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hornedqueenofhell · 4 months

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Holiday in... Handcuffs? Pt. 4

Pt 3

They didn’t bother with any space between them that night, Eddie lays his head on Steve’s shoulder because that’s where it belonged, the same way Steve’s fingers belong on his lower back, tucked under the hem of Eddie’s hoodie. Their legs tangled together as Eddie trails a finger over Steve lips and asks to kiss him.

“Ask me again in the morning sweetheart. I don’t want to be half asleep when I taste you.”

Eddie groans at that, hips shifting against Steve’s, “Baby you can’t say shit like that to me and expect me to go to sleep.”

“Watch me.” He tips Eddie’s chin up and tugs his lower lip between his teeth, scraping until the tender flesh snaps back and leaves Eddie whining and arching under his hands.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you the second I get you in my bed princess.” He hisses and Steve laughs in his face.

“Try that one again when you can stop grinding against my thigh helplessly…princess.” Steve purrs right back. “Until I say so, you’re at my mercy and I’m going to enjoy it.”

Eddie wants to make him eat those words, wants to place his lips everywhere else since Steve’s own mouth is off limits. But Steve’s eyelids are drooping and he can feel a yawn behind his teeth, so he just presses a kiss to Steve’s forehead and whispers, “Enjoy it then big boy. Good night.”

They drift off tangled together while Steve’s family plans a raid on the Munson cabin first thing in the morning.

~O~

The Hopper-Byers house woke up solemnly and got dressed, their living room floor full of sleeping bags and piles of blankets. The kids were riding with Nancy and Jon in the station wagon while Joyce and Hopper took the cruiser. Robin was out of town and no one wanted to stress her out until they had safely gotten Steve back home.

Nancy was loaded down with her handgun and sawed off that Hopper was pretending not to see at this moment. Lucas was fiddling with his wrist rocket while El, Max, and Will talked quietly amongst themselves. Dustin had used his spare key to get Steve’s home defense bat which was tucked between his knees, hands gripping the end until his knuckles go white. Mike had been strangely silent since the news broke, guilt over everything he’d said to Steve eating him alive.

“We’re going to get him Hop, one way or another.” Joyce swears, their backseat has enough supplies in the back to make sure that the corpses of Eddie and Wayne Munson are never found again. They’d send Steve back with the kids, let them take care of him back at home base. Hopper would get his testimony later, after Joyce had put some good meals in him and let him rest off the trauma.

And then they’d get Steve whatever help and therapy he would need depending on what he’d had to live through. They would offer him all the support and love that his family had never been able to. Joyce would call Steve her son the way she’d always hesitated to, afraid she had been overstepping. Hopper would ask if Steve would like to change his last name, had wanted to since the Harrington’s had disowned him for being bisexual.

Everyone was making silent promises to apologize, to hold, to talk, to give Steve all the things they realized they’d been holding back or neglecting. Because it was either they got the chance to or they’d be begging forgiveness at Steve’s grave.

Joyce consulted the map they’d brought with all of the satellite dots from Steve’s phone as they passed a gas station about half an hour from their destination. “They stopped there according to the map, the last one before they got to the cabin.”

Hopper squeezes her hand quietly, “One way or another.”

~O~

“I know it’s not much because I’m afraid I don’t know you very well yet son, but I didn’t want you to be here empty handed so this is for you.” Wayne says as he nudges a box across the coffee table to Steve.

“Wayne, you didn’t have to.” Steve carefully slipped off the paper, something Eddie found so endlessly endearing. He looked forward to watching Steve do this with the rest of his gifts once they got back to town tomorrow. And then Eddie was ordering take out and making out with Steve in the other man’s apartment until Steve kicked him out.

The box contained a pair of slippers and a soft bathrobe, not Steve’s normal style but probably a soon to be necessity if he didn’t want Robin to murder him if Eddie ever stayed over. “I get the feeling this will be very useful soon. Thank you so much Wayne.” He offers sincerely as Wayne reaches over to pat his knee fondly with a warm smile.

“You’re welcome Steve. I’m so happy to have met you, and how happy you make Eddie… it warms this old man's heart.”

“You’re not even that old Wayne.” Steve snorts, making them all laugh. He shifts back against the sofa to tuck under Eddie’s arm, eyes closing with happiness as Eddie’s lips press to his temple.

“Do you want another cup of coffee?” He asks and Steve nods gently so Eddie gathers up their mugs and heads into the kitchen.

“Go get your boy.” Wayne encourages him with a wink. Grinning Steve hops up and follows Eddie into the kitchen. He grabs some snacks for them to nibble on while Eddie refills their mugs. Before he can step back into the living room Steve stops him.

“Look up sweetheart.”

Eddie looks up and sees a sprig of mistletoe taped over the doorway, “Really? Really Wayne?”

Wayne just laughs at him and waves them off, “Just kiss the man Eddie, I’m sick of whatever weird mating dance you two are doing.”

Eddie looks to Steve who is grinning at him with his own little eyebrow wiggle, he grips Steve’s hips and reels him in close. “May I Steve, may I kiss you?”

“Yes, please Eddie kiss me.” Steve whispers against his lips, hands coming up to cup his face and tug him down until their lips finally meet.

And then the cabin door bursts open.

“Freeze!”

Steve and Eddie’s lips break apart, whipping towards the door in sync as Eddie’s arms tighten around Steve.

“Release him now!”

This time the voice registers and Steve’s jaw drops open. “Hop?”

“Steve! We came to rescue you!” Dustin bursts past Hopper branding his bat and swinging wildly.

“Rescue me? What the hell are you talking about?” Steve studies all their tense faces as he carefully moves Eddie behind him.

“Wait was this all a joke? Were you just playing a prank on Dustin, pretending to be kidnapped?” Mike spits, getting defensive now that they are on the backfoot.

“Kidnapped? Dustin, were you even listening when I called you? I told you I was staying with a friend for Christmas. I specifically said I wasn’t being kidnapped.”

“Your phone was breaking up, I heard a struggle. I heard the horrible thing he said to you!” Tears beaded in Dustin’s eyes as he gestured wildly at Eddie, “I thought I was never going to see you again.”

“Oh Dusty, come here.” Dustin drops the bat and sprints across the room, throwing himself into Steve’s arms with a sob. Steve squeezes him tight and lets Dustin wail with relief as he holds fistfuls of Steve’s sweatshirt.

“Thank you for coming to rescue me Dusty bun. You were so brave.” Steve tells him as he starts to calm down, he turns them slightly and offers a hand out, “Dustn, I’d like you to meet my friend and supposed kidnapper Eddie Munson.”

“...Hi,” Eddie offers gently, he awkwardly holds out a paper towel for Dustin to dry his eyes with, “Steve tells me you’re his little brother.”

“This is sweet and I’m sorry to interrupt but could the lot of you stop letting the cold in and maybe see if my front door can still close?” Wayne interrupts and the rest of Steve’s family blushes before shuffling into the cabin and doing their best to close the door. The handle was completely fucked but the deadbolt hadn’t been pushed so they just used that to hold the door closed. The frame was ruined but at least the draft was minimal.

“Thank you, now someone explain to me why my nephew is being accused of kidnapping.” Everyone continues to fidget awkwardly until Wayne gestures for them to sit.

Wayne has one armchair while Steve and Eddie share the other, Dustin leaning against Steve’s legs. Joyce, Hopper, Nancy, and Jon all squeeze together on the couch while the other kids scatter on the floor. There’s still wrapping paper from their gifts scattered around.

“Why didn’t any of you just call me to ask if I was kidnapped? Or Robin for that matter, I texted her everything about where I was.” Everyone winces at the mention of Robin since they’d left her out of the loop for her own safety, turns out she was the loop.

“Since you didn’t reach out again after the kidnapping message we weren’t sure if you or your kidnapper had the phone and we didn’t want to risk them getting angry and killing you.” Hopper says taking lead on this debacle. Joyce is squeezing his thigh tightly so she doesn’t run over and snatch Steve into her arms.

“I texted Dustin a picture of the cabin yesterday after we finished decorating.” Steve points out, Dustin hasn’t released his sleep pants since they sat down.

“With the other evidence we had gathered it looked more like you trying to help us find you.”

“Other evidence? I’m sorry but what fucking evidence are you talking about?” Eddie snaps, more scared than angry. This man burst into his home and pointed a gun at him so he’s a little on edge right now, even with Steve’s hand in his.

Hopper clears his throat uncomfortably and holds his hands up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry. When Dustin reported the abduction I went to the ‘scene’ and there was some video footage of what appeared to be a large black vehicle driving too close to the curb, and then you pushing Steve to the ground. You went out of frame but another camera shows you driving another black vehicle with Steve in the passenger seat shortly after.”

Eddie huffs, looking very much like he wants to go one one of his tirades until Steve leans more into him and Eddie deflates. This is Steve’s family, who thought they were protecting someone who means a lot to them. Eddie can be justifiably angry for feeling profiled and accused but he won’t take it out on his not quite boyfriends loved ones.

“There was a truck,” Eddie says through gritted teeth. After another glance at Steve he manages to take a deep breath and the words come out a little easier, “it was taking the corner too fast and kicking up a lot of icy road slush. I pushed us both out of the way so we wouldn’t end up soaked. And last I checked, owning a black vehicle wasn’t a crime.”

“It’s not honey and we’re so sorry that this happened.” Joyce speaks up, intervening and diffusing the attention with her genuine warmth, “This was all an unfortunate misunderstanding but what matters is that Steve is okay and that you’re both happy. And we’re sorry for messing up your sweet moment.”

This time Steve and Eddie were the ones blushing, Steve’s entire family had burst in on the two of them kissing after all.

“Could we maybe start over?” Joyce continues, “Would you all like to come over for Christmas dinner? And we can have a repair guy come out and fix your door tomorrow.”

Eddie and Steve glance at each other before looking at Wayne who just shrugs, “I’ll follow along with whatever you boys want.” They turn back to each other and Steve offers him a small smile.

“I know it’s a little fast, and certainly not how I would have planned for this to go. But since I’ve met your family, would you like to meet mine?”

Eddie lets out a snort laugh and squeezes Steve’s hand, lifting it to press a kiss to his knuckles, “Sure Stevie. At least this time I don’t have to worry about somehow making a worse impression than the one that’s already been made of me.”

“They’re going to love you, I know they will.”

With the new plans set Steve, Eddie and Wayne go get dressed while Hopper uses the tarp they brought the tree in with to try and keep the elements from seeping into Wayne’s cabin. Steve’s family goes back to their cars with the exception of Dustin who choses to clamber into the Range Rover with Steve and the Munsons.

“Is Eddie your boyfriend Steve?” He asks bluntly as they head out, their vehicle taking up the rear of their little caravan.

“Not yet, but I think we’re getting there.” Eddie throws him a cheeky wink as he flicks on some low music to fill the background.

“Cool, hey is that a dungeons and dragons tattoo?”

The older man grins and with a faux annoyed groan Steve settles back in his seat as his family starts to get to know his soon to be boyfriend. This might be the strangest Christmas Steve has ever had but it’s also one of the happiest.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #dustin henderson #joyce byers #jim hopper #wayne munson #baker!steve #mechanic!eddie #modern au #no upside down au #comedy of errors #accidental kidnapping #steddiefic chronicles

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finntheehumaneater · 4 months

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I’ll Be Home For Christmas

Angsty scentance prompt: 5. I don’t want to fight with you. Not tonight. (@steddiemas)

“I just don’t see why this has to be a big deal!” Eddie was so close to yelling, but he was trying to keep his tone under control. He should have been back home at his apartment with Wayne an hour ago, but this little argument was making him late, and he was fucking pissed about it.

Steve crossed his arms, his eyes watering slightly, and Eddie desperately wanted this argument to be over, but Steve just couldn’t fucking see reason. “They’re my family, Eddie, I can’t just not go.”

“Of course you can fucking not go!” Eddie snapped, glaring at Steve. “Stevie—you don’t owe them anything! Every time you see them, you come home and you are miserable! And maybe you don’t notice, but that affects everyone, not just you.” He rubbed his hands down his face and tried to soften his tone. “I just don’t understand why you insist on putting yourself through this every time.”

Steve’s breath was shaking and he was gripping at his arms so hard that Eddie was sure he was going to bruise himself. “They’re my family, Eddie.”

“So am I!” Eddie stepped closer to Steve, glaring at him, and he hated the way that Steve flinched slightly when he raised his voice again, but he just kept going. “And I’m a hell of a lot nicer to you than they are!”

Steve looked away, a few tears falling down his face. “I…I—“ he took a deep breath and looked back at Eddie, in what Eddie supposed was supposed to be a glare, but it looked more desperate. “I don’t want to fight with you. Not—not tonight.”

“Then when the fuck are we supposed to talk about this, Steve?” Eddie kept pushing at him—and he knew Steve was close to sobbing, and he felt horrible that he had made Steve cry like this, but he didn’t want to have to Steve that fucking miserable ever again—and god, this argument had been a long time coming. Three years, even. “Because it seems to me like this is a great time to have it!”

Steve did sob. And it was quiet, and it was pathetic, and Eddie immediately softened again, reaching over to move Steve’s hands off of his arms before he hurt himself. “Hey, hey…it’s okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Stevie.”

He knew Steve wasn’t listening to him—was in his own little world of hurt, not—but he kept talking anyway. “I just—it could be fun, you know? Just you, me, and Wayne for the holidays. No long drives, no tense conversations, no awkward dinners…just us, yeah?”

Steve isn’t looking at him. His eyes are unfocused and he’s looking off somewhere to the side, but he’s not really looking. His hair is flopping over in a way that Eddie knows bothers him, and his lip is shaking, and he’s still crying. Fuck, Eddie feels horrible.

“Stevie?” Eddie says quietly, gently rubbing at Steve’s arm to try and get his attention without being forceful. “Baby?”

Steve does turn back to look at him eventually—and it takes a moment for his eyes to focus on Eddie’s face again—but when he does, he just sobs. One that shakes through his whole body, and he crumples into Eddie’s arms. “I’m not staying. I have to go! My parents will hate me if I—if I don’t go.”

Eddie sighed and wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist to help him stay upright, his cheek pressed against the top of Steve’s head. “Do you really care what they think, or do you just feel like you should? Because honestly, this is the one time that I’ve seen you act like this over them.” And Eddie didn’t say that it was only because he had been pushing and pushing until Steve broke. But that was partly it.

“I have to go,” Steve repeats quietly through another sob, and he slips down to the floor, so Eddie slides down with him.

It takes Eddie a minute to speak again, and because he knows Steve’s mind is set in this, he sighs dramatically and drops his head onto Steve’s shoulder, muttering, “Are you going to be all grouchy with me when you get home, then?”

Steve’s crying pauses for a moment, and Eddie sees his eyebrows furrow, but it’s hard to tell if he’s thinking or pissed off because everything is kind of sideways from his viewpoint. “I’m not—I don’t get grouchy.”

“Yes, you do.” Eddie says, sitting up and taking Steve’s hand. You wrap yourself up in my blanket—my blanket, Steve—and you wander around my apartment and do this all the time—,” Eddie sighed again, but it sounded more like a groan, and maybe it was more dramatic than what Steve actually did, but it got Steve to smile slightly. “And you just keep looking all sad and pathetic until I let you stay the night and we watch a movie. And that goes on for days. Seriously, it always feels like you're slowly trying to move in with me or something.”

Steve opens his mouth to say something, but Eddie pressed a hand to his lips, patting his shoulder. “Nope. That conversation can wait for after the holidays when we’re less busy and I have more time to help you move your things over.”

Honestly—they didn’t even really need to have that conversation, because if either of them asked, the other one would automatically say yes. And realistically, it would be Eddie and Wayne moving in with Steve, because his house was bigger. But Eddie didn’t want to admit that.

“I don’t do that.” Steve said again. He was repeating things a lot recently, and he had been less talkative than normal—less bitchy with the kids. Which meant that he was anxious, and Eddie knew exactly what he was anxious about, but he didn’t say anything.

“I’ll call Wayne right now and ask him.”

“Please don’t, he’s probably asleep.”

He probably wasn’t. He was probably up waiting for Eddie and wondering what was taking so long—because tomorrow was Christmas Eve and they had a ton of shit to do. “Just think about it, okay, sweetheart? Please?”

Steve nodded, and Eddie kissed his forehead before getting up to go grab his things. They said goodbye, and Eddie drove home in the dark.

— —

Eddie didn’t see Steve the next day. He tried calling but got no answer, and was just about to go over there unannounced (even though he knew that Steve hated that) when Wayne stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, his other hand taking the shoes out of Eddie’s. “That Buckley girl stopped by to tell you that he went to his parents. You were asleep.”

Eddie froze. Steve had left a day early. Probably so that he didn’t have to see him again after their fight. He thought they had made up, though. Sure—neither of them said they were sorry for the yelling and the mean-looks—but they rarely ever did. Sorry kind of lost its meaning over time, and it did nothing to say it when the other wouldn’t believe that you actually meant it. ‘Sorry’ was Steve’s way of getting out of something quickly, and he hated when it was said back to him, because he had told Eddie that it made him feel bad. That he had made the other person feel bad enough to apologize.

Maybe Steve had actually wanted him to apologize? Why hadn’t he said anything? Was Eddie supposed to just fucking know?

“Oh,” Was all he said, his voice quiet.

“Sorry, son.” Wayne muttered, squeezing his shoulder, before walking over to put Eddie’s shoes back on the rack. “I’m sure you two’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He whispered, but he didn’t mean it.

——

Christmas Eve passed, and the next day was about the most pathetic Christmas Eddie had ever had. Most of their decorations were destroyed along with the trailer in the…earthquake, and since Eddie’s band was still mostly a failure (they would make it big, he swore. Just not now. Not for a good long while. The world needed more time to warm up to their awesomeness) they were still fucking poor. Which sucked.

There weren’t a shit ton of decorations like normal, and the tree was small and kind of thin, but Wayne looked happy enough. And even without Steve here—and the fact that he was ignoring him and abandoning him for shitty family members—that made Eddie happy, too.

They didn’t have a fireplace—and they didn’t have one in the trailer, either—but they hung out around the big space heater crammed into the corner of the living room all day because it was the only part of the house that was warm.

Later into the night, it started to snow, and Eddie was finally thinking that he was ready to put the whole Steve thing behind him and enjoy his fucking Christmas when the doorbell rang.

Wayne got up and opened the door, and then closed it again, sitting back down. Eddie looked confused. “Who was it?”

“Steve.”

Eddie shot up at that, some ripped wrapping paper falling out of his lap and onto the ground. “Why didn’t you answer it?”

“If you’re mad at him, then so am I,” Wayne answered simply, going back to balling up the wrapping paper.

Eddie practically ran over to the door, taking a second to breathe before opening it. Steve was standing there, snow in his hair, scarf falling off of his shoulders, his breath forming in white clouds in front of him. He looked out of breath, his face flushed, his nose pink. It was fucking adorable.

“Hey,” Eddie said dumbly.

“Hi,” Steve said back.

There was a small present in his hand, and Eddie stepped aside to let Steve in. Steve put the present down and took off his snowy boots. Then the two of them just…stood there for a moment. Looking at each other. Until Steve huffed and muttered, “fuck it.” And threw his arms around Eddie, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I was wrong,” He choked out. “I hate it there, and as soon as I got in my car I missed you, and I hadn’t even started driving yet, but—I went up to New York City just to drop of the presents for my cousins, because they’re not assholes, but—but then it was snowing too much to drive back, and I couldn’t catch a flight, so I had to stay the night. I swear, the second the storm calmed down I got right back in the car—a-and I have been driving for twenty hours in the last two days, I—“

Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve, finally moved them from where they were laying limp at his sides. “It’s okay.” He whispered into Steve’s hair, lips pressed to the side of his head as he reached out with his foot to push the door closed. “It’s okay, I know.”

He hadn’t even realized that Steve was crying, but he was, his face pressed into Eddie’s shoulder to muffle his light sobs.

“I didn’t get you a present. That’s for Wayne.” He sniffled, standing up straighter and wiping his eyes. “I was going to but then I forgot, and—“

“It’s alright, don’t worry. You being here is enough.”

“Sap,” Steve muttered.

“Asshole,” Eddie shot back, nothing but fondness in his voice. “Now take your coat off, it’s wet from the snow.

