#eddie you big sap
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Steve seeing something on tiktok and trying it on Eddie
Steve: You know what I kinda really want right now, an orange
Eddie: Do we even have the oranges?
Steve: I’m not sure
Eddie: *getting up* Let me check. Nope, be back in ten
Steve: *to the camera* I was not expecting him to go that far
Ten minutes later
Eddie: *comes back to the apartment with a bag of oranges* Do you want peeled or sliced
Steve: Peeled
Eddie: Ok
Steve: *looking at the camera* I think he passed
Eddie: *handing Steve a bowl of peeled orange slices* Passed what?
Steve: Nothing
#and the comments are like#omg couple goals#the bar is finally off the ground#that is so wholesome#specifically robin’s comment >#eddie you big sap#eddie’s response >#shut up#since everyone is doing this#i’m hopping on the band wagon#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#modern au#orange peel theory#eddie would pass the orange peel test with flying colors#prove me wrong#incorect quote#stranger things incorrect quotes#steddie incorrect quotes
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was listening to for you by laura marling and it got me thinking about a soulmate au with eddie
you have dreams of your soulmate but they come sporadically, giving you glimpses into each other’s lives. they start when you’re both young and you get your first one of eddie getting his first guitar. the second is of eddie and wayne seemingly at a fair. they come and go sometimes days or months in between. you start to write down what you know and as he gets older, you can’t help but doodle the glimpses you get of him. you smile as you notice his hair growing, thinking it suits him
eddie also keeps track, passing it off as a reoccurring character within his hellfire campaigns. he starts to look into your interest when he gets dreams of them, wanting to learn more about you for if you ever meet. part of him worries he won’t be enough for you, worried you wouldn’t want to be with someone labeled the town freak. he notices these dreams seem like memories, making an effort to try and send some sort of coded messages whenever something happens he thinks is dream worthy
there is no set way of finding your soulmate outside of these dreams. it’s only noted that over time they’ll slowly focus on environmental elements instead of the soulmate themself. you’ve both spent hours in the local library searching through magazines or articles of landmarks hoping to find a place that resembles one in your dreams. many people had luckily found their soulmates during high school, much to both you and eddies disappointment. you had given up, choosing a college in some small, far away town out of spite. you didn’t want to see those you know be happy while you were still searching. it wasn’t until the end of your freshman year that the universe sided with you
your friends had found a local band poster for their show in the campus quad, begging for you to join them seeing as the club wasn’t far. when you saw it, you couldn’t help but notice it looked vaguely familiar. frantically searching your soulmate journal, you noticed the coffin was one you drew before; it manifested in a dream where eddie designed the first corroded coffin poster.
you practically ran to the hideout, anxiously seated at the bar as you waited for something to happen. you didn’t know what to expect. would you even see him? maybe it was an old poster. what if he didn’t like the way you dressed? what if he didn’t like you? time passed and just as you were about to give up and go home, a voice cut through the small crowd. you looked over and heart was practically in your throat as you saw him
eddie was shredding it on guitar, the band going hard for their first song. you couldn’t help but stare at how beautiful he was in person compared to the hazy dreams. his long hair was wild from his movements, lips pulled into a grin, big doe eyes darting from his guitar to the crowd. the only time he faltered was when they landed on you
he had been dreaming of this moment for some time, thanking whatever higher power allowed him to see his soulmate at a time where he was at his best. seeing you drove him to put on the show of his life and he wouldn’t take his eyes off you. you’re stunned, too in awe by their set to look away. it wasn’t until they played their last song and eddie was rushing to you that the trance was broken. he was even more beautiful up close. you could see the sparkle in those brown eyes, the flush of his cheeks, and just how soft his lips looked
he’s grinning as he bows, extending his hand to you in greeting. when you take it, he brings your hand up to his lips and places a tender kiss to your knuckles. “i’ve waited all my life for you” is what he says first, his eyes meeting yours once again. his voice is soft, full of adoration you’ve never experienced before this moment. it was that moment you knew you would fall hard for eddie munson and thanked a god you never met, never loved, and never wanted because you wouldn’t have it any other way
#I’m SOFT#i thought about this instead of doing my work#if you couldn’t tell by my thoughts of eddie I’m a huge sap#I’m a big romantic#i will always love you eddie munson#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things x you#stranger things x reader#soulmate au
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Besties if I'm behind in any of my replies and stuff I'M SORRY and it's because I'm struggling to try to get my life back together when a million tasks keep piling up endlessly and my monkey brain can only do (1) thing at a time
But also wanted to say that, between yesterday and today, I've seen a lot of new notes and reblogs on my very first Eddie fic, No One Like You, and, AAH, that makes my heart all warm and fuzzy! It was the first thing I wrote for Eddie way back when ST4 Vol. 1 came out, and the first thing I wrote after a big ass writing hiatus at that time. What excited my most about writing that fic (and for Eddie) is that I could FINALLY project my own music taste onto a character and have it actually fit lol! so putting up the playlist that inspired the fic was so special for me. I know it has plenty of things I'd change (I feel like my writing has improved since then imo) but still that story is very special. And so I'm very happy to see it's being rediscovered after two years!
I know a lot of you besties follow me for my Aemond stuff but I enjoy writing for/about Eddie the most because he has my entire heart. And it just makes me happy that my Eddie stories are kinda seeing a new light since I stopped writing for him because I felt like my Eddie writing never took off the way I hoped it would.
#idk where I'm trying to get with this post#just a huge thank you if you've discovered my blog recently because of my Eddie stories!#I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my life will ease a little bit soon so I can write again#I do have two Eddie wips in the works that I'm trying to tackle slowly but surely#long ass sentimental post#cause I'm a big sap
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𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader x eddie munson
tags: mmf threesome, oral sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, piv, anal, double penetration, dirty talk, dom!eddie, dom!steve, sub!reader, best friends with benefits, mentions of virginity, hair-pulling, breeding kink, throatfucking, squirting, praise and degradation, everyone is horny
summary: back home from school, you recount about your time away in college with steve and eddie, leading to a sexual proposition that you never would’ve expected.
notes: pure filth, forgive me if it is hard to visualize positions… threesomes are very messy and crazy to write! feedback and reblogs appreciated :)
There’s a veering shift in the way they look at you. Maybe it’s because you’ve been gone for so long, so out of the loop, nothing but a modulated grainy voice on the other end of a call line, or a lingering scent in the back of their closets — jasmine, soap, the smell of girl and all things sweet, a tang of Eddie’s favorite green bud.
You want to believe it’s because they’ve missed you, they always do, but it’s different.
The way they each hug you, toned arms locked tightly around your waist, dragging and dragging upwards until it’s slung over your shoulder possessively and Steve’s perfectly-curved nose is in the tangles of your hair.
Ours. Ours. Ours.
You may have been gone for almost a year, but you’re still their girl.
“Look at you, dressin’ all tough and shit now!” Eddie grins proudly, tugging the hem of your skull shirt towards him as he tenderly presses your head to his chest. You nearly stumble on your boots, nothing but a shy smile ghosting the curl of your upper lip as he runs his thumb along your brow bone and you inhale him in with fluttering lashes. “You copying me? Stealing my style, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart. His gorgeous best friend. Wiser, older now, prettier — well, you’ve always been pretty, but now, you’ve really grown into your features.
A year, it’s only been a fucking year and yet you still look this good. Better. Knocking the wind out of him, just to breathe it back between his lips.
“You should be flattered,” You shake your head at him, clasping a hand over his shoulder as you gaze over at Steve with admirable regard. There’s emphasis on every word that falls from your taunting smirk as he steps up your front porch. “You should be flattered I chose your clothes over Harrington’s preppy mom-jeans and—“
Then you’re being crushed, wedged between two warm bodies and clashing scents of woodiness and lavender as Steve wraps himself around you.
“You’re talking mad shit about me now, Y/N? All this time, thought I was your favorite — hey, I know that face — I am certain I was your favorite. I was before this one,” He ruffles Eddie’s hair roughly, beaming at either of you. “Came along and practically hypnotized you with his — his rings and his music and his…”
“Shut up and just say you missed me already.” You pull Steve closer to you, his face burying itself in the crook of your neck as Eddie rests his chin on the top of your scalp. It’s a chorus of can’t believe you’re back, crazy you left us in the first place, you’re here, we’re gonna spend so much time together. You can only smile, feeling their love spill out of their respective cups and into yours as you pull them into the house. “Saps.”
Your childhood bedroom of pinks and blues and whites feels exceptionally, jarringly smaller.
Steve and Eddie take up so much space — long legs and big socked feet, sharp jaws and curious eyes as you sit out on the fluffy beige carpet, sifting through the contents of your suitcase as you tell them stories about wild parties, about classes, about your messy roommates and about professors who didn’t know how to teach.
‘Listen, I loved Chicago, but I’ll always love Hawkins.’
‘Hello? The only reason you like Hawkins is because of us.’
‘Still you and your ego, Harrington.’
You don’t tell them about the boys, about the crushes and what kind of antics you got up to in the absence of them. Of them, their protectiveness, their touch, gentle and fleeting and borderline blurring the lines of friendship.
There was an ache for Steve and Eddie — far from platonic, short of romantic, closer to a sexual awakening than anything. The nights where you called, feeling the baritone of their deep snappy voices over the phone as they fought over for a turn, that dreaded dial tone when the line had gone dead and you were left with an emptiness, a twisting heat in your stomach as you replayed their words over and over again before you slept: Miss you. Come home, pretty girl.
You can’t help but wonder what they got up to while you spent nights in the dorms tossing and turning to the thought of either of them. There’s only so many ways you can quietly lull yourself to a blissful sleep in a shared room.
“Mmm, what do we have here?” Eddie breaks up the childish bantering between you and Steve with a curious tone, waving a flimsy stack of polaroids between his forefinger and middle.
No. No. Absolutely not. Not fucking now.
“Okay, Eddie. Maybe not…” Your laugh is frantic and near-alarmed, hands already reaching out for him until he’s gently swatting you away. “… not that one. Hey, no.”
“Cold case, hard evidence of little Y/N’s college escapades?” He quirks a beady brow, tongue wiggling against his front teeth as he winks at Steve and rambles on in amusement. “Do you… do you hear that? Oh, oh! Eddie, pssst, pssst, Eddie… look at me!”
“Give it back, asswipe.”
“Is Y/N guilty or…” He cards through the pictures, lines dimpling around his pursed lips as a wicked grin starts to split his face in half. “Innocent?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Stupid. You should have taken this into account, boys and their lack of respect for privacy, your boys and their habit of sticking their noses where they aren’t fucking supposed to. Eddie and his big greedy mouth, yapping and yapping until he’s dragged good ol’ Steve into his influential mess — you’re trapped between the two brunettes, pleading to Ozzy that they save you from the embarrassment and just move on with their lives.
It’s the worst picture out of the stack. So much for “it’s all about preserving the memory, you know, you’re only young once.”
Memory or not, it was supposed to be for your eyes only.
Not Steve’s. Not Eddie’s.
They stare at a blurry photo of you, very topless and covered in bruising hickies, your smile split into a hearty laugh as a green lime dangles from between your teeth and Some Blond Guy licks up a trail of salt off of the horizon of your pretty tummy.
“Oh, my god.” Steve gapes. “Dude. Body shots?”
“Guys…”
“Don’t guys us, who is this rat-faced son of a bitch that’s practically making out with your stomach?” Eddie’s brows furrow, jealousy dripping from his tone. He’s trying to lead with the playful card, but it’s difficult — difficult when he’s looking at a picture of a guy (who looks like he’s fucking named Brad) basically violating you.
“He’s… a friend. Just a friend.”
Steves laughs unconvinced, “Ah, friend. Guys and girls… they can’t be friends.”
“You’re friends with Robin.” You frown.
“Robin’s gay, you idiot.” Eddie flicks the back of your head.
“Okay, right! Fine! She’s an exception, though.” You scoff. This conversation is unbelievable. “Well, us then? We’re friends.”
Friends. It’s a weird word. People say the l-bomb is horrible, but the f-bomb — friend, not fuck — is absolutely petrifying, numbing, fear-inducing.
It hangs heavily over your heads like something you’re not supposed to say, like forbidden fruit, Adam, Eve, and the serpent. Because the meaning of friends has always been a little strange for the three of you. What are friends?
What are we - what are we - what are we?
You are not friends, you are more, something unreachable, unconventional, something only you and they can understand, you are—
“Best friends.” Eddie corrects, glancing up at you. He pins you with his eyes, even as you suddenly avert your attention down to the pack of Marlboros in your lap like it could serve as a scapegoat, your fingers drumming anxiously against the weathered box. “You know what, I get it. I do. I really do, Y/N. A pretty girl — a woman, like you, has primal urges. And when you’re in college…”
“Eddie… I’m not thirteen.”
