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pinkrelish · 2 years

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𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

bestfriend!eddie x fem!reader

✶Cold to the bone, delirious, and scared out of his mind, Eddie is guided by the group through the woods. "Where are we going?" he asks.

They spare him not a glance. "The Safe House."✶

NSFW — one bed trope, cuddling, hurt/comfort, eddie munson needs a hug, drug/alcohol mention/use, wingman steve + robin, 18+ overall for smut, canon typical gore

chapter: 10/15 [wc: 7.7k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 10: The Safe House

His skin was rubbed raw from the damp clothes he’d been wearing for hours on end. Shoes coated with dirt, socks soaked from lake water, and feet covered in blisters. Cold everywhere. No sleep for days; only sporadic glimpses when he felt safe in the sunshine under the blue tarp in the boathouse. At night, it was fear. Fear of being hunted. Shaking, and starving, knowing he wouldn’t have the energy to put up a fight. Just running. Running, stumbling, tripping, like he did now. But, unlike before, when he was abandoned, Nancy reached out her dainty fingers, and helped him with strength beyond measure.

Eddie was surrounded by friends, if they allowed themselves to be called that. Brave friends.

It hurt worse to walk, but he was encouraged to do so by Max, of all people. Vecna’s target, marked for death, and yet she bumped past his shoulder with her chin held high in the full moonlight breaking through the twisted branches of budding trees. She gave him a curious once-over, and nodded for him to follow, thinking he’d gone dizzy and lost his way. Dustin was courageous too, acting as the navigator at the front of the party. Guiding them to some unknown destination.

Steve grasped him around the bicep, and steadied him out of his stupor. He could tell Eddie was rattled after what he’d been through. Two gruesome deaths, traversing a literal hell. Still, it was Steve, with his neck torn to shreds and hobbling with gaping wounds, who comforted Eddie. “We’re almost there,” he said with such a strange glint of his teeth, as if he were grinning. But he wouldn’t be, right?

“Where’re we going?” Eddie asked, having been subjected to wandering through darkened woods for days. From the pitch-black Upside Down, to nighttime Hawkins.

“The Safe House.”

“The what?”

Dustin waved his compass up ahead, and whispered-shouted at the two men lagging behind. “If you two don’t get a move on, we won’t make it in time for dinner!”

“Twerp,” Steve muttered under his breath.

For once, Eddie focused on anything other than his abject misery. “Dinner?”

No one volunteered to answer him.

Too preoccupied from yanking his leg out of the dense bramble, Eddie also missed the shifty looks shared amongst the group, and the big blue sign outside the building they were approaching, and the orientation of the layout–particularly, the long stretch of rooms, and especially, the corner unit with an extra window facing the edge of the forest.

——Three Days, 7 Hours, 29 Minutes Prior——

Reefer Rick’s address flashed on screen. It wasn’t a perfect lead, but it was the best they had. Understandably, Steve nabbed Family Video’s master keys from under the desk, and ushered everyone towards the door, while Robin checked for customers in the aisles. Max was ready to get out of there too, until she realized another set of footsteps did not follow.

Dustin’s gaze remained glued to the phone sitting before him.

“Come on, dude. What’re you waiting for?” Steve spread his arms wide in annoyance at the gall of Dustin to be the one keeping them from finding his friend. His super cool older male role model friend who listens to loud music, dresses however he wants, and runs his little nerd game, or whatever the f–

“Finding Eddie is important, but..” Dustin’s curls bounced as he grabbed the phone and ran off with it to the manager’s office. “There’s someone else we should call! His girlfriend! She can help us.”

Steve choked back a laugh. “Girlfriend?” When the girls didn’t join in on the joke, he pursued Dustin with a vengeance. “Eddie “The Freak” Munson has a girlfriend?” He expected Robin to be just as bewildered, but she was in her own world, gathering the other phone to her chest and dialing 4-1-1.

Dustin nodded. “She goes to Penn State–”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “She’s in college?”

“I met her when she played DND with us,” he explained.

“She plays Dungeons and Dragons?” Steve’s voice couldn’t get higher.

“Yeah, she’s really cool!”

“And she’s cool?” he squeaked. It actually could go higher.

Ignoring him, Dustin turned his attention to Robin.

“Hi!” she said, full of cheer to the withered directory assistant. “What’s the area code for Penn State–Uh, Pennsylvania State University?” After a second, she spoke aloud for Dustin. “8-1-4? And the weather is mild, uh.. Okay. And oh, neat, we’re in the same time zone.”

Dustin punched the buttons on his phone for the local operator. 814-555-1212. “Hello, fine sir, I hope you are having a swell day.” Someone should tell him the fake ‘adult’ persona he assumed did little to convince anyone he was an actual grown up. “I’m in search of the contact information for.. Uh.. Someone in charge at the dorm for the women’s athletic teams at Penn State?” he finished quickly, sounding not unlike a balloon losing its air. “I’m looking to speak to an athlete for a.. report. Project. Thing. For school.”

The static funneling through the phone went silent.

After a stretch of heart palpitating seconds, the man spoke up, and gave Dustin the number for the Resident Adviser for the dorm.

Steve made an indignant scoff at them, and leaned towards Max. “Did you know Eddie Munson had a girlfriend?” She gave him a weird look, and shrugged. Righting himself, he asked Robin, “Is this really necessary? Eddie could be, well,” –He dragged his thumb over his throat– “by the time we wrap up this little game of Telephone and hit the road.”

She rolled her eyes at him and took the phone from Dustin to talk to the dweeby sounding Resident Adviser. “Hello, my name’s Robin Buckley. I'm a reporter for the Hawkins Post inquiring to speak to one of your athletes for a story about her coming from a small town and making it big.” Pressing the phone to her shoulder, she whispered to Dustin, “She is from Hawkins, right?” He gave a thumbs up. “Yes!” She spoke to the self-righteous, self-important voice on the line. He must’ve refused, because her face dropped. But so did her voice, as she abstained from making eye contact with anyone else in the room, twirling her finger around the phone cord. “If you patch me through, I’ll..”

In unanimous effort, the rest of them tuned her out, until she shoved the phone to Dustin’s ear.

He listened to it ring. And ring. And ring. And finally..

A gravelly, “Eddie?” answered.

Steve and Robin smashed their faces on either side of his, eavesdropping. Fully invested.

“Riddle Master Valendrei!”

“..Dustin?”

Way too enthused, he gasped, and clutched his chest. “You remember me! And what a coincidence you brought up Eddie! So, listen, he’s uh, in a little bit of a situation, you could say.”

There was rustling in the background. A lot of movement from what could’ve been bedsheets, followed by the metallic click of a purse being popped open. Point blank, tired, and weary, you inquired without a second thought, “How much is his bail?”

Steve snorted in approval. “She definitely knows him, all right.” Dustin smacked him from over his shoulder.

“It’s not that. Rest assured, nothing like that. It’s, ah.. Well. It’s worse. Can you come down here, like, soon? Extremely soon?”

Many responses started and died on your tongue. It was obvious you were pacing, probably wringing your neck with how it distorted your words, “Worse? H-How serious is it? I’m not on Spring Break yet, and I have midterms next week. Is there any way this can wait?”

Robin spoke up, “Probably not something you want to wait on, but we can do our best to keep him safe.”

“Safe?” you cried. “Goddammit.. Okay, uhm, give me a day or two and I can be there. I need to take care of a few things first, but–Jesus Christ, Dustin–tell me what’s going on before I have a panic attack. Where’s Eddie? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, so, last night..”

——Present Day——

Eddie was steered in the direction he should go. A hand pressed into the middle of his back, the owner’s warmth sinking through his jacket. He had the wherewithal to recognize he was delirious, but not the competence to divide his fleeting attention. Just when he’d grasped he was staring at a gray painted wall, he was shoved into a line. Someone was in front of him. Who? Too obscured by the shadows of the short building to tell. They were disappearing through a hole. A black square hole. Where to? Where.. Where to?

The owner of the hand on his back said something in his ear. Steve? Or maybe it was Lucas, and they pushed him forward. It was his turn to climb through. He complied. Not because he was brave, but because he was forced.

Nothing greeted his unadjusted eyes by sight, just the shuffling sounds of people moving out of his way. Using their hands to guide him into a packed place. Snug with bodies crowded around the entrance, whispers bouncing off the nearby walls.

“Is that everyone?” a kind, but stern someone asked.

“There’s a conga line of about twelve mosquitoes waiting to get in if you don’t close the window,” Steve said.

Eddie was lost in darkness. Until his Light found him.

A lamp clicked on by the turn of a knob. Eddie’s big, brown eyes grew. Familiarity, and a stark realization, greeted him. He was standing in the same room he’d been in half a year ago. The queen sized bed, two nightstands, an array of sitting chairs with one table near the front window next to the door, and a chest of drawers at the end of the bed balancing a large mirror.

The rest of the audience meandered to give space for the two wayward halves to reconnect.

His gaze landed on you, and his bottom lip shrugged.

Eddie was more prone to showing his vulnerability than most other men, that much you knew–wearing his sensitive heart on his sleeve around those he trusted–but you didn’t anticipate his relief to be so visible, knocking the air from his lungs. Stuttering his breath with every dragging step. Long strides of aching desperation to close the vast distance between you once and for all.

To anyone else, it would have been underwhelming, but to you, your world becoming his dirty hands reaching for you was a life of eternal pleasure incarnate. You knew not to expect him to hug you, and maybe that was for the best, because the simple act of his fingers curling in, and you accepting his weight against your knuckles, had your knees wobbling.

His gaudy rings dug into your bones. Flakes of blood and dirt and ash and decay grimed on contact. You kept him steady by the extraordinary opportunity of being able to touch him. Skin on skin. You could cry as he shivered into your body heat. Leaning into the unique embrace until nothing else existed. No sound outside two overworking hearts.

He’d never been this close on purpose. Where the tense expanse of his shoulders dropped into a relaxed slouch, and his head dropped forward, foreheads a suggestion apart. Eyes drifting half-way closed as he let go of his inhibitions, and studied you up close with the tantamount enthusiasm you examined him in–like neither of you could grasp the concept of being within arms reach after drifting apart one missed call at a time.

But did you ever really drift apart?

The trembling fondness in your matching grins proposed otherwise.

Attentive to the mild abrasion on the corner of his jaw, you spoke with such hushed awe, even he strained to hear beyond the hard consonants. “You’re okay.”

He was worse at keeping his voice down, but he tried for the sake of the moment, without losing the absolute cloying affection in his whisper. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you.”

Your eyes greedily drank in the other’s appearance, and when satisfied, they met. Gazing across the months of solitude. Of pain, and loneliness, and longing. Watery, and sweet.

“I missed you.”

“M’ssed you, too,” you said.

And the moment came to a close with his snuffed out smile as reality sank into his features.

Fascinated, Robin said in quiet amazement, “That was the most sensual fist bump I’ve ever seen in my life.” And Steve added a breathless, “Yeah.”

Eddie pointed a strict finger at you and rounded on the people he considered closer than family under recent circumstances. “Why is she here?” The group straightened their spines against the teetering vitriol laced in his clipped words. A dangerous balance between restrained anger, and denial. Daring them to confront him.

He zeroed on one person in particular. “Dustin? Don’t tell me, man..”

Robin stepped in. “We thought you could use your girlfriend here for support, Eddie.”

“We’re not dating,” he interjected.

Lucas pulled a similar expression to those around him. “What do you mean you aren’t dating? You literally never shut up about her–”

You smacked Eddie’s hand out of your face and shoved your way past him. “I’m here to help you, you idiot.” Rounding the corner of the bed, you reeled at the sight of Steve, blood slipping down his throat, wearing Eddie’s vest and surely staining the inside with the pool of gore seeping from his abdomen. “Jesus.” He fixed his mouth in a slant and shrugged.

Eddie was quick to claim your attention by following you on your heels. “This isn’t a goddamn sleepover with your best friend like it's the good ol’ times. I don’t know what they told you, but I’m a wanted man. You can’t be here. Hey, are you listening to me?” He cornered you at the other nightstand, fuming at your back while you sorted through your purse without a care in the world. “I’m wanted for murder! If you get caught, you’re harboring a fugitive. That’s a prison sentence! Think of your future. Your degree. The Olym–Huh?”

You cut off his ranting by sweeping your arm across his chest, moving him to the side so you could speak to the group. “Here’s the key for the black car parked across the street. If anything goes wrong, there’s about four days worth of food and water in the trunk to feed.. Well, some of you. I’m not made of money.” You lifted the mattress and produced two sheets of dirty metal. “Fake plates are already on. I got the car from a rental outside of Indy who doesn’t ask too many questions. If anything happens to it, it’ll go on Sasha Pennermen’s record.” Answering the puzzled glances around the room, you slid the thin piece of plastic off the nightstand and held it up. “My fake ID.”

“Fake plates, fake ID. How do you get this stuff?” Steve asked, catching the jangling keys and pocketing them.

“I live in a college town,” you shrugged it off like a duh? and put your illegal items away. “Same ground rules as what we discussed earlier. One: no talking to cops. Two: if you need to call me, use a payphone on the corner, not the ones attached to a store. They’re startin’ to put those freakin’ cameras everywhere. Can’t have any fun these days.”

Nancy made herself heard from where she shrank into one of the chairs, hugging herself. “A little late for the ‘don’t talk to cops’ speech.”

“That’s not all,” Erica confided with an accusatory glance around the room, crossing her arms. “I imagine we all have targets on us after we ran away from them.”

You were clasping your hands so tight, they shook. You clapped, turned your palms up, and clapped them again, smiling through your grimace. “A room full of wanted people. Great. Looks like we have our work cut out for us, then. Hiding from the police smack dab in the smallest town on the planet.” A few of them had the good graces to appear remorseful.

Eddie was uncharacteristically quiet.

Moving on, you apologized to the worn-down, fatigued group squeezing into any comfy spot they could fit into. “Sorry, I would’ve been here sooner. Had a few things to sort out before I could leave.”

The pinch of confusion concentrating between Eddie’s eyebrows subsided. His posture wilted, then stiffened. Jaw set. Grinding his teeth, pulsing the muscle there.

“Dinner should–ah!” The phone rang. You answered, and spoke briefly in, “Yeps!” and “Okays.” Pulling your wallet from your purse, you counted some cash, and made finger guns at the door. “Be right back.”

Eddie stopped you. Imposing his unassuming stature like a brick wall; expressionless, eyes glinting fragments of amber in the dim lamplight. Tone eerily calm, “You have Nationals in two days.”

“How do you even know that?”

“Nationals? I thought you said you had midterms this week?” Dustin recalled.

If looks could kill, Dustin would burst into flames under the ire of your glare, and you would be in the fifth circle of hell from Eddie’s.

“Midterms?” he repeated, turning his face away from Dustin to you, ever so slowly, pinning you with repercussions of his stare. “Midterms?” The incredulity spat from his lips. “Midterms?” He sounded in danger of hyperventilating. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“It doesn’t matter, Eddie,” you stressed. You dodged him, succeeding two paces towards your exit.

He trailed you. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters! Wait–Why wouldn’t it matter?” He caught the sleeve of your flannel, pulling the unbuttoned shirt down your shoulder, showing off your black muscle tank underneath.

You saw the question in his eyes. He saw the answer in yours.

“Why don’t your midterms matter?”

“I’m not discussing this with you.”

“..You dropped out?”

His weak whisper begged you to deny it. You pressed your lips in a nonnegotiable reticent line, and continued walking away, to where Robin and Steve observed you two at the table. But Eddie wasn’t done. When he was determined, he dug his hole to bedrock. Stubborn. Hounding you until you grasped the door knob, saying the one thing he shouldn’t.

“Please tell me you’re joking? You quit college to come here? Your entire future is planned out for you! I refuse to let you throw your life away for this!” Eddie collided with a force to be reckoned with. Whatever he was going to say on that next intake of breath was suffocated under your knuckles.

Initially, you intended to stab your finger at the center of his chest, but he failed to slow down at the same time you experienced a wave of confidence, so you eviscerated his hope by eliminating the space between your bodies, planting your fist firmly on him. A monumental touch.

The toe of his shoes nudged yours. His heartbeat swelled under your mighty hand. There was a gloss to his eyes, now, knocked from his outburst and coming to accept the gravity of you being here.

Your gaze bore into his. Unwavering, unflinching. Devoted and devastatingly honest. “I have earned the right to this life through blood, sweat, and tears,” your voice quivered. Channeling a lifetime of unworthiness into the cut of your words, leaving no room for argument, “I’ll do with it what I want. I’m not leaving you again, Eddie.” Any rebuttal vanished on those pink lips of his the moment you lifted your finger to his chin, dragging it across his stubble. “And I’d appreciate a thank you next time, sweetheart.”

At that, you were gone.

Eddie’s stomach clenched at the closed door.

“I like her,” Erica admired from her perch next to the TV, and Max agreed in an impressed, “Yeah.” Lucas shifted uncomfortably between them.

“Goddamnit, Goddamnit, Goddamnit.” Eddie paced, running his hands through his hair, exhaling repetitive expletives. Combing, raking, worrying until his oily fringe stood on end, and his short curls frizzed into a mane. God-fucking-damnit. “She.. Oh, fuck.”

He came to a forced halt.

“Hey, buddy,” Steve caught him in the curve of his arm–winced at the impact stretching his wounds–and turned their backs to the rest of the room with the exception of Robin, who offered Eddie a gentle smile.

Controlling his voice so only his chosen trinity heard, Steve thought it was time to give Eddie a heart-to-heart similar to the one he gave him in the Upside Down.

