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solarmorrigan · 8 months

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No one looks like they did in high school forever (be kinda weird if they did, honestly). Changes catch up with everyone sooner or later. For Steve, it seems to have happened sooner.

Personally, Eddie is in favor.

It isn’t that he hadn’t thought Steve looked in good in high school – god knows it isn’t that (Eddie may have thought Steve had been an asshole at the time, but he’d been a pretty one). It’s just that high school had been a time of basketball and swim meets and carefully watching his diet and carefully curating his appearance to match what he’d thought other people would want to see.

The time since graduation has been spent putting on the type of muscle that would better facilitate fighting monsters and keeping a band of misfit children safe (because after three times around, Steve hadn’t quite been able to bring himself to believe that the Upside Down was really gone), being fed by a rotating cast of mothers who appreciate him being there for said misfit children, and in letting himself decide how he thinks he looks good.

The first time Eddie really gets a good look at Steve after he’s left high school, he’s gone from lean muscle and looks a bit closer to the tank that Dustin’s been insisting he is. The first time Eddie sees him in action, he decides he wants to climb Steve like a tree.

Broad shoulders, strong biceps, solid core, thick thighs, that ass—is it objectification if you’re dating the guy and also madly in love with him? Whatever—Eddie is of the opinion that the time since high school has been very kind to Steve, appearance-wise.

He’s startled to realize, then, that Steve does not always share this opinion.

It doesn’t happen often; it’s rare enough that even Robin almost misses it, and Eddie is a big enough person to admit that she’s a more experienced Steve-watcher than he is.

For the most part, Steve is comfortable in his skin; he knows he looks good, he knows Eddie thinks he looks good, he knows what he’s capable of, and he’s pleased with where he is. Some days, though – some days just aren’t good days.

There are times when Eddie will catch Steve lingering in the mirror, frowning over a shirt that used to fall differently, or a pair of shorts that used to fit a little more loosely. He might reach for one of the cookies that Claudia sent them home with after their last dinner over at the Henderson household, before faltering and grabbing an apple instead (or, sometimes, nothing at all). He might wear extra layers, steal one of Eddie’s slightly oversized flannel shirts, go on an extra run, or he might not be in the mood to cuddle up to Eddie in bed (in spite of the fact that Eddie knows how much he loves getting to be the little spoon, even if he still refuses to say it out loud).

Most of these things by themselves don’t really have to mean anything, but somehow, Eddie can always tell when it’s one of those insecure days.

(And if Eddie had ever thought when he was younger that Steve Harrington could feel insecure about the way he looks, about his body, he might have cracked a crass joke about King Steve’s obvious need to overcompensate for something. Now, though, he knows better. Also, he’s a tiny bit more mature than that.)

So when he comes into the living room one afternoon to find Steve practically crammed into the corner of the sofa, curled in on himself just enough to suggest that he’s trying to take up less space, Eddie decides that that will just not do.

Eddie loves Steve’s confidence. He loves the space Steve takes up in his life (metaphorically and literally). He loves Steve, and he sure as hell isn’t about to let him spend the day feeling bad about himself, so he ducks back into the bedroom for the book on his nightstand and then plops down on the other end of the couch.

He reads for a little while and doesn’t really have to worry about getting too distracted from his plan, because he always finds himself tilting towards Steve like a compass to magnetic north, whether he’s actively trying or not. So he reads, and he shuffles around on the couch a bit, and he lists to the side a little, and then he’s finally just close enough to Steve to plausibly ask, “Hey, d’you mind?”

Steve glances up from the magazine he’s been reading, brows furrowed. “Mind what?”

Eddie points to the way Steve’s legs are drawn up almost to his chest. “Stretching your legs out? I wanna lay down.”

And normally, Steve doesn’t hesitate – hell, normally, Eddie doesn’t even need to ask; it’s almost as if he can just tell when Eddie wants to rest his head in his lap and automatically moves to welcome it. Today, though, he rolls his eyes.

“We have pillows on the couch for a reason,” he says, jerking his head towards the throw pillows at the other end of the couch (as if Eddie could forget the throw pillows; they’d spent a goddamn hour at the furniture store staring at the choices and had walked out laughing about how boring and adult and great it felt to be decorating their apartment with fucking throw pillows – but that isn’t the point).

Eddie scoffs. “Why would I settle for a pillow when I could have something way more comfortable?”

“Yeah, there’s no way my lap is better than a pillow,” Steve drawls.

“Baby, your lap is the most comfortable resting place known to man,” Eddie states, so dramatically intoned that it makes Steve laugh, even though Eddie is fairly serious. “Now why would you deny me my favorite place to lay my head?”

Steve rolls his eyes again, but obligingly (if slowly) stretches out his legs and rests his socked feet on the coffee table to make space for Eddie.

“Thank you,” Eddie says primly, before flopping down on the couch and making himself comfortable with his head situated on Steve’s lap, then giving a demonstrative little wiggle to settle in. “Yep, that’s the stuff. Perfect.”

“Man, shut up,” Steve mumbles, turning back to his magazine.

When Eddie glances up to check that he hasn’t gone too far, there’s a bit of a flush high on Steve’s cheeks, but no real displeasure on his face, so he doubles down.

“I will not. Not until you acknowledge the perfection that is your thighs,” Eddie declares, pressing his head further back into Steve’s lap. “Firm, but with just enough give–” he reaches up and pinches the side of Steve’s thigh, smiling innocently when Steve jolts and glares down at him, “always warm. Perfect.”

Steve turns his eyes resolutely back to the magazine he’s got balanced on the arm of the couch. “Not perfect.”

“Well, sure, perfection is subjective, means different things to different people, blah blah blah.” Eddie waves his hand in a vague ‘et cetera’ gesture and accidentally smacks Steve in the arm before he turns his head (and his hair is absolutely going all staticky after being rubbed against the fabric of Steve’s sweatpants, which is going to be a nightmare later, but that’s a problem for future Eddie) and presses a kiss to the spot just above Steve’s knee. “But they’re perfect to me.”

For a moment, Steve is still. Then he shifts slightly in place, and Eddie has the feeling that if he were standing, he’d be shuffling from foot to foot.

“And I have it on pretty good authority that my opinion counts for something,” Eddie goes on. “So if you ask me—which you should—your thighs are one of your best features.”

Finally, Steve glances back down at Eddie. “You think so?” he asks, soft and a little hesitant.

“Absolutely. One of my favorite parts of you, on a rotating basis with every other part of you,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve scoffs, because this time Steve is smiling, too. “What? There are so many good features, I’ve gotta make sure I pay them all equal attention.”

And the thing is, Eddie does know that what got Steve into this mindset in the first place was spending so long seeing himself as valued only for what he can provide physically: a handsome face, a lean figure, a human shield, the Party tank – whatever it is. Most of the time, Eddie makes sure Steve knows what he loves about him as a person, not just about his body. He could gain one hundred pounds, he could lose all muscle mass and be as skinny as a rail, he could look like anything, and it wouldn’t matter, because Eddie loves him.

But that doesn’t mean Steve doesn’t also want a little reassurance now and then that Eddie loves his body, too – which Eddie does, and is happy to provide.

“And today, I’m paying attention to your thighs,” Eddie concludes.

“Stop saying ‘thighs,’ it’s starting to sound like gibberish,” Steve shoots back, but there’s a pleased tilt to the corners of his mouth now.

Eddie hums. “I especially love when you let me lay in your lap. Love having your legs under my head. Or wrapped around my head.” He waves his hand around his face, smirking up at Steve. “Just, in the vicinity of my head, really.”

Steve loses the battle with the laugh he’s been trying to hold in and it overtakes him, shaking with mirth under Eddie while Eddie smiles along with him.

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve says, once he’s gotten his breath back.

“I’m just putting it out there,” Eddie says.

Steve cocks one eyebrow at Eddie and turns back to his magazine with a smirk. “Uh huh. Well, I’m a little busy right now.”

“Oh, sure, me too,” Eddie says easily, bringing his book up over his face as if he’s going to continue reading, even though he isn’t even sure he’s on the right page.

They do settle after that, though, quiet and close and comfortable being draped over and under one another. Steve’s hand finds its way into Eddie’s hair and cards through it absently like he’s petting a cat. Eddie would probably purr like one if he could.

“Love you,” Steve murmurs, glancing down as he flips from one page to the next.

“Love you, too,” Eddie replies, tilting his book away just enough to smile up at Steve.

Maybe later Eddie will get to prove how much he loves Steve’s thighs wrapped around his head. Maybe not. For now, though, he hadn’t been lying – just this is perfect.

[Prompt: Resting your head on your partner's lap]

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote #cw for some discussion of weight/body issues #this is mostly fluff though #promise it has a positive ending

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steddielations · 9 months

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Steve walks into utter chaos.

He was stopping by just to see Max, but all the increasingly concerning noise coming from the Munson’s trailer drew him over there instead. Worried that all the cursing and clattering would drown out any chance of a knock being heard, Steve lets himself in.

Eddie doesn’t even notice him come inside, too busy scrambling around the complete wreck of a kitchen.

“Dude, are you cooking or just banging pots and pans together? I thought you were dying in here.”

Eddie squawks and jumps about a foot in the air. His hair is even more disheveled than usual, barely tied down with a bandana. He’s got flour splotches on his face and all over the frilly grandma apron he’s wearing (which Steve is definitely getting a photo of and showing Dustin later) along with a suspiciously sticky goo on his fingers.

“Stop laughing at me,” Eddie groans.

“I’m not laughing,” Steve laughs, going to join him in the kitchen, “What are you doing, man?”

“Well, I’m trying to bake Wayne a cake, but at this point, I might as well give him a frosting covered rock for his birthday,” Eddie sighs, frustrated hands scrubbing the flour off his apron, “I don’t know, man, usually I just get him another mug and a pack of smokes, and he’s never asked me for anything, but I’ve put him through hell this year I just wanted— I don’t know like, to do something special but I can’t even—”

“Alright, take it off.”

Steve folds his arms and waits while Eddie just gawks at him for a moment, cheeks reddening under the patches of flour.

“What?”

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Eddie scoffs, starts muttering like he does when he’s nervous and Steve cracks a smile when he realizes why.

“The apron, Eddie,” he gestures, “Hand it over.”

Another moment of confused staring and Eddie slowly gives it to him.

Steve wastes no time shaking out the flour and tying it around himself. He moves past Eddie, gets right to work clearing the mess and salvaging what ingredients he can.

“You…” Eddie peeks over Steve’s shoulder, “You know how to bake?”

