#Steve would probably love it though but he would deny it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewulf · 3 months

Text

Peachy Girl || Steve Randle

Summary: Request - Could you please do a Steve Randle x Curtis Sister! Reader where the two of them are really close and Steve is really protective of her and helps her out a lot?... Read Rest Here

A/N: Thank you so much for the request anon. This one is so soft and sweet :)

Pairing: Steve Randle x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.2k +

TW: crying, anxiety, sadness, hints of depression

Ever since your parents had passed those months ago you’d felt like you were drifting further and further into invisibility in your own home. It was never easy being the second middle child, right between the dazzling Sodapop and the book smart Ponyboy. You were kind of always just there. You’d made up for you lack of being special in anything by being kinder than anybody around you. There was always a smile on your face no matter the occasion. It took the passing of the most important people in your life to dim it.

But you had to put on a show for your brothers. They were already going through so much on their own. Darry had to step up and become a father in a matter of moments for his grieving siblings, he might not have even grieved himself. Sodapop was navigating falling in love while figuring out the loss. The moment he could he dropped out of school to start working at that gas station down the road with Steve.

Steve Randle, Soda’s very best friend. Steve had been a part of the Curtis household for as long as you had remembered. He was always just there. He was always your favorite of the greasers. You’d always found it so easy to talk to him, vent to him. He’d always been soft on you too. Little did you know of his growing crush on you that Soda was, very unfortunately, sworn to secrecy. Even though Sodapop assured him all of the boys would support it. Soda maybe wasn’t the most book smart, but he certainly wasn’t dumb either. Soda just knew when he’d lost his best friend to his sister. Not that he minded. He always knew there was something deeper there that neither of you wanted to see. Not until Soda caught Steve staring off at her a few too many times. Steve couldn’t deny the growing feelings he felt for you.

Then there was Ponyboy. Pony. The baby of the family. The brainiac child who was going to get the hell out Tulsa. He was always destined for so much more than the greaser life he was born into. You never felt like you didn’t belong with them you just felt like they didn’t know you or care to know you. They just assumed you were fine. You had a smile on your face always.

When your parents passed everything went to straight to the depths hell. You had to figure it out on your own as Pony spiraled quickly. His usual A grades were slipping to C’s. He just didn’t seem to care anymore. He and Darry got into nothing but arguments every night. At first you’d tried to mediate, but you’d grown tired of being ignored by the two of them as you tried to calm down the blowouts. So, you just let it happen. Then that dreadful night happened. Johnny killed a soc and Pony ran away with him. For five dreadful days you mustered up the strength to be the rock you brothers needed as they were in a state you’d never seen before. You were just as panicked as they were, you just couldn’t show it. Then he came home, a hero. The entire ordeal was nothing less than horrific for you, but it didn’t matter, no. Ponyboy needed them, you even. You had to be the big sister he could lean on now.

You had been so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t heard the front doors usual squeak when it opened and closed. No, you were just staring at the pages of homework sitting at the kitchen table in front of you. You hadn’t even heard the footsteps of the man you could probably call your own best friend if Soda hadn’t claimed him so fiercely.

“Hey Peach.” Steve’s usual demanding voice had downturned into something softer, “You doin’ alright? Where’s everyone?” Your eyes flicked up to meet his smiling gaze looking down at you. You’d grown close to Steve, especially after your parents had passed.

Steve had started calling you Peach after you went through a phase one summer where you discovered your love for the fruit. You wanted peach everything. Steve found it far cuter than he should have. He was fifteen at the time and you were fourteen. It was then that he knew his feelings were changing for the younger Curtis sister. You also loved baking, so Steve became your designated taste tester after your family was tired of trying peach flavored treats. He couldn’t stand the look of disappointment on your face when somebody turned down what you baked. That’s why he made sure to take at least one of everything each time you offered.

He didn’t miss the way you jumped. His sudden presence in the oddly quiet house surprising you, “Hi Stevie.” Giving him your best smile that surely didn’t fool him of your sullen mood as you nodded your head along trying to convince yourself more than him, “I’m okay. Just struggling through some homework. Pony’s at his afterschool tutoring thing. Soda’s down at the DX and Darry’s still at work. Said it’d be a late night. His crew took on another job.”

Steve nodded as he sat down next to you grabbing for your pre-calculus homework you’d all but zoned out on, “You’re the smartest gal I know, Peach.” He grinned reading over the problems you hadn’t even tried starting. It was only two years ago he’d been in the same class, and he’d remembered a little of it so an offer of help would likely not do too much to actually help.

A sigh left your lips, “Don’t feel so smart right now Stevie.” Defeat was evident in your tone. You were overtired. Exhausted and not quite sure how you were going to continue on faking something that was breaking you apart. You felt like a burden on the family, on Darry. Useless and just another mouth to feed. At least Soda was bringing in money and Pony had some promise.

Steve was silent as he studied you. He watched as you grabbed for your homework back. Your eyes stayed trained on the homework. Your eyes strained as you wrote something down before quickly erasing it. He’d watched you for a few minutes as you struggled through whatever was going on in your head. Something was going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it. It was becoming clear he was a safe space for you to open up.

He placed his hand down on the table next to yours, “Hey Curtis, what’s going on?” His voice was kinder than you’d ever heard from him which only made it harder to hold back the building tears behind your eyes. Why were you about to cry anyway? It made you feel weak as you pushed your hands in your eyes trying to push them away.

He watched with worry as you seemed to crumble at his words and under his gaze. He’d never, in the nearly twelve years of knowing you, seen you act so off from your usual self. He knew you were holding back from him and that certainly wasn’t like you. It’d only take a little bit of word to get the truth out of your lips and he knew it.

But to his surprise you actually gave him an answer he could understand, “I’m just… tired.” You trailed off before continuing, letting it out. Steve had become sort of a safe space for you after your life was thrust into chaos, “I’m not important Stevie. Not smart like Pony so what’s the point of trying in school? Not beautiful and charming like Soda. I have the personality of a scared mouse compared to him. And I’m certainly not strong like Darry. Who else could do what he's dealing with right now. I’m invisible and useless and…”

Steve had to stop you. The words coming out of your own mouth were upsetting him far more than you realized, “You can’t say things like that, Peach.”

“But it’s true.” He saw the way you blinked slowly trying to stop the incoming tears that seemed inevitable at this point.

Steve couldn’t stand the sight of you. Not having a clue how to comfort not only his friend but the girl he’d always loved but just recently realized it. He decided to grab for your hand. Once he had it he ran his thumb in gentle circles on the back of it. He wasn’t a man for many words most of the time, but you needed his words now, “Your brothers are those things, you’re right Peach. But you’re also the kindest greaser I’ve ever met. When nobody stopped to help that little kid last week you didn’t think twice to help him and stop the bleeding from his scraped knees. You changed that kids day for the better when nobody bothered to stop.”

He smiled seeing the blush rising to your cheeks at his small praise. He had to continue on knowing that the kind words were actually working, “The best damn baker too. The guys always talk about how good your treats are. Shit, after the rumble they all but demanded some cupcakes from Miss Curtis. You’re a sunshine, Peach. You’re my sunshine, Y/N. So please, don’t say those things. You’re so important. Important to so many people. To me.”

Not being able to hold back the tears after the sweetest words from him you just let them fall. Before you could brush them away you felt his hands wiping them away for you. Not even you could deny the way your heart started racing at the intimate touch of his hands on your cheeks. You loved him and you didn’t have a clue how to say it. He made you feel the safest and most secure out of the greasers. Not even Pony could make you feel so loved, cherished, and adored.

After a moment of your sniffles and tears he decided to do something he’s never done with you before. But then again, he’d genuinely only seen you cry after your parents had died. You weren’t a crier and him seeing you with so many was distressing him. He stood up, took your hand, and gently led you to the living room. Without saying a word, he pulled you down with him as he sat down on the couch. In his boldest move he wrapped his arms right around your waist and pulled you into him. It startled you but it felt oddly… right. There wasn’t a hint of either of you being uncomfortable as you laid your head on his shoulder. Steve let his hand rest just under your hip.

“You hear me Peachy girl?” He whispered while using his other hand to gently run his hands through your hair.

You could have sworn your heart literally fluttered at the way he changed your nickname. Softer and sweeter. A side of Steve Randle that only you would see. He had his issues, but they were never directed at you. You’d never felt safer than when you were with him.

A soft nod came from you, “I hear you. Thank you Stevie. For everything. You’re always there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” If you weren’t so cried out from the earlier tears you were sure the emotions would be too much for you right now. Steve was quite literally holding you in his arms. You didn’t want to think too much into it, but it felt like things were about to change between the two of you.

You felt your eyes grow heavy as a yawn escaped your lips. He had no idea how soothing this was for you. Exactly and everything that you needed. Only he could know that. He knew you better than your brothers that lived with you.

“It’s a good thing you’ll never have to do that then, yeah?” He asked more so reassuring your thoughts

He smiled seeing the tension leaving you, your eyes drooping heavily. It wasn’t what he had planned but he relished at the thought of you falling asleep on him. Quicker than he thought he heart your breaths even out. He continued to run his hand through your hair not wanting to break the peace you’d finally found.

He had no idea how long the two of you sat there before the front door opened up once more. Thankfully it was just Soda who walked in with the usual grease smeared across his face.

“What’s this?” Sodapop grinned as he spotted your sleeping head on Steve’s shoulder, “This where you went this afternoon? Flirting with my kid sister?” His smile let Steve know he was more than okay with the arrangement.

“Oh, get outta here Soda. You’ve been pushing this for years anyway. And quiet down. She needs the sleep. I gotta talk to you and Darry bout her.” His softened stature had hardened right back up in the presence of Sodapop.

Soda set his bag down before walking over to the couch. Even Soda had to admit how painstakingly cute the two of you looked together. The Curtis brother wasn’t sure of much, but he was sure of this. He knew you could jump headfirst in and come out the other side squeaky clean. He knew how deeply Steve had loved and cared for you. He just knew the two of you were meant to be together. There were these things in life that just made sense and the two of you together were one of them.

“What about?” Soda asked not missing the way his hand was wrapped around her.

“Later, I already said be quiet. She's sleeping."

Soda smirked, “Alright grumpy. Already protecting her.”

Steve rolled his eyes while flipping his best friend off, “Always.” A nod of appreciation left Soda before he made his way to his room letting the two of you have whatever it was going on. He knew you’d try and fight it for a while, but he was also sure you’d give in. You were already so soft on Steve, it just made sense.

“Sleep well, Peachy girl.” Steve whispered not minding that he had nothing to do but simply hold you. He’d prayed for days like these and here it was. You might actually want what he did and for the first time in a while he had hope that this could actually work out.

Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu

@michael-langdons-curls - thought you might wanna be tagged :)

189 notes · View notes

rogueddie · 2 years

Text

Steve has always been confused when people describe family- the structure, what it means to them, any of it. His parents were always distant with him. The babysitters they hired weren't any better.

He's never really considered family important or significant. It's a meaningless word to him. He has his relatives and that's it. He doesn't have any family, not the way people describe it as anyway.

Well. He used to think like that. He thought like that for a while and, for most of that time, he was right. But it very quickly turned around.

It started with Dustin.

The kid was clearly in awe of Steve. Steve had seen it clear as day and found himself desperate to keep him safe. And he did- he worked hard to keep the brat alive, despite repeated efforts to undermine that. And Dustin is so fiercely loyal.

"You die, I die!" Dustin had yelled at him once.

Steve had stared at him, with a sudden cold realization; he loves Dustin. The kid is his family. A weird mix between a little brother and a son. And Dustin clearly felt just as strong for him.

He already knew how ready he was to die for Dustin. He knew now, without a doubt, that nothing would be able to stop him from keeping him safe.

But, he reasoned, one pseudo-kid is enough.

Then Lucas had turned to him one summer. He wanted to get into basketball and knew Steve used to play. It was supposed to be simple practices, some tips and things like that. Nothing special, just advice between friends. Because that's all they were, at the time.

Over the summer, with all the time spent together, they quickly because good friends. And, again, Steve kept telling himself that it's just that. Friends. He's already got a weird pseudo-kid with Dustin.

Watching the game, however, quickly shatters that illusion. As soon as Lucas had stepped onto the court, Steve thought; "thats my kid!"

And Steve thought having one kid was a blessing- a horrible, sarcastic, needy blessing but a blessing none-the-less. Having two is chaotic, but oddly comforting. They're both so different and fill spaces in his heart he hadn't known were empty. They're more family than Steve had ever thought he'd be allowed to have.

But Max had quickly stepping into the picture.

There was always something about her that made Steve feel even more protective. Their first real time spent together being that van, the demodogs, definitely didn't help. He doesn't think he'll ever forget hearing her scream. He doesn't think he's ever moved as fast as he had then.

Seeing Billy getting aggressive with Lucas had only heightened it all. He'd only known Max a few days when he realized that she would never be able to shake him now.

Even when Max tried to push him away, after Billys death, saying the cruelest things she could thing of to get him to back off, he hadn't. He'd simply started to call her parents instead, made sure they knew if they needed anything, if Max ever wanted to vent to him again, he's still there. He's still waiting.

Seeing her in a hospital dead, essentially dead just… it feels like someone has shoved their arm down his throat and pulled his lungs out. Like someone has taken something so vital...

The only comfort, the only person who seems to settle him, is Eddie Munson. But... Eddie isn't part of his little pseudo-family. He wants him to be. He doesn't. It's... confusing. Because he likes Eddie.

Eddie, who lets Steve hold his fingers to his wrist so he can feel his pulse. Eddie, who insists on being moved into a wheelchair so Steve isn't sat in Maxs room alone. Eddie, who doesn't let anyone make Steve go home even though he probably should. Eddie, who looks at Steve like he hasn't failed him or the kids.

One day, Steve asks. He has to, he has to know.

"You're a good dad to them," Eddie explains. He quickly holds up a hand when Steve tries to deny it. "You are. And you aren't the only one who forgets it. You need someone to look out for you too and, since Buckley is too busy hitting on your ex, you're stuck with me."

"I'm not stuck," is all Steve could think to say.

"Hm?"

Steve ducks his head, tries to pull back but Eddie just holds onto his hand tighter. "I'm not... I don't feel stuck. With you."

"Good."

Steve glanced up. Eddie rewarding him with a bright grin, lifting his hand up to kiss the back of it. Steve can feel his face heating up. He doesn't feel embarrassed though, hopes the little smirk means that Eddie is taking his blush as encouragement.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve and his children #ficlet #steddie fic #i had no idea how to end this #sorry?#foundfamily

2K notes · View notes

katyswrites · 10 months

Text

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 1 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol references, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 2.5k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 1

April 1994

“So, all votes are in?” Katie asked. Everyone in the room nodded, and you sat forward in your seat.

The current General Manager of the radio station, Katie, ran a tight ship. Still, nobody could deny that they were sad to see her leaving - graduation was claiming too many people this year. She glanced down at her clipboard, adjusting her glasses.

General Manager would be read first, you knew that - it was the closest position the station had to President, the person who ran the whole thing. And after the last three years, all signs pointed to Katie's successor being you. Most people didn’t want the job - it was pretty thankless, all on a volunteer basis, and the election is often more of a formality to the most obvious person. But, you were passionate about the radio station - you always had been. Running it wouldn’t be easy, but you knew you were the right person to do it.

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your favorite place, your niche. There’s nothing you loved more than spinning some records on-the-air, hanging out in the station lounge, and being a part of something. It’s where you’ve made your friends, easily able to bond over your love of music, making it your safe space when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

You could feel Steve Harrington’s eyes on you from where he sat across the room. You pointedly ignored him, your clasped fingers growing clammy with anticipation.

“Drumroll, everyone!” she said, resulting in a cacophony of pats against legs, tables, or any available surface. When Katie read your name, the room broke into a smattering of applause.

“Congratulations!” Nancy cried from where she sat next to you, throwing her arms around your shoulders.

“Thanks,” you laughed, giving your friend a tight squeeze.

Despite the fact that you had expected this, a wave of relief washed over you. There was no glamor in keeping this place running, you knew that. Still, you cared too much about it, and now it was in your hands… just as you had hoped.

Your joy could only last so long, though - you were almost too caught up in your personal celebration to notice. Almost.

“Okay, and for Program Director… Steve!”

This time, a few whoops and hollers were let out - probably from Steve’s buddies, large in number and often loudly enthusiastic. But, you were just frozen, feeling your fists clench.

The Program Director coordinates a lot of things - new DJ training, events, stocking the music library… and works most closely with the General Manager. Meaning...

“Looks like we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together, sweetheart,” he said later with a smirk.

The meeting was long over - positions had been announced, congratulations given, goodbyes for the semester bid on the way out. You had sat there for the last hour with a rage steadily bubbling under the surface. You had tried your best to listen, relieved to find out Nancy was working as the Media Director, and your friend Eddie working as the Training Director. That, at least, offered some comfort - if you’d be running your favorite place with your friends, how bad could it be?

The answer, apparently, is still pretty shitty.

You can’t put a finger on exactly why Steve Harrington bothered you so much. But, from the moment you had met, he had been a thorn in your side. He knew it, too - it seemed to be his life’s mission to get on your nerves, just to get a rise out of you.

But he was blocking the exit, arm leaning casually against the doorframe. So, you took the approach you usually tried to - not letting him see that he was getting to you.

“Looks like it,” you said, words measured and careful. “But until then… have a good summer, Harirngton.”

You tried to shoulder past him, but he wasn’t budging. You sighed, meeting his gaze again and straightening up a bit.

“Do you mind?”

“I just thought you were gonna try to stick around - let me guess, you already have a 20-step plan for what we should do next year? I mean, I’m surprised you didn’t just jump all the new E-Board members to tell them how you’re going to run things. You know, in your insane and anal-retentive way.”

You clenched your jaw, grimacing as the notebook that you knew was buried in your backpack, containing your ideas for next year’s agenda.

"That's a pretty big word for you, I'm impressed," you mocked. Before he could come up with a clever reply, you continued:

“You know, I was surprised you ran for a position,” you said sweetly. “I mean, last I checked, you haven’t shown up to a single volunteer event. Were you even at the Spring fundraiser?”

“I was busy.”

“Funny way of saying hungover,” you retorted.

You took a deep breath, taking a moment to regain your composure.

“Look, we’re going to have to work together, so - can we just start over? Bury the hatchet, or whatever?”

He just grinned.

“Yeah, sure thing, sweetheart,” he said, voice lower. “You’re the boss.”

You had given up on asking him to drop the sweetheart thing long ago. So instead, you gave him a sharp nod, muttering have a good summer, Harrington.

He stepped aside enough to let you through, but still crowded the doorway enough that you had to brush past him as you did.

You ignored the way his breath caught as you did.

Maybe you could both be mature adults about this… maybe.

*******

September

“Harrington?!” You cry, stomping into the booth. Steve sits in the chair, switchboard alight as Head Over Heels plays through the speakers. He barely hears you enter, thanks to the headphones he’s wearing. When you slam your hands down on the desk, he jumps in his seat.

“Jesus - the fuck are you doing here?” he cries, yanking the headphones off to let them fall around his neck.

“You booked studio space without going through me,” you say angrily.

His face shifted then, from confusion to smugness.

“Oh - well, you were unreachable, and I only needed two board members’ approval. And, I count as a board member.”

“Who the fuck was the second person who approved it?”

“Eddie.”

You groaned. Of course - Eddie probably didn’t even know -

“So your band just happened to book studio space to go on-air during my show’s time slot?”

“Oh… it’s during your show?” he asks, voice saccharine with feigned innocence.

You rolled your eyes.

“Cut the act, Harrington. There are a ton of empty time slots that your little band could play during, you know.”

He sighed, crossing his arms and spinning the chair around to fully face you.

“If you’re so hurt about it, why don’t you come by? We need an emcee, and if you’re already usually here…”

“As if I’d waste my time coming to listen to you guys. I don’t even listen to your show.”

“So you’ve said. I thought your boyfriend was in the band too, last time I checked.”

You scoffed. “Eddie is not my boyfriend. And, not that he’d ever tell you, but he’s filling in as a favor. He’s only playing with you guys because Corroded Coffin broke up.”

Something unreadable flickers across Steve’s face, then he shakes his head.

“Yeah, okay - keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But, we’ve got the time next Thursday - so, come by, don’t come by… I don’t give a shit. Just let me know by the weekend if you are - it’s only protocol, after all, and I know you’re a stickler for that.”

He pulls the headphones back over his ears, turning the volume of the music up a bit.

“Now, if you don’t mind - I’m about to go on-air, and I’d hate for everyone to hear your hissy-fit through the radio waves, you know?”

He returns his attention to the microphone, ready to turn down the music and start speaking - but you’re not giving him the satisfaction of sticking around to watch.

You just huff, crossing your arms and stomping out with even more fury than you came.

Your drive home is full of frustration that grows to rage. You grumble under your breath over the hum of the radio, cursing Steve Harrington’s name at every red light, every sharp turn. It’s only when you pull up to your apartment and park that you realize what’s even playing through the car’s speakers.

It’s WAMC - what else would you have on? You always have your radio tuned to 98.9, doing your best to listen to your friends and support the station you hold so dearly. But, of course, the person on the air right now is him.

You had taken a personal vow a while ago to not tune into Steve’s show. You know it’s stupid - one listener doesn’t make a difference, and you know Steve Harrington certainly doesn't have trouble sleeping at night knowing that you don’t listen to whatever crappy music he plays over the air. But, he’s driving you crazy - he’s so arrogant, so smug, and everyone else eats it up. Nobody dislikes Steve Harrington… it seems like everyone on campus who knows Steve either is in love with him, or wants to be him. You’ll never understand the hold he has over people.

But, maybe you should try to - it’s only fair to get a sense of what all the fuss is about, you reason. So, you turn up the volume dial, letting the music flow through the stereo and over the din of your still-running engine.

It’s about what you expect - mostly Top 40 hits, some classic rock sprinkled in. It’s not bad, necessarily - just, like nearly any other station you could tune your radio to. It’s not a hard and fast rule to play lesser-known music - it’s just encouraged. But, everyone tunes into Steve’s show, ask him for advice on how to plan a slot… it makes your blood boil.

You tell yourself that you’re only going to listen for a few minutes. When Steve’s voice comes on the air, you roll your eyes - he’s cracking jokes, giving anecdotes about the songs, and unfortunately, he’s nearly charming. You don’t realize a full hour has passed until he signs off. You quickly kill your engine and dart into your apartment, doing your best to try not to dwell on the slight disappointment in the show being over.

Double-booking your radio slot was only the most recent of a string of things Steve had been doing to piss you off - showing up late to meetings (if he even shows up at all), calling out of his radio show, making snide remarks under his breath at the meetings he does show up to… you’re basically doing two jobs at once. Any false promise of civility between you two is a thing of the past. He’s making your life a living Hell - but, you’re not one to back down. Two can play dirty, after all.

******

October

You and Steve spend the next few weeks doing a delicate dance, going back and forth not-so-subtly sabotaging one another. His band tried to book a gig at the local venue, which you conveniently “forgot” to sign off on. He tells incoming freshmen that they don’t need to go through you when applying to be a DJ, causing an enrollment nightmare. You pay Jonathan Byers $20 for the equipment to “break,” only for the two hours that Steve is scheduled to do his radio show. But, throughout it all, you barely actually see one another. It’s nearly a month later that you actually encounter him again.

