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sattlersquarry · 8 months

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orange juice (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4 AU) Steve's world changes in the worst way when he loses you. He struggles to move on...but he learns he might not have to when he miraculously gets a second chance with you.

Word Count: ~8k

Warnings: 18+ PLEASE!!!! for language, death, grief, alcoholism, mentions of sex, mention of alcohol poisoning, and an allusion to a suicide attempt (in a miscommunication!!!! no one actually tried). the reader is presumed dead after the events of season 4. lots of angst and hurt/comfort with a happy ending bc if I ever wrote something without a happy ending my identity has been stolen. inspired by "orange juice" by noah kahan with some other references to his music sprinkled throughout.

a/n: i've been bouncing between this and bloom for the past few months and they are two very different fics tonally, but i hope you enjoy. please let me know if i missed any warnings because this one is kind of heavy.

🍊🍊🍊

ORANGE JUICE

MAY 1986

A ringing phone rouses Steve from a restless sleep.

A near-empty bottle of gin rests on the floor by his bed. He doesn’t remember drinking it, nor does he remember anything else from last night.

It’s been two months since you died. Steve’s not taking it well.

That horrible day, Steve, Nancy, and Robin ran from the Creel House and found Eddie and Dustin sobbing over you, your eyes lifeless and the wounds on your abdomen weeping.

I’m so s-sorry, Steve, Dustin had said through sobs. W-we tried to save her!

An aftershock of the initial gate-opening earthquake caused panic amongst their group. Steve wanted to carry your body back to the real world for a proper burial, but there was no time before the aftershock got much too intense. Dustin and Robin refused to leave the Upside Down without him. He wasn’t going to let them get hurt, so despite the fact it broke his soul in half to do so, he allowed his friends to drag him back to the gate in the Upside Down’s version of the Munson trailer, leaving you behind.

When the dust settled and reality set in that Steve was going to have to move on without you, grief overtook him. He turned to alcohol as a welcome distraction. He’s been consistently ignoring Robin’s desperate pleas for him to talk to a professional, to drink less, to try and really process his pain.

Steve should listen, but he won’t. Instead, he’ll grieve. He’ll wallow. He’d rather wither away into nothing than work on bettering himself, because you died and that’s not fair. To you, to him. To everyone who loves you.

Steve groans, a deep rumbling thing from deep in chest, as he stretches and rubs sleep out of his eyes. He blindly reaches for the phone on his nightstand.

“Hello?” he mumbles.

“Steve, hey.”

Steve sits up like a rocket at the tremble in Robin’s voice.

“Robin? Is everything okay?”

“Uh, kind of. I mean, yes! But no. Sorry, I just—can you come to Hopper’s?”

“What is it?” Steve asks. He staggers to his feet, getting tangled in the phone cord. “Is it Vecna? Shit, who did he take?”

“No one!” Robin says, voice way too high to be believable. “Please just come over when you can.”

Steve drives over to their basecamp at Hopper’s cabin, a million bad scenarios racing through his head. What if Vecna cursed Dustin? Or Nancy, or any of the others?

What if somehow he got El, and the Hawkins’ team was really doomed?

It takes Steve almost forty minutes to get to Hopper’s, due to earthquake damage and military roadblocks all over town. He raises his hand to knock on the door, but it swings open before he can.

Joyce smiles at him, but her eyes are mournful.

“Hi, Steve,” she says warmly. “Please, come inside.”

This isn’t what Steve expected. Hopper, El, Will, Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin are sitting on various chairs and couches in the cabin’s main room. Usually, it’s frantic around here: everyone running around with mixtapes, weapons, and crudely drawn maps of the town with markings where the most frequent monster attacks are. It’s never this still.

When Steve and Joyce walk in, everyone looks at him, sympathy in their eyes.

Steve’s first thought: Shit, is this an intervention?

Before he can ask, Hopper says: “The gates are closed, Steve.”

Steve’s mouth twists into a frown, heart pounding in his chest. That wasn’t the plan.

“Wait, what? How?”

“We’re not sure,” Joyce says. “But Will—”

“I can’t feel Vecna anymore,” Will explains. “And El checked this morning, and she found Vecna in the Void and…”

“He’s gone,” El says quietly. “Dead. Finally.”

Steve sinks onto a couch cushion. That should be good news. Steve should be celebrating, toasting to the death of the bastard that ruined his life and took you away by way of the demobats. But—

“We were supposed to go back,” Steve says. The back of his throat burns when he swallows hard, trying to choke down the sensation of nausea that’s either from his hangover or his panic. Or both. “We were going to go back and get Y/N’s body.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Jonathan says, looking down at his feet.

Steve whirls to Hopper, eyes blazing with a flash of anger that never seems to leave him these days.

“You promised!” he yells. “You promised that we’d go back for her!”

“I know,” Hopper says, keeping his voice even. “But something—or someone—killed Vecna in the Upside Down and the gates closed. The fight is done. It’s over.”

Steve’s lip wobbles. He won’t cry in front of them. He won’t. But his head spins.

“What am I going to tell her parents?” Steve says, voice cracking.

“You don’t have to do it alone, Steve,” Nancy says. She reaches a hand to touch his shoulder and Steve bats it away. “Steve—”

“This is such bullshit,” Steve snaps, turning to Hopper again. “If you had let me go back down there before, I could have brought her body back. We could’ve given her a proper funeral. Given her parents closure! But you made me wait!”

“It was the right choice,” Hopper says firmly. “I didn’t want to invoke another Vecna attack on Hawkins until we were ready to fight.”

“Maybe there’s a gate that we missed and—”

“We checked the gates this morning,” Robin says softly. “They’re all closed.”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Joyce says. “But it’s over.”

Steve doesn’t say anything else. He storms out of the cabin, ignoring Robin’s pleas to come back, to not be alone right now. Steve drives back home, not without stopping at the liquor store first and loading up on various spirits to numb the pain.

Over the next week, you go from declared missing to officially declared dead. Steve can’t let on to your parents that he had known for months, and Hopper doesn’t want him to tell them the truth about Vecna, demobats, and the Upside Down. It kills Steve to lie to their faces, to attend the funeral where they bury an empty casket, knowing what he knows. Knowing that your body is trapped in another dimension. Dead and alone.

🍊🍊🍊

NOVEMBER 1986

“Y/N wouldn’t want this.”

Robin’s words echo in Steve’s mind hours after she’s fallen asleep in the uncomfortable armchair next to his hospital bed.

An overindulgence forced Steve to spend his Thanksgiving in a hospital—not that he had any plans with his family to get ruined anyway. Although he had been invited to Thanksgiving with the Buckleys, Wheelers, Hopper-Byerses, Sinclairs, Hendersons, Mayfields, and Munsons, Steve declined every invitation. He resigned himself to a holiday alone without you, got heavy handed with a bottle of whiskey, and passed out in the neighbor’s lawn.

When he awoke, he was in the hospital. Joyce and Robin were there, the former fretting over him and the latter chewing him out for being such a dingus and scaring her so badly on a holiday.

Like a broken record in his head of the worst song Steve’s ever heard: Y/N wouldn’t want this. Y/N wouldn’t want this. Y/N wouldn’t want this.

Robin didn’t say it to be mean. She said it to get him to wake up. To cool it with the drinking, because if he kept going at the rate he was going, he’d meet a worse fate than a pumped stomach.

Joyce quietly reenters the room and smiles.

“Oh, you’re still up!” she says. “I thought for sure you’d try to get some sleep.”

Steve shrugs.

“I can’t stop thinking about all the ways I’ve screwed up.”

Joyce settles on the chair next to Robin’s, ignoring the sleeping girl’s loud snores.

“When I can’t stop replaying the past in my mind,” Joyce says, “I try to think about my future instead. What are my aspirations and goals? What can I do differently to achieve them?”

Steve chews his bottom lip.

“Is it bad if I have no goals?” he says, feeling quite sorry for himself.

“Why do you think that is?” Joyce asks gently.

Steve shrugs again, before rubbing his eyes.

“Shit, I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve spent the past 3 years on edge thinking I’m going to get killed at any minute?”

Steve barks out a hollow laugh. “Or maybe it’s because 2 years ago I met someone who turned my life completely around, and she did get killed, and I wasn’t there to save her or be with her when she died. And I couldn’t give her or her parents a proper end and every time I close my eyes, I see her laying there. And I don’t know what my future looks like without her. I don’t even think I want one.”

Steve hates crying in front of other people. But when Joyce wraps an arm around his shoulders, he breaks down.

“It’s going to be all right, Steve,” she says. She squeezes him a little tighter. “I know it’s hard moving on from loss, but you do have a future. You have so many people that love you and are going to help you figure it out. And Y/N would want you to keep going. She’d want you to go off and do wonderful things.”

Joyce was right. If roles were reversed, Steve would want you to keep going without him. Not waste away and drink yourself into a coma.

Steve’s life is changing. And despite everything, things might be looking up.

🍊🍊🍊

FEBRUARY 1987

There is a beautiful girl in Steve’s bed and she’s touching him all the ways he likes to be touched—but he can’t even enjoy it because she’s not you.

He tries to clear his mind of all distraction. The girl with him—Molly—is very, very hot. And the feeling of her hands all over him should be sufficient to keep him focused on the moment. But his mind keeps wandering to you.

You were the last person he was truly intimate with. Sure, he’s kissed girls at parties. But that’s different than what’s happening now. Different than being in bed with Molly and her wandering hands, her gentle touches, her salacious whispers.

Steve thinks maybe he’s finally done it. Found a girl that can help him move on from you, the girl to help him feel whole again. To not feel so alone.

But then, overcome with sensation, Steve makes the worst possible faux pas in bed: he moans the wrong name.

Molly ceases kissing him.

“What did you just call me?” she asks, sitting up suddenly with narrowed eyes.

Steve sits up as well, resting against his headboard and floundering for a response that won’t make him sound like a douchebag.

“I just, uh, well—”

“Who is she?” Molly asks. She widens her eyes in horror. “Oh my god, are you seeing someone else? Am I ‘the other woman’?!”

“It’s nothing like that,” Steve rushes to assure her. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to. I just got caught up in the moment.”

“Caught up in the moment thinking of someone else when I was about to blow you!” Molly snaps. She stomps off the bed and grumbles as she pulls her jeans and sweatshirt back on.

“Wait, hold on!” Steve says. He struggles to put a pair of sweatpants on, hopping around frantically one-footed to pull them up as Molly grabs her purse and yanks open Steve’s bedroom door. “Please don’t leave, Y/N—ah, Molly!”

“Unbelievable!” Molly scoffs as she stomps down the staircase of the townhome Steve shares with three other students at the University of Indiana.

Molly gets to the front door but stops, whipping around to face Steve as he catches up to her.

“Who is she?” she demands. “An ex-girlfriend?”

“In a sense, yeah, but—”

“If you’re still so hung up on her, maybe you should ask her to blow you instead!”

Steve thinks about being an asshole. About letting the anger that simmers in his bloodstream 24/7 rear its ugly head. About snapping at Molly, telling her that yeah, totally, he’d love to get a blowjob from a corpse stuck in an alternate dimension.

But then Molly would feel bad and give him the pitying look Steve hates. So instead, he says, “Yeah, I’ll do that. See you in class.”

Molly huffs before giving Steve’s cheek a sharp smack! He doesn’t wince. Upset at his lack of reaction, Molly storms out.

Just as well. Remembering how the love of his life is dead is a real mood killer.

Steve rubs his forehead and heads to the kitchen. He eyes the six pack in the fridge. He hasn’t touched alcohol in three months. The temptation causes his hand to graze a beer can, but he quickly pivots to a cartoon of orange juice.

He chugs the drink before stalking up the steps to his room. Steve drops to his knees and blindly reaches in the dusty space under his bed. He grips the corner of a box and drags it to the middle of the floor.