“I can make a cake,” Steve shrugs, “Robin obsesses over shit sometimes, calls them her “little brain worms” or whatever. She couldn’t stop thinking about this cake she swore she had for her 5th birthday but couldn’t remember the flavor. So we made every cake recipe in her mom’s cookbook until we found the right one.”

“So Harrington’s got a secret Betty Crocker power-up, impressive.”

“Nah, just small stuff. I help Claudia with Dustin’s birthday cakes. Little shit is very particular about his red velvet.”

Eddie snorts and Steve waves him over to start washing the dishes. He does so with a small salute that smears more flour on his forehead. The word cute comes to Steve’s mind but he just rolls his eyes.

“So you dusted off your oven mitts for little old me, hm? I’m flattered.”

“Only because I like Wayne and I’d prefer if you didn’t give him food poisoning,” Steve teases, dumping out Eddie’s abomination of batter into the trash. Though he softens when he sees the way Eddie winces at it. “And I think it’s nice, you know, you doing this for him. I wanna help.”

Eddie clearly holds back a smile, looking down at the bubbles in the sink, and the cute word comes back to Steve’s mind.

“Okay well, take it easy on me. Not everyone has a bunch of mom friends teaching them to bake.”

“Oh yeah, then where’d you get this grandma apron? You just had this little number in the closet with your leather and chains?”

“No, it’s Mrs. Bennet’s and she’s not my friend,” Eddie bristles and Steve senses a hell of a backstory there, “I stole it off her clothesline.”

Steve laughs and makes Eddie tell him the whole story, all the inner workings of Forest Hills feuds. It’s nice, Steve’s been spending more time here since everything, listening to Eddie’s stories and sharing his own. It’s easy to be around Eddie, even though that pesky word won’t get out of Steve’s head.

Once the batter is finished, Steve dips a finger in to test.

“How does it taste?” Eddie asks, “Better than mine I hope.”

Steve hums around his finger, “So good, here taste,” he meant to slide Eddie the bowl, but the wires must’ve gotten crossed somewhere, because now he’s holding out a dollop of cake batter on the tip of his finger to Eddie’s mouth.

They both look down at it, then at each other again. Steve knows he should apologize, drop his hand and say it was a mistake but there’s something about the way Eddie’s looking at him, the way he subtly licks his lips is almost like— He wants this.

So Steve lets him have it.

Eddie leans in, keeps his hands at his sides and slowly guides himself down on Steve’s finger. His eyes fall shut as his mouth closes around it, like it’s too much, watching Steve watching him. It’s a lot for Steve too, the wet warmth of Eddie’s mouth, one swirl of his tongue almost makes Steve’s knees buckle.

Something comes over him, he presses his finger down just slightly, feeling Eddie’s tongue curl around the tip. It elicits a soft noise from Eddie that sends heat thrumming all through Steve. Eddie’s eyes flutter open, brows turned upwards and mouth in a plush little O around Steve’s finger, looking up at him through dark lashes, a dot of flour on his nose. The sight makes Steve’s breath catch in his throat. It’s fucking cute and hot.

Steve has to swallow his own noise when Eddie pulls off.

“Yeah,” he breathes out, a slight grin on his lips, “Really good.”

Steve’s about to do something crazy, put his finger back in Eddie’s mouth, maybe more than one this time, or just his lips on Eddie's, maybe even slip his tongue inside instead of his fingers, lick all that sweetness away until he just tastes Eddie, something— but a sudden loud knock on the door has him dropping his hand like it’s made of cement.

It’s Max, wanting to know why Steve ditched her for Eddie. She comes inside to ‘help’ which means she leans against the counter, talks about her day, complains, teases Steve and makes fun of Eddie for being demoted to dish duty.

Steve puts the cake in the oven and focuses on cleaning and composing himself. He can feel Eddie trying to meet his gaze, trying to see if Steve's going to freak out on him after that. Once Steve can look at him without feeling like he’s going to burst into flames, he gives Eddie a small reassuring smile, even throws him a wink when Max isn’t looking. Eddie gives him a smile back.

And later, after Wayne comes home and they sing happy birthday and eat the cake that Steve insists Eddie helped him with— Just the tasting part, Steve says and revels in how Eddie covers a blush with his hair— and after they walk Max home, Steve pulls Eddie behind the trailer and kisses him until he doesn’t taste like cake anymore.

for the prompts "You heard me. Take. It. Off." and "Stop laughing at me" for @highkingpenny and anon, thank you and I hope you enjoy this!!

#behave boys taste testing is a Very Important job #steddie #steddie ficlet #rueswriting #steddie fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fluff

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girlgenius1111 · 5 months

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resistance & persistence

angst, fluff, injury / injury recovery. claudia pina x reader.

R suffers and injury during a game, and struggles in the aftermath to accept help from Claudia.

You knew it was bad the moment you went down; if the pain wasn't enough of an indicator, the crack you heard definitely was. The game had been going well; a champions league group stage game against Benfica at home in Barcelona, that your team was leading by several goals. You might have been about to score again, having just nutmegged a defender. You had one defender left to beat, streaking towards the goal, when she decided to foul you. Instead of just tripping you up, though, she threw a foot out, stomping down on the inside of your ankle, sending it bending the complete wrong way.

You fell hard onto the ground, immediately rolling up into a little ball on your side, grasping at your ankle. You let out a cry of pain that could be heard across the field, and much to your dismay, you could feel tears pricking your eyelids. You kept your face pressed into the grass, it poking harshly against your skin, even as you felt a hand on your back, trying to roll you over.

"Come on chica, let me see," Patri spoke softly, her hand patting your back lightly to prompt you to move. Fighting back a sob, you shook your head into the grass, a few tears escaping.

You'd never felt pain like this before. You played a professional sport, and you were a pretty aggressive player too, not a stranger to injuries. The pain radiating from your ankle was mind numbing, sharp and hot, throbbing under where your hands wrapped tight around it.

A new voice spoke, firmer than Patri's: "Si, y/n, vamos," and Mapi's hands pulled your shoulder, forcing you onto your back. Your eyes were still squeezed shut, and you let out another whimper of pain at the slight movement . Your senses were slowly returning to you as you got used to the pain, and you could hear loud voices arguing with the ref. Cracking your eyes open, you saw Mapi and Patri leaning over you, both looking concerned.

"What hurts? Do you need the physios?" Mapi questioned, and you could only nod your head, looking up at her through tear-blurred vision. Taking a deep breath, you answered her first question.

"Ankle. It's bad," was all you could get out before you clenched your jaw back together, another wave of pain washing over you. Mapi motioned to the sidelines, calling for the physios, before she turned her attention back to you, grabbing one of your hands and holding tightly.

"How bad?" she asked. You opened your mouth to try to speak, but a sob came out before you could stop it, and suddenly you were crying. "Okay, okay, you're alright, everything is gonna be fine." Mapi's voice was soft, and you could hear worry bleeding into her tone. You never cried, and you never stayed down long after a tackle, even if it hurt. For you to still be on the ground, openly crying, and asking for the physios, it was clear that your injury was bad.

You brought a hand up to cover your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. You tried to control your tears as the physios arrived, taking Mapi's place by your side, forcing you to answer their questions. When they called for the heinous orange stretcher, you felt yourself dissolve into another wave of emotion; not being able to walk off the field meant that this was as bad as it felt, as bad as you thought it would be. As they moved you onto the stretcher, every worst case scenario was flashing across your brain; crutches, months away from the game, surgery, each thought worse than the last.

The medical team lifted you into the air, and you tried to muster a smile to your teammates as they patted your arms while you were walked by them. The stretcher came to a halt, though, before you reached the sidelines, and Alexia's face came into view, her brow furrowed with worry. She must have been able to tell what you were thinking, because she pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and paired it with a "don't spiral; whatever it is, we've got you." The words of your captain did not really do much to make you feel better, but you appreciated the effort.

You were walked back into the facility, a flurry of activity following you. You felt your mind shut down as the medics worked around you, manipulating your ankle and asking questions. The feelings bubbling up inside of you were too much, so you pushed them down, instead focusing on the pain in your ankle. You were whisked off for an x-ray, which would be the real test as to how bad it was.

-----

You lay with your eyes shut on the exam table, the room empty. 2 and a half months. Maybe 3. The words the doctor had spoken were rattling around inside your brain, and you willed yourself to feel nothing, to be strong. You heard the door open, and someone slip in, and you knew who it would be before you opened your eyes; the one person guaranteed to ruin your perfectly crafted mask of stability, and at the same time, the person whose presence you craved more than anything.

A hand came to lightly cup your cheek, and you opened your eyes to see your favorite striker looking down at you, her usual dimples absent from her face, replaced with a frown of concern.

"Hi, hermosa. How are you feeling?" Claudia questioned, voice dripping with care.

"Hurts." Your response came out choked, and you felt a tear slip down your cheek. Claudia carefully wiped it away, still looking into your eyes, as if she could take your pain away if she only knew the extent of it.

"I'm sorry, amor. Let's get you home, yeah?" You nodded, and allowed her to help you sit up. She helped you strap the boot onto your foot, and she chuckled lightly when you glared at the crutches, instead of taking them from her outstretched hands.

"You want me to ask Ingrid if she'll carry you?" Claudia teased, knowing you would rather crawl to the car than ask someone to carry you. You sighed, taking the crutches from her and standing, already hating the feeling of being so off balance. Claudia pressed a light kiss to your lips, before grabbing both of your bags, which you hadn't noticed her come in with. You headed to the car, and you quietly thanked her for grabbing your stuff, appreciating that she knew you wouldn't want to face the team right now.

You moved slowly, the standing position forcing blood to rush into your foot, and you winced in pain at every movement. Claudia patiently kept pace with you, opening the car door and helping you slide in. She put the crutches in the back, and made sure you were comfortable before climbing into the drivers seat. It was a fairly practiced routine; Claudia had spent a lot of time in a boot and on crutches last season, and now the roles were reversed.

As she drove, she reached over, grabbing one of your hands in hers, and brought it to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. You smiled weakly at her, and she squeezed your hand, keeping a hold of it in her lap. You settled in for the drive, focusing on taking deep breaths. You stared out the window at the pink-orange sunset, and actively worked to shove every single feeling you had down, locking your emotions into a little box. By the time you arrived home with Claudia, you felt numb, completely shut off from your feelings. You knew she could tell, and you knew she was actively trying to think of ways to bring you out of this shell, get you to be vulnerable.

You'd always struggled with showing your emotions, and allowing yourself to properly feel them. It had taken months before you allowed yourself to admit you liked Claudia, and several more months before you let her see you in any state that wasn't happy. Whenever something bad happened, she was forced to watch you retreat back into yourself, your first instinct to hide away any weakness. She hated it, but she knew you were just trying to protect yourself, and she had promised herself a long time ago to never let you push her away.