The moment you set foot in the vinyl library, you groan. He looks up from where he’s perusing the records on the shelves, grinning as soon as he locks eyes with you.

“Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart.”

Fuck off, you think.

“Hey, Harrington,” you say, exhibiting what you consider to be an exorbitant amount of restraint. After your blowup last time, the last thing you need is to continue to give him the satisfaction of having the upper hand.

You march straight ahead, going right to the shelf next to him. You pointedly stare forward, running your fingers along the spines of the albums, pulling out the ones you’re looking for as you find them.

You hear Steve scoff next to you, and you roll your eyes - practically an involuntary response with him at this point.

“Do you have a problem?” you asked, your tone biting.

He just shrugs. “No. You’re just… predictable.”

“How so?”

“If you asked me to come in here, and pick out the records for your radio show for you… it’d just be too easy. Let me guess… The Smiths… Talking Heads… R.E.M…Sonic Youth…and some European band whose name I can’t pronounce, probably. Am I close?”

You clutched the records close to your chest, arms crossing to obscure them.

Steve just grins smugly.

You hold your place, not breaking eye contact. He simply shrugs, tongue pushed to the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

Pleased with himself. Too cocky. A challenge.

“That’s what I thought.”

You straightened up, keeping eye contact.

“You act as if you’re any better, with your Worst 40 bullshit -”

“You only pretend to not like it to be different -”

“I don’t pretend to not like your music! I’m just trying to make us sound different from any other station people tune into -”

“So you do listen to my show?” he asks. He’s still wearing that shit-eating grin, but for just a moment, you swear he sounds surprised.

You open and close your mouth a few times, debating what to say. You’ve been caught. And he’s just staring at you, so blatantly self-satisfied, that you want to punch him.

“Shut up,” you say quietly.

“You gonna make me?” he asks.

You feel your face heat. The vinyl library is too cramped, its narrow walls making Steve stand just a bit too close to you. You swallow, straightening up a bit. He’s blocking the only exit, a habit he seems to reserve especially for you.

“Can you let me leave, Harrington? Or do I have to answer a riddle or something first?”

“I’m having a party on Friday,” he blurts out. “You should stop by. Everyone else from the station is coming.”

You shake your head.

“Um - I don’t think -”

“C’mon, sweetheart - show me that you know how to have a little fun!”

You shrug.

“Maybe. Whatever, I’ll see.”

He grins. “Okay - 36 Hamilton Street, by the way. Friday night, 10pm.”

Then he’s gone, leaving you alone in the darkness of the record library. You try to ignore how fast your heart is beating in his wake.

Fucking Steve Harrington.

author's note: Hi everyone! Here's the first part of a brand new fic - ta da! In general, I think the plan for this fic is to have shorter chapters, but more total chapters, so the word count will be... whatever it ends up being. Keep in mind that there will be smut down the line, so only engage is 18+, please. Likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated! Also, this was barely edited, so if you see a mistake... no you didn't.

#steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington fanfic #enemies to lovers #steve harrington enemies to lovers #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington/reader smut #steve harrington x you #put on your records fic

473 notes · View notes

headkiss · 2 years

Text

are we more?

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: using the prompts “‘don’t go on that date’ ‘why’ ‘you know why’ ‘tell me’” “i think i’m in love with you and i’m terrified” for the longest time you thought steve was an asshole, but one date changes that.

word count: 4.4k

warnings: a terrible date (he gets really touchy but nothing happens), and fluff!!

a/n: sorry this one took me so long, but it’s finally here!!! i’m not the happiest w it but it’s taken forever and i hope u guys enjoy it <33

༄

Working at Family Video wasn’t all that bad. It certainly got better when Robin and—though you’d never tell anyone—Steve joined the staff.

Keith was quite the character, but as a manager, he was mostly chill. He didn’t really care what went on in the store as long as it was still running. But, when you were working there with only him, it got boring, and sometimes weird. Having more people your age there really was great, even if you weren’t one of their biggest fans.

It’s not that you disliked Steve, per say, it’s just that he got on your nerves in such a unique way and you couldn’t stand it. He was an absolute asshole in school, too, which didn’t help his case. You put up with him the best you could, because you enjoyed Robin’s company so much.

She quickly became a really close friend to you, brightening your days when you shared a shift. It was just unfortunate that Steve Harrington came along with that.

You couldn’t deny the boy was pretty, the prettiest ever, probably, but that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. He was a dork, a huge flirt, and he teased you relentlessly. You gave it right back, and still, he never gave up.

You sighed when he walked into the store for his shift.

“Hey, babe! How’s it goin’ today?”

“Great until you got here, Harrington.”

“Ouch! You wound me, princess.”

“Would you stop calling me that?”

“No! It gets you all flustered and mad.”

God, he was so aggravating.

Steve loved to bother you, loved to have your attention on him even if it wasn’t positive. He didn’t know exactly why you hated him, and he wanted to change it so badly, but he didn’t know how. You were a stubborn person, and no matter what he tried, you still rolled your eyes at the sight of him. So, instead of pouting about it, he forced his way under your skin.

From his place leaning on the counter, he observed you as you restocked shelves. He liked watching the stretch of your arm when you had to put something on the top shelf, the way your hair fell around your face when you bent to a lower shelf. He liked you, really. Robin would tease him for it constantly; having a crush on someone who couldn’t stand him was very Steve of him.

When you finished unloading the box, you walked over to where Steve stood behind the counter. You perched yourself on the small stool near the computer, sighing in boredom and drawing Steve’s attention over to you once more. He didn’t say anything, only eyed you softly, and you took notice.

“What are you looking at?”

“You. Duh.”

“Can you not.”

He’s about to reply, to egg you on, when the bell above the door rings signaling the entrance of a customer. She’s young, about your age, and Steve walks around the counter, saying a quick, ‘duty calls!’

You roll your eyes because you know he’s just going to flirt with her, that he’s just going to get himself another date that won’t work out. You ignore the small punch in your gut at the thought, the irritation you feel at the image of him bringing her flowers and driving her around in his BMW. You hate that image.

He doesn’t notice when the bell rings once again, too busy with his conversation. You notice, though, because the person walking in is Ryan. He was in school with you and Steve, and lately, he’s been trying to get you to agree to go out with him.

“Hey, y/n.”

“Ryan, how can I help you?”

“Well I’m not looking to rent a movie. I’m looking for a date to go see a movie.”

“Are you ever gonna quit?”

“Nope. What do you say? Tonight?”

You spare a glance back at Steve and the customer he has giggling, she’s pretty, you think. There’s that pinch in your gut again and you decide, yes, this time you will agree to go on a date.

“Okay. Fine.”

“Cool. See ya.”

Then, he was walking out.

You felt weird about saying yes, no excitement, no giddiness. But, when you saw Steve ushering the customer out with a hand on her back, you felt better about it.

By the time Family Video was closed and you and Steve were finishing up, you were eager to get out of there, to leave and get your date over with. He noticed your picked up pace, the way you moved quicker than usual.

“What’s with the fire under your ass, princess? Wanna get away from me that badly?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I have a date to go get ready for.”

You don’t know why you told him. It could be because you had to tell someone, or because you wanted him to hear about your plans for once. He’s always mentioning his dates, rubbing it in your face, even. So, it’s quite possible you wanted to get his reaction for once, a taste of his own medicine.

“Really? With who?”

He didn’t mean to sound so shocked, but he hadn’t seen you entertain any flirtatious advances, let alone agree to going out with someone. He was surprised, and, yeah, he was jealous. He wanted to take you out, to pick you up with flowers and compliment you right away. But, he knew better than to hope for that.

“Is it really so hard to believe I’d go out with someone?”

“No! No, I’m just taking it in. Who is it?”

“Ryan.”

“Absolutely not. He’s an asshole, seriously.”

“So were you.”

Were. Like you were finally admitting to having seen the change in him since school. For as much shit as you gave him about ‘King Steve,’ you weren’t blind, you knew he was different. But, that didn’t erase his actions. Not for you.

“I know that. But he still is!”

“Whatever, Steve. I’m gonna go now.”

The date was going horribly.

Ryan took you to the movies, which wasn’t bad, but his car was messy and he drove a little too recklessly for your taste. You were tense the whole drive, hands gripping the sides of your seat, deep breaths puffing out of your mouth.

Then, he made you pay for the tickets, even though he’s the one who asked you out because ‘you’re a working lady!’ and stuff like that. The last thing you wanted was for Steve to be right, but he was.

Ryan was still an asshole.

You were kind of grateful he’d chosen the movies, because it meant less talking and getting to eat popcorn. You could put up with that and pretend it went just great when Steve inevitably asked you about it tomorrow. No worries.

As you walked up the steps to your seats, Ryan behind you, no doubt looking at your ass, you were trying to force yourself to have a good time. To really try to have fun even if it wasn’t an ideal situation. Ryan couldn’t be that bad, you could handle him.

You didn’t see it when your date high fived a random guy in the theatre for being there with you.

As the movie went on, Ryan kept trying to hold your hand, to put his arm around you. You weren’t a fan and he clearly wasn’t taking the hint. At some point, you thought he’d finally given up, that he’d just leave it alone.

Unfortunately, you were wrong.

One second, you were just eating popcorn with an annoying date next to you, the next, he was putting his hand on your thigh. You tried shaking your leg to get him to take it off, and it didn’t work. You were getting uncomfortable, so you stood up quickly and muttered a quick excuse that you were going to the bathroom.

He waved you off.

Your heart was beating quickly as you made your way out of the screening room. You needed a way out of this date and you needed it now. You paced in the hallway of the theatre, deserted and warmly lit. Before you could even think about a plan, Ryan was there, grabbing your wrist too tightly.

“Got lost on the way to the bathroom there?”

“No. I actually have to go.”

His grip tightened on you when you tried to walk away, fingertips pushing into the delicate skin of your wrist, bruising and painful.

“You sure about that?”

“Ryan, let go. That hurts.”

“You’ve been teasing me all night. Wearing a fucking skirt and you want to leave?”

“What?”

He threw your wrist out of his grasp, and you massaged the area he’d been holding with your other hand. You knew he was an asshole but you never expected it to be this bad. Your hands were shaking and your breaths weren’t steady. You needed to leave.

“Fucking bitch. You can walk home.”

He stormed off after that, getting in his car and driving off. You watched him go through the glass doors of the theatre. At first, you were one hundred percent happy he was gone, then you remembered you didn’t have a way home anymore and the walk would take you eternity.

The only number that came to your mind was Steve’s, which was odd considering you never used it before. You only knew what it was because of work, having to know all of your coworkers contact information was annoying, but you supposed it worked out for you in the end.

You found the nearest pay phone, shaky hands inserting a coin and dialing Steve’s number. Sighing as you heard the dial tone, cursing yourself for calling him when the phone started ringing. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he wasn’t home, but you didn't need to because he picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Steve?”

He was shocked to be hearing your voice on the other side of the phone. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him why you would be calling him. Didn’t you hate him? Or was he wrong about that? His mind was reeling all because of a phone call from you. Maybe he felt something for you that was stronger than like.

He was snapped out of it when you said his name again, quiet and barely there, but he heard it.

“Yeah. Hi. It’s me. Why are you calling? You never call.”

“I know… I just, um, I didn’t know who else to call. I need a ride. Please?”

He noticed the way your voice cracked, the way you had to pause between words like you were trying not to cry. He racked his brain trying to remember where he put his keys.

“Are you okay, princess?”

“Guess you were right. Ryan’s still an asshole. Can you come get me?”

He was standing before you even finished the question. He’d do anything for you.

“Where are you?”

You told him, and he hung up with a promise of being there soon.

You all but ran to Steve’s BMW when he arrived, eager to escape the nightmare that was this night. You were so relieved to see him for once and your mind was too frazzled to think about that.

He unlocked the doors for you as soon as he saw you stand from your seat on the curb. He went as far as leaning over the console to open the passenger door for you, giving you the quickest way into his car.

Your mood was evident as soon as you took your spot in the passenger seat. Your leg immediately bouncing up and down, hands fidgeting with the hem of your clothes. Being calm was not happening for you, still on edge from being grabbed and talked down to the way you were.

“Want me to take you home?”

Steve spoke in an almost-whisper. It was like he didn’t want to scare you, to cause you any amount of distress. He could tell that you were anxious, uncomfortable about what happened. He wanted to take it away so badly.

“Yeah. Thanks, Steve.”

Your voice was small, shaky. Your eyes seemed to be permanently teary and the last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of Steve. Over a date.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He spared a quick glance over at you as he drove. He noticed the way your bottom lip was wobbling, the way your eyes were squeezed shut so you wouldn’t cry. The car was pulling over before he even realized. The boy just wanted to comfort you, and he couldn’t do that if he was focused on driving.

“Hey, princess. It’s okay. You’re okay. Talk to me.”

“You probably think I’m so stupid.”

The tears were falling now, and you couldn’t stop them. You just felt like an idiot, like you deserved everything Ryan said to you. You felt gross and dirty and all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball on your bed and sob.

“Look at me. I do not think you’re stupid. What happened, sweetheart?”

“He, um, he kept trying to put his hands on me and stuff and-”

“Did he hurt you? Oh my god.”

“Steve. No, nothing happened. He just grabbed my wrist kinda tight and said some stuff and it was humiliating.”

“Your wrist? Can I see?”

You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand before holding it out to Steve, letting him hold your forearm in his gentle grasp.

“Shit. He left bruises.”

“I’m fine.”

He shook his head, a small frown on his face at the image of fucking Ryan hurting you. Steve brought your wrist up to his mouth, kissing your marked skin so lightly you almost missed it.

“You don’t deserve anything he did or said to you, okay? None of it. You’re a great girl.”

He was so soft with you at this moment, so caring and it was like your whole view on him just shifted. All this time you thought he was this egotistical ass, you were too distracted by the banter between the two of you to see how good he was. Maybe the irritation was something else, buried under the false pretence of dislike when in reality he made you smile. He made you think about him constantly.

You get jealous when he gets dates, for fucks sake.

“I’m sorry I’m so mean to you, Steve.”

You felt awful because of it. He deserved more than what you were, better than how you treated him. All this time this pretty, sweet boy was right in front of you and you couldn’t stop teasing him long enough to see that.

You were crying more now, the tears a constant stream down your face leaving small tracks in your makeup.

“Hey. Shhh. No, stop that. It’s okay, listen to me,” he was holding your face in his hands, thumbs swiping at the wetness on your cheeks. He forced you to look at him with his hold on your face, your sad eyes blinking up at him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Stop, sweet girl. You’re not mean to me, okay? It’s okay. Do you want me to take you home now?”

He was so shocked at the apology you gave him, the genuine sadness he could see all over your features at the idea of hurting him even after the awful night you had.

“Okay.”

“Okay, I’ll drive you home. Please stop crying.”

“I’m sorry. Thank you for getting me.”

“You call me anytime you need to. I’m there.”

As he drove the rest of the way home, your small sniffles breaking the silence in the car, he couldn’t help but think about what you said. The fact that you were taken on this awful date and that wasn’t even what you were the most upset about was killing him. He wanted to hold you and never let go.

He loved you. He knew that now. And you called him when you needed someone.

You called him. Not Robin, not anyone else. Him. That had to mean something.

You and Steve were both working the next day, which was going to be awkward.

You cried in front of him. He wiped your tears away and cared for you while you were hurting even after everything.

You did a lot of reflecting last night, after showering off the disgusting feeling of Ryan lingering on you. You realized that all this time, you didn’t actually harbour negative feelings towards Steve, only to the person you once knew him to be.

As soon as you opened your eyes to who he is now, to how you felt when he was around, you realized you liked him. A lot. Maybe more than liked, even, and it was scary.

The decision you made to show up way too early for work paid off because Robin was there, and she’s exactly who you needed to talk to. She was confused to see you an hour before yours and Steve’s shift started, but she welcomed you all the same.

“Hey! Why are you here so early?”

“I really need to talk to you and you can’t say anything until I’m done, okay?”

“Okay, shutting up now!”

“So last night I went on the worst date ever, it was awful and I freaked out and called Steve to come get me because Ryan left me there-”

“Why would you go out with Ryan?”

“Robin!”

“Sorry! I’m actually shutting up this time.”

“So Steve took me home and I cried in front of him in the car. He literally had to pull over and he wiped my tears and stuff. I’m just so confused because I thought I didn’t like him but I was so wrong. So, so wrong. I really like him, I think I love him and I’m freaking out.”

She just stared at you blankly, absorbing everything you just said and making sure you were done talking before she responded. When you simply nodded at her to let her know she could reply, you were surprised with all she had to say.

“Finally!”

“What?”

“You two have had feelings for each other for so long it’s been driving me insane! I mean, seriously, all the teasing and glances. You’re so oblivious to it all, seriously.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!”

“Tell you how you feel? Come on! Steve’s liked you forever, too. Can't you just suck it up and tell him?”

“No! I’ve been so mean to him and why would he want that around him? He’ll never believe me or want to be with me.”

“God, you two are so annoying.”

“Robin!”

You couldn’t believe the idea that Steve liked you a fraction of how much you recently discovered you liked him. After everything you’ve said, everything you put him through, how could he?

You and Robin changed the subject after that, deciding that it was better for you to just think about what was said and what you wanted to do from there. The rest of the time before your shift flew by, and before you knew it, Steve was walking through the door to get to work.

Mostly to see you, though.

Steve’s mind was reeling ever since last night. Thoughts about you, wondering if you were okay, analyzing everything that was said. He couldn’t stop thinking about how you cried, how you let him hold you and how you apologized to him even though he didn’t need it. He was already in love with you, sorry or not.

He decided he would tell you how he felt sometime soon. The time was wasting and after everything he’d been through he couldn’t imagine letting it keep ticking by without trying.

As soon as you heard the bell above the door ring signaling Steve’s entrance, you looked over. His eyes locked onto yours and the seconds seemed to slow then. The world pausing for the two of you.

Robin noticed the moment. She just rolled her eyes and excused herself saying, “that’s my cue!”

You both snapped out of it when she called out a ‘bye lovebirds!’ before walking out of the store, leaving you alone with Steve. He walked behind the counter, leaning on it beside you.

“Hi, princess. How you doing?”

“Steve, I’m okay. Thank you, again. I’m really sorry I made you come get me… and that I cried. That was really embarrassing.”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m here for you, I mean it.”

“But, I’ve been rude to you.. judged you because of high school. I just feel awful. I don’t deserve your kindness.”

He hated how sad you looked over his feelings. You were the one who had an awful, scary night. Not him. The boy wanted you to be okay, to forgive yourself because he forgave you the second your gaze softened towards him.

“Stop it. You deserve everything good. Everything. I’m gonna go put these returns back, okay? Stop beating yourself up. We’re okay.”

He touched your arm softly as he passed, the small brush of his hand sending waves through you. Mind, body, and soul. He affected you and you wanted him. You loved him.

You never thought you would be one to call for Steve Harrington, but here you were. You had probably been falling for months now, never even knowing it. This was crazy.

To make everything even crazier, the next time the bell above the door rang, it was none other than Ryan. Your nightmare date. Absolute asshole. You were not ready to deal with him.

“y/n. Hey.”

“Go away Ryan.”

Steve was in the back now, organizing movies and trying to give you space. He didn’t hear the bell jingle and he didn’t know who was out there. If he did, he’d have some choice words and maybe even a punch to give.

“Come on. Let me make it up to you.”

“No. Please leave.”

Your eyes were searching around the store for Steve, for an escape from this guy and this conversation. You couldn’t see him, though. All you could do was hope that he would come back soon, that some kind of intuition would lead him to find you.

“Babe, seriously. One date and I’ll prove to you last night was a fluke.”

“Don’t call me ‘babe’ and stop asking me out. No.”

“Such a bitch.”

Steve chose that moment to walk out of the back room, brows furrowing at the sight of fucking Ryan talking to you. He could tell you weren’t having it, that you weren’t comfortable with it. Your hands were fidgeting, shaking.

“I think she told you to leave.”

“Steve Harrington! A hero!”

“Get the fuck out, Ryan. Seriously.”

Steve was talking slowly, menacingly. His voice a demand that you’d never heard come from him before. He was always soft, light, and right now he was anything but.

“Jesus, Steve, you really fell off since school.”

“No, I’m better now, thanks. You can leave now.”

You stood watching the two of them, not able to utter a word. You were nervous to see what would happen, hoping that Ryan would just leave and no punches would be thrown. As much as he deserved one.

“Whatever,” Ryan turned to you then, eyes scanning you up and down in anger, disgust. “You’re lucky King Steve was here to save you. You’re a fucking bore anyways. Bye.”

You let out a breath after he left, one of relief and shock. What the fuck. Steve defended you. Ryan came back and was just as horrible as you remembered. Why was this all happening to you? There was so much confusion and self-doubt running through your head.

“Hey, sweet girl. What happened before I showed up?”

“He tried to get me to go out with him again. Redemption or something.”

“Fuck that. Don’t go on that date.”

The atmosphere seemed to shift. You were standing really close together. When did that happen? Steve was holding both of your hands in his, stopping your nervous fiddling and soothing you. He looked all over your face, eyes scanning and sweet and captivating as ever.

“Steve…”

“Don’t go.”

“I wasn’t going to. But why? What’s it to you.”

“You know why. Don’t make me say it. Please.”

Was this really happening? Were things about to be confessed in the dingy space that was Family Video? You really hoped it was. That you weren’t dreaming some kind of crazy realistic dream. Because Steve was the most real you’d ever seen him now.

His eyes pleading with you, trying to find any sign that you would relent, let him save his words to himself. It was too early. He still didn’t know if you felt the same, and no matter what he convinced himself earlier, he was scared. So scared to admit his emotions.

You let go of one of his hands to push his hair off of his forehead, “tell me.”

“Fuck. I can’t.”

“Steve. Tell me.”

Your hand grasped his face, coaxing him to keep his eyes on yours. To see how serious you were. You wanted to hear this and you wanted to say it back. All this considering he was going to say what you thought he was.

“I’m in love with you and I'm terrified. I’m so scared because for a long time I was convinced you could never feel the same and then last night you called me. You called me, and all I wanted to do was hold you and kiss you and make sure you were okay and I still do. I still do and I’m scared. I don’t deserve you, I don’t think I ever could-”

You cut him off by kissing him, too overwhelmed with everything he said to say anything back before pulling him into you. Steve reciprocated right away, his free hand wrapping around your waist to hold you as close as possible.

He was dreaming. He had to be. His dream girl, kissing him. You were perfect, and he was kissing you.

You pulled away after a bit, needing to say it back.

“I love you, Steve. I’m so sorry for how long I’ve been blind, I haven’t been fair to you and I want to fix it. But I love you, and I want you to let me prove that to you.”

“Maybe you can just kiss me again? Think that’ll work.”

You did, impossibly grateful that it was a quiet day in Family Video. You supposed you should be grateful for this job. It ultimately brought you and Steve together.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington requests #steve harrington one shot

2K notes · View notes

astermath · 1 year

Text

first kiss:･ﾟ☆

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: you share your first kiss with steve.

word count: 0.8K

notes: wrote this as a little drabble for @ghostlyfleur , I really hope you feel better soon! just know that your fics have made me feel better before for sure, so I had to return the favor <3 (not rlly proofread sorry lol) normal size font below!!

You had to admit, you were a bit hesitant when Steve Harrington first asked you out.

