#was Steve's black eye mostly better by then

[losing-it-lately]

doing Steve's makeup

wc: 1k

steve harrington x reader fluff

Steve Harrington feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. He didn’t even think he deserved heaven after everything he did in high school and all the girls’ hearts he strung along and all the people he hurt. But now, with his head in your hands and his heart in your palms, he thinks that maybe he did really turn his life around; his mind is mostly empty, just one last question bouncing around the crevices of his brain: “how is he even here?”

If you ask anyone but Steve, the answer would be simple. Ask Eddie, and he would just explain that it’s common knowledge that metal music is a progressive scene, one where man and makeup collide. That, and that Steve melts like butter in the palm of your hand, choosing to do anything to get close to you, even rejecting his “boy-next-door” look for some black eyeliner. Ask Nancy, and she would tell you she’s been waiting for someone kind to come back to Steve and that Steve has been waiting for you to come to him. Ask Robin, and she will wind up about a messy and descriptive but warm anecdote that all starts with you bringing them to Corroded Coffin’s new gig.

The Hideout is never packed, unless it’s a Friday. The combination of loud music, non-functioning lights and Hawkin’s lack of bars and clubs resulted in an absolute haven for youth, and on top of that, Corroded Coffin had been moved from their regular Tuesday shift to the late Friday night one. Usually, the odd scent of the bar mixed with the unnecessary amount of people was enough to turn you away from Friday nights at the Hideout, but Eddie was playing; what kind of hype man would you be if you didn’t drag Robin and Steve with you?

Despite the overfilled bar, someone had still managed to catch Robin’s eye in the corner of the bar.

“Oh my god. She’s here! She’s here and I look like shit!” In classic Buckley fashion, Robin began what should have been a calm night by noticing Nancy Wheeler in the corner of the Hideout with her classic notepad and her permed bangs; a journalist in the making writing for an article in the making, a little column piece on Eddie’s “up and coming band”.

“Rob, you never look like shit,” you reassure as you begin to reach for your purse. Robin’s a smart girl, but she forgets how other people see her and can spiral. Sometimes she just needs something to ground her- “I can do your makeup if it makes you feel better?”

Robin’s lips begin to turn back up, her eyes preen with appreciation and she rasps out a kind “yes please!”

She lowers herself on a barstool. The bar was mostly dark, excusing some random working lamps above varying booths, but it was still enough for Steve to gaze at you, whilst you finished working your magic. Cleaning and then using a soft eyeliner to blend her eyes and then a mascara to draw attention to them, Robin laughs as your collection of tools softly tickles her face.

Steve’s wide eyes repeatedly glance over your face, concentration forcing you to forget about his presence. He has never wanted anything more than how he wants to wear that makeup.

Using the dark brown liner and the random mauve-y, chocolatey shade of old lipstick in your purse, you finished up adorning Robin’s face. The perfect time for Steve to interject. “i want makeup too,” he squeaks out.

Both yours and Robin's eyes zero in on him, a knowing smirk gracing Robin's face before she leaps from her chair and practically runs to Nancy.

“For the concert, I want to look metal,” he adds as a small blush begins to grow from his ears.

“Ok,” you respond with a smile. He starts shifting in his chair, trying to figure out an angle where he can be comfortably near you and you can easily start fixing up his face. As you stand in front of him and manoeuvre your hands to hold him, a gentle feeling starts to spread in his torso. You’re so close, and from this angle, you are so beautiful. His eyes gaze up at you and his hands circle around your legs, firmly grasping the backs of your thighs. His hands are soft and strong, and his touch is light and warm.

You hold his jaw with the palm of your hand; if you press enough, you can feel his heartbeat quicken under your fingers. You had never thought that Steve Harrington would be interested in makeup or metal music, and you were right; he wasn’t interested in makeup or metal music- he was interested in you.

Taking the spare black eyeliner from your bag, you begin to draw on his eyes, occasionally angling his head in a new direction. Steve feels like every time you come near him, his life goes in a new direction. You colour and smudge the eyeliner, ignoring his big brown eyes and the way that they monitor your every move. You feel like you could live in his gaze, and truth be told, he would let you.

Your fingers begin to inch up from his neck and chin to his lips, ghosting over them as both of your breathing dwindles. You can feel the air he breathes out on your finger tips, in fact, without noticing, you begin to feel it on your face as he brings you closer. His hands push you into him as his lined eyes drop down to your lips.

Steve’s eyes begin to close and he can feel your lips getting even closer, and then he hears you gasp loudly in shock. His eyes startle open and his hands are suddenly cold and wet. Somebody's beer is washed down your back, your hair and blouse drenched from behind.

Steve lips frown in a soft pout as it hits him that the moment is gone. Everything turns into white noise as he understands that you nearly kissed him: the apologies from the drunk girl who spilled it, Eddie’s music, the bartender's offer of napkins. It all fades until he watches you slip off to the bathroom, trying to fix your problem.

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington fanfiction #st #fanfic #fluff #fanfiction #joe keery #joe keery fluff #joe keery x reader

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

a small dumb pleasure of writing a Steddie fic where you get them together earlier and/or NOTHING REALLY BAD HAPPENS TO THEM:

looking up concerts at Market Square Arena in Indianapolis on concertarchives.org and being like “ooh they could see Dio on October 24th 1985!  They should go.”

#steddie #do you think the stranger things kids watched Live Aid on 13 July 1985 #was Steve's black eye mostly better by then #or still kind of green and yellow #did anyone feel up to it after recent events? #did they maybe get together at Mike's house to watch it together? #how much did Ted hate having a mob of teenagers in his house for 16 hours?

[hairmetal666]

Everyone in the league knows about Eddie Munson. He has the makings of a great pitcher, except for the fact that his slider has a 75% chance of sliding too high and his fastballs mostly end up in the dirt. His technique is wild, flailing, unrestrained. Which is why Steve is beside himself when he learns about the trade.

The owners, they think that Steve being the best catcher in the league means he can work with Eddie, settle him, make him a real prospect. Steve's input isn't needed with the decision already made, but Munson--with all his tattoos piercings and leather--looks like he'd rather hock a loogie at Steve than take directions from him.

And Steve is the best in the league, the glue that keeps the team together. They're a well-oiled machine, and Eddie is--Eddie is a squeaky wheel.

They meet for the first time, briefly, in the locker room. He's seen the guy before, of course, but now, like this, he can't help but be intrigued by his pale skin and long curls and brown doe-eyes, his lightly muscled frame. And they're in the locker room, Eddie with just a towel around his waist, exposing his toned chest and stomach and the black swirl of his tattoos.

"Steve Harrington!" Eddie reaches out a hand. "Great to meet you, man."

"You too. Excited to have you with us." The handshake is quick and firm and Steve is trying not to be surprised about how excited and genuine the guy sounds, keep his mind away from thinking of how Eddie is naked aside from the towel.

With only a few weeks until the start of the regular season, Eddie starts pitching to Steve. And Steve, he so expects Eddie to fight and grumble and refuse, that his head sort of spins when, on the first day, Eddie claps him on the back with his glove, says, "where do you want me, cap?" and that's that.

He wants to say that they dislike each other, that they're a bad fit, that Eddie is full himself and refuses constructive criticism.

Instead.

Instead it's easy.

Eddie doesn't complain, doesn't argue, just watches Steve, learns him, takes his advice and notes and implements them as much as he can. They like each other, have an easy rapport, get each other. He's tight with all the pitchers, but Eddie is different. They settle each other.

They're best friends. They hangout constantly. And he doesn't have a crush; he doesn't. It would be unprofessional. They're best friends.

But sometimes, sometimes he thinks he catches Eddie looking at him. It's impossible. Of course it's impossible. Eddie couldn't be into the guy Sports Illustrated called "baseball's Ralph Lauren model" in the intro to Steve's Body Issue photo spread. And it doesn't matter one way or the other because Steve won't make a move. He won't jeopardize the team like that.

They don't touch. He touches everyone on the team, often, and Eddie particularly is a physical guy, but aside from that first handshake, he keeps his distance. Steve's afraid--even though it's silly, he's afraid--that once they start touching, he won't be able to stop, and he can't let that happen.

The team is good, competing for first place in the National League. Eddie's success has made everyone else better.

It's late July, they're in first place in the league, and Eddie's pitching a perfect game. There's only been 24 perfect games thrown in the history of Major League Baseball, but it's the eighth inning and Eddie's doing it.

A pitch goes wild, veers high over the umpire's head. Eddie's shaken, Steve can tell with how his fist tightens compulsively around the ball. The next pitch swings wide, towards the batter's knees.

The count is at 2 balls, no strikes, and he can see, even from behind home plate Steve can see, that Eddie's losing it. He heads for the mound, refuses to let it end like this. He closes the distance between them, has a quick internal debate before he puts his hand on Eddie's lower back. They've never touched, this is it, this is--warmth bleeds from Eddie's skin, through the fabric of his jersey, goes straight to Steve's head.

Eddie frowns. "I don't think I--"

"You're going to do it, Ed. I know. I can feel it." He pats his chest, over his heart. "It's gonna happen."

Eddie's breathing settles and it's only then that Steve realizes he's rubbing circles into Eddie's back with his thumb. He's not sure when he started, doesn't want to stop, loves being able to feel.

"Okay," Eddie says.

"Okay."

Steve removes his hand, heads back to home, still tingling with the warmth of Eddie's body even as he crouches behind the plate.

He closes out the inning with three definitive strike outs. The crowd goes wild.

They take the field for the top of the 9th, the crowd is screaming, ready for this, the energy zipping through every player on the field.

It goes by in a blur. Nine pitches. Eddie's perfect game is wrapped up in nine phenomenal pitches.

As the ump calls the last out, there's a moment of complete and utter quiet in the stadium, Steve's heart a pounding hum in his ears, before pandemonium breaks loose. There's screaming, fireworks, someone is crying--

All he can see is Eddie. Eddie's who's thrown his glove to the dirt, is barreling towards him with a triumphant smile bright on his face. Steve stands, runs to close the distance. He sees the moment that Eddie decides to jump into his arms, catches him easily--will always catch him--but his legs are tired and the momentum gets him, sends them tumbling back into the grass.

They're both yelling, laughing, smiling hard enough to hurt. Eddie's hair has fallen out if its tie, tumbling around his shoulders, and Steve gazes at him, can't help it, in this moment can admit that he's so, so astronomically in love.

It's only then Steve realizes that the laughter's stopped, that Eddie's gazing back. Brown eyes shining bright with happiness, cheeks flushed pink, lips parted. Thoughtless, he reaches up to caress Eddie's cheek.

The team reaches them, streaming around them, yanking Eddie and Steve to their feet. The celebration stretches around them, the moment slipping away. He wants to finish what they started but there are interviews, champagne showers, congratulations, that keep them apart. Sometimes, from across the room, their eyes meet, and there's heat there that's new, that sparks something low in Steve's gut.

Hours pass, and finally he finds himself alone in the locker room. He's just pulled on his t-shirt when the door shuts behind him. He spins, finds Eddie, waiting, watching.

He crosses the room without a word, can't not, not now, not after everything. They grapple for a second, the wanting so strong that it takes a second to settle, to find each other. They kiss hard, desperate, seething with desire.

Steve hopes it never ends and it doesn't, just tapers into soft kisses, gentle nips. He can't bring himself to step away.

