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#series: stranger things
wyatthaliwells · 8 months
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El Hopper Stranger Things | Season Two, Chapter Two: Trick Or Treat, Freak
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inklessletter · 5 months
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Polaroid #1 May 28th, 1987
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sophemeva · 2 years
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Nancy : Why is Dustin crying?
Steve : I am having Max be mean to him.
Nancy: What?? Why??
Steve: He got a D in Spanish and then cheated.
Nancy : Well, you can't use Max for that, discipline your child yourself.
Robin : Nance, max got straight A's , she needs to be rewarded too.
Eddie : it's a win-win.
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steddielations · 2 years
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Incorrect Steddie 8/?
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munsonson · 1 year
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𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4
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This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. 
Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt. 
In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him. 
She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so. 
Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson. 
She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.
He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car. 
“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”
She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute. 
It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed. 
It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.
It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips. 
She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley. 
But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted. 
She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand. 
“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”
Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard. 
“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?
“And?” Dustin coaxes.
“And what?”
“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were. 
Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears. 
God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that? 
He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.
She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down. 
Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense. 
The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.
“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”
“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter. 
“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”
“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”
“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”
“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”
“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”
“Yeah?”
She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home. 
“Am I boring?”
Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”
“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”
“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside. 
“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.” 
“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”
“No, Steve, I was just asking.”
“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”
“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.
“Munson.”
She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”
“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.
She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly. 
“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.
When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.
She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.
“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”
She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.
“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”
She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him. 
“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?” 
“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”
“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.” 
“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.
“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”
“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”
She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”
“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away. 
“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”
“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”
“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.
Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.
Things would be just fine. 
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divineecelestial · 11 months
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Pretty Girl — Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
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Summary — Eddie liked you. Really liked you. You hated him. Really hated him. He was a bully and mean, and you were too damn pretty for your own good. You're partnered together for a project and things are changing between you both.
Word Count — 1.4k
Warnings — somewhat bully!eddie (not really, but it's sort of there) perv!eddie, enemies to lovers (eventually) sub!eddie, virgin!eddie (not explicitly stated here, but eventually will be in the series) somewhat dom!reader. Public situations. Kind of dry humping? Both Eddie and Reader are above the age of 18.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
You flipped a page from the book you were required to read for the project, eyebrows pinched together with concentration and your bottom lip between your teeth. Your eyes scanned over the paragraphs, occasionally widening and narrowing with whatever was happening on that particular page. He could see you were memorizing each message hidden beneath the passages, marking your notebook with a glitter pink pen. There wasn’t any possible way he was going to finish his portion of the project when he could smell the sweetness of your skin. His own notebook was forgotten, merely three sentences scribbled on the page before he was distracted by you. 
The smoothness of your thighs was peeking beneath the floral fabric of your dress, crossed and occasionally bouncing. When you weren’t writing your thoughts and answers, you brought the tip of your pen between your teeth, nibbling and lightly licking the plastic. He could feel the breath inside his lungs pulled out and his heart was moments from thumping through his chest and clothes. And, of course, his jeans tightened uncomfortably.
Your eyes slowly moved from the crinkled and yellow-stained pages of the book onto him. His fiery gaze remained etched on you as if he were engraving the spectacle before him within the confines of his mind. Lowering your book, you raised an eyebrow, inquisitive. He didn’t respond to the gesture. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. 
The dynamic between the both of you was complicated. Well, for you it was. For him, there wasn’t anything that could’ve been more simple. Since he was a kid, so for pretty much as long as he could remember, you were always there. You grew up with him. And you hated him. He pulled on the ribbons of your hair, stole your homework answers, and constantly teased you whenever he could. It didn’t matter what you did, he was always there with some snarky remarks. And he liked you. 
That’s how it started anyway.
Because when high school came, and the wave of teenage hormones as well, he didn’t just like you anymore. He was obsessed with you. He followed you around, stole your pom-poms, ruined your hair that you had spent forever doing, pulled your hair when he sat behind you and said every dirty thing that went through his head. He didn’t care if you were mean to him and called him names. Truth be told, he might’ve liked that more than he thought was possible. But you could’ve slapped and kicked him and he wouldn’t do a single thing other than thank you for touching him. He was whipped.
However, for you, things were complicated. That was an understatement. For as long as you could remember, you didn’t like him. Disliking him was easy and simple. You had been doing that for years. But things were changing and you couldn’t explain why. Well, that wasn’t the truth. You did know why. 
Two weeks ago, and you knew this because you couldn’t think of anything else other than that particular night. Your car wasn’t working and you weren’t even going to pretend to understand what was underneath the hood. The night was brimming with darkness and pouring rain and you were completely alone. You trudged to the nearest payphone, shivering beneath your sodden clothes, and called everyone you could think of. Not a single person answered. That was until you called the number Wayne had provided months ago when he suggested he could help with whatever car troubles you were having and not overcharge you. You just didn’t expect Eddie to answer. 
He was kind. The sickening kind of sweet you would find sprawled across romance novels. He called you the nicknames he had been calling you since you could remember, but it was different. He looked at you differently. Talked to you differently. Touched you differently. 
And now you were stuck with him as his partner. 
You were going to roll your eyes and resume with your book and disregard his existence as much as you could when you noticed it. There was absolutely no way of not noticing it. You glanced around, wondering if there was someone within the shadows of the empty library watching and observing. “Are you serious?” You sneered barely above a whisper. His amused eyes merely traveled to his hardening bulge. “Stop that.” 
“I can’t help it.” His voice was breathless, wisp-like. “You’re so pretty.” Your jaw clenched and your glare intensified. He brought his adorned hand onto his bulge and palmed himself. The movements were slow and deliberate, and because you were near the back of the library, there wasn’t anyone around to notice him. “If you keep looking at me like that, I can probably finish like this.” 
You were across from him, the only thing separating you from him was a small round table, and you were debating if you should kick the table at him. His eyes traveled across your body, not bothering to conceal his heavy gaze, and they stopped right where your skirt stopped. When you clenched her thighs together, he could barely see the baby-pink fabric of your underwear. His movements sputtered as he thought of crawling on the floor to you, worshiping you as he dreamed of doing. He groaned as his eyes closed, thinking of staining his lips with your arousal and kissing you until you couldn’t think of anything other than the taste of yourself mixed with him. “Yeah, I can definitely finish like this.”
Your nose scrunched as you watched his movements intently. “You’re a pervert.” Your voice, however, didn’t match your words. Because you couldn’t even understand the wetness dampening your underwear. You didn’t understand why you liked knowing you were the reason for his undoing and for his sick actions. You liked knowing he thought you were so pretty that he couldn’t wait until he got home. But you obviously couldn’t tell him that because you weren’t supposed to like any of that. You were supposed to hate him.
Yeah, things were complicated now.
You leaned closer, intentionally displaying a view of your breasts. “If you’re going to make yourself come, do it fast. We have a deadline.” Those words weren’t what he was expecting. You were tolerating him lately, even occasionally smiling before flipping him off. You were speaking to him without a bratty attitude and sitting next to him in class. He was slowly making progress. This wasn’t progress. This was hurdling over the finish line.
His gaze was ripped away from your breasts when you leaned back against your cushioned chair and he watched with sick enjoyment as you squeezed your thighs together. There was no way you were liking this. “Hurry. I don’t have all day.” Oh, God, you were really going to sit there and look pretty for him so he could come in his pants. You were letting him use you for his perversions. 
He nodded frantically, applying more pressure on his leaking cock. There was a stain soaking through his jeans and his hips were rutting against his hand, desperate for a wetness that couldn’t compare to his hand. Returning back to your book, you slowly spread your thighs open, allowing him a clear and picturesque view of your damp underwear. He couldn’t contain the pathetic whimper escaping his blushing lips. “You’re so pretty. So pretty. My pretty girl.”
He was mumbling, pussy-drunk from only the view of your clothed one. “Come on, let me see those pretty eyes.” Pretty, pretty, pretty. “Look at me when I come for you. Y-Yeah, just like that. That’s so good.” You teasingly looked away from your book and looked at him and you would’ve thought you handed a starving man a full-course meal from the way he crumbled beneath your gaze. “Fuck, you can’t be real.”
So, so, so pretty.
And then you smiled.
He moaned pathetically loud and you watched with twisted enjoyment as the stain on his crotch spread. Watching a man who’s tormented you for so long become undone simply from your gaze was empowering. Addicting even. He was breathless, shaking, and beads of sweat dampened his flushed skin. Bringing your leg back down and closing your book, you gathered your supplies and belongings and stood from the chair. You looked down at the embarrassingly large patch of cum seeping through his clothes and smiled. “I’ve gotta go. Same time tomorrow?”
Yeah, things were definitely different now.
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rainylana · 1 year
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“Hush.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: you find porn under eddie’s bed.
warnings: smut, insecure reader, innocent reader, porno magazine, blowjob, daddy kink towards the end, spanking, fingering, fluff, edging, dirty talk, decrophylia, the causal dominance in this will kill you. i’m in love with this one omg i got so horny writing it help. please let me know what you think!!
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Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to snoop through his stuff, but you knew damn well he looked through yours every chance he got. He was in the shower, and you were freely looking through his drawers, not looking for anything particular. You were just bored. He’d asked if you wanted to join him, and you had just blushed deeply, making him laugh before he tugged off his shirt.
He really needed to deep clean his room, but you knew he wouldn’t. He hated cleaning, hated organizing. Every surface was covered in dust and spider webs decorated the corners. Trash littered the dressers with old pop bottles. You knew he wouldn’t do it, so you figured you’d have to.
Sighing, you started picking up some of his clothes off the floor to put in his dingy hamper, your bare feet sinking into the carpet with every step. You could hear him humming in the shower, his voice echoing off the shower walls. You were able to throw away most of his trash and make his bed, even though you were going to mess it up soon, anyways. You dusted a few tables and even lite a candle. There were a few boxes on the floor that you scooted off to the side. After having nowhere to put them, you pushed them to the bed.
A magazine was peaking out underneath his mattress, and you curiously took it in your hands, eyes widening at the cover. Your face blushed deeply, quickly looking to make sure Eddie hadn’t suddenly appeared back in the room. There was a woman on the cover, a very attractive one that immediately made you self conscious. You started flipping through it, lips parting in shock at the graphic images on the paper.
The first page, a woman tied up. She was being flogged by a man in a mask. The second, another model handcuffed and gagged on a bench. Each page was filled with vile images, yet they made your belly flip flop. Your face burned shamefully. Just as quickly as you had picked it up, you placed it back in its original hiding spot. It wasn’t any of your business.
