Rough Sketch:
$10
Additional Character: +$5 each additional character
Line Art:
$20
Additional Character: +$10 each additional character
Flat Color:
$30
Additional Character: +$15 each additional character
Full Shading:
$40
Additional Character: +$20 each additional character
*Background*
Flat Color/Colored Shape/Gradient: Included (if you want to just leave the background blank just let me know!)
Heavily detailed background: +$25
*Payment: I accept Paypal: I will NOT start a commission until I have received full payment*
*Completion: 2-6 week turnaround time (unless otherwise stated - it honestly depends on how intricate the piece is/where you are in the queue/how busy I am with my main business). If you have a timeframe, I will TRY my best to work with you.*
*Questions: If you’re unsure or have any questions, don’t hesitate to DM me on Tumblr and we can talk!*
*I have the right to deny a request.*
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500 words: $7
800 words: $10
1,000 words: $12
1,500 words: $15
*Smut is an additional $5*
*Payment: I accept Paypal: I will NOT start a commission until I have received full payment*
*Completion: As we all know, I am a very slow writer. Depending on how busy I am with commissions and my business, it can take me up to 2 weeks to finish a writing commission (if otherwise stated). But I give you my word that it will be finished - just message me and I will be truthful and honest. *If for some reason I’m unable to fulfill a request after payment was received, I will refund.*
*I also reserve the right to decline any writing prompts that I am not comfortable with or feel as if I’d be unable to fully understand.*
Additional Information:
*Please read before ordering from me*
-Art Commissions:
*OC/Self ship/fursona: In order for me to get the commission correct, you must provide detailed pictures of OC/self/fursona and a little blurb about them/you. Pictures will not be shared by me in any way and will remain private between you (the client) and I.
*Poses: If you have any ideas of poses/etc, please provide me with references or I will do as I please.
*Cancellation Policy: 100% will be refunded IF I have not started on the commission. 50% will be refunded if I have already started the commission.
*Revisions: Only two (2) small revisions are included before the high resolution file is sent to your email. What does that mean? It means that I will make minor changes/adjustments to the digital painting but I will not redraw a completely different outfit, background, or pose. That’s why I do my best to communicate with the client regarding their wants before I even start the commission. It is up to the client to communicate their wants before I get started. *Please note: No revisions are included after the high resolution file is sent.*
-Writing Commissions:
*OC/Self ship: In order for me to get the commission correct, you must provide detailed descriptions of OC/self and a little blurb about them. What are their likes/dislikes? What do they look like and what are their pronouns? Do they have any distinguishing features? Just tell me anything that I might need to know about them in order for me to understand them.
*Contacting Me: You can DM me on tumblr or email me (email given upon request) with your idea/prompt and your preferred word count - I will then make sure that I will be able to complete your request.
Once approved by me, you can pay me on PayPal and I will then start writing.
When it comes to your ideas/prompts: Please be as specific as possible. The more specific you are, the easier it will be for me to write out your request! I want to make everyone happy here and the more info I get the better the product!
*Things to include when messaging me: fandom, pairing (if any), the general prompt, which characters you want focused on, characters or anything else you absolutely don’t want included, etc.
*Smut/Kinks: I will write smut between any two (or more) consenting adult characters (18+). There are very few kinks I won’t write so if you’re not sure, just ask.
*Cancellation Policy: 100% will be refunded IF I have not started on the commission. 50% will be refunded if I have already started the commission.
*Revisions: When finished, you can read over the fic and request the changes you would like made, if any. Up to 2 revisions are included - anything after that will be a $5 fee.
God, your blog is a TREASURE TROVE!!! So much amazing content for Beeblebuse, Dewey, even Jesse! Are you taking any requests or commissions?
Hi! Thank you so much for the question, sorry for the delay in response. Life has been a little chaotic as of late, and I’ve kinda lost all love for art and writing in general. But shoot me a request/commission idea if you’re ever curious and I might be able to dust off the cobwebs. Might just be the thing that I need. Thank you so much for the complement, I’m so glad that you enjoy 💕
As someone that has grown up surrounded by beaches and done surf life saving, I know how the sea works. Lots of people dont. Every summer multiple tourists die here because they don’t respect the sea, if you’re going to the coast, here’s a thing I saw on Facebook.
Eddie Munson x FemReader
Word Count: 10,878 - jfc I’m so sorry
Warnings: Angst, *eventual smut* (will be in part 2), porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fem reader, small amount of Steve x Reader if you squint/mentions of past fling with Steve, small use of (Y/N) - not a lot at all, your last name is “Barker” in this, follows the events of season 4, :gasp: and there was only one boathouse, exes to lovers, soft Eddie, mutual pining, awful use of a Billy Joel song, cursing, possible spelling/grammar errors (I’m an idiot, what can ya do. I’m not a writer, just thirsty) - more warnings will be added later.
–
Note: Well. I’m back on my bullshit where something that was supposed to just be a simple smut piece casually transforms into something much more complex and…fucking long. Woo. Don’t worry - hopefully the eventual porn is worth the heavy plot.
I rushed to get this done before July 1st, so hopefully it’s adequate haha. The second part will be written in between me getting shit done for my upcoming craft fair, so it’ll take time but it will get done - I’m actually holding myself accountable here and making me finish this haha! Anywhoooo hope you enjoy.
–
Eddie Munson x FemReader
Word Count: 10,878 - jfc I’m so sorry
Warnings: Angst, *eventual smut* (will be in part 2), porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fem reader, small amount of Steve x Reader if you squint/mentions of past fling with Steve, small use of (Y/N) - not a lot at all, your last name is “Barker” in this, follows the events of season 4, :gasp: and there was only one boathouse, exes to lovers, soft Eddie, mutual pining, awful use of a Billy Joel song, cursing, possible spelling/grammar errors (I’m an idiot, what can ya do. I’m not a writer, just thirsty) - more warnings will be added later.
--
Note: Well. I’m back on my bullshit where something that was supposed to just be a simple smut piece casually transforms into something much more complex and…fucking long. Woo. Don’t worry - hopefully the eventual porn is worth the heavy plot.
I rushed to get this done before July 1st, so hopefully it’s adequate haha. The second part will be written in between me getting shit done for my upcoming craft fair, so it’ll take time but it will get done - I’m actually holding myself accountable here and making me finish this haha! Anywhoooo hope you enjoy.
--
“Barker and Eddie were still going steady in the summer of ‘75”.
That’s what everyone in Hawkins would sing when seeing you and Eddie Munson together. It had first started during elementary school, when you became fast friends after being forced to sit near each other during social studies. Then the singing took on another meaning all together when Eddie and you began “dating” in middle school - if holding hands could actually be considered dating. Then the singing got much worse when you both actually began seriously dating during the summer going into freshman year of high school.
The song got old, very quickly. That song - with your surname placed into the song and the year changed, respectively - felt as if it were on a constant loop. It was such a regular occurrence that you often wondered if someone was paid to follow you around and randomly burst into that very specific song.
However, that was the past. Now? It was all silent.
After all…a break up could, ya know, completely derail a joke. Which was fine, considering the song got old very quick. And you liked Billy Joel, so you didn’t want to have any hard feelings towards the guy.
But, if you were being honest, you much preferred the song to the silence.
But Eddie had broken your heart a few years back. A high school breakup that happened senior year and left you feeling like a hole was punched directly where your heart had been. It was unexpected and seemingly came out of the blue; delivered upon a barrage of rambling words and sentences that made absolutely no sense.
And the excuses…
It had hurt. A deep kind of hurt that you weren’t sure you’d ever be able to recover from. After all, you guys had been together since middle school; a lifetime to some teens in Hawkins.
You had loved the guy, you had made plans with him, plans for the future that had always included the other. So, obviously, you were gutted when you found yourself Eddie-less. Years of building a surprisingly strong foundation were tossed aside as simply as if they meant nothing, memories and words - promises Eddie had spoken so ardently to you - were tarnished.
But Robin, your neighbor and who was easily your best friend, had been there to help ease you through the after effects of the breakup. Calling herself the Laverne to your Shirley, Robin took her job very seriously; even socking classmate Clyde Bushmann (aka the Walking Void) in the jaw when he started, not so kindly, singing the Billy Joel song in hopes to make you cry.
The dunderhead had been momentarily successful in his plight. The painful reminder causing you to bristle at the familiar prickle of tears. But, before a tear could escape and roll down your cheek, you jumped as Clyde Bushmann roughly landed upon the gravel. A fresh cut adorned his cheek bone, looking pretty nasty and already a little bruised. Robin stood over him, shaking from anger and adrenaline; watching as he stared up at her from the ground - too stunned to move or speak.
The punch, of course, was over kill and Robin’s two day suspension was not worth it. Nor was her bruised knuckle. But the fact that it made everyone leave you alone after the breakup was worth it. At least that’s what you told yourself anyway.
But, as they say, time heals all wounds.
You graduated. Eddie did not. You finished your first year at college with barely any hiccups. Eddie got held back another year. During the time away from Hawkins, the hole that Eddie had left in your chest had healed; filled in by causal dates, meaningless hookups and good old fashioned time.
It wasn’t long before the memories of Eddie - your first love, his Shieldmaiden of Rohan - had all but morphed into a small moment in the grand scheme of your life.
Eddie had been great, time with him and the experiences were some of the best you’d ever had. You’d always cherish them in some way, but time away from Hawkins had helped immensely.
You might’ve forgotten about Eddie and the emotional damage that he had done more than two years ago, but you still kept the guitar pick he had given to you after they won Battle of the Bands during Freshman year. The pick was neon yellow with Corroded Coffin’s logo drawn upon the plastic, and nestled safely within your wallet.
You might not be together anymore and you might have forgotten about him, but you never could bring yourself to throw it away.
Besides, you were convinced that it was lucky - Eddie had thought so too. So no way would you be letting go of “Lucky”, the guitar pick. You were, after all, a little superstitious that way.
