#I'm still trying to get back into the groove after the worst writer's block so uhhh I hope this is fine?

[flowercrowngods]

yearning hours (bonus track)

🤍 also on ao3

Seeing Steve like this always makes Eddie feel like he’s suddenly in on some secret of the universe. Like he knew nothing prior to this moment, like history is rewriting itself around the two of them just now. It makes him feel like the boy he is — young, stupid, with no idea about the world and what lies beyond, and absolutely in love with another boy. 

The light of the full moon catches in his hair, painting it silver and covering him in a sheen of light that Steve knows to wear like a second skin. He’s calm out here, his legs dangling over the abyss of the quarry, his hands in his lap, his chest rising and falling steadily. Slowly. Evenly. Eddie wants to reach out and hold his hand over Steve’s heart just to feel it against his skin, just to give his own some direction; to get it right. 

No frown between his brows, no tension in the line of his shoulders, no clenched jaw or balled fists. 

He looks beautiful like this; a playing field for light and darkness that treat him like an old friend that comes to visit, to stay just for the night. 

Steve is beautiful. And Eddie gets to watch; take it all in, the silver light on the bridge of his nose, the shadows underneath his lips, the dried trail of old tears, telling a glistening tale of the heart that combines history and future. 

Eddie watches as Steve stares out at the quarry, his eyes fixed somewhere in the darkness, unaware of his surroundings as he loses himself in that freedom he makes for himself every night he is out here. The freedom he is willing to share with Eddie, apparently. 

It’s a privilege. An honour. And still all Eddie can do, all he wants to do, is look at Steve and watch him and see. Justbecause he can. Because Steve won’t tell him to stop, because he won’t ask him about it, won’t duck his face or skip away from Eddie’s smile or his hands or his silent confessions whispered into his very own thoughts. Not here, not in the darkness. Not anymore. 

He wants to reach out and take that hand that’s resting in Steve‘s lap, weave their fingers together and breathe a promise into the air between them. Wants to tug on that hand and make Steve fall into him, make their hearts pick up their paces because for just a fraction of a second they’ll think they’re about to lose their balance and fall. Fall down there, into the darkness, and never see the light again. 

A breeze picks up around them, brushing through Steve‘s hair and making it dance in the moon light. Eddie’s eyes follow with rapt attention, but still it breaks the spell of yearning and brings a question to the forefront of his mind. 

A question about calm, about darkness, about Steve and what that means. 

Lifting one leg from the abyss to wrap his arms around it and give his hands something to do, something to hold, Eddie asks, “You ever think about jumping?” 

Steve blinks once. Twice. Coming back from wherever he went while Eddie waits patiently and watches. 

“Jumping?” 

Eddie inclines his head even though Steve’s not looking. “Off. Down there. Y’know...”  He trails off. 

Steve blinks again, a frown between his brows redirecting the silver light on his face before he finally turns his head to look at Eddie. 

“No. Not uhm... Not jumping." 

Eddie takes it all in, trailing his gaze over Steve's face, searching for something he's not sure exists. This thing between them that's been growing steadily. This thing between them that has lead to quiet nights at the quarry, to Steve talking about bravery and jumping and all those things that aren't meant for daylight. 

"No? What then?" 

Eddie reaches for a pebble, scratching its smooth surface with the nail of his thumb because he’s feeling restless again and he needs something to anchor him. He always does, around Steve. The boy just makes him feel weightless and heavy and floating and sinking at the same time, and Eddie is always just along for the ride. Wouldn’t want to miss a second of it.

Steve musters him for a moment and Eddie can feel himself tensing up a little, aiming to seem nonchalant with the pebble in his hand, like it’s the most normal thing to do for a boy who’s not ready to be a man yet in a world that never even let him be a child. A boy who failed his senior year three times. A boy who’s endlessly in love with Steve Harrington. 

The golden boy. But he’s painted in silver now in this moment shared just between the two of them. Maybe Eddie is looking for symbolism where there is none, his mind clinging to romanticisations and narratives of beauty and belonging just to defy the bleakness of the world that grownups have always been so adamantly demanding of him to believe in. 