-----

It had been two weeks, and Claudia was practically bouncing off the walls in frustration. Two weeks of you resisting her help, of answering all her questions with one word answers. Two weeks since she'd since anything but a blank, straight face on you. She knew you were hurting; just like any player, you hated being injured and being forced to sit out. More than that, though, you really struggled with feeling useless. You couldn't DO anything, your broken ankle putting you on crutches for weeks. It was impossible to get around, to do most tasks without help, and you hated, hated, that Claudia had to take care of you. Of course, she didn't care, but her efforts to convince you of this had failed, and she could tell that you spent every waking moment trying to figure out how to be as little trouble as possible.

Claudia noticed the way you leaned into her every touch, even when you told her you could do something by yourself, and the way your hand would reach out to grab hers almost desperately in your sleep, as if afraid she would disappear . The only time Claudia had seen you consciously act like yourself, though, was when she had a nightmare, waking you up with her squirming. You had woken her up, pulling her into your arms and cradling her gently, wiping away her tears and soothing her back to sleep. The next morning, you had asked her if she was okay, and when she said that she was, you had gone back to acting like an emotionless robot.

She'd talked to some of your older teammates, and they'd stopped by, trying to get you to open up. All of them had failed; Lucy and Mapi with jokes, almost doing a standup routine in your living room, before blindsiding you with questions of how you were feeling, really. Ingrid with her sweet, comforting words, trying to melt your frosty exterior with kindess. Even Alexia and Irene's joint tough love approach hadn't worked. They'd all given up and left, but not before making you promise to reach out to them, day or night, if you needed anything.

Claudia was at a loss- she'd truly never seen you like this before, and she was going crazy worrying about you. You should have known, really, that it would only be a matter of time before she snapped.

-----

You were trying to get up off the couch, and get a snack from the kitchen when the tension between the two of you came to a head.

"What do you need? I can grab it for you." Her voice came from the doorway, having heard your clumsy movements.

"I got it," you replied, just as your crutch caught on the edge of the carpet, almost sending you tumbling forward. You caught yourself just in time, as Claudia lurched across the room to help steady you.

"Bebe, just tell me what you need, I'll grab it," she was almost begging at this point, and she could see you getting annoyed.

"I said I got it, Claudia," your tone was harsh, and Claudia felt all sense of restraint leave her body.

"Well, excuse me for trying to help, it seemed like you just almost face planted onto our carpet."

"Jesus, I don't need you hovering over me all the time, I'm FINE." You were almost shouting now, glaring at Claudia. You knew you were being unreasonable, but suddenly you were filled to the brim with anger and annoyance, and it had to go somewhere. Unfortunately, your sweet girlfriend seemed like the only option.

She shouted back. "Fine? You're fine? Fine is completely shutting down and refusing to talk about what you're going through? Fine is pushing yourself so hard on your physical therapy exercises that they had to tell you to take a break before you did more damage? Fine is treating me like you hate me any time I try to help you? Y/n, you are clearly not fine, and I am losing my mind trying to get you to admit it, it's infuriating."

Your reaction to her words was as if she'd hit you, and she realized her mistake a second too late. Your biggest fear was being a burden to her, and she'd just made it sound like you were exactly that. She took in your appearance, your messy ponytail, baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, and the dark circles under your eyes. Your expression made her heart hurt, one of fear and hurt. She was still angry, though, and she knew if she didn't stop this fight right here, you would lash out at her, and she would do the same.

"Alright, I need some air. I'm gonna go for a drive, maybe stop by Patri's for a bit, and we can talk when I get back," she turned away from you, grabbing her keys, and walking to the door before pausing, and facing you again. You were standing stock still, supported by your crutches, staring at the ground. "Please stay downstairs, and if you need something or something happens, call me. Please." You nodded, in response, avoiding eye contact, and she left the house, closing the door tightly behind her.

You stood in the same spot for a couple minutes, mind racing through the past couple weeks. You hadn't meant to be so distant and cold; you felt so guilty for needing her help with everything, you didn't want to make her deal with you emotions too. More than that, you didn't want to deal with how upset you were; you worried that if you let yourself feel it, it would swallow you whole.

Claudia was the most important thing to you though; more than football, more than anything. You'd give it all up for her, without a second thought. So, you promised yourself you'd try to do better, try to let her in more.

You still wanted a snack, so you headed into the kitchen. You went to open the fridge, but you'd positioned your crutches in the wrong spot, and the fridge door swung open, knocking one of the crutches out from under you. Off balance, you grabbed for the counter, but missed, your other crutch shooting out from it's spot next to you, and you tipped sideways, landing hard on your boot, before ending up sprawled on your back.

You groaned in pain, pounding your fist on the floor in frustration after a minute. Sitting up, you tried to take stock of your injury- it ached, but not to the extent that you were worried you'd made the break worse. You scooted back against the cabinets, and reached for your crutches, before realizing one of them had snapped during the fall. You hand't even know that was possible. You looked around for anything else to help you get off the cold hardwood floors, and found nothing. The counters were too high, one crutch wasn't enough. You were stuck.

Your foot hurt, you were hungry, you couldn't get up, and you just wanted Claudia. Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you didn't know if it was from pain, frustration, or if everything was finally just catching up to you. Taking a deep breath and forcing yourself to think logically, you tried to decide who to call. You knew Claudia had told you to call her, but you couldn't help but think that she deserved a break, and she'd much rather hang out with Patri than come pick you up off the floor.

You were left to decide between Ingrid and Mapi, and Alexia; you knew any of them would drop everything to come help. Although Alexia was fully capable of helping you, and she lived closer than the other girls, you knew she'd call Claudia, and probably drag you off to a doctor to get your ankle checked again. So, with a shaky hand, and the thought that you were incredibly glad you'd had your phone in your pocket, you dialed Mapi's number.

"Hola nena, what's up?" You noted a hint of concern already present in her voice, and you knew it was because you calling her on the phone was not a normal occurrence. You'd text, or facetime, but never call.

"Um... are you and Ingrid around?" You tried to keep your voice steady, but you don't think it worked.

"Si, we're just at home. Why, what's wrong?"

"I um. Fell in the kitchen. And one of my crutches broke, and I can't get up. And Claudia is out and I don't want to bother her. Could you guys come and help me?" You felt your insides twist in embarrassment ; you hated this, hated it more than anything.

"Shit, of course. Are you okay?" She sounded frantic suddenly, and you hated that you'd worried her.

"Yeah, my ankle hurts a bit from how I landed, but I'm fine."

"Good. We're on our way, just hang tight until we get there, vale?" Mapi sounded reassuring, and you let her words wash over you, trying to relax.

"Si, thank you Mapi." Your voice was thick, and you felt yourself losing your tight grip on your mask of stability. You willed yourself to hold it together for a little longer, just until Claudia got home.

Your friends must have broken several traffic laws because they were at your house within 10 minutes when it normally takes 20. They came bursting through the door, rushing into the kitchen. They came to a stop at the sight of you, taking in your dejected form sitting on the ground. Your crutches lay next to you, one broken, and you looked up at them pathetically, eyes glossy.

"Oh, honey," Ingrid cooed, before walking forward and gathering you into her arms. They'd never really seen you like this before; it was clear you were growing more and more emotional with every passing second. This was emphasized by the way you curled into Ingrid as she carried you to the couch. She set you down, and you buried your face in your hands, trying to take slow, deep breaths, and stave off the breakdown you felt coming.

Ingrid sat next to you, rubbing circles onto your back, as Mapi crouched in front of you, taking off your boot gently, and inspecting your ankle.

"It looks okay. If it feels worse or different tomorrow, you should go in, but I think you're fine for now," she stated confidently .

You wanted to make a joke and ask her where she got her medical license from, but when you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that came out was a choked sound, before you dissolved into loud, pained sobs. The couple looked alarmed at the strength of your cries, but not really surprised at the appearance of them. Their immediate instinct was to let you cry it out, but it quickly became clear that you were only growing more and more upset, your cries becoming louder, and your breaths falling shorter and faster.

They tried to calm you down, but nothing seemed to work. Ingrid wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly against her, while Mapi gently stroked her thumb up and down where her hands sat on your knees. They took turns talking to you, trying to guide your breaths, and get you to relax, but none of it seemed to help. You brought your hands to your chest, really hyperventilating now, trying in vain to slow your breathing down. You didn't know what was wrong with you; you were filled with anxiety and anguish and you couldn't, for the life of you, pull yourself together and stop crying.

"Cariño, what can we do," Mapi asked rather desperately.

You wracked your brain for something that would make you feel better, and your mind could only come up with one thing.

"Claudia. Please," you managed to gasp out, and Mapi was whipping her phone out, speaking rapidly to Claudia on the other end. You were only getting more and more panicked, resting your head against the Norwegians chest, trying to focus on her heartbeat. You closed your eyes tightly, only opening them when you felt yourself being pulled out of Ingrid's arms and into another set.

Opening your eyes, you saw Claudia looking down at you, anxiety written clearly across her face. More time must have passed than you thought, and if you hadn't still been so panicked, you would have wondered if you'd passed out. You collapsed against her in relief, and she pulled you to lay against her chest, propping herself up against the arm of the couch. You rested between her legs, ear pressed over her chest, as she wrapped her arms around you, bring one up to tug your ponytail out and lightly run her fingers through your hair.

It took a while, but the sound of her heartbeat, the comforting motions of her hands, and the smell of her laundry detergent and perfume, invading your senses from where your nose pressed against her sweatshirt, all managed to calm you down. Your tears came to a slow stop, save for the occasional sniffle, and your breathing returned to normal. You realized Claudia was talking quietly to you then, and you tried to focus on her words.

"-got you. I'm right here, you're gonna be okay. I love you. So much. You're gonna be just fine." Her voice was soothing, and you felt the last of the tension leave your body. You were content to just lay there, surrounded by Claudia, but after a couple more minutes, she nudged you and sat up, keeping both of her hands on you, not willing to let you go.

"How are you feeling, amor? That was pretty intense." She spoke quietly, and you appreciated it.

Clearing your throat, you responded, allowing yourself to be honest for the first time in a while. There was no reason to pretend to be fine anymore- it was abundantly clear that you weren't.

"Tired. Better, I think though? Especially now that you're here." Your response was shaky, and she leaned in closer to you, pressing her side up against yours. It was only then that you noticed that Ingrid and Mapi were gone. You made a mental note to thank them, profusely, later.

"Good. I'm glad you feel better," she paused. "I'm sorry I yelled earlier. It's just really hard for me to see you like this, completely shut off from everything."

