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steveseddie · 2 months

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love is stored in a can of hairspray

rating: t | cw: none apply | word count: 3,189

tags: eddie munson has a crush on steve harrington, eddie munson is a sweetheart, steve has a bad hair week and eddie comes to the rescue, fluff, soft boys, first kiss, getting together

for the @steddielovemonth prompt “love is going out of your way to do something you know will make them happy” by @forgottenkanji

a/n: i'm a day late for this one but in my defense i had a wedding yesterday and it was a crazy day! enjoy!

click here to read on ao3

***

There’s a reason why Steve Harrington was dubbed “The Hair” of Hawkins.

In all the years Eddie has known Steve or known of Steve, he’s never seen him have a bad hair day.

It doesn’t matter if it’s rainy or sunny, if he’s wearing a Scoops Ahoy sailor hat or if he’s walking down the halls of Hawkins High or if he’s fighting Demobats in the Upside Down after taking a dive in Lover’s Lake, Steve Harrington’s hair always looked great. Eddie doesn’t know how he does it. Well. He kinda does ‘cause Henderson is a blabbermouth who let Steve’s secret about the Farrah Fawcett hairspray slip one time, but Eddie still doesn’t understand how Steve always makes his hair look like that. He thinks there’s got to be magic involved, a deal with the devil so that Steve’s hair never looks bad.

That is until today.

Eddie arrives at the Wheeler residence and announces himself by ringing the bell three times just to be annoying. He waits for someone to come open the door for him, and in the meantime, crouches down to tie his Converse. The door opens while Eddie is still on the floor and the first thing he sees is a pristine pair of white Nikes that he could recognize anywhere.

“Well, well, well,” he says, tightening the laces and springing to his feet. “If it isn’t my favorite guy in all of Hawkins, I didn’t know you’d be- Jesus H. Christ, dude! What happened to your hair?” He blurts out the last part when his eyes land on Steve’s head. Or the thick untidy mass where his perfect hair should be, with strands matted on his forehead above his furrowed brow.

“Fuck you, man,” Steve grumbles and crosses his arms over his chest.

Eddie feels a little bad, but his mouth-to-brain already leaves so much to be desired around Steve on a good day-

Not that Steve looks bad. Eddie is convinced that he couldn’t look bad if he tried, but right now he certainly doesn’t look like The Hair of Hawkins.

“Sorry, it’s just-” He waves vaguely at Steve’s head. “What’s up with that?”

Steve groans loudly. “A bunch of my products are sold out at every fucking store in Hawkins,” he explains for what seems to be not for the first time today. “Been meaning to drive to the next town over to get them, but I’ve been picking up so many extra shifts at Family Video that I haven’t had the time.”

Eddie nods. Steve told him he was trying to save up money to move out of his parents’ house, but it was slow going, so he started working more shifts recently to speed up the process. He’s been seeing less of Steve because of that, which Eddie hates, but he understands the urge to get out of that house.

“That sucks, man.”

Steve pouts, pink bottom lip jutting out. “Tell me about it, I look-” he gestures at his head and trails off with a huff.

“It’s not that bad,” Eddie says, but Steve raises an eyebrow at him.

“Wheeler asked if a hamster died on my head,” he deadpans.

Fucking Wheeler. He’s gonna make him regret it during tonight’s campaign.

“Please, those kids wouldn’t know a good haircut if it bit them in the ass,” Eddie says, and Steve smiles a little. “Sure, it’s- different. Not what we’re all used to, but you still look-” Handsome, hot, beautiful. “You still look good, Harrington.”

Steve’s cheeks pink up slightly. “Thanks, Munson, but I don’t feel good, I don’t know. It’s just hair and it’s stupid, but I feel off.” He groans in frustration. “Whatever, I’ll just have to wait two weeks and then-”

“Two weeks?”

“That’s when I finally get a day off.”

Eddie blows out a puff of air. “Jesus, Steve.”

“Apartments aren’t cheap, man,” Steve says with a shrug. “But I think Keith might make me manager by the end of the month. That would bump up my pay a bit, I just have to, you know, show him I can do it.”

“You got this, Stevie,” Eddie says, patting Steve’s cheek. “No one rewinds and restocks like you do.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but his lips twitch up into a smile.

“If you two are done, we have a campaign to start!” Dustin says, appearing behind Steve and giving them both an exasperated look.

They exchange one themselves at Dustin’s tone, which they agree that he still needs to get in check.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re coming,” Steve says and Eddie tries not to jump in excitement when he realizes Steve is staying instead of just dropping off the kiddos. He’s been hanging around more and more during Hellfire meetings recently, even if he still doesn’t want to play. Eddie can’t complain about the last part, he likes just having him there.

He steps inside and Steve closes the door.

Dustin stares at Steve’s head.

“Quit staring, Henderson!” Steve protests and Dustin holds his hands up in defense.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just bad, dude.”

These fucking kids.

Eddie whacks Dustin upside the head. “Just for that, I’m making you roll with disadvantage for every attack you make tonight .”

Dustin’s eyes bulge out. “What! That’s not fair!” He protests loudly as they walk towards the basement.

Eddie suspects that Steve doesn’t know necessarily what that means, but he still gives him a grateful smile.

***

Eddie stares at the bag of hair products in his passenger seat.

He’s always been a whatever shampoo Wayne picks up from the store kind of guy, he’s never really spent money on hair products. Until now. And they’re not even for him.

He just spent a stupid amount of money on them, mostly because, even if he remembers how some of the bottles and hairspray cans Steve uses look like from using his bathroom when he stays over, he wasn’t sure which are the ones that Steve needs. So he bought a bunch of them.

In that moment, he wasn’t thinking about the money or how it might look to Steve that he knew what hair products he uses or that he drove to another town to get them. He was only thinking about Steve’s defeated look every time someone stared at his hair or commented on it, how he self-consciously tried to fix it at work every time a customer came in, how when they hung out at his house he would hide his hair under the hood of a sweater.

But now, parked in front of Steve’s house an hour before their movie night, Eddie does think about what he did- and he seriously considers leaving the bag on Steve’s doorstep and fleeing. It’s too much. It’s too ‘I have a big crush on you and I want you to be happy so bad that I drove to another town and raided the Hair and Beauty section at a store just so you can stop walking around looking like a kicked puppy’.

But at the same time, he did this so he could see Steve smile and it would be a shame to miss it. He just hopes that Steve is too distracted by having his beloved hair products that he won’t think too hard about what Eddie did, or what it might mean.

With a short prayer to whoever’s listening so that Steve doesn’t figure out his crush today and rejects him, Eddie grabs the bag and walks up the driveway.

He knocks on the door before he can talk himself out of it, and bounces from foot to foot while he waits, hiding the bag behind him.

Steve opens the door and when he sees Eddie his eyebrows shoot up in his face, disappearing behind the few hairs that hang over his forehead. Over the last week, Steve experimented with other products, and while he managed to make his hair look a little less like something died up there, it’s still not the same. “Eddie?”

“Hey, Stevie.”

He checks his watch. “You’re early. Actually no, you’re always late so being on time is early for you, you’re like, really fucking early.”

Eddie snorts. “First of all, I’m never late, I arrive precisely when I have to.” Steve rolls his eyes. “But today I’m really fucking early, as you so eloquently put it, because I had to do some shopping first and then I drove straight here. In fact, I come bearing gifts,” he says, hands shaking a little with anticipation.

Steve eyes him curiously. “For the kids?”

“For you, my King,” Eddie says, finally allowing Steve to see the bag and presenting it to him in the most dramatic way. Hinging at the waist, holding the bag over his head, the works.

“Eddie, what are you- wait, is that- oh.” Steve goes silent when realization hits and Eddie starts spiraling. He tries to make light of it. “I humbly present to you the magic potions for your characteristic luscious hair, your Majesty.”

But when he glances up at Steve through his lashes, he looks like he’s close to crying. For a moment, he worries that he fucked up- bought all the wrong hairsprays and shampoos and now Steve is mad at him-

But then Steve is grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and yanking him up for a hug where the bag ends up squished between them.

“Christ, Eddie, thank you,” he says against his shoulder, and Eddie feels a sense of accomplishment wash over him, as well as butterflies flying in his stomach from Steve holding him like this.

One of Eddie’s arms wraps around Steve’s waist. “I don’t know if I got all the right ones ‘cause I have shit memory, but I recognized some of the bottles from your bathroom and the lady at the store helped me find your famous Farrah Fawcett spray-”

He trails off when Steve squeezes him tighter. “I can’t believe you’d do this,” he murmurs, almost to himself, but Eddie hears it anyway.

“I had some shopping to do,” Eddie says casually, but it’s like Steve is squeezing the words out of him with his arms because he keeps talking. “And you’ve been walking around with your head low and those sad puppy eyes all week, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Steve pulls back and Eddie braces himself for Steve calling him out for overstepping or something, but instead he looks shyly at Eddie.

“I know it’s stupid like, it’s just hair and it shouldn’t matter that much, but it’s just- it’s important to me. I might not like “the Hair” thing but I am like, proud of my hair and this week I just haven’t felt like myself and people keep making comments and-” He shakes his head, a few rebellious strands falling on his forehead. “Anyway just, this means a lot, Eds, thank you.”

“Of course, Steve,” Eddie says with a smile. They stare at each other for a little too long, and Eddie starts fidgeting. “Now aren’t you happy that I got here so early? Gives you just enough time to get through your hair routine before everyone else gets here.”

Steve chuckles. “You don’t mind waiting while I fix this?” He gestures at his head, and Eddie shakes his.

“I can entertain myself just fine,” Eddie says, stepping inside when Steve sweeps his arm over the entrance.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon.”

Eddie grins. “Yeah, go doll up for me, sweetheart,” he teases and hears the way Steve’s breath catches, his eyes widening slightly and his cheeks tinting pink.

Then Steve moves in and places a quick kiss on Eddie’s cheek. “Thanks again, Eds,” he says and then he’s running upstairs.

Eddie stands there for at least ten minutes, red in the face, before he can make himself move.

***

Steve still hasn’t come downstairs by the time the doorbell rings so Eddie answers it.

Dustin is at the head of the arriving party and he raises an eyebrow at him when he sees him. “You’re on time,” he says, perplexed.

“And you’re a butthead,” Eddie replies and the other kids snigger behind Dustin. “Are you gonna come in or what?”

With an eye roll that is pure Steve, Dustin walks in followed by Wheeler, Sinclair and Max, and finally Robin and Nancy, who drove them all there.

Buckley narrows his eyes at him as she walks in. “Why are you on time?” She asks. “Unless you got here early so you and Steve could hang out alooone?” The way she says “alone” makes Eddie flush, which doesn’t help deny what she’s implying, even if it isn’t true.

Luckily, at that moment, Steve comes down the stairs and everyone’s attention turns to him.

“Dude, you got rid of the dead hamster finally!” Mike says and Max flicks him in the ear. Eddie smirks, that’s why she’s his favorite.

“He’s back!” Dustin cheers as soon as Steve’s hair is visible. Eddie smiles at the familiar look, but mostly at the way Steve smiles and holds himself, the slouch and the sad puppy eyes gone.

“There’s my handsome best friend,” Robin hoots and Nancy puts her thumb and index finger in her mouth and lets out an impressive whistle.

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, waving off their compliments and reactions as he reaches the ground floor. “Yes, the hair is back, we can move on now. There are movies to watch.”

He starts to usher them in the direction of the living room to get their movie night started now that they’re all here.

“Dude, I thought it would be two weeks before you could buy your hair things,” Lucas says, looking at Steve over his shoulder.

Steve freezes, his eyes darting to Eddie before he just shrugs at Sinclair, who probably doesn’t care that much about it because he just accepts that as a reasonable answer and follows the others to the couch.

The same can’t be said about Buckley.

“How did you get your hair products, Steve? ‘Cause I know you didn’t have them yesterday and you were working all day today.”

Their eyes meet again and Eddie gives a small shrug. They both know Buckley won’t drop it until she knows the truth.

“Eddie got them for me,” Steve says, mouth curling up in a smile that he directs at Eddie.

Buckley’s head snaps in his direction too, but she’s smirking, her eyes sparkling. “Oh did he?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“You drove to another town, spent time and money on gas, and then spent more money just to get Steve his hair products?”

“Yup,” he says, popping the ‘p’, trying to be casual, but he can feel the heat on his cheeks.

“How generous of you,” she says but it sounds a lot like, ‘I see you and your big gay crush on my best friend’.

Eddie’s eyes dart to Steve. With their platonic bond it sometimes feels like they can read each other’s minds and Eddie wonders if Steve can see what she sees. He flushes brighter at the thought.

“Come on, Nance, let’s get started with the popcorn,” she says, hooking her arm with Nancy’s and dragging her away, leaving Steve and Eddie alone in the hallway.

“I’m sorry about her,” Steve says with a light chuckle. “And listen I can pay you- for the gas and for the products.”

Eddie shakes his head. “You don’t have to, I told you, they’re gifts.”

Steve ducks his head shyly and a strand of hair falls on his forehead with the movement. On impulse, Eddie reaches out to tuck it back into place. There, now Steve’s hair is perfectly styled again. He smiles. “Besides, it was worth it.”

“Oh.” Steve licks his lips a little nervously and Eddie can’t help but track the movement with his eyes. “You- you must really like my hair,” he whispers, eyes wide and expectant.

Eddie considers taking the out, making some joke about having always admired “the Hair” or something like that, but he finds that he doesn’t want to. Not with Steve looking at him like he would like hearing the truth.

So, Eddie takes a deep breath and hopes that he’s reading this right.

“I do, I really like it, but it’s not just that. You could walk around with a hamster on your head or get a buzz cut like El, and I’d still like it. I just. I like you.”

A slow grin appears on Steve’s face. “You really think I would look good with a buzz cut?”

A nervous laugh tumbles over Eddie’s lips. “Out of everything I said that’s what you-”

Steve shakes his head, cupping Eddie’s jaw with one hand and effectively shutting him up. “No, I- I like you too, Eddie.”

He sighs in relief. “Oh, thank God.”

And then, he grabs a handful of Steve’s shirt and pulls him towards him, crashing their lips together.

The moment they touch, Eddie lets out a low whine before he remembers that the kiddos are in the next room and Buckley and Wheeler could walk out of the kitchen any minute. So he tries to keep it down as he licks into Steve’s mouth, even if Steve kissing back just as passionately should be enough to drag more noises out of him.

It’s not until Eddie’s hands start moving from his shoulder to his neck on the way to his hair that Steve stops him, his fingers grabbing a hold of Eddie’s wrist and pulling away just enough to speak against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie chases after Steve’s mouth with another whine.

“Jesus,” Steve gasps. “We probably should- If this week proved anything is that out friends are overly invested in my hair so they’ll notice if you mess it up with your hands.” Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. Steve’s fingers catch one of Eddie’s curls, twirling it around it. “But if you want, after everyone leaves you can stay and I can, you know, pay you back for this.” He gestures at his hair.

Eddie’s brain must be melting out of his ears from kissing Steve because he dumbly says, “I told you that you don’t have to-” before he understands the meaning behind the words when he sees Steve’s smirk. “Oh. Yeah. I can think of a few ways you can do that.”

The way he waggles his eyebrows makes Steve giggle adorably, but before Eddie can kiss him about it, Robin pops her head out of the kitchen, making them jump.

“If you two are done giggling like teenagers, come help with the popcorn before the actual teenagers start a riot.”

“Aye, Captain Buckley,” Eddie says with a two-fingered salute. This time Steve muffles his giggle behind his hand.

With the other, he grabs hold of Eddie’s and starts dragging him to the kitchen. The whole time, Eddie feels like he’s floating.

He’s happy he made the trip, he’s happy he got Steve his hair products, he’s happy his hair are back to normal.

And he’s even more happy that he gets to mess it up later when he kisses Steve again after everyone leaves.

#steddielovemonth #day 29 #i wasn't planning on writing more of these prompts but this idea came to me yesterday and i ended up loving it!#steddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #monse writes

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luffington · 8 days

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young master ♡

➤ summary: You don't worship the ground Doflamingo walks on, and it turns him on a little too much. (18+)

➤ pairing: doflamingo x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.7k

➤ warnings: kinda sub!doflamingo (he’s a horny menace), mild dubcon, possessive doffy, spit kink, oral (f receiving), masturbation (m receiving), degradation, name-calling

➤ notes: this takes place before dressrosa but i’m only halfway done with the arc so sorry for any inaccuracies! i haven't posted my writing online in years so please lmk what you think :3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Doflamingo was sulking. His signature smile was comically turned upside down and his arms were crossed over his chest. Feet resting on top of his desk as he leaned back in his plush office chair, crumpling the important documents strewn underneath them that he was meant to review and sign. He knew he probably looked like a petulant child, and he felt like one, too. This was all your fucking fault.

Even though you were only in your twenties, you were already a well-known Vice Admiral. Vergo had informed Doflamingo of your impressive Haki abilities months ago, but that wasn’t the only reason he kept a close eye on you. You were sexy as hell, even in a Marines uniform, and he delighted in every brief interaction he had with you at Warlord meetings. When you decided to take some time off, he snatched you up immediately with a tantalizing job offer. After all, working for him was technically still a Government job, and he was helping so many countries in need!

You made it clear from the very beginning that this was a temporary gig and you had no intention of permanently joining the Donquixote Family. You were his business partner, not his subordinate. He never planned on honoring that agreement, of course, but you were making his plans particularly difficult.

The man had hundreds of thousands – if not millions – of loyal and passive subjects. Obedient workers who never questioned his judgment and praised his iron fist, from the filthy commoners at the bottom to the Elite Officers up top. But not you.

You had the kind of effortless confidence that got under his skin. You were unbothered and detached from his evil antics, from him. He made his presence known everywhere he went and was always the focus of the room, but it seemed like you paid more attention to the damn servants than him. His threats and intimidation which made thousands tremble in fear hardly made you flinch. When he revealed the secret of Dressrosa’s toys in hopes of getting a reaction from you, you practically yawned.

You knew who he was. You knew what he was capable of. You didn’t fucking care.

You weren’t afraid of him, and this greatly disturbed him.

A few days ago, you had strolled into his office without even knocking on the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in annoyance, but you barely took notice. You were there to discuss your agreement in order to figure out a time frame of how long he needed you. He threw his head back and laughed loudly as he said, “That’s adorable. You really think you can get away from me, hm?”

Perceptive as always, you noticed the slightest twitch of his middle finger and immediately held an Armament Haki-coated hand in front of your chest, blocking the nearly invisible string flung your way. “Doffy, I’m being serious.”

He frowned and narrowed his eyes. Diamante used that nickname once in front of you and now you wouldn’t call him anything else. You thought it was cute. “Since when can you block my strings?”

“Do you really think I’d be a Vice Admiral if I couldn’t do that? You were so obvious about it, too.” You clicked your tongue, knowing full well that anyone less powerful than you wouldn’t be able to perceive his movement. Prominent veins popped in Doflamingo’s forehead but the blonde man stayed silent. “I think I’ll stay here for a few more months, at least. Maybe longer if I don’t have a terrible time here. Dressrosa is kind of growing on me.”

“You’re acting like I can’t keep you here by force.” Doflamingo interrupted your train of thought. “I could have Sugar turn you into a cute little doll, and then your Vice Admiral position would disappear. Or Giolla could turn you into a painting to hang on my wall.” He paused as if considering his options, knowing full well what he truly wanted. “Maybe I’ll keep you tied up with strings as my own personal pet.”

Many times he’d pictured you tied to the headboard of his bed, stripped naked and covered in his drying cum as he used you however he wanted. Perhaps then he’d finally ignite a spark of fear in you.

“If you actually wanted to do that, it would’ve happened already. But you’re the one who hired me, remember?” You acted like you were explaining something obvious to a kid. “If you try anything against me, I can always call up the Navy and tell them what you’re doing to your poor innocent citizens. Maybe even let them know your alias? Begins with a J, right?”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He snarled, sitting up in his seat immediately and binding strings around your wrists to keep them pinned above your head. You kept your eyes trained on his, a determined and almost taunting glint in them.

“I’m not a big fan of blackmail, so I don’t want to do that,” you replied in an even tone. “I’m just saying that I can. Now, are we gonna talk business, or are you gonna play cat’s cradle all day?”

Doflamingo should’ve killed you right then and there. That would’ve put an end to his confusing thoughts about you, but your conversation only made them worse. You were on his mind constantly, to the point where he couldn’t focus on anything else. It was an obsession, an infatuation, one completely unbecoming of a heavenly being like himself. People were meant to grovel at his feet and kiss the very ground he walked on – why the fuck were you not affected?

He finally had enough. He pushed the chair away from his desk and stormed out of his office. Servants hurried away in fear, knowing that his scowl and heavy footsteps meant nothing but trouble. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around his mind — he wanted to make you scream, to completely immobilize you with his power, to kiss you so hard you saw stars. No, that wasn’t it.

He wanted you to call him ‘Young Master’.

Doflamingo threw open the double doors to a secluded drawing room in his typical dramatic flair. You were alone, reclining on a couch and reading a book. Even this pissed him off – you were in a potential viper’s nest, surrounded by powerful people who could turn on you at any point, yet you didn’t feel the need to keep others around you for protection. You turned your head towards the intruder in confusion. His massive body filled the door frame and light from the hallway illuminated him and his feathery coat from behind, making him look like a fallen angel.

“What Devil Fruit did you eat.” It was a statement, not a question. His voice was a dangerously low growl.

“I already told you, I didn’t eat one.” You said slowly, slightly thrown off by his demeanor but still not afraid.

“You lying bitch!” He roared, using his strings to slam the doors behind him as he crossed the room towards you in three giant steps. “You must have some kind of mind control ability, or manipulation, or… I don’t fucking know! Tell me what’s happening!” He threw his head in his hands and crouched over, almost as if he was in pain. “Why can’t I stop fucking thinking about you!”

Your mouth opened slightly and you blinked a few times to process the situation, and then it hit you. A sly grin slowly formed on your face as you dog-eared your book and set it down next to you. You knew this man was incapable of love in its purest sense, but maybe… “Doffy, have you never been attracted to someone before?”

His head shot up and he narrowed his eyes at you furiously behind his sunglasses. Of course he’d fucking been attracted to people – he refused to settle for nothing but the best with his lovers. He had fucked enough sexy men and women over the years to form a small army. But none of them were like you.

They were all cheaply made toys, suitable for one or two uses then tossed in the trash when they broke or when he got bored. He was a greedy and spoiled child who always got what he wanted. But with you… it felt like he was staring through the front window of a shop at a shiny new toy. So close and so enticing but completely out of reach.

“Fuck you! I… I…” You would never know how that sentence was supposed to end, because he sunk to his knees and hung his head in frustrated shame. He slammed his fist against the floor hard enough to rattle the room. “Why won’t you belong to me?!”

The almighty King of Dressrosa, the feared Warlord, the powerful underground broker, was on his knees begging for you. He knew he sounded pathetic. He felt pathetic. But he couldn’t go a moment longer without getting what he wanted, what was rightfully his.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You had always stood your ground because you knew your worth, but sometimes you did it to purposely push the blonde man’s buttons since no one else seemed to have the courage to do so. But you were just teasing him – this was not the outcome you had in mind.

You slowly stood from the couch to move in front of him. Even bent over, the massive man was practically your height, but he had never seemed smaller.

“Doffy,” you began in a quiet voice and reached out to gently touch his feather-clad shoulder, but he slammed the ground again.

“I don’t need you to patronize me! I need…” he trailed off again and hesitated for a moment before realizing what he needed to do to calm the fire roaring inside him. Fine, he would give you a fucking reason to worship him. He threw himself at your midsection, making you yelp in surprise. He had finally drawn a reaction out of you, and it spurred him on even more. Rough hands yanked your shirt up to your breasts and he hungrily mouthed at the soft skin of your tummy, a frenzied mess of tongue and teeth and soft lips. “I need you. Give yourself to me.” He said breathlessly, punctuating his words with a sharp bite at your hip.

You were frozen in place but weak in the knees, unable to do anything but accept his bites and bruises. You’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined what his long tongue and nimble fingers felt like on your body, in your body. He nipped at your skin hard enough to bruise then soothed it with his tongue, sending heat straight to your core.

Doflamingo was in a drugged-like haze, mind clouded with a dizzying mix of lust and hatred and longing. He belatedly noticed that you weren’t resisting him when he popped the button on your jeans. When he looked up, he realized your cheeks were flushed and your gaze was trained on his long fingers dancing along the waistband of your pants.

He smiled wickedly, feeling a sliver of regained control. “You fucking whore. You want this, don’t you?”

“Doffy, you’re the one literally trying to get in my pants.”

“Shut up.” He snarled, annoyed yet allured by your sweet giggle afterwards. He yanked your jeans down to your ankles to reveal pretty pink lace panties underneath. They practically matched the color of his coat – you had to have worn those just for him. Might as well take them later.

A needy and unashamed whine tore from his lips when he saw your pussy. Even more perfect than he’d imagined all those times he fucked his fist alone in bed. He told himself this was what was necessary to crush that annoying ego of yours, knowing full well he was nearly shaking with pure carnal desire. He grabbed your hips hard enough to bruise and shoved your thighs apart before diving in. His tongue was ravenous, licking a sloppy stripe from your ass to your clit, mouth closing around the nub and sucking harshly. The sweetest moan he’d ever heard fell from your lips and he echoed it, eager to hear more.

Fingers tangled in his short blonde hair as you tried to steady yourself. It was too much all at once. You tried to tug him away to tell him to slow down, yet wanted to pull him even closer. Doflamingo flinched at the contact. Part of him wanted to tie your hands behind your back because how dare you touch him without permission. But instead, he groaned at the rough pull on his scalp, which went straight to his hardening cock. His grip on you tightened as he dragged you further onto his face.

His long tongue lapped messily at your folds then slipped into your cunt, shallowly thrusting the wet tip in and out. He laughed in delight at your delicious juices coating his tastebuds and making his head spin.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He panted and rubbed his nose against your clit, making you jump. A sloppy string of his saliva still connected his mouth to your entrance. “I think you like me after all.”

“I’d like anyone who eats me out this good,” you quipped.

“But no one’s as good as me, hm?” To prove his point, he shoved the entirety of his skilled tongue deep inside you. You threw your head back and whined as the wet muscle curled and twisted inside you, hungrily lapping at your sensitive inner walls. “No one will ever be as good as me. Say you’re mine and you can have this every day.”

“F-fuck, Doffy… so, mmh, good…” He ate you out like a man starved, desperately sucking at every part of your pussy he could reach. One hand moved from your hip, leaving dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises behind, and plunged into his own pants. He let out a deep groan at the contact.

“Call me Young Master.” Doflamingo breathed heavily as he pulled his pants down slightly. Your jaw dropped when he revealed his massive and fully erect dick, leaking beads of precum and bobbing against his stomach. You knew he’d be big based on his height, but this was inhuman. The blonde man noticed your hungry gaze and chuckled. “You want me so badly. Stop denying the truth and I’ll give you everything you want. I am a benevolent king, after all.”

You actually laughed at that, and he didn’t even try to be angry – being on full display for you meant he couldn’t hide the way your disobedience made his cock twitch. His other hand slithered between your legs and rubbed at your folds and the smile fell off your face.

You stumbled backwards – there was nothing behind you to lean on and your legs were quickly turning into jelly. “W-wait, Doffy, I can’t, ahh, l-let me sit…”

Two of his fingers moved downwards and bound your feet to the floor with his string. Immobilizing your bottom half like a statue but intentionally leaving your top half free to grab at his hair and body as you pleased. “Your king will grant you permission to move when I want to.”

“S’okay, I l-like seeing you look up to me for once.” Your witty reply was lost on the blonde, who had spread your folds apart and was hypnotized by your entrance clenching around nothing. You were so fucking tiny compared to him and he ached at the thought of molding your insides to take him and him alone.

Just one thick finger was enough to make you moan and pant, slowly pushing its way inside your cunt. “Shit, you’re so tight.” The soft squelches of your inner walls rang in his ears and pretty pearls of precum leaked from his dick. “Perfect fucking pussy. Give it to me.”