“Where sometimes mediocre, average fucking bozos like this Brad-looking fellow come along… bless his heart for even trying, by the way...”
You groan outwardly, fingers fumbling to pinch a cig between your quivering lips. Your voice comes out muffled, sharp and blunt like the end of a knife. “His name is Matt, okay?”
Steve winces, glancing over at Eddie who responds to with a shrug. “Okay, well, Matt is just as bad.”
“Can you guys, like, chill out? Your name is literally Steve.” You avoid their questioning glares, an orange shadow coating the lower half of your jaw. “I just got back and you’re already hounding me.”
A harsh sizzle cuts through the atmosphere as you raise your Bic lighter to your mouth.
You’re defensive. Sensitive.
They hate it. It’s not like you.
“So, what then?” Eddie continues, unable to drop the subject. He wants to pry. He needs to. It’s you. It’s you, so he has to know every detail, even if it leaves you fuming, nostrils flaring at his persistence. “Is he… the college boyfriend? College sweetheart? How about fratboy, porno fantasy? Hot TA that gives your exams a pass every time? You’ve always been ass at math, can’t even tell a full gram from half so I wouldn’t technically be surprised.”
God. Insufferable. But you still thrum under his stare, his pupils imbedding themselves into your skin as you suck your cheeks in and inhale.
Eddie wonders if you remember, if there’s some part of you that thinks back on your graduation night, the way he touched you in that diner, a hand spread over your thigh, your head on his shoulder as Steve rambled about how boring his version of graduation was.
Eddie wonders if you remember the way you inhaled him inside Steve’s garage, knees sinking into the shitty abandoned couch beside the washing machine as you eagerly sucked him off. You were on cloud nine, adrenaline coursing through your veins from the thought of college-college-college, but also when will you ever get to do this again? Do this with someone as perfect and rare as Eddie?
‘Do they have boys like you in college?’
You can still picture the glimmer of his smile. ‘God, I hope not. What a bad influence they would be.’
‘I think I turned out pretty okay so far.’
His rings stuck in your hair, his head thrown back against the furniture, your mouth and the lewd, filthy squelch of his cock burying itself in your throat while you waited for Steve to come back after he had forgotten his wallet at the diner.
‘This doesn’t change anything’, you had told him. ‘We’re always gonna be best friends.’
‘I know, sweetheart. Just needed something to take the edge off, didn’t you? Bet you’ve been working so hard on getting that scholarship, smart girl.’
He fingered you under the graduation gown afterwards.
“Y/N.”
Fuck. “I didn’t — it was nothing. He was nothing. Trust me. Just… I mean, a quick fuck, s’all, I didn’t even…” You chuckle nervously, girlish and unsure and very vulnerable. “… okay, he was fun, but like, I didn’t even cum so… so it doesn’t count. He doesn’t count.”
“You fucked Brad?”
“Matt.” You cringe.
Steve’s voice nearly booms. “You fucked Matt?”
“It’s college!” You cough out, choking on the contents of your cigarette. “People fuck other people all the time.”
“Weren’t you a virgin?”
You were a virgin. Technically. But you were also a virgin when Eddie spread you open on that couch, moaning as he told you how proud he was of you for working so hard.
You were also a virgin when Steve made out with you in the back of a movie theater, where he’d left a gnarly hickey on your left boob for everyone to see — including Eddie, who didn’t even bat an eyelash because he knew, he fucking knew that Steve boyishly wanted you in the same way he did the summer after you graduated, and he supposes that’s why there’s always been an unspoken understanding between the three of you.
‘If you make a sound, we’re gone. Kicked out. Won’t get to finish this awful movie,’ Steve said. ‘You want that?’
Breathless. Eager. Drowsily drunk on your affection.
His lips against your neck, your pulse point, a nibble to your jaw, a hungry tug on your earring. Fucking hell. How soft he was, how gentle, how he touched you with such a special regard and how some sick, jealous part of you thought — were you like this with Nancy? Was it ever like this was Nancy? Part of you wanted to moan. Croak out his name. Make a sound, any sound, so you could get kicked out and have him all to yourself.
You were a virgin when Eddie let you practice a handjob on him in the living room of his uncle’s trailer. You were a virgin when Steve ate you out in his car after finding out you were leaving for Chicago.
You were a virgin.
“I was, but I’m… do you even count that? He didn’t even… he could barely stick it in me at first, Steve, Eds.”
The air feels angry. Tense. It’s suffocating, how they share that look, how they casually train their gazes back on you like you’ve killed someone. “What was he like?”
“Come again?”
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull as Eddie steals the cig from your lips, taking a drag before he repeats himself — slower, syllables laced with a darker want.
“I said, what was he like? In bed? You said he could barely stick it in you, so I doubt he was any fucking good.”
“Did he kiss you?” Steve follows on, nodding at Eddie to pass him the Marlboro. It’s so fucking intimate. His lips on the patch where Eddie’s had been, to which, in turn, where yours was. There’s smoke everywhere, even as he speaks, it somehow hits you coldly right on the mouth. “Was he a good kisser?”
Only then do you realize how physically close you are to both of them. You’re stuck, sandwiched between their thighs, their knees knocking against yours as you try to compose yourself. “It wasn’t… it wasn’t awful but it wasn’t good, either. Too much tongue. Too much — not enough… not enough teeth, I guess. You know how I…”
Oh, they know, alright.
You don’t even flinch as Steve leans over and passes the cig back to Eddie. It’s a dance, a fucking taunt as you clench your jaw and curl into yourself under their presence. The longer-haired brunette tosses the dirty polaroid aside, speaking accusingly through a lazy drag.
“Thought you wanted to save it for someone special, sweetheart.”
“I did.”
“No judgement there. Lay it on us, what changed then?”
You shrug, blinking rapidly. “Just wanted to get it over with.” They don’t believe you. It’s clear as day on their faces, the crease between their eyes, the side-twitch of Eddie’s lips and Steve’s nerved running of hands through his hair. “If you wanna call bullshit…”
“Bullshit.” These fuckers. Steve eggs you further, “A real reason, come on, Y/N.”
“Look, you’re gonna make fun of me.”
“Which we always do. Just spill it.”
You can’t hide anything from them. Not them. Not Steve, who’s practically had his handsome face between your legs for hours and not Eddie who’s basically bent you over the hood of his van so he could spread you open with his fingers.
Not your best friends, who you’ve wanted in an insatiable way all your life, even when you had went away, it was always them — just the thought of them — that made you dizzy in all the right headspaces, the callousness of their fingers, their constant gonna-take-care-of-you aura and that implicit agreement between you and the two of them that I’m yours, m’your girl, always going to be.
“I just always thought I’d… lose it to one of you guys, and — I mean, you guys weren’t there and so I just figured I’d be more… fuck, I dunno, desirable? Yeah, just… desirable if I lost it before I came back since you already have so m-much, like, experience and...” You mumble rapidly, losing your tongue amongst your word-vomit of an explanation as you clamber onto your knees and try to stand up. Hot, embarrassed tears blur the cones of your vision. “It’s stupid, really! Like, it doesn’t even matter to me anymore because i-it was such a disappointing experience. Let’s just drop this, okay?”
This has to be a dream. A prank. A delusion. Maybe you’re still in Chicago, blacked-out after a party. Drank too much? Took the wrong weed? Shit, maybe Eddie is right — you don’t know half a gram from a full one.
And before you can shakily rise to two feet, your elbow is tugged back forcefully. Pain shoots up your arm, and you nearly yelp when your ass collides onto your springy twin mattress.
“Uh-uh, you are not getting yourself out of this so easily. If it was oh-so disappointing, tell us what he did wrong and we’ll… we’ll… we can be your fix-it. Think of us as a rebound for, like, the guy you totally should not have fucked. Again, no judgement. Just saying a girl like you should have high standards.”
You should not be turned on right now.
Eddie looks sincere and so pleadingly desperate for an answer that you feel the yearning in his stare. It’s graduation night all over again. The stir of your belly, the squeeze he gives your thigh as he sits beside you, your glance of disbelief at Steve and his return of that hooded-gaze that turns you completely boneless as he joins the two of you on the bed.
“And you meet that standard?” You scoff, a snort following.
His brows rise up his forehead. You’re testing him. “I can meet any standard, sweetheart.”
“And you swear you guys can do better than Matt?”
“You already know we can do better than Matt.” Steve laughs, almost as if you had just said something completely stupid.
Eddie’s fingers trail up your knee, a ghost of a touch. He’s barely even pressing into your skin, but you feel him — his warmth, just inches away, gliding over the little goosebumps on your body, caressing the shaky ball of your knee.
“You know, we talked ‘bout you. Had our own bonding moment, me and Harrington. Jus’ talked about how we’d take you out once you got back, treat you like a real princess after being so studious, talked about how… hm...” He chuckles, pausing to glance up at you while you lose yourself in his beady smile. This fucker. This absolute fucker. “Talked about how generous you are when it comes to friends. Thinkin’ we didn’t know you were practically playing pornstar with the both of us. Doin’ shit behind our backs like you’re a genius.”
Both of us.
Both. You want them both, and suddenly, you don’t feel bad for being unbelievably horny, a fucking mess.
“Listen…”
“Nu-uh. It was smart. You gotta make do with what you have. I’ll give you that.”
Steve whispers, thumbing at the corners of your lip. “Hey. No need to be embarrassed. S’alright that big brain of yours can’t think right now. You just wanna feel good. That whole thing with Matt must’ve been so disappointing.”
Eddie puts out his cigarette on the polaroid, smirking when he cups a large hand around your chin, thumb and pointer finger pressing into your hollow cheeks before he’s tenderly pulling your head to look at him.
There is too much heat. It’s stuffy, and warm, and you can’t really breathe. There’s grimy sweat in the crooks your elbows, the duvet is getting stuck to your skin and you can’t really sit still in the itchy fabric of your sweats because it’s fucking boiling. It’s boiling and you can’t think and you don’t know what the hell is happening, and you want air — not this swirling humidity that wafts under your knees, between your thighs…
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Yeah?” His hand dips down your jaw, fingers wrapping around the small girth of your throat. A gentle squeeze. Experimental. Your breath hitches, a stuttering exhale as he tries again, harder, then he’s withdrawing and soothing the roughened area. “Care to share with the class? Unless, it’s inappropriate… then, you might just wanna,” He chuckles, tilting your head back. “… whisper it.”
If this is a black-out, you hope you wake up with a gnarly hangover.
“If that offer still stands, if you guys wanna be my… my rebound or— or fix-it, or whatever the fuck...” This is messy. This is wrong. This is… this isn’t what friends do… but at this point, can you even call yourselves friends? “I’m down to do it.”
“You sure? I mean, you were just a virgin and…”
You snap. “Well, that never stopped either of you before, did it?”
He lunges at you.
Your mouth finds Eddie in the tangle of limbs and bodies. You run your fingers through his unruly hair, feeling yourself relax into the sudden notion as he tilts his chin to slot his lips over yours. It’s brazen, an open letter of lust from you to him saying I want this. I want you to kiss me back. I want this so bad, you don’t even know.
It’s a burning ember of feverish desire as he parts himself open and open, tongues slowly rolling against each other until a moan slips out of you. “You like this? Don’t think it’s weird or anything?”
“M’fine.”
“Tell me to stop — fuck — and I’ll stop.”
“No.”
You can feel Steve pressing against your back, the pads of his fingers digging themselves into your flesh, marking the spots where Eddie’s lips can’t reach as the metalhead dips into your collarbone and sucks. Hard. He leaves you purple and aching, your neck craned as the lighter-haired brunette dips your head back and gazes down at you.
“Christ, she likes that.”
You sigh in bliss, slowly unraveling at the seams.
And oh, your whole body fucking stutters when Eddie dips his hand between your legs, causing you to lurch for Steve’s mouth in order to stifle the whiny gasp of surprise knocked out of you. His palm envelops your jaw. He’s warm. Wet. Lids moony and lips silky with an indiscernible impatience you can’t recognize.
More. Give me more of you.
You jolt as Eddie’s hands carefully push the fabric of your shirt up, his nose nudging against the valley of your breasts before he’s cupping you in a lazy grasp. He mouths at your nipples and he savors it. He thanks you. He thanks you with a twist to one of the hardened buds, soothing the area with his tongue before his teeth climb up the front of your neck and he makes you whimper.
“Fuck, I love how whiny you get.” He hums. “Sensitive little thing, aren’t you? S’just my favorite part about you, Y/N. I’m sure Harrington agrees, seeing as… I’m not the only guy you do this kind of shit with.”
A bite. A bruise. An apologetic kiss even though he’s far from sorry. He���s calling you a slut without even saying it.
