#Chrissy Cunningham Needs a Hug

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Take your time while your mine (and smoke slow)

Author: @cunnninghams

Rating/Warning: Teen and Up Audiences

Chapter Count: 2/2

Description: You don’t smoke,” Eddie said dumbly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She straightened her shoulders as she sat up, and Eddie watched, dumbfounded and like a deer in headlights as she reached for the pack of Lucky Strikes laying on the concrete between them. “Yeah, well — today I do.”

Tags: waitress!chrissy, linecook!eddie, diner au, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate universe- no vecna, Friends to Lovers, Coworkers to lovers, Mutual Pinings, light angst, Fluff, Chrissy Cunningham Needs a Hug, Eddie Munson is Soft for Chrissy Cunningham, smoke breaks as a plot device, dumb amount of restaurant slang, benny’s diner is poppin and argyle makes the best pancakes in town, idiots in love, post-high school, Alternating POV, Two-shot, Status: Completed

[tartarusknight]

Let's say for fun that Eddie Munson isn't just gay or just straight. If he's not one of them, I believe he'd be pansexual. Yes, bi exists, but I feel like it isn't Eddie. I can just imagine young Eddie not knowing that people don't just fall in love with everyone who's kind to them. He tells his dad how much he wants to marry the neighbor's son, and that's when he has a wake-up call.

He learns that everyone, in fact, does not, not care about what is in someone's pants. And when he moves in with Wayne, he tries to ignore that part of himself that likes boys.

But throughout school, Eddie learns he has a type. Pretty jocks who have hearts of gold. Chrissy Cunningham, who was head cheerleader and played volleyball. But she was soft and sweet. She was kind to Eddie, and Eddie fell for her.

The man he fell for, though, he was a harder read. At first, he couldn't stand him. The boy was always looking a million miles away, like he was better than everyone else. But then... then Eddie had seen him at the store, talking with Joyce Byers. He had been kind to her, and when he noticed the young Will Byers, he hadn't been prickly. No, Steve Harrington had oohed and ahhed over one of his drawings.

And well, Eddie knew that in school, Steve and his friends didn't deal with Jonathan. Jonathan was a year younger, and Steve hadn't given him a second glance. But he had been kind to these two like it was God-given right.

When Joyce had asked Steve about his parents, well, Steve hadn't gotten bitch, just awkward. He explained they had a big trip so Steve just took the bus. 15 years old and already being independent. After that, the distant looks, bored stares... well they didn't look so bored, so high and mighty. They just looked lonely.

Eddie had been instantly hooked on watching him. And when you watched, you saw the heart of gold leak through. So throughout school, Eddie nursed his two crushes, and when Chrissy asked him for drugs, he couldn't say no. Not even when he didn't want to see her mess up her life. He brought her back to the trailer and experienced one of the worst nights of his life. Just when he thought that maybe there was a chance he'd at least become friends with her.

He didn't think that watching her die would bring him Steve, though. And with his shitty week, he couldn't even tell himself to hold back. He flirted, got in his face, and called him pet names. Whatever he could think of, he did. He didn't think of any backlash when it felt like he'd be thrown in jail or killed by freaky supernatural shit.

Eddie fell even further, getting to watch Steve rip a bat apart. It was so fucking Ozzy. And then, as Eddie had laid in Dustin's arms, never expecting to get up again, Steve was there. Like a goddamm angel. He told the man as much.

Sure, he wouldn't remember when he woke up. But that was later Eddie's problem. Not that it was a problem. No, because when Eddie wakes up, Steve will be there, and he'll tell Eddie that it's okay to pick the hard choice. To love the option that would make it so much harder when the person you love is right next to you.

Yes, Eddie Munson might not have been gay or straight. He might have loved Chrissy or not. But he did fall for Steve and well... Steve, I imagine that Steve will find himself learning to love someone new in Eddie. That Nancy didn't have to be he only option. That he could be happy with Eddie.

That when Eddie was better and Vecna was dead, they could start a life together. One where the kids were still a big part of it, and Robin was their roommate. One where love wasn't easy, but it was worth it.

[pearlypairings]

all good dates begin at the cemetery

characters: eddie munson x chrissy cunningham (back on my hellcheer bullshit); OC: angie cunningham (deceased older sister)

summary: chrissy visits the Hawkins Cemetery to vent and reconnect with her older sister whose death broke her heart and changed her family's whole world. Out of desperation, she asks her sister for a sign that she's not alone…. And maybe, just maybe, Angie answers her prayer with a tall, mischievous metalhead to save her from the storm.

wc >3k || warning: sibling death, emotional/parental abuse || hurt/comfort, hopeful ending

author's note: totally inspired from so many hellcheer discord discussions & a very specific dorky, but endearing scene from Smallville where Lana introduces Clark to her parents at the town's cemetery

snippet below:

She choked back a sob, rubbing her hands over her face in protest that her feelings betrayed her. She was supposed to be strong for her family, for her little brother, even for Angie. But all of this stress slowly pressure-cooked her from inside out. “I’m exhausted, Angie and I don’t know how much more of Mom and Hawkins I can take without you. Things were bearable back then, and I don’t know if it’s because you protected me from it or if I was too young to see it, but I’m tired of fighting a losing battle. And I worry about Charlie when I leave, what will happen to him, because Dad sure as hell doesn’t have a lot to say for us in front of Mom. Mostly just sad eyes at dinner, and then, a lot of silence behind his locked office door.” The grey stone stood there in silence. And if she thought too hard about it, she’d feel like it was mocking her pain. But this was her sister. She wouldn’t hurt her like that. She’d have something impassioned to say, rally their spirits. She was the oldest, the one who spearheaded campaigns against their parents for less chores and more fun when they were little. She’d teased the hell out of her, sure, but threatened Sherry down the street when she’d called Chrissy a loser for wanting to look at bugs in her garden. Angie never let her down, even when they got to an age where it wasn’t cool to hang out with your younger sister. Chrissy never felt alone when Angie was around. Chrissy wiped her eyes. “You’d know what to do, what to say…you always did. And I need that right now. I need a sign from you that everything's gonna be okay. That I’m not alone in this fight…”

** bonus for reading: the clip from smallville that this fic is loosely inspired by: click here

[cunninghamchrissie]

Years after Vecna’s defeated and the ones trapped in the Upside Down are brought back to life, Eddie’s still struggling with nightmares, and he can’t hide them from Chrissy anymore.

We, the ashes on ao3.

[formosusiniquis]

for @thefreakandthehair and inspired by this. Everyone enjoy some bee keeper!Eddie saving the day so Steve can play some baseball

Eddie picked up beekeeping the way he picked up most things in his life: accidentally and by virtue of following a crumb of serotonin straight down the rabbit hole of obsession. It isn't what he expected to do for a living, and at this point he does have to admit that when it accounted for 91% of his taxable income last year it is what he does for a living, but he likes that he gets to work outside and set his own hours. He likes that the regular customers he has who buy his honey are nice, and likes getting to advise people about things like flavor profiles and what they taste best with, it was the thing he liked best about his position at the dispensary that was now more of a side gig. And then there's his contract with city animal control that gets him called out to parts of the city he didn't even know existed to relocate hives a lot more often than he thought would happen.

It's a good life, and he likes that he's made it himself.

But it's the kind of life that gets him calls from people late at night when trying to finish binging Fallout before the internet can spoil it for him. He has a rule to always answer when Chrissy calls though, he isn't going to miss helping her if it's an emergency.

“I need a favor,” she says before he's even finished answering.

“Anything for you,” he agrees.

“You might regret saying that.”

Chrissy Cunningham turned a full ride scholarship for cheerleading into a business and marketing degree and she turned that into a fancy job with the White Sox that he didn’t fully understand but totally supported. He wore the free cap she gave him, and was endlessly glad that as a white guy he didn’t get gatekept the way girls like Chrissy did, since he couldn’t name a single player on the team.

And it was that endless support that had him in his full gear at the White Sox stadium with his smoker and bee vac.

Chrissy meets him at the front with a harried expression and a warm hug, “I’d say I owe you one but if everything goes right we’ll be totally square before the first inning.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, repeating it louder when all she gives him is an enigmatic smile. 

The only answer he truly gets is being shoved into a little green cart that she drives with a frightening speed. She drives them through the stadium through a route he has no hope of remembering on his own until they reach an opening that leads straight out to the field. Eddie always had a dream, as a kid, of being a rockstar, driving out onto the diamond to a sudden and uproarious cheer is the closest he thinks he’s ever come to truly experiencing what it would be like to be famous on stage.

He hams it up of course. Waves his arms to try to get them to cheer louder as Chrissy stears them toward the lifter that he’s going to have to go up to get to the swarm. And they do, the cheers becoming an enthusiastic roar, a sound so loud he thinks he could climb them up to the bees without the lifter. 

“Focus will you, you’re on national television right now.” Chrissy says, with a subtle elbow to his side.

“Yeah but how many people are watching a delayed baseball game?”

Never one to just take his smartass comments, he’s sure that Chrissy says something super witty and sarcastic back. Only Eddie made the mistake of turning his head and catching sight of the most glorious ass in the snuggest pair of pinstriped white baseball pants and lost the ability to hear. A second elbow in his side reminds his brain full of metaphorical bees that he’s on television and he doesn’t have his veil on, he isn’t about to get caught drooling on television.

The fattest ass in the stadium turns around and Eddie thinks he’s been stung. He has to be going into anaphylaxis with the way he suddenly can’t catch his breath. The guy in front of him, with a hand on his hip and his eyes trained unwaveringly on Eddie is tongue-swellingly hot. And he just keeps getting closer as Chrissy doesn’t stop driving forward.

“Steve, you’re not supposed to get this close, you're our starting pitcher you can’t get stung.” Chrissy chides.

“I just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to kill the bees.” The guy, Steve, says.

“He’s not.”

“I’m not,” Eddie says, shaking his head as fast as he can, like that will make things more convincing for the hot baseball guy. But he’s got an eyebrow raised giving Eddie an up and down like he still doesn’t believe him.

“Look,” he pulls out his equipment so Steve can see. “I’ll smoke them with this, that’ll make them calm so they don’t freak out when I vacuum them up with this.”

“And running them through a vacuum isn’t going to kill them?”

“It’s a gentle suck,” he says, immediately filled with a burning mortification. “It’s just enough to move them into the tank where I can relocate them.”

Hot baseball Steve has his big brown eyes open even wider, there’s a twitch at his mouth like he’s about to say something else and Eddie actually can’t have that. “Chris can we get me strapped into this thing, we want to get this big ballgame going right?”

Steve takes a couple steps back, hands raised up in a placating gesture. Whether it’s for him or for Chrissy because he didn’t listen, Eddie’s too busy putting a neon yellow safety buckle on to think about it.

He takes his time, this is basically free marketing so he’s not about to rush through or do a half-assed job. But in just a few minutes he has a vac full of bees and the game is ready to be played. The lifter gently lowers Eddie back to the ground with another round of cheers. He unclips from the safety harness and takes a shallow bow for the crowd.

Then Steve is jogging over, Eddie stands up straighter than he ever has in his life. Nervous for what is about to happen.

“You saved the game, man!” Steve has the nicest smile that Eddie has ever seen, wide and toothy. He is but a man and thus falls a little bit in love immediately.

“It was nothing, really, just part of the job, y’know.”

“Well, here’s something you probably haven’t done on the job. You have to throw the first pitch.”

“No, no, I absolutely will not be doing that.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, a mischief lights up in Steve’s eyes. He jerks his chin up at Chrissy who says something Eddie is too far away to hear into a walkie talkie. He thinks he has a guess though when the loudspeaker begins to drawl, “Laaadies and Gentlemen, our game is about to begin. Tonight’s first pitch will be thrown by our bee rescuer, Eddie Munson!”

The crowd begins to scream again, but the sound is almost like the hive's steady drone when Steve leans close enough to whisper, “It’s just ceremonial, all you’ve got to do is throw it. I’ll even play catcher for you.” And Eddie’s helpless to do anything but nod.

There’s actually a lot that has to happen before they’re ready for him to throw his sad attempt at a pitch. But that gives him the time to settle his equipment out of the way and scream at Chrissy. Still it’s sooner than he’d like before she’s shuffling him over to a big mound of dirt in the center of everything. She pushes his hat and veil back and it feels a little proud father of the bride right until she pats him on the top of his head and whispers, “Don’t fuck it up, nerd.”

His palms are sweaty, they feel too slick to get a good grip on the small, white ball. He thinks he might throw up, only across from him Steve is there. A glove on one hand he sends Eddie an encouraging little finger wave with the other. 

He can do this. 

He takes a deep breath and throws.

It’s awful. Too high and a little off center, but Steve snags it in that large, ungloved palm and the crowd cheers again like he’s done something fantastic. He’s starting to think they’re just happy to be here.

He starts to walk off the field, toward Chrissy where he knows he’s safe. But he can’t help noticing that Steve is jogging his way too; the ball that Eddie just threw in one hand, a sharpie in the other, his glove tucked tight under his arm. “Eddie, hey, you gotta take this with you, dude.”

Steve lobs it at him in a soft underhand, and Eddie still fumbles the catch, “Thanks, man, but really, I don’t-” the rest of his response dies in his mouth when he realizes just what Steve has scribbled across the ball.

“Give me a call if you’re interested,” Steve says, walking backward toward the mound Eddie just left, “I can show you my gentle suck.” He laughs at his own shitty pickup line, which is somehow more attractive than his whole hot jock thing.

Eddie thinks he must be blushing up to his hairline by the time he makes it back to Chrissy and his things. She looks too smug for it to be any other way. “Told you we’d be even before the end of the night.”

“Chris, if this goes well I might owe you a favor. Now we gotta go, I’ve got bees to relocate.”

[munson-blurbs]

Happy Saturday! If you’re still taking requests for the 2k celebration, could I request Eddie/mall/lingerie? And happy 2k followers, definitely well deserved!

It's the return of perv!best friend!Eddie, y'all. Hold on tight.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), unprotected p in v (wrap it up), creampie, pet names, public sex (no one around tho), barely any foreplay because I'm lazy, friends to lovers

WC: 1.6k

--

Shopping with Eddie is like pulling teeth. First, you have to convince him to actually come to the mall with you. Then you have to continually bribe with treats from the food court just to keep him from driving off without you. Today, he’s snacking on a giant cinnamon pretzel from Auntie Anne’s and slurping on a root beer.

“Remind me why I need to be here again?” he whines as you compare two denim miniskirts that look identical to him, but apparently, you can spot a difference. He takes another bite of pretzel and sighs indignantly.

“Because,” you explain, exasperation evident in your tone, “I need a man’s opinion on what to wear for my date tonight, and you’re the closest thing I have.” You laugh as he playfully shoves you. “And I needed a ride, so…”

“So, basically, you’re just using me for my male gaze and my car, huh?” he asks, running a hand over a neatly folded pile of shirts on display.

“Pretty much.” you chirp, putting both skirts back on the rack. “Ugh, this is hopeless! I’m never gonna find something.” You blow out a big breath, puffing your cheeks. “One more store and then we can go home, I promise.”

Eddie rolls his eyes but dutifully follows behind you, taking the opportunity to check out the way your shorts perfectly hug your ass. He feels a twitch in his pants as your hips sway back and forth, and he wills himself to look away.

Unfortunately, in his pursuit to keep himself from popping a boner in the middle of the Starcourt Mall, his gaze lands on the entrance to a lingerie boutique. The mannequin out in front is adorned with a red lace teddy that leaves nothing to the imagination. His eyes dart back to you, and all he can think about is you wearing it. But not for your date with whatever schmuck you’re going out with tonight; no, Eddie wants you to wear it for him. In his bed, straddling his waist, grinding on his–

“Shit,” he mutters. He thinks his voice is low enough to keep you from hearing, but he cringes as you swivel around to see what the problem is, catching him trying to discreetly adjust himself over his jeans.

“You okay–oh,” you giggle, taking notice of his predicament. “Careful, Casanova; y’might wanna pick your jaw off the floor.” You put your forearm on his shoulder and rest your chin on top of it, making him tense up even more. “Who are you picturing in that? Chrissy Cunningham? Tammy Thompson?” Before he can answer, you press on. “Ooh, or maybe a supermodel, like Cindy Crawford or Iman? C’mon, who is it?”

“What if I was picturing you?” Eddie tries to play off his words teasingly, but the raw lust blowing out his pupils gives him away. 

Biting your lower lip, you can taste the gloss you’d applied earlier. Every time Eddie jokes with you like this, pretending he wants you, it kills you inside. “Do you think I should try it on?” You look at him innocently, batting your eyelashes as you call his bluff. “Y’know, for Kyle tonight?”

At the mention of your date’s name, Eddie shrugs your arm off of him. “No,” he growls, hooking a ringed finger through your belt loop, “want you to try it on for me.” There’s no hiding his hardness now, and you can feel his heart beating faster as he draws closer to you. He swallows thickly, waiting for your response. 

You’re too stunned to speak. Eddie has always been a flirt, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on him, but he’s your best friend. There’s no way he seriously wants to see you in lingerie, right?

“O-Okay,” you manage, turning towards the store. Eddie intertwines his pinky with yours as though ensuring he won’t lose sight of you. You find the teddy in your size and bring it into the dressing room. To Eddie’s dismay, you yank the velvet curtain closed. He tilts his head slightly, trying to find a gap wide enough to get a glimpse of you changing. He can just imagine you shimmying out of your clothes and into the sheer lingerie. 

Fuck it. 

Careful not to expose you to a customer passing by, Eddie slips into the room, resting his hands on your waist as you examine yourself in the mirror. The lace clings to your body, hugging your curves in all the right ways. You can feel his hard length pressed up against the back of your naked thigh. 

“Eddie,” you breathe out, trying to ignore the fluttering below your belly, “what are you doing?”

“Tell me something, princess,” he says, purposefully ignoring your question, “I pictured you putting this on, but who did you picture taking it off?” He waits for what seems like an eternity, silently praying that Kyle’s name doesn’t pass through your lips.

You turn to face him, letting his strong hands fall below the curve of your ass. “You, Eddie. Always you.” As soon as you give your answer, Eddie’s mouth crashes onto yours. He brings one palm to cup your cheek while he kisses you hungrily, moaning lightly with each flicker of his tongue against yours. He guides you to the wall, palming your breasts through the minimal covering.

Eddie nudges his knee between your thighs, brushing against your sensitive sex, and you moan involuntarily. “Oh, baby,” he coos, chuckling at your reaction to his touch, “so needy, aren’t we? I bet you’re already soaking wet. Almost pathetic how desperate you are f’me, huh?” You want to fire back with a witty retort about how he was the one who wanted you in lingerie; he barged into the dressing room while you were changing, but you can’t string words together to form a sentence. Instead, you nod dumbly, making him laugh again. “Don’t worry; I’ll tell you a little secret.” He nibbles at your earlobe before whispering, “This isn’t the first time I’ve thought about your sexy little body in one of these. Not even the first time today, actually.” 