A second digit was soon added, scissoring you apart expertly. Unsurprisingly, the man really knew how to use his fingers. He crooked them and brushed against your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and hold onto him even harder. Sharp teeth playfully bit at your inner thigh in response. Doflamingo gathered some of the constant dribble of precum from the tip of his cock to lube his rough palm. He considered making you spit on his hand to ease the glide, but a better idea came to mind.

“Spit in my mouth.” He ordered, tilting his head up and sticking his tongue out. Waiting for you to follow his command like a good toy.

You were taken aback by the sudden request, but you gathered a ball of spit in your mouth like you were told… and it landed directly on the lens of his sunglasses, obscuring the vision of one eye. Doflamingo knew that it wasn’t just badly aimed. This was an act of defiance. You intentionally spit on his defining accessory, his very essence.

“You stupid slut.” The venomous insult came with a maniacally pleased grin. He pushed the stained glasses onto his forehead and you finally saw his eyes for the first time. Gorgeous and bright blue with lust-blown pupils. Looking at his beautifully depraved expression in its entirety, you briefly wondered if he really was an angel. His fingers sped up to a nearly brutal pace and he slipped in a third digit, causing you to choke on your spit. “Love me. Love me.”

A divine being who fell from heaven to beg at your feet.

“Y-you’re fucking insane,” you panted with a blissful smile, your cunt clenching down deliciously on him. “Make up your, mmh, mind.”

“Adore me.” He responded immediately. “Say you’re mine. Be mine.”

Even though you refused to respond, the blonde was lost in his fantasies yet grounded in the reality of your beautiful face scrunched up in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, hands nearly going numb from how hard you held onto him. He needed to see you like this every day – no, every hour. He could keep you under his desk like a pet, ready to suck his dick whenever he allowed you to. Or maybe you’d sit in his lap all day, one of his hands fondling your tits as he attended meetings and forced his subordinates to watch him play with his favorite toy.

But that was too mundane. He could snatch up anyone in Dressrosa right now and do the same. No, the twisted fantasy that really made his cock ache was already happening. That annoyingly sexy confidence of yours was threatening his godliness.

Maybe he’d make you step on him next time.

“Call me Young Master,” he begged again, too far gone to realize how ridiculous he sounded. Tongue hanging out like a dog (and panting like one, too), he rutted into his hand even faster. His cock was absolutely throbbing, red and angry and dripping precum. He was in no position to be giving orders. You stifled a giggle with your hand, which quickly turned into a moan as his fingers bumped against your cervix.

“I already t-told you,” you sucked in a few shaky breaths. He was watching you intently and still smiling, but his fingers never slowed down. “You’re not my –mm– Master, I don’t, ahh, work for you…”

“But why not?” He whined again. “At least call me it when you cum. I’ll fucking kill you if you don’t.”

You didn’t acknowledge the ridiculously empty threat, instead throwing your head back when his fingers crooked against your most sensitive spot. Slick was dribbling down your legs – Doflamingo licked it off of your thighs before slurping around his digits buried inside you. The blonde echoed your unashamedly loud moans, practically on the edge himself. He only needed one thing to send him into a rapturous white bliss.

He stared up at you unblinkingly, face frozen in a grin as he took in all the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm. Sweat dribbled down your forehead, eyebrows furrowed together, body tense and breath hot. “I-I’m gonna… gonna…” He crooked his fingers inside you the way he’d done thousands of times to turn people into obedient little puppets.

“Doffy~!” Your face contorted into the most divine expression he’d ever seen, crying out his name like a desperate prayer.

You ignored his order. You used that stupid fucking nickname.

He came hard.

The tight coil that had been building in his groin for days at the mere thought of you finally snapped. An animalistic moan left his lips as thick ropes of cum coated his hand and spilled onto his abdomen. He looked even more blissed out than you, panting hard and shuddering and nearly overstimulating himself with the hand on his cock still slowly moving up and down.

Doflamingo finally removed his fingers from inside you and loudly sucked them clean of your essence. Still craning his neck upwards so he wouldn’t break eye contact with you. You could lose yourself inside that piercing gaze, so full of obsession and hunger, especially when it was coming from a position of worship rather than condescension.

Blinking out of your stupor, you realized the blonde’s cum-coated hand was in front of your mouth. If you were anyone else, he would’ve shoved his fingers all the way to your throat and made you choke on it. Instead, he stayed still and kept quiet. This was an offering.

You grabbed his wrist and kitten-licked his sticky palm twice, humming thoughtfully as if appraising the taste. His grin grew even wider. Then you pulled away and teasingly said, “You take care of the rest of it.”

Doflamingo simply giggled in delight — you’d willingly tasted the essence of a god, one that was soon to be your god, but you were still too stubborn to give in. He didn’t expect you to crumble so easily and he didn’t want you to. He was having way too much fun. The blonde smeared the rest of his cum on the crotch of the pink panties still pooled around your ankles.

“That’s disgusting.” You huffed in annoyance and rolled your eyes. “What am I supposed to wear out of here?”

The man chuckled lowly and rose to his feet, suddenly towering above you at full height. He wiped the dried spit off of his sunglasses before returning them to their rightful place on the bridge of his nose.

“Who said anything about leaving?” You paled at the sight of his devilish grin but felt your core clench in need. “You still haven’t called me by my proper title.”

#mine #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo smut #doffy x reader #doflamingo #doffy #one piece x reader #one piece smut #my fics #donquixote doflamingo

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 months

Note

I just know when the Leona club card comes out, the Leona simps will start losing it

PLEASE 😭 I've already seen people lose it for the inevitable Club Wear Leona the instant we got the Magift Club uniform preview for Ruggie... IT'S THE SIMPS HONING IN ON THE POTENTIAL POWER OF LEONA IN A TIGHT BLACK OUTFIT AND A BELT SNAPPED OVER HIS CHEST TO PERFECT FRAME HIS PECS 💀

adgvkjvasdoasooeq I'm just over her thinking of Epel putting on his own club uniform and having to adjust the belt a ton because he's so small and flat compared to the other members on the team (I mean Ruggie isn't that muscular either but at least he has an average build) 😔 Poor lil' apple feeling insecure of how shrimpy he is and envious of the captain's tall, buff physique...

***Spoilers for Ruggie’s Club Wear Groovy below the cut!***

I think a lot of us had our fingers crossed that we’d get an illustration of Ruggie pulling off this crazy maneuver from a book 2 twistune/rhythmic:

But what we ended up getting was a banger too, even if it wasn’t what we were anticipating. The composition is sort of framed to give the illusion of Ruggie hanging upside down though! You can tell he's having tons of fun zipping around on the field and pulling the rug out from under his rivals' noses. He's so nonchalant about the disk whizzing by that close to him too 😂

It's really interesting for the Magift Club groovies in particular since it's a physical activity unique to Twisted Wonderland. Its rules and special equipment allow for a fascinating range of dynamic poses compared to the Basketball Club and Track and Field Clubs which we have previously seen. You can see this expressed in Ruggie's unique furniture animation as well!

A lot of attention and care went into this for sure. Excited to see Leona and Epel's Club Wears in the future!! I hope they have the same level of detail.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #Ruggie Bucchi #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #NOT L*ONA ROT #spoilers #notes from the writing raven #Epel Felmier

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caxde · 3 months

Text

pretty sounds | steve harrington x reader

summary you and Steve share an apartment while you're both away in Uni, after he had cought you touching yourself, he needs more of you (2.8k)

warnings fem!reader, 18+ mdni this is just smut guys i'm sorry. masturbation (f+m) oral sex (m+f) penetration (p in v) english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

there's a part 1, but it's not needed! this is basically just porn

“Mornin” His raspy morning voice woke you up, your eyes still half closed as you stumbled to the kitchen.

“Hi.” You had trouble speaking, the sight of him in the early orange light taking your breath away.

His basketball shorts hung low on his waist, you were certain he wasn’t wearing anything else, the beginning of his hip bones showing as he settled himself against the kitchen counter, giving you a warm smile, water drops on his forehead, his hair still wet from the shower that had woken you up.

His arms reached out to you, a mug of coffee in his hand for you, you nodded as you took it, an implied thank you that he smiled at.

Steve was feeling a bit more confident than he did the day before. Hearing you scream his name as you were touching yourself, unaware that he could hear you crystal clear. and loud.

Maybe that’s why he didn’t bother to put a shirt on, or maybe he just wanted to see how you reacted.

He chuckled to himself when he saw the way you flustered as you came into the kitchen, with your oversized faded shirt that you always wore to bed, and your hair a wild mess that he wanted to bury his hands in.

“Didn’t hear you coming last night.” You said as soon as you took your first sip of coffee, looking up at him, a cocky smile appearing on his face as he looked back at you.

“Yeah, I um…” His hand was massaging the back of his neck, a nervous tick of him you knew way too well. “I got caught up in the library. You had already showered I think.”

“Oh, yeah…” You were a bit embarrassed, thought it always seemed to happen when you had fantasized about him the night before.

Something was different, but you weren’t sure what had happened.

“Do you got any lessons today?” He asked, taking a step closer to you, your eyes not leaving his. Even if the temptation of not only looking but thristlin all over his body was a breath away.

“M’yeah.” Your words were still sticking together, still not awake, not even sure if this was all a weird dream. “Need to wake up first.” You added as you took another sip of the warm drink he had made for you.

“You’re really pretty in the morning, honey.” honey. that was new.

You weren’t sure if it was the fact that he had called you pretty, or honey, but you were turnin redded by the second. But if you were honest, it was the way his thumb had caressed your cheek and your lip briefly. Maybe it was the small moment his eyes had left your so they could look at your lips.

He left, back to his room.

You stood there for a minute longer after your cup was empty.

You left three knocks on his door, grabbing your towel tightly.

“Yeah?!” His voice had a tone of urgency in it, a quickness you weren’t used to.

“Um, I’m heading to the shower now, if you need the bathroom, go.” You talked to the wooden door, a bit closer than it was probably necessary, but before you could turn your back, it opened, a messy haired Steve appearing inches away from you, his eyes seemed softer lately, especially when they looked at you.

“I was thinking of taking one.” He gave you an upside down smile, and a weird look that you didn’t understand. His eyes looked darker, no longer like honey, but more like caramel.

“Oh.” You sounded surprised, and if your voice wasn’t enough, your widened eyes that had been left open gave you away. It was working, Steve thought.

“What?” His cheery tone made your eyebrows unforrow for a moment, as his arms crossed in front of his chest, his forearm gracing your skin for a brief second.

“Nothing, just… You never take night showers.” He chuckles as he hears you say it, nodding along to your words.

“We could share.” He adds, in a successful attempt to make you blush. Your skin filling up with goosebumps as those words reach your ears.

“Funny.” Your voice comes out drier that you intended it to, turning away from him, embarrassment already present on your body.

He noticed it immediately. The way you had clenched your jaw, the vein of your neck briefly appearing, your lips pursed together before you nodded. He felt guilty, he had been too cocky when all he was is a big idiot for you.

His hand grabbed yours as you were turning away, not too far away from him yet, turning your body so you’d face him, and he let his fingers linger on your wrist, a sorry look on his eyes.

“What?” He whispered, the softness of his voice washing the childish tantrum out of you.

“Nothing.” You whispered back, but the way his head hangs low, falling to his left side as he gave you that i don’t buy it look, made you realise with no words needed that he required a deeper explanation. “Just, why would you say something like that?”

Steve isn’t sure what he could do now, or what he should do.

He could tell you the plain truth, he heard you last night and he wants to be the reason why you scream in such a beautiful way.

He could stay quiet, and just say that he was kidding and that he’s sorry.

Or he could just kiss you.

That last thought invades his mind, how would you feel? How would your lips feel against his? Would you kiss him back?

Maybe that’s why, in that daze that we has in, your eyes looking up at him, with the smallest begging and the way your lips were parted, that the hand that wasn’t on your wrist finds its way to the back of your neck, and he takes a step closer.

You can’t quite believe it’s happening, not really.

Time seems to slow down. The way his head moves closer to you, your heart beating faster as you see him move, his muscles flexing as he does so, your skin getting warmer as your breathing becomes faster, your heartbeat louder. He stops for a second, his nose touching yours, as you enjoy the warmth that his breath leaves on your lips, the way it mixes with yours. Before you could even beg him to, he kisses you.

As soon as his lips grace yours and you enjoy the softness of them, the hand that was holding your wrist finds its way to the small of your back, burying its fingers there. Soft touches combined with the desperate need you both seemed to share.

Your hand moved to his jaw in a delicate way, too scared that if you moved too fast this might disappear, that it might not be real anymore.

You started to play with his hair, as he left deeper, needier kisses on your lips A moan escaping his, the way he sounded and most of all, you being the reason for it, it made your whole skin flourish, the electricity growing stronger each second.

He lets go of your wrist, both hands now hugging your waist, pulling you closely until your hips meet, his touch becoming a desperate one. Walking slowly back into his room, where the soft study light and the air filled with his smell only made your skin now with goosebumps, every inch were his hands touched your skin now in fire.

The heels of your feet touched the end of his bed, the coldness and the noise it made separating your lips from his. The deepest cheesiest smile on both of your faces, your foreheads still together.

Before you muttered a word, his fingers slipped between your skin and the sides of your thong, teasing you with the way he pulled on it. In a similar way, in your dazed state you started to play with the neck of his shirt. Your nose touching his, still not sure if this was real.

“That's why” Steve sighted with unfinished pleasure, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I really like you, Steve.” You breathed out, a confession you weren’t conscious you were making.

“I know.” He answered, finally making eye contact with you, your eyes shining brighter as his were full of desire. “I kinnda heard you, in the shower.” He added suggestively, teasing you as he giggled.

Your face became various tones of pink, as embarrassment found its way to you. You tried burying your head behind your hands, but he was quicker, instead he pushed his chest so your head would hit it, wrapping his arms around you.

“Oh no.” You chuckled as you couldn’t believe it.

“I’ve liked you since before that though.” He whispered into your ear, kissing your temple before he continued talking. “I just wanted to be the one touching you.” His breath brushing your ear, he smelt of the candles you had picked when you first moved in, vanilla and cinnamon. “Especially if you're screaming my name.”

“Do you still..?” He laughed, an angelic sound pressed to your ear.

He started to plant kisses along your jawline in response. A desperate whimper escaped your lips as soon as you felt his, needing more of him. All of him.

Your hands started to mess with his hair, pulling him in deeper, the kisses he left wetter, with a few bites that made you smile with pleasure when you felt them.

You grabbed the back of his neck, guiding him back to your lips, wanting to feel him again, needing to taste him once more. Before you were aware of it, your hands were messing with his shorts wristband, asking for permission that you already had. You smiled in between kisses when you felt his skin immediately, no underwear on.

You didn’t need to see him to know he was big, bigger than you expected. You felt a smirk on his lips as he pulled away for a second.

“That feels…” He was out of breath, his words knotted on his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more.

“Good?” You ask, as your hand slips back in, wrapping on his cock, his nails digging on your skin.

“Yes.” He moaned as his head flew back, your lips starting a trail of kisses that began on the back of his ear and finished on his stomach. He shuddered with each one, and seeing you on your knees just made him moan louder. “Fuck me”

“I’m trying.” You answered, a stupid laugh shared between the both of you, that stopped abruptly as soon as you started kissing him through the thin fabric.

His hands buried in your hair, caressing you as he guided you, begging you with his touch, a silent way of saying please eat me.

So you did, you pulled the shorts down, and started licking his tip, licking your lips seeing him from that point of view. Steve, with a crossed look on his eyes, already gone, already imagining how you’ll feel.

You opened your mouth wide, starting to fill your mouth with him, feeling him twitch as you did so. He needed you more and more as each time his cock entered and exited your mouth made you hungrier for him.

“Shit, honey.” He mumbled out, as he had trouble staying on his knees, the view that he had a perfect one. “You’re really fuckin good at that.”

His praise made the exact effect you knew it would have. Made you swallow him whole, feeling his tip on the back of his throat, as his grip became tighter around your hair.

He used it to pull you up, kissing you while he tasted a bit of him on your lips. With one swift movement your shirt ended on the floor, with another one, your thong joined it. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in a tight hug, as he sat you down carefully on the verge of his bed. He started kissing all of your body. He stopped once he arrived on your boobs, licking and nibbling at your nipples, leaving small love bites under one of them, as you exhaled in short breath in response. A soft moaning provocated by him kissing down your stomach. The coldness of his breath shocked you as he came close to your cunt, the wetness of it becoming cold when his breath reached it, before starting to kiss right above it, around it.

“Steve.” You whimpered, looking down at him, biting your lips as he looked up at you, a smile dedicated to you.

“You look so angelic.” He answered. “I wonder if you’ll sound it too.” He teased, right before his lips started to eat you out.

A sharp moan escaped your lips, as the warmth of his mouth invaded you, he knew exactly how to move your tongue, your hips already moving as he fucked you with his tongue. Your mouth was becoming dry, your lips parted as you couldn’t stop moaning, begging, or simply just whimpering with no sound. Your whole body felt on fire, starting with the way Steve made you feel, reaching to your lips where you wanted to be touched.

“Love…” You managed to whisper, smiling when you saw the way he did once he heard you. “I need you.” You cried out, happily when you saw him climb on top of you, kissing you senseless as you could taste your sweetness on his lips.

“Where?” He groaned out, as his hand caressed your whole body, too busy kissing every inch of your skin he could.

“Everywhere.”

He took that as an invitation, you felt the way one of his fingers opened you up, slowly. You did the same with him. Your hand wrapped around his cock once again, you were going at the same pace, if he fingered you harder, or faster, you did the same.

Until you couldn’t take it anymore. You really needed him.

“I really need you, Stevie.” He nodded, and left one more kiss on your lips.

He grabbed you by the waist, pulling your body in the middle of the bed. He took his cock, his fingers brushing yours, as he searched for your wet entrance. The first thrust was always the best one.

His body relaxed instantly, and so did yours. You melted into one, a release was made, he was inside, and once he looked you in the eyes, a is this okay? that you answered with a sincere smile and a nod.

He went in again. And again. And again. Your legs parting with every movement, wrapping around his waist, his body sinking deeper into yours.

“You feel… fuck.” He wasn’t able to finish his sentence. Your waist pulling up with his latest thrust, he could tell his dick was exactly in the right place, your walls closing down on him.

Light touches traveled down his back, as your fingers searched where to grab him, needing him deeper, wanting him more than you ever had.

He understood.

He grabbed your leg, pulling it up so it would rest on his shoulder. A cocky smile escaped his lips as he saw you groan with pleasure when he hit deeper, and harder.

He didn’t stop, the noise his body left when it hit you was engraving itself on your brain. It wasn’t the only thing.

From now on, when you close your eyes you can see Steve like that, enamored by you, his eyes only shining for you, his pretty girl.

“Keep making that sound, please.” He begged, once he started to hear the way you were running out of breath, trying to say his name.

“Steve, Steve I’m…”

“I know, honey, me too.” He whimpered, as he continued.

You wanted him to finish inside.

So your legs wrapped tightly around him, your nails burying deep in his skin, begging for him to stay doing the exact same thing. He kissed you again, and again. His wet kisses on your skin only made you even more overstimulated.

“Honey I’m-” You shut him up with a kiss, your right hand pulling his hair closer to you.

“Come, inside. Please.” It was the begging that did it for him.

Or maybe it was seeing you, your skin fleshed in pretty tones of pink, hair messed up by him, begging for him, needing him that made him a goner. He pressed tightly his body against yours, and came, as you had been doing for a while now.

His weight over your becoming a warm blanket. You stayed like that for a second, him still inside of you, as you cuddled on top of his sheets.

And the same question on both of your heads.

What now?

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inkykeiji · 13 days

Text

⋆₊˚⊹♡ alastor + dressing you

character: alastor warnings: 18+ for mature themes (no smut) minors do not interact, fem!reader, pet/master dynamic, toxic relationship (possessiveness; reader is nothing more than a silly little doll for alastor to play dress up with), implied size difference, a hint of blood words: 1.1k

Alastor is a creature of habit, a man of routine. He has his daily rituals, his rigorous schedules, his lists of tasks, all performed to perfection each and every day.

And Alastor likes to begin his mornings in a very specific way.

You know the procedure by now inside out, upside down, could recite it backwards, if he so desired you to.

By the time he wakes you, he’s already laid out your outfit for the day; intimates, dress, socks, accessories, all spread in an immaculate flat lay on his seldom-used bedspread.

You are always expected to adorn yourself with the garments he’s selected, to pull on each and every piece all on your own, fabrics lovingly caressing your exposed flesh as his gaze slithers after the material, leaving burning smudges on your skin.

But, of course, you can never do it all completely right—not like Master can.

Because it always ends the same, this little morning sacrament: with Alastor fussing over you—straightening out a bow, smoothing out a wrinkle, tugging up a sock, readjusting a sleeve.

There is always something wrong he has to fix, to make perfect.

And the finishing touch, the finishing touch is always for Master to add.

A leather collar, as red as his eyes and adorned with a heart-shaped tag, his name in an elegant scrawl engraved in the platinum. He’s always so tender when he fastens it around your neck, after he has thoroughly approved of your dressing for the day, more tender than you’d ever thought him capable of; more tender than he ever is otherwise.

It’s all just another way he claims you, degrades you, announces that you are his—his to decorate, his to desecrate, his to do whatever the fuck he wants with you.

That pretty little silver heart that rests so daintily against your clavicle, that rises and falls and glitters with each of your gentle breaths, will never let you forget that.

Today, as it is with most days, he has chosen a white colour palette.

Sitting in his usual armchair with his legs crossed, folded hands resting in his lap, he watches as you undress in front of him, left vulnerable and raw to his gluttonous glare. It stings, his gaze razored and slitting into your skin, prickling as it rakes over your unprotected form, leaving you feeling hypersensitive, overexposed, like he’s stripped away some fundamental layer and left you barer than bare.

Yet to the untrained eye, he would appear only mildly interested, possibly even teetering on indifferent, but you know him better than that.

You are not the untrained eye—not anymore.

You know that the glowing in his gaze is brighter, bolder and more brilliant than normal as he sharply catalogues every action—pretty silk slipped off, dainty lace sliding on.

You know that his pupils are abnormally large, having gnawed away at his irises in their attempt to consume the scene in front of him—a scene he’s witnessed a hundred times before; a scene he never tires of nonetheless.

You know that his smile, usually sharp and stretched, is a little bit softer around the edges, a little bit sweeter as it seals hungry teeth behind curled lips.

His chest swells and deflates with calm, even breaths, his unblinking gaze holding yours for a moment—in, out, in, out—and you stand still as a statue, waiting.

Such a good little pet he’s got himself.

He lets the moment linger for a little, basks in the exquisiteness of your obedience, allows that sweet suffocation of your compliance to grow until it’s nearly unbearable, until you’re struggling to keep stationary under his unrelenting stare, until the weight of it is crushing, compressing your ribs, flattening your lungs as you anticipate his approval.

Finally, he nods, and then, you begin.

First, the intimates; pure snow-white lace encrusted with tiny crystals, dainty material skimming your flesh in a faint caress, clinging to your supple curves as you fasten hooks and adjust waistbands.

Next, an ivory milkmaid dress, complete with cinched puffy sleeves and a sweetheart neckline, the corset top outlining the natural lines and bends of your torso, skirt flaring slightly at the hips and flowing into loose pleats around your thighs. Little white flowers detail the garment, embroidered in silk across the linen, blooming with each of your graceful inhales.

Then, a pair of white thigh-high nylons to garnish the outfit, adorned with tiny white polkadots, sleek and sheer as they hug your legs.

He doesn’t miss the ripple of chills that follow after his eyes as they glide up your body, trailing the curled knuckles hooked in the band of your stockings. Nor does he miss the delicate shiver that dances up your spine, or the tensing of your muscles as you linger in limbo beneath his stare, anticipating his next order.

No, he witnesses it all.

And he smirks, huffing out an airy snort, your frame flinching with the sound.

“Does my gaze make you uncomfortable, dear?”

“No, Sir, of course not,” you respond immediately; well-trained, obedient.

“No? Then why has your body gone rigid beneath my eyes?”

“I just—” you begin, faltering a little, a small frown on your face.

Suddenly, he rises, stalking toward you calmly, both hands clasped behind his back. That infamous collar, held securely in his grasp, jingles with each of his steps, such a delicate sound for something so sinister.

Stopping an inch or two from your face, your head snaps up, the motion instinctual, eyes wide and subservient—searching for guidance, awaiting your orders like the good little girl you are.

A palm wreathes around your jaw, points of his claws pressing into your cheeks as he forces your head up further, revelling in the soft pained yelp that hitches in your throat, tangling on a gasp.

“Do you feel like a piece of meat, on display for your owner?”

“Y-Yes, Sir.”

Crimson searches your face, slow and scrutinizing, lids narrowing slightly as his smile sharpens.

“Nothing more than a pretty little prize to be paraded around on my arm, proudly and in public?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Leaning down, he grinds his forehead into your own, inhibiting your gaze from fleeing his, neck bent at an unnatural angle as he looms over you. He stares at you for a moment, scarlet so bright it hurts to look directly into, so brilliant you’re sure it’ll leave sunspots blotting your vision when you finally look away, but you don’t dare to blink.

Slim fingers flex around your jaw, tightening, and his claws pierce your cheeks—shallow little pricks that’ll be unnoticeable in a few minutes, dots of blood rushing to fill the tiny dents. His tongue laves over each in a single, slow drag, wide and wet as it cleans the wounds and streaks his tastebuds with copper, sealing them with a thick salve of saliva before pulling away.

“Good,” he finally murmurs, the word a puff of breath wafting across your face, warm and woodsy. “Because you are. And Master likes for his things to look presentable.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor smut #alastor headcanons #inky.alastor #inky.hazbin

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jo-harrington · 2 months

Text

Standard Operating Procedures 1.06 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie’s your boyfriend. Now what?

Previous Part: Disaster Preparedness

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. First Dates and silliness, Sickeningly sweet fluff, miscommunication (not in a bad way), sexual tension, smut, allusion to oral sex, PinV Sex

Note: Here we go guys, the penultimate installment of SMVerse. We only have the finale to go. It's been a wild ride, I'm both ready to move on and give my other stories their attention, and also a little bit loathe to let my babies go. They can always make their little appearances in one-shots in the future if I need them back.

Thank you to @deathbecomesthem and @courtingchaos for looking over a few little things. Your insight is always appreciated.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"Do I show up with flowers?"

"Flowers?"

"What's that voice, you don't like flowers?"

"Not really."

How you got to become friends with Steve Harrington, you couldn't tell for sure. One day, he was just a frantic customer running around in a Scoops Ahoy sailor uniform worrying about cherry chapstick, and then suddenly he was sitting in your store once a week looking for relationship advice.

Like today, as he tried to figure out plans to win back his ex.

Or something like that.

It was hard to tell with Steve. Oftentimes you got a half-finished story, as though you were some omniscient being that was supposed to know the other parts already. Sometimes he'd be an apt listener with the patience of a saint as you gave him whatever advice you could, and sometimes, he would go off on a one-sided tangent, and thank you for something that you didn't even know had come out of your mouth.

He reminded you of Jimmy a lot, which was why you were as patient with him as you were.

It was fine; it was a Thursday in January and the holidays were over, that meant the mall was dead. You'd hadn't had a single customer yet and a mountain of shipment to process. He could stay as long as he wanted, as long as he kept bringing cookies as payment.

"Everyone likes flowers," Steve argued skeptically after a moment of contemplation. "You're telling me Munson hasn't gotten you roses or something?"

Speak of the devil...

The shop bell rang, a chain rattled, and leather squeaked, and before you could answer, your boyfriend--you were still giddy referring to him like that in your head--himself chimed in.

"If I was a jealous man," he started with an exaggerated glare at Steve. "I would say you're here flirting with my girlfriend."

You rolled your eyes at his antics and crossed your arms over your chest, both Steve and your menial tasks forgotten momentarily, but you giggled nonetheless.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. "Don't you have school?"

"I came to ask you a very important question," Eddie smiled conspiratorially. "But imagine my surprise when someone else is sitting in my spot."