Once opened, two black button eyes stare back up at Steve. It’s Lambchop, a stuffed animal lamb that your parents gave him. After your parents held a small funeral and buried that empty casket, they gave Steve this box of your things.

Lambchop here was her favorite toy, your mother had said at the time, eyes glistening with tears. She always hoped to pass it on to her own children one day. I think she’d want you to have it.

Steve thanked your mother and father, gave his condolences, went home, drank enough whiskey to fell a horse, and passed out.

Shaking himself out of the memory, Steve climbs onto the bed and places the lamb on the pillow next to him. It’s one of few connections to you that he has left, so he’ll cherish it, even if it’s a little silly.

What Steve doesn’t realize is that in another dimension, the very person he’s yearning for lays in the version of her bedroom created by the Upside Down, holds a dirty version of Lambchop, and yearns for Steve right back.

🍊🍊🍊

MAY 1987

You and Steve used to have your futures mapped out: start at U of I together in fall of ’86. Move in together after your freshman year of college. Get engaged by fall of ’89, married in fall of ’90, and have two kids by ’95. Spend the rest of your lives together, happy and healthy, with the horrors of Hawkins far behind you.

That was before Steve’s world changed in the worst way. Before you died in the Upside Down, when you drew the bats away from the gate. You were a hero, trying to keep them from flying into your version of Hawkins and destroying it.

Steve struggled for a long time. He’s still struggling, but in a slightly better place.

He’s sober six months now. He thinks of you often, but he tries to focus less on how he desperately misses you and more on how you wouldn’t want him to spend the rest of his life miserable and drunk.

But he does miss you so, so desperately. And he would give anything to have you back.

It hurts being reminded of you, so Steve stays away from Hawkins. But he can’t say no when Mrs. Henderson invites him to Dustin’s sweet sixteen birthday party, so he makes the trek back.

“Steve!” Mrs. Henderson coos, opening the front door with a beaming smile. “Welcome!”

“Hi, Mrs. Henderson,” Steve says. She pulls him into a hug and he adds, “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s so lovely to see you too!” Mrs. Henderson says. She leads Steve through the house. “Please, come in! You can put Dusty-Bun’s gift on the dining room table. I have strawberry wine in the kitchen—ah, and orange juice, or lemonade. It’s yours if you want it!”

Mrs. Henderson pivoted to juice awfully fast. She must have found out about Steve’s Thanksgiving Break bender. Steve tamps down the feeling of shame worming its way through his mind and body, instead offering her another small smile before turning to the dining room to drop off Dustin’s gift.

Dustin and the rest of the Hellfire Club are in the den, playing a one-shot campaign that Eddie planned. When Dustin sees Steve, his face lights up.

“Steve! You made it!” he says, rushing over and giving him a bear hug.

“Hey buddy,” Steve says, hugging him back. “Happy birthday, Henderson.”

Dustin grins, and it lifts Steve’s mood immensely.

Mike, Lucas, Will, El, Max, and Erica greet him next, along with Eddie and his Corroded Coffin buddies. Eddie can barely look Steve in the eye, guilt from not being able to save you eating away at him. Steve’s told him multiple times not to feel bad about it—he knows Eddie and Dustin tried their best.

“Want to join the campaign?” Dustin asks Steve.

“Oh, I don’t know how to play,” Steve says. “I’ll just watch, okay bud?”

A short while later, Robin arrives. Once the campaign ends, Mrs. Henderson brings out the cake, and then gifts are opened.

“He looks really happy, huh?” Robin whispers to Steve, nudging him gently with her elbow.

Steve nods with a smile. Dustin took your death really hard—the two of you had been close ever since you helped him, Steve, Lucas, and Max fight the demodogs in the junkyard. Seeing Dustin smiling and laughing with his closest friends on his birthday makes Steve really, really happy.

Still, Steve’s heart aches. You should be here. You should be smiling as Dustin opens his gifts. You should be getting cake frosting on your nose, playing along with the campaign although you have no clue what’s going on.

Ice grips Steve’s chest. He gets a flashback of you lying on the cold ground, unmoving, and—

“You okay?” Robin whispers, brow furrowed. How the hell can she tell that he’s upset? It’s frightening how observant she is.

“Fine,” Steve says, throat tightening. He’s not. But he isn’t going to let his grief ruin Dustin’s big day.

At the end of the night, Dustin asks Steve when he’ll be back to visit again.

“My summer classes end in August,” Steve says. “I’ll come by then. Maybe we can hit the pool?”

Dustin seems disappointed that it’ll be a while before he sees Steve again, but he doesn’t push.

However, Steve ends up coming back to Hawkins much sooner. Three weeks after Dustin’s birthday party, Eleven calls Steve and tells him something that makes his heart stop:

“Steve, it’s about Y/N.”

🍊🍊🍊

Steve is a frantic mess.

He sits in the Byers-Hopper basement, knee bouncing as he intently watches El try to find you in the Void again.

El had told him that she’d sometimes look for you in the Void, hoping to give him some semblance of closure. However, she claims that a few hours ago, she finally found you for the first time and saw you not as a corpse, but fully alive. It’s a hope that Steve didn’t dare hold onto before, not until now.

As soon as she called, Steve got in his car and drove to Hawkins, going ten over the speed limit the whole time. He picked up Robin and Nancy along the way to El, Will, and Jonathan’s, and (unfortunately) Mike tagged along.

“Do you see her?” Steve asks, voice cracking.

“No talking, please,” El says, tightening her blindfold.

Steve purses his lips. Will gives him an apologetic smile and Robin squeezes his arm to offer a semblance of comfort. Jonathan looks between Steve and El, an uneasy expression on his face.

“I see her,” El whispers after a few minutes.

Nancy gasps. Mike’s eyes widen. Steve staggers to his feet.

“She’s okay?” Steve asks. “Where is she?!”

“I can’t tell,” El says. “But she’s holding a small, white fuzzy animal. Wait, is it dead?”

“Lambchop,” Steve says.

“Come again?” Nancy asks.

“Lambchop is her favorite stuffed animal,” Steve explains. His heart pounds in his chest at the realization that holy shit, you really are alive. “She must be in the Upside Down version of her house.”

“Y/N!” El calls. “Y/N!”

After a few more minutes of calling to you, El pulls off the blindfold and wipes her nosebleed away.

“She can’t hear me,” El says with a sigh.

“Maybe because the gates are closed,” Nancy offers.

“But if you open another gate,” Steve says, “we can get back through and find her. Right?”

“Hold on a minute,” Jonathan says, holding a hand up like a traffic cop. “Is that such a good idea?”

Steve narrows his eyes.

“Is it such a good idea to save my girlfriend’s life? Yeah, I think so, Byers.”

“Steve,” Robin whispers. “It’s okay. Just relax.”

“Relax?” Steve says, voice rising in volume with every word. “Relax?! You want me to relax? What about this fucked-up situation is relaxing! My girlfriend has been stuck in literal hell for over a fucking year! We’re going to rescue her, no matter what!”

“But opening a new gate could have major repercussions!” Mike protests.

“Screw the repercussions,” Steve snaps, glowering. “We can’t just leave Y/N down there to rot!”

“None of us want to do that, Steve,” Nancy says, keeping her voice level and calm. “But what if this is a trick from Vecna?”

“It’s not,” Will says. “If it was, I would feel his presence. I don’t anymore.”

“Boom!” Robin says, snapping her fingers. “If our human monster detector doesn’t sense any bad vibes, then we should be good to proceed.”

“Maybe we should ask El what she wants to do before we make any plans to open new gates,” Jonathan points out.

“Exactly,” Mike says. “El, what do you want to do?”

El looks down at her lap, before looking up. She locks eyes with Steve.

“I’ll do it. I’ll open the gate.”

Relief floods Steve’s whole being. He feels lighter. More hopeful than he has in a long time. But it all comes crashing down when—

“That’s not happening.”

The group turns to see Hopper and Joyce on the basement steps. Joyce looks worried, face twisted into a frown. Hopper looks angry, with his brow furrowed.

“But Dad—” El says.

“No buts,” Hopper says. “You are forbidden to open a new gate. You hear me?”

Joyce places a hand on her husband’s shoulder and says, “Now, Hop…”

Steve interrupts, walking over to the older man with a wild, panicked look in his eyes. “Hopper, please. Y/N is still alive in the Upside Down. We just need one gate so I can go through and bring her back. Please.” Hopper fixes Steve with a sorrowful stare, the smallest bit of guilt etched on his features. Still, he remains steadfast.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Hopper says. “I’m not putting my daughter at risk. She won’t do it.”

El, Robin, and Will all try to convince Hopper otherwise, their arguments overlapping into a cacophony. Nancy, Mike, and Jonathan share uneasy looks.

Steve can’t listen to this anymore. He quietly excuses himself, darting past Hopper up the steps and stepping into the backyard.

He sinks on the porch stoop and stares off into the quiet, cool night. He understands Hopper’s reasoning, but he doesn’t have to like it. He’s spent over a year mourning you, only to discover he might be able to get you back—for that hope to be dashed as quickly as it blossomed.

Steve picks a point in the tree line and focuses on it, putting all his energy into watching it so he doesn’t break down or cause any more of a scene than he already has.

He hears the squeak of the back door and Robin’s tentative, “Hey, how you doing?”

Steve shrugs absentmindedly, continuing to stare. Robin lowers herself onto the stoop next to him.

For a few blissful minutes, she doesn’t speak. She just rests her head on his shoulder and lets him stew in silence.

The spell is broken when she blurts out, “You’re not going to break your sobriety, are you?”

“Jesus Christ, Robin,” Steve grumbles, nudging her slightly so she’ll sit up. “You don’t have to ask that every time I’m in a bad mood.”

“Sorry,” she says. She picks at her fingernails. “Sorry. I just worry about you, you know?”

“I know,” Steve says softly. “I worry about you too.”

“Me?” Robin says. “No, no. I’m fine.”

Steve eyes the way her hands fidget. Before he can say anything, she blurts out, “I just don’t want a repeat of Thanksgiving. I mean, you almost died of alcohol poisoning. They pumped your stomach!”

“I know. I was there.”

“No!” Robin snaps, sounding awfully harsh despite the tears welling in her eyes. It breaks Steve’s heart to see. “You were unconscious! And it was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me, including all the torture and monsters, because I thought I was going to lose another best friend. I already lost Y/N. I can’t lose you too.”

She sniffles and Steve pulls her in for a hug. He can’t stop a few stray tears from falling down his own face as well.

“You won’t lose me,” Steve says, voice thick. “I promise, Robin. I’m not going to do that again. Okay?”

“Okay,” she mumbles, hugging him tighter. “I love you, dingus.”

“I love you, Rob.”

“That’s not fair,” Robin says, pulling away and wiping her tears on her sleeve. “You have to call me a mean nickname back or I just look like an asshole.”

Steve barks out a laugh and shakes his head.

“You are an asshole.”

“Perfect,” Robin says with a small smile. “Now we’re equally jerks. Just the way I like it.”

The back door opens and Will steps out.

“Hopper changed his mind!” he says with a grin.

Hope pumps like blood through Steve’s cold, shrunken heart. He’s going to see you again. Fuck, he’s going to see you again.

🍊🍊🍊

The next day, the group stands in the basement once more, this time making their plan for a rescue mission. Mike squealed to Eddie, Dustin, Lucas, and Max about what’s going on, and they all showed up wanting to help too.

“Not happening!” Hopper barks, a fierce look on his face. “New rule: you have to be 18 to come along.”

Eddie pumps his fist in victory, thrilled that he gets to come and try to make things right after losing you the first time. The younger teens grumble.

“But El is going!” Dustin complains.

