In response, he nosed at the crease where your leg met ass. He breathed in the heady scent of your arousal and musk. It had his pelvis flexing, cock twitching.

You arched to push against his face. He spread your tender pussy to see it all flushed and wet.

“Sucking my cock got you so worked up.”

You froze.

He said, “God, that’s fucking hot,” and dragged his tongue between the glistening folds of your pussy.

You moaned.

He licked up to the little furl of your asshole. Your breath hitched. He did it over and over, licking all your holes. You ground against his mouth, trying to get more. He angled your hips, tucked his face between your legs, and swirled his tongue around the petite bud of your clit.

You gasped a few ‘please’s and his name, but he didn’t want to stop. He sucked on your clit, its hood. You spread your legs as far as your pants would allow and tried to ride his face.

“Eddie, c’mon! Please—!”

You muffled the rest in the mattress.

He pulled away, and you moaned with disappointment.

“What was that?” he asked before swallowing the salty-sweet taste of you.

“Please, I...”

“Whatever you want.”

“Please fuck me.”

He cursed loudly as a surge of pleasure raced down his spine. He clenched every muscle below his bellybutton to keep from coming right there. Resting his forehead on your ass, he breathed through the near miss.

When the surge abated, he scrambled for a condom. He told you to hang on as he tore through his duffle to find the condom box. In the meantime, you snuck a hand between your legs to play with your clit.

He almost came again at the sight.

At this rate, he was skittering into two-pump-chump territory.

Holy shit, don’t think of pumping.

He found a condom, ripped it open, and rolled it on — all the while thinking of roadkill and long division and the dirty dishes he’d left in the sink. He then took hold of your pants and underwear, tugging at them and sending you forward.

You meeped, yet squirmed to help undress from the waist down.

He tossed the clothes away, crawled over your prone body, and settled above you. With his dick nestled right against your sopping pussy, he rocked his hips. He couldn’t help himself — especially not when you rocked back. You were slick and hot and so ready.

He mouthed at your neck. The bite of your sweat added to the intoxicating taste of you on his tongue.

He realized then your rocking had a purpose: you were attempting to catch the tip of his dick. You made a tiny distressed sound as you continued to fail.

He shushed you. “I got you.”

“Want you.”

“Me too, baby.”

He reached between your bodies to angle his cock just right. You tilted your hips at the same time. It felt like wild magic to push inside you with one long stroke. Your cunt was tight and silky hot around him. He let his head fall forward with a groan. You quivered under him as though on the verge of orgasm.

He kissed and nibbled his way up your neck until reaching your ear. He sucked on the lobe and kissed the corner of your jaw.

“Eddie...”

“You ready?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Talk to me, baby.” He kissed your neck. “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me. I want it.” Your cunt squeezed around him, and he couldn’t tell if it was voluntary. “Take me, make me come.”

His stomach swooped. Your words spurred him on. He drew out just enough before letting the full weight of his lower half drop. You panted a ‘yes’ and braced. He set a punishing pace, fucking you in earnest. The clutch of your cunt had him losing himself to the rhythm. He didn’t care, not minding to drown in you.

You buried your face in the mattress, muting your growing moans. He needed to hear you, though. He gripped your neck and tilted your head back. You tensed with a startled gasp and clawed at the bedding.

He’d felt you tense like that before and knew what it meant.

“Gonna come, baby?” he asked.

“Don’t stop!”

He ignored the burn in his muscles as he hammered his cock deep. You struggled under him, breath ragged, ass grinding. Then you let out a sharp cry. You shook against him, shrieking curses as your cunt quivered and gushed around him.

With a growl, he cupped your jaw to keep your head against his shoulder. He pistoned his hips faster and harder. You rasped out a stunned, drawn-out ‘fuck’ as your orgasm continued to unravel. Your scalding, drenched cunt milked him until it started to be too much.

He couldn’t catch his breath as every muscle locked up. Ecstasy simmered at the base of his spine, growing hotter with each clap of his hips meeting yours. It was a staccato beat to his groans. Then it all boiled over. He gritted his teeth and threw back his head as climax poured out of him. He felt scalded from the inside out.

All that remained was his singed heart beating out the syllables of your name.

He sagged on his elbows and lay his damp face on your rucked t-shirt. There were probably things he needed to say or do now, but he couldn’t remember them. He didn’t think he could form words between his harsh breathing.

Your soothing fingers touched his cheek, his temple. He turned his head to kiss them.

When his erection started flagging, he held the condom and pulled out slowly. You gave a wordless protest, yet didn’t stop him from rolling onto his back beside you. He should tie off the condom and dispose of it. He knew that. However, he didn’t want to look away.

In the mottled light from the window, your skin shone with sweat, your hair was in disarray — no doubt like his — and your eyeliner was a mess.

