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hellfireclubmember · 2 years

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Pretty Girl

a/n: Okay, I haven't written a legit fanfic in years so I'm so nervous publishing this. Any feedback would be appreciated. Also I was thinking of making a part 2, lmk if any one would like me to

warnings: none, just fluff, maybe annoying mutual pining. also probably a few mistakes. I didn't thoroughly proof read this

word count: 1.9k

summary: Dustin can't stop talking about the sub he got to fill in for Lucas, making Steve want to smash his head into a wall. That is, of course, until he sees you.

PART 2 HERE PART 3 HERE

disclaimer: reader is 18 and a senior in high school

Steve was losing his mind. He loved Dustin Henderson as if he were his little brother, but he might just strangle him at this very moment. First, he would not stop talking about Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson and now he won’t shut up about the substitute they had to bring into their little nerd club to play their little nerd game.

“… she’s just so cool! She had no idea how to play, Mike and I gave her a quick lesson before the session and then she goes and lands a crit hit on the most powerful dark wizard of all time!” Dustin was so impressed he couldn’t see that Steve wasn’t even really paying attention anymore, choosing to stack the new releases in alphabetical order instead. “She’s so pretty too” Dustin sighed “and nice.”

“Is Dustin still talking about that girl he forced to play Dungeons and Dragons?” In walked Robin from the back room. She sat down behind the counter. “Hasn’t stopped.” Were the first words Steve had said in the last twelve minutes.

“I did not force her!”

Dustin had found you sitting alone at the very back of the library whilst writing an essay for your English class. You were one of the maybe four students that were in there. Most of your peers excited for the basketball game that day after school. Dustin had realized he had seen you before and almost all the times he had seen you, you were alone. The boy figured asking you would be a win-win; this way you could maybe gain some more friends and he wouldn’t have to die. He rushed towards you, rambling about hellfire and getting his ass kicked by Eddie before he knew it you were agreeing to help. In all honesty, it wasn’t very easy for you to agree. Your stomach twisting at the thought of being in a room full of people you didn’t know but saying no to this boy somehow seemed worse; like killing a unicorn or something.

After agreeing, Mike and Dustin sat with you in the library and helped you create a character sheet, explaining the basics of DND in the short period of time before the session. You were never really expecting to have fun. In fact, you were fully expecting for your character to die immediately. When she didn’t you started to pay more attention. The excitement around you fueling your own. It was nice to be a part of something, surrounded by people that loved something so much made you feel warm and happy. You had never felt so at ease, comfortable doing something out of your comfort zone.

“Yeah? So, cornering (y/n) in the school library the way Steve does every female customer was the ethical thing to do?” Robin said.

“Dude! I don’t corner anyone.” Steve looked up indignantly from the VHS tapes at Robin.

Robin rolled her eyes and continued her scolding. “You know she was gonna say yes, she’s the nicest person I know. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say the word no.”

Steve was listening to them argue about whether Dustin dragged you to the nerd meeting or not when he heard the door to the video store open. His eyes landed on you walking through the door. The prettiest girl he’s ever seen walking into the fluorescent lit store. Lips parted as you tried catching your breath from the bike ride there. Steve felt like he forgot how to act like a human being, not even being able to execute his usual greeting or offer a charming smile. He watched you look around the store. Pretty eyes scanning until they landed on something behind Steve. You raised your hand to give a small wave. A wave he almost returned had Dustin not spoken up.

“(y/n). hey!” Dustin said as he walked over to the front of the register, right beside Steve. He had his eyes fixed on you, stare unwavering as you made your way toward Dustin and himself. Your eyes flicked over to Steve, acknowledging him with the cutest smile he had ever seen. Steve was never this awestruck by something as simple as a smile but he wished he could tattoo your smile to the inside of his eyelids so he could never forget it.

“Hi (y/n).” Robin was the next person to greet you.

“Hi Robin, I didn’t know you worked here.” He finally heard you speak and Steve never thought a voice could be so sweet.

“You know me, never one to brag.” A small giggle escaped your lips and if he thought your voice was sweet your laugh was like cotton candy; soft and pillowy. He couldn’t help but want to make you laugh for the rest of his life. Robin watched Steve look at you with the dumbest look she’s ever seen on his face, which is saying a lot. She genuinely had to bite back a laugh. “You know the hair, right?” Robin nodded her head towards Steve. That was his queue he had to get rid of the heart eyes and turn on the charm. You looked up at him which is when it finally clicked. He recognized you from his time at Hawkins High. Remembered you walking the halls alone with your head down most of the time. He never thought too much about you back then, which right now he regretted greatly, distracted with his douchebag friends and his relationship with Nancy to ever really notice most people.

“Yeah, I remember Steve.” You nodded your head. “Hello.” The hint of another smile on your lips. He so desperately had to hold himself back from hugging you. He wanted to be close to you, to hold you. Steve really didn’t understand what had gotten over him. Sure, he had liked girls before but being this whipped so immediately was definitely new to him.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He tried licking moisture back onto his lips, but his mouth was dry. He leaned back onto the counter and smiled. Trying his best to be as smooth as possible. He didn’t want to look at Robin or Dustin, mostly because that meant having to look away from you but also because he knew the look on their faces right now would be one of disgust.

The skin on your face started feeling incredibly warm. You had never spoken to Steve when he was in school, to be fair you hadn’t spoken to many people but speaking to King Steve seemed an impossible task. He was like art at the museums you liked to frequent, beautiful but untouchable.

Dustin removed his gaze from Steve whilst shaking his head and placed it back on you. “What are you doing here?” He asked. Right, you came here for something. What was that something? The brief interaction with Steve was enough to make you slightly lightheaded. You started nipping at the inside of cheek, rummaging through your head.

“Oh, I accidentally took your DND notebook yesterday. It said return if found and then your address was inside, which by the way I think is an awful idea. There are weird people out there, Dustin. You have to be more careful.” Steve and Dustin making eye contact, both thinking about the irony of telling Dustin to be safe. You reached for his notebook inside your messenger bag. “When I got to your house your mom said you might be here.” You took a few steps, offering him his journal. Now close enough to be able to smell Steve’s cologne, your gaze drifted for a second up to his face and he was looking down at you. The second your eyes met, he smiled, making you look away abruptly. He was making you way more nervous than usual. Your hands were getting clammy, and your breath was a little shaky. Steve Harrington was so beautiful. You always knew this but you had never had the honor of being this close to him.

“Dude, this is like the second time you’ve saved my life!” Dustin grabbed the notebook with a wide smile. You let out a small laugh. This kid’s smile was infectious, no matter the situation, if Dustin smiled you smiled. Those are the rules.

“Trying my best.” You closed your bag whilst taking a few steps back. Trying to make some distance between you and Steve, hoping to any God he couldn’t see your shaky hands. “Right. I’ll just get going then.” As the words left your mouth Steve started to panic. He can’t just let you leave. He had only said two words to you. His brain going on over drive trying to think of ways to get you to stay even a little longer. He looked outside at your bike and then at the dark clouds in the sky. It was definitely going to start raining soon.

“Wait!” He said this a little louder than anticipated. He cleared his throat as you turned your head to look at him. He smiled softly as he looks at your eyes again. He thinks he could look at your eyes all day. “You just got here; you should hang around with us. It’s for sure going to start raining soon. I can’t let a pretty girl get caught riding her bike in the rain.” Dustin snickered and Steve elbowed his shoulder immediately to get him to shut up. The taller boy watched as your eyes widened slightly at the use of the word pretty. You were so cute it was driving him crazy.

“Yeah, dingus is right. You should stay, besides tonight’s movie night. You can join us at Steve’s house. We’re gonna pig out on junk and watch horror movies. Steve is going to drive us all home after, he’s our trusty chauffeur.” Steve looked at Robin as she spoke, and he swears he could’ve planted a kiss on her forehead right then and there. Robin looked at him for a second with a small smirk on her face.

You fiddled with the strap of your bag as you thought about it. It would really suck to be caught in the rain, besides this could be fun right? You said yes to DND and that was fun. Doing things you wouldn’t normally do seemed to be working for you so why stop now? Of course, this had nothing to do with the way your heart raced when Steve looked at you or the way you really wanted to be in his presence longer or how pink and shiny his lips looked or how you wondered what his hand would feel like holding your hand.

“I would really like that.” You smiled at Robin and then turned to look at Steve. “If that’s okay with all of you.” This was directed more at Steve than it was to Dustin. There was a moment of silence as Steve stared at your pretty face, a smile adorning his features making him look like a lovesick puppy. It was Dustin’s turn to elbow the idiot to his left. That was enough to break the trance.

“Of course it’s okay with us. Right Dustin?” He glared at the boy that just assaulted him.

Dustin nodded his head. “It’d be an honor to have you at our movie night, (y/n).” Steve reached over to pat his younger friend on the shoulder.

“It’s set then.” He said, more excited for it to reach closing time than he has ever been.

#stranger things fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader

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hollandsangel · 1 year

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perfect | s. harrington

my first steve fic!! he is so dear to me 🫶

mei ( @ddejavvu ) helped me brainstorm this, so thank you lovie <3 (you should literally see our dms lol)

summary: steve thinks you’re perfect

warnings: nothing much!! talk of boobs and thighs and stuff but nothing sexual!! steve being dramatic

wc: 1.2k

this is my favourite gif if steve ever. amen. (gif creds to theedorksinlove)

“i swear to god, if one more person takes out sixteen candles, i’m going back to scoops,” robin sighs, a little exasperated as she plucks the film from the stack of tapes and slides it back into its rightful place on the shelf. you just roll your eyes at your friend's theatrics, legs kicking out from your spot on the countertop.

it’s dark outside now, considering it’s nearing ten pm. the moody lighting of the street lamps on the parking lot reminds you that family video will be closed for the night in another fifteen minutes, and you’ll be able to sidle into steve’s car and head home. steve’s on the phone now, trying to talk a customer through the return process and giving a gratuitous apology when they complain about not having enjoyed their movie. he’s been pacing behind the desk for ten minutes, getting himself tangled in the phone cord. you reach forward and grab his elbow with one hand and the cord in the other, dragging him about until he’s freed.

“you know, i actually think i could go for a little micheal schoelffling right about now,” you speak up, spinning around so your legs dangle over the front of the desk rather than inside. robin shoots you a glare and you just toss her a teasing grin back, hopping off the counter and turning to catch a glance at steve whose brow is creased in frustration.

“yes sir, we’d be happy to help you pick out a new movie tomorrow. yes. yes, we open at 9 am sir.” he sighs and rubs at his forehead. you catch his eye and give him a small, sympathetic pout. “have a good night, bye now.” the phone finally makes its way back to the receiver, and your boyfriend lets out the biggest groan, mixed with a sigh as it releases from his chest.

you lean over the countertop and smooth your thumb between his brows, correcting the wrinkle that had resided there, “tough customer?” you ask. steve drops his head between his shoulders, elbows braced on the sticky surface.

“tell robin she has to answer the phone from now on,” he hasn’t looked up yet.

you snicker and muss your hand through his hair, making him slump fully onto folded arms.

“i heard that,” robin says, standing from her crouched position and dusting off her thighs mid-step on her way back to the two of you.

your hand is still placed gingerly on the back of steve’s skull, fingers timidly working at his scalp, “you guys need any help closing?” you ask. steve makes a non-committal sound and robin swats his arm.

“tell your girlfriend she doesn’t work here,” she says and steve springs up, hair flopping into his eyes and landing on his head messily. he doesn’t even look at robin, you’re already in his line of view with half a smirk on the side of your mouth.

“baby, you don’t work here,” he says it all too quickly like there are no spaces between the words, “just sit pretty,” steve says, giving you a sickeningly sweet smile. you roll your eyes like it’s a full response.

before you get a chance to actually say anything, robin pokes at steve’s shoulder and he winces softly. “what’s this?” she asks. steve straightens out and looks where she’s pointing, a little red mark peeking out from the cuff of his polo. “did dustin punch you or something?” she tries to answer her own question, and before steve can stop her, she’s lifting the material. slowly, you register what is about to happen.

“ew, dude, why do you have bite marks on your shoulders– y/n was that you?” she looks mortified but she’s also grinning. nothing brings robin buckley more joy than absolutely badgering you and steve.

you look at steve with a “how are we supposed to deny this?” look to which he just stares back, pushing away and standing fully to walk away. but not before muttering, “you should see her thighs,” under his breath.

you choke on nothing.

robin though, barks out a laugh, poking steve at the top of his spine before he gets too far away. “don’t you worry stevie, i have,” she taunts, leaning back against the counter with a smug smirk.

steve is halfway to the horror section when he stops dead in his tracks. “you what?” he spins on his heel, “why have you seen my girlfriend’s thighs???”

you drum your palms on the counter and move away, “this is my cue to leave…” you say to no one in particular, ready to run for the door.

“hey! y/n/n–what are you– baby come back!” steve makes a small advancement towards you, hand waving in the air, even if the cash desk stands between the two of you.

you and robin make eye contact and snicker at the panic in his voice. she nods her chin towards him, “what? you jealous, stevie?”

“what?” steve starts, one hip jutted out and arms folded over his chest, “have you seen her boobs too?”

neither of you speaks, only share a guilty glance.

“oh you have got to be kidding me!! why? why have you seen my girlfriend's boobs?” he is actually exasperated. aghast.

“what?” you cry out defensively, dropping your eyes from his and shrugging your shoulders, “that’s just what girls do,” you explain, shooting robin a look that cries ‘help me!!’

“yeah,” robin stutters, eyes going wide and face blooming with amusement at steve’s distress, “sleepover stuff, no biggie,” she shrugs it off.

steve’s eyes are still huge and his mouth keeps forming around words but he can’t seem to speak them. you can’t help but swell affection for how dramatic he is.

“what! i just..” you sigh, shoulders falling from their tensed position near your jaw, “i wanted to make sure they were…you know…okay,” steve picks up on your sudden shyness, how your eyes cast downward and you seem slightly embarrassed.

“you…you–you–you wanted to make sure your tits were okay before i saw them??”

robin feels like she’s intruding and starts to slowly back away from the scene before her, barely catching your evasive shrug.

“no one’s ever seen them before…i dunno,” and then steve really softens, sees the insecurity seeping into your posture and your tone, just loud enough for him to hear.

“you wha–!” he cuts himself off, shaking his hysterics away with a sigh and dropping his crossed arms. he walks over to you, tapping your hip before gripping them both and lifting you onto the counter again, hands smoothing up your thighs that are no doubt marked up beneath the denim of your levi’s. “baby,” he starts lowly, ducking down so you’ll look in his eyes, “sweetheart, your tits are perfect,” he says it so earnestly and you can’t help but giggle, even if you can hear robin gag over steve’s shoulder. you laugh again when he rolls his eyes and leans up to kiss you. “you’re still coming to mine tonight right?”

“yeah,” you’re still smiling softly when you say it, just above a whisper.

“steven i swear to god, you help me close, then you guys can go..bone or whatever,” robin interjects, garbage bag in hand.

steve reaches beside you, sly smirk still on his face as he rummages through a drawer for the keys to the front door, “i’ll lock up rob,” he surges forward and presses a little peck to your mouth, drumming his fingers on your thighs before pulling away to lock the front doors.

robin is still standing in front of you, still gripping the black bag to take out the back door. “you guys are disgusting.”

tags! @ddejavvu @pastelbabygirl19

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington fanfic

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dumbslxtclub · 1 year

Note

what abt eddie x powered reader , he doesn’t know she has powers and they’re best friends, they are both too scared to admit their feelings and he goes on a date w another girl , so reader and eddie argue and she cries but when she does the lights r flickering and hes so confused but she has to confess eventually

delicate in every way (but one) | e.m

eddie munson x powered!reader

content warnings: fem!reader, adult language, adult themes, angst, hurt/comfort, some canon divergence/au, reader is 19, angst, FLUFFY fluff, no use of y/n, minor themes of anxiety (power related)

word count: 3.3K+

a/n: hi everyone, sorry for the hiatus!! life has been crazy lately, so I'm excited to share this request with you all xx

Shuffling through the chaos you call your locker, worry creeps in that, in your morning rush, you left the assigned Geometry homework in your bedroom. Casting your mind back, you recall having your jacket in one hand while you nudged the front door open, toast jammed in your mouth, and something in your other hand-

A ringed hand slams down on the locker beside you, causing you to jolt at the sound of metal on metal. The Cheshire-cat grin spread across your best friend’s face indicates his satisfaction with your reaction, the brunt of his weight finding the doors.

“T’s not good for you to think that hard. Causes wrinkles, y’know?”