And while Eddie traverses his way up to your mouth, Steve dips down to nurse a path all over your back. Your shirt gets lost along the carpet somewhere, your shoulders bare and waiting as he takes your flesh between smiling lips and leaves a glistening trail of wet, open-mouthed pecks on your flexing muscles.
Then Eddie… oh, Eddie, the dirty-minded fucker.
Eddie gives you another hungry kiss, only this time it’s like you haven’t kissed in years. He kisses you like he doesn’t already have you yearning and yearning for more. He bites your bottom lip, drawing a raspy gasp from the back of your throat. His nose smashes against your cheek as he moans into you, the taste of cigarettes lingering on your tongue.
“You’re so pretty. You’re so pretty, baby…” Steve ruts against your tailbone, collecting your hair into a careful fist and tugging until you’re pulled away from your deepening kiss. “You must’ve been so empty back there, aching. I can’t imagine how awful you must’ve felt, Y/N. Were any of those guys even any good to you?”
“No. Not even close — not like you.”
“Mm, shame.”
You don’t take your stare off of Steve at all, scared that if you looked away, scared that even one second would take this away from you. He kisses the sides of your socked feet, grazing his lips over your ankles and clothed calves until you shudder at the close proximity to your core.
Anticipation is coursing through your veins. Your chest is heaving, eyes wide like a baby owl. There’s an unmistakable throb that you recognize between your thighs. Burning you from the inside. Burning you at the stake. Burning you until you’re nothing but ash and a brandished vessel of blooming hickies.
Fucking fuck.
“You hear that? Harrington’s right, bet Matt didn’t even eat you out if he couldn’t even get his cock in.” Eddie grits out unfiltered while you part your legs for Steve, inviting him. You exhale sharply — nuzzling your face into the crook of the metalhead’s neck as he wraps you in his arms. He can feel the soft, warm puffs of breath against his jaw as Steve finally tugs your sweats down. “Your pussy’s tight, Y/N.” A kiss to your belly. A suckle to where your pelvis meets your hip. A brush of tongue against your clothed clit until you jolt upright. “But not that tight.”
You melt. You fucking burst. You don’t fucking know anymore, but either way, it’s a new area of bliss. Eddie can quite literally feel you go rigid in his grasp, sliding deeper and deeper against him until he has no choice but to tuck you under the nook of his elbow and hold you close.
You’re burning, hand clenching around Eddie’s bicep as Steve drags the squishy tip of his nose between your folds through the cotton fabric.
“Pretty cunts like yours deserve to be treasured.”
“Please, Steve…” His brown eyes flicker up to you attentively, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your mound as your hips impatiently stir against the bed. “Fuck — just… just take me right now. Please. Eddie, tell him, please.”
“Oh, sweetheart…” Eddie purrs, palming at your tits teasingly. He blows cool air into your face, brushing away your bangs as his lips hug the shell of your ear. “Thought all your begging would be so much better given what Harrington’s told me. Unless he’s a liar? You wouldn’t call him a liar, would you? Beg Steve to give it to you. Beg him the way you would if it was me down there.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
They are filthy in the fucking head. They have already stripped you of your pride. You may as well just follow. You may as well turn yourself in, play along with them and this fantasy that may or may not be real. Oh, but it has to be real. It has to, when you can feel Steve’s fingers dip past the decorative bow of your panties, shimmying and shimmying until you’re bare and open for him.
You squeeze around nothingness.
“You wanna stop?” Steve runs his palm up your stomach, fingers splayed so unbelievably wide and long across your skin. It makes you lightheaded, a fixation on his smooth digits and reddened knuckles in contrast to his rose-pink complexion. “We can stop right here, whatever you want, whatever feels comfortable, baby.”
He’s being nice. It should make you feel warm inside, giddy even, that given the circumstances, he still regards you in a way that makes you feel nothing short of safe. Comfortable. But that sick, wronged part of you — the side you happen to share with your two best friends — wants him to drop the gentleman act.
Take me, take me like you have all those times before.
Why hold back now?
“I don’t wanna stop.”
Eddie leans over and nips at the tip of your ear. His deep whisper leaves you tingling, almost trembling at how bad you need them in you, on you, just here. “Then beg.”
“I…” You whimper, cheeks growing hot as you feel their eyes study you. “Steve, I just… please? Please, I don’t…”
“You know what? Maybe we shouldn’t.”
“No! No, please fucking touch me.” You gasp shakily, biting your pride back and digging your nails into your calves before you’re spreading your legs farther to satisfy him, entice him. “Please touch me. I need it, need you s-so bad. Steve, please?”
He hums. You aren’t sure if it’s a sound of approval or one of uncertainty, but either way, your pathetic manner of begging does the trick. For now.
And you’re thankful that you’re home alone because the moan that’s ripped right out of your throat is almost animalistic, maybe even concerning, when Steve dips his face between your thighs and finally puts his mouth on your throbbing sex. Your head lolls back into Eddie’s neck, his fingers coming to stroke the strained vein in the column throat as you arch against him and rut against an unmistakable, very-acute pressure on your tailbone.
He’s hard.
Meanwhile, Steve is gently swiping his tongue over your folds, suckling at your clit before he’s dipping the muscle in and out of your fluttering hole.
“That’s it, Harrington.” A deep chuckle erupts from Eddie, his breaths growing deeper with each moan that leaves his companion. “Go to town on her.”
You’re basically panting for air, pulled under as Steve drags a heavy palm down your outer thigh, slapping where it rounds into the shape of your ass. It stings harshly, a burning bloom of irritation before he does it again and it stings even more.
But, fuck, does it feel good.
Steve’s nose presses against your bundle of nerves as he stretches his tongue into you. His expression is pulled into a concentrated scowl, knitted brows and muffled moans while he decides to stroke the pad of his finger against your entrance and gapes at what he discovers.
“You’re so fucking wet right now… Christ.” Agonizingly slow, Steve pushes a digit inside your cunt, curling it so that it hits that spongy desperate part of you that makes you croon and twitch in Eddie’s arms. You nearly gush at the sensation.
“There we go, princess. Mmm, fuck, you take good care of my girl, don’t you, Harrington?”
Eddie is exceptionally fucked and twisted in the head. You think it’s a power play, him enjoying his one-up, best foot forward against Steve because he had you first. My girl. My girl. It’s warranted, valid — wrong in all the right ways — but he’s not lying, because Eddie took the initial bullet that was his desire for you.
“Play nice, Munson. Sharing is caring.”
“Then stop messin’ with her like she’s a plate of mush.”
Quite frankly, you feel like a plate of mush.
It stirs him, competitively pushes the brunette to go harder and before you know it, his fingers are squelching down there. It’s wet, erotically messy, probably would’ve been gross to any other guy but it’s Steve and Eddie, your best friends who happened to be fucking perverts with a soft spot for you, so who cares?
Eddie does not mean to claim you. Especially claiming ownership over someone who, obviously, isn’t his if there’s easily another man inside you. But Eddie knows your body, he knows no other body like yours because it didn’t just stop at graduation night.
Maybe Harrington hasn’t caught on, but you’ve always been Eddie’s first love in all the ways that count. It’s truly unfair.
It’s even more unfair knowing that you’ll always favor Steve over him.
But it’s okay. The bed’s big enough for three.
Your hand grips Steve roughly by the wrist, forcing his hand down the drenched seam of your cunt even more.
“T-there… right there, just… want it hard, and — and fast… don’t need you to be gentle.”
“She’s blushing, Eddie.”
You blubber, eyebrows creasing with confusion as your voice gets caught in your throat and you rasp brokenly in immediate defense, “I don’t blush.”
Steve laughs. Loud. Shocked. Eyes-wide and mocking as he repeats your words under his breath and smirks up at Eddie. I don’t blush.
At this point, you’re just annoyed. “Oh, well, not you, honey.” You yelp in surprise as Steve scissors his thick fingers knuckle-deep, coating his skin in creamy arousal. “I was talking about your pussy.”
Instinctively, your smaller hand darts out to grab Eddie’s thigh, but instead, you’re met with something very hard, very much not his knee nor his leg — but his cock. The silky feeling of it in your hand turns you flustered. His red, heavy balls spill out from the waistband of his haphazardly-tugged boxers pooling below his taut hips.
The barbed-wire tattoo that wraps across his thigh taunts you, the faded bat wings on his abdomen just waiting to be tasted. You salivate at the thought of… fuck, nevermind. You can’t even think straight.
It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but in the context of all this, it’s a sight that unhinges your jaw and causes you to try to squeeze your legs together — Steve feels the change in pressure around his head, how your thighs press harder against either ear, clenching and clenching till he has no choice but to lap at your cunt till you let go.
“F-Fuck, Steve… I’m… fuck, your mouth, it’s…”
A shared moan from Eddie and yourself cuts your blubbering short as you give his long shaft an experimental tug, running your thumb over his shiny slit till he’s hissing at you.
“Jus’ like that, Y/N.” Eddie groans, a hand coming to stroke the back of your head till he’s grasping the nape of your neck and making you watch yourself stroke his cock. “Shit, sweetheart… see what you — you do to me? God, fuckin’… you fucking slut. Christ… fuck, your hand just feels so… oh, baby.”
His chin tilts back, eyes rolling into his skull as you crudely lick the palm of your hand and reach for his balls, coating him in a glistening film that has you drooling beneath the surface. “Let me make you feel good, please?”
“Yeah? That what you want?” He grits out, sighing as you drag your tongue along the ink on his pelvis.
“Please?”
“Since you begged so nicely,” Eddie hums, leaning back on his elbows as your tiny fist instantly reaches for his heavy cock. He nods at it, dropping his look from your clouded eyes to where his cock rests against his lower stomach. “It’s all yours. Go crazy. You know how I fucking like it.”
Messy. Loud. Disgusting.
Fingers covered in saliva as you pump him in your grasp, massaging the sensitive ridge under his tip with each upward stroke. A squeeze to his shaft everytime Steve pumps his fingers out of you and rubs your clit just the way you need him to. Eddie’s hands wander over your hips, gripping you flush against him until you’re leaning over to take his cock into your mouth.
Stuffed full of Steve’s fingers and stuffed full of Eddie’s dick. What a predicament.
“Shittt…” Eddie hisses as you take him, lips suctioning around the aching head of his dick before you’re dragging your tongue down the velvety, wet base of him. He shudders visibly once again. “Jesus fucking Christ, baby. You’re g-goddamn divine.”
You try to suck him in deeper when Steve adds another finger, his tongue lapping at your needy clit as Eddie instinctively pushes on the back of your head and shoves you further down his cock. He holds you there, mewling at the way saliva and cum dribble down his ruddy shaft, pooling around his balls.
You gag disgustingly loud, retaliating with a heavy swat to his arm before you realize your own orgasm is approaching hard and fast once he finally lets off and gives you air.
“Fuck. Fuck. Steve, b-babe… I’m — oh, shit… m’gonna cum if you keep…”
“If I keep doing this?”
You sob into Eddie’s neck as Steve scissors his fingers in and out of you, the naughty squelch of your cunt overpowering the white noise of your childhood bedroom. It’s lewd, how your knuckles glisten with Eddie’s thick pre-cum, Steve’s fingers serving as a direct mirror to that when you find release and gush around him.
“Fuck, Y/N! That’s hot. That’s really fucking hot. Shit, I just made you squirt.” He exhales shakily, a shy laugh falling at the end of his ramblings. “Always wanted to do that. S’just so sexy when you do it — fuck — I wanna watch you do it again.”
Steve’s cock throbs intensely beneath you as you christen his mouth with your arousal, his jaw wet and chin shiny as he languidly moves his mouth side to side against your clit.
“O-Oh, god… s’too… m’too sensitive, I… Steve…”
Like a starving man, his strong hands keep you pinned down when he wraps them around your hips, feeling for your ass and spreading you wide while you soak his face.
“Whose cock do you want inside you first, sweetheart?” Eddie rasps, his free hand resting over yours as he drags it up your ribs, the swell of your breasts, brushing over your hardened nipples before he brings it back down to your stomach. Stroking and stroking, teasing you as your other best friend peppers the insides of your thighs with gentle kisses. “Thinking about how tight you probably are right now, even if Steve fucked you open with his fingers, I bet that little cunt of yours is still just as tight as that night in the garage, yeah? Yeah, it is.” He chuckles, drawing hearts on your hip bone. “Are you gonna let me fuck it? In front of Harrington? Let him watch me stick my cock inside it for the first time? Let him watch the way your eyes just… droop all sleepy and fucked-out when I cum in you?”
Steve laughs, smiling to himself as he wipes the slick from his mouth, collecting it with the pad of his fingers before he’s wiggling the digits in front of Eddie’s mouth.
“Taste her,” He says without shame, eyes moony and half-lidded as Eddie slowly wraps his lips around them. Eyes locked on Steve’s, he fucking moans at the flavor of you. “Sweet, isn’t she?”