"I know, I'm sorry I yelled in the first place. I haven't been handling this very well," she scoffed at that, and you managed a smile. "I know that how I've been handling it isn't healthy, and I'm gonna try to do better." You made eye contact with her as you spoke, and you could tell she was hopeful that you were being genuine.

"I love you. You aren't ever a bother, or a burden. Taking care of you is something I am happy to do, always." She sounded so earnest, so eager for you to believe her, that you didn't really have any other choice. "I know it's really hard for you to accept help, but I'm not going anywhere, so you're gonna have to get used to it." You smiled then, a real smile, pulled her into a hug.

"Thank you, I love you. Te quiero mucho." She pressed several kisses to the side of your head in response before pulling back.

"Nap?" She asked, taking in the way your eyelids drooped, and the way you sagged against her.

"Si, por favor," you responded, and without another word, she pulled you back into her arms, nestled against her chest. She tugged the blanket folded over the back of the couch down on top of the both of you, and you snuggled into her, letting out a sigh of contentment. You were already falling asleep, and Claudia was finally relaxed, truly believing that you were going to be better about letting her in.

#woso imagine #woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni x reader #claudia pina #claudia pina x reader

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thefreakandthehair · 2 months

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February 14th, 1987

Eddie barely hears the quick knock, knock, knock on the front door of the trailer over his music: a Dio cassette cranked up to a soothing billion and five decibels. Funny enough, it’s a cassette that Steve had gifted him as part of a group Glad You Didn’t Die present when he left the hospital. Everyone from Corroded Coffin to Nancy Wheeler contributed something, but Steve made sure to get Dio. Eddie likes to think that maybe wearing his vest all that time rubbed off on Steve.

He hardly registers it, but the knocking continues, a second round of three taps. Eddie sighs and does some quick mental calculations– Steve is on a date, Robin is with Nancy, Jonathan is with Argyle, and Lucas took Max to the movies. No one else has a license or is within walking distance, so unless one of the kids convinced Claudia Henderson to drop them off without warning, there’s only one logical explanation.

“The Men in Black have finally come to throw me in the back of a van and drag me to their lab,” Eddie mutters to himself, dropping his pen onto the open journal and rolling off his bed.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’, Jesus Christ.” He calls out as he makes his way to the door. The two-bedroom trailer is larger than their old one, the hallway longer from his room in the back.

A cold chill slips in from the cracks around the door before he even gets to the doorknob, but his blood runs warm when he yanks it open.

Steve Harrington, in his cozy red sweater, dark jeans, and perfectly fluffy, coiffed hair is standing on his doorstep with one hand on his hip. That one hand is gripping a bouquet of roses that match his jumper and for a brief moment, Eddie wonders if his journal has been lifted from a fantasy novel. What he’d just put into words on the page is now standing in front of him— what does one say to their fantasy showing up at their doorstep?

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Okay, maybe not that. But seriously, what in the name of Molly Ringwald is happening right now?

read the rest of been on fire, dreaming of you here on ao3!

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myfic #sweetandspicyexchange

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 8 months

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Eddie Munson would call his period his demon. He would definitely be grumpy as hell as it finished up.

"I can feel it leaving my body," Eddie would mutter as he aggressively cuddled into Steve’s side. "And the fucker is kicking shit over on the way out. I'm sorry I was so mean."

"I can hardly hold it against you, baby," Steve said. "You were possessed. I would be pissed too if my own body was attacking me. If I could, I would kick your demon's ass."

"Aww, baby, I know you would," Eddie said and affectionately chomped down on his arm. "Love you."

"I love you too," Steve giggled as Eddie yawned sleepily against his chest.

"I'd crack open your chest and crawl inside to sit inside your heart if I could," Eddie muttered. "You'd be able to bring me everywhere."

Steve gazed lovingly at him as he he stroked his hair. Meanwhile, Dustin was staring at them with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"Steve. . .blink twice if you're being held hostage by Eddie's demon," Dustin said.

"Why is he here?" Eddie whined.

"Claudia and Wayne wanted us to watch him while they went away," Steve said.

"Right," Eddie said, yawning again.

"I don't even know why?! I'm fifteen, and I don't need a goddamn babysitter!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Wayne calls you the baby when you're not around," Eddie replied.

"Goddamnit!"

"And so the demon claims another poor soul," Eddie said before falling asleep.

"I'm not - ," Dustin started to say.

"Shh! He's asleep."

A/N: I'm not Trans but I do love Trans Eddie, and this is how I talk about my period.

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #dustin henderson #henderdads #henderfam #claudia x wayne #trans eddie munson #steddie ficlet

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piratefishmama · 9 months

Text

Finders Givers | Part 2

“STEVEN MARION HARRINGTON.”

“Not my middle name.” Although Robin had made several valiant attempts in guessing it every time she needed to burst into his office all guns blazing. Which was unfortunately… often. She still hadn’t managed to crack it.

He didn’t actually have a middle name. He wasn’t going to tell her that though, this was funnier.

She slapped a sheaf of papers down onto his desk, a brief flick of the first page told him they were call logs and transcripts “What did you DO?! Claudia’s been getting calls all morning asking about renovations?”

“Okay, so, in my defence. It was Nancy’s idea.” That was his whole defence. It was Nancy’s idea. His idea had been worse.

“Explain.”

“You know, most people in my position don’t have to explain themselves to people who work for them, their people just respect them, and do as they say without argument.” He mused, mostly to himself, but he could see the woman’s eye twitch in annoyance and so he sighed in defeat, it’d only wind up with him having those papers whapped around his head. “Remember the wallet I found?”

“The one that was bumming you out?”

“Yeah! Well, when I went out for a walk, I found the guys work address and—”

“You know we have guys who do that sort of shit for us, right? You can’t be stalking people, Dingus, what the fuck?” That sheaf of papers was dangerously close to hitting him. She’d picked them back up an everything.

“Just listen! He was at work, I didn’t talk to him or anything I’m not stupid, but... his manager made this girl cry so he just decked him, laid him out, one punch an he was down, then he just quit his job, right there, shit was spectacular.” Steve could appreciate a good bit of muscle, could appreciate a scrapper. Plus the guy was hot so, that helped. “Doesn’t look like his photo either, he’s got so much hair, Robs, it’s... wow, he’s just—”

“Ew, I don’t wanna hear about your crush on some random guy, what’s this got to do with these renovations Claudia’s being spammed over?”

“Okay so, guy lost his job.”

“Quit, quit his job.”

“Defending a ladies honour, something I thought you’d appreciate.” She raised a single unimpressed brow “but, I... I was gonna just send him rent money for a few months, y’know, cover a few bills, charity!” His heart was in the right place, his head however, his head was in space.

“That’s not charity that’s stupidity, but go on.”

“That’s what Nance said! Apparently it’d be suspicious if I were to be found sending large amounts of cash in nondescript envelopes to an apartment block notorious for drug activity, so she suggested that since I’m already buying that bar nearby, it’d look less conspicuous if I just... bought the building the guy lives in and claim I was developing it, make it seem like I have an interest in building up local problem areas.” She frowned, silent in her thoughts as she processed.

“... And what about the rent forgiveness?”

“I was gonna pay for his rent, might as well just not have him pay rent, y’know? An it’s gotta be building wide or there’ll be questions, like why is he so special, it’d put him under scrutiny. So Nance suggested putting a stop on rent as we ‘renovate’ as a sort of, we’re disrupting your life so here’s a break for you kinda deal.” Honestly Nancy really was a life saver, he really ought to give her a raise, he’d have been fucked over years ago had he not pulled her into the fold.

“So that means we’re actually going to have to renovate this block then?”

“I mean—”

“Were going to have to renovate this block, Steve. We can’t just forgive the rent forever, that’s bonkers, that would raise eyebrows, and we can’t afford eyebrows being raised at us right now. So you’re going to have to have professionals go in and survey the apartments inside for renovations.” This was now an actual thing he’d have to do.

“Ah well, gives me something to occupy my time with. Also I was thinking—”

“Never a good sign”

“Shut up, I was thinking of putting Argyle in there as a plant, like... the drugs being peddled out of that block are just trash, at least we could get a solid dealer in there and get Argyle out of the Wheelers basement.” He’d only been staying there because Joyce didn’t have a basement and Jonathan didn’t have room for him.

He was Jonathan's friend, and Jonathan came with Nancy, Steve didn’t have any reason to help him out. Now he did! And that reason was getting those poor people better weed.

“Are you not worried that the existing dealers will start shit with him for moving into their turf?”

“They touch him they deal with Hargrove, he's been particularly irritable lately, anything could set him off, pretty sure he’d be jazzed to break a few legs.” Release some of that pent up rage he seemed so good at bottling up in tiny easily burstable bottles. “One visit from that nut job and they’ll settle right down.”

He didn’t like Hargrove, but he had to admit the guy was a useful enforcer. Indebted to Steve too after Jane had taken a nail imbedded baseball bat to his old employers head in a bid to help her friend Max escape the debt her stepdad had racked up with him. Billy had also been freed, being Max’s step brother, left unmoored and in danger of a jail cell.

Steve had taken them both in after getting rid of Creels corpse. It was Hopper’s idea. Billy wouldn’t have survived in jail, too many enemies in there.

“It only takes one hit to hurt Argyle beyond repair though, maybe get rid of the dealers in there already, then give Argyle one of the apartments.”

“See you’re already on board!” And there was the whack round the head with the papers, his sharp objection going ignored.

“Fine, I’m on board, but only because it’s Nancy’s idea.” She was retreating as she spoke “Yours was a trash fire, like, not just one of those little oil barrel fires I mean like a whole dumpster fire. Argyle stays out until it’s safe though, I mean it Steve, I will get Hopper involved.” She opened the door, ready to go.

“You can’t threaten me with my own Chief of Police! That’s so mean!”

“Watch me, dingus. Also you have two people downstairs from your little block purchase wanting more information, do you wanna deal with them or should I?”

“Do you think I could actually spin a good idea to explain this that won’t get immediately reworked by either you or Nance?” She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face that answered his question more than any actual answer would have. “Exactly, you deal with it, you’re better at timelines an stuff anyway.” He was more the big idea guy.

“Yeah but you’re better at people.” It was true, Steve was more the people person out of the two of them. “Fine, I’ll deal with it, and I’ll ask Nance to find some decent contractors to do the work for us. Maybe… drop into my office in like, ten minutes? Considering you let your dick lead you to places I wouldn’t even go with a gun, you should at least make an appearance for these people whose lives you’ve interrupted.”

