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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months

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Steve Harrington x shy fem!reader [4.7K] no one's ever gone down on you before and you're feeling a little shy about it. luckily, boyfriend steve is happy to show you what it's like. 18+

“I’ve never—” you swallowed, unsure of your words, hardly able to make sense of them when Steve Harrington was on his knees in front of you. “I mean, no one’s ever done this to me before.”

Steve Harrington. The Steve Harrington - as if he hadn’t officially been your boyfriend for almost two months now. Sometimes it was difficult to remind yourself of that, that the prettiest boy in town was all yours.

He’d changed since high school, was a little softer around the edges now, if you had the patience to look for the signs. Less cocky, still confident, but he’d dropped the title of ‘King’ like it stung him, taking on a gentlemanly demeanour that was much more princely. His hair wasn’t as styled, he didn’t care whatever other people said - not as much, anyway.

It suited him, this smaller crown. Less showy but still just as golden.

“Oh,” Steve replied, eyes wide with surprise but not judgement. “Shit, honey— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… assume.”

Steve took his hands from your bare knees like he’d been burned, his cheeks heated and his gaze apologetic. You couldn’t say anything in response fast enough before the boy was pushing himself up from the footwell of the BMW and back onto the seat with you. He looked panicked, like he’d done something wrong, like he’d done something terrible.

“Steve—”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked, I didn’t even think— well, I just thought—”

“It’s not like I’ve not done anything,” you were rambling. Panicked. “I’m not a virgin, I would’ve told you— it’s just, I haven’t— no guy has ever wanted to do that and—“

“No, no, it’s okay!” Steve still looked wide eyed, like you were going to hate him, like you were going to break up with him. “I mean, that part isn’t okay— the guys you’ve been with should’ve definitely wanted to do that for you— but it’s, it’s… just should’ve asked before—”

He hadn’t done anything wrong, you needed him to know that. It had been a typical end to your night, first dates leading to second dates and more - fancy dinners and planned nights to the cinema and turning into comfier and more casual outings as you grew closer. So he’d picked you up after his shift and you clambered into the front seat of his car in a pair of comfy sweats and a t-shirt that was far too old. Steve had driven you both to a burger joint, shared fries and a strawberry milkshake in the front seats of the BMW as the sun went down and before it was time to go home, he parked up somewhere quiet enough for talking to turn into kissing.

He was always sweet about it, letting you call the shots and set the pace and you’d grown bolder, learned what he’d liked — learned what you’d liked.

But it had stayed relatively tame, a few hickeys and Steve’s hair a mess but nothing too below the waistline, not yet.

It was why he’d been so surprised when you’d pushed him back into the seat, his head falling back in shock onto the headrest, the back windows already steaming up from the heat of it all. Steve’s lips had parted when you’d swung a leg over his lap, dropping yourself on top of him with a held breath, your chest tight enough to burn. And without any other preamble, you’d launched yourself forward again, sweet and teasing kisses turning into something hotter, more desperate, now that you could feel the hard length of him pressed against the cotton of your underwear.

His hands had flown to your bare thighs, gripping you there as you licked over his tongue and when you let out a quiet moan, Steve felt like he was going to lose it. His hands wandered higher, skimming along bare skin and underneath your skirt until his palms found purchase on your ass, squeezing at the fat there, helping your hips move against him until you were panting into his mouth and he thought he’d died and gone to heaven.

Everything he’d done wrong in his life, everything he’d tried to right, everything he’d tried to fix - you were his reward, he just knew it.

He got ahead of himself then, panicked at the feeling of you rutting along his cock, the length of it pressed under his jeans and you. He could feel how warm you were, the beginnings of a wet spot on the front of your underwear and you were holding his face in your hands as you kissed him like you were scared he’d stop.

It was enough to make his dick jump, twitching and leaking at every pretty sound you made, every graze of your teeth over his bottom lip as you kissed him more and more feverishly.

He was going to come, he could feel it. He knew it. The warm, tightening sensation at the base of his spine was blooming, his cheeks turning pink, his hips bucking into yours helplessly. He wasn’t going to come in his pants, not in the backseat of his car, not like this, not with you. You deserved more than that.

That’s when he nudged you back onto the bench and dropped to his knees between the seats, crammed down into the footwell but your legs were spread and he could see that little damp spot on the crotch of your underwear.

He wanted to lick over the cotton, tease himself as much as you before peeling the underwear down your legs and pocketing the material.

And then you’d stopped him.

“I want to,” you told him earnestly, your voice a nervous whisper. He watched you lick your bottom lips, eyes wide and trained on his. “I do. I wanna do everything with you,” you admitted shyly.

You paused and Steve waited, kneeling up between your legs so his attention wasn’t as trained on the space between your thighs anymore. He leaned in, hands pushing at your cheeks, your jaw, fingers skimming soothingly over the skin there.

“It’s okay,” Steve assured you, his voice just as soft. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nose bumping yours as he dropped another to the opposite side. “It’s okay to wait. I don’t mind-- at all, actually. You’re in charge here, okay?”

You leaned into him in lieu of an answer, lips searching for his and brows knitted together because he was just too fucking sweet to handle. Embarrassment still bloomed in your chest at the situation, at your own admission and you wanted to hide your face against Steve’s but the boy wasn’t having any of it.

He pulled away, chin tilting up to where you couldn’t quite reach him and he frowned at your saddened expression.

“Hey,” Steve tsked softly. “C’mon, you’re in charge, yeah?” He waited, looking at you with earnest, expectant eyes.

You nodded and cleared your throat, nerves and embarrassment swallowed with it because this was Steve. Your Steve. And he was looking at you like he’d give you the sun.

“Yeah,” you agreed and Steve smiled so you did too. “I’m in charge.”

It was only then that the boy leaned back into you, letting you press your lips to his for a kiss. He made it soft and sweet, languid and still tasting like the cherry you’d gifted him from the top of your strawberry shake.

——————

It took a few weeks to end back up in the same situation, this time in Steve’s bed.

There’d been a movie, you think, something that was supposed to be new and funny but you barely made it past the opening scene before you kicked away the remote control and moved into the boy. On your knees, weight pressed into the mattress and your mouth pushed to Steve’s because ever since that night in the back of his car, the sight of him on his knees for you hadn’t left your mind.

If Steve had been surprised at your sudden attack, he didn’t say. In fact, he welcomed it greedily, just as starved for you as you were for him and he pulled you down to meet him without much fanfare.

It was easier now, you were less shy, more willing to show your boyfriend how much you wanted him too. You showed him with greedy kisses, feverish and desperate, your hands sinking into his hair as Steve coaxed you onto his waiting lap, his hands skimming over your waist and your hips and the swell of your ass. You pushed him into his pillows without much thought, Steve’s hands taking you with him, lips never parting as he groaned into your open mouth and your tongue traced over his.

He was already hard, you’d noticed, the feeling of him in his sweats pressed between your thighs sparking the similar feeling in your tummy, the one you always seemed to get the minute the boy got his hands on you. Steve never seemed embarrassed either, always eager to show you exactly what you did to him and apart from a few fumbles in the dark, Steve’s hands slipping under your shirt to flirt with your pebbled nipples over your bra, there hadn’t been much else but kissing.

Tonight felt different.

You wanted tonight to be different.

So you did as you’d done on the car the week before, rolling your hips over Steve’s as you kissed him harder, nose pressed to his cheek as you pulled at his hair and hoped he’d fall apart for you. He did, or almost did, groaning louder than before and gripping your waist almost too tightly as he tried not to jerk up into you.

He lost it a little, hands slipping to your ass to palm at the bare skin peeking out from beneath your shorts, blunt nails scratching nicely over your upper thighs. Steve heaved out a breath, pulling back just enough to look up at you. He was all pink, flushed cheeks and messy hair pushed to his pillows, lips shiny from your kisses as he tried to slow his breathing.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he rasped, trying to sound authoritative but his fingers were trailing inside the legs of your shorts to play with the elastic edge of your underwear and he couldn’t take his eyes off of your heaving chest. “I swear, you’re actually trying to kill me.”

You grinned, still shy, still a little embarrassed at the effect Steve had on you, the effect you seemed to have on him. But despite your boyfriend’s suggestive touch, he didn’t stray any further. You remembered what he’d told you that night, eyes locked on yours, filled with sincerity.

‘You’re in charge.’

You swallowed, throat tight, trying your best to conjure up some bravery from the pit of your stomach. “Hey, Steve?”

Steve was busying himself at your neck, lips pressing kisses to the sensitive skin underneath your jaw and chin. He hummed, a silent question, a barely there answer and you almost forgot what you wanted to say when he nipped at your neck.

“Yeah, honey?”

“Remember— remember the other night? When you said… that I was in charge?” You asked quietly, head ripping back to let Steve do what he wanted, his lips still on your throat. “When you were gonna— uh, gonna go down on me?”

Steve paused but only for a second, seemingly deciding that reacting too strongly to your words would be a bad move. So he placed one last kiss underneath your jaw and then pulled back to meet your gaze. He was soft and warm, his eyes searching yours to make sure you were comfortable and when he found what he was looking for, he nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I remember.” He pushed you from his lap and back onto the bed, gentle and soft with it, easing you back into the pillows so he could lean over you and place a reassuring hand on your waist. “You been thinkin’ about that?”

You were grateful to be off of him, too pent up with being on top and feeling how hard you’d made Steve, finding it easier now to look up at him, your hands playing with the hem of his t-shirt. “A little,” you murmured. And then you corrected yourself. “A lot.”

Steve grinned, unable to help it and you were adorably shy even when talking about him putting his mouth on you but it just made him all the more wild at the thought. He moved his hand to your tummy, fingers moving over the soft pudge of it, his thumb stroking close to the waistband of your shorts.

“Yeah?” He asked again, sounding eager now, sounding hopeful. “What about it, babe? Steve watched you stall, lips moving without words coming out and he smiled, making it easier for you when he said, “you wanna try it?”

You could feel yourself burning, a little in embarrassment but mostly at the idea of it. You’d spent many nights since it was first brought up lying in bed and picturing your boyfriend between your legs. You’d thought about his hands on your thighs, pushing them apart so he could lean in and press his lips to you. You wondered what his tongue would feel like there, if he’d be soft, if you’d like it hard, slow, gentle, teasing. Would he use his fingers? Would he look up at you while he did it? Would he make the same noises he did when you kissed him? When you rocked your hips over his lap and grinded against him?

You nodded, the breath sucked from your lungs. Suddenly, the room was too warm and it only got hotter when Steve grinned and moved to kiss you, peppering little touches of his lips over your cheeks, your nose and jaw.

“You gotta tell me then, honey, yeah?” Steve murmured softly. “Just so I know you’re okay with it. I don’t want to make you feel like it’s something you have to do—”

“I know,” you interrupted. You sat up a little, back to Steve’s headboard as you made sure to keep eye contact with him. He needed to know how okay with it you were. “You’re not making me do anything, I promise. I want to. I really want to.” You smiled then, nervous and excited and with your skin rippling with anticipation.

“Okay,” Steve smiled back. “You’ll tell me if you don’t like it? We can stop whenever you want, alright?”

You nodded again and before Steve needed to prompt you once more, you promised him, “I will, I swear.” Your cheeks warmed again at the memory of your nightly scenarios. “I think I’ll like it though.”

Steve laughed then, not at all meanly. “Yeah? Well, that’s a good start.” He caught your wrist with his hand, pressed a kiss to your palm like a promise. “I’ll try my best, yeah? We can find out what you like together.”

And didn’t that sound really fucking nice?

His hand moved to your waistband again, fingers skimming over the denim before finding the button and zip. Steve tapped it, eyes on yours. He raised his brows and asked, “can I?”

You answered by lifting your hips, falling back into his pillows once more as you sucked in a breath, buzzing with anticipation. Steve fumbled with the metal once, twice, before it popped open and he took his time tugging the denim from your hips. You panicked a little as you tried to remember what underwear you were wearing but you didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought before your shorts were at your ankles and then on Steve’s bedroom floor.

He smiled at your cotton boy shorts, plain and white. Nothing sexy but certainly nothing embarrassing either. But then he was moving, just like you’d imagined, up onto his knees before laying down between your own on his stomach.

“You okay for me to be like this?” Steve asked you quietly, a reassuring hand squeezing at the outside of one thigh.

Your brows rose at that and you suddenly felt horribly naive. “There’s other ways to do it?”

Steve laughed again, soothing away the sting of his amusement by kissing your knee. “Well, yeah, babe. Loads of ways.” His voice lowered a little, his hands trailing upupup until they were close to the elastic edge of your underwear. “I could have you on your hands and knees for me. Could bend you over, y’know?”

Your body lit up, flames licking at the inside of your stomach until they were crawling past your ribs. The idea of it made you squirm, hips twitching under Steve’s touch and he looked delighted at your reaction.

“Or I could get you to sit on my face,” another kiss, this time on the inside of your thigh as he moved closer, your legs over his shoulders. The tip of his nose pushed at the edge of your underwear and your toes curled into the sheets. “Really let you take charge. Would you like that? Wanna ride my face, honey?”

“I—” you didn’t know what to say to that and Steve buried his smile in the side of your thigh.

“S’okay,” he whispered. “We’ll work up to that, yeah? How ‘bout for now, I just—” Steve pressed a kiss just under your belly button, lips flirting lower until you felt his mouth just above your folds. Something in your stomach flipped. “—find out what you like best, hm?”

And he did.

You were surprised when he didn’t immediately pull off your underwear and the noise that came from your mouth when he put his lips on you was unintelligible. Steve pressed a kiss to the front of your underwear, nose nudging at your folds under the cotton. You let out a gasp, breathy and high, hips twitching up until you were pushing yourself to Steve’s mouth and you could feel his smile.

“Hey, hey, s’alright, honey,” Steve assured you. “Gonna take my time with you.”

Another kiss, and then another, tiny touches pressed over the front of your underwear before you felt the heat from this mouth opening, his tongue tracing the line of your folds. The cotton grew even more damp as Steve licked at you, pushing his tongue into your pussy, the material moving under his touch, moulding to your skin.

You were gripping the sheets now, knees falling open on each side of Steve’s face and you didn’t dare look down, not yet. Your eyes shut on their own accord, stars and colours blinking behind your lids and everything felt warm, everything felt fuzzy, like you had cotton balls stuffed in your ears and you were being pulled underwater.

Except there was a live wire in the pool with you, zaps racing through the current to make your entire body buzz, little electrical shocks every time Steve licked at you. His tongue moved deliberately slow, his eyes watching your face, your body, your chest, your mouth for every reaction you gave him.

You liked this teasing, this slow build, this lazy burn that was getting hotter and hotter. So Steve kept at it, pressing his mouth to your cunt, open and with his tongue pushed to you, doing his best to find your clit through your underwear and when he finally pulled back, he groaned at the sight. The white fabric had turned a little see through, translucent in the low bedroom light and Steve could see every part of you with your legs spread so obscenely.

It was a dirty, dirty sight. Something right out of his porno magazines he kept hidden under his bed. The material was stuck to you, showing off your parted folds, the bump of your clit, your little hole, wetter than any other part of you.

“Oh, honey,” Steve moaned, his voice a broken rasp. You looked down at him then, messy haired and pink cheeked and framed by your thighs. He was staring at your cunt, heavy lidded and with red, pouty lips that were already shining from his hard work. “Wish you could see yourself, you’re so fucking hot.”

You whined, embarrassed but not daring to hide your face from him - to hide Steve from you. He looked up at you then, smiling - no, smirking - looking too pleased with himself and he took his pointer finger and stroked it through your folds. You jumped, an immediate response that Steve cooed at and he didn’t stop until his finger was resting on your clit. It was already throbbing, a hot pulse under his touch and he circled it carefully, slow and gentle and giving it pretty, little nudges.

Steve watched it move under his finger, watched it become more obvious through the fabric and his lips parted as he looked at you. He couldn’t stay away for too long, moving his face back to you to press a kiss to it.

“Good?” He asked you, checking in with a kiss to your thigh as well. “You doin’ okay?”

You groaned your answer, your ‘yes’ coming out high and needy. But that’s all Steve needed to hear before he let his tongue drag across you again, the flat of it pushing against your clit, his fingers pulling at the waistband of your underwear so the fabric was pulled even tighter against your pussy. He moaned into you when you whined, nose buried in your folds as he pursed his lips around your clit and sucked a little.

Again, he moved away, leaving you panting, gasping, his hands tugging at your underwear again, his eyes lighting up at the way the fabric stretched over you. He swore, voice low and dirty. “Fuck, baby, I can see you clenching down for me. That feels good, huh? Getting those cute, little panties soaked for me.”

You weren’t sure where your sweet, soft boyfriend had gone, but you certainly didn’t mind this replacement. Steve looked wild, drunk on the sight of you and you were more than happy to lay back and let him toy with you, his fingers and tongue winding you tight like screw top, ready to be sent spinning.

Your hands went from the sheets to Steve’s hair, grabbing at the beats strands, in desperate need to anchor yourself to him. You almost wanted to pull him up your body, having him crawl back up to you so you could claim him for a kiss. The need to have him closer was burning. But then Steve took pity, fingers curling into the sides of your now soaked underwear and you didn’t hesitate to lift your hips for him.

They were pulled down quickly and they soon joined your shorts on the floor and before the boy could ask, your legs fell open once more, shyness gone in the heady need for the pleasure the boy was giving you. Steve beamed, lying back between your thighs and his eyes greedy, taking in all your slick, bare skin.

“Oh, there’s a good girl,” he hummed, his hand smoothing up each side of your waist, taking your shirt with it. “Play with your tits, honey, lemme see them, yeah?”

You did as you were told, face burning as you pushed up your t-shirt and wrestled the cups of your bra out of the way, tits spilling out of them. Your hands shook a little as you pressed them together, hard nipples peeking through your fingertips and it was all filth, a lewd, pornographic scene that you wanted to give Steve.

“Ohh,” the boy moaned in appreciation, the sound rumbling in his chest and he rutted down into the mattress, seeking relief on his hard cock that was straining between his waistband and his stomach. “Look at you, Christ. You’re so damn pretty, you know that? Gonna let me make you feel good, baby?”

You nodded, whining until your words were just noise but they all sounded very much agreeable. So Steve ducked his head back down and used one of his hands to pull your leg out further, spreading you wide as he kissed a line from your entrance to your clit. And just when you thought he’d suck the little bundle past his lip, he let it go in favour of licking over your folds, left and the right - and the right up the centre of you with a wide, flat tongue.

“Steve, Jesus fucking Christ,” you moaned loudly, jaw unhinged and head hanging back on his pillow even when your back arched for him. “That’s— fuck! Don’t stop.”

Steve soothed you with gentle hands on your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into the fat there and he hushed you. “M’not gonna stop, honey, don’t worry,” he spoke into you, lips pushing against your pussy with every word and you wanted to cry, you wanted to beg. “You wanna come already?”

It should’ve been a mocking thing to ask, the ‘already,’ holding so much amusement but you didn’t care. You couldn’t. Not when the boy was letting the soft tip of his tongue circle lazily around your clit, dragging it down to your neglected hole until he groaned when it clenched around him, his own hips bucking once more.

“She’s so needy,” he whispered, in awe. “And so damn wet, Christ baby, you feel good?”

You nodded, head bobbing exuberantly as you propped yourself on your elbows to get a better look. Steve grinned up at you and he nuzzled closer before bringing his hands to your cunt, thumbs spreading you open as he ordered, “keep your legs open, yeah? Good girl.”

And then he was closing his mouth around you, his tongue flattened against you as he sucked gently, the pressure of your clit being pulled into his mouth too much to handle. You keened, a high gasp that left your jaw hanging, eyes clenched shut in euphoria. The colours behind your eyelids turned to explosions, glitter in the air as Steve licked and sucked at you, the same pattern over and over again until you were pressing your heels into the bed and pushing back up to meet his tongue.

“I’m— Steve? Steve, I’m gonna come—”

His answering groan was almost as loud as you, his hands leaving your folds so they could grab at your ass instead, fingers pressing almost bruisingly into each cheek so he could hold your squirming hips against him. He didn’t let up as you chanted his name, knees locking around his head like a vice and when you let out a high pitched wail, pushing at his forehead, he pulled back with a disbelieving laugh, a half gasp.

“Holy shit,” he groaned, eyes roaming over how soaked you were, the way your chest heaved, how your heavy lidded eyes were set only on him. “That was so fucking hot, honey, like Jesus Christ—”

He didn’t get to finish as you grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt, hauling him up until he was frantically crawling over your body, his hands braced on the mattress as you pushed yourself up to meet him. You were both breathing heavily but you stole a kiss anyway, his lips slick and shiny and tasting like you.

You found you didn’t mind at all, your body burning at the reminder of what he’d just done, the taste of yourself on his tongue and yours, the thrumming pulse of your orgasm still simmering through you.

“Good?” Steve was grinning into the kiss, grunting and gasping when your teeth nipped at him, your tongue tracing the line of his cupid's bow, chasing your taste. “Fuck, baby—”

You nodded, nose bumping against his and you wanted to sob at how good he’d made you feel. Words didn’t seem enough to be able to express it. “Yeah, yeah, oh my god-- yeah, it was good.”

Steve was still beaming, more happy than smug, because you were elated, glowing from the high of it all and he’d done that for you. But before he could soothe you back down to earth with more kisses and soft hands, you were pushing him off of you and down onto the mattress. His cock was still throbbing and the taste of you still coated his tongue as you straddled him, your shirt falling back down to cover your pretty tits but he could see the shiny slick from your pussy peek out from under the hem of it as you sat on his lap.

He didn’t get a chance to question you.

“I wanna return the favour,” you said quietly. Soft but determined. “Show me how.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader

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steventhusiast · 8 days

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STWG prompt 18/4/24

prompt: the beemer

pairing/character(s): steddie

"I didn't see your van outside, you need a ride home?" Gareth asks as everyone's packing up their dice sets.

Eddie looks up from scribbling notes down about important character actions with a hum, and notices that the concerned look on Gareth's face is mirrored by Jeff and Freak.

The freshmen members of the club aren't interested, whispering excitedly amongst themselves about something that will probably cause Eddie problems at their next session. (He catches some complaints about biking home too. Losers.)

"What? No, no, don't worry man." He assures with a smile, and goes back to his notes. Steve's picking him up today. They have a date. Which, sure, he's been on a few official dates with Steve now, but they still make him so... jittery and excited.

He shakes his head at the half-finished page of his notebook and readies his pen. He can't forget that Mike now has a bag of holding, so he writes that down and then closes the notebook and nods to himself, satisfied.

When he looks back up his bandmates are still staring at him in concern.

"What?"

"You literally never leave your van at home." Jeff points out, and then Freak adds on:

"You call it your child sometimes."

"Hey. Pac-Van is a she, thank you very much." Eddie says, "But seriously, it's fine. I just got a ride this morning and he's picking me up too."

He hasn't gotten round to telling them about him and Steve yet. He knows they'll take great pleasure in making fun of him getting with a jock. You know, because of all those rants he likes to go on at the lunch tables about said jocks... Whatever.