——

hallo! This took me longer to write than I care to admit :)

ignore the cliche title I didn’t know what to write :)

@an-atlas-or-other I wrote another one :D

#Steddiemas #steddie #fic #my writing #day 16 #steddiemas day 16 #Finnwrites

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wroteclassicaly · 1 year

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Here’s some Steve for you Midwest bestie 🥰 oh no hopefully this doesn’t make you want to write anymore smutty blurbs :( hehehe

You tryna turn me into an even bigger slut for this man and his Midwest Monster? I am here for it! Listen, a bitch got a little carried away, btw… this turned into a whole ass fic with a few surprises… ;) I listened to Kenny G’s Christmas album whilst writing parts of this, because we fuck with that dude in this house!

Sorry this took so long! It’s unedited and I hope it’s okay? It kind of developed a mind of its own… 😂

Warnings: Language, smut, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight masturbation, breeding kink, & tooth rotting fluff.

Steve Harrington never paid much attention to you… It was always your bestfriend’s new frosted manicure, or if your other friend got her hair done. He noticed. He paid compliments.

But if you tried a new lipstick outside of your comfort zone he wouldn’t even give you anything but a company line and a mere glance, checking out your movies with a precise ease, saving that witty charm for your friend. If you ever went into the Family Video it had always been with friends, never really a reason to go solo. ‘Chicken shit. You don’t get his attention because you can’t handle it. One of the girls is always with you, babes.’ Your bestie’s voice rang in through your ears, tormenting you since she’d finally said it days ago.

Your visits with your friends had shortened in the amount of days, your trying to seek out Steve’s attention dwindling. Why bother if he doesn’t care, and he doesn’t… At least, that’s what you convinced yourself—all the way through your argument of going to get the videos at the store tonight instead of your parents. They were preparing for a party, you weren’t busy. It was a no brainer, according to your dad and logic. But you didn’t want to see him tonight.

You lost the battle, however, and forged your way into praying he was somewhere nursing a hot toddy instead of rewinding new releases tonight. As you pull up to candy colored, light draped strip Mall—you already know you’re screwed.

There is no such luck. You can see him behind the counter through the labeling on the glass door. God, he looks good. You sigh and push the door open, cringing as the bell dings. He spares a look as any employee would. You don’t give him the same courtesy, instead heading directly to the specially decorated rack of holiday films and picking out the tapes.

Your heartbeat is throbbing painfully beneath the silk of your evening dress, making you adjust your soft overcoat and inhale a few deep breaths to coax you to the front counter. You slide your tapes onto the green surface and flash him a friendly smile, wishing he didn’t speak to you and steal your attempts at making this quick and painless. You want to crawl in the deepest pits of hell for the sins you imagine committing on the spot. He’s wearing a pair of light wash Levi’s, his signature belt snapped close to hold the fabric nice and tight. He’s wearing a fuzzy cream colored sweater that’s rolled above his his elbows, showcasing his watch, his hair in a slight disarray from his daily shift, and… your jaw about drops when you notice something new.

Peeking out from the sweater’s collar is a thin gold chain around his neck. Your tongue clicks to the roof of your mouth and you inhale sharply—another mistake. His cologne enriches your senses and smacks you in the face. And you wonder if the fucker has some he sprays on during his breaks, keeping it in his car, because how the fuck is it so present at this time of night? You can’t stop yourself when you shift, the silk sliding between your legs, your hosiery adding extra friction.

“You and the girls doing some downtime tonight?”

You’ve forgotten his voice has an even harsher effect on your body when he looks like he needs to be fucked thoroughly. Preferably… by you.

“Huh?” He’s grinning at you, as if there’s something he’s aware of that you’re not and never have been.

He starts to scan the tapes with one hand, the other drumming on the remaining few. What you wouldn’t give to have those fingers—

“I mean, you don’t normally go for this kind of cheesy stuff, right?”

“Oh. I mean, no, it’s for the party tonight. Besides, what’s wrong with the classics?” You shock yourself with your bold little defense.

It’s no big deal. He’s almost done scanning, just go when he finishes.

“Take no offense, Y/N, I just meant that it sounds like a tame party for you and your friends. Am I wrong about that?”

You can’t help but to laugh. “It’s a family party. You know, families and pleasantries exchanged, old dudes making jokes, enough food to send everyone home with leftovers and make my mom bitch about all the clean up left to do, like she doesn’t keep hosting these every single year.”

“Ah, the festively annual wine and dine shindig of adulthood. My folks used to have many.”

You take note of the used to, remembering how Steve’s parents haven’t been around to even hang a set of lights or send out stamped holiday cards. He’s also working on a night when everyone else you know that is employed here — isn’t. A protectiveness bubbles inside of your chest, piling metaphorical ice and snow a top your former irritation with him. It’s not his fault if he isn’t into you like that, even if it really stings. You’re pursing your lips, pausing, taking the five dollar bill your mom had given you from your handbag and sliding it across the desk where his fingers meet too quickly and brush over yours.

Neither of you move, which has you feeling the goosebumps prickling your flesh, your coat suddenly too hot. Steve looks at you, and for the first time you feel like he’s caring enough to see. His fingers curl around yours, his milky white teeth bared in the cutest little grin. He licks his lips and the action is taken into your labored breathing, his hand flipping yours to draw small shapes into your palm, keeping you here in a comfortable silence…? You both hear it loudly over the intercom, a well known Christmas tune played with a smooth blend of saxophone.

You engage in simultaneous laughter, overwhelmed by the atmosphere provided for the situation. It breaks the hold he momentarily has, your hand slipping from his. That warmth settles in your belly, your voice quieter. You tuck your movies underneath your arm, meeting his puppy eyes gaze. Those fucking freckles and moles are going to undo you.

“The party starts in an hour… if you wanna swing by? Stay a while?”

Steve can’t resist, not wanting you to go, the ache in his chest too much for him to ignore. You’re so oblivious it’s cute, albeit, annoying. “You asking me to be your date? Maybe save you from a few old geezers?”

You ignore the way your heart accelerates at that tease. “No, that’s not it. You know what, you probably have plans anyways. Forget it.” You remember why you didn’t want to be here in the first place. It wasn’t him flirting, he was just talking to you, even if this is the most talking you’ve ever done. You’re backtracking towards the door and nearly on your way out when a firm hand grips you around the elbow and tugs.

You’re flush against Steve’s chest, the fabric of his sweater dragging across your exposed collarbones. A few tufts of chocolate hair fall around his forehead. “Why are you so nervous around me, huh?”

It angers you and leaves you speechless for a moment. You don’t deny it, shrugging a shoulder to try and maneuver out of the warmth his hold possesses. He shakes his beautiful head. “Uh-uh. Why?”

You let your temper lead for you. “You don’t notice me enough to know if I’m nervous around you or not, Steve.”

He scoffs, as if an incredulous impossibility, fingers rubbing along your elbow through the heavy coat. Damn, it’s really hot in here. Am I sweating?

“I noticed enough to see that new lipstick you got last time. Or when you came in with that deep red top. It’s from Leighanne’s, that new boutique downtown, right? I saw it when I was Christmas shopping for Robin.”

Your eyes widen slightly, struck by the embarrassment of your total oblivion. Steve, the idiot, is grinning. “So you hiding behind your friends every time you come in here isn’t a coincidence. Knew it.” He lips purse in an amused pop.

You swallow on a dry breath. “Yeah, well you never flirt with me, Harrington, so what am I supposed to do?”

“That’s because there’s always a crowd around you, Y/N.”

“You flirt with them,” you argue. “It’s not different, you just don’t want to.”

“Hmm…” He trails off, stepping back a little and letting you go. You resist the urge to bring his hand back, maybe… press it elsewhere. You can feel your heart racing in your lungs, this whole thing some kind of fever dream. Too fast paced for you.

“What’s.. what is that supposed to mean?” You shift the movies beneath your other arm.

“It means—“ Steve stops himself as you start to push on the door and the bell jingles, drawing his attention to something you’ve apparently missed overhead. He’s full on Cheshire grinning now. —“oh, fuck it, honey. M’ gonna show you what it means.”

You’re not prepared for those big paws to press into your cheeks, his thumb pad swiping down to smear your lipstick into a smudge, and he’s dipping in low enough that you can taste the chocolate candy he’s been eating and become overpowered by—not just his cologne—but his laundry detergent and aftershave. The music is a quickly evaporating soundtrack, an ache startling you from between your legs. Are you shaking? You’re sure that you are. Steve doesn’t give you his mouth (Which, my god, that five o’clock shadow has already started. His lips, fucking almighty they’re plush, pretty. And those map of little freckles on his cheek and… is that one on his top lip too?)

“You want me to? It’s okay?” His voice is already wrapped in a red bow, honey simmering beneath, drenching everything.

Including my underwear. Fuck me.

You nod, the action causing your noses to brush, making Steve press the barest, featherlight touch of his mouth to yours, one that has your knees filling with jelly and led weights. Are you even standing upright? He slots his lips in to fit over your own, nose’s tip pressing into your cheek, his fingers rubbing circles into your jaw, one finger sliding down to swipe across your chin. It’s a small gesture, one that helps bring the kiss to a quiet part, a light smack heard in your shared airspace. Is it the atmosphere, the upcoming holiday? You don’t know, you are only aware of how hard you’re panting, that sizzling lust dusting your bones to ash.

Steve’s pupils have blown, scattering flecks of cinnamon around the midnight black expanse. He’s looking up and pushing on your chin before you can speak to get you to look too. Hung above the door is a very familiar decoration. Mistletoe.

“Keith put it up and made sure to ‘help’ every female customer on their way out, y’know, as any good manager does.”

It makes you laugh and press your forehead into Steve’s, your spare hand finally remembering itself and coming up to pet over the softness of his sweater. “So I’ve been the most oblivious person alive? Because this all feels like a dream.”

“You’re telling me. I haven’t been so worked up to kiss a girl in years.” His thumb pokes your nose, his other hand sliding down and around your waist, holding steadily.

“I’m not like all those other girls though, Steve. Even my friends are different.” The doubt seeps in a little.

“Different is good. It’s great, actually. Kind of like you.” His lips capture yours once more, moving into slippery glide to the corner of your mouth. You’re hot lava personified, elated.

You try not moan, but it’s a deep set sound that comes out rather pitifully. He hears it immediately, a rasp squeezing around his tone. “Did you like that? I could do it again for you.”

For you.

He’s watching you with a heated stare, one that is pattering its way from your head to your toes and back again. You nod, before you use your one hand to fist that collar between your fingers. “I don’t want you to stop. And if we keep—“ You cut yourself off, because—fuck—he didn’t ask that.

The easiest smirk indents itself in the corner of his mouth. His voice sounds as if he’s been asleep and he’s awakened, ready to pounce, but all light and airy. “If we keep what? Let’s not get shy on me again, baby.”

“Baby?” You definitely said that out loud.

He reaches for the videos in the cove of your tucked arm, stepping his way into a backwards stride, pulling you along. He doesn’t even turn around and he’s tossing the tapes onto the counter, his hands working beneath your coat to hold onto you over the silk, fingers pressing into your waist, splayed down across your hips. He finds your nose to give it a nuzzle. “Do you wanna be baby, honey?”

With your own surging confidence, you wrap an arm around his neck and scratch at the nape, fingers pushing through those kept locks. “Why don’t I show you?”

~*~

Steve Harrington was ever the gentleman, persisting that you didn’t have to do anything beyond kissing, but you hadn’t been able to satiate your trembling and he’d ended up agreeing with you, or rather your lips when you’d pulled down his collar and nosed at the gold chain to kiss every freckle and mole within your immediate vision. It was an uncoordinated stumble into the closet of the break room, your back against the door, Steve pulling your coat off your body with a helpful shrug from you, his fingertips finding the straps in a filter, easing them down, the fabric pressing a shiver into your shoulder blades. You couldn’t stop the pleading babbles, trying to rip his employee vest off so he could tuck his arms back and escape the sweater. He’d been harboring a white tank top beneath, one that was tucked into his jeans, and that did in your manners. Underneath the glow of the decorative lights that someone hung in here with you, you can see his expression darken, surprised.

You’re already starting on his belt and his head is hung low, lips wet and stained with your enriching shading choice. He’s a damned goner when you get his belt worked open and the buckle clatters apart, your hands coaxing through his hair, lost in pent up lust, begging him aloud. Finally. “Tell me you want me? Tell me I can have you, Steve.”

His gaze sinks into yours, like melted caramel waiting to be devoured. His chest heaves beneath the white tank, chest hair on display, his chain glowing in closet lighting. He knees you into a sideways position, denim to silk, pushing until you help yourself slide with his assistance, ass resting on a piled stack of old seat cushions that are mounted a top a spare chair. It’s an odd display, a sloppy setup, but you’ll lay on the dirty floor to have Steve Harrington. His mouth nudges your chin in a pathing way of glittering kisses. “You’ve always had me.”

Your breath locks in your lungs, you hold it as he claims you in another bruising kiss, your own hand sliding in between your thighs, squeezing around your wrist for some friction. You can’t help it, you don’t mean to do it, but your modesty is gone when he’s got that dark look, a dry swallow on those pouty lips. “Jesus, how turned on are you right now that you’re gonna touch yourself when m’ just kissing you?”

“I can’t fucking help it.” You whimper, one hand sliding around his neck, the other attempting to leave its hold on your cunt. Steve’s wrist watch reflects the dull bulb above as it swipes through your sights and prevents you.

“Who said I wanted you to?” And the straps that are still on your shoulders, Steve slots his thumbs in between the silk and your skin, tugging them down enough that the dress folds and exposes the tops of your breasts in the strapless lace bra. He fits himself at a dedicated placing, at your side, his mouth finding your neck, underneath your chin, the lobe and shell, teeth nipping, where you know you’ll feel that later, your body already rocking into your hand right now.

Your head falls into a cabinet above, but Steve reaches up, fingers skimming along the side of your neck, to place his hand behind your head to ease the impact. It’s all hypersensitive to you. His chain sways forward as he kisses your jugular, even permitting his tongue to glide over the taste of your perfume, all the while his free hand dips onto the side of your evening gown and rubs, stimulates, letting you remember he’s here and that he wants something. You meet him in a heated stare, your hips rocking into your hand, Steve jutting out a knee to bump your wrist right back, assisting, encouraging. “Please, honey. Touch yourself for me, let me see what I’ve done to you, yeah?”

His hands meet your knees in the instance you nod, catching his thumb in your mouth on their way down. He kneels, splayed fingers pushing and shifting with you, and moments later you’re raising your hips at his gentle praises, boots going too, followed by your stockings and panties coming down, and all of it piles over your discarded coat. Both sharing uneven, chopping breathing, Steve reassures you, even as your dress hikes around your waist and your legs spread open for him to see, your fingers hovering, slick pooled in the creases of your thighs, cunt glistening. He resembles someone being sucker punched in the gut, grateful his jeans are undone to give his cock room to breathe, because fuck. You can’t believe he’s reacting this strongly to you, to your body.

You stifle a cry out, reaching for him as he comes, easily getting his tank top off. There isn’t a drop of airspace not shared, nor invaded when he’s close, informing you of a winded wish. “Spread yourself open, let’s how worked up you are, sweetheart.”

Hesitation finds no home here—instead—your fingers make a V and part your sticky folds wide enough that Steve immediately latches onto your swollen clit, and the squelch your body makes from the simple action alone, destroys his last bit of languid composure. “How about you sit back and let me take care of you?”

It’s a quest for permission he’s had since you first saw him. Your slick covered fingers leave to take your dress down on your waist, easing the bra cups to expose your breasts to him, taking his hands, your shine transferring over his knuckles as you let his palms touch you, tease your already hardened nipples. He plays with you for a mere few seconds, but it’s agonizing torture, and he frees you—momentarily—that newly mess on his head tickling your chin as he dips to lick and suck over your areola, lips perfectly pulling your nipple, only to release it again and give a soft blowing breath, then to focusing on the other, all the while his Midwest monster (because, wow. you knew it was big, but really?), is a prominent delicacy that you won’t ignore any longer. It takes a few tries to get him to hear your voice, those hazel irises obliterated. He seems to understand and realize something at the same instance, your brow pinching into a frown.

Is he regretting this? You start to close your legs, but Steve shakes his head, barely coherent. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just remembered I’m literally at work.”

You’re not seeing the point? Didn’t he bring you in here? He sighs, lowering his head into your neck and back up again, hands leaving your breasts to rest on the meat of your spread thighs. “I don’t exactly bring rubbers with me on the job, honey. I wasn’t thinking with the right head when I brought you in here. Unless you’re on the pill?”

You snort outright, the sound a booming bam in the volume of the small room. “So you don’t do this all the time then?”

He’s incredulous, chuckling once, then this weird glow covers his freckly features, almost like the Milky Way map is lighting up right in front of your eyes, but it’s Steve and the vast variety of birth marks that decorate his flesh instead. A vulnerability frames him, one that makes you reach to rest your fingers along the tops of his hands, rolling over the knuckles. That half grin he does when he answers you, you’d fall in love with Steve Harrington if you weren’t already ass over elbows. “You’re the first one here with me. The only one I’ve ever even thought about, needing—“ He’s cute when he’s quick to fumble and backtrack. “—I’m not saying you’re not worth taking home and being treated right, instead of a closet, I’m just saying I couldn’t wait. Not that—fuck—I’m such a dick—“

You shut him up abruptly, tongue licking into his mouth for a prodding entry, not your most graceful kiss, but it gets him to chill out, read the Morse code loud and clear. And you’re positively swimming in the sunlight that is Steve. You answer plain as day, already finding the dip in his hips, fingernails scratching along the skin, those marks seared into him, ones you’ll have to photograph and taste another time. He presses his thumb behind your ear, causing a shiver to erupt in pops, your body arching, crying out for him uninhibited.

“Honey,” he warns, unsteady, on the precipice of already giving in. “it’s risky.”

“Hmm,” you fiddle with the chain on his very naked chest, now that it’s clearly within your eye-line, before continuing. “Wouldn’t be such a bad thing, would it?”

The feral rumble that wraps around him, diaphragm—deep, it sends you into a tailspin. It’s Steve who arches into your touch, needy and clinging inhumanely tighter. You raise an eagerly surprised brow. “What? You like that idea, huh, Steve? Creating a little baby with me? Like a Christmas surprise.”

He shakes his head, despite your temptress tease, but it’s the opposite meaning, his palms forcing your hips deeper into the cushions. Your cunt grows wetter, thighs damn near swaying back and forth for something, anything to satiate the ache. He kisses you gently, lips tickling, damp, his knuckles raising to brush around the apple of your cheek. You speak first. “I’m not—Steve, m’ not on the pill or anything, so if you don’t want to, it’s alright, I’ll understand.”

“As long as I get to have you, I don’t care what happens.” And it’s all moving slow motion, yet, so quick from there.

Steve’s jeans and boxers end up bunched around his knees, your legs held in their posing, his fingers sinking into you slowly with a shared, open mouthed whine at the first touch. You’ve never been this fucking wet before, and Steve is lapping it up, quite literally. He samples your arousal with a pop of those defined digits, alternating between working his thumb into a stretch to press circles into your cream soaked clit. That swoop takes hold of your insides, twisting your gut and you find Steve’s hand, thighs closing around his wrist, taking his kiss in stride, despite your jagged whimpers.

“Baby, you were about to cum, why’d you stop me?”

“Wanna try with you inside of me. Is that okay?” Steve stares at you as if you’re fine china and he’s discovering buried treasure all at the same instance.

“Of course it’s alright, honey. You think you can take me without anything?”

“Oh, I think you’ve seen that there’s plenty for you to work with, Huge Harrington.” Your body heats to an unhealthy temperature, motioning to his hand. He might not be the King Steve everyone knew, but he still knows what he does have.

He feeds you his fingers then, making you taste yourself, his cock slapping against his happy trail, smearing it. You watch in fascination, all but drooling, saliva filling the corners of your mouth. His lifts your hand in his, taking it to his shaft and pulls it away from his stomach, leaving beads of pre-come behind. His diction is clear. “Get me wet enough to fuck you.”

You don’t have to struggle to hear him, obviously, the harsh swallow that has you practically choking on spit is enough to do it, and the hot, heavy feel of his thick length in your grasp. Steve’s got another signature smirk sliding its way into his mouth’s crevices, his lips fitting over your own when you take initiative and heed his request. “Good girl.”