“Ngghhh fine. Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” And she was out with a tiny salute as her goodbye.

Part 4

#PirateWrites #FindersGiversFiclet #Steddie #Mob Boss Steve Harrington #No Upside Down AU #Shady!Steve #CW: light-hearted stalker vibes

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formosusiniquis · 1 year

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There's something about the idea that every adult that spends more than ten minutes alone with Steve Harrington is instantly enamored with him

The King Steve era house parties don't get broken up by the cops anymore. Steve is too far from his nearest neighbors for a noise complaint and the cops who would do it like Steve. They know they don't have to worry about any underage drinking and driving incidents after a Steve Harrington party because anyone who doesn't have a DD just crashes at the Harrington place, it's not like they have to worry about getting out of there before his parents get home.

His teachers can't help but let certain things slide. Excusing a middle school Steve's tardiness, the Harrington house is such a long bike ride away from the school and the bus route doesn't reach the grounds of Loch Nora. High School Steve's grades are average at best and his attention drifts, but his questions if poorly worded are insightful at heart and if you catch him away from the friends he tries too hard to keep he's polite and willing to spend time discussing his school work. By senior year they're excusing his tardiness again, they all know he has to swing by the middle school on his way over; and his forgetfulness too, two concussions in as many years it's a wonder he's not worse.

Joyce Byers, who by all accounts should hate this boy who fought her son and belittled her family, already has a snag in her armor thinking about a little boy who used to bike to Melvalds all alone for more milk and the sugar dusted cereal his mother didn't like him to have. Has her walls damaged by Jonathan coming home with a Christmas present they both know Nancy Wheeler even in her middle class glory couldn't afford. Has the adoption papers ready to be notarized when that same little boy, just a little bit bigger, offers to cart her Will around town since he knows she and Jon are busy and he has nothing better to do; really, and Will is the only one that ever says please or thank you.

Hopper, who largely left the everyday police work to the other officers, didn't interact with Steve much until the Upside Down business started. He's ready to add Harrington to the list of kids he'd die to protect the second the bloodstained boy cracks open a bleary eye from the Byers' sofa. Concussed and happy for it since it meant the youngest ones were safe.

Claudia Henderson has decided that the law has little to do with family. She's seen too many young men in the hospital grieving loved ones they can't see while parents who don't care make decisions for the dying. Steve Harrington is hers now has been since he did her Dusty's hair. The Sinclairs only let Erica roam the mall on her own on days they know Steve is working. They know no matter what Erica and Lucas promise the two of them aren't staying together. There's something rotten in Hawkins, and the kids don't whisper as quietly as they think they do. They know there's something they are missing, but they don't need to know everything to know they can trust the boy who put himself bodily in front of their child to protect him. Karen still occasionally mourns the loss of Steve as a son-in-law but the fact that he still drives Mike around even on his surliest days, she couldn't ask for more.

Wayne Munson lasted the longest. A product of night shifts and a powerful wariness around anyone whose tax bracket exceeds his by more than one jump. But he knows the kind of skittish that Steve is, remembers an eight year old boy with eyes he hadn't grown into who used to skitter away from a sharp tongue or raised hand just the same. Even then all it takes is sitting next to Steve on a rare night off, the game fuzzing in and out on the TV, listening to him softly explain the rules of it all to his boy relating it back to the ones of that dragon game Eddie likes so much and he's gone. Steve's a hard worker, a wage slave as much as Wayne these days, seems wrong to begrudge him just cause the house he's kept at is a little bigger than theirs. There are worse boys to have as future in-laws, even if he is a Cubs fan.

The only person who doesn't seem to get the memo is Richard Harrington. So rarely around his own son he isn't swept up in the charm. Richard and Stephanie Harrington make their way back to Hawkins, unannounced on a Tuesday. The sleepy morning hours are still lingering when they make their way into the house, through the foyer, and onto the kitchen; following the sounds of crooning oldies. Richard has long thought his son a disappointment, too lazy to get into college and too spoiled to leave home, catching him dancing around the kitchen like a fairy with some trailer trash punk is really the last straw. He lets the wife he wishes he didn't have make some asinine comment to this freak that's in his kitchen, and turns to the child he never wanted to say, "I want you out, I won't have a queer living under my roof."

Stephanie and that long haired bastard both rear back like they've been slapped. While Richard is forced to watch as the son he's neglected straightens up, every ounce the man every other adult on Hawkins has watched him become, look him in the eye and say, "It's not your house, it never was. Grandpa Otis left it to me. So if you've got a problem with me or my fucking boyfriend, you can get out of my house. Looks like you're already packed."

That empty house gets emptier as Richard, alone, takes the furniture he paid for and the clothes that lingered in the closet; but it's quickly filled with the hand-me-downs of everyone who has ever fallen for that Harrington charm. They're all too happy to help Steve fill what's his.

#steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie #steve harrington hc #wayne munson #joyce byers #chief hopper #jim hopper #steve harrington's parents #i find steves mom to be fascinating and i genuinely think she really loves her son #i think she saw her boy happy in the kitchen with eddie and immediately wanted to meet him #maybe made a comment about eddies hair like mother like son #i think theyre relationship is extremely complicated but i think push come shove her son will always beat her husband #i couldnt think of a good way to work the buckleys in here but they also think steve would be an excellent son in law

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patchworkgargoyle · 10 months

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Booty 🌿

Steve has a plan, and Eddie falls for it. || read on ao3

Here it finally is, folks! My first smut for the ST fandom. I hope you like it!! Inspired by this post.

WC: ~4.8k || E || CW: Unsafe sex

“Please, Eddie?”

“Are you insane, Steve? It’s hotter than Satan’s taint out there, you cannot expect me to peel myself off this couch.”

Eddie heard a frustrated sigh and a small thud, imagining that Steve had let his head drop on the wall by his phone. “Yeah, I’m aware, I’m sweating buckets right now. But I gotta have the car fixed before tomorrow, I promised Claudia I’d pick up Dustin from the bus station and I can’t do that if it won’t start.”

Thing was, Eddie did kinda want to go and help him, heatwave be damned. They’d grown close in the months since spring break and despite his previous misgivings Eddie had gotten to like Steve. More than he should, really. He can’t help it if his queer little heart does a jig every time he manages to make Steve laugh in that eye-crinkling, head-tipped-back kind of way. Got good at it too, which made Eddie feel a great deal of selfish pride. And if he can’t take his eyes off the long lines of Steve’s mole-dotted neck, that’s his own business.

But this was something else. As soon as Steve called to ask if Eddie would help fix the Bimmer he couldn’t get the thought of him–sweaty and greasy and bent over the open hood of the car, his hair falling just so and lip bitten between his teeth in concentration–out of his dirty little mind. The things he’d want to do. It did as much to convince Eddie to go as it did to make him want to keep his distance.

He was a weak man, however.

“Fine. Alright. But you’d better make it worth my time, I’m risking my pale, un-sunburnt ass for this.”

Steve snorted. “Don’t worry, I will,” he said blandly.

They hung up after Eddie promised to be there in a few minutes, and he rolled off of the couch with a melodramatic groan. Moving in the muggy heat trapped inside the trailer sucked, but he wasn’t going to back out. Steve had sounded so relieved when he’d said goodbye that it gave Eddie enough pep to lurch his way to the kitchen to grab a few cold beers before scrambling into his van. He appreciated his own forethought when he burned his hand on the door handle and could hold a cold bottle against the spot. Fucking summer.

Parking in the Harringtons’ driveway, he spotted the Bimmer pulled halfway into the garage, the front shaded by the overhang in what must be an attempt to avoid the worst of the sunlight. The hood was popped open, but Eddie couldn’t see Steve.

“Ohh Stevie!” he sang, “your knight in shining armour has arrived!” He heard something thunk from the garage but got no response, so he wandered inside, trying to peer around the hood. “I come bearing gifts but they’re gonna get–”

Wheels squeaked from below and Eddie looked down, only to be treated to the sight of Steve’s legs, long and hairy and sprawled open, flexing as he dragged himself out from under the car on the creeper and revealing more inches of mouth-watering thighs. He was–oh fuck, Steve was wearing the tiniest cut-off jean shorts Eddie had ever seen, the fabric of the pockets poking out from under the frayed hems. They were tight, too, hugging his hips and, god, his bulge. The white tank top Steve wore had ridden up, too, exposing the trail of hair that dipped below the fucking shorts, but Eddie followed it up, along the grease stains and the swell of his pecs to Steve’s grinning face.

“...Hot.” Eddie’s voice cracked around the word.

“What was that?” Steve asked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie said, “The beer, it’s uh, gonna get hot.” Somehow he managed to not sound like he was choking on his own drool while Steve still stared up at him from the ground, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. There was a slight smear of dirt across his cheek and Eddie wanted to lick it off.

“You know where the fridge is, Eddie, if you’re that worried.”

“Nah, you look like you need a break. Get up here,” he said, waggling the bottle over Steve’s face. Steve chuckled but finally stood and relieved Eddie of the misery of seeing Steve on his back and not having been the one to put him there.

He popped the caps off with the bottle opener on his keychain, and Steve took his with a ‘thank you,’ downing half in a few gulps. Eddie distracted himself from the sight of Steve’s throat bobbing by peering over at the engine.

“So what’s the issue, doc?”

Steve pulled away from the bottle with a soft popping sound from his pink lips and a gasp. “Dunno yet. That’s why I called you,” he said, leaning on the car beside Eddie. “Oil and battery are fine, spark plugs look good too.”

“She been making a sputtering kind of sound recently? Could be the throttle.”

“Nah, no weird noises.”

Eddie hummed, then set his bottle aside. “Alright, let’s get underneath her then.” Lowering himself onto the creeper and sliding under the car, he said, “Could be a belt has finally busted. Got a flashlight?”

“Really need to ask that?” Steve’s voice got fainter as he walked a little ways away. “The kids insisted on a disaster preparedness kit after round two with the Upside Down.”

There was a tap on the wood under Eddie’s hip, and blindly he reached down to grab the flashlight Steve found. He tinkered around under the Bimmer, unable to wipe away the sweat that started to drip and stick his bangs to his forehead. But eventually he began to roll back out into open, but no less stupidly hot, air.

“Looks like everything’s shipshape, captain–” Eddie choked on his own words when he looked up and was met with a sight straight out of his wet dreams.

Steve stood over Eddie, his legs spread wide enough that Eddie had rolled right between them. If he sat down, Steve would be straddling Eddie’s hips, but that would deprive him of this new angle at which to admire all of Steve’s assets wrapped so tightly in frayed, lightwash denim. Mouth falling open, Eddie let out an eloquent, “Uhhh,” and Steve laughed, holding out his hand.

