#Robin you twisted and sick and I love you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strangersteddierthings · 1 year

Text

Shovel Talk(s) Part 3

Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four

Steve wants to be self-sabotaging. He wants to give Eddie a reason to break up with him. To end this before Steve ends up hurting him. Yet he's also helplessly in love, so instead of being ten minutes late for their date, he's fifteen minutes early.

He forgot he was going to just honk the horn until Eddie appeared and only remembers he was going to do it after he's already knocked on the front door. Eddie answers, looking as beautiful as ever even though he wore that shirt yesterday, but the jeans are clean, and his hair is brushed. Steve does manage to hold himself back from opening the passenger door for Eddie like he usually does, instead sliding himself into the driver's seat.

Eddie does shoot him a curious glance but Steve's careful about not looking at him as he starts the car and heads towards the bowling alley.

Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, and Robin are also at the bowling alley. It's not exactly a coincidence they run into them because Steve knew they would be here. (Sabotage was the goal. Turning their three-month-aversary into a group hangout might do the trick.) But Eddie likes bowling, and their friends, and also seems to be using the group atmosphere to hang off of Steve more than he would if they were bowling just the two of them.

And if Steve's being honest with himself, part of him knew that would happen, too. That Eddie wouldn't mind the group because their friends cover for them wordlessly. Eddie wraps his arms around Steve and suddenly Jonathan is standing between them and anyone who could see. Eddie leans in to give him a quick cheek kiss and Robin is at Steve's other side doing the same thing. Argyle and Nancy spread out across the seating, leaving barely enough room for Eddie and Steve to sit, so their close proximity looks forced rather than wanted.

And Steve's bad at not wanting Eddie. He finds himself reaching out and having to snatch his hands back. He plays hot and cold all night and it does have the desired effect. He can see Eddie's patience waning, can feel a shift in their dynamic and his stomach twists with shame.

He keeps conversation with Robin, and Jonathan, and Nancy, and Argyle. But not Eddie. He doesn't outright ignore Eddie, though. When Eddie talks to him, he answers but he doesn't initiate conversation. Uses as few words as possible to answer before rushing to take his turn.

He should apologize.

He can't say anything.

He's in love with Eddie, so Eddie has to leave him.

He's in love with Eddie, so Eddie leaving will ruin him forever.

Eddie should hate him, so this would be easier.

Eddie should love him, so this would be easier.

Steve's a goddamn mess all night, and no one calls him on it.

Why would they? They think he's going to hurt Eddie anyway.

"Did I... do something?" Eddie asks. Steve feels a little sick to his stomach as he puts the car in park in front of Eddie's house but doesn't turn the key. After tonight it's not likely he'll get invited in anyway.

"What?"

"You've been distant all day, dude," Eddie says and Steve can hear the frustration in his voice. He also notices that Eddie called him dude, which he hasn't done since their first date. "Distant for a while now, actually."

"Sorry. I didn't realize," Steve lies, staring straight ahead. The voice in his head keeps chanting 'just break up with me already' because Steve knows it needs to happen, but he can't do it. But also he's thinking 'tell me you love me so I know we're in this together' and also 'I want to love you but I'm scared'. His whole mind is a contradiction right now.

Eddie looks at him, face carefully neutral, "What did I do?"

"Nothing," Steve is quick to say, because it is true and he doesn't want Eddie to think this is his fault somehow. "You didn't do anything."

"So, is it something I haven't done?" Eddie asks.

"No." Yes. But also no. Tell me you want this as much as I do. Tell me you hate me.

Eddie looks down to his hands, which are fiddling with his rings. They sit in silence because Steve doesn't know what to say. After what feels like an eternity, Eddie must decide something because he nods to himself and says, "right." before he climbs out of the passenger seat and slams the door shut.

The slam sounds so loud, so clear, so final, that Steve feels something inside him crack, echoing the slam. He rips off his own seatbelt and climbs from his car quickly, the need to reach Eddie before he closes himself behind his front door suddenly very important, suddenly overriding any other thought he's had. Steve just knows that if Eddie gets his door closed, then Steve really will have proven everyone right.

And he doesn't want to.

He feels it in his bones that if Eddie makes it into his house, and gets his front door closed before Steve says anything, that it will be with the thought that Eddie somehow fucked up their relationship and Steve will not be able to live with himself if Eddie believes that.

"Eddie, wait!" Steve shouts as he rounds the front of his car, beelining for the door.

His shout works, because Eddie, hand clasped on the doorknob, twists to look over his shoulder instead of opening the door. Eddie doesn't hide the hurt on his face, or the pain in his voice, "What, Harrington?"

Steve doesn't know what he's going to say, hasn't planned for this. He had never wanted either of them to hurt in this relationship, not in a way they couldn't fix (he'd promised Wayne three months ago-), yet he let his mind take him down the road of self-destruction. Self-sabotage. He'd fucking planned to ruin their date. Eddie should leave him.

And yet.

Steve might feel he's not good enough, or nice enough, or changed as a person enough to deserve Eddie, but in the end, Steve thinks, realizes, it's not his decision if Eddie finds him deserving or not. That's on Eddie.

And now, seeing Eddie, who always looks beautiful but now looks hurt, Steve doesn't want to just give up because everyone he cares about thinks he's not good enough. He doesn't want to have ruined this. If he can just be open, and honest, then Eddie will at least hear him out. He's just got to say something true. He opens his mouth and- "I love you."

Eddie's hand drops from the doorknob as his whole body turns to face Steve. His eyes are wild and wide as he asks, "What?"

That wasn't what Steve had thought he would say, but now that it's out he doesn't want to pretend he didn't say it. But he's possibly also having some sort of manic episode because he just starts talking and can't stop. "I'm in love with you, Eddie, and it fucking scares me to death, because no one seems to think that I can, or that I deserve to, but I do and I want to. I've just been spiraling thinking about it and about how everyone thinks I'm just going to hurt you, because that's the last thing I want to do, ever. But then I just spent this entire night trying to make you hate me which just means that I am hurting you. And, also, if more than one person makes a point to like, bring it up to my face, that I'm just going to hurt you, there's got to be some truth to what they say, right? Multiple people aren't usually wrong and now I've proven them right anyway because I've been an asshole to you this whole day, whole week if I'm really honest, and I hate myself for that beca-"

Eddie shuts Steve up by grasping both his shoulders and shaking him like a ragdoll. Steve didn't even register that he'd left the porch and had walked up to him. "Stevie, Steve, shh. You gotta slow down, sweetheart. That's a lot to take in."

"Right. Right, sorry," Steve's voice sounds watery to his own ears, and also Eddie looks a little watery, which is odd and- oh. He's crying, he realizes, when one of Eddie's hands moves to swipe a tear from his cheek.

"Go inside, sweetheart," Eddie nudges him towards the door, "I'm going to turn off your car and I'll be right in."

Steve obeys because he's pretty good at following instructions. Unfortunately, it does mean he just stands anxiously in the entrance hall waiting for Eddie to come in behind him because the only instruction was 'go inside'. Steve's not even aware that he's worried Eddie might not follow until he comes back into view and a wave of relief washes over Steve.

Eddie leads him down the hall to his bedroom before making Steve take off his shoes and clamber into the bed. Eddie fusses and arranged them so that Eddie is sat up against the headboard and Steve is cuddled up between his legs, head tucked under Eddie's chin. Steve worms his hands behind Eddie's back to hug him, and Eddie wraps his arms around Steve to return the embrace.

"Stevie, I got to be honest, I thought you were wanting to break up with me today," Eddie says.

Steve tightens his hold just a bit, "No. And yes. But also never?"

"That makes no sense."

"The thought of breaking up... I'm not going to lie, Eddie, I have thought it. But not because it's what I want. It's because there were moments when I thought it was what would be best, for you."

"How the fuck do you reckon it would be 'best for me' to break up with me?" Eddie is rubbing soothing circles on Steve's back, so he doesn't think he's in too much trouble.

"I let... I just got into my head about things. Your uncle gave me the shovel talk, which yeah, okay, fair. He's basically your dad, he's supposed to be on the lookout for people who would hurt you. But then, he wasn't the only one. And no one straight up said I would, for sure, end up hurting you, but then I learned that no one had given you a shovel talk and I just- Fuck. This all sounds so stupid! I don't want someone to threaten you. That's not what this is about but it's just- it feels like- why doesn't anyone care that I might get hurt, too? And then everything spiraled."

"Oh, sweetheart," Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head. Steve doesn't deserve this comfort.

"I just- I found myself thinking that like, if I just broke my own heart first, by breaking up, then they wouldn't be right. But also like, they wouldn't be wrong, because breaking up would hurt you, too, and then they'd pick sides and they'd pick yours because they were right about me but also, they're wrong because you have the power to fuck me up, too. 'Cause I love you."

"That's the third time you've told me," Eddie says.

"You don't have to say it back," Steve is quick to say, "I just- Now that I've said it, I can't seem to stop but you don-"

"I'm in love with you, too, you know," Eddie whispers, cutting Steve off as one of Eddie's hands comes up to play with Steve's hair. That thing that cracked inside him early, the feeling that made Steve call out to Eddie, settles back together somewhere deep within him.

Eddie plays with his hair for a bit before he says, "It's super fucking shitty of our friends to put that on you. And I'm sorry for not noticing that you were hurting. If it helps, Robin has given me a shovel talk. Kinda. I think she also gave one to Nancy at the same time? But for like, past you." That gets a chuckle out of Steve. "And Erica threatened to slash my tires if I hurt you, not even a full two weeks ago. And I don't think she even means like a breakup hurt. I think if she learns about today, she'll slash my tires even though we talked it out. Or, will have talked it out, by the time she finds out. Which I hope she doesn't. Because she'll slash my tires."

Steve is a little amused at the end of Eddie's speech because Eddie does sound, just a little bit, afraid of Erica. He tilts his head up and presses a kiss to the underside of Eddie's jaw and then freezes, because he's not sure he should have. Not after how he's treated Eddie this past week, and today especially. But Eddie doesn't react like he's upset. His fingers still glide through Steve's hair and his other hand rests on Steve's back in a half embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Eds," Steve says, shoving his face into Eddie's neck. "About today, this whole week, for- for everything. I'm so sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, sweetheart," Eddie whispers back, "I let myself think things of you, you know. Shit I know isn't true, and wouldn't be, because I was scared, too. That I'd fallen for you. I didn't let myself believe you'd love me back, so I thought some really awful things."

"Well, I acted on my thoughts, so you don't have to apologize."

"Yes, I do. And I accept your apology."

Steve huffs, breath warming his face along with Eddie's neck. "I don't think you did anything wrong, but I accept your apology, too."

They lay for a few moments more before Eddie's shoving softly at Steve, to get him to roll over, onto his side. He does, facing Eddie, and Eddie rolls onto his side to face him. Immediately Steve's hand seeks out Eddie's, he can't stand to not be touching him in some form right now. Steve slots their fingers together, and Eddie curls his fingers down to grip back. Steve brings their joined hands to his lips, placing a kiss on Eddie's knuckles before he says, "So, where do we do from here?"

"I don't know the where," Eddie gives him a soft smile, "but I do know that I want it to be together. So, I guess we just, go forward, together. With more talking. You have to let me know when you're hurting, babe. I can't help if I don't know."

"I know," Steve nods, "I know. And I'll try. I promise, I'll try my best but I don't- what if I can't?"

"I think you can," Eddie says. "You did, today, just now. And I guess, on nights we're really mad at each other, we go to bed mad but together. Same bed. Because I'll need the reassurance of you being here."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll do that," Steve says before pressing one more kiss to Eddie's knuckles, then letting their hands drop back to the bed. There's more talking to be done, Steve's sure. He wants to explain himself better, more thoroughly, but Eddie is content to let him lay here so Steve's going to take it for now. "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Yeah, sweetheart," Eddie says, soft smile on his face. "You work tomorrow?"

"No," Steve says, "why?"

"Redo date. Make it a whole day thing. Just us," Eddie explains with a shrug, "Not that the bowling wasn't fun. Just-"

"Yeah," Steve is quick to agree, both because he wants a redo, too, and because he doesn't want to hear the rest of Eddie's sentence. "How about we go to Indy for the day?"

"Sounds great. Now, let's get some PJs on and channel surf until we find something tolerable," Eddie leans in, giving Steve a quick kiss before rolling himself off the bed and beginning the search for pajamas. Steve's happy to watch him bend over the various piles of clothes around his room.