“Now, I acknowledge my privilege in regards to women willing to jump into a lake for me, but I’ve never seen anything like that with these optimistic eyes of mine,” he said in the same cadence Eddie used on him. Sparing a glance at the door, he clicked his tongue. “I’ve never known someone who’s just a friend to sacrifice the amount she has to be here today. We told her you were in trouble, and she came running. College education, whatever the hell Nationals is for her to have delts bigger than mine; nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing else mattered in the world except for protecting you. And that, that, is more than casual friendship, dude.” He leaned in. “To be honest, I’m jealous. If I were you, I’d have put a ring on her finger, like, yesterday.”

Eddie dragged a hand down his face, and kept his eyes closed. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, man. She’s my best friend.”

“Oh!” Robin snapped. “I love rom-coms, let me guess! You’ve been best friends since you were kids and–” She stood, eyes darting as she searched her memory for the hundreds of movies she’d watched. “Yeah, definitely best friends since you were kids, and you grew up together, always there for each other, fell in love with her years ago, and you’re scared that if you confess, either she’ll reject you or she’ll admit she’s been in love with you too, but then there’s the fear of something going wrong in the relationship, and you’d lose not only your girlfriend, but your best friend too! How’d I do? Did I get it right?”

In love with you for years.

The knot in Eddie’s throat bobbed under the eagerness of her beaming grin. Did Robin have a special talent, or was he that easy to read? Either way, his long hair was his saving grace, shielding his red ears from betraying him amidst the second worst week of his life.

“I think it’s sweet she’s wearing your shirt.”

“My..?”

“Yeah,” she answered his confusion. “The tag was sticking out. Your initials are E.M., right? Written with one of those jumbo Sharpies.”

The door knob jiggled. Eddie considered ducking behind a piece of furniture, but he figured his life couldn’t get more fucked than it currently was, and merely blinked at the opening door with disinterest, welcoming his fate.

“Dinner’s here,” you announced, juggling a stack of pizza boxes. The combined anxious energy of the room, and the deathly quiet, alerted you to the man-shaped brooding aura at your side, with his hands stuffed in his leather jacket’s pockets, and head dipped to deliver a condescending remark directly into your ear.

“Exactly what part of this situation screams ‘pizza party’ to you?”

Overflowing with a devious pout, you raised your shoulder to your chin, and batted your lashes at Eddie with a look of pure innocence. “Don’t worry, I ordered a sausage pizza just for you.”

“I’m going to kill you,” he stated.

“Wouldn’t want a second murder charge, Munson.”

“Actually, you’d be the third,” Dustin clarified, opening the top box and taking a slice of pepperoni before you could set them on the table. “He got a second charge yesterday, and now his name’s been released to the public. Got a whole village mob thing goin’ on. Pitchforks and all, probably.”

“Definitely,” Lucas mumbled.

At this point, your brain was too burnt-out from receiving shocking information for one day, so you nodded at them, and said, “Ah.” That’s it. Two murder charges? Wonderful. Police searching for the seven sets of hands clamoring over breadsticks? Lovely. Eddie’s name released to the public? Stupendous!

Life was great.

Yeah, life was great.

You sat on the side of the bed closest to the door, where you left your purse, and leaned against the pillow; and without a hint of communication, Eddie walked around to the other side, and mirrored you, sitting with one leg folded in front of him and the other hanging off the side, body slightly angled away, and scarfing down a slice of pizza. When he was done, you handed him another one. Along with a napkin.

Oddly, his attention seemed to be aimed at the back of your neck, and the tint of rosiness to his cheeks hadn’t disappeared from your innuendo earlier.

Sitting criss-cross on the floor, Robin sighed in bliss, “Warm food feels so good right now.” There was a round of drowsy hums in harmony. Tucking into their cheap, greasy fast food with the kind of melancholic joy of a prisoner eating their last meal.

“So..” you cut through the sounds of chewing. “Is anyone gonna explain why I’m here? Why the cops think Eddie murdered people, why you’re covered in blood, all that?” Considering you were judging Steve and his ability to eat with a gaping hole in his stomach poorly patched over with a strip of sweater, he took on the responsibility of filling you in

“A girl named Chrissy Cunningham–”

“Chrissy? I know her. We took tumbling together at the rec center as kids.” You heard Eddie’s hard exhale behind you, and sneaked a look at him. His eyes were screwed closed, and his face was scrunched in pain, smoothing his fingertips over the bridge of his nose.

Steve continued, a bit more gently, “Well, she was at Eddie’s trailer when she died. Murdered would be a better word, by Vecna, who I’ll get to in a minute, but that’s why the police think it’s him. Anyway, yeah, Vecna’s this dude who lives in a place we call the Upside Down..”

Calm. Calm. Calm. CalmCalmCalm. calmcalmcalmcalmcalm.

Chrissy was at Eddie’s trailer.

Chrissy was at Eddie’s trailer and you could feel the etch of his stare on the side of your face, analyzing your reaction. You gave him nothing but passivity. Resisting the urge to scratch at the sudden itchy sweat dripping down your back. Refusing to take your eyes off Steve, who was going on and on about shit you couldn’t fathom, trying desperately to not dwell on the reason why Eddie cringed when he remembered you knew her. Thinking maybe he meant to pick someone anonymous to date, and this was crossing a boundary. Forcing yourself to hang onto every word falling from Steve’s mouth in order to smother the nagging voices in your head taunting you, telling you he stopped calling because he had a girlfriend.

“And, yeah, the Upside Down is just like Hawkins, but there’s monsters everywhere, and Vecna controls them..”

“Oh!” Robin perked up at you. “You would’ve been great with the Demobats! You could’ve punched them right outta the sky. Couldn’t she, Steve?”

Steve stuttered, “I-I mean, they’re bigger than a normal bat.. And have barbs on their tails. Big teeth and claws. And, uh, stronger than you think.. I could’ve taken them too, if I wasn’t ganged up on by.. ten, or more of them..”

Erica’s judgy sneer spoke for all of you.

You meant no offense to Steve, or any of the kids joining him in explaining this whole other dimension, and girl-with-powers thing, but it was mostly going in one ear and out the other. It was hard to follow along with what nonsense they were spouting when Eddie’s gaze was still on you, and you were ashamed to admit how much it bothered you to know he was dating someone else. Not you. Never you.

“A hell world filled with monsters and a big bad guy that looks like beef jerky, and he’s the one that killed Chrissy and Patrick and Fred, and now Max is next, and all this is connected to a girl whose name is a number. Got it.” You sipped your water.

Dustin quipped, “Yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Great,” Steve groaned, pushing himself out of the chair, and unanimously, the rest of the group followed his lead. “Now that we’re on the same page, we should get going.”

“Wait, where’re you going?” Eddie panicked.

Lucas sucked the oil off his fingers, much to Erica’s revulsion, and then wiped them on his pants, much to Max’s dismay. “We have our own Safe House.”

“Yeah, you two get some rest, we’ll be back tomorrow to work out a plan,” Steve said, making his way to the window and opening it for the party to leave through. “Should probably take care of these bites before I die of sepsis. That would be lame way to go out. And your van is still in the woods next to Reefer Rick’s, right? We’ll take care of it for you. Make it look like you left town or something.”

“Is there anything you want us to save in there before we do?” Robin asked.

Many emotions influenced Eddie’s facial expressions. Fond thoughts of his precious amps, a guitar or two, a few stashes of keepsakes that were less important than the ones in his room, but worthy of rescuing nonetheless. “Yeah, there’s uh..” he trailed off. The crust of his sausage pizza went limp in his hand.

He did not need a bunch of children discovering what else he had hidden in the back of his van–namely, the specially ordered magazines featuring women in little clothing, with pages dogeared on the models who resembled someone currently narrowing their eyes at him.

“Actually, forget it,” he said after spacing out. “Do whatever you want.”

Eddie shoved the crust in his mouth to prevent him from saying more.

“‘Kay.. You two have fun,” Steve said, sporting an annoying salute. It was obvious he wanted to imply more, but reading the mood of the room, he let it go, and climbed through the window, shutting it behind him.

“Not too much fun,” Robin chimed in from beyond the glass as the two halves of the curtain united.

The stillness that followed was heavy. Cold. Even when they were quiet, it was impossible to disguise the racket a group of people produced; breathing, swallowing, shuffling their feet, sighing. There was an awareness in the tension remaining. You and Eddie. Sharing the same bed.

And what better way to shush your nerves than by opening the mini fridge. “Now that the kids are gone,” you said, grabbing two ice-cold bottles, and walking them to Eddie.

He accepted the beer with more gratitude than you deserved. “A 40oz? Have I ever told you you’re an angel?”

“Don’t think you’ve ever called me that, no.”

Each step away from him was a deliberate action. Choosing to return to your side of the bed instead of sitting next to him. Sinking into the plush duvet, backs facing each other, playing with twist tops until the other cracked theirs first–tsss. Minds drifting to the same topic, yet declining to acknowledge it. Until the bile burning the length of your chest was too much to ignore.

Staring at the joint where the popcorn ceiling met the wall, you supposed you went over the sentence in your head hundreds of times before you could articulate it casually and without an underlying tremor of jealousy.

“Not that it matters, and you don’t have to answer, but.. What was Chrissy doing at your trailer?”

“It was just a drug deal.” The fact he chose the direct route of correcting what you were implying was not lost on you. He used a strong, swift, powerful voice to allay any worry you had before it could evolve into suspicion, “When Vecna picks his target, they start getting these massive headaches, and have hallucinations. She came to me looking for weed at first, and then asked for something stronger. I knew I had some K at home, so I took her there, where she.. s-she..”

Glancing, you made eye contact with him through the mirror, and when he turned to look at you, you twisted to face him.

“I swear it wasn’t anything more than a drug deal,” he promised softly. Imbuing his words with sincerity, and his wide eyes with naked candor, pleading for you to believe him with more passion than a friend should have, as if it mattered to him that you knew he didn’t have feelings for her. But neither of you addressed that convoluted mess, just like he didn’t question the significance of you crawling across the bed to sit next to him only once you knew he wasn’t dating someone while you were away.

He spread his legs to increase the staggering amount of thigh you had pressed against his in an invaluable moment of overindulgence.

You clinked his beer.

Both of you closed your eyes, put the bottles to your lips, and tipped your heads back, drinking with a sigh.

“In trouble and from darkness you come, Eddie, yet your coming is joy to me,” you said in a wise, old voice.

“Quoting Earthsea at me?” His chest rose with a besotted hum. “Never change.”

Swallowing the bitter taste of alcohol, you asked, “Is what they said true?”

“Never met Eleven, but yeah, it’s all true. Robin was right, too. We could’ve used your help back there. Coulda punched the bats right outta the sky.” He mimicked throwing weak punches while making cartoon sound effects with his mouth.

You snorted into your bottle while taking another gulp. Eddie copied you, downing his with more vigor. No one could blame him.

“Is it, ah..” he started, running his palm over the shredded strings of his jeans stretched over his knee. “Is it true, about school? Did you..?”

“It’s not so cut and dry,” you assured him, figuring he’d been tortured enough for one day. “I drafted my letter, but it still needs the signatures from the rest of my professors, my Coach, all that stuff.” Beer fueled your dismissive hand movements. “I tried to finish my first midterm on Monday, Eddie, I really did, but I couldn’t just sit there and focus on a stupid test while you were 8 hours away, in deep shit.”

In your periphery, you saw his disappointed head shake, causing knotted strands of his hair to fall over his hunched shoulders.

“I still think you’re ruining your future.”

“What if I don’t give a fuck?” He jerked at your abrasiveness. You collected the condensation from your bottle and dried your hand on your thigh, wedging your fingers over the curve of the muscle, and sliding them along his leg. “What if I don’t want to go to college anymore, or work myself to an early grave and not get appreciated for it? Win all the Golds I can hang around my neck, but can’t walk the next morning? What if I want to join the circus and learn to juggle while tightrope walking? What if I die there, instead? What if I don’t know what I want to do with my life? Is that okay? What if New Years was the last time I saw you?” You stopped to suppress the air in your lungs. Holding it there. Not letting it go. Not until the tears stopped blurring your vision. “What if I don’t give a fuck about any of your dreams for me? Not yours, not mom’s, not Coach’s. What if I’m finally doing what I want?”

He stopped wringing his lips together to ask meekly, “And what’s that?”

You released a sad, single laugh, and conceded to the one thought repeating on an endless loop above all others in your head. “At first I was going to say keeping you out of trouble, but I think we both know.. When you’re in trouble, I’m right there with you. I want to be right there with you. Forever, remember?”

Unable to verbalize what he was thinking to give the outer corners of his eyes a delicate kiss of wrinkles, he made a noise of agreement, and cheers you with a dear lean into your shoulder. You braced him. For just a brief second. It was lovely.

“And to address the elephant in the room,” you began in a mocking tone, “Yes, that’s my gym bag next to my suitcase, and yes, I can still compete at Nationals if I want to. I haven’t officially dropped out yet.”

“Good to know.”

The conversation stalled as Eddie downed the rest of his beer and sat it on the nightstand with a clunk. You weren’t far behind him. Despite the pleasant tipsiness you both had at this point, the humor of the night dwindled to the circular cycles of grief. Of uprooting your life for someone who unfairly witnessed too much.

“I’ve never been more scared in my life,” Eddie admitted in a whisper. His stare was unfocused. Haunted. Remembering things he never should have been subjected to. “I’ve just been running.. Running away in fear. I can’t even process what’s happening anymore.”

“Mm, I think my brain shut down hours ago.” Probably after your sixth caffeine pill wore off post-midterm and post-packing your car for an undetermined amount of days trip and post-driving in the countryside at night. It was reprehensible enough your first thought upon learning of Chrissy’s death was to accuse Eddie of fucking her instead of mourning her life like any sane person, but you tried to give yourself a break. Nothing about the last few days had been sane, or rational.

Gliding the back of your fingers along the seam of his jacket sleeve to the top of its broken zipper in an attempt to soothe him without direct contact, you reeled at the black goop you collected in the process.

Eddie took the hint. “Guess I should shower now.”

“Yeah, you smell awful.”

“Breaking my heart here, babe.”

Nothing woke you up quite like him using a pet name for you. He might rejoice when his battered body hit the mattress later, but you could cry now. Embarrassingly, you could weep at his use of a term of endearment. Babe. He was so sweet to someone so selfish as you.

He asked, “Will you be asleep when I get out?”