Maybe he’s blinded by infatuation, stupid and colourblind with it. Or maybe it means something that this gold-skinned boy is veiled in silver light as he’s looking at Eddie like that. 

Like he sees it, too. 

Like he can feel it, that something between them that’s been growing. 

And Eddie feels hope rising in his chest for a second, dares to let his heart skip and jump and race, brought to life by Steve’s eyes trailing down to his lips; and falling, when the boy only huffs. 

“Nothing. It’s stupid.” 

Eddie hums, pleading his heart to come down, a little bit terrified that Steve would hear it for how heavily and rapidly it’s beating against his ribcage. “Tell me anyway?” 

He loves it, the way Steve’s lips tug up into a smile. A shy, secret little one, illuminated and captured for all eternity by the moonlight for one second, two, before he turns his face away and looks down into the abyss again. 

“I like when you do that.” 

“What?” 

“Tell me anyway. It’s… It makes me feel not-stupid. Or like it’s okay, you know? Like even if it’s stupid, it’s still there, still worth telling maybe. Not an empty phrase. Just… Yeah. You know I’ll tell you anyway, Ed.” 

And what do you even say to that? Nothing. There’s nothing for Eddie to say because his heart is still racing against itself and winning and losing and falling ever after. 

Stupidly, he offers Steve his pebble. Wondrously, Steve takes it, his fingertips lingering on Eddie’s palm, electric and tickling, and they both huff. Breathless. 

“Falling,” Steve says at last. 

“Hm?” 

A twitch of his lips, looking over for the briefest of seconds before he focuses on Eddie’s pebble, rolling it between his fingers, placing it in the middle of his palm, and Eddie aches to take its place. To place his hand on Steve’s palm and hold him, to have Steve play with his fingers like that. To be the centre of Steve’s attention more than he already is. 

“It’s not about jumping. Just falling. And trying not to.” 

Eddie swallows, biting his tongue, not daring to speak now. His voice would waver, his heart would jump out and he’d be found out. So he watches. Listens. Longs. 

“I’ve never…” Steve trails off and closes his fingers around the pebble. “I’ve never been good at not falling.” 

It hangs in the air between them, boring into Eddie’s mind, his thoughts, his desires, and it leaves him reeling. Confused. Blinking. 

Steve doesn’t elaborate, though, and Eddie feels like he’s losing his mind. He’s been there, he’s done that, and Steve always makes him feel like he’s terribly close to that, but… There was something in his voice when he said that. The same something that’s in the air when they sit together, just a tad closer than is strictly necessary or acceptable. The same something that floats between them when their eyes meet and neither of them looks away — until they have to, with pink-tinted smiles on their faces. 

This something that is reserved in the universe; reserved for them. Reserved for Eddie and his crush that has turned into a flame, a bonfire that keeps him warm and sustained and safe so long as he doesn’t touch it. Reserved for Steve and the way he doesn’t duck his head to hide his smile anymore, the way he started laughing more around Eddie, and the way he always finds excuses to touch him, to linger, to stay. 

And so, with a voice that doesn’t quite feel like his, he asks, “Why are you trying not to fall?” 

“Because…” He shrugs, frowning at the pebble. “Because the landing always hurts, Eddie.” 

And I’ve already hurt so much. I’m already hurting so much. Can’t you see it? It goes unsaid, but it’s spoken still with the tiny shrug, with the tone of resignation, and the way his voice breaks on Eddie’s name. 

It breaks something inside Eddie, too. 

“Steve,” he whispers. Thought that if he said his name, it would be unbroken. It’s not, though, it’s just a name that hangs in the air now. 

Steve puts away the pebble, laying it gently between them, and Eddie feels colder for it. “Told you it was stupid.” 

“It’s not,” he hurries to reassure him, insistent and desperate for Steve to believe him. “I’m not judging or anything, shit, Stevie, I’m just…” 

“Just?” 