With that, your fingers fly to his belt, unbuckling it as deftly as you can, and tug his pants and boxers down his thighs. His throbbing cock thwacks against his torso, leaving a pre-cum stain on his shirt. He hisses at the sudden relief, using his own fluids as lube to pump himself. You start to get onto your knees, but he stops you.

“If you put your mouth on me, ‘m never gonna last,” he warns with a smirk. “That’ll be for next time, yeah?” The promise of a next time excites you even more, and you allow him to hoist you up against the wall, pushing aside the lace as he runs his cock along your slick folds. “Y’ready?” His eyes are wide; though he wants nothing more than to be inside you, but only if you want to. When you nod, his smile exposes his soft dimples. “Thas’ my girl.” 

My girl my girl my girl. The words swirl through your brain as Eddie pushes his mushroom tip into you. The stretch is a mixture of pleasure and pain, melting into only the former as he slowly ruts up into you, allowing you to take a bit more of him each time.

Eddie’s never had sex this good before. You dig your fingernails into his back as your pussy clenches around him; he feels himself growing even harder inside you. He grabs the plush of your ass as he quickens his pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust.

“Goddamn,” he groans, nearly whimpering as you tug on his hair. “Your body was meant for me, baby. Takin’ me so well, like you were made for my cock.” 

“I was m-made for you,” you echo, feeling your body tremble with delight. “Eddie, Eddie, oh, fuck, Eddie!” You lean your head back, exposing your throat and giving him the perfect angle to suck a bruise just above your collarbone.

Eddie chants your name, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he leaves more hickeys. “Can’t hold back much longer,” he confesses, trailing his tongue over the fresh set of love bites, but he keeps the same rhythm that’s driving you wild. “Wanna get my princess off before I do, though.”

“K-Keep going until you c-cum, please,” you beg him, “just like that.” You bring your middle finger down to your clit, rubbing deliberate circles until you feel your orgasm wash over you. “Yes, Eddie. I’m cumming, cumming for you…feel s’good.”

Bucking his hips harder and chasing his release, Eddie is a panting mess. “Shit–gonna cum, gonna cum in-inside you, fuck.” His hot seed coats your walls as he cries out your name one last time. He gently pulls out of you, leaving cum dripping down your leg while you struggle to regain your balance.

“Looks like we ruined it,” he offers, motioning to the lingerie. There’s tears along the crotch where he roughly moved the fabric, and the mixture of your releases is starting to leave a stain. He tears off the price tag and crumples it, tossing it to the floor. “Put your clothes on over it, hmm? It’ll be our little secret.” He pauses, giving you a mischievous smirk. “Unless you wanna tell Kyle tonight?”

You shake your head. “No. No Kyle. Only you.” Honestly, you’d forgotten all about your date until Eddie just reminded you. “Gonna cancel so we can do…that again.” And hopefully again and again and again.

Eddie throws his arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, “now that I’ve got you, we’re not stopping until that little number is completely destroyed.”

--

[eddiemunsonswhxre]

Hi could you do an angsty one shot where Eddie cheats on the reader? Or when the reader thinks he’s cheated and they argue? Whatever you feel like, thanks 😊

think this is my fav angst i've written so far, thanks for the request

infidelity / eddie munson

part two

cw: cheating/thoughts of cheating, cursing, overall just a lot of angst and tears

sometimes it's hard to know what you want.

--

eddie never meant to make meeting with chrissy cunningham a regular thing. but she was a really sweet girl who was struggling and eddie always had to be a savior. so when she kept asking to meet him during lunch out in the woods, he kept going. and eventually, he began asking her to meet him and before he knew it they were hanging out there most days of the week and hiding it from everyone. even you. 

at first you didn’t notice and frankly didn’t care. you weren’t obsessive over eddie because you were confident in his love for you. at least you thought you were. he kept disappearing though and he wouldn’t give you an answer. if he did he lied, which was stupid because he was so easy for you to read. it just didn’t make sense. so, you decided to skip fifth period and see just where he kept disappearing to during his lunch hour. lucas had admitted to you that he wasn’t at lunch much anymore, but was secretive of where he was going. the boys had all assumed he was meeting you. 

so there you were, stood behind the bleachers as you watched eddie stand near the entrance of the woods while looking around for someone expectantly. what you didn’t expect was to see chrissy cunningham running up to meet him. you didn’t freak out, you knew eddie was the only one in school who sold drugs and who were you to judge if people needed them or not? but then he held open his arms, engulfing the giggling blonde in a tight hug. you felt a sharp pain in your heart as you watched him guide her into the woods, arm slung across her shoulder as she wrapped one around his back.

you debated running after them and confronting them, but you were smarter than that. running up at them a screaming and crying mess would get you nowhere. you needed evidence. so, you acted as though nothing was wrong when eddie came up to you after school and gave you a kiss as he did everyday. but you couldn’t help but wonder if those lips had been against someone else’s. 

“so, uh, i think we need a date night. what do you say the movies? friday night? they’re replaying nightmare on elm street since the new one’s coming out in a month or so, i know you love that movie,” you ask with a smile. eddie’s smile falters and he gulps nervously. 

he scratches the back of his neck, hoping he doesn’t seem like he’s lying. “i’d love to, baby, but i’m supposed to hang out with gareth and the guys. saturday though?” he asks with a fake smile. you didn’t want him to know you had caught on.

you pulled away from him and nodded. “yeah, saturday, i’ll call you about times?” you say. he nods and smiles. “alright, i’m gonna head home,” you say, holding the strap of your bag tightly.

“you don’t want to come to hellfire?” he asked confused. you almost always came to watch. 

you shook your head no. “nah, i’m not feeling too good,” you shrugged.

eddie frowned. “oh, well, go rest and get better, okay? maybe i’ll stop by later,” he says stepping back up to you. “i love you, babe,” he says and it hurt so much more than it ever has. you couldn’t shake what you'd seen today, and how did you know he even meant it anymore? he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you nodded, turning and heading to your car as tears stung your eyes. 

it was currently wednesday, so you planned on interrogating one of eddie’s minions that wouldn’t crack if eddie were to question him. so that’s how you ended up at hard-headed mike wheeler’s house at 9 o’clock on a wednesday night. to say he was shocked to see you sitting on his bed in his dirty bedroom would be an understatement. “y/n?” he asks, looking back at nancy who just shrugged and went to her own room. 

“hey, mike,” you said hoarsely, not bothering to try and hide you’ve been crying. 

mike looks at you in confusion before slowly closing his door and dropping his bag. “not trying to be rude, but why are you here? in my bed… and crying?” he asks cautiously approaching you.

“just know if you tell anyone what we talk about in here i will chop your tiny dick off,” you say aggressively pointing at him.

“my dick isn’t- nevermind. yeah, i won’t tell anyone. to be honest, y/n you’re kind of scary,” he says, cautiously sitting on his own bed across from you. “now, can you please tell me what’s going on?” he asks.

you sigh, wiping a tear from your eye. “i think eddie’s cheating on me,” you spoke quietly.

mike’s jaw dropped. “no way,” he says causing you to give him a look. “i-i mean, he’s like obsessed with you, he talks about you like all the time. even refers to you as his princess, it’s kind of weird honestly…” mike continues. 

“but has it been the same recently? have you noticed a change in, i don’t know, the past month i think?” you ask, chewing on your nails.

mike thought back and he hated to say it, but he did. “y/n… do you really think he has the ability to cheat on you?” he asks, struggling to believe it.

“so you have noticed something,” you observe, feeling as though you may throw up. 

mike bit his lip and looked away. “he just, doesn’t talk as much about you. i just thought maybe since you’ve been together so long that he didn’t feel like he needed to? in the beginning he was worried about us hitting on you, on his bullshit about how we couldn’t look at you in the wrong way and so on but obviously we caught on quickly. he also misses lunch like a lot, we figured he was with you but lucas said that wasn’t it. i know he sells, but he doesn’t get that much business,” mike explains. a couple tears fall from your eyes and mike feels awkward but just looks down at his hands. 

“he’s been going to the woods behind the football field, with chrissy cunningham. i saw them today,” you said brokenly.

mike furrows his eyebrows. “chrissy cunningham? you’re sure, like, jason’s girlfriend?” he asks and you nod. “holy shit…” he mutters. 

“i asked him to hangout friday, they’re playing nightmare on elm and it’s like his favorite movie. but he said he’s hanging out with gareth. can you find out if that’s true? maybe ask what everyone’s doing and get back to me?” you ask. mike chewed on his lip as he thought. he didn’t want to betray eddie, but if he was cheating…

if eddie was like a male parental figure for the guys, you were definitely like a mother. you always gave the boys rides home if they needed it, you’d bought them pizza, and even tried helping them get girls. “yeah, i’ll ask tomorrow at lunch. it’s hot dog day, for some reason he thinks they’re amazing,” mike comments causing you to laugh. it was true, eddie for some reason loved those nasty ass hot dogs. 

so the next day at lunch, mike did just that. he was normally shit at being subtle, but luckily dustin first brought up the topic of weekend plans. almost everyone had answered except eddie. “so, eddie. what about you? doing anything tomorrow or the weekend?” he asked nonchalantly. eddie looked up, mike almost wanting to laugh at the fact his mouth was actually full of hot dog. 

after swallowing, he wipes his mouth and looks at him. “yeah, i’m going to see nightmare on elm street tomorrow night. you know they’re showing that shit?” he smiles, taking another bite. a pit forms in mike’s stomach. he wasn’t hanging out with gareth. 

“oh, cool. cool. you going with y/n, you both love that shit?” mike pushes and eddie gives him a nervous look. he looks at mike, his eyes flashing somewhere else in the cafeteria before he pulls himself back together. 

he nods, looking around the table. “uh, yeah. y/n and me are going,” eddie confirms. mike purses his lip, looking down to his tray as he thinks. telling you hurt, because he saw your eyes water before thanking him and leaving. so you made a plan, you were going to go to the movie and see if eddie was there. if he was with chrissy, you’d confront him at his house after. 

so that’s where you stood five minutes before the movie started. there were only doing one showing tonight, and knowing eddie he would’ve arrived here thirty minutes early. he always made you do that. you paid for a ticket and stood outside the door to the theater, trying to psych yourself up to go in there and see something that might break you inside.

you took a final deep breath and walked into the theater. you peaked around the corner of the wall separating the entrance from the seats and scanned up the crowd. you avoided looking at your seats first, scared of what you might find. you and eddie always sat in the same place, and when your eyes finally fell on it, you wanted to throw up. 

in his usual seat sat your boyfriend, and in yours was chrissy cunningham. he had his arm on the back of the chair, like he always did for you and they were laughing, eating popcorn from a bucket on chrissy’s lap. you turned around quickly, running out of the theater and back to your car. the second your door closed you broke down. all you felt was pain.

eddie was your everything. in a world where you had no one, you thought you would always have eddie. you spent months in your relationship finally getting comfortable with the fact that he actually wanted you after no one had. and now? pretty cheerleader, queen of hawkins high, chrissy cunningham had his attention. you cried in your car for about an hour, and when you could finally see straight you drove to his trailer and sat on the steps, waiting for him to come home. you just prayed chrissy wasn’t with him. that would break you more than anything. 

you sat impatiently, bouncing your leg until you heard the tell-tale sign of metallica coming from his van. soon, his headlights were blinding you until his engine cut. “baby?” he asked as his door opened, it quickly slamming shut as he walked quickly up to you. “baby, what are you doing here, it's getting cold?” he asks, standing in front of you. 

“how was your movie?” you asked in an empty voice and eddie felt his blood run cold. 

he looked around nervously before opening his mouth. “what do you mean? i-i was with gareth-”

“i saw you, eddie!” you yelled, looking up at him. “i was there! i knew you were acting weird and i find you with chrissy fucking cunningham?” you scoff, lowering your voice now that you had his attention. 

eddie was in shock. “i-i can explain,” he said and looked at you like he was genuinely in pain.

you raised your eyebrows, “then explain.” 

eddie opened his mouth, searching for words but he didn’t have any. he didn’t know how to explain what he’d been doing or what has been going through his head. “i love you,” he whispered desperately.

you scoffed in disbelief and stood up. “no, you don’t,” you sneer at him. 

eddie mouth goes dry. “i do, y/n, i love you,” he tries reassuring. you shake your head, lip quivering as you feel tears well up in your eyes once more.

“then why are you cheating on me?” you ask with a broken voice.

eddie grabs you by the arms to get you to look at him. “baby, i’m not cheating on you. me and chrissy, we- we’re just friends,” he says desperately. you shake your head, bringing your hands up to your face. 

“no,” you mumble. and eddie opens his mouth to respond. “you meet her three times a week. you hide in the fucking woods with her. you hug her like she’s- like you hug me. you lied to me, you took her to your favorite movie, and-and you put her in my seat!” you tell him, voice rising as you go as you try ripping away from his grip.

eddie shakes his head, eyes filling with tears. “no- babe, it’s not like that,” he cries, trying to grab you again. 

you cry as you shove him away. “then what’s it like? because you know i wouldn’t have cared if you and chrissy were just friends. but you lied and kept it all from me. you chose her over me, you’re treating her exactly how you treated me before you asked me out. you took her to see nightmare on elm street,” you say, emphasizing the title while staring deep into his eyes. 

“i thought she would like it, it’s nothing else!” he says.

you turn from him as you take a deep breath. “was that your first time hanging out with her, outside of school?” you ask.

“yes, baby, i just thought she’d-” he starts.

“you took her on the same first date you took me on. on that date, we had our first kiss. on that date, you asked me out. and now? it’s not even ours anymore,” you say, eddie’s heart dropping with every sentence. he totally forgot that was 'your movie.'

he shook his head and reached for your hands once again. “y/n, it’s still ours, it will always be ours,” he said, tears visibly falling. 

you let out a sob that broke eddie’s heart. “you kiss her?” you ask.

“no, no, baby, i didn't kiss her,” he says immediately and you know he’s honest. that takes the tiniest bit of hurt away from you. 

you take a deep breath before asking the next question. “but you like her?” you whisper. eddie shakes his head no but you notice the unsureness behind his eyes. “don’t lie,” you continue.

eddie runs a hand over his mouth and spins around, running his hands through his hair. “i don’t know,” he finally admits, scaring himself. you choke back a sob, feeling like everything in your life is a lie. “but, i do know that i love you,” eddie says, walking up to you. 

you shake your head once more, feeling your whole body become heavy with helplessness. you felt like you were gonna throw up. “don’t,” you say, feeling your mouth begin to salivate as you hold out your hand. “don’t say you love me if i’m not the only one,” you say and then gag.

“but it’s true, i’m in love with you, y/n, please believe me,” eddie begs trying to get closer to you. your hands fall to your knees as you heave and then suddenly you’re throwing up whatever you had eaten earlier. “woah, baby,” eddie said in a worried tone, immediately reaching forward to hold your hair and rub your back as you continued throwing up. once you are able to stop and stand, you push him off of you.

you wipe your mouth, more tears filling your eyes. “don’t call me that,” you say, stepping back away from him.

“y/n, please. everything can be fine. look i-i’ll stop talking to chrissy. that’s no problem, i’ll do anything,” he begs.

you close your eyes, your head was starting to hurt from all of this. “eddie, i can’t be with you when you have feelings for someone else,” you say.

eddie lets out a huff, trying to hold back a sob. “i don’t have feelings for her, i-i don’t think i do. i know that you’re who i want, i never questioned that,” he explains. 

“you still lied to me,” you say.

the sob leaves his lips. “i know and i’m sorry. i’m so sorry. but please, y/n, you are the only one i want. chrissy is nothing compared to you,” he says.

“i need to go home. i need to think. i need a break,” you say seriously, taking a deep breath. 

eddie starts to shake, his lip trembling. “what? a break? like… from us?” eddie croaks.

you nod and brush past him, walking to your car. “we’re done, eddie. go figure your shit out with chrissy,” you say, feeling completely numb as you do.

eddie runs after you, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “baby, please don’t do this. i do not want chrissy, you are it for me,” he emphasizes his words, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. tears streaming down both your faces.

“if that’s true then a break won’t change that. i’m not changing my mind,” you say and eddie’s head falls forward as a sob rocks through his whole body.

he sniffles and hiccups before meeting your eyes again. “so this is it?” he asks in the most heartbroken voice you’d ever heard.

you look away from him, not wanting to cry more. “goodbye, eddie,” you whisper, waiting for him to take his hands from you.

eddie cries, leaning his head down to rest against yours. “i’m sorry i did this to us,” he whimpers, causing you to screw your eyes shut in pain. 

“eddie…” you trail, watching him look at you through his tear-filled brown eyes. “let me go,” you say quietly, watching him shut his eyes.

he shakes his head no, stroking your face with his thumb. “i can’t. i love you, i want to marry you, y/n. i can’t just let you go,” he sobs. everything he was saying was making you want to stay, but you knew it would be a mistake if you did.

“eddie, you have to. i need space, please,” you beg. eddie gave you a final, heart broken look before backing away slowly. “goodnight, eddie,” you say quietly and open your car door. 

“i love you,” he desperately tries once more as your car door closes. you pull out of his driveway and head home, tears clouding your vision as you go. eddie pulls at his hair and falls to his knees, sobbing at the fact that he just lost you. eddie was feeling more pain than he’d ever felt in his life, and he didn’t even know what to do with himself at this point. 

[medusapelagia]

R- Rockstar

R is for Rin (@rindecision) the first person I DMed ever! Thank you for being so kind and helpful💜

I hope you will enjoy your present 🎁!

This fic is inspired by this beautiful art made by @firefly-party (who was so kind to let me use it as an inspiration!)

Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve /Eddie (vague mention of Chrissy /Robin) WT: no one Words: 1144

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Eddie swears while he smokes the last cigarette from his packet.

“Didn’t you promise Murray that you were going to quit? It’s bad for your voice, you know that.” Chrissy tells him when she finds him on the roof smoke chaining.

“This is a fucking emergency and I’m sure that Murray will understand.”

“If you say so.” She replies, looking at him unconvinced, so Eddie puts out the cigarette on the wall behind him.

“Did you come to give me more bad news?”

She shakes her blond ponytail “No, actually I came with a good one.”

“Is Gareth ok? Are we going to play tonight?”

“Well these are two very different questions and I’ll give you two very different answers. First no, Gareth is still at the hospital and they are not going to let him leave his room, he just got his appendix perforated and it’s not a joke.”

Eddie lets himself slip toward the floor dramatically “Fuck. We are screwed.”

“But…” she continues, helping him up “You must go back because Corroded Coffin are going to play tonight!”

Eddie’s eyes widen “You didn’t.”

Chrissy smirks “I did.”

“How the hell did you find a drummer with such a short notice? Is he good? Does he know our songs?”

“He is quite good. We are very lucky because his tour just ended and he seems to know at least some of your songs.”

“Some?”

“He is good Eddie, you will be really pleased with him, I’m sure of it.”

