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#imagine he would visit them and be like so..where's Steve
steviesbicrisis · 6 months
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A Barbie AU where the Kens decide, in order to get some recognition, to get individual names.
Steve, who’s just a Ken very good with kids, is having an identity crisis after his Barbie, journalist Barbie, broke up with him.
Not even picking a name as unique and special as Steve, so much different than Ken, managed to cheer him up.
Everyone keeps saying he should be happy about the change, and discover who he is outside of Barbie’s orbit, but he can’t see what was so wrong in their relationship. He loved waiting all day for Barbie to look at him, even if it was for a brief second.
As if going through an existential crisis wasn't enough, he has to do it under the constant mocking of his archnemesis, Ke- Eddie.
Eddie, with his long curly and annoyingly gorgeous hair, who has a sense of style he would give all of his rollerblades for, and who's always there to notice whenever Steve makes a mistake.
Eddie even has his Barbie still by his side, cheerleader Barbie, and every time Steve sees them together he gets a sick feeling in his stomach, like a tummy ache. Doctor Barbie visited him a couple of times and found nothing wrong with him, he imagines he's a little jealous of Eddie for being with a Barbie.
Steve talks about this with Polyglot Barbie, his best friend, annoying her to death.
"Why are we talking about Ken, again?" she interrupts Steve's retelling of his last encounter with Eddie.
"It's Eddie" Steve corrects her.
"Right," she nods. She's very supportive of their silly-name-thing (how most Barbies call it), but she still has trouble remembering all the names, "why are we still talking about him?"
They're hanging out at the park, sitting under a tree, Barbie's leg on top of his, and they're holding hands. It's nice. Steve is happy to have a best friend like Barbie.
Steve looks up, meeting Eddie's gaze. He's sitting at one of the picnic tables not far away from them, doing nothing besides glaring at Steve.
Barbie squeezes his hand to get his attention back, and Steve looks away.
"Because he keeps tormenting me! he's even glaring at me right now, I'm gonna get stress wrinkles!" Steve finally replies, in a distressed tone.
"You're being dramatic," she says, matter-of-factly, "Eddie isn't so bad with you. You know, he kinda treats you like his Barbie."
If Steve had a beating heart, it probably would've stopped right at this second.
"What?"
"You know, he's always looking for you, he is always giddy whenever you give him a crumble of attention. He hangs out where you hang out... why do you think he's sitting all alone at a picnic table, just staring at you?"
"Maybe he's waiting for his girlfriend" he suggests.
"Are you talking about Cheerleader Barbie?" she giggles, "she's not his girlfriend, trust me."
"But he picks on me! all the time! Like this morning, I tripped and he made a comment about my legs!" He gestures at his legs with his free hand.
Barbie tilts her head to the side "you mean this morning at the beach when he held you in his arms for ten minutes to prevent you from falling and Barbie had to tell him to let you go?"
"… yeah” he manages to say. He hadn’t realized how long Eddie held him in his arms, he was upset about almost falling in front of him, but he also liked the feeling of his arms around him.
Everything feels different now.
Barbie's look softens "How does this make you feel?"
"I don't know" he answers, honestly "I just can't stop thinking about him."
A loud noise at their right startles them off of their conversation. They turn around to see Eddie lying on the floor, a trash can at his feet.
Steve doesn't give himself the time to realize that Eddie has probably heard their entire conversation and has tripped on that trash can because of it, he just rushes to Eddie's side to help him out.
Eddie stammers while Steve pulls him back up, not making much sense.
Steve is used to see Eddie as an intimidating guy, someone to compete with for Barbie’s attention. He never realized how much he liked to have Eddie’s attention instead, nor how he loved to give that attention back in equal amount.
“Nice legs” he tells him, repeating the same words Eddie told him that morning.
Eddie stops his incoherent stream of words when he hears him “what?”
“You heard me” Steve says.
“I did” Eddie admits. He pulls the trash can back up, to have an excuse to not look at Steve when he asks “you can’t stop thinking about me?”
For some reason, that’s the easiest question Steve has ever had to answer to “yes, I can’t.”
Eddie jolts back up startling Steve, the trash can falling out of his hands and hitting the ground once again.
“Cool” he says, using all of his willpower to hide his excitement by keeping a relaxed face, failing miserably.
“I guess” Steve grins. Knowing he has that effect on Eddie is making him the most confident he has ever felt in his life.
“So, since you can’t stop thinking about me…” Eddie repeats, in a tone that Steve would’ve mistaken for a mocking one until few hours ago “…we could hang out on the beach later. I’ll bring my guitar.”
“I’ll bring mine too then” Steve replies immediately.
Eddie panics “We can’t both have a guitar!”
Steve crosses his arms on his chest “who says that?”
Eddie opens and closes his mouth a couple of times then mutters, defeated, “fine.”
“Great!” Steve takes a step forward and gives Eddie a peck on his cheek “I’ll see you later.”
Eddie, who makes a face again trying to hide his excitement, nods and turns away “cool.”
He walks away slowly, towards the park’s exit. Right by the gate, he throws himself into an hedge. Steve can clearly hear him when he screams words along the lines of “FINALLY”, “I HAVE A DATE” and “SUBLIME”.
Steve turns to Robin who has witnessed the whole thing, while Eddie is still screaming random words from the bushes.
“I think I’m in love.”
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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months
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Mama Munson made Eddie’s Halloween costumes from scratch every year. She said it was because it looked cooler, but as he got older, he realized it was because she used scraps and cheap fabrics to make them and that’s all they could afford.
But his costumes were always great. Every year was better than the last.
When he got too old for trick or treating, she used Halloween night to teach him how to sew.
“For that jacket you wanna wear so bad, baby.”
It took a lot of effort, and a little bit of help for the thicker patches, but he managed to finish it in a few weeks.
That year for Christmas, he made her and Wayne battle jackets with their favorite bands and singers.
It became the thing he gave to important people.
Shortly after Vecna, when he was stuck in bed for nearly a month healing, he had his mom run to the store in Indy and start grabbing patches. Wayne found denim jackets from the donation store, surprised anything was left at all with how much people needed right now.
Eddie made all the kids jackets, even Max, who would probably think it was stupid in the same way she thought Lucas holding her hand was stupid (not at all).
He made Robin one, with a hidden rainbow flag patch on the inside pocket.
Nancy got one, even Argyle and Jonathan got one.
Steve didn’t.
Eddie didn’t know how to make it a friendly gesture, how to not make it look like he was screaming from the rooftops that he’d fallen hard for the guy who almost single-handedly saved his life. He was certain that giving him the jacket he made would be the end of the daily visits, the joking around, the fun.
“Baby, you think he don’t know?”
Eddie’s mama was trying not to laugh when he unloaded on her while he stitched the last patch to the front.
“He visits you every day, sometimes for hours, sometimes has to be dragged out by nurses, and ya think he don’t know?”
As usual, she had a point.
So Eddie was brave, gave Steve the jacket the next day when he stopped by.
Steve was silent as he took in every patch and pin, even the section of glitter glue Erica had insisted he add. Eddie played with his bare fingers, wishing now more than ever that he had his rings back.
Finally, Steve looked up, watery smile pointed right at Eddie.
“I love it. And you.”
Mama Munson slapped the back of his head gently later while Steve slept in the chair by his bed.
“I told ya so!” Her whisper was enough to make Steve shift around, his grip on Eddie’s hand tightening momentarily. “May have lost a nipple, but got yourself a boyfriend. That’s the Munson way.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“Oh, Wayne never told you about losing his nipple in ‘Nam? Flirted with the medic and blamed it on blood loss, but wouldn’t ya know? The medic was a little light in his loafers, too!”
Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Wayne didn’t lose a nipple. You’re makin’ shit up again.”
“I ain’t never lied to ya! You ask Wayne tomorrow. There’s a reason he don’t ever go shirtless at the lake.”
And sure enough, the next day, Wayne lifted his shirt and showed Eddie where he had nothing but a scar where his nipple should be.
“So what about the medic?”
“Oh! Grant.” Wayne smiled. “We still write to each other sometimes. He’s married, got a few kids.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We wouldn’t have worked anyway. He lives in Maine. Can’t imagine dealin’ with moose.”
Mama Munson just raised her brows from her chair and smirked.
When Steve came by after his shift, he was wearing his jacket and the biggest smile Eddie’s ever seen.
“Anything new?”
“Nothin’ really. Just found out I’ve got a lot more in common with Wayne than I thought.”
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undercoverpena · 8 months
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epilogue. she might just be my everything and beyond
javier peña x f!reader | epilogue of late night texts
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summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.
chapter warnings: here's the epilogue. two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. mention of olivia (steve's and connie's child) ✨ wordcount: 2.7k.
an: at the end.
text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi
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you keep flirting with me and ill drive myself over
Oh will you now?
use my key and everything
You have had very little reason to use it lately.
thats cause youre so desperate youre already at the door
Desperate or welcoming?
both
I can be less desperate next time, if you prefer.
dont you fucking dare baby
So when you coming over?
already putting my shoes on
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It flies by, time.
One minute, he’s clutching your hands until your fingers slide from his. A promise in the air, one he knows you’ll keep because it's all temporary. Knowing that you’ll be right back, suitcase—and possessions following behind—as you move across the country. 
Within a blink, Javi is asking you where you want things to go, in the little place you chose with so much ease. Spotting you unpack a photo frame, the photo strip from Houston front and centre, sitting on a bed of receipts. 
The next, he’s sweating for reasons he’d rather not be.
His back twinging, protesting as he carries another box to the van. Your smile rises at the sight of him approaching, gesturing to pass it to you—still standing on the edge of the truck.
“Cariño. You’ve lived here six months. How have you amassed so much sh–tuff?”
Narrowing your eyes, taking the box and placing it on top of another, “Nice save.”
Sending you a sink, he smiles as you slide your hand in his to get down. Knowing he doesn’t ever need to feel them slide from his again—hopefully, no emotional goodbyes at the airport. Not ones that don’t involve you visiting someone for a long weekend here or there.
“Are you forgetting that I packed an entire suitcase the first time I saw you? Because knowing that information, I am surprised you’re confused that I’ve doubled my possessions since living here?”
Pulling you close, he focuses on how you feel warm against him—fitting against him perfectly. A feeling he’s had plenty of time to grow used to but finds he never does. How you slot with him, face turned upwards, looking at him like he moves mountains and walks across fire.
If you asked him, he would.
But you never do. You just look at him as though you know he would. Knowing he does.
He supposes it’s why you’re all set to move in with him. Into his home. His room.
This place—as lovely as it has been—will no longer be yours. The little home in the centre of town is tucked away above a video store that you’ve become a frequent customer of, whether he has plans with you or not.
From tomorrow morning, though, you’ll be waking up with him officially. The two of you have had months of it, where you’re there but not entirely with him. Even if, over time, your things have been left amongst his, some even finding themselves hanging alongside his. To the point a drawer was needed—and hangers. Still, for a while, when you said home, you had meant yours.
That was until the last few weeks. Your eyes shimmering, twinkling with the stars in the night sky, curled into his side. His green jacket, the one with the brown collar, wrapped around your shoulders, no longer smelled of old cigarette smoke and desperation but rather sweetness and hope. Your hand entwined with his:
Can we go home, baby?
Yeah, I can take you now.
No, to yours.
You poke him. Light, but purposeful. A little jab to bring him back, and the way you’re smiling at him—fuck. He can’t imagine a look that could make his heart double in size quicker. His thumb strokes alongside your cheek. His pink shirt—the one you had commandeered as your own—rolled up at the sleeves and tied at your waist.
Javi’s noticed you steal his clothes a lot. Fashion them into something that suits you better. He doesn’t moan. If anything, he makes it a purposeful thing to show you how much it means to him—how much he likes it, craves it.
“C’mon, only a few more boxes...”
Groaning, he buries his lips against yours, feeling your smile widen, grinning widely against him as you hold him close.
Your teeth pull at his bottom lip before releasing it with a pop, a twinkle to your eyes. “… think of it like this: once the van is packed, we get more time to say goodbye before I have to return the keys.”
“Hmm,” he mumbles, keeping you in place with two fingers under your chin. “And how do you plan on us saying goodbye, baby?”
Sliding your nose against his cheek. “Loudly. I plan on saying it loud, baby.”
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You packed me a note in my lunch?
I did
It wasn’t very safe for work.
you said you eat your lunch at your desk
Yes but I’m not a loner, Javi. I do eat lunch with people.
lesson learned then baby
But yes.
yeah?
I don’t think the porch table will cope though, may have to think of a more stable surface.
I think I can think of something
No wood! I am not having you pick splinters out of my ass again, baby.
that was on you
I think it was on you and your speech about how beautiful I looked being a ranch-hand.
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Do you fancy coming to my office Halloween party?
do I have to dress up
Yes. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll be dressed up too. 
before I decide what are you dressing up as 
That’s the incentive to come, if you say yes I’ll tell you.
do you want me there 
Yes! Want to show you off
then ill be there baby
Because you like being showed off?
yes. but also because you want me there
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While outwardly, he’d protested the trip to Miami from the moment you booked it off work up until he was sat beside you on the place, he does see the beauty in it.
Although, Javi primarily suspects that it is down to you. You with your legs out, you in a bikini on the beach, robbing his shades until he buys you your own—a matching pair, something that makes Steve chuckle and Connie aww.
The lazy mornings that remind him of Houston are nice, too. The ones where neither of you are woken by an alarm or his Pop’s awful singing. The backdrop of the airy hotel room and a warm, gentle breeze blowing the sheer curtains as his thumbs dig into the back of your thighs and make you chant, is a bonus. 
Because Javi can make your skin glisten, and your body sing, whenever and wherever he gets the chance. 
What he can’t have at home with you is the sight of you fitting in so easily with the two people who have become a second family. The ones who have seen him go to lengths he hadn't known was possible, him and his old partner seeing things that only appear in occasional nightmares now. 
Connie and Steve welcomed you in with ease and with them, you smiled so effortlessly. Blending in like you were always there—laughter bursting out of you when you’re playing with Olivia. 
It's there, ever-present on the beach, as you chase Olivia around in the sand. The castles the two of you had been making long since trodden on, as the little girl squeals and squeals until she’s caught. 
“You should marry her.”
Turning his head, Steve nods towards the three of you. Connie snapping photos as you roll in the sand. The yellow tinge from his aviators adds an additional glow to the world as he eyes up his former partner-turned-friend—a friend who apparently now gives unwarranted marriage advice.
Scratching his chin, he rolls his jaw. “You giving me permission, Murph?”
“C’mon, Jav. She’s nice, good to you. Clearly makes you very fuckin’ happy.”
“Yeah, well. Maybe I’m already planning it.”
“Yeah? Fuck. Can’t wait to tell Connie. She told me I needed to convince you.”
Javi shrugs, pushing the glasses up his nose. “It so hard to believe I’d have come to that conclusion on my own?”
“Before you met her? Yeah. Since her? No. Could tell you were smitten—”
Snorting, Javi runs his hand across his chin. “I was not fucking smitten.”
“Yeah, you fucking was. No shame in that, Jav. No shame in enjoying one good woman.”
Groaning, he turns back to the laughter. The corner of his lips twitched, wishing to slide into his cheeks as he watches you throw your head back, neck exposed, as Olivia tries to do a handstand.
“I got the ring last month.”
“Shit.”
Turning his head, he narrows his eyes, watching Steve put his hands up in defence.
“You just said—“
“Yeah, well. Forgot how determined y’can be about things. Surprised me. S’not a bad thing,” Steve says. “Just, y’know. Years ago, I knew you as the man who fucked his way through—“
Elbowing him, Javi smirks as he hears Steve splutter. A sharp look added as Steve holds his hand up.
“I’m not that person anymore, Murphy.”
His friend nods, apology falling. The evidence that he means it stitching into his expression—that he was just joking, teasing. An explanation coming, that he knows how he’s changed—all words he would have once craved hearing. But since meeting you, he’d found even the teasing didn’t upset him as much.
Clapping his hand on his shoulder, Javi looks over his shades. “I know. Alright. Just, I don’t like the reminder, that's all. Feels like… feels like a lifetime ago.”
“Y’telling me.”
Snorting, Javi slides his hand off. Moving his eyes back to the sight of Olivia grinning at the two of them. Her small hand trying to cover her mouth as she whispers something to you, something which Javi suspects involves him from the way she’s running full speed towards him.
“She’s grown up so quickly.”
He’s about to reply, but Olivia interrupts—skidding to a stop in the sand, kicking it across his feet. Swiftly, her hand—all small and delicate—wraps around and tugs on his hand.
“Uncle Javi, can you come play?”
Over the top of her, he spots you. Leaning your weight on one side, hand covering your brows to watch his expression.
And fuck, how can he say no to either of you.
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hows pops?
He’s good. In fact, enough to be getting your Mom’s cookbooks down from the shelf for me.
I hope you know thats him saying he loves you
He has told me how much it means to him that I wanted these. Also keeps telling me that he’s happy they’ll be staying in the family.
bet that made you cry didn’t it 
Yes! Obviously. 
youre so cute baby
In my defence he caught me off guard with the comment, I was busy staring and deciphering the handwritten notes.
not gonna be able to read them now if youve cried all over them
As always, you’re hilarious. I obviously didn’t cry into the book! I cried in the bathroom.
you turn the tap on to try and hide it again
Shut up, Javi.
i should be back soon, just grabbing the parts now
Don’t rush, he’s fine. Promise. He even says his back is barely giving him any problems since I told him I’d cook from the book.
what you cooking?
Come home safe and find out.
youre such a tease 
Learned it from you baby. 
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At one stage, Javi had been good with people.
Persuasive.
Now, he’s unsure if he even knows how to ask for a favour without giving something up or flirting.
He’s still charismatic, or so you tell him. But, he's pretty sure his tact has gone, impatience bubbling as he tries to pretend to give enough of a shit to be able to ask for the favour he wants.
