eddiesdaydream

[eddiesdaydream]

MafiaBoss!Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Fem!Reader

wc: 17k

+18, omegaverse, boss and secretary, possessive behaviour, jealousy, blood mentions, biting, rough, smut, p in v (unprotected), oral (both ways), slight dubcon at a point, mentions of nancy x reader, fingering, heat and rutting behaviour, breeding kink, spit, marking, degradation

Plot: Being the secretary of a Mafia boss was not easy, much less when you believed your boss was your scent mate and you knew he made your omega coworkers stay after hours to fuck them, yet he never called you to stay. It was time to move on, but your boss smelled the scent of another Alpha on you and decided to make sure you knew who you belonged to.

A/N: it was intended to be just a smut thing, never to be this long. Oh well, enjoy 9k words of pure filth out of that count. this isn't the header i intended, but it'll do

Don't be lazy and reblog.

AFTER HOURS

You didn’t want to pay it much attention. 

You absolutely didn’t. 

But you couldn’t help yourself as you smelled him, walking through the doors a room away. That scent was filled with ash and iron, yet it was intoxicating in the most addicting of ways. You didn’t want to be loving his scent, but you just couldn't avoid it. The omega inside of you always craved to go closer for a deeper smell, but you couldn’t.

He is your boss and you can’t want him this way. You can’t. You’re his secretary, well, one of them. There are four of you in total, always sitting outside of his office at your respective desks. Your coworkers are Omegas, just like yourself, and you have known them for over six months since you started working here.

You found the job offer through a friend of yours, Robin. Your beta best friend that told you her girlfriend was looking for a new secretary at her workplace. You were desperate to leave your old job, being dragged around by a misogynistic Alpha, telling you you were too dumb to be more than a mere assistant, even if you were great at your work and did it all so he would not have anything to do during the day.

You were shoving your resume in Robin’s hands the second she said that. You wanted out, you needed out, and Robin gladly passed it on to her girlfriend. You were called for an interview a week later, but you didn’t expect the job offer to come from one of the highest social buildings in the city. 

You never knew what was inside but you could only guess it was a big company of some sort. When walking through the building, you could smell iron all around you, not blood to be exact, but just a strong smell. It smelled… powerful. A scent that intensified the more you walked through the office.

Then you finally saw Chrissy, going into a glassed room for your interview. You had met Chrissy before, but just a wave from afar. Robin told you Chrissy preferred to stay away from social events, or from meeting new people because of her work. That threw you off but your friend smiled apologetically and you didn’t press on the subject.

As the interview went on, the iron smell got stronger, sharper, only for you to turn around and for your eyes to clash against deep brown ones with dilated pupils. The smell was coming from him. From the man dressed in black outside of the room, his face almost touching the glass, his breath fogging it from how hard he was inhaling and exhaling. 

You remember how awe-struck you were with him, and you remember how badly you wanted to get up from your chair to rush after him. But you saw him take a step back, giving Chrissy a nod and then walking away. You were confused and looked at Chrissy with a questioning look and that’s when you found out.

This was the Komodo mafia gang. They owned many businesses, residences, buildings… You were being interviewed to be Eddie Munson’s secretary. Eddie Munson is an alpha, and the boss of this gang. The owner. The leader. 

Your thoughts were cut off when you saw the doors open, your head whipping to the side to see your boss walking in, ripping his blazer off, the smell of actual blood rushing into the room. All the omegas winced at the smell, as well as the other betas that were walking around with paperwork in their hands. 

Your worry raised, unlike the other Omegas who were aroused or scared in the room, you were worried. Did something happen to him? Is the blood splattered on his shirt his own? Someone else’s? Your nose twitched as a sweet note of vanilla invaded you, and you saw Eddie walking by your desk, giving you a pointed look.

“I’m fine. Anything I need to catch up on?” His voice was low as he stood in front of your desk and you stood up as you tried to go back into your professional stance, shaking your head.

“No sir. I already knew that Kromstar’s dealership had to be sealed in the morning, so I took care of that.” You stood proudly, chin tilted up as you looked at your boss’s reaction. A small smirk was sent your way, followed by a single nod. You grabbed the paperwork from your desk and raised it towards him.

“Perfect. Good job my Rose.” He leaned forward, his hands reaching to hold the paperwork, but the tip of his index finger ran over yours and your breath left your lungs for a second as an electric shock ran down your spine. Your eyes locked with his as you saw his nose flare up slightly and then he took a step back from you.

“Do you– need me to get you some fresh clothes, Mr. Munson?” You kept your voice to a normal level, steady, professional. He shook his head as his eyes scanned your face, only to then look away and start walking towards his office.

“No, Chrissy already prepared stuff for me.” And like that, the scent slowly went away as he closed the doors to his office behind him. You turned your head to see the other omegas and betas looking at you and then returned to their business. 

You sighed as you sat down again. Rose. His Rose. Eddie named his workers with flowers, but the only one that he called by her name was Chrissy. Steve, the male omega, he called Sunflower. Heather, the other female omega, he called Cosmo, and then Carol he called Carnation.

When you were named Rose you were surprised. You wondered what color of rose he pictured when naming you it. Was it pink? Red? White? A rosebud? A single rose? What colors were the other Omegas? Either way, your name caused a string of rumors that didn’t cease until a month later from your first day at your new job.

But he never referred to them as… his. You were the only one. You always wondered why.

You looked up to see Steve and Heather gossiping, and you wondered why you were never close to them. It was fairly civil, but you can’t say you shared a single lunch with them, nor with Carol. You guessed you were not part of their group because–

“Sunflower.” Chrissy’s voice made your head snap towards the big black office doors, her head peeking out. She sent a small greeting smile your way, which you reciprocated before she turned her head back to Steve, who was standing up from his desk so the Alpha knew she had his attention. “Stay after hours tonight.”

You heard a chirp coming from Steve’s way, the scent of lust filling the room as well as happiness. Heather’s scent soured as she received a shoulder wiggle from Steve, showing himself off. Your stomach twirled, moved all around, and you looked down at your paperwork, knowing your scent might be bitter.

You felt your body burn with anger, sadness, and jealousy, the omega inside of you wanting to let out a whine of distress. It was not fair. You were pretty sure you were the one who wanted him the most, you were sure of it… Six months you worked here, six months you’ve seen the other three omegas being called in for after hours, knowing damn well the Alpha was fucking them behind his office doors, and…

You were never called.

Not once. You came to the conclusion he did it to keep it professional with at least one of his secretaries, but– why did it have to be you? Why? His scent drives you crazy, so much so that after that first interview you went into a triggered heat, and you weren’t even near your heat date. 

But you felt his stare. You felt it many times. You saw how his nose flared every time he came close to you, smelling you, taking in your scent just like you did with him. Your omega wanted to jump on the Alpha, and much more knowing he is a good man. He donates to schools and helps with the medical bills of many elderly people in the hospitals. Elderly people that have no one or very little. Not to mention how safe you knew you would be with someone like him. You and your pups would be cared for exceptionally.

Your Omega yearns to be submissive to this Alpha, to be bred by him, mated, protected… But Eddie can’t even see you as a random fuck. He sees you as just what you are. His secretary. You are nothing else but his dutiful, professional secretary. Nothing more, nothing less. You were the only secretary he didn’t fuck so that the job gets done, unlike the other three.

But later on, when you were already out of the office doors, you noticed you left your jacket behind. You would have not cared for it and just retrieved it the next day if it weren't for the fact that it was a friday, and it was your favorite jacket. So you went back up, all the way to the 23rd floor. 

And god you wish you hadn’t.

The smell of sex filled your nostrils as you walked out of the elevator doors. His scent, spiked, aroused, strong, and fierce. You walked by the cubicles where a few betas were still typing away stuff, only caring for the job to be done. Guards stood by the door where your desk was, your office.

You were let in and you felt your knees weaken and tremble the closer you got to the desk, which was the closest to Eddie’s door. His office. You could hear the purring, the moaning, Steve calling Eddie’s name, and–

“Alpha– Knot me– Knot me, please–”

You felt like vomiting. You needed to get out of there. You needed to run. You needed to leave this place. Your hand snatched the jacket off the back of your chair and you rushed out of the doors and past all the cubicles. You didn’t want to think about it. You couldn’t bear to think about Eddie knotting someone. 

As soon as the doors of the elevators closed, you let yourself whine and sob a couple of times as tears filled your eyes. Why do you feel so rejected? Nothing ever happened between the two of you. Nothing. The words were very little, and the most physical contact you had with him was the brushing of fingertips when he reached for something that was on your hand.

It didn’t make sense, but it might mean you found your scent mate… only that it’s one-sided. If it is that, you would have to leave the city. Leaving the job only won’t do the trick, you need to leave the city, fuck, even the state. 

You felt your belly cramp less and less the more floors you went down and the less you could smell the aroused Omega and the feral Alpha. You can’t keep doing this. Maybe you need the distraction. You need someone else.

These six months you’ve been working here, there was this pull or this sense of respect that didn’t allow you to properly agree to dates or encounters with other people. Not even betas. You didn’t know why but you just felt like you needed to reject these advances. Your hands gripped your purse and zipped it open, taking out your cell phone and opening your Instagram.

Maybe this will help you feel better.

It did, yet it didn’t.

It did because Nancy was very sweet. The Alpha met you through Robin at a party once, and you chatted all night long, exchanging usernames on Instagram with one another. She messaged you a couple of times but soon after you started your new job and you didn’t feel the need to engage with her in such a manner any longer.

And when meeting with her she was kind, and respectful, and you were the one that had to initiate the flirting stance of the night out. Nancy was a good alpha. She looked like she could take care of you, so you didn’t mind when she asked if you wanted to go back to her place. 

That’s when your mind couldn’t help but think of someone else when having sex with Nancy.

It wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to imagine him, but you felt like if you didn’t you wouldn’t have been able to even suck her cock. You don’t know what to make out of it, but you wanted her to knot you. You wanted it so you could confirm if you had an unrequited scent mate situation, and by the looks of it, it seems you did… You didn’t let Nancy knot you. You backed out at the last minute.

Her knot bumped into your entrance a couple of times, but you couldn’t let it in. You just let out warning growls at her everytime it did and Nancy respected it. But, even amidst all of that, you at least had your thirst quenched. Even if a bit and with someone you didn’t truly want.

Now monday, back in the forsaken office you want to burn down to start a whole new torturous week. You were at your desk, putting your paperwork away as Carol talked to you from hers, steps away from yours.

“Someone had fun.” She snickers as she chews on her gum and you glance once at her and back down, Steve’s voice filling your ears.

“Carol, knock it off.” Out of the three omegas, Steve was the most tolerable one. You looked up at him and he gave you a nod and then looked back down at his papers. Carol scrunched her nose and then started writing down on her contracts. 

You wondered if the three showers you took were not enough. You were sure it was enough. You didn’t have any marks on you, you told Nancy not to leave any. You sighed at how unprofessional this might make you seem in front of everyone. You tried taking the scent off but it seems it didn’t work and now everyone knows. 

The iron scent filled your nostrils and you knew your boss got off the elevator. All of you got up from your desks to receive your boss, but your nose scrunched when you started smelling something bitter or pungent. The doors opened with Eddie, followed by Chrissy right on his heels. His hands were in his pockets as the four secretary omegas gave a nod and a greeting to their boss. 

He was about to pass by you but he suddenly stopped. You tilted your head as you saw his nose flaring slightly. The scent in the room became a little suffocating, your knees feeling like they wanted to give up on you and it seemed that it was taking an effect on the other omegas because you could hear Heather whining in fear in the corner of the room.

You didn’t know what was going on, but then another scent joined in, spicy, alarmed. Chrissy was inspecting Eddie’s back and then she slowly turned to face you. Her eyes widened slightly as she took a deep breath in. 

Your eyes were wide, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you saw Eddie slowly turning to face you. His eyes were black, pure black. You could feel your omega wanting to submit, to ask for forgiveness, but for what? You didn’t do anything wrong, so why is his anger directed towards you? 

“Mr. Munson?” Your voice was small and worried, but you needed to know why he was looking at you like he wanted to… kill you? 

“Mr. Munson, I think we should head inside.” Chrissy’s hand pressed on his shoulder as Eddie’s eyes kept scanning you, from head to toe. Did you do something? Did you forget to do paperwork on friday? Did you miss a client? No, it’s not like you… but who knows? You are human.

Eddie’s face got closer to yours as you stood there, looking at him as he towered over you, his presence bigger than this room, and you felt like you were being suffocated. You felt your heart hammering in your chest, his breath hitting your face as it came out of his nostrils in harsh puffs. 

His face was tense, his jaw clenched, and a vein was popping out on his forehead. Then you heard a low rumble, a vibration and you realized that he was growling. Your boss was growling at you. You whined slightly now, knowing you had done something wrong. You didn’t know what but he was displeased with you, no, he was angry, furious with you.

“Sir–” Chrissy tried again, this time more alarmed, more pressure in her tone, but keeping her Alpha rank below Eddie’s. She sounded worried as she looked at you and then back at Eddie, and– was he going to fire you? What did you do?

Eddie growled loudly as a rough hand made your pen holder fly across the room and hit the wall with force. You gasped and jumped one step back at the sudden aggressiveness, never having seen your boss like this. You were scared, worried, alarmed, but you wanted to apologize, for whatever you did. 

The male Alpha huffed once and marched into his office. Chrissy was breathing heavily and then looked at you, shaking her head to calm you down. You didn’t notice the whine that was leaving your throat until Chrissy tried to shush you.

“What– Did I forget to do something on friday?” You were trembling, and Chrissy shook her head and was about to press a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you, only to retreat before doing so.

“N-No… he– had a rough weekend. Please, don’t be alarmed omegas, just– Please, have a twenty-minute break and come back.” Chrissy gave you one last glance before she turned and rushed into the Alpha’s office. You looked at the other Omegas in the room and they were as confused as you but more scared. The guard nodded to you all towards the other door, and you wanted to barge into his office and ask if he was okay. Ask for forgiveness, or do something to make him feel better.

But as you were escorted out for your break, you started hearing things breaking inside his office as well as muffled yelling. You held a whine in as your body trembled and then you walked out of your office. You looked at the other three omegas who only crossed their arms at you with frowns on their faces.

“What the fuck did you do?” Heather asked and you shook your head, not knowing what to say.

“I– I swear I don’t know, I– I did all my work on friday and I rechecked today and everything is fine?” Your heart wanted to explode and your stomach twisted with nerves and you needed to pace. You needed to let go of the energy that was consuming you. The omegas followed you as you walked towards the balcony to get some air, the murmurs of your other coworkers making your head throb. You didn’t need the speculations or people making more rumors about you. Not right now.

“You did something! Did you check properly?” Steve asked this time and you growled at them, taking them aback. Omegas hardly growled, only when purely distressed or displeased.

“I didn’t! Maybe it was one of you that lacked on their job to get their pussy wet with the boss and since I’m the only one that actually works, I get the fucking blame!” Your voice was loud, high-pitched, angry, and fed up. Carol cleared her throat and scoffed as she squinted at you.

“Don’t blame it on us. It’s not our fault he doesn’t want to touch a single strand of your head.” Your heart plummeted to the ground at that and Steve pressed a hand on Carol’s shoulder only for her to rip it out of his grasp and walk away. 

You were looking down at the floor, and you felt your eyes fill with tears. You heard Steve and Heather mumble something to one another before walking away, and then all you could hear was the beating of your heart in your ears. What did you do? What have you done so badly, so wrongly, for him to get angry like this?

Will you get fired? Maybe… Fuck, what if you do get fired? But didn’t you want to? Wasn’t that one of the best decisions for you? You didn’t want to feel this anymore, this rejection, this pain in your gut. You don’t want to be near him any longer, not if you have to watch him be with others all the time. Watch him choose others before you. You can’t keep doing that to yourself.

So maybe if he fires you it is for the best. Whatever the reason might be. You would be able to move on at one point, leaving the city, away from him and his scent. Yes, it will hurt leaving Robin behind, but you can’t bear it. You can’t. Seeing him this angry at you, not only makes you feel little and useless, but also it adds up to the rejection. You feel unwanted, undesired.

You take your time, taking deep breaths before walking back. The other three already returned to their desks, but you took one more minute to yourself. You took a deep breath in before you walked through your office doors and you could hear your coworkers typing away, in silence.

The air was tense, the scent around you all was covered by sprays and blockers, yet you could still smell the bitterness, the sourness, the musk. You just wanted to head home. You needed to head home. Maybe you can call Chrissy and tell her you don’t feel well. Yeah, you’ll do that.

You walked towards your desk and slowly sat down on your chair. As soon as you did, Eddie’s door opened and Chrissy walked out, closing the door behind her. All the omegas snapped their heads to look at her, expectantly, except for you. You knew that when Chrissy walked out of Eddie’s office it meant–

“You’ll stay after hours tonight.” That. She always says that. Wait–

“Huh?” Your head snapped upwards to see Chrissy looking down at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“You’ll stay after hours tonight. No questions asked, you cannot reject it. You must stay.”

Your eyes were wide as you looked at how she turned and walked back into the black doors, the guard moving away for her to enter. You looked at the door, and stared at it as if what just happened was a fantasy that happened in your head. There’s– 

Your breathing accelerated as you looked down at the desk. This wasn’t like when he asked for Steve or Heather or Carol to stay, wasn’t it? You couldn’t smell anything, fuck, you couldn’t smell what he was feeling at all. You can still smell the bitterness despite the blockers in the room, but you don’t know if it is remnants of before or–

“Hey, hey, you need to calm down.” You didn’t notice Steve was in front of you with worry in his eyes as he rested his palms on your desk. You looked at him, frowning, lip trembling, and you didn’t notice the whines coming from your throat. Your eyes filled with tears as the anxiety consumed you, and you were in clear distress.

“I mean, Steve, she has every right to be like this, it’s not like he is calling her to do what he does to us.” Heather snickered on the corner, disguising her displeasure of you being called tonight, but also calm because the boss was not in a good mood at all. That comment didn’t make you feel any better, if anything, it made you feel worse. 

The first time you are asked to stay after hours, and it’s because you might get fired or– killed? It looked like that. He looked like he was going to eat you or rip you to shreds, not sexually. It didn’t look like that for you at all, and the scent he was leaving was a clear giveaway.

“Heather, shut the fuck up, you’re not helping.” Steve bared his teeth slightly at the coworker and all you could do was stare down at your desk. You started frowning as you looked down at your papers. Everything is fine… You know it. You know everything you did was right and on time. Work wise? You were impeccable.

Your posture changed as you straightened up and took a deep breath in. You cleared your throat and gathered your papers and looked at your computer. You will recheck but, you know everything was fine. You looked at Steve and directed a soft smile his way.

“I’m fine. It was nice working with you Steve, I say this just in case we don’t see eachother after today.” Your voice became low, calm as your thoughts settled. Whatever you did, it wasn’t of your knowledge, or whatever someone else did and blamed it on you. You know you did everything right, so even if you’re scared… terrified, you will stand your ground.

Steve only cleared his throat and walked back to his desk as Heather and Carol looked back down to their computers as they shared one look. It wasn’t nice working with them, you weren’t going to lie to them, but Steve was the only one that helped you with stuff, despite him fucking your possible scent mate.

Now it was a matter of waiting, looking at your watch as the hours went by, and your nerves started eating away your intestines, your stomach, just everything. You felt like you were being consumed slowly but you had to keep your head straight. You were not going to be chewed for something you didn’t do, or a misunderstanding, or a rumor.

You might not return to your office tomorrow, so you started putting some of your stuff all together in your drawer, maybe someone will bring you a cardboard box for later on. Steve was looking at you from the corner of his eye, eyebrows frowned as he typed away.

And then, 6 PM arrived. Chrissy walked out from the black doors and looked at the other three Omegas with a sharp look.

“Leave immediately.” Your breath was taken out of your lungs as you heard her authoritative tone, her Alpha voice vibrating against the walls of your office. Steve gave you one last look before he got up from his chair and ducked his head as a goodbye. You stayed in your chair as you saw how the other omegas left the office giving you final glances.

Your heart was accelerated, wanting to break out from your chest and you felt the blood rushing through your ears like a waterfall. You looked at Chrissy and she turned to face the guard. Without a word, the guard that was on Eddie’s door walked out of your office, surprising you because the guards never left.

“Um… why is Geoffrey–” 

“You must stay on this floor. The boss doesn’t want…” Chrissy bit her tongue as she looked at you with a frown. You didn’t know if it was stern, or worried, or a mixture of both. “Get inside his office once you do not hear anyone else. Good luck Rose.”

And then you saw Chrissy walking out of the door of your office. You sucked in a breath as you saw from the open door how all the betas were being commanded to leave, which never happened. There were always a few who stayed or did night shifts. Your breath was heavy as you realized Chrissy was clearing out the floor, leaving you and Eddie as the only people on it.

You heard the elevator ding many times as people left. You still couldn’t smell anything, and you didn’t notice you were scratching the wood of your desk from your anxiety. You sharpened your ear until no more dings came from outside. You gulped as you shakily stood up from your chair and looked at the big black double doors. 

You stepped away and fixed yourself, wanting to appear unaffected or as professional as possible, not wanting him to know how anxious you were. You took a few steps towards his office, your heels clicking on the floor. You took a sharp deep breath in as your hand trembled, grabbing the door handle. You then opened it and– oh god–

The scent was strong, pungent, making your nose burn. It was a mixture of so many smells, including wood, lemon, ash, and leather? Musk? But you also noticed the hint of bitterness, of sourness. Strong and sharp. It was suffocating, yet– you could feel your belly turning, strongly, pulling you to him. You felt your body growing hot, just like it always did when you caught his scent but this time it was ten times worse.

You held your breath in order to concentrate on your task of walking inside, seeing his back turned to you, behind his desk, and looking out his big windows, going all the way to the very tall ceiling. His hair was tied up in a bun, wearing a black buttoned-up shirt with a loosened burgundy tie around his neck, with the sleeves rolled up just under his elbows and his black pants. He had a cigarette in his hand and you could see the smoke leaving him as it went over his head.

“Lock the door after you walk in.” His voice was demanding, not yet authoritative. You wanted to run away from this confrontation but you knew he would come in contact with you one way or another. 

You slowly stepped inside, feeling like every step was one step closer to your doom, or to something unknown. You closed the door and took a deep breath in as you locked the door just as he ordered. Were you… going to die? Did you read something you shouldn’t have? You don’t remember anything that would have made you think you shouldn’t have, so–

“Come closer Rose.” His voice was strained, angry still. You gulped and followed his instructions, slowly taking steps closer to him until you were ten steps away from his desk. The scent was stronger and you felt like kneeling before him as you felt wetness start to pool inside your underwear. You were embarrassed, but maybe he won't notice if you don’t show it. Fuck his scent for making you this way, you might die right now, and all you can feel is being horny?

“Sir… What do you… need me for?” You asked, slowly and mostly submissive, to show him that whatever he says will go, at least for now. You heard a rumble, and you didn’t know if it was a groan or a growl. He took a puff out of his cigarette before speaking again.

“Do you know why you’re here?” 

“Not really… Did I do something to make you this displeased?” It was a risky question, but someone had to break the ice for it. 

“You did.” You felt your breath being knocked out of your lungs. Fuck, what did you do? What could you have possibly done? Whatever you did was no small thing, remembering how he threw your pen holder across the room. 

“I– I checked everything I did on friday and I didn’t notice anything– Was it something my colleagues had to do that–”

“Did she knot you?”

Your mouth fell open as you looked at his back, your heart stopping completely at the question. How did he–?

“What?”

“I asked you a question, Rose, so you answer it accordingly.” And then your boss slowly started turning around, and you felt your blood leaving your body as his eyes, now all black, not a single speck of brown anywhere looked into your soul. You couldn’t see his irises from how dilated his pupils were. His features were clenched, eyebrows tense, and when he fully turned to you, you saw how his chest was moving quicker than normal because of his breathing. “Did. She. Knot. You.”

Your eyes looked into his again, noticing the anger, the rage, the desperation that lingers there. Your scent probably spiked right now because irritation coursed through you. How dare he? Why? You need confirmation that he has the information of your personal life, because, why the fuck would he need it?

“I’m sorry Sir, she?”

“Nancy Wheeler. 27. Journalist. Presented at the age of 15 as an Alpha, moved to the city of Chicago three years ago to pursue her career. She has two siblings, her father, and mother still alive, no Omega mated to her, so this is your last chance to answer. Did she knot you?” His voice was low, commanding, not yet authoritative in his Alpha tone, but it was coming to it. Your lip twitched at this man's audacity, not understanding the reason for the interrogation.

“With due respect, I don’t think my personal affairs are important at all.” And then Eddie’s hands slammed against the desk and your eyes widened when the Alpha’s teeth were suddenly bared, growling at you, the noise sending a wave of daggers across your entire skin.

“I CAN SMELL HER ON YOU!” His voice was loud enough that you felt like the walls shook from its vibration. Your heart was about to explode as you took a step backwards, your belly turning in fear as well as– arousal? Nerves? You couldn’t pinpoint it, but his scent was becoming stronger and stronger and it was making your mind turn hazy and your belly cramp slightly.

How dare he? How dare he ask something like that? Why does he care or why does he acknowledge it? Is it because Nancy’s Alpha scent was stronger than his? Was his ego crushed? You stepped back to the place you were standing, your face stern as you defied your boss, your senses on alert and sharp as you looked at him, trying not to glare to not create more discourse.

“I repeat, I do not believe my personal business has anything to do with you, sir. I do not meddle in yours, except work-related. All professional business.” Your voice was firm and assertive, yet there was a hint of shakiness behind it. Of course there was, Eddie was still baring his teeth at you, the air around you clenching your lungs, tightly, wanting to rip them apart.

He put out the cigarette on the ashtray, or one would say he smashed it into it from the force he sent his hand down. His nose scrunched up in distaste as he clenched his eyes tightly as if trying to contain himself from something. You were overwhelmed with all the Alpha pheromones that were around you, and you couldn’t understand the reason behind the question. You opened your mouth to speak again but he interrupted you with a rough tone.

“Why the fuck did you let another alpha touch you?” He asked but you didn’t know if he was asking it to you or if he was talking to himself because he was still not looking at you. He was clenching his eyes as his hands gripped the edge of the desk. You noticed the veins popping on his forearms, underneath the ink, you could still see the bumps thanks to the reflection of the soft lamps around you. 

“Sir–”

“And you didn’t even take her scent off of you. You didn’t wash her fucking scent off your skin.” His eyes looked into yours again, his top lip twitching into showing off his teeth again but he was containing himself so it seemed. You gulped and looked down at your feet, trying to control your breathing as you felt yourself becoming smaller each second he stared at you.

“I– I tried. I thought I managed but– I’m sorry if it is unprofessional–” and you heard him let out a sarcastic chuckle, making you look back up at him.

“Unprofessional? Yes. You can call it that… so I’ll take that stench off of you.” Your eyebrows knitted together in the center of your forehead, not understanding the meaning of his words.

“You’ll– I don’t understand?” And the room became silent. You made a displeased sound when you felt some slick soaking your panties and it started being a little uncomfortable. You wanted to bolt out of here, you wanted to go away but you felt– you felt like you were being preyed on. You felt like fucking prey.

“I will take that putrid smell away. I will replace it with my scent.”

And you froze. You felt as if all the blood had drained from your body in just one instant. You couldn’t feel the tip of your fingers as you watched him as he rounded the desk, steps slowly taken, the sound muffled by the single large carpet against the wooden floor. You were breathing as best as you could as your mind processed his words. 

His scent? Why? You two– 

“We– Why?” 

“Because you are mine.” And that made your blood come back to your veins, but it was burning now. His? You’re his? You saw how his eyebrow twitched at the change of attitude inside of you once again.

“Yours? I’m not yours, sir. I am free to do as I please… just like you are.” You saw his jaw clenching at your defiance as he stood in front of you, two steps away, towering over you. He smelled so good, but so strong, so dangerously strong. He squinted his eyes slightly at you as he scanned your body, and then back at your face.

“Time to change that. Strip.” You couldn’t process his words correctly in your brain. What did he say? Why–

“What–?” His eyes were staring into your soul as his hands clenched at his sides.

“Strip.” And you didn’t want to comply, you wanted answers first, or at least for him to realize how hypocritical he was being. Your body trembled with the need of submission but you prevailed, not wanting to fall for it.

“I don’t see the need to.” And that’s when you heard it, the growl, and his teeth were bared once more. 

“I said, strip, Omega.” His voice, now authoritative in his Alpha command. You felt yourself become limp, your mind shutting off slightly from rationality and control. You could only tear up as your hands went towards the buttons of your blouse against your will. You wanted answers, you needed them, not do this. 

His eyes watched you as you slowly undressed, and every try of you gaining control of your hands once again was useless. If it were another Alpha, you could have probably fought the command, but Eddie was your kryptonite. Now you are sure he is your scent mate, though you are not his. This is enough proof. Not being able to stop at all, even if there might be danger, that’s when your omega is in complete submission to THEIR alpha.

Your hands removed your blouse first, then you unzipped, and dropped your tube skirt, then got out of your shoes. You were not looking at him as you felt your eyes burning, your hands moving towards your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall down. The last piece of clothing were your black lace panties. 

You didn’t realize you were trembling as your hand got under the elastic of your underwear, but a hand stopped you. A ringed, tattooed hand gently grasped yours and you felt yourself breathing again, for some reason feeling safe. You shortly realized it was him releasing calming pheromones towards you. His feelings were being a whiplash for you, not understanding the brutal change, not understanding if he wanted to intimidate you or rather calm you.

“You– You have your fun with the other omegas… why can’t I have my own?” Your voice came out small, but then you raised your head to look at him. His eyes were black, pitch black. His nose was flaring as he looked at you and his mouth was slightly open, and you took notice of his fangs being enlarged somewhat. You frowned at the display, at how– desperate he looked.

“I will ask… one more time…” His voice low, strained, and there was a hint of begging behind it. “Did she knot you?”

And your face twisted, your scent soured making his nose scrunch up, his eyebrow twitch as he scanned your features. 

“Did you knot them? Sunflower? Carnation? All?” You hissed through your teeth, your displeasure known for once and for all, and then, the room felt as if it spun around you, oxygen was exchanged for his smell.

A loud snarl was heard from him, vibrating within himself and you swore you could feel it inside you as well from how intense it was. How alarming. How threatening. How empowering. How… possessive. It made you shiver, whimper, and look at him with eyes filled with uncertainty, fear, excitement, arousal, and nervousness– just a mix of many emotions.

And you knew he could smell you. You knew he could smell the slick, your juices just making a mess out of your thin thong, coming out from the sides and already dampening your inner thighs. You couldn’t help yourself, you couldn’t help how your limbs were trembling for his touch, and you didn’t have to wait long for it, just not how you expected.

Tattooed hands went towards the loosened tie around his neck and undid it in one single tug. Your heart skipped a beat as he put the tie in his mouth, biting onto it, while he grabbed your wrists, making you gasp at the sudden touch, but then– fear mixed with arousal. He held your wrists together in front of you with just one hand, while he used the other to wrap the tie around them, expertly, and then tying them up together. 

It was tight, a small whimper getting stuck in your throat.

His right hand flew to the back of your head, clenching your hair in a warning and threatening grip, a hiss falling from your lips as he pulled your face closer to his. His hot breath falling on your lips like molten lava, his eyes long gone from rationality, and you know, you just know, you cannot defy him. Not now.

“On your knees.” He didn’t use his Alpha tone. He didn’t have to. Despite your fear, the twist in your gut, your dignity yelling at you at the back of your head to not do this, to not become one of his many toys just because his alpha pride was hurt, you still got on your knees. It was slow, and your eyes never left his as you sunk lower.

His hand left your head and went to undo his pants, and the zipper noise made your eyes move to the bulge that was in front of you. You couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to nuzzle your face against it, but you weren’t going to indulge in that feeling. You weren’t going to become putty, even if your omega was jumping happily, making you want to purr in delight and chirp because your scent mate was finally looking your way.

His tattooed hands, scarred even, pulled the zipper down and then his pants went downwards with a push. Your eyes were fixated on the wet stain that was over the dark blue hue of the fabric of his boxers. Your tongue tingled with the need of darting it out to lick on it, needing to taste it, to finally have his flavor in your mouth.

He could probably see it, how your eyes teared up, or clouded, pupils starting to dilate slowly, and how your own wetness was gushing out even more. You wanted to rip the tie off with your teeth, let your hands free to touch him, but– No. You cannot do this. It’s not fair. But it is what you have wanted all along, isn’t it? You closed your eyes to try to keep your brain to yourself, trying to control your body, at least regain a bit of it.

“Mr. Munson– I will not be one more for the collection.” You didn’t expect a low chuckle to escape him, but you could hear the angered growl behind it, expressing how disgusting that comment of yours was. Your eyes opened, looking up at him, only to see enraged eyes and bared teeth directed your way, which only made you tremble in fear, in anticipation, and in eagerness.

“You have no idea what the fuck you are talking about, My Rose.” His. Why is there so much anger coming from the Alpha that is now towering you? You cannot comprehend it. You cannot really understand it. His hands moved, you noticed, and then when your eyes went back to your front, your breath caught in your throat.

His cock sprung out and hit his pelvis as he pulled his boxers down enough to release it. It was thick. The tip was bright red, and it looked like it hurt. You couldn’t help yourself when your mouth started watering, seeing the drop of precum leaking out of the tip. You felt your saliva pooling on your tongue, your eyes fixated on it, and your body was suddenly set ablaze as your wrists tried pulling against the tie with no chance of success of untying yourself.

“Taste it.” Eddie’s voice was low, and commanding, and you didn’t really know if he was using his Alpha tone or not, but your body reacted instantly. Your tongue darted out, and the tip of it scooped up that drop of precum escaping him. You tasted it, mouth closed and if your mind was hazy before, it was now gone. Out of the window who you were before tasting him. Dead was the woman who could probably live without the need to know this taste. 

Your eyes were closed as you moaned at how delicious he was. Everything made sense, puzzles were put together, that little earring you thought you lost was found again, you discovered the secret ingredient to a recipe you never got right. And then–

Your eyes opened, revealing that tears had filled them, slick dripping furiously down your inner thighs, body trembling, lip wobbling as you stared up at him. The Alpha that made you simply lose yourself.

“Please… Please…” You begged. You didn’t even need to probably, but you still begged. His hand went towards your head again, his fingertips softly digging into your scalp. His jaw was clenched, strained.

“Open, Omega.” Electricity rushed through your body at the command, at his voice calling you omega. He called you it. And how can you ever defy him? Not now. Not ever. Not after this.

Your eyes looked at the red tip in front of you, and you saw how his dick twitched, bobbing a little, as if anticipating your touch, your warmth. His hand was still on the back of your head, but was not pushing you. Not that it needed to. 

Your mouth opened, tongue lolling out just slightly as you leaned forward. The tip touched your tongue first and then you kept going, finally taking him inside your mouth. A pleased growl vibrated through the room, and Eddie could only throw his head back in delight as your warmth finally started to engulf him.

Moaning is the only thing that could be heard from you the more you took him inside. Once you knew you couldn’t go further without choking, you moved your hands to help yourself only to whine at feeling them tied. You could only use your mouth on him, but it was no time to complain. There wasn’t any.

His grip tightened as you started bobbing your head, coating his dick in saliva, all over, slobbering it so much that it started running down the side of your mouth. You didn’t know it, but the Alpha before you was losing his mind, fighting against the animal that was inside of him.

Your moans helped with the vibrations around him, and you felt your entire body just burning inside out. You pulled away to be able to dip the tip of your tongue onto the slit of the head of his cock. He groaned loudly as he looked down at you and then you felt him guide you, which you obliged. 

