#And we're making Steve a manager!

[candied-cae]

And Who Are We At The End Of The World? - Freaks and Fools

Chapter 15/? - - - Read it on AO3

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Word Count: 9,634

Summary: While they await the final verdict, passing the hours by until the Hawkins Police decide what will happen to Eddie Munson, a few of them have some fun in his hospital room. A few others hammer out the details with the government operatives. And, eventually, the shoe has to drop...

What's going to happen so they can move on from Spring Break?

More ST Fics

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While most of the party was making their way to the high school, agreed upon gathering around one of the tables outside, one faded yellow pizza van was arriving at the hospital. Argyle got them parked, and Robin was swinging the door open for their two smaller backseat passengers to climb out. El, of course, was someone they already expected to bring. To make sure she didn’t get cornered somewhere alone while the others got things figured out. But Erica was also trailing along. She had promised to check on Max first thing for her brother while he was off with Dustin, telling the rest of Hellfire a good cover story for what was going on.

“Come along, ladies,” Robin grinned at the two as they hopped out onto the parking lot.

The older kids escorted the younger of them to check in and obtain their visitor passes and waved to Officer Nichols. He was posted outside Eddie’s room on a chair in the hallway, flipping through the morning paper while he sipped on a cup of crappy hospital coffee. He returned the gesture with a tip of his cup while Argyle hovered behind Erica, following her into Max’s room while she made her visit. The other two went for the door across the hall as Robin poked her head through first.

She actually had a particular question she’d been asked to extend before El came in with her.

“Heeyyy, Eddie?” she asked as she cracked open the door to the guy’s room, wearing a big, bright smile to hopefully win him over effortlessly.

Eddie looked over from the tv set quietly playing a cartoon. There was a second of confusion when he saw her face - only having expected to see El’s - when he noticed the expression spread across it. She had a suspicious kind of smile that cued him that she had a favor in mind,“ What do you want?”

The thing was that when Robin was getting picked up, the girl had stepped out of the car to say something before she got buckled in. Robin leaned over and El whispered to her something about when she had the sleepover with Max over the summer. That she’d mentioned wishing she could paint her nails. Max might’ve been a rough and tough kind of girl, but she liked feeling pretty and special too. But as active a kid as Max was, it would just chip off in no time. So the girl never really went through the trouble, even though she liked the look of them. And well… Max wasn’t really going to be doing too much right now… so El wanted to paint her nails as a little surprise for when she woke up.

But El had never even painted her own before, so surely it wouldn’t go very well.

So Robin had an idea.

She stepped a little further into the room and put her hands together,“ So, El needs to practice.”

“Practice?” he quoted back to her, his confusion coming back quickly.

“Painting nails.” Robin clarified,” She wants to paint Max’s. I offered to do it for her, but she really wants to do it herself.”

“And, what does that have to do with me?”

Robin hummed her words and came in just a little closer,“ Well, you don’t really need your hands, you know? Can’t even move them very far at the moment, so…”

“No.” he stopped her quickly.

“Come on! You’re not busy right now!” she argued.

With a wave of his hands, as far as they could while he was under the charges and restrained, he threw back,“ Offer her yours!”

“Mine are already painted! Obviously!” she told him, flashing her maroon-tipped fingers at him with a stern face.

And then Eddie was silent.

Considering.

Could he really say no? Even if it was being said to Robin’s face, it was really being said to El. And the girl did save his life. And she was kind of his favorite. And he liked Little Red. And he felt pretty bad for both of them…

“Fine.” He gritted out through clenched teeth,” But I’ll only accept black polish. Nothing frilly, or you’ll mess up my vibe.”

“I assumed that would be your preference.” Robin smiled to herself, pulling a bottle of black nail polish out of her back pocket that she nabbed when she came up with the idea,“ El! Come on, he’s in!”

The girl timidly joined them, her own hands tucked into the sleeves of her sweatshirt as she came forward to Eddie’s bedside.

He splayed his hand out for her and dropped his voice to sing a line,” I want it painted blaaack~”

He was hoping for a smile. Or a laugh. Or just, something to let him know he was funny and making the situation entertaining. But she just looked at him with a blank expression. And then her eyes drifted up at Robin, who was pulling up another chair, like she was asking for help with the comment.

“Come on. The Rolling Stones,” he explained, because maybe she didn’t know their whole discography, but she had to at least know the name.

But nothing. She just looked back at him, not even a glint of recognition behind her eyes.

“Okay, seriously? The Rolling Stones? You don’t know The Rolling Stones? They aren’t my favorite or anything, but geez- have you been living under a rock, girlie? They’ve been makin’ music for like twenty years.”

Robin chastised him with a gentle smack to his shoulder for expecting the kid, who had never been outside of a lab until three years before, to know about any musical artists except for her favorites. The two girls were getting sat down side-by-side on Eddie’s right hand when Arygle and Erica came into the room. They made themselves at home in the other chairs on Eddie’s left side and watched what was playing, which turned out to be an episode of Scooby Doo, Where Are You!

It was slow work of the pair on his hand. Robin was showing El a comfortable way to hold it and get a good angle for the brush. Showing her how to wipe off the excess polish in the rim of the bottle, and how to start in the middle before working her way back and pulling it along the sides to make it clean and easy to keep on the nail.

“Doesn’t get very messy if you don’t stress and take your time. ’Course, if you do get outside the lines a bit, not a big deal.” She added and exemplified with his pointer finger, letting the brush barely slip over the side,” I just take my thumb and gently scrape the little bit off of the skin with my nail to fix up the edges, like this-”

“Ow!” Eddie complained and shot Robin a glare.

She ignored the dramatics to whisper to El,” It doesn’t really hurt-”

“Yes, it does,” he insisted,” You just dug your nail into my- my-” he struggled for the word.

“Your cuticle?” Robin finished for him.

“Yeah! And it’s pointy, Robin!”

She rolled her eyes at him,“ It doesn’t hurt, El. Boys are just wimps. Max’ll be way tougher than this patient. When you do hers, she won’t even feel it-”

Robin had said it quickly. Absentmindedly. For a second, forgetting that Max was in a coma and couldn’t feel anything at all. And El didn’t look like the words hit her too badly, but Robin started sputtering anyway.

“I mean, even if she was awake, she wouldn’t… Like, we all know Max is a tough cookie in her own right, and she’d be fine. And she will be fine! And girls really do handle things better! The whole ‘beauty is pain’ thing and- Boys really complain about this sorta stuff way more and…” she fizzled out of her defense and added one last note,” It really doesn’t hurt. Promise.”

El simply nodded back.

“Says you.” Eddie grumbled to himself,“ How many slumber parties you been to where they train you mini-torturers anyway?”

Robin shrugged and focused on holding his middle finger for El to try painting on,“ Oh, none. I just sometimes make Steve try colors out with me when I can’t pick one. But he’s antsy and always picks it off within the hour, so… I get lots of practice.”

“You’re lying,” he dismissed the idea quickly.

She just quirked an eyebrow at him with a quiet “Am I?” that left him wondering.

Before Eddie could consider her words much further, Argyle was leaning over to Erica and asking who she thought the bad guy was for this particular episode. Now, of course, he’d already seen it and remembered who was hiding under the mask. So did Robin and Eddie. But Erica thumbed at her chin and hummed while recounting some of the plot.

“Weighing the variables," she’d said.

And the conversation moved on. Robin passed Eddie’s hands into El’s so she could continue, and the room was alight with the discussion of a far simpler mystery than the one they had waiting for them in the real world. And El was shy about it for a bit. She hesitated to take his hand, and she was stiff and extra careful with it when she held it. Like his hands were delicate and fragile. But after a few minutes rolled by, she was sufficiently focused on her paint job, instead of the fact that the hand was connected to someone. She started to relax around them. Letting their conversation pass over her while she soaked it up. Listening, but not worried about answering herself.

It was comfortable and easy.

The rest of the crew was less so at comfort or at ease.

The folks who were sent off to the meeting had all gathered around a cement table with the slow traffic of townspeople around them. Some of them go inside. Some of them leave. Some of them were just milling about like they didn’t know what to do.

Nobody really knew what to do. This sort of tragedy wasn’t something Hawkins had ever been faced with. And even the people who knew what was really going on didn’t know exactly what to do.

They had the barebones of a game plan. The idea was to get some tapes set up so they had a shield or buffer between them and Vecna when they rode into battle. And the understanding that they needed to find a way to take to that fight as soon as possible, preferably before Vecna got himself fully pulled back together. But there wasn’t anything solid. Nothing to really stand on except shifting quicksand.

Which was a maddening reality.

Nancy was mad, in case no one noticed.

She kept finding herself mad, what felt like all the time.

It felt like she just had this hair trigger, and so many things set it off.

And now she was meeting with a woman who kept pissing her off. So surely she was going to get even madder within the next few minutes. But she was meeting up with her with Jonathan, Steve, Joyce, and Hopper by her side. And - if the way he kept his arms crossed and his expression sour after Nancy pointed out that they handed El back to Dr. Brenner was any hint - Hop would be right there with her on being pissed off. They also had Will and Mike. They tried to leave them behind, but they both insisted on coming with them.

They hadn’t been there waiting very long. Maybe ten or so minutes. Sitting silently together. Because they didn’t really have much to say to each other. Next to her, though, Mike sat with a bouncing knee.

Then, just as Nancy was thinking she would need to snap at her brother for being incapable of sitting still- three agents strolled up.

They were all dressed in uniformity: dark, neutral suits and trench coats, hats and sunglasses, glossy, black dress shoes, and the exact same silver watches on each of their wrists. They were headed by the same woman Nancy kept butting heads with. She walked in the middle while two men were just shortly behind. And she was the only one with a briefcase tight in her fixed grip. The other two didn’t have one, but when the wind whipped and their coats opened, she could catch sight of the holsters on their hips.

“This isn’t all of you,” the man on the left said in place of a greeting. He was a tall and lanky guy. Bushy eyebrows and slicked, jet-black hair that just barely poked out of his fedora.

“No. It’s not.” Hopper answered, though clearly not giving up the information the man wanted him to. Silently challenging the guy to push it. See how tough he really thought he was. Hop took a step forward and told him,” But it’s everyone you’re going to get. So, let’s talk.”

“Let’s.”

The woman cut between them, seeming to try and soften the tension, though Nancy felt like she did the opposite every time she’d seen her,“ Why don’t we start with what happened to you? It’s been months since you were presumed dead-”

“Eight months,” the guy on the right clarified. Shorter than the other. With a mop of dirty blonde on his head and a speckling of freckles across his cheeks.

Hop just shrugged and blew between his lips casually,“ Not much. Blew up the mall gate. Wasn’t enough to kill me. Russians came back. Found me. Smuggled me out. Threw me in a cell. Sat in prison til we snuck our way back over.”

“You say that like it’s simple-” the woman started.

“It’s the simplest part of this mess because it’s over and dealt with.” He declared,” So let’s skip to the next part: the bullshit happening right here, right now.”

And she didn’t really seem to like that answer. Probably something about paperwork and files that would be left blank or vague about his unaccounted-for time. But the blonde didn’t hold any argument.

“So, what do you know?” he asked, content with moving right along to the current shit show.

“We know there’s a problem in fair Verona. A disagreement.” Will spoke up. Having just covered the play in Lenora, the legendary dueling families were fresh on his mind. And the need to know if these people were friends or foes to his sister was one of the most urgent concerns he'd been thinking over time and time again.

And then, as if Mike was right there in his head, he continued the comparison,“ A disagreement about what to do with El. So, are you Montagues or Capulets?”

The woman rolled her eyes, and with an exasperated tone said,“ We’re in this with Dr. Owens. We know the girl didn’t cause all of this-”

“But we don’t know what did.” The blonde stepped forward to insist,” Care to enlighten us with what you’ve found out while you were running around?”

Nancy shifted in her seat,“ How much do you know about Dr. Brenner’s original experiment?”

“His data’s on a need-to-know basis,” he returned.

“So nothing? Or just about?” Nancy guessed. Enjoying just a little bit of how it felt to know more than them about the atrocities of their department’s precious scientist.

“The point?” the black-haired one pushed.

“Well - since it’s all ‘need-to-know’ at this point anyway - the first child he snatched for his superpowered kids game was Henry Creel. I assume you’ve at least looked into what happened at the Creel house a few decades ago considering the similarity in the recent murders?”

The woman gritted her teeth,“ Yes, we have-”

“Good.” Nancy steamrolled on through,” After those, the doctor got custody of him. Made him subject number one of his great experiment. Used him as the blueprint to try and replicate his… condition, in others. But, if the dead and tortured family was any indication, he wasn’t very stable. For some reason, or other, the doctor removed him from the experiment and kept him in the lab to keep an eye on him. Gave him an implant that suppressed his abilities. Henry didn’t like that. So when he got the implant out and had the opportunity to use them again, he killed over a dozen of the newer models and just about every member of staff at the lab.”

“El,” Mike jumped in,” was the one who stopped him from getting out by getting rid of him. She was stronger. Trapped him in the Upside Down all on her own. Practically by accident. On instinct. So he couldn’t hurt more people.”

“Sounds like a happy ending. Just one problem: what’s he been doing causing death and destruction over the course of these last two weeks then?” the taller man asked.

“It’s not been just these past two weeks. Every time we’ve had… an ‘event’ it’s been him trying to get back. Get back here.” Joyce informed.

Hop summarized the timeline,“ Three years ago, Dr. Brenner was pushing her, and she made contact in the Upside Down. Once Henry found out there that there must be a way to reopen that connection, he was. He’s been trying to claw a way back here and finish business. Which we’re all pretty keen on not letting him do.”

“Why- What does he want to do that we can’t let happen? If he’s just trying to come back, why doesn’t El just open the door and let him through so all the other things stop mixing in?” the woman asked, rubbing her temples.

“He wants to destroy everything,” Nancy answered. Cold. Remembering what he showed her. His promise for what he’d do.

The air of the conversation shifted. The three of them were finally starting to understand the stakes at play this time.

“It wasn’t just about hurting the people in the lab that made him a prisoner. He wants to get rid of all of it.” Jonathan explained a little further.

“What would he even gain from that?”

Nancy took back over,“ He thinks humanity is a failure. A calamity with faults so deeply ingrained in us that the only choice is to start creation, civilization, all over again. In his image of what’s right and natural, of course.”

“And- where do we stand with this? With keeping this from happening?”

“He needed to take four lives to open the gate and get back onto this side. We met him in the Upside Down while he was staking out Max and lit his ass up.” Steve answered with a slight nudge to Nancy’s shoulder for being the one to fire the buckshot right into his ugly mug.

“But it wasn’t enough.” She admitted,” Max died. And he disappeared when the gate opened, but El kept her from staying dead, so the gate snapped shut again. We don’t know what happened after that. He could be in some kind of limbo between dimensions, or hiding out somewhere here, or still on the other side. We just don’t know. Will can’t feel him.”

The blonde looked at the boy,“ You can’t?”

Will shook his head,“ Not like the last times he’s come back. He’s not totally there, sparking things up again. But he’s not gone. He’s still there, just… small, and- and it’s like he’s curled up in some corner. Putting himself back together.”

“And what happens when he’s got himself straightened out?” the other man asked, unkept eyebrows raised.

Nancy let out a remorseful huff,“ Best guess is he tries to brute force the gate back open with Max’s half-death. Or he’ll try to reach back over and finish the job. Maybe even go after someone new if he has to, but he doesn't like losing, so surely he wants to get at Max.”

“Which we won’t let happen.” Steve needed to say.

The agents looked… off-kilter. Like they’d been rocked off of their foundation for the first time. The first real surprise. They were used to dealing with weird things. Unusual, inexplicable things. Dangerous things. But this was a whole new ball game, and there were finally getting a lay of just how messed up the land was this time.

“And what of the NINA Project?” the woman steered the conversation, wanting to finish fleshing out where they all stood within the organization.

“We didn’t stick around long. But what we did see was a lot of bodies, a lot of fire, a helicopter fell out of the sky… and Dr. Brenner can’t hurt El anymore.” Jonathan filled in.

“Dr. Owens?”

“Didn’t see him.” Will said,” We’ve been telling El to take it easy after the fight and trying to find One again, so she hasn’t tried to find him yet, but she doesn’t know what happened. Didn’t see him after Brenner drugged her.”

“But the girl, the project itself, it was successful…?”

Mike confirmed,“ Her powers are back. Stronger than they were when they went away. But that doesn’t mean that this will just get taken care of with a snap of her fingers when we find him. She threw everything she had at him-”

Nancy threw in,“ While the rest of us were risking our lives doing the same-”

“-And all that didn’t finish him off. Somehow, he’s still kicking. And he’s going to keep trying to get back over here if we can’t take the fight to him and end it for real.”

The three agents were silent for a minute. Processing, if the locals had to guess. Trying to figure out what it all meant and what options they had. They all looked deflated by the time the woman spoke up.

“What’s the plan?”

“Wow, you don’t have one for us? Shocker.” Nancy cut out.

“We-”

“It’s so surprising that you are, yet again, useless.”

Joyce put her hand over Nancy’s to try and soothe her,” We’ll figure it out.”

The woman sounded humbled, quieter, when she next asked,“ What can we do?”

And maybe that was it.

Maybe that’s what Nancy has been waiting to see. To see them accept it, just accept that they messed up. Accept that they didn’t have all the answers. That they were wrong. They didn’t say it outright. That was probably lesson one when they joined the supernatural clean-up crew: Not admitting culpability.

But that silence. And the question that followed.

It did something. Took some pressure off the hair-trigger of Nancy’s rage. Because it meant she’d been justified before. She was right and now they knew it.

She took a breath and calmly asked,“ Can you bankroll a trip to the RadioShack and wherever else we go to for supplies?”

And the woman nodded,“ We can do that."

“And Eddie and Max’s hospital bills,” Mike added.

“And when two more come to town, we need to get their citizenship worked out.” Joyce considered the Antonov’s.

“And find a way to make sure the California Stowaways don’t have any problems trying to graduate after this mess.” Jonathan thought for himself and Argyle.

“And, if you hear anything from Dr. Sam, you let us know. You let us know if you hear anything about unexplainable earthquakes, demo-murders, or general Upside Down related business. The minute you know. So we all stay on the same page.” Nancy spoke.

“And whatever Max wants when she wakes up, she gets. Period.” Steve added.

Jim pointed out,“ And guns. We’d like more guns.”

Nancy quickly agreed,“ I second the vote for guns.”

Which brought a smile to Hop’s face. That girl was something all her own.

“We’ll start working on things.” The man on the right said after he was done jotting things down in a notepad.

The three agents nodded a silent agreement and were about to walk away when the sight sparked something for Nancy.

“This is it?”

“What?” the woman asked her.

“This. The three of you. This is all of you that’s left. Isn’t it?”

The teens and two parents looked at her and then between the agents when they didn’t have a thing to say for themselves.

Jonathan questioned it next,“ Is she right?”

“We-” the leftie was about to lie when the woman cut him off for the simple truth.

“There are two others still working on contacting any of the team that might’ve made it out of the NINA Project. But besides that, this is all. We’re it.”

“You used to be dozens with a fleet of vans…” Mike wondered in shock, remembering the insurmountable difficulty they’d been to dodge three years before.

“The Capulets have made times difficult for the Montagues. We got stretched thin, and most of us that were trustworthy enough to stay on the force on Owen’s side went to work at the bunker in Nevada. The rest of us came out here when things started looking hairy. Which… isn’t a comforting reality, I’m sure. But, if you focus on fine-tuning that wishlist so we can be done with Fair Verona as a whole, maybe we still have a chance at getting out of this play better than the lovers did.”

Nobody really knew what to say. But the woman stepped forward and spoke directly to Nancy for her last lines.

“We’ll keep you updated with what we know, and you do the same. We haven’t gotten along well, up until this point. But we all want this to be over. And we all want to suffer as little damage as possible. We don’t have to be adversaries in getting across the finish line.”

Nancy met her gaze. And for the first time, she wasn’t so furious at the green staring down at her.

“Agreed.”

And then they were gone. Packed into black cars and driving off to “deal with business.”

And Nancy found herself left with… a vacancy where her anger had sat. She still had plenty to be mad about, but the focus of it that she had temporarily shifted onto the government suits was now gone. And she was left dissatisfied. And the hollow feeling wasn’t enough. It didn’t sit in her, filling her up and taking up her attention, like the anger did. And then she had to wonder if she might’ve made the whole mess worse than it needed to be. At least a little bit.

They were wrong for being in Hawkins and not saying anything, yes.

They were wrong for letting El suffer Dr. Brenner’s experiments again, yes.

They were wrong for taking down to her before, yes.

But she turned them into a big, evil monster in her head that they simply weren’t. They weren’t the monster they had to defeat at the end of the day. But maybe she’d decided they were because they got in her way enough and were something she could fight against while Vecna remained a big question mark in her notebook.

So maybe she’d been unnecessarily mean, fostered animosity between them because it felt better to have a reason. It felt better to have something to be mad at and yell in the face of.

Maybe she should be worried that it felt better to be mad at people who didn’t completely deserve it than to not have anything to do with herself.

“Welp,” Hopper clapped his hands on his legs and stood up, interrupting her train of thought,” I have a Chief of Police to soften up.”

“Bribery?” Joyce asked him, just a hint of judgment in her tone. Not much, though.

“If it works.”

After a little while, El had moved on to Eddie’s other hand. She was far more comfortable with holding it and painting along his short nails as she was reaching the end of her work. There was some discussion happening around her. Not one that she’d been paying much attention to for the last few minutes. She had followed along earlier. But over the last little bit of time, she’s had a question buzzing around her mind she really wanted to ask that was distracting her.

“Eddie?” she spoke quietly, not wanting to stop the room’s talk even if she was stealing his attention for a minute.

He looked away from Argyle’s lackadaisical questions about life growing up in rural Indiana he’d been posing for everyone over the last twenty minutes. She hadn’t looked at him when she spoke, kept her eyes fixed on the pinky finger in her hold as she started its first coat.

“Yeah, angel?”

She hesitated, swallowing to steel herself before she just tried to push it out,“ Dustin said… he said they call you ‘freak’ too?”

And maybe the words themselves would’ve sounded like a statement. But from her, they were certainly a question. And they sounded like just the tip of an iceberg. Because she said “too.” And she said it softly and ashamed.

Someone made her feel that way.

“Does someone call you that?” he asked, voice gentle as he could make it. The other three in the room pretended like they couldn’t hear them, instead trying to paint a picture for the Californian of the divisive political nightmare that was the Starcourt mall when it was built the summer before.

El didn’t answer though. Just kept her gaze on sweeping the black polish down his nail. Lips tight together with a slight, barely perceptible tremor that said all too much.

With a sigh, Eddie pulled on the part of his character that he thought might help.

“Well, for the record,” he started, bringing himself all high and mighty against her sullen expression,” over here they call me ‘The Freak.’ So, like, the freakiest freak of them all, you know. I get it. I am a freak. I’m weird and off and certifiably freaky, and I like it. But, you little lady? You ain’t no freak. You’re super normal.”

She giggled at the idea. Couldn’t help herself. Eddie must’ve had her figured all wrong to say something like that.

“What?” He wondered, playfully dropping his head to the side to look at her,” People never tell the kiddo with magic powers she’s normal?”

She cast her eyes up at him as if to ask “What do you think?” before quickly putting them back on their task.

He shrugged it off,“ I mean, sure, the magic power part is, admittedly, a little off the baseline. I won’t lie. And the haircut. But I’d say that makes you way cooler than everyone else. I was rocking the tight buzz myself once upon a time, and not everyone can make it work like the two of us do. But besides those two very small factors, you seem like just any other little girl to me. Way more normal than miss Erica over there. First time I met her, she was already lecturing me about venomous knives-”

“It was one poisoned kukri,” she corrected, unable to keep the comment to herself.

He lowered his voice and leaned in,“ See what I mean? But you? Nah, you’re just fine.”

She finally looked up and held his eyes,“ Fine?”

And he smiled back at her, as bright and assured as he could manage,“ Yeah. Just fine. And even if you were a freak like me, you’d still be fine. I’d accept you into my beloved kingdom and show you that being a freak isn’t bad. It’s actually a whole lot of fun. I know we’re still new to each other, but will you trust me on that much? As a freak speaking from experience on it?”

And she looked kind of like a weight had been lifted off of her. One she’s carried for so long with no idea how to understand. No idea how to get rid of or come to terms with.

But somehow, being told she was normal, even when it still didn’t quite fit… it felt better than all the times Mike called her his superhero.

She was different. No amount of “but it’s special” ever got rid of the feeling that there was something wrong with her. And for so long, she would’ve given anything not to be the way she was. And yet, here this guy was. This near stranger that told her he didn’t find her all that weird. That he didn’t find it impossible to look past the things the lab did to her.

It felt nice. To try and believe him for a minute. To pretend like “normal” would be an option after they shut the door on the Upside Down for good.

And maybe one day she’ll be able to believe she doesn’t need it anyway. Decide that normal was fine and all, but she can also be a freak and still be just as fine because she chose to enjoy it. Eddie seemed happy enough in it. Even handcuffed to a hospital bed and having just escaped death, he was still loving being a freak.

“Yeah,” she decided. She’d trust his advice. Why not? It felt way better than the alternative.

“Good,” he remarked before splaying his hand to view for himself,” And thank you for my bitchin’ claws, kid. I’m sure Little Red’s set’ll look great too.”

“Thanks…” she smiled a little wider, capping the black polish and setting it down on the table by the bright orange they’d brought for Max’s.

“Of course. Surprise, surprise, she’s good at more than just saving lives. Though I doubt I’ll ever really get over the fact that you saved mine, you know. You would not believe the hell I’d have tried to raise if I died before I got to see Ozzy live.”

“Ozzy?” she asked, tilting her head with the inquisition.

And if he weren’t laid up and chained in place, Eddie would’ve tried to fling himself to the floor with a gasp.

“Another person who doesn’t know about the one and only Ozzy? God- you people are killing me here!” he groaned and writhed in his bed for effect, pulling another giggle out of the girl at his side while the rest of the room playfully rolled their eyes at his antics.

“Wasn’t sure you’d show.” Police Chief Powell said as Jim pushed in what used to be his door.

At least, it had been until he went and got himself abducted, of course. Now it was Calvin’s. And he sat behind the desk wearing a face that Hopper probably guessed he’s worn before. Long nights, early mornings, shit getting kicked up faster than a town as small as theirs had any right to. He remembers being in that spot and feeling just as exhausted as Calvin looked.

He strode in with the confidence that said that office was still his in some way,” Said I would.”

“Yeah, but you always hated mornings at the station. Came in late as often as you could.” Powell pointed out.

Jim smiled and shook his head,“ You got me there. But I’m here, with coffee, as promised.”

He passed over the cheap paper cup. Took his seat in the chair opposite him while the man popped off the lid and shook out a few packets of sugar, definitely stolen from the break room and squirreled away in his desk drawer.

“Still got a sweet tooth?” he teased and sipped on his own cup, black and bitter.

The man raised an eyebrow at him while he stirred it around,“ You weren’t gone that long, you know.”

Jim had to give it to him,” Guess not. Not long enough for you to grow out of it, at least.”

They drank from their cups in a familiar, comfortable silence while Jim looked around the room. It was mostly the same. He’d never decorated much, so there wasn’t much to be taken down or changed. Same knots in all the wood grain. Same dents and scratches in the walls. Same scraps under the chair legs. New name on the nameplate, though. New man in the chair. New computer set up in front of him, big and clunky and off-white. Jesus Christ, Jim’s happy he involuntarily gave up the job before they’d made him regularly use one of those things, at least.

But, thinking of chiefly duties…

“Well, Cal, how’s it looking for the kid?” Jim brought up.

He looked at him for a second and asked, waving his cup to him,“ How do you even know Eddie Munson all that well? You’ve been gone for eight months, Jim. And while you were still here, we never busted him for the drugs.”

Jim settled back in the chair further and recounted,“ I told him to quit it a time or two, but didn’t want to make a fuss on his record about it. Never caught him in the act, and only ever with a baggie of pot on him.”

He took another sip and continued,“ But, besides that, I just want to see something done right by him. By this whole mess, I’ve heard about. I can’t explain how I know that what all the kids are saying is the truth. That he’s innocent. But I just do. Would stake my life on it. He didn’t do anything to the girl or those boys.”

Powell almost nodded to the fact, given what they’d been working on uncovering over the last few days,“ Well, we’ve been investigating the case based on their testimonies…”

He let his words trail off, but Hop was impatient for some good news.

“And?”

Powell met his eyes, and with a tone of near-disbelief, he admitted,“ We haven’t found a single shred of evidence to suggest they’re lying about it. Nothing beyond the locations of the murders speaks to Eddie having had anything to do with it. And while the kids could’ve had time to coordinate their stories with each other, the others we’ve interviewed couldn't have. And with the background we’ve dug up on the victims… The claim that this was all a huge mess perpetrated by Jason Carver as he kept digging himself a deeper hole to cover his tracks… it’s the more plausible theory between the two. Way more than the idea that Eddie just went crazy all of a sudden and convinced so many people to cover for him this well.”

“So you’re saying…?”

“We can’t charge a dead man with the crimes. Can’t detain him and interrogate him while we look for more evidence.” Powell pointed out, regretfully,” But we can drop Eddie from the suspect list. Take the cuffs off him, make an announcement, and turn him loose.”

“That’s good news, Cal. I’m sure he’ll be happy to hear it.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Better than sending him to the clink for something he didn’t do just to satisfy this town’s thirst for blood.”

“Aint that the truth.”

There was almost time for another silence to fall around them. But Calvin had a question to pose before it settled very long.

“So, what’ll you do now that you’re back?”

And it probably should’ve been a scary question. The prospect of the unknown. A whole slew of decisions to make now that his life’s been so completely thrown off-track. He probably should’ve already had some idea of a plan in place for what he’d return to without the walls of a Soviet prison making all the choices for him.

“I have no clue.” he honestly answered instead.

“What? Don’t want to get rehired back here at the station?”

“And do this grunt work?” They shared a hearty chuckle that spoke to all their years of complaining about both having not enough and way too much to do before he explained,” Nah. I don’t know what I’ll do, but I think I’m tired of trying to make this whole damn town my responsibility.”

“You think you already have enough of it with that kid of yours?”

Fondness crept its way into his face,“ Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“How did that even happen? I feel like I had no clue you were even looking to adopt, much less had a kid already when you died and she was moving away with Joyce.”

“That’s a crazy story, Cal. Crazier than the shit that’s gone on here in recent days, I swear. But, uh, she’s mine. And she means everything to me. And I don’t want to do anything except be a good dad for her now. A job just seems like a waste of precious time.”

Powell brought his hands together and wistfully sighed,“ I hear ya…”

“What? Chief ain't treating you right? Wasn’t all it cracked up to be?”

“Don’t you make it sound like I’m whining about it. Wasn’t too much more to deal with until all this shit hit the fan. But this shit has been…”

“Hell on earth?” Jim supplied.

“Exactly. Slept either here or in the cruiser more nights than I did at home. I think the Missus is just about ready to march in here and drag me back into the cold side of the bed I left her with.”

Jim’s eyes snapped to his with more attention,“ Missus? So you and Wendy?”

“Finally tied the knot,” he pulled back his hand to reveal the wedding band on his left ring finger that he’d been twisting.

“Wow, been waiting on you to do it, what, six years now? And you up and decide to commit while I’m gone.”

“I ‘up and decided to commit’ because you were gone. Seeing you here one day and then just - poof - not anymore… Thought about taking up your badge and if the same thing happened to me… I was done wasting time.” Powell detailed the whole affair for the man who missed it,” So I bought the ring and proposed that same month. She spent forever on the phone, planning the whole thing out with her sister. Got married in December. Honeymooned over Christmas and New Year's.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was. And, in a way, I had you to thank.”

Jim shook his head at that,“ Nah, you woulda wisened up one of these days. With or without me.”

“Maybe. But why don’t you tell me when you’re going to wisen up.”

“What does that mean?”

“You think the whole you-and-Joyce thing is subtle?”

They shared another laugh before Jim conceded,” No, I guess it isn’t.”

“You gave her your kid, Jim! That’s nearly grounds for an engagement right there.”

“Don't start talking like that, or I’ll get ideas and scare her off, Cal. We haven’t even had a single date yet.”