“You’re gonna give me wrinkles, Munson.” Eddie smiles, always up for a banterous exchange between the two of you. He places an unlit cigarette between his plump lips, nestling the white filtered tip between rosy flesh. “Seriously?! Are you trying to get detention for the third time this week? I’m getting you to class if it kills me.”

Snatching it out of his mouth, you shove it into the worn leather adorning his chest. He dramatically falls back into the lockers once again, causing a raucous crash to echo down the depleting hallway. The remaining students turn their head in your direction, muttering indistinctly about the metalhead’s antics. After years of friendship with Eddie, your cheeks no longer burn at the judgemental attention, it’s a hazard of the trade. Besides, you have your ways of leveling the playing field with your best friend when needed.

Closing the locker, Eddie trails behind you like a lost puppy, as if he has no clue where his next class is. To be fair, you don’t doubt that that might be true, given his attendance record. Homework in hand, you trudge along making sure Eddie hasn’t wandered off like an irresponsible child in the grocery store.

“So, wanna hang out after Hellfire tonight? Got the new Iron Maiden tape the other day, but what kind of friend would I be if I listened to it without you?” The scuffling of worn Reebok’s on the linoleum flooring ceases behind you, an exhausted groan leaving your lungs. “Eddie, c’mon-”

“I, uh- I can’t hang out tonight.” Spinning on your heels, you shoot him a look of confusion.

“Okay? That’s cool, dude. But we’ve really gotta get to class so-”

Like trying to drag a stubborn mule, you grasp at Eddie’s wrist in a desperate attempt to move him. Shooting you a shit-eating grin, he plants his feet firmly, relishing in watching you put your back into trying to get him to budge.

“Don’t you wanna know what I’ve got planned?”

“Judging by how much you’re annoying me today, I’d say you’ve got a hot date with your right hand later.”

Eddie’s cheeks flush slightly at the insinuation, shaking his head sheepishly.

“No, well- you’ve got the first part right.”

Releasing his wrist from your tug-of-war, you stumble back slightly before you process this new information.

“Really?”

“Shit, don’t sound so surprised, sweetheart.” Eddie quips, words dripping with teasing sarcasm.

On one hand, you’re not surprised at all. Eddie is indisputably gorgeous. Large chocolate-brown eyes, a jawline that looks like it was carved by the gods themselves, and the kindest heart you’d ever encountered. In your eyes, he was the full package. Key word being your. It was no secret that Eddie’s reputation preceded him around town, he didn’t exactly have girls lined up around the block waiting to date him. But you knew how he could exercise his charm, when given the opportunity and perfect victim.

“With who?” Poker-face on, you try to sound as detached as possible.

“Maggie. You know, the new girl?”

Oh, you knew her alright. You watched as she unpacked her perfect little life from a U-Haul a few months back, moving into the white picket house across from yours. Though you hadn’t had any real interactions with her, you noticed how easily things came to her. Within her first week at Hawkins High, you witnessed her riding her bike home in a brand new cheer uniform, having been quickly indoctrinated. But on the weekends, she’d often help her mother tend to the garden in a band tee before jumping in her second-hand station wagon to make the most of a Saturday night with no curfew. With brown curls somehow perfectly imperfect, sultry eyes to rival Susanna Hoffs and a carefree attitude, it’s not hard to see how she could have any man swooning for her. Eddie, being no exception. Your mind begins racing over how they could have met, Eddie did seem especially cheerful on Monday after going to a concert that weekend. The one you were supposed to go to, if your mom hadn't found the vodka stuffed under your mattress and grounded you. Is that how they met? Fuck, maybe if you’d been there…

“Yeah, I think I know the one. What’re you guys gonna do?”

Eddie joins you side by side, thankful that you can now speed-walk to disperse some of the nervous energy brewing.

“Think we’re gonna go and see Friday the 13th at the drive-in cinema. They’re up to, like, the sixth one now so I imagine it’ll be a bit of a snooze-fest, but it’s all that’s on that late.”

Great. Eddie and a girl, alone in his van. At the drive-in cinema. Cuddled up watching a horror film. Picturing it is enough to make you want to vomit into your backpack.

“Sounds fun.” It does not, in fact, sound fun.

Thankfully, the final bell signifies your impending tardiness, causing the two of you to bolt to Geometry.

It’s hard to focus on what Mr Watts is talking about at the best of times, but your mind is fixated on Eddie. In your heart, you know he deserves to have a good time. He’s a gentleman, any girl would be lucky to date him. But the green-eyed monster had her ugly talons stuck deep into your back long before now. It’s getting harder and harder to suppress your growing feelings for your best friend, stealing glances at him any chance you get. But it’s not worth the risk, not with all you have to lose. He’s your rock, the only person on this planet you can talk to about anything. And you’re not about to jeopardize your friendship over some silly crush. And yet, you also can’t help but feel an unfair notion that Eddie is somehow to blame for this. It could be so easy to misinterpret his naturally flirty nature for romantic intentions. How he opens every door for you, makes you mix-tapes of your favorite bands, picks you up for late-night drives to get the best view of the city. Every action is another addition to a precarious house of cards, doomed to collapse. Glancing over at Eddie, he is absent-mindedly tapping his pencil against the wooden desk. On any other day, it wouldn’t bother you. But today, it’s enough to drive you mad. Honing in all of your attention on the pencil, your gaze remains fixated on the object. All you can hear is the tap, tap, tap flooding your ears, his stupid rings reflecting light across the room. You furrow your brows, take a deep breath, and-

The pencil launches out of Eddie’s hand, clattering to the ground beneath him, drawing the attention of half the class.

“Mr Munson, could you please for once pay attention?” Mr Watts, clearly unimpressed by Eddie’s interruption, earns a few sniggers from students around him.

“Shi- sorry, Sir.” Eddie, completely baffled by what just happened, leans down to pick up the pencil. A smile creeps across your lips, and Eddie follows the pencil beneath your desk. Retrieving it, a worried look washes across his face as he glances up at you.

“Woah, you okay?” His tone is hushed, as not to draw any more attention to himself. You’re now acutely aware of the small stream of blood trickling from your nostril, wetting your upper lip in a metallic maroon. Quickly swiping it away, you pretend to busy yourself in your notebook.

“Yeah. ‘M fine.”

Call me when you get home safely.

The golden rule, never to be broken. Words uttered like gospel every time you and Eddie part ways at the end of a long night, a foundation in your friendship. After Hellfire wrapped up, you elected to drive home separately as Eddie wanted to head straight home to freshen up for his date. With a firm embrace, you muttered the words to him as you had countless times before, him nodding in acknowledgement against the crook of your shoulder.

12:46am.

Eddie would have been due home an hour ago, accounting for time he and Maggie might have spent chatting away in the car after a disappointing slash-fest. Yet the corded phone beside your bed remains neglected, heavy-lidded eyes glancing over at it sporadically as you try to busy yourself in a book.

What is taking him so long? He never forgets to call unless-

Unless he’s still with her. Images flash through your mind's eye, Eddie driving Maggie around town blasting the music you’d shown him. Pulling up to one of your usual hang-out spots, smoke filling the back of the van as the two swap spit on the end of a blunt. Ringed hands slipping under the soft cotton of her shirt, grasping at soft skin as the pair-

Nope, not going there. With a huff, you throw your book haphazardly to the side and flick off the bedside table, praying sleep will come soon.

You allow the phone to ring off the hook all of Saturday. You have no interest in talking to Eddie right now, your social battery drained at the mere thought of feigning interest over how his date went. And so, you keep yourself occupied, willingly cleaning your room just to have something to fill the dead space of time. Rearranging the trinkets on your windowsill, you spot a figure crossing the adjacent lawn. Maggie unlocks her bike from the patio railing, placing a bag in the wicker basket attached to the front. You try to pry your gaze from her, but something catches your eye. A band tee, one you haven’t seen her in before, hangs loosely on her frame, faded and gray from years of love. It’s familiar. Similar to the one that you bought for Eddie last year, thrifting it as a birthday present after scraping pennies together. Probably a coincidence, you tell yourself, bile building in your throat, failing to convince yourself.

The phone rings a handful of times throughout the day, a fragment of the white noise reverberating through your head. Drowning out the voices, the self doubt, only to fuel the fire just as imminently. With your parents out of town for the weekend, the house feels desolate. An echoing chamber of solitude, combated by the unwanted images flooding your brain. You should feel happy for Eddie. He deserves love. But god, why does it have to be her love?

Against all odds, the barrage of thoughts ceases long enough for you to doze off on the couch, granting you a fleeting moment of peace. A moment cut short by a sharp and firm knock at the door. Maybe if you ignore it, they will go away, leaving you to your nest of despair. But it doesn’t. The knocks grow louder, more intense, causing you to groan as you pry yourself off the couch. Curtains ajar, you see the dusky sky outside casting shadows across the faintly lit street. Flicking on the floor lamp as you pass into the entryway, the knocking incessantly continues.

“Alright, I’m coming!” Post-nap grumpiness is in full flight as you swing open the front door. Eddie stands before you, leather jacket hanging off his slim frame, wallet-chain catching the last light of the day. But instead of his usual goofy smile plastered on his face, he looks entirely unimpressed.

“Oh, she lives!” His words are dripping with sarcasm, not waiting for you to invite him in.

“What are you doing here?” You quip back, shutting the door behind you.

“Y’know, just making sure you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere. Forgive me.” Eddie paces straight for the living room, charged up with too much energy.

“Okay, well, as you can see-” You gesture to yourself with a flourish, “-I’m not. So, you didn’t need to waste gas driving out here.”

“Since when do you not pick up the phone? I’ve been trying to call all day!” Eddie’s typical jovial tone is nowhere to be found, instead having been replaced by dourness.

“God, sorry. Didn’t realize you’d only pick up the phone when it suited you.”

Eddie’s eyes squint slightly, incredulous as he absorbs your comment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” God, men are thick.

“You never called to let me know that you got home safely. I sat up half the night waiting for you to ring, and nothing! But I’m sure you lost track of time with Maggie-”

Eddie’s eyes narrow, the logical side of his brain working overtime to figure out why you’re being so short with him. But as soon as you drop Maggie’s name, the puzzle pieces click into place.

“Is that what this is about?”

“Is what about?”

“This!” Eddie gestures with his hand in your direction. “This attitude you’ve had going on for days.”

“Oh my god. You’ve woken me up, stormed into my house and accused me of having an attitude. So forgive me if my hospitality is lacking, Eddie!”

“Does it have something to do with Maggie?” His question is point-blank, and it catches you off guard.

“No!” You blurt out a little too quickly, doing little to convince him.

“Do you not like her or something?”

“Why do you care if I like her or not? You like her, and that’s all that matters. So can we just drop this?”

Blood begins boiling beneath the surface, a harbinger of emotions close to spiraling out of control. You need a second of solitude, to bring everything back to baseline. It’s happened with your family, even with bullies at school, but never been in the presence of Eddie for. It scares you, how your powers can lash out before you do, and you don’t want Eddie to be caught in the crossfire.

“We need to talk about this-”

“No, we don’t!”

“I just don’t get why you’re acting like this-”

“Eddie, you need to leave.”

Heart pounding in your chest, breath growing a little too fast for your liking. Pulse racing against the delicate skin of your neck, tears brimming close to the precipice. A quick glance over to the one illuminated lamp in the corner confirms your fears, the bulb flashing indiscriminately behind Eddie’s shoulder. Thankfully, his stern gaze remains fixed on you.

“No! I’m not going anywhere until-”

“Eddie, please-” An unsteady breath betrays you, voice cracking on your last word while a tear escapes your lash line. White noise clouds your brain, a haze forming around logic and control. Even with your eyes pinched shut, the glow of the frantically flickering lamp remains visible behind your lids. Eddie’s voice grows muffled, a scrambling of sound waves assaulting your eardrums and causing you to buckle over. Instinctively, your palms clamp down over your ears as you do your best to count to five. Feel the soft carpet beneath your socked feet. Smell the fresh flowers your mother placed in a vase next in the entranceway. Taste the metallic blood dripping from your nose, finding its way into your parted lips. Anything to bring you back to reality. And it’s not working.

Not until two firm hands grasp your shoulders, and you distantly hear Eddie’s voice calling out to you.

“-Hey! Please, look at me…”

A deep, diaphragmatic breath is required as courage to pry your damp eyes open, and take in the image before you. Eddie is crouched down, level with you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen. He looks terrified.

“Oh my god-” He quickly throws his arms around you, tucking you in tight to his chest. His familiar musky scent is comforting, grounding you in a sense of safety.

“‘M sorry, Eddie.” Words barely louder than a squeak, Eddie tightens his grip around you and pulls you in closer.

“Fuck, I thought-” His chest rises unsteadily, voice quivering. “- that was, it was just like Chrissy.”

A sharp pang of guilt hits you deep in your gut. The lights. The zoning out. He’s seen it before, a year ago with Chrissy, and you never considered how triggering it might be for him to witness the effects of your powers out of context.

“I’m okay.” It takes everything for you to pull away from him, but you need to offer him the same comfort he’s granted you. “I’m sorry, I should have told you.”

“Told me?”

You can’t help but chuckle at how weird it is to say out loud.

“You know how El has powers? Well, I kind of do too.” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing beneath his mess of bangs. “Not like, to the same extent. But sometimes, if I get overwhelmed or experience some sort of strong emotion, shit like that happens.”

Eddie is speechless. Not that you blame him, it’s not every day you learn of your best friend’s superpowers. His eyes dart around your face, as if searching for any indication that this is a joke. But as your expression remains serious, his whole demeanor softens.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Wasn’t safe.” You reply, shaking your head. “I mean, look at El. I just- I didn’t want to put you at risk.”

“No, no. I get it.” Eddie’s hand absent-mindedly brushes some of your hair out of your face. “You said it happens when you feel something strong. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed you-”

“No! It wasn’t that, I’ve felt it coming for a while now.” Chuckling sheepishly, you quickly wipe away any remaining tears from your flushed cheeks.

“What, were you like, jealous or something?” Eddie laughs, his signature grin creeping across his face. At his question, you feel your breath catch again, smile faltering minutely. Eddie doesn’t miss this, and he leans in a little closer. “Oh my god, you were, weren’t you?”

“You don’t have to rub it in, asshole.” You give him a small shove to the chest, an embarrassed laugh catching in your throat. His hand catches yours, trapping it in place between his palm and the cotton shirt. Your eyes focus on the shirt. Grey, worn from years of love. The one you’d thrifted for him as a birthday present last year. And your heart swells.

“So, let me get this straight.” Dimples settle deep into his smile lines as his gaze bores into you. “My best friend has powers, and a crush on me?”

Your free hand finds its way to your face, running down the length with exasperation.

“Yep, pretty much. And you can add jealous bitch to that list too.”

“Well, as it turns out, Maggie is a total dud. Ran off half way through the film because she spotted some of her cheer friends in the parking lot.”

“She didn’t!”

“Oh, but she did. Although, it wasn’t all bad, meant I could smoke the rest of my stash to myself. Aaand then I passed out in the back, woke up the next morning and came straight home.” “Sounds like a shit drive-in date.” Eddie chuckles, shaking his head.

“Sure was. Maybe you and I could right some wrongs next Saturday? My treat, think of it as my apology for not calling.”

You can’t contain the grin threatening to spread across your face.

“It’s a date.”

#eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson request #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #powered!reader #dumbslxtclub

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wroteclassicaly · 1 year

Note

Here’s some Steve for you Midwest bestie 🥰 oh no hopefully this doesn’t make you want to write anymore smutty blurbs :( hehehe

You tryna turn me into an even bigger slut for this man and his Midwest Monster? I am here for it! Listen, a bitch got a little carried away, btw… this turned into a whole ass fic with a few surprises… ;) I listened to Kenny G’s Christmas album whilst writing parts of this, because we fuck with that dude in this house!

Sorry this took so long! It’s unedited and I hope it’s okay? It kind of developed a mind of its own… 😂

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight masturbation, breeding kink, & tooth rotting fluff.

Steve Harrington never paid much attention to you… It was always your bestfriend’s new frosted manicure, or if your other friend got her hair done. He noticed. He paid compliments.

But if you tried a new lipstick outside of your comfort zone he wouldn’t even give you anything but a company line and a mere glance, checking out your movies with a precise ease, saving that witty charm for your friend. If you ever went into the Family Video it had always been with friends, never really a reason to go solo. ‘Chicken shit. You don’t get his attention because you can’t handle it. One of the girls is always with you, babes.’ Your bestie’s voice rang in through your ears, tormenting you since she’d finally said it days ago.

Your visits with your friends had shortened in the amount of days, your trying to seek out Steve’s attention dwindling. Why bother if he doesn’t care, and he doesn’t… At least, that’s what you convinced yourself—all the way through your argument of going to get the videos at the store tonight instead of your parents. They were preparing for a party, you weren’t busy. It was a no brainer, according to your dad and logic. But you didn’t want to see him tonight.