His cock went inside your mouth again, and you started moving faster, but not by choice. If it were your call, you would take your time to taste him properly, try to trace every ridge of his veins so that it burns into your memory because, you don’t know if you will ever have this opportunity again. 

Even if your mind was knocked out of the park, you still remember how he has never called on you for months. How he slept with others and not you. How when the slight bit of his ego got damaged, he commanded you to be on your knees for him. So yes, you do not know if this will ever happen again.

So you’ll take this chance.

His hand guided you to move faster on him, your tongue slurping against the shaft, allowing him to slide in easily over and over into your mouth. Your pussy clenched with need around absolutely nothing. The scent of him filling you, sweaty, and with the distinctive little hints of cackling wood in the fire. 

Your belly turned at hearing his grunts, willing your eyes to open and look up at him, still moving your head, swallowing him in. He was looking down at you with his eyebrows meeting in the middle, groaning, growling, grunting under his breath. He looked in pain, or was it desperation? You couldn’t figure it out, but it can wait, right now you just want to keep tasting him.

You closed your eyes again, and his hips started moving against your movements, making him go a little deeper, beginning to touch the back of your throat. You started feeling the beginnings of your gags, but you focused on breathing through your nose. His grip tightened at the back of your head and then out of nowhere, he pushed you into his thrust. You yelped, or rather choked a yelp in surprise, feeling the tip of his cock pushing further into your throat. 

Your eyes started burning, raising your hands to grab onto his right knee, a silent plea to pull away before you start gagging. But at the same time you didn’t want him away, because your nose was now into his pubic hair, his scent stronger than ever and the omega inside of you was elated. 

“Taking me so good in that little mouth of yours. Such a good omega for me.” His voice was strained but you could only purr at his praise, but that action made you lose concentration and you gagged on him, coughing, and his grip loosened for you to pull away. You gasped for air as he got out of your mouth with a pop. You breathed heavily as you felt tears running down your cheeks, looking up at him with a lost look in your eyes.

“Did you say that to them as well?” The words were out of your mouth before you could think. Even in your delight, it seems the rejection you suffered these past months was not easy to forget. Not even if you were in the one thing you have wanted to experience all this time. 

He was looking down at you in disbelief. He thought he was clear enough, but he was never good with words, and his actions could be better. He snarled down at you, his fangs showing in displeasure, but you didn’t back down and you hissed at him. Your omega wanted answers, defying the Alpha towering over you, and Eddie was taken aback by it. 

You felt possessive, needing to know if he had knotted your coworkers, if he had called them omegas, if he had called them sweet yet nasty names. You felt this was your Alpha, and you were angry, saddened, disappointed. He wasn’t yours, but you certainly felt he was, and this is your excuse for the way you’re reacting.

“Dense as fuck. Cute, but aren’t you a dumb little thing?” You were stunned at his insult but you winced when he dug his fingertips into your scalp, pulling you up on your feet once more, and then he continued talking “-- let me do to you things I didn’t do with the rest.”

His lips were on yours in a frenzy, making you gasp in surprise, not expecting him to kiss you at all. He didn’t seem like the man to be keen on kissing, because most of the time people thought of it as intimate, or caring. Maybe he was not one of those people and you were completely wrong about him, because the fact is– You don’t know him at all.

But how could you complain when he didn’t care that you just had him in your mouth? His lips were hungrily devouring yours, tasting himself, and you. He groaned into the kiss, his chest rumbling in delight, resembling a purr that only made you whimper in need, your hands reaching up to grab onto his shirt. Your wrists started to hurt as you kept tugging at them to be able to touch, to feel more, but it seemed that he didn’t intend to take the tie off.

His teeth bit onto your bottom lip, and you winced as he tugged on it before pulling away. Your eyes fixated on him as he licked his teeth with his tongue and you could see the red tint on them. You were bleeding and he was moaning at the taste of it, which only made the slick overflow and run down your legs more than before.

You whined in need as you felt a cramp punching you in your belly. The need of his knot resembled that of a heat, but you knew you were not due yet. The last one you had, you asked for a week off, and it was a month ago. You had to wait for another month for your next heat, so you didn’t understand why you were cramping.

Was it because of him? Was it just his mere scent and touch enough to induce you into a placebo of a heat? Into the feel of it? He was clearly your scent mate, there was no question now. There were no doubts. To make you feel like a bitch in heat at any time of the month, that is only something scent mates are able to do.

His eyes found yours as you licked your bottom lip, tasting the iron of your own blood. It wasn’t a deep or long cut, but it was still a small one. His chest rumbled as he took a sharp intake of breath in, smelling you, your arousal, your slick. His eyes closed for a second as you stared at his features, wanting to grab onto his face and kiss him again, but– you were not able to.

“I need to fucking taste you.” You gasped at his words and then you were guided towards his desk. You saw him just throw everything on the floor, including important paperwork. You knew it was important because it was the same thing you have been working on the last week. Once the desk was cleared and he turned to face you again, you opened your mouth to complain, only to be interrupted by his hand gripping your bicep, tightly and pushing you against the desk, your hip hitting the edge of it.

You whimpered in pain, knowing very well that it would leave a bruise on your skin. Your breath got caught in your throat when his hands pressed on your waist and lifted you off the ground in order to place you on the desk. His breaths were heavy, looking at you with intensity and purpose. A shiver ran down your spine when his digits dug into the skin of your waist, fingernails seemingly sharper as it scratched your flesh.

A yelp escaped your lips as his hands pushed on your shoulders, making you fall back, laying down on the desk and quickly, his hands moved to your knees in order to spread your legs for him. You whimpered as you could tell there was a string of your slick connecting both your inner thighs, the cold air making it obvious. Tears of embarrassment filled your eyes as you turned your head to the side, hiding your face behind your tied hands.

“Don’t you dare fucking hide your face from me.” You didn’t listen, not caring for the warning growl he directed your way. Suddenly your hands were engulfed by a singular larger one and pushed upwards, over your head, your knuckles slamming against the hardwood of the desk. Your breathing hitched as your head looked back at him, a piercing and threatening gaze as he bared his teeth for your submission. 

His eyes went towards your breasts, and without a second to waste, he dove downwards, taking your right nipple into his mouth. Your body jerked at the touch, and you bit your bottom lip to hold back a moan, only to whimper in pain as you remembered you had a cut. You realized he did it on purpose so you wouldn’t be able to bite onto anything to hold back your noises. 

His tongue swirled on your perked nipple, making your stomach jump at the attention, his scent spiking up with a hint of sweetness, delight. An appreciative growl, a low purr vibrated in his throat at your taste, at your reaction to him. His free hand went to rub your left nipple, his calloused fingertips rough to the touch, and then he nipped on your right one, making you gasp as your back arched, his hand holding your wrists tightening.

He pinched and bit and sucked on your nipples like a man starved, like this was the one thing he had been dreaming about for an eternity. Your eyes widened in the haze of your lust as you saw him rubbing his neck against your breasts, passing his scent gland all over. He was marking you, putting a claim on you that you didn’t think he deserved even if you wanted it and wanted to chirp in contentment.

“Sir–”

“Alpha.” He demanded and your eyes clashed with his again. He was right on your face, eyes dark as he asked you to call him the one thing you have been wanting to call him the moment you smelled him six months ago. Why now? Should you comply? Should you call him what he wants, needs?

“A–A–” You tried, but you knew that the moment you called him that way, you were going to enter in a mild state of a hivemind. Your rationality will fade slowly, only caring for the knot of the Alpha that was towering over you right now. His knot, his scent, his bite. You felt his hand leave your wrists but before you could lower them, his hand grabbed your chin roughly, making you pucker your lips as you felt the rumble in his chest.

“I’m your Alpha, Omega, and you will call me as such.” He spat through his teeth and you could only whine, which got cut short when a moan replaced it. His hips pressed against yours and you could feel his cock pressing against your clothed, wet and throbbing cunt. You felt yourself clench at nothing. Absolutely nothing. You were fucking desperate. 

“Y–You… are not mine… and I’m not yours.” Your voice was muffled by your puckered lips and he only hissed at you in complete displeasure, in disgust towards your words.

“We’ll change that tonight. Once and for all.” He removed his hand from your breast and held onto the elastic of your thong. You gasped in pain as he pulled, the lace digging into your skin the more he stretched it until you heard a rip. You hissed at the burn the pull left on your hip, and then his hand left your face, letting you move your jaw freely once more. 

Your mind raced at his words, not knowing what he meant, looking at the ceiling as if it would whisper the answer to you, whisper the meaning of this whole act towards you, but your body jerked out of its trance when you felt his tongue running from the middle of your chest and downwards, tasting your sweat. 

Your back arched as you held a moan in, trying not to bite onto your bottom lip when he pressed the tip of his tongue onto your belly. He was closer to where you had been wanting him the most for so long. You should stop this, but can you? Do you even have the willpower to do that? The answer was simple when you felt like puking at the idea of stopping him at all.

You felt his breath hit your pussy, your ripped thong still dangling on your right inner thigh. You shivered since the air made the wetness become cold, and you put your hands on your chest, not knowing where to place them. You heard him inhale deeply, a low rumble being heard from him.

“You smell so delicious… so fucking good My Rose.” You whined at the name, wanting to tell him to call you Omega, just like he demanded you to call him Alpha. You needed to hear it again, for your own sanity before you became someone that does not know the word ‘dignity’.

“I–” You couldn’t even start talking that his hot tongue licked your slick off your inner right thigh first, and he moaned in pleasure. Your eyes widened at the feeling of it, but mostly at the sound that came out of him, and it prompted your pussy to clench and more slick to come out on a string and down towards the table below you, at the edge of it.

He licked your left inner thigh now, slurped on it and then sucked on your skin, taking your cold juices into his mouth. Your breath was stuttering at the feeling as your pussy clenched and clenched, and you wanted to yell at him, to please touch you, lick you, eat you, just anything–

And your eyes widened when he flattened his tongue all over your slit to take a long lick from it. It felt divine, you were finally in bliss as your body felt like it was in flames. It felt as if someone threw a bucket of cold water on you, but it was a temporary relief. Unbeknownst to you, your boss was trembling at the taste of you as his dick twitched in absolute need.

The resemblance of a purr could be heard in the room, not coming from you, but from him. His hands dug into your inner thighs, fingertips marking you as he stared at your pussy, his breathing becoming slightly erratic the more he looked at it. And then, he didn’t hold back.

He went in, starved, desperate, his lips circling around your aching clit and sucking on it as he kept your legs spread for him. You gasped at the feeling and finally let a moan escape your lips, but Eddie was not even listening. You could smell his scent becoming stronger than before, and you couldn’t help but purr at the notice of high arousal, of pleasure, and it was all because of one lick on your pussy.

His tongue started lapping in between your folds, running all over and slurping all the slick that just kept coming out of you. He was moaning into you as you arched your back at every flick to your clit. He was making the most obscene sounds against you and you were loving it. You felt him pull away from you, a growl of pleasure escaping him and you wanted to look down but you couldn’t use your elbows to push yourself up to do so.

“You taste so good. So fucking good. I’m addicted, I knew I would be, but jesus fuck–” His tongue went back on you, a moan leaving you as he licked your clit and sucked on it to create that amazing friction you ached for. What does he mean? What does he mean by ‘he knew’? Did he want to do this to you before? 

“Why– Why didn’t you ever–” You gasped when you felt his tongue sliding inside of you, your back arching towards the ceiling and the small of your back aching at the hardness of the desk below you. Your body was lit on absolute fire, burning you from inside out, not caring if you died in the process of it. It was almost unbearable.

He moaned loudly into you, his dick leaking precum each second that passed, twitching in need at the feel he has around his tongue. He wants to feel the fluttering of your walls that are on his tongue, around his cock. His nose rubbed against your clit as he shook his head a bit at you. He pulled away to run a finger over your slit, covering it in your juices.

“Look at it… So pretty for me. So ready to receive her Alpha.” Your pussy clenched on nothing at his praise, a purr vibrating in your throat as your hips moved against him, making the Alpha smirk in victory. “You want that, My rose? Want me to be your Alpha?”

You didn’t know if he was messing with you or not. How many times did he use this as his dirty talk when fucking Steve? Carol? Heather? How many times did he say these things to them? How many times have they fallen for this trick? 

“Don’t– Don’t play with me.” A warning snarl was sent your way and your back arched as he roughly introduced his middle finger inside of you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“I’m going to make you beg for my knot. I’m going to hear you screaming for me. I’ll make sure of this.” His finger twirled upwards as he started thrusting in and out of you in short yet striking movements. Your soft spot was rubbed on, over and over again, and the moans were coming out of your mouth without any self control.

Your mind started becoming fuzzy the more pleasure you felt, the more slick that came out of you, and the more he moaned against you at each flick of his tongue on your clit. You didn’t want to comply with his orders, but you couldn’t fight your omegan instinct much longer. 

“Oh– fuck!” You yelled out as you felt his ring finger join his middle one, his tempo increasing as he sucked on your clit, and the gushing sounds of your juices could be heard around the room, mixing with your moans, with his groans, and the smell of pure arousal was intoxicating and just making the both of you feel as if you were high.

The coil in your belly started turning, wildly, and you knew you were going to have a strong one. The one person you consider ‘Your Alpha�� was touching you the way you’ve always wanted, and by him and him only. How could you not purr? Chirp? Moan loudly?

Your hands went down to grab onto his hair, who had the bun already a bit messy from his movements, and even with your wrists tied, you managed to cling to him. He moaned into your pussy and your walls started clenching all around his fingers and that’s when you felt him add his index finger, your eyes widening at the stretch, but you felt a certain relief, like a wave of cold air washing over you.

“You need to be ready for my knot. C’mon Omega, cum around your Alpha’s fingers.” You moaned when he called himself your Alpha. As if it were true. As if he truly was just yours and for a moment you believed him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, the loud squelching of juices even more depraved than before.

“Ed–Ed–” You stuttered out in between moans only to receive a growl in response and then you yelped as pain and pleasure mixed as he bit your clit, and even if it was gentle, it was still a sensible area. It was a warning, a threat to comply with his previous order.

“Say it.” And he twisted his fingers upwards as he made short thrusts yet quick and you felt your belly about to explode, your fingers digging into his hair as you pushed his head into you. Your knees were now bent, and you saw them tremble on the sides of his head. Your body started to shake as your mouth fell open and your eyes started going to the back of your head.

“A–Alpha!” Your orgasm crashed on you like a train, shaking you all over, short circuiting your brain and leaving you gasping for air as stars filled your vision. Eddie only cursed under his breath as his mouth latched onto your clit to help you ride your orgasm out, your pussy clenching around his fingers like a vice, and your slick was just running down, dripping from you.

He moaned at the taste of your orgasm, different to your normal slick. It was sweeter, tastier, and more intoxicating. Your grip loosened once you felt yourself stop trembling wildly, your walls unclenching from around his fingers as you slowly came down from your climax. Your breathing was heavy, feeling drained from how hard your orgasm was just now. You called him Alpha. You gave in. 

Your eyes were closed as you felt him leave your clit, and slowly pulled his fingers out from you, making an involuntary whine escape your throat at the loss of him. You felt defeated. You gave him what you didn’t want to give to someone who only sees you as one more notch in his belt. Another Omega he knotted. 

Your nose scrunched up as the air around you smelled way too intense, so much that you felt it prickle your nose. You couldn’t quite identify what it could be, but you felt like the appropriate word would be, desperation. Your eyes opened and you saw Eddie looking down at you, your slick all over his mouth, his fangs enlarged, his pupils blown out, and–

Your eyes widened as realization hit you. You were in the presence of an Alpha that had a triggered semi-rut. Your eyes went down to his still exposed pelvis, and his dick was larger, and just purely red and pulsing with need. Precum just oozed out from the tip and dripped down the shaft, and it was all for you.

And your mind was gone.

“A– Alpha…” You whimpered as your hivemind took over. Your irises were gone from how wide your pupils were, and your slick was overflowing the edge of the desk and falling onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. You raised your knees towards your chest, letting you show off your pussy to him, presenting yourself in a semi mating press. 

He licked his lips as he looked down at you, his chest moving up and down as he hissed through his teeth. Your Alpha, for some reason, you felt like he was fighting against something. It felt as if he was trying to fight off the rut. But you didn’t want him to. Maybe he knots you, and breeds you, hopefully. You want a pup with him, a pup from your scent mate, yes.

“Please, Alpha, my Alpha…” You begged and that was enough for Eddie to come out of his trance, his hands moving to the back of your knees for support as he moved his hips forward, and his cock ran over your slicked folds, making you moan desperately as you salivated in your mouth. “More, more, more–”

“Yes my Omega. My beautiful Omega… My Rose, your Alpha will give you more. Always.” His tip caught on your entrance and you gasped and you showed your Alpha your wrists, begging for him to take them off so your hands could touch him properly.

“I need to touch you, please, I’ll be good, I promise!” He immediately worked on the tie, yanking it off, probably ripping it apart in the process, and your hands shot up, trying to unbutton his shirt, whining with need to see, touch, feel his skin. His hands grabbed onto the collar of his shirt and he pulled, the buttons snapping and the shirt was ripped open, a breath of relief leaving his lips.

Your eyes scanned the tattooed chest, just a few tattoos here and there, scars that littered all over his stomach as well. You could hear your heartbeat into your ears, your body setting on fire at the sight of the layer of sweat covering his skin. Your hands, now with painful markings around their wrists but you could care less about that now, went forward to touch his stomach.

Fingernails scratched onto the flesh as another thrust of his hips made the tip enter you for just a second, a desperate whimper leaving your lips as you looked up at him with a pleading look. Why isn’t your Alpha taking you? Does he not want you? Are you not as pretty as the others? Your belly cramped, making you clench your eyes as pain shot towards your entire body.

“She didn’t knot you, didn’t she?” Your eyes shot open at the question and you looked at the man towering over you as his grip tightened underneath your knees. You wanted to tell him the truth, comply, but you were also feeling betrayed, used, and played with.

“D-Did you knot them?” Your voice was small and shaky, knowing you weren’t in the position to question the Alpha. You were in a vulnerable state, completely open for the kill. 

And with a loud growl, the biggest one you heard him give yet, he seethed himself inside of you in one powerful thrust.

You threw your head back as you shrieked at the sudden stretch, at the sudden pressure and the pain. It wasn’t great, but it was still painful, yet, your cramps stopped, just a little bit. They stopped stinging like knives, leaving a pain that can only be calmed by a knot. His knot. Tears ran down your cheeks as you gasped for air, your mouth open while you stared at the ceiling, and he bottomed inside of you, inch by inch.

He was big, the biggest you’ve ever had and it felt good, yet painful even with the foreplay. You pissed him off with your response, and you knew it because you could still hear him growling inside of his chest, groaning at the feel of you around him. 

His pelvis clashed against yours and you guided one of your hands towards your belly and you could swear you could feel him when you pressed. He was too deep inside of you and– and– you needed him to move. He needs to move. Your cramps are coming back as well as the cloudiness of your mind.

“P-Please Alpha, move–”

“I won’t move until you tell me.” His voice came out through his teeth as he looked down at you. More tears ran down your eyes as you tried to move your hips against him and he snarled at you in warning. “Tell me!”

“She didn’t! I couldn’t! The only– The only knot I want is–” And a sob ripped out of you as you looked at the man above you. It wasn’t fair, to be in this state and having no control, and knowing that after this, it would be forgotten, a fling of the moment because his ego got smashed.

“Is mine. The only knot you want is mine… And it’s the only one you’ll ever get from now on.” And his hips reeled back, only to slam themselves against you once again, making you choke up on a moan, your breath being knocked out of you instantly, the tip of his cock hitting the deepest part inside of you.

He felt divine, the burning of the first thrust slowly dissipating the more he moved his hips, going in and out of you as you adjusted to his size. The cramps were obscured by the waves of pleasure that your body started to feel, your limbs becoming limp for him to maneuver however he liked.

His fingertips were bruising your skin and his eyes were fixed where the two of you were connecting over and over again, and he grunted in pleasure at the sight, seeing himself disappear inside you, filling you up and feeling your cunt squeezing him, friction burning him from head to toes.

“Ah–” You gasped into your moan as he straightened up to pick up the pace, pulling his cock all the way out, leaving the tip inside, only to then go back in at a steady pace. Your hands flew to the edges on each side of the desk, trying to ground yourself as your mind reeled, your Omegan pheromones only making the Alpha in the room even more feral.

“So good, fuck, you feel so good baby. So, so, so fucking good.” He hissed out, his eyebrows meeting in the middle, a strained look on his face as his jaw clenched, still looking down at his cock going into your pussy, and he could see how your slick overflowed all around him.

You chirped at the praise as you bounced on the desk at each hit of his hips against yours, moans coming out of both your mouths and your rationality shut off once more as another cramp suddenly hit your belly. You weren’t being satisfied. Your needs were not being met and you were becoming restless.

“M-More…” You whimpered and he only tsked as he kept the same pace, not relenting to your begging.

“More what?” He knew exactly what you wanted, and he was playing with you. Tears of exasperation filled your eyes as you moved your hips in retaliation, making him hiss at you from the sudden action.

“More please? Please Alpha… I need– Faster, rougher– It hurts, it hurts–” And you were referring to that in so many ways. How your cramps hurt right now because your body needs and requires his knot, or how your whole soul hurt these past months knowing he never chose you for this before. He chose others, right in your face.

“Anything for my dumb little omega.” You didn’t know why he was insulting you, but you had no time to think. Your eyes widened as you gasped, followed by pleased mewls and loud moans as his hips started snapping against yours, the slapping on skin bouncing on every wall and bookcase, echoing thanks to the tall ceiling above you.

You now realize why he made everyone leave the entire floor.

His pace was rough, deep and fast, fucking into you desperately and your fingernails dug into the wood of the edge’s of the desk as you felt your insides being basically rearranged by him. Your cramps were still there but getting his cock inside of you helped somewhat, the pleasure overpowering it at times. You were loud, crying your moans out, your breaths, your huffs, and the yelling of his name.

His eyes were fixated now on your body, how it moved up and down thanks to his movements, your tear stained face, your open mouth that only let out filthy sounds, mumbling his name on the low in the haze of it all. You felt yourself start to flutter around his dick, the abuse against your g-spot making it an easy climax from the overstimulation. New tears prickled your eyes as your body jerked at every thrust, your belly coiling up, causing another cramp to happen. You whined loudly as your hips started meeting with his thrusts, desperately.

“Please, please, Eddie, my Alpha, more–” You were begging, pleading, imploring him to help you, because you were feeling good, but you weren’t at the same time because you needed more, your body still unsatisfied. You knew what it wanted, and it wasn’t just his knot. You wanted his bite.

“Tell me what you want.” You mewled as his thrusts turned deep, his hips coming to a slower pace and he circled them against you. You didn’t want to tell him, it is too embarrassing, knowing he is only doing this just for lust, and that he has done it with the rest, many times. Suddenly, a cry tore out from your mouth and you looked at Eddie with his teeth biting into your right calf. Your body jerked at the sudden bite, and your hands flew in reflex to try to grab him, but you weren’t strong enough to push yourself up and towards him.

“It hurts– Stop–” He growled as he pulled away from your skin, blood at the corner of his mouth, teeth glistening with a crimson hue. You looked at the bite, at his mark in your flesh and you chirped at the sight, wanting the same mark around your mating gland. It looked so pretty, so perfect, and it felt like you were owned. He hissed at you and his hips came to a halt, bottoming out inside of you. 

“Tell me what you want. I won’t continue until you tell me.” His jaw was clenched, the vein on his neck popping out from how much he was holding himself back from continuing your very destruction. You whined once more as you felt the burning of his bite on your calf, a drop of blood oozing out.

“I– I can’t– Not when you knotted… the others– embarrassing, Alpha, it’s embarrassing–” You were sobbing now, the pain from the past six months rushing back to you in a wave, clashing against the happiness you feel now, making you a bit dizzy from the mix of emotions. 

You heard him sigh and you dared to look at him through your tears, and he was looking down at you with a pained look. Why is he looking at you like that? Maybe it’s pity? Or maybe he feels sorry for how dumb you are? How naive? Or maybe–

“Oh my Omega… I have never knotted any of them.”

Your eyes fully opened at that, your heart thrumming in your chest as your body shook with excitement against your own will. What did he say? You saw his tongue darting out, his hand caressing your calf gently and pushing it towards his mouth so he can lick the wound clean. He side eyed you as he did this action, making your pussy clench around him, making the both of you hiss, remembering the position you are in.

“But– But I heard–”

“And I never complied.” He took his hands off your calf and the back of your left knee to lean forward. Your breathing was erratic, your hands immediately flying to hold onto his shoulders to pull him closer. His hands caged you in, one on each side of your head as he looked down at you. “-- I couldn’t comply.”

You blinked with confusion and doubt in your eyes. You wanted to believe him, you really wanted to, but– 

“Why?” Was the question flying out of your mouth and he leaned down towards you, his lips finding purchase on yours and you could only purr out of instinct, your heart exploding with happiness and joy inside your chest, trying to take the spotlight off of the thunder raging in your head.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your legs around his waist, pushing him into you. You both groaned at the action, making him pull away from the soft peck, his pupils back to being completely dilated and you moaned as his cock twitched inside of you. A growl escaped him as he quickly wrapped his arms around your frame and lifted you off the desk, a gasp leaving your lips and your grip tightened all around him.

You knew his instincts kicked in again, his mind clouded once more, but the knowledge that he never knotted the others was starting to settle in your head, and it was slowly making you go back to that state of mind where the only thing that mattered was being bred and knotted by the Alpha that was holding you tightly in his arms.

You felt yourself being lowered and the carpet hit your back, your eyes finding the ceiling once again. His hands grabbed onto your knees and he pulled them away from himself, making you untangle your legs from his waist. He bared his teeth at you as you didn’t let go of his shoulders, and you quickly complied, submitting yourself to him.

“Good Omega. My Omega.” He suddenly pulled out from you as he kneeled back and you whined with a sob, lifting yourself with help of your elbows to look at him.

“NO! Alpha, please, I need your knot, please– Why are you doing this? I–” His hand pressed against your chest and pushed you back down, snarling at you to let him work. You gasped when he grabbed onto your knees, keeping them apart, but then roughly pushing them up towards your chest, and you felt your hips rising from the ground, bending your body slightly.

His knees were now on each side of your hips as he leaned forward, towering over your frame, his cock twitching and your eyes could see the base of his cock pulsating, ready for his knot to pop. You purred and salivated at it, wanting it, desiring it, needing it and then you realized–

You were put in a mating press.

His cock went in with one harsh thrust, and you swear you could feel him at the back of your throat as you threw your head back. Your hands grabbed onto the carpet below you for some grounding, but you only let yourself smile in pleasure, in bliss, as you felt him burn inside of you. 

His knuckles were white from how hard his grip was on your knees to keep you in that position. A position that helps with fecundation. He groaned loudly when you clenched around him, your climax coming back to you as if it had never left moments ago. Your belly ached, cramped, turned, but most of all, it burned. It was burning you with the need of release, the need to be filled, the need of him.

His thrusts started quick and powerful, knocking the breath out of you at each jerk, the carpet burning your back as you rubbed it back and forth. You couldn’t care less. Not the burn of the back or the pain of your wrists or the bite on your calf. He could hurt you, bend you, break you, and you would be fine with all of that. At least, you mean something to him that way. Something different than the rest.

“Mine. Mine. Mine. You’re fucking mine.” He growled, over and over again while he fucked into you like a madman, like an animal. He was sweating, your eyes following every drop, his hair clinging to the sides of his face, and he was the most beautiful person in this whole wide world. He is calling you his, maybe thanks to his small triggered rut, but you had no time to feel the pain of that realization yet.

“Alpha, it feels so good. Fill me up, please, pretty please–” You didn’t recognize your voice. Needy, dripping with lust and pleasure, and you don’t remember a single time you talked like this. Not even when you shared your heats with your ex. You never begged like this. This is what a scent mate does to someone. It turns you fucking stupid.

The slapping of skin was filthy, wet sounds following them because your slick was being produced at each thrust of his. It was probably a mess, and you know it because you turned your head to see the edge of the desk you laid on moments ago, and the side had your slick dripping down in a single streak towards the floor, and a small pool of it formed at the foot of the desk. 

His thighs were drenched in you, and you moaned loudly at the thought, your eyes returning to meet his. He moaned your name under his breath and you trembled at the sound of it. He called you by your name, not rose, not omega. Your name. It made your belly come closer and closer to the edge, pussy fluttering and clenching all around him as he continued his powerful thrusts.

Your vision became blurry as tears mixed with how cockdrunk you became, but you could see a thin silver necklace dangling from his neck, back and forth. Your nails dug into the carpet underneath you as your breath picked up a pace, feeling the coil in your stomach and belly turn wildly, your orgasm threatening you to explode at any second. 

“Alpha– Alpha– I’m–” And he grunted as your eyes widened with a surprised gasp when you felt the beginning of his knot start to hit your entrance. You could feel it popping in and then back out, his teeth bared and he finally looked at you, a yellow glint flashing in his eyes as he stared down at you.

“I’m going to knot you. I’m going to knot you and breed you, over and over and over again… And I’m going to mate you.” You didn’t know if you were making it up, you didn’t know anymore. It sounded way too good to be true– “Oh, you don’t believe me?” 

Your eyes widened, shock washing over you as you tried to talk, only for loud cries to escape your lips when his thrusts became hard, rough, and the knot started swelling more and more, making it a little painful when it started popping in and out of you. Your mind was a haze, the only need being his knot. His knot. His knot.

“Alph–” You couldn’t talk because of this position, which was a bit straining, and the air was just simply knocked out of you at each thrust. You couldn’t breathe properly, feeling as if you were going to pass out. His teeth were now bared, fangs just slightly enlarged, snarling as he huffed in pleasure.

“You’re mine. All mine. Forever mine, my omega.” Your pussy clenched at the words, your mind no longer your own, and you cried out as your climax finally hit you, tightening all around his cock and now, his knot swelling instantly, impossible to pull out without hurting you, so he braced himself on his knees to push deep into you, and then he moaned loudly as his breath trembled when he locked himself inside of you, his cum filling your belly.

Your pussy milked him as your cramps finally stopped, leaving you in the stars. Your trembling was intense as you felt him spill inside of you and the more you clenched, the more cum he let out. It was never ending, the both of you moaning, groaning, and purring. He moved his hips once, a whimper leaving your lips and a growl rumbling in his chest.

He let go of your knees, his breathing heavy, his nostrils flaring as he leaned forward, his upper body bending as one hand cradles the back of your head, while the other holds your left bicep. His eyes clashed with yours, breaths intertwining between the two of you, chests heaving as the scents inside the room made your head spin.

He leaned down and you felt him lick the scent gland on your neck, his cock twitching inside of you and you swore you could feel more cum leaking out from him. You groaned, your eyes closing as he tasted you. His chest rumbled as he pressed his own scent gland against yours, true to his word. He cleansed the other alpha’s smell from you, replacing it with his own. He then proceeded to scent your mating gland, which only broke you.

He marked you in ways he probably doesn’t understand. After this, the two of you will go back to boss and secretary. You will have to leave, leaving this, leaving him behind you. Turn him into your past. You will probably have to go to an omegan therapist after this, and you would also leave Robin–

And the world stopped.

Everything. The universe. The stars. Your own breath. Your heart. Time itself. What…?

And then, fire. Fire spreading all over you coming from your mating gland. Your mating gland that was suddenly bitten into by the alpha that had his knot deep inside of you. You were bitten. He bit you. He claimed you. You were now his. 

A scream ripped out from your chest as another orgasm came crashing out of nowhere, clenching around him like a vice, milking him even more. He moaned into your skin, the hand on the back of your head holding you tightly as you shook underneath him. You didn’t understand anything. He was telling the truth. Eddie… Your– Your Alpha. He was your alpha now. For real.

He pulled away from you with a gasp for air, your blood all over his lips and teeth. You could feel his pleasure. His joy. His desire. His fear. His nervousness. His ecstasy. His delightfulness. Everything. He pressed a soft kiss on your lips, your shock still apparent, even if the kiss sent a million jolts of electricity through your body.

He pulled away with a chuckle and he proceeded to lean down again, pushing your head into his own mating gland this time. Your eyes were lost as you wondered what he wanted, his smell slowly bringing you down to earth once more, time moving again, the stars and the universe continuing their course.

“Bite me. Bite me back Omega.” Surprise was displayed on your features as soon as he said those words. It wasn’t common for omegas to bite their alphas back to seal the bond, the mating process, but people say it’s for the bond to be permanent, for eternity, for the mates to find eachother in this time and the next.

Your hands went towards his back, your nails dragging across his shirt, he never took it off. You could feel how damp it was thanks to the sweat, clinging to his body, and now– your eyes filled with tears, knowing now that he also knew you were his scent mate. This was never one sided. You have a lot of questions to ask him, but now… right now–

Your small fangs pierced through his mating gland.

He gave a small whimper as you felt iron filling your mouth. His blood. His scent. He was now all over you, and inside of you, in every sense and way possible. You moaned at his taste when you felt him twitch inside of you once more, his knot pulsing. You couldn’t believe it. As you retreated your mouth from him and laid your head back down on the carpet, you finally smiled.

He looked down at you, and you knew he was hoping you weren’t mad at him. He took your liberty and freedom in a single night thanks to his jealousy. To his possessiveness. To his fear of losing you. Your right hand moved towards his face, caressing his cheek gently, and he gave you a reassuring smile, closing his eyes, leaning towards your touch.

This is the first time you saw him like this. Vulnerable. A true smile of happiness on his lips, and it was all because of you. How could you be mad at him when he gave you what you’ve been wanting for the past six months you’ve known him? Something you didn’t think was possible, or that it was just in your head, or it was simply one sided? No… You could never be mad at him for it.

“My Alpha…” You whispered, your breaths starting to slow down as exhaustion started to wash over you, knowing your body will ache the following day, but you couldn’t care less. His eyes opened again, and he leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips, a huff escaping his nose in pure delight. He pulled away a second later, his right hand caressing the side of your face, wiping your tears away. Tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your eyes.

“My Omega… Mine only… so dumb for not realizing what I was trying to say…” Your eyes closed as a satisfied sigh escaped your lips, relief washing over you. His hand kept caressing your face, his soft lips pressing on your forehead, your cheek, tender and caring. Keeping you safe in his arms, his embrace being your safest nest, at least for tonight.

“Eddie…” You mumbled as your consciousness started to slip away as slumber started to overtake you. You heard your name being called out by him after a soft kiss was pressed against your forehead. Your heart now filled with joy, your mating gland ablaze, but you could not feel the pain. 

“Rest darling… I’ll keep you safe.” 

And then, darkness.

His back was against the headboard of the bed hidden inside his office. He just had to press a button and a bookcase would fall down to reveal itself as a king sized mattress. He held his cellphone on his left hand, calling on Chrissy while his right arm was around your sleeping frame, completely knocked out as you laid on your side, your head on his chest and right hand over his heart. 

Once he knew his knot had deflated, he got you both in a more comfortable position. He will have to explain himself to you but now, he had to–

“Tell me you didn’t boss.” Chrissy’s voice blasted in his ear, making him hiss and pull the phone away from him. His fingers were softly brushing your back, keeping you asleep.

“It is done.” His voice was low as he looked down at you, your breaths coming out from your mouth evenly and calm. A soft smile appeared on his lips, feeling the wound of your bite pulsing and burning on his shoulder, but it only made him happier. He heard Chrissy letting out an exasperated sigh on the other side of the phone, making his smile fall and look out the window.

“We haven’t solved the issue with the Hagans. You had to wait until that was finished! They will now know about your mate and target her!” His jaw clenched as his arm tightened around your frame, making you whimper slightly at the tightness but not in pain, just a sound in your sleep. 

