satelliteddie

[satelliteddie]

merry christmas my loves!! here’s a christmas inspired fic with stevie boy 🫶🏻

I have a new series planned for 2024 & I can’t wait to get back to writing and interacting with all of you!!

-meg

face on a lover with a fire in his heart - s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve is used to spending the holidays alone, especially after he spent it heartbroken last year. so when you finally tell steve you love him, he doesn’t know how to respond.

content warnings: angst (kinda) to fluff, steve not knowing how to communicate, mentions of stancy, talks of christmas/santa, dysfunctional families, kissing

word count: 4.3k

author’s notes: ok I suck and didn’t have a chance to post this on christmas like planned, but!!! happy holidays and merry christmas to all that celebrate!!! the fact Last Christmas came out in 1984?????? this song is so Steve-coded….argue with the wall

Ending every year with month after month of family-centered holidays seems to be the cruelest joke in the world when you have no one to spend them with. It’s just another reminder of how often your days are spent alone; the empty walls and bedrooms laugh at the idea of a family spending time in them. Steve knows the feeling all too well. He’s become accustomed to spending this time of year alone; he used to make excuses for why he would end up by himself…but now? Now he’s just used to it. There was a holiday two years ago that he didn’t spend alone. Running his fingers over a lightly worn Christmas sweater, Steve thinks back to that night with the Wheelers and Byers. One of the last times he truly felt like he was a part of a family during this time of year. It’s been two full years since he wore that itchy, Reindeer-covered jumper, but some part of him still longed for the warmth that night had. Last year when Steve had spotted the sweater amongst his older clothes it tore him apart. Steve felt like he was being pulled apart stitch by stitch; which is why he wanted to pull the cloth apart seam by seam, yet he couldn’t bring himself to. The ugly sweater reminded him of the good nights he had with the Wheelers – the nights where he felt like he had a family. The nights where he felt loved. He loved Nancy… or at least he thought he knew what love was when he was with her. Love didn’t come easily to Steve after Nancy. He was cautious and careful. Granted he would go on dates that wouldn’t lead anywhere, but it was all to get himself back out there. Or just distract himself – he couldn’t be sure. Then almost a year after Nancy had torn him a part at a Halloween party, you put him back together. Steve grins as his mind shuts off his negative thoughts about his past and focuses on you. He hoped you two could spend your first Christmas as a couple together, but he understood when you told him about your prior plans. Steve would never want to take you from your family or make you feel guilty about his lack of one. Instead he stayed home as the snow fell outside, reminiscing over past Christmases. He unfolds the sweater to get a better look at it, he tilts his head looking at the pattern.

“What the hell is that?” Your voice startles Steve from his stare on the sweater. He’s almost convinced you're a fathom of his imagination until you step further into the room, your eyes scanning over the material, “That is hideous.”

“Hey! I liked this sweater,” Steve pretends to be insulted as he laughs. You squat down, sitting next to him and all of the half-empty Christmas decor boxes. Your eyes light up as you look over all of the garlands, ribbons, nutcrackers, candles, and other decorations. Steve folds the sweater, tucking it away in its box next to the other containers scattered in the room.

“Steve,” you brush the stray curls on the side of his face behind his ear. “I’m sure you wore the hell out of it, but it’s still hideous.” Steve shakes his head as he tries to hide his smile, turning to you with a blush covering his cheeks. His large hands rise from his thighs and brace the sides of your cheeks. Steve brings your face to his, resting your foreheads together with a content smile. Steve leans forward, pressing a featherlight kiss to your mouth. “Hi handsome,” you smirk as you continue to look at him. Steve shut his eyes, moving his thumbs over the high points of your cheeks while a grin still pulls at his mouth.

“Hi baby,” he finally blinks open his honey colored eyes. Steve hesitates before he pulls back, leaving his hands lingering on your face. He watches you as you smile up at him, inching forward to get as close as humanly possible. Steve moves his fingers down the sides of your face and over your arms before finding your hands; he doesn’t want to ask, worried this moment will end too soon, but he has to know if you’re leaving him alone again.

“I thought you were going to your parents for Christmas Eve?” His eyes dip down to where your hands are connected. Steve looks back up to you with wide eyes, “not that I don’t want you here, I- I do. God, I do. I just–”

“Steve–”

“Sorry that sounded shitty. Of course, I want you here. I just don't want your parents–”

“Steve,” you pull your hands from his and rest a gentle hand over his mouth. You can practically feel his smile against your palm. You drop your hand from his mouth and cup his jaw into it, “I was supposed to go to their house, but I wanted to be here with you. If that’s okay?”

Steve is sure his heart could burst out of his chest with the way you’re looking at him and how soft your voice sounds. “Yeah- yeah. Of course,” he stammers out.

“So what exactly are you doing with all this stuff?” You turn away from Steve and he’s already disappointed to have lost your undivided attention. You stand from the floor, rummaging through the storage bins, pulling out a decorative wreath. You hold the decor in your hands and turn to your boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, “it’s Christmas. Shouldn’t this all be up?”

Steve wasn’t sure how to respond where the answer wasn’t completely depressing. He has some decorations up around his large house, just enough to make it look somewhat festive. The tree was up and decorated just enough to look like a Christmas tree and not something Steve lugged in from outside. Yet there were endless boxes of ornaments, wreaths, ribbons, toys, and collectibles from the years where his parents were actually home to celebrate. Now that Steve was older and no longer believed in the magic of Christmas, his parents didn’t bat an eye when a conference was during Christmas or a business trip fell on Thanksgiving. With his childhood home now becoming a Bachelor pad, Steve didn’t feel the need to decorate for these holidays that passed by as if they were just any other day.

“Just didn’t have time to put it all up,” he shrugs as if there's no more meaning to it. You look back at Steve with cautious eyes, watching every feature. You know he’s lying, but there’s no point in calling him out on it now.

“Do you want it up?” You ask, gently running your fingers through the fake pine branches on the wreath. You try to make your tone as light as possible, not wanting to push him. “We could do it now, it might be fun.”

“You- you would do that?”

“Of course I would,” you place the decoration down, putting out a hand to Steve. He looks up at it from the floor before a lopsided grin ghosts his lips. Slipping his hand into yours, Steve stands up from the floor stumbling into you; your chests press together in a clumsy laugh. “But you have to help.”

“Babe-”

“No, nope. You help or I leave,” you tease, rocking back and forth on your heels. You look up at Steve with the biggest puppy eyes you can manage, pouting your lip for good measure. Steve melts under your soft glare, there’s no way to say no to you…it’s almost criminal.

“Fine,” he acts defeated, but he was always going to help you. Steve’s convinced if you asked him to follow you into hell he would without hesitation. He’s downright infatuated with you. Head over heels. Lovesick. Weak in the knees obsessed. He’s completely in love. He has loved you for longer than he would care to admit — but his mind couldn’t allow him to believe in it again. To believe in love means being vulnerable and open to the harm that comes from the person you give your heart to. He had already lived through that tragic tale of an unreciprocated love. It nearly killed him — even more so than the Upside Down. Telling you he was in love with you meant he would have to be on display again. He just couldn’t face it. Not yet.

“Where should we start?” Steve asks, resting his hands on the sides of your face.

“That’s easy,” you step away from him. Grabbing a box with Steve’s mothers handwriting scrawled across the cardboard. “Ornaments.”

❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅

The turntable spins, a Nat King Cole record playing on a low volume in the living room. Steve sits against the soft cushions of the couch watching as you fix the final ornaments on the tree. He loves watching how focused you get with even the smallest of tasks. Your tongue caught between your lips, the end curled up towards your nose. Steve remembers the first time he saw you do it while restocking records at the store across from Scoops. It reminded him of Eddie and immediately warmed his heart; Eddie had played wingman and therapist while Steve agonized over asking you out. Being that he was your best friend, Eddie put in the good word with you and nearly tripped over himself running back across the mall to tell Steve you were totally into him. There’s no guarantee that without Eddie’s meddling you two would have ever ended up together. You were too intimidated by King Steve, while Steve was worried you wouldn’t be impressed by the high school graduate who worked at an ice cream shop. And you weren’t impressed by his job….instead you were impressed by Steve. He wasn’t the same king that he used to be. He was warm and inviting yet, protective and timid…a complete sweetheart. It didn’t take long for you to fall for Steve, adoring every part of him. You were in love with him. There was no stopping it. You tried to keep it inside until Steve was ready to say those three words back to you, but you know it could be a long time coming. His dating history wasn’t the best and the most stable relationship in his life was also the most unstable. You could see it in his eyes and how he held you close that he loved you. You just wished you could hear it.

Eventually after months of dating, Steve had memorized any and all things y/n-related. He knew your favorite songs, least favorite movies, ideal date spots, the way your eyes lit up at the sight of a puppy, the smile you would give friends and the smile you would give him. Steve always held you close, gave you his jacket without hesitation, and warmed you inside and out even in the freezing December weather. A couple weeks ago, you laid against Steve’s chest against the sofa as the fireplace warmed both of you. The glow of the fireplace had you feeling like the inside of a toasted marshmallow; you wanted to melt into Steve and stay here forever. He made you feel safe, loved, and happy. So in the comfort of his arms, those three words slipped from your lips and into the air. The temperature seemed to drop in the millisecond of silence. Steve immediately tilted your chin towards his face near your shoulder, pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss was firm as his large hands cupped your cheeks, bringing you closer to him. You twisted in Steve’s arms, straddling his spread thighs and deepening the kiss. Steve’s soft mouth slid over yours, opening just enough to drag his tongue along your bottom lip. Eventually, Steve pulled away from you, his hands still on your face with a knowing look in his hazel eyes. He didn’t have to say it, you just knew. Steve did love you, you just had to wait until he was ready to say it.

Steve blinks harshly, realizing he’s been staring at you as you stare at the tree. Bringing up his hands to his face, Steve rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm before resting his chin in it. “You’re so pretty,” he gushes.

“Steve,” you say, shifting weight between your legs as you continue to focus on the tree. “Do you have a star?”

A smile pulls at his lips as he watches you, “did you hear me?”

“Yes, thank you,” you cast a quick look over your shoulder. “But do you have a star?”

“It’s upstairs,” Steve grins, beginning to stand. “I’ll go—”

“No, sit.” You insist, pushing him back down to his seat, “I’ll go find it. Just look at the tree and see where we can put these.” You drop the last two ornaments onto Steve’s lap, scurrying off to find the tree topper. He looks up at the 10 foot tree in the corner of the expansive living room. You’ve twirled garland around the staircase railings, added ribbons to doorways, twinkle lights (he didn’t even know he owned) to the windows, and small figurines to every ledge. Steve tried to help you decorate, but instead found himself watching you. The joy you felt during the holidays radiates off of you, warming the walls of his house. He looks down at the two ornaments you gave him; one that you gifted him during your first Christmas as friends. A small, fragile glass ornament shaped to look like a baseball bat. You told him you always thought the bat-spin was sexy after he opened it. Steve nearly fell over hearing the words from you. The second one was a small ornament frame holding a photo of The Party and all their older, teenage counterparts. Steve stands from the couch finally and places the two decorations side by side on tree branches. He steps back to look at his handiwork, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Even though he doesn’t hear you, he feels you behind him even before your one arm wraps around his waist. You press a kiss to his shoulder blades, resting your cheek against his back.