#steddie #my fic #yall keep asking who is protecting steve? who is on steves side?#and the answer is HIS BOYFRIEND *insert party popper emoji*#shorter than the other parts and im not happy with it but i want the boys to be okay so #enjoy

2K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 year

Text

✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours.

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while.

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve.

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress.

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him.

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely.

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice.

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break.

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it.

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #published by bug #st oneshots

3K notes · View notes

luveline · 7 months

Note

Jadeee you are feeding us well today (screw those anons) if you’re still taking requests i thought the “would you still love me as a worm” prompt was funny and am curious to see Steve’s version if possible? If you’re not taking requests, so sorry!

hi! tysm for requesting ♡ fem!reader

Steve arrives with a shout and a loud bang. You glance up from your book, ear turned to the stairs as he hisses a swear.

"You okay?" you call.

He swears again. "Hey! I forgot you were coming over tonight."

You lounge in his bed in pyjamas he bought for you, your hair out of your face, completely at home. "Your bed is more comfortable than mine."

Steve bounds up the steps from the sounds of it, mildly breathless but beaming as he passes the threshold and launches himself at you. You shriek as he crushes the pages of your book between you, his hands needling under your back and his weight on your stomach. "You're freezing!" you yelp, trying to squirm away.

He's too determined. "God, I'm happy you're here. I'm thinking, fuck, I miss my baby, I wonder if she'll answer my calls tonight or if I'll have to beg–"

"Yeah, because I usually make you beg to see me." You brush the hair from his face, eyes narrowed at him playfully.

Steve shifts his weight to keep the majority of it off of you, one leg sliding between yours and the other on the outside of your thigh. His lips are as cold as his hands but gentle as he kisses you, misaligned, your bottom lip clearly catching his attention. "I would've," he murmurs between soft kissing, his nose brushing yours as he raises higher. "Would've done anything."

"Lucky you, I never make a pretty boy beg," you say, his breath warming your lips. You stay like that for two seconds, three, eyes closed and breathing in the other.

He gives you a quick peck before settling in the curve of your neck. "This is awesome. Friday night party. Oh! And I've been meaning to ask you something so it's perfect that you're right here, Robin asked me and I wanted to ask you because I was thinking about it in the car…" He loses concentration, his hand stroking up behind your shoulder, as if to say, Hey, I got you.

"Did you get much sleep last night?" you ask, bemused.

"Totally…" He fakes a snore.

"Steve. What did you want to ask me?"

"Oh, yeah." He picks himself up from your neck. You must look squished, soft-jawed and unmade, but Steve doesn't look any less in love than usual. "Would you still love me as a worm?"

"What?" you ask, stroking his cheek with the back of your pinky. "Do you want to shower before you go totally dumb on me?"

"I'm serious, this is a serious question. And I only want to shower if you're coming with me, but this is important. Would you love me if I was a worm?"

"Yeah, Steve. Of course I would." You smile as he smiles, tandem beaming that feels silly but good. "Why would you be a worm, though?"

"See, this is what I asked Rob, and she said that doesn't matter but it doesn't make any sense. I told her I'd love her if she was a worm and she said she wouldn't love me because bugs give her the heebies. That's sick, right?"

"Well, would you love me if I was?" you ask.

"Are you stupid?" Steve noses at your neck, words said in tiny bursts of heat on your skin, "I'd turn myself into a worm to be with you forever."

"Now I feel like I should've said that."

"No way. I loved how little you hesitated," he praises. Like a cat nuzzling a post, his hair tickles you. "If we were worms together we wouldn't have to work. We'd spend all day hugging."

"Ew, all slithered together," you say, delighted.

"Twisted around each other. Not not like this," he says, kissing your cheek sweetly. "We'd be the best worms ever. Me and you."

You encourage him off of you to rescue your murdered paperback. Steve rolls onto his back, please smile lingering as he stretches out and sighs with relief. He needs a shower, and a shoulder massage, or a naked back rub while you watch TV. You'll order takeout, eat it with wet hair from the shower and ankles locked on the couch.

"I'm glad we're not worms," you say, sitting up. Steve meets your eyes, his brown and dark in the dim lighting. "I really love us right now. I love you."

You kiss his forehead.

"I'll go get the shower running, okay?" you ask, climbing from the bed.

Steve's voice comes quiet and hoarse as he calls after you, "I love you too!"

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

638 notes · View notes

idyllicwillowtree · 8 months

Text

How Much Love

Genre: Steve Harrington x fem!reader / gn!reader; angst with fluffy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship

Summary: Steve has a migraine attack but he’s too stubborn to take care of himself.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: one curse word, non-descriptive vomiting, migraine symptoms, chronic pain, crying, one use of Y/N, dumb joke, p*rn reference?

Author’s note: I know the migraine thing has been overdone but idc :) I'm pretty sure this could be read as gender neutral but you can lmk if that's not the case

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Steve knew he shouldn’t have gone to work. The second his eyes opened he knew it was going to be a rough day. The persistent throbbing on the left side of his face and the twist of nausea in his stomach would be enough to convince anyone else that they should take it easy.

Not for Steve though.

He’s done this dance before. The battle in his mind of not wanting to waste one of his precious sick days or if he should stay home and take care of himself so he can make it through the next day. He usually sucked it up and went with the former.

I’ve had worse before, he’d rationalize to himself. I can handle it.

His true motivation for leaving the comfort and warmth of his bed was the date he had planned for you two. Steve went all out with flowers, chocolates, dinner reservation at Enzo’s, and concluding the night snuggled up on his couch watching a rented movie.

But the customers kept coming. Steve could've sworn they were all there, not to rent a movie, but to exacerbate his migraine attack. Tired mothers bringing in their screaming babies, a group of smelly teenagers, and a boisterous man who was trying to convince Robin that The Godfather was the greatest movie ever made. That’s not even mentioning the flickering fluorescent lights that Keith refuses to change the bulbs in.

Robin began to take notice once Steve kept bumping into the shelves as he put away tapes around the store. She watched as he mustered up enough strength to pick up a stack of returned tapes and mindlessly put The Muppet Babies in the Horror section and something called I Dream of Weenie in the kids section.

By 4:30, he was absolutely fried.

“Go home, dingus,” Robin ordered.

All Steve could muster was a small grunt from his spot at the register. His forehead was pressed to the cool counter, toned arms wrapped around his head, trying to keep as much noise and light out as possible.

The bell on the door of Family Video was the final nail in the coffin. People have been coming in and out all day but this time the ring pierced through the side of his head like a burning knife, swiftly penetrating his brain and twisting it for good measure.

Steve’s back stiffened as he sat up too fast, stomach turning when he ran blindly through the store and into the bathroom before emptying out the contents of his stomach. He tried not to think about when the last time the toilet was cleaned as he kept his face in the ceramic bowl, spitting out the rest of the sour bile coating his throat.

Steve barely heard the door creak open through the throbbing in his head and the ringing in his ears, but he did notice the light in the bathroom turn off. “Go away, Robin,” he croaked out.

The disobedient footsteps continued towards him. He just wanted to be left alone, feeling too vulnerable in this state. He felt embarrassment twist in his chest at the thought of not being able to handle a simple headache.

A cold hand landed on the back of his neck and began to massage lightly. It felt comforting but Steve’s mind was rejecting it, “Robin, I said-”

He finally lifted his heavy head, half opened eyes widened slightly as he met your concerned gaze, only for him to start welling up. Steve’s lip trembled as it failed to keep a sob from escaping.

“Oh baby,” you whispered. “Not feeling good?”

Steve hung his head the best he could with his stiff neck and shook his head in response.

“It’s okay, Stevie. Try not to move your head too much.”

You squatted next to him on the nasty bathroom floor and gently brought him into your arms. You let him cry into your shirt, gently rubbing soothing circles on his back and neck. Steve knew that crying would only hurt his head more, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t understand the emotions he was feeling yet, but he knew he was relieved to see you show up. Like a superhero, there to heal and protect him from any harm.

“I’m here now, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”

_______________________________________________

Steve was so out of it he wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next thing he knew he was snuggled in a cocoon of pillows and blankets. He peeled his eyes open and recognized the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

You were puttering around the room, tidying up a little so Steve would have one less thing to worry about. He admired how natural it looked for you, knowing where everything goes and even avoiding the loud creaking spots on the floor. Steve had the sudden urge to reach out but you tucked him in so well he was having trouble slipping his arms out.

His grunt of protest over the blanket entrapment alerted you and you were by his side in an instant.

“What is it baby?” you whispered gently, “you need some water? Or a new ice pack?”

Only when you removed the cool washcloth from his forehead did he notice the satisfying chill. He must have been practically asleep when you brought him home because he really doesn’t remember anything.

“What time is it?” Steve croaked out.

He leaned into the kiss you pressed gently to his cheek before you answered, “almost midnight.”

“What?!” Steve immediately went to sit up, but in his weakened state you were easily able to push him back down. “We had reservations!”

“I know, Stevie. It was really sweet of you to make plans but nothing we can do about it now,” you tried to reason. “We need to get you feeling better.”

“But I-”

“Stop that,” you demanded, still with a quiet and gentle tone, but it was still enough to cut him off. “Let me take care of you, Stevie. I know you feel bad, but I want to take care of you.”

Steve wasn’t sure if you meant he was feeling bad because he was sick or because of the immense amount of guilt he feels whenever he sees himself as a burden to others. Probably a little of both.

“I just…I was looking forward to tonight,” Steve muttered tiredly. “And this stupid chronic thing just always gets in the way and I don't…I don’t like asking for help.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he was making much sense but your smile showed him you understood. Your expression was soft and comforting as you gently raked your fingers through his hair. “Steve, I love you. All of you. Every single part of you I just adore. It doesn’t matter if those parts are feeling bad or good, I’ll always be here,” you stroked his cheek gently with the back of your hand, his eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. “I like caring for you Steve. It makes me feel good. So don’t worry about burdening me or anything like that, okay?”

Steve felt his lip tremble again but managed to gulp down his sobs this time. He whispered a quiet, “thank you” before fully relaxing. He lazily pursed his lips, silently asking for affection, which you happily fulfilled. You moved in close and kissed his lips as a way to let him know you will support him during this tough time.

Once you were leaned back you said, “now, on a scale from one to ten, how bad does it hurt?”

“Mm…Eleven.”

“No, it’s Y/N.”

Silence engulfed the negative space until a curious Steve peeled one eye open, only to see your shit-eating grin. He knew you’d be frozen like that until he laughed, but your expression was usually funnier than the joke.

He puffed out a laugh through his nose before shutting his eyes again. “That was horrible,” he said.

“Maybe, but at least I got you to smile,” you said smugly.

“Mm you sure did,” he praised you lightly. “Now c’mere. Cuddling is the best medicine.”

It’s called ‘chronic pain’ for a reason. Sure you can dull the pain with medications and treatments but it’ll always be there. Sometimes all you have to do is deal with it and ride it out, but it makes it so much easier when there’s someone there who loves and supports you.

Love may not be able to cure all kinds of pain but Steve thinks your love comes pretty close.

thank you for reading!

Main Masterlist

502 notes · View notes

silencesscreams · 10 months

Text

be my mistake

steve harrington x f!reader (smut)

“steve, how could i avoid you? it’s impossible, you’re everywhere i look!“

a/n: also i slipped in a little amy march reference in the discussion part, its my steve fic, sorry in advance if you dont like it and its shitty!! english isn’t my first language so sorry about any grammar mistakes

warnings: angsty-ish, best friends w the scoops troop (i love them so muchhh), afab reader, crying, swearing, kissing, praise, oral (f receiving), begging, a bit of degradation, penetration, unprotected (do not do this pls.),

MINORS DNI

you could say that working at the local family video had its perks.

specially when your two closest friends worked with you but, of course, none of them knew about your recently resurfaced crush on one of them.

steve was not the same guy he was when you met him, sure, he flirted with a lot of girls, and with you, but he was nicer. he was sweet to customers, he even occasionally 'babysit' (that was how robin called hanging out with the kids he was friends with).

recently, steve had become more touchy towards you, he was constantly giving you hugs, he even held your hand at the movies once! sure, you and steve had become best friends, but did he know the effect he had over you? he must know. you blushed whenever he barely touched you, and you felt like your feelings were pretty obvious, you never knew how to hide them properly. he must know, right?

something else, which robin had noticed and commented on with you, was that steve hadn't flirted with any girls in a while now. sure it was weird, because thats basically the thing he did the most, but you didnt really bother, it actually made you a bit less insecure.

you, steve and robin started to watch movies every late monday, since you had less customers on those days, so you'd usually 'work late' and get some takeout and watch some shitty movie you'd probably talk through and make very bad jokes about later.