He releases him with a pop, grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Oh, she’s the sweetest.” He drawls, tongue darting out to lick the space between Steve’s fingers. “You wanna watch me fuck her now, Harrington? Promise you can stick it in her pussy later.” Eddie’s hand cups your jaw, lolling your head back against his shoulder so he can smirk down at you. His doe-eyes swirl with some sick form of tenderness, and the crude denotation of his next words almost fly right over your head when his gaze flickers back up to Steve. “As long as I get her ass.”
A gasp rips out of you when Eddie pulls you up by your underarms, your tender cheek falling against the mattress while Steve lingers at the foot of the bed, arm propped up against the post — where he stands now fully nude.
Your eyes shamelessly rake over his length, admiring the groomed bush of hair around his base, his athletic frame, the girth of his arms. He pumps his cock in front of you, your attention fully directed to him as Eddie undresses himself behind you.
“Staring is rude, y’know.” Steve quips, breathless as he runs his thumb over his meaty tip with a cocky grin. He nods down at his prick, the shaft darker than the rest of him. “You think you can take it, babe?”
“I… I think so. It’s — you’re just so…”
“Big?”
“Perfect.” You gulp out, palm coming up from the mattress to reach for him. “You’re just perfect, Stevie.”
And you swear that Steve blushes. His cheeks tinge pink, freckles prominent on the bridge of his nose as a faint smile lingers across his pillowy lips. But before you can even let your nails excitedly skim across his abdomen, Eddie yanks you back by your hips, ass arched up into the air as he pries your legs apart with his knee.
The action takes you by surprise, your neck twisting to look helplessly over your shoulder up at Eddie. “What are you—“
He leans over you, caging your body with his. You gag when he shoves his fingers past your lips, clutching at his wrist while Steve’s darkened eyes meet his. “Spit.”
Fuck. Okay.
Maybe you really should’ve been patient and lost your virginity to one of them when you got back.
Eddie pulls away; strings of saliva connect to his palm, to which he uses as makeshift lube for his ruddy cock. You study the way he languidly spreads the thick glob up and down his dick, the filthy wet squelch of it causing heat to pool into your belly.
You jolt when you feel his fingers skim over your entrance. “E-Eds…”
The aftershocks of your previous orgasm still linger, evident due to the tremble of your thighs and the deep furrow in your brow as you take a moment to brace yourself.
“Sensitive, sweetheart?” Eddie’s curious voice crackles, the tip of his finger dragging along the backsides of your thighs, tracing the curve of your ass. “S’okay, Y/N. I’ll go slow. At first.” He quips, sincerity and amusement dripping from his tone all at once. His mouth dips down, kissing the planes of your shoulders, your spine, the dip of your tailbone. “Don’t get in your head about it. I’m gonna take care of you.” Eddie whispers, taking his cock into his fist and running the tip along your cunt. You choke on a moan, feeling him slowly split you open. “I a-always take care of you, don’t I? Fuck. Fuck. Shit, you’re — Y/N, baby, you’re already… already squeezin’ me, fuck. S’okay. Fuck. It’s okay. K-Keep clenching my dick like that and this’ll be over so… fast.”
“Eddie!”
You make a move to look at him, but Steve’s hand finds your jaw, pulling your gaze back. “Eyes on me. Tell me how it feels.”
“It’s…” You clutch at the sheets, syllables lost on your tongue as you mewl scandalously. “I can feel his cock s-stretching me out. M’just… just so wet for him.” You sob as Eddie bottoms out, his balls grazing against your clit. His lips meet the crook of your shoulder as he stills inside you. “So wet for it. Please. Please. Fuck, I need… need more. Need, oh, to m-move.” The sheets wrinkle beneath you as Eddie’s hips roll back, his cock slamming into you in deep, agonizing thrusts. “Oh, yes… yes, just like that…”
“Christ, Harrington.” Eddie lets out a grunt, thrusting in and out of you. He watches the way your folds grip around him, asshole puckering as he thumbs at it. “She’s… Jesus Christ, she feels amazing. You hear that? Shit, that’s just her pussy. Makin’ all those wet sounds like a goddamn – fuck – like she’s a little cocksleeve. Fuck yes, but you’re the real thing, a-aren’t you, sweetheart? God, I could jus’ live in your pretty cunt.” He rambles, a harsh spank landing on either of your ass cheeks.
“Fuck, Eddie!”
“I love this pretty pussy. Fuck. I fucking love it — so good. M-Mindblowingly good. Jus’ got me m-melting inside you. Fuck, Y/N. How am I ever supposed to go without this cunt? S’fucking dream, that’s it. You’re a fucking dream.”
Steve’s head falls against the intricate bedpost, face scrunched up into pleasure and agony just watching Eddie spear his cock into you. You fall further into the mattress, sweat beading off of your brow as you take in the sight of Steve’s cock dripping with pre-cum. His balls hang heavily between his thick thighs, his abs rippling under the orange glow of your lampshade.
Each stroke leaves Eddie’s creamy shaft glistening and wet, your arousal sticking to his skin and the bush of hair at the base of him as he fucks you deeply. A fist tangled in your hair, the other glued to your shoulder, his mouth pulled into a lewd ‘O’ that mirrors Steve’s handsome expression of bliss.
You whimper, eyes welling up with tears, “I’m gonna… oh, fuck, baby… m’gonna c-cum.”
“Yeah? Gonna cum on this cock?” Eddie snarls, hips quickly snapping into you. “Shit, shit, shit. Fuck, I can feel you tensing up for me. Yes, cum on it, sweetheart. S’okay, you can cum for us. Do it, Y/N.”
“So good. So — I’m cumming!”
Your whole body goes boneless against the longer-haired brunette, his arm generously scooping you up from under so that he can pull you flush against his chest. Your tits heave with every tremble of your thighs. Your cunt convulses around Eddie’s shaft, milking him as he keeps your hips firmly planted in place against his skin.
“Oh, honey. Yeah, that’s it.” Steve coos with a sweet chuckle, reaching over to cradle your face in his hands. “Came a little hard, huh? You did so well. Look at you, still so fucking hot.” He chuckles, brushing the hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. “Atta girl. Cumming on her best friend’s cock.” His thumbs prod at your bottom lip. “Who woulda thought?”
“Christ, Steve. She’s even — even tighter.”
“Yeah? Think it’ll fit?” Steve pouts, pumping himself as Eddie pulls out of you.
“Mmm, maybe. Maybe not. Can always butter you up some more, Y/N. Make sure there’s enough room for Harrington.” He snickers, “I call him big boy for a reason.”
You can only whine, too fucked-out from your orgasm to even properly respond.
Fuck. Really, that’s the only word on your mind right now.
“Hey, you with us?”
“Just…” You laugh, cut off by your own wince. “Fucking hell, just gimme a sec.”
Steve raises a brow at his friend, studying the way you roll back onto the bed, back arched against the sheets as you stretch your arms over your head and look dreamily up at him. “That good, huh?” You nod, biting your lip as he crawls onto the bed, “You think I can do better?”
A boost of confidence surges through you, the words leaving your lips airily and teasingly.
“Dunno. How about you show me, King Steve?”
“You’re gonna absolutely kill me, you know that?” The freckled brunette whispers, mouthing up your thighs before he’s rolling you on top of him, tucking your hair behind your ears as Eddie comes to kneel behind you, kissing the nape of your neck. “Calling me King Steve like it doesn’t turn you on when you say it,” He chuckles, rubbing up your thighs. “You rode Brad’s cock?”
“No. And his name… is Matt,” You grin, splaying your palms over his chest. “Play nice, tiger.”
“This is nice.” You guide him into your entrance, moaning as you sink down past his tip, the head of him catching on the swell of your clit. Steve’s head falls back against the bed, plump lips parting with a sigh as you take him to the hilt. “God, but this cunt is even nicer — shit, Munson, you weren’t lying.”
“Fuck, Steve. It’s… fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, my god.” His thick cock spreads your folds open, the pink tint of his cock turning slick with your cum as you shakily pull yourself up and down his length. “Feels so good. Oh, your — please…”
Eddie’s arm wraps around your hips, his finger coming to circle your clit while his free hand spreads your ass apart, his dick nudging against your tight hole. “Do you trust me?”
Your jaw lolls back against Eddie’s shoulder, eyes fluttering in pleasure as Steve meets your thrusts. “Y-Yes, please. Just — fuck, need both of you. Need it inside m-me. Put it in, Eds. Please, put it in.” You beg tearily, resting your hand against his taut stomach.
“I’ll go slow.” He whispers, kissing your cheek before taking a hold of your neck. “So slow, you won’t even know I’m here. Jus’ focus on the way Harrington breeds that cunt, yeah? Guy fucking loves that shit. You tell me to stop — you tell either of us to stop and we will, understand?”
“I understand.”
“Good girl. You have lube for me?”
Your jaw falls open as Eddie slips a finger into your ass, the ring of muscle sucking the digit deeper and deeper inside as you fuck yourself on Steve.
“In my — my luggage.”
“Tsk tsk, naughty.”
You lose yourself in the tangle of limbs and shifting of blankets, your knees knocking against the mattress as Eddie finds his way back to the pair of you.
“Can’t believe you — you’re riding me right now. Holy shit, you look so… so beautiful.” Steve gasps out between wet strokes, worshipping your body with an open mouth, “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting this? Wanting to be inside you? Oh, and I get this pussy all to myself?
“I’ve always — fuck — always wanted to know how big you are. How it feels to be… to be filled up with my two favorite people in the world — oh, harder.” You growl, feeling a cool liquid squirt down your skin. The lube is warm, slippery as Eddie drenches everything in it, the sloppy squelch of his fingers working into your ass are enough to make your face heat up and hide in Steve’s shoulder. “Harder.”
“You really want this?” Eddie rasps, scissoring them in and out. “You think your virgin ass can take me? I think you need more time, baby. Gotta ease you into it.”
You reach around you to grasp his cock in your hand, panting against him while Steve continues to fuck the slick channel of your cunt. It’s devastating, how he hits every part of you, the crude squelch of it all, how Eddie grips and grips at your ass till you’re basically laying over Steve’s chest.
“I want it.”
“Breathe, then.”
It feels like hours before Eddie really does anything, just the cruel fingering of your ass accompanied by the pounding of Steve’s cock into you. Then eventually, there’s the sliminess of the lube, the glistening of two well-endowed ruddy cocks, happy trails and velvet skin slowly being swallowed by your cunt and ass.
The first few moments of Eddie’s tantalizing press of his cock against your puckering hole is enough to have you jolting forward in Steve’s arms, a comforting shush lulling you to a calm as the boys kiss down your body — worshipping you, soothing you, enticing you.
“Oh, my god!”
It’s… it’s too fucking much. The titillating burn of it. The building pressure. You feel like you’re being pulled under and under, endlessly being filled up by him until he’s drawing his hips back and pushing into you all over again.
“Relax, Y/N. You gotta relax, or I can’t — fuck, I won’t be able to take care of you.” Eddie kisses along the slope of your shoulder, his inked thighs entangling with Steve’s bare ones as he leans over your backside. “Okay?”
You nod and exhale sharply, letting yourself become mush between Steve and Eddie’s bodies as he drives into you from behind, using your ass the same way he had used your sopping cunt. Their cocks drive into you, bone mashing against bone, skin slapping against skin, warmth oozing out of you until you feel like you’re on fire.
“Does it feel good, honey?” Steve grunts from beneath you. The look on his face nearly makes you cum — hair tousled, eyes half shut as he groans deeply. His aching arms ripple, holding you against his chest as Eddie sloppily ruts into you from behind. “You want us to go faster? Make you squirt over both of our cocks? Fuck, taking it in the ass makes you so tight.”
You lose yourself in Eddie’s kisses, the way he drags his lips across your jaw and down your bruised neck, the way Steve sits up to toy with the peak of your breasts, his tongue swiping over the sensitive nubs.
Numb. Boneless. You can’t think.
“Think she’s gonna cum, Harrington. Just look at her.”
Steve cooes, flicking his finger over your swollen clit.
“You gonna cum, princess?” You gasp loudly as Eddie draws his hand across your ass, spanking you brutally until your face is buried in Steve’s collarbones. “Fuck, Eddie’s right… this cunt is — fuck — such a dream. Shit, you’re close. Think I’m gonna cum, t-too. M’gonna fill y-you up, Y/N. Fuck...”
“Yeah? Gonna breed my pussy?”
“Oh, that nasty mouth.”
“I want you to cum inside, Steve.”
“Fuck!” His warm seed fills you up quickly, shooting right against your walls as his hips snap into you over and over again. Relentless. Unforgiving. Your cunt fluttering and leaking with his own spill as Steve just fucking stares and watches you become one with him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, princess. It’s — oh, you’re… m-milking me. Oh, shit. Shit!”