“Did you find it?” Steve asks, his eyes focused on your palm against his tummy. Your fingers brushing over the soft material of his shirt.

“Yep,” your other hand comes into view, the wire star held in your fingers. Steve chuckles looking down at the decoration in your small hands, he takes it from your grasp and spins around to face you. “Want to put it up?” You ask with a bashful smile.

“Nope,” Steve hands it back to you as you pout. In an instant, Steve bends down to sweep you off your feet and into his arms. “You’re going to.” He places you down on the cushions of the couch, squatting down slightly and patting his shoulders. “C’mon,” Steve slaps his shoulders again as you giggle. “Get on.”

“Steve, we’re going to knock the tree over if I fall.”

“So don’t fall,” Steve says with a sarcastic shrug. “I won’t drop you.” His words are so sure and confident that you don’t ask again, you just slip your legs over his collarbones, until you sit on his shoulders. Steve’s large hands brace your thighs against his body, your feet hooking behind them just to be safe. He stands to his full height, bringing you closer to the tree. You place the star on the top branch, settling it down and twisting it until it sits straight. You give a satisfied ruffle to Steve’s hair as he shuffles backwards to see the finished product.

“Good?” He asks, looking up at you through his eyebrows.

“Perfect,” you grin. Steve slowly squats down near the couch again, laying you against the plush cushions. He quickly spins in between your thighs to face you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your legs. He crawls up your chest to hover over you on the couch; Steve leans down and presses his mouth against yours. His hands tangle in your hair as yours trail over his chest, your lips dancing over each other. Steve’s tongue licks over your bottom lip gently before working into your mouth. You melt into him like you always do, pulling him closer by his shirt trying to keep him as close as you can. Steve released a satisfied hum, pulling away from your mouth and covering your neck with sloppy kisses. You move your hands from his chest into Steve’s curls keeping his face against your skin. He presses one more open mouth kiss to your jawline before settling his face into your neck.

“Thank you for letting me decorate,” you whisper, fingers still carding through his hair. Steve’s heart flips in his chest, she’s thanking me? His brain feels like it’s turned into a puddle under your touch and soft words.

“Baby,” he smiles against your skin. He leans up to look at you, holding your chin in between his fingers. “Thank you for decorating. You’re making me want to actually enjoy the holidays.” You nod slowly and give Steve one of those smiles that’s only reserved for him. Steve moves his hand from your chin and cups your cheek. You lean into his touch, eyelids drooping slightly. “Ready for bed?” Steve asks as your eyes grow more tired.

“It’s the only way Santa will come,” you grin as Steve laughs. You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, preparing for him to lift you off the couch. It’s a movement that you both have practiced several times when you wrap yourself around Steve like a koala. He stands from the couch without missing a beat, sliding his hands under your butt to carry you up the stairs. You both plop into Steve’s bed, nestling into the soft comforter. Steve tosses his shirt aside for you to take, sleeping only in his plaid pajama pants. While you take the opposite approach, slipping into Steve’s discarded shirt and pushing your pants off and onto the floor. Steve lays against his pillows, arms spread out open for you to crawl into. You waste no time tucking yourself into his side, using Steve’s warm skin as your personal heater. Steve presses a kiss to the top of your hair as you toss a leg over his waist. Finally settled into each other, sleep starts to creep in while Steve admires you. He moves his fingers over your arms, drawing mindless shapes onto your skin.

“Thank you.” He wants to tell you he loves you, but all that comes out is: “thank you,” he repeats. You shuffle beside him, resting your chin on his ribs to look up at him in the darkness of the room. His eyes hold an anxious look in them that you know all too well. Steve’s heart slams against his chest and you can feel it against your fingers. He can’t even think straight as he looks at you, but his mouth continues to fail him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he says again with a heavy blink.

You give a half smile, pressing a kiss to his chest, “I know.”

❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅

“Steve.” You turn over, brushing your fingers over his biceps. The early morning light breaking through the windows.

“Steve,” you repeat, which earns a sleepy groan. He lifts the comforter higher to tuck it under his chin, nuzzling his body closer to yours. Steve’s back presses to your chest, mumbling scattered words but no real sentences.

“No,” he utters. Steve turns in your arms, cuddling into you. Steve’s strong arms work around your waist, pulling you even closer. His chestnut hair tickles your face as he moves and places himself under your face, curled into your chest. “Tired. Warm.”

You hum as you run a hand through his hair, keeping his face as close to your body as you can manage, “but Stevie.” You try once more, adding his nickname, that only he allows you to call him, and a sticky sweetness to your tone.

“What?” Steve pressed his forehead to your rib cage, eyes still closed. He clearly has no intention of moving hand time soon with how warm you feel against his skin and the soft touches of your fingers through his hair. You lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his head as you brush away stray curls.

“Santa came,” you whisper. Steve pulls back from your chest, blinking quickly to clear his eyes.

“What did you just say?” He asks, but his words are slurred from his exhaustion.

You slide down your pillow to be at eyeline with Steve, “Santa came. It’s officially Christmas.”

“Santa?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, finally making eye contact with you. “Baby, Santa’s not—”

“Shh,” you raise a finger to his lips, which he immediately presses a kiss to. “He came. There’s presents, I saw ‘em.”

“What?” Steve asks again, shifting up onto his elbows to look down at you. You grin, your hair fanned out over the soft pillows. “What are you talking about?”

“Just come with me,” you roll out from under the covers and wait at the edge of the bed for Steve. With a groan he tosses on a shirt from his dresser, stands and follows you out the bedroom door. Trailing close behind you, Steve’s steps falter on the stairs as he sees the Christmas tree. The lights twinkle amongst the evergreen branches, ornaments catching the light and spreading it further. Beneath the tree, the old tree skirt is no longer visible under the piles of gifts. It’s like Steve has been dropped into one of those cheesy Christmas movies; everything sparkles and shines, his house feels a lot more like a home at this moment. His eyes flick back to find you at the end of the stairs waiting for him. The glow of the Christmas lights ghosts over your face, causing you to look like a fucking goddess. He utters your name, just barely above a whisper as he stands on the stairs.

“You- how did you do this?” Steve’s at a loss for words as his focus continues to jump between you and the tree.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play coy, “I didn’t do a thing.”

“Baby—”

“It’s Christmas magic, Steve,” you pull him close by the edge of his tee, causing him to come down the final two stairs. “Just enjoy it.”

Steve leans into your touch, tilting his face down to rest his forehead on yours. You grin looking up at Steve with crossed eyes; he swears you’ve never looked cuter than you do right now. Taking in every feature and emotion in his face, waiting to see if your genius plan paid off to earn you a full smile from him. It works. Steve’s eyes soften completely as his pretty mouth curves up into a toothy grin. He pulls away just for a second, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his thumbs brush over your creeks. Steve watches as your smile doubles its size and the blush covering your face deepens. It only encourages him to cover more of your skin with kisses. He presses his lips to your temples, cheekbones, under your eyes, tip of your nose, jawline, Cupid’s bow, and anywhere else his mouth can reach. Your giggles are contagious as you squirm under Steve’s touch; trying both to get away from his assault of kisses, but also get closer to him. Steve stops once he knows he’s covered every centimeter of skin, rubbing his nose against yours. His mouth hovering over yours, “I love you.”

“You do?”

Steve’s heart nearly falls out of his chest hearing the nerves woven into your question. Of course he loved you.

“Yes, baby,” his nose brushes yours again. “I love you so fucking much. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before I just-”

You lean up to press a soft kiss to his Cupid’s bow, stopping Steve mid sentence. “I know. It’s okay,” another kiss to his top lip. “I knew you did. You just had to say it in your own time.”

Steve tips his head back, shaking his head in disbelief. How are you real? Is this real? He looks back down at you with misty eyes, “fuck. You’re too good to me.”

“No,” you wrap your arms around his waist, snuggling into his chest. You peer up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “you’re too good to me. I just try to give you what you deserve.”

“But I don’t—”

“Don’t you dare say you don’t deserve this,” you immediately step back from him. Your voice is stern, but filled with adoration as you continue. “Steve, you deserve the fucking world, baby. The world. The universe. The universes beyond ours. If I could go up and pluck a star out of the sky and give it to you I would. These presents, the decorations, my love for you…it doesn’t even begin to scrape the surface of what you deserve. But I’ll die trying to give you everything you do.”

Steve wraps his hands around your wrists, tugging you back to him. His eyes have gone misty again, dropping your hands and wrapping his arms around your small frame. He rubs his hands up and down over your back, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper into his chest. He pulls you away from his body to flash you a perfect smile. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅

i wanna spend christmas with stevie I’m pissed

happy holidays to all that celebrate them! even if you don’t have any one to be with this season, my inbox is always open, we can spend it together <<33

masterlist ❅ requests ❅

-meg

[satelliteddie]

happy 13th bubs :)

icymi here’s a friday the 13th inspired fic from couple months ago…I’ll be back to writing soon, too many ideas and too much going on to sit down and write a fic I love rn — anyways, enjoy xoxo

-meg

friday the 13th - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x popular fem!reader

summary: you and eddie have a standing best friends date every friday the 13th to watch your favorite horror movies. after you get asked out on a date for the same day, eddie is worried you forgot about him.

content warnings: mention of smoking/drugs, mutual pining, first kiss, jealous!eddie

word count: 2.9k

author’s notes: this was requested! so if there are any other requests please submit them, i love hearing yalls ideas – also, yes eddie graduates high school in this….it’s what he deserved….anyways….

Keep reading

[satelliteddie]

❤️ anon love bomb! ❤️

if you receive this, it means you're one of my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE writers here, and there's a high chance i've read AND re-read your wonderful works multiple times lmao 🥹 thank you for all that you do — for sharing your amazing talent with the people here, for taking your readers' requests, for listening to what the audience wants, for constantly trying to be better (even if you're already SO SO GOOD), and for doing all these FOR FREE. you're doing god's work fr and we can never thank you enough ❤️ i love you!

this is the sweetest thing to come back to after not being on this app for weeks….I could cry 🥹🫶🏻

I love YOU anon, thank you thank you thank you x1000

I have so many things planned/ideas to be written, but yknow how life loves to throw a million things at you at once??? yeah well, when it rains it pours…hopefully I’ll have some new fics up for you all very soon :)

-meg

[satelliteddie]

and if I write a one-shot based off of this song…. What then???