So life marched on. Where once you both were on the same path, it was now abruptly split. You going in one direction while Eddie went off in another. Life was full of unexpected twists and turns, you were finding out. It definitely was unpredictable and a bit scary. And yet, life was also funny sometimes.
It was funny that your parents had asked you to come home during your spring break in order to house sit for them.
It was funny since your parents never went anywhere. But you decided that you hadn’t been home to Hawkins in awhile and were in desperate need of quiet time and Robin time.
And it was super duper funny when, right before you decided on which TV dinner to choose from the freezer, there was a frantic knock on the door.
—
“Is Eddie here?!”
“Have you heard from Eddie?”
“Has Eddie been around at all?”
“Hi.”
You hadn’t even opened the door fully before you were bombarded by frantic voices, all filled with some level of anxiety and stress. They came in such quick succession that it all sounded like a jumbled mess to your already fried brain - the last semester had been a particularly hard one, and your brain was still recovering from the lack of sleep.
With your brain beginning to whir back to life, you blinked dumbly down at the faces of the four people standing upon your parents porch. You recognized Dustin Henderson and Max Mayfield from Family Video. Of course you knew Robin…and then there was Steve Harrington.
As your eyes slid over to meet Steve’s - who had been the one to simply say “Hi.” when you had first opened the door - he gave a tentative wave and a hesitant grin that nearly looked pained.
Guess Steve was still feeling a bit bad about ghosting you after last summers fling.
Well, shit.
Holding the door open, you replied with a tired huff. “Hello to you all too.”
“Has-“
“Barker-“
“We’re-“
“We-“
But with a wave of the hand, you pleaded. “My kingdom for a horse! One at a time. Please.”
Dustin, who was nearly bouncing out of his shoes, instantly spoke up before anyone else had a chance.
“We’re looking for Eddie. Eddie Munson. Have you seen him?” He asked, voice a frantic rush.
At the mention of your ex, your eyes instantly shifted to curiously glance over at Robin. She looked sympathetic that you were being asked such a question, throwing you a forced lopsided smirk that was more of a pained grimace than anything pleasant. You squinted suspiciously, shaking your head while turning back to Dustin. “No. I’m sorry but I haven’t seen him.”
Dustin released a long winded groan towards the porch awning, rapping his knuckles upon the door frame in frustration. Even the others seemed to sag in defeat at your response. You furrowed your brow, curious and confused by the groups disappointed reaction to something so small.
In all honesty, you were unsure why you not seeing the person who unexpectedly dumped you more than two years ago would gain such a solemn response.
“Do you have any idea where he might be?” Max inquired, blue eyes wide and sounding slightly hopeful.
“Maybe a safe house? Or a place that he could…possibly…ya know…lay low?” Robin hedged, flinching as she watched the expression of concern pinch your face at the strange choice of words.
“Safe house? Lay low?” You repeated, straightening as your expression turned serious. Crossing your arms, you stared at each of them more closely. But their stressed and fearful expressions only added to your growing concern. With a sinking feeling in your gut, you asked. “Is Eddie…in trouble?”
The shifty looks passed between the foursome on your parents porch was enough to cause your stomach to drop. But, before your frazzled brain could settle upon a question - the group all seemingly glanced around your frame and into your parents house.
Looking over your shoulder, your eyes instantly found the screen of the television. It was set to the local news channel where the Hawkins chief of police was conducting an interview about the murdered high school student.
“-the suspect is still at large so, please, follow the curfew-”
Swallowing thickly, and feeling the blood swiftly drain from your face, you slowly turned around. It all suddenly made sense.
Eddie…
Regarding the group with wide eyes, you hesitantly stammered. “You don’t, you don’t think Eddie had something to do with this? Right?”
The group looked unsure of how to proceed, awkwardly shifting and glancing away from your panicked gaze. Words that were coming so easily moments before were suddenly scarce. Their silence began to gnaw at you, made worse by the pounding thrum of your quickening heart.
But, before you could completely lose your mind and lash out for answers, Robin tentatively stepped forward and gently said. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out, Shirley.”
Murder. Eddie was a suspect for murder. Your stomach felt like led and, for some fucking reason, tears began to fill your eyes. Murder. Eddie - your Eddie - was wanted for murder.
Instantly you shook your head, running your hands anxiously along your arms as you began to hysterically babble. “There’s…no. No way. No. No. No way Eddie could’ve done this. He wouldn’t hurt anyone. He’s not a violent person at all.”
“Exactly!” Dustin instantly exclaimed, throwing his hands out towards you as if you just solidified his stance - all while completely ignorant to the fact that you were very close to hyperventilating and very, very stressed.
Robin, who had began rubbing at your shoulder, began to quickly explain. “Chrissy was dating Jason, the captain of the basketball team. Him and a bunch of his friends are out looking for Eddie.”
“Jason…the…the fucking D-bag?” You wheezed while chewing anxiously on the nail of your thumb. Robin squeezed your shoulder, feeling your whole body tense beneath her hand at the news. “The good ol’ boy that even I wanted to pop in the face when he was a freshman?”
He’s being hunted…for murder…Eddie couldn’t have. He couldn’t. He didn’t. If they find him…who knows what they’ll do.
Steve snorted, amused despite the situation, and nodded. “Yeah. That D-bag.“
“He wasn’t at Reefer Ricks?” You asked against your knuckle once your thumb nail had been chewed down to the skin. As Robin’s hand stilled, you glanced up at the group only to find them looking at each other in confusion. Eyes growing wide, you slowly inquired. “You guys haven’t checked Reefer Ricks?”
“Who?”
“Who the hell is-“
Shushing both Dustin and Max, Steve stepped around the young teens and asked. “Where does Reefer Rick live?”
But you were already rushing back into your parents house, calling over your shoulder as you frantically ran towards the hall closet. Shoving a purple sweater over your gray camisole, your muffled voice came out in a frantic rush. “Hold on! Let me grab my wallet and shoes. I’m coming with you guys.”
“Barker, no way.” Alarmed, Steve briskly brushed passed Robin and followed you into the house; glaring daggers into the back of your head as it popped out of the neck hole. The others were quick to follow close behind, watching as Steve stood over you while you shoved a foot into a pair of worn hiking boots. Placing his hands on his trim hips, Steve simply stated. “No.”
He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the word. A simple, yet firm, no. If you were in any other situation you might’ve laughed. But your mind was filled with a face you hadn’t thought of or seen in over two years. Mind calling out a name you hadn’t thought about in a really long time.
Eddie. Eddie couldn’t have. He didn’t.
“Okay, dad.” You snorted shortly, grunting as your other foot finally slid into place.
You had to find him. You had to make sure he was okay. You had to protect him and keep him safe.
You needed to find Eddie.
Robin, kneeling next to you as you began to frantically lace up your boots, began to advise. “You have to stay here. This could be dangerous-“
Boots successfully tied, you quickly rose from the floor and walked passed a statuesque Steve, a concerned Robin and the two younger teens. Apparently you had on a face that read ‘no nonsense' because Dustin and Max essentially flung themselves back against the wall in order to get out of your way.
Entering the kitchen, you grabbed for your wallet while retorting. “Can’t be that dangerous if Steve is going.”
The foursome quickly entered the kitchen and watched as you shoved your wallet into your jean pocket. Steve visibly winced at the comment, scowling.
“Ouch. Okay. Retract the claws, thanks.” Steve muttered dryly, eyes rolling towards the ceiling as you wildly searched through the kitchen cabinets. He sighed roughly through his nose before glancing over at Robin - who helplessly shook her head and shrugged a shoulder - before wandering over to your side. Pausing to watch you completely tear apart a cabinet, he firmly stated. “Just tell us where this Reefer Rick lives and forget that we were even here because you aren’t coming. It’s not safe.”
Pulling out a large flashlight, and only after checking to see that it still worked, you abruptly stood. Turning to face Steve with an irked huff, you found yourself incredibly close to his chest but refused to even acknowledge the proximity.
He’s being hunted…for murder…Eddie couldn’t have. He didn’t. I have to find him.
“I’m coming.” You smiled up at him, something saccharine sweet.
But Steve didn’t budge. “No. You’re not.”
“Yes, I’m coming.” You stressed, resolute.
“No. You’re not.” Steve stressed, resolute.
“Listen. Do any of you know where Reefer Rick lives?” You challenged the group with wide eyes and pursed lips, watching as they all shook their heads or pointedly glanced away. Firmly, you peered up at Steve and continued. “Okay. Well I do. So, naturally, I’m coming.”
But Steve was quick to counter.
“We can look him up in the system back at Family Video. He’s a stoner, right? Stoners like movies. Boom. Reefer Rick’ll be in the system.” His casual rebuttal was confident, gaining many dubious glances from the group as he added flippantly. “Easy peasy.”
Undeterred, and seeing through the carefree guise, you narrowed your eyes up at him. You were frustrated and scared. Frustrated that Steve wanted to keep you out of the loop and out of danger like some god damn princess. Scared that you wouldn’t find Eddie before an apparent blood thirsty mob did.
But you weren’t a princess like Princess Peach, who constantly got into trouble and just waited for help. No. You were like Éowyn - a shieldmaiden - and you would willingly ride into battle with the rest of the warriors.
All you had to do was convince Steve.
“Yeah but that’ll take time. Time that you, and Eddie, don’t have. Besides. If looking him up in the system is so easy, why didn’t you guys do that in the first place?” You stressed, watching as the hard line of Steve’s mouth slowly began to pull into a frown.
You were right, and - from his torn expression - Steve knew it too.
“Maybe we should let (Y/N) come with us.” Robin hesitantly approached the pair, observing her two best friends essentially stare each other down. Clearly uncomfortable with the tension, she began to wring her hands. “She can help-“
“It’s too dangerous.” Steve muttered, but his words didn’t hold the stern tone that it did moments ago. Only concern. “You can get hurt, Barker.”
“I can get hurt anywhere, Steve.” You smoothly countered, feeling three pairs of eyes volleying between you and Steve. Desperation making your words come out in a rushed whisper, you added. “The longer we sit here and you fight me on this…the closer Jason fucking Carver could be to finding Eddie before we do.”