“ladies! im going on a second date tonight!” he said, barging in with a smile on his face. you could feel your heart fall to the ground, you didn’t even know he had a first date with someone recently.

“what? with who?” robin asked confused.

“her names camila, she goes to state college, i think”

“hm, and did you tell her you have no dreams for the future and work at a family video?” robin teased him.

“oh please, i have a lot of dreams!” he complained, putting on his vest.

“sure you do, stevie” you commented, rolling your eyes playfully. why were you feeling so stupid?

you could feel your stomach fall to the ground, god, that hurt.

it was not like you ever even kissed him. so that meant he was just flirting with you for the fun, then, god, that hurt even more.

and plus, it was steve harrington.

you wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship ever, specially not because of some crush you had, if you could even call it that.

it lasted so long it was probably a free fall at this point.

and so steve went on the date.

and with that, steve had a new girlfriend.

and you hated every single cell in her body.

camila was mean, evil, sick, twisted, a bitch, disgusting and she had this god awful breath. her perfume left you with headaches. and did i say she was mean? because she really was.

but you couldn’t help to not be at least a bit angry at him, and so you found yourself avoiding him at all costs. mostly because he was always with camila and you found her insufferable, but it was also because, yes, you were hurt.

then steve and camila broke up.

so you found out, you had no excuse not to hang out with him anymore. you had no excuse to skip movie sessions, outings, or anything else.

and so whenever a hang out would come up, you suddenly had a sore throat, a headache, a fever. and you don’t know why, but robin wasn’t judging you for it.

you told her about your crush and told her that was the reason you weren’t hanging out with them outside of work, and she understood. she didn’t even question it, and that made you feel worse about it.

“okay, whenever you’re ready to hang out again, feel free to come over, alright?” that was all she said. and it hurt deeply, because you missed your best friends.

but being around steve was unbearable.

and you still, gave it a shot.

monday came around, and robin invited you to hang out at steve’s and watch friday the 13th. for the first time in 2 months, you said yes.

punctually, you were at steve’s, it was 7pm and that was half an hour later to what robin scheduled with you, but her car wasn’t on the driveway. that definitely made you nervous. one thing was hanging out with steve AND robin, the other was hanging out with steve.

took a while for steve to answer the door, once he did, he was standing there in all his glory, wearing grey sweatpants and shirtless. you could feel all your dignity (which was very little) leave your body. you were feeling your body get hotter by the second and the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy.

“hey, come in” he smiled awkwardly, looking around his house nervously.

“sorry i didn’t answer the door earlier, my family’s out of town and i forgot and assumed someone else would answer it.” you smiled at him.

“no problem” you said, trying so hard not to look at him.

“hm, i’m gonna put something on, sorry about that. feel free to sit on the couch, eat, whatever you want to do is fine”

“okay” you smiled, heading over to his living room. there was popcorn on the coffee table, the vhs tape on the table and there was a half filled dr pepper bottle on the floor. you thought it was sweet steve put this together, why aren’t you that mad at him anymore?

when he came back, he was wearing a old t shirt, stained with something that looked like ketchup. he was smelling good. had he put on perfume? god, you missed his smell.

“you wanna start now?” he asked, putting the tape in the vcr.

“maybe we should wait for robin, right?” you asked, fiddling with the hem of your skirt.

“she’s not coming. didn’t she tell you? she got caught up with something at work.”

“oh, right.” she didn’t tell you, and you were sure that was written all over your face.

“y/n?” he called.

“yeah?” you looked at him, your ears flushed.

“have you been avoiding me?” oh shit.

“what do you mean?” you decided to lie shamelessly was just the way to go.

“you know what i mean. you never go out with us anymore, and now i’ve just mentioned robin isnt coming, i realize its because of me.” oh shit.

“what?” you laugh anxiously. “no, i just wanna see the movie, its not like that.”

“stop it. you havent been able to look at me for weeks now and i dont get it. goddamn it! im your best friend!” he sighed, rubbing his eyes the way he did when he was nervous.

“steve, how could i possibly avoid you? you’re everywhere i look!” you blurt out, he was looking at you now. “you’re at my job, you’re near my house, you give me a ride home, you’re in my fucking friend group!”

“i just wanna know what i did, because i never meant to hurt you-“

“steve, stop it, you’re being mean.” you were looking at his hairline, not actually being able to see his eyes in that moment, you were about to do it. “you know how i feel about you and you always have.”

that was probably it, that was the death of the friendship.

“what?” he lowered his head, trying to get something out.

“you dont get to do this to me, okay? you don’t. not when you desperately flirted with me for months just to get a girlfriend. not when you tricked me into thinking that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same. not when i’ve been in love with you since middle school.” you felt like you just had a knife shoved into your stomach because of the way he looked at you. brows furrowed, eyes empathetic, but not looking at you directly.

“im going home.” you managed to get that out, with eyes watery and cheeks flushed. you got up, trying so hard not to look back at him, counting your steps to the door.

one,

two,

three,

four,

five,

six,

seven.

you felt a hand gripping your shoulder.

“stay.” he whispered.

“what?” you turned around, looking up at his hazel colored eyes.

“stay.” his hands were on your waist.

“okay.” you answer, looking directly into his dark pupils and that was probably it for you. someday this man might just kill you, your heart was beating faster than ever and you could feel your stomach knotting and knotting and knotting, it was so silly. you felt so incredibly silly.

until he pulled you in. until he was just a few centimeters away from your lips.

it all happened way too fast.

his lips were touching yours, his hands all over you. you ran your hands through his hair, your mouth parted as his tongue slides into your mouth, licking over yours. his hands on your waist.

your hand goes under his shirt and he felt so warm, until he pulls away. you look up at him, doe eyed and he smiles at you.

he doesn’t even have to say anything, and neither do you.

he takes you up to his room, his hand pressed against your lower back, leading you upstairs with the biggest smile on his face.

he opens the door for you, as you head in you notice he’s just looking at you, blushing and shifting from foot to foot. he gives you a look you had never seen before and it makes your heart pound faster than ever. you can’t bear to hide a smirk.

he stood still in the doorway, but he quickly steps forward once you go up to him and peck his lips, giving him a perfect view of your bra.

holy fucking shit.

then, like it didn’t drive you insane, you pull away, grinning at how he went forward with you.

you were sat at the edge of the, bed legs crossed and eyes observant as he locked his door.

with a speed that drives you crazy, steve lifts you and pulls you into his lap, so you’re straddling him. he does that so quickly, it makes you yelp once you land comfortably, instinctively grinding your hips down, making him groan, the low tone of his voice making heat shoot between your thighs.

“such a tease.” he was toying with the hem of your skirt. “this is hot.” he whispered, voice thick as he lays his left hand on your overexposed thigh.

you go over to kiss him again but stop in the middle of the way, liking the way he looked at you. you lift his hand, from the fabric of your skirt up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles. the action feels so intimate and sweet it makes him smile a bit (he also gets a bit hard but that’s not the point).

you look down at him from where your sat, eyelashes batting as you stop kissing his knuckles when he pulls his hand from you, slipping his fingers between yours and gripping your thigh with the spare hand. you kiss down his neck and he can’t stop thinking of how pretty you looked, really.

that shirt, that bralette he knew was under it.

its not fair you looked like that. he just couldn’t help himself at the sight of you.

his hands coast up your bare sides under the shirt, that made you shudder and rock a little in his lap, the relief of the friction ended suddenly as he grabd your hips and pins you down firmly onto him, so you can’t move.

it was useless to try to roll your hips, specially with his hold pinning you down.

he hums, hand sliding further up your top and squeezing just below your tit.

you can’t help but moan a little as he palms your skin, his voice low and thick as honey,

“you look like…” your head tips back at the feeling of his hands on you and he takes that as an opportunity to trail soft kisses along your neck “like you’re mine.” you mewl weakly as his hand cups your breast, his touch clouding up your brain.

“you’re mine, right?” you nod eagerly, pushing up against the hand tucked under your shirt. he clicks his tongue and rolls your sensitive bud between his fingers, “not an answer, hun.”

he had barely touched you and you’re already shaking, breathing heavily and face flushed.

he started kissing your neck, nipping at it.

“answer or you’re not cumming tonight.” the timbre of his voice was incredibly low once he said that, it made your eyes round and your hips buck into air.

“steve, yes, i’m yours. i’ll be so good, please.” you whined.

he squeezes your breast in approval, humming at the way your eyes shut when he touches you.

“good girl.” he lifts you up, manhandling you as you’re being laid down on the bed, his hand leaving you and making you whine. you can feel him moving downwards, trailing kisses down your neck, stomach, before arriving between your legs.

he chuckles ad you whines, trailing soft kisses down your body.

“don’t be greedy.” he looked up at you from where he’s kissing, the waistband of your skirt, eyes wide as he takes in your already fucked out and needy expression.

“my greedy girl” you nod at that, head tilted up as your back arches up a bit, his mouth still pressing messy kisses to the inside of your thighs, “practically begging for me, huh?”

he’s mocking you, nipping at your inner thighs, marking up anywhere except where you need him. his hands are gripping and rubbing soft circles into your thighs, feeling you go lax and needy under him.

“steveee” you say, blushing at how desperate you sound, “please.”

you feel him smile against your inner thigh, looking up at you, “what it is it, princess? can’t even speak and i’ve barely done anything to you, huh, so needy.” his head drops down as he sucks another hickey into you hip, “use you words.” you grind upwards and he pins your hips down, tutting. he looks at you expecting something and you know he wont give you shit until you beg for it.

“steve, please,” your voice tapers into broken whines as your hips move on their own accord, missing his mouth. “need you in me, please, i’ll be so good for you. need you so bad, please.”

“that’s all you had to say, baby.” with that, his fingers push the fabric of your skirt up, showing your lace panties. he groans at the sight.

“shit, you’re so pretty.” he presses a kiss to your clothed core, making you moan, “gonna fuck you with these on, okay?” you nod lazily, the feeling of steve mouthing over your panties makes speaking very difficult. he grins,

“so fucked out.” he flattens his tongue over you, pushing your panties aside as he swipes his tongue over to your wet heat, lapping from your slit to your swollen clit, “haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re practically soaking.”

your hand has gone to his hair, your grip tightens. he knows that your pouting at that, even if he’s not looking.

steve pushes your legs farther apart, pushing your thigh up slightly as he lapped messily at your pussy.

your hands are tugging on his hair, stirring him on as he flicks over your clit in quick strokes that leave your legs shaking around his head. he looks up at you, your head thrown back slightly, shirt hitched up showing your bralette. he reaches up with one hand, helping you take of the shirt.

once its off, he sees your lacy bralette fully, straps falling down as your back arches. it’s probably the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

he lifts your hips slightly, pressing two digits to your slick entrance, watching how you try and push against them, hips pinned down as you buck down mindlessly,

“steve!” you mewl, voice wrecked. he hums, flicking over your clit with his togue. “aw, doll, is that all you can say?” he gently fucks his fingers into your tight heat, feeling the way you clench around him as you let out another mewling main, legs thrown over his shoulders as he crooks his fingers upwards, pushing up against the sweet spot inside of you. your legs tighten on either side of his head, fingers fucking faster into you, “so fucked out, its cute.”

you blush red, eyes shut and lips parted in soft whines of his name. he liked the way you said it.

his fingers curl against your g-spot, fucking into you in tune with the quick movements of his tongue.

“fuck, steve, ju-just like that, please” he’s placing sloppy kisses over your clit, his fingers thrusting into you, picking up their pace as you clench around him, dripping over his hand.

“fuck, so pretty for me, baby” he groans as he kisses your clit, “such a pretty pussy, can’t wait to fuck you, gonna be so good for me, aren’t you?” he watches how you nod weakly between your choked moans of ‘yesyessteve’. you clench around him, his fingers fucking rapidly in and out of your cunt. you were just about to scream once he leaned forward, taking you clit in his mouth, lips latching the sensitive bud and sucking hard, fingers still curling up against your overworked spot as you grind upwards into his mouth and hand, his palm grinding against your entrance.

his fingers fuck into you fast and rough, his free hand reaching up to palm your breast through the fabric of your bra, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, bringing you closer to your climax.

