Tumgik
#i really wanted to have Keith trying to get back into talking to his friends
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Finally Together
When Jerry called, I could immediately tell something was very wrong. He was holding an ice pack up to his face and looked deranged overall.
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"Jerry? What the hell happened to you?"
"Oh, hey. Yeah. This." he pointed at his face. "That's a long story."
"Let me see!" I demanded. You see, Jerry was, most definitely, my bff - my very best, very gay friend. And he had a talent for getting into trouble, sadly.
He slowly lowered the ice pack and I gasped. His right eye was swollen shut, and his face was covered in bruises.
"How..."
"Well, there was this guy. He was kinda hot, and totally my type, but, you know, straight as an arrow. At least *now* I know that." Even despite his bruises, Jerry raised his eyebrows in the cutest way possible - one of the traits I admired about them.
Yes, I should mention, I kiiiind of had a tiny little crush on Jerry. Or perhaps a gigantic one. You always want the ones you can't have, right? In my case, I was a woman - which was enough to disqualify myself rather finally.
"...and? Did he hit you?" I asked, even though I already suspected the answer.
"Yeah. I was just talking to him, trying to subtly find out his orientation. You know how it goes. Apparently, I wasn't too subtle about it, though, and he kind of escalated all over my face. It's no big deal, now I know."
Jerry smiled, but I could clearly see that it caused him pain to do so. It nearly broke my heart.
"It is a big deal." I answered. "That's horrible. You are worth so much more than this. Where did it happen? Did you call the police?"
"It was in the gym. Keith - that's the guy - works there, so, I guess, I need a new gym." Jerry joked. "And no, I didn't call the police, it's just... it's alright, okay Mathilda?"
I was not convinced but decided to let it go. Jerry was just a so sweet and innocent guy, he wouldn't even cause someone trouble if that someone punched in his face. I, on the other hand, was fuming. That was not a way to treat my bff! I would have really liked to kick that Keith's ass right now.
I chatted a bit more with Jerry before he had to go and promised him to come over that evening.
To be quite honest, I didn't plan to do anything, but when I was walking to Jerry's apartment in the afternoon, I passed his gym. I didn't even know it was on the way, because I honestly never paid attention to it much. But now that I saw it on the way, I couldn't help it. I would go in there and just tell the manager that one of their employees was a homophobic asshole. Just a little push in the right direction.
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I entered the gym. It looked quite standard, but I couldn't see any manager or anyone else to talk to, for that matter, so I just went in there. It was quite empty, which was not surprising at this time of the day. There was, however, a young, muscular man doing push-ups. It was quite disgusting, actually, with all the sweat dripping down his body and a musky, penetrant smell was filling the room.
He stood up and greeted me.
"Hi, there. You're not a member, are you?"
"I'm not." I said. I felt like adding a "sorry" or something but decided against it. Instead, I clutched my handbag tighter.
"So, what can I do for you, ma'am?" He had that smug grin of an urge driven man who seemed to undress me with his gaze. I shuddered in disgust, but still, I straightened my back.
"Well, actually, I'm here to make a complaint."
"A complaint? About what?"
"Your staff."
"Oh? Do you have an issue with someone working here?"
"Well, yes. I just learned that one of your trainers, Keith was the name, I think, assaulted a customer. That is a terrible way to treat people, and I will not stand for it."
The guy laughed and flashed me a superior grin while he nonchalantly readjusted his groin. Free balling of course. Ugh. Can you spell 'toxic masculinity'?
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"Look, honey. Whoever told you that, they lied to you. Keith would never hit a girl, especially not a pretty one."
I felt my face reddening from anger.
"First off, I'm not your honey, and secondly, it wasn't a girl but a guy."
The guy raised his eyebrows. "Really? A guy, huh?"
"Yes. He is my very good friend, and it's not funny at all."
"Hmm. Yeah, I think I remember the guy, some fruity fag who needed to be told a lesson."
Then it dawned on me. The disgusting guy in front of me was the man that had hurt Jerry.
"You're the one who did it! How dare you!" I exclaimed and tried to slap his face.
Before I could land a hit, though, he grabbed my wrist with an iron grip and grinned like a predator.
"Ah, ah. I wouldn't try that, if I were you. Would be a shame, if something were to happen to your pretty face, too."
I withdrew my hand and trembled from disgust.
"Ugh. You're just such a disgusting... jock."
In hindsight, I had no idea what happened, but perhaps some benevolent spirit or sprite was listening. In any case, Keith all of a sudden got a really strange expression on his face and looked really pale for a moment. And then... he suddenly looked even paler, like white paper or cloth. I will never be able to forget the expression of surprise on his face, as his body kind of... collapsed in on himself. His muscular torso diminished, and his arms and legs twisted and fused into thin rubber strips. But his face... His face contorted into a white fabric pouch that was completely devoid of any features within seconds. It had only taken a few moments, but Keith had disappeared.
I looked around first, but nobody else was in the gym right now. I carefully stepped closer and inspected what was left of Keith. Inside his black, damp gym shorts that was lying on the ground, I could see a pair of men's underwear, I believe it was called a jockstrap: A large fabric pouch held by rubber bands - designed to just cover the genitals, although, judging by the size of the pouch, rather large genitals. Now, as Keith had demonstrated quite clearly just a few moments ago, he had certainly not be wearing any underwear - and I had seen what had happened to his face.
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With pointed fingers, careful not to touch the damp gym shorts and almost gagging from the strong smell, I picked up the piece of underwear. I had almost thrown it away again, when I noticed that it, too, was covered in sweat and stink. However, the piece of underwear that had once been a man held a strange fascination to me. I lifted it up to my face, to have a closer look, but didn't consider the consequences. When I breathed in, my nose was filled with the overwhelmingly strong and manly smell of sweaty, unwashed genitals, and it triggered something inside of me. All of a sudden, I felt tingly all over and groaned. My body felt weird all of a sudden. It was like that disgusting smell was all around me, enveloping me, pushing me to... change, somehow.
In horror, I felt my feet swelling up in my shoes. It wasn't painful, but it felt like I had been wearing boots that were way too small. The pressure was quickly getting unbearable and painful until my canvas shoes and thin socks couldn't take it anymore. First on the left and then, shortly after, on the right side, the toes of massive feet burst out from the footwear. The pressure subsided, and it felt fine again.
The changes didn't stop, though. Now that my feet had broken free from their restraints, my legs were the next to follow. A ripping sound heralded the death of my tights, as my legs gained mass and muscles. It looked almost comically how the threads of my tights were ripped apart, strand for strand. At the same time, I watched, as my hands grew larger. Gone were my delicate fingers, replaced by thick sausage-like appendages. Those new finger weren't carefully manicured but instead, I was now sporting short, ugly nails that would have been fitting for a lumberjack, rather than a girl.
While my legs were still growing, and I was getting visibly taller, my arms were next to follow. My blouse didn't even stand a chance as the arms did not only grew longer but most importantly, stronger. My biceps swelled like I visited the gym every day and, to my horror, I saw a tattoo forming on my right arm that reminded me a lot of the one Keith had had. I didn't have much time to think about it, though, as a new force practically ripped my blouse apart: My torso was pushing outward in all directions. My shoulders widened considerably, and my bra snapped from the strain. At first, I thought my boobs were growing, but it was quite the opposite. They were receding into my body, being replaced by even more massive and decidedly male pecs. Below them, a ripple went through my stomach, leaving behind the cobblestone road of abs.
The changes had met up at my midsection now and I was afraid of what was going to happen next. Sure enough, my skin-tight summer trousers bulged forward as something pressed against them from the inside.
"No..." I groaned, with a lower voice than I was used to, and tried to push whatever was appearing back into my midsection, but it was no use. With another ripping sound, a penis emerged from between my legs, quickly followed by a pair of testicles that pushed the ruined trousers down and settled in between my tree trunk-like thighs.
My head started swimming. That was wrong, that was so wrong. But the changes just went on. An Adam's apple formed in my throat, further lowering my voice, and my face reformed. It became squarer, and my jawbones became more pronounced. At the same time, my beautiful long hair receded into a short masculine cut. However, as hair disappeared on top of my head, it grew elsewhere. Or, should I say everywhere. Disgusting, wiry body hair grew in on my arms and legs and even on top of my enormous feet and the back of my hands. My chest was coated by a layer of short and coarse hair, and a treasure trail led down my midsection, where it disappeared into a thick pubic bush.
Speaking of bushes, two more formed in the large area of my armpits. Ugh. I was hairy like a fucking monkey. The only well-groomed bit of body hair was on my face, in the short beard that I could see in the gym mirror.
I could hardly believe my eyes. Staring back at me from the reflection was no one else but Keith. *I* was a splitting image of Keith now, only naked aside from the tatters of my clothes. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a low grunt.
Okay, Mathilda, no reason for panic, I told myself. I would just... Go see a doctor. Yes. There had to be an explanation. This could be treated.
I took a step towards the exit and stumbled over the remains of my coughing. Oh, right, I was still naked.
The only piece of clothing was Keith's gym shorts. Well, his gym shorts and Keith himself, who was a piece of underwear now. I looked between the shorts and the underwear. On the one hand, I really didn't want to wear what had just been Keith, but on the other hand... I certainly wasn't going without any underwear. Everyone would be able to see the outline of my current genitals. Yuck.
So, lacking other options, I pulled on the white piece of underwear. It was, unsurprisingly, very sweaty, and it clung to my junk. I grimaced, but it was better than the alternative. My ass was still largely uncovered, but that was not as bad as the front side. I had to admit that my new equipment filled out the pouch pretty well.
I quickly shook my head and pulled on the gym shorts as well. It felt weird not to cover my chest, but that was probably acceptable in my current state.
Perhaps I could ask Jerry if I could borrow some men's clothing from him.
Oh my, Jerry. He was probably waiting for me. I grabbed my handbag and fled the gym.
Walking felt weird. Of course, regardless of my looks, I was still a woman, so I took small steps and refused to spread my legs too much while walking. It was very awkward. The sun was shining down and although it wasn't all *that* hot, I found myself starting to sweat. How disgusting was that? It was like those stupid mountains of muscle were producing so much heat that my skin was soon glistening with sweat and my armpits started to smell. I tested it by lifting an arm and taking a whiff. Ugh. I needed a shower, badly. I probably would be able to use Jerry's.
Jerry... I saw his face right in front of me in my mind. The cute smile, the adorable brown eyes, the cute little dimples on his cheeks when he grinned.
A strange feeling came over me from my groin area. What was going on down there? When I looked down, the ample bulge of my cock had become even bigger, probably tenting out the pouch that had been Keith's face. I groaned. Men were so primitive. All it took was one sexy thought and bam, erection.
Still, I couldn't deny that it felt pretty good. I checked it anyone on the street was looking before I felt the outline of the cock through the layers of clothing with my big hand. The touch made me moan, and I felt my member throb.
That's when I experienced the weirdest feeling. As the sweat from my groin mixed with the fluids seeping out of the cock head and were absorbed by the jockstrap, all of a sudden, I felt the presence of Keith - the real Keith. It was like a strong mental attack, to get his body back, but I fought back. It was not *his* body, it was mine, even though it may have looked like Keith right now.
It was the strangest experience. I could practically *feel* his thoughts and emotions. The humiliation from being wrapped around, well, *my* cock and balls, I could even taste and smell an echo of what he was tasting and smelling, including the weird taste of precum that had mixed into the face-pouch recently.
It wasn't easy, but I repelled Keith's mind and kind of stuffed it back into the underwear. When I continued my walk, I didn't even notice that I know walked like a man: With long, powerful strides and enough room for my balls.
Luckily, my cock had calmed down a bit by now, and I ran the rest of the way, just to make sure. I was glistening with more sweat when I finally arrived at Jerry's apartment and rang the bell. Ugh. That musk was so bad, I just hoped I could hop under the shower right away.
However, when Jerry opened the door, we were both stunned for a moment. I because Jerry looked even better in reality than when I imagined him. Foreign hormones flooded my system, coming from my balls and I just stood there for a moment. Of course, I had a crush on Jerry before, but right now, in this moment, I realized for the first time that now, Jerry wasn't quite as unreachable as before.
Jerry, on the other hand, backed away, an expression of fear on his face.
"Keith, what... Is this some kind of joke?"
I was taken aback by his reaction.
"No! It's not... It's me, Mathilda!"
"Who?"
"Mathilda, your best friend."
Jerry stared at me, confusion on his face.
"What are you talking about Keith? Wasn't it enough for you to bash my face in? Do you want to humiliate me now?"
"No, please. Listen, Jerry, you're my friend, and I would never hurt you."
He scoffed. "Oh really? My black eye says otherwise."
I could feel myself getting upset from all the testosterone and took a deep breath.
"I can explain. Please, Jerry, hear me out."
He looked at me skeptically.
"Fine. I'll listen."
With that, he let me into his apartment.
"Okay, first of all, can I take off these gym shorts? They are really really disgusting and sweaty, and they are clinging to my legs. Yuck!"
"Uh, oookay." Jerry looked even more confused but allowed it.
Gladly, I got rid of the stinking shorts and threw them at the ground, far away from me. Jerry frowned but was apparently more captured by my now only jockstrap-clad body that I sat down on his couch. I admit I wanted to get rid of the jockstrap, too, but then I would have been completely naked in my friend's living room.
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The thought was oddly exciting, and I felt my cock raise in reaction.
I just hoped that Jerry wouldn't notice my state of arousal, even though there wasn't much fabric left to hide it, but I quickly spoke.
"So, Jerry, it's really me. Remember the time when we watched Star Trek: Voyager and had a pillow fight, and you beat me easily, even though I am taller and stronger?"
"How would you know about that, Keith?" Jerry crossed his arms. He had obviously noticed my midsection problem, which was throbbing now, leading to another wet spot on the piece of underwear.
"I'm telling you, I am Ma..."
Suddenly, I grabbed my head. There it was again. Keith had reacted to my arousal and was fighting for control of *my* body again. It was weaker this time, though, and although it took me a few moments, I pushed him back between my legs, where he belonged.
Finally, I spread my legs, man-spreading without even thinking about it and giving the whole world in general and Jerry in particular a good view of my massive groin. A smirk formed on my face. Having such a big cock was something to be proud of.
"...Mathilda." I finished my sentence, although I found the name rather unfitting for a stud like me. "I just kind of... transformed into Keith's body, but it's still the same old man as always. Woman, I mean."
"Uh... what?"
I smiled and stood up, slowly, so he could see all the muscles I had gained. I was taller, too, taller than Jerry even.
"But tell me, do you like what you see?" My cock was throbbing like mad now. God, I needed to have this man!
"Uuuh... uhm... yes? Yes."
I chuckled. "Well, Jerry. I don't know how to get back to my original body yet, but do you want to... touch this one?" I gently took his hand and placed it on my chest.
Jerry didn't react at first, but then he started caressing my chest. It felt great, and he moaned, too.
Another small spurt of precum spilled into my underwear and again, Keith acted up. It was even weaker this time, and I had no trouble staying in control. I did notice something else though. Apparently, Keith was enjoying this a lot, way more than a straight man should. He was almost addicted to my cock fluids by now, and he mentally lapped at my organ submissively. And he exhibited a longing for Jerry that appeared to be too deep-rooted to have developed recently. Well, good for him, because as my jockstrap, he would have a front row seat in what happened next.
"Mathilda, is it really... okay?" Jerry asked, barely being able to restrain himself.
"Yes Jerry." I said while looking into his eyes. "It's more than okay. It's perfect. And it's Matthew from now on, okay?"
I took a deep breath, breathing in my wonderful musky smell, and I watched Jerry do the same. And when I kissed him, I couldn't wait to tear his clothes off and plow his cute little ass with my mighty cock while my lucky jockstrap was watching.
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tartarusknight · 5 months
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I want more platonic stobin and bisexualy disaster Steve and gay disaster Eddie in my life. So I wrote some :)
Steve wanted to scream as he tried the handle again. "Steve. Steve!" Robin pulled him away from the door. "They aren't opening the door, and you're just gonna break the handle. Keith already hates your guts. Don't make it worse." She pointed out, weirdly calm about all of this. "Plus, it's not like we don't share space normally." She says and sinks down to the floor, tugging him down with her.
Steve looked at the door, "Why can't they accept that we're only ever going to be platonic?" He asks and runs a ran through his hair. He was sick of this. Of the comments and the teasing. It stresses him out.
They kept pushing the two of them together, and Steve was worried that it could mess up what friendship he had with Robin. Because Steve's used to messing up and hurting someone, and he really doesn't want to hurt Robin. He has nightmares of outing her by accident and ruining her life. It terrifies him.
"Steve, come on, it's okay. It's just a stupid bathroom. We've shared a bathroom stall. This is bigger than that." She jokes, and he pulls his knees up to his chest.
"I can't do this, Rob." He admits and watches her freeze. Her walls climbed up like he said something really stupid. "I'm sorry, but I'm just-"
She cuts him off, "I get it. You don't want to deal with the backlash of being a lesbian's friend." She says, and he blinks.
"What? No! I don't want to say the wrong thing. I get bitchy when I'm annoyed and I'm easily annoyed when I'm stressed. And I'm stressed! So I don't - I can't be the one to out you. I can't mess that up for you." He says, and it's nice to finally admit his fears.
Robin blinks at him, "That's what- Steve, that's what bothers you about all this?"
Steve nods, "I mess up everything I touch. I can't do that to you, I won't do that to you. Honestly, you should probably find better friends. One who thinks with his brai-"
"Shut up." Robin snaps, and he stops speaking. Looking at her with wide eyes. "You can't talk about my best friend that way. I won't let you," She states.
"You're best friend?"
Her eyes soften, "yeah dingus. Who else would be my best friend? We're soulmates," She decides, and he's confused because she sounds like she means it. "Platonic, with a capital p, soulmates."
He swallows back a ball of emotion, "even if all the kids I babysit-"
"Mother."
"Babysit," he stresses, and she smiles. "Try to get us together at every opportunity and won't believe that we aren't in love. Or that I'm in love with you at the least. I think you're better off because you call me dingus more than my name," he mused.
Robin sighed, "I won't say that it's not annoying. But I'm used to dodging questions about boys, and this way... with you, I have someone to be myself with. That's more important to me than some stupid preteens who think locking us in a bathroom would get us together."
Steve smiles, "last time we shared a bathroom did go pretty well, honestly." She knocked her knee into his. He glanced over at the door. "Do you think they'll give up?"
Robin snorts, "Dustin's more invested in your love life than you are. I don't think he'll give up unless you're dating someone else or the truth comes out."
Steve sighed, chewing his lower lip until something clicked in his head. "What If I come out?"
Robin blinked, "you- what?"
Steve nodded, "I mean I like both but I could just say I favor guys." He shrugs, "it's not like they could disprove it since it's mostly true."
Robin stared at him, "Steve... since when did you- what? Steve oh my god," She shifted onto her knees and slammed into him. "Since fucking when! Why didn't you ever tell me!"
Steve raised an eyebrow, "what do you mean since when? I literally point out hot guys all the time! When we watched watched Rocky Horror, I said Tim Curry was sexy!"
She shook his shoulders, "you did no such thing! You ask if I also think a guy is hot and you said- oh." It clicks for her and she falls back on her ass. She covers her face, "holy shit."
Steve smirks, "holy shit."
A giggle escapes her lips, "you so have a type."
"Shut up," he groans.
But before they can really dig into it, there's a loud knock on the door. "We're gonna open the door in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!" The door swings in a Dustin's hand is over his eyes like he's gonna be scarred at the sight of them.
"We're literally just sitting on the floor Henderson. Not having freaky bathroom sex," Steve rolls his eyes and stands, Robin following suit.
Dustin looks upset like he expect his plan to work. "I don't get it." Steve ruffles his hair as he passes the kid. Robin lets out a small laugh as she stretches her limbs like she had been stuck in there for more than just 15 minutes. Steve turns, and she locks eyes with him, a silent question.
"Kid, I've said this a million times, but I'll say it one more time." He glances at the other kids that had either always been there or gotten here at some point since he'd been locked into the bathroom. "Robin and I will never date. She and I have no romantic feelings for each other. And if you pull this shit when we're at work again, I'll kill you."
"It's not like it was hard to figure out how to check someone out," Max shrugged and Steve huffed at her nonchalant grin from behind the counter.
Steve ushers the kids out from behind the counter before taking his normal spot, looking around at the empty store. Robin moves and bumps shoulders with him. "Platonic feelings only." She gestures between them.
Dustin groan, "I just don't get why!"
Steve glances at Robin, "because I'm too gay for her." He states and everyone goes quiet. "Honestly boobies are so high school." He winks at Robin who looks at him like he's bravely stupid.
"Wait but you dated Nancy?" Mike questioned arms over his chest.
Steve rolled his eyes, "so? I am more picky on who I date. Doesn't matter the gender. Robin doesn't tick my boxes."
"But she should!" Dustin complains and Robin groans.
But then Steve sees someone in the windows, heading towards the doors to Family video. "My type is more," and he just gestures just as the door dings to call their attention to the newcomer.
Eddie Munson glances at the kids and then at Steve. "Sheepies," he says. Eyebrows raised in confusion at the eyes on him. Eddie glanced at Steve, "Harrington, you break the kids?" He asks as all the kids continue to stare at him as he moves to the horror section.
Steve waves his hand, like he can brush off the confusion. "Nah, they're just shocked that I'm not completely in love with Birdie over here."
Everyone's jaw is on the floor as Steve leans his arms on the counter, not even bothering to hide the way he checks Eddie out when the man looks away. "Right," Eddie sighs and grabs a movie. "Well, not everyone's type is jocks." Eddie teases slightly, having warmed up to Steve little by little when Steve picks the kids up from Hellfire.
Steve takes the movie from Eddie, giving him his one free movie he gets for the week and hands it back to Eddie without charging him. "I'll win ya over." He winks, and Eddie's eyes go a little wide.
Eyes glanced around like he could ask if anyone else saw that. "Um, well, yeah, how-how much for the-"
"Consider it on me." Steve waved his hand and then leaned more into Eddie's space, "I haven't seen this one yet."
Eddie swallows, "You should check it out. It's, uh, pretty good."
Steve smiles, "I'm shit with horror, maybe if I had someone to hold my hand through it." He sighs overdramatically, then snaps, "Oh, I know! If you're not busy we could watch it together. I mean, it seems like a scary metalhead like yourself would be capable of holding my hand through the jump scares."
Eddie's eyes are blinking rapidly, "it's for the boys." He says, looking lost. Steve frowns, and Eddie jumps into action, "But I could-" He stops himself and groans. "I've got to- plans- fuck-" He stumbles and practically smacks into the door in his rush to leave family video.
Steve sighs and leans his head down on the counter. Robin pats his back, "I miss my whiteboard." She sighs and he looks up to glare at her.
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l0vergirlwrites · 4 days
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gulity as sin ; eddie munson
synopsis: since eddie joined your friend group, you’ve fallen for him. but sometimes the feelings you’ve harboured for him make you feel guilty—but he’s just too dreamy, so how could anyone blame you?
warnings: sexual innuendos, mentions of weed & alcohol & partying, mentions of sexual thoughts, downbad!reader & eddie, love confession & makeout!!!!
note: i just had to get this out of my system but i’ll write my next ttpd fic based on the winning things on the polls don’t worry!!
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“just so you know, you’re staring at eddie like you wanna fuck him” robin whispered in your ear as she came to your side with extra vcr tapes to stack near the back of the store.
“jesus! am i really?” you asked in a hushed whisper, face crowing warm with embarrassment. you couldn’t help it when eddie just looked so good as he leaned on the front counter talking to steve.
while you mentally face palmed yourself, robin gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “just a little bit”
peeking back over her shoulder at eddie to make sure he wasn’t looking at you (because you’re anxious & paranoid), you let out a breath of relief. “you think he noticed?”
she laughed “i hope not”
letting out a quiet gasp, you shoved robin’s shoulder “thanks for the vote of confidence, rob” you said sarcastically.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!—but seriously…” she paused for moment to create dramatic effect. “when are you gonna fess up & tell him how you feel?”
the big question.
with a big sigh, you shook your head in retreat. “probably never. it’s just some stupid crush—& besides, we’re just friends. i don’t know if he’d like me like that, rob.” you said while getting back to work, trying to get the image of eddie’s ring clad hands out of your mind so you could focus.
“is that really how you feel? or is your fear of rejection speaking for you?”
narrowing your eyes at her, you rolled your eyes knowing she was kidding (but was she? were you really hiding behind a guise so you wouldn’t get hurt?).
“you know,” she paused to look at eddie. “if he doesn’t want to jump your bones, i’d be floored” she said cheekily, causing you to nudge her rib cage.
“he doesn’t” you stated, but in your mind you hated the thought of it.
“if that’s what’ll help you sleep at night” she chided before moving onto a different shelf, the open space letting your eyes drift back to eddie, only to find that he was looking right at you.
“you coming to the party by reefer rick’s place on the weekend? i convinced stevie boy here to tag along—“
“—& to be the DD. i don’t know how i got roped into this” steve cut eddie off with an exasperated expression.
with the spotlight (eddie’s eyes) on you, you couldn’t help but feel stuck in place & your mind was running a million miles a minute.
clearing your throat, you nodded. “yeah sure! i should be able to if keith doesn’t make me come in last minute”
the last sentence caused eddie to roll his eyes.