He was a little taken aback,“ Didn’t you two…? Back in high school?”

“No. Never.” Hopper corrected him,” We just ran into each other a lot, hung out cutting class sometimes…”

Powell didn’t really look like he believed him, but he let it slide to check him,” But now you’ll get a move on?”

“I guess now I owe it to her to get a move on. Already made her wait eight months for a damn dinner.”

Cal whistled,” Oh yeah, sounds like you best get a move on.”

“How ‘bout you do the same?” He said while he got up,” I’m sure that the kid’d like to know he’s a free man as soon as possible. You promised me you wouldn’t drag your feet on this.”

Powell stood up with him,“ And I’m not. Just waiting for Flo to let me know the machine’s done spitting out the official report. Then I'll be headed out to get started on cleaning things up.”

Before Jim turned to leave, he asked,“ Could I ask you for another favor?”

“What do you want from me now?”

“Nancy Wheeler. She’d been writing up the story on what happened for the school newspaper. She’s the only one with the inside scoop, has both the Munsons talking to her, and the most in-depth coverage of both the during and after of the arrest.”

“That’s good for her.”

“It is.” He agreed,” And if her's got to be the first article announcing that the charges have been dropped, before even the tv crews do, it’d go a long way for her resume down the line."

“I’ll bet it would."

"Especially since she'll have to help spearhead women in investigative journalism in the first place.”

"I never did like the press... But you tell her she can stop by and get a quote. As long as none of the other kids get in the way of it, she can get her story printed before morning news runs with it tomorrow.”

“I will. Thank you. Really. I’m happy to know the seat I left empty got filled by someone fit to sit in it.”

“God, what’d they do to you while you were gone?” Powell rounded the desk to stand next to him,” You’ve gone all sappy and soft in your time off.”

Jim bumped against his shoulder,“ Let’s just call it gettin’ old and leave it at that.”

“And see, I would've bet good money you’d be one of them crotchety things. Screaming from your front porch at everyone who dares pass by.”

“I woulda bet on it too. Now look at me.”

“It’s a good look on you. Enjoy it.”

Then, Flo burst through the doors, thumbing through freshly printed papers and eyeing them through her glasses instead of looking up,“ Your paperwork is all done, Chie- Jim? How are- When did you slip in?”

“Flo,” he greeted simply with a smile to the woman who practically kept that department running by being the biggest pain in his ass the entire time.

She tucked herself against his side in a quick hug, turns out working with someone for about eight years mean they miss you a little bit. Who would have guessed?

She held the papers into her chest and reached out to shove at his shoulder,“ I’m almost scared to ask if this is someone’s stupid idea of an April Fool’s joke.”

“It’s April first?” Jim asked, looking at the calendar on the wall that was fully crossed off but hadn’t been flipped to the new month yet.

“Sure is,” she confirmed while Powell took the hint to change it.

“Thanks for reminding me…” Jim thought of something for a minute,” I’ll be heading off. Was good catching up.”

With Eddie’s hands all painted, Argyle found himself the only one in the room without. He’d held out his hand for Erica and asked if she thought he’d look cute with shimmery pink nails like hers. Which made all of them laugh. But she said it didn’t exactly fit his vibe, so he then turned to all of the girls and was letting them debate what kind of color they’d put him in if they could. There were a few ideas of a mossy green, or a peachy orange, or maybe a daffodil yellow when Hop’s voice cracked through the walkie they’d perched on the windowsill of the hospital room.

“Hey, any rotten kids around?”

Robin leaned over and snatched it off the ledge,” Rotten kids one through five checking in. What’s the word on the construction for gallows in the town square?”

“Just spoke to Cal on how the case is looking,” was all he answered.

Robin took a look around the room with a stilted expression,“ And? What’d he say?”

There was no response.

“Hello? Requesting status on the conflict between Ex-Chief, Jim Hopper, and Current Chief, Calvin Powell?” she joked.

Hop’s voice came back in a low rumble,“ I’m real sorry, kid…”

All at once, Eddie felt his stomach plummet through the tile floor.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

They’d been joking around and having fun all morning… he forgot for a minute that things don’t always just turn out. They usually didn’t before he found out the world was ending, but his luck hadn’t been so bad recently. He cheated death and made some new friends, but it seemed the legal system was going to be a fouler beast to defeat.

Shit.

Jim continued,“ They’ve been digging through everything, but it’s just not enough to convince them…”

Robin shook her head as his voice faded out. She looked back up at the accused man and remained defiant,“ Don’t worry, Eddie. We- we can keep trying to figure this out. We’re not going to quit on you and we aren’t going to let them chuck you behind bars for the rest of your life. Okay? Well… We’ll put together a petition! Or gather a protest! Or- We have Nance’s paper she’s gonna publish! We’ll get people on your side and figure something out. We won’t give up on-”

But the radio cut right through her,“ I just can’t get ‘em to put you in prison stripes.”

And everything stopped.

Eddie's heart stopped beating, his lungs stopped breathing, the whole fucking Earth stopped spinning under him.

“Wait-” Robin asked herself before remembering to pull the walkie up to her face and click the button,“ What?”

The next time Hopper’s voice came through, they could hear the grin he was trying to fight back,“ He’s on his way down now to tell you officially, but the Hawkins Police Department is dropping the charges. Congratulations. You buncha deviants did a good job showin’ ‘em all what’s what.”

“Are you kidding?!” Eddie’s voice rang through the room, Robin having clicked down the button in time for Jim to catch most of it.

“What? Nobody’s ever heard of an April Fool’s joke?” he asked.

“Most April Fool’s jokes aren’t supposed to make the victim die of a heart attack!” the man yelled, voice rising in pitch.

“He’s still breathing ain’t he?”

“Oh my god- as if that even makes it okay to tell a guy he’s going to be prosecuted for like a hundred murders-”

“It would’ve been three, maybe four, and an assault at most, Eddie,” Robin tried to remind him, setting down and forgetting the walkie on the table.

“They would’ve sentenced me to like a hundred years, Robin!” he argued back.

“I just told you we would’ve figured it out-”

“I’ll take that as a yes. So, he’ll be fine.” Jim assumably answered the silence he received.

El took the walkie herself to tell him,” Was still a mean joke.”

“You kids need to lighten up. Yeesh. Nobody around here knows how to have any fun anymore.”

Eddie’s room filled up after that. Nancy, Steve, Mike, and Will arrive shortly after, just barely beating Chief Powell. He went over all the news with Eddie and the officer there. They undo his cuffs and explain that he won’t even have a misdemeanor for the drug distribution he admitted to at the end of the day. And since Nancy was right there, she got his statement and would get to send out her papers before the news channels ran an official announcement. If he faced any harassment despite it, though, the Hawkins Police department would help him out.

Then the rest of Hellfire showed up. Dustin and Lucas, along with Jeff, Gareth, Bruce, and Josie. Those four were particularly relieved to see him okay after everything. Not having received any update between Jason’s “Where’s Eddie?” interrogation and “Eddie Munson; Prime Suspect” and “Eddie’s in the hospital” they got from the boys that same morning. They were just saying their hellos when a nurse came in and tried to show them out.

“Awe, but we were celebrating,” Dustin complained to her.

She just looked down at him and hummed,“ Well, I’m sure Mr. Munson would prefer that we checked over everything privately. Like getting that catheter removed. Am I correct?”

Eddie didn’t hesitate to erupt with a pointed finger towards the door,“ Everybody, get the fuck out! Now!”

They got him taken care of and returned his things, but kept him in the hospital gown and hooked up to the IV.

They weren’t letting him out just yet. Turned out that when you nearly die of blood loss, the medical community likes to hold on to you. Make sure the wounds start healing over well, and there wouldn't be any deficits before the guy could start strolling about town. Who knew.

They decided to keep him until the end of the week, just to be safe.

In any news, they let his friends back in to annoy him. And, if Max’s mother signed some moving paperwork, she’d get wheeled into his room to share the rest of his stay with her the next morning. Hellfire made plans to camp out with him sometime and hold a one-shot around his bedside. Even roped newly returned Will Byers in agreeing to play, even though he didn’t know the rest of the club and was a little nervous.

When four o’clock hit, his uncle arrived and pulled him out of the bed for a real hug after the room emptied out.

Everyone else scampered off home, save for Robin, Nancy, and Steve.

They went to the school and used Nancy’s key to the newsroom to format her release and get Steve’s story for it. He sat on the light table while Robin threw questions at him. And they argued about how exactly he should word his answers the whole time Nancy typed away at the computer. They were crammed together working on it for a few hours, easily. And then they gathered up by the printer and folded hundreds of copies of the account. Using the school’s dime and credentials to get the news out as quickly as possible with at least a little reliability.

They were filling up milk crates from the cafeteria with stacks of them and loading them up into the Surfer Boy Pizza van when Jonathan and Argyle stopped by. The pair ran them around town and packed them into the newspaper boxes, even though technically they weren’t supposed to. Steve and Robin ran a few of them around the homes of people they knew were in a lot of the local groups and communities and would spread the word the fastest, and to Eddie’s neighbors. Those of them that were still at the trailer park.

Nancy dropped off copies in the mailboxes of some of the businesses for them to see first thing in the morning: the Hawkins’ Post and local news station, particularly. And then she dropped off a bunch of enveloped ones at the post office like they had when they released the tape about Barb less than two years before. To correct the brigade they’d been running with over the last week.

By the time the sun came back up, it should be on a world that believed Eddie was innocent. Or at least could be convinced of it soon.

As they were finishing up their rounds and headed back towards Robin’s house for drop-off, Steve stopped by his mailbox. He’d forgotten to for the last few days, and when they were about to pass it by, he figured he should grab anything while he was thinking about it before he came back later and forgot again.

There was a little bit that built up. Nearly all of it was addressed to his parents. But there was one letter with Steve’s name on it. Sent from the Family Video Headquarters in Glenview, Illinois.

“What…?” he mumbled to himself when he saw it.

“Come on, Steve,” Robin called from the rolled-down window,” Let’s get me home, so my parents don’t try to find new reasons to disapprove of our treasured friendship.”

“Just a second.”

Steve tore open the envelope right there, standing outside by his mailbox with the others tucked under his arm. When he pulled out the papers inside, they certainly held a surprise of a completely different kind. Not the stuff he got surprised with earlier that week. Not supernatural, end of days stuff. Instead, the mail spoke of incredibly mundane, and yet totally shocking stuff.

“Holy shit…”

Robin perked up at his expression while he read the paper“ Steve? What is it?”

He didn’t even look up for the paper when he quietly sputtered,“ I’m the manager…”

“What?” Robin knocked her head to the side and opened the door. Stepping out onto the street and rounding the car to join him.

“I-” he tried to start, then switched gears and looked at her,” Keith skipped town. So did half the staff. It’s just you, me, and Alex left in Hawkins now. Family Video sent the letter to me because I’m older and have the most hours on the schedule. They can’t convince anyone else to move out here to take over the building since Hawkins is so cursed in the public eye. So I- I’m the manager now.”

Her eyes fell to the paper, and she parroted his first thought,“ Holy shit…”

“We’re supposed to re-open on Friday and try to get things back in business.”

After… everything… that was so out of left field.

“April Fools?” Robin tried.

“They sent over the rest of the keys and instructions…“ Steve separated the open letter from the stapled packet behind it and held up the three new keys he had. For the office door, locked filing cabinet, and emergency exit.

“So, not April Fools…” Robin looked at the official paperwork and reminded him,” Steve. You don’t know how to run a store.”

Which, yes, was true. Steve did not know how to run a store. But the thing was that Steve and Robin never did any work truly on their own. So he looked back up at her and emphasized how absolutely tied together they were in it.

“We don’t know how to run a store.” he corrected.

“We don’t know how to run a store.” she agreed.

“We’ll have to figure it out…”

[hairmetal666]

Eddie thought inviting Steve to the Grammys would be fine, cool, no big deal. And it should be, but Steve is walking out of the suite's bedroom wearing a burgundy tuxedo that fits him like a fucking glove. His shirt is unbuttoned just enough to let chest hair peak out, and Eddie thinks he might faint.

He's always been attracted to Steve, of course, but never let it go further than that. Like, sure, Steve was hot as fuck, and sure he was the best guy Eddie had ever met, and sometimes, yeah, he did have to force away thoughts of Steve when he jerked off, and in other circumstances he'd totally be head over heels. Just, Steve is straight, the straightest, a fucking arrow.

Eddie tears his eyes from Steve's body. "You look great, man." He slaps Steve's back. Keeping it cool; keeping it so cool.

"Psh," Steve says. "Have you looked in a mirror? Oh my god." His eyes are saucer wide as they travel down Eddie's body.

"Is it too much?" Eddie crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"Are you kidding? You're--fuck, man. You look good as hell."

He's wearing a silky burgundy shirt, open to show off the necklaces around his throat, his tattoos, the silver in his nipples. His pants are leather, tight, sitting low on his hips and putting the cut of his pelvic bone on full display. They have a lace-up closure that comes dangerously close to showing pube.

Heat rushes to his face at the compliment. "It's--you know. Hazard of the job."

"Yeah, hazard, sure. Guess it's a hard life having hot dudes literally throwing themselves at you."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "That's a vast exaggeration."

"Is it?"

He blushes harder. "You're my date tonight, Steve."

"My point exactly."

His manager and publicist usher them out the door before he can ask what the hell that meant.

---

The ride is giddy and playful, Steve popping champagne to celebrate Eddie's nomination for Song of the Year, even though there's no chance in hell he wins.

Steve is happy. His face is bright with joy, eyes shining, laugh loud and infectious. He's gorgeous, knows it, will be an absolute menace on the red carpet. He's been with Eddie to parties and stuff before, doesn't have any anxiety in front of the camera and isn't obsessed with musicians like Eddie is, unafraid to meet them.

Or so Eddie thought.

Because now they're standing at the edge of the red carpet, Steve very nearly trembling next to him.

"Harrington?"

"That's--That's Madonna." Steve points to her. "We're not even ten feet away from Madonna." He gulps. "Eddie. Madonna."

Steve has met famous people before with Eddie. Ozzy, briefly, Janet Jackson, Dave Grohl, James Hetfield, and he'd always been fine. Barely batted an eye. But get him within reaching distance of Madonna and he falls apart.

Eddie doesn't think about it, grabs Steve's hand, twines their fingers together. "Okay?"

The smile Steve throws him, grateful and a little embarrassed, stabs straight through his heart. He calms as they make it up the carpet, but he doesn't drop Eddie's hand, even when they pause for pictures. In fact, he leans into it, drapes his arm around Eddie's shoulders, or around his waist, seeming to thrive the closer they are. Eddie feels this dangerous pull to indulge in it, to let himself believe it means something, and he doesn't quite have it in him to turn it off.

By the time they reach their seats, Steve is relaxed back to his normal charming and handsome self, doesn't bat an eye as Eddie introduces him around.

The show passes quickly with all the performances and Steve whispering jokes in his ear. It's the best time he's ever had at an award show, like he should have been bringing Steve along this whole time. He's so distracted that he's not really ready when Paula Abdul comes out to announce Song of the Year.

His name is read off as a nominee and Steve grabs his hand, squeezes tight. Eddie's heart flips in his chest. He's not paying attention when Paula opens the envelope, too focused on Steve's strong hand holding his. He hears her say, "And the Grammy goes to--" and everything goes fuzzy.

Steve is saying, "oh my god, oh my god, Eddie. Get up, get up."

And his fucking song is playing and everyone is cheering, a couple people slap his back, and oh shit, oh shit, he fucking won. He stands, Steve with him. He thinks they're going to hug, that's what you do in these situations, but Steve is kissing him. Not on the cheek and not a quick peck, but lip-to-lip, soft and sweet.

Steve just kissed him and he has to get on stage and give a speech. He has no idea what he says because Steve just kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. His ears are ringing and words tumble out of his mouth, thinks he says, "couldn't have done it without you, Stevie," before tripping over his feet to get backstage.

Interviews, photographs, congratulations all help him settle. He's still buzzing with the win, but aware enough now to think the kiss had to be an accident. They've been friends for nearly a decade and Steve never seemed interested in men generally or Eddie specifically.

It takes a while to finish up the backstage business, but when he makes it to his seat, Steve just beams at him. He doesn't mention the kiss, which makes Eddie think he's overreacting. It wasn't a big deal. Sure, he could still feel Steve's lips, warm and soft, against his own, but it didn't mean anything. He's just too in his big gay feelings to be objective.

They don't get a chance to really talk until they're back in the limo and on their way to the after-party.

"You won," Steve says.

"I won." Eddie smiles. "Crazy."

"You deserved it."

He shrugs. "I don't know about that."

"Doesn't matter. You did." Steve fidgets with the cuff of his jacket. "About earlier, um. The kiss. I--"

Eddie feels his face heating, heart kicking up. It was nothing, he knows, and Steve shouldn't have to-- "It was an accident. It's okay. I know you don't--it was the heat of the moment and--I know you're not--you don't--"

Steve blinks a lot, emotions flashing across his face faster than Eddie can categorize.

"What if I do?" Steve asks. His voice is too soft, eyes locked on the cuff link he's fiddling with.

"You--what?"

"What if I did mean it?"

"You're straight."

Steve goes pink. "I'm really not."

"Steve?" He shrieks. "Since when?"

"Um. Since you invited me to this?"

"What the fuck?" Eddie shoves him. "What the fuck, man?"

"I know, I know!" Steve pulls his hand through his hair. "You invited me and I freaked out and I didn't know why, and Robin made the saddest little face at me. Said, 'oh, dingus, you didn't know?' How the fuck was I supposed to know!"

"I think you wanting to fuck me should've been a pretty good indication!"

"I thought that happened to everyone!"

"It doesn't!"

"That's what Robin said!"

They're both yelling.

"Jesus christ. Jesus christ," Eddie keeps repeating.

"Look, I get it if you don't want me too, dude. I know that's not how it works, but I've been pretty crazy about you without realizing it for a while now, so--"

He doesn't mean to, he really doesn't, but he laughs. Like, super loud. Like a donkey bray.

"Okay, can the driver let me out? Like, can I go? I can't--"

"Wait, wait, sweetheart." Steve's gotten up, like he's about to knock on the partition, but Eddie grabs his wrist. "Of course I want you back, you idiot, oh my god."

"Oh." Steve's ears are pink. "Oh. Well. That's good."

Eddie huffs. "Just good? I won a Grammy and the guy I've been pining over for years wants me back. I'm having the night of my life."

"Shut-up." Steve's smile is so big, his eyes so bright.

He raises an eyebrow. "Make me," he says in his lowest register, but he's truly not prepared for it when Steve clambers over to him and lowers himself to straddle Eddie's hips.

"Holy shit," Eddie whispers. "Holy shit, Steve."

He give a wry little smile, eyes locked on Eddie's mouth. "Baby, can I kiss you?"

"Yes." Eddie clears his throat. "Yes, please, do that. Yeah."

Only, he doesn't. He's straddling Eddie, they're so close their breath mingles, and Steve's eyes flicker between Eddie's mouth and his eyes, lips so close to touching but not.

"C'mon, asshole," Eddie says.

"I knew you'd be a brat." He whispers. He wraps his hands into Eddie's hair. "Been dying to do this."

And then they're kissing. They're kissing and it steals all of Eddie's breath and his thoughts, and it's new but it's also like they've been kissing forever, like their lips and tongue know each other, like coming home.

He whines, high-pitched and breathy, and Steve laughs, kisses him deeper, moves closer, and Eddie feels how hard Steve is, the persistent pulse of him. And shit Eddie's close, on the brink just from this, from nothing, oh my god.

Steve's hands drift down Eddie's torso, mapping his chest and his stomach, coming to rest at the laces of his pants. "These have been driving me insane," Steve breaks the kiss to say. "Been thinking about undoing them all night."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that," Eddie groans.

"Why not?"

"Because--because," Eddie sputters but then Steve's lips are on his neck and he's rolling his hips for friction.

Steve's fingers find the laces again, trace against them. Eddie's legs fall open, arching into the touch. "We're going to be so late," he murmurs as Steve's fingers get to work.

[buckyalpine]

Bucky can’t lie

A smutty thot. Imagine the avengers fucking around with a lie detector test, testing how well the super soldiers were trained. Steve failed instantly while stating his own name, blushing from embarrassment. Bucky was shoved into the chair next.

And he was disgustingly good.

The wires were attached to him within seconds, with questions flying left right and center. He crossed his arms over his chest with an eyeroll, answering the most ridiculous questions each person would throw at him.

"What the hell Barnes, there's no way, you can't be serious"

The super soldier smirked, while the others watched the needle scratch on the paper steadily, not a single signal indicating he was lying. It was going great until Tony's eyes lit up with a brilliant idea.

“Wait. Get y/n in here”

You sauntered into the room, scrunching your face seeing Bucky hooked up to the machine, while the rest of the team stared at him intently. The faintest uptick scratched onto the paper making Steve cock an eyebrow while Bucky's expression remained the same.

"What am I doing here and why's Bucky-

"Shh, just stand there. We're trying to see if we can get Bucky to fail a lie detector test. Alright, new question. Is there anyone in this room you've thought about naked" Tony asked while all eyes stared at Bucky, the soldier biting his lip.

"No"

"Hm" Tony nodded, continuing. "Is there anyone in this room you've thought about having sex with"

"What kind of questions are you asking, pervert" Bucky exhaled through his nose, his finger tapping against the seat.

"Just answer the question Barnes" Tony smiled sweetly, grinning when the needle already started to move a little higher than before.

"No"

The needle ticked higher making Bucky huff, ignoring the way his face heated up when you stepped closer to peer at the paper.

"Interesting. Slight deception detected there Barnes, you sure about that?"

"Yes" Bucky forced through gritted teeth, managing to keep the needle from jumping around too much.

"Here, let me" You smirked, pulling Tony away from the seat, gazing into the soldiers eyes while he threw you a cocky smirk.

"Think you can do better doll?" He sassed while you shrugged, the scent of your perfume already making hi sweat.

"Have you ever thought of kissing me?" The needle jolted before Bucky could even open his mouth, making the others screech while Bucky shook his head. "Liar"

"You ever thought about me naked? You like watching me out on the field?"

"No" Bucky's pulse raced, his pants starting to feel too tight, the test scribbling wildly.

"Okay this mf lying" Sam snorted while Bucky's flushed cheeks grew hotter.

"Really? You ever think about me on my knees for you? Sucking your cock?"

"No" The needle nearly jolted off the sheet, making Tony cackle, clapping his hands madly while Steve blushed and chuckled, torn between watching his best friend's walls crumble and running out of the room with your questions getting filthier and filthier.

"You think about cumming down my throat? having me swallow all of you, telling you how good you taste?"

"No"

"You think about having me naked on your bed, soldier? Moaning for you? Screaming your name?"

"You think about stuffing me with your babies Jamie? Getting me pregnant with that serum running through your veins?"

"You want me to call you daddy baby? How about Sergeant"

"Do you want me to be your slutty baby, drip all over your cock"

"N-No" Bucky gritted out again while Sam threw his hands up.

"You're not fooling anyone dumbass, I think you broke the needle" The machine nearly gave way with a high pitched whizz matching Bucky's racing heartrate. You grinned, getting up from your seat, making him pant.

"Do I make you horny baby" You slinked onto his lap, making Bucky finally break his resolve, his hands flying to your waist.

"Fuck yes. C'mere" He hissed, ripping the wires off and tossing you over his shoulder with a spank while Tony peered over at the paper with a satisfied smirk.

"No lies detected"

[unclewaynemunson]

“I need to tell you something.”

Shitfuckno. Eddie doesn't even know why he's still surprised. This is how it always goes, after all. He should probably just give up and stop dating altogether – again.

Steve looks at him exactly as ominously as the words I need to tell you something require. Perfect Steve. Funny Steve. Sweet Steve. Sexy Steve. Steve, who Eddie had genuinely believed to be different.

Eddie sighs, barely suppressing a dark chuckle while he turns away from that perfect face. He doesn't want to look at Steve when he'll tell him the undoubtedly messed-up shit he's about to spill.

“Lemme guess, you're married?” That was what the last guy he dated told him, seven months after they got to know each other. It can't be much worse than that, can it?

Steve grabs Eddie's hand, causing him to involuntarily jerk up his head and meet his eyes.

“How did you know?”

Jesus H. Christ. Not again.

Eddie roughly pulls his hand out of Steve's grip and laughs a joyless laugh.

“Apparently I'm a good guesser.”

He stands up from the park bench the two of them had been sharing. “Well, Steve, this has been a blast. You should go back to your wife, or husband – don't tell me, I don't even wanna know – and I should um, get going. Maybe tell the next person right away what they'll be getting themselves into. Would save them a lot of wasted time, just in case cheating and going around other people's backs isn't really their thing, y'know.”

“Eddie, wait, let me explain!”

Eddie picks up his pace, but Steve, stubborn as he is, easily keeps up with him.

“I'm really not interested, man.”

“It's not – I'm not cheating on her!”

“Okay, so you have an open marriage, good for you. Still the kind of information you could've shared with me, say, three months ago, don't you think?”

“She's a lesbian.”

And that makes Eddie freeze on the spot. It takes Steve two steps before he realizes Eddie has stopped moving; he walks backwards until he's standing right in front of Eddie.

“She's my best friend,” he says, immediately using Eddie's stunned silence to his advantage. “Robin, my roommate – I told you all about her. We wanted to buy a house together and that turned out to be very complicated when you're not... Well, when you're not romantically involved. So we got married. For the, um, practical reasons. We never – we're like siblings. I love her like a sister. But she's also my wife. Platonically.”

It takes a few seconds until Steve's words sink in. Then, Eddie leaps forward and basically collapses into Steve's arms, needing to hold onto him to prevent himself from crashing to the ground.

Steve's arms are warm, strong, and as safe as ever.

“Eddie, are you okay?” Steve asks softly. His lips brush against Eddie's ear while he speaks, and worry colors his voice.

Perfect Steve. Too-good-to-be-true Steve.

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” is the only thing Eddie manages to say.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Steve says. “It's just – I've gotten some, um... Less than ideal reactions, in the past, whenever I told this when I was seeing someone. So I thought it'd be better to wait until things were getting serious.” He sighs, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair. “I didn't wanna scare you off. Are we – are you okay?”

Eddie nods. He lifts his head from where it's resting against Steve's shoulder and raises his hands to squeeze them around Steve's face.

“We're okay,” he says. “And I'm sorry I didn't want to listen to you. I–” He stops; he can't find the words right away. It's still difficult to talk about those things; to let himself be vulnerable. But Steve has been honest with him, so it's only fair to return the favor.

“I've been hurt, Steve,” he confesses. “More than once. I've had some really shitty experiences with dudes not being honest with me. I thought that that was what was happening again, and I couldn't – I couldn't go through that again. Especially not with you.”

“Jesus, Eddie, I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay,” Eddie rushes to say, pulling Steve even closer towards him. “I trust you.” And as soon as these words leave his mouth, he knows it's the truth.

“I do want to be absolutely clear about one thing, though,” Steve says.

Eddie leans back in Steve's arms to give him an expectant look.

“Robin is my wife. I'm not planning on that to change anytime soon. We've been through a lot together. She's been the most important person in my life for years. We own a house and a dog together, and I love her more than anything. I like you a lot, and I promise you I'm all-in with you, but... Robin is still my number one. And that's not gonna change overnight. I need you to be okay with that.”

Eddie swallows. He looks into Steve's eyes. All he sees is a man who is honest, who loves his friends deeply, and who refuses to make any compromises when it comes to love – whether it be the platonic or the romantic kind.

It doesn't scare Eddie off; it only makes him fonder of Steve.

He smiles, glances around to check if they're alone, and presses a quick kiss against Steve's lips.

“I think I can live with that,” he says. “As long as I'm the only one who gets to do this.” He closes his eyes and lets his lips meet Steve's again.

The sigh that Steve breathes into their tentative kiss is one filled with relief.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The older teens are hanging out at Steve's place.

Robin: Fuck, Marry, Kill the people in this room. Steve, you're up first.

Steve: Fuck Eddie, marry Eddie, and kill Eddie.

Argyle: *frowns* He can't do that, can he?

Eddie: Wait, is it all in that order?

Steve: Depends on how well you treat me. You going to treat me real good, baby?

Eddie: Reeeaal nice.

Steve: Good, so we fuck first, then we get married where we fuck a lot, and then when we're old and you're in a lot of pain, I'll lovingly smother you with a pillow.

Eddie: Aww.

Robin: Steve, this isn't supposed to be a serious, long-term plan kind of game!

Steve: Don't worry about her, ain't nothing going to stop me from marrying you.

Argyle: You guys make a cute couple, dudes.

Eddie: A couple? We're not dating. We're both straight.

Jonathan: *narrows eyes* Weren't you guys just making out?

Eddie: We do that all the time when we're high.

Steve: It's just some innocent kissing between friends. More popcorn?

Steve went into the kitchen, and Eddie followed him to get more drinks.

Robin: *her eyes wide* They're fucking with us right?

Vickie: Wouldn't he have told you?

Robin: *shrieks* You would think!

Nancy: They can't be that clueless, right?

That's when they heard it. Loud, obnoxious laughter coming from the kitchen.

Eddie: HAH! Straight!

Steve: I can't believe that we managed to keep a STRAIGHT face.

Robin: *closes her eyes* I hate them, I hate them, I hate them.

[randomshyperson]

Baby, I'm Yours - Wanda Maximoff Oneshosts

Summary: The Avengers gain a new member, and Wanda Maximoff mistakenly assumes she has gained a rival instead of a friend. Or the one where Wanda has a crush that she doesn't know how to deal with. [Requested]

Warnings: really fluff, enemies to lovers, some kissing and a lot of teasing, avengers being a family, emo!Wanda and her first gay crush. | Words: 4.564k

A/N-> This was requested a while ago and I used it as practice for a winter soldier!reader idea that I had. Idk if I would ever make a series out of this idea, but it was fun to write this reader.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

Seven months after she joined the Avengers, someone else did too.

Unlike her, Sam was extremely excited by the news, he woke up early and somehow managed to convince Vision to join him in the welcome. 

Wanda would have skipped the interaction - She only went to get breakfast and intended to spend the rest of the training-free day filled with interactions between the team, hiding in her room and watching old TV shows. But as soon as she noticed the little witch sneaking around the kitchen trying to go unnoticed by Sam's excited theories about who the new avenger would be, Natasha whistled and called out to her.

"Good morning, Maximoff. Do you intend to welcome our new colleague in pajamas?" The widow asked, hiding a teasing smile behind a cup of coffee. 

The question already implied what Wanda had feared, and made her sigh. "I didn't know I was expected to take part in the welcome."

Nat grimaced softly - she seemed to be finding the whole thing very amusing.

"What an idea, Maximoff, of course you are! We were all there waiting for you when it was your turn."

She forced a smile, resisting the urge to snap back something bratty like "Thor wasn't". Deciding she had no reason to argue with Natasha, she busied herself with preparing some toast and pouring herself some tea.

When Sam suddenly tapped on the counter, everyone looked at him.

"I got it!" he declared excitedly. "I bet the new guy is Spider-kid!"

Nat frowned. "Who?" and then chuckled to the Falcon's obvious disappointment.

"Come on, the colorful vigilante who keeps throwing webs around? How come you've never heard of him?"

Assuming a thoughtful expression for a moment, Nat flipped through the newspapers on the counter before clicking her tongue on the roof of her mouth.

"Ah, I think Tony's got his eye on that one." She says. "But, no, Wilson. The new recruit isn't the spider. And there's no point in giving me that look, as I won't spoil the surprise."

It looked like the subject was ending - at least that Sam was going to give up. It wasn't long before the rest of the team showed up for coffee, and Wanda mumbled a few good mornings back quickly before making her way to her own room, to change into something more presentable than fluffy pajamas.

But on the way to the bedroom, from one of the glass entrance doors, Steve Rogers appeared and he was accompanied.

"[...] Come on, we're early, they must still be having breakfast." Commented the older Avenger, busy taking off his coat, it took him a moment to notice that Wanda was in the hallway. She was staring, probably. "Oh, good morning, Wanda. I want you to meet someone."

But Wanda already knew you, straight from the television. And from the Shield's files of potential Avenger-level threats. 