“i’m gonna cum, oh my god, i’m gonna cum don’t stop please-“ you moaned as your words turned into mostly incoherent nonsense. your thighs were clenching around his head, your hands curling in his hair as he lapped at you clit, his fingers hooking against your heat, watching how you fell apart at his touch, hips bucking as you chased your high.

“steve- fuck- you’re so fucking good” you can barely finish a sentence, grinding against his mouth desperately.

he loves you like this, whimpering and so needy, talking through broken little whines. the way you’re begging has him working over you faster.

he groans, feeling the was you clench around him, your slick walls contracting around his digits,

“fuck, you like that, don’t you? being mine? only good for me, huh?” any coherent answers get lost in your pleas of yes, please. he chuckles, fucking his fingers harder into you.

“ohmygodsteve” you’re a moaning mess, legs spread wide and shaking, his tongue circling your clit after his hand dropped, gripping your hip to lift you up slightly, fingers fucking into you slightly deeper. you’re praising him breath;essay, making his fingers move faster, sucking harder on your clit. he looks up at you through his eyelashes, the sight of you making him impossibly hard as he ground his hips into the mattress, taking in the way your head was tipped back, how your mouth was parted in soft moans of his name, how your fingers are gripped at his hair, grinding into his mouth and hand.

“aw, are you gonna cum already?” you nod as best as you can, his fingers are moving roughly in you, pulling you towards your finish. you try to hold off when he murmurs, flicking your clit with his tongue.

“cum for me, let me feel you squeeze my fingers with that thigh pussy.” you cum hard on his tongue, his digits still fucking into you, drawing you out of it. your climax crashes over you in waves, the feeling of being fucked open when you came making you whine.

you’re whimpering as he pulls his fingers out of you. steve reaches up and pins your legs up to your chest, kissing you hard and rough. he nips ate your lips and murmurs,

“still need me, baby?” he’s rubbing your cheeks and you can’t help but push against his touch. your voice is broken and whinny,

“yes, please, need you so bad.” he kisses you again and you can feel his hair brushing over your face,

“good fucking girl.” you practically preen from his praise, as he sits up, taking off his shirt and lowering his sweatpants, he takes a moment to dip his hand below his waistband to palm himself through his boxers,

“fuck, need you so bad,” you whine in response, as he pushes is boxers down, his erection hitting up against his stomach. you moan then, seeing him stroke his cock at the sight of you, he chuckles, running his hand down his shaft at the way you’re whining for him.

“needy little slut, aren’t you?” you feel the blunt head of his cock nudge against your slick entrance as he lines himself up to you.

“your needy little slut” you say, grinding against his tip, your slick coating him. he looks down at you with hooded eyes, his voice low as he presses himself closer to you, stretching your cunt around him.

“of course you are” he’s spreading your legs and kissing you. he rocks his hips forward, not fucking you, but enough to make you moan, “tell me if you want to stop, okay?” with that, he pushes into you.

pushing his thick length into you in one stroke, the sudden stretch making you moan breathlessly. he groans into the crook of your neck, biting down on that soft spot,

“still so tight” he wastes no time starting to ove, shallowly rolling his hips up to you. “fuck, feels so fucking good” he kisses your neck, cooing at you. “pretty girl, look at you, taking it like such a good little slut.” he’s pulling your bra down, the flimsy lace pushed back. he fucks you harder, your tits bouncing with each hard thrust into you. you’re moaning lewdly as he thrusted forward, his cock stretching you open. it feels so good, the feeling of him filling you up. you cried out and gripped at his arms, each hard thrust fucking you into the mattress.

“fuck, steve, harder” he cocks an eyebrow, then pulls out to the tip, you whine at the lost.

“you asked for it, doll” he thrusts forward roughly, filling you up with his cock, you feel him even deeper this time, the press of him against your walls making you whine louder as he thrusted harder. “can you take this?” he fucks into you rapidly, mocking you, pushing you against the headboard. “you said you wanted it harder, didn’t you?”

your cheeks burn at the way he degrades your his relentless thrusts making the heat in your abdomen start to build. you’re moaning soft chants of ‘yes, please and steve’, babbling nonsensically through your moans. his thrusts are hard and deep, pushing against your walls, filling you in perfectly.

the rapid slap of skins fills the room as his hips pick up pace, slamming against yours with each thrust, the base of his cock grinding at your clit, the friction making you moan.

“fuck, taking me so well” he’s kissing your neck and playing with your tits, “you were made for me” he groans.

“oh my god” you moan as his cock pushes into you faster, the brutal snap of his hips making you cry out, you start babbling again, chasing your high. he feels so good inside of you, the roll of his hips bringing you closer to the edge.

he can tell you’re close, from the way your hips have started bucking upwards excitedly, grinding on his cock, the way your hands are gripping the nape of his neck. you yelp as he throws your legs over his shoulders, fucking you deeper as he angles his dick perfectly against your g-spot, ramming against it with every thrust.

“please, need it so bad” you beg, steve hums, his pace unflattering as he pounds into you,

“need what, baby?”

“need to cum” your voice sounds destroyed, “please-! please, need you to make me cum, steve” he grins, grabs your hips and lifts you up, fucking into you faster than before.

“only i can do this, huh?”

“you! only you, steve!” you moan out, trying desperately to press yourself against his his harsh hursts. you clamped around him as you felt your high building again. he must’ve felt it, reaching down between you two and pinching your clit, thrusts getting faster as you cried out.

“i want you to cum” he says, fucking you onto his cock, “cum on my cock like the good girl you are.”

his thumb rubs your clit faster, moving in time with his rapid thrusts, hips pistoling into you, fucking you hard as you came with a loud cry of his name, this one harder than the last. walls clenched hard around him as you gripped the back of his neck. seeing you, head thrown back in ecstasy, face screwed up in pleasure as you cry out his name, has him groaning. head dropped into the crook of your neck as his thrusts get faster and sharper, the overstimulation drawing out high keening noises from your throat, his cock nudging against your cervix as he spills inside of you.

“fuck, so good for me, honey” he kisses your shoulder. “such a good girl” he murmurs. he pulls out slowly and takes you in his arms, laying you down.

he starts getting up and you tug gently at his wrist. he kisses your forehead smiling.

“don’t worry, i’m just gonna get some things in the bathroom”

when he gets back, he throws you an old shirt, which you quickly put on.

“i can go, if you want to.” you mutter, looking down at your hands.

“what? no, are you crazy? stay. come on, lets watch that movie” he smiles at you, opening the tissue case.

“okay, i will then.” you couldn’t help but smile.

“hey, about that thing you said earlier” he looked into your eyes. “i love you too.”

tag: @nix-rose

406 notes · View notes

half-oz-eddie · 7 months

Text

“Billy, Billy, Billy, why won’t he leave my mind?!” Steve grabbed his hair, groaning in frustration. “It’s like his eyes are burned into my mind it-it makes me sick.”

“Love sick?” Robin sneered.

“No! No!” He frantically replied. “ Why would you even say that?”

“Because, dingus, you’re thinking about another guy an abnormal amount—”

“It’s—It’s just…he…aggravates me, y’know?”

“Uh…huh.” Robin nodded slowly, making her skepticism evident.

Steve sighed loudly as Robin tried to contain a soft chuckle.

“What do you think it means?” Steve asked her.

“It means you like him.”

“I don’t—I don’t like him—I-I-I don’t even like guys! I like girls! I like y’know, jiggly boobs a-and vagina—”

“I’m very convinced.” She responded flatly. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with having a crush—“

“On a guy I hate? That hates me? You can’t like someone you hate!”

“Oh, Steve, it’s very possible for the heart to have love and hate for someone at the same time.”

“How?”

“You make room.”

“Well, I don’t have any room in my heart for a guy like Billy Hargrove, with his stupid blonde hair, or that—that cologne he uses that smells soft and pretty like perfume, or those beady blue eyes that feel like they’re staring into my soul—okay maybe I have a little room.” He eventually confessed.

“Told you. Wanna find out if Billy’s heart has room too?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll pass—hey, what the hell’re you doing?!” He questioned as Robin picked up his phone and dialed Dustin.

“Steveee!” Dustin beamed.

“Nope, it’s Robin.”

“Oh, hey, what’s up?”

“Can you do me a favor and call Max’s house for me?”

“Uh…sure. One sec.”

Dustin three-way called Max’s house, and Billy picked up the phone on the third ring.

“Hargrove residence.” He answered in a forced, polite voice.

“Hi, is this Billy Hargrove?”

“Yeah, who’s calling?”

“I’m calling from…the free dinners club! You won an all expenses paid dinner at Enzo’s tomorrow at 8PM!”

“Free food?” Billy scoffed. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch! Just show up on time and you’ll be escorted to a table and treated to anything you want.”

Billy chuckled. “That’s pretty cool. I guess I’ll be there.”

“Great! Congratulations!”

Billy hung up, and Steve couldn’t stop glaring at Robin, shooting daggers at her with his eyes, mouthing that he was going to kick her out of his house.

“Still there, Dustin?”

“Yyyeah…? What was that about?”

“Nothing. You’re too young to understand. Bye, kid!” She abruptly ended the call and returned her focus to Steve. “See how easy that was?”

“How easy—you just scammed him!” Steve exclaimed in utter disbelief.

“I didn’t! You’re gonna buy him dinner tomorrow.”

“You told him he won an all expenses paid dinner from some free dinner club!”

“He did! You’re the club!”

“Oh my god, I cannot believe this shit!” He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Believe it, dingus. Now let’s pick out something nice for you to wear for your date tomorrow.”

—

Robin tried to sway Steve into wearing a suit, but he refused to make a fool out of himself, especially in a goddamn suit.

He already knew how Hargrove was gonna react. He’d huff, insult Steve, probably call him a slur and then flip him off before storming out of the restaurant.

Every time that scenario played in Steve’s head, his stomach twisted in knots.

But there was still that…sliver of hope that things could possibly go well.

Either way, Steve’s stomach was in knots.

“You look like you’re gonna puke.” Robin noticed, her brows furrowed with worry.

“I’m not!” He answered in a snippy tone. “I’m fine.”

“Just relax. It’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Who doesn’t like a free meal?”

—

Billy arrived at the restaurant at 7:55, and Steve walked in seconds later, finding the confused blonde standing by the door.

“The hell’re you doing here, amigo? Got a date?”

“Well—not exact—“

“You here for the free dinner’s club thing too, then? I got a call to come here tonight at 8 for a free meal.”

“Yeah…I…I’m the…free meal.”

Billy wrinkled his nose at Steve. “What’re you talking about, Harrington?”

Steve sighed, obvious shame in his eyes. “There is no…free dinner’s club. Robin set this whole thing up.”

Billy blinked a few times. “Who is Robin?”

“You know, the girl in the school band?”

“No?”

“Trumpet player? Short hair? Sarcastic?”

“Okay...maybe? I don't really remember."

"A-Anyway. Robin set this up to kinda…push us on a date.”

“A date?”

“Yeah—sorry—it was really stupid of her—“

“What compelled her to do something like that? You wanted to go on a date with me?” Billy smiled cheekily. “You like me, Steve?”

“I—shut up!” Steve turned red.

“I still want my free dinner.” Billy crossed his arms, staring at Steve expectantly.

“Not a problem. Let’s…grab a table.”

Halfway through the meal, Steve was pretty sure Billy was only doing this for the free food—the most expensive food he could get.

He ordered oysters, steak and lobster, some overpriced wine—it was so painfully expensive, but Steve probably deserved this dent in his wallet after going along with Robin’s scheme.

“You sure know how to treat a guy, Harrington.” Billy smiled—this time soft, prettier than usual. “Is there gonna be a second date?”

“W—you really want to? You like me too?”

Billy shrugged. “You’re okay.”

Steve chuckled. “You’re just pullin’ my leg, right?”

“Yeah.” Billy laughed. “I think you’re cute. Next time, I pick the place, okay? Fancy restaurants like this aren’t exactly my scene.”

“Deal. What did you have in mind?”

“The backseat of my Camaro.” Billy winked.

“Oh—you-you mean now?” Steve paid the check in a hurry and they rushed off to Billy’s Camaro.

Seems like Billy had room in his heart, after all.