Just thinking that I would catch you. Just longing to fall with you. Not just for you. Always, always for you, though. 

But it’s too much; the words are bubbling inside him, too close to the surface, ready to break out and face the world, but Eddie swallows thickly until they lose their momentum. 

So he shakes his head and breathes deeply. Watches as Steve’s shoulders fall slightly as tension bleeds out of them. Maybe it’s better for the words to stay where they are. Unsaid. Secret. 

He wants to take the pebble back, but he feels paralysed. Maybe it’s one secret too many. Maybe it’s what will break him, them, this something between them. 

But looking at Steve now, streaked in silver and a loneliness that wasn’t there before, something settles inside him. 

“I would catch you,” he says, like it’s that simple. “Give it all to find a way. It sounds cheesy as fuck, and maybe it is, but Jesus, Stevie.” His voice is small, gentle like he’s never really heard it out of his own mouth, and he reaches out to tuck a strand of Steve’s hair behind his ear. It was never out of place, he just felt this ache he needed to soothe. Just wanted to touch Steve. He always wants to touch him. “I would find a way.” 

Steve looks at him, meets his eyes over the thrum of darkness and secrets, over the terrifying petrification that seems to have overcome them both, and over the hitching breaths and skipping hearts that guide the hand of fate. 

“Why?” he breathes. Like it’s just a word. Like it’s not Eddie’s entire heart and soul laid bare, Steve’s name embedded in weeks and months and years of simile and symbolism, deeply ingrained in his every thought now. 

“Because I want to,” Eddie says. Like it’s that easy. He leans forward, falling toward Steve to rest his head on Steve’s shoulder and being the one to hide now. “God, I want to.” 

It’s a whisper, but Steve’s shaking underneath him. Eddie is ready to bolt, ready to run, his hands wrapped around his middle protectively just in case he’s misreading all of this spectacularly. Hoping and aching and pleading that he isn’t. 

“Eddie,” Steve breathes, but doesn’t move away from him. He sounds a little lost with it, and Eddie is reminded of the hurt, broken little sound that was his name just moments earlier. It makes him snake his hand out from under himself to lay it on Steve’s thigh, palm up. Inviting. Offering. “You can’t just say shit like that, man.” 

Eddie huffs a breath he wasn’t aware he still had in his lungs when everything has turned into Steve and falling and catching and wanting. 

“Why not?” And there’s vulnerability in it, spreading its wings inside him, pushing back everything else he’s been feeling before as a different kind of the same reality comes crashing down on him. Why not? Because we’re boys? Because you’re Steve and I’m Eddie? Because I’ve been misreading this after all? 

He pulls away, but Steve does take his hand before he can get too far.

“Because I’m already falling. And falling and falling and falling, and there you are.” Steve’s hand comes up to his hair now, brushing it behind his ear to meet his eyes. “Pretty.” He sighs, leaving his hand on Eddie’s cheek. “What if it’s too much?”

“You?” 

“Me.” It’s rotten work. 

Eddie shakes his head. “Never.” Not to me. Not if it’s you. 

“‘M gonna start saying shit,” Steve murmurs then, his face impossibly closer now, and Eddie’s eyes trail to his lips. He doesn’t want to kiss Steve. Well, he does, and quite desperately in fact; but not right now. He wants to keep looking at him, wants to keep talking, wants to drink him in and just to be there. Make good on his promise. 

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Cheesy shit,” Steve grins, though it wavers in the moonlight. Still it makes Eddie’s breath hitch. “Like asking you to hold me. And never let me go.” 

Eddie smiles, plucking Steve’s hand from his cheek to rest it in his lap, playing with his fingers and marvelling at the feel of them. They’re so warm. Maybe Steve has that same bonfire inside him. 

He almost asks. Instead, what he says is, “And if I do that? If I hold you? And catch you. And never let you go. And tell you that you look really good in the moonlight, and all that cheesy shit…” They grin, Steve’s fingers twitching in his lap. “Would you let me?”

“Let you what?” 

Eddie swallows, his cheeks heating, his heart racing again.“Be the one you fall for.” 

