#eddie's got a small ass but steve loves it anyway

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Yes, Eddie would be obsessed with Steve’s butt. Can we talk about how Steve would be obsessed with Eddie's butt and how Eddie would be so flabbergasted.

"But how?? There's nothing there!" Eddie would exclaim before pinching his own ass. "See?! Nothing!"

"I love it! Can I take it to work with me?" Steve asked and Eddie would sigh as he rolled his eyes.

"Fine, but the rest of me is coming with you," he said.

"Even better."

[lesservillain]

baby daddy!eddie x mom!reader

cw: smut, non established relationship, best friend!eddie as well, idiots in love

wc: 3.8k

Closing the door as gently as he could, Eddie tip toed down the hall of the trailer and rounded into the kitchen to get himself a beer. He’d played hard enough with Autumn that she could barely keep her eyes open through her bath, but that also meant he wore himself out in the process. So after cracking open a can, he plops his ass down and turns on the TV, ready to chill until he passes out on the couch.

Well, that was the plan. Just as he got comfortable, there was a small knock on the trailer door. With a frustrated sigh, Eddie jumps back up, mumbling something about people coming to his house so late at night.

“Listen, I’ve told you all I don’t fucking deal anymore—Woah!”

Instead of some annoying kids looking for weed, Eddie was met with your sniffling nose and tear stained cheeks. He immediately went into best friend mode, wrapping you in a big hug and letting you get those emotions out.

After some crying and a soaked shoulder later, you finally peel yourself away from Eddie and attempted to talk, but only babbling came out.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Eddie says, thumbs rubbing the tops of your shoulders. “Just calm down and tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, doing your best to compose yourself.

“He-he-he g-got mar-married,” you hiccup out.

Eddie blinks at you. He knows exactly what you were talking about. Dustin told him back when that Harrington met a girl about 6 months ago and apparently they hit it off right away. The last thing he wanted to do was tell you about her considering your long time pining for him Especially considering he’s the reason Harrington would never ask you out. But you ended up finding out on your own, and devastated couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt.

It seemed soon in Eddie’s opinion, granted he would marry you tomorrow if you would say yes. When Dustin told him that he was going to be the best man that the wedding, Eddie had mixed feelings. He knew that it would kill you when you found out. That you’d react exactly as you were now.

Actually, you’re doing a little better than he anticipated.

“He came into the store and,” you blew your nose into the toilet paper he grabbed for you, “and I saw the ring on his finger when he was getting his money out of his wallet.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

“They haven’t even known each other that long! He’s such an idiot…”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that,” Eddie jokes, rolling his eyes.

“Oh god, what if--do you think it’s because she’s pregnant?”

Eddie’s pretty sure Dustin would have told him if that was the reason why, but it’s not an unreasonable guess.

“I don’t know, could be? Or maybe Steve Harrington is just an idiot like you said. And maybe they’ll be divorced by this time next year. Who knows, right?”

You sighed, leaning into Eddie and resting your head against him. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset. He was never going to ask me out anyway. No one wants a young single mom. Steve has his whole life to do what he wants, why would he be with someone who has so much baggage?”

“Hey, don’t say that about Audy,” Eddie scolds.

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” you correct, “I was talking about myself. I’d never be with someone who didn’t accept Autumn. Even Steve Harrington. I just…I’m damaged goods, Eddie.”

Eddie could feel himself getting upset but didn’t want to make things worse right now, so he took a few breathes to steady himself. He said your name sternly, pulling your full attention to him.

“I don’t like it when you say things like that. It makes me feel like it’s my fault--”

“Eddie,” you stop him before he can get another word out, “You know that you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve told you before that if I was going to get pregnant right out of high school with anyone that I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else but you.”

Eddie knows this, and he feels the same. But it’s not what he wants.

Even though it was all a total accident, he hoped that night the two of you spent together was going to be the next step for both of you. And even though he was scared after you told him with tears in your eyes then that he had gotten you pregnant, he wished with all his might that it would bring the two of you closer together.

Which it did in a way. Obviously the two of you would be bound together for the rest of your lives, but it wasn’t in the way he wanted. You still were head over heels for Steve, and there was no way Eddie could even compare to the king.

“Yeah…I know.” He says somberly. Your brows pinch, making him worried he should have said something else.

Then your expression changed. You looked at him intensely for a moment, before your eyes became lidded and…were you leaning in?

Eddie thought fast, making a quick decision to put his hand over your mouth, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes go wide as dinner plates, tears perching on your waterline as what hot embarrassment washes over you.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, suddenly regretting everything. This could have been his chance and he was an idiot.

You pull his hand from his mouth, sitting in silence for a moment before you begin to laugh. It catches Eddie off guard and he freezes.

“Eddie, I should be the one apologizing,” you say with giggles. “I’m the one who was stupid enough to try and kiss her best friend for a second time. We both know what happened the first time and the last thing we need is history to repeat itself.”

Eddie still felt conflicted. Your tone wasn’t sitting right with him, like there was some level of self depreciation in your words.

After a moment you stop laughing. Your face warps into worry as you stand from the couch.

“I-I need to go—“

“No, wait!” Eddie stands to grab your wrist before you could run away. He pulls you into him and hugs you tightly to him. You stand still before slowly wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt in your hands.

“Listen, I know you’re going through a lot emotionally right now, but…I’m here for whatever you need. Even if…” He trails off for a moment, knowing that he’s just going to hurt himself if he lets you use him. But he can’t turn you away when you need him. He’d rather you take advantage of his feelings than run off to someone else who would hook up with you without second thought.

“Even if it means crossing a boundary that we’ve already crossed before.”

Eddie feels you press into him harder, face buried in his chest. And when you look up at him, Eddie thinks he could melt into a puddle and let you mold him to however you’d like.

“I don’t think I should make any rash decisions right now,” you say with a sniffle. “I think I just need to clear my head. Let myself rot in my own misery instead of dumping it all on you.”

“Or,” Eddie says with a smile, “you could rot with me. I rented some movies and some beers in the fridge that have your name on them. I think we have some leftover pizza still, too.”

Your smile was so bright it was comparable to the sun rising. There was nothing in the world that could keep him down as long as you were happy. Eddie probably would have dropped out of school after his second failure if you hadn’t simply smiled at him and told him that he would graduate next year, for sure. He probably only did because you smiled at him every time he got a good grade.

The way you hugged him for a long time after a report card with no F’s on it kept Eddie’s head in the zone that last school year. And, well, the way your body felt under his when he finally graduated…

Eddie shook his head, wracking his brain for anything to keep his mind from thinking about that night right now. There’s no way him getting a boner while you were still holding on to him so tight would be good.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” you finally say after staring up at him for several beats. But Eddie caught the somber look in your eyes. It was going to take a lot of distracting to get you in a good head space.

“You know, I think we might still have some popcorn, too.”

After a few drinks, some weed, and a movie and a half later, Eddie finds himself waking up on his couch at some point after falling asleep. The bright, staticy screen causes him to squint his eyes, turning his head enough to bump his chin against the top of your head.

Eddie looks down at where you’re leaning into his side. He vaguely remembers wrapping an arm around you before the two of you had succumbed to sleep. It pains him to possibly wake you but the urge to pee is what startled him awake in the first place, so he does his best to untangle himself from you and sneaks to the bathroom.

On the way back to the couch, Eddie decided to stop in his room and grab a blanket for the two of you. But when he returns, he finds you sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hey,” you croak out, looking at him with squinted eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers back. “I brought us a blanket.”

You stretch before standing up from the couch. “I should probably head home, Eddie.”

“Sweetheart its,” he leans to check the time on the microwave, “3 in the morning.”

Your eyes go wide, hands running over your face. “It is? Fuuuuck.”

“Just stay,” Eddie says, walking over to you and wrapping you up in the blanket. You groan, feeling conflicted on if you should stay and sleep on Eddie’s couch or if you should brave the drive home.

“Hey, if you stay, you don’t have to drive all the way over here to get Fae in the morning.”

“Ugh, okay you got me,” you say, giving in. You sit back down on the couch and start to make yourself comfortable.

“Wait, you can sleep in my bed. Promise I don’t bite.”

That took less convincing as you pop back up, dragging the blankets behind you as you wobble to Eddie’s room. Eddie laughs as you plop into his bed, stealing one of his pillows to make yourself comfortable.

“Hey save some room for me,” he says, walking around to the other side to climb in. He lays next to you, adjusting in an obnoxious manner that has you giggling. You turn to face him and he does the same.

“I love you,” you say at the tail end of a giggle. It’s something said frequently between the two of you. Genuine as it’s spoken after years of friendship.

“Love you, too,” Eddie says with a sigh. Sleep soon takes you both over again. The only sounds that can be heard is the sound of the a/c doing its best to cool down the trailer.

Eddie felt himself waking once again, this time much more comfortably in his own bed. He yawned, shaking a bit as the feeling of waking overcame his body.

The sun peaking through the cracks of his curtains gave the room just enough light that he could see the room with a slight glow. Turning his head, he chanced to see if you were still laying with him. He had a dream that you’d left with Autumn and ran away with Steve that left a sick feeling in his stomach.

Much to his delight you were indeed still occupying the bed with him. Smiling wide as you looked at him, already awake where you lay.

“Mornin’,” he says in his morning voice, and your eyes flicker.

“Morning,” you squeak back. As Eddie turns to face you, your hand finds its way out from under the covers and reaches out towards him. Your fingers gently glide across his cheek, rubbing against the stubble as you push his hair out of his face.

The way you’re looking at him has Eddie’s tummy feeling funny, but in a different way from his dream. You’re looking at him the same way he looks at you.

Suddenly, you push yourself up on your arm, hand still on his cheek as you start to lean in once again. Eddie’s heart beats hard against his chest as you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

It lasts a few moments, and Eddie melts into it. It was a kiss like none he’s ever had before. Not even compared to the last time the two of you kissed before Autumn was born. This kiss felt like a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter morning, the warmth spreading to every part of his body as he drank you in.

When you pulled away, Eddie chased after you, not wanting it to end so soon unknowing if it would ever happen again. When you don’t kiss him again, his eyes finally open to meet yours. They’re bouncing everywhere, scanning his face as if looking for an answer written on his skin.

“Eddie…”

But Eddie doesn’t let you ponder much longer, hand snaking around your head to pull you into him once more. This time more feverishly, the heat palpable between the two of you.

You shift so that you can bury your hands in his hair, and Eddie takes advantage of this to move himself above you. Eddie kisses you into the pillow beneath you, long kisses turning into passionate smacking, poking the fire that was burning between you.

“Tell me to stop,” Eddie says as his lips begin to move down your cheek and to your neck. He says your name breathily, “Tell me now, because I won't be able to stop once this starts.”

“I-I can’t. I won’t,” you stutter, hands grabbing at his waist as he kisses and nips at your neck. Eddie breathes against you, body alight knowing that you wanted this as much as him.

“But,” you say, stopping him in his tracks. You give him a coy smile, nodding towards the door. “You better make it quick. You know she’ll wake up at any moment.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Don’t gotta tell me twice. Better get to work then.”

Eddie suddenly lifts the blanket above the both of you and disappears underneath it. Soft kisses leave a trail from your knees to the apex between them. Eddie slips his fingers in the hem of the sleep pants he let you borrow, pulling them down with your panties in one quick motion. There was barely any light to see, so he decided to just dive in tongue first.

He ate you out like a man starved. Your thighs try hard to wrap around him as he works you up on his tongue, but his strong arms hold you open for him. Eddie groans at the way your fingers grip his hair, tugging just enough to burn so good against his scalp.

Once he added fingers, you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself quiet. It was like Eddie knew exactly what you liked, because not long after you were coming undone, riding his face as you did.

Eddie crawls up your body, head resting between your breasts as he pokes out from under the covers.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you pant, looking at him in awe.

“And that’s not even the best part,” he teases, making you roll your eyes at him. You grab his face and bring him closer to you, tasting yourself on his lips as you kiss him again.

Eddie rolls his hips subconsciously, and you can feel how hard he is as he grinds against you. You want to say you also forgot how big he was, but it’s something you didn’t want to admit you thought about often.

Your hand travels between you, fingers trailing against his skin as you reach the hem of his boxers. Slipping under it, you feel your way to his hard cock, taking it in your hand to pump him. He whines against your lips, hips moving faster in your grip. You watch with awe struck eyes as his beautiful face contorts in pleasure above you.

“Please,” he pants out as he fucks your hand, “Wanna be inside you. Can I?”

You nod silently, unbelievably turned on by your best friend for the second time now.

He works fast pulling his boxers off quickly, a loud thwaping coming from his cock smacking against his stomach after getting caught on the waistband. Your eyes go wide as you take in his size.

After almost 2 years you’re still shocked at what Eddie Munson is packing. Those dumb ass cheerleaders that picked the bone head jocks over him have no idea what they missed out on.

Eddie settled himself between your legs, spitting on his own cock to get it good and wet before rubbing it in your soaked folds. You had a moment of clarity, realizing that Eddie wasn’t wearing a condom. You opened your mouth to speak, but your words got caught up in a moan as Eddie pushed his way inside of you.

The stretch took your breath away. Eddie seesawed his way into your tight cunt, opening you up on his cock until he was balls deep inside of you. He placed his hands on either hip and started moving, holding you tight as he worked up his pace.

Every thrust felt like too much and not enough at the same time. The constant knocking against your sweet spot had you seeing stars quickly, still worked up from him eating you out. The pretty sounds that Eddie was making wasn’t helping either, but you still had enough mind to shush him so that he wouldn’t wake your daughter.

Eddie’s pace quickens, and he makes the fatal mistake of adding his thumb to the mix. It only throttles you to the edge for a second time this morning. It’s not much longer before your vision goes white, toes curling as your orgasm takes over. It's probably the hardest you’ve cum in a long time.

“Oh, fuck.”

You barely registered Eddie’s words, but you definitely felt the reason behind his curses. Eddie was cumming deep inside you, balls emptying into your pussy as you were still riding out your own orgasm.

In the moment it felt amazing, but the post orgasm bliss left you crashing as you realized the very real situation you were both in.

Eddie felt himself being pushed by you, taking him out of his own high as he stumbled back on his ass. As you open your mouth to speak, Eddie is hit with a wave of deja vu with every word.

“Did you fucking cum in me?” The words came out in slow motion and Eddie’s body broke out in cold sweat.

“I-I’m sorry. I was going to pull out, I just—“

“What? You forgot? Are you kidding me Eddie? Do you not remember what happened the last time?”

Right on cue, your daughter's whines could be heard from across the hall. You sigh, kicking the covers completely away from you and grabbing the pajama pants you had back on.

“Listen, I really am sorry,” Eddie says, looking at you with big, sad eyes. You groan, unable to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that.

“What are we going to do then, Eddie?” You ask him, walking out of his bedroom to get your daughter.

Eddie sits on the bed for a moment and thinks. He knows that you getting pregnant again while Autumn’s only and a half isn't ideal. Not that you being pregnant is ideal anyway, but honestly Eddie wouldn’t be mad about it.

He was so head over heels for both you and Autumn that he doesn’t hate the idea of another person to love is the worst thing. But he’s also not the one doing all the hard work. And if it wasn’t obvious the first time that having a kid wouldn’t fix any problems, then having a second would probably not make much of a difference in your feelings towards him.

The door opens again and Eddie watches as you enter with a squealing toddler on your hip, clearly happy to see both mommy and daddy.

“Morning, sweet girl,” Eddie cooes, scooping his baby up and smothering her with kisses, sending Autumn into a fit of giggles.

“I went ahead and changed her. If you want to dress her I’ll make breakfast.”

Eddie gave you a quick salute as you went to the kitchen, leaving him and your mini me to get ready for the day. It took a lot of wrestling but he was able to get the little one dressed, including hair done, and looking presentable for the day.

Fixing her up in her highchair, Eddie sat at the small kitchen table and breathed a sigh of relief. You shook your head at his theatrics, setting breakfast down for the both of them.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Eddie said, spooning some applesauce into Autumn’s mouth. “After we eat, why don’t I follow you to the pharmacy and we can pick you up a Plan B?”

You quirk an eyebrow in amusement. “You have Plan B money this time?”

“Ha ha,” Eddie laughs dryly at your reference to the last time you had sex, the both of you freaking out over having no money. Thankfully Eddie was able to get a good job at Hawkins Auto Body when you got pregnant. He makes pretty good money now considering he was able to get his own trailer. Money is still tight, but he can manage.

“Fine, better eat up then, or else you’re gonna have two mouths to feed instead of one.”

Eddie looks at your daughter, spitting image of him, besides your nose, and smiles. Maybe now isn’t the right time, but…maybe one day.

[ultralightpoe]

Full House - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Wow. I think I went too far with these, lmao.

Word Count: 5,258

Warnings: Dad!Eddie. That's it.

Description: Stepdad!Eddie and his girls that gives nothing but Uncle Jesse Vibes.

Part ll HERE

(Thank you for the gif @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal )

Enjoy!

(Eddie is not the step dad, he is the dad that stepped up)

Eddie Munson was many things in life. 

Triple senior, Satanic Freak, Dungeon Master, High School Graduate, Vecna survivor, Waynes son, and now Mechanic shop owner. But his favorite title came by accident, a truly brilliant accident of course. 

Nancy and Steve had planned a vacation for themselves, the first vacation they had since the birth of their adorable son Edward…..okay they named their kid Vince but Eddie thought that name was ugly and had spent the past 5 years continuously mocking them over it. So, in everything Eddie, he had named him Edward Jr. this week. 

Anyways, Nancy and Steve were having a very lovely trip at Niagara Falls while the rest of the group watched little man. While Eddie was at work Joyce Byers took him, and when Eddie had gigs Dustin took him and they ‘studied’ together which meant Dustin used him as an excuse to play games rather than study for his senior year. 

It was all going splendidly, until Eddie got a call in the middle of his work shift telling him that he would have to go down to the school immediately since Edward Jr -Vincent, had gotten into a little bit of a fight. 

So Eddie booked it, still in his greased out mechanic suit, a bandana on his head and the biggest concern that Steve’s kid would be kicked out of his school while he was away. What had he done to the kids? Had he broken their noses? Made them bleed?

Here was the problem, Eddie forgot that he was talking about Steve Harrington's kid, so when he arrived at the school to see his nephew bleeding and whimpering he realized the mistake. Vinny had gotten beat up, not the other way. 

“What happened, bud? Who did this to you?” Eddie was gonna fuck a kid up, he was gonna scalp someones son. He was going to absolutely annihilate some random ass boy. 

His nephew whimpers, using the back of his hand to wipe away a fresh tear as Eddie takes a gentle hand to assess the damage. “L/n….” 

Eddie was gonna kill this L/n punk. “What’d he do? He been bullying you?”

“You must be Mr. Harrington.” A saccharine voice fills the air, drawing his attention up to an older woman with narrowed eyes. 

“No, I’m Vinny’s uncle actually. Eddie Munson.” He introduces himself, holding out a hand which the woman glares at, and he realizes then that he was still covered in grease. So he pulls his hand back, embarrassed and nervous. “Sorry about that, rushed from work-”

“Never mind that. Let’s go.” The teacher nods her head. “You too Vincent.”

Eddie, now partially annoyed by the use of his nephews full name in such a tone, grabs his hand into his own and follows the old bat into the office where two more three more figures sit. The sight before him makes him stop, blinking slowly as a heat crosses his skin. 

Was he blushing? Shit, he was. 

Sat in the chair is the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, with a small baby in her lap and a small girl softly crying sitting on the edge of the chair, hiding half her face in the womans shoulder. 

“Have a seat Mr. Minson.” The old bat snaps, moving around the desk to sit in the cushioned chair. 

“Munson.” Eddie corrects, sitting in the chair beside yours while trying to keep it cool. Vinny takes the arm of the chair, holding onto some of the fabric of Eddie’s jumpsuit tightly. The woman blatantly ignores him as she shuffles around some of the papers on her desk. So Eddie turns to you slowly, holding out his hand again. “Eddie Munson.”

“Y/n L/n.” You smile, taking his hand in your own. “I am so sorry about your son-”

“I prefer the parents not to talk until I explain.” Old bat snaps out making Eddie sit up straighter. “I brought you both in here because it seems that Motley has violently assaulted Vinn-”

“ASSAULTED?! They are 5!” You snap out as the girl, Motley, begins crying which leads the little baby in your lap to start crying as well. And right on cue Vinny himself starts crying. 

“Woah woah woah.” Eddie starts, pulling his nephew closer. “Bud, why don’t you explain what happened here?”

“She hit me!”

“He pushed me!”

“And then she bit me!”

“He pulled my hair!”

“Okay, ease it up.” You sigh, rubbing Motley’s back in soothing circles. “I am so sorry about your son, and I will totally get if you’re upset but they are 5 and I don’t really know about the assault word-”

“Miss. L/n.” Old bat interrupts but Eddie shakes his head. He will just handle this just as Nancy liked to parent. 

