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#my baby indiana boys
fallen-starchild · 2 years
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get someone who looks at you like izzy looks at axl
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love my baby boys
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archangel-1 · 2 months
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Howdy ;)
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wintrwinchestr · 1 month
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strangers | part 1
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summary: following in the footsteps of a girl you once knew, you decide to up and leave home one morning without looking back. when you find yourself to be tired, hungry, and alone in the middle of nowhere, you're thankful when a kind stranger offers you a ride, a warm meal, and a place to sleep for the night. he only tells you about himself in bits and pieces, but he seems trustworthy enough, and what you don't know can't hurt you, right?
!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!
I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.
warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, talk of death/murder and blood, mommy & daddy issues, brief talk of domestic violence, lying/gaslighting, manipulation, f-receiving non-con somnophilia (no sex, but groping, fingering, dry humping, kissing, and choking), degrading language toward victims, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart), some joel pov, no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, takes place in illinois/ohio/indiana, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, this part is mostly introduction/storytelling/yapping, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags
word count: 9.8k
a/n: i started this as a oneshot way back in november, and then it sat abandoned for a very long time. thank you to my lovely friends @polaroidpascal and @chippedowlmug for encouraging me to finish it, and also bestie kiers who never hesitates to match my freak. also thank you to the many writers who made me feel inspired to write something dark and not give a fuck what people think about it. i hope you enjoy this joel he's a freak and i love him and if you say anything mean about him i'll send him after you <3
divider by @saradika
series masterlist/moodboard
read this chapter on ao3
part 2
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Ruby Carpenter.
You had spent all day trying to remember her name without really knowing why. Maybe it’s because as the sun sets on what would be the first day of your junior year at the nearby state school, you wonder if she ever made it to one of the fancy ivy leagues she had always aspired to attend. You wonder if she’s even still alive.
Ruby had disappeared a few years ago now, the summer after your senior year of high school. For nearly a year afterwards, her missing posters remained stapled onto every telephone pole and stuck onto every store window around town, until the paper began to disintegrate and the ink began to fade. In that time, you couldn’t even make a quick run to the grocery store without being confronted by dozens of replicas of her yearbook photo printed onto the sides of all the milk cartons. Despite all of the efforts to find her, including several search parties and a decent amount of statewide media coverage, everyone had just stopped looking for her, eventually. Even the police. Even her parents.
It was decided that she had probably just run away, and you can’t entirely blame her, but you can’t imagine why she would, either. You remember her perfect head of blonde ringlet curls that shone a yellow gold in the sun, and her bright blue eyes that turned fiery in her more passionate moments during classroom debates. She had every boy in your grade wrapped around her finger, was the teacher’s pet in every class, and it wasn’t even a question whether she would win prom queen your senior year. She was always sweet to you, always complimented your outfits or your makeup or your art projects with a genuine lilt in her voice and a kind smile, so you could never bring yourself to hate her even though it would’ve been so easy to. You figured she was going to cure cancer or become the president after you had all graduated, which is why you never really stopped wondering whatever happened to her that summer. She was beautiful, with boundless potential and a bright future ahead of her, why would she have just given it all up?
Everyone around town knew Ruby, or at least it seemed that way. But maybe nobody ever really knew her as well as they thought. Maybe she’d had a secret boyfriend all that time who whisked her away that summer, maybe she had decided to try drugs and fell down a rabbit hole that she couldn’t claw her way out of, maybe she had finally figured out that the only thing this town would ever be good for is holding people back. Maybe she did just wake up one day and decide to run without ever looking behind her.
Maybe you should do the same.
With your dad long gone now and your step-father doing a piss poor job of filling in the hole he left, following in Ruby’s footsteps has sounded like a better idea with each passing day. Rob isn’t even really your step-father, anyway, just your mom’s sorry fucking excuse for a boyfriend. The guy’s already been married upwards of three times before, why try for another one? He’s a lazy son of a bitch who can’t hold down a job at a fast food joint for more than a couple of weeks at a time, who sleeps every second of the day that he’s not chugging through a six pack, and who leaves marks on your mother uglier than his fucking face. 
She doesn’t deserve to be treated that way, of course, but it’s not like she’s winning the “mom of the year” award any time soon, either. She’s never even been nominated. She’s forgotten just about every one of your birthdays, been the reason you’ve never had any friends come over, and in her most recent offense, blew all the savings you had put away for your last two years of college. Which is why you’re not spending tonight celebrating being one year closer to at least having an official-looking piece of paper to show for yourself. Instead, you’re using the rattling of your bedroom window unit and the booming bass of your radio to drown out yet another drunken screaming match between your mother and the guy she lets live in your house now, watching the world outside pass you by and knowing that if you don’t do anything about it now, you’ll never make it out of here. You’re thinking about Ruby Carpenter, hoping she found somewhere greener and more promising and was able to make something of herself, far away from here. And you’re thinking that this rusted orange sunset is the last one you’ll ever see from your bedroom window.
It’s decided, then. You’re leaving, first thing tomorrow.
You’ve only gotten a few hours of sleep by the time your alarm clock chimes to life at five o’clock on the dot. You’re quick to silence the shrill beeping with a swift swat of your hand, careful not to wake anyone else in the house. The sun has just barely begun to stream in through the blinds of your bedroom window, but it illuminates the room just enough for your eyes to land on the backpack you had stuffed full of a few changes of clothes last night, waiting for you by the door. 
You don’t waste any time stripping off your pajamas and pulling on just about the only clothes left in your room that aren’t in your bag. You’ve got your teeth brushed, face washed, and hair tamed in all of about ten minutes, too anxious to spend even one more unnecessary second in this house. You swing your backpack over your shoulder, pull your bedroom door open at just the right speed so that the hinges don’t squeak too loud, and tiptoe delicately down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky floorboards that you know like the back of your hand—the one three steps from the top, the one at the landing about halfway down, and the very bottom one.
You land softly when you leap over that tattletale bottom step, successful in the most difficult part of your escape plan so far. Rob is passed out on the living room couch in typical fashion, his mouth full of crooked teeth hanging open as his grating snores permeate the calm morning air. He’s still got a death grip around an empty beer can, even in his sleep, and your mother will likely be the one to toss it into the trash for him, useless fucker that he is. You aren’t going to miss either of them, and you imagine they’ll just skip trying to replicate the first half of the aftermath of Ruby’s disappearance altogether—no posters, no search parties, no police. You’ll just be gone, one less mouth for your mother to feed. Though, you’d been mostly feeding yourself since you were tall enough to slide a couple of bills across the counter at the corner store down the street, anyway. You’re ready to disappear, the same as candle wax when it burns, the same as the end of a rainbow, the same as Ruby Carpenter.
You don’t bother looking back when you shut the door behind you, content to leave it all behind just as the sun begins to rise and set the sky ablaze. By the time it sets again tonight, you hope to be in a different county, in a different state, anywhere that isn’t here. The rest, you’ll just have to figure out when you get there, wherever “there” may be.
You had only realized about an hour ago that you’d forgotten your cheap digital watch in the drawer of your bedside table, where it’s laid unused for the past couple of months, because who needs to tell time during the summer? You never had anywhere to be, never had to get to class or turn in a paper by a certain time, so it’s just been collecting dust since you had unclipped it from your wrist on the last day of spring semester. It sure would have come in handy right about now, when you have no fucking clue what time it is. The sun had disappeared behind the hills several mile markers back, so it must be… eight o’clock? Ten o’clock? Fucking midnight? You have no idea. What you do know is that you’re exhausted, hungry, and your feet hurt like hell. You aren’t really sure what you expected, the reality only just now setting in that you don’t even have ten bucks to your name anymore, thanks to your narcissist of a mother. The crumpled up bills you do have in your pocket are hardly enough for a goddamn sandwich, let alone a motel room. The cool night breeze raises goosebumps on your skin, and you swear you can see your fucking breath, even in the middle of August. You wrap your arms around yourself just as tears begin to prick at your waterlines, and you let them fall as you collapse onto the scratchy patch of dead grass on the side of the freeway, not a park bench or a bus stop or even a gas station in sight for God knows how many more miles.
You sit cross-legged, elbows propped up on your knees so that your hands can support your weary head, the skin of your palms becoming slippery with salty tears as your crying just doesn’t seem to stop. The road you’ve found yourself on seems relatively low-trafficked, the heaving sounds of your sobs accompanied by more cricket chirps and rustling wheat than rumbling tires. But a few high beams do streak across your vision every once in a while, coloring the backs of your eyelids a flaming scarlet.
After several minutes, your tears seem to dry up on their own, your body likely too dehydrated now to produce any more. You wipe the moisture from under your eyes with the back of your hand, sniffling as you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip and debate if you should just turn back now, give up on your stupid little plan (or lack thereof) and just call the whole thing a loss, pretend it never even happened. Your mother and Rob won’t have even noticed you’d left.
Just as you pull yourself back up to your feet, set on at least finding somewhere that isn’t the hard ground to sleep on tonight before you make your way back home tomorrow, the warm headlights of an old pickup truck are shining bright in your eyes. You put your arm up to block them as the truck slowly squeals to a halt in front of where you’re standing, and you squint your eyes at the driver as your vision adjusts.
“You need a ride, sweetheart?” A man asks in a gravelly voice, and you can still hardly make out what he looks like. Based on the southern accent you pick up on, he doesn’t sound like he’s from around here. 
“N-no, thank you. I’m okay,” you respond shakily, taking a nervous step back from the stranger and his rusted pickup.
“You sure? Looked like you were cryin’ over here, like you might be lost or somethin’.”
“‘M not lost, I know where I’m going.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s that?”
Shit. 
You take a guess.
“Um… the motel down the road,” you reply, tilting your head in the direction you had been walking in.
“There ain’t a motel down there, sweetheart. Ain’t nothin’ in either direction for miles, ‘s all just farmland out here. Reckon you’ve already figured that out, though.”
You pause, unsure of what your next move should be. He knows you’re lying, knows you’re alone with no fucking idea where you are or where you’re going. You could run, but even that shitty truck of his could catch up to you in a matter of seconds. You take another step back, swiveling your head around to look up and down the road as you try to figure your best way out of this.
“Just lemme give you a ride somewhere, darlin’. There’s a diner just off the exit, ‘bout twenty miles up ahead. Could take you that far, at least, get you somethin’ to eat,” he offers. A warm meal does sound pretty good right now, and you suppose you aren’t exactly in a position to refuse his help.
You think on it for a second. “What’s it called? The diner.”
The stranger huffs. “Moody’s.”
“What do they have?” you challenge.
He sighs. “It’s a fuckin’ diner off the side of the freeway, darlin’. They got greasy food and black coffee, ‘s about all you need.”
You don’t say anything.
Then, after a beat—“They got some kinda sloppy mess they call the Thunder Burger. ‘S got onion rings and shit on it. Ain’t half bad.”
You have to admit, he’s passing your pop quiz with flying colors. His answers have been too quick, too specific for him to be lying to you. There’s a pretty solid chance this diner does exist, and that he’s been there before. The man hasn’t said anything that’s indicated he wants more to do with you than to offer you a ride and some dinner. He’s probably just somebody’s harmless grandfather, anyway, judging by his motheaten flannel and gray-stricken beard you can see now that you’ve approached his truck a few paces closer.
“Okay,” you concede, your stomach growling loudly as the man leans over the bench seat to pop open the passenger side door for you. You shrug off your backpack and climb into the cabin, clicking your seatbelt into place as you situate yourself on the cracked leather seat. 
“All set?” the stranger asks.
“Mhm,” you hum, finally getting a better look at the man you might just owe the rest of your life to after tonight. For being somebody’s grandfather, he’s… kinda handsome. Really fucking handsome, actually, in a rugged sort of way. He’s got warm amber eyes that sparkle even in the dark of night, a kind smile that completely disarms you in an instant, and a splintering scar across the bridge of his nose that somehow only adds to his good looks. You try to suppress your own grin as you look away from him quickly, opting to focus on fidgeting with one of the fraying edges of your denim shorts instead. Even in your peripheral vision, you don’t miss how his eyes shift from your own to the exposed skin of your thighs. He doesn’t say anything, just clears his throat as he shifts gears and steers his truck back onto the road again. 
He lets the next few minutes pass in comfortable silence before asking, “You got a name, sweetheart?”
You tell him, and he flashes another charming smile at you. “I like that, ‘s pretty… Well, I’m Joel. Sure you were wonderin’. Now you ain’t gettin’ a ride from a stranger no more, are ya?”
“Yeah, I guess I’m not,” you giggle, and you’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. “So… you’ve been to Moody’s before?”
“Handful of times, yeah. When I’m passin’ through.”
You nod. “So you come up here, like… for work or somethin’?”
Joel chuckles. “Or somethin’. You never even heard of the damn place, so… reckon you don’t find yourself out here very often, do ya?”
“No… ‘M not even really sure where ‘here’ is, to be honest. I just kinda… started walking.”
“Ah… a runaway, then, are ya?” Joel asks, with an appreciated amount of understanding in his tone rather than judgment. “‘M sure your folks are missin’ ya right about now, must have your boyfriend worried sick.”
You scoff at that. “Fuck no. They probably don’t even know I’m gone, won’t even bother trying to come look for me. And I don’t have a boyfriend, so…”
“Damn shame. ‘M sorry about that, sweetheart,” Joel comforts, placing a large calloused hand on your thigh. It makes your breath hitch, but his touch isn’t entirely unwelcome. You let him squeeze once at the plush of your leg before he replaces his hand on the wheel, and your cunt spasms out a little fluttering pulse against the seam of your shorts, despite yourself.
The rest of the drive to Moody’s is relatively quiet, save for the gentle crooning of an old country singer emanating from the cassette player on the dash. The soft singing and steady strumming of a banjo combined with the muffled chugging of the truck’s engine is enough to lull you to sleep, especially after the day you’ve had. You know that just about every mental alarm bell you have should be screaming at you to jump out of the car, to run, that sleeping alone in the dirt would’ve been a better decision than getting into this strange man’s—Joel’s—truck, but you’re too tired to hear them. He smells good, like woodsmoke and pine and cinnamon, and if he wanted to do something awful to you, he probably would’ve done it by now. So you trust him, for now at least, and let your lashes fan out against your cheeks as your head falls back against the cushioned headrest, coaxed into sleep by the lullaby of tires against pavement and fingertips against guitar strings.
You only rouse when you feel the truck come to a stop about half an hour or so later, slowly blinking your eyes open against the bright neon sign that reads “MOODY’S” in bold capital letters. Your jaw stretches wide as a yawn overtakes the muscles, and you hear Joel’s southern drawl replace the one from the cassette as he shuts the engine off.
“Mornin’, sleepyhead. Not too tired to eat somethin’ now, are ya?”
Another unpleasant-sounding rumble from your empty stomach answers for you, loud enough for both of you to hear this time. The air puffing out of the diner’s kitchen smells strongly of fatty bacon and rich coffee, just like Joel had promised you the place would offer. Although the digital clock on the dash read just after 10:30 before you fell asleep, you’ve never craved breakfast quite like you do right now. You absentmindedly lick your lips as you imagine the sweet and savory—and more importantly free—meal that could be waiting for you beyond that blinding beacon of a sign.
“Well, alright then. Let’s get some food in ya before you keel over, hm?” Joel says as he exits the truck, landing on his feet in the dirt parking lot with a soft groan. He waits by the hood for you to meet up with him, and you walk up the couple of steps to the entrance together. He holds the door open for you, and you offer him a shy ‘thank you’, to which he responds with a soft spoken ‘welcome, sweetheart’. You stand shyly behind his broad form as he asks the hostess for a table for two, and she leads you to a green leather booth tucked into the corner of the diner. She hands each of you a sticky laminated menu, the pages a charming mess of clashing colors and faded pictures and retro-looking fonts, then departs with a promise that your waitress will bring the two of you some water as you take your time deciding on what you might like. 
You light up upon reading that Moody’s serves breakfast all day, and that they can make you exactly what you were hoping for—a stack of chocolate chip pancakes with sides of bacon and hashbrowns. You can’t help but smile to yourself as you wiggle in your seat, excitedly anticipating the waitress to come back around so you can order.
“Whatcha so excited about over there?” Joel asks, eyeing you from across the table as he glances up from his own menu.
“Nothin’, I was just hoping I could get some pancakes, and they have ‘em on the menu,” you explain giddily. “I’ll probably get some coffee, too, really complete the whole ‘breakfast for dinner’ thing.”
Joel huffs through his nose. “Decaf, I hope. ‘S the middle of the goddamn night, sweetheart. Gonna be bouncin’ off the walls in the room later, hardly get any sleep.”
He’s right, you suppose. But wait—“What room?”
Joel shrugs casually. “There’s a decent motel another exit or two down, figured they could probably get us a couple o’ beds for the night. But, ‘m sorry, shouldn’t have assumed—”
“No! No, it’s okay.”
Is it? You only met the man less than an hour ago, and you already agreed to let him give you a ride before you even knew his name. You suppose you hadn’t really thought about what would happen after he bought you dinner, but not thinking ahead seems to have been a theme today, hasn’t it? You remind yourself that he’s only been kind and respectful to you so far, save for that placement of his hand on your upper thigh soon after he picked you up. But that could’ve just been a friendly, paternal gesture, right? And he said a couple of beds, when he mentioned the motel, which seemed to imply that he plans on the two of you sleeping in separate beds, maybe even separate rooms. You’ve found yourself having to make yet another somewhat reckless decision tonight, but one that would be in your best interest to say ‘yes’ to, at this point. What other option would you have if you declined his offer?