Steve shifted on the balls of his feet, growing uncomfortable beneath your pleading stare. Ducking his head, Steve began to silently shake his head while staring down at the linoleum floor.
The silence within the kitchen was deafening, broken only by Dustin’s loud and anxious gulp.
“Now. Please, Steve. I may not be asking for your permission…but I am asking you to accept that I am coming with you guys.” You firmly and slowly whispered, causing Steve’s eyes to snap away from the floor in order to become fixed upon your face. Growing more and more distressed with each passing second, you watched as Steve’s hard stare began to soften as he took in your fearful expression. Finally, you softly pleaded. “Please, Steve.”
Steve was silent for a long moment, the impassioned whisper of his name hanging in the air between you both. Your eyes, shimmering and wide, stared imploringly up at Steve; trying your hardest to make him understand. To make him see that you were integral and that you could help them find Eddie.
You had to find him. You had to find Eddie.
After a long moment of tense silence…
Sighing roughly through his nose, Steve bowed his head in obvious defeat. Huffing a humorless laugh, his voice was soft as he muttered. “Saddle up, Barker. Let’s go.”
The group seemed to all sag in relief at his words.
Releasing the tense breath you had been holding, you smiled up at him in genuine gratitude. “Thank you.”
“Oh, she’s good.” Dustin, absolutely stunned, watched as you gently placed your hand upon Steve’s forearm. Your touch lingered, squeezing his arm before turning to rush down the hallway. Dustin watched as Steve, who became flustered beneath such a simple touch, looked after you with a thin lipped smirk. Looking torn. “Oh. She’s very good.”
Max, incredulous, was looking after you like you were her new hero. “I mentally took notes.”
—
On the outside, Reefer Ricks property lay abandoned. As if nobody had been around in quiet some time. But when Max had spotted a boathouse in the back of the property…with a large lamp hanging above a door, which was slightly ajar…you all knew that it was anything but.
As Robin tentatively pushed open the door and took a careful step inside, the boathouse seemingly creaked and groaned. The group carefully entered after Robin but, before you could slip through the door after Dustin, your attention was caught by something near the waters edge.
Gingerly, you crept away from the door and slowly made your way towards the water, flashlight held tightly within your grip. Whatever it was, the gleam from your flashlight caused it to glint and shine.
Kneeling down, you were careful not to touch it as you brought the light closer; feeling jittery at the prospect of possibly finding a clue-
It was a fucking bottle cap from a beer.
“Jesus Christ.” Exhaling through your nose, you closed your eyes in frustration. “Here I am acting like the next Sherl-“
You were startled by a large crash that came from within the boathouse, followed swiftly by some muffled voices. Cursing, and assuming the absolute worst, you rose and swiftly ran towards the door.
“-the one who never wants to play D&D.”
Flinging the door open in a panic, your grand arrival was accompanied by the sound of the tin door squeaking shrilly on its rusted hinges.
And then, all eyes were suddenly on you.
Standing within the doorway, your chest jumped with each quick breath as your eyes frantically assessed the situation. Looking tense, Robin and Max stood behind Dustin…while Steve was being held roughly up against the wall by…
“Eddie.”
The name slipped passed your lips before you could help yourself, a whisper that was uttered so softly but held so much relief.
You had found him. Eddie was safe.
Jumpy, Eddie whipped his attention away from Steve and towards the door; his guarded glare widened once his eyes settled upon you.
You felt frozen, almost like a spotlight had been placed upon you; captured and ensnared by the intensity of his panicked stare.
Even within the shadows of the boathouse, you could see that an ember of surprised recognition began to flicker within Eddie’s dark gaze. Eyelid twitching, his gaze erratically moved across your face and figure, causing his already furrowed brow to deepen as he tilted his head.
You nearly sighed, relieved that Eddie was safe. But then you noticed the broken beer bottle held within his quivering grip, the jagged glass poised dangerously close to Steve’s exposed throat.
“You know her, right? That’s (Y/N), Eddie.” Dustin, who was quick to use your arrival to their advantage, wildly gestured back at you. For emphasis, he added pointedly. “Remember? Your Shieldmaiden?”
You blanched, skin prickling slightly at hearing the special nickname Eddie had given you so many years ago. A nickname you hadn’t heard in a very, very long time.
How the hell does Dustin know about that?
Eddie, holding your gaze, stilled at the mention of Shieldmaiden and…it’s as if something within his brain finally clicked. His once tight jaw grew slack, mouth popping open in a soundless gasp. His already clammy skin grew pale, staring at you as if you were a ghost.
“B-Barker?” Eddie stammered, incredulous.
With a breathless chuckle, you nodded while sending him a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Eds.”
His response to your presence was instantaneous.
Body trembling, a pained sound came from the back of Eddie’s throat as he released Steve from his rough grip. The group collectively sighed in relief as Steve rushed forward, all while Eddie robotically turned to press his back against the wall.
Gently closing the door to the boathouse, you rushed forward. Briefly pausing next to Steve, you gently touched his shoulder and asked. “Are you alright?”
Steve, leaning heavily against a wooden chair while gingerly prodding at his throat, briefly nodded his head up at you while panting.
Satisfied, you left Robin and Max to tend to Steve while turning your attention back to Eddie. Catatonically, his movements were slow as he slid down the wall; slumping into a low crouch. Mouth moving soundlessly, tears began to form within his unseeing eyes; causing his wide gaze to shine in the darkness. Eddie’s whole body shook, trembling like a brittle leaf desperately trying to hold onto the branch. He didn’t acknowledge Dustins approach, only able to blindly stare off to the side.
Dustin, cautiously squatting directly in front of Eddie, slowly cooed. “Eddie. We just wanna talk.”
Slowly, you neared Eddie’s hunched form while eyeing the broken bottle apprehensively. It shook within his trembling hand, the jagged edges glinting harshly as you gingerly crouched beside Dustin.
Dustin must’ve also been cautiously eyeing the crude weapon because he carefully reached forward. But, as Dustin’s fingers touched the neck of the bottle, Eddie unexpectedly tensed and flinched; breath hitching as he protectively pulled the bottle away from Dustin’s seeking fingers. The group tensed at the movement, shifting uneasily; but Dustin quickly held up his hand to settle them.
“Okay. Okay.” Appeasingly, Dustin retracted his hand before abruptly turning to you.
Frowning, you watched as Dustin began to gesture towards Eddie with his head. It started off discreetly - just a small shift of the eyes in Eddie’s direction - until he grew impatient and began to gesture wildly with his chin.
Sputtering, you shifted uncomfortably after being put on the spot. Shit. What the hell were you even supposed to even say? Hey, Ed, sorry about the whole murder thing - you doing alright? What the hell should you say to help? What did Eddie need to hear?
Licking your extremely dry lips, you gently breathed. “It’s okay, Eddie. We’re here to help.”
Eddie’s hunched figure froze at the sound of your voice, slowly shifting to look at you from around the strands of his unruly hair. You blanched - heart aching - as his big, puppy dog eyes met yours; unprepared to be met with such a defeated state.
Automatically, you felt the need to reach out. To hold him close and to give him some much needed comfort, like you had done so many times in the past. Knowing that Eddie’s love language was physical touch, your body cried out in desperation to offer him what he needed. However, as much as it pained you…you refrained.
But your heart nearly shattered when Eddie whispered your name, sounding so small.
Christ, you had seen Eddie scared countless times throughout the years. He liked to talk a big game, but the guy wore his emotions on his sleeve and was so wound up. Jumpy. This was the same guy who made a show of protecting you while walking through a haunted corn maze…only to jump wildly once a masked performer inevitable popped out. You had seen him absolutely terrified only once. And that was when you both realized, too late, that the condom had broke…and then, of course, your period came late.
But this? This wide eyed stare that held so much fear and hopelessness?
This was much different.
“I swear.” Eddie stammered, voice tight as he whispered your name like a prayer. He shakily reached for you with his free hand as he continued to frantically babble. “I fucking swear I - I didn’t. I c-could never. I didn’t-“
Fuck it.
You took his hand and, god, Eddie clung to you like you were oxygen. Ignoring the fact that your heart jumped and your stomach jolted at the familiar touch, you couldn’t help but notice that he was violently trembling. Clammy fingers, with small callouses forming from consistent guitar strumming, promptly engulfed your palm; fiercely holding onto you.
Eddie’s grip was much too tight and a bit rough. But you didn’t pull away, if anything you held his hand just as tight.
“We know.” You softly consoled, watching as Eddie clamped his eyes tightly shut at your gentle coo. He roughly exhaled through his nose, a shaky sound that nearly turned into a sob. “We know that you didn’t do this.”
“I didn’t.” Eddie muttered, sounding like he was in utter agony. “I didn’t do it.”
Leaning forward, you squeezed his hand and firmly said. “I know.”
Your reassurance and faith was like a gift from the heavens, it seemed. Eddie sniffed, tears swiftly rolling down his cheeks - and you had to stop yourself from reaching out to brush them away.
Robin, who had come to crouch behind you, added. “We wanna know what happened.”
But Eddie quickly shook his head, looking exhausted and so incredibly lost. Glancing at your best friend, he sounded doubtful. “You won’t believe me.”
But Max urged. “Try us.”
—
Turns out monsters were real, super powers were real…and so were alternate dimensions.
Huh.
As a big fan of fantasy and sci-fi, you were incredibly intrigued. But…as a fan of…not dying, you found it all to be a bit…much.
So - preferring to spend your time watching over an ex boyfriend instead of fighting monsters, apparently - you volunteered to stay behind with Eddie at the boathouse. The rest of the team didn’t shame you for your decision. If anything, they completely understood since you were incredibly unprepared to deal with something as big as…Vecna.
So. Armed with a pocket knife - given to you by Steve as he whispered “Ya know. Just in case.” - and a promise that they’d be back with food in the morning - you watched as they all clambered into Steve’s car and drove away.