"It's not your spot. And I'm giving him advice."

"Again?"

"He's hopeless, apparently."

"I'm right here," Steve exclaimed and got to his feet, ready to leave. "I didn't come here to be made fun of. I actually need help."

You were about to deliver a snarky remark to your friend when Eddie held a hand out towards you and led Steve out of the store.

The shop bell rang again and you sighed, lamenting your conversion for the millionth time.

You'd just bully Eddie into buying something small.

After a short time, Eddie returned to the store and approached you with a smug smile on his face.

"What?" you asked.

"Oh, nothing," he replied nonchalantly. "Just playing Cupid, that's all."

"Look at you, hopeless romantic." You opened another box and gleefully picked up a little purple jewelry carding that proudly displayed fuzzy red heart studs. You held them up to Eddie's face and squinted one eye.

"What are you doing?"

"Valentine's Day is coming up," you explained. "Trying to see if my resident Cupid here would look cute in heart earrings."

He slapped your hand away and chuckled.

"You know I would," he teased and then fluttered his lashes at you coquettishly.

"Does that mean you're finally gonna let me pierce your ears?"

"Mmmm, does Claire's have a lobotomy option I could consider first? Maybe next time, sweetheart."

"I knew you hated needles," you shot him a teasing glare. "Alright, why did you skip school today? Spill. What is this very important question you wanted to ask me?"

Eddie shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and rocked on the toes of his boots, then began pacing around nervously. Which made you nervous in turn.

"You know, you just mentioned Valentine's Day," he began. "And...actually yeah, they're starting to talk about a Valentine's dance at school. It's corny, they always do it. Paper hearts and cherry punch and sugar cookies and bad love songs.

“And the guys were asking if I was gonna ask you. Well, Henderson more than anyone. I think he has a crush on you if I'm being honest, even though he insists that he has a girlfriend in Salt Lake City, do you believe that? Little liar. Isn’t the whole bit that the fake girlfriend lives in Canad—”

"Eddie," you snapped him out of his tangent with a laugh, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. "Are you asking me to the dance right now?"

Ok, a high school dance...wasn't exactly your idea of a good time but...the idea was a bit of a novelty. They didn't have dances like that at your very Catholic, very-all-girls high school. Even prom with the neighboring boys school was...modest dresses and suits and a nice dinner at a banquet hall. No real fun, no real dancing.

Last time you really even danced with someone was at a party Jen dragged you to and then you ended up in a heated makeout session that maybe went a little too far. And wasn't remarkable.

To go to a school dance with Eddie...that would be so sweet and fun. A do over for some non-existent or downright mediocre experiences.

"No, I'm not actually."

Never mind then.

"But it reminded me," he abruptly turned to face you. "That we haven't gone out on an actual date yet."

"Wh...Eddie what do you mean?" you scoffed. "Did you hit your head? We went out on Christmas Eve. Dinner at Benny's."

Eddie had picked you up for work with a thermos of hot coffee that day, you both worked until the mall closed, and then went straight to the diner. The jukebox played Christmas carols only and Ben had two special holiday prix fixe meals: a classic Pot Roast dinner and then one with a little more Benny’s flair—Christmas Dinner style omelettes, candied yam hash browns, and hot cocoa with peppermint whipped cream. You and Eddie ordered one of each and shared.

But you were both so tired that you didn't even talk; you just sat on the same side of the booth snuggled against each other, dozing off and picking at your food until Benny came to wake you both up when he was ready to close.

When Eddie dropped you back off at home, it started snowing right when you kissed goodbye. It was the perfect date.

"I've decided that it isn't our first date," he announced.

"And why is that?"

"Because we didn't even say anything but 'fuck that guy wanting to make a return on Christmas' and 'pass the salt.'"

"You also realize that we've been going out every Sunday since last..." you paused briefly to think back. "May? First week of June?"

"Those don't count either," he shook his head resolutely. "In fact those were specifically not dates."

Funny, that’s how you always thought of them too.

You were about to give in and agree, about to tell him "whatever you say Eddie." He did make a good point and it wasn't like he was calling your relationship off, he just wanted another chance at a first date. What was the harm in that?

But he beat you to the punch, suddenly nervous under your scrutiny.

"Listen, I know it's silly," he crossed his arms over his torso and shrugged. "I just...want to get it right. Make you dinner, see a movie, I know you just told Harrington you don't like flowers but...a bouquet of cookies or something?" He reached over and flicked the bag of cookies on the ear piercing station. "Make you a mixtape, I dunno."

"You made me a mixtape already, Ed."

"Yeah but I want to give you the kind of mixtape a guy makes for his girl."

You melted at his words and fought the smile that threatened to bloom on your lips and butterflies that suddenly fluttered in your stomach.

"And what's on that one that's not on the other one?" you teased, intentionally obtuse.

"You know...ballads and...sappy love songs and..." He froze and you watched as he flushed prettily. "You're making fun of me."

"It's really fun to do," you told him matter-of-factly.

Eddie ran a hand over his mouth and then looked around. He leaned back to glance out into the mall, and then faster than you could react, he ran right up to you, cupped your face in his hands and smooshed his lips to yours in a kiss. You dropped the jewelry you were holding and covered his hands with yours; you took two little steps to get as close to him as you could, and sighed as he broke away to continue pecking at your lips between his words.

"You're a menace." Peck. "You're a trickster." Peck. "And I'm picking you up for a real date." Peck. "Our official first date." Peck. "On Sunday."

You were joined together once again and he paid special attention to your lower lip, sucking on it in a way that made your spine tingle.

"Hmmm," you pulled away, trying to ignore the heat that was overtaking your body. You were still at work, after all. "Sunday huh? I thought Sundays didn't count."

"Well they count starting now." He stole another peck and then backed out of the store. "You have a great day, sweetheart. See you later."

---

Everyone teased you for your entire shift on Sunday.

Mindy was the first, having already unlocked the gate and counted up the registers for store open.

"Oh lookie here," she whistled. "Miss Lovebird is all dressed up for her date with the wannabe-rockstar."

You did a little spin and a pose for her; not dressed in your Seventeen Magazine best, but something a little more comfortable--still a dress, just a little more you--so you wouldn't have to frantically change for your date.

Chrissy offered to do your makeup on break and then confessed that she had a first date fast approaching too.

"No more Jason?" you asked, trying not to sound too hopeful as she swiped eyeshadow on.

"No, he was kind of..." she sighed. "He wasn't what I thought he'd be like as a boyfriend. I don't think I would've had the courage to end things and go after someone I really liked if I didn't work here though. I've...gained a lot of confidence since being here."

"I'm glad," you beamed at her.

Stacey even apologized for all the jokes she'd made about Eddie before she left at the end of her shift.

"I know I give him a lot of shit, but Munson's actually alright," she sniffed uncomfortably, as though complimenting him was something she was allergic to. "That thing he did at Christmas...the Santa thing? That was really sweet."

"Yeah it was."

Finally, 6pm rolled around and the gates closed. The rest of your team went home and you were left counting down the registers in anticipation as Mindy gave you a talk very reminiscent of the Birds and the Bees that your parents gave you once upon a time.

Before you knew it, Eddie was standing outside with his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, and you flashed him a quick "five" to let him know you wouldn't be long.

"Ok listen," Mindy got real close to you know, hand on your shoulder, lips close to your ear as she whispered. "If you guys wanna do the ol' Horizontal Tango tonight--"

"What are you 75?"

"--at the very least do it in a bed and not the back of his van, ok?"

"I swear to god," you mumbled under your breath.

"Invite him back to your place. Light a candle. Ambience. Make sure you have condoms."

"Melinda!"

She started cackling.

"I mean, I guess you don't have to have--

"Utter one more word and you're fired," you pointed at her threateningly.

Mindy immediately held her hands up innocently and then dragged her fingers across her lips like a zipper.

As you finished counting down the registers though, you wondered if you'd only shut her up because she was crossing a line...or if it was because she was actually really good at reading the secret expectations that you may or may not have had for this date.

It was just a first date, nothing was gonna happen. You could think about all of that next time. But…what if…

The store suddenly became unbearably warm.

Before long, the two of you ducked under the gate and Mindy simply waved goodbye while holding back her laughter as Eddie approached you.

"What was that?" he asked, thumbing over his shoulder at her. "Everything ok?"

"She thought she was being funny, but instead she's just an asshole," you explained, trying to laugh off the awkward conversation and illicit thoughts that still lingered in your mind.

"Ah," he nodded slowly, his eyes squinted for a moment and you swore you saw the gears turn in his head. "Yeah...Kyle did the same thing for me too. You remember when I found out the kids had a bet against us? Apparently the whole team had a secret bet going too.”

"And Kyle won?" you questioned eagerly, glad for a change of topic.

"No, Paulie. But P gave me a cut, thanked me for being such a stick in the mud and holding out as long as I did."

"How much?"

"Fifty bucks," he pulled a roll of bills from his pocket. "Gave it to me today and told me to take you someplace nice. Which was the plan anyway, if you were wondering."

The two of you stood there awkwardly for a second before Eddie cleared his throat.

"You look nice sweetheart," he said with a nervous smile.

"Thanks, so do you."

And he did.

He had his leather jacket over a fitted forest green henley, with ripped black jeans and boots. You'd never considered green to be such a favorable color on him, his usual outfits consisting of blacks and reds and the occasional blue, but it was dashing. Brought out the glowing warmth of his eyes, the tiny honeyed flecks that often got lost in chocolate depths.

"I, uh, have something for you," he announced, fishing something out of his pocket. "I didn't have time to do a new mixtape, so you'll have to take an IOU for it. This...might be a little cheesy... but...well, close your eyes."

You followed his instruction and felt him grab your hands and lift them up. He positioned them just so, and then left you standing there as he prepped whatever your gift was.

"It's not my usual thing," he muttered as he fumbled with what-sounded-like a rustle of paper. "But the guys helped me clean out the van--"

"You cleaned the van?" you scoffed. "For me? Eddie I've been in your van before."

"Hey listen," he suddenly sounded offended. "First date and such, you deserve the best."

"I like the clutter in your van," you told him truthfully.

"Listen, if I hadn't cleaned it out I would've never been able to gift you with this, the Mirror of Galadriel. Well it's more like a hand mirror. Hey no peeking!"

He continued telling you about the way Lucas and Will, crafty as they were, helped him make this little surprise during the break of their Friday night session of Hellfire.

"Apparently Sinclair's little sister and her friends make these for each other, and he's helped them. Which, ask me to paint minis for DnD any day; this shit was hard. There. Open your eyes now."

He slipped something over the tips of your fingers and when you opened them you found...

"A cootie catcher?" You asked with a laugh. "Eddie..."

You were about to ask what the deal was when you noticed it wasn't just a folded piece of paper littered with numbers and words, but taped and glued together with bits of familiar papers.

You brought it closer to your face for further inspection, flexing your fingers this way and that to see the bits folded inside.

Was that the logo from Pizzeria Uno? And...a movie ticket?

"Eddie...what...?"

"Ok, it's not just garbage," he assured you. "I know I don't really clean out my van that often. Shit, there was homework in there that I was supposed to turn in last year. No wonder I had to repeat again. But I guess I never realized that after our not-dates, I sort of left a few things in the glovebox or emptied my pockets in the back to throw out later.

"This...this is from our first outing for pizza. And when we went to see Day of the Dead. I cut up the order form when you paid the last installment on Sweetheart. And this? The menu from that one takeout place we ordered from? That night when...you know...before we went to Chicago? A-and a Chef Boyardee label. Y'know from that one time we ate dinner at your place? Well, actually, I don't think it's from that night.

"I-I know, I'm a walking contradiction," he concluded with a laugh. "I said that this was gonna be our first official date and here I am with a reminder of all the times we weren't dating but...I guess I figured...our times together as friends are just as important as any date. So now that...you're actually my girlfriend, I needed you to know you'll still always be my best friend too."

You felt your eyes water and your heart pound in your chest.

"Do you like it?" he asked nervously.

"It's only," you let out a watery laugh. "Only the best gift I've ever gotten."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Not even the Boston cassette I got you?"

"Not even that," you shook your head. "Seriously Eddie...it's perfect."

All you wanted in that moment right there was to kiss him.

And you would have, but the lights in the mall concourse dimmed, signaling customer hours were over and that everyone needed to leave.

"You ready?" he backed away from you and held his hand out, fingers wiggling and eager to twine with yours. You gladly took it, expecting to hold his hand as you walked out towards the employee lot, but he surprised you by twirling you in a circle. He spun you into him, tucked against his side, and draped his arm across your shoulder.

You were sure it was gonna be a perfect night. Again.

Because he was perfect.

---

Turns out the Cootie Catcher wasn't just a gift with little mementos of your friendship, it was the means of which the two of you would decide the fate of your date night.

"I'll pick first," he explained. "And then you pick next ok? You just gotta trust me on this."

Throughout the night you both picked numbers and pinched the corners of the cootie catcher back and forth, back and forth, until you came up with the next activity you would embark on.

"Dinner at...the Hideaway," you read the first outcome that had come up. "The Hideaway? I thought it was the Hideout."

"No, they're two different places," Eddie explained. "Damn, you've almost lived in Hawkins for a year now and you still don't know? I'm a really bad Welcome Committee."

Turns out the Hideaway was a sports bar on the outskirts of town. The bar itself was a little crowded with patrons drinking beers and watching football on the twin tv's that were mounted overhead, but there was a tiny little dining room off to the side that was practically empty.

As you scanned the menu, your eyes immediately caught a glimpse of The Wayne under the sandwich header.

"Wayne as in...Uncle Wayne?" you asked with a laugh, and Eddie couldn't have looked any prouder if he tried.

"Yup," he puffed out his chest. "Nothing amazing ever happens in Hawkins, but if you can guess the Super Bowl winner accurately at the beginning of the season for 5 years in a row, you get a sandwich named after you at a bar."

"Shut up," you laughed. "He did not."

"Swear on my mother's grave," Eddie leaned forward and challenged you.

You both ended up ordering the Wayne, and Eddie spent most of dinner telling you Wayne's Scientific Method to choosing the winners, and then the way the winning streak broke.

"He put twenty dollars in a pool at the plant," he explained. "Figured he'd been guessing right at the Hideaway for so long without getting anything more than a free dinner out of it, he might as well try to win a little cash. Turns out fate only meant for him to win a hearty chicken dinner and nothing more, so he didn't try to tempt the Gods again lest he incur their wrath."

The sandwich was delicious, the company even better. And you held hands across the table pretty much the entire time.

---

Back and forth, back and forth the cootie catcher went, and you groaned when you saw the outcome.

Bowling.

"I'm not good at it Eddie," you tried to persuade him to choose again. "I'm gonna embarrass myself."

"Too bad, I'm not good at it either. We'll both look like idiots together."

"I'm wearing a dress Eddie."

"This is our destiny!" He exclaimed with a tone of finality, hand on the gearshift to put the van into drive. "And before you try to fight me on it, I'll even let my chivalry take a hit and let you pay for the first round of beer."

Knowing that a win was a win, you agreed.

Reluctantly.

The Roane County Bowlarama was something out of a time capsule, though, and that in and of itself was a novelty. Casino carpet and funky modular chairs and a neon light that sat over the pristinely waxed hardwood lanes in a very kitschy style that proudly advertised the Bowlarama's foundation in 1960.

It certainly smelled like nostalgia in here.

Eddie went to get your shoes while you meandered to the little concessions counter to get two solo cups of cheap beer and a soft pretzel with plastic cheese for the two of you to share.

As you got your score cards written up, you confided in Eddie that the only time you'd ever been bowling was for a birthday party for a classmate when you were in the 7th grade.

He just laughed and told you it had been the same for him too.

He pointed down to one of the lanes where a family was happily bowling with their two small children.

"If you go over there, I'm sure you'll still see the dent in the floor where I dropped the ball," he whispered. "It was too heavy and I went to go bowl and it dropped out of my hand and almost cracked the hardwood. And I vowed never again."

"Then why did you put it on the Cootie Catcher?" you asked incredulously.

"Well, we've gotta look stupid in front of each other sometime, right?" he reasoned.

“As though we haven’t done that already.” You shook your head. "Eddie Munson, you are something else."

"I know." He bowed proudly and then went to take his turn.

At the end of ten frames, you turned in your scorecards and your shoes at the counter, all the while snickering as the attendant read out your abysmal scores.

You'd beaten Eddie, sure...but it wasn't hard to beat a zero.

Was he really that bad at bowling or had he let you win? You’d never know.

---

It had been a great night but it was getting late by the time you got back out to the van.

Normally, you wouldn't mind a longer Sunday night out with Eddie, even if you had work and he had school in the morning. Honestly, you couldn't quite give a shit if you were tired for a Monday morning call with your boss or to unpack shipment boxes.

Still, you stopped Eddie before he could fish the Cootie Catcher out of the cupholder on the console.

"What's wrong?" he frowned. "You getting tired? Too tired for a late night snack? I put Dairy Queen for ice cream and Bradley's for a mystery snack adventure as options."

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, trying to entice you into letting fate take you once again.

The thing was...ending the night wasn't really the thought on your mind. It had been a great night out, reminiscent of those few early Sunday nights, cruising around Hawkins and finding someplace new you hadn't been yet.

But part of the fun of some other not dates with Eddie were the times you got to spend alone. Even recently, as you started cuddling and making out on the couch or stealing kisses in the food court at the little table hidden closer to the JCPenney entrance while sharing cheese fries, it was the intimacy and closeness you cherished. Those times spent together were spent in a world just for the two of you.

And as the night went on and you came to that realization, Mindy's words echoed through your head: Horizontal Tango.

God, ok, that was not the way you wanted to think of it, but it did get your mind on that night. The last time things had started getting heated between the two of you, the night you thought everything had been ruined before you both realized that there were some actual feelings deeper than friendship there.

That had been...nice.

Sure you'd been high, but laughing and groping and kissing and grinding...

Yeah it was more fun to do all of that with someone than to take care of things on your own with your imagination or one of the bodice rippers you secretly bought at Waldenbooks at your disposal.

One of the bodice-rippers with a love interest that your brain had started to fill in with a certain metalhead that was your then-crush and now-boyfriend.

Suddenly the more you thought about it--actively thought about it--sitting here in the van with Eddie, surrounded by the scent of his cigarettes and his Old Spice cologne, having just had probably the best date you could ask for...you realized that you wanted more too. With him.

More than a quick fuck at a party or a romp on a couch.

You wanted Eddie.

First date be damned.

"Sweetheart?" Eddie pulled you from your thoughts. "We can call it if you want. If you're too tired to drive, I can take you home now and...I'll pick you up for work tomorrow before I go to class."

"Uh." You worried your bottom lip, at a loss for words, as your hand still gripped the top of his over the center console. He was being so kind, so chivalrous, so thoughtful with this whole date, all of these sweet plans...you didn’t want to undercut the effort he’d put in.

How did one just ask their boyfriend to have sex with them?

"Do you wanna have sex?"

The words escaped your mouth as though you were on autopilot, and both you and Eddie stared at each other dumbfounded as the question hung heavily between you.

Well that was one way to do it.

"Wha...whe...like? Here? Now?" He stared at you wide-eyed as he questioned. There was a beat and then he shook his head and stared down at your hands in silence.

What you wouldn't have given at that very moment to hear the thoughts that were clearly racing through his head, as he visibly tried to compute the situation you were both in.

You felt your chest get tighter and your heart raced.

See? First date, no fooling around. You should have trusted your instincts.

"I mean...yes,” Eddie finally blurted out. “But it wasn’t on the cootie catcher.”

It was silent for another moment, then you both broke down in hysterical laughter.

Unintelligible words were shared as you both relived the last few tense moments with intense clarity—basking in the silliness that could only be shared between the two of you—and then you both seemed to have a lightbulb moment. Eddie turned in his seat to grab something from the back of the van while you dug for something in your bag.

It was a race to see who could get there first, and Eddie won as he fell back into the driver's seat with a sharpie held in the air like his ultimate prized possession. You abandoned your own search and began carefully unfolding the cootie catcher and before long, on the inner most flaps, new adventures for the night were written.

Blizzards at DQ was soon scribbled out in favor of Your Place.

And Mystery Snacks from Bradley’s replaced by My Place.

Eddie started situating the fortune teller over the tips of his fingers when you grabbed his wrist.

“What if we don’t end up getting either place?” You asked a little stupidly.

“Well then I guess we’re gonna head to the civic center and play Boggle with Gareth’s mom and dad, Sweetheart,” he snarked. “Pick a number.”

Back and forth the cootie catcher went as you called out numbers.

Until Your Place sat proudly on display between you.

“Alright then,” Eddie placed the cootie catcher back into the cup holder and then clapped his hands. “Your place it is.”

---

For as bold as you both had been in the van, it was unexpectedly awkward when you got into your apartment.

It was a moment of being in a place you'd both been a hundred times together before, but the implication of why you were there made it difficult to simply begin.

You both ended up on the couch for a while, watching some late night reruns and sharing a pint of Rum Raisin until you were calm and comfortable enough to share tentative kisses and touches in front of the glow of the tv.

"This isn't..." Eddie chuckled when you found yourself horizontal on the couch and he kissed his way down your neck and across your décolletage. "This isn't like a porno."

You both broke down in laughter again and he admitted that that thought had been on his mind all night, along with the possibility that this would be waiting for the two of you at the end of the date.

"I had that thought," he continued once the laughter had subsided. "Last time we were like this. That's...do you remember I...god did I honk your boob?"

"You did," you remembered fondly, even though the outcome of that encounter was anything but a fond memory.

"I think that's why I did it," he ran a finger along the neckline of your dress, which caused goosebumps to erupt along your arms as you shivered with anticipation. "I don't need to be anything with you except myself. I don't have to be the...hot boyfriend or the hunky pizza guy or anything. I'm just me, and you're just you."

"You can't make me cry before we fuck," you told him matter-of-factly, and dragged him back up so you could kiss him again.

"Actually," he broke away again and his brows shot up into his bangs. "That's another kind of porno. We can add that to the list for next time ok?"

That set the pace and the expectation for the rest of the night: intimate moments punctuated by words and laughter.

There was no rush, so you took your time to explore one another's bodies. You moved from the couch to the bed and clothes came off one piece at a time, including socks which both of you agreed was the least seductive piece of clothing to remove.

"But I did read about this thing with tights once," you bit your lip in too-little-too-late realization, after you'd chucked your pantyhose into the corner of your bedroom. "It was kind of hot."

"I'm making notes," Eddie tapped his temple twice. "Don't worry. Next time."

And if you ever had the impression that Eddie was a bad student, all of that doubt vanished because he was incredibly studious when it came to your body. Both of you were as you licked and kissed and groped. You took the time to find spots that were sensitive or ticklish, that generated moans or giggles.

Boy, did you find out how much he liked to giggle.

You traced along the hazy ink of his tattoos with the tip of your tongue, in awe of the imagination that he'd put into each piece of artwork permanently etched on his body as he stammered out a brief story of each one. He told you about something he wanted along his ribcage, and when you went to kiss along the proposed path, he burst into a fit of laughter that almost rocketed him off the bed.

Soon there were more panting breaths than breathy laughter. As Eddie took his time worshipping you, committing every dip and curve and crease of you to memory--just like all the other things that he seemed to take note of--and the way you hiccuped and moaned as he lavished you with attention.

You both became teachers, showing one another just how you found pleasure alone--Eddie quick to admit that his solitary ministrations might have been done to the thought of you--before tonight. You were both happy to oblige each other's desires with your hands and mouths.

You quickly realized how much you liked the way that he stuttered your name as you suckled the head of his cock, and he seemed to take that as a challenge when he kissed and sucked your clit in return, the first partner you'd ever had to think to do so and not just fumble with zero thought or coordination.

"I'm a sex god," he boasted, chin resting smugly on your mound after you'd finished riding the crest of your first orgasm. "What can I say?"

"You're so full of it," you scoffed. "But you can say whatever you want if you just promise me you'll do that again."

"Oooh, gonna especially take note of that one," he said mischievously as he walked his fingers up the length of your body and then took your hand in his, both of you ready for the pièce de résistance of the night.

It was a lazy kind of fucking, even though the two of you were as wound up as you were; however, considering that you'd both had an entire day of work and then a lengthy date and foreplay, neither of you could complain.

You could have headboard-banging, heart rate-climbing, frenzied, nasty sex anytime you wanted for however long you'd be together.

"Hopefully forever," Eddie whispered against your mouth after you'd reassured him of just that, as he sank into you and realized that he was more comfortable in the cradle of your arms and thighs than stiffly knelt above you. "You promise?"

"Hopeless romantic," you muttered in return. You moaned as he slowly bucked into you and created a delicious drag of his fingers on your clit again. "But yeah, I promise."

There were very few words after that, just sounds. Pants and sighs and sucking kisses; a few swears as you both found the peaks of your pleasure, and finally an "is there any more of that ice cream" once Eddie collapsed beside you when it was all over.

You both couldn't help but brag how great it had all been come morning, when he drove you back to the mall for work.

Or when you showed up at his place the following night to do it all over again.

Next Chapter: Longevity

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #store manager verse #stranger things #stranger things fic

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lbxbx · 3 months

Text

Cockpit 7 | knj

Pair: Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon goes through a rough time while getting a divorce, meeting you at the club two weeks in a row when attraction becomes unreal.

Rating: +18 mature content, Smut, divorce, fatherhood.

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“Four aces.” Namjoon puts his cards down and he thinks he won, he claps his hands and takes a sip from his beer. “What do you got?”

“Don’t celebrate too early Joon.” You put your cards down. “Straight flush.” And you finally beat his cards and win the game.

That day was a lazy day for both of you, after your nap you two woke up hungry and ended up cooking pasta with prepackaged sauce to save time, and after dinner he wanted to see if he could beat you in a poker game, and you won the game three times in a row.

“Fuck.” He murmurs. “Practice round.” He tries to manipulate the game which makes you laugh. “I’m ready to play you again and I’ll win.” You shrug.

He nods and takes another sip from his drink. “You got lucky y/n.” He has the habit of messing with you and you know he’s doing it again now so you hit his chest. “You’re such an idiot.” You get up on your feet and collect the plates that were still on the coffee table before you head to the kitchen, he follows you and takes the plates from your hands before putting them in the sink. “You should go lie down, I’ll do the dishes.”

You giggle and cross your arms. “I’m okay, I promise.”

He’s been treating you like a fragile piece of glass the entire day, When you’re making dinner, he felt like a burden when you got up and insisted to cook, even when you didn’t even finish half of your plate, he knows you cooked just because he’s there. So he insisted on helping in the kitchen even though when he turns everything into a disaster.

He washes the plates before stacking them in the dishwasher, you tilt your head and just think.

Why?

Is she blind? His wife must fucking brainless for treating him like utter shit and turning his life upside down.

This man walked out of a book, he’s sweet, sensitive, caring, smart, cute, attractive, and really good in bed. Why would she do that?

You were never the type to praise a man or care for one emotionally because you’re a little sure that most of them are heartless really.

But Kim Namjoon needs to be treated with love, he deserves to be loved and to be taken care of.

There’s just one thing left to do, you’ve studied this man enough and now you need someone else to do that instead, you’re probably blinded by his good looks or something, so you need someone to see him differently.

“Do you have anything planned Friday?” You use your palms for support and jump to sit on the counter, he hums and looks up for a second trying to remember his schedule. “I’m supposed to fly to Gwangju tomorrow night, and I’m flying back Friday evening,” He nods when he remembers before he asks. “Do you wanna do something?”

You didn’t think it much, but this is the perfect opportunity to finally get him to meet your friends. “I’m planning to host a game night with my friends, and I want you to come over and join.”

He grabs the kitchen towel to dry his hands before he scratches the back of his neck, a little hesitated to answer.

“Don’t worry, they already know about you and they’re really nice people.”

You really wish you didn’t say that, because it obviously made him uncomfortable. You can tell from the way he fidgets in his spot and looks away. “I hope I didn’t make things awkward for you.” He says.

You shake your head immediately. “No, Hoseok found out when he saw you here a couple weeks ago, And Jimin actually found out on his own, you’ll get to see the others on Friday, but I promise, other than their inappropriate jokes and really loud arguments, they’re good people.”