So maybe that's why when Steve said your name, patted you on the shoulder and you held out your hand for Wanda to shake, she just stared.

"Okay, not a handshaker." You mumbled awkwardly, lowering your arm. "You're Wanda Maximoff, mind reader and former enemy, right? I didn't expect the shock, given the circumstances."

"Hey, easy." Steve grumbled at your aggressiveness, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. Wanda narrowed her eyes at you, but you didn't look too intimidated, your posture relaxed and your hands in the pockets of your leather jacket. "That's in the past. We're all friends now. Aren't we, Wanda?"

With some resistance, she eventually forced a smile and tried to relax her posture. She sighed and nodded. "Of course, Steve. It's nice to meet you apart from the news, Miss Barnes. Should we wait for your brother to join us or does he still have Interpol on his back?"

You chuckle dryly. "Listen here, you-"

"Okay, enough." Steve interrupts, pulling you by the shoulders and giving Wanda a disapproving look. He also whispers that he'll have a talk with her later, but the witch turns away, dragging her feet back into the bedroom while you and Rogers head in the opposite direction.

On the way to the kitchen, you mutter: "And here I thought superheroes were polite."

The soldier chuckles briefly. "You tried to blow up the White House, you can understand the hesitation. Now come on, we've got the rest of the team to shock." 

It had taken her hours to see you again, not that anyone had asked her opinion, but Steve had put you in the room next to hers on the justification that it would be good for the two of you to have someone close in age to pass the time.

Wanda grimaced and reminded him that you were about 150 years old. Steve chuckled.

"Technically, yes. But she spent almost all that time on ice, so she was only really around for less than 20 years. Can you please try to be friendly? You have more in common than you might think."

Wanda begrudgingly agreed to be the one to give you a tour of the tower. And so she could also discover that she was apparently the only Avenger who was hesitant about your presence on the team.

She knew your list of skills off the top of her head, but still wondered if you could read what she was thinking when you added; "Your hesitation is totally fine, Maximoff. It must be hard to share the podium as the team's coolest person, but you get used to it."

She chuckled awkwardly at the compliment mixed with teasing at the end of the tour. You offered her a farewell wink, thanking her for the favor before muttering that you needed a shower after several hours of driving. You disappeared to your own room before Wanda could come to a coherent conclusion as to why her heart was racing inside her chest.

Perhaps she was having a panic attack? 

Wanda turned on her heels and made her way to Bruce's lab. A quick check-up would clarify things.

While assuring her that she didn't have a chronic arrhythmia, Bruce also - under the influence of Natasha and Tony - diagnosed her with something very common to teenage patients: a crush.

"Did you consider Miss Maximoff, that perhaps, you may have just liked her?"

She did not take this very well. 

"What? That's ridiculous! I'm not even gay!" Bruce looked up from the normal results of the cardiology test she had demanded and offered her a small smile.

"All right, Miss Maximoff, maybe I made a mistake. You're probably just anxious about your return to action next week." The doctor suggested and Wanda stood up from the lab chair with an impatient huff.

"That's definitely it." She assured him, not wasting any more time on Bruce and his absurd theories after thanking him for the tests.

After such an unfortunate situation, Wanda began to avoid you. It was the most viable solution when someone caused her to have irregular heartbeats, sweat or tremors. Perhaps she was allergic to you.

Obviously, she should keep her distance.

But it seems that the team had other ideas.

"Barnes and Maximoff, you're together. No gloves, come on." Natasha arrived at the gym announcing, an iPad with the training schedule in hand. Wanda, who had spent a good few weeks with the successful plan of interactions limited to greetings, nearly had a stroke. At least her partner, Sam, was keen enough to hold off his punch before it got to her. Wanda hadn't even heard his comment about her getting distracted in a fight and her feet were moving towards the mat, her eyes quick to notice your breathless figure removing the fighting gloves you had been using on a practice dummy for the last few minutes.

"Let's see if training with Wilson has taught you anything, Maximoff." You commented with a smile that made her stomach jump. Something about your sweaty, panting appearance was making her dizzy. 

The rest of the team spread out on the edges of the mat, interested to see the exercise, and it was only Natasha who came up to you to lead the whole thing.

"Start with the basics, I want to see Wanda's reaction time." The widow explained, squeezing the two of you on the shoulder. Before turning away completely, she raised a finger in warning to the younger brunette. "And no magic tricks, Maximoff. Even if you're losing."

Wanda smiled, rolling her eyes. Only once had she done that to Natasha and it seemed the widow would never let that story die.

Before the whistle blew, you looked her in the eye. "I'll take it easy on you, little witch." You whispered teasingly, and Wanda felt something burn in her lower belly. She also decided that she had to win because she had to get that smirk off her face.

It was an easier task than it looked - and it was all down to the fact that if there was one thing Hydra had taught her well, it was to exploit weaknesses. 

And yours was to care about her. Every hesitation in your movements, your awareness of the super-soldier strength that could hurt her, made it very easy for Wanda to exploit it, slip away, and dodge all your blows. And there was something else too; a soft choke in your breathing every time she got too close, tangled up between one move and the next. The way your ears turned three shades redder when she managed to knock you over and landed on your chest. 

"Wow, Maximoff really is kicking your ass." taunted Sam from the corner of the room, grinning at Barton and Nat.

You didn't seem to mind, licking your lips as you took a second look at the position Wanda now found herself in; sitting on your hips. 

She did, however, give you an annoyed look. "Don't hold back, I can take it." 

"I'm sure you can, little witch." You retorted ironically, leaning yourself fully back onto the mat. 

Wanda grunted angrily, then grabbed the collar of your blouse. "Fight for real! I don't need you to take it easy, I can handle it."

The disarming was so quick that she barely had time to blink - one second she was on your hips, the next her back was pressed to the mat with her hands pinned to the side of her head.

Your body on top of hers, pressing her to the floor, made her choke.

For a moment, as your dilated eyes descend to her mouth, you also seem to forget what you were doing, and the audience around you.

But suddenly, you let go; a dry, humorless laugh escaping you as you stand up. And you turn to Nat as if you hadn't just dropped Wanda on the mat.

After ignoring you for weeks, she thinks she deserves it.

"Her fight is decent, so I think we had enough."

Nat raises an eyebrow, a smile playing on her lips. "Oh, are you the one deciding on the training now, Barnes?"

You smile briefly before retorting; "Come on, everyone knows she's not punching her way out of fights when she can use the energy tricks. It's a waste of time making the girl train like a soldier."

Natasha doesn't seem to agree. She follows you towards the locker room, arguing how important it is to eliminate the team's vulnerabilities, while the rest scatter around the gym, some giving up practicing to get something to eat and others going back to wrestling.

Wanda regrets sitting on the mat because in that position she can watch you at the locker room door, tugging at your training shirt, exposing a strong muscular back and a lot of skin because of the sports top that doesn't do much good to hide it. 

Natasha continues to talk to you without taking any notice of the gesture, so Wanda is sure she's the problem. Her stupid brain and heart are clearly forgetting that she can't handle a crush right now. 

She doesn't even have Pietro anymore, who, as soon as he'd finished tormenting her about it, would give her advice. Because he's always had a natural talent for this kind of thing, while the last time Wanda tried to flirt with a boy, it sounded like a threat. 

She can't do this on her own. And with that conclusion, she tries to get over it. Maybe Google has some tips, or maybe, the walking computer that hangs around the tower can help.

"Vis?" 

The synthesized man took his eyes off the book in his lap when Wanda called out to him, a few days after the training session where, since being pressed into a mat by you, Wanda found herself unable to think of anything else. 

"Hello, Wanda." He greeted her gently, closing the pages and waiting for her to approach.

"I need your help with something."

"Oh, what would that be?"

Wanda pressed her lips together, her hands restless in front of her body. "Would you be able to tell me the most efficient way to... get over someone?" Vision frowned in surprise, and Wanda sighed. "Someone we shouldn't like. Definitely inappropriate."

Vis opens her mouth, still in shock at the whole thing, but it's someone else who speaks;

"What's definitely inappropriate?" Tony asks, and Wanda thanks the gods he didn't hear the first part. 

"N-nothing!" Rebuts the witch quickly, the color of her cheeks probably giving her away. Stark looks at her suspiciously, then at Vis.

"Okay, what are you two love birds talking about?" The Vision would have blushed if he could. He gets visibly embarrassed, smiling shyly.

That's great as if Wanda needed one more extra thing to stress her out. 

She can barely contain her grimace at the nickname, but Tony doesn't bother; Vision is at least quick to change the subject, and surprises Wanda with his ability to lie very well. 

"We were just commenting on how inappropriate General Ross's accusations were at the last meeting." And that's enough to distract Stark.

Wanda practically flees the scene after that. For a long moment, she had even forgotten about the tension that had been swirling around the Avengers over the last few days, precisely because your absence from the compound made her - not that she would admit it - miss you terribly. And all she could think about was inevitably you, busy on missions with Steve in search of your brother James.

With your presence increasingly rare in the Compound, Wanda hoped that the crush would go away, but every time she happened to bump into you between missions, the feelings came back with an overwhelming force, like two lovers the war kept apart. It was frustrating, to say the least. Especially since Wanda was nothing more than a teammate. Hardly a friend.

When Lagos happened, and it was the worst thing that could possibly occur, at least Wanda had something else to think about. And this time, Ross's visit to the Compound was more than inappropriate - it was final.

Accords and fights between the team led to an unbearable situation. With half of her colleagues out for meetings with the United Nations, Wanda was still grounded at the Compound, waiting for news.

She didn't expect you to be sneaking around.

"You shouldn’t be here." That's the first thing she says as she fully opens the bedroom door you left ajar. Wanda could lie about being your fault that she found you, when in fact she had become an expert at sensing your aura over the last few weeks, the ability to just know when you were around, perfecting itself every time you two met.

You chuckle, without diverting your attention from the task of filling your backpack with as many things as you can squeeze inside. Wanda had the impression that many of the items you came to collect in your room were old presents; everything the others had gotten you over the last few holidays. Things that were precious.

"I'm aware. I won't be long." You retort, folding some socks together to put them away in the closet.

Wanda should call Vis - he's working as a sort of watchman for the tower or something. And he was supposed to notify Tony of your presence. But instead, she closes the door.

Twisting her fingers in anxiety, she asks:

"Where are you going to run off to?"

Offering her a quick glance as you returned to your suitcase to put away some underwear that made Wanda look away, you replied; "I can't tell you that, little witch."

Wanda almost smiled at the nickname. Instead, she took a desperate step forward.

"Would you take me with you?"

Standing back, you chuckle. "Funny."

"I wasn't joking."

You leave the St. Petersburg snow globe you got as a present from Natasha on the dresser and turn with a frown to the witch behind you. "Maximoff, come on-"

"I'm serious." She insists. "Stark grounded me. Like a fucking child. “ She then chuckles sadly. “Or worse, a problem he didn't want to deal with. And I know I fucked up in Lagos-"

"Don't say that, Lagos wasn't your fault." You interrupt her with a certain determination. "You need to remember that, alright?"

Wanda smiles softly at your reassurance, looking away because her face is suddenly very warm. You sigh then grab just one more change of clothes before zipping up your suitcase.

"It's not because of the company, Wanda." You mutter suddenly, with the backpack on your shoulders. She looks at you with confusion, but you don't meet her gaze. "I just don't think it's right, everything that's happening. And I don't think we should all be fighting with each other. But that's what's going to happen from now on. If you come with me, Steve probably expects you to be choosing sides. And I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."

Her heart skips a beat, but Wanda takes a chance;

"Anyone... or me?"

You're taken aback, but you don't lose your poise. You sighed deeply before approaching her without haste, without any hint of what you were going to do either. Wanda opens her mouth again, to apologize for being so difficult, but you muffle the statement with a kiss.

It's the first time she's kissed another girl if that isn't obvious. She melts, panting and so very shy; it's a good thing that you hold her waist, while your other hand keeps your face close by grabbing her chin gently. Wanda's lungs scream for air after a moment, but she refuses to pull away from a sensation as good as kissing you.

Something like a whimper of need escapes her when you break the act, or maybe it's the way you give her lower lip a gentle tug with your teeth that leaves her trembling, ready to beg for more.

"Sorry if that was sudden." It's the first thing you say, your voice is hoarse, and as affected as your breathing. You smile, your thumb wiping away some of the mess left by Wanda's gloss. "But I think it took us long enough."

She babbles like a fish, unable to form a coherent thought for a whole moment. You wait patiently, your hands touching her shoulders, sliding down her arms as a way of calming her. Wanda has dreamed so much of feeling you that the touch meant to ease her nerves has quite the opposite effect; every inch of skin you touch tingles.

"H-how... did you know?" she asks, and you give a short laugh.

"I didn't." You retort gently. "Not for sure, at least. Not until two seconds ago when you asked to come with me. I had this... feeling. And this tension. Every time we walked into the same room, every time we were alone. I just felt…” You can put it into words exactly, so you just take a deep breath and smile at her. “I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, that the way I felt was making me imagine things but then you came in here. Sneak out into my room and ask if you could leave this fancy tower to run away with me to fight. I just had to be sure."

Wanda bites back a shy smile, feeling the heat spreading from her chest to her face and eras, and knowing for a fact that it's only going to get worse because of the way you're looking at her.

She tries to get some ground again.

"And are you..." A sigh, as one of your hands settles on her waist. "Sure?"

You hum thoughtfully before breaking the distance, kissing her in a different way than before. It's more intense and hungrier. Your tongue invades her mouth, exploring everywhere and your hands prevent her from pulling away when the oxygen is off. Every needy sound that escapes her is muffled against into lips. 

Wanda tentatively follows the rhythm, one of her hands wrapping in your hair. Your backpack falls to the ground and you hold her tighter now, pulling her into you. It's a significant difference between a super-soldier's body and her own, and just the quick memory of you pressing her against the mat makes her moan into your tongue.

The sound makes you lose your mind - Your hands become more determined, the kiss desperate. Wanda struggles for air, exposing the collarbone that keeps you busy as she tries to catch her breath. You bite down on her skin and she arches against you, her hands becoming bold enough to scratch your back and pull up your blouse.

But you break into a husky chuckle, slowing the kiss and pulling away to remind her; "We have to go." Between one touch and the next, "We don't have time."

She needs a whole moment to force her brain to work, and even after you're no longer touching her, and she's sneaking off to her own room to prepare a suitcase, she's still shaking.

When you meet again, running hand in hand with suitcases back to the garage, Wanda is surprised to realize that she was foolish to be afraid of something as good as this. 

That is, of course, until reality hits again.

Wanda has never seen you in action as a Winter Soldier before. She saw it through television, Shield files, and testimonies about deserters captured by the Avengers.

But she was never there.

The Avengers split up and fought each other, and your brother fled with Steve Rogers. She thought you were safe on the plane with them, she made sure you got on - but she didn't see you climb off.

Wanda accepted being captured, she accepted being drugged as a security measure. And throughout the confusion that was the transportation of the Avengers in custody to the Raft, she thought she was hallucinating the whole way there. The masked figure attacking the soldiers and opening the cells was a projection of the sedative in her mind.

She only knew what had really happened, had been able to remember, when you both were already in another country as fugitives from the United Nations.

You were by her side the whole time. You held her on your lap after getting rid of the straitjacket that had trapped her and lay down next to her when there was finally a secure roof over your heads.

Wanda was exhausted. She had lost the only thing she had left; her freedom. There was no longer a home, a team, a brother. She was drugged and trapped like an animal by people she considered family.

She started crying, and you woke up. You didn't say a word or ask her to stop. You just held her and let her sob into your chest until she fell asleep again, this time from exhaustion rather than through the influence of chemicals.

When what was left of the team moved on the following day, to another location to avoid suspicion as Natasha clarify it, Wanda got the impression that maybe it was you who needed her to hold you until you went to sleep now.

Bucky didn't come back, and neither of you knew what had happened to him or Steve. 

Wanda let you cry all you wanted.

But then finally, everyone who had fought for Steve was back together. Even Clint and Scott, who would probably make deals for their families, to try to be with them, and would have to leave soon. For a moment, everyone was there and you found out that your brother was going to stay in Wakanda to be free again.

It wasn't perfect, but it was a good moment. Steve got food for everyone, you had something that resembled a Christmas, or at least an end-of-year celebration.

We're alive and safe. We're together. Steve was a man of words.

Even if they were sharing a safe house that was too small for such a group. Even if half the world was after them.

The team fell asleep between sleeping bags and sofas, and you left the trailer to get some air. Wanda went after you without thinking much about it.

"It's cold, witchy." You commented as soon as she was close enough, even though you opened your arms for her to wrap hers around you.

Your back was against Nat's truck, and Wanda pressed a little closer to hide her face in your collarbone.

"Where are you going to run off to?" She questions into your skin.

You sigh, one hand caressing her back. "I don't know." You confess quietly. "I wouldn't get to Wakanda with this, but I wasn't feeling very well in there. Having a Christmas meal without him."

Wanda adjusts her face to look at you. "Bucky needs to heal first."

You nod, giving her a sad smile. "I know, but Steve told me they put him back on ice. Until they found out what they were going to do with him. Just the fact that he's there, freezing again... " You look away, sniffling softly. "It reminds me of the past, our time as Winter Soldiers. And It makes me very sad.” You explain softly before sighing. “I know there's nothing we can do to help him now, but it's all so frustrating. I just needed to get out of there for a moment."

Wanda absorbs your words for a moment until she returns to her previous position and smiles as she feels you relax and put your arms around her. 

She murmurs; "It's a shame we can't go out there. Natasha said this place has beautiful spots to visit."

You snort slightly. "Actually, we could drive somewhere further away. Far from the city." You comment. "We can watch the Aurora Borealis."

Wanda bites her lip for a moment, considering your invitation, until she adds; "Just the two of us?"

You chuckle. "Unless you want to wake up the team..."

"No, I wasn't complaining!" She clarifies quickly, and you start laughing again. 

She taps you gently on the shoulder to make you stop. "Idiot."

"Your idiot." You hit back with a smirk, and Wanda's heart stops beating for a moment. There's a pause, between exchanging intense glances as you bring your hands to her face, adjusting her hair out of the way. "Don't forget, witchy."

She swallows dryly, her voice hoarse when she speaks: "I won't." She whispers back and you smile before pressing your lips into hers.

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Found myself thinking about Eddie being insecure because he doesn't see himself as Steve's type, and sees the people who flirt with him and well...

Just picture it with me.

Eddie and Steve have been together for a bit. Maybe like, a few months, but they were technically together before, inseparable in the most annoying gooey way. And things are GOOD. Eddie's never been happier.

The way Steve's been so patient with him. Eddie has no idea how relationships work, let alone the sex stuff. He's totally inexperienced. He's maybe kissed a few people before Steve. But not much else.

And Steve is.. so sweet to him. Always asking if he's okay, if this or that touch is alright. Eddie had literally cum in his fucking pants one night, so fast, embarrassingly fast. But Steve had climbed into his lap and he just... couldn't handle it.

He'd been so fucking embarrassed, but Steve had just held him. Not letting him run to the bathroom like he'd wanted too. He had let Eddie hide his face in his neck though, pressed kisses into Eddie's hair until he calmed down.

And THEN he'd let him get up and clean himself off. But only after he made sure Eddie knew he didn't have to be embarrassed.

Steve didn't tell him then, but it made him feel a little crazy. And he definitely hadn't made a plan to make Eddie do it again, needing to hear that sweet little sound that lodged itself in Eddie's throat as his hands grabbed at Steve. He felt like he could fucking fly for the rest of the night.

But it had been a rough couple weeks for Eddie. He'd walked into family video twice this week to see beautiful girls trailing after Steve, big moony, hopeful eyes, as Steve pointed out a few movie options, looking bored.

And Eddie knew he wasn't interested in these girls, or the odd guy who would come in, maybe flirt a little. Steve never returned any of the advances, just gave them his tight cutomer service smile. A smile Eddie and Robin constantly made fun of him for.

But he'd been talking to Robin about some french movie, he'd actually done pretty well in french, so he let Robin force him to sit through movies that he could vaguely understand.

But he'd glanced at Steve, just the briefest look, and had seen a pretty brunette touching his arm and laughing. And Steve had chuckled, a little, and that's fine. Eddie doesn't care if he has friends, it's not... that's not it. Not the issue.

Because Eddie loves Steve's laugh, it's not even about Steve, because Eddie's focus is never on Steve in the these moments. It's always on the beautiful people talking to Steve. Flirting with Steve.

Eddie's eyes linger on the girl's hair, it looks a bit like his, more curls, falling beautifully down her back. Her eyes are pretty, the slope of her nose is nice, and she's got a good laugh too, bubbly, pretty. Eddie swallows hard, notices Steve's eyes on him over the girls shoulder. Steve waves, smiles, leaves the girl behind as he walks toward Eddie.

His palms are sweating as Steve walks over, smiling. He steps behind the counter next to Robin, leans his elbows on it, toward Eddie, into his space. Eddie sighs, can't help but smile.

"Hey Eds, we still on for movie night?" He asks, tapping his fingers against the movie Eddie had brought to the counter, not paying attention to what it was. They never ended up watching the movie anyway. Eddie nods.

"Yeah of course. I was just, grabbing it." His head feels fuzzy, lost in thought. Steve frowns.

"You okay?" He asks. Eddie shakes his head, pins on the best smile he can manage.

"Yeah. All good. We're doin pizza again too right?" He asks, sliding the movie off the counter and walking backwards to the door. Steve smiles again, believing Eddie's fragile cover.

"Watch out for the-" Robin calls, her hand raised.

"Oof-" Eddie huffs as his back slams into the-

"Door." Robin and Steve say together. Eddie grimaces a small smile and waves, ducking out the door. Robin and Steve laughing as they get back to work.

~°~

They're on the couch, movie forgotten, like always. Steve is sitting in Eddie's lap, hands in his hair, fingers moving against his scalp soothingly as he kisses down Eddie's neck. And Eddie's trying to be into it, wants to be, he is. On one level.

But his thoughts have been racing all day, images of all those beautiful people flirting with Steve. Who is the most fucking beautiful person Eddie's ever goddamn met. And he's sitting in his fucking lap, offering himself to Eddie like he always fucking does.  And Eddie is just, is so... distracted.

His hands are resting on Steve's thighs, his headed tilted, giving Steve access to his neck, but he just, he can't focus. Steve's mouth stops, presses a small kiss to his collar bone, and then he's leaning back, resting his butt on Eddie's knees as he looks down at him.

"You okay Ed's?" Steve asks, his voice soft, his touch even softer as his thumbs rest on Eddie's neck. Eddie blinks up at him, licks his lips, opens his mouth, closes it, and nods, his fingers squeezing Steve's thigh as he leans up, tries to kiss Steve, change the subject.

Steve's hand on his chest presses him back down, into the couch, Eddie makes a little noise, Steve smiles, but his eyes are concerned.

"Hey. What's goin on in that head? You've been so quiet. Like... all day." Steve says, his hands back on Eddie's neck, his eyes soft as he waits for Eddie to answer.

"Isn't that a good thing?" Eddie asks, cringes when his voice sounds... bitter? Steve's eyes widen.

"Whoa. What?" He asks, scooting forward a little, setting on Eddie's thighs instead of perching on his knees, getting more comfortable. Eddie shakes his head, bites his lip. Huffs at himself, because he feels like he's about to fucking cry.

"Hey. Talk to me. What's happening?" Steve asks, his hands moving up, thumbs moving over Eddie's cheeks, keeping him facing Steve.

"Nothin. Everything's fine. I'm just- nothing." He tries to smile, knows it doesn't reach his eyes, and Steve droops, bringing him ever closer.

"Eddie. Your hands haven't moved since I got on top of you. You haven't touched my ass once. Not even when I did that tongue thing you like." Steve says, cautious. Eddie rolls his eyes.

"I don't like it that much." He shakes his head, keeping his eyes OFF Steve, though he's still cradling his face.

"You whimper every time I do it. And you grabbed my ass hard enough to leave bruises. So I've got proof." Steve teases, rubbing his nose along Eddie's. Eddie heart thumps, he did really like it. Fuckin Steve. He huffs, rolls his eyes again and then moves them back to Steve.

"Just tell me what's wrong." He kisses his forhead, rests his head there after.

"Please." He whispers, his hands moving back into Eddie's hair, scratching at his scalp the way he knows Eddie likes, it relaxes him. He sighs, melts into Steve's touch and clears his throat. Because he doesn't wanna say it. It's stupid. He feels stupid.

"It's stupid." He shakes his head. Steve's brow furrows.

"I'm sure it's not." He says. Eddie swallows hard again, the lump in his throat starting to burn.

"Why me?" And he sounds, small, even to himself, can't imagine how he sounds to Steve, so he closes his eyes, lets his head fall back against the couch. Steve is quiet, for a moment.

"What do you mean why you?" He asks, Eddie opens his eyes to see Steve's confused face, his eyes off to the side, looking at the couch, thinking. Eddie sniffles, wipes at his face and tries again, Steve's eyes jump to him, concerned.

"I just- I guess I just- I mean you could have anybody." His voice cracks, he takes his hands off Steve's thighs, rests them on his own stomach instead.

"I just don't understand." Eddie shakes his head. Steve moves his hands, settles them over Eddie's.

"I uh... I guess." Steve says, slowly, uncertain.

"Eddie look at me."

Eddie doesn't. Steve laughs, snorts really, and grabs Eddie's cheeks, gentle with his scars. He moves Eddie's face until Eddie can't not look at him.

"Hi." Steve says, small smile starting to bloom.

"Hi." Eddie huffs, crosses his arms, they bump Steve, jostle him a bit.

"Eddie I don't want anyone else. I want you. You know that right?" Steve asks, his face so close, his eyes so fucking earnest. Eddie nods. Because he does, he does know that. He tries to look away, just moves his eyes as Steve holds his head still.

"I know. I know that. I just-" he takes a shakey breath, fights the sob that's threating to bubble out of his throat.

"I don't know why." Eddie says, and it's a whine when it leaves him, his throat is too tight for it to be anything else.

"All these beautiful people flirt with you, like... all the time. And I know you don't care about that. I know that! But I see them, and the way they look at you, and I just... I don't understand why you picked me. Over that. Over them? I- I'm not..." Steve wipes the tears away from his cheeks but stays silent, lets him keep talking.

"They're all so beautiful. And you're so beautiful. And you just- it's like you don't even see them? And then fucking come here to be with me and I just don't understand why!?" Eddie's voice is loud now, his hands flailing at his sides as Steve keeps his hands on Eddie, they're on his shoulders now. His thumbs soothing against Eddie's collarbones. Eddie's breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, his face his wet, and Steve is fucking looking down at him like he fucking hung the stars.

"Why are you looking at me like that." Eddie's voice squeaks. Steve's smile just gets bigger and bigger.

"What?" Eddie's hands grab at his waist, tickling him enough that Steve's concentration breaks, and he laughs, once, before he grabs at Eddie's shirt and brings them face to face again, so close. His nose moving against Eddie's again before he pulls back a bit.

"I um... I love you." He says, biting his lip, his cheeks going red as he looks down at Eddie. And Eddie's heart thuds in his ears. There's... he wasn't expecting that. Steve's never said that to him before. He's said, lots of things, lots of very nice and sweet and filthy, other things. But never that.

"I- you?" Eddie's brow furrows.

"Yeah." Steve nods, more confident now.

"I love you. And yeah, people flirt with me sometimes, and yeah they're pretty. But they're not you. You're fucking breathtaking to me. And I just... want you. Because I love you." Steve shrugs, like it's the fucking simplest thing in the world.

"You love me?" Eddie asks, his brain feels like it's trying to walk through fucking quicksand. Steve snorts.

"Yes. Idiot." He breathes, lowers himself into Eddie's space, kisses him, sweetly. Pulls back, smiles as Eddie's hands scramble against the back of his sweater.

"That's more like it." Steve breathes, tries to kiss Eddie again, frowns when Eddie moves his hands to his chest and holds him back. Eddie feels like he's gonna cry again, he looks up at Steve, blinks.

"I-"

"You don't have to say it." Steve cuts him off.

"But I want to. I- I do." Eddie sniffles, Steve wipes at his face again, rests his head against Eddie's.

"Well go on then." He teases, holding Eddie's neck, he scoots closer, presses himself harder into Eddie's lap. Eddie sucks in a breath, his fingers clawing at Steve's thighs now.

"C'mon Ed's, tell me." He whispers, one hand moving down Eddie's side, his fingers dipping under Eddie's shirt, he moans at the contact.

"Fuck I love you. So much." Eddie breathes, his hands moving to Steve's ass, fingers digging in, pulling him closer. Steve hums happily, rolls his hips.

"There he is." Steve breathes into Eddie's neck, his lips dragging over Eddie's skin, making him shiver.

"I do though. I love you." Eddie's voice is steady now, certain. Steve leans back again, smiling softly at him.

"I know." He says, eyebrows jumping on his forhead. Eddie gasps, dramatic.

"Oh you fucker." Eddie whispers, fists his hand in Steve's shirt and drags him foward, their noses bumping roughly.

"You love it." Steve whispers against his lips before licking into his mouth, smiling against Eddie's lips as he moans in affirmation.

Eddie's heart pounds in his chest as Steve's hands move up under his shirt, holding him closer, his entire body flushing as Steve touches him, rolls his hips into him with purpose, making Eddie whimper as he holds on, his fingers digging into Steve the way he knows Steve likes, all thoughts of anyone else gone from his mind.

Steve kisses down his neck again, smirks into Eddie's skin as he rolls his hips one more time, pushing Eddie over the egde again, for the second time, smiling into Eddie's shirt as that perfect little noise hits his ears. Eddie clinging to him as Steve shows him he has no fucking need to worry about anyone else. Eddie is it for him.

Always.

Probably forever.

As long as Eddie will have him.

[afewproblems]

Eddie downs the last of his beer and tosses the empty red cup into the kitchen sink, right between a couple who were clearly gearing up to claim one of the spare rooms upstairs. 

Eddie snickers and winks as the girl tells him to fuck off while her boyfriend flips him the bird, god he loves highschool parties, and this one is no exception.

It's Halloween and business is booming for Eddie Munson.

He imagines Dian Fossey felt similarly, wandering through the Congo studying the great apes' behavior patterns and social structure from within rather than observing from afar. 

So far Eddie's observations have paid off in spades and he's managed to sell out most of his stash by targeting the basketball team and their girlfriends. No one wants to get high all by themselves after all, it's almost too easy the way these sheep all flock together. 

Eddie leaves the kitchen behind him, but not before snagging a can of something cold from a nearby cooler of half melted ice. With a decent buzz going, what's one more? He's done working for the night after all. 

Eddie climbs the stairs, dodging drunk teens left and right as they make their way past him, shirts ruffled and hair messy. Eddie snorts, ignoring the wistful pull in his chest as a tall boy on the swim team pulls his girlfriend closer to press a chaste kiss to the top of her head before smoothing her curls away from her forehead. 

Unfortunately no one Eddie would be interested in would accept him brushing their hair like that without punching him in the face.

He shakes his head and continues forward, he's an observer, nothing more. 

Eddie passes a closed door on the second floor and pauses as a raised voice splits through the wood.

"It's bullshit, you're bullshit," the voice slurs out and Eddie feels a wide grin pull at the corner of his mouth. 

He takes a step closer, nearly pressing his ear to the flat of the door.

"Like we're in love?" Another voice says softly, a guy, "you don't love me?" 

A small part of Eddie knows he shouldn't be listening to this, he can hear the waiver in this guy's voice like his heart is slowly cracking in his chest. Shit, he almost feels bad for this guy. 

But the people that go to these stupid parties, the Hawkins elite, the gorillas in the mist, deserve their bullshit --to use this girls turn-of-phrase.

The only reason they didn't mess with Eddie was because he was these highschool shit-heads main source of weed. 

Its karma, plain and simple, Eddie reasons as he presses even closer now.

"It's. Bullshit". The girl hisses emphatically and for a second Eddie hears nothing.

It happens so quickly after that. 

The door swings inward, causing Eddie to stumble into a tall firm chest as the bathroom guy collides with him.

"What the fuck?" The guy says as he pushes Eddie away from himself and --no way.

"Harrington?"

Steve blinks once, his wide hazel eyes red rimmed and shiny in the dim light of the hallway, the tip of his nose is pink as he reaches up to pinch it roughly before swiping across his eyes as well.