You put your whole body into nodding, and answered gruffly, “Oh, yes.”

~~~

Eddie stared at his naked self in the mirror. A bruise the size of a basketball was swelling to fruition along his ass cheek and hip from when he caught Robin during an earthquake. Spinning in a slow circle, he assessed more. Turning this way and that to find scrapes in strange places. Muddy brown blood mixed with unnatural black. Constellations of purple under layers of filth. Traumas to the surface he couldn’t recall earning. He hurt so much, he couldn’t feel them anymore, and scavenging his body was the preferred distraction from where he knew he was retrograding. The inevitable.

Snap.

Twist.

Squish.

Pop.

Adrenaline was a backhanded thing. It aided memory. Thrills you wanted to imprint for a lifetime, and horrors you did not.

Why did he work so hard to swim for air only to be met with the snap of Patrick’s knees echoing across the surface? Jason’s reedy cry when his friend’s mangled body splashed his face?

Why did he keep his eyes open when Chrissy’s popped, and wetness rained upon his cheeks?

Water felt awful on his skull. Drumming like their twisted fingers on his scalp, tracing the ridges of his spine. Running grungy with muck, and never feeling clean. The white soap you left for him was too pure. The shampoo bottle felt wrong under his torn fingernails paling from the strain of his clutch on reality. The cold tile dripped with sludge found at the bottom of the lake as he rested his forehead there, trying to calm himself down.

He tried. He tried. He tried.

Scrubbing himself til his skin blushed pink. Til his tangled hair combed smooth between his fingers. Til the beat of hot water on the tub drowned everything out. Til he didn’t care that he was using your toothbrush after his fourth consecutive day of morning breath.

Wiping the fog from the mirror, he knew he’d lost it.

He didn’t recognize himself.

He did, but he didn’t.

Toeing at his dirty clothes stretched across the floor to be dealt with at a later time, he dressed in his blue checkered boxers, and peeked outside the door.

The room was dark, and you didn’t make a sound.

Creeping further into the short hallway, he saw your back facing him from the bed. Shoulders just a touch above the covers.

Eddie opened the door wider and reached for the light switch. He hesitated, and dropped his hand.

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t turn off the light. Too dark. For days on end. The forest surrounding Lover’s Lake, Skull Rock, the Upside Down, and Hawkins. Dark dark dark.

Going to the small TV on the chest of drawers, he flipped it on, and turned the volume down low. Adjusting the antennas, it was with a passing bit of ease he understood what he was watching. The fuzz dissipated. The dampness on his skin dried. The wrestlers slammed their backs on the squared circle. Not popular wrestlers who had audiences flocking to see them. Obscure ones. Still, he knew their names from the hours he’d spent at Gareth’s, insisting he used his cable to watch the weekly shows. Because it made him feel connected to you.

He walked to his side of the bed. Watched you for a moment. Shoulders rising and falling in peace under a loose white shirt. Bedsheet wrapped around your fists nestled to your chin.

You were wearing something different from earlier, and he was mostly naked.

Opening your suitcase, the black muscle tee welcomed him like an old friend. Tattered. Holes along the hem. It wasn’t sleeveless when he gave it to you some odd years ago, you must’ve ripped them off. What a liar. Claiming you returned all his clothes before you moved away. He wasn’t too surprised, though, running his finger over the tag with his initials.

Afterall, he collected many more reminders of you.

Moving on, he dug deeper. Clawing his way through your neatly folded outfits. Searching, searching. Pulling things out at random and holding them up to his body and tossing them. Over and over. He was panicking. Sweating. Couldn’t catch his breath. The inevitable. It was happening. It was happening. It was coming. It was here.

His chest tightened.

He grabbed a dark blue sweatshirt and pulled it over his head. It didn’t fit. The cuffs resisted meeting his wrist. Covered most of his skin. It’d have to do.

He went to his side of the bed again. And stared.

Snap.

Twist.

Squish.

Pop.

“Hey.” It came out as a whimper. “Are you awake?”

The first tear beaded over his lower lashes.

Could you feel it if he touched you? The secrets he kept suppressed for years? Screaming violence in his blood when you got a little too close. When he let you take things a little too far. When he dropped his guard a little too much. When you looked at him for the first time in months, and he got carried away, almost pressing his forehead to yours in a kind of intimacy he’d never explored before. Take, take, take. More, more, more.

He couldn’t. It was inappropriate. Friends. You were just friends. Best friends.

What were you wearing? He couldn’t find bottoms that fit. His legs were exposed. Were yours?

Shaking. Shaking. The ache was getting worse. Building, building, building. Throat constricting. Teeth clacking. Inappropriate, inappropriate, inappropriate.

A tear clung to the corner of his unsteady frown.

“Can I hold you?”

You didn’t answer, sleeping.

His Light. His Safe House.

Snap.

Twist.

Squish.

Pop.

The last of his energy being used to stave off the inevitable vanished. He buckled. He couldn’t do it. Beaten down by his reputation, his cowardice, his inability to succeed, his self-destructive habit of resisting taking refuge in the one person who brought him unconditional shelter without expecting anything in return.. All of it broke at once.

Light.

Safety.

Refuge.

Sanctuary.

With his gaze on the floor, his tears dotted the carpet as he tried between desperate inhales, “N-Need to hold you.”

He pulled back the covers and crawled into bed next to you. Shifting closer, closer. Sliding his arm under your head, throwing his other across your chest, and bringing you to him. More, more, more. It was wrong. It should feel wrong. It didn’t feel wrong. Your sleepy face was pressed into his flexed bicep, lifting your cheek to his nose. To where his lips muttered into your soft skin. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.

He said it in coughs due to his sobs. “Sorry–S-Sorry,” he wept. “I–Sorry. I. I.” His tears slipped over his nose, falling to your cheek in one stride. He shouldn’t be doing this. Holding you like this. Legs tucked against yours. It was wrong. Inappropriate. “Just need to hold you. I’m so sorry. Oh, God. I’m s-so sorry.” He risked more intimacy. Hugging you to his chest with the strength of his dormant urges. Years of cravings stirring in his muscles. Desires coaxing his lips–just once–to discover your jaw as he attempted to control himself, and force his face into the vacancy below your ear, burying himself against your neck, making a small whine when your hand found his safe haven.

You reassured him in a tender stroke along his temple. “It’s okay, Eddie. I’m here. You can hold me.”

Taglist: @xxhospital-for-soulsxx @myfavoritesareproblematic @henhouse-horrors @tlclick73 @sidthedollface2 @i-will-duckyou-up @qnsfwthoughts @captainonaboat @eddiemuns0nl0ver @godcreatoreli @harrys-tittie @eg-dr3amer3 @trixyvix88 @venomsvl @lacrymosa-24 @sashaphantomhive @sharp-and-swift @emokid-ellie @mantorokk-writes @drdvlss @mirrorsstuff @bebe0701 @eddiethesexy @edsforehead @b-irock @brittney69 @princesseddie @hes-a-rainbow @churchmuffins @barbielibra @lulukings92 @emotionaldreamer @whoahoney @walleloveseve @glossiepjm @hellfire-puppet @eiriancrow @munsons-mayhem28 @mattymurdocksbitch @tayhar811

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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sailing-through-hawkins · 1 year

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had this in my head and then saw this post by @babyboyargyle so i took it as a sign to write it out! it's not perfect but it was fun (*^▽^*)

Say what you want to about monsters and killers and the apocalypse but at least this time they've got all-day access to pizza. Steve doesn't really know where this guy came from but damn, he makes a great margherita.

"Guys, this is Argyle," Jonathan introduces, waving towards a man with very, very long hair, holy shit.

Steve takes a second from hammering nails into the fifth bat that he's been tossed to give the guy a nod. He nods back, eyes flitting between the bat in Steve's hands to the bandages wrapped around his waist. But Steve's used to everyone keeping an eye on his wounds, from his stomach to his back to his arms to his head. He's a magnet for damage, that's just how it is.

"Hey man," Steve greets with a wave and gets back to hammering. "Welcome to the shitshow."

"Y-yeah," Argyle swallows with another nod. "Glad to be here."

At first, he seemed like a great addition. Argyle's funny, chill in a way that Steve hasn't experienced since '83, maybe even before that. Despite all the monsters lurking and the crackling in the air, dude kept his cool and got to work on food supplies and even teaching everyone how to do tracking shit like something out of a nature show.

But then, on their way back to the base (also known as Steve's fucking house), Jonathan's team is almost swarmed by demodogs and Steve and Robin have to run out to give 'em hell.

Ha, giving hell to the hellbeasts. Is that irony? Dustin would call it irony, Steve thinks.

After a little carnage and some (very therapeutic, according to Robin) violence, they manage to annihilate the 'dogs and get Will to throw their tracks off so they have their safe zone for a bit longer at least, but Argyle is quiet and frantic-eyed the entire walk home. It unsettles Steve, all that antsy energy building up under the surface.

Once safely inside, Jonathan and Nancy start on organizing the new supplies. It's when Jonathan manages to drop a water bottle that all that tension finally bursts.

"Shit, oh man, shit, shit, oh my god!" Argyle's pacing back and forth, hands scrunching up into his scalp which, yikes, not a good look for that mane. "This is so messed up, this is crazy, this is so messed up!"

Jonathan steps forward with a, "Argyle, Argyle, listen -"

"No, no, no, last time I listened to you, there was an open grave in front of me and now there's like fifty thousand demons out there! The world is fucking crazy right now, man, I am freaking out! I am -"

Okay, damage control time.

"Hey, hey, hey -" Steve shifts himself into Argyle's line of sight, holding his hands up and letting out a low whistle. "Dude, take a breath, alright?"

Which is apparently all the guy needs to latch his hands onto Steve's shoulders very, very tightly, holy shit, this guy's grip. "How am I supposed to breathe when -"

"Look at me, in-and-out, alright?" Steve exaggerates his own breathing, letting Argyle take his time in copying the motions. "In, out, in, out, you're doing good. It's pretty scary out here, huh?"

Argyle's grip on his shoulders tenses but Steve quickly grabs onto his wrists, gives them a short squeeze, and suddenly all that tension deflates. Which means physical contact is a go for reassurance, nice. "Yeah."

"I get it, man, I do. First time I got into this shit? I was ready to hightail it outta there and never look back, y'know?" He looks up from under his lashes, giving the guy what he hopes is a comforting smile. Judging by the hitch in his breath, it's not as comforting as Steve hopes. "But I get the feeling you're a ride-or-die type, right?"

Argyle shrugs, eyes fixated on Steve like he's the last hope he's got. No pressure.

"Look, I can't like - I can't guarantee much, wouldn't wanna jinx anything, but we're going to handle this, alright?" Damn, his hands are really warm. Is it because he's stressed? Even Steve doesn't run this warm when he's stressed, dude must be keeping a lot of anxiety under all that...weed? California weed? Whatever, focus, Steve. "It's not our first or second, not even third rodeo with this shit, we can absolutely handle it."

"You can handle it," Argyle says in what Steve thinks might be...petulant? Oh, that's fun, this guy is totally going to be fun to have around for the long haul. "Man, I don't even know what the hell is going on anywhere anymore."

Steve laughs, rubbing circles into Argyle's skin with his thumb. He's definitely wired up but that tight spark of panic in his eye is getting dimmer, so the contact might actually be working here. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't think any of us know what's happening."

"How -"

"That's the thing, we don't need all the answers right now," Steve pats his wrist and tries a different kind of smile this time which, judging by the way Argyle's gulping and kind of just staring at him, might be working? Okay, fifty-fifty on that. "Just need to figure it out one step at a time."

"I don't - I'm kinda freaking out here, dude," Argyle confesses, like it wasn't kinda obvious for everyone in the room, as he lets go of Steve's shoulders (fuck, his grip is killer, there's definitely gonna be marks tomorrow) and lets his hands hang by his waist in a really sad way. Steve nods, patting his shoulder and gently leading him to the closest chair he can find (of course it's the sofa Mike left his socks on, god damn it Wheeler). "I'm not cut out for this freaky stuff, man, what if - what if we don't make it -"

"Hey," Steve says sharply, immediately regretting it when Argyle flinches at his tone. Take a breath, relax, the guy's worried, that's all. Steve softens his voice, and rubs a hand down his back when he buries his face in his hands. Huh, that's a quality shirt. "Hey, I get it. Believe me, I know how overwhelming this all is when you've got like, zero clue how it all happened. But I got your back here, dude, I'll watch your six."

And woah. Argyle snaps his face back to Steve, eyes wide and mouth just slightly agape. "You what?"

"'S kinda my job," Steve shrugs, continuing to rub his back so he can figure out why this material feels so familiar, what the hell. "I'm the babysitter," - ignore Mike's affronted scoff, stay focused - "I keep track with the whole newbie thing most of the time. I mean like, we all got your back but y'know - like - I'll personally make sure nothing happens to you, if that helps?"

Argyle stares at him for a few seconds, making it really hard not to squirm in the silence. Steve settles for scratching at his nose, finally taking his hand off that damned shirt, the fuck kind of brand is it?! Not important, focus, focus.

"Uh, sorry if that - I didn't mean to come on too strong or anything -"

"Holy shit, dude," Argyle breathes out, one of his (very warm) hands coming down to grip Steve's knee. "You're like, a godsend."

"Oh, uh, thank you?" Steve blinks when Argyle beams at him and pats his knee. Huh, maybe he's getting better at this comforting stuff. "Are - you good now?"

"Hell yes, my friend, I have a killer beast 'watching my six', don't I?" Argyle winks and shit, Steve's wounds must be inflaming again, his skin feels hot. "Now who's ready for some pie!"

Steve watches as he swoops up, practically glowing with such a positive energy it's kind of giving him whiplash. He stares as Argyle makes his way to the kitchen, snatching another glance back at Steve and giving him a wide grin, another wink and a salute before he disappears.

"What just happened?" Steve blinks again.

Jonathan pats his shoulder in sympathy which, uh, why? "You've just been Argyle'd."

"What does that even mean?" Steve splutters because what the hell is even happening. "And what did he mean by an open grave?"

"It's a long story," Jonathan sighs and gives him another pat. "Tell you once you help me sort out the water supply."

"The supply that you were supposed to figure out before you left, that water supply?"

"Fuck you," Jonathan grins and Steve shakes off the buzzing heat under his skin.

Everything's fine, all is cool. Just gotta keep an extra eye on Argyle.

Easy-peasy. Fuck, please be easy-peasy.

#stargyle #writing #ficlet #au content #steve harrington #argyle stranger things #stranger things #i just think it'd be funny if argyle thought steve meant he'd watch his ass instead of his back #also that argyle's panicking immediately side-steps for argyle's flirting #sailor✧writes

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grandwretch · 1 year

Text

ok let me talk about the steddie sentinel au I wanna write bc like. its all I can fucking think about yk

alright so. I want it to be closer to show canon bc the shows origins have really been like. lost in the fanfic trope of it all which is cool and all but i think that making it show canon could be so delicious.

and like its set a decade before the show right so it would be like. blair's research into sentinels and guides would have never been published, so it's a great way to have something weird and terrifying happen to steve and NO ONE ELSE IN PUBLISHED HISTORY has been through it before so its really up to the Party to figure it out.

so I'm thinking that Steve comes "online" while in the Upside Down. because that's the most stress he's ever been in AND I think its what his instincts would see most as a survival/tribal situation like. he has three people he has to protect and he's literally in a blighted hell dimension and also if he doesn't take care of everyone, Max will die and, oh yeah, he has no proof that Jonathan, El, Will, and Mike aren't already dead.

He chalks the random oversensitivity to stress and wounds. Its not until he's in his hospital room that he realizes he can hear Eddie's heartbeat from across the hall. He yanks the IV out of his arm and goes to find Dustin.

After that, I think there's like a huge squabble about Steve's "powers" and whether or not they're real and what they mean. Steve doesn't think of them as powers, he doesn't think they compare to El at all and they're functionally useless. "I can't SMELL a demogorgon to death, Dustin." Robin freaks out and wonders if Steve is a vessel like Will now, but they all dismiss it because Will got weaker, not faster and stronger. Eddie practically climbs inside Steve's mouth looking for fangs.

El quietly asks if Steve is from a lab, too. Steve says his dad is pretty awful, but he's not an evil mad scientist sponsored by the government or whatever.

So they undergo a series of stress tests, trying to find the outer limits of what Steve can do. Hopper gets surprisingly into the whole thing, sending Steve through drills and training that he picked up in the military. Steve's Sentinel powers come to him much more smoothly than Jim, simply because he has a much more structured regimen, and less near death experiences while he gets used to his new senses.

Steve fucking hates it. He hates feeling like a science experiment, and he hates running stupid obstacle courses and letting El throw things at him to test his reaction time. He hates how his entire stupid life has become about this... thing that's happened to him, thats not even that useful, because its not like he's stronger. He's just a better fighter for a human, which isn't going to do much against Vecna.

Even worse, he had to quit his job, because turning all his senses up to 11 has made retail impossible. The blend of perfumes and body odor gives him headaches, he can't stand being able to hear every fucking conversation in the store, and the fluorescent lights hurt his eyes.

Throughout it all, the Munson's trailer is kind of a refuge. After Eddie finally accepted that Steve wasn't some kind of sexy vampire here to seduce their souls away, he dismissed whatever was happening to Steve as boring. So Steve feels like a fucking human again with Eddie, and-- Okay, Eddie is loud and grating and always smells like weed, but those things were already annoying before Steve was like this. He's used to tuning it out, so its almost comforting to be surrounded by them.

Besides, everything the Munsons own is well worn and soft, not like the textures of his own home, more pleasing to the eye than the skin. And if Steve asks very nicely, Eddie will play his acoustic; sweet, soft melodies that don't hurt Steve's ears like the radio does.

(Unbeknownst to Steve, Eddie learns all his favorite songs in a flurry of tapes. He replaces all the soap and detergent in the house with the fancy kind meant for people with allergies. He spends so much money Steve-proofing his place, but he never complains once. He never wants Steve to leave again.)

But the Munson trailer can't stop the worst of it, which is Steve's unbearable need to protect. He already had a superhero complex, but now its even worse. If he goes too long without doing something active, there's an itch under his skin that he can't shake. So he has to venture out again, back to Hoppers' canon for more stupid tests, or patrolling around the town until even his improved stamina falters.

Thats how he zones, the first time. He's roaming through the streets when he hears Dustin and Lucas up in Dustin's room, laughing at some movie. He focuses on the sound of their laughter for a little too long, and suddenly thats all he can hear. Thats all he can feel at all, actually, just their voices. It consumes him.

They find him like that when Lucas goes to leave, hours later. Standing in the Henderson's yard, bat in hand, unmoving. They call everyone, but Eddie gets there first, driving like the devil is after him. He freaks out, understandably, but Dustin calms him with the facts that Steve's eyes haven't rolled, and he's been gone for who knows how long without floating, so its probably not Vecna.