[satelliteddie]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

“Can’t you just— can’t you just go?” “I’m not leaving you alone until you’re okay.”

with stevie? bc i know my ass would say some dumb shit to push him away just to see if he’d choose to stay🫣🥺

ily hunny!!!

who could stay?

pairing: steve harrington x f!reader

word count: 700+

warnings: nothing rlly, steve comforting u, reader having a bad day anndd just some fluff! a little kiss, and VV cheesy!

a/n: kait you're so real for this and this prompt is just so arghhh and cute i wanna d word i love steve sm and i def feel u bc i would so do this and i hope i did it justice bb ily <33 also i listened to the archer when writing this it is heavily inspired by it lmao💗😭

join my birthday celebration!

you never knew what came over you when you were upset, ready to push away anything and anyone, at the expense of your own happiness.

you knew you didn't want to be alone, you knew you wanted someone to be there for you, comforting you, taking care of you.

but you couldn't help but push everyone away, just to see if they would see through you, if they could see through the cold front you put up, just to see if they would stay, even when you asked them to leave.

"'m fine..." you muttered, your eyes glossy as you avoided his, steve was gentle with how he treated you, sat next to you as his knees softly brushed against yours, his hand comfortingly placed on your thighs for reassurance.

he shook his head, he didn't believe you, he knew something was wrong, he knew something had upset you, and he wasn't going to leave until he was sure everything was okay.

he studied your face, taking all of your features in, his mind fuzzy with how beautiful you were, and worry took over him as he saw how your face soured and fell, he wanted to be there for you.

"you don't look fine, sweetheart." his voice was dipped in honey, ever so sweet and the nickname was enough to have your heart pounding out of your chest, but you didn't want him to see you like this, you didn't want to break down in front of him.

"you don't have to worry about it." your voice was cold, tone barely audible, but steve didn't mind.

and you hated that he didn't mind it, you didn't want to hurt him, you didn't want to ruin him with your own fucked up mind, you had a lot of bad days and you never wanted to drag him down with you, he deserved better than that, he didn't deserve to be sucked up in your own darkness.

"honey..." his hand was quick to caress your cheeks, "are you kidding me?" his tone was mellow as his finger tips gently grazed against your chin, lifting up to make you face him.

his dreamy eyes met your glossy ones, his brows furrowed with worry as he saw your bottom lip jutting out, smudged mascara and your puffy nose giving you away.

his heart ached at the sight of you, he wanted to help you, make you feel seen, take care of you.

"i will always worry about you, sweetheart." you winced when he said that, even though his words were warming your heart, you didn't want him to go through your pain.

"i don't want you to." your tone was avoidant, your eyes were anything but, you were wishing he could pick up on it, wishing he could see how hurt you were, but the words that escaped your lips wanted to push him away.

"can't you just..." you tried to stop your words, you knew the last thing you wanted was for him to leave, you wanted him to stay more than anything, but you didn't know how to ask for help.

"can't you just leave." you faced away from him, harshly, and steve's stomach twisted with how you were acting, he knew you didn't mean it, he knew you needed him, he saw right through you, even though you didn't realize it.

you expected him to leave you, you expected him to sigh at your stand off-ish attitude, leaving you all alone.

what you didn't expect was, "no." leaving steve's pouty lips as he shook his head at you. "i'm not leaving you alone, not until you're okay." his gaze was sympathetic, his tone soft and hands squeezing yours in a comforting manner.

"i'll be silent if you need me to, but i'm not leaving you alone, you're trying to push me away, but i won't let you, not until i know you are okay." his brows furrowed in worry again, not blinking as he observed you.

you couldn't help the small smile your lips twitched into, beaming at the fact that steve had chosen to stay, that steve didn't leave you alone. he saw you.

you couldn't help the sobs that escaped your lips, so raw and gut-wrenching that steve immediately wrapped his arms around you, his heart aching with sympathy as he engulfed you with his warmth.

you embraced him, and you let him take care of you, "thank you, stevie." you murmured into his chest between your sobs, he understood you in a way no one could.

"anything for you, honey." his touch was tender as he pressed kisses into your hair, telling you everything he loved about you as he murmured affections into your hair.

his sickly sweet tone and his comforting grip on you making you realize that, steve was there for you, always.

[satelliteddie]

<3

[satelliteddie]

16+ implied smut

— masterlist.

cuddling with steve post sex would be so lovely. he’s on the verge of falling asleep. he always is after he takes you there (sometimes multiple times). but he’s in nothing but his boxers and you’ve thrown your underwear back on and picked up one of his t shirts off the floor to wear. when you crawl back into bed he outstretches his arm so you can nestle up right beside him and he pulls you in by your waist so you’re almost on top of him. you’ve got your head situated in the crook of his neck, tracing patterns on his chest. he moves the arm wrapped around you so that he can pet your hair. and then he grabs the hand that’s on his chest and clasps your hands together. he starts dozing off but you nudge his cheek with your nose and he opens one eye to look at you and he gives you a hint of a smile then kisses your temple and down your face to your lips. you adjust yourself and bring the hand that he isn’t holding up to trace the bridge of his nose and whisper “i love you” he really can barely keep his eyes open now but as he’s falling back asleep he tells you he loves you too. and after he’s fallen asleep you can’t help but watch his peaceful face and the way his chest rises and falls. being in his arms like this is your happy place

[satelliteddie]

#He wanted to seduce him :(

[satelliteddie]

Iona….you’re too nice to me uGH thank you xoxoxox

Iona's Fic Recs

I said I was going to make regular rec lists so here are some I have read over the last couple of weeks that stood out to me, since we are days away from New Year I decided to include a few of my favourites for the whole year 🥰

If you enjoy any of the below please show them the appreciation they deserve and tell them, it makes all the difference 💕

🔥 means it contains smut so for 18+ eyes only

New Favourites

A Simple Holiday Favour by @gaybybirth 🔥

For A Good Time, Call by @sebuckyverse 🔥 (Five part series)

Give You The Moon by @keeryshouse 🔥

Afternoon Delight by @hellfirehottie420 🔥

Untitled drabble about Eddie and Wayne by @ghosttownwherenoonegoes

A Kiss On The Mouth by @eddie-van-munson

Favourites of the Year

This Is How It Starts by @chainsawmunson 🔥

Baby, Slow It Down and it's follow up Baby, Kiss Me Quick by @upsidedownwithsteve 🔥

Hands-On Experience by @ladyfogg 🔥

June Baby by @luveline (Series - I think still ongoing)

Good Boy by @peterthepark 🔥

All Mine by @littledemondani 🔥

Showstopper by @denim-mixtapes 🔥

Rumour (Series) by @msgexymunson 🔥

Show Me by @roanniom 🔥

Love of my Life by @satelliteddie🔥

Magic Fingers by @eddie-van-munson🔥

Thank you all for sharing your amazing talents! I can't wait to see what your brilliant minds come up with in 2023 💕

[satelliteddie]

face on a lover with a fire in his heart - s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve is used to spending the holidays alone, especially after he spent it heartbroken last year. so when you finally tell steve you love him, he doesn’t know how to respond.

content warnings: angst (kinda) to fluff, steve not knowing how to communicate, mentions of stancy, talks of christmas/santa, dysfunctional families, kissing

word count: 4.3k

author’s notes: ok I suck and didn’t have a chance to post this on christmas like planned, but!!! happy holidays and merry christmas to all that celebrate!!! the fact Last Christmas came out in 1984?????? this song is so Steve-coded….argue with the wall

Ending every year with month after month of family-centered holidays seems to be the cruelest joke in the world when you have no one to spend them with. It’s just another reminder of how often your days are spent alone; the empty walls and bedrooms laugh at the idea of a family spending time in them. Steve knows the feeling all too well. He’s become accustomed to spending this time of year alone; he used to make excuses for why he would end up by himself…but now? Now he’s just used to it. There was a holiday two years ago that he didn’t spend alone. Running his fingers over a lightly worn Christmas sweater, Steve thinks back to that night with the Wheelers and Byers. One of the last times he truly felt like he was a part of a family during this time of year. It’s been two full years since he wore that itchy, Reindeer-covered jumper, but some part of him still longed for the warmth that night had. Last year when Steve had spotted the sweater amongst his older clothes it tore him apart. Steve felt like he was being pulled apart stitch by stitch; which is why he wanted to pull the cloth apart seam by seam, yet he couldn’t bring himself to. The ugly sweater reminded him of the good nights he had with the Wheelers – the nights where he felt like he had a family. The nights where he felt loved. He loved Nancy… or at least he thought he knew what love was when he was with her. Love didn’t come easily to Steve after Nancy. He was cautious and careful. Granted he would go on dates that wouldn’t lead anywhere, but it was all to get himself back out there. Or just distract himself – he couldn’t be sure. Then almost a year after Nancy had torn him a part at a Halloween party, you put him back together. Steve grins as his mind shuts off his negative thoughts about his past and focuses on you. He hoped you two could spend your first Christmas as a couple together, but he understood when you told him about your prior plans. Steve would never want to take you from your family or make you feel guilty about his lack of one. Instead he stayed home as the snow fell outside, reminiscing over past Christmases. He unfolds the sweater to get a better look at it, he tilts his head looking at the pattern.

“What the hell is that?” Your voice startles Steve from his stare on the sweater. He’s almost convinced you're a fathom of his imagination until you step further into the room, your eyes scanning over the material, “That is hideous.”

“Hey! I liked this sweater,” Steve pretends to be insulted as he laughs. You squat down, sitting next to him and all of the half-empty Christmas decor boxes. Your eyes light up as you look over all of the garlands, ribbons, nutcrackers, candles, and other decorations. Steve folds the sweater, tucking it away in its box next to the other containers scattered in the room.

“Steve,” you brush the stray curls on the side of his face behind his ear. “I’m sure you wore the hell out of it, but it’s still hideous.” Steve shakes his head as he tries to hide his smile, turning to you with a blush covering his cheeks. His large hands rise from his thighs and brace the sides of your cheeks. Steve brings your face to his, resting your foreheads together with a content smile. Steve leans forward, pressing a featherlight kiss to your mouth. “Hi handsome,” you smirk as you continue to look at him. Steve shut his eyes, moving his thumbs over the high points of your cheeks while a grin still pulls at his mouth.

“Hi baby,” he finally blinks open his honey colored eyes. Steve hesitates before he pulls back, leaving his hands lingering on your face. He watches you as you smile up at him, inching forward to get as close as humanly possible. Steve moves his fingers down the sides of your face and over your arms before finding your hands; he doesn’t want to ask, worried this moment will end too soon, but he has to know if you’re leaving him alone again.

“I thought you were going to your parents for Christmas Eve?” His eyes dip down to where your hands are connected. Steve looks back up to you with wide eyes, “not that I don’t want you here, I- I do. God, I do. I just–”

“Steve–”

“Sorry that sounded shitty. Of course, I want you here. I just don't want your parents–”

“Steve,” you pull your hands from his and rest a gentle hand over his mouth. You can practically feel his smile against your palm. You drop your hand from his mouth and cup his jaw into it, “I was supposed to go to their house, but I wanted to be here with you. If that’s okay?”