He turns to face you again before a smirk sits on his face, taking a few steps closer to you. “So you want to introduce me to your friends?” And you playfully hit his chest, “They’re finally going to see the guy who fucked their friend huh?” He continues. Your face flushes red for a moment and you feel heat creeping all over your body.

He nods slowly. “Sure, I’d love to join then.”

“You’re kidding.” Of course it’s Kim Taehyung, who’s face suddenly drops and changes to the point you would barely recognize his features, he’s the last one to find out that Namjoon is joining you tonight and he clearly isn’t that glad about it. “Y/n, he lied to you, you can’t just-“

“I know.” You interrupt him, “I got to know the man very well in the past month, I just need you guys to help me, you’re a guy and you know how guys think, I really care about everyone’s opinion, but I care about yours the most.” You shut the cabinet after grabbing out large bowls for the chips.

You had everything completely planned, you refilled your fridge and mini bar with alcohol and other drinks, you stacked your pantry with different types of chips and candy, and you even made the dips and popped some popcorn.

“You already know my opinion.” He crosses his arms. “And I don’t think I’m going to change it.”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “Just give him a chance, oh and please oh please don’t scare him off and don’t do that thing with your face.” You pause. “Oh and please don’t mention anything about his personal life, I already warned the guys and now I’m telling you, he doesn’t have to know that you know.”

“I’m not going to mention anything, but I can’t promise you anything about not scaring him off.” He grabs the bowls and heads out to the living room, he’s really irritated that when he saw Jungkook in front of him, he snapped at him loudly. “Jungkook will you please move your fat ass and drag the poker table to the living room?” He scolds the younger which makes you laugh, you know the topic of Namjoon irritated him just because he’s really protective of you, they all are, but Taehyung never had close girl friends and you’re the first one ever, that’s why he protects you at all costs.

“I kinda wish Namjoon joined us all the time if you’re going to wear dresses like these.” Jungkook finally gets up to get the poker table, you cringe and kick him in the shin. “What a creep.”

You do admit you look good in that dress, you had just bought it, a dark grey shapewear slip dress that complemented and highlighted every single curve on your body, it had a square collar to bring out your tits, and it was a little above the knee. You matched it with the pair of slippers you wear around your house, cute but really attractive.

Jimin grabs the bowl of chips into his lap and starts eating. “Where is he anyway? Is he always late?”

You rub your forehead, all of them are acting weird today as if they got jealous, not jealous in a romantic way, but jealous in a possessive-over-their-friend jealous. “He landed an hour ago, so he should be here any minute.” You head back to the kitchen and take out ash trays, some of your friends were social smokers and they always light up a few smokes during game nights.

The door bell rings and you hear the rushing footsteps from the living room, and like the kids they are, they rush to check the cameras before they all take their seats and act nonchalant, but all eyes are on the door.

Poor Namjoon he’s about to be scared off.

“Can someone please get the door?” You yell from the kitchen.

Namjoon was a little taken back when the door was opened by Yoongi, he was expecting you to be the one to open, his eyes even wonder inside the house looking for you. “Hi.” Yoongi shoots a smile before stretching his hand out to shake Namjoon’s. “I’m Yoongi, come on in.”

And the moment Namjoon steps in, he lets out a nervous smile and looks around the room aching to find you, he’s getting nervous by the second especially when all of them are looking at him.

“Joon?” You finally get out of the kitchen with the ashtrays in one hand, and just like magic, Namjoon suddenly feels like he’s home, his breath is regular again and his heart beat is.. Well he’s still anxious about meeting your friends.

“There you are.” You purposely give him a hug and a kiss on his cheek in front of your friends. “How was your flight?” He wraps one arm around you and kisses you back on the cheek .”It was great, you look outstanding.”

He did notice the dress and he so desperately wants to check you out but everyone is looking. You giggle and put your hand behind his back. “Guys, this is Namjoon.”

And you introduce him to each one of them, you were too occupied looking at Namjoon’s body language and behavior to notice any discomfort, but he’s doing surprisingly okay, not because your friends are nice to him, but because you’re here with him.

What you didn’t know is that Taehyung is studying this man head to toe, he knows how men look when they’re attracted to someone, and he knows how they even act, and he’s a little amused when he sees the way Namjoon looks at you, he knows that you two know each other for a month, but Namjoon’s looks give him away, he does have something for you, and it’s very obvious.

“Come on everyone, take your seats.” Seokjin stands up, Namjoon pulls a chair for you next to him and speaks. “y/n is on my team.” Which lights up the first argument around the table, calling you on his team is like calling out for shotgun and everyone wanted you to be on their team.

Namjoon sits between the hyenas and you’re genuinely scared when he’s around your friends, you still don’t know how far along Namjoon will be able to endure, your friends are really heavy blooded and ruthless when it comes to joking and making fun of each other.

“It’s me, Namjoon, Yoongi and Mia against the rest of you.” Hoseok said while examining his cards.

You had already played a couple rounds and called it over, but they decided to continue playing since the bet just got higher and they all have alcohol in their systems.

“Yoongi and Mia should play in different teams.” Taehyung teases. “Make them fight.”

Yoongi flips Taehyung off and you look at Namjoon worried he may think this is too much, but he laughs and looks at his cards, his long fingers shuffling through them, a little too focused on them.

“Are they good?” You put your arm on the back of his chair, and he startles for a second, totally not used to being touched in public like that. “Hmm?” He looks at you, your noses almost brushing against each other. “Your cards.” You explain and brush a hair strand away from his face.

“Yeah, they’re not bad.” He says, looking back at his cards. “Come closer.” He proper grabs your chair and pulls you closer to him.

“Come on captain you’re up.” Jimin got way too excited, which makes everyone laughs at him at the nickname he just called Namjoon, and they continue calling him that for the rest of the game.

You get up to get more beer from the kitchen and you hear their voices go louder when the game gets hotter, you return to the living room and you see them pick at Namjoon for being too obvious with his expression, almost exposing his cards. He’s handling it well and biting back at them, they’re still joking of course. You grin and walk closer to him, wrapping an arm around him from behind. “Now stop teasing him will you.” You print a soft kiss on his neck, inhaling his perfume. “They’re just jealous you’re a better player.” You raise an eyebrow at the team playing against him.

Namjoon’s cheeks flush and his heart races a little, he’s been fighting the urge to touch you since the night started, he even finds himself salivating at the look of your bottom lip bitten between your teeth when you’re looking at him, his pants are getting a little uncomfortable for him.

Your actions don’t go unnoticed by your friends and you clearly see Jungkook smirking and Taehyung’s eyes locked onto Namjoon.

You pull your chair and get back into your seat next to him, you feel his thigh pressed against the side of yours and it burns to the touch, you’re trying so hard to control yourself but you’re on the verge of taking him to your bedroom for a little ‘chat’.

You lean in closer to put your chin on his shoulder and take a look at his cards, he’s already got the winning cards but he’s stalling you’re friends and messing with them. You look at him and your eyes meet, he grins and stares at your lips for a split second before looking back into your eyes.

Taehyung’s eyes are piercing at the two of you now which doesn’t go unnoticed by his girlfriend Jade, who ends up elbowing him subtly gaining his attention, but he just couldn’t help but to look back at Namjoon.

Taehyung himself has the highest body count out of everyone, and he’s been with way too many girls and he managed to get away with an excuse not to call them again, he even didn’t call Jade back after their first night together. He knows that men actually do end up calling back women they actually do find attractive, or women who they can benefit of.

Then he thinks, what would Namjoon want to benefit out of you? He’s financially stable, quite good looking he could just point out to any woman and she’ll go on her knees for him, a man with an admirable job, apparently someone who doesn’t mind long term relationship since he’s already married.

Oh yes, the man is married.

And Taehyung finds it funny that they’re all sitting there basically showing him that it’s okay to cheat on his wife with their best friend, gosh this is fucked up on so many levels.

Your friends know that Namjoon is your current fling, but if anyone outside of your circle who doesn’t get the context they would think you two are madly in love. No no…

They would think he’s madly in love.

Plus, Taehyung first considered Namjoon to be a total red flag, but after a couple hours from sitting around the table with him, he doesn’t seem half bad, actually, he’s really cool, and very smart.

Oh and for you?

You totally don’t care who’s looking and who’s not, you’re totally feeling up Namjoon’s thighs under the table, your fingers squeezing softly on his inner thigh, he manages to hide his facial expressions really well, but he man spreads his legs to give you more space to stroke more of his covered skin. “Royal flush.” He couldn’t wait to put his cards down on the table just so he can lay his palm over yours, proper grabbing it and putting it on his clothed erection. The idea itself is arousing the two of you when you’re surrounded by other people and teasing each other with touches from under the table.

“I’m calling Namjoon and y/n on my team the next round.” Hoseok calls which makes Seokjin argue. “That’s not fair, you only get to choose one.”

“Not a chance, Namjoon and I are a team.” You take a sip from your bear.

Of course Namjoon is unbothered by the argument, hell he’s not even listening, his eyes are fidgeting between your hand that’s rubbing his boner subtly under the table, and on your lips and chest rising when you’re breathing.

He could take you right now on the poker table and they can watch, he won’t mind.

“Next week, I promise I’ll find a place.” Hoseok suggests when they were already planning the next weekend with Namjoon, they usually discuss it with you but they’re all over the guy, and he’s doing pretty well that he was planning everything and they were listening carefully. You’re watching in awe as they talk to him like they’ve known him for years, and it makes you feel a little anxious.

You recall what he told you the other day, and he was totally right, this isn’t just a hookup, it’s way more than this and that’s what’s making you anxious.

Namjoon digs into his pocket to fish out his phone and he unlocks it. “My parents got this beach house on the outskirts, we could go there. It has a pool and a hot tub and we can light up the bonfire by the beach at night.”

Jungkook is standing really close to Namjoon, he even grabs the phone from the older’s hands and starts swiping through the pictures, an amused look on Jungkook’s face. “How rich are your parents? This house is incredible—Oops, sorry.” Both their faces change and you panic a little wondering what they saw, Jungkook swiped too far and a picture of Jay appears on the screen, of course Jungkook is smart enough to swipe back to the previous photos quickly without making it seem awkward, but it actually is.

You even earn a look from both Taehyung and Seokjin, the air even tenses up a little, you look at Namjoon who contains himself and acts like nothing happened, he thinks that they don’t know, and that they will probably assume that it’s his nephew or brother or anything. But really, they all do know and they’re not acting oblivious enough, thank god he doesn’t notice.

“Okay, clear up your schedules for the next weekend, no excuses y/n.” Jimin speaks sarcastically and you realize you’re holding your breath, you rejected going with them a couple weeks ago, but now since you have your plus one, you actually wanna go. “Shut up.” You squint your eyes at him.

“I should get going.” Seokjin gets up. “I’m on call tomorrow.”

“I need to go too, I’m visiting my parents tomorrow.” Jimin gets up too and walks closer to give you a hug. “I had so much fun tonight, thanks for having us.”

“I had fun too.” You kiss his cheek. “Drive safe.” And he bids goodbye with Seokjin and they get going.

You grab the empty plates and pickup the empty cans of bear when Mia gets up to grab the rest of the empty bowls. “Let me help you.”

Both of you head to the kitchen and you start rinsing the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher, you can sense that Mia has something to say from the way she’s hovering around you and scratching her eyebrow awkwardly, her eyes carefully scanning you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

You and Mia always shared secrets together and she was always there for you, and so were you, she came up to you for an advice every time she had an argument with Yoongi, you both trust each other.

“Do you not see it?” She whispers, her hand sitting on her hip, one of your eyebrows cocks up in confusion, you’re totally clueless on what she’s about to say. “See what?”

“The way he looks at you, he’s head over heels.”

You roll your eyes before you chuckle. “Mia, Namjoon and I met exactly 6 weeks ago, of course he’s not head over heels for me, what are you talking about.”

“Honey, Yoongi asked me to be his girlfriend after our third date.” She spits. “And look at us now.”

You shrug one shoulder and shake your head. “I can’t see what you’re talking about, he’s still married and he has a child, so this is all probably temporary, no strings attached.”

“No strings attached?” She laughs quietly. “Girl, he’s over here handling your annoying friends on a Friday night. Plus, he’s getting a divorce, so this doesn’t count.”

You pause for a second before you look at the woman. “Who told you that?”

“Hobi told us.” She bites on her fingernails, the asshole did read the papers, but why didn’t he tell you?

“It doesn’t mean anything, he’s not getting the divorce because of me.” You step on the pedal of the trashcan to get rid of the empty cans of drinks.

She sighs. “I’m just saying think it through—“

“Of course I’m not going to, especially when I don’t know where he is about this.” You interrupt her, you had a point. Of course you’re not going to like a man who you met only 6 weeks ago, what if he was on a total different page than where you think you are?

“Baby? Come on, we should be going home.” Yoongi leans against the kitchen door frame and he feels like he interrupted something. “Is there anything wrong?”

“Not at all.” You turn towards the sink and wash your hands.

“What do you think about Namjoon?” Mia asks, her arms crossed, she already knows what her husband thinks, she just wants you to know that he thinks the same.

Yoongi pauses for a second before he puts his hands in his pockets. “I personally think he’s okay, but Jungkook out there is all over your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You grit on your teeth before you peak your head out of the kitchen door, Jungkook is sitting really close next to Namjoon, and both of them are in what seems to be an important topic, before he flexes his arm muscles and feels up Namjoon’s. Men.

You roll your eyes and get back into the kitchen. “Jungkook is all over everyone even himself.”

Yoongi laughs quietly before walking closer to you, pulling you into a soft hug. “It doesn’t matter what we think y/n, it’s what you think that matters. I know you wanted us to study the man, and we do actually like him, but it’s you who matters.” And his wife nods eagerly showing you that this somehow was her point too before she adds. “And he seems to fancy you a lot.”

“Yeah.” Yoongi agrees. “But take it slow, will you? The man is still married and we don’t know what’s happening next.”

You sigh and rub your forehead. He’s making sense, and you’re not sure why you’re a little afraid to admit that you finally like someone, but you do, except no matter how hard you think it’s okay to like someone, it still feels wrong when he’s involved with someone else.

“We had so much fun tonight, take care chief.” He squeezes you closer and kisses your cheek. “Goodnight.”

You walk them towards the door, they bid goodbye to everyone before they leave. Jungkook is still occupied talking with Namjoon and the poor guy is listening and he seems to be actually interested.

Taehyung and his girlfriend finally get up too, he walks closer to you to pull you in for a hug. “We had so much fun tonight.” He prints a soft kiss on your cheek before he whispers. “You wanna go out for coffee tomorrow? Just us two.”

You wrap your arms around him and kiss him back on the cheek. “Sure, I’ll call you.” You’re a little glad he suggested this date, you know he’s going to let it all out.

He nods and pulls back before saying goodbye to everyone, actually handshaking Namjoon specifically with a smile on his face, before he grabs his girlfriend and leaves.

You finally walk closer to Namjoon who’s sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, Jungook in front of him on the coffee table not planning to shut his mouth anytime soon, you squeeze in between them and sit on Namjoon’s leg and hug him closer.

The poor man isn’t used to being touched like this or publicly shown affection at all, he’s startled to the point where he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, you grab his arm and put it explicitly on your ass, totally unbothered by the existence of Hoseok and Jungkook.

They’ve done a lot worse so you secretly think that it’s your turn to finally do things like that.

“Did he give you a headache?” You pout, running your fingers through his hair and scratching the back of his head, he melts completely by your touch and he even closes his eyes, barely shaking his head.

“Oh, I’m the one having a headache, you’ve been blabbering nonstop.” Hoseok complains, gritting on his teeth at Jungkook, he gets up and collects his wallet and keys. “I’m going home, I’ll see you next week Namjoon.”

He manages to kiss you on the cheek softly while you’re still sitting on Namjoon’s legs before leaving and forcing Jungkook to finally leave.

You fall next to Namjoon on the couch, yawning and stretching your arms. “Can you please lock the door?”

He laughs quietly before using his palms for support to hover over you, printing a few kisses on your jaw and neck. “But I need to go home.” To which you immediately pout, “One night won’t hurt.”

He leans his forehead against yours and comes to realization, that the last time his lips touched yours was actually very long ago, and as much as he actually wanted to just fuck you senseless, he’s holding back to avoid making you uncomfortable, he doesn’t even dare to press his lips against yours.

He also can’t say no to you, he shrugs it off and finally nods. “One night won’t hurt.”

Even though both of you have been teasing each other with touches the entire night, you still can’t do anything with him since you’re on the last few days of your period.

He rises up on his feet and moves towards the door to lock it before clicking on a few buttons to dim the lights. And from his walk back towards you, you can easily tell that he’s been suffering with his boner that’s hiding in his jeans.

“I’m sorry.” You giggle playfully, he follows your eyesight and scoffs, his hands immediately rushing to his pockets to relieve some of the tightness. “Don’t worry, I got used to having blue balls my entire life.” He sarcastically speaks.

His joke makes you laugh your heart out, your head even falls back on the couch. He finds it contagious that he laughs with you, walking closer to lean his palm on the back of the couch and leaning down to kiss you on the neck and jaw, your laugh slowly halting down and your bottom lip sits between your teeth. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” He grabs you by your hand and pulls you up.

To say he’s trying so hard is an understatement. The way you currently look is making him near losing it, your hair is frizzy and your eyes are half closed, even your dress is no longer covering your legs. Fuck he needs to touch you.

“Ugh.” You groan when you look at the poker table. “Can you please take it inside?”

He looks back at the poker table and carries it up, his veiny arms about to rip his t-shirt open when they bulge, this big boy is insanely attractive that it’s hard for you to keep your hands to yourself.

“Of course not.” He pouts, you’re both in bed, your head on his bare chest and he’s tugging random strands of your hair, you look at him and squint your eyes. “Well, I do mind.”

He’s been trying to convince you since the moment you two got in bed, that he won’t mind sex during your period, and of course you argued with the only reasonable excuse, it’s going to be a blood bath.

“Are you saying you don’t mind other stuff?” He suggestively asks, his finger tapping your nose softly, you know exactly what he means and you take a second to answer. “I don’t know, the whole idea is odd to me.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “We can try if you want to.” Which makes you scoff and roll your eyes. “You’re just saying that because your dick won’t go soft.” And he nods quickly. “I know, it won’t go soft when you’re this close to me and I can’t touch you.”

This knot sits in the pit of your stomach and you feel your body heat up, it feels really good to be sexually craved by someone, you love hearing it so much. “I can’t say I’m not flattered.” You lie down on your stomach, your elbows supporting your upper half as you grab a strand of your hair messing with it. “We could try I guess.”

He looks at your lips and licks his lower one, he could easily bust a nut at how far his imagination is going. “Okay.” He throws the blanket away from your bodies and drops it on the floor before bucking his hips up to pull his boxers down, his throbbing and already leaking cock slams against his lower stomach, the head already red and sensitive.

You swallow when you’re mouth suddenly excretes a stupid amount of saliva, you could kill to just choke on his dick, you want to make him feel good.

He leans both his arms behind his head and gives you an inviting look, he’s fully surrendered to you, he wants you to help him.

You spit on your palm and wrap your fingers around his cock, instant heat rushes through his body and even his legs spread apart a little. He swallows once, his hand then moves to caress the side of your face softly, he’s been waiting for this moment for a while now.

You stroke his erection slowly, your eyes focused on the only task you have in your hand, you wanted to just jerk him off at the beginning, but now you need to taste him.

You move your mouth closer to his dick and print the softest kiss on the tip, your eyes now locked into his, you lick once from the base of his shaft to the very tip, a string of saliva mixes with his precum and stays attached to your bottom lip, your other hand moves to the tip to smear his precum with your index finger before you put it in your mouth, the saltiness sits on your taste buds, and it tastes fucking good.

His cock twitches in your hand at the sight of you doing so, you even giggle playfully and kiss the head again. “All that for me?” You whisper. His eyes almost roll to the back of his head when you wrap your lips around the head and bob your head down and up, your hair falling on your face. “Good fucking girl, just like that.”

You bob your head lower each time before you pull back and stroke it again, you look him into the eyes and speak with a low voice. “I can suck your cock better than she does”

“Fuck!” He moans at the top of his lungs before he accidentally cums too fast, you even gasp when he shoots his cum in the air and it lands down on his stomach and on your hand, a little drop falling on the corner of your mouth, he holds the bed sheets into his fist and bucks his up with every spill. “Mmm,” His chest heaves dramatically when he’s done, his cock still in your hand and you’re still stroking him slowly. “Look at the mess you made.” You teasingly click your tongue, he looks down at you and smiles lazily. “This is so fucking embarrassing.”

You giggle and climb up towards him, you press the softest kiss on his lips and he immediately kisses you back eagerly, begging to feel more of your lips against his, he’s been wanting to kiss you the entire night, he licks your bottom lip and grabs your head closer, his tongue licks the small drop of his cum near your lips and he spits it into your mouth and you’re more than glad to swallow it.

He pulls back from the kiss and grabs your hand. “Let me clean you up.” He licks every drop of cum off of your fingers and kisses you back on the lips to spit the remaining cum into your mouth and again you swallow.

He wraps his arms around your hips and turns you so you lay flat on the bed, he hovers on top of you and prints small kisses repeatedly on your lips before he moves down to your neck, kissing it and licking softly which makes your body heat up again.

Namjoon never had the chance to study the female body correctly, his previous sexual life was solely just about getting the job done, of course it felt good to him, but with you this whole experience feels new to him and it’s filled with ecstasy. He wanted to explore your body, know what you’re into, not just because it felt insanely erotic to him, but he wanted to please you and make you feel good and satisfied.

He moves down to your chest, your nipples are perked up from underneath your tight white top from the blood pumping all over your body, almost begging to be touched by him, his index finger circles your hard covered nipple softly, his eyes focused on it and his tongue running on his lower lip.

He sticks his tongue out and licks the fabric once, rubs it with his index finger again and now using his thumb to pinch it lightly, your cunt feels numb and you can’t press your thighs together since he’s nestled between your legs.

The moisture he applied to your clothed nipple makes the shirt no longer white, it’s started to get see through and he can see it better now. “You can take my top off if you want to.” You suggest, a little out of breath, he looks up into your face to see the really obvious red flush on your face, now he’s a little more eager to make you cum.

He doesn’t hesitate as his warm fingers climb on your torso from under the shirt and he throws it off of you, your breasts fully exposed to him now, one of his hands lean on the pillow behind you to support his upper half, and the other gropes your breast in a tight grip, fuck, It hurts, but still feels so good.

He leans down and licks the valley between your tits and licks your nipple before sucking on it for his dear life, pulling his head back a little with your breast still in his mouth, the tugging makes your back arch against him, your hand moves to grab his wrist that’s leaning against the pillow. “Shit.” You clench your jaw when you feel your nipple sitting between his teeth, your eyes meet and he grins, almost threatening to actually bite it.

You grab onto his face, your thumb on his right cheek and the rest of your fingers on his left one. “No biting.”

Seeing you under him like that is more than enough to make him erect all over again like he didn’t just shoot a load a couple minutes ago, you find out when you accidentally graze your thigh between his legs and you feel his cock brushing against your skin. You really are flattered.

And he obeys, moving to your other breast to give it some love, before he turns you to lay on your side, and he lays behind you skin to skin, his arm sits under your head and he leans his forehead on the side of your face to kiss your ear. “Did I tell you how much I liked the dress you were wearing tonight?”

Your eyes automatically shut when you feel his hot breath into your ear when he speaks, you let out a breath when your head falls back against his. “You had no idea how much I wanted to bend you over that poker table and fuck your tight cunt.” He whispers, no he explicitly moans into your ear when he speaks. “Let them see how good your man can stretch that tight little pussy of yours.”

You shut your eyes tightly and you can’t take it anymore, you need to cum, you need him to touch you or do anything, you have to cum. “Fuck, Namjoon it hurts.”

“Hmm?” He hums, kissing your ear again, your hand moves to hold onto his that you’re leaning your head onto, you squeeze onto his palm and beg. “Please, please make me cum.”

He could embarrassingly cum fast like he did a couple minutes ago, but this time he’s able to hold back.

“You wanna cum?” He teasingly asks, his free hand grazes on the side of your body before it moves to your ass, he squeezes it into his palm and gives you the hardest spank ever, your butt cheek tingles with heat, on regular bases it would hurt, but now, it’s pushing you closer to your end.

His fingers hook on the elastic band of your panties before he pulls it down to reach your thighs, then wraps his fingers around his erection and settles it against your folds, your wet cunt glazing his cock and making it glisten when he rubs it in between your folds.

The numbness in your cunt hurts and you could feel your arousal on your own thighs, you’re getting way too impatient and eager for him that you grind your hips against his. You know he’s not going to penetrate since you’re basically still on your period, so grinding will do the job.

He grabs onto the back of your thigh and lifts one of your legs up to give him the desired space to start grinding against your folds, the slickness from your cunt making it easier to grind against you.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel the tip of his dick rub against your throbbing clitoris repeatedly, your jaw drops and you even reach for the back of his head behind you and pull onto his hair. “You’re gonna make me cum, please—“

“I know baby, can you hold back for me just a little?” He whispers into your ear, his irregular breath against your ear sending shivers across your body. “Just a little.” And you respond with shaking your head, your lips falling between your teeth, the knot inside your stomach is going to burst any second now. “I can’t.” You tug onto his hair tighter and grind your hips against his, your butt cheek slams against his body and you finally release, the heat washes through your spine and back and you could see starts in your eyes. “Ha.. Namjoon, I’m sorry.. I couldn’t.” Your hand falls and you start panting for a breath.

He kisses your ear softly and runs his hand on your thighs, pressing his fingers lightly into your skin and he can feel the heat of your body on his fingers tips. “You’re off the hook this time.” He teasingly whispers before he pulls back from behind you, his eyes land on his dick and he sees how much you’ve soaked him with your cream and he smirks, totally ignoring the little smear of blood on his dick.

He sits up on his knees on the bed and helps you lay flat on the bed again before pressing his lips against yours for a few wet kisses, his tongue grazing on your lower lip, his hand grabs onto yours and he leads it to his cock that’s seconds away to busting a nut.

Your body already feels loose that it takes you seconds to gather the strength to stroke his cock, taking the speed up every second, pleasure washes through his entire body that he can’t focus on the kiss and return it to you, his forehead falls against yours and his jaw falls down, his breath quickening and his eyelids falling down slowly. “That’s it.” He managed to hiss under his breath, both his palms sit on the pillow behind you and he lets you do all the work, your hands are getting tired that you have to stop for a second to change your rhythm, which makes him hold his cock into his own hands and stroke it fast.

You feel the need to not waste a drop, so you position your head near his cock and stick your tongue out, clearly telling him to cum on your mouth and face, and that’s the last thing he needs to see so he just lets go and shoots out continuous ribbons of his seed on your tongue and face, decorating it just the way he likes, and he swears you looked fucking gorgeous with his cum all over your face. “Fuck-“ He grunts and his hand falls down, his cock twitching and still shooting out cum on your tongue.

One of your hand grazes on his big thighs and the other one just cleans the cum off of your face to put it into your mouth, your eyes meets his and he stares at you out of breath and in awe, watching you clean every drop of his seed and put it into your mouth, you smirk when you see his cock twitching at the sight, before you stick your tongue out to show him the cum you gathered inside your mouth and swallow it, giving your lower lip a single lick. “Hmm.” You sit up on your knees and pull your panties back up, before wrapping your arms around his shoulder and smacking your tongue teasingly at him. “You taste okay.” You shrug, which makes him laugh and wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, his soft dick grazing on your lower stomach. “You’re fucking incredible.”

“I know.” You tease and kiss his cheek once. “Now you can go to sleep.”

Both of you lay down on the bed, his back faces you and you hug him from behind, kissing his bare shoulder softly before you finally go to sleep.

You walk into the warm café and the scent of the freshly roasted coffee beans and freshly bakes pastries wafts through your nose, you miss going to cafés like that since you’ve been deprived from it ever since you started your job, you used to study in coffee shops back then.