“Don’t really have anywhere else to go, so… yeah, okay. Motel sounds good. And decaf it is, I guess.”
Joel’s apologetic expression quickly morphs into a satisfied smirk. “Good girl,” he praises. You like how the words sound coated in his thick drawl, even though you probably shouldn’t. You shift where you sit as that familiar fluttering sensation returns to the seat of your panties, just for a moment. You’re grateful that the waitress arrives at the booth not a second later, cheerily introducing herself as she sets down a glass of water for each of you. When she asks if you’re ready to order, Joel gestures to you as if to say ‘ladies first’, and you politely prattle off your request. You make sure to emphasize that you’d like your coffee decaf, and ask if she could please bring some more of the little cups of vanilla creamer to the table. “Not a problem, honey,” she replies, and Joel winks at you as she asks what she can get for him. He orders the Thunder Burger he had told you about earlier, and a black coffee, which he doesn’t request to be decaf. The waitress leaves the two of you alone again with an ‘I’ll have that right out for ya,’ and you let your eyes follow the calming baby blue color of her dress as she glides her way back to the kitchen. When she disappears around the corner of the bar, you take the opportunity to study Moody’s other patrons. There isn’t another young person in sight, mostly just men around Joel’s age with similarly heavy bags under their eyes, likely truck drivers indulging in their first hot meal of the day within the diner’s comforting wood-paneled walls. You wonder if that’s how Joel knows about this place, because he “passes through” this area on long hauls across the midwest. You open your mouth to ask him if your assumption is correct, but he cuts you off before you can say anything.
“I gotta admit, sweetheart, I’m curious… The hell was a pretty thing like you doin’ out in the middle of goddamn nowhere tonight? I mean, I know you’re a runaway ‘n all, but… shouldn’t you be one o’ those college party girls or somethin’? ‘M sure you got plenty of friends wonderin’ where you are.”
You sigh, shaking your head as you distractedly pick at a splintered piece of wood at the edge of the table.
“I was in college. Was supposed to be going back again this year, but… my mom spent all the fucking savings I had left for the rest of it on fixing up her dumb boyfriend’s car. It’s just been sitting in the fucking lawn all summer, sure as hell not being used for something useful like going to the job he doesn’t have. That bastard…” You say the last part under your breath through gritted teeth.
“Shit… Tha’s a tough deal, baby, ‘m real sorry to hear that,” Joel comforts. “But y’know, everybody’s got mommy ‘n daddy issues, don’t mean you just up and start walkin’ all by your lonesome, not even have any idea where you’re goin’.”
“Well, it wasn’t just that. There was… nevermind, it’s stupid.” You slump into the cushioned booth, silently cursing yourself for even bringing it up.
“What is it?” Joel pushes, sitting up straighter to show you that he wants to listen, wants to get to know you. And God dammit, he might be the first person you’ve met in a long time who actually seems to care about what you have to say, as strange as it is. You flick your eyes up to his face, and he’s wearing a sincere gaze that convinces you to continue.
“There was this girl I went to high school with. She disappeared a couple of years ago, nobody ever found out what happened to her. People figured she probably just ran away, and I thought… I dunno. That maybe she had the right idea, leaving that place behind. I always held onto this hope that maybe she was still out there somewhere actually doing something with her life, that maybe she just changed her name or something and disappeared on purpose.” You pause. “I guess I just thought I might be able to do the same, if I left.”
“I see…” Joel muses sympathetically. “Maybe I oughta give you a lil’ more credit, then. Must’a been tough losin’ a friend like that, not knowin’ where she ended up.”
“I mean, Ruby wasn’t really my friend. She just—”
“Hang on. Ruby, you said?” Joel interrupts, his eyes suddenly looking a little wild.
“...Yeah. Her name was Ruby. Ruby Carpenter.”
Fuck.
Joel has to adjust himself under the table, his dick now hardening uncomfortably in his jeans at just the mention of her name. He remembers Ruby, remembers chuckling to himself when he realized the irony of her name matching the color of her blood, remembers watching the news coverage of her disappearance in this very same diner, those handful of years ago. She was a sweet thing, he remembers this, too. It was a shame she had ended up being such a fighter, that she had to get put down the way she did. But she shouldn’t have thrown that fucking rock at his face, called him a sick fuck and a freak as she made her pitiful little escape attempt. Joel is lucky that all he came away from it with is that ugly little scar that mars the bridge of his nose. He can’t say the same for her.
“Why? You heard her name before?” You ask him, an unfortunate little twinkle of hope in your eyes.
“Maybe.” Yes. “Sounds a lil’ familiar, might remember hearin’ about it on the news or somethin’.”
That goddamn news coverage sure as hell taught him a lesson. Joel had spent months trying to keep the cops off his fucking tail after he had dumped her body on some forgettable patch of land behind an old decaying barn. He had even gotten pulled in for a fucking interview at the station in what he now presumes to be your hometown, where they had questioned him for an hour or so about her disappearance. He still isn’t sure how he talked his way out of that one. Ruby might not have been good for much else, other than pissing him the hell off with all of her pathetic crying and begging to just please, please let me go back home, but she did help him perfect his craft, he can give her that much. It’s because of her that Joel makes certain now that any girl he picks up doesn’t have anybody who will miss her or plaster her face on every local channel or send out goddamn search parties to find her. Girls like you.
You’re just so perfect, it would be so fucking easy for him to make you disappear for good, it’s almost comical. It had hardly taken any convincing at all to get you to climb into his truck, had taken even less to get you to agree to go to some seedy ass motel with him that might not even exist, for all you know. It does, but you didn’t even try to test him about it this time, just put all of your trust in him like a stray puppy would to the first person to pick it up off the street. That is just about what you are, he supposes. So far, you seem like the perfect candidate to become his little captive pet. If you keep it up, maybe you won’t meet the same fate as the rest of them. He’d told himself he’d be done after the last one, anyway, his body too old and achy and slow now to chase after the ones who put up a little more fight, like she had. She’d nearly escaped, made it a decent way through the woods and almost reached the main road before tripping on an exposed root and snapping her ankle. He remembers how weak and scared she’d looked before he’d used his knife to put her out of her misery, and it makes his dick twitch. Joel doesn’t plan on snuffing you out, not right now at least, since you haven’t given him a reason to. But his fingers still twitch where they rest on the table, moving out of instinct as he can’t help but imagine what they’d look like wrapped so tightly around your little throat. Would you cry? Would you beg? Would you pray? Would he have to glide his blade across your vocal chords just to get you to stop screaming so fucking loud? He wonders.
“Oh… Was that one of the times you were just ‘passin’ through’ for whatever reason you haven’t told me yet?”
Joel hadn’t realized that his eyes had been unfocused for so long, or that he’d been holding his breath, or that his hand had been squeezing his glass of water so hard he’s glad it hadn’t shattered. The airy sound of your voice brings him back to reality, and he huffs a light chuckle as he fixes his face into a more pleasant expression. 
“Yeah, ‘spose it was.” 
You roll your eyes at him playfully. “Come on, Joel. I just told you, like, my whole sob story. I feel like I deserve to know at least one thing about you now.”
You have a point.
He gives in. “Fine. I got a brother, used to come through this area when I’d pay him a visit. That good enough for ya?”
You cross your arms. “No. What’s his name?”
“Tommy.”
“What’s he look like?”
“Like me. Little younger. Little uglier.”
You laugh at that.
It makes Joel smile.
Maybe you could be the one he’s been looking for all this time. Too bad he had to waste so many others before he finally got to you.
The waitress comes back to your table soon after that, with your steaming plates of delicious-smelling food and hot mugs of coffee balanced expertly on a large plastic tray. She sets them down in front of the pair of you with a cheery smile, and you thank her happily when she doesn’t forget the extra sickeningly sweet cups of creamer you had requested. Joel doesn’t take his eyes off you once during the interaction, not even to feast his eyes upon the monstrous burger now sitting before him, not even as he thanks the waitress for delivering it to him. His lingering gaze makes you feel a little warm, but it could just be from the heat radiating off of your plates.
“What? You’re not getting a bite of mine, if that’s why you’re looking at me,” you tease, already getting to work putting the sugary creamer to good use.
Joel just shakes his head, his caramel colored eyes still never leaving you as your coffee begins to resemble their hue. “No, ‘s not why.”
“Whatever,” you reply through a giggle, making a poor attempt to hide your girlish grin behind the lip of your white ceramic mug. 
The two of you eat your meals in relative silence, mostly enjoying each other’s company and basking in the relaxing ambience created by silverware tapping against porcelain, hushed conversations, and the local country station playing through the old radio sitting on the counter. The reception is a little spotty way out here in wherever the hell you are, so you can’t quite tell what song it is. But Joel seems to know, judging by the rhythmic bouncing of his knee under the table that creates little circular ripples in your coffee. Maybe you’ll ask him what it is later, how he knows it, if you can listen to it again in the truck together. He doesn’t seem to be as much of an open book as you’ve already given yourself away to be, and you respect that about him. It doesn’t make you any less curious, but you resign yourself to getting to know him better in the small doses he’s willing to offer you. 
You decide to begin a mental list of all the things you want to ask him later, knowing that by the time you make it to the motel tonight, you’ll be far too exhausted to do anything more than just collapse onto the springy mattress and sleep until you get kicked out of the room the next morning. You almost wish you hadn’t listened to Joel’s request for you to take your coffee decaffeinated tonight, and you still aren’t quite sure why you did. It just feels so strangely easy to give into him, to trust him, to let him make decisions for you. You suppose that’s what you’ve been needing all this time, someone to guide you and understand you and at least pretend like they care about you. Joel has shown you more concern and care and protection in the last hour or so than either of your parents have pretty much your whole life. And he’s good at this, making you feel wanted, making you feel like somebody, even in subtle ways, just by looking at you.
“A’right, why don’t you finish up, darlin’, ‘n we’ll hit the road again. Practically usin’ your pancakes as a pillow over there.”
“Oh, sorry,” you apologize sleepily, waking yourself up enough to make quick work finishing off your plate and your last few sips of coffee. 
“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout, sweetheart. Lord knows you need some rest, won’t be too much longer now,” Joel assures, fishing a few tens out of his faded leather wallet and placing them on the table. He slides to the edge of the booth and stands himself up with only a few pained noises as he straightens out his back, then offers his hand for you to take. You use it as leverage to pull yourself upright, and your hands linger in each other’s hold for a few seconds longer than they need to. The hostess thanks the two of you for stopping in when you pass her by, and Joel opens the door for you again as you leave Moody’s. He opens the truck door for you, too, and promises you that the motel is just another couple of minutes down the freeway. You make an effort to stay awake in your seat this time as Joel begins the drive, opting to gaze out the window and focus on trying to make out the sparkling constellations above the treeline. You smile privately at the moon when you find that she’s following closely behind you just as she always does, bright and full. 
She doesn’t leave your side until you reach the unassuming little roadside motel, which to your gratitude, proudly displays their vacancy on the flickering sign in the parking lot. It doesn’t look like a five star joint by any means, but you know it will serve its purpose just fine. Joel instructs you to stay in the truck while he goes about getting a room for the two of you, and you don’t object. He’d insisted that you didn’t need to be on your feet any longer than you already had been today, and you were too tired to argue with him even if you wanted to. When he returns, he taps lightly on the passenger side window so as not to startle you from the half-asleep, half-awake state you’ve found yourself in, and swings your backpack over his shoulder as he helps you out of the truck. He leads you to the room at the end of the row, and the door takes some finessing of the key and a shove of his shoulder to open. Joel flicks on the light, and you let out a disappointed-sounding ‘oh…’ when it reveals your accommodations.
There aren’t two beds like you had assumed Joel was going to request. There’s only one.
Joel catches your reaction. “‘S this gonna be alright? I know it ain’t the Ritz Carlton, but—”
“No, the room’s fine, it’s not that. I just thought… I just assumed that… I didn’t know it was gonna be, like… just the one bed.” You try to explain your discomfort as gently as possible, without seeming ungrateful for everything Joel has done for you tonight.
He looks at you sympathetically. “I know, I ain’t tryin’ anythin’, I swear. Guy told me it was the last room they had, jus’ figured it was better than nothin’.” 
You offer him a soft smile, but your eyes must still look a little wide as you begin to nervously pick at your fingernails. Joel continues, “I can take the chair if you want, darlin’. Get the bed all to yourself, how’s that sound?”
You visibly relax at that, your shoulders deflating as your smile becomes a little more genuine. “Okay, that’s good. Thank you.”
“‘Course, sweetheart. How’s about you take a nice hot shower, rinse off some o’ that dirt you picked up from walkin’ all day… Don’t suppose you got some suitable clothes in here for sleepin’ in?” Joel asks, handing your backpack off to you.
You shake your head. “Just some jeans and t-shirts, and another pair of shoes. And… y’know, some underwear, and stuff.”
Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, then rubs his fingers across his forehead exasperatedly. “I swear… it’s like you didn’t think there’d be a tomorrow or somethin’, girl. Christ.” Joel looks out the window to his truck parked just outside. “Tell you what, think I got somethin’ in the truck you can wear. Why don’t you see if they got anythin’ on the TV tha’s worth a damn, ‘n I’ll be back, alright?”
You nod, “Okay,” then set your backpack down on the drab carpet in favor of picking up the remote perched in front of the small square television. You sit yourself down on the edge of the bed as Joel leaves the room, and begin to flick through the few channels that aren’t just a screen full of snowy static.
Local news. Commercial. Game show. Commercial. Documentary. Commercial. 
Eventually, you land on what seems to be one of those old black-and-white western shows that you can never remember the name of. You only know that the reruns used to play on Sundays around lunchtime, because Rob would always be half paying attention to it with a beer in his hand when you and your mom would get home from church. For how adamant she was that you attend every weekend, she sure never called him a harlot and a sinner for not wanting to go with her. You’re not sure she had ever even tried to get him to go, but he probably didn’t own anything decent enough to wear, anyway. Whatever, fuck them. The show seems like the kind of thing Joel would like, so you let it keep playing. 
He comes back a moment later with a small stack of folded up clothes, tossing them over to where you sit on the bed. You unfold what he’s given you and examine them—a pair of simple pink cotton shorts, and a white tank top with a ditsy floral pattern scattered across the fabric. The clothing is a little more revealing than you’d like, but you figure you’d be a hell of a lot more comfortable wearing them to sleep than the denim shorts you have on now.
“These are… great. Thank you, Joel. But…” you snicker. “Should I be concerned that you have a very convenient supply of girls’ clothes in your truck?” Joel scoffs. “‘S for when I got Tommy’s kid with me, smartass. He’s got a daughter, few years younger ‘n you.”
“Okay, well, I dunno how I was supposed to know that, but… as long as you don’t have a girlfriend who’s gonna come after me for wearing her clothes.”
Joel only chuckles in response, his attention suddenly pulled to the TV.
“Gunsmoke, huh? ‘S a good choice, definitely what I’d classify as ‘worth a damn’.”
You smile to yourself, and his approval makes that warm fluttery feeling return to your belly. “I didn’t even know what it was called, just seemed like something you’d like.”
He turns back to you. “That obvious, huh? ‘S just ‘cause I’m old and southern, ain’t it?”
“Maybe a little,” you admit, making a pinching gesture with your hand.
Joel nods as he makes his way over to the armchair on the corner of the room, collapsing onto it with a groan. “Well, why don’t you go ‘n get yourself all changed and cleaned up, ‘n if you’re quick enough maybe we can finish the episode together and then get some shuteye, hm?”
You swiftly unzip your backpack to retrieve one of your clean pairs of underwear, then bound over to the small bathroom with them and your new change of clothes in hand. It’s not the most spotless one you’ve ever had to use, but you’ve honestly seen much worse. You rinse off quickly in the steaming shower, using the scratchy motel-provided washcloth to scrub the dirt from your legs, stuck to you with the sweat you worked up from God knows how many miles of walking today. 
Today. You can hardly believe it hasn’t even been a full 24 hours since you left home yet. It seems like you’ve already known Joel for days, maybe even years, as silly as it sounds. You wonder if he might just take you in after this, or if he’ll have had enough of providing for you after just one night. He seems like a man of limited means, and he’s already given you so much. If you’re brave enough, maybe you’ll ask him tomorrow, when you get to the ‘so… what now?’ part of your time together.
For now, you step out of the shower and dry yourself off with an impossibly scratchier towel, then pull on your panties and the tank top and shorts Joel provided you with.
Jesus, how much younger is Tommy’s daughter?
The shorts just barely cover your ass, and there’s a sizable gap between their waistband and the bottom hem of your top. The thin, white material of the shirt only serves to accentuate the way your nipples poke through the fabric, but you suppose there isn’t anything you can do about that.
You quietly crack open the bathroom door, and are somewhat relieved to find that Joel’s already fallen asleep in the chair. You do wish you could’ve finished the episode of Gunsmoke with him, but the end credits seem to be rolling already anyway, and you’d rather avoid being seen in your very ill-fitting pajamas. Although, you do wonder if he’d say anything, or if he’d just let his hungry gaze linger in silence again, holding himself back from touching you beyond a comforting pat on the thigh.
You pick the remote up off the bed and use it to make the TV screen sizzle to black, then tip toe over to the lightswitch by the door and turn it off, the room now completely shrouded in darkness. Joel snores softly from the chair as you blindly feel your way back over to the bed, pulling the covers back and nestling yourself underneath them. The bed is surprisingly comfortable, considering, and it doesn’t take long for your exhaustion to catch up with you. Your thoughts become slower and slower along with your breathing, and you’re asleep not even five minutes after your head hits the pillow.