For you, he decides to push through. To not walk back through the door he came through. He does stuff his hands into his jacket, the man staring at him, still wearing the same confused expression he had when Javi first stepped through the door.
Because even if he’s explained three fucking times, the man still doesn’t understand why he asked him to create the crossword he’s got clutched in his hands. 
The one that would never even go to print—just a single request. A favour. All personal, just for him. Not to be published in every newspaper, but just one.
The one for him, and him alone.
It didn't matter how many ways he explained it, the man remained confused. Only reluctantly accepting, he's sure, to get him to leave.
That had been days ago. Now, you're ahead of him. Your fingers brushing over the tops of long stands, occasionally looking over your shoulder at him, making him feel like he's stepped into one of the movies you've made him watch. 
Even when you look ahead, he can tell you’re grinning from behind—taking the view in. It's 'one of your favourites', something you’d told him the first time he brought you here. 
It’s why he brought you here, now.
Second to you, of course, baby. 
You stop some distance ahead, beginning to place down a blanket, all chequered and soft, as he comes to join you. Placing the basket in his hand down on the edge of it, before your fingers are swatting at him and undoing the ties before you grasp the bottle, food and other bits.
Not that he can eat, needing more than what the wine you’d grabbed would do.
Nerves bubbling, dancing and fluttering like the flies further down the hill. You don't notice. You're focused on the newspaper, the crossword he's not let you see for the last few hours, taunting you, making you wait.
He almost wishes he hadn't when it adds to the knot in his stomach, it tightening more when you become irritated at his coyness as he's reading out the clues—
Javi, what are you up to? You always do down, across, down. Always.
You’d have made a good detective or DEA agent.
Likely given him and Murphy a run for their money—something Steve had even said to you both when the two of you were in Miami. Sand in your toes, sea air in your hair—grin brighter than the sun.
“Give it here,” you say, not sharply, but not playfully either.
His hand wipes his lower mouth, hiding his smirk, having wanted you to do that for the past fifteen minutes.
When you take the crossword, you’re chewing. 
Distracted, barely able to spot him sliding the remainder of your punnet from reach. Because Javi remembers how you feel about being asked any critical questions when you are eating.
He supposes it's the one benefit of you making him watch so many romcoms. It allowed him to do market research and ask questions without raising your suspicion, such as where wouldn't you like to be asked and if you want him down on one knee. 
Mainly, I don’t want to have food in my teeth when I’m being asked. Don't want to spit any leftovers at you in my shock.  
“Hey,” he whispers, stealing your attention—watching you smile, glancing at your clean teeth. “Eres preciosa.”
Your lips slide, curling up into your cheek. “You’re such a flirt, Peña.”
Kissing your cheek, he keeps his arm around you. Fingers playing with the fabric on your hip—balling it up before smoothing it out. Thumb and index brushing, calming, soothing him as your eyes glance over the page.
Occasionally, asking him things, avoiding the clues he desperately wants you to solve.
Until.
Fuck, until.
“Javi.”
“Hmm,” he mumbles, pretending indifference, head tilted down, resting his chin on your shoulder—knowing from the high-pitched way you said this name that you’ve already cracked it.
Your fingers slide over the paper, smothering the white and black boxes from view. “Javi?”
“Yes, baby.”
“I think that’s my reply, isn’t it?”
Lips curling, he wraps his fingers around your chin, turning you to face him. Watching it happen in slow motion, how you smile before you grin—tears all but filling your eyes as you clearly try not to get ahead of yourself.
“You wanna make me less lonely, cariño?”
Swallowing, you drop the paper. Let it fall to the blanket, twisting your body until your knees are between his thighs as you take both sides of his cheeks.
“Sí.”
“Sí?”
Nodding, a tear falls. It's one shimmering with joy and happiness, his thumb swiping it, spreading it across your skin.
“I don’t know… I don’t know the translation,” you laugh, it spluttering, fingers stroking his skin. “But I’ll marry you. I love you. Yes, Javi.”
And he whispers it.
The translation. Pressing it, as well as I love you, to your lips as his arms snake further around your waist. Hearing you, all quiet, it almost buried in kisses, repeating the translation back.
Before he falls backwards into the grass, with you on top of him—his fiancé. His world.
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you fancy coming to laredo in autumn
Any particular reason?
been told I need a best man and I only know you
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an: gosh, here we are. i began writing late night texts one night after a chaotic chat with @guyfieriii because i was manic/sad/anxious all at once and it was the only logical thing i could focus on. as much as javi and reader saved one another, they saved me too. thank you to you lovely lot. not only did you welcome this in with open arms, but you cheered me on every single week (also, btw, how cool is it we didn't miss a single week omg). i owe you so much, and i cannot believe we made it here together. to the old followers, i see you. to the new ones who just discovered me, hey, welcome. to all of the friends I've harrassed over the last few months, i love you. to the new ones I've made, i also love you omg. i'm already missing this pair so much, and i cannot wait until we get to hang out with them sporadically. i'm going to go cry in a corner, but just know my heart is so full and so happy and it's all down to you all 🩷
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httpwintersoldier · 9 months
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『 hate fuck. || bucky barnes x reader 』
pairing: Bucky x f!reader words: medium summary: having sex with someone you love was good, but having sex with someone you hated was even better.
A/N: this takes place in a universe where Steve didn't make the dumbass choice of going back in time and staying there.
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You became friends with Steve Rogers when you decided to join a help group for people who had lost their loved ones during the snap. You had lost all of your family, and in a way, so did Steve.
Your loss served as a way to bond, and you became great friends over time. Although it didn't fill the constant sense of emptiness, having each other's company and comfort made it a lot easier to cope.
The two of you would often sit over coffee and go on and on for hours, sharing stories about the people you loved and had lost. It kept the memory of them alive and made the pain a little easier to bear.
You learned that Steve's family had died long before he had even become Captain America, and his only family was Bucky Barnes - a.k.a the man who used to be the Winter Soldier.
The man spoke so highly of his best friend that you couldn't help but imagine the kindest, funniest, best person in the world.
So it came to you as a shock when, 5 years after Thanos visited Earth, everyone came back and Steve finally introduced you to Bucky, and you hated him. Not only that, he hated you too. You couldn't stand each other.
The air was heavy and tense in every room you shared, and everyone caught the very obvious hateful stares you sent each other's way.
It confused Steve. You didn't have a major disagreement, and neither of you were the type of person to just pick a fight with people out of the blue, so the reason why you were constantly at each other's throats was a head scratcher for Steve.
He did try his best to have you two hang out and get to know each other, but it just resulted in an awkward, angry mess every time.
The reason for your shared hate was stupid and childish.
It was mostly jealousy over Steve's friendship. When Bucky came back and saw how close you two were, he felt somewhat replaced, and he didn't like the way you walked around like you were Steve Rogers' best friend. You, on the other hand, didn't like the way Bucky looked at you and the way he dismissed your and Steve's friendship as if it wasn't worth anything.
However, neither of you would admit to being jealous of the other.
"Bucky I'm begging you, behave." Steve asked, hands placed on his best friend's shoulders as he looked into the man's eyes.
"Why am I the one getting the warning!? She's as much to blame Steve." Bucky argued, pulling away from his friend's grip to restock the fridge with beer.
Steve placed his hands on his hips and sighed.
"Fine, whatever. Just... don't add fuel to the fire."
The Avengers were having a get-together at the compound, and Steve knew how much you wanted to meet Thor, so he had invited you over to hang out with them. The man didn't even think about the tense atmosphere it might ensue until he saw Bucky's face twist in disgust when he heard his best friend tell the others he had invited someone else.
When the time came and you came into the compound dressed in semi-fancy attire, you could feel a pair of eyes burning into the back of your skull. You knew it was Bucky, and chose to ignore it out of respect for Steve.
You introduced yourself to everyone, and you were visibly shy, standing before some of the strongest people in the universe.
"No need to be shy, miss Y/N. We are all like you! Well, I am a god, but the others are like you." Thor said, as he tried to make you feel more comfortable, and you smiled shyly.
You took a seat next to Steve, and not long after Bucky came into the room. He looked around for a seat, and luck certainly wasn't on your side, as the only vacant space was next to you.
He audibly sighed and took the seat.
"You can always stand." You said, under your breath, so only he would hear it.
Bucky ignored you, Steve's request to "behave" playing on his head over and over again, but you knew he heard you from the way his body tensed.
"So Y/N, how did you meet Steve?" Wanda asked, trying to get you to open up more.
"We met in one of those group meetings to help people who've lost someone to the snap, he helped me big time." You explained, smiling at Steve.
"So it's been what? Five years since you met? You must be like best friends now." Bruce said with a smile, finding your friendship cute.
Upon hearing those words, Bucky scoffed.
"Best friend? She wishes."
"I've been around more than you have."
You didn't want to reply to him, you didn't want to stoop to his level, but the reply came out of you automatically.
"I was physically unavailable 'cause I was snapped." Bucky argued, turning his body to face you.
Steve buried his face in his hands and sighed, as if saying "here we go", as the rest of the Avengers just looked confused.
"Bucky and Y/N don't get along... at all." Steve explained, brreaking the awkward silence and tension.
"Why?" Bruce dared to ask, his curiosity not getting the hint to leave the subject alone.
"If you have a conversation with her you'll understand why."
"I'd say the same but you're the most antisocial person I've ever met. You couldn't hold a conversation to save your life." You retorted instantly.
Pure hatred, disgust and anger were displayed on your faces as you engaged in what seemed like the most intense staring contest.
"Guys, please calm down, this is the first time we've all been together since everyone came back, let's all just take it down a notch and have a good time, okay?" Steve said, looking between the two of you, practically begging with his eyes.
"Whatever, I'm gonna get some air." Bucky said as he downed his beer and left the room.
Steve felt bad, but he also felt that leaving the room would probably be best for Bucky, as you two couldn't be in the same space together at that time without bickering, and you didn't know the compound well to go around and blow off some steam.
Some of the tension immediately died down, and soon after the group went back to the regular conversation, sharing stories, remembering old times, and bonding again over their experiences.
Since you were drinking, it wasn't long before you needed to use the bathroom.
"Steve?" You asked, tapping the man's shoulder.
He turned to look at you, focusing on what you had to say.
"Where's the bathroom?" You asked in a hushed voice.
"You go through there," Steve started, pointing at a hallway behind you "make a right, and it's the third door on your left."
You thanked the man and excused yourself from the room, although everyone else was too engaged in the conversation to notice.
After going to the bathroom, your mind was too distracted thinking about how lucky you were to be sitting and laughing with the Avengers to realize that you had gone the wrong way, and when you came back down to earth you registered that you had no fucking idea where you were and how to get back to the common area.
"Shit..." You said, looking around and wandering about as you attempted to find yourself.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
You recognized the voice that echoed behind you instantly. How could you not, it triggered you every single time.
You turned around to find Bucky, standing there in his usual "I'm better than everyone" with arms crossed and a raised eyebrow.
"I just love walking around and staring at walls and doors that all look the same." You said with an insincere smile, causing Bucky to roll his eyes.
You resumed your hunt for the area where everyone was gathered, but the soldier caught up to you and stood in your way.
"You're lost, aren't you?" He had this smile of amusement on his face.
The man was just waiting for you to admit it, so he could make fun of you for it.
"Bucky get the fuck out of my way, you're so annoying I don't know what could've possessed Steve to be your friend."
You shoved him as you said that, attempting to get past the Soldier. But apparently your comment set him off, as he grabbed your arm and pressed you against the wall. The soldier's face was centimetres away from yours, his jaw was clenched and eyes displaying a plethora of emotions you couldn't even begin to describe.
"You're out of your fucking mind if you think for a second that Steve would somehow prefer being with you than with me. I'm his brother, you were just a replacement while I wasn't back."
You scoffed and tried to shake him away, but to no avail.
"Is that why your panties are always in a twist when I'm around? You're jealous?" You teased, knowing fully well you were stepping into dangerous territory.
Bucky's grip went from his regular hand holding your arm to his bionic hand gripping your jaw, pinning it against the wall.
"Listen here princess, there's nothing to be jealous about. If you think I'd ever feel something other than disgust about someone as useless as you, then you're dead wrong. You mean nothing to me." His face was even closer to yours as he spat those words, hate and anger dripping from every single one.
"Oh and I'm so hurt by your words, will I ever get over it?" You asked sarcastically, bottom lip pouting and fake sadness displayed in your face.
"Shut the fuck up, I'm so fucking tired of hearing you bitch all the time." Bucky's voice was just above a growl, and it intimidated you beyond belief, but you'd never show it.
"Shut me up then."
Bucky opened the door next to you and shoved you inside, then slamming the door closed.
His bionic hand wrapped around your neck and brought you closer, your body crashing against his.
"I'm gonna shut you up alright, I'm gonna fuck you dumb so you stop running that little bitchy mouth of yours." Bucky told you, switching the tension in the room immediately.
"You're doing a whole lot of talking and not a lot of fucking."
"You're such a fucking brat" The soldier growled, pushing you against the wall and violently smashing his lips against yours.
The kiss was rough. No, it was animalistic. Your heads moving from side to side as you fought with your tongues for dominance, teeth clashing and hands all over each other, with lip and neck bites here and there.
Your hands tugged on his hair, and your thigh sneaked in between his legs, rubbing against his growing boner.
Bucky, on the other hand, squeezed all of your curves - your waist, your hips, your thighs and your ass. Any piece of flesh he could get his hands on, he'd squeeze and slap.
Unbeknownst to each other, you had also turned that moment into a competition, and you were desperately trying to make each other moan, as if the blatant display of pleasure from the other party was a trophy, as if it was a confirmation of submission.
In traditional Bucky fashion, he grew impatient, and decided to play dirty. As he mantained one hand on your ass, the other sneaked in between your bodies and undid your pants' button and zipper. Before you could protest, his hand found its way inside of your panties, and two of his fingers pushed inside of you.
"Shit- fuck!" You cursed as you pulled away from the kiss and gripped his shoulders, not being able to contain the ecstasy his touch made you feel anymore.
"So wet for me, doll." Bucky teased, whispering in your ear "Are you sure you hate me? Maybe you just really wanted to fuck me all this time."
He bit your earlobe and you groaned, out of pleasure and frustration. You wanted to complain and shoot back a snarky remark, but fuck the way his fingers filled you up and stretched you out was so delicious that you just couldn't.
"Fuck... you." You managed to say between deep breaths, as your head hit the wall.
Bucky slapped your ass harshly, and attacked your neck with small bites as a punishment (that you definitely wanted more of).
Your back started arching as your climax approached. You weren't sure if it was because it was Bucky or if it was because you were fucking in the middle of a party, but your climax approached extremely fast. And Bucky could tell.
He could very well tell you were about to cum from the way your eyes shut, your back arched and the way your hips desperately started grinding on his fingers begging for more.
So he picked up the pace, right before pulling his fingers out, and licking them clean in front of you.
"You fucking asshole." You said, out of breath, looking at him through your lashes.
"Sticks and stones princess."
You began getting on your knees, when Bucky gripped your neck and got you back up.
"Oh how cute, you thought I'd give you the chance to do the same to me? How stupid do you think I am?" He cooed mockingly, then approaching his face to yours "I own you. I control you and I will use you as I please. Got it?"
Although his tone was aggressive and intimidating, and his eyes expressed a mix of lust and seriousness, you'd never let him win at this mind game.
"Fat fucking chance, asshole."
The man picked you up, swung you over his shoulder and carried you to the bed, slapping your ass harshly before letting you fall on the mattress. He pulled down your pants, as well as your underwear and discarded of them.
Bucky then hovered over you and looked at you threateningly, the thing he seemed to be best at.
"You're such a fucking brat... I'm gonna love to destroy you."
You didn't realize he had pulled his cock out by the time he finished the sentence, and just as you were going to say something, he bottomed inside you.
The fucker had timed it perfectly to shut you up with his cock, and you knew it. You knew it because as you looked at him through half lidded eyes you could see his smile, a smile that said "I win" as his tongue poked against the inside of his cheek.
"What's that princess? Wanted to say something? Go ahead. Say it."
He knew you couldn't. Bucky was perfectly aware that you couldn't speak because he promised to fuck you dumb and he was achieving it.
The way he held you down with one hand on your hips and one around your neck, his hips incessantly snapping against yours at a pace you had no idea was even possible.
All could manage to leave your lips were moans and incoherent swear words that you yourself couldn't put together.
"That's it, doll, you look so good like this, taking my cock." Bucky's voice then darkened "I'm going to fuck the brat out of you no matter how many times it takes."
Bucky was loving it. Seeing you be so submissive in front of him, moaning and whimpering as you took him all in... It took all his strenght not to cum quickly, but he wanted to see you cum first. He wanted to see how good you looked as you came, knowing he (the person you hated most) was the reason you were climaxing.
As soon as your hands gripped the sheets and your back arched once more, Bucky knew you were close.
"That's it doll, cum for me. Cum on my cock princess, I want to see how good you look." He said, breathless.
It wasn't long before you obeyed his command.
"Fuck, Bucky!" You yelled as your climax hit, your legs trembled and your eyes saw stars.
Your mind went blank, and you could swear you had passed out for a second.
The soldier finally let go, buried himself deep inside of you and came, as he groaned and gripped your hips tigther.
When he pulled out, he fell beside you on the bed, trying to regain his breath like you.
No words were exchanged, you simply stood up and put your clothes back on and the man followed suit.
You made your way to the door and opened it, before stopping and stealing one last look at Bucky.
"This was the first and last time."
The man chuckled, paused and stood up, walking up to you until his chest was against your back and his hands on your hips.
"Sure thing princess, lie to yourself all you want, but you can't lie to me, you'll be back. I saw how desperate and wwet you were for my cock."
You felt the heat in your body rise, and just pushed him away as you tried to find your way back to the common area, trying to forget what had just happened.