He licks at your mouth, tongue swiping across his own lips in the process, both your gazes working their way to watch you separate your swollen folds and drench your hand, bringing it to Steve’s awaiting erection. He sucks in sharply, abdomen tensing as you work to coat his cock in your sticky essence, getting too caught up in how pretty he is like this—literally in your hand, coming apart, throbbing, heavy. He’s nodding, face burying itself in your neck, his chain tickling you collar bones. You work his tank up and adjust to have him helping you take it off, his jeans all that remain, but you two don’t bother with those. When Steve inhales as his tip catches on your clit, he stops you, those hairy thighs tensing, bumping yours further apart.

There’s that moment, exchanged breaths hung off invisible hooks, slapping back like an elastic band, and the pause before Steve is inside of you. A shift in in what once was, your earth’s axis tilting, a new normal unrolled. Steve sees you, his thumb pushing a lock of hair back behind your ear as he kisses your cheek with a delicate fondness. He takes your hand in his and presses it beside your hip, both of you holding onto the cushioning for leverage, his other finding his now creamy cock. He’s barely able to get the question out, voice gone to the winds of desire.

“You ready, sweetheart? You’re sure, right?”

You lift your other hand to his neck’s nape, nose nudging his, breathing uneven as you scoot a little more to the edge of the arrangement for him. “Never been more sure of anything, Steve.”

You can’t win the battle to see how he enters you, too focused on his busted pupils, his flaring nostrils, that look of elated concentration. He gives himself another drag down the seam of you, before his dick parts your labia and the head catches just inside your entrance. Your jaw drops at the initial push, an overwhelming ache resting inside of your tummy, washing over every muscle nearby, your entire body on fire with the burn. Your hand squeezes his, nails biting into his palm, the hiss leaving through clenched teeth. “Oh, fuck.”

Steve stops himself right away, his guiding hand paused around himself. His voice is wet with want, and you can tell he’s holding back. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

He strums your chorded nerves, kissing your mouth and letting go of your hand to swipe his thumb across the tear that’s gathered at your waterline. “Wait, this isn’t your first time, is it?” He starts to panic some, feeling worse for bringing you in a storage locker. But you’re shaking your head.

“No, I’m not a virgin. You’re just… I’ve not had anyone so t-thick. S’ been a while too.” Steve doesn’t let you close your eyes, a soft sigh settles.

“I’ll go slow, okay? And you’ll tell me if anything hurts, so I can take care of it.” It was more a demand than a question, and you naturally agree.

Steve grits his teeth on this next push of his hips, the first few inches going in with ease. You’re cunt is so slick that this won’t take long for him, and he’s worried about you adjusting to his size, despite the way it paddles his ego a little. His cupped hand reaches your body and he lets go of his cock, wet fingers tilting your chin down to see, then he brings your mouth to his, caging you in completely, chest hair dragging across your breasts. He moves, you give, and he’s bottoming out in your tight heat, his head fucking spinning and his face contorting into a painful expression that commits an affair with bliss. You can’t think of anything else but Steve and the musk he’s surrounding you with, body a switchboard of emotions and sensations.

He’s speaking to you, voice muffled and under water. You break the surface when his cock twitches inside you, your tongue slicking across your bottom lip. His balls are nestled against the globes of your ass and your forgot that you’re holding your breath, releasing it in a tremble in time for Steve to get through. “Shit, honey? Tell me I didn’t hurt you?”

You never felt this before. Full, everything being hit inside your body, all your senses coddled and tapped into. You’ve heard your friends talk about sex so good that you could cry. Well, as Steve’s eyes cast an amber glow that resembles a firelight, you can’t contain yourself. Overloaded and breathless, you rock your hips into his and gasp against his mouth. “It’s good. Fucking perfect, please…”

And you don’t know what you’re asking, but begging for. Luckily for you, Steve does. “Ah, there’s my good girl. Took me so good, so wet and warm for me.”

~*~

You meet one another in the beginning stages of your shared rhythm, a pace that is deep and relentless, the burn that Steve’s size brings only adding to your heightening discombobulation. He’s boasting praises, showering you in their wake. Your body has never felt more alive, more connected. And Steve, he’s went from steady movements, to drawing your calves over his forearms and pressing you back as far as he can get, a disgustingly sensual squelch echoing around the expanse of the room. You’re both too far gone to say anything that isn’t pure and utter filth, so why even try?

He bends down several times to take a nipple in his mouth, alternating, his hair messy from your now consistent pulling. His cheeks are stained pink, body prominent beneath the racing of his heart. That chain slaps messily across his neck and you can’t take it, marking your place, licking it to life. That latches onto Steve and steals the breath from his lungs, the effects heard deep inside his chest cavity. He can’t breathe in anything that isn’t you.

“Steve…” That familiar pressure signals before you’re able to comprehend.

Steve inclines his head and dips his hips to catch on that spot inside your sticky cunt, his hand dropping between your legs and rubbing fast circles around your clit. “That’s a real good babygirl.”

You whine, pressure boiling over, muscles licked and locking down. Steve noses into your jawline and kisses your mouth’s corner. “S’ it, honey. I can feel it. You gonna cum for me?”

“Don’t stop and I will!” You nearly bellow, making him chuckle throatily, and your vision whites out.

Steve fucks you through it and let’s you rest for a brief spell on his shoulder, before he’s throbbing inside of you and he has to look at you, wanting you to watch his face as it scrunches, the softest whimpers falling off his angelic mouth, and he tenses. “Baby… gonna come inside you.”

“Then do it, Steve.” It’s a challenge, a tease to earlier words. You tighten purposely and he sniffles, a warmth flooding you, his body slumping over top yours.

Your heart is hammering beneath your breast, which is smashed into Steve Harrington’s chest hair. He’s softening inside of your pussy, his spend already pooling around where you’re connected, available to view as a webbed shine when he pulls back, easing out, kissing you on the break away. He’s nuzzling you, not able to stop the kisses from flourishing. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“M’ glad you came in here, you know that?” He states, helping you dress first. After your legs regain feeling, that is.

“Me too.” Dorky smiles and shy grins transpire, until…

“So, you mentioned a party? I was thinking I could be your date and save you from the bore of the geezers, after all.”

~*~

One year later

“Mom! No, I told you it was burning five minutes ago, fuck!”

“Language, dear!”

Your mom’s laughter, following that statement can be heard from the next room, obviously charmed by something he said, ignoring your protests about the current dish of the night that’s about to be charcoal for the party guests. She’s never been more calm, making you roll your eyes as she finally does appear. “Don’t worry about it! Did you get the videos?”

You snort, a reminder ringing as clear as the bells playing from the Christmas vinyl on your dad’s record player. You smooth down your floor length black gown, enjoying how it flows in all the right places now. “Don’t I always?”

She shakes her head fondly, throwing a dish rag over her sequin overcoat and heading into the kitchen just as Steve appears in the doorway, his entire appearance ripped straight from vogue. “Wasn’t last year the first time you went to the video store on your own, babe?”

You roll your eyes and step towards him, adjusting his tie and the lapels on his suit jacket. His hair is a bit messy, albeit, still styled, and he’s freshly shaven. Your mouth waters like a woman dying of thirst. Twelve months ago tonight, you can’t believe it. Steve is also thinking the same way, his fingers reaching out to fondly stroke the apple of your cheekbone. “Twelve months ago. Hard to believe I get to be your date for the second year in a row.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love charming the granny panties off everyone here, Harrington.” He shifts his arm for you to cling onto, and you find yourselves locked in a kiss, only breaking apart when a cooing noise is heard from Steve’s hold.

You look down in his arms, an identical pair of eyes that match his own looking back at you, a red bow placed delicately atop her head, and the fullest tule dress your mom could apparently find at the JC Penny. But you can’t deny that it’s melting your heart, the memories, the present. Steve is soft, that reservation he’s got for the three month old baby girl in his arms is unmatchable. He bounces her a little, her stocking clad legs kicking, her shiny dress shoes way too tiny not to be cute.

“There’s daddy’s princess. You awake now, huh? Was it mommy’s bad language?” He’s smirking when he looks at you and you poke him in the mouth, making him chuckle.

Your mom’s footsteps are quick paced, making you and Steve both break apart as you hear her. Steve mutters a ‘grandma super-hearing’ and your mom immediately takes your daughter the moments he steps into the living room. It’s endearingly annoying how she stares your direction as Steve finds your hands (now that his are free). You don’t get the chance to ask her what she wants, before she’s voicing it herself, giggling at yours and Steve’s daughter. “So, I’m getting another one of these for Christmas next year, right?”

The implications cause you to heat up, making Steve get cocky and tease once she’s out of ear shot. “I’ll have to save you and our daughter from the geezers. But if your mom wants another one, wait—“ You frown, Steve leaning in, that raspy voice like melted caramel by your ear, tickling the lobe and electrifying your entire body. “How big is the closet in your old bedroom?”

Happy one year anniversary indeed.

#kristenwrites #my writing #my work #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things blurb #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 3 months

Text

Everybody Hurts

Chapter 24

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.

18+ Only for eventual smut

Word Count: 4.4K

Masterlist

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Five Months Later

The air was cool and crisp, the sun shining down brightly as people moved in and out of the house, hauling boxes. The trees blazed a multitude of shades of orange, red, and yellow, crunching underfoot and rustling as they fell off the trees, floating to the ground like a colorful snowstorm with each gust of wind. It was that kind of fall day that you wished you could bottle so you could experience it again and again.

The neighborhood was an autumn wonderland. The yards were lined with pumpkins, scarecrows, and skeletons. Jack o’ Lanterns grinned widely from porches. Everything was spooky and festive as if Halloween had taken over the entire world. The energy was full of mischief, children running and biking down the streets, their laughter and chatter filling the air, anticipating the holiday that was now only a couple weeks away.

The season brought with it a feel of transition and change, a moment to step back and reflect on everything that had led to this moment. A sense of peace settled over you as you watched your friends: Eddie yelling at Steve for slinging his guitar over his shoulder, Dustin and Robin bickering about who had to carry the box of records, Nancy taking charge and directing everyone, Max snapping at Lucas for drinking the rest of her water.

They were all here, this group of people that had somehow become family to you over the course of a few short months. Hopper had even pitched in, offering the use of his Chevy Blazer. Him and Joyce were currently somewhere inside the house. Uncle Wayne was just pulling in with the last load, Mike and El crammed into the front with him. Jonathan and Will walked over to meet them, all five of them grabbing boxes to carry inside.

The idea to move in together had been fairly sudden. What had been even more sudden and shocking was that it had been Eddie’s idea. You couldn’t believe he was ready to take such a big step after only six months of dating. But it hadn’t taken much thought on your part. You smiled at the memory.

The wedding was a grand affair, full of pomp and circumstance. Of course it was. Cam wouldn’t have allowed it to be anything less, never passing up an opportunity to show off for the masses. Eddie and you had sat toward the back of the church. You'd picked out a new dress for the occasion, teal with gold, brown, and red details, a plunging neckline and a high slit up the thigh.

You weren't trying to get Cam back but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to make him regret what he lost. Besides, the look on Eddie’s face when you'd opened the front door had been worth every single penny it had cost. His fingers kept grazing the ample amount of skin on your leg that the dress exposed, a promise of what was coming once the two of you got out of there. Every brush of his hand, his lips caressing over your jaw, dirty words detailing what he wanted to do to you whispered against your ear, sent shivers of desire straight down your spine.

The doors opened, Cassie appearing in mountains of tulle, looking stunning. Not that it was a surprise. Your friend might be a snake but she was a beautiful one. Cam smiled at the sight of her but then the smile faltered, his eyes widening, when he noticed you sitting there. Eddie gave him a little wave and a wink, wiggling his fingers and winding his arm around you, pulling you in close to his side.

You sat through the service, Eddie whispering in your ear the entire time, making you giggle. He asked you which bridesmaid Cam would have in his bed before the honeymoon was over. He whispered how Cam looked like he needed to take a giant shit as he was struggling through his vows, his eyes darting over to the two of you laughing. When Cassie began rocking back and forth on her heels nervously, he quoted Spaceballs.

“Going right past the altar, heading down the ramp, and out the door. Run Cassie. Run before it’s too late.”

You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh that was threatening to burst from you. But Eddie was accomplishing exactly what his goal had been. He was keeping you from sinking into your feelings, keeping you from bursting into tears or raging in anger, sitting and watching the two people who betrayed you promising to love each other forever.

The happy couple hurried down the aisle, avoiding eye contact with you like you were the sun that would burn them to ash where they stood. You told him you could skip the reception as you walked out to his van. The two of you had done what you'd set out to do. They’d both seen you and knew they couldn’t chase you away, knew you'd moved on and found happiness. They had not broken you.

“Are you kidding? Pass up free booze, a party, and the chance to make them even more uncomfortable? No fucking way, princess.” He grinned, hand wrapping around your hip, pulling you into him. “Besides, you look way too damn hot in that dress not to show you off.”

The reception was even more opulence, a banquet befitting royalty. The cake was a goddamn work of art, multiple tiers with buttercream roses. It was all grandness and luxury. Cream tablecloths, white roses, twinkle lights draped from the ceiling, a fairytale come to life. It made your own wedding pale in comparison. You hadn’t had near the money that Cam had now and he was spending every damn cent of it to be certain everyone there knew how far he’d come.

Eddie’s hand stayed on the small of your back, letting you know he had you as you made your way through the hall. Your former mother-in-law stopped in her tracks, her face a mask of stunned mortification when she almost ran into you, heading up to check that everything was okay, of course. The woman was a micromanager and she would not allow anything to ruin her golden boy’s day.

You had always hated that about her. She always had an opinion about everything from the colors you picked for your walls to the way you had gotten your hair cut. Cam would call his mommy to whine every single time you were upset with him and here Cheryl would come, armed and ready to battle for her son, reminding you how good you had it. That you were lucky Cam had chosen you because you both knew he could have done far better, how you were riding his coattails, and if you didn’t want to lose the comfortable life you'd grown accustomed to then you better forgive him. How many times had you done just that? Ignoring all the red flags until they were so glaring you couldn’t anymore.

“I…well, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I would think not Cheryl but I was invited so I felt it would be rude not to at least make an appearance. You know, wish the happy couple the best on their special day.”

“Oh, how very…kind of you,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “Honestly, it took a lot of courage to show your face here. I would have thought you’d be too embarrassed to be seen after everything that happened.”

“Wait. By everything that happened you mean your son banging her friend behind her back? Not sure why she should be embarrassed that your kid couldn’t keep it in his pants and realize what a good thing he had when he had it.” Eddie stepped around you with a grin. “Eddie, by the way.” His arm wound around your waist, pulling you into his side. “I’m the guy who’s pretty damn thankful he didn’t because I know what a good thing I’ve got.”

“How…” Her eyes tracked him from his head to his toe, no doubt thinking he was far beneath her son with his long hair and tattoos. “Lovely for you both. If you’ll excuse me, I have far more important things to attend to.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to keep you from making sure the second wedding goes smoothly. Might want to cut back on the third one, though. With your son’s track record, this kind of party could get very costly for you.”

Cheryl’s nostrils flared, her face as red as a tomato. You could see she wanted to spit something vile at Eddie but her concern over how others perceived her won out. She could never let anyone think she was anything less than the perfect hostess. With a snort, she stomped off, her heels clacking loudly through the hall.

“Jesus Christ,” you laughed, burying your face against the sleeve of his jacket. “You definitely made her shit list.”

Eddie’s lips came together, an annoyed puff of air blowing out, “Well, she can get in line. It’s not the first nor the last list my name is on. It pisses me off that she acted like you should be embarrassed about a damn thing when her son is the one who should be hiding under a rock after the shitty stuff he did. That woman can kiss my ass.”

“Hey?”

A rippled of anger traced its way along your spine at the sound of that voice. How could she have the audacity to even speak to you after everything she’d done? You had been counting on the fact that the two of them would avoid you like the plague once they saw you at the wedding. You'd never expected either of them to actually approach you.

“Cassie,” you stated, the word harsh, two syllables that scratched your throat like knives coming up, as you turned to look at your former friend.

The beautiful bride smiled, uncertain and nervous, “We didn’t really think you’d come. I mean, we sent the invite hoping…but we didn’t think you’d be ready to forgive and move on. But we’re both so glad you’re here, that you’ve realized that we never meant to hurt you.”

“Realized? Forgive?” you seethed. “I’ve realized nothing. I don’t forgive a goddamn thing. You two willingly hurt me. The two people who were supposed to love me, to be the ones I could count on. You hurt me and you did it purposefully and don’t feed me any bullshit about having no control over your feelings. You knew exactly what you were doing and what it would do to me. You just didn’t care. You’re both selfish and pitiful excuses for human beings. And you know what? I’m glad you have each other because you deserve each other.”

“Please. I don’t want to lose you…”

“You already have. You lost me the minute you decided to jump in bed with my husband. You’re both nothing to me now. Enjoy your miserable existence and when Cam inevitably decides to cheat on you, don’t come crying to me. I’ve moved on. I’ve found people who actually care, who actually have my back, and who actually love me.” You smiled up at Eddie. “Enjoy my leftovers, Cassie. I’ve moved on to a gourmet meal.”

Taking Eddie’s hand, you pulled him behind you. He grinned, sticking his tongue out at Cassie as he followed behind you. Cam glanced over at you both and you gave him the middle finger.

“Son of a bitch!” Eddie whooped. “You were brutal.” His hands gripped the sides of your waist, pressing you against the cool brick of the building. “That was so fucking hot.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Hell yeah.” His nose traced over your face as his hand glided up your leg, taking full advantage of the massive slit in the side to slip around and grip your ass. A whimper escaped your lips as the evidence of his arousal pressed against you. “Fuck, sweetheart, this dress has been killing me all damn night. I don’t know if I can make it all the way home.”

“Your van has plenty of room,” you whispered.

“Son of a bitch. That’s why I love you. So resourceful,” he groaned, grabbing onto your hand, dragging you across the parking lot, your steps hurrying to keep up with him.

Eddie threw open the back doors of the van and you crawled inside, him right behind you. The doors slammed loudly and then you were flat on your back, Eddie’s lips devouring yours, tongue not even waiting for invitation before it was exploring your throat.

Your hands grabbed at the front of his pants, quickly undoing his belt, unbuttoning, sliding his zipper down. You pushed his dress pants and his boxers down over his hips. Reaching down, you wrapped your hand around his cock, firm as you moved it steadily along his length.

Eddie groaned, his forehead pressing against yours, “Jesus H. Christ, baby. You’ve got me so fucking wound up. I can’t wait. I need that pretty little pussy.”

His hands skimmed up your thighs, pushing the dress up to your waist, his lips moving along your neck, his hard length pressing against you. You wound your legs around his hips, needing that beautiful cock so badly right now. Eddie’s hand grabbed your wrists, holding them together above your head as his other hand guided himself to your entrance. He pressed into you slowly, his eyes focused on yours the entire time.

“Oh shit…” you gasped as he buried himself to the hilt within you, pausing and relishing the feel of your bodies coming together in sweet perfection. “Eddie…”

“I know. Jesus, you feel so fucking good, princess,” he groaned as he began to move his hips, his cock stretching you completely.

Your hands came up to rest on his back, your fingers digging into the skin along his shoulder blades. He was moving agonizingly slow, drawing out the experience. It felt incredible but you were aching for him to move faster, harder, to completely take you, own you, make you his.

“Eddie, please,” you pleaded, rocking your hips in an effort to show him what you needed.

“Words, sweetheart,” he urged, that little smirk playing at his lips, causing that dimple you wanted to dive into to appear on his cheek once again.

“Eddie, faster…harder…please…fuck me,” you managed.

“Your wish is my command, baby,” growled Eddie as he thrust into you with force. The van began to rock and you cried out in relief. “Tell me, baby. How does it feel?”

“It’s fucking amazing,” you panted, your nails raking along the skin of his back, causing him to hiss.

Eddie gripped your calf, lifting your leg up by your ear and you gasped in pleasure as this new angle created brand new sensations, pleasure rocketing straight through your core. His other hand released your wrists, gripping the headrest of the driver’s seat as he drove into you again and again, your bodies colliding over and over in a frenzied blur of want and lust.

“Shit, princess, I’m close,” he rumbled. “Come for me, baby. Touch yourself. Need you to come.”

You obeyed, your hand snaking between your bodies, your finger finding your clit and working over it. It didn’t take much. Eddie had you so wound up, your body was just aching to let go. Your entire body tensed, back arching, as your orgasm rolled through you.