The last room they had, yeah, right. You’re just the most pathetic little thing, aren’t you? You’ll believe just about anything that comes out of his mouth if he turns up the ‘southern charm’ dial a few ticks, throws in a feigned apologetic-looking expression for good measure. It’s sad, really. For you, anyway.
Joel fakes his snoring for another thirty minutes or so, until he’s certain you’re sound asleep. He had heard your breath even out almost immediately after you had tucked yourself in, but he had chosen to lay in wait for a little while longer, just to make sure you wouldn’t put up too much of a fight when he made his move. You don’t seem like the type, considering how you’d hardly argued with him at all tonight, like when he had convinced you to forgo the caffeine with your dinner. There’s a reason he wanted you sleepy and subdued tonight, but you didn’t know that. Joel likes how well you listen to him, how easily you do as he asks.
He also likes how warm you are, how small your body is compared to his own, the difference in size especially prominent now that he’s laying snugly against you, his front pressing firmly into the back of you. You don’t wake from his lumbering movement, only coming to slightly when you feel his arm slide underneath your body, his warm hand snaking its way beneath your tiny shirt to squeeze at your plush tits. 
You mumble out a little “Hm?”, which he’s quick to quiet with, “Sorry, darlin’. Chair was too hard on my damn back. Just go back to sleep, ‘kay?” That chair felt like laying on a goddamn cloud compared to some of the other surfaces he’s found himself having to sleep on before, but again, you don’t know that, and what you don’t know won’t hurt you. You probably won’t even remember this in the morning, how his hard cock is slotted so perfectly against your ass, especially without the confines of his thick jeans holding him back. They’re discarded onto the floor now in front of the armchair, along with his flannel shirt and jacket. Joel holds you tightly against his bare, hairy chest as he circles a roughened pad of his finger around one of your nipples, smirking to himself at how quickly the bud hardens from his touch. He knew you wanted this, and the wet spot that the fingers of his other hand are teasing in the gusset of your panties is proof of it. How long have you been leaking for him like this? Had you been soaking the seat of his truck earlier today? Filthy thing.
You still don’t rouse when he pulls your panties aside and slips a finger inside your slick cunt, or when his grip on your tit loosens in favor of sliding up higher under your tank top, his hand coming to a rest around the base of your throat as he pumps his finger in and out of your tight heat. It would be so fucking easy…
But he can’t, he won’t, because you’re not like the others. You want to get to know him, you let him take care of you, you seem to like his company, and you don’t leap out of bed and call him a fucking perv and a dirty old man for what he’s doing to you. That’s what the others would have done. It’s what they have done. And they faced the consequences.
But you’re different. You’re not like them. You’re like him. A lost soul, that’s what you are. Nowhere to call home, no one who misses you or loves you or gives a damn what happens to you. Joel’s mouth had tasted bitter when he had told you about Tommy, or rather, lied about him. Joel hasn’t seen the fucker in years, certainly doesn’t pay him any visits or watch his brat, not since Tommy had learned the truth. You better not show your goddamn face around here ever again, you understand me? Tommy had spat at him. You’re fuckin’ sick. Only reason I don’t turn your ass in myself is ‘cause you’re my goddamn brother. But if I ever fuckin’ see you again, I won’t hesitate. Better make yourself pretty fuckin’ scarce ‘fore I change my mind. That might’ve been about the only time Joel had ever taken orders from his little brother. 
That bitter flavor is cut by the sweet tang of you that he tastes on his finger now, so young and eager and fresh. The hand around your throat squeezes a little tighter, and Joel’s hips begin to move against your ass as he allows himself to suck wet kisses onto the skin under the hinge of your jaw. Softly, gently, so as not to wake you. He could come just like this, using your pliant body in your sleep, rutting himself against your still form with the taste of your pussy on his tongue and his fingers pressed against your pulse points.
He’s close when you stir again, making broken hiccuping sounds as you choke on your breath.
“Shh, shh,” Joel soothes. “You’re alright, sweetheart. ‘S just me. Just—fuck—hold still, go back to sleep, baby.” You let out a quiet whimper, squirming against him just a little bit, but return to your unmoving and silent state a second later. Joel finishes himself off quickly with another couple of shallow thrusts against you, his large hand still gripped around the column of your neck, trying to stifle his groans as he spills into his briefs. He removes his suffocating hand and keeps you pressed tightly against him for a while after that, tanned arms wrapped around your waist and breathing in your scent as he waits for you to settle back down. 
When he’s sure he won’t disturb you again, Joel releases you from his hold and pads quietly back over to the armchair, redressing himself and resuming the position you had left him in. In the morning, if you do remember any of it, you’ll just chalk it up to a very strange dream, one fueled by the desire he knows you’ve felt towards him since he picked you up. You’ll be left with a strange assuredness that he feels the same way about you, without really knowing why. 
But Joel will always know.
The digital clock on the nightstand only reads around 8:00 when you’re awoken by a beam of sunlight shining brightly against the backs of your eyelids, streaming in from the window’s lopsided blinds. You had gone to sleep with your back to Joel, but you find yourself facing him now. He looks kind of peaceful when he’s asleep, that permanent furrow etched between his brows finally smoothed out as he dozes. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but they fall quickly when you adjust your legs and feel the cool dampness against your core, the sensation bringing back the memory of the dream you’d had last night. 
It had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been, could it? There’s no evidence that Joel had really laid next to you last night, that he’d really touched you like that, that you’d wanted him to keep going. It must just be some kind of strange side effect of the affection you feel toward the man who had rescued you, more or less. You’ll likely just part ways after today, anyway, so it’s probably best to just try and forget about the whole thing, put on a fresh pair of underwear and pretend it never happened. 
Joel is awake by the time you’re done freshening up in the bathroom, and he greets you with a raspy ‘Mornin’, sweetheart’ as you retrieve your backpack from next to the bed and shove your ruined underwear into the bottom of it. “You get some good sleep last night?” He asks, rubbing a hand over his eye.
“Mhm, the bed was nice, more comfortable than the one I had at home, honestly.” You finish zipping your backpack closed and sit back down on the bed, pulling on some socks and the lace up sneakers you had been wearing yesterday. “I hope the chair was okay, like, for your back and everything.”
“What makes you say that, baby?”
You pause in the middle of tying one of your shoelaces, turning to look at him with a confused pout. “Didn’t you…? I thought you had told me something about how the chair would be hard on your back. Like, last night.”
Joel frowns, shaking his head. “Don’t think so, darlin’. Chair was just fine.”
“Oh… Well, that’s good.”
Maybe it had just been a dream, then.
Joel hands you a few bills from his wallet, and tasks you with getting the two of you some breakfast from the gas station across the street while he cleans himself up. He tells you that he doesn’t eat much in the mornings, but that you can get yourself whatever you want, as long as you bring him back a carton of cigarettes and a black coffee. You obey eagerly, retrieving what he asked for and getting a pack of miniature powdered donuts and an equally as sugary coffee for yourself.
He’s just stepped out of the bathroom when you return to the room, and your face feels hot when you see him with his dark hair slicked back and wet from the shower. The few strands that fall onto his forehead as he laces up his boots almost make him look a little boyish, despite his whitened temples. 
“Such a good girl, thank you,” Joel praises when you hand him his items. 
You respond with a shy ‘You’re welcome’, but he doesn’t miss how you seem to light up at his words. You plop yourself down onto the worn-in chair that Joel had used as a bed last night, happily munching on your gas station donuts and sipping on your coffee. It all makes you feel warm from the inside out.
But you figure you should find out what the rest of today might look like before you let yourself enjoy the beginnings of it too much.
“So, um… We’re just gonna check out this morning and then… what?” 
“Whaddya mean, baby?”
“I mean… are you just gonna, like… take me to the nearest bus station or something?”
Joel’s confusion is written all over his face, embedded deep into those lines between his brows. You could swear he almost looks a little hurt. “Why would I do that? ‘S that what you want?” He asks softly.
You try to backpedal a little, afraid you might’ve offended him or seemed ungrateful in your question. “I just thought it might be what you want. That you probably have somewhere else you need to be, like Tommy’s or—”
“No, I don’t,” Joel says definitively.
You pause. “Okay, so—”
“You ever been to California?”
His question stumps you for a moment, seeming so random in its nature. “No.”
“You want to?”
You shrug. “I mean… sure. Maybe someday—”
“Why don’t you come with me then, baby?”
You let out an awkward giggle. “...Come with you where?”
“To California. Come with me.” Joel’s tone is genuine but firm.
“Like, today? Are you sure?”
“I mean, we ain’t gettin’ there today, darlin’. But yeah, I’m sure. We both got nowhere else to be, do we? So let’s just go, we’ll see it together.”
You beam up at him, realizing that he’s being serious. Joel does want you, wants you to be his companion, maybe even something more that you’ll discover on familiar-looking back roads and in cities you’ve only ever seen pictures of. 
“Okay,” you agree excitedly. 
Joel nods. “Okay, then. Lemme go check us out ‘n we’ll get back on the road again. Burnin’ daylight already,” he jokes. He carries your backpack out to the truck for you, setting it down between your feet after he opens the door and helps you inside with a stable hand. It only takes a few minutes for Joel to hand in the room key and pay for the night, and then he’s back at your side. You begin to feel like that’s where you always want him to stay. 
“So, where to first, baby? California ain’t goin’ anywhere, can take as long to get there as we wanna. We’ll go wherever you like, take your pick.” Joel leans across your body to dig a folded up map out of the glove compartment, handing it to you. 
You examine it, your eyes darting across the dozens of dots with the names of cities next to them, some you’ve never even heard of. You point to one that you have heard of, but have never been to, because you’ve never even left the state you grew up in before.
“Um… how about Detroit? I’ve heard it’s nice, I think.”
Joel belly laughs at that. “It ain’t, but sure. You wanna go to Detroit, that’s where we’ll go. Buckle up, baby,” he instructs, patting your thigh. You oblige, and it feels good to finally know where you’re going, and that you’re going there with someone who cares about you, who feels safe, who wants you around. You also feel a little hopeful that maybe you were right about Ruby, after all. That you didn’t start walking for nothing, that you weren’t following some childish delusion, that if something as good as Joel had happened to you when you left, that maybe she had found herself on a similar path, ran into somebody good who took her wherever she wanted to go and helped her find someplace she belonged. Maybe she found her way out to California, eventually. What you are certain of is that neither of you ever have to go back to that town ever again, and that feels good, too.
And if it feels good, then it can’t be bad.
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ladykailitha · 1 year
Text
Just on my Steve is smooth operator when he sets his mind on someone agenda. Because remember even Robin thinks he’s striking out because he doesn’t know what he wants. Cue him deciding he wants Eddie and cranking that charm up to eleven.
***
Steve took a deep breath. He was good at this. Just because he had struck out with girls lately didn’t mean he didn’t know how to come on to someone.
He waited until he had a handful of witnesses that wouldn’t hate crime him for this.
Eddie came into Family Video with Dustin, Lucas, and Mike to rent a movie. Will and the rest of Byers family were in the process of moving back to Indiana, so it was just the three boys today.
Steve had sent Robin to make sure there weren’t any other customers before he made his move. He walked up to the metalhead and stepped into his space until their bodies were almost touching.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
Eddie squeaked. “Are you talking to me?”
Steve hummed appreciatively. “Do you see any other doe eyed, dimpled cheeked, long haired metalheads around?” He wrapped his finger around one of Eddie’s curls.
Eddie turned bright red. He pressed his lips together and shook his head.
“So beautiful,” Steve murmured. “Please let me take you out tonight. Say that you will.”
“Yes,” Eddie croaked.
Steve purred. “So good to me.”
Eddie nodded.
“Is seven o’clock good for you, babe?”
“Yes.”
“You are too good to me, gorgeous,” Steve whispered. “I’ll pick you up then.”
Eddie nodded again, his lips pressed into thin line afraid to break the spell that Steve had placed on him.
Steve leaned forward and Eddie let a little moan as he moved past his lips to whisper in his ear.
“I don’t want our first kiss in a video rental store, but make no mistake I will kiss you tonight. I will kiss you breathless.” He twirled the hair in his grasp a little further. “Will you be a good boy and wait for me?”
Eddie let out another squeak. “Yes.”
Just then the door opened and another customer came in.
“That’s too bad, beautiful,” Steve purred, gently untangling his finger from Eddie’s hair. “I’ve got to get back to work. See you tonight.” He patted Eddie on the chest and went to go help the woman who had walked in.
It took Eddie a moment to come back online.
“Did Steve just flirt with me?” Eddie squeaked looking over at the three boys. 
Lucas nodded, wide-eyed. “Yeah, man. He hit you with Harrington charm, hard.”
“And did he just ask me out?” Eddie said, his voice a little clearer.
“Yeah, dude,” Dustin said. “It was the smoothest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Eddie nodded and shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “And I said yes, right?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why, but yeah, man. You said yes.”
Eddie jumped up and down, fist pumping and whooping it up. “Yeah baby!”
Steve looked over his shoulder and grinned. He turned back to his customer, shaking his head fondly.
“Aren’t you going to do something about that young man?” the woman sneered.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Steve said with a soft smile. “I’ve got it covered.”
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corroded-hellfire · 4 months
Note
AYW request where Reader graduates from college so Ryan, Luke, and Eddie come to her graduation. And then Eddie gives her a little graduation gift of his own...
+ Eddie eating Reader out under her gown right after her graduation ceremony. Like, the moment she walks across the stage, he’s dragging her to the bathroom and diving in.
I am dedicating this to Dr. Bug! I'm so proud of you @munson-blurbs 💚
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f receiving, age gap
Words: 5k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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The polyester robe that hangs on your shoulders sways in the breeze as you fetch your cap out of the back seat. The cerulean regalia is a beautiful shade, but it was a pain in the ass to find something to wear beneath it that didn’t clash. The white floral summer dress peeking out now from your unzipped gown was a lucky find that caught your eye while out having lunch with Max one day. 
Cap with a golden tassel securely in your hand, you shut the back door to your sister’s car and walk around the backside to stand next to her. 
“I can’t wait to meet your boyfriend,” your sister teases, as if you’re twelve and not twenty-two. 
You roll your eyes as you lift a hand to shade your face from the blazing sun above. It’s not even officially summer yet but Indiana is coming in hot with those high temperatures this year. 
“Don’t be weird,” you say.
An exaggerated gasp leaves your older sister’s lips, and she presses a hand to her heart, fresh yellow nail polish glinting in the sunlight. 
“Me? I’m never weird.”
“When I was fourteen you told Connor Donald–”
“But you were going to the bathroom!”
“You don’t tell that to a boy when he calls!” Somehow you feel like that teenage girl all over again.
“I just had this feeling about him,” she says with a shrug. Your sister crosses her arms over her chest. “And I was right.”
“Yeah, he was a creep,” you admit. 
The smug smile on her pretty face is annoying enough to have you turning away from her. At the other end of the parking lot, you see a familiar group of men headed your way, and the littlest one breaks away from the herd and races your way, yelling your name. As he gets closer, you spy the hat perched atop his chocolate curls and the cuteness devastates you.
With a gleeful chuckle, you catch Luke as he flings himself into your arms. Using the momentum, you swoop the almost-seven-year-old up and hold him against your hip. Your back and arm muscles protest the effort, but you do your best to ignore them. Truthfully, Luke’s getting heavier and too big for this now, but you can’t bear to stop picking him up—he’s still that baby boy to you. 
“Hey, you,” you greet him.
“You look so pretty!” he tells you as you begrudgingly set him down.  
“Thank you!” you say. “You look pretty handsome yourself in that snazzy fedora.”
Luke giggles and adjusts the brim of the hat so he can see you better. 
By now, the rest of the gang has made their way to you and Ryan is the next one to launch himself towards you for a hug. Wayne goes next and you can tell your boyfriend is purposefully waiting to be the last one. Indeed he was as he brings you into his arms and presses a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. His hands slip below the graduation robe and rest on the soft cotton of the dress that hugs your lower back. 
“Hi,” he whispers against your lips.
“Hi,” you reply just as softly. 
If it weren’t for your sister clearing her throat, you very well might have forgotten that you were at your graduation, let alone there were other people standing around you right now. Such is the power of Eddie and his touch.
“Oh,” you say, face heating up as you take a step back from your boyfriend. “Right. Um, everyone, this is my big sister, Gin. Gin, this is Eddie, Wayne, and the little monsters Luke and Ryan.”
Both boys make silly faces at you in retaliation for their introduction, which you have no problem doing right back to them. 
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Eddie says, extending his hand.
“Likewise,” Gin replies as she shakes it. 
“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Wayne greets your sister. They shake hands as Eddie comes closer to you again, standing behind you and resting his hands on your hips.
“Heard that if it weren’t for you, these two wouldn’t even know each other,” Wayne says, nodding to you and Eddie. 
Ryan’s nose scrunches up in confusion. “Huh?”
“It’s true,” Gin tells the boy with a smile. “My old roommate is friends with your mom. One day I overheard something about someone needing a babysitter and I knew my little sister was available.”
Luke walks over and wraps his arms around your sister’s hips, giving her a big squeeze.
“Thank you for hearing that!”
The adults chuckle and you lean back into Eddie as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“I don’t wanna go in,” you say with a sigh.
“Where are you going?” Ryan asks.
“I have to go inside with everyone else who’s graduating,” you explain as Eddie’s arms wind their way around your waist. He isn’t making this any easier. “That way you guys get to watch me when I walk across the stage.”