“I won’t let them touch her, you know that.” Chrissy sighed once more. He knew his right hand was right, but he couldn’t– “Chris, I couldn’t let her slip away from me. She is my scent mate. It was going to happen sooner or later, and the other omegas were not a useful distraction any longer.”

“I know Eddie…” There was a moment of silence before Chrissy continued talking, “but it doesn’t take away the fact that she will be targeted from now on. Something you were trying to avoid all this while by keeping your distance… So, what now?”

And Eddie pondered. He looked out the window as his mind worked, the need to protect you now ten times bigger, may he say twenty thanks to the bond. You two are mated for life now. In this life and the next, and the next, and he has to protect you with everything that he is, even if his own life is at risk.

“Then I guess I have to kill Tommy once and for all and take the clan for myself.” Chrissy remained silent on the other side. It wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. He was going to do it peacefully, but Tommy was not a bright or reasonable leader. He was never happy about Eddie’s negotiations, always threatening him and his group, and Eddie knows he will threaten your life in order to get what he wants.

So he prefers to have Tommy’s head in his hands than wait for him to do something stupid.

“Alright… It’s settled.” He hears a rustling of papers, knowing she is taking down notes. He feels you stir slightly, but you just fixed your head on his chest, letting out a soft sigh as you kept sleeping. “And then?”

Eddie frowned in thought and looked down at your frame. A smirk spread on his face as he looked all over your body, his eyes resting over your waist, seeing your belly from the side.

“Get me a house. Somewhere residential, private, secure.” His voice was imperative, and he knew Chrissy was going to comply with no questions asked.

“Alright. How many rooms?” And his lips pressed on the top of your head as a smile spread on his lips, almost wickedly so.

“Let’s start… with four.”

End

a/n: time to get bred ig, hope u enjoyed, don't forget to leave a reblog, a comment on the reblog doesn't hurt either pretty pls

[eddiesdaydream]

Eyes don't lie ⭐︎ S.H

⭐︎ Summary: Nancy got everything she wanted but at what cost? Her eyes won't leave you, her hands crave to touch you, she finds herself in daydreams with you, wondering what it would be like to kiss you, to feel your lips on hers instead of his -- the girl Steve left for her.

And Steve, he is still haunted by what he threw away for a girl he could never love the way he loved... loves you. And while they are longing for something, chasing for someone that they both broke, you are only out for one thing, revenge.

⭐︎ Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x fem!reader | Steve Harrington x fem!reader | mentions of Eddie Munson x fem!reader and Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

⭐︎ Warnings: cheating, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of breakups, previous steve x reader, stancy, angst, this is some unhinged au of I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss (iykyk). they're all in college (in Hawkins), mentions of affairs, no happy ending... yet? no smut yet, but it's coming I promise

⭐︎ Author's note: This was supposed to be a oneshot but after talking to @hellfire--cult (as always, my hero) we came up with more filth and this will definitely be getting a part two so buckle up hehe. Also thank you for choosing the title bby!!!

Also this took me way too long to post but I lost inspiration AND now I got it back and I can't wait to get started on part two!

Nancy could not focus on anything Professor Harris was saying, she couldn't care less about the numbers he was writing on the board, her mind was elsewhere and her eyes too, no longer focused on the green board or the young Professor that all the girls were lusting over as they sat there in their short skirts, twirling their hair and blinking at him cutely. 

While everyone was focused on him, her attention was fully on someone it should not be on, but no matter how many times she tried to look away, her eyes would always find their way back to you, tracing every inch of you, from your hair to your face, from your nose down to your lips, from your neck to your chest and then down to your exposed legs, skirt riding up on your thighs, skin glowing softly. 

Your eyelashes kiss the skin beneath your eyes every time you blink, your tongue traces your bottom lip before you bite down on it in concentration, your hair falls over your shoulder, locket nestled perfectly in your cleavage. 

She can smell your perfume from here, every time you pass by her, she gets a whiff of it and it causes goosebumps to rise up on her skin. 

Something in her belly stirs every time she sees you and it's nothing new, it happened the very first time she laid her eyes on you but back then you were always in the presence of the guy she now calls her boyfriend and back then, things were different, so very different. She thought that it was jealousy that she was feeling every time she saw you two together, she could not stop watching you both, but she placed her focus on the wrong person, she wanted the wrong person, she went after the wrong person.

Nancy was horrible for what she did,  and she knew it from the moment she started chasing Steve Harrington when he was still yours and it got even worse when she stole him from you. 

She killed the light in your eyes, she caused the sadness that found home in you, she took away your happiness and for what? Her eyes still follow you, her stomach still tingles and burns when she sees you talking to someone who stares at you a little too intensely, who looks at you the way he once did every time he pulled away from your lips and she can’t understand why, she refuses to let herself see why. 

Regret resides in her, it’s gnawing at her, making her sick on the inside for what she did to you and the feeling only intensifies when he kisses her – she blames the guilt that settled into her body, for making her obsessed with you, for making her unable to look away from you or search for you in the crowd. 

She isn’t the only one, she can see the way he still looks at you, she can see the longing gazes between you both, the way he stops listening to her every time his hazel eyes find you, the way his lips curl into a smile before it becomes a sad one when he stares for too long. She knows that he thinks about you, she knows that he imagines you when he is inside of her, she knows it when he buries his face in the crook of her neck, refusing to look at her, holding her tighter and moaning louder, though biting his lip just so he won’t say your name when he comes undone. 

Steve Harrington may be her boyfriend now but he doesn’t belong to her and she knows it, he is still yours, he always will be. 

And a part of her, doesn’t give a damn fuck – she just can’t see it yet, she refuses to. 

It’s been weeks, months, since he had left you for her and not a single day goes by when she doesn’t wonder why he did it. 

She compares herself to you and her mind can’t comprehend why someone would leave you, why someone like Steve would leave you for her. 

Sometimes when she can’t sleep at night, she thinks about you, about you with Steve, about what you looked like underneath him, how your face contorted into pleasure when he unraveled you with his tongue, how his large palm would press down on your lower stomach to keep you from squirming away from him, how you tugged at his hair, desperate and needy, grinding your sopping pussy against his face before he pounded you into the mattress, kissing and biting your skin, covering you in love bites, making you moan and whimper in need as your boobs bounced while he pleasured you, balls deep inside of you, cock filling you up so perfectly that it made you cry and drool all over the pillow beneath you – by the end of each fantasy that haunted her, her stomach was burning and her thighs were clenched together. It was because of him, it was because of Steve, she told herself but it was a lie, he was there, but he wasn’t who her mind focused on, it never was. 

“Cunningham might chew your head off if you keep staring at her girl,” Barb whispers into her best friend’s ear, making Nancy frown at her words. She turns around, catching the blonde cheerleader glaring at her but she isn’t the reason for her frown. “Her girl?” Nancy asks as she looks away from Chrissy with an eye roll.

Barb chuckles, shaking her head as she starts to gather her books, “come on, everybody knows that Chrissy has a crush on her, she follows her around like some lovesick puppy.”

The feeling in Nancy’s chest tightens, the pit in her belly growing as a snarl makes its way on her face. 

“Right.”

Nancy never really paid attention to Chrissy or the way she looks at you but now that Barb mentions it, she sees it too, especially when the cheerleader grabs your hand and drags you out of the classroom once the lesson is over, a possessive look in her eyes that is directed at no one but Nancy. 

“You never saw it?” Barb chuckles, rising up from her seat, she grabs her coffee that she’s been sipping on all afternoon, holding the paper cup against her chest. 

Nancy shrugs, pretending not to care even though that thought is starting to take up every space in her mind. 

“Well, pay attention tonight, wait – you’re still going to Tina’s party, right?” 

“Yeah, it’s all Steve has been talking about,” Nancy grumbles, clearly not impressed by it or him. 

There is only one reason she will go to the party and it isn’t him. 

To… get drunk, yeah, just to get drunk, nothing more or less, only that. 

Not to observe and obsess over a certain someone. 

-

But it’s not what she ends up doing, not even in the slightest, she downs one drink and that’s all, she can’t even feel the alcohol in her system but she gets drunk on the way he looks at you as sick as it sounds, something within her burns deeply whenever she catches him, the fire only grows bigger when she sees the way you look at him, burning bright red whenever your eyes lock and Steve tenses up beside her – she knows all too well why he tenses up the way he does, why his knuckles are white as he holds his cup of beer tightly, why his brows are furrowed so strongly, why there is a scowl on his face. 

You are on the dancefloor, hands in your hair, a lazy smile on your lips, cheeks burning from the heat of the room and from your dancing, a skimpy little dress being the only thing keeping certain parts of you hidden, the glittery material keeps riding up on your thighs, dangerously high but not enough to expose your ass. You are moving your hips so smoothly, so effortlessly, your skin looks so soft and kissable beneath the string of lights above the room, you know how to move your body, how to put on a show, how to steal the spotlight in the room, how to make everything and everyone around you disappear – everyone except for Billy Hargrove who is snug behind you, hands on your waist, chest pressed against your back as his lips are dangerously close to your neck, ready to kiss and bite, ready to mark you up.

Nancy swallows harshly as she watches you, cheeks burning, chest rising up and down heavily, she licks her bottom lip as her eyes catch Billy’s hands moving to your front, palm pressed against your lower stomach to press you tighter against himself. She squints her eyes, nose scrunching in displeasure when you press your own hand over the larger one on your body. 

Steve scoffs under his breath, mumbling words that Nancy can’t make out in the loud room, she narrows her eyes at him, the red solo cup in his hand has dents in it, his eyes are dark, nearly black, his lips curled downwards as his focus is on nothing other than you and Billy. 

He is pissed and he is jealous, it’s written all over his face. 

Jealous over a girl he left, a girl he dumped – the girl he could never stop loving, the one he still craves and aches for. She knows it all, she always did. 

And now she can’t help but wonder why she doesn’t care, why there isn’t a single part inside of her that is filled with rage over seeing her boyfriend pine after his ex-girlfriend. Shouldn’t she be angry? Shouldn’t she feel hurt and jealous? Shouldn’t she feel possessive or even sad? 

She can’t feel any of those things when she looks at him – she doesn’t feel anything at all when she looks at him. Steve is a handsome guy, there is no doubt about that, he is one of the most good looking she has ever seen, from head to toe, he is gorgeous. His perfect hair, his soft hazel eyes, his lips – he is pretty, yeah, but his lips are rough and his hands are too, his skin not as soft as… the one of a girl. 

And when he talks of his future, she finds herself cringing, looking away to avoid the dreamy look in his honey eyes. Waves of nausea crash over her when he mentions marriage and kids, when he talks of a white picket fence and the RV he wants to explore the country with before going back to his small town life, with wife and kids. She hates it, it makes her sick. 

She looks up at him, arms crossed over her chest, bangs hanging in front of her eyes, her heart sinking into her stomach but not because of the way he is watching you, no, but because of the realization that dawned on her only now. 

Steve Harrington is her own personal nightmare. 

Steve Harrington is everything she never wanted. 

And he is only with her because of the summer they shared, the drunken nights, the giggles after smoking a joint together, the comfort he found in her while you were gone ‘doing god knows what with god knows who’ as he had said back then as though you would have ever done anything to hurt him, you worshiped the ground he walked in, the way he should have done for you too. 

You were in love with him and anyone could see it. 

She heard the rumors, the ones that drove him crazy, the ones that led him away from you and pushed him into her arms – well, not exactly, nothing happened between them until he officially broke up with you. But those rumors were only… rumors and yet, Steve believed in them, he believed Carol Perkins when she told him that you were seeing someone else while you were visiting your cousins in Chicago, that you were spending your nights in a dingy bars, admiring skilled fingers working on a red electric guitar, that your lips touched different ones, that your hands were too busy taking off his leather jacket instead of picking up the phone and calling him. 

He believed it with no evidence, he didn’t need it, his insecurities were enough to push him away from you – the sight before him only confirms the rumors of your sinful summer, though Billy isn’t the guy he was worried about during that time, he was always a problem, as well. 

He poured his heart out to the only who listened and that was Nancy, she comforted him with words, with alcohol and weed, nothing more, there was never a moment that could have led to anything more but her mind back then was wired differently than it is now – now she can’t understand how she misread between the lines so badly, how she mistaked platonic feelings for deeper ones, why she was so angry when you came back to college and to him, why the sight of you kissing your boyfriend filled her with so much rage. 

She was jealous. 

She was so jealous. 

But not because his lips touched yours but because yours touched his. 

It wasn’t a sight she had to endure for long because before she knew it, Steve slipped through your fingers after a big fight caused by the rumors he confronted you about, he didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself, didn’t allow you to tell him what had really happened that summer, he just dumped you, like it didn’t tear his own heart out, like he didn’t regret it the same moment he did it. He dumped you and then he left. He showed up at Nancy’s apartment, not caring about her weird roommate who gave him an odd look when he opened the door and stared at him for a good while, just watching the tears streaming down his cheeks before he called for Nancy, who held him through the night and kissed him in the morning, hoping for a taste of something she would only continue to dream about. 

Now they are here and they are together and they are more miserable than ever with each other.  

They are better off as friends and they both know it… deep down, at least. 

Your giggles break her out of her thoughts, she tears her eyes away from Steve and finds you walking into the room, completely ignoring her and his presence as you make your way over to the table filled with drinks and snacks, Billy close behind you, eyes heavy on your ass, bottom lip caught between his lips. 

Nancy rolls her eyes at him and Steve scoffs at the jock, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the blond.

“Harrington,” Billy smirks, nodding at him mockingly, “how’s it going?” He looks between him and Nancy, lifting his eyebrows at her but she only squints her eyes in response, glaring at him. 

“Peachy,” Steve replies with an unimpressed look on his face. 

You ignore the presence of the couple in the room, not paying attention to them or their interaction with Billy who won’t stop chasing you, especially after your dance with him – it was a mistake and you won’t make any bigger ones, not tonight. 

“Trouble in paradise?” Billy smirks, puffing his chest out as he takes a step closer to Steve, “you don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself,” he chuckles, looking Nancy up and down before his eyes flicker back to Steve’s, “either of you.”

“Why don’t you mind your own business, Hargrove?” Steve grumbles, eyes falling behind the figure in the back, taking in the sight of you so close to him now, the way your dress hugs your body, the way the strap of it falls down your arm and you don’t even bother to fix it, too fixated on the drink in your hand.

“Why don’t you lighten up a bit, hmm? Shouldn’t you be the life of the party, now that you’re with your ‘dream girl’?” 

Nancy nearly gags at the words of the blond. He always knows how to get under his skin and hers and she sees the way you tense up at Billy’s words, as much as you try to ignore the conversation in this room, you can’t unhear it. 

Steve tears his eyes away from you, looking into the blue ones before him, he takes a deep breath and unclenches his jaw, he opens his mouth to speak. 

“Hey guys, we’re playing truth or dare, wanna join?” Tina’s voice cuts him off, the brunette peeks her head inside the kitchen, looking between all of you with a curious spark in her eyes, a bit of mischief lingering in her eyes as well when she senses the tension. 

Steve rolls his eyes, scoffing in annoyance, “what are we fifteen–”

“I’m in.” 

All the attention is on you now, every pair of eyes in the room, staring straight at you as you stand there confidently, with a smirk on your lips, one that surely doesn’t match the look in your eyes as you are looking straight at your ex-boyfriend. 

“I feel like finding out some dirty truths.” You tilt your head to the side, sparing Nancy only a short look but one that leaves her swallowing harshly and blushing furiously. 

You hate her, she can see it in your eyes, you never fail to make it known either, not with words, but with all the glances and glares you direct at her whenever you catch her staring. 

Steve holds your gaze, intensely so. An unamused chuckle falls from his lips, “yeah, why don’t we uncover some dirty truths, Dolly?” He mocks you with the nickname from your childhood. “Let’s go, I’ve been dying to find out more about your summer.” 

If looks could kill then Steve Harrington would drop dead, right now. 

He never gave you a chance to explain yourself, he never even tried to talk to you about the rumors he had heard. When you came back, he pretended like everything was fine, he kissed you and held you, spent time with you, he was distant but he was still there… and then, he wasn’t. 

Nancy purses her lips, watching the way you slowly make your way towards Steve, ignoring Billy’s presence and hers as you halt before him, tilting your head to the side, you lick your lips as your eyes flicker between his eyes and his mouth. 

You are close, close enough to make her feel like she is floating, getting lost in the scent of your perfume, in the color of your eyes. Nancy isn’t sure if she had ever been this close to you before but something in her chest stirs when her eyes follow the way your lips curl downwards, the way your chest rises up and down, necklace stuck between your boobs, the softness of your skin. She digs her nails into her palms, fighting the thoughts in her mind. 

“Oh, now you want to talk?” You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, “we could’ve talked months ago but you were the one who just walked out on me after believing the shit Carol made up about me. I didn’t believe Tommy when he told me about your dirty little secret,” you mumble with nothing but hatred in your voice when you glance at Nancy. “But clearly I had every reason to believe him, unlike you, Harrington.” 

“Yeah, right.” Steve looks down, avoiding your eyes as he finds himself drowning in regret but also in denial. 

He had every reason to believe her, didn’t he? 

He remembers him, he remembers the metalhead that you befriended before he left his hometown to pursue his rockstar career, the same metalhead that Steve used to buy from, it was his fault that you had crossed paths with him anyway, he invited him into his home, you were there when he showed up to drop off the weed, Steve had asked for. The smirk that crossed Eddie’s face when he saw you skipping down the stairs in nothing but Steve’s shirt, should have worried him then already but it didn’t, not even when you invited Eddie in and he started showing up more frequently, not even when Steve was out of town, visiting his grandparents in Colorado, leaving you to spend spring break with your new friend. 

Only when he came back, did the sudden insecurity hit him, when he saw how close you and Eddie had gotten while he was away, when he saw the playful touches and heard the soft giggles, when he saw the sadness in your eyes when the metalhead left for Chicago after graduating high school. He got suspicious, he got insecure and it only worsened when you chose Chicago out of all places to spend your summer at — he knew you had family there but you never visited them before that, so why this summer? 

You never gave him a reason not to trust you but he was deeply insecure and scared that his fears would come true, that had pushed him into Nancy’s arms, the overthinking and the rumors that Carol had started about you and Eddie, the ones that already got around while the metalhead still lived here – Steve ignored them then but he couldn’t ignore them any longer when you left.

Steve felt sick to his stomach at the mere thought of what or who you could be doing, the thought that you had fallen out of love because of someone else made him feel blue, though your voice through the phone had sweetened his day and made him forget about what had previously made him cry but even that didn’t save him or your relationship that started to crumble without your knowledge. 

“What?” You scoff again, eyes glaring into his so intensely that it almost makes him shrink, “don’t act like you’re fucking innocent, we both know you aren’t.”

Nancy shifts on her feet, uncomfortably so, she glances at Tina who is still watching the interaction, amused and intrigued by it all, just like Billy. She rolls her eyes and looks back at you, a part of her wants to speak up, to defend Steve, tell you that nothing happened between them then but her words are caught in her throat. 

“Oh and you are?” Steve replies, taking a step closer to you, he looks down at you in anger, like his heart isn’t aching and yearning for you, like it’s easy for him to look down at you like you don’t mean a thing to him, like you aren’t still the girl that he would do anything for. “Don’t act like you weren’t messing around with the freak–”

“Don’t call him that,” you spit back, frowning at him. 

A dark chuckle falls from Steve’s lips, his eyes flicker with rage and jealousy. 

“Freak? That’s the first thing you’re going to address, not the fact that I just said that you were messing around–”

“I never did that.” 

At this moment, Nancy can’t tell whether you’re telling the truth or not, she was convinced that you weren’t messing around with Eddie Munson – she saw the way he looked at you, the way his eyes followed your every move, filled with softness and adoration, filled with lust. But she also saw the way you looked at Steve, you were devoted to him, only to him. 

Though Steve’s insecurities made her question you as well, especially now. 

“Yeah sure, you didn’t, Dolly,” Steve clenches his jaw. “You were just friends, hmm right.”

“Yeah, like you and Nancy,” you fight back, looking at him smugly, angrily. “You were just friends, right? When I came back to Hawkins, that’s all you were right? Just friends, huh? Funny how you dumped me shortly after you had befriended her.”

Her name fell from your lips and that’s all she could focus on, on the anger in your eyes that sparked something within her, that made her lick her lips. 

“I didn’t cheat if that’s what you’re saying,” Steve frowns, eyes lingering with disgust. 

“Of course you didn’t,” you chuckle in disbelief, “that’s why you had no problem getting into a new relationship only a day after breaking up with me, right?... I don’t know about you but I can’t imagine dating a friend, you do realize what it made you look like, right? A cheater, Steve, a goddamn cheater.” 

Steve swallows harshly, shoulders relaxing from the tension that resided in his body for the past minutes when he sees how glossy your eyes get, how pain is the only thing left in them, no ounce of anger showing anymore, only sadness and heartbreak that you had refused to show in these past months since he left. Seeing this, seeing through you, feels like a blow to his chest, something he refused to look at to avoid the regret is now right in front of him, on full display. 

You huff again, shaking your head as you take a step back and look between them, eyes meeting Nancy’s for a moment before you lower your head, glancing down at your drink, you bring it up to your lips and down the rest of it, you slam the empty cup on the counter and step back towards Steve, looking into the hazel eyes that you used to love so much, you pat his chest, “I wasn’t the one who left with no explanation, I wasn’t the one with the dirty secrets and I wasn’t the one who cheated and then accused you of doing it, asshole, so spare me your bullshit.” With one last glare, you step away from him and direct your gaze at the girl who can’t seem to tear her eyes away from you, you step towards her, unknowingly making her heart flutter, “I hope you can taste me when he’s kissing you.” 

You think that anger is what she feels from hearing your words but it’s not that at all, not even in the slightest. 

Her eyes follow you when you walk out of the room, brushing past Tina who looks like she is ready and excited to spread around what she just witnessed. The moment you are out in the hallway and making your way upstairs, she giggles loudly and runs off, making Steve roll his eyes. 

Nancy feels like something is pushing her, pushing her to walk the way you just did, to follow you upstairs, to talk to you… alone, to explain what had really happened this summer or these past few months. 

Billy’s laughter echoes through the room, a satisfied grin appearing on his face, one that Steve easily ignores, he slams his drink down next to your empty cup, not caring about spilling it. 

“I’m gonna get some fresh air,” he announces, sparing a poor glance at Nancy before he walks out of the room and out of the house, slamming the front door shut so loudly that it’s even heard over the music. 

“Sure,” Nancy mumbles when he is outside already, uninterested. Her mind is in a haze, body angling towards the stairs. Billy’s eyes are on her, intensely so, but she doesn’t bother to turn her head to look at him, her feet carry her out of the room before she can rethink the decision her mind had already made. She pushes past the people in the hallway, ignores the curious glances from Carol and Tommy. 

Her heart is pounding in her chest as she walks up the stairs, fingernails digging into her palms, she bites down on her lip nervously, letting her body move on its own accord. She doesn’t know where to look first, where to go but it's like something is leading her to her wanted destination. 

She finds you in one of the bedrooms, sitting at the end of bed with tears running down your cheeks, sniffles sounding through the quiet room, the lights from the hallway illuminating the dark room, you jump in surprise when you notice her in the doorway. 

“What the hell do you want?” 

Nancy sucks in a sharp breath, the guilt in her continuing to eat at her when she sees the pain in your glassy eyes before your expression hardens at the sight of her. You wipe your tears angrily and push yourself up, smoothing down your dress, you blink, trying to get rid of the tears. 

“I’m sorry I-I just wanted to–”

“What did you want?” You snap back, frowning in rage as you stalk towards her like she is your prey. “Did you want this room to yourself? Am I in your way? Oh, I’m sorry, let me just make space for you.” Your voice is sarcastic, your face angry but it does nothing to scare her or push her away from here. 

“No,” Nancy shakes her head, knowing all too well what you mean by those words. She sighs, “no, I just wanted to check up on you.” 

Her words are clearly something you weren’t expecting, because for a good moment, you’re dead silent, staring at her with confused eyes and parted lips — ones that Nancy can’t look away from. 

It would’ve been dead silent too if it wasn’t for the voices downstairs, for the loud music or the sound of laughter outside. 

“Check up on me!?” 

The anger on your face and in your voice should be enough of a reason for her to leave the room and avoid you, her brain is telling her that but her body… her body is telling her something entirely else. Somehow, you look even better with the fire behind your eyes, the burning gaze you look at her with, sets her lower stomach on fire, your skin looks even softer beneath this lightning, your lips look so… so kissable.

She can’t deny it any longer, not after months and months of observing and pining, even before she met Steve properly. It was never him that she looked at, it was never him that she wanted. 

“What? So you can laugh in my face and mock me? How you stole my boyfriend!?” 

Nancy shakes her head, “n-no, I’d never do that… I am… I’m sorry.”

You chuckle darkly but a hint of sadness is there too, she can’t even miss it. You roll your eyes at her and finally decide to step away, to leave this conversation that you never even wanted. But Nancy doesn’t even let you pass, in fact, she places herself in front of the door after slamming it shut, standing in your way with a stubborn look on her face. 

“What the— get out of my way, Wheeler.” 

“No.” Nancy shakes her head again, blue eyes burning into yours, cheeks glowing red. “I’m sorry, I really am, I-I know you hate me, I would too, what I did was… was messed up but I’m really, really sorry!” 

You can only stare in disbelief, blinking, you can feel your heart pounding and your chest hurting from it. 

You don’t need that, you don’t want that. 

You don’t want no apology, not from her and not from him. 

He betrayed you and he broke your heart, stomped on it like it was nothing, and then, he just moved on, right away, like you never meant anything to him, like he never loved you, like it was the easiest thing to just forget about you and date someone new. 

And Nancy, she never owed you anything, no loyalty or sympathy, but what she did still hurt, a lot. And her apology angers you in ways you can’t even describe with words. 

“Fuck you.” The way those words leave your lips followed by the venomous look in your eyes should make her feel intimidated, it should make her draw back and let you leave but instead, she feels any of what she should feel. Your anger makes her feel something she had never felt before, some sort of anticipation, a curiosity she never felt with any guy, not the cute guy from summer camp last year whose name she forgot, not Jerry Carlson who was the first ever to ask her out on a date, not Steve Harrington, no guy had ever made her feel the things that burn in her now, only you. 

Fuck. 

Only you. 

She can’t tear her eyes away from your lips any longer, she can’t fight the desire in her that calls your name, she can’t fight the urge to move closer to you and the way your eyes flicker to her lips, even if only for a second, gives her the push to take a step closer. 

You have to feel the tension too, right? 

The fire between you – maybe it’s only anger on your part but maybe, hopefully, it isn’t only that. 

Nancy’s heart starts pounding, she suddenly feels drunk, hazy. Her feet move on their own accord, her feelings act on their own, she no longer feels control over her own body. 

“You and Steve are unbelievable, you know that right?” You snap at her, flipping your hair over your shoulder, arrogantly. “He fucked me over and you helped. You both got what you wanted, you got each other, so why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone!?”

She doesn’t answer you. 

She doesn’t say anything. 

She just looks at you. 

Her eyes are almost unrecognizable, dark and barely blue, a wild look lingers in them as she stares at you like you’re her prey, like she’s about to eat you alive, maybe it should terrify you but it doesn’t, you are too angry to feel anything else. 

Nancy watches the way you roll your eyes like some goddamn brat and she is beginning to lose her patience with your attitude – she deserves it, she knows she does but her feelings overwhelm her and your bitchiness doesn’t help much. 

Enough of her silence, you move forward, about to push her aside so you can make your escape, you reach for the doorknob but freeze in your place when her hand wraps around your wrist and she gives you a stern look and it only angers you more, even when there is a small part of you that feels intrigued by the way she looks at you. 

“I swear to god, Nancy,” you sigh. 

There is guilt in her eyes, beneath the flames that linger and it irritates you so deeply. 

If she is burdened by guilt at this moment, then she must’ve been back then too and it only makes you wonder. 

“Why did you take him?” You ask, trying to hide the pain in your voice, trying to hide what you have been feeling for the past months. 

“I never wanted him.” 

Her own eyes widen after those words leave her lips, not out of shock but out of relief – the truth that’s been there all along, finally uncovered and revealed, not only to you but also to herself because a part of her didn’t want to see it, didn’t want to admit it, that it was you, that it was a girl whom she wanted. 

A gasp tears from your mouth and your eyes widen, hand falling from the doorknob you were holding onto so tightly, your heart lurches to your throat and something stirs within you. It takes you a long moment to realize what is happening, to realize what she is doing, to realize what she just confessed. 

You feel warmth, in your body, on your body, on your lips. You feel her hands cupping your cheeks, you taste her raspberry chapstick, the rum she must’ve had earlier, you feel the intensity radiating off her. 

She is kissing you. 

Nancy Wheeler is kissing you after confessing that it wasn’t him who she wanted. 

Your ex-boyfriend’s girl is kissing you like her life depends on it – lost in the kiss, she looks completely in bliss, with her eyes closed and her lips moving against yours passionately, softly in a way only a girl's lips can feel. 

She kisses you in a way no one else ever has before, with a kind of desperation and need that can only come from someone who has been longing for this moment for a long, long time and to your surprise it makes your stomach flutter but your confusion guides you, you raise your hands and press them against her shoulders, pushing her away from you with furrowed eyebrows and puffy lips. 

Your heart is racing, your thoughts are too. 

What the hell just happened?

Nancy slowly opens her eyes, cheeks flushed and eyes needy as they flicker back and forth between your eyes and your lips, like she’s hungry for you, like she yearns for you, like she needs and wants more. 

You open your mouth to speak but not a single word falls from your lips because what is there to say? You are confused, more than that you are irritated by the fact that the kiss made your stomach burn and your legs shaky, that it left you craving for another taste of the girl that stole your happiness but she looks at you like you’re… something special and it makes your heart flutter and it makes you angry because she is still Nancy Wheeler. She is still the girl who is the reason for all your hurt, she is the girl your Steve left you for. 

She blinks, lashes fluttering as her eyes soften, vulnerability crossing her face. 

“I wanted you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your face flusters at her confession. You don’t know what to think of it, of her. But that little voice in your head, that angry one that has been trying to take control over you these past few months is telling you to use this given opportunity to get back at him. 

She wants you. 

Steve’s girlfriend wants you. 

She looks at you like she is ready to drop everything and everyone for you. 

She is. 

Your eyes flicker to her lips, you can’t deny the fact that it felt good to feel them on yours and you can’t help but wonder what they would feel like in different places on your body. 

But you don’t know whether it’s the thrill, the curiosity or this opportunity that fell right into your hands. 

She wants you so very badly, you can see it in her blue eyes, the way she is practically begging for you to let her in, to let her have a taste, to let her have you, she is needy, not for Steve, no, not for him, for you, only for you. 

And who are you to pass up on an opportunity to have a good time and get your sweet revenge all at once? 

So after a lot of heavy breathing and contemplating, you break out of your trance and move forward, catching her by surprise this time, you grab her face and slam your lips against hers, earning a whimper from her the second you kiss her. 

Satisfaction rushes through you, numbing the anger and filling you with pleasure to know that this will ruin her. 

And him. 

Both of them. 

♡

tagging ppl who might be interested!!!

@thesickestqrmydcll @prettyboyeddiemunson @fanfic-fanatic-2024

[eddiesdaydream]

I don’t know if you do Steve or(I have mostly seen your Eddie work which I love by the way)Eddie

but I’m let you choose but ex reader and (Steve or Eddie) angst to fluffy smut at the end and maybe they saw each other at the bar or something and those feelings turn into sweet ole fluffy smut 🫡 ( PFT I don’t know if that make sense) 😭💀

Eddie exes-to-lovers? I'm in.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, fingering, angst, hurt/comfort, jealousy, the fluffiest smut I've ever written

WC: 3.2k

Divider credit to @saradika-graphics

You hated Eddie Munson. 

You hated the way he sloppily cut the sleeves of his Hellfire shirt in an obvious attempt to show off his tattoos. 

You hated the way he couldn’t keep a secret, always forgetting that they were supposed to be secrets in the first place. That’s how he’d spoiled your surprise birthday party. 

You hated the way he constantly sabotaged his own success. One would think he’d take you up on your offer to do homework together after his first failed senior year; instead, he’d practiced guitar riffs while you pored over your algebra textbook. Needless to say, he didn’t pass that year, either. 

You hated Eddie Munson and everything about him. 

And right now, you particularly hated the way he sat across the bar, talking to another girl and occasionally taking a sip of his drink. 

That used to be you, your fingers laced with his while he told you stories you’d heard one hundred times before. He’d bring your hand to his lips and kiss it, his lips curving into a smile before they even touched your skin. 

“I can’t believe you’re mine. Never gonna let you go, y’know that? You’re stuck with me forever.”

That ‘forever’ ended four years ago, when you went off to college and he needed to stay behind to finish high school. Cracks began showing as early as application season, the fracture complete once you decided to go to Northwestern without even considering Hawkins Community. 

“I don’t understand why you’d wanna go to that big, fancy school anyway. It’ll just be a bunch of rich preps and douchey frat guys guzzling beers through their assholes.”

You refrained from reminding him that he and Jeff had almost tried that same feat, and probably would have if you didn’t intervene. 

“Babe, it’s an amazing school. And I’ll be home on holidays and you can visit whenever you want.”

Even as you’d said it, you knew it wasn’t enough for him. It was a pulled thread in your tight-knit relationship, one that unraveled it throughout the summer. And just one week into your first semester, Eddie had uttered those dreaded words into the phone. 

“I don’t think this long-distance thing is gonna work out.”

That was that. The end of you and Eddie. 

Now, in that dimly lit bar, you tore your gaze from him and his date. Your drink shook in your trembling hand as you lifted it to your lips. 

Robin clocked your uneasiness, her eyes flicking over to where you’d been looking. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, shaking her head. She glanced at you with nothing but sympathy. “You wanna get outta here?”

You gave your friend a grateful smile, but ultimately declined. “We just got our drinks.” You gestured to her barely-sipped rum and Coke. “We can go once we’re done.”

The two of you forged ahead with a conversation, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Eddie and his date. Maybe it was the vodka making you more emotional, but tears pricked at your lash line when you saw him lean in and kiss her. 

“A-Actually, maybe we should leave.” You were only halfway done with your drink, but the thought of staying and continuing to watch him had you ready to hurl it all up. 

Robin nodded, grabbing her purse and closing out the tab. When she turned back to you, she froze. 

“What?”

“He’s looking at you.”

And dammit if your heart didn’t flip-flop. You did your best to ignore it, ignore the spark of hope it gave you. 

“He’s…” Your words caught in your throat. “C’mon, let’s just go.”

You couldn’t sleep that night. The image of Eddie holding someone else’s hand flashed through your mind every time you closed your eyes. And the way he’d leaned in to kiss her, like he’d done it one thousand times before—it gnawed at you from the inside out. 

Tears slid down your cheeks and seeped into your pillowcase. You would have gone to the ends of the Earth to make that relationship work, while Eddie threw in the towel after just one week. You’d called him up in the dorm’s common room, expecting to talk to him about your day. 

Instead, you’d gotten dumped via phone call. 

You gave up on falling asleep around 4:30 AM. Padding into the kitchen, you brewed yourself a cup of coffee and poured it into your favorite mug. Steam tickled your nose as you took a sip, savoring the cocoa notes and the bitterness you craved that morning. Last night’s events came rushing back as soon as the caffeine hit your bloodstream. Eddie. The girl. The way he looked at her…did he ever look at you that way? It was bizarre seeing it from a different perspective.

The morning air was already humid, summer’s heat seemingly always unrelenting. You stretched out your legs on the steps of your front stoop, letting your muscles unclench as you breathed in a new day. 