“Thought you’d like a hand,” Steve explained, smirking.

He took it without thinking and let Steve haul him off the creeper board and up to his feet. A kick, and Steve sent the board skittering away underneath the car, but Eddie barely winced at the noise. He was too busy standing so close to Steve that they breathed the same humid air. If he so much as swayed, their noses would bump together. Christ, Steve had pretty eyes, a bright, warm brown flecked with amber even in the shade of the garage and he swore he could see Steve’s pupils dilate the longer their gazes locked together.

“So, what were you saying?” Steve asked in a low tone. He tilted his head ever so slightly and those eyes held some kind of dare within them, one eyebrow ticked upward. Eddie couldn’t help swallowing, licking his lips, and Steve went from staring into Eddie’s eyes to down at his lips.

“Just saying that, that everything looked fine. Might, uh, might be the crankshaft or the–” Steve stepped forward just enough to bring their chests together, the back of Eddie’s knees hitting the bumper, and Eddie’s breath hitched, his voice cracking, “–the sensor.”

“Eddie.” The way Steve said his name sent a frisson of heat through Eddie, right to his dick, which was becoming a very obvious guest between them.

“Yeah, Stevie?” he whispered.

Broad, warm hands wrapped around Eddie’s slim hips. Steve worked a finger through a belt loop on each side and tugged, and Eddie realised he wasn’t the only one with a hard on when Steve’s pressed up against his own, pulling a hiss of pleasure from them both. Oh, shit. Leaning impossibly closer, Steve’s lips brushed against Eddie’s when he spoke. “I don’t care about the car right now.”

That snapped whatever faint, lingering reservations Eddie had. “Fuck, Stevie, please kiss m–” He didn’t even finish before Steve’s lips crashed into his, plush and hungry. It wasn’t long before Eddie began to nip and lick, his teeth drawing short, pleased noises from Steve’s mouth before he pulled back a scant inch.

“Fucking finally,” Steve said, and dove back in, biting back, making Eddie groan. His hands found their way to Steve’s sides, then, spurred on by Steve’s enthusiasm, he reached down and grabbed at his ass. His fingers wrapped under the hem and he yanked Steve’s hips in and up, rising to meet them.

Steve’s cock grinding against Eddie’s was a fucking revelation. From the way Steve’s mouth parted with a hot gasp, Eddie guessed he felt the same. “Hold on, baby,” he rasped, and using what leverage he had, Eddie hoisted Steve onto his lap, Steve’s knees spread and braced on the car. There was no way he could keep them there for long, but fuck it was hot, rutting their hips together while they kissed, wet and messy.

Eddie tasted the salt of his own sweat when Steve licked into his mouth and moaned, hands fisted into the denim in his grip, feeling more sweat beginning to drip down his back. The heat was stifling, but nothing compared to what started to grow in Eddie’s gut. One of Steve’s hands buried in his curls and pulled, had Eddie bucking up and whimpering around Steve’s tongue. He could come like this, dry humping on top of the Bimmer, lap full of Steve in those shorts, hands on his perfect ass, would’ve if the idea weren’t more embarrassing than hot.

“St-Steve, wait,” Eddie panted, whining again when Steve’s hand clenched in his hair again.

“Why’d you stop? Don’t wanna stop, Eddie,” Steve groaned, before a little more clarity seeped into him and he leaned back into his arms, concerned. “Or, shit, wait, is this okay?”

“God, fuck yes this is okay. Been thinking about this forever, man.” Steve smiled widely, verging on a little goofy, before ducking in and pressing open-mouthed kisses to Eddie’s throat. Eddie’s arms began to shake. His legs had long since begun to tremble. “But, hang on, ah, I’m gonna either drop you or come in my shorts in like two minutes if we don’t rethink this.”

All that did was make Steve start rocking into him again. “Hot,” he mumbled as he licked up a trail of sweat under Eddie’s jaw, making Eddie swear and tip his head back.

Eddie’s knees decided to buckle right then. They shouted, Eddie scrambled, locking Steve in his arms and getting his feet under himself before standing, his hands still hooked around Steve’s ass while Steve’s legs clung to his waist. Steve’s shocked expression likely matched Eddie’s, before he rested his forehead against Eddie’s and laughed so hard his body shook. Helpless, Eddie joined in, holding Steve close while their giggling faded out. But his arms were aching so, gently, he put Steve down.

“Do you wanna stop?” Steve asked. Eddie shook his head.

“You?” Steve shook his. “Thank fuck,” Eddie said. He ran his hands over Steve’s ass, over the crease of his thigh, the tips of his fingers tickling the hair on the back of his thighs before guiding him close again. “Didn’t wanna let you go now that I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Steve dove into Eddie’s mouth with a hungry groan. The slick sounds of their lips echoed in the garage. With a tug, Steve turned them around and backed up into the car, his hands wandering underneath Eddie’s cut up Iron Maiden tee and clutching at his sides, over the fresh demobat scars, nails digging in bluntly.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off Steve either. He pawed at whatever he could, finding the places that made Steve pant and hum into his mouth. But he wanted more, because Eddie has always been a bit greedy. One hand snaked its way around to cup Steve through the shorts that barely contained him, pressing his fingers around the hard outline of Steve’s cock and squeezing, rubbing. The low, raspy moan he got for his efforts made Eddie grin wolfishly.

Head lolling back, Steve breathed hard and rose to meet each stroke of Eddie’s palm. Eddie began to bite and suck his way down the strong line of Steve’s neck, biting every mole he could find. “E-Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”

The words made Eddie bite down just shy of too hard. Steve whined, and Eddie lapped at the spot in apology. “I wanna, I wanna so bad, Steve, but we’re fucking filthy, sweetheart,” he mumbled into Steve’s neck.

“Don’t need to do anything. I, mmh, prepared for this.”

Eddie pulled back to blink at him in disbelief. “You what?”

“I’ve been wanting this for months and nothing was working! So I just, made this as obvious as I fucking could.”

“Months?” Eddie’s jaw dropped when Steve gave him a look that managed to be both fond, flirty, and frustrated. “I could’ve been fucking you for months!?”

“Or I could’ve been fucking you.”

That idea, as sexy as it was, had to be pushed aside before it managed to make Eddie’s horny little brain leak out of his ears. “Putting a pin in that, that’s absolutely gonna happen, but I wanna revisit something. You prepared?”

Steve smirked. “Yeah,” he said, simple and cocky and so hot Eddie could combust. Eddie tried to capture Steve’s lips again but Steve stopped him with a firm hand against his chest, pushing Eddie back a few steps. Turning, he closed the hood of his car and instead of twisting back around to face Eddie, Steve leaned on his arms and arched his back.

Now that was a sight. Steve’s long, tan legs spread just so, one knee cocked to give a slight tilt to his hips. The firm, round swell of his ass peeking out under the denim that struggled to hold together. And right on the apex of those pretty, biteable, jean-clad cheeks: two dark, dirty handprints. There’s even the blackened imprint of fingers on Steve’s skin. Eddie’s fingers, Eddie’s hands. His cock twitched against his zipper and he moaned out, “Ohhh my god…”

Looking over his shoulder, Steve’s smug smirk grew, and he tilted his hips up a little further. “I know I look good, Munson, but are you gonna do something about it or what?”

Eddie stepped forward and draped himself along the expanse of Steve’s back, rutting his hips into Steve’s and making him hum sweetly. “Don’t have to get bratty about it, baby,” he said. He dragged his fingers along Steve’s sides, letting his nails catch on the soft texture of Steve’s scars before dipping down and popping his button open in one swift motion. “Tell me how you prepared.”

He felt the shiver his words evoked run down Steve’s spine. As he slid the zipper down and slid his hand in to find Steve had gone commando–both of them groaning when Eddie’s hand wrapped around Steve’s leaking, twitching cock–Eddie nuzzled into the dip between Steve’s ear and neck, inhaling the scent of his sweat and musk and the faint traces of a clean, fresh cologne valiantly hanging on.

“I, I got this toy. In Indy,” Steve gasped as Eddie pumped him, pulling his cock out as his hand sped up the more Steve spoke. “Worked myself open on it.”

“What’dya think of?” Eddie squeezed.

“You,” Steve keened, jerking into Eddie’s grip.

“Fuck. God. Alright, enough of this.” Standing, Eddie took his hand away and ignored the needy noise Steve made to instead yank the shorts down. Steve only bothered to step out of one leg, having to kick his foot when they got stuck on his shoe. It made his cheeks jiggle. Eddie couldn’t resist giving him a few taps just to watch it again before spreading those cheeks with his thumbs. More dirt smeared over Steve’s dewy skin, but that was only the opening act. The true star of the show glistened with lube and twitched under Eddie’s hungry stare, already loose and used and ready for him. He held himself back from burying his tongue in Steve’s hole, but just barely, letting out a low, hungry rumble instead.

Eddie couldn't move fast enough after that. He grappled with his belt, popped the button of his shorts and shoved them and his boxers out of the way enough for his cock to spring out without help. Then he stepped forward. Eddie let out a shuddering gasp when his aching cock met the searing heat of Steve’s taint and smeared precome along it, echoed when Steve sighed unsteadily as his head slipped up, up, up. Brushed over Steve’s hole once, twice, before catching on the rim.

“Please, Eddie,” Steve whined as he pushed back, and who was Eddie to deny such a pretty request?

He thrust forward and sank into Steve with a slick sound and such little resistance that Eddie’s jaw dropped open in a soundless moan, eyelids fluttering at the hot, wet clench of muscle around him. Another thrust and Steve groaned thickly, his head tilting back so Eddie could see how his bitten-red lips parted deliciously.

“Steve, you good? Please tell me you’re good. Fuck. I wanna fuck you so bad, you feel so good, hot, please Steve,” Eddie begged and rambled, his hands shaking with the need to grab and pull and take.

“If you don’t fucking start right now I’m leaving–”

That was all the permission Eddie needed.

He sank slowly past that ring of muscle and Eddie didn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed about the high-pitched, breathy whine that escaped him. Steve really had prepped, just loose enough and slick enough, but he still took his time. He wanted to savour this, the way he slid into Steve’s tight heat, how the feeling made his legs tremble and his stomach clench. Steve deserved the caution. At first, at least.

“Tell me,” Eddie demanded, needing to talk to distract from the sheer feeling of bliss of being enveloped by Steve. “Tell me about what you were thinking when you fucked yourself on that dildo.”

Steve’s head tilted back with a moan, his brows drawn together, and Eddie longed to bite and lick the strong column of his throat, but he didn’t want to get distracted. He wanted to know.