You were well aware of his reputation as King Steve, and apparently, he was too, as he was quick to deny any premeditations you had about him.

“I promise, I’ll make it nice, I’ll put my whole heart into it.” He’d said, and though you were skeptical, even you couldn’t say no to a smile that cute.

And he definitely delivered on his promise. He’d personally picked you up and drove you two to your picnic spot. You were happy to hear it wasn’t Lover’s Lake, a spot as infamous as himself, but rather a nice little flower field away from the town. You weren’t sure if you were even allowed to picnic there, but knowing Steve, he probably didn’t care. He knew you weren’t big on public and crowded places, you were a bit shy after all, so he’d carefully picked a spot he knew you wouldn’t be bothered.

He’d really pulled out all the stops on this one. Bought your favorite soda (he asked one of your friends what it was), brought his own plush blanket and even went out his way to cook some pasta to enjoy together. All in all, you were impressed.

The two of you were seated next to each other, shoulders touching as you looked up into the night sky. You were pointing out constellations to him, another one of your interests that he loved hearing about. And as much as he tried to pay attention to your adorable rambling, his eyes got caught on your face anyways.

He always thought it was cheesy, the way they described how girls looked in the moonlight. How their skin would glow a different way, how their eyes would twinkle and reflect the ocean of stars above...

He never knew how accurate it really was.

When you’d turned your head, you were met with just about the most lovestruck, dopey grin a guy could have on his face.

“What?” You asked, a little embarrassed about his staring.

“Nothing,” he reached out, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, “I like stars and all, but...” he leaned in closer, and you felt your body tense up, “I prefer this view a lot more.”

You closed your eyes in preparation, not sure what to expect other than the feeling of lips on yours.

You always thought it was cheesy, the way first kisses were described in books. How fireworks would go off in your stomach, how your entire body would warm up from the contact, how you’d magnetically be drawn closer to one another...

You never knew how accurate it really was.

You melted into it, lips slotting together like it was always meant to be like this, you and Steve under the night sky. He tilted his head slightly, and you followed his lead, unsure of what else you really should be doing other than just enjoy the moment. You would have been nervous, if your mind hadn’t already ran blank.

He pulled away after what felt like, or should have been, forever. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his, and his thumb moved gently over the skin on your cheek.

The realization of what had just happened hit you like a freight train, your face heating up significantly and your eyes widening. You tried to hold back the giggle that bubbled in your throat, to no avail, and you moved a hand to cover your mouth.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” He pretended to be offended at your sudden giggle fit, although he thought no one could possibly be hurt at the beautiful sound of your laughter.

“N-Nothing, nothing, it’s just--” You removed your hand, revealing a shy smile. “That uhm... That was my first kiss.” You were a little embarrassed to admit it, for sure, but it was less bad to say it after it happened.

“Wow...” Steve just looked at you for a moment, taking in the reality that a girl as gorgeous as you hadn’t kissed anyone yet. A sense of pride overtook him for a moment, but he pushed it down. He wasn’t that guy anymore, this wasn’t something he took from you, it was something you shared. “So like, ever?”

Your mind ran back the memories of other dates you’d been on, all quite disappointing in comparison to what Steve had presented you with. None of them involved a kiss. Even if they did, you were sure they would have given you nothing close to the feeling you just got.

“Yep,” you smiled awkwardly, “like, ever.”

“Damn.” Steve breathed out, still a little dumbfounded by the fact. “Well, can I have your second too?”

He’d earned another giggle from you, one that made his heart flutter all the same. “You could have all my kisses if it were up to me.”

“Good,” He leaned in once more, “I planned on it.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #stevemath #aster writes stranger things #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fan fiction #steve harrington #steve stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fan fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things steve

410 notes · View notes

skepsiss · 8 months

Text

Tooth and Nail -pt1- Steddie

You asked for it @strangersteddierthings it uhh...... hurts a lot at the end. Probably have to do a part 2... or more.

Uuhh, it's kinda sad guys. Prompt was to write something where Eddie is the one that is in denial about his queer-ness and Steve is the one who makes him question his sexual identity. Full request here.

14A ish rating. TW: Miscommunication, denial, mild homophobia, suggestion of past trauma (child abuse), use of drugs (weed), mild physical aggression, the f-slur (not spoken to anyone), self-hatred.

PT1 PT2 PT3

---

Eddie Munson was a freak. He’d been labeled as such since he was a little boy with a teen mom who ended up marrying the asshole who got her pregnant. He was a freak when his mother left and a freak when his father went to jail; how no boy who lived that kind of life was normal by any stretch of the word.

It only got worse from there as he got older. A freak for being poor, a freak for having long hair, being a nerd, a metalhead, trailer-trash, drop out–the list went on and on. Eddie had also gotten good at being a freak. He got good at wearing it like armor so people were scared of him instead of just judgemental. He wanted those insults said to his face, not whispered behind his back and no way in hell was he going to take it lying down. It didn’t make things easy, but it was how you coped.

So, why? Why would he give himself another reason to be labeled a freak?

Eddie would fight tooth and nail for any freak or weirdo he managed to befriend. It didn’t matter if you were fat, ugly, smart, dorky, a boy or a girl. It didn’t matter what blend or flavour you happened to be–even if Eddie was partial to the nerds and musicians–you were family as soon as you walked into Hawkins High. Once you were a freak you stayed a freak and it came with Eddie Munson as a perk.

As long as he lived. As long as he was in Hawkins.

It wasn’t surprising to Eddie when he found out Will Byers was gay. He had seen it on him as soon as the boy’s missing poster went up and the subsequent reunion happened. He had never really gotten to know Jonathan–he was a weirdo, but not one that apparently liked Eddie’s flavour–but he, much like the rest of Hawkins, had breathed a sigh of relief was Will was delivered home. It was under weird circumstances and Eddie didn’t know much about middle schoolers, but he knew a freak when he saw one. Will was a nerd and he was gay which meant he was premo-meat to be fried by the masses.

If they were in school, if Will came back to Hawkins and Eddie was there he would have fought for him. It didn’t matter if he was gay because freaks and weirdos stuck together no matter the flavour. So when he found out Robin was gay he felt much the same. He didn’t have anything against queer folk and honestly, he saw them as being in a similar boat as him. He’d embrace someone who was gay way before he’d embrace someone who was Christian–even though he was neither of those things.

Eddie had no love for the church and apparently, all the ‘f-words’ were all damned to hell so they might as well make it a party. Seemed like all the interesting people were hell-bound.

Their little collective. Family. A regular bunch of Addams.

So, why would he give himself another reason to be labeled a freak?

Eddie had been called everything under the sun as far as insults went. He was no stranger to ’bigot’ or ’devil’, ’sinner’ or ’faggot’. You learned not to react or give them a reason to keep poking. You learned not to take it seriously or let it chink your armor. None of it had to be true and denying it wouldn’t help, you just learned to _ignore_ it and tell yourself that they didn’t know you and their insults didn’t mean anything. Surround yourself with people that either love you or respect you and you’re golden. Listen to them, take their opinions, be yourself, and embrace your flavour.

When Steve came out as queer though, Eddie had no clue what to do. The idea that he would claim that label was beyond Eddie’s understanding especially since he hadn’t seen that confession coming from Steve of all people. He was a weirdo by proxy but… No, the thing that really bothered Eddie about that was his reaction. When he found out Robin and Will were as gay as they came he had gone out of his way to make sure they knew he didn’t have a problem with it. He made sure they felt like they were family and if everyone else ditched Eddie wouldn’t.

Tooth and nail. Tooth and nail.

But when Steve came out? Eddie had been shocked, for one thing, and secondly, he had felt his stomach drop out. Panic had flooded him and he was thankful that he wasn’t the only one in the room when it was said.

He had put an arm around Will and jostled him affectionately. He had cracked a joke and smiled at Robin before privately telling her that if she needed anything he was there. He had felt those reactions so naturally almost as if Will and Robin were just telling them all what college they’d be going to. Cool, doesn’t change a thing. Let me know if you need any help with stuff. Easy. Steve though? Steve…

While everyone else in their casual setting seemed to be nodding or not making a fuss–most of them used to this kind of thing by now–Eddie sat there petrified. What did he say? What did he do? Steve wasn’t some kid Eddie could rib and force into an affectionate headlock. He wasn’t a chick he could pretend to posture for so she felt like he had her back. He was… Steve.

Eddie had left that night feeling out of sorts. He hadn’t spoken to Steve and his subdued interaction was pointed out by anyone, but Eddie hadn’t left their little gathering feeling subdued at all. Outwardly maybe, but internally his mind had been locked in place over Steve saying I think I’m bisexual.

Okay… so what? Same as anyone else, right? Queer, whatever–certified freak, cool–so why was he twisted up about it?

Eddie had been spending a lot of time with Steve over the last few months and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he actually liked his company. Steve was sarcastic and charming and a little bit of a bitch but it just made joking around with him easier. Once they had bridged the gap between ‘nerd shit’ and ‘jock shit’ it became easy to spend time with Steve. Eddie had watched Steve relax around him which literally looked like his body relaxing. You wouldn’t know it right away, but Steve was tense when he wasn’t comfortable around you: arms crossed, brows pinched, shoulders tight, jaw locked, and stance controlled. All of that fell away once he settled down and it was easy to be around him then. Eddie had actually enjoyed seeing the process of Steve relaxing around him as they played the NES with Dustin or sat outside and shared a joint without the rest of the goodies-goodies knowing.

He enjoyed Steve’s company, so what was he worried about? Was he scared Steve would come onto him? That was presumptuous of him and probably rude. He wasn’t scared of Will getting a crush on him or any other obviously gay guy he had seen at shows and bars. He’d even turned guys down which always seemed to embarrass them a bit and Eddie hated that he saw a flash of fear in their eyes when he told them he was straight. He always made sure to end the conversation with It’s cool, man. Don’t worry about it and then smile to show he meant no harm.

He liked queer folk. They were family. Why was Steve different?

Eddie’s brain was stuck in fast-forward all night once he got home. He hated it when his brain did that to him. Every image flashed through his brain at supersonic speed and he couldn’t focus on anything. It was exhausting and frustrating and it literally felt like his mind was racing. The only thing that helped was imagining the sprawling darkness of space and slowly… very slowly… adding little pinpricks of light to the image. He had to force himself to slow down and from the outside, he knew it looked like he wasn’t doing anything. It looked like he was being lazy, but in reality, all the energy he usually exuded had just become internalized.

He’d tell Steve it was fine. He’d made sure Steve knew he always had his support. That was what he was supposed to do. That was what he did for everyone else.

But when it happened–when he got his chance to have an aside with Steve–his gut had pulled and his tongue had gotten caught between his teeth. It happened the second time he tried too, and the third, and the fourth–each time he tried to talk to Steve one-on-one he clammed up. It was maddening really and Eddie had started to notice that Steve was suspicious of him–and not in a good way.

The fifth time was different. The fifth time was worse.

They had all been celebrating Max’s return home and as the kids got loud and the sun set it felt like one of those nights where Eddie just didn’t have the energy to be around this many people. He loved socializing–he loved the party–but sometimes it just became too much he could feel his mind drifting away from the scene.

Eddie had started his drift before looking up and catching Steve’s eye across the room. He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and as he flicked his gaze up he slowly raised his hand to his mouth and mimed smoking. It didn’t take a genius to know what that meant and Eddie raised his brow in agreement before slinking away.

“I don’t have any on me,” Eddie explained as they stepped out into the dark, “but I’ve got some at home.”

His trailer was only a stone’s throw away from Max’s place so it wasn’t really a big deal. Weed sounded like a good idea too; he could smoke and bring him back to earth and maybe it would settle his nerves enough to properly talk to Steve. He _wanted_ to talk to Steve.

“We going to smoke here?” Steve asked as he followed Eddie inside the trailer. Wayne was out and Eddie didn’t have any qualms about Steve coming over to his place.

“Sure, might as well so the impressionable young children,” Eddie mocked, using a stuffy, posh voice, “don’t get tempted by our bad influence.”

He snickered as he touched his own chest, extending his hand skyward and acting as if he were delivering a Shakespearean speech.

“Ms. Languard, is that you?” Steve mocked back, shoving Eddie’s shoulder so he’d continue his walk towards his bedroom.

Eddie laughed again and stumbled down the hall, glad that they could at least joke around with each other still. Yeah, he’d smoke and then he’d properly let Steve know that being queer was cool with him and that they were blood-bonded for life already having survived a demonic war together. Steve would call him dramatic and they’d laugh over it and then things could go back to normal.

Eddie had found one of his baggies of weed after tossing the laundry on his floor about the room for a few minutes before finally getting his stuff together so he could roll them a joint. The buds had been bitter and Eddie had jokingly apologized before hanging the blunt over to Steve to smoke. He had coughed and gagged at the flavour and Eddie had called him a pussy in good humour. Normal. They were acting normal.

As the weed seeped in they got quieter though and Eddie felt himself drifting again as he sat on the foot of his bed. Steve was standing by the window so he could blow the smoke outside even though Eddie didn’t care about the smell. It was polite and Eddie could appreciate that at least.

“You okay?” Steve asked as Eddie caught himself staring blankly at the ground, knees tucked up to his chest.

“Oh–yeah, yeah, I’m fine, just thinking,” he admitted, blinking hard and then smiling at Steve. They shared a chuckle and Steve took a step forward to hand the joint over.

“Thinking about anything interesting?” He asked, carefully turning the blunt in his fingers so Eddie could grab it.

“Yeah, I guess so…” Eddie mumbled, taking a moment before finally putting his feet back on the floor and taking the smoke from Steve.

“You gunna share with the class?” Steve asked and Eddie giggled again at that, the joke was not that funny but the weed was getting to him.

It took another moment as Eddie smoked, his attention drifting a bit before he finally answered.

“I was thinking about what you said the other week,” Eddie admitted, trying to let the hold his anxieties had on him fade away. He could just let those fears slip through his fingers and he’d finally be able to say what he had been meaning to say for weeks now. Weed was good for that.

“The other week…” Eddie continued, and he stood slowly to pass the joint. Steve was staring at him with bemusement and confusion, obviously trying to follow along with what Eddie was saying. Eddie could feel that blanket of anxiety that had been wrapped around him slowly lifting. He didn’t have to think about anything, just say what he meant to say and then they’d be back to normal.

“The other week when you uh, when you told everyone you were gay,” Eddie explained, nodding which got a pinched expression from Steve.

“Bisexual–bi,” he corrected, taking the blunt from Eddie and smoking it.

“Yeah, that,” Eddie answered, “it got me thinking about stuff…”

Eddie could feel himself getting distracted as his mind lost its grasp on the words he had been trying to deliver. He understood what he wanted to say–in sentiment–but he was having a hard time forming the words to go along with it. His attention kept on bending and then refocusing on other things that weren’t important. How his hair was tickling his ears a bit, and how bitter the weed tasted on the back of his tongue, and then to his room and how it was probably embarrassing to have Steve here when it was such a mess–he had to refocus on Steve.

“Uh, you, Steve,” Eddie tried, lifting his hand and poking Steve hard in the chest. He just had to drift his brain over to thinking about Steve.

“Yeah… me?” Steve replied, breathing a small laugh.

Eddie smiled, wondering for a moment if he was acting silly and if he was amusing Steve. He liked it when they joked and he had been missing that the last few days. He missed spending time with Steve. He wanted to tell him he accepted him. He wanted to tell Steve he’d always be there. He wanted to put him in a headlock, rib him, posture a little… see him relax… He wanted to see Steve’s posture change, his brows soften, and his mouth unpinch. And then everything would be normal. How they’d just go back to being freaks together.

Yeah, no more anxieties about all this, it was just Steve. It was just Steve.

“Eddie?” Steve asked and Eddie only vaguely registered that he was touching Steve’s face. He looked confused, but he was smiling, and all Eddie could think about was how beautiful his smile was.

The next thing Eddie knew he was stepping forward as if in a slow dance and pushing Steve back towards the wall he had been leaning on. Steve didn’t fight him, but Eddie didn’t have the presence of mind to question what that meant. He was just moving them across the room so he could press flush against Steve and kiss him. The action had been so gentle Eddie had felt like he was dreaming through the whole thing like it wasn’t really him doing it. Steve shuttered under him and Eddie pulled back just far enough so he could see Steve’s expression. His eyes were closed and his brows were pinched together as if something painful had just happened.

They had kissed and Steve was in pain? They had kissed, why would Steve be in pain? They had kissed.

Eddie let go abruptly and stumbled backward as his anxieties plowed back into him.

“Sorry!” He said quickly, sticking his hands up in front of himself.

Steve didn’t move from the wall and as he opened his eyes slowly and a pang of guilt shot through Eddie. He stumbled back again as his knees hit the edge of the bed forcing him to sit down.

“Sorry, sorry–” Eddie offered, laughing now as his fear bubbled up. Why the hell had he done that? What the fuck was he doing?

“Sorry, man, I didn’t mean anything by it, I uh, was just curious.”

That was the reason, right? There probably wasn’t another reason that made sense. He had been high and his brain had just filtered through the possibilities and for some reason, it had settled on a kiss. Fucking weird, but he had never claimed to be normal.

“Curious?” Steve said back slowly as he came out of what seemed like a daze, “you were… curious?”

Eddie felt his throat getting tight and he was desperately trying to swallow the lump that was forming there.

“I was just joking around,” he offered a weak smile and Steve just stared at him. Eddie watched as his expression changed from dazzled confusion to anger.

“What the fuck, man?” Steve bit out sounding insulted. He didn’t sound as angry as Eddie thought, but he did sound upset.

“Sorry, I dunno man, I’m high,” Eddie blurted, speaking to the first excuse that came to mind.

Steve just stared at him before shaking his head in disbelief. His frustration looked like it was building and that in turn was making Eddie shrink back.

“You’re unbelievable…” Steve muttered to himself, as he slowly turned to face his back to Eddie, his hands going to his hip, “unbelievable… what the fuck?”

“Sorry–” Eddie tried once more getting cut off this time as Steve snapped at him.

“Stop apologizing, okay?” He said slicing the air with his hand before settling back down and putting his hand back on his waist.

Eddie shut up and stared as he watched Steve’s shoulder bunch and his posture shift from relaxed to tense.

“Joking around… joking around?” Steve asked, his tone accusatory even though it was level. Eddie just gaped at him, not sure what to say if he wasn’t supposed to apologize anymore. The question seemed like it had been rhetorical anyway.

Eddie watched as Steve touched his own lips, squeezing them sharply as if he were thinking and trying to pull the sensation away from his mouth at the same time.

“So, you were just curious to know–what? What it’s like to kiss a guy? To know if you like guys?” He asked, turning to look at Eddie again but not changing his posture at all.

“I don’t like guys, I’m straight,” Eddie said sharply, his stomach tightening, “I was just…”

Steve’s lip started to curl and Eddie shrunk back further, feeling guilty and embarrassed and ashamed in a way he didn’t know how to communicate. In a way he didn’t want to communicate.

“Just… joking around?” Steve repeated back, his dipping so his delivery lacked emotion. That had stung. That hurt more than Eddie thought it would.

Steve shook his head and raised the joint back to his lips to take a hit.

“Yeah, real funny,” he started to say as he tossed the blunt at Eddie, “a regular riot. Just kiss your buddy Steve. It’s soooo fucking funny that he likes guys.”

Eddie could see that Steve’s cheeks were flushing as his voice hitched slightly. He was keeping it together but his expression was that of a man who had just been betrayed. He looked hurt. It looked like he had just bore his soul and Eddie had laughed in his face. Like he had been cruel for no other reason than to hurt him.

“Steve–” Eddie started, standing up, not sure what to do.

“You’re sorry, I get it,” Steve replied, stepping towards the door and starting to walk away.

“I didn’t mean it like that–” Eddie tried, hurrying after him and grabbing Steve’s shoulder to stop him from leaving. Steve tried to brush him off, but Eddie was determined to hold on.

Steve moved quickly then and it caught Eddie off guard as he grabbed his wrist and whipped around. Steve shoved hard and Eddie stumbled backward until he hit the wall, Steve’s forearm across his chest.

“Don’t–” Steve bit out, sticking his finger aggressively in Eddie’s face, “--fucking touch me.”

His tone was incredibly level but it was obvious that he was holding back real anger. It was easy to forget sometimes that Steve was an athlete. That he could run circles around everyone in the crew and was easily the strongest amongst them under the age of twenty-five. He had survived Russian torture and Eddie had witnessed him using that strength to help the party. Steve was resilient and he was strong… even if he rarely threw a punch.

Eddie was too shocked to react properly and before he knew it Steve had let go of him and stormed out of the trailer. Fear rang Eddie like a bell as he stood there and listened as a car engine turned on and the sound of tires of gravel filtered through the open screendoor. He was shaking, he was sure, his body reacting to old memories and mortified by what had just transpired.

“Fuck…” Eddie mumbled, his throat tight and his lips feeling as if they were glued together.

“Fuck–” he repeated, heaving as he raised his hands to his face and pressed his wrists into his eyes.

“Fuck!” Eddie shouted feeling the tears build as he let his knees buckle under him. He slid down the wall and crumpled, hands still pressed into his eyes as he started to sob openly. He was soothing the memories of that scared child but he was also mourning Steve. It felt bad. Everything felt bad.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Eddie muttered to himself through his tears, his voice thick with phlegm, “what the fuck was that? Why did you do that? You fucking… asshole!”

He was bullying himself, he knew it, but he couldn’t help how upset he was. He was mad at himself for doing something unbelievably stupid and he was frustrated that he was reacting this way to it. But he couldn’t help that it felt like his heart was about to give out as he gasped in breath and his stomach filled with air. He was practically gulping as he forced himself to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. It was like he was a little kid again. But that wasn’t fair–he didn’t get to act this way. He had been the one that had hurt Steve.

“Fuck,” he gagged, leaning over the sink and turning the tap on. A morbid part of him needed to look and see the fear and sorrow on his face so he looked up at the mirror and cringed at his own appearance. His face was red and tears wouldn’t stop flowing from his eyes. His upper lip had gathered snot and his mouth was turned grotesquely into an open frown.

“Stop it,” he swallowed, gritting his teeth as he stared at himself, “you don’t get to do that.”

Eddie gulped in another breath and stood up straight. He closed his eyes and forced his frustration inwards, forcing himself to just get over it.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it,” he mumbled, breathing out slowly as he tried to calm down, “stop it!” He flipped the switch from upset into anger, tears still running down his face but no longer hyperventilating.

“What the fuck was that?” he repeated, dropping his gaze to look at himself in the mirror again, “you–you… you fucking creep. Asshole. What the hell? You’re fucking straight. How the hell are you going to fix this, asshole? Why would you give yourself another reason to be labeled a freak?”

The words stung and Eddie swallowed hard, looking away from the mirror finally. He was calming down even if he didn’t feel better, pushing those emotions inside to deal with later. It was too raw right now, it was too much, he couldn’t do this right now.

Eddie let out a breath through gritted teeth and then moved back to the sink. He turned the water on full blast and then started yanking his rings off. He didn’t care where they fell, but once his hands were bare he cupped them under the water and splashed the cold liquid into his face. He gasped at the sensation and did it again, did it until he had washed all the snot and tears from his face, and then turned the faucet off.

Eddie hung his head over the sink for a long moment, breathing through his mouth as the water streamed off his face. He settled slowly and sucked in one last hard breath and then dried his face off.