Yet, you couldn’t seem to force yourself to clean anymore. You sat on the bed, biting your thumbnail anxiously. You suddenly felt very insecure. See, you were a quiet girl. You had friends, but not many. You liked your privacy and alone time. You had many doubts about yourself and Eddie knew it. He tried to help you as best as he could, assure you daily that you were beautiful, his best girl, but you had a talent for letting negative thoughts get the best of you.
“Why the long face?” Eddie announced himself, causing you to jump in your seat. You hadn’t noticed him come out.
“Oh- nothing.” You shook your head, trying to force a smile as you admired his body, nothing but a white towel around his waist. “I cleaned for you.”
“I can see that.” He laughed, opening his closet to find a pair of boxers, dropping his towel to the floor. “If you were that bored, baby, I told ya you could’ve joined me.”
You blushed again, fiddling with your fingers. You were having trouble forgetting the magazine, the women you saw. Of course, you knew they didn’t look like that in real life, but still, the insecurities flooded in. You were new to sex. You and Eddie hadn’t been dating all that long yet, only about six or seven months. Sex was obviously great, but the magazine made you question if he wanted more with you, if he wasn’t satisfied.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie shook the towel against his hair, now clad in black boxers that showed off his prominent bulge.
“Nothing.” You smiled softly, running a hand through your hair. You hated that your eyes started to prickle.
He threw the towel on the floor, watching you questionably. “You look like you’re getting ready to cry.”
“No, I’m fine.” You turned your back, picking at the skin around your fingers. “Just sleepy.”
“You sure?” He asked, coming to sit down beside you. He frowned when your eyes were full of tears. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I’m okay.” You blinked heavily, waving your hand.
“No, you’re not. You’re crying.” He grabbed your knee, dipping down so he could see your face. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
Your face was burning red, a tear slipping down your face as you sniffled. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Well, I do.” He pushed, tucking your loose hair behind your ear. “I wanna know what’s got you upset. Come on, tell me.”
You whined, keeping your head in the opposite direction so he didn’t see you. When he questioned you like this it wasn’t hard for you to break. “I just- fuck,”
Eddie widened his eyes. It was rare for you to curse. You even criticized when he did it. “Woah, there, holy mary,” He chuckled. “Thought we were supposed to watch our language, huh?”
Your face was beat red and you couldn’t stop thinking about the magazine. “Do you think I’m pretty?” You turned to him, eyes full and bright.
“What?” He said confused.
“You heard me.” You blinked. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful, y/n.”
You pondered with his answer, looking down at your lap. “Well, I don’t think so.”
“That’s stupid.” He answered without a beat, shaking his head. “Don’t think like that. I don’t want you to. You’re beautiful and you know it.”
“But I’m not like them.” You whined, fisting your hands with a cry. “I’m not skinny like those models. My hairs not shiny like theirs, it’s just a big fucking rats nest!”
Your outburst made Eddie recoil, eyes widening in shock at your admittance, but it out the pieces of the puzzle together. “I take it you found my magazine?”
Your face burned as you nodded.
“Baby,” He grabbed your shoulder, turning you toward him. “Look at me. Hey, come on, look at me.” He tried to find your eyes. “I’m sorry you found that. I shouldn’t have it, I know. I promise you I don’t…well, you know, with it anymore. Not since you and I started going out.” He said honestly, wiping away your puffy tears. “But you know those girls in there aren’t actually like that, honey.”
You did, but it didn’t help. “I know.” You tried to look down but he kept your eyes on him.
“And anytime I’ve ever…used it, I’ve only ever thought of you, I promise.” He assured you, grabbing your hands, his hair still damp from his shower. “I’ve always thought of you doing the things in there. Not the other girls. It’s always you.”
You stared at him, looking for any sign of a lie. You didn’t find one. You swallowed awkwardly. “I only looked at a couple pages.”
“What did you see?” He rubbed your knee, scooting closer so your shoulders were pressed together.
“Uh,” You tried to remember, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “A bench.” You stared at the wall. “A girl on a bench being flogged, and one girl with handcuffs over a man’s knee.” Eddie stared at you, making it much more difficult to say such profound words.
“I’m sorry that it upset you.” He frowned.
You shook your head. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have been snooping. I was just trying to clean up, a bit.”
An awkward silence filled the energy between you. Eddie didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to scare you. But you were still curious after what he had said. “You said you think of me.” You turned to him, eyes no longer wet. “Is that true?”
He nodded.
“You picture me instead of those girls?”
He nodded again.
“Is that…what you want to do to me? That turns you on?” You didn’t know where this sudden urge of confidence came from, but it shocked both you and Eddie.
“Yes.” He felt a twitch in his boxers, looking at your lips. “The idea excites me.” He knew he had to be careful with he said. You were like a baby deer, anything could scare you.
You nodded this time, gulping as you looked at his chest. “I see.”
“What are you thinking?” He asked quickly. “Be honest with me.”
You liked it, the idea of him doing that to you, it was just scary. You didn’t know how to do it. It would be in his hands, which you were okay with. “It’s intriguing.” You looked at him through wet lashes. “Just..kind of scary, too. Do you think we could try it?”
He couldn’t help but smirk, making your tummy flop. “I don’t have a bench, baby.”
“Well, not that.” You shook your head quickly. “Not that. But maybe..I could, uh-”
“Take a breath.” He instructed you, lifting his chin. “Don’t rush.”
You did as he said, taking a deep breath through your nose and out your mouth. “You could put me over your knee.” You opened your eyes to look at him, body almost shaking with nerves.
“You want me to spank you?” He rubbed the back of your neck, a look in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. It made your stomach twist together. “That’s what you want?”
You thought you might faint. You felt a throb between your legs that made you tremble. “I want you to do what you want.” You shrugged your shoulders.
“No, no,” He shook his head. “No, this isn’t about me. It’s what you want. You’ve gotta be honest with me, baby. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
It was what you wanted, you just didn’t really know how to ask for it. He knew you were nervous. Your face was on fire and you were picking at your nails. He rubbed your knee comfortingly.
“I want..” You took a breath. “I want to try what was in the magazine.”
“And what is that, exactly?” He got closer to you.
You swallowed hard, looking down to his lips. Oh, how badly you wanted to kiss him. “I want you to- to uh, to spank me.” You struggled to find the words, choppy and fractured they came.
He put his lips on yours in a desperate, hard kiss, one that knocked you back a ways, his nose pressing against your own. You moaned into him, making his cock harden in his jeans. He loved the sweet sounds you made. He scooted closer till he was right beside you, oh so confidently reaching between your thighs to cup your pussy with his palm. You gasped into his lips, parting away, but he connected them back, mixing his tongue with yours and gritting teeth.
He rubbed you over your shorts, warm and wet. You were so needy for him you wanted to cry all over again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest. His other hand was in your hair, tangling it, while the other stayed on your warm cunt. You grinded into his hand, back and forth you moved, whimpering into his mouth.
He did this until you were worked up enough, moaning into his neck, biting into his skin as your orgasm was off by seconds causing before you could crash, he pulled away. “Bad girls don’t get to cum.” He whispered into your ear.
“What?” You pulled back, face flushed and voice high pitched. “What-”
“Going through my things was bad.” He tsked, pulling your hands off from his neck. “You knew better, angel, but you did it anyways. This means I’m not doing my job correctly. You’re falling out of line.”
Your mouth fell open and close, trying to find words. “I don’t-”
“You know what this means, don’t you?” He raised a brow. “You’re going to be punished, you understand?”
Your pussy pounded, heart racing, blood rushing. The thrill of excitement went straight to your core. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He repeated. “No. You address me as sir during your punishment, got it?” He lifted your chin, raising a brow.
You quickly nodded. “Yes. Oh, I mean- yes, sir.”
He nodded in approval, patting his knee. “Then get over my knee.”
You looked down at his thighs, then back up to him, unsure. You couldn’t move. Nerves paralyzing you. When your breathing got loud, Eddie frowned.
“Hey,” He grabbed your hand. “You alright?”
“Yes.” You nodded quickly. “Sorry- just, nervous, I guess.” You chuckled awkwardly, brushing away your hair.
“Take a breath.” He rubbed your back. “We don’t have to do anything, baby, I’m sorry.”
“No,” Your eyes widened. “No, I- I want to,” You assured, grabbing his wrist. You knew if Eddie got to thinking about it too much, he’d be too worried to continue. You needed to take action.
“I’ve been bad, Eddie.” You said as confidently as you could. “I think I need to be punished.”
His face drew darker, lips curling. “You have.” He agreed. “Think we should take care of it?” He held out his hand for you to take.
You slipped your hand into his, allowing him to pull you over his lap, your torso flush against his lap. Your hair fell over your face, the blood rushing to your skull.
“Comfortable?” He patted your back.
“Yes, sir.” Your words made him smile.
He looked down to your backside, rubbing his hands over your shorts. “I can’t punish you with your shorts on, honey.”
You were sure he could feel you throbbing against his thighs. “Take them off.” You said bashfully.
He chuckled at your meekness, pulling down your shorts to find you bare. He gave your flesh a little love tap, warming you up. “You tell me to stop if you need to, alright? This is new for you, baby, don’t overwhelm yourself.”
You nodded. “Yes, sir, I won’t.”
He warmed your skin, littered with goosebumps, rubbing the fat of your ass with his hands, squeezing and pulling. You had to clamp your mouth shut from moaning, already becoming a mess all over again. You were always so sensitive. Eddie always used it to his advantage.
“I’m going to start.” He announced. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
The first smack was light, startling you with a tiny gasp. The second one, still gentle, warming you up. The third was on the opposite cheek, a little harder, but not much. You had to force yourself not to grind yourself on his jeans, your pussy throbbing with such a need.
“Shit,” You cursed, turning into a yelp when he spanked you hard.
“Language,” He said sternly, rubbing the skin he assaulted. “We don’t talk like that, remember? Trying to make you my good little girl again.”
The fourth and fifth spank was harder, enough to draw sounds from you. Six and seven came quick, making you breath heavy, anticipating the next. You were throbbing so hard it was hard to think clearly, a small burn on your backside starting to grow. You moaned when he spanked you again, full handed, lower where the skin met your thigh.
“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this, sweetheart.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “This is a punishment.”
You jumped when his hand dipped between your legs, trailing his fingers through your slit. You let out a loud, desperate moan that made him chuckle. “This really get you going, huh?” He pushed his fingers inside of you, making you squeal, lurching up from his lap.
“Oh, god!” You cried out, being pushed back down by his hand. “God, Eddie,”
“Hush.” He smacked your ass hard, continuing to finger you.
You shoved your hand in your mouth as he quickly finger fucked you, giving you no time to adjust to his fingers. He had his way with you, entering his digits in and out with a loud squelch. You cried into your hand, rocking yourself back and forth into his fingers. He worked you up until you were close to coming, pulling away before you could. “Bad girls don’t get to cum.” He said sternly, landing two harsh smacks on your ass, continuing with your punishment.