Eddie hugs her so tight that he almost hears the bones in the girl's body cracks “Sorry, sorry. You are a magician Chrissy! I don’t know how you made it but it’s the greatest news ever! I would have been so pissed if we had had to cancel the last date of our concert and rescheduled!”

“I know, that’s why I insisted. The drummer wasn’t really convinced at the beginning, but you know me! I worked my magic and now it’s downstairs to rehearse with Frank and Jeff.

“Without me?” the metalhead asks, offended.

“You are the one crying on the roof, not my fault.” Chrissy replies with a sweet smile.

“The face of an angel and yet you are so cruel! I was mourning! Didn’t you notice?”

“Oh, I noticed, as I noticed all the cigarette buts on the floor.”

“Promise me you will not say to Murray that I smoked.”

“Pinkie promise.” She replies with a smirk, and Eddie feels there is something he is missing, but he is so excited to have a temporary drummer that he doesn’t ask any questions and runs toward the stage.

The new drummer is turned toward the boys but he seems familiar.

“Hey, Ed! Have you seen the new drummer Chrissy got us?”

The boy turns and Eddie’s blood turns into ice “Harrington?”

The chestnut boy winks at him “Hey, Munson. Chrissy told me you needed a drummer.” 

Eddie turns toward Chrissy who is laughing behind the papers that she is holding.

“Do you care to explain, Cunningham?”

“Well, Different Twins last tour date was yesterday and they were still in town, so I asked a favor to a friend.”

“Which friend?” Eddie knows that Chrissy has a crush on the blond singer and guitarist of the duo, but she knows that he is not indifferent to the pretty drummer either.

“Is it important? I got you a drummer, isn’t that what you wanted?”

Even if Different Twins play pop music Eddie has seen Harrington play more than once and he is definitely capable of repeating a song just after one listening so Eddie is pretty sure that he will nail it; the problem is Eddie: will he be able to concentrate on the music and not on the drummer?

“I fucking hate you, Cunningham.” he murmurs between his teeth.

“Nah, you love me. Now go and do what you do best!”

Eddie raises an eyebrow “Make a fool out of myself?”

“Play!” she replies, pushing him toward the stage.

“Well, I think that the boys already told you about our songs’ setlist, right?” Eddie asks, getting on stage.

Steve nods “Yeah. We were talking about the last song. I was proposing to play Running Up the Hill.” He says making a bun with his hair and fixing it with a pen.

“Sorry?”

“Running Up The Hill, your version of the song.”

Eddie shakes his head “We usually close with our version of Sweet Dreams.”

“Yeah, I know it, but it sounds like an easy choice. I mean… don’t you want everyone to leave the concert still pumped? It’s your concert, so it’s your choice but…”

“We haven’t played it in so long.” Jeff intervenes, looking at Eddie “I’d like to play it again. What do you say?”

Eddie glares at Jeff, he just put him in a difficult position “That’s not what we decided…”

“Come on! It will be fun!” Frank insists and Eddie sighs.

“Ok, ok, but we have to rehearse it at least a couple of times, ok?”

That’s how Eddie finds himself close to Steve, watching his every movement and finding them impeccable.

“You are good.” Eddie tells him, offering some water.

“Were you worried?” Steve asks amused.

“A bit? Sorry, but it’s our last tour concert and I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

“I get it, I’m the pretty boy who plays pop music, aren’t I?”

Eddie can’t deny that he was thinking these very same words so he simply shrugs whispering “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I guess you’ll have to offer me a beer.”

“What for?”

“For being rude?” Steve replies sticking his tongue out.

That’s not what Eddie was expecting from him, he was expecting a preppy rich kid who would have reminded him that he comes from a rich family and is a talented multi-instrumentalist, but instead, he simply asked for a beer and stuck his tongue out like a five-year-old.

When they get on stage Steve is wearing a blue tank top that shows all his constellations of moles and Eddie has to try his hardest not to get too fixed on the drummer during the concert, even if his eyes find Steve’s more time than not.

“So, how do you like him?” Jeff asks Eddie when they get backstage after the concert.

“He is good.”

“I’m sure he is good at many things…” he whispers with a wink, but Eddie can’t reply because Steve is waiting for him.

“If I’m not wrong you still owe me a beer, right?”

Eddie turns toward Jeff to ask him if he wants to join them, but somehow both he and Frank have vanished into thin air.

“Well, it seems it’s just me and you, big boy.” Eddie concludes “My place?” he asks and the smile Steve gives him tells him all he needs to know.

[ymaohoh]

Hellcheer Headcannons - Love Alphabet Template

Template by honestsycrets.

These are just my headcannons. Tag - what are yours?

A = Affection 

Eddie and Chrissy are the king and queen of PDA. They can’t get enough of each other. Eddie touches Chrissy to reassure himself that he’s not dreaming. They’re big on hugs and kisses and physical signs of affection. 

B = Babies 

Chrissy wants kids but she wants to live a little first. She wants to go to college and maybe see more of the world. Eddie has never thought about it before (he’s never had a reason to) but the idea of Chrissy getting big with his child makes him feel all hot and gooey inside. He’s afraid of being a crap dad though. 

C = Cuddles 

They cuddle a lot. Chrissy is usually the little spoon as she likes having Eddie’s arms snug around her waist. Eddie loves holding her too. He likes kissing the top of her head and nuzzling into her neck.

D = Darling  

Chrissy calls Eddie Eddie, but the way she says it makes it sound like the most intimate and private of nicknames. Eddie called her Cunningham at first, then Chrissy, then Chriss. He calls her ‘baby’ and ‘sweetness’ and it makes her melt. 

E = Enamored 

They fall for each other quickly and they fall hard. They are not the ‘slow burn’ troupe. They go right for the kill. 

F = Firsts 

Chrissy isn’t Eddie’s first but it feels that way when they eventually fuck for the first time. He’s nervous as shit but in the end it’s fucking amazing. They fit together like a puzzle. Chrissy makes Eddie wait a little as she’s nervous (she’s read that once you give it away to a guy you can never take it back) but Eddie makes her realise it’s not something he wants to take. Eddie shares it with her, and makes her sing. 

G = Good Morning

Chrissy is a morning person. Eddie is not. That takes some adjusting but Eddie doesn’t mind. It gives them more time together (though he insists on strong black coffee). 

H = Hugs 

Oh yes. All the time. Chrissy hugged Eddie for the first time when he saved her from Vecna. It wasn’t planned but the weight of his arms felt like safety. 

I = In Labor 

Eddie is freaking out but he’s trying his best to keep calm in front of Chrissy. He makes sure she has everything she needs and he hates seeing her in pain. They ask him if he wants to step out of the room when it’s showtime but he holds onto Chrissy’s hand like an anchor (even though she squeezes so tight he thinks the bones might break). He cries later as he takes in his entire world. 

J = Jealousy 

Eddie can get jealous. He has baggage and it takes him time to accept, yes, Chrissy really truly does like him. He hates seeing guys checking Chrissy out. Chrissy makes an effort to remind him she’s not going anywhere. 

K = Kisses 

They kiss a lot. With tongue. Without tongue. 

L = Loyal 

Are you kidding? Ride or die. 

M = Memory 

Chrissy’s is their first time together. She didn’t know girls could get off like that. Eddie’s is when he first saw Chrissy in a Hellfire T-Shirt. That blew his mind.

N = Never! 

Their only rules are they both need total honesty and trust. They never lie to one another.

O = On the Rocks 

They never really argue (which is a shame as Eddie thinks the make-up sex would be fucking incredible). 

P = Playtime 

Eddie loves going down on Chrissy. It’s his favourite thing in the entire world. Chrissy loves riding face. He coaxes all sorts of fun and wild things out of her.

Q = Quiet Time 

They can be totally quiet together easy. They spend quiet nights watching movies, reading, Eddie practising his guitar. 

R = Rapture 

Is each other. And strawberry flavoured lipgloss. 

S = Soulmate

Eddie admits to being pretty jaded about all things to do with love before he met Chrissy. Chrissy calls him her soulmate and says she thinks they’d find one another in any dimension or universe. Eddie calls her a total freak when she says that and kisses her neck but knows she’s right. 

T = Together 

Everything is better and more interesting to explore together. They do spend a lot of time together and it’s almost embarrassing how needy they are. Where one goes, the other will follow.

U = Unyielding 

Eddie will tell any interloper very bluntly to fuck off. Chrissy got mad once when some girl at a music gig tried touching Eddie’s arm and boy was she all over Eddie that night. 

V = Vulnerable 

Eddie is vulnerable with Chrissy. Everyone else sees him as this scary mean freak (and they're not wrong) but he’s soft with Chrissy. Chrissy used to keep a lot of things bottled up like bubbling champagne but Eddie had a corkscrew.

W = Wedding 

Chrissy always pictured having a white wedding with the big dress and fuss. Eddie does suggest this as he wants her to be happy (though honestly he’d be happy with a quickie at the courthouse) but in the end they have something intimate and special with just their friends (and Wayne) attending. She's sad when her parents don't show. When Eddie puts a ring on her finger and she’s now Christine Munson she cries. So does he. 

X = (E)x 

Jason tries to cause trouble when they first come out as a couple, but there’s not much he can do when Chrissy and Eddie look so god-damn happy all the time. 

Y = Yearning

Chrissy will call Eddie in the middle of the night if she misses him (he’s reassured her this is okay). The next day he’ll swing her up into his arms and tell her he’s missed her and she’ll laugh and pepper his face with kisses. 

Z = Zzz… 

They usually sleep at Eddie’s. Eddie sometimes sneaks into her bedroom (climbing up the trellis) but they can’t really ever relax with her parents around.

[mxrcjqckspnchqsc]

Lost You

Pairing: Max Mayfield x GN!reader

Pt1: Promise?

Summary: In which Vecna targets you instead of Max and she's scared of losing you

Genre: Fluff/Angst

TW: Near death experience, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of strong language, romance themes, and the usual stranger things theme.

A/N: Your favorite song is Everybody Wants to Rule The World by Tears for Fears. You sorta have to read the first part to understand this one, I said sorta because this one shot starts where the first part ended and stuff.

IT'S FINALLY HERE SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT GUYS I DIDN'T MEAN TO

Anyways enjoy this oneshot/imagine(that isn't proofread whatsoever)

You ran for what felt like miles, you panted now out of breath. When you realized that you weren't in your house anymore, it was red and clocks were floating. And when you turned around you was met with a dead Chrissy Cunningham, you also screamed at the sight.

"Y/n," Vecna's voice loomed the air. "It's time for your suffering to end."

You turned around and was face to face with Vecna, he backed you into a corner. Which was stupid on your part as vines began to wrap around your arms and legs.

"Let me go!" You exclaimed.

"Why should I? It's clear to see you're suffering out there." Vecna stared you down.

"You don't know anything!" You spat.

"Oh but I do, I know everything about you Y/n." Vecna revealed. "I know about your mother and her history with the pills, such a shame isn't it?"

"Shut up!" You screamed.

"I'm only telling the truth y/n, it's all your fault. You should have been more careful," Vecna looked into your eyes.

You tried to look away when you felt a vine making its way around your neck, choking you.

"There's a reason why you don't tell them the truth, why you don't tell Max the truth." Vecna spoke.

...

Dustin held the radio in his hand, listening to Robin's words as they came in and out. Apparently well according to Robin, music was the key to saving Vecna but what was your favorite song?

Dustin ran back to the group and took out everything from your bag.

"What's their favorite song?" Dustin asked the group.

"What? What does y/n favorite song have to do with this?" Max exclaimed.

"Well Robin said that the key to escaping Vecna is by listening to your fav- nevermind what's her favorite song?" Dustin exclaimed.

"Uh let me think!" Lucas exclaimed.

"We don't have time to think, Y/n is about to die right now!" Steve panicked

"They aren't going to die, just tell me what's their favorite song!" Dustin screamed at Steve.

...

"You're not really here," You said in between breaths.

"Oh but I am Y/n, I am here. And I don't plan on leaving,"

...

"Cmon, cmon," Steve mumbled to himself, why did you have so many cassette tapes in one bag?

"Tears for Fears!" Max exclaimed, out of nowhere. "That's their favorite band!"

And with that, the group began to look for the one cassette that they knew you owned by them.

"I found it, I found it!" Lucas exclaimed.

"Hurry put it on!" Steve exclaimed.

"I'm trying!" Dustin shouted.

"Hurry up!" Max exclaimed.

...

Tears welled up in your eyes as Vecna's hand went to go over your face, that's when you hear it.

"Welcome to your life"

Vecna turned around to see where the noise was coming from and that's when you saw them, saw her. They were screaming at you to wake up, hoping that you would. You saw yourself and you were flying? But that thought erased your mind when Vecna turned back to watch you again, you squirmed.

"It'll all be over soon," Vecna told you with his hand over your face.

Through his fingers, you were still able to see your friends. And you realized that you couldn't die now, they needed you, she needed you. Your favorite memories of them began to flood your mind, when you were truly happy.

The dice rolls to a 12, you did it. You won the game. Lucas runs up to hug you as did the others. They all began to cheer for you.

"You did it Y/N, you did it!" Lucas exclaimed.

"That was so amazing Y/N!" Mike agreed.

"You just have to play with us again!" Will smiles.

"Forever actually," Dustin added.

"I shall!" You laughed.

You thought of another memory with your friends, one in particular.

You and Steve were riding down the street, Madonna came on.

"Oh, this is my jam turn it up Steve!" You exclaimed.

"Oh my god," Steve mumbled but does what he's told.

You began to sing along to the lyrics with your fake microphone.

"And we're living in a material world and I am a material girl," You sung along, horribly which made Steve chuckle.

You glared at him before laughing with him, it felt like hours and you hoped it would never end.

Another tear rolled down your face as you remembered one more memory, of Max.

You had gotten a bad grade on a test, and you weren't happy about it at all. Max approached you and saw your face and knew what it was.

"Hey," Max greeted.

"Hey," You grunted.

"Wanna hang out at my house today?" Max asked.

"It's the middle of the week, Max, maybe this weekend."

"My mom said it's fine,"

"No she didn't," You replied instantly.

"Cmon just this once, we can rent that movie you wanted to see."

"Really?" You turned to look at her.

"Yes!" Max smiled. "Whatever it takes to make you happy."

"I'm the happiest when I'm with you," You admit, Max's cheeks flushed as your words as she smiled at you.

You gasped as your hand was now free and punched Vecna in the face, knocking him away from you.

"Help me make the most of freedom"

You fell to the ground, you tried not to care as you got up and ran towards the portal.

"And our pleasure, nothing ever last forever."

You ran closer and closer to it, Vecna tried to ruin your path. You tried your best to evade it and you made it to the portal.

"Everybody wants to rule the world."

You gasped as you fell down, the others began to surround you. Max hugged you tight. Steve wiped a tear from your face as he caressed your head, you hadn't realized you were crying.

"I'm okay, it's okay." You told them but you were really you were telling yourself that.

"That was scary Y/n, please don't do that ever again." Lucas says.

"I'll try," You smile at him.

"I thought I lost you," Max whispered.

"You'll never lose me Max, never." You told her and that was a promise.

[nburkhardt]

March 27th 1986, if you ask Eddie Munson, sucks. It blows, the worst of the worst (it’s technically the day he ‘died’.)

It will always be known around Hawkins that Eddie Munson died. That a few days before he supposedly killed Chrissy Cunningham, that he ran from her body because he didn’t know what else to do. So to Hawkins, March 27th is a day that cult leader, murderer Eddie Munson died. 

March 27th, 1986

Everything hurts, he can feel so many fangs biting into him. He’s pretty sure he’s screaming but his body is buzzing from the pain and his eyes are tightly shut. Hopefully his death is worth it, that him being demo-bat bait is enough time for the rest to defeat Vecna. It’s one of his only thoughts in his head, the other? He’s thinking about how disappointed he is that he didn’t get to make Harrington flush a pretty red down his chest, it’s not important but he saw the man’s face when ‘Big Boy’ came out of his mouth.

He doesn’t know how long the bats attack him, doesn’t know when the pain stopped. Doesn’t know if he passed out or actually died. All he knows currently is pain.

“-st keep it quiet in here, ok? We do have other patients in the rooms next door. Now, visiting hours is until seven and only one person can spend the night here.” A woman’s voice wakes him up and he doesn’t know who it is, “I’ll be back later to check vitals, please remember to keep it down”

There’s a few quiet ‘sorry ma’am’s and ‘won’t happen again’s and a door closing before he’s listening to voices get louder and definitely bickering. Then someone saying ‘shh’ over and over, “come on shithead, my head hurts and the doctors said Eddie needs rest and your voice is so annoying”

He wants to laugh, thinks he makes some sort of sound because the room falls silent.

“Eddie? Are you- are you awake?”

His eyes feel heavy but he manages to blink them open. Vision is blurry and he groans, blinking more and then the room is more in focus. The first thing he notices is the fact that he’s in a hospital room. There’s a beeping he didn’t notice, there’s an IV hooked to his arm and he doesn’t have to see to know everyone in the room is staring at him. The first person he notices is undoubtedly his Uncle Wayne, who’s tearing up and moves closer to the bed. “Ed, ya really scared me”

“I’m sorry, Wayne” he mumbles out immediately tearing up, he didn’t mean to upset his uncle. Just wanted to help, to make up for not saving Chrissy. Can’t get those words out, they’re stuck in his throat and he accepts the hug from Wayne within seconds. “Didn’t mean too, swear.”

Wayne huffs a laugh and tightens his arm, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

The moment doesn’t last long and next thing he knows, there’s Henderson looking both guilty and pissed off. “Dude! You didn’t need to do that!”

Eddie rolls his eyes and doesn’t answer him, doesn’t even pretend to think about anything to reply back, instead he looks around the room and notices Wheeler, Buckley and then his eyes find Harrington siting next to him. He’s actually the only one sitting down, looking exhausted and in pain.

Now’s not the time but hey, he almost died and a little high from the drugs and the fact that he’s fucking alive right now. He’s shooting his shot.

“Hey, Steve, wasn’t planning on asking you, but it appeared to me that life is short. Will you marry me?”

The rest of the room goes silent and he doesn’t care, not much anyway. He just found out that Hell is real and underneath him, he’s allowed to ask another man to marry him. Doesn’t want to miss his chance now, because life is short and Harrington- Steve is someone he’d like to marry, even if they haven’t had many conversations. (He’s blaming his crush for this, he’s high okay?)

Steve looks like a deer in headlights, wide eyed with his mouth open and much to Eddie’s delight, a very nice blush is making its way up his face.

Minutes go by, and the silence is starting to get to him. He’s about ready to take it back but right as he opens his mouth, Steve is moving. Shifting the chair to face him better and closer, then a hand is sliding under his own and squeezes. His gaze flickers to the now entwined hands before looking at Steve, his face is a beautiful shade of red now.

“Let’s do dinner first?”