"From Wayne?"

"No." He rolls his eyes at the questioning and shoves his stuff into his backpack, then makes a quick decision. Fuck it, "I promise I'll be fine, you big babies. Harrington's a good driver."

"Harrington?!" They all ask in sync, and that gets the attention of their newer recruits, who are still chattering away. Their heads all snap over to them.

"Why're you talking about Steve?" Mike asks, looking vaguely disgusted. Dustin elbows him in the side.

"Don't worry your angsty little head about it, Wheeler." Eddie says with a grin, and then finally picks up his backpack, "Now I have places to be and people to see so I trust you all to leave this room as you found it? I gotta go."

And with that he leaves the room, ignoring Freak's voice from behind him.

"I thought he was just giving you a ride home."

He makes it to the parking lot just as the beemer pulls in, and finds a smile appearing on his face at the sight. Because he's feeling dramatic, he does a wild little wave at the car. He can't see Steve yet, but he knows that made him chuckle, or at least smile.

"Hey, taxi for Munson?" Steve yells out of his window as he slows the car to a stop, and Eddie's smile widens.

"Oh, we're roleplaying tonight, are we?" He asks as he walks around to the passenger side and gets in. He's pretty sure Steve rolls his eyes at him, but he's also pretty sure he's doing it in a fond way. Hopefully.

Steve doesn't drive off immediately, a glint of something intense in his gaze as he looks at Eddie. He's leaning toward Eddie a little too, and having Steve Harrington's full attention on him is not something Eddie's used to yet, so an unbidden blush appears on his cheeks.

"Good day?"

"Great day, Stevie."

"Good. Can't wait to hear about it over dinner." Steve nods, and his eyes flicker down to his lips for a second, and then he leans out of Eddie's space to start the car up again.

Right. Public space. Homophobic small town. Yadda yadda, kissing can wait until they're safely indoors.

Eddie's too busy fiddling with the radio as the beemer drives off to notice Freak, Gareth and Jeff stood staring at the car from in front of the school doors, perplexed looks on their faces, as the freshmen run over to the bike racks. But he'll definitely be hearing all about their thoughts at band practice.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie drabble #stwgdailyprompt #mywriting #dailydrabble

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steddielations · 1 year

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Eddie finally lets Jeff talk him into going on this blind date. It's not like he's against dating, he just doesn't expect fireworks from an hour of small talk over an overpriced dinner, y'know? Jeff swore by this guy, though, assuring Eddie that they would hit it off, but Eddie will never know because the guy doesn't show.

That's right, he gets stood up, Jeff texts him a string of apologies saying the guy chickened out. So Eddie’s just sitting there alone, trying not to sulk when the waitress asks if he's still waiting to order. Fuck it, he refuses to be the most miserable person in the restaurant, looking around to find someone equally as pathetic, and lo and behold:

Three tables away, there's a guy getting dumped.

Eddie eavesdrops because he has nothing better to do. It’s a pretty standard breakup. Sounds like they haven't been together long and things fizzled out. Neither of them seem to be invested enough to try and salvage it.

"Aren't you gonna say anything, Steve?"

No, Steve isn't. He just sits there while his former boyfriend leaves, doesn't try to stop him at all. Not in a hardened douchebag way, but in a dejected 'why do I even bother' way that Eddie knows all about.

And well, Eddie might be a cynic but his curiosity isn't dead. This Steve is far too pretty to be getting dumped in a seafood place and Eddie has to know what the deal is. It leads him right over to Steve's table. He looks up at Eddie, not quite dead behind the eyes yet, but maybe a little lonely. Just needs a spark.

"Alright well, something tells me that a stranger bugging you won't be the worst thing to happen to you tonight, so I'm just gonna take this empty seat and maybe we can help each other figure out why we're both alone on a Friday night. What do you say?"

Steve blinks, a little taken back at first, then he matches the nonchalance that Eddie's so good at faking with a smirk and a shrug, "Depends. Do you have all night?"

Turns out, Jeff was right about one thing, Eddie does hit it off with someone and it doesn't take all night. They leave the restaurant together, spend hours just walking the town and even breaking into a park after hours. It's the most fun Eddie's had in a while, and even though he doesn't get a goodnight kiss just yet, he gets a second date, which is even better.

He walks home with a skip in his step and a fire in his belly that he hasn't felt in years. He never thought he'd be so glad to get stood up before.

#modern au but like 2000s romcom you know #when trying to help figure out why the other is ‘undateable’ turns into ‘you’re perfect why am i not dating you?’ real quick #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #my fics #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie headcanons #rueswriting #steve x eddie #stranger things #meet cute #yes jeff still takes credit at the wedding for setting them up #mp

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steddiealltheway · 8 months

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I just BARELY made the deadline in my time zone, but I did it! This is for Lex's Summer Challenge, Dialogue prompt #25 :) Thank you @thefreakandthehair for organizing this!! <3

It's New Year's Eve, and Steve is not excited.

The kids have all mostly agreed to stay together, setting off fireworks at the Wheeler's house. Robin has a band thing, meaning she will try to cozy up with Vickie but chicken out before the New Year's kiss. And Steve... he plans on checking in on Max who hasn't confirmed if she is going to Mike's.

Things have been rough for her since Billy passed only a few months ago. She hates the trailer she had to move to, and as far as Steve can tell, her mom isn't around much. And if she is, she isn't sober.

The worst thing is that Max doesn't open up to anyone, but there isn't much Steve can do about that. What he can do is drive to her place and bring her dinner.

He goes about making her way too much spaghetti and makes the drive over. The sun is starting to go down, but he just hopes he can make it home in time to put on headphones and pass out before people start celebrating the new year.

He just doesn't want to make it anyone else's problem that he no longer likes the look or sound of fireworks – flashes triggering migraines and memories of Russian torture – so he's put a plan in place. Luckily, everyone should be too busy with New Year's celebrations to pay him any attention.

He pulls up to Max's trailer and parks outside, walking up to the door and knocking quickly. He waits a few seconds, listening for the sound of footsteps coming to the door, but they don't come. He pulls his jacket a little tighter around himself, shifts the tub of spaghetti from his left side to the right, and knocks again.

After waiting a few minutes, Steve turns and notices the sun is now on the horizon.

He glances around the trailer park, cursing himself for not bringing his walkie. His eyes land on a van at the trailer across the way that looks somewhat familiar. He notes that there are no negative thoughts that accompany looking at it, but rather, he feels a bit indifferent to it.

He starts walking that way, hoping he knows the owner, and further hoping that they're nice enough to let him use their phone. He walks up the steps and knocks before stepping down.

Luckily, this time he hears the sound of footsteps from inside and a bit of muffled cursing before the door swings open.

Oh. That's how he knows the van.

Eddie Munson looks down at him, totally bewildered, and shifts uncomfortably, eyes flickering toward the spaghetti while asking, "What are you doing here?" Before he can answer, Munson gets a look of realization and answers himself, "Right, my great supply."

"No," Steve says quickly. "I just need to use your phone."

Munson quickly stiffens again. "Why?"

Steve sighs and shifts the tub again which has started to feel heavier with every passing moment. "My friend lives over there," he says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, "And I need to check if she's okay."

"No way," Munson says, hands coming up before he crosses his arms, "No way I'm letting you use my phone to call some hookup."

"It's not a hookup. She's in middle school."

"What?" Eddie asks, looking even more horrified.

"Not like that!" Steve says and runs his free hand through his hair. "She's friends with a group of kids that I babysit."

"And why do you want to call her?"

Christ. "Because I'm worried about her, okay? She's not someone who asks for help, and she's not answering the door. I just need to know if she's safe at her friend's house."

Eddie stares at him for a few more seconds then asks, "What’s the spaghetti for?"

"Her."

He's fixed with the same suspicious stare until Eddie finally nods his head and opens the door for Steve to come inside. Eddie gestures to where the phone is and leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and watching his every move.

Steve tries to shrug it off as he dials the Wheelers and waits for one of them to answer.

"Hello?"

Steve smiles and politely replies, "Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, it's Steve."

"Oh, Nancy is currently-"

"No, no," Steve cuts her off, seeing the way that Eddie is starting to tense up. "I wasn't calling about Nancy. I was just wondering if Max was there with the other kids. I stopped by to check on her, but she didn't answer the door."

Steve can feel his heart thud in his chest as he waits for the reply. "That's very kind of you. But she's with the boys right now. Did you want me to pass a message to her?"

"No," Steve says in relief. "No, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Steve," she replies and hangs up.

Steve puts the phone back and turns to Eddie. "Thanks, man. I owe you one."

Eddie tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "Why do you care about her so much?"

Steve sighs and gestures toward the counter with the container of spaghetti in hand. "Can I?" Eddie nods in response, so Steve sets it down. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, "Do you remember Billy Hargrove?"

Eddie scoffs, "Like I could forget the asshole."

Steve nods. "Well, Max was his step-sister."

"Oh," Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably.

Steve shrugs. "They didn't have the greatest relationship, but she's been really closed off since...” he trails off uncomfortably, trying not to remember the moment he died.

Eddie nods his head. “Right.”

Steve nods back and gestures toward the spaghetti, changing the subject. “You can have that by the way as a thank you for letting me use your phone. I really appreciate it. And hey, Happy New Year.”

Eddie’s jaw drops slightly as if he wants to say something but none of the words come out. So, Steve walks to the front door and opens it. He doesn’t even move a step down the stairs before a big firework lights up the sky as the loud noise rings out.

Steve freezes. He feels his breathing getting shaky and shallow as he remembers the fireworks exploding on that spider looking thing’s back.

He closes his eyes tight, trying to fend off the images, but the darkness only reminds him of the black that slowly devoured his vision when the Russians knocked him out.

“Hey, hey,” a soft voice says, “I’ve got you.”

Steve notices the way he’s somehow on the ground with his back pressed against something warm and that same heat wraps around his torso. He blinks back into reality a bit as warm hands run up and down his arms slowly. “You okay?”

Steve sinks back into Eddie’s arms and closes his eyes. "Fireworks aren't exactly... my favorite thing."

Eddie breathes out sharply through his nose. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.”

Steve just nods, allowing himself to be comforted for a few seconds before he tenses up and begins to stand up. “Sorry,” he apologies as he makes his way back to the front door. “Don’t know what got into me.”

He puts his hand on the door handle, moving his body to block Eddie’s view from his shaking hand.

“Hey,” Eddie says close behind him, “Just stay until the fireworks stop. I don’t want you driving into my trailer on the way out or something.”

Steve turns and asks, “Are you sure?”

Eddie nods and gestures to the container. “Plus, there’s no way I can eat this whole thing on my own.”

Steve is about to say that he’ll be fine when another firework goes off outside, startling him again. “Okay,” he agrees, wondering how the hell this is going to end up. Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson spending New Years together.

Eddie hands Steve the container and grabs two bowls and forks before walking off. Steve follows behind him to what he assumes to be Eddie’s room, slightly confused about the change in scenery.

“Sorry it’s a mess. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Eddie says awkwardly shoving things around.

Steve just smiles as he looks at the room. “I like it. It feels comfortable,” he confesses. And it does. With the way his parents force him to keep a spotless room that never feels lived in, it’s nice to be in a bedroom that really reflects someone.

Eddie considers him for a moment and just nods as he takes the container and sets it on his dresser alongside the bowls before pointing at his stack of tapes. “I’m going to guess our music taste isn’t really similar, but feel free to dig through for something you might like that’ll drown out the fireworks.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat at the thoughtfulness before he makes his way to the tapes, digging through several unfamiliar names that he kind of wants to ask about, but instead he can’t help but ask, “So, what are you doing alone on New Years?”

Eddie scoops himself a generous amount of pasta as he answers, “Gareth is at a school thing, Jeff is with his family in New York, and Grant’s parents kind of don’t like me.”

“Why’s that?”

Eddie fixes Steve with a look. “I’m not exactly ‘meet the parents’ material, and it doesn’t help that I used to hold band practice in his garage and would play louder whenever they told us to quiet down.”

Steve smiles. “I would love for you to do that to my parents. God, they would be so pissed.” He grabs another tape and instantly smiles and holds it up to Eddie. “I love Queen.” He immediately puts it into the cassette player and turns the volume up enough to block out additional noise while still being able to hear Eddie talk.

He turns and finds Eddie handing him a bowl and fork with a soft smile on his face, “You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

Eddie nods and sits cross legged on his mattress. “Honestly, I thought you’d be an asshole. You know. King Steve and all that shit.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair as he sits next to him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to live that down.”

“You will if you get out of Hawkins,” Eddie says, shoveling a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth.

Steve twirls his pasta and stares at it. “I don’t know if I’ll ever leave here,” he confesses.

“Why not?”

“I’m not smart enough to make a living somewhere else. Plus, if I move, my parents likely won’t support me – my dad likes keeping me under his thumb. And the kids need me to drive them around.” And they need him in case Hawkins gets another dose of Hell, but he can’t tell Eddie that. “Plus, I don’t think there’s anywhere that would accept me, a former jock and asshole whose only friends are children and Robin. And they’re all so smart that they’ll eventually realize they’re dumb for keeping me around.” He stabs at his spaghetti before putting the bowl down and resting his head in his hands. “I don’t know, man.”

There’s a pause, and Steve hears a dull thud from a firework outside the trailer even over the music that startles him a bit. It’s so damn annoying that something small like this can reduce him to this.

“Run away with me.”

Steve head slowly comes up. “What?”

Eddie wipes his mouth and sets his bowl on his side table. “Run away with me,” he repeats. “After I graduate, I’m going to run like hell out of here. Come with me to find a place that accepts a former jock and a...” he trails off and looks away nervously. “Uh, a freak,” he awkwardly fills in.

The bowl in Steve’s hand suddenly feels like it’s in the way, so he sets it on the floor before turning to Eddie and leaning closer to him, hands itching to reach out. “Come on, you can tell me what you were really going to say.”

Eddie searches his eyes before laying back on his bed dramatically, trailing his hands over his face. “You know what I was going to say. You’ve heard the rumors. Everyone has.”

Steve has heard several rumors about Eddie, including one about how he worships the devil and does satanic rituals on top of his trailer in the middle of the night. But he has a feeling he knows which rumor he’s talking about. “Yeah, but rumors are rumors for a reason. You never know which ones are true.”

Eddie sighs and looks up at Steve. He looks like he’s on the verge of telling him before he asks, “So, why aren’t you with your friends tonight? The kids or Robin.”

He looks down at Eddie for a few moments, wondering if he’ll drop the question, but he holds his ground. Steve shrugs. “Robin is at the thing with all the band kids, chickening out with her crush, and the kids don’t want their babysitter around. Plus, they want to launch fireworks or play Dungeons and Dragons or something.”

Eddie perks up and sits up on his elbows. “Dungeons and Dragons? The kids you babysit play that?”

“Yeah. And don’t make fun of them for it. They talk about it all the time, and I think it sounds cool,” Steve says, always quick to defend Dustin even if he’s into weird nerdy shit.

Eddie sits up entirely and looks at Steve excitedly. “You think Dungeons and Dragons is cool?” he asks in disbelief.

Steve shrugs in response. “It’s not really my thing, but yeah.”

“Dude, I’m the leader of Hellfire. You know, the Dungeons and Dragons club at school? What are the kids' names?”

“Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.”

Eddie bounces up and down excitedly. “Holy shit, I thought Dustin was kidding when he said he was friends with you.”

It suddenly clicks, Dustin had mentioned Eddie’s name before, but Steve had never really thought about it as Eddie Munson of all people. “Shit, Dustin talks about you all the time, I just never connected the dots.”

“He doesn’t shut up about you. The kid adores you. He’d kill me if I took you away from here.”

“And he’d kill you if you ever left.”

Eddie smiles and nudges Steve. “Looks like we’re both stuck here.”

Steve smiles back at him, eyes tracing over Eddie’s face. He’s not sure why he’s never really noticed him before. He guesses he’s always been so stuck in his own shit that Eddie just kind of passed him by somehow. But he’s finally noticing his dimples, and the way his eyes are so deeply brown and easy to get lost in, and his lips looks so full and-

Eddie lightly shoves him back, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks, “Eat your spaghetti before it gets cold.”

Steve grabs his bowl and does as he’s told, watching as Eddie gets up to turn up the music a little louder. When he sits back on the bed, the two eat in comfortable silence, letting the music fill the space. Steve’s not sure if he’s ever been able to warm up to someone so quickly, but it makes sense that he’d be able to bond with someone who loves Dustin.

The song ends and goes into the next. Steve finishes his last bite of spaghetti and laughs as “Somebody to Love” starts playing. He puts his bowl down and lays back on the bed, letting the song wash over him. He sings the lyrics under his breath until he hears Eddie doing the same thing and turns to look up at him. They lock eyes just in time to sing, “Can anybody find me somebody to love?”

Eddie laughs and lays next to him joining him through the rest of the song. Steve feels ridiculous, but Eddie makes a show of playing air guitar, yelling, “I know how to play this!” Steve just laughs and watches him, feeling his heart beat a little faster in a way it hasn’t for somebody else in a while.

He sings the rest of the song, mainly focusing on Eddie and the way he so easily gives into the music, unafraid of what Steve might think. As it comes to an end, Steve feels something shift inside him, but Eddie is quick to laugh, “Steve Harrington how can you be struggling to find somebody to love?”

Steve smiles sadly. “I think I’ve been looking in the wrong place all along, but I’ve been starting to think that maybe I’m unlovable.”

Eddie scoffs and moves closer to him. “If you think you’re unlovable then there’s no hope for the rest of us.”

Steve has to move closer to hear him over the music and talk without shouting. “Does that include you?”

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, tilting his head with a curious smile.

“I think,” Steve starts, unsure of how he’s going to finish the sentence, “If there’s no hope for you either, then maybe...”

“Maybe?” Eddie prompts.

Steve’s eyes glance down at Eddie’s lips. “Maybe...” He looks up at Eddie’s eyes, seeing the confusion, slight fear, and hope. “Maybe you should finish what you were going to say earlier.”

“Steve...” Eddie says, “You can’t be asking me...”

“Then, I’ll ask you. Is it midnight yet?”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Not even close.”

“What if I lie and say that it is so I can ask you for a New Years kiss?” Steve asks boldly.

Eddie’s breath hitches. “Then, I’d say yes and start counting down from ten.”

“Nine,” Steve says immediately.

“Eight,” Eddie replies, shifting onto his knees.

“Seven.” Steve scoots closer, leaning in to brush their noses together.

“Six,” Eddie exhales.

“Five.” Steve’s hands come up to hold onto the back of Eddie’s head.

“Four.” Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back to bring him closer.

“Three.” Steve tilts his head, already brushing his lips against Eddie’s, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Two,” Eddie whispers, hands gripping on tighter, left hand tracing up between his shoulders to slot their torsos together.

“One,” Steve says, barely finishing the word as he presses his lips against Eddie’s, finally ending the longest countdown of his life.

He deepens the kiss immediately, tasting spaghetti and a hint of something that is purely Eddie which he finds entirely intoxicating.

The music fades from one song into the next, and Steve’s pretty sure a firework goes off in the silence, but he’s too distracted by Eddie to really respond to it. He feels Eddie’s arms tighten around him, slowly guiding him down to lay back on the bed.

Eddie breaks the kiss to look down at Steve. “This okay?” he asks.

Steve nods and says, “Happy New Year.”

Eddie smiles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Happy fucking New Year.”

He finally understands why people cheesily talk about fireworks going off during a kiss. And maybe even with everything, fireworks aren’t too bad if this is what he can associate them with.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #lexssummerfanworkschallenge

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caxde · 18 days

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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you and Eddie have just become a couple, you meet hellfire club, Wayne finally meets you, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (6.8k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

a/n: thank you guys for the support, and thanks to the lovely @criesinlies for her help and motivation, this one is for u babe <3 part1 part2 part 3 (they can be read seperatly)

“As you feel the air collapse in your lungs, I’m gonna need a constitution saving throw from you, Tayr.” Eddie explains, as his voice changes into that dramatic tone he always uses when he’s in the middle of a session, pointing at Mike who is stunned and on the verge of having a meltdown.

“Wha-Whaddumean the air collapses in my lungs?” He asks frantically, as he shuffles through papers, trying to find something that will get him out of this, his die on his hand, rattling anxiously.

“Counterspell!” Will screams, his hand on reaching for Eddie, he just scoffs.

“It’s not a spell.” His voice remains calm, not stopping the visual contact he had going on, enjoying the menacing aura he had going on, something he didn’t get to do as often now that most of the stories and voices he could do were the ones for bedtime so Lua would fall asleep.

He enjoyed looking at the chaos that ensued at the table, how they all were chatting amongst themselves, trying to find a solution, something useful so Mike’s character wouldn't die.

Eddie hears the soft knocks on the door, his eyebrows raise a bit as he looks over at the trailer. The kids were around the table, buried deep with character sheets and spell cards, Max and El were on the living room floor drawing and colouring with Lua, Steve and Robin weren’t supposed to come pick them up for another forty minutes and uncle Wayne had yet to come back from work.

He made his way to the front door, excusing himself from his usual DM spot, Dustin nodding in understanding, a curious look on his face as he looked over at him, and who could be behind the door.

You had left work a bit earlier, for once they actually respected your work hours, and understood that if you started your shift at ten in the morning, you shouldn’t stay past six in the afternoon. So for once, you were back in the trailer park beforehalf past, and lucky for you, you caught some pastries they wanted to throw out, they said they were too old to sell, but you had baked them yesterday night, so you knew for a fact the blueberry muffins that where Lua’s favourite and the Cinnamon rolls that Eddie liked were good to take.

So, there you were, your work clothes still on, and a little cardboard box in your hands.

You looked up at him, as soon as he opened the door and his head tilted ever so slightly to the right, your lips were already curving upwards as you made eye contact with him. His eyes melting a bit at the sight of you, he made a step back, letting you in.

You didn’t really have any reason to be alert, you were just happy to see him, and excited to do so, even if the nerves of the dinner you had in a couple hours were starting to manifest in your body, you paid them no mind. Instead, you pointed your feet up, the distance between both of your bodies closing, a small peck left on his lips from yours. He smiled as he always does when you kiss him.

You realised right there that something strange was going on, when the usual noise that rummaged through his trailer was gone. Even worse, the noise you had heard from the other side of the door had ceased, you pulled away, not too far for that matter, your body still a breath away from his, his hand resting on your waist.

“Got out of work earlier, they gave me some sweets… I thought maybe Lua..” That’s when you realised that he wasn’t exactly alone.

There was a group of kids sitting around a table, their eyes about to pop out of their heads, mouths opened in shock, whilst Lua was in the company of two girls. You recognized the red head, Max lived a couple trailers down from you, she always had some kind words to say about your outfit, and you had helped her a couple of times when her mom was away and her washing machine was making the same funny sound as yours did.

She was the one that seemed more shocked out of them all, standing up in one swift movement as Lua clocked that you were there. Her usual gigle as a greeting as she started walking clumsily to your feet, her arms opened for you to hug her. Eddie gave you the same nod he always did, as he took a step further from you and took the little box with sweets out of your hands. It always happened when Lua wanted attention from you, you looked over at Eddie a ‘is this okay? can i hold her?’ look he had become used to, and that he absolutely adored.