“El is going to stay in the Lab with Joyce,” Hopper says. “She’ll open the gate for us and wait.”

“I can keep the gate open for one hour,” El says.

“That’s plenty of time to find Y/N!” Robin says brightly. “We already know she’s probably at her house.”

“And she lives close to Hawkins Lab,” Jonathan says, pointing to a map of Hawkins. “So we’ll be in and out.”

“It’ll be easy!” Eddie says.

“Don’t jinx it,” Hopper warns.

Nancy turns to Steve and pats his shoulder.

“You feeling good about this?” she asks quietly.

He nods. Although, truthfully, he’s terrified. If they come all this way, only for him to lose you again…he’s not sure he’d be able to handle that.

🍊🍊🍊

The Upside Down is not what Steve remembers.

The alternate dimension used to be dank and cold, like an endless winter’s night. Now with Vecna gone, it’s brighter, with a yellow sky and actual green foliage, not the moldy, dry shit from before. It seems less dangerous than last time.

No matter how much it’s changed, the thought that you’ve been here alone for over a year makes Steve’s blood run ice cold.

“This way!” Hopper barks, tracing his finger on his map of Hawkins and leading the group toward your house.

Jonathan and Nancy walk side-by-side with Hopper, glancing around at the tree lines constantly for any sign of danger. Eddie and Robin hang back, Steve walking slightly in front of them. He hears them whispering about something, but when he turns his head to try and listen, they quiet down.

He’s not an idiot. He knows what they’re worrying about: if they can’t find you, will Steve have another breakdown? Go on another bender? Would Steve even survive it?

Steve’s been wondering the same things himself. But for now, he stays positive, his optimism increasing tenfold when the six of them turn onto your street.

He can’t help but pick up speed, jogging past Hopper and causing the older man to snap, “Hey, stay behind me!”

Steve ignores his protests, shouting your name and pushing through the front door of your house.

He’s been here many, many times. He’s walked the pathway from your front door to your bedroom over and over again. Steve walks that path for the first time in over a year, charging up the steps and tuning out the concerned warnings from his friends.

He bursts into your bedroom, calling your name. He doesn’t see you, but maybe you hid when you heard the front door open. So he checks the closet, the ensuite bathroom, under the bed, to no avail.

Steve’s eyes sweep the space for any clues of your whereabouts. Most of the room seems untouched, except for your bed, where the sheets are rumpled and a grimy Lambchop the Stuffed Lamb sits primly on your pillow with her soft hooves crossed over her lap.

Steve picks up the toy, heart stuttering at the sight. You were sleeping here last night. You must have been. But where are you now?

“Steve!” Robin calls from down the hall, bringing him back to the present. “We found something!”

Steve gently places Lambchop back on the pillow—arranging her the way you always do, because anything else seems disrespectful—and heads back downstairs.

Hopper, Jonathan, Nancy, Eddie, and Robin are crowded around the kitchen table. On it is a sheet of paper with a rudimentary sketch of the town.

“Check it out,” Jonathan says. He traces his finger across the drawn lines. “It’s a record of where the gates originally opened.”

Sure enough, there are big stars drawn over Hawkins Lab, Eddie’s trailer, the road by the trailer park, Lover’s Lake, and the Creel House.

“That’s why she’s not here,” Nancy says. “She’s out searching for an opening.”

“We don’t have long,” Hopper barks, glancing at his watch with a grimace. “El can only keep the gate open for an hour. We have forty-one minutes to get back to the Lab.”

“We could split off into teams,” Nancy says. “Jonathan and I can go to Lover’s Lake.”

“Steve and I will hit the trailer park and the highway,” Robin adds. “Eddie and Hop, you can go to the Creel House.”

“We find Y/N,” Hopper says, “and we head back to the Lab. No wasting time. We move fast, we stay vigilant. Got it?”

The younger adults all nod and agree to stay on their walkies in case anyone needs to get in touch. Then, they split off to their destinations.

As Steve and Robin sprint toward the trailer park, Steve can’t stop panic from enveloping him head to toe. What if they’re too late? What if you’re dead—again? What if you don’t remember him somehow. What if—

“Look!” Robin says, throwing out an arm to stop Steve in his tracks. He skids to a stop and sees where she’s pointing.

Behind the closed curtains of the Munson trailer is the beam of a flashlight moving around. Steve’s heartbeat quickens.

“Okay,” she whispers as the duo slinks toward the trailer. “We need to think about this carefully, and make a plan to—wait, Steve!”

He charges into the trailer.

A figure flinches and whips around, hunting knife raised. Steve almost falls to his knees in shock at the sight. It’s really happening.

“Steve?” you whisper, voice cracking. He stands in front of you, hands raised and eyes flicking between your face and your knife. The corners of his eyes burn, tears starting to form.

He says your name, and the look on your face cracks his heart into seventeen pieces. He starts to step toward you, but—

“You’re not real,” you say quietly. “You can’t be.”

“No, I’m real!” Steve says. “It’s me, Y/N. It’s Steve. We’re here to take you home.”

You step back, still pointing your weapon at him.

“Don’t come any closer!” you shout.

“Okay, okay!” Steve says. He steps back, slowly.

“Steve!” Robin shouts from outside. “What’s going on in—”

“Stay outside, Robin!” Steve yells, voice wavering as he eyes your knife.

“But—”

Steve swiftly locks the trailer door without turning away from you.

The two of you ignore Robin’s knocks and protests. Eventually, she gives up, and Steve hears the crackle of her walkie-talkie.

“You can’t be Steve,” you say, shaking your head frantically.

“I am,” Steve begs. “And I’ve missed you so much—”

“You can’t be Steve because there’s no way into the Upside Down!” you say. He notices your arm start to shake. “Trust me, I’ve checked and checked and checked and there’s no gates anymore. And since my Steve isn’t a corpse at the Creel House, I know Vecna didn’t kill him and he’s back in the real world. If you’re not Steve, who the hell are you?”

Steve swallows hard. The back of his throat tastes acidic and he feels desperation wrench its way through every cell in his body. When he imagined his reunion with you, he didn’t anticipate this conversation.

“El reopened a gate for us,” Steve explains patiently. “We thought you were dead. But El looked for you and saw you were still alive, so we came to rescue you.” He glances at his watch and his brows furrow. “But we don’t have a lot of time. We need to head back to the Lab because she can’t keep it open forever.”

“How can I trust you?” you say. “How do I know you aren’t a trick?!”

“I’m really me, I promise,” Steve says. He hesitates before stepping closer to you once more. This time, you don’t move away. “We’re safe now, because Vecna’s dead.”

“I know. I killed him.”

Steve’s eyes widen a fraction.

“You what?”

“I had to,” you say. You shrug and look a little delirious. How much sleep have you gotten in the last year, Steve wonders. “Vecna brought me back. He would've flayed me and sent me to spy on and kill all of you if I didn’t kill him first.”

Steve almost falls over. The haunting fact that you had to fight Vecna alone makes his stomach turn.

The pained look on Steve’s face seems to shake something deep down in you. Any resolve you had crumbles. You heave out a sob, dropping the knife to the ground. Your knees buckle.

In seconds, Steve wraps you in his arms as you sink to the ground.

You cry, limp in his hold. Steve cries too, choking on encouraging words and apologies and everything he’s wanted to say to you since March 1986, when he thought he’d never speak to you again.

The door rattles. You startle and Steve holds you a little tighter.

“HARRINGTON!” Hopper barks. “Get a move on!”

“We have to go,” Steve says, urgent yet gentle. “We can talk more when we’re home. Okay?”

You nod, standing on unsteady legs.

Steve squeezes your hand before leading you out the door.

The whole rescue squad is out there, and you look wholly overwhelmed at seeing everyone after so long alone.

“No time for pleasantries,” Hopper says. “We’ve got less than twenty minutes to get through that gate.”

“Or it’s a slumber party at Y/N’s,” Eddie jokes. He playfully knocks his shoulder against yours and you gasp at the sudden contact. “Oh, sorry—”

“RUN!” Hopper yells, clapping his hands.

Everyone bolts toward the Lab. Steve and you run side-by-side, hands intertwined.

Shock envelops Steve’s senses, but he keeps running. The one thing racing through his mind is to get you back to safety.

The Lab’s gate is not the gaping maw it once was. It’s about the height of a minivan door, but its width is quite smaller—and slowly but surely shrinking.

El and Joyce stand on the gate’s other side, looking relieved to see everyone.

“Hurry!” Joyce says, waving you forward first. You hesitate, but Steve says, “We’re right behind you. Go on.”

You crawl through the gate and stumble to your feet on the right side of the universe. Steve would normally let everyone else go in front of him, but he wastes no time following behind you. Next comes Robin, then Jonathan and Nancy. Eddie and Hopper bring up the rear.

As soon as Hopper’s crawled through the gate, El drops her hand and it sews itself up—for the final time.

Steve and the others swarm you, all speaking too fast and asking a million questions. Joyce opens a first-aid kid and tries to sit you down and asses your various cuts and bruises. They hurt Steve to see.

“Look at her! She needs more than bandaids and alcohol wipes,” Eddie says, nodding in your direction.

“He’s right,” Jonathan says. “Mom, we need to take her to the hospital—”

“No!” you say. You stumble toward the staircase. “I need to go home. I need to see my parents, let them know I’m alive. How long have I been down there? I’ve been keeping track, and it has to be at least ten weeks, right?”

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. You look at him, eyes wild. “Y/N,” he says softly, “it’s been 15 months.”

That seems to be your final straw. Steve catches you as you pass out.

🍊🍊🍊

SIX HOURS LATER

While you get checked over by Dr. Owens and his people, Steve paces the hospital waiting room. Robin chews her thumbnail and watches the doors to the ER. Nancy and Jonathan bend their heads together and whisper, and Eddie attempts to distract Dustin and the other teenagers by juggling snacks from the vending machine.

After you fainted, Steve didn’t want to leave your side, but Hopper said everyone except himself and Joyce had to go home.

If our entire merry band shows up at Hawkins Mercy Hospital with a presumed-dead girl, it’ll look too damn suspicious, Hopper had said. Go home. Clean up. Wait three hours, and then you can come check on her. We’ll keep you updated.

In exactly 180 minutes, Steve and the others charge into the ER asking the nurse on duty about you.

“She’s still being looked over,” the nurse tells them. “Her parents and the Chief are with her now. You can wait over there and we’ll call you when she’s able to have visitors.”

Another 180 minutes go by. Now, everyone’s getting antsy. Steve has half a mind to charge into the ER and find you himself.

“Simmer down, Steve,” Robin says, noticing the way he’s squeezing the lilac teddy bear he bought you at the gift shop. “You’re choking the life out of that thing.”

“Why haven’t we heard anything from Hopper?” Steve asks. He checks his pager for the fiftieth time. “He said he’d keep us updated.”

“She’s probably going through a psych eval or something,” Max says.

“Or an interrogation,” Mike says darkly. “Maybe they think she had something to do with the murders last year.”

“Shut up, Mike!” Nancy hisses.

Steve curses and pinches his nose. Last year, a cruel man named Colonel Sullivan swept into Hawkins, searching for the real culprit behind Vecna’s kills after Eddie was proven innocent (thanks to a bogus alibi cooked up by Owens’ team). Steve was one of the unlucky few questioned, due to his connection as Jason’s former basketball captain. The thought of you, disoriented from so long in that shithole, handcuffed to a hospital bed while Sullivan grills you makes him see red.

Another sinking realization hits Steve: he’s changed since last year. What if you don’t like him anymore, once you realize how much of a mess he became when he lost you?

Hopper emerges through a set of double doors. Steve’s charging over to him in seconds, the rest of his friends piling behind and all talking at once.

Hopper holds up his hands to silence the group.