It was just you, a smattering of chirping birds, and…a car rumbling down the street?

Hawkins was not a busy enough town for people to be driving down your sleepy street at this hour, and it wasn’t garbage day.

From around the corner came a familiar van. Your heart lurched in your chest when it came to a stop in front of your house. No. There was no way. Someone else in town must have the same exact van as him…with the same exact dent in the driver’s side door from when he’d opened it into a tree…

You scrambled to your feet, coffee sloshing over the side of the mug and onto the cement below you. 

“Hey, wait!” Eddie called out from his open window. He was dressed in a flannel and jeans, no doubt borrowed from his uncle. Killing the ignition, he hustled over to you before you could get through the door. “I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

Eddie shook his head and blew out a breath. “Look, I just…I wanted to tell you this at the bar, but you ran off–”

“So you came to my house?” You rolled your eyes. “Not creepy at all.”

He ran a hand through his curls. It was then that you noticed the missing rings, the skin slightly paler where they normally wrapped around his fingers. He tracked your gaze and looked at you with a bashful smile.

“Can’t wear them at the plant. I gotta tie my hair back, too.” He slid a ponytail holder off of his wrist and pulled back his frizzy mane, scrunching up his nose. “Always gives me a headache, though.”

You felt your guard slipping with each word he spoke. “It’s probably just too tight.” Without thinking, you gently tugged the rubber band farther from his scalp. “Better?”

“Yeah.” His voice was soft. Tender. Everything you remembered it to be back when things were good. “Please…can we talk?”

Despite your lingering heartbreak–or perhaps because of it–you nodded.

Eddie’s shoulders sagged in premature relief; the difficult part still laid ahead of him. “I didn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t sleep last night. Not after seeing you.” When his hand brushed against yours, you instinctively pulled away.

“No.” You held your ground as best as you could. “No, Eddie. You don’t get to touch me anymore. Especially not when you were the one with another woman.”

“Technically, so were you.” The joke fell flat, and he cleared his throat. “All right, fine. It was a second date with someone I met last week at the Hideout. Not someone I’m committed to.”

“Right. Because if you were committed to her, you’d just break up with her on the phone.”

Eddie reeled back, your retort a sucker-punch right to his gut. He took a few seconds to collect his thoughts before speaking again. “You don’t understand how hard it was for me,” he finally said, “to know you were far away, surrounded by a bunch of smart guys, while I was in my sixth year of high school.”

“I didn’t care about that—”

“But I did!” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. “God, I could just picture the conversations you’d have with your new friends: ‘Eddie? He doesn’t go here; he’s still in high school. No, he’s not younger than me. He’s actually a year older. He’s just an idiot.’”

A huff escaped your lips. “I’d never say that!” Did he actually think you’d even consider it?

“But you could’ve!” He scraped a tooth against his lower lip. “It would’ve been the truth!”

“Except you’re not an idiot,” you protested. “And throwing yourself a pity party isn’t going to make me feel bad for you.”

You downed what remained of your coffee, now only lukewarm. 

“No, I know. I know.” Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and shut his eyes. “This is coming out all wrong. Please, can we just go inside?”

No. The answer sat right on your tongue. And yet you found yourself opening the door and letting him in. 

Eddie sat down on the couch, making sure to leave enough space for you. He sighed when you remained standing, but began speaking again nevertheless.

“I’ve thought about you every goddamn day. And I know that’s not enough,” he rushed to add before you could say it yourself, “but I need you to know that I have. I wanted to call you a million times, but I always talked myself out of it. Figured it would just make you angrier.”

“You could’ve at least apologized.” You didn’t bother hiding the hurt in your voice; that façade had long since passed.

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” When he looked at you, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears. “I’m sorry I let my insecurities ruin everything. I’m sorry I broke your heart. I’m sorry that I never got to see your dorm room, or meet your new friends, or watch you walk that stage at graduation. I…”

Eddie was fully sobbing on your sofa, wiping his cheeks with calloused palms. “And I’m sorry that I still love you. I’m sorry that I can’t seem to let you go.”

He’d laid it all on the table for you, not hiding a single card in his hand. His gaze was raw with vulnerability; it seared into the hardened ice encasing your heart. 

“When I saw you at the bar last night…when I saw you looking at me…” Eddie let out a huff of air. “Maybe I was just getting my hopes up, but it felt like a part of you might still love me, too.”

And as that realization unraveled, as it unfurled like a flower finally blooming after winter’s frost, you found yourself nodding in agreement. 

All at once, Eddie stood in front of you. “Please say it,” he whispered, delicately cupping your face in his hands. “I need to hear you say it. Only if you mean it.”

“I still love you.” Your nose grazed his. “I don’t want to, but I do.”

“You don’t want to because I broke your heart?” When you answered in the affirmative, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “What if I promise that I’ll never break your heart again? What if I promise that it’s always been you?”

Your voice was soft, barely audible, when you told him, “Prove it.”

Eddie’s lips found yours, a magnetic pull that hadn’t weakened in the nearly four years you’d spent apart. “Course I’ll prove it,” he mumbled against your mouth. “Spend the rest of my goddamn life proving it.”

His hands slid up underneath your shirt, a ratty old tee reserved strictly for bedtime. There was no time to worry about it being the least sexy article of clothing you had; before you knew it, Eddie tugged it over your head and tossed it aside. He whimpered as he grabbed your breast, circling the nipple with his thumb. 

You’d only gotten two of his flannel buttons undone when you stopped. “Eddie, wait—don’t you have to go to work?”

Eddie laughed, his breath tickling your neck over the spot he’d been kissing. “I’ll just have to be late. Got something…more important to attend to.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, the two of you peeling off each other’s clothes until they lay in a heap on the floor. And then there was just you and Eddie, touching everywhere you could. 

“Baby.” The word was slurred, given the fact that his tongue was currently occupied with your nipples, your skin shining where his saliva remained. “Baby…fuck, I missed you.”

He was painfully hard, the tip of his cock flush against his tummy and leaking pre-cum. You wrapped your hand around the shaft, pumping him in a painfully slow rhythm. 

“Oh—ah!” Eddie hissed, steadying himself at your sudden touch. “F-Fuck, I—y-you can’t…too sensitive.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Already?”

Eddie nodded sheepishly. “You know how much I thought about this? Every time I…y’know…I imagined it was you.”

Just the mental picture of Eddie laying back in his bed, tugging on his cock while moaning your name, had you dragging him to the couch. No time to go all the way to the bedroom. 

The moment Eddie climbed on top of you as you lay on the cushions, his fingers drifted down to where you needed him most. His middle finger, then his ring finger, slid inside you with practiced precision. Picking up right where you’d left off. 

You clenched around him, your body greedy for more as his fingers moved in and out, in and out. 

“Eddie…” Just that one word was an effort; every brain cell focused only on the pleasure building between your thighs. “Eddie…Eddie…please…”

He nodded, his tongue darting out and swiping over his lower lip. “I remembered how much you love my fingers.”

It was true; his fingers were nothing less than magic. He swore it was because he played guitar, and maybe that was part of it, but the real reason was because he had you memorized. Knew exactly where to curl his fingers, exactly how to stroke your sweet spot until your legs were shaking. 

“You’re…you’re drenched.” He wasn’t cocky; he was awestruck. Absolutely shocked that you were so needy for him, that you’d missed his touch as much as he’d missed yours. “Gonna take care of you, baby, okay?”

You inhaled a staggered breath and melted into the couch. Eddie held total and complete control over you, and it surprisingly didn’t scare you in the least. 

The last thread of restraint snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves. You cried out Eddie’s name. It was him bringing you to a new level of ecstasy. It was him giving you everything you could ever want. 

His movements slowed to let you float down from the high. His fingers were slick with your arousal, and he popped them in his mouth with a content sigh. 

“Tastes so sweet.”

God, you needed him. Needed him to fill you entirely. Needed him to clear your mind of any thought besides how good he made you feel. Needed him to hold you down and take whatever he desired. 

Your gaze dropped down to his erection. Eddie followed your eyes, then looked back at you. 

“D-Do you…?” He trailed off before composing himself. “I mean, is it okay if I—”

“Yes.” There was no other possible answer. There was nothing else you could possibly want besides that connection, that intimacy, with the man you could never stop loving. “Please.”

Eddie obliged without hesitation. He angled himself with your entrance, pushing into you so slowly that it teetered on agonizing. You knew it would feel good; it always had, even that first awkward time together. But this was something else entirely.

It was as though a missing puzzle piece clicked into place, unlocking everything you had stowed away over the last four years without him. Tears lazily flowed down your cheeks, but before you had time to be embarrassed, Eddie kissed them away.

“S’okay,” he murmured, continuing to thrust into you with utmost care. “You’re okay, baby.”

You managed a smile as you navigated the influx of emotions. You were okay. You were with Eddie again, safe in his arms, his touch both electrifying and soothing.

All that was left to do was sink into it. 

You accepted his love, wrapping yourself in it and savoring every morsel. One of your hands found his cheek, your thumb grazing over the hint of stubble he missed when shaving. His kisses were oxygen itself, breathing life into every cell in your body. Everything was Eddie. Everything was okay again.

And then you started to giggle. It was discreet at first, but then it bubbled over until your smile was too wide to ignore. Eddie couldn’t even kiss you without his lips touching your teeth. 

“Babe?” He cocked his head, examining you as laughter floated out of you. 

“Sorry.” Another peal of laughter. “I’m…I’m just so happy.”

Eddie grinned, ducking to kiss your neck. “Me, too. Me fucking too, baby.”

There was the ebb and flow, the give and take, the push and pull. You and Eddie, working in tandem to bring the other to their climax. 

Your orgasm blossomed deep within you. You dug your fingernails into Eddie’s back and wrapped your legs around his to draw him closer. 

“Ed-Eddie, I’m…” Your hips raised to meet his, filling in where your words failed. 

Eddie nodded and gently kissed your lips. “I know, sweet girl. Just let go for me.”

And so you did. With a cry of his name, you came. You let yourself unravel right there on the couch, and before long, he was joining you. 

“Baby, baby, baby.” He let out a groan as he spilled into you, giving you every last drop. His chest rose and fell as he withdrew and caught his breath, though he kept his hands on you the whole time. Like you might disappear if he let go. 

You reached up to smooth back a lock of his hair. You needed to look into his eyes, no obstructions, when you asked him the question weighing heavily on your heart. 

“Where do we go from here?”

Eddie flinched, clearly not expecting such a candid remark right after sex. He shook off his shock and replaced it with a smirk. 

“I say we shower off first.” His nose brushed yours and he kissed you once again. “And then I’d like to take you to breakfast once the diner opens. I think we have a lot to catch up on.”

You gazed up at him, taking in the chest muscles that had filled out with the addition of manual labor.

 A shower and a breakfast date. It was a plan—maybe not like the ones you made, where every moment was perfectly laid out. And it was more than Eddie’s usual fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants demeanor. It was somewhere in the middle. A new equilibrium. 

“That sounds perfect.”

--

[eddiesdaydream]

saturn return | eddie munson

hello! I'm back :) will leave a little author note at the end of the fic for u. but in the meantime: enjoy this medieval slow burn fluffy smutty monster of a fic (which has not been proofread because I am so tired) <3

in short: you're from royalty, and the illicit crush you're harbouring on your sworn protector is threatened when your father, the king, reaches the end of his tether and finally begins the search for your husband.

medieval/fastasy au with knight!Eddie and fem!princess!reader, smut (18+ only, minors dni!), implied virgin!reader, (one attempted) assault, general fluff and angst and fun fantasy frolicking, mention/threat of arranged marriage (brief), enemies to lovers if you squint but mostly a bodyguard au but he wears armour and you live in a castle.

14k words (!!!)

-

You had only seen your knight without his cuffs and cloak once before in your life.

When you were nineteen, you had a fling with one of the boys who tends the horses in the stables. It had been a wet summer and against your father’s wishes you’d spent many evenings returning to the castle sodden and smiling. Your afternoons were adventurous - too much so for your age, your mother would say over dinner - and your escapades to the woodland beside the keep resulted in muddy fingerprints up the curve of your thighs and difficult-to-hide bruises blooming below your collarbone.

You may have been reckless, but you knew better than to show up to court with purpling bite marks where the collars of your dresses did not reach.

On one of the rare sunny evenings, you had stolen away after supper to the balcony that extended across the western wing of the castle. It stretched from your quarters around the side of the building, ending at the room that had belonged to your sister before she had been married to a man who lived across the sea. The sun was low and the air was thick and so in your nightgown you prowled the terrace, fingers dancing along the worn stone and up the wilting vines. As you rounded the corner there he was - your sworn protector, a man who could be barely a year your senior, hunched in an old chair over his armour. You stopped behind the wall with enough haste that he didn’t spot you - or if he had, he never let on - and while he was engrossed in the work of polishing the silver, you watched.

He’d done away with his undershirt, most likely because of the stubborn, close heat, and though he was side-on to you, his chair facing out towards the mountains in the distance, he was hunched to his left, leaving you with a view you much preferred to the vast one beyond the wall.

The muscles across his back rippled as his arm moved back and forth over the metal. In the quiet of the evening you could hear small grunts and sighs, and as your eyes adjusted to the light you spotted silvery marks of healed flesh across his side. His back was speckled with freckles and as he moved, you took notice of his mop of hair.

Though your father’s knights were never required to wear their helmets in the castle, the hair that now flowed freely was usually tightly bound at the nape of your knight’s neck. You had never realised how long it truly was - nor how unruly. Brown curls stood in what seemed like every direction, swaying back and forth in tandem with his shoulder, glowing a slight auburn in the setting sun.

You had watched him for a while, listening to the sounds of his efforts and drinking in the way the light made his skin gleam golden. It wasn’t until the sun had set that you had made your escape, bare feet padding silently across cool stone.

Ser Munson - Edmund, or Eddie as he preferred - was assigned as protector of the King’s first daughter when she came of age, at sixteen. You had been a moody teenager, belligerent and stubborn, determined you did not need protecting, even if the protector in question was broodingly handsome and a challenge to crack.

Thus, you lingered around the castle while your sisters sought husbands and new lives. Your father, though a cunning ruler, was soft when it came to his girls, and so no man was worthy of a single one of them unless he made her happy.

And no man ever had made you happy. The ones who put themselves forward as candidates for your hand were, in most cases, perfectly nice men. Mostly wealthy, often handsome, but always boring.

It was always the same: they believed you to be the most beautiful princess in the history of the realm, and they would be honoured to wed you. But as your father’s eldest daughter you knew one thing to be true: every one of them wanted the throne, and would marry you to get there.

So you sought fun in lowly servant boys, stealing kisses from cupbearers and kitchen porters, running wild in the vast gardens of the castle, just out of grasp of your grumbling mother. One day, you’d tell her when she chastised you over monstrously glutinous dinners. One day a man will come here and sweep me off my feet. Until then, I am content with my lot.

After that evening when you were nineteen, you had not looked at Eddie the same way. His job was to follow you everywhere - well, mostly everywhere, unless you were behind a tree with the stableboy again - so it was difficult to not look at him. But those aimless adventures became tiresome, and your daydreams became occupied instead by the man who tailed your every move. Stableboys were getting married, all your sisters were getting married, every eligible nobleman for a hundred miles was getting married - but you remained, as did Eddie.

“So it doesn’t hurt?”

“No, your highness.”

Eddie stares straight ahead, off into the distance, answering your childish questions through gritted teeth. You grin at him, elbow on the arm of your chaise and chin cupped by your hand, enjoying this latest instalment of your petty little game: you ask him silly questions, Eddie’s cheeks go pink, and you get a good giggle and a kick out of teasing him. It began as something lighthearted, a test of the waters after that late night wander changed your perspective, but that was two years ago and understandably, Ser Munson is getting increasingly tired of your games. 

“Your highness, can I suggest that you get dressed? You’ll be late for-”

“No,” you yelp as he stands to move, sword clanking. “I’m sorry, I’ll bite my tongue. Don’t go.”

“But Miss-”

“Okay, okay, I’ll dress, just wait outside the door, will you?”

“I always do, your highness,” he says. “It is my duty.” You cannot see the smirk he sports as he turns his back to you; it is one he reserves only for himself, lest your ego get too big.

You deflate into your chair as he leaves, the heavy door swinging open. Three young maids are by your side as it slams shut, lifting you from your doze and tying you into a corset and skirt. Today you’re offered a deep navy gown, the colour of your family’s flag and perhaps the colour you look second best in.

At least it matches Eddie’s cloak.

You knock softly twice on your bedroom door, your handmaids tugging at the final details, and the guards who stand watch pull it open for you. You breathe in quick and deep, hands smoothing the satin across the top of your skirt, and step forward into the hall.

Eddie stands to one side, awaiting your direction. You follow your usual morning route, down the wide corridor to the stairs, which roll out into an even wider hall like dropped silk. Eddie’s cloak slinks across the stone floor behind you, and you yearn to make a joke, prod at him, get under his skin but you cannot, for many eyes are upon you now.

The Great Hall sits at the opposite end of the atrium to the staircase. The walls between yourself and the huge, towering doors are decorated for the brief return of your youngest sister, the most recent to wed - she is pregnant, and so there must be celebrations.

Floral garlands follow you as you make your way across the room, where, at the far end, your father stands in the doorway, watching, your mother by his side.

Peering glances follow you until other guests arrive and attentions are diverted. So you slow your step just slightly, enough that Eddie does not notice immediately and falls in line with you. Before he can correct himself, you lean in.

“Ed- er, Ser Munson,” you say, tone playful but slightly sinister, an indicator that you are brewing one of your schemes.

“Yes, your highness?” he responds neutrally.

“Ser Munson, would you please do me a favour?”

Long ago, Eddie learned to never respond to this query the way he is supposed to as your protector: Anything, your highness.

Instead, he asks: “What can I do for you?”

“You know that sword?” You twist slightly, tapping the hilt of his blade where one of his fists seems to permanently rest. “You’ve killed people with it, right?”

“Only when I have to, your highness.”

“How many, would you say?”

You hear him take a sharp breath in. You smile softly.

“Eighteen.”

“Eighteen,” you repeat. “Care to make it nineteen? Do me a favour and slice through my guts so I don’t have to bear another one of these idiotic ceremonies?”

If you’d paid closer attention, rather than sharing your gaze between Eddie and your father, who was ever-nearing, you’d have seen that your dear knight almost broke. This would have been the closest you’ve come to getting a laugh out of him, your stoic, stone-faced hero.

“That’d be highly inappropriate, your grace,” he says, composed. “And I’d surely lose my head.”

“Oh, but that’s your job,” you whisper. “To die for me! And anyway, I can’t go to hell alone, you’ll need to keep me company. And protect me from the ghouls. So maybe make it twenty instead.”

This time, you do catch it. The corner of his mouth twitches and something in his eye, the way it dodges you, gives him away. In your peripheral vision you see him open his mouth - it’s close to your ear, you almost hear the beginning of a word - but you’ve reached the end of the hall, and your father awaits. Eddie falls back again, a step or two behind, as you drop your shoulders and brace yourself.

-

Being one of many sisters is a difficult life. Impossible to prevent yourself from comparing their hair to yours, their eyes, the slant of their shoulders, their waists, their hands, and worse is the bickering, the competition.

Being the only one of them not to be married is the worst.

Twenty minutes ago, you stole yourself away to a corner of the Hall with a too-full cup of wine and three slices of the best bread. Here you camp, munching on the final crust, eyeing up the table across the room. How do I get a refill without someone asking me to dance?

With your eyes squinted and shoulders hunched in, you scarcely notice your knight down the wall. He’s on guard, back straight with his hand on the hilt of his sword - watching, as he is supposed to. Only his attention is distracted, because in his peripheral vision is you, alone, as always.

It’s only when you hear the familiar clinking of sword sheath on armour that you turn to see that he’s beside you, and in a rare moment of peace, he’s leaning back, letting the wall take his weight.

“What’re you looking at?” You eye him suspiciously, swallowing the final sip of wine. “Come to ask for a dance for one of those snivelling Harrington boys?”

You hear him scoff, though he’s smiling just slightly. “No,” he says quietly. “Why, do you want to dance with Steven?”

You scoff. “Do I fuck.”

“Language, your highness.”

“Please stop calling me that when dad isn't around.”

He glances at you, smiling still, and rolls his eyes. “Why aren’t you with the other ladies?”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “The Buckleys aren’t here. It’s no fun without Robin.”

“And your sisters?”

“Oh yeah,” you drone. “I just love being reminded by all four of them how lucky a man would be to have me and how I must get married because, oh, weddings are so lovely!”

He turns to look at you properly, silver collar creaking, and reaches over to take your goblet. “How many of these have you had?”

You drop your hands behind your back, looking down at your slippers like a naughty child. “Three.”

To your surprise, you feel the damp rim of the cup meet your chin, pushing your face up. Eddie looks back at you and keeps the pressure under your head so you can’t divert your gaze. Your cheeks warm, heat blooming under his watch.

“Fine,” you sigh, eyes dropping closed in defeat. “Seven.”

You brace for a scolding, expecting a telling off from your faithful knight, but when you look at him in the silence, you find him grinning down at you.

“You’re going to feel awful in the morning,” he tells you.

You look back at him a little dumbfounded, because he’s very close to your face and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him in such detail before. There are creases by his eyes from smiling, and there’s an old, white scar across his nose, which is crooked, presumably from old punches.

“Will you take me to bed, then, please?” you ask softly, and he lowers the cup slowly, placing it on a nearby table without looking away from you. You look back at him, trying your hardest through the fog to give him your best pleading eyes, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. He’s close, still; time suspends as he nears even more and runs his thumb along the underside of your chin. It is the first time in your life that your knight has ever touched you.

 You watch as he brings it to his mouth - it’s a deep, bruised pink, dyed by the wine from the rim of the cup where it had held your face up - and, taking his eyes off you, slides it between his lips.

It’s certainly not the first time you’ve been breathless around him, but it is the first time you’re face to face with him as the air leaves your lungs in a slow, desperate whine. It feels criminal, illicit, standing in the shadows at the back of the room, within reach of anyone who cares to look for you, watching Eddie lick wine off the pad of his thumb.

The festive music on the other side of the room ends and people around you cheer. Eddie’s smile drops and he straightens up as though kicked in the back, looking around like he just woke from a dream.

“Uh, yes- Your highness. I’ll escort you to your quarters.”

He steps back but holds his arm out for you to take. For a moment you just stare at him, incredulous, before wrapping your fingers around the cool leather covering his forearm and lifting yourself off the wall, your heart wilting as his guard rises again and your fun, playful protector is lost to duty once more.

-

The ceiling of your bed chamber hasn’t changed in fifteen years. You know because you’ve had many nights like this, staring at it forlornly, yearning for something you cannot and will not have.

When you were six, your father had the sleeping quarters across the whole castle redecorated, and you requested a fresco above your bed. Under the guise of education, telling your father that it would help you practise your knowledge of Arthurian legends, you asked for a depiction of the knights of the round table. Truthfully, you wanted to be able to look at Arthur every night before you slept.

Now, it makes you feel sick. It’s an ugly, truthless fairytale, spun to make little girls giggle and you despise every inch of it, regardless of how beautiful it may have appeared to you once.

In the dark, you can still make out Arthur’s faded features. He is plain, with cropped blonde hair and a silly chestplate, looking over the expanse of your ceiling to Guinevere, whose clasped hands by her cheek make the picture of a woman in love.

You turn over, frustrated, and cover your head with a spare cushion.

-

The stone of the balcony wall is cool beneath the palms of your clammy hands. In the courtyard, your sister’s carriage is leaving, followed by many horsemen from her husband’s house. They’ll return only when the baby is born, to christen him in the family chapel.

You sigh as she leaves the gates and lean your weight on your hands. It’s still hot out, too hot for so many layers under your dress and a corset so tight, and you’re too exhausted to carry the weight around. Your maids are nowhere to be seen because it’s the middle of the afternoon and you should be socialising, but you’re an adult. You can dress - and undress - yourself.

As you return indoors, you reach behind your back and tug at the knot at the base of your corset. After a couple of frustrated tries it finally gives, loosening so that you can hook your fingers under each stretch and pull it undone. You gasp for air, filling your lungs properly as your ribs expand, and use your shoulders to pull it loose enough for you to remove. You take care to place each layer gently over your chaise - corset, overdress, skirt. You’re left in your undergarments - a long, loose slip made of cotton - when you hear an unexpected knock and the door begins to open.

You jump, feeling suddenly exposed in so few layers. It’s unlike anyone to disturb you at this hour.

You tense even more when your knight, with his hair loose and his cheeks pink, pushes the doors wider. He stops in his tracks for a moment as he spots you across the room, flushed your own shade of mortified.

“Eddie,” you hiss. “Shut the fucking door.”

His eyes widen and he straightens up, knocked out of his daze. You expect him to retreat, but he moves inside and pushes the doors closed behind himself.

“I meant with you outside them, ideally,” you bite.

“I- Uh, sorry- My apologies, your highness, I-”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Sorry! Sorry, shit, I- It’s important, sorry.”

“So important that it requires you to see me indisposed?”

He looks at you blankly for a second. “I mean, technically I see you like this every morning when you interrogate m-” 

“Oh, shut up,” you spit, eyes narrowing. Your arms are still crossed over your chest, even though you’re covered from neck to ankle. “You know that’s different. There’s no robe or slippers between us now, Ser Munson.”

His cheeks bloom at that, pink slipping into fiery red. He breathes impatiently through his nose, clearly irritated by your prodding, and steps closer.

“Your highness,” he says pointedly. You roll your eyes. “Your father- His Highness requests your presence. In the throne room.”

-

“I refuse.”

“Darling, I-”

“No!”

Your father stands at the other end of the table, his head hung and his hands on the wood in front of him. You are in the room in which he has his important meetings with his council. Over the years you’ve tried a hundred times to get in here during such meetings, to no avail, but now all you want is to get out.

“You are twenty-one,” he says after a breath. “I’ve given you time, five years of it. You can’t remain unmarried any longer.” This conversation has only been happening for maybe two and a half minutes, but it seems more like an age; you’re exhausted from yelling already, especially at him. But it feels like the walls are closing in, your entrapment in a loveless marriage with a stranger now a certainty rather than a possibility. It’s beyond your power to stop the tears falling.

“You can’t make me,” you say through the thickness of your throat. Your arms wrap around your waist, squeezing, breath hiccupping on its way out.

“I can,” he sighs. “But I really don’t want to. It doesn’t have to be horrible. Your sisters, they’re all happy, why-”

“I don’t care about them. I want to be-” You stop yourself, because this isn’t something to talk about here, with your father of all people; you’d barely even talk to your mother about this stuff. But he’s looking at you again over the expanse of mahogany and his eyes are sad, because he’s fighting with his first daughter, and you break. “I want to be in love, father. I don’t want to be sold off to the highest bidder because I’m the eldest. That can’t be my life.”

He sighs again. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. It is. There are fifteen houses coming here tomorrow, each with an eligible son. I’m letting you choose; it’s the most I can do.”

Your nose burns with betrayal and terror. Your cheeks are wet, tears falling into soft, wet spots on the front of your dress. Your arms squeeze your middle one last time before you turn, pushing past the Kingsguard who stand at the door, past the cupbearers and the maids, and past Eddie, who has been waiting for you outside. For the first time ever you don’t hear the familiar sound of armour following you, and for a moment you almost stop to turn and look for him, but you’re still crying and although it’s the middle of the afternoon, all you want to do is hide.

-

“It’s true,” Robin sighs. “I’ve been looking in our library, and I’ve counted at least three instances.”

You roll onto your back. Robin sits beside you on the plush of your bed, which has been remade by your maids so that there are no remnants of your painful, sleepless night. She strokes your hairline softly, looking down at you with sorry eyes.

“The most recent was eighty-three years ago,” she continues. “Lady Flora. She ran off with her knight, to be fair… But still!”

“I’m the eldest, Robin,” you tell her, trying your hardest to stop your words coming out in a hiccup; you only stopped crying this morning, and you’re in no mood to begin again now. “There’s too much expected of me. I can’t run off. I have to pick the right person.”

She takes in a breath. “Who says he isn’t the right one? Or that you’d have to run off?”

“Centuries of historical precedent,” you tell her flatly. When you meet her eye, though, you watch as she tries and fails to hold in a laugh.

“Since when have you ever cared about historical precedent?”

“Never, but that’s the problem.” You sit up quickly, knocking her affectionate hand back into her lap. “I can’t… This isn’t right. None of it is, but especially… Him.”

“But in the centuries of historical precedent,” Robin says, a poor imitation of you, “There were people like you.”

“And what happened to them?” you ask with a huff, standing to pace beside your bed. “Exiled, abandoned, cut off, ridiculed… I can’t live like that, Robin. But- But I can’t exist here while he’s always around, right behind my back. He’s like my fucking shadow. I can’t-” You hiccup, a wet sound that heralds the return of tears. “I can’t move on.”

Robin watches you with eyes laced with a pity that makes you furious. You want her to fix this; it’s entirely irrational, but you’re lost, and surely someone somewhere has to take responsibility for this, fix it so you don’t have to feel anything anymore. Remove Eddie, replace him with someone lifeless and unfunny and ugly, hand you a beautiful, attentive husband on a platter and, most of all, take the pain away.

But it doesn’t work like that. You know it doesn’t.

“Your Highness,” Eddie says in a raised voice from beyond your door. “It’s time.”

You look at Robin, who looks back at you, her eyes wide.

“I’ll be a minute,” you shout back hesitantly as she rises and rushes over. You let her help you adjust your dress and she dips a cloth left behind by a maid into the basin of cool water by your bedside, wiping it gently over your cheeks in an attempt to reduce the blotches there.

Neither of you say another word. She takes your hand firmly and squeezes.

-

You hate this.

Although you’re desperate for anything but a pre-arranged marriage pact, part of you had quite genuinely hoped for some kind of miracle, that one of your suitors would be The Guy. In your restlessness the evening prior, you’d even let yourself fantasise that one of them, strikingly handsome in your daydreams, would appear at the foot of the throne and you’d feel it in that instant: love.

But in every version of this delusion, The Guy was faceless, nameless, a blur of a person until he wasn’t. Until he was Eddie.

In reality, your knight is out of sight for once, and you’re nearing hour three in the gardens, where the court musicians entertain the countless guests and wine is flowing freely for everyone except you. (With your father at your elbow all afternoon, it’s impossible to get a second cup. Your mouth is dry and your boredom inflating.)

You know better than to assume Eddie’s left the gardens completely, but there are too many people for you to see him.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp elbow nudge your rib.

You turn to your father and find him wide-eyed and pink in the nose - a tell-tale sign of frustration - nodding to the man standing opposite the two of you.

“Hm?” you hum, painfully aware of how obvious it is to the both of them that you weren’t paying a lick of attention.

“Lord Carver was telling us about his hunts,” your father says through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” you sigh, turning to the stranger. “How… Interesting. What do you hunt?”

“Deer, mostly,” he responds, puffing out his chest. His cheeks are blotched with pink and the caramel blonde of his hair is unpleasant. The pleasure of your attention is clearly feeding his ego. “Started on pheasants when I was ten. They’re far too easy now; I’m heading out tomorrow to try for a stag. Say, care to join me?”

“Oh, I’m flattered,” you say with a saccharine giggle and hand to your chest that your father can certainly see straight through. “But I don’t hunt. Thank you, though, Lord Carver.”

Lord Carver seems to take this somewhat personally, despite your almost sincere attempt at a polite curtsy. He comes over stoney, steel-eyed as though you’ve wounded him.

“No matter. Your highness,” he says flatly, bowing quickly to your father before turning on his heels and marching away.

You barely listen as you are accosted by the king for being so blatantly rude. Lord Carver is far from your mind because across the heaving mass of strange bodies, you can see your knight, looking straight back at you.

Your father hisses your name but you do not listen.

“I’m taking a walk,” you tell him. “Sorry, father, I just need a break. And… A glass of water.”

It must have rained this morning. The grass is damp beneath your feet, soaking slowly through the velvet of your lilac slippers as you push your way between bodies as politely as you can manage.

With your focus on the ground you do not see Eddie’s eyes following your figure through the crowd; you also do not see Lord Carver six steps behind.

The latter reaches you first, by quite a margin, a moment after you’ve broken free of curious strangers and can finally breathe again. Everything happens very quickly. In the shadow of a high wall, the man reaches for your arm like a viper. His fingers coil and the fresh garden air is replaced by his coddling breath on your cheek. He spun you so quickly you feel momentarily winded, enough to catch you off guard as your face scrapes the old brickwork. Spit hits your cheek and mixes with fresh blooms of blood as his pink face looms, dominating your field of vision - like a bear in a trap you feel helpless, his fingers around your wrist so tight you fear he may break your bones. In a moment you’re frozen stiff and he takes his chance, his lips pushing angrily into the stretch of bare skin above the collar of your dress.

“You’re a bitch,” he says, muffled by the skin under your jaw. You writhe and whimper but you cannot scream. “You humiliated me. See what happens to cunts like- Ungh-” 

The force of your knee between his legs is enough force to knock him back. Stumbling, he lurches forward again, only to meet your elbow, sharp and swift at his throat. The pathetic choking sound he makes mixes with the familiar sound of heavy boots; you turn to find Eddie, pink in the face, fist on the handle of his sword.

“Christ,” he pants, “Are you okay?”

Lord Carver coughs as he struggles to regain his balance.

“You-” Cough. “You bitch,” he spits, hand at his collar.

“Watch yourself,” Eddie growls, towering over the spluttering lord, his sword pulled only a few inches from its sheath - a warning: I will not hesitate. “I suggest you take your family home, Sir.”

Lord Carver looks up at him, red eyes watering and breath still catching. For a moment he seems to contemplate fighting back, but even you almost find yourself laughing at the possibility, until you look to Eddie and find a version of the man you’ve never seen before.

Your life, which Eddie tails endlessly from a few paces behind, always, is quiet. Mundane, boring, unadventurous; you rarely leave the castle grounds and when you do, it’s inside a carriage. Your bravest adventure since you were sixteen was taken barefoot, that evening after dinner, up on the balcony where you’d stumbled across your knight, bare-chested and panting.

You’ve teased Eddie before about how the lack of danger in your life must mean his own is boring. Though he never once gave into you, deep down you worry that it’s true.

Now, though, your knight is coloured a shade unknown to you. He’s come over like a shadow, eyes hard and brow set, and there’s a vein visible above the collar of his cape. Lord Carver seems to halve in size beneath his frame, and though he has never shown himself like this in front of you before, you’re sure of one thing.

Your pleading cry is too late, too weak - before you can intervene, Eddie’s fist makes contact with Lord Carver’s cheekbone. There’s a crack that, to you, is as loud as thunder, though the skies are as blue as they’ve ever been. As his back hits the floor, Lord Carver yelps like a wounded dog, and Eddie moves in on him.

“Eddie,” you plead, voice weaker still, your hands grasping his arm, “Leave him alone, I’m okay, please.”

In the commotion, you’d failed to notice your growing audience. You’re sure that if you let him, Eddie would give another punch, and another, but the man on the floor is bleeding from his nose and from a wide gash under his eye and your slippers are drenched through and so is the collar of your dress where your tears, unbeknownst to you, have been soaking the cotton.

“Please,” you hiccup, your hands squeezing, pulling Eddie backwards with as much strength as you can manage.

“Asshole!” Carver spits, his voice broken. Two men who resemble him are helping him up off the ground, the small crowd murmuring between themselves as they watch him stumble away. “You’ll regret this!”

It’s an empty threat. You barely hear it, in fact, because Eddie is finally turning to you, his shoulders dropping. His face softens the moment he looks at you.