You look around and finally spot Taehyung on one of the tables waving his hand towards you, you walk closer to him, give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before you pull the chair across from him and take a seat.

Almost one hour in and you two spend it catching up on daily things, his job, yours, his girlfriend and how he’s planning to ask her to move it, before he finally speaks of the not so forgotten topic and asks you about Namjoon.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?” You ask him, your eyes locked into his face to study his features, you’re getting anxious slowly and impatient to know what he thinks.

He takes a long sip of his iced Americano before he rests his back against the chair and crosses his arms. “Does it matter what I say?” And that confuses you for a second. “He seems to like you, but we need to address the elephant in the room y/n, he’s still married and you don’t even know where you are on this whole thing.” He shrugs.

You lean your elbows on the table and shrug. “You’re right, but I’m not being delusional Tae, he clearly feels something, don’t you think?”

And he nods. “Perhaps, yeah.” Before he continues. “Look we just need to give it some time, you guys just started talking and you’re just high on each other.”

You huff and take a sip of your drink. “The man is perfect” And it feels like a heavy weight on your shoulder just disappeared when you finally said that to someone. Taehyung grins and shrugs slightly. “The guys like him.”

“And you?”

“I do.” He says. “But it doesn’t matter what any of us thinks, it’s all up to you.”

“You’re not really helping me.” You whine and hit his leg from under the table.

“We can’t discuss anything right now, we need to know where he is at least, we could be reading him wrong after all.” He rubs his leg before cursing at you under his breath.

“Then what are we doing here?” You blink your eyes, “I thought we were going to discuss the entire thing.”

“I just want you to take everything slow, we’re all here for you and we’ve got your back.” He puts his hand over yours and squeezes it softly. “You’re a successful woman, who’s smart enough to take her own decisions and know what’s good for her and what’s not.”

You thought the heavy weight on your shoulders is gone but it’s slowly returning, you’ve always seen people falling in and out of love and you always rolled your eyes at the entire idea, why would people deliberately go through relationships when most of them go down the pooper? That’s why you never did relationships.

And now for a second you judge Namjoon, this man is going through a rough patch in his life all because of his failed marriage, and yet again he’s right here, clearly developing feelings for you and choosing to go sort of the same path again.

“You’re right.” You nod. “I would be lying if I told you I didn’t like the man, I actually do and he ticks everything on my list, I just need to be careful, that’s all.”

“Good.” He squeezes your hand again for reassurance. “How good is the sex?”

Your drink goes through your nose and you actually choke, you cover your mouth and cough repeatedly trying to clear out your airway. “Shut up.” You manage to curse at him.

“What do you mean? Of course this can’t happen.” Her father is in mere denial, the divorce papers fall accidentally in his hands. Copies has been sent in the mail on Monday morning to him and his daughter.

She wanted this to happen long time ago but she didn’t realize that she’s dragging down her entire family with her. She too was silenced and forced by her father to do the whole thing since the beginning, so she saw it coming.

She’s going to have to pay for all the manipulation that was done by her family to Namjoon’s.

Namjoon didn’t even tell anyone about the divorce that was going to happen, he filed for it a little before he met you, and then when he did meet you, he knew that he cannot and will not end up with the woman he has under his roof, this can’t be his ending. So he called a few people and even paid his lawyer to help him end it faster.

Her on the other hand just locked the door behind her when she got back to their house, the mail is in her hand and although the title is already clear, she’s still confused by it..

Ministry of Justice,

Seoul family court, Gangnam.

Divorce Agreement.

With her full name on it, she squints her eyes and finally opens the mail eagerly, almost ripping the envelope, luckily Jay slept on the way home, she carried him into his bed before she opened the mail.

It’s her name, and Namjoon’s name, she did see it coming, but she never knew how she would react. But she’s breaking into cold sweat, worried what her family might think if they knew.

Her purpose of this marriage is long gone when she finished her education that was paid by Namjoon’s parents, her parents live off of his family now, but she never needed their money, she never bought herself clothes, makeup, or even anything she craved because it’s their money.

She didn’t pay actual money for her education, she paid her life when she decided to share it with Namjoon.

She despises him, the way he talks, the way he moves, his hands, his eyes, his face. She hates his sense of humor, his voice tone. She even hates the way he breathes or snores. She too, can’t end up with him.

And no matter how hard she tried to convince her family that she’d do anything to make them live a better life without the Kim’s, it ended up with fights and arguments and actual threats from them.

So she went with it, married the man, but she made a promise to herself, that she’s going to turn his life into hell, she never cared what would happen to him, or if it would hurt him or not, so she just went ahead.

And the divorce papers in her hand are the actual clue that her plan worked. But fuck, she knows that this divorce will wreck their lives. She’s terrified by her family.

The door unlocks and Namjoon walks in and he’s in his uniform since he just flew back from Gwangju, he doesn’t even bother to look at her, he kicks off his shoes and loosens his tie.

Something inside her tells her to just make things right, so she just hides the papers back into the envelope and quickly into her purse. “N-namjoon?”

He turns his back to her and walks into his room, closing the door behind him, he still doesn’t know that she got the papers.

She takes a few steps closer to the door and her hand hovers over the door knob, she’s a split second away from opening the door, but Namjoon locks it from the inside.

She doesn’t know what she wants, or what to do.

“Please? I’ve been wanting to go for a while.” He whines with a pout on his face that you can hear through the phone.

You’re in your bed, you were sleeping before he called you since you were on the previous night shift, you have the phone pressed against your ear with your eyes still closed, he’s been trying to convince you about the wine tasting tour.

“I’ll come pick you up, and you can call it a date.”

Your eyes are no longer closed when he speaks of a date this easily, you two haven’t been together alone in public other than the day of your conference, and it was a coincidence that day. But he’s asking you to go out on a date with him, and you weren’t even sure you were at that point yet.

“Joon—“ You sigh. “I don’t know.” Your phone starts vibrating in your hand and you look at the screen to find him requesting a video chat, and you don’t hesitate a second to accept the call.

Your faces meet and he’s lost at the sight of you for a second before he smiles, his pearly whites and dimples clearly visible. “You’re still in bed?” He asks, leaning his phone on the nightstand near his bed, you could see him topless and unzipping his pants.

“Yeah.” You rub your eyes and stretch, leaning your phone against the pillow next to yours and snuggling under the blanket. “How was your flight?”

“Don’t change the subject.” He smirks. “Are we going wine tasting tonight?” a smile creeps on your face before you click your tongue. “Let me think about it, I need time to decide.”

He puts his clothes on the couch next to his bed while laughing and walking back to his phone to grab it. “Alright. Until then, what are you wearing?” He licks on his bottom lip as he finally sits on his bed and lights up a cigarette.

You take a long breath before you teasingly look under your blanket.

It’s boiling hot outside, and you’ve had too many snacks on your shift that you couldn’t wait to get home and actually get rid of your scrubs, so you chose to sleep with only your panties.

“A ball gown.” You joke, barely stifling a smirk. And he laughs quietly, trying not to be loud. “I don’t believe you.”

“I like to dress to impress, mister Kim.” You giggle, he raises an eyebrow and blows a cloud of smoke. “Then show it to me.”

He knows you’re not wearing anything since he can see your bare shoulders, you have your blanket covering your upper half. “How was your flight again?” You ask and he rolls his eyes. “You’re such a tease.”

You crack a laugh at him before you finally nod. “Alright, I’ll go on the wine tasting tour with you.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at his phone screen. “I’ll come by this afternoon and we’ll be picked up from your place.”

Namjoon heard about this tour from one of the cabin crew earlier this week, and he’s been wanting to go since then and he wanted to go with you, he’s itching to show you off in public even when he still can’t and you two aren’t even labeled yet.

He enjoys your company so much, and he knows you do too, he can be himself around you and he knows he won’t be judged.

“Okay.” You yawn and snuggle into your blanket, still sleepy. “Can I get back to sleep?”

His lips curve into a little smile when he admires how cute you look when you’re tired and sleepy, he’s admiring your face for too long that he even forgot to answer you. “Namjoon?” You ask, which snaps him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, alright. I’ll see you later.”

You nod before you wave your hand to him, he waves back and finally ends the call and you go back to sleep.

Namjoon on the other hand, finishes booking for the tour while he’s taking the last few puffs of his cigarettes before his phone starts to glitch, it seems to be that there are two people calling him at the same time, and it’s his father and father in law, which makes him panic for a second.

Of course he decides to ignore his father in law’s call and call back his own father. “Dad?”

His father’s voice tone full of worry when speaks. “Namjoon? What’s the matter? Is it true what they’re talking about?”

Namjoon is completely clueless that everyone knows of the divorce now, he’s even clueless that his wife got the papers. “What are you talking about?”

“The divorce? Is it really happening?” He asks, and Namjoon doesn’t hesitate for a second to answer. “Yes dad, I made that decision on my own.”

“You two were incredible together, what’s the matter?” That makes Namjoon scoff, “Are you sure we can’t work things out?”

“No dad, nothing can fix this.” Namjoon swallows the dry lump in his throat, he regrets the years he spent with his wife, he wishes he can just erase that chapter from his life because it did engrave a type of trauma into him.

His father is in denial and so is his father in law, everything seemed to be okay to them, but they never saw anything behind closed doors.

“Please tell him to never contact me, and if he has anything to say, tell him to save it until the day of the hearing.” Namjoon says with a solid tone, not willing to negotiate the entire thing what so ever.

“When’s your hearing?” His father asks and Namjoon answers. “September 12th.”

An audible sigh escapes his father’s mouth. “But son, that’s your birthday.”

“I know, and I got everything under control dad, don’t worry.” Namjoon’s stomach drops when he speaks of the hearing, he feels extremely anxious and impatiient.

He’s confident that after going through this difficult and challenging experience, he will be starting fresh and new that day.

He cannot wait to feel reborn.

285 notes · View notes

stranger-nightmare · 2 years

Text

𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 (’𝐓𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (female) Reader

Summary: you and Eddie know you have to go back into the upside down to save Nancy, and so you spend one final night together before certain doom…

Warnings: it’s that good shit, that angsty smut goodness, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex (m+f), multiple orgasms, minors DNI, also season 4 spoilers

A/N: ahhh I was so so excited about this idea so I really hope everyone likes it!! it’s kinda long but I promise it’s worth it, I really like this one so I hope you do too! inspiration and title are taken from Save a Prayer by Duran Duran, like I’d highly recommend listening to this song whilst reading this if you can / want to bc the vibes are just immaculate!! I really hope you guys enjoy this <33

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

After escaping the upside down through the gate at Eddie’s trailer the whole gang had now reconvened at the Wheeler house. Thankfully Karen and Ted had taken Holly for some kind of weekend trip, meaning the house was empty and free to be used as your base for now.

You’d already sent the kids, aka. Dustin, Max, Lucas, and Erica, down to the basement to keep safe whilst the rest of you were in the kitchen discussing the ongoing plan.

“Our next move for now is for everyone to get some rest. We’ll go back in at dawn” Steve states firmly, his arms crossed over his chest tightly.

You and Robin both scoff incredulously.

“Dawn?! Are you being serious?” You exclaim at the same time Robin yells “we can’t just leave her there for that long!”

You were about to launch yourself at Steve, to yell in his face about how you need to go back now. Right now.

But you feel an arm slide around your waist, pulling you until your back hit someone’s chest. You feel the familiar warmth of your boyfriend Eddie as he holds you gently in place, his thumb stroking your stomach reassuringly where his arm was now wrapped around you.

Steve looks at you all. His voice may be firm but his composure certainly wasn’t. He was lightly shaking, from fear or from rage you weren’t quite sure. Perhaps it was both.

“Listen to me” he says through gritted teeth. “No one wants to go rushing in to Nancy back more than me, believe me.”

He pauses for a moment before continuing.

“But we’re all exhausted. We’re weak. We’d be no use to her right now. And we’d be no use to each other either. We need to rest, we need to recharge. Then we need to reload with whatever weapons and shit we can find. Then, then we go back for her” Steve finishes with a shaky breath.

You and Robin were both about to disagree when you hear Eddie’s voice cut from behind you.

“Steve’s right. Going in now whilst we're all this beat would just be a suicide mission. We need some rest, even if it is only for a few hours” you feel him shrug behind you.

You twist in his arm, his hand now resting on the small of your back as you look up at him incredulously.

“But-“ you’re about to start but Eddie gently cuts you off, looking at you in the eyes now as he speaks.

“Look, Nancy is smart. And she’s tough. She’ll know how to hide herself for a few hours, and if worse comes to worst, that girl can kick some serious ass when she needs to” he gives you a soft, reassuring smile.

Eddie moves the hand that wasn't on your stomach to cup your face his thumb stroking your cheek.

“She’ll be okay” he hums to you. “She’ll be okay” he looks over to Steve, trying to sound convincing.

But you can tell he’s trying to convince himself too just as much as the rest of you.

“Dawn is only a couple of hours away as it is, let’s just go get some sleep whilst we can. We’ll meet back in the kitchen at six, got it?” Steve finalises.

As much as you hated it you had to admit Steve was probably right. Your body was exhausted, aching, sore, and grimy from running through the upside down and beating the shit out of those demobats. Right now you felt so weak you weren’t even sure you’d make it up the stairs to the spare bedroom where you’d be spending the night.

Steve gives a final nod before turning on his heel and heading up the stairs for the night. Robin gives you a final sympathetic look before she too leaves the room.

Eddie kisses your temple gently and murmurs softly against your skin.

“Come on baby, let’s get some sleep.”

He gives your ass a light pat, but it’s more of soft, comfort gesture rather than anything crude or sexual.

You nod and sniff back the tears that were fighting to break through.

You and Eddie find your way to the spare room, right at the end of the hall, passing Steve who was spending the night in the Wheeler’s parents’ room, and Robin who was in Nancy’s room.

As soon as the door closes behind you, you shuck off Eddie’s leather jacket that he’d given to you when you were in the upside down. Steve still had the denim vest.

Eddie sighs tiredly and begins removing the mountain of decorative pillows that adorned the spare bed.

Whilst he’s busy your eyes scan over the room, eventually landing on a picture frame. The picture sat atop the desk that was positioned against the wall opposite the foot of the bed. It was a picture of the Wheeler family together. Karen, Ted, Holly, Mike, and Nancy.

Nancy.

You feel your body begin to tremble, a sob lodging in your throat. It feels as though your body might break apart from the fear and the terror that coursed through you. You wrap your arms around your body as you feebly try to hold yourself together.

It doesn’t take a second for Eddie to notice and come rushing to your aid. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight into his chest, as if he too was trying to keep you from breaking apart.

“Hey hey hey, shhh” he whispers, his breath tickling the top of your head.

You can feel him twist his head in the direction of the desk, glancing at the picture that had set you off.

“She’ll be okay. She’ll be okay” he tries to be reassuring, stroking your hair as he holds you, but you can hear the uncertainty in his voice.

What Eddie hadn’t realised is that it wasn’t the picture of Nancy that had set you off again. Not exactly.

Eddie didn’t realise that you’d shifted focus whilst staring at the frame, the picture itself going blurry. You were staring at the glass covering the picture. You were staring at the reflection.

The reflection of Eddie behind you.

You shake your head against Eddie’s chest.

“It’s not Nancy I’m worried about” you snivel, trying to contain the sob that was still sat in your throat.

Eddie pulls back slightly to look at you, but he keeps his arms securely locked around you. He raises a questioning eyebrow at you, but you keep your eyes trained on his chest, on the chain that’s looped around his neck. You knew if you looked into those big dark eyes of his you’d lose it completely.

“I mean it is, obviously, of course I’m worried about her” you stammer quickly. “But… I just…” a shuddering breath cuts off your speech as you squeeze your eyes shut and attempt once again to compose yourself.

“What? What is it baby?” Eddie asks gently.

You bite your quivering lip as you unfold your arms so that you can fist them into Eddie’s shirt. You ball your fists so tight into the fabric that it hurts. But you don’t care, you were so scared that letting go would somehow result in losing him.

You keep your eyes balled shut as you speak.

“I’m just so scared Eddie” you whisper. “We barely made it out last time as it was, and now we have to go back, and I just…” your voice cracks as a shudder racks through your body.

“I can’t… I can’t lose you” you sob.

“Hey shhh” Eddie tries to soothe you again, running his hands up and down your back.

But you can feel the tremble in his fingers as they move across your body and you know he’s close to breaking down himself. His hands eventually find their way to your face and cup your cheeks gently, the cold metal of his rings stinging your skin.

“Baby, look at me. Please” his voice is quiet.

You sniff again before opening your eyes to find those gorgeous brown ones staring back at you. His eyes almost looked black in the dark of the room. But above that you could see the glassy reflection of the tears that he was fighting to hold back himself.

Instead of actually saying anything Eddie just tilts his head until his lips find yours. His mouth latches onto yours softly, pressing gently. Yet despite the softness of his mouth there was an undercurrent of urgency in his lips, a feeling of desperation, of a need to just completely and wholly devour you. He presses his lips against yours a few more times before he slowly begins to open your mouth with his own, his tongue sliding against yours delicately. You feel another tear leak from your eye as you become overwhelmed by the moment.

Eddie’s one hand is flat against your back, pushing your body against his, his fingers digging into your skin. His other hand was cupping the back of your neck tightly, titling your head towards his. Your body was flush against his, the buckle of his belt and the chains on his jeans cutting roughly into your hip bones. His lips mould against yours, the kiss tasting of tears, both yours and his. The taste of him. It was all leaving you dizzy.

Eddie pulls his lips from yours, resting his forehead back against yours, his eyes staring at nothing. He takes a shaky breath before clearing his throat softly.

“You saw me standing by the wall corner of a main street…” Eddie sings softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, broken with barely contained tears.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion but Eddie carries on nonetheless.

“And the lights are flashing on your window sill.”

You’d already immediately recognised the lyrics from the first line. Save a Prayer was one of your favourite songs, and Eddie knew that.

“Eddie, wha-“

“Shh” he whispers gently before carrying on his hushed singing.

“All alone ain't much fun, so you’re looking for the thrill” Eddie slowly begins to sway from side to side, the two of moving together as you stay enveloped in each other’s arms. “And you know just what it takes and where to go.”

As he reaches the chorus he lifts those beautiful brown eyes of his to meet yours.

“Don’t say a prayer for me now, save it ��til the morning after. No, don’t say a prayer for me now, save it ’til the morning after...”

He keeps the two of you swaying lightly as he continues to hum through the rest of the song. As you focus on his voice, on the words, you feel yourself start to relax the slightest bit. Your hands unclench from his shirt and move to wrap around his neck, holding him as if the two of you were slow-dancing at prom instead of at the edge of the world. Most of the words are nothing more than a hum to your ears, only certain lines and lyrics sticking out to you.

“And you wanted to dance so asked you to dance but fear is in your soul, some people call it a one night stand, but we can call it paradise” Eddie places a quick kiss to the tip of your nose at this line and you sniff as another tears races down your cheek.

He hums the last few lyrics before he finally reaches the end of his small serenade.

“No don’t say a prayer for me now” he speaks the words soflty now, so quietly you wouldn’t have heard them if his face wasn’t this close to yours. “Save it for the morning after. For when we make it out. Together” his voice is raspy as holds back his own tears.

You open your mouth to speak but Eddie takes the opportunity to crash his lips back onto yours with a bruising urgency. This is kiss is more heated than before, vibrant and urgent, alive with need. He kisses you with every fibre of his being, savouring every taste, every feel of your delicate mouth. You could feel it in his lips; despite what he’d just said he was still kissing you like this really was your last night on Earth.

You both moan desperately into the kiss, your lips parting for the other. Eddie’s tongue slides against your own, moving with a fervour you’d never felt from him before. His hands move to your hips, pulling you impossibly close against his body again. Your mind is spinning, feeling drunk with the intensity of the kiss. Your senses become completely overwhelmed by everything Eddie. His touch, his smell, his taste, the sound of his soft groans against your mouth. Your mind was dizzy with trying to make a note of it all, just in case this was the last night you’d get to enjoy this, to enjoy him.

Eddie parts his lips from yours briefly as he pulls his dirty Hellfire shirt off his body. Eddie places a chaste kiss to your lips before he’s pulling off your ruined shirt too. Your shirt hadn’t even hit the floor before Eddie’s mouth was back on yours, his body moving to fit against yours. One of his hands cups the back of your neck again, not letting your lips leave his for even a second. His other hand swiftly undoes the back of your bra, letting it pop open. You keep kissing him as you shimmy your arms and let your bra fall to the floor. You push your bare chest up against his, moaning at the feeling of his skin against yours.

It was all so real. Eddie was here, in front of you, holding you in his arms, his lips moving with yours. It was grounding, steadying and comforting in the way it made you dizzy. It was all so beautifully contradictory to the chaos of the upside down where you’d been not an hour ago.

Eddie then gently guides your hips, walking you over to the bed until the back of your knees hit the edge. He looks down at you with such love and adoration swirling in those dark eyes of his you swear your heart is gonna burst. He lays you down on the bed gently, his hand cupping your head again as he slowly lowers you down onto the mattress. He’s quick to take his place hovering above you, his hips slotting between yours. He kisses your lips once again before he moves to kiss across your jaw, moving down your neck, to your collarbones. He takes his time, kissing as much of your skin as he possibly can whilst he gradually makes his way down your body. He gives each of your nipples a soft peck before kissing down the valley between your breasts, following the line down the centre of your stomach.

Your nails are raking down his back as he moves down your body. You were overwhelmed with the need to just be touching him, holding him, at all times; desperate to not let him go. He reaches the waistband of your jeans and kisses the bare skin just above. He then looks up at you again with those unfathomably gorgeous eyes. You keep your eyes on each other as he undoes your jeans, gently but swiftly removing them and your panties off your body.

Eddie hooks his arms behind your thighs, spreading you open before him. But his eyes still never leave yours as he begins an assault of kisses across your inner thighs. He kisses up your leg, right up to the apex of your thigh, his breath fanning over where you ached for him. It wasn't that he was teasing you, he simply wanted this moment to last, to remember every detail about your body, how it responds to his touch, how you sound, how you taste. You squirm lightly, your hips pushing upwards, begging for his touch, a whimper leaving your throat.

“Shhhh baby, I’ve got you” he whispers tenderly, his lips tickling the skin of your thigh.

He places one more kiss to each thigh before you finally feel his tongue swipe between your folds. Your head immediately falls back against the pillows, your back arching as Eddie starts to swirl his tongue around your clit. You gasp softly when he hums lightly, the vibrations moving through your sensitive bud.

Eddie eats you exactly the way he knows you like, with a soft swirling and sucking motion. Under any normal circumstances he would be switching techniques just to keep things interesting. But this wasn’t about interesting. This was about making you feel as good as he possibly could. He keeps the pressure reasonably light, only varying the speed. He knew you were a fan of those big, slow build orgasms rather than the quick ones that could come on a little too intensely for your liking sometimes.

Your hand fists in his hair as he slowly but surely works you towards a climax, licking and sucking your clit expertly. Your entire body is alight with pleasure, with the overwhelming sensation that you were alive. Your moans get higher and higher in pitch the closer you get to cumming. You struggle to lift your head back up but you wanted to look at him. You wanted to see him as he took you over the edge into the realm of pleasure. When your eyes meet his again you both moan softly.

Your chest rises and falls quickly, panting as your orgasm finally burns through your body. Your pussy tightens and clenches as Eddie softly works you through your high. He keeps his pressure light and slow again, enough to milk out your orgasm, but not enough to overwhelm you and make you too sensitive. It’s only when your thighs start to tremble beside his head, your body shuddering lightly, that he stops altogether. He kisses his way back your body again, but this time he doesn’t take his time. He moves his lips swiftly up your body until his mouth finds yours once again.

You grab his hair and practically smash his face against yours. This kiss is just as desperate and frantic as before, messy with urgency. Your teeth clash, your tongues colliding. You practically whimper when you taste yourself on his tongue, your fingers knotting even tighter into his hair. He groans deeply into the kiss, his fingers bruising your skin where they held so tightly onto your waist, keeping you against him.

He gives your hips a quick squeeze before releasing you. Eddie does his best to keep his lips attached to yours, even as his focus falters for a moment as he fiddles with the fastening to his own jeans. He quickly undoes the handcuffs that serve as his belt buckle and pushes his jeans down his legs, kicking them off to the side somewhere.

You moan and grind your hips against his bulge, the thin fabric of his boxers doing nothing to stop you feeling how hard he was. He groans deep within his chest as your pussy grinds against him. He kisses you again just before he pulls his boxers off, finally freeing his aching and leaking cock. Eddie moves his arm to rest next your head, leaning on his elbow so his hand could cup your face.

His face overs just above yours, your breathes mixing, your eyes completely mesmerised by the other's. Both your eyes are glassy, those barely held back tears dancing on the surface. You both stare at each others face’s intently, as if you were each mapping the picture into your brains, hoping this image would be seared in there forever.

You’re so lost in the moment, so lost in the dark pits of his eyes, that you almost miss Eddie’s lips moving softly. He speaks so quietly you can’t actually hear the words, but you understand them nonetheless. It’s almost as if you feel them rather than hear them: “I love you.”

At the same moment you feel Eddie’s tip push gently into your entrance. A tiny squeak lodges in your throat as Eddie pushes inside you slowly. Your hands tense around his shoulders as you feel the beautiful burn of him stretching you out. Eddie’s forehead drops to rest against your own, his pants fanning over your face as he gives you a second to adjust to him.

After a moment you nudge your nose against his, pushing your lips to his again, signalling for him to move. He kisses you back feverishly as he begins to move his hips in long, slow thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back deep inside you.

Your moans get lost in his mouth as he gradually picks up his speed, setting a steady, but intense, rhythm. He focuses on pushing as deep inside you as he can with each thrust rather than focusing on speed. He was aiming to hit that sweet spot inside you with each snap of his hips. His face stays right above yours, his eyes staying on your face, your lips occasionally connecting in the odd sloppy kiss between your breathy moans.

You arch your back, pushing your tits against against his chest, the need to be impossibly close to him taking over you again. Your nails rake down his back, pushing his body flush against yours. Your legs move to lock around his ass, pushing him deeper inside you, causing both of you to moan softly.

“Fuck” Eddie murmurs under his breath, his face screwing with pleasure as you squeeze him against you.

Eddie’s body shudders above you, his forehead pushing against yours. He kisses your nose sweetly before he tucks his head into your neck, kissing all over your skin. The hand that rested on your hip slowly travels back up your body, sending shivers through you as his fingers dance across your skin. His hand wraps around your arm, pulling it off his body. You whimper at the loss of contact, still so desperate to be clinging onto him. But Eddie just smiles softly and kisses the inside of your elbow. His hand slides up your arm, gently pushing it up and above you as he does so. When his hand reaches yours he laces his fingers with your own. The cold of his chain bracelet stings your wrist. You can feel the slight tremble in his fingers again as he pushes your entwined hands down into the mattress.

You twist your head towards where your hands were entwined, your forehead brushing against them. Eddie moans against your throat as he takes advantage of the new position, kissing the side of your neck he now had access to. Eddie’s other hand moves away from your face, stroking down your body until it lands on your hip, palming the top of your thigh. You gasp, your body lurching into his touch, when you feel the pad of his thumb connect with your clit, rubbing it in small circles.

Your moans pitch in tone as you feel your body warm with pleasure again, your lower belly tightening with a knot of euphoria. Eddie hears your whines and makes his way back up your neck until his lips are tickling your ear.

“Are you close?” He pants in a hushed whisper.

You twist your head back to face him and nod, your noses brushing as you do so. He kisses your lips desperately again, your moans mingling just as your tongues did.

“Good” he sighs into your mouth. “I want you to cum with me. Cum with me, baby. Please cum with me” his voice cracks with pleasure as he begs you.

You nod silently again, your forehead rubbing against his.

“Cum with me” he repeats with a whimper as his thrusts start to lose their steady pace.

Your eyes meet his again, lidded heavy with pleasure. One last look into the depths of his eyes finally has you tipping over the edge once again.

“Oh, Eddie” you moan faintly, your voice barely audible as you feel the pleasure burn through your body.