Standing outside of the boathouse, listening to the water lap gently against the surrounding docks, you couldn’t help the sense of foreboding that was causing your stomach to churn. You - alone and feeling very…unsure and, maybe, in over your head - couldn’t help but wonder if you had made the right decision in staying behind.
But, as you quietly entered the boathouse and found the figure of Eddie…you couldn’t fully explain it, but you felt as if you had made the right choice. Eddie might have been your ex, but he had been your best friend first and he absolutely needed your help.
As if sensing your presence within the door frame, Eddie glanced away from the boat he had been getting into and froze beneath your stare. With one foot on the floor and the other in the boat, Eddie’s gaze widened; looking slightly panicked at finding you standing there.
“I…you…you’re here.” Eddie choked, sounding surprised and horrified all at once.
Despite your nerves and the awkwardness of the situation, you couldn’t help but huff out a brief laugh.
“Um, yeah. I realized that maybe I wasn’t cut out for fighting…monsters.” You sheepishly explained, anxiously smoothing your hands along the outside of your jean clad thighs. Nerves had your gaze flitting around the boathouse, which caused you to completely miss how Eddie’s eyes distractedly tracked the progression of your hands. Clearing your throat, you shrugged up a shoulder and glanced towards your ex…who was still awkwardly straddling the boat. “But, I’d still like to help. So. Here I am.”
Eddie, snapping his gaze away from your thighs, quickly spoke up.
“You don’t, ya know, have to. I know you probably have much more important things to do than babysit little ol’ banished me.” He quickly rambled with a bravado that you were used to, gesturing broadly to the boathouse. With a sarcastic raspberry, he casually shrugged off your concern. “I’m fi-“
As Eddie put too much weight on one foot, the boat dipped unexpectedly. You watched in mild concern as he stumbled forward with a strained grunt, boat swinging wildly upon the chains holding it above the water. It took a moment for the boat to still, but once it stopped its violent swinging, only then did Eddie and you both release tense exhales.
Spitting strands of dark hair from his mouth, Eddie slowly turned to smile at you sweetly. “I’m fine.”
“Oh, I can see that.” You smirk, tickled by the condescension you found within his smile and his antics. It was something that you couldn’t help - be amused by him. After all, you always were when it came to him. Shrugging, you kindly added. “But I don’t mind.”
Making sure that the door was securely shut, you casually walked forward until you reached the end of the dock. Absentmindedly, your fingers gently ran along the raised end of the boat. Your gaze rose to observe Eddie through your lashes, watching as he came to settle upon a nest made up of blankets, life preservers and a blue tarp.
“But, if you’re fine.” Meeting his eye from across the boat, you mock-frowned while gesturing towards the door that you had just closed. “I’ll just get goin-”
But Eddie was quick to stop you.
“No, no, no!” Frantically, he shot to his feet. Holding his hands out as the boat swayed precariously upon its chains, nerves had Eddie tripping over his words as he stammered. “No, wait. Please, you’re fine. I, shit, I. No, no, no-“
But then Eddie paused in his little freak out, the string of “no’s” petering off as he finally registering the slight teasing look you were sending his way. Slowly, he quirked his head as a lazy, lopsided grin pulled up one corner of his mouth. With a snort, his shy gaze briefly rolled to his feet. After a moment, and with a dramatic flourish, Eddie grandly bowed.
“Your company is most appreciated, my lady.” He drawled, bent low at the waist. “You’re more than welcome to spend time at Castle Munson. Sadly, I can not offer you refreshments. For the lord of the castle has, embarrassingly, eaten it all.”
Despite yourself, you chuckled at his sheepish admission. “Tell Lord Munson that it is fine. I ate before coming here anyway.”
That was a lie, you were absolutely starving. But, fuck, did your chest nearly burst at the sight of his fucking dimples.
As Eddie straightened, grin broadening, you couldn’t help but finally take in the guy you hadn’t seen in such a long time.
Standing precariously within the boat, Eddie Munson had grown so much but had also remained the same in so many ways. His features had matured, with a jawline that was dappled in stubble and much more defined. Sharper, even. His hair was much longer now, shaggy and erratic; cropped short in the front so some curls kissed his forehead.
Any lingering baby fat that had been on his frame years ago had all but disappeared. Eddie looked a bit taller, but you honestly couldn’t really be too sure, and more lithe in frame. Black jeans, ripped at the knees, were nearly tight enough to show off the shape of his thighs while the white Hellfire Club shirt that he wore was fitted enough to show off his lean torso. Beneath leather and denim, there was still a softness to Eddie’s frame; muscle encased in pliable flesh.
The silver rings that he wore looked new, along with the chain around his wrist and the one dangling from his belt loops. The thought of him accessorizing was actually super cute.
But Eddie’s eyes and lips. Fuck. The puppy dog eyes and something akin to a demure grin upon his plump lips remained the same. The natural smirk that his lips always seemed to be in was coquettish, teasing. With a constant impish sparkle to his eyes that had your heart sputtering.
Tragically enough, Eddie Munson was still fucking hot.
You almost groan audibly in frustration.
Even after all of this time, your body still had a reaction to his presence. It was something so primal that you didn’t even know how to begin to squash it.
It was dumb, but you found yourself wondering if Eddie felt something similar too.
But your thoughts were interrupted by Eddie as he plopped himself down into the boat. Leaning back against the metal seat with a tired grunt, he languidly rested a scuffed up Reebok upon the boats edge. Eyes everywhere but your face, Eddie instantly grabbed for a section of his hair; promptly hiding his mouth behind the dark strands. It was a nervous habit, you recognized; causing your guts to feel as if they were full of lead.
God, this situation…everything was just so screwed up.
Following his example, you settled down upon a wooden crate; which allowed for a unhindered view out the front window. A heavy silence quickly settled over the two of you, something thick and heavy and constricting - making you want to choke and run out the door.
It was uncomfortable. It was awkward. It was tense. And Eddie must’ve felt it too because he looked ready to bolt just as much as you did.
Rubbing your hands together, you anxiously look out the filthy glass of the window in order to stare up at the road. Luckily, it was late; which meant that there wouldn’t be a lot of traffic. Hopefully, you prayed, it stayed that way.
You tried to remain optimistic and calm, but you knew that it was only a matter of time before someone else figured out Eddie’s connection to Reefer Rick. Even though you had to commend Eddie for choosing such an obscure place to hide, you also knew that the chance of someone coming to sniff around was inevitable.
But, again, you tried your hardest to remain confident that it would take them - the cops and the fringe group of Hawkins teens - awhile to make the connection. That when they eventually did, you and Eddie will have already split from the boathouse - or the group would have figured it all out by then.
But you’re not entirely sure how much luck you both had left at that point.
Turning away from the window with a soft sigh, you cast what you hoped was a very sneaky and covert glance back towards Eddie….
….but your heart nearly jumped up your throat as you found yourself captured beneath a curious stare.
Fuck.
You both freeze as you catch each other trying to steal a glance, abruptly turning away in perfect unison. The uncomfortable heat that touched your cheeks matched the embarrassed flush that colored his own, causing you to become restless upon the crate.
Damn it. You internally chastise yourself for being a weak minded idiot. Remember when you hadn’t thought about him in years? Remember how you didn’t care anymore about Eddie fucking Munson?
Well. To be fair, that was before you found out that Eddie was wanted for murder while also being wrongfully hunted by a pack of teens, led by a person that’s thirsty for blood and revenge. So, of course you’d feel compassion, concern and empathy for Eddie.
But what frustrated you was how your body seemingly craved to be near him. Even at that moment, as your eyes caught sight of Eddie’s reflection in the glass of the window. Your gut twisted and your heart quivered as your gaze traveled along the gentle swoop of his nose and along the plump curve of his lips.
Even after all of this time, you were still attracted to Eddie fucking Munson.
Okay. We still find him attractive. This is definitely not ideal, but we gotta keep our head on straight. You tore your attention away from your ex’s reflection and stared pointedly at your own. Eddie needs help. And you’re here to make sure he stays safe while everyone else is out fighting…Vecna.
Eddie, unable to handle the silence and tension, awkwardly cleared his throat. Slightly startled by the sound, you rip your attention away from your own reflection - and out of the stern conversation you were having in your head - and turn to look at your ex.
“So, um. You.” He slowly began, stammering into his hair and looking a bit sheepish at having found himself beneath your gaze. “You…how are…how’s…mom and dad?”
“Oh, fine. I’m actually house sitting for them.” Your response was casual, but you hated that your voice quivered with nerves.
“They actually went somewhere?” Flinging his hair away from his mouth, Eddie incredulously raised his brow. “The world is ending.”
You snorted at his stunned expression, the tension instantly leaving your shoulders when hearing his boyish chuckle. The tension was seemingly broken, all thanks to the fact that your parents were homebodies and rarely went anywhere.
Who would’ve thought?
“Yup. They went on vacation, the end of days is upon us.” You playfully jest while absentmindedly picking at a lose thread at the end of your sweater. “How’s your uncle?”
“Doing good. Still at the plant, ya know, making the big bucks.” Eddie hummed, knocking his knuckles against the seat of the boat. Pursing his lips, he lightly added. “He asks about you a lot.”
Surprised, you bowed your head; hopeful that you hid the fire that began to heat your cheeks. “Oh.”
Realization had Eddie paling at the admission, throat bobbing as he audibly swallowed. Looking like a fish, his lips part…but nothing came out. Nervously, Eddie licked his lips; thinking. But, after a brief pause, his eyes brightened.
“Oh, you know. Not, like, a lot a lot. Ya know?” Eddie calmly played off his comment, anxiously twirling his rings around his nimble fingers. “He, uh, he really liked the baked stuff that you’d bring over.”
Your heart clenched at the memory. Momentarily, you were transported back to your parents kitchen; hovering over whatever baked good you were planning to present to Eddie and his uncle Wayne.
Uncle Wayne had always been good to you in his own way. He was a man of little words, but he cared greatly for his nephew and worked hard to provide for Eddie when his parents unexpectedly left him behind. Which is why you felt the need to provide some sort of gratitude for Wayne’s presence in Eddie’s life.
And it came in the form of baked goods.