✨✨✨✨

A silly little thing for some friends to enjoy

@dragonflylady77 @brightside-of-the-upsidedown @shieldofiron

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fanfiction #robin buckley #dustin henderson #ivy.doc

154 notes · View notes

ssweetleaf · 11 months

Note

ik it sounds so unlike her but i need a ghostface robin to act silly and goofy while shes ruining me down there and holding a knife to my throat

woah, never knew i needed this 😻

SMUT under the cut

*ੈ‧₊˚

Cool metal was pressed against your throat, the sharp blade glistening with every heave of your chest— any wrong move and your neck would be sliced open, and the hand that held the knife went down, down, down, to a woman with a mask halfway up her forehead and two fingers stuffed inside your cunt.

That woman was in fact your roommate— and with the countless deaths that had occurred around Hawkins, you knew entirely that it had been her.

So why were you dripping onto her hand? Why were you whining when the curl of her fingers slowed?

Why were you enjoying it?

“I always had a thing for you, baby—” she sighed, irises morphing into heart shapes and a love-sick smile twisted her lips. “made me so jealous when you’d bring people home- I’d hear you, honey, they just can’t satisfy you the way I can, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t answer— you couldn’t answer, fear pumping through your veins along with the satisfaction of being filled to the brim, an odd concoction that had your mind fogging and eyes rolling back.

“I said—” she cooed, a little too prettily, grin all wide and toothy, fist clenching even tighter around the knife and pressing it further against your throat, the tip even managing to catch your skin and slice you a little. “Isn’t. That. Right?”

You nodded for her, for you too, for her to go easy on you and for you to get out of this alive. Though is that what you really wanted?

“Good girl.” Robin’s pace fastened, curling the tips of her fingers against that spongy spot so deep inside, nearly causing you to drool, and her eyes flicked down to your throat, watching as a little trickle of blood slid down your skin and pooled in the junction of your neck.

She pouted, exaggerated and a little mocking, and she nuzzled her nose against your chin before pressing a fat, wet kiss to your cheek.

“Oh, baby, look what you made me do—” she clicked her tongue, pout still prominent, “silly girl, made me cut you.”

You cried out, the rope at the pit of your stomach tightening, tightening, tightening— so ready to snap, the need to cum overwhelming you, each of your senses on complete overload.

“M’sorry, honey— I’ll make it up to you, promise.” She smiled at you, “after all, we’re gonna be together forever. Robin and her pretty girl, hm?”

#☆彡my asks #⋆⋆☆bee’s hc #robin buckley hc #robin buckley blurb #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley smut #robin buckley headcanon #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fic #robin buckley x y/n

267 notes · View notes

upsidedownwithsteve · 1 year

Note

hey emmy, i hope you’re having the best day!

maybe a blurb about modern!eddie being forced to go to a taylor swift concert with reader, even though it doesn’t fit his super cool, edgy, metal vibe?

love all your work, smooches

You knew that the majority of the crowd was made up of girls. Screaming girls, actually. Dressed in glitter and sequins, red lipstick and hidden wine bottles in their platform boots. But Eddie seemed enraptured by it all, sticking out like a pretty sore thumb in the chaos of it, all shades of black in a sea of colour.

He held your hand with a renewed tightness, clinging to you tightly as you manoeuvred you both into a position where you could see the stage, but you weren’t crushed between eager fans. The arena was already filling up, the overhead music barely noticeable under the din of a thousand conversations. The girl next to you was already crying, mascara streaked, tiny gold stars leaking down her cheeks. Eddie was staring.

“Hey, stop,” you told him, nudging at his ribs with your elbow. “You’re being rude.”

“I’m concerned,” he said in response, leaning down to talk into your ear, his lips just touching the shell of it, his hand curled over your hip bone. “I knew this would be mental, but this— this is unreal.”

You sympathised, taking in his wide eyes and parted lips as he surveyed the crowd, groups of friends making tiktoks on the outskirts, people screaming at the sound guys on stage, asking the man who was fixing a lighting rig where Taylor was.

“Thank you,” you said for the eighteenth time that day, “for coming with me, you didn’t have to.” You smiled, warm and fond. “I appreciate it, Eddie.”

Nancy had been struck down with a sickness bug only hours before you were due to meet her in town, both of you planning to grab some food before jumping on the subway to the arena. She’d apologised profusely between throwing up, her texts littered with rare spelling errors as her hands shook with the fever that had come on so quickly.

Robin was adamant about looking after Nancy, Jonathan was out of town with Argyle, Steve laughed and said absolutely not and Max was on holiday with El and Hopper, some camping trip in the middle of god knows where. You didn’t ask the boys, you didn’t want to waste your breath. And then Eddie texted you, with a screenshot from Robin telling him his friend needed a date along with the words: “what time will I pick you up? :)”

The boy shrugged, smiling right back. “Couldn’t have you all alone.”

You made a face, because although you wouldn’t have loved standing on your own for a concert you’d paid far too much money for… you knew this wasn’t Eddie’s kinda scene. You told him as such and he grinned, nose scrunching as he avoided the eye contact of a girl who was taking way too much interest in him

“S’fine,” he said, “I know some songs, I can scream along.”

“Oh yeah?” You raised your brows, amused.

Eddie scoffed, shuffling closer as more people filled up the floor space, edging towards the stage. “You kiddin’? A little Lover? Anti-hero? I’m down with the kids.”

A crowd of newcomers surged past you as you laughed and you winced as your shoulder got knocked by someone’s bag, no doubt crammed with glass bottles of the alcohol they weren’t supposed to have. Eddie tutted, taking you gently by your wrist until he coaxed you to stand in front of him, your back to his chest. You felt a little more safe there, his solid warmth a protective wall behind you. His hands ghosted over the dip in your waist before they dropped again, like he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

You looked up, head on his chest and you grinned your appreciation.

The boy looked like he was blushing, cheeks a little pink and lips twisted to his the smile that was threatening to break out. Despite the leather jacket, the ripped denim and all the chains, Eddie Munson still looked like the softest boy there.

“Can you see okay?” He asked, bending down to you again so you could hear. He smelled like the aftershave he always wore, like smoke and spice. “You good?”

You nodded, pleased at his closeness, all the attention he was giving you and god, this was starting to feel a little more like a date, despite the other few thousand people around you both. “Yeah, I’m all good.”

Eddie nodded, “good. Maybe to make up for it, you can come with me to see one of my favourite bands.” His smile was teasing, but his words and his eyes seemed hesitant, like he was asking a question he wasn’t sure of the answer to.

You turned, still close to the boy, toe to toe and you tilted your chin up to beam at him. “Yeah?” You asked, pleased at the idea of another outing with just Eddie. Most of the time, you saw him with the rest of the group, too busy catching up with Robin and letting Will show you his new art pieces to talk to the person you wanted to most. “I can do that.”

Eddie blinked, surprised but grinning all the same. “Yeah?” He asked back. “Rammstein is playing in Chicago next month.”

You squinted at him, familiar with the name. “Is that the German guys who sound kinda demonic?”

The boy looked proud. “That’s the one, sweetheart.” He half expected to you to firmly, but politely, turn him down. German heavy metal was most definitely not your kind of music. But then again, Taylor Swift wasn’t really his either, and here he was.

“Will you take me to dinner first?” You said instead and Eddie’s heart stuttered.

Warmth bloomed in his chest, a heat that crept up across his neck and cheeks and he swallowed, nervous. “Dinner? Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.”

He could most definitely do that.

“Great,” you beamed again, eyes bright and a flush to your cheeks that made him think you were as happy as he was at this outcome. “It’s a date.”

Eddie didn’t have time to reply to that, ‘cause the crowd started screaming and Taylor Swift came out on stage, the opening chords of Love Story ringing through the arena. You turned, clapping along with the rest of the girls around you, your body firmly pressed to Eddie’s and by the third song, his arms were around your shoulders, his hands tangled between yours as he tried his best to sing along to the songs he knew through the grin that wouldn’t leave his lips.

...

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie baby blurb

353 notes · View notes

frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

Text

i'm outta my head over you (Pt. 2)

Prologue (Pt. 1) | On AO3 here: i'm outta my head over you | the playlist

Pt 2 to my @steddie-week 2023 entry! this is really the 'first day' entry, but pt. 1 is the prologue :P

today's prompt is: pining

Eddie takes his time after Robin leaves. Finishing the cigarette she made him put out and doing his best to focus on the tune he was expirimenting with on his acoustic before he was interrupted. The curiosity gets the best of him though (of course) and he sets his guitar back down, picking up the papers Robin had handed to him.

He starts to read what he had (correctly) thought was a tracklist.

'Heartbeat? Okay, so it's a sappy love playlist.' He thinks to himself. "The hell's that got to do with me?" he asks aloud to no one.

There's a slightly lighter colored scrawl of "Dustin doctor FRIDAY at 3" written into the top margin of this scanned page, like someone had used a different color pen than the rest of the book, and continuing on--

Oh fuck.

Oh shit.

Eddie reads the first sentence, and he suddenly feels like he's going into cardiac arrest.

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

Looking back, Steve counts himself insanely lucky that it was Nancy he was dating when he first really noticed Eddie Munson.

Of course, he’d noticed the older boy before, it was hard not to, but the first time he really looked at him, really saw him…he wanted to throw up.

He was actually really pretty. Wait, can a guy be pretty? It doesn’t matter. Eddie is.

His hair is dark and curly, some curls licking down his face and swirling over his cheekbones, some curling up behind his ears. If it was straight, his hair would definitely look like an overgrown bowlcut. Fuck, it looked soft.

Eddie’s a year above him, a Senior, so it kind of makes sense that he’s a bit broader than Steve is..wait, is he? Or is it just that vest he’s wearing, making him look bigger…

His eyes are dark, brows furrowed, lips yanked back in a snarl–oh yeah, he was in the middle of telling someone off. That’s what called Steve’s attention to him.

“Steve? Are you okay?”

He wrenches his eyes from the side of Eddie’s face to look down at Nancy. He locks eyes with her and was when he noticed how hard his heart was beating.

That, and the fact her eyes were the wrong color.

‘Wrong color?? The hell? They’re blue, they’ve always been blue.’

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Nance.” Steve looks back up at Eddie. “He’s kinda scary isn’t he. Should I do something?”

“Steve–”

He doesn’t wait for her answer, and approaches Eddie and whoever it is that earned his tirade.

Steve pushes through the gathered crowd, right next to Eddie’s victim. “What’s happening here, guys?” Steve’s snarky ‘King Steve’ smile appears easily on his face, then he notices who he came in next to. “Tommy? What’re you doing man?”

“Oh you know, the usual.” Tommy’s grin makes Steve sick to his stomach. He looks away, down to the empty plastic fountain pop in his hand.

“The usual, huh?” Steve scoffs, turning to Eddie.

Mistake. Mistake!

Eddie’s dark eyes lock with his and Steve feels weak in the knees ‘ What the hell?? ’

“Welcome to the show, my liege!” Eddie bows low, and Steve sees the short kid that was hiding behind him. Must be a freshman, huge, panicked eyes stare at him under a mass of poofy curly hair (lighter than Eddie’s). An oversized red plaid flannel is resting on his shoulders, and a large dark stain coats his shirt beneath. Ah.

Eddie straightens, and the little freshman is obscured again. That’s when he realizes the denim vest Eddie is wearing is all he’s wearing above the waist. Steve’s stomach twists pleasantly at the sight of Eddie’s pale skin. ‘ What. The. Fuck. Don’t turn red, look away, look away!! ’

Steve locks eyes with Eddie once again, and it’s not much better. Fuck, those eyes…

What the hell is happening to him?? His heart’s beating like crazy. He glances over, and Nancy and her ginger friend with the glasses are watching, twin looks of panic and disgust on their faces.

“Munson here was just introducing me to one of our new little friends!” Tommy’s tone makes Steve’s stomach twist unpleasantly.

“Really Tommy, a freshman? How cliché can you get? Leave the kid alone, man.”

“Really Dude?” Tommy mocks, “What’s it to you? That girl’s making you slip, man.”

It’s not entirely false; it is true that Nancy’s made it easier to get out from behind his King Steve self more often than not, but there was always a part of him that wanted to be better.

Steve just shrugs. “No more messing with the freshmen, Tommy. Show’s over, assholes, get out of here!” he yells over the crowd as he turns his back on his friend’s(?) sputtering face. Facing Eddie again, he asks, “Sorry, Munson, your friend okay?”