“What can make this better, huh Vinny? Like your dad always says, an apology?”

“Y-yeah….” Vinny whimpers which makes Eddie smile and imitate the whimper voice. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you can apologize, Motley?” You ask and Motley sticks out her tongue to Vinny.  Eddie tries to hold in his laugh at this, the little metal head was not backing down. “Motley.”

“Fine. I’m sorry Vincent.” She snaps out. “But the next time you pull my hair-”

“I think we got it.” Eddie laughs, picking his nephew up. “Let’s go get some ice cream and forget all about it.”

He smiles at the principal before tearing out of the room, keeping Vinny held above the ground as he rushes out of the school. He is rushing too fast to hear you calling behind him, until they make it out of the school. 

“Wait! Sir-” He turns, blushing wildly as he attempts a smile. You smile back, still holding the little baby in your arms and Motleys hand. “I am so sorry about all of that. Motley has been a bit…. Aggressive since her dad left. How about we all go get ice cream and it’ll be on me today?”

And then Eddie, as terrible as it is, gets excited. That meant your single, single and very pretty. So he smiles. “Sounds metal to me.”

The giggle that escaped Motley makes him happy. 

Soon enough Eddie found his entire world wrapped around his three ladies. You, the little 5 year old named Motley and the little baby Ziggy. (Both named after rock music. You don’t like it then name em something else.) 

His life did an entire tilt and he found himself going from the freak to being ‘Daddy Eddie’ as his girls liked to call him. 

- 

“Lemme get the straight.” Eddie starts, holding up one finger and leaning back as he takes in the scene before him, Motley covered head to toe in flour and smiling from ear to ear. “The bag of flour just happened to knock down from the shelf and fall on you?”

“Yup.” The girl nods, still smiling. 

“And you don’t know how the step stool got there?”

“It was there when I walked by.” She shrugs. 

“I see. And you didn’t know that we hid the cookies on that shelf?”

“You do?!” She feigns shock, bringing both hands up to slap her cheeks. “What a coincidently.”

“Yeahhhhh. What a coincidently.” He imitates, bringing his own hands up to slap his cheeks in shock, trying very hard not to laugh at this entire thing. From her covered in flour, or her grammar and especially not the innocent act. Do not laugh. Do not laugh.

  “Motley! What did you do?!” You cry, coming into the kitchen in the pajama shorts Eddie loved so much, to see your daughter covered in your flour. 

You had both been in bed…..snuggling….. When you heard the sound of bowls falling. 

“I am innocent!” Motley cries, waving her hands like she truly could not believe you would think it was her. 

“She’s innocent!” Eddie follows, doing the same as her. “Tell her you want a lawyer, Mot.”

“Motley, do not-”

“I want a lawn mower!” She snaps out before you could warn her away from it. The room falls silent for a second after her words slip out and both you and Eddie try to control yourselves, but before you know it you are cracking up. 

Tears springing from your eyes as you cackle, Eddie finds himself using one arm to lean against the wall as his other arm holds his ribs, pained to be laughing so hard. 

“What’s so funny?” Motley asks, a puff of flour blowing out as she giggles herself which just sends you and Eddie into yet another laughing fit.  “Mama! Daddy Eddie!” 

“What Mot?” You laugh, swiping the tears from your eyes. 

“You’re being mean!” “Aww, we’re sorry Motty.” Eddie coos, moving closer as you do as well. Before she knows it you are both launching to hug and kiss at her, covering both of you with flour as she giggles and screams to escape. 

Eddie steals her another cookie before you take her to the bathroom to shower her off, you both lay with her to read for bed before you lead him back to your room, taking a shower together before going to bed yourselves. 

- 

Eddie was completely at peace, laying on the couch after a long day at work, with Ziggy laying on his chest slobbering all over his shirt. Motley laid on his legs, her head shoved between his hip and the couch as she snored away. 

They were sick, and you were in the kitchen making some chicken soup. Eddie had been in charge of getting them showered and ready for dinner, the only problem was the steam from the shower had cleared their noses which meant about 10 minutes of getting them both to blow into a tissue. And by the time that was done all their energy was gone, so he led them to the couch to lay with them and try to ease their whimpers. 

They passed out soon after and he was trapped in a pile of heat from their fevers and their slobbering snores. But he was at ease right here, their warmth making him just as tired. One hand rubbing Ziggy’s back while making sure she didn’t roll off his chest while the other hand slowly rubbed Motley's scalp. 

Before he knew it he slowly began falling asleep himself, and by the time he woke up he felt your fingers rubbing his forehead very very softly, a small smile playing on your lips. 

“Do you want me to grab them?” You whisper, which makes him shake his head. 

“Let em sleep, they don’t feel good.” He whispers back, turning bleary eyes to Ziggy who was currently crawling her way up his chest, she whimpers and whines until she is able to put her mouth around his nose. The gums touch his skin as she sucks on his nose, and he laughs slowly. “Apparently she is teething too.”

“I’ll go grab her ice pack.” You laugh, moving to the kitchen to grab it as Motley wakes up. 

“Daddy…. I hurt.” She whines and he nods, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the couch to give her room to get up, she does and quickly crawls until her head is in his lap. 

“You want some soup? Huh pretty girl? Maybe we can listen to Elvis before bed.” He offers, watching a small smile break out on her face that she tries to hide. Eddie teases her by leaning to see it and laughing when she covers her mouth. Then he pulls out the big guns, taking up the Elvis voice as he stares at her. “Let’s go eat some soup sweetie pie.”

“Hunka hunka burning love!” She giggles, jumping up to dash to the kitchen, when she passes you she nearly knocks you over but you manage to lean out of the way just in time. 

“What’s the rush?”

“Promised her Elvis after dinner.” Elvis was the king of rock, which albeit wasn’t the rock that Eddie liked, but Motley had grown overly obsessed with him lately and he was cool with that. Anything his girl wanted. 

- 

Blurb song inspo hereeeee . 

The opening of King Creole began, Motley stood on yours and Eddie's bed wearing his sunglasses and his leather jacket. She held a ukulele he had found from a garage sale, and thought it was the perfect size for her to play guitar. 

Ziggy stood on the ground, using his nightstand to help herself stand as she swung her butt up and down to the music. 

Eddie stood by the bed, with his guitar in both hands as Elvis Presley's song blasted through the speaker, wearing his newer leather jacket and a random pair of shades he found on the dresser that he was sure belonged to you.  Motley giggles loudly as Eddie sings the lyrics, playing his guitar to it as Motley pretends to play guitar as well. 

You were at the store and Eddie was supposed to be practicing for his gig coming up, and when you left he had Ziggy set up in her little play crib before Motley came in with the leather jacket on. One thing led to another and they all were playing along. 

“There’s a man in New Orleans who plays rock n roll!” Eddie sings, leaning in at the same time Motley does so their noses press together and then leaning back as she does and shimmying their shoulders. 

They sing and scream, dancing along as you pull back into the driveway. When you come in to get his help to carry in the groceries you are surprised by the loud music, even more surprised by the Elvis playing with the Metal twist to it. 

“Eds?” You call from the door, watching both him and your daughter shimmy their butts to you as they sing before you lean and stop the music which makes them both twist quickly to find you. 

“MAMA!” Motley cries, excitement crossing her face as she whips his glasses off, dropping the ukelele on the bed and launching into your arms. “Daddy Eddie was teaching me guitar!”

“I see that.” You laugh, keeping a hold of her as you lean to kiss Eddie, laughing when you see him in a pair of overly feminine glasses. “Nice look baby.”

“I thought they were very metal.” He laughs, kissing your lips softly, holding your jaw before Motley groans out a ‘ewwwww’.

“Did you like the music?” You laugh, looking down at her. “Even Daddy’s guitar.”

“He made the song better!” She laughs before you set her down. 

“Go get ready. We are having Vinny and his parents over.” At your words she groans, rolling her eyes which makes Eddie laugh out and reach a ringed hand to pull one of her pigtails lightly. 

“What’s with the attitude, pretty girl? Your rock n’ roll career is already getting to you?” He laughs, leaning to kiss her cheek before sliding off his jacket, moving to pick Ziggy up and make his way down the hall as his baby girl giggles happily. 

“I hateeeee Vinny.” Motley groans, following behind and snatching the chain that hangs from his pants to slow him down. “Daddy Eddie, pweaseeee.”

“Ohhhh, not the puppy eyes!” He whines, looking up to the ceiling. 

“No!” You call, covering her eyes. “Not this time.”

- 

Eddie sat on the floor of the living room with his back to the couch, water dripping from his hair onto his exposed chest as Motley sat behind him taking a brush through his hair over and over. He wore a towel around his hips, keeping him covered waist down but all his tattoos exposed as rubbed lotion on them, allowing Motley to have fun playing makeover with his hair. 

You sat near him, your feet in his lap as you read through a book you have promised yourself you would finish for months now.. Ziggy played with her toy blocks near as well, babbling along to the movie that played on the tv. 

Nights like this were perfect, no hustle and bustle and he got to spend time with his favorite girls. 

He rubbed some lotion on the bat tattoos, not really paying attention to what was happening around him only to be interrupted by a sharp gasp falling from your lips. Instantly he is sitting up grunting a bit when the brush Motley was holding puls his hair. 

“What? What’s wrong?” “Ziggy is-” But he already sees her, wobbling as she tries to stand without using anything to help her, blabbering quickly. Excitement courses through him as he sits up, Motley giggling behind him. 

It takes her a moment but she stands, turning to you and Eddie with a tiny smile. “Come here. Come of Stardust.”

Eddie coos gently and Ziggy wobbles, moving to take a step before landing on her butt. 

“It’s okay. It’s okay baby. Try again.” You coo, reaching your arms out. Ziggy giggles and picks herself up again, and once again she tries to take a step. Then, still giggling, she walks. 

Clumsy and heavy, she takes step after step until she falls into Eddie’s arms while everyone coos around her. 

“Da-Ed-ay.” She giggles and Eddie’s heart stops. Oh my god. 

“Did she just….” He gasps out as you tear up beside him. 

“Mix your name and daddy as her first word. Indeed she did.” You laugh, moving forward to kiss his cheek as he pulls Ziggy in to kiss her face all over.  

“THAT’S MY GIRL!”

- 

Eddie was beginning to get a little pissed off, his body thrumming with it as he watches his girls very closely. He keeps a firm hold on the neck of his guitar to fight the urge to punch someone in the face. 

That someone was Gareth. 

His band hadn’t had much exposure to kids, he knew this. The closest any of them had been to a kid was Jeff’s sister and she was only 2 years younger than her brother. So when Eddie had introduced his girls to them they hadn’t really known what to do. But he assumed they would get used to it by now. 

But his friends hadn’t. In Fact they did nothing but complain when Eddie showed up to band rehearsal with Ziggy on his arm and Motley's hand held within his own. She twisted his rings around, smiling from ear to ear when they walked up to the boys. 

Motley had been worried and had taken far too long to pick an outfit since she wanted to look as cool as Daddy Eddie and his friends. She ended up choosing the Hellfire shirt Dustin had made for her 6th birthday and his older jacket, she even let him braid her hair. And when they walked up she gave them a well rehearsed devil look, even sticking her tongue out just like Eddie does whenever she is throwing a fit. 

The only problem was Gareth and Paul both groaned outwardly, Jeff was the only one that seemed to try and smile, shaking his hand in an awkward wave. Eddie, now irritated and tense simply explains “Y/n had to go and help Nancy with something, I offered to take the angels.”

“Of course you did.” Paul scoffs, turning to grab a beer from the fridge with Gareth and Jeff in tow. Eddie bends down so he was level with Motley, rubbing her arm. 

“Don’t take those geeks to heart, yeah? They’re just nervous. You scare them.” He smiles which makes her smile. 

“It’s okay Daddy Eddie. Papa never liked when I bothered him either. We’ll stay out of the way.” She shrugs, kissing his cheek and taking her chalk set to the sidewalk before he places Ziggy on the couch. 

The papa comment unnerved him and he was already defensive. He didn’t like that they were in a situation that they could remotely compare to their deadbeat dad. It made him sad. 

They start practicing, but soon enough Motley is running up and dancing around in the garage as they play. “PLAY TIFFANY!” 

“Whose that?” Jeff asks, covered in sweat. 

“Please tell me it’s not that teenager that sings ‘I think we’re-’” Just as Gareth starts groaning, Motley begins singing and dancing to it. 

‘Ithinkwe’realonenow. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around!”

“Stop stop stop!” Paul snaps. “This is band practice. You can’t just-”

“I think we should play it.” Jeff smiles. “You have the tape Eddie?”

Of course he had the tape, it was Motley's favorite song at the moment. So, with a deep sigh since he already knew he would get shit for it he pulls the tape from his pocket, holding it in the air between two fingers. 

Gareth sighs, snatching it from him and taking it to the stereo system. 

An hour later and many snide comments, Eddie was about to lose it.  Motley had, at some point, gotten a little upset and chose to sit on the couch with Ziggy who was beginning to get whiny and sad. She hadn’t napped all day and Eddie knew it was time to call it a day before he punched one of his friends. 

“I think I’m gonna get the little ones home.” He mumbles, grabbing the tape from the speaker and putting it in the case as he looks over to where his girls were. Ziggy had her pre-cry face on and Motley was half asleep in the cushions. Eddie shuddered at the thought of how many times Gareth had sex on that thing. 

“Next time don’t bring the rugrats and we can practice actual music.” Gareth scoffs and that tight string in Eddie finally snapped. He pushes closer to his friend, getting in his face as one hand snatches itself in his shirt tightly and in a threatening way, his other hand holding the tape up to his friend's face. 

“THIS IS MUSIC!” He screams, eyes wild before he shoves his friend back and takes a deep breath, turning to where his daughters sit. “Come on, pretty babies. Let’s go make dinner.”

He scoops Ziggy up, then Motley, casting one more glare to his friends before walking off. 

- 

“I cannot believe they would be such assholes. To MY nieces.” Steve scoffs, hands on his hips as he stands next to Eddie. Tonight was the school recital, so both of them were dressed up to attend. 

Steve had dressed himself in a button up with a nice sweater, making sure to match Nancy who was carrying their 3rd kid, the blue of the dress making her light up. Meanwhile Eddie chose a button up with his leather jacket, or well Motley had demanded he wear the leather jacket because it was a part of the look. 

 You, as per usual, looked truly stunning. He made sure to keep a hand on your hip or the small of your back to make sure everyone knew you were with him, that’s right. Eddie the freak munson had the hottest woman around and two of the prettiest and most talented daughters in the world. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Eddie sighs. “Talking to my girls like that?”

“They are just jackasses who can’t even play guitar.” Steve scoffs once more, looking past Eddie to check the door. “Ah, there they are. DUSTIN! ERICA!”

Dustin spots them, smiling as he holds Erica’s hand and shuffles closer to them. “Is Mike coming?”

“No. He has a date to make El jealous.” Nancy laughs. 

“Where is El tonight?”

“Going out with Max.” Nancy explains, and Eddie feels you tense under his hand. He casts you a quick look to make sure you’re okay, watching Ziggy lay her head on your chest as she plays with your necklace. 

“You good?” 

“Yup.” Your answer is clipped, and Ziggy lifts her head up to copy you with a ‘yupyup.’

“Where’s Lucas?” Steve asks Erica, leaning to kiss her forehead. 

“He had an away game. Asked us to film it.”

“Then asked me to stop dating his sister.” Dustin laughs which makes Steve and Eddie break out in their own fit of laughter. 

“Da-Ed-ay.” Ziggy giggles, reaching for him so he grabs her quickly, kissing her lips to make her happy. 

“I’m sorry? Did she just mix daddy and Eddie?” Steve gasps and Eddie shrugs. 

“I’m telling ya, my girls are geniuses.” He smiles, leading you into the auditorium so watch Motley's recital. 

He sits with Ziggy on his lap, holding your hand tightly in his own as Steve pulls out a camera and squats in the aisle to film everything. 

Motley and Vinny come up to do their dance, the audience laughing loudly when Motley steps on Vinnys foot after he tries to trip her. They both blush, Vinny takes a bow and Motley holds up a rock sign, which makes Eddie cheer loudly and stand up to yell for her. 

- 

Song Inspo for this blurb hereeeeee 

“Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take her.” Eddie sings, holding Ziggy on his shoulders easily as he dances with you. The Hawaiian shirt you picked out for him is light on his skin as the sun beats down on you both, the sweat from the day sticking to him. 

This was the fourth of July celebration, everyone in the group met at the beach to enjoy the day…… which meant Steve had shown up at 4 am to save the spot. Eddie had already applied sunscreen onto Motley and Ziggy twice, you had done it three times and you both were still scared that the girls would burn. 

You had gotten Ziggy the cutest toddler beach outfit, that included a purple swimsuit; hat; and sunglasses. And his baby girl looked absolutely rocking. 

Then Motley got her very own swimsuit, inspired by her favorite artist of the time Tiffany, and Eddie (who had been practicing braiding hair for weeks, your scalp was sore.) had put her hair into two pleats that she had proudly shown to her Aunt Robin who had spent the next 30 minutes complimenting her favorite niece. 

“Daddy Eddie! Come swim!” She yells out, running up to him. “Puh-lease!”

Now here was the problem, Eddie hated showing his abdomen in front of his friends. It was easy for Steve, who liked to say the scarring was Tom Cruise's amount of cool. Eddie however had never shown them how disgusting his scars were. 

“Daddy daddy daddy.” She calls, jumping up and down as Vinny dashes past to get to Dustin. “We’re gonna play chicken and I need my daddy.”

“Maybe Uncle Lucas can help you.” He mumbles, squatting down with Ziggy still on his shoulders, the toddler pulling at his hair sharply as she blubbers. 

“I don’t want Uncle Lucas. I want my daddy! Only you can help me!” She cries, grabbing his arms. His heart melts, and he tries to smile. 

“Okay pretty girl. Let me get Ziggy settled.” He sighs and she lights up, dashing to go tell Vinny as Eddie moves to hand you Ziggy. 

“I’m gonna help El set out the food. Be careful.” You mumble, leaning to kiss his lips before moving to the table as Ziggy waves over your shoulder. Eddie takes his shirt off, rubbing his abdomen in worry as he makes his way to the water where Motley now stood. 

“See?! My daddy has cool ass scars because he’s awesome and he’s gonna kick your slimy little ass.” Motley brags to Dustin, who stares at her with wide eyes that make Eddie laugh. 

“Language, pretty girl.”

“Sorry.” She blushes, turning back to Dustin. “My daddy has sick scars and he’s gonna beat your toothless ass.”

“Woah.”

And suddenly Eddie felt a little better about his scars, smiling from ear to ear as he lifted Motley up, dashing into the water to help her win a game of chicken.

- 

Thanksgiving was spent at yours and Eddies house, after hours in the kitchen and a quick fit from Motley you had fully prepped the table. 

Now everyone sat around it, trying not to laugh as Dustin tries to convince you to eat the mac n cheese he made, practically shoving the spoon in your mouth. 

“No! I eat that and I die!” You laugh, slapping the spoon away. 

“Who would take care of the kids?” Jonathan gasps in fake astonishment. “Me right?”

“You’d only get the kids if Lucas died.” You shrug which makes Lucas smile in triumph.

“I knew it-”

“And you only get my girls if Erica dies.” Eddie interrupts. “And that’s if Dustin is dead.”

A laugh tears from your throat as Dustin claps, but you’re quick to stop him. “And that’s if Steve is dead.”

“And if Steve has them then Nancy is dead.” Eddie laughs. 

“Who has to die for me to get them?!” Mike asks, face red and puffy. El laughs and Max rolls her eyes. 

“Let me guess, if Nancy has them then I am dead?” Max scoffs, and you go a bit tense. 

“Well in this entire hypothesis that means I am dead, so that’s a bit mean.” Eddie giggles. “Because if my girl is dead then they go to me.”

“No they wouldn’t.” Max laughs, which makes the table go a little quiet. “They’d go to their dad.”

“What?” Eddie asks as Motley giggles out a “PAPA!”

He turns to you, eyes wide. “That true?”

“Technically yes.” You mumble out, looking extremely guilty. “But only because-”

Eddie doesn’t want to hear anymore, he slams his silverware down and storms down the hall, slamming the door loudly. 

“Y/n, I’m so sorry-” Max starts, only to have you glare at her and move to grab Ziggy. 

- 

It had been a week since Eddie talked to you, he slept on the couch and only talked to the girls. The only communication he had with you was through the girls, and that was it. 

He made them pancakes, and took them to school and daycare. 

Right now he sat in Ziggys nursery as he tried to get her ready for the day, her only in a diaper as he sat in front of her. 

“Aw, come on. Gimme a smile, little baby.” He coos, wiggling his shoulders. “It’s such a cute dress and you know you want to wear it. Huh?”

“No, Da-Ed-ay.” She giggles. “Wuv yu.”

“Aww. I wuv yu too.” He laughs. “In fact I love you THIS MUCH!”