Steve is sure his heart could burst out of his chest with the way you’re looking at him and how soft your voice sounds. “Yeah- yeah. Of course,” he stammers out.

“So what exactly are you doing with all this stuff?” You turn away from Steve and he’s already disappointed to have lost your undivided attention. You stand from the floor, rummaging through the storage bins, pulling out a decorative wreath. You hold the decor in your hands and turn to your boyfriend with a raised eyebrow, “it’s Christmas. Shouldn’t this all be up?”

Steve wasn’t sure how to respond where the answer wasn’t completely depressing. He has some decorations up around his large house, just enough to make it look somewhat festive. The tree was up and decorated just enough to look like a Christmas tree and not something Steve lugged in from outside. Yet there were endless boxes of ornaments, wreaths, ribbons, toys, and collectibles from the years where his parents were actually home to celebrate. Now that Steve was older and no longer believed in the magic of Christmas, his parents didn’t bat an eye when a conference was during Christmas or a business trip fell on Thanksgiving. With his childhood home now becoming a Bachelor pad, Steve didn’t feel the need to decorate for these holidays that passed by as if they were just any other day.

“Just didn’t have time to put it all up,” he shrugs as if there's no more meaning to it. You look back at Steve with cautious eyes, watching every feature. You know he’s lying, but there’s no point in calling him out on it now.

“Do you want it up?” You ask, gently running your fingers through the fake pine branches on the wreath. You try to make your tone as light as possible, not wanting to push him. “We could do it now, it might be fun.”

“You- you would do that?”

“Of course I would,” you place the decoration down, putting out a hand to Steve. He looks up at it from the floor before a lopsided grin ghosts his lips. Slipping his hand into yours, Steve stands up from the floor stumbling into you; your chests press together in a clumsy laugh. “But you have to help.”

“Babe-”

“No, nope. You help or I leave,” you tease, rocking back and forth on your heels. You look up at Steve with the biggest puppy eyes you can manage, pouting your lip for good measure. Steve melts under your soft glare, there’s no way to say no to you…it’s almost criminal.

“Fine,” he acts defeated, but he was always going to help you. Steve’s convinced if you asked him to follow you into hell he would without hesitation. He’s downright infatuated with you. Head over heels. Lovesick. Weak in the knees obsessed. He’s completely in love. He has loved you for longer than he would care to admit — but his mind couldn’t allow him to believe in it again. To believe in love means being vulnerable and open to the harm that comes from the person you give your heart to. He had already lived through that tragic tale of an unreciprocated love. It nearly killed him — even more so than the Upside Down. Telling you he was in love with you meant he would have to be on display again. He just couldn’t face it. Not yet.

“Where should we start?” Steve asks, resting his hands on the sides of your face.

“That’s easy,” you step away from him. Grabbing a box with Steve’s mothers handwriting scrawled across the cardboard. “Ornaments.”

❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅

The turntable spins, a Nat King Cole record playing on a low volume in the living room. Steve sits against the soft cushions of the couch watching as you fix the final ornaments on the tree. He loves watching how focused you get with even the smallest of tasks. Your tongue caught between your lips, the end curled up towards your nose. Steve remembers the first time he saw you do it while restocking records at the store across from Scoops. It reminded him of Eddie and immediately warmed his heart; Eddie had played wingman and therapist while Steve agonized over asking you out. Being that he was your best friend, Eddie put in the good word with you and nearly tripped over himself running back across the mall to tell Steve you were totally into him. There’s no guarantee that without Eddie’s meddling you two would have ever ended up together. You were too intimidated by King Steve, while Steve was worried you wouldn’t be impressed by the high school graduate who worked at an ice cream shop. And you weren’t impressed by his job….instead you were impressed by Steve. He wasn’t the same king that he used to be. He was warm and inviting yet, protective and timid…a complete sweetheart. It didn’t take long for you to fall for Steve, adoring every part of him. You were in love with him. There was no stopping it. You tried to keep it inside until Steve was ready to say those three words back to you, but you know it could be a long time coming. His dating history wasn’t the best and the most stable relationship in his life was also the most unstable. You could see it in his eyes and how he held you close that he loved you. You just wished you could hear it.

Eventually after months of dating, Steve had memorized any and all things y/n-related. He knew your favorite songs, least favorite movies, ideal date spots, the way your eyes lit up at the sight of a puppy, the smile you would give friends and the smile you would give him. Steve always held you close, gave you his jacket without hesitation, and warmed you inside and out even in the freezing December weather. A couple weeks ago, you laid against Steve’s chest against the sofa as the fireplace warmed both of you. The glow of the fireplace had you feeling like the inside of a toasted marshmallow; you wanted to melt into Steve and stay here forever. He made you feel safe, loved, and happy. So in the comfort of his arms, those three words slipped from your lips and into the air. The temperature seemed to drop in the millisecond of silence. Steve immediately tilted your chin towards his face near your shoulder, pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss was firm as his large hands cupped your cheeks, bringing you closer to him. You twisted in Steve’s arms, straddling his spread thighs and deepening the kiss. Steve’s soft mouth slid over yours, opening just enough to drag his tongue along your bottom lip. Eventually, Steve pulled away from you, his hands still on your face with a knowing look in his hazel eyes. He didn’t have to say it, you just knew. Steve did love you, you just had to wait until he was ready to say it.

Steve blinks harshly, realizing he’s been staring at you as you stare at the tree. Bringing up his hands to his face, Steve rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm before resting his chin in it. “You’re so pretty,” he gushes.

“Steve,” you say, shifting weight between your legs as you continue to focus on the tree. “Do you have a star?”

A smile pulls at his lips as he watches you, “did you hear me?”

“Yes, thank you,” you cast a quick look over your shoulder. “But do you have a star?”

“It’s upstairs,” Steve grins, beginning to stand. “I’ll go—”

“No, sit.” You insist, pushing him back down to his seat, “I’ll go find it. Just look at the tree and see where we can put these.” You drop the last two ornaments onto Steve’s lap, scurrying off to find the tree topper. He looks up at the 10 foot tree in the corner of the expansive living room. You’ve twirled garland around the staircase railings, added ribbons to doorways, twinkle lights (he didn’t even know he owned) to the windows, and small figurines to every ledge. Steve tried to help you decorate, but instead found himself watching you. The joy you felt during the holidays radiates off of you, warming the walls of his house. He looks down at the two ornaments you gave him; one that you gifted him during your first Christmas as friends. A small, fragile glass ornament shaped to look like a baseball bat. You told him you always thought the bat-spin was sexy after he opened it. Steve nearly fell over hearing the words from you. The second one was a small ornament frame holding a photo of The Party and all their older, teenage counterparts. Steve stands from the couch finally and places the two decorations side by side on tree branches. He steps back to look at his handiwork, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Even though he doesn’t hear you, he feels you behind him even before your one arm wraps around his waist. You press a kiss to his shoulder blades, resting your cheek against his back.

“Did you find it?” Steve asks, his eyes focused on your palm against his tummy. Your fingers brushing over the soft material of his shirt.

“Yep,” your other hand comes into view, the wire star held in your fingers. Steve chuckles looking down at the decoration in your small hands, he takes it from your grasp and spins around to face you. “Want to put it up?” You ask with a bashful smile.

“Nope,” Steve hands it back to you as you pout. In an instant, Steve bends down to sweep you off your feet and into his arms. “You’re going to.” He places you down on the cushions of the couch, squatting down slightly and patting his shoulders. “C’mon,” Steve slaps his shoulders again as you giggle. “Get on.”

“Steve, we’re going to knock the tree over if I fall.”

“So don’t fall,” Steve says with a sarcastic shrug. “I won’t drop you.” His words are so sure and confident that you don’t ask again, you just slip your legs over his collarbones, until you sit on his shoulders. Steve’s large hands brace your thighs against his body, your feet hooking behind them just to be safe. He stands to his full height, bringing you closer to the tree. You place the star on the top branch, settling it down and twisting it until it sits straight. You give a satisfied ruffle to Steve’s hair as he shuffles backwards to see the finished product.

“Good?” He asks, looking up at you through his eyebrows.

“Perfect,” you grin. Steve slowly squats down near the couch again, laying you against the plush cushions. He quickly spins in between your thighs to face you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your legs. He crawls up your chest to hover over you on the couch; Steve leans down and presses his mouth against yours. His hands tangle in your hair as yours trail over his chest, your lips dancing over each other. Steve’s tongue licks over your bottom lip gently before working into your mouth. You melt into him like you always do, pulling him closer by his shirt trying to keep him as close as you can. Steve released a satisfied hum, pulling away from your mouth and covering your neck with sloppy kisses. You move your hands from his chest into Steve’s curls keeping his face against your skin. He presses one more open mouth kiss to your jawline before settling his face into your neck.

“Thank you for letting me decorate,” you whisper, fingers still carding through his hair. Steve’s heart flips in his chest, she’s thanking me? His brain feels like it’s turned into a puddle under your touch and soft words.

“Baby,” he smiles against your skin. He leans up to look at you, holding your chin in between his fingers. “Thank you for decorating. You’re making me want to actually enjoy the holidays.” You nod slowly and give Steve one of those smiles that’s only reserved for him. Steve moves his hand from your chin and cups your cheek. You lean into his touch, eyelids drooping slightly. “Ready for bed?” Steve asks as your eyes grow more tired.

“It’s the only way Santa will come,” you grin as Steve laughs. You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, preparing for him to lift you off the couch. It’s a movement that you both have practiced several times when you wrap yourself around Steve like a koala. He stands from the couch without missing a beat, sliding his hands under your butt to carry you up the stairs. You both plop into Steve’s bed, nestling into the soft comforter. Steve tosses his shirt aside for you to take, sleeping only in his plaid pajama pants. While you take the opposite approach, slipping into Steve’s discarded shirt and pushing your pants off and onto the floor. Steve lays against his pillows, arms spread out open for you to crawl into. You waste no time tucking yourself into his side, using Steve’s warm skin as your personal heater. Steve presses a kiss to the top of your hair as you toss a leg over his waist. Finally settled into each other, sleep starts to creep in while Steve admires you. He moves his fingers over your arms, drawing mindless shapes onto your skin.

“Thank you.” He wants to tell you he loves you, but all that comes out is: “thank you,” he repeats. You shuffle beside him, resting your chin on his ribs to look up at him in the darkness of the room. His eyes hold an anxious look in them that you know all too well. Steve’s heart slams against his chest and you can feel it against your fingers. He can’t even think straight as he looks at you, but his mouth continues to fail him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he says again with a heavy blink.

You give a half smile, pressing a kiss to his chest, “I know.”

❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅

“Steve.” You turn over, brushing your fingers over his biceps. The early morning light breaking through the windows.

“Steve,” you repeat, which earns a sleepy groan. He lifts the comforter higher to tuck it under his chin, nuzzling his body closer to yours. Steve’s back presses to your chest, mumbling scattered words but no real sentences.