His smile is wide, he doesn’t even hear the immediate confusion and surprise from everyone else in the room. His focus is all on Steve and sees a smile bloom, “Hell yeah, beautiful”

~~~~

March 27th, 1987

While Hawkins celebrates a “death” there’s a small group of family and friends in a backyard listening to vows being traded. Smiles, tears and laughter is heard all around.

In front of everyone is Eddie and Steve, both wearing matching suits, sunflowers pinned on their jackets. Holding hands and smiling, eyes staring to water from words of protection and laughter, happiness and love.

Cheers start when the rings are traded and lips pressed together in a kiss to seal the deal.

Maybe someday in the future they can do this officially. For now, they’re happy with this. The matching rings sit on their fingers and a promise to love each other is all they need.

March 27th, 1987, if you ask Eddie Munson, is amazing, his favorite day. The best of the best and a beautiful day. He’ll forever remember it as the day he got to marry Steve Harrington. (And if he cries in their new bedroom a few weeks later when Steve shows him paper work of a name change, well, that’s between him and his husband)

~~~~

I wanted to write something with Eddie asking Steve to marry him. Had to include the date of course lol. I’m not going to explain any specifics on why Hawkins believes Eddie’s dead but it’s fine, they move away anyway. Eddie eventually makes it big with Corroded Coffin and Steve eventually becomes a teacher 🥰

[eufezco]

FOUR TIMES EDDIE MUNSON KISSED YOU

YOUR CHEEK

"I could be Lucas' sub." You stated. The six boys at the table looked at you. You've always refused to play D&D with them, but anyhow you've attended to every game of Vecna's sadistic campaign. You've seen Mike, Dustin, and Lucas fight against the monster and Eddie attacking them without scruples. You knew the storyline, you knew how the game worked, you knew the characters and of course the boys could help you prepare for the game. At this point, after figuring out your feelings for Eddie, you'd do anything to spend more time with him. Even if that meant playing D&D and officially joining the Hellfire Club.

Eddie arched his eyebrows, a half smile on his lips. "You want to be Lucas's sub?" You gulped. "I mean, I could be." You said nodding, Eddie's friends looked at the leader, waiting for an answer. You waited impatiently too. Maybe he didn't want you to play, maybe he wanted someone committed to the campaign but you could do that, you just needed him to trust you and you will put your all into beating Vecna's ass. The truth was that Eddie was more than happy with your offer, having you to play with them was everything he had ever wanted since he met you. How could he deny your proposal? You looked into each other's eyes for an intense couple of seconds, the determined look in your eyes and his soft gaze let Mike and Dustin knew Eddie's decision before he could proclaim it. "Okay." Eddie stated. Gareth and Jeff cheered for you and the smile on Dustin and Mike's lips and their expressions of relief were too big to fit their faces. The bell rang and two of the boys patted your shoulders before leaving. You, Dustin, Mike, and Eddie went outside of the cafeteria together. "Do not be late again, because this time we will start without you." Eddie warned the kids, them nodding at his words and looking at the floor. "Thank you for doing this."

"Oh, it's nothing—" You were cut off by Eddie leaning to kiss your cheek. Your eyes went wide, a little sparkle appearing on them and the two boys in front of you noticing. "See you later!" Eddie said while walking alone to his class. Dustin, Mike and you said good bye to him from the distance.

You three stood there watching the metal head walk down the hallway. Mike and Dustin with his eyebrows raised at the look on your face. "It's just a kiss on the cheek."

You giggled, hugging your books tighter to your chest. "I know."

FIRST KISS

You knocked on the door of Eddie's trailer, your feet nervously moving as you waited for him to open. Not even one minute passed when you started wondering why he hadn't opened the door yet. He obviously was home because you noticed that the lights were on, plus, he was the one that told you to come around, it wasn't as if he wasn't expecting you. Maybe he was taking a shower, maybe he was on the phone, maybe he was— Oh.

"Y/n. Hi!" You took a few steps backwards when the door suddenly opened. Chrissy's sweet voice greeting you and Eddie standing behind her. Surprised was not enough to describe your the look on your face at that moment. If there was someone you weren't expecting to be in Eddie's house that was Chrissy Cunningham. He told you that she had been buying from him for a month now, but as far as you knew, Eddie always dealt in the forest, not in his trailer. "Chrissy— hi!"

There were a few seconds of silence before Eddie decided to intervene in the conversation. "Chrissy was already leaving." The blonde girl nodded nervously, smiling at you and waiting until you got out of the way so she could leave, but she was too nice to say it with words so she just smiled and waited for you to notice. You moved aside, mumbling a 'sorry' as she said goodbye to Eddie and you, and started going down the stairs. As you saw her walk into the distance, you asked yourself if the cheerleader uniform was glued to her skin because you could swear you'd never seen her wearing anything else but that. Her skirt moved so fluidly as she walked away, her blonde hair tied in a ponytail swinging side-by-side with every step she took. Chrissy didn't walk, she floated. She was just so perfect, what was she doing here? "Are you coming in or are you following her to her house?" Eddie joked. You rolled your eyes in response.

Chrissy's overwhelming perfume hit your face when you walked into Eddie's house. "Chriss—" You shook your head, turning to look at him. "You don't need to explain." Eddie frowned. He tried to talk again but you cut him off one more time. "Eddie, I don't want to know, okay?" He huffed, you were always so stubborn, not even letting him talk. Maybe you didn't want to hear what he was going to say because you thought you knew what was coming. She is going to break with Jason soon, until that moment you can't tell anyone about us, if Jason knew we- he'll kill her "She—" You raised your eyebrows, why did he keep doing this? Hadn't he realized yet that you didn't want to know what they were doing before you arrived? "I'm not interested, Eddie! We're friends but you do not need to tell me about your hookups!"

Wow. Did you really think that's what Chrissy went the to his house for? You were so mad for no reason, and even though you didn't let him explain the case, he wasn't mad at you. In fact, you were causing the opposite effect on him. You were frowning, your lashes fluttered rapidly thanks to the anger and your lips were pursed. Your lips. Eddie grabbed both of your cheeks and connected his lips with yours. As he imagined, your cheeks were hot and your lips were tight. Sometimes he thought he had known you all his life because of the way he knew your body language and its reactions. Your lips felt looser once Eddie started moving his on yours and you closed your eyes which opened wide when Eddie smacked his lips against yours. His lips were just as good as you imagined.

"Chrissy came to buy Special K." Eddie licked his lips enjoying the taste of your mouth remaining there. You were doing the same until Eddie told you that the Queen of Hawkins High was doing hard drugs, your mouth opened involuntarily after hearing the news. "Chrissy doing ketamine?"

"You can't tell anyone." Oh, maybe you need another one of those to keep the secret.

YOUR BODY

"You're beautiful, sweetheart." Eddie mumbled, breaking the kiss to gasp for air as his hands ran up and down your body to end on your hips. Your hands were grabbing a fistful of his hair, softly pulling his head back as your lips attached to his again.

You gently pushed Eddie's shoulders, making him sat down on his bed. "Fuck, yeah..." He murmured, using his hands to lean backwards and enjoy the show as you stripped down for him. You sensually played with the hem of your shirt as you swayed your hips at the same time. Eddie smirked at your movements, he could feel himself grow harder everytime you lifted your shirt a little more. You finally pulled your t-shirt over your head, Eddie's smile turning into him biting his lower lip as he took a deep breath admiring how your bra squeezed perfectly your breasts. Your hands traveled down your body, caressing it until they got to your shorts, Eddie fixed his posture on the bed, ready for you to keep going. You unbuttoned your shorts and zipped them down, his breathing was slow as he admired your body covered only with a beautiful set of underwear. "Hell, yeah..." Eddie sat on the edge of the bed. You've never felt so safe being naked in front of anyone as you did with Eddie. He adored every part of your body. Every stretch mark, every scar, every pore of your skin. You walked towards him and sat down on his lap, your hands making their way to the back of his head to tug on his hair as his lips attached immediately to yours.

Eddie held your hips down as his lips started devouring your neck with kisses. You gasped when his teeth brushed your sensitive skin. Eddie moved from your collarbones to the valley between your tits, your hips rolled unconsciously against his already hard bulge. His hands roamed all over your back, his fingers stopping at your bra hook. He played with the backstraps of it, making you whine until he finally unhooked it like a professional while his lips were now attacking the part of your boobs out of the bra. Once your bra was out of the way, his hands went back to your hips, pressing your core down his erection. You let out a whimper when Eddie trapped one of your nipples between his teeth and sucked on it. "You're lips are magical." He let go with a pop sound and changed your position, you now lying on the bed, and Eddie placing himself between your legs. "I know." Eddie groaned and stood on his knees. He could stay like this, watching you from above lying on his bed all flustered and waiting for him to touch you. Just as if he read your mind, he pulled his t-shirt over his head. You licked your lips, admiring his upper body and the tattoos decorating it. He slid your panties off your legs and parted them, your cheeks growing hot at the exposure.

"Look at me." Eddie demanded as he leaned down until his head was between your legs. You gasped when his lips placed a kiss on your throbbing bud, never breaking the eye contact with him. Oh, his lips were truly magical.

LAST KISS

"Don't try to be cute or be a hero or something." You nodded at Steve's words to Dustin and Eddie.

"Don't worry. You can be the hero, Steve."

"Absolutely, I mean, look at us. We are not heroes." You arched your brows, worried. You didn't like the idea of separating Eddie for the first time since he was involved in all this. Sure he was with Dustin, the kid won't let anything happen to him but either way, you had this weird sensation in the pit of your stomach. Like something bad was going to happen. "Okay, lovebirds, if you're gonna play a cheesy farewell scene, now it's the time." Steve stated walking past you to go with Robin and Nancy who were a few steps behind you.

Eddie showed you a smirk, letting the shield he built fall to the ground and he opened his arms to you. You ran into them, your head resting on his chest as one of his hand traveled to the back of your head, holding you closer to him if possible and the other one laid in your middle back. "If things get out of hand, don't stay, please." You looked up at him, Eddie showing you a smile that let you know that everything was going to go as planned. You also looked at Dustin, the kid nodding at your words. Both of Eddie's hands landed on your cheeks as he leaned to kiss your lips. You melted under his touch, all your muscles relaxing and your legs turning into jelly as his lips moved with yours one last time. When he broke the kiss, his eyes analyzed your face. As much as you tried to hide it, Eddie noticed your glossy eyes and your quivering lip, but he knew you weren't going to allow yourself to cry. He leaned again to give your lips a quick peck. You should've insisted more, you should've convinced your friends to stay with Eddie and Dustin, going with Robin, Steve, and Nancy seemed unproductive to you. They were already three, they didn't need you. You should've fought for staying by his side.

"Hey, hey, hey..." He said looking for your eyes that were focused on the ground. "Everything is going to be okay. You're going with Steve The Hero Harrington, nothing bad is going to happen to you. As much as I don't like to admit it, I trust they guy and I know you are going to be safe with—" You shook your head. "It's not me that I'm worried about, Eddie." There it was that smile on his lips again. He kissed your forehead and hugged you one more time against his body. He was scared as hell too, letting you go to fight some type of devil creature wasn't something that Eddie liked to think about. "I'll see you later, okay?" Eddie raised his eyebrows at you, waiting for a sign of approval on your face as he rubbed your cheeks with his thumbs. You nodded, your lips still trembling in fear as you stood on your tiptoes to kiss him for the last time.

[blueywrites]

Where you and Steve swing with Eddie and Chrissy, and it gets complicated.

TO KNOW YOU'RE MINE (modern!swingers!au) (18+ only)

eddie munson x chrissy cunningham x steve harrington x you

fem!reader, chubby!reader, minimal use of y/n, body insecurity, swingers, girls kissing, boys kissing, smut, cooperative oral (m receiving), fingering (v), p in v, dirty talk, praise kink, jealousy

chapter four: touch tank (16k) | playlist | AO3 | next

🎵 in this au, deftones=corroded coffin. the playlist is a combination of R's sad girl music vibes and some foreshadowing. the song for this chapter is #15.

You took my breath away

So now I can't suck in my stomach 

around you anymore

Touch Tank — Quinnie

The dingy apartment hallway has never looked so luminous in the late afternoon sun as you return home from your afternoon of shopping. You're swinging your little striped bag, its treasures concealed beneath pink tissue; the fingers of your other hand are closed around the lid of a smoothie, mouth currently too occupied by a brilliant smile to keep sipping fruity goodness right now. 

You can't wait to show off your recent purchase to your boyfriend.

Inside, Steve is seated at the kitchen table, fingers tap-tap-tapping on the keys of his laptop, old coffee cooled beside him. You drape your arms around his shoulders from behind, peering at the mind-numbing spreadsheet with its rows of number-filled rectangles. You wrinkle your nose at it, tightening your arms; your bag crinkles against his chest, and your smoothie drags condensation across his shirt with the force of your hug.

Steve huffs amusedly through his nose, gently taking the plastic cup from your hand and placing it beside his mug before affectionately clasping your forearms. "I take it your girls' trip was a success?" 

"Yes," you say, eyes bright, grinning cheek pressed to his. "We each got something new for Friday night."

 "Oh?" Steve's thumbs rub teasing circles against your skin. "And do I have to wait until Friday to see your 'something new?'"

"Mmm…" You hum thoughtfully, playful as you wiggle your hips. "I suppose I could be persuaded to offer a sneak peek."

Apparently, that's all Steve needs to hear. The way he closes the laptop so unceremoniously makes you laugh, arms releasing him so he can eagerly pull you to the bedroom.

The four of you have been playing together for a few weeks now, and it's been good. Quite good, actually. You've found yourself growing more comfortable with both Eddie and Chrissy with each successive encounter, sexual and otherwise. You don't know whether all couples who swing also go on double dates to restaurants or solve escape rooms together, but considering Steve's friendship and long acquaintance with them, it seems natural for you all to spend time together outside the bedroom. You enjoy spending time with Eddie and Chrissy— they're warm, sociable, and fun. And you trust them. Eddie had proven himself trustworthy when he'd promised not to tell anyone about your secret; you know he'd kept that promise because there's literally no way Steve would've kept quiet if he'd found out you've faked every orgasm he thinks you've had with him. Though you've never gotten as close to orgasm as you had that first time with Eddie, you've been thoroughly enjoying yourself since. No complaints from any of you, as far as you can tell.

So it hadn't been difficult to decide as a group that you were ready to take things to the next level: that you wanted to explore penetrative sex together for the first time. This Friday had been chosen for the occasion.

Friday nights had unofficially been designated as group play since that first time you'd gone to Insa, and though you'd sometimes see one another on other days of the week, Fridays were a given. This gave you a little less than a week to prepare for the next step in your ongoing journey of sexual debauchery; a little less than a week to imagine what it would feel like for Eddie to be inside you for the first time. To some extent, the promise of the unknown makes those nerves squirm in your chest, but mostly, you're excited about it. 

When Chrissy called today and asked if you wanted to go to the mall with her, you eagerly accepted. An afternoon filled with powdery-soft smiles, shared giggle fits, and eager shopping ensued as you prepared for this upcoming weekend. You'd gotten mani-pedis, visited Lush to explore their offerings of natural facemasks and body butters, and, finally, spent an inordinate amount of time browsing for a new set of lingerie, one worthy of the occasion.

Shopping for lingerie with Chrissy was not like shopping for lingerie with Steve or by yourself. For one thing, Chrissy is much more adventurous than you regarding her undergarments: her preference is for as much edge and as little coverage as possible. You are slightly more conservative, gravitating towards cheeky panties over thongs and floral lace over faux leather. She'd chosen her own lingerie fairly quickly— a fuchsia v-string that was more strap than fabric, crotchless and with a satin bow in the front, with a matching push-up bra. For you, she'd held up many potential options that you quickly dismissed, but one set she suggested caught your eye. With Chrissy's keen encouragement, you'd tried it on; when you'd heard her squeal of excitement and gazed with wide eyes at your reflection in the mirror, you'd gathered enough courage to step out of your comfort zone and try out some adventure for yourself. 

Now, you're cloistered in the walk-in closet, twisting your body to examine it from all angles before emerging to show your barely-patient boyfriend your new lingerie.

"You gonna come out soon?" Steve's voice is muffled through the door, and you picture him sprawled on the bed, hair flopped over his brow, full lips in a pout as you make him wait. 

"Yes, Steve— honey, dear, darling one," you say with sing-song playfulness, biting your bottom lip as you run your eyes one last time over your body in the closet mirror before cracking the door. From the sliver, you see him sit up from his sprawl, head whipping toward the closet.

"Finally, jee—" He cuts off, eyebrows nearly to his hairline, hazel eyes wide, mouth falling comically open as you push the door open fully to reveal your body. You flush warm, a little smirk stretching on your lips as his gaze rakes over your body, devouring the sight before him.

The first thing that attracted you to this set was the color— a deep red, rich and heady like sweet fruit. The panties are embroidered with tiny flowers, delicate and feminine, not quite a thong but with less coverage than you'd usually choose. The bra is stitched with matching embroidery, but it's not a push-up like Chrissy's. You don't need that; you've got enough going on as it is. Instead, it's boned with underwire for just the right amount of support, and it's unlined— sheer, so your nipples show through, dusky and darkened beneath the red fabric.

When Steve recovers, he just husks a simple direction: "Come here, now."

It's a little brusque, but you chuckle as you approach him, pleased that he's so affected by the sight of you. When you climb onto his lap, Steve seems unable to decide what to do with his hands— brush them over your waist, palm the swell of your breasts, squeeze your hips, or cup your jaw and draw you in for a kiss.

But when you gently capture one fluttering hand, guiding it down to show him that your new panties are crotchless, same as Chrissy's, that decides it for him.

You gasp sharply as his finger plunges into you, his other hand grasping at your jaw to pull you in for a searing kiss. You're already wet from the anticipation of him seeing you like this, so he slides in with no resistance, groaning against your lips as he feels the evidence of your excitement. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, fingers drawing through thick strands as you open your mouth for him. His tongue in your mouth moves in tandem with his finger, stroking you inside, kindling the heat in your lower belly until you're rocking your hips into the heel of his hand. He presses it tighter to you, rubbing friction into your clit as you moan, pushing your breasts into his clothed chest.

Clothes. You realize then that Steve has on far too many clothes.

Pulling abruptly from his lips, you pant, "Take off your clothes, Steve."

Your hands accompany your direction, tearing at his shirt before he's even pulled his finger out of you. Together, you make quick work of it and his pants, hand finding his hard length as soon as his tight boxers are revealed, fingers wrapping around him as best you can through the fabric. He hums, hazel eyes dark with desire as he palms the back of your neck, pulling you into greedy lips that suck at your throat. "Wanna do you from behind," Steve rasps against your skin, and his words make your pussy throb with anticipation. That's your favorite position— face pressed to the sheets, ass in the air, Steve's cock reaching so deep inside you you nearly see stars.

You get wetter just imagining it. 

"Mmm," you moan, and Steve smiles broadly, huffing a chuckle that puffs warm against your skin. 

"Knew you'd like that suggestion, baby." 