“Fucking hell man…” Eddie said quietly, sounding more exasperated than anything now.

He frowned deeply as he walked back into his bedroom. The joint they had been smoking was on the floor at the foot of his bed and it had started to singe a hole into the carpet. Eddie tisked and picked it up before stamping on the burn mark a few times to make sure it didn’t spread.

How the hell was he going to fix this?

Pt2

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #BIG SAD VIBES #I do not endorse the way Eddie deals with his emotions at all #I do not endorse Steve getting kind of physical with Eddie #I get it and I know why both of them do that but it's still bad #understandable but bad #ANYWAAAYYYYSSSSSS ask me to write things

236 notes · View notes

graceloveswolves · 2 years

Text

Dating Bucky Barnes Would Include….

- him noticing you before you noticed him

- he would probably ask Steve about you first in what he thinks in a quiet manner

- Steve sniffing the bs and pulling some strings to make sure you are around him a lot more then usual

- Steve also pretending he needs your help with something and introducing you to Bucky

- Bucky definitely goes to bed thinking about you when he’s not with you

- Smiling to himself whenever he recalls a conversation you two had, even if it was something as simple as how cold the room was or a movie you saw recently

- him just happy to be near you, taking any chance to be by your side when it comes

- he’s quite overprotective but he tries not to show it

- whenever Steve or Sam point it out he will deny it and find some justification regarding your safety

- he also gets a little jealous, but mostly keeps it to himself.

- the king of respect & consent

- totally old school

- will buy you flowers “just because”

- opening any doors around you even with only one arm

- sweet compliments 24/7

- he will force you to dance with him in the kitchen at random hours of the day

- trying to get him to adjust to the new world

- and new music

- he LOVES watching movies with you

- it’s a routine you have, every night a new movie

- you guys also go to your favorite restaurant at least once a week

- pretty much being together more often then not

- Bucky not taking a mission if you guys had plans beforehand, you come first

- Bucky being your ride or die, he’s a very loyal person and wouldn’t put anyone or anything above you

- he will get in a fight if anyone messes with you

- or threatens you

- or talks shit behind your back

- he’s also your unofficial protector

- he will protect you from things you didn’t even know you needed protecting from

- also, gifting you a kitty on your anniversary

- he wanted to give you something meaningful and he knew how much you loved Alpine and it was a good start at a little family

- he would make sure you both were ready for another kitty though

- sometimes you guys would have sleepless nights, when he wakes up from a nightmare and you guys binge watch a TV show or movie series

- you end up tapping out first of course and falling asleep on his chest to the background noise of the tv

- Bucky refuses to fight with you

- he’s a very understanding person, so it’s very very rare for you guys to argue or fight seriously over something bigger then where to eat, or who forgot to take out the trash

- he is low key a simp and would soon apologize for whatever it was that made you upset and would just want to be done fighting

- he doesn’t like it when you’re mad at him especially after Steve leaving him you are all he has

- aside from Sam & Alpine of course

(IDC ALPINE SHOULDVE MADE THE MOVIES FIGHT ME ON IT 😁)

- Having to reassure him from time to time that he isn’t a bad guy and never was

- but sometimes all you can do is just hug him

- he has his good days and bad days though

- he can actually be pretty playful when it’s just you two

- him totally using his arm to his advantage when tickling you/play fighting

- one time you grabbed his metal wrist and wrapped your legs around him arm as an attempt to get him to stop tickling you

- he just lifted his entire arm up and watched you dangle in the air

- and then proceeded to tickle you with you with his free hand

- his arm hanging over the couch of course so when you fall you’ll be safe

- you make him love his arm more and feel better about it

- showers together, pretty much 100% of the time

- he can be very domestic, but if we are being honest he can’t cook

- but he makes up for it by doing other things or ordering food instead if you don’t feel like cooking

- he’s very gentle and attentive

- Bucky notices the little things and sometimes beats you to it, like a little task you needed to do or grabbing something like your purse or wallet for you

- total husband material

1K notes · View notes

helpwhatsthis · 1 year

Note

could I request smut of best friend Robin coming across photos of reader and Eddie sending one another nudes 😱 then later on reader and Robin sext?

eddies girl- r.b./e.m

thank you sm for requesting babes!

I changed it bc I am very picky abt my modern aus, but there are definitely still nudes and this is way better than sexting.

ignore the use of time period inaccurate toys!

disclaimer that there are no relations between eddie and robin! (if anyone tries to argue with me about robins sexuality, prepare to have a molotov cocktail thrown in your window ♡)

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

robin had know she was fucked from the moment she saw you punch a russian in the face during summer of 85'.

she'd known she was even more fucked the moment she pulled open eddies nightstand in search of a song to save nancy.

before she could even move her eyes to the contents of the drawer, eddie had started screaming and running toward her. the tapes were forgotten from both of her hands when she gazed down to see god knows how many photos of one of her best friends in such... compromising positions.

if it hadn't been for steves screams to hurry up, and eddies pointed yet still terrified stare- she thinks she would have laughed from the shock of it all. because if she was a little more perverted (and a lot less rushed) it would have been like striking gold to her.

she can't deny to herself how many times she'd thought about the small glimpse she'd had. once everyone was safe, and eddie and max had been released from the hospital, it was all she had thought about for days. she'd barely left her room. every time her eyes closed, she saw it. saw you. tied up to your headboard, eddies hellfire shirt bunched up over your tits, and his hands pressing on your stomach. your head thrown back in ecstacy.

and with the sight came the questions. would you ever, in a million years or another lifetime let her touch you like that? what would you sound like? do want to fuck eddie as much as he talks about wanting to fuck you?

now her thighs are clenching together in the dusk surrounding the lake. she feels like a preteen boy, about to blow her load in her jeans while you moan along with joan jett to cherry bomb.

how could she not? your eyes are glassy and bloodshot, smoke falling from your nose. your black bathing suit leaves nothing of your body shape to the imagination. but most of all, even in the low light she can see the dark hickies on your skin.

"she's so fucking perfect, isn't she?" eddie muses softly, his knee bumping her own. guilt immediately fills her being when she looks back at him. even though his skin is covered in harsh scars, and there's a fear lurking in his eyes, he smiles as he watches you.

he loves you.

and you love him.

"to the ends of the earth, teddy" you had whispered in the back of steves car while begging him to hang on.

"i- I mean yeah, sure-" she stumbles on her words, sure shes been caught staring for too long.

"cool it, buckley." he smirks, turning his gaze to her. "I know you want to fuck my girlfriend, there's no reason to freak out."

"I don't!" she blurts, probably a little too loudly when you and steve turn back to look at her.

"shut up rob," he laughs, smacking her shoulder. "I know you have a shitty sleep schedule, and you have work tomorrow. so me and the succubus are gonna head home."

"dick" you grit, reaching up to slap his ass harshly as he stands.

why the fuck is he covering for her right now?

she's seen how possessive eddie can get, even before his escapades in an alternate dimension. since then, they'd only increased tenfold.

"we'll finish this conversation later." he murmurs, leaning down and feigning a kiss goodbye on the top of her head.

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

"-and she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it. and he's holding her in his arms late-late at night-"

robin groans, throwing her head back against the headrest of steves passenger seat. "alright, sorry springfield. I can't handle you tonight."

she reaches to turn down the radio, causing steve to fake a moan of agony.

"shit, robin. is this y/n. again?" he asks, glancing at her pitifully.

"yes, again." she snaps. "it's like she knows exactly how to work her way into the most minute crevices of my brain" she explains exaggeratedly with her hands.

much to her annoyance, steve just chuckles.

"and eddie knows-" she looks at him, finally allowing her fear to show through. she knows that some point, eddie had threatened a guy within an inch of his life, all because he heard from someone who heard from someone else that the guy had a crush on you.

she did not feel like having eddie threaten to put a pipe bomb in her mailbox. or whatever deranged shit came out of his mouth.

"and how would he know?" steve asks skeptically.

because all I do is stare at her boobs,

or because I stole one of her shirts,

maybe even because sometimes I wake myself up moaning her name in my sleep.

"I don't know." she lies. straight through fucking teeth. "but he told me he knows."

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

"alright, I'll be back in a few." you huff, grabbing eddies keys so that you could pick up steve and some take out. "love you, bubba" you hum, pressing a short kiss to eddies lips that makes robin painfully aware of being the third wheel.

"love you too." he smiles blissfully as he watches you walk out the door. it takes less than a second for him to turn back to her, cheshire grin upturning his lips. "let's get down to business-"

he wiggles his brows at her, causing her to roll her eyes. "and what would that be, edward?" she snaps, looking anywhere but his face. she knows that if she looks at him too long, she'll become a sobbing, apologizing mess.

"well, all three of us are off thursday." he shrugs. "and wayne is going out with some fishing buddies-" he smirks, biting his lip as he leans toward her.

"that means y/n and I are gonna have that new, big nda money house all to ourselves... unless of course you wanna come over?"

and she can see it vividly now, playing behind her eyelids. she's not stupid. she nows eddie fucked you on every surface of the new place after you'd bought it with your hush money.

it's a nice place, a really nice place actually. it's no harrington mansion, but you have eddie have a big plush bed on the second floor.

she wonders what it'd be like, to fuck you the king size bed you share with your boyfriend.

"and what would happen if I did come over?" she bites the bullet, looking skeptically at eddie. she almost wishes she hadn't when she sees the victorious look on eddies face.

"well y'know, it's not like I've put too much thought to it-" he laughs, eyes lost in thought as he absent-mindedly picks at the couch. "but you probably come in and find her tied to one of the kitchen chairs, wand buzzing against her puffy clit and begging someone to fill her up."

and she can almost hear it then, the loud buzzing and your whines for him.

no, for her.

"and of course I'd be mean, tell her no. and you'd get to play the hero, making her cum over and over on your pink cock."

there's a burning in her stomach, and she almost cries out when she clenches her thighs.

"god robin, she gets so wet for you. I make her tell me about how she wants your fingers inside and your tits in her face when im fucking her."

and she can't suppress it then, a soft moan pulling from her throat. she pulls her knees under her chin, peering up at him through teary eyes. he smiles, almost warmly as he claps a hand on her shoulder.

"so come over, or don't. s'up to you darlin'."

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

her hands are shakey as she reaches to close the mirror on the visor, letting out a huff of anxiety.

"you're really gonna do this?" steve ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I guess so, and if it's horrible I'll call you when you're on break and make you come pick me up." she shrugs, looking back out the window.

"It's not gonna be horrible, rob." steve states, even though he knows very well that his is definitely out of her comfort zone.

she's so lost in her own head that she barely notices when he stops the car in the driveway.

"oh god-" she murmurs softly, gazing at the front door.

"It's just eddie and y/n, you'll be okay." he promises, reaching out a squeezing her hand.

the walk to the door feels endless on her trembling legs. she almost can bring herself to knock when she finally reaches it. but she does.

"It's open!" she hears eddie call from inside.

before she even has the door all the way open, she hears you cry out.

"eddie, please." you beg, hands fisting your binds and hips trying to wiggle away from the vibrations. it's a fruitless effort, only adding stimulation to your swollen cunt.

your beautiful. it's a simple thought, and the first thing that occurs to her as she stares into the the living room.

she thinks that eddie must have the self control of a god, being able to write nerd shit in his notebook while you're tied up and jerking around like that right in front of him.

"god eddie, please make it stop." you pant, body slumping and pushing your clit into the toy harder.

he only smiles, reaching out and turning it up a setting. you practically scream, head falling back and making her knees feel weak.

"come torture her a bit, buckley." he smiles at her. "lose the clothes on the way." he hums, going back to his notebook.

and she's waited so long to see you like this that she obeys without a second thought, striping down to her underwear and sitting beside him on the couch.

from here, she can see all of you. you're chest is heaving so hard it makes your tits bounce. there's visible tremors running through your belly. and your cunt, fuck. it's leaking everywhere and your puffy clit is twitching against the head of the wand.

"r-robin-" you choke, voice broken. "please make it stop?" you you beg, tear filled eyes pleading at her.

"oh y/n." she hums, reaching out to wipe the tear tracks from your cheeks. you push into her touch, and jerk a second later when eddie flicks the handle of the wand.

"make her cum." he says, relaxing back into the couch with his arms behind his head.

"how?" she asks, not able to tear her gaze from your clenching hole.

he sits up wordlessly, reaching for the clasp of her bra. he stops, eyes asking for permission. she nods, and seconds later the material is falling from her chest.

the sound you make is strangled, wanting nothing more than to feel the hard buds of her nipples against your tongue.

"do whatever feels right?" eddie shrugs.

and so she does, standing from the couch and pulling down her panties. your whining, body keening toward hers as you watch her undress.

she can help herself, hands caressing your face and she guides it so that your chin rests on her sternum.

it almost feel natural as she moves her hands to the sides of her breasts, pushing them and effectively smashing you between them.

and she giggles, fucking giggles, as you sob into her skin.

"can I kiss her?" she asks shyly, looking over her shoulder at eddie.

"you can do whatever the fuck you want to her, robin" he grins.

the next thing you know, her mouth is on yours, her tongue running along yours. you don't even notice her moving, so consumed by her mouth. she drops on your lap, folds warm and wet against your legs as her hand wraps around your neck.

"f-fuck" you cry into her mouth when she squeezes slightly.

and then she's in a daze, hips rocking against your mound and causing you to thrust into the vibe.

you take her tit into your mouth, nearly biting at her nipple and making her moan.

"oh fuck, that's it y/n" she gasps, hands tugging your hairs.

"go on and cum for her, baby." eddie encourages, reaching out and squeezing you knee.

it's euphoria as you let go. cunt clenching and feeling your pulse everywhere. your deaf to your owns screams of pleasure, deaf to both of their praising words. it's just wave after wave of bliss.

when you come to, the wand is clicked off. your head is resting on robins shoulder and her hands are rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"come on, princess. buckley isn't done with you yet." he hums, beginning to untie you.

"your getting payback for that teasing." you threaten, making robin laugh.

"oh yeah, and how is that?" he smirks.

"when is steves next day off?" you smile devilishly up at robin.

▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞▞

627 notes · View notes

auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

DARE TO SURRENDER (FINAL CHAPTER) JavierPenax f!Reader

Dare to Surrender Finale

DARE TO SURRENDER: Javier Pena x f!reader

Words: 9.8

summary: Things with Javier finally come to a head and the truth comes out at a dinner party thrown by the Murphy's.

warnings: (some tags not included to avoid plot spoiler) unprotected p in v, dirty talk, love, romantic, domestic, sex at work/public-ish sex.

A/N: Ya know I'm gonna miss these two. Didn't expect a silly little smutty story to turn romantic but I'm happy where we leave these two. Wanna know what y'all think about this story!

masterlist here

===================

DARE TO SURRENDER FINALE

Javier feels like shit when he strides into work on Monday. His head is pounding and his mouth tastes like an ashtray much stronger than usual.

He can't stop thinking about you. About your taste and the way you'd kissed him. You kissed him! You initiated it! And it felt so fucking good. Not just fucking you but your hand carding through his hair, your eyes so glazed as you whimpered against his mouth.

And then you'd mentioned Brad. Fucking Brad.

Javier feels his stomach churn at the memory. This jealousy gnawed at him the entire weekend and hasn't let up. What had he been expecting though? That you'd come home with him? No he hadn't been expecting it. He'd been desperately hoping for it. He'd wanted it so badly. Wanted you to tell him that these feelings aren't one sided.

But you didn't.

And why would you? He's been horrible. How could you ever guess the depths of his feelings when he's been blowing hot and cold? The thing is Javier has no idea what to do with these feelings for you. The last time he thought he cared about a woman he left her at the altar.

He doesn't trust his heart.

Javier comes to his office door, imagining you there on other side and he notices his hands are shaking. He chases drug cartels down and the thought of you has his fucking hands shaking. He swallows thickly before pushing the door open.

You're not there.

Murphy calls Javier over immediately, citing a lead they need to follow in town. Javier decides that he needs to throw himself into his work. That is better that his attention go somewhere else.

But it doesn't. All day all he can think of is you.

"You okay, man?" Murphy asks on the drive over. "You're acting off."

"Just hungover."

Javi can tell that Steve doesn't buy it, but it's thankful when he lets it go.

You're not there Tuesday either.

It makes the days drag by, not seeing your face across the room. He misses the way your tongue peeks out the corner of your mouth when you type. He misses bringing you coffee and feeling your gentle smile as you take it from him in grateful surprise. But most of all he just misses your presence.

Because he likes you. He more than likes you.

It's become pathetically apparent to Javier in a way he can't deny any more.

Waking up Saturday morning and knowing you were probably with Brad in bed had him reaching for the bottle before his eyes were even fully open. The weekend had gone by in a drunken blur.

He likes you a lot. More than he anticipated.. And he's realizing that he has for a long time. Even before the bet. Hell, the bet had just been a way to get closer to you, to spend more time with you. He’s terrified that he loves you

He wants you back in his apartment, back in his arms. Even if it's not to fuck, he wants you. He wants nights of snuggling under that crochet blanket, of taking you to dance in a dress you like wearing, at a bar outside of town where the music isn't too loud. He wants nights arguing about who has to cook dinner and whose place to spend the night. He wants more and he wants it with you.

But why would you want him? He's been horrible. How could you ever guess the depths of his feelings when he's been blowing hot and cold? The thing is Javier has no idea what to do with these feelings for you. The last time he thought he cared about a woman he left her at the altar.

He doesn't trust his heart.

When he arrives at the office on Wednesday morning Javier decides that he'll tell you everything. If nothing else perhaps it will explain to you why he's been such a fucking dick. He considers buying flowers but then realizes that might be an overstep. He doesn’t need the entire office knowing.

But then Brad arrives with you that morning, his large hand clutching yours. He kisses your cheek and says he'll pick you up after work as you smile up at him.

"Morning," Steve calls out and when Bradley leaves he adds: "Seems like a real nice guy."

"He is," you reply quickly.

"You guys serious?"

Javier holds his breath.

"Yeah," you say after a pause. "Yeah we are."

"You should definitely bring him to dinner this week then."

"Sure."

You're fast to start on work, not even offering Javier so much as a glance. Javier lights a cigarette, inhaling deeply as he realizes he's missed his chance.

It's too late.

///

Brad spent the night on Friday. Against all your better judgment you let him come into your apartment when he dropped you off.

You couldn't fuck him, not when Javier's saliva still clung to your inner thighs. Not when all you could do was picture his reflection in the mirror at the club.

So you gave Brad a hand job, hating yourself because instead of focusing on the man whose cock you stroked and mouth you kissed, all you could think of was Javier Peña. Javier Peña dancing. Javier Peña calling you pretty girl. Javier Peña's mouth on yours.

You like him.

You like the way he looks at you and not just during sex. The way his arms hold you. You like how he calls you baby in that gentle murmur that makes you feel cared for. You like how he makes you laugh. You like how his mind works during a case. You just like him.

When Brad left the next morning all you could do was mope around your apartment thinking about how you'd fallen for your coworker. Your coworker known for his bedroom prowess. The same co-worker who has slept with half the female embassy staff and shows no signs of slowing down. You've fallen for a playboy like an idiot.

And now you sit across from Javier at work trying everything in your power not to look at him because if you do you're terrified your eyes will give you away.

You're humiliated at how much you like playboy Peña. Even after you told yourself that you wouldn't fall for his charms. And now look at you- lovesick over a man who wants nothing from you but sex.

The moment in the club was so obviously a power trip for Javier. Proof that he could still seduce you if he wanted. And you'd gone right along with it. Your cheeks burn at the memory of how willing you were to have his mouth between your legs.

You think of Rosalia and the way her body had moved with his. You think of how she'd giggled about his bed. Your mouth twists into a scowl.

You'd passed her this morning as you entered the embassy hand-in-hand with Brad. You were confused at the look of open hostility she shot you. You wonder if Javier told her about the club. You wonder if after they fucked they laughed about how easily you succumbed to him.

You think of your own experience after the club. Giving Brad a hand job, kissing him before extricating yourself and setting him up with a pillow and blanket on your sofa.

Brad had urged you to fuck him Saturday morning before he left. His hand sliding over your clothed breasts as you stirred to wakefulness in your bed. He'd been hard, palming himself through his slacks.

When you'd declined he'd been huffy, almost resentful. But he'd kissed you and told you that he'd see you at work on Monday.

But you hadn't wanted to see Brad or Javier on Monday. Thoughts of Javier and Rosalia haunted you. Baby. Pretty girl. Thoughts of them in bed together. These painful ruminations wouldn't leave you until Tuesday night when Brad called to see how you were feeling and offered to drive you to work the next day.

And now you sit here, shoulders hunched as you focus on your paperwork half finished from last week.

///

Steve excuses himself during the mid-morning, citing that Connie has an appointment he needs to accompany her on. Javier is pretty sure that means Connie's in the family way, but he just nods when his partner announces his departure.

Then it's just you and Javier. You've taken a page from his book, tilting to use the opposite edge of your desk in order to face your back to Javier. You're typing hurriedly, your shoulders tense.

He longs to touch you. To massage those shoulders until you loosen up. To brush your hair from your shoulders. Wants your mouth on his.

But he can't. He knows this. Instead Javier prepares your coffee, carrying it to your desk with his heart pounding. He places it next to your hand on the desk.

"Hey," Javier says, his pulse skyrocketing when he inhales and can catch a trace of your perfume in the air. "You feeling better, osita?"

Your eyes slope up to his face, irritation clear. "You're not serious."

"What?"

"After everything you're just gonna stand there and act like you haven't treated me like absolute shit?"

Javier feels his eyes blow wide. "What?"

"I don't know what the fuck is going on with you Peña, but I can't handle all your mood swings," you tell him, eyes on his shoulder. "One minute you're following me to the club, next minute you're taking some girl home in front of me. And now you're bringing me coffee and acting like we're fine?"

You break off, swallowing.

"I don't deserve it," you tell him when you're voice returns. "And I think it's better if we just go back to how things used to be. Co-workers who bicker all the time."

Javier is uncharacteristically stoic, listening to you and his mouth thins as you speak before he clears his throat.

"Is that what you want?"

The air seems to have been sucked out of the room. You square your shoulders, taking a deep breath.

"Yes."

Javier's face is pained as he takes in what you've said. He taps the edge of your desk absently before nodding.

"Understood."

He moves from your desk quickly, face tilted from you. You watch him pull on his jacket, arms snapping before he leaves the office, door closing quietly behind him.

///

Before long it's Friday and Steve is excited to have everyone to his apartment. Apparently Connie has been working hard on food all day.

"Bring wine," Steve suggests when you ask what to bring you and Brad should bring to dinner that evening.

You know Javier will be invited as well and you hope that he turns down the invitation. You don't want more time with Javier outside of work. You’ve been lucky that he’s barely been in the office this week.

Steve glances at his watch, his light brows knitted. "Wonder where Jav--"

As if summoned, Javier saunters into the office and it's very reminiscent of his previous behavior. Arriving late, dropping by your desk to tease you.

But today a cigarette is hanging out of his mouth and he looks like he's barely been sleeping. He doesn't greet either of you.

"Hey Javi," Steve calls out, glancing over with a wry grin. "Rough night?"

"Fuck off."

Steve shoots you an amused look that you return weakly. But your gaze drifts over to Javier's brooding frame, watching as he drops into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

You sigh gently, your eyes darting away when he glances in your direction. You can't look him in the face, can't be swayed by those beautiful eyes of his.