“That’s a good girl. My good girl,” praised Eddie, thrusting once, twice, and then his body stilled, pressing into you, his grip on your leg tightening and you felt as his release filled you, a strangled roar rising from within his chest.

His body shuddered over you and his head dipped down, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. He collapsed down next to you with a grunt, his arm resting over his head, releasing a long, slow breath of satisfaction.

“Fuck. That was…fuck…” he muttered softly.

You blew out a long breath, “Yeah…”

“We should move in together.”

“What?”

You rolled onto your side, looking at him, wondering if you'd heard what you thought you'd just heard. He rolled to face you, a soft smile on his lips, his fingers trailing up and down your arm.

“We should move in together. Is that crazy? I mean, I know we’ve only been dating for four months but I know you’re what I want. And we’re thirty. We’re not young, dumb kids. Well, not young anyway.” His body shook gently with laughter. “I love you. You love me. We spend almost every night together anyway. So, why not?”

Were you really hearing this? Was Eddie, the guy who’d kept you at arm’s length, the guy who’d tried to run from you twice, was asking you to move in with him? The guy who was locked up tighter than Fort Knox? The guy who used the mask of being a jerk to hide in plain sight? You couldn’t believe it. You'd thought it would be at least two years before this topic was brought up, if at all.

“You don’t want to?” he asked, head tilting forward to catch your eyes, those brown orbs absolutely melting you. “That’s okay. It’s probably crazy anyway, right? I mean, what was I thinking? You just got out of this ridiculously long relationship and you’re finally living on your own. You probably don’t want me moving in, invading your space, making messes and being loud and annoying…”

“Eddie,” you said, cutting him off. You pushed yourself up, moving to straddle his stomach. Your hands cupped his face, smiling down at him. “I would love nothing more than for you to invade my space. Hell, invade my entire life.”

“Yeah?” he asked, teeth flashing as he grinned.

“Yes, but are you sure you want to move into my place? You’re good with leaving your house?”

Eddie shrugged, fingers dancing up and down your thighs, “It’s just a house. I don’t care. I know your house means something to you. And now, we can fix it up together. Make it ours. I mean, if you’re cool with that.”

“Of course. If you’re living there, it’s your house too. I just…I’m surprised you’re ready for that.”

“What is there to be ready for? Sleeping next to you every night? Waking up next to you every morning? Coming home to you after work? Baby, I’ve been ready for that. We’ve been sharing our space but Prom Queen, I want to share our lives. I’ve never…I mean, you know, I’ve never had anyone that I was willing to share everything with. But you, I want to. I want to tell you everything. I want everything that’s mine to be yours because I’m yours, sweetheart.”

Tears stung your eyes as you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “I’m yours Eddie, completely and forever.”

You inhaled slowly, taking a deep breath of the crisp, fall air, a smile curving your mouth at the memory. That moment you had felt a happiness you'd never known and today, watching as your friends…no, your family, because that’s what this group had become, helped Eddie move in, you were feeling it again.

“What are you all smiley about?” teased Nancy, bumping her hip into yours.

“She’s feeling all grossly giddy because she’s in love and her boyfriend’s moving in,” Robin teased, leaning her head on top of your shoulder.

Steve snorted, “These two have been inducing nausea for the past four months. I’m happy for you both but you could tone it down just a bit for those of us who are hopelessly single.”

“Speak for yourself, loser,” Robin huffed. “I happen to have a date tomorrow night.”

You spun so fast, you almost sent you and Robin tumbling to the ground, “Seriously? Oh my god. Tell me everything!”

Your friend beamed, pink highlighting her cheeks, “Her name is Claire and she brings her Corgi in to get groomed once a month. She’s so damn pretty. Long black hair and these eyes that look like the ocean at night. I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask her out for months. At first, you know, I wasn’t sure if she was interested in people like me.”

“You mean girls?” laughed Nancy.

“Yeah. Look, it’s not as easy for me as it is for you,” Robin stated. “You approach the wrong girl and she could get very pissy very fast. But then she was talking about her ex last month and she said that she didn’t like dogs. So, I had my answer. I knew I had to ask her. It was like fate had just dropped her down in front of me or something, you know? So, I finally did and she said yes! We’re going to dinner and then to a haunted house tomorrow.”

“Oh my god. Tell me you’re not going to…” you began.

“The one Eddie works at? Obviously. How many haunted houses do you think Hawkins has?” Robin snorted, blue eyes rolling skyward.

Eddie was a scare actor every Saturday night while the local haunted house was open. He’d convinced you to come check it out last week and may have convinced you to do other things behind the scenes. He was rocking a Ghostface mask and as much as you thought it would be weird, it had been oddly hot.

“Robin, when he finds out you’re bringing your date there…”

“Who’s bringing a date where?” asked Eddie as he strolled up with Dustin, beads of sweat sparkling on their foreheads. Poor Dustin’s curls were smushed underneath his cap.

“Robin has a date and she’s bringing her to the haunted house tomorrow,” Steve answered. “Make sure you give them the special treatment.”

“Sorry, Harrington. I’m a taken man,” Eddie replied, snaking his arm around your waist. “And I already gave my girl the special treatment last week.”

“What do you…oh my God!” Dustin yelled. “You did it in the haunted house?”

Eddie shrugged, “I mean, it was fun.”

“What if someone saw you?” asked Nancy.

“That just makes it more exciting, dollface,” he grinned, tongue slipping between his teeth.

“Okay…gross,” gagged Steve. “Not the special treatment I was talking about. I meant to scare the living shit out of them.”

“Oh, well, now that I can do.”

Robin shoved him in the stomach, “Don’t you dare. I swear, Munson, if you ruin this for me after I’ve been waiting six months just to ask her to go out with me, I will kill you.”

“Calm down, Buckley,” he groaned, rubbing his stomach with a wince. “I’m not gonna mess up your romantic little evening. Besides, isn’t that why you go to a haunted house? To have the shit scared out of you?”

“It’s a first date. I would rather shit not come into play at all.”

“That’s fair,” Dustin nodded. “One time I was having some serious gastrointestinal issues and Suzie…”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! No thank you!” Steve protested, waving his hands in front of him.

The sound of two short honks had all of you turning to see a small blue Nissan pulling up in front of the house. The driver’s door opened and Millie stepped out, waving to you all in greeting before opening the back, retrieving a box wrapped in white paper with a gold ribbon.

“Millie!” you exclaimed, walking over to the woman who had quickly become one of your favorite humans on the planet. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, you told me this was moving day, right?” she asked. “I brought you all a housewarming gift.”

You chuckled, “But I already lived here.”

“Yes, but you didn’t live here with someone you loved. Now you do. That’s something to celebrate.”

Eddie approached, taking the package out of Millie’s hands and you went in for a hug. You inhaled the scent of her, cinnamon and vanilla, just like the coffee shop.

“Millie, you didn’t have to do this,” Eddie told her as he leaned in for a one armed hug.

“Of course I didn’t have to but I wanted to. It’s just a little something to mark the occasion. Now go on. Open it.”

Eddie handed the gift to you and you carefully untied the ribbon, handing it to him. You opened the box, pulling out a round white wooden sign. Black letters spelled out the words, ‘Home is not where you’re from, it’s where you belong.’ You blinked against the tears formed in your eyes, so touched by this thoughtful gift from this lady who had been so kind to you since day one.

“Millie, thank you. I love this.”

The older lady placed a comforting hand on your arm, “I know you came here because you were running from something but maybe there was a reason.”

Your eyes immediately met Eddie’s, the two of you sharing a smile, “I know there was.”

“There sure was. This is your home now, honey. You belong in Hawkins with all of us.”

Eddie stepped into you, pulling you into his side, his lips pressing against the top of your head, “She really does.”

You looked around at all your friends who were now sitting all over the porch and the stairs, taking a well deserved break. You looked up at Eddie, that face you wanted to see every single day for the rest of your life. This was your life. Maybe it wasn’t the way you'd pictured it. Maybe some of the chapters had gotten rough and bumpy. Maybe there were moments when you wished you could hit the rewind button and change things.

But now, you just wanted to hit pause, to live in this moment, with these people, forever. You'd not just found a home but friends and family. You'd found your person. You were actually grateful to Cam and Cassie because if they hadn’t have done what they did, you would never have found Eddie and you knew, with every fiber of your being, that he was the missing piece you'd always been looking for.

“You ready for this?” you asked, tilting your face up to look at him.

“Baby, I was born ready,” he grinned, his lips finding yours.

And we have arrived at the end of Sam and Eddie's story. Thank you so much to all who had read, commented, and supported this little story of mine. Every single one of you is a bright life in my life even if I don't know you personally. Your comments and reblogs always make me smile. I will be taking a bit of a break before starting another long Eddie fic. February is going to be busy for me and I will be going on vacation for a week with my family. But no worries. I already have some ideas brewing. The Eddie hyperfixation is still strong. I will keep updating the Steve one as I finish chapters for those who are reading that one as well. So much love and hugs to all of you!

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Omg what about a steve x reader where his parents dont even bother to be home for christmas so the reader plans a big christmas dinner / afternoon with all the kids and the teens and Steve gets to experience the holidays with a loving found family and maybe a mistletoe kiss too?

AN | Ooh, this idea is so cute 🥺

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.4k

Masterlist | Steve, Main

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“Merry Christmas!”

“Fuck!” Steve’s eyes grew wide as he found you standing in the doorway with a sheepish smile on your face. He softened when he saw that it was you, but remained poised with the knife in his hand. You raised an eyebrow at it, and he set it down with a small sigh, “I didn’t even hear you come in! Are you some kind of ninja?”

“Sorry,” you offered him a pretty little smile as you bounced over to him, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. His large hands settled on your waist as he pulled you closer, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, nose, and forehead before stopping at your lips, “hey, my love.”

“Hi angel,” he brushed his against yours before sighing softly, “wasn’t expecting you till later.”

“Things wrapped up early at my aunt and uncle’s house,” you looped your arms around his neck, playing with the soft curls at the nap of his neck, “so I came to see you because I missed you and wanted to see you!”

“You saw me last night…”

“And I still missed you, Steve,” you whispered, causing him to blush shyly as a pretty rose pink settled in his cheeks, “cause I’m kind of in love with you, ya know?”

“I love you,” he promised, his brows quickly furrowing, “wait a minute - why Merry Christmas? It’s the day after Thanksgiving!”

“Exactly,” you nodded eagerly, “it’s Christmas now! So that means only holiday foods, Christmas music, and everything festive! And I had a brilliant idea.”

“Oh no…” there was nothing but soft affection between his words but you put your hands on his chest, “tell me then…”

“I was thinking we could go and get a tree today!” your enthusiasm was normally infectious but today you swore you saw his face fall, “and get an early jump on everything! My dad’s going to be traveling for work a lot this month so he won’t care what we do and I’m not sure about your parents-”

“They’re not going to be here,” he cut you off and there was a weird edge to his tone. He’d never snapped at you like that, and you recoiled from his touch, “and they never are.”

“I-I didn’t know,” your voice was soft as you took a step back from him, a frown tugging down the corners of your mouth, “I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t mean-”

“No, it’s fine,” he shook his head before looking at you with apologetic eyes, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“‘s okay,” you touched his face, stroking over his cheek, “we’re okay, my love. How about we just stay in and watch movies today? Be all lazy and cuddle?”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a small smile, turning his head to press a kiss to the palm of your hand, “that sounds perfect.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d thought about what Steve had said for several days after. He had seemed so upset when you even mentioned Christmas that you made you loath to approach the topic again. This was the first holiday season you were spending together as a couple, and at all - you’d only meet him at the beginning of the year when you’d moved to Hawkins. You knew that his parents were absent and distant, but you didn’t know that had applied to the holidays too.

You didn’t want to upset him further, so you’d ended up talking to his friends about it, and they were able to enlighten you. But…that didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it made you feel worse. Steve Harrington, your golden-hearted and sweet boyfriend, had never had a proper Christmas. Not since he was a very young boy, and he didn’t even really remember that. It broke your heart; Steve did so much for everyone else, did so much to make things good for the ones he loved. He gave and gave and he really asked for so little in return.

But this year you were going to give him everything you could and make it the best Christmas ever. This year Steve was going to be the one that received, he was going to get everything that you had to give. And, naturally, everyone else was on board with your little plan.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“You still haven’t told me what we’re doing,” Steve’s gloved hand was holding yours, thick fabric wrapped fingers entwined as well as possible, “you could be taking me to get murdered for all I know.”

“Relax,” you gave his hand a squeeze as you slowed your walk down the block, “I would never murder you! I love you too much for that…”

“Then what’re we up to?” he raised an eyebrow in suspicion and you giggled at him, “you’re a devious little thing, you know that?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you insisted, leaned over to press a kiss to his wind-chapped lips, “but I do hope that you trust me…”

“Of course…”

“Good,” you started to pull him to the end of the block and didn’t stop until you were standing in front of the biggest tree lot in all of Hawkins, “then I hope you’ll help me find the perfect tree.”

“Baby…” he looked between the rows of lush, green trees before looking back at you, finding a soft, pleading little look on your face. As much as Steve wasn’t initially jazzed about the idea, he couldn’t say no to you, his angel, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” you promised softly, taking his other hand so you were holding both of them, “I know the holidays haven’t always been the best for you, Steve, but I want to change that. I want to start new holiday traditions with you - you’re my family Steve, and that’s what matters. Not what’s happened in the past, or anything, just now and us. I-I love you, and I hope you know just how much. But I also understand if it’s something you’d rather not do. I just thought it might be nice…”

“I want to,” he promised softly, and you could see the glossiness of his eyes, and the slight tremble of his pretty pink lips. You looked at him with hopeful eyes and he nodded before leaning in and kissing you gently, “I really want to. You’re some kind of magic, huh?”

“No,” you shook your head softly, “I just happen to love you so, so much and want you to have the best Christmas ever.”

You wiped away the few tears that had rolled down his cheeks. He reached for your hand and pressed a kiss to your knuckles through the gloves and all, causing you to chuckle lightly, “thank you.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” it was a soft, reverent promise, “now come on, the perfect tree is out there waiting for us to find!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You took a step back and looked around the large living room, taking it all in. The tree was up and fully decorated, the fireplace was crackling merrily, with two stockings hung on the mantle, along with lots of other decorations. You'd managed to find a couple boxes of old ornaments and decorations tucked away in the Harrington attic and pulled them out, along with the new ones the two of you had picked out. The whole place was decked out and festive, warm with love and affection.

Steve was finishing putting up the tree topper, looking at you to make sure it was placed correctly. You nodded eagerly, giving him a thumbs up as he started to climb off the small step stool, “wait! Stay there for one second.”

“What are you up to, silly girl?” but he remained rooted in place as you ran up the stairs, listening as you fumbled around for a few moments before running back down. You almost tripped over your own feet, “slow down or we’ll end up with a trip to the ER!”

“It’s fine,” you held up the polaroid and waved it at him eagerly, “I wanna take your picture! We can start a whole new scrapbook.”

His entire body flooded with warmth as you held up the camera and he grinned at you. For the first time in a long time his smile for a photo didn’t feel forced or fake, but it was large and genuine. You snapped the picture and pulled it out as soon as it printed, shaking it gently before setting it onto the counter. Steve climbed down and came over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist before gently picking you up and spinning you around, which caused you to giggle happily.

“Merry almost Christmas, my love,” you whispered when he set you down. The two of you were looking at each with sweet, shy smiles before you leaned up to kiss him, “everything looks beautiful.”

“Still not as beautiful as you,” his smile was cheeky as you playfully huffed at him. He fought off any remarks as he gently kissed you, “merry almost Christmas, angel.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The best part of having absentee parents was that you could spend as much time at Steve’s as you wanted. At this point you basically lived with him, stopping by your place only when you needed some clothes. Otherwise you were practically glued to him; you were on winter break from college and you were taking full advantage of it. You’d get up early to make sure Steve had something to eat before work, often stopped in to bring him and Robin lunch at Family Video, and liked to have dinner ready by the time he got home. He insisted none of it was necessary; you reassured him that you knew but still wanted to do it for him. He’d never been cared for as much as he took care of everyone else, and you enjoyed getting to do these types of things with him. Any moment spent with Steve was worth it.

“I think we have everything now,” you set down a bowl of crushed peppermints onto the table. You were decorating gingerbread houses together, and had pulled out all the stops, making sure you had everything you could have dreamed of, “these are going to be the best houses ever!”

“And I’ll bet mine is even better than you could ever dream of,” he teased, sticking his tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes dramatically as he leaned over and kissed your cheek, “hate to break it to you.”

“Oh? That sounds like a challenge Harrington,” you grabbed some of the frosting with a determined look on your face, “it’s on. Don’t cry when I win.”

“As if,” but there was a pretty smile on his soft lips as the two of you got to work. There was soft music playing on the radio as you both worked on your little houses.

The two of you worked happily, random conversations popping up here and there as the afternoon passed. Steve had started a fire that warmed the whole downstairs as snow lightly fell outside. The freshly baked gingerbread (yup, homemade - you weren’t cutting any corners this year) filled the house with delicious smells. You wouldn’t have changed a thing about that day.

“All done,” you grinned happily as you looked at the little house you’d created. It was far from perfect, but still extremely cute and you loved it, from the cracked peppermint snow to the little marshmallow snowman you’d constructed, “whaddaya think, Stevie?”

“It’s cute,” he looked it over, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully as he silently appraised your work, “not bad for some amateur work.”

“Amateur work?” you feigned offense as you clutched at your heart, “I’ll have you know that this is easily professional level craftsmanship! Let me see yours then, handsome.”

“Here you go,” he turned his towards you and you couldn’t help the way your mouth opened in surprise. He had done an excellent job for someone claiming it was his first time; the house was well constructed and adorable with all the little candy decorations. He’d even created two little people that were in the little yard, “tell me it’s not perfect.”

“It’s…amazing,” you admitted sheepishly as he grinned happily, looking ridiculously cute, “I love it, Steve. I like the little people too, very creative.”

“It’s us,” he whispered, trying to gauge your reaction. When he saw how your smile grew he couldn’t help but relax, “us in the future in our very own house.”

“It’s just missing a few things then,” you whispered as he raised an eyebrow, “like a dog or a cat and a couple of kids for starters.”

His big honeyed eyes studied you as your cheeks warmed up along with a sweet smile. A nervous breath escaped his lips as you nodded softly, “do you mean it?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, “if that sounds good to you.”

“More than,” he leaned over and kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a soft, saccharine little kiss before he rested his head against yours, “it’s perfect.”

“I think so too,” carding a hand through his hair, you gently scratched at his scalp as he leaned into your touch, “I meant it when I said you’re my family, Steve.”

“I know,” he closed his eyes and exhaled shakily, “I’m so in love with you.”

“Me too, Steve, me too.”

“And this totally means I won, right?” he asked as you laughed, shaking your head in amusement before nodding in agreement, “what’s the prize then?”

“Whatever you want, handsome.”

“I can think of a few things,” his hands settled on your waist as he pulled you into his lap, kissing you with a growing neediness and hunger, “including you.”

“Yes, please.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

On Christmas Eve you woke up early to soft sunlight streaming in through the gauzy curtains and Steve still sleeping soundly next to you. He had an arm wrapped around your waist, his face burrowed into the pillow next to you as he snored lightly. You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before untangling yourself from his long limbs. He made a small sound of protest but didn’t fully wake up and sank back into the covers.

You wanted to get a jump start on the way and tiptoed downstairs to start on some breakfast before wrapping some of the presents you’d acquired for Steve. They weren’t anything grand or over the top, but small, special things you hoped he’d like. The rest of the gang was going to come over in the afternoon to spend the day together, a surprise that no one had spilled to Steve through some miracle. You wanted this to be the most special of all, and what better way than to spend the day with all of your favorite people?

Whatever divine being was out there was on your side today because you had just finished placing the last of the presents under the tree and turning on the lights when he padded downstairs. He looked so pretty, despite having just woken up with sleepy eyes and wild bedhead.

“What are you up to, hmm?” you flounced over to him and leaned in to kiss him, ignoring his protests about having morning breath. You brushed his hair out of his eyes before brushing your knuckles over his cheek.

“Nothing,” you lied sweetly, “just got up early today, ‘s all.”

“Mhmm,” he quickly picked you up, causing you to squeal in delight as he walked to the kitchen where breakfast was just about ready, “you already did all of this?”

“Yup,” you grinned as he set you down on the counter, “wanted to have it all ready for you, my love. Happy Christmas Eve.”