“No,” he utters. Steve turns in your arms, cuddling into you. Steve’s strong arms work around your waist, pulling you even closer. His chestnut hair tickles your face as he moves and places himself under your face, curled into your chest. “Tired. Warm.”

You hum as you run a hand through his hair, keeping his face as close to your body as you can manage, “but Stevie.” You try once more, adding his nickname, that only he allows you to call him, and a sticky sweetness to your tone.

“What?” Steve pressed his forehead to your rib cage, eyes still closed. He clearly has no intention of moving hand time soon with how warm you feel against his skin and the soft touches of your fingers through his hair. You lean down, pressing a quick kiss to his head as you brush away stray curls.

“Santa came,” you whisper. Steve pulls back from your chest, blinking quickly to clear his eyes.

“What did you just say?” He asks, but his words are slurred from his exhaustion.

You slide down your pillow to be at eyeline with Steve, “Santa came. It’s officially Christmas.”

“Santa?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, finally making eye contact with you. “Baby, Santa’s not—”

“Shh,” you raise a finger to his lips, which he immediately presses a kiss to. “He came. There’s presents, I saw ‘em.”

“What?” Steve asks again, shifting up onto his elbows to look down at you. You grin, your hair fanned out over the soft pillows. “What are you talking about?”

“Just come with me,” you roll out from under the covers and wait at the edge of the bed for Steve. With a groan he tosses on a shirt from his dresser, stands and follows you out the bedroom door. Trailing close behind you, Steve’s steps falter on the stairs as he sees the Christmas tree. The lights twinkle amongst the evergreen branches, ornaments catching the light and spreading it further. Beneath the tree, the old tree skirt is no longer visible under the piles of gifts. It’s like Steve has been dropped into one of those cheesy Christmas movies; everything sparkles and shines, his house feels a lot more like a home at this moment. His eyes flick back to find you at the end of the stairs waiting for him. The glow of the Christmas lights ghosts over your face, causing you to look like a fucking goddess. He utters your name, just barely above a whisper as he stands on the stairs.

“You- how did you do this?” Steve’s at a loss for words as his focus continues to jump between you and the tree.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play coy, “I didn’t do a thing.”

“Baby—”

“It’s Christmas magic, Steve,” you pull him close by the edge of his tee, causing him to come down the final two stairs. “Just enjoy it.”

Steve leans into your touch, tilting his face down to rest his forehead on yours. You grin looking up at Steve with crossed eyes; he swears you’ve never looked cuter than you do right now. Taking in every feature and emotion in his face, waiting to see if your genius plan paid off to earn you a full smile from him. It works. Steve’s eyes soften completely as his pretty mouth curves up into a toothy grin. He pulls away just for a second, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his thumbs brush over your creeks. Steve watches as your smile doubles its size and the blush covering your face deepens. It only encourages him to cover more of your skin with kisses. He presses his lips to your temples, cheekbones, under your eyes, tip of your nose, jawline, Cupid’s bow, and anywhere else his mouth can reach. Your giggles are contagious as you squirm under Steve’s touch; trying both to get away from his assault of kisses, but also get closer to him. Steve stops once he knows he’s covered every centimeter of skin, rubbing his nose against yours. His mouth hovering over yours, “I love you.”

“You do?”

Steve’s heart nearly falls out of his chest hearing the nerves woven into your question. Of course he loved you.

“Yes, baby,” his nose brushes yours again. “I love you so fucking much. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it before I just-”

You lean up to press a soft kiss to his Cupid’s bow, stopping Steve mid sentence. “I know. It’s okay,” another kiss to his top lip. “I knew you did. You just had to say it in your own time.”

Steve tips his head back, shaking his head in disbelief. How are you real? Is this real? He looks back down at you with misty eyes, “fuck. You’re too good to me.”

“No,” you wrap your arms around his waist, snuggling into his chest. You peer up at him, resting your chin on his chest, “you’re too good to me. I just try to give you what you deserve.”

“But I don’t—”

“Don’t you dare say you don’t deserve this,” you immediately step back from him. Your voice is stern, but filled with adoration as you continue. “Steve, you deserve the fucking world, baby. The world. The universe. The universes beyond ours. If I could go up and pluck a star out of the sky and give it to you I would. These presents, the decorations, my love for you…it doesn’t even begin to scrape the surface of what you deserve. But I’ll die trying to give you everything you do.”

Steve wraps his hands around your wrists, tugging you back to him. His eyes have gone misty again, dropping your hands and wrapping his arms around your small frame. He rubs his hands up and down over your back, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” you whisper into his chest. He pulls you away from his body to flash you a perfect smile. “Merry Christmas, Stevie.”

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❅

i wanna spend christmas with stevie I’m pissed

happy holidays to all that celebrate them! even if you don’t have any one to be with this season, my inbox is always open, we can spend it together <<33

masterlist ❅ requests ❅

-meg

[satelliteddie]

are you fucking kidding me?

[satelliteddie]

ahhhh thank you :””)

I love reading everyone’s comments/reposts!! my heart <<33

-meg

boyfriends - s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: after steve turns to alcohol to help soothe his memories from the last couple of years, you try to get him to open up about his past.

content warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, couple in turmoil, arguments, language

word count: 3.2k

author’s notes: hello this features best friend!eddie, emphasis on best friend, anyways only one more left in the series!!! :’)

Keep reading

[satelliteddie]

Hi! I just wanted to ask if you can write something to do with y/n singing Eddie My Love by The Chordettes, at the hideout, after a Corroded Coffin set, as a surprise for eddie? Like, to confess her love? Maybe the hole gang of the older kids are there and knew what you were up to? Maybe even after all of that going down, he takes you home and theres some fluffy smut?

hello hello your request has been posted here :)

hope you enjoy xoxoxo

-meg

[satelliteddie]

eddie, my love - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: after trying multiple ways to get eddie’s attention, you decide to ask eddie’s band mates for help in making him realize just how head-over-heels you are. while eddie starts losing faith in you two ever being together after seeing you get closer to jeff.

content warnings: NSFW (18+) MDNI; smut with plot, pining idiots, language, unprotected piv sex, oral (fem receiving), pet names, jealous!eddie (briefly), self-conscious!eddie which is met with lots of fluff

word count: 6.0k

author’s notes: oof I could have kept writing and writing for this one…anyways…this was for this request! the song is linked here if by chance you haven't heard it before :)

“Wait, what do you mean you’re not going?” Eddie interrupts your conversation with Robin as he trips over his feet to rush to the counter. He leans forward on his elbows, dropping his head into his hands as he looks between you and Robin.

“I’m. Not. Going.” You punctuate while trying to hold back a laugh, “c’mon Eddie. I have a lot to study for with finals coming up. I’ll be at every other show I promise.”

“But-”

“Some of us care about our grades, Munson,” Robin swipes Eddie’s elbows from the counter causing him to fall forward, nearly smacking his face. “Not me, but she does.”

“You both should,” you roll your eyes ducking behind the counter to grab a movie you had on hold for Eddie. You slide the tape across the counter to him with a small smile. “I’m sorry Eds, you know I’d come if I could.”

Eddie’s frown fades as he looks back to you, “I know. It’s just- I’ll miss you tonight.”

That was the problem. You knew he would miss you, and you would miss him….but you weren’t sure just how much Eddie knew you missed him on the days you didn’t spend together. It’s been two painstakingly slow months since Robin and Nancy forced you to see your feelings for Eddie — beyond those in a friendship. Initially, it was awkward and made you uncomfortable to be around him since it seemed like every move you made gave you away. Over time it became easier to not blush at every flirty comment or touch between you two. Nancy tried to stress to you that Eddie was also falling hard, but there was no way to tell — at least from your side of things. Your crush on your best friend clouded all judgment; you would read too much into his touches, but not enough into his flirtier tone. Even the members of Hellfire and Corroded Coffin had caught on to the tension between you and Eddie, but you just couldn’t be sure. 

Robin watches as Eddie’s eyes linger on your features, while you nervously pick at the countertop.

“I’ll miss you too,” you mutter only glancing at Eddie.

“Did you still need a ride home?”

You hum for a moment, looking to Robin for a lifeline, but all that comes is a shrug. “No, I- Jeff is coming to get me,” you quickly lie.

“Jeff?” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up in confusion. He’s seen you and Jeff together on a few occasions, but usually it was in a group setting. However, lately things were different; he noticed you two together, more often alone than with friends. Eddie would see you climbing into Jeff’s beat up sedan when you declined his rides home from school and work (like you did today). He had brushed it off to be a simple ride home, but maybe there was more to it… Eddie’s mind starts to spiral thinking back to all the times he’d gushed over you to his band. He could never trust the loud-mouth, younger members of Hellfire, but Corroded Coffin was different. Eddie felt in his element, felt alive and comfortable with each of the members. There was no shame in him telling the band how you inspired a lyric or how you wanted a specific cover of a song during their next gig. Eddie thought he made it clear to them how in love he was, but maybe in all his sweet-talk, he accidentally convinced Jeff how amazing you were. Of course he’s into her, Eddie thinks as he leans down on his elbows again to hide his mouth with a curled fist.

“Seems like you two have been together a lot lately.” Eddie says with an edge to his voice, his hand muffling his words.

“Yeah,” you bend down again to mess with a stack of movies. Don’t let him see your hands shake. He’ll know you’re lying. You shuffle through all the miscellaneous tapes looking for anything to grab, before asking: “why, is that a problem?”

Please say it’s a problem. Act jealous, Eddie. Do something. Your subconscious begs for a reaction out of him, but it never comes.

“No- no, not at all.”

You stand back up with a couple copies of The Outsiders in hand, “okay good because I like him.”

“You like him? Or you like him?” Eddie’s inflection on the words is obvious, the gravity behind the question is heavier.

“Don’t know,” you prop yourself up on your elbows to be at eye level with Eddie. Feeling confident you shrug as you look him right in the eye, “haven’t decided yet.”

Robin continues to linger by the computer, watching the exchange with quick moving eyes. Eddie nods once before leaning away from you, giving Robin a small frown. She returns it with a sympathetic smile while sitting perched on her stool.

“I’ll see you guys,” Eddie says, defeated. He swipes his movie off the counter before turning around to leave Family Video, the door slamming shut as he walks outside.

“Fuck,” you slump forward with a shaky sigh, resting your forehead down on the countertop.

“That was good,” Robin bounces over from her seat, her eyes glittering. “He was so jealous!”

Robin shoves your shoulder trying to get you to look at her, but you just groan. “But he didn’t say anything,” you mumble into the wood.

“He didn’t have to, his tone gave him away. Besides, he’s Eddie, nothing is hidden in those big, brown doe eyes.”

“I just wish he would say something and put me out of my misery.”

Robin nudges you again, but harder this time, “I think it’s time, babe.”

Reluctantly you lift your head with a groan, to see Robin holding out the Family Video phone to you. You press the phone to your ear and start to dial.

“Hello?”