You lost the battle, however, and forged your way into praying he was somewhere nursing a hot toddy instead of rewinding new releases tonight. As you pull up to candy colored, light draped strip Mall—you already know you’re screwed.

There is no such luck. You can see him behind the counter through the labeling on the glass door. God, he looks good. You sigh and push the door open, cringing as the bell dings. He spares a look as any employee would. You don’t give him the same courtesy, instead heading directly to the specially decorated rack of holiday films and picking out the tapes.

Your heartbeat is throbbing painfully beneath the silk of your evening dress, making you adjust your soft overcoat and inhale a few deep breaths to coax you to the front counter. You slide your tapes onto the green surface and flash him a friendly smile, wishing he didn’t speak to you and steal your attempts at making this quick and painless. You want to crawl in the deepest pits of hell for the sins you imagine committing on the spot. He’s wearing a pair of light wash Levi’s, his signature belt snapped close to hold the fabric nice and tight. He’s wearing a fuzzy cream colored sweater that’s rolled above his his elbows, showcasing his watch, his hair in a slight disarray from his daily shift, and… your jaw about drops when you notice something new.

Peeking out from the sweater’s collar is a thin gold chain around his neck. Your tongue clicks to the roof of your mouth and you inhale sharply—another mistake. His cologne enriches your senses and smacks you in the face. And you wonder if the fucker has some he sprays on during his breaks, keeping it in his car, because how the fuck is it so present at this time of night? You can’t stop yourself when you shift, the silk sliding between your legs, your hosiery adding extra friction.

“You and the girls doing some downtime tonight?”

You’ve forgotten his voice has an even harsher effect on your body when he looks like he needs to be fucked thoroughly. Preferably… by you.

“Huh?” He’s grinning at you, as if there’s something he’s aware of that you’re not and never have been.

He starts to scan the tapes with one hand, the other drumming on the remaining few. What you wouldn’t give to have those fingers—

“I mean, you don’t normally go for this kind of cheesy stuff, right?”

“Oh. I mean, no, it’s for the party tonight. Besides, what’s wrong with the classics?” You shock yourself with your bold little defense.

It’s no big deal. He’s almost done scanning, just go when he finishes.

“Take no offense, Y/N, I just meant that it sounds like a tame party for you and your friends. Am I wrong about that?”

You can’t help but to laugh. “It’s a family party. You know, families and pleasantries exchanged, old dudes making jokes, enough food to send everyone home with leftovers and make my mom bitch about all the clean up left to do, like she doesn’t keep hosting these every single year.”

“Ah, the festively annual wine and dine shindig of adulthood. My folks used to have many.”

You take note of the used to, remembering how Steve’s parents haven’t been around to even hang a set of lights or send out stamped holiday cards. He’s also working on a night when everyone else you know that is employed here — isn’t. A protectiveness bubbles inside of your chest, piling metaphorical ice and snow a top your former irritation with him. It’s not his fault if he isn’t into you like that, even if it really stings. You’re pursing your lips, pausing, taking the five dollar bill your mom had given you from your handbag and sliding it across the desk where his fingers meet too quickly and brush over yours.

Neither of you move, which has you feeling the goosebumps prickling your flesh, your coat suddenly too hot. Steve looks at you, and for the first time you feel like he’s caring enough to see. His fingers curl around yours, his milky white teeth bared in the cutest little grin. He licks his lips and the action is taken into your labored breathing, his hand flipping yours to draw small shapes into your palm, keeping you here in a comfortable silence…? You both hear it loudly over the intercom, a well known Christmas tune played with a smooth blend of saxophone.

You engage in simultaneous laughter, overwhelmed by the atmosphere provided for the situation. It breaks the hold he momentarily has, your hand slipping from his. That warmth settles in your belly, your voice quieter. You tuck your movies underneath your arm, meeting his puppy eyes gaze. Those fucking freckles and moles are going to undo you.

“The party starts in an hour… if you wanna swing by? Stay a while?”

Steve can’t resist, not wanting you to go, the ache in his chest too much for him to ignore. You’re so oblivious it’s cute, albeit, annoying. “You asking me to be your date? Maybe save you from a few old geezers?”

You ignore the way your heart accelerates at that tease. “No, that’s not it. You know what, you probably have plans anyways. Forget it.” You remember why you didn’t want to be here in the first place. It wasn’t him flirting, he was just talking to you, even if this is the most talking you’ve ever done. You’re backtracking towards the door and nearly on your way out when a firm hand grips you around the elbow and tugs.

You’re flush against Steve’s chest, the fabric of his sweater dragging across your exposed collarbones. A few tufts of chocolate hair fall around his forehead. “Why are you so nervous around me, huh?”

It angers you and leaves you speechless for a moment. You don’t deny it, shrugging a shoulder to try and maneuver out of the warmth his hold possesses. He shakes his beautiful head. “Uh-uh. Why?”

You let your temper lead for you. “You don’t notice me enough to know if I’m nervous around you or not, Steve.”

He scoffs, as if an incredulous impossibility, fingers rubbing along your elbow through the heavy coat. Damn, it’s really hot in here. Am I sweating?

“I noticed enough to see that new lipstick you got last time. Or when you came in with that deep red top. It’s from Leighanne’s, that new boutique downtown, right? I saw it when I was Christmas shopping for Robin.”

Your eyes widen slightly, struck by the embarrassment of your total oblivion. Steve, the idiot, is grinning. “So you hiding behind your friends every time you come in here isn’t a coincidence. Knew it.” He lips purse in an amused pop.

You swallow on a dry breath. “Yeah, well you never flirt with me, Harrington, so what am I supposed to do?”

“That’s because there’s always a crowd around you, Y/N.”

“You flirt with them,” you argue. “It’s not different, you just don’t want to.”

“Hmm…” He trails off, stepping back a little and letting you go. You resist the urge to bring his hand back, maybe… press it elsewhere. You can feel your heart racing in your lungs, this whole thing some kind of fever dream. Too fast paced for you.

“What’s.. what is that supposed to mean?” You shift the movies beneath your other arm.

“It means—“ Steve stops himself as you start to push on the door and the bell jingles, drawing his attention to something you’ve apparently missed overhead. He’s full on Cheshire grinning now. —“oh, fuck it, honey. M’ gonna show you what it means.”

You’re not prepared for those big paws to press into your cheeks, his thumb pad swiping down to smear your lipstick into a smudge, and he’s dipping in low enough that you can taste the chocolate candy he’s been eating and become overpowered by—not just his cologne—but his laundry detergent and aftershave. The music is a quickly evaporating soundtrack, an ache startling you from between your legs. Are you shaking? You’re sure that you are. Steve doesn’t give you his mouth (Which, my god, that five o’clock shadow has already started. His lips, fucking almighty they’re plush, pretty. And those map of little freckles on his cheek and… is that one on his top lip too?)

“You want me to? It’s okay?” His voice is already wrapped in a red bow, honey simmering beneath, drenching everything.

Including my underwear. Fuck me.

You nod, the action causing your noses to brush, making Steve press the barest, featherlight touch of his mouth to yours, one that has your knees filling with jelly and led weights. Are you even standing upright? He slots his lips in to fit over your own, nose’s tip pressing into your cheek, his fingers rubbing circles into your jaw, one finger sliding down to swipe across your chin. It’s a small gesture, one that helps bring the kiss to a quiet part, a light smack heard in your shared airspace. Is it the atmosphere, the upcoming holiday? You don’t know, you are only aware of how hard you’re panting, that sizzling lust dusting your bones to ash.

Steve’s pupils have blown, scattering flecks of cinnamon around the midnight black expanse. He’s looking up and pushing on your chin before you can speak to get you to look too. Hung above the door is a very familiar decoration. Mistletoe.

“Keith put it up and made sure to ‘help’ every female customer on their way out, y’know, as any good manager does.”

It makes you laugh and press your forehead into Steve’s, your spare hand finally remembering itself and coming up to pet over the softness of his sweater. “So I’ve been the most oblivious person alive? Because this all feels like a dream.”

“You’re telling me. I haven’t been so worked up to kiss a girl in years.” His thumb pokes your nose, his other hand sliding down and around your waist, holding steadily.

“I’m not like all those other girls though, Steve. Even my friends are different.” The doubt seeps in a little.

“Different is good. It’s great, actually. Kind of like you.” His lips capture yours once more, moving into slippery glide to the corner of your mouth. You’re hot lava personified, elated.

You try not moan, but it’s a deep set sound that comes out rather pitifully. He hears it immediately, a rasp squeezing around his tone. “Did you like that? I could do it again for you.”

For you.

He’s watching you with a heated stare, one that is pattering its way from your head to your toes and back again. You nod, before you use your one hand to fist that collar between your fingers. “I don’t want you to stop. And if we keep—“ You cut yourself off, because—fuck—he didn’t ask that.

The easiest smirk indents itself in the corner of his mouth. His voice sounds as if he’s been asleep and he’s awakened, ready to pounce, but all light and airy. “If we keep what? Let’s not get shy on me again, baby.”

“Baby?” You definitely said that out loud.

He reaches for the videos in the cove of your tucked arm, stepping his way into a backwards stride, pulling you along. He doesn’t even turn around and he’s tossing the tapes onto the counter, his hands working beneath your coat to hold onto you over the silk, fingers pressing into your waist, splayed down across your hips. He finds your nose to give it a nuzzle. “Do you wanna be baby, honey?”

With your own surging confidence, you wrap an arm around his neck and scratch at the nape, fingers pushing through those kept locks. “Why don’t I show you?”

~*~

Steve Harrington was ever the gentleman, persisting that you didn’t have to do anything beyond kissing, but you hadn’t been able to satiate your trembling and he’d ended up agreeing with you, or rather your lips when you’d pulled down his collar and nosed at the gold chain to kiss every freckle and mole within your immediate vision. It was an uncoordinated stumble into the closet of the break room, your back against the door, Steve pulling your coat off your body with a helpful shrug from you, his fingertips finding the straps in a filter, easing them down, the fabric pressing a shiver into your shoulder blades. You couldn’t stop the pleading babbles, trying to rip his employee vest off so he could tuck his arms back and escape the sweater. He’d been harboring a white tank top beneath, one that was tucked into his jeans, and that did in your manners. Underneath the glow of the decorative lights that someone hung in here with you, you can see his expression darken, surprised.

You’re already starting on his belt and his head is hung low, lips wet and stained with your enriching shading choice. He’s a damned goner when you get his belt worked open and the buckle clatters apart, your hands coaxing through his hair, lost in pent up lust, begging him aloud. Finally. “Tell me you want me? Tell me I can have you, Steve.”

His gaze sinks into yours, like melted caramel waiting to be devoured. His chest heaves beneath the white tank, chest hair on display, his chain glowing in closet lighting. He knees you into a sideways position, denim to silk, pushing until you help yourself slide with his assistance, ass resting on a piled stack of old seat cushions that are mounted a top a spare chair. It’s an odd display, a sloppy setup, but you’ll lay on the dirty floor to have Steve Harrington. His mouth nudges your chin in a pathing way of glittering kisses. “You’ve always had me.”

Your breath locks in your lungs, you hold it as he claims you in another bruising kiss, your own hand sliding in between your thighs, squeezing around your wrist for some friction. You can’t help it, you don’t mean to do it, but your modesty is gone when he’s got that dark look, a dry swallow on those pouty lips. “Jesus, how turned on are you right now that you’re gonna touch yourself when m’ just kissing you?”

“I can’t fucking help it.” You whimper, one hand sliding around his neck, the other attempting to leave its hold on your cunt. Steve’s wrist watch reflects the dull bulb above as it swipes through your sights and prevents you.

“Who said I wanted you to?” And the straps that are still on your shoulders, Steve slots his thumbs in between the silk and your skin, tugging them down enough that the dress folds and exposes the tops of your breasts in the strapless lace bra. He fits himself at a dedicated placing, at your side, his mouth finding your neck, underneath your chin, the lobe and shell, teeth nipping, where you know you’ll feel that later, your body already rocking into your hand right now.

Your head falls into a cabinet above, but Steve reaches up, fingers skimming along the side of your neck, to place his hand behind your head to ease the impact. It’s all hypersensitive to you. His chain sways forward as he kisses your jugular, even permitting his tongue to glide over the taste of your perfume, all the while his free hand dips onto the side of your evening gown and rubs, stimulates, letting you remember he’s here and that he wants something. You meet him in a heated stare, your hips rocking into your hand, Steve jutting out a knee to bump your wrist right back, assisting, encouraging. “Please, honey. Touch yourself for me, let me see what I’ve done to you, yeah?”

His hands meet your knees in the instance you nod, catching his thumb in your mouth on their way down. He kneels, splayed fingers pushing and shifting with you, and moments later you’re raising your hips at his gentle praises, boots going too, followed by your stockings and panties coming down, and all of it piles over your discarded coat. Both sharing uneven, chopping breathing, Steve reassures you, even as your dress hikes around your waist and your legs spread open for him to see, your fingers hovering, slick pooled in the creases of your thighs, cunt glistening. He resembles someone being sucker punched in the gut, grateful his jeans are undone to give his cock room to breathe, because fuck. You can’t believe he’s reacting this strongly to you, to your body.

You stifle a cry out, reaching for him as he comes, easily getting his tank top off. There isn’t a drop of airspace not shared, nor invaded when he’s close, informing you of a winded wish. “Spread yourself open, let’s how worked up you are, sweetheart.”

Hesitation finds no home here—instead—your fingers make a V and part your sticky folds wide enough that Steve immediately latches onto your swollen clit, and the squelch your body makes from the simple action alone, destroys his last bit of languid composure. “How about you sit back and let me take care of you?”

It’s a quest for permission he’s had since you first saw him. Your slick covered fingers leave to take your dress down on your waist, easing the bra cups to expose your breasts to him, taking his hands, your shine transferring over his knuckles as you let his palms touch you, tease your already hardened nipples. He plays with you for a mere few seconds, but it’s agonizing torture, and he frees you—momentarily—that newly mess on his head tickling your chin as he dips to lick and suck over your areola, lips perfectly pulling your nipple, only to release it again and give a soft blowing breath, then to focusing on the other, all the while his Midwest monster (because, wow. you knew it was big, but really?), is a prominent delicacy that you won’t ignore any longer. It takes a few tries to get him to hear your voice, those hazel irises obliterated. He seems to understand and realize something at the same instance, your brow pinching into a frown.

Is he regretting this? You start to close your legs, but Steve shakes his head, barely coherent. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just remembered I’m literally at work.”

You’re not seeing the point? Didn’t he bring you in here? He sighs, lowering his head into your neck and back up again, hands leaving your breasts to rest on the meat of your spread thighs. “I don’t exactly bring rubbers with me on the job, honey. I wasn’t thinking with the right head when I brought you in here. Unless you’re on the pill?”

You snort outright, the sound a booming bam in the volume of the small room. “So you don’t do this all the time then?”

He’s incredulous, chuckling once, then this weird glow covers his freckly features, almost like the Milky Way map is lighting up right in front of your eyes, but it’s Steve and the vast variety of birth marks that decorate his flesh instead. A vulnerability frames him, one that makes you reach to rest your fingers along the tops of his hands, rolling over the knuckles. That half grin he does when he answers you, you’d fall in love with Steve Harrington if you weren’t already ass over elbows. “You’re the first one here with me. The only one I’ve ever even thought about, needing—“ He’s cute when he’s quick to fumble and backtrack. “—I’m not saying you’re not worth taking home and being treated right, instead of a closet, I’m just saying I couldn’t wait. Not that—fuck—I’m such a dick—“

You shut him up abruptly, tongue licking into his mouth for a prodding entry, not your most graceful kiss, but it gets him to chill out, read the Morse code loud and clear. And you’re positively swimming in the sunlight that is Steve. You answer plain as day, already finding the dip in his hips, fingernails scratching along the skin, those marks seared into him, ones you’ll have to photograph and taste another time. He presses his thumb behind your ear, causing a shiver to erupt in pops, your body arching, crying out for him uninhibited.

“Honey,” he warns, unsteady, on the precipice of already giving in. “it’s risky.”

“Hmm,” you fiddle with the chain on his very naked chest, now that it’s clearly within your eye-line, before continuing. “Wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?”

The feral rumble that wraps around him, diaphragm—deep, it sends you into a tailspin. It’s Steve who arches into your touch, needy and clinging inhumanely tighter. You raise an eagerly surprised brow. “What? You like that idea, huh, Steve? Creating a little baby with me? Like a Christmas surprise.”