"Is this for real ?" Eddie whispers.

"I've been insane about you since the trade."

Eddie's smile is blinding. "I used to have those pictures of you--the ones with the little red shorts?--in my locker in the minors. Feel like I'm living in a dream right now."

It lights him up inside, knowing that Eddie wants him, has wanted him. "Let me take you home and show you just how real it is?"

He snorts, but his dimples deepen, eyes shining. "What a line, sweetheart."

"Yeah well, the baseball field isn't the only place where I hit home runs."

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #baseball au #teammates to lovers #ficlet #fluff #first kiss #feelings confession #steve thinks he'll hate eddie but he just falls in love with him instead #pitcher eddie munson #catcher steve harrington #i had this idea a month ago and forgot about it #dom/sub undertones in the way that what if steve gently doms eddie into pitching better #what if steve modeled for SI's body issue and what if eddie is obsessed with him the whole time #really playing fast and loose with how major league baseball works

[bleedingoptimism]

As Steve walks into the grocery store he pulls his sunglasses off, only to put them back on again immediately. The lights of the store make the back of his eyes sting. Hungover from a bad headache, not that people here would care why. Whatever, is not like everyone already doesn’t think he’s an asshole. He doesn’t need to perform for anyone anymore.

A guy, singing to himself down one of the aisles peaks his attention, he’s tall and has long black hair and Steve belatedly remembers that he’s Jon’s friend from California.

“Argyle?” he asks, more to himself than to him, but Argyle turns and smiles at him as if they are old friends. He approaches and grabs his shoulder, shaking him a little.

“Oh! Hi Stevie!” 

The confidence and attitude he carries himself with make Steve smile for some reason. It’s like he’s very sure of himself but in a nice way, not in a douchey way, like his high school buddies were. Although hearing someone call him “Stevie” reminds him of Tommy and a very different time and he can’t help but shrink inwards a little, “Oh no please, just Steve,” he says with an apologetic smile, pulling his sunglasses off again and placing them on his head. And because he doesn’t want Argyle to think he’s the douchebag, he explains further, “‘Stevie’ brings back bad memories,”

Argyle leans his head to the side with a pout but then smiles and squeezes Steve’s shoulder, “Dude, it’s fine, we can just make new ones, man! Better ones.”

Steve’s first reaction is to scoff. As if it were that easy… but then he thinks, hell, maybe it is.  Maybe it is and it makes him smile. Argyle is way too outgoing for it to be comfortable for other people, it’s kind of ridiculous. For a second, he wonders if Jonathan found it jarring when he first met him. But Steve finds it refreshing. He shakes his head and smiles,

“So what were you looking for? Maybe I can help?” he offers.

Argyle turns in a circle, letting go of Steve’s shoulder and opening his arms wide, like he’s presenting the store to Steve, “See man, I'm mentally preparing myself for the munchies. I kind of wanted to make a pizza but like sweet? You get me?”

“Like a pie?” Steve chuckles.

“That! Sounds delicious, dude! But I don’t know how to make a pie,” Argyle laments, and Steve has no idea what possesses him to say,

“I do. You want help?” 

Argyle stills his whole body and then shakes it before he starts snapping his fingers rapidly, startling Steve.

“Ok! Ok ok ok ok ok! Are you busy right now, man?”

“Just need to buy my groceries…” Steve says unable to keep the bewilderment off his expression.

“I’ll help you with that, we’ll buy things for the pie and then you invite me over, how’s that my dude?” Argyle says, no preambles, “I have a doobie and a lot of questions about all the shit that went down” he adds moving his eyebrows up and down quickly.

“What about Jon?” Steve can’t help but ask.

“Ah man, Jonny is with Nancy right now. Those two love birds had a lot to talk about, so I figured I’d make myself scarce.” Argyle answers, nodding apprehensively at his own statement.

Steve finds himself nodding along before saying, “Yeah, okay. Let’s do it!”

“Hell yeah, Stevie!” Argyle exclaims throwing his arms up and this time, Steve doesn’t cringe at the nickname.

After that, Argyle follows Steve through the store, helping him put things in the cart, making a few comments about differences in products or prices from California, but mostly staying out of the way and humming to himself. Steve asks him what he wants the pie to be (strawberries and chocolate) so he gets the ingredients for that too and then they are off.

When they get to his place, Steve tells him to get comfortable while he puts stuff away but Argyle helps him out before sitting on a tall stool in the kitchen and watching as Steve gets all the ingredients for the pie laid out.

“You know dude, you’re kind of exactly how I imagined you’d be,” Argyle tells him, gifting him another one of his smiles. 

“Really?” Steve asks surprised.

“Jon told me all about you, man,” he answers nodding. 

Steve raises an eyebrow at that, “And you still want to hang out with me?” he asks, half judgy, half defensive.

“Of course! Because you know what I got from it, dog?” Argyle asks and Steve just stares at him, afraid to know the answer.

“That you are a good person, Stevie! So you got off to a rocky start dude, so what? I think that makes you all the more interesting.”

Steve purses his lips in an attempt not to smile and raises an eyebrow.

“You went to hell and beyond for someone you didn’t even like! You’ve paid your dues and a half for whatever shit you did when you were younger and it could’ve made you bitter or closed off, man! But it didn’t. Not even the tiniest little bit. You barely know me and you invited me over and offered to bake pie for me, dude!” 

Steve chuckles and shakes his head, “You got all that from what Jon told you? Also you invited yourself over,” he jokes. 

Argyle laughs and then just shrugs, choosing to ignore Steve’s question about Jon.

He lets it go, and Argyle lights up the joint while he starts making the pie. After they both get a few hits, Argyle starts asking him about everything. ‘Start from the beginning’ he says.

Steve starts off a little stiff but gets looser with the weed and Argyle's presence and ends up telling him practically everything. Argyle asks a few questions every once in a while, sometimes about the process of making the pie. Sometimes some really intense shit like ‘and how did that make you feel?’, ‘did you think you were going to die?’ ‘were you scared?’.

Steve answers everything honestly, and it feels incredibly cathartic. His favorite questions are the ones about the pie though, and he smiles the biggest when Argyle says next time he’ll make one for him.

In turn, Steve asks him how he met Jon and chuckles when Argyle confirms his thoughts and tells him Jon didn’t like Argyle one bit at first.

“He said I was too happy. He didn’t trust it. Dude couldn’t trust anyone that hadn’t gone through some kind of shit in their lives” Argyle laughs, “But I can thaw even the coldest of hearts, man! As we got to know each other, he realized that I did have my own shit going on, but that happiness was a choice for me. Is who I had chosen to be.”

They talk about that too, how it wasn’t an easy choice. How some days it’s harder than others, to keep at it. How all the Upside Down shit affected him too.

By the time the pie is done and the joint is gone, Steve feels incredibly close to Argyle. Like they’ve been friends forever. 

“So that’s pretty much it,” he says with a sigh after finishing a rant about why he doesn’t keep in touch with his high school buddies because Argyle had asked about them.

“Dude, you’ve been through so much,” he says solemnly.

“Yeah, you know that’s…. Life…” Steve says, shrugging. He doesn't know exactly what to say, suddenly feeling very awkward at being seen.

“Nah, Stevie. Me being kicked out of my house as soon as I was old enough to get a job ‘cause my parents couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and my younger siblings…. That’s life.” Argyle says seriously and quickly dismisses Steve's worried face adding, “It’s ok dude, they were great parents, they raised me well and I still go visit every other weekend” And then sighs and looks sternly at Steve again,

“Like I said, that’s life. What you’ve been through? Was hell”

“The kids had it worse- Ell-” Steve starts but Argyle interrupts him.

“That doesn’t erase what you've been through, Steve. It doesn’t make it less of a nightmare, man.” Steve just looks at Argyle as what he’s saying sinks in. 

“And you got through it, dude. You came out the other side even a better person than when it started and like- you saved lives! You saved my best friend's life and like- like- you should be proud of yourself Stevie. I’m proud of you, man” he finishes with a carefree smile. As if he hadn’t just rocked the ground Steve was standing on. And he doesn't know if it’s the weed, or Argyle’s words, or both but Steve closes the distance between them and hugs him.

“Oh, hey! Hugs! I love hugs!” Argyle laughs, and hugs him back, taking it all in stride.

“Sorry,” Steve sniffles embarrassed, “I didn’t know I needed to hear that till you said it,” he croaks.

“Nah, it’s good. I got you” Argyle responds, patting his back lightly.

The hug is wonderful, friendly, warm, and just the right length but when he’s stepping away from Argyle, he hears a wary sound from the kitchen door.

“Uhm…hi” 

It’s Eddie. Pocker-faced and cautious and Steve knows him well enough to know he’s freaking out inside.

“Oh, hi! Eddie! Good to see you, dude!” Argyle says good naturally and completely out of the loop. Steve smiles at him too and rubs his eyes with the back of his hand to dry them off a bit.

Whatever Eddie was thinking goes out the window when he looks closely at Steve and walks towards him, leaning closer to look him in the eye, “You okay?” he asks concerned.

Steve nods and Argyle clears his throat, “I’m going to… set the table for three,” he says, so maybe, not as out of the loop as Steve first thought.

Eddie completely ignores Argyle and grabs Steve’s face, his thumb caressing the underside of his eye, “You really ok?” he asks again and Steve chuckles,

“Yeah,” he answers with a smile.

Eddie hums and then looks back towards where Argyle is opening and closing cabinets in the dining room, looking for plates, “So… Should I be jealous?” he asks and Steve snorts amused, 

“Of course not,” he says.

“You sure? ‘Cause maybe your type wasn’t curls and big eyes, maybe it was long hair and weed all along,” Eddie presses and Steve can tell he’s trying to make a joke out of it but is actually asking for real and Steve gets frankly, really annoyed.

“You know what? Maybe you should be jealous. Argy would never accuse me like that,” Inwardly he cringes at the nickname but it gets the point across. Eddie’s face falls and he looks devastated and terrified for a second before Steve smirks bitchily at him and then Eddie is frowning.

“Asshole” he murmurs, despite still holding Steve’s face as if it were precious and fragile.

Steve steps closer, placing his hands on Eddie’s waist, “You started it” he says as an apology. Kind of.

Eddie huffs and moves his hands to Steve shoulder’s, one thumb pressed to his pulse, “I regret it” 

Steve hums, “Just for the record? A little possessiveness is kind of hot,” he says and pecks the tip of Eddie’s nose, “You questioning my feelings for you? Is not.” and then flicks it.

“Dully noted,” Eddie nods.

Steve looks him in the eye as he leans closer, kisses him fully in the mouth firmly, eyes open the whole time, and then whispers “Good boy,” before he steps away.

He smirks again seeing the full-body effect his little stunt has on Eddie. The way his eyelids fall, his mouth opens, the goosebumps on his arm hair, and the shiver that runs through his spine. He takes a moment to take it all in before he smiles, less predatory and more friendly. Eddie smiles back, and shakes his head amused, like he can't believe Steve is real. He does that a lot.