“Jeff,” you say with a sigh. “I need your help….Jealousy didn’t work. We have to resort to Plan B.”

-✩-

Eddie loves performing with his band at the Hideout, it’s one of his favorite things to do…only falling into second place behind spending his nights with you. Corroded Coffin’s show tonight had just finished, Eddie rushed off the stage covered in sweat and high off adrenaline. It was one of their best shows yet, spotting all his friends in the small crowd, singing along to lyrics they barely know but cheering just as loud. Eddie tries not to focus on the gap in the crowd that vaguely resembles you. He messed up the chords twice during his solo when he looked over to Jeff, his mind slipping back to your words from this morning. I like him, I like him, I like him. Your voice echoed inside his brain like a cursed siren song.

“Munson!” Steve calls, clasping a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie shuts his guitar case, turning to face his friends.

Nancy bounces on her heels, curly hair moving with her, “You were incredible!”

Robin agrees with an eager nod, “Did you see that old guy? He actually started head banging.”

“Robin-” Nancy rolls her eyes, shushing Robin at the same time.

“I’m serious! I saw it,” Robin groans.

“Thanks,” Eddie mutters, scratching the back of his neck. “I- uh, thanks for coming, but I’m gonna take off.”

“What?” Steve furrows his eyebrows, “you can’t leave! Let me at least buy you a beer or something.”

“No, no. I’m alright,” Eddie dismisses his friends groans of disappointment with a quick wave. “You guys stay, I’m sure-”

The words die in Eddie’s mouth as the noise of someone tapping on a microphone cuts through the air. The crowd of no more than a dozen people for Corroded Coffin has dwindled down to six (Eddie, Steve, Robin, Nancy, the drunk guy at the bar, and the bouncer). The dim stage lights flicker back on, focusing on a microphone stand, and a small keyboard. Eddie blinks harshly as two shadowed figures move closer to the instruments. Jeff slips into the small amount of light before sitting on the stool directly behind the keyboard. He gives a swift nod to off stage before the second figure steps forward. Your silhouette gives you away as soon as Eddie is able to discern it from the other things on stage.

“What the hell is happening?” Eddie turns around with wild eyes. Instead of finding confused faces amongst his friends they all have small smirks on their lips.

“Eddie,” Robin gently places her hands on his shoulders. “I really think you should sit.” Eddie mindlessly sits on a barstool, his back pressed to the bar top as Steve slips a beer into Eddie’s open palm. Eddie’s dark eyes focus intently on the stage, watching as the light gets brighter and brings you into full view. He sips from the beer, his heart slams against his chest at a frenzied pace… the build-up is killing him.

A small cough comes from the stage as you angle the microphone down to meet your height. Eddie licks his lips as he memorizes every piece of your outfit; a small black skirt that just barely hits your thighs over dark tights, platform boots that give you a few more inches of height, and an old Black Sabbath shirt of Eddie’s —that you swore you didn’t take. The guitar strap digs into your shoulders, the instrument laying across your belly keeping your hands busy as you start to talk.

“So,” your voice cracks into the microphone. “I’m not really the best with words…so I’m gonna keep this short and sweet. Eddie,” you finally lock eyes with him at the bar. “This is for you.”

Eddie’s world tilts as he watches you begin to strum the acoustic guitar and Jeff presses the keys of the piano. He briefly hears the muffled cheers of his friends next to him, but his focus stays on you. The melody is familiar to him, drawing Eddie back to the times in the record store when The Chordettes would play as you shopped. Eddie would always follow you around like a lost puppy, watching you flick through all of the music he hated, but somehow seemed to tolerate when you listened to it.

You continue to strum as Jeff starts to pick up the tempo just slightly, you turn to him with a small smile before you face your microphone and sing.

Eddie my love, I love you so

Eddie my love, I love you so

Eddie my love, I love you so

How I've wanted for you, you'll never know

Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long

If Eddie’s heart wasn’t racing before, he’s now convinced it could compete in the Olympics. The silky tone of your voice and the way you sing his name has him weak; every bone in Eddie’s body has simply given out. Your nerves are evident in your voice, but it’s still the most angelic thing Eddie has heard. The beer bottle slips from his hands as he leans forward on the stool, Steve is there to catch it with a light laugh. Every person and everything in The Hideout has disappeared, leaving only you and Eddie in this moment. He’s not even sure he’s blinking anymore as he watches you perform.

Oh, Eddie, Eddie, I love you so

Eddie, please, write just one line

Tell me your love is still only mine

Please, Eddie don't make me wait too long

You and Jeff had decided to change the general speed of the song, making it easier to learn on the guitar and limiting the time you needed to be on stage. Your nerves have started to disappear as you watch Eddie across the bar. You watch him nearly drop his beer to the floor as you sing his name again, Steve shakes his head and places the bottle on the counter next to him. You’re not even sure Eddie knew he had a beer in his hand with the way he’s moving. A giggle escapes your lips in between verses as you watch Eddie watch you, it’s like he’s in a trance. The music seems to have stripped away his deflective nature and caused his true feelings to step forward. You can't be sure he definitely feels the same way without hearing it directly from him, but this is pretty damn close. Robin and Nancy bounce behind Eddie giving gentle applause and big smiles. Steve offers a quick grin and thumbs up. You turn to Jeff with more confidence than you first had, “I think it’s working?” You whisper with a shrug, your guitar strums drowning out your voice.

“You think?” Jeff laughs, playing the keys of his piano. With a shake of your head and small giggle, you turn back to the microphone.

You left me last September

Since that time I've been so alone

Now, all I do is wish and wait for you

Eddie, since you've been gone

Eddie my love, I'm sinking fast

The very next day might be my last

Please, Eddie, don't make me wait too long

Your giggle is picked up by the microphone, echoing softly through the empty bar. Eddie can no longer tell if his heart is racing or if it’s stopped beating all together. There’s no way this is real? I fell off the stage and I’m in a coma, that’s much more realistic. Eddie’s subconscious claws its way through his trance as he stares at you. Slowly, Eddie rises on shaky legs bracing himself on the countertop behind him. He takes careful steps across the room just as you start the final verse of the song.

Oh, Eddie, Eddie, I love you so

Eddie my love

Oh, Eddie, Eddie, I love you so

Eddie my love, I love you so

You try not to watch too intensely as Eddie shuffles closer to the end of the stage. You avert your eyes to your friends instead of making eye contact with Eddie who now stands directly at the barricade. You strum the final notes as Jeff plays his, finishing your cover of the song with shaky hands. Slipping the guitar strap over your shoulder, you rest the instrument down on the stand. Robin, Steve, and Nancy erupt into cheers across the room, clapping and whistling at an obnoxious volume. Jeff disappears from the stage, leaving you alone as the stage lights flicker off again and the house lights come back on. Nervously, you turn to see Eddie waiting at the edge of the stage; he’s running his fingers over the left over electrical tape near the microphone stand. You squat down to sit on the edge of the stage, your legs swing slightly as you wait for Eddie to look at you. The stage is not very high, so even sitting down you’re only at Eddie’s height; you wait quietly, sitting a couple inches away from him as he continues to fixate on the electrical tape.

Eddie takes a deep breath as he stands next to you, finally turning to face you; his brown eyes are glossy and nervous.

“Hi,” you whisper, pulling his hands away from where they’re picking at the stage.

“Hi,” he responds in a chuckle. He shakes his head, his unruly curls falling in front of his face. “So when you were hanging out with Jeff-”

You offer a small smile, “guitar lessons.” You watch as Eddie’s features relax while his mind works in overdrive to put the pieces together. Silence stretches between you two, as you swing you legs against the stage. Eddie runs a quick hand through his hair before turning to you.

“So what you just– what you sang– did you mean it?”

“I-yeah. Yes, Eddie.” You stumble over your words, feeling much less confident now that he’s really looking at you.

A smirk grows on Eddie’s lips, the nerves disappearing from his eyes. He pushes off the stage and steps in between your legs, “Thank God.” Eddie leans forward, his ring covered fingers buried in your hair as your mouths meet. He tastes like cheap beer, cigarettes, and spearmint gum; Eddie’s mouth is soft, yet dominating in every perfect way. His fingers gently squeeze the nape of your neck, pulling you closer to him yet it’s impossible to get any closer. You trail your hands up his chest, grounding them against his pecks as Eddie continues to run his tongue over your bottom lip. You’re so lost in his mouth you almost miss the whistling and clapping coming from the bar. You pull away from Eddie as he whines, you smile at him with a small chuckle. You glance over his shoulder to find your three friends cheering as if it was a Hawkins basketball game.

“Finally!” Nancy grins, shoving Steve in the shoulder.

“Get a room,” Robin groans, but there’s no hiding her genuine happiness for her friends; it’s written all over her face and wide smile. Eddie glances over his shoulder, flipping off your group of friends all with a smirk plastered on his features.

You slide your fingers down Eddie’s chest, tracing the seam of his black tee with your index finger. It quickly gets Eddie’s attention as he turns back to you, “wanna get out of here?”

“Please,” you practically beg, pulling gently on his shirt. Eddie steps back from where he’s been pressed to the stage, holding out his hand for you to take. You take his hand to hop down even though the stage is only a few feet off the ground. Eddie tucks you into his side, slinging his arm over your shoulders, your hands clasped together near your collar bone. He leads you behind the stage, bee-lining for the rear exit.

“Where are you two going?” Steve calls, his tone is playful as he watches.

“To find a room,” Eddie yells back, slipping his arm off of your shoulders and running ahead of you. His hand never leaves yours as you follow Eddie out the door. Thankfully the rest of the band had packed up everything in the van already because Eddie was on a mission and this was the getaway car. You hop into the passenger seat just as Eddie does the same on his side, turning the key in the ignition quickly. You fiddle with your hands, staring down as your nerves start to creep up again. The bench seems like it shrunk in size since the last time you were inside, Eddie’s body loaming over yours. Eddie snakes his arm behind your head turning his body as he pulls the van out of the parking lot. The proximity of his body, the smell of his cologne, his soft skin as your senses on fire.

“Eddie,” you say just above a whisper.

“I know, baby,” the nickname slips from Eddie so casually it has you whimpering. He’s called you ‘sweetheart’ countless times, but never ‘baby’; Eddie has dreamt of the day he could proudly use all of the nicknames he had locked away, and now was the time. He spins the wheel between his fingers, the steering wheel slipping between his knuckles as he turns onto the main road. Eddie takes the wheel between his left hand, his right one traveling across the bench seat to your thigh. His cool rings land on your thigh, the fabric of your skirt riding up on your hips. “Ten minutes,” Eddie squeezes your thigh once. “Then I’m all yours.”

It’s the longest ten minutes of your life.

The van’s tires crunch over the rock drive away before coming to a halt in front of the Munson trailer. Wayne’s pickup is long gone, his shift at the plant having started two hours ago. Eddie clears his throat, removing his hand from your thigh before circling the front of the hood. It feels like the shape of Eddie’s hand is burned into your skin, the nerves under his touch have gone haywire. Eddie opens your door with a chivalrous tip of his head and outstretched arm. You hop down and accidentally flick up your skirt in the process; you quickly smooth out the material, batting your eyes up at Eddie. His pupils are blown already as he looks down at you, chest heaving inwards.