You fixed your hair and makeup as best as possible with the help of your phone's screen, and once you started hearing their voices in the distance you found your way back.
The vibe of the room slightly shifted when you entered, but you just assumed that it was because they weren't used to you.
However, the belief changed when you sat down beside Steve and he leaned in to whisper to you.
"I take it you two... made peace?" He asked, a little big of hope and disgust intertlocked in his words.
You looked at him with wide eyes and fake confusion on your face.
"What do you mean!?" You whispered back and Steve rolled his eyes.
"Y/N, we all heard you scream 'Fuck, Bucky'."
[TAGS]
@pattiemac1 ; @buckysfirstbitch ; @low0tter
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harmonictechnicality · 11 months
Text
*my humble offering to @steddie-week (and the s4 anniversary!) | ao3 link here*
Like most bad ideas, it starts with a question. Eddie is sitting on the ground, messing with the laces on his sneakers. Tying, untying. Mindless shit.
Steve is taking up the whole damn park bench, practically laying on it. Hasn’t said a word in the last ten minutes. 
And Eddie sort of hates the silence. Would like Silence to get decapitated with a chainsaw or something equally gruesome. Needs that particular volume to die the loudest death possible. For the sake of irony, of course.
So Eddie kills it - the silence, that is. The lull taking up all this air between him and Steve Harrington.
He kills it with a question:
“What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?”
Steve’s head snaps in Eddie’s direction. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
“Fuck, I don’t know, man.” Steve sort of twitches, right between his eyebrows. Shoulders going lopsided, unnaturally angled. Uncomfortable.
Eddie shouldn’t be feeding off this tension so much. Judging by Steve’s body language though, the answer must be a good one. 
He leans forward, almost singing the words. “You sure about that?”
Pushing is fun, darkly playful. Eddie enjoys getting under people’s skin, crawling around till they shrivel up. Is it wrong? Morally unethical? Well… the verdict is still out on that.
Besides, he’s been around Harrington enough lately to know that it doesn’t take much to make him surrender. 
“Fine.” Steve huffs. He lifts himself to a sitting position, knees bobbing up and down. It takes all of Eddie’s leftover energy to not gloat about how easy that was - how quickly Steve caved. Teasing can (will) come later - right now, he wants answers. 
Secrets.
“So, Robin and I went to this party in the city… got pretty shitfaced.”
Eddie throws his head back. “Lame.” 
“Story’s not over.”
Oh? Interesting. Eddie places his hand over his heart, then waves it back at Steve. “My sincere apologies. Continue.”
Steve rolls his eyes, clears his throat (not that he needed to but whatever). “Anyways, she somehow convinced me to go to this tattoo parlor with her. Said her friend worked there and she wanted to visit them, so-”
“Wait wait wait. Don’t tell me this story ends with you getting a butterfly tattoo on your lower back.”
“Will you stop interrupting?”
There’s this serious expression in Steve’s eyes. A combination of dark colors and pure annoyance. Eddie is sane enough to know that annoyance isn’t something he should find endearing, but he does. On Steve.
Just a little.
He shrugs, and Steve continues. “Well, it turns out her friend wasn’t working that night. But the piercing lady was working and was like… superpersuasive.”
“Look, Munson, I don’t remember many details after that. Like I said, totally shitfaced. I just know when Robin and I woke up the next morning, we were so fucking sore. And not like, hangover sore either. We were sore in the same exact place. Right here.”
Steve’s pointer finger is gesturing at his stomach. Right in the center.
No. Absolutely not. Either Steve had severe stomach pains that night, or he’s suggesting that…
No.
“Yeah. There you have it.”  Steve says. Blankly nodding into space. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done is get a matching belly button piercing with my best friend. Jesus christ, that’s freaky to say out loud.”
The Silence sneaks up on him. Stabs Eddie in the back when he isn’t looking because he’s too busy trying to imagine Steve Harrington with a piercing of any kind. Let alone the most famously slutty kind.
Wrong, so very wrong. He should never let the words slutty and piercing clutter up his imagination while thinking about Steve. The silence has been too long now. Gotta say something, anything.
“Bullshit.” His tone is harsh. Doesn’t mean for it to be. “There’s no fucking way.”
Steve pouts, crinkles his forehead. “I swear on my car - I’m not making this up.”
And see, here’s where the bad idea comes in. This stormcloud of pouting and piercings and chest hair, it’s all becoming dangerous. That urge to provoke is in Eddie’s bloodstream. He has to tip the scale, twist the knife of chaos as far as he can. Self control is out the fucking window.
“Prove it then.”
“Fuck off, Munson.” Steve laughs, maybe scoffs. Either reaction is a little confusing. “Seriously, this isn’t truth or dare.”
The truth is already out though. It’s the dare that Eddie is hungry for. “You can’t just drop a nuclear statement like that and expect me not to ask to see it.”
“Technically, you didn’t ask.”
Eddie clamors over to Steve, all theatrics and fake agony. “Please, Lord Harrington.” He clasps both hands together, rests his cheek on Steve’s knee. Batting his eyelashes till Steve cracks a smile. “Let me see the metal that has punctured thy skin. I beg of thee.”
Steve shoves him off. “You’re such a dork.” It’s lighthearted, barely qualifies as shoving. He’s become way too decent for actual aggression these days. 
A fact Eddie tirelessly clings to when Steve stands up. Lifts the bottom of his shirt and puts it in his fucking mouth.
“Holy shit.” Eddie mutters. No time to consider how pathetic it comes across.
In theory, this should all be stupidly unattractive. The way Steve holds his shirt between his teeth. The way he mumbles incoherent shit between the fabric in his mouth. The way he keeps pointing at it, poking it.
That shiny, teardrop-shaped metal. Just… hanging from Steve’s belly button, swinging slightly with every small movement. Eddie’s eyes start to swing with it, back and forth. Back and forth. Maybe those roadside hypnotists are onto something, because the dumbest piece of jewelry has Eddie captivated.
He could just be captivated by the guy attached to the dumbest piece of jewelry. Piercing.
Jesus Christ. Eddie really didn’t think his life could get any weirder. But here he is. Staring at Steve Harrington’s belly button piercing. Fucking mouth-breathing at the sight of it. Probably seconds away from salivating. 
He really should consider seeing a licensed psychologist. Fix his terminally horned-up brain once and for all.
“It’s…” Eddie swallows, his eyelids feel heavier than his stare. “Not what I expected.”
The fabric drops from Steve’s mouth. Unevenly falls around his waist... hips. “What were you expecting?”
To laugh. To mock. Threaten blackmail for six lifetimes, maybe more.
Instead, Eddie gazing at it the way people gaze through telescopes. He peers lower, tries to see if it’s silver or gold. Hard to tell at sunset. None of Eddie’s typical instincts are sinking in. All he wants is to feel the metal rolling over his tongue or get it trapped between his teeth. See how it tastes mixed up with Steve’s skin.
“Fuck.” Yikes. Eddie didn’t mean to say that out loud. Straightens up from his questionable position, does it so fast that his spine sounds like bubble wrap. “Sorry, sorry.”
What the hell is he apologizing for? Cussing? Having a skeletal structure? Christ almighty, he’s a mess.
Steve’s lips spread into a grin, doesn’t look like his own. Looks more like the kind Eddie might give after pulling off a successful decoy in one of his campaigns. “What’s wrong with your face, man?”
“My face?”
“It’s all…” Steve trails off. Sighs and sits back down on the bench. “Nevermind.”
Eddie reaches up to his cheek, understands exactly what Steve is referring to. He feels feverish to the touch, must be a shade of red that is so deep, it’s noticeable in the darkening sky. 
“Sorry… sorry.” Steve hangs his head. Seems troubled even though Eddie is nailing that particular routine all on his own.
“Think that’s my line.” Eddie jokes. 
“Right.”
Silence is lurking around them yet again. Eddie hates it, but he’s running out of steam here. The embarrassment is on display, his cheeks and neck covered in splotchy red patches. His voice is higher, somehow, as if his vocal chords are shrinking. He’s undergoing a crisis and crush simultaneously and it is not an attractive look for him.
“Just go ahead and get it over with.” Steve says. Interrupts whatever cynicism that’s currently brewing in Eddie's head. 
“Get what over with?”
“The teasing.”
“Oh that’s not… it’s um… you don’t…” Eddie can’t pick an appropriate response. They’re way beyond politeness and niceties. And any bullshit he tries to pull isn't gonna be convincing. So it’s best to stay honest. Embarrassing, but honest. “I think it looks pretty good.”
“You do?” Steve looks softer. 
“Yeah. I mean… Bowie probably has one, and he’s a fucking superstar so. Uh. Yeah.”
“Bowie, huh?”
“I like Bowie.” I like Bowie? What a beefhead answer. Eddie joins Steve on the bench, hopes it distracts from that very un-cool line. 
“I like Bowie too.” Steve messes with his hair a bit. Elbows Eddie in the side and chuckles. “You should get one.”
“A piercing?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t hold your breath, man. I’m not letting that nightmare creator you described anywhere near my lower abdomen. Not gonna happen.”
Steve reaches out, runs his knuckles down the bridge of Eddie’s nose. Stops at the crease of his nostril. “What about one right here?” His voice is even, calm. Too calm for what he’s asking.
His hand is warm, slightly calloused. The only two thoughts Eddie can process without going fully catatonic. Steve’s hand is on his face and it’s warm.
Slightly calloused. 
“Uh. Dunno.” Eddie says. A hoarse whisper in reply. “Probably not.”
Steve scoots in closer, never taking his hand off Eddie’s face. Just moving it around. Exploring. He brushes along to Eddie’s ear this time. Holds the edge of it between his thumb and index finger, looking straight at it. 
“What about right here?” Steve’s eyes stay fixed on Eddie’s ear. Every touch seems natural, just questions that involve connection or something.
Internally, Eddie is dousing flames. Fanning them left and right. Running in circles, fucking clueless on how to properly calm down. Be civil. Be Dude Civil. His breathing is so rapid, he knows it. Can hear it between them, collecting space. Decides it would be best to mimic Steve. Fix his eyes only on him, borrow the stability as much as possible.
“Mmm… maybe.”  Eddie gets stuck on the ‘mmm’ sound. That’s how good it feels having someone touch him like this. Careful, yet heavy in curiosity. Rolling the tip of his earlobe between two fingers, just enough pressure to create heat. 
It warrants that sound.
Steve’s glance drifts before his fingers do. Eyes landing on Eddie’s lips, slight hesitancy before his hand follows. Eddie has to hold his breath now. Minimal oxygen is the only way he’ll survive this moment, which makes no fucking sense, but it does all the same.
“Here would look really good.” Steve slowly traces the curve of Eddie’s bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. The back and forth pattern is disarming. Makes Eddie’s lips part, mouth slightly open.
Just enough to speak. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
If Eddie passes out from lack of oxygen, he’ll regret it. He’ll regret not taking the risk, finishing what Steve has started. Because this surpasses friendly touching. 
This is charged in electric shockwaves.
Eddie dips in, kisses Steve before he can move his hand out of the way. Steve makes a sound, not even a surprised one. It’s sweeter, laced in relief. Eddie pushes in, wants more, whatever he can get. Has his fingers wrapped around Steve’s wrist, the same hand that’s dragging down his face, his neck. Stopping at his chest. 
Every rumor is true, that kissing Steve Harrington is like the gates of heaven opening up. That his tongue could work miracles on amateur lips with a few licks and curls. But no one ever told him about the noises he makes - and those are the best fucking part. Heaving breaths, pleased whines, each one captured with Eddie’s mouth before they get any louder.
Maybe that’s it. Maybe those are just for Eddie. Reserved for kissing him.
Goddamn, he’s delusional. Completely delirious from kissing a dude with a belly button piercing.
There’s a light getting brighter, almost approaching them. Eddie opens his eyes, quickly backs off while Steve does the same. Has to literally detachhimself from wherever his hand was busy wandering all over Steve’s body. 
Headlights pull into the nearby parking lot. Eddie squints to get a better look at the car. It’s Robin and Vickie, showing up fashionably late as always. Sure, he’s grateful that it’s just them, the queerest people in his circle of weirdos. And while they’re reasonable people with shit like this, even they’dbe shocked to know that Eddie and Steve just sucked face for a solid three minutes. Probably best to not mention the gory details, not tonight. Eddie hopes Steve is thinking the same thing.
Both of them stand up, rearrange themselves to look presentable. Less tousled and kiss-bitten. Steve spends a few extra seconds with his hair before turning to Eddie, eyebrows high. Likely a non-verbal ask if his hair is looking as godly as ever.
Of course it does. Looks even better knowing Eddie’s nails were just digging into it.
Steve is a few steps ahead of Eddie, heading for the girls, when Eddie does it again. Kills the silence with a question. 
“Can we… do this again?” It’s edging on desperate, he’s so fucking aware of that. Self control really proving to be a major downfall with him tonight. Should definitely consider taking classes, train his willpower or some shit.
Steve stops walking. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t even look at Eddie as he speaks. “My place.”
Oh. That’s… wow. Unexpected. Eddie jogs up to Steve, beside him. Way too eager now, sort of buzzing for more information. Hints of excitement or maybe a smile. Anything, really. He’s at that level of weak for this guy.
Steve just keeps walking, but leans in, right next to Eddie’s ear. The same one he messed with earlier. His voice is quiet, but Eddie hears every damn syllable:
“I’ll leave the window unlatched for you.”
For him. 
Maybe Eddie isn’t completely delusional after all.
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artiststarme · 3 months
Text
Here’s a little something something prompted by @nburkhardt. I wanted to go angstier but she specifically requested a happy ending lol.
Enjoy and leave your thoughts in the comments!
~*~*~*~
As fall grew into winter, Steve started to feel more and more wrong-footed. Gone we’re the dinner invitations from the Wheelers and the drop-in visits from Dustin. They had better things to do, he guessed, than have over the town’s loser for company. Just like the weather, he also grew cold. With each lost invite and every day alone, the chasm in his chest grew until there was only emptiness where his hope used to be.
One day though, it all made sense. Mike and Dustin blew into Family Video with Eddie Munson in tow. They were all laughing and speaking in weird voices that only they understood. It seemed that Steve had been replaced as the “older male figure”, still creepy, and he’d been replaced by Munson. The moat between him and the kids only seemed to widen when he refused to rent them a rated R movie and Eddie rented it himself.
He’d been replaced. After everything they’d gone through, the fate he’d always imagined but hoped wouldn’t, had come. Everywhere he looked, he noticed. He saw Munson driving the kids home from school, saw them walking in town together, and even saw Eddie being invited into the Henderson home for dinner on one particular Tuesday. His worst fear had come true; the kids didn’t need him anymore. Worst yet, it seemed they didn’t even want him.
Instead of wallowing in the well-deserved self-pity, he moves on. Steve distances himself from the kids (not that they notice) and picks up a second job. He doesn’t love working at Melvald’s but Mrs. Byers’ position was open and he was desperate. He needed to save all the money he could so that he and Robin could move once she graduated. Steve couldn’t let her leave without him just because he didn’t have the funds to leave Hawkins. He didn’t know what he’d do if she left him too.
So he worked himself to exhaustion and avoided Robin’s questions at work and Mrs. Henderson’s curious glances at the grocery store. He hides in the back room of Family Video when Munson tracks him down to gloat and locks his front door to avoid the kids if they were ever to come to his house and rub it in.
He continues his melancholic loathing until he couldn’t anymore. Eventually his lack of sleep and empty diet had to catch up to him and catch up to him it did. Embarrassingly, it caught up to him right as he started yelling about Munson replacing him right to Eddie’s face and he passed out in his arms like some damsel in distress.
When he woke up in the hospital, it wasn’t a huge surprise. He’d felt it coming just as he’d felt the kids pulling away. What was a surprise was the ringed hand wrapped in his and the soft lull of someone reading Lord of the Rings to him.
The sleeping Henderson mother sitting in the chair at the end of his bed was also a surprise albeit the hissing cat in her lap was not. God, Steve hated Mews 2.
When everyone woke up, there would be screaming and crying and an outpouring of love. Steve would see that Eddie didn’t replace him but instead aimed to join him as a part of the family. He’d show him through hand-holding, kisses, and bringing Steve lunch in his free period.
Steve could finally see how loved he was as part of the Henderson family. He also saw how fun it was to be the older brother once he could gross Dustin out by flirting with his boyfriend in front of him. And the best part? Eddie liked horrifying the kid too.
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flanaganfilm · 1 year
Note
hi mike, saw someone say your ask box was open and i came running! have you ever had any ideas as to how the crain family would be getting on now a few years later/what they're doing? it's always in the back of my mind wondering if creators also wonder about those sort of things themselves once their project has ended. thanks so much & hope you have a great day!
I do think about that. Quite a lot, actually.
The Crains took on lives of their own for me. I'd never written long form before, so it was the first time I lived with the same characters for that long, and for such extended arcs. Here's where I think they are, a few years later:
Shirley: I think that Shirley and her husband overcame her disclosure of infidelity. She'd been closed off for so long, after the series ended I think she found some peace in her life and opened herself up to her marriage. I think she also began to find kindness again. They ran the funeral home together, but Shirley found purpose in helping people handle grief and loss with empathy and kindness. Her oldest would be just about ready to start college now, and I think that would have her looking back and realizing that she always remembered her childhood as seemingly endless... but now she sees just how fast it truly goes by.
Luke: Luke stayed sober. He's six years into it now, and it's gone so well that he's also become a sponsor. That doesn't mean he's immune to the struggle, far from it. He still walks up to that edge sometimes. Oddly, it's in those moments that the "Twin Thing" kicks in... and he feels an inexplicable and complete sense of love. He knows that's Nell's, and that always pulls him back from the brink. He never did find Joey, or find out what happened to her. And sometimes he still wakes up with nightmares that he's on the floor of the Red Room, or that Joey visits him with her runny-egg eyes. But no matter how hard it gets, he feels what Nell feels for him... and that always pulls him through.