“Really?” Head snapping up, you sounded hopeful that your efforts were actually appreciated.
Eddie grinned, energetically rambling. “Oh, yeah. We’re convinced that you put something in them to make them taste extra good. Like cocaine or somethin’. You were really good, at baking.”
Heat instantly crept up your cheeks, causing you to shyly bow your head as you became frazzled by the praise.
Quickly, before you could lose your nerve, you tittered. “Damn. You guys discovered my secret ingredient. It was cocaine.”
As Eddie watched you squirm, his lazy grin grew impossibly wider.
“Knew it. Explains a lot.” He hummed, hand hovering over his mouth; casually grazing his bottom lip with his thumb. Flippantly, he added. “I’m sure your parents don’t ask about me.”
“Definitely not.” You released a huff, shaking your head while gesturing between the two of you. “They were thrilled about the whole…ya know. Thing.”
Even though Eddie chuckled at your words and your flailing, you still couldn’t help but visibly wince at the way it came out.
“Ouch.” He said through a good-natured chuckle.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. But, don’t take it too personally.” You soothed, leaning forward as you began to explain. “That’s what happens when the only daughter of two rabid Republicans dates a nerdy metal head, ya know?”
Eddie was quick to wave you off, the impish quirk to his lips making it obvious that he remained unbothered.
“Nah, I get it.” Slyly, he asked through playfully squinted eyes. “They afraid that I corrupted you?”
Your responding smirk was just as devilish. “Extremely.“
You stare at each other, both bright eyed and smiling. In that moment, it was as if everything was normal. But, unfortunately, this wasn’t fantasy where everything worked out according to plan. This was reality.
As headlights from a passing car flash through the window, causing you both to flinch and tense, you remembered that your situation was anything but normal. As the boathouse was briefly lit by the headlights, Eddie swiftly covered himself with the tarp while you pressed yourself up against the wall, hopeful to remain unseen.
Cautiously, you peaked out the window and released a sigh of relief as the car continued on its way. Heart beating furiously from adrenaline, you said. “Coast is clear, Eds. We’re good.”
Cautiously, Eddie slowly removed the tarp and sat up. Keeping the tarp clutched tightly within his fist, Eddie exhaled forcefully through his nose. Looking tense, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his free pointer and thumb. “I really wish that you hadn’t stayed.”
Bristling slightly, you couldn’t help but grow defensive. “I’m just as capable as Robin and, most importantly, Steve.”
But frustration had Eddie quickly waving you off, causing you to remain silent while you patiently waited for him to gather his thoughts.
“No, I mean. If they find me…they could hurt you.” Chewing anxiously on his thumb, he blankly stared out the grimy window; watching for another car to pass. Softening, he turned back to you and added. “I want you as far from me as possible. I’d send you to the moon if I could.”
Honestly, after dealing with Steve’s macho man bullshit…you were getting tired of being treated like some damsel in distress. You were getting your bachelors degree, for fuck’s sake.
“I can’t breath in space. I would die.” You brushed off his concern, keeping your face neutral as you sarcastically replied. Eddie snorted, smirking down at his lap while shaking his head. Sobering, you sent him a sympathetic grin and said. ”I’m really sorry that you’re caught up in this, Eds.”
He nodded, mouth pursed. Flicking a piece of debris from his jeans, he anxiously muttered. “What will you do if they find me?”
Your resolute reply was instantaneous.
“Then we both run. Together.” The determination within your voice had Eddie shifting his gaze away from his lap and back over at you. Visibly concerned by your answer, his brow wrinkled as he squared his jaw; silently taking in your fixed expression. After a moment, you softened; sending him a gentle smile while nodding towards the tarp that was still clutched tightly within his grip. “Get some rest, Eds. I’ll keep watch.”
Eddie paused, looking as if he wanted to say more. But, releasing a heavy sigh, he simply nodded before covering himself with the tarp.
-
You nodded off for the briefest of moments. Dreaming of rolling hills. Of a wizard and a Shieldmaiden, traveling along a road that became more and more perilous the further they traveled.
You dreamt of dungeons, searching for treasure while encountering beasts of various sizes and shapes. Of the wizard sacrificing himself in order to-
That was until Eddie burst violently from beneath the tarp, tossing it aside like he had a vendetta against it.
You jolted awake at the cacophony of sound and movement, heart nearly bursting out of your chest as Eddie vaulted from the boat. With a startled grunt, your hands automatically flew into tight fists as you stumbled off of the crate - ready to fight whomever had decided to ambush you both.
But as your vision cleared, you realize that you and Eddie were, in fact, alone. Adrenaline still pumping, you watched as Eddie pressed his face tightly up against the grimy glass. Eyes fearfully scanning the surrounding area for intruders, his breath came in quick bursts; causing the glass to fog.
And, fuck, the broken glass bottle was back.
Throwing your hands down with a groan, you tightly admonished. “Jesus, Ed. You can’t keep doing this to me”.
This is, what? The third time he has done this? You groan, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. But can ya really blame him?
Eddie whipped around with an audible gasp, but instantly relaxed once he spotted you. He exhaled forcefully through his nose and closed his eyes, trying his hardest to compose himself. Snapping his eyes open, he regarded you sheepishly.
“Fuck. I’m sorry, I just can’t calm down. I’m so fucking tense.” He rambled, swiftly jumping up in order to begin restlessly pacing the floor. But then he abruptly paused to look down at his left hand, wincing. “Ow.”
You furrowed your brow in concern, especially when you spot a small drop of crimson making it’s way down the palm of Eddie’s hand. Realizing that he had probably nicked himself with the jagged glass when flinging himself from the boat, you promptly moved forward.
Reaching for him, you hissed. “Shit, Eddie, put that thing down.”
Eddie allowed you to take the makeshift weapon from him, which you promptly - and carefully - set aside. Guiding him over to a rusted stool before lightly pushing down on his shoulders, Eddie instantly followed your prompting and sat. Wordlessly, he stared down at his hand, watching the blood slowly begin to squeeze through the cracks of his fingers.
Gently, you held out your hand. “Let me see.”
But Eddie pulled his hand away from your seeking grip, gaze snapping away from the blood and up to you. Pointedly, he said. “You’re not a cleric.”
Your expression instantly morphed from one of gentle concern to one of displeased grumpiness. Looking up at him with an exaggerated frown and slightly narrowed eyes.
“No, but I am a ranger. And that means that I have access to Cure Wounds, which allows me to provide emergency off-healing.” Ignoring Eddie’s fixed stare and how his breath grew still, you held out your hand expectantly. More firmly, you urged. “Now, let me see.”
Eddie, seemingly dazed from your close proximity and the fact that you had rattled off D&D language, promptly offered up his injured hand. Instantly, you took it and began to assess the damage. Fortunately for him, it was just a clean cut on his palm.
“Oh, that’s not too bad.” You muttered, gently prodding the area. Doubtful that you’d find any bandages within the boathouse, your mind instantly wondered to the main house. Glancing back up to Eddie, you throw up a finger and beseech. “Please don’t move. Alright? I’m going to go up to the house and see if there’s anything that I can use to bandage this up.”
Quickly, you get to your feet and move towards the door. But, just as you pull the door open, you glance over your shoulder. Eddie, dazedly holding his left hand up and away from his body, readily met your gaze.
Thrusting a finger in his direction, you stressed. “Stay there. Don’t move.”
Ignoring how Eddie made a show of freezing in place, you quietly slip out the boathouse door.
Thankful for the cover of darkness as you did your best Kelly Garrett impression, you stealthily made your way up the hill and into Reefer Ricks house. Luckily the place hadn’t changed much in the years that you had been away, so you easily found your way into the main bathroom. Unfortunately, there weren’t any bandages or ointments to help with your current predicament.
But, tucked beneath some empty boxes of sponges, you did find a random unopened bottle of whiskey.
Eddie, who had dutifully remained upon the stool, jumped slightly as the door to the boathouse creaked open a few minutes later. But he sagged in relief once you slid through the opening. Once the door was promptly shut, you quickly made your way back towards him.
“I’m sorry, but this is all Rick had.” Shaking the bottle of whiskey, you knelt before him and grumbled. “I’m going to have to seriously talk to him about his lack of first aid supplies. They’re important to have in a house.”
Eddie instantly brightened at the whiskey, promptly reaching for the bottle with a drawn out groan. “Oh, hell yes. Come to daddy.”
Ignoring the way that your skin flushed and your body shuddered, you pulled the bottle away and sternly clarified. “This is not for drinking. This is for cleaning.”
Frowning, Eddie watched hawkishly as you opened the large bottle. Brow wrinkling, he slowly exhaled through his nose. “This is probably gonna suck, right?”
Putting the cap aside, your frown promptly matched his. Gently taking his left hand in yours you helplessly stared at the injury, grimacing slightly at how his palm was completely saturated with dark crimson.
You hesitated, “I…I’m not sure. I’ve only ever seen this done in the movies or on television. I don’t know.”
Looking up, you meet his wide eyed gaze and instantly spot the nerves lingering there. Chewing on your lip, you offered him the bottle. “Okay. Maybe just a sip.”
Eddie seemed thankful as he shakily took the bottle and brought it to his lips. After a long sip, he pulled away and offered it back to you with a deep wince. Taking the bottle, you get down onto your knees before Eddie; eyeing the cut nervously as you do.
Quickly, you take a sip of whiskey yourself to help settle your own nerves.
“Well. Whatcha waiting for, doc?” Eddie asked as you shivered, voice slightly rough from the whiskey. There was a playful lilt to his lazy drawl, which made him sound more like himself. “Let’s fix this wizard up.”
Belly warm as the whiskey settled there, you gently grabbed for his hand. Exhaling through your mouth, you briefly mutter an apologetic “Sorry.” before slowly pouring the amber liquid onto his injured hand. Eddie hissed, automatically pulling his hand back but you firmly kept it in place.
“I know. I’m sorry. I know.” You gently muttered, watching as the liquid washed away the blood and dribbled down onto the floor. “I’m sorry, Eds.”