The peak of your orgasm faded away quickly and you sobbed, yelping and jumping as his hand came down harder on your skin. It really wasn’t bad. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength, but your sensitivity was making everything more heightened. Your need for him stronger.
“Are you learning anything?” He switched from cheek to cheek, alternating in steady, rhythmic movements.
“Yes!” You sobbed, your belly flip flopping.
“What?”
“I need to be a good girl.” Your orgasm was coming back just as quick just from the spanking itself. You were going to cum right on his lap. “Fuck, Eddie, I’m gonna cum.” You reached down to squeeze his ankle. “Spank me,”
He told you not to, but the idea of you coming just from him spanking you? He was hard as bricks. “Fuck.” He cursed, adjusting his hold on you before bringing his hand down again hard. Your whole body tensed on his lap as he spanked you, but the rhythm of the music that left your mouth told him he was doing a good job. “Fucking cum on my lap.” He husked. “Be my good little girl again.”
One more smack down towards your core sent you over the edge. You let out a wail, a shrill gasp that made him stop immediately, thinking he had hurt you. You convulsed on top of him, weeping and sweating as your body wracked with shakes of overstimulation and excitement.
“Oh, god,” You panted, fisting at his ankle. You were completely fucked out of it. Your vision was blurry and your head pounded, body shaking so hard that you thought you could hear your bones shaking.
“Baby?” You could hear him say. “Are you alright?” He grabbed your arm, trying to lift you so he could see your face. “Come on, honey, talk to me.”
You could feel how hard he was against your side, but your pussy was sore from having his fingers lodged up inside of you, too sensitive, but you wanted him anyways. With shaky limbs you crawled off his lap and sank to floor, looking up to him with a ruined face. “Am I good girl again, daddy?” You blinked through wet lashes.
He quickly fumbled with his belt, already struggling to keep his cool. “Fuck, yeah, you are, honey.”
You sat up to wrap your lips around his cock as soon as it was free. He gasped, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you. Your makeup was all over your face, snotty and slobbering. Your tongue swiped at the sides and the base of his cock, your hands coming up to massage his balls. He jumped, trembled in your grasp as he bucked his hips into your mouth. “Ah- god, good girl,” He praised. “Such a good girl. Took your spanking so well for me, didn’t you?”
You gagged around him as he sat up, grabbing the back of your head as he wracked his fingers through your hair. He thrusted just hips gently into your mouth, letting out a load moan that made your tired pussy flutter to life. “Fuck, fuck,” He chanted, his own orgasm building in his abdomen. “You gonna take my cum down your throat, huh? You gonna do that for daddy? Be my good- ah, oh- god, good little girl?”
He praised you as he came, shooting his load in your mouth with a quick flex of his hips. You gargled around him, your strings of saliva drooling out of your mouth. When you swallowed and let go of his cock, he collapsed on the bed where you joined him.
You both laid side by side. Teary eyes and flushed faces, ruined makeup and his cum leaking down your neck, a drop you had missed. And your ass incredibly sore, but buzzing with a sense of something new and exciting. The both of you are too fucked out to say anything, so you just grabbed his hand.
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wyatthaliwells · 1 year
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Max Mayfield Stranger Things 4 (2022) | The Monster and the Superhero
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b4kuch1n · 8 months
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polymer broadcast signal hijack
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inklessletter · 5 months
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Polaroid #3 July 2nd 1987
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supernovafics · 7 months
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•*⁀➷ ❝ 𝐈’𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔. ❞✧∘ ✭・.✫・゜·。.
supernovafics!
✭•*⁀➷ a bestfriend!steve harrington roommate au slightly inspired by the tv show “friends” ·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.
a year in the lives of you and your best friend steve harrington. you never thought that you would be living with this guy you’ve known since you were ten— although it was a hypothetical topic that was discussed at length during the many sleepovers you had over the years. but somehow on a hectic day in august, the stars managed to align, and the next thing you know a lease is being signed and the two of you are moving into a two-bedroom apartment. so far it’s been two months of countless late nights and too many really early mornings where you’re running late to class or steve’s rushing to get to his shift at family video. for the most part, though, it’s a perfect situation. until the lines that felt as if they were clearly drawn in the sand— and had been there from perhaps the moment you and him met— start getting blurrier and blurrier
warnings: bestfriend!steve, roommate!steve, childhood best friends to (eventual) lovers, two idiots in love (but neither wanna admit it), Big Big slow burn, besties being besties, minimal angst, mainly just a lot of fun vibes, eventual smut (minors dni!), many familiar faces (robin, eddie, sometimes the kids), no use of y/n, specific warnings will be tagged per chapter
important note! this will be a very “low stakes” series (there’s not really a super specific storyline happening in this), and i’m really just gonna post for it whenever i’m in the mood/feel inspired for it. i already have a bunch of random ideas for this universe that i wanna eventually do, but requests are open for anything you wanna see with these roommates/besties<333 (also oneshots/blurbs will be posted non-chronologically but will be listed chronologically, so you can pretty much read in any order you want to!)
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
fall 1985
love is a game (the one where you and steve have a “housewarming party”)
let’s forget it (the one where steve sees you naked)
third street (the one at the diner in the middle of the night)
silly promises (the one at dairy queen)
take a picture (the one with batman & robin)
from the dining table (the one with the early thanksgiving dinner)
never talk about it (the one where you see steve naked)
just a feeling (the one with steve’s date)
winter 1985/1986
the first fall of snow (the one where the kids spend the night)
care for you (the one where you’re both sick)
maybe this year (the one with the bet)
closing time (the one at family video)
while you were sleeping (the one with steve’s epiphany)
only for you (the one where you and steve play basketball)
in the middle of the night (the one with the ski trip)
worth waiting for (the one after the ski trip) (18+)
spring 1986
between you and me (the one where you and steve are secretly dating)
tell me a secret (the one where everyone finds out)
take my hand (the one where you and steve are chaperones at a school dance)
stay with me (the one where you come home drunk and steve takes care of you)
much better (the one with the "celebratory dinner")
summer 1986
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andvys · 3 days
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side.
Warnings: fluff, lots and lots fluff, just a teeny tiny bit of angst, just a bunch of tooth rooting sweetness
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: On a rainy Thursday, something shifts between you and Steve, something you can not see yet, while Steve gets lost in a glimpse of the future he could feel on this day.
Word count: 9k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, roe. especially with the last bit, you're the bestest ♡ Steve's shower scene was fully written by her so give her some loveeee
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
The rain paddles against your windows softly, the sun is hidden behind the heavy dark clouds, and the light wind rustles the trees outside. You didn’t close the blinds last night, but it doesn’t matter anyways, it’s dark and gloomy outside. 
The soft covers touch your bare skin, the smell of cologne is heavy in the air, along with the smell of sex that still lingers after the previous night. 
The weight of his arm keeps you in place, keeps you close, he is making your heart flutter in this early morning hour already. 
He is facing you, just as you are facing him. His palm rests on your lower back, his legs tangled with yours underneath the sheets. He pulls you closer when you try to move, tightening his hold on you, but he is still so fast asleep. His lashes look so much longer when his eyes are closed, his features are completely relaxed, he is breathing softly, his heart beats against your palm as you keep your hand close to it. 
You eye the moles on his skin and the scars on his body. 
Your hands always itch to touch him, to graze his skin with the tips of your fingers, and you can do so when he’s fast asleep and unaware of your loving touches. 
You raise your hand up to his face, pushing away the curl that hangs loosely over his forehead. Your touch is light as a feather as you trace the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before you return your hand back to his chest, freezing when a sigh falls from his lips and he stirs in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him in the process before he sinks deeper into the pillows, eyes still shut and heart still beating softly. 
You breathe out and relax when he continues sleeping deeply. 
You don’t want to get caught admiring him, and touching him like this, when only a few days ago, you feared that you would lose him after Eddie confronted you both. 
You cried yourself to sleep that night. 
His words cut deep, and the fear of losing him added to the hurt. You weren’t ready to lose this, you weren’t ready to lose him, and you thought that you were so very close to it until he showed up the next morning, and asked if things would stay the same between you and him now that someone found out.
The weight that stayed on your shoulders nearly crushed you, but he took it off you, and without realizing that he did, he took some of your worries too, just not the pain, and the mark he left on your heart with a few simple words. But it didn’t matter, because kissing him and feeling his touch again, was all that mattered, to know that it wasn’t over just yet… that mattered. 
You can hide the sadness and the pain when he holds you like this, you can even forget about it… momentarily. 
You forgot about it last night, when he kissed your neck and he marked your skin, when he unraveled you with his tongue and the touch of his hands, when he split you open and kissed you like you were his, when he looked into your eyes and he held your wrist as the tips of his fingers touched your palm, like he wanted to entwine them with yours and feel you closer and closer as you were chest to chest and his lips moved with yours like none have ever did before. 
Shivers run down your spine, and butterflies dance in your stomach when the sound of his voice calling out your name echoes in your mind. 
You might not be the one for him. And you know that there might be others, but you don’t even want to let your mind go there, just the mere thought of it, fills you with nausea. He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matters the most to you. You know that you can give him so much more than anyone else ever could. If only he let you. If only there was a chance. 
You nearly jump from the bed when the ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts, and it echoes through the quiet house. 
Your eyes widen, and your heart starts pounding as panic settles deep in your chest. You stare at Steve, who is peacefully asleep, still. 
You flinch at the second ringing. 
“Fuck,” you whisper when you remember the burgundy car in your driveway. There is no reason for Steve to be at your place so early in the morning. There is no believable explanation either, what will you say to whoever it is on the other side of the door?
If this is one of your friends, you are screwed, so screwed. 
You know, as a matter of fact, that it isn’t Eddie – he wouldn’t show up this early unless it was an emergency, and even then, he’d be in your room by now. 
“Steve,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake, but he only grumbles in his sleep and hides his face further into the pillows. 
You sigh. 
You push his arm off and escape his embrace. You throw the covers off, and jump up from your bed, standing in only your underwear for a moment as you search for your clothes, you reach for his shirt instead and throw it on, before you rush out of the room, trying to fix your messy hair as you run down the stairs. 
You don’t have much time to come up with lies and excuses as to why Steve’s car is in your driveway, whoever it is on the other side of the door, is getting a little impatient. 
“I’m coming,” you grumble and unlock the front door before you rip it open, holding your breath. 
“Finally!” 
You sigh out in relief, rolling your eyes at your own panic. You step aside and open the door a little wider. 
“What took you so long?” Your sister murmurs as she steps inside and brushes past you. She is carrying a bag in one hand and the bright pink baby carrier your baby niece is currently sleeping in. 
All your annoyance leaves your body right this second, your eyes soften and a smile appears on your face. 
“Hello to you too, Twinkie.” 