Theo: Theo and Trish got married, and moved far away from New England. They currently live in Portland. She still works with children, but enjoys a much smaller patient pool. She specializes in the kids who are hardest to reach, and she's sought after for her unique and uncanny ability to connect with them. She doesn't wear gloves anymore, but she still avoids the very crowded places. She and Trish take long hikes, grow their own pot, and travel frequently and spontaneously. They're considering a surrogate... and if it's a girl, they're going to name her Eleanor.
Steven: Steve and Leigh have two kids, and are thinking they might stop there. He never wrote about what happened at Hill House, but he still writes. Science fiction. Leigh recommended the genre as a way for him to focus on the future, not the past. He likes it a lot. It's pulpy, but it's earnest. He maintains Hill House, as it is his responsibility, but he doesn't enter the property beyond the gates. He has a rotating collection of people service the property itself, always during the day, and only for a few hours at a time.
Hill House stands quietly and silently in the hills. There is something different about it. Still the same energy, but without the malice. Steve assumes this is because of Hugh, Nellie and Olivia, who maybe curb the most malicious energies of the house from within. While shadows still walk in the windows at night, there are no living souls there to see them. Mostly, Steven imagines the spirits inside spend most of their days sleeping. And if they cannot sleep, he imagines Mrs. Dudley singing softly to them on the wind.
There is grief, for all of them. There are nightmares. Horrible dreams of moldy rooms and phantom hands. They meet twice a year, usually without spouses, to catch up and raise a glass to Nell, and their parents. There is a lot of healing still to do, a lot of therapy, a lot of introspection. But there is peace, too. There is love. There is forgiveness.
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sweatervest-obsessed · 9 months
Text
Home Is Where The Heart Is
Pairing: Steve Harrington x afab!reader
W/C: ~7.2k
TW: 18+ MDNI, smut Teehee. Face riding, oral (both m and f receiving), foul foul language, mentions of depression, smoking weed, impulsive decisions, self-deprecating thoughts, self-image issues, upset Robin Buckley, mentions of the Upside Down, scars, boobs, mentions of trauma
Notes: Yall, this one got away from me but I’m not mad about how it came out at all. She’s not edited but I sure as hell enjoyed writing her. I really wanted to write a reader who isn’t afraid to sass Steve since so much of the fan fic I see is a headstrong woman becoming some shy girl when she likes Steve, and as someone who literally bullies the people she loves, well…anywho. First time writing for Steve, second time writing and posting fan fic, and first time writing smut. Constructive criticism and comments are HIGHLY appreciated since I’ve rediscovered my addiction to writing. I really hope y’all enjoy it!!!
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GIF not mine
Steve Harrington was so over everything in his fucking life. He was sick of shitbag father. He was sick of his emotionless mother. He was sick of going to work every day, sick of Hawkins, sick of Indiana, sick of his life. 
He was over it—truly. 
Eyeing himself up and down and up again, Steve stood in front of his bathroom mirror, critiquing every inch of his body: his scrawny arms, his too skinny shoulders, the bags under his eyes, the scars along his abdomen, even his hair felt flat and volumeless. Steve was just over himself. 
Which is why he almost didn’t feel bad when he drove up to Indianapolis to take a train to New York City, and told no one. He did leave a note in case his parents showed up at home, but the chances of that were slim to none. He knew it stupid of him not to tell anyone where he was going, and he knew that he was going to get the scolding of his lifetime from his friends when he eventually called them from New York, but for now he simply just wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet that the train had brought him. 
He had brought his walkman with a cassette that was made for him a while ago. Currently, Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears played in his ears as the city pulled into view. He had only been there a couple of times before, but each time the sheer volume of it seemed almost overwhelming at first. It was so different from Hawkins, from Indiana as a whole really, which is why he loved coming to visit so much. He knew that since it was a week before the end of the school year for college kids, he would be back in Hawkins eventually, but truthfully, he just wanted a week or two with you all to himself. 
So imagine his surprise when you were actually in your apartment, and not in the library a block away, where he had assumed you’d be. He waited patiently in the lobby, watching the elevator doors, hoping that the next time it opened, it would be you. And it’s true, the third time really is the charm, since you walked out of the elevator in an oversized yellow sweatshirt (that may or may not have been Steve’s), and the sleep shorts you had owned for the past couple years, declaring they were your favorite. 
Your eyes lit up at the sight of him, shock and pure joy sprang across your face as your pace immediately picked up. The slippers you decided to wear down to the lobby were more or less halfway off your feet by the time you threw yourself into Steve’s arms. 
Steve dropped the duffel bag he had hastily packed next to his feet and wrapped his arms around you, as tightly as possible. 
“Hiya sweet girl.” He whispered into your hair, kissing your head softly. “Did ya miss me?” 
You snorted into his chest. “That’s a stupid fucking question Steven, we both know you’re smarter than that…fishing for validation I see.” You pulled away and placed a hand on his cheek, the smile never leaving your face. 
“Of course I missed you.” You whispered to him, as if it was a secret only meant for him to hear. “Why don’t we head upstairs, yeah? I can show you the billions of boxes I’ve acquired from moving in.”
Steve kissed your forehead before letting go of you to grab the duffel bag that was now on the ground. You moved towards the desk, and filled out the visitor log on the counter before taking Steve’s hand and bringing him towards the elevator. He squeezed your hand lightly and rubbed  his thumb back and forth. 
“I forgot that fancy miss NYU needed an elevator to get alllllll the way up to her new fancy apartment.” You had been extremely lucky. Your grades and work ethic both in high school, and in your first two years of college had paid off in scholarships and work studies, meaning that you barely even paid for your education. But this past semester, for the next consecutive school year, you had won a housing scholarship, which meant you got to move into the brand new apartment style dorms for upperclassmen for almost nothing a month. 
“Oh please Steve.” You rolled your eyes and scoffed playfully. “It’s an elevator that barely works, and I’m only on the twelfth floor. One of the girls I was telling you about, Jenna? She lives on the twentieth floor. It’s fucking hell when the elevator stops working.” 
The elevator door opened, and a couple other students came out, passing the both of you. Steve watches as you smile and say hi to them. 
“They’re my neighbors.” You explain and you push the button to your floor, and the doors close. 
As soon as they do, Steve’s lips are on yours. Your back hits the elevator wall as his knee slotted between your legs. You hummed softly as your arms snaked around his neck, one hair finding a way into his hair, fingers pulling gently on it. 
“I missed you too Handsome” You sighed as Steve slowly started to kiss up your jaw. You tugged on his hair again, and he let out what could only be described a one stop short of a whine. 
The elevator dinged, and he moved away from you, grabbing your hand. 
“Lead the way, gorgeous.” 
Steve would follow you to the ends of the earth. Hell he’s followed you to hell, and back again. He’s watched the very hand he’s holding swing an ax and chop off the head of demon dogs that had taken over Hawkins. He’s seen you rip apart a demobat with your bare hands simply because it looked at him. He’s watched you comfort the kids countless times, holding them when they needed more than just words. He’s watched you try to drink and smoke away the nightmares the two of you shared for years. But he’ll gladly settle for following down the carpeted hallway, stained with things he will never want to know about, towards her apartment.
It was just you, which means the entire apartment was pretty bare. The walls only had a few things hanging up on them, and you didn’t even have a couch yet. There were boxes everywhere, but not as many considering you had little to nothing that you brought to New York. But, it made Steve happy to see your personality shining through, despite the vicious nature of your high school experience. 
You took his bag from his hand and pointed towards the phone. 
“How’d you know?” 
“Well, Baby, don’t take this the wrong way, but while you’re never one to run away from those you care about, you are absolutely one to run away from your feelings.” 
Steve rolled his eyes and started to protest, but you just gave him a quick kiss to silence anything he might have to say. 
“Besides, I’d rather you call Robin and deal with her antics, then have her calling me and screaming in my ear for something I didn’t know about. Call her.” 
You kissed the side of his head before leaving the bedroom, to go to the bathroom, decidedly getting ready for bed now, even though it was barely 5 pm since you knew doing your nightly routine once Steve was here was barely going to happen. 
Steve had watched you leave before picking up the phone and dialing Robin’s house. It didn’t even ring twice before it was answered.
“Hello?”
“Hey Rob–”
“Steven Harrington I am going to DROWN you. What the fuck Steve we have been so worried about you, especially when you didn’t show up to drive Dustin and Lucas and Max to school, and then didn’t show up for work two days in a row. I mean Steve, you were missing for over twenty-four hours! Your car wasn’t at your house and we could hear the phone ringing in your house when one of us would call—Eddie even went and led a mini search party around Lover’s Lake. Steve we thought, we….” 
Steve pinched his nose while listening to Robin, letting her ramble before she tapered off. “Robs I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry anybody but I just need to be alone and just…”
“Where even are you Steve?” 
“....I’m uh, I’m…in New York.” 
“WHAT. Steve you’ve got to be fucking kidding me, that like, an eighteen hour train ride, let alone–”
“Rob–”
“The drive up to Indianapolis. I mean Steve we thought you died and instead you were just going on a long distance booty call? Are you fucking insane? Do you know how many people get kidnapped on trains–”
“Robin–”
“Why couldn’t you have just told us where you were going? It’s not that hard top pick up a phone I mean literally exhibit A right now–”
“Robin! Look, I'm sorry. I know what I did was kind of fucked but I just…It’s not a long distance booty call, you know that. I just needed to not be in Hawkins. I needed to be near her…” He could hear her roll her eyes. 
“Look Steve, I get it. I miss her too. But you couldn’t have waited another like, two weeks like the rest of us?” 
Just then, you walked back into the room; face washed and teeth brushed. You smiled and kissed his check. 
“No Robs. I couldn’t. I’ll see you in two weeks, or something.” 
“Ste–” He hung up the phone and turned to face his girlfriend. 
“How pissed is she?” You asked, turning to face him, watching him take a few breaths. Steve moved towards the windows, and opened one of them up. 
“Extremely, but they’ll all be fine.”
“When’s the last time you slept Steve?” You walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing the spot in between his shoulder blades. He let out a grunt of disapproval, but didn’t move since he enjoyed the feeling of your lips on his back. He breathed in the city air, and it was by no means the fresh air Hawkins used to once have, but it was different and that’s all that matters. 
“Do you still have any of the rolls Eddie gave you during Spring Break?” He muttered before turning around and holding you in his arms, kissing your head. 
“Oh so you only came up here to get free drugs?” 
Steve chuckled and shook his head. “No baby, that’s not–”
“To answer your question, yes I do. But I have some stuff from the guy who lives a couple floors up, and you cannot tell Eddie but it’s ten times better.” 
“You sneaky sneaky girl. Can’t believe the city turned you into such a deviant. Valedictorian of her high school class turned into a big city pothead. What would your mother say?” He fake scolded, giving you one of the looks he frequently gave to Dustin or any of the other kids when they did something even remotely out of the rhetorical line Steve had created. 
“If you want any, you could’ve said so Stevie.” 
The nickname made his heart flutter a little bit. “That’s not what I said.” 
“Yeah well now you owe me for calling me a delinquent.” 
“Actually it was deviant so now I know you don't even listen to m–” You cut him off by kissing his lips, except the smile on your face was too bright to give him a full kiss. 
“Do you want the goods or not Harrington…” 
Steve nodded and kissed your head one more time. “Yes please.” 
You pulled away from him, much to his dismay, but he watched as you went under your bed. Almost your entire body was completely under the bed, and he heard you moving a couple of things around. 
“Are you trying to get back to the Upside Down under there?” He joked as you pull yourself out from under the bed, a ziplock bag containing a couple of blunts in your hand. “Ha ha. Very funny. Hold this handsome.” 
“Aye aye Captain.” He gave you a mock salute and took the bag from your hand while you got to work. You grabbed the towel off of the back of your door, rolled it up, and shoved it against the bottom of the door before standing up, pulling a lighter off of your desk. 
“Okay gorgeous, get that sexy ass of yours out on the fire escape.” 
“Yes ma’am” Steve smiled at you before he clambered onto the fire escape. It was these moments he so desperately craved with you. If he could sit on a fire escape and watch the sunset with you every single night, he would go back to the Upside Down and fight Vecna all over again just to have this moment with you. He sat down against the railing, and let his legs dangle off the side. It seems they weren’t the only ones with this idea, but Steve sure as hell didn’t mind once your thigh was against his. The warmth of the sun mixed with the warmth of your body was more than enough to quell whatever had been going on in his mind. Once he noticed you were staring at him, a light blush tinged his cheeks. 
“What.” He grumbled, looking down through the grate at the people below. 
“Oh nothing, just observing my very handsome boyfriend, and trying to figure out what was clouding his head so badly that he literally dropped everything and disappeared for twenty four hours because he needed to be near me.” 
“What are you getting at lady.” he grumbled, pulling one of the joints, and carefully closing it back up before he chucked it back into your room. He reached behind him and almost closed your window all the way, just enough to squeeze some fingers under to get back inside. He placed the joint in his mouth, and turned to you. You flicked the lighter on, the flame reflecting in both of your eyes before you lit the end of it. 
Steve took a deep drag. He let it fill his lungs. He needed it to push away all of those doubts from before. After a moment, he slowly exhaled and handed you the joint, still looking forward. The view was really something, considering the fact that  if he stared directly across, it was into some elderly woman’s apartment with at least three different cats. But if he turned and looked down the rest of the street, he could see so much more of the city than he ever thought he would be able to. 
You looked at him, taking your own slow inhale of the joint. You placed it on the ashtray near the window and took his hand in yours. 
“Want to tell me what’s running through that pretty head of hair?” 
Steve scoffed before looking down at you. Your eyes were swimming, drowning really, in worry. You kept looking over all of his face before settling back on his eyes. “Steve…” Your voice had gotten softer, and you rubbed your thumb against his hand. “I need you to tell me why you’re here. I promise I’m not mad. I’m actually super relieved that you’re here, if I’m being so truthfully honest Steve. But I know you–I’m actually quite proud of how well I know considering you’re basically a brick wall—sorry. I’m rambling. But the main point is that you just up and left Hawkins. You traveled halfway across the country for me, and I am so flattered but baby, what’s going on?” 
Steve kissed your hand, before reaching back and grabbing the joint. He took another hit of it, enjoying the ambiance of the city surrounding him. 
“Baby please talk to me.” 
He placed the joint back in the ashtray before placing his hand on your thigh. The sun was getting closer to the horizon, and the temperature was slowly starting to cool, but just enough to make it bearable. If he looked at you, he might just break. 
But you weren’t having any of it. You took your free hand and gently guided his chin, subtly forcing him to look at you. 
“Steve. I need you to tell me what’s going on or I can’t help.”
“Maybe it’s nothing you can fix.” He rasped out, taking in a gasp of breath. The tears quickly started to build up behind his lash line. And he tried so hard to keep them at bay. He didn’t need to cry in front of you, he didn’t want to cry in front of you. “Fuck. Sorry.” He quickly wiped at his eyes a couple of times, desperately trying to keep it together in front of you. 
You quickly grabbed both of his hands and pulled them away from his face. “Try me baby. At least give me the chance to try and help with whatever is going on.” 
Steve bit his lip and looked away from you. “It’s so stupid. Fuck. It’s so fucking stupid. I just had this moment.” He started, “I had this moment yesterday and I was in the bathroom and I was just looking. I could see every single fucking thing wrong with me. It’s like I was making some sick fucking list or some shit. And-And I needed to get out so badly. I couldn’t stay in that house. That stupid house. I needed to leave Hawkins. If I stayed I–” He stopped himself, tears rolling down his cheeks, he finally looked at you. Steve took a couple of breaths before finally continuing. Her felt himself focusing on the way your thumb rubbed across his cheek, despite the light stubble adorning his chin. He looked at your eyes, which were patiently waiting for him to continue.  “I needed you. And I just couldn’t wait two weeks for some three day visit where I was barely going to get maybe three hours alone with you. I just–Fuck.” He placed his hands on your wrists, turning his head and kissing the palm of your hand. “I’m sorry.” 
“I’m still not sure what you're sorry about Steve.” You smiled sweetly at him, saccharine in every single way possible. He didn’t understand what he had done in the world to possibly deserve someone like you, but he was sure as hell not about to let you go. How could you just sit there and listen to him, and love him so sweetly, when he was so fucked up, inside and out. His body was marred with reminders of everything they had been through. His mind was thoroughly fucked up, and he quite literally runs away from himself and his friends and–
“Steve.” 
His eyes refocused on you. 
“Why don’t we go inside and lie down. I have a gut feeling you haven’t slept in at least twenty-four hours.” You had managed to kneel next to him, and still kept a hand on his cheek. Your thumb was wiping away any stray tears left over. Your other hand was slowly rubbing your thumb across his thigh, it could not have been the most comfortable of positions but somehow you made it look like it was nothing. 
Steve shook his head. “No, no. I’m fine I promise, shit.” He turned away from you, getting up. 
“Steven, I am not doing this right now. You ran away from your house, and traveled halfway across the country to come see me. You haven’t slept in a couple of days, clearly. I’m done being the kind loving girlfriend because that's not working. I need you to climb back through that window and change into whatever you need to for sleeping because you are not okay right now, and I’d rather be a little bitchy just to get you in my bed, then sit here while you pull away from the one person you came to see.” 
Steve pursed his lips and looked over at you. “You’re not gonna stop until you get me in your bed are you?” his joke only landed slightly flat as you huffed at him, the ghost of a smile on your face. 
“Move it or lose it Harrington.” 
He nodded and leaned down to grab the ashtray for you, but you had beat him to it. “You’re getting slow, old man.” 
Steve rolled his eyes before opening up the window back into your room, and climbing through it. You followed him through, placing the ashtray on your dresser. You turned around to close the window and the curtains, while Steve just sat on the bed and watch you. 