They’re both balls deep inside you and yet all you can think about is how you’re one-hundred percent never walking again after all of this is over.
Your own brain melts before you can even get a word out, turning you into a broken record of strangled moans and incoherent begging.
Princess, you like it when Eddie fucks your ass, don’t you?
Just wait till you give Harrington a turn.
You’re gorgeous like this, letting us stretch your little holes out just ‘cause we’re best friends — god — you dirty, wet girl. I’m never getting enough.
So pretty. So fucking p-pretty.
You cum instantly, your orgasm sneaking up on you from behind and swallowing you whole. Your release has you convulsing shamelessly in the boys’ arms, your mouth claimed by each of theirs as you switch between Steve and Eddie, then Steve again, and Eddie once more until your body refuses to recognize whose skin is whose and who tastes like what.
“Christ,” Eddie grits out. “Christ, your cunt is — you’re strangling my cock, baby. Baby. Oh, fuck, baby.”
Everything comes in a rush. Words lose their meaning, their formation and elegance (if you could even call dirty talk elegant) as Eddie’s ramblings get strung together and Steve’s hands roughly find solace on your thighs. The warm bloom in your ass almost makes you cum again, and you moan wantonly as Eddie jerks and vibrates against you.
You wince when they pull out at nearly the same time — almost as if they had coordinated it — and you wince when you feel their spend trickle down your thighs.
Your cunt clenches around nothingness as you sputter with their cum, your asshole puckering against Eddie’s face while he watches you gape between his hands. You whine when his finger prods at you, a hiss leaving your lips when he eats the cum from both of your holes.
Then, he slurps. Loud.
Definitely going to hell.
“Fuck.” You let out a breathy chuckle, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes to stop seeing the fucking stars that keep pulsing in your vision.
Unable to support yourself, you lazily collapse between the lanky bodies of Steve and Eddie, long limbs tangling with yours.
Steve kisses your temple, nuzzling his face under your chin. “Better than Brad?”
Silly boy.
You laugh again, harder this time, almost forgetting how sore your lower muscles are when Steve presses the curve of your nose against your neck and Eddie casually slings an arm over your stomach like he hadn’t just fucked your ass. “Better than Brad.”
“Thought his name was Matt.” Eddie huffs, tracing the blossoming hickey on your hip.
You glance at either of them, bringing your hands up to stroke their flushed cheeks before you’re giving them a gentle peck on the buttons of their noses. “I could give less of a fuck about Matt.”
“Good.”
“Can we please go get dinner now? You know, to celebrate my return and everything.”
Steve and Eddie collectively groan, burying themselves closer against you with sleepy eyes and sweaty skin.
“Just a little longer.”
“Eddie…”
“Meh.”
“Steve…”
“Nope.”
Theirs. Theirs. Theirs.
And it’s then — between your best friends’ naked and warm bodies, freckled skin and D&D-themed tattoos, soft long hair and thick romantic curls, moles and scars, the sun on your left and the moon on your right, the lingering kiss to your shoulder and the swirling fingers on your thigh — that you realize that maybe, they missed you more than you missed them.
And that maybe, you’re okay with this strange, insatiable dynamic of friendship. If you can even call it that.
After all, what are best friends for?
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redamancy | steve harrington
Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)
A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.
divider by firefly-graphics
i. the promise
"Would you ever get married?"
You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it.
You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety!
"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."
You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same.
"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married."
You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.
"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin.
"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago."
You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."
"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."
"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve."
"I guess."
You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten.
"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask.
Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."
"Dangerous."
He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."
"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."
Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious.
"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."
Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."
"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer."
"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"
"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."
You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."
Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me."
"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?"
"Not even to her."
You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.
"I'd marry you," you say.
Steve's eyebrows shoot up.
"What?"
"Like, if you were in a pinch."
He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth.
"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."
"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."
"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."
"I hope she kept the receipt."
Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth.
"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"
"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."
"I scoop ice cream for a living."
You level him with a look.
"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."
His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why.
"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says.
Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with.
"Let's make a pact," you say softly.
He meets your eye. "A pact?"
"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."
"Well, I don't want a pity marriage."
You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."
"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks.
"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say.
"I can't wait till I'm thirty."
"Or you'll turn into an old maid?"
"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat.
You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"
Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!
Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do.
"Do you mean it?" he asks.
"Of course I do."
"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"
"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."
"You'll marry me?"
"I will."
"Swear on it."
You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.
You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?
"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."
"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."
"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."
"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"
"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."
Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart.
"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night."
Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve.
"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"
"Always."
Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you.
"'Kay. See you."
You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb.
Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away.
ii. the wound
The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow.
Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though.
You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep.
Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far.
She looks away, and your not-smile falls.
"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly.
The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die.
Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that.
"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears.
"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—"
The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her.
"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand.
"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long."
They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening.
So he did. And now you're here.
You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better.
"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead.
"Come sit," you say.
"I need to see him," he tells you.
"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"
"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."
You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita.
Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait.
At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all.
"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."
Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels.
A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.
"Go on."
Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway.
"Go see him."
You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.
“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.
“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly.
Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.
"Yes, he does."
She holds out her hand.
You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.
“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there."
God, are you really that obvious?
You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.
Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter.
Steve’s eyes lock with yours.
“Hey,” is all you say.
“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats.
“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”
You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you?
You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side.
The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.
You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.
“Robin called me,” you say.
Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”
“You’re mad at me.”
Your breath is punched out of you.
“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”
His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.
You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour.
“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”
You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.
“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared."
He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you."
You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.
They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him.
But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.
You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.
His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.
"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”
"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't."
You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his.
iii. the brand
“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.
“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.
“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.
It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.
“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks.
“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.”
“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”
Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve.
“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.
“Me?!”
“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”
“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”
“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”
“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.
As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.
“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just checking.”
“Are you okay?”
He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.
“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”
“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.
“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”
He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair.
"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."
"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly.
"Pot, kettle."
"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."
"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks.
"If you get us there in one piece, yes."
Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers.
"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"
"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say.
Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve.
"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."
"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says.
You scoff. "More like the other way around."
He pouts. "Hey."
"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van.
"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks.
You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"
"No!" all three say.
"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters.
Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops.
"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"
"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"
"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat.
You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve.
"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."
Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment."
"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded.
"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests.
"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."
"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."
You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years.
But this? This is way, way beyond that.
"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"
You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair.
"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."
Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."
"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."
Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"
You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always.
"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"
You wince at the wording.
"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."
You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."
Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve.
"Right, so I'll just…"
You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest.
"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."
"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly.
Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time.
"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke.
Steve smiles gently. "Hey."
His tone is fond. You feel sick.
"Everybody good?" Eddie asks.
He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection.
"You two look cozy."
"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already."
Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.
It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again.
You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation.
“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”
Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.
“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.
He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.
“Really, Munson?”
“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”
“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.
Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs.
God, you’re never living this down.
“Y’okay?”
Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.
“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”
“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”
Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip.
Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin.
The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.
Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.
Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.
Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight.
He looks like he's yours.
"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation.
He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question.
"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you."
He relaxes.
"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."
"Uh-huh."
You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.
The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not.
Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there.
Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks.
"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."
You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face.
iv. the secret
It's raining. You're in Steve's bed.
Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent.
You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you.
"Do you think he'll come back?"
You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though.
Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight.
Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married.
You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars.
"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness.
You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light.
"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."
He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you.
God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you?
"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper.
Steve squeezes your hand harder.
"No one's gonna die."
You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles.
"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?"
"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again.
"You can stay here as long as you want," he says.
"I can go back to my room."
Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.
"Don't," he says.
"Okay."
You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive.
The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him.
His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair.
It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.
+ and, finally, the first.
"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for.
"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."
He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away.
"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"
You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.
"What?" Steve asks, looking at you.
"You're funny, that's what."
"I am?"
"You sound like somebody's grandpa."
"I do not!"
"Do too," you say sweetly.
"Do not."
"Do too infinity."
Steve rolls his eyes.
"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."
"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man."
"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart.
You smile. Steve shakes his head.
"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."
"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart.
"And you don't push the cart."
You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven."
"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?"
"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle.
You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.
“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”
“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”
You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you.
“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”
You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.
“What?” you ask.
Steve shakes his head.
“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”
“Steve, seriously. What is it?”
He shakes his head again.
“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”
He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.
The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established.
When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.
“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”
“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.
You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him.
Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot.
“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”
“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”
You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity.
“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.
“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.
You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.
“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back.
Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat.
“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”
You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.
“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”
You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.
“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”
You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty.
“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”
You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”
You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses.
Now you know: tenderly.
He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise.
You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you.
“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.
“Huh?”
“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”
You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.
“What?” he asks.
“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say.
Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times.
You hope you’ll lose track at some point.
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x yn#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fluff#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things x reader#stranger things#stranger things x you
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Trailer park Steve AU part 51
part 1 | part 50 | ao3
Knowing the weirdness is coming doesn't make it less weird.
Steve clings to Jeff's warning like a lifeline in the days after the attack, as Eddie swings wildly from withdrawn and paranoid to brash and itching for a fight. One second he's tackling Steve in a public park, sweeping him off his feet and swinging in a wide, reckless circle, the next he's shooting dodgy glances over his shoulder and suggesting they come up with some kind of tapping code when they want to communicate the urge to kiss or hug in public.
His face is a mess for weeks.
He doesn’t want to talk about it.
Hardly wants to look at it — takes to avoiding mirrors and fucking Steve from behind, or turning off all the lights, or hiding his face behind his hair when he gets between Steve’s legs. Plays it off like he’s just being sexy, trying something new, ‘isn’t this exciting?’ But Steve’s pretty sure he just doesn’t want to see the worry in Steve’s eyes when their kisses hurt his face.
So Valentine's Day comes and goes, and Steve doesn't say it; doesn't say 'I love you,' because he's never sure he's going to get the version of Eddie who’s brave enough to say it back. They don't even do anything for the holiday, really, which kind of kills Steve, even if he won't admit it.
He can't help it; he's a sap.
They do share a heart-shaped box of chocolates in Eddie’s bed the day after, though. Led Zeppelin crooning softly from the record player, and Steve plays it off like he only bought them because they were half off, and Eddie gives him a gooey look and pushes him into the pillows. Blows him within an inch of his young life; smiles up at him at the end, lips slick and full and pretty. Steve thinks, maybe they're okay.
They’ll be okay.
Eddie may still be a little off, a little wobbly, but he’s laughing again, he’s silly and animated again, he’s playing guitar and making jokes, and—
And who is Steve to judge how a person, like, processes or whatever? At least Eddie’s not doing any late night demolition.
They’re gonna be just fine.
The last of the sickly yellow bruising slips away from Eddie's eye as the month comes to a close, so Steve decides to risk it. Asks Eddie out. A movie night, a proper date where Steve can pay for the milkshakes and let their thighs brush against each other when the theater lights go down.
And sure, they'll have to pretend it’s just two straight guys hanging out — do their tapping thing and keep a healthy distance, two bros being pals being buds being dudes — and that shit sucks, but it’s better than nothing.
Steve's never had to worry about PDA before. One more thing he won't admit is kind of slowly killing him; rope burn around his heart when he thinks about it too hard.
"What do you say?" he asks Eddie. They’re lounging on his couch, propped on opposite ends with their legs tangled in the middle. "You want to let me take you out to the city?"
Brookhaven isn't exactly the city so much as the closest suburb whose mall didn't get torpedoed by the commies, but there's a theater and some decent diners, and it's far enough away that they shouldn't run into any classmates looking to cause trouble.
Eddie gives him a wary look. “I don’t know,” he hedges, fingers coming up to worry the thin sliver of a scar under his chin.
Steve swallows the hurt. The twine chafing behind his ribs. "It's okay," he starts to say, but Eddie's eyes flare with defiance.
“Actually, fuck it,” he declares, slapping his knees as he stands up. Gets up onto the couch cushion, spreads his feet wide and puts his hands on his hips; Steve’s little metalhead superhero. Steve can't help his grin when Eddie shakes his hair out big and says, "Take me out and woo me, baby!"
—
part 52
tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)
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Eddie gets Steve for the party's secret santa and instead of just going out and buying him a present, Eddie spends the whole month making something personal for him, something to remind Steve that he is absolutely adored by the people around him. He's seen the way Steve dismisses any and all comments from the kids about how awesome he is, he's seen the way Steve curls in on himself whenever he's complimented or praised and it hurts to see.
No matter what they say, Steve doesn't seem to get it through his thick skull that he is the party's centre of gravity. Everyone, including Eddie, finds themselves pulled in by Steve's overwhelming love and care. He is their sun. He drops anything and everything the second he's needed by anyone but if they offer the same to him, he shies away from it, brushes it off and says he can handle it. Eddie can't remember a time where Steve actually willingly accepted his help; he usually has to forcefully grab a grocery bag from Steve to stop him from trying to take them all inside himself.