She rolls her eyes at your nickname but pulls you in for a side hug after dropping the bag on the ground. 
“Give me her,” you smile as you take the carrier from her arm, and carry it into the living room, smiling as you eye the little features of the baby girl. You put the carrier down on the couch. “Hi Francine,” you whisper, gently tapping her tiny nose. “She’s so big already!” 
Your sister laughs as she follows you into the living room after kicking off her shoes, “you’ve seen her last week, I don’t think she grew much.” 
“She kind of did,” you whisper, taking Francine’s tiny hand. “They grow so fast.”
Your sister walks over to the window, peeking outside, she clears her throat, “do I wanna know whose car that is?” 
You glance over your shoulder and swallow nervously. 
You’re glad that her memory is awful. 
Everyone knows who is driving the burgundy BMW, and your sister still lived in Hawkins when he got it. She should know who it belongs to.
Her lips curl into a smirk, and she wiggles her brows, “casual hook up, or… is it something serious?” 
You know that she has been waiting for this day. 
It is something serious, to you. 
It is something serious when he holds you closely and kisses you softly, when his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile at the sight of you. 
It is something serious when your heart flutters every time his knuckles brush against yours. 
It is something serious when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the very same spot. 
It is something serious when you keep falling and falling with no end in sight. 
Will you ever stop falling in love with him? 
Will there ever be a moment where your feelings and your love will stop at one level, or will you continue falling harder every passing moment? 
Your sister raises her eyebrows, lips curling into an even bigger smile, when she notices the flustered look on your face, the dreamy look in your eyes. 
“Something serious, huh?” 
You blink. 
Staring at her, with your cheeks now feeling warm… way too warm, you shake your head quickly. 
“N-No.” 
You curse inwardly, for giving yourself away so easily with your stuttering and your blushing. That’s not how you ever reacted before when she mentioned any of your hookups. 
She grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows, “mhm sure, Daisy.” 
You roll your eyes at her teasing glances, but the nickname makes you smile. 
Out of all the flowers, your mom loved Daisies the most, she would put the dainty flowers in your braids, and behind your ear whenever you were out in the garden. You would pick them for her and make little bouquets to surprise her with. 
She always called you her little Daisy. 
Your sister picked up on that nickname, though she used it to mock you at first when she went through a weird phase of hating flowers – which is really ironic considering the flower shop she ended up working at when she moved to the city.
She could’ve given you another nickname, something silly – something like the name you gave to her, but she spared you, luckily. 
“Shut up, Twinkie,” you mumble, as you look back at your niece, who is beginning to stir in her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as small noises escape her mouth. “As happy as I am to see this little bean, why are you here at uh,” you pause, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall, “ten in the morning?” You ask. 
She makes her way over to you, a sweet smile appearing on her face, as she gives you her best puppy eyes. 
“I was hoping that you could look after Francine?” She asks, still smiling. “Lisa is getting married soon, and she asked me to go wedding dress shopping with her, I can’t take her, we’ll probably be out all day, and I can’t wait for Ethan to get home, his shift won’t end before–”
“It’s fine, I’ll look after her,” you interrupt her, despite the slight nervousness that rises up in you. 
You have no experience with babies at all, you have given her the bottle, you even changed her diaper, but your sister was around, and you didn’t spend the whole day alone with her. 
She sighs in relief, she puts her hand on your shoulder, “oh thank you!”
“Don’t mention it, I’d never say no to hanging out with my favorite girl.” 
“You need to spend more time with her anyways, you coming once a week isn’t enough!” 
You frown at your sister, “you’re the one who moved away!” 
She waves her hand at you, walking around the couch, she walks over to the carrier, “she always does that little scrunch with her nose before she wakes up.” 
You smile, watching as she leans in to place a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek. 
“Okay,” she whispers, pulling back to look at you, “I put everything into the bag, diapers, bottles, formula, a change of clothes in case her diapers leak, and uh… pacifiers. And uh, you know if she cries just lie down with her and put her on your chest, she loves cuddles.” 
You nod, “yeah, I know, I haven’t forgotten. I got this.”
“Yeah you do, Daisy. And if you need help, just call Eddie–”
“Are you kidding?” You laugh, shaking your head as amusement flashes in your eyes. 
Eddie and Max were there, the last time your sister showed up with her husband and little Francine. 
While the redhead was rather excited to hold the little girl, Eddie felt too afraid to even touch her, and he nearly gagged when Max chased him with a dirty diaper. 
“He looked at her like he was scared of her!” 
Your sister laughs, “yeah, right. Okay, so not Eddie then, I’m sure Max would love to help though, or maybe someone else – but I’ll get going now, I promise, I’ll make it up to you, you got this, Daisy.” She smiles, ruffling your hair, she leans down to look at her daughter one more time, “bye bug, I’ll see you soon,” she whispers and squeezes her tiny foot before she steps away. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, see you later, Twinkie.” 
The moment the front door is slammed shut, you let out a long sigh, and throw your head back against the pillows on your couch. You bring your hand up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose. 
You are still tired, and it seems as though Steve is still sleeping soundly. 
You want nothing more than to return back to bed and sink into your pillows again. 
You definitely won’t get any sleep now, but you still get up and slowly lift the baby carrier, hoping that the movement won’t wake her up. You try to be careful as you make your way out of the living room and up the stairs. 
When you walk into your room, you find Steve now laying on his stomach, his face buried in your pillow. The sheets are low on his body, his whole back is exposed. 
The tiny cooing sounds from inside the carrier, cause your lips to curl into a big smile. You place it down on your carpet, and kneel down, giggling when you’re met by her big eyes. She starts wiggling around when she sees you. 
“Hi little angel,” you whisper, and lean closer to unfasten the safety belts, before you lift her up from the carrier, placing your right hand behind her head, you pull her into your chest, her hand instantly reaches for your hair, clasping her tiny fingers around it, she makes you laugh when she starts pulling it, making happy noises while she does so. 
You sit down on your bed, and lift your legs up, scooting back until you’re resting against the pillows behind you. You pull the covers over your lower body. 
A small squeal leaves her mouth.
“Shh, someone’s sleeping,” you whisper, tapping her little nose, glancing at Steve who is starting to stir in his sleep. 
You place her on your lap, and giggle at the cuteness as she stretches her little legs out. “That’s a cute onesie,” you whisper, rubbing her belly, “I bet you picked that yourself didn’t you? Pink is a pretty color on you, princess.” 
She babbles and wiggles around as she stares at you with her big eyes. 
Your voice, and the small coos pull Steve out of his deep sleep, his mind is still in a haze, his eyes still closed. 
“Da da da.” 
Your giggle follows the tiny voice. 
Steve scrunches his brows together, gripping the pillow underneath him, he slowly opens his eyes and looks at your side of the bed, his lips part and his eyes widen completely, something in his chest stirs strongly as he stares at the sight in front of him. 
He is still sleeping. 
He is still dreaming. 
A smile is resting on your face, eyes lightened up as you entertain the little baby girl on your lap, a pink bow around her head, big eyes resembling your own as she stares at you with a smile on her face, her hair color is the same as yours. 
Steve swallows the lump that grew in his throat, warmth settles in his chest, surrounding his heart and filling it with something, with adoration. 
His eyes soften when you lean down to kiss her forehead, squishing her tiny cheeks. 
“You’re the prettiest girl, Francis,” you whisper, using her nickname. 
His lips curl into a smile, despite the confusion that still lingers in his features. 
This is surely one of his dreams, he is convinced of it, why else would he wake up beside you, and a baby who looks like you?
But when you turn to face him, and the little girl follows your movement, looking at him with wide eyes, he isn’t so sure anymore. 
He blinks, watching as you reach for Francis’s little arm, waving her tiny hand at him, “say hi Steve.” 
The little girl babbles even louder, making a grabby hand at him. 
Steve smiles at her, raising his hand up, he waves at her.
You can’t help but laugh at the lost and confused look on his face, his brows are pulled together, his lips parted as he looks between you and your niece. 
He turns around on his back, and pushes himself so he’s leaning against your headboard, adjusting the cover, he pulls it up higher. He looks around the room, before his eyes return to the two of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair, eyes flickering back and forth.
Your lips tug into a smirk, you can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing right now. 
You look at him, as you pull your niece closer, holding her up, you press her against your chest, “can you believe that we made a baby overnight?” 
You almost burst into laughter when his brown eyes widened with pure shock, and he choked a little. 
He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.” 
Francine makes another grabby hand at him, “ma ma.”
“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure she just called you mama.”
Steve’s cheeks heat up, and he turns away from you, looking around your room again before his eyes catch the picture on your nightstand, the one of you and your sister. Oh. 
“Ah… Your niece,” Steve murmurs as he looks back at the two of you. 
“Good morning, Harrington,” you giggle. Francine copies your giggle, and Steve can’t help but smile. “Oh you like that name, huh? It’s funny isn’t it? Harrington.” Her little eyes crinkle, and she starts babbling with a laugh. Steve keeps her eyes on her, smiling at the little girl.
“That’s Francine,” you smile, introducing your niece to him. 
Steve lifts his hand up, waving his fingers at her, “hi Francine, I’m Steve.” 
She squirms in your arms, making happy noises as she blinks at him. Steve chuckles, he scoots closer to you, and he lifts his hand, and touches her tiny one. Francine wraps her hand around his finger, gripping it tightly, making his smile even bigger. 
“Is your sister here?” He asks, without looking away from the little girl. 
You shake your head, “no, she asked me to babysit today. So uh… I’ll be busy with my girl here today.” 
The urge to stay here with you, and this cute little mini you, feels so strong. 
“Want me to help?” Steve asks. 
You’re a little stunned by his question, and can only stare in surprise. 
“Huh?” 
“I mean, I don’t mind staying to help,” Steve shrugs, glancing at you for a second before he gives his attention back to Francine, who stares at him in awe.
The thought of spending a whole day with Steve, taking care of a baby with him, sounds like heaven. 
The only reason why he’s ever even around you without the group is because of sex, and that only. You don’t meet up just to watch movies, cook together or anything else, you only meet up for one thing, that’s all. 
The fact that he is willing to just spend time with you, without expecting anything to happen baffles you a little. 
“I-I… Do you really want to stay?” 
He nods. 
“Not much of a choice, to be honest,” he murmurs with a fond smile on his face as he gestures to your niece who is still holding his finger tightly. 
“O-Okay,” you whisper, shakily as nervousness and excitement rise up in you. 
“She’s so adorable,” Steve whispers, chuckling when Francine babbles at him, “she looks like you.” 
You smile before you realize what he just said, and heat rushes to your cheeks. 
She’s so adorable, she looks like you.
“I-I uh,” you stutter, trying to keep your cool, “so you’re gonna stay then?”
“Yeah, I’d love to hang out with Blondie and mini Blondie over here,” he chuckles as he taps her nose. 