“I know you’re staring at me creep.” 
“Can’t help it. Sorry.”
You huffed at his antics before turning around and making your way towards him. You found yourself between his legs, arms wrapped around his neck, hands playing with the edges of his hair. “Steve you are far from perfect–”
“Gee thanks.” He gave you a weird look, but you continued anyway. 
“But, you are not some fucked up…thing, that can’t be fixed. In fact, you’re not some toy or whatever that is supposed to be fixed. You’re not a shattered figurine in your moms stupid little china cabinet or a bent golf club in your dad’s honestly weirdly large putter collection. You are just someone trying their best to get by and it is enough. Being fixed means there is this ideal of perfect that you have to be, but there is not stupid goal that you need to always be at Steve. You are absolutely amazing the way you are. You are braver than anyone I’ve ever met. You are sometimes too kind for your own good, constantly giving and giving to others when you have nothing else to give but parts of yourself. And you are one of the most selfless people on this earth. You have sacrificed so much Steve, and that doesn’t make you any less, or make you this broken…thing. It just means that you have lived a life that most people couldn’t even imagine, and you are still more than enough for the people who love and care about you.” 
Steve kissed you. 
And it was enough. 
“I love you.” He muttered against your lips, pulling you tighter against his body as he continued to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue sweep across your bottom lip. Hands roaming across bodies. Soft gasps for air. Neediness pouring out from the both of you.
You couldn’t get enough of his lips. It had only been a month since you had seen him last, kissed him last, but that was just far too long ago. You had been thinking about him while you wandered around your nearly empty apartment. Something felt like it was missing, and with Steve here, kissing you into bliss, the apartment felt full. It felt like everything was where it was supposed to be–always connected to his, giving life to one another.. Your body flush against as much as his as you could, hands pushing against his neck, to try and get impossible closer to the boy who holds your heart in his chest with his own. 
“I love you too Steve.” You manage out once the both of you part for more than  a semblance of breath. He smiled at that and kissed your jaw softly. “I missed you so much babygirl.” 
A soft hum left your mouth, enjoying the warmth of his lips as they slowly moved towards your ear, your neck. His hands had made their way to your hips, fingers gently pushing into the soft flesh.
“You have no idea how much I missed having you in my bed every morning.” Lips finding the soft spot behind your ear. “In my car.” He nipped at your ear, earning him a soft exhale that fell from your lips. “On my couch. In the pool.” He started to slowly kiss down your neck, sucking a bit harder in certain spots he had spent so many hours memorizing. “Mostly. I missed coming home, and getting to fall asleep in the same bed as you.” He sucked on the soft spot of your neck, right above your collarbone, and a soft moan tumbled from your lips as he did. You felt the smirk on his lips, but it was quickly replaced with Steve marking your neck, a hickey that would take too much concealer to hide.
“Fuck Steve.” Your body was glued to his, a slow heat rising through your veins. You shifted slightly, trying to squeeze your legs together, get some friction down where you needed it the most. “Please baby.” 
Steve blew softly on the mark he just left before kissing back up your neck to your lips. “Please, what, babygirl.” 
“Stop being such a tease.” You grumbled, running your hand through his hair, before grabbing some of it and gently tugging, eliciting a throaty moan from Steve’s pretty lips. He fucking loved when you did that. “When am I not?” He bit his lip as the two of you looked at each other. 
You shoved his chest just enough to get him sitting back down on the bed, so that you could climb up and straddle the boy. “If you want to be a tease, than I can do the same thing.” You whispered in his ear, earning a strangled sound coming from Steve’s throat. 
You slowly rolled your hips, feeling the bulge in his jeans grow larger at the contact. “I can tell how much you missed me Stevie.” There was that fucki9ng nickname again. It had him preening as you rolled your hips again. His hands immediately went to your waist, pushing you down and helping you grind against him. 
Your lips made their way to his neck, to his collarbone. “Baby take your shirt off.” You muttered at him, stopping your movements for a second to help him pull it up and over his body. Your hands immediately found their way to his chest, lips crashing back to his, desperate to get your hands all over his body as if you were touch starved, maybe you were. And Steve would completely agree with you. His was just not touching you enough. 
One of his hands made it around your waist to your back still guiding the way your clit rubbed against the bulge in his jeans. His other hand went in between the two and he slid it under your shorts. 
Your breath hitched and your hips stuttered, losing their rhythm a bit as Steve rolled his middle finger around your clit. He smirked as you closed your eyes and let out a moan, grinding your hips a little harder, starting to ride his fingers, his hand. 
“Stevie please.” You mumbled, resting your forehead on his shoulder, letting out another moan as he pushed your underwear to the side, letting his fingers ghost over your throbbing clit. 
“What Babygirl. What do you need? Tell me what you want. I want to hear it from you.” He whispered in your ear, slowly pushing two of his fingers further south to feel just how wet you were for him. 
“Oh baby…” 
You whined at his words. 
“I want you t-to touch me Stevie.” You moaned into his ear as he shoved his fingers further down. Your hips jolted as he ran his fingers up your pussy, letting him feel just how wet you were. He brought his hand out from under both of you and you whined again, this time in protest at the loss of his hand. 
“Is this all for me, sweet girl.” He squeezed your waist, making you sit up slowly and look at him, grinding a little more desperate now that he pulled his hand away. You watched as he stuck his fingers in his mouth, tasting you. Your jaw opened slightly, and your eyes darkened as he moaned, tasting just good sweet you were. 
“Fuck Steve. Stop being such a fucking tease.” You barely managed out before you shoved his chest hard enough that he fell backwards onto his elbows on your bed. He looked up at you, eyes blown wide with the thought of fucking you sensless. “Get all the way on the bed Steve.” 
Steve, with little to no hesitation scrambled back onto the bed so he was fully laying down across it. His elbows reach your pillows as he barely holds himself up, watching as you eyed the strained denim where his dick was practically screaming to be touched. 
Once you had decided he moved far enough away, You took off the yellow crew neck revealing the lack of bra underneath. Steve groaned as your nipples pebbled from the contact to the air, regardless of how warm it was in the apartment. He moved to sit up but you just shoved his chest, and he fell back on his elbows. Your body rolled slightly, unhappy at the loss of contact from Steve, but you wanted something, and you knew that if you asked Steve to get you the moon, he would steal a couple extra stars just in case, which is why you wanted to suck him off before you asked him. 
“Baby I wanna taste you.” 
Steve’s eyes closed and his breathing became staggered. “U-Uh yea baby, what..um. Whatever you want.” 
“I want you to watch me. But..” His heart started beating faster as he felt you palm him over his jeans. He let out a breathy moan. “You can’t touch me.” 
Steve’s eyes flew open and as you pulled any of the hair that had fallen in your face, out of it. “W-What. Baby I-”
You kept your hand slowly palming at his bulge as you moved up along his body to kiss hip lips. Your tits ghosted over his chest making him shiver at the faint contact, and making your breath hitch at the way the contact felt on your nipples. “If you don’t touch me baby, You get a prize.” You kissed him softly, a contrast to the way you had been talking to him before. You were asking him to trust you. He kissed back and nodded. “Y-yeah, baby. O-Okay.” He managed out before leaning up on his elbows again, to watch you. 
You let your hands rake down his chest, your touch leaving chills down his body, and made his dick jump, causing goosebumps all over his body. 
“Fuck gorgeous.” 
You smirked up at him before kissing the little line of his V that was peeking out from above his jeans, using one of your hands to pop the button. You managed to pull off his jeans and boxers in one pull, something you bragged about to your friends whenever they asked about your sex life, but that was neither here nor there. 
You both watched as his dick sprang free, hitting his stomach. The movement caused Steve to whine a bit. “Baby I’ve got you summing before I’ve even touched you.” You muttered to him, spitting into your hand before grabbing him. 
Steve lifted his hips into your hands, unable to stop himself. “F-Fuck babygirl.” He exhaled, watching as you licked the precum dripping down his dick. You moved your other hand down to his balls and squeezed them gently in your hand, watching as he tilted his head back and moaned. 
“You like that Stevie?” You smirked as he bucked his hips up, trying to resist the urge to fuck himself with your hand. You paused, waiting for him to make eye contact again. Once he managed to gain some semblance of his mind back, he titled his head up, chest rapidly rising and falling, looking into your eyes. The sheer control you had over him just made you hotter than possible. 
Slowly, you started moving your hand up and down, watching as he squirmed,  trying not to rush you. Eventually, you moved one of your hands up your body and slowly started palming at your own tits. Slowly rolling your nipple between your thumb and pointer finger, moaning at the feeling. Steve was about to lose his fucking mind. 
You were getting off watching yourself fuck him. 
You smirked at him once he realized what you were doing. “Tell me what to touch next baby.” 
Steve moaned loudly, and tilted his head back for a moment, trying to focus on anything other than the feeling of your hand on his dick and your hand on your tits, pleasuring yourself. 
“Tell me where to touch next Steve.” 
He managed to look back up at you, his hips slowly quickening as you continued to touch your chest. “W-Where do you–fuck princess–where do you want to be-be touched.” His eyes couldn’t leave your form as you licked your lips and slowly kissed down his dick, before slowly licking all the way up it again. 
“I wanna see how wet you are.” He managed out before he moaned again. “B-baby I’m not….” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m not gonna last much longer if you..” 
“I know baby.” You cooed as you continued to move your hand up and down his length. “But you’re such a good boy, you’re doing so good for me. Keep your eyes open.” 
Steve’s jaw dropped and his chest was rising and falling faster and faster. You were moving just slow enough, teasing just enough, to keep him on the edge. 
You let go of him, making him panic and open his eyes. “Baby please, fuck I’m so close pl—” But the words froze in his throat once he watched as you slowly trailed that same hand down your own body and rub your clit with your thumb, letting out a moan, just for him. His mouth went dry as you slowly stuck two fingers into that pretty little cunt of yours, moaning slightly as you did, before pulling them out, covered in your pretty little wetness, just for him. 
The sound that left Steves mouth was not human, as he watched you slather yourself around his dick, just to then slowly put him in your mouth, letting him almost bottom out in your throat. 
“Oh my god.” He moaned out. “Fuck, baby, fuck I’m gonna–” He cut himself off with a moan as you slowly started to bob on his dick, choking slightly everytime you took him all the way in. You squeezed his thigh softly to let him know it was okay before you moved your hand back to his balls, squeezing them every time he bottomed out in your mouth. The sight alone was enough to make him cum right then and there, but what did him in was the way you kept twisting your tongue around the tip, just making him sensitive enough. You felt his dick twitching as he fucked up into your mouth. 
“Baby I–I–, Fuck Baby I’m gonna cu–” His orgasm hit him like a fucking freight train as he came in your mouth. Steve moaned your name loudly in between the rest of the moans he could barely contain. You felt the cum dripping down the back of your throat as you held his hips down, still moving your head, letting him let it all out into your mouth. 
Once he had been pushed to the brink of overstimulation, and his dick started to soften, you sat up and slowly crawled over him, raking your eyes over the wreckage you caused. His hands found quickly wrapped around your body and pulled you flush against him. Steve was sure you could hear his heart beating out of his chest. You slowly raked one of your hands through his hair. 
You slowly kissed his jaw, waiting for him to come to. 
Steve eventually was able to open his eyes, and look down at you. “What’s my prize you fucking deviant.” He managed out, voice still wrecked from the sheer amount of sound that came out while he fucked your mouth. His hands were slowly roaming over your body, touching every inch of you. 
You laughed softly and kissed his jaw again as he squeezed your ass with his hand. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you kissed his lips softly. 
“You’re fucking beautiful.” he mumbled against your lips, listening as you sighed so prettily. 
“Baby if you’re too fucked out, I can save your prize for tomorrow morning.” You whispered against his lips, slowly rubbing your thumb across his pecs, humming as he squeezed your ass again. 
“No fucking way because if that’s what I got to earn a prize, then I want the fucking prize.” Pressing you against him, watching as you still squeezed your legs together. 
“I want to ride you...”
Steve looked at you, almost cautiously, “Of course baby…But We’ve…We’ve done that bef–”
“—Your face.”  
A quiet ‘oh’ left his mouth, while a blush spread across your face. 
“Don’t get all shy on me now princess.” His hand reach down and tilted your chin uo, forcing you to look back at him. 
“If you’re sure then who am I to deny such a fucking prize.” He licked his lips, lust blown eyes met yours as you let out the breathe you were holding. 
Steve watched as you nodded and lightly tapped against his chest, signaling for him to lay back down. You maneuvered out of your pajama shorts and underwear, tossing them across the room–finding them was a later problem. 
Your legs straddled over Steve’s chest, and his hands slowly slid up your thighs, letting his thumbs rub against the soft doughy flesh. Everytime he moved his thumbs up closer and closer, your hips would start to roll ever so slightly. 
“Steve…” You sighed out as he kissed up your thigh, before switching to the other one whenever he got too close. Except this time, you couldn’t reprimand him for teasing you, since you were his prize, and he could fuck you seven ways to heaven if he wanted. 
Frustration was starting to build up as he kept ghosting his lips over your cunt. Steve watched as your thighs started to shake, your chest heaving up and down, and your hair messily framing the most hypnotizing eyes, watching his every move, begging him to touch her. 
Steve could spend the rest of his life worshiping you–your thighs wrapped around his face, kissing up your stomach to reach your lips, leaving hickies spread across your chest like stars. So when he hooked his arms under your thighs, and pulled you down towards his mouth, he felt as if he was in heaven, hearing the yell of excitement leave your lips, quickly replaced with a moan as he slowly licked up your entire cunt. Flicking his tongue around your lip, and feeling your whole body react. 
Your hands shot out and clung to the headboard as Steve used his tongue to slowly draw figure eights across your clit. 
“Oh my god. Fuck. Steve—Baby please–” You let out a load moan when Steve shoved his tongue up into you, his nose brushing your clit. 
Your hips were moving as you began to ride his face. Steve just continued to lap up into you, moaning once he realized you were fucking yourself on his face. 
The vibrations ran straight through your body and to your tits. “Fuc-Fuck Stevie Baby.” 
Your moans only made his tongue move faster, before he brought one of his hands down and started rubbing your clit with his thumb. 
Your orgasm was quickly building in the pit of your stomach. You felt it grow as he moaned again when your thighs started to squeeze his head.
Moans and swears and gasps continued to fall from your mouth as you rode his mouth. 
Steve was completely drunk on you, lapping up your wetness as if he was a man starved. The noises you were making were borderline pornographic as he continued to fuck you with his tongue. 
“Fuck—Steve, fuck baby. I’m–Can I come Stevie fuck.” 
His brain short circuted for a moment as you continued to beg him to let you cum all over his face, make a mess of his lips and chin and chest. 
He looked up at you, eyes connecting with his. Just as you did, Steve quickly shifted your hips and sucked on your clit, while rolling it around with his tongue.
It was too much. 
You screamed his name as you came all of his face, hips spasming and he continued, pinning you down with his arms, not letting you move away from his mouth. You were the prettiest sight to see, cumming over him, like a goddess. 
He shifted slightly and started to fuck up into you with his tongue again, forcing you to start riding his mouth again, nose hitting your clit causing you to moan his name over and over again. Before the first orgasm was even over, the pressure of another one forced its way through your body.
One of your hands flew down into Steve’s hair, yanking on it roughly, causing him to moan into you. Your mouth opened but no sound came out as you gushed into Steve's mouth, pushing through your second orgasm, and him gladly drinking it up. 
This time, it was too much and your hips jerked away from his face, and onto his chest, soaking it. 
The two of you were panting as your body seized and shuddered, letting the pleasure roll over and over and over until it was bearable enough to look down at steve. 
His face glistened with your cum, dripping down his lips—it was the hottest sight you had ever seen. 
Neither of you said anything as you sat on his chest, body still shifting everytime another wave of your orgasm hit you, cum leaking down his chest. 
He just slowly placed kisses along your thighs, watching you come down from the intense high, thumb gently rubbing against your hip. 
“Don’t look at me..” You manage out quietly, a soft laugh following it. 
Steve kissed your thigh again. “Want me to let go of your legs baby?” 
“Not yet.” was his answer, and he complied, just watching as you slowly finished coming down. 
“Mmmkay.” You whispered and slowly lifted yourself off of his chest, and moved your leg around so you could lay down next to Steve. 
Steve sat up quickly, and kissed you, fervently but softly, letting your body relax. His lips didn't leave yours as he slowly finished laying you down. 
Eventually steve broke off the kisses and got off the bed to wipe you off his chest. 
The second your head hit the pillow, your eyes were closing and sleep was edging closer and closer.
Steve watched as your breaths started to even out and kissed your forehead before wandering off and locating the bathroom. He smiled as he switched on the lights, and the mirror in front of him lit up. He dug through one of the boxes, eventually finding a towel and using it to clean up your messy adventure, but looking at himself in the mirror.
Maybe everything was just the way it was supposed to be, maybe he was fucked up and flawed and his body was wrecked with scars, but—
“Steve?” He heard your voice carry through the apartment, pulling him from his moment.
You watched as he walked back into the bedroom.
“Are you okay?” You had made your way under the covers of your bed, eyes narrowing at his prolonged a scene from your bed.
“I’m okay babygirl. How are you doin’?” He slipped under the covers and pulled you into his chest, arms wrapped snuggly around your back.
Your lips kissed his neck softly before you Redred your forehead on his collar.
“You should move in.”
Steve is sure he misheard you, but when you look up at him with those eyes, he knows you’re dead serious.
Maybe everything was perfectly fine, maybe he was perfectly okay.
“I’d love nothing more babygirl.” He whispered, kissing your forehead, watching as you smiled contently, starting to drift off to sleep.
And suddenly, it was quiet, except for the soft inhale and exhale of your breath. But this time, instead of everything wrong, all he could think about was how right everything was.
And for the first time, in a long time, Steve Harrington was looking forward to what his everything could be.