He opens his arms out wide which makes her giggle. “How much do you love me?”

“Dis Muck.” She giggles, opening her own arms wide. 

“Our arms are open, we gotta hug.” He laughs, pulling her in quickly which makes her scream and giggle, pushing him away as he kisses her stomach over and over. 

“PAPA IS HERE!” Motley screams from the living room which makes Eddie whip his head around to the door that had been closed. 

What? “MOMMY! MOMMY MOMMY! IT’S PAPA!” 

Eddie stands up quickly, Ziggy in his arms as he swings the door open, meeting your shocked face as you come up the stairs. 

“Did she say-?” He starts.

“I’m hoping not.” But as you are saying it there is a knock on the front door. So Eddie makes his way to the living room with Ziggy in his arms as you run to catch Motley before she answers the door. 

Choosing to do it yourself, Eddie watches with his heart in his stomach as the door swings open and he is met with-

No.Fucking. Way.

Part ll HERE

(Would y'all want a part 2? If you send in requests for blurbs or scenarios of Eddie and the girls I will 100% write them. Send em in.)

Taglist:: (let me know if you want to be removed)

@localemofreak @paradise-summertime @jenniquinn @eddiesxangel

[crappymixtape]

because of you • part two

PART I • PART III • PART VI • PART V • EPILOGUE // REQ -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+  | ( 3.3k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U • P A R T T W O 🎶 theatre, etta marcus

❝ IS IT EASIER WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO START AGAIN? WHEN YOU DON’T WANNA MAKE AMENDS? ❞

‘Stealing a Winnebago’ had been easier than you’d assumed, but the getaway execution went exactly like you thought it would. Absolute disorganized chaos and the way Steve peeled out of the trailer park dumped you into Robin’s lap for the first mile. Made you even more skeptical of whatever half-assed plan these people had frankensteined together and now? You found yourself browsing the clothing section of The War Zone.

What in the hell were they thinking coming here anyway? From Eddie’s retelling of what happened under Lover’s Lake it sounded like not one of them knew anything about hand-to-hand combat, let alone guns. Couldn’t even land a punch, but thought they could handle this? Walls of rifles on display, rounders full of bulletproof gear and cases upon cases of bullets and god, you wanted to leave.

“Hey,” Nancy’s voice pulled your attention away from the tactical vests you were staring at, her eyes wide and earnest as she looked over at you. “If I go over to the counter, you gonna be okay?”

“Oh, totally,” you lied. “Yeah, was gonna go look over here anyway,” and you thumbed over your shoulder at more vests.

“Okay, good.”

She gave you a small Nancy-Wheeler-smile and left you there alone in a sea of camouflage. In the middle of a store you’d never have set foot in before all this and making you second guess yourself. Second guess what was seemingly more and more a stupid decision to go along with all of this and you huffed a sigh in frustration.

“Should’ve stayed in the trailer,” you grumbled under your breath, fighting the urge to just walk out, but apparently you weren’t the only one wandering around all the puke green clothing.

“Huh, didn’t know you had good ideas.”

The sound of Steve’s voice made your hands ball into fists, nails pressing half moons into your palms.

“Do you ever have anything nice to say?” you sneered and he had the audacity to be so causal. Didn’t even look up from the tactical vests he was flipping through and tossed one into his cart.

“Not to you I don’t.”

Anger rose in your chest like a pot boiling over, so hot it made your cheeks burn as you glowered over at him.

“What’s your problem?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep,” and still he didn’t look at you. Picked a bomber jacket off the rack and piled it on top of his vest and it was the last straw.

Stalking over to his side of the rounder you got right up in his face, dug a finger into his chest and said, “Liar.”

His eyes flickered at your accusation, sardonic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth as he looked down at you and warned, “Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.” And he leaned into your finger. Waited for you to fold. Tsked at your attitude and the sound of it triggered a memory so strong you felt like you’d been sucker punched.

Your second ever interaction with Steve Harrington happened the week before summer break.

You heard it while you were walking back to school from grabbing lunch at the diner. A high, sharp whistle followed by car horn and then—

“Owwww, damn baby!”

And you recognized the voice right away.

Tommy Hagan. Leaning out the passenger window of Steve’s BMW. Wolf-whistling at you and being a dick and you tried to ignore them, but then they were pulling up next to you and slowing way down.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tommy purred at your back, your mouth twisting into a scowl at the sound of Eddie’s nickname on his tongue. “You need a rid–” he started to ask, but his question cut short when you turned around.

Mouth dropped open in shock for a split second as he realized who you were, Tommy quickly recovered and started to laugh. That obnoxious, hyena-like laugh that made you want to punch him and he smiled and whistled again.

“Shit, Stevie! Who knew the freak had an ass on her!”

“You kiss Carol with that mouth, Tommy?” you shot back, Steve stifling a snicker from the driver’s seat.

“Bet you could do for a kiss, baby,” Tommy tsked, pouted his lips at you and grinned, “Always so damn sour.”

“Yeah? Wanna find out why?” you threatened and it made Tommy grin even wider. Shark-like. Predatory.

“Park it, Stevie,” Tommy didn’t bother looking at his friend, eyes locked on you as he opened the passenger door and jumped out of the car while it was still moving. Walked right up and crowded over you, eyes narrowing as he leaned in, “And what if I do?”

Your stomach lurched, heart leaping into your throat as you stood your ground. You didn’t think he’d take the bait, but you also didn’t shy away. God, you wished Eddie was there. Tilting your chin up in defiance you glared him down.

“Tommy, c’mon man. Just leave it,” you heard Steve’s voice from over Tommy’s shoulder, tinged at the edges with desperation as he ran up on the two of you, but Tommy couldn’t have cared less.

“Well? What’re you gonna do about it, toots?” Tommy pushed again, toes of his shoes knocking against yours as he stepped even closer, towering over you and it hit you like a ton of bricks how in over your head you were.

“Tommy, just leave–”

“I didn’t ask you, Harrington!” Tommy snapped and you took the opportunity.

Grabbing a fistful of his shirt in your hands, you yanked Tommy down into you and drove your knee into his crotch as hard as you could.

“Oh, fuuuuck,” he choked out, folded in half and hands covering his junk as he dry heaved and you took a big step back.

“Coward,” you turned and hurled the word at Steve and watched it land heavy as his face shifted. Brows pinching together and mouth dropped open, but nothing came out as he struggled to say those two little words. I’m sorry. To tell you he wasn’t like his friend, but his silence betrayed him.

“You bitch,” Tommy grunted at you as he tried to straighten up, one hand still over his crotch.

“Don’t move! I’ll–I’ll get you expelled!” you threatened and it made him laugh. A mean, mirthless thing.

“No fuckin’ way. My mom’s on the school board, who’s gonna take your side?”

And you looked back at Steve for a split second, silently asking him to step in and do something, but he stood frozen in place. Still unable to go against his ‘best friend’ and what little belief you had left in him was shattered.

You were done with Steve Harrington.

Shaking your head, you fought back the tears burning at the corners of your eyes and ran up the path to the cafeteria doors. Disappeared behind them with a loud, metallic slam! and left Steve alone to drown in the deafening silence.

Don’t say things you can’t prove, Princess.

It was like no time had passed, like you were still there in that parking lot with Tommy towering over you and tsking at you just like Steve was doing now, but this time you didn't run away.

“Don’t call me that!” you shoved at his chest and he stumbled back a step.

“Don’t call me a liar!”

“All you do is lie, Harrington! Your entire life was built on lies,” you could see his pulse fluttering against his neck. Watched his jaw tick as he clenched down on the words he wanted so badly to throw at you, but you didn’t give him a chance. “Why are you even here? You don’t give a shit about Eddie. You don’t give a shit about anyone, you’re–”

“Enough!” you flinched as his shout drew the attention of a couple older guys looking at the hunting gear. “You don’t know anything about me, okay? Not a god damn thing,” and the second part was quieter, but they way he held your gaze after punctuated it heavy.

He turned away from you, hastily pushing his cart back toward the cashier counter and walked out the double doors, but you weren’t about to let him have the last word.

“Hey, I’m not done!” you shouted after him across the parking lot. Sharp and biting and it made him spin back around, arms flung out at his sides in exasperation.

“Oh, yeah? Fine. What else you got?”

“Well, for one, I’m not going to sit here while you lord around like King Steve. This isn’t high school. No one here gives a shit about any of that.”

He squeezed his eyes shut at his old nickname. Sucked in a breath and let it out slow to try and steady himself.

“I’m not like that anymore.”

“Seriously? Do you hear yourself? You’ve been a dick to me since I set foot in Max’s trailer! And honestly? I’m not surprised! You think I don’t remember all the shit you put me through, put us through in school?” you shot back and he opened his eyes to glare over at you.

“Like I said, Princess–”

“I said don’t call me that!”

“–you don’t have any idea what this is. What we’re up against. None. You’re in over your head.”

“Okay? And what, I’m supposed to sit here on my hands and say, ‘It’s fine! Steve Harrington and all his little friends will fix this’?? You’re out of your mind!”

“And you think you can?” he shot back and your heart rate thrummed heavy in your ears.

“You know, Eddie says he trusts you now, but hell if I will. No fucking way,” and as you turned and cut past him back to the Winnebago he had to jog to keep up.

“Hey! Eddie almost killed me! With a fucking beer bottle!”

You huffed a laugh and kept walking, shaking your head at the accusation and incredulous at the lengths he was going to prove his point.

“Why should I believe you?” you called over your shoulder, “You’re probably just gunning for a headline: Steve Harrington, Hero of Hawkins!”

“Headline?? I–are you kidding me? You think I’d do all this for a headline??”

And finally you stopped at the bottom step of the Winnebago and Steve seized his chance.

“You really think I’m that superficial?” he shot at your back, but you didn’t turn around. Didn’t even acknowledge him and he spent what little patience he had left. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

But you were already gone. Frozen in place with the world growing dark. Tree line ahead of you blurring. Unfocused and liquid like water and the ground swam under you as a voice echoed in your mind.

I see you.

The sound of Steve still talking behind you turned to fuzz, crackled like radio static and faded away into ear-splitting silence. Deafening and swallowing you whole and then you felt it. The ground falling out from underneath you and you were drowning in the dark and the voice that echoed in your mind pulled you even deeper.

Resisting will only make it worse.

❝ AND I NEVER HAD A TASTE FOR LIARS OR THE UNIQUELY UNINSPIRED ‘CAUSE I DON’T NEED TO BE DESIRED ❞

Steve glared daggers at your back. Anger hot and fuming and fueled by the fact that you had the nerve to ignore him and god, he wanted to prove you wrong.

“Are you trying to piss me off? Cos its work–” but the words died in his throat as he came around to face you. “Oh. Oh, shit,” with a quick glance over your shoulder he saw everyone else finally coming out of the store and he didn’t wait to call for help.

“Munson!! Eddie!” Steve yelled over your shoulder at your best friend before grabbing your shoulders in his hands and squeezed at them. Leaned down to try and meet your unfocused, far away gaze and when none of it worked he felt his chest grow tight.

Not again.

“Hey, hey! Look at me!" panic clawed its way up his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Stay with me! Munson–hurry up!”

Your eyes were glazed over, tears gathering at the corners as your whole body started to tremble. Breathing stuttered and caught in your throat. Lips parted and trying to pull air in, but it wasn’t enough and Steve felt his hand twitch. Wanted to press it to your cheek to try and ground you, reach you and bring you back, but then Eddie was finally at your side and shoving Steve out of the way.

“Sweetheart! Can you hear me? Shit, shit, shit. What happened?? Honey? Look at me!” Eddie cradled your face in his hands. Did what Steve couldn’t. Voice ratcheted up, his usual low timbre a high pitched thing driven by fear and hearing it doused any remaining anger that had settled into Steve’s chest and replaced it with something else.

With helplessness. Regret. Remorse.

With the slow realization that everything he’d just said to you wasn’t worth it. Remembered how Nancy had yelled at him, just like you, outside of the gym. You’re bullshit! And his throat squeezed with guilt for messing it all up again because he was bullshit. He was a liar and you were right. Had he learned nothing?

He looked at you, your face contorted with fear, and he felt something new flicker within him. A feeling blooming at the pit of his stomach. One he was so certain couldn’t possibly exist when it came to you, but as he stood there watching Eddie try to shake you back from the dark he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Steve, help me!” tears cut down Eddie’s cheeks as he called to him and pulled him hurtling back to Earth. Desperate. Pleading. Begging him to do something and it shook Steve back into action.

Heart pounding in his chest, adrenaline coursed through Steve's body and fought off the fear that had threatened to trap him in choke hold.

“Max, gimme your Walkman!” he shouted over your shoulder.

The rest of the group had started running back to the Winnebago as soon as they’d heard yelling and when Steve asked for the cassette player, Max knew time was running out.

“Shit,” she hissed under her breath and broke into a sprint, scrambling to untangle the headphones from around her neck as she hurried to get to you. “Here! It’s still Kate Bush, is that–”

“Doesn’t matter–Munson get these on, hurry!” Steve, snatched the Walkman from Max and crammed it into Eddie’s outstretched hands.

“Please, please, please,” fell from Eddie’s lips, desperate, praying that this would work as he fitted the headphones on and pressed them against your ears, “Please.”

Blinking heavy, you strained your eyes against the black. Against the suffocating dark you suddenly found yourself in. The stand of vivid, green ash trees lining the parking lot replaced by gnarled branches, dark and leafless. Bright yellow buttercups snuffed out by thick, wet vines that snaked their way across the ground under your feet.

You weren’t in the parking lot of the War Zone anymore, not really, and as you breathed in the sickly, ashen air your heart stopped in your chest.

The Upside Down.

“Eddie? Eddie!” you shouted into the dark, red lightening cracking the sky in two, and when no one answered you knew you were utterly alone.

Panic gripped you like a vice as you thought of Chrissy. Of Fred and Patrick and dread filled your stomach. Utter hopelessness and grief and when you whipped around to run you felt something tangle around your leg. Wrapping up, up, up and pulling you down, down, down.

You braced for it, ready to break your fall with your hands, but you never hit and instead found yourself lifting into the air. Unhinged laughter filling your ears as more vines snaked around your arms and legs and you swore you were going to be sick.

It was

Him.

“Why isn’t it working?? God dammit, work!” Eddie was yelling at the Walkman, his composure unravelling as Chrissy’s last moments flooded his mind. “Is she gonna die? She can’t die!” he pleaded and his voice cracked, a sob caught in his throat, “Please don’t let her die!”

“Hey hey, hey! Get a hold of yourself. That’s not gonna happen, okay? It’s gonna work,” Steve gripped Eddie’s shoulders, looked him in the eye and tried to reassure him, but when he glanced over at you he knew he couldn’t make that promise. “Please work,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Where are you going? You can’t leave. Not yet.

Vecna’s voice was everywhere. Flooding every part of you and you feared you would never feel joy again. Would never escape this. Would be stuck here forever screaming into the void, hanging on Vecna’s every whim.

I would like very much to show you where I’m going. Please, take a seat.

And the vines yanked you down, squeezed tight around your wrists and legs and held you fast against the ground, rocks digging painfully into your back.

“Please, let me go!” you pleaded into the dark. “Please, I–” but your mouth went dry as a shadowy figure appeared through the ash. Coming closer and closer in the dark with each heavy step and when it finally stopped, feet at your head, your blood ran cold.

Wet, sinewy skin. Muscles exposed and stretched taut. Eyes that pierced your mind and knew every single one your thoughts. Knew all the dark things spiraling there and made them worse. Clawed at you with spindly, protruding hands and long, dagger-like claws and suffocated you with the smell of something rotten.

Of decay.

Of death.

Reaching a hand down, Vecna held it over your face, inches away from touching you as you struggled against your restraints, but they constricted tighter with your every move.

“Please,” you were crying openly now, tears cutting paths through the ash that had settled on your cheeks, but he ignored you.

I want you to tell your friends, I want you to tell them everything you see. Everything I show you.

“No, please!”

Tell them!

“No, I can’t–”

Tell them everything!

And then your head felt like was being cleaved in two. White hot light fracturing the black sky into thick shards and your screams were the only thing you could hear as Vecna pried open your mind and poured into you his vision for the future...

Hawkins in ruin.

Four gashes in the earth. Cavernous. Hot and angry and full of fire.

Your family. Lying scattered across your lawn. Motionless and still and limbs bent wrong.

Tell them!

Your friends hanging in the air just like Chrissy, Fred, Patrick.

Eyes empty, slack-jawed and lifeless, bones snapped like twigs.

Tell them!

Eddie and Robin and Nancy and Steve and–

“NO!” you screamed, the sound pulled painfully from your lungs as you felt your legs give way and collapsed into yourself.

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

Steve scrambled to grab hold of your shoulder and barely caught you before your bare knees hit the pavement.

You heard birds chirping. Sunlight filtering through the backs of your eyelids as you kept them squeezed shut, but the air was clean. Smelled fresh and as you slowly opened your eyes you realized you weren’t choking on ash anymore.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Steve was still holding onto you, your hands pressed into his thighs as you braced yourself, the feeling of nausea overwhelming.

“I saw him,” you whispered, only Steve could hear you and you started to cry.

“Him?” Steve asked unnecessarily, glancing up at Eddie. Hoping, no praying, if he asked maybe you’d give a different answer. One that wouldn’t involve death and the end of the world and everything hinging on this stupid fucking plan, but he knew.

Everyone knew.

Eyes glued on their feet. Arms folded over their chests and uneasy with the weight that had settled over the group.

“Vecna.”

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART TWO OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[lexirosewrites]

Idea for slick sunday hit me out of nowhere like a brick. Which is to say it's barely developed lmao if I think about it any more i might pop back in.

So, Alpha/beta/omega dynamics exist in the world but it only applies to werewolves. Small populations of werewolves live amongst humans but are considered lower beings by the snobbiest of humans (guess who this applies to). People can still be turned but it's sort of a taboo and a great way to be ostracized by more close-minded human communities. So, amidst some altercation, fueled by anger, lust, whatever, Billy bites Steve and turns him. He becomes an omega werewolf, and immediately all his social standing, his opportunities, everything goes tits up. His parents only barely know what omegas are, which is to say omegas are the women (or bitches when theyre feeling especially uncharitable) and alphas are the men etc, just very incorrect assumptions on how werewolves work. Well they can't get Steve out of sight fast enough. It's either ship him away or disown him, and Steve refuses to leave the kids, so it's out the door and out the family.

So now Steve is a brand new werewolf and a brand new omega and has no idea how either of these things are supposed to work. Most of the wolves in town that he knows of hate him because he was raised to look down on them first, and even if he's changed, he was an ass in high school. He's got so many new instincts that clash with a lifetime of experience being human, and now there are physical changes and why is he so hot all of the sudden? Well he cant be around Robin or the kids-- what if he hurts them? After all he's a dangerous animal now right? So he roughs it in the forest for awhile.

He's going through it.

Anyway, some way some how Eddie gets wind of a newly turned, weird af wolf living in the woods and roaming the streets at night. Or maybe they have a chance encounter, and Eddie, being a protector of the bullied and downtrodden that he is, makes the decision to help even before realizing who it is. And catches feelings for his trouble.

this is about as far as ive gotten with this but here you go~

it's been forever since I've seen omegaverse mixed with wolf dynamics! the addition of steve having been raised to judge wolves and thus their community not accepting him either is just extra sweet angst🥰 I'd love to know what happens with eddie afterwards! does he try to be steve's alpha even though he's a human? does he get turned into a wolf too and then they're both loner weirdos together?

[usedtobecooler]

Please bestie do me a favour and write the fic where reader gets cucked by Steve please I’m on my knees begging I love your work

smutty stocking stuffers day two - steddie x reader

Pairing | Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), protected anal sex, cuckholding, coming untouched, dacryphilia, dirty talk, mean reader, mean steve, fluff, banter.

Word Count | 2.1k

A/N | for anybody who’s confused, this prompt is based on this post by the ever wonderful @boldlyvoid 🤍

“At this point I honestly think you want to fuck Steve,” You say it to Eddie as a passing comment, really. It doesn’t come out snarky, just factual. You'd seen the way they were together, the lingering glances, how they always had to be touching each other, it was bordering on more-than-friends territory, and you'd be a fool to pretend you'd never noticed it.

Eddie had been non stop, talking about everything he and Steve got up to on their ‘boys trip’ to the city since he got back a few short hours earlier. Eddie’s voice dies in his throat at your words, brows furrowing and a pout overcoming him.

“You want to fuck Steve,” Its a weak response, but it’s all Eddie’s got, and it makes you cackle. He’s flustered, cheeks hot, twiddling his rings in his fingers the way he always does when he’s nervous.

“Maybe I wanna watch Steve fuck you,” You say it as a half joke, so if Eddie freaks out you can back up and say you were only kidding and he’ll somewhat believe you, but you’re looking at Eddie and he’s looking at you, and he’s not shooting you down or running away in disgust.