“Thank you,” he bit the inside of his cheek as he ghosted his fingers along your jaw before resting his hand at the base of your neck, tenderly stroking the soft skin there, “this has been the best Christmas of my life. All thanks to you, angel.”

“Not all thanks to me,” you insisted, pressing a soft finger to his lips, “but this has been the best for me too.”

The two of you studied each other for a few moments, exchanging soft breaths and shy smiles, accompanied by soft kisses. Before you could get too lost in him, you put a hand on his chest before gently pushing him back, “we should eat breakfast before it gets cold and you end up taking me to bed.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he teased as you slid off the counter and went to pour coffee, “never heard you complain before!”

“Oh, I’m not,” you insisted, grabbing his favorite mug, “but there’s much to do today! No rest for the wicked.”

“You’re up to something…”

“Me? Never,” you grinned sweetly, but he could see through your façade, “just…have things to do today.”

“Mhmm…” he didn’t believe you but wasn’t about to push either - he’d get it out of you one way or another.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d just finished showering and getting dressed - despite your insistence that Steve wasn’t taking you to bed, you hadn’t turned him down - when you heard the doorbell ring. You grinned as Steve looked at you in confusion, still finishing his hair.

“I’ll get it,” you almost ran out of his room as he cast a curious look at you. He shook his head as he listened to you run down the stairs before he heard the creaking of the door. You grinned when you saw Dustin and Eddie accompanied by the rest of your friends, “hey guys! You’re just in time! He doesn’t suspect a thing.”

“Everything’s going according to plan for once,” Eddie handed you a bunch of mistletoe just as you had requested and you made a small sound of delight. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before stepping aside to let everyone in.

Once the whole gang was inside, you heard Steve coming down the stairs. You all waited with bated breath as he realized that you were all here. His entire face lit up with happiness as he looked at everyone, “what’s all this?”

“Merry Christmas Steve,” you held your hand to him, motioning for him to come down. He eagerly took your hand, softening when you laced your fingers together, “it’s Christmas Eve and what’s a better way to spend the day than with your family?”

“Nothing,” he agreed, letting his friends all take turns hugging him, “this is wonderful you guys!”

The afternoon and evening was spent with lots of eating and playing some silly holiday games, while cheesy holiday movies played in the background. There really wasn’t anything that you could have thought of that was better. While you chatted with Robin and Nancy and Steve hung out with the boys, you could feel his gaze shifting back to you every now and then. It brought a smile to your face every time, making you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

It was late by the time everyone had left and you were thoroughly stuffed from all of the delicious and worn out from all of the festivities. You glanced around the kitchen as you took in the mess, letting out a small but happy sigh. Everything could wait until tomorrow, you decided.

Steve was clearing some of the trash out of the dining room when you decided to put your little plan into action. You grabbed the mistletoe and held it behind your back as you stood in the doorway. Steve looked over and a smile crossed his features as he came over to you.

He looked at you with the softest expression, “thank you for everything, sweetheart. Today was….it means the world to me, you know?”

“I’d do anything for you, Steve Harrington,” you promised, “but there’s one thing I’d like to ask of you.”

“Name it - anything.”

“Will you kiss me?” you held up the mistletoe as high as you could and looked at him with wide eyes as he beamed at you. He nodded softly, his hands finding your face as he leaned in and gently kissed you, right there under the mistletoe. He pulled back when you were both breathless and giddy, “merry Christmas, my love.”

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered against your lips, “the first of a lifetime together.”

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

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incorrectmarvelquotesss · 6 months

Text

— flufftober (day 2) —

Warnings: fluff, alcohol consumption, some sexual content

Prompt: “You’ve told your parents?” (alt2)

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: ~900

@flufftober

The beat of the music dropped, everyone going quiet with it before jumping in the air and yelling as the guitars and drums went on again. Drinks sloshed in their cups, some dripping onto the shoes of young adults who couldn’t bring themselves to care yet. They would complain about the stains littering their clothes, the headache that made their head spin, and muscles that burned in the morning.

For now they were trying to forget it all.

They wanted to party before midterm break was over and they would have to bury their noses back into their textbooks with caffeine stored beside them. Before the professors started droning on about a class that some of the students were forced to take and had no interest being in, but their grades were being accounted for. Even some of the highest ranking students were there, some keeping to their known groups while some let loose and ventured further to talk to new people.

Bucky looked down and sighed, turning to lean against the wall with his shoulder. He swirled his glass and took a quick sip of the cheap liquor inside.

Maybe a year ago he would have been drunk beyond measure, ready to have some reckless fun. Maybe he would have already been adding new numbers to his phone, giggling girls hanging off of his arms and him trying his best to seem interested. He might have been letting some random girl he couldn’t remember the name of grind on him.

But now his gaze was focused on you, standing beside him with a gentle grin on your face as you talked with exaggerated hand movements. Your eyes lit up when Bucky smiled softly—Steve was probably somewhere in the crowd telling Sam that he was making heart eyes at you. His eyes dropped to your lips for a second, just to see your pink lipstick still smudged from when he had kissed you in the kitchen while grabbing a snack.

His chest swelled with warmth and something close to pride, seeing the remnants of his sneaking around with you. He shifted his weight, eyes still on you, as he realized he should be listening to you. It wasn’t his fault that he was so hopelessly in love with you that he got distracted every time you were near.

“… don’t know if I should go home for the holidays. They expect you to be there, but I’m pretty sure you—”

“You’ve told your parents?” Bucky blurted out, looking at you with wide eyes. “About me?” His heart was beating faster with every second that passed, pounding against his ribs as if it was trying to jump out into your hands.

You laughed nervously, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear and then intertwining your hands together. You averted your eyes from him for the first time this evening, watching a couple sneak into one of the rooms, which happened to be Sam’s bedroom. Bucky thought it served him right for hosting this stupid party at the apartment they shared.

“I mean, yeah. Is that weird?” Your eyes trailed back to him slowly, nodding your head to answer his question. You lifted a shoulder to your ear, dropping it a moment later along with your smile. You looked at loss for words and Bucky wasn’t doing much better.

His ears were thumping with blood, cheeks scorching hot and his lips left parted with a breathy huff. He was spinning without moving from his spot, the room seemingly deciding to do cartwheels. When you seemed to dim and looked around as if searching for an escape, Bucky snapped into action. His lips spread into a wide smile, dimples and crinkles and all.

“Hey, honey, listen to me, ‘kay?” Bucky started, reaching out to you with his soothing voice and gentle hands. His hands cupped your face and held you to look at him. “It’s not weird. I was just surprised is all.”

“Why?” You looked dumbfounded, confused as his calloused hands and fingers from batting without gloves swiped across your skin. You were so soft and warm, making his heart ache sometimes with your beauty.

“‘Cause—‘Cause I—I didn’t know how much I meant to you, Y/N,” Bucky started, licking his lips when he saw your gaze soften in understanding. “I thought you might—I ain’t the best man in this room. I don’t have the best reputation with relationships, y’know?”

His Brooklyn drawl had started to become more apparent with his nerves. You merely smiled sadly at him, turning your head so you could place three delicate kisses on his palm. It was gesture he knew so well with how much you did it to show your love. You never said it out loud—neither of you did—because you both just knew.

“But you’re here with me, right?” You smiled up at him, more easy and bright. He nodded quickly and waited for you to speak again. But, instead of talking, you went up on your toes and kissed his lips, waiting for his hands to drop to your waist before locking your arms around his neck.

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you murmured against his lips, only for his ears to hear. His heart stuttered at the proclamation, an adoring sigh escaping his lips as he exhaled.

“I love you too,” he whispered, ready to prove it to you over and over again.

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this-witch-writes · 1 year

Text

Part 3 (Show Don't Tell)

back to: part 1, part 2

'Nothing's ever going to be good enough for his highness, is it?'

The words echoed in the small space. Steve got out of the van and knew he had to leave. He didn’t want to, he was a snotty crying mess it, but over it, if he stayed in Hawkins begging to be loved any longer he would end up at the bottom the quarry by the fastest route.

It wasn’t like he had much to pack that he cared about. He didn’t care much about clothes beyond looking presentable. Two pairs of jeans, some shirts, and a pair shorts would last him until he planned his next move. It was the personal stuff that took time to pack. With the trunk of his car full, he left a message with Robin’s dorm roommate that he was driving out to New York and that he’d call her again from a motel along the way. He repeated the ‘no need to worry’ part of the message twice but he knew that she would worry anyway.

Steve drove for a few hours that night until he got to a motel so he’d be further away before he second guessed himself. He called Robin in the morning, once he was done pretending he could sleep, nervous about what she’d say. She’d never been sure about him dating Eddie. Robin had bonded with Eddie over the summer, Upside Down survivors and all that, but apparently she hadn’t liked the King of Freaks any better than King Steve back in high school. ‘Same macho social cliché bullshit, different dress code’ she’d said. She wasn’t sure Eddie and Steve were “compatible”.

So Steve dreaded the ‘I told you so’ even though he knew it wouldn’t come if she knew he was genuinely upset.

‘What’s wrong?’ Were the first words out of her mouth when she answered.

‘Me and Eddie broke up’ Steve sniffed. ‘I needed out of Hawkins so I’m driving to New York.’

‘You’re always welcome, dingus,’ Robin assured him. ‘Do I need to be mad at him?’

‘No?’ She scoffed at how unsure he sounded. ‘He didn’t, like, cheat or hurt me or anything.’

‘Jesus your bar is low, Steve-o.’

He laughed bitterly. ‘Right? Still asked too much though.’

‘Was it the “I love you” thing?’ Robin guessed. They’d talked about it over Christmas break. Even though Eddie had been lovely and attentive, Steve was still upset that he hadn’t said I love you back. Robin had told him to ask Eddie once the stress of the holidays passed.

‘Yeah. I finally asked him if he loved me and he acted like I asked him to run an errand on the moon. Bit my head off.’

‘Like actually angry?’ She was surprised, which was fair, it was out of character.

‘His exact words were “Nothing's ever going to be good enough for his highness, is it?”.’

‘Oh fuck that guy.’ Robin growled supportively. ‘Was there something going on? Were you fighting about something that made him think you were trying to pick a fight or something?’

‘No,’ Steve frowned. ‘Two minutes earlier everything had been perfect, that was kind of why I asked?’

‘I don’t get it.’

‘He acted like he loved me. He made me so fucking happy, Rob. But every time I said it, he just brushed it off, never acknowledged it at all, not even to say he needed time or something. He was being so sweet that it confused me so I asked and he snapped.’

‘You’ll be here by tonight right? We’ll talk more then.’ Then her voice went much softer than usual. ‘Sometimes we love someone, but that doesn’t mean we should stay with them, you know? I love you, dingus, no matter what.’

Steve teared up. ‘Love you too.’

Was that so hard to say?

It was a long drive before Steve hit New York and got smuggled into Robin’s dorm room. Her roommate was nearly always with her boyfriend at night so wasn’t there to complain about Steve squashed into Robin’s twin bed with her. They didn’t talk that night, he was too tired. They don’t talk immediately the next day either. Steve lets Robin show him around Columbia, take him to trendy cafes and look at graffiti. Then they find a grotty diner and the whole story comes out. To Steve’s surprise, Robin’s first response was ‘you should call him.’

‘Wait I thought you didn’t want us together?’

‘I didn’t say that,’ she complained. ‘I said I wasn’t sure it would work out because you were too alike in some ways and too different in others, which like…’ a pointed silence took the place of an I Told You So.

‘Then why…?’

‘Because he’s still our friend and even if you guys breakup, he deserves a better goodbye than a weird cryptic note you wrote while panic crying.’ Robin wasn’t mincing words.

‘Harsh.’ He grumbled.

‘But true.’ Then she took him back to the dorm and sat him by the phone.

‘Hello?’ A deep voice answered, not Eddie. Dammit.

‘Hi Wayne,’ Steve croaked, awkward and shaking. ‘Is Eddie there?’

‘He is.’ Wayne’s voice was level. ‘He’s been pretty damn upset, Steve, and I do think I said something to you about that.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Steve’s too tired to point fingers. Eddie started it would just sound ridiculous anyway.

Wayne just sighed at the meagre come back and shouted for Eddie to come to the phone. Given the stern way Wayne had warned Steve not to hurt his nephew back in the fall, he had gotten out of their first post-breakup conversation pretty lightly. It still ached though.

‘Yeah?’ If Wayne’s voice had been carefully level, Eddie’s was roadkill flat.

‘Hey, Eds.’ Steve swallowed around the lump in his throat. ‘I’m sorry I just took off like that, it was childish. You deserved better.’

‘But not sorry you left?’ Eddie sounded wounded and small.

‘I couldn’t breathe, Eddie,’ Steve gasped, like speaking it made it true. ‘It hurt that you wouldn’t say it, but it hurt more that you acted like I was crazy for even thinking it.’

‘Why are you still acting like I don’t love you!?’ Eddie snapped back, frustrated to near anger.

‘Because I asked and you freaked out!’ Steve shouted back. ‘I practically had to bully you into admitting we were even in a committed relationship at all.’

‘I’ve been committed!’ Eddie snarled. ‘I might not care about labels as much as you, but I’m not the one who ran!’

‘Because I’ve already spent my whole life waiting for people I love to want to love me too.’

‘What more could I have done?’ Eddie sounded tired. ‘I’ve been there though the nightmares and the bad days. I took care of you and was honest with you and never forgot you hate mushrooms…’

‘And I’m so grateful, you did more than I would ever have asked for, I never said you weren’t lovely just that you didn’t love me.’

‘Why do you think that?!’

‘Because you never say it! I say it and you smile and nodded along and when I asked you, needed to hear it, you acted like I was a spoiled child asking for more cake!’

‘Maybe you are a spoiled child!’

Steve hung up. He couldn’t take it anymore. He slammed the receiver down and curled up on his side, sobbing. Robin had stepped awkwardly into the corridor to give him some privacy but could obviously hear enough to know when to rush back in.

‘I’m sorry, Steve,’ she hugged him tight. ‘Maybe I was wrong about calling… what do I know about relationships?’

‘No,’ he sniffed. ‘I needed to hear that. I needed to know it wasn’t just one silly thing, that something was really wrong.’

‘If you’re sure.’

‘I have to be now.’

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

#steddie #steddie drabble #stranger things drabble #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie angst #my fics #steddie fics #robin buckley

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 1 year

Text

Surprise Guest

Characters: Clint Barton, Reader, Kate Bishop

Warnings: None

Summary: Kate is shocked when you’re the ‘help that Clint Barton called.

“How - how did you find me? In this totally random New York apartment?” Kate was absolutely bewildered, closing the door behind her.

You took off your gloves and sent the young girl a wink. “I mean, I am an Avenger. I could find you from a hole in the ground with a toothpick and battery.”

Completely awestruck, Kate’s eyes widened. “So cool…” She couldn’t help but admire.

You turned your attention to the man waiting patiently in the living room, eyes darting to the mask component of the Ronan costume.

“That,” you started pointedly. “That’s the first reason why I’m here.”

Clint couldn’t help but scoff. “You think I want to be dealing with this thing during the holidays?” He retorted and then mirrored the pointed look at his friend. “By the way, the Avengers Compound was broken into. You know, the thing that you’re meant to have locked up.”

You pulled out your holopad and began typing into it, “That’s actually the second reason I’m here. A break in happened only a few days ago and I’ve been trying to track down some missing items.”

A blue light emitted from the device and then displayed a virtual screen. There were all kinds of items being shown as pictures and a video of the last time they had been used in action. Pointing to the top right corner, you directed their attention to footage from Wakanda.

“Just yesterday I managed to retrieve the shield that T’Challa gifted Steve from the war before The Snap.”

Clint stared at the various images and folded his arms. “How many?”

“Just a handful. I’m searching for the others as fast as I can but right now, that suit is causing a stir amongst some very bad people.” You explained.

Suddenly, a hand sheepishly raised itself and you turned to Kate who was now sitting on the arm rest of a sofa.

“Hi, Kate here. You don’t need to worry about the Ronan suit, Clint and I are on the case.” Kate informed, her tone was bubbly and optimistic. You actually wished Peter Parker was in the room just to see what chaos they’d create.

Smiling at the young woman, you nodded and switched the hologram off. “I know, I saw that little team up on the street and it was pretty amazing. You’ve got some skills with the-“

“Can I have a word with you?” Clint said abruptly stopping your conversation.

Kate took the hint and excused herself from the room, opting to take the dog for a walk. Once she was out, Clint exhaled. The worry and weight of this mission showing on his face.

“What are you doing? Why are you encouraging her?”

You stepped to the side and sat where the young girl had been, smiling. “She’s got skill. It might be worth teaching her a trick shot or two.”

“This life will get her killed or worse.”

“This life is what she’s been dreaming of and she’s not going to back off so easily. She needs a teacher who can show her the ropes and the reality of the dangers. Clint, wouldn’t you rather help her survive?”

“I’d rather she wasn’t involved.”

You shrugged and leaned back. “That’s just it - this life chooses us.”

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #clint barton x reader #clint barton imagine #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop x reader #hawkeye imagine #hawkeye x reader #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

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makeadealwithme · 1 year

Text

Stay With the Bags

Summary: You and Steve get stranded at the airport before your flight home for Christmas.

Author's note: Steve fluff, short and sweet and it jumped out of my brain today. Thinking about everyone who's travel has been interrupted due to the winter weather in the US <3

Warnings: None really, fluff, mentions of food, pet names.

Word Count: 1.9k

____________________________________________________________

Tick. Tick. Tick.

It’s the sound of Steve’s watch and it’s driving you mad. His arm is slung casually over your shoulder, wrapping around to pull you close while he fiddles with a Rubik’s cube in front of you. You’re frustrated. You’re tired. You’re uncomfortable. You’re at the airport. Correction – you're stuck at the airport.

Your extended family had invited you to stay over the holidays, and to be honest there wasn’t much reason to say no. Steve’s parents would be out of town and the promise of warm, sunny, Florida provided a much needed escape from the bitter cold that was rolling through Indiana. Your parents left a few days earlier, you and Steve planning to fly later as you both took a couple extra shifts at work. Unfortunately, the bitter cold turned into a winter storm that seemed to perfectly intercept your travel plans – cancelling your flight out and leaving you stuck in the airport for hours beyond what you were anticipating.

You huff in frustration, maneuvering out from under Steve’s arm. “I’m going to take a walk, see what food options we have,” you grumbled at him. His eyes snapped to you, slight concern on his face. You weren’t usually such an unhappy traveler, but the early morning start, hours long security line, last minute flight cancellation, stuffy airport full of people, and desire to be with your family was getting to you. Steve could see this of course, and took it upon himself to be a steady rock, a problem solver, a cheery and caring boyfriend, to get you both through the day.

“You hungry? Want me to come with you?” He offered. You just shook your head.

“Nope. Stay with bags alright? I’ll be five minutes.” You sauntered off, shoulders hunched in a defeated posture. Truthfully, you just needed to do something that would kill the time.

You walked to the end of the terminal and back, inspecting the stores along the way, taking note of the restaurants that were open and not too busy. You came across a coffee stand, one that didn’t have an extensive line and decided to stop and get something for the two of you – a warm coffee for you, a hot chocolate with peppermint and extra whipped cream for Steve, and a pastry to split in the meantime. You spotted Steve from a distance as you approached your spot again – his leg uncomfortably propped up on the chair, jacket pulled tight around him, rubbing his eyes and yawning. Poor thing looked exhausted, you thought.

You timidly approached with your drinks in hand, and when he saw you his face absolutely lit up. You offered him the cup. “Here, got you your favorite.”

“Aw, baby, you didn’t have to do that.” You sit back next to him, looping your arm through his to be close again.

“No I wanted to. It’s a thank you for being so great, and an apology for me being in such a shitty mood.”

He chuckles next to you at that. “Must be one incredible hot chocolate then.”

“You know it, got you extra whip and everything.” You both take a sip of your drinks, watching him out the corner of your eye.

“Mhm, yeah I think you’re forgiven.” He leans over and gives you a peck on the cheek. You can already feel your tension melting away. “Honestly, I think we have a right to be in a shitty mood, this totally sucks.”

That was really all you needed. The admission, the acknowledgment of it. “It totally sucks.” You repeat at him, leaning your head onto his shoulder. “How many more hours have we got?”

Steve looks at his watch. “...about six.” He stutters it out. You dramatically groan, turning into him even more.

“We’ll never make it.” You mumble into his chest, all forlorn and dejected. You can feel him laugh again under you.