Putting the bottle aside, you swiftly began to pull your sweater over your head. Eddie sputtered, staring at you in mild shock as you disrobed between his legs.
“Wha-” He wheezed, swallowing thickly just as you pulled the sweater over your head; revealing a camisole beneath. Stare unabashed as you began to reach into the pocket of your jeans, Eddie’s voice was quick with nerves as he asked. “What are you doing?”
If it were any other situation, you would’ve been tickled at the reaction.
“I couldn’t find any bandages at the house.” Pulling out the pocket knife Steve had lent you, the blade easily pierced the fabric of your sweater. Once a long strip of fabric was made, you gingerly took Eddie’s hand in yours and, with a look of intense concentration, began to wordlessly dress the wound. “This’ll just have to do. For now, at least.”
Tightly knotting the end of the make-shift bandage, you placed your hands on your bent thighs and observed your handiwork. It’s wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it would do until they were able to get a hold of some actual supplies. Gently moving his newly bandaged hand to settle upon his lap, you began to consider contacting Robin.
I wonder if they’re up. You chewed anxiously on your bottom lip, eyes flitting towards the Walkie-Talkie you had been given. You briefly wonder if everyone was doing alright and if they were close to beating Vecna. Have them bring some bandages and stuff so it doesn’t get infected-
“Will I live?” Eddie asked good-naturedly, eyeing the bright purple fabric that was now wrapped around his hand.
Knocked from your thoughts, you smirked up at him while humming as you feigned consideration. Slapping your hands upon your thighs, you clicked your tongue. “I think you’re going to live another day, Munson.”
Eddie is full on smirking down at you now, eyes shining with a playfulness and mirth that you hadn’t seen from someone in a very long time. You had been surrounded by such rigidity at college, becoming so used to the seriousness of your fellow students and professors that you felt as if you had truly lost your spirit. Becoming used to the absence of fun and enjoyment, weighed down by a seriousness that sucked the color out of life.
And yet - kneeling between Eddie’s legs, who was being hunted for murder - you seemingly found yourself again. You felt alive, and it was simply because of the life that you saw within Eddie.
Within his eyes, it was like you had found color again.
It was as if something shifted between the two of you. Something unspoken that made the air run thick. You had felt it before, a thick tension that clung to you both. But this? This felt different. Where that felt awkward and cold, this felt electric and warm and inviting. This energized you, making your veins hum and your exposed skin prickle.
Eddie must’ve felt the shift too because his smirk slowly disappeared while the playfulness all but disappeared from his gaze. Replaced by a look of serious contemplation, causing you to melt beneath his warm, heady gaze.
You watched with bated breath as he slowly lifted his uninjured hand away from his thigh, tilting his head slightly in determination as his hand hovered within the air between you both. He watched you, cautious and slightly unsure, as he brought his hand up to gently brush across your cheek.
Your breath came out in a shuddering rush at the curious touch, eyelids fluttering slightly as the chill of the heavy rings kissed your burning skin. The touch was so familiar, causing your stomach to swim, especially once he tenderly took your chin between his thumb and pointer.
Looking absolutely vulnerable and open, Eddie licked his lips. “(Y/N), I-”
But the sudden burst of headlights flashing in through the window made you both violently jump apart. Adrenaline had you swiftly getting to your feet and rushing towards the window, pressing your face tightly up against the glass in a panic. But, as your wide eyes found the back of a beat up station wagon as it rumbled down the road, the glass instantly became fogged by your relieved exhale.
But then the reality of what had just happened hit you like a cinder block to the face.
Oh my god. What the hell was that?
Cheek and chin still burning from where Eddie had tenderly - so, so tenderly - touched, you swallowed harshly while hesitantly turning around. Your gaze instantly landed on your ex, who was partially in the boat and looking at you expectantly.
“Coast is clear.” You squeak, hating how frazzled you sounded. The tension left Eddie’s shoulders as he moved from the boat and back onto the dock, looking slightly lost and unsure. There was a few feet between you both but, even then, it all felt stifling. Unsure of what to do, you picked up your ruined sweater and shrugged it back on; self consciously pulling at the torn fabric since it now barely covered your midriff. Eddie, noticing your discomfort, began to shrug out of his denim vest but paused when you stopped him. “No, don’t. I’m okay. Thank you though.”
Eddie silently nodded.
Clearing your throat, you abruptly blurt out. “You need to sleep.”
Sheepishly, Eddie admitted with a shrug and a tight grin. “‘Dunno if I can.”
Your gaze slid from Eddie in order to snap over towards the boat, the place that he seemed to feel the safest. So, with a nod of determination, you walked over towards the boat and quickly clambered into it. Eddie watched as you gracelessly settled down upon the nest of blankets and life preserves, the chains rattling as you came to rest your back against the pointed bow.
“Here.” You said, gesturing towards the space where Eddie could easily lay with his head on your lap. Knowing that Eddie naturally craved physical touch, you knew this would help ease his nerves. Ignoring your own feelings, you patted your lap. “Use me as a pillow until morning. I’ll keep you safe and watch over you. Nothing bad will happen to you, Ed. I got you.”
Eddie looked torn at your invitation. Anxiously, he shifted upon on his feet while scratching harshly at his cheek; eyes shifting to look at the space between your thighs and back up to you.
“It’s okay.” You gently said, sending him a small smile that was equal parts vulnerable and confident. Vulnerable in that you were allowing Eddie - your ex - to be so close to you in such an intimate way, but confident in knowing that you were giving him what he truly needed at that moment in order to feel safe. So, holding out your hand, you repeated. “It’s okay.”
After a moment, Eddie slowly walked towards the boat and took your hand.
It took a little finagling, but you quickly found yourself with Eddie’s head resting on your lap, hair fanned out around his head and on your thighs like a dark halo. He laid upon his back, shoulders resting on your parted thighs while he stared unwaveringly up at the ceiling. You both remained silent and still, unsure of what to say and afraid to even make the smallest of sounds.
You watched as he blinked, languid and slow, while wondering how the rest of the group was fairing. Wondering if they were truly going to fix everything for Eddie.
We just have to wait and see, I guess. You nibbled at your lip, trying your hardest to remain positive.
Yes. Remaining positive. If not for you…then definitely for Eddie.
“I rolled a big fat one, huh?” Eddie’s small whisper sliced through the silence. He angled his head slightly to look up, staring at you with those big dark eyes.
You saw the hopelessness there and your body ached.
With a thin lipped frown, you placed your hand on his shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry.”
In the silent moments that followed, you couldn’t help but wonder what Chrissy was even doing at Eddie’s trailer in the first place. Was it simply a casual meeting or…were they fooling around? But you quickly shoved those thoughts away, knowing that it wasn’t your place to even think about it since you both meant nothing to each other anymore.
“Fuck. What I need is luck.” He grumbled, turning his attention back to the ceiling while his hands rested upon his stomach.
Yeah, luck. You hummed in acknowledgment, pulling a face in thought. I think we could all use some…
Wait, luck.
Lucky.
“Wait. I have something.” You beamed, careful to not jostle Eddie as you lifted one side of your hips in order to grab your wallet. Eddie sat up on his forearms, curiously looking back at you as you pulled out your wallet and began digging through it. With a bright smile, you pulled something out and held it towards Eddie. “Can I offer you a luck totem?”
Recognition had Eddie’s eyes brightening, sputtering wordlessly as he stared at the neon yellow guitar pick. Finally finding his voice, he beamed incredulously. “Lucky?!”
The boat rocked violently as Eddie gracelessly sprung to his feet, making you squeak as he spun around to face you. Swiping Lucky from your outstretched hand, he brought the guitar pick to his lips and made a show of peppering the plastic with sloppy kisses.
But Eddie stilled, staring at you with a look of pure shock. Licking his lips, he breathed. “You…you still had it.”
Well, shit.
Clearing your throat, you grew flustered beneath his heavy gaze. “I…well, it is lucky after all. Right? I can’t just throw luck away.”
Eddie looked away from you and smiled fondly down at the guitar pick, pursing his lips before offering it back to you. “You keep it. No, no. I insist, my lady.”
Furrowing your brow, you dumbly stared at the guitar pick before shaking your head once more. “I can’t, Ed. You kinda need it more than me, don’t ya think?”
But Eddie was quick to shrug you off, blowing a raspberry.
“I’ll be alright. Honestly? I’d feel better knowing you have it.“ He smirked, gentle and kind.
But you continued to blankly stare at Lucky and refused to take it back. Lightly rolling his eyes at your stubbornness, Eddie fell to his knee; rocking the boat once more and chuckling at your startled yelp. You glowered up at him as the chains rattled, the side of the boat bumping hollowly against the dock.
Once the boat came to a gentle sway, Eddie - with an impish grin - slowly took your wallet from your hand. Without breaking eye contact, he made a show of sliding Lucky back into your wallet. Raising a brow, you watched him snap the wallet shut before, with great care, placing it back into your hand.
Slowly, Eddie engulfed your hand with his; prompting you to curl your fingers around the wallet. The heat from his skin bled into your own, causing your veins to feel like they were on fire.
Your heart sang.
Quietly, he added. “Besides. Maybe Lucky benefits the whole party and not just the individual holding it.”
With a wink and a sly, lopsided grin, Eddie dramatically threw himself back down onto his back; head landing unceremoniously onto your lap in an avalanche of hair. You growled in discontent, cursing at him as the boat began to violently swing while he was reduced to teasing chortles.
Your heart nearly burst at the sight of his large dimpled smile - something beaming and bright and warm.
But, after awhile, you both grew silent and still. The only sound coming from the water below and the natural shifting of the boathouse. Until Eddie inhaled.
“Thank you. For, um, staying behind to protect me, Shieldmaiden.” He muttered, nibbling at his lip.
You put your hand on his shoulder and firmly squeezed. Gently smiling down at him, you whispered. “Always.”
1. Pointedly said he “runs from danger” and “isn’t a hero”.
2. Canon that he’s going to be playing loud as hell music in the Upside Down (aka death dimension) probably attracting a lot of attention.