"I-I'm going to the evidence locker," you murmur to Steve. "Need to check something."

You stumble from your desk, heading down to the elevator. Your foot taps, waiting. You hear a sniff from behind you, glancing over your shoulder to see Rosalia with a handful of documents. When she sees it's you, she gives a dramatic sigh, turning on her heel and heading in the opposite direction.

What the fuck?

The elevator arrives and you load onto it, deep in thought about what just happened as the doors start to close. A broad hand slices between the closing doors at the last second and your head jerks up to see Javier sliding into the elevator next to you.

You bristle, wanting nothing more than to break down and tell him everything. How you can't stop thinking about him. How your desire for him goes beyond the bedroom.

But instead you fold your hands in front of you, trying to hide their trembling. Javier's shoulder brushes yours, and you can feel his eyes on you.

"Can we talk?"

"There's nothing to say, Peña."

The elevator door opens and several men from the department load on, causing Javier to squeeze closer to you. They press the button for the lower floors and you hold your breath as Javier tilts towards you.

"Please," he murmurs, the warm air from his breath huffing against your ear.

"Not here," you whisper, eyes steely.

You arrive at the basement level, stepping out with Javier quick on your heels. The guard out front gives you a nod as you and Peña flash your badges. He unlocks the room and you and Javier walk in, the door shutting behind you.

The room is dark and almost immediately you feel your pulse begin to pound. You can feel Javier behind you, his body warm and the scent of leather and his cologne washes over you. Fuck. He smells so good. It transports you back to his apartment. To riding him, his eyes and hands on your body.

You force yourself to move to the far side of the room with large tiered shelves filled with bins. Beside it are units filled with contraband locked behind chain link.

You pretend to look through the nearest bin, your eyes scanning the paperwork inside. You hear Javier clear his throat but you don't turn to face him.

"I'm sorry for treating you so... I'm sorry for being such an asshole," he tells you, eyes fixed on the back of your head. You turn your head to the side and he can just see your profile when you reply.

"You've been really horrible."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Javier feels his heart thudding in his chest. "I-I don't. . . It was shitty."

"Thanks," you murmur your eyes on the paper in your hand. You can't turn around and look at him. You know that if you do its game over.

"I never meant to hurt you." Javier runs a hand through his hair. "I... I think I got, uh... I'm not used to..."

He sees your head tilt to the left indicating that you're listening to him at least. That's something. But he needs your eyes; they tell him everything you're feeling.

"Would you look at me? Please, osita?"

You sigh, turning after a beat. Your eyes won't go to his, but they land somewhere around his collar. He immediately feels the words he rehearsed leaving him. All he can do is step towards you, desperately.

"I don't want things to go back to the way they were before," Javier murmurs, his hand going to your jaw.

Another game. Another tease.

"Stop Javier," you insist, your voice scraping the bottom of your shoes. "I can't take it-"

Of course he doesn't want things to go back to how they were before, you muse. Before you didn't fuck him. He likes having your pussy on speed dial. He likes having an easy fuck around the office, why wouldn’t he?

You try to turn away from him but his wide palm is at the back of your neck, stopping you.

"Wait," Peña insists, his hand on the back of your neck squeezing softly. "Look at me."

You turn your eyes on him and there's so much in your gaze that it takes Javier's breath from him. Your eyes, normally so guarded are so open right now, so needy, so heated.

"Please," you say and Javier has no idea what you're asking for. For him to touch you? For him to leave?

"Please what? What do you need?"

You can't find the words. Can't explain this fucking need that won't leave you when he's around. Can't express that you miss him. Can't say that you want him. Can't say that you really like him.

But Javier has never needed words, not when he can read everything in your eyes.

And when your arms wrap around his neck and your mouth goes to his it's all but confirmed. Your mouth is warm and pliant and he feels himself surrendering to you immediately.

Javier begins to unbuckle his jeans, the belt clinking against the zipper as you step out of your heels and then your panties and pantyhose are drawn down, discarded without thought as you both continue kissing.

He backs you against the chain link wall of the evidence locker, pulling back to see your face. Behind you is contraband and weaponry. In front of you is Javier taking his cock from his jeans, never looking away from you.

There's no teasing, no build up. It's just Javier bringing his fingers to his mouth swirling his tongue around them and then slipping them into your waiting cunt.

He didn't need to bother with his saliva, you're already soaked. You cry out as his thumb finds your clit, curving as his mouth descends to your neck, grazing his lips over your pulse point.

You know he's trying to build you up but you don't need it, you need him inside you. Now. Your hand reaches between you going to gently grip his cock, coaxing him between your legs under your skirt.

He removes his fingers quickly, not arguing with your silent request. One of his hands skates down to your thigh, urging it around his hip. He leans his torso into yours heavily, pushing your back against the chain link. Your fingers wrap around the metal, curling instinctively and holding you there.

His mouth meets yours, urgent and desperate before he's moving between your thighs and in one motion slides into you. You tilt back to let out a cry that's immediately muffled by one of his broad hands.

"Shhh," he commands softly against your temple. "Gotta be quiet, baby."

He starts a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours as you hold firm to the chain link.

"You needed this," Peña rasps, "Needed me. Didn't you?"

You let out a loud whine, muffled by his hand so you nod. Javier is grunting, his voice husky and dark from beside your ear.

"Fuck, I needed this too. Needed you."

You're ashamed at how much you need Javier, so full of this seemingly insatiable need that you don't reply. You only grit your teeth and thrust against him, fucking yourself on his length.

Javier grunts in approval, eyes on yours. He pushes the hair from your brow so he can see every inch of your face. "You take what you need, pretty girl. Wanna see you feel good."

There is something about Javier's body that speaks to yours. No matter how much he drives you insane, there is a biological pull that makes you want his body against yours. That needs to feel his hands on your body. Both of your legs go around his waist, hooking at the ankles.

"Deeper," you whisper. "Deeper, please."

Javier lets out a soft sigh as your head tilts back, your chest bouncing under your blouse as he drives into you. You’re so fucking sexy he can't handle it. He lets out little rasping whimpers.

He's tugging one of your hands from the chain, urging it to hold the back of his neck. He needs your grip to keep him grounded so he can look into your face and you into his as he fucks you.

He needs you to want him the way he wants you. He's desperate for you. You grip him around the neck, your pupils blown out.

"You want me," he says, twisting his hips to drive into an angle that has you groaning. "Stop pretending you don't."

"Haven't you got enough?" you bite back. "The brothel girls? Rosalia?"

His forehead presses against yours, both damp from the suffocating heat of the evidence locker.

"Don't want them," Peña grunts. "Want you."

You want to argue, you want to push him from you but that delicious pleasure is building within you. The sound of your flesh smacking together in the locker is obscene, but it turns you on in a way you can’t explain.

"You feel so..." you whimper, trying to focus on what to say while your body keeps cresting. "I'm gonna-"

Before you can say more your orgasm overtakes you, ripping through you like a stripe of white hot heat. Javier watches as your body arches against his, covering your mouth with his hand once more as you rut against him. You cry out against his palm, hot and urgent.

Don't want them. Want you.

Javier watches you climax, his brows saddling as he groans. To him there is nothing sexier than you coming because of him. You give little whimpers, little jolts as you come down, your eyes heavy as you look at him.

He removes his hand slowly from your mouth, lowering it to his side. You're chest heaves as you pant heavily, your body loose.

Javier pulls himself from you, tucking his still hard cock into his jeans. You continue standing there against the fence, eyes blinking in a daze.

His hand goes back to your face, trailing his fingers along the curve of your soft cheek before tilting his mouth towards yours.

"Osita, I-"

You swerve from him, bending down to retrieve your panties and hosiery. You pull them both on before slipping into your heels. Javier watches this all quietly, the fingers of his left hand laced in the chain link.

"I'll see you at dinner tonight," you offer, your legs shaky.

Javier says nothing as you leave him.

///

You decide on deviled eggs as something to bring this evening. Something simple that you think the Murphy's will like.

Despite your parting words in the evidence locker today, you think there's no way Javier will actually come to dinner tonight. He knows you're coming with Brad. The frustrating thing is that Javier and Steve live in the same building.

You remember Javier’s unit. You hold your breath as you pass his door, heading up the stairs to the Murphy’s.

"You made it," Connie says brightly opening the door. Brad holds the deviled eggs as she pulls you into a tight hug.

"Wouldn't miss it," you enthuse with a smile.

"C'mon in, you wanna glass of wine?"

"Sure."

You enter into the apartment, taking in the tasteful decorations, the warm colored paint on the walls.

It strikes you that despite Javier and Steve having the same apartment layout in the same building, this one is so warm and homey. Javier's looks so sterile, aside from that colorful crochet blanket over his sofa.

Stop thinking about him.

You take the wine glass from Connie, greeting Steve as he comes from the kitchen to say hello.

"Glad you could make it Brad," Steve says shaking his hand.

"Same here."

You watch the two of them and smile. Brad is so handsome, so confident. You like being on his arm. They chat casually, the two of them so similar in their looks and upbringing. You realize that Brad however seems to feel the need to dominate the conversation, laughing a little too loud, speaking a little too much.

But then again you might just be comparing him to someone else. Someone more laid back, someone who has an inner confidence that oozes from every pore.

Stop it.

There's a knock at the door and Connie rushes over to it. You stomach drops as you hear the door swing open.

"Sorry I'm late."

At the sound of his familiar rasp your stomach tightens. You don't even turn to see him enter, you just bristle. Brad has put the eggs in the kitchen and walks out to see Javier enter.

"Hey Javier," Brad says with a grin. "Nice to see you. No Rosalia tonight?"

"Uh no," Javier sounds uneasy. "No Rosalia."

Immediately you feel your chest begin to tighten. Just hearing her name takes you back to the club and Javier's hand around her waist. Connie takes Javier's the wine bottle he's brought smiling at him and giving him a thank you.

"Beer Javier?"

"Sounds great, Con, thanks."

You follow Brad to the sofa, sure not to look over at Javier as he chats with Steve and Connie. If Brad or the Murphy's think it's odd that you two don't interact, none say anything.

You feel your cheeks burning as you think of only hours ago with Javier between your legs.

Brad puts his hand on your crossed knee, leaning comfortably against the sofa. You startle before giving a ghost of a smile.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you insist. "Just a little tired."

Steve hands Brad a beer before he drops into the sofa opposite you Brad. Javier joins him seconds later, his eye stuck on Brad’s hand on your knee. How could you fuck him hours ago and then sit there snuggled up to Brad? Why fuck Javier if you don’t want him how he wants you?

"So how's the case going?" Brad asks with his eyes bright. "I know you can't give too many details."

"Things are progressing," Javier offers huskily. "Not as quickly as we'd like but..."

He trails off before taking a swig from his beer bottle.

"Can't say much more than that I'm afraid," Steve says with wink in your direction. You grin as Brad gives you a friendly nudge with his elbow.

"I'll see if I can get something outta this one," Brad teases you.

"Good luck," Javier scoffs. "She's a vault."

Somehow you sense that Javier isn't talking about the case.

"Well I have ways of making her talk," Brad says with a suggestive wink in your direction. You flush immediately feeling Javier's eyes on you.

And that's where you make your mistake.

Because now for the first time since he came into the apartment do you chance a look at Javier. He's staring directly at you, one hand curled over the arm of the sofa, his other hand holding his beer bottle loosely between his legs.

He holds your gaze in his own, dark and beckoning.

And this is when Steve senses something amiss. There's no teasing, no baiting each other. And when he thinks back to this week he realizes there's been a strange harmony at work.

No, not a harmony. A quiet.

Steve looks between you and Javier, seeing as you two stare at one another before you're dragging your attention to your wine glass. Steve glances over to see Javier gazing at you a beat longer before his attention is on his beer bottle.

You glance over to Murphy just in time to see as everything clicks for him. He knows something has gone on between the two of you. You see it flicker in his light eyes before his attention is back on Brad as your date launches into something about work and one of the local busts.

The three of you listen to him as Connie darts around the kitchen. It's not long before she's summoning you all to the table she's laid out beautifully, even going so far as to fold the fabric napkins into flower shapes.

The five of you sit at the table, giving murmurs of delight at her staging and of course Javier is seated across from you. You can feel his gaze sweeping over you every so often as you try to ignore him.

Don't look at him.

The meal is pleasant. Connie is a marvelous cook and you enjoy every bite. But your mind is everywhere but the conversation. It's over the table in Javier's arms. It's focusing on his wide hands as he lifts the fork to his full mouth. It's stuck on his dark eyes that sail to yours just as you tear them away.

Brad is charming as he always is. Connie and Steve seem to really enjoy his company. You wish you could enjoy it this evening as well but it seems impossible. You consider faking a headache just so you can leave early.

But you see how much effort Connie is put into this dinner. You know that you can't just take off. And when they tell you that they brought you over to share some exciting news, you know you have to stay.

"We wanted you to be the first here in Bogotá to know that we're expecting," Connie says with a wide grin. Steve is near tears, looking so in love with his wife that it makes your heart ache.

"That's amazing!" You burst out, eyes bright. Javier quickly gives his genuine well wishes, his smile warm.

Connie and Steve accept the well wishes from everyone at the table looking delighted.

"You want kids one day, Osita?" Brad asks you quietly.

You glance to him, eyes widening. It's a totally fair question to ask someone you're dating, you suppose. But to you it feels like too much too fast.

Before you can reply though you both turn when Javier slaps his beer bottle onto the table.

Javier can't take it. He can't take another moment of you ignoring him. He can't take another second of another man calling you a nickname he gave you as an inside joke.

She's not your osita," Javier snaps out loud before remembering himself.

He sees the widening of your eyes, the narrowing of Brad's. He misses when Steve and Connie exchange looks of embarrassed surprise behind their drinking glasses.

"Well she isn't yours," Brad laughs back, nudging you with his shoulder. "Unless I'm missing something?"

All eyes at the table are now on you. Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes have dropped to the table. You twist your fingers on your lap anxiously, willing the heat in your face to lessen.

You can't form the words and you can't look at either of them. To look at them would reveal everything.

Javier feels his heart picking up speed with every silent second that ticks by. You're not saying no to Brad. You're not saying no to Javier.

Brad says your name, prompting you for an answer with a pained smile. But you can't look at him. You feel so terrible because you know there's no way he'll forgive you. No way Brad will understand that you were Javier's long before you were his, even if the agent across from you doesn't want you like you want him.

But you can't say it. Can't put those words into the world where they'll be crushed like the wings of a butterfly. They're so too delicate, they'd never survive it.

But your silence is its own kind of answer and when Javier softly says your name and your eyes instinctively rise to meet his, Brad sees it all.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Your eyes shoot back to the table, guilt clear from your slumped shoulders and red face.

Brad is thunderous, looking over at Javier in shock. And Javier who never misses the chance to gloat or to mock has gone uncharacteristically quiet, his large brown eyes only fixed on your downturned face.

"Fucking made for each other," Brad scoffs waving a loose hand between you and Javier. "The tease and the whore."

"Whoa," Connie snaps.

"Hey," Steve says raising a hand in Brad's direction. "That's enough, man."

"You won't fuck me but you'll fuck this walking STD?" Brad continues, ignoring Steve. He looks shocked, as if he's never been rejected before.

Javier feels his chest tighten. You still didn't fuck Brad. There's gotta be a reason. There has to be. He wants to leap across the table and pull you into his arms.

"You need to leave," Steve says, rising from his chair, shielding Connie. "Now."

Brad seems to remember himself, and he gives a scoff.

"Fuck it. You're welcome to her," Brad sneers at Javier. Then he moves his cold gaze to you in the chair. "And you just wait until I tell everyone about you and your fucking head games."

Brad's glaring down at you but your eyes are on the table, your body curling into itself. It breaks Javier's heart to see it.

"Get the fuck away from her," Javier says in a dark voice of warning, jerking to a stand. "Now."

Your eyes fly to him, feeling breathless. And there in his dark eyes is the fighter you know, the man that risks everything for intel, the man that doesn't take shit even from drug lords.

Javier knows that your reputation is everything to you. He knows you want the respect of the people you work with, especially the men who pass judgment so easily on their female co-workers. And he knows something like Brad mouthing off will destroy your credibility you've spent so long accruing.

"And if you say anything about her, if I hear one goddam thing in that office I'll make sure you're transferred to the middle of nowhere giving out parking tickets for the rest of your pathetic fucking career."

Brad knows Javier has friends in high places. He knows that the threat isn't empty and Brad for all his posturing just gives a sound of disgust before striding off, slamming the door to Steve's apartment after him.

A long stretch of silence falls over the remaining guests. Javier, who hasn't taken his eyes off of you takes his seat again before he reaches across the table to take your hand in his.

"Are you okay?"

At the sensation of his warm hand covering yours, your jerk back as if coming out of a trance.

"I'm sorry everyone," you say in a voice that sounds detached from you. You start to gather your purse onto your shoulder. "He shouldn't have brought you into the middle of all that. That was so... I'm so sorry."

"Don't go," Connie insists. "We were just gonna have dessert."

"Maybe next time," you say weakly smiling. “Congrats again you too. I’m so happy for you.”

You feel your eyes getting wet and you refuse for your colleagues to see you cry. You murmur a quick thank you for dinner and move from the table.

Javier watches this with indecision plaguing him. Despite wanting to gather you into his arms you seem to need space. He doesn't want to crowd you with his body, he's done that in the past and he's worried you'd only see it as sexual.

Steve is staring at Javier, his brows furrowed. Connie has lowered her wine glass to fix Javier with a matching look of confusion.

"What the fuck are you still doing sitting there?" Steve challenges. "Go after her!"

///

You're halfway down the steps when you hear your name being called. Javier jogs down the steps, his boots scraping the cement as he does and you meet him at the bottom, ironically just outside his apartment door.

"Are you okay? Really?"

"Why are you pretending like you care?" you say with a sardonic twist of your lips. You go to shoulder past him but his hand reaches out, gently holding you in place by the upper arm.

"I do care," Javier promises and you almost think you can see sincerity there in the depths of his gaze. But you know better, Javier doesn't do sincerity.

"Javier, we all know what this is to you. A game. A tease. Well congrats, you won the bet. And now you've won whatever game you were playing with me and Brad."

You go to leave him again, desperate to not to cry in front of him. Javier's brows saddle as you try to pull from him and he feels himself desperate to keep you close.

"Wait, baby don't-"

Baby.

You jerk back from his touch as soon as the pet name accidentally leaves his mouth. Those eyes, so limpid and open are now shuttered closed, icing Javier out.

His hand drops as you step back. He wants to say something, anything to get that look back in your eyes. But you're already turning, walking away from him. The conversation is closed and Javier feels that wall being thrust between you two again.

"Go back to Rosalia, Peña," you throw over your shoulder as you turn the corner. "Just don't call me when you fuck this one."

"Stop."

He says your name. Your real first name. No nicknames, no childish pronunciation. Just your first name. And for some reason the sound of it on his tongue makes you turn to see what he has to say.

"There is no me and Rosalia," Javier tells you, his voice thick with emotion. "I haven't taken anyone to bed since Sofia."

Besides you.

"Bullshit," you scoff. "I saw you and Rosalia leave the club together. I heard what you said."

The high of Javier’s cheeks go red. He holds his mouth to the side in embarrassment before clearing his throat.

"I invited her back to my place after the club to make you jealous. She wanted a drink, and so I poured us some whisky except I got wasted." Javier looks humiliated. "Apparently the more I drank the more I wouldn't stop talking about you. She got pissed off. Left."

You think back to Rosalia's cold attitude to you at work. You think of her almost angrily stalking away from you at the elevator. It makes sense now.

"What were you saying about me?"

Javier goes pink around his neck. "Don't remember."

But he does. You vow to get it out of him someday. "Why were you talking about me with her?"

"Because I like you," Javier confesses. He doesn’t even try to gently approach the subject. He just lays his cards out there for you to see. He knows that this isn’t one sided. He saw it in your eyes over the dinner table.

"You like me?"

"Yeah." He nods, closing the distance between you. “A lot.”

“You like fucking me,” you correct him.

“That too,” he admits with a soft chuckle. “But not just that. I want you in my bed, in my arms, next to me at the office, laying with me on the sofa. Don't really care where I just wanna be with you."

"But... The bet?"

"It was never about the bet," Javier tells you. "I think I just used it because I knew you didn't like me but I wanted to get closer to you. I've been crazy about you since you started here, osita."

Yes! He likes you!

No. He can't.

This is Javier Peña we’re talking about. Javier Peña doesn't do relationships. He does one night stands. He does cat houses. He does secretaries in tight sweaters.

"Javier I think you're just confused," you say, trying to hide your disappointment. "We just have really great sex. That doesn't mean more than that."

Javier looks wounded before his eyes blaze. "If it was just sex for you why did you kiss me that morning in my apartment?"

"I-I thought you were asleep," you stutter embarrassed.

"Yeah and you kissed me anyway," Javier says softly challenging you. "Because you like me too."

You're silent.

"If it was just sex why would I know how you take your coffee? Or memorize what your face looks like when you're falling asleep?"Javier insists. "If it was just sex, why do I imagine where I'd take you on a date or what we'd cook for dinner?"

"Where would you take me on a date?" You ask quietly. Javier doesn't miss the small curl to the corners of your mouth. He feels his own mouth doing the same.

"Dinner at this place in Teusaquillo. Great food and wine. Then this salsa club with good music."

"I don't know how to salsa."

"I'd teach you," Javier smiles.

You swallow at the memory of what Javier looks like dancing. You long to feel his body move against yours like that. To be out in public with him holding you to him, grinding against you.

"Then what?"

"I'd take you to the beach after sunset and we'd go skinny dipping."

"Brrrr."

"I'd keep you warm."

He can see the tension being released from your shoulders as you continue listening. You take a step towards him, closing the gap. He does the same until your bodies are inches from one another.

"What next?"

"I'd bring you here to my place," Javier says motioning to the door behind you. "We'd shower off the sand. I'd fuck you against the tile of the shower wall. Make you feel so good you'd call me papi."

Javier doesn't miss how your cheeks flame red and your eyes glaze at this point. You let out a small giggle that warms him from the inside.

"And then I'd take you to bed and make you come as many times as possible before falling asleep with you in my arms." Javier murmurs, his hand sliding to your neck, his thumb on your jaw. "Then the next morning I'd kiss you awake and make you breakfast. Then I'd take you back to bed so I could fuck you all morning."

Your eyes are glazed and he can tell you’re imagining it all. So is he.

"But only if you say you want it, osita," Javier murmurs. "And if you don't I'll stay away and I'll never bring it up again."

All your breath leaves you because Javier is looking at you with those big, luminous eyes in the kind of way that promises more than sex. It promises a relationship. It promises nights curled against one another and mornings making coffee side by side. It promises whispered desire just as quickly as it promises gentle kisses awake.

And you want it all.

"Well we've already had dinner and I don't feel much like dancing," you say, your fingers absently playing with the buttons on his shirt. "And since we didn't go swimming there's no sand to wash off so... Do you think we could just do the other stuff now?"

"You sure? I don't wanna rush you," Javier's hands slide through your hair, over your shoulder. Now that you’re leaning into his hands he can't stop touching you.

"I'm sure,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "Take me to bed, Javi."

Javier fumbles for his keys, pushing the door open and allowing you to enter first. The door isn’t even closed behind him before his hands are around your waist, pulling you against him and kissing you with intensity.