“Owens wants to run some more tests,” Hopper says. “They’re checking for contaminants in her bloodstream. You all can see her soon.”

He points at Steve. “Except she’s asking for you right now. You ready?”

Steve nods and squeezes your new teddy bear again. He gives Robin a panicked look, and she gives him a quick hug.

“Go get her,” Robin says with an encouraging smile.

Steve smiles back before following Hopper down the hall. Joyce stands outside your hospital room and smiles when she sees Hopper and Steve approach. Steve freezes.

Through the plane of glass in the door, he sees you with your parents. All three of you are crying.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” Steve says, backing away from the door. Before he can fully chicken out, Hopper bursts in and says, “Hey, look who came by.”

You and your parents look up. At the sight of him, your mother and father beam.

“Hello, Steve!” your mother says, sweeping him into a hug. “Can you believe she’s back?!”

“It’s a goddamn miracle,” your dad says, wiping tears on his sleeve. “We’ve been praying for this for so long.”

“Let’s leave these two alone to catch up,” Joyce says. “Grace, Roger, why don’t we pick up some food for Y/N?”

Your parents agree and step out with Joyce and Hopper. When it’s just you and Steve, all either of you can do is stare at each other with awkward smiles.

You clear your throat and point to the teddy bear.

“Is that little guy for me?”

“Yes!” Steve says. “Uh, sorry.”

He hands it to you. When your fingers brush, it feels electric. Still, after so long apart—no matter how much he’s dreamed of what it would be like if he somehow saw you again—everything feels stiff. You’re the love of his life and he can’t think of one thing to say.

“How have you been?” you ask quietly, seemingly just as uncomfortable as Steve.

Steve can’t help but laugh and says, “Terrible. I mean, shit. I know what you went through is way worse—”

“I don’t want to talk about what I went through,” you say sharply. Steve recoils and you wince. “I’m sorry, Steve. I just—I’ve been through this like five times with Owens’ guys, and over a cover story two more times with the cops. I don’t want to talk about me. I want to hear about you. What’s been going on?”

Steve wants to know more about what happened. About how you killed Vecna. About how you survived. But he doesn’t. He would never push you to discuss anything you didn’t want to, but he hopes that one day you’ll feel ready to open up to him.

Right now, you want to hear about his life. Where to begin. Steve thinks of sugar-coating the truth but doesn’t when he admits: “For starters, I almost died last year.”

You gasp and sit up a little straighter.

“What? Oh my god, what happened?”

“I’m fine now,” Steve says, waving away your concerns.

“Was it Vecna?”

“No, nothing like that. I really missed you, and I was in a bad place.”

You swallow hard, eyes turning glassy.

“Oh, Steve. Please don’t tell me you tried to—”

“No!” he says quickly. “It was alcohol poisoning. I drank too much being too lonely on Thanksgiving. Had to get my stomach pumped. It wasn’t all bad, though. Robin and I watched ‘A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving’ on the hospital room TV and Joyce snuck in some pie for me.”

You ignore his attempts and lightening the mood and wave him even closer to you. He cautiously approaches and intertwines your fingers when you reach for his hand.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I feel like it’s my fault—”

“Stop it.”

“Steve…”

“No!” Steve says. He shakes his head vehemently. “Don’t think like that. I just…struggled without you. But it’s not your fault that I’m a basket case.”

“You’re not a basket case,” you say. You squeeze his hand. “You’re the hero that crossed dimensions to come rescue me.”

You kiss his palm before scooching over on the hospital bed. You pat the spot next to you.

“What if your parents come back?” Steve asks.

“I’m not trying to hook up right now,” you say with an eye roll. “I just want you to lay with me.”

Steve is happy to oblige. He settles next to you. You rest your head on his shoulder and hug the teddy bear he brought you.

“So, you didn’t move on?” you ask quietly after a few minutes of peaceful silence. “Find a new girlfriend?”

“What?!” Steve asks, looking down at you, jaw dropped. “You really think I found someone else?”

You nod, fidgeting with the bow around your bear’s neck.

“15 months is a long time,” you whisper. “I don’t want to stand in the way if you're with someone else.”

“I couldn’t,” Steve says. He rests a hand on your knee cautiously. When you don’t flinch or move away, he keeps it there. “Y/N, I don’t want anyone else. I only want you, if you’ll still have me.”

You look up at him, noses practically brushing. The close proximity makes Steve’s cheeks flush rosy pink.

“You mean that?” you ask.

Steve nods. It seems to placate you, because in seconds, you’re lifting your chin to kiss him.

It’s a soft, gentle thing. An innocent brush of lips, like the kisses you shared very early in your relationship. Not the passionate “welcome home” kiss that Steve wants to give you, but he understands if you need to take things slow. He’ll move as slow as you need.

For the first time in months, Steve feels hopeful about his future again. Steve’s world is changing once more, in all the right ways.

🍊🍊🍊

EPILOGUE

You and Steve have your futures mapped out: after six months of physical and emotional healing, move in with Steve and join him at U of I in spring of ’88. Get engaged and subsequently married sometime within five years. No kids—at least, not biological ones, because your time in the Upside Down has caused lasting physiological effects that you don’t want to pass on to children. Maybe you’ll adopt a kid, or some dogs.

It's less of a map and more of an amorphous outline of what you two want to happen. All you two know for sure is that you never want to be apart that long ever again.

Steve’s heart and soul have changed, but they belong to you, and yours to him. Always.

🍊🍊🍊

a/n please lmk what you thought 🧡

tag list; @hollandweather @starry-eyed-steve @aloneinthehellfire @tvandfanfic @a-dealwith-god @stevebabey @keerysquinn @spoookysix @inkluvs

#st fic: oj #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic

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linnamonrolls0 · 3 months

Text

The Winner Takes It All

LMM!Hermes x Reader

Summary:

“devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes what doesn’t kill me makes me want you more…”

You accidentally find your way into the Lotus Casino, where a certain Greek god takes a keen interest in a game of poker, a sweet deal, and… you.

Rating: Mature

Words: 4,480

A/N:

I wasn’t gonna write this… until I saw some hater saying they’d [redacted] if they saw a LMM!Hermes x Reader fic show up - so naturally, being the disastrous Lin simp that I am, I HAD TO DO IT. After all, learning from the best in proving the naysayers wrong…

A lot of this was written pre-episode, allow it with a few inconsistencies and a lot of research-induced additions!

Mixtape... bloop - https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6v2ZfRamJRh8eP6qOqz4ND

Chapter 1: When The Chips Are Down

Contrary to popular belief, apparently it is possible to get lost in Las Vegas.

You were only strolling the Strip with a group of friends on the last day of your whirlwind vacation, but soon enough you found yourself at a dead end, unsure of what turn you’d even taken to get there.

Hoping to locate a restroom and some means of connectivity to contact your friends, you beelined for the nearest building, flashily labelled the Lotus Hotel and Casino: upon glancing upward, you were met with the sight of a forty-storey tower, with a wide open entrance marked by a blooming neon-bright lotus flower in front of you. It was the sort of place you would expect to be buzzing with life, but oddly enough nary a soul lingered by the shining silver doors; just stillness and silence, save for the muffled music pounding from somewhere inside.

Though you felt overwhelmingly uneasy, that entrance carried a strange magnetism that compelled you to step inside. Something that suggested all your fear would be put to rest the moment you walked through those doors… or into that flower, at least.

You tucked your hands under your sleeves and drew in a deep breath, before you crossed the petalled threshold into an opulent lobby decorated with lotus plants in intricately designed pots and inviting plush couches around the circular hall. The air conditioning was a welcome relief from the Nevada summer heat, and the whole place seemed to glow in a dark shade of pink.

You immediately felt an invisible weight ease off of your shoulders as you entered… What had you come here to look for, again?

Right, a phone charger and somewhere to pee. Of course, basic human necessities, how could you forget those so quickly?

Interrupting your line of thought, you paused in your tracks when a tall Barbie doll materialised in front of you, dressed in bright pink from head to toe; upon first glance she looked like some sort of projection, as though she wasn’t real at all.

“Welcome to the Lotus Hotel and Casino,” she greeted you in an almost robotic voice, with a plastic smile stretched across her face, holding out a shimmering green card. “Here’s your Cash Card, have a great time!”

“Cash… what? Do I have to pay for this?” you stuttered, confused beyond belief as you took the card. What was this place?

“No, not a penny!” She shook her head; not a single strand of her perfectly coiffed blonde hair shifted out of place. “Would you like a tour? Here, have a drink. Only the best in the world here!”

She offered you a glass goblet, filled to the brim with a dark maroon liquid and topped with blueberries, bearing the same eerie magnetism as the doors had done minutes before. You eyed the drink dubiously, brows furrowed as you sniffed it in a futile attempt to ascertain what exactly it was.

“I’m alright, thank you,” you politely declined, “What is—”

But before you could finish your question, the Barbie doll had disappeared as suddenly as she’d arrived, and the moment you sipped the strong floral drink, your questions completely evaporated.

Following your curiosity, you craned your neck and looked up to see endless floors lined with rooms and doors and glass balconies, with a pair of glass elevators in the middle. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if the great glass elevator could shoot through the ceiling like something out of a children’s book.

At least there were more people in here, though you were certain they too had just appeared as if by magic; not acknowledging you at all, they milled about in the lobby and outside the doors to the casino, beside to what appeared to be an arcade full of excited children playing classic and modern video games alike. Regardless of age, all the guests were clad in fancy-dress costumes; you figured perhaps there was an event taking place that had its attendees reflecting different eras of fashion. Wouldn’t be unusual for this town, everyone was dressed crazy and after three days traversing Sin City’s myriad clubs and casinos, nothing fazed you - or perhaps the effects of whatever you’d taken at that club last night still hadn’t fully worn off, who knew…

Still in a bit of a daze, you floated toward the immense double doors leading to the Casino, already hearing the jingling of slot machines singing proud over the pounding pop beats as their backing track.

The casino was lit by ornate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, deliberately dimmed to give way to the bright, flashing lights of the various gaming machines assembled around the hall, surrounding a set of card tables in its centre. Chatter and laughter filled the room and people crowded around the tables, playing without a care in the world and having the time of their lives; everyone seemed to have a goblet in hand and a cash card in the other, not dissimilar to your current state. It was warmer in here, though still comfortable enough that you could breathe… Just about.

You wandered through and your attention was glued to a game of roulette at a table beside you, where a couple had just won who knows what, when you were interrupted by a greeting that you just somehow knew was directed at you.

“Well, hello, there,” you heard in a smooth, low tenor behind you.

You whirled around on your heel to be met by… a guy. Literally just a guy, casually leaning on his gorgeously tanned forearms on a nearby craps table, aimlessly toying with a pair of dice in his left hand as he gazed over at you. He was certainly easy on the eyes with his vaguely familiar but handsome face, a mischievous little smirk on his lips, and pretty brown eyes that sparkled in the flashing lights… There was something about those eyes that drew you in. And for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away…

He looked like the most normal person in the room, but he seemed entirely out of place, given that everyone else was dressed to the nines - meanwhile he wore a comfy tan hoodie and sweatpants set, as if he perhaps owned it all and subsequently had no rules to follow in this already-lawless land. When he stepped around his table to approach you, he certainly did swagger around like he ruled the place, and his companions nearby looked at him like they worshipped the ground he walked on. Perhaps he was important, but how were you to know?

“You come here often?” he flirted, just about the most awful pickup line imaginable, but you were past the point of questioning why it still sounded attractive.

How had you ended up here, anyway? Hell knew… But this was Sin City, after all; a little harmless flirting could do you no harm, surely…

“Nope, never been here before. But weirdly, I don’t want to leave…” you shrugged, taking another sip of that strangely addictive drink.

“Sounds about right, Miss…”

“[Y/N],” you offered casually, uncharacteristically not hesitant.