Your heart could burst right then and there, your cheeks feeling incredibly hot the longer you sit here and stare at him. 
“Cool,” you say with a small voice as you suddenly feel the need to escape for a moment, “would you mind looking after her for a moment then? I wanna take a quick shower or else I’ll walk around looking like a bum all day.” 
Steve turns to look at you, he takes in the sight of your messy hair, and the shirt on your body, only now noticing that it’s his. His insides tingle, and his lips curl into a smile. 
You look like a cute bum. He almost blurts out, but bites his tongue. 
“Sure, go ahead, me and Francine are just gonna hang out, right?” 
She squeals in response, making jumpy movements. 
You both laugh at her. 
You lay her down beside him, and tickle her belly, giggling when she starts kicking her feet, “alright, I’ll be right back, angel.” 
Steve doesn’t even notice how big his smile is, how soft his eyes are as he stares at you, how warm the feeling in his chest is. 
“She might roll over on her belly, and if she gets a little fuzzy just pick her up, she loves snuggles. I’m gonna be quick.” 
Steve scoots closer to Francine, leaning his elbow on the pillow, he rests his head against his palm, and glances at you, “it’s fine, take your time, I’m just gonna chat with her.” 
Francine is still kicking her feet and waving around with her little arms.
“Oh yeah, she’s very talkative,” you giggle, and get up from the bed, you walk over to your dresser and pick out some clothes to change into. As much as you would love to wear his shirt all day, he needs it himself – although, you wouldn’t mind him walking around shirtless. 
Once you get everything you need, you turn back to take a look at them, and you nearly melt into a puddle when you see the way she is still clutching his finger, kicking her legs and babbling something to him, while he watches her with a smile on his face. 
“O-Okay, I’ll be right back.” 
You leave the room in a haste, but Steve doesn’t even notice, too busy staring at little Francine. He adores the resemblance of you, and the color of her eyes that matches yours, she truly looks like you. 
Steve can’t remember the last time he saw or even held a baby, he’s not sure if he ever even held one. He was ten when one of his cousins was born, but he didn’t care to hold him back then. 
Francine keeps making a grabby hand at him, while she tugs at his finger, starting to get fuzzy after a few minutes pass without your presence in the room. 
He sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up higher, he reaches for one of your throw pillows and places it on his lap. 
“Alright Francine,” Steve whispers, he takes a deep breath and furrows his brows in concentration as he carefully lifts her up, supporting her head with his palm, he pulls her closer and lays her down on the soft pillow. 
She coos and starts blowing bubbles, making Steve laugh. 
“Oh, you’re so adorable,” he smiles, pulling her a little closer, “did you pick that bow today?” He asks, eying the headband around her little head. 
She makes a few grunting noises, though looking at him with a happy look on her face. 
“Your auntie loves those bows too, she puts some in her ponytails sometimes,” Steve says, talking to her as though he will get more than just a few babbles from her. “I bet you’re gonna steal them from her someday–”
Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrt
Steve’s face pales at the sound, his eyes widen. 
The noise that came from her diapers sounded more than just air. 
“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before his eyes widen further at the curse word that just left his lips, “I shouldn’t have said that, shit– I mean, I’m sorry, please forget what I just said,” he rambles, as though she understood a single thing that he said. 
Francine babbles, kicking her feet into his stomach with a happy squeal. 
“Um,” he panics, looking around the room, “Blondie!?”
“What Steve!?” You call from the bathroom, “it’s been five minutes!” 
“I uh–” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he furrows his brows, “code red…?” 
You nearly laugh at his choice of words, you only ever used code red in the upside down, for the real emergencies. 
You can already guess what happened, and it only makes your amusement grow bigger. You quickly put your clothes on, and brush your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and back to them. 
“Okay, I’m here,” you announce, placing his shirt that you stole earlier on your bed, you walk over to his side, and take a seat beside him, “that was the quickest shower of my life.” 
He gets a whiff of your vanilla body wash, of the mint from your toothpaste, and the smell of perfume that lingers in your hair, making his chest flutter. 
“She uh– I think she needs a diaper change.” 
“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s what you’re panicking about?” 
Steve glares at you.
“You wanted to help,” you shrug as you get up again, making your way out of the room again to get the bag with Francine’s stuff. “You gotta learn how to change diapers, Harrington!” 
Steve huffs nervously, “no big deal right?” He whispers to Francine. 
“Da da da.” 
“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “right.”
You come back into the room, and put the bag on the ground, picking out new diapers, wet wipes, baby powder and the spare onesie, along with the thin baby towel that you spread out on your mattress. 
“Alright, Lego head,” you raise your eyebrows at him, “do you wanna practice for your future nuggets or are you scared of baby poop?” 
He snorts, shaking his head at you.
“No, I’m not scared of baby poop.” 
You walk over to them both and lean down before him, you pick Francine up, and scrunch your face up, “yeah, you really need a diaper change, angel.”
Steve watches as you carry her over to the other side, placing her down on the towel you spread out. You undo the buttons of her onesie, smiling at the little girl. 
“Well, come on,” you giggle at him, “it’s an experience you gotta make, Steve.” 
Steve takes a deep breath, he throws the pillow off his lap and removes the cover. He gets up from the bed, standing there in his boxers for a moment, until his eyes find the sweatpants he discarded last night, he quickly throws them on, along with the shirt you wore earlier. 
“Alright,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, he walks up beside you, “just tell me what to do.” 
You chuckle at his nervousness, you place your hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, if Max was able to do it, you can do it too.” 
A breathy laugh falls from his lips. 
You guide him, giving him a little step by step of what to do. 
You watch the way his brows knit together, and the way he is nodding to himself as he follows your words. 
He doesn’t even look disgusted when the smell hits him, he only chuckles at the way Francine continues babbling happily. 
“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?” 
You nod, smiling down at your niece, “yes she is.”
You hand him the new diapers and the baby powder, before you put the used wipes into the dirty diaper, roll it up carefully and throw it into the trash in your bathroom before you return to your room. 
“How old is she?” 
“She’s gonna be three months old tomorrow,” you say, smiling as you step up beside him again. 
Steve raises his eyebrows at Francine, “oh, you’re gonna be a big girl tomorrow?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, making her laugh. 
The smile on your face widens, the feeling in your chest growing stronger and brighter. 
Her small giggles, and the fond smile that rests in his tired features spark something deep inside of you, a warming and comforting feeling appears as you watch him take care of her with careful and slow movements. 
“Is that okay?” He asks you, gesturing to the diapers he put on her, “or is it too tight?”
You lean closer to him and check the pressure, “no, that’s perfect, Steve.”
“It is?” He asks, surprised. 
You nod, and start to put her onesie back on, “yeah, I don’t even know what you panicked about, you’ve done a better job than me, I didn’t know what I was doing the first time,” you laugh. “You did good, Lego head.” 
A dimpled grin appears on his face, despite the redness in his cheeks. 
“I-I think caring for a bunch of kids that turned into teens turned me into a natural, even babies. I mean, Dustin counts as a baby, doesn’t he?” He jokes, watching the way your eyes crinkle and your lips spread before you burst into giggles. 
Francine watches you with big eyes before she copies your giggles like before. 
Steve’s eyes light up, as he watches you both. 
The warmth in his chest spreads, as happiness rises up in him. 
After adjusting her clothes and the bow on her head, you pick her up into your arms, leaning down to kiss her cheek. 
You don’t even notice just how soft the look in his eyes, how the ghost of a smile now lingers on his lips, as he stares at the both of you in awe, watching the way Francine buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you keep a gentle hand on the back of her head. 
“Do you want some breakfast? I can make you something after I give this princess her bottle, I think she’s getting tired again.”
Steve’s heart thumps strongly in his chest, he can’t deny the emotions of adoration in him as he looks at you with the baby on your arm. 
“I can make you a breakfast sandwich or anything else you want.” 
Steve blinks. 
“Uh, you don’t have to make anything for me, Blondie. I can make you something though.”
You shake your head, “no, you’re my guest, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can feed her if you want.” 
“Okay,” he says with a sigh, nodding his head, “I’ll make you lunch or dinner though.”
“Oh, are you gonna woo me with your cooking skills now?” You giggle. 
He looks down with a smile, “I promised I would, didn’t I?” 
“Yeah, you did.” 
Francine clasps her fingers around your hair again, pulling it stronger than before, making you wince a little. 
“Okay, okay, someone’s getting a little grumpy now. I’m gonna go make her the bottle.” 
“I’ll be right there with you, I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick,” Steve gestures to your bathroom, “do you need me to carry the bag down?”
“No, it’s fine, it’s not heavy,” you say as you step towards him, “but can you help me put it on my shoulder?”
“Yeah, of course.”
He grabs the bag and steps towards you, putting the strap around your shoulder. His eyes soften yet again, when he sees you looking down at your niece, smiling as she blinks at you with her big eyes. 
Steve doesn’t even notice that his hand still lingers on your shoulder, or that he’s rubbing your back, he is too in awe of the two of you, and that feeling stays with him, even when you leave the room and go downstairs, even when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, and he can’t even unsee the happiness and the relaxation in his features, but he decides to pay no mind to it. 
When he joins you downstairs, he finds you in the kitchen, finishing up on Francine’s bottle, you’re shaking it, while whispering something to her as you’re still holding her in your arm, still. 
Steve doesn’t know what it is, but the sight before him, makes him freeze in his spot. 
As you stand there in your kitchen, with a smile on your lips, and a look of adoration in your eyes, you’re cooing at your niece, giggling every time she babbles something at you, he realizes something. 
You are comfortable, right now. 
You’re in your home, away from the eyes of strangers, hidden from the world that you have only shown one side of yourself to, your walls are down, you are just yourself, and there is no shame behind your eyes, because all your attention goes to someone you adore and love, and don’t feel the need to hide from. 
Your eyes shine brightly, your features are relaxed in a way they have never been before, and your smile is so genuine, so real. 
You’re talking to her with a small and gentle voice, you hold her tightly against your chest – and you… god you look so beautiful like this. 
You look so beautiful with a baby in your arms. 
Warmth spreads across his whole body, he likes the sight in front of him, he likes it so much that it should scare him, but it doesn’t. 
“There he is, Francis,” you smile, glancing at Steve, you don’t even notice how frozen in place he is, how heaven struck he looks, “are you ready to give her the bottle?” 
Steve blinks, snapping out of his mind, he nods at you with a blush on his cheeks. 
You brush past him, and gesture for him to follow you into the living room, after you grab the cloth from the counter. 
You place the bottle on the coffee table, and wait for him to take a seat on the couch. 
“Alright, you gotta tell me what to do,” Steve says nervously, as he sits down, “I’ve never done this before.” 
“Don’t be nervous, you got this,” you assure him. 