“Princess!” Lua cheered as she wrapped her arms lazily on the back of your neck, Eddie had told you about the whole princess accident, and you had become somehow warmed up about the nickname that she had gifted you. You pulled her in a warm hug.

“Hi dude, you doing okay?” You asked, your voice higher in pitch as it always did when you talked to her.

“Yeah. Friends over!” She pointed out to the two girls that remained silent on the floor, her mouth still slightly opened.

“Eddie you rat!” Max broke the silence, the cascade of comments starting to flow as the kids were coming out of shock. “I live right next to you, how did I not know!” She continued, you looked at her, a bit afraid of her if you were being honest. Her hard tone contradicts with her wide smile.

“Is she your girlfriend?” One of the boys asked from the table, his tan skin made his blue shirt pop, just as much as his question did. Making you both blush in a similar way, looking at each other, Lua looking between the both of you, still on your arms.

“She’s dada’s princess.” She explains, as best as she could, her sweet words making you chuckle, as Eddie took her from your arms, pulling her in a soft embrace.

“Yes, and she got you a snack, d’you want some?” Eddie rattled the box, and Lua’s eyes widened as she cheered.

The chattering continued as you sort of stood in the middle of the room, not sure where to go to, or what to do now.

“How did he get you to agree to go out with him?” A boy with curly hair half covered with a cap that had some writing you couldn’t quite read spoke, an incredulous tone evident by the way his face looked, a raised eyebrow following his question.

“It wasn’t that hard, really… he just… asked?” You could hear Eddie laughing from the kitchen, the sound of it making your shoulders relax, you weren’t used to that much attention.

“Unbelievable, I should have been asking Eddie the Freak Munson for girl advice, not King Steve… who would have known.” The same boy replayed, you caught the same dramatic voice and flare you had caught on Eddie a few times, it made you chuckle.

“Eddie the Freak?” You questioned, more to yourself than to anyone else, as you took a step closer to the table.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a big nerd, even bigger when he was in High School.” Max was the one talking now, teasing him as Eddie walked out the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest.

Lua was walking with a plastic plate on her hand, half of the muffin on it. She was trying really carefully to not drop it, concentrating on finding her way to the couch.

“Hey, enough teasing the one that’s housing you, ‘kay?” That was an expression you still haven’t seen or heard in Eddie. His head tilted to the left, his hair falling a bit in front of his face, his eyes wider before he closed them a bit, his lips pressing against each other. Eddie was embarrassed, and didn’t really know how to manage it.

“Yeah, we’re literally in the middle of a campaign.” The boy with the black hair and arched nose points out frantically gesturing at the board on top of the table. “I might be dying!” Urgency comes back into his voice, and you can see the way Eddie tries to mask a laugh, his hand hiding his smile, only growing when he makes eye contact with you.

“Well, at least someone kisses her girlfriend.” The girl that was beside Max and had been quiet spoke out, a spec of hurt in her voice. Her words made the boy that was somehow about to die shake his head in disbelief at her, while Max and the two other boys that had spoken chuckle. The boy that hadn’t spoken yet looked at the dying boy longley.

Eddie enjoyed the teasing when it wasn’t focused on him, so he let out a chuckle as soon as she heard how El teased Mike back for not being as affectionate as he was. Then again, Eddie was aware that he was highly affectionate, and even now, not being next to you, or holding your hand was a weird feeling now that he could call you his girlfriend.

Maybe that’s why he uses the small moment where they were chuckling and quietly teasing Mike to walk over you, his hand finally resting on the small of your back, where it fits in a perfect way, the small touch reassuring you in a way you didn’t think possible. Your head spins to look at him, his eyes half closed when they meet yours, he can’t help but leave a small kiss on your forehead. And you can’t help but rest your head on his chest as soon as he breaks the tiny kiss.

“Okay, roll call or they won’t stop looking at us weird.” Eddie half jokes as he speaks up, you just enjoy the way his chest vibrates when he talks, for a moment you let yourself daydreaming of the day you get to sleep with him as close as you were now. “You know Max.” You nod as the red haired girl looks up at you again, before sitting down back on the floor. “That’s El” The one that had teased the other boy about kissing mouthed a silent hi, her eyebrows slightly raised “She also goes by Jane.” Eddie turns to your ear, whispering it to you.

“Dustin, Henderson. Though right now I’m Nog.” The boy with the curled covered hair spoke next, he seemed excited to meet you, his smile was contagious.

“Uh… Okay?” You weren’t exactly sure what he meant with right now, and you had a habit of not masking your emotions, so your face could be read like a poem, your eyebrows raised in misunderstanding and confusion.

“She doesn’t know about D&D?” The boy that was supposedly dying erupted again, and you heard Eddie audibly roll his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter.”The guy next to him talked, though he almost cut him off, frustration on his voice, the rest of the party scoffed and tried to hide a chuckle “I’m Will, or Will the Wise. He’s Mike, or Tayr in this case.” He pointed to them both, you nodded, trying hard to remember everyone’s names.

“I’m Lucas or Sundar the Bold, also Max’s sometimes boyfriend.” He tries to charm the girl who just rolls her eyes as she shakes her head. Even if you clock a soft curving of her lips.

You smile to yourself, trying to hold as much information as you can.

“Do you also have a second name?”

Eddie laughs, as he pushes a little hair away from his face, tucking it away nicely under his ear.

“No, I uh… I’m the, uh… Dungeon Master.”

“What’s-”

Luckily for Eddie, Steve walked in at that moment. Robin followed him closely. Giving him another moment of quietness and self reflection as they walked inside, observing the scene as they did.

He had never been embarrassed about playing, or anything of that matter, but for some stupid reason that he wasn’t sure of, he felt just that seeing you in his space when he was not expecting it. He wasn’t prepared, for you to see him actively nerding out, even worse, when the stakes at the table were as high.

“I think we got here a bit early, Steve.” Robin pointed out, her voice doing that sing along tone that you found charming. Lua waved at them from the couch where she was still enjoying her little treat. The reason you were here after all.

“Oh, shi-” Eddie glared down at him before he could finish the sentence, a quick nod to the little girl listening in. “You’re one to talk.”

“You are!” Dustin halved screamed from his chair, an accusatory finger pointing at him. “You’re the one giving out girl advice, while Eddie somehow managed to find a respectfully hot girl to go out with him.” You can’t help but giggle at the way he said respectfully, his mouth enunciating every syllable of the word while he looked at you in an apologetic way.

Eddie blushed harder, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. The vein on his neck grows larger every second. Unlucky for him, and due to the fact that he was far too distracted, he missed the look on your face when you caught that, the half second where the image of Eddie biting his lower lip trying to hide a cocky smile as his vein pulsed had made your thighs clench, and your eyes darken.

“Henderson’s right, Steve” Robin added in her teasing tone, her words felt like they had an extra space written in between them. “That’s another point on the you suck table.” For some reason that you didn’t understand, that snarky comment made them all laugh, an inside joke you hope to understand someday.

“I uh… should go back to my trailer.” You point to the opened door with your head, your hand now was somehow tangled with Eddie’s.

“You can stay.” He pleas with a sweet soft voice, like honey to your ears. His eyes looking down at you, somehow becoming doe-like.

“I would, but I need to make dinner for four.” You remind him as you wink. A lovesick smile appears on his lips once again, forgetting that he was surrounded by people that will tease him as soon as you’re gone. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, come whenever.”

He stands there for a moment, knowing full well that their friends are talking to him, teasing him relentlessly, but he doesn’t really care, he’s too focused on seeing the way your body moves, and how even your steps reflect how happy you feel.

“I thought she was coming over here.” Wayne pointed out, standing against the bathroom door, looking over Eddie's shoulder, as he brushed out Lua’s recently clean hair.

“She was, but she wanted to host, said she’d feel more comfortable.” Eddie explained, not really focusing on what he was saying, more centered in the job he was doing. He had an experience with curly hair, and knew just how much care it needed, and how much he hated detangling it when he himself was a kid. “I’ll be done in a second, bug.” He tried to reassure her, her hands pushing him away.

“Right.” Eddie wasn’t expecting much words out of his uncle, but he was still a bit anxious, and he wasn’t really sure he knew why. “You should shower, I’ll change Lua.” He told him, as he grabbed Lua in a soft embrace.

That’s when Eddie realised he had been anxiously brushing his daughter’s hair for the last fifteen minutes.

And that he probably just needed a second, a moment or a minute just for himself.

Turns out, silence can also be an overwhelming sound.

For Eddie, silence was the time his thoughts gained free raign on his brain.

Even if he tried to quiet them down, hot water hitting the back of his head as he takes his time washing his hair, he wasn’t sure he could do it.

He was used to judgment. First it was him being a nerd, which evolved into freak, which ended with reckless. First he had been an outcast, then he had been the dangerous teen, now he was the young dad who barely finished high school.

His problem -he realised as the water pressure hitted the knot that he had on his left shoulder- was that that had all happened before you met him.

And he hadn’t told you a lot about that. Or about Hellfire and just how important and life saving it had been for him, despite it’s nerdy side, which was what you had only seen.

He had a river of what if’s as he brushed his damp hair, putting leave in conditioner and drying it.

He kept thinking.

What if you seeing him with (ironically) even more kids had somehow pushed you away.

What if you knowing that he had been on the verge of expulsion made you reject him.

What if you getting to actually know him made you wish you never had in the first place.

Wayne knew what was going on, but he had realised through experience that the best he could do is just give him space, facilitate the tasks he had to do. So he left him his comfort black button up shirt he always wore when he wanted to feel better, his usual blue jeans under it.

He had dressed Lua, with the hand-me-down clothes Jameson from three trailers up had given them a few months ago, a pastel baby blue dress she had a fuss about, until she realised it was actually comfortable. Wayne smiled to himself, remembering how Eddie used to do the same.

Across the street, you were setting up the table.

The meat cannelloni your grandma used to make for you -or your best attempt at them- where being covered in bechamel that you had just finished, the bottom of the pot that you had used was barely brown for once, a good sign, you thought. Maybe a bit too nutmeg, maybe not enough salt, but it drowns the cannelloni in a warm blanket, before you put some shredded cheese on top.

Once they were in the oven, the whole trailer smelt like warmth.

And you started fidgeting with the hem of your long sleeve.

You checked again that the white wine was chilled, and that you had plenty of water and orange juice for Lua.

You repainted your lips red, and checked that you didn’t have any mascara stains in your eyelids for the third time.

You decided to set the table, soft music playing in the background. A tape you had had for a while, with Bowie, the Smiths and some songs you just knew the name of. As you placed the last fork, the familiar soft knock came from the door. A smile appearing in your lips as a response.

Eddie’s breathing slowed down as soon as he locked eyes with you. His shoulders dropped a bit, his eyes softened, just by seeing you, the river of thoughts stopped.

Wayne’s eyebrows raised -as soon as he saw the effect you had on his anxious nephew- but neither of you noticed.

“You look nice.” You let out, your voice softer, kinder.

“So do you.” He said back, his voice no longer shaking. Lua in his arms, reaching for you.

“Hi dude!” Your pitch became higher, as you grabbed her for a quick hug, letting her on the floor so she could investigate as she loved to do.

Eddie stepped a bit closer to you, leaving a kiss on the spot he liked so much, right where your right temple met your hairline, before introducing you to Wayne.

“It’s a pleasure.” You tell him, a firm shake of hands proceeds your words, a kind smile in his lips as his eyes are framed by smile lines.

“I’m sure it’s all mine.” He replays, you like how he drags every word, his accent being so different form the one Eddie has. “It smells heavenly.”

“Grandma’s recipe.” You tell him, as you move to the table.

Eddie sees that you had fixed a chair with a couple of your hard pillows, so Lua could actually be seated on her own chair, with you. For some stupid reason, it warmed his heart. He hadn’t asked you to, assuming that she’d just be in his lap once again, but seeing that you had taken the effort, made him see -even if he thought it before- just how much you do care.

Wayne caught it, the way Eddie’s smirk appeared as he looked at the chair, the small plastic plate and utensils you had set up for her. Water and orange juice. Wayne was starting to like you already, and he had barely talked to you.

Everyone seemed to like the food, a soft wow escaped Wayne’s lips when non one was looking, as his eyebrows raised in amusement. Lua had wanted to try them as soon as they were set up on the table, Eddie telling her as he cut them up in a soft voice that they were too hot, she didn’t care. She grabbed the end of the fork Eddie had, trying to take a bite.

“Do you really wanna burn your mouth?” He asked, even if he was a bit overwhelmed, his tone stayed sweet, calm. She nodded, only looking at the food. He let her take a small bite, which she did eat, chewing with her mouth opened. “I told you.” Eddie gave her a look that you found endearing. His head tilted ever so slightly to the right, his eyes opened a bit too much nodding as he did so, a soft giggle escaped your lips. He couldn’t help his from curling as soon as he heard you.

“Yummy” Is all she said, and it made your eyes squint a bit, your smile growing bigger. Eddie’s voice stopped for a second as he saw you, and how proud you looked.

“You like it?” Eddie could swear your eyes shined when you asked, even a bit brighter when you saw Lua nodding.

Wayne realised something in that moment, the small bubble that you seemed to be in.

From where he was, it already looked like you belonged. Like you always had. You seemed to understand Eddie just as good as he was, maybe even better.

Wayne did try to get to know you, asking you things every time he felt like he had an opportunity. He was always kind, and gave you a smile when you answered.

The thing that you found out that Wayne and Eddie shared was how much they listened, and remembered.

“How come you ended up in Hawkins?”

“They lied to her.” Eddie replayed before you could, food still in your mouth.

“Whaddumean?” Wayne responded in shock, his eyes staring at you, wanting you to answer.

“I uh… I got a call about a teaching spot that was supposedly open, in the High School, but uh… they forgot to add that it wouldn’t actually be available for another six months so… I’m in the cafe, saving up… you know” You felt like you were overexplaining yourself, or that you were coming across as pitiful, but as soon as you felt Eddie's hand on your thigh, a small squeeze on it, you knew you were going to be okay. That you were doing okay.

Wayne looked over at Eddie, a smirk appearing on his lips, that Eddie knew the meaning of, and for once he was welcome you didn’t. It said, you also want to get out of here. Eddie couldn’t unpack that, not now.

“Well, I’ve heard you’ve already met some of your future students.” He said instead, taking a sip of the white wine you had poured for him.

“Have I?”

“Didn’t your little fan club come?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie, who had gone quieter. Not only was he not talking, but he had that shyness that he had grown to hide coming out, right there in the open.

“Fan club?” You asked back, giving him a little look. He seemed lost, present, but still not entirely there.

“Hellfire, we uh… play a game together.”

“I didn’t know you had more kids beside Lua.” Even if you were smiling sincerely, even if he knew you were teasing him, he still gave you an apologetic smile, not really looking at you but at Wayne, begging him to stop.

Wayne understands, so he waits a few seconds for the music that had been softly playing to stop, he wipes his mouth with the napkin as he nods at his nephew.

“I should get Lua to bed.” He excuses himself, as he walks over to her. Lua looked up at him with a puzzled look in her eyes, her head swinging between his dad and his uncle. “Let’s go to bed, Lu.” It’s the first time that you hear him being sweet, almost like honey.

Lua stands up on her own, her arms up in the air, waiting to be lift up by him. He waves you goodbye in sync with Wayne as he walks out the door.

You stand up.

You don’t really know what you have done to make Eddie quiet, but you give him space, as you clear the table, and you catch him playing with his index finger, a repetitive movement that lets you know he’s got something bugging him in his mind.

You let him stay in the chair while water runs down your hands. Calming yourself whilst you come out with the right words.

“Are you okay?” You end up asking the most basic question, but the only one you can actually think of. He finally looks up at you, and in doing so he realises due to the iron taste in his mouth that he had been biting his lower lip a bit too hard.

“Yeah, just… Sorry.” He tried to brush it off, finally standing up, walking to the kitchen. His hands hidden deep in the back pockets of his jeans.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He knows that took courage out of you to ask, you start cleaning the plates, the sponge bubbling up as you squeezed it.

“Do you want me to dry?” He asks back, stepping closer to you, nodding to your previous question, looking for a way to be close to you.

“Sure.” You step to the left, letting him a bit of space for him to fit, his waits hitting his, a comforting touch that makes his brain slow down once more. “Did I do something? While we were eating?” You try to ask, not sure why he went quiet all of a sudden. Not sure why Wayne had vanished and let you two alone, or why he nodded at Eddie before doing so.

“No, you were amazing. I can tell Wayne already likes you.” He admits, drying the first plate, his voice was shaking a bit in anticipation about the conversation he knew you were about to have. “It’s just… I haven’t been embarrassed about Hellfire in like, ever. And suddenly the fear that you might I dunno, think it’s dumb, or that you wouldn’t like me being like, this huge nerd, that hangs out with Highschoolers while you are supposed to be a teacher and I…” He was talking faster and faster, his words were starting to fuse together, catching up to the speed in which his brain was thinking about it all.

You turn the faucet off, paying him full attention. He catches that in the midst of his rumbling. His eyes lock with yours, as nervous tears make his eyes crystallize.

“Shit I barely graduated. I hated school, I was a freak who liked to play or still likes rather, who tried to defend anyone even if I got beat up or called shitty things and then I got a kid and shit… You have been nothing but nice and you literally are like a I dunno, a princess. Kind and all that shit I don’t… I don’t really deserve it.”

You shake your head as he talks, wanting to interrupt but not really being able to. You just take his hand, a soft touch that lets him know he’s being heard.

“Moon.” He can’t help but look at the way your lips move when you call him by the sweetest nickname he had ever been called, only made better by your voice. Your thumb tracing drabbles on the back of his hand. “I like that you’re a nerd.” He can feel the sincerity of your voice, only made more evident by the smile that painted your lips. “I like it because I like you.” You tell him, your eyes looking at the way his lips part, his head shaking in embarrassment. “I don’t care if you play whatever game, or hang out with whoever, because that makes you who you are. And that’s who I like.”

“Idiot.” It’s the only thing he can manage to say back, with the stupidest widest smile you had seen from him.

“Hopefully yours.” You tease back, turning back to keep cleaning more dishes.

He just stands there, mesmerized by you, and the way that you treat him, how you make him feel. He just gives in the urge, his arms wrapping to your waist, his chest hitting your back. You gave in a bit, pushing into him, melting in his arms.

He took the opportunity to kiss your neck, right where it made your skin tingle, goosebumps being sent through your body. He kisses the same spot again after he hears a giggle turning into a soft moan.

You turn to him, finally giving him a decent kiss.

His lips intertwined with yours, the softness contradicted with the underlining neediness of his touch, both of you smiling through the kiss, his hands in the small of your waist, pulling you in closer, your hands lost in his hair, tugging it in a way he thought was heavenly.

“Yeah, hopefully mine.” He finally responded, once he broke off the kiss, his forehead still touching yours, his hands tracing circles on your skin, under your shirt. You couldn’t stop playing with the ends of his hair.

You stayed a bit longer like that, soft caress left on your body, as you just held each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another.

He had come over, right when you were ending your shift, panic in his eyes. He was stressed, you could tell that much, switching his order from regular to decaf. He told you, that he had just been called to cover a late shift, and that he didn’t know if he could take Lua with him, because it would be too late, that Wayne had the night shift and wouldn’t be home until 6 in the morning, how much he just needed some reassurance, maybe a little kiss -he couldn’t stop teasing, not even if he tried, not even when he was panicking- but he wasn’t expecting your response to all of this.

“I could go over and watch her.”

You saw how his thoughts stopped for a moment, and how the warmth he felt in his heart after he heard your words spread through his cheeks. He asked if you were sure, if you actually didn’t mind. He reminded you that you didn’t have to do it, that it wasn’t your responsibility nor did he want to impose you with something you weren’t ready for.

“I’d love to spend some time with her. Maybe she’ll even like me more than you in the end.”

He chuckled, added a no way and thanked you a bit too much, finalizing it all with a quick kiss before he headed out, already late for his shift.

A to go cup in his hand.

Wayne had also thanked you profusely, even if he was a man of no words, he gave you a smile and a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. Lua was sitting down on the couch, mumbling along to the words to her favourite princess movie, while she swanged her hand around, holding on tightly to her chocolate chip cookie.

You sat down next to her, she squeezed in closer to you.

“You really like Aurora, don’t you?” Your voice was always higher in pitch when you talked to her, slower, softer. You thought that maybe you did that, in a way, because if someone had been kinder to you when you were little, maybe things would have been easier.

“She’s the best.” She answered, as if it was painfully obvious. “She lives in the woods, like me!” She pointed out, as soon as the little cottage came on the screen.

“She does.”

“And Dada says I’m special like her.” You noticed how her eyes shined when she talked about Eddie, the care and love he had for her reciprocating in the way she talked.

“You are.” You reassured her, brushing her hair with your fingers, she cuddled with you, a smile on her face.

Three fast knocks on the door made you startled. Lua had just gone to bed, and you were a bit busy cleaning the mess you ended up doing. Thankfully, you were used to cleaning after yourself, white papers filled with doodles, and teddies laid on the floor next to the couch. You looked at the clock, and you saw that Eddie still had a while to come home, and he wouldn’t knock, he would just barge in. So with an unsure pace, you made your way to the trailer door, opening it as the little boy was screaming Eddie’s name.

“Oh, hi.” He mumbled, as soon as he saw you.

“Hi. You’re… Dustin?” He took a quick look at you, scanning the scene before he dared to say anything else, not really understanding why you opened the door and not his friend who actually lived there.

“Uh, yeah. We met.” He was measuring his words, still a bit unsure as to what he was supposed to do now. “Where’s Eddie?”

“D’you wanna come in?” You both had asked the questions at the same time, so when he nodded, you just stepped to the side so he could come in. You noticed the backpack he had glued to his back, his straps tighter so the weight wouldn’t bother him. “What do you got there?” You pointed at the heavy back with your finger, a curious tone in your voice that made him grab it, before putting it on the table.

“Oh, I was supposed to meet Eddie.” He said, before seeing you nod, wanting to know more, as you sat down. He followed your movements, as he opened the bag. “He left me some of his D&D stuff, and he was supposed to help me with some things I wanted to add to my first campaign.” He started yapping, you saw that just as Eddie, he talked faster when he was excited about a topic.

“That’s the game you were playing the other day?” You ask sincerely, he nods, as he starts to fill the table with books, little figurines, papers that had scribbling with two different handwriting, sketches… You got lost into all of it for a second, Dustin watching at the way you seemed to analyze it all. “Could you… like, teach me stuff about it?”

“Why?” Dustin scrunched his nose, not really following you, his eyebrows almost meeting on the bridge of his nose.

“Eddie really likes this game, and he talks about it, and I don’t always follow, but I don’t wanna bother him with too many questions so…”

Dustin's wide smile was all the confirmation you needed.

You were starting to get it, you had races, and classes and the little numbers on the paper sheets where abilities, that you decided rolling weird sided dice.