“You wanna get cucked by Steve Harrington?” Eddie bristles, and you laugh at how stupid it sounds, now that he’s saying it out loud. But a warmth pools in your belly at the thought, a flush takes over your face.

“I dunno, maybe I do.” You challenge, expecting Eddie to back down, but he looks at you all defiantly, crowding into your space, hands engulfing your hips. It’s a weird game of chicken, you think, and Steve is the unwilling pawn.

“Maybe you should call him then.” Eddie’s breath fans in your face and it makes you shiver, the faint smell of cigarettes and minty gum intoxicating. He leans in to kiss you, and you meet him halfway, getting wrapped up in the searing heat of it as he kicks your legs apart, slots one of his own in the space in between, and lets you grind against him until you're gasping and crying his name.

“Look at her, she looks real pretty sat there watching us, huh?” Steve’s attention goes to you, where you’re sat in his chair at the side of the bed, watching them with hooded eyes.

The pretty lacy underwear you put on had been worn at Steve’s request — “It’s only fair I get to see you both looking sweet for me, right?” He’d cooly said it down the phone, and it had you twirling the cord in your fingers with a blush spread across your cheeks. Steve had a sharp tongue, he knew how to fluster you.

He’s talking nonchalantly as if he’s not two fingers deep in Eddie’s ass, spreading him open and getting your boyfriend ready to take his cock. Steve is big, but you knew that anyway, Hawkins was a small town and everybody talked, you’d heard your fair share about Steve Harrington’s penis.

Eddie’s losing composure pretty quickly, fringe matted to his forehead and small little whimpers escaping his lips, noises going right to your cunt. He was always submissive, even for you, but this was something entirely different — watching him being fucked open by Steve’s long fingers with his knees almost up at his chest.

“You think you can handle me nice now, hmm?” Steve grins down at Eddie, and you see him flex his wrist, crooking slightly until Eddie’s gasping for breath, fisting the sheets below him. His hard cock kicks up against his belly, slapping and leaving slick behind on his happy trail.

Eddie nods, throwing an arm over his eyes to shield them as Steve slips his wet fingers out, making hasty work of grabbing for the condom and lube next to him on the bed, tearing the foil with his teeth.

You watch through half lidded eyes in awe, Steve’s as hard as Eddie is and he’s not even been touched. He slides the condom down his length with ease, like he’d done it a hundred times before (and the rest, you bristle quietly). He pops the cap on the lube, slicking himself with it, exhaling a shuddery moan when he deftly wraps his own hand around his cock, the little bit of relief obviously feeling blissful.

“What do you say, babygirl? Think he’s ready for me?” Steve asks without even looking at you, shuffling forward between Eddie’s spread legs, catching the head of his cock on Eddie’s hole and eliciting a hiss in return.

You speak without even thinking, like your mouth can’t catch up with your brain, “I think so, Stevie. Give him what he’s been begging for, I know he can take it.”

Steve grabs at Eddie’s arm with his free hand, tearing it away from his eyes, forcing his head to the side, making Eddie look at you when you’re talking to him. There’s a glint in Eddie’s eyes as they lock with yours, he’s clearly enjoying this as much as both you and Steve are.

You watch with mouth agape as the head of Steve’s cock catches on Eddie’s hole, and he sinks into him with minimal effort. Eddie gasps and moans, his tummy muscles tensing up as Steve stretches him out, cock dragging along every little part of his walls.

“See why girls love it so much?” Steve grunts, just sitting there, bottomed out in Eddie’s ass and watching him curiously, “Feels good, right? The full feeling?”

“Yeah, shit, feels really good,” Eddie’s voice is choked, gravelly and it’s sending you reeling. They’re so much hotter together than you imagined, all tangled up together and panting like dogs in heat. Your tummy coils up with need, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene in front of you.

They both share a silent look between each other before Steve pulls out, shoving back in as quick as he left, testing the waters. Eddie’s back arches up off the bed, into Steve’s chest and the larger man uses it to his advantage, hooking an arm under Eddie’s back and setting a brutal pace.

It’s dirty, watching them fucking like animals. Steve’s fast, hard, the snap of his hips deafening in the otherwise silent room, just their moaning and heaving breaths breaking it up. Your pussy aches, your nipples are hard, unable to rip your eyes off of them.

Eddie’s face is screwed up in bliss, plump pink lips agape as he moans, his cock left untouched and desperate between them. Steve smiles down at him, and Eddie barks out a little chuckle in return, their demeanour losing credibility for just a moment. They’re probably thinking this is insane, they’d probably be right too.

The pool of precum in the dip of Eddie's belly makes your cunt clench, it's like nothing you'd ever seen before, watching him become a whimpering, messy, begging little thing like this. It does something to your insides that you never expected, clouds your brain, consumes you.

"You really gotta peg him some time, babygirl," Steve groans, unable to tear his eyes away from where his cock is sinking in and out of Eddie's needy, puffy hole, "He fucking loves it, don't you? Only time you've ever shut your mouth your whole damn life, honey."

Honey. Eddie whimpers, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes, and you can't believe Steve is doing this to him, making him cry and beg silently for his cock, and you love it.

"What's the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?" You cock your head at Eddie and his eyes snap to meet yours, big brown orbs filled with wet tears, mouth open in a quiet moan, "You crying? Steve's cock's pretty big, huh?"

Your voice is sickly sweet, like saccharine, even though the condescending undertone is obvious. Eddie cries out, fingers digging into the meat of Steve's biceps and you let out a barking laugh, Steve joining in and you can tell Eddie's getting close with the way his cock leaks uncontrollably, the head turning purple, begging for release.

"Y'think we can make him come untouched, babygirl?" Steve asks, finally ripping his eyes away from Eddie to look at you. Your breath hitches in your throat, his composure is mind-blowing, the only sign that he's folding is the way his mouth hangs open with every harsh thrust into Eddie's ass.

"Hm, what do you think, baby?" Your eyes flit back to Eddie, and he's struggling, you can tell, the way his brows furrow together, nose scrunching up, "Think you can be a good boy and come for us? Come on Steve's thick cock?"

Eddie nods his head fervently, and Steve doubles down on his efforts, pinning Eddie by the throat with his large hand, squeezing down as he pounds into him, the slick, loud clapping echoing in the room and going right to your pussy. You know you're soaked through, probably leaving a damp patch on Steve's plush chair, but you can't find it in you to care.

“Kiss him, Stevie. He’s begging for it,” You can’t help the way the words keep tumbling out, your arousal getting the better of you as you watch them both. Steve throws a smirk in your direction, leaning forward and capturing Eddie’s lips in a searing kiss, forcing his tongue into the heat of his mouth until Eddie’s gripping at his hair.

It’s wild, watching them going at it like this. You take the bait, the noises and visuals getting the best of you and you pull your legs up, slipping a hand deftly into your underwear. The slickness from your folds soak your fingers quickly and you whine quietly, making sure you don’t distract them as you touch yourself, fingers sliding over your clit in slow circles.

"S-Steve, god, fuck," Eddie's voice is hoarse, the first he's spoken since Steve sunk into him in one swift motion, wet with choked off sobs as his cock kicks up one last time and he's coming, slicking his belly and chest with his load.

You sit there, mouth agape as you watch his cock twitch, blurting out the last little spurts as Steve's hips begin to stutter, in a telltale sign that he's close now, Eddie clamping down on him like a vice clearly enough to do it for him.

"Fuck, holy fuck," Steve's hand slides from Eddie's throat and instead meets Eddie's hip, grip so tight it's going to leave bruises. It's oddly endearing, the way Eddie is looking up at him with half lidded eyes, and Steve is looking back like they're the only people in the room, and you'd be lying if it didn't cause a pang in your chest, "You're so fucking tight, taking me so well, m'gonna -"

Steve doesn't even get the words out before he's coming, shoving into Eddie's ass to the hilt and moaning in his ear, filling the condom with his thick release. You shove any thoughts to the back of your head, ears ringing with Steve's noises, shooting straight to your core.

You might've known Steve wouldn't be chivalrous, with the way he throws himself down on top of Eddie like a fucking heathen, causing Eddie to grunt out a small 'oomf'.

It's like what just happened, never really happened at all, with the way they start play fighting like a pair of idiots as Steve's cock slips out of Eddie, shoving at each other and laughing.

"Get off me, you fucking brute of a man." Eddie huffs and puffs, until Steve is pulling himself back up onto his haunches, letting Eddie breathe. It should be weird, watching your boyfriend and his best friend like this, but it isn't - it's like this was how your dynamic was meant to be, in an odd way.

"I always knew you were a bottom," Steve chuckles, throwing a glance in your direction, and you meet his eyes with a wide smile, "Think it's time we gave your girl some attention, Munson. What do you think?"

You glance over at Eddie who's looking at you with worried eyes and a furrowed brow, almost like he forgot you were there and now he needs to make sure you're okay. You nod your head just once, barely a motion, but Eddie gets it, a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, "C'mere, sweetheart. Let us take care of you."

And who were you to refuse these two men the opportunity of pleasuring you?

[hitlikehammers]

to die by your side (is such a heavenly way to die)

rating: t ♥️ cw: angst with a happy ending (which is actually kinda fluffy?), limbo/near-death experiences, post-S4/Upside Down-heavy, falling in love ♥️ tags: falling for each other in the space between life and death, happy ending

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-six: Love is a fire that never goes out (@sidekick-hero)

this is because of 1) this song being too close to the prompt for me to disengage it in my head, and the chorus therefore dictating this plot line, and 2) @hbyrde36 picked it and, again, I am very susceptible to people indicating they like a thing and would enjoy more, so @hbyrde36: I hope you enjoy what this became ♥️

“Oh fuck, not you, too.”

Steve looks up—when did he sit down, he doesn’t remember sitting down, he doesn’t remember how even got here, and hey, actually, where is here—

“What?” Steve looks toward the voice; familiar. See the wreath of curls around a pale face.

“This is death, right?” Eddie’s crossing over to him, crouching just beside; “I’m dead, like, I am very sure I’m dead, but you’re here, so—“

“I don’t,” Steve breathes in sharp—tries to get his bearings, tries to see but it’s just black in every direction, his lungs feel like they’re halved in size all of sudden, everything feels tight and painful and hard like inhaling isn’t something guaranteed, and his heartbeat feels like it’s dragging the carcass of something with it when it pumps, laborious and—

He’s is breathing, though, even if it’s kinda half-assed; he’s got a heartbeat, even if it feels like it’s about to fucking give out.

That doesn’t…that doesn’t sound like death.

“I,” Steve licks his lips; his mouth is so fucking dry but swelling kinda hurts and…he’s not as fucked up as he has a feeling he should be, he needs to think harder than he’s ready for just now to figure out what the last thing that happened between where he was, and where he is but: he thinks he should be more fucked up on, like, an instinctual level that knows he should be pretty fucked up, basically, and he’s not.

But again: he still hurts, and that…also doesn’t sound like death.

He swallows anyway; not that it helps.

“Max said there was this, black void,” Steve works through the first thing that comes to mind slowly, processes as he speaks; “with water,” and he looks down and sees the ripples in what he’s sitting in, moving around him but…but the reflections are right, and there’s no light so how are there even wrong reflections; he wasn’t good in his science classes but he feels pretty sure you need light to see anything in a mirror, plus—

“Water,” he flicks his hand from the standing pool around him up at Eddie without warning: “that wasn’t wet.”

Eddie splutters, but it dies down quick: it’s supposed to be wet. He expects it to be.

But it’s not. His eyes go so fucking big.

“It’s attached to the Upside Down,” Steve pushes on; “Eleven can like, come here, but,” he shakes his head and Eddie grimaces: she lost her powers.

“So it’s almost-death,” Eddie surmises, and drops into the not-water next to Steve.

“I guess so,” Steve shrugs, and draws his legs up; hugs his knees.

“Fucking great,” Eddie huffs, sneers, and it’s…Steve not sure why exactly, but it feels…targeted. Directed at him, because one, yes: he isthe only other thing here—as far as he can tell—but the words Eddie’d no-greeted him with float back into his consciousness:

Not you.

“Sorry to rain on your parade, man,” Steve bites out and shoves his head down between his thighs, maybe to breathe, maybe to think, maybe to hide, maybe to fucking cry, maybe to…fuck, he doesn’t even know.

He thinks he’s in the middle of trying to split the difference of every possible thing when Eddie’s voice breaks the still in the dark: “I didn’t,” and honestly, Steve’s never heard that voice sound so soft, so small; “that’s not what I meant,” and it’s an apology even if they words don’t add up exact, Steve feels it clear like a blow to the solar plexus. He turns to Eddie, who’s staring out at the nothing.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Eddie whispers, and his lip trembles, Steve can see that despite the lack of light.

Steve can see tears on that face, too, despite the lack of any light.

“But I hate that you’re here,” Eddie’s voice catches on kind of a whine, and Steve maybe would startle, when a hand reaches out and covers his; Eddie still does look at him, but he flattens his hand over Steve’s like a squeeze:

“That you’re here, too.”

And, oh. Okay.

Okay.

They’re here, then. Together.

Here.

___________________

It takes a while—he thinks; he thinks it’s a while, but one of the first things that makes itself plain in this godforsaken place is how times means absolutely fucking nothing, so; he think it takes a while to remember the vines.

They were coming back for Robin, and Steve would die before he let her get hurt so: that’s the last thing he remembers.

For Eddie, it’s the bats; Steve grimaces, hates even imagining like…swarms of them. More of their bites.

He’s the one who reaches for Eddie’s hand, this time—he wants to say it’s just a little comfort for the particularly bad things that are coming up as they sit here, as they draw patterns in the not-water and blow against it to make little waves just for shits, mindless and stupid: he wants to say that when it gets too much, and then keeps going, when it’s the worst, they’ve started to reach because what else can they do? Who else can they lean on?

Who’s gonna fucking know?

Actually: no. He doesn’t want to say that.

He wants to say the truth: the truth being they touch a lot. They reach a lot. They reach because it’s quiet. They reach because it’s dark. They reach because they’re frustrated. Or they’re scared. Steve could map Eddie’s calluses blind if he was asked to. Eddie traces his veins without being able to see close enough to know that he’s right.

He wants to say the truth: that he wants to touch. He craves it. And not just from anyone.

He craves this.

He doesn’t know what that fucking means.

But he’s the one who reaches, and covers Eddie’s hand, presses down to keep him when Eddie remembers the bats.

And he’s the one who leans, who rests their shoulders together and holds his breath.

But Eddie is the one who doesn’t move away, who leans in too, he tips his head onto Steve and breathes out slow so Steve can feel the warm damp of it on his skin and…

Steve’s heart’s fucking pounding, but then also it’s kinda like fluttering, and either way:

That’s not death.

___________________

Steve likes that the not-water is…not water, because lying back in it doesn’t fuck up his hair. Which…feels cleaner than it should be he figures maybe that’s just the same as both he and Eddie not being riddled with the wounds they should be rights be covered in—he can run his hands through it and that’s really all he wants, his hands, or like, you know if other hands wanted—

Whatever; he’s not going to question the not-water. He’s happy it doesn’t make him a wet dog just for trying to lay back and pretend there are stars.

Which he’d still be doing, if a weird…flapping noise hadn’t started up over to the left.

He has to squint in the no-light to see what the fuck’s going on, something in Eddie’s hands, oh shit, flapping, is it one of those fucking bats—

“What the fuck?”

Eddie freezes, and turns. And Steve sees what’s in his hands.

Doesn’t change his question.

Eddie just blinks at him. And runs his thumbs over the desk of cards he’s holding, flicking them one by one: flapping.

“Where the hell did those come from?”

Eddie shrugs. “Pocket.”

Steve gapes a little.

“You’ve had them the whole time?” because again, even if the feeling’s shifted: what the fuck

“Lots of pockets, man,” Eddie grins cheekily as he shakes his jacket out, like Steve can see any pockets.

Then he’s walking over to Steve on his knees before dropping cross-legged and shuffling the deck before he taps them out on his thigh and leans in:

“Pick your poison.”

And Steve’s played his share of cards, is actually pretty decent at poker, but, like…

“I don’t,” he bites his lip and stares at the predictable red pattern of the face-down cards;“I don’t want to think,” he finishes, kinda fucking lame, but Eddie’s not deterred, flips a few cards off the top with a thump before balancing the rest on his knee, offering half the cards he’s still holding to Steve with a little wiggle of his eyebrows:

“Go Fish?”

And Steve, he, like—

This is not-death, right, but whatever it is, it’s probably not good, and yet here Steve sits, with five cards in his hand and…Jesus.

He feels his lips stretch and he doesn’t think he’s smiled like this in…

In a while.

___________________

“Three Musketeers,” Steve answers when they’re lounging in the not-water, heads lined up so sometimes Steve feels the tickle of Eddie’s curls.

“The fuck?” Eddie huffs a laugh; the question was just things they’d miss if they never get out of here; like, it’s a little morbid and also a little hopeful all at once.

They’ve been working deeper in the category of food for a bit now, and so it’s candy bars. And Steve does not see what’s controversial about his choice, honestly.

“I love those, shit,” Steve waves his hand in the air, dismissing Eddie’s very wrong opinion, here; “they’re just,” Steve hums, tries to figure out the best way to defend a genuinely fucking excellent snack food:

“They’re simple,” and that sounds like a weak defense but look at where they are, look at their lives, that is fucking high praise. “Not too sweet and like, light and airy and,” Steve tilts his head, imagines the mouthfeel:

“Kinda delicate when you bite into ‘em,” he feels himself grin a little: “like bubbles or something,” because…yeah.

They’re awesome, but then he looks over at Eddie, who’s already turned to look at him, his gaze…something. Weighty but not oppressive. Piercing but not painful.

“Sorry,” Steve feels himself flush and it’s no the first time, or the worst time, but he’s grateful just like he is every time that there’s no fucking light and whatever lets them see at all doesn’t give away a blush; “sorry, that’s—“

“That’s adorable,” Eddie says with something…equally undefinable in his voice as much as his eyes, but this thing makes Steve feel, like, warm and tingly, a little, under his skin, in his chest; “you’re right, they’re…” and Eddie reaches for his hand, which they do a lot, yeah, but not…not so often for good things and this feels…like a good thing.

“They’re really good,” Eddie presses his hand over Steve’s, like a blanket, all encompassing—Steve has broad hands but Eddie’s fingers are longer than he’d ever noticed and he—

Steve likes how they fit.

“Under-appreciated, I think,” Eddie’s voice has lowered, softened, and it kinda feels like he’s saying something that has nothing to do with candy bars at all: “because people aren’t looking close enough to see how amazing it is.”

Yeah, for how Eddie’s staring at him, and for how Steve’s pulse has ramped up all of a sudden: Steve doesn’t really think Eddie’s talking about chocolate at all.

___________________

“You’re really good company.”

Eddie turns and blinks Steve’s way.

“What?”

Steve swallows; he’s not sure what made him say it. Except that it’s true.

“I’d have liked it,” he starts, like, expands on the point rather than revisiting the simple part; “if we could have, y’know,” and he gestures between them; “hung out.”

Eddie tilts his head, and he doesn’t smile exactly, but it kinda feels like his whole face, maybe his whole body, is a smile.

“Well,” he huffs a little laugh, like a disbelieving sound; “we’re hanging out, now.”

And Steve smiles the normal way, which is probably lesser to look at, but he wishes really hard that Eddie could, like, slip under his skin and see how it feels on the inside. “Yeah,” Steve grins at the darkness for a second, chews his lips a little, suddenly kinda…bashful, fuck:

“Yeah we are,” and then he breathes in deep, and makes himself be brave with something he doesn’t wholly understand:

“I like it,” and that’s an understatement.

And then Eddie hums, and covers Steve’s hand as he murmurs:

“Me too, sweetheart.”

And Steve’s heartbeat catches on that word, or more, reaches for that word, that name, greedy and wild and it pounds out that same desperate mantra blood-in-blood-out unwavering:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead, not—

___________________

Eddie’s smile is so fucking pretty.

He didn’t know what Speed was, like the card game, so they’ve each got a pile balanced on a knee as the flip and they’re pressed up tight at their crossed legs to make a little table from their limbs for the discards and Eddie’s just…

It’s not just his smile.

“My grandpa taught me to play,” Steve comments idly, mostly just for something to say when it looks like they’re stuck and need to flip from the sides.

“It’s chaotic,” Eddie looks up and meets Steve’s eyes, his own fucking glittering when the lack of light should make that impossible but Steve thinks Eddie is kinda impossible so probably it fits.

“I like it,” he proclaims, as he reaches for another card to start the momentum back up, raises an eyebrow at Steve and waits for him to follow suit like he’s the expect, like Steve didn’t fucking just show him this game—

“You would,” Steve snorts and Eddie?

Eddie just beams bigger, and that catches in Steve’s pulse, nudges it to sing something that’s more than just not-dead; that’s more…

That feels more

___________________

It’s the more-feeling that breaks him, in the end.