He shakes his head, despite your temptress tease, but it’s the opposite meaning, his palms forcing your hips deeper into the cushions. Your cunt grows wetter, thighs damn near swaying back and forth for something, anything to satiate the ache. He kisses you gently, lips tickling, damp, his knuckles raising to brush around the apple of your cheek. You speak first. “I’m not—Steve, m’ not on the pill or anything, so if you don’t want to, it’s alright, I’ll understand.”

“As long as I get to have you, I don’t care what happens.” And it’s all moving slow motion, yet, so quick from there.

Steve’s jeans and boxers end up bunched around his knees, your legs held in their posing, his fingers sinking into you slowly with a shared, open mouthed whine at the first touch. You’ve never been this fucking wet before, and Steve is lapping it up, quite literally. He samples your arousal with a pop of those defined digits, alternating between working his thumb into a stretch to press circles into your cream soaked clit. That swoop takes hold of your insides, twisting your gut and you find Steve’s hand, thighs closing around his wrist, taking his kiss in stride, despite your jagged whimpers.

“Baby, you were about to cum, why’d you stop me?”

“Wanna try with you inside of me. Is that okay?” Steve stares at you as if you’re fine china and he’s discovering buried treasure all at the same instance.

“Of course it’s alright, honey. You think you can take me without anything?”

“Oh, I think you’ve seen that there’s plenty for you to work with, Huge Harrington.” Your body heats to an unhealthy temperature, motioning to his hand. He might not be the King Steve everyone knew, but he still knows what he does have.

He feeds you his fingers then, making you taste yourself, his cock slapping against his happy trail, smearing it. You watch in fascination, all but drooling, saliva filling the corners of your mouth. His lifts your hand in his, taking it to his shaft and pulls it away from his stomach, leaving beads of pre-come behind. His diction is clear. “Get me wet enough to fuck you.”

You don’t have to struggle to hear him, obviously, the harsh swallow that has you practically choking on spit is enough to do it, and the hot, heavy feel of his thick length in your grasp. Steve’s got another signature smirk sliding its way into his mouth’s crevices, his lips fitting over your own when you take initiative and heed his request. “Good girl.”

He licks at your mouth, tongue swiping across his own lips in the process, both your gazes working their way to watch you separate your swollen folds and drench your hand, bringing it to Steve’s awaiting erection. He sucks in sharply, abdomen tensing as you work to coat his cock in your sticky essence, getting too caught up in how pretty he is like this—literally in your hand, coming apart, throbbing, heavy. He’s nodding, face burying itself in your neck, his chain tickling you collar bones. You work his tank up and adjust to have him helping you take it off, his jeans all that remain, but you two don’t bother with those. When Steve inhales as his tip catches on your clit, he stops you, those hairy thighs tensing, bumping yours further apart.

There’s that moment, exchanged breaths hung off invisible hooks, slapping back like an elastic band, and the pause before Steve is inside of you. A shift in in what once was, your earth’s axis tilting, a new normal unrolled. Steve sees you, his thumb pushing a lock of hair back behind your ear as he kisses your cheek with a delicate fondness. He takes your hand in his and presses it beside your hip, both of you holding onto the cushioning for leverage, his other finding his now creamy cock. He’s barely able to get the question out, voice gone to the winds of desire.

“You ready, sweetheart? You’re sure, right?”

You lift your other hand to his neck’s nape, nose nudging his, breathing uneven as you scoot a little more to the edge of the arrangement for him. “Never been more sure of anything, Steve.”

You can’t win the battle to see how he enters you, too focused on his busted pupils, his flaring nostrils, that look of elated concentration. He gives himself another drag down the seam of you, before his dick parts your labia and the head catches just inside your entrance. Your jaw drops at the initial push, an overwhelming ache resting inside of your tummy, washing over every muscle nearby, your entire body on fire with the burn. Your hand squeezes his, nails biting into his palm, the hiss leaving through clenched teeth. “Oh, fuck.”

Steve stops himself right away, his guiding hand paused around himself. His voice is wet with want, and you can tell he’s holding back. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He strums your chorded nerves, kissing your mouth and letting go of your hand to swipe his thumb across the tear that’s gathered at your waterline. “Wait, this isn’t your first time, is it?” He starts to panic some, feeling worse for bringing you in a storage locker. But you’re shaking your head.

“No, I’m not a virgin. You’re just… I’ve not had anyone so t-thick. S’ been a while too.” Steve doesn’t let you close your eyes, a soft sigh settles.

“I’ll go slow, okay? And you’ll tell me if anything hurts, so I can take care of it.” It was more a demand than a question, and you naturally agree.

Steve grits his teeth on this next push of his hips, the first few inches going in with ease. You’re cunt is so slick that this won’t take long for him, and he’s worried about you adjusting to his size, despite the way it paddles his ego a little. His cupped hand reaches your body and he lets go of his cock, wet fingers tilting your chin down to see, then he brings your mouth to his, caging you in completely, chest hair dragging across your breasts. He moves, you give, and he’s bottoming out in your tight heat, his head fucking spinning and his face contorting into a painful expression that commits an affair with bliss. You can’t think of anything else but Steve and the musk he’s surrounding you with, body a switchboard of emotions and sensations.

He’s speaking to you, voice muffled and under water. You break the surface when his cock twitches inside you, your tongue slicking across your bottom lip. His balls are nestled against the globes of your ass and your forgot that you’re holding your breath, releasing it in a tremble in time for Steve to get through. “Shit, honey? Tell me I didn’t hurt you?”

You never felt this before. Full, everything being hit inside your body, all your senses coddled and tapped into. You’ve heard your friends talk about sex so good that you could cry. Well, as Steve’s eyes cast an amber glow that resembles a firelight, you can’t contain yourself. Overloaded and breathless, you rock your hips into his and gasp against his mouth. “It’s good. Fucking perfect, please…”

And you don’t know what you’re asking, but begging for. Luckily for you, Steve does. “Ah, there’s my good girl. Took me so good, so wet and warm for me.”

~*~

You meet one another in the beginning stages of your shared rhythm, a pace that is deep and relentless, the burn that Steve’s size brings only adding to your heightening discombobulation. He’s boasting praises, showering you in their wake. Your body has never felt more alive, more connected. And Steve, he’s went from steady movements, to drawing your calves over his forearms and pressing you back as far as he can get, a disgustingly sensual squelch echoing around the expanse of the room. You’re both too far gone to say anything that isn’t pure and utter filth, so why even try?

He bends down several times to take a nipple in his mouth, alternating, his hair messy from your now consistent pulling. His cheeks are stained pink, body prominent beneath the racing of his heart. That chain slaps messily across his neck and you can’t take it, marking your place, licking it to life. That latches onto Steve and steals the breath from his lungs, the effects heard deep inside his chest cavity. He can’t breathe in anything that isn’t you.

“Steve…” That familiar pressure signals before you’re able to comprehend.

Steve inclines his head and dips his hips to catch on that spot inside your sticky cunt, his hand dropping between your legs and rubbing fast circles around your clit. “That’s a real good babygirl.”

You whine, pressure boiling over, muscles licked and locking down. Steve noses into your jawline and kisses your mouth’s corner. “S’ it, honey. I can feel it. You gonna cum for me?”

“Don’t stop and I will!” You nearly bellow, making him chuckle throatily, and your vision whites out.

Steve fucks you through it and let’s you rest for a brief spell on his shoulder, before he’s throbbing inside of you and he has to look at you, wanting you to watch his face as it scrunches, the softest whimpers falling off his angelic mouth, and he tenses. “Baby… gonna come inside you.”

“Then do it, Steve.” It’s a challenge, a tease to earlier words. You tighten purposely and he sniffles, a warmth flooding you, his body slumping over top yours.

Your heart is hammering beneath your breast, which is smashed into Steve Harrington’s chest hair. He’s softening inside of your pussy, his spend already pooling around where you’re connected, available to view as a webbed shine when he pulls back, easing out, kissing you on the break away. He’s nuzzling you, not able to stop the kisses from flourishing. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“M’ glad you came in here, you know that?” He states, helping you dress first. After your legs regain feeling, that is.

“Me too.” Dorky smiles and shy grins transpire, until…

“So, you mentioned a party? I was thinking I could be your date and save you from the bore of the geezers, after all.”

~*~

One year later

“Mom! No, I told you it was burning five minutes ago, fuck!”

“Language, dear!”

Your mom’s laughter, following that statement can be heard from the next room, obviously charmed by something he said, ignoring your protests about the current dish of the night that’s about to be charcoal for the party guests. She’s never been more calm, making you roll your eyes as she finally does appear. “Don’t worry about it! Did you get the videos?”

You snort, a reminder ringing as clear as the bells playing from the Christmas vinyl on your dad’s record player. You smooth down your floor length black gown, enjoying how it flows in all the right places now. “Don’t I always?”

She shakes her head fondly, throwing a dish rag over her sequin overcoat and heading into the kitchen just as Steve appears in the doorway, his entire appearance ripped straight from vogue. “Wasn’t last year the first time you went to the video store on your own, babe?”

You roll your eyes and step towards him, adjusting his tie and the lapels on his suit jacket. His hair is a bit messy, albeit, still styled, and he’s freshly shaven. Your mouth waters like a woman dying of thirst. Twelve months ago tonight, you can’t believe it. Steve is also thinking the same way, his fingers reaching out to fondly stroke the apple of your cheekbone. “Twelve months ago. Hard to believe I get to be your date for the second year in a row.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love charming the granny panties off everyone here, Harrington.” He shifts his arm for you to cling onto, and you find yourselves locked in a kiss, only breaking apart when a cooing noise is heard from Steve’s hold.

You look down in his arms, an identical pair of eyes that match his own looking back at you, a red bow placed delicately atop her head, and the fullest tule dress your mom could apparently find at the JC Penny. But you can’t deny that it’s melting your heart, the memories, the present. Steve is soft, that reservation he’s got for the three month old baby girl in his arms is unmatchable. He bounces her a little, her stocking clad legs kicking, her shiny dress shoes way too tiny not to be cute.

“There’s daddy’s princess. You awake now, huh? Was it mommy’s bad language?” He’s smirking when he looks at you and you poke him in the mouth, making him chuckle.

Your mom’s footsteps are quick paced, making you and Steve both break apart as you hear her. Steve mutters a ‘grandma super-hearing’ and your mom immediately takes your daughter the moments he steps into the living room. It’s endearingly annoying how she stares your direction as Steve finds your hands (now that his are free). You don’t get the chance to ask her what she wants, before she’s voicing it herself, giggling at yours and Steve’s daughter. “So, I’m getting another one of these for Christmas next year, right?”

The implications cause you to heat up, making Steve get cocky and tease once she’s out of ear shot. “I’ll have to save you and our daughter from the geezers. But if your mom wants another one, wait—“ You frown, Steve leaning in, that raspy voice like melted caramel by your ear, tickling the lobe and electrifying your entire body. “How big is the closet in your old bedroom?”

Happy one year anniversary indeed.

#kristenwrites #my writing #my work #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things blurb #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic

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sanguineterrain · 2 years

Text

Adore You - s.h | e.m.

Summary: When you and Eddie learn that Steve has never celebrated his birthday—and had no intention of letting you know he even had a birthday—you two make it your mission to give him the best birthday ever. Secret parties, however, aren’t always easy to keep secret.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson

Word count: 5k

Warnings: mild angst, misunderstandings, Steve's crappy parents, birthday fluff, happy ending!!

dividers by s-tarksintern

Follow @sanguine-stranger for all my Stranger Things fics updates!

"Yo, Buckley!"

The door jingled, alerting your entrance. Eddie held up a pair of customized Converse by the laces. Robin's eyes lit up.

"Holy shit!" she squealed, walking around the counter. "You’re a dream, Munson.”

"Flatterer," Eddie grinned, tossing her the shoes. "No charge."

She inspected the designs, all carefully hand-painted by Eddie. "Dude, you're awesome. Y/N, tell your boyfriend he's awesome."

"I remind him of that fact everyday," you grinned, pecking Eddie's jaw. "He knows."

"I know," Eddie smirked.

"Well, unfortunately, your other boyfriend sucks," she informed you. "He's been moping all week. And he left me to stack the new releases by myself!"

You frowned. "That doesn't sound like him. Where is he?"

Robin rolled her eyes. "I made him go pick up the tapes Keith ordered. Hopefully he eats something—that’s probably why he’s so cranky.”

"Aw, damn. We were gonna get his measurements to start his jean jacket," said Eddie. ”Don’t tell ‘im, though. It’s a secret.”

"Eds wanted to match," you explained. "Because he's a dork."

"You said it was a good idea, baby," he pouted.

"Both things can be true. It's very cute, honey," you assured. "He'll love it."

"Custom jacket is a great gift," Robin agreed, already lacing up her new shoes. "That's probably the one thing Steve's never gotten for his birthday."

You and Eddie both went still.

"Birthday?" he echoed.

"Yeah, it's next Sunday, remember? I made him look up his astrology chart and y'know what? A lot of it makes sense." She twirled her finger over her temple in a crazy sign. "Good luck."

"Wait, back up." You held up a hand. "Steve's birthday is next week?"

"Uh, yeah? Don't you know his birthday?"

"He never said anything." Eddie's face scrunched. "What the hell?"

"How do you know it, Robs?" you asked.

"I learned it by accident when Steve filled out his job application. You really didn't know? You guys have been dating for a while."

"We figured it had passed." You frowned. "He was just gonna let it come and go without ever telling us."

"Hang on. Maybe he doesn't know you usually tell serious relationships your birthday," Eddie reasoned. "This is the longest relationship he's had."

You thought for a moment, then rapped your knuckles on the counter.

"Actually, we're gonna take off.”

Eddie’s head swiveled to you. “What?”

“We have things to discuss.” You gave him a look, then turned to Robin. “Can you tell Steve we'll meet him at home?"

"You got it," Robin said, giving a two-finger salute. "Godspeed. And please pull that stick out of his ass!"

“Buckley wouldn’t lie about Steve’s birthday, would she?”

“No,” you said, watching the butter melt in Mrs. Harrington’s luxury cast-iron pan. “Definitely not.”

You and Eddie had gotten a copy of the Harringtons' house keys before you'd become something more. After an incident involving dead power lines and Eddie breaking into a window to make sure Steve wasn't bleeding or possessed, Steve had gone ahead and given you keys. He'd said he trusted you with his life—and that Eddie was to never break in again.

"'Kay, we have to approach this tactfully, sweetheart. How 'bout this: I'll bring up my own birthday first. Then it'll be a natural turn into a conversation about his."

"Or," you said, flipping the grilled cheese onto a plate. "We use a tried and true method that boyfriends and girlfriends have used for thousands of years: food and sweet lovin'."

Eddie turned on the puppy eyes. "Do I get one? I'll tell you my birthday too, baby."

"I already know your birthday, big guy," you snorted, setting down another sandwich in front of him.

He pumped his fist. "Another victorious win."

You dusted your hands and leaned on the kitchen island.

"We can't pressure him. That'll only make him retreat,” you mused. “I just hope he doesn't not trust us or anything."

"Nah," Eddie assured around a mouthful of sandwich. "Maybe he's just not a birthday kinda guy."

The 733i pulled into the driveway, engine shortly cutting out. Then you heard Steve's footsteps up to the door and the key turning in the lock.

"Honey, you're home!" Eddie called gleefully.

Steve looked up, startled, then relaxed when he realized it was you two.

"Oh, hey. Robin said you came by. Sorry I missed you—Keith put me on this stupid delivery thing."

"No prob," Eddie said, rising and wiping his hands on his jeans. "We'd much rather have your undivided attention, hot stuff."

Before Steve could remove his uniform, Eddie pulled him into a deep kiss, hands sliding into the seat pockets of Steve's jeans. Steve stumbled from the intensity, clinging to Eddie's shoulders. He melted instantly. Eddie cupped the back of Steve's neck, coaxing out a whine.

"Eds," you groaned. “Come on.”

Steve, puffy-lipped and dazed, watched you with wide eyes as Eddie kept him near.

"What? Too much?"

"At least let him sit down before you suck face," you chided, pulling out a chair.

"Was just doing the sweet lovin' bit," Eddie mumbled.

Steve eagerly turned to you, clearly hoping for a match in affection. You gave in a little, since he'd had a bad day, but it was important to save the main goods for the interrogation.

"Eat," you ordered after pressing a few quick kisses to his lips. "Robin said you missed lunch."

"Snitch," he sighed, picking up the sandwich. "Wasn't that big of a deal."

"You already don't eat breakfast as often as you should. Do I need to come down here and force feed you pancakes every morning?"

"Well." Steve swallowed. "Not gonna say no."