Eddie doesn't feel better.

They try every song on every tape Steve owns. He flinches at a few louder ones, but nothing works. Eventually, Hopper and Jonathan manage to get Steve into a car, his body unresponsive in their hands.

Robin wants to take him to the hospital, but Nancy tells her, softly, that it might alert the wrong people to Steve's condition. What wouldn't the American military do for a body with improved reflexes and speed, who can see and avoid a speeding bullet, and hear the heartbeats of his enemies? They take him to the trailer, because Eddie insists that he and Wayne will be able to take care of Steve. They know what he likes, what triggers him, better than people who do it on purpose.

The worry makes Eddie maybe a little meaner than he means to be.

When they get him home, Eddie wraps Steve up in all his favorite blankets, ones that smell like them both and Wayne's favorite cigarettes. He kisses Steve's forehead and sits next to him on the bed, playing his acoustic and singing all Steve's favorite songs. He knows they didn't work before, but he doesn't know what else to do, and if he just has to watch Steve lay there, he'll cry.

Its the first time, and he's been stuck so long it takes him forever to find his way out, but eventually Steve surfaces. His eyes blink into focus and he swallows around a dry throat.

Steve looks at Eddie, the man who Guided him out of the deep, dark well of his own mind.

"What'd I miss?"

#shut up az #steddie #I cant explain this #except that my laptop is broken and my mom is sending me her old one but in the meantime handwriting obts is like so awkward #bc who has handwritten smut in 2023 #so my creative vibes are overflowing and thats how we get shit like this #like a neat 500 words of sheer insanity #idk

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hairstevington · 10 months

Text

flowers and ink (final part)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie and Steve are happy. Chrissy and Robin are happy. Jonathan meets Argyle. Everyone is happy!

Part one, part two, part three, part four part five part six part seven part eight link to Ao3

Word Count: 1100

Warnings: So sweet you'll get a cavity tbh, Jargyle (because why not), they are idiots one last time, also more Gareth!

Author's Note: Awww, it was emotional to close this one out! Thank you to all who have read and followed along. I can't believe this was only going to be 2 parts at first. I am a FOOL with Steddie brainrot. Until next time!!

Steve wasn’t sure what he was expecting when Eddie said he’d gotten him a gift, but it sure as shit wasn’t this.

“Oh, my god,” Steve said, holding it up to see it in all its glory. A t-shirt with words printed over a rainbow across the chest: Steve & Robin - Not dating, just gay and codependent.

“Obviously, I have one for Robin too,” Eddie said, tossing Steve a second shirt.

“Oh, my God!” Steve repeated, laughing this time. It was perfect and so incredibly weird. He couldn’t wait to model them with his best friend and take the most ridiculous not-couple pictures of all time. “This is - I mean, Jesus! I love it, but would you let me be the impressive one for once?”

Eddie looked Steve up and down, then smirked.

“With those abs? Don’t worry, you’re still the impressive one here.” Steve blushed, then sat up in bed so he could put the shirt on, but Eddie stopped him. “Woaaaah there, what are you doing? You can’t cover up, I’m enjoying the view.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“You’re not going to let me use the gift you got me?”

“Not yet,” Eddie replied. “I’m actually kind of regretting the whole thing now. You should probably never wear a shirt ever again. Can I have it back actually?” Steve chuckled, then smacked Eddie playfully on the arm.

“No way.”

“Steve, you wound me," Eddie joked. "But fine, as you wish."

Eddie and Steve had been official for 2 months at this point, and everything was kind of perfect. They each continued to work their respective jobs, and with their added happiness came enhanced customer service.

Bob was happy - both for Eddie’s shift in demeanor as well as for the business. They were doing great! Plus, he got bonus points as a step-dad for introducing Will to Eddie and the shop. Will came to visit a few more times, and this time he got to talk to Steve, too. It was clear that seeing a happy gay couple was important for Will. He hadn’t seen much of that in his small town, so seeing Eddie and Steve be so grossly into each other was refreshing.

And gross.

But mostly refreshing!

One day, Will’s older brother dropped Will off at the shop, introducing yet another cool person into the friend group - Jonathan. By then, Eddie had succeeded in making Argyle his friend, and the two of them spent many nights smoking and watching those stupid stoner comedies together in Argyle’s weird, confusingly giant house that he somehow lived in.

Seriously, how did the guy have a house like that already? How did he have the money to travel so much with Chrissy? Her show was good and all, but it couldn’t possibly be getting her that much income.

In any case, Argyle and Eddie were buds, so Argyle also happened to be around when Jonathan walked into Ink About It.

The bromance between Jonathan and Argyle was pretty much immediate. Eddie would have felt mildly jealous about it if he hadn’t noticed some very familiar (aka queer) vibes between the two. Perhaps Will wasn’t the only Byers grappling with their identity, that's all Eddie was saying - but it was just speculation. Eddie kept his mouth shut (except to Steve, obviously, who fully agreed). In due time, as with anything else.

So then they all hung out - Chrissy, Jonathan, Argyle, Steve, Eddie, and Robin. They’d formed quite the friend group - all of them getting along with each other beautifully. Argyle even hosted a road trip with the squad in his giant pizza van (???) so that they could all surprise Gareth at a Corroded Coffin show.

That night was epic, and it finally cemented Robin and Chrissy as girlfriends.

After their date, they’d both been super into each other - undeniably so. Yet, because Chrissy was so often moving around, they’d decided it was best to just stay friends.

Yeah. Eddie and Steve knew that wouldn’t last very long.

It still lasted longer than it should have, and the pining was rampant. Every time they all hung out, the two women wouldn’t stop staring at each other, cracking jokes, and giving everyone else in the room ample opportunities to share knowing glances…

And then they went on the road trip, and they got super drunk, and Robin tended to speak a lot more freely when she was intoxicated.

She professed her love to Chrissy on the dance floor.

It was a bold move, but it paid off. Chrissy and Argyle extended their stay in Hawkins, and Robin and Chrissy became an official couple.

Coincidentally, that night was also pretty huge for Eddie and Steve. Firstly, because Chrissy and Robin had dropped the “I love you’s” before they had, which felt kind of ridiculous, considering Eddie and Steve obviously loved each other.

“The fucking lesbians stole my thunder!” Eddie yelled from the bar, watching Robin and Chrissy hug each other on the dance floor.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, amused at his boyfriend’s antics.

“Ladies and Gentleman!”

Gareth’s voice boomed from the stage. The band had taken a quick break, but were back on. Eddie grinned, then grabbed Steve’s hand.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get closer.” They wandered through the crowd (past Chrissy and Robin) as Gareth continued.

“We’ve got a surprise for you all. You see, my boy Eddie Munson requested we play a special song tonight. So, this one’s for you, Flower Boy. Lord knows we wouldn’t play this for anyone else.”

Before Steve could even process what was happening, the band began to play. It wasn’t metal, it was -

“I Melt With You,” Steve said once he recognized it. “I love this song.”

“Iiiiii know!” Eddie responded, laughing. He pulled Steve into him so they could swing along to the music. “This was my whole master plan. Was gonna have them play this and tell you I loved you and it was going to be this whole beautiful moment but then Robin-”

“Eddie,” Steve interrupted, laughing. Eddie’s jaw dropped, and then he facepalmed.

“Oh my god I totally just said it without meaning to,” he said. “I’ve been holding out for WEEKS and -”

“You’ve loved me for weeks?” Steve asked, touched.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie replied. “Duh.” His eyes bugged out on that last word, his voice taking on a goofy, boyish cadence. Steve smiled.

“You’re so ridiculous,” he said, shaking his head. “And I love you too.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked, grinning.

“Duh,” Steve replied, attempting to mimic Eddie’s response from before. “Robin didn’t ruin your big plan, by the way. That was all you.” Eddie chuckled.

“You still love me though,” he said. Steve nodded, and then they were kissing.

I’ll stop the world and melt with you.

Yeah. That song pretty much said it all.

Everything felt just right🌹

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

Check out my Masterlist for other fics/content!

@paintballkid711 @abraca-fxckyou @allbimyself26 @jellybabiesforall @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @justaloadofgarbage-blog @alliemunsonsstuff @undreamingnscatworld @hobbitnarwhal @calivanus @wreckmyplans-thatsmyman @antheia @goodolefashionedloverboi @lillemilly @missmagillicuddy @gamerdano @menamesniall @eyeslikewildflowers111 @callmesirkay @stringischeese @eds-trashmouth @mnl-enuh @redfreckledwolf @itsanarrum @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @aryakanojiaa @wrenisflying @comicmadlover @lilacrobin @itch-my-b0nez @anonymousbandgirl @disastardly @dangdirtydemons @daisyellsong @val-from-lawrence @starryeyedpoet17 @taikawaiteatea @clumsiluni @hollysimone @swimmingbirdrunningrock @witchofhawkins @steddiegarbage @suddenlyinlove @ricekristytreaty @eddielives1986 @bunnyweasley23 @thefailcollection @ppunkpuppyy @bestwifehaver @httpsphynx @irregular-child @skjachukson @deadfromtheneckdown

#flowers and ink #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #robin buckley #will byers #argyle #jonathan byers #bob newby #gareth #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #jargyle #writing #st fanfic #eddie munson x steve harrington

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lifespectator · 1 year

Text

Family Halloween

Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Summary: A Halloween special I did. I hope you guys enjoy it!

A/N: Thanks to my awesome friend @ironboybooks for giving me this idea. Make sure to check out 'ironboybooks' on Wattpad. He's a great writer and some of the best x Male Reader books.

3rd POV

After a long mission, Y/n finally arrived at the front of his home. It was the same ordeal. Some terrorist group tried to get hold of powerful weapons and The Avengers had to be there to stop them.

He had to admit Sam, as team leader, made the missions quite enjoyable.

Y/n started walking to the front door of his home while on the phone with Sam.

"Another successful mission, Cap" Y/n said, making his friend laugh. "I'm still not used to that name." Sam responded.

"You should. You earned it." It was true. If anyone deserved Steve's mantle, it was Sam.

"I'll try, brother. In the meantime, Uncle Sam has to take his two zombie nephews out for candy before they eat him." Both men laughed as they said their farewells. Y/n hasn't entirely connected the dots of what is special about today's date.

Once Y/n opened the door. He made sure to be as silent as possible. He didn't want to wake up his wife and kids. That was until he heard some noises in the kitchen.

Unbeknownst to him, Wanda was helping their sons, Tommy and Billy, with their costumes. Wanda was going to take them trick or treating.

As Y/n entered the kitchen, both kids got out of Wanda's grasp and ran up to him.

"I'm glad you're back!" Billy said. Y/n just laughed and hugged them both tightly. "Is their no kiss for your wife?" Wanda asked in fake sad tone while pouting.

Y/n just chuckled as he made his way to Wanda. "I was saving the best one for you." He leaned down and gave her a tenderly kiss. "I missed you." Wanda said.

"I also missed you." Y/n said as he noticed how his Wife was dressed. "What's the special ocassion?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Mom is going to take us out for candy! Tommy exclaimed. Y/n was still confused. "Today is Halloween, silly." Wanda said.

Y/n finally understood why Sam mentioned zombies and why the boys wore costumes at night. He had completely forgot today was the 31st.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Y/n eyed up Wanda. "I'm a vampire!" Wanda responded while doing a quick spin. 'A hot one.' Y/n thought.pp

"You should come with us dad." Billy said. "Yeah, that would be cool." Tommy supported the idea.

"I'd love to, but what would I wear?" Y/n asked. After taking off the combat suit he wore on the field, he just put on some jeans and a hoodie.

"Don't worry baby." Wanda continued. "I can fix that."

"Where did you get this cape?" Y/n asked. Wanda only smiled. "I bought it this morning while you were away. I wanted all us to have matching costumes." Wanda answered his question.

"I had lost hope that you would make it on time." Wanda said. Y/n only sighed. He's been thinking for some time now of leaving the team to focus full-time om his family.

Wanda put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it. It was her way of telling him to take his time before making a decision

"Mom, dad. Can Tommy and I go to the other houses?" Billly asked. "Yeah, you're taking forever." Tommy said.

Y/n only laughed. "Sure, just don't go too far." Wanda said. Y/n felt his heart warm seeing how a great mother Wanda is. He also get's to call her 'mommy'.

"Well, at least we have some alone time." Y/n told Wanda to which she giggled. "We can have some when we arrive home." Wanda responded with a wink.

"How was the mission?" Wanda asked. "It was ok. A granade exploded right before me, but I'm fine." Wanda got worried and eyed up Y/n to find any visible wounds. "I'm joking." Y/n said, and Wanda smacked his arm. "Ow." Y/n playfully whined. "Don't scare me like that." Y/n just giggled.

"Is this going to be your new look?" Y/n pointed out Wanda's short white hair. "No, only for today." She responded. "Is it a wig?" Y/n got confused when Wanda shook her head. "Magic Remember?"

"Magic or no magic, you're still special to me." Y/n said as he carresed Wanda's cheek.

"Hey love birds." A unknown voice said. Y/n and Wanda quickly looked to where the voice came from. "Let's make this quick. Hand me over whatever you guys have on you." The guy pulled out a knife.

Y/n quickly got into a fighting stance, analyzing the best way to take the guy down. Before he can do anything, the guy just fainted.

When Y/n tried to figure out what just had happened, he looked to his left to see his wife smirking and the noticible chaos magic on her right hand. A smirk also plastered across his face.

"What would I do without you?" Y/n asked. "Their are many answer to that question but I'm the one who is supposed to get you tired tonight." Wanda said biting her lip at the end.

"Let's go get the boys. It's late already." Y/n said, pulling Wanda's hand.

The family had finally made it back home. The kids had collected a lot of candy which they were eager to eat.

"Today was fun!" Tommy exclaimed, jumping up and down. "I'm really glad that we went as a family." Billy said.

Y/n watched the whole scene and was happy. He was planning to find a way to spend more time with his family.

"Alright, boys, go clean up and change into your pajamas." Wanda informed. "Oh, and no candy until tomorrow." Wanda said as the kid's booed and turned to their father to see if he would intervene. "You heard the queen." Was all he said as the boys went upstairs.

"How long do you plan on having the white hair?" Y/n asked. "I can't take it off now if you like." Wanda responded as she lifted her hand.

"Don't." Y/n said. "Maybe we can, um, roleplay?" Y/n suggested shyly, making Wanda laugh.

"Have it your way Mr. L/n." Wanda said in a seductive tone.

"Let's take it to our room Mrs. L/n." Y/n picked up his wife bridal style and started walking upstairs to their bedroom.

The boys already enjoyed halloween. Now it's their time to enjoy it.

#wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda maximov #wanda my beloved #wanda maximommy #wanda maximilf #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff x male reader #scarlet witch x male reader #wanda x male reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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rainystrangerthingsimagines · 2 years

Text

Healing Hands (Steve x reader)

Warnings: wounds, making out, sexual implications

You sat in the Byers' bathroom, cleaning up a gash from when those stupid demodogs tried to attack on the bus. You ended up falling and cutting your arm when you hit the ground on a piece of metal plating. You thanked your lucky stars that you had had your tetanus shots. Steve's jacket rested on the counter, after he gave it to you from when you were cold in the woods.

You winced, Steve walking by the door and noticed you. "Need some help?" Steve asked. "Please." you nodded. He walked in, picking up the antiseptic off the bathroom counter. There was a new tension in the air. See, Steve, at one point in the night, decided to offer himself up as bait, leaving you terrified that he might die. In a moment of thinking he might not make it, you kissed him. The two of you hadn't talked about it, however the air between the two of you was left with this odd feeling.

You winced as Steve began to clean the wound. "mother of god that HURTS!" You winced. "Uhhhh. Let's try to distract you, uhm-" "Ow" You whined. "I noticed a lot of science books in your room earlier, do you like science?" Steve asked. "Ye-yeah. I love- ow- astronomy." You muttered. "That's space, right?" Steve asked. "y-yeah." You nodded. "Nice nice." Steve nodded.

"Ow- Steve- Jesus that hurts!" You breathed. "Know any foreign languages?" He asked, hoping to distract you. "Just Latin and French-"you said, hissing through your teeth. "Still impressive, I don't speak either." Steve shrugged. "Steve I swear-" "Speak French." He said, still making attempts to distract you as he cleaned up the dirt. "vou le vou coucher avec moi." You said. "Neat, what did that mean?" Steve asked.

"Will you take me to bed with you." You answered making Steve laugh. You smiled at him, him focused on your wound as he applied the last bit of antiseptic. "We uhm- ow. We never discussed that thing on the bus." You said. He looked up. "No. We didn't." He agreed. "Did... did it uhm... upset you?" You asked. He put the cotton ball down. "No. It did not." Steve said. He heard that tone. He knew that tone well enough to know that, it meant you were feeling insecure. There was no way he was letting you get in your own head. "Cool-" he kissed you this time, you gripping the counter. His hands went to your back pockets, him pulling you closer as he shut the bathroom door. "Steve- what if something happens-" "one of the kids will get us" Steve assured before he kissed you again.

There it was, that electric feeling. Your body felt like it was being powered by the most powerful battery as he kissed your neck, lifting you onto the sink counter. "What happened to being a good babysitter?" You teased, out of breath. "That went out the window when you kissed me on that bus." He whispered in your ear before kissing you. Your hands flew to his cheeks, as the kisses intensified.

His lips moved to your neck, your eyes closing as your hand ran through his hair. "Steven" you breathed. He chuckled. "I never thought I'd be so into someone saying my whole name until this moment." Steve said. You smiled, wrapping your legs around his waist. You could feel him. And the little friend he seemed to develop. "Someone is happy to see me." You whispered. "I am a man, Y/n. And as you said, men are very simple creatures." He said making you grin. He kissed your neck again, sucking at that sweet spot to hear that noise again. "Steven" you moaned, him smiling as he heard it.

He pulled away, looking in your eyes. "What?" You asked. He moved strands of hair out of your face. "I know that we haven't discussed what this means. And I also know that you might-" "Steve, if it's not crystal clear that I like you by now, I don't know what to tell you." You laughed. He smiled. "Y/n, when all this shit is done, can I take you on a date?" He asked. You smiled. "Thought you'd never ask Harrington." You said softly. He smiled, kissing you again with his hands on your waist. "Now, we should get back out there." Steve said.

"But-" he looked at you, lifting your chin with his fingers. "I don't want our first time to be in a bathroom where you're trying to be quiet. I want to hear you say my name, baby." He said. Your face must've been bright red. "Steve-" a knock landed on the door and you both turned. "When you two are done fucking, I need help." Dustin said. "We're not fucking, Dustin." You sighed. "Yes, because most teenagers lock the bathroom door when they're dressing wounds." He said sarcastically. "We will be out in a minute, Henderson." Steve said. "Fine" he sighed.