“Pleasure to meet you…” he said with a playful lilt to his tone, holding out a hand, “They call me Hermes.”

When you shook his hand, for a split second you could’ve sworn you weren’t there anymore - when his smooth hand held yours, something akin to a firework went off inside your mind, and you’d put it down to just sparks if not for the phantom breeze you felt just then, a gust that nearly knocked you off your feet.

You couldn’t place what it was, exactly, but there was something strange about this man. He bore an almost otherworldly quality, as though he wasn’t human at all… But how could he be anything else? Come to think of it, there was a similarly supernatural energy about the casino itself; no wonder he fit right in to this weird wonderland.

“What, you got a Birkin in your back pocket or something, Mr Hermes?” you laughed, trying to shake off that odd suspicion, only to be met by his indignant scowl. Even that was cute.

“And what business do you have with my back pockets?” he teased, tucking one hand into the front pocket of his hoodie, to which you raised an intrigued brow.

You shrugged, nonchalant, still reeling from that strange feeling. “Nothing yet, but perhaps I’d like to find out…”

“Obviously I do not, but I could hook you up.” The innuendo wasn’t lost on you, least of all when Hermes smirked, that patented brand of mischief you were quickly growing quite fond of as he swaggered across to the card table; the players welcomed him back gladly. “Care for a game?” he asked, seemingly winning one without even paying attention to it as he rolled the dice carelessly onto the table that stood between you.

As he retrieved the dice, you eyed his hands curiously; they could only be described as pretty, as though he might be a pianist or… an artist of some description. He had his sleeves rolled back and a gold-plated Rolex glimmered on one wrist, a chunky gold chain-link bracelet on the other, and something about that on him was distractingly attractive. It all screamed money, despite his casual tracksuit getup, which would’ve been nothing special if it didn’t look so needlessly expensive in itself. You absently wondered what that obscure tattoo on his ring finger meant, for surely it couldn’t imply he might be taken…

“It’s not like you have anything to lose,” Hermes commented, interrupting your line of thought as he set a few chips down on the table and retrieved his own green Cash Card from his pocket, holding it up to show you. So everyone had them; then, what was the point?

Oh, right. You likely couldn’t do anything with the money outside, so, go figure it was an unlimited free pass.

“I guess I’m in. After all, what you gonna do when the chips are down?” you quoted a challenge, holding your own smug look at the recognition in his eyes.

“I see you speak my language…” he teased, “Even if those aren’t exactly my words.”

“Funny you should mention that. Has anyone ever told you you look a bit like Lin-Manuel Miranda?”

“So I’ve been told! Though, I think the correct expression would be that he looks like me. Same difference, he’s me, I’m him, whatever.” He waved a flippant hand, as if instructing you to ask no further questions on the topic.

“Gotcha…” You laughed, putting this all down to a wacky dream by now as you joined him by the card table. “What is this, anyway?” you asked him, raising your goblet in his general direction. He was the only person here without one, which didn’t entirely make sense to you, even in the logic of twisted fever dreams.

“Raise a glass to freedom… and throw it the fuck away,” he sang with a laugh, “Seriously, though, that’s a little addictive psychedelic beverage called blue lotus wine. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t drink a drop.”

“And what if I already did?”

“Well, then you’re well and truly screwed…” Hermes grinned, mischief dancing in his dark brown eyes. He swiped the half-full glass out of your hand and knocked back the remainder of the wine in one quick gulp, his gaze never leaving yours as he deposited the empty glass on a tray carried away by one of those apparating Barbie waitresses. “And now, so am I.”

He waved over another waitress and grabbed two new glasses of wine off her tray, politely handing one to you. He brought his glass to his lips, slowly sipping at the wine as you eyed his hand wrapped around the glass, absently wondering what that seemingly delicate touch would feel like on you… There was no reason why the simple act of this man drinking hallucinatory wine should’ve been remotely sexy, but you could say the same for him in general; this shouldn’t work, but god damn, it does.

“Was that really the best idea if it’s—” you began, and he quickly cut in.

“Absolutely not, no, but if you come here to forget, you may as well do it right…” Hermes sighed, a momentary flash of resignation in his stance as he briefly let his shoulders droop. “Anyway, whatever, fuck real life. Let’s play?” he offered, running a hand through his dark hair, seemingly shaking himself out of the memory of whatever haunting reality had led him here. As a matter of fact, what had led you here?

“Sure,” you smiled, “What are we playing? I’m pretty sure I saw an arcade on my way in…”

“Come on, there’s no stakes in that! This is where the real fun’s at,” he said with a light laugh, gesturing to the craps table in front of you.

“Speak for yourself. I’ll have you know, I’m amazing at air hockey!”

“Yeah? I’m a killer at the claw machine, so go figure.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Cute. Shame they don’t have an escape room.”

“Just as well, I’ve always been a little too good with locks… Besides, this place itself is an escape room. Only, there’s no escape…”

“Wait, what?”

“Because… You want to stay, right? What’s waiting for you outside?”

Suddenly, you found yourself struggling to answer his question. Where barely a few moments ago, everything had been so clear, now you could see a hazy cloud inside your mind as you desperately searched for the answer to no avail, almost as though that hallucinogen was beginning to hit hard…

“Outside? What’s outside? I — I could stay here — You’re… Huh?” you stuttered, “I don’t know where else I’d go.”

Hermes sighed, glancing over at you. “Literally anywhere but here.”

“Sorry?” you questioned, brows furrowed. Had you misread his signals?

“Walk with me,” he offered, and so you obliged as he stepped towards you again. You followed his lead as he strolled on within the confines of the casino, glancing surreptitiously around as though making sure you weren’t being eavesdropped on - though you could only wonder why.

“Alright, I don’t normally do this…” he drawled, “But for some reason I’m taking a liking towards you; and all trickery aside, I don’t take unfair advantage, so here’s the secret. You ever heard of Odysseus and the Lotus Eaters?” he asked seriously; you nodded your assurance. “Well, this place is kinda like their island… Only, now it’s here in the modern world, and what better place for it than Sin City? Hence the lightness in the air and the endless supply of blue lotus wine…”

You eyed him curiously, willing him to go on and trying not to focus on his initial confession. “I guess that explains a lot. So this is… eternal psychedelic bliss?”

“Yep, that good old adrenaline and dopamine rush, forever and ever and everrrrr… Half of Olympus has tried to claim it, but nobody really knows whose work of chaotic genius this was.” He shrugged nonchalantly, not at all like he was explaining such an outlandish concept. “When you’re in a casino, time just seems to work differently - and just like that, time moves at its own distorted pace in here. Lost travellers often find their way into this place, it has that draw when you stray off your path - and that’s why I hang out here, not just to wander astray from my own shit, but to guide you back to yours. I’m not immune to this,” he raised his glass, gesturing to the wine, “But I can handle the air just fine, unlike most mortals…”

“And what if I want to get lost?” you challenged, plucking his glass out of his hand, holding his gaze as you brought the drink to your lips. His gaze remained fixed on you as he bit his own lip, his eyes flickering to your lips for a millisecond as you sipped the wine; thirsty, not dissimilar to the way you’d been eyeing him mere seconds ago.

“Mmkay, lucky for you, I have some semblance of sense about me,” Hermes said, stopping by a poker table nearby, where the players immediately cleared a spot for the pair of you. Entirely nonchalant, he swiped a deck of cards off the table, expertly shuffling it as he spoke, “So win the next deal, and I’ll get you out of here.”

“So if I lose, I’m stuck in here?” you attempted to clarify the stakes, trying not to get distracted as you watched him shuffle those cards. Hell, he had such pretty hands, what else could you do but wonder what else he could do with them?

“Pretty much.”

“And what if I ask for a better deal?”

“Better than having your real life back?”

“Yep.”

“Try me…”

“Okay. If I win, my prize is you.”

“Me? What’s the catch?”

“Nothing. Just, you and me, until not even the gods above can separate the two of us,” you teased, peak dramatic, somewhere between flirting and floating. You could get used to this, the weightless feeling of flight…

Hermes quirked a brow at you, undeniably amused. “Interesting thought, given that I’m… well, not above, per se, but one of them.”

“You’re… what now?” You tilted your head to one side, looking curiously across at him. What in the world was he on about?

He shot you a pointed stare, isn’t it obvious? But it wasn’t, until now… when it all began to make sense, slowly: what this place was, how he knew so much about it, why he had a more heightened sense of awareness despite the inherent hypnotism of the literal and metaphorical lotus flower you’d stepped into… And he could guide lost travellers out. Your jaw dropped as your hand flew to your mouth when it finally dawned upon you who and what he was, and what that entailed —

And out loud, all you could manage was a whisper; “Oh, my god…”

The Greek god in front of you heaved a dramatic sigh, aiming a playful eye-roll in your direction. “Please, like I haven’t heard that one before,” he chuckled lightly, the sarcasm heavy in his tone.

And so you let him deal your hand and you played, stopping every so often to laugh, for Hermes was surprisingly fun to be around and perhaps staying here with him wouldn’t be so bad… Only, this couldn’t be his permanent residence. He was the god of travel, it made sense that he never hung around one place long enough to settle. It was obvious he had a natural charisma about him that clearly worked in his favour more than once; and not that it really mattered, but you absently wondered how many like you had crossed paths with him before, and the past baggage he’d been trying to forget was certainly not lost on you…

He had his right arm slung casually around your shoulder, his left occupied by his cards, not caring if you could see them. You tried your level best to stay focused; for you were feeling a little lightheaded by now, a combination of the wine and the strong scent of his cologne… He was close, enough that you could pick up the gentle sweet notes beneath the woody cedar scent he wore.

“All in?” you suggested, nudging your chips toward the centre of the table, glancing up at the literal god beside you.

“I am if you are,” Hermes smirked, pushing his own ridiculous amount of chips into the pot beside yours.

The game went on; and as if out of nowhere, thanks to a sudden turn in your luck and a surprise royal flush - which if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve attributed to him - you had finally won. Caught up in the daze, you stepped up onto your toes and threw your arms around his neck in an excited hug. He was momentarily taken aback by it, but quickly regained enough composure to gently wrap his arms around you. His soft touch bore a pleasantly startling contrast to his mischievous demeanour, and you found yourself not wanting to let go.

“Well played…” he congratulated you in that same teasing tone as he gently drew you back, briefly glancing at his watch and tapping two fingers against the side of the dial.

Perhaps you would’ve wondered why, but spurred on by your victory and high off the adrenaline, you hooked one finger in the gold chain around his neck and gently tugged at it to urge him closer, until the distance between you was barely a hair’s breadth. You could feel the warmth radiating off him in waves, his intense cologne flooding your senses. And suddenly it didn’t faze you that you were in public, and you paid no mind to the way all his casino companions were frozen around you instead of continuing their games… Suddenly, all you wanted was him.

Was it blasphemous to lust after a god?

Hell, you could deal with the consequences of that later, for right now, his magnetism was pulling you in and you couldn’t bear to look away from those deep, dark brown eyes… Until Hermes leant closer to you and his soft lips brushed yours as he spoke, barely above a whisper yet you could hear him clearly despite the noise, “Not at all…”

Your breathing hitched, at his comment, at his proximity, at… everything about this. How the fuck did he know what you’d been thinking?

Perhaps you’d dwell on that longer, but just then he reached up to cup your cheek. Though unexpectedly tender, his touch was white hot where his skin met yours, but pleasurably so as you let yourself get lost in it, in him… He pressed his lips to yours in two delicate little pecks, clearly just teasing, and you just about caught sight of his smirk before you stepped up onto your toes to kiss him again, for real this time. His other hand smoothly dropped to your waist, holding you against him and you pulled at his chain with your finger still caught in it, curling your other fist in the soft cotton of his hoodie.