“You called me big boy.”

Steve doesn’t really have control over his mouth, when it happens. Or else, like, he doesn’t think before the words tumble out, and the lie in the not-water and stare at the absence of the starts in the not-sky.

His heart’s jumped up to his throat, now.

Eddie’s quiet, for a while, even if time doesn’t mean anything here; Eddie’s quiet, and Steve’s heart wants to jump out of his fucking mouth but if it does than it’s got two destinations: it can’t drown in the not-water so that’s fucking useless, and then there’s Eddie, Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s chest and—

“I,” Eddie finally speaks, and his voice is rough, far away;“I, yeah.”

Steve doesn’t know what he was expecting. He wasn’t planning on saying anything so there weren’t any expectations built in.

“You looked at me,” Steve’s whispering, but it wavers, it moves with the force of his blood; “like you…” Steve licks his lips, swallows a whimper because what is he doing, what is he doing—

“Being almost-dead is really going to take the thunder out of your backlash on this, Harrington,” Eddie cuts into his panic and Steve’s head snaps over to look, to try and read Eddie’s expression: scared. Bracing for impact. Like Steve would, like Steve could ever—

“No, no, I,” Steve raises himself up and scoots over to Eddie, grabs his hands and presses them together in his own, never once looks away from Eddie’s eyes as they stretch wide.

“What did you mean?” because Steve’s started this, and Eddie’s anxious for it and…he needs Eddie to understand he’s not upset, he’s confused, his heart’s all swollen for it, he just, he—

“With the, with calling me that, and with leaning in like you did in the woods,” his breath’s shaking on the exhale: “with all the looks,” and he tries to leave it all in his eyes, on his face, open and clear for all that he doesn’t understand, but also for all that he…that he hopes.

Eventually, Eddie sighs, and squeezes his eyes shut tight, almost like a wince.

But he doesn’t pulls his hands away.

“You’re not stupid, Steve.”

Steve shakes his head, even if Eddie can’t see it.

“I’m very stupid.”

And Eddie’s eyes fly open, look wrathful, look offended on…Steve’ behalf, what the fuck?

And yeah, yeah, he’s opening his mouth now to fight him, to fight Steve about Steve and…no. No, that’s not the point.

“I’m stupid,” Steve says again, but quick so he can get it out; “about like,” he tries to find the right words and remembers Robin’s point on it once:

“About, you know, matters of the heart.”

Eddie’s features slacken, and his mouth drops open as he blinks at Steve before he eventually chokes out:

“Heart?”

But Steve can hear it. He can hear the confusion, like his own, but also just like his own:

He thinks he can hear the hope.

“You held that bottle to my throat and all I wanted was for you to lean closer,” he confesses, and it feels amazing, like he can breathe again, or see in color even though there’s so little color, here.

“And slit it?” Eddie croaks, incredulous, still a little slack-jawed and Steve laughs, because he can breathe, and—

“And kiss me, you dick.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, and his eyes somehow get bigger, and his chest’s heaving and Steve wants that not to be for fearing, he wants Eddie to be anything but scared, he wants Eddie to be hoping—

“Stevie,” Eddie barely breathes and…it’s not scared, or else, not like it could be. It’s hesitant. It’s…full, of something Steve thinks might be incredible.

“You call me sweetheart,” Steve leans in, pushes the point, leans more until he’s close enough where he can feel Eddie’s breath on his face; “here. Now.”

Eddie nods immediately, doesn’t try to hide from it.

“Yeah, I do,” he breathes, and watches Steve so careful, unblinking.

“What does it mean,” Steve pushes, angles his lips without even thinking, without making the choice but Eddie?

Eddie makes the choice, and he kisses Steve so fucking sure and sweet and still wild somehow and Steve never wants to not be here. Never wants to not have this mouth under his, never wants to not have Eddie’s hands in his own: he doesn’t wholly understand it, where it comes from or what all it means but…his heart’s fucking dancing, the joy’s almost sore for it’s size and when Steve breathes between them, when they break for half a second to breathe and stare and marvel and Eddie looks like he’s entranced, like he’s overjoyed, and the only other thing here is Steve?

Fuck. Fuck.

If this ends up being death, that’s okay. That’s okay, as long as there’s also this.

___________________

He’s on top of Eddie’s chest, curled so so close, when it starts to feel…different. In his body. Like something pulling him.

The dark is still absolute but it almost feels like they’re on the brink of something, like dawn could come.

Steve fucking hates it.

“I don’t want to die alone,” Eddie whispers against his head, kisses at his hair.

“I don’t want you to die,” Steve grits out, almost violent, because isn’t this how it started, wasn’t that what Eddie meant, that he didn’t want Steve here, too—but Steve won’t accept that.

He cannot fucking accept that.

“I don’t want you to die at all.”

Eddie drags the tip of his nose back and forth against Steve’s hair some more as he breathes, breathes, breathes—

“To die by your side,” Eddie murmurs low; “would be my privilege,” and Steve chokes on a whine, a sob—it’s too much. It’s too much, and he needs this man, he needs him so much, he think he fucking loves hi—

“Maybe it’s not dying,” Steve tries, looks out into the abyss and he can’t see what’s on the way but he feels it; they both feel it: “maybe we’ll,” and he grabs Eddie’s hand and brings it to his lips.

“Maybe we’ll wake up.”

Maybe. Maybe.

“Kiss me,” Eddie exhales and Steve pulls back, slides up Eddie’s chest and hovers over him, makes to claim his lips but then Eddie lifts a palm, pauses Steve as he presses it over his racing heart and blinks at him, makes the tears fall from his lashes:

“Kiss me again when we wake up.”

And Steve will, he will, but.

He’s gonna kiss Eddie now, too. He’s going to kiss Eddie always.

He thinks his heart’s going too fast to beat out words but that, in itself, has to mean something that isn’t…death.

So he pours that conviction, and all the hope he’s got left, into Eddie as he devours him, breathes into him like they can melt together, like if Steve’s air lifts Eddie’s lungs they’ll be one person, one living soul and whatever happens…

Whatever happens will take them both.

___________________

Eddie splutters, clutches his chest; his heart’s racing, it feels like his blood’s on fire because every beat fucking burns, and the tear of his shirt where it’s stuck to his skin—dried blood, fucking hell—all up his side is absolutely disgusting, Jesus fuck—

“Eddie!”

He turns and that, that’s Henderson, and he squints; that’s Henderson running toward him, less than a minute away at that pace and Eddie doesn’t know if he can sit up but he’ll try, he digs his fingers into the mud and makes to lift—

And then something crashes into him, pins him right back down.

Covers his hands. Presses.

And he can’t get a word out, can barely fucking breathe before his lips are covered, before he’s being kissed so fucking desperate and giddy and all these feelings being fed straight into him, his heart leaping up in his throat to steal a taste but it doesn’t need to, it doesn’t need to because he feels…he feels it all everywhere, and he looks up and he shakes, he laughs, he’s gonna fucking cry—

“You woke up,” Eddie whispers, marvels, thinks his whole face is going to split open with, with joy and Steve, Steve is here, and he’s smiling back, and he’s breathing and they’re, it’s—

There’s light here. Steve’s eyes are like molten copper, they flicker, they shine.

“Promised,” Steve murmurs close, his lips moving Eddie’s lips with each syllable and the taste is, is…sweet and soft and light and perfect and Eddie almost doesn’t ask because it feels so right, so unquestionable but also he wants, something fierce and unwavering, and he needs to be sure where the water’s real, and the ripples mean something when you shift the whole fucking world, when you feel this big you know it’ll move the earth breathe your feet, so he has to ask:

“That the only reason?”

He still feels the hope from wherever they were, though; he feels it still, here, and he believes in it more in the light, he thinks, and he looks at Steve, takes him in, sees his chest rising and his pulse at the neck: real. Real, and so beautiful, and so, so—

Steve leans and kisses him hard, almost painful but it’s divine, Eddie will bask in the sting of it for the rest of his fucking life if he’s allowed, and then—

Then Steve pulls back and pins him with his eyes, now, fierce and on fire and they steal Eddie’s breath with feeling, with intent as Steve grabs at his shoulders, pulls them flush together and growls against his ear, like a vow almost:

“Only reason?” Steve huffs, shakes his head. “Not even close,” and he drags his lips over Eddie’s skin, catches Eddie’s hair, weaves into Eddie’s heartbeat:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead

in-love, in-love, in-love—

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 

♥️

divider credit here

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 14th: Roomates | Come As You Are - Nirvana | Impulsive a/n: oops, this got smutty. (lex writing smut without 50k words first? what?!) steddie, bathtubs, handjobs, getting together, they're so in love it makes me sick <333 read on ao3 | link to masterpost on ao3

Eddie’s body aches. 

Not just today, not just because it’s rainy and damp. He hasn’t hurt himself recently, and he’s not recovering from a stage-diving related injury. His body aches because some days, it just does. 

No one leaves the Upside Down unscathed, least of all Eddie. Months of beeping machines and hourly checks in the intensive care unit turned into less frequent interruptions in the main floor. Slowly, this turned into home care at Wayne’s new trailer and, eventually, moving into a small apartment with quite possibly the most consistent surprise since that week from Hell began: Steve Harrington. 

It’s been strange, having Steve around so much. They work as roommates, knowing one another as well as they do. They’re never in the other’s way, maybe because they’re rarely ever apart when they’re in the apartment anyways. Besides, Eddie’s never hated the guy, just what he once stood for and maybe some of the company he’d kept but they’d never been friends either. Eddie’s not even sure if they’re friends now, truthfully. Most of his friendships have come about based on shared interests, not trauma or monsters. 

And definitely not shared baths. 

Eddie’s body aches, so Steve does what he’s done since he started helping Wayne care for Eddie in the earliest days of his recovery. He draws him a bath, and sits with him in lavender-scented warm water. Eddie hisses as his skin adjusts to the water, some wounds and scars still sensitive to temperature, as he sits in the space that’s been carved out for him over the past year between Steve’s legs, his back against Steve’s chest and his legs straight out in front of them. 

As his body acclimates and his muscles begin to relax, his head tips back to rest against Steve’s shoulder. It’d all started innocently enough, with Steve helping Eddie bathe in the earliest days of his recovery. But day by day, bath by bath, Eddie loses another layer of clothing, and then another layer of shame, until all that’s left is raw vulnerability in the comfort of Steve’s embrace. 

He’s not sure if they’re friends because as Steve carefully shampoos and rinses his hair, pours warm water over his shoulders, and massages the tightness in his neck, Eddie thinks they could be more. After all, he can count on one hand the number of friends whose cocks have been this close to his ass. On one finger, really. It’s just Steve. 

Eddie’s body aches, and for long moments, he sits with the silence that’s become comfortable between them as he thinks. His body aches for more Steve, for his hands to drift into the very few places they’ve yet to explore—

“Steve, at what point does this become uh, not platonic?” 

The words are supposed to stay in his head. The question is supposed to be a hypothetical one to himself that he never gets an answer to because he’ll never ask. His impulsive mouth gets the better of him. 

Steve doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t release the luxurious pressure of his thumbs into the knot he’s discovered between Eddie’s shoulder blades. Instead, Eddie feels his chest rumble with soft laughter before he responds.

“At what point did I say that it was?” 

“Well, we never said it wasn’t. Guess I assumed.” Eddie shivers and tilts his head to the right as Steve sweeps his hair to the left and presses his lips to the side of his exposed neck.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Ed, but I don’t make a habit of sitting dick-out with my friends in bathtubs. That’s just for you.” His lips trail from neck to shoulder to collarbone as his hand glides from where it rests on his stomach lower, lower, lower. 

“Steve…” Eddie whispers, hips moving on their own accord. 

“Can I touch you? I’ve wanted to touch you like this for so long.” 

“Please, yes, please.” Eddie’s nearly embarrassed by the sound that escapes him, something akin to a whimper, something desperate. Nearly. 

He’s too far gone already to actually care because Steve wraps a hand carefully around Eddie’s hardening cock and glides slowly from root to tip, exploratory. Eddie’s surrounded by Steve and water and both make him feel weightless. 

This isn't going to last long, he knows.

Up and down, up and down, as Eddie falls deeper and deeper into a trance, nothing but their quickening breaths and the undulating, sloshing of the water around them. Steve sucks a few small bruises into his skin on top of his shoulder before working up and gently nipping at Eddie’s ear. 

“How’s it feel, baby? Feel good?” Steve whispers, hot and wet right into his ear. 

“So fucking good, should’ve said something so much earlier, Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans, letting one of his arms float up and tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. 

“Mmm, yeah, should’ve. I should’ve made it more obvious too though, how fucking bad I’ve wanted you. So long, Ed, so long.” 

Eddie’s hips roll up and Steve wraps his free arm around Eddie’s torso, holding him close, safe. “I’m close, Steve, God, don’t stop, please.”

Steve's lips graze his ear as he keeps going. “I’ve got you, Eddie. I’ve always got you. Go ahead, come for me, baby. Let me see.” 

There’s something in the way Steve says always that sounds like a promise, an oath, and it knocks Eddie over the edge. He comes with a silent shout, his head dropping back to Steve’s shoulder as he feels rope after rope coat Steve’s hand and be swept away into the water. 

His ears ring and his vision goes white, the only outside stimulus that breaks through is the feeling of Steve's hands on him and Steve's voice. Distantly, Eddie registers Steve praising him, talking him through his orgasm, telling him how beautiful he is. Eventually, his body goes limp and Steve swaps arms, using his clean hand to turn Eddie’s face by the chin. He captures Steve’s lips against his own, an awkward angle for a first kiss, and it’s not lost on Eddie that Steve’s now had his dick in his hand before they’d even kissed. 

They’ve never done anything traditionally anyways. 

“Eddie?” Steve starts, breaking the kiss and looking at him with glassy eyes and a crooked grin. 

“Yeah?” Eddie returns the smile.

Steve pushes a piece of wet, curly hair out of Eddie's face. “I meant it, what I said. I’ve always got you, for as long as you want me to.” 

Eddie’s body aches with a truth that he’s known for at least a year, one that he wants to say aloud. One that he hopes Steve feels, too. 

But tonight’s been a night of confessions already, and Eddie can’t help but feel that tonight is just the beginning, the beginning of many more nights with plenty of opportunities for declarations and commitments. 

“Careful with those promises, Stevie. That might be a really long fucking time.” 

Steve hums and kisses him again, soft and slow, one hand in his hair. 

“Good.”

[irishvampireboy]

Okay but like, everything you put in your tags on that why Steve goes to hair salon posts plus also Eddy has a soft tummy 😊

Now you listen here!!!! I had to wait til i got home from work so i could answer this PROPERLY. Cannot BELIEVE you would do this to me all nonchalant like that!

I see your "soft tummy eddie" and raise you "soft tummy and THIGHS eddie" lets fucking GOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

SO!!! Eddie literally gets them so so high. He's probably got a bit of a dependency on going after all the shit that goes down. But the weed helps with his aches and pains AND gives him an appetite so he can actually eat without being repulsed by the food.

So he's been smoking. And eating. And he's soft now. He squishy and soft and warm. And he'd been lounging in moatly sweats for the most part but the seam across his ass had finally given out one day when he was bending to grab the milk in the fridge. So he'd taken a chunk of their government money and went and got a small assortment of clothes like ... two sizes up. So they'll last awhile.

Anyway he drags Steve into his weekly and then nightly smoke sessions. And the smoke relaxes steve too. But one day he nods off and just, slow falls onto Eddie's thigh. His head hitting Eddie's leg wakes him but he just murmurs sleepily and kinda wiggles down to get comfy-er. And that's when eddie starts touching his hair and steve just hums.

He maybe rolls over too, so he's facing eddie. And Eddie's stomach is right there. He could move forward a bit and just... shove his face there. Knows Eddie's soft belly would give with the pressure and just, hold him there. Soft and warm. But he doesnt. Not that first time. He just listens to Eddie's breathing, his whispered, "so soft. Wow." As his fingers move through Steve's hair, and he smiles, and falls asleep.

And then like a week later, Steve is so tired, not even that high, had a bad week, with bad dreams, but he's here now. With Eddie. On, Eddie. Head resting on his thigh, face turnwd toward his stomach, one arm shoved up behind Eddie's back. He's not holding onto Eddie. Yet. Just, has his arm shoved back there, likes the pressure.

But then Eddie's touching his hair. Fingers moving soft. And slow. With INTENT. And he hears Eddie's little, "hmm soft." Can hear the smile on his face without seeing it. And Steve can't take it anymore. He moves the arm shoved behind Eddie, moves his hand up and grabs onto Eddie's love handle and just, pulls himself closer, his head smooshing into Eddie's soft belly.

"You too Eds." He mumbles, the sound muffled by Eddie's shirt, and the soft skin beneath it.

He feels Eddie's freeze. Feels him tense up. And that just won't do. This is their relaxing time. Eddie's too. So Steve's pulls back, just a bit, just enough to look up at Eddie with one eye and a smile and say,

"You're soft too. I like it." Eddie stares him for a long time, so Steve just keeps smiling his soft smile until Eddie's lips twitch a little, a hesitant smile curling his own lips. He looks unsure. So Steve hooks his other arm up under Eddie's knee, so his hand can rest on Eddie's other thigh. And he squeezes. Eddie shivers, lets out a breathy little laugh.

"Is that okay?" Steve asks, rubbing the side of his face on Eddie's thigh, he's vaguely aware that he may be giving too much Cat Energy, but with Eddie beneath him so soft and warm, he can't find the strength to care.

"Um. Ye-" Eddie's voice cracks. He clears his throat. Opens his mouth, closes it.

"Mhm." He hums, nodding a few times, quick, his cheeks are so so pink now. Steve just smiles, closes his eyes again and nuzzled forward, into Eddie's belly, curling his arm tighter, pulling Eddie closer. He hears a startled squeak above him and smiles even wider.

"Keep playing with my hair." Steve says into Eddie's stomach, pulls back, looks up at Eddie to finding him starring down at him, eyes wide and full of what Steve thinks might be wonder.

"Huh?" Eddie huffs, when he realizes Steve is looking at him and waiting for something.

"My hair. Please?" Steve asks, suddenly feeling shy, his own face going hot, he knows he's red like Eddie now. But his words startle Eddie into action.

"Oh! Right. Yeah. Of course, yeah, duh." He's nodding again. Hand raised next to Steve's head, waiting for him to get comfy again, Eddie's fingers flexing before Steve settles back in, face shoved into Eddie's softness, Eddie sinks his fingers into Steve's hair gently, like always.

Steve hums happily, hears Eddie hum in return. He feels warm all over, so safe, and warm, and Eddie is so soft beneath him. Beneath his head. Beneath his hand. Beneath him and in front of him and wrapped in his arm. He's soft all over and Steve just wants to climb on top of him and stay there forever. But not today. Maybe next week. Or tomorrow.

And they do talk about it. Eventually. Eddie asks about it. Eventually. And Steve kisses him. Eventually.

Because Eddie looks so skeptical, like the thought of Steve liking him when he's all soft now, he's pudgy, he's had to buy new clothes.

He looks at Steve like that's not possible. So Steve kisses him. Steve touches him. Everywhere it makes Eddie squirm. Steve kisses there too. To make sure Eddie knows he loves it. Loves him. Loves him soft and sweet and so so gentle with Steve.

He's everything Steve's ever wanted. Someone soft, and safe, and sweet, who would be soft, and safe, and sweet, to him.

.

.

.

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!!!! DO YOU SEE?!?!?! DO YOUBSEE WHAT YOUVE MADE ME DOOOO! 🤣🤣🤣🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

[steviewashere]

The Lip of The Bottle 🔞Minors DNI🔞

Rating: Explicit CW: Alcohol, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent (Because They are Drunk)Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Divergence, Smut, Very Little Plot, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Freak, Steve Harrington is a Dork, Eddie Munson is a Freak, Micropenis Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Micropenis, Slight Voyeurism, Masturbation, Food Play (In a Technical Sense?), Food Sex (Also In a Technical Sense?), Inappropriate Use of a Champagne Bottle, Champagne Bottle as a Hole, Improvised Hole, Light Teasing, Light Switch in Power, Lube, Anal Sex, Come Play, Drinking Come, Implied Aftercare, Wet & Messy, They're Freaks Remember when I said that I had a fic I was working on where Eddie has a micropenis and then fucks the opening of a champagne bottle? Anyway. Here it is. The ending isn't very satisfying, but here we go.

🍾—————🍾 It was New Years Eve, 1986. Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington are going to be ringing in the new year by celebrating their seven month anniversary. They’ve been all over each other, hands on waists, palms against asses, lips on necks, hickeys under shirts. Champagne tipsy and unrelentingly horny for one another.

Now, Eddie’s completely naked on their bed, crouched down on his hands and knees, letting Steve relax him from behind. Red in the face from the bit of alcohol and the hands on him. He mewls when fingers crook inside of him, scissoring slow and gentle. Until he’s relaxed enough to settle back on his heels.