“Ed, would you let the poor girl go?” Wayne says with a sigh, making Gin let out a tittering laugh.
“Don’t wanna,” he says like a petulant child. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “I like your dress.”
“Thank you,” you hum softly.
Silently, Eddie presses his body flush up against yours and you feel his half-hard cock pressing up against the top of your ass. A strangled gasp leaves your lips and Eddie has to bury his face in your neck to hide his smirk.
“I really like it,” he mumbles against your skin.
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Sitting in the small arena, in dark green retractable seats that are usually reserved for someone watching a school basketball or hockey game, Ryan and Luke start to grow restless as they wait for the graduation ceremony to begin. Eddie knows they won’t exactly be captivated once it starts either, but he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it. 
“Luke, can you please sit down? I don’t want to ask you again.”
“When is she coming out?” Luke asks, craning his neck to look around at the stage as he does as his father asked.
“When everybody else does,” Ryan says, also bored, but annoyed by his little brother as well.
“But when’s that?” the six-year-old whines.
“You know,” Gin says with a smile that looks suspiciously like one of Luke’s or Ryan’s when they’re up to something, “I have some pretty funny stories I could tell you about her.”
Eddie is also clearly intrigued by this, a spark of mischief gleaming in his own eyes. 
“Ooh, like what?” Luke asks, already engrossed even though your sister hasn’t begun yet.
“Well, one time,” Gin starts, “she thought she could be like Mary Poppins and fly. She grabbed an umbrella and wanted to climb up to the roof. Our dad followed her into the garage and asked what she was looking for. When she said a ladder so she could go up to the roof, he put an end to her plan. She cried the whole day because she wasn’t allowed to try and fly like Mary Poppins could.”
Luke laughs, tilting sideways until he’s leaning against his big brother. Ryan’s chuckling as well, picturing you being mad because you can’t fly. 
“Are you the big sister?” Ryan asks.
“I am,” Gin says.
“How many years?” Luke asks. “Ryan’s two years older than me. I’m the baby.”
“I’m six years older than her.”
“I’m six years old!” Luke shares excitedly.
“Do you have any more stories?” Ryan asks. 
Eddie and Wayne share a smile between the two of them. Ryan is usually never so open with people he’s just met—he’s always been the shyest in the family. But there’s something about Gin being your sister that has Ryan feeling comfortable enough to be himself. The two of you aren’t identical, though it’s easy to tell that you are sisters. Gin is slightly shorter, and her face holds more roundness than yours does, but there’s a clear resemblance. Especially around the eyes, Eddie notices. They aren’t the exact same shade, but the shape of your eyes and arch of your eyebrows are very much alike. 
“Hmm,” Gin hums as she thinks of another story to entertain the boys with. Eddie can’t help but notice she purses her lips when she’s thinking the same way that you do as well. 
“Oh, okay. She used to make us watch her sing and dance all the time! Especially to New Kids on the Block.”
“Who?” Ryan asks.
Before the stab of feeling old has time to sink in for Eddie, Gin, or Wayne, the lights dim and a blanket of quiet falls over the crowd.
The faculty takes their places on stage and Pomp and Circumstance begins to play over the loudspeaker. Soon, a rolling wave enters the floor of the arena as all graduates file in towards the rows of chairs laid out for them.
Both Ryan and Luke stand, the younger Munson on his tippy toes as he tries to look as far and wide as he can to spot you in the crowd. 
“Where is she?” Luke groans. “Everyone is so blue!”
“Ugh! I can’t find her!” Ryan follows up. 
It takes Eddie a few moments to find you as well. Everyone is matching so he can’t go by what you’re wearing beneath your gown, and it’s even hard to see your beautiful hair with the cap restricting his view. But it doesn’t take your boyfriend very long to spot you, as he’d be able to find you anywhere—even if he was blindfolded. 
“Look, look,” Eddie says, gesturing for his sons to step closer to him. “She’s right there. Next to Aunt Jess.”
Ryan and Luke do their best to follow the direction that their father is pointing in, but it’s hard–even when the graduates all stop walking once they reach their seats. But as Ryan wrinkles up his brow and really tries to examine his dad’s line of vision, his eyes catch on you.
“I see her!” A grin lights up Ryan’s face and it fills Eddie with a warmth that the outside sun could never hope to aspire to. 
After a few more minutes, and once the speeches begin, Luke spies you as well and becomes just as excited as his big brother. Their joy quickly wears off as speaker after speaker comes up to the podium to give some of the most boring speeches Eddie has ever heard in his entire life. He can’t blame his boys for practically falling asleep slumped against one another. 
Finally, the names of the graduates begin to get called and the boys muster up their energy reserves to wait for you. There’s a good chunk of graduates who have their moment before a name is called that the boys recognize.
“Jess Arnold.”
The boys excitedly cheer but become even giddier when they see you’re next up. 
Nothing could have prepared you for the emotion of walking across the stage to receive your diploma. Hearing your name called over the loudspeaker was cool, being up on the jumbo screen for a moment was pretty surreal, but the sounds coming from one particular section of the audience have you choking up as you accept the rolled up piece of parchment from the Dean.
The claps of two small pairs of hands and cheers from those same boys send goosebumps shooting up and down your arms. Luke hadn’t even shouted that loud in excitement when he saw the real-life Hot Wheels cars. Wayne’s whistle joins the noise, that piercing sound making you chuckle as you try to swallow your emotions. Gin’s voice is unmistakable in her cheering—you heard that yelling every day growing up, you’d know it anywhere. But the sound in the cacophony that makes a few tears spill over your lash line is Eddie’s proud and happy “Woo!” that he repeats as you make your way across the platform. You just wish he was waiting for you as soon as you stepped off the stage so you could run into his arms. But as you step down and are about to head back to your seat, you look up and see where your family is up in the stands.
When they realize you’re looking at them, the boys wave excitedly, both hands flapping over their heads. Wayne and Gin both give you waves as well. Your eyes are glued to Eddie though, as he presses his hand to his mouth and then extends it towards you, blowing a kiss your way. A girlish giggle bubbles out of you at the gesture and you blow one right back to him. 
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It feels like ants scurrying out of an ant hill as you exit the arena and try to find familiar faces amongst the thousands of family members and friends who are here to support their loved ones today. 
Jess comes up beside you and loops her arm through yours. You flash her a quick smile and the two of you fight your way through the crowd, searching for your people. 
Your name catches your attention and your head whips to the left to see Luke’s small hands cupped around his mouth. It’s a swim upstream as you tug Jess in that direction, but you finally make it to find Eddie waiting with a bouquet of carnations in his hand. 
More tears threaten to spill over as he hands them to you with a smile so full of admiration and pride on his face.
“Congratulations, sweetheart.”
The wrapper around the flowers crinkles in your hand and you make sure it’s held tight in your fist as you throw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck and hug him as close as you can manage. Eddie doesn’t hesitate for a moment, his arms encircling your waist and holding your body up against his.
“Thank you,” you say loud enough for him to hear over the crowd. “I love you so much.”
“They’re from us, too!” you hear Luke say.
With a soft chuckle, you pull away from Eddie who is raising an eyebrow at his boys.
“Are they, now? I must’ve missed the part where you chipped in,” he says.
“You must’ve,” Luke agrees with a shrug.
You laugh and hand the flowers to Eddie so you can pull both boys in for a big hug. Each of them gets squeezed in an arm but they cling to you just as tightly. 
“You were on stage!” Ryan says when you let go.
“And I heard you cheering for me!” you tell him. 
“Can I wear your hat?” Luke asks.
“Oh, I need a picture of that,” you say while nodding your head. 
That leads to dozens of pictures being taken. You with everyone at once, you with everyone individually, you and Jess goofing off before she went off to find her family. Luke takes a handful while wearing your cap but Eddie plops it back on your head so he can take a few more with you. 
Both boys make gagging noises as Gin snaps a picture of Eddie giving you a kiss. Their groans only grow as you wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck and sink further into the kiss, another snapshot being taken.
“Please tell me that one isn’t going to get hung up anywhere,” Luke gripes. 
For the next picture, Eddie wraps his arm tightly around your waist and dips you, causing you to let out a mixture of a squeal and laughter as your hands cling to him for stability. You’re aware of the flash of the camera going off but it’s nothing compared to the brightness of Eddie’s grin as he looks down at you. It makes your heart pound faster than the adrenaline from the feeling of almost falling could ever do.
Once multiple roles of film have been used, the camera gets tucked away and it’s time to get going. Eddie offers to drive you back, just the two of you, since Gin drove you here and she’s headed straight back home. Wayne can take the boys back to give you and Eddie some time alone.
“Thank you for coming,” you say to your sister as you pull her in for a hug.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she tells you. “I’m so proud of you.” “Thank you.”
It makes you smile to see how the Munsons all hug her goodbye as well–even shy little Ryan. With one last wave, your sister heads towards the parking lot and Wayne ruffles the hair of the two boys.
“Ready, knuckleheads?” he asks.
“Can I wear your cap home?” Luke asks.
“Sure.” You hand the blue piece of regalia to him and instead of switching it out with his fedora like he did for the pictures, he just stacks it on top of his own hat.
“That’s a great look,” Eddie tells him, to which Luke winks in response. 
“Will you take these for me, Ry?” you ask, offering the eight-year-old your bouquet of pastel-colored flowers.
“Of course!” The wrapper crinkles as the boy situates the long stems against his shorter frame.
You press a kiss to both boys’ cheeks before they head towards the parking lot with Wayne. Eddie laces his fingers with yours and you go to follow in the same direction the others just went, when Eddie tugs you back and smacks a kiss to the back of your hand.
“How about a little campus tour before we go?” he asks.
“Oh?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. “Anywhere in particular you want to see?”
Eddie shrugs. “Your favorite spots. Somewhere there’s no one else, maybe.”
“Right,” you say, a smirk tugging the corners of your lips. “Let’s see what we come across.”
Hand in hand, the two of you take a leisurely stroll through the quad of campus. Where there are usually people studying or picnicking during the semester, now there are graduates and families taking pictures and celebrating. The warm day outside leads you to the cool shelter of the student center at the far end of the yard, where you spent a lot of your college days having lunch. It’s mostly empty now, no one having any real need to be in here other than to escape the brutal sun. 
An empty hallway catches Eddie’s eye, and he leads you by the hand to follow him in that direction. His boots squeak against the white linoleum tiles and your heels clack as you step behind in his wake. There isn’t much down this way except for a few offices that are now empty, a room full of vending machines, and some bathrooms. 
Your boyfriend takes advantage of the latter, the empty hallway leading him to believe there will be no one in the men’s room. His gamble is correct as he pulls you in behind him. He moves quick as lightning to turn the lock on the bathroom door, assuring that no one will interrupt the two of you. 
Eddie’s lips are on yours a heartbeat later, both his and your hands going to the zipper of your graduation gown. Neither of you can get it down blindly, but Eddie’s too impatient to make another go at it. Instead, he grips your hips and helps you sit on the peach granite counter behind you. The gown gets rucked up your body, the dress he’s so fond of joining it until they’re both up around your waist.
“Eddie,” you whimper.
“Shhh, shhh, baby,” Eddie croons as he sinks down to his knees. Soft, plush lips trail hot kisses from the inside of your left knee all the way up to the apex of your thighs. Large, strong hands massage up and down your legs as his lips never leave your skin, touching and teasing everywhere except where you need him the most. 
Eddie lets his eyes slip closed not only to let himself enjoy the feeling of having his hands and lips worship your soft skin, but also because if he gets one more look at the wet patch on your purple lace panties, he’s going to rip them off of you and the fun will end far too soon. 
“Eddie, please,” you beg.
“I’ve got you, princess,” he says softly. 
Torturously slow, Eddie’s mouth comes closer to your center, the heat of his breath making you curl your toes before he even comes in contact with you. Brown doe eyes open to look at you, darkened by lust as he finally presses his mouth against your core, kissing against the wet patch of your panties that’s driving him so wild. Pleasure flutters in your pussy, your hole clenching around nothing as Eddie opens his mouth and grips the material of your panties with his teeth. As quick as he grabbed them, he lets them go, letting the wet lace smack back against your clit. 
“God, I need you,” Eddie growls. 
Calloused fingers work themselves up the outside of your thighs and grip the purple material at your hips. You arch your back, head resting against the bathroom mirror, to assist your boyfriend in ridding you of your underwear, which he shoves into the back pocket of his pants. 
Now with nothing between him and your soaked pussy, Eddie eyes it greedily and the way he stares at your bare sex turns you on even more. You choke on a breath as he dives in, tongue instantly running from your hole up to your clit. He decides to keep his attention there, flicking the sensitive nub with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. 
“Fuck,” you moan. Eddie’s responding moan reverberates up your core, adding another layer of pleasure to his mouth on you. 
He hitches your left leg over his shoulder to open you up even more for him, going in to devour you like his life depends on it. His hot, long tongue glides through your folds as he licks at you, not stopping even for a moment to catch his breath–not giving you a moment of reprieve as his mouth works against your pussy like it was made for this.  
You never want this–him–to stop but Eddie’s too God damn good with his mouth for you to last long. 
“E-Eddie, please.” You’re not sure what you’re pleading for as you reach down and grip the curls on the top of the older man’s head in your hand. It takes all of your control not to rut your hips against his sinful mouth. 
Even though you’re not sure what you’re asking for, Eddie somehow knows what you need—he always does. He slips a finger inside of you, quickly followed by a second, as he keeps his mouth working on your clit. His eyes are trained on yours, not breaking contact for a second as his tongue laps at your clit and his fingers pump in and out of your greedy pussy.
If the feeling alone wasn’t about to bring you over the edge, the sight before you was.
“Oh, I’m gonna, I-I’m gonna–”
You don’t have time to finish your thought as your orgasm rushes over you, pleasure sparking throughout your body and leaving a tingle in your veins that only Eddie can give you. Thick fingers continue to work you through it, his tongue not giving up its assault on your clit until he’s wrung every ounce of ecstasy he can from you.
Once your muscles relax and you’re panting above him, Eddie slips his fingers from inside of you and stands up. He wastes no time slipping them into his mouth, moaning as he savors the taste of you. You’d come again just from that if you had the energy. 
“Eddie,” you whisper between labored breaths.
“I love how much you say my name,” your boyfriend says as he leans over your body and presses his lips against yours. 
The sound of Eddie’s zipper being pulled down shoots a thrill of excitement through you as the two of you exchange easy, lazy kisses. His hard cock nudging at your hole has you breaking your mouth away from his, a whimper tumbling from your lips. 
“Yes,” you whine, the only word in your otherwise blank mind.
His initial push into you has you gripping at his shoulders, throwing your head back, which Eddie takes full advantage of and attaches his lips to your throat. The deeper he sinks into you, the harder your nails dig into the back of the button up shirt Eddie wore just for the occasion today. 
“Shit,” Eddie huffs with a small laugh. “I’m not gonna last long, baby. Fuck, been hard since I saw you this afternoon. Couldn’t stop thinking about how bad I wanna fuck you since then. How bad I needed to taste you. Feel that tight, perfect pussy of yours squeezing me so fuckin’ good.”
You lift your head up to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes. 
“Even though m’not your college girl anymore?” you ask through your shallow breathing.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie growls, gripping your hips tighter and adjusting the angle that he pushes into you. “You’re my college graduate. My smart girl. My smart girl who gets so dumb on my cock, doesn’t she?”
“Uh huh.” You nod, your head heavy as the familiar pressure builds up in your lower tummy.
“That’s my girl.”
“So close,” you whine.
“Me too, baby. Come on. Be my good girl and come with me.”
One of Eddie’s hands leaves your hips and his thumb presses against your clit, making tight circles just the way he knows drives you crazy. 
“Fuck,” you groan.
“Let go, princess.”
“Shit, I-I’m coming!”
Eddie spilling into you, coating your walls with his warm seed elevates this orgasm as you hold onto your boyfriend for dear life. Lightning sparks everywhere his body touches yours and pure bliss washes over you like a wave on the surf. 
It takes a few minutes for the two of you to catch your breath. Eddie’s body hovers over yours and, if you’re honest, you’d be fine if he never moved. Eventually, he has to though, which also means pulling out of you. Though you whine at the loss, Eddie is right there to help clean you up and press sweet kisses to your mouth.
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.
“Mmm, I would hope so,” you tease, throwing your arms around his neck.
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Eddie has one arm draped around your shoulders as you walk down the hallway to his apartment door. He keeps pressing kisses to your temple and running the material of your graduation gown between his fingers. 
“What’re the odds the boys will be asleep?” Eddie asks when you’re one door away.
“Slim to none,” you answer with a bark of laughter. “It’s still light out.”
“Details, details.” Eddie grabs the doorknob and tosses the front door open, allowing you to step inside first.
But you don’t even get one foot over the threshold before your eyes take in the sight before you. A large banner reading “Congratulations!” hangs in the archway that leads to the bedrooms and the apartment is crowded with people. Your jaw drops and it takes your brain a few moments to recalibrate. Once it does, you spin around to face Eddie and swat at his arm.
“I told you I didn’t want a party!”
Eddie shakes his head, a shit-eating grin on his face, as he leads you into the apartment and closes the door behind him. All six Harringtons are here, Max, Lucas, and their daughter Tiffany, and Wayne with both boys, who look more mischievous than ever.
“Oh no, this isn’t a graduation party,” Eddie says. 
Nancy steps forward, a sly smile on her face, when you narrow your eyes at Eddie.