So, for his present, Eddie decides to make him a book, a book filled with everything the party loves about him and everything they appreciate him doing. It's a big book of love and all that love is for Steve. Some of the kids fill pages and pages of things they love and appreciate about Steve, Dustin draws a whole coloured comic that spreads over 5 pages and some of them just fill one page but that's okay. Eddie and Robin write enough to fill the whole book; they actually have to add more pages to the book because there's no room for anyone else to write after Robin goes full sap mode.
Nancy writes one page but forbids anyone else to read it, says it's only for Steve to see and they respect that. They leave the page next to her's blank so that no one sees it. Eddie's only mildly surprised when Jonathan asks to write in the book. He doesn't write a lot but from his sneaky glances, Eddie can tell Jonathan is extremely grateful for everything Steve's done for the kids.
When it comes time to actually give the gift to Steve, Eddie is extremely nervous. He's scared he's overstepped, that it's going to make Steve uncomfortable. Maybe he should have just gotten him that cute sweater or made him a mixtape.
Eddie opens his gift, it's a custom hellfire guitar pick and new strings; stuff he'd only talked about around Robin. He smiles knowingly at her but she acts the fool, pretends she has no idea who his secret santa was but her giant smile gives her away.
And then Steve is reaching for his present and Eddie feels like he's going to pass out. Everyone's smiling and shoving each other excitedly as Steve tears the wrapping paper off but all Eddie can do is nervously look between the present and Steve, watching for the slightest hint that it's too much, that Steve doesn't like it.
The room is so silent, the only sound is pages turning and Eddie's almost panicked breathing as Steve reads through every single page without looking at anyone in the room. He can't get a read on him, can't figure out if he loves it or hates it and then Steve's crying, his chest heaving as he gently closes the book and covers his face with his hands, tries to hide himself away from everyone. Oh, God he made Steve cry on Christmas. He feels like absolute shit.
"Steve, I'm sorry -" He doesn't get to finish because Steve pulls him into a hug so tight he can barely breathe. He feels Steve's tears soak through his shirt as he cries into Eddie's chest and Eddie can do nothing but hold him and try to read Robin's lips as she tries to communicate something to him from across the room. "Spoiler alert, I was your secret santa, but I can't tell if you hate or like your present. Just tell me straight up, I don't mind." Eddie whispers into his hair as he gently rocks them side to side. The book he made for Steve sits discarded beside them and from this angle, Eddie can see that Steve dog tagged a few of the pages. He'd been too focused on watching Steve's reaction to notice him do it.
Steve sniffs and pulls back, his eyes red and puffy. "I loved it." He moves away from Eddie and sits back in his original spot so that he can see all his friends, see all the people that filled a book with words he never thought he deserved to hear. "I really loved it. Thank you. I especially love the comic where I fight 40 demodogs even though I'm pretty sure it was only like 4." He says this while smiling at Dustin, who puffs his chest out with pride and boasts about being Steve's favourite part of the book.
"I think I wrote a whole novel in there." Robin says while scooting closer to Steve so that she can rest her head on her best friend's shoulder. "Did you even read all of it?"
Steve rests his head against hers and points to the dog tagged page in the book. "I've saved it for later. I didn't want to get snot and tears all over the page."
"Ew, you're disgusting." She shoves at him playfully but Steve catches her arm and pulls her into a hug, a hug that they both relax into, a hug that says a million things no one but them will understand.
Eddie feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders now that he knows the present wasn't one big mistake. He doesn't know if Steve read the pages he wrote, doesn't know if Steve will feel the same, doesn't know if confessing his feelings in a secret santa present was the right way to go but he can't bring himself to regret it. Seeing the way Steve pulls all of his friends into a hug and whispers something to all of them, something only meant for that person to hear, brings a warmth to his chest.
He hopes that Steve understands now. He hopes that having all of their love for him in physical form helps him realise that he is more than just a babysitter, more than a human shield, more than a bad ex boyfriend.
And to Eddie, he's more than a friend. He poured his entire heart into that book and he hopes that Steve will handle the pages carefully and that when he's ready, he'll answer the question Eddie wrote on the last page of the book.
'Will you let me love you?'
#RAHH ITS CHRISTMAS IN A WEEK#THIS WASNT MEANT TO BE THIS LONG#CHRISTMASSSS!!!!#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#st4 vol2#steveddie#stranger things s4
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It’s very hard not to kiss Eddie Munson.
Steve loves kissing, he’s nothing but a sap under all his bark afterall, warm and sweet in his affections. He’s always been good at it too, or so he’s been told.
But Steve Harrington kisses hard, in the way that he puts everything into it.
His feelings have a tendency to seep right out of his mouth, there’s no telling what Eddie would taste on his lips. It could just be the big rush that comes with something new and quickly fizzles out on Eddie’s tongue. Or it could be too much, sticky sweet and annoyingly stuck between Eddie’s teeth.
Steve can’t name it yet, how he feels for Eddie, if it’s coming from his heart or just his dick. Those two have a bad habit of mixing up and making a mess for him to sort out. It’s complicated.
Despite all of Eddie’s bravado, he’s delicate, in the way that troubled things are. Never let himself get caught up in any sap traps, runs too wild and trusts too little. Steve can’t risk opening a floodgate of it, Eddie would bolt before he let it stick to him.
So Steve doesn’t kiss him.
Not in the mornings when Eddie’s sleep-rumpled and soft, perched on the counter teasing Steve. Not after his shows, when he hops right off stage into Steve’s waiting arms. Not when Eddie sinks to his knees, opens his mouth for Steve, looking up with those wide pleading eyes that just want everything.
Not on the lips. Not where Eddie might get a mouthful of what Steve can’t hold back. Not where it’s so hard not to.
some Trouble Looks Good on You for wip wednesday (:
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Eddie's Too Late ... ?
It's about pining Eddie!! And he wants so badly to ask out Steve. Robin even might have given him an encouraging little talk about it. And he finally works up the courage to do so, and comes to family video, and he brings fucking flowers with him cuz he's a goddamn sap.
But he walks in , already smiling at Steve like always, but he's talking to some guy at the counter. Some punk lookin dude. And Eddie freezes in the door, hears the guy flirting and hears Steve laugh, flustered. And then the guy literally asks him out, and writes his number on Steve's hand when he shrugs and nods, and goes bright red.
And Eddie just, god he wants to cry. So he turns, walks back out and leaves, his chest fucking aching. Cuz he was a fucking idiot who waited too goddamn long.
And Steve hears the door clink shut, sees Eddie's back as he's leaving, sees him toss something in the trash outside. And he waits for punk guy, Jake, to leave. He's a regular. He's nice. If a little pushy for Steve's liking.
He told Steve he'd pick him up on friday. Didn't ask. And Steve had been so flustered when the guy grabbed his hand he just sort of... agreed.... maybe hoping he would leave faster.
So he waits for him to leave and then runs outside, digs in the trash and finds the flowers. And they're all yellow flowers, sunflowers mixed with daisies, and Steve even sees a couple dandelions stuck in, his eyes crinkling in a smile cuz he and Eddie had gotten into a huge fight with Robin and Nancy about whether they were weeds or flowers, Eddie and Steve on the side of flowers, of course.
And his heart flutters cuz Eddie had told him about a month ago, when he handed him this weird little yellow figurine, and Steve had asked why he was always giving him yellow stuff. Eddie had shrugged and said,
"it just reminds me of you I guess." Steve had immediately reconsidered his favorite color choice.
But Steve's heart drops because... Eddie had thrown this away... in the trash... right after he'd seen Steve with Jake. Steve feels like he's gonna puke, but he takes the flowers inside, sits them in the breakroom until its time for him to leave.
He calls Jake right before close. Wanted to wait til he was hopefully at home. Tells him he can't go out with him. Not friday. Or any other day. That he has someone.. hopefully. Jake sounds disappointed but doesn't push, thankfully. Steve grabs the flowers on his way out and drives to Eddie's.
He stops by Melvald's on the way, asks Joyce for help. They have some flowers, but nothing that says "Eddie." Joyce grabs a simple red rose and then a box of chocolate covered cherries. Steve's brow furrows and she just smiles at him and says,
"I've seen that boy buy six boxes of these at once. His sweet tooth is... a little bit alarming... actually. But it'll get the job done." She winks at him and Steve's never felt more greatful that Joyce pays attention to people, and works at the store, and is nosy like he is. He hugs her, grabs the rose and the chocolates, and runs to his car.
Eddie isn't home when he gets there. His van is there. But he's not at the trailer and Steve feels like he's gonna cry, his chest tight as Wayne tells him he left a few hours ago. Steve nods, his brow furrowing and he's about to leave when Wayne's hand on his shoulder stops him.
"Ya know the creek over off McAlpine street?" He asks, Steve nods, confused.
"He was headed that way. Likes to go there to be alone." Wayne gives him this soft encouraging smile, pats him on the back, and watches as Steve runs to his car.
He parks on the side of the road, as close to the creek as he can get. And then he runs.
He finds the creek but no Eddie at first, so he starts walking along the creekside, he rounds a bend and finally sees him.
He's crouched on the creek side, toes of his shoes just barley out of reach of the water. He's holding a stick, Steve squints and sees a small turtle walking across it, toward a big rock in the middle of the water. Eddie's crying. Silently. Tears slowly falling.
He wipes at his face every now and then with his free hand, eyes on the turtle. He smiles softly when the little thing reaches the rock. Steve smiles too. His heart thumping as he watches Eddie help this tiny creature. He takes a few more steps and then clears his throat when Eddie doesn't hear him. Eddie scrambles to his feet, startled, holding the stick out in front of him like a weapon, wiping at his face with the crook of his elbow.
"What are you doing here?" And it makes Steve shiver, so reminiscent of the boat house, when they'd found him terrified. Steve would have held his hands up in surrender, but they were a little full. Eddie’s yellow bundle of flowers on one, the rose and candy in the other.
"I found your flowers." He says, holding them up a bit and then letting them swing back by his side. Eddie doesn't say anything. Just looks away. Moves back to the edge of the creek, crouches back down, hugs his knees to his chest. Steve sighs, moves closer.
"I'm not going out with Jake." Steve says, because he needs Eddie to know. Needs him to stop hurting as soon as possible. Eddie sniffles, doesn't look at him.
"Jake." Is all he says. And Steve laughs at how he says it, he sounds so annoyed. Steve bumps his shoulder, Eddie scowls, bumps him back, harder.
"But you wanted too. You said yes." Eddie picks up another stick, pokes it into the mud.
"I only said yes cuz it took me by suprise, and he grabbed my hand and I got flustered. I didn't- he's not really my type." Steve says, leaning against Eddie as he sits, the ground is cold, and he can feel the damp soaking into his jeans a bit. Eddie glances at him. And s
Steve can see his guard coming down, just a bit.
"Oh yeah. Why not?" Eddie asks, and steve smiles. Crinkles his nose.
"Me? Dating a punk? Come on. Not a chance." Steve teases, bites his lip.
"Especially since there's this metal head that's kinda got me in a choke hold." Steve sighs, looks at Eddie. He finally turns to look at Steve, blinking slowly.
"Really?" Eddie asks, his fingers tugging at the hole in the knee of his jeans. Steve nods.
"Really. Can't seem to get him outta my head." Steve smiles, holds the rose and candy out to Eddie, Eddie just stares again. Steve wiggles the box of chocolates.
"C'mon. I know you like 'em. Joyce gave you up." Steve wiggles the box more aggressively and Eddie snatches it, then gently takes the rose, he sets the chocolates in his lap, whispering a quiet "traitor" that makes Steve smile.
"Thank you for the flowers. I love... them." Steve stumbles over that bit. Swallowing hard when Eddie’s eyes snap to him.
"You're welcome." Eddie shurgs.
"Just thought you might like some flowers. You seem like a flowers type of guy." Steve smiles, rests his head on Eddie's shoulder.
"The dandelions are my favorite." He whispers, moves and presses a kiss to Eddie's shoulder, and hears Eddie's breathing falter.
"I um... I love... my flower, too..... so thanks." He stumbles over the words the way Steve did, but on purpose, leaning away from Steve so he can look at him, a sly little smile on his face. But Steve's face is somber, his hands twitch in his lap.
"It's- I mean you don't have to sa-"
"I love you." Eddie cuts him off. Says it bluntly. And it makes Steve's chest hurt. He shakes his head, brow furrowed.
"I do though. I have for awhile. I'm just an idiot with terrible timing." Eddie bumps their shoulders, leans heavily into Steve. Steve takes a deep, shaky breath.