“who cares about what keith says—you’re coming & you’re gonna have fun! you’re deserving of blowing off some steam, right?” eddie said convincingly.
“he’s right! fuck keith & his stupid last minute shift calls“ robin agreed with steve soon following suit.
jokingly with your hands up in surrender, you finally agreed. “maybe you guys are right…”
“of course we are, babe!”
the pet name eddie called you made your stomach flip in six directions, your face growing warm until steve beat you to speak.
“when the hell did ‘babe’ get into your vocabulary, munson?” he asked eddie with a quizzical eye.
“oh calm your tits harrington—“
“hey man, i don’t have tits & i am calm so shut—“
“hey!” you yelled, shutting them both up. “no bickering on my watch, idiots” you pointed to them both, causing eddie to place his right hand in his heart in apology.
“what do you expect,” robin chimed in. “they’re five year olds”
you both laughed a bit at her comment while the guys just rolled their eyes.
“well, i’m gonna head out & prep for my next campaign. butttt, i’ll see you geeks saturday?” he asked while twirling his van keys around his index finger.
before steve could try to rebuttle against eddie about him calling you all “geeks”, you beat him to it.
“yes—we’ll be there! bye eds” you waved sweetly, your hand flattering when eddie shot you a wink before heading out the door.
as the glass door chimed & shut after his departure, you immediately turned to robin.
“he winked at me!” you mouthed to her with excitement.
“are you guys secretly talking without including me, again?”
turning to steve, you gave him an apologetic look. “she was just fawning over how eddie winked at her” robin said with a nonchalant smile, causing you to gasp.
“robin—“
“why do you care if he—wait… ohhh… that makes sense” he lit up like a light bulb, going back to checking through the return log on the computer.
you stood there stumped at his reaction.
“is me liking eddie predictable?” you asked aloud, causing steve & robin to share a glance.
“yes” they said collectively, leaving you to sigh & turn back to the shelf to finish stacking the pile of tapes.
**~*~**~*~*~**~*~~*~**~*~*~~***~*
it was now saturday, & you were on speaker phone with robin as you were getting ready for the party.
you had decided to wear a short flowy black skirt, fishnet tights, your favourite black boots, & a dark green babytee with your favourite band on it. it was simple, but cute (& you secretly hoped eddie would think the tights were a nice touch).
“do you think you’ll tell eddie how you feel once you get some liquid courage in you?” she asked genuinely.
with a thoughtful sigh, you stopped applying blush to your right cheek. “gosh, rob—i don’t know. i don’t think it’s a good idea”.
you could tell she was shaking her head from the other side of the phone.
“remember when i was too afraid to tell vicky i liked her?”
you knew what she was gonna say. “yes, i do”
“so, you remember how you told me i should just ‘go for it! do it before it’s too late—what’s the worst that could happen?’, right?”
you slumped in your desk chair, fidgeting with your makeup brush. “yes…”
“sooo, you gotta practice what you preach—tell him before you regret it!” she encouraged, but still, you were horrified to.
“what if—“
she shushed you. “no what ifs. don’t do that to yourself—just be honest when the right moment comes along”
staying silent for a moment, you thought it over in your head before coming to a conclusion.
“maybe you are right, robin”
“i’m always right—regardless of what steve says” her words made you laugh, relieving you of a little stress.
**~*~*~~~*~***~*~**~**~*~*~~*
it was now nine-thirty on the dot & you could hear steve’s beamer honking from your driveway, signalling that it’s time to go. as soon as you stepped onto your driveway, you were met with hollers & whistles from your friends in the car—including eddie.
as soon as you saw him with his head out the window, whistling & vocally saying “shit y/n, looking good!”, you could’ve sworn you were going to collapse then & there.
shushing them before their hyper annoyed your neighbours, you (coincidentally) got into the backseat with eddie.
“you have everything?” steve asked before reversing the car.
“yes, dad” you joked before a silver flask was shoved into your lap.
“got you your favourite” eddie told you with a smile, causing you to audibly “awe” & thank him before taking a swing from it.
despite steve having a fancy car, the backseat was surprisingly small, so you knew it was going to be a long night with how your thigh is already pressed into eddie’s & his fingers were tapping his jean clad thigh dangerously close to your exposed one.
you caught him every now & then staring at your tights too, which didn’t help the fantasies brewing in your mind of him taking them off you.
“you excited?” you asked him while steve & robin were caught in their own conversation.
swiping his tongue across his teeth, he looked at you with a gaze that made your stomach tighten. “as long as you stick close by, then yeah i’m excited” he nudged you gently, allowing you a moment to process what he just fucking said.
tucking your hair behind your ears (a sign that you were nervous & liked him & were going insane), you let the conversation drift into comfortable silence as steve turned the radio up.
thank god for that.
**~*~~**~**~***~**~*~~**~**~*
the party eddie brought you guys to was packed at some random house on lover’s lake.
& it reeked of pot & beer, which was normal & expected.
with the flask eddie gave you in your right hand & eddie’s hand in your other (because the front lawn was packed & he didn’t want to lose you), your group maneuvered your way inside to disco party lights, sweaty bodies, more pot & more beer.
your grip on eddie’s hand was taut as you continued sliding past more & more people while muttering “excuse me, sorry!” over & over until you guys arrived on the dance floor.
“do you want anything?” eddie leaned down & whispered into your ear so you could hear over the music.
you took a second to answer because of how warm his breath felt against your skin. “no i’m okay, i got this remember?” you said with a smile, holding up the flask he gave you.
returning you a smile, eddie let go of your hand because robin was pulling you to dance a little.
“be back in five!” eddie mouthed to you, holding up five fingers & looking at you until you waved in acknowledgment.
“okay there’s no way he doesn’t want you” robin yelled into your ear as the song changed & people roared happily.
laughing & shaking your head, you disagreed.
“cmon! let’s just dance, yeah? destress!” steve yelled to you both before bopping his head to the music, causing you & robin to look at each other before laughing & join in.
the more songs played & the more you swing back eddie’s flask, you could feel yourself letting loose a little—possibly even making you feel courageous.
so much so that when eddie returned with a red solo cup with some sort of drink, you slung your arm around his middle for a quick hug.
“missed me?” he yelled in your ear.
“just maybe” you replied, feeling his right hand rub your arm up & down before fetching a joint from his pocket.
“missed me more now?” he asked again, laughing when you nodded your head, eyes glassy from the smoke in the room that was building.
“outside?” he yelled again, & you were the only one that agreed.
*~*~*~~*~~*~*~~**~***~*
departing from steve & robin to go smoke, eddie grabbed your hand once again & kept you close as you both made your way to the back porch that outlooked onto the water.
the backyard was still filled with people, especially jocks who were doing dumb keg games, but you didn’t mind. with your back against the siding of the house & eddie in front of you, caging you in, all you saw was him.
& god he looked hot. his hair was a bit frizzy, but his leather jacket managed to showcase his muscular arms & his slightly cropped band tee allowed you to see the happy trail on his abdomen.
it took everything in your power not to fold then & there.
“you want the first hit?” eddie asked as passed you his drink & pulled his lighter out of his pocket.
with a simple nod, you placed the joint between your lipstick covered lips & leaned forward for eddie to light the end of it for you. the action felt extremely intimate & already hand your skin tingling.
with the joint slotted between your fingers, you took a few hits & relished in the buzzed feeling it already gave you. & knowing eddie & is interest in pot, you knew whatever was wrapped within the joint was the good shit.
while you were taking your hits, eddie was reminding himself to not get hard at the thought of your lipstick rubbing off onto the joint or how you looked pretty with smoke exhaling from your mouth—he could feel his pants start to feel the tiniest bit tight at his view of you.
when you handed the joint to him, eddie stood beside you on the wall & took his time (possibly so you could look at him a little longer?).
& you didn’t care because he just looked too perfect with his head tilted up, the veins in his neck showing in the porch light, the joint rested between his ring clad fingers—you could already imagine yourself getting off to this image of him later—but you reminded yourself to stay cool.
everything was fine! you guys were just friends!
“you feeling okay?” eddie asked, turning to you who was already giving him soft doe eyes.
“better than okay” you smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder because you felt too warm under his gaze.
“wanna get off inside?” you heard him ask, causing you to cough & blink for a moment.
“shit—what did you say?” you looked at him, feeling his hand begin to interlock with yours again.
“i asked if you wanna go back inside—you sure you’re good?”
oh god, now you were hearing things.
“y-yeah, good idea” you mumbled as you followed his lead, holding on tight to avoid getting broken apart through the sea of teenagers & college students.
you only broke apart when robin pulled you in for a hug, hearing her say “it felt like you were gone for ages!”
for the rest do the night, you told yourself to he lost in the music rather than thoughts of eddie munson doing nasty things to you, which was going pretty successful until you felt his breath on your neck again.
“wanna dance?”
& how on earth could you say no?!?!
you let him pull you into his arms, his hands firm on your waist while yours were loose around his neck.
with the pot & other alcohol mixing in your system, you felt on top of the world. especially with eddie’s eyes on you. he’d twirl you around in circles & give you room to dance your heart out with him in your grasp & steve & robin would give each other knowing glances about whatever was brewing between you too.
you felt hot, sticky, & tingly all over your skin (not just because eddie was touching you) so you pulled his head down a bit to yell in his ear. “i’m gonna find a washroom!” & he was leading you around the house to find one without a question.
once you both found one of the third floor of this outrageous house, you pulled eddie in with you & turned on the light, thankful there was a dim setting.
“jesus, that was bright!” eddie shielded his eyes, causing you to laugh as you hopped up onto the counter.
exhaling a sigh of relief, you let your head lean back & rest against the mirror while eddie leaned against the closed door.
“do you need me to like, turn around or something…?” he asked, wondering what you were going to do.
“no—i just wanted to go somewhere quieter. less sweaty bodies”
he nodded understandingly before shamefully looking you up & down, telling himself to not get hard at the sight of you so pretty. you were already falling down a rabbit hole of all the things you want to do with him right now, each more dirty than the next—it would be just so easy for him to take off your skirt & unbuckle his pants—wouldn’t it?
but the guilt started to seep in & make you hide your face to groan in annoyance because why on earth were you spiralling like this?
“is something wrong?” he walked to you, holding your wrists & pulling them away to uncover you.
“just going insane is all” you replied, causing you both to laugh until he reached up to wipe off some of your smudged eyeliner from your under eye. he just needed to touch you somehow.
“guess what an old friend told me while i was getting a drink earlier”
you tilted your head in wonder, staring directly at eddie’s lips as he spoke.
“he saw us walk inside & told me that we looked like some couple from a movie—don’t remember which one though…” he ended with a murmur, too focussed on swiping his thumb on your cheek until you spoke up.
“is that a bad thing?” you asked, suddenly feeling small in this washroom with his hand directly on your skin.
eddie was closing in on you now, & you didn’t want it to stop.
you instantly felt sober now. especially with how each swipe on your skin felt like he was making you his—which was definitely an exaggeration but how could you need feel that way when he was holding you so delicately?
shaking his head ‘no’, eddie’s brows furrowed. “of course not—it’s not a bad thing. i-i just thought it was, i dunno, cute—“
“cute?” you questioned softer than him, a smile in the beginning stages of forming on your face.
was this your moment that robin was talking about? you sure hoped so.
“i-i think that’s the right word” he stumbled over his words, feeling your right hand brush some hair out of his face.
“i think so too”
& then there was comfortable silence.
you weren’t sure how to move forward from here. do you tell him all your feelings for him that you’ve keep hidden in a vault at the back of your mind? do you tell him that you’ve been fantasizing about him for weeks? that he’s the only one that makes you feel so many things?
you wish this part was easier.
“would it be, i dunno, uncalled for if i told you that you’ve been driving me crazy?” eddie asked, immediately unlocking said vault inside you.
“are you serious?” you asked, completely sober now as you pulled his hand away from your face & fixed your posture, eyes locked on his for the answer.
“as serious as the dead” his breath hitched, unsure if he made things worse or misread whatever signs you sent, but before he could apologize your hands were already on his face to pull his lips to yours.
it was a messy, top lip & hungry kiss that you’ve been dying to experience since you first laid eyes on him. & god did it felt right, with his tongue meshing with yours & his hands gripping your fishnet covered thighs as he pulled you closer to his body with aching need.
it was the kind of kiss that tried to convey just how you felt about him, the wanting & lusting from afar, the longing glances & lip bites when he made you feel a certain type of way.
it was catastrophic & heavy but sweet with laboured breaths of beer & smudged lipstick.
“holy shit” eddie breathed out against your lips, chasing him for another kiss because it was just that good but you were smiling & clashing your teeth against his & giggling from how silly it all felt.
“that is why i’ve been going insane” you panted against him, hands falling to grip the cotton of his shirt.
“i’m crazy about you eddie. & it’s not the drugs talking, i promise” you swore, scouts honour.
with his forehead pressing against yours & laugh escaping his lips that had little bits of your lipstick, he squeezed your thighs. “i would hope not, ‘cause i’m really crazy about you too”
you closed your eyes now, relishing in the weight lifting off your shoulders & how his touch felt electric. “eddie” you exhaled.
“yeah, sweetheart?” his fingers were pressing different patterns on your thighs to the point where you asked in yourself if he was writing ‘mine’ across the fishnet material.
“can we do this again tomorrow?” you asked, already longing for this feeling to last, praying this wouldn’t be just a one time thing at a party.
“i don’t plan on letting you go anytime soon, so yeah, i think we can make it happen” eddie smirked, kissing you quick before pulling back to see your swollen lips.
“wanna go back to the party & surprise the geeks?”
“i’d love to”
& with eddie whisking you from the counter, hand on your hip as he lead you back downstairs, you both immediately saw steve & robin jumping up & down happily when they witnessed you two looking like love sick idiots who finally fessed up.
young love, am i right?
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marriedtobigfoot · 1 year
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Part two of this story, where Robin discovers Steve’s type. A lot of people seemed interested in more, so here you go! 
The conversation doesn’t go quite the way Robin is expecting it. She’s fully prepared for Steve to launch into saying how confused he is because he’s feeling weird pants feelings for Eddie, but how does that work because he likes girls? She’s been mentally preparing herself for that exact discussion since she watched Eddie Munson call her best friend ‘Big Boy’ in the middle of committing grand theft auto. So when Steve starts talking, curled up on the gross linoleum tile of Family Video, she’s taken by surprise. She doesn’t even get the chance to answer his question before he’s throwing her prepared speech out the metaphorical window. 
“That’s stupid, you already told me that. Sharon Parker in the 5th grade, holding hands for Red Rover, blah blah blah, I know that. But like…Have you ever acted different around a girl, and then one day, you realize it’s because you like her? Like, you had a crush on a girl without even realizing it? Does that make any sense?” 
It takes Robin a second to reboot, but the second she manages, Steve throws her even further off track. 
“It’s just, Tommy H came by the other day, and he said some stuff that really has me thinking and-” 
Robin can’t stop herself. As soon as she hears a name other than Eddie Munson, she has a hand out covering Steve’s mouth. He gives her a look, surprised and confused. Maybe a little annoyed. She valiantly ignores him because what he just said has her head spinning, and she needs to put a stop to it right now. 
“Steve. My best friend in the whole universe. I’m here for whatever you need and whatever you might be figuring out about yourself. You know I’m going to support you 100% no matter what happens but…Please. PLEASE tell me that you didn’t just discover you have a crush on TOMMY H! He isn’t even your type, Steve! He isn’t even in the ballpark of your type! He’s so far off it’s honestly kind of laughable and-” 
Now it’s Steve who puts a hand over her mouth. 
“Jesus, Robin! First of all, gross. I’m not into Tommy, okay? Never gonna happen, not in a million years. And second, what the hell do you mean ‘my type?’ What the hell would you know about my type?” 
Robin carefully removes his hand from her face and shakes her head. She has absolutely no clue where this conversation is going, but there’s still a chance it can work its way somewhere good. Somewhere Munson-related. And she owes it to Steve to listen to his crisis properly. 
“Nevermind, forget that. What happened with Tommy?” 
“Okay well, he came over, like I said. He was super wasted, and I guess he and Carol broke up? And he started talking about when we were friends, and how he always used to try and get closer to me. He said he almost asked me if I wanted to practice kissing once? And he talked about like, trying to touch me all the time, trying to make me laugh? Basically saying he had a crush on me, which was super weird.” 
Robin nodded, because really, she had no idea what to say to that. 
“And then he kissed me. Which was kind of gross because he tasted like whisky and he was being all sloppy, like he wanted to eat my face. But…” 
“But?” 
“It wasn’t as gross as I would have expected I guess.” 
“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” 
“I don’t! It just, wasn’t a totally horrible kiss okay? Only a little horrible.” 
Robin sighed and let her head tip back against the wall. 
“Okay, I’m not seeing your dilemma yet. Tommy liking you and kissing you is kind of weird sure, but it doesn’t change anything about you.” 
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed, and he let out a puff of air. He looked small in this bathroom, scared in a way that Robin hated. They had faced down monsters, torture, long shifts with Keith. A conversation with his best friend should never have Steve looking that afraid, ever. 
She reached out and took his hand in her, giving it a gentle squeeze. 
“Hey, it’s okay Steve. Tell me what’s going on in that head.” 
“It’s just…Some of what Tommy said. About how he tried to get closer to me, to touch me and make me laugh and shit? I guess I realized that I’m doing that stuff. With somebody else. And if Tommy did it because he liked me then…” 
“You think it might mean you like this person. This…guy?” 
“Yeah. This guy.” 
There it was, the Eddie Munson of it all. Because Robin only knew of one guy that Steve spent his time with and would be trying to be touchy and close with. She had watched it happen with her own eyes, the way Steve would look for reasons to lean past Eddie, to put a hand on his shoulder, his back, once getting brave and putting a hand on his waist. She’d watched Eddie do the exact same things around Steve, too.
Part of her almost just comes out and tells Steve, that she knows who he’s talking about. Except he still looks unsure. He looks like he wants to throw up a little, and Robin has to fix that. 
“You know it’s okay right? For you to like this guy?” 
“I know. It’s just weird, to realize I might like him that way. Normally I can figure out when I’m into someone.” 
“Well, normally you aren’t friends with the people you’re into first. That makes it confusing.” 
“And I’m normally into people with boobies.” 
“That too.” 
Steve lets out a tiny laugh, and it makes Robin beam. Something about Steve is lighter now, like somethings been lifted off his chest, something that’s been there for a really long time without him knowing. She wants to tell him how much she’s loves him. How much she cares about him and supports him. She wants to tell him about all her research, and fully explain to him her findings when it comes to ‘his type.’ 
She wants to tell him that she knows the guy he likes is Eddie. That she thinks Eddie might like him too. 
The ‘ring for service’ bell ruins her chance at saying any of it. 
She and Steve both clamber off the floor, adjusting their vests before exiting the bathroom to greet whoever keeps ringing the stupid bell over and over again. Robin can’t decide if it’s the best luck in the world, or the worst, when it’s Eddie Munson himself standing at the counter. 
She leans towards best luck when she sees the way Steve’s cheeks go red.
A few people asked to be tagged if I did a part 2, so hopefully I do that right! I’ve got a few more parts planned, so if anybody else wants to be tagged let me know and I’ll do my best!
@kaiscove​ @wolfstarlights​  @awkwardgravity1​ @anonymousbandgirl​  @f1ct1onwh0re
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ebaylee422 · 1 year
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I Want Your Video
Steve x Fem!Reader
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Author’s Note: Steve won the poll, when I first started really reading fanfiction on tumblr early 2020-2021 there was a fic with mutual masturbation with BestFriend!Steve Harrington and this plays into the very heavy. I’ve been wanting to fuck you forever part for inspo. Also just love Djo’s music so a lot of my WIPs have titles of his music. Requests are open if you want more sexy Steve, thank you for reading!
Summary: Family Video just became a little less family friendly with the new addition of the 18 and older erotic video room. You are more curious than your co-workers about what a dirty movie includes, the sexual tension between you and dreamboat Steve Harrington does nothing for your pent up frustrations. 
Characters: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Family Video Worker!Reader, Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Max, El and Will love to pester Steve at his jobs, and gross mentions of Keith. 
Warning/Tags: SMUT (Minors DNI), Steve has a huge cock, dry humping, marking, fingering (f receiving), blow job, overstim, small nubbins of insecurities with reader and Steve, Steve and reader share playful banter, a ruined Armchair, dirty talk, pet names, riding (save a horse ride Steve Harrington), we all love boobies, creampie, cum play?  As always lmk if I forgot anything!
Word Count: 6.2k
"Well I knew they called it Family Video for a reason, I just never thought they'd take it so literally." You said as the three of you looked to the closed door with the new 18 plus warning sign, taking away your break room.
"Please stop mentioning it.” Robin pinches at the bridge of her nose
"What? At least people don't like, deal porn or try to find it at a public library." Steve adds setting the return tapes on the counter.
"Why would someone go to the library for PORN?" Robin boasts turning to her best friend,
"I don't know Buckley, people are stupid when horny." Steve admonishes
“Does that mean your always horny?” You tease, Steve opens his mouth to retaliated but Robin stops him. 
"No, now we just have Keith, who was already always in the back room. Potentially watching adult films on the clock and putting them back." Robin shakes in disgust.
"Like a trial run, he’ll be able to give great recommendations." You add nose scrunched with laughter bubbling in your chest.
"Ew gross." Robin said nauseated 
"Look he's creepy, but Keith is not that brave. Any one of us could walk back there." Steve says pointing to the ever closed office and backroom where Keith either naps or throws together a schedule. 
"Maybe he wants to be caught?" you nod, taking new tapes to stock in the romance section.
“Maybe he wants you to catch him?” Steve wiggles his eyebrows following you,
"Maybe you want me to smack you in the face-" You turn to find him closer than you anticipated only a few inches separating your body from his. 
"What? Don't be a prude now, you're the one who made the conversation interesting." Steve cut you off, chest puffed in challenge. His woodsy, ash, and vanilla smell intoxicating you as the spearmint on his breath floated you back to reality.
"That's because I'm interesting." You dare with a raised eyebrow, as his eyes flicker to your cherry lips.
"God please stop flirting in front of me or I'll get a cavity." Robin whines behind the counter. 
"We're not flirting-" You scold, "Okay-" Steve holds his hands up in defense at the same time. You huff and continue down the aisle to stock, red in the face with embarrassment. 
Towards the end of your shift the school rush dying down, you sit on the counter with Robin inventorying returns in the computer. Steve is holding the door open for a blonde girl popping her bubble gum with glossed lips. Giggling as Steve makes a fool of himself her chest rising with the laughter, over a Star Wars joke she didn’t understand. Explaining how she had been looking for the film in Alderaan places, and how he was always happy to help a pretty girl like her. 
You understood the joke, just because he didn’t know what Ewoks were didn’t mean he never paid attention when you talked about your favorite sci-fi series. 
“Stupid.” You mumbled under your breathe, rewinding tapes.
“Huh?” Robin asked, her doe eyes floating along the computers interface confused her mouth hung open. 
"Robs, have you ever watched an adult film?" You asked, aggravated and pent up.
"Yeah but there's not a lot in my area of attraction so I just stick to the magazines." Robin motioned toward herself, still clueless to your annoyance.
"Uh-huh, well I want to watch one." Finally being decisive on the embarrassing topic,
"Are we seriously still talking about this?" Steve chips in
"Did you seriously just strike out? You talked with her for like 30 seconds." You said infuriated, turning around to see him leaning over the counter with his stupid fluffy hair and tight polo. Sans a phone number written on his arms or a torn piece of notebook paper.
"Just remember Y/N that's all a man can give sometimes, porn isn't realistic." Robin added knocking her head into your leg in frustrated groan.
“How would you know that?” Steve scrutinized his best friend,
“Is it true?!” Robins eyes were blown wide in astonishment, they immediately started arguing with you the only barrier between them.
"Okay, I'm just gonna go back there and pick one." You slide from the counter, move Robin out of your way, they paused mid-argument to poke at you.
"Go for it, have fun." Robin called
"But not too much!" Steve yelped when she pinched him,
Opening the cliché room, of neon lights with each film had it’s own space on the shelves you began to read some of the titles. Private Teacher, Taboo, I Like to be Watched, Educating Nina, Talk Dirty to Me 1 and 2, 8 to 4, there's honestly too many. So let's just say that the first one, Private Teacher, sounds like it has some plot. You slip it into your vest, walking out of the room to find Steve surrounded by his children.
“Please Steve what’s back there?”
“We just want to take a quick peak!”
“For the millionth time, no. You’re barely 13!”
“We’re actually 14 and or older Steve.” Max says deadpan standing arms crossed next to a girl you think was named Jane or El you weren’t 100% sure. 
“Yeah kids leave the guy alone just because he would sneak you into the movie's at Scoops does not mean you get free rain of the porno’s.”
“Porno’s?!” Dustin yells as the rest of the kids shush him, looking around the other Family Video patrons.
“Yeah that’s enough Steve’s posse, your scaring away paying customers.” You shush them out the door, 
"Come on, I bet you have some criticism about at least one of these dirty movies." Robin asks Steve who is using every fiber in his being not to embarrass himself in front of you.
"Actually, I haven't watched any of them yet," Steve says while he re-faces the horror films the kids probably messed with earlier.
“Bullshit-” You butt in, Steve turns to defend himself but is saved by Robin’s blabbermouth. 