"You like it, too," you remind him as you climb off, crawling across the bed until your head is resting just below the pillows; you drop your shoulders, widening your knees, peeking back at him as you sway. "I know you like to watch my ass bounce." You're teasing, but it comes out breathy and desperate as you see the way Steve's looking at your exposed pussy still framed by berry-red lace— like he wants nothing more than to stuff you full, to pound you until all you can do is cry out for him. 

Steve pulls his boxers down his legs, lifting one knee and then the other to drag them impatiently off and let them drop to the bedroom floor. He's long and straight, with a pale pink head that disappears into his fist as he strokes himself once, eyes still intent on your pussy as you watch him. As hairy as Steve's chest is, he's very fastidious about keeping himself well-trimmed beneath the waist, which only makes him look longer as he draws closer until you can no longer see him. You drop your head, fingers tightening on the bedspread as something brushes against your swollen lips.

You anticipate the head of Steve's cock, but instead, you feel the press of his fingers; and though it's not what you expected, you sigh in pleasure as he dips inside, stroking and working your inner walls until you're burning for more. "Steve…" you whimper, and he knows what you're asking for. You feel him press a warm kiss to one plush cheek before he withdraws, knee brushing your calf as he lines up with your entrance. 

The initial stretch is always the most delicious, and today is no exception: you moan, a long, low sound of relief as he presses inside until he nudges up against the end of you. "Fuck," you hear him say, voice husky with need as his palm finds the middle of your back, the fingers of his other hand digging into the heft of your hip. You obey his silent request, pushing your chest down to the bed until your back is arched further for him. "So fuckin' hot, baby," Steve murmurs. And then he slides almost all the way out of you before thrusting sharply back in, finally beginning to fuck you.

Your fire burns bright, stoked by the quick, deep drag of Steve's cock inside you, his hips slapping into your ass, his balls swinging against your mound, his fingers gripping tight to your hips, holding you in place so he can fuck you hard. It's really intense, this angle; your toes curl, and your fingers fist into the bedding as you pant and moan out your pleasure. Steve is even more worked up today than usual, and the knowledge that he's so excited by your body just adds to the twisting flames and the tightening of your abdomen as he jolts against that spot inside you. 

"Oh, Steve," you whimper, breath heaving, body rocked by his deep thrusts. Through the thin material of your bra, the bedspread drags against your nipples, making them harden and igniting tiny sparks of pleasure that kindle the burn in your belly.

Steve's breathing hard, too, with ragged gasps as he works to pleasure you, groaning when you squeeze around him as he hits especially deep. And maybe it's the fact that you'd just spoken— just whined his name— but Steve chooses then to remind you of what you'd agreed to try with him.

"Baby," he says, voice hoarse and a little breathless but still careful, "Do you think you could, like… try, uh, talking more?" 

You've had your eyes scrunched closed, entirely focused on the feeling of Steve's cock pounding you, but they pop open at that. "Oh," you say, a little wobbly as your body continues to rock under the onslaught of his cock. "Yeah, o-okay." 

You try to think of what to say; you really do. Little snippets you've heard from Chrissy knock against each other in your head: 'bad girl,' 'punish me,' 'lick my cunt,' 'fuck toy,' 'dirty slut,' 'shit— goddamn— cock— whore—' 

They swirl together until they're whipping by, stinging your outstretched fingers as you try to grab one. They stick in your throat as your eyes dart, freeze spreading in your chest the longer you stay silent. Just say something, you plead with yourself, anything, anything at all. Just say, 'Fuck my dirty little pussy, Steve.'  

But you can't. The words won't come out.

Your nostrils flare, your eyes prickling with frustrated tears as Steve's hips slow slightly. Quickly, you try to speak, but all that comes out is a stammer: "I… I—"

Steve's fingers loosen on your hips, rubbing gently along the plush of your ass, and you whimper in response to his soothing touch— a small, almost pathetic sound. "It's fine, babe. Don't worry about it." 

The softness in his voice makes the tears prick more insistently as your stomach churns with guilt. It's all he'd asked of you, and you couldn't even try to do it. "Are you sure?" You ask, voice tiny.

Rather than replying, Steve stops moving inside you, pressing close, draping himself over your back, wrapping his firm arms around your middle to hold you tightly. His body covers yours, warming you instantly, lips pressing to your shoulder blades, dropping kisses wherever he can reach. You can feel him murmur against your skin, bangs brushing you as he speaks. "Of course. I'm sorry I brought it up." Quietly, tenderly, he adds, "All I care about is being with you."

You melt at the sincerity in his voice, breath escaping in a sigh as the freeze drips away. "Okay," you say, more assured now. 

Steve drops one more kiss to your back, lips warm and dry and lingering there as he presses his hips experimentally tighter to your ass. You hum, flame flickering again as his length shifts inside you. "You really look so fuckin' hot right now," he rasps quietly against your back, and you hum as the compliment kindles the flame higher. "I can't get enough of you."

You bite your lower lip, pressing back into him, encouraging him as he rotates his hips against you, grinding his length deep. "Mmm, Steve," you murmur, breath quickening. "That feels really good."

"Yeah?" He grinds against you again, groaning as you whimper, pressing back in kind. "You ready for me to fuck you how you like it again, baby?" 

A moan slips from your lips, pussy throbbing as the silk of his words caresses you. "Yeah," you say, and though the air is cold when his warm skin leaves your back, the fire that reignites is hot when he grabs hold of your hips again, pulling back and thrusting into you hard. 

"Ah!" You cry out as burning pleasure twists in your belly; Steve resumes his pace, fucking you fast and hard, cock reaching so deep it's almost too much. "Steve!" You whine loudly, fingers clutching desperately to the bed, holding on as his hips pound into you. He's sticking to you now, skin clinging with damp sweat on every impact, groans nearly constant as his pace turns frenetic, losing that consistent rhythm as he gets close. 

"Fuck, y/n, you're gonna make me cum, baby," Steve moans, and his words flare low, increasing your pleasure as you cry out for him again.

And then you feel Steve's cock jerk, hips slowing as he gasps a ragged breath, stifling those groans in his throat, jaw tight as he cums inside you. You moan with him, panting with exertion even though he'd been the one fucking you. As he finally stops moving, holding himself inside, you press further back against him, wanting him as deep as he can get, relishing that point of connection between you. 

"Shit," Steve sighs, a sound of deep contentment as he carefully pulls out of you. You tilt further forward, raising your ass higher as you hear Steve's hasty footsteps pad out of the bedroom, presumably on the way to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. That's confirmed when he returns, and you feel the warm brush of soft wet fabric against you, gently wiping as you lower down and walk your hands back until you have enough leverage to kneel up on the bed. "Thanks," you say, twisting to take the washcloth from him. Your eyes run over pink cheeks flushed from exertion, a fine sheen of sweat on his brow, and those roguishly disheveled brown waves flopping over his forehead. You smile, leaning forward at the same time he does for a soft kiss. When you part, Steve cups your cheek affectionately, pressing one more kiss to your temple before you head to the bathroom to finish cleaning up. 

You return to find him lounging on your rumpled bedding, scrolling on his phone; as he spots you, he drops it on the bedside table, opening his arms wide with a charming grin. You smile, climbing onto the bed, giggling as his strong arms close around you, pulling you down against him. You rest your chin on his chest, fingers playing in puffs of hair as he looks at you fondly. "Hey," he murmurs, arm slung across your back, fingers trailing lazy patterns as you lay half-across him. "I was thinking we could try that Indian fusion place for dinner tonight. I heard they have this habanero chicken tikka that's apparently knock-your-socks-off good."

You gaze into your boyfriend's face, whose eyes— their flecks of green, brown, and amber— are so comforting. So cherished. You feel a sudden surge of appreciation for him: for his sense of adventure, for the fresh experiences he provides you, for the plans he always makes for you to enjoy together. 

Your lips curl with a tender smile. "Sure. That sounds perfect."

-

It's around eight o'clock on Friday evening, and you're reclining on the loveseat, casually turning the pages of the novel you're currently reading called The Very Secret Society of Irregular Witches. It's a cozy little fantasy about an orphaned witch and her journey to find a new family, and you aren't too far in, but you're very much enjoying the writing style and the main character. You find yourself so absorbed that your eyes don't even once flick to the clock in anticipation of your guests' arrival or to the television where Steve is watching some college sports game with rapt fascination.

You've long been ready for tonight by now— since seven, in fact. You'd showered, shaved, exfoliated, and moisturized; dried and styled your hair, applied light makeup, chosen your outfit— a casual pair of ripped jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt, soft and clingy, low-cut and shirred at the bust— and slipped your red set on beneath it. It feels a little delicious to be wearing such casual clothes atop such sumptuous lingerie, like you're a precious stone wrapped deceptively in old newsprint. It really is a beautiful color, you'd thought as you pulled it out of your drawer, laying it gingerly out on the bedspread. Though the thought had occurred to you that the shade seemed awfully similar to the gash of red you'd once seen on stage, you dismissed it as happenstance. You were more concerned with the impact it would make tonight. Considering how Chrissy and Steve had reacted to you wearing it, you're curious to see if it will have a similar effect on Eddie.

When there's a knock at the door, you're the first one up, padding over before Steve has torn his eyes away from the television screen. It sounds like someone may have just scored the game-winning basket, judging by the raucous cheering that bursts from the speaker as the door swings open to reveal a lopsided grin and dark frizzy curls standing tall beside baby blue eyes and bouncy blonde waves.

"Hi, Chris!" You say warmly, and the television goes silent as you embrace her first, arms closing affectionately around her sharp shoulders. Bow lips kiss your cheek, and you press a return kiss to powdery-soft skin, giggling as she squeezes you extra tight before letting you go. She's dressed casually, too, in a pair of yoga pants and a thin fuzzy sweater. You meet eyes, pursing your lips against identical grins loaded with the knowledge of what's concealed underneath your hang-out clothes. 

You hear the greeting Steve and Chrissy exchange, followed by the soft smack of their lips, but your eyes don't stray from the black and white of the man before you: white Reeboks, black joggers, white t-shirt, black ink, pale quartz skin, midnight-dark curls. Casual, comfortable, not just in the way he's dressed, but also in the way his lips crook, one dimple emerging, brown eyes bright as he steps closer and pulls you in with one arm slung around your waist. 

"Hi," Eddie says, smoky and warm, chin tilting down.

"Hi," you echo, smile instinctual as you tilt up to kiss Eddie hello.

It's not a particularly long or deep kiss, but the press of Eddie's lips against yours makes those moth wings flutter nonetheless, swirling the smoke of his voice you've just inhaled.

Steve takes your place to greet his friend when you step away, and they clap each other roughly on the back as you look for Chrissy— she's in the kitchen, fridge door open as she bends to look inside. "Hey," you call to her, "can you bring over the fruit salad?" You fold yourself onto the big couch, one foot tucked comfortably beneath you, the other leg swinging as you sink back into the cushions.

"Sure!" You hear her reply, but your eyes are again drawn to Eddie as he approaches with a quirked brow, brown eyes twinkling as they bore into yours.

"You're gonna eat fruit salad during a horror movie? And here I thought I was the weirdo. Clearly, you've got me beat." 

You scrunch your nose, sticking your tongue out at him as he flops into the corner of the couch, legs spreading comfortably to own the space like he always does. Eddie huffs at your attitude, making your gesture his own but dialing up the drama— broad tongue lolling, stretched out to his chin as his brown eyes go wide. You try to stifle the snort in your throat, but it comes out anyway, just half-choked and squeaky. You look pointedly away, but not before seeing his lips curl with a tiny smug grin.

The sight of Chrissy carrying your glass bowl of fruit salad along with her hummus and pita chips is a welcome one, and you smile sweetly as you reach to take it, cradling it in the crook of your thighs. She drops her snacks to the coffee table, wry as she tells you, "I'm gonna supervise the drink-making— Steve tends to be a little heavy-handed on the vodka."

"Don't I know it," you reply, equally as wryly, eyes happily dipping to fruity goodness— mixed berries and plump purple grapes all crowded together, succulently tempting. You choose a grape and pop it into your mouth, relishing that first firm squish as your teeth burst the skin.

"Ugh." An exaggerated sound of disgust has your gaze slanting to the left, expression flat as you take in the crinkle of Eddie's soft nose and dark brow. He's well in the throw of his theatrics as he rants, "Where are the shitty snacks? Hot dogs, pringles, gummy worms. I'd even settle for the long-time partner of motion pictures: popcorn." He sounds like he's complaining, but as you see his eyes dance, you know he's just feigning it. "Is this really how you treat your guests? Fuckin' hummus and fruit?"

You roll your eyes so he can't see the mischief in them, plunking the bowl onto the coffee table with a sigh. You make sure to sound utterly fed up as you retort, "Oh, just eat a strawberry." Without giving him any time to react, you push the fruit past those smirking lips and into his mouth.

His suddenly slack face fills you with delight, and your suppressed smile breaks free as he stares you down while he starts to chew. You can tell he wasn't expecting you to do that, but that he isn't mad about it either. "This… is actually good," he says, talking through the mushy mouthful of red fruit, struggling to chew while his lips want to smile, face all puckered with effort, brown eyes fond.

"Could've told ya that," you say, reaching delicate fingers into your bowl and leaning casually back like you haven't just forcibly shoved fruit into a man's mouth. You pick out a raspberry, then a blueberry, then a blackberry, cycling through all the fruits until you get to another strawberry. 

But on its way to your mouth, your wrist is abruptly snatched and diverted toward that plush set of smirking lips. "Hey!" you exclaim, feigning outrage as Eddie tugs your arm toward him. Your elbow lands on his thigh as you unbalance; in your distraction, he steals your fruit with his teeth, expression utterly devilish as your mouth falls open indignantly. 

"What can I say? You've converted me," he quips, words thick with half-chewed fruit. "Just can't get enough of these strawberries. Who knew?" 

Your breath catches as his lips close over your index and middle fingers, playfully sucking any remnants of juice from your skin. You're torn between amusement and fluttering attraction as you feel the wet warmth of his mouth, the slide of his tongue against your fingertips, and the squishy mush of fruit inside that somehow manages to be both disgusting and just the slightest bit erotic at the same time. Eddie seems never to swallow before he starts to speak, perhaps because he's speaking almost constantly, and you're seeing the evidence of that first-hand now.

You're torn for a moment, trying to decide which impulse to act on— amusement, arousal, or disgust. In the end, playful amusement wins out.

"Ugh!" You echo his exclamation from earlier, yanking your fingers from his mouth and wiping them off dramatically on your jeans. You wag a finger at him, expression stern like you're reprimanding a dog, though a chuckle breaks through as you scold him. "Now stop that! Get your own fruit!"

Grinning widely as if he's delighted you've decided to play with him, Eddie leans toward you, folding his expression into an exaggeration of petulance. "But I want your fruit—!" You dodge his grabby hands, snatching the bowl and turning away, stiff arm against his chest, giggling as you deny him.

A soft voice, tinged with exasperation, interjects. "Children, children," Chrissy says, and Eddie withdraws immediately, lounging back into the corner of the couch, elbow casual against the armrest as if he hadn't just been nearly wrestling you for the fruit bowl. You shift over to make room for her, tilting towards her as she sinks between you, primly handing over the plastic cups she's carrying and keeping one for herself.

You peer into your cup, lips puckering at the transparent liquid inside. "If I drink this, it's not just gonna be straight vodka, right?"

She smiles fondly, weaving her arm through yours. "Don't worry, I kept Steve under control."

"You're supposed to wait for the movie to start, dude. That's the whole point of a drinking game." You look at Steve as he sits down on your other side, puzzled for just a moment until you glance to the left to see who he's talking to. Of course.

As he lowers his cup, Eddie grins wolfishly. "Just getting a head start, Stevie," he replies, and Steve shakes his head as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. It's a snug fit on the big couch with the four of you— Steve's thigh is pressed up against yours, hip warm where he's squishing you between his solid side and Chrissy's thin frame beneath her soft fuzzy sweater. But if you have to watch a horror movie, this is how you'd prefer to do it: enveloped by comforting warmth, surrounded by limbs you can latch to when your heart inevitably starts to hammer in your chest. 

"Are we gonna turn off the lights?" Chrissy asks, sounding eager, and you suppress your reluctant whine as Steve extricates himself from you to oblige. As the apartment is plunged into darkness, you nestle back into the couch cushions, plastic cup under your nose, somewhat trying to hide behind it.

"How scary is this movie?" You ask, carefully neutral though your stomach is already squirming with nerves. No one seems to be as distressed as you, not even Chrissy, who, though she's already clinging to Eddie, has an excited gleam in her eye. So you keep the extent of your discomfort to yourself. Mercifully, Steve soon settles back beside you, the comfort of his citrus and sea salt cologne smooth in your nose.

"I keep forgetting you've never seen Halloween, babe," he says, and you glance at him to see his hazel eyes are shiny with the reflection of the television— the only source of light in the room. "It's, like, a classic."

"Well," you grumble, "I'm only here to get drunk. What is it again?" Your gaze darts to the ceiling as you try to remember. "Drink when you see a knife, drink when you see a pumpkin—"

"How 'bout you just drink when you get scared," Eddie suggests, lips crooking with a playful grin as you glance at him, pouting. "That way, it'll get less scary the drunker you get."

You huff, torn between amusement and exasperation. "Sounds perfect," you say, voice edged with sarcasm.

Chrissy's arm tightens around yours. "It'll be okay," she says, shooting you an encouraging smile. "Just hold onto Steve and me." 

Her sweetness warms you, and you snuggle into her side, taking a subtle bracing breath as Steve starts the movie. Here goes nothing.

Halloween isn't nearly as terrifying as some of the other modern horror movies you've had the displeasure of seeing— it doesn't seem to be trying to induce heart attacks through jump scares and gruesome effects. Instead, it smolders with tension, though some shocking moments still have your hand frantically clutching for Steve's fingers and your head ducking against Chrissy's shoulder. You drink when you see the others drink and take some little sips in between, too, falling into a state where your body is half-loose with alcohol and half-wound tight with adrenaline. Midway through the movie, Eddie stretches his arm along the back of the couch, and when you notice it, you toss a wary glance his way, anticipating an attempt to scare you. It preoccupies you, the promise— or the threat— of his calloused hand, a constant presence behind your head, though when he doesn't return your glance, you go back to halfheartedly watching the screen. 

When you jolt as Michael suddenly appears in the kitchen to kill Bob, and Eddie's hand shifts, dread spikes as you assume the worst. But his fingers are gentle on the back of your head, and he cradles your skull in his broad palm. Your breathing settles as he plays with your hair, scratching your scalp affectionately while a knife pins Bob to the wall in a gravity-defying display of violence. Truthfully, it's a welcome distraction, and you lean into his touch, eyes flickering from Michael's eerie head tilt to Eddie's shadowed face. When he notices you looking, a smile soft on your lips, a corner of his lips crooks back at you before his attention returns to the movie. Though his hand withdraws not long after, you sigh a slow breath out of your nose, strengthened now despite the lingering suspense of the film. You even find yourself cheering Laurie on with the others when she has her final showdown with Michael, nerves almost entirely forgotten as you get caught up in your desire for her triumph. And the ominous final image of Michael's missing body, complete with his signature heavy breathing, has you grinning instead of cowering at the twist.