“Geez, what’s with all these dramatics huh? I think you’ve been hanging out with Eddie and Robin too much.”

You face him with a woeful pout, about to deliver some response before he interrupts you with a kiss, followed by another one, and then a smattering of them all across your face. He didn’t stop until you were giggling in front him, trying to swat him away. “Ah there she is,” Steve coos at you.

You melt back into the chair, stretching your legs in front of you. Your eyes going unfocused as you take in the constant stream of people walking up and down the halls. The two of you finish off your drinks and pastry as Steve gets up, giving your knee a light squeeze as he throws your cups away. When he comes back, you’re puzzled when he doesn’t sit down. Instead he collects your bags, layering them all on him so you don’t have to carry anything. “You going somewhere Steve?” you asked, a little amused at his actions.

He gives you a delightful grin and with a shake of his head he says “Come on, let's go find somewhere quiet to hunker down yeah?”

You spring to your feet, following him through the crowds. He seems to be moving with intent, so you know he must have a place in mind. You stand behind him on the escalator, a steady hand to his back so he doesn’t topple over with all your luggage. You watch his eyes scan the top floor, locking on to the empty open corner along the balcony that would suit you both perfectly. He beelines for it, almost knocking over other unruly travelers so they wouldn’t get to the spot first. You struggle to keep up with his long legs, and once you reach him he’s unloading himself from the bags and turns to you with a triumphant smile. “This good? Cozy, right?”

You couldn’t deny the boy had somehow made the corner of an airport enticing, the grey carpet no longer seeming gross but inviting as you sat yourself down. “Perfect Stevie.” You manage to say, before a loud grumble from your stomach interrupts you.

Steve raises his eyebrows in amusement. “Hungry?” You nod your head at him in embarrassment. “Well, what you hungry for? I’ll go get us something.” You scrunch your face in thought, but your brain was too tired to choose. You settle with a defeated shrug and a small sound that communicated I don’t know, you choose to Steve.

He just chuckles at you again as he leans in a gives you a chaste kiss to the top of your head. “Alright hang tight I’ll go find something.” He starts walking away, yelling “Be right back, watch the bags!” You give him a thumbs up as you watch him disappear down the escalator again.

The minutes felt like torture. Your hunger grew more intense by the second, and if Steve could see you clutching your stomach right now you just know he’d call you dramatic again. You looked around at the other stranded travelers, everyone looking just as miserable as you before tucking your backpack behind your back to lean on.

It was about fifteen minutes later when Steve returned, like a knight in shining armor with two bags of fast food in his hand. You broke into a big grin, sitting up in anticipation. When he got to you, he explained that the fast food lines were the shortest, that you two can go for a “real meal” at a restaurant later but he didn’t want to make you wait any longer. You let him ramble about his journey as he laid out the feast in front of you, your eyes fixated to it. He got plenty, with two milkshakes to top it all off. You couldn’t help yourself, snatching the last burger out of his hand, swiftly unwrapping it, and sinking your teeth into the biggest bite you could handle. You let a satisfied moan escape your lips as you chewed on, like this was your first bite of food in days.

Steve continues to be amused at the way you're acting. “Jesus, if I only knew how to get you to make that sound in bed” he teases, taking a handful of fries and shoving them in his mouth just the same. You shoot him a comical glare, too cute to look mad Steve thinks. It only lasts a second though, before you lean over and give him an enthusiastic and greasy kiss of the cheek.

“My hero!” You dramatically swoon at him while he fakes annoyance, theatrically rubbing the kiss off his cheek. His smile betrays him though, a quiet “eat up, buttercup” directed at you as he tucks into his own burger.

When you're finished you’re both way too full. Now slumped over your bags, backs against the wall. Silent but satisfied. “How much longer we got?” You muse. Steve flips over his wrist and groans.

“Four hours.”

It was your turn to groan too, flopping yourself down over his lap and throwing your arm over your face.

“Ok well you could say it’s closer to three and half!” Steve rushes to say, bouncing his leg to jostle you in the process.

“It’s over Steve! We live here now! We belong to the Indiana airport!” You wail, all melodramatic and overdone.

“Jesus babe, you really gotta stop hanging out with Eddie so much.” He scoffed. He goes to lift your arm off your face but you refuse, turning into him to bury yourself in his torso. You can feel his abs tensing as he laughs again. “C’mon, talk to me, what are you most excited about for Christmas?”

You knew it was all a ruse. A leading question to get you distracted. But you played right into it.

“Getting on our plane.”

“Mhm alright, good thing that’s the first part of the trip yeah? So how about after that?”

You take a moment to think.

“My grandma’s cookies. She makes ten different kinds.” Steve smiles, encouraging you to go on. “And I guess Christmas morning, seeing everyone in their pajamas and sitting around the tree. And then probably my dad’s eggnog. Steve I think you’d really like it.”

“I’m sure it’s great honey, anything else?” He figures the more he can keep you talking, the faster time will go.

“Waking up next you on Christmas.” You turn to face him at that, sending him the sweetest smile accompanied by a tap his nose.

His nose scrunches at your touch, and he quickly grabs your hand before you can pull it away. “Yeah, I think that’ll be my favorite part honey.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.” He leans down to give you another kiss, slow and tender and making you forget where you were for just a moment.

As he pulls away he thinks he’s soothed you, hoping for no more misery and complaining for at least a little while. Unfortunately, Steve hadn't been as charming as he thought he was.

“How much time we got left Steve?”

He drops his head in defeat, reluctantly showing you his watch. Before you can say anything, he’s propping you up, standing once again to gather your bags.

“Alright, moving on to plan b. Let’s go raid the bookstore.”

“Do I get to pick one out?”

“Course honey, consider it an early Christmas present.”

You almost tackle him in a hug, swaying back and forth from the momentum.

“Thanks Stevie.” You give him another peck on the cheek, and he knew that you meant it for more than just the book. Honestly, in that moment, he thought he didn’t mind being stuck in airport, as long as it was with you.

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #christmas theme #stranger things one shot #12 days of christmas

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captainsimagines · 1 year

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pretty woman, this is me trying || finale

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(14/14)

Mini-Series

Warnings: explicit language; reference to past SA; heartfelt confessions

Word Count: 2,000+

Author’s Note: Now, to be honest, I really hoped to make these chapters longer. But I wanted to published on Christmas Day and I haven’t had time to write all month. I truly hope I wrapped up this story well, and who knows? It could have epilogue next year or next month. I love you all. xxMoni

The day after Christmas was no better. Three times you had dressed and undressed, debating whether to leave your apartment and go speak with Bucky. You were both overthinking this and you were both in the wrong. Bucky shouldn’t have kept treating you like a flaky friend or kept his initial indecision a secret, and you shouldn’t have stormed away without hearing him out first.

You needed to see him. But your body wouldn’t let you get in your car and take matters into your own hands.

You flopped face-down onto your bed, releasing one long groan. When your lungs ached with the need for air, you sucked in a breath and repeated the process. Groaning until your throat was sore. You rolled over, instantly regretting it. You had washed your sheets, but not the pillowcases.

That heavenly mixture of snow and Starry Night. No swirling irises to accompany it, though.

“Do you want to come back the day after Christmas and show me how to jump?”

He chuckled, “It’s a date.”

You snapped up, replaying the words in your head.

Rockefeller Center, ice skating, the date.

Would Bucky remember? Would he even go?

You had to try. You missed Bucky, you missed Axel, you missed who you were when Bucky was with you. You missed the feeling of companionship. Of choosing who to spend that time with.

You didn’t want to be lonely anymore. Lainey would have kicked your ass all the way to Rockefeller by now, you bet.

After throwing on your winter jacket and boots, you sprinted out your front door, tripping only twice. Then turned back to your apartment, grabbed Bucky’s present, and repeated the tiring process of putting the key in the lock.

Stopping at Lainey’s old door, with absolutely no regard to whoever occupied it now, you declared, “I’m going to win him back. Because I love him, and I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“Are you sure she’ll be here?” Steve asked as he opened the car door for Bucky. Rockefeller Center looked to be even more crowded than the last time he had come. It was like a cruel joke, making the search for you that much harder.

“She was the one who suggested it,” Bucky explained. “And if what you said is true, she’s not mad at me.”

“Oh, she was mad. Maybe not with you entirely, but she was mad.”

Bucky scowled at his friend, though he was grateful to have a second pair of eyes aiding him. Bucky was grasping at straws. Either you remembered that you had suggested this date and had the same idea as him, or you forgot and he was here when he should be at your apartment.

Or—the worse option—you had remembered and chosen not to come.

Bucky hadn’t really thought about what he would do if that was the case. He was a big boy, and although it would hurt him to bits, he would have to survive. Your time teaching him how to receive touch again would not be wasted. He promised himself that.

“You take one side and I take the other?” Steve suggested, adjusting the baseball cap. “Or do you want to stick together?”

“We can cover more ground separated,” Bucky replied. “Don’t worry. I’m okay.”

Steve studied him for a moment, then took his word. “Text me when you find her.”

Bucky nodded, watching as Steve blended into the crowd.

Step one: Pass through this chaos.

Taking a deep breath, Bucky prepared his mind. None of these people were out to get him and self-defense was not necessary. Most people were here with their family and friends, not plotting the end of the world with his metal fist in mind. He clutched your gift as he held it in his jacket pocket, then moved.

Bucky pushed through the crowd, apologizing for shoving people too hard and smacking his shoulders against them. Most people moved out of his way, allowing him some air. He searched every visible face, every occupied bench, every person exiting from the buildings. He guessed you would be near the ice rink considering that’s where the date was going to take place, but he still focused everywhere.

Someone’s shoulder brushed across his shoulder blades, paralyzing him for a moment. It was a quick touch, one that was over before he could truly dwell in it. His body told him to run back to the car, to find refuge in his mountain of blankets. That behind his apartment door is where he would be truly safe.

Though his body craved that comfortable feeling of safety, his idea of safety was no longer the loneliness found behind a closed door. His safety was encased in your touch, in your bedsheets, in your presence.

So he continued to push and shove through the crowd, counting his breaths and picturing your face. This was for you. It would always be for you.

His heart stopped as he took in your face for the first time since you walked away from him. You had painted your lips red and thrown on the same cardigan and jacket that had been hanging on the hook beside your front door for the entire month now. You caught his line of sight, freezing in place.

He pushed through the last of the crowd, stopping a few feet from you. You had your hands in your jacket pockets, but you were still shaking in your boots. Bucky wanted nothing more than to run to you and provide you some warmth, but there were words that needed to be said. Things that needed to be addressed.

“If you want to leave me, I will fight you.”

Your eyes widened a fraction at his unexpected declaration.

“When Stark told me to find a date, I refused because I physically could not swallow that reality. I said no, but I had no choice.”

He continued quickly when your face fell. “But I told Stark that I trusted his judgment. He gave me an out, but I had already met you. You were loud, and inappropriate, and reminded me of me from when I was young.”

“Bucky—”

“A part of my innocence was stolen from me long ago. And as much as it kills me, I know I’ll never get it back. I didn’t deserve to have it ripped from me. I deserved happiness, and a home to return to, and soft hands and soup and a little corner store to call my own. But life fucked me over, and I got none of that. I got tortured, and wiped, and… assaulted, in a thousand ways. And for the longest time, I thought they stole the whole of me. I thought there was no hope. That there were no soft touches left in the world. But you… You make me want to try again. You make me believe that people can still be good in this world. Because you’re good, and you’re good to me, and I love you. I love you more than hot chocolate, more than biscuits, more than the Santa Clause movies. I love you. And I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment you threw your arms up and introduced yourself. I’ve wanted you since our first picnic. I’ve wanted you since the first touch. I want you, I love you, and I just pray that you want me, too. That you love me, too.”

Multiple tears dripped from your eyes and down your cheeks. And when Bucky reached up, he found his cheeks were wet as well.

“I don’t expect you to quit your job or be solely mine. But I find myself running under your sweet nothings and I don’t want to abandon that feeling just yet. So I declare, the day after Christmas and surrounded by strangers, that I choose you too. I am scared of the world, and what they think of me, but I am not scared of you.”

“Bucky.”

Bucky sucked in a wobbly breath and pulled the bracelet from his pocket. It was handmade, green, and had a little L carved into the stone.

L for Lainey.

You stopped in front of him, turning the bracelet over in your fingers. Then you let him put it on your wrist. You cupped his cheeks with your surprisingly warm hands. Bucky whimpered sweetly, chasing the heat.

“I think you are courage incarnate, Bucky Barnes. Believe it or not, but you make me want to be strong. I have been lonely for so long and you showed me that friendship was still a real thing. I thought I had lost it forever, doomed to be stuck in a world that did not appreciate me.”

Bucky laid his forehead against yours, nearly hiccuping as your words pierced through his burning heart.

“I am yours. Only yours. And I’m sorry for being in my head too often.”

You pulled out a pair of fancy, leather gloves in his size, blushing. “It’s not as sentimental as the bracelet, but—”

He pressed a deep kiss to your mouth, holding you close. His chest warmed against yours instantly. His knees only needed to bend slightly to reach your lips. Your pinkies curled perfectly around each other.

How had he not noticed this before?

“Take me home,” he whispered, using his thumbs to wipe your tears away.

You nodded against him. Then, you giggled uncontrollably, melting against him.

“What?”

“Don’t forget Steve.”

Bucky shot a surprised look down at you. “How did you—”

“I know what his eyes feel like boring into my back by now.”

Sure enough, Bucky glanced up to see Steve watching your exchange with a genuine smile on his face.

“Do you trust me?”

Steve huffed, his knuckles turning redder as his grip tightened against the railing. When Bucky had mentioned that Steve had always wanted to come to Rockefeller Center with him in the 1930s, you had assumed Steve knew how to ice skate. You didn’t expect a trembling Captain America scared to find his balance and refusing to let go of the support.

“I trust you, but if I fall then you’re going down with me by default.”

“Fair. Now let go of the railing,” you ordered, holding out your hand for him to take. You hadn’t told him you were a beginner ice skater yourself. But you figured, since Tony rented out the rink for private use for the next six hours, it was the perfect time to test this out.

Steve murmured a curse under his breath before reaching out his left hand. His right still held onto the railing, so he began stretching and involuntarily splitting his legs. “Help! Help!”

“Let go!” you laughed, taking his extended hand in your own. He slunk back together rather comically, wobbling as he gripped both your hands. “Now close your eyes and skate!”

“Wha—Why should I close my eyes?”

“It’s the only way to truly trust yourself!” you lied, sounding creepily authentic. You pushed off, taking him with you. He argued twice more before finally shutting his eyes, allowing you to lead him anywhere.

“There we go! You got it! Keep those eyes closed!”

He thankfully listened, unaware of where you were leading him. You would think his super soldier hearing would alert him of a new pair of skates on the ice, but his anxiety probably clouded his thoughts.

With a quick nod, you expertly exchanged Steve’s hands into Bucky’s.

Skating away but still at a close enough distance, you called out, “You can open your eyes now!”

Steve nearly tumbled, but his expression was one of pure elation. Uncontrollable, joyous laughter spilled from his mouth.

“Buck!”

Bucky only smiled, tugging Steve closer. Hand in hand, flesh on flesh, they skated the perimeter together. Not once did Bucky drop Steve’s hand.

It may have only been a battle won for Bucky, but this was an entire war won for Steve Rogers.

He was touching his best friend again. If it wasn’t for you, for Bucky’s determination and strength, it wouldn’t have been possible.

You skated to the railing and watched the childish men for the next hour, wiping away tears whenever they dropped from your eyes. Lifting your hands up, you snapped an imaginary picture. To save for later. To think about whenever you thought something was impossible.

Then you snapped another, a real one using your phone, for safekeeping.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #captainsimagines #finale #pretty woman finale #pretty woman au #marvel fanfiction #by Moni #holiday fanfic #holiday smut

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frostandflamesfanfic · 1 year

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Secret Santa (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Secret Santa (Rated G)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings: None! Although, I'm sure my interpretation of secret santa is incorrect -- just a heads up.

Summary: For Stevemas Day 11; This Christmas, Robin decided to host a holiday celebration to bring the party together. When she adds in a little extra magic by starting a secret santa, Eddie recruits himself to help you find that perfect gift for that special someone.

It took you three times to read the two words on the page before you could finally understand it. Steve Harrington was written in red glitter pen on the folded slip in your hand. It was unmistakably Robin’s messy scrawl, but it still felt as if it was written in another language. Surely this couldn’t be right.

“Alright,” came the voice of the aforementioned bubbly coworker. “Does everyone have a name for Secret Santa?”

There was a low murmur of agreement, followed by the crunch of paper, which spread throughout the Wheeler’s basement. Why you all continued to set up a base of operations in your best friend’s home remained a mystery. Perhaps you were just creatures of habit. Routines kept you safe, comfortable even.

“Who’d you get?” The low voice of Eddie Munson caused you to quite literally jump from your thoughts. When he noticed your flinch, the metal head gave a small tut of concern. “Hey, you’re alright, you’re okay. It’s just me. It’s just…me.”

Ever since the attack, you’ve been considerably on edge. While nightmares took over your nights, paranoia filled your days. Every action could set you off. Whenever you closed your eyes, you saw it: that place and the horrors it contained. It happened so often and it felt so real. Sometimes you worried Henry had made his return. You had taken to sleeping with your Walkman at night, just in case. Never again did you want to return to that hellscape.

Eddie repeated his question. “Who’d you get for secret Santa?”

“Why don’t you just mind your own business, Munson?” you snapped at the metalhead. “I think I’d be violating some sacred oath of the secret Santa if I told you.”

“I got Henderson,” Eddie supplied far too quickly. He rested his chin on your shoulder and tilted his head to look at you. “There. Now you have to tell me. And I know it isn’t me…you’d be grinning like the Cheshire cat if it was.”

You sighed and held up the slip of paper clutched in your palm. Eddie wasted no time in snatching it up like the little gremlin that he was. A slow quiet whistle escaped him as he took in the name. “Well damn,” he said. “Didn’t you get lucky? This should be easy as pie for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The curly dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow at you in surprise. “You mean you’re not?” he asked.

You shook your head. “Eddie, what are you talking about?”

“You and Harrington. You’re not…together or anything?”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. Sure, you had found yourself spending more time with Steve Harrington over the last two years, but it didn’t mean you were together. The Upside Down had messed with each and every one of your friends, who you considered to be more like family by now. Your panic somehow ended up bringing you closer to Steve, a guy you only admired from afar during your high school days. If you had told your freshman self you would be swapping horror stories and spilling blood with King Steve, you’re pretty sure they would have a heart attack.

The truth was, Steve had turned out to be the exact opposite of what you imagine. He was gentle and kind. The two of you had formed an unofficial nightmare prevention club. The near-nightly meetings would consist of multiple-hour-long conversations over stretched out phone cords or late night drives around downtown Hawkins. Other times, it was just silently sitting in Steve’s dark and abandoned living room, grip tightened on small objects hidden under blankets. These moments were your battle scars and it would be a long healing process. Fortunately, the two of you had gotten really good at being there for each other in the meantime.

“No, Eddie,” you corrected with a heavy sigh. “We’re not together. We’re just–”

“Friends? Yeah, right,” your friend shook his head with an angry passion. “Don’t go bullshitting me here, kid.”

“I’m not-”

Eddie held up a hand to your face to silence your argument. “Listen,” he said. “You might not see it, but I do. All of us do, actually. The two of you have been practically joined at the hip these days.” He tilted his head toward Steve’s direction. The man of the hour was talking to Robin at the time, the two of them getting into another one of their half-hearted arguments over something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“You can’t tell me there isn’t something there, babe,” Eddie’s tone now softened. “I see the way you look at him.”

Your lower lip became the punching bag for a barrage of anxious bites as his words echoed in your mind. I see the way you look at him. Was it possible you had feelings for Steve? You continued to watch him as he maneuvered his way through the party, Robin continuing to ramble on as she followed on his coattails. It was almost effortless how he moved, sending smiles to each of the kids as he passed by. They were genuine with their accompanying eye sparkle, something you knew after the hours of late night conversations.

It was a side effect of Steve realizing he didn’t need to change who he was to be respected by others. Besides his adventures with the kids, he talked a lot about his childhood and what it was like growing up with parents who were more concerned about appearance than their child’s happiness. He shared with you once how he felt being a member of a family meant acting in the world’s longest lasting play. You always had to play the part of the perfect person, he had explained, hiding your imperfections and letting go of the important things everyone else thought were stupid.