"I do but mostly for the... well you know, porno's aren't progressive in my territory yet." Robin held up the one, where the woman's boobs were almost completely out of her bra and there was a string of spit from her mouth to them.
"Well we could change this week's movie night at my place? This one seemed well loved. 3 rents already, and it’s only been a few weeks." I grabbed 'Private Teacher' walking over to Steve, the man had the woman bent over the desk, one of his hands pulling her hair so show her face for the camera. Her school girl costume left a tasteful amount of skin on show just for the cover. The tagline read ‘Sometimes A Little Private Instruction Is All You Need To Make The Grade’
He only glanced at the cover, "Yeah I'm good, I get my fill with my right hand and watching sappy some romance movies over and over again."
"Ewwww," Robin drones behind the counter. You laugh at his in response holding onto your sides while walking back over to her.
"Obviously, not in that order!" He follows, you pull out some rental money setting on the counter as Robin rang it up.
"Oh come on now, Stevie don't be the prude of the group. Robin will be there too and I know you don't have anything better to do. Since you're always at my house anyway." He scoffs hiding the tape under his elbow when another customer walks in.
"Yeah to get away from my asshole Dad, not to watch porn with you." 
"I think he would enjoy the fact you're actually finding a hobby," Robin says, putting the tape into a plastic bag, brushing some hair out of Steve's face. He sticks out his tongue mocking her. 
"Yes Robin, you're a truly hilarious comedian of the century. What do I have to do for you both to drop this? Especially as my best friend and basically my boss." You giggle at the obvious answer.
"Just come by tonight, Steve. I don’t wanna watch this alone. And like always bring your tissues for the movie," Robin almost falls over laughing, when you lean over the counter pressing a kiss to his heated cheek before waving goodbye. You spend the rest of your night picking up the apartment, filling the fridge with your friends favorite snacks, and vacuuming. You thought about lighting a candle, debating if that was too romantic to watch a Porno with your co-workers. Lighting it against those thoughts because it made the place smell nice. A knock at the door took you away from the sink of dishes from your breakfast.
“Come in! It’s open guys!” You yell turning off the faucet,
“What if I was a serial killer, Y/N? You’d let me wander about your living room?” Steve brushed his front past you setting a six-pack in the fridge.
“The only serial thing you are Steve is a serial pain in my butt.” You stick you tongue out, head lurching towards the direction of the living room only to find it empty.
“Ha-ha, ha.” Steve mocked, taking off his grey jacket to lay it across the counter before nose diving into the fridge again.
"How was your day? Where’s Buckley?" You pondered wiping your wet hands, the moving his jacket to a chair at the small four person dining table.
“Hanging out with a girl. And other than this chick at work begging me to watch porn with her, it was actually really busy." He threw a grape at where you were at the table, tossing a handful into his mouth with a crunch.
"I totally forgot about it until I was grabbing my wallet at the store, I was kinda embarrassed when I rediscovered it. The lady probably thought I was high as a kite!"
"Because you are," he drooled a little bit, speaking with a full mouth, raiding the fridge full of groceries.
"There's nothing wrong with blowing off some steam with a bit of erotica. Everyone does it," you turned tossing the soiled grape back at him, joining him in the kitchen again.
"Yeah that's gross, it's unspoken. Even creepy old men who can't get it up do it." He swallowed his mouth full then making an obscene gesture with his hand.
"Ew, gross Steve.” You say hands held up in disgust,
"See-"
"Well I'm not a creepy old man," You argued, taking the tape out of your bag. "Besides, it can't be that good or bad. Almost like a true neutral, just people going at it like animals." Walking into the living room, you closed the blinds and navy curtains before setting the tape into the already plugged in VCR.
"Okay hang on a minute, there's way better ways at blowing off steam." Steve interrupts, the fridge slams as his steps grow louder.
"Name a few for me, Lover Boy." You scoffed still bent at the waist, setting everything up at the entertainment center. Round shape of your ass in those acid wash jeans begging to be released. The sight made Steve’s own tighter around his crotch.
"I don't think you want to know mine," he says breathlessly, voice a bit deeper. You stood up and turned to where he stood, his back up against the archway that separated the two rooms. The tape started playing in the middle of the stars going at each other, extremely loud feminine moans rang from the Television. It broke you from the stare down, rushing to turn it down. He came up behind you on the rug, turning everything off altogether. After a pause of shock, you rolled over laughing against the entertainment center, covering your red face with your hands. Steve huffed sitting back on his calves, laughing at it as well. Eyes drifting to the swell of your chest as the laughing made it rise a fall. Dragging the hands down your face, leaning against the shelves. You clocked his stare immediately, his pupils are blown wide, lips slick as if he just wet them. Polo tight across his shoulders but untucked showing off a flash of his soft tummy. You swallowed hard catching your breath.
“Steve?” You reach out to him, his arms grip back at your elbows pulling you up on your knees towards his knees. “I wanna know, I want to know.” His nose pressed to your cheek, lip grazing over yours as he spoke. 
“I can show you.” His voice broke, husky and deep exhale along your skin. Your resolve faltered lips fitting like a puzzle against his. You pulled far enough away to split for air, only Steve followed pressing you closer together. Hand resting along your neck, holding you to him. 
"What's wrong?" You looked at him worried a line creasing your forehead he reached out to soothe.
"Nothing, you're just so...beautiful." He let his eyes wander, admiring that you’d even gave him the time of day.
“I want you. I want you to show me.”
“Okay.” Connecting again fireworks exploded behind your eyes. He pulled your top lip between his, you returned by licking the slope of his bottom lip from an open mouth kiss. Steve groaned, allowing you in. He tasted of the grapes from moments ago and spearmint of the gum he chewed to stop smoking, it was sickly sweet. My hand from his thigh came up to brush away the free fallen hair from getting in our way, the strands of hair were so soft, surprising, no matter how many times you’d wished to touch them. Pushing your chest against his, raising up on your knees deepening the kiss. He sunk down to a seated position, crossing his legs and leaning his head back to a lower level. It gave more access, he kept his hands in nice places like; nape of your neck, tangled hair, cheeks, small of the back and waist. You nipped his bottom lip, pulling gently then watched it fall back in place. He gripped one of your thighs, sending shocks of anticipation up your core. He kneaded, silently wanting for sometime. Everything was too good to break away and use words. You just obediently moved one leg at a time to sit on his lap. Using his shoulders to steady, lowering onto his lap. He whimpered in anticipation in you mouth, your heat grazed the zipper of his jeans. At the friction you gasped, lips swollen and lungs out of air, as you pressed foreheads together. Eyes opening to see him staring with hopefulness, eyes wide open. You teased lightly trailing lips over his. Waiting for a reaction, but he stayed firm. Hands on the ground by his sides holding you upright. Breathing as one for a moment before he spoke,
"I've thought about this moment for a very long time," He said only for the two of you, your fingers rubbed the five o’clock shadow of his jaw in your waiting hands "I want to, so terribly. I don't know where to go from here..." 
He smiled a dorky smile into your skin, keening at the contact of you against him.
"Then stop talking and kiss me again." He obeyed, trailing his lips down to your jaw, throat and to your collar, moving the fabric slightly he started softly sucking and rolling his tongue over the area. Your hands desperately clung to the back of his head, he moved closer to the pot of your collarbones and throat leaving wet kisses. He stopped his mouth looking up, with those caramel eyes so full of devotion. Mind going fuzzy, seeing the way he not only looked but saw into you. The way he always has. "Don’t stare at me like that,"
"Like what?" He let the collar of the shirt scrunch back in place the movement made you squeeze your thighs around his middle, eyes rolling back in his skull.
"Like you want to kiss me or something." His hands both came up to brush his thumbs along your ribs, fronts pressed against each other.
"I will never stop looking at you like that, no matter what happens.” He smiled, “I gave you my heart long ago." You kissed him more primal this time, needing to taste him and etch the feeling of him into your mind. He was moaning into the embrace, he still barely touched as you tugged at his shirt below, when he broke contact to pull it over his head you stopped the kiss to admire his chest.
"Steve..." You wheezed through bloated lips. "Touch me, it's okay. You can't hurt me" He kissed back hard, slipping his hands underneath your tight work shirt, his hands cold against the hot skin covering your spine. Breaking free from his lips pressing kisses on his face, down his throat cooing into him when he unclasped your bra with one hand in a single fluid motion. Running his hands over your bare back, unknowingly while you rotated your hips in small circles against his wanting more. Craving the contact and friction of him against you. He daintily ran his hands down your body hesitantly gripping the plush of your ass adding more pressure to the growing friction. His zipper felt so good against your own, letting go of your lips on his neck throwing your head back. As the feeling of his hard-on pressed up against your clit. Putting both hands on the floor behind you while he moved your hips against each other in sync, panting and grinding seeking release. Steve's abdomen flexed as he twitched under you, he was cumming loudly moaning your name from his pink lips. It sounded like a song when he said it, his release came fast, his chest heaving heavily as he pulled your body back against him. Hugging each other till lips grazed, as he came down from his high. You tried to suppress the giggle as his hands traced shapes along the small of your back.
"What are you so giddy about? You just made me cream my pants like a middle schooler." You shook your head tracing at the mark I left on his shoulder,
"Well since we're already past the point of no return. I didn't think you would be so loud." you pulled back lip bitten between teeth,
"Maybe if you weren't mauling me like a hungry lion, I could've stayed quiet." He tucks his head under your chin,
"I told you, I’m a lion girl not a ninja.” He laughed across your throat warming you as he kissed the flesh again. “Maybe I should pounce effectively, so I can really hear you scream my name." Steve stopped abruptly to meet your eyes, pupils blown wide, you felt immediately self-conscious blabbering out an apology before he could turn you down. "I’m so sorry, was that too much?"
"No...” He purred, this close you could tell the scent of him was distinctly cedar.  “I've actually never been more turned on." He pushed his lips to mine, rolling our tongues against each other, knowing exactly what you liked. He tightened his grip on on the fat of your hips and making you moan into him, pulling away his lips, forehead glistening, his eyes full of lust. He trailed his fingers up to help the offensive fabric of your shirt off, the bra slowly falling the rest of the way off your shoulders. His length twitched against the inside of your thigh again, he was entranced by the image. Still as a statue until guiding his lips down to the spot on you chest that made the world melt. He kissed everywhere, you kept each hand in his hair scratching at his scalp pleasantly. Leaning forward he placed your back against the carpet, hovering on top of but keeping himself slotted between your legs. Involuntarily moaning when he licked at erect nipple, he mirrored the same to the other one. His dick throbbed against the stain of cum, straining against the fabric. Kissing each while he unzipped the high waist of your jeans. You bucked your hips and helped him pull them down, he took them off your trapped ankles, restarting his descent to kiss down the length of your body again. Wet open mouth kisses making shooting sparks through your body at the intimate contact, grabbing his hand on the ground. 
“You are even more beautiful than my dreams ever allowed. Everything, you are everything.” His eyes silently asking for permission. As he slid a hand under the fabric of the green panties. You gasped loudly at the unbridled new contact of his palm, lowering to gather the dampness, trailing it up to your clit. He circled twice as his other fingers began to slowly plunge inside. You keened, calves dug into the bare flesh around his waist, “You're so wet for me,” sighing, hands finding purchase on his biceps, he hissed as his face fell into your neck.
“Uhh… Harder.” You held his arms with such intensity, leaving crescent marks into the skin digging hard into his muscle. Turning you chin down to find his lips to kiss, and silencing moans together his thumb began to swirl faster, his middle and ring finger able to go a little deeper with the changing hand position. Not being able to control the heat coursing through, you squeezed his hips harder. He whimpered, pressing himself up against your thigh rutting the fabric against himself for some contact. “Your fingers feel so good…” Moving lower, spreading wider to move your hips against his fingers, they worked expertly to consume all your senses. He pushed in a little further and harder, forcing you to look at what he was doing so wonderfully between your legs. Moaning obscene words, as your back arched further his fingers scissoring to stretch your walls. Clenching around his fingers that disappeared inside. “Holy shit- don’t stop.” Your hands fell to the floor grabbing the shag of the rug underneath, as muscles tensed unlike anything you’ve felt before. You came hard without warning, the orgasm spread through you, completely overwhelming, your legs shook out your high as he kept going, pressure building through your bladder before you felt a light gush.
"Fuck" He whispered in you ear, you could feel the shit eating grin off of his body language. 
"I haven’t done that before," you tell him.
"Yeah me either, ya know to a girl… I do that every time," he said into your neck, your cheeks instantly flushed. Laughing at his dorkiness, he moved your panties back in place. His fingers parted his lips, licking them clean of your arousal. You felt him throbbing against your thigh as you lightly pushed off the ground. Taking Steve's hand, you pushing him back to climb on the Lazy Boy you'd recently bought.
“What are you thinking, Sweets?” his voice was dark, he moved up the chair and sat. Spreading his legs for you, like the good boy he’d been.
“I just want to clean up my seat, Lover Boy.” You knelt down unbuckling his jeans, pulling them down and his ruined underwear. Letting him finally be free from the confines of the fabric, his cock flung back up pre leaving a pearlescent trail on the course hair of his happy trail. Steve was massive, how he’d fit into those jeans daily made your head spin. You would make him fit, even if his cock impaled your insides. 
“You don’t have to, no one’s been able to take all of me before.” He took your wanderlust as fear, and shit now you had to prove him wrong too. Your nails ran up his thighs as you collected some spit in the front of your mouth. Letting it drip onto the head, nails gripping his thigh to hold him in place you took the other hand and ran it across his length. Hitting the large vein along his shaft with your thumb, he pushed his head back against the plush chair. Fighting to buck up into you with everything in his body and mind not to blow his load again or buck up into you. He was breathing extremely heavily now, you gently kissed his red tip and watched as his fingers dug into the armrests. He held his breath a bit before you squeezed his thigh, then he exhaled. You then licked a long stripe down his shaft, you came back up to the tip flicking it with your tongue.
“Jesus, stop with the teasing Sweets,” You smiled like a siren, before holding him with a hand stroking up and down with your lips wrapped around the tip. He accidently to bucked his hips, you pressed his pelvis down taking in his full length.
“Holy shit!” Steve gasped. Hollowing your cheeks, you worked him to a pulp as your jaw went slack. His hands reached out to grab the hair that fell covering how you looked sucking him. Pulling it all to one hand, he didn’t need to guide your head, you were able to bob your head down him with a fair amount of ease with how wet you’d gotten his shaft. Tearing up and gaging if you went too slow, but it was well worth the noises coming from his beautiful lips. He watched in awe as you swallowed around him, eyes watery and spit slick chin, moving your second hand under his heavy sack you massaged them with each upstroke. HIs eye closed tightly as he twitched inside your mouth throwing his head back warning you. You took it all with a delightful swallow, helping him ride out the rest of his high with a hand. The only time he pulled his makeshift ponytail was when he could’ve cried from the stimulation. You relented with a pornographic pop, wiping your chin with the back of your hand and slowly stood going to straddle him, he playfully grabbed your body and pulled you to him on the lounge chair.
“That was way better than any other girl or me just watching porn.” you looked at him mouth agape, he was eye level with your bare chest.
“See, I knew you watched porn. A shit ton of it.” you slapped his chest.
“Yeah, but nothing compares to the real thing,” he began to kiss the marks he already started on your chest, in places only he’d only been allowed too. Your hands cupped his face for him to look at you. He smiled his beautiful heartfelt smile,
“Why didn’t we do this sooner?”
“I don’t know but Robin is the best wing women ever. She told me if I didn’t kiss you tonight I shouldn’t even bother showing my face at work tomorrow.”
“Wait, what is Robin doing?”
“She cancelled so we could in her words ‘either fuck away the tension out or kill each other’ .”
“Well she is definitely my favorite lesbian. That multi-lingual B is a genius. I would’ve let you do this even if you’d just. I don’t know asked me on a date.”
“Bullshit-, really?”
“Are you kidding?! You are so out of my league Steve, I’ve never been in your ballpark ever in my life.” He grimaces, thumb tracing idling along your hip bone.
“I’ve always thought you were the most beautiful, smart and caring girl. I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing, and I selfishly want you all to myself.” he whispers with affection you’d never heard from him before. Adam’s apple bobbing with his thick swallow of emotion.
“Then you have me.” he bit back a smile as his lip clashed with yours passionately kissing you, he faintly pulled your hair. You moaned at the action, spine tingling as you roamed your hands around his frame. Mapping out ever mole and divot along his heated skin. Trailing them back and forth on his chest like a sensual massage. He moved his hands to get a better angle on your hips, and began rowing them against himself. You both groaned at the friction, “Look who’s the tease now,” you pouted at him as a finger inched it way  to your clit tracing tight consistent circles. Your nails tear at his shoulders with pleasure, making him shudder under you. ‘God how many rounds could you go with him’ “Please… uh. Tell me you're ready.” you push your head into his neck, his fingers had already fine-tuned your pleasure. He stopped, fingers yanking your scalp to crash your lips to his. He still rowing you against his length, until his lungs screamed for air.
“I’m always ready, how do you feel about this?” he stops his motions, you felt unfulfilled when the movement ceased. You brain finally grasping some clarity, Steve would stop everything here if you wanted him too. Helping you re-dress and seeing himself out. Never telling a soul if you’d asked, he’d be celibate if you’d ask. Buying you the finest ring until your wedding night then ravishing you in your honeymoon bed. 
“This doesn’t change the way I feel about you. You’re perfect to me Steve.” he gave you a sinful smile, reaching his hand under your adjoined hips pushing you up onto your knees. While he finished working himself up, you waited as patiently as you could by marking his neck.
“God you're so wet for me, these panties are drenched after sucking me. We should’ve gotten rid of them, already.” His eyes were playful, and needy for more and all of you. He helped you stand, putting your hands on his shoulder to balance you as you took them off. Just the sight of you fully naked made his heart ache, he kissed your arm lips too far for his liking. Wanting even more contact, he grabbed your waist again leaning back into the chair. You kissed him lazy, you both were fucked out of your minds already. Now it was just comforting, you had all the time in the world. It was slow, sweet, his lips were so soft you still felt them all over your body. His hands roamed but craved to rest on your chest above your heart. You pressed your forehead against his, catching your breath. His hands on your hips, guided you gently down as you felt him at your entrance.
“Take your time, Sweets. I want us to enjoy this,” nipping at your forearm while sitting himself farther up the chair, feet still planted on the ground.
“You want me to top, you?”
“Is that a problem?”
“I haven’t done that… Before.” You told him shyly, 
“Well, well. Looks like we're about to enter a new realm of pleasure for you…” Licking his lips, “just take me in your hand and guide yourself down at your own speed, Sweetheart.” His comforting words sent a tingle down your spine, you put your hands on the soft skin where his pelvis lies. He just observes your movements gripping your hips like a steering wheel, mouth awestruck as you lower yourself down onto him. His hands dig into you, as you let him fill your insides. Immediately he’s touching things you’ve never felt, it’s painful in the most remarkable way.
“Shit, babe. Oh my god. Didn’t-Didn’t think you’d take all of me on the first go.” he shifts pulling your chest so he can latch on to his dark purple mark there. It causes a rush inside you even just the slight motion making you want to explode.
“Feels so full, god your fucking humongous Steve.” You whined, high pitched and needy. The ach of his cock started to morph from a burn to a stretch faster than you thought as your arousal dripped down your thighs. In brief circles you moved your hips against him, keeping him completely sheathed inside. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, he moves his hands to your thighs squeezing hard making you grind faster. He comes up for air from you chest and lets out a gracious moan,
“Stevie, pull the handle.” you whimper at him,
“What?” he mutters breathlessly.
“Holy shit, just…” you're on the brink of another powerful orgasm, pussy gripping him like a vice ”pull the handle back, trust me.” he lets go of one of your thighs frantically looking for the handle on the side of the recliner. He finally finds it and pulls hard, sending his lower body up into yours and your upper body over his. You both moan in ecstasy, his hand going back to your thigh. Sitting back up, you place one hand on his lower abdomen and the other on his hairy thigh behind you. He continues to groan affirmations and your name at the changed position, sending you over a small cliff. Only adding to the larger knot in your stomach, running up your body.  
“Keep going I want you to cum, cum around my fat cock.”
“Don’t stop, stay right there. I want it all.” You pant feeling him twitch inside you, moving your hips with his.
“God you're so wet, and you ride me so good Sweetheart.” he playfully smacks your ass, you change your position again to bring your lips to his. He moves your body up and down while kissing you, letting you dominate his mouth while he starts to push harder into you. Propelling himself up, while his hands push you down into him in an erratic give and take. This is what you’ve needed, this was perfect but not even the start for both of you. He continues to praise you through breaths of pleasure “I got you” , “I can make you feel so good, Sweetheart.”, he gets filthier and louder and you keep moving, riding each other to passionate oblivion. Your mind ventures to his lips all over you, yours on him, the coil in between you wraps him tightly inside you. Your body starts to shake from the high, you press your upper body against his chest the hair rubbing against your hardened nipples.
"Good girl, milk my cock. Feels so good, gunna cum. You gotta move Sweets."
“Want to feel you, feel you dripping out of me Steve.” He mewls, clinging to you.
“Shit. Beg me for it, tell me how bad you want me to cum inside you.”
“Oh Steve,” you open your eyes, pressing your forehead down to meet him, his open too. You clutch your walls around him harder as he tries to finish riding your orgasm, “Please.” You whimper. That’s all it takes he gasps and finally bursts in you. Lips soothing against yours for that other contact. You feel the hot liquid inside you, wringing him dry of everything that he could possibly have left.
Separating for air out of the kiss, feeling his hot breaths against your cheeks, he groans, swallowing hard at the sensitivity. You brush your hair off of your sweaty face, holding onto the back of his neck to see him better. His eyes gleamed with passion, you smiled back.
“My legs are jelly,” you laugh in his face,
“I’ll take that as an answer to my question then,” he smiles, lifting your hips up. He easily slips out of you, you groan in frustration at the emptiness between your legs. Hissing at the loss as well, his abs quiver against the softness of your soft tummy. He pushes the foot rest back, so he can sit upright in the chair. Capturing his lips in yours, leaning you back as he holds you manhandling your hips, rotating you forward to help you stand.
“I could kiss you forever.” He admits kissing your shoulders as you put your feet on the cold floor, pushing off of his knees. You wobble slightly, 
“See,” you turned to face him again, pulling him up to stand together face to face. He stumbled a bit too, “completely fucked out of my mind.” He wraps his arms around your waist swaying you slightly in an embrace.
“You did so good, Sweetheart. We should get cleaned up.”
“I did good, how did you not run out of cum? Three rounds your insatiable.”
"Told you, I don't joke about my porn." He winks, kissing the corner of your mouth as he picks up your discarded clothes on the floor of the living room. 
"No wonder you're idolized by 14 year old boys." You roll your eyes, picking up your panties. This time when you bend own he can see his spend dripping down your slit. He chuckles from behind you a free hand, coasting down your stomach to your heat. You gasp as his fingers collect his cum from your thighs, you spin in his hold to meet his eyes.
"Open." Steve commands, eyes clouding with lust as he watches you stick your tongue out for him. His fingers slide along your tongue covered in each other's spend. It's comforting, salty, and heady against your tongue. You moan around him, sucking the taste clean from his fingers. He fingers slip out tongue replacing them, as he tips your chin up to meet his lips deeper, tongue kneading yours as he memorizes you. Inside and out.
“You know,” You murmur into his mouth as his mouth strays from yours coasting to mouth down your jaw. “I have a camcorder somewhere in my closet.” He freezes lips parted and eyes wide.
“Yeah? You don’t want to finish the movie? I was just starting to enjoy it.” You pout your lips, while he picks up all of the clothes from various places you threw them.
“Yeah... We could or..?”
“Or?”
“If you wanted we could make are own video?” Steve doesn’t even dictate your question with a response only hoisting you over his shoulder and burying you in the mattress for the rest of the night. 
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acowardinmordor · 9 months
Text
You Left Me, You Miss Me
Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four
@mc-i-r is writing another version of this and tagged me and my brain woke up, so here ya go. This is almost all dialogue, and my new love for Mrs Buckley.
----
"Hey Steve-o! Get in here!" Robin yelled.
"Thought you were talking to your mom?" Steve shouted back.
"I am! That's why you have to come here! The cord won't reach!"
Steve hauled himself up from the corner of the kitchen where he was reorganizing things for the third time since they moved in last week. There was a pile of boxes they really needed to open in the hallway, and his mattress was still against the wall, but he kept going back to the kitchen, trying to make it work despite there being only one pull out drawer. One. They noticed before they signed the lease, but they both assumed they could make it work somehow if they just tried hard enough. But. Third time's the charm.
Flopping onto the thrifted couch next to his best friend, he leaned against her head, and greeted, "Hi Mrs Buckley, how are you?"
"Now why can't you answer the phone so politely, Robin? Who raised you to be so impolite?"
"Yeah, mom, I know you love Steve more than you love me, you tell me every time you talk to him, now can you say it again please?"
"Yes, well, like I was saying, I don't really know why they were all so upset about it, but I didn't want to overstep, so I didn't tell them anything. Not really. Only that you had moved and that you were fine. It's not like that's a secret. Then I noticed that they didn't know about that and so I didn't answer the rest of the questions, which really only made them more upset, but I think they were upset with me, not with the pair of you, so that's perfectly fine, none of them were nearly as vicious as Robin was when she was fifteen and decided she--"
"Mom!"