“Oops,” you innocently smile, stepping away from him and towards the trailer. Eddie groans, slamming the car door shut before chasing after you. You wait patiently by the front door, rocking back and forth on your heels. Eddie stands behind you, his arms caging you in as he grips your waist with one hand and the other works on the lock. His hot breath trails along your neck before he plants sloppy kisses on your skin.

“You did so well tonight, baby,” Eddie coos, finally finding the key on his lanyard and unlocking the door. “Such a pretty voice for such a pretty girl. My pretty girl, right?”

The door swings open with a creak as you nod; Eddie tuts, stepping in front of you in the open doorway. “Words, baby.”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, the warmth between your thighs clouding your judgment.

“Jesus,” Eddie curses, pulling you inside by your hips. Lifting you with ease, Eddie kicks the door shut with his shoe as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your giggles erupt from your chest, kissing Eddie wildly in between your laughs. His hands find purchase under your ass, carrying you to his room. Eddie gently lays you down on his unmade bed, thanking his lucky stars he changed the sheets yesterday. You lean against the mattress, your black flushed to the comforter as you peer up at Eddie. You unhook your legs from his waist, letting him pull back from you for a moment. You watch Eddie as he swipes a rough hand over his face; he can’t shake the feeling that this is all some cruel dream.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” Eddie asks, silently hoping you’re just as aroused as he is.

“Eddie, I want you” you sit up fully, your legs still hanging off the edge of the bed. “I always have. I just- I didn’t know how to tell you.” Eddie’s eyes drop to the floor, he turns one of his chunky rings over on his fingers. He’s nervous…even more nervous than me, you realize as you watch his movements. “And I don’t, um... I don’t just want sex with you. I want all of you. I wanna be yours.” Your confession has Eddie’s head spinning and cock straining against his jeans. His brown wide eyes snap up from the ground meeting yours before Eddie kneels in front of you on the bed.

“You’re mine, sweetheart.” It’s not a question, but a statement…one that has the heat blossoming in your belly again. “I’m gonna show you how much you are.” Eddie cups your cheeks in his hands, pressing his lips on your forehead, two cheeks and then on your mouth. It’s a sweet and simple gesture, but the force behind the kiss on your lips says otherwise. Eddie’s teeth graze your bottom lip as you moan, his hands running up your sides urging you to lay back down. Eddie pulls away with a wicked grin and a whine from you, “gonna make you feel so good, but I gotta stop kissing you to do it.”

You want to protest his words, but the cool feeling of his fingers around the waist of your skirt stops you. He dips his hands under your skirt, tugging down the material with your tights. Eddie unlaces and tosses aside your boots with the discarded clothes, leaving you bare from the waist down. His fingers slide up the inside of your legs, creating goosebumps in their wake. His index finger finally reaches your heat causing you to bring your legs even closer together. Eddie kisses along your calf, slowly parting your legs with both of his hands. Finally calm under his touch, you open your legs hissing as cold air hits your cunt.

“Fuck,” Eddie shakes his head. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re falling apart.”

Your cheeks flush at his words, raising your arms to cover your face, “can’t help it.”

Eddie doesn’t mock you or comment on your blush covered face, he’s too consumed with how your body reacts to him. This is all because of him. This is all for him.

“Don’t hide from me, baby,” Eddie presses another open mouthed kiss dangerously close to your folds. “You do the same to me.”

You look through the gaps in your arms to spot the very noticeable bulge straining against Eddie’s dark jeans. His left hand presses down your thigh to the mattress, his right hand sliding up your chest. Eddie leans forward licking over the sensitive bundle of nerves, his eyes fluttering shut as he groans into your heat. He’s lapping up your wetness and moaning into you as if he’s the one getting touched. Your whimpers mix with his, the sounds bouncing off the walls in a filthy harmony.

“Oh my god,” the words fumble out of your mouth in between pants. You try to hold in your curses, biting down on your lip. Your hands find Eddie’s hair cursing his name over and over. “Fuck Eddie, oh my–”

“Let me hear you, c’mon.” Eddie mumbles into your skin, sucking and abusing your pussy with his mouth. Eddie slides his hand back down your chest, stopping his fingers on your clit. He circles his cool fingers against your bud, ruthlessly pushing you closer to your climax. Eddie’s encouragement and skillful fingers on your folds has you squirming on the bed, your hands tangled in Eddie’s curls. He moves his tongue across your slick center, swapping his fingers and mouth; his tongue sucks your clit as he dips a finger inside your cunt. “Sweetheart, fuck,” Eddie curses pulling his mouth away to watch his second finger disappear into your pussy. You drop your hands from Eddie’s head, running them over the bed looking for anything to grab and ground you. Eddie’s lips are wet and pink, coated in your arousal as he watches you with hungry eyes and an open mouth. Your walls squeeze around the two digits just as Eddie curls them against your soft tissue. Eddie leans forward, grinding himself into the edge of the mattress as he kisses your inner thighs, his hands still working inside of you. Your hands fist the sheets next to you while your legs shake under Eddie’s palm. Your eyes roll back in pleasure, the tension in your belly releasing in waves. You cum on Eddie’s hand in a whitehot mess, covering his fingers in your juices. Eddie grins proudly as you come undone, panting and moaning around his hand. “So good for me, mhm?” Eddie raises an eyebrow, pulling his fingers from your cunt and licking them clean.

“Yes– yes,” you mumble, your vision still hazy. “Eddie? Please come here.”

Eddie whips his shirt over his head quickly before he crawls over you, caging you under his arms. He leans down carefully to not crush you, tracing his fingers over the edge of your jaw. You lean into his touch, a smile growing on both your face and Eddie’s. Wordlessly, you reach between your bodies to pull at his belt; Eddie releases a deep chuckle, hanging his head in the crook of your neck. He presses sloppy kisses along the sweaty column of your throat, reviling in your soft skin and how you smell. He lowers his waist to give you better access to his belt, but once the denim starts to slide down his legs, Eddie stops you.

“I wanna make you feel good too Eds,” you whine as your fingers ghost over his boxer covered cock.

“I know you do,” Eddie pulls away from where he’s marked your neck. He sighs as he watches your hands rub against his boxers, palming his length carefully. He wants to just rut his hips into your hand and completely let himself go, but he can’t— at least not tonight. “I’m not gonna last long like this.”

You look up at Eddie through hooded eyes, “It’s okay—”

“No, sweetheart,” his tone is urgent and needy. “I need to be inside of you.”

You nod your head in understanding, moving your hands around his waist to push down his boxers. Eddie slides down the rest of his clothes, tossing them behind him without a second glance. You lean up on your elbows pulling off your shirt, which you had stolen from Eddie months ago but never admitted to. Eddie slips his hand behind your back twisting the clasp of your bra open with one motion, discarding it with everything else.

Eddie leans down to capture your lips with his, your bare chests pressing together; Eddie’s guitar pick necklace drags over your breasts causing you to groan into Eddie’s mouth.

“I knew you took that shirt,” Eddie kisses along your jaw, moving his hips forward. You gasp as you feel his erection grinding against you.

“Sorry,” you reply with a coy smile.

Eddie plants one more kiss below your ear before whispering, “no, you’re not.”

“Yeah,” you grin. “I’m not.” Eddie shakes his head with a laugh that erupts butterflies in your chest. Eddie kisses you again, but this time it’s not eager or rushed. It’s light and airy like his smile and laugh. Eddie leans all his weight on his forearms, carefully sliding forward and sinking into you. You could have guessed Eddie was huge, but now feeling him stretch your walls, you definitely underestimated his size. Eddie feels you splitting beneath him, becoming a writhing mess as your legs wrap around his waist. The kiss breaks apart as you moan, “shit– Eddie, deeper.”

Eddie hesitates, his shaky eyes looking over your face as he brushes away your hair, “I don’t want to hurt you—”

“I’m okay. Promise,” you encourage, running your thumb over his bottom lip as he pouts. “Move, Eddie. Please move.” You beg, squeezing your legs around his waist tighter. Eddie bottoms out in you, watching as your face contorts and hair fans out over the pillows. Eddie balances his weight on his one forearm, slipping the other between your bodies to rub circles on your clit; his calloused hands brush over your bud trying to release the tension.

“C’mon baby,” Eddie thursts into you, his tip brushing against the deepest parts of you. You wrap around Eddie so perfectly it has Eddie moaning into your skin; he’s not sure how long he’ll last with how you look around him. A primal instinct takes over as Eddie watches his cock disappear into you; there's no going back now, you’re his and he needs to hear it. His skin slaps against yours, “Who’s filling you up so much, uh? So filthy, getting fucked by your best friend? Who does this dripping pussy belong to now? Tell me. Say it. I wanna wake the neighbors.”

“Eddie. It’s yours, Eddie,” you cry as he continues to pound into you.

“Good girl,” Eddie nudges his nose against your cheek. “Just wanted to be sure.”

Your hands fly to his bare back, scraping your nails against his soft scarred skin. Your legs are weak around his waist as the heat begins to build in your belly again. Eddie must sense how close you are because he kisses over the edges of your face, slowing his thrusts. You pulse around him in a frantic pace, clawing at his back trying desperately to hang on. Eddie pulls the words from your subconscious as he presses his sweaty forehead to yours, “I’m gonna come, baby. Are you–”

“Yes,” you cut him off in a moan. You move one hand over the expanses of his back to the front of Eddie’s face. He leans up to watch you; brushing away the stray curls and bangs from his forehead, Eddie’s eyes flutter shut under your gentle touches. You lean forward and press your mouth to his, catching his pink lips in a hurried kiss before you both come. The crease between Eddie’s eyebrows deepens as he tries to ride out his high, holding off until you come first. But you’re not having it. You pull your mouth away from Eddies, taking a page out of his playbook and littering his jaw with small kisses. “Come on, baby,” you whisper against his skin and Eddie moans at the pet name. No one has ever cared for him like this or even bothered to call him a sweet name; it has Eddie panting and his vision blurring as he tries to focus on your sweet voice. “Cum inside me, Eds.”