With no small amount of pride, he privately admitted he enjoyed being the cause of that.

You met his eyes and smiled lazily as rain pelted the glass.

He took your limp hand and pulled it. You grumbled, but scooted closer to rest against his side.

“Goddamn,” he said. “Thanks for that.”

You laughed, “You’re welcome,” and put an arm around his middle.

“Want to order a pizza?”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #em tagd #waywardrose writes

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hellfirebabe · 2 years

Text

What Is and What Should Never Be {one-shot}

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word count: 2.9k

Summary: reader and Eddie are separated from the rest of the group in the Upside Down. they end up at Hawkins Lab where they get into a predicament with SEX POLLEN

Warnings: SMUT. dub con. please do not read if you’re not comfortable with dub con. fuck or die situation. language, unprotected sex, oral sex (female and male receiving), vaginal penetration.

reader is an adult, minors do not interact 💕

——-

Time didn’t exist in the Upside Down.

It could have been hours or it could have been days at this point - you and Eddie had been trekking through the woods of Indiana (technically it was Indiana - even if it was the Indiana of an alternate world) for an ungodly amount of time.

The two of you had been separated from the group ages ago - the sudden attack of hundreds of demo-bats sending everyone in different directions, running for safety - you’d learned from their first attack that it was best to find shelter and hide.

You and Eddie both ran towards the woods, taking shelter in a small cave until the bats flew past.

You didn’t know how long ago that was. You didn’t know where the others were, or if they were okay. You’d gone back to where you’d last seen them, of course - but there was no sign of anyone. You didn’t know if that was for better or for worse. You prayed that it meant they were still hiding out.

You weren’t even sure what it was you were hoping to find - your friends, civilization, a gate back to your home dimension - you were just walking aimlessly, desperately wanting to find your way out this creepy, vine-infested forest.

All you knew was that it was dark, and cold, and your legs felt like jelly from walking for so long.

“Are you sure you don’t want my jacket?” Eddie offers for probably the dozenth time at the chatter of your teeth.

“I do want your jacket,” you admit. “But I won’t take your jacket, because then you’ll be even colder, too.”

He sighs, accepting your answer for the time being.

“I’m less worried about being cold and more worried about the fact that my stomach feels like it’s eating itself,” he complains. You feel it too - the pizza you’d eaten for lunch felt like it had been digested a lifetime ago.

“Well, if one, singular, lone demo-bat comes at us then we may have a chance at harvesting his flesh.” You were too focused on the ground beneath you, making sure you didn’t trip on any of the large, veiny vines, to notice that Eddie had stopped dead in his tracks. “I’m not necessarily keen on eating bat meat but if the alternative is starv—”

You come to a sudden pause when you feel Eddie’s hand gripping the top of your arm.

“What?” Your gaze snaps up to look at his face - he’s staring off in the distance, squinting his eyes tight.

You follow his gaze, immediately seeing what had grabbed his attention.

A building - a huge building, fenced and gated. You’re not convinced it isn’t a prison. There’s no lights on that you can see, and it looks seemingly as abandoned as the forest surrounding it. Like the rest of the Upside Down, it’s covered in noticeable large vines.

“I’ll take my chances checking that out,” Eddie sighs resignedly. “Because I’m not eating fucking bat meat.”

There’s a heavy, sick feeling in the pit of your stomach when you realize what the building is as you get closer.

Hawkins National Laboratory

“Nothing good happens at Hawkins Lab,” you caution. “I doubt whatever we find here is going to be a hot meal.”

“I doubt that, too,” Eddie huffs. He approaches the gate to the chain link fence, freezing when it comes open without any trouble at the first pull. “But maybe we’ll get lucky and there will be some expired cereal or something. People had to eat here sometimes, yeah? And even if there’s no food, there’s bound to at least be something I can bandage this bad boy up with.” Eddie lifts the tail of his shirt, exposing three shallow but long scratches from a bat that had got to him. The bleeding had stopped a while ago, but he was still at risk for infection.

You follow him through the gate. There’s no sign of any living being and you don’t even know if anyone has ever been here, to this lab in this world.

The front door opens as easily as the gate did.

There’s no electricity - you’re not surprised. The only bit of light is what little trickles through the windows from the red-tinted sky outside. The hallways are vast and empty, as are most of the rooms you peek into. A few rooms contain old computers, others have typical equipment found in labs - microscopes, Bunsen burners, empty freezers. The whole place smells old - sour and musty and there’s a thin layer of grit and grime on every surface.

It’s eerily silent except for every footstep that seems to echo for miles.

Eddie stays a step ahead of you the whole time, his body shielding yours - from what exactly, you didn’t know, but you felt safe nonetheless.