Steve giggled. Robin's rambling came from her mother, that was certain, and it was worse when they were on the phone. They fed on each other's talking. Like that snake thing.
"Right, yes. Well, Steve, like I told her, those boys, the ones you used to babysit for, they came around to ask if I knew where you were," Mrs Buckley finally said.
Robin grabbed his hand with the one not holding the phone, and pressed her forehead harder against his as they crowded the handset. Steve didn't think he'd reacted, but they didn't need anything as boring as a visible reaction to know each other.
"They said that they went into the video store and saw someone new at the desk, and when they heard that the two of you were no longer working there -- Apparently that manager of yours had some unpleasant words on the subject. You know I never liked him? The first time I stepped in there he asked me if I was still married? Not like that, of course, but it was still very strange. I didn't like it. And according to Robin he was always like that, wasn't he, Steven?"
"Yeah, he was pretty weird," Steve answered numbly.
"Well, that Keith fellow told them you were no longer employed there and that curly haired one demanded to know where you were employed. Since its not like he knew even if he would have told them, those boys went looking for themselves. I guess they went to your house first, Steven, and must have seen the for sale sign. I don't know what your parents are thinking, selling with the market like it is right now, but no one has ever made either of your parents listen to a single word of sense in their lives."
"Mom, the point?"
"Yes, sorry dear, like I told Robin, eventually it must have occurred to them that the two of you would be in the same place and thought to come by. Well. I say come by. First they called, and your father, you know how he is, simply said you were no longer in residence and hung up on them. He thinks he's so funny. Oh! Make sure you remember to call next Tuesday to congratulate him. It's his first day as the lead manager in the office. Oh no, wait, does it count as long distance for you? Never mind, I'll place the call so you don't have to worry about it."
"Mrs Buckley? You were saying something about Dustin?" He was proud that his voice was steady. They left Hawkins eleven days ago. They started packing two weeks before that. His parents put the house on the market around the same time. It wasn't until today that they noticed.
"Yes, that's the one. So Dustin didn't take your father's humor well, and he and his friends came by earlier this evening."
"Wait, evening?" Steve interrupted, "It was dark? They were biking around in the dark? In this weather?"
"Oh goodness no, that young man drove them. The one that was in the papers that the pair of you helped last year. He was much more polite than they were. Well, once I told them that you'd moved, they all started shouting over each other, I was sure that Ms Wickley was going to come over and scold them."
"I'm sorry, ma'am--"
"Oh you don't need to ma'am me Steven, I've told you that."
"Mom, he was just trying to be polite when he asked you to please get to the point, so can you, you know, try to get to the point some time tonight. You're paying for the call, but jeez."
"Oh yes. Well it occurred to me while they were all shouting that if they were your friends like they were saying, they would have known that you were moving. So when they managed to calm down enough I could hear a thing I said, I refused to tell them anything else. It's none of their business if you don't want it to be. And that Dustin boy said that you were his best friend, right in the same sentence he said he hadn't seen you in a month. But, I wasn't entirely sure if I was wrong about it, so I did promise I would ask you if you wanted me to pass on your information."
"Good job, mom, you finally got back to it. This is why I had you come over here, so you could hear that last part. I should have just asked you. Do you want my mom to give them our number or address or anything?" Robin had rolled her eyes over her mom's rambling, completely unaware she was just as terrible. But then she stared at him, concerned and outraged and protective and sad. God, he didn't know what he'd do without her.
"Did they ask?" Steve said.
"Ask? I don't think a single one of them knows how to ask anything. They certainly shouted a lot of demands. If you don't want me to tell them, I have no complaints about being the villain in this story. After everything you've done for my girl, being there for her before she even told me, and now making sure she's safe from any kind of trouble up there, you're such a perfect - what was the - beard? I think that's what I saw in that article in that magazine. Oh, no, the Zine, I ordered. But even without all that, I'll happily shut the door in their faces every day for a year if that's what you want done."
Steve's next breath stuttered, and that was all Robin needed to see.
"Hang on mom, I'm going to put the phone down, don't hang up, we'll be back." She sat the handset on the couch, then dragged a throw blanket over it to muffle their voices completely.
"You okay there or do I need to make a snap decision about which is going to be our household's vomit bowl?" He pushed her shoulder half-heartedly. "Okay, yeah, we both know it's gonna be the one with the cow on it. But you okay there, Stevie?"
"I'm fine."
"No you aren't."
"I'm fine."
She gasped, "You would lie to your soulmate? To her face?"
"I'm not! I'm fine! I just... I don't know, Robs."
Robin watched for a second as all of the muck of emotions bubbled inside him. Then she, as she always did, understood him.
"You want to say no. You want to tell her not to let them know where we are, but you're also freaking out because the brats come find you whenever It's back."
And because for a second, he desperately hoped that they missed him, or wanted to call so they could apologize for the last months. She didn't need to say that part. He half shrugged, sort of nodded, and bobbed his chin towards the throw blanket.
"You sure, Dingus?"
"Yeah."
"Is it gonna be Hopper or Joyce?" she faux wondered as she grabbed the phone from its prison. "Mom? Hi, back. Yeah, thank you. I'm gonna hand the phone to Steve now."
She didn't move away, but she didn't share the earpiece.
"Hi Mrs Buckley. I guess I -- could I ask a couple questions first?"
"Of course dear. What would you like to know?"
"Did any of them say anything weird or really specific?"
"Like what?"
"Like, about the mall, or last spring, or, bats, or uh, did they say anything about their dungeons and dragons game?"
"No. Why would they?"
Steve forced his shoulders to relax. El said it was done, but four years of it coming back meant he'd never fully trust that as true.
"No reason I guess."
"Well. That Munson boy did ask me about a radio right at the end. After the others stomped back to the driveway. He came back and he seemed - well he asked about a radio. And I said you certainly had a radio in your car, but I think he may have been talking about something else. Is that what you meant?"
"Okay, uh. Yeah. Thank you. I guess."
"So what would you like me to tell them next time I see one of them? If you'd like to take your time about it, you can. They were quite worked up about it, but it's a little ridiculous to act like they were owed something if they didn't even notice you two moving. You knocked over a stop sign with that rental truck."
Steve laughed. Couldn't help it. "I really can't wait, ma'am. They'll be back tomorrow morning to bother you." He gave Robin a look she immediately returned. Even without hearing the other half, she understood how true that was.
"Of course they won't, they have school," Mrs Buckley argued.
"Yeah, just means they'll be at your door even earlier."
"Well that's rude."
"Yeah, that's them. So, um. You can be rude back if you want. Don't, uh, you don't need to answer their questions. If you don't mind that they're not going to take it well."
Mrs Buckley laughed, loud and cackling for a moment, making the phone go staticky. "Oh dear, it would be my absolute pleasure to be rude right back to them. I'm much better at it. Anything else?"
"Yeah, you know Jim Hopper?" The resounding silence promised she was giving him the same judgemental look Robin was. "Sorry, that was dumb. But can you give him our number? Not to share with them, just so he has it. And, funny story about radios, but, the one that -- that that guy asked about is in your hall closet. Top shelf, next to the popcorn tin. Give Hopper that too?"
"Certainly, anything I should tell him, or should I ask to return the phone to my ridiculous child that you're generous enough to live with so I can say good night?"
For some reason, it made him think about the returns box at the store. A handle pulled open, the movie dropped inside, and nothing else needed. No one had to explain why they were giving back their copy of Breakfast Club. They had it for a while, hopefully they enjoyed it, and then when it was done, when they didn't need it anymore, or when it was overdue, when they kept it longer than they should have, costing them more money to keep around than it was worth, when they decided they were done with it, they didn't write a letter and explain why they--
"No. But, just. Tell him its for emergencies or something. Thank you, bye, or, goodnight ma'am, Mrs Buckley, uh, here's Robs. Bye."
He climbed off the couch as he shoved the phone at her, and headed for the window in his yet to be unpacked room. Rob would kill him in his sleep if he had a cigarette, but if he had any, he'd have taken the risk.
The glass was so cold it was painful against his forehead when he leaned into it, and he watched the little flurries of snow on the street kicked up by the wind. They didn't even notice for a few weeks. They'd quit Family Video a week before they left, and he knew the kids watched at least a few every weekend. They must have gone in, multiple times, and just, not noticed. Or not cared.
He wasn't sure which of those was worse.
He wasn't sure why it hurt when he made his peace with it weeks and weeks ago. It hadn't ached so vividly since the fall. Worst of all was the shock of concern for them, thinking they were out on their bikes in the dark and the snow. Then the relief that Eddie drove them. The feeling was huge enough to eclipse anything else until he knew they were safe.
Hadn't seen them in a month, barely seen them before that, and his first instinct was still to drop everything and grabs his keys. He was two hours away, and his brain was itchy to go drive by and check on them. They didn't need him to do that. They didn't want him to.
And based on how his stomach lurched when he heard that they didn't know he'd left, he didn't think it would do him any favors to go back. Hop and Joyce knew how to handle them if they started to do anything too risky, and the kids were practically glued to Eddie's side.
They weren't his to look after.
"Stop staring out the window like your lover is lost on the moors," Robin complained, wrapping him in a hug from behind.
"I have no idea what that means, Robs."
"Good, I'll explain it to you. Come on, lets go, we've got a kitchen to reorganize. I already started stuff for popcorn and hot chocolate. Lets gooooo, you're too heavy for me to carry, hup two."
Steve snorted and let her drag him away.
"I thought we were going to get my room set up, so I wouldn't have to share with you again?"
She gave him that look. That one that was fond and frustrated and sassy as shit. The one that said she wasn't going to let him get away with being dumb, but wasn't going to call him on it.
"It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind. You can share with me for a while longer. Now do the hot chocolate, and don't skimp on the whipped cream. We bought that can on sale and its going to go bad any second. Just use all of it. Directly into our mouths if we cant get it balance on the mug. Don't want to waste it, and we deserve it. I'm on popcorn duty, and then we're going to defeat this puzzle, Harrington. We outsmarted the Russians, we can outsmart the dishes!"
Shit. He sniffled as he followed her orders.
He was so damn grateful he still had her.
-----
Next>>
Still don't do tag lists. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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italiansteebie · 11 months
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steve hadn't cried in about a year.
he hadn't cried in about a year and he can't believe he was tearing up at work of all places.
he's brain was loud, and his hands wanted to flap and move and graze his skin waiting for the tell tale catch of a bump under his nails so he could scratch and rub and numb his brain, for just a second.
"you okay?"
that was robin, and he knew she was looking at him with her round eyes, full of concern, and he couldn't face her because if he did, he'd break, so he nodded, letting his fingers scrub at a spot on his arm as he stared off into space.
steve hadn't cried in about a year and now a customer was yelling at him, and there was a crying baby, and the movie robin had put on the store TV was blaring and-
and steve hadn't cried in about a year and it was almost laughable that it was happening now.
but it wasn't laughable because the thrumming under his skin was getting too much, it was building, and building and- "shut up!" he slammed his hands over his ears. "shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up!" the tears were streaming freely now and in the back of his mind he knew he was causing a scene. he distantly heard the customer ask if he was okay, muttering something about 'being retarded' but he could only focus on clamping his eyes shut and pressing his ear closed so hard, that it began to hurt.
he was thrashing and twisting and the burn in his throat told him he was still yelling, and he flinched as robin guided him back to the break room, shutting the lights off, telling him that she was going to call eddie.
his screams eventually evened out to a harsh hum, and his thrashing had slowed to a rock.
he didn't hear eddie come in, on account of his hands having been covering his ears, but he almost immediately relaxed once the blanket, his blanket, was draped over him and he was pulled into a tight squeeze of a hug.
"you okay, baby?"
steve hummed. eddie pressed a kiss to his temple, still holding him tight, giving steve the pressure he needed.
"can you talk, my love?"
steve hummed once more, he knew he could try and force the words out, but he really, really didn't want to.
"that's okay, stevie. rob is closing up the shop, keith is letting you guys go home early, kay?"
steve whined, feeling guilty about messing the day up, but eddie seemed to read his mind. "none of that, love. you need rest, that's how we make these things easier. right?"
steve nodded, humming against eddie's chest once more, letting the tiredness of the meltdown wash over him, and allowing the sleep to come.
--
he woke up with robin pressed against him and eddie curled around him, playing with his hair. steve opened his mouth a few times, trying to get the words out, but eventually giving up.
he tapped eddie, getting his attention. he brought his hand up to his chin and moved it away, "thank you. i love you." he signed, eddie smiling down at him. "i love you too," and he knows eddie could've said it back, but it mean more in that moment that he signed it.
he curled into his boyfriend and his best friend, relishing in the people that always have met him where he is.
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Text
Steve is the Mom Friend™, officially the most reliable member of the Party; it would be Dustin, but Dustin insists that they'd be lost without Steve there to help them. Steve doesn't argue, but he disagrees. He thinks he's too volatile to really be considered for Most Reliable.
For most of his childhood, he was isolated from his peers, who he was Not Allowed To Talk To Because They Aren't Worth A Harrington's Time, Stephen. Steve is young and still wants his parents to love him, so he obeys. He's a good boy, if a little sensitive, and therein lies the problem: he feels so much, and he doesn't have a clue on how to express any of it. He can't process his feelings, they're too big to fit in his body. It overwhelms him easily and makes his throat tight- impossible to speak. His father scolds him when he has these overwhelmed episodes, as if Steve is purposely ruining his off time at home by crying; his mother ignores him if he acts childishly. There isn't really anyone who teaches Steve how to cope with being a human.
Steve remembers that he was always angry. It felt like an itch under his skin, a low but steady humming in his veins that could explode at anything, and even back then, he despised that feeling, scared that it meant he would end up a Bad Person. He'd started getting into fights (the first one he could remember was when he was eight and Keith pushed him to get to the playground faster. Keith got a bloody nose and Steve got detention for a week) and never really stopped. By twelve, his entire school is afraid of him, except for a select few kids: Tommy H, whose dad worked with Steve's dad, Barb Holland, who thought Steve was both a good person and a blockhead, and the new Munson boy, who didn't say much of anything, but especially nothing about the time he caught Steve crying in the woods in April after his parents missed the sixth birthday in a row.
It didn't really get better until high school, when his father demanded suggested he sign up for the basketball team; practice and drills helped diffuse a lot of that stifled anger, and for the first time, Steve feels like he can breathe. He doesn't have to be angry all the time anymore, even if most of his calm is just a lack of energy. That isn't to say the anger is gone; he still gets into fights often, but he manages to tone down the violence and rely more on a sharp tongue and a lazy confidence whenever fighting is brought up.
Cue season one! Steve, at the top of his game, the bloody, undisputed King of Hawkins High, is absolutely head over heels for sweet, shy Nancy Wheeler. He bares his soul to Nancy, who, after hearing what he has to say, promises that she'll be there for him. They're together now, they look after each other. It's everything Steve had ever wanted.
When he finds out about the creepy photos Jonathan took of them at Steve's pool on the night Barb went missing (and I love Jonathan, I really do, but what the hell man), he feels that anger starting to boil over again and panics. He was doing so well! Nancy would help, though, just hearing that find "You're an idiot, Steve Harrington" would cool him off. But it worsens when he tries to sneak in to Nancy's room and Jonathan is SLEEPING in Nancy's bed, half-curled around her. Steve doesn't want to get the cops called on him again, so he goes home.
The next day, it all boils over. He tried to stay calm, really, but it was like using a wine cork to stop a volcano; he stands by while Carol and Tommy spread rumors about Nancy, smirks cruelly while Carol spray paints the slur on the movie theater sign, and does not give an inch when Nancy calls him an ass, tears in her eyes and flanked by Jonathan. He's trying his damnedest to keep his hands to himself, though (his father wasn't happy the last time Steve got arrested, and somehow Steve knew that he wouldn't be happy if it happened again), so he's caught off guard when Jonathan starts throwing punches. (Later, Steve will admit that he doesn't really remember what he'd said to make Jonathan so angry that he'd actually try to fight Steve, but he'll apologize anyway. Jonathan is quick to forgive, and apologizes for starting the fight, as well). Steve's memory gets spotty around this time; he remembers a sharp pain in his head, just above his left ear, and being so dizzy that he struggles not to throw up, but he doesn't remember Jonathan landing any other hits (he has three bruises, two around his sternum and one under his eye, as well as a split lip), and he definitely does not remember running from the police trying to break up the fight.
It takes him a few hours to calm down, but it's largely due to the gap in his memory keeping him confused and panicked; he can't remember what he said, and Jonathan Byers may be a girlfriend-stealer but Steve remembers that he's also the kid who held funerals for the mice caught in the traps behind the school gym. Whatever he said had to have been really, really messed up, and Steve genuinely hates that he gets angry, that it isn't uncommon for him to lose time to his anger, that his first response to anything is always anger. So he goes to apologize.
The loaded gun pointed at his face is somehow the least upsetting part of that night.
During season 2, there's a lot going on. Steve has been working so hard on his anger, on keeping a lid on it and actually processing his emotions (thank you, therapy that Hopper demanded Hawkins Lab provide), but it wasn't enough. Nancy resented him, had actually blamed him for Barb's death, and that bitterness came to a head on Halloween.
Without Nancy, Steve struggled a lot more. He had nothing, no one; he didn't have anyone to tell about his parents' death in early June, and he didn't like talking about his wealth. There was no support system- until Dustin decided that Steve was going to help him. The kid was relentless and demanding and trusted Steve to help him almost immediately. Steve could hardly keep up, but he loved the feeling. And, when they ended up in a junkyard bus surrounded by demon dogs, he had three people depending on him, and suddenly he had a way to channel his anger (Dr. Harris would be so proud when he told her). He had a bat and enough unresolved trauma to rival those people his dad used to talk about with shell shock, and by the gods he was going to use that. He went apeshit on some demodogs, saved the kid's lives, and apparently became a big brother to a genius boy and a little girl that could probably fight God and win. He also got his third concussion when Max's stepbrother threatened to kill Lucas, but the order of events for that night is skewed; he blames the concussion. The doctor Hopper forced him to go to after said that he may never hear out of his left side again.
Season 3 sees Steve with a little family that he built all on his own: there's Will (who's shy but has a smile like sunshine when Steve asks him about anything), Jonathan (who cried when Steve asks if they can be friends and then proceeds to infodump on musicians every time he hears Steve so much as hum in a mildly musical manner), Max (the girl with a keen sense and a quick wit, whose older brother terrifies Steve because that's exactly how he could have turned out had he not gotten help), Lucas (who treated Steve like the big brother he never had and often called him racist for trivial things ["Steve, can we order pizza?" No. "Is it because I'm black?"]) Erica (who just sorta showed up with Lucas on occasion and reminded Steve just how fun it could be to be That Bitch), Mike (who alternated between passive assholery and cartoon-esque assassination attempts), Nancy, shockingly (who sat Steve down soon after the massacre at the hospital and apologized for blaming him for- well, everything. They'd talked for a long time, hashing it out, and by the end of it, Steve felt like he had a friend), Eleven (who comes by every Wednesday and Saturday for homemade waffles and a secret knitting circle), and Dustin (who became like a real little brother in the span of three days and never looked back. Steve vowed to keep Dustin safe with everything in him that night in the tunnels.).
He meets Robin when he gets a job at Starcourt (he may be set for life but Hop had told him that hard work built character, and Hop was the kind of man Steve wanted to become). She's wary of him, at first, especially when she watches him break the ice cream machine in a (now rare) fit of anger after a customer blew up at him for their ice cream melting before they finished it. But then he stammers through an apology and brings her a batch of cookies the next day, and tries to explain that he's better now, really, and Robin decides that he's a good person deep down. Maybe not too deep down, though, because his cookies are the best she's ever had. Besides, watching his face turn cherry red as he hides behind the shelves to spy on the repair guy is the most entertaining thing she's seen all summer, possibly in her life.
("Steve, you're drooling," she warns, and Steve hurriedly checks his chin.
"I'm making sure he doesn't get his hair stuck in the machine!" He tries to defend.
"First, his hair is under that bandanna. Second, Eddie Munson would rather die than ruin his rockstar hair.")
Their ice cream machine breaks six more times before Dustin comes back from camp, and each time Steve is a flustered mess talking to Eddie Munson. To his credit, Eddie only gives Steve a half-fond, amused smile before chatting with him about nothing in particular. After the third time, Eddie starts calling Steve "big boy" and lightly teasing him over the fist-shaped dents in the side of the machine.
Steve fights the Russians in the secret Starcourt base, not because they're coming at him, but because one of them reaches out for Dustin/Erica. The edges of his vision blurs, and distantly he knows that he's experiencing something like his childhood episodes: all his can feel is fire in his soul, burning straight through his body, and he has to get it out, he has to protect his brother-
"Wow, Steve won a fight!" Dustin crows as Steve is coming back to himself, his whole body trembling with leftover rage and no one to take it out on. Steve just clutches Dustin to him and tries to breathe. Dustin allows it for two minutes, then starts to squirm, but Steve doesn't release him until they hear footsteps.
With Dustin and Erica safe, Steve surrenders pretty easily- he needed to save his energy. But then they started the "interrogation," and Robin sounded so scared, and they hurt his hands and there were drugs-
Steve faintly remembers jumping onto a man (so tall and broad that Steve briefly felt like he was just a backpack) and biting him, locking his jaw and clawing like a feral cat. Robin remembers Steve promising to "smack the red right out of you commie assholes" while forcing his way through the tunnels, but she can't be sure if it was real or the drugs they were given. Dustin recalls Steve giggling at the movie they were hiding in, like a dork. Erica will never forget that Steve has a Berserker mode, or that he protected her even though she was in the process of blackmailing him for free ice cream.
In October of '85, Jason Carver catches him in the high school parking lot one night as he waits for Hellfire to get out. Steve denies all memories of what was said between them, but Jason walks away without need for an ambulance, so he counts it as a win.
In December of '85, the day that the kids all get out for Christmas Break, Chrissy Cunningham finds him in the parking lot and they sit for nearly an hour talking about projects for their secret knitting circle with the police chief's daughter. As hellfire let's out, Chrissy leaves, and Steve gets to watch as the older members walk his kids to his car, like awkward little nerdy gentlemen. Eddie always hands them off with a flourish and a wink. ("The children, Your Highness," he would say confidently, his three nerds behind him giving him nervous looks. "Perhaps you'll join us next week, my liege?" Steve pretends to be unamused by his theatrics, but Eddie has an infectious grin and a genuinely happy shine to his eyes.)
Season 4, Steve is definitely on edge, twitchy as they search for Eddie. He's worried for Dustin, who is attracted to trouble and smart enough to drag everyone else into it too, but also for Eddie, who occasionally popped by Family Video to talk with Robin. According to Eddie, he's allowed in the break room and behind the counter because he and Robin are "friends of Dorothy". Steve doesn't even know a Dorothy. (Eddie usually waits until Steve walks away in a flustered, confused huff before whispering to Robin, "Dorothy says: be gay, do crime.")
Eddie held a jagged glass bottle to his neck and Steve didn't feel anything. He wasn't scared for his life like the news promised he would be, nor was he angry like he'd expected he would be. Eddie shuffles around nervously, but the only thing Steve feels is concern for him.
He gets dragged through the Watergate and immediately attacked by those godawful bats- he was almost in the boat, they had to help Max, he would not lose his baby sister, and boom, he's back to fighting. He fends them off with the help of Eddie, Robin, and Nancy, all of whom he is furious with for following him into the Upside Down like idiots.
"Harrington's got her. Don't ya, big boy?" Eddie teased, and Steve felt electricity through his whole being. His face flushed red and he stammered an affirmative, not noticing Robin or Eddie as they grinned at each other. Eddie stuck close the entire time they were in the RV, and if Steve didn't know better, he'd say Eddie was flirting with him. But he did know better, there was no way Eddie was flirting. He was on the run and desperate for human interaction.
Separating for the plan was the hardest thing Steve had ever done. While Dustin was getting ready, Steve pulled Eddie aside. "Please keep him safe. I'll do anything you want, just please, don't let anything happen to him," he begged, desperately clutching Eddie's sleeves. "He's my brother, Eddie, I can't lose him-"
"I promise, Steve," Eddie had interrupted. "I'll guard him with my life."
"Guard him with mine," Steve insisted. Eddie didn't get it at first, but it would hit him later that Steve wanted Eddie to keep them both safe.
Steve would never tell a soul, but he liked confronting Vecna. Armed with chemical weapons, Robin stayed a bit behind, but Nancy emptied round after round into One, and Steve? Steve got to use his bat.
It was exhilarating; as much as he hated his anger problems, he could not deny that it felt good to attack the source of all their problems. His arms grew tired after a while, though, and Vecna seemed distracted, disoriented, so Steve resorted to his usual tactics. He never fought fair: biting, scratching, clawing his way to victory in everyday scuffles, there was no way he'd give up this opportunity.
Something in him twists suddenly. He feels sick to his stomach and scared, but he has no idea why. All he can think about is Eddie and Dustin- he's hurt he's hurt he'shurtheshurtheshurt. So he makes the decision to go back; Nancy and Robin technically have the injured Vecna under control. He runs.