3. Really no storyline-possible way for him to be “proved innocent” in the in the eyes of the townspeople (to prove his innocence all of Hawkins would need to know about FUCKING VECNA).
Me realizing all the dominos are lined up for Eddie Munson to have a Hero’s Death:
It's a good thing friends in the fandom 1) support my craziest, dumbest brainstorming ideas, and 2) hold me accountable.
Mature. Beetlejuice x reader.
Enjoy!
“Hey. There’s a package for you at the front desk.”
“A what? A package? What package?”
Your coworker shrugged.
Confused, you walked to the reception area. Brittany saw you coming and squealed in a voice that was completely unprofessional,
“Look! You lucky duck! You got flowers! That’s so sweet! I never get flowers!”
Who in the hell would send you flowers?
“Open it!” Britt exclaimed, clapping her hands after she shoved the box at you.. Then, in a faux pout, she needled, “You never told us you have a boyfriend! You thought you could keep it from us, but then he sent you flowers--”
The thin box felt heavy enough to contain roses, and even through the cardboard their scent wafted through. Popping the tape fastening the box closed, you opened it.
It was roses, all right. Their woody stems seemed mostly okay, but the flowers themselves had lost some color in their wilted state. The petals were brown along their wrinkled edges, and a couple had flopped over like sad cartoon flowers. Some of leaves had mold on them. Their distinctive scent came from the beginning stages of their rot, not because they were fresh.
Brittany’s face, wide-eyed with excitement, fell.
“Oh no! It must have been too hot in the delivery van! That’s too bad, they looked like they would have been really pretty! You’ll have to tell your boyfriend. At least he sent a card!”
Before she could be bold enough to snatch it out of the box, you grabbed it.
Despite it being in your hand, she followed it with her eyes. Years of working with professionals whose penmanship was less than legible gave her the superhuman power to read the writing on it. Even when this writing was worse than abysmal.
“Love you! BJ,” she read aloud, before looking back up at you. “BJ? His name is BJ?”
“Uh. Yeah,” you mumbled, then made a lame excuse about having to get back to your desk because you left a client on hold.
At least you’d been quick enough to close the box on the withered roses before she could see the ribbon still tied around them emblazoned with “In Fondest Memory.” You didn’t want the opportunity to find out if she was astute enough to realize they’d been filched from a gravesite.
⁂
“YOU GOT ANOTHER PACKAGE!”
Grimacing, you jerked the phone away from your ear as Brittany’s voice rang through it. With a sigh, you muttered an acknowledgement that you’d be right there and set the receiver back into the handpiece.
More flowers. You’d thanked Beetlejuice for the unexpected surprise at work; he’d preened like a peacock and told you you’d deserved every single one of those roses he’d found, that you were the best, that he was glad your coworkers could finally see that you had a normal, regular partner, that those posies weren’t the only surprise he had for you, winkwink--
Later you found he’d kept one of the roses. He’d shoved it down the front of his pants, and presented it to you like it was dewey fresh, instead of smashed and falling apart.
“Another for the lady,” he’d said. “There’s plenty more where they came from.”
Still touched he’d thought about you at all, you’d accepted it too. And the hardcore pounding that followed soon after because he’d been “thinking about you all day and had a raging boner.”
There was the Beetlejuice you knew so well. Afterward, you guessed you were glad he had put some actual effort into the gift hadn’t just charged for flowers and delivery on your credit card.
But now here were more. This box felt even heavier. Oh god, was he raiding funeral homes now? You gave an internal sigh of relief that it wasn’t a casket spray draped over Brittany’s desk. That would be just like Beetlejuice: showy, over the top, trying so hard but being just plain weird. All the reasons you liked the ghost, but also all the reasons you did your best to keep him and your normal, outside-the-house life separate--
“Well?! Don’t leave me in suspense!” Brittany demanded.
With a sigh she could hear this time, you tilted the box to get a nail under the tape. Whatever was in there shifted, and alarmingly, the box started buzzing.
“What is that? Oh! Is it, like, one of those card you can record a message on? Or a recording inside a teddy bear?!”
“More likely a bunch of bees,” you muttered. “Probably some dumb pun about me being his honey or something . . .”
Brittany gave you a puzzled look. You ignored her and were much more cautious about easing the box open.
Good thing too, because you were able to close it again quickly, without her getting a chance to peek and see what was inside.
“Well?!” your co-worker squawked.
A blush that you hoped wasn’t super noticeable--or if it was, you hoped it looked like anger and not embarrassment--made your cheeks hot.
“It’s--private! Sorry Britt, I’m going to have to run this to, uh, my car! I’ll be back quick!”
You bodily dodged her and her questions to hurry through the reception area and out the front door. You willed yourself to just hold onto the shaking box until you made it to the safety of your car. Only then did you fully open the box and see all the vibrators Beetlejuice had loaded into the cardboard. And for padding he used . . . your panties?! And a pair of his ratty briefs.
For the love of . . .
Clicking the button on the vibrator that had accidentally turned on, it cycled through slow, medium, fast, and extra fast before shutting off. There was no separate note; he’d taken the time to write directly on the inside of the lid.
“Baby, you shake up my world!” he’d sloppily written. Beetlejuice had obviously changed his mind after he wrote it: The word “pulsate” had a line drawn through it and “shake” was below the rest of the sentence. Seeing the effort taken for the revision made you smile. “I can’t wait to shake yours tonight! I licked every one of these to get them ready for you.”
Several hearts and smiley faces were drawn too. If he had the artistic talent to draw something dirty, you had no doubt he would have.
It was the thought that counted. Right? That didn’t mean you weren’t going to sit down and have a talk with him about appropriate ‘gifts’ and what was and was not to be sent to your place of work. Of course that would mean he may find other spots to hide surprises, but a black and white striped tentacle-shaped vibrator found in your bed, or hell, even the couch, would be much more welcome than out in public where, you know, you could potentially be fired.
You’d tell him all that. You’d make him understand. Help him learn more about a suitable time and place for gift giving.
First, though, you’d let him use some of these vibrators on you--and in the interest of being fair, you’d use some on him!--tonight. You know, to be polite and appreciative of him thinking of you.
go ahead, touch yourself (steve harrington x afab gn reader)
gif by disdaidal ^
plot: you and steve are new roommates and are still establishing boundaries
content warnings: graphic language, masturbation, fingering, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, steve loves getting his hair pulled
word count: 2.8k
a/n: based off of some djo lyrics that make me absolutely feral... as well as this gif..... i'm losing my sanity over this fcking man
takes place between s3 and s4!
taglist: @cuddlingwithharry
(send me an ask be to added to a taglist!)
You were standing in front of your full length mirror. Your eyes scanned up and down yourself in contemplation, brow slightly scrunched.
You hear a pair of footsteps pass your room. "Steve can you come here for a sec?" You call, and the footsteps stop. You watch your doorknob twist and the door open at a medium pace; by the time Steve's whole figure appears on the other side he's putting a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He was in a crewneck and cotton basketball shorts
"We're out of Cheerios if that's what you're about to ask." He says with his mouth full.
You chuckle, brow furrowing. "What? No."
"Oh, okay, what's up?" He walks in immediately and sits on your bed, taking another bite with a small slurp.
You turn to face him, holding your arms out out awkwardly next to you. "What do you think of this outfit?" You asked with genuine concern.
"Um," Steve's head tilts, properly scanning you. "Turn for me."
You can't help but feel a little embarrassed as you turn around until you face him again. He nods slowly, chewing, looking like he's really thinking about it. Until his face relaxes, "Yeah I don't know why I told you to turn I have no idea if that's a good outfit or not."
"UGH, Steve!" You groan. "I really need your help! I'm fucking nervous!"
His head cocks back in confusion, "Why?"
You sigh, "I'm going on a date, okay? And it's my first one since Jessie fucking," You swallow. "Broke my heart, so," You turn back to your reflection and look yourself in the eye. "I don't know, maybe I shouldn't go."
"Y/N, it's been two months since that asshole kicked you out of his apartment. You should go." You heard Steve from behind you. He takes another bite. "Seriously."
You contemplate his words. You had spent those two months in and out of a depressive episode. Luckily you had found a cheap enough place to move to after a week staying in Nancy's basement, but you could only stretch it with a roommate. Steve, who had still been living in under the roof of his asshole dad, gladly agreed. But moving just gave you a bigger space to wallow in. You hadn't even started unpacking anything besides your pajamas and your work clothes until about an hour ago.
"So my outfit is okay, then?" You ask him, meeting his eyes through the reflection of the mirror.
Steve offers a sheepish smile, "Again, no idea." He sighs. You can't help but chuckle this time. "But you look great."
You and Steve stare at each other through the mirror, both of you seemingly holding something back. You clear your throat and turn around, facing him again. "Okay, get out now, I have to jerk off."
Steve's whole body jolts at your words. "What?"
"That's what you do before a date, so the sexual tension doesn't overwhelm the evening." You tap your head with your finger. "So you can think."
Steve chortles; he thinks you're joking. He seems to be frozen sitting on your bed, holding his mostly-empty cereal bowl on his thigh, staring at you as you stare back at him expectingly. "Oh my god, you're serious?" He laughs in astonishment. "You jerk off?"
You crossed your arms, "Is that so hard to believe?"
"Uh, I mean," His eyes wander the ceiling. "I guess not. I just, I don't know, can't really picture you doing it."
You pursed your lips, "Then don't, weirdo."
Steve laughs again, but this time much more forced. The energy has suddenly shifted in the room but neither of you can describe how. Steve's still just sitting there.
"He's gonna be here in like 30 minutes, Steve–"
"Fine, fine," He throws his arms up in surrender, holding the bowl at the right angle so it doesn't spill. He stands and makes his way to your bedroom door, using his free hand to shut it.
You catch a glimpse of his face just as the door closes over it, and hear him mumble something that sounded like "Have fun." in a monotonous tone.
Steve sat on his bed, empty cereal bowl on his nightstand, staring at the wall. He didn't really know what to do with himself.