Ugh. Even he cringes inwardly at how insincere that sounded. How’d that come out so wrong?

Eddie just gives him a look, and shakes his head, “C’mon Gareth,” he wraps a long arm around the kid behind him while still shielding him from view. “Our benevolent ruler has allowed us to leave unharmed; let’s abscond before he changes his mind.” Eddie shoots Steve another glare over his shoulder and disappears into the dispersing crowd of students.

Nancy and her friend stay behind. Barb. Her name is Barb.

Barb says something to Nancy, and when she nods in return, Barb leaves for her next class.

Nancy moves to step up to his side again, but he’s whirled around and Tommy’s in his face.

“What the fuck is your deal, Harrington?”

Steve shoves him back, “I already fuckin’ told you. Leave the freshmen alone.”

It’s not a lot, he knows Tommy’s going to over-correct and start berating the sophomore class relentlessly, but that kid looked so scared.. Fuck, he’s a coward.

“You’re going soft, Harrington.” Tommy shoulder checks him as he walks past him and past Nancy, who gives him a wide berth.

“Sorry, Nance.” he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

She levels him with a look. “What was with you and that senior?”

“Nothing, nothing!” he holds his hands up in surrender.

The look on her face says she doesn’t believe him.

Not that much longer after that, she knows he wasn’t telling the truth. After getting beaten up by Jonathan Byers, Barb going missing from his backyard, almost dying…his whole world being turned upside-down (hah), he deserves to tell someone the truth about his not crush on Eddie Munson…

He asks her “Munson’s pretty right? I mean, for a guy.”

“Do you think he’s pretty, Steve?” she asks in lieu of a response, soft tone and smile letting him know he’s okay to talk to her about it.

His stomach twists, he wants to throw up. He still really likes Nancy, still likes girls, why does he feel all gooey about a guy ? About Eddie ?

“I don’t know, Steve.” She says. Oh shit, he said that out loud. “But it’s okay that you do, you know. I won’t see you any differently.”

The knot in his stomach loosens slightly.

She looks down at her hands where they’re folded in her lap. “It’d be hypocritical of me if I did.”

Steve hugs her then. They stay together, they’re just fine…until they’re not.

They drift apart after that. They hang on for a while, they do care for each other afterall, but everything falls apart at that damn Halloween party.

Steve doesn’t blame her, not fully. Especially when he’s been not so subtly mooning after someone else (Nancy smiles knowingly at him every time she catches him staring at Eddie across the hall or across the cafeteria), and especially not after as much as she’s had to drink.

She’s right to call their relationship bullshit, even if it stings, because it kinda was. Him pining hopelessly after some guy, but still desperately trying to hold onto what he thinks he needs to do while doing so.

Trying to hold onto the future that he’s expected to have. A wife, a house with a picket fence, two kids. All that.

Nancy starts dating Jonathan, and Steve’s happy for them, really, but even he doesn’t know how okay he actually is until he’s jumped in Reefer Rick’s boathouse.

There’s a forearm across his chest, an elbow digging into his right shoulder, a hip pressed to his own, another face only inches away, and he’s head over fucking heels.

Those dark eyes that haunted him in the halls of Hawkins High are suddenly so close he can see just how rich a brown they really are, even around the sheer panic in their forefront.

The dark curls that Steve wanted to wrap around his fingers three years ago are longer, more full, down to Eddie’s shoulders now, though dirty and matted in some places from his time on the run.

If there wasn’t a broken glass bottle pressed to his neck right now, he’d be fully tempted to just plant one on the other man. Instead, Steve stays perfectly still, echoing anything Dustin says that might get the sharp glass away from his jugular.

Eddie’s eventually convinced to let Steve go, but somehow keeps hold of his heart. Metaphorically wrenching it from Steve’s chest and tucking it away into an inner pocket of his leather jacket.

‘This is the literal worst time for this shit, Harrington, pull yourself together.’ Steve chides himself as he catches his breath. ‘Save him. Get him out of this first, THEN you can worry about your feelings for him.’

Awesome, great plan.

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

Ok.

Yep.

This is a thing that is happening to him today.

The tape in his hand, the messy scrawled notes that were so lovingly delivered to him, were made by Steve "The Hair" Harrington about him, Eddie "The Freak" Munson.

He must've died back there in the upside down. This is not real.

How has Steve been pining for him for that long? Especially if that first entry is true, all the way back when now-about-to-go-into-Senior-year Gareth had just started at Hawkins High??

Eddie stops himself from reading the rest of Steve's (Steve's!!) handwriting to dash inside to the phone. The rest of this deserves to be read with the tape playing anyway.

First things first: "Robin! Birdie, Buckley, best woman in the world!" he yells, vibrating where he stands with the phone against his ear.

"Munson. To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asks, infuriatingly nonchalant.

"You know damn well why I'm calling. This is Steve's tape?" He's only slightly embarrassed by the anxious squeak that comes out of him when he says Steve's name.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Robin says, then promptly hangs up on him.

Part 3!

yes, i did in fact use my own handwriting as steve's :o)

#steddie #steddieweek2023 #steddie week 2023 #steve harrington #eddie munson #pining #mixtape #songfic #(kinda)#st #st fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington x eddie munson #robin buckley #noelle writes

264 notes · View notes

zoros-bandana · 1 year

Note

Hi Dove! I’m so happy that ur requests are open!!! So may I please request angst to fluff with Sanji where reader (female please) and Sanji had a fight about something (you can choose and they are together) and then the next day they were ambushed by the marines, reader saw that there was a marine about to creep up to Sanji and she took the hit for Sanji, it was kind of a big slash to the stomach and reader fainted after a while because of the loss of blood and Sanji got angry and began fighting more aggresively? Timeskip after the whole thing Chopper patches up the reader but Chopper said its gonna leave a scar on her body (specifically the stomach). Sanji felt so guilty and keeps apologizing to the reader and reader said that its okay and some other comforting words to Sanji and eventually also says sorry about the fight they had the day before. In the end Sanji takes care of the reader while she recovers. Thank you!!

Sour

(SFW)

Slight angst/slight fluff

Warning: mention of relationship fighting, mention of physical fighting, mention of blood, mention of wound

Summary: Sanji's drifting eye had froze the minute he saw you, however, when it returned, it became a rude awakening. Ending you both in a turn of anguish and hurt.

Word Count: 1,800

Your relationship with Sanji was effortless.

He was kind, as he was with any female he encountered, but with you it was something different. From the moment you joined the Straw Hats there was a sense of relief around him, freeing your once twisted past like loose ends, breaking free of what weighed you down.

And for Sanji it was mutual.

He acted differently.

The once love-sick cook had no longer any desire for anybody besides you, confusing the rest of the crew. He no longer ran after Nami or Robin, simply treating them like he did with the rest of the crew; competent and helpful. His spare time would be swooning over you and granting your every wish, making his priorities realign to appease his girl.

Nothing was too big or too small for him.

That was why, as you docked onto the island of Goruden for supplies, your relationship turned an unexpected sour.

It was a beautiful island, full of warmth and depth, casting every inch of the land in a glow from the sun. And much like the land itself, the people were just as beautiful.

You had taken off with Sanji in tow, heading towards the markets for a restock of food and drinks; a few crew mates tagging along with the hopes of promised luxuries. Upon your search, Sanji's gaze had drifted, taken aback by a tall women with long vibrant blonde hair. Her skin glistened like bronze, covered in a set of orange fabric that draped carefully over her curves. Her face was soft, kind, blushing a smile that drew you in with the faint tickle of her laugh.

Sanji reluctantly let go of your hand, for mere moments, assisting the women as he struggled to hold her basket of overflowing fruits. The sickening crack in Sanji's voice returned, knowing he was in awe of the women in front of him. Feeling betrayed by his actions, you retreated back into the group, shielding yourself from your boyfriend. Your whole body felt heavy, almost on the verge of fainting, fighting the urge to snap at him. You never imagined he would fall back to his old ways, only ever hearing stories of his behaviour, trusting your relationship was stronger than his urges.

But you were wrong.

You kept your distance from Sanji, walking a few steps ahead, clinging onto Zoro and Luffy; knowing it would annoy him the most. His voice continued to ring out to you, over and over, attempting to apologise for his misbehaviour. His stomach tied in knots the moment he realised what he had done, almost in a trance by her aura, unbeknown he was doing it until it was too late. The look on your face as he watched you sink further behind the swordsman broke his heart. He never wished to hurt you, knowing how deeply your trust for him ran, and how devastatingly hard it was for you to trust someone again.

This game of avoidance continued through the day, carrying into the late hours of the night aboard the ship. It was agreed to venture in the morning, leaving the island, giving into the night to rest; sleeping apart from your usual shared bed with Sanji.

Sanji did, however, continue bombarding you with displays of love, hoping to persuade you to come back to him, but his efforts were met short. You had watch the man you love fall back on his estranged love-struck patterns he promised were behind him, making your mind up to sit in the loathing bitterness of your hurt.

Word quickly spread of a pirates arrival to the island, prompting a worried call for marines to surround the ship early into the hours of the morning. It was a heavy blow, drunkenly guiding yourself to the deck just before sunrise, watching your friends already mid battle. Heavy clatters of swords and fired bullets rumbled your hearing, quickly snapping into action to join in the weave of intense crowd to defend your honoured ship.

A sharp snap of blond hair and fire shifted your attention, recognising Sanji's perfectly poised mannerism even in the midst of a fight. Meeting his bright blue eyes you exchanged a silent word, both relieved of each others safety in that moment; still bearing love for one another. Distracted for mere moments, Sanji's position became vulnerable, letting an open on his left switch your attention to the sword coming down towards him.

Your overall skill of endurance surpassed the likes of your boyfriend, quickening your reflexes for a perfect wing of defence to your crew. Snapping into action you took off, racing against the wielded marine to reach the still unsuspecting Sanji.

As you collided with the marine, you disarmed him with a few simple manoeuvres, relieved of your quick defences. He hit the deck in front of you, instantly passing out from the blow which deemed unusually large for someone of your size.

Dusting yourself off you looked back at Sanji, furrowing your brow upon his sickened look.

Sanji's eyes casted at your stomach, his face a ghostly white, mumbling out your name as he grasped your arm tightly. You followed his eyes to your stomach, noticing the large gash that spanned over your full abdomen, seeping through a heavy brown as blood oozed from your wound. Dazed in shock you zoned out, feeling your body shake into the likes of a collapse. You could still feel Sanji near you, his body inching closer in worry, his hands in the stage of lifting you into his arms. Fluttering your eyes you tried to mumble out your confusion, not grasping how the marine managed to reach you in time to cause such a heavy injury. However, your efforts were met short, your body giving in under the loss of blood and soon passing out in Sanji’s arms.

You awoke groggily on your back, fluttering up at the familiar ceiling of the infirmary. Your body rose in a searing pain, targeting your tightly bandaged abdomen, forcing you to groan out. Your voice prompted the answer of two voices, those of people you recognised well, turning your head towards the sounds.

Chopper and Sanji sat by your side, both exchanging a mixed look of relief and joy, leaning in towards your groggy state.

“You’re awake” Sanji smiled, reaching out towards your hand. “I’m so glad to see your face again. You’ve been out of it for a while, we were getting worried”

Squeezing gently you slid your hand in his, intertwining your fingers. It felt almost impossible to speak, your pain heaving heavy gasps for air as you tried to make sense of what was happening around you.

“Everyone else is okay, Y/n” Chopper encouraged, checking over your IV lines; prompted by your obvious pained state. “You just worry about getting better. That wound is pretty deep and it will leave a scar, so don’t move around too much while it heals”

Turning around to face Sanji, Chopper toughened his voice, raising it to make him seem bigger. “You make sure she stays safe, okay? And follow everything I told you earlier! She needs to keep still as much as she can”

“You don’t have to worry about her, Chopper, I'll look after her. There should be some cake up in the kitchen for your efforts, go and help yourself for helping my sweet Y/n-swan”

Chopper squealed in excitement, quickly running towards the door in a flash on fur. As his body hit the deck his voice was followed by the usual kitchen thief’s; Luffy and Usopp.