Steve then takes Eddie’s hand on his own and kisses his knuckles before moving past him and dragging him to the dining room with him, 

“Now c’mon. Let’s go eat pie with my new friend”

e͟n͟d͟

a coffee? a doobie? ☕🥐💕

#stranger things #argyle #steve #friendship #and a little #steddie #on the side #because i cant help myself #i wrote something

[1800jjbarnes]

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐖𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

【Synopsis】 : Your two roommates love to make it hard for you to find a partner… but what happens when they stop you at the door of your apartment and "convince" you that you deserve better.

『Word Count』 : 1.06k

-> Genre: Suggestive, Angst. Fluff. Slice Of Life Au

Pairing: Stucky x Female!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Mention of shitting dates and shit men. Fingering. Talks about sex. Use of the word cock. Dirty talk. Dom/sub play. Power play. Reader is lowkey a brat. Neck kisses. Begging.

Masterlist | Navigation

You wanted to look good, be good. Be enough. And tonight was your night. You dressed up in a beautiful and mostly sexy outfit, wanting to impress and attract this new guy you were seeing. Well, speaking to mostly online. This would be the first time you’d be meeting him and you hadn’t planned to be in a position of being fucked, but if it were to happen you were more than prepared. Grabbing your keys off your side table and checking yourself once more in the mirror before heading towards the door quickly so you don’t run into your roommates. 

“And where do you think you're going?”

Fuck… You freeze in your spot, hearing the deep grumble behind you, mostly coming from the archway leading to the kitchen. You spin on your heels to face the beefy man behind you. He looked like he had just woken up, with his tight muscle-t hugging his chest, while his black joggers weren't doing anything to your imagination on his clear erection. “Oh, Heyyy Jamie. I was just… Heading out..”

You knew he wasn’t stupid and you knew for a fact he had noticed you were more attentive to your phone and practically glued every time a notification popped up. But to be fair you were probably touch-starved, and an attention whore so it wasn’t your fault. “Don’t go on that date.”

“Why?” You snapped

“You know why.” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. You step towards him getting in his face with slight frustration. You knew Bucky and Steve liked to tease and flirt with you but every time without fail, when you went out on a date they always found a way to make you not go, or take you somewhere else instead. And they would always say it’s because they didn’t like the men you chose or the people to picked and ‘None of them are good to you. You deserved better.’ But deep down you knew, or more wanted them to say something else. Say it was ‘cause they wanted you, they want to be with you. But no. They were your roommates and nothing more. 

“Say it…” You're right in his face, holding your ground. He seemed surprised by your actions, usually, you would come quietly but this time he was seeing a new side to you. A bratty one. His smirk made your blood boil, was he enjoying your suffering? 

“What's going on here?” Steve walked in with a groggy voice and blood-red eyes, most likely being at his desk all afternoon working. “Why do you look all dolled up?”

You huffed crossing your arms in front of your chest, staring at the two annoying boys. They quickly exchanged looks and when Steve hummed lowly, it was like they both had a mental conversation. “ You seeing a guy?” Steve spoke up.

“And you care again, why? It’s not like you’re my boyfriends.” You rolled your eyes, turning your back to them. You started putting on your shoes, ignoring the clear anger rising in Bucky and the frustration in Steve. 

“Why do we care—ha. You aren’t worth those disgusting men's time.” Bucky cut himself off, scoffing at your words. "Those boys you see are a waste. And you don't need to throw yourself at them."

Throw?! Did he really say you throw yourself at men? All you do is try and get Bucky and Steve’s attention, and they never reciprocated it. So you kind of had to look elsewhere. You felt invisible around them like you were nothing more than a roommate. You couldn’t even find any combat to his harsh words, so instead, you turned around to leave while scoffing in disbelief. “Whatever, I’m going.”

Before you could grab the door handle a pair of large hands grabbed your waist, pulling you backwards until your back hit a very broad chest. A hand snaked around your chest up to your neck until fingers grip your chin tilting your head to the side so your face was suddenly inches away from Steve?!

“S-Stevie?!” You never even heard him walking towards you let alone being right behind you. Did he push Bucky out of the way from the small hallway? Why was he suddenly so close to you, to the point you could feel his heartbeat against your back, and his breath on your lips? 

“Close your eyes.” His voice was low and deep, like velvet and cream. God, you felt so wobbly from his hold. You didn’t listen, eyes darting between his own trying to understand what he could mean.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“I said…” His hand moved from your waist to the hem of your hands, fingers dipping slightly into the top of your jeans. Your breath hitched suddenly figuring out what he wanted, what you now wanted. “Close your eyes, Angel. Trust me.”

Your eyes shut quickly, maybe too quickly and that’s probably was you could hear a low chuckle erupts from Steve. You felt Steve’s hand slip further into your jeans and you wiggled in anticipation. You wanted so badly to open your eyes and take a peek at Steve but you tried your hardest to listen to his orders, and when you were about to whine in frustration another pair of hands gripped your wrist, swinging your body until your back hit the wall with a huff.

This time you opened your eyes, staring Bucky right in his dark eyes. He and Steve were caging you against the wall, and Steve wasted no time in latching his lips on your neck, making you whine all the while you were never leaving Bucky’s stare. 

“My, My is this what we needed to do in order for you to listen to us, we would of done it sooner.” His tone mocked you, making a shiver ripple down your spine. You couldn’t understand where all of this was coming from but you feared to ask as words might make them stop so instead, you whimpered. “I bet you feel so good coming around a cock huh?”

You gasped suddenly feeling Steve’s cold fingers slip into your jeans, past your panties and pressing harshly down on your clit. Your mind becomes clouded and your heart races, hips grind on his hand to ease your frustration. “P-please…” You beg for something, anything. For one or both of them to hurry up and give you the pleasure you’ve been so desperately craving for who knows how long now.

“So pretty when she begs huh?” Steve purrs in your ear, making your eyes leave Buck for a split second to look over to the shorter male. Bucky took your distraction to step closer until all three of your bodies were smooched against one another in the tight hallway. Hands everywhere, feeling any part of your flesh they could find. While two tongues lick along your neck and exposed chest. You were overwhelmed and both of them were going to use it to their advantage and make sure by the end of the night you were nothing but a whimpering, crying mess.

#1-800-jjbarnes #marvel #jjbarnes #bucky barnes #bucky #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #stucky x y/n #stucky x plus size reader #stucky x you #stuck x reader #stucky x reader #stucky #mcu steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers smut #steve rogers #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes imagine #chris evans x plus size reader #sebastian stan x plus size reader #sebastian stan x you

[lovebugism]

How about "89. I’m drunk and fall asleep in a snow bank and you’re the kind stranger yanking me to my feet and lecturing me on how dangerous that is" with Steve?

ty for requesting!! — steve harrington rescues you, his worst enemy, after finding you all alone on a snowy bench on main street (enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, tw for toxic relationships, 2.4k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

On his way home from the Wheeler holiday party, Steve thinks he sees a dead body in the snow.

He slows at a stoplight and knows he sees a dead body in the snow.

With nothing but sheer stupidity and a savior complex, the boy rushes out of his warm car and into the vacant road on Main Street. The piling snow crunches under his sneakers and dampens them instantly. Crystalline flakes fall from the pitch-black sky at a merciless rate, sticking to his lashes and his fuzzy Christmas sweater. 

The snow glistens as it clings to the limp body lying on the bench. A girl, Steve realizes as he gets closer — a pretty girl in a pretty dress who’s not at all clothed for this kind of weather. 

He steps closer, blinks snowflakes from his eyes, and realizes that it’s you. The reigning princess of Hawkins. The homecoming queen. His absolute worst enemy. 

Steve loses his sympathy in an instant. Now that he knows you’re not dead, anyway. 

But he nudges at you gently — just to make sure — and you grumble something unintelligible into your folded-up arms.

“What are you doing?” he wonders aloud.

“What’s it look like?” you slur, rubbing your cheek against your sleeve like a cat.

“It’s freezing out. You know that, right?”

“Really?” you muse sleepily, eyes still shut. “I haven’t noticed.”

Steve scoffs a bitter laugh and rolls his honey eyes. He puts his hands on his waist, cocks his hips to the side, and leers down at you even though you can’t see him. He wonders if you even recognize his voice — if that’s the reason you’re being so short with him or if you’re just too drunk to care.

“It’s good to know you’re still a priss after all this time. It’s really refreshing, actually.”

He expects you to argue with him. That’s what you used to do, anyway. Your relationship (or lack thereof) is built on this kind of petty, meaningless banter. So he feels a little empty when you don’t bite back. Maybe even a little bad.

You fall back to sleep, a soft snore sounding from your throat. You shift in your slumber and it sends you rolling off the bench. Steve catches you before you can. He puts you back into place with two warm hands around your arms.

“Alright. Get up,” he says with an annoyed huff.

“No, thank you,” you sigh, still sleepy.

“No. Seriously. Get up before you get frostbite.” 

His voice is coated with an obvious concern. You don’t miss it — not even in your exhausted, drunken, and heartbroken state. Maybe that’s why you don’t fight him as much when he forces you to sit up, but you’re still hardly more than dead weight. He’s forced to hold you so you don’t fall over again.

Steve can see you better now that you’re fully upright. Snowflakes stick to the strands of your done-up hair, made-up lashes, and the knit material of your dress. Your eyeliner is smudged beneath your eyes, and your lipstick has been mostly kissed off. There’s a hole in the knee of your tights, too, and scuff marks on the toe of your boots.

You’re pretty. You’ve always been pretty, but just a little extra now. Way too beautiful to be all alone on this bench in the middle of Main Street.

“What are you doing here?” Steve blurts as he crouches in front of you. Snow wets the knee of his jeans, but he’s too distracted by you to care. “Where’s your boyfriend? Why isn’t he with you?”

He can’t even say the name — of your douchebag boyfriend, that is. Just thinking of the words Billy and Hargrove makes him feel like vomiting. Steve didn’t think he could hate anyone more than he hated you until he met that asshole. The two of you deserve each other, really.

Your tired head lolls to your shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut as you shrug.

“You weren’t with him?” the boy presses.

“I was,” you slur dramatically. “But he left.”

“He left you?”

You nod, slow and lazy.

“He left you here?”

You nod again.

Steve’s chest stings. His heart aches for you, even though he knows it shouldn’t.

“Why?” he agonizes.

“I got too drunk at a party… And I talked to a guy he didn’t like very much.”

“Then what?”

You start to go limp in his hold. Exhaustion weighs you down again, accelerated by the winter’s bitter cold. Steve squeezes your arms to keep you upright. Your eyes open again but the lids of them are visibly heavy. 

“Um… We fought in the car. And he told me to get out,” you explain in mumbled slurs. Your voice is calm and airy, as light as the falling snow. You’re too drunk to understand how heartbreaking this is. “And I tried to get back home, but then I forgot how to walk.”

Steve’s eyes start to burn. He feels like he could cry. Because sure, you’ve been his enemy since the third grade, but you’re soft and you’re gentle and utterly undeserving of Billy’s assholery. 

Because of this (and his lingering savior complex), he feels the overwhelming urge to take care of you.

“Here. C’mon,” he huffs as he rises to full height again, jaw tense to keep his teeth from chattering. He tugs at your arms to pull you up with him. You comply (as best you can on frozen, drunken limbs) but not without confusion. Your face twists with it.

“What?” you murmur.

“Get in the car, okay? C’mon.”

You plant your feet. It becomes virtually impossible to move you. You and Steve idle at a standstill with your shoes digging into the piling snow. Your toes feel close to frozen, but your hands are strangely warm with Steve holding them so tight.