You step between his legs, and lean down to place Francine into his arms. 
Without needing to be told, he cradles the back of her head, as he gently pulls her into his arms, a smile spreading on his lips when her big eyes look into his. 
“Okay,” you whisper and put the cloth under her chin, adjusting it over her clothes in case a little accident might happen. 
“Am I holding her correctly?” Steve asks, looking up at you. 
The side of her face is nuzzled into his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his arm. You didn’t even need to guide him, he truly is a natural. 
“Yeah,” you smile, “you’re doing great.”
You hand him the bottle, and sit down beside him. 
“Did you test the temperature?” Steve asks, and you almost want to laugh at his question. 
“Yeah Steve, I did.” 
He nods at you. 
With a chuckle, you pull your feet up onto the sofa and sit on your knees, turning your body towards them. 
“Okay, now gently place the teat into her mouth and slowly tilt the bottle, she will do the rest.” 
He furrows his brows, poking his tongue through his lips, he focuses on your niece as he follows your words. 
You watch him closely, how soft and concentrated his eyes are, how careful his movements are, how small she looks in his arms, how sweet the sight of them is. 
Francine raises her little arm, and places her tiny hand on the bottle as she starts sucking on the teat, small noises falling from her. 
“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, the biggest smile you have ever seen, now glowing in his features as he looks at her in awe, “she’s the cutest little bean.” 
“Yeah, she is,” you smile and tilt your head as you watch them, the fluttering feeling in your chest sparking.
Her eyelashes flutter, her big eyes still staring into his. 
“I’m gonna cry, Blondie,” Steve murmurs, adoring the little human in his arms. “She's so tiny and adorable.” 
You move closer and reach for the corner of the cloth, wiping away the bit of milk that rolls down her chin. 
“You’re gonna have one of those someday too.”
Steve smiles at your words, nodding as he whispers “hopefully.” 
But he doesn’t notice the way your own smile falls, the way your eyes sadden for a moment, the way you look down and blink away the feelings you don’t want him to see. And he doesn’t realize how quiet you get, he is too distracted by Francine and the thoughts in his head, the pictures of a future he longs for so badly. 
Only when the bottle is empty and he removes it, does he turn back to you, but still too blinded by his mind to see the look in your eyes. You take the bottle from his hand, and place it back on the coffee table. 
“You gotta hold her against your chest now,” you tell him and remove the cloth from her body, you place it on his chest instead, “and gently pat her back so she can burp.” 
You guide him again, helping him hold her correctly as he places her against his chest, he puts his hand on her back, and starts patting gently. 
“Is that good?”
“Yeah,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, you reach for her tiny hand, caressing it as you watch her with a smile on your face, “she’s tired.” 
“Yeah, pooping must’ve been really exhausting,” Steve jokes, making you giggle. 
“Yeah, totally–”
A loud burp falls from her mouth. 
“Oh that was a big one,” Steve chuckles as he stops patting her, “you did good, bug.”
“She didn’t even spit, she usually does a little, wow you really do have magical hands,” you chuckle, and remove the cloth from his shoulder. 
“Told you, I’m a natural,” he smiles proudly. 
You roll your eyes playfully. 
“Do you want me to take her now?” You ask. 
He shakes his head at you, “can I hold her for a while?” 
Confusion flashes in your eyes. You know how badly he needs his coffee in the mornings, it’s one of the first things he does after he wakes up, going into the kitchen to brew his beloved morning coffee. He didn’t even take a single sip yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he is too in awe of the baby on his chest. 
Realization replaces the look in your eyes – he is entering a baby fever trance, with your niece nonetheless. It makes your smile reappear, that’s how you feel too, every time you get to spend time with her. 
“Of course,” you whisper, as your gaze softens. 
Francine’s eyelashes flutter, her blinking getting slower and lesser. 
“She’s gonna pass out though, you should sit back a little so she can lay on you.” 
He nods at your words, placing one hand on her back and the other under her bum, he lays back slowly, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees her already falling asleep. She scrunches up her nose as she nuzzles her face into his chest, making you both laugh when she suddenly throws her hand up, managing to catch onto a strand of his hair. 
She wiggles around for a moment, before her eyes start falling shut. 
“And she’s out,” Steve whispers, chuckling to himself. “I wish I could fall asleep this fast.” 
“Yeah, me too.”
Her cheek is squished against him, she’s breathing softly now, her hand falling from his hair and onto his shoulder, her little headband beginning to slip off. 
You reach out to take it off her head slowly, and lean in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, unaware of the fond smile on Steve’s lips, or the feelings that rush through him because of you. 
“I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast now,” you mumble as you pull away, and get up from the couch, grabbing the bottle and the cloth. 
Steve’s eyes follow you as you walk over to the TV stand, and grab the remote, handing it to him, “you can watch something if you want, it won’t disturb her, she’s a heavy sleeper.”
“I’m good, I’ll watch her for now,” he whispers. 
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you say, and give him a smile before you leave the room. 
A genuine smile. 
You smiled at him before, countless of times actually, but he could never tell what was real and what wasn’t, what was genuine and what was forced or just sarcastic. But this, this was a real smile, and there was no second meaning behind it. You just smiled at him, naturally. It makes him feel… happy, and as he looks down at the little girl that has your features, he realizes something. 
The feeling in his chest was never for nothing, it was never false or misleading. 
It was just as real as the smile you blessed him with. 
Suddenly, everything before him doesn't seem as dull and colorless as it did all these past months and even years, something sparks before his eyes and he can see again, he can feel something besides the never ending gnawing in his chest and the restlessness in his bones, the fears that nestled deep into his soul. He finally sees something other than the darkened clouds and the red lights that keep flashing before his eyes. 
A light that keeps peeking through every once in a while is on the verge of breaking through, making the walls around him rattle as the foundation starts to crumble, one brick at a time starts falling into an abyss. 
A future lays before his eyes, calling out to him and waiting to be grasped, an echo, a whisper, a glimpse of what could be if things were only different. 
For the rest of the day, Steve feels as though he had fallen into a pleasant dream, a world where it’s only you and him, a little girl that made him realize just how badly he wants to have a family of his own – he already knew that he wanted it, but he pictured the wrong person by his side, a person he no longer even wanted. 
He was blinded by old feelings, and the wish to have something real again, when it never even was to begin with. 
The feelings that are sparking in him now, feel so different from anything that he had ever felt before, and he only opens his eyes to them more and more as the day passes, and he sees a side of you that he had never seen before. 
He sees with how much love and gentleness you treat your niece, he sees the way your eyes hold nothing but adoration for the girl that you would do anything for. 
He hears how soft your voice can get. 
He feels how soft your touch can be when you once again hand her to him. 
And his heart beats so strongly, so fastly in his chest when a giggle falls from your lips after Francine pouts when you take her away from him again, only to be forced to place her back into his arms when she almost starts crying. 
Steve adores her, and he adores you – a little more as every second of this day passes. 
The thing that pushes him nearer towards the finish line of realization, is this very moment in front of him. 
Your niece fell asleep on his chest yet again, you are sitting right next to him, with your head on his shoulder and your eyes glued on her, your finger tracing her little features. The urge to pull you closer and hold you feels so strong to the point that his fingers start itching. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner for you,” he whispers. 
You look at him through your lashes, the corner of your lip twitching as your eyes flicker to his lips for a brief moment. 
The only light in the room now coming from the TV, the volume set on the lowest. The rain is still falling, even as the night nears. 
“It’s okay, Francis didn’t let you,” you giggle softly, not knowing that the sound makes his heart flutter. “Besides, the pizza was really good.” 
“Yeah, it was,” he whispers. 
He notices how tired you look, how the sleepiness is beginning to set into your features now too. 
“Look at her tiny nose,” you whisper as you look back at her, “and those little hands.”
Something in the way you hold her hand and whisper so adoringly about her, makes him long for you even more – but not in a way he had felt before, no, this is different, this is so very serious. 
Steve lifts his arm as a blush creeps up to his cheeks, he wraps his arm around you, and pulls you closer, “come here,” he whispers into your hair, “there’s space for two Blondies on my chest.”
He doesn’t know what kind of emotions he can trigger in you, with such simple words. 
He doesn’t know that you have been dying to feel this. 
You lay your head on his chest, and he can’t help but smile at the sigh that falls from your lips. You put your arm around Francine, and snuggle against him, and you stay like that, for a while at least, until Steve allows his feelings to take the lead. 
He adjusts the blanket over Francine before he pulls you even closer, and he buries his fingers in your hair, allowing himself to play with it like he only ever does when you’re fast asleep and unaware of his soft touches or the glances that fall upon your skin. 
He would feel joy if he knew about the emotions that linger inside of you. 
“You will be an amazing dad to your little nuggets someday, Steve,” you say in a whisper, it’s almost too quiet for him to hear, “and a good husband too.” 
The shakiness in your voice and the sadness goes by unnoticed by him, he is too stunned by your words. 
If he could see inside your head, he would know how much sadness there is, how the dark clouds always reside, how you don’t see a future for yourself because you know that he won’t be in it, and without him, what will you have? What will you be? A wilting rose, left behind to die. You are barely holding on now, but you are still here, because he is still keeping you alive. Your life is in his hands. 
Steve takes a deep breath, he opens his mouth to whisper to you, only to see you fast asleep now too, your cheek squished against his chest just like Francine’s is. 
He breathes out, lips curling into a smile as he stops playing with your hair. 
“You will be amazing too, Blondie,” he whispers. 
A girlfriend. A wife. A mother. 
Whatever you choose to be, whoever you will bless with your love, they are going to be so lucky to have you. 
And before he can even realize where his thoughts are taking him, a frown nestles into his features. The thought that he will become a memory to you, makes him feel uneasy. The thought that someone will step into your life, and take away what you both have, fills him with gray-ish sadness once again. The image of someone putting a ring on your finger and getting to be the one to lift the veil and kiss you on the altar openly, in front of everybody, and without needing to hide, spreads the darkness in him, yet again. 
He looks down at you, at the way you look so comfortable in his embrace, while your soft hand stays on the girl’s back, he admires you, and he feels no shame to do so, not even when he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face. 
But his time with you is cut short when the front door unlocks and opens, and footsteps echo in the hallway, a moment later. 
He turns his face away from you, when your sister steps into the living room, freezing in her steps when she sees him. 
Steve swallows the lump in his throat, giving her a tight lipped smile, he raises his hand to wave at her, “hi…”
She furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of you three, her lips pulling into a confused smile. She takes her denim jacket off and walks further into the room, her lips curling into a big smile when she takes a look at her girl. 
But then her eyes fall back on him, and suddenly, her lips part in surprise. 
“Hi…Oh– you, hang on,” she mumbles, tilting her head before her eyes widen, “Steve Harrington?”