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luveline · 2 years
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May I request an imagine with Steve/Eddie where they visit girlfriend (reader) and see that shes using there shirt/jacket as a pillow case?🥺
this is the sweetest idea ever and i thought steve would find it so cute thank you for requesting! 1k fem reader :3
Steve hasn't seen you in four days and six hours when he knocks your door, incompatible schedules solely to blame. He's sick as a dog on your stoop waiting for you to answer, a bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. 
You open the door and he watches with an aching chest as your lips turn up into a beaming smile. "Steve!" you say, almost tripping over the threshold in your rush to get arms around him. 
He chuckles and hugs you back with one arm holding the flowers away from you, the closeness of your body an instant relief. He takes in all your smells and softness, your shampoo and body lotion, the heady scent of perfume as he pushes his nose into the space behind your ear. 
You make a small breathless sound as he squeezes you and try to squeeze him tighter, an evil giggle bubbling out of you as your arms become a vice. 
"Ouch," he pretends, patting your back. "Alright, enough with the squeezing, popeye." 
"You started it," you say cheerily. 
He pulls you away from his neck. "Lemme look at you." 
You oblige, chin jutting up, eyes half lidded as you pose for him. He eats up the details of your pretty face hungrily, wondering if it's possible for someone to get more attractive in a hundred and two hours. It's definitely likely. 
"You're still pretty?" he asks. "I thought we agreed you were gonna stop." 
"I didn't agree to anything of the sort. What's behind your back?" you ask, practically glowing. 
He presents the flowers gladly, his arm aching from being all pretzeled up. You gasp loudly though he knew you'd felt them during your aggressive hugging. 
"These are for me?" you ask, taking them into your hands. 
"Nah, my other girlfriend." 
You glare at him for about two seconds and then you're smiling so hard he thinks your cheeks must ache with it, grabbing for his hand to pull him inside.
"I've missed your sarcasm," you say, and it's a discredit to Steve that he has no clue if you're being sincere or otherwise. 
You pull him straight to the kitchen and pull a vase down from atop one of the cabinets. 
"We're gonna be late for the movie," Steve says. 
"Sorry, I just have to get these in water. Actually, I'm rescinding my apology. It's your fault for buying flowers." 
"And I never will again," he threatens with little heat and even less honesty. 
"Uh-huh," you say, arranging the flowers nicely in the small glass vase. "Oh, I don't have my purse." 
"I'll get it." 
"Would you?" you ask, relieved, fully focused on the bouquet, moving flowers around to make them look best. 
He's fast up the stairs and into your bedroom, a familiar place that smells like all his best memories. Your sheets are rumpled and there are clothes everywhere, perfumes and deodorants and skincare strewn over your vanity. Steve doesn't know where to look, eyes panning over the room twice before he spots your discarded purse on the floor by the side of your bed. 
He bends down to grab it and his eyes zero in on your pillow. He reaches out, rubs his hand over material that he knows well. 
You've tucked your pillow inside one of his t-shirts. He feels glued in place, feet refusing to move as he takes it in, as he imagines your sleeping face pressed against it. 
He feels an incredible and heart aching rush of affection for you, and then an overwhelming swell of joy. He's loved. He's very, very loved. He thinks of your hair tie on his wrist even now, how his eyes dart to it over and over and over while he's working and how he refuses to take it off, even though each reminder of you is a melancholy stab to the chest when he can't see you. 
Your footsteps up the stairs. "Did you find it? I finished all the flowers. Thank you, Steve, really, they're so beautiful, I-" 
You're cut off by his arms around you again, your feet lifting off of the ground as he pulls you up and in, his arms under yours, his hands gripping your shoulders likely too tight. You cup his head with your forearms. 
"This is nice," you murmur, rubbing your cheek against his temple. He takes a handful of deep breaths.
When he sets you down he doesn't let you go – he chases you, your back bending as he tries to pull you impossibly closer. 
You're quiet for a little while, the two of you standing and hugging, breathing in the other. Then, "Steve? Is everything okay?" 
He pulls away, hands on either side of your throat to hold you still, knowing what he's gonna ask will have you averting your eyes. 
"You're using my shirt as a pillow case?" he asks. 
Like he'd assume your eyes widen and then close almost all the way. You turn your face from him. "Uh, maybe?" 
"Y/N," he says. 
"I know it was only a few days but I missed you so much, and it smelled like you, and I was supposed to take it off, I swear I was going to…" you ramble. 
Steve takes your warmed cheek into his hand. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip. There needs to be a word, he thinks, to describe this feeling. To want to give her anything she asks for. 
He drops his forehead gently into yours, his eyes closing, indulging in you. He doesn't need to see to know where your mouth is and after some racing thoughts about your general loveliness he pushes into it firmly with his own. You return his kiss, your gloss sticky lips parting eagerly as you bring your hand to his chest, your palm over his heart. 
He leans in hard for one desperate second, exhaling what feels like a year's worth of tension against your skin before pulling back. 
"I missed you," he says, head bobbing vehemently for emphasis.
"I missed you more," you say, hand roving up his collar, fingertips brushing lightly over his neck. 
"Not likely," Steve says, moving in for another quick kiss. 
"Were you sleeping with my clothes?" you ask him pointedly.
"Not your shirt," he says in a smug tone, joking, anything to make you laugh or embarrassed or both. 
There's something about the press of your lips when he teases you that drives him crazy. You burst into scandalised laughter like he'd hoped. Steve feels even more love sick than he had earlier.
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fizzigigsimmer · 7 months
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That spring, Steve’s mom finally gets tired of getting cheated on and files for divorce. His dad is a dick about it and hires a bunch of lawyers to ensure that she basically leaves with nothing. Worse, he fights her for custody of Steve and taunts her with the fact she’ll never see him again - because why would any teenager want to give up everything, just to rough it out with their train-wreck of a mother? But jokes on him cause the judge basically leaves it up to Steve, and Steve would rather stomp on his own balls than get stuck with that asshole. Even if it means having to leave the big house and his car and starting over in a new place where nobody knows him.
Steve never met his mother’s side of the family in California. All he really knows is that the family disapproved of her marriage. There’s a story about his aunt coming to visit once on his birthday when he was like five, but she got in a fight with mom and she’s never been back. So Steve doesn’t even think about them when he tries to imagine what he and his mom are going to do on their own. He imagines her selling her car and the other gifts dad put in her name over the years to rent a decent apartment somewhere, maybe in Indianapolis or Chicago.
He’s really shocked one night when she announces that she’s been in touch with her family, and she she asks him about how he feels about moving to California to some sleepy little town called Moonwood. She tries to enthuse him about it by going on about how beautiful it is there, right at the edge of the national forest, but Steve’s more concerned with the fact that they’ll be living with people who hate them - and in the sticks too! Its two hours to the nearest mall! How’s he gonna find a job in this place? And what about school?
But Steve looks around at the hotel they’ve been staying in and the paper thin smile she fixes on her face to try and hide her broken heart from him and how fucked everything is, and he just wants her to be okay.
They move to California, and the one bright side is the relatives turn out to be not all that hateful. There’s awkward tension and a shit load of history there for sure, but from the minute they pull up to his grandparents house the door is thrown open and they’re welcomed with open arms. His grandpa seems a little stiff at first, but Steve gets the impression its because he doesn’t know what to do with himself as Steve’s mom and his grandma hug each other and cry. The weirdest part is when they start speaking in a language Steve’s never heard his mother use before.
Later his aunt tells him it’s lythan, but she just laughs when Steve asks if that means they’re from Lithuania. Apparently lythan is a very old language that started in romania and is only spoken today in two places. Here, and some village in romania that an ancestor immigrated from.
None of this is making sense to him but he’s just happy his mother seems happier and that he has help taking care of her, since she’s still pretty broken up about the divorce. She’s always been a passionate woman his mom. The kind of person who believes in soulmates and love at first sight. She’s always told him that when he meets the one for him he’ll know it in an instant and that he should hang on to that person with his whole heart. Which sounded great and all when he was a kid, but honestly just makes him sad now when he looks at how things turned out with her and his dad.
The first week after they get there, Steve cant sleep and catches his mother, his grandmother and his aunt talking in the kitchen late one night. He overhears her say that she knew it was a risk being with his dad, but that she’d have regretted it more if she didn’t follow her heart. Even if she wasn’t the one for Steve’s dad the way he was for her, she’d always be grateful because she has Steve. But she doesn’t want him to grow up feeling like he has to change who he is and like he always has to be the one giving to someone else just to be loved.
For the first time since the divorce Steve is almost mad at her - wants to shout it’s too late mom! - but the feeling passes as quickly as it comes. He’s just sad, for them both. But he hopes things will be okay here and that this can be a new start. It could be worse right? At least he gets a room to himself. Yeah it’s kinda weird that his aunt still lives at home and nobody seems to have a problem with that, or is talking about what his moms plans are like they expect that she’ll just be there forever now. But he figures they’re all just focused on making up for lost time right now.
And his grandma says that people in Moonwood stay close to home anway, and that most of them spend their whole lives there without leaving. It shocks him to learn that she’s never been further outside of town than to the edge of the national forest.
His second worry, about finding a job, gets resolved by his his grandfather - who runs a soda shop on the beach. There’s not much traffic durring the off season, but in summertime the redwoods draw a fair number of tourists. Steve’s kept very busy scooping up ice cream and making root beer floats while he flirts with the gap year girls who come through in groups, to backpack through the forest. He’s just turned eighteen and he’s never had much of a problem picking up girls so he has a few flings. He gets invited to parties on the beach and ends up doing a lot of hiking that summer in his downtime. But then fall rolls around and with fewer and fewer groups of tourists passing through Steve finds himself at loose ends.
School starts up again and he realizes that maybe it was a mistake not to put more of an effort into meeting local kids and making a few connections beforehand. Schiller High is over in the next district, and Moonwood is so far out the kids have to be bussed in. Steve’s a little nervous about starting a new school in his senior year but he tells himself it’s just one year. One year and then he has no idea what to do with himself after that, but at least he won’t be forced to attend school anymore. Still, he begs his mom to let him take their car to school the first day so that he doesn’t have to be the oldest kid on the bus. He’s pretty sure that’s a social constant even out here in the middle of nowhere.
Schiller seems pretty normal at first. It’s about the same size as his school back in Hawkins was. The school receptionist calls in some guy named Tim to show him around his first day and make sure he gets to all his classes. Tim’s alright, but Steve can see the neon nerd sign blinking above his head and plays it cool. He’s not an asshole or anything, he just doesn’t want to close any doors before getting the lay of the land. Steve just wants an easy year and he’s not gonna get that if he’s hanging out with a bully magnet - sorry Tim. Plus, Steve’s not exactly thrilled about the way Tim talks about ‘moonies’ - which is apparently what other people call people from Moonwood, instead of hicks or whatever. Steve doesn’t bother telling Tim that he’s technically a moonie now too.
His aspirations to plant himself firmly in the middle of the student social hierarchy and go unnoticed for the next ten months involve finding a group - or a pack as his grandfather weirdly put it when he assured Steve he’d find his in no time and start to feel more at home once school started. He asks Tim about the school’s athletic teams because being on a team with a bunch of other guys will basically do the work for him. There’s a swim team that Steve is definitely going to try out for. He’s not sure about basketball. He only got started back in Hawkins because his dad thought it was manlier than ‘playing’ in the pool. But he likes it okay, and Tim says the Schiller team has actually won a few regional titles.
Even though it’s his last year Steve figures it can’t hurt his college applications to be on a winning team for once. He probably won’t to start or anything but he thinks he has a good shot of seeing some playing time.
“I would stick with swimming if I were you. There’s no way you’re getting on the team.” Tim laughs. “The head coach is a moonie and he only ever picks guys from Moonwood.”
That doesn’t seem very legal, but that’s not Steve’s problem. He figures Tim is probably exaggerating anyway, just salty that the coach is giving a little extra focus to the guys from the less privileged side of the tracks.
Until Steve actually sees Billy and some of the other guys from the team.
It’s just before lunch when Steve and Tim have stopped by Steve’s locker. A blond kid in a red and white letterman jacket appears at the mouth of the hall, flanked by two other guys. It’s like something out of a movie the way the hallway clears for them and the other students gaze at them with awe filled expressions as if they’re watching a parade of olympians pass through.
“That’s Billy Hargrove. He’s captain of the basketball team.” Tim answers the unspoken question in Steve’s glance. “Don’t get on his bad side. He’s pretty much the top dog around here.”
Steve doesn’t need Tim to tell him Billy runs things around here. The guy is built like the terminator. Like someone who has ascended above mere mortals and wouldn’t be out of place among the gods. He’s built like a man, Steve finally settles on with an prickle of embarrassment hot in his chest. Steve’s a guy and he doesn’t go out of his way to look at other guys a lot, but he appreciates the things about them that are enviable.
Only envy is the furthest thing from Steve’s mind when he first sees Billy. It’s like time slows for Steve. His mouth gets dry, and he thinks to himself that Billy Hargrove is beautiful, and he wonders what that’s like. Steve knows he’s good looking. This isn’t some self depreciation bullshit, it’s just inexplicably different somehow the way he looks at Billy and thinks he finally understands what real beauty is. The way he instantly wants to get closer to him, reach out and touch. Billy has none of the unfinished awkwardness of a teenager. He’s a poster child for physical perfection that Steve is convinced walked off of a poster taped up on somebody’s wall, and has no business walking down the halls of an American high school. Seriously. How is this guy real?
He spares a quick glance for the other two guys with Billy - Dave & Chet - just long enough to confirm that he’s fucked. If these are the kinds of guys they’ve got on the team, Steve has no chance of seeing anything but a bench all year.
Billy and the other two stop at a locker not far from Steve’s on the other side of the hall, but not before Billy’s gaze does a casual sweep around the hall - very much a king surveying his kingdom. Steve fully expects that gaze to pass right over him just as unimpressed as it does everyone else, but to his surprise Billy’s gaze locks with his and sticks.
A little tingle dances up Steve’s spine and he sucks in a breath. He can’t tell what color Billy’s eyes are from this distance - at first he thinks they are something light, like a blue or grey, but then the corner of Billy’s mouth tilts up in a smirk and the light hits them a certain way and they look almost gold as he runs his tongue over some very white fangy teeth. Jesus the guy has some chompers on him.
Steve’s not afraid of a fight but it’s profoundly unsettling to have some dude literally licking his chops at him like he can’t wait to take a bite of the fresh meat. He’s pretty sure he just landed himself on Billy Hargrove’s shit list and he has no idea why. Fuck his life.
But he figures there’s nothing he can do about it but ignore it and hope that Billy decides he’s not worth the trouble. Steve turns to shut his locker, sending the message with his back that he doesn’t care about the dude giving him the crazy eyes and that Billy doesn’t intimidate him. His sweaty palms tell a different story, but that’s for Steve and only Steve to know.
As he leaves, he can feel Billy’s eyes burning into his back like lasers.
So much for going unnoticed for the year.
Now with Part 2
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apomaro-mellow · 1 month
Text
Hot for Teacher(s) 6
Part 5 / AO3 Link
Steve was too in shock to do anything at first. Then he grabbed Eddie by the shirt and pulled him in close, pressing his nose to his neck where his scent was strongest. Eddie did a very good job of keeping still while an omega he was crazy for sniffed at him so intently.
"It really was you", Steve said after a moment, still so close that Eddie could feel his lips move. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
Eddie's eyes bugged out of his head. "Me!? Why didn't you? You're the one who was all 'have we met before?' You could've-"
"I didn't know! I mean, I didn't remember!", Steve exclaimed as he moved back from Eddie's personal space. Then he frowned. "I was delirious from pushing out an entire human and nearly falling to rejection sickness. What's your excuse for not recognizing me?", he crossed his arms.
"Baby", Eddie smiled fondly and Steve kind of hated how he was starting to melt at that. "In your words, you had just pushed out a whole human. You were looking rather...disheveled", he put gently.
Steve's face had been red and swollen from the effort, glistening with sweat. His hair either stuck to his forehead or a mess of a nest, sticking in the hair. How was he supposed to equate that person with the one in front of him? It had been a day of high stress for both of them. Eddie had just come from visiting his uncle after a bad accident when a nurse asked him in a rush if he was available to assist an omega giving birth.
"My mom was kind of in a similar situation, so I'm told", Eddie said. "My dad had been arrested the night before. Luckily she was able to get a hold of Wayne so he could be with her."
He could still remember the sour scent in the room, nothing like the lovely way Steve smelled now. Even back then, he'd been in disbelief that there hadn't been anyone that locked him down. Not officially, anyway. And still hadn't. Then Eddie realized he could be the one.
"You know I always kinda wondered what happened to the guy and his kid. Glad I got to find out", he beamed. "Did you ever think about the mysterious alpha?"
"Honestly? Yes", Steve replied. During the worst of him and Billy, it would creep up from the back of his mind. "I didn't know anything about him besides the fact that he'd been there when I needed him. And sometimes I'd wonder if he was like that all the time."
Eddie leaned in a little. "And?"
"And, I found out he's been my son's teacher, guiding him through a formative year of his life incredibly well. He's better than I could have ever imagined."
Unable to help himself, Eddie grabbed Steve's face in a careful hold and kissed him. Steve answered with just the right amount of softness, but then pushed him down onto the couch. Eddie let out a small whimper when Steve pushed his leg between his, brushing against him. Steve grinned against his lips and sat up with a mischievous look.
"You took such good care of me. Time to return the favor."
"Holy shit", Eddie breathed out as he watched Steve slide down his body.
Steve unzipped the alpha's pants and opened them up, mouthing and licked at his cock through his boxers, getting it obscenely wet. Eddie was fully hard in record time. One hand gripped the back of the couch. Steve pulled him out and Eddie wasn't even able to look down as he felt that alluring heat surround him. He knew he'd cum instantly.