You were in to deep, trying to understand and following him closely, as he flipped through the pages of the big dense book he had between the both of you.

Maybe that’s why neither of you heard him when he walked in.

He was about to talk, his mouth remained open, but as soon as he saw you both, he stayed there. His body against the door frame, his arms crossed above his chest as he just looked, with the fondest stupidest smile on his lips as he saw just how much interest you had in whatever Dustin was talking to you about.

“So you can mix and match any classes and races?” You ask, Eddie's heart stops for a moment, he hadn’t realised you were talking about his game.

“Yeah, I mean if you were to play a bard which was…?” Dustin was questioning you, seeing if you remembered what he had just spent some time trying to explain to you.

“An unhinged rockstar that likes to tell stories.”

“So basically Eddie.” Dustin made the same joke again, making you giggle, whilst Eddie tried to hide his chuckle, wanting to know what you’d say without you knowing he was there.

“That’s my man.” You teased back, in a singing tone that made Dustin laugh as he looked back down at the book.

“Yeah, so, if you made your Bard a Half-Elf, it would automatically get a +2 to charisma, which is extremely useful to them.” He cheered, you nodded. You knew that Dustin was feeling a bit proud, as he was explaining these things to you.

“And they also get a +1 stat boost to other abilities.” Eddie finally chirped in, making his presence known.

He smiled widely, as he walked over to you. His arms falling to his side, his heart beating faster as if it were eager to finally be near yours.

“Hi.” You said, voice barely above a whisper as he got closer.

“Hi.” He answered, closing the distance between your lips with a quick peck.

Dustin was happy, seeing the way Eddie melted when you were close, he liked seeing his friend act like that. All soft, as opposed to the thought persona he had to give out when he was still in school, back when they met each other.

“Dustin was helping me understand your game.” You told him, eyes shining up at him. “But you’re the one he wants to ask stuff to, so… I’ll head home. See you soon Henderson.” You told the cap wearing boy, with a soft squeeze to his shoulder, he waved bye to you, looking as Eddie walked you to the door. “Lua’s been asleep for a while, so don’t worry about that.” You told him, getting a bit lost into him, which you were starting to realise you had no control over, when his eyes looked like chocolate pools under the moonlight.

“Have I told you how amazing you are?” He told you, pushing a small flock of hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek with his thumb a bit longer than he really needed to.

You shook your head in disbelief, your eyes not letting go from his stare. You bite your lower lip, a bit from shame, a bit from childish excitement over kind words. He lowered his thumb, pulling your lip down so you wouldn’t bite it.

The delicate move, the roughness of his callused finger contradicting with the softness of it all, sends your body into overdrive.

Goosebumps not only filled your body, but his too. He felt it just as much as you need, the spark, the electricity, the fire. It screamed i need you, though sometimes, it seemed like it was screaming i love you, or rather i could love you if you let me.

“Why?” Is the only thing you could gather to ask, your voice shaking a bit from want, or need. Eddie felt like your voice was a velvety hug on his skin.

“Just, you really are.”

He kissed you. His thumb tilted your jaw upwards so he could reach your lips, even if it was a simple movement, it still made your head a bit dizzy. You took a step closer to him, amidst the kiss, so your waist would touch his, so you could get your hands on the back of his neck, burying them in his hair. Your tongues touch, and you feel out of breath. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from smiling, he was too happy, and it was all thanks to you.

“Goodnight Moon.” You whispered into his ear, finally pulling away.

“Goodnight Princess.”

He could have stayed there, watching you leave forever, if it weren’t for Dustin’s soft teasing. A stream of oh lover boy! that came from inside the trailer, it couldn’t even bother him, not even a little bit.

Because deep down he knew, he was falling deep in love with you.

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

requests! are open

@took-me-hours-to-steal-those @edens-vices-art @micheledawn1975 @peachystenbrough @mewchiili @bylermaxmayfield @yujyujj @honeymoonmunsonn @paleidiot @ali-r3n @sunshineandwitchery @supernaturalstilinski @womencriedpower @saramelaniemoon @cultish-corner @babyloutattoo89 @witchwolflea @serenadingtigers @readergf @guineveresghost @saramelaniemoon

part 4 is up, thank for the support dudes <3

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artaxlivs · 9 months

Text

This is ridiculous.

Eddie has important stuff To Do. He's a busy rockstar with a never ending list of stuff his manager and agent keep reminding him that he needs to get done while he's not on tour.

But. His house is being remodeled. And one of the carpenters or handymen or journey...men? journey people? whatever. One of the dudes in a tool belt. Well - he's hot as all hell and Eddie can't seem to find a single fuck to mark off that To Do list.

Every day this man shows up in jeans that hug his ass, a tool belt slung low to one side and this pristine white polo shirt with a logo over his left pec. The other people - people not men because there are actually three women in the mix, all with arms that could crush Eddie, and if he was into chicks, he'd be looking respectfully - are all in various dark colored shirts with a similar logo on the back or in the same spot on the chest.

But White Polo is the only white polo. White Polo must be in charge. He does seem to give a lot of orders. He's got big sexy hair and a strong voice. The first time Eddie was close enough to hear him talk, he had some feelings about that strong voice giving orders. The kind of feelings he explored later that night in his own bed. Alone.

It's not a mean voice though, not aggressive. Rather, it's the kind of voice that steadies you in a storm, that you can rely on. The kind of voice that probably sounds gravelly and sleep mussed on a Saturday morning. The kind you want to wake up to. The voice that Eddie wants to wake up to.

And it's not just the voice and the looks. It's the competency, too. Earlier this morning, White Polo was helping the crew put some kind of wood frame up. He hammered something in and then twirled the hammer and stuffed it in the tool belt all without looking. That was going directly to Eddie's spank bank. Maybe he could find other things for them to remodel so White Polo never has to leave.

"Mr. Munson?"

Eddie startles, almost dropping his Garfield coffee mug. There's a lot of noise in the house and he was sort of doing one of the things on his list. Writing a song in his head. It was definitely not about a man in a tool belt. Nor was it about anyone getting nailed.

Jesus Christ.

Clearing his throat, Eddie turns to White Polo, "It's just Eddie."

"Well, Just Eddie, I'm Steve." His voice is soft, strong though, with that little bit of gravel. It's not Eddie's fault at all that he's imagining him whispering in Eddie's ear when they're both sleep warm and too comfortable to get out of bed. "Looks like we'll be done here in another two days."

"Oh." He says dejectedly, not meaning to have such an honest reaction but he can't help himself. He's wasted three days just glancing at White Polo - Steve - from afar. Now Eddie's on a time limit. Two days isn't nearly enough time. Would it be inappropriate to invite him to dinner? Or to stay? Ask him for --"Coffee?"

Steve smiles and it's kind of small, like it's a secret smile, just for Eddie. Brushing his hair back over his ear, Steve says, "I shouldn't but...your coffee smells kinda great so...sure."

Grinning, Eddie tells him that he gets the beans from this little mom and pop shop that brews their own beans. The band discovered them on tour years ago and he still gets his beans shipped from them every few months. He's babbling but he can't seem to stop himself, telling Steve about different roasts and his fancy machine that cost more than his first van back when he was sixteen and living in a trailer park.

Leaning against the counter, Steve listens patiently, watching Eddie with hazel eyes and that little smile. He's got these cute moles that Eddie wants to kiss. Broad shoulders he wants to feel pressed up against the backs of his knees.

Shit. He almost spills the coffee when his face suddenly heats up at that.

"Everything okay?" There's concern in Steve's voice and he reaches out to steady Eddie's arm. His callused fingers brush Eddie's arm just over his bat tattoo and...oh.

It's like nothing he's ever imagined. So much more than all the stories. It's the biggest, brightest, most intense thing Eddie's ever felt. Just a brush of fingertips and the spots light up with gold. Three brushes across the bats' wings and a fourth smaller one off to the side. Eddie can feel the tingling on the underside of his forearm where Steve's thumb must have brushed as well.

Surging forward, Eddie cups Steve's cheek, leaving a bright gold palm print on his jaw, a thumb smear up by the cheek bone, bits of gold in the shapes of fingers curling along the side of his throat, and one little dab on the lobe of Steve's ear. Their lips are pressed together before Steve's fully reacted to the soul bond but that's okay. They don't have two days, they've got forever.

A few years later, when Corroded Coffin wins album of the year at the Grammys, Gareth takes the mic away from Eddie as he's doing all the polite thank yous to managers and agents etc - and he thanks Steve, telling the world, "If Steve had never been a hot guy in a tool belt, Eddie would never have written Golden Bats, Hammer of Love or, Eddie's favorite," Gareth says, grinning and leaning really close to the mic like it's a secret, 'cause it kind of is, "Ride the White Polo."

My Masterlist

While there are other gold touch soulmate mark fics, I've only ever read them in @kangofu-cb's Gold on Your Fingertips in the Winterhawk fandom and it will always be both one of my favorite soulmate fics and one of my favorite Clint Barton fics.

#I'm so so gay for a soulmate fic #Also on the album is To Do Me List #construction worker steve harrington #Just steve in a toolbelt really #send me you favorite soulmate recs i will read them all #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

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2btheanswertothequestion · 1 year

Text

(part 3 of November Paramedic; part 2 is here.)

When Gareth mentioned a plan to locate Eddie’s paramedic in shining armor, Eddie assumed it'd be him getting into various accidents all over Indianapolis. It's something the little shit would've found funny, okay! But, Gareth's plan is much less hazardous and slightly more logical: lurk around the university until they spot him. Like a pair of drug dealers trying to tempt the goody-two-shoes protagonist into addiction and sin on an 80s Saturday morning cartoon.

It's not the simplest task since they don't know when Steve might be there. Also, other responsibilities mean they can only spare so many hours loitering. So, thirteen days post-hatching plan and nineteen days post-meeting Steve (not that Eddie's been counting or anything), with nothing to show for their ethically questionable behavior, Eddie is ready to give up. Especially since both of them have a rare simultaneous day off. Usually, those are spent jamming, smoking, playing D&D… literally anything other than this.

"This is fucking stupid," he says, cigarette clenched between his teeth. "We're not gonna run into him."

"Sure we are," Gareth says. He drops his butt among the dozens they've chain-smoked and lights another without meeting Eddie's gaze. "We're getting closer. I can feel it."

"The only thing you're feeling is delusional. It's time to give up."

"Eddie, c'mon-"

"Nope." One last drag and Eddie stomps out his cig. "Fuck this; I'm out."

He stalks toward his van at the far end of the parking lot. Gareth curses before running after him.

"Dude!" he exclaims, jogging to keep up with Eddie's longer strides. "You can't just give up! What about what you said-"

"I was being stupid. What was I even imagining? We orchestrate another meeting and, what, I use my freakish wiles and seduce him? And then we'll live happily ever after…" Eddie shakes his head. "It doesn't work like that. He'd probably turn out to be a douche anyhow."

"No, listen!" Gareth seizes Eddie's arm and yanks him to a stop in the middle of the lot. "You always do this. Self-sabotage and cut things short, even when there's potential."

Eddie scoffs. "You know what else always happens? I end up liking them more than they like me. It's not fun."

"You don't know it'll be like that this time. You have to try."

"No."

Eddie takes a step back. He's done; he's out. Gareth reaches for his wrist to pull him back in. He jerks away, almost losing his footing and stumbling into the burgundy car behind him. Gareth's arms shoot out to help, but Eddie steadies himself before crashing. For a second, silence reigns as they assure everyone's on solid ground. Then Eddie opens his mouth to once and for all-

"Eddie? Gareth?"

Their heads snap to the side, eyes landing on… Max? Looking unusually dressy in high-waisted shorts and a fitted top under an oversized jacket, and her hair in a high ponytail. She's got her skateboard under her arm, a messenger bag with a textbook sticking out, and a confused furrow between her eyebrows.

"What are you doing here?" she asks.

Fuck. They can't tell her the truth – she'll never let him live it down. Fortunately, Gareth realizes this too, because he says:

"Uh, I go to school here? What are you doing here? The math building is way over there."

She rolls her eyes and leans on the burgundy car. It's a shiny BMW M5 – the limited anniversary edition. Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie almost dented that thing! It's worth more than his life. And Max is slouching against it like it's nothing. He could warn her not to scratch it, but she's unlikely to care; she's always been metal that way.

"Waiting for my friends," she says. "We have dinner on Tuesdays."

Eddie's ears ignite. Dinner? With friends? While wearing what's basically a date outfit?

"Ooohhh…" he says, sharing a grin with Gareth. "And do these friends include someone special?"

She shrugs, looking anywhere but at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"C'mon, Red! You're killing me! I need to know if he's good enough for you."

His fingers hover over her ponytail, as if to tug at it. She slaps his hand away.

"You're annoying."

He laughs. This terrible day just became infinitely better. He won't rest until he gets what he wants – or until she punches him, which'll probably come first. He's about to tell her so when a voice calls her name. Both turn to look, and…

It's a boy Max's age. He's beaming and waving, quickening his steps toward her. She smiles too, almost shyly, as she waves back. It's the perfect opportunity for teasing, if Eddie's day hadn't just become infinitely better.

His tongue is heavy, his skin is itching, his heart is bruising his ribs from the inside. Sweat is gathering in his pits and it's getting a little hard to breathe. Because walking half a pace behind the boy, carrying a huge duffel with such ease it might actually be stuffed with feathers, is… is…

"Yesssss!" Gareth hisses next to him. He may also be fist-pumping. Eddie isn't looking.

"Hey!" The boy stops in front of Max. "Sorry, practice ran late."

"It's okay," she says, cooler than ice, though her eyes are glittering. "I just got here."

She says something else, or maybe the boy does? It's all background noise, because Steve has caught up. Steve, in jeans and a polo that must've been tailored to his exact measurements because oooooooooohhhh boy. Steve, unshouldering the bag, muscles shifting and straining under his shirt with the movement. Steve, smiling, his golden eyes flying over Eddie.

"Hey! Eddie and Gareth, right?"

Eddie draws a sharp breath. He remembers!

"Y-Yeah!" he squeaks, hands fluttering to either wave or shake hands, ultimately doing neither. "Hi! You're here!"

"I am," Steve says, casual, as if inane conversations with former patients happen on the regular.

(It better not – Eddie doesn't do well in competitive settings.)

Max, keen eyes darting between them, asks, "You know each other?"

"Met at work," Steve says. "Or, I was working and he…"

"Ah." Max taps her temple. "That."

"How do you know them?" the boy asks her.

She points at Eddie. "Neighbor. And that's the guy who dumpster dives outside our apartment building."

Gareth flips her off. Eddie would laugh, but he's busy pretending he doesn't know what Steve looks like shirtless. It's hard (pun slowly growing more relevant) – his gaze keeps dropping to the polo's undone top button. Steve is just as gorgeous out of uniform, and now Eddie's thighs are tingling with want. He could stare at him forever…

Unfortunately, 'forever' is cut short by a woman arriving in a flurry. Wait, no. 'Flurry' implies some sort of graceful whimsy, while this person… she's a hurricane crashing into a house.

"Sorry I'm late! Nielsen wouldn't stop talking and got angry when people started leaving because it's an important lecture so this girl called him out for not keeping time because he goes on all these tangents and he said they're interesting tidbits and she said it's disrespecting our time and-" She pauses for breath. "You don't care, do you?"

Max, Steve, and the boy shake their heads.

"Right. Sorry." The woman turns to Eddie and Gareth. "Hi! I'm Robin. And you are?"

"My neighbor and his friend. Steve treated his concussion," Max rattles off, glaring at them. "You didn't answer my question: why are you here?"

Gareth frowns. "I told you," he says, pointing at the building. "School." He points at himself. "Student."

Max glares harder. "You don't have class on Tuesdays. And Eddie doesn't go here at all."

"I had stuff I needed to drop off."

"Is tagging along a crime? Jesus."

Max doesn't reply, though her glare remains.

Robin hums. "Okay, so this is super-enjoyable, I love just standing around, but I'm starving, so…" She looks at Steve, who nods.

"Yeah, we're going," he says, but neither moves. He glances at Eddie, which makes her glance at Eddie, and then they make a series of eyebrow-movements at each other, ending in a shared smile. Steve asks, "Have you guys eaten yet?"

Eddie shakes his head, pulse racing. Is this going where he thinks it is?

"D'you wanna come with? There's this diner we like…"

Holyshityesitis!

"Yeah!" Fuck, too eager. "I mean, uh, sure, sounds good."

"Cool." Grinning, Steve clicks a remote car key; the burgundy BMW beeps. What the fuck? How high is a paramedic's salary?! "Did you drive here?"

"I, uh…" Eddie falters. Shit, wasn't he supposed to? It's been three weeks and he feels fine – he thought he was in the green!

"Nope! I did!" Gareth says, 'proving' it by hauling his house keys from his pocket and jingling them.

Steve nods. "Should be safe for you to drive again, but the less strain you put on your brain, the better. Even a mild concussion isn't anything to sneeze at."

"Y-Yeah, I've been taking it easy. Basically done nothing. Until now."

Max snorts. Eddie is going to pour coffee through her mail slot.

They decide Eddie and Gareth will follow Steve's car to the diner, since Steve can't fit all of them (the real reason he asked if they drove here, duh). It's good because Eddie gets the chance to panic/gush/collect himself in the privacy of his van. It's bad because Gareth drives, lest their fib be revealed. Gareth spends the ten-minute journey gloating about driving Eddie's beloved girl, interspersed with 'I told you so!'s.

The diner is cozy, all wooden furniture and sepia photographs on the walls. A graying waitress who smells like tobacco directs them to a booth and takes their orders. An awkward silence then falls as they wait for someone to speak.

The boy clears his throat. "My name is Lucas, by the way. I don't think I said." After shaking his hand and introducing themselves, Lucas says to Eddie, "I think Max has mentioned you."

"Oh yeah? I've been dying for her to mention y- Ow!"

Eddie rubs where Max kicked his shin. Her glare is murderous. Lucas is blushing happily, though.

"So, what d'you guys do?" Robin asks.

Right. Time to small-talk like adults. Eddie gets his job as a mechanic out of the way, then gives the word to Gareth, who tells them he's a creative writing major. Robin turns out to be getting a masters in linguistics and Lucas studies biology.

"I don't actually know what I want to do, but biology feels broad enough to give me options, y'know? I can go to med school, or forensics, or, I don't know, paleontology?" he says. Max glows brighter with every word that comes out of his mouth. Cute.

This then segues into talking about their friends, who by the sound of it lead incredibly interesting lives.

"Dustin's at MIT, Mike's at Oxford, Will's in San Francisco…" Lucas says, counting on his fingers.

Max interjects, "El's in Africa building houses and teaching kids English."

"Erica is still at home, finishing high school and drowning in early acceptance letters to, like, every Ivy League there is," Steve says with a look of pure pride.

"Nancy and Jonathan – they're our age – are chasing scoops in Afghanistan… " Robin says.

"... and Argyle is also in California," Lucas finishes.

Eddie whistles. "And here we are, still in Indianapolis."

"Dude, I'm surprised I got this far," Steve says. "Wouldn't've managed without her."

He jerks a thumb in Robin's direction, who preens at the acknowledgment. Robin's cool, Eddie decides. Garrulous but fun and nice… and verrrrrrrrry close to Steve. The kind of close where they're always in each other's space. Where they wordlessly transfer food between their plates. Where Steve unceremoniously wipes a speck of ketchup off Robin's chin after she repeatedly fails to get it. They're comfortable, but not necessarily romantically affectionate. Like they're siblings rather than lovers.

(Dear God, if you are in heaven, let them be siblings.)

Conversation flows. They joke around, tell stories, swap opinions. Robin gets passionate about tonal shifts when stage shows are adapted to film, and Eddie tries not to stare at Steve's mouth as he eats. And then, once their plates are cleaned and they're waiting for dessert, Gareth leans his elbows on the table and fixes Steve with a purposeful look.

"I figured out where I've seen you before."

Eddie stiffens.

Steve blinks. "At campus, right?"

"Thought so, but no. I realized it's actually…" Gareth chuckles. "It's ridiculous, but uh, my mom had this calendar…"

Steve recoils, red flooding his face. Robin, Lucas, and Max shriek in delight, Robin grabbing Steve's arm and shaking it as he hides behind his hands.

"And my mom," Gareth says between bursts of laughter, "she's shameless, all right? She kept it in our kitchen. So during, what was it, November?"

"November," Steve confirms, muffled.

"For 30 days, if I wanted to check the date or make a notation… I saw you."

Tears stream down Robin's face, she's laughing so hard. She and Max have started chanting 'Slut! Slut! Slut!' at the still crimson Steve.

"You don't understand," Lucas says, gesturing for emphasis. "We've been waiting for someone to come up and say 'hey, weren't you…?' for years. Thank you so much!"

"Hey, thank my mom," Gareth says. Eddie's quite stunned he'd throw his own mother under the bus like that. She's a really nice person, too!

"Makes sense," Max says. "Moms love Steve."

"All parents do," Lucas says.

Cackling, Robin pinches Steve's cheek. "Gotta hide your mom and your dad around Steve!"

Steve bats her off, flushed but smiling. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. You got your wish, now shut it."

That only makes the three restart the chant to ridicule him for his harlotry. Steve's indignant squawk that 'it was for charity!' merely has everyone laugh more.

And Eddie? Well. As he sits beholding this man who works as a paramedic and drives a luxury car, who models for charity and allows his friends to mock him for it, who blushes and giggles when they lovingly call him a whore…

All Eddie can think is that he's in fucking trouble.

Afterward, it only makes sense for Eddie to drive Max home. Steve shakes his hand outside the diner, saying it was nice to see him again. Eddie, not knowing how to ask for Steve's contact info without seeming weird, agrees. He waits until the BMW drives off, then tells Gareth to get the fuck out of his seat. Gareth relocates to the backseat, whining since Max already called shotgun.

The initial minutes, they're quiet. Then Max turns to Gareth and says:

"When were you telling me Eddie is your mom?"

"Huh?"

"You said you knew about the calendar because of your mom. But that's not true."

The warmth drains from Eddie's face; his knuckles crack around the steering wheel. Gareth's expression is the epitome of 'oh shit' when he meets Eddie's gaze in the rear-view mirror.

"Yes, it is," Gareth says.

"It's not," Max says.

"It is!"

"It's not! The calendar was for 2021, and in November '21 you were a freshman and had already moved into the dorms! If your mom kept it in her kitchen, you wouldn't have seen it!"

She scowls at Gareth, mouth pinched and eyes flashing, daring him to contradict her.

Gareth swallows thickly. "It… wasn't for 2021."

"Yes, it was."

"How do you know?"

She puts her hands in her lap and lifts her chin, almost primly. Eddie gasps as the penny drops.

Gareth screams, "WHAT!"

"You have it?" Eddie cries. "Why do you have it?"

She scoffs. "You know why – you've seen his pecs."

"I don't- Okay, how're you so sure it's me?"