"So," Steve asks you when it ends, "what did you think?"

"Mmm." You twist your lips, begrudgingly admitting, "I guess it wasn't that bad." You don't want to encourage Steve too much, lest he thinks you'll be willing to watch more scary movies with him after this.

"Did you get drunk?" Chrissy blinks at you innocently, and you peer down into your cup to find it mostly empty. You feel warm and loose and a little floaty, but not excessively so.

You answer noncommittally. "Kinda?"

She beams. "Then that's all that matters." You chuckle, setting your cup on the coffee table as the guys get up from the couch. 

Steve stretches his arms above his head, cracking his neck to the side, and your eyes are drawn to the sliver of skin between his t-shirt and the waistline of his jeans. He eyes you and Chrissy where you still sit on the couch together. "Shall we move this into the bedroom, ladies?" He asks, trying to be suave as he runs a hand through his hair before folding his arms against his chest in that move men use to show off their biceps.

You share a look with Chrissy. "Despite how lame that line was," you tease him, "I think we're probably still in." She giggles as Steve pouts. 

"Hmmm…" Chrissy plays along, waffling her shoulders. "I'm not sure… that may have been a little too cheesy for me. I might just head home."

"Aw, come on," Steve says, face falling at your teasing. You take Chrissy's hand in both of yours, shuffling backward as you pull her lightly toward the bedroom— guiding more than pulling her, really, since she's giggling as she walks forward with you. 

"You can do it, Chrissy," you coax, eyes wide and encouraging as your heels hit the bedroom carpet. "Persevere through the cheese. You're so close… almost there—"

"Rah!" Your heart leaps into your throat as hands clutch your shoulders from behind, accompanied by a playful, gravelly shout. 

Your scream is not so playful— you screech, loud and genuinely afraid as your chest spikes with icy panic.

Chrissy frowns, stalking past you as the hands quickly release your shoulders. "Eddie!" She growls his name sharply, face all scrunched up as you twist to watch him back away. He heaves with chuckles even as he eyes Chrissy plaintively, gasping,

"Wait, Chris, come on, I'm sorry, I'm— ow!" Eddie braces an arm protectively against his stomach to ward off further smacks, looking simultaneously amused and rueful as he cowers from his much shorter girlfriend. It's the first time you've seen Chrissy actually get upset, and you can't help but think she looks somewhat like a pissed-off chipmunk. She'd be scary if she weren't so cute.

"Don't apologize to me," she says hotly, crossing her arms and cocking a hip. "Apologize to y/n. Now." And after leveling him with one last withering once-over, she stomps away with a sharp huff, leaving you with Eddie in the bedroom.

Your heart is still racing, but the panic has eased now that you're past the initial shock. Eddie peers at you, face falling into sheepishness as he takes in your tense expression. He edges toward you slowly, mouth pulling into a crooked line of contrition, but you don't budge. Eventually, he stops a short distance from you; his head tilts, eyebrows raising as he opens his arms in silent offering. It seems he's letting you decide whether or not to accept his offer of a hug.

For a second, you just stare at him, annoyed that he would scare you when you thought he'd known how nervous you were during the movie. But those brown eyes are gentle now, the way you've noticed they get sometimes. And you know Eddie was just trying to play around with you; you suppose that, in his mind, he was continuing what you'd started when you shoved a strawberry in his mouth. So you close the gap, looking up at him dully as you draw near. 

The crooked line of his mouth tilts with a tiny smile as Eddie hugs you, arms wrapping snugly around your back, and despite yourself, you sling your arms around his narrow waist, chin propped against his shoulder. "I'm sorry," Eddie murmurs, voice puffing like hushed smoke against the side of your face and rumbling through his chest and into yours. "I didn't think you'd scream like that." 

You pout for one more moment in sullen silence before you relent. "It's fine," you grumble. "Just don't ever scare me again."

You feel Eddie's chest jump against yours as he chuckles once, but despite his laugh, his reply is sincere. "I won't."

And you expect him to let you go then— after all, his apology has been accepted. But Eddie doesn't release you yet. Instead, he sways you back and forth, just slightly, long enough to get you to sigh deeply as you relax into him. Your nose tucks against ticklish curls, inhaling smoke and delicate apples. "I'm sorry," he says again, quieter than before, lips grazing your temple as he turns his face toward you.

Your breath catches as his lips brush your skin, belly fluttering with wild wings as you feel his arms shift, palms dragging across your back in a slow caress. "It's okay," you whisper. And you've had your fingers wrapped around your wrist, locked behind the small of his back. But as Eddie shifts, as he touches you tenderly, after a moment, you touch him, too. You release your wrist to press your palms against his back, skin hot through his t-shirt. When you run them slowly upwards, smoothing over the plane of his back, Eddie's ribcage expands into yours in a deep breath, adam's apple bobbing as he presses you closer to him. And that earlier fear is nowhere to be found now; instead, you feel held. Cradled. 

Safe in Eddie's arms, like his calloused fingers are tending you somehow.

You can hear footsteps behind you, and you both loosen your arms and turn towards the bedroom doorway, where Chrissy is leading the forge with Steve close behind.

Her gaze whips directly to Eddie. "Did you apologize?" 

"Yes, yes, Chris, I apologized," you hear him say, though you're preoccupied with the soft embrace Steve wraps you in, citrus and solid limbs enfolding you against a broad torso. 

"You okay?" 

"Yeah," you sigh, and you mean it. "I'm fine. He was just joking around. He didn't mean to be mean."

Steve chuckles against your hair. "Sounds like Munson," he says, dry and fond. "As long as you're good."

You pull back slightly to smile as you meet Steve's hazel eyes. "I'm fine," you say more firmly, and Steve seems to accept that, smiling back as his arms release you gently.

As you pad across the bedroom carpet to wrap your arms around Chrissy's shoulders from behind, tucking your chin against her fuzzy sweater, any lingering tension is dispelled. Voice lightly teasing, you say, "Thank you for coming to my defense, my knight-ess in shining armor, but I think our good bard here has been thoroughly vanquished. He's sworn never to frighten me again."

You grin up at Eddie from your place on Chrissy's shoulder as his lips crook, cheek dimpling at you. "A solemn vow," Eddie says, palm on his chest as he dips into a shallow bow. "One that shall never be broken upon pain of excruciating death."

You feel Chrissy huff a chuckle. "So dramatic," she says as she clasps your forearms, squeezing once before letting you draw away. As she turns, you detect the glint in her blue eyes as they fall on your boyfriend. "Well," she says, bow lips curving in a sultry smile, "In that case… Steve, would you like to do the honors of unwrapping this present?"

She motions down her body with a delicate hand, and you watch as Steve's eyebrows shoot up, face lighting with zeal. As she saunters over to him, you turn back to Eddie to see his dark eyes watching you, assessing. But the weight of his stare no longer overwhelms you with nerves like it had the first few times you'd spent together. You aren't hesitant to draw close to him, eyes on your fingers as they reach out and dip beneath the hem of his white t-shirt, dragging lightly along his waist. 

When you look up at him again, Eddie's brown eyes are warm as he allows you to push his shirt up his stomach. You gather the fabric as it reveals pale quartz skin and the dark obsidian of his inked body armor. "Are you nervous?" he asks quietly, slowly drawing his arms through the sleeves as you guide the shirt up to his neck. Gently, you pull it over his head as you consider the question. You can't deny that some nerves writhe in your stomach as you think about what you're all preparing to do— why you're undressing one another, how this occasion will become something more than what you've all done together before. You've pleasured each other in other ways, but there's something… different about knowing that Steve would soon be inside Chrissy and Eddie would soon be inside you.

"Just a little," you answer truthfully, laying Eddie's t-shirt on your nearby dresser. Your fingers dip to the waistband of his joggers, fingers pulling the string to unravel the bow as you admit, "But mostly, I'm excited."

You can hear the smile in Eddie's voice as he replies quietly, "Yeah, me too." His words flutter those moth wings again, and a small smile blooms on your face as you carefully lift the elastic of his black sweatpants, tugging them down his legs to reveal a loose pair of checkered boxers. He steps out of his joggers as they pool around his feet, pale legs long and gangly as he extricates himself, hand landing on your clothed shoulder for balance. He chuckles at himself as he finally kicks the pants out of the way, and a fond smile tugs at your lips as you meet his eyes, warmed to deep amber in the soft light of your bedroom. "Okay if I take these off?" he asks, thumb rubbing lightly against the button of your high-waisted jeans.

You swallow thickly, fluttering wings and nerves kicking up at the sudden imminence of your new lingerie finally being revealed to him. Still, you nod, voice quiet but unwavering as you confirm your permission. "Yes."

Eddie's calloused fingers are careful as he pops the button and tugs down your zipper, reaching inside to find the hem of your black shirt tucked into your jeans. He peels the soft fabric up your torso and over your breasts, and your nipples harden behind the sheer fabric as they're exposed to the cool air. As your shirt joins Eddie's atop the dresser— albeit in a little crumpled pile of Eddie-typical carelessness— you stare at it, suddenly shy, delaying the moment where you'll look at Eddie's face and see his reaction. Eddie pauses before his fingers find the waistband of your jeans again, moving slightly faster now as he works to remove your pants. You feel the denim drag down your legs until it's gathered around your ankles. 

"Lean on my shoulder." Eddie's voice is hoarse as he rasps his instruction, and your eyes dart to his face, widening as you see him: he's on his knees before you, dark curls wild around his face and kissing his shoulders, plush lips pink and parted slightly as he stares up at you with those eyes. They're startlingly dark now, dark with heat, with smoke and promise as you obey. Your fingers twitch against his warm skin as your hand covers the ink of his shoulder, and you lift your foot for him. Eddie stares at you for a moment longer before his eyes dip almost reluctantly to his hands as he pulls the jeans from one foot and then the other. His fingers briefly skim the back of your soft calves, raspy touch featherlight as you take a sharp breath— and then he's rising fluidly, towering over you again, nearly-bare body close to yours as you tip your chin to maintain contact with his face. Because you couldn't tear your gaze from him if you tried— from that sharp jaw, that strong chin, that soft nose, those full pink lips, and those eyes, wide and framed by long lashes, lit from within as he devours the sight of you in delicate red lace. His gaze lingers on the swell of your breasts, the dusk of your hardened nipples, the softness of your belly, the curve of your hips, the red embroidery that conceals the promise of your heat.

And the way Eddie is looking at you— when you'd imagined how he might react, you hadn't envisioned this.

Eddie's fingers trace the curve of your waist, trailing fire in their wake, and you tingle as they meet your skin. "Wow," Eddie says quietly. "You look…" He trails off, and a crease forms in your brow, expression hesitant, vulnerable. His eyes find yours as he finishes his thought. 

"You're beautiful." 

And Eddie's voice is husky with desire, but there's something more— something gentle, something sincere, something you can almost taste on the back of your tongue. 

Your smile blooms, sweet and melty. Roots stretch, quivering further down into the fertile peat at the bottom of you. But now, a tendril of green also peeks through the dark, striving to emerge from the earth. Small, fragile. 

Alive.

Firm arms snake around your waist from behind and the trails of fire fall from you as a bare chest presses to your back. As Steve hugs you, you turn your head to watch Chrissy's sensuous approach as she draws close to you and Eddie. Her fuchsia lingerie set looks incredible on her— breasts succulently lifted by her push-up bra, straps crisscrossing her trim hips, the bow sitting low on her mound to reveal the smooth skin underneath, teasing a glimpse of her bare shave. Steve kisses the curve of your neck, and Chrissy twirls showily as she sees you and Eddie looking, shoulder cocked, delicate hand bracing on the willowy curve of her waist.

"C'mere," Eddie says playfully, and Chrissy squeals, giggling as he snatches her around the waist, tugging her against him and dipping her in his arms. Steve drops more kisses along the column of your throat, squeezing you close as Eddie's hand cups the nape of Chrissy's neck, plush lips pressing to the happy curve of her smile.

Steve's voice is awed and nearly incredulous behind you. "Shit, you two really look so fucking amazing."

Chrissy presses her cheek to Eddie's, blue eyes brilliant as she tips her chin down coquettishly. "Why thank you, Steve," she replies, voice pitched low and sultry. 

Steve hums, and your breath catches as his lips skim your ear, quickly finding that sensitive place at the corner of your jaw. "This look still hits hard, babe," he murmurs to you. "Can't wait to get my hands on you again." A slight breathy moan escapes your lips as he cups your breasts, palming their weight as you lean back against him, eyes falling to half-lidded. 

Your buzz hits you suddenly as Steve touches you while Eddie and Chrissy watch, flooding warm through your veins as he guides you to the bed. Hazy, floaty, and loose, you fall against the duvet, and Steve follows you closely. The king-sized bed is more than big enough to accommodate Steve as he hovers half over you, cupping your jaw as his lips descend on yours. It's more than big enough to accommodate Chrissy as she lays down on your other side, bouncy waves tickling your bare shoulder, thin arm brushing yours as she shifts. And it's more than big enough to accommodate Eddie as he stretches out on the other side of Chrissy, smoke voice rumbling in the barest moan as you hear the unmistakable sound of their kissing— lips smacking, mouths moving like yours and Steve's are. Steve runs an eager hand down your body, wasting no time to dip between your legs, and your knee falls open for him as he begins to explore you, rubbing slow, teasing strokes up and down your pussy without dipping inside, without lingering where you need him most. Your eyes close and your hand blindly seeks the edge of Steve's jaw, holding his face as you kiss him deeply, trying to encourage him to touch you where you need it with the fervor of your lips. After a long moment, after he's teased you enough to make you feel a little desperate, Steve obliges. He starts to touch your clit, one finger brushing lightly against it at the same time that you hear Chrissy sigh, high and feminine, "Yeah, Eddie, right there…." 

The sound of her pleasure encourages your own, and your hips twitch up into Steve's hand, tongue searching for his as you moan again. And in an undulating kaleidoscope of moving bodies, heavy breaths, quiet groans, airy moans, wet tongues, hot skin, and pressing digits, you all encourage each other's pleasure until Steve is fingering you deeply, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit as you throb, as that fire begin to smolder inside. Beside you, you can feel the slight rhythmic shifting of Chrissy's body as Eddie fingers her, too; and as your head falls to the side while Steve sucks on your neck, Chrissy's warm breath ghosts your lips as she pants lightly. 

"Mmm," you hum as Steve adds a second finger, stretching you open, insistent in his demand for your fire to increase. The sensations are almost overwhelming as your heart thumps hard in your chest, pumping desire and alcohol through your veins: the warm brush of Chrissy's body against yours, the wet sounds of the fingers moving inside you both, the hint of Eddie and Steve's subtle grunts and groans as they enjoy giving you pleasure. You feel Steve unlatch from your neck as your nose brushes Chrissy's, your mouth half-open as you sigh, a hairs-breadth from her pink bow lips.

"You should kiss," Steve mumbles, and your lashes part to reveal the sight of baby blue eyes, hazy and heated beneath strawberry-blonde bangs. "Kiss each other," he encourages, his other hand finding your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple as he continues to finger you deeply.

In the languid heat of your drunken pleasure, the idea of feeling someone else's lips on yours as Steve fingers you is appealing, and the smoldering flames flicker, spreading at the thought. You blink, searching her expression for a moment until her gaze drops to your lips. And when she tips her chin, you lean in, shifting closer to press your mouth to hers.

Chrissy's lips are delicate, and the experience of kissing her is distinctly feminine compared to kissing Eddie or Steve. Maybe it's the softness of her skin, or the scent of her perfume, or the flavor of her mouth— sweeter than theirs, a sweetness you've already tasted after Steve kissed her during Strip or Dare, just stronger now.

After a moment, Chrissy's mouth opens, tongue swirling against the seam of your lips as she tilts her head— and you notice that Chrissy is much less careful than Eddie was when he kissed you for the first time. When Steve groans low in his throat, she instantly becomes bolder, pink tongue darting into your mouth as soon as you open your lips, licking wet and sloppy. You're taken off guard at first, but you try to keep up with her as she sucks your lower lip into her mouth, the aggressive sting surprising you as she nips it. "Shit," you hear Steve groan, and Eddie hums as Chrissy releases you, lips pink and slick as you both withdraw, resting your heads back against the sheets, still facing each other. 

Steve's fingers are pressing harder into you, your body rocking with the force of his hand as your gaze darts from Chrissy to Eddie— his eyes are half-lidded and hazy as he drops kisses against her shoulder, the dark ink of his arm draped across her body, pale hand moving rhythmically between her legs as her hips undulate up into him. You watch Chrissy's face as you feel Steve prop up on an elbow behind you, husking an eager question. "Can you do that again?"

Since you're watching Chrissy's face, you see the moment her blue eyes suddenly glint, a little cheeky smile tugging at her bow lips. "Only if you and Eddie kiss."

The rhythm of Steve's fingers falters inside you, and Eddie's head pops up, brown eyes widening, dark curls brushing Chrissy's porcelain skin as he looks past you at Steve. His face is skeptical, and you know without looking that Steve is sporting the same expression behind you. When they're silent, Chrissy adds, voice low and sultry, "Come on… it's only fair."

You're not especially invested in the idea of them kissing, but since Steve is the one who suggested you and Chrissy kiss, you do agree with her. "Kind of a double standard otherwise," you point out.

Eddie eyes Steve, brow still furrowed in a doubtful frown, and you hear Steve swallow hard behind you. "I guess…" Steve says non-committally, clearly unsure.

Chrissy's cheeky smile widens as she stretches out, legs long and shapely against the sheets, head cocking as she glances between Steve and Eddie. You've never seen her look so devilish, words sultry and loaded. "If it's a good kiss, I promise we'll make it worth your while."

You wonder what she means— her voice seems to tease at more than just another kiss between you. But you don't have long to dwell on it as Steve's hand suddenly stops moving between your legs. When he pulls out his fingers, you glance to see him with eyebrows raised, head rearing as if to say, 'Why not?' And when you look back at Eddie, he's no longer frowning or quite as skeptical. Instead, his mouth is pressed into a long, thin line of acceptance. "Are we doing this?" Eddie asks, half-disbelieving, and despite your earlier ambivalence, heat sparks low as you hear Steve say,

"Yeah, I think we're doing this, man."

Steve kneels up, and you bend your legs to make room as Eddie does the same. You and Chrissy cuddle close, eyes rapt on the forms of your boyfriends as they shuffle towards each other on their knees. Your gaze dips, catching on cocks still half-hard behind tight black briefs and loose checkered boxers, and you drape an arm across Chrissy's waist as your heart begins to race with anticipation. 

You've never been especially turned on by the concept of men kissing. You know that other girls find it hot, and you don't have any problem with it, but it's never been particularly arousing for you. But suddenly, the concept of these two men— whose mouths have explored your heat, whose tongues have dipped into your pussy— kissing each other with those same lips is wildly erotic. 