“Are you okay? Did he- Where did he hurt you?” He asks again. People are dispersing but you pay them no mind because Eddie’s hands hold your face and it stings when he runs his gloved thumb over the gash on your cheek. You wince and his grip on you tightens, as though you might slip away if he lets you.

As his arms wind around your shoulders, you push your face into the embroidered crest that sits by his heart.

“You’re okay,” he tells you firmly, sweet words murmured into your hair. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

Your father’s booming voice cuts through whispering strangers like a whip. Eddie moves away from you so quickly that you almost choke.

Tears mix with old blood and you want to scream. You want these strangers to leave your garden, you want Eddie to clean your wounds, you want to run away.

You cannot have what you want.

-

Two and a half weeks ago, your father replaced your knight via a letter.

Ser Munson has been reassigned.

After two nights of bed-rest in your chamber, wherein you were seen only by your mother and two alchemists, your new knight - an older man, as old as your father and then some - made himself known at your door. He informed you of his new appointment as your sworn protector. When you asked after Eddie, he closed the door.

Two lonely weeks entailed many downward spirals. One evening after countless days spent rotting, refusing the attendance of your mother or father, you find yourself staring blankly at your reflection in the glass beside the chest that houses your dresses. The girl looking back is gaunt and her eyes are bloodshot. There’s an old cut on her bottom lip, close to healing but you’re sure you’ll bite it open again soon enough, splitting the skin so that deep red plumes can burst through and begin the process again.

You think about Eddie. What would he say if he could see you now? Over the weeks you’ve spent more hours than you can count thinking about how he’d held you, the words spoken into your hair, low enough to avoid unwelcome ears. His hands had gripped you so firmly that you’d almost felt whole again after Lord Carver’s grubby paws had violated you so horribly. Now you’re hollow.

His reassignment was surely your punishment: how dare you let yourself be so distracted that you humiliate a noble Lord to the point of such anger? How dare you humiliate him such that he wants to hit you, bite you, kiss you, hurt you?

Meals delivered by your maids go uneaten. You do not speak to your new knight, only catching a glimpse when he opens the door for attendants. 

At the dawn of a Thursday, your mother delivers the news that you are to stay behind while your parents visit your sister. You’re not sure which one of the four it is, but you do not care. With them gone, maybe you can go out; it’s early summer, after all, the weather is glorious, and you’re gasping for some sunlight and some respite from this stupidity.

-

When the sandbag splits, old hay spills onto the muddy ground.

Eddie’s sword is freshly sharpened and slices through the woven material like a hot knife through butter. He imagines Lord Carver’s face where the bag is tied together with string and watches it fall limply to the floor.

Outside in the courtyard, the sun is hot and shade is rare, and sweat beads on his forehead and drips to his chin. Other knights spar around Eddie, practising for nothing. His new position in the Kingsguard is, quite obviously, a downgrade, but only a few of his fellow knights have tried to get the why out of him: why have you stopped tailing the eldest daughter around? Why are you now forced to watch the southern walls in the dead of night? How did it happen? What did you do?

He chances a glance upwards, to the higher balcony along the wall, squinting under the sun. He doesn’t know if what he sees is you, standing in the shadow, or a trick of the light.

-

Your parents have been gone for two days, and the castle is like a ghost town. It’s never like this; even on late night escapades through the hallways, there are always maids at work, cleaning ladies and cupbearers. Guards on constant rotation, your father’s advisers wandering the halls having hushed conversations.

Tonight, though, there’s nothing. Your family’s absence is a moment of respite for the staff, who get a rare few evenings off to venture into town for some fun. You’re completely alone.

The long corridors look almost blue. The full moon is rising over the horizon and you’re enjoying an evening of freedom.

With most of the court staff out of the castle walls, you can’t be sure if you’ll find what you’re looking for tonight. He may have gone off with them, with his friends in the guard, down to a pub, getting drunk because he can, stumbling half-blind into a brothel like the rest of them do.

You shake the thought off because it turns your stomach, despite having no claim over the boy. It’s true that he may have gone but you’re searching anyway, because you’re driving yourself mad with guilt, and secretly you’ve missed him horribly.

You miss knowing he’s right outside your door, only ever a few paces away if you need him. You miss the blooming pink across his cheeks whenever you tease him, his stumbling answers and poor attempt at staying stony-faced and stoic. And you miss the smirk, though you’re sure he thinks he hides it well, that creeps across his face whenever you finish your teasing.

It’s your first time in this corner of the castle. Almost twenty-two years of living here, you’ve never had a reason to venture to where the knights stay. It’s a long way from your own wing - you’ve been walking for ten minutes and you’ve only just spotted a door. You’re treading softly in your favourite ruby slippers which, though you’d never admit it even to yourself, were surely chosen on purpose. You dressed yourself this evening, so there’s no use blaming your maids for the decision to drape you in scarlet.

As you come to a stop outside the room, you hold your breath and listen. You haven’t seen a single knight - not even your own new one - this whole time, but there’s somebody in there, and it sounds like they’re pacing.

Your hand reaches for the handle but just as you touch the iron, it twists on its own and the door flies open. You stumble forwards, losing your balance, but a familiar hand steadies you.

“Your highness?” He breathes, helping you back up. “What the- What are you doing here?”

You look at him. The man staring back at you is wide-eyed, those browns as pretty as ever but framed by new, dark circles. It’s difficult to see in the low light but he’s more tired than you’ve ever seen him. And though he seems sleepy, he’s dressed up in most of his on-duty getup, without the cape and sword.

“Eddie?”

“I thought the- Aren’t you supposed to be seeing your sister?”

“No, I… I stayed behind,” you tell him. A half-lie.

He looks back at you blankly. “Well,” he sighs. “We should… I should escort you back to your chamber.”

“No,” you say firmly. He does not invite you inside but you step over the threshold anyway, pushing past him into what you assume must be his bedroom.

It’s a plain room. The bed is low with old sheets, and there’s one candle burning on a table by the window. On the wall above his bed, he has hammered what looks like a letter into the plaster. And to the left of that-

“Is that mine?” You point plainly to the embroidery hoop. Even in the near-darkness you cannot miss the rosy flush you ignite across his face.

He scratches the back of his neck nervously. “Yes.”

It’s a small hoop, one you must have done years ago. A deep red rose, your favourite.

You look at it for a moment, and then to him. “Where have you been?”

He drops his hand. “I was reassigned,” he tells you.

“Why?”

“I don’t-”

“Why?” you press. He sighs and leans in the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest.

“After the… Incident with Lord Carver, your father thought it best that I be moved.”

“And now?”

“Now,” he sighs, “I’m on the nightwatch.”

“The nightwatch?!” you parrot. Even you, with only superficial understanding of the mechanics of your father’s guard, know that that’s one of the worst jobs. “But you… Why would he punish you?”

“Ask him,” he says bitterly, and so quickly that you know he regrets it instantly. “Sorry,” he corrects, “That was out of order.”

“Don’t apologise,” you say back, stepping past him into the wide hallway. It’s a brighter blueish-grey now, the moon nearing its highest spot in the night sky. You stop, turning to look at Eddie, and there’s a beat of silence.

He’s watching you quietly, and it takes him a moment to realise that you wish him to follow you. Under the moonlight you’re effervescent, your skin almost sparkling. The soft glow of the moon reflects a million times in your eyes like tiny diamonds. You’re so pretty it’s difficult to look away.

Eventually he closes the door behind him and falls into a familiar step, just behind your left foot. You walk and talk as you meander through random hallways, clearly unsure where you’re going but he says nothing, silently grateful to see you again and willing to walk every hall of the castle if it means stretching out the time before he has to leave you again.

“Why do you say that?” he asks. You turn your head to look at him, lost. “You told me not to apologise.”

You huff, striding forward. “You don’t have to respect my father around me, Eddie. It’s not like he respects me, or anything.”

“I don’t understand,” he says quietly. You bristle, frustrated that you’ve allowed the conversation to move to you. You’d intended to find out where he’d gone, not tell him about this.

“He can quite easily forget about me,” you tell him over your shoulder bitterly. “I’m happy to forget about him for a few days.”

“I… I don’t understand,” he repeats, and it irritates you double.

“For God’s sake,” you spit, stopping so abruptly that he almost crashes into your back. You spin and stare him down. “I’m a disappointment, okay? They left for their trip, and they left me behind. I’m useless. No man likes me, not enough to marry me, only stupid stableboys have ever come close to me. Something went wrong somewhere and now I’m here, heir to the throne and without a husband. And it’s. Your. Fault.” You jab your index finger to his chest for emphasis, but it’s meagre because you can feel the tears returning and you want nothing less than to be seen crying by Ser Munson. 

You cross the remainder of the hallways alone, Eddie left behind. Whether by choice or because of shock you don’t know, and frankly you don’t care. When you finally return to familiar halls, you push your way into your chambers and slam the heavy door as hard as you can behind you.

After a few minutes of pacing, having make-believe arguments with yourself in hushed tones, there’s a soft knock. So soft you almost miss it, but the eerie quiet of the castle has you jumpier than usual.

“Sweetheart,” you hear through the thick wood. “Let me in? Please?”

Maybe it’s your fear in the silence, or maybe it’s the way the rare sweetheart makes your stomach drop; either way you cave, rushing over and heaving the door open.

On the other side of the threshold, Eddie stands, hair unruly like he’s run his hands through it a few times. The curls stick out at odd angles and stand out dark against his alabaster skin.

Something in his eyes makes you break. The tears come thick and fast and before you can hide or apologise or close the door, arms wrap you up and his hand is on your back, smoothing patiently up and down.

It’s not the most comfortable hug; his armour is mostly leather and cloth but the toughness of it all makes it difficult to completely lean into him. As though he senses that, he pulls back, though his hand lingers on your arm where he gives you a squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccup, palms smudging wet tears across your face in an attempt to dry your eyes. “That was so mean of me, I’m sorry.”

“I just want to know what you mean,” he says, his eyes sadder than you’ve ever seen them. You dreaded this inevitability the moment you let the blame fall from your lips, but you owe him that much.

You sigh, look down at your feet, and resign yourself to truth.

“Father… He loves me, but he loves the throne just as much. And I’m the eldest, and I’m almost twenty-two, so…”

In your peripheral vision you see him sag, his shoulder dropping in premature realisation.

“He brought all those men here, and not one of them was even slightly as interesting to me as you.”

Eddie looks at you, at the tears that periodically drop from your cheeks to the floor, listens to you sniff and hiccup, and wonders how on Earth you exist, let alone how you’ve landed here, with feelings so profound for him of all people.

“That’s one of the nicest things anyone has ever said about me,” he tells you honestly. You look up at him and the sight winds him: you’re crying, and it’s sad and stressful and difficult but you’re so beautiful.

You giggle and to him, it’s the ringing of a thousand bells by a thousand angels. It’s golden and brilliant. “I’m surprised,” you say, your smile lingering. “You’re really very lovely.”

He steps forward and reaches up, taking your chin in his gloved hand. You look back at him and sigh without meaning to as he moves his hand to cup your cheek and wipes stray tears away with his thumb. It takes your mind back to loud music, seven goblets, and a wine-stained thumb between his teeth.

“You’re beautiful,” he tells you quietly. There’s no one around but this still feels painfully scandalous, like glass that could - and will - shatter at any moment. No sudden movements.

You smile into his palm. “Stop it.”

“It’s true,” he says as his thumb moves across your skin, over the remnants of the cut across your cheekbone, over expanse of skin to your lips.

You watch him as he takes a deep breath in.

“I wasn’t reassigned,” he admits to you. You match him, breathing deep through your nose, preparing for the truth. “Well, I asked to be reassigned. I had to plead, really, because your father… He’s a good man.”

You roll your eyes without thinking and feel your bottom lip quivering again, the tears reemerging.

“He told me I’d never be able to see you again,” you tell him in a whisper.

“That’s my fault.”

“What?” You lift your head upright and he drops his hand, bringing it to his hair instead to run it through the curls again.

“I asked that I be kept away from you.”

“Why?! Why on earth would you… What could possibly possess you?”

“I couldn’t go through that again,” he says. “I couldn’t be near you. It was too… Too painful, and I let it get the better of me when I punched Lord Carver.”

“You were protecting me,” you say flatly. “That’s- That was your job.”

The emphasis hurts. “I know,” he sighs, “But… I wanted to kill him.”

“I don’t understand,” you tell him. You despise the whimper your words come out with, the way your jaw clenches to hold back more tears. What you can see of his neck above the collar of his thick tunic and under the cover of ringlets of tired hair is blotchy, coming up rosy in uneven patches. Is he stressed? Nervous? Both?

Your vision blurs with tears and your nose burns. He looks back at you softly, just like always, his eyes dark and inviting. Your lip wobbles again and you hear his breath hitch in the quiet.

“Let me show you,” he offers as he holds your cheek again. You cannot help but lean in, head tipping to the left to feel the expanse of leather over your cheek, his thumb dancing softly across your skin.

“No, I- You have to explain yourself, I don’t-”

“Please?” He looks at you with those fucking eyes of his and you want to kick him and kiss him all at once. “Do you trust me?”

The urge to kick him persists but you nod anyway. Perhaps the kicking is not a frustration aimed at him but at yourself instead: why can you not tell him how you feel? Why does the possibility of what he’s about to do scare you so much?

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit to him in a whisper. You feel naked before him, though there’s layers of thick velvet and scuffed leather between the two of you, a hundred barriers of material, an aching yawn of distance that you find yourself disliking immensely. 

Can Eddie read your mind? It feels that way right now - you only uttered six words but he seems to understand you entirely at this moment. He drops his hand from your face, takes a step back, and as you watch him wordlessly unbuckle his armour, your stomach contracts and your soul becomes hollow in anticipation. He removes the belt that the sword usually sits on, and then his leather gauntlets, pulling each finger from the gloves and placing them, too, on the table. As he peels off each piece of his uniform, creating a growing pile on the wood and on your floor, you see, for the first time since that night when you were nineteen, the bloom of his flesh under his billowing undershirt. He’s paler now than he was then, though the moonlight seeping in through the cracks between heavy curtains over your windows is no match for the golden wash of colour he had once basked in. If you had any sense you’d laugh at the display before you: endless metal defences and leather covers come away from his body and pile noisily beside him. But you’re transfixed, fingers fidgeting, bottom lip absentmindedly between your teeth.

You do not notice him glance at you every so often. Between removing each greave, he looks up at you again, and there’s nothing he can do to stop the flurry of blood to his cheeks. He’s baring himself, and you’re looking at him like he’s edible; perhaps, to you, he is.

After many minutes filled only by the sounds of deconstructed armour, metal and leather, he’s free of it, and he stands before you in a loose shirt and cotton slacks. His pale chest is visible behind the deep, un-tied collar and your fingers itch, fidgeting still, yearning to know what it feels like.

“Talk to me,” he whispers. “Don’t go quiet on me now.”

“I saw you like this, once,” you say quickly, voice so low it’s almost a whisper. You’re looking at everything - his arms, his legs, neck, chest, hands - except his eyes.

He’s taken aback. “What?”

“Years ago. I was nineteen. You were outside-” You turn to look through the open balcony door behind you, at the bright white gleaming down on the stone beyond. “-polishing. It was so beautiful out there, but I remember watching you for ages.”

You turn back, eyes on his finally. As ever, they’re wide and deep brown and beautiful. “Sorry. I know that’s strange. And forbidden, I guess.”

“No,” he breathes, taking a step towards you. “No, it’s fine- It’s okay.”

The air is thick and between that and your corset, you can barely breathe. He’s inching closer and it’s difficult to know where to look.

Nobody has ever been this close to you before. Not truly; you kiss your father and mother on the cheek before heading to bed each evening, you give your sisters fleeting embraces, you've fooled around with stableboys and, of course, you once loved to lean into his space whenever you teased Eddie, but this is different. Someone electing to be so near, choosing to breathe your air and not flinching or pulling back, instead lingering just to let his eyes dance over yours once more - it’s new, and it’s addictive.

He’s breathing your air but you’re also breathing his. The hills of his cheeks are mere whispers from your own, and his nose, crooked at the bridge where it once broke, nudges yours so lightly that you ought not feel it. It takes your breath away anyway.

At the sound of your gasp he smiles, only slightly, but you’re so close you see it in his eyes. Crows' feet emerge, wrinkling happiness beside his temples, and you can’t help but return it. As you fight the urge to close your eyes you watch him as he watches you, bated breaths and whimpers. All of a sudden he meets your gaze and you stumble where your foot had been resting on your other ankle. The heel of your slipper slides across bare skin and your balance goes, but before you can panic or cry out, you are pulled in breathless by his strong arm around your back. There may be layers upon layers of fabric but you feel it anyway, the electric jolts up your spine where his palm presses firm into your waist. Whether he means to or not is unclear, but you’re chest-to-chest with him now, the firm bones of your corset pushed against his shirt.

Your fingers spread across the fabric of his shirt. Without meaning to, you venture upwards, fingertips meeting the small smattering of coarse hair there, under the cotton. You watch your hands like they’re moving on their own, until his finger, hooked beneath your chin, tilts you up to meet his eye again.

It’s happening, you think to yourself. But then his arm, still around your middle, tightens briefly and he’s gone.

You watch him cross your room, the few steps he takes to your bed suddenly a criminal distance, too far, far too far. He sits upright on the edge of it, legs parted.

“Come here,” he says, his voice a melodic tug at your core. You move to him, sliding each of your slippers off on the way, and stand hesitantly between his knees, holding your breath without thinking to. 

You can’t look at him. You caught a glimpse of his eyes and the way they’re looking up at you and you can’t. It’ll surely kill you.

He thinks you’re perfect, standing here, towering over him, relenting. His tough palms smooth over the layers of deep red velvet that lie over your hips, and for a moment he allows himself to relish in the small noises of shock you’re making before he urges you to turn around.

“You know,” he begins as his deft fingers untie and release the intricate ribbons at your back. “It wasn’t your fault.”

You turn your head towards him, as far round as you can. “What?”

“The… What happened, that afternoon. The way he spoke to you…” Eddie’s fingers still for a moment and you hear him take a deep breath. “The way he touched you. I don’t know what your father- what His Majesty said about it, but it wasn’t your fault.”

His left hand begins pulling at the ribbons again, but his right rests safely on your waist, as though he’s demonstrating something: how you should be touched, the way you deserve, soft and kind and gentle and wanted.

You hum in agreement.

“And I truly am sorry I punched him,” he says. “It- If I’d just told him to back away, it never would have become such… Such a thing, a big deal.”

“Eddie,” you breathe, grateful that you can get a lung-full again. You turn back to him in his grasp and take his face in both hands. Your palms are warm but they’re nothing compared to the flames of his cheeks, which almost burn under your touch. “I’m not mad that you punched him. I wish I’d done it, truly. But I’m never mad that you want to protect me.”

Your hands on his face startle him. You both sense it in the moment, how unlike you this is, to touch him so willingly and so carefully.

“I don’t think you needed me to protect you,” he says quietly, a smile emerging though he tries his best to hold it back. “Your elbow seemed to do a good enough job of that.”

Ah! The sound of your feather-light laugh fills a yawning gap in his chest that appeared two and a half weeks ago. It sounds even more beautiful than before, a twinkling spark of a sound, just for him.

“You’re funny,” you tell him. “I’ll always need you, Ser Munson. Don’t worry about that.”

He looks up at you from his seat on the edge of your bed with eyes that sparkle like the sky outside. Perhaps it’s the reflection of the faded stars painted onto your ceiling, or perhaps it’s just the sight of you.

Both of his hands are on your waist, now, as you stand between his legs. There’s a lot of material in your skirt, though, and it feels too distant still, so you reach behind your back to pull the remainder of the ribbons keeping your corset on, and pull it over your head. Eddie helps where he can from such a low vantage point, and as soon as it’s off and disregarded on the floor, his eager fingers are pulling the velvet dress down and away from your body.

“Fucking hell,” he heaves, “How many things do you have on right now?”

“You’re one to talk,” you giggle. “It took you five whole minutes just to free your arms.”

“Okay, but that’s important. I don’t want to lose my arms. This must weigh a tonne, and… For what?”

You hold his cheek in your left hand again while he unties various laces and undoes buttons. Your skirt has fallen away, as has the underskirt and the other, thicker layers. You’re left in your underdress, a simple white cotton embroidered at the collar. It’s nicer than the one he caught you in all those weeks ago, moments before your life seemed to tilt and slip away beneath you.

Under the fabric, your nipples harden in the cold, jutting out and catching Eddie’s eye.

“Is this okay?” He asks, pulling you in anyways, standing you safely between his knees, his wide hands tentative on your hips. “We don’t have to-”

“Yes,” you say firmly. “Please, yes.”

His hands slide over the hills of your behind to the backs of your thighs. He’s still looking up at you, eyes drooping when your fingers dance through his hair. 

“I meant it, though,” you say. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay,” he sighs, standing slowly. “I have all the time for you.”

The moonlight bleeds a sharp bluish hue but it doesn’t matter. Right now, as he says those lovely words, the boy is a golden ball of light, humming pinks and warm ochre. Your yearning arms wind over his shoulders as his breath mixes with yours once more, his nose nudges the swell of your cheek, his hands press firm into your waist. He’s slow with it, tantalising, keeping you whimpering and desperate, until he finally dips into you, lips on yours with a surprising urgency.

It’s magic, you are so sure of it. His mouth moves over yours with certainty: he wants to be here, he wants to kiss you. He’s wanted to kiss you.

All those fairytales that your wiry old school teacher told you were real, about spells and conjurings and spirits: it’s all real, surely, and it’s in this feeling. There’s no other way you can understand it, though in truth your brain isn’t entirely clear because his fingers are smoothing lower, bunching your dress in his fists to pull the fabric up over the stretch of your legs. All the while his kisses never cease; in fact, once you feel the cool air over the material of your underwear, you gasp and welcome his tongue with your own. Air is worthless to you now; all you want is Eddie.

Much to your dismay, he seems to disagree, pulling back from you to take a breath and lift your dress over your head. He whispers up and you raise your arms, letting him undress you quietly, and once he has, you daren’t open your eyes, instead winding your arms across your chest. You feel the nighttime breeze across the backs of your thighs and you tense knowing that you’re bare in front of him.

There’s a slow beat before you feel his hands again. You hear the dress discarded on the stone floor and then his rough fingers are gently, oh so gently, holding your waist. It’s like he thinks you could break.

“Can I touch you?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Of course you can.”

You expect more solid grabs of flesh, hands smoothing over the expanse of your stomach, maybe even venturing upwards, but you take in a surprised breath when you feel his mouth on your sternum.

His rough hands hold your lower back and he kisses, framing each of your breasts with rows of feather-light pecks, dancing blossoms of affection. You drop your hands to his hair as you let out a breath of satisfaction, tangling your fingers in the curls as his mouth rises.

The whine of your name that leaves your lips is met with his hands tightening, fingers almost curling into the flesh of your back. His kisses turn eager, frantic, crossing the mounds of each of your breasts. His hands leave you to pull his shirt over his head and it’s too much all at once: too much to see, feel, know. You can’t take it in before he’s kissing you again, less than kind as his arms pull your bare chests flush.

Your fingers explore new terrain, which is littered with freckles and white, years-old scars that stretch over his alabaster skin, each one a story that you hope he will tell you one day.

“Eddie,” you pant. He returns the sentiment, breathing your name over and over into your mouth as he sits back down and pulls you into his lap.

The rough of his slacks sends an unfamiliar jolt up your spine when your hips meet his. In the heat of the moment he’s pulling at you a little rough but your gasp draws him out.

“You good?”

“Just… Slow down,” you tell him, resting back on your heels with your hands on his broad, bare shoulders.

“Sorry,” he says. His face is flushed pink and his dark eyes are drooping. “Want to stop?”

“No,” you respond, too quickly to keep your cool. You shake your head. “No, I just- I’m scared I’ll go too fast. I like you too much.”

“I told you,” he says, moving in with his eyes on you. You nod, almost imperceptibly. He kisses your collarbone and then your shoulder. “I have all the time in the world for you.”

“What if someone catches us?”

He pulls back again and reaches up, moving hair from your face and putting it behind your ears. Tidying you up. Fussing over you. It’s nice.

“I promise that everybody who would even think to come anywhere near this room tonight is gone until at least tomorrow afternoon.” He kisses under your jaw, and it returns the shivers back down your spine. “They’re too busy getting drunk. Nobody’s thinking about us.”

“You promise?”

He kisses your chin. “I promise.”

A few years ago, your father entertained a visitor from one of the bigger cities. They had been on a ship for some years and they brought goods the likes of which you’d never seen before: round, vibrant, sharp fruits, powders that made food taste wildly different, and, your favourite, a small collection of fireworks.

In the light of a small bonfire, your father helped the visitor set the wooden tubes alight. They flew off into the air and sparkled, fizzed, popped. It was a display that you couldn’t help but gawk at, enjoying the sizzles and the colours in the deep January sky.

That’s what this feels like. His lips plotting a map across your bare neck, up over your jaw, until they reach your mouth, it feels like seeing fireworks. You keen into his mouth as he licks across your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth gently before letting go, meeting your tongue with his own. His hands at your back pull you in and that flush returns between your legs. He keeps you moving slowly, a lethargic push and pull across his crotch. The dips and folds of the tough fabric there, paired with the growing hardness beneath, give you a friction that you chase instinctively. It’s coupled with a litany of praises whispered into your skin between kisses, and the combination is clearing your head and sending you dizzy.

“That’s it, you’ve got it,” he coos, “Nice and slow for me, yeah? Just-”

Through drooping lids you watch him, his face scrunching in pleasure as you rock against him. It is not lost on you that this feels just as good for him, but you can tell he’s holding something back.

His face relaxes, and he meets your eye. “Hey.” He nudges your nose with his own and takes a deep breath. “You have to breathe, deep breaths. Doesn’t feel half as good if you stop breathing, promise.”

You let out a sigh and a twinkling giggle and he smiles, wide enough that you can see his dimples. He continues showering you with sweet praises, urging you towards oblivion. Look at you. I don’t even need to tell you what to do. You’re so beautiful.

“Fuck- My god.”

The pace quickens as you chase the abyss. His hands don’t move, keeping you anchored to him, moving you back and forth. It’s bliss like you’ve never felt; your own hand could never get you this far. The friction of his pants between your thighs is perfect and your need is ferocious as your stomach winds like a coil.

“C’mon,” he encourages, “You can do it. You’re doing such a good job, c’mon-”

You fall forwards and rest your forehead on his shoulder, whimpering something desperate into his neck as your stomach tenses and bends. Please, Eddie, please, please, please.

A white-hot light sears the darkness behind your eyelids as you come apart for him. He’s calling you all sorts of filthy things but you can barely hear him, brain too occupied by the burning in your belly and his hands, which are seemingly everywhere all at once.

“Good girl,” he whispers into your hairline. He scatters kisses there as you catch your breath.

“Thank you,” you sigh. “Thank you.”

He laughs and you feel it reverberate through his chest.

As you slouch into him, feeling returning to each limb, you feel a foreign yearning in your gut, a relentless feeling that prompts you to squirm. Wriggling, your restless hands paw at his arms and his back and they move lower, until you meet the waistband of his slacks.

You whine into his neck when he won’t move to accommodate your impatience. His hands lure you back from your resting place so he can look at you, with your kiss-swollen lips and happy eyes.

“I need to know that you want this,” he whispers. He rests your foreheads together, the tip of his nose nudging yours.

All you can do is whine. You’re too elated to care to form words, but Eddie’s not having it.

“I need to hear you say it,” he tells you sternly. His eyes do not betray him: they’re steely and suddenly darker than ever.

You dip your head to kiss his jaw, nosing at his cheek, lips and teeth dragging along his skin.

“I want you, Eddie,” you tell him. His fingers tighten at the nape of your neck and pull you back, gentle but firm, as he watches you speak through obsidian eyes. “Please.”

He says nothing as he gives you one more kiss, soft as anything to the pillows of your lips, before helping you off his lap and laying you between the pillows at the head of your bed. You curl up there, the breeze colder still against the wetness between your thighs, which you squeeze together as you watch him stand.

He’s all lean muscle and long limbs. You let yourself gawk for the first time since that night on the balcony; you usually have to ration your glances at him, and he’s always covered by so many layers, so you allow yourself this luxury.

He knows you’re watching, so he makes a little show of it, bending down to get rid of the slacks. Before he does, you notice that the brown has deepened around his crotch with the stains of your pleasure. Acknowledging this makes you shiver, and though you feel you should be disgusted, it’s oddly comforting instead.

When he looks over at you, finally bared and unflinching, he takes a moment to take you in.

You’re still glowing, perhaps more so than before. Some of your hair is stuck to your face, plastered there in the heat of your first orgasm, but the rest of it is laid out around your head like a halo. It’s unfair that you can be so casually magnificent. You’re also not looking at him - well, not meeting his eye, anyway. The tip of your index finger is between your teeth as you take in the sight before you, Eddie as hard as he’s ever been, just for you.

“You sure about this?” he asks.

You look up at his face and break out in a grin. “Absolutely.”

He’s slower than you want, leaning over you, his knees on the comforter beside you, mouth lazy as he gives you kisses. You take and take, happy under his touch.

His hands are everywhere again. Your skin is on fire, aflame from the praise and the affection and the attention. The sensation of being so close to another person while naked like this is achingly unfamiliar but learning it is nice, new, natural. Though it’s nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced before, you’re finding that you like it. You like smoothing your hands over his back, feeling the dips and peaks of his muscles there, or around to the slight pudge of his stomach, just above a thatch of hair similar to your own. You like the feeling of his palms on your shoulders, down your arms, across your waist. You like that when he kisses you, you feel the nudge of his nose beside yours. You like that he appears breathless to you, like your kisses are preferable to air, especially when he becomes restless and impatient.

Above you, his hand moves south, fingers burying their way between your legs. Without realising it, you’ve been squeezing them together, desperate for any relief you can find, but his fingers are certainly better. They push your knees apart so that he can climb into your space, his waist framed by your thighs, the weight of him crashing into you as he dips again to kiss you silly. You wind your arms around his neck and pull him in, enjoying the proximity rather than fleeing from it, and feeling desperate without shame.

One hand hooks under your thigh while the other plants firmly on the mattress beside your head.

“You ready?”

You nod. “Yes.”

“I’m going to go slow,” he tells you, his lips moving against yours lest he get too far away. “Just tell me if you want to stop, please?”

“Yes,” you pant, “Yes, of course, please-”

The hand beneath your thigh escapes and he holds himself as you wind your arms under his, around his chest, pulling him in tight.

It’s definitely slow. A slow, tantalising push between your thighs, filling that gaping yearning within your gut. He’s big, though it barely takes you by surprise because of course he is.

He’s panting, biting his lip above you. “Fuck-” he gasps, “Shit- You okay?”

You nod as fervently as you can because words are escaping you and all you can think about is him, hovering over you, pushing into you, breathing your air and nudging your cheek.

“You feel- You feel so good,” he breathes, pushing further. You nod in agreement and tug him closer still, until he’s in as far as he can go, filling you to the hilt.

The proximity dazzles you as you open your eyes and examine his face. The scrunch between his brows, the freckles across his crooked nose, his teeth biting firm into his lip. It feels only natural to lean up and plot a path of kisses across the hills of his face, bright, happy kisses that relax him until he can kiss you back. He lets the weight of his body fall into yours, keeping some pressure on his arm so as not to crush you entirely, but the feeling of closeness is too comfortable for him to forego.

He speaks into the flesh of your cheek when he says, “I’m going to start moving, okay?”

“Yes,” you pant, and he does, pulling slowly away before pushing back. The friction of the movement over your clit adds to the swelling feeling of fullness each time he returns to you, and the pleasure is almost overwhelming. You take heavy breaths until they become moans, matched by his own noises. Your head is empty and all you want to do is become him; being here, underneath him, is never quite enough. Instead you wish you could, in this moment, under the stars and the moon and wrapped in the night breeze, merge with your knight and stay here forever.

Your lazy daydreams are interrupted when he groans and mutters some kind of praise into your hairline: You’re doing so well. Fuck, so good. And then, to your surprise, you feel his free hand traverse the expanse of your body, between the two of you, over the hill of your stomach until the pads of his fingers find your clit.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Perhaps you haven’t melted together, but this somehow got even better. His cock moves just as quick as he draws lucid circles with his middle and ring fingers over you. He kindles the flame like an expert as his mouth drops kisses messily across your own lips. That’s it: everything is messy, lazy, desperate. He moves and kisses and whispers please, come on, come for me, are you okay? I know you can do it, you feel so good, you’re beautiful.

The hot wire returns. It burns as it coils, tighter and tighter around an abyss in your gut, tugging on each limb like you might implode and become a black hole right here in your bed.

“Eddie, oh my god-”

“Come on.”

“Unngh- It feels s- So good-”

“Come on, sweetheart.”

His movements never relent as you come, the wire burning out in a white-hot bang. You yelp, moaning his name, and he keeps going through it all, kissing you silly all over your face. It’s only when you start to squirm that he slows, brings his busy hand out from between the two of you and smiles. He allows himself a moment to watch you, face lax and mouth agape, sweaty brow and hair a mess, before he taps your hollow cheek with his knuckles.

You open heavy eyes to look back at him and watch as he smirks down at you and brings two messy fingers to his mouth. He’s still inside you and he feels it, the way you squeeze him just slightly as he tastes you on his tongue, making a little show of it for you. He hears you gasp, panting like a dog, and even the moan that leaves you when he pulls his fingers free and they glisten in the low light. “Holy shit,” you breathe, and he breaks out in a grin before he can stop himself. “Holy shit, Eddie.”

“Happy?” he asks.

“Happy? Fuck yeah, I’m happy.”

His laughter is deep and loud, a rumble from his chest that makes you grin back at him.

“What about you?” you ask, eyes drooping again, bringing the back of your hand to your forehead. It burns there, like you have a fever. You must look a state.

“I’m more than happy,” he says, smiling. “You up for a little more?

You look at him. “Hm?”

“I, uh… I’m hard as a fuckin’ rock,” he admits, flushing, “And you… You feel so good, and I’d like to… Y’know.”

He feels bad for a second when your eyes widen and you look down quickly. “Oh, Eddie, shit, did you not- Oh my god, I’m so selfish, are you okay?”

Your hands are everywhere all of a sudden, pawing at his arms and his chest, your fawning interrupted by another bellowing laugh. When you giggle back, he winces, feeling it in the way your body pulls him tighter.

“I’m fine,” he assures you, “But I want to try something.”

“Of course,” you say.

“You sure you’re okay to keep going?”

“Yes,” you sigh, “I want to help you, I want you to feel good too.”

“Hold on, then,” he says, threading an arm between your back and the sweat-damp mattress. You wind your arms back around his neck and yelp when he swings you around, all the while keeping his cock firmly inside your walls.

“Fuck,” you splutter, planting your hands either side of his head.

He likes this view. Your face hovering over his, your knees either side of his waist. He holds you by the hips, feeling the curves and dips, pushing impatient fingers into the flesh at the base of your back.

“God, you are gorgeous,” he says. He likes this view, too, watching you flush and bat your eyelashes, made nervous under his gaze and by his lovely, genuine words.

“Not too bad yourself,” you respond, smiling, lifting one hand to push curls from his warm face.

This feeling is new but it’s lovely. Gravity pulls you onto him and it feels as though he’s somehow even deeper than before. His hands at your ass fist at the flesh there and he tells you he’s going to help you, that you may be worn out and that’s okay, and as he helps you lift yourself upwards, you get the hang of it.

You plant your hands firmly on the expanse of his chest and drop yourself down before pushing yourself back up again. It helps to sit upright so you do, letting him hold you and watch you and god, his face is a picture.