“Fuck,” Eddie spills into you with one final sloppy thrust, burying his face into your neck. His hips falter, but his hands never stop on your clit. The sick sounds of your cum and Eddie’s mixing inside you, along with Eddie’s whimpers has you falling apart for the second time. Eddie continues to pump in and out, keeping a slow pace as you ride out your climax. You pull Eddie’s face back to yours as you kiss him again, enjoying how he tastes while Eddie stills inside you. Your legs shake as they fall to the mattress, every nerve in your body feeling the post-climax state. Eddie’s mouth works against yours as he fully collapses down onto your chest, your skin sticking together. Eddie breaks the kiss with a huge, Cheshire Cat smile; he kisses down your jaw and neck before resting his head on your chest. You brush your fingers through the ends of Eddie’s hair that’s splayed across his back. His chest heaves as he tries to regulate his breathing; little does he know you’re trying to sync your inhales with his. Carefully you plant kisses across his hairline, basking in his warmth and his softening cock still inside you. After what feels like a lifetime, but still not long enough, Eddie pulls back as your hands drape around his shoulders. He slides out of you with a hiss, trying to pry his eyes off of your naked body and leaking pussy. Even after his taunting, he’s still your nervous best friend who worries he’s going to say the wrong thing. He grabs his discarded shirt and cleans off himself and you before tossing it into the overflowing laundry bin. Eddie slowly crawls back over you as you offer a small smile. His deep brown eyes flick back to yours, pleading with you to speak first.

“I’m still here Eds,” you whisper, dragging your index finger over the highest points of his cheeks. “Not going anywhere.”

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief before snuggling back down on your bare skin, tossing the comforter over his shoulders. He presses sloppy kisses to your collarbone, “good because I’m gonna nap right here. Forever.”

Your giggles has Eddie’s heart doing summersaults in his rib cage again; he’d spend every waking moment making you laugh and feel as good as he does. After a while you both settle under the covers, skin to skin and heart to heart. Eddie shuts his eyes feeling content for the first time in a long time, but there’s one thing he can’t stop thinking about.

“Y’know I’m still a little pissed at you.”

You frown as you work through the knots in Eddie’s hair, “I know I should have told you sooner about how I felt—”

Eddie leans up on one elbow with an eyebrow raised, “that’s not what I’m talking about, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head, hair fanned out over the pillow as Eddie looks down at you.

“You asked Jeff to teach you how to play the guitar, not me.”

Another fit of giggles erupts out of you, as the grin on Eddie’s face threatens to crack his “pissed” exterior. You raise an eyebrow, “you’re serious?”

“Deadly serious,” Eddie shakes his head dramatically. “I’m so much better than him.”

You swat his chest with no real force, “oh my god, shut up.”

Eddie finally breaks and lets the grin pull at his lips. He leans back down again, tucking his face into your neck, “never.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

hes so 🤏🏻🤏🏻 y’know??? anyways working on some holiday fluffy fics bc I can't get the ideas out of my head 

✭ masterlist ✭ requests

-meg

[satelliteddie]

We’re all seeing it, right?

[satelliteddie]

I’m gonna pull my hair out

Request : reader calling Eddies eyes baby cows eyes? <3

author’s note: hehe this one is so short but made me smile, enjoy <3

cw: sfw, talks about eddie’s mom/young eddie, adorable halloween costumes, eddie being a quirky little toddler, just lots of fluff/sweetness and mentions of cows

“No way that’s you,” You gawk in adoration, eyes widened as you glance between the picture of a much smaller Eddie, comparing it to what he is now, “there’s no way.”

“Believe it or not, I wasn’t born with this beautiful head of hair,” Eddie responds jokingly, holding up a lock of it between his fingers, “I had it short up until freshman year mostly—Wayne didn’t know what to do so he just started to buzz it until I asked him not to.”

“Is that your mom?” You ask curiously, noticing the woman in the picture—a spitting image of Eddie actually, features only slightly softer than his, but not by much. The smile was the same, the nose, the mesmerizing eyes that Eddie always stared you down with—on a much younger version of him it was easy to see how smitten adults could be with him.

You skirt around the word adorable because Eddie hates it, but he can see it in the way you smile at him, flipping through the other pictures he had spread out on the bed.

“It’s all I have really, of her,” Eddie admits softly, “I don’t remember much.”

“S’nice that you have something, though.” You remind him, “She looks happy.”

“I hope she was.” Eddie replies honestly, flicking at the edge of the photo in your hand—a close up of his boyish face, still nearly a toddler.

He was dressed up for Halloween, the costume looking handmade and sewed with care. A little baby calf with a headband to match, his fluffy curls surrounding the ears attached.

“This is perfect,” You say with a laugh, holding up the photo to him, “those baby cow eyes, your mom was on to something.”

“I used to walk around mooing at strangers—at least that’s what Wayne told me,” Eddie remembers fondly, “guess they took it a little too seriously”.

“We’ve gotta recreate this,” You tease, “I swear your eyes haven’t changed at all.”

Eddie snorts, tossing the picture aside to opt for pulling you into his lap, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“That only worked when I was little,” Eddie murmurs into your skin, “definitely feel like I’m more of a bull now, wouldn’t you agree?”

“With those eyes?” You ask, flicking his nose gently, watching as he scrunched it up in response, pulling back to look at you.

Eddie nods, furrowing his eyebrows down to look meaner, more threatening.

“Yeah—no.” You grin, “Still not as scary as you like to think you are.”

Eddie slumps slightly, pouting—it proves your point, how tender and sweet he looks when he relaxes.

“See? Adorable.” You tease, hearing Eddie groan at the word.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[satelliteddie]

should I be reading this series at work???? absolutely not but no one is gonna stop me…. horny hours are every hour

-meg

Dirty Dreaming

Part 2 | Part 3

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie has an interesting dream about his best friend

Word Count: 1.3K

Content Warnings: 18+ only, Smut, Male masturbation, PIV in dream form, I think that’s it?

Authors note: I’ve had Eddie on my mind aaaaall goddamn day and the result is this smutty little oneshot 💕 I’ve never posted from my phone before but I don’t have my laptop, the formatting looks really weird but I’m hoping it’s okay once posted but if not I’ll try and fix it as soon as possible 😩

The harsh sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed off the walls of the small bedroom of the trailer as Eddie gripped your hips roughly, holding you in place. Your tiny moans and whimpers muffled as your face was buried into his pillow, fingers desperately gripping his bedsheets to try and keep your balance as he fucked you mercilessly. Eddie was mesmerised by the sight of his cock glistening with your juices every time he drew back and drove into you, light headed at the way you pushed back against him, walls squeezing him so deliciously.

“Ohh Eddie, Ed - ah!” You yelped as his palmed slapped down on each of your ass cheeks, squeezing and holding the flesh in his grip.

Slowing his hips deliberately to stare down where you were joined he watched his cock disappear inch by inch. You squirmed at the sudden change, eager for him to continue his brutal pace.

“Please baby, Eddie,” you were drooling on his pillow now. “I need - need you to move.”

You reached one of your hands behind you blindly searching for him, pleading to touch him any way possible. His stomach fluttered and he took one hand from your ass to wrap his fingers around yours with a gentle squeeze, the moment tender in comparison to how he was absolutely railing you.

“Oh sweetheart I know, such a needy little thing” he tutted. “You’re taking me so well baby, you ready for more?”

You nodded pathetically and he dropped his grip on your fingers to gather your hair in his fist, twisting to pull your head back making your back arch beautifully. You whined as he plunged in as deep as he could possibly go, the snap of his hips once again relentless. Eddie teetered on the edge, aching for release, it was right there-

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Eddie? You up bud?”

Eddie jolted at the sound of Wayne’s voice, his uncle coming home from work was usually his wake up call. His groggy mind was still caught in his dream as he blinked his heavy eyes open, skin damp with a fine sheen of sweat. Every fibre of his body felt like a live wire, he shifted and gasped at the sensation, it felt like any minor movement at this moment in time was going to make him cum in his pants. He lifted his sheets to stare down at where his dick stood hard and aching, his blue boxers stained with the pre cum leaking from his tip. What the fuck. He felt like a fucking fourteen year old again, sure he was used to waking up with morning wood but he hadn’t had a wet dream in years.

“Ed?” Wayne knocked again.

“Yeah! Yeah I’m up!” He yelled, cringing at how broken his voice sounded.

“Everything okay in there?”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie whispered under his breath, praying his uncle wasn’t going to open the door. “Yep! All good!”

“Alright, there’s fresh coffee on the counter if ya want some.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as he heard Wayne close the bathroom door and turn on the shower. He stared down at his dick again, still begging for its release where it rested against his stomach. He thought back to his dream, back to the pretty little sounds you made as you bounced on his cock. He needed to cum now, there was no way his little situation was going to go away without a little self maintenance.

He looked ahead where a photo of the two of you was taped to his wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he gave you a piggyback, your hands on either side of his head to make the devil horns pose as you both stuck your tongues out at the camera. It was one of his favourite photos. You had been his best friend for a while now but he had secretly been harbouring a pretty severe crush on you. He thought about you often in ways that made him feel guilty later, late at night with his hand wrapped around his erection. It never started out that way, he’d always flick through one of the Playboys stashed away in his bedside draws but in the end his eyes would always be drawn to that photo of you. There was nothing sexual about the picture, but just focusing on your pretty eyes and your perfect lips had his mind wandering until he was spilling all over his fist imagining how good it would feel to have his cock rammed down your throat.

This was the first time he had dreamt about you though, the first time he had so graphically dreamt of you anyway. He couldn’t get the scene out of his head, it’s like it was etched onto the inside of his eyelids. He reached down experimentally to palm himself through his boxers and choked back a whine, this was going to be over quickly for sure. He rolled over onto his stomach, snatching up a sweatshirt from his bedroom floor that you had left the last time you were over.

Laying the sweatshirt out across his pillow he buried his face in the material, he groaned as he breathed in the scent of your perfume, his hips unconsciously rolling against his mattress. He could still feel the way your dripping pussy clenched around him so fiercely, the mess from both of your arousals running down his balls and your inner thighs. He could feel the silky softness of your hair curled around his fist as he yanked your head back, exposing the delicate skin of your neck just begging to be bitten. He still felt the sticky dampness on the skin of your hips where the flesh jiggled in his grip as he pounded into you.

Eddie was now moaning unashamedly into your jumper as he rutted into his mattress, his movements more erratic with each and every thrust. He was so close now, the heat in his lower belly spreading into a tingle across his limbs, until he came with a guttural growl, the pearlescent streaks of his release coating his bedsheets and the soft dark curls that scattered down from his belly button. His hips continued to slowly rock, whimpering at the sensitivity but wanting to drag out his orgasm as long as possible. He shivered as he came down from his high, glancing back over his shoulder to gaze at your picture once again.

How was he going to face you today? You were close enough that you didn’t think twice about touching him. Gentle strokes of his arm or his hand as you spoke to him, absentmindedly brushing the stray curls out of his face, you had even gotten into the habit of planting yourself in his lap when there were no spare seats at the lunch table. He didn’t think he could handle that today. He could pretend he was sick and just not show up to school, but he knew that would result in you showing up at his door later and having you here in his room where his dream took place was objectively worse than facing you in public.

He inhaled your scent one last time and groaned as he rolled onto his back, the sticky cooling liquid starting to feel unpleasant. He grabbed a bunch of tissues from the nightstand and started to wipe up his mess. He heard the shower turn off from the bathroom and knew it was time for him to face the day. He could only hope that when he saw you he wouldn’t crumble into the blushing, stuttering mess that he was predicting.