“I thought about your fingers, first. Those rings, fuck, they drive me nuts. Wish you’d worn them today.” Eddie gave his hips a firm squeeze, fingers spread wide to catch as much soft skin as he could, and grinned when he felt Steve clench around him and heard a stuttering breath.

“I’ll wear them next time, big boy. Wanna see how good they look when I’m jerking you off.” The appreciative groan caused by Eddie’s words was divine.

“God yes. Next time.”

Of course it was then that the phrase sunk in. Next time. Eddie hadn’t even noticed he’d said it but Steve repeating it had something other than raging hormones rising in his gut. He didn’t even have time to process the implication because Steve kept going, and started meeting Eddie’s thrusts with small movements of his own.

“Then I thought about your dick. Y’know, it’s so hard not to stare when you get out of the pool.”

“Did you?”

“Duh.” Steve shot a bitchy look over his shoulder. The usual power behind the look was lost in the bright red flush on his face. It completely fell apart when Eddie shifted and hit somewhere new, Steve’s mouth dropping open with a guttural noise that made Eddie’s cock twitch. “S-shit, it’s so perfect,” he said.

Steve’s head hung loose from his shoulders, forehead resting on the hood of the car, needy, lingering moans bouncing off the metal, breath and sweat condensing on it while Eddie inched further into him every time he slid out and pressed back in. With his palms on the Bimmer, Steve used the leverage to rock into Eddie, the muscles in his shoulders rippling under the white cotton tank starting to go translucent with sweat.

Watching his cock steadily disappear into Steve’s hole was addicting. He leaned back to get a better view of how he split Steve open between the grimy handprints he’d left on the globes of his ass, placed his hands there again and dug his nails in, making Steve’s hips jerk so that Eddie sank the rest of the way with a groan.

“God, Eddie,” Steve mumbled, “fuck, you feel so. So, uh, so good.”

“Y-you too, baby.” Eddie could barely form words. The tight pressure around his cock threatened to end things there and then, but Eddie closed his eyes and breathed, letting the fire and the urge and the want die down to a less immediate threat. But then he opened his eyes, saw how good they looked locked together, the way his darker thatch caught against the lighter brown hairs decorating Steve’s ass, both of them wet from the lube he’d pushed out of his hole, and jesus fucking christ he didn’t want, he needed.

Pulling out slowly and bracing Steve’s hips with a punishing grip was the only warning he gave before snapping forward with a loud grunt, the slap of damp skin a filthy echo in the garage. Steve cried out at the second hard thrust, choked off when Eddie kept going, his hips picking up speed.

“Good?” Eddie gasped. Nodding, Steve uttered a desperate, pleading ‘yes’ that made him fuck into Steve faster.

“Look so fucking hot, Steve,” he started babbling, his voice reedy with pleasure. “God, my handprints on you. Want ‘em to stain, be there forever.” Steve moaned and Eddie felt him tighten around his cock. “Like that, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, fuck, I do, I do!”

Eddie leaned forward, draped himself across Steve’s back, and the angle was so fucking good, so much better, and he knew he’d started pounding into Steve’s prostate by the way his gasps had turned into a delicious mix of thin moans and choked out grunts. Fucking him into the car, Eddie let his hands roam. He rucked up the tank top, watched as the last of the dirt on his hands smeared over Steve’s perfect, scarred skin like loving and greedy claw marks. Finding a nipple, he pinched and squeezed until Steve writhed and squirmed.

Then Steve reached up. Buried a hand into Eddie’s hair, grabbed a handful and pulled.

“Oh fuck!” Eddie whined, his hips stuttering, the pain mixing with pleasure and zinging down his spine.

Steve chuckled, unsteady and breathy but so self-satisfied. “Thought about this… for so long, Eddie.”

“Thinkin’ about me so much, sweetheart. I’m honoured. What, hah, what did you think about?” he asked into Steve’s neck, lips catching on his skin, tempting him to lick, to bite. He did, groaning at the taste of salt.

“This. On your couch, by the pool, my bed, anywhere. Been desperate for it.” Steve pulled Eddie closer by his hair while he bounced back on Eddie’s cock as if to prove it. “Or, shit, bending you over that throne of yours and fucking you into it.” Eddie let out a pitchy whimper and Steve cooed in a way that could’ve been condescending but instead made Eddie melt. “But now, now that I know the kinds of fucking sounds you make–t-there, yes–I wanna take you apart. Slow a-and gentle until you’re a mess–”

He cut himself off with a broken moan. Eddie’s hips kept up their brutal pace with short, sharp, hard thrusts, the sound of their sweat-slicked fucking and and the jingle of Eddie’s belt buckle filling the room. His brain was nothing but static. The image was stuck in a loop like the end of a record left to spin. Eddie heard a desperate, animalistic whine and realised it came from himself.

“Close, baby?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded frantically, his lips dragging through beads of sweat dripping down his neck. He’d been holding it off, the fraying coil threatening to snap, his balls aching as they slapped into Steve’s asscheeks.

“You?” Eddie wanted to beg for Steve to be ready.

“Getting there, just, don’t stop,” Steve gasped.

Twisting, Steve pulled Eddie down to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, fingers tangled in his damp curls. Their tongues met sloppily. Shared panting breaths like trying to inhale each other. Eddie’s thrusts were starting to falter. He was going to shake apart at this rate. Might just shatter when he comes, the pressure and heat and need too much and so fucking perfect.

“Steve,” Eddie whined, and Steve’s eyes met his. “So good to me, Stevie, sweetheart. Feel so wet, fuckin’ beautiful. Nee–mmh–need you, need you to come, please baby, please.”

“Touch me,” Steve said, practically commanded, and Eddie wasted no time.

Spitting in his hand and hoping it was enough, Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s dick, mixing his spit with the shocking amount of precome leaking from the head and spreading it over his length. Christ he was hung. Steve let out a relieved sigh, which Eddie swallowed, smashing their lips together again while fucking hard enough that he rocked Steve into his fist. Steve started making little ah, ah, ah noises. Next time–please let there actually be a next time–he’d worship this cock in the ways he wanted to, the ways Steve deserved, but for now he pumped him mercilessly. Then, then.

Steve seized, a full-body tremble ripping through him as he came, pulsing in Eddie’s hand as he tightened around Eddie’s cock and he was so fucking gorgeous, plush kissed-red lips open in a silent scream, so hot and tight and, and, and–

With a hoarse shout, Eddie came too, rutting helplessly into Steve as he rode out the sparking shockwaves that also had him shaking, the wet sounds between them even more obscene with Eddie’s come slicking the way. He finally stopped when Steve’s whimpers sounded a little too sharp. Breathing heavily, Eddie braced himself on the hood of the car on weak arms to keep himself from collapsing on top of Steve, only letting his head rest in the crook of Steve’s neck where he left one final, achingly gentle love bite.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed contentedly, leaning his head against Eddie’s, their damp hair sticking together.

“Gonna pull out now, Stevie, okay?” When Steve just nodded lazily, Eddie slowly pulled out, both of them groaning at the feeling. And he couldn’t keep himself from parting Steve’s cheeks to see his come dribble out a little, feeling a great deal of pride and greedy satisfaction at the sight.

“Bit late to ask, but you’re still clean, right? After all those tests for the bat bites?” Steve asked, grimacing when he stood up. He was the perfect picture of debauchery, only wearing his rumpled, practically see-through tank top, socks, and shoes, with his hair a wild mess and sweat still dripping from his forehead. The dirty fingerprints and red marks starting to bloom on his neck and hips were Eddie’s favourite part.

“Yep, only time I’ll ever thank those shady government fuckers for poking me with all those needles.” Eddie grinned at Steve’s tired, but fond, chuckle.

Steve looked at the car with heavy-lidded eyes, then did a double-take. “Shit, I gotta wash that off.” There, on the shiny burgundy hood of the Bimmer, was the white splash of Steve’s come, stark against the dark colour. Eddie started cackling and Steve complained, “Dude, shut up, it’ll ruin the paint!”

“Gonna wash your car without these, Winnie the Pooh?” Eddie bent down to scoop up Steve’s shorts, dangling them from a finger. He laughed when Steve snatched them back with a glare that barely hid his begrudging smile. While he stepped back into them with a wince, Eddie said, “Interesting choice of clothing to work on your car, by the way.”

“Worked, though, didn’t it?”

“What?” Eddie’s eyes narrowed when Steve smiled innocently and shrugged before he wandered off to get a chamois towel and soap. And it clicked. “You planned this? You lured me in with slutty shorts?”

Tossing the towel up and catching it, Steve’s smile widened into something smug. “Yep.”

“Wait. Is the car even broken?”

Steve just offered Eddie another sly shrug and started wiping his come off the hood.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #sac scrawls stuff

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gunnerfc · 1 month

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Claudia Pina NSFW Alphabet (18+, minors DNI!)

A: Aftercare

She’s so soft and sweet after sex, very cuddly

B: Body Part (their favorite body part of themselves and their partner)

Claudia’s favorite body part is her thighs, she enjoys watching you get yourself off on her thigh

Her favorite body part of yours is your neck, she loves to leave little kisses all over your skin during sex

C: Cum (anything to do with cum)

Loves when you two cum at the same time

D: Dirty Secret

She does want the two of you to join the mile high club but she is a bit worried about being caught by your teammates, especially some of the older players who would tease both of you relentlessly

E: Experience (Are they experienced? Do they know what they are doing?)

She is experienced but since you two have been together, you both have learned to like new things

F: Favorite Position

Claudia loves going down on you so she loves being between your thighs

G: Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous?)

She’s been known to crack jokes here and there but she is mainly focused on you and your pleasure

I: Intimacy (How intimate are they during the moment?)

Sex with her is very sweet and intimate

J: Jack off (Masturbation HC)

Doesn’t have an opinion, if you got to get yourself off go for it, but she does enjoy watching you get yourself off using her body

K: Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Claudia loves praising you but also loves when you praise her and tell her how good she’s making you feel

L: Location (Favorite place to have sex)

Anywhere in either of your apartments or a hotel room if you happen to get roomed together

M: Motivation (What turns them on?)

If you praise her footballing skills, she’s over the moon. She loves hearing you compliment her

N: No (Something they wouldn't do)

She doesn’t want to do anything too public (at least not yet)

O: Oral (Preference on giving or receiving)

Claudia loves both but she does prefer to give most nights

P: Pace (Fast & Rough? Slow & Sensual?)