"Because you spent all of dinner looking like you wanted to crawl inside his mouth and live there." Her nose wrinkles. "At least I hope it was his mouth you want to crawl into-"

She's cut off by Gareth shouting "I can't hear you! Lalalalalalala-"

Eddie crumples in his seat. He's depleted of blood, air, life, everything. Behind, Gareth is grilling Max for information: are Steve and Robin together? Is Steve single? Is he queer?

Max replies: no, yes, and 'that's not for me to tell, moron'.

Gareth nods, satisfied. "That means he is. If he was straight, you'd say so." He slaps Eddie's arm. "You got a shot, man!"

"You… don't know that…" Eddie wheezes.

Max tuts, shaking her head. "You actually want to hit on my chauffeur."

"He prefers the term 'seduce'," Gareth says.

Eddie smacks his face into the steering wheel at the next red light.

------------------------------

Tag list: @rougenancy, @raisedbylibrarians, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @emma77645, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @eddielives1986, @stevesbipanic, @the-redthread, @fandemonium-takes-its-toll, @henderdads, @gay-little-bitch, @lordofthepointygerbils, @lenore1232, @imzadidragonfly, @zerokrox-blog, @eddiemunsonswife, @cherrycolas-things, @ediewentmissing, @princess-eddie, @atombombbibunny, @ajamlessbaby, @dogswithforks, @grimmfitzz, @cutiecusp, @cuips-not-cute, @manicallydepressedrobot, @messrs-weasley, @madaboutmunson, @mightbeasleep, @suikatto, @brassreign, @snapshotmaestro, @bea-sayan, @courtjestermunson, @csinnamon-fox, @steveisabicon, @spectrum-spectre, @spinmewriteround, @just-super-fucking-gay, @escapingthereality, @oneweirdcryptid, @deehellcat, @misticageri, @lovelyscot, @olivethenerd16, @linkydinky06, @rynnytintin, @anything-thats-rock-and-roll,

I won't be adding more to the tag list because there are already so many of you. Instead, I'll be tagging the four remaining parts (it'll definitely be seven in total, btw) as #steddie fic: november paramedic. Hopefully, they'll show up in the tags and you'll see them that way.

Thank you for reading 🖤

Part 4

#the entire conversation in the van - and the purpose of max's role - came to me late at night #and i was so excited i could barely sleep afterward #everything fell into place after that #steddie fic: november paramedic #steddie #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #max mayfield #my writing #ok so about the car:#(first off i want to admit i know nothing about cars)#in the show steve drives a bmw 733i. the car is gorgeous imo. however while luxurious at the time it's not expensive today.#so i looked up modern luxury cars and found the 30 jahre m5 - the limited edition from when bmw m5 celebrated 30yrs in 2014 #only 300 got made and only 30 were sold in the us. they were as you might imagine expensive.#so the story here is that steve got one for his 16th birthday (would've been in 2015 in this fic)#probably from a doting grandparent since i doubt his parents would've given something so expensive to a teen #fun fact: every 30 jahre m5 is colored 'frozen dark silver' (gray. they're fucking gray.)#but since it's NOT steve's car if it's not burgundy and since i've already erased covid's existence... i don't think this change matters

3K notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 4 months

Note

My friend, can you believe after all these years I’ve come to finally appreciate Steve as more than a friend?

So I’ve come with a request. A very reluctant friends to lovers w Steve! Maybe Reader has never understood why all the girls love Steve and has always been just a good friend to him until one day. Something just clicks and he’s suddenly seen in a different light all together.

AN | In which you fall for Steve slowly, and then realize all at once 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I think I’m going to be single forever,” you sighed as you sat down across from Steve, happy to see that he’d already ordered your favorite coffee. He raised an eyebrow in greeting as you reached over and squeezed his hand.

“Your date went that well?” he grabbed his own coffee and took a long sip as you shrugged.

“He wasn’t the worst,” you rested your cheek in your hand, “until he dropped me off at home and asked me to suck him off before I got out of his car. So, putting it lightly, I won’t be seeing him ever again.”

“I’m sorry, honey,” he gave you a small smile as you just shrugged. If he was being completely honest, he wasn’t that sorry. Sorry that you had to go through that but not sorry that it didn’t work out. He loathed the idea of you going out with anyone else, “you didn’t deserve that.”

“Thanks,” at least you always had Steve. You hoped that one day you would find a man as good as him. He was everything to you, and you hoped he knew that as well, “one day it’ll work out with someone. Until then, I guess I have to keep kissing the frogs.”

He made a small sound and nodded in agreement. It was then that you noticed the girl behind the counter watched the two of you - Steve - with a wistful look on her face. Your lips drew in a thin line as you tried to hide your eye roll. It wasn’t that uncommon; girls often stared at him wherever you went.

“What?” he nudged your foot under the table and shot you a coy smile, “what’s that look for?”

“Nothing…”

“Liar.”

“Fine,” you leaned in closer so only he could hear you, “that girl behind the counter is practically drooling over you.”

“Oh,” he laughed softly before leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest, “what’s so bad about that, huh? Are you jealous?”

That made you scoff slightly as you waved your hand at him. That was definitely not the word you’d use. He was your best friend after all, “as if. That’s not quite the word I would use. Annoyed? Bemused? Those are more accurate.”

“Very funny,” this time it was his turn to roll his eyes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him, “would you want to do tonight?”

“I dunno,” to be honest, you were still a little down after your disastrous date, “whatever you want to do is fine, Stevie.”

“Nope,” he stood up and reached for your hand. Motioning for you to follow him, “that’s not what I asked - what do you want to do? You know I’m just happy to spend time with you.”

“Well that’s just the thing, Harrington,” you slipped your hand into his, “I’m just happy to spend time with you.”

And you meant it. Everything was a million times better with him.

“Yeah,” he smiled softly at you, making your heart almost melt, “I’ll pick tonight then and you pick next time. Deal?”

“Deal!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were taking a walk around the park to kill some before your dinner reservations, hot chocolates in hand. Steve had surprised you with it since you’d been whining about how much you wanted before meeting up. You were reminded again just how amazing and wonderful your best friend was.

“It’s pretty out,” you mused as you lightly kicked a big pile of golden and orange leaves. It was almost winter, and you were taking advantage of the weather before it got too cold to do anything for a few months.

“It is,” he agreed, but he wasn’t looking at any of the nature surrounding you. He was looking right at you, “it really is.”

Before you could say anything else, you heard a small scream coming from near the playground. The two of you looked at each other before rushing towards the sound. When you reached the jungle gym, you found a young girl sitting at the bottom of the slide, crying as she held her leg.

You looked around but didn’t see any adults nearby. Steve didn’t waste a moment before handing you his cup and going over to the small girl. A couple of other kids were still running around and playing, but a few stopped to watch him.

“Hey sweetheart,” he dropped to his knees so he was on her level, his voice soft and gentle, “what happened?”

“I fell off the slide and hurt my leg,” she looked at him with big, wide eyes, cheeks wet with tears, “it hurts really bad.”

“Can I take a look at it?” your heart melted at how gentle and tender he was. Steve just had such a way with everyone - but kids especially. It definitely made you feel some kind of way. The girl nodded immediately, her dark curls bobbing as he looked at her leg. He made a few sounds before reaching up and wiping away some of her tears, “the good news is that I think you’ll be just fine. The even better news is that you’re super brave for how well you handled this.”

“Promise?” she asked and Steve held out his pinkie to her.

“Pinky promise,” he grinned as she laughed softly at him, “did you come here with your parents?”

“Yeah,” she looked around, “they were going for a walk and said they’d be back soon. I was just playing with the other kids.”

“Maybe we should go and find them, huh?” he ruffled her hair and she nodded, slowly attempting to stand up. Steve held up his hand in order to help steady her and she gladly took it, “what’s your name?”

“Lucy,” she reached for his hand and started to slowly walk. Her knee was skinned, as it often happened with kids, but otherwise she was unscathed. She paused and looked up at her savior, “what’s your name?”

“Steve,” he told her and she looked over at you. Steve followed her gaze and smiled at you before offering her your name. Lucy grinned and waved her small hand eagerly at you.

“Is she your girlfriend?” she loudly whispered to him, making you laugh softly as you pretended not to hear, “she’s really pretty.”

“She’s my best friend,” there was something about the way he said it that made your heart feel a little bit of a pang. It just didn’t sound quite…right. But you weren’t going to question that just yet, “she’s really nice too. C’mon kiddo, let’s go and find your parents.”

“Okay,” Lucy started to pull his hand and marched in the direction of where her parents would be. Steve followed diligently behind her, shooting you a wink as you trailed after the two of them. Yeah… this was definitely making you feel something.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next couple of weeks it was like something had shifted in the way you viewed Steve. Not that you’d ever had anything but love for him, but it was starting to feel a little…different. It felt like you were seeing him in this new, honeyed golden light.

It was like you were noticing so many things about him for the first time, despite the fact that he hadn’t changed a single thing about himself. You noticed how he always held the door open for others, how he helped anyone that needed, when he’d let people in line go in front of him, when he’d pay for someone else’s coffee just to make their day. The way that people, especially women, always looked at him in wonder, suddenly made sense. He was just…everything. And you’d been so oblivious the whole time.

“What’s wrong?” You were at the grocery store with Steve, but you’d stopped mid aisle when you saw him helping some with getting a few things off a high shelf. He turned back to you and gently tugged on your sleeve, “are you okay? You’re being weird.”

“You’re being weird,” your face was practically burning at having been caught daydreaming about your best friend. He snorted in amusement, “sorry, just thinking.”

“Must be something important,” he gently tugged you along, back over to the car, “if it’s got you so distracted.”

“It’s…” you. But you weren’t about to admit that just that so randomly in the middle of the grocery store on a Saturday afternoon. Maybe you’d never admit it. You weren’t completely sure yet, “nothing. It’s…nothing at all.”

“You sure?” he looked concerned for a moment, giving your hand a small squeeze.

“Positive,” you really liked the feeling of his hand in yours. You’d never noticed just how much, “just been feeling a little…off lately I think.”

He tutted softly, stopping to look at you fully. He reached up and took your face in his hands, looking to make sure there wasn’t anything he’d missed. Steve gently turned your head from side to side and hummed softly, “just as I thought.”

“What?” your lips pulled into a pout as you wondered what he could possibly say, “Steve.”

“You’re a horrible liar,” he concluded as you scoffed, reluctantly pulling his hands away from your face. He was getting too close to unnerving you and making you spill your guts out. You weren’t ready to. Ugh. He laughed softly before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you for a hug, “but I love you regardless.”

Part of you was convinced that he knew exactly what was going on in your mind and he was doing this to torture you, “love you too.”

This was going to be a whole situation. You just knew it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Tonight was the night you were finally getting to see the movie you’d been thinking about for months. You weren’t sure if Steve actually wanted to see it, but he was a good sport for being willing to go with you. In true Steve fashion, he’d even paid for the tickets and all the snacks you’d both wanted.

“I’ll get all this stuff if you can grab the popcorn,” he took the stuff without even waiting for an answer. He shot you a quick wink, “thanks.”

You smiled at him, watching as the cashier watched him go as she got your bag of popcorn together. He really did women longing after him left and right; you could understand why. He was good looking and an almost golden retriever of a human being.

“Your boyfriend is very sweet,” the woman had a big smile on her face as you raised an eyebrow in confusion. What boyfriend was she talking about? You looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the theater lobby. The only person you spotted was Steve.

“I don’t…”

“And so handsome too,” her voice sounded almost dreamy as she looked between the two of you. You made a small sound before taking the bag of popcorn that she slid across the counter and slowly made your way back to Steve.

“Everything alright?” he asked softly as the two of you started to walk towards the designated theater, “you look…worried.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you promised with a stiff smile as he opened the door and ushered you in. You were surprised he managed it all considering his arms were full of drinks and snacks and you were only carrying the popcorn, “thanks, Stevie.”

He hummed in content as you picked out a pair of seats away from others near the top. You settled in and made yourself comfortable, finding yourself leaning into Steve’s warm body. He smiled as he put his arm around you, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin.

You’d been wanting to see this movie since you’d heard about it months ago. You’d even picked out the perfect evening to go, when the theater wouldn’t be too crowded and you could enjoy the experience. But…you couldn’t focus on it at all; your mind kept drifting back to Steve. There was something in the way that lady had spoken about him that got to you.

Steve who had always been there for you. Steve that had been your best friend since the day he met you almost five years ago. Steve that would do - and has done - anything for you.

And that’s when it hit you. He wasn’t just your best friend, he was your everything. When you put the pieces together it made sense why people often thought you were together. Now you just had to figure out what to do with your revelation.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hadn’t taken much of the movie in and Steve had noticed. Though it wasn’t hard to pick up on the fact that you were distracted when you weren’t responding to a single comment or question from Steve.

The two of you walked back to his car in relative silence, a small distance that felt far too great between your bodies. Before you could open the passenger side door, Steve leaned against it and softly shook his head, “what’s going on? Are you sure you’re-”

“I’m in love with you.”

Well. That hadn’t entirely gone to plan. Not that you were sure you even had a plan. It just short of…happened.

“What?” he laughed nervously, raking a hand through his hair. He was pretty sure that he’d heard you correctly, but also didn’t want to flatter himself. Not yet anyway.

“I…I think I just realized during the movie,” your entire face felt way too hot, especially with the cool winter breeze that was surrounding you, “and it just…caught me off guard.”

“Off guard?”

“I…I think I’ve always known I just never…realized,” you whispered, turning your face down towards the ground, studying the laces of his sneakers. Steve wasn’t quite sure how you felt about the revelation, “but now I know. I’m sorry.”

“W-what? Why are you sorry?” you looked up at him, his big brown eyes all soft. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, unsure if he was serious or not.

“Because. I think I’ve just ruined our entire friendship,” you threw your hands up in exasperation, “because it’s going to be weird now that I know I’m in love with you and you don’t feel the same way.”

“Whoa,” he reached for your hands and gently wrapped his long, slender fingers around your wrists, “who said I didn’t feel the same?”

“But you don’t…I,” you stopped for a moment and thought about it. Oh. Oh. Steve beamed as he watched you come to yet another huge realization, “you love me?”

“Duh,” he teased in that gentle tone you loved so much, “took you way too long to catch up.”

“How long?” how long had you been blind?

“About five years.”

“But we met…five years ago.”

“I know,” this time he flashed you a shy smile as your expression softened. He’d been there this entire time but you had been so blind to him. Everything you’d been searching for and wanting had always been, quite literally, right in front of your face.

“Steve,” you looked down at your hands, were still safely and warmly developed in his, “Steve.”

He brought one of your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. You warmed at the touch and it took everything in your power not to jump on him then and there and kiss him silly. He must have been thinking the same thing, “I’ve waited a long time to ask you this, but umm, can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” you knew that, deep down, you’d been wanting him to ask for so long, “yes.”

He took your face gently in his hands, brushing his thumb over your cheek as he studied you intently. It was almost ridiculous just how far gone he was for you, “you’re so beautiful.”

Before you could argue with him, and he knew you well enough to know that you would, he leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. It was gentle at first, testing the waters to see what it was like for both of you. You couldn’t help but lean into him, sighing softly at his touch. That seemed to be all he needed in order to deepen the kiss, and you wrapped your arms around him.

Neither of you wanted to break apart and only broke apart very reluctantly when you were desperate for a breath of air. The two of you exchanged shy, but happy smiles before laughing. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to find the right words but there didn’t appear to be quite anything to properly convey everything you were feeling. You touched his face, ghosting your fingers along his freckles. He put his hand on top of yours and squeezed gently, “I know.”

“Oh,” you looked up and a few drops fell on your cheeks, “let’s get out of here.”

“Want me to take you home?”

“I want you to come with me,” you whispered, “I don’t want to say good night just yet.”

“Me neither,” he opened the door for you and helped you inside before gently closing the floor and going around to slide into the driver’s seat, “does this mean I can kiss you all the time?”

“Yeah, Stevie,” you grinned at him, “you can kiss me anytime.”

“Good,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “‘cause I’m going to be doing that a lot.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #st #joe keery

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louloulemons-posts · 11 months

Text

Haircuts and Water Fights

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Summary : You’ve always had long hair, how will your boyfriend, Eddie, react when you cut it off?

Word Count : 1.3k

Warnings : Fluffy, many swears, it gets a bit saucy but no smut, just Eddie and reader being cute, talks of cutting Eddies hair (love his curls lmao)

Authors Note : Purely just rambles and fluffy stuff cause I had a haircut 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d always been someone with hair on the longer side, it had never been cut above your lower back. You decided you wanted a change, a big change. You had graduated highschool and decided you wanted to do it.

Walking out of the hair salon you couldn’t help smiling, your hair was now resting above your shoulders, cut in a similar style to Robins.

Speaking of Robin you decided to go and pay her and Steve a visit. Pushing the door open to FamilyVideo, you waved over to Robin. Her jaw dropped, “Holy shit! It looks great!” she almost shouted.

“Thanks Robs,” you smiled. She came over and played with the short strands slightly, “It really suits you. Dingus come look!” she called to Steve who was in the back.

“Wha- Woah,” he stopped, putting a box of tapes on the counter. “Now I wasn’t expecting that, you’ve had Rapunzel hair forever.”

“Thought it was time for a change,” you shrugged.

“Has Lover boy seen it?” Robin asked.

“He’s working today, I’m seeing him tomorrow. He doesn’t know either.”

“Well if he has an issue, I’ll hurt him. You look great,” Steve smiled, ruffling your new cut.

“Thank you, now do either of you want lunch?” she asked the pair, who nodded eagerly. “Write it down and I’ll go to the dinner and get it.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You had worked at the diner for a few years now, originally as a summer job, but now the shifts had picked up. It wasn’t too busy, as you wondered through. “Hi how can I help- Wow!” Your coworker Millie said. Chuckling slightly, “Good wow?”

“Yes! It looks great.”

“Thanks Mills. Do you think you could put me an order through?” you asked, handing her the piece of paper. “Sure, you sit tight.”

“Can I hear my favourite girl?” Andy the owner of the diner asked, coming to the front. “Hey Andy,” you smiled.

“My oh my look at you! Honey you look stunning!” he said, pinching your cheek.

“Thank you.”

“You got an order for me?” he asked.

“Just sent it to Millie.”

“I’ll get on it then, you staying?”

“Not today, Im going to eat with my friends at Family Video.”

“Sure thing.” You got comfy on a stool and waited for the food. Millie slid you a glass of lemonade, “Thanks Mills, how much do I owe?”

“$12.60”

“That’s way too cheap!”

“Employee discount,” she shrugged, winking at you.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Right I am going to leave you two to do your job,” You said, jumping off the counter, throwing your stuff in the trash. “Thank you for the lunch.”

“No worries, I’ll see you around. Robs I’ll call you later.”

“Course, I’ll speak to you then.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Parking up next to Eddie, you saw him washing the van. You couldn’t help but pause and watch him, topless, hair pulled in a bun, tattoos on show, decorated in chains.

“Hey pretty boy,” you called him. He turned smiling, “Hey gorgeous.” He stilled for a second, taking you in, noticing your hair hanging by your shoulders.

“Holy shit.” Dropping the soapy sponge into the water filled bucket, he wiped his hands off. Jogging over, he held your face in his hands. Playing with the shorter strands, he was in awe.

He brown eyes never leaving you, “You look so fucking pretty baby,” he smiled. “So beautiful.” “Thanks Eds,” you said, cheeks becoming rosy. Feeling shy under his gaze, you tried to hide from it.

“Let me look at you, please,” he said, almost begging, “Please just let me look at my beautiful girl.” He kissed your mouth gently.

You couldn’t help giggling at him, your stomach fluttering.

“Eds.” He hummed, kissing your nose, then your cheeks, then your forehead. “So fucking beautiful baby.”

“It’s just a haircut.”

“And? Who said it was the haircut, I’m talking about you. Not just your face or your body, but your soul, your heart. So beautiful. So perfect.”

“You’re gonna make me cry, stop it.” He laughed, kissing the top of your head, and pulling you into his arms. Wrapping your own around his waist, resting your head on his bare chest, you listened to his heartbeat.

“I love you Eddie.”

“I love you too Sweetheart.”

“Want help washing the van?” you asked, looking up and meeting his chocolate eyes.

“Sure babe, I’ll go grab another sponge for you.”

Heading inside the trailer, you wandered over to the van, waiting for him to return. You tied up as much hair as you could, but most of it fell back down again. Leaving it in a half up half down bun thing, you didn’t really know.

“Here you go Sweetheart.” Eddie appeared again, handing you the sponge and kissing your mouth once more. “Looks cute like that,” he nodded to your hair. “Not sure what to do with it now, forgot about it when I woke up and freaked slightly.”

“It can’t be worse than my mane of hair, you’ll figure it out. Besides hair grows back,” he shrugged. You began washing the side of the van, up to where you could reach.

“Think I should cut mine?”he asked.

“No!” you almost shouted.

“No?”

“Love your curls, don’t get rid of them. They’re so pretty.”

“Fine, fine I won’t.” You smiled at him.

You didn’t notice Eddie wander around the other side of the van. Bopping your head along to the Metallica song playing in his van, you wet your sponge again.

Soon feeling your whole head get wet. Squealing you looked up, “Eddie!” you shouted as he cackled, hose in hand. “Sorry baby, I just couldn’t resist.” He continued laughing.

Running towards him you squeezed the water out of the sponge above his head. He let out his own shout. “You little shit!” he laughed, as you ran away.

“You started it!” Eddie sprayed the hose in your direction again, wetting your t-shirt and shorts, making you scream again. Running back to the water, you dipped the sponge again.

“Don’t you dare!” he warned. Giggling, you ran back in his direction, smacking the sponge into his chest. “Baby!” he became distracted, picking up the wet object. Grabbing the hose from him he paused, “Shit.”

“You’re in for it now Munson!” Turning the water pressure to the max you soaked the boy.

“Come here you little terror!” he shouted running towards you, fighting to get the hose out of your hand.

“No, you started it!” you laughed.

“And I’ll finish it!” he countered. Eddie grabbed you by the waist and lifted your feet off the ground. “Put me down!” you screamed.

“No! Never! I’ve got you now babe.”

Eddie pried the hose from your hand and turned it off. “You’re a little shit!” he cackled.

“Says you,” still wiggling in his grip. Throwing you over his shoulder he took you inside the trailer.

“Eddie!” you hit his back lightly, “Put me down!”

“As you wish,” he said, throwing you into his bed, making you bounce slightly. Crawling over you, he grinned at your smiling face.

Leaning down your lips met one anothers, pulling him closer by his soggy curls, you moaned as he kissed you deeper. He detached one of your hands from them and linked his fingers with your own, grinding down on your slightly.

“Fuck,” you moaned into his mouth. He made the same movement, deeper this time, making your legs fall apart. He lay between them, bare chest resting on your clothed one. “So fucking beautiful,” he said as he pulled away, playing with your short locks once more.

“What time is Wayne getting home?” you asked, slightly breathless. “He said 5:30 why?”

Flipping him over, you sat on his hips. “Because,” you started, leaning down and ghosting your lips over his.

Pulling back, he chased your kiss. “Because?” he whined. You pecked his lips, and jumped off. “We have a van to clean and I don’t think he’ll appreciate the mess,” you said, walking out of his room. Leaving him on the bed.