You turned back to him. "See, that is also why we're not fucking in here." Steve said making you chuckle. "So this... the whole, making out thing is going to be a regular thing?" You asked. "God, I fucking hope so." He said making you chuckle. You kissed him again. You picked up the bandage and he took it, wrapping your arm. "Now, I'm warning you. I'm a jacket thief. You might not get that back." You warned, nodding to the jacket. He smiled. "You look cute in it anyway." He said. You decided to have a little fun. "Wait for the day where I only wear the jacket." You said, pulling the jacket back on. Steve's face turned pink at the thought, you giggling as you walked out.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things

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thornsnvultures · 2 years

Text

What's Mine is Yours

Robin Buckley x fem!reader

747 words, Robin needs to borrow a shirt after some jerk spills beer on her at one of Steve's parties.

cw: alcohol mention, taking off clothes (no smut, only horny)

18+, minors dni or you will be blocked

a/n: didn't get a chance to post this yesterday, but this is my day 1 submission for @flufftober 2022l. this is also my first time writing for Robin so be gentle pls

divider by @firefly-graphics

"This is why I don't come to Steve's stupid parties," Robin whined as she tried to blot out the stink of stale beer from her shirt. It obviously wasn't working, the drunk idiot who "accidentally" splashed her got her good.

"Stop, stop! You're gonna tear a hole through your shirt at this rate!" You grab her hand holding the copious amount of paper towels, laughing at her adorable frustration. "C'mon, I think I have a shirt in my car you can borrow."

You drag Robin through the rowdy crowd, oblivious to the way she stares at the back of your head as you go. Her cheeks turn pink at the tight feeling of your hand around hers and she stumbles when she looks down at where the two of you connect. She bumps into your back and stutters out an apology.

"Watch where you're going, pretty girl," you chuckle as you turn around to look over your shoulder, make sure she's okay. "We don't need you adding blood stains to your shirt too. They're a bitch to get out."

You make it out to your car, sucking in the cool night air. Sweet relief from the suffocating heat from the mass of bodies inside. It takes a second to dig around the back of your car but finally you find it, insisting it's clean as you hand it to Robin.

You look at her expectantly.

"Could you, uh...," she makes a twirling motion with her finger, shyly asking you to turn around.

"Oh! Of course, sorry."

You face the house, scanning the area for any possible pervs in the area who may be trying to sneak a peek.

Though as you listen to the rustling of Robin's denim jacket behind you, you feel like the creep. Biting your lip, you try to think of anything but turning around and looking, seeing what you've been dying to see since Steve introduced you to Robin months ago.

She was seeing someone else then, someone who wound up not working out. But the window for the two of you to get together had seemingly been missed. You'd become close friends, let her cry on your shoulder when they broke up, but never moved past that. You were afraid to lose your friend if the two of you wound up not working out either. That didn't mean you didn't stop wanting her, especially now when you could hear her drop her damp tshirt on the ground. It landed with a slightly wet plop and your breath caught in your throat.

"Oh my god."

Without thinking your head whipped around, worried that something was wrong. Instead you saw Robin standing there in her bra, holding up the shirt you gave her and staring at the images on the front. Two adorable, round, cartoon bees dressed in ghost costumes stared back at you as you started to laugh before both of you quickly remembered Robin still wasn't wearing a shirt. She squeaked in surprised and your face felt hot as you spun back around.

"Y/N are those what I think they are?"

"Oh my god, don't. I totally forgot I bought that shirt! That's why it was buried in my car."

Robin laughed as she tugged on you hand to turn you back around.

"I can't go back in there with boo-bees on my shirt!"

She was trying to play at being upset but neither of you could hold back your peeling laughter at the lame joke. Robin was laughing so hard she tumbled forward, holding your arms for support.

"I can't breathe," you wheezed. "You're right, you can't go back in there. Steve will never let you live it down. C'mon, get in. You want me to drop you off at home or...," you trailed off, your eyes searching her smiling face. You didn't want to leave her but you would if she asked.

"No. Take me to yours. I need to check your closet for more dorky shirts."

You bit your lip, holding back a dorky grin as she walked around to the passenger side. She opened the door and went to get inside but stopped halfway, looking over at you from over the roof.

"If I see anything I like, maybe I'll let you see my boo-bees."

You stood there, mouth agape as she laughed again and got in, calling for you to hurry up.

You never got in your car and drove home so fast in your life.

#flufftober2022 #day 1 #stranger things #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x best friend!reader #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley one shot #robin buckley drabble #robin buckley headcannon #tw alcohol mention #audtober

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toomanybandstocare · 2 years

Text

{Bad Food Day}

Program: Sometimes your brain makes day to day life more difficult than it needs to be. Steve is more than willing to slow down when your head is in a haze and lend you a helping hand. So if you need a hug, words of encouragement, or someone to remind you that you are deserving of a meal, Steve has you covered.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x GN! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Headcannon

Warnings: Struggle with food, Pet name (love, darling), Loving threat, Mention of therapy and med help (not detailed), Not proofed

Camp Upside Down Masterlist

Counselor Note: I had a rough food day, and I feel like Steve would know what to do without me asking.

there are just days where your brain doesn't coordinate with your body, making it all the more strenuous. some days, intrusive thoughts convince you that you don't deserve a basic necessity. other days, food just doesn't sound appealing.

days like these just feel like walking through fog. you can vaguely get through it but there's a thick feeling lingering on you.

days like these, you hope align with a day off from work, so you can just focus on taking care of yourself.

regardless of the day's severity, you don't have to rely on just yourself anymore.

steve harrington supports your dreams and life achievements every art show, battle of the bands, sporting event, or debate competition. but he also reminds you of your worth and value when your brain clouds your reality.

when you first start dating, steve has an odd feeling to date nights.

don't get him wrong. steve is ecstatic you agreed to go out with him. but every time he calls to plan your next date, something stung the back of his mind after every phonecall.

it seemed like you were holding back your thoughts about date night choices and restaurant picks.

so on your fourth date, steve sets his mind on clearing the air of any concerns. he is so enamored by you, that he does not want to screw anything up and make you uncomfortable. so time to communicate.

after getting coffee at your favorite spot, steve takes you on a drive to enjoy the cool autumn day at the flower meadow. a flannel blanket covers the ground as the two of you lounge and chat. just enjoying the day with each other's company.

slight nerves make his voices soft, "so i wanted to ask you something. promise it's nothing bad, alright? i'm very happy with you and excited to be with you." steve reassures your slightly panicked expression. so when you slowly nod your head, eyebrows creased, he continues "i have loved each of our dates. i love spending time with you, but i wanted to check in with how you feel. whenever we call to plan our next date, it feels like you're not saying something, or the complete truth."

steve's wide brown eyes look at you in concern as you fiddle with your paper cup, but he waits patiently for your response. "i, uh, don't really feel comfortable sharing the whole story, but i struggle with food. like it just makes me anxious some days and especially when i go out to eat with people i don't really know," you peer over at him. the sight of steve's slightly wounded broken expression rushes you to continue, "i have so enjoyed each of our dates. it's nothing to do with you, steve. i promise. food is just complicated for me, so meals and snacks can be difficult for me."

steve takes your words to heart and looks at you in complete thought. he puts his cups on the ground and carefully pulls you into his arms and rubs your back. his voice very tender, "thank you for sharing even that much with me. please, let me know if i can help. but for the mean time, let's come up with new places to go out on dates. hm? how about the museum next?"

he doesn't quite understand just how much his understanding, even without the full details, means to you. steve doesn't quite understand what you're going through, but he's determined to love you every way you deserve.

through the course of your relationship, steve begins to be able to tune into your needs and can pick up when bad food days happen.

at first, steve doesn't know how to support you. so he watches how you handle the day and what you communicate you need.

steve keeps a small notebook on hand to write down foods he sees you not hesitate around on these days.

so he keeps a cabinet in his kitchen and a small bag in his trunk filled with your safety foods.

eventually he begins to coax and remind you eat meals or drink water through these days. but not overtly. "hey, i made a lil bowl of fruit. would you like some?" brings you a glass of water as well when he gets up to grab one for himself. "i made us buttered toast for breakfast, love. could you grab some glasses while i plate up?"

as your relationship progresses and you trust him more, you may share if anything caused you to feel this way, but if you don't steve respects that. he doesn't pry because he can't imagine how hard it is to manuever life with this.

later on though, oh my god. steve is fully capable of lovingly threaten you into eating if that's what it takes. "you're hurting the love of my life." "if you do not eat something with me, i will take away that book you're reading."

because from his time watching how you act on these days, steve is aware of how you distract yourself from eating.

he also treats you with the utmost care on these days. soft words. gentle touches. he just knows what you need.

puts his hand on your waist when you just stand in the kitchen with a confused look on your face. "what're the thoughts for today, darling" "not too sure. banana comes to mind" "how about we make banana bread?" "can i just watch?" "anything you want"

if you end up deciding therapy or medical help is the best course of support for you, steve will not hesitate to bring a book and snack pack for himself as he waits in the parking lot after driving you. "how was it? not too scary?" "i don't know if this doc is the right on for me" "how about we go to the front desk and see if there are other's accepting patients. in the mean time, keep your appointment in case you can't switch right away, alright?"

end of the day, steve knows just what you need to help you get through this and is willing to help you any way he can.

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rainchyna · 1 year

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𓆩♡𓆪 episode six: IT BEGINS.

HEHE this episode is a major L ngl but look i had to add hunter one way or another he’s so fucking hot oh my god yo smut warning btw LMAO ,, anyways, the y/n fanboy club will only expand from here so get ready yall all the boys and girls wanna kiss y/n

10:31 am, at the hotel.

it was in the air.

what was ‘it’?

chaos.

chaos was in the air.

ever since your promo with The Undertaker last week, it felt like you were sitting on a volcano waiting to erupt.

you were put in several storyline that got cancelled, had three separate gimmick changes pitched, two underdeveloped love angles, twelve - you counted - times you almost turned heel, and you almost got yourself and Shawn suspended for a fight you had backstage.

fun, exciting even, to say the least.

Lita almost got dropped off of Taker’s team because of an injury she got during a house show, Owen had twisted his ankle, and Steve and Bret were now in a feud within the Taker-Y/n angle and Sherri and Luna seemed to be wrestling each other in every house show.

Vince was clearly beginning to lose his sanity bit by bit everyday and it was showing. he fired and rehired six wrestlers and twenty staff members in the same hour, almost completely cancelled you and Taker’s feud and allegedly - has been in talks with some ex WCW guys to sign in them with the WWF, since WCW seemed to be stealing all the top stars he had.

one of the WCW guys that came was Hunter Hearst Helmsley. you’ve always seen him around, but nothing ever stuck. he’s pretty cool, sweet guy, very much talented. you two only began building a friendship after his debut, he was the new comer who was trying to make his way through the company.

several people advised him to get to know you if he wanted to get to the top, after all no one knows how to jump to the top of the mountain like you do. but also, he was advised to befriend Shawn as well.

swell.

poor Hunter, he quickly found himself being the middleman in you and Shawn’s bullshit. he wound up quickly befriending Chyna as well since she was the middleman in your shit as well.

fuck it. new friend group, why not? maybe being friends with Shawn will shut him up.

“’fuck are you looking at?” Shawn asks.

or not.

“did I say a fucking a thing?” you ask.

Chyna groans putting her fork down, “here we go again..” Hunter mutters. all four of you were trying to have breakfast as a friends, a way to get to know Hunter better and to make him feel welcomed. but god forbid Shawn lets you exist in peace.

“quit staring at me” Shawn huffs and you raise your eyebrows, “that’s rich coming from the guy who calls me pretty all the time” you cross your arms. “so what? do you not like compliments?” he asks. “don’t you?” you counter.

“what does that have to do with anything?” he asks, “what if i’m looking at you trying to compliment you?” you snicker.

“then compliment me.” he crosses his arms.

“trash bag hoe.” you smile.

“one meal. can we have one meal in peace?” Chyna says through gritted teeth. “how are you guys always fighting?” Hunter asks.

sweet, innocent, baby Hunter. hasn’t seen a thing yet.

Chyna chuckles, “should’ve seen them when they first met”.

“anyways” you look Shawn up and down before diverting your attention to Hunter, “nitro boy!” you run your hand up his muscular bicep, “what do you bring to the company?”

“well, youth hopefully? a bit sick of Hogan, Warrior and the rest” Hunter answers. “tell me about it” Shawn mutters.

“you’re pretty good, I’ve seen some of your matches” Chyna comments, “thank you!” Hunter smiles.

Hunter was Vince’s ideal type of male wrestler. 6 foot 3 inches tall, muscular as fuck, blond, beautiful and coquettish, hm…

you couldn’t deny, the man was attractive. very attractive.

Hunter on the other hand, was unintentionally giving you the eyes, unintentionally! he didn’t mean to, but you yourself were … oh god, you were something.

you weren’t exactly paying attention to what he was saying, nor were Chyna and Shawn. Chyna was more focused on eating her breakfast that you and Shawn’s bickering stopped her from, and Shawn… well. He was more focused on the look Hunter was giving you.

Shawn has made it very clear, several times, that he wants you - or to at least sleep with you - but here you were giving his friend all your attention. he’s known you for longer! and he’s hotter! what makes Hunter better than him?

the look on Shawn’s face was unmatched. he was jealous and he couldn’t hide it, at all.

“y’all wanna go out later?” Chyna asked without a mouthful, “yeah, why not.” Shawn said forcing a smile. “there’s a club down the block if y’all wanna head there” you suggest. “yeah, that’s sounds nice” Hunter smiles. “I’ll call Scott and Kev, they’ll really like you, Hunt.” Shawn says.

“Chy, you wanna workout?” Shawn asks, and the dark haired girl looks at him like he just asked the impossible. “I can never understand how you eat a big meal then immediately got to the gym. bro, I’m ready to take a nap” Chyna leans back in her seat. “i’ll walk with you there though” she adds.

“y’all coming?” Shawn asks as he and Chyna get up. Hunter shakes his head, “I think we’ll stay here a bit longer..” Hunter looks at you, hand hovering over yours. Chyna gives you a knowing smirk while Shawn clenches his jaw.

alright then.

4:44 pm, the girls’ room.

“where have you been?” Lita asked, you close the door behind you and walk into the flat. “breakfast down in the hotel restaurant” you answer. you sit on the couch opposite the t.v. “why are you laying in the floor?” you ask.

she shrugs, “I don’t know, it’s kinda comfortable” she replied. “but your ankle..?” you begin, “it’s fine, don’t worry about it” Lita waved. “wait…” she sits up. you look at her.

“it’s almost five right now, what are you doing at ‘breakfast’ this late?” Lita asked.

“what do you mean?” you ask.

“dude, they stop serving breakfast at eleven” she explained, “and I know damn well you weren’t down there with Shawn”.

you bite back a smile and Lita instantly gets it.

“oh my god” her eyes lit up, “oh my god it’s Hunter isn’t it” she laughs, “maybe..” you mumble. if Lita could jump and do a backflip she would, she knew it. she’s seen the way Hunter interacts with you, she just knew he had a thing for you.

“what did I say!?” she laughs, you roll your eyes as a small smile forms on your lips. “yeah, yeah, you told me, whatever” you say.

“what’s going on?”, you look towards the room behind you, Chyna was shuffling her way out, rubbing her eyes. “you actually slept?” you ask. she yawns, stretching her arms before flopping besides Lita on the floor. “man, I could barely open my eyes” she groggily says. “what are y’all talking about?” she asks.

“Hunter has a crush on y/n!” Lita excitedly answers, “hey! no he doesn’t!” you say. Chyna chuckles, “pfft, he totally does” she says nudging Lita’s shoulder. “you should’ve seen the way they were looking at each other breakfast” Chyna adds.

“okay but have you seen the guy? he’s so hot” you say, both girls smirk at you and you roll your eyes again. you groan with a smile, “ugh, we’re going out later, i’m taking my chances to be honest” you say.

“damn y’all leaving me here?” Lita sarcastically remarked, “oh I’ll carry you on my back if you want, baby” Chyna laughs, “for real though, you need to have him wrapped around your finger” Lita says. “maybe Shawn will leave you alone” she adds.

you hum, “I mean, his friend likes you, I think that should be enough for him to leave you alone” Chyna explains.

Shawn Michaels? leaving you alone? and you get to have a fine man around your finger?

“sign me up honestly”

“i’m hungry” Lita groaned, “me too” you agree. Chyna stands up and stretches again, “weren’t you in the hotel restaurant just now?” she ask, you nod. “they stopped serving, me and Hunter were just talking” you answer.

“they should be serving lunch by now though” Lita picked up a menu that was sitting by the t.v and examined it. “sushi! what do we think?” she asked.

<<5:20 pm>>

“I underestimated how much there will be” Lita said. there was an entire wooden boat that was at least a metre long filled with sushi placed on the kitchen isle. “what did you expect? the menu said ‘sushi boat’” Chyna said sitting on a stool. “we’ll I didn’t expect this much!” Lita said handing you and Chyna chopsticks.

“let me tell y’all about this shit I heard the other” Lita says as you begin to eat. you sat next to Chyna and looked at Lita. “the other day, me and Owen were talking shit about people” she begins.

“per usual” Chyna laughs, “and apparently the Shawn-Sunny thing is picking up again” she says “HM?” you hum with a mouthful and Chyna’s eyes widen. “I know!” she laughs.

“again?” Chyna asks, “we doin this shit again?” she sounds unimpressed. “the locker room is already in shambles, we don’t need this” you say cocking you head. “I know! and also-”

“oh my god, there’s more!?” Chyna asks, “baby that’s your friend” Lita points at her, “he’s the messy one here” she adds. “also, allegedly, allegedly, Shawn is only doing this because a certain someone keeps rejecting him and he wanted to make her jealous” she explains.

both girls look at you and your head falls to your palm, “he deadass needs to give up, like seriously” you sigh. “asking Shawn to stop being a man whore is like asking the earth to stop spinning, trust me I’ve seen some shit” Chyna says.

“what is it with Sunny too? isn’t she and Candido married?” you ask. “mhm” Lita hums again, “she’s a messy bitch and honestly, bring the drama, Vince needs some controversy right now” you say. “not that type of drama though, what the hell” Chyna says.