“Nope,” she echoes. “It’s an employee performance review.”
You stare at her for a moment, not comprehending her words.
“What?”
She can’t help but let out a small chuckle so Steve steps up to her side to help her out.
“You’re our employee, right? Watch the kids? So, we reviewed your performance and determined it was excellent.”
“Which of course calls for a party,” Nancy explains, gesturing to the living room full of people around her.
“And the fact that it happens to be on the day I graduated college?” you ask, tilting your head to look at Eddie.
“Complete coincidence,” he says with an innocent shrug. 
“Look, look, look!” Luke bounds over and grabs your hand, leading you over to the counter that separates the kitchen and the living room. 
A large sheet cake with vanilla icing and blue piping rests there, bearing the words “Congrats Grad!” in gold lettering.
It brings a smile to your face, but you smile even wider as you look down at Luke and then over at Ryan.
“Did you two know about this?” you ask.
“Maaaaybe,” Ryan drawls.
“I can’t believe you kept a secret from me!”
You pull Luke in against your chest and start to tickle his sides. He squirms, trying to get away from you as he howls in laughter. 
“Ahh! Ryan! Help me!”
Ryan rushes over and tries to tug his little brother out of your grasp, but you’re quicker. You pull the older Munson brother into your clutches as well and he becomes another victim of your tickling. They both shriek and try to run, but you cease your tickling to wrap your arm around each boy and press a kiss to the top of their heads. 
“You little sneaks,” you say.
“Can we have cake now?” is Luke’s only reply. He doesn’t wait for a response before posing another question. “Do you make a wish on graduation cakes?”
“What would you wish for, babe?” Eddie says as he walks over to you. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and you furrow your brow. “Would it be to fly like Mary Poppins?”
Your eyes widen as all the heat in your body rushes to your face.
“I’m going to kill my sister.”
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494 notes · View notes
upsidedownwithsteve · 7 months
Note
I’ve been missing summer Steve recently- anything smutty with summer vibes would be *chefs kiss*
18+
Even with your eyes closed the world was bright and a yellow-pink from the sun.
It was warm, almost too warm, skin hot and still damp from the pool and your bikini was sticking to you, leftover water droplets rolling m from your shoulders and down the slope of your back, hidden between your body and Steve’s.
The boy was behind you on the big sunlounger, a massive circular thing with a shaded canopy that Mrs Harrington had ordered from one of those television commercials. It was easy to hide in it, tucked away from the house and all its windows, not that it mattered.
Steve’s parents had been gone for days, somewhere in Europe, something about an anniversary trip. You’d found that steve had cared about the details even less than you did.
And now that he was sprawled behind you, his hand down your bikini bottoms as you lay between his spread legs, you understood why.
His chest was bare and still damp like yours, smelling like chlorine and sunscreen, his fingertips stained pink from the bowl of frozen raspberries you had shared after lunch. The same digits circled your clit, his knuckles stretching out your swimsuit bottoms as he played with you lazily.
You had your head tipped back against his shoulder, whining and humming when he touched all the right spots, his fingers sweeping up and down through your folds in a long, drawn out tease. He was grinning, you could feel it, a smile pressed to your cheek as he watched over your shoulder, groaning everytime you gasped his name and arched your back.
Then Steve was whispering, voice low and hoarse, a dirty murmur of dirtier words. Indiana summers were hot, but Steve Harrington was hotter.
“Good, baby?” He asked.
You nodded, eyes still shut, squeezed tight enough for white spots to appear behind your lids and your lips parted. Steve kissed your cheek, pressing his lips to your overheated skin as you twisted your fingers into his swim shorts, fisting the material when his digits spread your folds.
“I know,” he soothed, voice soft and cooing. “All I wanna do is make my girl feel good.”
697 notes · View notes
sideblogofthcentury · 2 years
Text
Steve was flipping through a magazine on Eddie’s bed when the thought came to him.
He looked over at Eddie where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor playing around on his guitar. He’d been working out some part of a song while Steve half-listened. He said Steve “helped him think,” whatever that meant.
Steve had realized he didn’t know Eddie’s name. Or at least, what it was short for. He’d become quite close with the older boy since the spring, since he carried his lifeless body out of the upside down, since El closed the gate and burned Vecna and the entire second world to the ground.
Steve didn’t quite understand how he felt about Eddie yet. He knew he really liked him, felt drawn to him, enjoyed his presence, his personality, his appearance.
Okay so maybe Steve knew more than he was willing to admit to himself.
Eddie’s guitar made an unsatisfactory noise and Eddie shook his head, rubbed his forehead in frustration, and looked up at Steve. He smirked when he saw Steve already looking back, and raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”
Steve rolled his eyes, letting the snark roll off his back. “Yeah, actually. I’ve been wondering something.”
Eddie raised both eyebrows this time. “Oh? I never pegged you as the curious type.”
“Alright, keep the sass to yourself, Munson.”
Eddie threw his head back and laughed, his curls falling behind his shoulders to expose his long neck.
Focus, Steve.
“What’s Eddie short for?”
Eddie’s light smile turned into a wolfish grin. “Trying to fill out the marriage license?”
Steve groaned and threw the magazine at Eddie, hitting him on the knee.
“Whoa whoa Steve, watch the baby.”
“See you’re clearly already married to that stupid guitar.”
Eddie gasped theatrically, folding himself around the guitar as if to protect it from harm. “He doesn’t mean that dear, you’re a very smart guitar.”
“Booooooo”
Eddie almost fell backwards with laughter. Steve couldn’t help but giggle a bit himself, charmed by Eddie being so proud of his own joke.
“Eddie.”
“Steve.”
“You avoided the question.”
Eddie chuckled, resting his forearms on the guitar. “Clever boy.”
Steve would be lying if he said his breath didn’t catch, if his heartbeat didn’t quicken, his entire body didn’t feel a bit warmer.
Yes, Steve would continue lying for today.
He shook his head. “Eddie. Just tell me. Is it embarrassing?”
Eddie smiled up at Steve, revealing nothing. “Absolutely not.”
“Then why won’t you tell me?”
“Now where is the mystery in that?”
Steve groaned again and fell back on the bed. “You’re so difficult. You know that?”
Eddie threw the magazine back at Steve. “I’ve been told a few times.”
Movie night at Steve’s, waiting for Robin to return with her popcorn:
“Edward?”
Eddie let out a sharp laugh. “No.”
Family Video, rewinding tapes while Eddie sewed a W.A.S.P. patch onto his new, non-blood-stained battle vest:
“Edison?”
Eddie recoiled. “What? Oh. No.”
Picking up the rugrats from Hellfire, leaning on Eddie’s van:
“Edmund?”
“Steve. Gross. No.”
Laying on the hood of Steve’s car at Lover’s Lake, stoned and looking up at the stars:
“Edwise?”
“What?”
“Edwise? Edwise Gamgee?”
Eddie cackled out into the night sky, echoes of his joy calling back at them from the trees. “Okay, who gave you access to Lord of the Rings?”
Steve shrugged. “I had to call in backup.”
Eddie rolled onto his side to face Steve, propping up his head on his hand. “You asked the kids what my name was?”
“Yeah.”
“And the best thing those little geniuses could come up with was goddamn Edwise Gamgee???”
Steve giggled. “They’re such nerds.”
“Absolute fucking losers, Harrington.”
They both laughed until they were out of breath, panting out steam in the fall Indiana night.
“No but seriously, Eddie? What is it?”
Eddie sighed, straining a smile as he stared up at the night sky. “It’s pretty fucking lame.”
“Lamer than Edwise Gamgee??”
That made Eddie giggle again. “No, I guess not.”
They sat in silence a moment, Steve patiently waiting, and Eddie gathering courage.
“It’s just Eddie.”
Steve turned to look at Eddie’s profile. He was beautiful in the cool near-darkness, the moon hitting his face at just the right angle to sharpen his features.
“Just Eddie?”
Eddie nodded. “Just Eddie. Nothing special or interesting or exciting. It’s just plain, boring old Eddie.”
Steve blinked.
Steve blinked again.
And before Steve knew it, he was taking Eddie’s hand in his own.
Eddie’s breath caught and he continued to look up at the sky, too afraid to meet Steve’s eyes.
“Eddie. I hate to break this to you, but I am pretty sure you are physically incapable of being boring.”
Eddie snickered and stopped himself.
“I mean it. You might be the craziest person I’ve ever met. You refuse to fit in to a box you’ve outgrown. You’re too goddamn stubborn to do what people expect of you. You stand up for yourself and people who need you. You’re kind and gentle with the people you love.”
Steve took Eddie’s cheek with the hand not holding his and turned Eddie to face him. “You are the most exciting, interesting, and special person I’ve ever met.”
And with that, Eddie had heard enough.
Eddie kissed Steve.
And Eddie did not stop kissing Steve until he was bent over him, knees straddling his waist and hands in his hair.
Steve gripped Eddie’s hips and pushed him back, pausing to catch his breath. Eddie panted above him and laughed down at him, his lips reddened and his eyes blown wide. He looked absolutely insane. Absolutely gorgeous.
“Hey Eds?”
“Yeah, Steve?”
“You never asked me what Steve was short for.”
Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “What is Steve short for?”
Steve panted a light laugh. “It’s just Steve.”
Eddie paused.
And Eddie laughed.
And Eddie couldn’t stop laughing for a very long time.
The next year, Eddie signed a Valentine card “To: Just Steve.” and “Love: Just Eddie.”
That winter, Steve arranged restaurant reservations under the name of “Just Eddie”
The following summer, Eddie got down on one knee and asked “Just Steve” to marry him, and when Steve asked “What about the law?” Eddie said “it’s Just the law.”
The spring after, Steve read his vows in front of his entire chosen family. His voice faltered as he said “You’re Just Eddie the way the sun is Just a star. The way the moon is Just a rock. The way the earth is Just a planet. You are my home. You are where I belong.”
Three years after Steve carried Eddie out of the Upside Down, Eddie carried Steve across the threshold of their tiny apartment in Indianapolis.
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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Hey bestie! I hope your day is going great! If you're open to it could I get some comfort from Steddie? I hate storms, always have and I unfortunately live in the Midwest. We are under tornado watch right now and could use something else to focus on. I wanna live vicariously through my beautiful Indiana boyfriends 😩. If you're too busy I totally understand. Thank you!!!
~😈
Hope your day is going even better ml!
cw: reader get anxious during storms
Steddie x fem!reader ♡ 717 words
You flinch when a piece of hail hits the window, and Steve tucks you closer against his side. 
Eddie shakes his head. He jiggles his keys as he stands from the couch. “I’ve gotta go get the van.” 
“No, no way,” Steve says, not for the first time tonight. “We’re all staying here.” 
“The closest tornado’s way off.” Eddie waves a hand, getting his boots from by the stairs and pulling them on. “I’m just gonna bring her here to take cover in your fancy garage so she doesn’t get fucked by the hail all night.” 
“So what, you think you’re gonna walk home and drive back?” Steve is incredulous. “Tornadoes can form anywhere, dipshit. On the road’s the worst place to be.” 
You tense as the winds pick up outside, and he tightens his grip on you as if he can contain your panic. You’re all holed up in Steve’s basement, the constant drone of the weather channel covering up the whine of tornado sirens outside. It’s probably overkill to have gotten out of bed to come down here this early—because Eddie’s right, the tornadoes are nowhere near you yet, you’ve only got the storm that the weatherman on channel 4 says comes before them—but there was no way you were going back to sleep after the sirens started anyway. Steve knows you feel safer down here, where the only windows are small and nearly at the ceiling, restricting your view of the outside to rain-pelted grass and occasional flashes of lighting. You get a bit freaked about this stuff. 
“Don’t go,” you say to Eddie, pleading. 
Eddie hesitates by the stairs, and Steve looks right at him as he says firmly, “He’s not.” 
The other boy heaves a great, dramatic sigh, kicking his boots off and tromping over to flop back down beside you. You’ve got your legs curled up underneath you, and Eddie lays his head on your thigh, looking up at you with his eyes extra big. 
“You’ll help me take care of the dents tomorrow, won’t you, hot stuff?” 
“Mhm.” You nod readily. Steve thinks you’d agree to anything right now if it’d keep him from going outside. 
He watches Eddie realize this, the other boy’s expression sobering slightly before he doubles down on the teasing. His eyes flick up to Steve. 
“Or I guess you could always pay to get any damage fixed, huh?” 
Steve scoffs, using his free hand to brush a curl away from Eddie’s eye. “Yeah, right.” 
“What? Is my old gal not in the budget?” 
“Your gal’s sitting right here.” 
Eddie’s gaze moves back to you, and Steve thinks he sees you going a bit shy as Eddie makes a show of taking you in. Good. You could use a distraction. 
“Nah,” he says after a minute, quiet in an intentional way that makes Steve grin and you squirm. “That there’s my girl. Don’t insult her like that, Harrington, I’m talking about my old gal.” 
You turn to hide your smile in Steve’s shoulder, and he and Eddie share a look. It’s knowing, contented, grateful on one end and shit-eating on the other, and because you can always tell when they’re conspiring without you you mumble a not-unhappy, “I’m too tired for flirting,” into Steve’s skin. 
“Liar,” Steve accuses fondly. You’re basically flirting with him right now, the way you’ve got your arm snaked around his middle, anxious fingers fiddling with the hem of his pajama bottoms. “Why don’t we just spend the night down here?”
“Ooh.” Eddie turns onto his side, getting comfier on your thigh. “I like it. Whaddya think, baby? We can put on a movie, and that way you can stay here and keep feeling Harrington up.” 
You sigh. “That’s not what’s happening.” 
“Sure.” Steve drops a kiss on your head, and when you try to let go of him he holds you close.
Eddie gives your thigh a conciliatory pat. “We’ve all been there.” 
“If we watch a movie,” you say, and Eddie grins at your obvious attempt to change the subject, “can it please be something not scary?” 
“Sure, honey.” Steve rubs your arm, shooting Eddie an apologetic look when the other boy pouts. “Your pick.” 
When the next strike of lightning flashes in the window, you don’t seem to notice. 
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fuctacles · 4 months
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What goes up, needs assistance coming down
For @steddiemicrofic "top" | 510 | G | no cw | established relationship | if you saw me post this earlier and delete it bc i pasted the wrong version, pretend you didn't | Ao3
Sometimes, when Eddie writes a particularly delicious twist in his campaign, he wonders how in hell he had repeated senior year two times.
But then this shit happens.
Because he's been in this exact situation before, and smart people are supposed to learn from their mistakes. Thankfully, Steve is supposed to get back from work any time now. Maybe he loves him too much to make fun of him. After Eddie bears the humiliation of calling out for him because there's no way he'll figure out Eddie's out here.
As soon as he hears the car pull in and the door slam closed, he yells out,
"Steve!"
The steps crunch on the gravel, rounding the house, and his worst nightmare comes true. Because he hears more than one pair of footsteps. Double humiliation it is.
"Eddie?"
Aaand that's Henderson. The last person he'd want to see right now.
"Hey, man. What's up?" he asks nonchalantly his favourite kid, who grins up at him.
"How about you tell me, huh?"
"Oh, because I'm on a tree?" Eddie scoffs at him. "Har har, Henderson, very clever."
His rescuer isn't looking very rescue-y either. He's just standing behind Dustin with a bemused expression, eyeing the ladder lying prone below the tree.
"Why?" is all he asks.
Eddie sighs and points to the coils of fairy lights he had dropped to the ground in his panic after the ladder fell.
"This so doesn't answer my question." Steve raises his eyebrows disapprovingly. "Henderson, put the groceries away, help yourself to the fridge. Your dads need to talk."
"Gross." Dustin makes a face but snatches the grocery bag from Steve. He turns back to Eddie while walking away. "Good luck!" He gives him a toothy grin. Eddie flips him off, but his eyes are focused on Steve, who's setting the ladder back up. Soon, they're at eye level, as Steve leans on the top of it.
"Why?" he asks again. "Why would you do that again?"
Eddie looks away, hoping Steve will postpone this interrogation until after his feet are back on the ground.
"I had this, okay? It's not as bad as the roof. If the ladder didn't fall—"
Suddenly, Steve's face appears in his periphery. His eyes are stern.
"You should have waited for me," he points out.
Eddie makes a face. Okay, here he goes.
"I wanted to surprise you. I saw how you liked the lights around the Wheelers' garden," he explains, hoping the heat over his cheeks is imaginary. Henderson was way too close for him to be humiliated like that.
Steve's face softens.
"Baby," he coos, leaning into his space.
"Please don't—"
Steve ignores him, landing a soft kiss on his lips.
"My sweet boy," he murmurs, and now Eddie's positive his face is red.
"Can you put me on the ground first, please?"
Steve gives him a boyish grin but helps him climb down the ladder without further teasing.
"Thank you—" he barely makes out before Steve's on him, peppering his face with kisses.
"The cutest metalhead in Indiana."