"Want you in my bed," Javier says between kisses. "Please?"

"We've done it everywhere else," you tease, allowing him to drag you after him. "A bed might be a nice change of pace."

Within seconds you’re both undressed and he's seated in his bed. He’s positioned you atop his hips, cupping your face in his hands as you adjust to him, your arms coming to rest loosely on his shoulders.

He slides into your wet and welcoming cunt, eyes half opened and mouth slack. You love how he looks when he’s unguarded. And you love how he feels. Nothing in his world feels as good as Javier Peña entering you. From the sweet clench of your pussy to the little whines that escape you when he does.

"So fucking good," he groans against your mouth. You lick into his mouth; a small part of your subconscious remembering when you’d told him kissing was off the table. What a fucking idiot you’d been.

He rocks into you slowly, not wanting to rush this. To Javier there is nothing better than you naked in his lap, mewling and arching for him. He cups your breasts, mouth going to nibble at each nipple. You give a strangled moan at the sensation, gripping him tightly.

“Oh!”

He grins as you begin to thrust more ardently against him. His hands are spreading your thighs wide on his abdomen so he can watch your cunt sliding along his slick cock. The sight of your pussy stretched around him, dripping makes his pupils blow wide.

"That's my fucking girl," Javier groans. "So wet for papi."

Your eyes are heavy lidded and you gasp gently when his thumb comes to circle your clit as you ride him. He feels you tighten around his cock and he grins, relishing in the desire overtaking you. You’re already so close.

You give a whimper, eyes slammed shut. He watches your face morph into pleasure, head tilted as you rock against him.

"Eyes open, baby."

Your eyes ease open to see Javier smiling softly, his dark hair falling over his forehead as he moves within you.

"Feel good?"

"Mhmm."

You give a drunken nod that has Javier unable to hold back his smile. When you're unguarded and aroused like this he finds you completely endearing.

"Love it when my girl feels good."

"Your girl," you murmur smiling softly. The sight and sound of it makes his heart seize. You like being his.

"My girl," he whispers back. "You like being my girl?"

"Wanted to be your girl for a while," you confess, feeling vulnerable the second it leaves your lips.

Javier response takes you by surprise. He grips you to him, rolling until your body is under his.

He kisses your mouth gently as his hips move lazily against yours. He moves his face back, bracing himself on his forearms and holding your face so he can gaze at you as he slides into your cunt. Your eyes are on his and it makes the experience feel more potent with every thrust. This isn’t fucking. This is making love.

"Fuck you're beautiful," Javier breathes as he watches you arch against him, brows saddling as you keen. You stretch your arms above your head, feeling strangely boneless. Javier sighs, pressing sweet kisses to your breasts, then your throat as he gently drives himself deeper.

"You feel so good," you tell him, eyes glazed as your thighs cradle his hips. "You always feel so fucking good Javi."

Javi.

"I love when you say my name," Javier confesses, pressing a kiss to your mouth before sliding his hips further against yours.

"Thought you liked it when I called you baby?" You smile. "Or papi?"

"I like whatever you call me when you're happy with me."

"I like when you call me pretty girl," you confess, cheeks flushed. You tilt your head to the side shyly and Javier's mouth is on your ear instantly.

"Oh I know that, pretty girl," Javier teases, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw. "And it's true because you are such a pretty girl. So pretty when you come for me."

He grins when he sees you preening under the praise. Now that he knows how you feel he's completely besotted. He rocks into you, mouth on yours as you groan under him, trying not to be too loud. But he can see the flutter of your eyelids and he knows that you’re cresting.

"Don't have to be quiet here," he promises you, mouth grazing along your earlobe. "Wanna hear how good I make you feel. Wanna hear how hard you come for me."

And you do. You come spectacularly for him. Beautiful and raw and completely undone by him, chasing your high and capturing it in a shuddering cry. Javier is overcome by the sight, his entire body breaking out into goosebumps. You’re all his. He gets to make you feel like this.

And when you go to catch your breath and you wait for him to release himself within you, you’re confused when he slides out of you, still hard.

“Javi-“

His mouth is on your cunt within seconds, spreading your thighs luridly for him under the sheets. You pull them back, needing to watch. His dark eyes are like beckoning tunnels as he sucks at your clit.

“You’re gonna come on my tongue this time pretty girl,” he says huskily before his mouth descends between your legs again. You realize why – he never got what he wanted in the club. And you want to insist that he finish, but then his tongue swirls in a very specific spot and your hips nearly jump off the bed.

He grips your ass in his hands, burying his face further into your cunt. You feel his mouth on your clit, his nose dragging against your mound and you buck into it. Already you can feel yourself on the cusp of another orgasm.

“Feels so good baby,” you moan, hands carding through his hair. He hums his approval, his eyes rolling back in pleasure at both the use of baby and as your nails scrape along his scalp. When he lets out a small groan at your whines you feel yourself release again, whimpering when you feel him lapping at your essence.

When he’s had his fill he returns to kiss you. You taste yourself on his lips and you feel your pulse spike. You urge him onto his back, sliding down his length and taking a moment to look at him. He’s so fucking sexy laying back against the pillow. His mouth all swollen from kissing and his hair mussed.

He grins as you begin bouncing on his cock. His hands fly to your hips, guiding you along. He makes you feel fucking amazing and you need him to feel as good as you do. Your hands splay on his chest and your eyes meet his.

“Please,” you whimper. “Fill me up baby, I need it.”

Javier growls, something animalistic at hearing those words. Echoes of the first time you slept together when you twisted your eyes to gaze over your shoulder at him and begged him to come deep.

You rock against him, breasts heaving. Your eyes never leave one anothers, not even when you see his lids growing heavy and his hips begin to stutter. You urge him to fuck you deeper, to take and take and take.

“Come for me, Javi,” you beg, your body jolting against his upward thrusts. “Please, baby.”

And he does. He comes hard, chanting your name over and over as he empties himself into you. His body releasing everything, the tension of what he thought was unrequited affection, the fury of seeing you with Brad, the deep desire he’s held for you. He releases it all.

And you take it eagerly. You rock against him until he sighs and goes boneless. Only then do you gently climb off of him, sliding into his waiting arms as he curls around you. He holds you to him, his mouth searching for yours.

“My pretty girl,” he rasps, moving his hand along the side of your face.

“All yours,” you promise him before pressing a kiss to his smiling mouth.

You both fall into a light doze, waking some hours later to the sound of someone pulling their car into the parking lot. You stretch like a lazy cat against him and Javier holds back a sigh of contentment at waking up with you still in his arms.

“I need a drink,” you say. “I’m parched.”

Javier grins at you, smiling widely before kissing your mouth. “One second.”

He slips on his jeans and ducks out of the bedroom. He comes back with a warm towel and his crochet blanket. He cleans you gently, lovingly. Then he wraps you in the blanket, until just your face is peeking out at him. It reminds him of the first night you spent here. He kisses your nose and you blush.

"Hey, so what did you tell Rosalia?"

"Fuck, not now," Javier says with an embarrassed smile. "Don't make me say it."

Javier's cheeks are flaming red and you can't help but find him completely adorable. You laugh.

"I'll let you off the hook tonight. But only because you made me feel so good."

You walk into his kitchen, taking a seat at his table and looking over at him as he makes you a coffee. He knows how you take it. You go to tell him that you always stop drinking caffeine after two pm but he just places the mug in front of you.

“Decaf,” he explains and it’s not the drink that warms you.

He sits across from you, his eyes so soft as he gazes at you drinking from his mug. There’s something so possessive in him that relishes you wearing his blanket drinking from his mug because you’re his girl.

"I want this to be something," Javier tells you after a few minutes of silence. "Something real. Not a bet. Not a game."

"I don't think it's been a bet for a while Javier," you admit shyly. "At least not for me."

“Me neither.”

You nod, drinking happily as your eyes go unfocussed. He knows that this happens when you’re aroused or you’re deep in thought. He hopes for the former because he intends to keep his promise.

Javier smiles as he watches you go thoughtful, acute fondness for you running through him as you glance around his home. He really likes you. You snap your fingers as if something has just occurred to you.

"Do you have a hammer and nails?"

Javier gives you a strange look before retrieving the items you requested from the hallway closet. He places them into your outstretched hand, watching as you turn and world towards the far wall by the kitchen. The blanket drags behind you as you stop by the wall where one of his framed posters leans against. He’s had it sitting against the wall for months, never knowing where to put it.

"If I'm gonna be staying over your place needs to look less like a prison cell," you tell him.

Javier tries to hold back the grin that threatens to take him over completely. You’re telling him you’re serious about him. You’re telling him you plan on staying over at his place.

He watches bemused as you drive the nail into the wall. You hang the picture up, standing back and admiring your handiwork. Javier walks over to you, eyes full of affection.

He slides his arms around you from behind, gazing at the hung picture. You walked in and you knew exactly where it should go. You lean back against his chest, warmed both inside and out by his presence.

"What do you think?"

Javier’s nose nuzzles your neck. "Beautiful. Your remarkably talented at home design."

"More talented in other things," you murmur against his cheek. You feel his lips curve into a smile, his hands coming to tug the blanket away from your body.

"Show me?"

///

Its hours later and you’re asleep in his bed, in his arms. Your mouth is inches from his and he kisses it softly, as you did to him not so long ago when you thought he was sleeping. He watches the rise and fall of your chest, calmed by the sight.

He loves you, of that he's certain.

But he won't tell you that until months later during a movie you both hate, the two of you snuggled under that same crochet blanket on his sofa as you eat reheated Arepas.

Years later when your belly swells with his first child he'll confess to you what he told Rosalia that drunken night. That he was so in love with you he couldn't stand it. That just being near you made him feel safe and right. That no one made him feel like you do.

"I bet I loved you first," you'll offer with a cheeky grin, but your eyes will be glazed with emotion.

"No more bets," Javier will reply grinning before kissing you.

108 notes · View notes

silent-stories · 5 months

Text

Vampires can't cry

(Vampire!Eddie Munson x gn!reader)

The wood was always calm at night but was never completely silent and after several late night outings to meet Eddie, you had gotten used to crickets chirping rhythmically, frogs croaking in the distance, and the occasional hoot of an owl.

Lovers Lake had become your meeting point for the last few weeks, maybe because when Eddie was not yet aware of a dimension full of monsters beneath Hawkins, that had been the place where you had had your first date together or maybe because it was easy to find during the darkest nights without getting lost.

“When are we going to tell Wayne?” You asked the boy sitting next to you, his gaze on the moonlight bathing the water, creating a silver sheen that stretched across the lake's surface.

"I've been thinking about that for the last few days." He replied after a brief moment of pause, shifting slightly as if to get away from you.

It was something he did often, you had noticed. His shoulder no longer touched yours when he sat next to you and his pale hands didn't seek out yours to play with your fingers like they once did. When you had asked why, he had said that his skin had become cold and no longer gave off that typical warmth that you liked so much before he became... whatever he had become. Vampire,was the more correct term. Monster, he used to call himself.

"And?" You questioned.

"And I think it's best if he doesn't find out."

“Eddie,” You said softly, you knew full well why he didn’t want to tell him he was still there and it made your heart ache every time he reminded you, “he still thinks you’re dead.”

"I'm not?"

You opened your mouth to reply, then stopped. You couldn't deny it, Eddie was dead, his blood was no longer circulating, his skin was as pale as it had ever been, he wasn't eating, he wasn't sleeping, he couldn't stay in the sunlight.

The cool breeze of the night sweeped through the air, causing the leaves of nearby trees to rustle softly and you wrapped yourself in your leather jacket, the one that once belonged to Eddie and that he no longer needed.

"I talk to him often, Eddie. He's hurting, he's grieving. You should... you should let him know that you're not... that you're still here. That he can still talk to you, that he can still hug you, and that even though things are no longer the same, even if they may never be the same again, you are still like a son to him."

Eddie shook his head, a few dark curls falling into his eyes. His hair seemed longer than it was a few months before but you knew that it had probably stopped growing.

You reached out to move them, waiting a moment before your fingers touched his cold skin.

He didn't move away this time.

He closed his eyes as if, after weeks of avoiding your contact, he had reached the point that he could no longer bear to be away from your touch.

"It's better to be dead than-"

“No,” you grabbed his hand, you didn't care that it was cold, “don't say it. No one would rather you were dead. We spent days mourning you. Me, the kids, your uncle, even Steve. I felt like I was dying too, so don't say it would be better if you were dead. You're back. You're here. I can still talk to you, I can still hold your hand and I can still tell you that I love you."

His eyes glittered in the dark. You knew it was only because of his new "condition" and not because of the tears that might form in them.

Vampires couldn't cry, you read.

"How can you still-"

"Love you? Trust me, I can."

His hand moved into yours and for a moment you feared that he was leaving it, that he was about to run away like that time you took Dustin into the woods with you, but instead his fingers slowly intertwined with yours.

"I'm scared." He whispered.

“I know,” you drew circles on the back of his hand with your thumb, “I know.”

“I don't have a heartbeat anymore,” he said after a few moments, bringing your hand to his chest, where a heart had been stopped for about three weeks, “but I'm sure I still love you.”

"I know that too."

In the dark, you swore you saw a tear roll down his cheek.

Impossible, you said to yourself.

Vampires can't cry.

#eddie munson drabble #eddie munson x reader #vampire!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

137 notes · View notes

dameronology · 2 years

Text

buckingham fucking palace (e.m)

a.k.a the one where steve harrington gets sick of you and eddie fighting so he locks you in a room til you make up

warnings: language

hope u enjoy. this has not been proof read lol

-jazz

Steve Harrington was a meddler.

He couldn’t deny it - even though he vehemently tried to do so, with red-tinged cheeks and his brow furrowed deep. It was just natural for him to want to be involved with everyone else’s business. It came from a good place, and almost always a caring one, but minding his business was simply not an option. It was a fact that had been proven multiple times; his forever ongoing involvement in every single one of Robin’s relationships was a testament to that. He had no success stories on that front so far but he bragged to anyone who would listen about how he was single-handedly responsible for the love affair between you and a one Edward Munson.

Ah yes, Eddie Munson. The love of your life; the apple of your eye; the biggest pain in your ass. He was your heart and your soul and everything in between and you were certain you would have ended up with him, with or without Harrington's help. Maybe he had been the catalyst, that one fateful day in senior year science class, but gone were the days of young, stupid love. You were committed now, existing solely with Eddie in the little bubble you'd built for yourself. It consisted mostly of smoking weed and watching films in the trailer - Wayne worked upstate now, so it was essentially yours - but it was the escape you needed from the dull life that Hawkins brought. You were both muddling through community college, trying to make a life for yourselves: any life. Your dreams were a little bit more ambitious than Eddie's, though you were determined to drag him by the ear, probably kicking and screaming, to bigger and better things.

That had been the cause of your latest fight. You didn't often argue - not over serious things, anyway - but what had started over a bicker on the subject of Halloween costumes had turned into a heated debate about the future. It wasn't like you had proposed any ideas of illusions of grandeur; just mentioned something about moving out of the trailer someday. Maybe going to a state college instead of community college.

It had ended in you leaving - not without flipping Eddie off and throwing a chain of swear words his way - and neither of you deciding on a Halloween costume.

The day of the party rolled round and things still weren't sorted. That wasn't a surprise to anyone: you were both stubborn, fiery individuals. Most of the time it was a bonding point but god only knew it could be your weakness as well. The five days of silence had been suffocating but you certainly weren't going to crack first - just as long as Robin was okay with you crashing on her sofa.

It felt weird not being home. It felt even weirder not waking up beside Eddie - your lives and routines were so deeply intertwined that it felt like half of you was missing. Even brushing your teeth in the morning without him beside you was an odd feeling. Still, that didn't stop you from standing on either side of Steve's living room, giving each other the most loving evils ever as The Monster Mash played in the background.

"When are you two going to make up?" Robin asks. She was dressed, perhaps unironically, as Robin Hood.

"When he apologies," you muttered. "I haven't done anything wrong. I just asked like...one mildly vague question about the future. Not my fucking fault that he had to freak out and run off. We've been together since we were fucking freshman, Robin. Fuck this. Fuck that. Fuck him-"

"- okay, you are being loud. And sweary," she cut you off, pulling the solo cup from your hand. "You guys are the best couple I know."

"Exactly!" you exclaimed. "We're great together and we're both really hot."

"And stubborn," Robin muttered. "So I assume that you're not going to apologise to him?"

"Not in a million years."

"Right, brilliant," she couldn't help but roll her eyes. "C'mon, let's get another drink."

Linking her arms with yours, Robin led you over to the drinks table. Your other half - who you considered right now to be your worst half - was no where to be seen. The inflatable guitar that was part of his Ozzy Osbourne costume was abandoned in the corner, which meant he can't have been that far.

"Aw, damn," Robin muttered. "We're out of lemonade."

"That sucks. Just have coke instead-"

"- no, I really specifically wanted lemonade," she over-dramatically sighed. "Do you mind grabbing some from the basement? Please?"

"Are you really that lazy?"

"Yeah."

"Eugh, fine."

Rolling your eyes, you turned on your heel and made your way through the drunk crowds and towards the basement. You weren't even entirely convinced that Steve knew half the people here - after all, like eighty percent of his friends were still in high school. That was the price that came with being Hawkins designated babysitter.

You opened the door to the basement and hopped down the steps, turning the corner towards the fridge at the back. As you did, you crashed straight into someone, letting out an oof!

"Eddie, what the fuck are you doing down here?"

"Steve sent me down for lemonade," he replied. "Why are you-"

You both froze when the click of the lock came from the door. As in the lock on the outside, that neither of you could get to. Your initial reaction was to panic, but it wasn't until you heard the dulcet tones of Harrington that you realised what was going on.

"You can come out when you two make up!" he called. "There is a whole fridge of food and a toilet down there so no excuses, guys!"

"You are a MEDDLER, Steve Harrington!" you called. "I will make you pay for this!"

"Bit rich considering I have the key, don't you think?"

You spun around to face Eddie, who held up his hands in defence. It was clear that he was a little tipsy - definitely not drunk, but definitely not sober - from the way his eyes were glazed over. Also from the way that he didn't start on you as soon as you were alone in the same room. Alcohol normally mellowed him a little.

Your heart hurt a little to see him. You should have been in matching costumes - Jareth and Sarah from Labyrinth, if you were wondering - but instead, he was Ozzy and you were in a half-arsed Stevie Nicks costume. He'd noted as soon as he'd seen you earlier that you looked hot as hell, but his anger had quickly subsided any horniness.

"Ozzy Osbourne and Stevie Nicks, huh?" Eddie was the first to break the silence. "That would be the scandal of the century."

"Yeah, biggest thing since the time you were an ass and-"

"- here we go," he muttered. "Why am I always the ass? Why can't you be the ass? Why can't we both be asses?!"

"Because you were an ass, Eddie!" you shot back. "I can't even talk to you about the near future without you freaking the fuck out. Do you even want to be with me?"

"Are you stupid?" he asked. It was a serious question, but one that came from a place of love. "Of course I want to be with you! I just worry that you don't want to be with me."

You frowned. "I'm confused."

"You have all these...ideas," Eddie began. "About college, and moving away, and getting out of Hawkins. I want that more than anything, even if I'm just tagging along for the ride, but I just..."

"You just what, Eds?"

"I worry that I'm not enough for you," he quietly admitted. "We're perfect where we are - in a trailer park, in Hawkins, just as we are. What if that changes and you realise that your love for me is just...y'know. In a trailer park, in Hawkins, as we are."

"Eddie, I'm gonna love you whether we live in a cardboard box or Buckingham fucking Palace, okay?" you couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. "I just want to be with you. I don't care where it is."

He took a step forward, taking your face in his hands and softly pressing a kiss to your lips. As always, he tasted a little of cigarettes and ever so slightly of the cheap spiced rum that Steve had supplied. Whatever tension had been between you was melting away now by the second.

"I love you," Eddie said. "So let's just stop being scared and start being together, yeah?"

You smiled. "Yeah."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanons #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagines #stranger things fluff #stranger things reader insert #stranger things imagine #stranger things #eddie munson

2K notes · View notes

sidekick-hero · 1 year

Text

hold me close (I’m shaking apart)

(steddie / explicit / part 1 / 6k / AO3 Link at the bottom)

Inspired by this amazing, mind-blowing piece of fanart by @dreaminginpencil (please give the artist and art some love)

Your perspective on a lot of things changes when you save the world and almost die in the process. Like how important high school hierarchies are, or what kind of people you want to spend your time with.

Eddie, for example, never thought he would be hanging out with the likes of Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, or even Robin Buckley, even though she was as much of a social misfit as he was. Not to mention the bunch of fifteen-year-olds, although, to be fair, he had hung out with some of them back in Hellfire. Not that there was anything wrong with those people, far from it. But without the Upside Down, he probably never would have known.

The whole experience taught him a lot, too. Mostly not to judge a book by its cover, a lesson Eddie thought he'd learned a long time ago. In fact, he had prided himself on applying it to his ways in high school, adopting little lost sheep who did not fit in with the crowd.

Apparently, he had been wrong.

Because he also ended up spending more and more time with the former King of Hawkins High himself and that was a book he would have wrinkled his nose at before but found himself addicted to now.

But Eddie was not the only one who had come back from his brush with another dimension, a hellish dimension, a changed man. No one goes through the things they’ve been through unscathed. Eddie was no expert in those matters, but he had the impression that more than anyone else, Steve was the one who had embraced the change that brought the most. It seemed to Eddie like Steve was almost thankful to have left the days of 'King Steve' behind. For one thing, the guy seemed more at ease, more relaxed, than Eddie had ever seen him at school. Steve had stopped holding himself so rigidly all the time, no longer coiled up like a snake ready to strike. Instead, he was goofing off with Dustin or bickering with Robin, acting like a total dork without regard to his reputation.

Eddie knew Steve still regretted a lot of the things he'd done, a truth spilled from Steve’s mouth in the hours between midnight and dawn, but Steve had begun to make peace with his past mistakes.

Leaving 'King Steve' behind also meant that Steve had stopped caring about high school etiquette and social ladders, just like Eddie had. Steve didn't seem to have any problems calling a band geek his platonic soul mate or hanging out with 15-year-olds on a regular basis.

Of all the unlikely friendships Eddie had formed during the literal apocalypse, the one with Steve felt the most unlikely. Hawkins High's freak and king. But those titles had stopped meaning anything, they were just names and had nothing to do with him or with Steve.

It all came down to one simple truth: Steve Harrington was not at all what Eddie expected him to be, and it was confusing him to no end.

Spending time with Steve made Eddie feel unsteady, something he wasn't used to.

Thing is, Eddie’s not blind. He knows what Steve looks like. Even back in high school there had been an awareness of Steve and the way he moved and talked and commanded a room just by walking into it. Eddie had been denying it, of course, willing to believe it was contempt, disdain he felt for the guy, and that was why his eyes would find Steve in any room, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Although at night, in his dreams, he knew the truth.

Back then it hadn't really been a problem. They existed in different social circles, Steve on top and Eddie on the bottom of the ladder. Steve probably hadn't even been aware of Eddie's existence, and that had been fine with him. It had made it easier to ignore the heat that pooled in his stomach when he had to watch Steve in his little gym shorts throwing balls into laundry baskets, or to forget the dreams he woke up from, all sticky and embarrassed.