“No,” you insist, dramatically stubborn in your less-than-sober state.

“No?”

“Billy will get mad.” 

Steve scoffs. “Screw Billy.”

“I do that already.” Your reply comes so swiftly, and without a single hint of a smirk, that it’s impossible to tell if you’re joking or not. Maybe you aren’t and you’re just too drunk to understand sarcasm. Maybe you are joking and the receptors in your brain aren’t firing properly enough to tell you to smile at yourself.

Either way, Steve’s face scrunches with disgust. “Gross,” he mumbles under his breath.

—————

Steve has to drag you to his car. 

He puts his palm over the crown of your head to keep you from bumping it when you duck inside. He guides your legs in, too, when you have trouble maneuvering them. Then he reaches over to buckle you in before you have to ask him for help — because god knows there’s no way you could do it on your own.

He smells like cedar and something sweet when he leans over you. His whole car smells like that, actually. It’s nice. Comforting. Almost achingly warm. 

You curl into the heated seat and provide exactly zero help when he drives you home.

“You still alive?” he asks after a couple minutes of driving.

You grunt, slumped over in your seat with your forehead pressed against the window.

“What’s your address?”

“Hm?” 

“Where do you live?” he presses.

“Why do you wanna know, perv?” you slur, obviously not all there as you shift to get more comfortable in the passenger seat of his car.

Steve scoffs. “Oh, right. I’m the perv ‘cause I didn’t leave you out in the freezing cold. Makes so much sense. Maybe next time, don’t call me when your asshole boyfriend abandons you, alright?”

He’s bitter. Intentionally hurtful. 

You’re too drunk to understand. “I didn’t call you in the first place,” you retort sleepily.

He falters. “Well— you know what I mean.”

“I can’t go home,” you answer finally.

His structured features twist with concern, but your eyes are closed so you don’t see it. His honeyed gaze squints with worry, flitting from your limp form to the darkened road and back again. “Why?”

“‘Cause I live with Billy. And he doesn’t want me there,” you tell him with a lazy shrug. Then, more quietly, you mumble. “Nobody wants me anywhere…”

You say it so softly that he barely hears it. He wishes he hadn’t. It’d make it a whole lot easier to hate you if you were still the same priss he grew up with. He isn’t so sure that you are — or if you ever were. All you are to him now is a heartbroken girl he found in the snow, in desperate need of some kindness.

So when you drift off again, he lets you. And he doesn’t wake you until you get to his house.

You feel the warmth of his presence first — the weight of his chest at your side and his hand on your waist. Your heavy eyes flutter open to find him leaning over you. He fusses with the seatbelt buckle for a moment before it clicks.

“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, voice weighed down by exhaustion. There’s a million questions swirling in your head right now — where am I, why are you here, why are you taking care of me. That was just the first to slip out.

“Good. Now I don’t have to carry you,” Steve jokes.

He holds your hand to help you out of the car, then wraps an arm around your waist to keep you from falling. He guides you towards a too big house, lit up white with expensive Christmas decorations.

“Where are we?”

“My place. You can sleep off the alcohol on my couch.”

Your head lolls to your shoulder, eyes red-rimmed and glassy as you blink up at him. “And they say chivalry is dead,” you tease, still slightly misarticulate — though not nearly as much as when he found you in the show.

Steve’s rolling his eyes at you one moment, silently scolding himself for getting out of his car in the first place — and the next, he’s standing in his kitchen, filling up a glass of water and putting slices of bread on a plate for you. He even cuts off the goddamned crust. Just in case.

He left you on the couch in the living room, but you’re gone when he gets back. It’s like he blinks, and he’s annoyed with you all over again. A huff tumbles from his mouth as he trudges up the stairs to find you.

The door to his room is cracked open. 

He finds you curled up in the center of his bed.

“No. Nope,” Steve scolds as he walks further inside. He sits the bread and the water on his nightstand and tries to shake you awake. You’re totally knocked out, hardly anything more than deadweight from the alcohol. 

And he can’t even be mad at you about it because it’s not even your fault. You shouldn’t have gotten left in the first place.

“C’mon. Get up— you’re not sleeping in my bed,” he insists. His hand curls around your arm with the intent to pull you up before he realizes how cold you are. You’re freezing, even over your dress. The notion makes Steve stop in place. 

He squints to take a better look at you — to really look at you — and swears the color of your skin is tinted blue from the cold. Your mascara is smeared — from where you’d been crying, maybe. He thinks those might be dried tear stains on your cheeks, too.

All at once, he doesn’t have the heart to wake you. He curses himself for being so hard on you. You never deserved it — not tonight, not ever — and he figures this is his time to atone.

He maneuvers you beneath his navy blue sheets with a warm and gentle hand. He brings the top of the comforter up to your jaw and you curl into his bed on instinct, sighing as you settle further into the warmth. 

Your eyes are still closed and you’re still barely conscious, but the pillow is soft against your cheek. It smells like floral detergent and musky cologne and sweet-smelling hairspray. It brings you a foreign comfort that lulls you into a deeper, much-needed sleep.

Steve settles beside you, over the covers and with his clothes still on. He wants to be awake in case you need him. He doesn’t want you to get sick and not be alert enough to help you. 

He’s laughing at the sound of your gentle snores one moment, then falling asleep to them the next.

Hawkins’ royalty. Arch enemies since elementary school. Sleeping together in one bed like you haven’t spent the majority of your lives hatingeach other.

You sleep soundly together in spite of all that. You don’t wake for several hours — not until you’ve slept the alcohol off and your suddenly sober brain reminds you of the night before. Touchy guy on the dance floor, Billy’s rough hand around your wrist, “God, you’re such a slut!” 

The last thing you remember is passing out on a bench on Main Street, so you’re not entirely sure how you ended up in a bed. 

You wake with a start, distinctly and palpably terrified. 

You’re rousing wakes Steve up, too.

“Billy?” you murmur, heavy with sleep, as you squint in the navy blue darkness. 

A part of you hopes it was all just a too vivid nightmare. Or, at the very least, that your boyfriend came to his senses and picked you up after completely abandoning you — but somehow that feels more unrealistic than all the shit he put you through the evening before.

“No—” Steve answers groggily, then clears throat when the word gets stuck there. He rises to his elbows and looks over his shoulder at you, squinting a tired eye to see you better. “No, it’s— it’s Steve.”

He can’t see you too well, not in the pitch black of his bedroom, but he swears he hears you sigh. One of relief, maybe, or maybe one of ease. Either way, you don’t seem very upset that he’s here with you.

“Oh,” you answer, still a bit breathless. “Okay…” You lie back down again, feeling eons safer than just seconds before, as you curl back into your shape on his mattress. You sigh into your pillow and try not to gravitate towards the warmth beside you.

Steve’s hands fidget with a similar fight to keep from holding you. “It’s okay,” he settles on instead, hoping his words can embrace you in a way he doesn’t let himself. “You’re okay.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: blurbcember

[blushweddinggowns]

Part 2

He has no right to be here.

He knows that.

He does.

Eddie watches as people pile into the church, all of them dressed to the nines. It's a Harrington affair through and through, and the sight of all these people that he knows Steve hates makes him feel sicker than he already is.

If he wasn't on the edge of crying he would have laughed at himself, like he had any right to judge anyone here. He's the one who dumped Steve. Perfect, wonderful, lovely Steve who just needed a few more years. He just needed to make sure the kids were safe until they graduated. But Eddie couldn't do it. He needed to leave, and Steve needed to stay.

So he ended it. Just like that. He ended it.

He hasn't seen him for three years. By all appearances, it was a good choice, the best thing he could have done for himself. Because against all fucking odds Eddie Munson ends up as a success. He's a star, a famous musician discovered in a shitty little bar. He somehow managed to actually live the dream he used to fantasize about.

He lives it up. He parties, he drinks, he fucks, he spends his early twenties being young and dumb like he always wanted.

And it's horrible. It's so horrible that it becomes hilarious to him. Because he knows why it's so bad. Of course he knows. But it's better this way, really. Because Steve deserved better than him anyway. He deserved someone he didn't run away, full of flimsy excuses of wanting to be out of the shitty town that made him. When the truth was he was scared. He was terrified about how much he loved him. Because what was he going to do when the day came when Steve realized he could do better?

Eddie wouldn't have been able to surivie it. So he left instead. Like the coward he was. He left so he could be miserable and famous but at least Steve could finally find someone who deserved him.

So it really was all for the best. That's what he tells himself, because if he doesn't he'd go insane wondering about what could have been. He has himself convinced that he made the right choice. Maybe not for himself, but at least for Steve.

He doesn't realize how bullshit all of that was until Dustin lets it slip. They're doing the normal routine. Dustin visits, Eddie spoils the shit out of him, and on the last day he asks about Steve. He always tries to keep it casual. Tries to never let his desperation to know what's happening shine through. But it always does, bad enough that Dustin can't help the pity in his eyes when he tells him.

Steve's getting married.

Eddie wasn't aware just how much words could hurt him until that moment. He'd been called every bad name under the sun, a queer, a freak, a fag, you name it and it's been said. But this is the first time someone else's words make him feel like he's dying.

He wasn't invited to the wedding. Why would he be? But he still found it. Because he's a glutton for self-punishment. He hadn't seen Steve for three fucking years, and he chooses to wait till his wedding day?

But it's too late for regret, he's already here. His eyes keep scanning the room, just waiting for him to show up. He probably looks like a creep, dressed in all black and fucking sunglasses, sitting right by the door. He's basically in a fucking disguise, mostly to stop Robin from finding him and kicking his ass.

Speaking of, his eyes widen at the sight of her. She's slipping out of a door to the side, quickly wiping at her eyes before joining the crowd of people. His eyes drift back to the door.

Eddie's on his feet before he knows what he's doing. It's stupid, maybe the stupidest thing he's ever done, but where Robin is, Steve is sure to follow.

And he's right. It leads to a small dressing room. And there he is. Just like that Eddie's in front of the only man he'll ever love. Or at least, behind him. They were alone, and Steve hadn't even noticed him yet, too busy adjusting his hair in the mirror.

He still has time to leave. Besides, he didn't come here to ruin everything. He didn't, really.

But he doesn't turn around. Instead, Eddie locks the door behind him. He takes off his stupid sunglasses and clears his throat to speak, but is immediately rendered speechless when Steve turns to look at him.

He's just as gorgeous as he remembered.

His eyes widened at the sight of him, mouth opening and closing like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. Why would he? Eddie never reached out. He ignored the times that Steve did, always too ashamed of himself to face his own mistakes.

Eddie always expected Steve to lash out when he saw him, if he saw him. Lord knows he deserved it. But he doesn't. He just looks...sad. And those basset hound eyes are almost enough to bring Eddie to tears himself.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asked, voice quiet.

Eddie hadn't actually prepared anything to say. His plan was to watch the love of his life marry someone else than drink himself into a stupor at his hotel. He...he hadn't expected to end up here. But there are a million things he wants to say to him.

I'm here to tell you I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a coward. I'm sorry I wasn't good enough and I made it your problem. I haven't stopped thinking about you. Ever. There hasn't been a day that goes by when I don't regret leaving. And I thought, maybe, just maybe if I saw you move on with my own eyes I could let you go.