“You are so lucky you’re cute.”

“How ‘bout me, baby?” Eddie beamed. “Am I cute too?”

“Oh, the cutest,” you cooed, pulling him down by his leather jacket collar and nipping playfully at his lips.

“Tease,” he complained.

“We’ll get there.”

Soon, Steve was down to the crusts of his sandwich. You propped yourself on your elbows, smiling sweetly.

“Want another? Or I can make you something else?”

Steve blinked, toast crumbs on his mouth. “I’m okay, baby. Thank you.”

Phase two. Eddie leapt up to herd Steve over to the couch under the guise of “helping” him take off his uniform. After washing and putting the plate back in the cupboard, you joined them, taking Steve’s other side. The TV was on, turned down low. Eddie gently finger-combed through the slight tangles in Steve’s hair. His lids had started to droop. You pressed a kiss behind Steve’s ear, cupping his chin. Then you traced the freckles on his collarbone, just resting your lips on him. He leaned into your touch.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” you asked mildly, not breaking your movements.

“Hmm? Yeah, everything’s fine,” Steve answered drowsily.

“Work’s okay?”

“Work’s fine. Jus’ today was a pain.”

“Buckley mentioned you haven’t been feeling your best,” Eddie said.

“Oh. Um, I dunno. I'm fine, really."

You glanced at Eddie, who nodded. Steve's hand was on your hip; not wanting anything, just feeling you.

"We heard it's your birthday soon."

The hand stiffened. You remained wrapped around Steve, wanting to keep the atmosphere light.

"Yeah," Steve admitted. "It is."

You kissed his cheek. “Did you wanna do anything for it?”

Steve shrugged shyly. “We don’t have to.”

“We want to,” Eddie said. “If you want to.”

Steve sat up, not looking at either of you. Meticulously, he cracked his knuckles, shoulders tense.

“‘S just, I never really celebrated my birthday. My… my dad said it was stupid to put so much on a day that comes every year. Said I didn't deserve it, most years. But he always wanted a gift for his birthday.”

You and Eddie stayed quiet, waiting for Steve to finish. He moved from his knuckles to a healing cut on his thumb, picking at it.

“I don’t think Tommy H even knew when my birthday was.” He laughed, but it sounded more like a choke. “I guess he wasn’t really a birthday guy either. He took Carol to the lake for her birthday, I remember.”

“We can go someplace for your birthday,” offered Eddie. “Take my van. I’ll even let ya sit up front, since you’d be the birthday boy and all.”

“No, no,” Steve scoffed. “Oh my God, no, that’d be dumb. Not–not that going someplace with you guys is dumb, just that making a big deal about it now would be dumb. I don’t want you guys to have to plan around my birthday.”

You put your hand on Steve’s before he tore his cuticle picking the cut. He looked at you and tried for a smile.

“Plus I didn’t give you a heads up or anything," he continued. "It’d be pretty much impossible to do something now.”

“That’s not—”

“Okay,” you cut Eddie off. “Okay, Steve. If you don’t want to do anything, we won’t. We were just wondering is all.”

He nodded, sucking on his lower lip. Eddie shot you a look behind Steve’s back. You held up a hand, shaking your head.

"Cool. Yeah, it’d just be too much work anyway. I get it. I’m gonna, um, shower. We can watch a movie…?”

You kissed Steve’s lips with a smile. “Think it’s Eddie’s turn to pick.”

He groaned. “Okay, but not Star Wars again. I can recite practically every line at this point.”

“A New Hope is peak cinema,” Eddie informed him. “But whatever. I suppose I can scrounge up something else.”

He waited until Steve disappeared down the hall before pouncing on you.

“What was that, baby?” he whined. “Pretty sure you made his hair deflate.”

“We’re going to give Steve a birthday he’ll never forget. And it couldn’t be a surprise if I told him, could it?”

Eddie’s lips spread into a slow grin. “Was this your plan all along?”

“I had to make sure Steve didn’t genuinely want a party,” you explained. “But I think it’s pretty clear he does. He’s just guilty about it.”

“That was some messed up shit his dad pulled,” Eddie sighed.

Steve didn’t like talking about his family much. They were usually away, including this month. You and Eddie slept over when they were gone—Steve hated being alone in his house.

The shower turned on. You leaned into Eddie, arms around his neck.

“So whaddya say, Eds? Ready to throw our boyfriend the best surprise party ever?”

“I’m following your lead, baby,” he said, bowing to meet your lips. “Let’s do it.”

This was not a good idea.

“Steve said not to break into his house again, Eds. That’s, like, his only rule.”

“This isn’t breaking in! We have keys. Besides, how can we keep this a surprise if we barge in like we own the place?”

“I don’t understand why we can’t just ask him his size.”

Eddie slid open the top dresser drawer. He rifled through socks for a moment, then moved on.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a man for his measurements?” he grinned. “And you need the pictures for the video.”

“Well, hurry up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You heard the front door open. Eddie froze.

“Shit,” you hissed. “Shit, shit.”

“I thought he wasn’t gonna be back till four. What do we do?” Eddie hissed.

“Okay, it’s fine,” you whispered. “I’ll distract him. Work fast.”

You hurried out to the hall, quietly shutting Steve’s bedroom door behind you. Steve was poking around in the fridge. Maybe you could hide? The drapes were long enough, right? Or behind the TV…

“Holy fuck!”

The bottles on the fridge door rattled as Steve flinched upon seeing you. He slammed the door too hard.

“Y/N, Jesus Christ. What are you doing here? I thought you were busy today.”

Steve had wanted to hang out today. You’d made up an excuse about housework. Eddie had faked pneumonia.

“H-hey, Steve. I was—I am busy. But, um… I needed a pan! A frying pan. Mine broke.”

He tilted his head. “You came to my house to steal a pan?��

“Yep. I reeeally need to fry stuff. Plus your mom buys the best cookware.”

“Uh… okay. Well, since you’re here, did you wanna do something? Eddie’s sick so I was thinking we could get lunch and bring it to him.”

You winced. Why did he have to be so sweet?

“I can’t. Any other day I would but I–I shouldn’t even be here, really. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Oh.” Steve nodded. You could tell he was trying not to look too dejected. Fuck.

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

“No, hey, you have things to do. I don’t expect you to drop it all for me.”

God, those big eyes were brutal. But you had to stick it out.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Steve asked, half smiling. “Try not to break my mom’s kitchen.”

He started to walk toward the hall. You raced to block him.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

Steve squinted. “I’m going to my room?”

“Your room?” you said loudly. “Steve is going to his room.”

“Y/N, are you feeling okay? Eddie said he has pneumonia. You didn’t catch anything, did you?”

“I feel fine, Steve. Are you sure you wanna go to your room?”

“Considering my clothes are in there, ideally, yes.”

“Cosmopolitan says changing in different rooms can be empowering.”

“Y/N,” he sighed. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing! What if your room is haunted?”

“What?”

You took Steve by his wrists and dragged him back to the island.

“Maybe you can try changing in the kitchen,” you shouted at the bedroom.

“Honey, you’re kinda freaking me out.”

“I–”

Eddie peeked around the corner, waving. He gave you a thumbs up. You jumped, causing Steve to look truly concerned.

“I,” you began. “Love you! Stevie, baby, I love you. You’re a dream. Keep it tight.”

“Huh?”

You kissed his cheek and backed towards the front door.

“Gotta go!”

“What about your pan?” he called.

“Eggs are overrated!” you rushed out, closing the door.

You bolted down the block where Eddie had parked, cutting through a neighbor’s lawn. Eddie was already in the van, engine running.

“You’d better have gotten those pictures,” you panted. “I ran.”

“Your efforts were not in vain, baby. Great vamping, by the way. You lost me with the haunted room, though.”

“Please drive. I can’t believe there isn’t a single brain cell among the three of us.”

“There is,” Eddie said. “‘S just Steve has it this week.”

“Call Dustin. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“Does anybody have any questions?”

“I have a question,” said Max, raising her hand. “Who the hell is that?”

“This is Spider,” Eddie introduced. “He’s the one letting me borrow his projector and screen for the party.”

“Whassup, dawg?” Spider nodded, piercings glinting as he did so.

“You have a projector guy?” asked Robin.

“I know people,” Eddie defended. “I met Spider at one of my performances.”

“This dude shreds on guitar,” Spider said, then turned to you. “You’re a very lucky woman. I wish you all a lifetime of happiness.”

“Thanks, Spider.” You smiled awkwardly. “Okay, aside from Eddie's friend, any other questions?”

“How long am I keeping Steve occupied?” Robin asked.

“At least until eight. If you need an excuse, I can—”

“No, no,” she grinned, looking too pleased. “I’ll figure something out.”

“O…kay. Dustin, you know what you’re doing?”

“Absolutely,” he said, giving a thumbs up. “And here’s the tape.”

He handed you the video. You took it eagerly.

“Awesome. Now look: ultimately this is to give Steve a great birthday. So let’s focus on that, okay?”

“This is really cool what you’re doing, Y/N,” Lucas decided.

“It also helps that Steve’s no longer a douche,” added Mike.

“Hey,” scolded Eddie. “Watch it, Wheeler.”

“Uh, fellas?” said Robin, who had one of the curtains parted. “Did anybody tell Steve to come over?”

“What?” you yelped, rushing to the window. “Eds, did he call you?”

“Not since yesterday, baby. Gave the pneumatic performance of a lifetime.”

“Shit, shit. Okay, this is fine. It’s fine. Eddie, you’ve just gotta make him go away.”

“What? I’m supposed to be bedridden.”

“I’m sorry, honey, but you gotta. We’re at your trailer. It’ll look suspicious if I come out. Just pretend you’re getting better.”

“I’m no good at lying,” he whined. “Especially not to those baby browns. He’ll see right through me, sweetheart.”

“No, brother, you’ve totally got this,” said Spider. “Treat him like an old Fender. Gentle, but firm.”

Knock! Knock!

“It’s okay,” you added. “It’s only until the end of the week. Here.”

You threw a knitted throw around Eddie’s shoulders.

“What do I even say?” he whispered.

“You’ve been dating for three months,” Robin hissed. “It’s Steve.”

“I don’t need that attitude, Buckley.”

“Eddie?” came Steve’s voice. “Babe, you there?”

Eddie hacked a cough, jiggling the lock.

“Here,” he croaked, pulling open the door. “Steve?”

“Hey," Steve said brightly. "How do you feel?”

“Uh, sick,” Eddie started weakly. “S-so sick. Achoo!”

“Oh.” You winced at Steve’s soft tone. “Okay, that’s cool. I was just—sorry, this is silly but uh, Y/N’s been acting really weird and I dunno, I just haven’t seen you guys much this week. Are we good? That night, with the birthday thing…”

“Yes!” Eddie blurted too loud. “Everything’s good. Everything’s amazing. We haven’t even thought about your birthday.”

Ouch. You didn’t have to see Steve’s face to know what a crash and burn that was.

“Oh. Uh, right. So…” You heard the front steps creak. “Wait, whose bikes are those?”

“What?” Eddie squeaked. “Oh, p-probably some kids left 'em. You know kids, always leaving their shit everywhere.”

“That one kinda looks like Dustin’s…”

“Nope, don’t think so!”

“Eds,” Steve sighed. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Y/N but, like, I wish you’d talk to me instead of making things up. Y/N said she needed to borrow a pan and Robin’s been acting super weird this week. Dustin won’t even come into the store. Everybody’s walking on eggshells around me and—”

He stopped, eyes wide. Eddie pulled the throw tighter.

“Are you… are you guys breaking up with me?”

“What? No! God no, Steve, we’re not breaking up with you. It’s just—we’re just…”

“Yeah?” Steve asked, hopeful.

“...Busy,” Eddie finished lamely. “Really busy.”

“And sick,” Steve said coldly. “Right.”

“Baby…”

“No, it’s—” Steve held up a hand. “It’s fine. Whatever. I’ll see you later. Or not. Tell Dustin hi.”

You covered your face with your hands when the door slammed. It took Steve less than a minute to leave, his car soon rolling out of the park.

“Munson. Dude. No bueno,” Spider said, eyes wide.

“I know!” he cried, tearing the throw off. “Fuck, I know, I know, it was terrible. I’m terrible. And so close to his birthday, God…”

“No, no. Eds, I haven’t been much better,” you said. “I was so caught up in keeping this a surprise…”

And now Steve didn’t even want to see you.

“It’s okay, guys,” Dustin assured. “Steve’ll forgive you once it comes together.”

“He was so hurt,” Eddie cringed. “God, maybe we should just call it off.”

“No,” Robin said firmly. “No way. I have covered for that dingus too many times to let it all go to shit. He’s head over heels for you both. He’ll understand.”

You turned to Eddie with a frown. He pulled you into a hug, kissing the top of your head.

“Whaddya think, Eddie?”

“I think Buckley’s right, sweetheart. Steve’ll understand. He’s just taking it hard ‘cause it’s his birthday.”

“Yeah?”

“I hope so,” he chuckled. “Or I’ll have faked pneumonia for nothing. Plus think about how worth it it’ll be to see the look on his face.”

Eddie was right. Steve deserved this. He deserved a birthday to remember. You had to pull through.

“Okay,” you said. “What time does Party City close?”

“Can I have a taste? Pleeeaaase?”

“For the thousandth time, no!” You moved the mixing bowl away from Eddie’s wandering hands. “You’ll have some soon enough. Why don’t you help the kids with the decorations?”

“I was actually banned from the yard, if you can believe it. Apparently there is such a thing as too many balloons.”

You rolled your eyes. “Take a brownie. One. As compensation.”

Eddie happily took the confection, immediately getting fudge icing and sprinkles on his nose. He took a bite and groaned, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.

“Shit, these are good, baby. He’s gonna love these.”

“Yeah? It’s a new recipe.”

“Hell yeah, angel. Are you gonna make these for my birthday?”

“If you’re good,” you winked, wiping frosting from his lip. “Here, help me decorate the cake. This one’s cooled.”

You had smoothly iced the top of the red velvet cake with cream cheese frosting. In delicate cursive, you’d already written Happy birthday with blue icing. You handed Eddie the piping bag.

“Here, write his name.”

“Shit, okay, I got this.”

Eddie took the bag with both hands, sticking his tongue out in concentration. His aim wasn’t as careful as yours, so the message ended up saying Happy birthday, sTeVE baBY!!!

“Hm. Think he’ll be able to tell who wrote what?”

You bit your lip, leaning into his chest.

“That’s okay, honey. Adds personality. Now, please.” You took the piping bag back. “Please go make sure Spider and the kids aren’t tearing up the Harringtons’ lawn.”

“Very well. I shall return,” he said in his best dungeon master voice. “Save me a cupcake!”

You put the last layer of the birthday cake into the oven. Then the phone rang.

“Harrington residence.”

“Hey there, best girlfriend in the world,” came Robin’s voice. “Are you guys almost done setting up?”

“Almost,” you said, checking the clock. “Give us another half hour. Everything okay with Steve?”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I jimmied the lock to the supply closet and made him think he’s locked in.”

“You what?”

“It’s fine!” she insisted. “He’s just pissed. He’s not, like, having a breakdown or anything.”

“Robin,” you sighed. “That’s not what I meant when I said keep him at work.”

“No, it’s cool. He’s—oh, he’s trying to kick down the door. Gotta go. We’ll be there in thirty minutes!”

Thirty minutes passed in a blur. Spider, oddities aside, got the projector running smoothly. You gave him a half dozen cupcakes and twenty bucks. He bowed deeply, kissed Eddie’s rings, and left. Joyce Byers had generously helped you with the dinner, and as soon as the cake was complete, you warmed the chicken.

“He’s here!” came Will’s voice, who’d been assigned lookout. “He’s here! Places, guys.”

Everyone filed out to the backyard. You and Dustin turned on the projector while Eddie and the others pulled out the screen. You heard them walk through the pool gate with Robin talking louder than usual to signal her entrance.

“...Keith definitely needs to get those locks changed,” Steve was saying.

“You’re so right. We’ll call him first thing tomorrow. Or maybe you could be less of a dingus and not get locked in next time.”

“I have never gotten locked in before! Robin, why won’t you let me inside my house?”

"It's a secret," she grinned.

"Robin, look, I really don't feel up to this. My week has kinda been a bummer and—"

"Steve.” She turned his head to the screen. "Just watch."

The projector clicked on, tape rolling. The screen was blank for a moment before switching to the video.

“What am I saying?” Max had been impatient when you’d caught her after school to record her part.

“It’s his birthday. Say what you’d tell him on his birthday,” you urged from behind the camera.

She looked at the camera, sighing.