Even though Eddie's fairly certain that he and Steve are the same height, he seems smaller like this, deflated, standing in the hallway while a party rages down below them both. 

A cheer rings out, startling Steve into action.

He steps widely around Eddie, enough that his shoulder connects with the wall in his haste to take the stairs down, two at a time, as though Hell is hot on his heels. 

And Eddie should leave it, go back to the party, see if there are any snacks left before calling it a night, but something pushes him to follow the path Steve took.

It's like he's possessed, the haunted look in those hazel eyes forcing him forward until he's outside on the lawn.

A few other teens are outside, including a couple making out on the porch, Eddie steps over them and jogs to the end of the driveway.

He spots Steve down the street sitting on a large rock at the end of another neighbor's lawn with his face in his hands.

He looks up as Eddie gets closer and curses softly.

"Seriously? It wasn't enough that you were listening, you're following me now?" His voice cracks on the last word as he wipes his eyes again, he can't quite hide the way the moonlight catches the tear tracks running down his cheek and neck though.  

"Oh come on Harrington," Eddie says, walking up to Steve. He sits on one of the other rocks and takes a crumpled pack of smokes out of his vest pocket, "it's no fun if you're sad".

"What is?" Steve mumbles after a beat, wiping his eyes again as he stares at the ground. 

"Making fun of you," Eddie shrugs as he takes a cigarette and puts it between his lips, he smiles at the startled bark of laughter from Steve.

"You're a prick," he huffs softly, the barest of smiles slowly blooming across his face.

Eddie can count the constellation of freckles and moles across his face, giving the blanket of stars above them a run for their money. His hand twitches at the thought of touching the ones on Steve's throat.

Eddie coughs once, mentally tallying the number of drinks he must have had for those kinds of  thoughts and shifts on the rock to adjust his pants. 

He holds out the pack to Steve who looks at the nearly empty sleeve before his eyes shift to the house behind Eddie. 

"Nance hated cigarettes," Steve murmurs as the corner of his mouth twitches into a terrible frown. It's gone in an instant as Steve blinks once and reaches out for the pack.

"I got something stronger if you want?" Eddie offers, he shrugs when Steve looks up at him with suspicious eyes. 

"Come on Harrington, I'm not gonna keep kicking you when you're down, you need a pick-me-up and then I can get back into it," Eddie stands up and without thinking, holds out a hand towards Steve, "what do you say?"

Steve stares up at him, his eyes flick once to the outstretched hand before he snorts dryly and slowly takes his hand. 

It's warm in Eddie's own. The fingers squeeze gently as Steve uses it to hoist himself up until he's once again eye level with Eddie. 

From this close Eddie can see the way his eyelashes have clumped together with leftover tears and the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes

Oh…this, this was a bad idea. Eddie swallows roughly as Steve finally nods.

"Lead the way Munson," Steve says with the barest of smirks as he wipes his face one last time, "and if you tell anyone about this, I'll slash your tires".

Eddie cackles at that, "there he is!"

He claps Steve on the back as he leads them towards where he parked his van down the road, "our chariot awaits!"

Eddie ignores the small voice that whispers in his ear, the one that sounds remarkably like his uncle, as it asks him just what the hell he thinks he's doing with Harrington of all people? 

It'll be fine, he tells himself.

Besides, what's the worst that could happen?

Part Two

[appocalipse]

Congrats! How huge! Can I shop?! 🛍️

There's an antique lock and key set and a pair of velvet gloves that look like they have my name written all over them (or a smutty friends to lovers with Steve Harrington where maybe we're partners in a game - drinking game at a rager, yard game at a bbq, board game on a game night, chicken at the pool party...I'm not picky - and celebrating our winning streak gets...a little out of hand 😉😉)

thank you, angel ♥ i got more than a little carried away with this one lol 6.4k words | cw: fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex 18+ only! mdni! literally the smuttiest smut that ever smutted

amy's flea market ♥

"Ready?" Steve asks.

No. Fuck, no.

“Yeah,” you respond. Steve smiles that almost evil smile of his and dives down so you can climb onto his shoulders. Again. You can't believe you're doing this again.

It's the third round of chicken fighting that you and Steve are participating in, and as you climb onto Steve's shoulders, you try not to think that you're climbing onto Steve's shoulders.

Steve. Your friend Steve. The guy you have the world's biggest crush on...no, fuck that. It's more. You know it's more, but you're afraid to admit the stronger word.

Because Steve is Steve. He's off limits.

Which doesn't make it any easier for you to try not to think about the way his big, warm hands are now on your thighs, holding on tight so you don't fall off his shoulders, where you're sitting in nothing but a bikini, his head between your legs...

"1, 2,3...go!" Robin yells, sitting on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water. You raise your arms as the team in front of you advances, the girl's arms stretched in hopes of pushing you off Steve.

But you and Steve are, apparently, invincible today.

It happens faster this time; next thing you know, the girl's grip slips, and you are the one who ends up pushing her into the water, her partner also losing his balance in the process. They laugh and the crowd — including Robin — goes wild. The adrenaline surges through your veins as you realize you've won. Again. Steve keeps you up there for one more moment, just so you can throw your arms in the air, giggling, enjoying your third victory in a row. Then, he carefully lowers you down into the water. 

When he emerges again, wet hair sticking to his forehead, he's grinning at you as he grabs your wrist, making you raise your arm one more for the crowd.

You giggle.

Steve sighs. It's that laugh of yours, the one that makes his heart skip a beat every time. 

"I think that's enough for today," you say, lowering your arm and grinning up at him, a bit dizzy from the adrenaline of the victory and the heat of the sun on your skin. 

Steve suddenly feels dizzy too, for a completely different reason.

He unsuspectingly watches as a fat drop of water travels down your lower lip, to your chin, your neck... and then you turn around, moving in the direction of the pool ladder. Against his better judgment, he follows.

Once out of the pool, you look around. 

"D'you want me to grab a clean towel for you?" Steve offers, ever the gentleman.

"Towel, yeah, that would be great..." you murmur, feeling ten times more self-conscious now that the two of you are out of the water. You don't even know most of the people here… "Can I come with you?"

Steve coughs.

The pool party had started earlier that day. The only clean towels remaining in that house now are in his bathroom. 

In his room.

And you're all wet.

For God's sake. That's the last place where he should be alone with you right now. 

But, like an idiot, Steve nods, "Sure, let's go." 

He leads you through the living room, past a group of people who are sitting on the floor, drinking and laughing, to the stairs, taking them two at a time. You're a little out of breath, but manage to keep up with his long strides until he reaches the top. The hallway up here is a lot dimmer, but you can still see the soft, warm sunlight coming from beneath his bedroom door. It's strange how you've never been in his room before. Countless times in his house, sure, but never his room.

Steve clears his throat and then opens the door, stepping aside to let you enter first. 

It's... not what you expected. It's not messy like the stereotypical rich boy's room, but it's not pristine either. It's neat, orderly, but... lived in. There's a king-sized bed in the center of the room, covered with a duvet that looks like it's been slept in. A small nightstand on each side of the bed, with a lamp and a few framed photos on top — you're even in some of them with him and the kids. The walls are painted a soft, warm blue, and there's a big window next to the bed, letting in the bright sunlight.

The air smells like... like him. Like soap and hairspray.

Steve clears his throat, drawing your attention back to him. He's still shirtless, so it's not like that's hard to do. "Here, take this," he says, tossing a towel in your direction. You catch it reflexively, feeling the softness of the fabric against your bare skin.

"Thanks," you murmur, rubbing your hair with it. 

The sound of laughter from downstairs seeps in through the partly open window. Steve is standing on the other side of the room, a towel loosely draped around his neck, and maybe it's that mysterious drink Robin offered you earlier making you imagine things, but there's a strange tension in the air and you're under the distinct impression that Steve is consciously avoiding you as you dry off.

You wonder what he's thinking. 

Steve clears his throat again, seeming to steel himself for something. "Um... I'm gonna go grab a drink. You... you want one?" he asks, not quite meeting your eye.

"Sure. And...can you get my dress? I left it downstairs earlier."

Steve nods, turning away from you so fast you almost wonder if he's mad. He disappears into the hallway, and you hear the click of the door being closed behind him, followed by the distant sound of footsteps as he makes his way downstairs.

Left alone in his room, you wander over to the bed and sit down on the edge, now wrapped in your towel. The duvet is soft against your bare skin, and the pillows smell like him. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to curl up here with him, to feel his warmth surround you as you drift off to sleep.

Probably not the kind of thought you should have in your friend's room.

The door opens again, and Steve steps back in, two glasses of something clear and fizzy in his hand. "Here you go," he says, handing you one of them. You take the drink gratefully, sniffing at it before taking a sip. It's some kind of spritzer, sweet and tangy. "And here's your dress."

It's draped over the curve of his arm. Steve sets his own drink on the nightstand before sitting down on the bed beside you, extending his arm so you could take the dress.

You do take it, but make no move to put it on. "I didn't know you were that good at chicken fighting," you say, trying to make it sound light-hearted.

Steve smiles. "Pretty sure it was all you."

"Of course not," you playfully nudge him. "We're a team."

He looks at you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he reaches for his drink and takes a generous sip. "Yeah, a team," he repeats softly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

He studies you for a moment, taking another sip of his drink. The silence stretches between you. You wish you knew what was going through his mind, if he was feeling the same things you were.

"It is something," you quietly insist.

Steve looks at you, his eyes flickering uncertainly. "I don't know what you mean," he says finally, but there's a catch in his voice that betrays him, a hint of vulnerability that you've never heard before.

You stand up. He looks at you like you had just slapped him. 

"I'm still wet," you explain. Then, way too quickly for your embarrassment to go unnoticed, you add, "from the pool, I mean! Not...I don't want to make a mess of your bed or anything, you know...I mean, by sitting there while I'm wearing a wet bikini and-"

Steve cuts you off with a laugh. "Hey, hey," he says, reaching out to take your hand. "It's okay. You're fine. You can sit here." He squeezes your hand gently, and there's a warmth in his touch that sends a shiver through you. "And if you did make a mess, I'd clean it up. No worries."

You sit down again. Better than awkwardly standing there. 

"Very gentlemanly of you," you murmur, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Steve shrugs, returning your smile. "I'm not that bad, am I?" he asks, his voice teasing.

"The worst. But you're a good partner in chicken fighting, though."

Steve swallows hard.

"Just that?"

There is a moment of silence, as you and Steve stare at each other. You know exactly what he means, what's behind that question, behind the look he's giving you right now, studying your face like it's the first time he's seeing it. At least...you think you know. 

He puts his glass aside again. You open your mouth to say something, but he's faster.

"I need to go."

"Wait-"

He doesn't wait. Steve is on his feet in a second, almost at the door in two. 

But you, somehow supernaturally faster…you grab his wrist. You grab his wrist with both hands and oh God, Steve's not quite sure what to do with you now. He doesn't respond, doesn't move. You tug at his arm, wanting him to turn around, look at you. He doesn't.

"Steve."

His name feels like a whisper on your lips. It's not loud, but it's urgent. 

Steve is having a hard time remembering why he's supposed to keep his distance from you. He turns around to look at you, your hand slipping down to his, still not letting him go…and he realizes it was a bad idea.

The desperation in your eyes mirrors his own, and before he knows what he's doing, Steve is leaning in, hands grabbing your face, mouth finding yours, lips parting. 

He's not gentle, not soft. 

You moan into the kiss and Steve kicks the door closed without looking, his hands finding your waist as you cling to his neck, the towel falling at your feet. Your lips part and he slips inside, tasting you, feeling the warmth of your breath on his skin as you gasp, stumbling back as he pushes forward.

The bed is soft but cold beneath you as you land, Steve on top of you, pinning you down."God," he groans into your neck. "Sorry."

You giggle. "God, sorry?"

He groans in reply, lips moving against your neck as he continues to kiss his way down your collarbone. "I mean it," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire. "I shouldn't be doing this."

"M' not...complaining."

Steve laughs roughly into your skin, pressing his lips to the dip between your breasts and finally looking up into your eyes. He pauses for a moment, searching for something there. You can see the uncertainty in his expression, the fear of losing control, of what will happen if he really lets go.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you say automatically.

He chuckles at your answer, a soft, low sound that vibrates through your chest. "You're sure?" he whispers, leaning in to kiss you again, this time softer, slower. "Because I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to take advantage of you."

"How could you possibly take advantage of me?" you ask, sounding almost annoyed.

Steve smiles. "I don't know. I just..." He trails off, pressing a quick kiss to your chin. "I just want this to be right."

You can feel his hesitation, his worry, but you don't want to push him away. You reach up, gently cupping his cheek, and look into his eyes. "I want to."

"You want to?"

"Yes."

There's a moment where the weight of what you've just said seems to press down on Steve, making him pause. He looks into your eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or fear, but finds only the truth. He exhales shakily, looking like it takes every ounce of his self-control to do so. "Tell me you're not drunk."

You reach up, tracing his jawline with your fingers. "I'm not drunk."

"Fuck..." he mutters, trying to concentrate as you trail your fingers down his neck, over his collarbone. "Really? Don't lie to me."

You smile, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm not drunk," you repeat. "I had like…two drinks. Are you drunk?"

Steve laughs, a choked-up sound. "I've had more than that," he admits. "But I'm…I'm okay." He looks at you for a long moment, like he's trying to commit your face to memory, just in case. Then he leans in, kissing you softly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that belies his earlier urgency. "But even if I were drunk, you're welcome to take advantage of me anytime."

You smile against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'll keep that in mind," you whisper, feeling a rush of affection for him. Steve groans into the kiss, pressing your back against the mattress as his hips move between your legs. His skin feels hot against yours, his muscles tense, and with nothing but the thin fabric of your bikini bottom and his swim trunks between you, there's little left for the imagination.

"Steve," you breathe out as he kisses his way down your neck, nipping at your skin with his teeth. His name feels heavy in your mouth, like you've been holding it there for years and it's finally been given the chance to be spoken. "Steve…"

"You keep saying my name like that and I'm going to lose it."

You feel the wet heat of his mouth as he kisses his way back down your neck, over your collarbone. His fingers are patient, too patient as they trail up your sides, over your ribs, stopping just shy of your breasts like he's afraid he'll go too far, too fast, too soon.

"Can I-"

"Yes."

His laughter is soft as he pulls back to look at you, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly parted. He brushes a strand of wet hair away from your face, tracing the line of your jaw with his thumb. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"What were you going to say?"

He smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Something about wanting you. About how I can't believe I'm finally here with you." His fingers drift lower, tracing the curve of your neck before one hooks playfully under the delicate string of your bikini top. "I was going to ask if I could touch you."

You nod, feeling the anticipation building inside you. "Yes," you breathe, arching into his touch. "Please."

His smile is slow, almost wicked. He lets go of the string and instead cups your breast, thumb tracing the hardening peak of your nipple through the thin fabric of your top. Your back arches further, and a soft moan escapes your lips as his fingers find purchase and squeeze. He pulls back slightly, watching as you close your eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "Is this okay?" he whispers, tracing a circle around your nipple with his finger.

"Yes," you manage to choke out.

Steve hums in understanding, his touch growing more confident as he cups your breast in his hand, squeezing gently before circling your nipple with his thumb. The sensation is almost too much, making your hips twitch against his as you arch further into the touch. 

He wonders for a moment if he should take it further, if he should untie the knot and push the bikini top down, revealing your breasts to his touch...would you be okay with that? Or should he keep going, teasing you until you beg? His eyes flicker down to your lips, watching as they part slightly with each shallow breath, how your tongue darts out to wet them. 

You're so beautiful, he thinks, almost dizzy from the sight of you.

He can feel the warmth between his legs, the insistent pressure as his cock strains against the fabric of his trunks. You'll be the death of him, he's certain. He's already so fucking hard and you're not even naked yet.

He leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Can I?" 

He kisses your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder. And then his fingers slide lower, tracing the line of your stomach, pausing at your navel… 

"Can I touch you here?"

The feel of his fingers tracing the line of your stomach, so close to where you ache for him to touch, is almost too much to bear. You chuckle as you arch your back, offering him more of your skin, more of yourself, then grabbing his wrist when he doesn't seem convinced, guiding his hand lower. 

"Please," grinning, you run your fingers through his hair with your free hand, feeling the dampness there as it clings to the strands, "stop asking."

He smiles against your skin, his fingers finding the soft, warm skin of your inner thigh, tracing up and down, so close to where you're aching for him. "You're sure?" he whispers, his voice low and teasing. "You're sure you want this?"

"Steve Harrington, you-"

But you can't even finish the sentence before he's kissing you, his mouth warm and wet and demanding as his fingers finally slip between your legs, sliding beneath the thin scrap of fabric and you gasp into his mouth, arching into his touch, forgetting whatever insult you were going to say.

You feel the rough pad of his index finger against your clit, and then he's pressing, circling, teasing.

"Fuck."

"You're so wet," he breathes, watching your face. "So fucking wet for me, honey, God," His fingers move faster, his touch more demanding as he presses deeper, finding your entrance and circling, circling, wanting to push inside. 

You grip the back of his head, your other hand clutching at the duvet beneath you, your hips arching off the bed as his fingers move in a blissful, insistent rhythm. It's been so long since anyone has touched you like this, since you've felt this kind of need and desire, but this…this is even better than you could have imagined. This is Steve, your Steve.

"I want you inside me," you pant before you can think twice about it, your words breathless and urgent. "Please."

Steve hums, his fingers still working their magic as he leans forward, kissing your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. "I want that too," he whispers, and then he's pushing the bikini bottoms aside, throwing them across the room, revealing your wet, aching folds to his gaze, moving to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down your stomach, over your hip, and finally to the juncture of your thighs. 

Shit. He parts your legs with his shoulders, bending his knees to kneel between them. "Let me make you come first."

With...his mouth?

You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at his face, more than a little self-conscious now. "Wait, but you...you're gonna...?"

He wraps his arms around your hips, holding you still as he leans in, his breath warm against your exposed skin. Curiously, he asks, "You don't want me to?"

You shake your head; no, of course you do. But the idea of him going down on you...it's so intimate. So much more than just having sex. "I just..."

He looks up at you, and there's something in his eyes that makes you forget whatever you were about to say. Something that makes you feel safe and wanted and desired. "You just...?" he whispers, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh.

It's hard to concentrate when he does that. You squirm a little, but his hold on you is surprisingly firm.

"I just..." You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "I just haven't had anyone do that for me in a really long time." It's true; the last time you can remember was with a boyfriend years ago, and even then it was more of a "be polite" thing than anything else. But with Steve...it feels different. "Do you *really* want to? Because you don't have to if-"

You feel him smile against your skin as he continues to gently kiss his way up your thigh. "I want to," he whispers, and the way he says it, the sincerity in his voice, makes you believe him. "I really want to. But, um…only if you want it too."

You open your eyes, watching as he looks up at you, waiting for your answer. He looks so hopeful, so eager. If he wants this, if he wants to make you feel this good...how can you say no?

With a shaky breath, you nod, your fingers threading through his hair. "Okay," you whisper. "Okay."

Steve hums in satisfaction. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he slowly pulls your legs wider apart, resting his elbows on the bed as he leans in closer, his hot breath fanning across your folds. His hands grip your hips, holding you steady as he gazes up at you, watching your reaction, almost daring you to tell him to stop. 

You watch, mesmerized, as he tilts his head, licking his lips before he leans in, pressing a gentle, open-mouthed kiss to the very center of you. 

Boy... does he know what he's doing.

Your eyes flutter shut as he begins to lick and suck, his tongue dancing over your most sensitive skin, his fingers curling into the flesh of your hips, urging you to arch into his touch. You gasp, feeling your whole body tense, your hands tangled in his hair, your nails almost digging into his scalp. He moans, his breath hot against you, and you realize he's watching your reactions, taking cues from your body. 

"Good?" he asks, as if you're not already on the verge of coming. 

But you can't answer, can't form a coherent thought, let alone a word. So you nod.  Frantically so, head thumping against the mattress. He smiles against your skin like he's won some sort of prize, and then you feel the slip of his fingers, two of them easily sliding inside you, tight but wet enough to be ready. You cry out, his name a desperate plea falling off your lips as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them up to find just the right spot. 

"Oh, God..." you moan, your hips bucking up against his hand. "Steve..." Your fingernails dig into the duvet, your back arching as he expertly works his fingers inside you.

Steve seems to sense that you're getting close, the way your hips are moving erratically against his hand, the way your breath is coming in short, ragged gasps. He looks up at you for a moment as if to gauge your reaction, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He keeps his fingers exactly where they are while he leans up over your body to kiss you, propping himself up on one elbow.

"You taste so good," his voice is a whisper against your lips as they part beneath his. "So wet. God, I want to feel you around me." 

"Yes, please."

Your enthusiasm makes Steve grin against your lips. "Please?" he muses. He's hard, of course he is hard in his swim trunks, cock straining against the fabric as it leans against your thigh. But he doesn't want to rush this. Not with you.

"Steve," you admonish, sliding your hands up his arms.

His fingers are still moving, but more slowly now, less urgent. It's almost as if he's teasing you, drawing this out. Your hips rock up against his hand, and you feel a surge of wetness between your legs as you arch your back, seeking more contact. His lips find yours again, tongue sliding against yours as he thrusts his fingers deeper, curling them to hit just the right spot. You moan into the kiss, your body trembling as the pleasure builds, your fingers tangled in his hair.

"Oh God," you say in a shaky voice. "Steve, please..."

He groans against your lips, curling his fingers deeper inside you, searching. "Please what?" he whispers as he kisses along your jaw, teasing, not mean, never mean, but drawing it out just a little bit more.

In lieu of an answer, you find yourself arching your back in a desperate manner. His fingers brush against something deep inside you, something that has you gasping and tightening around him, close too close. His fingers find the rhythm you've been craving, your orgasm building, building, building.

"That's it," he whispers against your neck, his own breath hot and uneven. "That's it, baby."

And you do. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, a rush of pleasure so intense it makes your vision blur, your skin warm all over. 

Steve, watching your expression as you come apart beneath his touch, feels the warmth of your release coat his fingers, the tightness of your body around them. God. It's a heady sensation, knowing that he can make you feel this way.

His fingers are slick with your wetness as he pulls them free and gently pushes you back onto the bed. You're lying flat on your back again, and he's grinning as he looks down at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"You're...very good at this," your voice is a breathy whisper as you glance up at him, a flush rising in your cheeks. You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him down for a gentle kiss. Steve's skin is warm beneath your fingertips, his kiss featherlight soft against your lips. "Do you want-"

"Yes," he cuts you off with a husky laugh, leaning down to nip at your neck. "If you do," His hand finds the string of your bikini top, finger following along it all the way up to the bow. With a practiced flick, he undoes it but doesn't yet pull the fabric away, watching your eyes as he lets the knot slide free, half expecting you to tell him to stop. You don't, though. You watch him, your chest rising and falling with every breath, and something in his chest aches at the sight.

"You can take it off," you reassure, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "It's just me." 

You hope that comes across as playful and confident, but maybe you don't seem so convincing when you're still a little breathless, a little sensitive, so you decide to take matters into your own hands and reach up, fingers shaking only a little, to pull the cups of your bikini top down and away from your chest. 

Steve watches you, his expression somewhere between adoration and awe as you reveal yourself to him like a fucking gift unwrapped. 

"You're unreal," he breathes. "You're so..."

When he reaches out to touch, just the very tips of his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh, you try to encourage him by arching into the contact.

"So fucking beautiful," he whispers, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. "I can't get enough of you." 

His hands slide down your sides, over the smooth skin of your hips, and then lower still, cupping your ass. He pulls you closer, pressing your body against his, slowly grinding against you. "Do you want..." he tries, an urgent edge creeping into his voice. "Do you want me inside you?"

Steve looks like he's about to explode at the mere suggestion, his expression a mixture of raw desire and aching need. You're about to reply when he nips at your neck, his teeth grazing the skin there. You momentarily lose your words.

"You're killing me," he half groans, half laughs, his hips moving harder against yours as he pushes himself as close to you as he possibly can. You can feel him through the thin fabric of his swim trunks, hard and insistent, and you're sure it wouldn't take much more of this teasing before he loses control completely. "Just say the word," he whispers, kissing along the line of your jaw, "and I'll give you anything you want."

"Can I...can I touch you?"

You feel Steve stiffen at your request at first, his body tensing beneath your fingers. "Of course you can," he breathes, a shudder working its way through him. "You can do whatever you want, baby."

You reach down, fingers shaky in your eagerness to please. You grasp the hem of his trunk and tug gently, almost hesitant, but he's already cooperating, kicking them off and letting them fall to the floor without so much as a second thought.

"Oh,"  you breathe, eyes widening as you take in the sight of him, naked and perfect in front of you. Steve's cock is already hard, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip, and you can't help but reach out and touch it, tentatively at first, but then more confidently, wrapping your fingers around the base of him and waiting to gauge his reaction.

"Oh, fuck," he moans, closing his eyes as you stroke him. "That feels...that's so good."

Your fingers feel warm and soft around him, and with each gentle stroke, he feels himself growing harder and harder, unable to contain the pleasure building inside of him. He opens his eyes to look down at you, watching your expression as you touch him, your focus solely on the way your fingers slide up and down his length.

Before you can get too carried away, though, Steve's hands are grabbing yours, guiding them away from his cock rather urgently. "If you want me inside you," he pants, a strained smile tugging at his lips, "you're going to have to stop that." His voice is a little shaky, a little rough, and you can tell he's struggling to keep himself in check.

You grin up at him. "I...do want that."

Steve's answering smile is a little more confident now, and he leans forward, brushing the pad of his index finger across your lips, tracing the shape of your bottom lip as he does so. "I think you've had enough teasing today," he whispers, hand moving to cup your neck, his thumb rubbing gently over your pulse point. "You really want this?"

"Yes," you breathe, unable to keep the word from slipping past your lips. "Yeah, I do."

Steve's thumb continues to trace circles around your pulse point as he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. His kiss starts gentle, a mere brush of his mouth against yours, "Yeah? Can I?" sliding his hand down your stomach, between your legs, he adds, "Fuck, yeah, you're...you're wet enough."

You gasp into his kiss as he brushes his fingers against you. "Yeah," you moan, arching your hips up into his touch, with a grin, "Yeah, I am, I...you're gonna make me beg or something, huh?"

"I'd never make you beg for anything, sweetheart."

His fingers move in a slow circle, spreading your wetness around your entrance, making sure you're as ready for him as you can be.

You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pull him closer as he begins to shift between your legs, his hand coming back up to gently guide himself towards your entrance, and then he looks down at you, searching your eyes for some sign, some reassurance, before he's pushing inside, slowly, gently, taking his time to ease his way into you. 

You gasp at the feeling of being stretched, filled, but at the same time it's perfect, it's...right.

He leans forward, bracing himself on his arms, and watches as you arch your back, your lips parted in a silent moan. "More?" he whispers, his voice a rough rasp. "Should I...?"

"More," you breathe, meeting his eyes.

And Steve gives it to you. He slides deeper, pushing in farther, stretching you just enough to make you feel so full of him. You're tight and he's impatient, but he makes sure he doesn't rush, doesn't force it. You feel the muscles in his back and arms tensing as he fights against the urge to go harder, how much he wants to lose control and just fuck you into the mattress.

He takes you like he's been dreaming of it for years, like he's never going to get the chance to feel you like this again. Slowly.

"Steve," his name rolls off your tongue like a sigh the moment he's all the way inside you, your muscles clenching around him in an attempt to hold him close. 

He tries to remember how to breathe, pressing his lips to your shoulder. He feels you squeeze around him and muffles a sound between a moan and a growl against your skin, "Can I move?"

"Yes, I...yes."

He pulls back slightly, just enough to adjust his angle, and then pushes back inside you. The sensation is almost too much, the way your body seems to fit so perfectly around him, the way your muscles clench and release, drawing him deeper still. Fuck. You're so wet that he can feel himself sliding easily in and out of you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his is a perfect counterpoint to the gasping, keening noises you're making into his shoulder.

He knows he won't last half as much as he'd like if you keep that up.

"God, that's it," he growls, the words lost in the movement of his hips against yours. "Tell me how it feels, sweetheart." One of his hands slides down between your bodies, cupping your aching clit, rubbing in a tight circle as he thrusts into you. The sensation is overwhelming, too much and not nearly enough all at once.

Your legs twist, one hooking behind his back for leverage, and you arch into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders as you feel the tension building, the familiar tightness coiling in your core. "So good," you moan, thrusting your hips up to meet his, wanting more of that friction, more of his skin against yours. "Can you go...faster, please?"

He's lost to the sensation of your body moving against his, the feel of you slick and hot and tight. He's close, so close, but he doesn't want this to be over yet. He pulls back slightly, only to slam back in harder, the head of his cock hitting the spot inside you that makes you arch your back and gasp.

His hand moves faster on your clit, circling and pressing, and you're so close now, so close, you can feel it building, making you shiver and writhe underneath him. Steve leans down, lips finding the skin of your neck, sucking and nipping as he thrusts harder, deeper, faster.

"Yes," you moan, arching into his touch, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Fuck, yes."

Steve lets his hand move from between your legs to the back of your knee, hooking it there, holding you open to him as his cock slides in and out of you with a harsh, wet sound. You feel so full of him, stretched and sore and aching in the best way possible. 

He's so close now, the tension in his body almost painful as he fights against the urge to come before you do. Steve watches your face as you writhe beneath him, lips parted and flushed, eyes glazed over in pleasure  like you can't quite focus. It's the most erotic thing he's ever seen. He doesn't want this to end. Being inside you like this, feeling the way you move against him...he doesn't think he'll ever get enough.

Your nails scrape down his back, leaving little red lines in their wake. Steve thinks he's going to lose it every time you do that.

"Fuck," he groans, the word caught in his throat as he thrusts harder into you. The sounds of your skin slapping against his makes it almost unbearable and he has to think of something else, anything else, to keep from coming. "Feels good, sweetheart?" he whispers, his hand moving between your legs again, this time finding your clit and rubbing in a steady, circular motion.

You arch into his touch, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. "So close," you moan, your voice shaking. "I...I..."

Steve feels the tension building inside you, knows that you're close. He watches your face, the way your eyes have almost rolled back in your head, the way your lips are parted and your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. 

He leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing as pushes inside to the hilt, holding you there, feeling your body trembling beneath him. You cry out then, your back arching off the bed, and Steve feels you tighten and pulse around him, gripping him like a fist as you come. 

The sensation is almost too much, but he somehow manages to ask, "Can I come inside you?"

You nod, your eyes closed tightly, and he thrusts once, twice…then one last time, feeling himself spill inside you as he moans, body tensing and then relaxing, spent. 

Steve collapses on top of you without pulling out, sweaty bodies sticking together. He somehow finds the energy to kiss your shoulder, your neck, your ear, nibbling and sucking until you laugh, shifting beneath him.

"You're heavy," you tease, but you don't really mind. It feels right to have him pressed against you like this, his heart thumping against yours, his breath warm on your skin.

He chuckles, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck. "Sorry," he mumbles, before pulling himself up enough to look down at you. You're beautiful, even with your hair tangled and your lips swollen from his kisses. "Do you want to get cleaned up?" he asks, running a hand through his sweaty hair.

"I think I love you."

The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and for a moment, you're not sure if you should take them back. But then Steve's eyes widen, his lips part in surprise, and you know it's too late. You've said it.

"Sorry, I shouldn't...I mean, I-"

Steve cups your face in his hands, his eyes wide and serious. "I love you too," he says, his voice a little unsteady. "I have for a long time." 

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently, then more firmly, as if he's making sure this is real, that you feel it too. 

But you feel it too.

God, you feel it too.

[buckets-and-trees]

Desperate [Bucky x Reader]

Fandom: MCU Title: Desperate Characters/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!Reader Word Count: 3k 

Summary: Enemies? Rivals? It's always been reluctant teamwork between you and the Winter Soldier, but when put in a situation where personal feelings have to be put aside, maybe actual personal feelings are uncovered.