But none of that is what comes out of his mouth.

"Run away with me."

If Steve didn't look shocked to see him before he sure did now, "W-What?"

"Run away with me," He repeats. Because it's what he wants. It's what he needs. It's been three years of hell without him and Eddie can't do it anymore. He can't.

He hates that he's the cause of the tears springing up in Steve's eyes, but he can't take it back. He won't.

Steve looks away, eyes trained on the floor, "You can't do this to me Eddie. You can't."

But he is.

Eddie's made his choice. He was a fool to think he was capable of coming here without trying to steal him away. Of course this is where he'd end up. And he'll say anything to get him back. He doesn't care that he's too late. He doesn't care that this whole thing makes him a bigger piece of shit than he already was.

He'll be underhanded, he'll be dirty, he'll do anything to get Steve to leave with him, he doesn't fucking care. Because Steve Harrington is not going to get married today.

He waltzes right up to him. He grabs his chin and forces him to meet his eyes. He probably looks crazy, he feels crazy, "You don't love her like you love me."

He's never met her. He doesn't need to. The way Steve freezes up is all he needs to know that he's right.

He doesn't deny it, but he deflects, "Why are you doing this? You left me. Did you forget that part? I didn't end it. You did! A-And now what? We're just going to ride off into the sunset together? Like you weren't the one to just cut me out of your life-"

"Yes," Eddie interrupts. He feels calm, eerily so as he speaks, "We're riding off into the sunset together. Even though I don't deserve it. I never deserved you. And I was so fucking scared of when you would realize that. I let it eat away at me. So I left. Before you could do it to me. And I was wrong."

"Stop," Steve tries to step back, but Eddie won't let him. He wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close.

He can't stop talking, even if he wanted to, "I was so wrong Steve. And I've been miserable ever since. Because I couldn't stop thinking about you. I'll never stop thinking about you. Even if you tell me to go to hell and get hitched I'll just wait for a divorce. Because you are the only one for me. And it took me too long to say that out loud. And I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry Stevie."

Steve weakly tried to push him away, but his heart wasn't in it, "Please stop."

But he can't, "I love you."

Steve's eyes are closed, a futile attempt to keep the tears at bay, but his voice comes out strong, "Eddie, I-I can't do this again. I can't. If you left me again I...I just can't."

Eddie can't help but wipe a few of the tears away for him, "Angel, look at me."

He waits for Steve to open his eyes. He looks so fucking beautiful that it hurts, especially since this may really be the last time he sees him again.

But he has one more trick up his sleeve, "Tell me you're not mine and I'll leave."

"W-what?"

"Tell me you're not mine. Say the words out loud and I'll let you go."

Steve stares at him. He's mad, beyond pissed that Eddie has the audacity to throw that in his face, but he's desperate. It was the last thing he said to him, murmured through the driver's side window of the van, seconds before he drove away.

I'm still yours, even if you don't want me anymore.

Eddie had cried the entire ride there after hearing that. And then a few days after for good measure. And here he is, completely ruthless at what he's willing to pull out, "You're mine Steve. You know you're mine."

It's such a fucked up thing to say, but it's true. But it's not the whole truth, "And I'm yours. I've always been yours. Tell me that's not true and I'll leave."

But Steve can't. He can't do it, just like Eddie had known he wouldn't. But what he hadn't expected was for him to surge up and kiss him.

It feels like he fell in love all over again, just from one simple kiss. Because it felt like magic was real and it decided to take on the form of Steve Harrington's lips. It was everything he had missed. Everything he had dreamed about. Eddie tangled a hand into his hair, helpless to do anything but kiss him back, harder and deeper. He wanted to be burned into Steve's memory for all eternity. He wanted him to always remember the moment that they came back to each other.

Because that's what this is. Eddie's certain, Steve was his, and he would never let him go again.

They only stop when there is a knock at the door, a muffled question asked that they can't hear over the sounds of their own breathing. It's enough to have them pulling away from each other, but they ignore it nonetheless.

Steve searches his face, one last test. Eddie can only guess how he looks right now, probably just as desperate and terribly hopeful as he felt. Whatever he's looking for, he finds it eventually.

Steve sighs, glancing toward the back of the room, "There's a window we can probably fit through. Because I'm sure as hell not going out there."

Now it's Eddie's turn to cry. Despite all of his confidence, the certainty that they were supposed to be together, he hadn't really expected it to work. But here they were, giggling with each other as they scurried out of a first-floor window, making a run for Eddie's car.

Eddie can't help but kiss him again before they get in, muttering against his mouth, "I love you so fucking much Stevie. I'm not going to fuck this up again. You won't regret it, I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you don't."

Steve grinned into the kiss, "You better."

There was still so much to talk about. Too much. And they'll fight and they'll scream and everything will get worse before it gets better. And Eddie's so fucking grateful to get the chance.

And for the first time in three years, he feels alive again.

#steddie fic #steddie #steddie ficlet #look at me writing this instead of steddie wip i havent looked at for two weeks #idk where this came from #eddie munson #steve harrington #i do not condone this behavior but god damn is it romantic #if it helps it was a pretty shammy marriage to appease his family but that poor nonexistent bride is in for a bad time #but hey it's better than him cheating on you after you're married right? #wedding #ruined #whoops #its a bad idea to run away with your ex you havent seen in years but damn they did it anyway #angst is in there #breakup #they get back together in a very dramatic fashion

[eddiesxangel]

Kiss Me Underneath the Mistletoe | Mechanic!EddieMunson x Friend!Reader

Cw: Eddie and you share your first kiss. Fluffy goodness. Implied smut (Mentions of a car accident but no injuries) Eddie and the reader are both in their 20’s. Use of nicknames for reader. GN Reader :)

WC: 1.5k

The party was in full swing when you pulled up to Steve’s driveway. Eddie offered to pick you up because your car was still at his shop. Your card had gone into a tailspin on some black ice and got stuck in a ditch a few days ago. You were okay; only some minor damage to the bumper had to be fixed. Thank god you had your mechanic friend's phone number memorized.

“There you are!” Steve sounded exasperated. There were about fifteen cars parked outside his house, and music and laughter filled the home. It was warm and comforting, but Stevie looked stressed.

You really had only been half an hour late. You had to rush home from work with no car, so you had to take the bus, which took ten times slower. Only to get ready, and then you and Eddie had to rush to the bakery before they closed for the evening to pick up the Christmas cookies you promised to bring tonight.

“Sorry Stevie, I had to pick up the goods.” you wiggle the box of Christmas cookies you had picked up. And Eddie wiggled the bottle of bourbon in his hands to show you brought gifts.

“Yes!” Dustin said as he zoomed past you, swiping the sugary treats out of your hands.

“Hey!” You placed your hands on your hips.

“Sorry! But can’t wait any longer! You’re late enough; we only get these once a year.” Dustin was not sorry.

“Whatever, just save me at least one” you giggle.

“I’ll sneak you some, don’t worry,” Eddie whispered in your ear as a fantasy of his lips touching your neck comes to the forefront of your mind. Your body shivered from the proximity, and only Eddie noticed. He knew he got you. You would be his tonight whether you knew it or not.

The night continued without a hitch; dinner was excellent, and there were games, music, and many more drinks afterwards.

There were a lot of people here you didn’t recognize. Mostly Steve’s coworkers from the office. You had gotten separated from the group when a few of them cornered you with the most god-awful conversation about trades and charts and who knows what.

You finally spot someone out of your group, thankfully Eddie, who can read your face better than anyone. You made the save me eyes, and he beelined to your rescue.

“Hey, there you are! I need your help in the basement. Steve needs us to bring up more booze.” he rests a hand on the small of your back.

You quickly and politely excuse yourself from the conversation, and as soon as the basement door closes, you let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god! I don’t think I could stand another moment; I don’t know how Steve does it!”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll always be here to save you,” Eddie smirks, his big hand still on your lower back, guiding you toward the cold cellar.

“Oh, we are actually getting drinks?” You question.

“Yea, babe, what did you think we would be doing down here?” he playfully wiggled his eyebrows before passing you a smaller case of beer while he took on the heavy load. You were a little disappointed; you thought you might get some alone time with Eddie before returning to the party.

You make your way back up to the sounds of cheering and laughing, unsure what’s going on. You both make it into the kitchen, restocking the cooler and fridge, oblivious to the crowd following Steve, who came running in, waving around some green and red plant while simultaneously spilling his red cocktail on the floor.

“Kiss!” Steve pops up behind you and Eddie, startling you both.

“What the fuck, man”—“You scared me!” You both say simultaneously.

“Too bad, you gotta kiss,” he says, wiggling mistletoe above your heads. You scan the group behind Steve; all your friends stare at you like zoo animals.

“Wha-” “Come on-“ you and Eddie were cut off.

“My party, my rules, you’re standing under the mistletoe. You gotta kiss,” he smirks like he knows what he is doing. It wasn't a secret to your friends you had a crush on Eddie.

“Steven!” You scold. Did you want to kiss Eddie? Yes. Did you want to do it forced in front of all your friends?! No.

As you stood your ground, it became more apparent that Steve wasn’t leaving until Eddie planted one on you.

You look to Eddie to gauge his feelings, but his poker face is not helping.

"You really don't want to kiss me that bad, sweetheart?" he raises a brow to you. Maybe he had read your situation wrong.

"What? No. Yes. No! I just want-" You were cut off because you heard your friends begin to chant behind Steve’s stupid, smug face.

“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”

“Fine!” You succumbed to the peer pressure. You turn and grab Eddie’s head in both hands, pull him down, and plant one on him.

If you were paying attention, you would have heard the cheers from your friends. A minute later, you would have heard the gags and them scurrying away when Eddie stuck his tongue in your mouth. You would have heard Steve mumble “atta’boy” before leaving you two alone, but you didn’t hear anything other than your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

All of your senses were consumed by Eddie. His mouth was soft and gentle like he didn’t want to break you. He tasted like cranberries and bourbon. His tongue broke through, and you let out the slightest whimper as your hands moved from his cheeks to his waist…. His tight little waist that you have been drooling over since you saw him in that tight black tank top with his coveralls hanging off his waist, sweat dripping down his chest and grease-stained skin. When you walked into his work for the first time all those months ago. He was pure sex appeal that day, and you hadn’t seen him the same way since.

Eddie’s hands crept up from the waistband of your pants, slipped up under your shirt and grazed the soft skin of your back. Goosebumps spread throughout your whole body as Eddie continued to pull you closer to him.

You could have been there for a minute or an hour, you didn’t know, but the moment finally broke when Dustin walked back into the kitchen for those special cookies you’d brought.

“Oh my god! Get a room” he rolled his eyes, and the two of you broke apart, not realizing you were sucking face and feeling one another up in the middle of Steve’s kitchen like you were two teenagers.

A rush of blood spread across Eddie’s face. His lips were just as red as his cheeks. Your face was also just as hot. You could feel the rush of blood travel up your chest to your throat and across your cheeks as you took in what had just happened.

An uncomfortable giggle left your lips, and Eddie swore he heard angels singing. A smile broke on his face, and you felt at ease.

“You wanna get out of here?” Eddie reaches out a hand. You grab it while frivolously nodding your head. Eddie pulls you through the crowded house, trying to slip past everyone.

“Get it, Eddie!” “That’s my boy!” “Finally!” “About damn time!”