“Ya know,” Steve mentioned at one point, “I think my parents would care less if I came home or not when they’re in town. As long as I was making a name for myself that was…positive and they could compare to some other set of snobs. Not some nobody who makes a lousy four bucks an hour shelving tapes every day.”

It broke your heart to hear his story. “Steve,” you had tried to console. “You’re not a nobody.”

“Not to you, or Henderson,” he relented. “God, I think the kid would probably have a heart attack if I didn’t answer to his every beck and call. Damn kid thinks he’s entitled now.”

You didn’t miss the ghost of a smile that dimly lit up his gaze as he spoke about Dustin. That “damn kid” changed him for the better, you knew Steve was beyond grateful for that. If it wasn’t for Dustin– and Nancy breaking his heart– he could have just been another cog in the corporate machine with wandering eyes. Now he was a man of heart, who valued family no matter what, even if it wasn’t by blood.

“Hey, Eds?” you asked, eyes still locked onto the back of Steve’s too-tight blue and white rugby shirt. “Think you could give me a hand with something this week?”

The dazzling smile you received in response was more than enough confirmation. “For you, kid? Always.”

⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫

“Eddie, no.”

“But it’s real music!” your best friend argued as he waved the cassette tape in the air rather aggressively. “If you’re going to do this, you may as well culture him with the good stuff while you’re at it.”

“I want him to like it.” You shook your head and plucked the tape from his grasp, setting it back down in its place in the box. “If he blows his eardrums out in the process, I think he’d have a hard time being able to enjoy the rest of it.”

The metalhead clutched at his chest dramatically, followed up with a slow flop against his beaten mattress. “You wound me,” he mumbled into the pillows. A second later, he popped back up and leaned over the edge of the mattress. He seemed intent on finding something and soon sat back up with another smaller box clutched in his hands. “Try some of these.”

Intrigued, you frowned and reached for the box. As you lifted the top off, you noticed two tightly packed rows of tapes. You used your fingers to pry one loose and lifted it into the light. A snort escaped you as you read the label. “Blondie?” you asked, tone clearly that of amusement.

Eddie rolled his eyes and began his own search through the original box of tapes.

Another laugh sounded from you as you continued to dig through the selection in your lap. “Okay, okay. You have to explain why you, Edward James Munson, have not one, but two ABBA tapes in your possession.”

“Blame it on Buckley,” he mumbled back in a bitter response. “She showed up one day to show me what she thought was good music. Why people enjoy this shit nowadays is just depressing.”

“Then why do you still have this shit?”

The only answer you received was a bored shrug. “I let you come in here and use my stereo system and go through my music collection to let you make your present for your dream boy-”

“Steve is not my dream boy-”

“Ah bah bah,” Eddie cut you off. “Don’t interrupt the generous man, kid. I give you access to my castle to work on your project for free. It doesn’t mean you get the chance to interrogate me about my collection like some kind of FBI agent.” He flicked two fingers in your general direction. “Make your picks.”

Your eyes drifted back to the box in your lap, a small smile tugging at your lips as you searched. The idea of a mixtape seemed like a good idea at first, but now that you were faced with the difficult decision of what to include on said mixtape, your confidence faltered just a bit. You took a deep breath, eyes closing to help you better concentrate. What was it that you wanted this to say to Steve?

If you had the opportunity to say anything to the boy you had already bared most of your soul to, what would you say? Your heart rate increased as you thought about the look on his face in your bedroom window, sneaking in to comfort you when you had a nightmare: soft hazel eyes and an even softer smile on lips that would press into your hairline absentmindedly. You would cling onto the boy for dear life, terrified to lose your connection to reality.

Without even trying, Steve had become your rock– the anchor tethered you from straying too far with your deepest fears. You couldn’t do this without him and, deep down, you hoped he felt the same way about you. Suddenly, everything started to click into place and you knew what you wanted to say.

You just hoped that you’d be able to find exactly what you were looking for.

⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫

“You made it!” Robin exclaimed with a cheery smile. She was quick to envelope you into a tight hug. You had to hide the wince that threatened to be revealed when the hard plastic ornaments sewn into her christmas sweater dug into the fabric of your own top. “Are you ready for a good time?”

“That better not mean beer, Buckley,” you chided.

“‘Course not!” your friend beamed. You couldn’t tell if this was just her natural enthusiasm, or if she had already had a couple drinks too many. “We got something much more festive! Jonathan and Argyle made the eggnog!”

You blinked. With the two California boys in charge of the beverages, this would certainly be an interesting evening. “Jonathan and Argyle…made the eggnog?”

“Yep! It’s actually really good.” Robin held out her mug. “Try it! It’ll warm you up really fast!”

“I’m sure.” As you leant forward to take a small sniff, you were instantly greeted by the stench of way too much bourbon. You were taken aback by the dark-nailed hand of a certain metalhead reaching past you for the cup.

“Well, if you won’t, I will,” he said, knocking back the remaining liquid down into his throat. “Damn, that’s good.”

“RIGHT?!”

“...okay, Robs,” you said as you reached for her arm. “Let’s get you back inside. Maybe find Nance.”

“She’s with Steve,” the short-haired girl slurred. “Talkin’ ‘bout something.” Robin gave a vague gesture toward the living room area, where Steve was currently resting against the doorframe talking to Nancy Wheeler. The two of them were laughing, although you noticed Nancy giving a few concerned looks in Robin's direction.

You couldn’t lie, there was a slight twinge of jealousy in your heart as you witnessed the two of them talking again. Logically, you knew they wouldn’t be getting back together. Nancy had moved on years ago–twice actually– and was finally in a stable relationship with herself. Determined to make a name for herself at Emerson, she took on her independence with pride and was loving her experience. She talked so much about the journalism program that Robin decided to apply and would be joining her the following school year as a communications major.

You and Steve had a bet that it would only be a matter of time before they would eventually end up together. It was almost an arguable match made in heaven. Robin’s nerves combined with Nancy’s determination…there wouldn’t be anything the two couldn’t do. You just hoped that one day they would see it too.

As the two of you approached them in the living room, you caught Steve giving you the brightest grin. He held out one of the mugs he had been carrying over to you. When you tried to send him a subtle decline, he merely shook his head. “Not spiked,” he called out over the loud Christmas music blasting through the room. “Brought my own stash since I know you don’t like alcohol.”

You gave him a soft smile as you accepted his offering, lifting the drink to your lips. It was smooth and creamy, with those spicy hints of cinnamon and nutmeg. It reminded you of Christmas from the very first sip. The fact that Steve had remembered about your alcohol aversion made you warmer from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

“Awww, aren’t they cute?!” you heard Robin whisper dramatically to Nancy. “I can’t wait until they see-”

“Isn’t it time for the secret Santa?” Nancy interrupted the jittery dirty blonde.

Completely distracted from her previous statement, Robin nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, that’s right!” she exclaimed. “Can’t forget that! C’mon dinguses.”

As the gift exchange began, you couldn’t help but feel nervous as Steve lifted his gift out of the pile. You had tried to wrap it as neatly as you could, using paper you knew he hadn’t seen at your house before. The whole point of the game was for it to be a secret until the last possible second. How could you possibly eliminate that fun?

When it was your turn to go up, you picked up the package with your name typed– not written– on the card. Someone else seemed very adamant about keeping their identity a secret, too. As you moved back to your seat on the couch, your fingers anxiously fiddled with the neatly tied bow atop the small box. It was beautifully wrapped with blue and white paper, some of your favorite colors. Whoever this person was, they definitely knew you pretty well.

When Robin gave the go ahead, everyone took turns freeing the presents from their papery prisons. You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped you. Tucked inside the box was a cassette with your name on it. As you flipped it over to read the description, a smile graced your lips. It was a collection of some of your favorite songs. There were small marks next to certain songs, which you didn’t understand. Maybe it was your Secret Santa’s favorite, too.

Looking around the room, you tried to guess who could have gotten you the gift. You knew it wasn’t Eddie, as he had given Dustin one of his original dungeon master journals. It could have been Robin, but she was more enthused with Jonathan’s present of new patches for her denim jacket. You risked a glance over at Steve to gauge his reaction to his gift and your heart stopped in surprise.

He was staring directly at you.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you and tilted his head toward the front door. Can we talk? his eyes asked in a silent question.

You nodded and immediately went into the hall to grab your coats, shoving the new tape into the garment’s pocket. As you walked outside onto the front porch, Steve didn’t waste any time with what he wanted to say.

“It was you,” he questioned. “Wasn’t it? You’re my secret Santa.”

You nodded bashfully. “Look, I get that it’s nothing special, but I thought it could be something different.”

“I love it.” Steve took a few steps closer. “I just…I find it funny that even after all this time, we’re still on the same wavelength.” He pointed to your pocket. “Cyndi Lauper, David Bowie, Joan Jett…”

When you looked at him confused, he gave a small smile. “Those are all your favorites. You listen to them all the time when you’re stressed or you can’t sleep.”

“You’re my secret Santa…” it dawned on you slowly.

Steve blinked. “You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t expect you to know something like that,” you admitted. With some hesitation, you reached into your coat pocket and held out the tape. “What are-”

“The marks?” he asked. “Oh, yeah, I uh, I was wondering if you were going to ask me about that.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “You uh, sometimes when you’re at work, you hum to yourself. They’re mostly the songs on the tape but, you know. Those in particular…well, I like to hear you sing them.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, eyes searching Steve’s. It was almost as though you were looking at him– truly looking at him– for the first time in your lives. There was something hidden behind his gaze. There was a sparkle in them, almost as if he was laughing about an inside joke only he knew. It was mixed with a flicker of something you hadn’t seen before. Nerves? Sadness? Adoration?

Steve cleared his throat to break the silence. “And, uh, I wouldn’t mind being able to hear you sing them more.”

“So you made me a tape…to hear me sing karaoke?”

“Not…not exactly,” he stammered. “God, am I really not that obvious?”

Confusion struck you again and you tilted your head in silent question. What was he talking about? Now Steve seemed nervous– something you had never seen him be before in the years you had known him. Steve Harrington had confidence, he was cocky; he didn’t get nervous, especially not around you. “Steve, what are you-”

“I love you,” the three words blurted out of his mouth in such a hurry, you had to blink a few times to process the exclamation. “I love you and I’ve been in love with you for a while now. There isn’t anyone else that knows me like you do, who listens– and I mean truly listens– like you do. You don’t judge me, you don’t make me feel like the idiot I totally am.”

He paused for a moment to take both of your hands in his. “When I’m with you, I don’t have to act anymore. I can be myself around you and know that that’s the person I want to be for the rest of my life. You are the person I want to be around for as long as you’ll have me. I love you.”

With the way he was holding you, your body felt warmer than it would with any festive beverage. You weren’t imagining this, were you? Did Steve, the boy you watched from a distance for so long, just say he loved you? “You’re not- this isn’t-” you stammered. “Is this a dream?”

“No, sweetheart,” Steve whispered softly as he took a step closer to you. “It’s real.”

He cradled one of his hands under your chin, tilting his own face to be near your own. The look he gave you asked if this was okay, and somehow you managed the slightest of nods in response. When he slanted his lips over yours, you immediately began to melt into his embrace. You hadn’t dreamed of this moment before, but it still felt like a fairy tale. It was soft and gentle, everything you could have wanted.

When you finally broke apart, a smile graced upon your lips. “In case it wasn’t completely obvious,” you said. “I love you, too.”

Steve grinned and pulled you in for another kiss. This one was a bit more heated, but it was just enough. To the two of you, nothing else mattered in that exact moment. All that mattered was that you and him were finally happy and you were happy together.

“Well it’s about time!!” Robin’s voice called out, forcing the two of you to jump apart from each other. You had been so engrossed in the moment, the two of you hadn’t heard the front door open behind you. “Thought you’d never get together. Now can you guys hurry up and come back inside? It’s almost time to eat.” With a huff and a smile, she closed the door with a solid thud, causing the two of you to start laughing.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” you whispered.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he replied as he pulled you against him once more so you could walk hand-in-hand back to your family.

================

Author's Note: Merry Christmas Eve to my readers who celebrate the holiday. Can you believe we're almost to the end of Stevemas already?! It's been a crazy two weeks and I really hope you all have enjoyed the (basically) daily uploads. This was a really fun fic to write and I have to give a shoutout to @familyvideostevie for the inspiration after seeing the secret Santa prompt on their 12 days of christmas list. Make sure to check out their works because they're amazing!! I also wanted to do something a little different this time around to make my fics more interactive, so I hope you enjoyed listening to the actual mixtape you made for Steve while you read this story! :)

If you enjoyed this fic and want to see more like it on my blog, make sure to leave a comment, tag a friend, or reblog this post. Likes are appreciated, but it's these other types of interactions that help to spread the word about my works. Not only that, but it helps me feel motivated to keep writing and posting content. If you're interested in getting updates on the final day of Stevemas or any of my other works, maybe consider giving my blog a cheeky follow. I promise I won't spam you too much with other amazing creators' works! :)

Until next time, my little sparks <3

Taglist: @bakerstreethound, @theelmgrove, @maddipoof

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jaegerisim · 10 months

Text

PT. 2 of my HP x BYLER AU

The summer holidays passed by in a blur and between homework and hanging out with Will, Mike had been pretty busy.

Now, in "Platform 9 and 3/4" Mike buzzed with excitement to hug Will. Although they'd seen each other barely 48 hours ago, Mike couldn't help but feel like they'd been 48 days or years. So he moved around with his trolley until he spotted a familiar brown head sticking up in the multitude.

Mike pushed his trolley forward and grinned at Will, who still hadn't seen him as he was focused on something or someone else. That person was Max, who was babbling excitedly about all the new curses and charms Robin was going to teach her this year, while Will nodded along. Meanwhile, Will's mother fussed over how Will's hand-me-down shoes were already displaying holes and his tie was all crooked. Jonathan had his arms wrapped around Steve Harrington whose cheeks were a pretty red color.

Will turned to look at his brother, who stuck his tongue at him. Max grabbed Will's hand trying to draw his attention towards whatever it was she was saying. Will slapped her hand away playfully and she said something in mock offense.

Mrs. Byers was watching the whole interaction with an amused face. Finally, Mike reached his limit and marched over.

"Will!" Mike called "I missed you!"

"So, did I," Will laughed as Mike pulled him away from Max "but we saw each other 2 days ago! It's been weeks since I've seen Max!"

Mike frowned, they'd seen each other during the summer, without The Party? Worse of all, Will hadn't told Mike about this. It was outrageous, they'd promised to tell each other everything! This was all Max's fault.

Not only that, but the red-haired girl he got on Mike's nerves because she seemed to go wherever Will went, meaning he would no longer have Will to himself.

Once in the train, they bumped into El, Lucas and Dustin. Who invited Mike, Will and Max to sit with them. Much to Mike's dismay, Will sat next to the window and Max took the seat next to him.

So Mike sat between El and the door. El was acting weirder than she had last year, she was constantly red in the face and stuttered a lot. Mike almost thought she has a fever, but apparently that wasn't it. Anyways, seeing Max and Will share inside jokes and swap food provokes something really ugly inside of Mike, something burning and painful.

Since Mike was too focused on his own jealousy, he failed to notice Will's own frustration and longing stares while Mike seemingly "flirted" with El.

As the days passed Mike felt he and Will were growing distant from each other. Will hung out with Max and Robin more often while Mike felt like El was the only one who truly understood him.

"Mike!" cried Will, one cloudy, spring day, as he rushed into the courtyard where Mike sat "I tried out for the Quidditch team and they accepted me! I'm a Beater! Training starts tomorrow!"

Mike wanted to be happy for him, he truly did. Yet, he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to genuinely be happy for his best friend. He couldn't fathom his sweet and caring Will playing such a dangerous sport.

"Will, be honest, do you even like Quidditch?" Mike asked, with a skeptical frown.

"Y- Yeah! I do. It's a great sport and Professor Creel says I'll be a great Beater!" Will sounded defensive.

"Professor Creel? You trust him? Will, he's not to be trusted!" insisted Mike

"I'm sorry?" snapped Will "He is not to be trusted? Why? 'Cause he's a Slytherin, right?"

Mike bit his lip, he hadn't meant to say that.

"Well, guess what? I'm Slytherin too! Does that mean you can't trust me either, huh?"

It began to rain and at one point Mike didn't know if the droplet he felt against his cheeks were tears or the rain itself.

"That's not what I meant!" Mike sobbed

"You sure, Mike? Professor Creel is a magnificent teacher. Just because you're Gryffindor and don't like him doesn't mean he is bad. Not every Slytherin is bad, y'know? Although you Wheelers seem to unjustly despise all of us!"

"That's just not true!" Mike scoffed, why was Will being such an asshole about this?

"I'm leaving! I'm gonna go find Max and Robin 'cause at least they'll be happy for me" spat Will.

"Will, you can't leave!" Mike tried desperately "It's raining" but it was hopeless, Will had already left him.

For the next few weeks, things were awkward between Will and Mike, their conversations had become stilted and forced until they stopped completely. The catalyst for this was Mike hearing rumors of Will and Max dating. Rumors he thought made sense, they were always together, they held hands sometimes and they were super protective of each other. Another reason why Mike felt betrayed by Will. Will hadn't told Mike he liked Max, how were they supposed to be best friends if they kept secrets from each other!

By the last days of school, Hogwarts buzzed with excitement.

The Quidditch match finals were just around the corner. The 2 Houses competing were Hufflepuff and Slytherin, which meant the 2 Byers Brothers were up against each other.

Both were quite the players as Will was pretty bold and didn't think twice of hitting the Bludger with his bat while Jonathan did fantastic saves as a Keeper.

Begrudgingly, Max invited The Party to come see Will but by the first part of the match, El had become bored of the game and told Mike to accompany her back to the school grounds.

Mike accepted since he thought Will wouldn't even care if he wasn't there, curiously, Max shot him a furious glare when he got up to leave.

Both him and El talked for hours, walking around aimlessly. El told him that her Dad had began to date Will's mom and that Will and her are going to be together a lot this summer.

Then, when the sun was almost down, they sat in the courtyard and El grabbed the side of his face, her cheeks were a rosy color and her mouth was in a shy smile.

Mike felt paralyzed, he knew what was going to happen. El was going to kiss him! Yet, he didn't feel that fluttery sensation his sister told him she felt when she kissed her best friend Barb and her ex-boyfriend Steve. His hands weren't all sweaty or clammy like Lucas described he feels when his near his crush. Nor was he a rambling, stuttery mess like Dustin! What did that mean? Why wasn't he feeling the things he should?

"Do you want to do this, Mike?" whispered El, softly

"Um, uh, Ye- Yeah. I do." He can't believe it took him so much willpower to want to kiss El. No, to want to kiss a girl.

El began to kiss him and he kissed her back. Still, nothing magical happened, it was the most boring thing ever. He was just kind of there.

He heard a noise from behind him and he turned around to find Will and Max staring at them, shocked. Max balled her fists and angrily stormed away muttering curses. Will on the other hand, stood there, mouth parted, tears welling up.

Mike knew he fucked up. He'd abandoned Will's important game to kiss a girl. He shouldn't have done that, he knows that.

Will turned around and left, wiping his face with his emerald Quidditch robe.

Mike didn't run after him, Mike turned to face El. She looked slightly sad but mostly confused, she didn't understand what happened.

The last day of school, Mike went over to the Slytherin table at The Great Hall.

"Hey, Will." he began

He felt Max glare daggers at him and Robin give him the stink-eye, several other Slytherins snickered. Billy, had a sneer plastered on his annoying and punchable face.

"Hi?" answered the smaller boy with confusion l

"I wanted to apologize for our argument, ok?" Mike apologized using his softest voice

"It's ok, Mike, really" Will dismissed with a small wave.

"No, it isn't I-" Mike insisted because it wasn't ok it was wrong.

"I said drop it, Mike" the brunet snapped. He did that a lot lately and when he did, he looked eerily similar to his father. It made Mike shudder. Mike shrugged helplessly and left to meet El and Lucas.

Lucas was blushing and El frowned at whatever Lucas was saying.

"So then me and Max kissed under the bleachers, yesterday and it was awesome!" Lucas gushed

Wait, Max and Lucas? Weren't she and Will dating? But if they kissed that meant that the duo were just friends and Mike had misunderstood everything. He'd fucked up again and Will was obviously not fine. Maybe the summer and spending time with El would help.