His palms rest face-up on his thighs as Steve rustles behind him.

Then, a chilled glass of champagne is pressed into his hand. “Drink that, baby,” Steve husks into Eddie’s right ear. He gently traces the few stray strands of hair at Eddie’s sideburns, plucks them between his fingers, and tucks them behind his ear. Steve picks up his own glass from the bedside table, the glass barely clinking against the wood. With his free left hand, he trails his palm over the front of Eddie’s torso. Stopping to gently roll the bud of his remaining nipple.

Eddie takes a sip of his glass. But otherwise keeps still for Steve to work with.

“Wanna watch,” Steve lightly slurs. “Touch yourself for me, Eds. Gonna sit here and watch, m’kay?”

The first time they had sex, Eddie was worried that Steve would immediately be turned off by the looks of him. He wasn’t big. Not at all. Couldn’t even be called average. And the size of his penis had been a major turn off for other hook-ups previously, but Steve wasn’t a hook-up; he’s everything.

And, thankfully, Steve was never disgusted. In fact, he was head over heels infatuated with the size of Eddie’s cock. All three inches of him.

Eddie takes his free hand and strokes himself in one, slow stripe. He doesn’t even need to put his whole palm on himself, but he tries anyway. For Steve’s arousal. Because Steve always says something.

Steve’s champagne sticky lips trail kisses over Eddie’s shoulder blades. His chin digging softly into warm skin as he settles back. Hums, raking it all in. “Look at you,” Steve coos. “Don’t even—don’t hav’t’a use all you got. So small, Eds. So cute.”

He grunts at that. Whines something light in the back of his throat. “‘M not cute, Stevie.”

“Noooo,” Steve drags. Corrects himself, “Sexy.” He presses his own naked front into Eddie’s back. His chest hair tickling, scratchy. He’s so warm. Probably from a combination of his tipsy state and the fact he’s rutting up against Eddie’s ass. “Fuck,” he whines, “fuck, Eddie, can’t get enough of your dick.”

He fucking loves when Steve whines. Loves knowing just what he’s doing to him.

Instead of responding, Eddie downs the rest of his champagne in one go. Putting his entire focus on working himself to be fully erect. It doesn’t take long, not with Steve’s body heat against him. In fact, by the time he’s completely hard, Steve is directing Eddie’s hands away.

Another thing is pressed into Eddie’s hold.

The champagne bottle. Empty and sticky and glass.

“Remember when you fucked the little hole I made with my fist?” Steve breathes warm into Eddie’s ear, showing off his nearly closed left fist. Eddie can only nod in response. “Should do that, but with the opening of the bottle, Eds.” And fuck, that sounds hot to Eddie’s bleary brain.

“And if I get stuck?”

Steve hums. “You’re too small to get stuck, baby.”

Carefully, Eddie brings the bottle to the tip of his dick. Before he sticks himself inside, though, he leans back into Steve’s chest. “Hand me the lube, baby? Gotta make sure we do this safely.”

Without words, Steve fumbles for their shitty bottle of lube. It’s not entirely effective, but it’ll do the job this once. He pops the cap and holds it dizzyingly above Eddie’s dick. His hand uncoordinated as it squeezes way too much from the bottle. Enough to make Eddie look like he took a dip into the precarious glass of champagne Steve has yet to drain.

As if on cue, Steve finishes up his drink. Sways into Eddie’s back, hands gripping for purchase on Eddie’s bony hips. Cheek against his shoulder. Mumbles, “There you go, babe. Now…Now show me?”

With that, Eddie works himself inside the lip of the bottle. Centimeter by centimeter. Savoring that he can set his own pace, not wanting this to be over before he’s even started. Against the shell of his ear, Steve stutters hot and cold breaths, gasping little gulps of air, whimpering unapologetically.

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Baby…Baby, this is tight,” he pants. It’s true, he relishes in the deliciously light pressure wrapped around his dick. If only it was warm, he thinks. Warm like the inside of Steve’s red, wet mouth.

Steve bucks his hips, hard, against Eddie’s ass again. Whines with his mouth hanging open. “Can I—please? Wanna be inside, Eds. Keep…keep going with the bottle, but I wanna have my fun, too.”

“Yeah, sweetheart,” Eddie moans.

It’s a sloppy affair. Steve’s right hand leaves its perch on Eddie’s hip. The shockingly familiar sound of a dripping tongue against a dry palm. And then the first miserable, low groan of an animal waking inside Steve’s chest as he grips to himself. When the other hand leaves, Eddie knows to expect the steady stream of cold lube pouring down his lower back into the deep crevice of his asscrack. He ruts into the bottle when it happens, all high whimper and a sad little back and forth pop as his mini-piece corks and uncorks the lip of the glass.

The wet tip of Steve’s weeping cock brushes against Eddie’s right cheek, fingers prying away his left to give way to his pulsing hole. Exposed air makes it pucker, ready to kiss and swallow all that Steve is willing to give him. And as Steve’s cock makes its slow, weak passage over warmed skin, Eddie takes a sharp inhale at the first few seconds of intrusion. Exhaling reedy and sharp through his teeth as Steve goes one centimeter, two, six, then the final five. An arduous thing, drawn out with the warped, warbling, gurgling moan trapped in the back of Steve’s throat.

He hears the little hot droplets seep down the inside of the champagne bottle. Barely anything in comparison to the little bit of sticky alcohol still swishing around the very bottom. Wonders, briefly, what it would all taste like. Fruity and sweet—all from the dry liquid—then acidic and lowly sour from his come. A cocktail in his mouth, made by, well—his cock.

His cock: a starter dildo for an elf orgy.

Steve’s chin digs into his shoulder. Mouth close and wet to Eddie’s ear. He doesn’t move very much inside of Eddie’s hungry asshole, but he does chance a few slow rolls. It’s a wonder he has the capacity to keep going, the alcohol swirling inside him, his heavy flour sack like body folding Eddie down nearly on his hands and knees. 

“Mmm,” Steve hums, “you’re kinda tight tonight.” His hands fall from Eddie’s hips, kneading his cheeks instead. It’s a combination of sensations that makes Eddie wonder if he had a vagina, if he’d be dripping down to knees from it all—he’s wet and knows, the champagne bottle collects all it can. Not much, but something. “You’re so…so warm,” his boyfriend slurs, “warm and—warm and sexy. Feel sexy, baby? You look like a million bucks.” 

The last word is exclaimed a little too loud into Eddie’s ear, but he won’t say anything. Not when he chances a quick little glance over his shoulder. Steve’s eyes half-lidded and glassy. Cheeks flushed a splotchy red. His lips bitten pink and stretched sweet like taffy as he takes in the scene before him. There’s a little bit of spit spilling from the sides of Steve’s mouth, like he’s a drooling, hungry mess. His little toy really does this all to Steve and if that isn’t the ego boost of the century, then he doesn’t know what is.

His hips stutter forward. Pwop, goes his dick from the bottle, fwip, as it goes back in. “Yeah, Stevie? You like seeing my pathetic little dick fuck something for you?” He teases.

“’S’not pathetic,” Steve protests, “it’s…hot! You’re…Eds, you’re so hot.” His hands move away again, though this time his arms shift, too. They wrap over top Eddie’s. Hands joining on the bottle, holding it in place as Eddie ruts forward again. “Let me help, baby,” Steve coos sloppy and syrupy, “wanna help you feel good.” And to punctuate, Steve opens his legs wider, knees still bracketing Eddie’s, and he rolls his pelvis away and forward—seated so far, Eddie swears he tastes Steve in his mouth. Salty and clean and sweaty, a little like the laundry detergent from how long his dick had been trapped in his boxers.

Eddie lets Steve take the reigns. He moves his palms around to Steve’s backside, fingers clenching and squishing his fat ass, relishing in the weak little groans he gets deep in his ear canal. Looking down at his crotch, though, he takes in that Steve isn’t doing a very good, coordinated job. More tilting the bottle down rather than just taking it away, but Eddie doesn’t care.

Steve whimpers in his ear as his eyes stay glued to Eddie’s little dick. Teeth biting hard into his lower lip. He sounds a bit like a girl, if Eddie is honest. Pitchy and nasally in his nose. His hands shake around the bottle. His hips move erratically, trying to keep up with the scene that he built and directed.

So, Eddie meets him halfway. He grinds back into Steve’s pelvis. He pulls Steve into him when he’s too busy focusing on the bottle. Supporting both of their weight with his back and knees, definitely due to the fact that Steve can barely keep himself upright without swaying dangerously side to side, rocking the mattress with his half-effort movements. But the sounds he keeps making, Eddie wishes he had a tape recorder handy just so he could keep this preserved. Just so he had something to listen to late at night, knowing he made no New Year’s resolution or wish because he has everything he could ever need: a beautiful boyfriend, messy and amateur sex, and a life simple enough to just exist in.

He thinks he won’t come before Steve does, but then, of course, Steve surprises him. One hand coming away from the bottle, obviously sweat damp and still trembling, lays itself flat over his lower abdomen. Fingers splayed wide and thick over his skin. Dragging his fingertips through the top of Eddie’s pubic bush, curling strands around his fingers, nails dully scratching as if he’s petting.

And—“Fuck,” Eddie wantonly moans, “Steve, fuck.”

“I wanna come in you,” Steve wheezes, “you…you should come, too.” He forces the bottle to swallow all of Eddie’s micro-dick. “In here,” he lightly demands, “come in here. I wanna see you do it.”

He kneads Steve’s ass in his hands again. “Love you like this,” he murmurs into the side of Steve’s face, below his eye, as close to his ear as he can get. His insides squirm, warming and tightening low at the top of his pelvic bone. “You’re so whiny and pathetic, babygirl,” he husks, “maybe next time I’ll make you choke on me. Maybe next time I’ll make you watch me fuck this bottle and you’ll have to come without your hands.”

“Hnnn,” Steve whimpers, half-cries into Eddie’s ear. “Yeah,” he pants, “next time, Eds. Next time, next time, please next time.” The legs on either side of Eddie’s try to squeeze together, thighs heavy and sweaty caging in Eddie’s own. He won’t move away again, instead trying to press himself closer and farther into Eddie’s back. Into his ass.

Eddie moves his right arm away. Brings his hand up and splays it over the side of Steve’s face he can’t see. Presses Steve’s head into his. Ear to ear. Sweaty hair to sweaty hair. With one final rut into the lip of the bottle, Eddie’s muscles tighten, his fingers tense over Steve’s ruddy face, fingers digging into his hairline—and he comes minuscule, unimportant ropes into the bottle. The splatter an almost nothing sound. It’s barely anything, yet it seems to be everything to Steve as he lets go. Ropes and ropes of hot, spiky with speed come spilling into Eddie’s asshole. Enough that he feels full with it—not just the alcohol or the dinner or the love he has—but the come Steve’s devoted to the arousal he has for Eddie Munson’s micropenis.

The bottle comes off of Eddie’s dick, but not before he can stop Steve from taking it away completely. He wraps his left hand over Steve’s. And guides, drags their arms up to his face. The fluid inside swishes, splashes around like the alcohol had. And he brings it up to his lips, wrapping them around the entire mouth of the glass. Guzzling, chugging down the dredges of champagne and come for one, exactly what he thought, sweet, fruity, salty concoction of a cocktail.

He pops away from it, panting uselessly. “Delicious, Stevie. Fuck, that was good,” he breathes.

And he adores the sound that gets out of Steve.

A tiny, yet roaring, baby of a groan.

Afterwards, the bottle laying sideways on their carpeted bedroom floor, a top sheet cool to their legs, comforter pushed away by their feet, Eddie holds Steve in his arms. “You’re ridiculous, Steve. That was…that was something else.”

“Did you mean it?” Steve then asks quietly.

“Hm?”

“Next time? You’ll let me watch next time? Make me come without my hands?”

“If you want that,” Eddie whispers, “if my babygirl wants that.”

Steve whines into his shoulder. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters.

“And you’re drunk, baby. Even though I am, too”—

“Drunk on you,” Steve murmurs in an adoringly soft murmur.

“Steve, you’re a dork, go to sleep.”

Against Eddie’s side, Steve octopuses. Legs intertwined. Arms heavy and sprawled. “But next time, Eds? Next time, I want to feel the inside of the bottle. Wanna choke on you, Eddie. Please?”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. Go to sleep and I promise you’ll get what you want.”

“‘M’kay,” Steve happily sighs. “New Year’s resolution complete, by the way.”

Eddie can only roll his eyes fondly, pull Steve in closer, and mutter, “You’re unbelievable.”

🍾—————🍾

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

It’s a full house, bustling along, a wedding well underway.

“Red.” I hold up a bridesmaid’s dress, in black from the rack my mother pushed me towards.

“Black?” Red lifts a brow at me.

“It’ll be slimming for Gwen.” I grin at her.

Gwen shoves dresses to one side, glaring at me. Wanda and I laugh.

“Fuck you, bitches.”

“We love you.” I laugh, stepping between the legs of the rack, climbing over to her. Wanda follows, Gwen laughs. My hand lands on her small belly she’s growing. “And we love you.” I coo at her belly.

“Kiss ass.” Gwen snorts, Wanda joins in, cooing at our niece or nephew.

“Inherit aunties, right hook.” I whisper.

“Y/N!” Gwen laughs hard.

“Now that would bless by Satan.” We look over to see Clint joining us.

“Packman?” I lift a brow at him. “Joining us for some wedding planning?” Grinning at him.

He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Nodding his head slowly. “I was hoping to talk to you, boss.” He shrugs a shoulder, a small smirk on his lips.

Glancing at the girls, they nod.

“We’ll go with the black.” Wanda nods. Gwen agrees with a nod, both moving to leave us.

“Now what could have you coming over here during wedding planning?” Smirking at him as we move to sit on the stairs.

He chuckles softly. “I’d say this is your last chance to trade up.” I laugh, bumping my shoulder into him.

“Thought you were just going to be my fantasy?” I grin at him.

He nods slowly.

“Mmm. I see.” I nod slowly, looking away from Clint, watching the movements of the house. People running, fabrics, planners, glasses, the girls, my mother, Frankie and TC all hurrying about.

“See what?” He swallows.

“You won’t be my fantasy anymore. I’m not your type.” I smile, looking over at him.

He scratches the back of his head. “Nah I’ll always have this love for you.” He sighs.

“Love for me like a sister.” Smiling at him.

He sighs. “Yeah, like the baby sister I didn’t ask for, ever. Didn’t really want. But got anyways.” We laugh.

“I didn’t sign up for two more brothers, you know.” I nudge him in the shoulder with my own.

“You know I’d kill someone over you?” He sighs, smiling at me.

Laughing, I nod. “Think Bucky beat you to that.”

“I’d save you a thousand times over, trade places with your bruised and broken body, to protect you. You know that?” He glances over at me.

“I never said thank you, Packman. For saving me.” I whisper softly.

“Don’t ever do that to me again.” He whispers.

Glancing over at him, I smirk.

He sighs, shaking his head.

“No promises. I’m a wild card.” Winking at him, making him laugh.

“No shit.” He scraps his hand over his mouth.

We sat there in silence for a moment.

“What do you need from me?” I ask quietly.

He smiles at me. “Don’t know why I thought I was going to have to explain anything to you.”

“I know you, Packman.” Shrugging a shoulder.

“Tell me you approve?” There’s a plead in his pretty storm blue eyes.

Nodding slowly. “We both know you don’t need my approval.”

“I do.”

“Packman,”

“I need it. I need your approval. I need to know you agree, think it’s a good match.” He swallows.

“It’ll be a national sad day when you announce it.” Smirking at him.

He softly laughs. “As Satan, as my baby sister, the reason we Saintz do what we do. As queen, taking over the table, boss ass bitch, I need to know it’s right.” Tipping his head he watches me.

“Well you didn’t have to force her to fall in line or worry who you Saintz are.” I laugh, Clint hangs his head, chuckling. “So she’s got that going for her. A little normal, maybe boring, but we can help with that.” I grin at him.

“That girl gang is going to be something out of nightmares.” He shakes his head.

“Bet on it, Packman.” I grin.

“I always bet on you, Sweets.” We grin at each other.

“Okay.” I nod.

He lifts a brow. “Okay?”

“She cheats or looks at another dude and I’m going to bless her.” Cutting my eyes to him. He grins at me.

“With your right hook?”

“And my knee.” Shrugging.

He grins, nodding. “Satan combo.”

“I approve, Packman.”

“Think the table will?” He wonders. “They weren’t keen on us bidding on you.”

Leaning back for a moment, I stood suddenly. “Come on, Packman.”

He stands following me. Passing TC I tip my head indicating for him to follow.

Knocking on the door, I push it open.

“Little Miss?” My father looks up at me stepping in. “Boys.” He nods to the two following me in.

“I need you to call a meeting.” I rest on the arm of a chair.

He looks from me to them. “Any reason?"

“Packman is bidding on Bobbi.” I explain.

“Congrats Barton.” He smiles.

“Thank you, Sir.” Clint nods.

“And you want to make sure it gets approved.” My father looks to me.

Shrugging, I tuck a foot up on the seat, my hands on my knees. “I’m putting my weight behind it, daddy. Bobbi helped save me that night, with Clint.” I nod.

My father swallows hard, leaning back in his chair. “And you want this to be your first movement at the table?”

“My life, for their happiness. I’m sure.”

My father locks eyes with Clint, before nodding.

“I’ll make the call, eight tonight.” He nods, grabbing his phone.

“We’ll be there.” I nod, standing.

“Miss,” my dad calls when I get to the door, looking back to him “you’ll be the first woman at the table, ever.” He swallows hard. A flicker of fear in his eyes.

Lifting my chin “I know daddy, it’s a good thing you helped birth Satan. Some old men don’t scare me. I fight boys, and my father will set anyone afire.” I smirk at him.

“Your soon to be husband kills people for you.” TC smirks.

“Imagine, what my brothers would do.” I smirk, shrugging.

“We’d burn the town down, Sweets. Blood on our hands for you is an easy choice.” Clint chuckles.

Looking at my father, I smile softly at him. “They tried to cut me down, I survived. That was their first mistake daddy.” My father smiles softly, nodding.

I leave the office, TC and Clint following.

--------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @joannie95 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @hookslove1592 @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love

[ladykailitha]

Little Runaway Part 5

Oh god, guys. I love you all. I got so many comments on the last one. I love writing smart Steve. He needs more credit than he gets. And once I’m done with it, I think you guys are going to love Ser Stephan of Harring’s Town, it’s Eddie and the rest of the D&D loving nerds learning the depths of Steve. Also I love tagging people but for my sanity I’m going to have to top it at 20. So I only have 6 more slots.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The unfortunate thing was that actual police work took time, and between Eddie running interference for Steve and Dustin, and Wayne doing what he could to keep Clint Harrington off the scent, it still gave Steve cabin fever.

“At least in my car, I was constantly moving,” Steve grumbled as Eddie got ready for another D&D session.

“You know I can’t bring you,” Eddie replied from the floor where he was sorting through his notes. “Ted Wheeler would squeal on your ass so fast.”

Steve groaned and threw his head back on the bed. His ribs had almost healed and the bruises had faded. And now that he was getting actual sleep at night he was becoming restless.

“Read or something,” Eddie murmured.

Steve looked over at the small bookshelf in the corner warily. “It’s all fantasy, though.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Eddie asked, looking up at him sharply.

“Isn’t it all princesses and dragons and fairy tale stuff?” Steve asked.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “No. I don’t know what fantasy you’ve read, but you are reading the wrong stuff, man.”

He stretched out, leaning up on his knees to reach a book off the shelf. Steve bit his lip and forced himself to look at anything but the long line of Eddie’s body, his shirt riding up to show a sliver of his taut belly.

Eddie sat back down and Steve could breath again.

“Here, start with this one,” he said, handing it over.

Steve took the book and turned it over. “The Hobbit?”

“Yup!” Eddie said. “It short, it’s got a great story, and it’s one of the best fantasy out there.”

Steve frowned appreciatively. “Yeah, I’ll give it a go.”

Eddie stood up with a bounce. “I’ve got to go, I’ll catch you later. Wayne’s got the late shift, so you’ll have the place to yourself for a bit, depending on how late we run tonight.”

Steve nodded, already cracking open the book to start.

Eddie grinned and hurried out to his van. A van that was running much better now that Steve had looked it over. With any luck, the piece of shit would keep running long enough for Eddie to replace it.

He made over the to the Wheelers, their summer time host for the Hellfire Club. They were the only ones that had a basement big enough for the three campaigns that were being run to gather at the same time.

He had barely sat down when there was a ruckus upstairs followed by a very angry Clint Harrington stomping down the stairs.

Dustin hid behind Lucas, who just eyed him confused, but let him hide anyway.

“Where is my son!” Clint bellowed. “I know he plays this devil game! You bring him out to me this instant!”