All your friends shout, and you hide your face in Eddie’s chest while he pulls your coat out from the closet.

Eddie giggles as Steve approaches the both of you, blocking the door.

“So when’s the wedding? Do I get credit? Or does Eddie? 'cuz he asked me to set up this elaborate ruse?” he wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you.

“What?” You looked at Eddie, and he chuckled uncontrollably.

“I’m going to have to cut you off, man. No more Christmas cocktails for you.” he swiped the crystal glass from Steve’s hands and chugged the rest.

“Hey!” Steve drunkenly protested.

“What’s he talking about Ed’s?” You giggle.

“Ol’Eddie here asked me to help divide a plaaaaan to get yo-” Eddie cupped a hand over Steve’s mouth and smiled at you with the biggest grin that said he was guilty.

“Real smooth, Munson,” you playfully roll your eyes.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He stepped closer and lifted your chin up to him. He was so cocky, but it made your stomach do a summersault at his touch.

“Ok, turtle doves, get out of here already and make a little drummer boy,” Steve winked.

“Ew, you're gross Steve! Ed’s right, no more cocktails for you.” Robin grabbed Steve by the arm and whisked him away while you and Eddie giggled out the door.

“So you’ve been wanting to kiss me?” You bite your lip as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Yeah,” he sighed as he pushed up against the car while looking into your eyes.

“You know you didn’t need to drag Steve into it” you giggle.

“Well, where’s the fun in that baby?” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you again. Your body felt it was on fire even though it was below freezing outside. You didn’t care. Eddie’s warmth was enough, and his warmth was indeed the thing that kept you warm for the rest of that night.

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson imagine #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #Eddie Munson x friend reader #mechanic!eddie munson #mechanic!eddie x reader #older!eddie x reader #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x male reader

[ultralightpoe]

Full House ll - Eddie Munson

Authors Note: Went from cute fluff to straight angst. Sorry?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (not Eddie and reader though), angst angst angst. A fight.

Word count: 10,009 (ohhhhhh boy)

Part l HERE

(THANK YOU FOR THE GIF @feodor-dostoevsky)

(Warning. This chapter contains hints of domestic violence and if any of my readers are going through that you deserve better. I love you all, also Motley will be showing signs of abuse this chapter. It's a long chapter that I'm really nervous about and I really hope you guys like it <3)

Enjoy!

Eddie had been in a pissy mood on Halloween morning of his second year as a senior, mostly because his friends that had graduated last year were all going out to awesome college parties and he was stuck redoing school. Embarrassed and alone. 

But he sucked it up, wearing his favorite leather jean combo as he walked into the halls of hell, keeping his head down while people passed by him in a flurry, excitement and laughter in the air. 

He had planned to just keep his head down and make it to class, no need to get into something with Harrington and his cronies. He had enough of their teasing and bullshit to get him by for the rest of the year. 

Normally it was fine since he had friends, but now he was alone. 

A body slamming into a locker pulls his attention to where someone in a rustic leather jacket was slamming one of the juniors into the wall of metal. The kid being assaulted was called Jeff, he was the only black kid in the grade and Eddie had seen him around a lot. The kid didn’t hang out with anyone and seemed lonely. 

Shit. 

The one slamming him was Billy Hargrove, a new kid that seemed to immediately become one of the cool ones. He spent most his classes not caring and any free time harassing everyone else. Eddie had his fair share of issues with him already. 

It would be a good idea to just walk away and let them handle this on their own, but Eddie could not do that. If there was one thing his dad taught him it was that he could take a punch and his Uncle Wayne always told him that you should always stand up for the weaker man. Even if Eddie wasn’t strong enough to beat Billy “steroids” Hargrove, he was strong enough to take a hit for someone else. 

A sigh falls through him as he makes his way over, tapping the shoulder of the assailant quickly, the second Billy has his eyes on him Eddie shoves him quickly. 

Billy reacts in an instant, hands clenching into his jacket, swinging Eddie around until it was his back being slammed into the lockers. A grunt passes his lips as he sends Jeff a quick look to escape while he can, the kid gives him a grateful smile as he snatches his backpack and dashes off. 

“If it isn’t the super senior!” Billy laughs bitterly, pulling Eddie forward and shoving him back into the lockers harshly. 

Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him. Don’t hit him. 

“What you doing here bud?! Trying to get your ass-“ Eddie loses some of his patience after the third hit into the lockers and hits Billy’s hands off of him, shoving him back enough that Billy nearly trips over his feet. 

Gasps fall from the crowd as Billy glares, staring wide eyed at him as he sneers. Eddie tries to play it cool, the anticipation of a fight howling beneath his skin as he preps himself. 

Before they can get into it Steve Harrington pops up, his back to Eddie as he watches Billy. “Not that I don't want to see how the freak handles business but the principal is on the way.” 

Billy casts one more glare, walking off quickly as Harrington turns to Eddie. 

“You stupid or some-“ 

“Yeah yeah. We get it Harrington. I’m a repeat senior.” Eddie snaps, rolling his shoulders to relieve some of the pain. “Why don’t you find a new joke?” 

“Sorry, I was just trying to make sure you were good.” Steve sighs, rubbing the back of his neck before moving to pick up what Eddie had dropped. 

“I don’t need help from you.” Eddie snaps, snatching the lunch box he had gotten from Uncle Wayne and walking off quickly. 

-

Eddie had spent the better part of that year dealing with Hargroves shit, the only thing that made him feel better was the fact that Steve Harrington seemed to be having his own issues with Billy. Then the summer between his second senior year and his third Billy Hargrove died. 

Eddie had avoided the pool that entire summer but he heard about it from Jeff the day the mall caught on fire. The next thing he knew Max was moving into the trailer near his and Wayne’s and everyone was bothering her and her mother about it all but they seemed like they didn’t want to talk about it. 

After he dealt with VECNA they all explained a little about what happened, and when El closed the gates and fixed the time warp she ended up bringing a couple people back. That’s how he came back. 

No one had seen Billy, so everyone assumed he didn’t come back. Even Barb had shown back up (though her memory was hazy on everything). 

Now, Billy Hargrove stood in the doorway of his home, catching Motley when she ran to him with an easy smile. “There’s my baby!” 

Eddie doesn’t know what to do, stuck between anger and shock, watching this play out before him as Ziggy grabs at his jaw. The little toddler leans to kiss his cheek, a wet open mouth kiss that normally makes Eddie laugh, but this time he just stands there. Waiting for the “just kidding!” Or someone to pinch him so he can wake up. 

“Sugar,” Billy starts, keeping Motley in his arms as he stares at Eddie. It takes him a moment to realize that when he says sugar he is talking to you. “Why is there a drug dealer holding my daughter?” 

- 

“I can explain-“ you start, watching Eddie angrily set up the crib in your shared room, jaw tensed and eyes heavy with anger. “Eds please.” 

“You don’t need to explain.” He snaps, turning quickly. “No actually. You do. What the fuck?”

“I met him a couple years back. Okay? It was a one night stand from a bar, he was new in town and I ended up getting pregnant. After that he said he wanted to stay together because of the baby and I didn’t want to parent alone so I said yes-“ 

“So you’d rather have parented with a racist jackass then?” He laughs bitterly. You draw back, eyes wide as he does so before he sees you get defensive. 

“I didn’t know about any of that. Okay? He was sweet with me for the most part-“ 

“For the most part?” 

“He had moments of anger, sometimes I got hit. But he always made up for it. And then I got pregnant again and I thought I was happy and then….” You trail off then, shaking a bit. “I left for a reason.” 

“He hit you? More than once?” Eddie bites out, hands on his hips. 

“It was fine-“ 

“No no no. It wasn’t fine. But the fact that you’re saying it was fine and you say he made up for it means that you didn’t leave because he hit you, you left for another reason.” He sees you get nervous under his gaze and he knows he’s figuring out. Anger coursed through him at the fact that Billy had ever laid a hand on you in the first place but it’s beginning to reach tenfold when he puts the pieces together. “He hit Motley?” 

“I-“

“You were okay with him hitting you, which makes me upset that you thought you deserved that, but the second he hit Motley you ran.” He fills in the blanks, watching as you crumble before his eyes with tears falling freely. 

“Ohmygod-“ you sob, covering your eyes. 

“And that’s why you’re so weird around Max because when you came out here you recognized her, right? And when we all shared the truth of what happened you recognized Billy in it? And you didn’t say anything because-“ 

“What was I supposed to say Eddie?! That I was dumb enough to fall for it?! That I slept with a racist abusive asshole one night drunk and then agreed to let him move in with me because I was scared even though I knew nothing about him?!” You snap, tears streaming down your face. “You guys would have thought the worst of me. You guys are going to think the worst of me- maybe I should just grab the girls and go get a hotel-“

“Hey hey hey.” He eases, reaching for you as you stand up to leave. His hands find your hips and he pulls you in for a hug. “No. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry-“ 

“I’m sorry. I’m over reacting and being a pain in the ass because I’m surprised is all.” He mumbles, kissing your head and keeping his nose pressed into your hair. “You are very brave for leaving him, yeah? And I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, you’re not stupid you were just played. You always think the best of people and you are so fucking brave for getting the girls out of there.” 

He lets you sob into his chest for a minute, rubbing your back in comfort as he holds you to him tightly. 

Eddie was gonna figure this out. He was gonna find a way to get Billy Hargrove out of his life for good. 

-

The morning was always filled with excitement, mostly on Motley's part. She loved getting ready for the day, for all the things she would do. She loved talking yours and Eddie’s ear off about the plans for the day. Then she would be crankier when she got home and she knew it was time for bed, but Eddie loved her in the mornings because he loved seeing her excitement. 

He wore his glasses in the morning, while he helped get them ready for the day since you both liked to tag team the morning and get the process done faster. This morning was his turn for Motley, who currently sat at the table blabbering on about how she was excited for secret santa while Eddie sat at the stove watching the pancakes bubble. 

“-and I keep thinking what if Vinny gets me? He will probably get me the dumbest thing ever and I would be so upset. But what if Troy gets me, oh I hope Troy gets my name- Daddy are you listening?” 

“I’m listening, pretty girl.” He smiles, looking over her shoulder where she sat coloring. “You hope Troy gets you. Cause you have a big ole crush on him.” 

“DO NOT!” She yells which makes him laugh and turn back to the pancakes. Before he knows it he feels a pair of arms wrap around him, with you kissing along his exposed back slowly while ge fights off the blush. 

“You cooking bacon without a shirt, handsome?” You smile and he tries not to laugh. 

“I can’t feel half the skin on my stomach anyways.” The scars made sure of that. “You want a piece of bacon?” 

“I’ll wait to eat with you and the girls. Did we get any yogurt on our last trip to the store?” You ask, moving to the fridge to check. Eddie takes a moment to admire you before looking to where Ziggy sits in her high chair, playing with a piece of paper that Motley gave her. 

“Morning metal head.” He coos, walking forward to kiss her head. She giggles and claps before Motley follows what Eddie did, kissing her sisters head. 

“Come here Daddy.” She smiles, and he bends down to let her kiss his forehead which makes her laugh. 

He sets them both up with plates, eating breakfast quickly before rushing to get a shirt on as you bring them both to the door to get them in shoes. When he gets back he finds Motley with her arms crossed and shaking her head. 