Their newfound friendship makes dealing with his whatever better and worse. Better, because now that he got to know Steve, the real Steve and not the bastardized version he knew from high school, he realizes what a great guy he is. Steve’s funny without meaning to be, goofy in a way that's endearing and silly at the same time. He could be a bit of a bitch, but when it isn't meant to hurt, it is actually pretty funny to watch him being a petty mean girl.

Steve Harrington also has a depth to him that Eddie didn't expect at all. Isn't it enough that the guy is gorgeous and athletic and charming? No, he has to be sincere and caring as well. That's where things started to get worse for Eddie. Because lusting after Steve Harrington? Old news. Expected, really — how could Eddie be better than at least half the population of Hawkins his age?

It's the feelings underneath the lust that are dangerous, that could get him into trouble.

Steve doesn't help his situation at all, of course. Instead of being aloof and prickly or arrogant, he has to be sweet to Eddie. Seeks him out to ask his opinion on things, like he really cares what Eddie thinks. Asks him to spend time with him, to come over, to watch a movie or just go for a ride to get out of this shitshow of a town. Laughs at Eddie's jokes and listens to his stories, asking questions and looking at him with big, warm eyes.

When they're in the same room, Steve keeps moving closer and closer to him, invading his space as if trying to carve out his own little corner in it. He keeps touching Eddie, brushing against him, breathing against his skin when he leans over his shoulder or whispers in his ear, and Eddie knows it doesn't mean anything, feels bad about the way all these innocent touches make heat build in his stomach, how they make his balls draw tight and his skin feel too small for his body. He doesn't want to feel that way, wants to be normal for once, because Steve is his friend and it feels dirtybadwrong to look at him and think about all the things he wants to do to him.

Like when they celebrated Robin's birthday last month, and everyone had gathered at Steve's big empty house to party. There had been an assortment of drinks, more than a house full of 15-year-olds probably needed, because the only guests of (almost) legal drinking age were Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Steve and himself. Eddie had found himself standing in front of the various bottles, marveling at the sheer potential for alcohol poisoning, when Steve came up behind him and peered over his shoulder.

"Are you expecting a whole fraternity to show up or are you trying to get us all pissed?"

Steve was humming behind him, so close that Eddie could have sworn he could feel the vibration through his back. Eddie was acutely aware of the heat Steve was giving off, goosebumps breaking out all over his body as the electricity of Steve's closeness continued to crackle under his skin. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to stay upright at that point, how he hadn't let out the whimper rising in his throat.

So of course Steve went ahead and made it worse.

He took another step forward and pressed his front fully against Eddie's back, trapping Eddie between the counter and his solid body. He inhaled sharply as he felt the heat through his thin shirt and was hit with Steve's intoxicating scent; musky from the sweat glistening on his flushed skin, mixed with the expensive cologne Steve always wore and the beer he had earlier. Underneath it all was something pure Steve. Eddie's head was spinning from the way Steve was overwhelming his senses.

And then Steve put his mouth right next to Eddie's ear and whispered, "Maybe I just want you to loosen up a little. You seem super tense, dude." Steve's hot breath had hit the sensitive skin of his ear and Eddie couldn't help the shiver that ran through him nor the strangled sound escaping his mouth. He shuffled forward to press himself up against the counter to hide the growing evidence of what Steve was doing to him, and poured himself a drink.

Fuck that shit, he needed it.

A few days later, Steve, Robin and Eddie had gotten together after Robin and Steve's shifts at the Family Video Store to go to the local diner for fries and milkshakes, as they often did. Nothing fancy, just friends hanging out.

Everything had started out pretty normal too, relaxed and easy, joking around, Robin and Steve bickering like an old married couple and Eddie adding fuel to all their playful arguments. They all shared a huge order of fries, but each ordered their own milkshake. Robin chose strawberry, Eddie chose chocolate, and Steve chose vanilla. This, of course, made Eddie grin mischievously at Steve.

"I'm trying so hard not to make a joke right now, Harrington. I hope you appreciate the effort."

All Eddie got for his trouble was a puzzled blink from Steve's hazel eyes. For someone with Steve's reputation, he was surprisingly bad at picking up on innuendo. Eddie was embarrassed at how damn endearing he found it.

Just as Eddie decided it was a lost cause, Steve suddenly leaned forward from where he was sitting across from Eddie, right into his space. Eddie wanted to back away, but was glued to the spot by the intense look in Steve's eyes as his hand came up and moved toward Eddie's face in what seemed like slow motion. Eddie marveled at how big it looked, as if it could easily cradle his entire face in its palm. Of course it didn't. Cradle it, that was. It did, however, touch his face, soft as a butterfly's wing.

Eddie had to squint to see what it was doing so close to his face, but it was gone in an instant, leaving Eddie wondering if he was dreaming the sensation of warm, dry skin touching his cheek just below his left eye.

When he looked back up, Steve was holding up his index finger to him, still leaning in close and looking straight into his eyes with a smile that crinkled their corners. "Make a wish."

There were so many things Eddie could have wished for. A new amp for his sweetheart, a raise at his job at the music store, hell, even world peace. But Eddie is a weak, weak man. And so he wished for something he could never have and felt bad at the sight of Steve's devastating smile as he blew away the eyelash.

It was killing Eddie, and Steve just kept doing shit like that. The more Eddie tried to stay away, to put space between them to protect his fragile heart, the more Steve seemed to seek him out. It was the sweetest kind of torture Eddie had ever felt, and he was sure he was going to lose his fucking mind over it, and soon.

It was not enough to keep him away for good, though.

Like just a few days ago when they had all been over to use Steve's pool and the promise of a nice dip was too much for Eddie to resist. Or so he kept telling himself.

The hot mid-summer sun was beating down on him as he found himself face to face with a group of roughhousing teenagers in the pool. Eddie had no desire to join them while they were still acting like the half-wild gremlins they really were, so he decided to stay by the side of the pool, sprawled out on a towel as small drops of water kept hitting his heated skin and a light breeze caressed him.

He still had his jeans on, but his upper body was bare. It was not easy for him to show off his scarred body like that, he was still self-conscious about the damage he had suffered from being almost torn to shreds by the Demobats, but these were his friends and if he was ever going to reclaim his own body and feel comfortable in his own skin, he had to start somewhere.

However, it was not part of his plan to let anyone touch his body just yet. Even Eddie could hardly bring himself to do it most days, too weirded out by the numbness of some of his scars, too afraid of the pain of touching others. So when Steve approached him with a bottle of sunscreen, he sat up abruptly and tried to get away as quickly as possible without drawing too much attention to himself.

Steve was having none of it.

"Don’t even think about it, Eddie, you look like a lobster. You need to put on some sunscreen before you blister, man."

Fucker was fast, too because before Eddie could even think about reaching for his shirt, muttering about putting it back on, maybe going inside, Steve slid in behind him, his legs bracketing Eddie's and his front to Eddie's back.

So Eddie found himself once again trapped by the most beautiful Venus flytrap and there was no escaping its sweet but deadly embrace.

"Let me give you a hand."

There was nothing he could do, nothing he could say with all the words stuck in his throat, so Eddie just... took it. Just let Steve do whatever the hell he wanted to him. The only thing Eddie did was pray to the heavens to send him the strength he needed to not crumble under Steve's capable hands as they began to spread the cool lotion over the too-hot skin of his back. He shivered at the difference in temperature, his back arching under Steve's hands as he couldn't decide if he wanted them closer or if he wanted to get away from them, unable to stop a small, embarrassing sound from escaping his lips. It was too much.

It wasn’t enough.

Steve's hands worked methodically, in broad strokes that once again reminded Eddie how big Steve's hands were, spanning his entire shoulder blade, the thumbs digging in here in there in an almost massage. Steve kept his touch gentle but sure. He didn't linger, exactly, but he wasn't in a hurry either, taking his took his time, making sure to touch every bit of exposed skin he could reach. Eddie could swear Steve's fingerprints were burned into his skin like a brand and he was glad Steve couldn't see his face, couldn't see the way he kept biting his lips to stifle the moans that clawed their way up his throat, or the way his eyes were pressed together so tightly he could see stars. It felt like Steve’s touch lasted forever, time a useless construct that bent to Steve's will like everything else.

It was over much too quickly.

Eddie mourned the loss of those hands on his skin the moment they were gone as Steve pulled them away, wiping his hands on the towel and standing up, handing Eddie the bottle of sunscreen. "For your front. Let me know if you need me, 'kay?" And then he had the audacity to wink at Eddie.

Eddie looked up at him, blinded by the way the sun lit Steve from behind, hitting his mousy brown hair at an angle that made it look like golden whiskey, his skin sun-kissed and freckled. All those moles splattered all over his body in stark contrast to the caramel color of his skin, inviting Eddie to put his mouth all over them, to worship each and every one of them until he could identify them by the feel against his lips and tongue.

Steve had smiled down at him, happy and carefree, and Eddie thought he'd let himself be torn apart by bats any day if it meant being worthy of a look like that.

What he’s trying to say with all of this: He’s so fucked.

But it's fine. Eddie's fine. He really is.

It's fine that his mind keeps losing track of things when he's around Steve, that he keeps spacing out while staring at his lips or the moles on his neck or those goddamn paws Steve calls hands. It's fine that his dreams lately all seem to involve sweeping brown hair and hazel eyes, and that he wakes up from most of them horny and desperately rutting in his mattress. He's a healthy 21-year-old whose only company lately has been his right hand. A stiff breeze could set him off.

He blames that for giving in so easily.

It's early August, and the heat has grown oppressive, stifling. It's unbearable outside, and even in Steve's room, with all the shades drawn and the air conditioning on, it's barely tolerable. But the trailer is so much worse, so Eddie spends most of his days at Steve's.

Which is fine. He's fine.

He's fine when Steve takes off his jeans after a lot of complaining about them sticking to his thighs, and just wears his boxers and one of those stupid polo shirts he's so fond of, showing off his strong, hairy thighs.

Being fine gets harder (pun intended, Eddie thinks) when Steve doesn't sit back down at the foot of the bed, where he had started before his impromptu striptease, but right next to Eddie, his back to the headboard.

They're sitting close together, shoulder to shoulder, thighs almost touching and Eddie can feel the heat of Steve's leg even through his jeans. It makes very aware of his own layers; a long-sleeved Hellfire shirt and ripped jeans. After the sunscreen incident (as he calls it in his head) he couldn't stand the thought of his bare skin anywhere near Steve.

Steve does not seem to have any such reservations. As he settles more comfortably on the bed, his bare forearm presses against Eddie's clothed one, just a thoughtless, careless touch, but Eddie's heart stutters at the contact, missing several beats. It tries to make up for it with rapid thundering. This awareness of Steve has been growing steadily, building and building, for weeks and Eddie feels it's about to reach its crescendo. The air around them seems to crackle with energy, causing the leg resting next to Steve's to bounce.

The heavy weight of Steve's hand as it comes to rest on his thigh to stop his restless movement almost makes him jump, his muscles tense from the effort to hold still when all he wants to do is vibrate right out of his skin. The heat of Steve's palm sears his skin even through the layer of clothing between them and Eddie feels as if it will forever be marked by Steve Harrington. Thinks he wouldn't mind wearing some visible proof of it, something that said 'Property of Steve', like wearing his letterman jacket or his class ring. Eddie thought he left those silly dreams behind a long time ago, but teenage dreams die harder than you think.

"Hey, man, are you okay?" Steve asks with a hint of worry in his voice, his eyes serious as they look at Eddie, as if he's trying to say You can tell me and I want to make it better. But Eddie can't and Steve won't.

But it's fine, he can be fine.

"Nah, all good. Sorry. The heat's getting to me, making me a little crazy, I guess."

"Might be you’re wearing so many fucking layers, dude.” He says it teasingly, tongue-in-cheek and Eddie forces a chuckle, hopes Steve will drop it if he makes a joke out of it.

He must not be very convincing because Steve just keeps looking at him and Eddie can hardly stand it, this all-consuming focus on him. Not because it's too much, but because now that he has it, he knows he'll crave it even more. He already wants Steve's eyes on him all the time, wants to be the center of Steve's attention as much as Steve is his; the axis around which his days revolve.

Eddie has always been greedy.

"You ever fooled around with another guy?"

Steve's words are like a bucket of cold water poured over his head, like the needle jumping on the record and making that scratchy sound. Has he ever…What the fuck, Harrington?

Eddie’s frozen in shock, breath caught and heart no longer beating, suspended in the air and afraid of the drop. Finds himself at a loss for words, something that doesn't happen very often in his life, thinks that he must be dreaming, one of those dreams where he's going to have to change his sheets again.

"Have I ever - " He swallows, but it goes down the wrong pipe and he coughs instead, has to lean forward with his fist to his mouth, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Steve tries to help and puts a hand on his back, rubbing it in soothing circles as if he hadn't just dropped a fucking bomb in Eddie's lap. You ever fooled around with another guy?

When the coughing subsides, he takes a shuddering breath, hoping Steve will drop the subject, move on as if Eddie won't lie awake tonight repeating those words over and over again in his head.

He should have known better by now — Steve Harrington isn't one to let things go.

"So have you? You can tell me, I won't tell anyone, promise."

Jesus Christ.

"Can't say I have, Stevie.” Eddie tells him the truth, but keeps to himself how much he wishes he had. “What about you? Those communal showers after basketball practice ever get," he pauses for effect, "steamy?"

There's a fine dusting of red on Steve's cheeks and his eyes have gotten bigger, glassy. He bites his lip, and Eddie's eyes immediately fall to them, mouth watering as he thinks about replacing Steve’s teeth with his own.

"No, we— I didn't— But." Another pause, another bite, as Steve's eyes drop to Eddie's mouth as well. Eddie licks over them compulsively and sees Steve's eyes follow the movement with eyes that are more black than hazel.

"But?" He almost whispers, too afraid to startle Steve and break whatever spell he's under.

"But I always wondered. How it would feel. If it's as good. Better." His breathing speeds up and Eddie matches it, feeling as if he's already been around the football field a few times.

That tension keeps on building, and Eddie has no idea what will happen when it reaches its breaking point.

If he even wants to find out.

If he can take any more.

If he'll survive whatever comes next.

But Eddie has already proven that his survival instincts are all fucked up, so instead of backing off, instead of ending the madness here once and for all, Eddie jumps right in.

"Why didn't you try it? Don't tell me King Steve couldn't have pulled a hot piece of ass if he wanted to."

He’s playing with fire, he knows that, but no one could have prepared him for the smoldering heat in Steve's eyes as he looks up at Eddie. "Maybe. If I'd asked, Tommy would have, I think. I didn't though." His hand reaches across their bodies and slides up Eddie's arm, settling on his shoulder as if it belonged there. "But I'm asking now."

Eddie's stomach clenches with how much he wants this, wants it so bad he can taste it on his tongue, his skin tingling at the mere thought of getting his hands on Steve's skin. But he has to be sure, he has to know. "What are you asking?”

"I'm asking if you want to experiment. See what it's like."

"You want to —" And here he thought Steve would want to — stupid. Eddie is so stupid.

"Experiment, man, it doesn't have to mean anything, right?"

Right. It doesn't have to mean anything. He can have the former King of Hawkins High in his bed, gets to have Steve in his bed, and it won't mean anything. Can't mean anything.

There’s never even been a question what Eddie’s answer would be.

It'll be fine. Eddie can be fine with this.

"Okay, man. Yeah. Whatever. We can, y'know, experiment. What do you want to do?"

A long breath leaves Steve in something close to a sigh, as if he had been nervous, holding his breath in anticipation of Eddie's reaction. As if Eddie's answer meant something to him. As if Eddie would ever be able to say anything to him but yes.

It's probably just horniness, Eddie thinks. He knows Steve hasn't had a date in months, hasn't slept with anyone since before the whole Vecna and Apocalypse thing happened. He knows this because Steve told him, unprompted, unwanted, but listening with bated breath. Eddie was a glutton for punishment because he never stopped Steve from talking about the girls he dated, the kisses and the sex he missed, but apparently not enough to go out and get it. He's probably just tired of his own right hand.

Steve leans forward, using the hand still on Eddie's thigh for leverage while the hand on Eddie’s shoulder pulls him in before it slides up to Eddie’s neck. His mouth is inches from Eddie's as he whispers, "Touch me, Eddie.” before pressing them against Eddie’s.

It's everything he's dreamed of, everything he's wanted since Steve Harrington stumbled into his life and turned it upside down. Well, more upside down. But it's also too much, overwhelming in its suddenness, so he finds himself frozen like a deer in the headlights, not even pressing back, just staring at the beautiful boy in front of him like he's having an out of body experience. This was not supposed to happen, not outside of his dreams.

Steve whines against his unresponsive lips and bites the plush shape of his lower lip. "Eddie, please. Touch me."

It’s the please, sounding almost broken as it falls out of Steve’s mough, that breaks the spell like some kind of counter-curse. Eddie lurches forward and catches Steve's lips in a clumsy kiss. It's not like he really knows what he's doing, because while he's never made out with another guy, he's never made out with a girl either. It's not exactly his first kiss, but close enough. It's certainly the first one that means something, the first one he cares about making good.

Steve doesn't seem to care, only pressing harder against Eddie, sliding his tongue across Eddie's lips and grinning at the startled gasp that falls from Eddie's mouth. Steve takes the opportunity to deepen their kiss and Eddie can't help but moan at the wet heat of Steve's tongue sliding past his parted lips and into his mouth. The sensation is foreign, but so damn good. His hand finds its way to the back of Steve's neck, sliding up his nape and grasping the fine hair there. Tugging on it purely on instinct, earning himself a broken whimper.

Touch me, Eddie.

Your wish is my command, Eddie thinks as his other hand pushes up Steve's shirt and finds the thick patch of chest hair that keeps taunting him from the neckline of Steve’s goddamn polo shirt. It's maddening to have it right in front of him every day and not be able to bury his face in it like he wants to. He still doesn't dare, but he lets his nails scratch at the skin underneath and his fingers play with the coarse hair as they begin to wander and explore Steve's chest.

It's hard to keep track of things when Steve keeps kissing him like he's trying to take Eddie apart with just his mouth. He's currently luring Eddie's tongue into his own mouth, sucking on it like he's starving and Eddie's tongue is the only thing that can save him. It's a fuckin' distraction, but it's also the best thing he’s ever felt, has him already so hard it hurts where his dick presses against the stiff material of his jeans.

He shouldn't have gone commando, but it's laundry day.

In school, he's always had trouble prioritizing things. Everything was equally important — band practice, Hellfire, and technically schoolwork. It's the same here. He wants to focus on kissing Steve silly, but he also really, really wants to find out how much skin he can get away with touching before Steve ends their little experiment.

It's the thought that this might be his only chance to find out how Steve feels under his hands that decides it. He slows his own kisses, letting Steve take over for now, while he continues to wander his fingers, letting them find Steve's nipple and give it an experimental stroke with his thumb. It pebbles underneath, a hard bundle of nerves begging to be played with.

His heavy lidded eyes lift to Steve's face to gauge his reaction, and finding Steve biting his lower lip, pupils dilated and eyelids at half-mast, Eddie takes that as a good sign.

So he does it again, harder. Hears Steve's breathing quicken, so he licks his thumb and adds some spit to make the glide easier. And that? That elicits a throaty moan from Steve, a sound he's never heard before, and it goes straight to his dick. If he's not careful, this will be over embarrassingly fast.

Eddie has always been a curious guy. He likes to just try shit out and see what happens. It's an approach that seems to extend to the bedroom because he has no idea what he's doing here, but that doesn't stop him — if anything, it makes him bolder, more daring. Hungrier.

He's fascinated by how sensitive Steve's nipples seem to be, how responsive Steve is to having them played with, so he pinches one of them between his thumb and forefinger next, and the result will be featured in so many wet dreams to come. Steve arches his back as if he's being electrocuted, choking out a broken moan so needy and raw that it makes Eddie squeeze his legs together in a desperate attempt to stave off his own orgasm.

"You're a wet dream, Harrington, moaning like a fucking whore for it. Anyone ever tell you that?" Eddie can't help but ask, his mouth running away from him as it tends to do. All that blood rushing south from his brain makes him stupid.

How did he ever get so lucky? If this is his reward for being willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, he feels like he's being royally rewarded. Another pun fully intended.

"Shut up, fuck, just shut up." Steve says, begs really, no heat behind his words. He almost sounds — desperately turned on by Eddie’s words. Huh. Eddie squirrels the thought away for later, when he can dissect it in peace while touching himself to the memory of Steve's sounds.

They both stop kissing, at least for now, so Eddie leans his forehead against Steve's and they both watch as Eddie's hand moves down, inch by agonizing inch, following the inviting trail of dark hair that runs from Steve's chest to where it disappears under the waistband of his boxers. As if a flimsy barrier of cotton could keep Eddie from where he so desperately wants to go.

Dipping his fingers under the material, he's delighted to find more coarse hair and the leaky head of Steve's cock, straining against its confines. The second his ring finger touches the hot flesh, it jerks and Eddie licks his lips in anticipation, transfixed by the sight through the almost see-through, soaked material covering the tip of Steve's dick.

The movement of Eddie's tongue seems to jolt Steve out of his own reverie, his eyes tearing away from Eddie's hand as he moves back in to capture Eddie's lips once more in a searing kiss, this one slower, deeper. Eddie would be lying if he said he has never thought about what King Steve is like in bed, what turns him on, what he likes to do to his partners. He doesn't know about King Steve, but this Steve? This Steve loves to kiss. It honestly surprises Eddie, in the best way possible.

Eddie's hand dips further, pushing away the offensive material and freeing Steve's cock. He wishes he could see it, see his hand grasp the shaft and slide along the silky smooth skin, but his current position doesn’t allow for it and he can’t bring himself to part with Steve’s lips, not even for this. Maybe it's better that he can't. It keeps him from overthinking it — this way it's almost like jerking off, only with a bigger dick, because goddamn, all those rumors about King Steve's royal rod? Absolutely true.

But he can't get a good rhythm. It's too dry, making the slide bumpy and uncomfortable. Steve seems to agree, because his hand leaves Eddie's neck to reach behind him, rummaging blindly through his bedside table drawer while still kissing Eddie, pulling him along with the magnetism of his eager mouth until he finds what he's looking for.

A bottle of lube.

Steve opens the cap with one hand while the other is still on Eddie's thigh, where it has moved higher, gently stroking along the inseam of his jeans. It has already wandered dangerously close to the hard outline of Eddie's dick, and Eddie knows that once it reaches its target, the game is over. Game, set and match.

That's why he moves to tuck Steve's boxers under his balls and reaches for some lube with his other hand. Eddie doesn't want to hurry, wants to draw this out as long as Steve will allow Eddie to touch him. But even more than that, he wants Steve to come first, to hide from Steve how hot and bothered Steve's own pleasure is making Eddie. He can't let Steve know how the breathy little moans and whimpers, the ragged breathing against his spit-slicked lips, are enough to drive Eddie crazy and make him come untouched any minute now.

Thank God they're on the same page here. Steve squirts some lube on Eddie's outstretched palm and he reaches for Steve's hard dick again, spreading the lube over it, enjoying the smooth glide, the wet squelching sounds as his hand picks up speed. They've stopped kissing to deal with the lube issue, but now that it's done, Steve finds his lips once more and they continue to lick into each other's mouths as Eddie strokes Steve in earnest. His mouth has begun to ache in the best way, as has his wrist.

He welcomes the pain as proof that this is really happening.