Eddie is being swarmed when he makes it to the trailer. One minute, Steve watches as they descend on his friend(?), and the next, he's supporting an injured Eddie as they hobble together to Wayne Munson's truck, Wayne on Eddie's other side and rambling about "what the hell is going on" so similarly to Hop that Steve feels the hollow sting of loss. Later, as they rest in the living room of Steve's empty house, Dustin tells Steve about what he saw: Eddie, going to the ground, unable to fight them off any longer, hope lost and grief already tearing its claws into Dustin's chest, and then out of nowhere Steve appears, covered in bits of vine and rock. He tells Steve about the enraged roar he could hear from the trailer (ten feet behind Dustin as his hobbling came to a stop) and the nail bat that had yet to leave Steve's hand swinging at each assailant with such a precision that, for a brief moment in the chaos, Dusting could hear the sounds of an orchestra playing a symphony, Steve as their ragged, bloodied maestro. He tells Steve about the wild look in Steve's eyes as he carried a half-conscious Eddie into the trailer, snarling about how stupid and careless Eddie was, and how moronic Dustin was for jumping through a gate the way he did. He tells Steve about the stray demobat that burst through the door, how Steve grabbed it with his bare hands and ripped it in half- Dustin's got stars in his eyes as he relays this, even now, days later.
∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆
This kinda got away from me I'm sorry
I'm still new to people wanting to read what I write so I'm just gonna tag the one person I know was also excited about steve being feral: @amoris-no-smut-allowed
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eddieschains · 10 months
Text
It’s Really Over, Isn’t It?
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A/N: this is a repost from when i first started my blog
Word Count: 1.6k
Part 2 Part 3
7 months and 23 days. That’s how long it’s been since you last saw Eddie. You spent 3 years together, pushed him to focus on graduating, until he pushed you out. At least that’s how you saw it.
You knew he wanted to take Corroded Coffin farther than Gareth’s garage, farther than The Hideout, farther than Hawkins, but you always figured he’d wait for you. He always knew your plans to go to college, and promised to stick around for you. He must’ve forgotten about that promise.
“Y/N I can’t stay here. I need to leave, need a fresh start, need to make something of myself other than being a freak and an outcast.”
“And what about me Eddie? Do you not remember the promise you made to me? That you’d wait for me? That we’d start fresh together?”
“Then come with me.”
“You know I can’t do that Eddie. We both have dreams and we both need to make those come true but I don’t understand why you can’t do that here?”
“This is Hawkins! No one cares about me or about my music here!”
“I care about you! I care about you and I thought you cared about me too.”
“I do but… I’m sorry I need to do this for myself. Wait for me. I’ll be back. I promise.”
“I’ve heard those words before.”
Even though he shattered your heart into a million pieces, you did what he asked. You waited. You waited for months without a visit, a letter, or even a phone call. You waited until you couldn’t wait anymore.
Starting to come with the terms that he wasn’t coming back, you doubled down and tried your best to move on. You focused on your school work and got a job at the local video store. You soon became close friends with the other people who worked there, Steve and Robin. You faintly remembered them from school but never had a conversation.
They comforted and consoled you every time you came into work with mascara stained tears on your face, or when they watched the way you jumped every time a boy with long brown hair and a jean jacket walked in.
You and Steve grew particularly close, both of you bonding over your recent heartbreaks. The two of you never had the intention of starting a romantic relationship with each other, but after spending so much time together and having so much in common, it kind of just happened.
Steve had finally gotten fed up with both living in Hawkins and living with his parents, so he decided to get a place of his own. Feeling the same way, it was only natural that you’d go with him. At least someone wanted you to be part of their plans.
It was finally moving day, and Steve gathered a couple of his friends to help you guys pack and load everything into the back of the BMW. It also gave you guys time to say your goodbyes before you start living like true adults. You weren’t going to be too far from Hawkins, but you knew you weren’t going to have as much time to visit as you’d like.
“All right babe, I think that’s the last of it.” Steve says, shutting the trunk full of boxes. You smile and nod before turning to the gang.
“My god I can’t believe you guys are leaving me.” Robin blurted, pulling you in for a hug. “Now who’s going to help me pick out cute girls at the store?”
You chuckled, “I guess you’ll have to leave that to Keith.” Robin makes a gagging noise before pulling Steve in for a hug as well.
“Hey, you.” You look at Dustin, seeing tears trying to form in his eyes. “We’re only going to be 30 minutes away. And you can visit anytime you want.” You reassure him, rubbing his shoulder.
“Just sucks. First Eddie and now you guys…” He trails off. You feel a pit in your stomach at the mention of his name. No one really talked about him around you, not wanting to bring up the pain again. “Shit. Sorry.”
You smile, shaking your head. “It’s okay Dusty Bun.” You wrap your arms around him, squeezing tight. “I’ll be back soon.”
You turn to the sound of keys jingling, looking to see Steve motioning you into the car. You say your final goodbyes before hopping in the passenger seat.
The drive is quiet. Nothing but the radio and the sound of cars passing by. Your head is leant up against the window, watching the Hawkins trees slowly disappear in the car mirror.
Steve takes notice, placing a hand on your thigh. “You okay?” You jump at his sudden touch.
“Y-yeah i’m fine.” You place your hand over his and flash a smile. You weren’t fine. You couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. It wasn’t Dustin’s fault for bringing him up, but ever since you heard his name leave his mouth, it’s all you could think about.
About how he was supposed to be the one you got an apartment with. He was supposed to be the one you left Hawkins with. He was supposed to be the one you started the rest of your life with. But you had to push that all behind you. You had Steve now, and Eddie wasn’t coming back. It had been 7 months for christ’s sake.
Finally reaching the apartment complex, Steve stays behind to fill out the remaining paperwork while you start to bring the boxes inside. The apartments are decent, not glamorous by any means, but definitely the nicest units you and Steve could afford.
You were walking up the stairs to your new home, box in hand when you heard a familiar voice. It caught you off guard. You knew that voice. It sounded just like Eddie, but you brushed it off thinking it could never be him.
You set the box down outside the door before running back to the car to grab another box. Walking back up the stairs, you see a tall man with long curly hair and a leather jacket on. There’s absolutely no way it’s him. At least that’s what you thought. He turned to face you when he heard your footsteps, and the both of you stopped dead in your tracks.
“Y/N?” He questioned. You could feel the heat rushing to your head, trying to figure out if this was reality or if you were dreaming. “Hey… it’s me.”
“Eddie.” You blurt out, blinking your eyes rapidly to see if you could wake yourself up. It doesn’t work, and you’re faced with quite possibly the worst thing that could happen to you on this day. “Hi.”
“Hey… uh what are you doing here?” He scratches the back of his neck, looking you up and down.
“Uh i’m moving in.” You respond, holding the box up for him to see. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh… uh my uncle moved in here, needed to leave Hawkins.” Of course he did. Something the two of them had in common.
“Oh nice nice. Uh- I should really start moving these in.” You try to walk past him to your door before he puts a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.
“Wait. Can we talk?”
“I don’t know what you’d want to talk about Eddie. You left, I moved on, that’s that.”
“I don’t want that to be it.” He’s staring into your eyes, and you see the remorse behind his brown corneas.
“You left me Eddie. You left me and you didn’t write, didn’t call, didn’t visit. I don’t know what else you want from me.” You pushed past him, setting the box down with the others.
“I know I did, trust me I know. But, I waited for you. I know I hurt you and I wanted to give you space but- I thought you’d reach out eventually.”
“Why would I do that? 3 years Eddie. That’s how long we were together until you threw it all away. Until- until you broke my heart.” You feel the tears creeping up, trying to suppress them. “And i’m sorry but I deserve better than that. I deserve someone who isn’t going to just throw me away like I never existed.”
He hangs his head in shame, taking in what you’re saying to him. And he knows it’s true. All of it. He knows you deserve better. He looks down at the boxes and points to one of them. “Why does that say Steve on it?”
Shit.
“Uh that’s my boyfriends.” You shyly explain.
“Boyfriend? Who-uh-who’s Steve? Where is he?” You now see the tears starting to form in his own eyes.
“Steve Harrington.”
“King fucking Steve? Seriously?” He yells, but it’s not an angry yell. It’s a yell of sadness. The realization that he lost his chance.
“Yeah. King Steve.” You almost chuckle at the nickname.
“You guys are living here… together?”
“I mean that’s the plan, yeah.” You respond.
“So it’s really over, isn’t it?” This time he can’t hold back his tears. Letting all of the emotions he’s held in up to this point flow out.
You look at him, the man you thought you would spend the rest of your life with, and he’s broken. You don’t know what LA did to him, but you knew it wasn’t good. He would’ve never acted like this before he left and you knew that. You can’t respond with words, just your eyes. But he understands.
Suddenly, you hear footsteps and look to find Steve coming up the steps. Finally. He’s carrying a car seat in his hand, sleeping baby sat inside of it.
“Whose baby is that?” Eddie questions the both of you. You look at Steve, who’s looking between you and Eddie.
Fuck.
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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months
Text
“Neither of you are getting it.”
Twin sighs come from his laptop speakers. Lance lifts his head up from where he’s smushed it into his pillow to glare at his two best friends who apparently hate him, for some reason.
“I mean, there’s not much to get,” Pidge says. “You’re a big dumb gay loser and this predicament effects you emotionally.” She looks at Hunk as if to ask, right?, and Hunk, who is a traitor of the worst kind, shrugs in agreement.
“I don’t even get what you’re worried about, man. You have consistently been the one to get him the best gifts for years. None of us even try to beat you.”
“That’s the point!” Lance shrieks. “You’re not listening! I had ideas every other year, Hunk! This year I have nothing!” He taps his head aggressively. “There is not one thing in here! Nada!”
Pidge snickers. “Well, that’s not new.”
“Can it, Pidgeon.”
Hunk holds his hands up placatingly before the two of them can really start to go at it. “Alright, alright. Pidge, have mercy on him. He’s suffering. Lance —” he falters. “Dude, you walked into that one. Sorry.”
Lance will concede to that point. He kind of set his own trap. But still, he’s having a crisis, Pidge as his best friend should be going easy on him, so he sticks his tongue out at her.
“I just — ugh.” He takes a moment to fluff his pillows back up before falling backwards on them and throwing a hand over his face. This is a ridiculous thing to be so bothered by, and he knows it, but he is. Bothered by it, that is. He hasn’t been this lost since the first year they were in space.
“Lance,” Hunk says gently, startling him. “It’s August, dude. Keith’s birthday is two months away. You really, truly, do not need to be stressing about it.”
Lance’s eyes trace the long-faded glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. His gazes unfocuses on the red-orange star that represents Pollux, which has always been his favourite.
“This will be the first time I’ve seen him in months,” Lance says quietly. “I want him —” he swallows. The dryness of his throat makes his voice scratchy. “I want to be perfect.”
It. He had meant to say, I want it to be perfect. Because that’s what he wants — he wants Keith to get here safely and actually be able to stay this time and nothing to go wrong and him to celebrate his birthday surrounded by his loved ones, his friends and family. And — Lance. Wants to be there. Also.
He swallows again. It’s harder this time.
“He’s going to love anything you give him,” Pidge says, uncharacteristically soft. “You know he’s just going to be glad to see you upright and in one piece.”
Lance winces and the strained quality of her voice, the sudden darkness in Hunk’s expression. He knows he’s the cause of it.
It was hard on the team, his death.
He knows it was. That’s why he never talks about it. (They were never supposed to even know about it. When Lance’s soul was yanked back into his body and Allura gasped in relief and hugged him to her chest and sobbed out, I thought I was too late, Lance clamped his mouth shut and kept it that way. When he had rare moments on their long trip home where the adrenaline began to fade and he felt his heart begin to slow, he picked fights. He ran sims. He made stupid decisions. He kept his body distracted and his mind wound so tightly around Red’s that there was no chance for it to slip, to remember what had happened to him, to fade back into that dark and silent place. He kept his mouth shut and kept his quintessence dragged up to the highest level he could bring it.
And when they defeated Sendak, and they had to sacrifice their lions or sacrifice their friend, Lance’s hands shook and he made the obvious choice. And he doesn’t know what happened, when the adrenaline finally faded and the one thing keeping him tethered to their plane disappeared, but he knows when his soul was yanked back into his body, permanently this time, his friends wouldn’t answer his questions or let him out of their sight and all of them had the same haunted look to their eyes. He has never had the strength to ask. But he has been careful with himself, since. He covers his Altean marks — a testament of how much Allura gave of herself to keep him alive — and keeps his feet planted on Earth and out of danger and knows that he owes it to them to keep himself safe.)
“Well, anything I could give him would be better than what you got him last year,” Lance says loudly, beating back the oppressive silence that has fallen over them. It works — Pidge scowls at him, remembering the plant she had got him that had turned out to be highly toxic to any Galra. Hunk snickers at the memory of the bright blue hives that had covered Keith’s skin for weeks.
“How was I to know?” Pidge cries. Hunk and Lance’s increasing laughter only seems to make her angrier “He — ugh! It doesn’t matter, anyway, because you handmade him a leather sheath for his knife so he wasn’t looking at what I was giving him anyway! Shut up! Ugh!”
“It’s true,” Hunk agrees, chuckling. “We should make you gift stuff last. It’s not fair and makes everyone else look bad. He couldn’t take his eyes off that sheath, last year. He still wears it every day.”
Pidge mutters something in her hand that sounds suspiciously like “he couldn’t take his eyes off of someone,” so Lance ignores her in favour of whining again.
“Yeah, well, there’s no point this year because I’ve got nothing. I started making that sheath in June. I started making his jacket from two years ago in March. But this year I didn’t have any ideas and now I don’t have the time, even if I do come up with something. ” He sighs, defeated. “It sucks. I’ve hardly seen him outside of a computer screen and I’m only going to see him less, and I can’t even give him something to remember me by.”
“You’re talking like you’re never going to see him again,” Pidge points out. “There would be way less pressure if you just — saw him more, dude.”
Lance scoffs. “Yeah, right. Lemme just pack up and run off to space with him. Boom, all problems solved.”
He blinks.
He sits up so fast he very nearly brains himself on his bed frame.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. He looks over at his friends, who are smiling widely. His heart pounds.
Holy shit.
“I gotta go,” he shouts, scrambling to grab his laptop.
“Goodbye, Lance,” Hunk says, rolling his eyes fondly.
Pidge makes a crude gesture at him because she’s the worst. “Bye, gay pining loser!”
He slams the laptop lid shut and holds it tightly to his chest. Everything, finally, starts to click into place — Lance smiles; small at first, but quickly his mouth spreads so wide his cheeks ache, and his eyes practically squish shut.
He knows what to do.
———
On the morning of October 23rd, he is stressing.
“You’re embarrassing,” calls Allura, from where she‘s been lazing on the couch and eating pineapples for the last three days.
“I regret asking for your help,” Lance grunts, struggling to lift a sack of flour. He side eyes her. “Especially because you’re supposed to be helping, Miss Superstrength.”
Allura snorts, shoving another chunk of pineapple in her mouth. “I am helping. If I wasn’t here you would have talked yourself out of this several times over. You’re welcome!”
“Ugh,” Lance says, because she’s right and he knows it. “I’m not letting you lick the spoon.”
“What? Hey!”
He does let her lick the spoon. Because he has no discipline. But to her eternal credit she does actually help, too, and in more ways than just picking him up and physically shaking him out of his many freak outs, and he has a lot of them.
He’s been planning this for weeks. There are so many aspects, so many moving parts, that it’s just — stressful. Trying to put together a party that balances all the people who want to come together and celebrate Keith’s 25th with every single time constraint and restoration effort and even Keith’s own discomfort with too much fanfare is…a lot. Plus all the actual stuff that goes into hosting people at a party — Lance absolutely would not be able to do any of this without Allura’s help. She is, after all, his best friend, even though she drives him crazy and always has, in more ways than one.
At eleven thirty, when all the (tasteful, despite what his siblings had insisted was too boring) decorations have been set up and most of the food has been prepared, Allura clasps her palms to his cheeks and says, “Lance, breathe.”
Lance looks at her with wide eyes and says, “I’m cancelling everything.”
“You’re not.”
“I am. I can’t do this. What was I thinking? This is — cringe. Ridiculous.” His chest shakes on an inhale. “What was I thinking, ‘Llura?”
She hums thoughtfully. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones, wiping away the makeup that covers his Altean marks, making Lance twitch but not move.
“You were thinking,” she says quietly, “about how long it has been since everyone has been on the same planet.”
He swallows. “Yeah.”
“And how much we have all missed each other.
His shaking hands come up to grip her wrists, breath shuddering as he exhales.
“Yes.”
“And. Maybe. How much you miss Keith.” She pulls her hands away from his face and wraps them around his hands. “How much you miss the stars, even.”
“I’m scared,” he admits.
She squeezes his hands. “When has that stopped you?”
———
It’s three thirty and there’s still no sign of Keith.
Shiro and the rest of the Atlas crew, including Hunk and Veronica, arrived arrived sometime around one. The Holts came in right on their heels. Kolivan, Krolia, and a few other Blades Keith has kept up with over the years showed up a few hours ago. Lance’s family has been here the whole time, and Coran and Romelle came with Allura. Everyone that Lance had invited to come is here.
Except the one person Lance actually wants to come.
“Lance,” Shiro greets, somehow sensing his anxiety like the guru goody goody he is and popping up next to him.
Lance smiles anyway. He’s missed him too much to do anything else — he hasn’t seen anyone on the Atlas since their last restock, ten weeks ago.
“Hey, Shiro.”
“You freaking out?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’d be shocked if you weren’t, you walking Xanax advertisement.”
That startles a laugh out of Lance, and he shoves him, grateful for the distraction. Shiro grins wide and throws an arm around him, guiding him away from the front door — where he’s been biting his nails and staring at the sky in anxious hope for the last twenty minutes — and back to the rest of the party, ducking under flailing limbs and the random football that someone has brought out for some reason (Marco, probably).
“He’s gonna come, you know. He’s been excited about it since you invited him. I have received no less than nine hundred and twenty-two texts about it. It’s all very sweet and embarrassing. He’s coming, Lance.”
Lance huffs. “Unless he’s dead or maimed somewhere. I did some quick stat evals and there’s at 37% chance he was attacked on the flight to Earth and is bleeding out as we speak.”
Shiro stops them. He blinks at Lance several times. He sighs.
“You actually need to see a psychiatrist. Genuinely.”
“Nah.”
Shiro flicks him on the forehead, but the fond smile stays affixed to his face. Soon Lance finds himself relaxing, tucked under Shiro’s arm. He’s probably right — he usually is. Keith is chronically late, just as a person. Lance even told him the party started at ten just to make it more likely that he’d show up before everyone left. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be places — he just struggles with the concept of time passing, and also gets distracted a lot. (There are a lot of people who need Keith’s help, after all, and he’s a bleeding heart if Lance has ever known one. All humans are wired to respond to calls for help, but Keith seems almost attuned to them. If Lance thinks about his crooked smile and kind eyes for too long he gets physically nauseous.)
As Lance’s watch ticks its way to four o’clock, a light streaks across the sky, and before Lance knows what he’s doing he ducks under Shiro’s arm and starts running. He flings open the back gate and slides down the sandy hills, barely managing not to trip on rocks and pits in the sand where children have dug little pools. He doesn’t bother to slow as the aircraft makes its fiery descent, confident the pilot will not hit him, and by the time he makes it across the beach his bare feet burn and he’s stepped on a sharp shell and lost his jacket somewhere near the house. But it doesn’t matter, because the craft lands and seconds later the door flings open and Keith comes sprinting out, still clad in armour, hair long and thick and braided back, and he runs at Lance at full speed and they collide at the top of a sand dune and Lance leaps into his arms and Keith loses his balance and they go tumbling down, laughing, Keith’s hand on his waist and Lance’s fingers clutching tightly at his shoulders.
“You made it!” Lance shouts, smile wider than he ever thought capable.
Keith laughs again, full-bodied and relieved, crooked incisors on full display and long neck pulled back as his head rests on the ground.
“I know! I’m late, I’m sorry, I lost track of time and —”
“You always lose track of time,” Lance says warmly. He traces a strand of hair that has loosened from Keith’s braid, brushing it off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear. He stays where he is, half-pinning Keith into the sand, knees on either side of him, re-memorizing the curve of his grin and the indigo of his eyes and the scars on his face and the softness of his gaze. Suddenly his chest aches, painful in the best possible way, and his stomach pits and swirls and butterflies flutter wildly in his abdomen. Heat zaps up his veins and sparks through his arteries. The slowly setting mid-autumn sun casts golden light on Keith’s face and Lance is reminded, again, how breathtaking things are outside of Earth.
“Happy birthday,” he breathes, choking on the words.
Keith’s eyes crinkle. His hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb pressing gently on the gold Altean marks. They curve perfectly around the shape of his fingerprint.
“I missed you, Bluebell.”
Someone huffs. “Yeah, and he nearly killed us trying to get here. Some kind of leader you are, Captain.”
Keith flushes, gently pushing Lance up so he can get up and glare at Ezor properly. “We were fine!”
“We crossed nine hundred million lightyears in two days!”
“I took a shortcut!”
“Through weblum mating grounds!”
Lance punches his friend in the shoulder. Keith pouts at him, wounded.
“You flew through weblum mating grounds?!”
“It was fine!” Keith defends. “It wasn’t even an issue!”
Acxa scoffs incredulously. “We were chased by fourteen weblums at once, Kogane.”
“But did you die?”
All three of Keith’s crew roll their eyes. Keith crosses his arms smugly. Lance loves him so fiercely that it hurts.
“Keith!”
With what Lance can only call divine instinct, he has enough forethought to throw himself out of the way before a five foot nothing blur throws herself at Keith’s person and sends them both crashing to the ground, significantly more painfully that Keith and Lance’s whole thing. Keith groans loudly, but Pidge doesn’t even give him half a second to complain, dragging him back upright and hugging him properly. Keith, softie that he is, hugs her back immediately, smiling into her hair.
“Hey, Pidge.”
“Happy birthday, loser! Birthday beats!”
She, immediately, starts to let him have it, impervious to Keith’s yelps. He attempts to squirm away, but Zethrid, lover of violence and also loud supporter of Pidge in general, firmly clamps onto his shoulder to allow Pidge to assault him in peace.
“That was twenty-six!” he says in outrage when she finishes.
She smiles pleasantly. “You were late.”
Hunk, thankfully, chooses that moment to jog over, carrying an ice pack because he’s an angel and also a genius.
“Figured Pidge would come in fists swinging,” he jokes, leaning down to hug Keith tightly. “Happy birthday, man. It’s been too long.”
“It’s been two weeks,” Keith protests, but he looks like he agrees.
It doesn’t take long for the rest of the party to flock over, despite the fact that it would be much easier for everyone to just wait for Keith to walk over to them. Lance isn’t surprised — it’s not like he could wait, after all. When Keith is around, people gather. Such is the way of the world.
He smiles at the crowd of Keith’s loved ones, and especially at the bewilderment on his face. It’s been years, but Lance knows that he still gets surprised when he’s reminded how big his family has gotten. It’s nice to see that reminder written all over his face. He edges out of the smattering of people and starts to head back to the house, figuring he might as well start setting up the table to get dinner started now that Keith’s here. Most of it is already cooked and keeping warm in the oven, but he figured it would be best to wait until everyone was ready to —
“Hey, Lance, wait up.”
He startles when a hand wraps its way around his wrist, relaxing when he recognises the calloused fingers and leather-covered palm. Keith jogs over the rest of the way now that he has Lance stopped, falling into step next to him.
“What’re you doing?” Lance asks, looking at him urgently. “Go say hi to everyone!”
Keith shrugs. “I’ll get there.” He flashes another smile at Lance and it’s crooked and familiar and Lance is weak in the knees. “I started an argument about human versus Altean time measuring systems. Everyone is now picking sides. They won’t notice I’m gone for the next ten minutes at least. I’m all yours, Sharpshooter.”
Lance resists the urge to bury himself in the sand and die of mortification. There’s actually no physical reason for Keith to look the way that he does. It’s — too much. The smouldering eyes and sturdy shoulders are one thing, but with the whole — grin and hair and wide hands and fucking — everything else; it’s too much. It’s a lot. Keith should maybe — wear a mask, or something. Or a hood. Or be more of a klutz, just so he’s humbled slightly.
“Oh,” Lance croaks, trying desperately not to focus on the way Keith’s hand is still holding onto Lance. “That’s — cool.”
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
Blue, Red, if your spirits are still kicking around somewhere, send help, he prays at the heavens.
Apparently they are, because the heavens do indeed provide.
The air in front of the sparks and warps, flashing blue so bright Lance had to squeeze his eyes shut. He hears a loud bark, and opens his eyes again just in time to catch the ball of fur and floof that throws himself into his arms.
“Kosmo!” he cries, pulling away from Keith in his haste to hug the space-wolf tightly. Kosmo yips in delight, covering Lance’s face in dog slobber as he wiggles around in excitement. “Oh, buddy, I was wondering where you were! Mwah! Mwah mwah mwah!”
“He saw the crowd on the descent and got nervous,” Keith explains, scratching Kosmo’s fur fondly. “He was hiding in the back, huh, buddy?”
“Like father like son,” Lance teases. He adjusts the big dog into his arms so he’s half on his shoulders, panting right next to his ear and giving him gross slobbery kisses every three seconds.
“I do not hide from crowds,” Keith huffs. “And he can walk, Lance. Don’t baby him. He’s always spoiled after he hangs out with you.”