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justjensenanddean · 2 days
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Jensen Ackles | DC Convention, September 22, 2024, Main Panel Summary
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(FangasmSPN)
Jensen apparently filmed all night on Friday and flew straight here ??? does he sleep???? (x) JJ to her dad: I miss you so much I can't even function. @JensenAckles : I have a few more years of being the center of her universe #SPNDC (x) When asked what they would tell their 16-year old that wants a tattoo, @JensenAckles "A tattoo is a story. You should wait until you've lived enough life to have a good story." (x) Jensen: at 15 you don't have anything figured out yet so just tell her that (x) “There was a scene where dean gets upset and takes a crow bar to the car… and that hurt. That hurt Jensen. But they actually had a panel there so, just so you know, I wasn’t hitting… ✨her✨” (x) Someone asked if there’s a question that they’re like “ugh i hope they hope people don’t ask this agaINNNNN”and Jared said some of the prank stuff i could kiss him (x) Jensen did say tho that even questions they’ve been asked before they think on them over time and there’s not really an “oh no” question cuz we’re all so respectful and good about stuff and if there IS a problem they’ll be like “not answering that NEXT” (x) Jensen: My partner on this new show is 6’6. a 265 lb rugby player. I look TINY compared to him. Like a little baby boy #spndc (x) Question: "Is there anything you would like people to know about you?" @JensenAckles "I am not a good liar. Being an actor, you'd think I'd be a better liar, but I'm not. @DanneelHarris catches me whenever I try." (x) Apparently Danneel can always fucking tell when Jensen is lying lmfao she’s like “you’re AWFUL at that” (x) .@JensenAckles : I wish these communities of fans existed when we were young. I'm glad they do today. #SPNDC (x) Fan: I have anxiety and depression so i just need advice on how to handle it Jared: i seek professional help. i do! Jensen: I think you’ve already taken a huge step in just admitting it to a room of hundreds. know its a journey. It's not something that just gets fixed (x) Dream roles they’ve always wanted to play Jensen: batman. James Bond. Indiana Jones. and a Jedi. (x) Fan: *ask abt video games* Jensen: Dean would just kill dance dance revolution (x)
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myspacebrat · 10 months
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𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝…
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𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
★ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you leave your best friend and Hawkins behind your junior year to move to the city of angels with your parents, what your best friend Eddie never expected was to see you on the cover of the newest playboy issue five years later, and holy shit was he anything but disappointed.
★ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, no mentions of race, hair color/texture, or body size, readers nickname is angel, smoking weed, female nudity, male masturbation, angst, mentions of divorce, lots of fluff, 69, unprotected p in v, squirting, creampie.
★ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: as always thank you to my baby loves @xxhellfirebunnyxx and @take-everything-you-can for reading and hyping me up with this fic, love you babes dearly. Also, thank you @bettyfrommars for unintentionally giving me the name and nickname for this <333
★ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k
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It was a chilly autumn day in Hawkins, Indiana and all Eddie wanted was a carton of cigarettes and a bag of pretzels before making his way to the last place a twenty year old like him should be– high school.
“Welcome-... oh.” The older man behind the counter stopped himself from his usual cheerful greeting before groaning as he eyed the metalhead down.
One time…Eddie stole a box of condoms, one time two years ago and Stu the manager of the stop and go is hellbent on never letting him forget it.
Eddie rolls his eyes at the bald headed, beer bellied man as he makes his way down one of the small aisles, grabbing his usual bag of Rold Gold pretzels. His eyes scan the shelf for anything else he might feel like snacking on come lunchtime, before a loud horn echoes from outside making him whip his head around, brown waves falling down his back from where it was laid over his shoulders. He witnessed the tail end of a car who must've cut off another in the intersection, before his eyes dropped to something else. The words playboy catches in his line of sight, making him turn around fully, two heavy black boots carrying him over to the magazine rack that sits just underneath the big store window.
Two very familiar eyes stare back at him, causing him to harshly swallow, his heart beat kicks up in nervous excitement, holy shit!
It’s you.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
5 years ago
“Eds, can you please quit hoggin’ the joint?” You whine from your upside down position on his bed, head hanging over the side as he’s sprawled out on the floor, flipping through a magazine while taking quick puffs of said spliff. “It’s called puff puff pass, you greedy boy.” You pout, not realizing the affect such words would have on your best friend.
“Uh, yeah shit sorry.” He stammers as his eyes find yours, shaky ringed fingers raising up towards you as the zigzag rolled joint slightly quivers in his grasp. Greedy boy will stay on a loop in his mind later on tonight when he’s alone.
Eddie wouldn’t argue with anyone who said he was fucking dumb, because the dumbest thing he could ever do is fall for his best friend. That’s like the number one rule in a friendship and he just had to go and fuck it up, like he does everything else. But you’re you. How can he not fall for those innocent doe eyes? That beautiful smile that could light up even his darkest days– and that giggle, that giggle that sets his insides on fire, makes him wanna trip over nothing just to hear it, makes him wanna memorize even the corniest jokes just to go back and tell you later, while his chest is puffed out and proud he’d been able to make you cover your mouth with your pretty hand while a girly giggle bursts from between your lips. Yeah he’d done that.
But you’re you, the girl everyone wants. The girl he’s incessantly hounded about whenever he does a deal with one of those meathead Jocks.
“So… is Angel ya know, seeing anyone?” Steve Harrington aka king Steve asks as he passes a crisp twenty dollar bill over to Eddie before smoothing out his letterman jacket. Of course, it never fails.
“Uh, n-no I don’t think so.” Eddie says, shoulders deflating as he throws the bill into his black lunch tin.
“Good, good. You think you can put in a good word for me?” The honey eyed boy asks as he flashes Eddie a charming smile, the smile that made all the girls swoon over his very existence.
Well yeah Eddie could admit he was cute or whatever, I mean he has eyes. But he loves you and there’s just no way he’d ever “put in a good word” for anyone that wasn't himself.
“I don’t think you need my help getting into anyone's pants, king Steve.” Eddie bites, before kicking his legs over the rickety bench and trudging his way out of the woods, to the school's parking lot. He quickly notices you hunched over, leaning up against his rust bucket of a van, arms crossed as your head studies your dainty feet in your pristine white keds.
“What's goin’ on sweetheart?” Eddie prods as he now stands toe to toe with you, the stark contrast of his dirty Reeboks against your clean and proper shoes, causes a sad giggle to erupt from your chest. You slowly pick your head up and Eddie noticeably winces when he realizes your eyes are full of unshed tears that are so close to boiling over, ready to drip down your lash line and onto your perfect cheeks. “Hey, what's wrong princess?” The metalhead asks before bringing his thumb up to wipe the tears that have finally bubbled over.
“I’m moving… tomorrow.” The tears are now boundless, no end in sight as they fall freely.
Eddie feels light headed at your words, moving? Moving where?! He says as much in a strained but somber timber.
“California, can you believe that?” You scoff, moving to California in your Junior year of high school no less, sounds like an utter nightmare.
“California!?” Eddie all but shouts, “what the fuck? Why so far away?” He’s trying his best to keep it all together, he wants to grab you and kiss your pouty lips, tell you everythings gonna be okay and no one can take you away from him, but he doesn't, he tries to stay neutral and positive for you.
“Well hey, we can still keep in touch, right?” He chuckles, but the smile is nowhere near to reaching his eyes, it holds nothing but sadness and unspoken truths.
“Oh, Eddie.” You wistfully whisper before throwing yourself into your best friends embrace, two leather clad arms wrap around your body as he rubs little circles into the skin above your elbow, his head buried into the top of your hair– he takes in your scent as his last ditch effort to be this close to you, until it's eventually ripped from him. You smell like strawberries and cream and he’ll never be able to smell it again and not think of you, it'll be ingrained in his subconscious forever… filed away in that part of his brain that holds a box of the many things he loves about you.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Eddie couldn't believe his eyes as they scan the inside of the issue, you sprawled out in next to nothing on a questionable looking mattress as you spread your legs for the camera, fucking the reader with those doe eyes that had him lost for you, years ago. Of course he had to buy it, even as Stu rang him up with a knowing smirk on his face, that smug bastard.
So here he sits in that same van you were leant up against just five years prior, where you broke some of the worst news he’d ever gotten, thumbing through all the pages your beautiful body graced. God, you were even better than the you he conjured up in his imagination.
He couldn't help it when his cock began to stir against the rough fabric of his jeans, apart of him felt guilty but he knew he had to find some kind of release before he stepped foot into hawkins high. He refused to be the guy who popped a boner in class, he was already a freak he didn't need perverted creep added to that title– so before thinking too much about it, he made his way to the back of his van, plopping down on the small mattress that was placed back there for action that didn't involve just him and his hand.
He began unbuttoning his jeans, it was laundry day so he had no other obstacle to remove– his cock instantly bobbing out in front of him, hard and already leaking at the tip. He quickly turned to the page of you sprawled out on a similar looking mattress to the one he was seated on, before spitting into the palm of his hand and bringing it down to his throbbing sex. The glide was easy with the amount of saliva he’d used, building a rhythm as his eyes wandered over your beautiful curves. He couldn't help but to think about what you’d been up to these last few years, who you are now, if you still think about him at all… yeah fucking right.
God, he would have treated you so good if he had the chance, fucked that pretty little pussy until you were screaming for him to not stop, keep going, right there.
With his unused hand he brought the bottom hem of his shirt up and under his chin so he wouldn't make a mess on the only clean shirt he had in a three mile radius, but also so he could get a better visual, now picturing your mouth around his cock instead of his heavily ringed hand. The way your pretty plump lips would wrap around him, taking him all the way back into your throat as spit falls from the sides, your eyes watering as they look up at him. What did him in was the memory of that last moment he had with you when his nose was buried in your hair, strawberries and cream had his toes curling in his boots as his creamy cum dripped over his knuckles and down his silver rings, some even splashing onto his happy trail as low moans of your name left his lips.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
One week later
The last place you ever thought you’d find yourself, was back in Hawkins. But your aunt called your mother in a panic, she was going through a messy divorce and she needed to make this thanksgiving special for your two younger cousins who were more than likely going to feel the brunt of the new change.
So of course, you and your mom packed up and flew to Hawkins to spend thanksgiving in the little town you’ve tried so hard to leave behind.
Two days here and you already remember why you missed it so much, although you love the big city and all it has to offer you’re really just a small town girl at heart, always have been.
“Hey, there you are sweetie. Can you do me the biggest favor and run to Melvald’s? Your aunt is about to have a nervous breakdown over her cherry pie, it’s just not baking right…do you think you can grab a few?” Your mom asks as she leans against the doorway of the guest bedroom you’re staying in.
“Yeah sure, but it’s the day before thanksgiving, you think they’ll still have some?” You ask as you stand up from your lying position on the bed.
“Well it wouldn’t hurt to check?”
“Of course not.” You agree with a peppy smile as you assess yourself over in the mirror attached to the big dresser.
“Do you want to take her car?” She asks with a grateful smile.
“No, I could use the walk.”
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
You stroll down the bakery at melvalds, placing three pies in your little hand held grocery basket; cherry, pumpkin and pecan before turning around and making your way down a random aisle, but what you see or rather who made you stop quick in your tracks.
Eddie.
You haven’t seen him in five years and it shows, his hair is longer, shoulders broader but still wrapped up in leather. You stand there unable to move, unable to take your eyes off of your old best friend, the guy you had it bad for since sixth grade.
His head snaps towards you at the sudden realization he’s being watched, you see the futures on his face go from utterly confused to shocked in a matter of seconds. Brown eyes widening into large pools of chocolate.
“A-Angel?”
Angel, you hadn’t heard that nickname since your junior year. It was something you were predominantly called in Hawkins and were grateful it didn’t follow you out to California. But standing here now, listening to it fall from his perfect lips, you realize just how much you’ve missed hearing it.
“Eddie.” You clutch at the small basket in your hand, as you shoot him a bashful smile. You didn’t know what to say. “Hey, how ya been? Sorry I never returned your phone call and totally let our friendship disintegrate into thin air.” It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to him, but the pain you had gone through leaving him behind was too much to bear and in your young mind you thought it would be easier to quit him cold turkey, so to speak. Was it a shitty, selfish plan? Absolutely. But you knew the inevitable would happen and he’d get a girlfriend he was over the moon for and would brag to you about how much he knows ‘she’s the one’ and you just couldn’t take that blow to your heart. So you never called back. Put all your time and energy into school and new friends, dating here and there but never being able to fall for anyone the way you did for him.
“H-how have you been?” Eddie stumbles, trying to break the awkward tension. He can’t seem to look you in your eyes and you can’t help but to mistake his nervousness for anger, you wouldn’t hold it against him if he held some sort of resentment for you and your fleeting friendship.
“I’ve been okay, back in town for a couple weeks so that’s nice…” you try your best not to grimace at your words, this whole interaction feels so…different. You hate how you had once been able to talk to him about anything, to now have no clue how to speak to him.
You want the ground to swallow you whole.
“Yeah, um you look great by the way.” His eyes finally meet yours again, they hold contact for at least a few seconds before they shift down to your exposed midriff and the tops of your thighs that peek out from beneath your brown plaid mini skirt.
“Hey, I’m um well me and Wayne are having a pre thanksgiving dinner tonight, since he’s working a double tomorrow for ya know the holiday pay. Anyway, do you wanna maybe come by? He always asks about you.” His cheeks turn rosy from his rambling and the unnecessary information he’s now kicking himself for adding in there.
“Oh, um yeah. Yeah I’d love to!” The smile you beam up at him could bring him to his knees in an instant. The smile he beams down at you has your heart fluttering anew.
“Do you mind taking me to my Aunt Cindy’s to drop these pies off, and then we can head back to your place?” The basket sways in your hands as you hold it up in question.
“Yeah, she still lives in Loch Nora, right? 1310?” His remembrance of little details from years ago goes straight to your heart and maybe a tad between your legs.
You swiftly nod your head as Eddie puts the remaining ingredients for what looks to be Wayne’s famous Mac and cheese into the buggy, before you both walk side by side to the register.
The checkout process is silent as the cashier rings you both up separately, aside from the happy greetings and small talk from the nice lady, but you don’t miss the little glances Eddie shoots at you from the corner of his eyes, as if the next time he looks you’ll be gone. You can’t help but to think maybe he’s not so mad at you after all, I mean he wouldn’t invite you back to his place if he was, right?
The car ride to your Aunts house was filled with more silence mixed with the metal music Eddie had playing in the background while his fingers drummed incessantly on the steering wheel. It seemed to be more out of nervousness, as the side glances continued and if you weren’t mistaken you’d say he was looking at your thighs rather hungrily. You could feel that pull in your lower belly, that fire you used to get while hanging out with him as if you had to squeeze your legs together to get any sort of relief. Fuck, why are you torturing yourself like this?
After dropping the pies off and your mom quickly catching up with Eddie, you hop back into his van and head to forest hills.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
“Well look who it is. How are ya kid? Haven’t seen you in…what’s it been? Four or five years now?” The older man asks before bringing you in for a hug. Wayne was like the father you never had when you lived in Hawkins, as your actual father was always at work or bringing his work home with him. You couldn't help it when your eyes welled with tears at all of the memories you had in this trailer and with these two men who still seem to mean the world to you.
Dinner went smoother than you could’ve expected, the food was good and the conversation was even better. You all seemed to fall back into your usual banter, especially you and Eddie, it was almost as if no time had passed, like you never even left.
Finally after all the food and beer had been eaten and sipped, Wayne gets up from the table before slipping on his work boots that sit by the front door.
“Well, I gotta head out. You kids be good ya hear? It was nice seeing you sweetheart.” Wayne says before wrapping you up in another bear hug, and then he was off leaving you and Eddie back in that awkward silence, but not for long—
“D-do you still smoke?” Eddie asks as he nervously plays with his hair, wrapping it around his ringed finger then letting it fall back into place.
“Duh, you think just cause I moved to L.A. I stopped smoking? They’re even worse out there.” You say as you nervously shift on your feet.
“Well I just thought since you no longer had the best dealer in town, you’d quit or something.” Eddie instantly regrets his words and his weird attempt at flirting, but when you giggle and playfully roll your eyes at him that feeling dissipates from his mind completely.
“Lead the way, handsome.” You purr, causing Eddie’s breath to hitch. You had never called him cute or handsome before and now he thinks if he plays his cards right he may actually have a chance with you, whatever you were willing to give him he’d take with a smile on his face.
You follow closely behind him before he opens his door for you, standing with his back up against it motioning for you to go first, still the perfect gentleman.
The only light in the room was coming from the kitchen and the soft moonlight peeking in through his makeshift curtains, so you saunter over to his night stand and turn on his lamp, the yellow light causes you to squint your eyes as they adjust to the brightness. You begin taking in any new details not noticing much, before your eyes fall to his bed.
You and Eddie both stop in your tracks and now he’s the one who wants the ground to swallow him whole. How could he forget that there? How could he be so stupid? He wouldn’t blame you if you cursed him out, called him a freak and a creep and left. But when his hazy eyes find yours, he can see a smile forming on your lips but he can’t tell if it’s from flattery or if you're going to laugh and tease him.
“I um, I meant to put that up.” He admits as his face grows beet red, he rubs at the back of his neck as he tries to gauge any kind of reaction from you.
“Did you like it?” If Eddie hadn’t been watching your every move he might’ve missed the soft whisper of your voice. That question however caught him completely off guard, he could feel his cock begin to stir as you walked over to him, now almost chest to chest.
“Uh, what?” He urged as he shook his head from side to side, brown waves swaying back and forth with every move as if he hadn't heard you right.
“I said… did you like what you saw?” Your eyes are big and innocent, a pout forms on your lips as your hand reaches up to touch his chest. Eddie feels like he can’t breath, you're touching him and he can’t fucking breath because he’s thought of this moment for years, and its happening.
“I did, I r-really did.” He confirms as he licks his plump pink lips, before giving you a nervous smile as if he still couldn't believe this was happening.
“Did you touch yourself to my pictures Eddie?” You whisper as your hand moves lower down his abdomen, making your way to the top of his jeans.