Steve doesn’t know what to think of the look on her face, or the stunned tone in her voice. 
He met her before, at the hospital when she came to visit you, but he didn’t talk to her, and her reaction makes him wonder if you have mentioned him before. 
“Yeah… that’s uh… that’s me.”
The silence that follows is almost too loud, he can see the way she looks between you both, back and forth, as her brows stay furrowed. 
She points a finger between you both, “so uh… you’re her boyfriend?”
Steve hesitates, and he glances down at you, bitterness lays on his tongue when he utters the next words, “uh… no… no, I’m not.” Sadly, he thinks.
And when he registers the words that popped into his head out of nowhere, he suddenly wants nothing more than to escape this situation, fearing his own feelings again. 
“I-I should go now.” 
“Oh, you’re not staying another night?” She asks, a somewhat smug tone in her voice as she looks at you. 
He would love to, but it’s better to go now. It’s not safe to stay, not for his heart.
“No, I have to work tomorrow.”
“Ah,” she nods and walks over to the three of you, “I’ll take her now,” she whispers, and carefully picks her daughter up. The little girl stirs in her sleep, grunting quietly but not opening her eyes just yet. 
“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Steve chuckles as he watches the way Francine relaxes into her mother’s arms. 
“She really is,” your sister laughs, and walks over to the armchair, taking a seat before she looks back up at Steve, “kind of like Daisy when she’s relaxed,” she nudges her chin towards you. 
A smile appears on his face, and he looks down at you, his arm is still wrapped around you, and he already dreads the feeling of having to let you go. 
“Yeah,” he whispers, taking a long look at you, before he decides to get up. 
A sigh leaves his lips, and he slowly slips away from you, replacing his chest with a pillow for your head, his eyes soften when you scrunch your nose up just the way your niece did earlier. He adjusts the blanket over you, fighting the urge to leave a kiss on your forehead before he steps away. 
Your sister eyes him closely, watching how he treats you with so much care. 
When Steve steps away, and looks away from you, glancing at your sister, heat rushes to his cheeks when he sees the way she looks between you both, a smug look lingering in her eyes, a small but teasing smile on her face. 
He wants to run. 
“Okay uh,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck before he points his finger at the hallway, “I’m gonna go.” 
“Okay,” she nods, “thanks for helping with Francine.”
He waves his hand, a smile now reappearing on his face as he looks at the baby girl, already missing the feeling of holding her. 
“No need to thank me, I loved spending time with these two,” he chuckles, pointing between you and your niece. “But uh, I’m gonna head out.”
“Alright,” she smiles at him.
He takes one last look at you before he turns around and makes his way out of the living room, he puts his Nike’s on, and grabs the car keys he threw on the counter, last night. 
“Bye, Twinkie.”
“Bye…” She mumbles with furrowed brows, confused at the name he just called her by. 
The front door shuts quietly, yet loud enough to wake you up. With a flinch, you open your eyes, and look around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You look to your side, the empty spot beside you, making you frown. 
“Your boyfriend left,” your sister's voice sounds through the room. 
You turn to her, finding her in the armchair she always loved so much. A smug look is resting on her lips. 
“Shut up,” you mumble, glaring at her. 
She laughs at you, and leans back, getting comfortable in her seat. 
“Spill. Now.” 
-
The hot water rolls down Steve’s skin, the smell of shampoo surrounds him as he washes his hair. 
His eyes are closed, but a smile rests on his lips, as images of all the things that happened today replay in his mind. 
The fluttering in his chest hasn’t stopped at all, everything you did, everything you said, every single touch of yours has seemingly turned him into a hopeless teenager again – only, he isn’t one anymore, and the feelings inside of him, go much deeper than the ones of a seventeen year old boy. 
And no matter how much he tries to deny them, he just can’t, because it becomes less and less possible to pretend that they aren’t there.
Today, they shined through so brightly, when he saw how soft and gentle you could be, when he saw the sides of you that you never wanted to show. He saw something he never thought was even there. And it causes awful feelings to rise up in him, when he comes to the realization that all these years, you were only protecting yourself from the hurt in this world, and you did so by putting up a front and giving people the wrong pictures of yourself.
You were mean and rough to those you didn’t trust, and he was one of them, maybe he still is, but he saw you today. 
When you greeted him this morning, with your niece in your arms. 
When you kissed her little forehead, and held her in your sweet embrace. 
When you taught him to bottle feed her. 
When you admired her with him, and traced her little features with your finger and a loving smile on your face. 
When you told him how great of a husband he would be someday, and an amazing dad to his nuggets.
Wait… you said nuggets, plural. He never told you he wanted kids, so how did you know? How did you even know he would love to call his children that particular word? Was it intuition? Was it a coincidence? 
His eyebrows knit together with complete and utter confusion as the water just keeps running over his head, and the realization hits him like a ton of bricks. 
The RV. His conversation with Nancy. Him telling Nancy he wants to be someone’s husband and have six nuggets. Him pouring his desires out, thinking that everyone else in the vehicle was sound asleep.
But you weren’t.
Fuck, you weren’t asleep. You heard him. You heard him talking to Nancy, and you– you think that he wants those things with her still. He should clarify it, shouldn’t he? He wants to tell you that it was the dread of the world ending talking for him. He wants to explain himself to you–
Explain himself? Why? You probably wouldn’t care who he has kids with, or who he marries. You would simply give him a thumbs up and a confused look on your face. But– He feels his stomach contracting with nerves, nerves he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you. He doesn’t need to clarify anything. 
But, he doesn’t want you to think he wants that family with Nancy Wheeler.
He really doesn’t.
And he is terrified that he doesn’t want you to misunderstand.
Absolutely fucking terrified.
And then, the realization, the surprise and the nerves turn into absolute guilt. He had also said a few things about you. Nancy told him that it’s sad you had to be included this way into the party, into their problems, but that you looked strong and determined after going into the upside down just one time.
And he replied with how much he desired you wouldn’t have gotten involved at all. It sounded harsh, it sounded vile and venomous… And it was intended that way, or at least that’s what he thought. 
Now, he realizes that he didn’t want you involved so you wouldn’t go through danger, but you did, you went through so much pain and suffering. Nancy was right, you were strong, and you didn’t second guess your actions when it meant saving someone. 
“Shit–” He jumped a bit when he felt the water turn cold, not realizing for how long he had been in his head, thinking, running through his thoughts and memories. He turned the water off and shook his head to get the excess of it out of his hair. 
He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel, a white one that had the smudge of a lipstick stain that never got off. Your lipstick. 
And just that mere stain made his heart jump and miss one beat, two beats, maybe three. Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
He really wants you to know he doesn’t mean what he said in the RV.
To both of those things.
Especially the one about Nancy.
“Fuck me.”
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @sherrylyn628 @munson-mjstan @maroon-cardigan @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @ibellcipem @corrodedcorpses @agirlwholovesrockstars
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steddielations · 1 year
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Incorrect Steddie that’s actually correct
Insp
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divineecelestial · 11 months
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Pretty Girl [ 2 ] — Eddie Munson x fem!reader
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Summary — Eddie doesn't like when other guys talk about his girl. You think he's stupid because you're not his girl. He proves you wrong.
Word Count — 2.8k
Warnings — Graphic depictions of sexual activity, kinda mean!eddie, enemies to lovers banter, thigh riding, light face slapping, dirty talk
Part One
18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI
The old metal of the trailer creaked as the door slammed closed. With a wavering hand squeezing his blood-stained nostrils, Eddie glanced away from his reflection in his mirror and poked his head from the restroom doorway. His eyebrows furrowed as he recognized the quick and light footsteps approaching him.
He had practically pleaded with Dustin to not make any more phone calls. He was already embarrassed, more exasperated with the number of times he’s had to stuff his nose with clean tissues, and didn’t want to deal with the scolding and teasing from his friends. Thankfully, none of them had arrived, but, of course, you weren’t like any other person he’d ever met and drove over. If things were different and he wasn’t squeezing his nose with blood seeping beneath his fingernails, he would have paid more attention to the fact that you were there for him. But, stupidly of him, he didn’t think about that. “You came?” He asked, his voice nasally as he squeezed his nose firmly.
Your eyebrows furrowed together with obvious confusion as you neared him. “Of course, I came. Dustin said you needed me.” Now, that wasn’t something he could easily disregard. He wasn’t even sure you knew you had said those words, far too concerned with the pile of bloodied tissues in the corner of the room. You came because he needed you. You pushed his hand aside, carefully tilting his head back and he wordlessly complied. “What happened?”
Now, this was where things became awkward. Roughly an hour ago, Eddie saw something he definitely shouldn’t have. From across the hallway, he watched you. This wasn’t anything new, he could watch you for as long as he could if given the chance, but what was new was the guy across from you. He keeps telling himself he isn’t jealous, couldn’t possibly be. The words overspread his thoughts, suffusing every crevice and space of his head as he watched the spectacle. Maybe, just maybe, if he said the words enough, he’ll eventually believe them. He had to. There isn’t any reason for him to be internally seething with jealousy. You weren’t his. But, God, watching you smile like that because of some random guy was more than enough to have him become nauseous. Seriously, he could feel revulsion bubbling within him.
After you dismissed yourself with a small wave and watched with unfamiliar wrath as this prick motioned for his friends to check you out as you walked away and made a bet on who could fuck you first, he came to a final and startling conclusion. You were his. And that ass these dicks were checking out was definitely not theirs, only his. You ascended up the stairwell and he caught the faintest glance of beneath your skirt. Yeah, that ass and you were only his.
He explained some of what happened and he couldn’t restrain the pleased smile as the concerned softness on your expression deteriorated and was replaced with the familiar annoyance. “You can’t fight people just because they were talking to me.” You sneered.
He removed the small tissue from his nose. “Of course, I can,” He said casually, unbothered by the possessiveness he was displaying. Your glare hardened. “I know you’re mad at me, but you look so good right now.” You did. The sheen of your lipgloss was reflecting from his bedroom light and your hair was styled just how he liked it. 
If you were nerved by his words, you didn’t show it. “You could have gotten seriously hurt.” Even though you were pissed with him, nothing new, your honey-laced words rejuvenated him like a gulp of fresh air. Those butterflies fluttered inside him, threatening to tear through his skin and fly amongst your aura. 
He smiled boyishly. “You look really beautiful in this skirt, by the way. It really suits you.”
His bloodstained fingers gingerly plucked at the bottom of your skirt, lifting the fabric teasingly before dropping it. “You are infuriating.” You said through clenched teeth.
“And you are quite possibly the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 
There was a flash of something in your gaze and he wouldn’t have even caught the change if he hadn’t been mesmerized by the color of your eyes. You blinked and it was gone. “What the hell were you even thinking?” You didn’t know why you even asked. This moron obviously wasn’t thinking. 