Apparently, even the gods weren’t immune to carnal need, and Hermes was evidently faring no better than you; he gave in to the kiss quickly, all but melting into you, his tongue swiping insistently at your bottom lip, and you weren’t about to stop him. You parted your lips for him, granting him access instead of prolonging this teasing that had left you both desperate. He tasted of something indescribably sweet, mixed with the rich taste of the blue lotus wine that you’d both downed not so long ago, and you already knew he was a far better intoxicant than any drink you’d find here… As he deepened the kiss, his tongue brazenly tasting yours, borderline hungry; you saw a flash of light behind your eyelids, gripped by the feeling that you were flying, all for a mere moment before you became hyperaware of his heated touch and the fact that your feet were still firmly planted on the soft floral-patterned carpet of the casino.

It felt like time had frozen, the world had stopped around you, and nothing mattered except for him and you and the most perfect kiss you’d ever had…

But somehow, instead of clouding your thoughts like you’d expected, you drew back from his kiss with some clarity. Hermes had told you he could never lose. So why, then, had you just managed to win this? You were no expert when it came to these games, and he was clearly a well-seasoned gambling master… Had the notorious trickster god manipulated the deal in your favour? Had he purposely thrown this away for you?

The glimmer in his eyes only looked brighter as you separated, yet somehow those deep browns looked darker, lust clearly getting the better of him; and he made no effort to hide it, despite his small smile and the lightest hint of a blush on his cheeks. You were fairly sure you mirrored it all, and you were in no hurry to let him go…

Only, as the world began to come back into focus, you realised time really had stopped around you: everything and everyone in the casino was frozen, and you glanced up at the god in front of you with a mix of curiosity and fear in your eyes. “When you said you could stop time…” you began, still in disbelief.

Hermes nodded slowly, meeting your gaze with that characteristic smirk. “Yeah, I meant that literally. I may have had a running out of time crisis once, hence… this stolen life-saver,” he explained, raising his wrist to show you his watch - now upon closer inspection, you realised the hour, minute and second hands all pointed to 12, and he hovered a finger over a button at the side of the dial. “It’s up to you. Want me to bring it back?”

You shook your head. Not only did that beautiful gold timepiece look unfairly gorgeous on his wrist; it also held a piece of magic that could be incredibly useful… “No,” you whispered, “I’m in no hurry. Let’s make this last…”

You tilted your chin up towards him again, and he obliged you with another sweet little kiss. “Well, then… Perhaps I could show you some of the wonders of existing beyond space and time…” he murmured, “What d’you say to that?”

“I say, make time stop for us a little longer. Take me to another world, Hermes…”

The look he shot you just then, could’ve brought you to your knees on the spot - somehow you just knew he was fixated on the sound of his name as you whispered it, and you wondered how he could make you feel that just from a simple touch.

“C’mon, sweetheart; let’s get out of here,” Hermes suggested, offering you an arm; you linked your arm through his as he tapped the side of his watch, resuming the world around you as if it had never paused at all.

You gazed up at him in awe as he led you out of the casino, back to the lobby and towards the opening of the blooming flower you’d walked in through. The humid summer air hit you both as you stepped outside together, thereby breaking the spell - but you were still captivated by him, regardless. He briefly let go of you to do away with his warm hoodie, leaving him in just a fitted white t-shirt that had no business looking so goddamn gorgeous on him.

You couldn’t help but smile as he hummed softly in your ear, “There’s a place I know in a nearby park…”

Part 2 via AO3 (blasphemous smut ahead)

#lin manuel miranda #lin manuel miranda x reader #lin manuel x reader #hermes x reader #pjo hermes #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #my gif #my fic #pjo hermes fanfic #can't help it i love him

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prettyboyeddiemunson · 2 years

Text

part two: when i think about you, i touch myself

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: takes place directly after eddie catches you touching yourself in part one.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: oral sex (female receiving), fingering, squirting, breast/nipple play, unprotected sex, brief choking/throat grabbing & finger sucking, mentions of male & female masturbation, dirty talk. this is pure filth from beginning to end.

a/n: i know a lot of you have been waiting for this one, so i hope you enjoy it!! sorry for such a long wait, but as you can tell by the word count, this one is longer than the first part. also, apologies if you asked to be tagged and weren’t; the taglist would have been massive!

minors dni!

_________________________________

You were collecting yourself as you lay upon your bed, lost in bliss from your climax. A lazy grin was forming on your lips, basking in the afterglow of your own creation. Despite the fact that you thoroughly enjoyed yourself, you knew that familiar guilt would inevitably creep in—the type that usually accompanied the fantasies and how you chose to act on them. It wasn’t as though you were thinking such things about someone famous, or someone you barely knew; they were about Eddie, your best friend in the whole damn world. Of course, you couldn’t help the way you felt about him, nor could you just flip a switch to stop being sexually attracted to him. He was gorgeous, he was so fun to be around, he had the most radiant smile and the biggest, prettiest brown eyes you’d ever seen…

And you were head over heels in love with the boy.

You hadn’t always been, though, nor had you been in love with him for very long. Your romantic feelings were fairly recent–about six months ago, give or take–but they were so damn strong. In fact, you couldn’t believe that there was a time when you didn't love him; he was everything you ever dreamed of in a partner. When you discovered that you were in love with him, it was as if a curtain finally lifted and showed you what you were missing beyond. The realization came after a particularly difficult period in your life, where he had been there for you constantly. No one else was by your side in ways that he had been–sleeping over, cuddling with you all through the night, bringing drugs & booze (not the wisest decision, but it helped, all the same), and listening to you when you needed it most. You spent those days lying in his arms, his fingers brushing through your hair as you lay together, sometimes in complete silence as you took in the solace of the quiet company. That’s what sealed the deal for you, and opened your eyes to your own feelings; but even still, it felt so dirty to be imagining him in the ways that you always did.

The first time you got yourself off to him wasn’t too long after your realization. You were in bed, listening to the mixtape he made for you as a birthday gift, while flipping through the other half of the present–a scrapbook that he put together, of the two of you. It was such a thoughtful gift, and something that just seemed so unlike Eddie. Mixtapes, sure; he had a talent for making some of the best tapes you’d ever heard. Scrapbooking, though? It just didn’t seem to be in Eddie’s wheelhouse, but either way, you appreciated it. He chose some of the best photos of you two, and you couldn’t help but smile as you turned every page. Every photo of him, especially the ones where he was smiling or being goofy, made your heart sing with so much love.

Then you got to the picture of him out at Lover’s Lake last summer, and you could do nothing but stare as you swallowed thickly. This particular photo was a shirtless close-up of Eddie, showcasing the tattoos on his body and faint traces of muscle in his arms & chest. His long hair hung over his shoulders, curls frizzy from the humidity as he flashed devil horns to the camera with a wink & his tongue out. You’d seen him shirtless before, and only felt a small stirring of something you could never identify; but you never felt it as intensely as in that moment. You eventually ended up with a pillow between your legs, grinding against it as you coaxed two orgasms with the downright filthy thoughts going through your head. You felt a strange sense of guilt and bliss when you were done, and you also had time on your side that night. You had the entire night to fantasize about him, feeling the wetness spreading through your panties every single time you pictured him with his head between your legs, or his guitar-calloused fingers deep inside of you, or how goddamn good he would probably feel as he fucked the absolute shit out of you.

Now, though, you didn’t have the luxury of time. You had to get up and start getting ready for Eddie’s visit, even though he was still hours away from arriving. You needed a shower after that little session, since you were basically covered in a thin sheen of sweat and your own cum. You also wanted to have a little wiggle room to get yourself looking nice, so spending that extra time on those things definitely wouldn’t hurt. You began to wonder what he was doing at that moment, and how well practice was going for him. The very image of him playing guitar, his fingers running along the strings as he tossed his hair, nearly caused you to start touching yourself again. Every time you went to one of his shows, you had to fight with yourself not to jump him right there on that fucking stage. It made for some interesting fantasies later on, though; you had to give yourself that much, at least.

You sighed before you could start touching yourself again, propping yourself on your elbows. You shook your head, trying to free the thoughts from your mind as you focused on getting ready & what outfit you should change into. You thought about choosing his favorite, the one that he was constantly complimenting you on every time you wore it, and decided to see if it was even clean or not. If not, you would probably have to throw in a load of laundry, on top of everything else. You almost slung your legs over the bed, so that you could get up and start getting ready. You never made it that far, though; you were stopped dead as your bedroom door further opened, and Eddie walked in.

To say that you were shocked would be a massive understatement. Eddie was now standing in your room, his body language conveying anxiety, with his fly unzipped and a noticeable outline in the front of his jeans. You were mortified, and didn’t know what you should do. You didn’t want to believe that he heard anything, but you knew better. From the way he was acting, to the obvious erection straining in his pants, you had an inkling that he heard part of it, at least. Your heart hammered in your chest, your cheeks flaming hot as you ducked your head.

“What are you…?” you began, clearing your throat after swallowing. “What are you doing here? I thought you had practice.”

Eddie smiled, rubbing the back of his neck as you drew the blanket further up your body. “Oh, that got cancelled. I thought maybe I’d drop by a little early and surprise you; seems like I did a pretty good job of that.”

Your cheeks were still scorching, and you lay back against the pillows as you kept your gaze away from him. “How long were you here? I mean…how long did you…?”

“I’ve been here long enough,” Eddie replied, and you thought that you could see relief settling on his face. “It sounded like you were having fun without me–physically, at least.”

Eddie stepped further inside the room until he was next to your bed, and you kept your head down to avoid looking at him. Goddammit, you were foolish to believe that this would remain a secret; as often as you touched yourself to him, he was bound to catch you sooner or later. His fingers brushed your covered thigh, and the simple touch sent a shiver down your spine. You finally turned your head to him, and he was beaming at you with that familiar arrogance. You swallowed, unable to believe that any of this was real. If you weren’t so transfixed in those doe eyes of his, or still feeling so ashamed, then you would have pinched yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, shivering again as his fingers circled your knee. “I wasn’t expecting you until much later.”

“Nah, don’t be sorry,” he said. “It’s my fault; I should have called ahead, or just waited. But you know, if it makes you feel any better, that wasn’t the first time I’ve ever heard a girl moaning my name.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, watching his fingers as they trailed along your thigh. His fingertips glided down your calf, then up to your knee, before the backs of his fingers brushed along your inner thighs. His touch was innocent enough, but it sent a fresh jolt of arousal straight to your cunt. You pressed your thighs together after he moved his fingers back to your knee, trying to quell the ache that was settling between your legs. He sat on the bed, one arm on your other side as he leaned over you, his lips pulling into a smile. His face was inches from yours, and it took every ounce of willpower you had not to close the gap and kiss him until you were both breathless. The fingers that were on your leg now came up to caress your cheek, his eyes boring deeply into yours.

“What were you thinking about?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t know what you–”

“Oh, come on, y/n. You know damn good & well what I mean. Look, you can tell me, alright? I promise that I’m not going to judge you, or that it won’t be weird.”

“It really won’t be too weird?” you asked, chewing your lower lip in uncertainty. “I mean, I know you just…heard me in here–”

“Not only heard, saw,” Eddie interrupted, moving closer to you. Your eyes grew big, and he shook his head with a reassuring, gentle smile. “No, no, don’t worry. I’m not grossed out or freaked out, or anything. It was fucking hot as shit, honestly.”

“You’re really not disgusted?” you asked. “Considering how close we’ve always been?”

“Let me tell you a little secret,” Eddie said, looking around the room for dramatic effect. When he turned to you again, his lips were now barely an inch from yours. “You have been my top sexual fantasy for the last two years.”