“What’s going on?” 

“She found out Steve is taking her to school.” You sigh, trying to grab her foot. 

“I want Papa to take me. He said he wanted to!” She snaps and Eddie watches you tense up, choosing to intervene here. 

“I got this, go grab her bag.” He smiles, switching spots with you. “Alright. No playing around. Metalheads put their shoes on when told.” 

“But daddy-“ 

“Ah.” He holds up a finger and she sighs before grabbing the left shoe and moving to put it on her right. “Wait. This is a good time to teach you left from right.” 

“I’ve got time.” She smiles , watching him. 

“Alright. This is left,” he holds out his left hand, the metal bracelet he always wears drawing Ziggys attention as she waddles closer. 

Motley holds out her right hand, repeating “left.” 

“No. That’s right.” 

“I’m right?” 

“No. That hand is right.” 

“Yeah daddy. I know I’m right.” She scoffs, staring at him like he’s insane. 

“No pretty girl. You’re opposite of me, like a mirror. So if this is my left hand you’re left hand would be….” He picks up her left hand, wiggling it a bit. 

“Oh. So this would be my right hand.” She mumbles, shaking her right hand. 

“Exactly. So if this is your left shoe it would go on…..” 

“MY LEFT FOOT!” She yells excitedly which makes him smile. 

“You got it! You rockstar!” He helps her tie it, letting her rest her foot on his thigh before switching the feet and tying the next shoe. 

“We ready to go?” You ask, coming around the corner and smiling. 

“Daddy taught me my left from right, Mommy!” She giggles, rushing to get her bag and holding your hand as you lead her out of the house with Eddie close behind, Ziggy in his arms trying to reach for the bandana on his head. 

“Hey Uncle Steve,” she calls, running up to him to hug him. “I know my left from right!” 

“You’re a genius kid!” He smiles. You pull her attention, kissing her forehead before kissing Steve’s cheek. Eddie follows, kissing Motley then snatching Steve and kissing his cheek which makes everyone laugh. Ziggy coos the second she sees Steve and he instantly makes grabby hands at her. 

“There she is, my pretty little angel.” He coos, bouncing her up and down as Motley climbs in his car between his two sons. Vinny glares while Jackson waves his grubby little hands. The kid was four and thought the best thing to eat was a crayon. 

“You know what gender the baby is yet?” You ask, watching Steve with Ziggy. 

“No. But Nancy is sure it’s another boy.” He sighs out. “And she wants to name one after her brother.” 

“Do we need another Mike?” Eddie laughs which makes Steve laugh as well. 

“That’s what I said!”

“Alright, I have to head off. Drop Ziggy off at daycare before work. Have a wonderful day boys.” You smile, grabbing Ziggy from Steve who sighs in disappointment, before kissing Eddie and heading off to your car. 

Steve turns to Eddie, a raised brow, he opens his mouth to start asking but Eddie holds up a hand. “Nuh uh. We don’t talk about within hearing age of Motley.”

“Why’s that?” Steve asks, squinting. “She get upset?”

“The opposite.”

“But the guys a massive dick!”

“And that’s her dad.”

“You’re her dad.”

“No, I’m the step dad.” Eddie sighs, something clenching in his gut. “I gotta get going. Thanks for dropping Motty off.”

- 

The thought that he was just the step dad stuck, it clung to him like a second skin, sticking like a shadow over the sun. He thought about it while he tucked the girls in, and when he woke them up. He worried over the thought of Billy fighting for custody and turning the girls against Eddie. 

He was just the step-dad. 

This is what he was thinking about as he changed the oil on one of the cars in the shop, a frown stuck to his face as music played in the background. It was Dylans, the other repairman that worked today, turn for the stereo and he was playing all the rock hits. Which included ‘rock you like a hurricane.’

And all Eddie could imagine was his girls having a dance party but instead of him being there it was Billy. Billy dancing with them to all the music and-

“HI DADDY!” Motley shouts, making Eddie gasp in shock, whipping his head to find her on all fours so she could see him under the car. 

“Hi pretty girl.” He smiles, using the cart to roll out from under the car and sit up, whipping the bandana off his hair as she whirls around the car to attack him, roaring like a tiger as she jumps on him. “What are you doing here?”

“School let out early today, they have their christmas party tomorrow and then winter break.” You explain, walking around the car with Ziggy on your hip, still wearing the cute diner uniform. “Motley wanted to come grab you for lunch.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiles, laughing when she slips a bit and he has to catch her before she hits the floor. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Pizza.”

“Pizza?!” He acts shocked, eyes wide as she begins laughing. “Well I don’t know about that…. I don’t really know if I like pizza.”

“You LOVE pizza.” She scoffs, jumping up and dashing to the radio to turn it down. “Does Dylan want pizza?”

“Why thank you for asking little lady.” Dylan smiles, wiping his hands on his suit. “I love pizza.”

“Hear that daddy? We have to go get pizza for Dylan.” Motley sasses, coming back over to snatch Eddie’s bigger hand between her own. “Get uppppp!”

She groans as she tries to lift him, and Eddie picks himself up so she thinks she was able to do it. “Jesus you are strong.”

“I pulled a secret santa today, and you’ll never guess who I got!”

“Troy?” 

“No.” She sighs, disappointed for just a moment before her face lights up again. “I got Samantha, she likes jump rope.”

“Yeah? Is that what we are gonna get her then?” He chuckles, moving to wash his hands as you go and put Ziggy in the car. 

“Well I don’t know. I don’t want my gift to be too basic and not surprising. But I want to make sure she actually likes it. And do you think-” Eddie lets her ramble, grabbing her hand and leading her to the car as she goes on and on about the ideas she has for gifts. 

-

The store was busy when Eddie took Motley Christmas shopping, holding her hand in his own as walked across the street and headed into the warmth. He had been more focused on making sure she wore a coat then grabbing a coat heavy enough for himself. 

The second she is in the store her eyes widen and she makes a mad dash to the kids aisle, Eddie right behind her trying to slow her down a bit. 

“Alright, take a look and see what you might like to get Samantha.” He huffs, breathing into his palms to warm up his face, ignoring the weird look he gets from a do-good mom passing by in her expensive shoes. 

He had gotten used to the looks by now, it’s not like he screamed father with his leather jacket and tattoos, but you always told him that he was a better father than any country club dad you had ever met. And he was constantly lecturing Motley that ‘it’s what’s on the inside that counts’ so how would this be different?

“How about this?” She asks, picking up a barbie car that makes Eddie’s eyes go wide. 

“Isn’t there a price limit on this thing?” He blurts, moving to check before she is completely gone and looking at something else. 

“Can I get a dollhouse?”

“For Samantha?”

“No, for me silly..” She laughs, like it was the most obvious thing.

“We are supposed to be shopping for your secret santa cheeseball.”

“Oh, right.” She sighs, moving back to the barbies. “How about for christmas?”

“Have you asked Santa?” Eddie smiles, and she shakes her head. “We’ll write a letter tonight, then.”

“Okay.” She giggles before pointing to a ken doll. “Hey daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Santa already answered my wish this year.” She mumbles which makes Eddie look at her curiously. “Last year I asked Santa to bring my dad back. And he did even better.”

Eddie’s heart practically shatters as he tries to smile at her, the vast empty feeling at her words killing him. Of course, what little girl didn’t want her dad on christmas, and she wanted Billy. 

-

Steve was suspicious of him the entire Christmas party, giving Eddie the side eye every chance he could while you sat not far off with Nancy gossiping amongst yourselves. 

Steve was room mother, and as much as Eddie made fun of him for it his friend was an amazing room mother. He had thrown the class’ holiday party at his house rather than that stuffy classroom so that the parents could come as well. His house, which was already insanely decorated for Christmas, had tons of ‘activity stations’ for the kids to do. Motley and Vinny were currently arguing over what color gumdrops they wanted to put on their gingerbread house. 

Charles, Samantha's dad as Eddie found out, had wavered off after talking to Steve and himself for the past hour and finally the two men were left alone. “Who knew parenthood would be just like highschool again?”

“You’re telling me.” Steve snickers. “I feel like-”

“King Steve again?” Eddie taunts, shaking his head. 

“Oh no no. You can’t make fun of me since you’re apart of the cool kid club this round.”

“No I’m not-”

“Oh yes you are. Please, everyone talks about you and Y/n. One, all the moms think you are attractive and so gentleman like for taking on the girls. Two. The dads are jealous of you cause you have this cool rock thing going on while still being a parent. Three, everyone loves Motley. She is the class princess. Everyone wants to play with her at christmas, if she shows up to their birthday party then their year is made. Admit it Munson, you’re raising a prom queen.”

“I don’t think I have much to do on that front, and it’s more to do with I’m your friend and you are the Room Mom.”

“Shh not so loud.” Steve mutters. “Nancy has been feeling a little guilty about being ‘less of a mom’ cause she spends all day at work. I tried telling her it was fine but she thinks it’s a bad look that her husband is room mom and not the actual mom.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad look. I think it shows that Vinny is being raised by two people who understand life a little better than other stuck up parents.” 

“Thanks pal.” Steve sighs, leading them away so Eddie can go up and check on where they put Ziggy to nap. Steve had been nice enough to set up a little crib in his room so she wouldn’t have to be dragged around the party. 

They catch up on everything, Steve complains that he think Jaxon might just be a freaky kid considering the amount of crayons and pencils he eats and how Nancy babies him. He complains that Mike is the worst uncle and never actually helps but always claims to do so. 

Eddie catches Steve up on the Billy situation, which had shocked the group to no end. 

“He’s been calling everyday, arguing that he should get visitation.” Eddie sighs, taking a swig from the beer Steve smuggled for them. 

“That’s bullshit. Tell him no.”

“Y/n is worried that he could fight and get full custody.”

“Why on earth-”

“Because she took the girls and ran. She did it for their safety but the court will never look at it like that.” Eddie sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “All they will see is Hawkins very own mall hero being abandoned as she runs to Hawkins very own freak.”

“Motley and Y/n don’t think of you as a freak.”

“Maybe not. But Motley adores Billy, and that leaves me on the sidelines.”

“That’s not fair.” Steve sighs but Eddie shrugs. 

“You know how long I hated Wayne for taking me from my dad? That man hit me and all I did for years was look up to him and try to be better. I pushed away anyone that actually cared. I know what she is going through right now, and I don’t want to be the one to ruin that love she has for her dad. Shit person or not.”

“Would you rather ruin her dad for her or have her heart broken when she is exposed to him on her own?”

“I think if he ever hurt her I would actually-”

“Kill him. I’m so in.” Steve finishes the sentence before there is a quick knock on the door. 

“Dad!” Vinny whines. “Where’s the gift?! We are doing secret santa!”

Steve sighs, moving to his dresser to grab the wrapped gift before handing it to his son. Eddie waits to follow Vinny, surprised when he turns to him rather than immediately running away. 

“Will Motley like this wrapping paper?”

“Yeah? I think she’d love it.” Eddie smiles, watching in shock as the kids dashes out. “He got Motley? Bet he hated that.”

“Nah, he was worried she might now like the barbie car.”

“Wasn’t there a price limit on this thing?” Eddie asks, raising a brow. 

“My kid is head over heels for your daughter Munson. Just be happy Troy didn’t get her. Little punk thinks he’s everything.” Steve scoffs, walking past Eddie and mumbling under his breath about Troy being a little shit. 