“Mhm, yeah I did.” He admits, causing you to send him a salacious smile, fingers beginning to fidget with his handcuff buckle.
“Well I’ve touched myself thinking about you plenty of times, so I guess it’s only fair.” You shrug, slipping your digits under his shirt and rubbing them through the tuft of hair that sits just above denim.
“You-you have?” Okay, you have to be fucking with him now, there’s no way you have played with yourself thinking about him.
“I have for a very long time.” You admit, vague but the look on your face tells him you’re serious. You have thought about him like that and his dick couldn’t stiffen any harder in his jeans, if it tried.
“Fuck princess, so have I…want you so bad.” His hands move to your hips, first a gentle graze before his grip tightens possessively.
“Then take me, Eddie.” You whisper into the plump skin of his pink lips before they’re on you, soft and pliant. It starts off sweet and full of love before it becomes hot and needy, tongues interlocking with passion as you take in the taste of cigarettes and the sweetness of the marshmallows and brown sugar from the candied yams Eddie had shoveled into his mouth earlier, not typically your favorite but on Eddie it was.
You break the kiss causing him to whimper before quickly discarding your brown knit sweater over your head, throwing it onto some unknown surface in his messy bedroom. His eyes widen as he takes in your bare breasts as if he hadn’t been jerking off to pictures of them all week, but seeing them up close and in person was a different experience entirely. 
You bring your lips back to his, heavy breathes and moans fall between your mouths as Eddie turns your body slightly, knees buckling on the edge of his bed before you both fall back onto his lumpy mattress. A sharp gasp and that giggle falls from your lips and Eddie can’t help but to take in every crease and dimple on your face, smiling down at you as if he lived and breathed to make you smile, as if seeing you happy in turn made him happier. You know now, there is no denying that this love that is surging between your bodies has been there all along, you were both just too stubborn and self deprecating to see it. 
“God, you’re beautiful.” Eddie whispers into your cheek before his lips begin a trail down your jaw line and onto your neck, soft kisses that make you squirm and shift as if he’s teasing you, aching to see you break, to hear you beg him for more, more, more. 
But what flies out of your mouth instead, has him detaching from your skin to look back into your eyes and then down at your lips, as if he needs to see how you look as you mouth those words to him. “I love you, Eddie.” 
It drips from your tongue so earnest and sincere that it has him breaking all resolve, he swallows harshly, your eyes fall to where his Adam’s apple bobs causing your stomach to sink. You make a move to push him off and sit up before stuttering over your words, trying to assert some kind of damage control to save yourself from humiliation but Eddie doesn’t budge, you dare look back into his eyes scared to see what you’d find but when you do, you see nothing but pure adoration and love, it causes you to furrow your brows in confusion as you and Eddie stare into eachothers eyes, souls bare and ready for what follows. 
“I love you angel, I always have.” Falls so sweetly from his lips and you can’t help but to hold onto every single word tightly as if they’d float away from your mindseye, forever. 
It's what you’d always wanted to hear, he loves you, he’s always loved you. 
You don’t put much more thought into it before you’re yanking off his mercyful fate band shirt, throwing it off to land in the sea of clothes that would eventually become his floor. 
You eye his tattoos, new and old before slowly tracing them with your index finger. Eddie watches you with a deep set smile, the one that perfectly displays his dimples. He slightly jerks when you move on from the demon on his left pec and down to his nipple, lightly circling it, before bringing the pad of your digit to the silver barbell nestled there, ever so gently swirling as you pull a whimper from his lips. 
“Is it sensitive?” You ask with the ghost of a smirk on your face, already knowing the answer.
“Mhm, very. Feels really good.” He chokes out between huffs.
“Can I lick it?” The look on your face is pure desperation, how could he deny you something you're clearly begging for with your eyes. 
“You want to?” His face is full of surprise as if it’s the first time anyone has ever paid any attention to his nipples and you just can’t help but to think what a shame that is. 
“Wanna do everything with you.” You whisper before bringing your face closer to his chest, eyes on his as your dark lashes flutter up at him, lips pressed together before you give his nipple a quick blow of cool air, his eyes shut as he hums in delight. 
“Need an answer before I put my tongue on you, pretty boy.” Words dripping with mock confidence as your insides flutter with nerves. 
“Yes baby, you can lick me wherever you want.” He rushes out, so needy for whatever you’re willing to give him.
Without another thought you flick your tongue across the pink bud and silver jewelry before wrapping your lips around it, giving one good suck before you move on to his other nipple, both decorated and equally making you drip between your thighs. 
“Oh fuck, that feels…so good.” Eddie hums as his eyes shut tight, enjoying the sensation you’re bringing him, he jerks his hips in anticipation and the rough denim catches on your clit, a moan bubbles up and out of your throat as he continues his movements, his hungry eyes moving down towards where your lower half meets his, your white cotton panties on full display for him as they perfectly outline your lower lips, wet patch glistening in the low light of his room. He half expected you to wear some little lace number but something about the white cotton brings him back to the nights he’d stay over at your house when your parents were out of town. He’d catch a glimpse of them in your hamper and it took every ounce of him not to look, not to touch, not to smell but goddamn did he want to.
“Already so wet for me.” The words sink into your skin as he places kisses around your neck, desperately trying to stave off marking you as his, at least not until you’re asking, begging.
“Just need you inside me Ed’s.” You whine as you now begin to rock your hips into his, bodies moving and rutting into each other in tandem as moans fill the stale air of his bedroom. 
“No baby, not yet…no need to rush, we have all night.” His voice is deep and husky as he throws you a wink before swiftly peeling your panties down your lower body, leaving them to dangle off of your right foot as if he was just too desperate to fully remove them, you clench around nothing at the thought and Eddie doesn’t miss it as he looks down onto your pussy with complete wonder in his eyes.
“She’s so fucking pretty.” He whispers, making your face heat up from the praise of your sex, you wanted to squirm and snap your legs shut at the attention. Sure, you’ve done these types of poses for pictures as photographers, lighting directors and wardrobe designers looked on. But, something about being underneath Eddie and him looking at you, like really looking at you, made you feel so unbelievably vulnerable, like his opinion is the only one in the world that matters to you. 
“Want you to sit on my face baby,” his voice is needy, practically begging with his puppy dog eyes “want this pretty pussy to suffocate me.” He grits, the way he almost growls his request has a shiver running down your spine. You nod rapidly, allowing him to lay down before you’re swinging your leg over his head to nestle yourself right over his awaiting mouth. The first lick through your folds has you whimpering, hands falling to his chest just to have something to hold onto. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on your pussy is addicting but his tongue that dips out to flick over your clit and into your fluttering hole is down right diabolical, you can’t help but to move your hips side to side, giving him just what he wants as you bury his face deeper into your cunt. 
He’s enjoying every minute of it with the groans and expletives that muffle from his mouth, as well as the front row seat you have to the tent in his black denim jeans. 
Your curiosity was getting the better of you as you continued to eye his bulge; you needed to see him, taste him, touch him, so you lay flat against the metalheads chest, bringing your hands up to tussle with the handcuff buckle Eddie was still sporting all these years later. 
He gasps from underneath you, his hands moving from your hips down to the globes of your ass, taking handfuls as you unbutton and unzip his jeans— you hear a faint “oh fuck” when you begin pulling both denim and plaid polyester down to gather at his knees. His cock springs up, hitting his stomach in an almost comical way that makes you wanna giggle, his tip is cherry red, blue veins run along the sides and clear beads of precum bubble out of the slit. He’s big and pretty, so pretty. 
You take him into your hand, touching it as if it were some kind of delicacy, you want to memorize every vain, every ridge and dip as your hands enclose around it. You squeeze around the base creating more beads making the others drip over and down the mushroom tip. 
You can’t take it anymore as your mouth waters with hunger, you take him between your lips licking and sucking at the flushed skin before moving further down and burying him deep in your throat. 
“Mmff.” The vibrations from his groans make you shudder as you continue to bob your head, creating a steady pace as you cup his balls and use your unoccupied hand to twist on his shaft. 
Eddie gives a quick slap to your ass cheek before he’s tapping your leg which you take as your signal to get off, and you do. 
“Fuck angel, I need you to stop before I come down your throat.” He says as if it’s a bad idea, like you wouldn’t love to swallow every drop he gives you. 
He can tell by the look in your eyes that that’s exactly what you want, but he only has one place for his come in mind—
“I need to fuck you full baby, I’ll let you swallow another time.” He says in absolute glee as if he's silently preparing to give you what you want in the hopefully near future. 
Eddie quickly grabs the backs of your thighs, catching you off guard and making you yelp as you fall onto your back on the mattress, but once you’re laid flat he doesn’t let go, pulling you down so that your butt is almost hanging off the edge. His eyes are blown wide with lust as he grabs his cock and gives it a couple strokes before tapping the head on your clit, he throws you a devilish smirk when you moan from the action. 
“You ready princess?” The flushed look on your face and lustful gaze would’ve been enough of an answer, but Eddie had to wait for any kind of verbal confirmation before proceeding, “mhm, very.” You finally speak up, voice demure but the look in your eyes still shined with glazed over desire. 
“Hold onto me baby, want you close.” Eddie whispered as his tip began to sheathe itself inside of your drenched hole. 
Your hands instantly went to the nape of Eddie’s neck, before you began dragging them down, placing gentle caresses down his back. The soft touches and feeling of your tightness wrapped around his cock had his eyes rolling back and mouth agape in pleasure. 
He felt like a virgin with you, nervous like he was going to blow his load entirely too fast but also scared to make one wrong move, he didn’t want to fuck anything up. He never had to worry about this kind of stuff; as far as Eddie was concerned, chicks came and went and he never had to make any kind of impressions to make them stay, you were different and that fucking terrified him. 
But once you rub your nose on his like a cute little kitten and bat your lashes up at him as if to tell him he could push in further, all those debilitating thoughts leave his mind, giving over to you; your scent that fucking strawberries and cream, your taste of slight cigarettes that he knew was from him; that thought drove him wild, and the sight of your beautiful lips open in a perfect “o” from the overt satisfaction he was bringing you. 
One last thrust had his cock completely buried inside your walls, wet and already gripping him like a vice, he wasn't going to last long with all the sensations you were bringing him. It had his head spinning, making him so fucking dizzy with lust. 
In his determination to get you as close as he was, he stopped his small thrusts to spit a glob of saliva onto your clit before roughly thrusting in and rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves, simultaneously.
“Oh my god!” you shouted with a feminine squeak, making Eddie smirk cockily all while thrusting faster while his thumb continued to form tight circles.
“Yeah, that’s it.” He growls as his brown doe eyes bore into yours, watching as you lose yourself to that overwhelming arousal that was burning in your lower half. Eddie swiftly lifted your legs bringing them to your chest, the new angle had him hitting that little pleasure button hidden deep inside of you, head on. Whimpers and pleads fell from your mouth as your legs began to shake so intensely, you thought they'd lock up for good. 
Your cunt was pulsating so fiercely around Eddie that he had to remind himself to breathe, everything felt too good and he could tell he wouldn't be able to hold out any longer, no matter what he willed his mind to distract him with. 
“Im so fucking close baby, come here.” He groans, bringing his arms underneath your body and gripping you in a tight hug before yanking you up so you were practically seated on his lap, all while he was still nestled deep inside of you; then began bouncing you on his cock as if you weighed nothing. You were babbling nonsense at this point, so close to what you could tell would be the most intense orgasm you have ever had. 
“Fuck yes, yes, please.” you moaned before Eddie captured your lips in a deep tongue filled kiss, heavy pants and mewls being passed back and forth into eachothers mouths making the whole scene so much more ardent and passionate. 
“Oh! I'm gonna come eddie!” So close to that precipice you could practically taste it, you bounced harder on the metalhead's cock making him throw his head back while whimpers were suspended into the muggy air above. 
“Good girl, that's a good girl. Gonna come so hard for me aren't you?” He had babbled those words with so much desperation that it made you hit your high instantly, with a gush of warm liquid falling over Eddie's hairy thighs and seeping deep into his mattress. A new stain added, that would commemorate this beautiful moment between two once love sick teens turned two head over heels, adults who were ready to give all they had to each other, a second chance to do what they should have a long time ago. 
“Uh, gonna fill you up baby.” Eddie's grip tightened around you as heavy grunts were spewed from his pink swollen and slick lips.
The come down was filled with cuddles and kisses, as Eddie pulled you closer into his chest holding you against him as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever had in his grasp. 
“You should be my date for Thanksgiving dinner.” You murmured as you burrowed deeper into Eddie's shirtless pecs.
“Mm, I should?” He responded with a playful lilt, as if he wasn't praying you'd ask him. You gave him a little nod as you bit at your lip, a hopeful gaze in your eyes. 
“And then after maybe we can talk about me moving back to Hawkins.” 
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T A G L I S T
@ahoyyharrington @hellfirenacht @joannamuns9n @uwantagoodbhloe 🖤
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werepuppy-steve · 10 months
Text
promise you forever
steddie ☆ 971 ☆ cw: none ☆ appalachian eddie ☆ ao3
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“phone for ya, eds,” wayne chuckles as he comes out of the house to the front porch where everyone’s sitting. “think your boy’s had one too many.”
eddie frowns and stamps down the worry bubbling inside him. steve rarely ever drinks anymore. doesn’t smoke anymore, either. not since starcourt. eddie slides off the porch swing where he’d been sitting with his aunt pep and goes inside to the wall phone in the kitchen, the receiver laying on the counter.
“steve?” he says, lifting the phone to his ear.
“country boy, i love youuuuuuuu!”
steve’s words are slurred, which doesn’t make eddie any less panicked. what happened? was he okay? eddie leaves to visit his family for one week and he can’t seem to escape the horrors that hawkins, indiana seems to breed every day.
“stevie? baby, you okay?” eddie tries to keep his voice from shaking.
there’s a laugh on the other line and steve flat out yells into the phone, “eddie! hi!” yep. he’s definitely drunk. eddie strains to hear any background noise that would give any hints as to where steve is at, but it’s silent.
eddie’s knuckles grip the phone. “where are you, sweetheart? are you safe?”
steve makes a grumbling noise, like he’s talking to someone else and eddie doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse.
“i’m fiiiiiine, eds,” steve says after another second of grumbling. “teds. teddy. teddy bear.” he starts listing ever iteration of eddie’s name, and eddie doesn’t want him to stop. if he keeps going, then eddie knows he’s not in immediate danger.
“dingus! stop hogging the phone!”
wait.
“robbie, i’m trying to talk to me boyfriend,” steve whines and there’s sounds of a scuffle and “no—hey—robin, it’s still my turn—!”
“hi, eddie!” robin’s voice is suddenly in his ear and sounding just as drunk as steve. jesus christ, eddie’s never leaving them unsupervised again.
eddie sighs and runs a hand down his face. “robin, where the hell are you? and why are you drunk?” these two are gonna finish what the bats started and put him in an early grave, he swears it.
on her end, robin groans. “dingus!” she scolds steve. “you didn’t remind him?”
“remind me of what, bobbie?” eddie asks. now that he’s sure the two of them are somewhat coherent and probably not in danger, he feels so fucking tired all of a sudden.
“it’s my birthday, doofus!”
well now eddie feels awful. steve reminded him before he and wayne left, but in all the excitement of seeing the rest of his family again, it slipped eddie’s mind.
robin continues, “and you, theodore munson!”
if eddie thought he was off the hook, he’s dead wrong. he’s never hearing the end of this now. it’s not likely, but maybe luck will be on his side for once and she’ll forget this conversation ever happened.
“you owe me a birthday breakfast, lunch, and dinner when you get back. and you have to buy me a present.”
eddie rests his forehead on the wall as a laugh bubbles up out of his chest at the ridiculousness of the situation. “alright, birdie,” he promises. “as soon as i get back, i’ll start right on it and get you the most expensive present i can afford.”
“it better break your bank account, munson!” she threatens, but eddie knows she’s bluffing.
“alright, birthday girl, can you put steve back on?”
robin yells out for steve. “you better not be doing any hanky panky on my birthday, dingus,” she warns before steve comes on the line.
“hi, baby.” he’s definitely still drunk, but he’s quieter, not yelling into the phone like he was a few minutes ago.
warmth fills eddie’s chest and he leans his shoulder on the wall, angling himself away from the door to give himself a sense of privacy in case anyone comes inside. “hey sweetheart,” he says just as softly. “you two having fun?”
he can practically see steve’s nod. “mhm,” he confirms. “miss you, though. wish you were here.”
eddie’s gonna marry this boy someday, just you wait.
“i miss you, too, sugar,” eddie tells him. “wayne said he thinks you’ve had a little too much to drink.”
“no i haven’t!” steve’s voice raises for a second before dropping back down again. “just had one… three… four beers, i promise.”
eddie hums, not bothering to hide the amused grin on his face. “uh-huh. s'at why you sound drunker than a skunk, right now, sweet thing?”
steve huffs and eddie wants so badly to kiss the pout off his boyfriends lips. “m'not drunk,” he says without any real argument.
“alright, i believe you,” eddie concedes. he can’t help but to let a little worry back in. he bites his lip. “can you promise me something, stevie?”
steve’s answer is immediate and almost shatters eddie’s heart. “i’ll promise you forever, teddy.”
eddie takes a breather to calm himself down so he doesn’t jump in wayne’s truck and make the five hour drive back to hawkins. “promise me you’ll call nancy if either of you start to feel weird?”
steve hums in his ear, like a purring cat. “i promise, baby. cross my heart ‘n everything.”
eddie grins and wishes he was there in front of him so he could touch him. “thank you. i won’t keep you any longer, then. i’m sure birdie’s getting impatient.”