Mike ended his second year at Hogwarts wondering where exactly he'd gone wrong.

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thewritersofdeceased · 4 months

Text

FESTIVE JOY : GREASER BOYS x READER

PROMPT: CHRISTMAS WITH THE BOYS : PRONOUNS: THEY / THEM

Christmas! One of the best or worst holidays of the years. It was only a couple days beforehand, which was lovely to some. Y/n was one of them. Standing in the Curtis household with the second oldest brother, Sodapop, the two were decorating the house to look like a winter wonderland. "Soda! Can you help me with the star?"

Soda absolutely loved the Christmas season. The smell of hot coco that couldpass through the home, all the Christmas music that played repeatedly on the radio. To the middle Curtis brother, it was the best. Now, his brother, Darry, wasn't very fond of the season. Nor the holiday. This would be their first year without their parents. That was the hardest part of Christmas time.

As Soda had begun to space out ever so slightly at the thoughts that nipped at his mind, Y/N let out a frustrated sigh. They looked over at Soda, their brows furrowing before they got off their tippy toes and walk over to the taller male. Soda had a blank look in his eyes, signifying he truly was spacing out. Y/N had learned this a couple weeks ago, though they hadn't mentioned it for a bit.

"Soda?" They spoke, waving their hand slightly in front of the boys face. It was silent before Soda snapped out his spaced out state. "Huh? Sorry, sorry. I'm spacing out slightly." The middle child apologized, running a hand through his hair and letting a sigh out. He took the star out of Y/N's hand, going to stand on the chair and place the star upon the tree.

During everything that happened beyond the star placing, the house had grown quiet with the soft music of Christmas songs from the radio. The house itself looked gorgeous. The front lawn was even decorated! You can thank Soda for that. To some who walked by the Curtis house, it could be a surprise. Soda was laid flat on his stomach, his eyes focused on the Christmas movie that played from the TV. Though voices snapped him out of it.

"You saw how they ran!? Talk about all bark, no bite!" The voice was cominh from one of the louder members of the grease family, Two-Bit. Or Kieth, but everyone called him his nickname. "Yeah, yeah! We saw, Two." Another voice spoke, but this one sounded rather tired, but Soda could recognize it from anywhere. It was his closest buddy in the group, Steve. He couldn't be annoyed about it. The two voices stopped when finally realizing what was outside. A laugh seemed to have escaped Two, making Soda proud and feeling accomplished. Y/N looked over with a smile forming on their face. "Seems someone likes your decorations, Soda."

Soda smiled wide at this, proud that at least someone liked the decorations he put out there! "C'mon, c'mon! The inside has to look awesome too!" Two's excited voice rang out, before he pushed open the door and looked around the house. Truly, it looked like a winter wonderland. Steve watched the other boys excitement, which only made the later laugh. "It looks awesome! Y/N, Soda! Was this all you!?" Steve asked, earning a nod in response from the two who seemed to be relaxing.

"Yeah, it was. Once the others get here, we can make hot chocolate, watch some Christmas movies, shit like that." Y/N explained, smiling warmly to the two boys. Steve went to the kitchen already, going to eat the chocolate cake that Darry had made hours prior and left in the fridge for him. "Are we doing Christmas dinner together too!?" Steve asked from the kitchen, searching for whatever he could find.

As hours passed and the four sat, here came the rest. Ponyboy, Darry, Dallas and Johnny. Now the group was together, like a family. It was nice. Johnny finally being able to celebrate the holidays with people who cared, Dally not being in the freezer, Soda finally getting a break from work with Steve, everything felt like it should be.

At the end of the night, with half of them being forced, each had a little headband on. Pony and Johnny had elf hats, Dallas had a Krampus styled headband, Darry had Santa, and the rest had reindeers. Though who stood behind the camera was Y/N. Until Johnny had pulled them into the photo. "Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" Two announced, before the camera clicked.

#the outsiders x reader #sodapop x reader #the outsiders #dally winston x reader #darry curtis x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #steve randal x reader #twobit matthews x reader #johnny cade x reader #the outsiders imagine

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call-me-eds · 1 year

Text

Friendsgiving

A/N: A treat for the rest of the girlies who are wildly hungover and need to eat a meal with their families today.

Masterlist

Steve x Reader 18+

You and Steve try to get through a dinner after crossing a line.

There was chaos all around. Screaming children, flying food, and you’re pretty sure you saw a few tears being shed. Friendsgiving was not for the faint of heart.

The jury was out on whether or not you could actually call it Friendsgiving, because it was the weekend after the holiday with barely any cooking involved; just a collection of leftovers from the family celebrations that occurred. Throughout Hawkins stores had hung jingle bells on their doors and the Christmas tree in the middle of town had turned on its lights, but you had stuffing on your plate and were watching Nancy carve half of a turkey.

The holiday that you were able to celebrate in a timely manner was the infamous Blackout Thursday. It was also the reason you couldn’t meet Steve’s eyes and only risked a glance when the rest of your face was hidden by your wine glass.

____________________________________________________________

“I don’t want to see everyone from high school,” Robin complained as you took a sweater from her closet.

“Neither do I, but Eddie is playing, it’ll be fun,” you said.

“Right, so you, Steve, and Nancy will be reliving the glory days while Jonathan and I are hiding in the corner trying to avoid everyone in the room,” she sighed.

She wasn’t entirely wrong. You three certainly had more acquaintances than her, Jonathan, and Eddie, but that didn’t mean you were going to leave them to fend for themselves for the night. You did have a feeling that once Eddie got off stage, though, he’d have his hands full with people who suddenly interested in making friends. Jonathan had Nancy as a buffer, and Robin had you and Steve. What none of you counted on, though, was her abandoning you.

“Where the hell did she get those people skills from?” Steve asked. You were both leaning against the wall, watching Robin chat with someone that you were pretty sure she had never spoken to before tonight. You snorted which sent him into a fit of laughter of his own. Drinks were happy-hour priced for the whole evening, and each of your friends had taken turns buying a round of drinks, and then Eddie came off stage for a break and you got another round for free.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you yelled entirely too loudly for how close you were to Steve.

“Want me to come with you?” he asked. You shook your head and patted his chest a little roughly before walking off, having to take hold of the wall halfway on your journey. There was a gaggle of girls you had eaten lunch with a few times when you were in high school. You had enough alcohol in you to skip formalities and get right into gossip.

“You’re friends with Eddie Munson, is he seeing anyone? He looks good tonight,” Cindy asked you. She was always nice enough, but you knew she had never given Eddie the time of day.

“Not that I know of,” you shrugged. “I thought you and Adam were back on, though?”

“Oh, so over,” she shook her head. “And how are you and Steve?” You cocked your head to the side, not quite understanding what she meant. “You’re together, right?”

“Oh God, no,” you shook your head, sending her into apologies and the other girls into whispers.

____________________________________________________________

Sure, there were plenty of times that you and Steve got a little cuddly or you thought you caught him staring at you, but you never crossed the line that would change every aspect of your friendship.

At Steve’s dinner table, you were snapped back to attention when an alarm from the kitchen went off.

“I forgot about the biscuits,” you gasped, hopping up and rushing through the swinging door where the noise was coming from. The counter was still a warzone, and it took you entirely too long to find a dish towel in lieu of an oven mitt. By the time you were able to get the tray out of the oven, it was still beeping.

“Everything okay in here, or should I call the fire department?” Steve came through and you instantly stiffened up, trying not to drop the tray.

“All good,” you said, hoping he’d take you at your word and leave you alone in the kitchen. No such luck. He padded towards you to click on the vent over the oven, hoping to avoid the smoke detector from going off next. He brushed up against your side and you shuddered, causing you to miss the basket that you were filling, and sending a biscuit to the floor.

“Here, let me help,” Steve said, going for the biscuit currently in your hand, as if you couldn’t do it yourself.

“It’s okay, Steve,” you moved the batch away from him and turned so he was looking at your back.

“Are you serious?” he sighed. “I thought we were better friends that we wouldn’t let something like this ruin everything.” You heard the frustration coming through his words, but it was nothing in comparison to yours.

“Steve, you don’t understand,” you shook your head.

“Oh, sure I do. We hook up, a few days go by, you regret it all, and then you can’t even look at me because you don’t want to tell me we can’t be friends anymore in front of the kids,” he rambled. You spun around and almost slammed the tray down on the counter. The other room went silent for a moment before the chatter slowly started to flow through the wall again. You and Steve stood staring at each other, hands on hips.

“Oh, you really don’t understand.”

____________________________________________________________

You were eager to get back out into the bar and get another drink. And you really should be checking on Robin, knowing that she could have ended her conversation and be wandering out there by herself if she couldn’t locate anyone.

“I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?” you smiled, not bothering to dry your hands before walking out.

The bar was full of faces you had only seen in passing over the past few years, and never this many at once. It wasn’t so long ago that you had been just as stuffed with them in the hallway, so your friends faces didn’t jump out at you like they would when you were surrounded by strangers. Well, figuratively jump out. Because they were known to suddenly appear with a scare.

While you looked around for them, you found yourself back up at the bar, getting another drink sweet enough to hide the alcohol, but simple enough that the overwhelmed bartender couldn’t mess it up.

“Tequila pineapple!” you shouted over the other patrons yelling out orders.

“And a Corona!” You must have leapt at least a foot in the air when a hand clapped onto your shoulder.

“Jesus, I didn’t think it would be possible to sneak up on anyone in a place as crowded as this,” you said, heart rate calming once you saw Jonathan.

“I’m very talented,” he grinned, taking the drinks while you handed over cash. You followed him over to the small area where your lot had congregated.

“No drink for me?” Steve asked, noticing the fresh glass in your hand.

“You all abandoned me, I didn’t know if I would ever see you again,” you said, waving your hands and causing the drink to dribble down your skin. So when Steve took it from you, you assumed it was to allow you to clean yourself up, not gulp half of it down.

“Hey!”

“Oh, you’ve had enough anyway,” he shrugged. You took the drink back and finished it off, if anything to prove a point.

“I have definitely had enough,” Nancy said, holding on to Robin’s elbow to steady herself. “Can we go home?” she asked no one in particular. Immediately, Jonathan handed his beer off to Steve and reached a hand out to her. Robin transferred her over but the empty spot next to her was promptly filled by Eddie.

“Leaving already? I just got here,” he frowned. He was still shiny with sweat after being on stage, and his energy was far higher than all of yours after a night of drinking.

“Eddie! Great job,” you smiled, throwing an arm around him. “Cindy Baker totally wants to hook up with you, she asked me if you were single,” you slurred.

“Right, get home safe,” he nodded to Nancy and Jonathan, taking the half-empty beer from Steve and wandering off again. Steve went with Jonathan and Nancy, helping his friend maneuver his very drunk girlfriend through the crowd.

“I have to go to the bathroom again,” you announced.

“You broke the seal? Rookie move,” Robin shook her head. “Want me to come?” Again, your friends not trusting you enough struck a nerve.

“No, I can do it,” you shook your head and went off to the bathroom alone for the second time that night. Despite not running into anyone this time, your trip was much longer. Somehow your jeans zipper got more complicated in the last few hours.

The door swung open, and the last thing you expected to see was Steve walking through with his hands covering his eyes.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, unable to control the giggles bubbling up. He reached an arm out and was swinging it back and forth. “I’m the only one in here.” Only then did he open his eyes, a smile joining immediately once he saw you.

“Robin got a lift home from Eddie after he struck out with Cindy. I didn’t want to leave you all alone, and you’ve been in here a while,” he shrugged.

“My hero,” you fawned. He held up a hand, craning his neck to try and focus on the song that came on in the bar. “Steve, no,” you frowned.

“Yes,” he nodded, all shyness previously in his body far gone from when he first entered the bathroom. “It’s our song.”

With the end of the night nearing the bar turned to only hits from the past few years, ‘Call Me’ by Blondie rang out. Steve wouldn’t let you forget how much you made him listen to the song and the choreography you made him perfect. Not even now, when you were both drunk in a bathroom in a dive bar. He grabbed your hand and forced you to spin. The dance was almost muscle memory at this point, the two of you performing it at every barbecue and party you attended in the last six years.

It wasn’t romantic, twirling around next to a couple of toilets, but there hadn’t been a moment in your friendship where a look from Steve didn’t make you feel special.

“Stop, stop,” you begged, trying to push him away. He let you rest, but kept his arms wrapped around your waist.

“You don’t want to dance with me?” he asked, feigning hurt. You shook your head and reached up to brush his hair off of his forehead. “What?” he asked, not breaking your stare. His fingers were dancing across your hip, unable to stay still.

“I’m really drunk,” you whispered. He nodded and licked his lips, waiting for you to go on.

You used the booties on your feet to your advantage, originally put on to stay warm, to meet Steve’s lips with your own. There had been endless rumors you had to confront your entire life. Was Steve really as good of a kisser as everyone says? Did you two really lose your virginities to each other in the 9th grade? Was he really as big as everyone said?

You had never been able to answer them. Well, except for that middle one. That was always met with a resounding ‘No. Are you crazy?’ You had to find out for yourself.

“Sorry, we can forget about this,” you said, pulling away. “I should have asked.” His eyes were blank for a moment, just a torturous moment, before he brought his lips to yours again with a groan. There was such a force behind the kiss that, mixed with the drinks you had, you stumbled backwards until you were pressed against the wall. If you were any more sober, you’d have been disgusted, wondering about what kind of germs you were encountering. But right now all you were thinking about was Steve.

Your best friend who had his tongue in your mouth and his leg slotted between yours. His slender fingers scratching against your scalp, pulling your hair to tilt your head back. His lips finding their way to your jaw, behind your ear as if he already knew that was a sensitive spot for you, and down your neck. His pants growing tighter and tighter with each passing minute.

“Steve, please,” you groaned, pushing your hips towards his to try and get contact against him below the waist.

“Hmm?” he asked, not letting up on his determination to force you to cover up a hickey the following day. You grabbed his wrist, forcing his hand away from where it was groping your bra over your shirt, to guide his fingers to the button on your pants. He didn’t take long to catch on, and undid what just took you ten minutes to do up. You expected his skin to be cold, to give you goosebumps from temperature and first touch, but they were practically burning. The pads of his finger pads slid underneath the band of your underwear, hardly a pair you would have worn if you knew you’d end up in this position.

He was teasing you, either that or he lost his coordination with his last drink, and was touching everywhere except where you wanted him to. For not the first time in your relationship, you took charge, and met his hand. He laughed blissfully when you slipped his finger inside of you up to his second knuckle. Now with the permission he didn’t need, you began to get a first account of why he hadn’t gone more than a month without a date since you both hit puberty.

“Oh, God,” you whined, pulling away from him and resting your head against his shoulder. You needed to distract yourself, to make him feel just as good. Another answer to a question you had been dodging your entire adolescence: Steve was big.

“Someone’s going to come in eventually,” he panted, but didn’t stop grinding into your hand. “Should I lock the door?” You weren’t ready to stop, and could almost hear the relief coming off of your skin when he tried to find a way to continue.

“Yes.”

____________________________________________________________

“Then explain it to me,” he said, bringing his voice low and challenging you to find any explanation.

“I can’t look at you without wanting to jump on you,” you admitted, anger in your voice not quite matching the words coming out of your mouth. He took two long strides to penetrate your personal bubble, grab your face, and kiss you.

Like you were in some sort of disgusting romantic comedy, your foot lifted off of the ground in a pop and you rested your hands against his chest. You allowed yourself to scratch his pecs and grip his shirt for a moment before pulling away.

“Steve,” you sighed. He nodded and peeled his hands away from you.

“I know,” he nodded, letting out a shaky breath.

“No, I just, I don’t want to be away from everyone for too long. They can’t know yet,” you said. There wasn’t shame behind anything that you and Steve did. But it was sacred for now, only for you.

“Know what?” he asked, once again forcing you to take charge and give a label, a stamp. And if he wanted you to be the one to do it, you wouldn’t let him get it without some grief.

“That when we’re done, everyone is going to try to help clean up. You’ll tell them that bringing food was enough, and the biggest favor would be driving the kids home. I’ll stay to help, and we’ll get about halfway through before we go upstairs.” You were whispering now, slipping your hand between the two of you and into his front jeans pocket. Steve had a smile that he reserved for girls he bought dinner for.

“You think I’d let you lift a plate before taking you to my room?” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh, you want to call the shots now?” you asked, painfully stopping yourself from teasing him about how he was begging you to touch him and pleading with you to let him finish the other night.

He nodded and slithered his own hand into your back pocket.

“If you’ll let me,” he raised his eyebrows, leaning in to press his lips to yours gently.

“Do I need to get the fire extinguisher?” You ripped away from Steve and covered your mouth with your hand, heart racing from the closeness of Steve and the giddy face of Eddie.

“Thanks for your help,” you grabbed the basket of rolls and went back into the dining room, leaving Steve to deal with Eddie. By the time they returned to the table, your coloring had come back from its red tinge.

For the rest of the meal, it was lingering glances and stolen touches when passing dishes. The secret between you, and now Eddie, was the only thing on your mind, and the painfully slow night was drawn on by the insistence of board games.

“Down, girl, I can feel the heat coming off of you,” Eddie leaned over to whisper in your ear. You pushed him away and Steve cocked his head slightly, asking if you were alright.

“Get everyone out of here and I’ll buy you that new record you’ve been wanting,” you said to Eddie.

“And I don’t get to join in on any of the fun?” he asked, and you wondered if he would actually sit here and deny your plea for help. He stood up and clapped his hands, and the kids immediately started to complain.

“We barely just finished dessert, come on,” Lucas whined.

“Some things are sweeter than dessert, Buddy, let’s go,” he picked him up by the collar and insisted the others grab their coats if they didn’t want to walk home with full stomachs.

Just like you knew she would, Nancy offered herself and Jonathan to help clean up, but Steve told them to get on home.

After painfully long goodbyes, and a few more snide comments from Eddie, you were finally alone with Steve again.

“So, I guess we should start cleaning up?” you asked, smirk matching his. Despite his earlier claim, you stacked a few dishes in silence and carried them to the kitchen. When you turned to go back and continue clearing, Steve trapped you in a cage of his arms.

“I think we’ve done enough. Let’s take a break,” he smiled, letting his eyes flutter shut and his lips crash onto yours. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to this, kissing your best friend, but for now you were taking too much pleasure in it to let your thoughts sabotage it.

Steve put his hands underneath your thighs and lifted you up, placing you on the counter. He stepped between your legs and you let your mind go back to the bathroom on Wednesday night.

____________________________________________________________

“I never thought this would happen,” he grunted, bare hips to yours as you sat on the sink. Steve was holding you against him so you weren’t putting the entirety of your weights against the unstable porcelain.

“Thought about us in this position before, huh?” you asked, breathing heavily against him. Your index finger moved your panties further to the side, Steve didn’t bother to take them off, and you messily began to rub your clit.

“How could I not?” he groaned. You understood. It was everything about Steve that was bringing you closer and closer to the edge right now. His grumbling voice, the shine of sweat over his toned body, and the way he was looking at you.

“I’m close, Steve,” you warned, feeling him falter a bit in his movements. Trying to delay his own orgasm wasn’t going as well as he would have hoped, so you focused on his noises and the feel of his dragging in and out of you to get you there.

“Come on, Baby,” he begged. “Get me there. Cum all over me so I can ruin you, please,” he gasped, and in the end it was his words that did the trick. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you screamed, not bothering to control your volume for the sake of the other people in the bar. It was just you and Steve, nothing else.

Before you could fully relax he ripped away from you and ripped off the condom he managed to put on earlier. His hand, while bare, couldn’t compare to how you felt around him, but it was enough to send ropes of himself onto your stomach.

“My bra, Steve!” you gasped, wiping at the stray drop with your thumb. He was barely done, hands around you against the sink and breathing heavily.

“I’ll throw it in the wash,” he promised, still just the boy who knew you had another bra just like it in your drawer, but would do your laundry for you anyway.

____________________________________________________________

“Think I can have a softer surface this time?” you asked when he gave your lips a rest and moved his assault to your collarbones. “I still have the imprint of the faucet on my back like a tramp stamp.”

“Yeah, I can arrange that,” he nodded. “But you’ve got to be on top for a bit, I’m exhausted.”

“Keeping your boner hidden for one meal too much work for you?” you teased, squeezing the bulge in his pants with light pressure.

“Yes, and it’s all your fault.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #stanger things #st4 #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington x you

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