Of course, this is still Steve and Eddie, so you almost can't hold back from rolling your eyes as Steve stops moving closer and exclaims, "Dude, stop staring into my eyes like that." 

The exclamation is followed by Eddie's typical wide smirk. "What, like this?" He flutters his eyelashes coquettishly, pursing his lips, exaggerating a kissy face as he leans close. Steve shoves his shoulder hard, but Eddie just laughs, husky and deep in his amusement. You feel Chrissy shake her head in exasperation beside you as they push each other around a bit before Steve gets fed up. "All right, come on," he says.

And then they're close enough to touch, a careful distance between their waists and bottom halves. Steve's hand lands on Eddie's upper arm, and Eddie braces against Steve's shoulder as they lean in. Eyes wide, you watch raptly as they draw close, hesitating for a moment before their lips meet. 

It's tentative, light, about as chaste as chaste can be until Chrissy reminds them in a sing-song, "Make it good.” And then Steve and Eddie mouths begin moving more firmly. And at the sight of those masculine faces pressing close— Eddie's plush pink lips on Steve's, the tiny flash of Steve's tongue— your pussy pulses hard, heat throbbing insistently in your lower half, thighs rubbing together to try to bring relief. You hear Chrissy sigh a breathy moan, fingers drawing down your side as she watches them with you. Steve and Eddie don't kiss for long, but when they break away, you can feel how much slicker you suddenly are.

When the men glance at you both, their cheeks are stained pink, unimpressed as you and Chrissy titter with glee, clutching at each other. "Hope you enjoyed that," Eddie says wryly. 

"Oh, we did," Chrissy says with wicked delight, and you nod your enthusiastic agreement. "Go stand next to each other," she adds, voice almost a purr, tipping her chin to indicate the end of the bed. "And take out your cocks."

The men scramble to oblige, and Chrissy guides you by the arm toward them as their boxers are unceremoniously dropped and kicked away. She slinks to the floor, and you follow her, albeit a little less fluidly. Still, any concern you may have felt about your awkwardness whisps from your head as you take in the sight before you: Steve and Eddie side by side, solid tanned bulk next to limber predatory paleness, their lengths bobbing closeby. You kneel, still unsure what Chrissy has planned; you glance at her to see dainty fingers wrapping around the base of Steve's long cock, bow lips smirking sensually as she murmurs, "Join me, y/n."

Your eyes widen, and a thrill tingles down your spine as you suddenly understand her intention. And Steve seems to realize at the same time you do; he exhales a sharp breath, hips twitching slightly as Chrissy's tongue outstretches, wagging tantalizingly near the pale pink of his tip but not yet touching. Your face draws closer until you can detect the heat radiating from Steve's throbbing head, feeling utterly naughty as you stick out your tongue to match Chrissy's.

And then, together, you lick up both sides of Steve's cock.

Your eyes dart to Steve's face as his mouth falls open and he watches with helpless fascination as you and Chrissy lavish his length. You lick along his side, base to tip and then back again, lips curling as you watch Chrissy tongue lazily at his slit. "Oh, fuck," Steve groans, head tipping back as you suck underneath the base before drawing your lips to his tip, face close to Chrissy's. Together, as if you'd coordinated it, you begin to lick kittenishly at his head, tasting the salty musk of his precum, tongues brushing as you drag them against his heated flesh. "Shit, that feels so—" Steve cuts off with a desperate grunt as Chrissy wraps her lips around him, sucking sharply as you latch to the side.

As Steve's breathing becomes ragged, you register a second set of labored breaths. Your eyes flick to Eddie's as if by instinct; his gaze is locked on your faces, on your lips as you and Chrissy suck Steve's cock. You flush hotter under the intensity of his stare, and automatically, you reach out for him, hand drawing lightly up his calf, fingers tickled by his sparse hair. Chrissy pops off Steve then with a wet smack, pressing one last teasing kiss to his head. "Worth it?" she asks, looking up at him with a foxy smile. 

Steve runs a hand roughly through his brown waves, disheveling them. "Yeah," he replies, wide eyes darting to his friend as you and Chrissy shift your attention. "Dude, this is so fucking hot," Steve mutters, and you watch Eddie's adam's apple bob in a hard swallow as you and Chrissy settle before him, dark eyes flitting back and forth between you. You throb as your gaze settles on his thick length, which sticks proudly from that thatch of dark hair that trails upward to his navel. You lick up the side as Chrissy takes Eddie's head into her mouth without hesitation, bobbing deep as he moans hoarsely. But the sight of those dark curls ignites something carnal in you, so after a moment, you lick back down to Eddie's base to shove your nose, your face against the hair there. Eddie's scent is musky, heady, tantalizing as you kiss his heated skin, tongue darting out to taste the underside of his cock as Chrissy continues to suck him insistently. 

You glance up to see the evidence of your attentions, the reactions you so desire: that pink flush on Eddie's cheeks, that jaw tightened with tension, those eyes dark and inky. Eddie hums, higher than usual, as you mouth downwards, seeking more of his reactions. You suck one of his balls into your mouth, pulling lightly as you watch him with rapt attention. A little desperate crease forms between his brows; his nostrils flare, and his plush lips fall open in a delicious moan. The sight and the sound have you pulsing, desire twisting in your belly at the sudden desperation in his expression.

Abruptly, his calloused fingers are in your hair, tightening against your scalp, and when you moan around Eddie's ball, his hips jolt as he gasps. "Okay, okay," he rasps, voice tight and high as his other hand finds Chrissy's head, stilling her movements. "That's…" he chuckles breathlessly, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out as a sharp sigh. "Shit." 

Chrissy giggles as she pops off his tip, and you release him gently, instinctually leaning into his touch as his fingers flex against your scalp, scratching slowly. "Alright," Chrissy says, looking up at the two men. "We've had our fun. I think it's time for the main event."

Your stomach flutters at her pronouncement, wild wings and nerves mixing as you watch her rise fluidly, blue eyes locked on hazel. Your gaze flicks to amber brown. Eddie's eyes are deep and heated with desire as he stares down at you, his hand finally falling from your hair as you stand up. 

You're all silent for a brief moment before Steve runs a hand through touseled brown waves. "So, how are we doing this?" His eyes dart around the group, landing on each of you briefly. "I could flip a coin," he offers. And it strikes you as almost ridiculous— that you should decide which mixed couple will have sex first with a coin toss. But, considering the very prescriptive plan for how you're about to have sex, you suppose it doesn't make things much odder.

When you'd decided to try penetrative sex for the first time, Steve had been adamant that it be structured as follows: that one couple would have sex while the other watches and that you'd then switch roles— observers and performers. This was to ensure that everyone could enjoy the experience of both watching and participating, Steve had said. The logistics of it— how the guy would stand at the end of the bed and the girl would lay down on her back, surrounded on both sides— felt a little… Handmaid's Tale -esque to you. Unnatural. Almost a little transactional. But Steve had invested a great deal of time and energy in convincing the group of this, so you weren't going to question it.

Steve manages to find a quarter, and the sight of his hard cock bouncing as he flicks the coin in the air and slaps it onto the back of his hand is almost comical. "Call it," he tells Eddie. 

"Tails," Eddie says, and the flutters and nerves surge wildly in your stomach. 

Because when Steve reveals the toss, there's a fifty-fifty chance that Eddie's about to fuck you.

Steve lifts his palm, peering down at the result. Your eyes don't leave his face, breath caught in your throat until his gaze darts to Chrissy. "It's heads," he says, hazel eyes wide as Chrissy beams, blue eyes shining. 

Steve watches her, grinning as Chrissy flounces onto the duvet, taking his place at the foot of the bed as you and Eddie lay out on either side of her. And your head is thoroughly swimming now when you pillow it on Chrissy's shoulder and she wraps her thin arm around you. You blink slowly as you watch her reach down, pink-painted fingers wrapping around Eddie's thick length; your eyes catch on Steve's broad hand as he presses Chrissy’s thighs open for him. And then they dart restlessly, catching on fuchsia and ink and skin and skin and skin until they settle, finally, on your boyfriend's face as Steve lines the head of his cock up with Chrissy's entrance. 

It's surreal— the moment Steve pushes inside, disappearing into Chrissy as his hips cant forward, long bangs falling in a tumble over his forehead, dusting his eyelashes. You can feel her body shift against yours with the press of his hips, almost as if it's you he's fucking. But Steve's not fucking you. He's fucking Chrissy, sweet Chrissy with her powdery-soft smiles and her expensive perfume and her trim waist and her bow lips that open in a long, feminine moan as Steve slides home to the hilt. And it feels like there's a brief pause, a moment where things hang suspended, motionless, like the last few silent seconds of a song before the next track begins. In that pause, you suck in a slow breath, mixed emotions swirling as your gaze drags over the familiar curve of Steve's biceps, the thick hair on his chest, the breadth of his torso, the dip of his navel, and then the thin, pale legs spread open by his hands, splayed apart for Steve to take what he wants. For him to give Chrissy what she wants.

And then he's moving.

You can feel the brush of Chrissy's hair against your forehead, the sway of her body as Steve begins to thrust into her, strokes long and even as she arches her back against the duvet, a seductive stretch that accentuates the lithe lines of her body. You can see Eddie on the other side of her, the darkness of his wild curls as he ducks to her neck, kissing her there as Steve rocks her body. "Mmm," Chrissy moans, a sensual purr of satisfaction. "That's it, Steve— fuck me hard. Give it to me good, baby." 

He groans, lips pulled into a crooked smirk as he increases his pace, fucking Chrissy harder, hips slapping into flesh as the rocking of her body against you intensifies. "Oh fuck, you're so goddamn tight—"

So that's the kind of talking Steve was looking for. That swirl of emotion flares within you again— amorphous, scrambled, not entirely pleasant as you watch your boyfriend's eager eyes lock on Chrissy's perky breasts bouncing within fuchsia padding. Chrissy whimpers, fingers tightening against your waist and around Eddie's cock as she whines, "Touch me." 

You realize quickly that she doesn't mean Steve— he's already touching her, fingers pressing into her thighs, holding on tight as he drives into her. She must mean Eddie; she must mean you. So you oblige her: you gently touch her trim waist, fingers dragging featherlight against smooth skin as you draw your hand toward her belly button, up to her ribs, tracing random patterns. She sighs and hums, filthy words of encouragement spilling from her lips, egging Steve on. 

You don't watch the path of your hand as you touch her; instead, your eyes are locked on Steve's face, on the pinch of his brow, the heat you can see swirling behind his hazel eyes as he voices his desire. So it takes you by surprise when you feel the brush of calloused fingers against yours— fingers too rough to be Chrissy's, too far away to be Steve's. Your hand pauses, eyes darting to see limber fingers beneath ruddy knuckles, ghosting softly over yours.

Your breath catches as the raspy touch tingles your skin, fluttering low in your belly as Eddie's hand touches yours while you both caress Chrissy like she'd asked. You lift your head slightly to peek at his face, and your heart thumps as you see him looking back— dark eyes like molten ink, thick and drippy with promise. 

Eddie's fingers leave yours after the briefest moment, continuing their journey across Chrissy's body, and you do the same, tracing a path low on her hips. But the contact has shifted something within you. Whereas before, you'd been torn watching Steve fuck Chrissy, emotions swirling into a cloud approaching unease, you're now more focused on the tease of Eddie's touch, the anticipation of what's soon to come. You let your hand wander back towards Chrissy's middle, exploring, testing, hoping to feel the rasp of Eddie's fingertips again. And as his hand mosies across her skin— cupping her breast briefly, dragging over her side, dipping to her hip and then back up— it happens again. His hand finds yours, warm and rough as he draws his fingers over your hand, and your heart thumps as you feel it, a new feeling emerging within the emotional swirl inside. You tease Chrissy's ribs, dragging the backs of your fingers up her side before curving over to meet Eddie's hand again. And this time, you're the one to touch him: you stroke across the back of his hand, thumb brushing ruddy knuckles as your eyes flit to meet his again, finding molten ink as if by instinct.

Chrissy tilts her head then, and Eddie's eyes break from yours as she nudges toward him. "Mmm, baby, you're so hard," she murmurs sensually. "Is it turning you on, watching him fuck me like this?" 

You watch Eddie's full pink lips quirk with a tiny smile, but he doesn't reply; he just kisses her. You blink, eyes darting away to watch the rhythm of Steve's hips instead. You curl a little closer to Chrissy's rocking body, head slipping lower as you gaze up at your boyfriend. It strikes you how handsome he is then— how strong he looks as his abdomen rolls, skin damp with sweat, hair tousled attractively over his brow and against his neck as he works Chrissy to their mutual pleasure.

You hear the soft smack of Chrissy's lips as she separates from Eddie to moan loudly, back arching again against the bed. "Yeah, yeah, Steve, fuck me," she whines, drawing out the words, and Steve's hands shift suddenly— your eyes widen as you're jostled when he lifts Chrissy's hips, planting one knee against the bed, strong and proud as he fucks her even harder. 

Chrissy's eyes brighten with delight, lips curving with an eager smile. "Ooh, Steve," she squeals, "That's it. Fuck my naughty cunt, stretch me open—"

Her airy feminine moans mix with the impact of Steve's hips and his groans, hoarse and deep. "Yeah, baby, oh, shit—" His even rhythm begins to falter in a tell-tale sign of his approaching orgasm, and Chrissy giggles, purring,

"Is my tight little pussy gonna make you cum, Steve?"

You can see the desperation in Steve's face as his lips fall open, moaning, panting, cheeks flushed as he groans, "Yeah, yeah, fuck—" 

And then he's pulling out, wrapping one arm under the small of Chrissy's back to support her as his other hand grips his length, tugging quickly. You watch his pink head disappear into his fist once, twice— and then he grunts, hips canting, groans stifled in his throat as his cum paints Chrissy's porcelain stomach. It spurts in lines as he strokes himself evenly before slowing, squeezing tight near his head, and you watch it drip from his slit into thick drops above Chrissy's fuchsia thong. 

And the sight of Steve's cum on Chrissy's abdomen makes your stomach flutter with excitement— because it's hot and erotic, but also because it means that it's your turn with Eddie next.

Chrissy's arm tightens around your back, hugging you closer as Steve lowers her back down. She tugs you and Eddie close as she says, sweet and bright, "Mmm, that was fun!" 

The delight in her soft voice, coupled with the flutters in your stomach, make you feel affectionate. You smile, nose nuzzling against her collarbone, arm wrapping just underneath her breasts to hug her back, careful to avoid the mess of Steve's spend on her skin. 

"I'll get you a towel," Eddie offers, and the sudden sound of his smoky voice has your heart thumping as you feel the mattress shift when he gets up. 

Another hand squeezes your arm, and you twist away from Chrissy to look into Steve's face, flushed and radiant as he beams at you. You smile automatically back as he reaches for you, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pressing kisses to your cheek. Steve seems happy, making you happy as you draw away, smoothing back his bangs as the mattress dips again— likely from Eddie returning with a towel for Chrissy. You chuckle as Steve’s bangs flop back into the same position, nearly covering his eye.

Steve's smile softens as he gazes into your eyes before kissing you tenderly. "Did you like watching me?" he asks, a quiet murmur close to your lips.

"Yeah," you say softly, fond as his eyes brighten at your answer. "You looked hot," you add, and when he beams at you again, you press one last kiss to his cheek. And then, you feel a soft touch against your hip. 

You turn your head quickly but keep your arms around Steve's neck, heart leaping until you register the pink-painted nails and delicate fingers. Your eyes find Chrissy's baby blues, her bow lips flushed and pulled into an encouraging smile. "Your turn," she says, and you feel Steve kiss your temple as you realize that her abdomen is clean, she's shifting over on the bed, and Eddie's standing at the foot, watching you silently.

Ink on quartz, black on white.

Steve gently removes your arms from around his neck. "Lie down, baby," he says, one hand applying gentle pressure to your shoulder.

But when your eyes dart from black and white to the soft indent of the duvet in the center of the bed, you frown. That feeling of unnaturalness hits you again; the prescriptiveness of just laying flat, waiting with Steve and Chrissy by your side for Eddie to fuck you. 

You don't want this to feel like some transaction. You don't want to just lie down. 

"Wait," you say softly, pulling from Steve's light grip and shuffling over until you're kneeling in front of Eddie. He watches you as you approach, hands hanging by his sides. And his cock is sticking from that thatch of dark hair, but you don't reach out for that. Instead, you cup his neck, drawing closer until you feel the press of his hot head against your belly, the rasp of his hands on your hips as they settle there. Eddie's brown eyes are deep as you gaze into them for a moment before tipping your chin and pressing your lips to his.

You can feel his warm breath tickle against your upper lip as he sighs slowly, leaning into your kiss. Eddie's lips are plush and soft as you move your mouth against them, coaxing him until his hands shift, smoothing over your skin until they meet at the small of your back, holding you closer. You drag your fingers up as he deepens your kiss, burying both your hands in the curls at the nape of his neck, belly fluttering, pussy pulsing as you feel his length twitch where it's pressed between your stomachs.

"They shouldn't have all the fun," you hear Chrissy say behind you. And then she giggles, lips smacking as she kisses Steve. You press a little tighter to Eddie, relishing the feeling of his warm chest against yours, the rasp of his thumbs as he rubs them softly against your back, the heady, tantalizing scent of him in your nose— smoke, apples, and musk, that scent that's growing ever more familiar, ever more comforting every time you inhale it. It swirls down, filling you inside, transforming into plumes of rich, heady feeling as you open your mouth for him, leaning into the soft brush of his tongue against yours. 

And once this moment no longer feels unnatural or transactional, you pull back to gaze into warm brown eyes. Eddie smooths your hair back, and you sigh, leaning into his touch as he murmurs, "Are you ready?" 

Your answer is immediate. "Yes," you whisper, and Eddie smiles softly as he kisses you one last time— so light, so delicate that it nearly makes your eyes sting. 

And then you lay down.

Steve's arm is underneath your head, your hair fanned across his bicep as his other arm rests just beneath your breasts. Chrissy's head finds your shoulder opposite Steve, and your arm curves almost automatically around her as she lays out on her side, arm resting in the curve of her waist, hip cocked, limbs long and willowy against the duvet. "Put your legs up," Steve tells you, and you rest your calves against Eddie's shoulders as he shifts closer. 

You feel a little exposed like this; your brow creases, vulnerable eyes peering at your painted toes— white nails even paler against the backdrop of Eddie's dark curls, which tickle the bottoms of your feet as he cocks his head. 

"Your feet better not smell," Eddie says, and your eyes flit instantly to his face, to those warm eyes dancing with his tease.

Scoffing, you retort, "They don't!"

Eddie snatches your foot suddenly, pressing his nose to your toes. You tense and squeal as he snuffles against your skin, trying not to squirm and kick him— but almost instantly, he releases you, hand returning to its place on your thigh. "Nah, you're good," he says teasingly, and his playful smirk spreads when you giggle. 