“Fine. Hi, Steve. Uh, happy birthday. You’re twenty, right? Practically an old man. Don’t break a hip. Somebody’s gotta watch out for us shitheads.” She smiled then, rolling her eyes. “Guess you’re alright, though. Happy birthday.”

“Hi, Steve.” Joyce Byers sweetly waved at the camera. “Y/N and Eddie are here. They asked me to say a few words to you on your birthday. You guys are such dolls.”

“Mrs. Byers—” you said offscreen. “If you could talk to Steve…?”

“Oh, right. Steve, I know we don’t know each other well, but I’ve heard a lot about you and how you’ve grown into a very nice young man. Thank you for keeping my sons safe, and for protecting the kids. Happy birthday!”

Steve stared, eyebrows to his hairline. His lips were parted, eyes never leaving the screen as Robin herded him into a chair.

“Steve, buddy, hi!” Dustin beamed on screen. “You’re turning twenty, that’s awesome! Um, I wanna say that you’re really cool and you’re like one of my best friends now. Also, Y/N and Eddie did all this and they’re awesome. Please don’t be mad at them for being weird this week—they’ve just been planning hard for your party.”

The others had begun to trickle out of hiding. You and Eddie were slow in joining, not wanting to interrupt the video.

“Harrington,” came Hopper’s firm voice. “Heard you’re turning twenty. I better not get any calls about being drunk and disorderly.” His expression softened into what could almost be called a smile. He nodded at you and Eddie behind the camera. “Glad you’ve found a better crowd to run with. Happy birthday.”

You stepped out fully. Steve’s gaze landed on you and Eddie. His eyes were glassy.

“Happy birthday, Steve,” El, Lucas, and Mike yelled. “Hope it’s awesome!” she added.

“Hey,” you whispered.

“Hey,” Steve said, equally as soft. “How did—what—”

“Happy birthday, dingus!” Robin sang on film. “Okay, wait. Look at them for a second.” She shifted the camera around, panning it around to you and Eddie.

“Robin!” you squealed on camera, trying to push it back around. “Speak to him!”

“No, you guys should get a feature too. Steve, these two love you so much and you’d better not fuck it up because they really are the best.”

She turned it back to her, smiling.

“Now I’ll say my piece: you’re my best friend. Not to get sappy and shit, but you’re a good guy and you deserve good things. Happy birthday.”

The tape rolled to a stop. You held your breath. A tear slipped down Steve’s cheek. Eddie was quick to swipe it away from his thumb.

“Babe,” Eddie murmured. “Is–is this okay?”

“Okay?” Steve choked. “Okay?”

“We know,” Eddie continued, grimacing, “that we’ve been acting fucking weird but only because we wanted this to be a surprise. We’re real sorry, babe.”

“Don’t—Jesus, don’t be sorry—” Steve gasped, stumbling forward.

He threw both arms over you and Eddie. You hugged him back hard, kissing his shoulder.

“Happy birthday, big guy,” Eddie said.

“We love you so much,” you added. “Happy birthday, Stevie.”

“You guys did this all for me? I thought…shit.”

Steve sniffed, rubbing his eyes. Eddie kissed him first, then you went. Steve gasped into your mouth, overwhelmed.

“You okay?” you murmured, cupping his cheeks. “Not too much?”

“No. It’s perfect. It’s—God, a single cupcake would’ve been great. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“We wanted to! We love you! I love Steve Harrington and Y/N L/N!” Eddie shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Eds,” you scolded laughingly, tugging his arm. “You’ll wake the neighbors, quit!”

Eddie pulled Steve in by his waist.

"Let 'em complain. Our favorite guy's birthday is today."

You led Steve and the others back into the house. There, you began to dish out the food. Steve stayed close as you and Eddie helped the kids serve themselves. The dining room had been decorated with pictures of Steve. With you, with Eddie, with Robin, at school, in the summer, whatever photos you could find.

“These were what we had to get a few days ago,” you explained.

“That’s why a bunch of photos are missing from my room,” Steve said.

“Yeah, Eddie’s no James Bond, clearly,” you laughed. “But we… well, we made the theme Memory. ‘Cause you haven’t really had any good birthdays. So we hope this’ll start a new line of memories.”

Steve bit his lip, rubbing his eye.

“Please don’t cry, handsome,” Eddie pleaded, wiping another stray tear from Steve’s cheek. “This is supposed to be happy.”

"No, I am happy. You two always bring life into this house," Steve murmured. "You make it feel like home."

You covered the pans and pulled your boys near.

"Well, we can do this as much as you want. Eddie and I will cook anytime you like, honey."

"I cooked," Eddie said proudly. "I also did some decorating. Shit, your present!"

Steve's eyes widened. "My present? This wasn't it?"

"No, duh. We had to get you a gift, obviously."

"You didn't have to—"

"But we wanted to," you interrupted, silencing Steve with a kiss. "Will you let us spoil you?"

Eddie gave Steve a gift bag stuffed with his favorite newspaper funnies.

"A jacket?” Steve gasped. "Eddie, it’s…”

"Now we can match," Eddie said giddily. "Y/N has jeans to complete the set."

Eddie had customized the back of the jacket with a mix of his, yours, and Steve's favorite patches. On the sleeve it said bestest birthday boy!!!! He'd also patched on a heart that said S.H. hearts E.M. + Y.N.

"You looked so good in Eddie's vest," you slyly grinned. “Hawkins won’t survive with you killing in denim.”

"Okay, well, I hope you know you're only giving me a giant ego, so," Steve announced.

"It's your birthday," Eddie shrugged. "We can afford it."

"Hey, are we eating or what!" shouted Dustin.

"Eat, eat, we'll be there in a sec," you called back.

"Probably making out in the kitchen," you heard Robin mutter.

Steve took your and Eddie's hands in his. He sniffed, smiling wide.

"Thank you. Really. This is—this is the most special thing anybody's ever done for me."

"Good," you said, kissing his temple. "You deserve this and more."

"Yeah, and just so you know," Eddie added. "This is only the beginning. Now that we know your birthday, you're not escaping us, Harrington."

"Oh?" Steve laughed bashfully, apple-cheeked and glowing. "How on earth are you gonna top this one?"

You and Eddie grinned at each other.

"It’s a surprise.”

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington x reader x eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic

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writers-hes · 1 year

Text

Hallmark Holiday (e.munson x reader)

SYNOPSIS: You love holidays, especially Valentine’s Day, but Eddie thinks that Valentine’s Day is a made up holiday to increase chocolate, card, and flower sales. REQUESTED: no (working on something really cute tho…) WARNINGS: fluff, angst, really really tooth rotting fluffy ending, not proofread PAIRINGS: Eddie Munson x Reader WORD COUNT: 3.4k+ helpful links: navigation | master lists | rules and guidelines | tag list | fic recs

A/N: To my yearly valentines, Happy Valentine’s Day!

“It’s Valentine’s Day soon,” Dustin Henderson says, putting his tray down on the lunch table. “What are your plans, gentlemen?”

“I’ll probably try giving Max some chocolates or flowers. I don’t know what she really likes,” Lucas replied. “I think a new cassette tape?”

“Hm,” Dustin nodded, and then looked at Mike for his input.

“I mean, my girlfriend is in California,” he shrugged. “I’ll probably send her a letter.”

Eddie listened in as everybody talked about their Valentine’s plans. Gareth was planning on asking someone out. Jeff was taking somebody to the movies.

“You’re all so lame,” Dustin groaned, taking a spoonful of his chocolate pudding. “I’m going to build a small radio system for my Suzie. It will play all her favorite songs all night long,”

“Turn around…look at what you see,” Lucas teased, earning a shove from Dustin.

“Is that even possible? She’ll probably get sick of you, dude,” Gareth chimed in.

“Not my Suzie-poo. She loves stuff like this. Radios, technology, and all that,” Dustin replied. “It will be perfect and I will be the best boyfriend ever,”

“Nope, not gonna happen,” Jeff chimed in. “Eddie here prides himself as the best one, hm?”

“You have a girlfriend?”

“Who’s your girlfriend?”

“Do we know her?”

Questions from his juniors floated around the air and Eddie chuckled.

“Yes, if you’re so curious,” he told them.

“But we’ve never seen her,” Gareth added. “We don’t even know her name,”

“Well, what are you doing for Valentine’s Day?” Dustin asked.

“Nothing,” Eddie shrugged, his eyes confused. “Valentine’s day is just a fake holiday Hallmark made up to increase sales,” Upon the disbelief on his friend’s faces, Eddie continued. “Besides, she’s not that kind of girl. She doesn’t like holidays.”

“I’m so excited for Valentines,” you gushed to Robin. “Eddie’s so sweet, I know he’ll do something. Obviously, I don’t expect something grand or whatever but you know, it would be nice to go to the movies or have a dinner date,”

Robin still couldn’t believe that one of her best friends was dating Eddie Munson. According to you, you met Eddie at work. You were busy shelving the latest-released books when he came up to you, asking for any stocks of The Lord of the Rings. You told him you’ll take him there and you did and then, he took you out on a date.

Being a reader, you were such a romantic at heart. You’d have no problem reading the day away as long as it was a romance book. Eddie would always groan but you knew that he never minded. In fact, you both loved to spend the day reading together in your room, in their trailer, or somewhere else. You loved big gestures and small gestures—you loved how romantic and silly Eddie is. He’d hold your hand at the mall and surprise you with flowers. You loved it all and Valentine’s Day, when every single mushy thing was allowed, was your favourite.

“Hm, I wonder what to get for Eddie,” you mused. “He’s been looking at this dice set that had a matching guitar pick. Should I get that? It has the detailing of his guitar,”

“That sounds nice,” Robin replied. “What are you getting for me? It’s galentines too, you know,”

“It’s a secret,” you said. Every year, on the fifteenth, you, Robin, and Nancy would hold what was called a “Galentines” when you spend the night over at home with chocolates and ice cream. You’d end the night with gifts for each other and it was another tradition that you looked forward to.

“Fine, fine,” Robin said. “Can’t believe I’m spending another Valentine’s Day single,”

“Or…you can ask a pretty girlie named Vickie,” you teased.

“Ugh, no! Vickie doesn’t like boobs,” Robin complained.

“But Steve said—“

“Steve doesn’t know anything!” she said. “Trust me. Vickie likes lots of things except boobs,”

“Eddie!” you squealed, caught by surprise as you opened your car. You felt his familiar curls and warmth behind you, wrapped around you. He chuckled, kissing your head before detaching himself. “Are you coming along with me?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I saw you just as I was about to enter the building and decided to say hi,”

“Hi,” you greeted, smiling up at him.

“Hi, baby,” he replied, kissing your forehead. You raised your head higher, towards him and he chuckled before pecking your lips lightly. “Well, I gotta go. The boys are waiting for me,”

“Bye, Eddie!” you said. “I’ll call you later okay?”

“Yeah,” he said before running off, warmth flooding your chest. You couldn’t help it but you were sure that Eddie was going to surprise you for Valentine’s Day. It was your first Valentine’s together and it was so important for you to let him feel loved. The matching dice and pick was heavy in your purse and you drove off to the next store.

You arrived at a record store just outside of Hawkins. You had the manager, Piper, help you with a playlist you’ve carefully curated for Eddie. She sometimes accepted playlist commissions, personalising multiple playlists for people. You were lucky that you found her, she was very hands-on and passionate about music.

“Hey, kid,” she greeted, a smile on her face. “Here to get Eddie’s mixtape?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. Excitement showed itself on your face as she unwrapped a special cassette before you. On it was a sticker of Eddie’s Hellfire design stuck on the plastic. Instead of dice and flames, Piper opted for pink and red hearts—something that reminded her of you.

“Piper, this is so beautiful,” you gasped. On the back of the cassette was your name and Eddie’s. It was beautiful and you were so excited to see Eddie’s face light up. You paid her and left the store, going to the local supermarket to buy chocolates and candies for your boyfriend. You even bought heart-shaped chocolates and biscuits for Steve, Wayne, Mike, Dustin, Max, and Lucas. Robin and Nancy’s gifts were already tucked away separately in your home.

At home, you poured your entire time on cutting up hearts and wrapping the gifts in themed wrapping papers. You added a note on each of them, looking forward to giving them to your friends on Monday, Valentine’s Day.

Monday comes and you smile at the plate of heart-shaped pancakes your mom made for you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” she greeted, kissing the side of your head. “Dad and I are going to have a lovely dinner tonight. What are your plans with Eddie?” she asked before sitting beside you.

“I don’t know but I’m so excited. He’s been acting suspicious lately and I know it’s a surprise,” you said, telling her about the time when you saw Eddie rush to the mall.

“Whatever it is, I’m so excited to hear all about it!” she said. “Except for the parts I don’t want to know, of course.”

“Mom!” you groaned. “It’s nothing like that, I promise,”

“Okay, okay!” she laughed and you chuckled. Maybe the reason why you loved Valentine’s Day so much was because of how your parents celebrated it. Your mom always made heart-shaped pancakes with berry syrup in the morning. She and your dad would have a special Valentine’s day gift for you. It was always a great time when you watched them reveal their gifts for each other. A watch that your dad liked. A cooking class that they’ve been eyeing. It was always heartwarming and you knew that it was something you wanted to share with Eddie.

You were bummed because Eddie didn’t pick you up but it was fine. He didn’t have to do it all the time…it’s just that it was Valentine’s Day.

Walking in the school corridor, you smiled when Nancy linked her arms with yours.

“Happy Valentines!” she greeted. “Where to?”

“My locker! I’ll get some stuff for the next subjects. You?”

“Going with you,” she replied. “I wonder what Eddie has up on his sleeve for Valentine’s. How are you guys spending it?”

“I don’t know yet,” you told her. “He’s so secretive about it,”

“Really?” Nancy asked. “Maybe he has some big surprise for you! I’m so excited to see all of it,”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” she shrugged. “Eddie adores you. There’s nothing that man won’t do to make you happy,”

“How about you and Jonathan? How are you guys spending it?” you asked.

“I’ll call him later,” you heard her say.”But he sent a package of pictures that he collected over the years, some chocolates, and a sweet note! I’ll let you read them tomorrow,”

“Nancy! That’s so sweet,” you gushed. You stopped in front of your locker, bracing yourself for a letter that could fall when you opened it. You breathed as you unlocked it, shoulders falling when you found that it was empty. No roses, chocolates, or a sweet note. Come to think of it, Eddie didn’t wait for you by the door.

“Don’t worry,” Nancy said upon seeing your crestfallen expression. “I’m sure there’s something,”

“Y-yeah,”

You watched as couples celebrated by surprising each other during lunch time. Eddie seemed to be determined to ignore you for the rest of the day but you brushed it off—maybe there’s a surprise.

Meanwhile, Eddie looked puzzled. In front of him, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike were all rushing to get wrapped gifts from their pockets.

“Dude! Your gift sucks,” Dustin snickered, seeing Mike’s crumpled gift paper.

“I didn’t have any space in my bag because some asshole asked me to keep his jersey because he forgot his bag,” Mike replied, scowling at Lucas who only seemed to shrug.

“Anyways, doesn’t she sit with Nancy?” Lucas asked, a box of chocolates tied with a pink ribbon in his hand. Dustin replied with the affirmative while Eddie looked at them, wondering who this girl is to receive such thoughtful gifts from his juniors. He continued to watch as the juniors ran towards Nancy Wheeler’s table; to you. He leaned in, trying to make out the conversation but he couldn’t.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike all said hey, shy smiles on their faces. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I got you something.” You rummaged through your bag until you found three red boxes all with personalised names and messages. “Dustin, Lucas, and Mike…here you go,”

“Thank you!” Dustin beamed before giving his gift for you. The others did the same and you chuckled at their excitement. In Dustin’s box was a baseball hat in his favourite colorway, Lucas got a shirt that he could use for practice, while Mike got a cute polo for his next Californian trip. You heard more expressions of appreciation before they walked back to the Hellfire table. Your smile dropped when you saw Eddie frowning before turning away, looking at the kids’ best attempt to wrap their gifts.

“You’re really close with them,” one of your friends commented and you nodded.

“Yeah, well, I used to babysit them alot and we kind of just stayed friends,”

“You know her?” Eddie asked the trio when they sat back down.

“Yeah. She used to babysit us and Valentine’s kind of became a tradition,” Mike replied. “She makes sure we get things like these every year especially because we had no girlfriends back then,”

“Oh,” Eddie nodded, a soft smile on his face. “That’s nice of her,”

“Yeah. She gives these things to all of us. Robin, Nancy, Steve, Max, and everyone else,” Lucas added. “I don’t know. Somebody slipped that she has a boyfriend now so maybe she’ll get something big,”

Eddie scoffed. You weren’t like that…right?