“Eddie,” Steve breathes, and the sound is far from broken this time, spoken as it is around a smile, accompanied by eyes glistening in the moonlight. “You already are.” 

His heart is soaring. There is no other word to describe the feeling that overcomes him, body and soul, and he wants to scream about it, wants to laugh and cry and jump and fly. But all he says is, “Good.”

“Yeah?” 

And, God, he sounds so hopeful, so innocent, so purely and deeply serene that Eddie can’t help but move carefully until he’s standing, holding one hand out to Steve. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, laughing as Eddie pulls him to his feet and immediately wraps his arms around Steve’s middle, leaving him to bury his face in Eddie’s neck and wind his arms around him, too. 

“Just making good on that promise, Stevie. Gonna hold you til you’re sick of me.” 

“God, I love you,” Steve whispers into his skin, accompanied by another breathless laugh as he burrows deeper into him. 

Or, at least Eddie thinks that he said. Maybe he was the one who said it. Maybe he just thought it, made it feel real with how strong he's feeling.

But before he can so much as freeze with the onslaught of both possibility and reality, Steve’s hand comes up to his cheek again and he brushes a kiss to his neck, one to his jaw, and then one to his cheek, before returning to bury himself in Eddie’s embrace. 

Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes him in as they stand there, just holding each other. Falling and catching each other. Cradling their something new in trembling hands that tell the tale of two boys terrified and brave, and smiles that speak of future. 

yearning hours | yearning hours b-side

#steddie #steddie fic #the yearning hours are not related by story. just by theme and imagery and mood I think #I'm still trying to get back into the groove after the worst writer's block so uhhh I hope this is fine? #dio words #oh look no one's depressed in this one!!! it's more of a deep yearning than a heavy one in this I think #not sure I'm happy with this ending but shhh #it's that kinda bonus track where there's 5 minutes of silence and you think the record is done but then BOOM surprise song

[thrawns-babygirl]

"Why are you covering up? I've already seen everything." It's number #44 on the prompt list. Maybe the reader has been very insecure about their body lately, and doesn't want Cross to look at them because they are ashamed of themselves? It can be smut/fluff/angst, anything you feel would fit good! 💜 I love your stuff so much 😭

I've had the WORST writer's block recently and this fic took me a good 3.5 hours to write lmao but I think I'm finally back in the groove. I hope you enjoy it <3 as always constructive criticism, likes, reblogs, replies help keep me going.

and let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist for future works <3

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Insecure reader, dirty talk, unprotected PiV, let me know if i missed any Word Count: 1200+ Prompt: #44 "why are you covering up? I've already seen everything"

Masterlist

Time alone with Crosshair was… very hard to come by. You’ve lost track of how long it’s been since the two of you shared more than a stolen kiss in passing while between missions. To say you were feeling pent up was an understatement to say the least.

Finally however, the stars align, and you were able to spend some quality time together after what you would both consider to be far too long.

Pressed against the walls of your quarters in nothing but a thin top and a pair of panties, Crosshair’s lips working the soft skin of your neck, hands running under the flimsy material of your sleep shirt make your head spin… and not in an entirely positive way. It’s been so long after all, what if he’s changed his mind? What if you’re not what he wants anymore? Negative thoughts swirl around your head as you try to keep yourself in the moment.

Suddenly you’re very aware of him lifting the fabric of your shirt over your head and you quickly move your hands to cover yourself. He pulls back, eyebrow raised as his eyes rake up and down your form. “Why are you covering up? I’ve already seen everything”.

It’s the first time he’s spoken to you since shoving the two of you into your room what feels like an eternity ago. “Well, I… You know it’s just been a while and-” You’re shifting on the spot, arms wrapped around yourself, looking at your feet as Crosshair places a knuckle under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him.

He looks at you intently, eyes narrowing slightly, placing a soft kiss on your lips before wrapping his arms around you and throwing you over his shoulder moving the both of you towards the bed in the centre of the room. You let out a squeak as he effortlessly manhandles you, you sometimes forget that despite his lean frame this man is a genetically engineered super soldier as he throws you down onto the bed.