But the wet sounds on their own were too much too, so he finally ventured a look. It was a near mistake because the moment he did, his eyes met Steve's and he bucked into his mouth.
"Sorry! Sorry", he said, not meaning to choke the other.
Steve just smiled as he pulled off and licked his lips. "Can you do something for me?"
Eddie just nodded dumbly. Steve could ask him to commit arson. Not that he wouldn't do that anyway, but still.
Steve took the hand that wasn't clutching the couch and put it to his head. "Can you keep my hair out of my face?" He didn't wait for an answer as he put his mouth back on Eddie, sucking away.
Later on, Eddie would think about how the products in Steve's hair did a pretty good job of keeping his hair out of his face and that he'd asked for his own reasons. Eddie thought he was doing well though, fingers digging into his hair and holding it back while Steve went to town on his dick, moaning around it like he was desperate for it.
Eddie was right on the edge when Steve pulled off, suddenly remembering something. He stood up, ignoring the alpha's whines as he pulled him up.
"We've gotta go to the bedroom."
"Oh, yeah, hell yeah." Eddie was all for that.
Steve smirked as he led him by the wrist. He had just remembered that if he had sex with Eddie on the couch there was a chance Shawn would smell that as well. Fragrance spray could only cover so much.
Eddie was so sweet through the whole thing, seeming to not believe that he got to touch Steve like this. Steve encouraged him through the whole thing, wanting to be touched, wanting to be loved on and marked up.
-----------------
The next morning. Steve's alarm went off, reminding him that he had an alpha to get out of the house before his son got back home. In a flurry of clothes, Eddie got dressed. Steve threw on a robe that went down to his knees, preserving his modesty. He followed Eddie down the stairs, sharing about three kisses at the door before Eddie took off.
He pulled out of the driveway and left at nearly the same time that Robin could be seen walking Shawn from her house. At the last second Steve remembered the spray the living room and kitchen. He had just enough time to light a scented candle before Robin was walking in without knocking.
"The stork has come with your baby delivery~!"
"I'm not a baby", Shawn giggled.
"Oh but you'll always be my baby", Steve pinched his cheeks playfully. "Did you get breakfast yet?"
Shawn nodded. "We made our own smoothies!"
"Then you have just enough energy to finish up your homework", Steve decided.
Shawn tried to negotiate going to the park if he finished but Steve sent him on his way because he was seeing the look on his friend's face and thought it should not be addressed around the ears of children.
"I thought you were done slutting around", Robin grinned, eyeing the robe.
Steve rolled his eyes. "It's not slutting when it's just one guy and I'll take you to court on that. Let me shower and I'll tell you everything."
As he washed up, he thought briefly whether or not Shawn should know. He quickly decided that he would ask Eddie first if he wanted Shawn to know that they had actually met much earlier. Once out of the shower, he texted the question to him, understanding if the alpha wanted to keep it a secret for now.
Just because Eddie had been there for the birth of his child didn't mean this needed to suddenly turn serious. They certainly couldn't be too open about it when Shawn was still his student. Parents and staff would talk. And he didn't want his kid getting caught in the mix.
Eddie's reply came a couple of hours later, when they were at the park. Shawn had successfully negotiated.
Eddie: What do you want me to be for you and Shawn?
Part 7
Tag Team
@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog @hippieg1rl420
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unclewaynemunson · 1 year
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prompt idea! :D
steve being a poet and eddie being a songwriter. they both reference each other in their works and no one has put it together yet.
( also hi you're awesome )
Oooh anon I love this, this is such an intriguing concept bc the possibilities are ENDLESS with this one! I hope you like the direction I ended up taking it in :) (and thank you so much for dropping this in my ask box! <3 )
EDIT: I wrote an expanded version for this one and it's also on ao3 :D
---
Jeff was the one who introduced Eddie to Ronan Right. His mom was moving and when Eddie visited to help, he found his friend with his nose buried in a small book that was nearly falling apart in his hands.
“What's that?” Eddie asked, flopping down next to Jeff among the boxes.
“My mom's favorite poet,” Jeff mumbled, barely glancing up from the page.
And as soon as Eddie got a chance to pick up the book from where Jeff had left it, he was hooked. He was no help at all for Jeff's poor mom, completely engrossed in poem after poem, reading them again and again and again.
Eddie liked reading poetry to get some inspiration for his songwriting, but a lot of poetry had this atmosphere of pretentiousness around it. This didn't. It was surprisingly simple. To the point, with a rawness to it, mostly short poems that had a simplicity with which they managed to cut right to the heart of things.
Ever since that day, Ronan Right became Eddie's biggest source of inspiration. He'd never start working on new songs before reading one of Right's poems first. And whenever he got stuck on his lyrics, he'd pick up one of Right's books – and every time, without fail, he'd find something in there to help him find the right words.
---
When people would ask Steve what inspired him, his answer was always the same, always simple: music. Most people probably assumed that by that, a poet would mean classical music or maybe jazz of some kind. They were wrong: Steve Harrington, professionally known as Ronan Right, liked to blast the most screamy metal imaginable whenever he was writing – much to the discontent of his poor neighbors. He didn't care much for lyrics, it was all about the sound for him: about volume, about harmonies, about a combination of ingredients that somehow managed to flip a switch inside of his brain that unlocked the more creative ways to look at words.
His favorite band was called Corroded Coffin. Something about them stood out in the long list of metal bands he loved to listen to. It was something about the sound of the singer's voice, about the guitar riffs, that simply made sense to him, made the words that he was looking for bubble up to the surface naturally.
He got halfway through the first song on Corroded Coffin's newly released album, when he froze at his desk. He didn't care much for lyrics, but those words... There was something familiar about them.
He replayed the song from the beginning and started frantically flipping through the pages of one of his earliest poetry bundles... Yeah, there definitely was something familiar about those lyrics.
They weren't copied, exactly. It could just be a coincidence.
But the album kept playing on and Steve kept getting distracted by the lyrics because there was so much familiarity in them. It wasn't like the singer was stealing from him, it wasn't even like he was taunting his copyright or anything like that... It was like he was building on Steve's words. Like Steve had laid a foundation that had sparked Corroded Coffin to make something beautiful. Like the two of them shared a mind, a soul, an inspiration.
And Steve wrote the best poem he had ever written, in one go, that day.
---
More bundles followed. More albums were released. And they kept interlocking with each other, one causing the other to do something new, try something different, figure something out.
Ronan Right was still an obscure poet, well-respected but not mainstream enough for bigger successes. Corroded Coffin was still an obscure metal band, praised by the connoisseur but too experimental to ever get anywhere bigger than the verge of the metal scene. The only one who noticed the textual similarities between the two, was Jeff's mother. She'd smile her knowing smile and chuckle quietly, delighting in her own private understanding.
---
A new book was about to get published. Steve had to drive down to Chicago to meet with his publicist and talk some things through, but his car was in the shop so he got on a train instead. The meeting went well, Don't try to be a hero officially got the green light, and feeling content, Steve pulled out the latest Corroded Coffin cd to put in his walkman as soon as he got on the train back home.
“Hey,” the guy opposite him said with a smile and a nod towards Steve's walkman, just before Steve could put on his headphones. “Corroded Coffin, nice.”
“You know them?” Steve asked, taken by surprise, a matching smile creeping onto his own face.
“Yeah.” The guy chuckled. “Yeah, I know them.”
Sunlight fell through the window and shone on the big rings around the guy's fingers, catching Steve's eye – and pulling his gaze towards the tiny book he was holding in his hands.
“Hey,” he said, “Ronan Right, nice.”
The guy stared at him for a few seconds, something like disbelief in his big brown eyes. “You know him?!”
Steve felt laughter bubble up in his chest. “Yeah, I know him.”
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fine line
steve rogers x reader summary: steve returns from time traveling back to his old life. will you forgive him? a/n: time travel is different than canon. he just spends weeks back in his old life, in turn misses out on months in the current timeline.
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Steve Rogers was many things but a coward? He never thought he had it in him, but as you drew closer into the room and than were suddenly right there in front of him - he wanted to run away. How beautifully relaxed you look, as if the last time you two saw each other wasn't heartbreaking or gut wrenching - the look of grief on your face when he said he had to go. That he couldn't stay with you and needed to go back to his first life.
The tears in your eyes, the trembling in your hands...he never forgot it and when he left back in time, to his time - he knew it was a mistake the moment he stepped foot into a life that he no longer fit in. He came back but traveling through time brought different rules of logic. The few weeks he spent there, meant months for here and now he was seeing you for the first time since saying goodbye. He had returned a week ago and the moment he stepped off the transported, he felt at home. Sam and Bucky had come to see him when they heard the news from Bruce and the reunion was short lived when he asked about you.
"She's been out in California."
"California?"
That's where he was now, standing in the middle of a lab. Bucky had made the trip with him and set up the meeting but you had thought it was a visit from Bucky. The two of you had become closer over the last months since Steve's departure. He had become like a brother to you. So when he had called and said he'd be in California for a few days, you were elated and made arrangements for him to come by the lab you now worked in.
Except it wasn't Bucky who you saw standing there and the excitement of seeing your friend grew stale, but a feign calmness washed over your face and you walked further into the room. Than you were standing in front of Steve Rogers in all his glory and complicated beauty. So many emotions raged through your heart and while you wanted to allow the angry to overrule them all, you couldn't.
How pathetic you felt in that moment when he finally spoke. "I'm back."
"Missed the internet, huh? I can't imagine life without it," you smiled, moving toward the table to your left. Picking up a tablet, you pretended to look over some emails and drew your back to him. He shifted behind you but didn't move closer, instead he began to sprout out a long winded apology. He seemed to speak quickly, almost afraid to miss anything that needed to be said.
"I should have never left..."
Your fingers trembled against the screen of the tablet.
"I was just existing there, but I realized I couldn't just go back to my old life...."
Tears began to swell and you gripped the tablet so hard it began to hurt.
"I'm not that person anymore, I haven't been the same person since I've met you. I -" Steve's voice faltered for a brief moment but he continued, moving a step closer to you. "I wish I could take back that day, I should have never left and I know I don't deserve it, but I just want another chance. Please, sweetheart, give me another chance and I'll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you."
His words shook away the remaining anger in your body and you crumbled down against the table, but he was there in seconds, holding you up. Arm wrapped around the front of your stomach, Steve held you up against his chest as you sobbed. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder blade and whispered that he would leave if you wanted him too. "If you need to never see me again, I'll do it..."
The thought brought you back to your senses and you turned in Steve's arms to face him. His eyes took in the hurt expression on his face and he could only hold your face in his hands, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.
"You have to know something..." the something was Peggy Carter and you braced for the worse. "I didn't go see her, when I went back. I just couldn't do it, I thought that was what I should do but I ended up wandering my old neighborhood. I went back to see where Bucky and I used to run around, I did a lot of people watching. I did a lot of missing you."
"I missed you too," you smiled softly, tears falling down your face. Steve wiped them away and pulled you into an embrace.
"I know it's going to take time for you, but I will wait as long as I need to.."
Wrapping your arms around his waist, you looked up at the man you had loved and still love, even if every fiber of your brain told you not to. That he had left you for a world that casted him aside and for a woman, a woman you could never live up to. But here he was, begging for your forgiveness. For another chance and you could only think of a conversation Bucky and you had months ago...
"He had to go, you know that right?"
"His life was here."
Bucky sighed and brought his arm around your shoulder, bringing you in to his side. Resting your head against him, you stared out into the small pond.
"He thinks he needs to go back and live a life that he was meant to but he'll be back, I bet you a pitcher of beer." Bucky smiled down at you. You appreciated his attempt at lightening up the mood, but he squeezed your shoulder when you asked why he thought that Steve would return. "Because you're here."
"Okay."
Your voice was so meek, Steve looked at you with an intense gaze filled with anticipation and nerves. "Okay?"
Nodding, you reached up and touched the side of his face. His eyes fell closed - breathing for what seemed like the first time in weeks. Then you said his name and he opened his eyes, and he knew he was lucky to be given such a chance.
"My instincts want me to run away. I should run away, because you broke my heart, Steve. You have to know that otherwise it will become this thing between us and I don't want anything else to come between us."
His heart sank but he knew you were just being truthful and he deserved to hear it all. He knew he had a lot to make up for and there was a long road to recovering your broken heart but it was a challenge he was more than up for.
"I know," he whispered, sliding his hands up your neck. He held you gently, eyes gazing into yours. "I promise you, I will never leave you again. I will fight for us - you know how much I love a good fight."
Steve smiled and you laughed, shaking your head as his lips moved down against yours. He kissed you hard, longing, arms around your waist and bringing you tight against his body. Your feet lifted off the ground and you laughed against Steve's mouth. When he finally put you down, he rested his forehead against yours. His hand found its way to yours and he held it gingerly.
"Can I pick you up after work?"
"There's a really nice diner down the street..."
Steve smiled and kissed you. "Okay, I'll be back around 5?"
You said yes and told him that Bucky was more than welcome to come along. "I owe him a pitcher of beer."
Not understanding, Steve agreed any way and headed out toward the door but turned when you called out to him. He asked if something was wrong but you just smiled at him. "I love you."
Seconds, took seconds for him to be at your side. He kissed you again and again, hands roaming your hair until a call came through the lab's intercom - you had a meeting in ten minutes. Steve resided and kissed you on the forehead, and he felt a tunnel of relief fill his lungs. He knew coming back home was the right thing to do, it felt in his heart and saw it in your eyes as he whispered that he loved you.
Oh, how much he loved you...not even the temptations of time could hold him back.
................
steve rogers tags:
@purple-mangos
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outerspacebisexual · 2 years
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We'll Be All Right - Steve Harrington
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Summary: In the aftermath of the showdown with Vecna, you question if everything you had imagined for your future with Steve was in jeopardy.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Munson!Reader
Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: MAJOR angst, happy ending tho, very sad steve :'(, lil fluff as a treat
a/n: munson!reader but no mention of parents, so can be any type of sibling (i.e. step, half, bio)
Masterlist
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You weren’t even sure when things had gotten so bad.
It was like one day you woke up and there was a tension between the two of you.
The air around you two was suddenly stale. It left you awkwardly dancing around each other on tiptoes, trying desperately to keep what was left of you together, grasping at the threads that only seemed to fray the more you reached for them.
The loss to Vecna was still fresh in everyone’s minds, as fresh as the giant cracks through Hawkins that had killed so many. It was still painfully fresh in your own mind. You had lost your brother Eddie, and you had left him there, in the Upside Down.
You couldn’t escape the pain that encompassed you no matter where you went. The memory of coming back to your trailer and finding him laying there with Dustin. He was already gone by then, and you had missed out on spending his final moments with him.
You could still hear your screams in your ears as your knees buckled and met the hard ground. You could still feel Steve’s arms circling you, holding you as you crawled to your brother, his eyes open but unseeing.
You remembered Dustin talking to you, sputtering out apologies and trying to explain that Eddie had sacrificed himself to save him—to save you and the others. He had told you that even in his last moments, Eddie had told him to tell you that he loved you. And no matter how much you tried to push it down, an awful part of you rose up that wanted to resent Dustin for being the one with him and not you. You knew it wasn’t fair, but you had lost your brother, and nothing was fair anymore.
The next few days had been the hardest. You had been the one to tell your Uncle Wayne, and it had made things worse, because he had been so relieved to see you. He had pulled you into a ferocious hug, just like he had done when you were a child, whispering how grateful he was that you were all right. But then his face dropped when you hadn’t answered his questions about Eddie.
Everywhere you looked, you saw Eddie. Your trailer no longer felt safe and homely. It was an open wound that housed everything Eddie had been and would never become. His graduation cap that had been hanging from the end of his bed for three years would never be worn. His guitar would never be played again. You would never come home to complain about the volume of his amp, and you felt guilty for all the times you did. The posters on his walls stared at you every time you entered his room, mocking you with reminders of Eddie on stage.
Two days after his death, Steve had found you on the floor of Eddie’s room, surrounded by torn up posters that you had ripped from the walls. Your throat was raw from the screaming, both in anger, and then agony as you tried to put them back together. As you tried to piece back together this part of your brother.
Steve hadn’t tried to tell you it would be OK. Because he knew it wouldn’t be.
He had just held you, tears of his own welling up as you sobbed into his chest, barely able to hold yourself up, hating that he couldn’t take this pain away for you. Hating that he couldn’t make this better.
Weeks later, and everything had settled into a melancholic lull of trying to get through each day without crying.
Some days were better than others. The days when you visited Max were worse. When you sat at her bedside in hospital and read the letter she had given you aloud, eyes running over the heartfelt words that she had been too scared to say out loud. You sometimes wondered if she could hear you. And every time you did, you prayed that your voice would guide her back to the surface.
You had already lost a brother. You couldn’t lose someone who was like a little sister, too.
Steve and you had grown distant. Even as the two of you curled against each other at night, the space between you seemed to stretch for miles.
There had been no fight, no angry words, you just grew further from each other as the days passed.
And you hated it.
You hated that he was right there beside you and yet he felt so far away. You hadn’t felt this separate from Steve since before you got together three years ago. Before you had really known him, back when he was King Steve, and you were The Freak’s Sister, who had been partnered together for a science project.
That seemed like lifetimes ago now, and you never thought that you would feel that way again.
Because even when he kissed you, it felt like there was a wall growing higher and higher. Even when you sat together, pressed into his side, he wasn’t there. His eyes were on the TV, but his mind was far away.
In your own mind, you knew that you were hardly any better. You knew that you were pulling away from him just as much as you wanted him to be closer.
It was as if you were stuck in a weird dance of yearning and anguish, perpetually out of step.
At first, you thought you could fix it by trying to go back to how you were before, but that only resulted in you breaking down in your car as you caught sight of one of Eddie’s tapes in the glove box. You had still been sat in your car when Steve pulled into his driveway, and he had peeled you out of the driver’s seat and into his house.