It changes each time you have sex depending on your mood but for the most part, it’s slow and sensual

Q: Quickie (Thoughts on quickies)

She doesn’t mind them, they usually happen in the mornings if you’ve spent the night together right before you leave for training or a game

R: Risk (Are they open to experimenting)

She’s open to trying some things eventually

S: Stamina (How many rounds)

You two go for 2-3 long rounds most times

T: Toys

She does have a strap she uses sometimes and she does want to eventually get one that’s double-ended so you both feel pleasure at the same time

U: Unfair (Do they like the tease)

You two tease each other a lot outside of the bedroom but in the bedroom, she teases you a lot more

V: Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make)

Claudia can be loud sometimes regardless if she’s in control but she’s not super loud that she’s worried someone might hear her

W: Wild Card (Random HC)

You two were almost late to training one day after you stayed the night at her place and you two couldn’t wait and ended up having a quickie in the shower before you left. You both had to play it off that you were stuck in traffic but you knew some of your teammates knew exactly why you were late but they didn’t say anything about it.

Y: Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

It’s on the higher side, she can’t get enough of you and can’t keep her hands to herself

Z: ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

You both fall asleep pretty fast after sex

#woso x reader #barca femeni x reader #espwnt x reader #claudia pina #claudia pina x reader

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maxsimagination · 3 months

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𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗱𝗮 - 𝗰.𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗮

warnings: tiny angst, putellas!reader

------

"incoming!"

i only had a few seconds warning before someone crashed into me, full force, and wrapped their arms around me. i already knew who it was based on the short stature of the person and the tightness of the hug.

"hey, pina colada. what's up?"

claudia finally let me out of her embrace, but kept her hand in mine. we walked together to the covered gym on the opposite side of the pitch to join the rest of our team. training went by somewhat quickly and we finished off with a 7 v 7 match.

both me and claudia were on the same team; jona wanted us to work on pairing up to score goals since the performance at our last game resulted in three goals from us alone.

once everyone was sufficiently sweaty and tired, jona told us to have a shower and get changed because there was a meeting about our upcoming game he wanted to hold. we all traipsed back to the locker rooms, and as per normal, claudia and i were attached at the hip.

"okay everyone into the meeting room!"

again, all twenty-something people on the team filed into the room and found a seat in front of the screen that had been set up.

claudia found a seat at the front, however me being on the taller side - matching frido in height, chose to sit on the floor in between claudia's legs. i caught the eye of my older sister, alexia, when she cocked an eyebrow at my actions with a smirk.

she was always poking fun at how close me and claudia were, never telling me outright that she thought we should be together but always insinuating something was there.

i discreetly flipped her off and got comfortable. we were halfway through the meeting when i felt claudia's fingers take through my now-loose hair. she was almost giving me a scalp massage but i knew she just liked to play with it. i leant back, my head falling into her lap as she continued to play with my hair.

finally we were allowed out of the meeting and i stood up, feeling my joints crack in the process.

everyone filed out and dispersed, most going their own ways for the day. however i stayed with claudia, and alexia joined us. we went to my car, planning on going to mine and alexia's shared apartment. "i call shotgun!" claudia yelled out and took off towards the passenger side door.

alexia only laughed and shook her head, making her way to the backseats. "i swear you're at our house more than your own, pina."

i just laughed at my best friend and sister, unlocking the vehicle and hopping in the drivers seat. we all drove home - to mine and alexia's home, claudia playing her music through the aux. when i got through the door i found the couch and flopped on it, letting out a sigh of relief.

claudia insisted we all watch a movie together, then promptly snatched the remote so she could choose what we watched. neither ale nor i minded, we were just happy to be sitting down. me more happy to have claudia happy.

alexia said she'd get us some snacks from the mini kitchen we have and left me and claudia to set up in the connected lounge. i looked across to the shorter girl sitting next to me and couldn't help but admire her. she was so engrossed in scrolling through our netflix that she didn't notice my fixed gaze.

butterflies erupted in my stomach whenever she subconsciously bit her lip or grin at a movie or series she saw. i knew there was a desire to be more than friends, but the logic part of my brain refused to accept the wanting. i didn't like the idea of risking loosing what we had between us already. claudia turned to look at me with a contagious grin. "do you wanna watch this?"

i glanced at the tv, nodding in agreement even though i had no idea what she had picked. "sure why not." claudia whipped back to the screen with excitement and i just watched with a loving smile on my face.

it was then that ale walked back into the room with an armful of snacks, placing them on the table. she picked up on my expression and its direction towards claudia, again raising her eyebrow at me. i pretended to not have noticed and tried to get comfortable.

eventually i gave up and shuffled closer to claudia. she curled up and leant into me, my arm instinctively went around her shoulders. we watched the series like that, getting through about five episodes before it was getting closer to dinner.

again, alexia said she'd cook, but yelled out for my help after a bit. "hermana, why don't you tell pina how you feel?" she spoke out of nowhere. "i don't know what you mean, ale." i could feel the blush staining my cheeks and knew that alexia would pick it up.

"come on, y/n. i see the way you look at her. and you guys are attached at the hip. and she's literally sitting in our living room right now, probably going to stay the night." i opened my mouth to argue but didn't have anything to come back with.

"i guess i just don't want to risk loosing her. what if she doesn't like me? i'd rather live with her as my best friend and hide my feelings then loose her completely." alexia hummed as she took in my words and moved about the kitchen. when she'd finished dishing up whatever she'd made, she spoke.

"i know you don't like risks but i can see that she has something more than friendship with you too. you can see it in both of your eyes. just talk to her."

she passed me mine and claudia's plates and we went back out to the girl sitting on our couch. she happily took her serving from my hands, thanking both me and alexia for feeding her. "anytime, nene."

unsurprisingly, claudia stays the night. we both head to my room, where i can't stop thinking about what ale said earlier. i hand some pjs to claudia who gladly takes them and goes to the bathroom to change.

we end up lying in my bed, side by side, when i gather up the courage to speak. "pina colada?" "yea what's up?" i take a deep breath and sit up properly. "i like you. like a lot. more than a friend." it almost comes out like a stutter, in short bursts. there was some silence and me thinking that i totally blew it, i don't have my best friend anymore, when she sits up and turns to me with wide eyes.

"really? like for real?"

"yes for real. i like you for real claudia." using her first name meant it was serious. she looked a bit shocked but slowly a smile started to grow on her face. "i like you a lot too. more than a friend." the butterflies came back to my stomach in an instant as i took in her words.

"does that mean i can kiss you?" it was bold and it came out of nowhere but thankfully the awkward silence was short lived this time as claudia leaned forward to connect our lips first.

i kissed her back until we needed to break for air. then there was cheering from the doorway. "girls please use protection and don't be too loud. i would like to sleep tonight." alexia stood in the doorway to my room with a knowing smirk on her face directed towards me.

"ale!"

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #claudia pina #claudia pina x reader #claudia pina imagine

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hysteria-things · 1 month

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FIVE

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and your former best friend chris sturniolo hang out for the first time in a long time.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 822

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added a promise? tag to make it easier to navigate!

nick is editing the recently recorded video when chris opens his door without knocking. nick lets out a yelp and aggressively takes off his headphones, staring up at his brother with horror and anger in his eyes. “for fuck sake!”

“stop yelling, it’s just me. have you heard from y/n?”

he gives him a look that looks like disgust, but his facial expressions are so similar that chris doesn’t know which emotion is which anymore. “not since the afternoon. why?”

“just curious,” he says, closing the door.

chris’s phone is on the kitchen island facing upwards. he taps the screen to see if there are any notifications, but there aren’t. he groans. it’s almost midnight, she has to be home by now.

as matt is walking into the kitchen, his phone goes off making him lunge across the island to grab it. matt stops in his tracks and looks at chris with wide eyes. “i’m confused.”

“keep on walking, lover boy,” chris says, holding up his hand in a shooing gesture. the boy rolls his eyes and opens the fridge. he stays hunched over the island, a smile appearing on his face when he sees it.

y/n l/n is typing…

he didn’t bother waiting for you to finish typing when he opened up snapchat. your bitmoji is on the bottom left corner above the keyboard, the three dots in the thought bubble moving from side to side as you type. a breath of relief was released from him when your message popped up.

Y/N

| i made it home

| see?

| fine you win

| thank you for keeping your promise :)

Y/N

| as always (unlike you😒)

| I SAID I WAS SORRY

Y/N

| i know i know i’m just kidding

| you're lucky claudia kept throwing up or i would’ve stayed there for wayyyy longer

| LMAO

| that must’ve been fun to witness😍

Y/N

| for sure

| are you free tomorrow?

Y/N

| i have no life

| so yes!

| cool!

| do you want to hang out?

| like the good old days🥹

Y/N

| sure why not?

| BET

| i’m going to text you to plan i hate using snapchat

| see you tomorrow :)

matt approaches next to chris. he’s sipping a root beer he got from the fridge a few minutes ago. “you’re going to hang out with y/n tomorrow?”

chris hides his phone by bringing it to his chest. he stares at him with a look of annoyance. “can you not snoop at my private conversations?”

he shrugs. “i wasn’t snooping. it just so happened to be in my eyesight.”

“get out of here, lover boy.”

you’ve been writing in your journal more frequently than you have anticipated. you’ve had this journal for a while but stopped for no apparent reason, but ever since the triplets, it’s been a number one priority in your eyes.

your brain moves faster than your hands, so you write down whatever your scrambled thoughts are telling you to. half the time you don’t even know what you’re writing.

that’s when you remember you’re supposed to hang out with chris today, so you place your pen into the crack of the book and start texting.

you get up from the bed and take a shower. after that, you find a decent outfit and throw it on. by descent you mean a black long-sleeve shirt and gray sweatpants. you’re basic like that.

walking to your parent’s room, your mother sits at her vanity putting the final touches on herself. you knock on the doorway, and she looks at you through the mirror and smiles. “hi, sweetie.”

“hey.” you reply. “so… just letting you know chris is coming over soon, even though you guys are going out anyway.”

“your father is in the car waiting.” she says, getting up and grabbing her purse. she grabs your shoulder lightly. “i’m glad you guys are starting to talk again.”

she kisses you on the head, exiting the room.

there is a knock at the front door, causing you to spring up from the couch.

you stand there for a beat before opening it. chris stands there with his hands in his pockets, lifting his head when he hears you. you look behind his shoulder and lift a brow. “your clones aren’t joining you today?

he laughs and shakes his head. “no. you didn’t ask for them.” you open the door wider for him to step in.

he looks around. “still feels like my second home.”

the heart inside your body flutters at the comment, but you clear your throat to distract yourself. “do you want anything? a drink or something?”

“i’m good, thanks.” he looks down at you, a grin plastered on his face. “i just want to hang out with you.”

biting your lip, you smile. “ask and you shall receive.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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