Your eyes widened in shock, and you weren’t even sure that you heard him correctly. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Eddie said, putting his fist over his heart as a signal that he was telling the truth. He gripped the back of your neck, caressing the skin there as his eyes met yours again. “You’ve actually been my ONLY fantasy for two years, so I guess I kinda bent the truth a little bit when I–”

“Eddie?”

“Yes?”

“Can you please stop babbling and just…kiss me?”

He smirked, but couldn’t mask the surprise at what you’d said. It was written in his eyes, in the way his lips slightly parted before he smiled, in his entire demeanor. He leaned in closer, but hesitated when his lips were just a breath from yours. You had a hunch as to why he was so reluctant, because the same thought had also crossed your own mind. If he kissed you, everything between the two of you would change forever. However, when you considered the fact that he just saw you masturbating to him, a kiss was actually the most tame thing you could do. You curled your lips inward, and then pressed them to his when you felt a momentary surge of courage.

His lips were soft and sweet against yours, so warm and welcoming. You could feel the tension in his body melting away at the contact, and his hand that was on the back of your neck now settled behind your head. One of yours rested on his shoulder, toying with some of his long hair as you wrapped it around your fingers. He shuddered, kissing you harder and more desperately as you hummed against his lips. He drew you closer by the waist with his other hand, which caused you to mewl softly. His tongue found your lips, subtle at first as the tip swiped over the seal of your mouth. His desire became more obvious, though, with the greedy pressing of his tongue against your lips. You opened your mouth to accept him, and his tongue swiped past yours as you whimpered. He was an even better kisser than you imagined, and you couldn’t get enough of him already. You sat up and slung your legs on either side of his lap, the blanket that covered your body falling to the floor. You braced your hands on his shoulders for a moment, straddling him before tangling your hands deeply in his hair. The two of you were still kissing, and his hands came down to squeeze your now-exposed ass.

“Eddie,” you sighed as the kiss broke, your breath stolen as he began kissing down your neck.

“That’s it,” he cooed, smiling against your skin. “Say my name, just like that.”

“I…” you began, crying out as he gently bit on the most sensitive area of your neck. You began to grind against him, rocking your hips against his clothed erection, the wetness of your pussy soaking the front of his jeans. You could feel his cock pulsating against you through the fabric, and your nails grazed his scalp as he sucked the area where your neck & shoulder joined. “I did this to you, huh? Listening to me get myself off made you throbbing hard like this?”

“Mmm hmm,” he hummed, the pressure of his mouth on your sensitive skin making your head swim. “Seems like I’m not the only one who’s turned on, though. It feels like you’re making a pretty good mess all over my pants right now.”

“I can’t help it,” you said, your hips still grinding against him as both of you mewled. “You just have that effect on me.”

“That makes two of us, then,” he said with a breathy laugh, but before you could respond, he was attacking your lips in a hard, messy kiss.

You were still stunned over how right all of this felt. You had been so worried that it might be awkward, or feel forced, or that it would be so wrong altogether. But his hands trailing over your back, as he kissed you like you were the very thing keeping him alive, squashed those fears. The two of you kissed hotly, sloppily, both of you moaning softly in each other’s mouths as his hands dipped under your shirt. With every trace of his fingers down your spine, you fell even more in love, and when they finally made their way to the front of your body, you felt something else entirely. His fingers caressed the bare skin beneath the shirt as they slowly, teasingly made their way to your breasts. You nearly exploded, your body leaning into his touch as you anticipated his next move. You were lost in lust, drowning under the waves of desire until you were breathing in nothing but him.

“Mmm,” you breathed, his hands enveloping your breasts. Your hands tangled even more deeply in his hair, tugging as he massaged your tits in his palms. His tongue pressed deeper into your mouth as he kissed you passionately, his groan vibrating against your lips. Your head fell back as he pinched a nipple between his fingers, and he took that as an opportunity to leave open-mouthed, rough kisses over your throat. “Fuck, Eddie…”

“Shit,” he hissed, tugging both nipples before rubbing the erect buds with his thumbs. “Did you think about me doing this? Or maybe it was more along the lines of this?”

He pushed you onto your back, sinking lower until his mouth was level to your nipple. He put his mouth over the still-clothed bud, and it peaked further under his lips. You sucked in a breath, grabbing his hair in one hand and the headboard in the other. His breath, hot and damp, felt incredible as the cloth of your shirt held it hostage against your skin. The sensation that his tongue left behind–the added friction, the pressure he used, the feeling of his breath–had you clawing at his scalp as he mewled. His eyes trailed up to your face, watching you closely as he sucked generously. He stopped after a moment and you whined, eyes finding him to see what he was up to.

“When you imagined me doing this,” he said, his chin propped on your chest, “I’m betting the shirt wasn’t part of the equation. Was it?”

“No,” you said with a slight shake of your head. “It…It wasn’t.”

“So, you did fantasize about it, then?” Eddie asked smugly, tugging your nipple in his teeth as you moaned.

“Yeah, I did,” you admitted. “I imagined you ripping off my shirt and sucking on my tits. The thought of that always makes me so wet; you have no fucking idea.”

“Ripping it off, huh?” Eddie said, smirking as he studied the shirt. “How much do you like this one?”

“I didn’t mean literally!” you cried with a laugh.

“I think I could tear it,” Eddie mused. “It looks pretty thin and flimsy. Shall I give it a shot?”

“You’re unbelievable,” you teased, watching as he grabbed the neck of your shirt. “Do your worst.”

It took Eddie two tries, but he actually did tear it. It ripped down the middle, and you felt heat rushing to your pussy as you heard the fabric tearing. He licked his lips as your breasts were now fully exposed to him, studying them for a long moment before his eyes trailed to your face. He ran his hands over them, looking into your eyes before his gaze flickered back to your chest. He dipped lower, kissing slowly between the valley of your breasts before stopping just below your collarbones. He went down again, kissing the tops of your breasts and rutting against your thigh with a deep groan.

“You’re gonna make me cum in my pants like a fucking teenager,” he said with a chuckle. “I knew your tits would be perfect, but I had no idea just how much.”

“If you need to cum, maybe we should get down to it,” you said. “I don’t want you to suffer for too long.”

“I’ll be fine,” Eddie assured. “This is about you, and making you feel good. I’m bound & determined to make your fantasy come true, no matter how long it takes.”

“But–”

“No buts. All I want you to do is relax, have fun, and tell me what you were fantasizing about so that I can recreate it. Okay?”

“I guess that doesn’t sound too bad...”

“Not at all,” Eddie replied, flicking his tongue over your nipple before pulling it into his mouth.

You thought that Eddie sucking through your shirt had felt good, but it didn’t compare at all to this. His tongue was like velvet against your hot skin, his soft mewls sending slight vibrations through your nipple. You closed your eyes as you moaned, his lips working firmly as he applied pressure with his tongue. He swirled it, tracing circles as his fingers pinched the opposite bud. Your breathing was growing heavier, and you were a wet, near-quaking mess underneath him. His weight on top of you–fully clothed, bearing upon you as he lost himself in his actions–was almost too much to handle. It was incredible, and you needed so much more than what he was currently giving you.

“Tell me more,” Eddie begged as he switched to the other breast. “Please?”

“You...mmm…” you breathed, his tongue massaging your other nipple as you gave his hair a slight tug. “I asked you to finger me while you…while you were doing this.”

“Is that what you imagined as you played with these earlier?” he asked, squeezing one of your breasts in his hand for emphasis. “And while you fingered yourself, too? That IS what you were doing, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you said. “I pictured you fingering me so deeply while you sucked on my tits. I also fantasized about you eating me out; that one came as I was rubbing my clit.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Eddie said, smiling as he looked up at you. “You were honest with me, so now I’m going to be honest with you. Not only have I fantasized about those things with you, but I can certainly arrange to make them happen. If you want to, that is.”

“I do,” you say, practically begging at that point. “Please, I want that so fucking much.”

“Then consider it done,” he said, taking your nipple between his lips once more.

This time, however, his hand travelled lower, slowly taking in the skin of your stomach, hip, and thigh. You hissed as one calloused fingertip made contact with your wet pussy, and he groaned as he felt just how soaked you were for him. He dragged two fingers from your entrance to your clit, his mouth working harder against your breast as he did so. When he finally put his full attention to your clit, you whimpered from the slight overstimulation as a result of your earlier climax. He let off a little, ghosting his fingers through your inner lips instead.

“Sorry,” he said, gazing at you through his hair that had fallen into his eyes. “You’re so fucking wet, y/n. All of this because of me? Because of the fantasies you were having?”

“Yeah,” you panted, crying out as he pushed two fingers inside of you.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, grinning as you nodded quickly. “Good. That’s my good girl.”

The praise caused you to mewl, clenching around his fingers as they delved inside of you to just below the middle knuckle. You felt so full, and the coolness of his rings in contrast to your hot cunt caused you to shiver. His tongue wrapped around your opposite nipple as he fucked you slowly on his fingers, and you knew instantly that you were already addicted to him. He was so much better than you had ever imagined, and your fingers could never compare to how good he felt. He was moaning as well, increasing the speed of his working digits before rotating them slightly inside of you. The sounds of his fingers fucking into you, along with the soft noises falling from his lips, were driving you up the fucking wall with desire. You moaned, closing your eyes again as you yanked his hair, the pads of his fingers pressing rapidly into your sweet spot every time he thrust them inside.

“Jesus, you feel so good,” you panted, and he smirked at you. “Don’t say it.”

“Better than you pictured, huh?” he questioned smugly.

“I thought I just said–” you began, cut off with a loud moan as he pumped his fingers even harder. “Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, withdrawing his fingers as you whined at the loss. He sat up a bit, bringing his soaked, glistening fingers to his mouth as he made eye contact with you. He separated them, and you could see a sticky line of your juices bridging his fingers together. He shivered at the sight, drawing them into his mouth and groaning as your taste hit his tongue. He didn’t stop until they were sucked clean, his brown eyes blown even darker with lust. “You taste even better than I always thought you would, and that’s saying a hell of a lot.”

Before you could respond, Eddie was making his way down your stomach. He playfully bit at your lower belly as you laughed, and then he was pulling you to the edge of the bed. He knelt in front of you, and you swung your legs over his shoulders as he held onto your thighs. The anticipation of what he was about to do nearly killed you, and he began to leave hard, needy kisses along your inner thighs that only added fuel to the fire. His gaze settled on your cunt, and he drew back to get a better look. He made a soft sound of approval, before squeezing your thighs and delicately caressing the skin there.

“You have such a pretty pussy,” he remarked, nuzzling along your groin. “Is it still okay for me to carry this out, or did you decide that your fingers would do a better job instead?”

“Oh, stop it,” you teased, chuckling softly. “I definitely still want you to. I don’t think anything could change my mind.”

Eddie nodded, spreading your legs further apart for even better access. He dragged his nose through your inner labia, nuzzling along as you shuddered violently. The tip of his tongue ran through your folds, teasing as you began to whine pleasurably. His hair tickled the insides of your thighs, the cool metal of his rings on your skin sending goosebumps all over your body. His dark eyes found your face, and yours settled on him, watching as he drew your cunt impossibly closer to his mouth. You were getting wetter, and he apparently took notice as he groaned softly & began eating you out vigorously.

You had imagined this exact scenario far more times than you would ever outwardly admit. It had to arguably be your top fantasy when it came to Eddie, in any and all forms: Sitting on his face, lying on your back, him eating you out from behind, every single conceivable position and situation. The real thing was far exceeding any & all expectations, and all you could do was moan & writhe as he played your body perfectly. His plump lips were kissing from your entrance to just below your clit, his silky, warm tongue swirling and tracing all along your soaked pussy.

“Fuck, you really do taste incredible,” Eddie said, licking around your entrance before rapidly darting his tongue in & out of you. “I think I’m already addicted to you.”