He’s scrunching his nose again, eyes tight as he huffs each time you drop onto him. He’s droopy and blissful as you move up and down, circling your hips just a bit, letting him guide you. It burns after so long but it’s nothing compared to the warmth in your chest watching him near the edge. His stomach tenses, the muscles flexing between your thighs, as his breathing becomes more ragged. And suddenly his arms come up your back and pull you down flush and inside your walls, his cock sits as far in as he can push it. You feel him stiffen and shudder and the warmth as he comes inside, hugging you close, his forehead on your shoulder.

He warns you as he pulls out, and then you lie still, spent, limbs going soft together. The sky is a pale blue-green now, the sun soon to cross the horizon. You can hear birds, and the soft morning light coats your skin in a kind of effervescent glow.

Eddie’s breathing lulls you into a doze, but after a short while he stirs. The space between your core and his is sticky and damp and it’s uncomfortable for a short moment, until he tells you quietly that he’s going to get up and get a rag. He moves you softly onto your back and you sigh, a happy, contented sound, watching him move around your space so comfortably.

He returns from the water basin with a damp cloth, cleaning the remnants of your night from between your legs. You wince when he does, only because you’re tired and sore and the cloth is cold, but he apologises and kisses the inside of your knee.

“Eddie?”

He’s at the basin again, rinsing the rag. “Mhm?”

“Do you really think everyone will be gone until the afternoon?”

You catch him smiling at your question, like he knows what’s coming.

“If you want to play it safe, lets say noon.”

“And what time is it now?”

He looks over to the clock, which sits above your mantlepiece, ticking softly.

“Early,” is all he says. “Early enough.”

“Stay with me?”

He drops the rag over the side of the basin and pads over to you. The mattress dips as he rejoins you, this time lifting your sheets to bury the two of you beneath them.

“I told you,” he says quietly, kissing the peak of your shoulder and pulling you in, his arm around your waist, “I have all the time in the world for you.”

-

The castle is bustling. People rush here and there, carrying armfuls of floral arrangements, buckets of wine, heaving plates of food. Your home is lively and noisy and your mother is pacing, directing the placement of each bouquet and chair.

In your chamber, the noise seems far away. Your maids finish tying your corset and your shoe ribbons before filtering off to complete other tasks. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror above your fireplace. Red really is your colour.

There’s a resolute knock at your door. The maids stand to attention and move out of your way as your knight pushes the doors open and you step through to the hall.

“Thank you, Dustin,” you say to him.

Your new knight, a replacement both for Eddie and for the man who took his place all those months ago, bows kindly at your regards. He’s young, younger than yourself and Eddie, but keen and worthy and you’re more than happy.

And then he appears, your beacon, a gorgeous vision of handsome beauty.

Eddie, Ser Munson, your knight. Or, rather, your former knight. He’s been promoted to fiancé.

He stands at the top of the stairs, looking back at you like you hung the stars. To him, you may as well have. You are all he has eyes for now, especially now, after giving up his duties and telling your father: Your daughter is my true and only duty.

“My god,” he breathes. You step over to him, too giddy to maintain any air of grace or class. Your step is more like skipping, your love for him giving you far too much energy to merely walk to him.

He holds his arm for you and you take it, leaning up on tip-toes to give him a chaste kiss to the cheek.

“How do you do it?” he says in a low voice, dipping his head so you can hear him as the two of you descend the stairs, Dustin in step behind you.

You’re smiling while you cling to his arm. “Hm?”

“How do you keep getting more beautiful?”

“Just think, Munson,” you say in a whisper, “By the time we’re one hundred, think of how beautiful I’ll be by then.”

“I dread to think,” he says sarcastically, squeezing your arm with his. You look up at him and the noise and fervour of the castle falls away. He looks back down at you and smiles, and it’s truly the only thing that matters.

The engagement party, your sisters, your parents, your birthright - what is any of it for, what does any of it mean, when you have the one thing you ever wanted?

-

author’s note  Hey! Thanks for reading (or scrolling all this way). It's been so long since I uploaded my last fic and I’ve been lurking ever since - I miss u all but there isn’t really any room in my life for writing anymore. I have loved doing this and thank you all so so much for reading everything! I’ll be about, so the blog will stay and you can read whatever you want whenever you want. I love ya, I’ll miss ya, see ya l8r!

[eddiesdaydream]

Chapter 2: Au coeur des ténèbres

Part 2 of Words are Futile Devices- A Steddie x Reader Call Me By Your Name AU

Summary: As some weird feelings come to light, you begin questioning your initial opinion of your two guests

cw: some suggestive content, reader's vivid smutty imagination. reader is a bit less of a cunt, brief description of insecurities (nothing too detailed), slut shaming if you squint, kissing, a lot of internal angst, overall a lot of words I'm sorry

word count: 3k

author's notes: I'm so sorry for the wait, but its here!!!

Heart of Darkness laid in your lap as you sat in your father’s study. Eddie typed away at his desk, while Steve looked at some old archeology dissertations from past students. You were often forced to sit in and listen to the guest’s nonsensical jumble of words and phrases in an attempt to sound smart. 

You had been scolded by your father twice for trying to interact with Eddie, who seemed laser- focused on the parchment in front of him, the metallic clicking of the keys of the typewriter in the faint background of the stuffy old study. Giovanna had come by twice with a pitcher full of apricot juice from the garden, which the two had gulped down without giving much thought. You saw the way the juice dribbled down Eddie’s chin, how he lifted his thumb to clean off the mess, then wiped his finger on his black cutoff shirt and proceeded to continue typing. His fingers flexed and tensed in between typing, thick and sturdy as he stretched and massaged the palm of his hand with his ringed fingers. 

Steve sat on the dark green couch, legs spread, his shorts riding up, up, up bunching at the crease between his thighs and his groin. One of his legs bounced as he reviewed case studies, artifact pictures, lip trapped in between his pearly teeth. 

There wasn’t a whisper of a breeze, or a draft, but you shivered nonetheless. The two could’ve been patronizing and condescending, but that didn’t take away from the fact that you saw the way their skin, not yet tan from the sunlight, rippled with sweat at each whisper of a movement in the stuffy study. Steve’s leg bounced as he studied the pictures projected on the walls, his already short shorts riding up with each jump of his leg, exposing more and more of his thigh, you blushed. 

This charged silence broke once Steve opened his mouth. He held up another glass full of apricot juice. 

“What’s apricot in Italian again?” he asked, wiping remnants of juice from his chin. 

“Albicocca” your father said, smiling. He went on a rant about the etymology of the word, which you really couldn’t care about. A fun little rehearsed bit he did every year, the students’ impressed faces beamed up the stuffy study. 

“If I can beg your pardon, what you said is slightly wrong” it was Eddie. Surprise tinged your face in hearing him speak up. In the two days that you’ve known him his vocabulary was littered with grateful praises and quiet musings, here it had a slight tinge of pride. 

“It’s uh— actually the Greek etymology for apricot comes from Latin. It’s praecoquum, then praecox, then precokia and then we get the Arab al- barquq— albicocca” he mused in a butchered italian, but all you could hear in his observations is just cock, cock, cock. He sounded nervous delivering his lecture, almost as if he was scared of getting kicked out for defying an authority of mind like your father.

Instead, he looked at him with an impressed smile, and Eddie blushed a bit. Steve delivered a friendly pat on the boy’s shoulder.

Not as lucky as many. 

Later that day, when Steve stole your friends for a volleyball game on your lawn, you watched his sweaty body, clad in a blue swimsuit, shoulders flexing and shining in the early afternoon sunlight jump up and duck down along with the worn ball that keeps jumping between both sides of the net. 

Eddie sat on the lawn, in the shade. His pearly complexion having acquired just the most undetectable sheen of red that threw the boy in a panicked frenzy earlier that morning. He was sorting through loose pages of what appears to be his manuscript. 

“Why aren’t you playing instead of staring at me?” his head perked up from the typed up pages, and you could feel yourself heat up. Not even the sun could hide the tinge of pink that colored your cheeks. 

“I could say the same thing about you” you stammered out, snippy and embarrassed. 

All he could do was chuckle as he motioned his papers towards the book you had ignored sitting in your lap. “I like that book. Heart of Darkness? One of the few books I actually liked when I was in English Lit in high school” he smiled. A smile that seemed genuine, much different than the courteous smiles he had reserved for your mom and dad. 

“And that was when the dinosaurs still roamed the Earth?” you curled your nose. 

A sardonic laugh escaped the boy. 

“Very funny. And how old are you again?” he scooted his butt closer to you, his loose papers now forgotten on the lawn. The proximity made you a bit nervous. 

“Twnety-one” you breathed out “I wouldn’t give you any less than fifty- six” you nudged his shoulder and he laughed. 

“Shouldn’t you be at some snooty college party right now? I dunno, traveling the world with some sorority sister?”

“And miss this gorgeous sight to behold?” your tone dripped of sarcasm as you pointed at Steve, mid jump into grabbing the ball.

Right as you said that Steve missed, ending up on the grass, a pained moan followed. Eddie isn’t given any time to answer you, stopping in his tracks and to run and pick up his friend to escort him where you were. You couldn’t care less about the physical ineptitude of your guest— if there wasn’t any blood or bones sticking out it wasn’t worth worrying. 

“Pass me some water, please?” asked Eddie.. You complied, rolling your eyes as he began kneading the injured boy’s shoulder. He hissed at the first swipes of the long- haired boy’s hands— big and firm. You let down a short swallow. 

“Steve you’re tight— you stressed?” Eddie asked, squeezing the juncture between the boy’s neck and shoulder. 

“I’m fine Ed” he smiled up at the boy, but instead of moving, Eddie dug his fingers deeper into the golden flesh of the honey- eyed boy. 

“Here, feel” he grabbed your hand and placed it on Steve’s warm shoulder— firm and freckled, still wet with sweat. “Isn’t he a bit tight?” Much to your shock you retreated your hand, but the feeling of the smoothness of his tan skin seemed to be encased in the fiber of the palm of your hand. 

“Yeah, I guess” you muttered, going back to Heart of Darkness. 

Dissatisfied with your curt and cold response, Eddie had your friend Chiara feel the back of the injured boy, whose fingers seemed to linger along Steve’s back for long, almost mapping every mole and mark to store in her mind for later. She was an artist, and an artist’s eye was never wrong. 

Steve smiled at the girl, and in return she giggled. Once she left you closed the book in your lap once again. 

“Careful, she’s gonna try to draw you naked” you teased Steve, whose eyes seemed to be glued on the way your friend scampered around the lawn. 

“Like I’m complaining” he retorted with a cheeky smile, and that made you feel weird. 

What did she have that you didn’t? Why didn’t he look at you like that?

You cursed the way you seemed to act too much like a grown up, the way you took yourself too seriously to even participate in a dumb volleyball game. 

Maybe you should’ve played. 

Taking your towel and your book with you, you made your way back into the house, almost stomping in protest, at the way the honey- eyed boy didn’t seem to spare you a cheeky smile or a wandering eye. Didn’t matter that they both seemed like two idiots who only cared about getting the experience from your father’s expertise, exploiting and squeezing the knowledge out of the overripe peach of his brain, which seemed to become less and less awake with every year that passed. 

You disliked the way that Steve seemed to want to make a pass at each and every one of your friends, and them letting him. With his rude and pushy American ways of wanting to make everything his, his property, his Don John-ish manners that made him expect something from everyone he came into contact with. 

You hated Eddie’s arrogance in his surveying and picking your brain, making the six year difference between you two seem like a chasm, with his snobbish knowledge of literally every book that sat on your bookcase. Fingers rubbing his stubbly, boyish chin as he examined each and every shelf, spine, title. He always seemed to have something to say with you, wanting to prove himself to the whole world, confirm that he wasn’t just some trailer trash who had finally made it out of the few acres of overpopulated land. You could not remotely fathom how those two were so close together, coming from such different backgrounds. 

However, as you tried to silently beg for Steve and Eddie’s attention, that was seemingly anywhere else but on you, like an old, neglected dog, you seemed to realize that, in some twisted sort of way, you wanted to fall victim to their charm. 

Like many of your friends did, much bolder, some older, and more confident than you had been, in the past years, not hesitating to pounce on your guests with hunger similar to a hyena. The hunger of a repressed teenage girl who had just reached adulthood, craving everything that came with it– even risque summer romances with men who had traveled around the sun for much longer than they had. Throwing their plump, glowing bodies on the dance floor around the sturdy necks of your father’s students. With every year that passed, you could not escape the vicious circle of your giggling friends, who competed over who would get to lure your guests into their greedy grasp first, and you’d all hear about it the morning after. 

You’d heard about gorgeous but incredibly incapable men, well- endowed, but short, much older and more experienced. There was something about their stories, the lightheartedness in their laughs, as if playing with these men’s hearts and minds had become a game, that made you feel like a different person. Coming home and contemplating on leaving the communicating bathroom door open, so that your guest could catch you sleeping on your stomach without any shorts on, or adjusting your swimsuit at the pool right as they passed by to read on the lawn. You never brought yourself to act upon these contemplations, too scared of what your father might have thought of you, and rather, delighting yourself in tormenting your guests as a way to cope with a feeling of inadequacy that seemed to swell with each year that passed.

Ever since Steve and Eddie had arrived– young, attractive, and most peculiar thing of all, there were two of them– your friends could not stop arguing about which boy would have fallen in the arms of your friends. Anna had gushed about seeing Steve’s dick through his tiny, blue swimming shorts earlier that day during a game of volleyball, escalating into a conversation that hours later could not seem to leave your mind, as you sat on one of the lawn chairs of the balcony. 

You had not entered your room, afraid your restlessness might have woken the two boys. Nursing a cigarette in between the intrusive thoughts of whether Anna was right. Had she already claimed her prize? A part of you stung at the thought that not even four days into their stay, your friends had already gotten their slimy hands on your guests. A different part had wanted it to be you to have received such attention from the honey- eyed boy. Would he have been attentive and careful? Or full of passion and bravado, much like how he’d presented himself to you since he’d arrived? 

“This seat taken?” Steve had startled you. The irony. 

You heard him let out a whiff of air, like a muted laugh “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He sat down on the wicker chair next to you, without waiting for your permission. He took in the still night air that had oftentimes brought you counsel, accompanied by the melody of the night cicadas. 

“Can’t sleep?” he mused, playing with the woven wicker on the arm of the chair. 

“Didn’t wanna wake you guys up” Your dry response was accompanied by a lazy drag off the half- finished cigarette. Steve reached an arm out in your direction, you took the hint. 

“I was downstairs finishing some work for your dad, the jet lag still keeps me up” you watched his lips wrap around the cigarettes, right where your mouth had been just seconds before. Your breath hitched at the realization as he let out the smoke from his mouth, slow and deliberate. 

“So, uh, you and Anna? I heard you guys had a thing going on” you passed him the ashtray on the small table next to you as he shook the ash off the cigarette and brought it back to his mouth. 

He shook his head, “She’s your friend?” he asked, sardonically, turning away from you to look into the distant trees. 

“Not really, rumors travel fast around here” you tried to keep your mouth shut, but something inside you just pushed you to intervene, to let him know that she was certainly not good for him. “And she also has a reputation,” you added, gulping. 

He put out the cigarette in the ashtray, fixing his glasses on the bridge of his nose and sat back on the wicker seat “Is that so?” A smirk adorned his face, almost as if he didn’t believe a word you were saying. 

You nodded, heating up a bit at the way his legs spread and his shorts rode up his legs “She gets around” You avoided his gaze, looking at Giovanna downstairs in the garden, finishing up her last chores for the night. 

“Never stopped me before” he retorted, shrugging. The sour look on your face only made his sly smile slice his face further. 

“By the way your nose is curled up I’d say you’re jealous” he laughed, standing up. You heated up at the– very correct and very obvious– observation. 

“I am not” you retorted, maybe a little bit more upset than you should’ve been at his dig, standing up abruptly.

“What is it then?” he inched closer to you. You could smell the remnants of the cigarette on his breath. You felt your eyes widen and your throat close up “You’re envious of your friends getting more attention than you? Am I supposed to feel bad for you because you feel inferior to them? Maybe if you stopped being a bitch to everyone that crossed your path you’d get laid too” With each stinging sentence the boy got closer and closer to you, his chest almost touching yours, and with each dig you swelled up with anger. Why was he treating you like this all of a sudden? 

Deserved? Sure. You had been nothing but a raging cunt to him since his arrival, but his words seemed to intend to cut deeper than that. 

However, instead of hurting you, his words only revved you even further, wanting most of all, to shut up his nonsensical attack against you. 

You watched his heated expression as he stopped his ranting, leaning on the railing of your balcony. 

“Well? Nothing to say for yourself?” he muttered, his voice much lower than his previous scolding. You couldn’t say anything, inside you were fighting demons you had only heard of from your friends. You were panting as if you had run a marathon, but to him, you were just a child throwing a tantrum. 

He scoffed “Y’know what? Grow up” he laughed, before motioning to turn around. Something in your chest pulled you towards him. The need to become more like your friends, that had lied dormant as you had awaited to provocatively lure your guests into your room, had been nudged. 

As Steve walked away heatedly, closing the door to his room, you imagined grabbing his shoulder with strength you didn’t know you had and spin him around before crashing his lips onto his. 

Kissing him with a hunger that was only for you to satiate. Needing to feel yourself bloom out of a cage that you’d put yourself in because you took yourself too seriously. You imagined exploring his sturdy, tanned body. 

As you got ready for bed, peeking your face into your guests’ room, where Steve had fallen asleep without changing out of his clothes. You imagined slipping your hands under his billowy shirt, as his hands gripped your waist so tightly that his fingers could have left marks in their wake. Slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, feel the softness of the skin underneath, scratching it with his fingernails. 

You thought about intentionally upsetting him, just to have him that close to you again. You thought about his reaction to your tongue making its way into his mouth, licking and tasting his lips, his gums, his tongue. Wanting him to have access to you, to look at you. To peek his head into your room to find you asleep on your stomach, wanting him to see your scrunched up face as you transcribed your music, leaning against a tree as you read. Swimming with your friends, but only staring at you, at the way the water would drip off your body, at the way you would look while suntanning. 

A devious thought pervaded you as you imagined both of your guests fighting to have you. Fighting to look at you. Fighting for your attention. 

You laid in bed, drunk on the vivid images of your body undulating in between the two boys, heated and needy like you’d never been before.

Thank you for reading!! Feedback is much appreciated <3

tagging: @littlexdeaths, @strangerstilinski, @aphrogeneias, @usergeta, @rebelfell, @ali-r3n, @thornsnvultures , @jamdoughnutmagician , @take-everything-you-can, @aol19 , @eddiesghxst , @myspacebrat , @xxbimbobunnyxx , @cryingglightningg , @lavendermunson , @freak-of-hawkins , @eddiesdaydream , @sidereustales

[eddiesdaydream]

vi. for you, there'll be no more crying

summary: things change between you and eddie for the better cw: SMUT, unprotected piv, a fight with rick, eddie recounts what happened to him last year a/n: it's happening!!!!

It’s been almost a month since you’ve seen Eddie Munson.

As you lay in bed after a long day of clinicals, your fingertips and toes still cold from the January snow nipping at them in your school uniform. The blizzard that hit at the beginning of the week left several feet of snow all across Indiana, leaving an appropriate setting for the way you’ve been feeling as of late.

Because you should be at the Munson’s today. You should have been at the Munson’s just about every day since the last time you saw them. But, unexpectedly, you’d been told that you wouldn’t be needed anymore, at least for a little while. It wasn’t a reassuring statement in the least. 

You’d took it as maybe just a couple of days, but as February draws closer, you’re starting to feel as if you’d never see your two favorite men ever again.

You didn’t know for sure, but you had a feeling as to why you’d been asked not to come back. It was…embarrassing to think about. You’ve been kicking yourself ever since it happened. 

That night on new years when you and Eddie kissed. Accident or not, it felt like the fireworks outside were going off behind your eyelids. Never have you ever felt so…so…connected to someone just from a kiss. And you were certain by the way Eddie was looking at you that he was feeling it, too.

But, now…Maybe he wasn’t red from enjoyment. Maybe it was from disgust.

You didn’t get much time to dwell on it, though. Because immediately after the phone rang, police chief Hopper calling for Eddie. It scared you to see Eddie’s face drop the way it did. You had a sinking feeling it had to do with Wayne. But when Eddie asked you to take him home right away, it left you confused. 

He wouldn’t tell you anything. Not even budging a little bit. 

“It’s not bout Wayne. He’s fine.” 

That’s the extent of information that you were given.

The next day is when Wayne called, reluctantly telling you that you didn’t need to come out for a while. They were having family issues and Wayne was going to be home to take care of him, so you didn’t have to bother with them.

You tried to argue. Tried to tell them that you would come out just to cook and keep them company if need be, but Wayne was insistent that you don’t make the drive out. At least not until they tell you it’s okay. You finally agreed, but it didn’t feel good. Especially since it didn’t make sense.

Eddie and Wayne made it very clear that they didn’t have any family in town. Eddie might have some grandparents in Tennessee, but they’re on his moms side of the family and they’d not heard from them in years. So what kind of family emergency could it possibly be?

After thinking it through, you’ve come to the conclusion that the phone call from Hopper was unrelated and that Eddie was just using it as an excuse to get rid of you. 

The kiss was clearly too much for him. It had you wondering if there were times where you’d been too unprofessional. Maybe you were supposed to decline their invitations to come over for holidays. They were just being nice asking you to come over, they didn’t actually mean it.

It was even worse when you called on Wayne’s birthday last week. No one answered, so you just left a voicemail, hoping for but not getting a call back. 

And, to top it all off, your clinicals were being held at Hawkins General. Their short staff made the need for help greater than any of the other hospitals around right now, so a lot of the workers there were working past their limits. You’d only just started this week and already felt like you were busting your ass.

The experience you had taking care of Eddie was definitely a help when it came to being more of a help than a hindrance. The patients seemed to really like you, too, which made you feel a little better. Still, you couldn’t help but wish that you were going straight to the Munson’s instead of having to drive all the way home to an empty house after a long day.

Tonya was correct in her suspicions when it came to Charles proposing, so she’d been spending more time with him at his house than at your shared home. It made sense, and you were happy for her. But you still missed having her around to cry on, especially when you were feeling this down.

As you drifted off to sleep, you decided that you were tired of feeling like this. You were going to go to the Munson’s home tomorrow after your clinicals. Even if they turned you away, you wanted to at least apologize for making Eddie feel uncomfortable. You wouldn't be able to go on if you didn’t.

‘If you’re lost, you can look, and you will find mee~” 

You belt Cyndi Lauper as you turn into the entrance of the Munson driveway. You were a little suspicious at the amount of tire tracks that seemed to be going up and down the snowy driveway. Maybe the boys had been coming over to see Eddie?

A sports car you’d not seen before sat in the driveway, taking the spot next to where Wayne normally parks his truck. But it was gone. Wayne wasn’t home, but someone else was here? 

You pulled into Wayne’s spot and threw your car in park. You were getting angrier with each new question you had bubbling up in your head. You walked around to the unfamiliar car, trying to see inside, but it was too dark and the windows were too tinted to see in.

The sound of the front door opening drew your attention, and you almost started yelling then and there when none other than Reefer Rick himself, illuminated by the porch light, stepped off the porch and peered around to see who was there.

“Well hello, nurse,” he called out, putting a cigarette to his lips and lighting it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You round the cars, stomping up to him, the sound of snow crunching under your white sneakers.

“Woah, woah, calm down,” he throws his hands up, the smoke billowing from his lips above your head. “I’m just here to hang out with Eddie while Wayne’s workin’--”

“Wayne’s at work?” You can feel tears starting to form. This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. “Why--,” you sniffle, “Why didn’t he ask me to come out and stay with Eddie?”

“Um, that is because…-Oh! It was, like super, short notice.” He says, nodding unconvincingly. “Yeah, they just really needed him and, uh, he just didn’t think you’d be able to make it out tonight, ya know?”

“Bullshit.”

He looks at you wide eyed, “Wh-what?”

“That’s bullshit, Rick.” You stand your ground, giving him a look that could kill. But he only grew agitated, nostrils flaring as he towered over you.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re thinking you’re going to get for coming out here, but they don’t need you anymore.”

The words hit you like an arrow to the chest. All of your suspicions were right, but you…you just couldn’t accept it from him.

“I want to hear that from Eddie.”

“Tough luck,” Rick says, taking another drag. 

“I don’t need your permission to talk to him.”

“You do when he said he specifically doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

The tears fall, but you remain resolute regardless.

“I’m going to talk to him--hey!” You went to walk around him, but he stepped in front of you to prevent you from going any further. You tried it again, and he only moved once more.

“Damn it, just move!”

“I’m not moving,” he says sternly.

“What is this really about, Rick?” He reels back with disbelief. 

“What are you talking about?” He says, sounding exacerbated. “I’m trying to keep my friend safe and you wont take a hint? Is that what you want me to say?”

“Keep him safe? Safe from what?” You match his confused energy.

“From you!”

“ME?!” You’re pushed over your limit at this point. “Don’t even fucking try it, Rick. I’ll call you out for filth.”

“Do it then! I’d love to hear what you could possibly have to say about me!”

“Okay! How about the fact that Eddie used to be your biggest dealer? And that I know you’ve been trying to get him to deal for you again?”

“Wh-what? Are you actually insane?!”

“I’m not the insane one here! The man is in a fucking wheelchair! I know you bring your drugs over here, I’ve seen them in his sock drawer.”

“Yeah, because he smokes it himself! How the fuck do you think he’s been getting by without his pain meds, dumbass!”

Ricks words took you back. You knew Eddie wasn’t taking his pain medication anymore, but you thought he was doing okay without it. You didn’t realize it was because he was using weed to feel better.

“I’ve also not been selling it to him. I’ve just been giving him what I can so that the guy above me doesn’t notice. I actually never needed Eddie to sell for me, I’ve just been trying to help the guy out!��

“Oh, don’t try and get all high and mighty. Eddie may not realize it but I know that you have money. Probably from your mommy and daddy.”

Rick is quiet for a moment, the tips of his ears red under the porch light. You knew you’d got him with how long it took for him to respond.

“Listen,” he finally says, his tone much more serious. “Maybe I do have access to money in one way or another, but I’m not going to flaunt it in front of my friend when I know him and Wayne have struggled to keep the lights on. Eddie’s been like a brother to me since he started pestering me as a freshman, and I’ve done what I can to help them out. Things that only stay between Wayne and I, that Eddie doesn’t even know about, if you catch my drift.”

Your eyes go wide and you nod. The feelings you’ve had towards Rick up to this point should make you not believe him, but something about his shift in demeanor has you wanting to be convinced that he’s telling the truth.

“So if you’re understanding where I’m coming from, I think that you should know what I’m going to ask you to do.”

Your head cocks to the side in genuine confusion.

“No, in fact I don’t know. Please tell me.”

Rick rolls his eyes, taking a step closer so that he can speak to you more hushed.

“C’mon, don’t make me do this. Be the better person and just go.”

“Rick, I honest to god don’t have a clue what the fuck you’re talking about. Speak to me in something other than vague threats please.”

He scoffs, leaning down to be at your level. 

“If I give you a check to leave here and never come back, will that satiate your needs?”

You blink hard, trying your best to comprehend whatever bullshit Rick is going on about.

“Rick,” you say with a sharp exhale, “I don’t know why you think I would ever want any of your money or why you think you could pay me enough to stay away from Eddie. But, I’m going to say this only once. I am not interested.”

Rick straightens up, head rolling back in frustration.

“I can’t believe you. Do you, like, get off on taking things from people who are suffering or something?”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not taking anything from anyone!”

“Oh, so you’re meaning to tell me that you’ve just been taking care of Eddie for free this whole time? That Wayne hasn’t been working to keep you around? And now that Eddie doesn’t need you, you’ve come here to try and convince him that he’s still sick so that you can keep getting a check.”

You feel like you’re going insane listening to Rick spout off the made up bullshit that he was spewing at you.

“No! Rick, have you ever even talked to Eddie?! I’ve not taken a single dime from the Munson’s in the last five months that I’ve known them! I was taking care of Eddie through a volunteer program through my school! And when that ended, I agreed to keep taking care of Eddie until he really didn’t need me anymore!”

Rick shakes his head, reeling as he pieces through everything you’ve just told him. It’s quiet for a moment between you two.

“So you’ve really not taken any money from Wayne?”

“No, I have not. Unless you count the times he’s made me food, or bought us all take out. But I don’t ask him to, he always insists.”

His head drops, foot kicking from underneath him.

“Look, I think that we’ve both been…under the wrong impression about each other. I don’t want anything to happen to the Munson’s and I think you don’t want anything to happen to them either.”

“So…we’re on the same page then?” You nod, and Rick laughs. “Well, I’ll be the first to say sorry then. I really thought you were trying to get the little money that they have.”

“And I thought you were trying to get Eddie back into dealing. I’m sorry for thinking that of you.”

“I guess…we’re cool then?”

“I guess so.”

“Cool, well, listen, I know you probably came here to see Eddie. But, I don’t think he would want you to be here right now.”

You frown, unhappy to hear that Rick is still trying to get rid of you.

“I’m sure that he doesn’t, but I really need to talk to him. I just want to clear the air with him and then if he wants nothing to do with me after that…”

“Mmmm, I don’t know what air needs clearing, but Eddie’s being going through some stuff of his own right now. I don’t think its about not wanting to see you…more like he doesn’t want to get you into what he’s got going on.”

You were growing more frustrated with how vague Rick was being. So, instead of wasting more time, you decide to rush past him, heading straight for the front door. But, he didn’t try to stop you. Instead he stood in place, taking a drag of his cigarette as he watches you walk through the front door.

Once inside, you’re greeted by the low hum of music playing from the radio in Eddie’s room, as well as the low murmur of conversation between Eddie and what sounded like Dustin.

Walking down the hall, you stand by the door and peer into the room. Eddie is sitting on the edge of his bed and Dustin is sitting in his chair. They look like they’re looking over a map of some sort and you wonder if it’s one they made for their D and D campaign. 

Your eyes scan over Eddie as he talks. Ever so animated as he points things out, while Dustin, just as animated, retorts something back. He looked a little rougher since the last time you saw him. His hair needed some TLC and the dark circles under his eyes made you wonder if he was getting enough sleep. It pained you to think he was having night terrors without you around to comfort him.

After a moment you decide to knock on the door, causing both boys heads to whip around to face you. Dustin smiles upon seeing you, a kneejerk reaction that he has anytime he’s not seen you for a while. Eddie’s reaction isn’t as sweet, his eyes practically bugging out of his head when he realizes that it’s you in his doorway.

“What are you doing here?” He asks coldly. He didn’t seem at all happy to see you and it hurt.

“I’m here to see you, Eddie.” You take a step inside his room, but Eddie reaches a hand out to stop you.

“You need to leave. Now.” He says in a tone that he’s never spoken with you before. You feel tears starting to well up in your eyes, but you do your best to hold them back.

“No,” you say firmly, “Eddie, we need to talk.”

“I know,” he says with a sigh, hand running through his tangled hair. “I know, but…I promise you that we’ll talk, it just can’t be today.”

“Why not?” You feel that you’re borderline petulant sounding, but you don’t know if you can wait any longer now that he’s here in front of you.

“Tonight…just isn’t a good night.”

The sound of the phone ringing catches you off guard. Dustin jumps up from Eddie’s chair and bolts past you to the kitchen. His weird behavior and Eddie’s resistance have you feeling on edge.

“Is everything okay?” You ask concerned.

“Honestly, not really,” Eddie says exasperated. “That’s why I need you to go. I really can’t risk you being here with what’s going on.”

“Eddie, it sounds like you’ve gotten yourself into something dangerous. Does Rick have something to do with--”

“No, it’s nothing to do with Rick. Well, he’s involved now, but he didn’t have to be. But, you’re right, it is dangerous. That’s why you need to go home. I promise you that if everything goes how it’s supposed to, I will call you tomorrow and we can talk about whatever it is that you want to talk about.”

“Whatever it is that I want to talk about? Eddie, what I want to talk about has been eating me alive for the last month. I’ve been worried sick about you, you know.”

“And I’m so sorry, but I really need one more night to get what is going on taken care of and then I’ll--”

“EDDIE! SHE’S UP! THEY SAID SHE’S UP!”

Eddie moves himself into his chair so quickly that you almost miss it. He starts to roll toward you and you side step out of the way to let him pass. Dustin is standing in the living room and Rick was standing at the entry way chewing on his thumb nail.

“I gotta get over there, like, now,” Dustin says in frustration.

“Absolutely not,” Eddie says, pointing at Dustin.

“I’ll take you,” Rick says, pulling his keys from his pocket.

“Rick, no--”

“Eddie, they need me! Just wait here and keep playing your music! I’ll be fine!”

“Dustin, you know what almost happened to me! There’s no way I’m letting you go and get yourself killed!”

“I’m not going to be killed! We know what we need to do to stop him, and they’re going to need me there to make sure that everything goes smoothly. They’re fighting a boss without any support!

“Then I’m going, too!”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Rick says, waving his hands. “I can’t fit your wheelchair in my trunk anyway. 

“Fucking damn it,” Eddie curses, hands banging against the armrests of his wheelchair. 

“She’s already here, you might as well tell her what’s been going on now,” Dustin says motioning towards you.

“That would really be appreciated!” You say with exhaustion, more confused now than ever.

“Alright, kid, get your shit and let’s go,” Rick says opening the front door. Dustin rushes into the kitchen and grabs a duffel bag with a baseball bat handle sticking out of the zipper.

Just as Dustin is about to run out the door, he stops. Turning to face you, he pauses for a moment.

“Whatever you do, don’t answer the door.”

And with that, he leaves. Only you and Eddie remain.

It’s quiet after you hear Rick take off in his car besides the sound of music still coming from Eddie’s room. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Eddie finally takes a deep breath, letting it out before finally speaking.

“Do you still have cassettes in your car?”

The question throws you for a moment, but you nod in response.

“Yeah, I have a few. Why?”

“Go get your favorite one and bring it back in here.”

You didn’t understand why he would ask you to do this, but his serious tone made you take the few steps towards the door. The frigid air hits you once again as you run out to your car. Rummaging through the cassettes you have, you pull out Rumors and run back into the house. 

“What is all of this about, Eddie?” You ask. You walk up to him and the takes the cassette from your hand, smirking when he sees what it is.

“You and Wayne and your tastes in music.” 

It made you happy to see him smile. It’s felt like eons since you’ve last seen it. 

Eddie wordlessly rolls down the hall and you follow behind him. You watch as he pops out the cassette and places it in the case. It’s the one you got him for Christmas. He then replaces it in the player with your Rumors cassette and presses play. Once Second Hand News begins to play, he finally looks at you directly. Your name leaves his lips with a slight shakiness.

“There’s something going on that I really didn’t want you to be involved with. Something that…frankly, I don’t know if you’re even going to believe me when I tell you.”

“Try me,” you say, sitting down on his bed, giving him your full attention.

“Okay, so,” he starts, his hands already fidgeting with the rings on his fingers. “You know how I’ve been telling you bits and pieces about what happened to me last year?” You nod. “Well, I’ve sort of been…well, not really lying. But maybe only telling you half truths.”

Eddie then proceeds to tell you what actually happened to him last year. He tells you about an alternate dimension that exists under ours, that is an almost identical copy of what our world looks like. 

“Well, I’ve really only seen Hawkins, so I can’t say it’s the same everywhere. But, it’s a carbon copy of this town frozen in time.”

“Frozen in time?” You ask.

“Yeah, it’s stuck on the day that Will went missing a few years ago.”

“Will went missing?”