You search the whole first floor without any success. No food, no running water, no means of communication.

“Bat meat is starting to sound more and more tempting,” Eddie mudders under his breath as you walk down the flight of stairs to a lower level.

The basement is darker - you pull out the one flashlight the two of you had been sharing from your coat pocket and shine the light ahead of you.

There’s a set of large double doors at the end of the hallway with the word INFIRMARY in bold red letters.

“Let’s find something for me to clean your wound with,” you tell him.

To call it an infirmary would be generous. The room is large, but mostly empty - there’s one hospital bed and several cupboards that are nearly all bare, except for one.

You spot a bottle of rubbing alcohol, amongst a bunch of other various vials and glass cylinders, on one of the higher shelves.

It’s almost too tall for Eddie to reach. Even on his tippy-toes, it’s a stretch. He lunges for the bottle but misses, knocking several over in the process. One rolls off of the shelf, falling at least ten feet to the concrete floor. You jump out of the way right before it shatters.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbles, still reaching for the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

“Maybe you could try to lift me up?” You suggest. “I could put my feet in your hands and you could give me a boost—”

Eddie’s body goes rigid. You point the flashlight at him, noticing that his eyes are darting around frantically.

“Eddie? What’s wrong?” You take a step towards him.

“Don’t!” He shouts - it echoes. “Don’t step any closer to me,” he adds in a quieter voice.

“What the fuck is going on? You’re scaring me.”

“I don’t - I don’t know - fuck, what the fuck.” Eddie starts to walk backwards, distancing himself from you. You stay where you’re at, but follow him with the light of the flashlight. He’s hunched over, in visible pain, as if there’s a knife in his stomach. Your first thought is that the cuts from the demo-bats are hurting him, but he’s been completely fine up until this point.

No, this is too sudden. This is something urgent.

“What the fuck was in that vial?” Eddie curses through gritted teeth.

You turn to the pile of glass on the floor a few feet away from you - there’s a layer of red dust coating the floor around the shards of glass.

You take a cautious step towards the mess, noticing a label still attached to one of the larger shards. You squint to read the small print.

Caution: potentially fatal

PROCREATION POLLEN

“Something is really fucking wrong with me,” Eddie gasps. “I’m covered in sweat, I can’t breathe, I feel like I’m going to explode, like my skin is crawling and I need to.. need to..” he trails off, pacing with his fists in his hair.

Procreation Pollen. It wasn’t something you knew existed but the name on the label was relatively explanatory. And given the place that it was found, a laboratory infamous for its experiments, and the behavior that Eddie was exhibiting, you pieced together what the dust was meant for.

“Have sex?” You finish his sentence. He doesn’t respond at first, just focuses on breathing - his chest is heaving. He has a feral look to him.

“I- I think I’m going to fucking die if I don’t,” his voice cracks with fear.

You walk over to him and he holds his hands up in front of himself.

“I’m serious, sweetheart, don’t. I’m barely controlling myself right now,” he pleads with you.

“Eddie, this feeling isn’t going to go away unless you do something to make it go away.” You try to reason with him.

“You’d really rather die than have sex with me?” Your voice is almost teasing - despite the serious situation at hand, you and Eddie had been playing a game of “will they, won’t they” for far too long.

“No!” Eddie gasps - whether it was out of shock or discomfort, you’re not sure. “Of course not. I just don’t want it to be like this, don’t want it to happen here, like this. This isn’t anything like I imagined it. I don’t want you to fuck me just to save my life.” He laughs but you can hear the pain behind it.

“Oh? How did you imagine it then?” You walk towards him slowly, until you’re less than a foot away from him.

His body freezes again. It looks as though he’s trying to hold his breath - like your scent could send him over the edge.

You sit the flashlight you’d be holding on the nearest countertop surface before closing the gap of space between you. You put your hands on either side of his abdomen and he groans. His muscles are taut and he feels feverish even through the fabric of his shirt.

“Because I’ve imagined it so many different ways,” your voice is just above a whisper. “I’ve imagined it happening in your room with Black Sabbath blasting at full volume to drown out the noise. I’ve imagined it in the back of your van when we’re stoned out of our minds because we’ve smoked one joint too many. I’ve imagined sneaking you into my room after my family goes to sleep and you covering my mouth with your hand to keep me quiet. And I absolutely would fuck you to save your life but I would fuck you any other time, too.”

“It hurts,” he whimpers. “My whole body hurts.”

“Let me help you,” you plead. “Can I please help you?” You’re scared that he’ll refuse - and you’re terrified of what will happen if he does - but you still need to hear him say it. Still need to know that he wants it - really wants it, and not just because he could die if he doesn’t.

His mouth opens but no sound comes out. He hesitates for a moment longer before his lips are on yours.