“she’s always impatient,” steve huffs. “it’s her best quality.”
there’s no argument there.
“i love you, stevie. call me tomorrow when you wake up?”
steve sighs softly. “i love you, eddie.” he makes exaggerated kissing noises over the phone until he hangs up.
eddie hangs the receiver up. he’s here in his grandmother’s kitchen, surrounded by his family, but his heart has never felt as full as it does in this moment.
🥐☕💕 buy me a coffee? taglist: @yournowheregirl @steves-strapcollection @thefreakandthehair @stobinesque @vecnuthy @tboygareth @starrystevie @inairbinad @flowercrowngods @starryeyedjanai @matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @theheadlessphilosopher @sidekick-hero @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @wormdebut @legitcookie @corrodedcoughin @steddieas-shegoes @wynnyfryd
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strawberryspence · 2 years
Text
this one's for my cassie banana (@henderdads) who wanted a HAPPY grammy related ficlet. but because i wrote it, of course there's going to be a tiniest hint of angst. 🙄 ily and i hope this satisfies ur craving 💗🌷🏆
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As a gay, rock star in the late 90's, Eddie's had to keep his and Steve's relationship under the wraps. He's had to sing songs and change the pronouns from he to she.
In his heart, he knows Steve doesn't mind, knows that he understands that this is the life his boyfriend chose. But Eddie hates it, hates that he can't scream on top of his lungs, on top of the highest mountains, that he loves Steve Harrington and he, miraculously, loves him back.
As Eddie stares at the wall of awards in front of him, he thinks— knows— that not one of these gold, silver, bronze awards mean as much as Steve means to him. No award is as important as the love of his life.
People still remember the Grammy Awards on 2001. No, it's not because of the famous singers. No, it's not because of the performances. No, it's not because of their outfits.
It's because the singer-songwriter of rock band, Corroded Coffin, won their fifth grammy award and what they thought was a normal award speech would change the course of the industry.
Eddie walks up alone, accepts the award and smiles.
"Well, the band— Gareth, Jeff and Grant— has trusted me enough to do this speech without fucking it up." He laughs as he hugs the award closer to his chest.
"Thank you to the recording academy, our managers and our label, for the last 10 years. The last 10 years has been crazy and amazing and surreal. But just this morning," Eddie takes a deep breath, "We— Me and the members of the Corroded Coffin— has decided to move labels. Somewhere we'll be free to express ourselves and be out true colorful selves."
"So yeah, thank you for them and the chance. But this award," Eddie holds it up, "Is for every gay kid who was scared and who thought they were alone. It's for every gay kid who thought they will never, ever get to express themselves and thought they'll have to hide forever."
The audience starts cheering, people clapping and standing as Eddie smiles, bulldozes on, "This grammy is for little Eddie Munson, Gareth Emerson, Jeff Best and Paul Grant. Four gay kids, in the middle of Hawkins, Indiana, just finding each other. We're Corroded Coffin and we're the proof that you could also be free and true to yourself."
"To my boyfriend. Yes, my boyfriend. Every she in every song I wrote was originally an he. Every word and tune was meant to be for you. Sweetheart, baby, you are my whole heart. Steve Harrington, I fucking love you. This fucking grammy is for you."
He holds up the award as he starts walking back to the back of the stage. The people in the crowd give him a standing ovation.
Somewhere in New York, there's a boy, who once survived death himself, smiling and beaming so hard it hurts his jaw. He'll call Eddie later, and thank him for what he's done for people like them. He'll sleep peacefully, knowing that a few kids will sleep better tonight, knowing that everything is going to be okay.
Somewhere in LA, there's a girl, sitting on the couch with a cold champagne and confetti in her hands, waiting for Eddie and Steve to come home. She'll kiss both their cheeks, happy to have them both home. They'll drink, cheer and celebrate being out to the whole world.
But before that, just behind the curtains, a man is waiting for him, with the biggest smile on his face and tears streaming down his face.
Eddie greets him with a smile, and an earth shattering kiss on the lips.
"I am proud of you." Steve says, and Eddie melts in his touch.
"I can sing with boy pronouns now. I am going to be so insufferable." Eddie laughs.
"You go do that, be what the world needs." Steve laughs, hooking his arms with his boyfriend, walking deeper in to backstage.
"What about what you need?" Eddie asks, looking at the man beside him, the one who saved him and who's still saving him.
Steve smiles, holding Eddie's free hand and intertwining it. There's people walking around them, but they're in their own little world. For the first time, they're not hiding.
Steve holds up Eddie's hand, "I've got everything I need right here."
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theemporium · 1 year
Note
what about hockey!steve fucking rival captain!reader in the locker room🫣🫠😶
he makes me so😵‍💫thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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You shouldn’t have been in the Indiana University Boys’ Locker Room.
You knew that. You did.
You should have been in the locker room three doors down, the one that you had all to yourself as the only girl in the visiting team. You should have been with your team right now, debriefing the game and discussing the pointers your coach had made from the tight game, pointers that could have helped you win the next game after your loss against Indiana University. 
You knew that, and yet you still found yourself pressed against the lockers, cold metal against bare skin as you wrapped your legs around your biggest rival’s waist as he fucked you. 
“That’s it, honey,” Steve groaned, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as his lips danced along your collarbone. “Make those pretty noises f’me, tell me how good it feels.”
“Fuck you, Harrington,” you gasped out between staggered breaths and whiny moans. Your nails dug into his back, small half-moon dents in his skin that he would fucking adore tomorrow morning. He always loved the way you marked him up.
“Already am, sweetheart,” Steve bit back, lifting his head so you could see the cheeky grin on his face. It should have infuriated you, and maybe it still did. But it was hard to focus on anything except his cock drilling into you, hitting a spot inside you that only Captain Steve Harrington seemed to hit—and you hated that it was him.
It was a drunken mistake that just seemed to become a repeating sober mistake. 
But something about Steve Harrington made your body hum in a way no other man ever did. Whether it was when he was running his mouth on the ice or between your legs, something about him seemed to get under your skin in a way no other player ever seemed to do.
And even when you told yourself you were done with him, he would flash you that pretty smile and you’d somehow find yourself pressed against him again, naked and writhing and begging for more.
“C’mon, honey, tell me,” he groaned as he pressed a line of sloppy kisses up the column of your neck as your nails raked down his back. “Tell me how good I make you feel.”
“Shut up,” you whined as you threw your head back.
“That’s not very nice of you,” he grunted, his words condescending as he watched your eyes roll back. “I can feel you, honey. I can feel you clenching around me, fucking milking me dry and you can’t even be honest with me?”
A choked noise left your lips when his thrusts stopped, when the head of his cock brushed against your cervix and stayed there. “Steve—”
“Say it,” he muttered, raising a hand to lightly brush his thumb against your lips.
You shook your head, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy, but still ever so fucking stubborn.
“Oh baby,” he cooed mockingly as his fingers squeezed your cheeks together, as your pouty lips were inches away from his own. “You gonna be like that? Gonna give me some attitude?”
You stayed silent.
“C’mon, pretty girl, just say the words and I’ll let you come,” he murmured, his hooded eyes locked on your lips. “I’ll make you feel so fucking good, make you feel better after that loss, hm? Just gotta say that word.”
You glared at him.
“No?” He said with a teasing pout. “You want me to leave you here, all fucking desperate and wet?”
Your eyes widened, your nails digging into his skin. “Steve—”
His lips twitched upwards. “Oh, there’s my needy little girl,” he cooed. “She just wants to come, huh?”
You opened your mouth to reply, only for a pathetic moan to leave your lips as he thrusted back into you. 
“Just needed my cock, hm? That’s all my pretty girl needs,” Steve continued, his hands falling down to your ass to hold you against the lockers as he thrusted up into you. “Say it.”
“You,” you choked out in a whine. “Your cock. Steve. Please.”
“There she is,” he praised as he leaned down to press his lips against yours, to eat up every single one of your moans. “There’s my pretty little slut.”
“Fuck you, Harrington,” you gritted out between kisses.
His grin only widened. “My fucking pleasure, honey.”
.
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ladykailitha · 4 months
Text
I have decided today I am giving out my Steve Harrington headcanons, because I love him so much.
His parents are very rich. His dad is new money, self made. His mom is old money.
His father is Indiana born and bred, but his mother is from Kentucky. She doesn't have her accent anymore because she trained herself out of it. Though it does show up when she's drunk or angry.
I know everyone does Richard (Dick) for his dad mainly for the lols, which I respect, but I think his name is Clint. It's just rich dude bro enough, you know? And then for the mom I go back and forth between Maureen and Allison. Allison because that's Ally Sheedy's character in The Breakfast Club and I often use her looks as bases for Mrs. Harrington.
They were never meant to be parents. They had the one because that's what was expected of them, but no. They don't like kids.
I don't know if his dad is only verbally abusive, but he is some kind of shit. Steve was so scared of him finding out that there was alcohol the night Barb vanished that that was all that consumed his thoughts. And even in season 3 Steve tells Dustin (thinking he was his dad) that he doesn't do drugs, just marijuana. Meaning that's something they've fought about a lot.
Kids of good parents rarely smoke, drink, smoke pot, and have wild parties all the time as an under-aged teenager. There are no doubt exceptions, but most of the time it's kids who are neglected and abused that are the ones that act out like that.
Steve had nannies and baby-sitters growing up that he saw more than his parents. But he would still be taken on actual vacations with them. Mostly to show off that they do have a son.
He was in baseball in middle school but quit when he got into high school. His parents put him in as many after school activities as they could. He was taught piano. Went to swimming and was so good at it, he joined the team in high school. Played basketball throughout both middle and high school. But he was forced to dropout due to the concussion Billy gave him his senior year. It's why he sneers at Brenda at the game when she says it would ironic if they won the championship the year after he graduated. Because he wasn't even on the team his last year.
When he turned sixteen they gave him his BMW. No, he did not get to pick the car or the color, but he takes very good care of it. Does a lot of the maintenance himself. One of the few things his dad taught him, but because you needed to know enough to make sure your mechanic wasn't ripping you off.
He can cook. But only if he has a recipe to follow and will get upset if it doesn't look like the picture. Is a consummate baker though. Because everything has a reason it's done like that and it makes sense.
Definitely a fall baby. That's why he was able to lifeguard for three years even if he didn't lifeguard after his senior year due to him working at Scoops Ahoy.
He's bad at math and science which is why the Party teases him all the time, but he's great at English and history.
Only applied at the schools his dad thought were "appropriate" and didn't get in. But to be fair, he was still suffering from a concussion when those applications went out and he wasn't really at his best. Just above his worst if he was honest.
He likes his preppy clothes and while he laughs it off, it upsets him when he's made fun for it.
Alt rock fan all the way. Depeche Mode, The Cure, New Order.
Has a list of the Party's likes and dislikes for food and other things, so he is the best gift giver. He doesn't spend a lot of money, though he has been accused of that a couple of times. But he prefers well thought out gifts over expensive ones. It's why Max, Eddie, and the Byers boys love Steve gifts. They never feel pressured to one up him.
Complete romantic. Loves being in love, but it was hard to pick up the pieces of his broken heart after what happened with Nancy.
Loves Robin, but even though it is sometimes weird, it never veers into creepy or obsessive. Robin is absolutely the vodka aunt of the party to Steve's mom.
When Eddie comes into the group, they tease him that's he's the dad to Steve's mom. Because as goofy as Eddie is he absolutely wouldn't let the kids get into real trouble.
Steve the romantic gets absolutely wooed by Eddie and never is made to feel wrong footed when showers Eddie with the affection he would for a girl. It's nice for a guy to receive flowers sometimes too.
Steve favorite flower is sunflowers. But his favorite color is blue.
He absolutely keeps the vest. Refuses to give it back. Which Eddie is surprisingly okay with.
I could go on forever, but I'll stop there for now and if I come up with more I'll add them later.
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oneforthemunny · 1 year
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the original mafia!eddie blurb. how he and reader met <3
mafia!eddie munson who started moving weight with rick in hawkins like his dad did before. he swore he’d never be like him, be apart of this after what happened to his mother, but everyone’s gotta make a living some how. and rick’s boys are starting to supply to the majority of the midwest, chicago being their main route of business. bringing up far too much money to turn down. no one thinks to look in the middle of nowhere indiana. no one even knows about hawkins. it’s the perfect set up, eddie couldn’t refuse.
“it’s in your blood, boy,” wayne tells him, and from then on, his name is said with a hint of fear.
he’s laundering with the big names of the game, paying off hopper and anyone else who might be a threat. rick’s moved to another city, securing the route while eddie stays in hawkins, ensuring everything gets where it’s supposed to.
he’s the top dog, no one fucks with him. everyone knows but no one wants trouble, so they pretend they don’t know out of fear of one of his boys paying them a visit.
you’re new to town, nancy wheeler’s college roommate come to hawkins for a job at the bank here. eddie comes in one day, all black button down that’s left open, inked skin, and gold necklaces.
“hi, there sweet thing,” he purrs over the counter at you. most would cower under his stare. not you. “charles around?”
“do you have an appointment?” you ask, lifting a brow.
eddie smirks. “nah, baby, I don’t need an appointment. tell him eddie’s here to see him.”
you blink, unfazed by his slinky smile, narrowed eyes. “you can’t see mr. harrington without an appointment.” you give him an unimpressed look. “if you’d like to make an appointment, I can set one up for you-“
“-sweetheart, you must be new here.” eddie’s teeth grit slightly. “I know you’re new here, I’d remember a face like yours.” you blush gently under his grin. “me and charles go way back. I don’t need an appointment to see him.”
“eddie, was it?” you raised a brow. “I’m just doing my job. mr.harrington said no one was to come in without an appointment and as much as I would love to believe you two are old friends, I can’t just let you back there without an appointment.” you huffed, lips pursing in annoyance.
eddie’s eyes were trained on the burgundy gloss of your lips, how juicy they looked. his tongue tan over his bottom lip, fingers tapping against the desk. anyone else, he would’ve flashed his glock on his hip or walked back there ignoring her. but he’d play her little game, if for no other reason than to speak to her longer.
joyce stuttered out your name, a horrified look on her face when you turned, brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I’m so sorry, eddie, she-she’s new here. she doesn’t know yet-“
“-that’s alright.” eddie smirked, looking over at you. “she’s just doing her job. real good at it too. better than the last one.”
joyce let out a nervous laugh, glaring at you when she ushered him back. “she’s not from here.” she whispered to eddie, leading him down the hallway towards charles’ office.
“I know.” eddie grinned salacious.
“I’ll make sure she knows. I’m so sorry about this again.” joyce rambled.
eddie waved her off. “don’t worry about it. don’t go gettin’ her in trouble either. she was just doing her job.” eddie gave her a smile, but his glare was threatening. joyce nodded, watching his disappear behind the door with the frosted window.
when he returned, stopping by your desk, you turned, posture straight and attentive, a little tense. he could tell joyce told you something, what he wasn’t sure.
you assumed he was back to boast, brag and make you apologize for dare doubting him- for doing your job. instead, he stood, palms flat against the counter.
“I need to make an appointment.” eddie purred slowly. “I’ll be back in three days to see charles again. he got anything then?”
you faltered for a moment, looking down at your book, you flipped through the pages of the calendar, scanning a red, manicured nail down the pages- eddie wanted to groan. “how about at one o’clock? after lunch?” you suggested.
eddie smirked. “works perfect for me, angel.”
you penciled it in, already knowing his first and last name without him telling you. so joyce had filled you in.
“I gotta make an appointment with you too?” eddie asked, leaning against the counter. “or can I just ask you out?”
you blushed, surprised. you bit back a smile, looking down at the book to hide your heated cheeks. “that depends,” you quipped, leaning forward. “where you gonna take me?”
eddie rolled his tongue over his front teeth, smirking. “what time you get off? six?” he asked, you nodded. “I’ll pick you up then. take you anywhere you wanna go.”
“anywhere?” you repeated.
“anywhere.” eddie nodded. “wherever you want.”
you twisted your lips. “I’ve got expensive taste. that gonna be a problem?” you listed a brow.
eddie laughed. “not at all, baby.” he winked at you. “see you at six. I’ll be out front.”
your heart fluttered, gnawing at your lip.
six o’clock rolled around, too slow for your liking, and there he was. black, sleek, mercedes with a dark tint that had to be illegal. he opened the door for you, a gorgeous, obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers in the front for you.
he took you to novo dolce, an obnoxiously expensive italian restaurant downtown- your choice. you didn’t know that’s where eddie did most of his deals in the back rooms, and that are his heart only beat harder for you.
he pulled your chair out, opened the doors, ordered you an expensive glass of wine- more expensive than you would’ve ever ordered on a first date, but he let you pick your own entree. he listened to you talk about your hometown, your life before hawkins, how you met nancy and how will got you the job at the bank. you asked about him too, but his answers were short, ominous. it made you only more curious.
he held the door open for you, your hands wrapping around his waist to pull him close to you. you tasted the bourbon he’d drank on his tongue, leaving your head spinning, pulling him in for more and more, until he had you pressed against the cool metal of the car, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, hands gripping your hips.
you knew he’d be bad for you, by the way your heart raced when his ring clad hand gripped your thigh, pinky skimming closer and closer up your leg towards your heated core. it made your squirm. you knew he wasn’t good, your better judgements told you to run, but how could you? when he looked this good, talked so sweet, and tasted like heaven.
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