“Back in ‘83. It was this big thing where he went missing, then they found his body, but it wasn’t actually his body. Then he came back and people started calling him Zombie Boy.”

“Okay,” is all you can say as you try and wrap your head around that logic.

“When Will was missing, he was actually in the Upside Down. They were able to get him back, thanks to El.”

“El? Like Jane?” You’d heard the guys call her El before. Eddie nods.

“She has these, like, super powers. Kinda like The Force in Star Wars.”

“So she can lift people with her mind?”

“People, objects, and I guess she has a mind power where she can track people down. I think she used it to help them find Will.”

“How is that even possible?” You feel like Eddie’s barely scratched the surface and you already can barely grasp what he’s told you.

“The government and some experiments that happened a few years ago. They had a lab here in town that was destroyed in the earthquake. Which wasn’t a normal quake, by the way. It was caused by Vecna.”

“Who-na?”

Eddie continues telling you about the events leading up to what happened to him. He fills you in on a monster called the Mind Flayer, about how El lost her powers, then got them back. About how Will is somehow connected to this Upside Down place because of his time there, and how he can sense the presence of it.

“Then…” Eddie stops talking for a moment, looking a bit distraught as he collects his thoughts. “Then…um, one night, last year, there was this girl I went to school with. Her name was Chrissy.”

“Was?” You question. Eddie nods solemnly.

“She, um, asked me to sell her some drugs. I didn’t have on me what she wanted, so I brought her…brought her back to the trailer. It was just me and her, Wayne had already gone to work. I was looking for the drugs she wanted aaaand, uuuh, while I was gone…”

You can see Eddie becoming more uncomfortable as he talks. It breaks your heart to see him like this.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Eddie,” you tell him, hoping that maybe if he skips whatever happened that it would make him less uneasy.

“No, no,” he says, shaking his head, “I-I haven’t really, um, really gotten to talk about it since it happened. I feel like if I do then…” Eddie takes a moment to compost himself, eyes full of tears when he tilts his head up.

“She, um, she was acting weird. Just, standing there, not responding to me. Then, boom.” Eddie lifts his hand up, mimicking it hitting against something above it. “She’s suddenly on the ceiling. As if something was pulling her up by strings. Then her arms and legs…they snapped in ways that aren’t natural. The sounds,” Eddie puts his hands over his ears and leans forwards, eyes wide on the floor. “Then her eyes just popped into her skull. And her jaw…”

“Eddie, it’s okay,” you say rubbing his back as he starts to sob. You pull him closer to you until his head is resting in your lap. You can feel his tears soaking your thighs, but you only continue to rub soothing circles into his back. 

“You don’t have to tell me anymore, Eddie. I don’t think you’re ready to relive this.”

His head shoots up from your lap, his face wet with tears, eyes rimmed red. He sniffles as he takes his shirt and wipes his face with it.

“It’s fine, I got this,” he says with a rasp. “That was the worst of it. Um, after that, I just totally freaked out and ran. I wasn’t even thinking straight until I pulled up to Rick’s place. That’s when I realized what happened and…what was going to happen to me. I already didn’t have a good reputation in this town, and I knew if I called the cops after I left…shit even if I hadn’t left, they would have arrested me on the spot.”

Eddie tells you about what happened over the few days he was at Rick’s. About how Dustin, Max, Robin, and Steve found him there and they all explained to him what he told you. How if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes he wouldn’t have believed them.

He then tells you about the manhunt for him. How a group of boys, one of them being Chrissy’s boyfriend, found him and one of those boys ended up being killed the same way Chrissy had. That made three people total that had been killed by Vecna at that point, and apparently he only needed to kill four.

“Who was his fourth victim?” You ask. Eddie blinks and looks up at you.

“Max was supposed to be.”

Eddie tells you everything. He tells you about Max’s visions and her almost being killed in front of Lucas. How El managed to keep her from dying and that’s how she ended up in the coma she’s in now.

It makes you think about how you’d been taking care of her. Did her mom know this is what happened to her? Or was she just as in the dark about it as you and everyone else was. 

You understood why Lucas felt that he couldn’t leave her side. You would probably do the same if you were in his shoes.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie. That must be an awful thing to live with.” You were referring to survivors guilt. You knew Eddie had to have been feeling it this whole time, but you didn’t know the context that made it’s severity make sense.

“I’m trying to deal with it. Honestly…you’ve made me feel a lot better. When Dustin or the guys try to cheer me up, it feels like they’re pitying me. But you…”

You take one of his hands in yours and smile. He looks at you bashfully before adverting his gaze once again. As you hold his hand, you feel the scars that adorn them.

“Eddie,” you say quietly, “What happened to you?”

Eddie remains still, almost tense. There was a long pause before he finally spoke again.

“You know how it’s hard for me to listen to that one Metallica song?”

“The puppet one?”

He nods.

“Yeah, you said it had bad memories.”

“That night, the same night that that happened to Max, we were in the Upside Down. It was Dustin and I, left in charge of creating a distraction so that Steve and Nancy and Robin could get to the big boss. So, I took my guitar from down there and played that song. 

“I’d been practicing it every day since I got the album, so I knew that I needed to play it and make it count. I felt so bad ass playing it, too. And, the best part is that it worked. We were able to get all those fucking bats to come to us.”

Eddie was looking past you, recalling that night in his head.

“They swarmed us. Dustin and I were able to get back into the trailer where we thought we were safe. But, those fucks were still able to get in. We took them down, and Dustin wanted to leave…But I was too stubborn.

“Instead of doing the right thing and going with Dustin, I tried to play the hero and wanted to make more of a distraction for the others. So I…ran out there and I tried to fight off hundreds of these bats by myself.”

You gasp, your hand coming to your mouth as you connect the dots.

“Needless to say they made a snack out of me,” Eddie says gesturing to himself. “I was sure I was a gonner, too. I blacked out and everything. Woke up a few days later in a busy hospital where I didn’t receive the best care in the world. But, I was also handcuffed to the bed considering I was still the number one suspect in the murders.”

“Wait, so even though you came in barely alive they still thought you were a murderer?”

“Yep. And, get this, Jason, Chrissy’s boyfriend, he died in the earthquake. His aunt works at the hospital as a nurse. She obviously doesn’t like me, and I don’t blame her. She tried to kill me.”

“What?! How?”

“Apparently she was going to give me like a lethal amount of some kind of narcotic in my IV. But Wayne caught her at the last minute when he came to visit me.”

“And that’s why you were so weary of me.”

Eddie nods, giving you a coy smile. “Sorry about that…”

“Eddie you don’t need to be sorry about any of that. If I had known, I would have done things totally differently--”

“But I’m glad you didn’t. Instead of treating me like a charity case, you treated me like human being despite my shitty attitude. Who knows if we would have gotten to this point if you had known.”

This point. That could mean a myriad of things, but you try not to think about why you came here and instead focus back to the present. 

“Wow. That is…a lot.”

“Yeah,” Eddie nods, “I know that most of it sounds like some kind of fantasy, and I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me.”

“Why would you lie to me?”

Eddie looks at you with surprise.

“You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“Eddie, obviously you’re quite upset about all of this. I don’t think you’re that good of an actor to fake it.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he says with a sigh of relief. “I thought you would have told me to shut up before I could get everything out.”

“You really think that way about me?”

“No, god no,” he says waving his hands, taking yours back in his grip once he’s done, “I just wouldn’t have blamed you if you did.”

“So, I’m guessing that the radio silence from you the last few weeks is because something is happening again?”

“Yes. Do you remember when we were at Grant’s place on New Years?”

Your cheeks go hot and you nod.

“Well, when Hopper called, he told me that something happened to Max that night. Apparently she levitated off of the bed and told Lucas that Vecna would be coming soon.”

You reel back, taken aback at the visual you had in your head of that happening. “No one at the hospital said anything about that.”

“That's because only Lucas and Max’s mom saw it happen. Nearly gave the poor woman a heart attack.”

“I bet it did,” you say thinking about Max’s poor, tired mom.

“Ever since we’ve all been on high alert in case something else happens. But nothing with Max has happened.”

“Has anything happened to you?”

There’s a quiet moment again. Eddie’s thumb rubs circles into the back of your hand as he takes his time to respond.

“I’ve been…having those dreams. But they’ve been more vivid than before. He…he talks to me.”

“Who talks to you?”

“Vecna.”

“The bad guy from the Upside Down has been talking to you?”

Eddie nods. “He told me that I was lucky to get out alive, that he was going to make sure that didn’t happen again.”

A wave of nausea washed over you. Eddie was in real, genuine danger and there’s a possibility that you might not have ever seen him again if you hadn’t come out tonight. How could you even live with yourself if that had been the case?

“Well,” you say after a moment, “That’s not going to happen. Not while I’m around.”

Eddie shakes his head in disbelief. “I just told you I have a target on my back and your first thought isn’t to run?”

“Hell no! I’m not leaving your side ever again at this point.”

Eddie brings a hand to his face, head tilting back. He plays it off as frustration but he’s trying to hide how red his cheeks are from your words. But when he says your name in a whiny tone to punctuate his actual frustration, you suspect he’s going to protest you staying.

“Please don’t make me leave,” you say before he can get another word out. He peeks at you through his fingers, a sad puppy like look on your face as you plead with him. “If I have to be honest with you to get you to let me stay I will be.”

“What do you mean by that?” He says, running his hand down his face so he can look at you properly.

You take a deep breath in and release it.

“Eddie, what I’ve been wanting to talk about…I just, I can’t keep my mind off of you. And, not just in the way I’ve been worried about you…” You bite your lip. “Ever since New Years…when we..you know.”

“When we…”

“Kissed.” 

Eddie really blushes now, and you become acutely aware of how your hand is still holding his.

“Ye-yeah, I’ve been…wanting to talk with you about that, too.”

“I want to apologize.”

Sitting up straight, he looks at you like you have two heads. “What do you need to apologize for?”

“That kiss, it was inappropriate. At first it felt like it was just an accident, but the more I’ve been able to think about it the last few weeks…The more I realized that I didn’t want it to be one. And that made me think that you must have felt that way, too. Which was why I thought you stopped having me come over.”

“No, nope, not at all,” Eddie says, waving his hand dismissively. “Honestly, I’ve barely been able to think about that. Not because I don’t want to, but, well, you know, with everything going on.”

“Well, that makes me feel better, kinda. Obviously I’d rather you be mad at me than in danger from a supernatural being, but I’m glad you’re not upset with me at all.”

“I don’t think I could ever be mad at you.” The gooey tone he says those words make you feel like melting into a little puddle on the floor. “I also wouldn’t take back what happened. Because I don’t regret it. Unless you didn’t want it to happen. Then I’ll do my best to forget.”

“You really don’t regret it?”

Eddie shakes his head. “If nothing else, I think that if I died right now that I’d be happy to have had at least that with you.”

You feel your heart beating in your chest. Eddie and you look at each other, the tension thick as both of your true feelings start to surface for the first time like this. You swallow thickly, and Eddie’s eyes shift down. They land on your lips, then back to your eyes. 

The string snaps, and you both lean into each other, lips colliding together is a passionate kiss. His hands hold your face in place, yours go straight for his hair, letting your fingers get caught up in his tangled mane. Your lips move in sync as you take each others breath away. 

The fireworks from New Years make an appearance in your minds eye once more. But this time, they’re raging more than ever, amplified by the warmth that floods your body as you have this moment with Eddie. All the worries you had fly out the window as he hold you, kissing you with just as much feverence as you have for him.

The moment you pull away from each other feels like being ripped away from a fire in the dead of winter. But Eddie’s face remains close to yours looking at you wildly, a huge grin on display.

“Wow,” he says with a breathy chuckle. 

“Yeah,” you say, eyes still closed as you feel a heat starting to burn within you. They remain lidded even with you open them, taking in Eddie’s features up close as he looks at you with a childish wonder.

You can’t help but lean into him again. Letting your lips barely touch as you peck him once, twice. The third time lingers, and you feel the heat of his breath blowing from his nose against your cheeks. You open him up with your mouth, letting yourself into his as your tongue slips inside. There’s some hesitance on his part, but he does his best to match your pace, tongues doing a sloppy dance between you. 

As the kiss intensifies, you place your hands on Eddie’s shoulders, pushing him back gently until you’re barely on the bed anymore. You close it with another peck or two, his eyes closed as he chases you. You slide down until your knees hit the push of his carpet and that’s when Eddie opens his eyes. He watches your every move as you place a delicate hand on either knee, pushing his thighs apart until you’re properly wedged between them.

“Wh-what are you…?” Eddie trails of, still wanting to make sure you’re doing what he thinks you’re doing. Your hands move slowly as they run up his thighs until they reach his hips, then you move them back down at the same pace.

“What do you want me to do, Eddie?” You ask, voice smooth as silk as you look up at him. 

“Holy fuck,” Eddie huffs, voice shaky. You lay your head on his thigh, looking up at him, and Eddie swears you have a sparkle in your eyes.

“I can do whatever you want me to, you know,” you say with a smile. “If there’s a possibility you might die, might as well make it a night to remember.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, and it makes you a little nervous. But he couldn’t help it. He was going through every scenario that he’d ever jerked off to with you in it. He was getting so hard that he didn’t know how he was going to be able to keep his cool.

But his silence worried you. Did you come off too strong? 

“Eddie? Do you want me to stop?”

Eddie suddenly snaps back into it, shaking his head wildly. 

“No, please don’t!” He absentmindedly grabs your hand and places it on his hard cock. You gasp, feeling him through his sleep pants. 

“This is what you do to me, you know. And not just now. There’s been so many times where I’ve imagined this happening. But, I gotta say, nothing I’ve imagined has come close to the real thing.”

You eat up his words and they go straight to your core.

“You’ve thought about me?” You ask genuinely.

“I can’t think of anything else but you,” he says lowly. Too bashfully for the mood you’re trying to set. You want him to know he can be open with you, that he doesn’t have to think he isn’t worthy of you.

You adjust your hand so that you’re holding onto his cock and start rubbing him through his pants. Eddie makes little noises in response to your touch that tell you he’s liking it. 

“Can I--” You start, but Eddie cuts you off.

“You can do whatever you want,” He says breathily.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t like though,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes.

“As long as it’s you I’ll like it.”

With that, you let your fingers curl around the hem of his sweats and tug. Eddie lifts himself up a bit so give some slack and you take advantage of it. You pull his sweats down enough that his cock springs free, smacking against his stomach.

You’ve seen his cock briefly before, but to see it now in all it’s glory was a lot. It was as big as you expected it to be, and thick, too. You reached out your hand, wrapping it around him and begin stroking him. His cock jumps in your touch.

Eddies hands are gripping his wheelchair. He can’t believe this is happening to him. He’s never had anyone touch him like this before and the fact that you’re the first to do this was driving him crazy. Every move felt better than he could have even imagined. 

He watched in awe as you adjusted yourself, your lips hovering over him as you fucking spit on his cock and rub it in. He feels like he could bust right there, but he does his best to keep calm. The last thing he wants is to embarrass himself by cumming too fast.

But you’re testing his resilience when you take him into your mouth.

“Oh, holy fuck,” he moans as you get as much of him in as you can. With your hand on the base you start bobbing up and down on him, doing your best to open up for him as you take him to the back of your throat over and over. 

Eddie’s hands fly to your head. You hesitate for a moment, but when you see up to see the way he’s looking at you, you keep going. Pulling yourself from him, you take your tongue and lick him from base to top, swirling it around his head before going back in for the kill. You open up your throat and take him until your can feel your nose rubbing against hair.

“Haaaaa, oh my god,” he chokes out, his grip on your head getting tighter out of reflex. You hold it for as long as you can, trying your best to hold your breath until you just can’t anymore. You pull off of him again, looking up at him to get his reaction. 

“Was that good?” You ask as you stroke him.

“Is the sky blue?” He can’t even believe you’re asking. You smile and lean down to wrap your lips around his tip. You work around it with your tongue as you keep pumping. Eddie grabs the arms of his chair again and his hips buck, putting him further into your mouth. You cough a bit, unprepared for that much of him all at once.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says, his hands framing your face. “Are you okay?”

You smile and nod, “Yeah, it’s okay. You’re just so big, Eddie. I can’t take you like that if I’m not ready.”

Eddie’s face is like a tomato from your words. You calling saying he’s big does a little something to his ego that he’s going to keep in his mind for the rest of his life. He leans down and kisses you, taking the lead with his new found confidence. You can feel him guiding you up from the floor with his hands, and you stand until you’re the one leaning down to him.

Eddie suddenly pulls away, locking the brakes of his chair. He places a hand on either arm and pushes himself up so that he’s towering over you, your bodies brushing against each other as he teeters on his leg. Out of instinct you grab him by his waist to hold him up. 

But Eddie has other plans. He maneuvers his body, shifting his weight so that he’s pushing against you. This causes you to fall back until you land on the bed, bringing Eddie down with you. Before he can crush you under him, Eddie braces his hands on either side of you, propping himself up so that he’s hovering over you, his knee on the bed between your legs.

Now you’re the one blushing, taken aback by such a smooth move by him. He’s so close to you, his hair curtaining around you so that all you can focus on is his face. Which is looking at you like he also can’t believe that he just pulled that off. 

“Hi,” you say when he doesn’t say anything.

“Hi, sweetheart” he says with a classic Eddie chuckle.

You reach up to kiss him again and he melts into it, allowing some of his body to relax into you. It doesn’t take long for things to heat up again, but Eddie doesn’t seem like he’s able to make another move while holding himself up. So you take the opportunity to reach between you and grab him again.

Eddie breaks away and curses, looking at you with a lust filled gaze. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks, taking you by surprise.

“Of course,” you say, tickled at the prospect. 

Eddie shifts onto his side, and the two of you adjust until you’re laying next to each other. He looks at you up and down and raises his hand. But he freezes before he does anything.

“Wh-where should I touch?” He asks you. You think he’s joking at first but you realize very quickly that he’s not.

“Eddie…have you ever done this before?”

His hand drops, eyes looking away from you in embarrassment. 

“Oh, Eddie,” you coo, brushing his hair out of his face. “It’s okay if you haven’t. I just didn’t know.” He looks at you out of the corner of his eye and smiles. It’s still embarrassing, but he should have known you wouldn’t judge him. “Do you want me to show you?”

Eddie’s ears perk up.

“Please?”

You take his hand and guide him to the bottom of your shirt. Gently, you move his hand until it’s under the fabric. The tips of his fingers skim your skin as you raise his hand higher, higher, until it’s touching the cup of your bra. You leave it there and move your shirt up the rest of the way so that your chest is on display.

His eyes are bugging out of his head. Eddie’s seen boobs before. He’d say he’s a pretty big fan of them. But he’s never seen them this up close and personal before. He snaps back to reality when he hears you giggling.

As Eddie ogles your chest, you arch your back and reach around to unclasp your bra. If he’s this amazed covered up, you can only imagine how he’s going to react once he sees the whole picture. Once it’s loose, you pick up Eddie’s hand and remove it, tossing it to the other side of the bed. 

“Woah,” he says in awe, eyes blinking rapidly. Your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling at him.

Bringing his hand back down, you place it on your breast, giving him a small squeeze to let him know he can do as he wants. Eddie gets the hint and immediately begins playing with you in his hand. He needs at you, feeling you in palms and with his fingers. He lets yous nipple get caught between two of them and gives a gentle pinch that has you gasping.

“Did that feel good?” He questions, and you nod in response. He likes this answer and tries to do it more, experimenting a bit with pressures and feeling them more. Most of it felt good. Honestly you were more turned on by his fascination than anything. Most guys barely pay attention to your body during sex, but Eddie’s inexperience seemed to be benefiting you.

It’s when Eddie takes it to the next step that you start to feel genuinely turned on. 

He moves, letting himself get closer to you until his face is right at your breast. He looks up at you with those big brown eyes, pupils blown out so that they’re almost block, and takes your nipple into his mouth. You can feel the sensation all the way down to your toes as he sucks and licks you. Eddie’s shifts himself so that he can fondle your other breast while he continues working on you.

It becomes too much and not enough all at once and you desperately just want Eddie to touch you in other places. So you take his hand once again, gentle around his scars, and bring it down to the waistband of your jeans. Eddie looks at you, tit still in his mouth, waiting to see what you do next. So you unbutton your pants and wiggle them down as best as you can. Eddie’s head whips around to watch, suddenly very interested in what you’ve got going on.

When you’ve gotten them off, your panties on full display for him, Eddie feels like he’s won the lottery. The reality of everything suddenly sets in that this is actually happening and he’s pretty sure he’s never been so hard in his life. He lets you move his hand down, over the fabric until his hand is where your legs meet. They feel damp to the touch, and Eddie can barely compute that you’re wet. Because of him.

“Do you want me to show you?”

Eddie smacks his lips, still staring at where his hand is touching you. He’s watched porn before, so he thinks he can figure it out. His hand moves from yours and he runs two fingers down your clothed slit, getting a feel of you before he does anything else. 

He’s trying to keep himself aware of any movements you make as he continues to feel you. He knows there’s a sweet spot hiding somewhere, he just needs to find it. After a minute he gets frustrated decides to take the plunge. He pulls your panties to the side and repeats what he was doing before.

The sudden gasp you make when he brushes over a certain spot has him celebrating internally. He focuses on what he’s pretty sure is your clit, making small circles with the pads of his fingers. The reaction you give him has him elated, your smalls huffs and moans making him feel like the king of the world. And he did it all by himself!

You were shocked that Eddie was able to make you feel so good so quickly. It was hard to believe he’s never done it before, but you couldn’t think about that as he tended to you. Eddie was so zoned in to what he was doing, and you found it so endearing, but you wanted more. 

Bringing yourself forward, you took his face in your hand and turned it, planting a kiss on his lips. He only faltered for a moment, taken by surprise by you, but quickly returned to your needs. 

“Eddie,” you breathed against his lips, “feels so good. Need more.”

Oh shit, is this it?

Eddie thought quickly about how he was going to do this. He didn’t know if he would be able to hold himself up on his bad leg. But he would try for you if it’s what he needed to do. He pulled his hand from between your legs and shifted up until he was on one knee, only using his thigh to keep himself balanced. 

When his shirt was pulled from over his head, and you couldn’t help but stare. Eddie had started doing some exercises recently to rebuild his strength, push ups, lifting small weights, and it was starting to pay off. And the little trail of hair from his cock to his belly button had you drooling. 

Eddie caught you staring and smiled down at you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Maybe next time,” you tease back, and Eddie almost jumps with joy. You hadn’t even done the deed yet and you were already talking about a next time? Maybe Vecna had gotten him in his sleep and this is what his heaven is. He wouldn’t complain if it was.

Eddie does some moving, and you help by opening your legs up for him. He looks at your exposed pussy and just about passes out from the sight. No porn star could compare to the sight of you laying before him, in full view for him to take in.

“Take a picture,” you say, laughing at the trance he seems to be in.

“Sorry,” he blushes. He grabs the sides of your panties and pulls them down until they’re just another piece of clothing on his floor. 

He takes a note from a porno he’s watched and runs his fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness before bringing his hand to his cock and pumping it. The sight of it has you feeling hotter than before, a lump forming in your stomach from the little bit he’s touched you already.

Eddie looks like he’s about to take the dive when you stop him.

“Eddie, do you have any condoms?”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, a wave of devastation washing over him.

“I did…but they got destroyed when the trailer did,” he said, as if he didn’t know those condoms wouldn’t have done any good even if he did have them.

“Oh, um, that’s okay,” you say. “Just make sure you pull out. Okay?”

Eddie salutes you, “Scouts honor.”

“Didn’t take you for a scout,” you say jokingly. Eddie simply shrugs and strokes himself a few more times.

Eddie does his best to situate himself, leaning over you with one hand and one leg, using his thigh for support. Before you know it he’s lining himself up at your entrance. The anticipation is palpable as the head of his cock just a thrust away from being inside of you.

Taking a breath, Eddie looks at you.

“You sure you want to do this?” 

You can’t help but laugh at the position you’re in for him to ask you that.

“Yes, Eddie, I promise.”

He chuckles, “Okay, well, here goes nothing. Let me know if I do something wrong.”

“Just don’t go in all at once,” you tell him. “Go slow, please.” Eddie aches at how sweet you sound pleading with him.

He takes another breath and goes for it. He pushes himself past the threshold until the tip was all the way in before pulling back out again. He does this a few times, inching in a little more with each thrust until he’s halfway in and already feeling like he’s going to cum.

The stretch is delicious. You didn’t mean for him to go this slow, but you don’t want to discourage him so you let him go at his own pace.

By the time Eddie is almost all the way in his fists are already gripping his bedsheets. It’s indescribable how amazing you feel around him, and it feels like a tidal wave of emotions is on the horizon. But Eddie is determined not to make things weird by crying right now, so instead he looks at you, trying to gauge how you’re feeling about all of this.

Wrong move.

Because the slack jawed, lidded eyed expression you were giving him only made things worse. And then you go and smile at him! Come on!

“You can go faster now,” you say to him after a few slow thrusts. Eddie nods and starts moving a little more, doing his best to get a good rhythm with only one leg. But you take your leg and position it around his thigh, giving him a little more stability which he greatly appreciates.

At his new pace each thrust felt heaven. The way he hits that spot so effortlessly due to his size has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. The room is filled with moans, curses, and Eddie’s name here and there.

He leans in closer to you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s breathing heavy into your ear, little gasps and hisses coming from him as he continues to roll his hips into you.

After a few minutes of bliss, you start to feel a wobbling on either side of you. Eddie’s arms look like they’re about to give out at any second. You thought about it for a moment until an idea popped into your head.

“Eddie,” you huff, getting his attention. He stops, looking at you with a slightly scared expression.

“Y-yeah?”

“Do you trust me?”

He nods, and you take your legs and wrap them around him. With one swift movement, you roll your bodies until you’re sitting on top of him in the bed. The new angle is intense with him sitting so snug inside of you. 

The look on Eddie’s face is pure surprise, eyes wide with shock.

“This okay for you?” You ask, and he nods once more. “Good.”

You lean forward, letting your hand run up his stomach to his chest. Then you start to move, going up and down slowly a few times before giving one thrust that had him cursing under his breath. After getting the reaction you want you start to bounce on him, giving him quite the show as you do. You bring his hands to your chest once more to let him feel you up as you milk him for all he’s worth.

“You feel so good, Eddie,” you say to him. Eddie looks at you like you hung the moon.

“Y-yeah?” He stutters.

“So good,” you reassure him.

“Oh god, don’t talk like that,” he says, covering his face with his hands.

“Why not?” you ask, switching from bouncing to rolling your hips as you lay chest to chest with him.

“Jesus christ. Because if you talk like that then I’m gonna come, and I don’t wanna come yet.”

“You can come, Eddie. I want you to,” you say in a sweet tone.

“But you haven’t yet,” he whines. It touches you that he’s worried about making you cum.

“It’s okay if I don’t. This is for you, not me,” you say, caressing his face. But he shakes his head.

“No, want to make you come, too. Don’t wanna be like those assholes who don’t make girls cum.”

“Awe, Eddie, that fact that you even care means you’re not like that. But…” You take his hand, bringing his thumb to your clit. “If you really want to make me come, do what you were doing before.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, getting started. The combination was delicious as you started to roll your hips again. 

It didn’t take long for you to feel like you were on the edge with Eddie’s help. The knot was forming in your stomach once again and you chased that high by grinding down on him, letting his cock hit you right in that sweet spot over and over.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so close,” you say, moving on instinct with what feels good. 

Eddie felt like he had front row seats to the best show of his life as he watched you start to come undone on top of him. That deep pit feeling that he’s been trying to ignore was becoming too much for him to stave off for much longer. He was doing his best to try and hold it in because he really wanted to watch you cum on his cock. But every movement you made chipped away at him.

“Shit, oh my god,” you say just before you hit your peak. One more good roll of your hips and the knot inside you snaps. The feeling is intense, and you vision goes blurry as you come hard.

Eddie is losing his mind watching you. The way your pussy is spasming around him is too much for him to handle and he’s suddenly cumming as well.

“Oh, fuck!” He shouts, holding onto your hips as he spills inside of you.

It takes a moment for the both of you to come down and realize what happened. You hop off of him quickly, almost falling off the bed with how shaky your legs were. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” you say, jogging into the bathroom to take care of the mess Eddie made.

“I’m so sorry,” he calls to you from the bed. “I-I didn’t mean to!”

Eddie was panicking. He knew he fucked up and there was no way you were going to do this with him ever again now. You might never even speak to him again after what he did.

“Eddie, it’s fine,” you say from the bathroom. “I’ll just clean up really quick and we should be okay. I think my period is due soon anyway.”

He wasn’t really sure what that meant, but the fact you weren’t yelling it him was enough to help him calm down at least a little bit. He sat up fully in the bed and looked down at himself. The lower half of his body where you were was soaking wet, evidence of what the two of you had just done. It hits him like a freight train that you had sex with him. And he made you come? He felt like he was on top of the world.

After cleaning yourself up, you sheepishly reentered Eddie’s bedroom. You had just had sex with him, but you were feeling a little bashful about being naked in front of him. But the way he was looking at you made you feel like you could be covered in mud and he’d still be happy to see you.

“Do you want to take a shower?”

“..and she picked out the venue,” you say as you brush out Eddie’s hair. “I think she wants to do like a mint green and a light orange. Maybe some white or silver or something like that, too.”

“I’m assuming you’re going to be the maiden of honor or whatever it’s called?” Eddie asks, looking at you in the bathroom mirror.

“No, her sister is, but I’m going to be a bridesmaid. I hope she has us wear green dresses instead of orange.”

“I think you would look really pretty in orange.”

You blush, sneaking a peak at him in the mirror. He’s had a grin plastered on his face since you two got in the shower. Even now he’s looking at you like you’re the most beautiful painting in a museum.

“Thanks,” you say softly, finishing the last few knots in his hair. “There, good as new.”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, looking at himself in the mirror, “It fees way better already. I don’t know how I thought I was going to be able to manage this long without you.”

“I guess that means you can’t get rid of me, huh?” You say, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

“Good thing I didn’t plan on it.”

Warmth flooded your whole body at his words. It felt so good to get your feelings off your chest with him. Of course Tonya was right that he liked you. When he told you that he’d been pining for you for a while, you felt like kicking yourself for never seeing the signs.

You bend down to press a kiss to the crown of his head. His smile grew even wider as you did, the apples of his cheek dusted with a hint of pink. He couldn’t believe that this was even happening to him. How did he manage to get the most perfect girl in the world to like him? Certainly wasn’t his looks, nor his personality. Maybe you were just crazy and taking a chance on him. Whatever your reason, he doesn’t plan on doing anything to mess it up.

“Do you think Dustin and the gang are okay?” You ask suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Shit, I almost forgot,” Eddie says, suddenly anxious again. “The phone didn’t ring while we were…you know.”

“Not that I heard. Is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily,” he says, turning his chair to look at you, “But I was hoping that one of them would call once things are settled down.”

“Can I ask you something?” You say after a beat.

“Of course.”

“Why did Dustin say not to answer the door?”

“Vecna, he’s…doing this weird thing with them. Apparently Nancy slipped into a trance and went to answer the door to their house and it ended up being a trap. She had some scary visions I guess and now she’s petrified to open a door. Jonathan’s been staying with her so she’s not alone.”

“That’s Mike’s sister, right? Has Mike had any visions?”

“Not Mike, but I guess Lucas has been seeing things, too. So we’re just trying to be cautious.”

“What does Wayne think about all of this?”

Eddie chuckles, shifting in his chair. 

“He’s always been a believer in the supernatural, so it didn’t take much to convince him of whats been going on. It’s the only reason he hasn’t asked you to come out here instead of Rick. Which, he’s not been doing too bad taking care of me, so don’t be too hard on him.”

“I think Rick and I are cool now,” you say with a smile.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Eddie starts, “Because I actually needed to ask you something.”

“What’s up?” You ask curiously.

“So, I was going to ask you to go with me as my plus one, just in case I needed help But now…I guess I want to ask you if you wanted to go with me to Rick’s wedding. Not just as my plus one, but as my…”

“As your what?” You ask with a teasing lit.

“As my date,” he says, eyes cast down so he doesn’t have to watch you if you reject him.

“Awe, are you asking me on a date?” You ask.

“Maybeeee…”

“Eddie, of course I’ll go. I’d have gone no matter what, but I’ll especially go as your date.” You reach your hand out for him to take. He looks at it, then up at you before taking your hand in his. He brings is to his lips and places little kisses on your knuckles.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to say yes because of what we did.”

“Eddie, I told you I like you. I’m sure it must be had to think that considering how down on yourself you are, but I really, really do like you. Want to date you, if you want to.”

“So, if everything goes well tonight…maybe we can, like, go see a movie or something?”

“I would love to. We can go to the one close to my house. Oh, maybe we can even double date with Tonya and Charles. She’s been dying to meet you.”

“She has?” He asks, surprised to hear that anyone wants to meet him.

“Yes. She’s the one whose been trying to tell me that you like me for months now.”

The two of you laugh and carry on, eventually heading out to the living room. The two of you get comfortable on the couch after deciding on a movie to watch and popping it into the VHS player. Everything is going well, the two of you stealing little kisses here and there, until about 20 minutes into the movie.

The both of you jump when you hear it. It feels like your heart is beating a million beats per second. You almost think that you imagined it, until you looked over at Eddie, who seemed just as distressed as you.

And then it happens again. 

Another knock at the door.

thanks for reading!

[eddiesdaydream]

warnings: public sex, mean dom eddie (my beloved), unprotected piv sex

something something about eddie copying and mocking your moans during sex…

the first time it happens you’ve promised to be quiet, but the way he’s rutting into you from behind has the noises pouring out of you at a rate you just can’t stop.

and normally eddie wouldn’t mind, he loves hearing you.

but in this case you really can’t be caught in this position, with your upper half bent over the hellfire table. so his hand is quick to cover your mouth when he pulls you up flush against his chest.

“just can’t keep that pretty mouth of yours shut can you, sweet thing?”

his teeth nip at your ear, the first of many mocking moans tumbling past his lips. while it’s hard for him to reach your exact pitch, that doesn’t stop him from trying.

and your body responds by squeezing his cock tighter, the mocking edge of his voice turning you on more than you ever thought possible. your muffled whimpers vibrate against his palm when he presses it more firmly against your mouth.

“oh, you like that don’t you?” he chuckles darkly, another mocking noise filling your ears. “like it when i’m a little mean to you?”

all you can do is nod dumbly, nails digging into his forearm when he suddenly picks up the pace. this new angle has him hitting all your deepest points, and ultimately defeating the purpose of you being quiet as you practically sob against his hand.

“poor thing… just feels too good, huh, baby?” he tuts softly, his other hand slipping between your thighs to circle over your swollen bud before he lands a harsh slap against it.

another muffled cry of his name leaves your lips, body trembling as your meet your end with a sudden intensity that neither of you are quite expecting. when your back eventually slumps against his chest, he removes his hand from your mouth.

the male carefully tilts your chin up to meet his ever darkening gaze.

“now sweetheart, did i say you could come?”