Eddie stands up and if it had been quiet before, now it was deafeningly silent. Everyone in that room had seen Eddie at the top of his game standing on tables in lunchrooms.

“Mr Harrington I presume,” he began with a mocking bow.

“You’re that Munson kid, right?” Clint said, turning on Eddie.

“In the flesh,” Eddie said, smile slowly spreading over his features. “Your son isn’t here. King Steve wouldn’t deign to mix with the likes of us.”

Dustin glared around Lucas, but Eddie winked. He ducked back behind the tall basketball player.

“Don’t you lie to me!” Clint roared. “I’ve seen the magazine!”

“And it had his name on and everything?” Eddie asked calmly, tilting his head and eyeing the man sidelong.

“It doesn’t have to!” Clint snarled. “He could have picked up at any store.”

“Or it could have been left there by any of his friends,” Eddie pointed out. “Speaking of which, Mr Harrington, who are Steve’s friends?”

“You think I don’t know who my son hangs out with?” Clint bit out.

“You thought he was playing D&D without you knowing...” Eddie said reasonably.

Clint snarled and turned on his heel, stomping back up the stairs in a fury.

Karen came down and apologized to them all. “I don’t know where he got the idea Steve was into D&D.”

But everyone knew that it was Ted that had told Clint about them holding D&D here.

“It’s fine, Mrs Wheeler,” Eddie said with soft smile. “Just some asshole wanting to rage at something.”

Karen pressed her lips together, but merely nodded before heading back upstairs.

Once she was gone Dustin came running up to Eddie.

“That was my magazine!” he cried. “I did this to Steve!”

Eddie grabbed his face and said, “No you didn’t. Mr Harrington has been hurting Steve for a long time. If it wasn’t the magazine, it would have been something else. You hear me? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

And that’s when the entire Hellfire Club erupted.

Everyone was firing questions at Eddie and Dustin.

“Calm down everyone!” Eddie shouted over the din. Once everyone had quieted he said. “Look, his dad beat the shit out of Steve, but he was able to get away. He is fine, just laying low so his dad doesn’t find him. And things are being done to make sure his dad never hurts him again.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell us?” Will asked. “It’s been two weeks. We were really worried about him.”

“Because the more people who knew what happened,” Dustin said, “the more he would be in danger.”

Everyone turned to Dustin.

“Who else knows?” Lucas asked.

“Just me and Dustin,” Eddie said. “And I only know because I could stash Steve where he wouldn’t be found by his dad.”

There was some muttering, but everyone seemed to agree it was the best course of action.

“Come on, guys,” Mike said. “Let’s start playing.”

“I’m not sure I’m in the mood,” Jeff murmured.

Eddie shook his head. “To hell with that. We’re going to play to show that asshole that he doesn’t get dictate what we find fun.”

There was some grumbling and it seemed like Mr Harrington was going to win when Erica spoke up.

“Hey, Eddie, can we name the evil wizard Hint Clarrington?”

Eddie burst out laughing. “Hell yeah we can!”

That got everyone else laughing and in the mood to play again.

Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue

Tag List: @yikes-a-bee @satan-is-obsessed @silversnaffles @marvelousforlife @goblin-eddie @moonage-daydreaming  @knightofthieves @homohomohoe  @books-are-my-life-since-1996 @yearningagain @sadcanadianwinter @steve-the-hairrington @flusteredcas @swimmingbirdrunningrock

[munsonkitten]

excerpt from ch9 of you make me feel like i am whole again on AO3

It’s only a couple days until Christmas and Eddie doesn’t have anything for anyone. Wayne doesn’t expect anything, but Eddie still tries every year to get him a mug or a hat to add to his collections. It’s easy stuff, but Eddie’s terrified of going out now.

He feels like he’s gained twenty pounds in the last week, which he knows isn’t true, but he still feels that way. Everything he tries, he’s too aware of the bump beneath his clothes, and Steve’s stopped telling him it isn’t noticeable.

It’s during his panic about gifts when Jeff calls. Jeff, who is home from school on winter break and wants to get the band together like old times, who wants to practice and maybe see if they can get a show at the Hideout some night, and Eddie… Eddie accepts.

Like a fucking idiot.

So now he’s still panicking about gifts, but he’s even more panicked as he shuts his guitar in her case and changes his shirt six times, and then his pants. He puts on a pair of Steve’s in the end, just barely fitting because Eddie’s filling out all the space Steve’s ass usually takes up, and —

And that’s how Steve finds him.

“Are you going somewhere?”

Steve’s standing there in Eddie’s bedroom doorway with his Family Video vest draped over one arm and a paper bag held in the other.

“Band practice,” Eddie squeaks, covering his face with his hands because he has no idea why he agreed to it in the first place. “I’m freaking out, man.”

“Weren’t you going to tell them, anyway?” Steve asks.

He crosses the room and sets the paper bag down on Eddie’s desk. He digs in it for a second before pulling out what appears to be black denim. He pulls the tag off and tosses it toward Eddie.

A new pair of jeans.

Eddie could cry.

He goes over and kisses Steve, dropping the jeans to the floor so he can wrap his arms around his neck. Steve’s arms circle around his waist and pull him in close. They hold each other for a second because even this small gesture reminds Eddie how much he loves Steve.

“Will you come with me?” Eddie asks.

“Of course,” Steve whispers, pressing another kiss to Eddie’s lips.

And just like that, Eddie isn’t so panicked anymore. Because Steve is going to be there, and his band already knows he’s gay, so maybe they’ll be okay with the rest of it, and it’ll all be fine.

“I got some things,” Steve says, dropping his arms away from Eddie’s waist and stepping away.

He goes back to the bag on the desk and starts pulling things out of it.

A mug. He passes it over to Eddie, who reads it as Steve talks.

“I know, uh,” Steve says. “The baby isn’t here yet, but I mean, it’s Christmas soon, and I figure, you know, might as well just get it now, and—”

Eddie does start crying, then, because Steve got Wayne a World’s Best Grandpa mug and he’s so fucking emotional these days it’s not even funny, so who can really blame him for the waterworks right now.

Steve wipes Eddie’s tears away with gentle thumbs on his cheeks.

“Is it okay?” Steve asks softly.

Eddie sniffles and nods. “He’ll love it.”

Read on AO3

[thefailedabortioon]

The string that holds us together || Byler

WARNINGS: internalized homophobia

short summary: where mike finally spills the beans. and meanwhile on an ordinary night in november, two boys depart in a garage

requests are open!!

a/n: hai another flickergate fic to add onto the other 18 already existing fics. ^_^

heres the link to the og tumblr post (well, i think its the og post 😭) anyways i’ll stop yapping enjoy!

Will Byers had finally made a fascinating discovery; Mike Wheeler was an asshole.

Honestly, he didn’t know why he defended the guy for so, so long. Mike treated him like shit, why would Will feel like he should be the one begging for forgiveness to him?

Like, take for example, he didn’t even bother apologizing to Will after their argument in the rain. After he’d lost Will again when he biked away. The rain drowning his tears rolling down his red cheeks away. Even after he and Lucas had found him near Castle Byers destroyed by Will’s own hands, his lips never uttered a singular “Sorry.” Oh, but him and El? Those two made up quick. Next thing Will knew, Mike was professing his love for her and how he “couldn’t lose her again!” Has he ever said that about Will? His own best friend?

Or maybe, how Mike probably never even dared to pick up a pen and start inking down a letter for Will. He could write down El letters no problem. Hell, he could write her an entire book! But to Will? Someone he’s known since he was six years old! He couldn’t even call? Then, of course, to make up for the no contact, he decided to give Will the most half-assed hug to ever exist at that airport.

Or how about when he forgot his birthday. March 22nd. His best friend. Someone who Will considered the most special person he’s ever met. Someone who Will wants to spend the rest of his life with, forgets his own birthday. Who the hell does that? I mean, what? They’ve friends for seven- eight years?!

But right now, right now he has to pretend none of that ever even happened. He has to shrug all of that away. Pretend his heart wouldn’t ache at how he was slowly losing his once best friend.

Because some shit is more important than how his old tight-knit relationship with Mike is literally hanging on by a thread at this point. Like how they needed to save the world. Again.

The Upside Down was dark. And cold. It didn’t look like it changed at all, but even so, a chill ran through Will’s back with every step they took in this twisted dimension. Then somehow, by some Satan-blessed miracle, he got lost with the last person he wanted to be with; Michael Wheeler. Just peachy.

“I-I’m just saying, it’s a fucking wonder how Steve Harrington managed to survive in this shithole for so long, you know? Like- My sister, she’s a fucking badass, right? And Eddie, that guy’s got survival instincts, he could thrive in an apocalypse for years. And that uh- what’s her name- Robin? Yeah, she’s- she’s cool. But Steve? The same guy who got absolutely shitfaced by your brother?” Mike scoffed.

“Uh-huh.” Will was only partially listening, trying to keep up behind Mike and his weirdly long legs.

They were navigating themselves towards the Wheeler’s house, but it’s literally (and figuratively) hell trying to look for it in the Upside Down’s dark atmosphere and clouded skies. The only thing lighting their ways was the bolts of lightning that would occasionally crack and thunder in the crimson red sky. Oh, and the continuous flickering of the streetlights.

Mike continued to ramble on, wanting to at least make small-talk, Will knew that this was just another way to try and cope with the fact they had gotten themselves lost in a completely different dimension. Another way to try and convince himself that everything will be fine. Will knew too well.

As they neared the neighborhood, a vine cracked around the two.

“Mike, shut up.” Will raised his shotgun, cocking it, the latter only nervously chuckled before gripping his pistol.

An eerie quiet fell between the two, it was suspenseful. Anxiety struck Mike between his ribs after every second that passed by that the silence didn’t break.

A loud screech played from the distance, and the two let out a deep sigh. “Holy crap.” Will exclaimed, lowering his gun on the ground. He sat down and brought his knees up to his chest, holding his head in his hands.

Mike’s breathing was all over the place, his heart was racing. (Because of his anxiousness. Not at all because of the way Will looked holding that gun.) Whatever that thing was hadn’t even attacked them, yet he was a rattling mess. To be fair, it is his first time in this hellhole.

“Are you okay?” Mike finally spoke, still trying to catch his breath.

“Fine.” Will swallowed a lump in his throat, “Let’s get going.”

Mike nodded, holding his hand out for Will to hold. Surprisingly, he didn’t refuse it, using it to get back on his feet. “Yeah, let’s go.” And just for a split second, Mike had given Will that look again. Where he just looks so mesmerized and smitten. As if Will had hung the stars in his dark horizon. It didn’t last for any longer than just a split second.

After a while of walking, they finally reached the Wheeler’s residence. Where everything happened. The house where Mike himself couldn’t even call it home. “Come on, follow me. I’ll lead you there.”

“I’ve been to your house a thousand times, Mike. I know where your garage is.” He wouldn’t let Mike see it, but in the faintest of all smiles, was a grin plastered on Will’s lips.

“Yeah, but it’s dark.” Mike retorted.

No shit, Sherlock! Was what Will wanted to say, bitterly. But he kept his mouth shut for the rest of the time. “Fuck. It’s locked.”

“Great.” He sighed, “Could you lead me to the keys as well?”

Mike hesitated to answer, as if he was debating if Will was being sarcastic or not, “It’s gotta be here somewhere.” He finally replied, pushing himself between Will and the door.

The two split up, despite how dim it was, Will at least had common sense. So he started to look for bowls that could hold the keys. Maybe they were hooked against the front door? He continued searching, flashing his light on for the darker areas of the house, such as the basement.

“Will!” Mike called out, running back to where he left him. “Found the keys!” He beamed, and Will literally felt his heart skip a beat at how much he missed seeing that smile.

“Don’t shout so loud! Remember, if any other creature hears you, so can Vecna.”

“Right. Sorry. Hive-mind.” He swung the keys around before twisting it in the door. “Open sesame.”

Will snorted, trying to keep his guard up for anything that could lunge at the them at any second. He shone his flashlight against the shelves on the wall. “Mike, crowbar.” With no question, Mike ran over and took it from the toolbox.

He stuffed it inside his backpack along with his other materials. As he tried to make it fit, a pair of longing eyes bore into the back of his head.

Will grimaced, when did they get so distant? Physically, they were close. But emotionally, it feels like he doesn’t even know him anymore. As if they haven’t known each other since kindergarten. As if he hadn’t replied ‘yes’ to him that day on the swings. It’s felt like eons since they last had a conversation without a thick cloud of awkwardness floating above them.

If El had never came along would their relationship remain the same? But then again, if she had never saved him, there would be no relationship at all. Will used to be so confused why he had so much hope in Michael Wheeler, but these past few years made him understand why. It’s just so hard to say it out loud and a guilt would rise in his throat every time he thought about it.

“Mike?”

His friend perked up at him, “Yeah?”

“Are we… still friends?”

“What?” Mike scoffed, confused.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” He paused, thinking it over. Were they? “You don’t- You don’t think of me as your friend anymore?” He asked, voice faltering in worry.

“No! No, I- I just..”

“What?”

“I dunno… we were just so close. But it feels like there’s this huge gap between the two of us now.”

“I…”

“It feels like you’ve been pushing me away.” Will finished, his brows furrowing.

“I’m not pushing you away.” The tallest out of the two stated, Mike looked dejected, like he was trying to convince himself of that more than Will, who broke through his lies easier than everyone else. Because Mike always kept his walls thin and easier to break whenever it was Will. Because it was him, and not anybody else.

“Then why does it feel like I can’t even say anything to you anymore?! Like, you just turned into everyone else? You didn’t even-“ Will cut himself off, tears burning the back of his eyes. He took a deep breath, wiping his hands on his pants.

Mike’s chest tightened, has he been neglecting Will? All this time? Something inside of him wanted to beat himself up for letting his friend- best friend deal with everything, his own inner conflicts all by himself.

Will let out a laugh, though there was no humor behind it. It was dry, flat. “Couldn’t even call?”

“What- What do you mean!?” He stuttered, “I did call, Will! I tried! But you never picked up! You’re acting as if you haven’t been pushing me away as well! Ever since- Ever since I arrived in Lenora you’ve been weird—“

“Weird? Really? Really, Mike?! I’ve been the one acting weird?”

“Yeah! Just-“ Mike sighed, “You know what? Forget it. It’s stupid.” Mike threw his hands in the air, trying to mediate the situation yet failing miserably. He grabbed a bike, removing its brakes, twisting the handles in his palm.

He wanted the fighting to just stop altogether. He couldn’t face Will. He couldn’t face the effects of the conflicts he caused. Because if he did, then everything would crumble. The Earth would crack and break in two while he tried to balance himself on both sides above the split made. And eventually, he’d fall. And fall endlessly into the scars of his mistakes. The scars that run deep into his veins, his soul. Everything hurts.

“No. No, Mike, you can’t keep doing this to me. You’re- you’re doing it again! You’re pushing me away! You’re shutting me out!”

“I’m not! Please, can we just stop?! This is meaningless okay? Where are you even going with this?! You want me to say sorry? Apologize?“

Will didn’t move or say anything, his brows furrowing further, his mouth pulled into a deep frown.

“Then I’m sorry, Will. I’m sorry! I’m really fucking sorry. I’ve been a selfish dickhead and I’ve just been scared. Okay?! So fucking scared.” He screamed, panicked. The first tear that dropped fell from Mike. The waves hit the walls hard, and it was as if a dam had finally broke. He finally broke. “I didn’t want to see- acknowledge you, I couldn’t even stand looking at you anymore! Because something in me would ache, like- like something burning in my fucking soul! And it hurts, Will. It hurts so much. And I’ve felt so guilty for everything that I just… I thought the best solution was to just push everyone away! Push you away…” His voice cracked at the end, tears falling endlessly against his rose tinted cheeks.

He huffed out a breath, “I’ve been going crazy because of it. And I just… I don’t want to keep lying to you anymore. Wasn’t that our number one rule? ‘Friends don’t lie.’ If- If you could even consider me as your friend anymore.” Mike wiped his tears away, ridding the blurriness in his eyes keeping him from seeing his best friend.

Will stood before him, mouth agape. He didn’t realize it, but at some point, he’d started crying as well. Everything, every word Mike said, it felt like boulders finally crashing down from Will’s shoulders, freeing him from the weight of his guilt.

“Mike…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, sorry, Will. I shouldn’t have said anyth-“

“Stop apologizing for one fucking second, Mike!” Will cut him off.

And there was this moment. A beat.

Then without any thought or reason, driven by pure impulse, Will threw himself against Mike, colliding their mouths together. His lips were soft, and wet. Will had waited for this for so, so long, it became maddening and impossible for him to stop himself from lunging towards his best friend, his crush for basically nine years, the love of his fucking life. Will kept his hand against the low of Mike’s back, the other cupping his cheek. His thoughts scrambled, unable to make one coherent thought because he was kissing Michael Wheeler , (who he once thought was as straight as a ruler, but he’s been wrong about a lot of things.) Kissing Mike was like finally letting go of all the suppressed tension bottling inside of his stomach. Kissing Mike was freeing his soul from the chains of his insecurity and hopelessness. Kissing Mike felt so fucking good.

Fireworks exploded in Mike’s head when he finally got to taste Will Byers, or maybe that was just lightning thundering behind them. The piece of string that wouldn’t stop pulling at his heart had let go. And all the yearning, and hoping, and wishing came true. Everything became so confusing, he hadn’t imagined Will to even look at him with that same look of longing he’d always give him. And so God help him, if this was another cruel trick by Vecna, he’d rather just get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid. He grabbed Will’s hands, intertwining them into his own.

Will finally pulled away, lips pink. Sometimes he wished human beings didn’t need oxygen to live, because then he could kiss Mike for longer than eternity. “If you’re… going crazy, then we’ll go crazy together. Okay?” He said firmly.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Crazy together.”

Will tittered, “Asshole.” He held his best friend close, not wanting to let go.

A loud buzz rung above the two, the light in the Wheeler’s garage started to glow. And faintly, you could hear an echo of a voice from the other side.

—

Meanwhile, on a seemingly ordinary day in November, were two boys giving their final goodbyes to each other for the night.

“It was a seven.”

The other turned.

“The roll, it was a seven. The demogorgon, it got me.”

“Oh.”

“See you tomorrow!”

As Will biked away, a flicker of the ceiling light buzzed in the garage.

[wroteclassicaly]

i hope im not too late for the kink hour! 🫣 but skirt kink has been in my mind lately; either of the boys would love love love to see you in a short skirt that lends itself to some handsy flirting 😏

Ooooh, okay, so I love this ^_^ Thanks for sending it in!

Warnings: Language, mentions of masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral sex (female receiving), and more!

~*~

You’d all been friends a long time, but Eddie and Steve had started fooling around almost immediately after they bonded. Eddie wasn’t exactly shy about hiding how he continuously drooled over the former jock, often gossiping with you about how you’d both got off to not so friendly thoughts of Steve Harrington. However, Eddie got to him first, Steve reciprocating—suavely charming the metal head. They haven’t really labeled anything, both still pining after one more missing piece (you). You’d had to reign in your jealousy and nurse your sore wrist from the tension in the tendons, following the times you’d hung out with them and couldn’t wait to climb back beneath your sheets at home.

Today is different, though. You’re in your new cherry red leather skirt, fishnets tight over your thighs, and boots on your feet, with some lace crop top hugging (whatever your body type is <3) your figure. Nancy, you and Robin had went to get your nails and hair done for the Hallows Eve party in just a few hours, deciding to stop by the Family Video for some candy and videos to watch later in the night. None of you favored staying out too late and the parties around here were boring anymore. When you’d walked in between the two girls Steve had dropped all of his tapes on the floor and Eddie slipped on one, the cigarette he wasn’t supposed to be smoking in the store— catching in the carpet and burning a hole through the cheap threads. Once everyone’s laughter (you, Robin & Nance’s) had subsided, you three went into raiding the candy rack, stuffing Nancy’s big purse full.

But neither boy had stopped staring at you, whispering between the confines of their hair care product fumes and colognes. They also had zero plans tonight, but to get a little drunk at Eddie’s place after a small bonfire near Skull Rock. Though you suspect they’re headed there to make out (something you totally won’t be thinking about during the lame ass party). You’ve just gotten a pack of Razzles in your palm, shaking the candy from side to side, when Eddie is asking you something that makes your eyes roll beneath the smoky shadow.

“By the way, Y/N, what are you supposed to be going as?”

Steve, with his hand on his hip and a brow raised, smirks. You want to wipe it off with your mouth, but you’ll settle for some sass instead. Shifting on your work combat boots, you jut a hip out, tossing the Razzles behind you to an intercepting Robin, who hands them off to the stockpile Nancy’s organizing in her oversized bag.

Without missing a beat, you make sure they both know you’re simultaneously addressing them, and then it’s off your red stained mouth. “Your one night stand.”

You can hear Nancy snicker behind you, Robin coughing into her fist, with a ‘holy shit.’ And the guys’ expressions? Christmas has flown in early. You have to turn and bite on your painted lip, your two girlfriends sharing a mental high five with you. That’s the exact moment you see Nancy get one of those looks. The one that tells you she’s got a plan circulating around in that head of hers.