Content Warnings: kidnapping, sex pollen ergo DUBIOUS CONSENT, sexual situations (named acts, non-explicit depictions of vaginal sex), medical elements (needles, IVs, experience of medical distress)

Thank You Notes: BIGGEST SHOUT OUTS to @sgt-seabass who beta loved this into what it is and @vonalyn who helped supply me with some of the vital energy I needed. This was SUPPOSED to be an answer to this little sleepover ask @povlvr had graced me with... but then it became this! Logistical Notes: Filling my eleventh square for Bucky Barnes Bingo @buckybarnesbingo - Y2 "Reluctant Teamwork" and @buckybarnesevents Hot Bucky Summer Week 9 which is technically a "FREE WEEK" but had sex pollen listed as one of the suggested things to play with, so... that's why we're here now.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You were an old SHIELD contact that Steve knew before Project Insight. He didn't know you well then, but you had crossed paths a few times. You were an analyst sometimes assigned to Steve's missions. You went to work for the CIA after the Triskellion takedown, where you stayed for a couple of years, before eventually moving into the private sector.

When Steve, Nat, Sam, and Wanda were outlaws on the run, they bumped into you again, and you became an ally and valuable contact in your new area of the country - and ultimately a friend. And trusted enough that you knew about Bucky - and Bucky heard about you.

Bucky didn't love that you were an element in Steve's life. He hadn't met you, hadn't been able to get his own read on you. 

He'd been wary initially about Nat, Sam, and Wanda, but he'd been able to meet them and build his own trust - and they'd all ultimately put their lives and reputations on the line for him. 

It wasn't that he was distrustful of everyone anymore and needed people to put their lives on the line to prove themselves. Those who had sided with Steve over Tony in the Zemo affair aside, he'd also learned to trust others again in Wakanda with so many of the royal family and the royal guard building relationships with him. 

But with you he didn’t know you, and so he didn't like it.

What Bucky loathed even more? 

You didn't blip out. For five years, you were there for Steve when he couldn't be. You were apparently there so much that when Steve left, he fucking said to watch out for you. The punk.

Bucky didn’t know Steve dropped in on you, too, and asked you to keep an eye out for Bucky the day he gave Sam the shield. You promised you would.

You reached out. Not immediately, but in the weeks after.

Bucky was... less than kind.

Frankly, he was surly, ungrateful, short, and rude. 

Pieces were moving and with Bucky's reappearance in the United States, the question of his future was an immediate concern. Public and government representatives were demanding trials, pardons, and all the rest.

You told him you had found an excellent contact for a lawyer.

"No, thanks, I can find my own," the words were polite, but the tone was clipped, flat, low - almost a growl. 

Being so abruptly shut down, you decided to cut the phone call first and on your terms, so you wished him luck - managing to be more polite than him, making it sound genuine - and hung up.

You called Matt Murdock yourself, and told him about Bucky's case.

You did it only because of your promise to Steve.

And a little bit because you knew you were fucking right and that Bucky needed your lawyer contact. 

Matt chuckled, told you he knew about stubbornness, and that he'd go about approaching the Winter Soldier diplomatically and professionally.

Matt pulled off the best possible pardon deal, even if not everything about it was ideal.

When Pepper decided to get back into some of the Avenger support again - after the Flag Smashers business - so she could provide some more trustworthy resources for Sam and Bucky and the old crowd, you were one of the people she ended up scouting and recruiting to come work on the direct home support team with research and tactical support. Sometimes you went into the field with the team, but usually you stayed at home base and relayed with the agents over comms. 

This was not because you weren't outstanding, but because it was clear the less time you and Bucky spent in proximity to each other, the less awkward it was for everyone else on the team. You were both professional enough to keep the animosity out of things during a mission over comms, and that was about it. 

Otherwise, it was silent treatment and resentment.

Neither of you extended the woes of your dislike for each other actively to anyone else on the team, keeping your mouths shut about your feelings, and engaging in only occasional and minimal eye-rolling when either of you was mentioned. Bucky made a point of giving you electrolyte-enhanced waters first whenever you did go into the field on a mission with them, as if you were a toddler who couldn’t take care of yourself. 

Sitting by you at a holiday dinner at Sam’s you almost thought there was a moment of thaw between you and the Winter Soldier, but you didn’t push the almost comfortable silence between you to anything more - knowing it had been long-established he only tolerated you. It was clearly only a temporary pause, meaning very little as Bucky continued to push for you not being put into the field with them. You didn’t need to be around his close scrutiny. He made getting over any initial crush you might have had on him very easy. 

Things were fine like that for a little over a year. 

And then you were abducted on your way back from a mission outside of Paris where you had been part of the local ground team, taken and smuggled out of the airport. It was not HYDRA this time, just leftover cretins who blipped away but now were back, stirring up their own operation which hoped to double down on being even more nefarious. They were interested in testing some of their new methods and resources while also trying to extract some sensitive information.

Why not kill two birds with one stone by snatching up a well-connected and informed analyst at the heart of the neo-Avengers operation?

They recovered files from debunked HYDRA facilities (hard drives were wiped, but motivated hackers knew how to dig beneath what had been wiped to recover remnants - in hindsight, SHIELD should have taken the tech to a secure location) and developed an even more concentrated and powerful form of sex pollen. They were interested in how it would be absorbed in both the aerosol and liquid forms they had developed. Why not try out both forms on you? 

The aerosol was potent enough, but not in a way that would break you for their line of inquiries.

So, they injected it right into your veins.

Compounding with what had already been ingested into your system, everything intensified, and you - much more quickly than they anticipated - moved past what may have been a state where they could've coaxed the information they wanted out of you. 

Quickly you progressed to the point where you were consumed by this toxin, your body raging and desperate for the physical activity that will get you to a sexual release and flush the toxin from your system. You were keening and moaning and crying, covered in sweat, straining painfully against your bonds, unable to focus on anything anyone said to you. 

You were incoherent and not far from feral. 

Having gone beyond the point you could be giving them intelligence, you were still useful to provide information as the test subject, and they kept you on it through an IV drip to see the limits of what an average female body could take before it was completely broken.

You had absolutely no sense of how long this went on, only that you were not even crying tears anymore, just dry sobbing and wailing, because everything in your throat, and in your veins, and in your chest, and in your vagina burned. 

It was an agony you'd never experienced in your life. 

You vaguely registered a cacophony of sound around you, but it was like it was coming to you through a long dark tunnel, distorted and distant, and you couldn’t open your eyes to see what is going on, not that you could even think to or were capable of caring about anything other than the desperate purgatory you were enduring until you finally passed out.

Bucky and Sam were nearly back to base ops in New York from the Paris mission when the news of your abduction came through, and they turned around immediately. Teams working at home and in Paris - and Bucky in the air while Sam piloted - narrowed your likely whereabouts down to two locations: somewhere near Versailles (because of course evil operations are drawn to the ideas of opulence) or a compound outside of Brussels. 

Time already against them, Sam and Bucky made the tough decision that they needed to split up so they could investigate both options as quickly as humanly possible. Sam dropped Bucky at the well-equipped safe house less than an hour away from the suspected Versailles compound and then headed to Brussels.

After arming himself to the teeth as quickly as he could, Bucky fired up the Ducati in the garage of the safehouse that had been equipped with a noise dampener by your tech engineers, punched in his navigational coordinates, and pushed to top speeds to get to there, stashing the bike half a kilometer away so he could make the rest of the approach in complete stealth.

The operation was much smaller than he anticipated, but because of its size it was almost immediately apparent to Bucky that this was where they had you, and he was also confident he would be able to drop this operation and get to you without as much trouble as he expected.

But in no way could he have predicted the state he would find you in.

He heard your agonizing cries and keening within moments of entering the facility, and he'd already dropped four agents at that point, but the excruciating pain he heard from you was its own form of torture in itself. 

He picked up the pace, tearing ruthlessly through everyone else that came between him and you.

He got the full view of the condition you were in only moments before you passed out. He quickly undid all the bindings and removed everything they had attached to monitor your vitals. He unhooked the IV drip but had the presence of mind to take the bag for testing later. It was inelegant, but he hefted you over his shoulder, and everyone else still conscious who got in his way of getting you out was incapacitated with a single kill shot.

It was close to midnight when he reached the safe house and carefully tucked you into one of the beds. He pulled a secure laptop and some of the base medical testing equipment into the bedroom and kept watch over your catatonic form while he started running tests on the substance you’d been hooked up to and sent the base data for his samples to the bioengineering team back at HQ.

Over the next hour your body experienced a few fits of violent shaking, but you didn’t rouse until almost 2am. When you did, it was with great heaving gasps, and your arms flailed, your hands grasping at the sheets, at your clothes, and then at Bucky when he appeared almost immediately at your side trying to soothe you. He had a theory he hoped wasn’t true – that he knew what was running through your veins – but it was confirmed when you clutched and pawed desperately at him. Then your eyes met his, there was a recognition but coupled with devastating desperation, and you started babbling his name and pleading, “Bucky, please, Bucky. Need. Bucky, help. Bucky, Bucky, Bucky.”

He’d been in distress over you since he first heard your tortured cries hours before, and he knew you needed him.

He wouldn’t deny you. 

He knew the anguish of being a slave within one’s own mind. 

He worked both of you out of your clothes quickly, and then laid you back on the bed and crawled above you. “I gothcu, shh, I know what you need.” You cried, but with a glimmer of relief, when he sunk into your desperately wet cunt. He thrust diligently into you while you clung to his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

The first orgasm was quick, and provided a glorious wave of relief that helped, but it was not enough. 

Not even close.

For nearly two hours he let you use him, pulling him into you, riding him, kneeling under him on all fours while he wrapped an arm around your waist and took you from behind. 

It was relentless fucking until you hit the point of being utterly depleted – mercifully coinciding with when the chemicals seemed to have finally been flushed from your system with enough of the endorphins released into your bloodstream from the numberless orgasms. 

If anyone but a super soldier had found you, Bucky genuinely worried they may not have been enough to help. Seeing you at the utter extreme of limits, in dangerous territory, had shaken something inside him he wasn’t prepared to discover. There had been no question in his mind that he had to get you through it. 

He smoothed your hair off your face and let your body gently sink back into the mattress, then got up and went to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. He wiped your brow first, and you sighed in relief, eyes already closed in bone-tired weariness. Bucky gently wiped the sweat from your neck, continued moving down your body, and then with a second warm cloth he’d also brought, he gently wiped away the mess of slick that had seeped down your thighs. He carefully redressed your exhausted form, sliding you back into your discarded underwear and his t-shirt that was close enough to scoop up from the floor, and tucked you into the covers. You were asleep before he had finished taking care of you.

As you rested, he continued his vigilant watch from before. You stirred an hour or so later. It was still dark, but with almost a hint that sunrise would be creeping to the edges of the windows soon. He moved to your side again, this time with water, which he pressed to your lips, helping you to set up so you could drink. You began to gulp it down, but slowed when he tried to soothe you and urged you to slow your intake.

When you were nearly done downing the glass, your eyes opened briefly, but catching Bucky’s wary gaze on you, you shut them again. Not before Bucky saw the flash of anguish, however. You scooted away and turned your back, pulling your knees up and burying your head in your arms.

Bucky wanted to reach out and touch you, but settled for softly uttering your name, trying to coax you to look at him.

You refused, consumed with shame and horror.

Your throat was thick with a different kind of agony. 

That episode of pain and innate need had ended, but this? 

This was a new hell you would have to endure. 

“Bucky, I’m sorry, and I know I owe you my life and probably all of my sanity, but please, please go. Please leave me be and don’t put me through the humiliation right now of being here only because you were resigned to helping me despite hating me. I’ll have to bear that forever, but please, just… please at least leave me to myself until we get out of here.”

He was silent for a moment.

“Fuck, I don’t hate you – I never truly hated you,” he said. It was quiet, but perfectly audible in the silence of the pre-dawn.

You raised your head tentatively.

He took a deep breath and continued. “I only kept it up to save face since I drove you to despise me and was too proud to turn it around.”

You were truly overwhelmed. You wanted to say something but had no idea how to respond to that admission, especially when you were already wrung out to the very edges of your emotional state.

“I’ve respected you for a long time now.” Bucky broke the silence.

“You have?”

“Probably more than respected you, if I’m being honest.”

You were still exhausted despite having slept for the past few hours, but you pushed your mind to think… you started to reconsider the thaw from hostility to civility, that he argued with you in group settings less, how everything had become less grudging. But you knew you’d put up your own protective walls to shield you from his scrutiny because it had hurt too much to have been spurned by him when you’d reached out to try and forge that relationship with him after Steve left initially. 

And so much of tonight had been a feverish haze, but you had small pieces that were stained into your memory, some of which were him and things you couldn’t categorize as the actions of anything less than someone who cared. 

“How do you feel about me?” you ventured. 

The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a few long moments.

“I don’t know that I can explain it all yet – I don’t think I know the words for it, but… let me show you? No chemicals, just us, see what’s really here?” He reached out a tentative hand to cover one of yours.

You nodded.

You let him move in.

You let him kiss you.

You let him lay you down beneath him again, and this time you sunk into each other. 

You cried again, but this time from the immense emotion. You could feel it rolling off of him and pouring into you, a balm starting to fill in the anguished pieces of your soul. Your spent bodies pushed through any tiredness and desperately moved together again, relentlessly motivated this time to slake the emotional hunger growing between you. Touches that explored, that carved into memory, that expressed. 

This time when you were both only finished by exhaustion, you curled into each other and slept, feeling the beginnings of solace and true peace, a turning of the tide, and maybe the acknowledgement that emotions that had run so deeply between you two were only felt so strongly because you truly valued the other even from the beginning.

READ THE FOLLOW UP DRABBLE: UNCERTAIN AND SURE

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 27

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mentions of unrequited love. smut, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, choking (kinda). Not giving away who the smut is about but uh, don't come at me.

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

Summary: Your anger and frustration take a hold of you, and for the first time, you take control and change things into the better... you hope.

Word count: 14k+

A/N: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me so much, we've been talking about this chapter for two months now (or longer?) and I'm so fucking excited that we're finally here, aaaah!

series masterlist

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A look of anger is nestled deep into your soft features, your brows are knitted together, lips curled downwards. There’s a tired look in your eyes, it’s barely visible beneath the lingering rage. You are clenching your jaw, huffing in frustration ever so often. Despite the mess that must be going on inside your head, you still manage to look beautiful. That is something Heather has always admired about you. No matter what bullshit life throws at you, you always manage to look better than anyone else in the room. No amount of tears, betrayal or pain will stop you from making yourself look good. In fact, Heather is convinced that you look better and better after every fall that you take. 

How? She doesn’t know. 

She eyes you, admiring the way the short maroon skirt looks on you, sun kissed legs glowing beneath the dim lights, the tight black top adorned with dainty lace straps, boots that you wouldn’t have worn a year ago – you look good. Really good. She understands why Eddie struggles to keep his eyes off of you. Or why Steve still pines after you. You’re not just an amazing girl, you’re also a really fucking hot one. 

Another huff falls from your lips, your eyes flash with irritation as you slam one of the records on the shelf. 

Heather isn’t sure if she had ever seen you this angry. 

You are rarely ever angry. 

You weren’t even this angry when Steve stood you up on dates you were excited for.

“What is wrong with cheer captain over there?” Argyle whispers in his girlfriend's ear as he pretends to check out the tape in his hand. 

Heather snorts, looking over her shoulder at him, “she’s not a cheer captain anymore, you know?” 

He shrugs, “once a captain, always a captain, baby.” 

Heather shakes her head. 

“No, seriously. What happened to her?” He asks as he puts the tape back into place, placing his hand on her lower back as he glances at you. “I don’t think anger was an emotion that existed in her world,” he mumbles quietly, watching the way flick your hair back angrily as you make your way back to the counter. 

“I’m not sure,” Heather mumbles, wide eyed and confused, not knowing whether to confront you or not. “I guess something happened with Steve.. again.” Just a moment after those words leave her lips, the bell above the door rings and in walks Eddie with the usual smile that appears on his face whenever he sees you. 

Heather glances at him briefly, before her eyes move back to you, just in time to catch you rolling your eyes at the man you adore so much. She can’t even hide the look of surprise that crosses her face when you look down with a slight glare.

Argyle, who wasn’t blind to it either, laughs quietly, “uh oh, trouble in paradise.” 

Eddie, who is yet to notice the angry look on your face, walks up to the counter with a takeaway cup that he places in front of you, tearing your attention away from the magazine that lies in front of you. Without raising your head, you look up at him through your lashes, eying the cheerful look on his face, the smile, the stupid brown eyes that you love so much. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles, looking around the record store, he waves at Heather and Argyle before he looks back at you. “I got you some coffee, figured you’d need some after last night.”

He drums his fingers against the counter as he stares at you, taking in the sight of you in your pretty little outfit, your glossy, kissable lips, your soft wavy hair that you always spent the most time on. He looks into your beautiful eyes that you glare at him with. He waits for you to crack a smile but, just like last night, you only frown, your lips twitch as though you try to force a smile but fail to do so. You don’t even acknowledge the cup he had placed in front of the magazine that you were glaring at before he walked in. 

Eddie’s heart sinks a little. He hoped to see a smile on your face today. You had been acting weird from the moment you had excused yourself to the bathroom last night. When you had gotten back with another drink in your hand, you chose to sit next to Steve instead of him. Eddie knew that something wasn’t right the moment he saw how you were forcing laughter and pretended to be interested in whatever Robin was telling you. You barely talked to him or to Steve for that matter, but you had at least looked at him. All Eddie got were halfhearted smiles, short replies and a cold shoulder from you. Which hurt – a lot. 

He didn’t allow himself to overthink, to feel hurt over something that probably meant nothing. But now that he stands in front of you, looking into those eyes that seem even more rage filled than the night before he knows that he had every reason to overthink. 

“Thanks,” you mumble. 

Eddie blinks, staring at you with sad eyes. 

“Uh, you’re welcome,” he mutters under his breath, he straightens up, staring down at you with confused eyes. “Did you sleep well? You had a lot of whiskey last night.” 

You didn’t stay over last night. And he didn’t stay over at your place either. In fact, it’s been a while since you had slept in each other’s beds, since you both started working. He misses it. He misses you, he misses waking up beside you, feeling your body on his, smelling your perfume on his sheets. He wants to go back to the night you had stolen the bat plushie for him, when you missed him, when you wanted him to hold you, he misses it, especially now. 

“I slept just fine.” 

He clenches his jaw when you give him another glare. 

What is your problem? 

Are you angry? Or are you angry at him? 

“What do you want?” You ask, voice filled with bitterness. 

Ah. So, you are angry at him. Eddie had never gotten to know what it’s like to feel your anger before. What it’s like to feel your cold shoulder. Not once, had you been angry at him. Not once, had you glared at him, snapped at him, treated him unkindly. Not a single time, had you done wrong by him. You are always sweet, always kind, always good. Now he gets to feel it. And god, it doesn’t feel good. 

“Uh, well. I’m on lunch break and thought I’d drop by,” he mumbles, hating the way his voice wavers, the way he feels so awkward, knowing that Heather and Argyle are listening in on your conversation. “So, the guys canceled band practice tonight. Do you wanna hang out after work? I get off earlier, I can pick you up after your shift, we can go to the movies or have a few drinks at the hideout.”

Suddenly, you snap your head up, looking him directly into his eyes. Eddie is almost a little taken aback by the storm raging in your eyes. 

“Why? Did you run out of girls to eat out?” 

Eddie is stunned. Utterly stunned and dumbfounded. His mouth opens and closes again, too confused, too shocked to say anything. 

What? 

Heather and Argyle who feel just as stunned, look at each other with wide eyes. 

‘Holy shit, dude. That is like a soap opera.’ Argyle mouths with a funny look on his face as he points to you and Eddie. 

Heather glares at him, slapping his shoulder lightly. 

With an eye roll, you look away from Eddie and his confused frown. You turn around and walk away, not bearing to stand being in his presence any longer, you brush past your friends and walk into the backroom. Ignoring the guilt that is burning in your chest after seeing the look in Eddie’s eyes. 

His eyes follow you until you disappear into the hallway. He wants to follow you, he wants to move, he wants to confront you, but he stands frozen in place, not knowing what to say or do. 

What the hell just happened? 

Did you really say that?

“What did you do, Munson?” 

Eddie snaps out of his thoughts, turning his head to look at Heather, who is already glaring at him with arms crossed over her chest. The girl had always intimidated him a little, but especially now. 

He looks over at Argyle who looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or try to calm his angry girlfriend down as he looks between Heather and him. 

Eddie lifts his shoulders, shrugging with a confused and crestfallen look on his face. He is clueless and lost, not quite understanding what the hell just happened. Nothing you say or do makes sense to him lately. You say you wish you met him first, only to act like nothing happened the next day, like you don’t remember your words from the night you had gotten so drunk. He tried not to think too much into it, even after Dmitri’s encouraging words. You could never feel the same, could you? No. Then he thinks about the previous night, about how upset you seemed after his little sex talk with Steve. Surely you are not upset about the things he did but about the things that Steve did or well, didn’t do with you. Not because of what he did months ago, right? You wouldn’t care. You wouldn’t care about what he did with other girls or maybe you do, just not for the reasons he’d hope. You were – are probably just upset about what he did with strangers, what your own boyfriend never did with you but did with a girl he left you for. 

You wouldn’t be jealous, not over him, right? 

Not that he would ever want you to, he would never want you to feel jealous over him. For him, there is only one girl that he wants and that is you. The girls he had fooled around with, were merely a distraction and long before he had admitted to his feelings. The moment he had looked at you a little longer, felt his heart race a little faster, caught himself thinking about you more than he should have, he tried to distract himself, he tried to be with other girls, ones who were willing to touch ‘the freak’. Though, he could never go all the way, the moment he even felt someone else’s touch on him, pictures of you flashed right before his eyes, as much as he tried to force them away, he couldn’t. He knew he was done for when the thought of fucking some random girl left a bitter taste in his mouth and the thought of you stopped him from even going as far. He stopped it right then and there, despite knowing that he would never get a chance with you. It just felt wrong and not as good as it should have. 

“Who’s pussy did you eat, dude?” Argyle shakes his head at him with both an amused and disapproving look on his face. 

Heather glares at her boyfriend before she redirects her glare at Eddie, feeling the anger rise inside of her. She is not ready to see you pine after another guy who can’t keep it in his pants. Though when she sees the sad and confused look in Eddie’s eyes, her shoulders slump a little. She sighs, dropping her arms by her sides. 

“No one’s – what the fuck,” Eddie mumbles, ready to turn on his heels and run out of here. “That was months ago. I don’t know why she’s so pissed at me.” 

Heather knows. Despite not knowing what happened, she knows why you are so pissed. 

She makes her way over to him, squinting her eyes as she tilts her head. 

“What happened months ago?” 

He sighs, cheeks heating up. He doesn’t want to talk about something so meaningless, let alone with a friend who would probably kill for you. 

“And what happened in general?” She asks, now talking in hushed whispers. “We talked on the phone yesterday, she seemed fine and was excited to see you, so what the hell happened?” 

His heart soars to hear that you were excited to see him. 

He runs his fingers through his messy curls, looking around the record store before he looks back at Heather. 

“We hung out with Robin and Steve. We went back to his place, got high and had a couple of drinks.”

“And?” 

“And then we, fuck,” he sighs. “It doesn’t matter, okay? S-She’s just pissed at me because of what Steve did… or didn’t do.” 

Heather’s brows knit together, a confused look taking over her face. She hates the way she never gets anything out of him or you. You are both so confusing sometimes. 

“I just – I’m gonna go,” he mumbles in defeat but also in anger and frustration, “just tell her to give me a call when she feels okay again.” 

Before she can say or ask anything else, he turns around but not before taking another glance into the hallway, huffing when it stays empty. He opens the door and leaves. 

Heather leans against the counter, rolling her eyes. 

When you walk back out, you look around the store, checking to see if he is still here. You ignore the disappointment and guilt gnawing at your stomach. 

“So…. what happened?” Heather asks you when you start reading your magazine again, as though nothing happened. 

“Nothing.”

“Oh come on,” she groans, throwing her hands up. “Just tell me what happened, you clearly need to let it out!” 

With a sigh, you lean closer to her, not wanting her boyfriend to listen in on this conversation. 

“I didn’t fucking know that men eat pussies.” 

Heather doesn’t want to, she really really doesn’t want to laugh. But, the mix of anger and embarrassment in your eyes, the flustered look on your face along with your choice of words makes it hard for her not to giggle, she manages to suppress it though. 

“He found out that Steve never did anything like that with me and then he bragged about his skills to both Robin and Steve. I thought he was done with it, he told me he wasn’t hooking up with anyone anymore but then I found out that he fooled around two or three months ago, Heather! He fucking fooled around with other girls!” You yell in a whisper, getting angrier and angrier. “He was fucking and doing god knows what w-with – god, I don’t even want to know. But then he got mad at me for kissing Steve! He treated me like shit all day when he found out about the kiss, yet he was doing so much worse!” 

Heather’s eyes widen. Not because of what you told him but because of the look on your face. The anger in your voice. The very clear jealousy and storm raging in your eyes. 

She narrows her eyes when she feels Argyle watching. He begins to whistle, pretending to not watch you throwing a fit. 

“It made me so mad, so fucking mad. I-It’s not even that he fooled around with girls, he was– is single and free to do whatever he wants. It’s just – fuck,” you grab your hair, shaking your head as you close your eyes, trying to take deep breaths. “On top of that, I find out that Steve did everything with Nancy fucking Wheeler.” 

You are frustrated. That much is clear. Angry, jealous and irritated. But there is a different kind of frustration, right now. 

“Babe,” Heather whispers, reaching over the counter, she pulls your hands out of your hair, pulling them down and placing them back on the counter, “breathe with me.” 

You open your eyes, looking into her calm ones. 

“Just take a deep breath,” she repeats. 

“I got a joint for you if you want, y/n,” Argyle says from the other side of the room. 

“Argyle!” Heather snaps, glaring at him again – something that only makes him chuckle in response, shrugging. “She needs to chillax a little.” 

You crack a smile at his words.

“Look! There she is, the first smile of the day, good job, Heather!” He grins at his girlfriend with a thumbs up. 

“You made her smile,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes playfully. She looks back at you. 

“Look, Steve sucks, we all know that.” 

“Sucked.” 

She huffs at your correction. 

“He will always suck to me – but anyways, what I’m trying to say is,” she pauses, holding your hands tighter. “Eddie is not Steve. I know you’re scared to watch the guy you like fool around with other girls, like you had to with Steve back then but, Eddie isn’t him. Besides, didn’t he say it was months ago?” 

“Yeah,” you mumble. “Two or three months ago.” 

“See, that’s a long time for a guy, trust me,” she mutters with wide eyes. “It didn’t happen recently, it happened months ago. He stopped for a reason, besides I don’t think there’s a reason for you to feel jealous. I know you like Eddie–”

“I don’t like Eddie,” you blush. 

“Sure you’re don’t, y/n,” Argyle chuckles, not even hiding the fact that he is listening in on your conversation. “You’re not fooling anyone, neither is Eddie. You’re both idiots.”

You frown at his words.

“Don’t listen to him” Heather shakes her head. “Listen, I get why you’re upset but, you need to learn how to speak up and talk about whatever is bothering you. You never talked to Steve, you always kept it all to yourself, which I get because he was a douchebag to you the few times you did open up. But, don’t do the same with Eddie. He cares about you, a lot.”

You look down, guiltily. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Heather sighs, squeezing your hands. “I think he deserved that little cold shoulder, he did the same to you,” she shrugs. “But seriously, just talk to him. Being the on the receiving end of the cold shoulder fucking sucks, you know that.”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I-I just don't know what to say Heather. Whatever I will say will make me sound like some jealous lovesick idiot.” 

She raises her brows, “are you lovesick?” 

You shake your head at her, though she can see you blushing. You are afraid of the feelings you had developed for Eddie, the ones you haven’t even fully admitted to yet. 

“Well, start with an apology and explain to him why you were angry. That it was unfair of him to treat you like that after the kiss with Steve when he was doing, well, that..” 

You nod.

“Talk to him, go to the hideout, after work. We both know you want to.” 

“Us three know, you want to,” Argyle corrects her. 

“Yeah, yeah. Us three,” she laughs. 

You snort, shaking your head at them both. 

“I don’t know,” you mumble. “What if he doesn’t want to see me? I was a bitch to him.”

Argyle snorts, “girl, he came here all the way just to spend his lunch break with you and he looked like a poor little kitten who was kicked to the curb by his owner. He does want to see you.” 

“I-I don’t know.” 

“Y/n,” Heather sighs.

“I just, I didn’t bring my car and I don’t want to walk all the way there.”

She knows that you are trying to make up excuses because you are too afraid to face him now after what happened. 

“I’ll give you a ride in the coolest pizza van ever,” Argyle grins, “it’s supposed to storm later, wouldn’t want you to walk home in the rain, anyways,” he shrugs as he finally walks up to the counter, throwing his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder, he grins at you. 

“See, you got a driver and a few hours to calm down!” Heather says with a big smile on her face. “Now let’s go before she says no,” she turns to her boyfriend, letting go of your hands to grab his, she starts to drag him out of the store. 

“Oh,” Argyle chuckles, “see ya later!” 

“Yeah bye,” you sigh, already dreading the moment you will have to face Eddie. 

You busy yourself with the new records that came in today, trying to ignore the abandoned cup of coffee on the counter, but you keep looking at it, feeling worse and worse the more time passes by. 

Eddie didn’t deserve the way you treated him. Even when he was once a dick to you, he still didn’t deserve it. But anger controlled you and maybe a pinch of jealousy. Eddie is single but that won’t stay that way forever. He might not be around for you, forever. Someday, someone will come into his life and steal his heart, someone he will fall for, someone he will leave you for. The thought of it, puts a frown on your face. Imagining him with another girl leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, it makes your insides feel as though they’re twisting and catching on fire. You hate it. You hate the thought of him with someone else. 

But it will happen someday. Anyday. 

A mix of emotions run through you all day and it almost becomes unbearable on the drive to the hideout. Neither Argyle’s attempts at making you laugh with his silly jokes or his music manage to calm you down. Nothing manages to make you feel better in the slightest. By the time you jump out of the van, your hands are shaking and your heart is pounding. 

What if he doesn’t want to see you? 

What if he is angry at you? 

What if you just ruined a friendship that means everything to you?

The rain is pouring, forcing you to find shelter quickly. Normally, you would’ve given yourself at least five minutes to calm down before walking inside but you refuse to walk in looking like a wet dog. 

With shaky hands, you open the door and step inside, ignoring the raindrops rolling down your cheeks. You take a few deep breaths, pulling the jacket tighter around your body. You look towards the little booth you usually sit at, only to find it empty. 

You swallow nervously, furrowing your brows. 

The sound of a girl's laughter pulls your attention towards the bar and for a moment, your heart stops beating, your breath hitches in your throat. Unable to move, you stand frozen in place with hands that shake for different reasons other than nervousness now. 

Eddie is sitting at the bar, talking to some girl. She touches his arm, leaning closer to him. You hear her giggle and you see his smile and that is enough for you to regret even thinking of coming here. Of course, he went out to find someone else the moment you rejected his invitation. 

Your heart starts pounding again, your throat feels tight, too tight. You can’t bear to stare at the sight in front of you any longer. To see him smile at someone like this, to see someone else touching him, to see him so happy with someone other than you. 

The moment you hear his laughter is the moment you know you’re done for. It’s too late to come back from this now. It’s too late to try and keep your heart safe from yet another heartbreak. It’s too late to stop yourself from falling because you already fell. And you lost, again. 

Tears prickle in your eyes, your bottom lip starts trembling. 

The urge to walk over to him feels strong, too strong. But you fight it, not wanting to make a fool out of yourself, you turn around and storm out of the bar, not caring about the pouring rain. You step out into the cold, letting the rain crash down on you. 

You don’t even acknowledge his van as you walk past it. 

You’re blinking away the tears, not wanting them to fall. The feeling of dread, anger and sadness is starting to consume you, again. It feels like Halloween night, all over again. 

The door slams open behind you and footsteps echo through the empty streets. You keep walking, not bothering to look back, not even when you hear his voice calling your name. Only when he catches up to you, blocking your path by standing in front of you do you stop walking. 

You see the irritation in his features, the confusion as he stares you down. 

He is trying to shield himself from the rain but to no avail, his bangs are already sticking to his forehead. 

“I called your name!” 

You huff, trying to step around him, but he only moves in front of you again. 