you three continue gossiping about things you’ve seen and heard this week but the conversation somehow rolled back to you and Hunter.

“I’m considering seriously having him, or at least having him on the side” you say, “I feel like that’ll cause drama too” Chyna says, “how?” you ask.

“well, you know, Shawn isn’t the only one who kinda really really wants you in the locker room…” she said.

“oou, who else?” Lita excitedly asks, “have y’all seen that guy.. uhm.. Rocky! that one!” Chyna says, “Rocky Maiavia or something like at”

you frown a bit, you’ve heard that name backstage, but you couldn’t remember what he looked like.

“there’s also Al Snow, apparently when you first came he couldn’t stop talking about how hot you were and him and Bret almost go into it” Lita comments. “why am I the last person to find out?” your frown gets deeper, “I though that was common knowledge?” Lita questions.

“babe, there’s so many more. Billy Gun, Matt and Jeff, Brain Pillman…”

as the names kept piling up, you immediately noticed that these were people Shawn got into fights with frequently. it has to be because they liked you. it has to be.

when is it going to click that he’s never making it to the final cut?

9:39 pm, the girls’ room.

you woke up disoriented. you didn’t recall going into a room nor falling asleep. you moved your leg and it hit something stiff, you sit up and look around you. the clock opposite the bed was barely visible. you look at what your leg hit, Chyna’s hip.

you look back at the clock, one hand pointed to the nine and the other to the forty minute mark.

damn it’s nine p.m?

you scratch your shoulder and look over to the other bed, Lita was also laying motionless. you cartoonishly smack your lips and rub your eyes, it took a couple minutes for you open them fully and only then did it click to you.

damn it’s nine p.m!

“oh my fucking god” you muttered.

you’re supposed to go out with Hunter! and Chyna and Shawn too.. but here you both were.

you pat on Chyna’s shoulder, then you begin patting aggressively, now you were violently shaking her. she groaned and sat up.

“what are you doing?” she groggily asks, you quickly cover her mouth and point to Lita who was still asleep.

you both tiptoe outside into the living room, “when did we fall asleep?” Chyna asks flopping onto the couch, you quickly grab her arm and pull her away from the couch. “I don’t remember either, but c’mon, we’re going out with Hunter! … and Shawn! him too..” you squeal.

“uuuggghhh” Chyna slowly falls to the ground, “I’m so tttiiirrreeeddd” she whines, “but I wanna get dddrrruuunnnkkk” she whines again making you laugh.

both of you make your way to the other bedroom and quickly shower as Chyna picks out outfits for both of you.

it wasn’t long before you were drying up and slipping into your outfit, and you must admit. Chyna has an incredible sense of fashion.

your corset top pushed up your breasts and it wouldn’t be that hard for anyone to see your cleavage, you mini skirt was as mini as ever. a mini skirt should be the size of a belt, and that wasn’t exactly how short it was but it was quite short. your heels made your legs look longer and pulled your outfit together.

you looked good, per usual.

you applied your makeup and quickly curled two piece of your hair at the front to frame your face, you put on your earrings and grabbed your red bag, “you ready?” Chyna asks and she fixes her hair, “yup!” you nod.

<<10:43>>

the place was obviously noisy, after all people come here to get drunk. Hunter wasn’t letting you go at all, from the moment you walked in his arms clung to your hips, and compliments seemed to naturally leave his mouth.

Scott and Kevin kept complimenting you too, you were really fucking hot. exactly how Shawn described you to them over the phone, the saw exactly why Shawn wanted you so badly.

something about you was so alluring, you had this attractiveness to you, they were attracted to you. they couldn’t tell if it was your eyes … or lips… whatever it is! Hunter’s hands on you sent a clear message to them, especially to Shawn. Shawn was chatting up some random girl he just happened to see, he wasn’t even pretending to care about what she was saying.

he was staring looking at you, sitting comfortably on Hunter’s lap, giggling and smiling against his chest. he can feel this heavy feeling of … something … he wouldn’t call it jealousy, it was straight up envy.

why him? why Hunter? Shawn wanted you, but you were giving Hunter what he wanted.

you really liked Hunter. he was so sickeningly sweet, very gentlemanly, the compliments never seemed to stop. he was spoiling you a lot too, he brought with him a little Tiffany and Co bag, gifting you a gorgeous necklace. he filled your cups, drink after drink, from the most expensive ones with names that were hard to pronounce to the ones that tasted like a broke student’s frat party.

his lips would’ve dripped of honey with how much sweet words were coming out them.

he pulled you closer to him, his hands kept rubbing over your thighs, and hovering over your neck and waist. the place was dark so no one could see what he was doing, unless they were focused on you which would be weird, but for the most part, his touches went unseen.

“your skirt is really short, angel” he spoke into your ear, something about that sent to you into a fight or flight mode. Scott and Kevin were arguing loudly over and game of cards, you look over at the bar and Shawn was ordering a drink for himself and Chyna who was now sitting in the girls’ place.

“mhm” you hummed, Hunter’s large hand slowly slid up your skirt. “wanna go somewhere private?” he asked, you look around you one more time, no one gives a fuck. so why would you?

you straddle him, turning to face him. wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss him deeply, his arms pull on your waist bringing you closer to him. you unconsciously grind on his thigh. “I’ll take that as a yes” he breathlessly says, the ‘innocent’ kissing goes on for a while before you’re interrupted by Kevin announcing that he’ll go get more drinks.

Hunter pulls you off of him as he stands up, taking your hand in his. he dragged you to the darkest corner of the club, you could see everyone from this angle but no one can see you.

Hunter’s leg pushes yours open you continue making out again. his hands guided your hips to grinding on his thigh, his hand slipped up your skirt again but this time he gripped on your panties. he can easily rip them off, so he did.

“Hunter..” you whimper, your pussy felt uncomfortably hot. the rough fabric of his jeans pushing and pulling against your clit. “you got it baby, c’mon” he encouraged directly in your ear, “so pretty for me”.

you wanted to fuck him, for more than one reason. one them being that your could tell by his voice that he was one to whimper, probably verbally vocal too.

Hunter could feel a wet patch form over his pants, it was such a turn on for him. “you know” he began, ever since your debut match, I kinda developed a crush on you” he confessed, “the way you were so effortlessly throwing Alundra around made me wanna .. uhm h-have you..” he trailed off.

you pull his hand down to your waist again, your other hand climbing up to his cheek gently caressing it. “have me what, Hunter?” you ask. Hunter gulps, nervously he leans is a kisses you again. you push him away from you and push him back against the wall your were once at. his hands immediately fly back to your waist, “answer me” you say.

“I want to you fuck me” he breaths out, “I want you control me and throw me around too, I wanna be yours to play with” he confesses again. you smirk, well this should be fun.

“oh yeah?” you ask, he nods. you look up at him, he’s so pretty. “how bad do you want me?” you ask, Hunter grabs your hand and places it right in front of his clothed boner, you could’ve sworn you felt it throb and twitch at your touch.

“really, really bad” Hunter whimpered.

bingo! you knew he was the type to whimper.

the only time you stop by the little booth you were sat in was to grab your bag, Hunter was eagerly pulling you away from everyone. he was really horny, almost unbearably, and you’ve barely done anything. his mind ran wild with ideas of what you’ll do to him.

Shawn’s eyes found you once more, he watched closely as you and Hunter held hands and walked out of the club, both of you smiling.

he looked down at his drink, wondering what was he doing wrong. “you okay?” Chyna asks, yet Shawn, never answered.

#rainchyna #sour grapes #rainchyna’s sour grapes #wwe x reader #wwe headcanons #wwe fics #wwe fanfic #wwf fanfic #wwf x reader #wwf headcanons #wwe shawn michaels x reader #shawn michaels x reader

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satelliteddie · 2 years

Text

as it was - s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: while looking through your old yearbooks you and steve reminisce on the times before monsters when your biggest problems were your high school crushes

content warnings: none — this flashes back and forth a little bit, but in the flashbacks we see some of the kiddos <3

word count: 3.2k

author’s notes: I also was gonna write this a bit sadder and about Steve’s parents, but I’m already gonna do that for matilda (it’s Steve’s song, argue with the WALL) so here’s some happy-lovey Steve instead :)

Holdin' me back

Gravity's holdin' me back

I want you to hold out the palm of your hand

Why don't we leave it at that?

Nothin' to say

When everything gets in the way

Seems you cannot be replaced

And I'm the one who will stay

Your fingers run over the edges of the Hawkins High 1985 yearbook, flipping the book open as you search for your photo. Finding yourself amongst all your classmates, you smile at the naive girl in the senior photo. She was absolutely clueless. You laugh to yourself comparing the photo to your reflection now in the mirror. Sitting on your bed, you tilt your head, squishing your cheeks and glancing up and down at the yearbook. Who even was that? You logically know you have not changed much, but the last two years have affected you and your friends more than you let on. Whether it’s the small scars on your arms, bat bites on Steve’s ribs, broken noses, busted eardrums, or all of the mental wounds, you all have gone through traumas most people just don’t understand. In high school you barely talked to Steve or Nancy, they were way too cool to be associated with you; you only began to make slight conversation with them when your neighbor, Mrs. Henderson begged you to watch Dustin when she was away. Steve would always show up looking for Dustin claiming it was super important. You were almost always positive it was a lie, but Dustin insisted on coming home on time so you let him go. One time turned into two, which turned into four, which led to ten. Eventually you found yourself making small talk with Steve, cracking away at his King of Hawkins exterior. He seemed introverted during most of your conversations, which you tried not to take offense to. Curiosity got the better of you during one of these “super important” hangouts and you followed Dustin and Steve to the edges of a junkyard. You simply couldn’t believe your eyes as you watched Steve fight off these slimy creatures with a nail-studded baseball bat. Steve still gives you a hard time for following them and will never let you forget that you, quote: “could have died” if Steve wasn’t there. From then on you were an honorary member of their Party and were informed of all things supernatural. On days like today, looking back at your high school years you can’t help but think about what your lives would have been like had you not decided to help out Mrs. Henderson, or if Steve and Dustin were better liars.

“What are you thinking about, pretty?” Steve asks from your bedroom doorway. He kicks off his shoes and plops down next to you, his head resting on his hand. “Old yearbooks?”

“Yeah, I-” you frown down at your photo, unsure where to begin. “I was just thinking about how we met.”

“Ah yes,” Steve opens a can of pringles and pops one into his mouth. “That romantic story. We’ll have to come up with something better to tell the grandkids.” He sarcastically rolls his eyes while talking with his mouth full. It took a while for you and Steve to become civil, let alone admit you two had feelings for one another. However, thanks to one too many drinks at Eddie’s trailer and Robin’s lack of filter, she called out the two of you and your tension. Your eyes are still fixed on the yearbook in your lap, you turn the pages over until you find the H-section and zero in on Steve Harrington. Steve sits up straighter in your bed, bringing his legs up next to yours. “There’s the handsome devil,” he grins at his own photo.

“Do you ever miss when you were a completely clueless douchebag?” You ask with a devilish grin.

“Such a charmer, my girl. You know that?” Steve lets his face fall with a laugh, “most girlfriends compliment their boyfriends, not mine.” He plants a kiss on your jaw.

“No, no,” you say in between giggles. “I just meant, do you miss the old us? You were King Douche and I was a naive nerd. We had no idea all of this existed. It was just, I don’t know,” you play with your hands. “I don’t know, easier?”

“Honestly,” Steve falters. “I’m not sure. Do I wish I was back before the times of alternate universes, disgusting monsters and everything else that’s constantly trying to kill us? Yeah, sure.” He runs his fingers through the ends of your hair. “Do I wish I was back before we were together? God no.”

In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

As it was, as it was

You know it's not the same

✩✩ 2 years ago ✩✩

The doorbell rings frantacticly throughout your house, as you reluctantly stand from the couch. “Jesus, I’m coming.” You pause your movie, placing the popcorn down and move to open the front door. You are convinced your eyes are deceiving you as the King of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington stands on your doorstep; he has his back to you as he leans against the doorframe, staring out into the street. You know it’s him purely based on the hair. “Sorry, can I help you?” You tilt your head trying to get a better look at him.

“Hi,” Steve spins around to face you. A cocky grin pulls at his mouth as he continues to lean on the door. Is he always leaning on something? “Is, huh Henderson here?”

“Considering this is my house? No. He told me he was with you,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“Little shit!” Steve kicks his feet out and starts pacing your front steps. “Okay so if he’s not home, not here–”

“Look Steve, I don’t know why he lied, but Dustin’s a smart kid, I’m sure he’s fine.” You try to break the ice with him. You knew Dustin stuck out when you watched him on random nights that Mrs. Henderson needed a babysitter, but he wasn’t a kid anymore. Dustin always came back in one piece, usually with Steve in tow and you never mentioned it to his mom. He was a teenager for Christ’s Sake. He could be doing a lot worse than hanging out with his friends outside his own house. Which is why Dustin practically begged you to be his “official babysitter” when his Mom insisted he get one. However, today you had only seen him briefly when he ran like a maniac through your house, grabbing snacks on his way out.

“No, you don’t understand. Y'know what, never mind.” Steve stammers. “Thanks for your time,” Steve trails off, seeming to forget your name.

“Y/N,” you offer with a smile. Steve returns it with a quick nod before turning to go down the steps. Your mind starts to race thinking about where Dustin could have gone. “Wait, Steve!” Steve turns to you, waiting on your every word. “If he lied to both of us, he’s doing something we both wouldn’t want him to do.”

Steve nods, “So what would that be?”

“Did you check the Wheeler’s?”

Steve almost looks ashamed as he shakes his head, turning quickly on his heels towards his car. You call out for him to wait again as you run back inside, grabbing your house keys and shoes. Running across the lawn you meet Steve at his car and pile inside without any more conversation. Steve pulls away from your house with his knuckles growing white on the steering wheel.

“Steve,” you whisper. “I’m sure he’s fine. He’s just a kid.” For some reason your attempt at calming him only seems to make things worse for Steve. His grip on the wheel grows even tighter as he flies down the suburban streets.

“He is just a kid,” he growls. “A kid that you were supposed to watch.”

“Sorry? Did I ask for babysitting advice from you?” You wait for a response, but nothing follows. “Right, that’s what I thought.” Silence grows in the air between the two of you, the tension building with it. Moments pass by as Steve continues to drive, his eyes fixed on the road directly ahead. “For the record,” your words cut through the quiet. “I only let him go because he told me he was with you. He always comes home safe after he’s with you. Even though this is the first time we’ve,” you hesitate as you try to find your words. “Hang out, I still trust you because Dustin does.”

“I’m sorry I was such a douche,” Steve swallows hard like he can’t believe his own words. “I know you trust him and care for him. Which is why I trust you, too,”

“Sorry, could you say that again?” You joke while cutting him off. Steve groans your name, but continues:

“I just love that little shit and I would banish myself for all eternity if something happened to him. So I just get defensive, but I’m sorry.”

“I get it, he’s Dustin…if he got hurt, I’d banish myself for all of eternity, too.” This earns a smile from Steve as he reaches to the center console to turn up the radio.

Answer the phone

"[Steve], you're no good alone

Why are you sittin' at home on the floor?

What kind of pills are you on?"

Ringin' the bell

And nobody's comin' to help

Your daddy’s lives by himself

He just wants to know that you're well, oh

Steve’s car pulls into the Wheeler’s driveway in record time; Steve is halfway across the lawn before you even open the car door. You catch up to him as he rapidly knocks on the back door that leads to the basement. “Steve, Christ does the door owe you money?” He rolls his eyes at you and continues to pound his fist against the wooden door. “Steve,” you try to tug at his sleeve. Steve shrugs you off, but you keep talking to him anyways. “They're not here, look. There’s no bikes.” You wave your arms around the yard. Steve sighs in defeat, “Fine. Where else?”

“So now you wanna talk to me?” You cross your arms, “how about the school? Doesn’t he have that AC Club or whatever?”

“A.V.— but yeah, yeah that could work.” He runs a frantic hand through his hair. “C’mon.” Steve crosses the grass again and you follow closely behind. The silence and tension grows again in the car as Steve drives to Hawkins High.

“So how are you and Nancy?”

“We broke up,” Steve bluntly responds.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I’ll stop talking, I clearly can’t get it right with you,” you laugh out of embarrassment. Resting your head back on the seat, you stare out the window watching the houses pass by.

“It’s okay,” Steve breaks the silence. “It was all bullshit anyways.” He says as if it has double meaning, but you don’t push him.

“Well either way I’m sorry,” you offer a soft smile. “Nancy didn’t know what she had.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asks in a laugh.

Mortified, you cover your face in your hands, “I don’t know? Isn’t that what people say?”

Steve continues to laugh, but cuts you a break by changing subjects: “so what’s it like to babysit Henderson?”

“Like you don’t know! He’s practically attached to you,” you smirk at him and Steve tries to pretend it doesn’t make his heart swell.

“Yeah well,” Steve’s hazel eyes come off the road, just for a second to meet yours. “At least you get paid.”

“That is true, maybe I should split my check with you,” you offer.

“Yeah!” Steve sarcastically smacks the steering wheel, “you should!”

You shrug as you look at him, “maybe someday.”

The rest of the ride to the high school is filled with small talk about Steve’s old friend group and how different your friend group was. You could have sworn Steve had no clue who you were, yet he seemed to remember friend’s names and even some of the classes you took. Eventually, Steve turns into the empty high school parking lot as you spot several discarded bikes on the grass. “They’re here! See I told you there was nothing to worry about,” you smack Steve’s shoulder. “Now let’s go.”

“No, no,” Steve parks the car and immediately hops out. “We have to go check. He unlocks his trunk and pulls out a baseball bat covered in nails. Nails. You look at him in complete bewilderment, “Steve, what the hell is that?”

“A weapon,” he responds, not even giving you a second more before heading towards the school.