“You do so. And of course I spoil the little baby!” Lance coos, scratching under his chin. Kosmo howls in excitement, tail thumping hard against Lance’s hip. “Who’s the bestest boy? Who is my favourite in the whole big universe? It’s you! Yes, Kosmo-baby, it’s you! Good boy!”
“He’s not your favourite,” Keith grumps.
“Yes he is! Oh, yes he is!”
He coos over Kosmo for the whole walk back to the house, only setting him down when they make their way to the kitchen. Keith grabs the dog gently under the ear when he finally stands on his own, bending down to look him straight in the eyes.
“Kosmo,” he says quietly, angling himself slightly away from Lance, “remember what we Talked About.” He stares at the wolf for several moments. “You know. About the — thing.”
Amazingly, the dog seems to bark in understand. Keith nods in satisfaction, patting him on the head. “Good. Go do.” With a poof Kosmo disappears again, leaving just the two of them in the kitchen.
Lance pouts. “Aw. I wanted to spend more time with him. I haven’t seen him in months.”
Keith looks affronted. “You haven’t seen me in months!”
Lance turns away to hide his smile, busying himself with the food. “Eh.” He waves an oven-mitt-clad hand dismissively. “I text you all the time.
“You’re a bully,” Keith pouts. “You’re being mean to me on my birthday.”
“At the party I put together for you, dweeb. Don’t you pout at me.”
In response, Keith inserts himself into Lance with the guise of helping him plate and pouts harder.
“Bully,” he emphasizes.
Lance flicks him on the nose. Keith catches his hand and holds it hostage between two of his, rubbing his thumb along the bump of Lance’s wrist. Lance considers screaming.
“Help or get out of my kitchen,” he manages instead.
Smirking, Keith does, loading garlic knots onto a plate and stealing several, thinking he’s slick. He’s not — Lance notices, but it’s Keith’s birthday and Lance also ate like six already, so he lets it slide.
They have everything ready to go in under five minutes, loading up as much as they can carry and heading outside to set it all out. Everyone else is back by the time they get there, and Hunk and Shiro scramble to come help set up. Very quickly the party is in full swing, people eating and laughing and wishing Keith a thousand happy birthdays. Keith has always claimed to hate attention and crowds, but he’s — glowing, really. His smile doesn’t leave his face. Maybe it’s that he’s older and maybe it’s that he knows everyone. But more likely it’s the easy confidence that’s grown in him over the years, sprouting from the knowledge that he is good and he is kind and he is loved, and trusting everyone who assures him this is true. Lance remembers when he hunched his shoulders and scowled at anyone who looked at him too long. Now he smiles when someone calls his name.
There’s no rhyme or reason to the party. Lance had attempted to plan it, but given up quickly — he knows his people. They’ll flutter around something until inspiration hits and they’ll flutter around something else. The only constant has been food and loading Kosmo up with affection.
As the sun begins its journey below the horizon, someone — Adam — forces Keith into a random lawnchair and says, “Open your gifts, gremlin.”
Immediately, everyone else clambers to grab their gifts and gather around, ignoring Keith’s protests of “I’m twenty-five goddamn years old, I don’t need gifts, you people waste your time and money —” and arguing over who goes first.
Adam goes first. Obviously.
Despite Keith’s grumbling, he’s very obviously touched. He gets a range of things, from a fancy knife from his mother (again) to a framed photo from Shiro, with he and Adam grinning widely at a camera as a young Keith snores in Shiro’s lap. Keith starts bawling some time around gift number three and never really stops. Lance tries to hand him tissues, but after he uses up an entire box decides to let him be a big emotional dork in piece.
“Is this a crystal from the first Balmera we ever visited,” Keith sobs.
Hunk smiles, amused. “It is.”
He makes his way over to Keith’s lawn chair and hugs him tightly for several minutes, muttering something and pressing dozens of kisses into his hair. Keith holds him tightly. Lance himself cries on several occasions, but he’s not alone.
“I just love everyone so much,” Keith blubbers.
“Here we go,” teases Allura, but she’s the one to shoo everyone out of his space to give him a break. “Take a few minutes, darling. Gather yourself. Let me know when you’re up for company again.”
Keith nods at her gratefully. Kosmo makes his way onto Keith’s lap and plants himself there, curling up and laying his head on Keith’s knees. Lance sits on the lawn chair next to Keith, offering him a glass of water that he accepts gratefully.
“I do this every year,” Keith laments, attempting to dry his eyes.
Lance pats him delicately on the hand. “Don’t worry. It’s charming.”
Keith sniffles. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Yes.”
Lance is the only one who hasn’t given Keith his present. Well, and Allura, technically, since she’s part of it. Part of him wants to do it now, get it over with. He even finds the words for it, but then Pidge hollers something about cake, and Keith, who has the biggest sweet tooth in the entire universe, brightens, looking at Lance hopefully, and Lance swallows it down.
“Go sit at the table,” Lance orders. “I’m doing candles and you’re blowing them out.”
“That’s babyish,” Keith protests stubbornly.
“No candles, no cake.”
“Ugh.”
Keith gets up and goes to sit at the table, Kosmo pattering after him.
Smiling to himself, cheeks redder than he would like, Lance ducks back into the kitchen, digging around the cupboards for the candles he bought the other day and carefully pulling the cake out of the fridge.
It’s chocolate-chocolate-chocolate-chocolate. Quadruple chocolate. It’s chocolate cake with chocolate custard and chocolate frosting covered in chocolate decorations. What it is is sugar on a platter, and Keith will devour it. Lance spent more hours than he’s willing to admit on making it. If anyone questions him even a little he is going to die on the spot.
He carefully sticks twenty six candles — one for wishing — on the top of the cake, lighting twenty-five of them. Everyone is already sat down by the time he walks back outside, and the second Coran sees them he starts singing loudly, and everyone else is quick to join in. As much as Keith tries to roll his eyes about the truly startling amount of flame on his cake, nothing he can do can hide the obvious excitement that lights up his face upon sight of the chocolate monstrosity. He takes a deep breath and blows out the candles when the song ends, extinguishing all but one. Immediatey, a ripple of teasing snickers and ooooooou’s fill the air.
“One candle left! You’re gonna get a boyfriend this year!” Pidge shouts, looking directly at Lance.
Both Keith and Lance flush up to their foreheads.
“Cut the cake!” Allura shouts, because she is a true ally and Lance loves her.
Grateful for the distraction, Lance does, nudging Keith out of the way when he tries.
“If you cut the cake then you can’t get the first slice, dorkbrain. Sit down. Let me.”
He does let Lance cut the cake, which makes Lance feel touched for some reason. God, Shiro is right. He needs a psychiatrist. He hates it when Shiro is right.
He’s very smug to receive dozens of compliments on his cake, highest of all from Keith, who scarfs down his first piece in literal seconds (thirty seven, to be exact). He has several more. There will be no leftovers.
But Lance knew that.
It doesn’t take long for people to start milling about again; finishing their dessert and picking at the various fruit trays and chatting and watching the last rays of sun disappear. Lance twitches nervously, stealing glances at Keith, until Allura walks up to him, pinches him on the shoulder, and says, “Get your quiznak together.”
And Lance grumbles, “Yeesh, woman. Alright,” and forces himself to walk over to Keith, who is spinning some hugely exaggerated story to Nadia and Sylvio.
“Children,” Lance says when Keith finally takes a breath, “Tío Lance has to talk to Keith about boring adult things. Go harass your Tío Marco, it will be fun.”
“Quieres tiempo a solas con tu nooooooovioooooo,” the twins singsong in unison, and then run away cackling. Lance flushes bright red and considers pelting strawberries at them like the little shits deserve.
“What was that?” Keith asks, bewildered.
“Probable cause,” Lance mutters darkly.
Keith snorts. “Please don’t murder your niblings.”
“That’ll be my gift to you. Not committing homicide on your birthday.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, not really.”
Keith raises his eyebrows. “You mean…” He gestures vaguely at everything. “This isn’t already my gift?”
Lance shrugs.
“Lance, come on! This is more than enough. It must have taken you weeks to prepare.” He shakes his head, looking at Lance with soft, kind eyes. “You always do so much for me.”
Lance shudders, weak under Keith’s gaze.
“I like to.” He pauses. “I miss you. Always. It — fills the time, to do things for you.”
Keith reaches up and brushes some sand from Lance’s hair. He lingers, after, tracing his fingers along the shell of his ear, resting his hand against Lance’s neck. Lance closes his eyes, leaning into it, letting himself have this affection he’s craved like nothing else for months.
“I miss you, too. Constantly. Sometimes you’re all I think about, up there.” He sighs, and Lance can hear the tired, enticing smile on his face. “Wish you were watching my back again, Sharpshooter. No one else does it quite like you.”
Lance forces his eyes open again, although he can’t bring himself to meet Keith’s eyes. He traces the crooked line of his nose, instead, the tilt of his thick brows.
“You going back tonight?”
“Nah, I’ll stay a couple days. I’ve got nothing pressing for another week.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him, chants the Allura that lives in his head.
Give me a goddamn second, he snaps back at it.
“Uh, Allura and I have been. Working. On a project.”
Keith tilts his head. “Oh?”
“Yeah, she’s here a lot. Obviously.” He gestures to his Altean marks, which he has just remembered are uncovered. He’s fine — all systems are running and he is a-okay. But his situation was a little different than Shiro’s. A little more Frankenstein. Lance depends on quintessence heavier than anyone else — he’s probably fine to make his own and live his life, but…he’s always struggled with depression. And Allura worries. So she wormholes to Earth regularly to hang out and make sure he’s not too low.
They have a lot of time to scheme, the Blue Paladins of Voltron.
“Obviously,” Keith agrees. Unlike everyone else, he doesn’t avoid looking at his marks; doesn’t wince when he’s reminded of them. The only change in his eyes is a look of determination, a renewed intensity in which he watches Lance. It’s a little bit intoxicating.
“I love Earth,” Lance says quietly. “It will always be my home. I will always want to come back here. I want to die here.” He finally meets Keith’s eyes. “But.”
Keith’s eyes are wide. The hand still resting on the curve of Lance’s neck twitches, slightly.
“But?” he asks, breathless.
“I’ve been helping her organize plans for a castleship. A little smaller than the old one, but — you know. Similar. It’s something to do. I’ll feel better knowing you guys are together, up there, fighting as a team together. There’s the Atlas, but it’s not the same. It’s not Voltron.”
“Oh.” Some of the excitement dims from Keith’s expression, although he takes great care to keep the smile firmly on his face. “That’s great, Lance. I miss the castle too. It’ll be a little more stable, and missions will —”
“And I’m coming with you,” Lance blurts.
Keith freezes.
“To space. Permanently. Um, mostly. I still want to come back to Earth and see my mom and everybody but you know. I miss everybody. I’m lonely. And being a farmer is actually super duper boring. No offense to farmers, but I want to shoot shit again. I even miss training, which is crazy, because I hate training —”
“Lance,” Keith says, and Lance says “Yeah?” and then he’s being pulled forward and Keith’s other hand comes to rest on his hip and he is being kissed.
“Oh,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut and words fading from his brain. His hands slide into Keith’s hair without his conscious thought, and he tilts his head and lets Keith devour him as the butterflies storm in his stomach and kisses Keith back like he will get all the breath he needs from Keith’s lungs. His head spins and his knees go weak and Keith smells like pine and sandalwood and his lips are chapped and his hands are calloused and it’s the most wonderfully strange mix of foreign and familiar, bexause Lance knows all these things, but he has never known them in this way.
“Finally!” someone shouts, and soon there are wolf whistles and catcalls and Keith’s smile is pressed against his and Lance can feel the press of his crooked incisors against his bottom lip and he could live off the sensation.
“Happy birthday,” he whispers, half-drowned out by the noise of their teasing friends.
“Exactly as I wished it to be,” Keith whispers back, and then kisses him again and again and again.
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worth-the-chaos · 3 months
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Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 12
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Chapter Summary: The evil that you thought you had gotten rid of is still very much lurking within Hawkins. You, your boyfriend, and your friends race against time to try and find Eddie before it’s too late.
Content Warning: swearing, violence, knives and blood, jealous Steve
Word Count: 6.5k
Author’s Note: This chapter is starting to get season 4 going, so that’s pretty epic. I hope you guys enjoy it and thank you so much for reading it <3
Message me to be added to the taglist! Also, send me asks! Tell me shit, ask me questions, y’all are fun to talk to ;)
Series Masterlist | Part 11 | Next Part
***
Your Saturday started out like any normal Saturday. Steve peppered soft kisses to your skin as you woke up from your comfortable slumber wrapped in his arms. You ate breakfast together and got ready before picking up Robin and making your way to Family Video. It had taken a significant amount of convincing to get Keith to let the three of you work together, considering there was really only enough work for two people to do, but he finally agreed to it since, in his own words, “Steve barely even counts.”
You all were reorganizing the shelves as Robin recounted her conversation with Vickie at the basketball game the night prior. “Then Vickie laughed. And it wasn’t like a cheap fake laugh either. It was like…it was a real, genuine laugh!”
“Of course she laughed, Rob. It’s my muppet joke. It’s hilarious,” Steve replied as he restocked the horror section. You rolled your eyes from your perch on the counter, glaring up at him as you stopped sorting out the returned movies.
“My point is that Vickie laughed, and everything was just like…it was perfect! But I’m having this problem where it’s like, I should stop talking. I have said everything I need to say, but then I guess I get nervous and the words keep spilling out, and it’s like my-my brain is moving faster than my mouth or…or rather my-my mouth is moving faster than my brain, and…and it’s like I’m digging this hole for myself, and I want to stop digging and I’m trying to stop digging, but I can’t, and I’m doing it right now, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, you are,” you responded, looking at her with a great deal of sympathy. You knew how she was feeling. You couldn’t even count the amount of times that you had rambled on and on to Steve about something so completely and utterly stupid because you didn’t know when to stop.
“Ugh, I’m hopeless,” Robin backed up against the wall, throwing her head back in exasperation.
“Robin! Don’t say that; you are not hopeless,” you scolded your best friend, “I mean, look. I was completely and utterly hopeless before Steve and I started dating…like if he hadn’t shown up and the planets hadn’t aligned, I’d be single as fuck right now, but everything that the two of us have, started with us just being friends. So, the fact that you’re talking to Vickie and she clearly at least likes you in that capacity is a really damn good sign.”
“I wouldn’t say you would be hopeless, I mean, guys are pretty much throwing themselves at you,” Steve mumbled under his breath, thinking back to how you had interacted with Eddie the night before. You had seemed so comfortable with him and he hated to admit it, but the two of you looked like you belonged together far more than you did with him. Eddie marched to the beat of his own drum. He dressed different, he acted different, he didn’t go with the crowd or hop on the bandwagon. You were exactly the same. Sometimes Steve worried that you would wake up and realize that he was way too stereotypical and boring for you and that you would leave him. He pushed the thought aside as you spoke up.
“What do you mean?” Before Steve could answer, Robin began rushing across the room.
“Oh! I think I found our morning movie!” She held up a copy of Doctor Zhivago.
“Ugh, you know I don’t do double VHS,” Steve groaned, shaking his head as he walked past the counter towards her. You stopped him, smacking him in the chest before he could try and take the tape away from Robin before you spoke up.
“We’d actually love to watch it Robin,” you smiled, your eyes still glaring at Steve. Robin jumped up and down a little bit before turning on the television to get it set up, but all of you paused when the news came on.
“We’re in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County. We don’t have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not yet released the victim’s name…” the reported stated, detailing all the information that was known and released.
“Holy shit,” Steve whispered, his and Robin’s eyes transfixed on the screen. His voice sounded far away as your vision blurred with tears. You could barely breathe as you thought about the only two Hawkins High students you knew that lived there: Max and Eddie. If it was either of them, you weren’t sure what you would do. You weren’t sure how you would be able to live and move on.
You stumbled backwards, and you knocked over a pile of VHS tapes as you blindly grabbed for the edge of the counter, beginning to hyperventilate. Robin and Steve snapped out of the trance the news had put them in, as Steve’s head whipped around towards you just in time as you collapsed to the floor.
“Robin turn that off!” Steve yelled, and she grabbed for the remote, quickly silencing the news. You were in a heap on the floor sobbing, barely able to hear Steve as he quickly sat with you on the floor, rubbing big circles across your back to try and calm you down. “Shhhh, y/n. I’m right here, okay baby….I’m right here with you and I’m not going to go anywhere,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your temple as you cried.
After a while, you finally found the will to calm yourself down, and you had been the one to turn the TV back on. You wanted to know as much as you could. You wanted as much information as possible to rule out the possibility that it was either of your friends. Really the only additional information you got was that it was definitely murder and that the police hadn’t released the names of any suspects, which was a whole lot of nothing to go off of.
You were biting your nails, staring at the screen with furrowed brows, when suddenly the chime of the bell above the door rang out into the otherwise empty store. You jumped, turning around to see Dustin followed by Max Mayfield herself.
“Max!” You shouted as you hopped over the counter and pulled her into a bone crushing hug. She groaned, not expecting the sudden demonstration of how much you cared before she reciprocated.
“Hello to you too, I guess?”
“I’m just so glad you’re okay,” you breathed out, feeling a sense of relief flood your body, knowing that Max wasn’t the unnamed victim from the news. Max was struck by your words, not really even considering the fact that some of her friends may be led to believe that she had been killed based on the location of the murder.
“Are you guys seeing this?” Steve chimed in, pointing to the TV screen in the back corner of the room.
“How many phones do you have?” Dustin asked suddenly. You looked at him with confusion plastered across your face.
“Someone was just murdered,” Steve replied, annoyed that the boy could be asking about phones at a time like this.
Dustin just slammed his hands on the counter in response, causing you to jump again in your anxious state, before he repeated himself. “How many phones do you have?”
“Two…why?” You spoke up, furrowing your brow.
“Technically three, if you count Keith’s in the back,” Robin corrected you, a similar look flashing across her face.
“Three works,” Max spoke up, looking at Dustin. Dustin paused, looking at Steve and Robin behind the counter before throwing his backpack across and hopping it. You and Max were civilized, walking around the counter to join them while Steve protested.
“My tapes! Dude! What are you doing, man?!” Steve groaned. Dustin had a special talent for making things significantly more difficult for Steve…especially at his place of work.
“Setting up base of operations,” Dustin replied, typing into the computer.
You attempted to shove him to the side, away from your computer, but he swatted your hands away. You glared at him with the might of a thousand suns before hip checking him, causing him to stumble to the side. “What the fuck do you guys need our computer for?”
“To look up Eddie’s friends’ phone numbers,” Dustin retorted as if it was obvious.
“Oh Eddie, your new best friend you think is cooler than me because he plays your nerdy game,” Steve grumbled back, but you were only half paying attention as you made eye contact with Max. Clearly the two kids knew something that you didn’t and you were worried what that meant in conjunction with the shit you were hearing on the news.
“I never said that!” Dustin looked at Steve, and you rolled your eyes.
“Seriously, you guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day,” Robin spoke up, reorganizing the shit that Dustin had knocked off the counter.
“Robin, I totally empathize but this cannot wait,” Dustin sighed as he started writing on a clipboard.
“What because calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?”
“Exactly!”
“Do you want me to strangle him or do you want to?” Steve asked you. The chuckle he was about to let out died in his throat when he saw the look on your face.
“I really think we should hear them out,” your voice was small when you replied. You all looked over at Max and she took a deep breath before she began talking.
“The victim…it’s Chrissy Cunningham,” she started, “I saw her body this morning when the police were leaving. The thing is, I saw her go in Eddie’s trailer and shortly after, my TV started going nuts and the lights started flickering like crazy, which isn’t really super out of the ordinary, my electricity is shit….but then I heard screaming and looked out the window and I saw Eddie leave and—and he looked scared. Like really scared.”
Steve reached for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours before he spoke up. “So…Eddie killed Chrissy?”
“Steve! No, he fucking didn’t. That’s why we need the phones so that we can find out where he is so that we can prove that he’s innocent,” Dustin glared at your boyfriend, shoving him a bit.
“Just calm down,” you interjected, standing in between the boys. This was all a lot to unpack and you weren’t going to solve anything if they couldn’t stop bickering. When they both grumbled and crossed their arms, you moved around the counter, swiftly moving to the door and flipping the sign to indicate that the store was closed. “Just, you guys can use the phones, okay? But that’s it. We don’t do anything else until we have something solid to go off of. Do you understand?” You looked between Max and Dustin.
They both began to nod and you shook your head. “No, I need to hear you say it. I’m serious, someone was just killed and we are not putting our lives in jeopardy without some serious cause, okay?”
“Yes, we understand,” Max responded. Dustin spoke up in agreement, and you paused to look at them one more time before turning around.
“I’ll get Keith’s phone from the back. You all start making calls.”
You swiftly headed to the back, grabbing the third phone. You were turning around to leave when you about nearly jumped out of your skin, when you were met face to face with your boyfriend.
“Steve! You scared the shit out of me! Don’t fucking do that!” You put a hand on your chest as you tried to catch your breath.
“Y/n, I don’t have a good feeling about this. I mean, the most likely scenario is that Eddie killed that poor girl and now we’re actively trying to find him. He could be fucking dangerous, and I don’t want anything to happen to you, okay? So, let’s just stop all this bullshit before it’s too late,” he grabbed your hands, rubbing his thumbs along the backs of them as he looked you in the eyes. His brow was furrowed with worry, and you felt a pang in your chest. You knew you had to see this through, if not for Eddie, then for Dustin.
“Steve, I know Eddie. He wouldn’t do something like this. Trust me,” you told Steve, looking him in the eyes with so much conviction that he decided to let it go for now.
You brought the phone out and Hawkins’ Family Video soon became a bustling call center as you all took turns trying to get ahold of anyone who may possibly know where Eddie was. Name after name after name got crossed off your list as you found no answers, and you were beginning to feel hopeless when Max spoke up.
“Hey guys, I might have a lead,” she started, “apparently, Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes Eddie crashes there.”
“Alright, that sounds promising. So where does this Reefer Rick guy live?” Robin asked.
“See, that’s the thing. No one knows. He’s more of a…legend than someone that people actually know.”
“What about a last name?” You spoke up, attempting to find any additional piece of information that you could follow to find Eddie.
“I don’t know that either.”
“I bet the cops know the last name,” Steve spoke up. He hadn’t been super helpful in calling around, instead choosing to reorganize the store and do some light cleaning. He was reorganizing some tapes with his back to you all and he had said it so nonchalantly.
“What?” You questioned him, irritation settling in your tone.
“I said the cops probably know,” he shot back, “I mean, listen, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he’s been busted at some point. Means he’s in the system.”
“The cops? Really, Steve? That’s your suggestion?” Dustin asked incredulously.
“I just think at this point they should be filled in on what we know; what’s going on.”
“You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?” Dustin stepped forward, but you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to settle him. You could hear the hurt in his voice and you wished that Steve hadn’t been the one to cause it, but then again, tensions were high with everything that was going on; like the implications of Max’s account of her electricity going haywire around the time that Chrissy would have died.
“Woah, woah, woah, I believe in innocent until proven guilty and all that constitutional shit…I just, you know….I just don’t think we can rule it out,” Steve spoke up, avoiding making eye contact with any of you as he messed with a Rubik’s cube on the counter.
“Steve!” You scolded him. Why can’t he just take a leap of faith and believe you guys?
“That’s precisely what we’re trying to do here, Steve,” Max spoke up, glaring at the boy.
“And maybe we’d have a little bit more luck if you spent less time reorganizing shit that doesn’t need reorganizing and more time trying to find Eddie,” Dustin chimed in.
“Hey, someone’s gotta make sure things are in order here. Do you see how many fucking movies we have? It can be overwhelming for the average customer,” Steve tried to defend himself.
Suddenly an idea popped into your head, as you darted over to the computer, typing away into the system. “What are you doing?” Max asked.
“Maybe we don’t need a last name,” you started as you pressed enter on the keyboard. “Twelve Ricks already have accounts here…now it’s just a matter of narrowing it down.”
***
After determining the Rick most likely to be the Reefer Rick, you waited until it got dark to go scope the place out. You decided that you’d be more inconspicuous at night, not wanting to draw any attention to yourselves while you tracked down a potential murder suspect.
You were all piled in Steve’s BMW as he pulled into the driveway of one Rick Lipton. You felt nerves settle in your stomach as you tried to take a deep breath, Dustin quickly getting out of the car and ringing the doorbell. No one answered and after Dustin pressed the button repeatedly, Steve put a hand on his shoulder to pull him away from the door.
“Okay. Well, that’s settled, I guess he’s not here,” Steve spoke up. This did nothing to stop Dustin from continuing to pound on the door, yelling for the boy to answer. So much for being inconspicuous, you thought as you walked around the side of the house. Your hands trembled a bit, being a tad anxious about being out here at night, when your flashlight finally caught sight of a boathouse on the lake.
“Hey guys?” You called out. Steve was quick to join you, followed by the rest of the gang as you cautiously approached the metal lined shed. There was no real signs of life in there as you entered, and it seemed just as abandoned as Rick’s house. “Hello? Is anyone home?” You shouted into the darkness as you took a hesitant step inside.
“What a dump,” Steve muttered, taking in the sight of all of the clutter. In his mind, there was no way in hell that Eddie was here, so though he was taking all of this seriously, he wasn’t too committed to really inspecting the place with great detail.
You grabbed an oar off of the wall, walking over to the small boat docked in the center of the room as you shoved at the tarps with it, not wanting to get close just in case something was awry.