“You’re a little shit!” he shouted after you.

“It’s what you get for spraying me with the hose Munson.” He couldn’t help but laugh at that.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things #joesph quinn #eddie x y/n #eddie x reader #oneshot #fluff #louloulemons

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wynnyfryd · 6 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 15

part 1 | part 14 | ao3

“Please please please please pleeeeease,” Dustin whines, tugging hard on the hem of Steve’s shirt.

“Dude get off me.” He slips the last of the leftover containers into the fridge, slams the door shut, and turns to glare at Dustin, who oh-so-conveniently had to step out after dinner to ‘walkie Lucas about a homework question’ and left Steve and Eddie to do the washing up.

In the absence of a Henderson buffer, the air between them had pretty immediately gone stale. Hesistant and charged, overly formal; fucking weird. Eddie moves like a weirdo, sways his hips out of the way of counter corners instead of walking a straight path, like some swaggering drunken pirate, and he spent the last ten minutes awkwardly traipsing around the perimeters of the kitchen as if Steve were a landmine he might set off at any time.

So yeah.

Steve’s feeling a little ungracious at the moment. “Seriously, what is so important that you can’t just show it to us tomorrow?”

“Ummm, scientific discovery? Wonder at the natural world around us?? Where’s your sense of adventure, Steve?”

“The last time I followed my sense of adventure out to your cellar I almost got—” His eyes cut sharply to Eddie, who’s doing a terrible job of pretending not to eavesdrop. Steve scrambles for a way to end his sentence that isn’t eaten by a creature with a razor flower for a face. “—uh, mauled.”

“Mauled?” Eddie asks, eyes bugging out. “Henderson, I’m not following you into the woods to get to turned into some feral thing’s chew toy, man.”

“It was fine,” Dustin insists, covertly kicking Steve in the shin.

Steve thinks of his NDAs and plays along. “Y-yeah. Totally fine. It was just, like, a rabid raccoon or something.”

“That… does not sound fine.”

“It’s cool,” Steve tries to reassure him (no idea why, really; that cellar’s nightmare fuel.) He throws a dish towel over his shoulder, nods his head decisively. “I’ll bring my nail bat with us.”

“You’ll fucking bring your what?”

—

Steve drags his nail bat through the leaves on the narrow trail, the wood thudding along behind him as they make their way to the cellar, a detached storm shelter at the far edge of the lot. It’s dark out here. And cold. His breath hangs in a puff of wet fog when he mutters, “Seriously, Dustin, this better be Noble Prize worthy stuff.”

“It’s Nobel,” Eddie says.

“Huh?”

“The, uh- the prize? It’s No-bel.”

“….Well, that’s stupid.”

“Why would it be Noble?” Eddie snorts, but his eyes are curious and kind.

“Because— because you have to be Noble to earn it? I don’t know!” Eddie laughs like he finds the answer cute. Steve doubles down. “That makes perfect sense, and you know it. A Noble Prize for a Noble Effort. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Dustin grunts as he unlocks the cellar doors. “Now come on.”

—

The cellar's just as creepy as Steve remembers: low ceiling, dusty cement blocks, a single, sad lightbulb dangling on a string. He eyes the dark corner on the far side of the squat room, bricked up now but it wasn't before; there were tunnels under here, once, vast networks like blood vessels to the beating heart of a monster Steve still can't fully comprehend. He grips the bat a little tighter.

"—Shit," Dustin says suddenly, cutting himself off mid-ramble about how cool his latest science project is, how it puts Cerebro to shame. "I forgot the remote." "You want me to go get it?" Steve offers. "No!" Dustin says it in a rush, then stammers, "No, that's okay. You won't know what to look for." He seems nervous. Jittery. Maybe the cellar creeps him out, too. "Be right back, just wait here."

"Grreeeat," Eddie replies as Dustin jogs back up the stairs, cupping his hands around his mouth to call sarcastically after him, "We'll just be loitering in your murder basement, then; take your time!"

With Dustin gone, there’s nothing to do but stand there metaphorically twiddling their thumbs. Steve’s idly swinging his bat in a wide sweep around his calves, and Eddie’s staring at the ground, scuffing the toe of his shoe into a streak of dirt, arms crossed over his chest, head bowed. He’s humming something that Steve can't quite make out, but it doesn't sound like the stuff he usually blasts from his van. It's softer. Easy. Almost pop.

“Hey, wait a sec...” Steve holds up a finger, turning his good ear toward the stairs. The leafy crunch of footsteps isn’t getting any quieter, and now it sounds like there are two pairs, getting louder; circling back. “You hear that?”

Eddie nods. Looks serious and spooked. Steve raises his bat, a sudden spike of fear; he creeps over to the stairs. “Hey,” he calls to the darkness. The rustling noise picks up, a swish of movement through the brush, and then the crrrrroak of something metal. Something heavy, groaning on its—

Hinges. Hinges. Son of a bitch, the cellar doors. “Hey!” he shouts, breaking into a run. “HEY—!”

BOOMMMM.

The doors slam shut with a heavy crash and the grating clink of more metal scraping metal. Steve bolts up the stairs, shoves with all his strength against the slanted doors above him. The doors don’t budge. “What the fuck?” Eddie shouts from the bottom of the stairs.

Steve pounds against the doors. “HENDERSON?”

Eddie comes up to join him, using his forearms like battering rams to try to bash the doors open. His voice cracks when he hollers, “Henderson, for real, man! I-if this is some kinda- some kinda sick fucking joke it isn’t funny!!”

“It’s for your own good!!” a voice that isn’t Dustin yells through the gap in the doors, and Eddie squawks, “MIKE?”

Mike?? MIKE?? Oh, that goddamned ungrateful, conniving little—

“We just wanted you two to talk to each other!” Mike says.

Dustin adds, “For real this time."

“Yeah, for real this time!”

Steve punches the doors, and Eddie bares his teeth like he can scorch a hole through the metal with the heat of his glare alone. “Wheeler, you are SO dead!!”

“So fucking dead!!!” Steve agrees.

---

part 16

tag list below the cut, comment if you want to be added tomorrow (or dm me if you want to be removed)

@acedorerryn @ahsokatanoss @annabanannabeth @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awolfstudio @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @burymestanding @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cr0w-culture @cuips-not-cute @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @evillittleguy @fandomfix8 @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @heartsong18 @hellion-child @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @messrs-weasley @nburkhardt @noodle-shenaniganery @novelnovella @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #st fic #my writing #my fic

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 5 months

Text

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 43

Part 1 Part 42

Will’s loitering around the school, Dustin, Will, and Lucas plastered to his sides like burrs as he waits for Jonathan to get out of school and pick him up. The hallways are almost empty – everyone else allowed to take buses, and ride bike, and walk home; Will left the odd one out.

Even his friends who are dawdling by his side as they walk the empty parking lot have bikes chained up at the front of the school. They’re only still here because Will’s not allowed to be left alone. By anyone.

The air is crisp, biting into his cheeks, but it’s too crisp to be the other side. Snow is on the horizon, not ash. He can smell it.

Mike’s talking about El in a hushed voice, moaning about Hopper blocking all access like the protective Father he isn’t. Will wishes his problems felt as small as Mike’s are,, and promptly feels bad about the thought.

It’s just, winter is in the air, and the sky is getting darker earlier each day. In a few more weeks, Will’s not sure he’ll even be able to get home after school without the specter of the Demogorgon hunting him from the shadows between each tree.

He wishes he didn’t live so close to the woods.

He wishes he could live in Steve and Eddie’s pockets like they live in each other’s. He only feels covered when he’s looking at Steve Harrington’s broad back.

Jonathan’s car pulls into the empty parking lot, and Dustin, Lucas, and Mike run off with shouts of goodbye. Only Dustin looks back, waits for Will to shuffle into the passenger seat before waving and peddling quickly to catch up.

Jonathan’s heat is up high enough to hurt. Will sinks into it, puts his frozen hands up to the vents to dethaw.

“How was school?” Jonathan asks, The Doors playing near silently from his crackly radio.

“It was okay,” Will says, thinking of Zombie Boy shouted out at him like a slur in the hallways. Thinking about how sometimes he’ll walk up to his friend’s and be greeted by abrupt, strained silences, like a few days in the Upside-Down has made him a freaks among the freaks.

Jonathan hums, but doesn’t press. WIll loves him for it. As they drive toward home, the long-familiar fishhook feelings hooks and yanks his stomach. In a moving car, it’s almost a queasy thing, like he always imagined being on a sailboat would feel. He’s being pulled in two directions and his organs are sloshing around with it.

“Can we go see Steve and Eddie?” Will asks quietly.

Jonathan’s hands clench hard, shitty steering wheel vinyl creaking. He sighs, like a dog when you won’t share a piece of your dinner no matter how hard it begs. He takes a u-turn without a word, heading toward Forest Hills, knowing just like Will does that if they’re not already there, that’s where Steve and Eddie will end up soon.

Will knows they’re not there yet before Jonathan parks in the vacant spot where Eddie’s van usually presides. He puts it in park, doesn’t take the key out of the ignition, turns the heater down just a hair.

“I just don’t get it,” Jonathan says, looking at the Munson’s closed front door, not looking Will’s way at all.

“Get what?” Will asks, even though he knows.

Jonathan sighs that same sigh. “Just–” he runs a hand through his discheveled hair until it partially covers his eyes, “you spend a few days with them and now it’s like they’re all you think about.”

Will looks down at his lap, can’t meet Jonathan’s eyes even when he feels his brother turn to look at him. Left unsaid in the space between them is that Jonathan doesn’t get them, doesn’t get him anymore, when they’re all each other has had for years.

“You weren’t there,” Will says. He knows it’ll hurt even before Jonathan breaths in like he’s been shot.

The heater and radio static break up the silence. Will can still feel it.

“Can you–” Jonathan srarts. Will sees, out of the corner of his eyes as Jonathan reaches out toward him before dropping it. “Can you try to explain?” Will looks down at his dirty sneakers, thinking. He doesn’t have the words. But hten Jonathan says, “please?” all quiet and desperate and Will turns.

He pulls his feet up onto the seat, arms wrapped around his knees, turning his body to face Jonathan as Jonathan does the same. Jonathan’s knee bangs on the bottom of the steering wheel, but he gets it all the way up to mirror Will’s posture, both their shoulders hunched, both of their arms around their knees.

“I was really scared,” WIll says, for the first time admitting something that was obvious. “And then they saved me.”

Jonathan nods, meeting his eyes. “And that’s it?”

Will shakes his head, looks down at the stick shift separating them. “No,” he says, fidgeting his fingers anxiously. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Jonathan reaches across the car, covering Will’s knee with his big palm and squeezing. “There’s nothing wrong with you.” He doesn’t understand, Will can tell.

“No,” he says, shaking his head, eyes prickling. The fishline is slackening now. He can feel it. They’re on their way. “This isn’t like that.”

“Like?”

“Like, a stupid teenager thing,” Will says. How does he say this isn’t about puberty, or growing up, or a fight with his friends, or even the isolation of the school halls where everyone treats him like he’s oil and everyone else is water.

“Okay,” Jonathan says in that calm, quiet way that always calms WIll down. “What is it then?”

Will looks back down at the stick shift, Jonathan’s foot now propped up against it after he’d stretched it out. His sneakers are too small – Will can see his pinky toe pushing up against the side.

“Like, there’s something in me,” Will says. “And it’s in them too.” Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but Will can feel his eyes on him. “I can feel them, right now.” He whispers it out, a secret in this car confessional of two.

“Feel them, how?”

“It’s, itchy? When they’re too far.” WIll says, struggling to find words he’s not sure exist. “And I can tell they’re turning into the trailer park right now.” He touches the hollow just below his ribs, looks up into Jonathan’s eyes. “Right here.”

Jonathan’s brows are furrowed, eyes intense, just as Eddie’s van comes peeling into view, parking haphazardly in front of Eddie’s trailer. Jonathan’s eyes go wide. He hadn’t gotten it until this moment. Will can see it hit him in the dilation of his pupils. “Like El?” he asks, quiet as Eddie tumbles out of the driver’s seat and rushes over to open the passenger side door for Steve like a goofy knight.

“I don’t know.”

Jonathan glances over just in time to watch a wan-faced Steve take Eddie’s hand to hoist himself out of the van. “Do they?”

Part 44

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b

#steddie upsidedown au #my fic #steddie fic

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rebelfell · 2 months

Text

Yeah, they won't leave my brain... 18+, MDNI

older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson

cont’d from here

So it turns out he's not the gardener.

He is, technically, in the sense that he's your nephew's best friend who mows the lawn and does other yard work during the summer in exchange for extra cash and pool access.

Fine. Whatever. Good to know.

Far more importantly—he's an asshole.

Because he easily could have told you who he was when you were running him off like a stray dog. And he does, eventually, admit to that and apologize…later, when he comes into the kitchen and you two exchange a few terse words, hissed under your breath so Steve won't overhear. Until you finally mellow into a civil, albeit begrudging, tolerance. He's just a kid, after all.

Except he doesn't seem like a kid, though, when you’re stretched up on your tip-toes trying to get down a mixing bowl. And before you’ve asked, or before you tell him not to bother, he's at your side. He slots into place behind you, his hips just shy of grinding into your ass as he brings the bowl down and holds it in front of you, his arms circling your body as he waits for you to take hold.

Of the bowl, that is.

A shiver actually runs up your spine you as you cup the bottom, hands resting under his, your thumbs grazing his pinkies, static buzzing. And when he steps away, you can see how his reach made the hem of his shirt ride up to reveal the deep cut of a v-muscle and a faint patch of hair that swirls just below his navel and trails down underneath the band of his boxers.

And your neck nearly snaps from the force with which you jerk your head up when you realize way too late that you're basically staring directly at his crotch. And you're so, so sure you're going to find him making that shit-eating grin of his when you look up. But you don't. Because he hasn't even noticed. Because he is (just as blatantly, if not moreso) looking down your shirt.

His eyes and yours meet on pure instinct, and you're closer to him than you've ever been before, trapped staring into his eyes that feel as dark and vast as space. As though they could swallow you up and you would just drift off in them forever.

No. No. Absolutely not.

You clear your throat and turn away, carrying the bowl to the stove. "Dinner in twenty," you tell him.

Flat. Passive. No emotion. Not so much as a waver in your voice to be up for misinterpretation. And he just stands there staring at you, studying your back, the imperceptible rise and fall of your shoulders. Searching, wondering...

Did you feel that too?

But you keep your head down. You keep your eyes glued to the salad you're making. You keep your breathing even, feeling like it’s performance art, until you hear the steady tink of the chain on his wallet with every step he takes out of the kitchen to relay your message to Steve.

Stupid, you call yourself. Stupid, silly, absurd—

There’s no end to the disparaging words that fill your head. Because you've done a lot of dumb things in your life (too many to even count) but there's no way you're adding this to that list.

It doesn't matter if he's twenty-four. It doesn’t matter if he’s the one who keeps showing up and smiling at you and looking at you like that. And it doesn’t matter if you’re separated and that your ring has been off for so long now there’s not even an impression of it on your skin anymore.

And aside from all that, this is all just a joke anyway. Isn’t it? Because why else would he be talking like to you like he did or smiling at you like he did if it wasn’t for a gag?

Except...suddenly, he's just hanging around the house all the time.

He starts showing up in the mornings asking for Steve, even though he knows Steve sleeps in until at least ten—eleven or noon if he had a date the night before. No problem, he smirks. I’ll wait.

And he breezes through the door, walking past you like he owns the place and parking himself at the kitchen table while you make your breakfast. And he just...stares at you. Until his staring turns to talk. It’s mostly innocent, occasionally toeing the line into impropriety. But you’re quick to correct the course if it does.

You talk about music because you’ve always got some playing. And that leads in to talk about his band, and him asking if you’ve ever been to the Hideout. Which makes you laugh, because you’ve probably been thrown out of the Hideout more times than he’s even been in it.

But he doesn’t need to know all that.

And he sleeps over an awful lot. Steve says it’s because his uncle works nights and Eddie would never admit this, but he gets lonely. Plus, they’ve got nothing but spare rooms, so who does it hurt?But that doesn’t explain why he feels the need to strut around the house in nothing but a pair of his sweatpants slung low on his narrow hips, or stand in the kitchen drinking milk from the carton with such fervor it dribbles down his tattooed chest.

And when you clear your throat behind him, your foot tapping on the tiled floor as your eyes burn a hole in the side of his face, he just lazily turns his head and offers it to you with a cheeky smile.

And it just keeps going on like that for weeks. You keep thinking he has to get bored soon, he has to be ready to move on, he has to be getting tired of acting like he's actually…

You can't even finish that thought.

It's one that’s too ludicrous to entertain, the idea someone like him would actually waste a moment of his summer on you. And yet…he’s still there.

He’s there in the mornings when you two have breakfast and listen to records. And he’s there in the afternoons when he mows the lawn or takes a dip in the pool, always winking at you and asking if you wanna cool off. And he’s there after dinner in the evening, sitting right next to you on the couch as you, he and Steve watch a movie.

And one time, he’s there in the middle of the night. When you can’t sleep and you slip outside to get some air only to find him sitting with his feet propped up on the patio table and a joint between his lips that he’s just lit.

And you do probably the last thing either of you expect when you pull out the chair next to him and hold our your fingers in a silent request.

He passes it to you, a ribbon of smoke curling in the air as it leaves his lips. You both puff on it a few times, listening to the crickets and the chh chh chh of neighboring sprinklers going off.

You talk the way you always do, the way that now feels almost natural. You ask him about Hawkins High, and lament about how little has changed when he tells you which teachers were still kicking around when he graduated.

“What were you like back then?” he asks you, sounding somehow like he really, truly wants to know. Like he cares.

"I was a lot like you, actually," you tell him with a wry and knowing smile as you bring the joint to your lips. "A little stubborn, a little headstrong...a little bit of a shit head."

Eddie chuckles darkly as he leans in.

He's close now. Close enough you can smell the pack of Camels in his pocket and the little spritz of cologne he’s wearing that dances in your nose. Close enough you can hear the wet sound his lips make as he pulls the bottom one behind his teeth before he answers you with a wicked grin.

“Trust me, sweetheart…there's nothing shitty about my head.”

The words make your breath catch. His eyes shine and even in the darkness there’s no way to mistake what he’s thinking about. You shake your head, trying to clear the fog that filled it. And you mutter to yourself as you stub out the joint and place it in the ashtray, avoiding his gaze.

“I should get to bed.”

You stand abruptly, unsteady on legs that shake. And you nearly stumble until Eddie jumps to his feet and catches you, cradling you against him. His nose touches yours, slippery with sweat from the balmy summer air. His breath hits your lips, hot and heavy as you pant into one another.

His eyes start to flutter closed…

“Eddie, you’ve got to stop,” you gasp, no longer in control of your heart rate. “I—we can’t do this.”

He blinks back at you, his doe eyes as big as the full moon overhead. And you half expect him to laugh in your face: Do what? you imagine him cackling. You think I really want some crypt-keeper who can’t even keep her marriage together? You think I would want you?

Except he doesn’t say anything of the sort. He just shakes his head, his face filled with concern, the tiniest little pinch in his brow appearing as he whispers, softer than the crickets.

“Why not?”

And there’s no answer you can give him.

All you can do is slip out of his arms, avoiding his gaze as you retreat, heading back to your room to try and sleep—practically impossible with his words spinning in your head and your skin burning everywhere he touched you.

For almost a week after, you don’t see him.

A few times, you catch sight of his van sitting in the driveway as Steve runs out the door, calling out to you that he’s headed to the lake or the movies or the mall. But that’s it.

Good, you tell yourself. This is what you wanted. This is the best way to stay out of trouble. This is how you should have handled it from the start.

When he does return, it’s only as moral support for Steve when he comes to ask you for a favor. Because it’s gonna be his birthday soon and he wants to throw a party. And he swears, swears, swears it won’t get out of control. So you think, avoiding Eddie’s gaze as much as he’s avoiding yours as he hovers beside his friend, his hands behind his back as he cranes his neck to look anywhere but at you. Finally, you nod.

“Everyone has a DD. No one underage. Nobody comes upstairs and if anyone vomits you two—”You motion at him and Eddie, “clean it up.”

Steve and you shake on it. Done and done.

The night of the party, you spend the evening upstairs as promised. Steve keeps his word and only a select group of friends are invited. Enough to make it a good turnout, but not so many that it’s a rager. They keep the music at a moderate level and the loudest thing you hear up in your room is Steve and his best friend Robin, who cheer every time they win a round of pong.

Still, you pass the time as best you can and your curiosity only gets the better of you once. Once, you stand at your window that overlooks the backyard. Once, you allow yourself to peek through the blinds and scan the party.

Once and only once, do you look for Eddie.

You find him at the fire pit, talking to a girl who’s sidled up next to him, pushing her perky tits in his face. She’s pretty in that way all girls his age are—with everything on them pointing up and nothing that sags. No bags under their eyes or extra flab on their arms. No silver slivers in their hair.

He seems distant as he talks to her, barely taking his eyes off the flames that flicker before him. She drapes a lithe arm across his shoulder and leans in close to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever it is she says, Eddie seems un-phased. Or maybe that’s just you trying to make yourself feel better with your gut twisted into knots. You flee from the window, mad at yourself for even looking, and bury yourself back in your book.

Then, no more than ten minutes later, a soft creak of footsteps on the stairs has you tossing it to the side and climbing out of bed.

"Upstairs is off limits—"

The hallway is dark except for the light that comes from your room as you crack open your bedroom door. The gash of amber casts directly across Eddie's face as he pauses and drops his hand that was already raised to knock.

"Hey," he says.

And you never knew three letters could sound so loaded. You pull your robe closed a little tighter.

"What's the matter? Is something wrong?"

His head bobs, all non-committal as he takes a careful step nearer. Missed you, he wants to say.

"Just...got bored,” he says instead. You snort.

"You didn't look all that bored to me."

That smirk creeps across his lips at that and you can practically see how his ego inflates, his chest puffing up with pride, eyes sparking with intrigue.

"You checking up on me?"

He asks and the smirk turns into a full-on grin, one that flashes his teeth, bared like an animal’s. Which one of you is the predator again?

"No," you bite back, the word sharp and barbed. Also a lie. "I was just making sure you guys aren't completely wrecking my sister's house."

"You sure?" he asks lowly, taking another step closer. "You don't wish you were down there with me? Keeping me in line?”

He leans against the wall, tilting his head towards you. You can smell the fire pit on him. It’s stronger and more potent than anything else. The beer on his breath. His cologne. The body spray of that girl who was hanging all over him.

"Positive," you say, forcing yourself to control your trembling and yet unable to stop the audible gulp that leaves your throat.

“Ohhh,” Eddie smiles. “So you just wanted me up here with you, then? Is that it?”

You wish it wasn't so easy for him to draw you in. You wish you had enough self-control to send him away. You wish you weren’t wondering what his lips taste like or what you’d actually do if he leaned in to kiss you right now…

And like he can read your mind, he’s moving in. His lips catch the corner of your mouth like he’s daring you to turn your chin the mere millimeters required to really kiss him. There’s stubble on his jaw, too short for you to see, but you can feel how it rasps against your cheek.