“What the fuck is your problem?” He finally snaps. “Where are you going!?”

“Home!” You try to walk past him once again, but Eddie is stubborn, not letting you go. You huff in anger, looking up into his eyes with a glare, “Go back to your girl, I don’t want to be the one getting in the way of you and some pussy, Munson!” 

His eyes flash with confusion, darkening in frustration. 

“I– what!?” 

You shake your head at him, scoffing at his faked confusion. 

“Get out of the way.” 

“What!? No!” He shakes his head, wanting nothing more than to take your hand and drag you towards his van but he doesn’t want to startle you in this moment, not after what happened with Ray. 

You clench your jaw, glaring at him. You watch how his breathing gets heavier and heavier, how he glares into your eyes with both anger and frustration. 

Something like this has never happened before. 

You had never gotten into a fight before. Not once. 

“Get in the van, sweetheart.” 

The nickname that usually rolls off his tongue so sweetly, sounding so bitterly now. 

You shake your head. 

He huffs, looking away for a moment, he suddenly no longer feels the cold rain on his skin, the goosebumps underneath his clothes. He only feels the irritation rushing through him. He looks back at you, staring at the frown on your face, the furrowed brows, the pursed lip, the way you’re breathing so heavily. 

You are angry and so is he, he is fuming. 

“I’m not letting you go until you get in the damn van.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, not minding the pouring rain, at all. 

“No.” 

He stares at you in disbelief. Who would’ve thought that you could be such a brat?

He takes a step closer, looking down at you, “get in the van,” he says, slowly. 

Eddie expects you to stay stubborn, to shake your head and continue to argue with him on that. To his surprise, you drop your arms to your sides and turn around but not without an eye roll. 

He shakes his head at the attitude you’re still giving him, the one that got even worse. He reaches for his car keys, following you to his van. Despite his anger, he still walks over to the passenger side, opening the door for you. The rain dripples down your face, you get in the van with a mad look on your face, not even sparing him a glance. 

Another huff falls from his lips when you continue to ignore him. He closes the door, not wanting to stand longer in the rain than he has to, he rushes over to the driver's side, quickly getting in. 

He pushes the key into the ignition, starting it but not moving to start driving yet. He looks over at you after taking a deep breath. You’re staring out the window, not moving, not speaking, not turning to look at him the way you usually do, even your knees are pointed away from him. 

“Are you gonna talk to me?” He asks as he grabs the steering wheel. 

Silence. 

He closes his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong, at least?” 

You only shift in your seat, huffing. He notices how fast you’re blinking, how you keep pressing your lips together to keep them from trembling. His eyes soften a little when he realizes that you are trying to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. 

“Can you just drive me home?” You ask in annoyance. 

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you for a long minute, trying to figure you out. He feels restless, his heart is pounding and he dreads the moment he has to drop you off at home, knowing that this will stay unresolved, but what can he do? 

With a sigh, he turns away from you, he doesn’t even bother to turn up the music when he starts driving. For the first few minutes, the car ride is spent in silence. There is a storm raging in his mind, a million questions running through it, ones that he will find no answers for himself. 

You are silent. You are never this silent. You always talk to him, you never ever ignore him. 

“What the hell is going on, y/n?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road. “Are you ever gonna speak to me again or are you gonna continue to act like a goddamn brat?” 

The faintest scoff sounds through the space between you, though this is all he gets out of you. 

He clenches his jaw and holds the steering wheel even tighter than before, he taps his finger against it, getting jumpy the harder his heart starts pounding. He doesn’t want to leave things unresolved. He doesn’t want to drop you off at home like this. He doesn’t want to deal with this tension, this anger from you any longer. He can’t take it. He can’t take the cold shoulder, not from you.

But he feels so powerless, not knowing what he did wrong, not knowing what he did to make you so angry. 

“What is wrong with you!? I invited you tonight, and you clearly rejected the invitation! You’ve been acting like a total bitch to me since yesterday night at Steve’s!” 

Not a single word leaves your mouth. He tries, he really tries to stay calm but he’s scared. He’s fucking scared that he messed it up without realizing that he did. 

In his state of anger and panic, he pulls the car off the road, slamming the brakes as he brings the car to a stop. He unbuckles the seatbelt, briefly glancing at you to find you staring at him in confusion. 

Oh, so now you’re finally fucking looking at him?

He gets out of the car, ignoring the way you mumble his name or the way you look at him with those big irresistible eyes. He stands beneath the pouring rain, not caring about the risk of catching a cold. He needs to cool off. He needs to breathe. He needs to think. 

He starts pacing back and forth, breathing heavily, thinking too much, too hard. 

He hears the door slamming and when he opens his eyes, he sees you standing there, even in the darkness, he can see the confused look, that same one that he has been wearing all day. Not just today, for the past few weeks. 

“Get back in the van!” 

He almost wants to laugh. 

“Seriously, come back, Eddie!” 

He won’t stop pacing, he keeps looking at you, at the way you’re standing there, not moving. 

“You make me so fucking mad and confused sometimes!” He yells over the loud rain. 

He sees the way you draw back, the way you look so offended for a second, before you start making your way over to him. 

“I make you confused? With what!?”

“Y-You tell me you wish you met me first, what the fuck does that even mean!?” He throws his hands up, he finally stops pacing. “You act like it never happened, like you never even said it. I-I don’t understand what is going on anymore! Why are you so fucking angry at me?”

You tense up, not daring to say anything. 

Eddie wants and needs an answer, he deserves one. You owe it to him. His brown eyes are filled with anger but they are also pleading. You have to tell him the truth but you can’t do that, despite what Heather said, you can’t do it. You’re scared.

You look down, huffing with your shoulders slumped, “fine, if you won’t drive me home, I’ll walk,” you say, stubbornly as you take a few steps before he jumps in front of you again.

He scoffs in disbelief, “oh, you’re not going anywhere until we work this out!” 

“Eddie–”

“I’m done with you running away from everything!”

“I’m not running.” 

He shakes his head at you, “no? Then what do you call this then, sweetheart? You keep running away when things get difficult or confusing but please, just this once, don’t run, don’t walk away from me,” he pleads, wanting nothing more than to take your hands in his.

You look up, finally meeting his eyes again. 

His hair no longer holds the volume from before, it’s drenched, water dripping from it, his face is soaked from the rain, his eyes blazing with anger and frustration, your eyes move to his lips and you once again, feel the fluttering in your chest, that you try to ignore, especially now. 

“You never say how you really feel, you never give the whole truth, you make me all confused and leave me hanging, all the damn time!” 

You shake your head, “when did I ever leave you hanging!?” 

He raises his brows, eyes widening as he looks at you in both disbelief and confusion. 

“How about the time you avoided me after you kissed Steve? Or the time you just disappeared on me for a whole week–”

“I called you every night!” You yell with a frown on your face. 

“Yeah? Well, you never told me why you suddenly needed to stop seeing me!” 

You swallow and look away, something that makes him roll his eyes. 

“Or the time you told me you wish you met me first? I-It’s been fucking with my mind ever since and I can’t make sense of it! You said these words to me and then passed out and the next day, you acted like nothing fucking happened!” 

You close your eyes, bouncing your knee and digging your nails into your palms. 

“Why does that matter now?” You ask, getting irritated the longer you stay out here, the longer you feel the clothes sticking to your cold skin. 

Eddie can’t explain the rage that is cursing through his veins. It isn’t directed at you but at the feelings he can’t set free because he can’t ruin this thing between you even more.

“It matters to me!” He yells, sounding desperate to know the truth. “Why do you say these things to me? Why are you so angry at me? Why aren’t you fucking talking to me?” 

You snap your head up, hating the way your heart is filled with so much fear or the way your body won’t stop shaking. He looks so angry at you – he is angry with you and your silence. 

“You never give me a chance to know what you’re angry about! But fuck, this time you are getting into my fucking nerves because you – I don’t know why you are so mad and why you keep being so cold towards me when I didn’t do shit!” He exclaims, feeling like his heart is about to jump out. 

He is angry, but he is mostly scared. Scared to lose you. 

You look offended by his words and despite it, you move closer and closer to him, drawn into him like a magnet despite the anger that should push you away, the way it always pushed you away from Steve for a little while before he’d come back asking for forgiveness. 

“Oh, so I’m cold now!? So you can be mad at me and act cold whenever you want, but I fucking can’t!?” 

He knows what you’re talking about. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. And as he looks into your eyes and he sees something else besides anger, he slowly begins to understand. He looks into your eyes, he watches the way the drops of rain run down your cheeks, the way your angry eyes are filled with unshed tears, the way you are so much closer than before, the way your chest is rising up and down heavily as you stare at him intensely, eyes scanning his whole face. 

He feels desperate. He wants and needs to fix this, he needs you to explain to him what happened so he can fix it, he needs you to stay, he needs you to stay with him. He can’t lose you. 

You stare at his lips for a long time, you listen to the way your heart is pounding, to the way your hands itch to touch his skin, despite the situation you find yourself in, despite the anger that is still cursing through your veins. 

You can’t bear this any longer. You can’t take this, not with him. You are so sick of the fighting. You are sick of being scared. You are sick of losing. You are sick of wondering and never taking action. 

“I at least explained to you why! You are afraid of telling me your reasons, and I honestly have no clue what your deal is! So can you please just tell me–”

You cup his cheeks and pull him down, not wasting a second, you smash your lips against his, not letting yourself second guess it any longer. You finally do it. You kiss him. 

You kiss Eddie. 

With your eyes closed and your body almost pressed against his, you move your lips against his as you hold his face with your hands, getting lost in the feeling of kissing your best friend, not even noticing how still his body is. 

Eddie stands frozen in place. His eyes are wide, his heart is racing like crazy. He stares at you, not quite understanding what is happening, not believing what is happening. Is this real? Is he real? Are you real? Are you really kissing him? Is this really happening?

This is everything he ever wanted. To feel your lips on his. To find out what it’s like to kiss you, even if just for one time. 

As you stand here, kissing him under the pouring rain that is crashing down on the both of you, Eddie can’t believe that this isn’t something out of his dreams. Not even the cold rain can pull him out of his trance, not even the racing of his heart can pull him out of whatever shock he is under. 

Only when your lips stop moving and you shakily remove your hands from his face, you open your eyes, almost fearfully. You get flustered, so so flustered. Your eyes scan his whole face and he notices how anxious you now look. You swallow as your brows pinch together, a look of rejection flashes in your eyes as they begin to tear up. You blink, opening and closing your mouth. You take a small step back from him as your shoulders slump. You look crestfallen and that finally causes him to snap out of it. 

You blink, trying to hide the tears that are about to spill. 

He doesn’t want you. He never wanted you. What ever made you think that he could want you? Who does? Who could ever want you? 

You take another step back, raising your hands towards your lips, “I-I’m s–” 

Before you can even utter another word, Eddie takes two steps forward, he cups your cheeks, not letting you move away or doubt yourself any longer, not wasting another second, he leans down and he crashes his lips onto yours, taking your breath away with only the feeling of his lips moving against yours, you can’t even stop the gasp from escaping despite having kissed him just now. But you easily melt into his touch and against his lips. Your eyes close and you kiss him back in an instant. The softest sigh falls from his lips when you start to kiss each other like you’ve always wanted to. It’s soft and slow at first. His thumbs linger on your cheekbones, your hands are now pressed against his chest, you can feel his heart pounding loudly,matching the pace of your own. The softest sigh escapes your lips, enough to make Eddie weak in the knees. You are both savoring this feeling, the feeling of the way your lips move against one another, the feeling of your bodies pressed together, the fluttering of your hearts, the joy inside of you. 

Eddie already knew that he was done for before this. But now, he is ruined and he doesn’t mind it for a single second. Even if you are only giving him a taste of this, even if this is the one and only kiss, he will die a happy man. He doesn’t know whether he feels like crying tears of joy or screaming in happiness when he feels you deepening the kiss, still going slow and soft as before but wanting more, more, more. He can feel you holding back. 

His hands leave your face, slipping down your – his soaked denim jacket, he squeezes your arms before his hands find their way to your waist. 

He could stand here forever, just kissing you underneath the stormy sky. Embracing the tingly feeling you leave his lips with, the giddiness in his stomach, the racing in his heart. He doesn’t want this to end, even when he’s getting breathless, he doesn’t want it to end. He just wants to keep kissing you. He just wants to keep feeling your lips moving against his, he wants to feel your hands on his chest, your body pressed against his, your breath on his skin, the taste of strawberries on your lips. He wants this to keep going. He doesn’t want this to end. 

But neither do you. 

You pull away from each other and open your eyes at the same time, both gasping for air as you stare at each other wide eyed. Your chests are rising up and down heavily. Rain is dripping down both your bodies but neither of you feel the coldness of it. You only feel each other. You only see each other. 

You only see him. You only feel him. His lips are parted, his cheeks are flushed, he is staring at you, eyes scanning your whole face. He wants more. You can tell by the look in his eyes as he stares at your lips, wanting to smash his against yours again, wanting to kiss you harder. 

And you want it too. 

You want more. 

You want him. 

All of him. 

You can sense each other’s desperation and this time, you both crash into each other after a long moment of heavy silence. You throw your arms around his neck as he tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you flush against him as your lips meet, once again. This kiss is unlike the first one or the second one. This kiss is filled with so much desperation, longing, and raw lust, it’s rough and everything you’ve ever wanted to feel. You moan at the feeling of his ringed fingers digging into your skin and his plump lips kissing you so roughly and passionately. 

Eddie still struggles to believe that this is actually happening, that you are kissing him, that you are letting him slip his tongue past your lips, that you are moaning against his lips, that you are letting him slam your back against the side of his van, only for you to dig your fingers into his hair, pulling and tugging at his wet curls. 

He moans into the kiss when you bite his lower lip, catching him off guard a little by the roughness of your touch. You press yourself against him, sighing and fucking whimpering for him. 

One thing is for certain, the friendship is ruined. 

Your tongues clash together, your noses bump into each other as the kiss gets rougher and rougher. Both of you are breathing heavily, neither of you want to move away but when the lack of air gets too much again, you part away from the kiss but Eddie can’t stop, he brushes your hair to the side and leans down to press his lips against your jaw, kissing his way down to your neck. 

“Eddie,” you moan in need, closing your eyes and biting your bottom lip when you feel his lips on your sweet spot. You keep your hands around his neck, keeping yourself pressed against his body. You have to squeeze your thighs together when you feel him against your stomach, when you feel his lips sucking on your skin, when you hear his moans as he starts pleading for you. 

“God, I have to have you, baby,” he murmurs against your neck. “I need you.”  

He is asking, begging for you. 

Your stomach flutters and your knees almost buckle. 

You want him too. You need him too. 

You reach for his face, cupping his cheeks as you lean in, desperately kissing his lips again. 

“The back,” you whisper against his lips, pecking them. “The back of the van, now.”

His lips twitch as his eyes light up, you keep pecking his lips, “please.”

He takes your hand, dragging you towards the back of the van, almost shaking from excitement. He opens the door and grabs your waist, “c’mere,” he murmurs as he pulls your back flush against his chest, pressing his lips to your neck before he urges you inside. Your stomach flips at the thought of what is about to happen. You bite your lip as you bend down, crawling inside, onto the mountain of blankets and pillows you and Eddie have put in here, months ago. Your palms land on the gray pillows as you crawl forward. 

Eddie’s eyes widen, his breath hitches in his throat when your short skirt rides up, exposing your black thong to him. His mouth waters and his pants suddenly feel ten times tighter than they did five seconds ago. 

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, swallowing harshly.  

Who would’ve thought that his sweet best friend wears lacy black thongs underneath her short little skirts. Fuck. A few months back you were wearing polka dot underwear with cute little bows. He only knows that cause he accidentally walked in on you changing, a few times. Something that led to uncomfortable situations for him. 

Snapping out of his thoughts when your desperate eyes meet his, he finally follows you inside, closing the door behind him when you suddenly reach forward and eagerly grab him by the cuffs on his belt, earning a surprised moan from him when you pull him down, on top of you, not giving him the time to react before you slam your lips back against his. With one hand on the pillow beside you and the other cupping your cheek, Eddie kisses you back, savoring the feeling of your sighs and moans, the feeling of your hands on him, as they start to explore his body, moving down his shoulders and arms as you start tugging on his jacket. 

“Off,” you murmur between pecks. “Take it off.” 

His heart flutters at the eagerness behind your soft voice. Without breaking the kiss, he takes it off, throwing the soaked leather jacket to the side before he lets himself get lost in the feeling of you. 

Eddie feels like his heart might explode from how hard it is beating inside his chest, your soft moans are driving him insane, your touches, the way you run your fingers down his arms before they find their way to his waist, pulling him closer and closer until his body is flush against yours. 

He allows his hands to wander, moving them down to your chest and stomach, basking in the feeling of your hands gripping his sides harder when he slips his cold hand underneath your shirt. 

You are the first to break the kiss, you open your eyes as he does too, both of you are breathing heavily.

Eddie stares at the lust in your eyes, the pupils that have widened, leaving almost none of the color behind. Your lips are swollen from the kisses, wet hair already a mess, you are breathing heavily, tugging at his shirt. Eddie adores you. He really fucking adores you. He wants nothing more than to rip your clothes off and worship you. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie breathes. “Are you–”

“Fuck me,” you whisper before he can even ask the stupid question. “Fuck me, Eddie. Please.” 

Yeah, he for sure, died and somehow went to heaven. He is convinced of it. 

Your skin feels on fire. Despite the cold rain you’ve been standing under for the past few minutes, your skin feels on fire. Your heart is racing, not out of fear or heartbreak. No, it’s racing because of Eddie. You want him. You need him inside of you. Your body is aching for him. You are so lust filled – in a way you have never been before. 

Eddie’s cheeks are flushed, you can see it as you lay beneath the small string of fairy lights on the roof of his van. His eyes are black. His skin feels just as hot as yours. His strong hands are still on your stomach but you want them elsewhere. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this, princess.”

You are aching. Absolutely aching for him. 

Eddie kisses your lips, your cheek, your jaw, your neck as his hands start to push at the denim jacket, desperately wanting you out of it. 

“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing at your waist, he pulls you up with him, so he can take your clothes off. You spread your legs over his lap, watching the way his eyes fall to your exposed thighs as your skirt rides up. His eager hands get rid of the wet denim still covering your body, he throws it next to his leather jacket. His lips twitch, curling into a smirk as you start pulling his shirt over his head, feeling just as eager as he does. You throw it down, not caring where it lands. 

You swallow as you take in the sight of his naked upper body. The chest you've looked at many times makes your skin burn now, the tattoos that linger on his pale skin now look delicious, and you just want your hands all over him. You lick your lips as you lean closer to him, stomach fluttering at the sound of his breath hitching when you press your lips to the tattoo on his chest, keeping your eyes on his. 

Eddie’s heart makes a jump, the butterflies in his stomach go crazy. He grabs your sides harder. 

“Fuck,” he sighs in content, trying to keep his eyes from shutting when you start to kiss your way up to his neck. “Y-You’re driving me crazy today, sweetheart. C-Can’t believe this is real.”

“You’ve been driving me crazy too, Eddie,” you mumble into his neck as you start sucking. “Why did you talk to her like that? You’re mine.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, a gasp nearly tears out of his mouth. 

Did you really just say that?

You suck harder, fingers digging into his scalp as you tilt his head to the side, needing more access to his neck. You switch between soft and rough kisses, gentle pecks and just sucking away like a vampire who’s starved.

“Mine.” 

Eddie’s heart nearly explodes. This has to be a dream, a very very good fever dream. He is surprised by the roughness of your touch and by your words, words that aren’t directed at Steve Harrington but at him. 

You’re surprised by yourself but your mind is in a haze, your blood pumping from all the adrenaline, you couldn’t care less about showing how jealous you were, how possessive you are of him. He wants you just as much as you want him, you don’t have to be afraid anymore, you don’t have to fear that this might push him away, you don’t have to hide your true feelings anymore, not the way you did with him. 

You can be jealous, possessive, angry, selfish, a goddamn brat. It won’t push him away. With Steve, you always had to be the good girl, the silent one, the one that was afraid to show her true side because you knew that it would push him away. 

But not him. Never him. 

“I’m all yours,” he breathes as he grabs your cheeks, pulling you back so he can see your face again. “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours, sweetheart.” And with that, he slams his lips back against yours, crashing them onto yours, earning a loud moan from you. He kisses you messily. Not knowing that his words make your heart feel more alive than ever. 

You smile into the kiss when his hands start to roam your body, sliding down your back and grabbing your ass, fighting to urge to push his hand under your skirt just yet, but the thought of your little black thong makes him groan into the kiss, especially when your hand slides down his stomach and you press your palm against his bulge, tearing another groan out of him. He starts playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly pushing it up, his fingertips graze your bare skin, causing you to shudder. You pull away so he can take your shirt off, leaving you in just your lacy bra. He pecks your lips one more time before he pulls back to take a look at you. 

“Oh fuck,” Eddie whispers as he takes in the sight of you, nearly moaning in desperation. He saw you in a bikini before, he saw this much skin before, but it’s not the same. It’s different. This is different. Your chest is only covered by black lace, your skin is glistening beneath the dim lights hanging above you, you are breathing heavily, staring at him with wide eyes, begging for his touch. Your hair is sticking to your skin, your lipstick is smudged, you look like the prettiest girl in the world. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers, staring at you with nothing but awe in his eyes. 

You are blushing at his words, and yet, you are the one to take him by surprise again when you lean in to kiss his chest, but not staying there for long, opting to kiss down his stomach as you begin to unbuckle his belt, moving lower and lower. 

His eyes widen when he realizes what you are trying to do. You want to suck him off. His cock twitches at the thought of your pretty lips around him but before he can let his thoughts get any further, he grabs you by your elbows and pulls you back up. As much as he is dying to let one of his fantasies become reality, he’d rather bring another, bigger one to life. 

“Nope.”

A frown takes over your face and you look up with a pout on your lips, one that makes it impossible not to kiss you. 

“I need to taste you, sweetheart.” He gently pushes you back down, making sure that your head hits the softest pillow, he steals another kiss. “Please, let me be the first to taste you.” 

His brown eyes look into yours, waiting for approval, waiting for you to say ‘yes’. It doesn’t take you long to answer, you nod your head quickly, begging with your eyes. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks as he grabs at your chest, squeezing your boobs, pulling another loud moan out of you. 

“Do whatever you want to me, Eddie,” you whine as you let all the frustration, all the pent up tension that’s been building up in the past few months, out.  “Please, just, please do something.” 

His stomach makes a somersault at your words, he is almost in disbelief of what the night has turned into, but for now, he pushes the shock aside and only focuses on you. He unclasps your bra with little effort, peppering your shoulder and your chest with kisses as he pushes the straps down your arms and takes the flimsy material off. 

“God,” he groans as he feels the uncomfortable strain in his jeans that have gotten way too fucking tight. “I knew they would look good, but never this, baby,” he moans as he grabs your boobs, leaning down, without wasting another second, he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking around it. 

“E-Eddie!” You gasp. 

His hand trails down your stomach, past your skirt that he flips over so he can touch you. He cups your pussy and he can’t even suppress the moan when he feels how much you have soaked through the thin material of your thong. He pushes it to the side, letting his fingers glide through your wet folds. 

“Please,” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. “More!”

He smirks as he keeps sucking on your nipple, teasing your soaked entrance with his fingertips before he brings them up to your clit. 

“You’re so wet, sweetheart.”

Your eyes close and your lips press together harshly when you feel him rubbing your clit in slow, torturous circles, stopping only to tease your entrance the same way. It only lasts for a moment though when he gets just as impatient as you are. He releases your nipple with a pop!, trailing kisses down your stomach. 

You push yourself up on your elbows, blushing like crazy, the closer he gets to your heat, the longer he keeps looking into your eyes, even when he settles between your thighs. Fuck. You are aching for this – you have been aching for his touch for a long time now. Who would’ve thought that you would ever get him like this? 

Eddie takes his sweet time with you, getting rid of your skirt first before he hooks his fingers around your panties, yanking them down slowly. Your breathing picks up and your cheeks feel hotter than ever. Even in the haze of lust, you feel a little shy and nervous, having never done this before. All kinds of questions start running through your mind, filling you with sudden doubts – ones that Eddie quickly shuts down. 

“Fuck me,” he groans, almost drooling at the sight of your glistening pussy. “You’re so pretty.” He takes you off guard by licking a stripe up from your hole to your clit. “You taste so sweet too,” he moans as he repeats it again. 

“Eddie!” You gasp as you try to close your thighs, only for him to spread them open again. 

“Keep your legs open for me, baby,” Eddie groans, wanting nothing more than to just bury his face in your pussy and make you scream and cry until you’re begging him to fuck you – and that is just what he does. He grabs your thighs roughly, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he buries his face in your cunt. 

He teases your clit first, licking around it, sucking on it as he keeps his eyes on you, the whole fucking time. Wanting, needing to see you fall apart for him. You moan loudly, he keeps his lips attached to your clit as his fingers slip inside of you, slowly, stretching you open. 

You squeeze your legs shut around his head, elbows buckling when he starts fingering you. His fingers certainly reach deeper inside of you than your own. 

“Mmmh, Eddie.” 

Eddie’s cock is twitching, begging for release. You are moaning his name and he didn’t even get started. He slowly starts to pump his fingers in and out of your sopping pussy. Licking down your center and slipping his tongue inside of you. You expect him to replace his fingers with his tongue but instead, he fucks you with both. 

“That feels so good, Eddie! D-Don’t stop – please don’t stop!” You whine, a little shyly. He sees the flustered look on your face but the lust is stronger than any other emotion inside of you, right now.

He groans when you clench around his fingers but start grinding against his hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”

“I– you – ah!” You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your head hit the pillow, you dig your nails into the blanket. 

The van is filled with moans from both you and Eddie, heavy breathing and the wet noises of his fingers slamming in and out of you. 

Eddie has to restrain himself from grinding down against the blanket but you make it really hard not to. He keeps his eyes on you, watching the way you pinch your brows together as you bite your lip, still letting moans and whimpers fall, though. He sees the way you're gripping the blanket tightly, but he craves to feel you tugging and pulling his hair, something that Eddie wouldn’t allow anyone else to do. He reaches his hand out, wrapping it around your wrist, he guides it towards his wet curls and you instantly grab at them, earning a low growl from him.

He switches between licking and fucking you with his tongue and you can’t help but gasp and whimper at every flick of his tongue. This is unlike anything you have ever felt before. The feeling of his tongue slipping in and out of your wet hole, his thumb rubbing your clit, his moans that add even more to the pleasure. 

“You have no idea what you do to me, baby,” he murmurs. “I can’t believe that this is happening, that you’re letting me do this.”

You pull his hair harder and buck your hips up against his face. Your walls flutter around his fingers, your eyes sting with tears from the pleasure that he is giving you. You force your eyes to stay open, wanting to look into his as he keeps staring at you. You open your mouth to speak when he suddenly tears a gasp out of you, by curling his fingers, reaching so deep inside of you that you almost sob from how good it feels. 

“Eddie! What – oh fuck!” You whimper, looking down at him through your blurry vision. You watch him fuck you with both his tongue and fingers, tearing high pitched moans out of you when you feel how deep his fingers are inside of you. Knuckles deep. And you can’t help but grind against his hand, holding onto his hair so tightly as you squeeze your eyes shut, enjoying the feeling of Eddie eating you out so desperately and eagerly. 

He watches the way you try to say something only to be cut off by your own moans and whimpers, you turn into a blubbering mess when his fingers find your g-spot and his thumb rubs circles on your swollen clit. This is all he ever wanted. To worship you. To taste your sweetness on his tongue, his newest addiction. The fact that he gets to be the first makes it all even more special, you definitely won’t forget this. 

Who would’ve thought that your jealousy would bring the two of you to do this. 

He licks your pussy, moaning as though it’s the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He is holding your legs tighter now as he eagerly eats you out, shaking his head as he moves his tongue in a way you can’t even explain, you can only whimper out his name, pulling his hair harshly as you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling the tension in your stomach becoming stronger and stronger. 

Waves of pleasure run through your body, you’re getting closer and closer. You are falling apart, barely able to keep your shaking body still as you feel his fingers pumping deeper, tongue moving faster, his moans adding to the pleasure. You squeeze your legs shut around his head, opening your eyes to look down at him, the look in his almost black eyes, the desperation and lust behind him is what throws you over the edge. 

It’s Eddie. Eddie who cared for you since the beginning. Eddie who protected you from the moment you two started talking. Eddie who unconditionally was beside you through ice and fire.

“I’m gonna – Eddie!” A loud yelp escapes you when you can no longer hold it back, he flicks his tongue again, making you cum in a way that has you seeing stars. He laps up everything you give him, eyes almost rolling back when he continues to taste you. 

You chant his name, over and over again, making the strain in his pants more uncomfortable than ever. He doesn’t want to stop, he wants to keep going, he wants to keep tasting you but when you desperately tug at his hair and murmur a whiny ‘I need you’, he presses a kiss to your clit, smirking at the way you whimper his name as he starts to kiss his way back up your body.  

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, not even fazed by the juices dripping down his chin. You wrap your legs around his waist and bring him closer, both of you moaning at the feeling of his dick pressed against you. 

“Still jealous?” He smirks. 

“Shut up,” you frown as you pull him in for another kiss. 

“You don’t have a reason to feel jealous, I want you, I only ever wanted you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the confession, eyes widening and softening at the same time. 

“And what about those girls you’ve been with?” 

He kisses your lips, “I never thought you’d want me back, I tried to distract myself but it never worked so I stopped.”

Your heart flutters in your chest, your lips twitch, you can’t help but smile as you pull him in for another, deeper kiss, one that he reciprocates right away. 

With one hand on your cheek and the other playing with your boob, he flicks his tongue against yours, moaning and whimpering for more. 

“I need you,” you whisper against his lips. “I need you inside of me, Eddie.”

His eyes light up and his dick twitches at your words. He never thought he'd hear these words from you. 

“Are you sure, sweetheart?”

“Please.” 

You push your hands down his body, grabbing at his belt again, you start fumbling with it, wanting to get rid of his pants quickly. He helps you, not stopping with the kisses even when he takes the rest of his clothes off. 

Realization rushes through him and he groans in annoyance. 

“Fuck, I don’t have a condom.” 

He watches the way your lips curl into a smirk. 

“We don’t need one. I never stopped taking the pill.”

His eyes darken even more, his stomach flips. 

“Shit sweetheart, you can’t just say that to me,” he groans at the thought of fucking you without one. This night keeps getting better and better. 

You giggle and catch him by surprise when you flip him over and get on top of him, straddling him. You wrap your hand around his cock, nearly gasping at the size. Pre cum is already leaking out of his tip and rolling down his length, you have to bite down on your lip to keep yourself from moaning. You need him inside of you, now. You press your hand on his tattooed chest, fingers grazing the chain around his neck as you slowly sink down on his cock, not wanting to waste another second. He stretches you open and you welcome it, loving the way it feels to be filled by him. 

You miss the way he stares at you in awe, the way he takes in the sight of you on top of him, the way you shut your eyes and moan loudly as you take in more and more of him, the way you bite your swollen lip as you moan for him.  

His eyes are wide, his dick is already twitching inside of you, the feeling of your tight, wet walls engulfing him almost throws him over the edge already because fuck, it’s you on top of him, it’s you sinking down on his cock, it’s you. He can’t believe that this is real, that this isn’t just another one of his dreams. 

“Mhmm Eddie,” you moan as you slam down onto his cock, letting him split you open. 

The moment he feels you clenching around him, he gasps, snapping out of his trance, he sits up, grabbing your hips roughly to keep you from moving. 

You open your eyes, a flash of insecurity washing over your face. 

“W-What, don’t you like–”

“Sweetheart, if you move right now, I’m gonna fucking bust, give me a second,” he whimpers, closing his eyes as he tries to concentrate on not cumming too quickly. He leans closer, pressing his chest against yours as he slides his hands up your bare back, pressing his lips to your skin. Kissing your throat, your neck, your jaw and down your chest. 

You wrap your arms around him, leaning closer, you bury your face in his neck, giving him a second to adjust to the feeling. You breathe in his scent, his cologne, his aftershave, the smell of cigarettes that always lingers. You kiss his skin and suck on it a little, wanting nothing more than to mark him up as yours. A whine leaves your lips when you start to move your hips, circling him. 