You’re lying on your back, leaning your weight on your elbows as Crosshair sheds his blacks at the foot of the bed until he’s totally naked before you. You run your eyes along his lithe form, insecurity flaring again as you look at his (in your opinion) perfect body. He’s all toned muscle meanwhile you are… you.

He begins crawling up the bed towards you “mesh’la… You have nothing to worry about-” he begins placing kisses up your legs, starting at your ankles lips moving up your calf, alternating between both your legs, working his way up towards your thighs where he sucks small marks into your skin. You look down at him, your chest heaving with ragged breaths as he lavishes you with attention. “You are gorgeous…” he mumbles into the skin of your thigh. His words send heat through your body and your head hits the pillows behind you, your insecurities ebbing away with each pass of his lips over your body.

You close your eyes, basking in the feeling of his mouth getting closer to your still clothed core. You can feel his breath ghosting over your panties, but he doesn’t touch you, he simply continues his journey up your body, lavishing kisses onto your stomach, upwards towards your breasts. You open your eyes and look back down at him to find him gazing up at you intently. His pupils are blown wide and you can feel the bed moving slightly as he ruts his hips into the mattress to give himself some friction as he continues his torturously slow pace up your body.

“You are a work of are cyare… I want to worship every… single… piece… of… you…” he has his lips around your breasts, his words send vibrations through your chest straight down before he latches his mouth onto one of your nipples and sucks. You arch your back, your fingers threading into his short hair as he rolls his tongue around the bud before moving over to give the other one the same treatment.

He moves himself between your legs, grinding his aching length against your panties causing you to gasp, tilting your hips up to meet his until you both settle on a slow rhythm rutting against each other. You can feel Crosshair’s grunts and groans against your skin before he finally releases your nipple with a pop.

“You feel that mesh’la?” he grinds himself against you with more force “you feel what you do to me? You feel how kriffing hard I am for you? Your perfect body” he moves to his knees, pulling away from your body to peel your panties down until you’re totally bare before him. He drags his gaze down your form again, lingering on your glistening folds before his hands move back to your thighs and he’s dragging you closer to him.

Your legs settle either side of his slim waist as he takes himself in his hand, dragging the weeping tip along your entrance, gathering your slick along his head before nudging your folds open and slowly pushing inside of you. You groan out, throwing your head back onto the bed as his hands settle on your waist, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he starts a torturously slow pace dragging his length through your slick folds with a practiced precision, hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Cross- ah… harder please” you moan as he continues to rut his hips against yours slowly. “Be careful what you wish for mesh’la” before you have a chance to respond he’s moving your legs over his shoulders, and sets a brutal pace in and out of you.

He rips a loud moan from your chest as he pounds into you, hitting the sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. He moves one of his hands down towards the apex of your thighs, rubbing tight circles against your clit while his other hand holds your legs against his chest.

“Y-you are so- ugh- karking perfect doll” his pace is starting to lose its rhythm, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit as the coil in your abdomen threatens to snap. “I want you to cum on my cock pretty girl, before I- kriff- paint you with mine” his hips are snapping into yours with wild abandon, that combined with his filthy words send you tumbling over the edge with a ragged groan of his name. “That’s it princess… you’re so beautiful when you cum”

Your back arches off the bed, and you scream soundlessly as your walls tighten around him. He throws your legs off his shoulders before pulling out and stroking himself until he spills ropes of hot cum over your stomach with a groan of your name.

He flops down on the bed next to you panting. After catching his breath he rolls over to face you, resting his head on his hand as he looks over you with his elbow planted on the bed. “You never have anything to worry about mesh’la, you’re stunning” you give him a soft smile as he places a soft kiss on your lips.

“Shower?” he asks and you nod as you extract yourself from the bed heading to the fresher with the sniper hot on your heels.

You really didn’t have anything to worry about after all. You never do.

@where-is-my-mind-tho @starborncyare @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker@djarinswife

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