“What are you doing?!” Dustin whisper-shouted at you, perplexed by your actions.
“He might be in there,” you answered simply.
“Then take the tarp off!”
“If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off!” You whisper-shouted back at him, though when Dustin moved forward to do just that, you and Steve both yanked him back by his shoulders. You continued to poke at the tarp, and Steve placed a gentle but nervous hand on the small of your back, not wanting to stray too far from you.
Max suddenly spoke up from across the room, pointing her flashlight at some odds and ends on a small table. “Hey, guys. Someone was here.”
“Maybe he heard us? Got spooked and ran?” Robin suggested, joining Robin to inspect the items before her.
“Don’t worry. Y/n will get him with her oar…isn’t that right y/n?” Dustin spoke to you sarcastically. You were glad you had the self control to not swing it at the infuriating child beside you as Steve moved away from you to pull Dustin aside. He didn’t need the two of you arguing with each other. You two bickered like siblings and now wasn’t the time for a pseudo-familial spat.
“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson,” you started, continuing to jab at the tarps, “but considering the fact that everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slight—“
Your words were cut off as a figure under the tarp sprung to life, grabbing you around the shoulders and pushing you against the wall. You heard the familiar flick of a pocket knife, feeling the sharp tip of the metal press against your throat. The boathouse erupted into a chorus of shrieks and screams, as you leaned your head back, unable to breathe as you stared wide-eyed at the boy you were tutoring for physics.
“Woah, woah, woah! Eddie! Eddie, stop!” Dustin shouted. He took a step closer and Eddie pushed you back farther into the wall, letting you all know that he wasn’t playing games. Steve felt like his whole world was crashing down around him. To Steve, Eddie’s actions confirmed that he was dangerous, that he had likely killed Chrissy, and that he was about to do the same thing to you. Steve’s mind was working double time trying to figure out how to get you away from the freak, as he started to take a huge step towards you when Robin roughly grabbed his arm, preventing him from getting any closer.
“Robin let go of me!” He shouted at her, trying to shake out of her grip.
“Steve,” she warned, and the way that she said it made him stop to reevaluate the situation, realizing the closer he got to you, the more he was putting your life in peril. A small cry escaped your lips as you tried to blink back tears, and Steve’s heart sank in his chest. He felt his hands trembling at his sides, wanting nothing more than to hold you and to tell you that everything was going to be okay, but watching as the knife threatened to break the skin of your neck, he wasn’t so sure he even believed the sentiment.
“It’s me, Dustin. This is y/n,” Dustin continued, gesturing to you, “she’s not going to hurt you, right, y/n?”
“Right, yeah,” you barely were able to whisper, the muscles in your neck all tensed as you tried to get as far away from the knife as possible. Your chest heaved as you swallowed and breathed out a shaky breath.
“Y/n, why don’t you drop the oar,” Dustin cautioned. You hadn’t even realized you were still holding it, barely even being able to feel the white knuckled grip you had on the handle. You willed your fingers to let go and as the oar crashed to the floor, the sudden sound caused Eddie to jump, leaning in farther and nicking your neck a bit in the process. You yelped in pain, and Steve started to freak out, unable to control his breathing. Robin continued to try and calm him down, but it wasn’t working super well.
“She’s cool, she’s cool!” Dustin reminded Eddie, still trying to talk him off of a cliff. Steve wished he had trusted his intuition earlier and kept you all far away from Eddie the freak Munson.
“I’m cool, man, I’m cool,” you spoke up, your voice shaky, “I’m helping you in Ms. O’Donell’s class, remember?”
“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, his eyes wild as he refused to let you go.
“We’re looking for you, we’re here to help,” Dustin spoke up, “Eddie, these are my friends. You know Robin, from band. This is my friend Max, the one who never wants to play D&D. And obviously that’s Steve; I know you know him because you hate him, okay? Eddie, we are on your side. I swear on my mother, right guys?” He looked to the three of your friends behind him who all desperately nodded in agreement.
“Yes, yes, we swear!” Robin agree.
“Yeah, on Dustin’s mother,” you squeaked out. Eddie looked at you and you could tell he was acting out of fear. You knew this wasn’t him. That still didn’t quell the fear in your own chest as you spoke up once more to whisper, “please.”
Eddie paused, his eyes searching yours to try and determine your intention. He knew that you were a good person. Hell, you’d been helping him through fucking physics which wasn’t exactly a cake walk. Seeing the terror across your face as you whimpered, however, was what finally broke Eddie, as he finally let you go.
You let out a small cry as the tears you had been attempting to blink back finally spilled down your face while you crumpled to the floor. Steve rushed to your side, sitting on the floor with you, not unlike he had earlier in Family Video when the news came on. Your hand clutched at your neck. Even though Eddie had only just slightly nicked you, your blood had dripped enough to stain the collar of your shirt, and began to seep through your fingers as you held pressure to the cut. It stung like a bitch, but you were more scared than hurt.
“Hey, hey, hey, let me see, okay baby? Can you do that for me?” Steve asked softly, as one of his hands wrapped around the nape of your neck and the other gently tugged on your wrist. You obliged, trembling fingers dropping from your neck as you shook in Steve’s arms.
He used the sleeve of his jacket to put pressure on the cut to attempt to get it to stop bleeding. You took several deep breaths, wiping the tears away from your face as you began to finally calm down. It helped that you knew that Eddie wouldn’t hurt you on purpose. In your mind, he wasn’t a threat in the slightest, just a boy that was scared and needed some comforting.
“Eddie, we just want to talk,” you heard Dustin’s voice ring out in the empty boathouse. Eddie looked like a mess as he sat in a heap on the floor, looking equal parts defeated and terrified. Dustin tried to take the knife away from him, but Eddie tightened his grip so Dustin relented.
“We just want to know what happened,” you breathed out, your voice still shaky as you continued to calm down.
“You won’t believe me,” Eddie sniffled. You moved out of Steve’s grasp despite his protests, putting a gentle hand on Eddie’s shoulder. He tensed up but soon relaxed into your touch.
“Try us,” you replied. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the look on your face or the sincerity in your voice, but he decided in that moment that he could trust you guys.
He began by explaining that she was at his house so that he could sell to her, discussing how everything had been fine and normal…until it very much wasn’t.
“…her body just, like, lifted up into the air and, uh…and she just, like, hung there. And her bones…uh, she…her bones started to snap. Her eyes, man…it-it was like there was something inside her head pulling,” he whimpered with a faraway look in his eyes, “I…I-I didn’t know what to do, so I…I ran away…I-I left her there,” he scoffed, “you all think I’m crazy, right?”
“No, we don’t think you’re crazy,” Dustin began to assure him, but Eddie quickly cut him off.
“Don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds!”
You moved in between Eddie and Dustin, pushing Dusting behind you protectively. “Hey, we’re not bullshitting you,” you started, your tone leaning on frustrated, “we believe you and we’re probably the only people who fucking will, so I would suggest you find a way to calm down and shut the fuck up because what I’m about to tell you might be difficult to take.”
“Okay,” Eddie finally said. No one was really expecting you to be that blunt about things, but it needed to be said.
“You know how people say Hawkins is…cursed?” You started, trying to find the right words. Eddie nodded. “They’re not…way off. There’s another world; a world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it bleeds into ours,” your hand subconsciously went to the cut on your neck, the bleeding having finally trickled to a stop.
“Like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked hesitantly.
“There are some things worse than ghosts,” Max spoke up quietly, and you felt a chill creep up your spine as she said it.
“These monsters from this other world,” Dustin continued, “we thought that they were gone, but they’ve come back before and that’s why we needed to find you.”
“If they’re back again, we need to know,” you emphasized.
“That night, did you see anything?” Robin questioned. You all waited with bated breath for Eddie’s answer. You were afraid of what he might say and Steve stepped forward and grabbed your hand, sensing your anxiety.
“No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh…touch,” Eddie responded, “you know, I tried to wake her man, but she couldn’t move. It was like she was…she was in a trance or something.”
“Or under a spell…Vecna’s curse,” Dustin whispered.
“Who’s Vecna?” Steve asked, pulling you into his chest. He needed something to hold onto.
“An undead creature of great power,” Dustin answered and you shuddered thinking about it. You had thought you got rid of whatever entity was calling the shots from the Upside Down, but maybe you were wrong.
Maybe everything that had happened before was merely the beginning.
***
You all had taken turns recounting the last two years worth of events to Eddie as he sat there in silence trying to take it all in. After everything that he had seen, he really had no choice but to believe you guys, glad that you were all on his side. You promised the boy that you would be back with supplies in the morning, swiftly piling back into Steve’s car.
“Hey, you know when we had that really sweet convertible and I had you drive it up that big ass hill so we could use my radio?” Dustin suddenly spoke up.
“Yeah?” Steve responded, not quite sure where the boy was going with this.
“Well, bad news is we’re gonna need to go use it again before we all go home because I have an idea, but good news is that it’s at my house now so that’s cool.”
Steve sighed and you all silently made your way to Dustin’s house. There wasn’t much to talk about. You tiptoed through his kitchen to avoid waking his mother as you all crept up to his bedroom. He started messing with all his radio equipment as you sat on his bed. While he was searching for the right frequency, Steve darted out of the bedroom and into the hall bathroom, opening the cabinet under the sink and rifling through it. He found what he was looking for and quietly slipped back into Dustin’s bedroom.
“Here,” he said as he sat down next to you. You looked at him confused until you saw that he had a first aid kit in his hands. He took out an alcohol wipe and started cleaning up the dried blood on your neck. You hissed when the wipe touched your cut, the alcohol burning as he disinfected it. He put some antibiotic ointment on a band aid and placed it gingerly over the cut. He noticed some of the hickies he had left on your neck the night before, quickly moving your hair to make them more inconspicuous. “There. All better.”
You couldn’t help but flush with how sweet Steve was being. Even if the world was undoubtedly ending, at least you knew that he was going to be there for you. You could tell that he was on edge, probably more so given how Eddie had reacted, and you just appreciated that he wasn’t overreacting…yet.
Suddenly, Dustin’s Cerebro came to life, and you heard the distinctive sound of police chatter over the radio as you were clued into what the Hawkins police department knew of Eddie’s involvement in Chrissy’s death. Unfortunately, though not released to the public yet, Eddie was prime suspect number one.
“Shit!” Dustin exclaimed. “Fuck!”
“Woah, woah, whoa, calm down Dustin. We’re gonna figure all of this out okay? Freaking out isn’t going to make any of this shit easier, so we might as well all stay calm,” your voice was remarkably even as you said it and it was starting to freak the rest of your friends out. Of everyone here, you should by all accounts be the most freaked out.
“Look, I don’t think that we should split up, given everything that’s going on,” Steve spoke. “My parents aren’t home, so how about everyone spends the night at my house? You can all call your parents and make arrangements when we get there.”
Everyone agreed with Steve, and you all made your way out to his car, Dustin leaving a note to let his mom know he would be gone before he left. “Y/n? Are you, like, okay?” Max asked hesitantly. Your mind flashed back to what it felt like to have a knife held up to your throat.
“I’m fine, Max. I promise,” you said, but it didn’t sound very convincing. You were honestly more worried about the kids. You thought about the fact that they were deprived a normal childhood, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty about it. You were the babysitter, you were supposed to be the one to make sure that they were okay and safe and happy.
Steve finally pulled into his driveway, leading everyone inside and showing them around. “You all can sleep wherever. There’s a guest bedroom upstairs or you could sleep in the family room. I don’t care,” he sighed, just ready to go to sleep. Everyone got comfortable, Max and Robin choosing to sleep on the couches and Dustin taking the guest bedroom. You and Steve went to his room and you collapsed onto his bed.
“This can’t be happening again,” you spoke up as exhaustion from the day’s events settled in your bones.
“Yeah, I can’t quite believe it either,” Steve said, flopping down on the bed next to you. “Y/n, you have to promise me something okay?”
“What?”
“That if this all gets to be too much again, we call it quits. We get the kids out, we get Robin out, we get the hell out.”
“Steve,” you looked at him, trying to read his expression, “I can’t make that promise.”
“Y/n, everything has been escalating. First it was just one demogorgon, then it was a fuck ton of demo-dogs, then it was Russians and a giant flesh monster…I don’t know how we can handle anything worse, I mean we barely handled everything last summer!” He exclaimed, shaking his head at you. You could tell he was getting more irate, anger seeping into his tone.
“Steve, we either do nothing and die when the whole fucking world ends, or we do something and maybe die trying, or better yet, we fix the fucking problem and never have to worry about it again,” you replied, sitting up, slightly irritated with his tone. He stood up, looking down at you with a furrowed brow as he continued.
“You’re not understanding, y/n. Look, someone died. Unexplainably, just up and died in the most gruesome fucking way. We don’t know anything about how it happened or why or if it will happen again, and I’ll be damned if it happens to one of us, okay. Just promise me.”
“Steve, I can’t, and you know I can’t.”
Steve scoffed, trying to find the right words. He felt anxiety creep up in his chest as he decided that now was as good a time as any to get really fucking real with you. “Y/n. I want a future with you. We can’t fucking have that if one of us is dead.”
“We can’t have a future if the world fucking ends either. I have a massive fucking headache and I just want to go to bed, okay?” You got up and began changing into pajamas, and you heard Steve sigh behind you. He remembered his pinky promise to you in the woods that you were in this together. If you couldn’t make a promise to him, the best he could do was uphold his.
“Fine. But I’m not gonna be able to live with myself if something happens to you,” he warned as he crawled into bed, scooting towards you to spoon you. It was odd how casually you two could have a conversation like this, about the end of the world and the possibility of losing each other at any given moment.
“Nothing is going to happen to me,” you replied, turning in his arms and placing a kiss to his chest. You willed the words to be true as you drifted off to sleep in his arms.
***
Dustin threw the door open to the boathouse and you rolled your eyes, knowing it would likely scare the shit out of Eddie. You seemed to be right as you heard him shout from across the room, finally making it into the shed to see him pressed up against the back wall, knife extended out in front of him.
“Delivery service,” Dustin smiled at his friend. You waved sheepishly at Eddie, hoping that he could find it in his heart to forgive you guys for nearly giving him a heart attack…twice.
You all moved to stand around the boat as Eddie sat down in it, tearing into a box of cereal and eating it as if he hadn’t had a meal in days…which to be fair he probably hadn’t.
“So we have some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?” Dustin cut to the chase.
“Bad news first, always,” Eddie spoke through a mouthful of food. Your nose scrunched up in disgust as you scanned the room, noticing similar expressions painted on Robin and Max’s faces.
“We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with Dustin’s Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you,” you quickly spoke up as you gave the boy a sympathetic look.
“Also, they’re uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy,” Dustin chimed in.
“Like, 100% kind of convinced,” Max agreed. You rolled your eyes. So much for breaking the news softly.
“And the good news?”
“Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But if we found out about you, it’s only a matter of time before others do too, and once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother will be gunning for you,” Robin spoke up.
“Hunt the freak, right?” Eddie clarified, his eyes staring off, unfocused.
“Exactly,” Robin breathed out.
“So before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence,” Dustin outlined.
“That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” Eddie fumed. Sure he loved the Henderson kid, but the boy got on his damn nerves like all the time, and this was one of those moments.
“Believe it or not, we’ve been through this kind of thing before…a few times actually,” you reassured Eddie, hoping that your words would calm his nerves but that was definitely a bit of a stretch.
“You’re telling me that you, Ms. 4.0, have been off fighting monsters while maintaining a perfect GPA?” Eddie asked in disbelief. “Bullshit.”
“I know, it’s pretty impressive,” Steve spoke up, throwing an arm around you, “we usually rely on this girl with super powers but, uh, those went bye-bye.”
“So we’re kind of in more of the brainstorming phase,” Robin spoke up and you all nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, you really have nothing to worry about,” Dustin reassured Eddie, but all of you knew that that was far from the truth. There was definitely a shit ton of stuff to worry about. Before Eddie could ask anymore questions, you all heard sirens wailing in the distance. He quickly covered up with the tarp as you all ran to the window, watching as several emergency vehicles passed right by Reefer Rick’s house.
A sinking feeling settled in your stomach as you concluded that there must be another body. You all raced to Steve’s car again, following the waling sound of sirens, afraid of what you’d find.
***
a/n: thanks for reading people of tumblr! If you wanted to reblog, I promise I wouldn’t be mad ;)
taglist:
@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers
182 notes · View notes
writethrough · 1 year
Text
Fill In the Cracks
(Steve Harrington x Gender-Neutral Reader)
Synopsis: There's no way someone like Steve would love you. It's only a matter of time before he forgets you.
Warnings: Self-deprecation, feelings of unworthiness, angst to fluff, language
Word Count: 2016
A/N: In celebration of 500+ followers, here is my Steve fic you voted on! Admitted, this is not the original one I had in mind, but one I thought of this idea, I couldn't stop. I hope you enjoy it! And thank you to those who have supported my writing. I'm truly blown away by your kindness.
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Watching Steve flirt with every woman who enters Family Video may kill you. Not because he sucks at it—god, he’s such a dork, all faux suave and big eyes. You don’t know how any woman could turn him down. You fluster just from witnessing it.
No, you’ll end up six feet under because he never flirts with you.
It’s pathetic how you crave his attention when nothing will ever happen between you.
Still, you wait for the moments when his eyes turn to you. The ones where he throws you a smile or pulls you in for a hug. He’s always so warm…
He has this unbelievable ability to make you feel safe. And you can’t recall a time that's ever happened.
But it doesn’t matter how you feel.
Steve will never give you the looks you want. Or the flirty smiles. Or the relationship he’s constantly seeking out.
You’re only you.
“I should really get a new sign,” Robin sighs loudly, shaking you from your thoughts. “The board would already be full.”
You’re thankful she’s distracted with teasing Steve, or else she may notice how you zoned out while she was talking.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Steve says. “I suck.”
You try to give him the best sympathetic smile you can muster, but you know it doesn’t reach your eyes.
His head tilts slightly, but Robin pushes the cart toward him before he can say anything.
“It’s your turn to stock. There are some new tapes in the back,” she says.
He rolls his eyes but takes the cart without complaint and walks to the back room.
Robin leans her elbows on the counter and raises an eyebrow.
“You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” you ask.
“You just had to watch that.” She gestures to where Steve had stood. “Granted, it was bad. I’m sure it wasn’t fun.”
“I don’t get what you’re talking about, Robin.” Surely she doesn’t know…does she?
“I’m talking about your massive crush on a certain employee here,” she says. “And I’m not talking about Keith or me.”
You bite the inside of your cheek. “How did…How did you know?”
“You looked like a kicked puppy when he started talking.” Her tone is gentle as she levels you with a look.
You fiddle with your fingers. “It’s not like it matters.”
“What doesn’t matter?”
You meet her gaze, and she really has no idea what you’re talking about.
“How I feel,” you whisper. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course, it matters.” She matches your volume. “If you like him, you should tell him.”
You shook your head. “And embarrass me? Make everything weird between us? No.”
“That’s assuming he doesn’t feel the same,” she says.
“He just got done flirting with another woman. In what world does that mean he likes me back.” There’s a slight tingle in your nose, and you blink a few times before the tears can come.
“Maybe he’s thinking the same as you are: he doesn't want to make things awkward.” Her tone is reassuring and hopeful. Her heart is in the right place, but you know better.
“C’mon, Robin, it’s not like I’m anything special.” You say it as if it’s obvious. “I’m not the type of person guys give a second look, let alone love. I’m just…I’m just here.”
Her brow furrows. “What do you mean you’re ‘just here?’” She doesn’t give you room to respond. “You’re my best friend! Do you think anyone else could put up with me?”
“What about Steve?” You raise an eyebrow in challenge.
“Steve is Steve. But you are my ride or die.” She levels you with a look. “Don’t give me any of that ‘I’m unlovable’ crap. You are the kindest, most considerate person I know! You literally fight monsters and have saved every one of our asses—multiple times!”
You open your mouth, but she’s on a roll.
“And as for those guys you’re referring to—fucking dumbasses. If they can’t realize how amazing you are, then fuck’em. Well…not really. But you know what I mean!”
You feel a little awkward that you caused her to say all that, but mostly, you’re touched. And your feet are carrying you over to her before you can register what’s happening.
You pull her into a hug, holding back tears.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“Anytime,” she says, wrapping you in her arms. Like the action alone will convince you of her words.
You both slowly separate, her hands resting on your shoulders.
“We all love you. You’re important to us. And if you ever need reminding, tell me, okay?” she asks.
You nod. “Okay.”
Steve’s chest hurts.
He heard everything.
He’s in the back, ready to come out with more videos to stack when he hears you talking to Robin.
And all he wants to do is burst out and make you realize how wrong you are.
How could you think you’re forgettable?
How could you think you’re unlovable?
Especially when he’s right here? When he’s completely gone for you?
He wants to kick himself for flirting with that girl and everyone before her. He should have just told you how he feels.
He nods along to Robin’s reassurances, urging his agreement to somehow ease your mind.
He has to do something.
You deserve the world. You deserve to know how much he values you—how much you mean to him. That he returns your feelings.
Just the thought of being with you sends his heart skyrocketing. He would think he’s dreaming if it weren’t for how you spoke about yourself.
After your conversation ends, he waits ten minutes before emerging from the back.
He throws you a smile, your words still echoing in his head. And as he shelves tapes, he decides it’s finally time he tells you.
You hang around Family Video until Steve clocks out. Tonight’s your weekly pizza and movies. And despite your little confession with Robin, you’ll never rob yourself of alone time with Steve.
You watched two movies and ate half of the pizza when you took a break to stretch your legs.
Steve sets up in front of the sink, and you grab a dish towel without a word. An additional part of your ritual.
You can tell by the way he moves something’s bothering him. He’s been off all night.
In these quiet moments, you know you’ll get an honest answer.
“Do you need to talk about something?” you ask, drying the first plate.
He doesn’t glance at you or indicates he even heard you. Just scrubs the nonexistent sauce from the dish.
You run the towel over the plate again, so you’re not standing there looking at him, so you’re not pressuring him to tell you.
He hesitates a second before he speaks.
“I heard you earlier,” he says, washing the dish in his hand. “With Robin.”
You freeze mid-swipe, your conversation flashing through your head. Then continue just so your hands are doing something.
“...And?”
He wouldn’t bring it up if he didn’t want to fight you on it. You know him too well. Steve is sweet, too sweet for his own good sometimes. You never wanted him to know your feelings.
“...Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks as gently as ever. He could’ve been settling your fears. 
He could’ve been telling you he loves you for years.
You shrug as if you don’t know, putting the plate away.
He sighs when you don’t elaborate.
“You aren’t forgettable.” He turns to you. “You could never be.”
You let out a humorless laugh through your nose. “Tell that to my friends from kindergarten. Or elementary school. Or maybe the ones from middle—”
“I will never forget you. I don’t care about those dickheads you called friends. It’s their loss.” His jaw clenches. “You matter to all of us.” You matter to me.
You don’t let his words penetrate. You can’t because once you do, he's bound to leave. So, you swing the hammer and embed another nail in the wall.
“Like I haven’t heard that before,” you whisper, eyes closed, waiting.
You can hear his hands form fists, his teeth grind, and you want to hide. Away from his anger, his disappointment.
But when he speaks, his tone isn’t angry. It’s soft, disbelieving…
…heartbroken.
“I don't get why you think you’re so hard to love.”
You swallow, still avoiding his gaze. If you look at him, your floodgates will break.
“Because I am,” you whisper. And you can’t help how refreshing your honesty is. It’s addicting. “Who in their right mind would love me?”
What sorry, self-sabotaging, blind person will ever love someone as flawed as you? How could anyone see any value in all your cracks and chips?
Broken things are thrown away. Love doesn’t come to something past its prime.
“I do,” he says. “I do. Everyday.”
Your brow furrows, mind coming to a screeching halt.
He can’t be serious.
He’s reassuring you. Saying he loves you as a friend. Nothing more.
Because Steve Harrington can do better. So, how could he love you?
“I’ve loved you for a long time now. And it’s been the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He swallows, unnerved by your silence.
He waits, knowing he may have ruined the best thing that’s happened to him. But he had to tell you. You have to know that you’re everything to him.
You finally, finally meet his eyes. They’re watering, and he wants to take you in his arms and protect you. But the last thing he wants is to scare you, to push himself on you if you don’t feel the same. 
“Do you…Do you mean it?” you whisper, desperation clear in your tone. You're too fragile to care.
“Of course I mean it.” He steps toward you. “I’ve meant it for the past two years.”
Your eyes widen. “Years?” You barely get it out.
He nods. “Just waiting for you to realize.” He can feel the energy shifting. You’re out of your head. “Didn’t know I’d have to spell it out for you.” He huffs good-naturedly
You breathe out a laugh of disbelief. “Of course, you’d have to spell it out! How the hell was I supposed to know you love me?”
All those girls come to both of your minds. It makes him sick.
“I’m a coward,” he says.
You tilt your head as if to say, “No, you’re not.”
He only shrugs, a fond smile on his face. “You always tease me and ask if I have my eye on someone. And I’ve never lied to you.”
“You also never asked anyone o—“ You slowly realize what he means. “Me?”
He nods. “You.”
You're silent long enough that it makes him nervous. But all you can think about is how much time you’ve wasted not being with him in the way you want.
“So there you go, not unlovable.” He rocks on the balls of his feet.