Your hand comes up and it lands in the center of his chest, but you're not stopping him or pushing him away. If anything, you're leaning on it as your body is swaying towards him.

"You shouldn't be up here," you groan softly, the words meant to remind yourself as much as him. "You should go back downstairs."

His hair rustles as he shakes his head. "No," he says firmly. "I don't give a shit about anybody downstairs. I wanna be right here."

The calloused pads of his fingers tug at the silk tie of your robe. He pulls it open and you let it hang, making no attempt to hide your sleep clothes.

He sinks to his knees right there in the hallway, his gaze never leaving yours as his mouth meets your breast. His lips surround your nipple, his wet tongue swirling and sliding over the stiffening bud until his spit has soaked through the thin material of your camisole. The very same one you had on the first day you saw him.

"Please," he says over and over, with his eyes rounded and his voice hushed, "Please, please, please." And your thoughts are just an echo of his words, almost begging with yourself the same way he’s begging with you.

Please give in. Please let him hold you...touch you...taste you. Please have him show you how you deserve to be pleased.

Fuck it.

His curls twisted in your grasp, you drag him to his feet and bring his lips to yours to feast on his mouth. Both of you moaning, pawing at the other as you stumble backwards, bringing him with you into the bedroom—finally taking what you want.

Because if you’re going to hell, it might as well be in first class.

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buckets-and-trees · 7 months

Text

Devour: ACID

Fandom: MCU Collection: Devour Title: ACID Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!Bucky x f!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: A month since SALT and three weeks since FAT, your situation with the mob boss who bought your restaurant is still evolving in unexpected ways - including an unexpected episode after work tonight.

Content Warnings: explicit smut, oral: female receiving, analingus: female receiving, vaginal penetration/fucking, some light drinking, mob boss Bucky is kind of dom

Logistical Notes: I had planned for this to punch the ticket for week 10 of my Hot Bucky Summer 2023 collection for the prompt "Long day at work?" and so this is late for the @buckybarnesevents event itself, but I'm a completionist and am marking it off on my personal list for my own satisfaction. Also ticking off the U3: "Kink: Concubine" square of my Bucky Barnes Bingo, Round Five card for @buckybarnesbingo.

Additional Notes: @mlibbydp and @goldylions were so benevolent in doing some beta work on this so HUGE AMOUNTS OF LOVE TO THEM for what they both contributed to the piece and to me personally. This chapter is much longer than the previous two and just as part two evolved their relationship, part three makes some more significant moves and ... I needed the notes on making sure this still felt like Devour. Also... @biteofcherry you might see something interesting in here that's definitely included because of a throwaway comment you made earlier this summer.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

When you walked out into the garage, there was a black luxury SUV idling near the exit with Sam Wilson leaned up against it. Seeing you, he slipped his phone into his pocket and pushed off the side of the vehicle.

“Hey, Chef,” he greeted you with a grin.

“Really?” you sighed. “Now?”

He shrugged. “Please?”

“And is that you asking nicely, or him?”

“You know I just do what he says.”

You huffed. “You don’t always do what he says, but he knows you’re the most charming one and I wouldn’t refuse you.”

Sam laughed as he opened the door to the backseat. “Don’t let the charm fool you, honey, if you said no, I’d throw you in the back regardless, it would just be less fun for you.”

You knew that, too, which is why you simply got in without a fuss. Bucky, Sam, the rest of his men? They were all mobsters running mob business, dangerous beneath the surface.

As the door closed behind you, you looked to the front to see who was driving, then clucked your tongue. “He sent both of you?”

Steve smirked. “Buckle up. And of course he sent us. You don’t think he trusts just anyone with his girl, do you?”

Oh. You bit your bottom lip and looked away and out the window, a small warmth stirring in your belly. As inconveniently annoying as this ordeal seemed to you in this moment, there was that piece. Being his. You were starting to feel it.

You had told Bucky that second night in the restaurant that you needed more than gifts and sex.

He had taken your word seriously.

There had been walks in the park, an auction, brunch on his yacht, a gallery opening, a rooftop wine tasting, even a dinner party at Sam’s place where he ended up proposing to his girl. You had enjoyed all of them, but except for the night at Sam’s, the time with Bucky had been last minute – sometimes there was a text, but most times it was him showing up or – like tonight – someone sent to fetch you without notice. He seemed all too aware of your schedule, so none of these instances were logistically inconvenient, but with it happening once more again tonight, you couldn’t help but notice this pattern of behavior was clearly becoming a habit – being summoned. In general, you didn’t mind, you saw that he was demonstrating that he wanted to spend time with you, but if you were his girl, you didn’t want to be treated like one of the droves of people who were at his beck and call and certainly not like a concubine kept solely for his whims.

The SUV slowed and pulled up to the curb of an incredibly unremarkable building that spoke to money for how unremarkable it was – the kind of money that demanded magnificence but privacy. You’d never stepped in a place of residence quite like this before – you hadn’t even stepped out of the car yet, but even in the darkness you already knew.

Both men slipped out of the front seat. Sam opened your door and offered his hand to pull you to the sidewalk. “No frowns needed tonight,” he said.

“Says you.” You didn’t realize you were frowning.

Sam grinned, then headed around to take the driver’s seat just as Steve appeared at your side.

“I’ll walk you up,” Steve gestured for you to enter the building with him.

“This is his place?”

“One of them,” Steve responded.

You took a deep breath and followed him in.

Sharp looking doormen, green marble floors, golden elevators.

Chatting with Steve was always easy, and it was no different on the fifteen-floor ride up to the penthouse at the top of the building. However, you did feel a touch of nerves as this was your first time at Bucky’s place. You weren’t quite sure what to expect but were keen to learn more about this enigma of a man by seeing where he lived.

And there he was, ready to meet you as the doors of the elevator opened, hands in his pockets, tired smile on his face, but his blue eyes dancing with excitement, and that stirred the storm of butterflies immediately in your stomach. He reached out a hand to pull you into him.

“Thanks, Steve,” he said, though he didn’t take his eyes off you.

“Sure thing, Buck.”

Once the elevator closed, Bucky brushed his fingers over your cheek, cradled your head in his hand to tilt your jaw up, and then his lips were on yours, your back pressed up against the wall. Within moments you were breathless.

In the intervening weeks since seeing him at the restaurant he’d also kept his physical contact minimal, only a few light touches, an arm around you when it seemed natural for the occasion, except for two lingering kisses. One of those instances was after a walk in the park when he’d kissed you full on in the afternoon daylight, then deposited you into the car he’d arranged to take you directly to work, where his heated kiss had distracted you throughout your shift. The second was three nights ago, the last time you saw him, and that had been only a ghosting of his lips against your ear, along your jaw, and then a soft kiss pressed to your mouth before withdrawing and leaving you at your door, but it had gotten your whole body humming for him and haunted you as you went to sleep and in your dreams.

This, after so long, so much wanting, was like a wave crashing over you. You moaned softly, you let him pull you in, melting against him, and you nearly let him sweep you away, but then you pressed insistently against his chest.

“James.”

“Yes?” he did move back, but only enough to look into your face fully.

“What is this?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“So, you just summon me?”

You knew he didn’t miss the tenor of agitation in your tone because he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the smirk before he pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the juncture at your shoulder. “I was hungry for you,” he said, completely undeterred. And as his lips moved solely along your throat, your core begged you to forget the conversation you were attempting to have.

“Why?” you barely managed to ask.

“You know why.”

“Do I?”

Bucky pulled back again, frowning this time, but you put your hand on his face to soften his reaction. “Steve and Sam said I’m your girl, but…”

“I told you you were mine. Surely over the past few weeks, you can’t doubt that.” His stare into your eyes was steady, straight.

You didn’t doubt him.

You did need to hear those words said just that way though. You didn’t know how much you had needed to hear them.

It gave you the surety to say what you needed to say to him. “I’m not just another girl. No more summoning me, Barnes. I’m not one of your people, I’m not your plaything.” With your hand now resting on his chest, you let your fingers brush soft strokes up and down over his heart. “If you want me, want all of me.”

He hadn’t interrupted your statement. He’d let you finish without argument. You could see the way his face changed, and the shift of the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch. He drew you in closer, encircling his arms around your waist. “Oh, I want everything, don’t doubt that.” He brushed his lips softly on your forehead. “I was only waiting for you to want this.”

Your chest tightened at those words, but the next moment you couldn’t think because then he kissed you again.

And that kiss, though brief, was thick with heat, and when he pulled back he said, “I see your point about the summoning. Just know that I was eager to have you around at any opportunity.”

You smiled because he smiled. “I can forgive you for that – I guess I can be a bit irresistible,” you teased. Somehow his confidence made you feel steady enough with him to be direct, to be flirtatious, to simply be around him.

He brought a hand to your cheek again. “I’ll mend my ways, but let’s be honest… a little bit of you likes it – the spontaneity of it.” His smile turned to a truly wolfish grin.

You sighed but rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe a little.”

He stepped away, taking your hand. “Come. You can have a tour later.”

Rather than asking where you were going, you simply let him lead you through the grand apartment. You didn’t take in every detail, but it was big without being too big. Rich and luxurious without being cold or opulent. There were sleek lines, but also elements of warm and comfort folded into the power that was also clearly on display. But your focus was on the way he held your hand and led you through his domain. He had no question that you would follow.

Were you so easily his?

No.

Your mind wasn’t made up.

You weren’t all in, but you weren’t reeling to run away.

He stopped in front of a mahogany door and looked over his shoulder at you. You arched your brow.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

“Alright.” And you did.

He opened it, and you let him lead you inside, through a room, clearly walking you past some furniture. You heard the sound of a fire in a fireplace, then you heard another door opening, and he ushered you in front of him and through that door. “Take your time,” he said softly, lips against your ear. “I’ll be waiting.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, and then he was gone, shutting the door behind you.

You opened your eyes to the sight of a large jade green-tiled shower enclosed with glass and four gleaming gold showerheads. Turning around, you couldn’t help a soft giggle falling from your lips. The lavish bathroom was sheer perfection. Showering after your shifts at the restaurant was ritual for you. You toed off your shoes and began peeling off your clothes. Off to the side of the palatial shower, there was a gorgeous clawfoot tub, and next to that a plush navy settee with what looked like some silky things set out for you. After inspecting the knobs and heads of the shower, you got them running, adjusting them to the perfect water temperature easily, and stepped under the streams, a sigh falling immediately from your lips.

One of the shelves was stocked with some of the skin and haircare products you used, some you hadn’t but certainly knew the name and reputation of (but hadn’t indulged in for yourself), and the other shelf was stocked with men’s products. It reminded you of the significance of where you were – in his home – and the element of intimacy it evoked, being naked where he had been and would frequently be again. Where he likely would be naked with you. You bit your lip. You pulled down the bottle of his shower gel, popped the top open, and inhaled. You hated how much you already loved that smell.

No, you didn’t.

You inhaled deeply again, then set it back on the shelf.

After that, you set to reveling in the flow of the water over your body, and got to washing, unsure of the time, only focused on the smooth feel of the soap and textures over your skin, feeling more and more relaxed, and ultimately refreshed and clean.

Once you had shut off all four showerheads, you reached for towels more plush than any you had ever used in your life and dried yourself off before wrapping the large bath sheet around your torso. You padded over to the settee to discover a short black silk robe waiting for you.

And nothing else.

You shook your head but grinned. “Audacious bastard,” you whispered.

But you didn’t bother with anything else.

At the vanity there were more hair, face, and body care products and tools clearly stocked for you – again some familiar and some you’d only dreamed of, none of this really a shock given your experience with this man. You weren’t certain how long you’d taken in the shower, having lost track of time, but here you suddenly did find yourself trying to take more time, a small fluttering of nerves in your stomach, because though he'd had his way with you in the kitchen of the restaurant and discreetly pulled an orgasm from you at the table in the dining room, this would be different.

Tonight, your body would be his, no restrictions. There was no worry for privacy, no limited amount of time.

There were also emotions now.

You had set the terms – that you needed to be more than a body to him – and he’d met them, courting the rest of you these past weeks, and putting the physical on the back burner.

He had made his intentions for tonight expressly clear.

And you wanted him, too.

But you were still nervous.

When you put your hand on the doorknob, you closed your eyes for a moment, taking one deep breath to steady yourself. Then you stepped out and into the next room, which – to no surprise – was a grand and spacious bedroom. Bucky was sitting on a couch in front of the fireplace you’d heard earlier, but immediately set a book aside and stood when he heard you. You were happy – and feeling a little more heat in your core – to see he was out of his earlier clothes and down to only a pair of silk pajama bottoms.

“How was your shower?” he asked, standing up and beckoning you over.

“The shower was glorious. You’re a bit wicked to only leave me a robe, though, aren’t you?”

He placed a kiss to your forehead and motioned to get comfortable on the couch while he moved over to a small bar cart nearby to get you a drink. He shot a smug over his shoulder. “I plan to get lucky.”

You snorted. “You brought me here late at night, kissed me like you did earlier, sent me to shower, left me only a very slinky silk robe to wear, and then greet me again looking like this,” you gesture at him, “fixing me a drink, and you call that ‘planning to get lucky?’”

He shrugged, his smug grin only growing. “Do you think there’s any way in hell I’d be where I am if I hadn’t strategically hedged my bets? Absolutely I plan to get lucky. I make sure I don’t give luck any reason not to go my way.”

You didn’t need alcohol. He was beyond intoxicating. He had been from that first night.

“And I’m assuming I don’t get a choice of drink tonight, either?”

He looked at you again. “I let you choose a lot of things, but I want you to try this. I think you’ll like it.”

You bit your lip and tucked your legs up under you, draping an arm over the back of the couch and facing him as well as where he would return to sit once finished mixing your drinks. His back was to you now, and you were not surprised he seemed to want to keep his preparation a mystery at least for a few more moments.

“Long day at work?”

“Work?” You weren’t expecting such a normal inquiry about it.

“Yes,” he chuckled, “work, my beautiful, talented chef.”

He handed you a wine glass with clear liquids over ice, garnished with fresh mint and slices of lemon, while he had what looked to be a whiskey smash in his other hand. You took an experimental sip as he sat close to you, angling his body to face you, resting his arm over the back of the couch as well. The citrus and mint blended with something floral and…

You swished the contents of your drink in your glass before taking another sip. It was bright and refreshing and not quite the evening night cap you would have expected.

He watched your face, gaging your assessment as he sipped his own drink.

“What is this?” you asked.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you countered, “but what is it, James?”

Your name on his lips ticked the corner up in a half smile. “It’s a Hugo cocktail.”

“It’s not a predictable choice for the middle of the night.”

“It wasn’t my intention to bring you hear and tuck you in straight away.”

You laughed. “There’s no question what your intentions were. We established that.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You’re not picking up on all my intentions.”

Your brow furrowed. Then you let out a little yip of surprise as he pulled you closer, you clutching your wine glass to keep from spilling the drink.

He had already positioned himself close to you, but this was even more intimate. You were nearly in his lap, and he did pull your legs up to drape across his thighs.

“Now tell me about your day.”

“Oh, you were serious.”

His hand settled on one of your bare thighs, just next to your knee.

“If I didn’t want all of you, I would’ve fucked you in the foyer and let you go home. I want this, too. Now talk.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you smiled. This really was him – demanding but not inflexible, and certainly giving you more than you expected.

So, you did talk, just as you had been really starting to the more he had brought you around to spend the time with him these last weeks. However, there was no getting around that this was more intimate. No others around, no distractions, no functionality of a thing you were doing together, only the two of you.

His line of inquiry was genuine, and he listened intently.

Almost too intently.

You were his singular fixation, and you knew he was thinking of nothing but you as you spoke.

And his fingers brushed idly over your thigh as you conversed.

The soft, repetitive motion wasn’t distracting at first, but it wasn’t long before it was an overwhelming tease of what wasn’t happening.

The physical touch you hadn’t experienced at his hand in weeks.

He was asking questions about how some of the new members of your kitchen staff were integrating, and all you wanted him to do was glide that hand down between your thighs.

You sipped at your drink, and as you continued to talk, you let your other hand drift to rest on his arm still draped over the back of the couch, and your fingers traced along a vein on his forearm. Although it was difficult not to let your eyes drop to his bare chest, you kept his gaze. If he was going to continue talking like this proximity and the lack of clothing between you both wasn’t affecting him, you were determined to match him.

Finally, he moved his hand from your thigh, but it went straight to your waist to curl just above your hip. “Kiss me,” he said.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips hungrily to his without hesitation. He set his drink to the side, then grabbed yours to do the same. With both your hands free, neither of you wasted another moment. Your hands went to his neck while one of his hands traveled slowly up your spine, the other holding your face. As impatient as you were for him, both of you kissed to savor, but there was no rush to it. His lips moved against yours, your tongues explored together, tracing, memorizing, exploring. It wasn’t enough, the tenor moving from savoring to consuming, and you shifted, moving into his lap.

He broke off the kiss briefly, turning his head to the side, but his left hand remained firmly against your back, keeping you close, and you rested your forehead against his temple. His other hand reached to the side table, and he plucked one of the slices of lemon and some mint from your drink. Curious, you lifted your head away. He brought the mint leaf to your mouth first, pressing it along your bottom lip. Then he pinched the fruit against your lip. The mint played with the acid of the citrus deliciously as he kissed you again, this time each of you nipping and licking intermittently through the kisses. Your hands explored the broad planes of his chest now, and his hands raked up and down your sides, thumbs skimming over the side swells of your breasts.

Keen for more, you pressed your body closer to him, pushing your core directly against the hardness of his cock. Rocking your hips, you drew a debauched moan from him that made you swell with pride and made your pussy ache even more for him. You needed him, each moment driving that need exponentially now.

The thick arms and broad chest you were getting to explore freely for the first time held only some of the rippling muscles that made it seemingly easy to push up off the couch while still holding you close with one arm, and it made a broken whine escape the back of your throat. You wrapped your legs around his torso, and his other hand squeezed and held your ass against him as he moved you from the seating area across the room to the bed. He tossed you down on the mattress, then pushed the silky robe – which was naturally already askew – off your body and flung it away. You pushed yourself back a bit more on the bed, and he was only a half second behind crawling up after you.

He pushed your legs wide open, and dove immediately for your dripping cunt. You laughed, a little flushed, but also more than ready for him to bury his face between your thighs. You let your head fall back against the soft bedding, closing your eyes. Then you yelped as there was a sharp slap to your pussy instead of his lips on your folds. You jerked up to look at him, and the devilish grin on his face, the darkening of his eyes made your heart stutter.

“Don’t laugh, Chef, I told you I was hungry for you. Keep your eyes on me,” he said.

You took a deep breath, leaned back on your elbows, and gave him a solemn nod.

He pressed kisses slowly along your inner thigh, his deep blue eyes locked on yours. The fluttering in your stomach rose steadily, your pussy desperate for his attention. When he planted his lips in the crease of your thigh, he left his mouth there. A broken whimper leapt from your throat, and you pushed your hips up.

He pushed your hips back down with one of his large hands and moved his mouth the opposite direction and bit at the tender flesh of your inner thigh, making you yelp.

“Please,” you murmured.

“Eager for me?”

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation.

“Good.”

And then he worshiped your cunt, kissing it with as much fervor as he had kissed your mouth, and you moaned openly, no worries over anyone but him hearing you here. You didn’t look away, completely captivated because this was also a new level of intimacy that you felt both ready and unprepared for. Receiving oral sex from other partners had never felt so purposeful. This man in this moment was so avid in the way he was pleasing you, making you watch him, you brain was having a hard time recalling if sex with anyone before him had ever been so intense. You didn’t think it had – that first night when he’d demanded it from you in the kitchen, the next time he’d coaxed you into a few moments of pleasure in the dining room, and now inviting you here to have you without restraint – each encounter had been unlike anything before.

The pleasure was overwhelming as his lips and tongue licked, sucked, flicked your clit, delved into your folds, and he kept a keen eye on your every reaction. You began to feel lightheaded with the mounting waves of bliss, your toes curling, breaths coming in short gasps until your head fell back because you simply couldn’t look at him anymore, couldn’t do anything but feel, ready to fall over the edge because of him again.

But then he pulled his face away, jerking you back from that edge of ecstasy and you would have whined, but he was already manhandling your hips to flip you over. One of his rough palms smoothed slowly and firmly up your spine, applying delicious pressure, but you still felt the lack from the orgasm he’d dangled then withdrawn. “James,” you moaned. “James, please.”

He drew his palm slowly back down your spine. “You’ll have me, Chef, don’t doubt that.”

You whined again, but he pushed your thighs apart and slotted himself again between them, holding you splayed open for him with his broad shoulders. It was a little uncomfortable, stretching your legs, but you settled and breathed through it anticipating what was coming next.

His tongue teased at your clit for a moment, then slowly licked up and between your folds to dive into your cunt, lapping inside, and you shivered. But then one of his hands pushed at your ass cheek and his tongue continued moving up, and you gasped and tried to move away when the tip of his tongue teased your tight, puckered hole.

“Easy,” he said softly but firmly, his other hand moving beneath you and hooking at the juncture of your thigh to pull your hips back flush against him. He pressed a kiss to your round ass cheek.

“I’ve never,” you admitted enough, he knew what you meant. He kissed the same spot on your ass cheek, but then he shifted, and you felt him moving up over your back, his body pressing lightly against you until he was up at your shoulder. He pressed a kiss there, and then looked at you.

“Then I won’t give you more than my tongue tonight, but you know I’ll make you feel good, don’t you?”

You nodded.

He smiled, then left the ghost of a kiss to your temple and slipped back down behind you.

Resuming his exact same positioning, his left hand curling under to anchor at the juncture of your leg, his right pressing you open to expose your ass, you pressed your cheek into the pillow and took a deep breath. You reached your left hand down to meet his, and he twined his fingers reassuringly with yours as they sought him. Then his mouth pressed in, and his tongue darted out, swiping over the tight ring of muscle.

“Just relax and feel,” he instructed.

You concentrated on breathing and then the new sensation. Unexpected. Then a different kind of pressure, then pleasure. It wasn’t awful as had always been insinuated. It was debauched more than anything else, and he soon had you moaning and panting and wriggling back against his tongue which alternated between lapping at the hole and teasing in and out. It was when you pushed hard back against him that he pressed a kiss again there and pulled back.

“I know what you like.”

It wasn’t a brag; it was a statement of possession that sent a shiver through your body. Because he was right, and you couldn’t deny that.

“Now come here,” he said, pulling you by your hips up to kneel, presenting for him. “Such a pretty folds.” His fingers circled your clit, then slipped briefly inside your cunt, drawing a happy gasp from you.

He grabbed his thick member and brushed the tip up and down over your sensitive parts a few times as you pushed up on your elbows, your back arched in a beautiful bow for him. When you looked over your shoulder at him, he finally sunk his cock into you. His hips pushed forward against you slowly until he was completely buried inside you, filling you, pressing so intimately into you. Fully sheathed, he stayed there for a moment, and he ran his hands over your hips and your lower back, caressing, relishing in the fill. He pulled back slowly, but only a couple of inches, then pushed back in, clearly wanting to relish in this for a moment. You had no desire to rush him either.