Returning his attention back to you, Sanji’s face softened, lowering his head to avoid your face in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should’ve been there to protect you, to help defend you against that deranged marine. Someone who has the audacity to lay a hand on a women, especially someone like you, truely deserves the worst possibly death”

“I’m also sorry about our fight; about how I acted” Sanji looked back up then. “I need you to know I never meant to hurt you or betray your trust. I helped her because I could never turn my back on a lady in need, and in those few moments even though my attention was on her, all I could think about was you. Her basket carried all your favourite fruits, down to the loose handful of grapes that I know you would happily fight our captain for. The crease beside her eyes when she smiled at me was something reminiscent of how you look at me when I make you laugh. Her hair was curled just the way that your hair does in the morning, framing your face when you look at me. There will never be a moment when I don’t think about you and how much you mean to me. You are my girl, Y/n, and nothing is going to take that away from you”

Fighting against your body you pushed yourself up, ignoring Sanji's protest to rest, moving to sit upright; the stack of pillows behind you cushion your fallback. You cleared you throat promptly, ignoring the surging sting as you coughed, busting enough strength to speak.

"I'm sorry, too"

You voice broke in a quiet groan.

"What are you talking about, Y/n? You didn't do an-"

"I'm sorry for the way I handled seeing you with somebody else. I know you, it feels like I have done more than this lifetime, and your hearty intentions to be kind to women. I know you wouldn't do anything to jeopardise our relationship, and I'm sorry I felt the need to avoid your apology. I was hurt, and too stuck in my own feelings to face this problem, because when I see you I see someone who I don't wish to lose"

"You will never lose me, okay?" Sanji promised, moving himself to sit beside you on the bed. He leaned forward over your body, his hand resting beside you, face inches from your own. "I'm not going anywhere, my love. I will be here for you through good and bad and nobody will ever come between us, no matter how many loose grapes are in their basket"

Sanji swiftly moved to you, sweeping you up in a soft kiss. His lips were always the perfect mould, curling against you in the most plump and soft folds, feeling somewhat like heaven. His taste remained the same, lingers of smoke dancing on his tongue as he deepened the kiss, working to build a familiar rise of butterflies in your stomach. As he pulled away, a soft pucker left behind a kind smile, relieved to have put the fight behind him and move forward; working towards getting you better.

"I love you, so much, never forget how much you mean to me and how much I value us." He looked up towards the IV bag, noting the drop in liquid from the bag, furrowing his brow. "Now if you will excuse me, I have a doctor to collect and a girlfriend to heal"

458 notes · View notes

eddieswh0r · 1 year

Note

Hiii!

I was wanting to request a fic where eddie and femreader! are best friends and roommates, eddie is in love with her but is too afraid to tell her in case it ruins things and she doesn't feel the same. so he naturally is quite jealous when he sees her with other guys, but what he doesnt know is reader feels the same way about him. one day eddie was meant to be at band practice all day but it finished early as gareth got sick, so eddie comes home and he walks by readers room and all he hears his her making sll sorts of moans and groans, and the door is open just a little so he can see her touching herself but she also is moaning his name. maybe he walks in or she sees him either way it could end up with some sex and a confession maybe?

let's get back into it with a smutty slow burner? 😉

'Best Friends Lend a Hand'

"Y/n, c'mon. Really? He's stood outside like he's taking you to fuckin' prom" peeking through the blinds that were being held open with a thumb and index finger, just enough to see down onto the street below, Eddie stifled his laughter "Look at him, he's got a fucking flower on his blazer. Wait.. Wait.. There's not even a button hole. It's just pinned on man.. No, stop it. Wait. Is that fucking sticky tape?" The curly haired metal head threw himself back down onto the sofa, holding his stomach as he erupted into fits of roaring laughter.

"You really need to stop calling it sticky tape Eddie, you're 24 and let me guess, you'd turn up on a date in a raggedy pair of jeans and your battle vest?" with a peek through the blinds yourself, your eyes widened. A short man who looked a little older than 25 like you'd been previously told and yes, as plain as day there was a wilted flower stuck to his blazer with the so-called 'sticky tape' attaching it.

"I'm so gonna get Harrington back for this." grabbing your bag off the arm of the sofa you pointed an outstretched finger at Eddie with narrowed eyes "You too!! you're both gonna pay so fuckin' bad for this!" with a slam of the door behind you, you lingered on the stairwell for a moment then sloped off to meet the blind date. The fucking horrible idea Harrington had concocted because he just wanted you to shut the fuck up about the lack of touch you so badly wanted. The few previous dates you'd been on were ok, nothing to write home about, there was no spark, they weren't thrilling, they weren't Eddie.

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

"Yeah man, she left about twenty minutes ago - ish and she did NOT look happy" passing Steve a beer Eddie leant his hip on the kitchen counter "..We're gonna pay for this, she insisted on it actually. 'You're gonna pay so fuckin' bad'" mimicking your voice in a high pitched tone he laughed taking a big gulp from the cold bottle.

"You can fuck right off Munson if you think she's getting me back for this as well. I was doing alright, firing out the best people i knew for these dates. You.. You picked this one, who the fuck is this man?"

"Michael, you remember him right? few years older than us, his brother Tommy was in Robins science classes"

"MICHAEL? MICHAEL COOPER? Eddie he's at least 30 now. A few years older? Jesus CHRIST. She's gonna go mental. How did you even ask him?

"Saw him in the 7-Eleven parking lot"

Eddie knew what he was doing though, he wasn't just being a prick to his roommate, his best friend of 20 years for no reason. Seeing Steve organize all these dates for you and watching you go off with the jock looking buff boys made Eddies insides twist. 20 years is a hell of a long time to be crushing hard on someone right? But from the age of 4, you and Eddie had been completely inseparable. Kindergarten, first school, middle, high, college, work, roommates, the full lot, together. So let's be honest a crush for 20 years? No. That boy was completely in love with you but he'd never tell you. No way. But you wouldn't tell him either, he'd never know you felt the same, fuck he could never know. Ever.

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

"I swear Eddie that date was traumatizing, you and Steve are in for it, just you wait. I don't mind an older man but 30 and already balding? You're both assholes for that" placing your cereal bowl in the sink you frowned crossing your arms, the previous events from last night whirling around in your head making you cringe. Pulling on his trainers Eddie hid the smirk that spread across his face as you told him all about the disastrous date.

"So lemme get this right, the sticky tape fell off and the flower fell riiiight into his soup?"

"Eddie i was so embarrassed, he was speaking so loud and people were staring and.. and then.. he fucking ate the flower swimming round in his soup, i wanted to die" slumping down into the sofa you looked over toward Eddie who was now chuckling to himself. God, if only the man who was stood in front of you would take you on a date.

"Wait.. Where you going anyway? I thought we had a movie marathon planned?" he better not be blowing you off for a date you thought, he did that once before and it didn't end well. You didn't speak to him for days and he did a bit too much groveling after that.

"Corroded Coffin rehearsal sweetheart, fuck. I thought i told you?" Grabbing his keys off the side, he looked at you with his big ol' puppy dog eyes "I'll make it up to you, i promise.. i gotta go"

"Asshole"

Eddie swung the door open and glanced back to you "Laters princess" flashing his teeth with a grin and finishing with a wink.

Fuuuck. If only he knew what those simple words did to you. That knot in your stomach tightened.

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

Hey, Doc! we better back up.

We don't have enough roads to get up to 88.

Roads?

Where we're going we don't need no roads.

"I will never get tired of that film" pressing the off button on the remote you sighed happily. You'd taken yourself to bed and curled up in your covers to watch yours and Eddies favorite film, even though he'd ditched you for band practice. The smell of his cologne wafted up to your nostrils from his band tee you wore. It's not like it was unusual for you to wear one of his t-shirts, in fact, it was more unusual for you not to be wearing one.

Boredom took over. The apartment was relatively clean, the laundry was done and you'd already picked at snacks throughout the film.

16:27 flashed on your alarm clock, Eddie had been gone for hours and he'd probably be gone a few more. Resting your hand on your stomach you tore your stare away from your ceiling toward your nightstand. A photo of you and Eddie from 2 years prior. Nancy had suggested a walk which sounded like a good idea at the time but it was a cold autumn morning and Steve did absolutely nothing but complain about the temperature the whole time. Nancy had bought her camera with her and caught the exact moment Eddie threw a big pile of golden orange and yellow leaves at you, he had his head thrown back laughing while the leaves fell around you. So as grumpy as you looked it was developed and placed in a frame for your 22nd birthday.

God, you were so in love with him. His hair, eyes, smile, neck, the dip in his chest, down towards his toned stomach which had his little trail leading towards.. towards..

"Mmm, fuck." your hand had found itself tucked inside your thin cotton panties, your finger drawing circles around what was now a wet pulsing bud of nerves as you thought about your best friend, the best friend you were absolutely madly in love with.

Closing your eyes and tilting your head back you slipped a second finger and applied more pressure wishing it was Eddie that was taking care of you, making you feel good.

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

Placing his keys on the small table next to the door Eddie scanned his eyes around the living room searching for you but nothing, he thought that you'd probably gone out to meet Nancy. He'd come back much earlier than expected, Gareth wasn't feeling great so they decided to call it a day.

"Oh Eddie."

His gaze quickly turned towards your bedroom door, faint squeaks and mewls coming from inside. Eddie gingerly made his way closer to the door, the faint orange hum of light from the bedside lamp shining through the slight crack of where it was left open.

"Feels so good, Eddie"

Hearing his name a second time he peeped one eye through the ajar door, eyes widening at what he could see in front of him. Sprawled on your bed with the covers no longer on you and Eddies tee bunched up just above your chest, one hand in your panties and the other caressing your breast with your hard, sensitive nipple rolling between your finger and thumb, your back arching every time you went a little faster. Eddie automatically palmed his now painfully hard erection through his jeans. Should he be doing this? This is wrong, that's my best friend he thought to himself but another moan of his name from your lips stopped that thought abruptly. He watched you gather your own slick on your index and middle finger letting your legs fall to the side and giving him a very clear view of what he wanted needed so bad, slowly sliding your fingers into your aching cunt a moan dragged from your throat which made Eddies breath hitch and palm his erection faster.

Eddie couldn't take it any longer, watching you take care of yourself like this, he needed to help. He needed to take care of you himself.

"Need a hand sweetheart?" gently pushing your bedroom door open his eyes darkened with want as he took a slow pace towards the end of your bed. You stopped what you were doing, you weren't nervous or even embarrassed. Looking up at him with big doe eyes you gave a simple nod and that was more than enough for him. Eddie walked round to the side of your bed while unfastening his belt, letting his jeans fall down to his ankles, followed by his boxers. Your eyes widened as his hard dick slapped against his stomach on release. Holy fuck he was gifted.

"I'm gonna take care of you now, 'kay? Just relax baby. M'gonna make you feel so good" Eddie climbed on top of you, pushing your legs apart with his knees. Nuzzling his way into your neck his teeth nipped at your skin, grazing down to your collarbone. You watched his every move not wanting to miss his perfect fucking face making its way over your torso.

"You miss me princess?" his voice muffled as his mouth enveloped around your nipple, the connection rapidly sending your hands to his mass of curly hair with a soft moan flowing from your lips, Eddie pinched your nipple between his teeth as he dragged a hand across your thigh, gripping the inside. Letting your nipple go from his mouth with a pop he gave you the biggest shit-eating grin you've ever seen.

"I’ll take that as a yes?" Taking his bottom lip between his teeth he edged down toward the end of the bed, hooking his arms under your knees, pulling you towards him.

“Eddie, wait!!” You called, Eddie let go of your legs in a panic, you watched his face drop as you knew every kind of thought would be running through his head.

“I don’t think it’s fair Eddie” you pouted your lips, dropping your head ever so slightly

“W-we can stop? If that’s what you want princess? We don’t have to do this, I don’t wanna ruin our friendship”

“Well.. I just kinda mean.. like.. you still have your top on” it was your turn to wear the shit-eating grin now and watch the relief wash over Eddies face. In a flash he removed his top and flung it over to the side. His toned body in all its glory, right there in front of you, begging to be touched, every single part of it, you wanted to cover with your lips.

“Is that what you wanted, Sweetheart? Is that better now?” A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped and Eddie leaned forward and pushed his lips on yours, snapping you from your stare. Slow, wet kisses at first switched on what felt like lightening dancing in your stomach which quickly turned to messy, open-mouthed kisses, tongues circling in unison, trying to find each other at every opportunity. Eddie pulled away breathless, leaving nothing but a string of saliva between you. Sitting up he resumed his position and hooked his arms under your legs pulling you closer. You bit your bottom lip in arousal and anticipation as Eddie looked down at you giving you a quick nod and the most beautiful smile, you nod back confirming the go ahead and be didn’t hesitate.