You mouth a silent “oh fuck” as your body convulses, your hand squeezing Eddie’s, your cunt clenching around his cock as you feel it twitch inside you. Eddie grunts loudly, his hand squeezing yours just as hard, as he releases inside you. His hips still, pushing into you as deep as he could as he shudders above you.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck I love you” he murmurs into your mouth as he fucks you shakily through both your highs.

Your other hand goes to cup the back of his head again, pulling his face close to yours.

“I love you” you whisper against his cheek through heavy breathes.

He groans at your words and sloppily catches your lips with his again. Both of you are trembling, your lips quivering even as you desperately try to keep kissing each other.

After staying like that for a moment Eddie moves to place a quick kiss to your cheek before he slowly pulls out of you. You whimper at the loss of contact, your nails digging into his flesh so tight you were almost certainly going to pierce it.

“Shhh it’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll only be a minute” he hums quietly, his thumb stroking your cheek.

He stands up and pads over to the en-suite bathroom, picking his boxers back up on the way. As promised, not a minute later he comes back with two towels, both wetted with warm water. He’s pulled his boxers back on and you can tell he’s given himself a quick wipe down, the grime and dirt from the upside down now faded from his face.

Eddie sits on the edge of the bed next to you. He takes one of the towels and begins to gently wipe you down, cleaning your inner thighs and ruined pussy where they’d been stained by both yours and his cum. You hear him gently humming under his breath, the tune to Save a Prayer vibrating quietly through the air again.

Once he’s cleaned the remnants of your climaxes he takes the other clean towel and begins to help wipe down any grime from the upside down that still stained your skin. He wipes your neck, your arms, shoulders, anywhere that was directly exposed during your visit to the other realm. He cleans your face gently, giving you a quick boop on the nose once he’s finished. You scrunch your nose at him and he mimics the gesture in return.

Eddie gets up to toss the towels onto the bathroom floor. On his way back to you he finds your underwear and throws them back to you. Normally he’d also give you his shirt to sleep in but alas his Hellfire shirt was still wet and filthy from the upside down. So, for tonight, you would just have to go without. Not that you were really complaining; you were planning to hold this boy so close to you once he got back into bed you wouldn’t need the warmth of a shirt anyway.

You pull on your panties, feeling a little cleaner than before, and then wiggle your way under the covers. The entire time you keep your eyes fixed on Eddie, still fearing that if you took your eyes off him for even a second he might somehow disappear. You were grateful for the fact he was still humming Duran Duran under his breath too. It was just another thing for you to focus on, giving you comfort in his presence. Eddie hums to himself as he gathers the rest of yours and his clothes, putting them in various places across the room so they could dry a bit overnight.

Before long Eddie is padding his way back to the bed and crawling in beside you. He’s barely atop the mattress for a second before you jump him again, throwing your arms around his neck and crashing his swollen lips to yours. Despite your best efforts to calm yourself you feel tears sting your eyes as your lips move with his.

Eddie’s hands move to cup your face again, his thumbs stroking away your tears.

“Shhh” he whispers gently.

He smiles at you tenderly, a tear cascading down his own cheek.

“Don’t say a prayer for me now…” he sings quietly, trailing off at the end, his eyebrow quirking at you with a kind of playful sadness.

You can’t help but give him the tiniest of smiles in return as you finish the line for him.

“Save it for the morning after” you whisper, your voice cracking with tears.

“Mhmm” he hums softly, kissing you again.

“We’ll be okay, sweetheart” he looks at you fervently, his eyes flashing with strained determination.

You can feel the tremble in his arms as they hold you, the waiver in his voice, and know he’s lying. He’s just as unsure and terrified as you are. But you simply smile at him sadly and rest your forehead against his once again.

Perhaps the two of you wouldn’t make it out the other side. But for right now it didn’t matter. He was here, in your arms, holding you so tight it almost hurt.

Tonight you had eternity in each other’s arms.

Masterlist

A/N: I’m both horny and in emotional turmoil after this asdhfkflld I hope you guys liked it!! <3 also happy stranger things vol.2 day, I’ll see you all on the other side...

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

#stranger nightmare #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things angst #stranger things imagine #joseph quinn #joseph quinn smut

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 4 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 59

Part 1 Part 58

“Please, Steve!” Nancy’s wheedling voice drifts to Eddie as he rounds the corner. “Jonathan already said no because he’s trick-or-treating, so it’s just going to be me and Barb.”

Steve’s leaning against his locker, frowning down at Nancy. It’s reminiscent of the year before, when the pair were circling each other like monkeys in heat, only it’s knocked on its head. Maybe even…upside down. Eddie chuckles, sidling up to lean against Steve by the lockers, knocking their shoulders together. A united front in the face of a determined Nancy Wheeler.

“Are you saying Barb’s not enough for you, Miss Wheeler?” Eddie asks, faux shocked. He puts a hand to his chest, swooning into Steve’s side just to make him laugh.

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Obviously not.” She’s clearly exasperated by Eddie’s presence. Somehow, almost a year of being friend’s-once-removed hasn’t warmed either of them up. Although, if all the interdimensional ass-kicking couldn’t do it, why would anything else? “It’s just–” she trails off, looking down at the books she has clasped daintily to her chest.

Eddie can almost feel Steve thawing beside him. God damn it. “Just what?” he asks softly.

Nancy peeks up at him from beneath her eyelashes. She doesn’t even look at Eddie. What a conniving little twerp. “Neither of us have been to a party since, well–” she stalls, tucking a curl behind her ear. “You know.” She whispers the last bit, looking around like she expects the men in suits to burst out of the walls because she mentioned a party from last year.

Steve stiffens next to him. Eddie takes a surreptitious step closer, glaring down at Nancy. Not that she has the decency to even notice. “None of us have gone to a party since, Wheeler,” he hisses.

Steve elbows him in the ribs. Like he’s the problem in this scenario. Eddie backs down, slumping down into the lockers and crossing his arms with a loud huff. Time to let Mommy and Daddy figure it out. Eddie grimaces, disgusted by his own thoughts.

Steve sighs, rubbing his face vigorously with his hands. “One hour,” he says, muffled through his palms.

“Seriously?” Eddie demands.

“Yes!” Nancy says, raising her hand in a tiny fist pump that would’ve been endearing on literally anyone else. “I’ll see you there!” She’s beaming as she turns around, walking away with a new bounce in her step.

“Where are we going?” Eddie demands.

Steve lowers his palms, sliding them down his skin, slowly revealing each tantalizing bit of his perfect face. “Were you invited?” Steve asks, turning and walking away.

“Dude, I know where you sleep!” He does not shout out in the halls of Hawkins High in bumfuck Indiana that where he sleeps is with Eddie in his bed. He has some self-preservation left.

Steve laughs, elbowing him in the ribs again. Same spot, too, the asshole. “Tina’s Halloween party?”

“Are you serious?” When Steve nods, he continues. “Ugh, Stevie, you’ve gotta stop letting Wheeler shoehorn you into these things. She’s the worst!” Eddie whines, drawing out the vowels in ‘worst’ past recognition.

“She’s not that bad,” Steve says, but he’s smiling. “You’re just her like–what’s it called? That stuff that always trips up Superman. Dustin mentioned it?”

He looks over at Eddie, a cute look of puzzlement on his face. Eddie wants to boop his nose, so he does, watching as Steve goes cross-eyed trying to follow the movement. “You mean Kryptonite?”

Steve snaps his fingers, smiling dorkily. “That’s it!”

Eddie’s heart flops pitifully in his ribcage. What a fucking nerd, dear god. “Okay, but do we have to go to a stupid party because Nancy Wheeler of all people wants us to?”

Steve shrugs, still smiling as they walk down the emptying corridors. “Last time we got kidnapped by a monster from a hell dimension, so really, Munson.” Steve claps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, rubbing his hair like he’s one of the bastard children. “Things can only go up from here!”

Eddie can’t help the way he almost shrieks with laughter, almost bringing Steve down with the way he goes boneless. “You’re a total jinx!”

“Maybe, but you love me!”

Steve Harrington says it nonchalantly, like he’s not currently holding him up off the cold linoleum. Eddie’s heart does an unfortunate splitter splatter splat at Steve’s feet. Because fuck. He does.

Part 60

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #steddie upsidedown au #my fic #I'm so excited for the next part!

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oumaheroes · 1 month

Note

[8] + fruk? idk, it sounds like something they'd hardly tell each other but I figured it's a challenge you could enjoy solving. :) i love your writing btw. Thank you for sharing it with the world. <3

[8] 'I love you'

Both of these asks are so so old but I enjoy a challenge, Anons! Took me a while but I got there in the end. Hope you like!

Characters: France, England, FrUK

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Love Is...

'You're not entirely intolerable.'

England says this to him in warm candlelight, yellows and orange hues dancing gently on his cheek and across his nose. On his back, no less, looking up at France with wine soft eyes amongst expensive coverlets and pillows of a borrowed palace bed.

France's hands are busy, one supporting him, one not, and thus he knows there is some bias to England’s words.

If it were darker, less candlelight and more masking cover, maybe they would be more true. England had always been gentler in the shadows, safer when he feels he can't be seen.

'Shame the same cannot be said for you.' France says in reply, and bites him hard on the shoulder.

-------------

'You can be useful.'

France sounds surprised.

England clenches his jaw. 'Fuck you.'

'I'm serious.' France twirls the pointed end of his share knife into England thick wooden table. 'There may yet be hope in regards to you being anything of value.'

It is France's own knife, at least, that he is blunting. Gilded- overly so, so it's almost more decorative than usable. Almost. France does so like to find those lines and tease them.

The remains of a meal are pushed aside, a map open and curling long between them instead like a dried up sea. England wants to grab the knife out of France’s hand and jab it in his eye but he doesn’t. He needs France, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, needs his help sweet talking the French nobility and keeping his King in check and so refrains from lunging across the table. Swallows bitterness down and looks from the maimed table to the map.

The French coastline looks alien upside-down but England doesn’t ask France to turn it around.

‘So.’ France’s voice is silky and low, ‘Can you deliver on your end?’

England thinks of his own King, thinks of his endless envy that is great enough to engulf his nation’s pride. He nods.

France clicks his tongue, ‘What a surprise.’

-------------

‘Where have you been?’ A nation who will one day be England pouts and crosses his arms across his chest, ‘I’ve been waiting here for hours’.

‘It wasn’t hours.’ A nation who will one day be France looks about the bank of the tree where England is sat in distain, ‘The ground is wet.’

‘You’re late.’ England insists, ‘You said you would be here by noon. And wet ground is better to write in.’

‘It’s still noon. Couldn’t you have picked somewhere sunnier? The ground hasn’t dried here; where will I sit.’

‘Are you stupid?’ England holds out an arm and gestures to the shadow it makes upon the floor with another. It is slightly longer than noon would provide, ‘Does that look like noon?’

‘Do you want me to help, or not.’

‘No.’

France sighs, ‘Fine. Do you want me to do this the easy way or the hard way.’

England kicks at a small stone and it bumps a little ways down the small pathway along the edge of the wheat field he’s been biding his time in. This France knows, because there’s chaff caught in his hair and dusting amongst the mud of the dampened hem of his cloak.

‘I already know how to write letters,’ England grumbles, ‘Rome made me learn his, and they’re exactly the same as your ones. Why do I have to do this all again.’

‘Because after Rome, you learnt some barbarian ones, and now I want to make you presentable. These are things any decent, proper nation should know.’ France dusts down England’s hair, ‘And it’s very hard to bring you up to par when you keep avoiding my visits and moving from castle to castle.’

England shakes his head and looks away.

‘You should stay with the King,’ France says pointedly, ‘Not move about the strongholds like a vagabond. You shouldn’t show your earls too much favour.’

France sees England hold himself back from speaking. He knows what England wants to say and is relieved when he keeps the several possible and difficult arguments to himself. An improvement, but maybe only because there’s no one else to hear.

‘Move.’ England says suddenly. He picks up a stick that France had failed to notice, propped up ready to go against a thick root, and waves him out of the way and off the flat dirt road. He begins scrawling in the ground in rigid, sharp strokes. ‘If I write “go fuck yourself” in Latin, Norman, and French, will you do so?’

-------------

‘I don't always hate you.’

France says this so quietly that England almost didn’t hear him. He wouldn’t have done, if he didn’t know France’s voice and his habits so well. He halts, the quiet palace yawning open unseen down the darkened passage ahead.

From the corner of his eye, England sees France shift where he leans in the archway. He was so still that England hadn’t noticed him as he walked, his dark shape held like a statue in shadows. Now that he knows he’s there, England can almost see the glint of silver threads in the moonlight, fine clothes on a man made just as much from the dirt as he.

A shift of fabric as France moves again. England stares ahead and does not look at him.

‘You may not believe that, but it’s true.’ France offers quietly. ‘I don’t like to think that you believe otherwise.’

‘I don’t like that you make me believe so.’

A pause. England can hear the sounds of the evening: distant footsteps on flagstones, the rustle of trees in the orchard beyond the stone courtyard walls. The smells of thousands of past summers on the warm breeze, blurring the edges of the era and turning the night endless.

The moment stretches, full and expectant. Then, a sigh.

It passes.

France does not reply, and England walks away.

-------------

‘Are you coming with me?’

France snorts. ‘I am offended that you would ever think that I would.’

‘Oh fuck off. Come on.’ England’s eyes are dangerously captivating, ‘You’re just as bored as I am.’

‘Unlike yourself, I am able to find joy in the finer things.’

‘Francis, this is the worst fucking ball we’ve been to in centuries.’

France winces, ‘Yes, but the food is at least good. And the people here are-‘

‘All over fifty.’

‘We are over fifty. And they’re-’

‘Boring.’

‘Important.’ France corrects, ‘They are important, my dear.’

England scoffs and looks across the lacklustre and lethargic dancefloor, couples with outdated clothes and dour expressions stiffly moving in their formations. He swirls his wine in his glass and points with it shamelessly, ‘Important for what, exactly.’

‘To be seen by. To talk politics with. To encourage away from silly decisions that will ruin my skin for the next decade.’

‘And the younger important people? Or heaven forbid, any fun ones? Where are they?’

France shrugs with one shoulder helplessly, ‘The Viscount is... particular.’

England raises and eyebrow and France shrugs, ‘Fine. It is dull. He is dull, and these are all his dull friends. What do you want me to say, the money is here but the life is gone. I’m not blind, Arthur.’

England adjusts the lace of France’s collar, straightening it from where a point has curled under itself, ‘Well, I’m going to the inn on Perry street. That’s where the kitchen boy told me-‘

‘The one with the hair, or the one with the funny leg?’

‘The one with the teeth.’

France shakes his head, ‘Poor boy. Sugar is a terrible thing, I wonder when people will pick up on that.’

England rolls his eyes and downs his wine. France winces, ‘That was expensive.’

‘Good. I’m off.’ England kisses his cheek quickly, the powdered hairs of his wig tickling France’s neck, ‘Have fun somehow being the most interesting thing in the room for a change.’

‘Ha ha.’

France watches England carelessly drop his very expensive glass onto a passing waiter’s tray and tuts at him, ‘You’re too over-dressed for a common inn, you’ll get mugged.’

‘I’ll manage.’

‘I’m sure you will. When I find your naked corpse in a hedge tomorrow, don’t tell me I didn’t tell you so.’

‘I tell you your make-up makes you look like sun bleached fish every day, and yet you still wear it.’

France huffs and turns away. He hears the clip of England’s shoes as he slips behind a curtain until his steps soften, sights fixed on the dancers. The crowds in the edges of the hall, in the dark corners where candles cannot find them, have a low murmuring buzz that heaves itself above the orchestra enough to give life to the odd word of two. None of them give France any hope.

Once he is sure no one noticed England leave, France downs his own wine and pushes himself away from the wall to join him.

------------

‘Be careful.’

England blinks, confused.

It is dark, moonlight all they have to go by, and they are watching British soldiers pour out from and over French beaches into hungry, waiting boats. Months of planning, countless sleepless nights and hours held stressed and tense in the wait for scraps of coded information has lead them here, to this. To men running through waves, to home so close and yet so far, and a flight through the dark to get stranded soldiers home before France falls.

England feels hollow. His chest feels concaved, an empty feeling of something like relief rotting and curdling there at the thought that this momentous victory is in the grand scheme of things, nothing at all. A huge success merely only for how difficult any small victory is. And still a failure because... because-

France’s hand brushes his. England swallows and entwines their fingers together.

‘You’re the one who should be careful.’ He says.

France squeezes his fingers. ‘If-‘

‘Don’t.’

‘-If.’ France’s grip tightens, ‘If, Arthur. Just be careful. I’ll be fine. It’s you who-‘

France breaks off.

‘I won’t.’ England says. He takes a deep breath in. ‘Not me. Not yet.’

‘I would be deeply embarrassed for you, if you do. It’s shameful. To a child, and one raised by Gilbert, no less.’

England snorts and smooths his thumb over France’s knuckle before he breaks them apart. He tugs down his uniform, wishing for gold trimming and a deep red coat, and smooth wood of a longbow.

D-Day unfolds in the muddied, darkened shallows of Dunkirk beach, and two empires watch the world turn over and into something new.

------------

‘Move over.’

France wakes to a knee in the small of his back. ‘A.. Arthur?’

‘Francis, move.’

Bewildered, France obediently shuffles over and there’s a gasp of cold air as England lifts the covers to climb inside. ‘What are...?’

‘Shh!’

France hears the heavy drapes around his bed being rearranged, then gets another knee in his back as England burrows down next to him.

France turns over. In the darkened room and behind thick curtains, England is nothing more than a source of warmth and the feeling of being watched. ‘What are you doing here.’

‘This is my castle, isn’t it?’

‘It’s one of your King’s castles, yes.’

‘Well then.’

‘But you weren’t here.’ France whispers, When we arrived. ‘He is very upset. He says you shame him.’

‘He shames me.’ England’s cool hands find themselves under France’s back, ‘The grandson of a usurper has nothing to do with me.’

‘Arthur.’ France cautions, but then stops. It is not the time, nor place. Nor, he knows, his place, really, to say anything at all. He places his hand on the cool skin of England’s arm and squeezes it, ‘I’m happy you’re here now. Apart from all the dirt you’ve likely tracked into the bed.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘I can smell it. You smell like outside.’

‘Outside doesn't have a smell.’

It does. Brought in to a human space where it doesn’t belong, the night air that clings to England’s hair and skin is earthy and cool. Fresh and foreign amongst wood fires and the fresh thresh on the floors.

‘I changed.’ England insists, seemingly having taken France’s lack of answer as an argument, ‘I do have nightclothes, you know. I’m not a savage.’

‘Hmm.’

England wriggles his fingers under France’s back to the soft parts of his sides and France can’t help but yelp as they tickle.

‘I was in York but heard you were leaving.’ England says, ‘Did you want to go riding before you go?’

‘We go Tuesday.’ France whispers, conscious of the servants littered about the room asleep. How England crept past them all or even got into the castle so quietly in the first place, he’ll never know. ‘We’re almost ready.’

‘So, do you want to go riding, or not.’

It is Sunday. There will be a lot to do before he goes back to his own lands, lots of packing and planning and then talking to people and France is exhausted just thinking about how much of it he will be needed for, let alone the voyage back across likely windy seas.

‘I don’t want to share. I want my own horse.’

‘Fine.’

------------

‘Here.’

England looks up from his laptop to find a cup of what might be soup held aloft before him.

France waggles it, evidently deeming England too slow on the uptake, ‘Take it.’

England does, cautiously, and moves his laptop aside to safety. ‘What’s this for.’

‘You.’

‘I could infer that.’

‘Could you? I never want to assume.’ Before England can tell him not to, France settles himself in the seat opposite. The booth England has hidden himself in has a wide table down the middle which takes up most of the room, but France moves himself into the tight space far more dramatically than is needed.

The soup is hot. England pops the lid off- carrot and coriander. His stomach clenches at the smell, he hadn’t realised how hungry he was. ‘Where on earth did you get it? They stopped serving dinner hours ago.’

‘I know. You missed it.’ France shoots him a pointed look, ‘I went to a café down the road.’

England looks down and swirls the soup around the Styrofoam. It’s thick, good quality. ‘I’m not paying you for it.’

‘Ah yes, because that is why I went.’

England glances at his laptop. France shuts it. ‘Now, whilst you’re eating, listen to me. I have a story for you.’

England takes the spoon that France offers and stirs. He wonders if France has any chocolates in his pockets, ‘Is it about the look Antonio gave-‘

‘Yes.’ France leans forwards eagerly, ‘But shut up. Let me talk.’

-------------

‘It’s... it’s large.’ The scientist at the front of the room looks shrunken, weighed down and wizened. He runs a hand through his hair, glasses glinting in sterile, overheads lights. ‘It’s large.’

France looks up and catches England’s eye. He looks tired, old.

Scared.

Question lights flash on around the room, every national and political delegation with something to say or ask. The scientist seems to freeze, overwhelmed by where or who to turn to first, and then people start shouting all over each other, nations and their politicians alike.

‘What the fuck is this?’ France’s president holds her hands to her mouth and shakes her head slowly from side to side, ‘This cannot be happening.’

‘There is nothing we can do!’ France hears the scientist say over the braying clamour, ‘It’s too late, it’s-‘

‘Francis.’ England is there, at his shoulder. ‘Come on.’

-------------

‘What the fuck have you done to yourself?’

France sniffs and turns away, ‘That’s none of your business.’

England snorts and hangs his hat and coat on the stand, ‘You look like you’ve fallen off a horse.’

‘You look like an unkempt vagabond.’

England looks down at his finely pressed suit and trousers and then back to France. He is on his sofa, studiously reading a book and not looking at England making himself comfortable in France’s livingroom. His leg is before him on a padded stool, swollen at least twice the size, and there is a purple bruise blossoming upon one cheek.

England comes around the back of him and brushes soft golden hair away from France’s shoulder. ‘I could do better.’ he says, gently thumbing the fragile scabbing of France’s bottom lip.

France swats at him, ‘Go away. I don’t want you here.’

‘Wrong place wrong time? Or did you try to speak sense again to someone who actually has some.’

‘Arthur, stop.’ France catches England’s wrist and kisses the inside, ‘You’re too unsympathetic to understand.’

‘Hmm.’ England kneads at France’s shoulder and then heads to the kitchen, ‘Would it help you to know I’m planning on telling everyone you fell ice skating?’

France lets out a bark of laughter, ‘Oh? And who on earth would you tell.’

‘Anyone who will listen.’ He collects a glass and a bottle of wine, along with some bread and some of the expensive cheese that he knows France always squirrels away in his pantry whenever he can, and takes them back to the living room.

-------------

‘If you could be anywhere, where would you be.’

Soft music from a Spanish restaurant down the road, warm ocean breeze. Anywhere and everywhere, all at once.

Besides him, England sips warm ale from a can he smuggled through customs and shrugs, ‘Home.’

‘That’s a boring answer.’

‘That’s the truest answer.’

‘And where again would Arthur go, if he could leave England behind.’ Francis watches Arthur from the corner of his eye, sees the fragments of him outside of all else that they always are.

‘I can’t leave England behind.’ England says, ‘So there’s not much point entertaining it.’

‘I’m trying to have a serious conversation.’

‘Then don’t ask a hypothetical question.’

Francis sighs, and retreats. He takes a deep drag of his cigarette and watches the smoke drift away into the dark.

‘But if you’re asking time.’ England tilts his head, considering. Behind them on the seafront, students between bright club front lights in loud, drunken clusters, ‘Now, I think. Maybe a hundred years ago, at most.’

‘Really?’ France is surprised, ‘I would have thought-‘

‘Boring answer,’ Arthur says, and the rest remains unfinished.

-------------

‘Don’t you fucking die on me.’

Of all the places England expected to die, this was actually what he’d considered the least likely. In Calais, oft contested, right by the sea, and entirely calm. No war or battle to take him, no disease or crop failure to push him along. He can see Dover in the distance, his white cliffs so close he can almost feel them in the bones they represent.

But above them, burning and close, the sky roils.

France lies in his lap on the grass of his garden, eyes wet and smiling. ‘That’s not fair, you can’t say that to me. That’s what I was going to say to you.’

‘I’m serious.’ England swallows down something bitter and painful in his throat, and brushes the hair from France’s face, ‘You’re not allowed to go first unless I’m given that honour. Keep yourself awake.’

France freezes, eyes wide, ‘What-‘

‘I know you too well,’ England says, and dips his head to kiss him. There is a golden chain around France’s neck, old and reliable. On it hangs a much-used pendant, once again filled and ready. Still full, he hopes.

England fiddles with it in the hollow of France’s neck and sees the burning heavens reflected in his eyes. ‘We’ll go together.’

-------------

‘I love you.’

On a nameless bit of a terraformed Earth that might have once been a small kingdom in the northern sea, a man called Francis pauses at the hydro sink, half washed cup in his hands. A man called Arthur stands next to him with a dish cloth and when Francis turns to him, Arthur stares back, face inscrutable.

Arthur does not mince words. He has always spoken his mind frankly, regardless of how offensive or tactless his thoughts may be. He has never tailored himself to a situation, never presented himself as anything he is not. But softness and open vulnerability is not a texture he can wear upon himself. Not because he doesn’t have any, Francis knows, but because he expects that Arthur doesn’t know how. Some core part of his personality that gets lost from his heart to his tongue, or given spikes along the way.

Maybe that was what caught Francis’ attention in the first place, all those years ago on the transport ship to Earth. The parts Arthur kept to himself more than the parts he did not. Arthur spoke kindness and care in actions, not words, and words were what Francis had heard far too much of.

Francis looks away and makes sure to keep his face just as blank, just as unconcerned.

‘I love you too.’

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sweetestofchaos · 2 months

Text

Forehead Kisses With Stray Kids...Again

Backstory: As you get ready to leave for work, he doesn’t make a move to kiss you goodbye.

pairing: skz x gn!reader

tw: none, pure fluff

wc: 1.1k

a/n: I wrote this...and forgot that I already had forehead kisses with them...so here is another version lmfao. line/heart divider and support divider made by @benkeibear

Chan - It might have been early in the morning but when you shout that you’re heading to work, you expect for Chris to come give you a kiss. After a few moments of waiting for him at the front door, you pout and toe your shoes off. You walk farther into the apartment and find that Chris is sitting in front of his laptop with headphones on at your shared desk. You sigh with a shake of your head but all the more endeared. You walk over to him and place your hands on Chris’ shoulders gently before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Chris pulls his headphones down around his neck and tilts his head back with a smile. You grin and peck his lips whispering your goodbye and Chris kisses you again, trailing his hand to the back of your neck as he kisses you upside down.

“Have a good day at work, baby. Love you.”

Minho - You announce that you’re heading to work as you pass Minho who is on the floor cleaning his shoes. You backtrack your steps and slide your hand underneath Minho’s chin before you tilt his head back and press a kiss right in the middle of his forehead. He smiles shyly and wraps his fingers around your wrist before he pulls you down closer to his face.

Minho pecks your lips as he cups your cheek in his hand and mutters his love as he teases you.

“Did you really try to leave without a proper kiss?”

Changbin - You can hear Changbin in the kitchen, looking for whatever to make himself breakfast. Stepping into the kitchen, you smile at your boyfriend when you see his face still puffy with sleep. He hasn’t seen you yet, eyes too focused on their search for food. You giggle to yourself and walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

Changbin jumps from your sudden touch and melts into your body. Turning in your hold, he hugs you and buries his face in your neck. He peppers little kisses along your neck and cheek, missing your lips. To which you retaliate by pressing a firm kiss to his forehead and pushing him away.

“Yah! I wasn’t finished!”

Han - You thought Jisung was still sleeping when you were ready to head to work. Not wanting him to wake up confused as to where you were, you quickly wrote a note and headed back into the bedroom to set it on the nightstand. Han was wide awake, pulling on one of his hoodies. You smiled and walked over to him. You pushed his hoodie from his face along with his bangs and pressed a sweet kiss onto his forehead.

As you pulled away his eyes were wide and wet, lips spread in a wide smile as he stared at you, confused but happy nonetheless. He pulled you into a hug and kissed your forehead as well before hugging you tighter.