Eddie’s mouth waters, he moans your name loudly. He couldn't believe he could have you this way. The beating inside his chest is almost too uncomfortable for him to properly breathe.

Your hair is in his face, the smell of your shampoo and perfume filling his senses, driving him even crazier. You pull back, arching your back in pleasure and closing your eyes as you bite your lip with a moan. 

Before he can even react, you start moving, bouncing on his cock desperately. He watches wide eyed, with nothing but love and desperation in his eyes. 

“Am I dreaming right now?” He mumbles, unable to stop the whimper from escaping when you bounce harder. “Is this real? Baby, please tell me it is.”

You grab his hands, pressing them against your boobs “uh huh.” You keep bouncing on his cock, desperately. Surprised by your own self, by how desperate you are, right now. You’ve never been this feral before, and it has to do with the fact that since the very beginning you weren’t allowed to. 

He watches you, staring at the way your face contorts in pleasure, the way your tits bounce as he grabs at them, the way his cock disappears in your body. Fuck. This really is a dream come true. Suddenly, a flip switches inside of him, he grabs your waist and flips you over, getting on top of you. 

You open your eyes, stunned at the feral look that you see in his eyes for the first time. 

“I’m gonna do what I’ve wanted to do to you for a long time now.”

Before you can even say or ask anything, he holds your hips tighter than before and starts pounding into you, turning you into a dumb mess.

“Fuck,” he growls as his hips snap against yours and he fucks into you roughly, you feel so good, so fucking good. 

You can’t even form any words or sentences anymore, your mind is in a haze, your eyes barely staying open anymore, all you can do is moan and watch in awe how he fucks you in a way you’ve always dreamed of. His pace is brutal, his cock is splitting you open so perfectly. 

His hands are soft on you, his eyes look into yours in awe, with nothing but love but his hips move roughly.

He grabs your hands, pinning your wrists down beside your head, earning another loud moan from you. You love it. You love how rough he is with you, how he is fucking you so disrespectfully. He can tell by the look in your eyes, the fire behind them, the lust that keeps getting stronger and stronger with each rough thrust. You’re getting wetter, soaking his cock completely. 

You feel his breath on your lips as he presses his forehead against yours.

You wrap your legs around his waist, breathing heavily as he lets go of your hand, slipping his rough palm down your stomach, he presses you down before he ruts into you even faster and harder, totally knocking your breath away. 

“Feels so good,” you whimper as your eyes well up with a new wave of tears and your mouth begins to water. 

Pride swells in his chest, his heart almost busts. You are trusting him enough to do this with him. You are letting him touch you. You are letting him fuck you, make love to you. All his insides feel on fire, love and lust is all that he feels. His heart flutters in his chest when you look at him with tear filled and pleading eyes. You’re getting tighter and tighter around him. You try to raise yourself up on your elbows, only to fall back down when another wave of pleasure washes over you. Your stomach feels on fire, your legs are already shaking, you’re close, so close, so soon. 

He looks so good. With his cheeks so flushed, his eyes so dark, his pale skin that you want to kiss and lick, his arms that have gotten more muscular since he started working at the shop, his moans that drive you fucking crazy. 

One, two, three more thrusts and you can already no longer hold back, squeezing him tightly as you cum without even having to touch your clit. 

“Oh my god,” Eddie moans, not stopping his movements. “Just like that, sweetheart. Let go for me.” 

Your high pitched moans fill the van, the wet, squelching noises as he slams his cock in and out of you, not stopping as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“D-Don’t stop!” You sob, getting even needier despite the two orgasms he just coaxed out of you. “Please, Eddie!” 

He loves to hear you beg for him. He loves the way your body feels beneath his, so perfect and right. He loves the way you feel wrapped around his dick, like you were made just for him. Your juices are dripping out of you, making everything sound even filthier. He’s surprised by the way he’s able to hold himself back, the way he hasn’t busted in his pants while eating you out. He could cum just by listening to your moans. He is obsessed with you.

You are so needy for him. You won’t look away from him, refusing to shut your eyes, even as tears start to run down your cheeks and drool slips past your lips, you keep looking at him with that fucking innocent look in your eyes. 

As though that isn’t hot enough already. You grab his hand, raising it up towards your mouth and you wrap your lips around the fingers that were knuckles deep inside of you just moments ago. Your eyes roll back as you flick your tongue around them and start sucking. 

This almost makes him lose it. He almost halts all his movements as his eyes grow wider than ever. Holy fucking shit. 

“Mmmh.”

Your walls flutter around him, squeezing him tighter than before, causing him to growl in response. 

“Y-You’re –” he pauses, unable to find the right words as he watches you in disbelief, how you release his fingers and move his hand down to your throat, looking up with glossy eyes. You want him to choke you. 

His sweet ‘innocent’ best friend isn’t so sweet and innocent after all. You’re a closeted little freak. He should’ve known that there was a hidden sight to you. He should’ve known that you weren’t ‘just’ staring at the handcuffs on his wall for no reason. You’re a naughty and dirty little freak. 

He wraps his fingers around your throat, not enough to choke you, but hard enough. The sight of it only turns him more feral. He pounds you harder, letting all the frustrations out from the day and you’re loving every second of it. Both your moans are getting louder and needier. He smashes lips against yours, kissing you roughly and deeply as his free hand slips down your stomach. 

“You’re so perfect,” he murmurs between kisses. 

You wrap your arms around him, closing your legs around his waist, you feel the familiar coil in your stomach again and it takes you by surprise. He presses his fingertips against your clit, making you shudder and twitch, you’re sensitive, so fucking sensitive but it feels so good. 

“I-I’m, I can’t believe this is real,” he moans, rubbing your clit. His breath hitches in his throat, knowing that he won’t last any longer. 

You dig your nails into his back, the moment his thrusts get slower but deeper, deeper than before. He tears out whimpers and sobs from you. You have never felt anything like this before. 

He rams inside of you, fingers overstimulating your sensitive clit. 

“I-I’m gonna cum, where do you want me–”

“Inside! Please cum inside of me, Eddie!” 

“Are you sure?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Yes, yes, please!”

“Fuck,” he growls in utter shock and pleasure, he kisses you again. You gasp against his lips, one hand reaching into his curls, tugging at his hair and scratching his back with your other hand when he makes you cum again. He groans so loud against you. 

You’re shocked, confused and in so much pleasure that it makes you cry. How did he make you cum so many times in one round? You didn’t even know that it was possible to have multiple orgasms, you only ever achieved one with Steve, and sometimes not even that. 

He spills inside of you with a loud moan, coating your walls with his seed. He doesn’t move away from you, he keeps kissing you, slowing down his movements. You are twitching beneath him, whining and whitering. 

His heart is beating faster than ever, your walls are pulsating around him as he fills you up with his cum. He whimpers into the kiss. He has never done this before and you are the only one he ever wants to do this again with, in fact, he would do this all fucking night if you let him. 

Neither of you want to stop, neither of you want this moment to end but the lack of air makes you break the kiss. Eddie lets go of your throat and after a few more kisses to your face, he pushes himself up, pulling out of you and letting himself fall on his back beside you but not without pulling you into his chest. 

You are both breathing heavily, both coming from the high. Soft sighs fall from your lips and you keep your eyes closed for a long moment. There’s no thoughts in your mind yet, not doubts, no fears, nothing – nothing yet. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie whispers as he stares at the ceiling before he glances at you, with a slight fear in his chest, scared to see regret in your eyes but instead he sees a lazy smile on your lips. 

“That was –”

“Fucking amazing,” he breathes, finishing your sentence. 

You giggle and it makes his heart soar. 

“Yeah, really fucking amazing,” smile and turn your head, you open your eyes and look at him. Taking in the sight of his sweat coated forehead, the way his bangs stick to his forehead, the way sweat dribbles down his body, the way he is staring at you with awe in his eyes. 

“We should’ve done that a long time ago,” you whisper. 

He raises his brows, eyes lighting up at your words. Eddie knew you wouldn’t treat him like other girls did before, yet the fear still lingered, that you would push him away, that you would regret it but instead, you lean closer and kiss his cheek. 

You keep looking into his brown eyes, unable to fight the smile off your lips after what happened. There is no doubt inside of you, none of it yet, not when he keeps looking at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. 

You snuggle closer to him, kissing his chest softly as his hand finds its way into your hair and he starts to play with it gently. 

“Hey sweetheart?” He asks after a moment of silence.

“Yes?” 

“That girl at the bar earlier, she was Jeff’s girlfriend. He was there too, by the way. He was in the restroom when you came in.” 

He tells you this without a hint of smugness behind his words, even though he now knows that you were jealous. He could’ve teased you for it, made fun of you for assuming something and getting jealous over nothing. But, instead his voice is soft, reassuring. He doesn’t want you to feel jealous, he doesn’t want you to doubt yourself. 

“Oh,” you whisper, smiling when he kisses the top of your head.

You lay like this for a while, with your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, just enjoying each other’s company, not wanting it to end just yet. But when the thunder sounds through the night, shaking you both out of your little bubble, you realize how late it’s gotten. You only reluctantly start getting dressed, helping one another with your clothes, all while giggling and stealing kisses from each other. You are trying to ignore the fact that you are very sticky between your legs, though, you don’t mind it for a bit. 

Despite the giddiness that rushes through him, he can’t help but feel a little fear when you both get back in the front. Unlike the drive earlier, this one is filled with music and comfortable silence, even when he’s nervous about what will happen once this night is over. 

If he only glanced at you, he’d see the way you’re smiling, the way your eyes are glowing from all the happiness. 

He is tapping the steering wheel, he feels happy, happier than he ever did but he’s also scared, scared to look at you and see that you have come down from the haze, that you are back to thinking about Steve, that you are regretting it all. 

When he parks the van in your driveway, he takes a deep breath and turns to look at you only to see you staring at him already, with the cutest and brightest smile on your face. His shoulders slump in relief and his heart feels ten times lighter. 

You unbuckle the seatbelt, licking your lips as you move closer to him.

“Hi,” you whisper. 

Butterflies flutter in his stomach. He tilts his head, leaning in, “hi,” he smiles. 

You meet in the middle, closing your eyes as your lips lock. All the other kisses before were rough, passionate, fast. This one is sweet and soft, just perfect and it lasts for a while, even when you try to pull away, Eddie keeps stealing kisses. 

“Eddie,” you giggle. “I have to go, you have to let me go.” 

He cups your cheeks softly, smiling sadly as he leans in again, “I can’t let you go,” he whispers between pecks. “I don’t want this night to end.”

“It won’t be the last, Eds.”

Warmth fills him, his heart makes a jump. 

“Can I come inside?” He asks, not wanting to spend the night without you.

“You already did,” you giggle, making him laugh in surprise. 

“Well shit, sweetheart,” he smirks as he plays with your hair, caressing your cheek, continuing to peck your lips. 

If you knew you could feel this happy, this content, this fulfilled just by doing this, you would have done it ages ago. 

Fear, doubt and all your insecurities, kept holding you back from finding this with him. For once, you took the leap and you couldn’t be any happier than you are now as you sit here and steal kisses from Eddie.

“My mom is home.”

“So? I stayed a thousand times before with your mom at home.”

You giggle, this time it’s you stealing a kiss from him. 

“I know but this is different,” you whisper. “I don’t want to be quiet.” 

His eyes widen. He’s gone to heaven. The girl of his dreams, the girl he loves, the girl he thought he had no chance with, wants him. 

You grab his face, giving him one last kiss before you pull away, “I’ll see you tomorrow, handsome.” 

He stares at you dreamily, love filled with eyes and a smile that he can’t hide. Your hair is a mess, your makeup smudged but your skin is glowing and you look so fucking beautiful. 

You open the door but before you step out, you turn around and kiss him again, grabbing his cheeks and peppering his face with kisses, making both yourself and him giggle. 

“Good night, Eddie,” you murmur against his lips, looking into his pretty eyes. 

He pinches your chin between his fingers, stealing another kiss. 

“Good night, sweetheart,” he whispers, smiling at you. You pull back and get out of the van, a small squeal leaving your lips when the rain touches you again, unlike before, you now feel the coldness of it. Eddie laughs when you close the door and start running towards the house, turning around one more time to blow him a kiss. 

Eddie shakes his head with a smile, chuckling as he blows you a kiss back. He waits until you’re inside the house. The moment he sees the door shutting, his smile grows wider and he pumps his fist into the air as feelings of joy rush through him. 

You are barely able to contain the giggles as you quietly make your way upstairs, smiling brightly. Your cheeks are flushed, your skin is burning, your heart and stomach both fluttering. You bite your lip as you silently walk into your room and close the door softly. 

You press your back against the wooden door, you close your eyes and raise your hand up to your mouth, touching your lips that still tingle from all the kisses. 

Another breathless, happy, giggle escapes you. 

You can’t stop smiling. 

You tilt your head up, looking at the ceiling as you think about the way it felt to be kissed and touched by him. Your heart flutters all over again. 

For the first time in a long time, you feel happy again, your heart full of love. 

Though, when you look around the room and your eyes fall on the picture frame in your bookshelf, your smile falls when your eyes lock with the man in your picture. 

Steve. 

Your heart drops a little and your smile vanishes completely. 

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @succubusmunson @take-everything-you-can @trashmouth-richie @xxhellfirebunnyxx @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan @sherrylyn628

[buckgasms]

Dr's. Barnes and Rogers (Part 2)

Ok so we all really enjoyed part 1 amiright? I've done part 2 and it's still not done because this is now my new life 🎀

I am tagging a few people I hope I got everyone! @pattiemac1 @plusultra-kitten @marvelsgirl4ever @saranghaey @xonickibaby @vickie5446 @sarcastickiddo

My warning for you is it's mature and it's Doctor Kink

You had decided to at least investigate the offer made to you by the Doctors a bit further, so you called up Dr Barnes and he happily scheduled a visit for the next evening.

You had a lot of questions, but you were also quite excited at the idea of having a baby and living a potential life of luxury all in the name of science. You were also confused as to why the two doctors were the only candidates for this trial. Surely that wasn't ethical?

⚕️

Back in the familiar office, tonight the air felt more electric with potential. The two doctors, Bucky and Steve as they asked you to call them from now on, were pleased you were there and were keen to make you feel comfortable.

"So... I want to do this. I think I do anyway. But I have questions..."

They both grin broadly and wave a hand at your questions. "That's such good news sweetheart" Bucky says, a bright smile lighting up his face. "Don't worry about the small print just yet! As one potential candidate we need to do a few tests before you sign up!"

You smile a little at him and his excitement, but couldn't help feeling a little worried at the idea of other candidates. What if someone else got the place?

"Perhaps we can get the ball rolling now Buck?" Steve says helpfully and they smile at each other. "Great idea! Let's get to work..." You stutter a little as he takes your hand and pulls you back into his examination room. "Wait you want to do this now?" You manage to blurt out, scanning between them both in a daze. "No time like the present hmm? The sooner we know, the sooner we can answer those questions and get your paperwork started!"

Bucky whirls around the room and grabs various bits of equipment that you don't really notice whilst Steve just stands there and chuckles at his friend. He notices your trepidation and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder gently. "Don't worry honey, its all normal for these kinds of things. We're here to help you."

You smile as Bucky finishes his prep and they both head to the door. "Sweetheart I need to you strip down totally for this one, and then legs in the stirrups okay? I'll explain the rest as we go." And with that they leave the room.

You stand there shell shocked for a moment. You had planned so many questions and not at all for a physical exam this evening. But you supposed it made sense. Not point signing up for something if you weren't actually able to do it right? Plus the added fear of having this opportunity stolen by someone else made you keen to get going!

You slipped your clothes off and tried to get comfortable again on the bed, legs resting in the stirrups. You covered your chest with your arms and wiggled in place, feeling very exposed.

After a moment they both came back and were less subtle about appreciating your naked form. "Told you didn't I?" Bucky muttered and Steve just hummed in approval as they took their places. Bucky between your legs and Steve up by your head.

"So we have to do two things in this examination. One is to check your general health, and the other is your reaction to stimulus. All you have to do is relax and go with it, ok?" Steve spoke above you, placing his hand right at your shoulder and you could only nod as you heard Bucky pull his gloves on. "Oh...okay, I'll do my best..." You mutter as his hands smooth over your thighs.

Bucky asks Steve to come and look at your folds, pushing them open as he rubs fingers over them. "Hmm already stimulated?" He mutters to Bucky and they both chuckle before he heads back up to you.

"Already doing so well honey" he says catching your concerned expression before pulling on his own gloves. Steve then takes his time examining your upper half, pressing into your neck and stomach, measuring your heartbeat and blood pressure all whilst Bucky is taking notes and watching your exposed heat.

Then Steve's fingers start squeezing at your breasts, he pulls and tweaks your nipples making you whimper and squirm. "Ok easy sweetness, does that feel good?" You struggle with an answer until Bucky taps your thigh slightly firmly.

"You have to tell us the truth. If you don't give us an accurate response we can't tailor the insemination process for the optimum results. So tell us what feels good and what you need ok?"

You nod and let out an exhale. "That felt good" you pant as Steve continues his tweaking and twisting. As he does, Bucky rubs his fingers through your folds, now embarrassingly soaked which he doesn't hesitate to mention. "Think you like that a lot don't you sweetheart?"

"Hmm yes!" You groan as he rubs soft circles around your clit and your legs shake in the stirrups. Steve leans down and continues to torment you. "What about if I sucked on your tits honey? Would you like that? While Dr Barnes plays with you?"

You whine and nod as he chuckles at you, moving away to latch on to your sensitive buds. Bucky tuts as he watches on, before grabbing a vibrator and pressing it to your sensitive clit. Your hips buck as he turns the dial up and you squeak at Steve's mouth sucking at your nipples.

"I need to... Can I please come?" You strain as the pressure in your tummy builds towards a peak. Bucky hums in consideration before pulling the vibrator away. "No sweetness, we need to build you up a little more. Plenty of time for that later."

You pant as Steve also pulls away leaving your nipples swollen and sensitive in his wake. You wriggle in position, desperate for some relief but finding none in your current predicament.

"I want.... Need more, please" you moan, not caring how desperate you sound. This is already the best experience of your life and you don't want it to end.

"Tell us what you need now sweetheart" Bucky says, gently tickling at your thigh, running painfully close to touching your heat. You almost sob as you try and maintain your dignity, "just wanna come..." You feel him pinch your soft skin, "you want to come, please Dr. Barnes" he says darkly, but it sends a thrill over your body. "Please, Dr Barnes, please can I come?"

They both chuckle and settle at the lower half of you, where they promptly ignore you and talk between themselves. "I think that one to open her up?" Steve says motioning to something on the table next to him. "You wanna taste?" Bucky says and you feel two fingers probe your heat and you watch as they suck their gloved fingers, moaning as they enjoy the taste of you.

"Do you think I should try...?" Bucky says and Steve chuckles before they glance at you. Steve sinks his fingers into your pussy and curls his fingers making you moan and nibble on your fingers. "Hey beautiful? You want something your mouth and I'll make you come like this?" His thumb circles your clit and your eyes roll backward.

"Yes please Doctor Rogers, please" you beg and they laugh again as Bucky moves away and comes up to your head. He carefully adjusts the bed so your laying flat and pulls so your head hangs off the edge. He strokes your hair gently as your fingers grab at his trousers, pulling them downwards and moaning as his cock springs free. You struggle to grab it so he guides it into your waiting mouth, groaning as you immediately suck, reacting to Steve's torturous fingers.

"Holy fuck" he growls as he watches his cock disappear into your mouth, throat bulging as he slowly fucks you. You moan around him as Steve is more fast paced, jerking his fingers and rubbing your clit harshly as he grabs you towards your peak. You feel hands pawing at your breasts again as your legs shake and hands claw at leather.

"Think we've found a sweet spot here" Steve says as he feels you flutter around his fingers. When your face is covered in spit and tears Bucky pulls out of your hungry mouth and watches with hot desire. You moan and whine, "Please can I come, please?" Steve's fingers jerk and suddenly you are coming hard the sensation is enough to have you shaking as it ripples through your whole body.

Bucky lifts you back on to the bed properly so you lay more comfortably. He perches on the bed next to you and strokes a gentle hand across your face and hair. "You are doing so well sweetheart, we need to do one more check and then we'll have our results ok?"

You are on cloud nine as you nod at him, managing to murmer a quiet, "yes doctor Barnes." Your moan becomes louder as you feel a rubber cock press against your pussy and stretch you out before pressing further in. "It's big..." You whine and he strokes your face again. "I know sweetie but I know you can take it. Gonna need to be a good girl and take it for us ok? Don't want to miss out do you?"

You moan again as Steve starts pumping the cock into you, a steady but slow pace. You feel every inch of it filling you up, but it feels so good. Bucky strokes your hair again and you try and focus on what he's saying, "so you like having your pretty tits played with hmm? And a cock in your mouth, is that right sweetie?" You feel heat rush to your cheeks but you know you have to admit it. You want to be a good patient after all.

"Yes Doctor, it...ah.. it felt really good..." He smiles and leans down where you instinctively kiss him, his lips capturing yours in a breathtaking kiss. He breaks it as you whine at Steve's actions, increasing the pace below. "I think you should thank Dr. Rogers for making you come by letting him use this pretty mouth? What do you think?"

Your head floats as you find yourself nodding enthusiastically at the idea. He smiles warmly and moves away whispering something to his colleague as they swap places. Befor Steve has even got to you, you are hanging over the edge of the bed, ready and waiting.

"Eager little thing aren't you?" He chuckles, guiding his cock into your mouth as Bucky had, slowly choking you on his long length. As you sucked, you felt the another rubber head pressing at your ass and squirmed at the sensation.

"Easy honey, Dr Barnes knows what he's doing, just relax" Steve reassured you but they both waited until your body relaxed again before continuing. In moments you are being fucked from both ends, rubber filling your ass and pussy, and Dr Rogers working your mouth.

You squeal around him, pleasure rocketing through your body as the pace the set makes the table beneath you creak and your body shudder. You hands claw at Steve's thighs and your hips buck, chasing the actions of Bucky. It doesn't take long with the overstimulation of your senses before you are on the peak of pleasure. As Bucky did, Steve removes himself as you cry out, your climax crashing through your body, vision turning white as he coaxes you through it.

You lay there panting for a moment as they whisper hushed tones, very excited by the sounds of things. You can barely move for the pleasure still running through your body but you slowly come back to your self as a glass of water is pressed into your hands and a blanket is laid across your body .

"Sweetheart, that was amazing, you did so well. Do you feel ok?" Bucky asked stroking your arm and brushing your hair out of your face. "I'm not complaining about any of that" you giggle in between sips of cold water.

They both chuckle and pull up a chair each next to you while you relax. "So I think we agree that you are a perfect fit for the trial, are you still happy to take part?" Heat rushes to your face nod shyly behind your glass, giggling a little at their pink eager faces.

"But can I ask something now?" They nod as you sit up a little in your seat. "Are you the donors in this trial?" Steve coughs a little and blushes a deeper shade of pink. Bucky decides to come clean, a bit, and goes back to stroking your hair.

"We are sweetness. We know it's not usual, but this is our experiment and we want to be involved in every aspect. From choosing the right woman, to providing the sperm and anything else needed along the way."

"And what is this experiment in aid of?" You ask, but he brushes the question aside. "That's the boring bit, don't worry about that, just know that if you want to be involved, you are fully accepted."

You smile after a moment. "Ok let's sign the paperwork..."

Part Three

[maelialuv]

Call It What You Want, Steve Harrington

Summary: Going to a party at your bully's house had to be your worst nightmare come true. But you know what they say; don't get over someone, get under them.

Warnings: SMUT! slow burn filth. I need a hot shower level. breeding kink if you squint. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!) fem!reader :)

NOTE: some characters have been aged up, like chrissy, so that everyone is in senior year at the same time :)

Word Count: 5.9K

You loved a party. Couldn't get enough of the heat of a group of people, the roar of laughter overlapping with the excited chatter of friends reuniting. The inevitable crash of dropped glass making the whole crowd hush before resuming their nestled talk. You were, in every sense of the word, a party girl. But that wasn't always the case.

Before this year - your senior year at Hawkins High- you'd been riding the coat tails of your childhood best friend, Nancy Wheeler, all throughout your school life. You were the sad little puppy that followed her around, but Nance never minded. She was always happy to have you by her side, or just behind her. Everywhere she went, you were there a few seconds later. That was until she started hanging out with, and later dating your sworn enemy.

Steve Harrington.

The guy had tormented you since middle school, along with his minions Tommy and Carol. The two of you used to make fun of people like them, stuck up and out of touch, and then she became one of them. Just like that. You could tell she felt guilty, by the way she would send you a furrowed glance at lunch as if to say 'I'm sorry, I have to!', like she had no control over who she surrounded herself with. As if she had no choice but to curl up beside the guy that broke your elbow in seventh grade.

Like she couldn't help but fall into the arms of the guy that had made your life a living hell for more than six years.

You still occasionally spoke to Nancy. After all, you lived across from one another, and thus had to see each other at some points. She would sometimes invite you to study, but you had started to make excuses after you had seen Harrington climb the garage roof and into her window, not liking the thought of his impulsive tendency for a romantic rendezvous interrupting a study session whilst you were there. You didn't want to put Nacy through the grief.

Your 'Lost Lamb' persona left you the moment you started hanging out with someone you never thought you'd consider a friend in your wildest dreams, or nightmares, Chrissy Cunningham. Expecting her to be a total Queen Bee, she was nothing of the sort. She was warm and kind and sisterly, all the things you missed from your friendship with Nancy. She sat with you at lunch, went to the movies with you, and eventually secured you a seat at the table with the rest of the cheerleaders, their boyfriends and the rest of their gang. They welcomed you with unexpected sincerity, and that was that.

You started going to house parties on Saturdays, diners on Wednesday nights with the girls, study sessions with some of the basketball team that couldn't quite pass a class or two. People waved at you in the halls, remembering your name for once. You and Chrissy would have sleep overs, and you felt the hole in your heart that Nancy left slowly start to heal. More or less.

But then you got that stupid invite.

"Gotcha!" Chrissy closed your locker door, scaring you senseless.

"Jesus, Chris!" you stacked your books in your arms. She was smiling wide, as always, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What?" you said, a raised brow and half a smirk making its way across your lips.

"Before you say anything, just let me talk," she made tiny praying hands to her chest, puppy dog eyes gleaming. "Promise?"

"Okay," you sighed.

"There's a party this weekend, and we're all going, and we all really want you to come." You looked at her with raised brows, as if to say 'go on?'. "It's Steve Harrington's party."

You'd managed to avoid almost every one of Harrington's parties with some believable, and some not so believable, excuses in the past year since your surge in popularity. "I don't know, Chris, I'm so busy with college applications this weekend-"

"Who needs them!" she cried, "We all know you're gonna get into Yale or Hardvard or Brown or whichever super crazy smart college you want to go to." She grabbed your hand, swaying it back and forth, like a child begging their mother for a candy bar at the grocery store. "Pretty please?" she did the puppy eyes again, knowing it would sway you to agree.

"Fine."

"Yay! I'll come to your house at nine tomorrow to get you!"

And that's how you found yourself in your old bullies house, red solo cup in hand, full of whatever lethal punch one of the football players had concocted. Already tipsy, lingering by the kitchen so that the constant stream of drinks wouldn't slow. Bodies moved ungracefully around you, shimmying and shoving through to the living room or to the ruckus of the back yard where people were throwing each other into Steve Harrington's large pool. You sipped on your drink thoughtfully, feeling the confidence built over the last year slip away from you as you returned to your old wallflower state.

"Why are you hiding in here, silly?" Chrissy came to your side, the shimmery pink eyeshadow on her lids making her green eyes luminous in the low light of the kitchen. "The gang's all next door, come on!" She grabbed your hand with surprising strength, dragging you into the large living room. Deep sofas lined the walls, each with a basketball player and their girlfriends curled up on one. On the one furthest from you, was Nancy and Steve. Next to them, Tommy and Carol. It made your stomach turn to see her with him. You avoided her persistent gaze. But Harrington's gaze, raking you in and eyes darting up and down, was harder to lose. He stared at you adamantly.

When the buzz of chatter died down, a few of the basketball players and their girlfriends left to find more entertaining activities, it was just a handful of people left in the living room. Including you, Nance and Steve. Tommy had the glint of wicked amusement in his eyes, and it made you uncomfortable. "I know what we should do," he said, eyes falling to you. "Let's play a little game." Carol perked up beside him, as if their minds were connected in some twisted way. "Yeah, let's do something fun."

"Games, come on guys," Jason, Chrissy's boyfriend, spoke up. "We're not in middle school anymore." Carol got her own wicked smile.

"Oh, certainly not." her eyes fell on you , analysing how your style had changed. You were wearing dark make up, smoking out your eyes and giving them an alluring pull. You showed off skin, knew how to present yourself. Her eyes narrowed, her smile a venomous sneer. "No, if this were middle school, I wouldn't be caught dead at a party with her."

You simply cocked your head to the side, giving carol a tight lipped sarcastic smile. Inside, you felt thirteen again. Instinctively, you grabbed your elbow, as if you could feel the pain of the break there now. Tommy barked out a laugh at Carol's comment. "Yeah, who knew the black sheep would turn into a black swan, huh?"

You felt gross as he raked his eyes over you, unashamed as he stared at the place where the hem of your dress ended.

"Fuck off, Tommy." you retorted, voice calm but heart racing a million miles a minute behind your ribcage. You felt like you were a lamb on a platter for the lions, ready for the slaughter.

"She speaks!" Carol squawked. Next to them on the couch, Nancy squirmed. Never one for confrontation, she excused herself to grab a drink. You caught her eye as she left. She looked guilty. You wanted to follow her, grab her by the shoulders and tell her to wake up. Tell her that her friends, and her boyfriend, were assholes. But she never listened before. She just couldn't admit it to herself.

"Been a while since we've seen you, babe. Where've you been hiding those legs, huh?" Carol smacked her gum as she spoke, obnoxious and loud.

"I found some better people to hang out with." Beside you, Chrissy stuck her arm over your shoulder. Her face was hard. It made her look older, the serious glare that she was sending Carol. Carol sneered at her, and the expression aged her terribly.

Steve caught your eye, shifted hard away from Tommy. He was gripping his beer with a tight knuckled grip. His eyes slithered down your neck, over your chest, and landed similarly to Tommy's. You grabbed the hem of your dress and yanked downward.

"One of the cool kids now, are you? Not following Wheeler around like a dog anymore?" Tommy took a long sip of his beer.

"We drifted apart." you said simply.

"Oh yeah? Since when?" Carol chimed in again and you felt your blood boil beneath your skin. Steve continued his obvious oggling.

"Since she traded her spine for a shiny new basketball player"

Nancy stood by the door, drink in hand. Her eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights. The whole group erupted into astonished laughter, Chrissy struggling to hold back as she clutched her stomach. Steve glared at the floor, as if willing it to say a comeback that would sting you back. Nancy sat down beside him, silent.

"Woah, you gonna take that Wheeler?" Carol guffawed.

She remained silent as a mouse at Steve's side.

"Nance was never one for speaking up anyway. "

You grabbed your cup and flittered out of the living room, the atmosphere suffocating you. You needed another drink, a cigarette, and some alone time. Drink secured, and obscenely strong, you crept up the stairs to the second floor. Once you found a room that didn't stink of puke or had two people sucking face in, an ensuite bathroom, you locked the door and sat in the tub.

Shutting the shower curtain, doc martens resting on the taps, you lit your cigarette. You still couldn't believe you were in Steve Harrington's house - let alone one of his bathtubs - after everything that went down all those years. Yet there you were. Nancy lost to the dark side, you in with the cool kids. Your middle school self wouldn't believe it. You rested your eyes for a moment, breathing in the smoke and taking gentle sips of your drink.

Your thoughts were interrupted by muffled yelling in the next room. You stubbed out your cigarette, trying to get out of the tub as quietly as possible, when you heard your name. It was Steve and Nancy, and they were fighting. About you.

"Why are you bringing this up now?" Steve said, exasperated.

"You guys were awful to her, Steve!"

"Yeah, like you did anything about it, huh Nance?"