The bell rings and students of Hawkins High fill the corridors. It was Valentine’s Day and there was love in the air. Couples were more affectionate than usual and everyone received flowers, chocolates, and everything else for the holiday…everyone except for you, it seemed.

You smiled when Eddie ran towards you in your meeting place, the benches by the woods.

“Hey,” he said, smiling at you before kissing your head.

“Hi, Eddie,” you greeted, a blush on your face.

“Why did you ask to meet here?”

“Well…it’s uh, Valentine’s Day and—“

“and we don’t celebrate it, right?” he asked.

“Oh,” you nodded, swallowing and slyly putting away the gift box you’ve been hiding from him. “W-we don’t?”

“I mean, we don’t celebrate holidays,”

“We do, though…” you replied weakly. Your heart dropped at Eddie’s teasing smile.

“Come on, princess. We don’t. We didn’t celebrate New Year’s Day or Christmas,” he countered before chuckling.

“We baked cookies on Christmas day and spent New Year’s Eve with the kids,” you offered. “But…um, anyways…I know we don’t celebrate holidays,” you replied bitterly. “but I thought it’d be nice to get something for my boyfriend,”

Eddie’s teasing smile drops when he hears the waver in your voice. You were trying so hard not to frown, blinking the tears away when you bent down and retrieved a red and black box from your bag.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eddie,” you smiled weakly. You ran off with your bag before Eddie could even say anything. He was just dumbfounded. He groaned before plopping on the bench, opening the box and seeing everything you’ve gotten for him—a guitar pick, a dice set, a mixtape, and a note.

Happy first Valentine’s day, Eddie. I love you.

Your boyfriend ran a hand on his face. It was the first time you told him that you loved him and he tanked it because he thought you weren’t the type to celebrate Valentine’s. What stupid reason made him believe so? You baked cookies for Christmas and exchanged gifts but Eddie thought that it was obligatory. You spent the New Year’s Eve together but isn’t that what couples do? Wasn’t Valentine’s Day just a small holiday? A holiday that greeting cards made up to increase sales?

He felt stupid—of course you’d celebrate Valentine’s Day. It was going to be your first Valentine’s Day and you loved to celebrate things. Your first month anniversary, Eddie passing an exam…you loved to celebrate. So, why didn’t he think of celebrating this with you?

“Jesus Christ!”

“He said that we weren’t the type to celebrate Valentine’s day,” you told Nancy and Robin. As soon as you got home, you asked them if it would be okay to celebrate your Valentine’s together. They immediately agreed, bringing with them gifts, chocolates, and snacks.

“He’s so dumb,” Robin replied. “Sorry. I was the one who planted that he might have a big surprise for you,”

“It’s okay, Robs,” you assured her. “I just…it kind of sucks because I was really looking forward to spending more time with him but I’m really thankful that you guys agreed to celebrate a day early. I don’t want to spend Valentine’s alone,”

“It’s alright,” Nancy replied. “Jonathan and I already called each other. We have the whole night free,”

“Pizza and cheesy romcoms?” you asked them.

“Pizza and cheesy romcoms,” Robin replied. “Let’s watch the cheesiest ones! I brought some tapes from Family Video,”

It’s not like Eddie could call anybody else. Hellfire was doing something and he hoped—at least that Steve Harrington didn’t bring anyone to a Valentine’s Dinner.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” he mumbled as he listened to Harrington’s phone ring.

“Hello?”

“Steve!” he exclaimed.

“Huh, you’re not on a date?” Steve asked. He was confused. Didn’t he have a girlfriend?

“I wouldn’t be calling if I was!”

“Geez, sorry. Just wondering because you have a girlfriend and as far as I’m concerned, she’s really big on celebrations,” Steve explained.

“Look, sorry—I didn’t mean to be rude but can I come over?”

“Sure.”

“So you’re telling me, you didn’t get her anything or do anything?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know she was the type to celebrate! I mean, I really thought that we only celebrated New Years and Christmas because it was an obligation since it’s such a big holiday,” he rambled. “I mean, I should’ve figured out that we’re supposed to celebrate it because it’s our first Valentine’s but I didn’t and now I feel terrible because she told me that she loves me and had this beautifully elaborate gift and I gave her nothing!”

“Hold on,” Steve said. “She told you she loved you? You’re fucked,”

“I know and I really love her and I don’t know if she’ll believe me because I gave her nothing!”

“Just…explain everything, man. I’m sure she’d understand,” Steve assured. “I mean, obviously you fucked up but if you’re honest and you explain everything, I’m sure it’d be fine,”

“You really think so?” Eddie asked. Steve nodded. It was amusing to see Eddie so worried. He never usually worries and it’s true that Eddie had never had a girlfriend before. He’s been on a few dates, sure but never a girlfriend. It was quite entertaining, to say the least—the metalhead falling head over heels for Hawkins’ Sweetheart.

The lights are on, but you're not home

Your mind is not your own…

“Jesus Christ, who’s playing songs in the morning?” Robin groaned, burying her head to the bed.

There's no doubt, you're in deep

Your throat is tight, you can't breathe

Another kiss is all you need

“Quit it!” Nancy added. “It’s like…five in the morning,”

Whoa, you like to think that you're immune to the stuff, oh yeah

It's closer to the truth to say you can't get enough

You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to love

You groaned before checking to see where the song came from. Who in their right mind would play a love song at eight o’clock? You groggily waddled your way to the window. The sound came from outside, that you were sure.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, altering Robin and Nancy.

“What? What?” Robin asked, sitting up.

“It’s Eddie,” you told them. “He’s outside!”

Your friends ran towards the window and sure enough, Hawkins’ Eddie Munson was outside, standing on your porch carrying a boombox.

“Oh my god,”

A teddy bear hugging a red heart was sitting on a foldable chair. Eddie’s black van was adorned with red and pink balloons. A big “I love you bear-y much” sign could be seen leaning on the van.

You left your friends standing with their mouths wide open, running towards Eddie.

Eddie felt warmth on his cheeks when he saw Nancy and Robin but he didn’t care. He’s done worse things to get attention and this one would actually take the cake. His arms were wobbling but he didn’t care. He waited until you got out of your house, hair sticking out everywhere.

“Hi, Eddie,” you greeted, a shy smile on your face. Eddie puts the boombox down before smiling at you.

“Hello, princess,”

“What are you doing here?”

“Well, I wanted to apologize to you,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t celebrate Valentine’s with you yesterday. I, uh, didn’t know how to celebrate it and I didn’t know that you celebrated it. It’s all on me, though because it’s our first Valentine’s and we should’ve done something together and I just—I didn’t know. I’m really sorry,”

“Eddie—“

“Look! This teddy bear says I love you bear-y much and I love you bear-y much. I looked for the biggest bear I could find in Hawkins but if you don’t like the bear, I have these berries,” he stopped when he picked up a container of chocolate-coated strawberries that he and Steve made last night. “and it’s supposed to say that I love you berry much and I do love you. Please don’t break up with me. I promise to celebrate every holiday with you and make you feel important and special and—“

“Eddie! It’s okay,” you laughed. “You’re forgiven,”

“I’m really sorry I have these chocolates—wait, I am?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Just…talk to me about things next time, okay? If we’re unsure about something, let’s talk about it and find a common ground,”

“Okay,” he nodded. “That…that’s actually good. I’ll learn everything about you…how to treat you the best and stuff,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

“Question—were you gonna camp out here if I didn’t go out?” you asked.

“Yeah but I’ll definitely have to put the stereo down at some point. My arms almost gave up. It’s a good thing I have my charm with me, huh?” he asked, taking a step closer.

“Yeah, really good thing,” you nodded, taking Eddie’s face and kissing him where you wanted to kiss him the most.

TAGLIST:

@rayodesol97 @moistmocca @munsonology @sadbitchfangirl @bebe0701 @tayhar811 @aol19 @eddiesprincess86 @undeadgirlsworld @rosemarythl @rosemary_thl @eddiethesexy @sister-cirice @weaslyslut01 @himynameisjeff @captainweirdo42 @alyisdead

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madhattersez · 1 year

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I finally got my hands on something I've been looking for (for a reasonable price) since I was just a lowly little level 12 hornball - A "Marvel Swimsuit Special!"

This is the second issue in the series (though the third book of its kind), and it was released in 1993 when... times were different.

The coolest thing about them (other than the totally radical '90s hunkeroos and baberinos in general) is the amount of really talented artists that submitted pieces - So many industry-leading folks putting their spin on the self-aware, low-brow, tongue-in-cheek project.

This first image was by Joe Jusko, a super popular cover artist at the time. I remember his Conan covers the most.

I'll eventually scan the whole thing in high quality, but for now, I'll take some preview pics to show you some of my favorite and/or goofiest pages:

Here is Domino, looking like we might need to race her to a Dermatology appointment. She's apparently tacky enough to wear a swimsuit with a domino print on it.

And check out Cable in the back - Sun's out, cyberbun out! He's ready to catch some waves on a totally-worth-the-money-and-production-time rocket-powered machine gun surfboard.

I really appreciate this artist's commitment to all the "Liefeld pouches" here. I hope they're waterproof, or all those Tic Tacs inside 'em are gonna get ruined. :(

Penciling by Chris Batista, ink by Hector Collazo, coloring by Mark McNaab.

Let's kick off the "after the jump" part properly with this glorious image of Pip. Because this is certainly what people bought this book for.

It just so happens that this fuzzy little asshole narrates the entire issue, so he's to blame for the inherently sexist captions on all the pictures.

Jesus Christ, he's got two big toes on each foot.

Pencilking by Darick Robertson, ink by Andrew Pepoy, coloring by Tom Smith.

I love me some Cloak and Dagger.

Tandy looks as gorgeous as ever. Surely she owns stock in boobie tape by now.

Tyrone, however, is getting so much sand stuck to him right now... I don't think he digs being used as a beach blanket. I'm... not even sure he's ever had to wash his cloak before today! Yikes. He's all like:

Penciling by Joe Madureira, ink by Terry Austin, and coloring by Gregory Wright.

I can't stop laughing at how much Thunderstrike looks exactly like the Genetic Freak, Big Poppa Pump Scott Steiner in this picture:

The work is entirely by Lou Harrison. It may not surprise you to learn he's also a Fantasy artist.

I've always had a thing for Silver Sable, and this page is just fantastic.

That being said, my favorite part is Sandman sitting there, looking like a dope, shaped like a sand castle. Which, while it seems silly, was probably the most challenging and detailed thing I've ever seen him do with his powers. Worth it for the shot, I suppose!

Line work and ink by Steven Butler, a favorite of mine. He did penciling for the "Silver Sable and the Wild Pack" series (which got me attached), but he's also known for designing the Scarlet Spider suit. Coloring by Gregory Wright.

If you thought I wasn't going to Morb out on this post, you were undead wrong.

Just look at that ridiculous batpackage. Also... Is he really serving a cape over a leather jacket, but with absolutely no pants? Damn, dude.

Penciling by Gary Barker, ink by Jimmy Palmiotti, coloring by Tom Smith.

I can spot Adam Hughes' work a mile away, wow. I guess I didn't realize he was doing work for Marvel this far back.

A fierce-as-ever, short-haired Natasha who looks like she got slammed so hard against a rocky wall that it cracked, got up, emptied out the rest of her clip, and still had enough time and energy to pose during a reload.

Black Widow, bay-bayyy. ♫

Oh my god, Ghost Rider is just so naughty. Wearing nothing but his birthday bones.

This scene just looks like it smells awful.

Artwork by Tristan Shane.

Shulkie in a metal bikini (function over fashion?), bursting out of the lava from an active volcano. You wanna talk "hot tub?" Sure, this gets a feature.

Penciling and ink by cover artist Steve Geiger, coloring by Paul... Mounts.

Deezamn, Bishop. Never seen guy looking so buff before.

Instead of just Bishop, this looks like Hank McCoy and Bishop had a child together. Does he have any other mode than "arm vein p-pop?"

Penciling by Dwayne Turner, ink by Mark Farmer, coloring by Gregory Wright.

Ah, one of the more famous '90s Psylocke images that wasn't done by Jim Lee.

This centerfold was used in lots of comic store ads for several years after this issue came out. I remember seeing posters in the shops themselves. Trading cards of this picture are one of the most costly to collect.

It's beautiful, and the colors/lighting/shading are all fantastic.

Penciling and ink by the wonderful Art Thibert, creator of the Raft max security prison and inker of some of the most iconic X-title covers.

Coloring by Paul Mounts, who did the coloring in hundreds and hundreds of just Marvel comics alone - I didn't mention that earlier because I was snickering at his name earlier in the She-Hulk feature. My bad.

Well, this wouldn't be Tumblr without a cat picture, yeah? Or a catgirl picture, I suppose.

This is the most adorable scene in the book. Just Tigra innocently taking a cuddle nap with some... um... wow, I don't know what the fuck those things are. Snuggle up anyway!

Penciling and ink by Amanda Conner, coloring by Gregory Wright.

Huh. Of all the characters in this book, I really didn't expect to see Dr. Cooper... Either which way, the swimsuit under the detective get-up is pretty choice, honestly.

This is, of course, another Adam Hughes line art joint. Ink by Mark Farmer, coloring by Gregory Wright (who did a lot of these, huh?).

What's this? A parody ad that you'd more expect to see in an issue of "What The--?!" that only '80s kids will understand? Yup, totally.

This was in the back of the book and doesn't fit the theme at all, but it gets a mention because of the weird inclusion and also to stall time until I had the final image ready, because I needed time to prepare...

THIS.

This is the one.

How could I not end this little "show and tell" without this beauty right here?

Here, we have remorseless killer Frank Castle flexing his best end-of-catwalk pose in front of a... wrestling match between a bunch of lady demon dinosaurs battling... for his affection? To tip him American cash? Or maybe all those hearts come from their love of beating each other up? I'm not here to judge.

And then there's a sign for 75 cent hotdogs, but it's been covered with another sign for... $20 tooth brushes? What in the shit is going on here?

There is one thing I do know, though. The artist wants you to think that The Punisher has at least $2.75 worth of hotdog under that massive crotch skull.

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orbitariums · 1 year

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steve harrington x black reader with big boobs

this is perfect for me since i’m also black with big boobs and if anyone is going to sexualize my boobs i want it to be steve harrington! read if you please :)

steve is a very touchy person, constantly grabbing on to you and pulling you close, putting his hand on the small of your back, leaning in from behind to whisper in your ear during conversations with other people

but he simply cannot keep his hands to himself when it comes to your boobs

to him, they fit perfectly in his hand, even though they spill out comically over the sides

and steve has big hands

it’s honestly a wonder to him, no matter how many times he’s seen them that doesn’t mean he’ll ever stop exclaiming aloud in astonishment

he’ll just be playing with your tits and softly tweaking your nipples with his fingers while you straddle his lap and roll your hips against his clothed erection, looking for any sense of release

“fuck yn, where’d you get these?” steve will ask, his voice an octave lower and quiet, eyes right in line with your tits

he makes sure your boobs are absolutely included in foreplay

he likes squeezing them, putting them in his mouth and sucking the squishy flesh, flicking your erect nipples with his tongue while he glares up at you with an absolutely wiped out expression of lust in his eyes

loves making you moan while he plays with your nipples— he knows how sensitive you get

he’s figured out that your boobs will get puffier and more tender depending on where you are in your cycle, so he’ll act like he’s measuring them with his hands

you think it’s stupid but he thinks it’s the funniest thing on planet earth

when you’re just sitting on his lap watching a movie or just spending time with each other, steve’s hands will very frequently find their way up your shirt and he’ll nonchalantly play with or squish your boobs

he does it so often that you’ve had to stop him from doing it subconsciously while you’re with friends or family— it’s not even sexual all the time, he truly just likes how warm and squishy they are

he’s a big fan of using them for comfort or as stress balls, but he never squeezes too hard

unless you’re fucking of course

then, steve’s got one hand wrapped around your neck and one tightly squeezing your tits

sometimes he’ll slap your tits with his hands or cup them firmly while you’re riding him

loves smacking his dick against your boobs

he says the dirtiest things about your tits when you’re fucking

“fuck, you fucking goddess, look at those tits bouncing”

“show me those tits, baby, let me see ‘em”

“you’re fucking perfect baby– perfect fucking tits, sliding up and down my fucking cock”

“your tits look so good with my dick in between them”

those last two are usually accompanied by him thrusting his cock between your boobs while you give him a tit job

he wants one nearly every time you fuck, but you like to keep it from him until you feel he really deserves it

and if you’re wearing something that especially shows off your boobs?

steve can’t keep his hands off you

he knows other people look but he isn’t intimidated, he just knows he’s gonna make sure you ride him tonight so he can grab your tits and ask “who do these belong to?”

always accompanied by an enthusiastic, “you, stevie, they’re yours”

he’s a great boyfriend too. whenever your back is hurting because of the literal weight of your boobs, he’s there giving you a massage and doting on you, giving you sweet kisses

he helps you when you need to use tape on your boobs for an outfit or when you’re buying new bras

he defends you from weird guys that do too much

“dude, seriously? could you make it any more obvious?”

steve is definitely a boobs>ass man

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x black reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington smut #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut

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purrgilpawkins · 5 months

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Burning Love

Summary: After an encounter with Hotstreak, Virgil takes it upon himself to kiss and make Richie better.