“This is ridiculous, you can’t go into a school with that.” You emphasize. Steve completely ignores you and opens the main doors, strolling through the hallways like he owns them. You know you’re definitely missing a piece of this puzzle, but continue to follow closely behind Steve. Why does he have this bat at the ready? Does he always have that? Why does he think he’ll need it to help Dustin? Your mind races as you watch Steve inspect several classrooms before laughter bellows through the hallways. “This way,” Steve whispers and continues towards the noise. You keep your eyes fixed on Steve as he walks down the hallway practically hunched over with his bat gripped in his hands. You want to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but his seriousness also scares you. Finally turning down one last hall, Dustin’s laughter echoes throughout the empty school. Steve turns to you with an eyebrow raised as he approaches the door. The two of you stand side by side as you peer into the classroom. Inside sits Will, Lucas, Dustin, Mike and some red-haired girl you’ve never seen before. The three of them are staring into what looks like a prop from Ghostbusters.

“See, they’re fine,” you whisper to Steve. He immediately throws up a finger to his mouth and shushes you. He continues to carefully watch the group from the window before shaking his head and suppressing a laugh. Steve stands up from his crouching position and moves quickly down the hall. Your eyes are still fixed on the kids inside the classroom when Steve pulls your wrist and forces you away. “You wanted to see him so bad, why don’t you go check on him?”

“I just needed to make sure he was alive, alright? Let’s go,” his grip still remains on your hand, but you let him hold it until you're back at the car. You prop open the passenger door at the same time Steve does on his side.

“Are you ever going to tell me why you were so worried?” You ask over the top of his car. Steve rests his arm on the top of the door and shrugs, “maybe someday.”

✩✩✩✩

In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

In this world, it's just us

You know it's not the same as it was

As it was, as it was

You know it's not the same

“You definitely hated me back then,” you sigh as you trace your fingers over Steve’s yearbook photo.

“I never hated you. Ever.” Steve emphasized with a kiss on your shoulder. You turn to look at him as he takes the yearbook from your hands. He takes one look at his old-self before tossing it onto the floor next to him.

“Fine,” you smirk. “But you definitely thought I was annoying.”

“Oh, yeah one-hundred percent.” Steve smiles back while leaning in to kiss you. His lips press against yours, his hands moving into your hair. Steve hums against your mouth as he leans both of you back onto your bed. “So. Annoyingly. Beautiful,” he places a kiss on your face after each word. Even after being with him for over a year, you still find yourself blushing after his compliments. “But yes, also annoying.” Steve smirks when you smack him in the chest. He’s hovering over you now with his hands next to your head, his perfect hair flopped over his forehead. Reaching up you run your hands through his hair, stopping at his neck and pulling him back to your mouth. Steve collapses into you, his mouth opening just enough to brush his tongue against your lips. He drops to the bed, breaking the kiss but leaving small kisses down your neck. “Do you miss the old us?” Steve asks, repeating your earlier question. You avert your eyes away from him as he now lays on his side facing you.

You hesitate before answering him, “I don’t know. Sometimes I do, and other times I can’t believe I was ever that person. I lived so blindly, it’s just…” you trail off, staring at the ceiling. Steve takes your two hands into one of his, stroking his thumb over them. “It’s just not the same as it was. I think about everything I know now and it scares me sometimes. I just wish I could be that naive and live in a world where my biggest problem was my dumb crush on the King of Hawkins High.” Steve chuckles and continues to play with your hands. “Sometimes all of this just feels so isolating, like who do we talk to about this?” You ask him truly feeling hopeless.

“Hey, hey,” he sits up, pulling you with him. You keep your eyes fixed on your intertwined hands. “We talk to each other. In this world, this crazy fucked up world, it’s just us.” Steve uses his other hand to bring your chin up, “We have each other. I know it’s not the same as it was, and shit it’s more terrifying now, but I’ve never felt more love in my life either.” He smiles at you, his hazel eyes tracing over every feature on your face. “I’m glad you had that dumb crush on me and I’m glad I had that idiotic crush on Dustin’s babysitter,” you smirk at his words. “Cause otherwise I truly don’t think I would have made it through half of this.”

“Steve,” you look at him with awe.

“It’s true,” he looks at you as if you’re the only thing that matters at this moment. You inch closer to him on the bed as he continues, “when I say it’s you and me, I mean it. We always have each other, no matter what happens…at the end of the day, it’s just us. Just those two love-sick teenagers who gross their friends out with how much they love each other. No matter what happens, I promise. We always have us.”

✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩ ✩

I LOVE this man and I HAVE to have him! I hope y'all are enjoying this series so far bc its truly feeding my harry and ST addictions :))))

next in the series: “daylight” - e.m. x reader

✭ masterlist ✭ requests

#steve harrington #steve harrington stranger things #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x yn #Steve Harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington imagine #Steve Harrington oneshot #Steve Harrington writing #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington x female!reader #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #st x harrys house

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monster-cock69 · 2 years

Text

little angel

Moodboard made by me and AO3 link here

Pairings: Peter Parker x Tony Stark

Pairings: Tony Stark x Peter Parker

Tags: Omegaverse, age play

Warnings: Underaged sex

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Peter was laying on his stomach on a lounge chair, a tablet playing a YouTube video, a juice box in one hand, and his plate of dinosaur chicken nuggets within arm’s reach.

Tony had taken his not-so-subtle requests seriously, and there was a ginormous playset and pool in the backyard. After the alpha had to go back to work, he spent most of his time there.

Clint –an assassin turned babysitter – was sitting on the chair next to him. They were both in their swimsuits, and Clint was already done with his chicken nuggets. Tony had introduced them a little over a week ago, and the beta sub was just as content to let Peter dictate their activities as Tony was.

He hadn’t met a beta sub before since most presented late or were neutrals, but Clint was pretty cool. He always pushed him on the swing when he asked and made a good Marco Polo partner.

Peter chose to look past Clint’s lack of enthusiasm for legos.

He finished the last of the chicken nuggets and moved to get back into the pool.

Clint stopped him by throwing an empty juice box at him, not bothering to remind him that Tony wanted him to wait half an hour.

He’d only gotten a stomach ache once but–

“I know, I know, risk my ass, not yours.”

It had become Clint’s motto whenever Peter wanted to break one of Tony’s few rules. He hadn’t gotten caught doing anything yet and didn’t intend to.

For how demanding Tony could be, he was extremely lax with Peter – he even let him masturbate without asking first.

“Can we go down the slide instead?” He asked casually, not bothering to plead. Clint never really cared when he pleaded or pouted.

He nodded, and Peter walked toward the playset. Since it was easily visible from where he was laying, Clint didn’t follow him.

Playing by himself was a bit boring, but going down the slide and on the swings was always fun for him.

A soft alarm on Clint’s phone told him when he could go back into the pool, and he let the beta continue dozing on the chair while he went back into the water.

His schedule with Tony wasn’t much different than it was at the facility. On the days that Tony had to go to work – which wasn’t too often – Clint would come by and stay with him for a few hours. They’d go outside, Clint would pretend to be interested in whatever game he wanted to play, and Tony would be back before dinner.

If Tony were home they’d spend most of their time building the Millenium Falcon or fucking. After doing the latter, they liked to take a moment and observe the hickeys they’d left on each other. So far Peter liked to think he was winning.

It was a simple existence, but one that he loved.

He wound up falling asleep on his spaceship bed after his shower.

Tony woke him with a soft, “Hey Pete,” and lifted him up gently, “I want you to meet some friends of mine.”

Two men that he hadn’t met before were standing in the living room, both in pristine suits the same way Tony was. Sitting on the couch was Clint, who look like he’d also just woken up.

“Goldielocks is Steve, and the bear is Bucky. You’re gonna come back tomorrow with them after you sit through my meeting with me.” Tony ran a hand up and down his back, dragging Peter back down into a light doze.

He huffed into Tony’s neck, eyeing the two strange men. They both looked like stereotypical alpha doms, so he didn’t know why Tony would have them watch him.

“If you guys wanna stay for dinner, I’m sure Kate made more than enough.” Thankfully the other three declined. Peter wouldn’t have minded Clint staying, but he was hoping to convince Tony to fuck him.

When they’d left, he started pressing gentle kisses to Tony’s neck. He was still half asleep but the alpha’s scent made him feel warm and fuzzy in the best way.

“If you’re this worked up from just my scent, I’ll have to get you a plug for tomorrow’s meeting.” The hand that had been rubbing his back started to play with the waistband of his underwear, under the oversized shirt he’d borrowed from the alpha.

“Don’t you want to go?” He asked when he didn’t get an answer. It was true, Peter had asked to go to work with him in some form after realizing most of Tony’s job was to hold meetings. Being a mob boss sounded boring somehow and he wanted to see how it worked.

“But I’ll be good,” he argued uselessly. Peter had come to realize that there wasn’t much use in arguing with Tony once his mind was made up. Plus, he kinda liked pussy plugs. The ones he’s used in the past were short dildos with knots that stood locked inside him until they were pulled out. Most times, Dr. Phil used them to keep a medication inside him but Peter guessed it’d be used to keep Tony’s cum in.

He just didn’t like the idea that Tony only wanted him to have it so he wouldn’t act out.

“You’re always good. I just don’t want to have to fuck you in front of my men and you always get so wet when you sit in my lap.”

Peter stared, unconvinced until Tony tacked on, “And you can give me a few hickeys if you keep quiet.”

“Fine,” he conceded with an annoyed huff, going back to pressing kisses on the alpha’s neck. Tony was always agreeable to benign marked up by him, and Peter loved seeing the hickeys he left.

Tony’s breathing grew heavy as he led them to the recently vacated couch. He’d never ridden Tony before, but as the alpha stood him between his legs he felt his excitement bubble up. He pulled his shirt off and tugged down his underwear while Tony pulled open his pants.

Tony was already at half mast, and Peter was hard as could be, clear precum already beading at the head of his cock.

His throat went dry at the sight of Tony’s cock. He’d only ever had it in his mouth once, but it didn’t seem right to have Tony get himself ready.

Peter went to his knees gracelessly, hands smoothing at his alpha’s thighs. He was still dressed, pants open enough to have his cock freed and belt buckle resting gently on his thigh.

Tony ran a hand through his hair, a string of encouragement quietly fell from his lips.

He started slowly, kissing gently at the tip of Tony’s length and holding the base with one hand. If he kept at it long enough for his cock to inflate, Peter wouldn’t be able to hold him with just one hand.

The hitch in Tony’s breath spurred him along. He wrapped his lips around the head, lightly sucking.

Peter was slowly being pulled forward by Tony’s gentle hand in his hair, more and more of the impossibly large length being forced into his mouth.

He couldn’t stop himself from moaning, small sounds that reverberated down Tony’s shaft. There was no way he’d be able to take Tony all the way in his mouth, and he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to massage his knot well enough for him to enjoy it.

But Tony didn’t seem to mind at all. He was softly rocking into Peter’s mouth and had his head tipped back. Peter’s cock was steadily dripping, so hard that he was close to begging Tony to fuck him. His cunt was sopping wet, feeling emptier than it ever had before.

The taste of Tony’s precum had started to fill his mouth, making Peter feel like he was on fire. It invaded his senses, made him burn bright with anticipation, and made his mouth water even more.

His fingers itched to wrap around his own cock, but he felt like if he didn’t use his free hand to brace himself he’d start choking on Tony’s cock. As it was, he was fighting his own gag reflex, breathing carefully through his nose, and the hand around Tony’s shaft was covered in spit.

Had it not been for Tony’s tight grip in his hair and the impossibly hard dick in his mouth he’d have thought he looked ridiculous.

Tony pulled him off with a drawn out moan, pupils blown so widely that his chocolate brown eyes looked almost black.

“C’mon baby,” he rasped, chest heaving almost as headily as Peter’s was. He patted his lap in invitation and Peter scrambled to straddle him.

Tony reached a hand between his thighs that Peter slapped away sharply, “No, I’m ready, ‘m ready,” he babbled and directed Tony’s hand to guide his cock into him.

His thighs were shaking with the effort of holding himself up, and he gave into the urge to sink down. Curses fell from his lips at the sudden stretch, but he rocked into it faster, chasing an orgasm that was only a hairsbreadth away.

Tony started jerking him off slowly, a complete juxtaposition to the way Peter was frantically riding him.

He came almost instantly – the dual sensations of Tony’s cock hitting all of the right spots and the slow, easy handjob were too much for him.

Tony put his hands on his hips and helped him move faster, using Peter’s body to get himself off.

It sent Peter into subspace slowly. He hadn’t properly gone down before. During his early days at the hospital he’d be thrown down harshly if the medication disagreed with him, but nothing as nice as this – a slow lapping at his brain telling him that he was safe, that this was good.

It was like heaven.

#little angel #starker #nff #starker nff #omegaverse #peter parker #avengers #marvel #tony stark #spiderman #belle writes #omega peter #alpha tony #mob au #there's like no actual mobtivities though

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grimdarkfandango · 4 months

Text

riley's rec list 2023

oo-er alliteration, ladidah

AIGHT SO hello so I saw a fic rec list yesterday and was like. damn son I love rec lists. and then I read a fic off it and went DAMN SON I LOVE REC LISTS so guess what y'all are getting for 2024. it's a fic rec list! congratulations release the crocodiles

these are in approximately no order whatsoever. not all of these came out in 2023, but some of them did, and I definitely read them with my eyeballs then.

I'm not bothering with a readmore you know how to scroll happy new year

One Hundred Years Past by tciddaemina | BOTW/LoZ | Ganondorf/Link | 39k + sequels Link wakes up a hundred years early. It changes everything.

y'all I only read this two days ago and I am Ob Sessed. what if Ganondorf picked Link up like a feral stray in the desert. What if he dodged calamity with the power of dick and this twink he found. What if the second story in the series was designed in a lab to make me feral. What if!

Pinned and Needled by surveycorpsjean | One Piece (manga/anime) | Zoro/Sanji | 35k Sanji struggles with an injury that prevents him from cooking. Around the same time, Zoro starts to act strange.

[deep fucking inhale] SO. sometimes you are ambling at a slowish pace through a manga with over 1100 chapters and then an author you really like drops a fic for the couple you are rotating in your head and so you go 'hey cool let me just read that' and you don't even get half the plot references in the story but it's enough because then you read 700 chapters in A Week and now you're caught up and get to read it all over again and scream even louder

like a bird on a wire by tierfal | BNHA/MHA (manga) | Endeavor/Hawks | 8k The aftermath, and the undertow, and something like a sunrise.

we still don't know what the aftermath of the war will be [stares into the middle distance about the most recent chapter] so enjoy this hurt/comfort from after ch 390!! I just... love Hawks... it's about the devotion...

I'm realising of all of the recs here this one might need the most canon knowledge to make sense but. also. what if you read 410 chapters of manga and then talked to me about it...

Facade by Hazel_Athena | One Piece (manga/anime) | Zoro/Sanji | 32k Left with only three other crew mates, it’s a ready expectation that Sanji will start fawning all over Robin in his usual obnoxious way. However, that’s not what happens. Instead, looking wild around the eyes in a way only someone who knows him well would recognize, the cook doesn’t break stride until he’s firmly within Zoro’s orbit and can wrap both hands around his upper arm, clinging tight. “Hi, darling,” he chirps, his expression desperately conveying that Zoro needs to play along under pain of death. “Did you miss me?”

ZOSAN FAKE DATING MARRIAGE LESGOOOO

this is just so much fluff and also zoro being in PainTM and I love a good trope mmkay

Carry You Home (In My Teeth) by DistortedDaytime | Stranger Things | Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | 51k All Billy wants to do is lick his wounds and sleep off a bad night. Instead, he wakes up to find his furrier half stranded in Steve Harrington’s laundry room.

Billy the werewolf! Eddie the vampire! Steve the Steve! I am cheating a little bit because I got to cheer this on first-hand as it was being written BUT also it's just really, really, really fun. And horny. And full of Billy's Issues. Plus some neat werewolf worldbuilding and my favourite type of Deus Ex Maxine.

Everything In Its Right Place by JustSomeGuyDontWorryAboutIt | Mandalorian | Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth | 12k In which Cobb Vanth is forced off-planet, roped into a rescue mission, and made to stew torturously in his feelings. Just because you’ve spent months fantasizing about shucking him from that armour like a Sorgan krill doesn’t mean he’s thought about you even once, he reminded himself. Don’t make this awkward. Just enjoy the company while it lasts.

I, too, think Cobb should get to tap that so hard they cause an interstellar incident about it. And that's after he charms the last remaining jedi into giving the kid back.

Same As It Ever Was by QuokkaFoxtrot | Stranger Things | Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson | 62k "Deja-vu? Like you feel like you've done this before, because-" "No!" Steve snaps, feeling everyone's attention snap to him. He lowers his voice, aiming it so that only Nancy can hear. "I mean I've carried Eddie's body back to the rift in the trailer. Twice." --- Sometimes it can take a while to become the man you want to be.

Sometimes a good friend slides you a link to a fic their friend has started writing with a 'hey you ship this, check this out' and then you lose your whole fucking mind, usually directly into the comment box, until the whole thing is complete. This is the time loop fic of DREAMS. This is the GOLD FUCKING STANDARD. This has, unequivocally, REWIRED MY GODDAMN BRAIN. This is, as far as I'm concerned, one of the best fics ever written. Run don't walk.

THAT'S IT HAPPY NEW YEAR

#fic recs #long post #the fuck I'm not tagging all of those fandoms #read em or don't

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nerdieforpedro · 7 months

Text

Drawn in The Void Chapter 2: Where is the Ice princess?

Javier Peña x Roxanne Taylor (plus size OFC)

Fanfiction is 18+

Masterlist / Javier Peña Masterlist

Summary: Roxanne has many thoughts about Javier. Javier has thoughts about Roxanne. Steve and Javier actually put their deductive reasoning hats on. Watch out for Connie's cookies.

Word Count:!

Warnings: masturbation, jealousy, cursing, sexism (Old dudes in suits, never changes, also 1970's), sex work, body fetish, scaring a secretary, possibly poorly translated Spanish), rather dirty thoughts in the office.

Chapter 1

Javier was rarely turned down by women, almost never. He usually was at least able to get a good rapport with them, maybe not as good as the secretaries, but at least sort of polite like he is with his boss Messina. But she’s his boss that’s a woman he wouldn’t touch just for employment reasons. Roxanne was a tough nut to crack. It’s why he called her ‘princesa de hielo’ (ice princess) she was so tightly wound like she had an iron rod up her ass. Instead of talking to him, she left Peña notes reminding him to catch up on his paperwork. Last night was the first time he had really spoken to her, and he had many more questions than answers:

Why does she carry a revolver instead of a standard issue pistol?

Why was she really here late at night, just for work?

Why did she never talk to him? Those notes are passive aggressive.