Steve presses his naked body tighter against your side; Chrissy's waves brush your skin as she turns her head slightly, staring between your legs. And when you see the playful smirk slide from Eddie's face, as you feel him shift a little closer, your own mirth fades as your gaze darts to Eddie's cock— somewhat shorter than Steve's but thicker, head blushed dark pink, bobbing just above the red embroidery of your crotchless panties. 

Your heart begins to thump hard in anticipation, sparks smoldering low as you watch Eddie's hand wrap around the base of his cock, guiding it toward your heat. Your hips shift as you feel his tip brush lightly against your slick flesh; you bite your lip as you inhale slowly, a little shakily. And when Eddie pauses, you meet his dark eyes, and you nod, hair brushing Steve's arm underneath you.

Steve's hand suddenly is at your cheek, turning your head to capture your lips in a deep kiss. Your eyes slip closed as you feel Eddie nudge against your entrance, hot and silky and unyielding as he presses closer and closer and closer—

And then you whimper into Steve's mouth as Eddie's head pops inside you.

The first stretch is always the most delicious with Steve, and it is delicious with Eddie, too. But though you already know he's thicker than Steve, you hadn't realized just how much thicker until he's stretching you open, inner walls burning as he eases in. It's a tight fit, and you suck in a sharp breath as he presses forward evenly. Eddie's not moving particularly fast, but it's still a little too intense, a little painful, so you pull from Steve's lips, brow crinkled as you glance up at Eddie to ask waveringly, "C-Can you… go slower?"

Eddie stops moving immediately, fingers tightening on your thighs. "Of course," he says quickly. And you make a tiny sound in your throat as he soothes his hands up your legs, rough skin rasping up your soft shins and down again to your thighs. It gives you something to focus on as you adjust to him, and you sigh, eyes slipping closed as Steve presses kisses to your cheek. Steve's lips and Eddie's hands relax you, and before long, the burn fades to a pinch. And when the pinch fades, too, you open your eyes, shifting your hips to encourage Eddie to move. 

You watch him as he presses forward again, eyes dragging over his features in a soft caress— the wild tangle of his curls, the softness of his nose, his full pink lips, the strong column of his pale throat, the ink of his dark armor as it cascades over his shoulders and chest and down his arms. And as you swallow him up with your wet warmth— as Eddie pushes further and further into you until his hips are snug tight to your skin, and his dark hair is pressed to the red lace of your panties— you feel that flickering flame burn hotter until you finally ignite.

You moan quietly as Eddie pulls out and then again as he presses back in, setting a gentle pace. And the drag of his thick cock inside you makes your breath quicken, your desire licking up your belly as Eddie starts to fuck you slow and even. 

Steve's voice is right in your ear, but he isn't speaking to you. "Does her pussy feel good?" he rasps, and the puff of his warm breath against your skin, coupled with the feeling of Eddie's cock inside you, makes your hips squirm. 

Eddie's fingers tighten on your thighs as he feels you move. "Y-yeah," he replies, and your breath catches as you hear his voice— it's rough but higher than usual, a little shaky, and the idea that being inside you affects him like that makes your desire coil tighter in your belly. Steve hums, sounding pleased as his lips trail over your jaw, dragging down until he's sucking at your throat. His hand finds your breast, kneading it lightly; on your other side, you feel Chrissy shift as she lays on her back, twisting her hips attractively, lifting one hand to play with your hair as you sway slightly with Eddie's gentle thrusts.

Suddenly, you no longer need gentleness. 

You build your courage up until you can say softly, "You can go faster now. If you want," you add shyly. Instantly, Eddie speeds up, and you moan as each impact of his hips begins to jostle you in Steve's grip. It's exactly what you'd wanted— Eddie's pressing in deep now, the steady, quick drag of his cock stoking your fire, pale hips smacking against your thighs. 

It feels good. It feels really, really fucking good.

"Mmm, I love watching you," Chrissy purrs, voice a sultry hum, and you glance to see her staring intently up at Eddie. "You're so fucking hot, babe." 

Your eyes dart to Eddie, too, and you watch as he chuckles breathlessly, jaw tense, nostrils flaring as he glances at Chrissy. Steve pulls your face to him, tongue snaking between your lips, and though you kiss him back, your eyes dart to Eddie again. And when that inky stare flicks to you, seeing you watch him as you kiss your boyfriend, Eddie groans quietly, a low rumble in his throat. 

Your hips twitch at his sound, excitement increasing at his reaction; as you shift, Eddie jolts against a spot inside that sparks deep in your belly. The sensation makes you gasp— your lips open wide against Steve's mouth, muffled against his lips as you whimper. You hear Eddie grunt, throaty and deep, as his fingers tighten on your legs. Your desire twists hotter, tighter as you elicit his reaction, at the knowledge that your sounds, your gaze, and your body give Eddie pleasure. That knowledge sinks inside you, sticky and thick, moving syrupy through your veins until you're burning with satisfaction.

Your gaze returns to your boyfriend as Steve pulls his lips from you. He strokes back your hair, cups your cheek, pupils swallowing hazel as he rasps, "That's it, honey, make him feel so fucking good."

And it's exactly what you'd just been thinking. But to hear Steve voice it….

He kisses you deeply again, and you let him, but that swirl of emotion begins to cloud within you as you ponder his words. Steve hadn't asked, 'Does his cock feel good inside you?'. And he hadn't said, "I want him to make you feel so fucking good.' And even his fingers kneading your breast or the sensual warmth of his tongue as it brushes yours can't distract you from that sudden realization.

You pull your mouth from his, head tilting as you sigh, hoping the curve of your neck will invite Steve's lips. And it does— he seems not to notice, mouth dipping to suckle at your throat as your body rocks with Eddie's thrusts and Chrissy trails her fingers up your side. And it's so much sensation— so many bodies around you, so many hands on your skin that you can't focus on any one thing, pulled along by the current of lust and desire surrounding you.

But then Eddie's nose brushes softly against your ankle, and you meet his eyes again. He nuzzles there, and his lips are plush, nearly ticklish, as his mouth ghosts your skin. You can feel his breath as he asks you a quiet series of questions, voice stuttering slightly with the rhythm of his hips: "Is it good? You want it faster? Slower?"

Eddie is standing at the foot of the bed. He's towering over you as you lay spread out on the duvet below him, feet to either side of his head. Physically, he's about as far away as he could possibly be while having sex with you.

And yet he's never felt closer.

That amorphous swirl of emotion transforms, blooming with heat and pleasure and flutters and more as you stare into Eddie's face. "No," you reply, "it's— it's good like this." Your voice is almost a whimper as you add, "I-It feels really good, Eddie—" 

You hear his breath catch sharply in his chest. And as you watch his face twitch, dark eyes wide as he stares down at you, you wonder at this reaction, at what may have elicited it. As Eddie fucks you a little harder, brow now contorting in pleasure, face beginning to flush, you realize: 

It's the first time you've said his name while you've been intimate. 

It may even be the first time you've said his name to him at all.

The knowledge that Eddie's name on your lips made him react— made him feel— ignites within you, and you're suddenly desperate for what you'd imagined that first time you’d been with him: how he'd sound and what he'd look like when he cums while you're having sex. And you've seen him cum before, but this… this is different. 

And you want it. You want it so bad that the burn in your belly turns to an ache that only increases as you moan, and Eddie moans, and your hips shift into him, and his fingers tighten on your thighs, holding you closer as he pounds you deeply. Steve is sucking on your neck, and Chrissy is humming eagerly as Eddie's rhythm starts to stutter, but they don't matter now. All that matters is the feeling of Eddie's length as it twitches inside you, the heat of his eyes as they bore into yours. His plush lips fall open, and that pink starts to spread on his black and white—

Clambering, shifting— the mattress dips, and suddenly the back of Chrissy's strawberry-blonde waves are all you see as she straddles your waist. She's sitting low on your stomach as Eddie thrusts into you, and the pressure sharply increases your pleasure. But you're bewildered, disoriented at the sudden change, eyes darting over her sharp shoulder blades as she asks, "Are you close, baby? Are you gonna cum?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, tight and high, and your breath catches as you feel him twitch inside you again. 

"Cum on me." Chrissy's sweet voice is whiny with need. "Please, Eddie, I want it."

"Okay, sweetheart," you hear Eddie say. And then that delicious stretch inside you is suddenly gone.

Abruptly, Eddie pulls out of you, and your hips jerk, pussy pulsing reflexively around nothing at the sudden absence of him. From behind, you can see Chrissy's arm moving as you stare at her back. Your brow crumples as you hear Eddie— that smoky voice moaning out his release as Chrissy hums with satisfaction. 

But you can't see him. You can't see anything but Chrissy.

In the aftermath of Eddie's release, everything calms, settling like a wave receding back into the ocean. The burn in your belly eases, the ache inside you fades, and the desperate want sinks into a quiet sense of emptiness as Chrissy kneels up, her weight no longer resting on you as she kisses her boyfriend. As Steve pets back your hair, you turn your face to him, looking into his hazel eyes— warm, comforting, familiar. He cradles your cheek, and you lean into his touch, relishing the softness of his hand against your skin as he kisses you tenderly. "That was so sexy, honey," he murmurs, sighing contentedly. "Fuck, I love you." 

You smile as his praise trickles into that small space inside, beginning to fill it. "Love you too," you reply, wrapping your arms around his torso. You ignore the soreness in your lower half as you shift your legs out from under Chrissy, draping one over Steve's hip in a full-bodied embrace. 

And as Steve envelops you with citrus and strength, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, hoping his scent will chase the lingering emptiness away.

-

Once everyone has cleaned up and returned to the bed to cuddle, you're wedged between Steve and Chrissy, warm and languid. Your body is soft with the afterglow of spent pleasure as Steve tucks his nose against the nape of your neck, arms wrapped around you from behind. You're warm and languid, but you aren't relaxed— you can't stop thinking about that tiny formerly-empty place inside, prodding at it with morbid fascination, trying to figure out the source of your unease.

Because it's filled now, but not with Steve's crisp scent, or his strong arms, or his praise, but with a vague sour tang that clings bitterly to your gums as you watch Chrissy lay half-across Eddie's chest, fingers playing in his dark hair. 

The feeling isn't overwhelming; it's small, barely there, really. You prod at it again, and it clings viscous and rancid to your fingertip. You know what it is because you've felt it before— typically when you happen upon pictures of gorgeous women with perky breasts and tight stomachs and trim thighs.

It's jealousy. You feel jealous.

You sigh slowly through your nose as your gaze runs over Chrissy's baby blue eyes, her pink bow lips, the softness of her strawberry-blonde hair as it cascades over Eddie's skin. Though you have felt insecure when comparing yourself to Chrissy, it's never been directed at her— just internally at yourself. She's never made you feel sour before. 

You decide it must be because your boyfriend has now had sex with her. You're resentful since she'd been able to talk dirty to him like he wants, since she can fulfill that desire for him when you clearly can't.

Yes, that must be it. 

You assess the weight of your feelings, measuring it against the memory of your girls' trip to the mall, your enjoyment of Chrissy’s company, and how her eager kindness and encouragement make you feel. And you consider the fun you've had with her— the fun you've had with Eddie and Steve, too. You'd grown to really appreciate the time you all spend together: singing karaoke, going on double dates, or even just hanging around your apartment. Steve seems happy with your arrangement, and so are you. You're enjoying yourself immensely, and if you're honest, you aren't ready to give that up just because you've gotten a little jealous.

I'm a big girl, you think. I can handle my feelings. It's not a big deal.

So you reach out, drawing your hand down the back of Chrissy's head, fingers stroking silky blonde waves as she glances at you. Eyes brighten; smiles are exchanged. And when she shifts toward you, thin arms wrapping around your neck as she tugs you closer and you giggle, the sour tang begins to fade. 

-

Late at night, once Steve's snores fill the dark quiet of the bedroom, you pull out your phone. The blue light illuminates your face as you swipe it open, navigating to the Spotify app. 

It's your turn to send a song this time.

You do this often. Every few days or so, your fingers will search blindly for your phone on your bedside table, bleary eyes peering at the screen once Steve's form is motionless beside you. And if there's a message on your lock screen, you'll carefully tug open your drawer, pull out your headphones, and listen to the song Eddie has shared. And if it's your turn to share, you'll pull up Spotify, searching for a track you're in the mood to share that night.

You know already which song you want to send Eddie tonight: Touch Tank by Quinnie. You discovered it about a week ago and have been listening to it often. It's sweet, floaty, and upbeat, and you like her voice because there's something soft and unpolished about it. You think she's an indie artist— it sounds like maybe she'd produced the sound herself. But the lyrics….

You'd smiled the first time you listened to them, perking as she sang, 'question your tattoos,' because you'd immediately thought of Eddie. But when you'd gotten to the chorus, you'd flushed and giggled, pressing cool palms to your heated cheeks, trying to ignore the curious glances from the other passengers on the subway. You couldn't help but think of Eddie again: his wild curls, bright brown eyes, and manic grin. That word had already floated up when you looked at him— pretty— so when Quinnie sang, 'He's so pretty when he goes down on me,' well… you couldn't help yourself.

You'd been debating whether to send it to Eddie, wondering whether he'd think the song was weird or awkward. But tonight, there's something different about you. Something new has emerged at the bottom of you, and though you don't consciously know it, it emboldens you. It guides your fingers to copy the link; it sprouts against the letters as you tap out your message. 'There's a line in this song that reminds me of you,' you write. And then, before those familiar nerves can freeze you, you send it.

You stare at the message, chewing on your thumbnail as you're struck suddenly with doubt. There are any number of lines Eddie could think you're talking about— the 'tattoo' line or the 'pretty' line, which you'd been intending. But what if he thinks I'd been thinking of the bridge? 'You took my breath away, so now I can't suck in my stomach around you anymore… Do you wanna wake up to me every morning…?'  

That's a little more… vulnerable than you'd been intending. And you hadn't even meant that part of the song. Why would you tell Eddie you want to wake up with him when you're waking up next to Steve? This was a mistake.  

Eddie hasn't seen it yet, so maybe you can—

Your chest pangs immediately with panic as the blue checkmark appears. You suppress a dismayed whimper. Why'd I waste so much time deliberating?!

You know there's no way you'll be able to go back to sleep now that you're waiting for Eddie to give his feedback on the song. When the bubble appears to show he's typing, your heart leaps into your throat. You scrunch your eyes closed, fingers nearly quivering around your phone as you wait. And then, when it buzzes once in your grip, you crack one eyelid, face contorted in a wince as you peek tentatively at the screen.

It's a short message; they typically are. But where Eddie normally would explain his score, tonight, there is no explanation. There is simply a row of six skulls out of five.

You blink, both eyes opening as you examine the screen. Six skulls out of five. That's… obviously good, right? You purse your lips, attempting to interpret why he'd chosen a skull emoji. 'I'm sorry,' you type, 'did I kill you with that one?'

There's the briefest pause after you send it, and his reply appears shortly afterward. You can almost hear Eddie's smoky voice murmuring in your ear as you read it: 'Nearly, sweet girl. A mortal wound. But, worry not: I will recover.'

'Good,' you reply, following it with two smiley faces. 

And the smile that grows on your own face is verdant. Your cheeks are supple and pink. Your skin glows.

You're just beginning to flourish.

[steddieunderdogfics]

The Parting Glass by Penny00Dreadful

@penny00dreadful

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

10,710 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archives Warnings Apply

Tags: Minor Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Character Death, Death of a loved one, Parent Death, Wakes & Funerals, the author is clearly using this to work through something, So Sorry about that, it’s sad Eddie hours, Christmas, Grief/Mourning, Grieving Eddie Munson, Singer Steve Harrington, Writer Eddie Munson, Pre-Relationship, one of the most self indulgent things I've ever written, it’s about to get very Irish, Drinking Songs, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, Sad Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Queer Eddie Munson, Friendship, Hopeful Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary:

It was nearly Christmas and Eddie was driving back to Hawkins for the second time in two weeks. He was alone. Again. And for good this time. OR Eddie moves back to Hawkins in the throes of mourning and after a breakup, just trying to deal with the aftermath of the death of his beloved uncle. And at Christmas too, no less. Luckily for him, there are some people there to help him through it.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @penny00dreadful . Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

The Pretty Ugly

by writersagainstwritersblock

Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington/Other(s) Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Argyle (Stranger Things), Chrissy Cunningham, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Dustin Henderson, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, Mike Wheeler, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers Additional Tags: Hurt Steve Harrington, Protective Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Whump, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Needs Love, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs Therapy, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, (rape/non-con elements are mostly off screen), Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Steve Harrington Has PTSD, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Rockstar!Eddie Munson, Prostitute!Steve Harrington, Minor Character Death, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Eventual Happy Ending Words: 182,356 Chapters: 44/44

Summary

Rockstar Eddie Munson needs a fake boyfriend after a scandal; enter high end escort Steve Harrington. Unfortunately Eddie's heart didn't get the memo on the 'fake' part of the deal, while the more time he spends with Steve the deeper he falls, the closer he gets to something that looks a whole lot darker than a college student just trying to pay off his student loans. “For you, your highness.” Eddie bent at the waist as he offered the cheap stuffed animal. Steve’s eyes went wide, but he accepted the little stuffed animal, holding it up for inspection. Some of the stitches were visible and his eyes were lopsided, but it didn’t change the way Eddie’s heart stuttered as Steve very gently touched its nose against his own, holding it like it were an actual small creature and not cotton and thread. “What’s his name?” “Bernard,” Steve said with such confidence that Eddie couldn’t help laughing. “What?” Steve said, looking mildly affronted. Eddie grinned. “No, it’s a great name, Bernard the Bat. Berry for short even.” Steve crossed his arms, but with the stuffed animal it looked more like he was hugging it to his chest. “Slushies?” Eddie said before he could do anything stupid.

[sourw0lfs]

WC: 3,557 | Chapters: 1/5 | Warnings: None | Rating: E

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Chrissy Cunningham, Gareth (Stranger Things), Jeff (Stranger Things), Unnamed Freak (Stranger Things), Heather Holloway (mentioned), Benny Hammond (mentioned)

Tags: Chef Steve Harrington, Rock Star Eddie Munson, Good Friend Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Whump, POV Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Needs a Hug, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Transmasculine Eddie Munson, Mutual Pining, Getting Back Together, Moving In Together, Steve Harrington is Bad at Feelings, Eddie Munson is Bad at Feelings, Hotel Sex, Breaking Up & Making Up, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Minor Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Gareth is a Little Shit (Stranger Things), Corroded Coffin is done with these idiots, Idiots in Love, Corroded Coffin Going On Tour, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Eddie Munson's Guitar Pick, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Top Eddie Munson, Bottom Steve Harrington

Summary:

Starting with a new client should have stopped being so nerve-wracking five years ago, but Steve can’t help the anxious butterflies fluttering around his stomach as he hits the end call button. It’s his first job since… well, everything, and he can’t help but be a little anxious. There’s something scary about just being him now instead of them. Even if they never really were them in the first place. Not when it came to work. OR: The one where Steve is a traveling personal chef working for Corroded Coffin

FIC by @sourw0lf

ART by @inflomora-art

BETA'd by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

Written for @strangerthingsreversebigbang