“I’m pretty hooked on you, too,” you said, his fingertips digging further into your skin as he fucked you faster on his tongue. “Eddie…”

“Does it feel good?” he asked, a bit of uncertainty in his voice. “Should I do something else?”

“No, fuck,” you panted. “Don’t you dare stop.”

“Your wish is my command,” he said with a wink, and set back to work.

He lapped at the inside of your pussy, moving his tongue around as one hand came toward your inner lips. His thumb ghosted your clit, swiping softly as your back came slightly off the mattress. That same hand snaked under your thigh to bring you closer to his face, his lips & tongue working feverishly against your aching, drenched cunt. He watched your reactions, two fingers pushing inside of you again as he moved his mouth to your clit. His dark hair fell into his eyes, which were still taking in your every reaction while occasionally flicking to your heaving chest. His lips enveloped your swollen clit, sucking the small bundle into his mouth as his tongue pressed firmly against it. He moved his tongue quickly back & forth and up & down, pumping his fingers in time with those movements. He curled the digits against your sweet spot, and your head tipped against the pillows as the pleasure threatened to swallow you whole.

“Still doing okay?” Eddie checked in, adding a third finger after you nodded. “Your pussy is the best I’ve ever fucking had.”

“How many times have you used that line?” you joked.

“Including today?” he asked, his fingers still fucking you as he wore a thoughtful expression. “Exactly…one time.”

“Bullshit,” you said with a laugh, moaning hotly as his fingers pressed tightly to your G-spot.

“No, seriously,” Eddie insisted. “I can’t wait to fuck you. I’ll warn you, though: I don’t think I’ll last too long.”

You chuckled at that, and before you could hit back with a witty remark, he was eating you out again. Your mind was hazy, full of absolutely nothing but the surrealism of the entire situation. You never thought that you’d be here–three of Eddie’s fingers filling your cunt as deeply as possible, his mouth focusing on your clit, his ravenous eyes watching your every move–but here you were. He increased speed, going impossibly fast as he moaned loudly against your pussy, shaking his head rapidly as he did so. The vibration sent a fresh bolt of arousal through your body, and the coil in your stomach was so close to snapping as your moans echoed around the room.

Your hands found his hair, holding on and pulling as his tongue vigorously swirled your clit. He curled his fingers quickly, making sure to press firmly on your G-spot every time. His mouth increased pressure on your clit, tongue flicking before trailing downward to explore the rest of your pussy. He slowed, causing you to whine, before nearly pulling his fingers out completely. You were ready to protest, but then he was slamming them inside of you again before resuming an even faster pace on your clit.

“I’m so fucking hard right now,” Eddie breathed, his free hand leaving your thigh to slide up your body and settle on your breast. “Are you close?”

“Mmm hmm,” you hummed, hissing as he rolled your nipple in his fingers.

“Go ahead,” he coaxed gently, both hands moving from their previous positions to hold your hips down. “Cum for me. Show me that I can make you cum harder than you ever imagined possible during your little fantasies. I wanna know if I can do it better than you can yourself.”

Your thighs were trembling violently around his head, your skin on fire and breathing heavier as your climax approached. He kept his gaze on you, admiring your form through his hair & eyelashes as he ruthlessly ate you out. Watching him, feeling his hard grip on your hips, and feeling what he was doing, catapulted you over the edge. You came harder than you ever had in your life, either alone or with someone else. You squirted in his face, his name leaving your lips in desperation as you arched your back, your grip like iron in his long, thick curls as your orgasm rocked your entire body. You could feel him grinning against your cunt, groaning as you tugged roughly at his hair. His tongue continued to work, albeit much slower this time, but you were so overstimulated that you couldn’t tolerate anymore contact just yet.

“You enjoyed yourself quite a bit, by the looks,” Eddie teased, drawing away as you pushed at his head. “Don’t remember you cumming quite that hard earlier.”

“I didn’t,” you breathed, still seeing stars from the force of your climax. “Fuck, you were…”

“I’m good,” Eddie said, standing from the floor and stretching his legs. His chin was absolutely drenched, his lips glistening, and the tip of his nose shiny with your cum. “You don’t have to finish that sentence; I could tell from the way you just super-soaked my face.”

“Sorry,” you said, smiling bashfully.

“Nah, don’t be,” he said, shrugging his vest & jacket to the floor before sliding his pants down. He kicked his shoes & socks off to join them, the jeans following suit before he yanked his shirt off. “Get the rest of your shirt off for me.”

You sat up, discarding the remains of the torn shirt to the ground. He glanced you up and down, whistling at your fully nude form. You admired the tattoos that decorated his body, taking them all in as he finished undressing. His erection was now present to you, and you chewed your lip as you admired it. He was bigger than you expected–not huge, but definitely not average, either. He had a lot of girth as well, his thick shaft beading precum at the tip as his balls hung heavy. You moved closer to him, taking his cock in your fist to feel the warm, throbbing weight of it against your palm. His hips stuttered in response, and he moaned before gently pushing your hand away with an apologetic smile.

“We’d better do this now, unless you want me to make a mess all over your hand,” Eddie said. “How do you wanna do it?”

“I wanna ride you,” you replied, propping yourself on your knees to kiss over his upper chest tattoo. “I’m tired of being on my back.”

“Well, I certainly won’t say no to that,” he said, his arms encircling your waist as he threw both of you backward onto the bed again. Your nude bodies pressed together perfectly, and he kissed you messily before rolling onto his back. He pulled you with him, coaxing you into his lap before you straddled him. He eyed you from head to toe, licking his lips as he did so. “Hit me with your best shot.”

You positioned yourself over his cock, grasping it in your hand as you guided it toward your pussy. His hands settled loosely on your hips, his eyes on yours as he waited. You took a deep breath, shaking off the last of your nerves, before bracing your free hand on his shoulder. You fully sank onto his cock, moaning filthily as his thick, aching length entered you. Your cunt felt so full, so stretched, and you swore that you never felt anything quite like it before. You’d used your fingers, toys, anything you safely could, but it all paled in comparison to Eddie’s cock. He seemed to be enjoying it, too; his head was thrown back on your pillows, his dark hair spread over them with some in his face, his grip on your hips tightening as filthy groans fell from his full lips. You took a moment to adjust and get used to how amazing he felt pulsating against your slick, warm walls, your lips slack as you met his eyes. He was gazing back at you with such desperation and lust that you nearly combusted on the spot, his fingers tracing soft circles around your hips.

“Christ, you’re so goddamn wet,” he said, his hands running up your sides. “You feel fucking incredible, y/n.”

“So do you,” you replied, lifting your hips a little and coming back down with a whimper. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

“Oh, you poor little baby,” Eddie said with a playful, mocking pout. “Were your fingers not good enough? Did none of the dudes before me have a dick this big?”

“Don’t get smart on me now,” you begged, finding a steady rhythm as you both gasped at the sensation. “Eddie, shit…”

“Mmm, that’s it,” he praised, his eyes on your breasts as you bounced a little faster on his cock. “Give me a show, sweetheart. Show me how desperate you are to cum for me again.”

Your hips moved at a medium pace, because you didn’t want to go too fast just yet, but you also didn’t want to go slow. Eddie’s hands grabbed your tits, squeezing them in his hands and giving each nipple a hard pinch as your head lolled. You mewled filthily as he kneaded your breasts, your lips open as he rutted upward to meet your rhythm. Your hands rested atop his before trailing down his arms, and finally settling upon his chest. You scratched him as he bucked directly into your sweet spot, his hands leaving your breasts to hold your waist as you rode him even more quickly.

“God, this feels so good,” you panted, trying to find a new angle so that he could hit into your G-spot more directly again.

“Did you imagine this, too?” Eddie questioned, his hands sneaking around to grab your ass. He gave it a playful swat, which caused you to groan hotly. “Riding me like this? Feeling me inside of you as I played with those amazing tits? Did the thought of any of this get that pussy of yours soaking for me every goddamn time you fantasized about it?”

“Yes to all of it,” you said. “Every single time.”

“What a little slut, getting herself off all the time because she can’t stop thinking about my dick,” Eddie said, and you moaned at the nickname. “You like being called that?”

“A little bit,” you admitted, grinding your clit against him as you brought your hips down fully. “I have so many fantasies about you. It’s kinda ridiculous.”

“Doesn’t sound too ridiculous to me,” he said, his hand wrapping around your throat as he smirked. “Is this one of them?”

You nodded, and he reached between the two of you to gather some of your slick on his other fingers. Still holding onto your throat and tightening his hold slightly, he brought the wet fingers to your lips. He coaxed them open, inserting his fingers into your mouth and pressing them against your tongue. You tasted yourself with a groan, and he fucked them into your mouth with a grin. “How about that?”

You hummed and nodded as best as you could in reply, and he briefly cut your air off before withdrawing his fingers and letting go of your throat. “Noted. You’ll have to tell me more about these fantasies of yours later. I’m deeply curious now.”

“I will,” you said, swivelling your hips for only a second before bouncing yourself on his cock again. “I promise I will.”

He took your hands then, placing them on your breasts. “Play with these for me.”

You do as he asked, massaging your breasts and tugging at your nipples. He just watched you, not taking his eyes from you for one moment. You ground your clit every time you came down, and Eddie soon got the hint. His thumb swiped at your clit, running circles over it as you rocked your hips at a desperately fast pace. He pulled you down for a hard, sloppy kiss, one that was full of moans and whimpers, both of you close to orgasm as you slammed yourself repeatedly onto his cock. Your wetness had gathered at the base, some of it dripping down his balls and onto the bed below. You sat up fully and Eddie followed, his mouth all over your chest as you embedded your hands within his hair.

“y/n,” he panted, moaning as you clenched around him. “Fucking shit…”

You pulled at his hair, hands burying deeper into the messy locks as his mouth continued exploring your chest. You slammed down as the sounds of sex filled the room, his hips bucking to meet yours while he quickly rubbed your clit. It didn’t take much longer for you to cum, and you clung to him as your hips stuttered and body spasmed, your head thrown back as you cried out his name. Your body felt supercharged from every orgasm you experienced already, and Eddie was chuckling against your neck as he kissed it.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, holding onto you while you whined from how sensitive everything felt. “That’s it, I’ve got you…”

Your hips kept moving, trying to help Eddie with his own climax. It came a lot sooner than you had anticipated; he twitched inside of you only seconds later, hot ropes of cum painting your walls. He moaned loudly, holding you tightly as he came, his head thrown back with a look of pure ecstasy written on his face. You mewled as you felt some of his cum dripping out of you, and you lifted your hips before he softened too much. You collapsed next to him, and he brought you into his arms as he kissed the top of your head. Both of you were breathless, sweaty, your cunt leaking his cum as his cock was drenched with your own. He felt so much like home against you, and you couldn’t help but grin as you lay your head upon his chest.

“Wow,” he panted with a chuckle. “That was fucking amazing.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” you asked, tracing one of his tattoos with your finger. “Is it bad to say that I’m really glad your practice got cancelled?”

“No, because I feel the same,” Eddie replied, tilting your chin so that you were looking at him. “y/n, this…this wasn’t just about sex to me. I mean…don’t get me wrong, it was so goddamn incredible, but...it was so much more to me than just that.”

“Really?” you asked, smiling as he nodded slowly, nervously. “It wasn’t just sex for me, either, if I’m being honest.”

That got his full attention, and his eyes widened. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously,” you said, giving him a tender kiss. “In fact, I wouldn’t be mad if we decided to be…maybe more than just friends.”

Eddie beamed at you, rolling you onto your back before hovering over you. “You wanna know something?”

“What?” you asked, fingers looping through his dangling necklace.

“I wouldn’t be mad, either,” he whispered, sealing your lips–and your seemingly upgraded relationship status–with a kiss.

_________________________________

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