"I don't want you to say it just because you think I want to hear it." Steve says, his teeth worrying into his lip.
"That's not why I said it."
Steve looks at him.
"No? You didn't say it to me cuz I just like... really obviously almost said it to you?" He looks back into his lap, frowning.
"No. Although that was adorable." Eddie smiles, it makes Steve want to smile too.
"Hey." Eddie voice is soft, he reaches out, cups Steve's cheek and makes him look at him.
"Have you ever known me to say something just cuz it's something someone wants to hear?" He asks, Steve scoffs, shakes his head, looking shy.
"Okay then. I didn't say it because of that. I said it," he takes a deep breath, lets it out, drops his hands back into his lap.
"Because I saw you with that guy today-"
"Jake." Steve interrupts, smirk on his lips. Eddie pauses.
"Don't push it Harrington. I'm trying to be... serious... or something." His brow furrows, Steve reaches out, his face softening.
"Sorry. Go ahead."
Eddie huffs.
"I saw you with Jake, and it hurt. Like a lot. And I thought I lost you, ya know? Just cuz I was too fuckin scared to tell you how I feel. Cuz I love you. Cuz your GOOD. and I thought I lost it. And then you walked up looking all sad and apologetic and you didn't even DO anything." Eddie huffs again, his hands flailing.
"I hurt you." Steve mutters, Eddie makes a sound in his throat.
"Not on purpose! You didn't know! Cuz I didn't say! Jesus. All I do is talk, all of the fucking time, but I couldn't say the most important thing. And then Jake was writing his fucking number on your hand it was too late." Eddie shakes head, sighs deeply, and then turns to Steve with a smile that looks like it's half a grimace of pain. Steve nods.
"But here I am."
Eddie bites his lip, nods back.
"Here you are." Eddie says.
"Not with Jake." Steve says. Eddie rolls his eyes. Steve snorts.
"Can we never say that name again. I already hate it." Eddie grumbles.
"Fine with me. He is a regular though." Steve says, shrugs, pulls some grass out of the ground and drops it on Eddie's thigh. Eddie watches him move it around with his finger, pushing it into a pile on his leg.
"I'll burn his house down." Eddie whispers, still watching Steve. Steve barks a laugh and brushes the grass off Eddie's leg.
"Very dramatic." He says, fondly.
"Too strong? I could just steal his VCR. Don't need to rent movies if you don't have a VCR." Eddie says, his fingers moving to settling on Steve's wrist. Steve chuckles again, shakes his head, then stares at Eddie.
"I honestly can't tell if you're joking, so please don't steal anything from him." Steve moves his hand, turns it and slides it up into Eddie's, their fingers wrapping around each other, Eddie makes a weird little face, holds their hands up into Steve sightline, and then he's smiling.
"Looks like I already did." He shrugs, and Steve is about to laugh again, or roll his eyes, when Eddie presses a kiss to the back of his hand. It sort of takes Steve's breath away.
"I said I love you because that's how I feel. Okay? You believe me?" Eddie asks, his brow furrowed as he stares at Steve. And Steve remembers telling him about what happened with Nancy, remembers how Eddie had hugged him. Wonders if he loved him them. Or before that? Or after. But it doesn't really matter, because he loves him now. And Steve watches Eddie's thumb move soothingly over his hand, and knows Eddie means it. Feels that he does. So he nods, drags Eddie's own hand to his lips and kisses it, like Eddie had done.
"I love you too." Steve whispers into his skin. Eddie's free hand is at his chin then, tilting his head just so,
"I know." Breathed against his mouth, and then the softest press of lips before Eddie is leaning away just enough to breathe between them.
"Now look away, cuz I'm about to inhale this entire box of chocolate covered cherries." He whispers, his lips brushing Steve's again as he laughs into Eddie's mouth.
He does actually eat the whole box. Well, almost the whole box. He lets Steve have one, sinks his teeth into it as he holds it in his mouth and dares Steve to take it. And Steve's never been one to turn down a dare. Especially if it's sweet.
And Steve is quickly learning, there's nothing quite as sweet as candy covered Eddie kisses.
#Fates Endless Inkwell#fei#steddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#steddie blurb#steddie ficlet#my writing#mine#my fic
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The Harrington Pattern Part 12
Hey all, this story will wrap up today, so next week it will go back to just one chapter a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays and when Glitters wraps up, Sundays will go back to one a day as well.
A short chapter for the first of two, because this chapter got too long and needed to be cut down a tad and the next part fits better as a whole.
Eddie and Steve finally kiss and just giving Steve the loving crafting circle he needs.
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
****
Steve got to see where the cast ate their meals, where some of the cast stayed in large tents (for those that had traveled from out of state but couldn’t afford a hotel), he got to meet the people who sold the food to the tourists, and the people who cleaned up every night.
It was marvelous.
“So was the two events they were trying to schedule at the same time, the joust and your trick riding?” Steve asked after they left the cleaners.
Eddie grinned. “Close, the sword fighting and my trick riding. I told them that I would happily run over those bastards, but I didn’t think the horses would appreciate it.”
“I bet that got them to change their tune,” Steve said with a laugh.
“It sure did, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured.
Suddenly they found themselves utterly alone.
“Steve–” Eddie began, but Steve placed his fingers on his lips.
“Just wait,” he said softly. “There’s something I want to give you first.”
Eddie blinked at him. “You bought me a present?” he asked. Well technically he said, “Ym brut me apresemnt?” since Steve still had his fingers over his mouth.
Steve laughed and dug it out of his pocket. “It’s been on a little journey, one that nearly gave me a heart attack,” he murmured, “but Jeff was able to get it back to me in time.”
He handed the small pouch over to Eddie.
Eddie took it gingerly and rubbed it between his fingers as he looked at the small thing that Steve had made for him. But as small as the item itself was the giving of it, was massive.
“I remembered you telling me that your dice bag broke,” Steve mumbled, “and I really wanted to thank you for all your help this weekend. I don’t think I could of done it without you.”
Eddie looked up at Steve with glossy eyes. “It’s perfect, Stevie.”
“I plan on giving a bunch to Katie for her to sell while I make the bigger pieces,” Steve continued, “and Robin said that I should give the first one to you, because it’s special. And you deserve something really special, Eds. Because you’re special to me and I–”
Whatever else Steve was going to say got swallowed up by Eddie kissing him firmly on the lips.
He had just grabbed Steve by the face and locked their lips together.
Steve was stocked into stillness, but that didn’t last long as he pulled Eddie close to him and deepened the kiss.
Eddie let out a happy sigh as they parted for breath. “Wow, baby. You kiss like it might be your last.”
“Eh...” Steve said with a half shrug and a lopsided smile, “when you’ve faced more then one ends of the world, it very well could be.”
Eddie chuckled, pressing their heads together. “You’ve got me there, big boy.”
“Mhmm,” Steve said softly. “And I’ve got you here, too.” His arms tightened around Eddie’s waist, drawing them flush against each other.
Eddie swatted at him. “Sap.”
Steve kissed him again. “If I’m a sap, then you’re my tree.”
“That was corny even for you, honey,” he murmured, swatting at him at playfully.
Steve just laughed.
****
The end of the Renaissance Fair had come at last. There had been more then a few bumpy moments, but looking out at all the happy faces being lit up by fireworks, Steve was pleased with the results.
And next year was going to be even better, he had plans for helping the kids have quality costumes like Corroded Coffin boys had.
He might still have to do some altering instead of full on sewing all of the costumes, but he was really looking forward to it.
Katie had told him that he had several people offer her crazy money for the pouch he had accidentally dropped, so he promised her a dozen by the end of next week for her next Fair. In different sizes too.
Eddie had been the one to suggest that. Little coin purses, dice bags, and even handbag sized ones. Eddie was even going to help him find the right materials for it, ones that weren’t as expensive as the little dice bag Steve gave him.
Steve was really looking forward to it.
They hadn’t told the kids yet about their change in relationship. Not yet. They wanted to hold onto it for themselves a little longer.
Though, judging from the look that Will and Mike had sent him, Steve was pretty sure most of them had figured it out anyway.
So what started out with longing gazing into each others’ eyes, ended with holding hands under the cover of darkness as fireworks exploded overhead.
Steve had never been happier and he just knew more happiness was coming his way.
****
Steve was proven right when Claudia called him up the next morning.
“Good morning, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve murmured sleepily.
“I’m sorry, dear,” she said, “did I wake you?”
Steve looked blearily at the clock on the microwave. It was after ten in the morning.
“It’s fine,” he muttered, “I don’t usually sleep this late.”
“While that is certainly true,” Claudia agreed, “you also don’t normally spend three full days at a fair. Too much sun, too much fun, and too little sleep makes for a tired Steve. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Steve blushed. “Thanks, Mrs. Henderson. Was there something you needed?”
“Oh, yes!” she said brightly. “Are you free this afternoon, from around two to four?”
Steve looked over at his calendar and squinted. “Looks like it, unless the nuggets call for rides to wherever.”
Claudia chuckled. “I think they’re going to be just as tired as you and not want to go anywhere today.”
He laughed. “Yeah, probably.”
“So, me and couple of the other moms have a sewing circle every Sunday,” she explained. “And we were all wondering if you wanted to come and join us. We have punch and little treats and spend two hours working on whatever project we have going on while we fill each other in on what’s happening in our lives.”
“You gossip,” Steve accused, teasingly.
She giggled. “Gossip is such tawdry word.”
“Like your every day language wouldn’t make a sailor blush,” Steve said dryly.
“And how would you know that?” she asked, curiosity coloring her tone.
“Ma’am, your son has the worst language I’ve ever seen on a teenager,” Steve said, “and I’m damn sure he didn’t get it from his dad. Even when he was alive.”
Claudia’s giggle turned into a full on laugh. “All right, you’ve got me there, Steve. So you’ll come?”
“Yeah, I’ll be there.”
“Fantastic!” she cried. “We meet at Joyce’s this week.”
“This week?” Steve asked, already plotting what to bring as a treat and which project he wanted to start.
“Yes,” Claudia explained. “We rotate every week so that one person isn’t stuck hosting every time. And if you come often enough, we’ll have it your place once in a while, as well.”
Steve frowned appreciatively. “Sounds good. I’ll see you later then.”
Claudia squealed in excitement. “I can’t wait. We’re going to teach you how to use a sewing machine!”
That really piqued Steve’s interest. “Oh yeah?”
“It was Karen Wheeler’s idea,” she explained. “Karen doesn’t sew like the rest of us, but she does cross-stitch while we all chat. Apparently Mike was telling her about all the sewing you did for him and his friends and that it was all by hand.”
Steve nodded, forgetting she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, my parents thought sewing was for girls, so I learned by hand.”
“Make sure to bring some examples of your work,” she said. “I want to blow Olive Peterson’s mind. She’s of the same mind as your parents, even though what she does, the knitting, was originally only for men.”
“I have these pouches I’ve decided to make and sell,” Steve said with a grin, “so I can bring those to work on and bring some of the work I did for the kids to show off.”
“That’s brilliant!” Claudia said. “I see you later!”
Steve said goodbye and hung up.
This just might be the thing he needed.
****
Part 13
Don't quote me on the knitting originally being for men thing, it was something I learned when I read a 12 Dancing Princesses retelling years and years ago. The soldier in the story knitted to keep awake at night.
Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03
@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369
@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach
@danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog
@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon
@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt
@useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss
@croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv
@dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter @cryptid-system CLOSED
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Part 1 Part 3
It was an easy decision, proposing to Steve. Party because Eddie has been daydreaming about it since they got together, but mostly because he knew there was no way Steve would say no.
No, when a guy almost dies for you twice, chooses to move into a shitty apartment with you vs maintain financial security with his rich parents, and literally says he wants to be with you forever, it's a pretty safe bet that he's not going to say no to the idea of marriage.
All Eddie needed to do was get a ring. Easy.
Except it was anything but.
At the rate he was going, the proposal was never going to happen. He had gone through four jewelry stores in a span of three days, and he hadn’t found shit. They were all…wrong. Either too big and fancy, or too plain and generic. Nothing that Eddie could see his Steve wearing everyday.
In general, Steve just wasn’t a jewelry kind of guy. The one time he tried out Eddie’s rings for fun, he hated them. He was too hands on for anything clunky, and it was actually impressive how often he got them caught on his clothes in a twenty-four hour period.
But the simple bands weren’t right either. Maybe Eddie was just an obsessive sap, but…they weren’t special enough for someone as wonderful as Steve, and Eddie was running out of ideas.
So he called who he always did when he was stuck. He picked up on the third ring, and Eddie went straight into it, “Waaaaayne, I need help. And I needed it like yesterday.”
Wayne chuckled on the other end, the sound automatically bringing a smile to Eddie’s face, “What have you done now?”