“Just relax sweetheart, if you wanna stop.. tell me.. ‘Kay?” He slowly pressed against your soaking wet opening with the tip of his dick, rubbing up and down gathering your wetness on his end.

“Oh f-fuck, you’re fuckin’..” cutting himself off from his own sentence he slipped inside of you, feeling your gummy walls clench around his length almost immediately. Your head threw back and a moan of his name left your lips pronto.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie” gripping the sheets and throwing your head back at the bliss. Eddie pushed in to the hilt and picked up a pace rather quickly which earned groans from his direction.

“Sweetheart, you’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted this”

“Eddie, shut up and fuck me” you giggled breathless. Deep and hard, faster and faster. The fire in your stomach was unbearable and the taste of sweet release was moments away.

“Eddie. I- I’m gonna..”

“Cum for me, there’s a good girl.” Those words tipped you over the fuckin edge, as you clenched your walls around him waves of euphoria washed over you, knuckles turning white from the sheets in your grasp, your mouth hung open but no sound was audible. Your body shook as your reached your ultimate high.

“There it is, fuck. Such a good girl for me” Eddie praised as he reached his own high, burying his warm seed deep inside you. Your name and curses rolling off his tongue.

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

What felt like hours passed and somehow the covers had found their way onto you both, Eddies arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest while it gently rose and fell with every breath. You didn’t know what was to happen next only that you both didn’t want this to end, you and Eddie had waited for this moment and no one was going to take it away. Your eyes slowly closed as tiredness took over as it did for Eddie.

“I love you, Sweetheart”

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

Oh please I’ve been fucking working on this for months and the last few paras are SO fuckin rushed because it was just sitting in my drafts.

Love you all😩🥰

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #joe quinn #stranger things #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie fanfic

742 notes · View notes

luveline · 9 months

Note

More zombie au! Steve!!! Please! It’s literally so good I love how you write Steve all protective <3

thank you ♡ steve zombie au —steve gets sick. you meet a dark-haired stranger while looking for meds. fem!reader 2k

You compare your arm to the bottle in your hand. You've written a list of generic and brand name antibiotics in biro on your forearm, but they're smudging from nervous sweat. You're getting desperate.

Nothing seems to match. You're shaking with aching arms and legs, fucking terrified as you sift through a floor of orange and white pill bottles that nothing is going to match your list, and worse, the pharmacy grows darker by the hour. You don't have a torch.

Things are getting pretty bad at camp. There's not enough food to go around, no batteries, and now Steve's…

A bottle slips out of your hand and knocks into another. You cringe and pick up the next. You've been searching for hours without sitting down, as hiding underneath the bottles is a carpeting of grainy glass from the smashed shelves. Three of your fingertips have cut and scabbed since you got here.

"Fuck," you whisper, glaring at another wrong medication. "Fuck, fuck."

Amoxicillin, ciprofloxacin, flucloxacillin. Anything to stop Steve's infection from getting into his blood. It's a gross wound, oozy and inflamed, and when you'd left him with Robin dutiful at his side his skin had glowed with heat like glass held in the centre of a furnace. Even with his eyes closed, he'd known what you were about to do.

"Don't fucking leave," he'd grit out, fingers twitching up for your hand.

You'd leaned forward and kissed his damp forehead. "I have to go. I love you. I'll be right back."

That was ten hours ago at least. You have no idea what condition Steve might be in, so sure you'd find the pills and be back in arm's reach by noon. How sick can he get before it's too much?

"Shit," you whisper, your fingers tingling.

"What are you looking for?"

You fall backward with a sharp gasp, pill bottles biting into your thighs. Your face swings around but the source of the voice is unclear, empty shelves and aisles either side of you.

"Chill out–"

"Where the fuck are you?" you demand, scrambling onto your feet with the use of one sacrificed palm. Glass like needles serrates your skin. "Fuck! Come out, loser!"

"Hey, no need to be mean. I'm up in the ceiling."

You look up. Peeking out from a displaced ceiling tile is a pale face silhouetted by a matt of dark hair.

"You fucking little freak," you say, though you feel bad immediately. He's smiling and he isn't pointing any weapons at you, which is more than most strangers allow on the road. "Why are you up there?"

"I wanted to see if you had a gun, stupid."

"You're stupid, stupid. What if it was in my bag?"

"Point it at me, then!"

You stare at him in silence.

"That's what I thought," he says, framing a face in two hands like a baby angel on a gift card. "Can I come down or are you gonna keep bitchin'?"

"Don't fucking come down here."

"Or what?" he asks.

"I'll get my gun out."

"Mm, okay," he mocks. "I'll come help you find whatever it is that has your panties in a twist."

"I swear to god–"

"Listen. I'm a good guy, I swear."

"That's what bad guys say."

The stranger laughs a weird giggly laugh and climbs backwards. The ceiling tiles stress visibly under his weight but make no noise as he disappears from view. He swears a couple of times on the way down, unseen, before the stockroom door swings open and he appears in his intimidating glory in the doorway.

"If you kill me," you say, eyeing his spiked wristbands and the machete strapped to his waist with horrified apprehension, "my boyfriend will avenge me. Like, hunt you to the ends of the earth and slice you into little tiny pieces of vengeance."

"That sounds like my kind of party, but your boyfriend has nothing to worry about. I got a girl."

"Don't say rock and roll."

"How the fuck would you guess that?" he asks, hand flying to the back of his neck for a bashful scratch.

"My life feels like a shitty gimmicky horror movie, and you look the part." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I need antibiotics."

"You and everybody else in the world. This for your vengeful boyfriend?"

You don't need him knowing who they're for. He could be an evil guy, and the threat of Steve waiting for you might be your trump card. "No. My vengeful boyfriend left to look for cans in the shelter."

"He'll be back soon, then."

You take a step back. "I'll gouge your eyes out if you try anything, I'm serious. I don't care how big your knife is–"

"I'm Eddie." Eddie smiles at you, shoving his hands into cargo pockets. Despite his weird questions and his choice of apparel, he looks less intimidating in the lingering light of the setting sun as it seeps between window shutters. "I don't want to hurt you." He frowns. "Any kind of hurt."

"Can I have the machete?"

"Nope. I can go put it down somewhere, though, if that's less scary."

You shake your head, and with a great big sigh, lean down to sift through bottles. If he's going to hurt you, he might as well get on with it. The longer you spend talking to him, the sicker your Steve becomes.

"You need antibiotics bad?" Eddie asks, his voice softening.

"My best friend is sick." You toss a bottle, pick up another. "Infection probably getting into his blood. If I don't find something tonight, he's gonna die."

"Well, we can't have that," Eddie says, crouching down to help.

You sweep through bottle after bottle of things you wish you needed. Painkillers, sleeping pills, laxatives. Good shit, and nothing you need.

"You know…" Eddie sighs. "I know you could lie to me, but is it just you, boyfriend and the dying bestie, or?"

You're not sure what the right answer is. Better for him to think you have an army waiting if you get lost, or better to hide them? He could belong to a cult of cannibals. Only… his clothes are squeaky clean. His curls shine with a gloss that comes solely with conditioner, which means he has the time and security to really wash things.

But murders can wash their clothes, right?

"There's a couple of us," you say.

"You're not from that place west, are you?"

You put a pill bottle down slowly. "West?"

"Yeah, there were people there, hundreds of 'em. We got a few stragglers, survivors from the fucking massacre that happened a few weeks ago. One girl said there must've been thirty, forty kids there, it's fucking awful."

You swallow a lump. "Awful," you agree.

"Hopper says we can track down the people who did it if we just follow the blood trail," Eddie says, slipping into a theatrical bravado that won't stick. "I don't know… someone needs to stop them."

You choke, "Hopper? Chief Hopper?"

"Wait, you're from Hawkins?" Eddie asks.

You give each other boggled looks, a thrumming hope building in your chest like a flickering flame in the dead of winter.

"I think you better come back with me," Eddie says.

"I need antibiotics," you say, wanting to explain it to him and now knowing how. Or even if you should. Awesome, Hopper's alive, but that doesn't mean Eddie's group are good people, or that they can help you. There's nothing anyone in the world can do for you right now if they don't have a handful of Augmentin.

"You're from The College."

"I don't have time for this," you say, half apology and half frustration. "Yeah, we were from The College, and now it's gone, and my boyfriend's gonna die if you don't help me find the right pills." You wince and snatch up another stupid bottle.

"I can get you antibiotics," Eddie says, "but you're gonna have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"No."

—

Steve wakes up two days later in an unfamiliar building.

His eyes are made of sand, he can hardly breathe it's that cold, each breath as sharp as a needle as he sucks it in, but there's a roof over his head, a blanket over his chest, and your voice, your laugh rings like a song in the air.

"He didn't do that, you're lying," you say with a laugh, pulling Steve's hand to your chest.

"He did." Steve stiffens at the voice. Deeper, rougher than yours. "I swear on my life, he jumped right into Lover's Lake and swam backstroke to prove he could beat Louisa Park's best."

"Did he beat her time?"

"No, but he had a condom stuck to his ankle when he got out. Wasn't worth it."

"Steve," you say. Steve thinks you've noticed he's waking up, but you hug his hand with a sympathetic sigh. "That's so embarrassing. You better wake up soon, I have making fun of you to do."

"I think I'll stay asleep," he says hoarsely.

You gasp and choke his fingers between yours. "Steve?" You climb up onto the bed, your weight dipping the mattress under his back. Your hand comes careful and warm against his chilled cheek. "You're awake. You're awake?"

He strains to unglue his top lashes from his bottom lashes. You beam at him, the little scars around your mouth from a cruel hand shining in the white morning light.

"What time is it?" he asks.

"It's, like, seven in the morning."

"I've been asleep that long?"

"You've been unconscious for nearly two days," you correct.

Steve can't remember anything. He has the barest memory of your lips on his forehead. Robin splashing cold water on him and calling him an asshole, and then, much quieter, her best friend.

"Where's Robin?" he asks.

"She's being Robin somewhere, you know, she loves being helpful. The kids need help getting settled."

"And you're being lazy," Steve pokes.

He lifts his chin so your kiss lands exactly where he wants it, the stubbly space below his jaw. You wrap your arms around him and hug him severely, squeezing his tender ribs.

"I wasn't lazy, I had to go save you by myself."

"Save everybody," the familiar but impossible voice adds. Steve doesn't want to believe it. He refuses to. "Like, an entire generation."

"I didn't do anything," you say, kissing Steve again, a short path to his chapped lips. "Honey," —your voice lowers, your confession for Steve's ears alone— "I'm so happy you're okay. I was really, really scared."

Steve feels the weight of your fear like a dumbell on his chest, but he's uber confused. Propping his chin over your shoulder and hugging you back, the evil wound on his arm that caused this whole mess throbbing like fire under his bandage, Steve sets his eyes on the boy sitting on the chair next to yours.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie says warmly, eyes dripping with a put upon affection. "Miss me?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asks.

"Saving the day, obviously."

"I can't believe I found one of your friends," you say, sitting up a little to smile at him. You really are gorgeous in his eyes, better than any movie star. Your beatific little grin stirs something, but Eddie's snort stomps it dead.

"We're not friends," Steve says.

You stroke Steve's face with the back of your hand. "Don't be like that. He's really nice…" Your smile melds itself to a concerned frown. "I thought you were kicking it, Stevie. How's your arm feeling? Does it hurt a lot?"

"It's fine," he says dismissively, wrapping his stronger arm around your waist. He's not jealous or anything, it's just cold in here, honest. "Munson, where the fuck did you come from?"

"Right here, Stevie."

"We're not far from the camp," you explain, stroking his face once again. "Or, we weren't when it was there. We're merging with this one to make a mega camp."

"Why would we do that? We don't know that we can trust these people."

"No, but we can trust Hopper." You smile. Steve knows things are gonna be okay, as long as you can smile like that. He leans his cheek into your hand, loved and relieved and–

"Hopper?" Steve asks.

"Jesus, Harrington," Eddie says, rolling his shoulders. "Keep up. If you can't comprehend the easy stuff, you're not gonna believe what we haven't told you."

"What haven't you told me?" Steve asks.

You push his shoulders down into the pillows. "I think you better lay down first."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

509 notes · View notes