He pulls you flush against him - the heat from his body instantly makes you feel the warmest you’d been since you all jumped into Lover’s Lake after Steve. His kiss is desperate; fast and messy. He tastes like the last of his cigarettes that he had chain-smoked in the woods of the Upside Down.

You can feel that he’s already hard through his jeans. You palm at him through his pants and you feel him twitch. He groans again, but this time it’s more of a growl.

He picks you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his midsection as he carries you to the creaky hospital style bed.

There’s an urgency to his actions, but he’s still gentle.

You shrug out of your jacket and toss it on the floor before tugging your shirt over your head. You’re left in only your bra from the waist up. Eddie removes his own shirt before kissing you again, pinning you between his body and the hard mattress.

His skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat that quickly smears against your own stomach and chest.

He kisses you softly once more before hovering above you - his fingers hook into your bra and he glances at you before pulling the fabric out of the way.

“It’s okay,” you assure him.

He tugs the cup of your bra to the side, exposing your breast. The chilly air of the laboratory instantly hardens your nipples - his mouth encases one a second later.

You arch into his touch. His free hand goes to your other breast, pushing your bra out of the way.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he croons when he pulls away. He sits back on his knees and you sit up too - your face level with his stomach. It’s mostly pitch black, the only light coming from the flashlight on the other side of the room, but it’s more than enough to make out his silhouette.

You press your lips to his belly, trailing kisses down his happy trail before pausing at the hem of his pants. You pop open the button and help him shimmy out of them, his underwear quickly following.

His dick springs forward, almost hitting his belly button.

You waste no more time before taking his tip into your mouth. He lets out a visible shudder when your mouth closes around him. You use your tongue to clean up where he’d already leaked around his slit.

His fingers thread through your hair - his hands keeping your head in place. He bucks his hips as you work him with your mouth and you can tell it’s taking all of his restraint to not shove himself deep into your throat. His movements are erratic and you feel him twitch in your mouth. You bob your head a few more times, taking in him little by little until your lips are at his pubes.

“Not gonna last long, sweetheart,” he says in a strained voice. You pull yourself away from him with a pop, replacing your mouth with your hand as you continue to pump him.

“Isn’t that the point?” You chuckle, looking up at him through your lashes. “Make you come so you don’t die?”

He strokes your hair with one hand, the other coming to cup your face as he rubs your lower lip with this thumb.

You can vaguely make out a smirk on his face. He chuckles, then leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“I’ve waited way too long for this,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I’ll take my chances with dying before I pass up the opportunity to eat you out.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to object. He lays you down against the mattress and yanks both your pants and panties down in one quick motion.

He spreads you in front of him - nestles himself between your legs and splays his hands across the squish of your thighs.

The feeling of his hot breath against your center sends goosebumps across your skin before his lips make contact with you.

Despite the pressing matter of time, he’s thorough with you. Drinks from you like a man starved. His hands wrap around your wrists, keeping you where he wants you - mewling beneath him.

You’re almost over the edge when he pulls away. He looks up at you almost apologetically and starts to speak when you shush him.

“Come here,” you command him. “I want you inside me.”

“Need to be in you,” he says, out of breath. He angles himself over you, lining himself up at your entrance.

His forehead is pressed against yours, his sweat mixing with your own. He pushes in gently - pausing when you both hiss in pleasure - before filling you all the way up.

“Shit,” he breathes. “You feel fucking perfect.”

He starts to move, slowly at first before working up to a steady pace. You’re already soaked from his work with his mouth and it takes no time for the vacant laboratory to echo with the obscene noises that came from between your two bodies.

He kisses you as he fucks you - moans into your mouth.

Circumstances aside, it’s better than you’d ever daydreamed of. Years worth of pent up feelings and desires are released as he thrusts into you.

“Need to come, baby,” he grunts. “Want you to come with me.” He reaches his hand between the two of you, finding your swollen sweet spot and massaging quick circles.

There’s a familiar heat building in your lower belly. His thrusts become messy and sporadic - you’re both close.

You wrap your legs around him, pulling him as far into you as he can get. You clench around him as you come and he loses it when he feels it.

He fucks you through both of your orgasms and then collapses on top of you.

“Are you okay?” You ask him as soon as your breathing levels out. “Did it work? Are you still in pain?”

He pulls back to look down at you.

“I’ve never felt better,” he promises.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Can’t believe it took you being poisoned in an abandoned laboratory in an alternate dimension for us to finally hook up,” you laugh under your breath.

“We’re pretty fucking stupid, huh?” He agrees before kissing you again. He takes his time now, there’s no longer a frantic urgency.

“Just promise me—” he interjects in between kisses. “That we won’t be stupid anymore when we get back home.”

Oh, you promise.

—

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson one-shot #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #joseph quinn

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