And it’s that nervousness that makes you realize you have yet to respond.
“I love you, too, Steve.” And once again, honesty is addicting.
“Really?” He grins, all big and bright.
You nod, a shy smile on your face. “Really. I’d have to be crazy not to.”
He carefully takes your hands, dragging his thumbs over your knuckles, memorizing your softness.
“So I love you. You love me. Is it safe to say you’re officially mine?” He bites his lip. You want to pull it free.
“I think so,” you tease. “Unless you want to wait another two years.”
He shakes his head frantically, though the smile is still there. “No, no, definitely not.” He clears his throat. “So…can I kiss you now?”
He’s already leaning in, too eager to care if he’s coming off too excited.
You hum softly, meeting him halfway.
It’s everything you imagined it would be. Soft and warm, a minty sweetness from that spray Steve keeps in his pocket, and gentle. As he always is with you—like you’ll shatter if he presses too hard. But you want to break this time because he will help put everything back together.
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Taglist: @bookshelf-dust, @steph-speaks
If you'd like to be added to any tag lists, please message me or comment with the character you'd like to be updated on.
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shieldofiron · 9 days
Text
Steve who’s convinced that Billy is straight. I mean convinced. He was the only lunatic in the world who would start liking a girl more after she waved a gun in his face… And it turned out that after Billy apologized to Lucas, Steve was next on the list. And he was having some kinds of feelings about it.
Goes through all seven levels of hell because he’s had guy crushes before sure, but it’s never been like this. Not when Billy’s apologizing in the parking lot, spitting fire with a black eye that Steve doesn’t remember putting there. Not when Steve finally stutters out the explanation he came up with Hopper when they all got back, and Billy had cracked, patting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. That shoulder felt warm for the rest of the day.
And then he saw Billy leaning over Aimee Parkinson and his whole body turned to ice for a second. It was probably just a break up thing. Like his feelings were just acting up. After all Steve still likes girls. Still got interested… but then sometimes he would think about that warm shoulder, about hands that never had scrapes on them. Billy just had really nice hands, ok?
He was able to ride that explanation for another few months, hands shaking when they made contact in gym or when he handed him a beer those infrequent nights when he’d go on a drive and find Billy’s car out by the quarry. Just getting over Nancy still, the feelings spilling over. And sometimes guys get man crushes when they want to be friends. Right?
It’s only that day at Starcourt when he sees Billy drive his car into Mrs Wheeler’s station wagon to try to stop her from hitting Nancy that it hits him. This shit isn’t going away. Not that there’s much time to think of it. Between the fireworks and Steve’s throbbing head there was Billy. Billy hustling El away when Mrs Wheeler dragged her to the monster and promptly melted into it, absorbed. Billy, who was the first person to hug Mike Wheeler after, telling him it was going to be ok, that his mom loved him, Billy knew she did.
Between late nights at the hospital, and waking up to one of those nice hands laid over his. They were friends. And it was a level of hell as of yet unimagined.
Friends, as it turned out, got jobs together. Fucking Keith loved Billy. Thought he was a laugh riot because Billy could quote some stupid British movie from memory. Because Billy was a nerd, underneath all the swagger and the unbuttoned shirts. And even that made Steve’s knees weak.
Eventually Robin clues him in. Gives him a word. Turns out liking guys and girls and basically whoever he likes is not the singular suffering of one Steven Alessandro Harrington. And it’s nice to have the word for it, even if he can’t do jack about it.
And then one night they’re shooting the shit after a late shift. Billy’s got his shirt off and his family video vest on, because he’s a demon from the fifth dimension. And Steve’s got extra cologne on because they’re hanging out. And they’re talking about how El wants her powers back and… Billy starts crying.
He starts babbling about Mrs Wheeler, how it’s Billy’s fault, all of it. Because she was driving out on that road to meet him.
Steve turns to ice again. Because he knew Billy was straight but… this…
But Billy keeps crying. Talking about his dad, how his dad always wants him to be a man. That he had to lie he had a date tonight just to be here. And how Billy thought if a rumor started with the moms in town it would finally get back to his dad, and his dad would believe it and lay off him. Believe that Billy is straight.
Steve lays a hand on Billy’s shoulder. And it burns, burns like hell. What did Billy always say. Looks like there’s some fire in him after all?
“What if you weren’t lying to your dad?”
Sniffles. Wiping tears away from blue eyes with his own hands.
“Whad’ya mean, Harrington.”
“This could be a date.”
Billy doesn’t move away. Those hands curl into Steve’s vest collar as their lips meet. Billy makes a noise, a sweet heavenly noise.
“You can call me Stephanie,” Steve whispers when they finally pull apart for a second. “If that makes you feel better.”
Billy snorts. “I could never want a girl like this. Sorry, I’ve only had my eye on one guy in town. Maybe you’ve heard of King Steve?”
Steve runs his hands up Billy’s shoulders, tangles in his hair, slotting their knees together. Billy can be very convincing.
116 notes · View notes
1800rue · 1 year
Text
Keith Kogane X Reader: Fluff Alphabet
gender: gender neutral
type: fluff alphabet by @snk-warriors
acronyms: f/c = favorite color
characters: keith kogane
warnings: maybe out of character keith?
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A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
He enjoy's any quality time you both spend together. However, you- besides Shiro, are one of the people he's really close with. So he likes to train with you and show you some new moves he could use some criticism on. He also enjoys you showing off some of your moves.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
You understand him better then anyone. That's what made him know you were on the one for him. You can contrl his anger issues and calm him down when he seems to just- go all out- if you know what I mean.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
Not the best at comfort, but I headcanon (or is this canon, idk) he struggles through he's on panic attacks. Everyone has them, so there's nothing to be ashamed about. He wants you to be able to go to him when you're down or on the verge of panic attacks. He would try his best to stop you from crying, for example, rubbing your back, whispering in your ear, combing your hair with his fingers, or just holding you when you need him the most.
D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
He just wants you to be happy. If he's with you, there's no other place he's rather be. He's travel hell and back with you if it was possible. He's basically traveled through space for/with you, so hes got that all setted.
E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
Somewhat like Lance, he's a switch between passive and dominant. He likes to hear what you have to say and will never deny any of your ideas, unless there stupid. Then yes, he will have to take charge, but he does like to have others pitch in- sometimes.
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
He's a hothead. So going into this relationship with him you were bound to run into arguments here and there. He would never actually do anything to physically hurt you, but he may say something and you let it sink in for days until he apologies. He tends to say sorry at first, but leaves and doens't talk to you until he's ready. He doesn't enjoy arguing with you, but sometimes he can't help but raise his voice at you for something stupid.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
He had no idea where his life was going until he laid eyes on you and actually got to know you. He felt like he had a place in the world and that would be with you through out everything. Good or bad. He is aware, how can he not be. You make sure he's eating. You make sure he's sleeping properly. That he's not overdoing it training. Taking breaks and having some time with friends and loved ones. He won't admit it in front of the others, but he sheds a tear when you do these small things for him.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
He lies sometimes. And normally, you'll catch him in the lie but before you could question he's already gone. In his room, his lion, or even just out on his own somewhere. He doesn't want to lie to you because he knows youd never lie to him, but everyonee lies about something. You both know you have your personal problems, but you both want to get through those problems together.
I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
As said in 'G' he wouldn't know where he would be going in life if he hadn't met you. You gave him a purpose to keep fighting. He would want to try new things with you,but he would never forgive himself if he saw you hurt and he could have done something to prevent it. As said in 'H' as well, you both want to help each other overcome personal problems one step at a time.
J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
He mostly gets jealous at Lance when he 'play-flirt' with you. This was also when you both weren't even dating yet. Yup, it was that early he was alreadt getting jealous. "Y/N. It's time for traning, get moving or I'm adding in an extra 10 mintues for the rest of the week!" Lance would notice and tease the half-Galra Paladin about, but he pushes the Cuban away. "Is someone a little bit, oh what's the word? 'Jealous~'?'" "Shut up, Lance." He tends to talk to you about his jealousy, days after the incident had happen.
K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
You would say he's an amazing kisser, but he says otherwise. He tenses up mid kiss, unsure when to pull away so you're normally dominant when it comes to kissing and making out. The first kiss? He made the first move at a family celebration of yours. That was also the time he confessed his feelings for you.
L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
-kinda answered already, but I'll add detail- It was your siblings graduation party. You invited Keith and the others, but they didn't want to intrude in your family celebration. However, you were shocked to see Keith by your doorstep. You invited him in and introduced to your family. Of course, your mother asked if you both were dating and you both blushed. You father pulled your mother away and apologized. At the end, everyone was heading home while some slept over. Keith, not wanting to intrdude any longer, pulled you outside to have a small talk with you. How your week was, if your doing okay in school. Until he watched as you were about to walk back into after your father called to help clean-up. As you turned, the Galra grabbed your wrist and turned you back toward him. Gefore you questione, he smashed his lips to yours and you were both shocked. You actully, non-intended, melted into the kiss. Moments later you pulled away for air. Keiith pants, watching you smile softly. "Is there- something you wanted to say, Mullet?" You teased, panting for air as Kaith blushed a deep red. "I-" It was written all over his face. He fell for you. Hard. And you could tell. "I-I love you, Y/N." You giggled as you pushed his bangs back and kissed his forehead, "Took ya' long enough."
M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
He is flustered when it came to proposing to you. You've been dating for years, he didn't want it to be taken away by a silly question. Howver, through all you've been together, meetings, all the Voltron show bizz, saving the universe, he couldn't find a time to ask you until the end of it all. This was day's after Allura's sacfrice. He found you on your balcony one starry night, looking up into space. The same place you watched the lions leave once more, ready to fight along side new Paladins. His hand was behind his back, gripping a small box as his other covered his mouth as he couched, attemping to get your attention. At first, you both talked and laughed about your pst adventures. You already missed your time as a Voltron Paladin, but in a couple of minutes, you're life was about to change forever. As you were distracted by the shooting star, Keith was able to sneak behind you and bend down on one knee. You called his name before you turned around, almost falling to the floor when you saw him on one knee with a ring box in his hand, revealing a beautful (f/c) gem in the middle of the silver metal. He promised to stay with you until the day he dies. He will never let you do anything on you're own anymore. He will be with you every step of the way. As you cheered 'YES!' and tackled your fiancé to the ground with a hug, All the others watched from the door and Lance snapped a quick picture of his friend getting attacked with kisses and hugs.
N icknames - What do they call their s/o?
Baby/Babe.
When he's cheeky, Sweetheart.
He mostly calls you by any preferred nickname, but those two are his top pick to use for you.
O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
He tries to hide it, but is terribly at it and accidently blurts it out durning an agrument with Lance, causing everyone to literally freeze and drop whatever they had in their hands. He didn't see anybody after that 1 afternoon until the next day. He saw Lance hand two 20's over to Pidge, who snickered at Lance's deadpanned face. Keith being in love is nothing to joke about. If he say's he loves someone, he'll be dead fucking serious. He wouldn't tell anyone if he wasn't.
P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
He's so shy- oml. Not as shy in private though- ahem ahem. Moving on- Keith likes to hold you close while cuddling. His also likes to rub your thigh now and than, catching you off guard sometimes. He tends to hide your relationshp to others, but of he see's another person on you he'l drag you back and leave a kiss to your lips, loud and clear enough for the other perosn to see. He sends them a death glare saying 'touch them, and you die.' Plain and simple.
Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
He respects you so much. If no body worthships the ground you step on, their nothing to him. He does everything he can to make every date night a special one. Little doesn he know, just being with him is special.
R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
Cliché. To make you happy? Just be with you. That's all he needs to do in order to make you really happy. He can be romantic at times, while other times he's got no clue what he's doing at first and lets you to take the wheel. Don't get use to all this power though, because he's a fast learner.
S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
100% he believes in you. He tells you if you seriously know what your doing, he'll be your number one supporter, trailing behind you. He wants to help to the best of his ability, but if he doesn't think it's a good idea he will step in and ask you to re-think your ideas.
T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?
He would prefer for a certain routine, but he also finds it fun how excited you get when you want to try new things. He's like the black cat in the relationship while your the golden reteriver. Of course, he will never let you do anything that will, or may, get yourself killed.
U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
He'll listen to what you need to say and try his best to give the best advice his can. However, there are sometimes where he doesn't know what to do but ask for some help from Shiro. Give him time and he'll try his best to help you.
V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
If someone hurts you he's going full Galra. Fangs and claws are out, baby. Better start running, You're so important to him, he wouldn't know what to do without you. He never thought he'd be here, but now that your in his life he's doing everything he can to keep you in it.
W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
I headcanon he's hands, oher then Lances, are cold and somewhat rough. He laughs at your cute reactions when he stuffs his hands up your shirt, rubbing your bare skin. This leads to a all out tickle fight. Laughter and sceams could be heard from down the halls.
X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
He doesn't hate it, but he would want his personal space once ina while. He also does the same for you. However, other times when you do hug him he may never let you go. You're so warm and cuddly he'll basically use you as a blanket/bed from now on.
Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
Doesn't matter, because he's never going to lose you. If you're away on a mission, that's something else. He'll write to you when he can and smile when he finds you wrote back to him.
Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
He. Will. Kill. For. You. Okay, too extreme. But he will try his best to do anything for you. If you need help, he'll be there in less then 2 seconds.
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ladykailitha · 5 months
Text
Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 10
Just two more chapters to go and then this little story is done. I'm glad I wrote it. It was very cathartic for me. I hope it brought some comfort to you too.
Here we find out who Steve has been grieving this whole time and that Eddie mourned them too.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
****
Steve was quiet and contemplative on the trip back. And Eddie let him be. That was quite the roller coaster of emotion he had gone through and he knew Steve needed time to sort out all of his thoughts and feelings.
As they neared Ashland, Eddie asked, “Are you okay? It got pretty heavy back there.”
“Sorry,” Steve murmured.
“I wasn’t asking for forgiveness,” Eddie admonished gently. “I was asking if you were okay.”
Steve sighed. “I guess I just had so many things bottled up that it all came out in a rush.”
“So talk to me,” Eddie said softly. “I know you think you can’t talk to anyone else because they’re all younger than you. But I’m not. So spill.”
Steve let out a long shuddering breath as if he had been holding it in for years.
“It’s just there have only ever been two adults involved in the whole Upside Down shit,” Steve murmured. “Well, there have been others, but either they haven’t been trustworthy or they’ve died. And I’m not going to lie and say I’m not bitter about Mrs Byers taking her family out to California and leaving me as the remaining adult.”
“Oh shit,” Eddie said softly. He hadn’t even thought about that. “That wasn’t right. I get she was trying to get Will and El as far away from Hawkins as she could, but considering the frequency of the U.D. coming back, it does seem selfish when looked at from your point of view.”
“El wasn’t the only one grieving Hopper’s death,” Steve spat out. “Why were only her feelings taken into consideration? Why was his funeral ‘a private family’ affair instead of one benefiting a hero where the whole town could attend? Why was El the first one that got to see him? Why did it take days before anyone else was informed?”
Eddie saw a shoulder and pulled off onto it, the Bimmer crunching the gravel as it slowed to a stop.
“It must have been so hard on you,” Eddie murmured. “You mentioned back at the diner that he always looked out for you and then suddenly he was gone and no one thought to ask you if you needed time to grieve, right?”
Steve nodded. “I just felt so stupid after it was announced that he was alive, you know? Like how dare I mourn someone who hadn’t even died. But I thought that once everything settled down we would get a chance to talk, but nope. He went off to California with the Byers. They’re supposed all be back before school starts, but who knows if that’s even true.”
“Steve it isn’t stupid you grieved,” Eddie murmured. “But I bet if you told him what you’ve been feeling, he’d pretty upset that he hurt you like that.”
Tears started streaming down Steve’s face. “I just want to be loved as much I love them, is that really too much to ask for?”
Eddie unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled him in for a hug. “Of course it’s not. And I don’t doubt if you stopped to really think about it you can name at least a half a dozen people who love you as much as you love them.”
Steve let out a watery chuckle. “I could probably fill up all ten of my fingers, if I was honest to myself.”
Eddie wiped away his tears. “There you have it, big boy. But it’s okay to cry and if you feel like you need to fall apart, call me. I’ll come over with beer, weed, and bad horror films to mock until you laugh.”
Steve wiped his nose on his arm. “You promise?”
Eddie leaned back far enough to hold up his pinkie. “I pinkie promise.”
Steve hooked his finger around Eddie’s and shook on it.
“You ready to face the road again?” Eddie asked.
Steve nodded. After a moment or two of silence, he spoke up. “You remember when ‘fake’ cried for Keith?” He used his fingers around the word fake to put it into air quotes.
Eddie, who was about to pull into traffic again, cut the engine. “Holy shit. It was Hopper, wasn’t it? That’s who you were remembering.”
Steve nodded. “It’s easy to cry when thinking about him, you know?”
“Because it’s new and even though he’s not dead, you never got your resolution?”
Steve nodded again. “I just feel so selfish about the whole thing, you know. He wasn’t my dad. I wasn’t related to him in anyway. But I thought I meant something to him, you know?”
Eddie turned the car back on and eased into traffic. “I’m sure you meant a lot to him, but there could be extenuating circumstances that prevented him from expressing that. Like I said before, I bet if you told him how you felt he’d be gutted.”
Steve just shrugged.
Eddie glanced over at him and then back at the road. “You tell anyone about this and I’ll tell Dustin about the time you flirted with his mom to get the brownie recipe.”
Steve’s went wide. “That was not flirting! I was just buttering her up a bit. That’s not the same thing.”
“Oh I know that,” Eddie said with a grin. “But would Dustin know the difference?”
Steve thought about it for a moment. “You drive a hard bargain, Lord Eddie.”
Eddie giggled. “You know, sometimes I forget you like ‘Star Wars’, you just aren’t great with their titles.”
“The third one is my favorite, after all.”
Eddie cleared his throat. “So back when I was just little metalhead, dealing for the first time one of my best customers was the Chief.”
Steve blinked. “Oh wait, I think I did hear something about that. I’m surprised he wasn’t fired.”
Eddie shrugged. “He wasn’t up for re-election. Sheriffs are elected. And small town like Hawkins, change is difficult. Hop would have to straight up murder babies in town hall and smear their blood over the church walls to get people to not vote for him.”
Steve snorted. “I doubt even then. It would take him being soft on homosexuals before they ousted him.”
Eddie laughed. “You’ve got me there.”
Steve smiled at him.
“So,” Eddie continued, “the reason I bring it up is that despite what people think, I’ve never been arrested for dealing and Rick hadn’t either until Hop ‘died’.”
Steve straightened up in his seat. “What do you mean?”
“Hop always said it was better to steer Rick away from certain places because he could,” Eddie said, “then it was to arrest him and have an all out war with the new supplier.”
Steve’s eyes went wide. “That’s why Rick didn’t get arrested until Powell took over because he didn’t have the same philosophy that Hop did.”
“Right in one,” he said. “And it did get bad with people trying to fill the void he left behind. Uncle Wayne convinced to stop selling once I was out until Rick was released because I couldn’t trust the new suppliers not to cut their shit with something dangerous.”
“Holy shit, yeah,” Steve agreed. “So why are you telling me this?”
“Because Hop looked out for me, too,” Eddie said. “Especially when my old man rolled into town. He would make sure he got to the carnage first and made sure I never got a record.”
Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “That makes since I always wondered why the police or Jason never brought up your arrest record. It’s because Hop made sure you never got one.”
“So this is me saying,” Eddie finished, “I get it. I get mourning him. Because in my own way I mourned him, too. Because between Hop and Uncle Wayne they made sure I could get out of Hawkins when the time came.”
“This is exactly why I pushed for a public funeral,” Steve grumbled, sinking back into his seat and crossing his arms. “I don’t know who had the final say on that, but it makes me mad that just because they didn’t have a body people in town wouldn’t want to come see anyway. It blows.”
“Here’s that,” Eddie agreed.
Too soon they were pulling up the Nelsons’ and the sun was starting to set.
By silent agreement they both got out of the car and sat on Steve’s hood to watch the sunset in a beautiful array of blues and purples until the sky darkened and the stars came out.
“Thank you for today,” Steve murmured. “For all of it. Getting me out here, taking me to my grandmother’s grave, sitting with me when I talked to Uncle Percy. Helping me with my grief even though yours is far more fresh and painful than mine.”
“Grief is grief, Stevie,” Eddie murmured. “You don’t get to decide when it heals over. You were there for me when my dad showed up, so I was more than happy to return the favor with your family.”
“Thanks, man,” Steve said.
“So...” Eddie said. “You want to tell me why you and your uncle weren’t keen to let your other uncle see you?”
Steve snorted. “He’s the one that was the most against my mom getting any kind of inheritance. He didn’t think she should have gotten anything because she was a girl child. He kept saying that she got her money in the form of the lavish wedding she had when she married my dad.”
He ran his fingers through his hair.
“He’s sued her at least three times that I know of. If he had seen me he would have started screaming about how my mom didn’t deserve that money and that I was just as complicit in its ‘theft’ as she was.”
“But he got the house or whatever it was, right?” Eddie asked.
He nodded. “Yeah and the two acres of land it sits on. If he were to sell it would go for at least a few million, easy.”
“I’ll bet,” Eddie said, whistling long and low. “Which means Percy got the business?”
“Which another thing that upset Uncle Jasper,” Steve said. “But Uncle Percy is the oldest and had the best business sense, but he can’t let it go that he thinks his siblings got the better deal.”
“I heard this quote once about how some people are content in life, but that others just can’t be. That they will always seek more. Nothing will ever be enough.”
“Uncle Jasper is definitely one of those.”
Penny poked her head out the front door. “Come on in, boys, it’s really getting late.”
Eddie and Steve stood up and walked back into the house, feeling lighter then they had since before March.
****
Pt 11|Pt 12
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leenfiend · 22 days
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Kissing you on the mouth for your Lance son of Hermes take. I didn't even really have an opinion before but after reading your post I'm immediately sold and so invested in the au
Do you have ideas on what the other characters godly parents would be? Hunk with Hephaestus makes sense to me, and I'm a fan of Keith son of Ares (learning to accept his godly dad could match with his arc about accepting he's part galra, a supposedly evil/violent side of him, + the anger and fighting skills), but not sure about the others...
hello!!! I'm glad you see the vision hehe. I actually sent many a paragraph to heynhay about this only yesterday. I was firmly on the son of Ares Keith headcanon but then... someone reblogged my post saying Keith son of Zeus (I think it was @pidges-lost-robot and i was like WAAAAIT.
Okay so here's my many many paragraphs explaining headcanons for each. Shiro son of Zeus: Okay so in my head Shiro & Keith are both sons of Zeus but for very different reasons. They're like Thalia vs Jason types. Shiro is a great leader, he's ambitious, he's brave, he's a legend. His dad is so proud. He's been on like 20 quests and absolutely demolished all of them. All the kids in camp know he's So Cool and Talented. He can be hot headed sometimes but ultimately he's really adept at setting aside his feelings for the Greater Good etc. Ideal hero type and ideal son to the big guy upstairs. Keith son of Zeus: Keith is all the bad traits of Zeus (sorry to him). He's got a short temper, he's impulsive, he's closed off. He's a prodigy without meaning to be. Everyone pays attention to him but (despite what Lance thinks) it's because they think he's a freak, he's not a big three kid the way you're Supposed To Be. And he doesn't want to be a leader. This really rubs Zeus the wrong way. Keith would rather disappear into the ranks of his fellow campers than be the star of the show and that goes against everything children of Zeus are supposed to be. His dad definitely refuses to claim him for a long time which makes Keith just some weird really powerful kid who doesn't know who his godly parent is. Luckily Shiro takes him under his wing : )) (too bad Shiro doesn't come back from his latest quest tho, no one knows where he went off to and Chiron doesn't want to send out a quest because if something kept Shiro The Legend from coming back to camp it must be really bad). Hunk son of Aphrodite: ANOTHER ONE I'M FIRM ABOUT. I think Hunk's defining characteristic is his love for his friends. Hunk is always looking for peaceful ways to solve problems, he's always forming relationships with people before doing anything else, he really values giving love to those around him. It also doesn't hurt that he's kind of squeamish and particular about a lot of things, as a lot of Aphrodite's children are. But I really think his greatest strengths are the ways he's able to relate to others. I know a lot of people say Lance is the glue that holds everyone together, but I think it's Hunk. I know the fanon is that Aphrodite's kids are all just big flirts but I think both Selena and Piper are great examples that that's not true, and Hunk would absolutely be their brother. Pidge daughter of Hephaestus: I've seen some people saying Athena for Pidge but that's another one where I just can't get behind it. Pidge is so smart in so many ways but so stupid in others. She's too impulsive and single minded to be a daughter of Athena, imo. Her main love is figuring out how things work, what makes them tick, and using that knowledge to help those she loves. Children of Hephaestus are know to hold grudges, fight for their families, and let's not forget Hephaestus spending literally all of his free time trying to play pranks on the other Gods with his little contraptions like that is all Pidge would do all day long. Plus she befriends a robot and that is who she talks to for the first like 3 episodes of Voltron that is so unbelievably child of Hephaestus energy. Anyway thank u for asking this question I've been thinking on it for days. I am also open to the idea of Shiro being a son of Athena, I think that would suit him well. And also in my head I like to think Keith would potentially just remain unclaimed until he stomped his way to Mount Olympus and forced whoever was his parent to fess up.
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