He could go into the living room and watch TV, but that would mean passing your bedroom door. And he really didn't want you to hear him walk past your door, knowing that he knew what you were doing, and think he was some kind of pervert.
Still, his mind kept wandering back to your room, your eyes, your fingers. His brow furrows as he swallows. He couldn't tell if he was thankful or spiteful the walls to the apartment were so thick.
But then he starts thinking about what you would sound like, and oh god, he's hard now. Why had he never thought about you like this before? Steve can't think of a good enough answer.
He waits for you to leave for your date to get in the shower and jerk off. But when he does, you're the only thing on his mind. Your fingers pulsing in and out of your entrance, becoming damper from your own arousal. He imagine it's your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him, as you touched yourself. Then he thought about you feeling yourself get wetter because you were stroking him, and he's done for.
He cums from that thought alone. The shower water hitting his chest, his jaw hanging open, low moans echoing throughout the bathroom. One hand presses firmly onto the tile wall beside him for support, the other finishes himself off into the shower drain.
He washes himself down and gets out of the shower. Throwing a towel around his waste, he combs his hair back in the mirror. When he opens the door, he nearly falls backward at the sight of you standing in the hallway.
"Y/N, what the fu-" He catches himself and stands up straight, hand gripping his towel to keep it wrapped around him. "How– What– Um," He stutters, then clears his throat. "What are you doing here?"
"I bailed on the date." You say, your eyes struggling not to wander downward from Steve's face. You point at the bathroom, "Were you...?" You trail.
Steve decides to play it cool. "Was I what?"
You meet his eye, and you sense a twinge of panic that makes you hold yourself back from embarrassing him. You already knew the answer. "Nothing," You drop your hands to your side. "I'm gonna go to bed."
Steve opens his mouth to say something, but holds himself back as he watches you turn around toward your bedroom. He sighs, "Goodnight."
You glance at him from over your shoulder for only a second, "Goodnight, Steve."
About two hours had passed and neither you or Steve had gotten an ounce of sleep. Steve had spent it swimming in embarrassment, trying to think of the perfect thing to say to you when he sees you the next morning– trying to erase the thought that you heard him jerking off in the shower.
Meanwhile, you replayed the moment in your mind over and over. Your core twinging at the very memory if his muffled moans from the bathroom.
You didn't want to bail on your date, and you wouldn't have if you hadn't idiotically told Steve you were going to masturbate before you did. You and Steve never talked about stuff like that, which was probably why he was so surprised when you had mentioned it.
And when you lied down to do it, hand slipping into the jeans you had just asked his opinion for, you tried to excite yourself about your date. Peter was really cute, and you two had a tangible amount of chemistry. But for some reason, your mind kept going back to how sweaty Steve had gotten just a moment ago.
You weren't blind. You knew you were attracted to Steve. But he was Steve– He was basically a brown Labrador in a polo shirt. And he was one of your best friends.
But these salient points tend to cloud in the heat of passion. Steve was what got you to the finish line– you couldn't help but imagine if his fingers were down your underwear, fingering you senselessly as you writhed under his touch. You came quicker than you usually do.
That made it pretty hard to focus on anyone else. You realized this as you waited outside for Peter, but couldn't bring yourself to think of anyone beside Steve. Why had you never thought about him like this before?
You checked your watch, 7:48. You could probably still catch Peter at his house. You rushed to the payphone outside your apartment building, made up some excuse about feeling under the weather, and went upstairs.
Steve doesn't hear you walk into the apartment, even though the door is cracked open a smidge. You only start to hear the shower running when you get to the hallway. And then a low echo of a grunt.
You freeze in your place, stomach dropping to the floor.
The grunts turn into breathy moans, and you can't move. Your mouth agape, you feel your breath become shallow. Arousal is pooling at your entrance now as you hear Steve reach his climax.
You press your back against the hallway wall and catch your breath. And then you realize what you were doing and let out a silent chuckle. You should go back to your room, pretend you never heard a damn thing. But part of you wants to face this head on. You haven't felt this brave in months.
And then the door opens, and you see his face flush with embarrassment, and you chicken out.
But your mind is still there, in the hallway, even though you are now lying in your dark room in silence. You should go talk to him, you thought to yourself. That's what adults do about these things, they talk them through.
Steve hears your door open and soft footsteps stop outside his bedroom. He can see the shadow of your legs from the crack above the floor. He stands up.
"Steve?" You say softly, a gentle knock on the white wood of his door.
Steve opens the door, and you meet eyes. You open your mouth to speak, but the words get caught on your throat. Part of you is trying to find something, anything, to say. Another part of you is losing yourself in Steve's eyes. His hair is a little disheveled and he doesn't have a shirt on, just a pair of sweatpants.
There was nothing you wanted to say, you realize. You just wanted him.
So instead of talking, you leap forward, grab his face by both cheeks and bring it to yours. His arm wraps around your back, taken aback by the kiss for only a second before leaning into it. You push Steve backward and shut his door behind you.
The kiss grows more passionate by the second, sloppy and open mouthed. When Steve's tongue slides against yours, you moaned. A whiny, soft sound that sent a rush of blood straight to Steve's groin. You wrap your arms around Steve's neck, pulling him even closer.
God, he was a good fucking kisser. He put all of his focus into it, devouring you, moving his mouth against yours in a way that left you breathless. You could feel his hard-on against your stomach.
"I want you, Steve," You whined against his lips. "I want you inside me."
Steve, speechless and panting, nodded. He kissed you again, this time guiding you toward his bed until the mattress hits the back of your knees. He tugged at the hem of your shirt and you lifted your arms to pull it over your head. He palms one of your boobs as he kisses down your neck.
You take the opportunity to reach down and palm him through his sweatpants. You can tell he's not wearing underwear. He groans against your collarbone, his hot breath hitting your skin and giving you goosebumps.
He unbuttons your jeans and pushes them down your thighs. You pull away from him and sit on his bed, lifting your legs so he can tug them off. He tosses them to the floor, then wraps his fingers under the hem of your underwear and pulls those down your legs too. You watch him stare at your cunt with a hunger you've never seen in your best friend before.
"C'mere," You nudge your head in his direction. His gaze meets your's again and he kneels on his bed. You spread your legs so he could sit between them. He leans forward, using his arms to hold himself over you, and kisses you again. Still just as hungry and desperate, if not more so.
You feel a hand snake down to your core, as Steve begins to spread your arousal up and down your folds. You shudder at the touch, moaning against his lips. He pulls back from the kiss, "Is this okay?"
His fingers brush your clit and your breath hitches. "Mmhm," Is all you can manage to get out.
Then he pulls his hand away. Your eyes open to see what he's doing– He grabs your own hand resting on his bicep and guides it downward. "Touch yourself," Steve kisses your shoulder. "I wanna see what you like." He kisses your collarbone.
Your fingers rub your swollen clit, quickly getting lost in the sensation. Eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Steve kisses your stomach, your hip, the inside of your thigh.
When you open your eyes he's resting on his stomach between your thighs, face hovering over your cunt. You continue making wide, sloppy circles around your bead.
Then you feel a finger pump into you and you gasp, "F-Fuck, Steve."
Steve kisses your hand as you work over yourself. He adds another finger and you're in heaven, head falling backward as his fingers filled you. Then you feel his tongue snake between your fingers, right on your bundle of nerves.
His tongue replacing your fingers, you bring your hand to his hair. And when his tongue touches your sweetest point, you pull hard on his thick brown locks, earning a moan from him against your skin.
Steve takes note of the spot and begins to suck, his lips wrapping around your clit in the most perfect way. You pull even harder on his hair and he sucks even tighter. His fingers curve upward slightly and your eyes squeeze shut as you cum, drawn-out and ragged moans spilling from your lips.
Your pussy is convulsing around his fingers, and he maintains his pace until you come down from your high. When he brings his face back to you, his lips are swollen and his cheeks flushed. You kiss him, tasting your own arousal.
Without breaking the series of kisses, you pull his sweatpants down. His cock springs upward as the waistband frees it, and you begin to pump him half-heartedly, distracted by his tongue dipping into your mouth.
Steve pulls away and guides his hips to meet your entrance. When he pushes into you, it's slow and dragged out, bottoming you out and filling you to the brim. Steve moans as he pulls back, and the sound sends you into a spiral again. You can feel yourself wanting him more and more by the second.
You clench around him as he pumps into you again, and Steve's head tilts downward to watch himself sink into your pussy. "You feel so fucking good, Y/N." He says as he looks back up at you.
You grab his face and pull him into another kiss. His lips trail to your cheeks to your neck, as he starts to go at faster pace. You dig your hands into his hair and grip harder with each thrust. Steve moans against your neck, hot breath hitting your skin.
You reach down to rub your clit the same way you did before, and you feel Steve's back hunch so he can watch your fingers. "Love seeing you–" He grunts, hips moving faster. "Fucking touch yourself, shi-it."
You feel another high coming just as his thrusts become sloppier. Your back arches under him as your second climax washes over you, your moans getting more and more desperate.
Steve tenses as he cums inside of you. You hold onto him as he twitches and shudders, his thrusts gradually coming to a hault.
He rolls off of you and collapses next to you in the bed. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath. You look at him, and can't help but find him beautiful like this. Caked in a layer of sweat, hair spiking in different directions, mouth agape as he breathed.
Then he catches you staring, and without missing a beat, says, "We should've done that years ago."
I’ve gotten several asks and messages all asking me if I saw the newest season of Stranger Things and if I was writing anything for Eddie Munson…and I hate how predictable my thirsts are but I’m also happy that I am understood.
“Can you stop drawing him like me?! Your Beetlejuice is looking more and more like me! That’s how you draw me! Are you just TRYING to get the fandom to actually believe that you’re married to Beetlejuice???” - My husband after I showed him my drawing. Lmfao.
Blumjuice is how musical Beej thinks he comes across to others (semi-clean taller guy with a smooth voice and generally upbeat attitude), and Brightjuice is how he’s actually viewed by others (messy, growly voiced raccoon man)