“How are you so cute this early, huh?”

Seungmin - You could feel Seungmin’s eyes on you the whole time as you were getting ready to leave for work. Your shoes were placed by the door and your bag sat on the kitchen table, holding your lunch for the day. You ignored Seungmin’s eyes as you finished your morning drink and set the cup in the sink.

From the couch you heard Seungmin call your name and you turned with your arms crossed over your chest while he just sat there with a wide smile on his handsome face. You rolled your eyes at his cheesiness and started over to him. He lifted his face upward as you got closer, his lips slightly puckered and you smiled softly. You kissed his forehead and Seungmin was quick to grab your sides, pulling you down into his lap to give you a real kiss.

“Wanna try that again, yeah?”

Felix - From the sweet aroma in the air of freshly baked brownies, you know that Felix has to be in the kitchen or near there. You glance at the watch on your wrist and you have a few moments to spare for your boyfriend. Skipping around the corner, you crash into Felix and he is quick to catch you in his arms, so that you don’t fall on your eyes. A brownie is hanging from his lips and you giggle at how cute he looks.

Leaning up, you press a kiss to his forehead and as you pull away, Felix grabs the brownie from his mouth. Chewing quickly he smiles as he swallows the sweet treat.

“Can I get a real kiss?”

Hyunjin - “Jinnie, I'm leaving for work!” You call out from the end of the hallway. The door to his art room is open and you hear him curse before he calls out for you to have a good day. Well that isn’t good enough in your book. You walk down the hall with your shoes in your hands and push open the door. Hyunjin is sitting in front of a canvas with a stick of charcoal in his hand.

You walk up beside him and bend down, so that your face is level with his. You call his name and when he turns to face you, you press a quick kiss to his forehead. Hyunjin presses his lips into a thin line before he turns his face away and gives you the side eye.

“Since when were you so cute?”

Jeongin - As you were putting on your shoes, you heard the toilet flush some deeper in your apartment. The sound of a door clicking open and shut made you smile to yourself. Looks like Jeongin was up to start his day. You called out to him that you were leaving and waited for a for moments, expecting to see him sleepy face come around the corner to kiss you goodbye. When that didn’t happen you pouted and removed your shoes to walk into the apartment.

You peaked into your shared bedroom and Jeongin was laying in bed, tapping away at his phone. “I’m leaving, Innie,” You call and Jeongin’s eyes widen as he sees you standing in the door. He sits up and makes grabby hands at you which makes you laugh and walk over to the bed. Once in his arms, you run your fingers through his wild hair and place a tender kiss to his forehead. Jeongin hums his happiness and snuggles into your neck before he pecks your lips softly.

“I missed breakfast with you. Should I stop by for lunch?”

#stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz fluff #skz x gn reader #skz x reader #bang chan #lee know #changbin #jeongin #han #lee felix #hyunjin #seungmin #soc stray kids

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graysmiles-world · 6 months

Text

Steddie Faking Dating, Part 1

Eddie Munson was cuckoo bananas. Steve knew that. The entirety of Hawkins High knew that. Most of Hawkins, in general, knew that. Which makes it all the more insane that Steve did what he did.

He fell in love with him.

Trust him. Steve knows how mad, psycho, and every other word there is for “batshit crazy” there is for it. But he can’t help it! Steve’s a romantic at heart, and Eddie is the most romantic person he’s ever met. He wraps around Steve like an octopus, kissing every bit of skin in reach. He’s sung, like, at least four different songs for Steve on his electric guitar, which he didn’t even know could be romantic.

All in all, Steve was in love. Flipped around the head and spun until you’re dizzy kind of love. Although he hadn’t said it yet, Steve imagined Eddie feeling the same. Like the stares that Steve feels whenever he turns away from Eddie are brands pressed hot against his cheek. Like every kiss, cheek grab, and cuddle, Eddie pushed his love into Steve in any way he could. Eddie was always the more physical of the two.

But they weren’t yet at the stage where an “I love you” is acceptable. With Nancy, Steve was the one who said it first, two days after their fifth-month anniversary. Nancy said it back but later was informed that she never loved him. He’s going to take it more carefully with this one. They were only a few days past four months in, and it was much too soon to be throwing around the ‘L’ word. Steve just sat - zoning off on break at his summer Scoop’s Ahoy! job. He just turned over the words in his mind until they were no longer recognizable, but the feeling was still warming his chest.

“Steve!” Robin’s harsh shout comes from the front. Steve lurched from his daydream. Suddenly, the sound of crying children and the stickiness of the table in front of him became a reality.

Steve groaned, tilting back until the chair he sat on tipped back, and he could look back at the clock. It took him a second, it being upside down, but it was definitely only 2:28 p.m.

“I’ve got two minutes left!” he shouted, letting his chair fall back on all four legs. He ignored Robin’s grumbling and threats of bodily mutilation to stare at the blank wall before him and breathe in the sickly sweet smell of melted ice cream. It was petty, sure, but Robin had done the same to him, like, three times since the summer started. And he was not one to give up 120 seconds of precious zoning out time.

“Dingus!” Robin shouted, sounding much closer than before. She banged open the door to the backroom, the knob hitting the wall and leaving a mark.

“Jesus, Buckley!” Steve jumps, looking over to her unimpressed scowl and crossed arms.

“Break time’s over,” she tapped her wrist, despite the fact that there was no actual watch there. Steve rolled his eyes and grabbed the sailor's cap from where he threw it at the start of his break.

Robin laughed at his quiet grumbles as he passed him, patting him condescendingly on the back. She let the door swing shut, and Steve flinched at the large bang that echoed throughout the storefront. Avoiding the many kids’ and adults’ eyes, he turned back to admonish her - only to find that Robin wasn’t even there.

Steve could hear her witch’s cackle through the closed window, but it could have just been in his head, to be fair. But instead of arguing with her, which would lead to several customer complaints, he let her take her break. Steve was not in the mood to deal today.

He crammed the stupid hat on his head and turned to the storefront where a couple of giggling preteens already stood.

After, he just amused himself by looking over to the clock (which definitely moved at like half the speed as the clock in the breakroom, he’s sure of it) and returned to work. Robin joined after her own break, and they worked in tandem. It turns out they’re an okay team when they’re not at each other’s throats, but Steve won’t say that not wanting to tempt fate in one of her many taunts. Robin seemed just as tired of scooping ice cream as he was, so she didn’t even make any snide comments as they closed up Scoops Ahoy! for the night.

The next day went mostly the same, but Steve was much more excited.

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Robin asked, looking concerned at his constant smile. It wasn’t even a customer service one, but a real one. One hurt Steve’s cheeks a bit from how much he was beaming.

“Nothing, just having a friend come over tonight,” he told her - trying to seem casual. Something told him, though, that his “super casual shrug” didn’t help him. Heat crept up his neck and ears, and Steve was grateful that most of it was covered by hair.

Robin leaned forward onto the counter, setting her chin on her fists and fluttering her eyelashes daintily at him. “Oh, is this a lady-friend perhaps? One that you wooed with your ‘Steve Harrington Charm,’” she said - making bunny ears around “Steve Harrington Charm.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and focusing on the mint chip ice cream he was switching out with a new batch. “I told you, I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”

Robin snorted meanly, “Sure.”

Desperate to turn the conversation off himself and onto her: “Hey, what about you? Got any secret admirers out there?”

Steve still wasn’t looking at his coworker, but he could hear her choke at the question. It felt a little good, he won’t lie, turning it back around on her.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” she said after a moment, tapping her fingers against the counter to the beat of the corny song constantly playing through the speakers. “Might hang out with him after work today,” she shrugged, “Don’t know yet.”

Steve nodded, grabbing the empty ice cream container and returning it to the back to be taken out with the rest of the trash at the night's end. Thankfully, that won’t be him because he was able to get out early by switching with Clark, one of the other “crewmates.” He would have to take an early morning shift next Tuesday, but Steve still thought it was worth it. Eddie was coming over that night, and even though Steve could see him earlier that week, he couldn’t help but be excited.

When Steve got home that afternoon, he immediately stripped from his uniform and threw it in the hamper, covering it with some other dirty clothes. Heaven knows how Eddie would react if he saw that piece of clothing.

He’d probably ask Steve to wear it for sex, to be honest. And not that Steve wasn’t up for that (he was always up to sex with Eddie), but he only had one of these uniforms, and it needed to last for the entire summer.

Steve then jumped in the shower, scrubbing the stink of the nauseating scent of gone-bad ice cream and kid vomit. Children shouldn’t have a double fudge sundae after running around in the hot sun for three hours. Who knew? Not that kid’s parents, from how they whined and tried to give explanations as Steve was forced to mop it up.

Robin had way too much fun laughing at him from behind the counter, so Steve went to the bathroom when he saw Erica approaching them across the food court.

When Eddie knocked on Steve’s door at 3:45, fifteen minutes after he said he’d show up (like Steve knew he would be), the house was perfectly set up for movie night. Steve was already dressed in his old basketball sweatpants and one of Eddie’s shirts that he left behind too many times for Steve to be willing to give it back now.

Also, the look on Eddie’s face whenever he saw Steve wearing one of his band t-shirts was one of Steve’s favorites. This is only made better by Steve immediately shutting down any lust building him in eyes with an eye roll and a pull towards the couch.

Eddie whistled, “All setup, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Steve threw a throw pillow at the back of Eddie’s head, uncaring the squawk he let out. “Shut up.”

“Betrayed!” Eddie flailed about, falling back onto the couch, one foot on the cushion. “Hoaxed! Hoodwinked!”

Steve snorted, slapping Eddie’s socked foot aside and falling towards him - making sure to land on his outstretched hands and now Eddie’s ribs. He pressed his lips against Eddie’s before he started the dramatic monologue that Steve knew was coming.

Eddie surrounded immediately, moving to clutch his (or Eddie’s) shirt in both hands. Steve kept the kiss from becoming too dirty because he wanted to watch some movies but was content to make out for a few minutes longer. And God, did Eddie know how to make out with someone? It was wet and hot, sloppy than any other make-out he’d had with anyone else - but Steve loved it. He loved him.

He felt that familiar bubbling in his stomach, the urge to lean back and spit it out - so instead, he pressed forward. He dug his tongue between Eddie’s lips as he liked and let him do it before. Eddie’s stubble scratched against his cheeks, and his shoulder started hurting a bit, but Steve didn’t ever want to move.

Unfortunately, the choice was taken from him when Eddie pulled back, chuckling a bit when Steve tried to follow. “It seems my swindling worked,” he crowed quietly, pressing short but hard kisses against everything but Steve’s lips.

Steve opened his eyes, staring right into Eddie’s endlessly dark eyes. They were crinkled, and it took everything in Steve not to melt into goo. Instead, he raised a brow. “You think you tricked me, Munson?”

Eddie guffawed a laugh, his chest bouncing underneath Steve’s. “Munson, huh? You brought me back down to last names, Harrington?”

Steve couldn’t handle being close to Eddie and not kissing anymore, so he mumbled, “You betcha, Munson,” before returning to the previously scheduled content.

Steve could have spent the rest of his life kissing Eddie on this couch. Unfortunately for both of them, their young bodies couldn’t hold up in that position forever, and they were forced to move only a few minutes later. It was only then that Steve remembered the original purpose for Eddie coming over that night.

“Alright,” he said, pushing back from Eddie’s warmth. “I didn’t just invite you to make out.”

“You didn’t?” Eddie asked, pouting like it was terrible news. Steve just rolled his eyes (he swore, one day, they were going to get stuck like that). He kicked at Eddie’s leg that was being dragged teasingly up his own and stumbled over to the TV - unapologetically adjusting himself in his sweatpants. He ignored Eddie’s groan at the sight and busied himself with picking a movie.

“Which one do you want? Steve called back to him.

“What do you got?” Eddie called back, too lazy to stand over and come over to see for himself.

Steve shuffled through the VHSs, cringing at the choices. They were all from when he was a kid when his parents loaded up on movies so he wouldn’t bother them.

“Uh,” Steve started - trying to find some that wouldn’t be terrible to watch. “Superman 1 and 2, Jaws, Willy Wonka in the Chocolate Factory,” he listed them out, not thinking as he went from VHS to VHS.

“What the fuck, Stevie!” Eddie crackled behind him. “What’s with these movies?”

Steve felt the back of his neck go hot. “They’re all from when I was a kid, okay?”

“Wow, kid you had a shit taste.”

Steve laughed but covered it up with a cough, but not very successfully from Eddie’s crackle from behind him. “Do you want to help pick one, or are you just going to complain the whole time,” he glared mockingly at Eddie.

When Eddie finally decided to wander over, they chose Monty Python and Holy Grail, which came with the least amount of ribbing from Eddie.

Steve went into the kitchen to pop some popcorn and grab some beers while Eddie made a nest from the blanks and pillows. He did it whenever they were getting comfy, so Steve dragged down the softest blankets around the house.

When Steve returned to the living room, he could see the mop of curly dark hair barely visible above the mound of blankets. Once more, that bubbly, giggly feeling rose in his chest. He felt almost bouncing as he made his way over to his boyfriend, setting down the food before moving to turn on the TV. When the opening music rang through the house, Steve jumped on the other cushion, watching as Eddie screeched at his tower of softness that fell off of him and over onto Steve’s lap. Ignoring Eddie’s protests, Steve gathered some to wrap around himself, curling up so his head rested on the couch's arm, his feet tangling with Eddie’s - who was doing the same.

Steve settled in, letting every lousy thing he carried with him flow out with every giggle Eddie tried to hide, and every time he crowed to the screen, definitely not trying to silence those. Steve dozed, letting the lights and sound of the television wash over him with the warmth of Eddie’s legs pressed against his own. He felt Eddie stroking his ankle, the chill of his rings against his sleep-warmed skin making Steve kick a bit.

Finally, when the movie ended and the credits started to roll, Eddie rolled up to his feet. He left his hair in the crazy mess that it was, moving over to where Steve was still lying horizontal on the couch. Steve looked up at him through squinted eyes, barely able to see the curve of his lips in the dim lighting.

“Hey, let’s get you to bed,” Eddie told him, running his hands through his hair. Steve grumbled, wanting to stay in the warmth of the blankets, in Eddie’s heat. He must have told him that because Eddie’s smile faded, and a frown took his place. “Sorry, Stevie, I can’t tonight.”

Something cold rushed over him, goosebumps erupting all over his arms and the back of his neck. He pushed himself so he was sitting, dislodging Eddie’s hand. Eddie held his hand out for a second, debating where to set it, but just dropped it so it hung limply at his side. Steve smiled at him, letting his sleepy exterior hide the little tick in his heartbeat.

“That’s okay,” he whispered, not wanting to ruin their created atmosphere. “Just get home safe, okay?” Steve leaned forward, pecking him on the cheek.

Eddie’s expression smoothed out, the glint returning. “Of course, sweetheart.” He stood up, smacking a significant kiss against Steve’s hair with a mwah! Steve watched him stumble over to his shoes, jumping as he crammed them on his feet. He saluted Steve before falling through the door, out into the darkness and out of sight.

Steve sat there for another minute or two or ten. He only stood up when the air conditioner kicked on, chilling the air. He thought momentarily about curling back in the blankets and falling asleep on the couch. But it looked unappetizing in the moonlight without anyone to warm it up.

He flopped onto his bed, covers cool against his face, and he barely flipped up the blankets and got under them before the phone on his nightstand began to ring. Steve groaned, looking over to the clock.

“Who’s calling at 1 a.m.?” he grumbled, grabbing the phone and resisting the urge to yell at whoever was on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey Stevie,” Eddie said, a smile apparent in his voice. Steve felt his shoulders relax; something cracked in his body smoothing at the sound of his voice. “Just wanted to let you know I got home okay.”

“Yeah,” Steve swallowed, “That’s good. Thanks.”

“And I had to say sorry about being unable to stay over,” Eddie continued. Steve fell, so he was on his back, cord stretching to lie comfortably.

“It’s fine-” he tried to say, but Eddie interrupted.

“It’s just that Uncle Wayne needs my help in the trailer in the morning, fixing up the shower and whatnot.”

“Oh,” Steve breathed. Whatever else that was displaced from Eddie’s disappearance was gone. “I understand.” He didn’t. He can’t remember the last time his dad asked for his help or the previous his mother wanted him home in the morning.

“Yeah, but I’ll see you soon - okay?” There was a thud and a curse. “Shit, I just slammed my elbow into the wall.”

Steve chuckled laughter loudly in such a silent room. “Of course you did.”

“Dick,” Eddie chuckled. “I’ll let you get some rest. Good night, Steve.”

“Good night, Eddie,” Steve said, and the phone went dead. Steve white-knuckled the handle, just looking up at the ceiling. He returned it on the receiver when the buzz grew too much and rolled over. Within moments, he was asleep.

Next Part ->

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #posted on ao3 #part one #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #season 3 rewrite #scoops ahoy #robin buckley

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

Text

come crawling faster

read on AO3

Eddie’s rings are clean of blood when he wakes up.

It doesn’t occur to him until later, as he’s laying in bed trying to sleep, that someone must have cleaned the for him, and the thought twirls the air around him like a tornado. He inspects them in the moonlight, and there isn’t a speck of blood or dirt even in the deepest crevices of them. He smiles at the ceiling in the dark.

Everyone is happy that he’s okay. They all hug him gently, careful and mindful of the stitches holding him together, of the IV in his arm, of the way his head aches like he’s hungover. All their voices are low and their hands gentle, and Robin and Nancy bring clothes for him to wear that aren’t cold hospital gowns. Dustin cries, and Eddie thinks that for a few minutes while Eddie holds him, he’s turned back into the little boy he was before he was shoved into the whole mess of the Upside Down.

They all update him on everything that’s happened since he’s been out. Max is okay, with healing arms and glasses almost thicker than the bottoms of Coke bottles. Erica and Lucas are okay. Dustin’s leg is healing, but he’ll have to use a cane. Mike is back from Lenora, with a girl named Eleven and Will and Jonathan, and some guy named Argyle.

He sees all their smiles.

Except Steve.

Steve doesn’t smile. Not once.

He stands in the corner and watches everyone talking, his arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall like a broody movie villain, and a few times when Eddie looks in his direction, he’s already looking back. Frowning. Or he’s looking at the ground like he’s bored, like he doesn’t want to be here at all.

And every time it makes Eddie’s chest tighten, so he squares his shoulders and widens his smile and looks away, back to whoever is talking. He’s actually struggling to follow along as their voices overlap, and he thinks maybe he’s just tired, because when Robin speaks, he looks toward Eleven for a moment, and he accidentally calls Dustin Lucas’s name.

They all say goodbye when they leave. The kids all hug him gently again, along with Robin and Nancy. Argyle and Jonathan smile.

Steve doesn’t say goodbye.

Eddie tries not to let it get under his skin, but it gnaws away at him like teeth as he stares up at the ceiling. How easily Steve left, like he doesn’t even know Eddie. How he was almost glaring at Eddie the whole time. How he didn’t even seem slightly happy that Eddie was alive.

He only sees Steve a few times while he’s in the hospital, because Steve drives the kids to visit. If it were up to Steve, Eddie doesn’t think he’d even show up. It’s still under Eddie’s skin.

Days go by.

The government pulls some strings. Eddie’s murder charges are dropped. He’s released from the hospital but only with a security guard that’s armed with a gun just in case. Eddie goes home to Wayne.

Home is different now. An apartment in town, small and a little run-down, but it has two bedrooms and more hot water than the trailer. And there aren’t any bloodstains on the ceiling.

Eddie helps Wayne put up his mugs around the kitchen, and his hats in the living room. Wayne chides him gently. You’re gonna pull your stitches, Eds, I got it. But Eddie’s tired of doing nothing, of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to think up new campaign ideas only to be distracted wondering what’s going on with Steve. So he keeps helping. And he cleans, and decorates his own room with posters and photos and banners that someone packed while he was in his coma.

He has to go back to the hospital several times, accompanied by Wayne. To remove the stitches on his cheek, then the stitches on his arms and legs, then the stitches on his sides and chest. Eddie hates getting stitches removed.

He’s covered in scars, all pink and disfigured, tender and sensitive. The scars on his sides are almost indented, his skin no longer smooth and soft. The one on his cheek is jagged. He avoids looking in mirrors. He wears long sleeve shirts, even though the weather is getting warmer.

He doesn’t go back to school even though he has the option to. He doesn’t want to be looked at. And he doesn’t really care anymore. There are bigger things to worry about than fucking Ms O’Donnell’s class. (Like what’s going on with Steve.)

Wayne goes back to work. The kids go back to school. The town seems to get used to Eddie. He still gets glares from people, and he looks back. He doesn’t hide the scar on his face or the one around his neck. They leave him alone.

The living room of the apartment becomes their new D&D place. Steve drives the kids over and picks them up. He doesn’t come upstairs. None of the kids say anything about. And this thing between Steve and Eddie becomes a quiet, unspoken thing that no one even glances at. It’s not the unspoken thing Eddie had hoped for when he opened his eyes in the hospital, blinded by the sun on the white walls and another chance at life. It’s the opposite of what he’d hoped for.

A month goes by.

Mike and Eleven break up, and that weird tension that was always present around them disappears. (Eddie always thought Mike talked about Will more than he talked about El at school anyway.) Nancy and Jonathan break up too. The day after, they both look happier than Eddie’s seen them before.

Eddie has some parts of his life back. He goes over to Gareth’s for band practice, and he decides he prefers how his guitar looks in this dimension, how it shines in the sun. He also decides that life is better when he’s not in high school. He’s going to try to get a job this summer, at a car shop or something. Wherever will hire him.

It’s been three weeks since he and Steve have seen each other. Or, he supposes, since he’s seen Steve. Steve didn’t look at him. It was like Eddie wasn’t there. It made him feel gross in a way he’s never felt, like his skin didn’t fit right, like it was bunched up and twisted, and he wanted to rip it off and set it on fire. And scream. Because he was mad.

Because even if Steve doesn’t feel the same way about him, Eddie thought they were friends. Or at least friendly. Eddie almost died, and Steve hasn’t said a single word to him.

So yeah. Eddie is mad.

But he’s pissed when he sees Steve at the grocery store, and their eyes meet across the stand of fruit they’re both at, and Steve just… looks down. Picks up an apple. Squeezes it.

And walks away.

Eddie is pissed.

More pissed than he’s ever been in his life. His blood feels like it’s boiling in his veins, like he’s being burned alive, and he can’t breathe, and he puts his basket down and leaves the store. (Usually he’d take the time to pay, or put the few items in the basket back. But he thinks that if he tries to do either, he’ll lose his mind.)

He goes to the parking lot. Sits in the driver seat of his van for a few minutes, staring at the gray sky as his hands shake and his knee bounces against the steering wheel, trying to figure out what exactly was in Steve’s eyes when he looked at him. They were awfully blank, but he looked… anxious. His eyes were a little too wide, his jaw a little too firm.

The sky darkens as Eddie stares at it.

He’s still pissed. He’s still shaking.

His keys rattle as he turns the van on, and his breath trembles as he drives, the windshield wipers on as it starts to rain. And then he’s at the Harrington mansion, and he wants to drive off a cliff, because what the fuck is he doing here?

He turns off the van and stares at the house. At all the windows. The downstairs lights are on. Eddie wonders if Steve is scared of the dark too.

It’s almost pouring when Eddie gets to the front doorstep and rings the doorbell before he knocks five times, hard. The door swings open a few moments later, and Steve is beautiful even Eddie’s angry at him.

His brows are furrowed in confusion, but his face relaxes back into that horrible blankness when he realises it’s Eddie.

Eddie stares at him. Steve stares back.

For a while. In silence, except the pouring rain. Eddie’s eyes look back and forth between Steve’s, who holds the door so tightly Eddie thinks he’s going to slam it shut.

And Eddie wants to hear him talk.

And Eddie is stubborn. He’s had great practice being stubborn. So he doesn’t speak, or move, or even breathe too hard even though his hands are still trembling, until Steve finally exhales and steps back.

“Get out of the rain.”

“Oh, he speaks!” Eddie exclaims, and he knows he’s being bitchy, but he doesn’t care. He kicks his shoes off, nudging them into a corner as Steve shuts the door heavily and steps into the kitchen that’s bigger than Eddie’s living room.

“What the fuck?” Eddie bursts as he follows him, watching him lean casually against a counter and cross his arms over his chest. He’s wearing a red sweater that looks criminally good on him, but Eddie doesn’t let it distract him.

“What the fuck,” Steve repeats dryly.

“You wanna fuckin’ tell me why you’ve barely fucking looked at me in the past goddamn month?”

Eddie has a swearing problem. It was the cause of a lot of his detention visits in high school, because he can’t help it. When he gets frustrated or annoyed or angry, his language gets colourful. Usually he regrets the words as he’s saying them, sometimes because he knows he’s gonna wind up in Peterson’s room after the bell rings with a pink slip in hand, and sometimes because the person he’s talking to doesn’t really deserve to be talked to like that. Because he’s not mad or frustrated with them, they just happen to be in the line of fire.

But not Steve.

Steve is the fucking target.

Eddie is already breathing hard as Steve looks away, his tongue sliding over his teeth in his closed mouth, seething.

“Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes snap up him, dark and gleaming like a predator’s. His voice is rough when he speaks.

“Because I’m pissed at you.”

“Well, Christ,” Eddie says loudly. “What a development.” His stomach aches, like he’s sick at the thought of Steve being mad at him. “You wanna tell me why?”

Steve is quiet for a moment before he stands up straight off the counter, uncrossing his arms, staring so hard at Eddie that his nose might start bleeding.

“I told you,” he says evenly, pointing at Eddie with two loose fingers, “not to be a hero.”

“Harrington—“

“And you nodded,” Steve interrupts, his pointing fingers stabbing the air between them. “You agreed, and I believed you.” His voice is loud, but shaking, Eddie wants to cry. He wants to burn his skin. “So I left you with my kid and I came back to find you fucking bleeding out in his arms.”

“What, so you’re mad that I almost died?”

“I’m mad that you went back!” And Eddie wants to die, because Steve is yelling now, but it’s still better than the silence he’s gotten. “I’m mad that you didn’t fucking run!”

Eddie’s eyes are burning, and his lips are pursed in a frown, and Steve’s hand falls.

“Why didn’t you run?” he asks brokenly, and Eddie realises the predatory gleam in his eyes is just tears.

“I ran from Chrissy,” Eddie says as strong to as he can. “I wasn’t gonna run again.”

“Anybody would have run from that, Eddie,” Steve yells. He leans forward in emphasis, and he looks like he’s going to cry. “You weren’t a coward, you were human. You didn’t have to fucking— make up for it.”

Eddie stares, blinking tears back, pursing his lips when his chin quivers.

“I’m pissed at you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter again. He’s breathing hard. His hands are shaking too. “Because you lied to me.”

He takes a deep, unsteady breath.

“And because—“ He chokes, swallowing. “Because you didn’t think that obviously Dustin was gonna follow you back. And I don’t— Jesus, Eddie, I don’t care if you don’t give a shit about your life, it’s not— not fucking fair.” His voice breaks on the last word, and Eddie’s chest feels like it’s been ripped open.

“The fuck’s that mean,” he says quietly. His whole body hurts. He thinks maybe Steve’s hands could make it feel better, but what are the chances Steve is going to touch him gently right now?

“I know you knew what was gonna happen, Eddie,” Steve says, his voice even, lethal.

Eddie’s stomach twists, and his breath catches in his throat, because he didn’t think he’d have to talk about this. He didn’t think anyone knew.

Steve stares at him, his eyes fucking piercing into Eddie, like he’s trying to see his bones.

“And I don’t care if you didn’t care,” Steve says firmly, his eyes shining brightly, his lip quivering. “It’s not— It’s not fair.”

The air feels tight, almost smoke-filled, like there’s a fire they’re both ignoring.

“Your life,” Steve says slowly, loudly, his eyes trained on Eddie like he’s worried he’s going to run, “is not yours to just throw away.”

“So, what, it’s yours?” Eddie snaps like he’s offended.

“Yes,” Steve yells roughly.