Steve had left you alone that night, citing Robin needing his help with something important as his reason. He was gone all night, crawling into bed just before dawn. Before then, he would stay up late in the house. Sometimes he would sit outside by the pool. Sometimes he would just watch TV for hours instead of sleeping beside you. But that was the first time he started to leave the house.
Every time he left, you convinced yourself that he would be back in a minute. Just a minute. He was simply driving to the store. Or he was driving Dustin somewhere. He would be back in a minute.
But the minutes always dragged on for hours, with you jerking awake at every little sound, thinking that it was him coming home.
Eventually, you started to sleep better, only waking when he climbed into bed. You always pretended to be asleep. You couldn’t face whatever it was that was keeping him from you. You didn’t want to know. So, you lived in agonizing ignorance, pretending that you didn’t notice his absence.
+
You had slept in longer than normal.
You hadn’t been woken by Steve coming home, and you worried that he hadn’t come home at all. But the blankets were pushed back on his side, and his watch sat on his bedside table.
He had come home.
Slipping out of his bed and down the stairs, you found him in the living room. He was digging through random drawers, obviously looking for something. He paused when he saw you, his eyes giving you a once over before returning to the open drawer.
“Morning,” he said.
“Hey,” you replied. He looked so tired, you thought. Large bags under his eyes, and his beautiful brown eyes were dull. You could tell that the sleepless nights were getting to him. Maybe he did sleep, just somewhere else. You shook that thought away as soon as it arrived. “What are you looking for?”
Steve closed the drawer and opened another one. “I told Lucas that he could have my old Walkman.” He sighed and closed the drawer, pulling open a different one.
You ducked into the hallway, opening the cupboard under the stairs grabbing the Walkman, before returning to Steve. You held it out to him. “Here.”
“Oh, thanks.” He took it from you, eyes barely glancing at you as he opened it and removed the tape that was in it. You took it from him, smiling as you saw it was your Bay City Rollers album.
You brushed your fingers over the track listing, pausing at ‘I Only Wanna Be with You’.
The sun was high in the sky, leaving you sweating under the hot Indiana sun as you planted an array of flowers and plants in front of your trailer.
You weren’t a huge fan of gardening, but your Uncle Wayne had started to let the weeds build up with his double shifts at the plant, so you thought it would be a nice surprise for him when he woke up to get ready for work.
You had asked Eddie if he wanted to help, to which he replied, “I’d rather die.”
You had probably chosen the worst time of day to start, but you were on a time crunch. Uncle Wayne would be up in a few hours, and you wanted to have it done.
You hummed along to the music, adjusting your headphones before unpotting a plant and placing it into the freshly dug hole. The music was loud enough that you couldn’t hear the outside world, which was just how you liked it.
The album had been a gift from your uncle when you were only nine years old. One that he had admittedly asked the woman behind the counter for when he told her he wasn’t really sure what a nine-year-old girl would like.
You had been ecstatic when you received it, and it was still one of your all-time favourites, even ten years later.
You were totally zoned out, digging the next hole and humming, and you jumped when two hands rested on your shoulders. You yelped, and if it wasn’t for the hands that gripped you tighter, you would have fallen face-first into the dirt.
You spun around to find Steve leaning over you and laughing.
You pulled your headphones off and said, “What the hell, Steve? I almost had a heart attack.”
Steve let you go as you stood. “It’s not my fault you have your music blasting. I drove right up to you and everything.”
As he said, his red BMW was parked only a few metres from you. “Yeah, OK. That’s fair enough,” you admitted. “What are you doing here?”
“I just finished work,” he said, stepping forward until you were only inches apart. “I came to hang out.”
You raised a brow. “Hang out, huh?”
Steve scoffed. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Munson.”
You laughed and wrapped your arms around his middle. “I can’t help that I have such a pretty boyfriend.”
“I still don’t know how I feel about you calling me pretty.”
“You should be flattered,” you declared. “You’re the only guy I call pretty.”
Steve dug his fingers into your sides, making you squeal. “I’d better be.”
You pushed him away, but he reached out and took your headphones from your neck. “What are you listening to?”
“Bay City Rollers.”
Steve rolled his eyes as he slipped them on. “Typical.”
“They’re good!” you defended.
“Yeah, for teenage girls.”
“I am a teenage girl, Harrington. If you have a problem with that, you can stop listening to them.” You reached for the headphones, but he slipped out of your grasp. The headphone wires pulled tight from where your Walkman was clipped to your waist.
“I never said I didn’t like them, babe,” he teased, as he slipped the headphones around his neck and turned the volume up until you could both hear I Only Wanna Be with You playing. “This is your favourite,” he said. It wasn’t a question, he knew that it was, and your heart fluttered. Steve could still make heat rise to your cheeks like you were a schoolgirl.
He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you and swaying the two of you around to the music while half-singing-half-mumbling the lyrics. “Ever since we’ve met, you’ve had a hold on me. No matter what you do, I only want to be with you.”
You laughed as he tried to spin you and you just managed to get all caught up in the headphone wires. You untangled yourself, and Steve pulled you close again, his face just a hairsbreadth from yours. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face if you tried, and you kissed him.
You only pulled away when the door to your trailer opened, and Eddie stepped out. “Oh, gross. Get a room,” he groaned, before taking off in the direction of his van.
You flipped him off, still smiling as you yelled, “Get lost, moron.”
The memory was so vivid that it brought tears to your eyes.
It was so distant from the way you and Steve were now. Back then, you hadn’t thought that your brother would be dead in less than a year. You hadn’t thought that you and Steve would ever be on the cusp of losing each other, even though you were still hopelessly in love with him.
Steve wrapped the headphones around the Walkman and made for the door. He was leaving again, he was leaving again, he was leaving again. That one thought replayed over and over as you looked at him. You couldn’t watch him walk away again.
“Steve,” you called gingerly.
He stopped in the doorway, but he didn’t turn around.
You bit your lip in an attempt to keep your tears at bay. “Are we…” You swallowed back the lump in your throat. You had to talk about it. If you didn’t, the tension would only sharpen until it became a blade that would hurt the both of you. “Do you want to break up?” The words hurt as you said them, as if you had turned the knife on yourself.
And for every second that he didn’t answer, for every second that the silence stretched, the knife buried itself deeper into your heart.
“No,” he said finally, and when he turned towards you, his eyes were clouded with unshed tears. His voice was quiet, broken in a way you hadn’t heard before as he said, “I love you. But I can hardly look at you.”
“What?” you whispered, afraid of what would come next.
Steve’s tongue darted between his lips as he looked at you, just like it always did when he was thinking hard.
“Steve,” you pleaded. “Please.” You didn’t know what you were asking for. You just wanted something. Anything.
“I’m sorry,” he uttered. A single tear escaped his eye, but he didn’t wipe it away.
You furrowed your brows. “For what?”
He heaved in a shaky breath. “For everything. For Eddie. For Max.”
Your breath hitched as he said your brother’s name. “Why are you apologising for them?”
“Because it’s my fault,” he admitted, voice breaking again. “It’s my fault. Because I was supposed to protect Max, and…and then I was the one who told you to come with me instead of staying with Eddie. I was selfish and I wanted you with me—” He let out a strangled cry. “And then he died. And you weren’t with him.”
You stared at him, the knife in your chest pushing even deeper than you could have imagined as you stood in front of your boyfriend who somehow thought that this was his fault. “Baby, it’s not your fault. I—”
“But it is, isn’t it?” he cut you off. “Because you wanted to stay with him. And I wanted you to come with me.”
You shook your head. “I was always going to go with you. I wasn’t going to leave your side.” Steve chewed on his bottom lip as he stared at you, and for the first time in weeks, you really saw him.
You saw just how much guilt was swimming behind his eyes, how much pain and distress was circling around in his mind. Your heart broke. It shattered into a million tiny shards as you realized that this whole time, Steve had been blaming himself for everything that had happened. And you hadn’t noticed. You had thought he just didn’t love you.
But he had thought that you blamed him.
You walked over to him, stopping just before him. “I don’t blame you, Steve,” you breathed. You hesitantly reached up and wiped his tears away, keeping your hands on his cheeks when he leaned into your touch. “I was worried about Eddie and Dustin, and I was scared of leaving them alone, but I never once thought about leaving your side. I don’t think I’ll ever not regret being there with him, but it was my decision, baby. It wasn’t your fault.”
Steve leaned forward and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry. For not being here. I—I couldn’t sleep next you with all this…” He trailed off, but you knew what he was saying. “I was staying at Robin’s. I thought…I thought that you wouldn’t want to be around me anymore. And every time I saw you, all I could think about was how I failed you. Failed everyone.”
You brushed his tears away with your thumbs, holding his face tighter as you said, “You didn’t fail anyone, Steve. You didn’t fail me. I love you.”
He squeezed his eyes shut as you said it, and you knew he needed to hear it again.
“I love you, Steve.”
When he opened his eyes, they were so vulnerable, so honest. You knew yours were the same.
He kissed you then, and it was gentle, but it told you everything you needed to hear and more.
You didn’t need to tell him that it would be OK. Because you both knew it would be. It would just take some time.
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dazed-nymphsss · 2 years
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⋆·˚ ༘ *𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮
┕━» yandere!eddie x fem!reader
❕warnings❕: yandere tendencies, controling behavior, lying, language, adult themes, smut (mentions of oral, p in v, some sinful shit) The nsfw is highlighted in red, fluff, toxic relationship
a/n: yandere tings ig 😗✌️
『•• what i think eddie would be like if he was absolutely infatuated with you••』
Not edited or betaed.
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it's only you who can tell me apart, and it's only you who can turn my wooden heart -- only you, portishead
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For starters, you would never know his true colors until it was too late
he's a fun, charismatic guy, and he's well-liked by everyone who actually gets to know him. And before you, he didn't even know that he had those tendencies in the first place.
But when you came into the picture, everything for him changed, and he felt almost a primal need to protect.
It would start out as you just wanting to try something new, the legendary dungeon master inviting you to one of Hellfire's many meet-ups.
You were desperate to make friends seeing as you were new to the small quaint town of Hawkins.
The two of you became fast friends. And that's all you thought you were, friends.
He would insist that he and his club were all you needed, and soon you spoke to nobody else but the Hellfire club.
He would make what seemed like jokes, telling you that anybody other than him didn't deserve someone as sweet as you. And he was right about one thing, you were sweet.
That's how the real shit started.
Before Steve, it was all about having fun and hanging out with you whenever he deemed fit.
Steve was the only person you really spoke to besides the club, and when Eddie found out, he was entirely against it.
"He's nothing but bad news, alright? He just wants to get in your pants, this is 'King Steve' we're talking about." he would tell you once he found out, "Guys like that don't deserve to even be looked at by you."
Because he had said it as if it were a joke, a teasing smile on his face, that's what you passed it off as, a joke.
But now he was attached to your side like a puppy, where ever you went, Eddie was sure to be not far behind.
He even went as far as to learn new subjects for you so you wouldn't have to go to someone else for tutoring.
Finally, after much consulting with Dustin on how to go about it, he asked you out.
You thought Eddie was attractive, funny, and kind, so you couldn’t imagine yourself saying anything else other than yes.
He would treat you like a queen, worshiping the ground you walked on.
Eddie would begin to double down on the time he was already spending with you, which seemed impossible, yet he made it possible.
You enjoyed finding out small things about Eddie during your time spent together, but you mainly talked about you when you were together.
Soon, Eddie knew you as well as you did. He would pick up on little things that you did and keep them in his mind, hoarding them like a magpie.
You would ignore the late-night, uninvited visits from him, his clumsy ass "sneaking" into your room through your window. He insisted that he could sleep without you, and it was true, he couldn't find himself drifting off without his head against your chest and your hands in his hair, his arms wrapped around you tightly as if you were a lifeline.
By the time you noticed something was seriously wrong, it was when he began to keep you from your friends in Hellfire.
He couldn't trust you with anyone else, he felt as though you were treasure, and he needed to save you from being tainted by the disgusting cruelty of the world.
Eddie knew what it felt like to be ridiculed by the world around him, and he couldn't bear the thought of you being treated the same.
With the eventual complaints from you, he would brush them off and dismiss them quickly, trying to distract you with witty banter or jokes to take your mind off of you.
(NSFW) When you finally gave yourself to him, he felt as though he was given a gift from a higher power. You were untouched, a virgin. His pretty, perfect, innocent, untouched princess. He took note of everything that made you tick, memorizing your pussy like a map. He made you feel pleasure you never thought you could. And in a way, it made you more attached to him in the long run.
Soon, sex became a new way to distract you from your concerns, and more so, the people around you.
When you finally manage to make your concerns voiced, avoiding his distractions, he wasn't thrilled. It was explosive.
Eddie was baffled at how you couldn't see how awful people were. How cruel and unforgiving high school hierarchies could be.
He felt shitty for it, but he guilt-tripped you with tears and pleading.
(NSFW) The argument was concluded with his head between your thighs as he whimpered apologies into your cunt as he devoured you. But in the back of his mind, he wasn't sorry at all. It was for your own good.
There was an instance that had truly scared you.
Steve was just trying to be nice, he had spoken to Dustin about what your favorite movies were, and took the liberty of delivering them to your house after he hadn't heard from you. He used the videotapes as an excuse to check on you.
Unfortunately for the hopeless romantic, Eddie was listening from the living room while you spoke with Steve at the front door.
"Ever since you started hanging out with that Munson kid, nobody sees much of you anymore. Are you okay?"
How dare he, how dare he? How dare Steve Harrington make you question your relationship with him. How dare Steve come to your house while you and he were perfectly content watching movies.
Eddie was quick to appear behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist protectively, an eyebrow raising at Steve, daring him to continue.
"Sorry, I didn't know you had company," Steve would apologize.
"No, no, it's alright," you would promise, making Eddie scowl, "We were just watching some movies if you wanted to jo-"
"AAAlright, that's enough, time for you to go, Harrington," Eddie stopped your offer in its tracks, attempting to close the door, but Steve put his foot in the way.
"No man, I don't think so."
Steve knew something was wrong. But he wasn't sure if you knew it as well.
It turned into an argument between the two and quickly escalated from there, Eddie swinging first.
It was all a blur from there. You begged Eddie to get off your friend, and eventually, he did, but not without leaving Steve with a nasty black eye.
When you managed to pull Eddie inside and slam the door behind you, you scolded him, asking what the hell was wrong with him.
"Remember what I told you? He just wants to get in your pants! He wants what's mine!" Eddie would try to reason.
You were pretty shaken up, not in the mood to argue with him, knowing he would never let up. He was stubborn like that.
You were clearly distraught about the situation, and Eddie saw this as yet another opportunity to drive the point home that people were awful and didn't deserve a sweetheart like you.
Eddie had consoled you that night, wiping away our tears as he held your head in his lap. He hated seeing you cry, but it was for your own good.
All for your own good.
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give me some more ideas for some yandere!eddie, i like writing for him
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hornedqueenofhell · 9 months
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Steddie Writing Prompt Enemies to Lovers
Based on this TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8LkqMoF/
Superhero Steve Harrington who moonlights as a pole dancer to make ends meet. Might as well put his strength and flexibility to use in a way that actually makes him money. His favorite client is this long-haired nerd who purchases lap dances and traces constellations out of the moles and freckles on his back. The fact that he tips generously is also a big bonus, he's not a sugar baby shut up Robin. The new laptop he was able to get has been really nice though. And being able to afford repairs and even upgrades to his suit is a dream, he can only buy out the necessary fabrics from so many craft stores before people get suspicious. Food, food's great too considering superhero metabolism is no fucking joke. If he could just get Dustin to stop running head first into danger his life would be much better off. And finally capturing Heavy Metal.
Eddie realizes who Celestial is after about two months of their little arrangement. He'd started to suspect something when he noticed how similar some of Celestial's dance moves were to the way the pesky neighborhood crime fighter slipped around beams and other things Eddie threw at him during their little tryst's. He never really heard Celestial's voice clearly over the pounding bass of Eddie's favorite night club, but he was used to an excessive amount of quips and one liners from the hero. It wasn't until one of their fights that ended with the back of the other man's suit ripped open that Eddie realized it was his favorite dancer under the mask. He knew those freckles, wanted to trace his lips over those beautiful marks while their owner rolled his hips in Eddie's lap and perched on the arm of his chair. After he figures it out he pays for Celestial to stay in his lap for his entire shift at the Upside Down. He brushes his fingers down Celestial's stocking and watches as he flinches when Eddie rubs over where he'd left a bruise on the hero not a few hours ago. He starts coming every night that they have a fight and paying for Celestial to just relax in his lap all evening.
He may or may not also enjoy teasing the fuck out of the hero now that he knows. 'That's a new suit gorgeous?' 'Got an upgrade? Someone finally taking care of you princess?' 'You like spinning around on poles for me big boy?' He's playing with fire but it's worth it imagining the blush his pretty Celestial sports every time Eddie compliments him. He likes seeing them looking so much healthier now, and the money comes from his patents so it's all clean if Celestial ever finds out. It's weird finding out that he and Celestial both have the same handler though.
Dustin Henderson works at the local rec center helping out with kids who were injured in the super fights, his mom says it'll look good for college and he helps teach d&d there. Best. Job. Ever. And yeah he knows Steve's secret identity, kinda hard to hide when you accidentally surprise your babysitter and he almost goes through a wall he jumps so hard. Dustin also coordinates visits to kids at the hospital his mom works at with Steve. Letting them meet and get pictures with the local town hero. And then Max Mayfield requests a visit from Heavy Metal. Now Dustin is also planning visits for villain's, and what even is his life anymore? (Basically the fantastic Villain Wrangler tumblr post if you know it) He's starting to get annoyed with Steve's demands to give up Heavy Metal's whereabouts too, like sure Steve I'll tell you where he's hiding out and then I'll give him your address because that would be fair right? At least Steve seems happy with his mysterious sugar daddy.
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