Another lovesick smile. “You’re all I think about.” His finger caressed the skin above your knee. “You care about my well-being, gorgeous?”
You visibly swallowed. “No, not at all.” You said and you weren’t even convinced by the declaration. 
He raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconvinced as well. “Oh, really?” He asked.
You narrowed your eyes. “Yes, really.”
Eddie’s dubious stare remained on you as he thought for a moment. “You might be able to lie to everyone else and have them fooled, but I can always tell and you’re lying right now.”
You crossed your arms across you chest and chuckled humorlessly. “So you think you know everything about me now?” You didn’t know how to feel about being seen so clearly. 
He leaned further back against his bedframe and you despised that he behaved with such a casualness, an obvious nonchalance while you were straining to remain as stoic as you could manage. “No, I do know everything about you and I know deep down you like me.”
You rolled your eyes. “I don’t like anything about you.” You lied straight through your teeth, your glittering eyes glowing with a wave of irate anger reserved solely for him. You knew you were lying because there was a different layer of him you were discovering every day and you hated it. you hated that he wasn’t as terrible as you initially thought he was. 
“Tell me more.” He demanded, slowly looming closer to you.
“I’m not flirting with you,” You clarified, “This isn’t some dirty talk.”
His face was disconcertingly close to you and even though you pretended the close proximity disgusted you, you didn’t move. “You’re right. This is better.” And for a moment, neither of you said something. “I never noticed your eyes were this pretty.” He could see you; the depths of your eyes illuminated beneath the light, each shadow accustomed to the shadows and darkness glistening on display for him. Small wrinkles creased by your eyes as you softly smiled, a tenderness reserved for him at that moment, and damn, he swore his breath was yanked from his lungs at the sight. “Don’t look at me like that.” He suddenly said.
You blinked, confused. “What?”
“The way you’re looking at me, it’s turning me on.”
Your expression transformed into disbelief before glancing down at his crotch, merely a few inches away. “Are you seriously hard right now?” 
He grinned shamelessly. “Can you blame me?” He asked brazenly. “Look at you.” Truth be told, if it was regarding you, it didn’t take much at all for him to get hard.
You refrained from expressing how much you like this. “It’s been less than fifteen minutes and you already have a boner. Do I really have that much of an effect on you?”
There wasn’t any hesitation as he answered. “Absolutely.”
You rolled your eyes. “Stop distracting me.” You pushed his head back again, closely examining inside. The bleeding had stopped and there didn’t appear to be any visible fractures. He would be okay with some ice. “So what were they even saying?” You asked, referring to moment that apparently started everything.
Eddie stiffened, hardly noticeable. “Doesn’t matter. I took care of it.”
“If it’s about me, I deserve to know.”
A moment passed and then another, and he didn’t answer. You were going to ask again in a much more demanding and firmer way when he suddenly sighed heavily. “They were making bets on who could fuck you first.” You could the admission burn his tongue like acrid poison.
Your breathing hitched as you processed his admittance. “You were defending me?” You quietly asked. This definitely made things worse for you. The reason he was starting fights, bruising his knuckles with dark redness and scrapes and scratches, was because they were talking about you. Eddie Munson was defending you in his own perverse way.
“Obviously. You’re not up for grabs. You’re mine.” The way he spoke with careless possession shook you to the core. It was as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And you supposed to him, it was.
Your walls were slowly tumbling and crashing down. Fix it, your brain screamed. “I’m not yours.”
He smirked and it was almost devilish. “Not yet.”
“Not ever.” You corrected, choosing to ignore the fire coursing through you.
That insolent smirk never dwindled. “I see you’re still pretending you aren’t madly in love with me.” He said with sweet amusement.
Any and all snarky remarks were stolen from you as his hand gently touched your thigh. So soft. So tender. Fucking fix it, your brain screamed. “I hate you.” Was all you could pathetically manage.
His touch was so simple, feather-light, but it left fire trails on your skin. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t have let me cum for you.”
Another observation you couldn’t find a response for. “A mistake that’s never happening again.”
His hand moved upward, so slow you were restraining yourself from shoving his hand beneath your clothes. “You liked it. I know you did.” He said and you despised knowing this was nothing but the truth. He was confronting you, teasing you because you couldn’t deny it. If you really didn’t like watching him stain his clothes with cum, you wouldn’t have allowed it to happen. You would’ve punched him, reported him, done anything other than spread your legs and tease him. You didn’t like it, you loved it. “I bet you touched yourself when you got home.”
You did. You touched yourself with your fingers until they ached, came with muffled screams as you shoved your face into a pillow until your vibrator’s batteries died, and you even used your showerhead. Hearing him moan and whine like a pathetic boy was fucking filthy and you were soaking through your panties by the time you stepped inside your room.
He took your silence as admission. “Fuck, you really did, didn’t you?” He could feel the warmth radiating from beneath your skirt, teasing his fingertips. If he wasn’t hard enough earlier, he was now. He twitched beneath his jeans. “Sit on my lap.”
Don’t do it. “You’re delusional if you think I’m gonna—”
“Don’t be a fucking brat and sit on my lap.” Your brain was losing and you were thinking with your body—your body that was craving him like he was some addicting drug. Without another word, you slowly crawled to him and plopped down on his clothed thigh like you were always meant to be there. You could feel him throbbing against your clit. He was big and thick. His eyes closed for a second, processing what was happening. This was a slice of heaven served to him on a golden platter. “Get yourself off on my thigh, pretty girl. Make a mess for me.”
And just like that, any delusion you might’ve had that you were capable of turning him down, was flushed down the drain. “What?” You asked breathlessly. In that moment, he could’ve demanded you kiss his sneakers and you would’ve fluttered your eyelashes at him as you did so. 
He gripped your face with a firmness that might’ve made you whimper if you weren’t so shocked. He squeezed your cheeks with one hand, forcing your lips into a teasing pout. “Rub that pretty pussy on my thigh and make yourself cum.” He wasn’t asking. This was a demand he knew you were going to do for him.
You released a wavering breath as you began to move against him and you could hear your arousal clinging against his jeans. This was embarrassing. But not to him. He was probably sick enough to lick your juices from where you’d been rubbing. “Suck on my fingers and keep those pretty eyes open. Look at me, baby.” His fingers that weren’t tainted by his own blood were inside your mouth and you eagerly sucked, licking and kissing them as if they were his leaking cock. Your lips were flushed as you hollowed your cheeks and he watched you drooled on his fingers with heart eyes. “You are fucking beautiful. Let me see those pretty tits.”
There wasn’t any hesitation this time as you lifted your blouse, displaying your breasts and pinching yourself. Another twitch from his cock and he jerked his hips, earning a soft moan from you. “I could cum just by looking at them, pretty girl.”
You removed his fingers from your mouth. “Call me that again,” Your voice was soft, breathless, and laced with a vulnerability he’d never heard from you before. “Please.” Desperate. Needy.
The arrogant smirk on his pink lips was annoying and you wanted to sit on his face so you wouldn’t have to see it. “Aw, you like being called my pretty girl?” There wasn’t any thoughts floating within your mind. All you could think of was the liquid lava moving through your bloodstream as you rubbed your clit against his cock faster. You only nodded. “I thought you hated me? But look at you, drooling for my cock.”
It was pathetic because you were drooling. You were never going to hear the end of this. He slapped your cheek lightly, pleasantly stinging. His touch didn’t hurt, it never did, but it did get a message across. “Let me hear those pathetic sounds. You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you not make any noise.” He was going to memorize and repeat this moment for every time he spit in his hand and jerked himself off. He needed to hear you. He was losing his composure and there was another slap. “I’ve been wanting this for years so fucking moan and say my name.”
“O-Oh, my fucking God, this feels so fucking good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, quickening your pace. Your facade of disgust and hatred disappeared. “Fuck yes, Eddie!” His hands gripped your waist, fingers dipping into the skin of your ass, and he pushed you down harder against him. “Just like that. Just like that.”
His warm and erratic breaths brushed against your jaw. The softness of his lips kissing and sucking as he moaned against your skin. “Come on, baby, make me cum. You can do it, just keep rubbing that pussy on me. Give it to me.”
His mouth moved against your breasts, kitten-licking your peaked nipples before sucking. Something inside you snapped and there was nothing but blinding pleasure, strong enough to steal the moans and air from your throat as you chased your pleasure. Your eyes closed before there were smaller and quick slaps against your cheek. “Look at me when you cum.” His calloused hand slowly drifted to your throat, a firm and shaky grip.
His body twitched and squirmed beneath you as he whimpered against your chest, tongue swirling against your nipple and his hand squeezing the other. Your movements slowly came to a stop and he released your breast with a playful pop. 
His fingertips gently caressed the softness of your cheek, lingering a moment longer on each mark coloring her skin. You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hand as you closed your eyes. You listened to the hard and quick patter of her heart, to each slow and deliberate breath of his, and the rustling of the leaves outside. And you swore if you listened closely enough, you would’ve heard the thumping beneath his chest. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else,” He whispered, a thought escaping his quivering mouth before he could even process his own voice. You ruined him, tore out his thumping heart with your manicured nails, and devastated him—a devastation he craved, needed like the blood coursing through his veins. He would’ve bruised his knees worshipping the floor you stepped on. You had undoubtedly ruined him and he couldn’t do anything about it but thank you.
In a daze, you tangled your fingers in his hair and pressed your glossed lips against his. He couldn’t breathe. You were kissing him, drunk from your orgasm, bare skin against his thick cock, and he couldn’t think. He couldn’t move. He didn’t move. He didn’t kiss you back. At the lack of reciprocation, you pulled away.
The softness of your lips lingered on his, a ghostly remnant of a daydream he’s had for as long as he could remember. His eyes slowly fluttered open, shock swirling in the pools of darkness. His breathing hitched as he forced himself to breathe. Slow and steady. But he couldn’t because he swore he could almost still taste you. Outside, inside the community and neighborhoods of Hawkins, no one would’ve guessed Hawkin’s It-Girl kissed him, your sweet perfume entangled with his cheap cologne. That’s something nobody could’ve predicted, including himself. Well, and that you rode him until you made yourself and him cum.
Your hair cascaded across your skin as you tilted your head, trying to decipher the gleam in his eyes. Your lips were flushed as if you’d been gnawing on them, and you almost pouted at what you thought was rejection. Disappointment colored your expression and you scooted away from him, suddenly uncomfortable with the silence of the room. “I’m sorry I kissed you.” You stood from him and straightened your clothes, readjusting them. “Let’s just forget about it.”
And you were out the door before he could explain that he literally couldn’t talk or function because his dream girl made him cum so hard he was seeing stars.
Shit.
Taglist — @eddiesguitarskills @twihard08 @twilight-love-nochu-main @names-were-taken @definitelynotecho @sidthedollface2
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