And the smoke clears.

Eddie’s eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking, and Steve’s eyes are wide, and his hands are shaking too. He’s breathing hard, his brows furrowed, and his lip quivers as he stammers silently.

“It’s mine,” he says finally, his voice breaking. “And Dustin’s. And Lucas’s, and Mike’s and Wayne’s, and everyone else on this goddamn planet that cares about you.”

And Eddie’s chest feels like it’s hallowing out. Like Steve is carving his flesh and bone away with a knife. His eyes watch a tear fall from Steve’s eye to the floor, landing on the tile.

“What about you?” Eddie asks, still angry.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Steve snaps, his face hard as he almost glares at Eddie, his eyes still glistening. Eddie glares back, his brows furrowed, and he inhales slowly. The room is silent except the rain pounding on the roof, on the glass windows, except his and Steve’s stuttered breathing.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Steve,” Eddie says coldly.

Steve looks like Eddie’s slapped him.

“The kids told me about how you threw yourself at a raging psychopath,” Eddie says.

“That was—“

“And how in the same night you threw yourself in front of a pack of demodogs with nothing but a baseball bat.”

“That—“

“Nancy and Jonathan told me about how Nancy forced you leave at gunpoint,” Eddie says, his voice louder, moving closer without even noticing. His voice is shaking. “And you still went back.”

Steve stares. His eyes are wide, and he looks angrier than Eddie’s ever seen him, and even though there’s a pit of fear in Eddie’s stomach, he persists.

“And we all know about how you stayed behind to be interrogated, and tortured and damn near killed by those Russians.” Eddie’s almost yelling now, tears sparking his own eye as he gestures to Steve in anger, in outrage, in pain and love and everything else that’s swirling in his carved out chest like a hurricane.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie screams, finally breaking. His throat hurts. “You think those people don’t care about you?” he yells, gesturing aimlessly toward the door. “You think we don’t love you?”

He’s panting, almost numb with adrenaline and rage. His vision is blurry, but he doesn’t know if it’s because of the anger or if he’s crying. He ignores it.

“You have no right to lecture me on this when you and I both know you would have done the same thing in a heartbeat.”

And then Steve’s hand is grasping the front of Eddie’s shirt, and the breath is knocked from Eddie’s lungs as his back slams into the wall so hard he thinks it might be dented. He gasps for breath, and Steve’s face is too close to his, and this close he can see specks of green in his eyes, and he can see every tear that’s clinging to his eyelashes. And even when he’s radiating anger, he’s the most beautiful man Eddie’s ever seen.

“You gonna hit me, Stevie?” Eddie says even though he still can’t really breathe. Steve doesn’t say anything. His fist is gripping Eddie’s shirt so tightly it might rip, his knuckles pressing into Eddie’s chest so hard it hurts.

Eddie’s never been good at knowing when to keep his mouth shut.

“You don’t get to be angry at me,” he says quietly, almost breathing the words. “Not when we’re exactly the same.”

Steve’s knuckles press even harder.

His lip is trembling, and Eddie’s eyes flick across his face, at his glassy eyes, and flushed cheeks, and the moles spotting his skin like stars, and he kisses him.

He pulls away just as quickly as he leaned in, his body flooding with heat as he realises what he’s just done, but Steve’s face doesn’t change. Still angry, seething, and the world is on fire, crushed under tidal waves and hurricanes and God’s wrath, and it’s Eddie’s fault. His eyes sting like there are chemicals in them, and he breathes out a soft shit before he tries to shove past Steve to escape before he can die.

Of course he’d survive this long, survive being beaten by a drunk before his bones were done growing, survive being the target of a witch hunt by townspeople with guns, survive being eaten alive by demonic bats, only to die untouched. Because he kissed a boy without thinking.

But Steve’s hand tightens on Eddie’s shirt, and he pushes Eddie back against the wall roughly. Eddie whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut, flinching, and a few seconds pass before something presses to his forehead. He opens his eyes hesitantly.

Steve’s eyes are closed, his forehead on Eddie’s, and his hand releases the fabric of his shirt, his palm pressing, fingers spreading over Eddie’s chest.

Eddie’s eyes burn, and he inhales sharply, trying desperately not to cry. His hands are hanging by his sides, trembling.

Steve pulls away after a moment, and all the anger is gone from his face. His eyes are almost closed, still glassy, and he looks exhausted, like he’s going to fall apart. But his hand is still steady on Eddie, pressed firmly.

“Don’t think I’m not still mad at you,” Steve says so quietly the words almost get lost in the sound of the rain.

“Steve,” Eddie breathes.

Steve leans in and kisses him.

Softly, chastely, just barely catching his lower lip. Eddie can’t tell if his heart is even beating anymore, and his hands raise hesitantly as Steve does it again, slowly slowly slowly moving to touch Steve’s waist. His sweater is soft.

Steve’s other hand lifts and holds Eddie’s cheek so gently he can barely feel it on the mangled, sensitive skin of the ragged scar. And then their breaths are mixing as Steve presses his open mouth Eddie’s, and his tongue is slipping across Eddie’s lip and into his mouth. Eddie leans against the wall, his hands tightening on Steve’s waist, as his knees weaken.

The kiss doesn’t last long, because Steve is crying. Gasping for breath, holding Eddie tighter. Squeezing his eyes shut. Falling against Eddie.

Eddie slides his hands to Steve’s back, holding him close. His throat tightens, and he closes his eyes, suppressing a sob as he feels Steve’s shoulders shake.

“Don’t be mad,” Eddie says weakly, his voice wobbling, too high, too thin. Steve lifts his head, looking at him desperately.

“I can’t not be mad at you, Eddie,” he says. His voice is the same as Eddie’s. There are tears on his cheeks. Eddie wipes them away. “You lied to me,” he chokes. “You lied to me.” His hand curls into a fist that hits Eddie’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says softly, moving a hand to hold Steve’s fist against himself. Steve falls against him, his face in Eddie’s neck, and Eddie wraps his arms around his neck. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him away from the wall, so tight that Eddie gasps, and he sobs loudly, trembling.

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, crying, and he slides down the wall, holding Steve to himself tightly, and Steve is wailing into Eddie’s neck, sobbing and shaking and gripping Eddie so hard he’ll probably bruise. Eddie’s back is to the wall, his arms around Steve’s neck, his face buried in his hair. He’s getting it wet with his tears, but it doesn’t really matter. His own hair is still wet from the rain.

Eddie is still apologising. He doesn’t even think Steve can understand him, because his own voice is so broken and tear soaked, and because Steve is sobbing like a child.

I lost you.

“No, you didn’t,” Eddie manages to say, shifting so his mouth is by Steve’s ear. “I’m right here, I’m okay.”

Steve cries into Eddie’s neck. Eddie’s skin is wet with his tears. The collar of his shirt is probably soaked. But he doesn’t care.

Steve’s sobbing turns into that awful hiccuping gasping sort of crying, and Eddie pulls away enough to kiss his forehead and hold his face.

“‘M right here,” he murmurs. There are tears in his own face that ignores.

Steve is leaning against him, his legs sprawled on the kitchen floor, and Eddie tugs him closer, wiping away his tears.

But Steve doesn’t ignore Eddie’s tears. He messily wipes them away before he clutches to Eddie’s face, his other hand grasping Eddie’s forearm tightly. His chest is rising and falling with every quick, gasping breath, and Eddie swallows his own tears as he looks at him, at his rosy, tear-streaked cheeks and running nose and chapped lips, and he wonders how long Steve’s been holding this all back.

“I’m here, Stevie.”

Steve looks at him. His eyes are glassy and exhausted again. Eddie wants him to go to sleep. Preferably in Eddie’s arms.

“Thirteen days, Eddie,” Steve says weakly. His voice rasps, dry and overused, and it sends a knife through Eddie’s heart.

“I know,” he breathes. “‘M sorry, Stevie.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his breathing finally slows, reaching to find Eddie’s wrist, and Eddie feels lightheaded when Steve’s fingers press into his pulse.

It’s not until Steve’s breathing is slow that Eddie finally detaches them, helps Steve up, and gets him a glass of water. After Steve gulps it all down, Eddie stretches the sleeve of his shirt over his fingers and steps closer to Steve, touching chin and using his sleeve to wipe his skin, under his nose and eyes and over his cheeks.

Steve’s eyes close, and he sways with the movements until Eddie’s hand pulls at his shoulder, and he falls against Eddie, exhaling heavily.

“‘M sorry,” Steve says softly after a few moments. His hands slide over Eddie’s waist.

“You don’t have to apologise,” Eddie murmurs, because the last thing he wants is Steve feeling like he can’t cry in front of Eddie.

“No, I was mean,” Steve says, almost whining, looking into Eddie’s eyes. He looks like he might start crying again. Eddie touches his cheek. “I was angry, I should have— I should have talked to you, you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie breathes, his voice accompanied by the quiet rumble of thunder outside.

“No, it’s not,” Steve says weakly, his hands gripping Eddie’s shirt. “‘S not okay, Eddie.”

“Okay, fine,” Eddie says, sighing and brushing his thumb over Steve’s cheek softly. “You were an asshole. I forgive you.”

Steve’s eyes close and he falls forward, his forehead pressing to the side of Eddie’s neck, and Eddie threads his fingers through Steve’s hair gently.

“God, I missed you,” he says softly. “How’d I miss you so much?”

Steve’s arms wrap around Eddie’s waist tightly. Eddie brushes through his hair.

“Stay,” Steve says softly, his breath warm in Eddie’s neck. “Don’t want you to go.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. His body aches.

“I won’t go, Stevie.”

Carefully, hesitantly, he shifts and reaches down to Steve’s legs, tugging at his thighs until Steve exhales and nods, moving his arms to wrap around his neck. Eddie picks him up easily, smiling when Steve’s legs wrap around his hips, and Steve clings to him desperately as Eddie moves out of the kitchen, following the hallway until he finds the unreasonably large living room. He slowly lowers Steve to the sofa and then he lowers himself on top of Steve when Steve’s grip on him doesn’t relax.

“I’m sorry,” Steve breathes after a few moments. Eddie shifts to press a kiss to his neck.

“I know. Me too.” He pauses for a moment, then moves so his cheek rests on Steve’s chest. “I meant it, you know.”

“Meant what?”

Eddie hesitates, moving a hand to press to Steve’s chest in front of his face, feeling the soft knit of his sweater.

“We love you.”

Steve’s arms tighten, and Eddie feels his chest rise and fall as he takes a deep breath.

“You know we love you too, right?” Steve says softly. Lightning flashes outside, far away and soft. Eddie closed his eyes, pressing his hand to his chest.

“Kinda unbelievable,” he says quietly. Thunder rumbles.

“‘S true,” Steve says. “Even if you don’t believe it.”

Eddie presses his face into his chest, inhaling. He smells like laundry detergent and cologne, and like something that oddly familiar. Nostalgic. Eddie inhales again.

“Did you visit while I was under?” he asks quietly. Steve sighs.

“Could barely keep me away,” he say softly. “Worst thirteen days of my fucking life.” He takes a breath, sliding a hand to press over Eddie’s on his chest. He’s so warm. “Just held your hand ‘nd waited.”

Eddie laces their fingers, squeezing.

“Left to the bathroom in the hospital to clean your rings,” Steve says, his voice thin. Eddie opens his eyes. “The lights kept flickering, and I didn’t even care, I just… needed to clean them.”

Eddie lifts his head and looks down at him, his throat tight.

“That was you?”

Steve nods, his eyes shining as he looks up at him. His hair has fallen around his head like a halo. His cheeks are still rose, his eyelashes dark with tears like he’s wearing makeup.

“Couldn’t stand the thought of you… waking up with blood on your rings,” he says softly, one of his hands combing through Eddie’s curls that have fallen like curtains. “I don’t know. ‘S kinda dumb in the grand scheme of things.”

Eddie shakes his head, sniffling as his eyes burn.

“It’s not dumb, Stevie,” he says shakily. Steve’s fingers press to his cheek. “Thank you.”

Steve smiles softly, weakly, touching Eddie’s hair, and a tear falls from Eddie’s eye to Steve’s cheek, near his mouth. A soft laugh escapes Steve, and Eddie apologises, smiling, watching Steve blur. He starts to shift to wipe the tear away from Steve’s skin, but Steve beats him to it, wiping the tear with the tip of his middle finger before he brings the finger to his own lips, licking the tear off. Eddie scoffs.

“And they call me the freak.”

Steve smiles. His eyes are shining too.

“Kiss me,” he breathes.

Eddie leans down and kisses him. He can taste the salt of his own tear in his mouth, and he tilts his head to kiss him deeper, groaning softly. Steve’s hands spread over his back, holding him so their bodies press together completely, before they slide to hold his head, his fingers curling into his hair.

The sound of rain outside fades like it’s being muffled as Eddie kisses him, as he listens to the quiet, weak noises escaping Steve’s throat, to the slick slide of their tongues, to their heavy breathing. He presses his fingers into Steve’s neck, feeling his blood rushing, his heart beating beneath his skin. Steve whimpers, and Eddie pulls away to look at him, at his screwed-shut eyes, his furrowed brows.

“Okay?” Eddie whispers.

Steve sniffs, opening his glistening eyes, and he pulls Eddie into a hug desperately, his face in Eddie’s neck as Eddie pushes a hand into his hair, closing his eyes.

“I was so scared,” Steve chokes, holding him tightly. “I thought you were gone.”

“No, I’m right here,” Eddie whispers, tugging his hair, kissing his jaw. “‘M not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

It slips out, but Eddie doesn’t try to take it back. He doesn’t regret it. Especially not when Steve takes a shuddering breath and turns his head enough to kiss Eddie’s temple.

Eddie falls asleep with his face in Steve’s neck, breathing on his skin as he lays in top of him, their legs tangled together. Steve’s hand is holding Eddie’s throat in a way that makes his knees feel weak, his fingertips pressed into his pulse, and Eddie is holding his sweater in loose fists.

“Oh, fucking finally.”

They startle awake simultaneously, gasping and trying to sit up, and Steve fingers tighten around Eddie’s throat before he quickly lets go. Eddie shifts, trying untangle from him, squinting in the bright morning sunlight, his body aching.

“Fucking Christ, Robin, why?” Steve exclaims, his voice rough with sleep, rubbing his face as Eddie leans back, groaning loudly.

“We all thought we’d have to live in your silent treatment for the rest of our lives,” she says dramatically, and Eddie watches her, still squinting, as she moves around the sofa to collapse onto his and Steve’s legs. “So you guys talked?”

“More like screamed and cried,” Steve says, shifting, pulling his legs away to lean against the armrest of the sofa. She sits cross-legged, looking at them. “But yeah.”

Eddie shifts to lean against him, closing his eyes against the light. He’s never been a morning person, and still isn’t today. Especially when he was sleeping so peacefully, on Steve’s warm body. Eddie probably has the knit of his sweater pressed into his cheek like a print.

“Sounds like quite a night.”

Steve’s hand presses into Eddie’s hair as he hums softly, and Eddie exhales, relaxing against him. He could fall asleep again.

“You had quite a night too, didn’t you?” Steve asks, his voice almost suspicious, and Eddie smiles against him, moving closer. He loves how Steve as Robin can read each other’s minds like this. How they can take one glance at each other and just know whatever there is to know. Steve pulls at Eddie’s legs so he’s sitting across his lap, and Eddie tucks his face back into his neck.

“Uh. I mean—”

“Oh, shit,” Steve says. Eddie can hear his smile in his voice. “V?”

“Uhm.”

Eddie lifts his head, brows furrowed in confusion, but Nancy appears in the doorway, carrying a tote bag like a baby. Her eyes find Eddie and Steve cuddled up on the sofa, and she exhales roughly.

“Oh, fucking finally.”

Steve looks sharply at Robin, eyes wide, and her face flushes with colour.

Oh.

“Finally what, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, ignoring Robin and Steve.

“You guys were becoming insufferable. You talked?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank God.” She steps up behind the sofa to look at Robin, whose gaze softens when it lands on her. “You gonna help?”

“Help with what?” Steve questions.

“My mom’s using the kitchen, so we’re making cookies here.”

Steve makes a face.

“Why do you always use my kitchen?”

“Because it’s nice,” Nancy says. “Duh. Robbie, come in.”

“Robbie?” Steve whispers as Nancy leaves, and Robin shoots him a look, scrambling to follow Nancy to the kitchen.

“So,” Steve says when she’s gone. Eddie presses his face into his neck.

“‘S too fuckin’ early.”

Steve laughs softly, running a hand down Eddie’s leg, squeezing his thigh gently. Eddie kisses his neck softly. There’s a clatter in the kitchen, and Robin laughs.

“Hey,” Steve says after a moment, rubbing his leg.

“Mm.” He lifts his head when Steve doesn’t say anything, and he shifts to look at him. “What?” he asks softly.

Steve gazes at him for a moment, holding his leg with one hand as the other touches his cheek and then tucks his hair behind his ear. Eddie moves to straddle his hips, holding his shoulders and looking at him.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday,” Steve says quietly.

“I yelled at you too.”

Steve scoffs, playing with the ends of Eddie’s hair.

“I yelled at you first.”

Eddie pauses.

“Not… really.”

Steve just laughs lightly, closing his eyes and falling forward so his forehead presses to Eddie’s chest, just under his collarbone.

“Can you let me apologise, please?”

“Ugh, fine.”

Steve lifts his head and presses a chaste kiss to Eddie’s chin. No one’s ever kissed Eddie there.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday,” Steve says softly. “And I’m sorry for being mean.”

Eddie touches his cheek, almost petting it.

“I won’t yell at you again,” Steve says softly, firmly. “Ever.”

“Ever?”

“Mm.”

“What if I’m being an asshole?”

“Then I will very calmly tell you that you’re being an asshole.”

Eddie giggles softly, hiding his face in Steve’s neck, and Steve wraps his arms around him tightly. Eddie sighs, settling into his arms.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“You don’t have to apologise.”

“Will you— Steve.” Steve laughs softly, tightening his arms. “Come on, man.”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. Like… as soon as I walked into your house. That wasn’t fair.”

He lifts his head and touches their foreheads together, holding Steve’s face in his hands.

“I won’t yell at you ever again.”

“Not even when I’m being an asshole?”

“No,” Eddie says, laughing softly. “I’ll very calmly tell you you’re being an asshole.”

“Okay,” Steve whispers.

Steve tugs at Eddie’s waist, lifting his chin up wordlessly, and Eddie smiles at him before he presses a soft kiss to his lips.

“Think I’m falling in love with you,” Steve murmurs when they part, his lips brushing Eddie’s.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, holding his cheeks so they squish a little bit. “King Steve falling for the freak. What would your loyal subjects think?”

“Who gives a shit?” Steve breathes, and something shifts inside Eddie.

“Fuck, I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

Steve smiles brightly, his eyes squeezing shut, and Eddie is free-falling off a cliff. He leans in and kisses him.

“How do you take coffee?” Steve asks quietly when they part, breathless.

Eddie kisses him again, sucking on his lower lip, smiling.

“Milk and sugar,” he murmurs against his mouth before kissing him again, holding his cheeks. Steve smiles against his mouth, his hands spreading across his waist before he slides one to the small of his back.

“Let me make you coffee,” Steve says.

Eddie groans softly, pressing his face into Steve’s neck again. He likes it here.

“Wanna go to bed.”

“Come on,” Steve says, laughing quietly, squeezing Eddie’s waist. “The girls are making cookies, maybe we can steal some dough.”

“Isn’t that unhealthy?” Eddie asks dryly.

“Kids eat cookie dough.”

“You’re saying I’m a kid?”

“‘M saying neither of us got to be kids for very long,” Steve says softly, and oh. Eddie kisses his forehead because he can’t kiss his mind. “Let’s go steal some cookie dough.”

“Okay,” Eddie breathes, but he doesn’t move, instead leaning down to kiss him softly, tenderly.

There’s a dash of flour on the top of Robin’s nose when they finally go into the kitchen. She and Steve exchange a look as Steve heads over to find the coffee.

“Why are you making cookies?” Eddie asks, hopping up onto the kitchen island to watch as Robin cracks an egg into the bowl Nancy’s mixing. “Is there a special occasion?”

“The Party’s coming over tonight for a movie night,” Nancy says. Steve turns around.

“What? Why?”

“Because your living room’s huge.”

“You guys keep making plans in my house without even telling me,” Steve mumbles, but Nancy points the whisk at him.

“Our house.”

He makes a face at her.

“Steve, is it cool if I smoke weed in our kitchen?” Eddie asks, and Steve rolls his eyes, but he smiles softly.

“Only if you share.”

“Cool.”

He comes back with two joints and sticks one in Robin’s mouth as she’s cracking another egg, both of them holding still as he lights it for her.

“Thanks, Edster.”

“Ew.”

He sits on the island again, taking a slow drag as he watches Steve make the coffee, find the milk in the fridge and the sugar in a cabinet, watching the way he steps over the tile like he’s about to fall into a dance. He brings a mug over to Eddie when it’s finished and sets it down next to him.

“‘S hot.”

“You know what else is hot?” Eddie says without thinking, and Steve snorts, moving to stand between Eddie’s legs so the insides of his thighs press to his waist.

“What?” Steve asks, looking up at him, smiling easily, sliding his hands over Eddie’s thighs, and Eddie’s cheeks flush even though he’s the one technically flirting.

“…Nothing.”

“Mhmm.” Steve’s eyes are shining gleefully, like he knows exactly how he’s affecting Eddie. He jerks his chin up at the joint. “Gimme a hit.” But he doesn’t move his hands to take it.

So Eddie takes a long drag, taking Steve’s chin in his fingers, and then he leans down, brushing Steve’s lip with his thumb so Steve opens his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as Eddie blows the smoke into his mouth, and Eddie smiles.

He hears Robin giggle as he’s gazing at Steve, watching the smoke drift out of his mouth slowly, and he looks past Steve to find her and Nancy standing together, trying to muffle their laughter in each other’s shoulders.

“Are you guys watching us?” Eddie asks, and Steve blinks his eyes open. Eddie runs a hand through his hair mindlessly.

“We can’t not,” Nancy says as Robin giggles again, taking a drag. “You just… command the space.”

Eddie sticks his tongue out at her. She sticks her tongue out at him. Steve pulls Eddie into a kiss. Robin squeals. Steve flips her off without looking.

Nancy lets them have some cookie dough, but only after Robin rants to them about the dangers of salmonella poisoning. Steve leans against the counter between Eddie legs and holds up the spoon for him while Eddie holds the joint down for him.

Nancy procures a polaroid camera as if by magic. She probably just had it in the tote bag. Eddie is paying a ton of attention to her at the moment. He into notices the camera when there’s a flash of light, and she lowers it to reveal a grin. The photo goes on the fridge.

The weed smell is gone by the time the kids there in the evening, all piled into Argyle’s van, very unsafely but they’re all grinning and giggling when they stumble out. They all let out similar groans when they see Eddie‘s arm around Steve.

Thank God.

Jesus, finally.

Did you finally talk?

Are you guys friends now?

That’s Eleven. Eddie likes Eleven.

“Something like that,” he says to her, and her face lights up.

“Alright, everyone go inside,” Steve says, ignoring them all. His cheeks are pink. “It’s gonna rain again.”

As they’re headed inside, Eddie comes up behind Erica and scoops her up, holding her upside down over his back as she screams and laughs, hitting him.

When Eddie turn around, swinging her, Steve is watching with a smile that’s different than any smile he’s ever seen on him. Happy, but something more than that.

Content.

The kids all pile up on the sofa before the movie starts, bickering and arguing about who gets to sit where, who gets which blanket. Erica tells Dustin to move his legs because he’s touching her, and he throws his legs across her lap to be obnoxious. Lucas ends up between Max and Eleven, his arms around both of them. Will sets a leg over Mike’s leg. Nancy and Robin take residence on the smaller sofa, sitting close together despite the space on it, and Jonathan and Argyle sit on the floor against the sofa. Robin plays with Argyle’s hair.

Eddie waits until Steve is done attending to everyone, passing out soda cans and napkins and cookies and chips, rustling their hair and bopping their faces affectionately just to be annoying. And then he corners him in the kitchen, quiet as the movie starts in the other room.

He pushes Steve against a counter, and they’re kissing before he can even say anything, his hands on Steve’s waist, Steve’s hands on his face, over the scar on his cheek. Eddie tilts his head, letting his lips part, squeezing his waist, the softness above his waistband. Steve exhales sharply when they part, smiling.

“Alright?” Eddie asks softly. Steve nods. There’s something lingering on his face, in his eyes. “What is it?”

Steve hesitates, tucking Eddie’s hair behind his ears.

“I don’t…” He stops, biting his lip as he gazes at Eddie. The room is dim, softly lit up by the light from the hallway. “It feels like… like something’s missing.”

“What’s missing?” Eddie asks, tilting his head, his thumbs running back and forth.

“I don’t know,” Steve whispers, his eyes trained on Eddie’s mouth almost absently, like he’s zoning out. “But it’s… it’s good that it’s gone. Like it was never supposed to be there, and then it was, and now it’s gone, and I…” He takes a slow breath, his chest rising and falling. “Feel like I can finally breathe.”

“Are you happy?” Eddie whispers.

“Yeah.” Steve says it like he’s just realising it, blinking and looking into Eddie’s eyes. “I’m really happy.”

Eddie smiles, reaching up to touch his face.

“Are you?” Steve asks softly.

Eddie blinks, his smile falling. And he thinks.

Feels Steve’s warm hands on his face, their legs twined. Listens to the muffled movie in the living room, the rain outside. Knows that almost everyone he loves is under the same roof. Safe.

“Yeah.” He looks at Steve. “I’m happy.”

Steve’s finger presses under his chin.

“We’re the same,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, smiling. “We are.”

Steve closes the distance between them to kiss him again, his teeth catching his lip carefully, his hands spreading over Eddie’s neck and cheek, covering his scars like he’s keeping them safe.

When they pull away, Eddie tugs him into a hug.

They squeeze onto the sofa next to Robin and Nancy afterwards, and Steve is smiling the whole time, squished between Eddie and Robin. Robin sets a leg over his, and Eddie sees him reach down to squeeze her tight gently before he elbows her against Nancy. After a minute, Steve pulls at Eddie’s hand, and Eddie looks away from the television to look at him, about to ask if he’s okay.

But Steve wordlessly pulls at Eddie’s arm so he’s lifting it over his head, and Eddie sets his arm over his shoulders, pulling him close. Steve leans against Eddie’s chest, a hand set on his leg. He squeezes when Eddie starts to play with his hair, and Eddie feels him fall asleep after a minute, heavy against him, his shoulders rising and falling steadily with every breath.

He sighs, dragging his fingers through Steve’s hair as gently as he can, tilting his head to look at him, but he can’t see his face. So he just sighs again and presses a lingering kiss to the top of his head.

He looks up across the room, scanning over all the kids. Eleven is asleep against Lucas, an arm over his stomach, and Max is holding Lucas’s hand that’s by her shoulder, squeezing his fingers. Erica’s brows are furrowed in concentration as she watches the movie.

Will is looking back at him.

Or rather, Eddie realises after a moment when the television screen changes, brightening, he’s looking at Steve. At Steve sleeping against Eddie’s chest, holding his thigh, at Eddie’s fingers in his hair. Will is smiling, looking almost curiously, and his smile grows when his eyes meet Eddie’s.

Eddie jerks his chin up at him, gesturing vaguely, silently at Mike next to him, and Will looks away, at Mike. He seems to hesitate, looking back at the television, biting his lip, and then he finally lets his head fall to Mike’s shoulder. Mike smiles at the tv, and after a moment his head falls to rest on Will’s. Will’s eyes close.

Eddie sighs, shifting to settle into the sofa. Steve nuzzles into his chest, a soft noise escaping him, and Eddie runs his hand through his hair again, closing his eyes and listening to the rain.

#guys i really love angst you dont understand #i have a problem #this follows basically the exact same plot as another one of my fics and i am aware #i just have a hc that steve would be pissed at eddie for not running #so #anyway #drink some water <3 feed yourself <3 take your meds <3 be nice to yourself <3 love you <3 #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

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