"Eddie." His name falls from Steve's lips in a tone that comes straight from Eddie's wettest dreams. Needy. Breathless. In awe of how Eddie makes him feel, and it goes to Eddie's head. Goes to his dick, too, makes his balls tighten. "Eddie, I'm close. I'm so close."

"It's okay, Steve, you can come. It's fine." It isn't. It will be over after that. The end of their experiment. But that's what they agreed to. It's Eddie's own goddamn fault if he's not fine.

"Nuh-uh." Steve starts to shake his head, and it spreads to the rest of his body, which starts to tremble with his efforts to hold himself back. He almost looks in pain and Eddie can’t have that, only ever wants Steve to feel good.

"What do you need, what is it, tell me. Let me give it to you." Too much, he thinks. You always give too much, Eddie.

But Steve had carried him out of hell, literally out of hell. He would give Steve everything. Everything, and it still wouldn't be enough.

"I need you to come too, Eddie. Come on. Want to feel it." And his treacherous hand finally reaches for Eddie's aching dick where it strains against his jeans to eagerly meet Steve's hand. "Please, Eddie. Together." Steve presses the heel of his hand against the hot flesh, rubbing up and down exactly twice before Eddie comes in his fucking pants like the virgin he is.

He whines deep in his throat, then grunts. The sound shouldn't be sexy, but it's what pushes Steve over the edge, spurts of cum landing on his belly and getting caught in his treasure trail. Good thing I pulled up his shirt, Eddie thinks to himself as he keeps pumping Steve's dick, milking the release from it, unable to stop touching Steve. Steve whines when it gets to be too much, nerve endings too sensitive for any kind of touch, so Eddie lets him go, even if he doesn’t want to.

Exhausted, Steve's head comes to rest in the crook of Eddie's neck as he tries to catch his breath. His breath tickles him and cools his overheated skin even more quickly.

Eddie has come all over his hands and, lacking anything to wipe them with, wipes them on Steve's sheets. It's a testament to how out of it Steve is that he doesn't even bitch at Eddie about it, just continues to huff against his skin.

Steve's ragged breathing slows after a minute or two, but his head stays where it is on Eddie's shoulder, Steve's nose pressed against the sweaty skin between Eddie's neck and collarbone. Eddie has never felt closer to another person in his entire life and it terrifies him.

"So. Are you satisfied with our experiment? Did you sate your curiosity?" Eddie is a masochist, it seems, presenting his stomach and inviting Steve to stick the blade where it hurts.

Steve sighs, contented.

"Yeah, man, that was good. Still a few questions though." His speech is slurred and Eddie suspects that Steve is one of those guys who is too out of it after an orgasm to do much else but sleep.

He's proven right when he feels Steve's body sagging against his and little snuffling sounds coming from Steve. He's fallen asleep, leaving Eddie to freak out in peace.

How considerate.

Also on AO3.

My undying thanks and love to my partners in crime, @yournowheregirl and @legitcookie for cheering me on and being the absolute joys that they are 💜

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #my writing #nsft #there are two more parts planned but this can stand alone just fine #thank you Jen and Alice for polishing those dicks with me lol #I don't even know how to write without you anymore #💜💜💜

390 notes · View notes

troubleluli · 2 years

Text

Busted

Summary: During summer Y/N Henderson and Steve Harrington start dating while Dustin was at the camp, they’re thinking about how to tell him when he runs into them and freaks out.

Type: Fluffy and a bit of angst (maybe, idk)

Warnings: Cursing.

Note¹: this is the first time ever I’m writing so be nice pls

Note²: also english it’s not my first language so be nice (again) pls

Word count: 1.2k

(not my gif)

During the hunt for dart Y/N Henderson and Steve Harrington became friends, they couldn’t stand staying near to each other before and now they’re kicking some demodogs ass. Well, life is weird. Hawkins is weird. When everything ended, Dustin and Steve still hung out together and you were dragged with them. You didn’t complain though you like to spend time with your brother and you wouldn’t admit but like Steve’s company.

When your brother heads to his summer camp you decide to keep hanging out with Steve and without your brother every meeting looks like a date till you guys make it official. Is cool dating Steve, he was not an ass anymore and he’s also a dork which made you laugh a lot, you love it.

As summer was on Steve got himself a job that you loved. You can get free ice cream whenever you’re there, he just can't deny it to you. Meanwhile Steve's wearing a really cute and funny sailor uniform that he proclaims every 2 seconds he hates. So now is just one of those days that you spend at Scoops Ahoy at the back enjoying your ice cream while chatting with your boyfriend.

“So Dustin is coming home soon and I don't want him to know about us yet, don't get me wrong, but I know my brother and even though you're his best friend he still gonna want to kill you.” Steve's eyes widen after you said your brother might want to kill him, you chuckle but calm him down “he loves you babe, everyone knows that but I’m still his older sister and he feels he needs to protect me. He’ll probably just try to threaten you for a while, then he’ll be supportive and plan our wedding.” you giggle at the end of your sentence because you know that's not a lie, Dustin probably will want to plan your wedding.

Steve relax with that and kisses you, you guys start making out at the back of Scoops Ahoy while Robin covers Steve for a few minutes but then someone bust out the door, you jump a little and Steve was ready to tell Robin fuck off for a few more minutes but another voice come out.

“WHAT. THE. FUCK.”

“You gotta be kidding me, my fucking sister Steve, MY SISTER, she’s off limits. You knew. I told you.” Dustin looks like he’s gonna explode, this is not how you want your brother to find out about it. Actually, Dustin seeing you and Steve making out was something you wish he would never see.

“Hey, relax Henderson, let’s talk.” Steve tries to calm him down.

“NO. Y/N let’s go home” Dustin says sharply.

“Dusty, c’mon, don’t need to act like that.” You plead for your brother “and when you came back? you didn’t tell me that you’re coming home now” you’re confused, your little brother is back after a whole month at a camp and he didn’t go for you.

“Yesterday.” He sighs, “mom told me you’re sleeping over so I decided I wanted to surprise you.” He points to you, looking a little sad “but then I came here expecting to see my best friend and he is sucking my sisters’ face” now pointing to Steve and his anger is back.

“Bro, I wasn’t sucking your sister's face,” Steve simpered “we’re just making out.” You slap your boyfriend’s arm muting a “not helping.”

“I don’t care, let’s go Y/N.” He starts to walk off but you drag him back, setting him down at the other side of the room and blocking the door.

“You’re not going. We’re not going.” You sigh, letting your head fall back a little, shutting your eyes, then you look at your boyfriend with pleading eyes, almost like you're crying for help. “Look, after you went to that camp Steve and I keep seeing each other, and without you here, we um… we realize we like each other more than just friends.” You shrug, not really knowing how to tell your brother about it.

“Yeah, we really like each other buddy.” Steve says camly, trying not to piss Dustin off even more. “I know you said I shouldn’t hit on your sister, but she’s amazing. It’s kinda hard not to fall in love with her.” He smiles and looks at you lovely, you can’t help but smile back.

“Okay, cut that bullshit,” Dustin says firmly. You stare blankly at your brother. He's really enraged. “How long has this been happening?”

“Almost a month,” Steve answered quietly.

“OH MY-” his jaw drops a little “you guys started dating almost as soon as I left. What a best friend and what a sister I have” Dustin says letting his arms fall next to him, he is overreacting.

You don’t know what to say anymore. Your brother is hurt, you see that but didn’t plan to make him furious, you thought he would just freak out a little, intimidate Steve and then be happy about you guys. But he can’t snap out of the “freak out phase” and it’s beginning to get on your nerves.

“SHUT UP DUSTIN!” You yell. He and Steve stare blankly at you, definitely not expecting you to lose it. “Look, I get that you’re upset about it. We didn’t tell you ‘cause you’re away having fun at the camp, so it didn't seem the right time to tell you.” Your brother looks more relaxed now and you keep going, “Steve and I wanted to tell you, we’re just talking about it before you walk in.” You take a deep breath before continuing, “we really like each other, he makes me happy and I know you want to see me happy. I enjoy spending time with him. He's gentle with me and funny and I really love him. So if you're afraid that he’s gonna break my heart you’re totally allowed to kick his ass.” You grin, Steve eyes widened and he interferes, “hey, hey, hey, no one's gonna kick my ass because I’m not going to break your heart baby.” He kisses your cheek.

You flush a little and clean your throat, “So, as I was saying, if you’re also afraid that you’re gonna spend less time with us, don’t. We’re a team. We’re not gonna split. Never.” You say with a warm smile to comfort your brother and he sends you a toothless smile.

Dustin hugs you and looks deadly to Steve. “You know, break her heart and I’ll break you.” And the threat is here. Steve holds his hands up like he's surrendering. “Not gonna happen.” He winks at you and you giggle.

Dustin sighs, “I have a few things to say.” He starts. “First of all, no kissing when I’m around. Second, don’t flirt or say/do gross things when I'm here.” You nodded, he’s not asking for anything absurd, “yeah, whatever.” Steve says deadpan and you glare at him.

“Fine Dusty.” You sound kinda annoyed and can’t help but grin at it. It's cute to see your brother acting like that.

Dustin cracks his hands, “but let's get to business.” He makes a dramatic pause glancing between you and Steve. “I intercepted a secret russian communication.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrignton x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #henderson!reader #dustin henderson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic

2K notes · View notes

hbyrde36 · 11 months

Text

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 2

Ch 1 ao3 link

*Eddie - 1986*

Dustin burst in the door without knocking. A habit Eddie had been trying to break him out of for years. One of these days he’d do it at the wrong time and see something he’ll wish he hadn’t. Maybe then he’d learn his lesson.

“So, don’t freak out but…”

“Ugh” Eddie groaned, pushing his face further into his pillow. “It’s never good when you start a sentence like that. At least let me get some coffee first.”

“Fine.” Dustin relented, stomping back out into the kitchen of the Munson trailer.

Ten minutes later and with coffee in hand, Eddie motioned for Dustin to continue with whatever nonsense he’d woken him up for this morning.

“I told the guys about Steve, about you knowing him.”

“Dustin!” Eddie shouted, incredulously.

“What? It’s not like it’s some big secret or something!”

“You didn’t know!”

“No, I didn't. But I should have realized, and I shouldn’t have said what I did the other night about him. That wasn’t cool. That’s why I told them, because I felt bad, and because I was thinking that maybe we could do a little investigation of our own?”

The kid meant well and it was sweet that he wanted to do something to make Eddie feel better, but what did he think he and a bunch of teenagers would be able to do about it?

Eddie shook his head. “I already told you man, his parents are loaded. I’m sure they left no stone unturned. What could we possibly do that they haven't already tried?”

Dustin’s face spread into a cocky grin. “For starters, Mike talked to Nancy. Did you know she dated Steve for a little while right around the time Will got lost in the woods?”

He had known that actually. In fact he vividly remembered catching the two of them in the boy’s bathroom that one time. He’d never thought about it in reference to Steve’s disappearance before though. The couple had broken up a few months before it happened.

“Yea, okay. So, they dated. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I'm not sure if it does, but the police never even talked to her. Mike said she was willing to talk to us about him, if you want.”

Eddie couldn’t believe he was actually considering this, but it was hard to deny how intrigued he was to learn more about Steve. Even if it didn’t lead to any answers about what had happened to him.

“You know what? Fuck it. Let's do it.” Eddie declared, slamming his now empty cup down on the table for emphasis.

“Language! I am a child!.” Dustin gasped, in a dramatic impersonation of his mother.

“Shut it, nerd.”

“You literally play D&D with children! Who’s the nerd now?!”

Eddie had never really had a full conversation with Nancy. They said hi in passing, and whenever he came to the house to play with the boys of course, but that was the extent of it. Now he was supposed to sit here in the Wheeler’s basement, like it was any other day, and talk to her about her ex boyfriend. Awkward.

Or, maybe not.

According to Dustin, Nancy knew all about their game, including how she, Steve, and many others were used as characters in it. She understood their curiosity. She herself had always thought that there was something suspicious about the whole thing. That maybe there was more going on in Hawkins than a single missing boy.

“Do you remember the day in the cafeteria, when Steve got into that screaming match with Tommy and Carol?”

Eddie shook his head. “No, but I heard it was brutal.” He’d skipped out early that day to meet up with Rick for more product. The whole school was buzzing about it the next day, he could have kicked himself for missing the show.

“It was. I was shocked. I had never seen him act like that. I know he and I hadn’t been together that long, so I could be wrong, but It seemed so out of character. I mean, everything he said was true, and those two probably deserved it, but the three of them had been best friends for years. He never stood up to them before, so why now? It felt like it came out of nowhere.”

She paused, taking a breath and gathering her thoughts before continuing.

“I remember him looking at me, just before he stormed off when it was all over. He didn’t look mad, it was more like.. I don’t know, scared, maybe?”

Well, that was a little ominous. Eddie and the younger boys shared a look as Nancy got up from her seat on the couch and started pacing.

“He called me later that night and asked me to come over so we could talk. When I got there, he stepped out onto the porch instead of letting me come inside. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but looking back, it was a little odd. We sat on the steps and he said that he was sorry, but he couldn’t see me anymore. I asked him if there was someone else, but he said no. He just wanted to be single for a while and concentrate on other things. It was fine. I don’t think either of us were too upset about it. We hugged and said our goodbyes, and that was the last time I spoke to him.”

She stopped pacing, standing directly in front of Eddie as she finished her story.

“I still saw him around, of course, and heard about how he quit the school teams. Which seemed weird, because, what was this more important thing he was focusing on? Clearly it wasn’t sports. Then he started skipping school, so it wasn’t about his grades either. I started to wonder if maybe he had gotten into drugs or something.”

Or, he could have just been lying to let you down easy, Eddie thought, but that wasn’t very kind. Instead he said, “If he was, he wasn't getting them from me.”

Dustin gasped. “Wait, dude, are you really a drug dealer?”

Fuck. “Um. No?”

“You are! You’re totally a drug dealer!” Dustin said, bouncing in his seat and pointing a finger in Eddie’s face.

Eddie groaned. “Please stop yelling ‘drug dealer’ before Mike's parents hear you and kick me out!”

“Does that mean you smoke pot?” Lucas asked.

“Can we smoke pot?” Mike added quickly, grinning.

“Absolutely not!” Eddie and Nancy shouted, simultaneously.

He turned to her, hands raised. “For the record, I don’t sell anymore. Not since my supplier went to jail.”

Dustin’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh shit, is Reefer Rick a real person?”

Nancy gave Eddie a hard look.

“What?! We all used people from our life in the game!” He said defensively. “Look, guys, I think we’re getting off track here.”

“Is there anything else weird you remember about Steve from before he disappeared?” Will asked Nancy, speaking for the first time. Eddie threw him a grateful smile.

“Not that I can think of.”

“What about his parents?” Lucas asked.

“I never met them, but he always said his dad was an asshole. The way he talked sometimes, it sounded like they weren’t around a lot.”

The image of it flashed in Eddie’s mind for a moment. Steve, all by himself in that big empty house of his. Haunting its hallways in the middle of the night. He shook his head roughly to clear it.

Maybe it was silly to think of it that way. What teenage boy wouldn’t love having the house to himself? No one hassling you or telling you what to do. He couldn’t explain why, but somehow he didn’t think Steve liked being alone.

Eddie was startled when Nancy placed a hand on his arm. She looked at him, face pinched with concern. He realized suddenly that they were alone. He’d been so lost in thought that he didn’t realize the boys had left. She saw him looking around and explained.

“I sent the boys upstairs for lunch. It looked like you needed a minute.”

“Yea, sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately.” He got up to collect his things, and headed towards the basement steps.

“It’s the time of year. I get it, I've been thinking about him a lot too.” She said, following him.

Eddie shook his head. It wasn’t the same, she was allowed to think about Steve. To miss him. What right did Eddie have? “That’s different. You dated the guy. We weren’t even friends.”

“You’re allowed to miss him, Eddie.”

“No, I'm not.”

“He thought you were brave, y’know.”

“What?” He stopped walking, but couldn’t bring himself to turn around to face her.

“He told me once, the first time I sat with him for lunch. You had jumped up on your table, ranting and raving about whatever had bothered you that day.” She sounded amused at the memory. “Tommy and the others sneered and complained, but not Steve. He smiled as he watched you. He said, ‘sometimes I wish I could be brave like that. Just stop caring about what everyone else thinks and be free’.”

He finally looked back at her over his shoulder. She smiled at him kindly, it seemed genuine so he returned the gesture.

“Thanks, Wheeler.”

Eddie didn’t stay to join the boys for lunch, though he did make plans to meet up with them the next day. He needed some time alone to process what they’d learned so far. He did his best thinking in the van, so he drove around town aimlessly, blasting Metallica and trying to sort through it all.

Eventually he made his way to Loch Nora, slowing when he reached Steve’s street. He’d never been inside the Harrington house, but he knew where it was. There was no car in the driveway, so he rolled to a stop in front of it. A ‘For Sale’ sign was stuck in the grass a few feet to the right of the mailbox.

He hadn’t realized Steve’s parents were selling the place. Good, Eddie thought. It would make his next task that much easier. He’d come up with a plan, of sorts, as he cruised around Hawkins. The first step? A good old fashioned breaking and entering.

*Steve - 1983/1984*

Two days after finding Eleven out in the woods, Steve cut ties with all his friends. He made a big scene out of calling Tommy and Carol assholes in the middle of the cafeteria, to really drive the point home. He turned himself into a social pariah overnight, anything to keep people from wanting to get close to him.

He let Nancy go. It was easy enough. He found that he wasn’t even all that upset about it, he knew she wouldn't be too sad either. He’d seen how she looked at Jonathan that day at school, when the news broke that Will was missing. They would get together before too long, he was sure of it.

He quit the swim team, basketball, and only continued going to school because dropping out would be too suspicious. He started skipping days a lot.

Eleven, who he’d taken to calling El for short, needed her own space. He would have loved to decorate the guest room for her, would have let her paint the walls and everything. Unfortunately, his parents still came home on occasion, and it would be too hard to hide. Instead, they worked together to fix up a space for her in the attic. Even when they were home, his parents never went up there.

He didn’t know anything about little girls, but neither did El, so they figured things out together. He set her up with a T.V. to keep her company when he was gone during the day. He gave her a bunch of catalogs to look through, and told her to take a marker and circle anything she liked. Clothes, bedding, curtains, toys, he bought it all. Perks of the Harrington name, and a credit card with a high spending limit.

By the time her attic room was done, she finally felt secure enough to sleep in her own bed. She felt safe in the knowledge that her new brother wouldn’t abandon her as she slept, or lock her inside. Sometimes though, he would wake up to find she’d come into his room in the middle of the night. Almost always when it rained.

They quickly became a little family, he and El. Steve didn’t have any siblings, hadn’t thought he even liked kids, and certainly never knew how much he wanted a little sister until she came along. He taught her what he knew about the world, and in return he learned the importance of patience and kindness. Together, they discovered unconditional love.

For a few wonderful months, life was good. There was a little hiccup in January of ‘84, when eleven accidentally knocked a vase off the counter in the kitchen. It was fine. She caught it with her mind before it hit the floor, then levitated it back upright on the counter. It was the first time she’d used her powers in front of Steve. Powers he had been completely unaware of.

He’d hyperventilated for a while, but once he recovered he explained to her that, ‘No sweetie, I didn’t know you could do that, but it’s fine. I promise. No, I'm not afraid of you. It’s just another part of you, and I love who you are.’

It was another turning point for them, a catalyst that compelled her to explain more about where she came from. What sort of things they did to her at the lab, and she finally told him all about Papa and the other children.

Steve had never pushed her on any of it, happy to just keep her safe, and wait until she was ready to talk. Once she did? Well, he was fucking livid. It was all he could do not to go to the newspapers, or Chief Hopper, and blow the whole thing wide open. Hell, he would have found the place himself and burnt it to the ground if he didn’t know for a fact that there were other kids living inside.

In the end, he did nothing. Too afraid that if he was caught, or worse, there would be no one who knew about El, or where she was. There would be no one to take care of her.

It was all his fault. He should have known better. It was his job to take care of her, and he had failed in that task spectacularly. It was spring break 1984, Easter Sunday. He’d just wanted to take her out to breakfast, something he could remember doing with his own parents for the holiday when he was young. Back when they at least pretended to give a shit about him.

They were as safe about it as they could have been. He picked a small restaurant two towns over, where no one would recognize them. She looked so happy when she smiled at him over her massive stack of waffles.

He didn’t see it for what it was, when the two nondescript white work vans pulled into the parking lot of the diner. Movies had him envisioning a legion of fancy black town cars pulling up on him one day, a swarm of dark suits surrounding him, demanding to know where the girl was. He should have known that Papa would be a bit more subtle.

The bell above the main entrance door dinged as a new customer entered. El looked up reflexively at the sound and her eyes went wide. It was the only warning Steve had before a tall man with white hair and an impeccably tailored gray suit slid into the booth next to him.

“Hello, Eleven. You’re looking well.”

Steve watched as she curled in on herself. Turning back into the little girl he found in the woods right before his eyes.

“Papa.” She gasped, bottom lip trembling.

The man turned to look at Steve. “I’m Dr. Brenner. Now, don’t go getting any big ideas, young man. I have people on every door to this place. You’ll never make it to that pretty car of yours in time, and I can assure you that if you try, they will not hesitate to... deal with the situation.”

Steve froze, not remotely prepared for this scenario. He didn’t know what to do and was scared of making a misstep. He wasn’t afraid for himself, he didn’t care what happened to him, but he was terrified for El, and the possibility of losing his sister forever.

“Here’s what's going to happen.” Brenner continued. “Eleven is going to leave this place with me, right now. You, Mr. Harrington, yes I know all about you, are going to go back to your life and forget that any of this ever happened. If you so much as think about telling anyone what you’ve seen, we will know, and we will come for you.”

“I’m not going to just let you take her.” Steve protested, heart pounding.

“You don’t have a say in the matter.”

“If you take her then you’ll have to take me too!” Steve raised his voice a little too loudly, drawing the attention of the other diners.

“That’s not an option.” Brenner hissed. “I have no need for someone like you”

Steve lowered his voice to a whisper, knowing that angering the man further wasn’t going to help. “I’m not leaving her. I’ll die first. You’ll have to kill me right here and now in front of all these people. Do you really want to make that big of a scene?”

Steve could tell the man was considering it. “Please.“ He begged. “I'm sure you can find some use for me. I’ll do anything.”

Brenner sighed. “Very well. You will both follow me outside. Leave your car keys on the table, Steven, you won’t be needing them.”

The man slid out of the booth, threw more cash than necessary on the table, and walked out the door.

Steve scrambled out of his seat at the same time El did, and they collided in a desperate embrace. She was shaking, crying. Steve ran his fingers through her short curls.

“I'm sorry El, I'm so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

She looked up at him, blinking through tears. “It’s not your fault, they would have found me eventually, one way or another.”

“I’ll get us out of this somehow, I promise.”

She took a small step away from him and shook her head. “No, Steve. You have to let him take me. Only me. You have a life, parents, a family.”

He shook his head, taking her small hand in his. “You are my family El. I’m not leaving you. We’re in this together. You and me, always.”

Chapter 3

@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium

#steddie #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #ao3 #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #fanfic #ao3 link #life is a game #Canon is just a crazy game of D&D #alternating pov #Eddie Munson and Dustin Henderson are cousins #Steve Harrington and Eleven taking care of eachother

205 notes · View notes