Before you can question it, she’s slapping a ten dollar bill on the counter, telling Steve to keep the change, and she’s pulling Robin towards the door, halting you as you attempt to follow, confused and slightly irritated. “Nance? What the fuck?” You warn.

“You don’t like parties anyway, right? And I was thinking me and Robs had this thing we were gonna go check out, instead—“

“We did?” Robin is more confused than you, receiving a slightly shoulder bump from Nance. “Ow! Okay, we did!”

“And why can’t I come? Or is it just the Nancy and Robin show now?” You cross you arms, tired of third wheeling different scenarios (oh, you are so not thinking of the two men to your left, still attempting to process your words).

Nancy shakes her head and backs completely out of the door with Robin in tow, that bell ringing and making your palms begin to sweat. You’ll be alone here, with no plans and no ride home. Her plan. Sometimes, you wished she were still into Steve. “Make it work!” She calls out, winking at you.

The silence that follows is sickening. It’s you and the combination of the only two guys you’ve ever really felt much of anything (everything) for. And you’re wearing something that’s so unlike you, you could be mistaken for a slutty clone. You sigh, folding your arms on the counter and using one hand to dig into your small clutch for cab money. Steve is objecting immediately, seemingly insulted.

“You know she meant for me to drive you home, right?”

Your patience thins and the band snaps. “No fucking shit, Harrington! She had to completely deviate from our plans in favor of her own, embarrass me—“

“Why would you be embarrassed? We’re all friends, aren’t we?” Eddie is baiting you, those large chocolate eyes making you feel zoned in on and small, but in ways that keep you grounded, held.

“Some of us…” You mutter, swallowing on the rush of a sudden anxiety spike.

They look at one another in knowing communication. You pretend you don’t notice, looking at your new nails.

“You’re awfully quiet, sweetheart. Cat got your tongue?” Eddie is getting closer and you turn around to avoid it, but he slides in behind you, arms on either side of your body, knuckles pressed on the counter that you’re leaning on, his chin dropping onto your shoulder. “Talk to me. M’ not gonna judge, you know that.”

“To us.” Steve comes around the counter so that he’s directly in front of you and Eddie, tilting over it on folded arms.

Fuck. You’re directly between them, caught.

“It’s just… I got into this stupid ass outfit and now I’m not going anywhere but home. It was all a waste of time.” And that’s not a complete lie. You’ve just left out the part that you wanted them to go crazy in seeing you dressed up, in comparison to your usual getup of jeans and t-shirts.

“Nance didn’t think so.” Steve tries.

“Yeah, well, who cares what she thought.” You snap, trying to shake off Eddie’s hold. He doesn’t budge.

“Do you care what we think?” It’s Steve’s voice again, his thumb reaching out to brush along your jaw.

You immediately jolt into the contact, hips pushing back against Eddie’s crotch without meaning to. He stiffens, groaning, tone muffled in your shoulder, almost a plea. “Man…”

You’re tired, so very exhausted. Lifting your gaze to Steve’s, you nod. “And what if I do? What if I tell you that it’s all for you guys? That what I’m wearing underneath was especially bought with you two in mind…?”

Eddie’s lifting himself from your neck, eyes rapidly darting between you and Steve. “Fuck, for real?”

“Don’t act like we didn’t talk about getting ourselves off when we thought about Steve. Except you can actually do stuff with him now.” You’re being entirely transparent, breaking free of his grip.

“You… you guys masturbated thinking about me?” Steve’s freckle dotted throat constricts around a gulp.

“I masturbate thinking about both of you.” You confess, chewing on your lower lip, arms crossed so that you can caress your own flesh in comfort.

“As in… present tense?” Eddie verbalizes. Steve is already retreating from his place around the counter, finding your personal space with a brisk invasion.

His big hand hovers over the side of your fish net covered thigh. “Can I feel you a little bit, honey?”

You don’t have to ask why, Eddie cutting off your remaining doubts, finding your left side. “We talk about you every time we fuck, Y/N. You’re there even when you’re… not.”

He brushes a back handed stroke with his rings over your collarbone, their metal cooling your skin. Steve scratches along the fabric stapled to your thighs. “Pretty. Like a present that’s begging to be unwrapped.”

“Fuck, guys. Don’t you have plans tonight?” It’s a lame question on your oblivious end, but it makes Steve snort and Eddie grin.

“Plans with an additional person. One that we’re definitely gonna have to keep warm in the woods tonight.”

They close in on you and you’re entirely fucked. You’ll have to thank Nancy later.

~*~

The firelight glitters in the background, staving off Autumn’s biting night breeze. It’s beautiful and serene, noises identified only by the singular panting breaths of three people caught in pleasure. They took you along with them after Steve closed down the store.

Eddie made good on his promise to keep you warm, but you suspect it was a way to also see you with half your costume on. Your boots and fishnets are on top of your shirt and jacket, your underwear beside them. A blanket is underneath your feet to give them comfort. Your skirt is bunched around your waist, and your silk black bra pulled down to expose your breasts. Steve is on his knees in front of you, his mouth working in delicate slurps that drag you onto your tip toes with each stroke, pushing you back into Eddie, who has one finger deep in your cunt, working in tandem with Steve’s tongue.

You’re on the cusp of a sweet death and headed to hell on Halloween.

[gravedigginbbydoll]

His Best Girl

Eddie Munson x Latina! OC

AN: Hi. So this lil blurb is very personal to me and my own experiences (and a few of those of loved ones) as the daughter of a latina immigrant. This is heavily based on Your Best American Girl by Mitski. Also I'm sorry for making Steve an ass at the beginning, I just think pre-upside down and Nancy, he was a bit misguided. And to all my immigrant daughters out there: please know that you are not out of place or just pieces and not a whole. You are a human with multiple facets and pieces and parts to make up something amazing. Anyways, like and reblog if you enjoy as per usual. Love y'all ❤️

CW: Xenophobia, stereotypes, internalized xenophobia and anti-latinidad, pressure of fitting in, strenuous relationship with mother, toxic motherly relationship at times, anxiety, bullying. Fear of not being accepted, etc. Mentions of food. Slightly suggestive thoughts.

I stuck out like a sore thumb in Hawkins. It didn't matter that we had lived there for longer than Billy Hargrove, we got more sneers than he ever did. Teased for lunches homemade by my mother, now rotting in a garbage can behind school. Teased for the poncho I wore in grade school, chubby cheeks wet with tears as I sobbed over the laughter. Teased for my mother’s pronunciation of words like Illinois, too many syllables crowded into her mouth for the english language. 

It didn’t matter how far I distanced myself. I stopped speaking my mother’s native tongue, pushing down the hurt I saw in her eyes that now her own daughter was pitted against her. I stayed silent at my father’s snide comments about her heritage and pretended to be busy when her family called. I tried to get involved in cheerleading and dance, trying to show that I too could be part of the American Dream. Yet still, like a birthmark unable to be scrubbed away, Hawkins remembered me as a stranger. 

It seemed like the effort finally paid off when Steve Harrington got interested in me. I wasn’t ugly, but I wasn't Molly Ringwall. He flirted with me after basketball practice, messing with my scrunchy, stealing my pom poms. I felt my heart soar. I’d finally made it. I’d finally been made a resident in my own community. When he finally asked me out, I felt my chest burst with pride, my sense of belonging almost fulfilled. Yes, my home was tense and sad. But now I could exist outside our little bubble without fear of being ostracized. 

Then came the roadblocks. 

Steve liked my hair straight, down and perfected with hairspray. Liked me clean shaven and bare. Wanted me to do makeup like Carol, simple. Wanted me dressed in pinks and perfect baby blues, the style as All-American and feminine as possible. Wanted me to stop carrying around the small rosary and evil eye bracelet I’d hidden from the rest of the world. I obliged, sugary smiles and gut wrenching nerves, just wanting to stay enough, be enough. 

Then it went deeper. Steve wanted to hear me speak Spanish in private, words hushed and filthy, pushing limits I knew I’d be thinking of later in confession. But in public, he only wanted English, urged me to take French at school instead. He never asked to meet my mother, who had showered me in affection despite my cold shoulder. Who only spoke in proud words over me on the phone whether it be about my latest test, my excelling in dance classes, or just my part on the cheer team. And as we went further, he’d scrutinize little things, like the way I looked, the little superstitions I picked up from my mother, the small bits and pieces of her folded into me. 

It all bubbled over the night I met his family. He warned me that they were tough but his mother was sweet. I sat, makeup perfect, smile shining, and careful to seem like the picture perfect girl they’d approve of. I nibbled at the meal his mother prepared, my heart longing for the familiar comfort of my mamá’s cooking wafting in the kitchen, the laughter in the kitchen as she made milanesa or empanadas. Steve’s mother’s cooking felt cold, lifeless. The casserole was lightly salted, and the energy at the table stale and somehow tense all at once. 

“So, what’s your mother do? Stay at home?,” Steve’s father asked nonchalantly. 

I felt my stomach sink. Wealthy mothers in Hawkins didn’t work. They stayed home while their husbands hopped around their business meetings and towns nearby. My smile faltered, but I decided to be honest. After all, they’d know sooner or later. 

“No, sir. She works at an Italian restaurant downtown.” 

“Well, I suppose Italian isn’t all that different from speaking Spanish,” He offered, shrugging. 

My stomach sank to the floor, my heart squeezed. Something about his inflection, something about his writing off my mother speaking English, stirred something in me. 

Steve stayed silent, his eyes begging me to let it go. 

“My mamá speaks English, sir. As well as Spanish,” My voice shook softly, my hands clenched under the table. 

“Ah, okay. Wasn’t sure. Seems a lot of Hispanics nowadays can’t just try to learn the language when they come into our country, for god's sake. But I should have known. You’re such a…well-adjusted girl.” 

I felt the small thread holding together my façade crack. I breathed in, trying to stop myself from screaming. How could such wealthy and lucky people be so small minded? I gritted my teeth. 

“English is surprisingly a hard language. My mother still struggles with it even after living here longer than she did in her home country.” 

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Well, I’m not struggling. Just don’t understand why they can’t come here and assimilate. I mean, when Steve told us he was dating an ethnic girl, I questioned-” 

Steve paled at the mention of this, turning to me and trying to explain himself through his eyes but staying silent. 

I held up a hand, trying to keep my composure, my words cold and my anger boiling. “We try. Plenty. We try to squeeze into your boxes and norms and bend to your will and it’s never good enough. I still get notes taped to my back that say ‘river crossing’ or slurs that aren’t even correct for my heritage. I still get called ‘gorilla arms’ despite waxing and shaving daily since 6th grade. I get spit on daily and if I even look at some of the people in this town, I worry one day that I’ll be dead in a ditch. And I’m one of the lucky ones. My father is American, and I am fairly pale. I was born two towns over, for christ’s sake. I am just as American as you. My mother and any latino who steps foot in this country deserves to be here as much as you, if not more.” 

I felt my hands shake and my cheeks wet as I wiped at them, the mascara I had been wearing smearing a streaky black as I stood, brushing my hands off on my dress, my heart feeling freed, my chest tempted to break open to allow me to let go more. 

“Now if you excuse me, I must go home.” 

I turned and walked out, leaving behind the big house full of dreams of all-star American athletes and nuclear households, tired mothers and fathers obsessed with infidelity. Part of my heart hoped Steve would run after me, apologize, kiss my cheeks and promise to love all the pieces and intricacies of me, promise to stand up next time. 

But he never did. 

Steve never called back, stopped speaking to me after practice, stopped trying to squeeze himself into my life. Maybe it was me embracing the soft curls of my hair and not shaving day in and out. Maybe it was me wearing what I wanted and quitting cheer to join the newspaper, and finding more people who accepted me for myself. 

I won’t deny that it stung how he found Nancy Wheeler, perfectly American girl without any question. Straight A’s, beautiful, sweet, well-off family. I was happy for him. But I couldn’t deny that my chest stung with the idea that no matter what I did, I’d never be her. 

My mother and I started mending our relationship, and while it always had that complicated knot of trauma and things she wouldn’t discuss, it was better than the frayed edges I’d left. She still pushed me hard, she still was stubborn and said things that would sting for a lifetime. I still cried alone when we fought, guilt over her giving up a life and home to make one mine, and yet I still got upset when she would refuse to budge and claim I'd ‘regret saying these things when (she) was dead and gone.’ 

But I felt less like a broken piece of glass trying to fit into a puzzle. 

I met Eddie while eating lunch outside, still sensitive to classmates upturned noses and sniggering laughs behind their hands. I was at the bleachers, enjoying the fresh air and the empanadas I had reheated secretly in the front office. My mom had made the monthly trek to the latin supermarket to get ingredients and stock up on comforts. I was relishing in the flaky dough and savory inside when a voice startled me. 

“What is that smell?”

I felt shame and embarrassment sink into my bones, knowing some of the kids at Hawkins hated the smell of the food I brought from home, claiming it was ‘too weird’. I turned to look at the voice, feeling my voice caught in my throat at the sight. 

Eddie Munson. 

I recognized the outgoing and loud metalhead anywhere. He was what I tried to distance myself from for so many years, trying to squeeze into Hawkins small sect of acceptable behavior and praised individuals. He always scared me, his clear and blatant middle finger to the idea of blending in, his behavior and interests always villainized in this town. But I also respected him immensely and was almost envious that he could do that, not consumed by thoughts of others mistreating him. 

And yet now here he was, about to join the flock of Hawkins xenophobes, it seemed.

He scrambled to sit down next to me, his lean legs climbing over the seats easily as he sat by me. He had a pack of cigarettes in hand along with what seemed to be Twinkie. He smiled down on me, his wide grin causing my cheeks to heat quickly. Eddie was more attractive than the town of Hawkins gave him credit for, his smile dazzling and his eyes a warm brown. He white Reeboks rested against the bleachers in front of us as he leaned back on his hands, smiling over at me. His bangs came over his eyes a little with the wind, causing him to squint. 

“I’ll trade you one of whatever that delicious thing is for my Twinkie. I forgot to pack a lunch,” he joked, dimples popping out. 

I felt my hands clam up as I fidgeted nervously. 

“I mean, sure, but are you sure you’ll like-” 

“Princess, trust me. I love food. And that little doughy pocket you are currently munching on smells heavenly…Please?” 

I nodded, feeling my stomach twist with nerves as I handed him the food, smiling at him sheepishly. He took it with eager hands, his own nimble fingers brushing mine and swiftly handing me the slightly squashed Twinkie. 

“Sorry, it got a little beat up.” 

I shook my head, shrugging. I had pocketed the twinkie, instead focused on his face while he took an eager bite into the dough, his moan coming soon after, his eyes rolling back into his head, his head thrown back. 

I felt my skin heat up to blazing temperatures, my thighs squirming. 

Who knew Eddie Munson’s moans sounded so… sinful?

He turned to me after chewing and swallowing, his eyes sparkling with interest as he sat up and faced me, scooting closer to me. 

“You’ve got to tell me what that was. That was the best thing I’ve ever eaten. I need like fifty. Seriously. I’ll give you a free stash if you just bring me one like everyday.”

I laughed, my cheeks still heated and my heart squeezed at the excitement. 

He liked it. He didn’t laugh. He didn’t spit it out. 

“It’s an empanada. My mom makes them.” 

“Em-pan-ahd-a,” He sounded out, stumbling over his words a bit and then grinning at me, his dimples popping up. 

“Seriously though, I’ll pay you to get more of these.” 

Eddie and I formed a bond tighter than anyone I’d ever known. After that meeting, we’d exchanged names and he offered to bring me one sweet each day in exchange for half of my mother’s cooking. 

I was terrified at first, scared he’d turn away a dish or gag at the things she made. But as it turned out, that fear was short-lived. 

Eddie Munson scarfed down empanadas, milanesa, cassava, rice, and soup. He acted as if each meal was worthy of a restaurant, praising my mother's cooking over and over again. I watched with swelling pride as he asked about the dishes and ingredients, how to cook them, and what my favorites were. He took extra care to express his love for the dishes I had assisted with the night before, his sweet words imprinted on my heart like ink. 

We grew from that to more and more hanging out, me being an honorary member of Hellfire, and Corroded Coffin’s number 1 fan. I learned Eddie never got to learn how to ride a bike but could fix cars up pretty well due to working at an auto shop. I learned how Eddie sometimes would visit his dad at the jail but always came out of it bitter. I knew Eddie liked his eggs over medium, not scrambled (‘it looks like brains’), and how he had a tiny chip in his tooth from eating shit at a little league game when he was about 11 (‘I was never athletic, okay?’). And with each small piece of Eddie I got to know more and more, I felt a stronger tug at my heart. A pull to know all the parts of him, to familiarize myself with the calluses on his fingers and the dip in his collarbone. I wanted to consume all the pieces of him and feel our bones lock together. 

One night, I had invited him over to help my mamá and I cook dinner, her over the top doting and affection causing us both to have heated cheeks, his a bright red. She was showing him how to make milanesa, her fingers already coated in eggy breadcrumbs. He listened intently, still joking around and making her laugh. She doted on him despite my fear, affectionately reprimanding him for not wearing socks on the cold floor and having his hair a mess. We laughed and sang along to old traditional love songs wafting in from the record spinning in the living room, Eddie taking my hand and swaying with me in the kitchen. My mother looked over at me with warm eyes, her smile soft and sad. 

I never felt freer than that moment, all the small pieces that made me me visible to Eddie. He looked at me with warm and caring eyes, his smile soft but still bringing out his dimples. He liked me. He liked who I was. He didn’t mind that my mother had an accent or that she was overbearing sometimes, or that she burned palo santo to repel bad spirits and insects alike. He didn’t let Jason stick xenophobic notes to my back without a fight, and never made me feel like I needed to push down my heritage. 

After dinner, I helped my mother wash the dishes while she urged Eddie to talk with my Dad and tour our home. I stayed in the kitchen speaking in hushed tones in Spanish with her, feeling frustration bubble up at her listing of all of Eddie’s flaws. 

He’s too rebellious. 

Ya se, mamá. Pero-

He has too many tattoos.

Sí, pero-

His hair is too long. 

Mamá-

I had just about accepted defeat when she stayed silent for a beat before turning over to me.

“But does he make you happy, mijita? 

I felt my heart skip a bit and a glimmer of hope shine through as I nodded my head and her expression softened. She turned back to her plate that she was scrubbing, looking into the suds rather than me. 

“Good.” 

We sat out on my porch hours after that dinner, our pinkies brushing as we sipped on water, Eddie smoking a cigarette but careful to not let the smoke come my direction. We had slipped into a comfortable silence that was familiar to us. Eddie dropped the cigarette, stomping out the smoke before turning to me and smiling. 

“This was nice. I want more of this. More of us. What do you say, princesa? Be my girl?”

I felt my heart swell as my cheeks burned from my grin, my eyes watering over as I nodded enthusiastically. He pulled my hand closer to him with our connecting pinkies, interlacing the fingers and smiling as I answered. 

“Yes. Always.”

I was on a date with Eddie when I finally saw Steve again. I mean, I had seen him in the hallways in passing, his arm usually wrapped around Nancy. However, I’d heard a rumor that the two had broken up. Steve wasn’t as popular as before and seemed to stop hanging around his group of usual assholes that included Carol and Tommy. But I had never expected to see him at the local mall working at Scoops Ahoy, serving me and Eddie. 

Eddie had a protective arm wrapped around me, his expression guarded as he ordered some ice cream for the both of us. Eddie actively hated the mall, but this was the only place in town that really served ice cream and the two of us combined had a dangerous sweet tooth. He also was aware of me and Steve’s past, and our sour ending. He had soothed and comforted me when I felt afraid he would react the same way to my home and family. 

While Steve rang us up, his expression was pained, which would have been laughable in his uniform if I wasn’t still stung by his behavior. He looked up at me, his eyes sincere as he sighed, his expression guilty. 

“Look…I’m sorry I was such an ass while we were dating. I shouldn’t have let anyone talk to you like that. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that. I’m really sorry.” 

Eddie’s arm wrapped tighter around me, ready to defend me if needed, his gaze on my face. 

But strangely, I felt a sense of closure. A sense of forgiveness. I didn’t need approval from Steve or Hawkins or even Eddie. I could be all the little pieces of myself and my mother, all the parts of Midwest America and Latin America by myself. I deserved to be whole. 

“Thank you. I deserve to be myself and feel proud of where I come from. I appreciate that you know that now.” 

Eddie smiled softly down at me, kissing my forehead as his expression was filled with pride. He paid and tugged me away from the counter, his smile soft as he handed me my ice cream and held my hand with his free one, the other clutching his own. 

“Sweet treat for my favorite girl.” 

I smiled down at the cone, the phrase not lost on me.  Maybe I wasn’t the All-American Girl. But I was Eddie’s girl. And that was more than enough.