“I’m in ring hell. I’m trying to ask Steve to marry me but-”
“Don’t tell me you already bought one.” Wayne interrupted, voice stern, “Did you?”
Eddie frowned, confused. He didn’t…he didn’t think Wayne would disapprove, not after all this time. Eddie swallowed, trying to hide the hurt in his voice, “Why Wayne, is that disapproval I hear? And no, I haven’t bought anything yet.”
Wayne sighed, catching onto it anyway, “Son, I don’t give a shit about what you two decide to do. If anything, you should have locked him down years ago.”
The knot in his stomach instantly disappeared, Eddie grinned, relieved, “Okay, first of all, rude. Second, if you don’t care, why shouldn't I buy a ring?”
“Because I have one already.”
Eddie stopped dead in his tracks, almost dropping the phone, “Huh?”
“Eddie, I know you, and I know Steve. I knew this day was coming and…I’ve been ready for it. It was my grandmother’s, but it’s from the 30s so don’t worry. It’s not too flowerly or anything like that.”
Jesus, Eddie was tearing up. He hadn’t expected that. It’s not like Wayne had ever had a problem with their relationship, he was beyond supportive. But Eddie hadn’t realized just how deep that support went, “I-I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t gotta say anything. I’ll send it to you and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. But I think he’d like it.”
Eddie nodded, forgetting that Wayne couldn’t see him,“Y-yeah, sounds good. Sounds perfect.”
“Good, I’ll send it tonight. And you’ll tell me how it all turns out after, right?”
“Of course. And um, hey Wayne?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you man.”
He couldn’t see it, but Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, “I love you too kiddo.”
Eddie hung the phone up on the high, nervously excited to see thing. He watched the mail like a hawke for the next week, grateful that Steve was out when it finally arrived. He tore into the small package, like a kid on Christmas morning. Rose gold and engraved, and already re-sized. Wayne really had thought of everything.
It was the exact kind of ring that Eddie hadn’t been able to find anywhere. Pretty but subtle, perfect for his Steve. He loved it, and he was almost sure Steve would love it too. And he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out, because he was going to do it the second he saw him.
Eddie didn’t care if it was corny, he was going to be on one knee the moment Steve opened the door. He sat infront of it, his stomach doing flips as he waited. There was really no reason to be nervous, Steve couldn’t have made it clearer that he was going to get a yes, but he still was.
Steve just had that effect on him.
An hour later, the tell-tale sound of keys in the door hit him. He scrambled into position, heart racing, as he waited, stuck between being intensely excited and vaguely wanting to throw up.
“I’m home- what are you doing?” Steve stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide at the sight of Eddie kneeling on the floor, ring in hand.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Eddie laughed, nervous as he watched the emotions flash across his face. He had a hand over his mouth, eyes sparkling as he looked down at Eddie, waiting for him to continue.
Words, right. He had those. Eddie took a deep breath, shaking himself out of his staring to speak,
"Stevie, you are my whole world. And I don’t go a day without thanking the universe for letting you in my life, because you made it complete. I…I never thought I would ever be as happy as you make me. You were my first love. And I want- no, I need you to be my last because there is no one else in this world that I want to be with. So…baby will you marry me?”
Eddie should have seen it coming, but that didn’t stop the surprised oomf he made when Steve tackled him to the ground. The next thing he knew he was being kissed all over his face, a manically thrilled Steve on top of him.
He grinned down at him, happy tears already falling, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
#steddie#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#steddie ficlet#steddie fic#pg versions from that one fic#adjusted into oneshots#kinda#uncle wayne#number one ally#im so obsessed with fluff im basically a pillow at this point
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rockstar Eddie posts his Spotify Wrapped and his top five songs are all Corroded Coffin songs obviously, he is their number two fan (Steve won the argument of being their number one fan years ago) and his number one artist is Corroded Coffin too but then the other four top artists? there’s Metallica sure and Dio but the number three spot goes to ABBA and number 5 is Taylor Swift?
fans are in uproar because what is happening??? Eddie also posted it with no context to his instagram stories other than saying something like ‘another year of keeping up CC’s streaming numbers, my back hurts’, the Party don’t even bother to roast him anymore because this has been happening for way longer than Spotify Wrapped has been around
Eddie makes Steve do a live reveal of his own Wrapped on Eddie’s insta stories later that day after being completely silent since posting his own and he outright cackles when Steve’s most played song is one of Corroded Coffin’s only ballads and it’s been played over 700 times, Steve just glares at him because Eddie knows that Steve plays it on repeat to help him fall asleep when Eddie isn’t there
Steve’s top songs are all the Corroded Coffin power ballads because he’s a big sap and also still finds it flattering that they’re all about him so they make him feel good after a hard day but his top artists apart from CC? ABBA makes another appearance, Madonna, Doja Cat and Taylor Swift reign supreme for him as well and you can almost hear Eddie’s eye roll from behind the camera, ‘what do they have that I don’t, Stevie?’ ‘they don’t give me a headache if I listen to them all day’ ‘divorce, DIVORCE, you see how he speaks to me’ but you can hear the fondness and love they both have for each other
all Eddie says about his own when asked later is that ABBA actually has some great lyrics and the music is technically very intricate etc etc and Taylor Swift? well Steve likes her so of course he plays her music for him when they’re together
(and if Eddie puts the song Lover on and thinks about Steve to the point of sometimes crying when he’s on tour or something despite having 40 years to get used to it, well that’s something for just him and Steve to know)
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steveddie#stranger things#stranger things 4#middle aged steve and eddie are saps sorry#steve has sat eddie down and explained the t swift drama multiple times#eddie supports her rerecording and owning her music#because why wouldn't he#I'm not even a massive swiftie but I had a lover phase earlier this year#and I liked midnights#maybe måneskin makes an appearance as well actually
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On May 17, 2004, Massachusetts became the first U.S. state and the sixth jurisdiction in the world to legalize same-sex* marriage.
Based on Alen Seress' headcanons, you can read them on Twitter (1, 2) or below.
*Also, not a big fan of the word 'same-sex', I just copied the wiki entry and I wanted to leave it unedited. Please, refrain from using it in actual conversations.
Not to be a sap but yk steddie staying together and in their early 40s one day Eddie wakes up to Steve packing for a trip and stuffing him into the car with no context and then proceeding to drive for 16+ hours without disclosing what the fuck is happening He proposes the second they cross Massachusetts border, out by the side of the road at like 3 am And he means it like a lighthearted thing, they've been together for so many years now and not like it'd be a thing when they get back home, but Eddie cries so hard he almost throws up so they spend 20 more minutes sitting on the ground in the dirt besides the highway before he properly says yes or something resembling it.
To make it worse imagine Eddie stubbornly calling Wayne until he picks up and gawks at him because have you seen the time Jesus Christ Eddie And just dropping a "dad he's my husband now" into the phone and Steve yelling "not yet Munson" and Eddie yelling "Don't Munson me" back and then "holy shit can he take our last name?" into the phone All while Wayne still tries to process the "dad" and "husband" part.
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Part 2: He sees you when you're sleeping, he knows when you're awake
a continuation of the Gargoyle Eddie story
gargoyle!eddie x fem!reader
18+Only, pls no minors, monsterfucking, gargoyle!Eddie, demon!Eddie, size kink, oral (f receiving), body sniffing, demon mischief, possessiveness, unprotected piv, a bit of m receiving oral, cock worship, demon cock, creampie. Word Count: 928
Part 3
masterlist
You wondered if maybe Goyle was gone forever, but very soon learned that he would never be too far from you. You caught a glimpse of his huge wingspan, and swore you heard his feral cry that next morning, but when you turned to find him in the bright blue summer sky---he was gone.
All the others from the funeral party went home, but when you tried to leave that afternoon, your car wouldn’t start. Come to find out, someone or something had ripped all of the wiring out from under the hood, and the engine had a huge crack in it, like it had been hit with a rock. Or a really big fist.
“Was this you, Goyle?” You whispered to yourself as you assessed the damage, checking over your shoulder to see if he was standing in the garden, glaring at you from under those wide-set, hooded eyes.
He was keeping an eye on you, but from above; perched in a squat on the third story ledge of the stone mansion. His human flesh marked in various ancient symbols, broad shoulders heaving with each breath. The unholy manroot between his legs was getting hard again, and he stoked it as he watched you, aching to bury his seed. Dark tendrils of hair blew across his face as he waited to make sure you stayed before he sprang from the ledge and into the air again.
As you were getting ready for bed that night, you heard a loud thud and a swoosh out on the balcony that made the windows shake. You didn’t have to look to know it was him, and a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.
Your greedy boy was standing there in the open doors you had left that way as an invitation, white curtains billowing across his marked skin as he crossed the threshold, eyes locked on you, his hair hanging long passed his nipples, muscles bulging in his arms and legs.
You knew he couldn’t understand you, but spoke to him anyway. “I was worried I’d never see you again,” you gushed, lifting your nightgown up and over your head, rushing over to offer your naked body to him. His dark brown eyes became black as his thick tongue came out slow to wet his lower lip.
He put you on the bed so he could smell you; this became a part of the ritual when you mated. His demon snout sniffed you from head to ass, flipping you over, splitting your legs, making sure that no one else had touched you in a way that pleased you like he did. You moaned and pulled at his hair as he tugged at your nipples softly between his teeth and ran his knuckles up and down your slit. Did you know how much he loved you? That he would burn villages to the ground for you with the flames that came from his chest?
He made a guttural growl as he held your legs wide so he could fuck you with his tongue, needing to taste that sweet, earthy sap that your body produced just for him. He sucked at your cluster of nerves until you arched your back and cried out for him, fingers clawing at his arms.
“I need you,” you whimpered, pulling at his massive shoulders to guide his face to yours. You grabbed his dimpled chin that was glistening with your arousal and he began to suck at your finger. “Want to...look at you...when I cum…”
In that moment, he wanted the same, and then you were in his arms as he hauled you up effortlessly, getting to his feet as you wrapped your legs around him. Feeling the scales from his wings against your shins, he secured your thighs in the air with his supernatural grip. He positioned you above the tip of his leaking cock, pulling your cheeks apart, so that he could sink in, and you hissed at first, hands braced at his shoulders, but then you gave an eager moan, squatting down, needing more of it. You repeated his name and clung to him as his strong arms lowered you down in bursts; your walls stretching to their limit as you took him in, throwing your head back with a curse, mumbling against his wicked mouth, whining that you needed him deeper.
Soon, he was bouncing you up and down by your ass cheeks, thrusting his hips up to meet you as you dropped down and bottomed out. He braced his legs wide as his spade tail whipped behind him, scowling at you, using a voice that was deep and feral.
Your tongues intertwined as you felt the coil unravel at your core and you babbled against his mouth, “I’m close baby please cum with me,” and just then, Goyle grunted, slamming his cock up into you one, two, three more times, and your body jerked in a white-hot spasm. The feeling of his cum filling you up made the velvet walls crash around you as your eyes locked onto his, breathless. At the peak of it, each of you professed your love to each other in a way that was, indeed, understood.
You dropped your legs from around his waist and sank down to the ground, eager to taste the mingling of each other’s spend on his cock. One of his clawed hands held your head there, his tail and wings twitching, growling as another arousal quickly mounted, while you sucked and licked him clean.
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@mmunson86 and @xxhellfiregirlxx wanted to be tagged for more demon seed. Thank you all for enjoying Goyle! I really hope he shows up soon because I'd rather be sniffed by him than do any work.
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Best friend with benefits Eddie who knows that you know what you’re doing. It’s criminal, the outfit you’ve chosen to wear today, so when you point out the pillow in his lap.. Eddie has lost enough blood in his brain to talk first and not think.
“Don’t laugh! All your fault, anyway.”
“Why is it my fault your dick is hard?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He hadn’t touched you yet but he does then, rough fingers grazing the soft, exposed skin of your thighs before he’s slipping his fingers under the hem to feel more of you.
“You sit here on my couch, in my shirt, next to me, in shorts that can’t be legal. I’m just a man, I’m weak for you, sweetheart.” He was a sap. Big, brown eyes matching the pout on his lips before he pulls his touch away, kneeling before you, pillow gone and bulge on his jeans prominent and mouth-achingly large.
“Not my fault.”
His hands are on you again the instant his knees hit the ground, his mouth following their path up your legs. As he’s kissing, biting, licking, you feel the fabric of your shorts give way and don’t have a hope they’re salvageable.
“Well now they’re definitely illegal in public,” but his voice is awed when he is faced with the damp spot on your panties. He doesn’t bother explaining why it’s your fault, not when your press your hand to his head and guide him to exactly where he wanted to be anyway.
Eddie loves head, giving more than receiving. Pussy drunk man of the year.
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#trashmunson#eddie munson x fem!reader#Eddie Munson blurb
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