Pairings: Richie Foley/Virgil Hawkins

Warnings: n/a

AO3 Link in Replies

“Ow!” Richie yelped, snatching his hand from Virgil’s grasp and the Terrorsome Tweezers he was using to remove the fabric stuck to Richie’s hand.

The fabric that stuck to his hand after Hotstreak had managed to catch Gear off guard, grabbing hold of said hand just as he’d been about to take off, and burning Gear’s glove badly enough so it wouldn’t come off without a fight. Luckily, Static had come to the rescue before Hotstreak could do any real damage.

Back at the Gas Station, the dynamic duo checked the damage and both heroes had determined it wouldn’t require a doctor’s assistance (not that they’re knowledgeable enough to make that call.)

Virgil sighed an ever patient sigh and gently took Richie’s hand in his, pulling it back toward him to resume his ministrations.

“Chill, Rich. I’m almost done,” Virgil said, trying not to feel guilty over Richie’s flinching that accompanied every plucked piece of synthetic fabric.

With another piece plucked and another hiss of pain from Richie, Virgil clicked the tiny tweezers together twice as he turned Richie’s hand over and back, looking for any more bits of the gruesome glove. Virgil sighed again, relieved that the worst was finally done, and placed the tweezers beside himself on the rickety coffee table he was using as a chair. He then reached out for the bottle of aloe lotion, stubbornly not looking at the table as his hand bumped into a roll of bandages and the tweezers he’d just placed down. Finally, Virgil’s hand found the smooth plastic bottle and picked it up.

“I’m done tweezing, dude. You can stop bracing for impact.”

Richie opened his eyes a smidge and untensed his shoulders at the sight of Virgil squeezing the lotion into his hand. Setting the bottle down, Virgil began rubbing his hands together, coating his hands completely, and reached out to take Richie’s hand in his once more. Richie inhaled sharply, bracing for sudden pain, but exhaled upon the immediate relief at the cool feeling enveloping his uncomfortably hot hand. As Virgil rubbed it in, he couldn’t help but be glad that Richie’d had the foresight to buy the aloe for electrical burns (both of the technological and Static variety.)

After the thorough rub down, Virgil reached back toward the table and grabbed the roll of bandages he’d knocked around before. He waited for Richie to finish shaking his hand to dry the lotion and began wrapping it loosely and delicately. Once carefully wrapped, Virgil tore off the end and taped it in place, placing the roll back on the table and doing a final inspection of Richie’s hand.

“Am I gonna make it?” Richie joked.

“Maybe,” Virgil mumbled, bringing Richie’s hand to his lips and tenderly kissing the back of it.

Richie’s face flushed immediately and he looked away from Virgil, embarrassed at his bright red face and dopey grin he couldn’t quite control. Virgil gave his hand another kiss and Richie squeaked.

“Dude.”

Virgil smiled mischievously and gave Richie’s hand another kiss before releasing it. Richie took his hand out of Virgil’s range and rubbed at it affectionately, still trying to wipe the stupid grin off his face. Virgil gave Richie’s cherry tomato face a once over before gasping loudly. Richie snapped his head toward him at the sound.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Virgil brought his hands up and cradled Richie’s face in between them. “You didn’t tell me Hotstreak got your face too! Here, lemme make it better.” He then pulled Richie’s face toward his, peppering kisses on Richie’s reddened cheeks, making them even redder. It’s a wonder how Richie didn’t pass out with all the blood rushing to head.

“Virg!” Richie giggled as Virgil went back and forth between cheeks, leaving no bit of skin unsmooched. Richie pushed Virgil back slightly amidst the laughing from them both, wrapping his arms around Virgil’s neck and leaning in to press their foreheads together. “I think,” Richie said in between laughs, “I’ll be alright, V.”

“I dunno, Rich,” Virgil began, trying to hold back his own laughter, “your lips are looking a little pink. Hotstreak might’ve gotten you there too.”

“Hmm, you may be right about that, dude. Guess you should kiss ‘em and make ‘em better. Just in case.”

“Well, I mean, if you think it’s necessary…”

“Oh, yes,” Richie said seriously, “very necessary.”

Virgil and Richie leaned in at the same, lips pressing softly against each other, noses pressing less softly against each other. The kiss broke quickly as the two couldn’t keep their laughter in anymore.

“Man, you are such a goof.” Richie wiped at his eyes, trying to catch his breath.

“Yeah, but I’m your goof, you goof,” Virgil responded with a grin, giving Richie another quick kiss as he took Richie’s bandaged hand in his.

#luke writes #under 1k words #static shock #slash #virgil x richie #virichie #gearshock #(<- superior ship name btw)#virgil hawkins #richie foley #hotstreak mention #fluff #established relationship #first degree burns #aloe vera usage #some serious kissies going down here

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foxydivaxx · 6 months

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Idol Sanji headcanons part 2

- He has multiple personas which you can see in his songs:

Mr Prince (yes that Mr Prince): His default persona. His pop star persona who is sweet but also dangerous and sexy in a cold calculated manner

King Nasty: his inner slut. This is the persona most people are familiar with

Brooklyn Rage: This is his inner gangster. Like if he is in this mode, bitch run

- He has the foulest mouth of the Strawhats. He is rapper no surprises

- He enjoys being a bratty sub which makes Zoro’s work even harder

- He has a lot of sex toys hidden in his room

- He has a lot of cars

- He shakes his ass a lot xD

- Zoro is more than his baby daddy and lover. He is his best friend

- He is worse than Nami in regards to the love of money. Yeah he loves the cash

- He was once a stripper during his younger years and did that to hustle for money

- He deep down does not value himself

- He often masturbates to videos and photos of Zoro

- He always does the more sluttier photoshoots

- He started smoking at the age 12 as a coping mechanism

- He loves clubbing

- According to Lelouch, Sanji had the highest grades of all the trainees under their label years ago and he was the most popular trainee at the time

- He is the member of Aogiri with the most collaborations for obvious reasons

- He suffered from an eating disorder that would later rebound during his idol years

- He used to hate his looks and body and wondered why anyone would want him. Still struggles with that today

- He and his dad both released albums on the same day. He ended up outselling the old man which greatly angered Judge

- He does not use the Vinsmoke name. Instead he uses his mother’s maiden name as his surname

-He sees Luffy and Chopper as his little brothers

-All those moans and orgasms he does in his songs? Those are not fake according to him. According to him, he masturbates in the studio to create those sounds

-He is an ATL dude due to spending most of his time growing up there even though he was born in New York but moved down to ATL with Zeff with his siblings

-His mother got shot by his dad when he was 3 years old. He rapped about this, literally destroying his dad and exposing the truth about the old man and destroying his reputation and ending Judge's career. A lot of people mock Judge, saying that his son is more gangster than he is. Judge has tried to hurt Sanji but his plans always backfire

- His mother was a pop star and was in a famous girl group before launching a successful musical career. So Sanji inherited all his talent from his parents but he got his mother’s looks, kindness and charisma

-He has been a victim of domestic and sexual abuse, first at the hands of his dad and later a lot of his exes

-Jojo's villain club are huge fans of his

-In fact every single villain you could think of love this guy to the point where many consider his songs "The Ultimate Villain Playbook." since he tends to play a villainous role in his songs since the character he seems to exude is a sexy evil Homme fatale

-As far as he is concerned, he is an all round entertainer. All that matters is that everyone has fun

-He was and still is the main moneymaker and breadwinner for the family for years because Ichiji unfortunately got shot but survived whilst selling newspapers on the streets

-The biggest scandal involving Sanji was an old sex tape of his from his stripper days resurfacing online. Pudding leaked it thanks to Judge but the plan backfired as that sextape made him even more popular than ever as it helped cement Sanji's sex symbol status

-He has the video with the highest amount of views on YouTube thanks to said sex tape scandal (Might as well add this to my fanfic)

- Don’t even dare try to sabotage him and his friends. He will destroy you

- There was one part in one of his songs that more or less defines him as a person:

Sticks and stones may break my bones,

But I am no lazybones,

Motherfucker left me for dead,

Yet I still stand,

You asked me why I do this shit?

This life goes way beyond making hits,

Started off as a poor weakling,

These days I answer to the name King

- He has a tattoo on his back close to his ass and has one on his ankle

- Sanji’s character’s stance towards women and feeding others is a reflection of real life Sanji’s past. The guy has been a victim of abuse for years and also his character’s interactions with women in the show is as a result of the things women like Pudding had done to him in the past

- He loves leather especially leather catsuits and wears those a lot

- During his Aogiri days, Sanji was not Sanji without his famous round shaped glasses. So many young idols would later emulate the style for years to come. Also his signature leather catsuits have made apperances in a variety of videos ever since

-He looks just like his mother

#Sanji #one piece #zosan

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lexosaurus · 1 year

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The Truth to Light

This was supposed to be a drabble. Day one of Side Hoes Week 2023 featuring Tucker and the prompt "power up!"

Characters: Tucker, the news Words: 1458 Warnings: descriptions of dissecc

[ao3]

****

Tucker powered up his desktop. Anticipation permeated the air, buzzing around the light and bouncing off the walls. Underneath it stank of stress, and below that, rotting deep in the recess of Tucker’s mind was a hint of dread.

Today was the day.

Today would bring the truth to light.

He could have run the program yesterday, or even the day before. But something stopped him. Insecurity prickled his brain, worming its way up his spine and whispering flavors of, “It will never work…you’ll get caught…you’re not good enough at hacking…you’re not that smart…” in his ear.

But no, he was done. He couldn’t let this go on any longer—not if he had the power to stop it.

And so, today was the day.

He entered his password, then watched as his profile loaded in. Each increase of the bar brought a rise in tension, and he could have sworn his fingers were trembling as he booted up the virtual machine.

There was no more running. Not from this.

Danny needed him.

Amity Park needed him.

Hell, the world needed him.

Even if no one would ever find out who did it.

He clicked on Tor, went to his normal site, opened the chat log, and typed two words in:

>geeksquad: I’m ready.

>cr0mb: You sure?

>Petabyte: Hell yeah, dude.

>geeksquad: Yeah. It’s time.

****

The video was fuzzy, the frames were clunky. But even so, no amount of low-resolution could mask the horrors on the screen.

Ectoplasm on the floor, the walls. The metal table. The tubes, needles (ugh), metal instruments. The screams, shaky breathing, choked sobs. The deep voice, sadistic chuckles, flat, bored tones.

The image of his best friend on the screen, grasping onto his chest, ectoplasm seeping through his fingers.

Traumatizing, Tucker realized, wrapping his hands around his perched knees. Watching this, knowing that this was real, was traumatizing.

And yet, this wasn’t a memory he would be able to unpack in therapy later. Because all this evidence of Tucker’s involvement lived on a hard drive that no one would ever find. No one could ever know.

Not even Sam.

He cut this portion from its tape, dragging the new selection down onto the end of the dozens of other clips just like it. Tucker was going to release the videos in their entirety, of course, but there were weeks worth of content. The likelihood that the average person would even have the disk space to download that amount of content was laughable.

And so, a highlights reel was necessary, and Tucker had to be the one to do it. Which meant he had to sit here alone watching hours of his best friend being tortured. He had to sit here alone and choose the “best” moments to showcase. He had to sit here alone and edit the next viral video together.

And he would do it because Danny would die without it.

How’s that for a ride-or-die friendship, huh?

Danny, you owe me, dude, he tried to joke in his head, but even that tasted sour to him.

He shook the creeping fog from his mind and sat back up straight, put his hand back on his mouse, and got back to work.

****

“We would like to warn you that our next segment contains imagery that is extremely graphic and may be upsetting to some viewers.

“Earlier today, a data breach on the US federal government revealed leaked video footage showcasing details within the Ghost Investigation Ward. The video footage, initially uploaded to Tor under the username Geeksquad, showed graphic treatment and experiments involving Amity Park’s local ghostly hero, Danny Phantom, who disappeared two months ago. Since then, it has been reuploaded all over the internet, sending the world into a frenzy. The video footage revealed insight into the hero who was shown to morph between his popular ghostly appearance, and that of a human, teenage boy as shown here. The teenage boy has been identified as sixteen-year-old Daniel Fenton, child of the famous ghost hunter family, who has been reported missing for the last two months. His family claims they did not know that their child was a ghost, and also expressed doubt that Phantom and their son were connected, suggesting that it may be an attempt for Phantom to gain sympathy from the agents.

“We will keep you updated as more information arrives regarding this story.”

****

“Breaking news on the details of the leaked Phantom files from the Ghost Investigation Ward. Close friends to Daniel Fenton, the human child that Phantom morphs into numerous times throughout the videos, came out stating that Daniel Fenton and Danny Phantom are, in fact, one and the same. The teenagers told reporters from APC News that Daniel had been in a lab accident in his parents' laboratory two years ago, and that they witnessed the event. They claim that ever since the accident, Daniel had been able to morph appearances between his ghostly and human persona. The teenagers also claim that the accident both killed him and brought him back to life, and as such Daniel still has a heartbeat and a pulse.

“If this information is true, that could mean severe issues for the Ghost Investigation Ward. Already, protests have broken out in Washington DC as well as Amity Park, Illinois. APC News here with more details to come.”

****

“As more unfolds about the leaked files from the federal Ghost Investigation Ward, more questions regarding experimentation ethics and the blurred laws between humans and ecto-entities are coming to light.

“APC News was able to interview an anonymous source from within the Ghost Investigation Ward earlier today, who claims that the agents within the GIW did know that Daniel Fenton Phantom had a heartbeat and a pulse.

“‘A heartbeat and a pulse…you know what the implication of this means, correct?’

“‘We all did. And not only that, but we also knew that if his heartbeat stops, then he would die.’

“‘Die. That’s an interesting choice of words.’

“‘It is, isn’t it?’

“The director for the FBI put out a statement saying that while the GIW has been sanctioned to perform experiments to further the knowledge and understanding of ecto-entities, also known as ghosts, they are not authorized to operate outside of the law and perform experiments on US Citizens.

“The director of the GIW, under the code name Agent Alpha, also put out a statement citing that Danny Phantom registers as a level seven ecto-entity and does not qualify as a human, despite the appearance of human organs that seem like life-support. He stated that like other ghosts, Phantom relies on an ecto-core to exist and that his human organs are merely imprints of when he was alive. He reiterates that the Ghost Investigation Ward did not operate outside of the law while Phantom was under their custody.

“Phantom has been relocated to a holding cell while internal investigation and legal proceedings occur.”

****

“Tucker…” Sam’s tilted her head. Dark circles tattooed the skin under her eyes, and her chapped lips pressed into a thin line. She’d lost weight, and her cheeks were hollow, sharp. And yet, that hint of a spark in her eye, that silent flame of determination, had yet to go out.

Although, for as run-down as Sam was, Tucker was sure he looked about the same.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Do you know who the hacker was?”

Tucker was lucky he was such a practiced liar. But even still, he was sure that not even he could mask how thrown off he was at that question. “How would I know who he was?”

“I know you hang around those circles.”

“Yeah, but it’s all anonymous. I don’t know who anyone is. And besides.” He leaned back in some faux attempt of acting nonchalant. “There are so many hacking groups out there, Sam. It’s not that small or tight-knit of a community.”

“Yeah, I figured,” she said, though her eyes didn’t relax. “I just found it odd, you know?”

He could feel his heart skip a beat. “What’s odd?”

“Well, I found it odd that the GIW was targeted when they had Phantom. And no one else knew that Phantom was there except for us.”

“Or, maybe other people figured it out.”

“Maybe…”

“Come on, it’s not that implausible. Danny disappeared for two months. That’s not really his MO. I’m sure some gray-hat group online did the process of elimination on where he could be and figured out he was with the Guys in White.”

“Yeah.” Sam’s gaze went to her knees, where her hands were clasped. Tucker followed her sight and realized that her fingers were shaking.

He let his tone turn more serious. “Sorry, I don’t know who leaked the files. I promise.”

“Okay,” she said, her voice small. “I believe you.”

****

chapter 2

#danny phantom #dp side hoes week 2023 #phicc #my writing #posting this with the speed of light cuz i godda bounce lol

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