Had she never really shot anyone? She was way too collected for that. He thought she was just in general affairs, administration, whatever the hell it’s called. Was she married? Had she ever been married? Does she have family? Where did she live?

Is she even interested in anything fun?

Javier Peña doesn’t like questions without answers. His knew the other agents generally, and he knew way too much about Steve and his wife. He even knew a little about his boss in that she liked her coffee with one cream, two sugars. He would get Agent Messina some when he usually has some out-of-scope operation he and Steve wanted to do. Peña left for the night and met up with another working girl to unleash his frustrations on; from Escobar, from the ghosts of those he served beside him that were now pages on a report, the emptiness of knowing he would just coming home to whiskey and cigarettes and now, questions he had about Roxanne.

After Roxanne got home, she took a cool shower, not cold because she got sick the last time, she did that. After the shower, she popped on one of her old cotton nightgowns, drank some ice water and tried to sleep. Listening to the ceiling fan running a over her, thoughts lead back to Javier and that damn ass of his in those jeans.

“It’s two in the morning. Dammit.”

His hand on his hip, looking pensive and he reviewed cass files, he would smile and laugh with both the other agents and secretaries, though with them he was flirtatious, touching her hands, arms, shoulders. A few of them their lower backs.

Roxanne had walked in the break room to get some more DEA strong and yet still didn’t have enough caffeine.

The female agent’s hands roamed her own body.

Javier was behind Maria, one of the secretaries she had fired due to sleeping with that man. He appeared to be saying something in her ear that made her laugh as his hips swayed with hers, hands on them swirling in circles.

She pinched one of her own nipples through her gown, her other hand trailed over her belly, she started to moan. “Fucking Peña. Community dick. Is there a Rolodex you use to decide who you’re going to fuck next?

A small moan left Maria’s lips, Javier purposely reached over her for a cup of coffee and told her.

She used her arms to prop herself up on her pillows so she could better reach her own heat. It was throbbing, begging to be touched, the back of her nightgown had a damp spot on it. One finger touched her clit and she jolted, trailing down the finger entered her dripping hole, and she said his name.

“Hasta luego (later) Maria.” The man said as he walked out of the break room and by Roxy, not acknowledging her presence.

“Javier…you damn…pandejo (asshole). Acting like I’m not there, just because I’m not one of those skinny puntas (bitches). Shit.” She inserted a second finger inside of herself, pumping slowly.

Her phone started to ring, she let it go to voicemail as she was not at all interested in who would be calling her home at this hour. The voicemail picked up and it was Messina, complaining that she wasn’t picking up her phone and she better not be sleeping through her call. Roxy groaned, stopped her fingers and tried to slow her breathing; she didn’t realize she was panting. Masturbating to that man…what was wrong with her? After she calmed down, she called Messina back.

“Hey boss. You called? Is it urgent? I’m trying to get a few hours' sleep.”

“Normally I would wait until tomorrow morning, but you’re needed for an op.”

“Huh? I haven’t been in the field since…”

“I know, but it require’s a woman’s touch. A woman who has some meat on her bones. As those old, wrinkled assholes said.” Messina sighed heavily. She knew what she was asking of Roxy, selecting her because she was a large woman. None of the secretaries and the few female agents they did have fit the bill. Plus, she knew if anything happens, Roxy could take care of herself.

Roxy got the gist of why Messina was asking this of her. She despised it, but if it could even give a silver of a lead to Escobar so she could go home, away from this war and away from Peña, she would do it. “What do I need to do?”

“Whatever tight dress you have, put it on and go to ‘El club del Melocotón dulce’ get a drink or two and try and get the attention of Jose Ruíz, he’s one of Gustavo’s enforcers.” Roxy’s eyes widened; she knew that name. He was basically Escobar’s number two.

“But how will I know it’s him? This Ruíz? What will I have to do to get close to him?”

“The usual, suck up to him, hopefully get him to talk. Any way you can. He goes by ‘La Remora.’”

Her eyes rolled, the thought of possibly having anything remotely sexual to do any cartel members. “Fine. Just pick him up and what info her has and get it. Does it have to start tonight?”

Messina laughed, “No it can start tomorrow night. I hadn’t called to bug you for a while. You’re doing a great job with the office.”

“This is something you could have told me tomorrow, Boss.” Roxy’s rubbed her eyes, thankfully now she was getting tired.

“Roxanne.” Messina said sternly. The hairs on the back of Roxy’s neck stood up.

“Yes Boss.”

“I really do need you to take care of yourself, especially during this operation. I can’t lose you, you’re one of the few who listen to me no questions asked. Look through your closet tomorrow morning and let Blanca know what to take care of while you’re busy.”

Blanca was the most capable to the secretaries, she should be able to distribute the work fairly. “Sure.”

“Just remember, keep safe and no community dick.” Messina laughed as she hung of the phone. She knew Peña irked her to know end.

“She would say that. Ugh…” Roxy laid back in the bed and thought about what she might have that’s sexy. Nothing came to mind. She hasn’t been shopping in years and that was before she came to Columbia. She didn’t need anything sexy; it wasn’t required of the job. “Where do you even shop for stuff like that? Do they even have my size here? Dammit to hell…” her mind ruminated and she was becoming anxious. On the plus side, she wasn’t thinking about Peña anymore.

Javier arrived at the DEA headquarters at noon. He got some sleep, fucked a bit more and slept a bit more; showered and came to work. He did bring coffee for everyone though, which the office appreciated, except Messina.

“Agent Peña, where the hell have you been?” She asked, walking right up to his desk. Agent Murphy slid his chair back so he wouldn’t be between the two of them. He wasn’t going to say anything and see what happened.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am. I was told by our benevolent office manager to get some sleep and come in later. I feel fresh.” Peña gave a shit-eating grin, he had been sitting with his legs crossed but eased back in his chair and opened his legs wide. Messina was pissed but knew she had to actually check with Roxy to see if this was in fact true. She shot him a dirty look and returned to her office, calling Roxy immediately.

“Yes boss?”

“Did you tell Agent Peña to come in late?”

A long pause, followed by a small gasp. Roxy’s face squinted. “I did. I take it he abused it? Did he even come in today?” She asked, she had been in her office reviewing things with Blanca and told the young woman that she was heading over to another office to help organize that one too.

“He did. He even had the gall to spread himself out like those old winkled bastards do. Stupid Peña.”

The agent couldn’t help but laugh, she was glad she wasn’t the only woman he seemed to piss off. They were a party of two it seems. “Ma’am I’m going to finish briefing Blanca and the head out early. Don’t let the community dick bother you so much.” She laughed as her office door open; Blanca had entered with Murphy, a quizzical look came upon her face.

“Well hell freezes over sometimes, I didn’t think you ever laughed Agent Thomas.” Murphy said as he stood next to Blanca. The secretary nodded in agreement and handed her a folder.

“What’s this?” Roxy asked as she looked the blank folder, it was heavy with papers. Blanca mouthed ‘Messina’ and she understood. She would look through it when Steve wasn’t here. Setting down, she looked up at the gringo, curious what he was here for. “I’m assumed you didn’t pop in here to see if I can laugh or not Murphy.”

“I don’t want to but I gotta ask for some help on this one, I keep submitting requests for us to have more back up when we’re doing raids but there’s an asshole who keep rejecting it because of some form technicality. Any way around that?” He asked, Blanca had left at the word raid, she didn’t like hearing it, her younger brother has gotten killed in one of those raids by Escobar’s men. The secretary ran into Javier who asked her were Steve was, she paused since Roxy, and he were talking through something, but he took off those shades and flashed her his dark brown eyes and she pointed toward the manager’s office.

Steve was standing in the doorway finishing up, joking about how it would be easier to strong-arm whatever pencil pusher was making things so difficult since they wanted to raid one of Escobar’s production compounds. Agent Thomas smiled and said that it would only lead to more papers in between him and disrupting more of that devil’s empire. Pencil pushers are meant to make sure that in case anyone is actually alive to prosecute, they won’t wiggle out on a technicality.

Peña listened in on the conversation. It almost sounded pleasant, why did Roxanne only talk to him like you would this wall? He hasn’t tried to sleep with the woman and was never rude that he could remember. Yeah, there was the issue of paperwork but what mattered is that it was done. In between fuck sessions and sleep, he concluded that it would be best to have whichever secretary was willing to help him, fill out the paperwork and he can review and sign. That way, his signature actually be on it. But what else could it be, was she really that petty?

Steve started talking about Connie’s cookies and how she was experimenting with different kinds of flavors, some good, some horrible. Roxy felt slightly salty toward Steve because he was Peña’s partner, but he wasn’t a bad guy, and he genuinely loved his wife if he ate a pistachio-honey-raisin cookie for her. It was very sweet.

“Murphy, that’s riveting, the talks of your wife’s misadventures with baking. So much so that it makes this one look like she was actually listening to you.” Murphy stepped back as Peña draped his arms up the sides of the doorway, standing wide. The hem of his shirt rose, and a peek of his belly poked out and she could see his belly button. Javier’s jeans hugged his hips as he looked straight at the woman seated at the desk. Her eyes flickered for a moment, then returned to neutral gave, betraying that she does not want him here. Her body stiffened from her relaxed posture a moment ago, her eyes squinted, and her lips pursed tightly. She had some thick lips on her. “Sorry to interrupt the little talk, but we,” he said pointed at Steve and himself, “Gotta meet up with some informants.”

The woman’s hands ran over the folder she had been given earlier, eager to read it. “That’s fine. Be on your way Agents.” She replied, standing up and walking across to the door, Steve and Javier stepped outside.

“Thanks for encouraging me to get some rest. It was well needed.” He said quietly. Javier was actually thankful. It had been a long time since he had gotten six hours of sleep in a row. The rest was spent, working out distractions, reviewing notes and drinking.

“Good for you Agent Peña. See you later Murphy, tell Connie to not be too experimental, you’ll actually need to be able to go after Escobar unless she wants you to feed him some of those cookie flavors.” She laughed in Steve’s direction and softly shut her door, not looking in Javier’s direction at all.

“Well damn Steve how do you get her to warm up? Was there some coke in those cookies?” Javier shook his head as they stopped by their desks to grab their stuff.

“No, she’s actually okay. She’s one of those slow to warm types.” The other agent answered, doubling checking that he had his gun and extra ammo.

“Those are my specialty, Steve. I can’t figure her out. It’s like I spit in her coffee or kicked her dog or something. La princesa de heilo.” Peña muttered and grabbed his jacked as they headed out to the car.

“You’re still the only one that calls her that, also it doesn’t help that you don’t follow any of the guidelines set up. They were a bitch to learn, but now I know where to look for stuff instead of digging around for hours.” Murphy smiled it had been quite a change to get used to a filing system and having a set place where files and materials were instead of which ever place had room, but it made pulling up information that had already found a lot faster which led to some better results already. Javier rolled his eyes, lighting a cigarette, Steve was right, but he didn’t want to say it. He stayed silent as they drove off.

“Ugh….I already hate the thought of this.” Roxy looked through her folder at La Ramora, her target. He favored the bar El club de Melocotón dulce, but more than that, his type. He was one that has a fat girl fetish. The worst kind, she has known too many men like that, they saw her as soft flesh to claim and not a person at all so that meant they could anything their sick little minds thought of doing to her. “Now I get why she apologized last night. Messina, you’re lucky I got your back in this broken ass boy’s club.” The club looked like one of few that employed women who were ‘plump like empanadas’ it made her laugh and then she thought about how she was hungry. Blanca came in a brought some coffee and a stack of papers, sitting down across from her desk.

“So you review all these daily?” She asked concerned. Roxy nodded and took a sip of the coffee. It had four creamers and five sugars. An audible ‘mmm’ escape her lips.

“Thanks for the coffee, Blanca. You’ll have to review them and put them on Messina’s desk for a final review before they’re faxed to the Miami DEA office.” The against explained then took a large gulp of coffee.

“Oh, Javier brought the coffee in for everyone. It’s amazing he knows everyone’s order like that.” She exclaimed before peeing at the open file on your desk. “Is that an op? You’re going in the field? That makes sense.” She mused.

Roxanne gagged on her coffee, the sweet Java bubbling back up the throat before she swallowed it back down. He knows how I like my coffee. How does he know that? I make my own coffee in the break room. I choked; I could have gagged on his dick while he was in that doorway. His sexy little tummy, I’d have pinched it while I suck him dry.

“Ma’am? Agent Thomas are you okay?” Blanca stood and smacked Roxy’s back trying to help.

I’d rather be getting smacked on my ass before he fucks me on my desk. I’d end up drooling on these forms.

Her thoughts were even more intrusive that this morning. After she had woken up, she masturbated not once but twice before finally getting dressed and rushing into work. She didn’t eat anything. Roxy waved Blanca away after her coughing subsided, she shot a dirty look at the coffee. Now when she drank it, she was going to think of him too.

“Yeah, only you and Messina know, so as far as you know, I’m helping out at another DEA office that needs to get organized.” She explained. “Do you know where I can get sexy clothes Blanca? That will fit me.” She added, embarrassed to even ask. Blanca gave her a few shops to try and told her to make sure she had multiple sizes of condors on her as well as some changes of clothes. Sex work wasn’t unusual in Columbia so most people either had done it at some point or knew someone who did. It just wasn’t talked about openly. Roxy was thankful for the information and headed out to go shopping. Her role as Sofia would be starting tonight.

It had been a week since Murphy and Peña had seen Roxy. Blanca was in her office and doing her best but seemed stressed out. Steve offered to help Blanca with some of the paperwork when they had downtime. Javier tried as well, but since he hasn’t cared to learn much about the process or system, he wasn’t much help. He decided to go to Messina as someone was clearly going on.

“Where’s the manager Boss?” He asked, plopping down in the chair across from her, she chuckled.

“I’m your manager and boss Javier, you need to stop wearing those sunglasses inside.”

“You know who I mean.”

“She’s getting another DEA office organized like ours. I’ll let her know she’s missed when I talk to her next.”

“Blanca’s stressed out, actually all of them are.”

“Are they so stressed out that you haven’t fucked them? I think not, so they’re okay.” Messina say back and watched his eyebrows raise. “It’s an open secret Agent Peña. The only reason you’re not fired is because there hasn’t been another incident of people fighting in the building.”

Javier bit the inside of his mouth feeling like he has gotten caught red handed. It dawned on his though, was there another DEA office? Black sites sure, Columbian law enforcement of course, but a second DEA office? “There’s no other DEA office. We’re the only one’s out here. That’s why you had to come here.”

Messina gave him credit; she didn’t expect him to figure it out. “Yes yes. She’s still helping other law enforcement get stuff set up, we’ve got to be prepared on all accounts.” Messina explained. Though it was a lie.

“Is she doing her own operation? Does she have back up?” He asked, the pieces falling into place.

Messina sighed. “She’s fine. It’s an assignment from the brass that they felt she was suited for.” With that she tried to wave Peña away.

To him, that only meant that she was likely working vice, he knew what female agents were usually told to do and even though he objected, the brass had a few of the secretaries help them lure some of Escobar’s men in. He couldn’t imagine the ice princess doing anything remotely like that. She was too cold for that, at least to him.

His blank look took Messina for a surprise. She knew the nickname Javier had given Roxy, ice Princess. She decided to tease him since he had barged in her office, “Are mad that your princess is only cold to you Javier? Or are you the type that likes it that way?” His face puckered, loathing that Messina knew about the nickname he had for Roxy, the woman who managed to get under his skin and irk him to no end. He left Messina’s office, muttering under his breath, “This is bullshit. She can’t pull off that kind of job, she’s gonna get killed or worse.”

He returned to Blanca’s temporary office and stared at her, she stopped and looked up at him, so did Steve.

“Agent Peña? What’s wrong?”

“You know Blanca. Tell me.” He asked in a dark tone; he didn’t have a playful look on his face. He was serious.

“Jesus Christ Javi, why you talkin’ to her like that?” Murphy questioned. Entirely confused.

“What op is she working? Who is she trying to get to?” He asked, not letting up.

Blanca bit her too and looked down. “S-She’s helping with another DEA office.” Javier scoffed at her poor excuse. At least Messina had said it with some conviction. Murphy thought for a moment.

“There is no other DEA office. That’s why I came here…Blanca what’s going on? Who’s he…Oh. But where is she then?” Murphy asked looking at Blanca who started to tear up.

“I-I don’t know. She just asked for some recommendations…I don’t know.” Blanca stood up and started toward the door, but Javier shut it and stood in front of it.

“Recommendations for what Blanca? What could she had needed your help with….” Peña’s voice trailed off. “Esa mujer loca (that crazy woman)…where did she go Blanca?” He sighed. Blanca was rather fashionable so it made sense to ask her clothes one might need to be a working girl.

“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me. She just said she’s going after a fish.”

“A fish? Wait fish…fish..” Murphy memory had been jogged, he pulled his notebook out and flipped through the pages. There was one enforcer that was known for liking a certain kind of sex worker. Almost all the cartel likes sex workers but one ‘fish’ had a preference that most of the DEA didn’t fit. “I got his name, La Remora but I don’t know what he looks like, or where he hangs out at, other than Gustavo, he’s rarely with anyone else which Gustavo seems to like that way.” Murphy explains.

Javier was hating this more and more; it was bad enough she was going on her own operation but with such a heavy hitter? What was Messina thinking?

“We’re gonna have to find her before…”

“Before what Agent Peña?” Messina was at the door. “Roxy is a grown-ass woman and an excellent agent and one that I trust. You two capullos can run around shooting, destroying shit and fucking,” Messina shot a narrowed gaze directly at Peña on that last part, “But you want a well-trained agent to come back in a blow her cover because you’re worried?” Put that sexist shit in your hand smoke or jerk with it.” Messina seethed and slammed the door.

“Shit Javi, I think you really pissed her off this time.” Murphy shook his head.

Javier scratched the back of his neck. All his suave demeanor didn’t mean shit today. His boss read him for filth and poor Blanca was sniffling in the corner. He guessed had warmed to his ice princess after all and that’s why he was so worried. Peña gave Blanca a hug and apologized for scaring her. He then left the office and took a drive, leaving Steve to help Blanca with the paperwork.

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