You recoiled back into the tub, feeling invasive but caring more about what Nancy had to say for herself than your moral compass. It was a years' worth of pain cementing your form in the tub, ear preened toward the doorway.

"You tormented her!"

"And you watched! If anything, that's worse!"

"How is that worse than what you, YOU, did to her Steve?!

There was a pause. You could imagine Nancy's face; pouted lips, furrowed brow, cheeks blotchy from an ill-fated attempt to hold back her angry tears. Steve laughed humourlessly. It was a cutting sound, and you could hear Nancy take deep breaths.

"What we did, sure, it was stupid. Do I regret it? Of course, we never meant to get her hurt back then."

"You're still awful to her!"

"And there's the kicker," Steve chuckled darkly. "She always stuck up for herself. That's why we did it, we knew she'd give us some fun." There was a long moment where no one spoke. "You never stood up for her once, Nancy."

His words hung in the air like smoke, seeping into your clothes and clogging your throat.

"You never defended her, then or now."

Nancy was flustered, stuttering over her words.

"You never stood up for your best friend? Thats...awful, Nance."

You could hear as Nancy struggled to find a defence, as she used to with you. She would blubber to you, relaying how guilty she felt with enough tears that you eventually ended up comforting her, forgetting that you'd even come to her for help.

"Fuck you, Steve." You could hear as she grabbed her things, storming out of the room with vibrant language. The loud declaration that "it was fucking over" made a laugh - vindictive and partly delighted - rise in your chest.

You smacked a hand over your mouth in realisation. Your movements froze, fear jolting through your bones as you heard Steve pattering about the next room. His movements stopped abruptly as your foot knocked a bottle of shampoo off the edge of the tub.

In a split second - idiotic- decision, you decide to make a run for it. You rip back the curtain, jumping to the floor and striding for the door, the door you had so stupidly locked. A warm hand grabbed your wrist in a vice like grip.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

His voice was low, deep. It echoed in your chest. It made your heart thump. It made your blood boil.

"Get your hand off me." you seethed. His grip remained, making the skin of your wrist tingle. His touch was firm yet feather light. Unwilling to let you go, but not trying to hurt you. When his hand remained unmoving, you struggled against his grasp. "Get off, Steve."

He was leaning over you, shoulder blocking the door. He hovered above you, taunting, as he looked you over again. His gaze was relentless, inescapable. Confusing.

"Let go, Steve." You sighed out, defeated and embarrassed as he held you in place. You felt unnervingly calm. Strangely glued to the floor under his honey brown eyes as they bored into your own. You wanted nothing more than to move your feet - maybe stomp on his own so he would release the grip on your hand- and get out of the claustrophobic bathroom. You risked a glance up at the boy.

Christ.

Steve was never unattractive. Never had an awkward phase. He was always tall, athletic and tanned. Your hatred for the boy hadn't blinded you to the painfully obvious. But in the dim green light of the bathroom, shadows accentuating sharp cheekbones and jawline, you saw it. Saw it as the other girls did. Steve Harrington was gorgeous. He was painfully attractive, in every sense of the word. From the symmetrical lines of his cupids bow to the dark lashes framing honey eyes, he was hypnotic. And he had you completely under his spell.

"How much of that did you hear?"

His voice was aggravatingly quiet, gentle. Intoxicating. There was a gap between the two of you, small enough that you could feel the warmth of Steve's breath on your cheek as he spoke. You felt like a child being scolded by a parent, guilt driving you to complete honesty. It was the same tone that would make you confess to a teacher, had the same soft lilt.

"Enough." You replied, and your voice was hoarse. Rough, like you needed water desperately. You did, you felt as though your throat was bone dry. "Enough to hear you chew out Nancy."

Steve's eyes were inexplicably soft as he looked at you, and at the mention of Nancy they hardened almost imperceptibly. "Yeah, well," he sighed, languid and frustrated, "that was gonna happen, no matter if it was about you or not." When you raised as brow - both in shock at his willingness to detail the state of his relationship, and as a sign to continue- he went on. "All we do is fight."

"Hmm."

""What?"

"Karma came and bit you both in the ass."

The look Steve gave you made you feel bad for saying it, but it was overruled by the vindictive joy you felt at hurting his feelings. The way he backed up slightly, as if he'd not expected you to say something, made your heart jolt a bit. He'd been so awful to you for so long that the knowledge of his relationship being far from perfect made a smile creep its way across your lips.

Steve huffed, frustrated again.

"You are incredibly hard to understand." He said, the same sickeningly sweet voice at play. "You're very different...to how you used to be."

"You mean I'm not a loser anymore?" You quirked a brow.

"You were never a loser," he stepped closer to you, hand still on yours. "You were just...," he trailed off. His gaze was unashamed, staring straight down at your lips as he spoke. "Different."

'What a crock of shit,' you thought. This coming from the guy that bullied you all throughout middle school, even through high school. it was the biggest load of bullshit you'd ever heard. But your ears rang with the rush of blood behind your ears as your heart hammered inside your chest. Steve Harrington was a flirt, and a good one. You were experiencing his best lines. And they were working.

"Different?" there was hardly any space between the two of you now, Steve's lips brushing over yours as he shifted. You didn't stop him when his hand brushed your sides.

"Yeah," the hand that had been holding your wrist against the doorknob came up to cup your cheek. Steve's top lip was on yours as he spoke, "different."

The two of you crashed together with teeth and lips, a brawl of desperate hands and angry grudges. Fingers tangled in hair immediately, tugging and scratching. Steve tasted of smoke, beer and something innately Boyish. His hands settled at your waist, grasping the fabric of your dress there. His lips were pillowy and soft, addictive. You suddenly understood why Nancy put up with it; kissing Steve Harrington was like having your own personal drug. The kiss deepened as you shifted heads, turning for better angles and access.

Steve groaned as his tongue slid across yours, and the way he so clearly enjoyed the kiss made you feel powerful. He backed you up against the bathroom counter. "Jump," he whispered, your bottom lip between his teeth as he nipped the skin there. You did as he said, his voice husky and hypnotic, and he lifted you to rest on the sink. Legs parted, Steve rested between your open knees. One hand resting there, one working on shrugging you out of the jacket that clung to your shoulders. He pulled away from you, an amused smirk on his face as you whined, to rip the jacket away. Shoulders and neck exposed, Steve got to work on the skin there.

You were suddenly way more aware of what you were doing.

"You better not leave a mark, Harrington." you panted out, as Steve nipped a particularly sweet spot just below your ear. He chuckled, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine.

"Why?" he asked, smug lilt to his words. "Afraid of people knowing?"

"More ashamed than afraid," you said, choking on your words as Steve nipped at the skin of your throat. "Can't have people thinking just anyone can have me."

Steve pulled back, and god you melted right there. Hair a mess, eyes blown wide, and lips swollen. It was a glorious sight. "And I'm just anyone?" He was smug, overconfident. Irritatingly attractive.

"Yeah," you gripped the belt loops of his jeans, yanking forward. The bewildered look on his face made you grin. "so this stays between us."

"Aye aye, Captain."

And off you went again, lips colliding in heated snarls. There was a primal anger behind it, driving you into his strong arms as he encased you. Was this self sabotage? Maybe so, but it was the hottest thing you'd ever experienced. Steve's nimble fingers caressed their way up your back, finding the straps of your bra with ease. He snapped one against your shoulder, making you yelp and using the sound to slip his tongue back into your mouth. If it didn't make your bones feel like jelly, you would have chastised him for the cheap move. Carnal desire taking over your mind, you let your cold hands scrape up his chest, lifting the hem of his shirt to graze his stomach.

He tensed up at the touch, a stuttered breath fanning your face as he sighed. His two hands landed firm on your knees, creeping up your legs and stopping as he stroked your inner thigh with his forefingers.

"Permission to come aboard?"

You nodded, arousal coursing through you like a stake to the heart.

"Words, please...Captain."

"You find yourself funny, don't you?"

"Very." His fingers were so close yet so far from where you wanted them. "Do you want to?"

"Yes, I do."

"There we go."

He kissed you again, this time slow. It was harder than before, and as he swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, Steve slipped your underwear down your legs. He groaned into the kiss as he felt you, excitement clear by the wet patch on your panties. "God, you're wet."

You should have been embarrassed. You should have pulled your panties off the floor and run out of the house and all the way home without looking back. But you were putty in his hands as Steve slipped a finger inside of you, hooking upwards and finding that special spot almost immediately. A high pitched whine - one that shocked even you- made its way out of your mouth, muffled as you buried your head in Steve's neck as he set a slow pace. "What a pretty sound," he groaned, catching your face in his hand as you threw it back against the mirror. "You gonna keep making 'em like that?"

You nodded, breathless, and then he was out of your sight.

Steve kissed down your chest, shoving your dress over your stomach and kissing the skin as he went down. His fingers intwined with yours as they gripped the marble counter. You sat up to catch his eye, and what a pretty sight it was. Steve Harrington, pupils dilated with lust, with his head between your thighs. He kissed your thighs, and you mewled; so close yet so far.

"Please," you moaned. Embarrassment crept up on you, and you could feel the blood rush to your cheeks. "God, please Steve."

Steve dug his fingers into the skin of your thighs, toying with them. He kissed his way to your knees, enjoying the sight before him as you writhed about. "Please what?" he said, and had you not been desperate for him to bury his head between your legs you would have kicked him. He grinned as you fought the urge to beg. "What do you want?" He left surprisingly tender pecks to your knee.

"I want you."

"Where do you want me?" he was taking his time with you, partly for himself - savouring the moment, rejoicing in the way you fell apart before him- and partly to tease you into insanity.

"Jesus Christ," you groaned as he nipped the supple skin of your thighs.

"Steve is just fine." He laughed, putting you out of your misery as he licked one broad stripe up your centre. It was the stupidest, most reckless thing you could be doing, which made it even hotter as Steve hooked his hands under your hips, holding you on top of the counter as your legs wrapped round his head and your hands wove themselves into his hair. Almost immediately you understood Steve's reputation, and you felt a pang of possessiveness as his lips encased your clit, humming as he went. Your back arched off the tiles, mouth agape in a silent 'O' shape. Harrington knew what he was doing, that much was clear as your first orgasm crept up on you.

You could hardly muster words, the only sound in the jade coloured bathroom being the obscene wet sounds and your whimpers as Steve continued to ruin you on the counter. "I'm gonna - oh shit, Steve." The way you moaned his name - like it was the only one you knew, the only one that mattered- made Steve's jeans feel impossibly tight, palming himself for something, anything to relieve himself. He was just as desperate, just as wanting, as you were - if not more. The thought of what was to come made you clench around Steve's fingers, exploding in a white hot scream on his tongue. You fell back against the mirror, hairs sticking to the sides of your face, cheeks flushed with both heat and bashfulness. Steve crept up your stomach again, stealing a kiss when he made it to your lips.

You could taste yourself as he kissed you, slow and deep. His hands swiped the hair from your face, in a gesture entirely too sweet for a boy that had just ravaged you in his bathroom. It bothered you. That wasn't part of the interaction - there was no sweetness involved. It almost took you out of the moment, but as your hips bucked into Steve's, and he let out a strangled groan, the moment was saved. As his lips found purchase on your collarbones, your hands made work of unbuttoning his shirt - purposefully slow, you enjoyed watching his stomach tense as you grazed it. The sharp intake of breath as you began unbuckling his belt made you feel powerful, made your stomach do flips. "Here?" you asked, kissing down his neck to the space where it met his shoulders, "or somewhere else?"

Steve's eyes lit up like a christmas tree at the prospect that this - whatever this was- wasn't over just yet. He gripped your hands on his belt buckle. "Not here." With little effort, he hoisted you over his shoulder - much to your shock and dismay. You swatted his back but couldn't help the swell of arousal as his arm tightened round your waist. He set you down on the edge of the bed, standing in front of you with one hand on your cheek. In the dim light of his bedroom, Steve Harrington was devastatingly handsome. The soft glow of peaches and oranges made his eyes a molten chocolate, skin peppered with a red hue from...exertion.

"It's rude to stare." he said, voice void of the smugness from before. It made your ribcage rattle, heart thudding with the weight of his stare. It felt like he was looking at your soul, and it made you shiver. The boy who'd tormented you for years, was seeing you. Staring right back at him, your hands made their way to his belt loops. It was your turn to make him writhe a bit.

"Can't help it," you said, voice all airy and entirely foreign to your ears. It dripped with a lust, husky and soft. "You're somewhat of a looker."

You ripped his jeans open, nimble hands ridding him of the garment in seconds. As you grabbed the waistband of his boxers, the outline of his cock straining against the fabric, his hand stopping you. "As amazing as that would be," he said regrettably, "if I don't get you on that bed, I think I may lose my mind." He said it so breathlessly that it made your thighs clench together. He wanted you so badly. You cocked your head to the side, half playful and half serious as you said, "Do something about it then."

Steve didn't need to be told twice. He dove into you, hand steadying your head as your lips locked together - an irritatingly perfect puzzle piece finding another. You were a tangle of legs, arms, and lips as the two of you buried yourselves in Steve Harrington's bed, ridding each other of the clothes that stopped your from touching one another completely. His knee found its home between you, shifting your legs apart to make room for hips. You were encased in Steve; his scent, the feel of his lips on your skin, his legs locking yours in place. His hips rocking into yours as he kissed your neck with sinful skill.

Your hands grew restless, tugging at the hairs at the nape of his neck as if he would understand the morse code in the pulling. "Steve," you groaned as he knocked his hips into yours, "please."

You were begging, and you were embarrassed. You couldn't bring yourself to say the words- couldn't stand the thought of asking your middle school bully to fuck you in his bed at his own party. But the boy had other ideas.

"Say it." he toyed with your clit, thumbing it as you whined. When you stayed silent, he pinched one of your nipples between his fingers. he smirked at how quickly they puckered underneath him. "Say you want me."

Your cheeks burned with shame. You couldn't - wouldn't- beg him.

He hovered over you, hands either side of your head, nose brushing yours. You could feel the ghost of his lips over your own. His hand came to rest on your chin, thumb sliding over your lip, tugging it down and letting it slide back. "Open."

You did as he said, opening your mouth wide enough for Steve to slide his thumb into your mouth, a teasing smile on his face as you swirled your tongue around it. "Say you want me to fuck you." He pulled his thumb out of your mouth slowly, grinning as it made a satisfying pop. He leaned down to the shell of your ear. "Tell me you want me to ruin you," he whispered.

The burn in the pit of your stomach raged as Steve kissed the hollow of your throat, waiting for you to speak. Your breath was shallow, eyes closed as you whispered into the air, hoping the buzz of the party below would swallow your words.

"I want you to ruin me."

Steve grinned, wolfish and smug, as he lined himself up with you, locking eyes with you as he pushed himself in. You knew you were gone when he moaned your name like a prayer, said it like it was the cure to his troubles. Like you were something to treasure. One strong arm gripped the headboard as he panted. "God," he grunted out, "you feel incredible."

There was something electric about hearing praise from the boy that tormented you for years, something wickedly delightful about watching his mouth hang open with pleasure as he bottomed out inside you. You clenched around him, desperate for any friction to satisfy the burning between your legs. "Can I move?" he groaned.

"Yes, please."

In public, Steve was an athlete. Behind closed doors, under the sheets, he was an Olympian. He set a fast pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust, deeper inside of you every time. The sounds of the party- the drunken teens stumbling, the music blaring- were drowned out by the slapping of skin on skin, of your whines and Steve Harrington's moans as you fell apart beneath him.

"Shitshitshit- man, you're amazing." he moaned as he rutted into you. You were frozen in pleasure, mouth open from silent screams of pleasure. You bit your lip, so hard you would have tasted blood had Steve not being everything you felt in that moment. "Oh, fuck," you groaned at a particularly deep thrust, "I'm s-so close."

"Me too," Steve whimpered, and you were sure it was the hottest thing you'd ever heard. "Where should I-"

"I'm on the pill." you sputtered out.

Steve's eyes darkened, delighted at the permission, determined to get you to your peak before he fell apart himself. "Yeah? You gonna let me come inside?" His hand reached between your conjoined bodies, rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Gonna come for me?"

Your back arched off the mattress, the coil in your stomach snapping at the same time Steve collapsed on top of you, his stuttering as he came. You both panted, recovering from the exertion. Rolling over onto his back, you and Steve stared at the ceiling, the weight of what you had done sinking in.

It was wrong, so wrong. He'd just broken up with Nancy, seconds before you let him crawl between your legs. You would have felt terrible, like you'd betrayed her, had it not been so good.

You would have felt guilty, had you not felt the shake of your legs still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm.

Steve turned his head to face you. You turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry about how I treated you, before."

You snorted.

"You don't have to apologise just because we had sex, Steve." The ridiculousness of it made you laugh. "Thanks, though." You were both silent for a while, just laying there. You tried spying your clothes across the room. "Where's my underwear?"

"Oh," Steve mumbled, getting up from the bed and into the bathroom. You couldn't help but stare at his retreating form, back muscles flexing as he stretched. You did the same, a soreness washing over you. Steam filled the bathroom, the sound of the shower running loud against the dying party below. Steve returned in his jeans, smirking as pulled your lavender lace panties from the back pocket, tossing them at you. You caught them with one hand.

"Perv," you said, sliding them back up your legs. Steve smiled from the bathroom doorway. He was looking at you that way again. It made your stomach uneasy. "What?" you said.

"You can, uh, clean up here. If you want." He scratched the back of his neck. He gestured to the shower. You stomach flipped again. You rose from the bed, using the sheet to cover your chest. You stopped in front of Steve, who was struggling not to look down at your loosely covered front.

"This is not a thing, okay?" you said slowly, as if saying the words aloud would make them true. As if hearing them from your own lips would stop the way your lips yearned for Steve's the second they left your own. "This goes nowhere else."

Steve nodded, mockingly serious.

"Aye aye, Captain."

He grabbed your hand, making you drop the sheet, and led you into the steam filled bathroom. You let him wash your skin, all soap and too much affection given who he was to you. You didn't stop him when he kissed below your eye, on your nose, or when he placed an all too tender kiss on your lips for just a second. But it was long enough. You let him wrap you in a towel, drying you with gentle hands. You didn't object when he dressed you in his old basketball shorts and a tattered sweatshirt. You let him tuck you under his sheets, didn't flinch away when he tucked your hair behind your ear.

You let him wrap his arm over your waist when he returned, having kicked the last stragglers out of the house. You let yourself fall asleep in his bed, warm and soft and all too inviting, much like its inhabitant.

What you wouldn't do was let yourself fall for this, you thought. You wouldn't fall for Steve Harrington. Wouldn't fall for his moves, his overused lines. Wouldn't get wrapped up with the wrong guy.

But as morning came, and you turned to see Steve already looking at you, that look on his face, you thought that maybe it was too late. And by the looks of Steve Harrington, it was too late for him as well.

[oneforthemunny]

dripping down |dom!eddie munson x brat!reader|

prompt: after bratting all day, you take your time in the shower to make both of you late and eddie is less than pleased.

contains: dom and sub dynamics, brat tamer!eddie, mean!eddie, bratty reader, language, spanking with implement (bath brush), mentions of oral fem receiving, mentions of p in v sex. minors dni 18+

You took your time, gliding the razor over your legs slowly, watching the shaving cream foam catch and drip with every slide. The water was beginning to turn cold, the steam thick and heavy around you. You simply pushed the nozzle further, the water heating even further, boiling you even more.

"Baby," Eddie's voice was huffy, annoyed. "Are you almost done? We're supposed to be there in twenty minutes."

You huffed, ignoring him, lips pressed together in deep annoyance. Jeff and his fiancé, Kate, were celebrating moving into their own home- a tiny townhouse on the other side of Hawkins. It was a housewarming party, just with a few friends and their partners, the usual crowd. It wasn't that you didn't like Jeff or Kate, or that you didn't want to go, it was Eddie.

Since your conflicting work schedules, social events, and everything in between, you'd barely got to spend time together- alone. He'd barely fucked you all week, not for lack of trying. You were tired, or he was tired, and the times you had managed to slip in a quickie before bed or before leaving, it was half hearted and barely fulfilling. He hadn't even gone down on you since last Friday, a week ago. You were going crazy, unhinged and beyond frustrated.

At brunch this morning, with Steve and his new girlfriend, Claire, you'd tried to be a little fun, sneaking your hand over Eddie's crotch, palming him lightly through his jeans. You hadn't even managed to get the top button opened before he'd put your hand back in your own lap, a side eyed hard stare that left you pouty. You were bratty the rest of the brunch, huffy and irritable, you knew you were. But you didn't care, you really didn't.

When you'd gotten back to your apartment, later than you meant to because Eddie and Steve couldn't stop talking. You'd tried again, kissing him a little deeper than usual, hands trailing down his sides, fingers looping through his jeans. Eddie snorted lightly in the kiss, pulling back with his hands on your jaw.

"Oh, now you wanna be nice, huh?" He asked, mocking, tilting his head to the side. You bristled, nose scrunching in anger. Eddie grinned, pressing a little peck to your cheek, smacking your ass lightly. "You wanted to take a shower, right? Better go now, we gotta leave in an hour and a half, alright?"

The way he'd blown you off, sweetly but not even bothering to chastise you for brunch, not even wanting to join you in the shower. That surly feeling quickly replaced with anger, hurt. You stomped to the shower, slamming the door and locking it furiously, shoving off your clothes. He wanted to ignore you? Fine.

You'd taken your time washing your hair. Lathering, rinsing, repeating, brushing out your hair in the shower slowly, detangling slow and precise before working in your conditioner, raking it slowly in. You'd even exfoliated with your bath brush, lathering it in the body wash and scrubbing your skin raw. You'd done everything as slow as you could, precise and sluggish.

Eddie had started knocking on the door, jiggling the knob after thirty minutes. "Baby, you almost done?" You'd ignored him.

Then he'd come back, a little firmer this time. "Seriously, are you almost done? We've gotta be out of here soon and you haven't even started drying your hair."

"Oh my God, can you leave me alone, Eddie? Fuck, quit rushing me! I'll be done soon!" You snapped back, huffy and annoyed through the curtain. You turned to the spray of the shower, letting the warm water wash over your face.

"Babe, you've been in there forever, c'mon. Hurry up." Eddie huffed.

"Then you shouldn't have stayed talking to Steve so long! You knew I needed to take a shower!" You yelled, huffing in annoyance. You rolled your head in the spray of the shower.

Now, it had been well over an hour. Your fingers were pruned, Eddie was hammering on the door, shouting at you to hurry up, but you ignored him. You heard his heavy footsteps stomp away, his shouts and threats stopping, and you smirked, finally thinking you might have won.

Until you heard the scratching of the lock. Your brows furrowing, peeking around the curtain of the shower. The door bursting open, a fuming Eddie glaring at you from the door. You squeaked, ducking back behind the shower curtain, like it could protect you.

You might have miscalculated, really, you realized that when Eddie's heavy hand pushed back the curtain, the whirring of the metal of the shower rod revealing Eddie's hard expression. You watched as he slapped the water off, leaving your body dripping, and leg half shade. His eyes scanned to the bath brush that hung on the knob of the shower, gripping it tight before grabbing you with his other hand.

"Wait, Eddie, I'm almost don-"

You grunted when Eddie yanked you out, propping his knee up on the lip of the tub, holding your waist tight to him. Your hair and body dripped, shivering with the cool air mixing into the shower.

Eddie rubbed the bath brush to your wet bottom, bringing it forward with a soaked smack! that bounced off the porcelain shower walls following with your loud yelp. The brush was hard, stinging against your cheeks. Something about the water or maybe your already flushed skin from the steam made it sting so much worse.

"Ow! Eddie, stop!" You flailed, tipping forward to brace your hand on the sink.

Eddie brought the brush down again and again, slapping against your wet skin. He knew you were just being a brat, you'd been one all day, sulking and huffing and mean. He'd tried to ignore it, he knew you'd be upset with him, but he'd hoped it would make you try to please him. He hoped it would get you submissive and sweet, but it seemed to have the opposite effect, only making you worse. He had enough.

"You," Eddie grunted, smacking the brush down on your ass, the smooth, wooden end dancing off your cheeks, leaving small rounded imprints behind. "Are going to get finished now." He brought the brush down twice, hard, making you cry out. "Understand?"

You sniffled, trying to wiggle out of his hold, wet and cold from being yanked out of the shower, aching with every hit of the brush on your burning cheeks. "Understand?" Eddie growled, smacking the brush against you hard, making you yowl in pain.

"Yes!" You sobbed, back arching at the hit. "I'll be done! I'll be done!"

Eddie set the brush down, slamming it against the counter angrily. He reached over, hand smacking the water back on, the stream of the shower trickling back onto the wall. You were shoved back in, sniffling and writhing away from the cold stream.

Eddie glared harshly down at you, brows furrowed in seriousness, ignoring your rounded eyes and little sniffled as you looked up at him pathetically. He remained stern but hoped you wouldn't see the way his jeans tightened at your little pout.

He grabbed the timer from the kitchen, winding it tightly so it started to tick. "You have until that timer is done," His ringed hand pointed towards the timer winding down. "To get finished. Understand?"

You nodded, reaching back to rub your stinging cheeks, thighs pressing together. Eddie nodded. "Five minutes." He pulled the curtain back, stomping out of the bathroom.

You were done in two minutes. Finishing your shave quick, nicking yourself twice with the razor, hissing at the trickle of blood from your knee. You bandaged yourself, drying your hair quickly with the dryer, trying to multitask as best as you could, desperate to be good and forgiven by Eddie.

You'd pulled your hair back, not getting to style it the way you wanted. Every time you looked at Eddie, he would sigh dramatically, looking down at his watch, lips pursing together in feigned annoyance. You knew he was playing it up, the exaggerated disappointed role for you, but it made your tummy flip-flop, pooling with warmth in your core, going faster at the task to finish it; desperate to please.

Eddie placed his hand on your back when you left your apartment, a sweet gesture that you savored, leaning into him sweetly. He circled his arm around your waist, both of you stepping down the creaking, wooden stairs towards the van.

"You gonna be good for me tonight?" Eddie asked with a raised brow, fingers wrapped around the handle before he opened the door for you.

Your head bobbed, eyes rounding sweetly up at him. "I'll be good." You breathed, his hand on your hip. You ass still stung, burning with every rub against the rough fabric of your jeans.

Eddie nodded curtly. "You better be." He opened the door, nodding at you to get in. "If you're a good girl, I'll be good to you tonight when we get home." He leaned in, brown eyes locking with yours.

You crossed your arms, huffing lightly, rolling your eyes to look out the other window. "I'm sure you'll be too tired again." You snarked.

Eddie's tongue rolled down his cheek, eyeing you viciously. "That's what this is about, hm?" He cocked his head to the side, brow quipping.

You shrunk under his glare, squirming in your seat. You could feel the burn of your skin against your jeans, rough and scratchy on the sensitivity. "Yeah, it is." You grumbled. "We haven't had sex in forever, Eddie." You whined.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "We had sex last night, baby."

You pressed your lips together. "Barely." You muttered. "That was like bare minimum sex. It didn't count."

Eddie sighed heavily, moving his hands to cup your jaw sweetly. "If you're good tonight, I'll fuck you extra good and sweet. How you like it." He muttered, his lips moving to brush over yours. You lifted into the kiss, his grip on your jaw stopping you from kissing him fully. "If you're bad, I'll still fuck you, but it won't be how you like." His eyes darkened at the threat, seeing excited chills down your spine, straight to your pussy.

You blinked up at him, eyes rounding slightly, his nose touching yours, smushed up so you could feel his breath joined with yours on your top lip. His eyes were soft, round and brown and big in the way that made him look so innocent and sweet- deceptive really in a way. He could be very sweet, was very sweet to you, but innocent? Not so much.

"Will you eat me out if I'm good?" You asked plainly, biting back a grin when he laughed, breath caught in his throat from the surprise of your request, blunt and direct.

You smirked, the blush rising on his neck towards his ears, hidden away by the mess of curls. Eddie pulled back, shaking his head at you playfully. "Yeah, baby, I'll eat you out if you're good." He grinned, leaning on his arm on the doorway of the car. "I'll do whatever you want if you're good, promise."

You grinned smugly, pulling your seatbelt on while he shut your door. You clung to him all night, holding his hand on the drive there, arms around his waist when Jeff and Kate showed you the house. You were so sweet, sitting in his lap, only pouting when he playfully patted your ass once, letting him smother you in kisses as an apology.

You were happy and sweet and pleasant, chatting with all his friends and their partners, giggling with the boys when they told you stories about Eddie from high school that made him blush.

You were so good, which is exactly why Eddie was between your legs for the remainder of the night, your hands gripping his curls, heels digging into hi shoulders. He could see the faint marks from the bath brush, rounded and imprinted on your cheeks when he fucked you hard into the mattress, adding a smattering of his handprints to the already irritated skin while he rutted into you from behind.

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Eddie's mom was a free spirit who got taken too soon but educated her son in anything and everything that she found interesting. And she found A LOT of things interesting.

Eddie still secretly keeps these interests and sure, some of them are expected (weed and the best strains), some less so (obsessive reading and perfect knowledge of Edith Piaf). Eddie can even make fantastic mixed drinks ("My mom worked as a bartender for a bit and she practiced at home, what are you staring at, Henderson?!") and can quote most of Le Fleurs Du Mal from memory.

Steve learns to accept and even expect this. Mythology? Of course. Random bits of knowledge from history? Of course. The man only knows SOS in Morse code but can tie nearly every single knot known to humanity? Weird, but it's Eddie.

But then he finds out Eddie knows a fuck ton about horoscopes and astrology. It only takes a single moment of distraction on Eddie's part - Steve is complaining about his latest date, a girl Eddie knows from his class, and he scoffs.

"Well, duh. Of course it didn't work out, Steve, her Moon sign's an Aries and yours is Cancer, that's a recipe for a short fling, not a long relationship."

Steve just stares at him.

Eddie's eyes go wide as he realizes what he's just said. "Uh, I mean..." he scrambles for an explanation, "...she...sounds really stubborn?" he says slowly.

Steve blinks once. Twice. Then his mouth twitches upwards. "What is your Moon sign?"

Eddie feels like it should be a joke, but Steve is patiently waiting for his answer, encouraging smile and those fucking delicious moles. "I'm...uh. I'm a Scorpio. Moon sign, that is," he mutters and hypnotizes Steve's left eyebrow. "Which is...you know. People think it sucks."

"And does it?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, well. You know, we can be kinda...secretive? But Moon signs are all about your emotions and the inner you, so...it takes a while to get to really understand Moon Scorpios, but then we're the most loyal bunch you'll ever find."

Steve just nods, still smiling. "That's cool, doesn't sound bad at all. But - are you compatible with a Cancer Moon?"

And Eddie probably should have asked "hey, what the fuck," but someone is asking him about his interest, no irony and all that, and that isn't something frequent according to the Munson doctrine. "Oh yeah, absolutely. I mean, Scorpios can be a bit intense, but they're both water signs, you know? And it depends on the Sun sign and rising too, so..."

Somehow, they spend the whole evening discussing astrology. Well, Eddie is. Steve is just listening and asking questions.

Somehow, Eddie manages to calculate both of their charts (because Steve asked).

Steve asks a lot of stuff. "How would you make someone with your chart open up?", "What would be an ideal date for that kind of person?", "Is there something I should be careful about?" and Eddie answers everything but somewhere deep thinks man, I really envy the girl he's doing this for. She's lucky she shares the same birthday and place of birth with me.

It only clicks two weeks later when Steve invites Eddie to hang out and takes him to an alleged haunted mansion. Which...might have been one of the more outlandish ideas Eddie gave him, but he said he would actually love that and that it would fit with the Scorpio dark and brooding aesthetic, if Steve's girl is like that.

He stares at the haunted house, at Steve's sweater (the one Eddie told Steve suits him the best) and a small picnic basket and he realizes.

I gave Steve Harrington a complete guide to dating me.

Steve smirks at him and gently touches his hand, careful not to spook him. "So, what does your Scorpio Moon say?"

Eddie groans and, after briefly checking that no one is around, quickly presses his lips to Steve's cheek. "Apart from "Eddie Munson, how the fuck didn't you notice sooner?" It's purring."

The younger man laughs and Eddie could bask in that sound forever. "Pretty sure scorpions can't purr."

"With you, pretty boy? They sure can."