When his hands gripped your hips, you dropped your forehead to rest your forearm on the mattress, and then he began to fuck you, building a steady rhythm. He built up bit by bit, and you both let words and sounds fall out of your mouths as the physical feelings increased in intensity. Having been so close twice, when he finally moved a hand to rub expert circles into your throbbing clit, your body quickly responded in releasing your orgasm, and your spasming walls pulled him right along with you, and he came with a shout over your moans, a stuttered thrust, and then he continued a few more pushes, his hot spend coating your walls.

He wrapped an arm around your stomach and pressed kisses into your back, and you curled up into him with a hum of contentment.

When he pulled out, he reached over to the bedside table to retrieve a waiting damp hand towel – you shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d prepared to this detail – and then cleaned you up and then him before tossing it away. He stroked your back once more, then scooped you to your side, and pulled your naked and spent body to him so he could spoon up against you. You put your arm over his, and he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Stay?” he murmured simply into your ear.

This you didn’t answer immediately. You let your chest fill and empty with a few breaths, weighing your answer between your head and your heart. But neither of them fought to leave.

“Okay,” you finally breathed.

He settled in even closer, then reached for the sheets to pull up over the both of you. “I told you that first night that you would warm my bed.”

“Don’t be smug,” you protested.

“I’m not,” he insisted, and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder, “I’m only pleased I’ve finally got you here.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #mob boss!bucky barnes x reader #mob au #bucky barnes x you #devour au #aspen wrote something #bbb2023 #buckybarnesbingo2023 #female reader

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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year

Text

Stay the Night

here’s some old-school Bucky in Wakanda smut. I didn’t think I’d publish Bucky stuff here, yet here we are. Hope you enjoy x

18+, smut, fluff. It's just you and Bucky in Wakanda while the team is away. He tends to his flock, you wish he tended to you.

“Today is the literal meaning of ‘hotter than Hades’,” you announced as you collapsed less than gracefully on a broken tree log as Bucky Barnes shot you a look over his shoulder, sweat protruding from every pore in his tanned, muscular form, a tendril of long, dark hair falling into his glassy blue eyes from the loose ponytail behind his head.

Jesus, a man should never look that damn good, you thought, fanning yourself with your shirt, the material sticking to your drenched skin. Thank god the heat hid your blush.

“Bored?” he asked, scooping up a hay bail and loosening it for the goats he tended to munch on.

“Radio silence,” you replied. “I kind of feel like I’m in the way of the locals when I can’t contact the team. I haven’t heard from Nat, Sam or Steve in a few days. I am pretty useless at times like this.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky said, pointing at the water bottle you had parked beside you. “You brought water. I assume that’s why you’re out here in the midday sun,” he teased as you tossed it to him and he caught it easily with his right hand, twisting the cap off and guzzling the cool refreshment.

Every movement was pure sex, you sighed quietly as his throat bobbed, water falling from the creases of his lips and down his chin. Life seemed much fairer before Bucky Barnes.

“Thanks, Buck,” you rolled your eyes as he finished the bottle easily, crushing it in his palm and laughing at you, walking back to hand it to you.

“No, no,” he nudged your boot with his. “Thank you,” he went back to stacking and distributing hay as you said a quiet goodbye and told him you’d see him later.

You hated when the team was away.

While you’d made some friends in Wakanda, you were still finding your way and mostly felt in the way of working alongside the Wakandan defence and communications teams. They used a lot more sophisticated tech than Stark had ever provided you and you’d never admit it out loud, the tech was somewhat confusing at times, thanks to its gross advancement over what you were used to.

You’d always be thankful for T’Challa and his family for taking you into the palace grounds, a necessity, T’Challa explained. It was beyond amazing and his lovely mother, Ramonda, fussed over you to ensure you were comfortable at all times. It was nice to feel so welcome, but so lonely without your family.

Steve, Nat and Sam had left days ago. Wanda and Vis were off the radar (lie, you knew they were having some kind of rendezvous in Europe and had no intentions of interrupting whatever was or had developed between them).

That left Bucky.

After he’d been woken from cryo, Shuri had run every test known to man on him to assist in the removal of the trigger words, he’d gratefully taken up residence away from the hustle and bustle of the wondrous city and hauled his ass out to the farmlands, simply requesting the peace, privacy and quiet. For the first time in over 100 years, he was able to be his own man without fear of retribution. Sure, the dark memories flickered occasionally, but the words would never hurt him again.

He enjoyed the serenity in the sounds of nature, with the exception of an iPod that Sam had gifted to get him up to speed on more modern music than the 1940’s bops Bucky was more accustomed to –

You sighed, hearing the knock at the door, interrupting the reverie of mindless TV. It was late, too late for guests. After dinner, you’d showered and retired to your PJ’s – your threadbare, well-worn Yankees shirt (your first souvenir of New York City when SHIELD moved you there years earlier regardless of your disinterest in baseball) and loose PJ pants. “Coming,” you replied, pushing yourself up to open the door, surprised to see Bucky on the other side - cleaned up, void of sweat and dust in lazy sweat pants and a white t-shirt. A casual Bucky Barnes. This new development was not helping your crush. Not in the slightest. “Hey. You lost?” you teased lightly.

He showed you a bottle of Glenfidditch and you chuckled a little, moving from the way to let him in. Closing the door behind him, you leaned back against it, a little confused about his visit as Bucky simply didn’t visit anyone aside from Steve or Shuri. You only visited Bucky occasionally to make sure he wasn’t segregating himself, but he did usually prefer his own company when Steve wasn’t around.

“Got ice?” he asked, going to the kitchenette for a couple of tumblers.

“I don’t actually – if I’m going to drink aged whiskey, I’ll be doing it properly.”

“Ooh,” Bucky cooed, a small grin growing on his lips. “A woman after my own heart.”

“Blame Steve – a few years back when we all moved to the Tower… fuck, just after Ultron maybe? Steve brought out a bottle of this stuff and I’ve been a convert ever since. He said you guys would destroy bottles together.”

“Well, he did. I would drink responsibly though I didn’t know at the time I could put them back as well as Steve could with the serum running through my veins,” he said, bringing the glasses to the coffee table, cracking the top and pouring you each a glass. “Are you gonna join me or hang out by the door?”

“Sorry,” your face flushed as you skittered over and sat at the other end of the couch. He handed you a glass and gave you gentle ‘cheers’ before you sat in silence for a while, enjoying the smooth amber liquid. “…Bucky, if you don’t mind me asking, why are you here?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “I dunno – you seemed a bit forlorn today. Thought I’d try and be a friend,” he shrugged. “You’ve been pretty accommodating to me since we got here. I guess I could repay the favour even if you’re only checking in on me for Steve. And you’ve got air conditioning,” he tossed in the joke to try and lighten the mood.

“Steve didn’t ask me to keep tabs on you,” you admitted.

“Oh,” Bucky said, sipping his whiskey and easing back on the couch. “Do you like it out here?”

You chewed your lip, dropping your eyes to the glass. “I mean, it’s a hellova lot better than being shipped out to The Raft,” you admitted as he stifled a chuckle.

“True.”

“If I’m going to be on the run for associating with the team, it might as well be in one of the most securest places on the planet.”

“You chose well,” Bucky agreed.

“Would have been stupid for me not to take it. I owe T’Challa, and Steve, a lot.”

“They’re good men.”

“Absolutely.”

Silence overtook the room again though there was no discomfort with it.

“Thanks for havin’ a drink with me,” Bucky said as he polished off his glass. “It’s getting late,” he got to his feet.

“Oh,” you said, surprised. “Okay.”

“I don’t want to impose,” he said with a gentle shrug, collecting his tumbler.

“You’re not imposing. It’s nice to have the company, to be honest,” you confessed.

“'Nother glass then?”

“Definitely,” you said, hoping not to appear too eager. Bucky gave a small nod and poured again.

“I know I’m not much of a talker,” he told you as you sat and cradled your glass close to your chest.

“I just enjoy the company regardless of noise levels,” you shrugged. “It’s different when the team is here, but when they aren’t…”

“When they aren’t?” he pressed.

“I have too much time with my thoughts.”

He raised a glass. “I hear that.”

Your glass joined his. “Why are you in the farmlands then and not in the palace?”

He nodded slowly as you hoped you hadn’t overstepped the mark. Blame the first glass of booze – less than tipsy you would never ask such a question. “Just tryin’ to earn my keep – least I can do since T’Challa is harbouring an international war criminal, assassin, murderer – ”

You gave a gentle laugh. “He’s not harbouring you.”

“Protecting me then,” Bucky corrected himself.

“Maybe protecting you,” you admitted, agreeing.

You both continued a polite conversation, mostly about Steve and the team before you both started dozing at your respective ends of the couch. “I should really head out now,” Bucky said.

“Stay, it’s a million degrees out there.”

He gave you an incredulous look that told you he knew what you were saying, but staying was still a terrible idea. Suddenly overwhelmed, you realised it completely sounded like a blatant invite for sex. It wasn’t, you thought. Was it?

Trying telling your libido that.

“If you stay on your side of the bed, Bucky, and I stay on mine, we won’t have any issues,” you try to regain your composure.

“Are you completely sure?” he looked about as convinced as you thought you were.

“My God, it’s sleep,” you told him. “I would never deny you, of all people, Bucky, sleep.”

Bucky nodded slowly. “Okay. Thank you.”

“It’s far too hot to stay out there overnight. Enjoy a night’s sleep in the air con,” you joked. “If you enjoy sleeping in comfy climates, hey, you might even move in here.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Here?”

You blinked a few times, not catching his tease. “Yeah, like here, the palace.”

He laughed. “Okay.”

“Oh, you thought in here. With me,” you barked a laugh, getting off the couch and heading for the bed, Bucky following a safe distance away. You stifled your discomfort with snark, “Oh, darling,” you leaned forward to cup Bucky’s stubbly chin. “Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

“Oh darlin’, don’t fall for me so quickly. It’ll only end in heartbreak,” he mocked in return. You laughed incredulously, thinking to yourself, ‘too fuckin’ late, buddy’ and moving to your side of the King bed and pulling the pillows towards yourself.

“If you’re truly concerned, here. Build a pillow wall with me. Put that hay bailin’ practice to good use.”

He sighed with a gentle smile, he was thoroughly enjoying this cheeky banter you’d suddenly worked into your conversation and helped you build the Great Wall of pillows.

“Perfect,” you said, fixing the last pillow in place.

“That is an impressive pillow wall,” Bucky concluded, stifling a laugh. “Failsafe.”

“Make yourself comfy,” you told him, laying back as he pulled off his soft cotton t-shirt and folded it, placing it neatly on the bedside table next to him, a habit he’d picked up in military training in the 40s and never really lost it, no matter what control he was under, you imagined.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he told you. “It is a lot nicer inside than out.”

“Told you,” you replied with a chuckle, raising a fist to him over the wall.

“What is that?” he chucked.

“My knuckles? You’ve never knocked ‘knuckles’ with someone? A fist bump?”

He laughed louder. “No, I’ve never fist-bumped.”

“Then hit my knuckles with yours,” you instructed as Bucky did as he was told. Still confused for a second, his hand met yours gently before opening and clutching your wrist in his warm, rough-skinned hand and bringing your open hand to his lips. The rules of the pillow wall were suddenly crumbling before you. Destroyed so easily.

“You need to behave,” you told him, suddenly very nervous.

“I’m finding it so hard. We’re here and I know it’s not just me that is feeling this, sugar,” he continued kissing to your wrist and moving towards your inner elbow as he got to his knees. Your body betrayed you as goose pimples shot up and down your spine and you found yourself sitting up opposite him. “All I wanna do is compromise this pillow wall.”

You could cut the tension in the cool room with a knife as your eyes burned into his. Chewing his lip, he made no secret of his intentions as he licked his mouth and walloped the pillow wall away.

Suddenly there was no divide and you were looking at each like they were your last meals. “Can I kiss you?” he asked shyly.

“If you don’t, I’m going to kiss you,” you retorted as he skimmed across the sheets to you and pulled your body flush to his. He sunk his fingers into your hair and pulled your face to his, leaving a small kiss on your waiting lips.

“Is that okay?” he asked, almost afraid.

“More,” you demanded as a reply. There was nothing forgiving about it – you were suddenly craving him – his mouth, his touch, his body, his scent and he was surrounding you in a way no other person had before.

He moved back a little. “One minute – I gotta explain…” he breathed gently. “This is kind of my first time being intimate in a long time. I know this,” he looked at his left shoulder, ashamed. “I know it’s not sexy. And if you don’t want to be with me because of it - ”

You grasped his face in your hands, forcing his eyes to meet yours and kissed him lightly. “Believe me when I say I do not care, Bucky. I know you do but I need you to know, this changes nothing for me.”

“I’ve imagined this so many times with you, pleasing you and now we’re here, I just…” his soft Brooklyn accent rumbled. “I just imagined it as me. The old me.”

Your head spun – he felt the same way? Jesus Christ, assassin school taught him surely how to fool you into believing he barely knew you existed.

“Well, I only know this, Bucky – I’m pretty crazy about you.”

His eyes flickered. Maybe it was emotion, you weren’t sure.

“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

This time, he blushed.

“So maybe, you should just lay back,” you said, helping guide him to do so, his head settling amongst the remains of the disastrous pillow wall and you kissed him, he moaned just loud enough to hear. “And we have a good time, okay?”

He nodded, nervously. “Okay.”

“Now, relax,” you said, unsure where your confidence was coming from but you knew he needed you to lead him and you were going to treat him right. He deserved this – you, and all of you. All for him.

You ungracefully tossed the sheets from the bed, they’d just be getting in the way and crawled towards Bucky’s feet, grabbing the loose elasticised ankles and pulling at them, the sweats he wore drawn from his slender hips, descending his powerful thighs and calves before you disregarded them all together, leaving him solely in boxer briefs. Calvin Klein, how so very rude.

And dear, if your mouth didn’t water at the surprise he poorly hid in them.

Kissing his ankle and working your lips up the inside of his legs, tickling behind his knee, he shuddered. He shuddered hard. “Fuck,” he muttered. You smiled against his skin, lips moving again, your hands massaging his powerful thighs. Stopping at his waist, you crept onto his lap and pulled away your shirt. Bucky sighed, his hand reaching out to touch you. You leaned closer to him as his arm skirted around you, pulling your body flush to his to kiss you, your tongue tracing his full lips as he enthusiastically opened his mouth for your tongues to meet. His hand scalded your skin as he groped at you lightly, cascaded your side and tangled into your hair, deepening the kiss as his hips started to move beneath your body, his cock needing the friction.

You paused and raised a finger to him. He raised a confused eyebrow as you scampered off him to lose your sweats, no panties underneath. You didn’t let him get a good, long look at you before you moved to rid him of his boxers, hard cock free and you gave him a few encouraging pumps, his eyes rolling back. “Sweet Jesus,” he begged for mercy. “Please.”

“Please?” you raised a teasing eyebrow and sat on your knees between his muscular thighs. He was asking you to go down on him. You’d never felt so willing before to please a man as you were for to do for Bucky.

“Please,” he tried again as you could see this man didn’t need to be teased, he just needed to be wanted. Adored. Loved.

“Okay. Okay, now you sit back, Barnes. And you let me take care of the rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he tucked his arm behind his head, licking his lips as you took him in your palms before an encouraging kiss to the head and taking him into your mouth. “Dear God,” he managed to say through groans. His hand found your hair again, pushing your hair from your face to see what he thought was the most beautiful mouth he’d ever seen work over his body. “Baby, that is so good. So hot,” he encouraged, clutching roughly but not enough to hurt, just enough to spur you on. You continued your ministrations for a few minutes more before he guided you away from him, gasping. “Baby, stop. I’ll come.”

You blinked at him. “That’s okay,” you promised. “I’m a big girl, I can take it.”

He grinned at you. “I’m sure you can. But I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he admitted shyly.

“Oh,” you gave a gentle nod. “I thought I was doing something wrong.”

He shook his head, alarmed. “God, no. You were a little too good at what you were doing,” he reassured you. “Get up here,” he pulled you to his face to meet him for a lingering kiss. “You could kill a man with that mouth.”

“I doubt that,” you got suddenly shy, burying your blushing face in his neck as he guided your face back to his.

“Don’t get bashful now, sweetheart,” he gazed at you like you were about the best damn thing he’d ever seen. You didn’t know how or why, but the look turned you on more than any act prior to right then. You just wanted to make him happy, release him, and feel him come apart under your hands. “I have an admission to make, and fuck, I hope this doesn’t come across as shitty…” he said quietly.

“What’s that?” you asked, suddenly feeling very exposed regardless of you lack of clothing.

“Uhh… I don’t know, logistically, how I make this work without you on toppa me, baby. I’m sorry, I don’t want to crush you if something goes wrong,” he looked as though he wanted the bed to eat him whole.

And why, you don’t know. But his admission gave you the confidence you didn’t expect. “Is this you suggesting I ride you?” you gave a small giggle as he chewed his lip.

“Lil’ bit, yeah. I know that sounds so goddamn selfish – ”

“Giving me the power over you makes you selfish?”

“Well, it takes away a fair amount of effort,” he reasoned. “And you know, I wanna show you what I can do…” his voice trailed off, timidly.

And suddenly you understood. This wasn’t just about a missing limb – this was the pain and terror from all those years ago. The raw, never-ending trauma of Bucky’s initial testing, falling from the train in the Alps. Losing his arm seemed so minute in all of it. Years of physical and mental abuse, and psychological torment at the hands of HYDRA, of the Soviets, whoever was the highest bidder for The Winter Soldier.

This was touch, connection, feeling wanted and adored – oh, how needed to Bucky understand how much you wanted to be the person to help him.

You tutted him and inhaled, gently cupping his cheek, choosing compassion. “Relax, handsome, lay back and enjoy,” you instructed as he nodded slightly and wrapped his scorching hand around your ribs. It was such a simple act, but it turned you on so much. It felt possessive, wanted. “I want to make you feel so fucking good – will you let me?”

You don’t know why you asked, but you knew you needed to hear him tell you he wanted this too. “Yes,” he nodded shyly. “Hell yes.”

“Okay,” you leaned down to kiss him, reached between your bodies and in your warm hands, adjusted your body on his. Viewing Bucky as he felt you sheath your body around his was as good as it could ever get – his plumb lips drawn into his gleaming white teeth, his bright blue eyes hidden behind his long lashes. Giving him some time to adjust, just like you were to his size encouraged you as he lightly raised his hips in hopes for you to move. “You good?” you asked again.

“Better than, amazing,” he told you, gripping your hip and your body slowly started to move above him. “Jesus Christ,” he uttered, raising his eyes to look at you.

Taking his hand and linking your fingers as you relaxed and stopped trying to ensure his good time (it appeared ensured) and sinking into feeling so good yourself, you moved your hips more, craving Bucky deeper, hoping to find that elusive little spot to make you explode.

“Touch yourself?” he pleaded quietly. “Please, sugar?”

Appeasing him happily, he watched your free hand creep down your body and open yourself up to where your bodies met, your fingers putting on a show as you toyed with yourself just for his dark, lust-filled eyes. Your body tightened under the pressure and Bucky’s pleasured grunts and curses was certainly on the rise. His hand relinquished yours as he clutched onto your ass, forcing you rougher into him, his tempo speeding up and urging you to do the same from the friction his body caused yours.

“God, you feel so good. So wet, so warm,” he muttered, his breathing deepening as his hips haphazardly fired into you. “Are you close?” he asked desperately. You were, you so fucking were, you realised, his simple question bringing you even closer. You nodded as you pressed harder against your clit, desperate for your own release and of course, his.

He needs this, you reminded yourself. You needed this. “Fuck, yes,” you replied as he used his abs to sit up, suddenly so much deeper into you as you looked at each other face to face, chest to chest and Bucky kissed you. He kissed you with those beautiful lips and a tongue that knew exactly how you wanted to be kissed as he moaned into your mouth. He wrapped his arm around your waist and took a nipple into your mouth as you started to come – that was the move, the special way to push you over the edge. Realising this, Bucky grinned and looked at you, using those pearly whites to chew lightly and you were coming. Coming so hard that you felt like you might have seen stars as he let out a litany of curses and came hard too.

“Oh, sweet Jesus,” Bucky breathed, chest heaving as he rolled onto his back, taking your body down with him, keeping you wrapped in his embrace and softening inside you. Bucky Barnes liked to cuddle, you realised.

“Holy shit,” you managed to say as you tried to settle your breathing. “That was fantastic.”

“Really?” he asked bashfully. He looked you in the eye and begged you weren’t lying to him. You nodded and tenderly kissed him. “Good,” he gave a small, shy smile and suddenly appeared so boyish. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have the thank me,” you told him. “Trust me, I’m just glad you stayed.”

“Fuck, me too,” he laughed. “Me too.”

Hearing your phone beep, you shot up through the heaviness across your chest and halted you. Bucky’s body subdued you – the body heat he exhumed was hot and stifling. He groaned, pulling you back down to him.

“They’ll call back,” he muttered. “Sleep.”

“It’s the team,” you whispered back. He breathed heavily, reaching out for the phone for you reluctantly and putting it in your hands. Relief washed through you. The team, including Wanda and Vis, were returning to Wakanda imminently. “Did you sleep okay?”

Yawning, Bucky slightly freed you from his grasp. “You weren’t wrong about sleeping comfortably – I mean, I don’t deserve to, but it was the most relaxing sleep I’ve had in years.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Bucky. Truly.”

He soothingly kissed your naked shoulder. “Thank you for last night.”

“I just hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“So much,” he breathed against your skin, rolling you to your back and lightly pining your body under his. You loved the feel of his weight on your body. You would come to crave it. Addicted and all in less than 12 hours. You’d fallen so hard, so fast. “Did you?”

“Yes,” you couldn’t lie. Bucky’s body was made for a multitude of sins and loving on a woman? The top. He kissed each eyelid that fluttered closed under his touch, the tip of your nose, his mouth travelling through your throat to your décolletage. “Behave…” you teased, your fingers lacing into his long, dark, loose waves.

He laughed into your skin. “Okay,” he nudged your knees apart, his hips meeting yours. He felt as if he was flying – he’d never imagined the confidence he felt, that you’d given to him. Or how you could have destroyed it by rejecting him. The power you had over him was stifling. That was a hellova lot scarier than what was to eventually come.

“What did I say?”

“You told me to behave.”

“And what did you do?”

“The exact opposite,” he admitted. “I just can’t seem to keep my mitts offa you. You’ve opened the floodgates, sugar. I don’t know if I’ll ever be the same again.”

Your phone beeping incessantly now, you found yourself in a world where only you and Bucky ceased to exist. The rest of the world could wait another hour.

#make me regret posting this 😬#bucky with the good hair #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky angst #white wolf #notroosterbradshaw #reposting from another life #if this bombs I’m deleting it

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