[eddiesdaydream]

Look at what was gathering dust in my drafts since july. My first drawing of him. couldn't even finish it :(

[eddiesdaydream]

Eddie havin a little snack at work

[eddiesdaydream]

please put him in hot fuzz, for the greater good (the greater good)

[eddiesdaydream]

the way that people disregard nancy’s grief in fic is my biggest pet peeve- like she didn’t break up with steve because she wanted to be with jonathan :) she broke up with him bc she was overwhelmed with grief from the death of her closest friend and couldn’t stand the fact that barb’s family were still wondering what happened to her - even going so far as to sell there house to pay murray to look into barb’s disappearance- Nancy broke up with Steve because he wanted to just bury the trauma they had experienced and pretend to be normal teenagers. Nancy wasn’t saying that Steve’s love for her was bullshit. She was saying- look at us. Look at everything we’ve been through. Pretending like none of that happened, burying the grief I feel, that is bullshit.- She didn’t go looking for Murray with Jonathan because she had feelings for him and wanted to leave Steve for him. Jonathan, he validated her feelings and was willing to go against the NDA to give Barb justice and give Barb’s family peace. (Or as much peace that can come from at least knowing that they don’t have to wonder where their daughter is any longer- to know that in the least she is no longer suffering.) That was what was most important to Nancy. And being validated in those feelings and seeing that Jonathan could truly empathize with her grief after believing he had lost his brother and that he would be there for her and support her in doing what she believed to be the most important thing she could do- that inspired romantic feelings and led them to get together.

Some of y’all write her like she’s this heartless one dimensional person who just left Steve in the dust because she wanted another guy and that is a huge disservice to her character.

[eddiesdaydream]

why is it that whenever someone talks about nancy it's always in relation to steve or johnathan. it's always jancy or stancy. instead of talking about her they always talk about her relationships. what about how much growth she exhibits throughout the show? what about how all of the trauma and stress changes her? what about how she went from being annoyed at the kids to protecting the shit out of them? going from a normal school girl to a badass soldier? dealing with sexism? i just want more nancy appreciation PLEASE. she is so much more than just a girl in a love triangle.

yes she messed up a few times, but so did the other characters, and yet people still seem to be harder on her than them (see nancy and steve arguing at the party). they've all gone through so much together so why aren't her feelings and actions valid? why is she made out to be evil and horrible? i feel like she's just a very complex and realistic character.

[eddiesdaydream]

Whiplash

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 2010

A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞

You weren't there... again.

Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.

And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.

Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.

He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.

He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.

"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"

Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."

Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.

At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.

Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.

"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"

The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.

"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.

He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"

《----------♡

When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.

He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.

Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.

To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.

You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.

He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.

When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.

Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.

Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."

Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.

Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.

"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."

The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"

You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."

You didn't want to go back to normal.

For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."

Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.

Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.

Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.

"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."

"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."

All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."

"Don't be mean Eddie."

He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.

In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.

When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.

"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.

"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."

His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.

"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."

"I won't Eds, I promise."

"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"

You laugh, "I have no idea."

[eddiesdaydream]

Here's a website where Palestine GoFundMes are vetted and shared that you can send out to people. The url is gazafunds.com

Easy to use and simple. Just share the site whenever someone asks for GFMs for Palestine.

[eddiesdaydream]

be nice to me.

steve harrington x fem!reader x nancy wheeler

includes: SMUT 18+, strap-on sex, mean!dom nancy, soft!dom steve, daddy and mommy kink (sorry), choking, i think that’s it

summary: a little insight on how much of meanie nance can be during your play time, whilst stevie continues to dote and coo over you.

—♡—

“Keep her legs open, Steve.”

You sobbed at the constant stream of arousal that surged throughout your body, your back pressed firmly against Steve’s sweaty chest, the course, dark curls that littered his pecs tickled your skin whenever you wriggled in his grasp.

He was holding you open, big palms spreading your thighs as wide as they could possibly go, gripping and squeezing the doughy flesh— keeping you nice and wide and open for Nancy.

“Oh, look at her little face,” she cooed, mocking your whiny pout with one of her own before lifting her hand and inflicting a short slap to your cheek. “So pathetic, aren’t you, baby?”

Nancy’s hips shifted, the black straps of her harness taut against her flesh, the fake cock (something she was terribly excited in purchasing) was getting sucked in by your pussy— every inward thrust hitting that special spot inside you, the spot you thought only Steve could reach with his ridiculously large dick.

Steve sponged fluttery kisses to your cheek in a quick succession, nuzzling his nose into the flushed pudge of your face, being so sweet on you, doting on you— Steve was always the sweetness whilst Nance had that harsh dominance.

A perfect contrast, you thought. Everything you needed during your play times.

“Don’t listen to her, honey,” he cooed, wrists twitching at your thighs, wanting so desperately to move from their place and fondle your pretty tits, watching them bounce with each rock of Nancy’s hips. “Y’not pathetic— you’re my perfect girl, isn’t that right?”

You whined, nodding, babbling incoherently into the stuffy air, the sweet smell of sex filling your senses whilst sweat trickled over your brow.

Steve moved one of his hands, gripping your face between his fingers and thumb, squeezing softly, letting your lips jut out into the perfect pout.

He shook your face from side to side, cooing at how cute you looked, making sure your gaze stayed on Nance’s.

“Look at her,” he sighed, “ain’t she such a good girl for us?”

Nancy scoffed like the meanie she could be, and you revelled in the way her meanness made your pussy throb.

“Wanna be good f’you, mommy,” you whined, reaching out for her, pawing at her hands, sighing when they enveloped yours.

“Acting like butter wouldn’t melt, hm?” She spoke, though both you and Steve saw the little quirk of a smile upon her lips at your sweetness.

Oh, how she couldn’t resist her girl.

“Tell her, daddy,” you urged, wiggling in his grasp. “Tell her how good I can be.”

She tutted, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, smacking Steve’s hand away from your face and replacing it with hers, yet a little lower, around your throat this time.

“Don’t go crying to your daddy, sweetheart,” she smirked, “I’m the one in charge— not your daddy.”

Your bambi eyes gazed up at her, ebbing with trickling tears and urging your mascara to streak down your flushed cheeks.

“You understand?” Her hand constricted around your throat like a snake with its prey, her manicured nails sharp against your skin and you felt your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

“Y-yes, mommy,” you sobbed.

It was Steve’s turn to click his tongue now, his big hand covering Nancy’s whilst it squeezed at your throat, trying to get her to ease up a little.

“She’s such a meanie, isn’t she, honey,” he smirked up at Nancy when she scowled down at him. “Don’t worry, sweet girl, once momma makes you cum, I’ll give you all of daddy’s attention, how’s that sound?”

[eddiesdaydream]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐔𝐬 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Everyone is born unable to see color until they find their soulmate. You never gave much thought to it. You preferred to focus on other things, like your career. But the universe has a way of revealing its plans for you. Of course, humans have always been rather stubborn beings, and they don’t always listen to those kismet interventions.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: soulmate au (with a twist), modern au, angst (hurt/no comfort, the comfort comes in part 2), rejection (not from Eddie, you’ll see), artist!reader, rockstar!eddie, reader wears a skirt, reader uses she/her pronouns, background Ronance, some Cheerscops (Steve x Chrissy)

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.4k

𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

A/N: This part is more of a setup! Part two will get into Eddie and readers dynamic. This is my first full length since I’ve been back. It feels really good to be writing again. Also as requested, here are your complimentary tissues 🗳️ I hope you enjoy ♥️

There have been many myths throughout the course of human history that tried to explain the concept of soulmates. From Greece to Japan, tales have been told of two humans connected by fate. Either by soul or string, there is a profound bond that cannot be explained. Nobody really knew where soulmates came from or how they were created. You certainly didn’t.

All that was known was until you met your soulmate you wouldn’t see what they called color. You weren’t entirely sure what color was. You’d tried to understand it, you’d tried listening to people who had met their soulmate explain what it was. But their explanations never really made sense. You knew certain “colors” could be found in certain things. Like how apparently the sky was something called blue which supposedly was beautiful.

The world you knew, the world most people knew, was only in shades of black and white. Finding one’s soulmate was a rare occurrence that few had the luxury of experiencing. It was like winning the lottery, although some experts argued you had better luck with the powerball. Because of this you didn’t give your soulmate much thought. As wonderful as the idea sounded, you didn’t want to be one of those people who threw their lives away as soon as they turned 18 in pursuit of something so fantastical. After all, you didn’t need a soulmate to find love. Plenty of people had lived fulfilling lives full of love without ever meeting their soulmate.

No, you refused to get caught up in something so improbable. Instead you put your focus on your work and your friends.

Art was your calling. Most artists, unless they had found their soulmate, stuck to the monochromatic color scheme of black and white. But even though you couldn’t see the colors, you used them. Finding colored paint was not any easy task. With so few people being able to see the differing colors the market for it was almost nonexistent. But so was the audience for your paintings. The soul-matched, as they were called, seemed to flock to your work, always intrigued that as an unmatched you not only used colors, but used them for portraits of the matched.

It had started just as an experiment. Something you wanted to try for your soul-matched friends Robin and Nancy for their anniversary. Eventually word spread to the other matched, and you began creating commissions for them. It wasn’t exactly something you could make a living on with such a niche crowd but you enjoyed it, and you took other commissions in order to actually make money. But those portraits were your favorite to create.

Your best friend and roommate Chrissy was your biggest supporter. Even if she couldn’t understand how someone who wasn’t interested in finding their soulmate worked so hard for the soul-matched.

“Just think of where you could take your art if you could actually see the colors!” She said, sitting across from you at the little table you and your friends frequented at the local cafe. Your other friends Nancy and Robin were with you. Both of them were listening intently as you all enjoyed your usual brunch.

“I don’t think that’s a very good reason to try to find my soulmate. Shouldn’t I look for them for the sake of finding them?” You asked with a raised brow as you took a sip of your coffee, peering over the rim of the mug to her.

Chrissy shook her head with a slight smile, “Well…yeah. But how else am I going to convince you to try?” She retorted, making you chuckle. “Why don’t you want to at least try and find the one person you’re destined to be with?”

“How do you know its destiny?”

“Because it…because it is!” Chrissy huffed.

Ever the hopeless romantic, Chrissy had been looking for her soulmate for as long as you’d known her. She’d tell you in detail what she wanted him to be like. So much so that you wondered if Chrissy had already met him.

“Lay off her Chris,” Robin piped in. “She’s not interested. Besides, you don’t need to find your soulmate to find love. None of our parents were soulmates.”

“Sue me for wanting me and all my friends to find their perfect person!” She laughed.

“I think you can find your perfect person even if they aren’t your soulmate,” Nancy shrugged.

“Easy for you to say,” Chrissy scoffed. “You met yours!”

Robin and Nancy shared a loving glance, their hands entwining from where they laid on the table. Even if you never found your soulmate you always considered yourself lucky to know people who had. Watching Nancy and Robin fall in love had been a beautiful thing to witness. It made sense for anyone who had seen the way Nancy and Robin loved each other to want that same thing. You couldn’t blame Chrissy for craving such a thing. But that kind of love was rare.

“What about that guy you’ve been talking to?” You asked Chrissy. “What are you going to do when you meet him in person and he turns out to not be your soulmate?”

Chrissy froze, her big eyes staring at you. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and the guilt from your words washed over you. “I’m sorry Chris I didn’t–”

“No it’s okay,” she shook her head. “You’re right. He might not be. If he isn’t I’ll…I’ll keep looking.”

You frowned at that, but didn’t say anything. For months Chrissy had been talking to and about Steve. She had “met” him through the dating app Soul Seekers, an app that claimed they could find your perfect soulmate with the help of their soulmate gurus. It always seemed like a scam to you, but you saw how happy Steve made Chrissy. Even if they hadn’t met in person. They stuck to talking on the phone and texting, never video chatting. They’d never seen each other's faces. It was by design, so that when the users of Soul Seekers met their supposed soulmates for the first time they’d get the full experience. But you worried for her. You didn’t want her to be disappointed when it turned out he wasn’t the one.

It had happened before and you wondered how many times it would happen before she gave up on love entirely.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Eddie had never believed in any of the soulmate “bullshit.” He thought it was all made up, a fairytale that had been concocted to sell dating apps, regiments to help you attract your soulmate to you, and other various monetizations. He believed that these “colors” weren’t an indicator of fate. They were just a phenomenon that happened to some people.

They happened to him, once.

He’d traveled the country. He’d met thousands of people. Yet the one time he met someone he thought was his soulmate, she rejected him. Insisting that it couldn’t be true. Just as soon as the colors appeared they were gone, and so was she.

He tried not to think about her. He tried not to think about the colors of her. But every once in a while his mind slipped back to that place. To that bar. To that moment where his drink met her dress, their eyes locked, and suddenly the world around him changed. It only lasted for a few minutes. But those measly minutes were the most beautiful he had ever witnessed. Until it was ripped away from him.

So it had to be a lie. Otherwise the colors would have stayed. Otherwise she would have stayed.

He instead chose to focus on his music, his band. Corroded Coffin was finally starting to make a name for themselves. They were on a break from their tour for their newest album for a few months before they started their South American leg. In their downtime they stayed in Chicago. It was only a few hours away from their hometown, giving them a chance to visit their families if they wanted to without having to stay in the hellhole they deemed Hawkins to be.

As soon as they got off the plane, Jeff and Artie’s girlfriends met them both at the gate. The two girls practically lept into their arms. Eddie might have been a cynic when it came to soulmates, but seeing the way his friends lit up when they saw the people they loved most was enough to warm even his usual icy exterior. To him it was just further proof that soulmates were bullshit. Here were two of his best friends, in love and happy with two women that were perfect for them and yet there was still no color.

What truer love could there be?

“Looks like it’s just us Gare Bear,” Eddie said, slinging his arm over Gareth's shoulder.

“Speak for yourself Munson,” a deep voice spoke up from behind them. They both turned to see Gareth’s boyfriend, Paul. Pushing Eddie away, Gareth enveloped his boyfriend in a tight hug. Whispering affections to each other that Eddie couldn’t hear.

As the couples all reunited Eddie stood on the sidelines, watching their tender kisses and squeezing embraces. A front man on the stage but a bystander in life. He was the only member that wanted them to keep going. No stops before the next leg, just straight to the next thing. To the next show, to the next crowd. Forever moving. But his bandmates weren’t like that. They had put down roots in this city. They had found a home there.

Music might have been their life, but it wasn’t what kept them going.

While all the couples went to their respective homes to continue their long awaited reunions Eddie went to see his friend Steve. Having not seen his best friend in months, he was expecting to be welcomed with open arms. Maybe a celebratory beer. But then maybe he should have at least called first.

“Eddie, what are you doing here?” Steve asked when he opened the door to see the metalhead with his sunken tired eyes and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

“On break before the next leg,” Eddie replied as if it was obvious as he slinked past Steve into his apartment.

“Why aren’t you at your place?” Steve turned, watching as Eddie threw his bag on his couch and then went to his fridge to scavenge through it. Making himself right at home. As he always did.

“Thought I’d give Gare and Paul some alone time. I love the guy but there are just some things you don’t need to know about your bandmates,” Eddie chuckled as he started his search, looking for anything to eat or drink for his rumbling stomach. But his friend seemed to have a different taste then him, his fridge packed with fresh fruits and veggies. “Do you have any beer? Pizza?”

“Ed,” Steve sighed, exasperated. “I appreciate you stopping by and I’m really happy you’re back but you could have at least called first if you wanted to stay here.”

Eddie paused, pulling his head out the fridge and looked at his friend. “Do you want me to go?”

If there was one thing Steve knew about Eddie Munson it was that he had mastered the art of the puppy dog eyes. His big round eyes were designed for it and his mouth knew how to shape the most subtle yet perfect pout.

“No,” He relented. “You can stay.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A dashing smile.

Big kind eyes.

The face of a man you’d never seen before.

He kept appearing in your dreams. You’d see him amongst a crowd of people, but before you could reach him he would be gone. At first you assumed it didn’t mean anything. But then it just kept happening.

By the third night you needed to know what it meant. Most of the sources you could find online claimed that you must have seen him at some point and you didn’t remember but your subconscious did. But then you found an article from a few years ago from someone who claimed they had seen their soulmate in their dreams before they met them. You weren’t sure whether to believe it or not. There were a lot of things online about people claiming fantastical things about their soulmates, like one person who claimed that they astral projected into their soulmates home but they could never find it, or them, afterwards. So you chose not to dwell on it. Pushing it to the back of your mind where it couldn’t pester you.

A week went by and the dreams persisted.

You kept trying the age old trick of going back to that same dream every time you woke up, but it never worked. You couldn’t get his face off your mind no matter how hard you tried. He consumed your thoughts.

Usually, when you found your thoughts to be too overwhelming you would paint. But that only led you to painting his face. Over and over again. The contours and shape of it were etched into your mind. You struggled to paint or draw any other. Every brush stroke, every scribble, led back to him. You never showed anyone these works. Especially not Chrissy. Your friends would only pester you to go out and find him. It scared you. Putting faith in the universe in this way was not something you did often. You weren’t sure if you could trust it.

One day while you were frantically scribbling another sketch of him there was a knock on your door. You quickly tried to hide it all away, tucking it under other loose papers before you went to answer it.

Your friend Jonathan smiled at you as he stood in your doorway. He gave you a confused look as he took in your disheveled appearance, hair a mess and hands and clothes covered in paint and ink from when you were working on another project before you got distracted by that pestering face.

“Did you forget about lunch?” Jonathan laughed softly. He was very used to you getting lost in your work, often leading you to forget about plans.

“No, no,” you said frantically. “We can go!” You went to grab your shoes when he stopped you by putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Do you want to clean up a bit first Picasso?” He asked, gesturing to your paint splattered overalls.

“Right, right. Come in, I'll be quick.”

As you dashed to your bedroom to make yourself presentable, Jonathan meandered around the small room you had turned into your studio. You never minded when he did it before. He often enjoyed seeing what you were working on. As he looked, he spotted something peculiar. Your sketchbook was under a pile of papers. It was usually out, always available in case an idea came to your mind. Assuming you had misplaced it, he plucked it from the pile. It was open to a sketch he hadn’t seen before of a man's face and as he flipped through that same man’s face kept appearing.

You washed up quickly, scrubbing your hands clean and changing your clothes into something that looked less like you had a fight with a bucket of paint and lost. As soon as you were done you went to find Jonathan. When you saw what he had in his hands you rushed over and swiped it from his grasp.

“Who is that?” He asked, jumping at the suddenness of your actions.

“No one it’s–” You sighed, taking a seat on a nearby stool as your fingers traced the drawn jawline. “I think it’s my soulmate.”

“Your soulmate? You’ve met him? When–”

“No, no I…I dreamt of him,” You looked up from the sketch to see Jonathan's perplexed face.

“You dreamt…oh. Wow. I didn’t know that was possible,” He shook his head in disbelief, striding over to look over your shoulder at the drawing once more. “He’s handsome.”

“Yeah,” You nodded. “But I…what if I’m wrong?”

“Then you’re wrong,” he shrugged. He saw your shoulders slump at his words. “Or you’re right! Can’t be sure until you meet him.”

That was what scared you. This strange man was supposedly your perfect person. The one your soul was matched to. But what if you weren’t what he expected? Your soulmate was the person who was supposed to bring color to your life. But what if your colors were too dull for him?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Eddie was only supposed to stay with Steve for a day or two while Gareth and Paul became re-acquainted. But it had been a week since he showed up at his place. Eddie wasn’t sure what would have been worse, going back to his apartment and having to witness Gareth and Paul’s constant canoodling, or staying with Steve and listening to him go on and on about the girl he had met on that stupid scam of a dating app.

He was happy for his friends. He was. Ecstatic for Gareth who coming out was a challenge for, and for Steve who dreamed of meeting his soulmate. But he would be lying if he said their happiness didn’t leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

He’d tried dating after her. But no matter how hard he tried he was never able to find anyone that clicked just right. He was still searching for that feeling from when he first saw the colors. That shiver that went up his spine. That thrum in his nerves that made his hair stand to attention, the line of goosebumps that climbed up his arm.

It was the same feeling he got when he performed. That rush was something he craved. Every night for the last few months he never went without it. Being without it now, even for a week, was difficult.

Steve noticed the way Eddie seemed to mope around. Strumming aimlessly at his guitar and staring deadeyed at his phone as he watched old performances online. He needed to get out. To stretch his legs, breathe some fresh air or something.

“Hey Ed?” Steve called out to him from his bedroom.

“Yeah?” Eddie responded, voice monotone as his thumb continued to scroll.

Steve poked his head out of his room, adjusting the collar of his polo as he approached the lounging man. “You want to go out tonight? I have a date tonight with that girl I told you about, I could use some moral support.”

Eddie looked up from his phone then, looking at his friend dressed in a nice shirt and his favorite jeans with his hair purposely tousled just right.

“You’re really meeting her? Tonight?” He asked surprised.

“Yeah, I told you. Remember?”

“Right, right but…shit. Okay yeah I’ll come,” Eddie quickly got up from the couch giving Steve’s shoulder a squeeze when he went past him to freshen up in the bathroom.

It wasn’t Eddie’s ideal way to spend a night. But he had seen the way Steve had hurt when these things didn’t work out for him. He didn’t want that for him, so despite his own apprehension he agreed.

What he didn’t see was the way Steve smiled softly to himself in victory, hoping that perhaps Chrissy had a friend for Eddie. Someone who could melt his hardened heart.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Chrissy was freaking out. Her room had succumbed to utter chaos as she practically threw all the clothes she owned onto her bed in search of the perfect outfit. You, Nancy and Robin had tried to calm her. Offering her words of gentle reassurance. But her nerves consumed her. It worried you to see her putting so much pressure on herself. Chrissy was one of the best people you knew and if Steve couldn’t see that then it was his loss, and what a loss that would be.

“Which one?” She asked, holding up two dresses. You were sure you had already seen them, but you didn’t say that.

“Left,” You, Robin and Nancy all said in sync hoping she’d just pick one and be done with it.

“I like the right one,” Jonathan piped in. The three of you quickly turned your heads to glare at him, he stuck his hands up in surrender as he mouthed an apology while Chrissy turned back to her almost empty closet.

Chrissy had invited Nancy over to help her get ready and wherever Nancy went, Robin wasn’t far behind. Then when Jonathan learned the four of you would all be at your apartment, he tagged along claiming that his buddy Argyle was busy so he had no other place to be.

But knowing Jonathan, you knew he just wanted to be included. You were happy to do so. As long as he stopped, unintentionally, foiling your plans to get Chrissy to relax.

“Chris,” Nancy said softly as she stood from where she was perched on Chrissy’s bed. She carefully made her way over to her, putting her hands on her shoulders. “Why don’t I pick something out for you?”

Chrissy sighed in defeat and nodded, sitting beside you on the bed. She laid her head on your shoulder while Nancy looked through her closet.

“He’s gonna love you,” you whispered to her. “It’s impossible not to.” The corners of her lips rose in a slight smile as she hugged you from the side. “Maybe…” She lifted her head to turn and look at you, a hopeful gleam to her eyes. “Maybe you could come with me? Be my get out of jail free card?” She suggested.

“I don’t know…”

“Steve has a friend! He’s a muscian! It can be a double date.”

“I think it’s a little last minute Chris–”

Nancy cut off the conversation as she turned to the group, holding up a sleek off the shoulder dress. “How about this?” She asked.

“That’s pretty!” You nudged Chrissy.

“Yeah…” she said hesitantly. “But will Steve like it?”

“If he doesn’t then he doesn’t have taste,” Robin replied, grabbing the dress from Nancy and tossing it to Chrissy. “Get dressed so Nance can do your hair. You’re not the only one with plans tonight.”

“That’s my cue,” Jonathan rose from the bed and left her room so she could change. “Thanks Jonny!” Chrissy called out to him as he shut the door behind him, waving at her in acknowledgment. As Chrissy dressed, Nancy gathered what she needed to do her hair. You could still feel the nerves vibrating off of Chrissy. You didn’t want her to be disappointed if Steve turned out to not be what she expected. So, being the good friend you were, you caved.

“I’ll go with you,” You sighed.

“Really?” Chrissy asked excitedly, stumbling slightly as she tried to put on a pair of heels. “I’ll text Steve!”

You hoped you wouldn’t regret it. You didn’t understand why but you had a sinking feeling in your stomach about tonight.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The bar was crowded, the scent of beer and sweat was heavy in the air. Some cheesy love song played over the speaker, the singer droning on about losing their lover. The two men sat in a booth with Steve facing towards the entrance. His eyes were trained on it as he anxiously waited for his date's arrival.

“Excited?” Eddie said teasingly as he watched his friend's foot tap incessantly.

“What if…what if I’m not what she's expecting?” Steve looked at him, his face twisted in worry.

“Then clearly she has no taste,” Eddie stated matter of factly. “You’re a catch Stevie. If you were into dudes I’d be all over you.”

Steve laughed, his body easing slightly. Eddie smiled at having provided his friend with some comfort.

“What is this girl's name anyway?” He asked.

“I haven’t told you? It’s Chrissy.”

“Wait, Chrissy?”

The bar door opened and Steve’s head whipped in the direction of it, no longer paying any mind to Eddie or what he was saying. Chrissy entered the establishment with you in tow. The skirt Chrissy insisted you wore was tighter than you usually enjoyed and you kept adjusting it, trying to make it more comfortable. You and Chrissy scanned the bar in search of your dates when your eyes suddenly landed on a familiar face and your eyes met.

The man from your dreams was right in front of you and then…

Colors.

Colors as far as the eye could see. Everywhere. They came to the forefront of your vision like ink bleeding into paper.

He smiled widely, both in shock and joy as he waved you over, “Chrissy!” He shouted. Chrissy turned to him and quickly made her way over, embracing him in a tight hug. He looked down at her confused, then back at you for only a moment before he brought his attention back to her. You hesitantly made your way over, your eyes strained on him trying to not get distracted by just how colorful the world had become, and to not give away how it had changed.

Chrissy introduced you to Steve but you couldn’t hear a word she was saying. You felt like you were drowning, her words gargling in your ears as you looked at the man before him. The same freckles and moles you had been drawing incessantly were now within an arm's reach.

But he was looking at Chrissy.

“Your eyes are so…wow,” he breathed. Chrissy blushed, you saw the color rising in her cheeks and you couldn’t help but stare as it did.

“Thank you,” She said softly, her voice syrupy sweet as she looked up at him in adoration.

You felt like you were going to throw up.

Eddie was just as frozen as you were, staring at Chrissy. The girl that had made all the colors disappear. He always wondered if he saw her again if they would return, but they didn’t.

She met his eyes and her body stiffened as recognition swiped across her features.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” Steve was grinning so widely you thought his smile would split his face in half.

Chrissy shook her head, trying to snap herself out of it after seeing Eddie’s face again. “I know! It’s so good to finally see your face!” She responded gleefully.

“No I mean…the colors,” He gestured around them, but Chrissy only looked at him in confusion. Then his eyes widened in horror as he realized and he turned to you.

“You,” Eddie pointed at Chrissy. He didn’t want to believe it.

She was here. Right here in front of him, and she was Steve’s girl. The same girl he had been gushing over. The same girl that had brought his friend so much happiness.

Steve looked to Eddie, begging for help with his eyes to his friend. When it clicked for Eddie what was happening he returned that same look of horror.

“I-I don’t understand,” Chrissy frowned.

“The colors,” Steve said. “I-I can see them.” He stared back at you and you felt as though you couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

“Colors? What–” Chrissy looked at you then, and it all snapped into place.

“Yeah the colors. You remember those don’t you Chrissy?” Eddie snapped.

“What are you–” Steve started to say but you cut him off.

“Okay everyone just…just stop for a minute please,” You pleaded. You needed to get your thoughts together. It was too much. It was all too much. The three of them all looked at you, as if you had the answers. But you didn’t. You were just as baffled as the rest of them.

“What does he mean you remember the colors?” Steve looked to Chrissy.

Her mouth opened like she was going to say something, but it closed quickly.

“Chrissy and I have met before,” Eddie explained. “Last summer in Miami–”

“Eddie please–” She begged, but he continued on.

“We saw the colors. I thought we were soulmates. But apparently I wasn’t good enough for her, and they disappeared.”

“No that’s not–” Chrissy sighed frustrated. “Yes we met. But we’re not…it was just a fluke. If it wasn't, the colors wouldn’t have disappeared!”

“What is he talking about Chris?” You turned to Chrissy, confusion and pain laced in your words. In all the time you’ve known her she never told you. She was always looking, searching, hoping, to find her soulmate. But she already had.

“Look, remember when I visited my aunt in Miami? Well I met Eddie there and I thought he was it. But it didn’t…it didn’t feel right. Your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect person and he’s not—“ she cut herself off for a moment and as you glanced at Eddie you saw the pain in his eyes as she spoke. “—and then the colors went away so I knew that it wasn’t true.”

As the words left her mouth all Eddie heard was that he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t right. He was too imperfect. Too loud. Too brash. Too opinionated. Too weird. Too much and simultaneously not enough.

Steve looked at you then, “Do you see them?” He asked. You could only nod, not able to meet your best friend's eyes any more.

Chrissy’s face twisted in hurt as she looked between you and Steve. Her best friend and the man she had fallen for. Soulmates.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Eddie asked Chrissy, his voice laced with disdain for her.

“Shut up Eddie!” Steve snarled. He turned back to Chrissy and took her hands in his. “Look I…I don’t care,” he began, his face softening as he looked down at the woman before him. “I don’t care if I don’t see the colors with you. These last few months I…I fell in love with you. I love you. I don’t care what the stupid universe says, I want you.”

They kissed, and it burned you. Like a fire poker straight out of the flames, stabbing through your chest, piercing your very soul. All those years of not even entertaining the idea of finding your soulmate and yet you did, only for him to choose someone else. It was unheard of. Nobody who actually found their soulmates rejected them...right?

You didn’t even know Steve. But having your worst fear come true right before your eyes made your heart snap in two.

Your colors weren’t bright enough for him after all.

You couldn’t stay there. You couldn’t watch them together. So you ran. Chrissy called your name, but you didn’t hear her.

Steve turned to Eddie only to meet his friends stare, icy and cold. “Eddie–” he started to say. But he didn’t want to hear it. So he turned on his heel and left.

Eddie didn’t go home. He wasn’t sure where he could go. Steve’s place was out of the question and the last thing he needed was to be around the lovebirds Gareth and Paul. Instead, he found another bar. He sat in the corner, alone, and drank away. Getting lost in the bottle in hopes of forgetting her face, Steve’s face and even yours.

The pain in it reflected his own and he wanted to erase the memory of it from his mind. He wanted to eradicate all memory of the colors, of that feeling, of the time he believed in soulmates and sought his own out. He was young and naive then. He’d never make that mistake again.

By the morning he would call his manager and ask him to cut the break short. He’d be back on the road and out of this city. Far away from the messy disaster it had all become. Far away from all talk of soulmates and fate and colors. He’d disappear into the music for a few more months.

Only this time he hoped he could stay gone. For good.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You had walked for a block with your arms hugged around yourself. Not sure of where you could go, you sat on the curb. Cars whizzed by you, but you paid them no mind as tears poured from your eyes. The pavement was cold and scratchy under your thighs as you hid your face in your hands and cried.

He didn’t want you. You should have expected it. He wasn’t yours, he was Chrissy’s. You didn’t even know him.

So then why did it burn?

As you lifted your head up from your hands and wiped your tears you looked around at the bright night of the city before you. The colors were gone. Just as quickly as they had appeared they were gone again, and your sobs filled the silence of the night.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 →

Thank you for reading! I hope I can keep this writing momentum going. Reblogs and comments are appreciated and cherished! ♥️

Special thanks to my Nibs @paybacksawitch for beta reading this for me, ily thank you for always being so supportive and talking me down whenever I get too in my head about things.

I do not give permission to have my work copied, translated, reposted on any platform, or put into any AI programs.

Dividers by yours truly

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Hi taglists!! I missed you guys 🥹

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[eddiesdaydream]

18+

A/N: After hours filth. Your boyfriend catching you getting off.

~*~

You should’ve known that your idea would’ve gotten you into this predicament. Caught red handed, legs wide open and knees cool from tile flooring, thighs aching with twisted blood rush. The silicone is pressed deep inside, your hands still resting on your nipples - just how he found you. It’s not hard to decipher what’s going on when he blinks the sleep from his eyes, caramel tresses in disarray, chain nestled in his overgrown chest hair, bare feet, and a pair of his black briefs, ones not concealing a damn thing, especially now.

“What’s this?” He questions, that honey heating up, rasp still clinging to his tongue.

You know he’d never shame you or control your pleasure, despite you being a couple. It’s a playful curiosity, yet one that borders on jealousy. Steve Harrington, with twitch of his jaw that makes that mole dance, those lips look more pronounced as he licks across them, tongue lolling out so far that it reaches his stubble bitten skin — is jealous of your dildo.

“My toy.” Is your soft response.

He shifts in the doorway, his length growing beneath the fabric, pressing uncomfortably. Bare feet pad on the floors until he’s kneeling in front of you, tilting his head to see you spread around it. And god, when he looks at you, nostrils inhaling, pupils blown so wide that remaining sleep curls away like wafting smoke, a thin amber ring surrounding an enriching black ink. You find yourself holding your breath as he leans in, nose nudging yours, breath hot on your mouth. His hand raises to cradle your cheek, thumb pad brushing ever-so-lightly.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” He plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I…” you accidentally move on the toy and let out a gasp into him.

He pretends to mock, mouth finding that space behind your ear that makes your hands drop from your chest and reach for his shoulders, digging in.

“You, what? Hmm, honey?”

“You’ve been working, so I just didn’t want to take your sleep away from you, baby. That’s all.” It’s the truth, one that has Steve softening, his gaze filtering back to your own.

“You could’ve used your smaller toys, or your vibrator. I wouldn’t have mind if you stayed in bed with me while you played with yourself, sweetheart.”

Your legs tighten around the length, a whine escaping your throat. An uncomfortable echo. You have to move. You know what will ultimately satisfy you. He knows it too.

“Or is it that you just had to have something inside of you?”

“Steve…” you dig your nails into his shoulder blades and he takes the opportunity to move his hands, letting them slink around your lower back, before locking in tightly, pulling you up against his chest, your naked breasts dragging through the soft curls, his necklace draped across your collarbones.

Both of you so warm, panting, rocking into one another.

“Judging by the size, someone missed my cock, didn’t she?”

“I told you I didn’t want to wake you, please —“

“Shh, honey.” He presses a finger to your lips, his massive palm digging into your lower back, the other on your waist, and he’s lifting you a few inches off the toy, pushing you back down seconds later, his mouth piece finding your earlobe, letting you in on a secret. “Your pussy woke me up. So fucking wet that I could hear you in here.”

Your jaw drops open. “You know I wanted you, I just couldn’t wait.”

A nod that shakes strands across his forehead. He’s perfect as he rises above you, cheeks tinted pink, offering his hands to you, easing you off the cock as you stand fully.

“Jesus Christ, honey. Look between your legs, won’t even have to prep you.”

Embarrassingly, you do look down and catch a strand of creamy arousal drip from your cunt. But Steve loves it, hands shoving into the elastic of his boxers. You’re practically drooling, taste buds ready, saliva pooling across your tongue, settling in the corners of your mouth.

“How do you want me?” You’re immediately blurting.

Steve smirks that signature, shit eating from, strutting the two steps forward, pushing his hand across your cheek, some fingers splayed down over your neck. He taps several times, contemplating.

“I wanna see your face when I give you what you want, and I want to be the one that gives it to you until you’re asleep, for the rest of the night. Do you get it, honey? That okay with you? Just let me take care of you.”

You’re letting him direct you into laying back on the bed, legs wide open, chest exerted in excitement as you watch him peel down his boxers, sticky with desire, collecting over the head of his thick shaft. Absolutely beautiful. Red, dusted in beauty marks, that vein, all the way to those full balls surrounded by his bush. He is receptive to how your eyes light up, body shifting, face wrinkling in discomfort, the need to be taken, to have. He holds onto himself, watching you as he spreads that shine all over, working into his fist, his tongue collected at the side of his inner cheek, poking.

Both of you craving a little extra edge, he senses.

“You want this raw, honey? Just me inside of you, nothing else? Risking-every-damned thing.”

You incline your head at a rapid pace. “Make it happen, Steve.”

That’s all he needs to know.