-

There was a new form of hell to Eddie, not having his girls under the same roof was that hell. After a very long argument it was agreed that Billy would get them for the night, they would have a fun time at the shitty motel room. 

So, after a long night of pacing back and forth, Billy finally dropped the girls off around noon, smoking easily as he carried Ziggy’s car seat in one hand. 

“Really? Right by her?” Eddie snaps, grabbing the handle carefully as Ziggy coos up at him. 

“Didn’t think you would be one to care, Munson.” Billy laughs, looking past him to where Motley stood with a grumpy look and her bag around her shoulder. “You used to make sure our class was coked out just fine.”

“Motty go inside.” Eddie sighs, moving to open the door for her, getting a little nervous when she glares and stomps in. “Has she eaten?”

Only when he turns back to ask Billy the jackass is already halfway in his car, sending a cocky smile in Eddie’s direction as he turns the speaker up loud. 

Now left alone with the two girls since you were at work Eddie shuffles inside to go find where Motley stomped off to, finding her in her room sitting on the floor and playing with a toy he didn’t recognize. 

“New barbie?” He smiles, watching her carefully. This was the first time she had ever gone with her dad and he didn't know what to expect, maybe he had been hoping for a hug or kiss. “She’s very pretty-”

“Papa got her for me.” She bites out, voice dripping with attitude. 

“Okay. You hungry? I can make you-”

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” She screams, rushing to slam her door in his face, the tiffany poster she had on it staring back at him as he blinks in shock. There had been fits, a couple of screaming fits, she sometimes called him meanie head when he told her not to do something. But she had never before slammed a door in his face. 

Not really knowing what to do he decided to focus on bathing Ziggy first, making sure the smoke scent didn’t cling to her before setting her up to eat something. 

A couple hours later you came home, a nervous smile on your face as you looked at him only to realize he was upset. 

“What happened?” 

“She’s upset, won’t come out of her room.” He sighs. 

“Let me go check on her.” You mumble, kissing him before heading to her room and knocking softly. “Hey bugs? Why don’t you come out and say hi? Daddy can make something for dinner-“ 

“Eddie can fuck off!” She screams, which makes you freeze as Eddie’s heart drops and he leans his forehead on the wall. 

“Motley Marie-“

“NO!” She screams from the other side of the door and Eddie feels like he might throw up. 

“Maybe I should go to Wayne’s tonight?” He offers, shaking a bit as he shoves his hands into his pockets. “I need to help him fix the replace his fridge anyways” 

“Eds, no.” You mumble, tears welling up in your eyes as you shuffle closer. “She’ll be fine in a bit. We just need to get her to eat and-“ 

“She’s not gonna come out to eat if I’m here. I’ll come back tomorrow to see if she’s feeling better. Okay?” He tries, rubbing your arms in a comforting manner. “Just one night, maybe she will eat and calm down” 

You shake your head, crying, but you both already know the answer. And Eddie already knows this might not work out for him. 

-

After packing an overnight bag and heading off he makes it to his Uncle Wayne’s and spends the night there, hoping Motley would feel better if he wasn’t there. 

He helps Wayne sort out the kitchen, both of them planning on switching the fridges out in the morning now that his is empty. So, later in the night, Eddie lays on the couch staring at the ceiling. 

He couldn’t fall asleep without you beside him and he’s used to seeing the hall light under the door so the girls could see if they needed to get to the bathroom or your room. 

He tossed and turned, doing his best not to get too upset at all of it before he began thinking about all the ways this could go wrong. 

He never wanted to hurt the girls, and as much as he loved them and loved you there was always that thing about “if you love someone set them free.” So, as much as he hated it, he figured maybe it was time for some breathing space. Let Motley learn about her biological dad for a bit, and he would take whatever he could get even if it was just a dinner a month. Anything to make sure she didn’t hate him forever. 

So, around 6am, when he finally managed to close his eyes and get some sleep he had decided that the best plan of action was to give his girls breathing room. 

-

When he woke up Wayne was already starting on the fridge, which made Eddie realize just how much he had slept in. Jumping up quickly to start helping, he didn’t think to call you. 

They spent the next few hours moving the fridges and getting the new one set up, making sure everything was working before hauling the old one to the junkyard. By the time they were done the sun was going down and Eddie was starving so Wayne offered to order a pizza. 

The only problem was your car was at the trailer when they got back, with you sitting on the hood smiling at him as Wayne pulled his truck up to park. 

“Hi Grandpa Wayne.” You called which made the older man smile and hop out quickly to give you a kiss before moving to say hi to the girls in the back seat. 

Eddie moves to hug you, kissing you deeply before you pull back and smile. “You didn’t call, and we called this morning but no answer so I figured you boys were busy.”

“Sorry. I slept a little late and we were fighting that damn fridge all day.” He smiles. 

“We were thinking about going and getting dinner tonight, thought we’d come pick up daddy.” You offer, holding his hand. He casts a quick look to where Motley is sitting in the backseat, laughing as Wayne pretends to steal her book. 

Breathing room. 

“I actually got more stuff to help Wayne with. That okay?”  He could see you visibly deplete, trying your best to keep smiling. 

“Of course that’s okay. Just don’t forget to call okay?” 

“I won’t.” 

“You wanna say bye to the girls?” 

“I….Not tonight.” He feels like he’s stabbed himself in the gut and twisted the knife, his throat tightening up with the urge to cry. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You mumble. “And you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” 

“Right.” He smiles, leaning to kiss your cheek. When you kiss him one last time you move to Wayne, tearing up a bit. 

“Enjoy your handyman Wayne. But I expect him back tomorrow by dinner, got it grandpa?” 

Wayne, to his credit, smiles politely and nods. Mumbling something about making Eddie work overtime as you laugh, he hears Ziggy blubber sadly, probably upset that she’s in her car seat. 

He spots Motley when you open your door to get in, leaning against the window already staring at him. There is a glum look on her expression and Eddie feels that stab wound tighten. She hates him, she can’t even smile when she sees him anymore. Billy must have told her what a fuckimg freak he was. 

Instead of crawling into the hole he wants to, he merely raises a hand slowly to wave, attempting to seem like everything was fine. 

She raised her own hand, and Eddie thinks he’s mistaken when she presses it to the glass of the window as you drive off. 

“You okay?” Wayne asks, rubbing his boys shoulder. 

“Not really.” 

-

True to his word Eddie calls the next morning, only to be surprised when he hears Motleys voice answer. 

“Hello?” She asks. 

“Hey Mot…ley.” Eddie panics , thinking that she might now like her nicknames now. “I called for your ma.” 

“Oh.” She mumbles, obviously disappointed that it was him. “I can go get her……” 

“Not if she’s busy, okay? I can call back later.” He hears her set the phone down and scamper off, feet hitting the hardwood of the kitchen as she rushes to find you. A couple minutes goes by and he hears both your voices trickle back into hearing distance, probably from the downstairs hallway. 

“- dy Eddie. He just wanted to talk to you.” He hears Motley mumble, and that shooting pain was back. Eddie. She called him Eddie again. 

Panic claws at him as he hears your footsteps get closer and he hangs up quickly, wiping the tears from his eyes. 

-

After helping Wayne around the trailer he returns that evening, feeling lame and tired. Kicking his shoes off in the doorway, hearing your music downstairs which tells him you had probably started reading once putting the girls to bed. 

He planned to shower and then go see you, so he makes his way to the room, shucking his jacket off and tossing it on the bed in the dark. 

“Heyyy.” Someone whines, making him stop and look to the bed to see Motley climbing out from the blankets and pillows, eyes wide. “Watch it.” 

“Sorry kid,” he smiles, moving to grab the jacket. “Didn’t see ya there.” 

She giggles softly, moving to the middle of the bed and turning on the light before going back to her spot. He gives her a soft smile before moving to grab clothes and heading to the master bathroom only for her to call out. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” He asks, turning with wide eyes. 

“I’m sorry I was mean and hurt your feelings. I’m sorry I made you mad.” Tears well in her eyes as she says it which makes his chest clench. 

“Hey hey. I’m not mad.” He says softly, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, she immediately crawls over and crawls into his lap. 

“You are! That’s why you didn’t want to come home!” She cries. “You hate me now.” 

“No no. Take a breath.” He tries to calm her down, rubbing her back in soft circles as she sucks in a deep breath. 

“I made you mad…”

“You didn’t make me mad, I just had to help Grandpa Wayne with some stuff. He’s old now. He needs help.” Eddie offers, still rubbing her back. She calms down a bit, face pressed into his chest as she slowly puts herself back to sleep. 

He carries her into her own room, making sure she’s nice and comfortable when he tucks her in before going back to the master bedroom to shower. 

When he comes back out he finds you waiting on the bed, a smile smile tugging st your lips. “Hey stud.” 

“Hi baby,” he whispers, moving to lay down. He gives you one kiss before laying down and shoving his face into the pillow quickly, desperate to sleep. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask, rubbing a hand on his back. 

“Nothing to talk about. I’m fine. Just wanted to give her space is all.” He sighs. 

“She loves you Eddie.” 

“I know.” He lies, closing his eyes to sleep 

-

Motley spent the next day at the Harrington household while Eddie and you went to shop for some last minute gifts you hadn’t gotten at the beginning of the month. 

With Christmas being only a week away now you were beginning to panic and Eddie was doing his best to ease your anxieties as you tried to think of what the girls would want. 

“I think we got everything.” You sigh out when you make it to the car, Eddie pushing the cart filled to the brim with bags as he rubs your back. There was something off about you today and he felt guilty that he hadn’t come home until late last night. 

“I think we did.” He moves away only to open the back of the van, beginning to pile all the bags in before he hears you gag and dash to the chunk of grass he parked near. 

“Shit- “ he snaps, tripping over himself as he tries to get to you to hold your hair. “You okay? Nervous about Christmas?” 

“Y-yeah…” you whine, rubbing the back of your hand under your nose to wipe the snot after you finish puking. “Over stressed myself is all.” 

He sighs, helping you up and getting you set up in the van before moving to finish his original task. 

He spends the rest of the day making sure you’re okay and wrapping the gifts. He tries to change his handwriting on the tags so Motley would think other people were signing them. Make her think she got a gift from Santa and the elves and one from Mrs. Claus before he took his coffee grounds and make a hoof print on the gift he had made from Rudolph. 

He hides them all in the basements laundry room, moving to wake you up when he’s done. 

-

Two days before Christmas Eve Motley and Ziggy go with Billy again, and Eddie makes himself scarce when they are dropped back off the next day, wanting to give Motley room to breathe in case she needs it. 

He hides in the basement, keeping his headphones in as he practices guitar, hearing the echo of stomping around upstairs. She had come home in another mood, that much he had figured out by the sounds of her yelling when she came in. 

The phone rings in the distance and Eddie ignores everything as he practices more riffs until your in front of him with a small smile. “That was Gareth. They wanted to rehearse? Asked if you could head over.” 

“Oh?” He asks, standing up. The perfect excuse to give Motley some space without hurting anyone’s feelings had just arrived and he was gonna take it. “I’ll head over now.” 

“Are you gonna be home for dinner?” You ask softly, face tense with worry and exhaustion. 

“We’ll probably practice too late.” He sighs, kissing you before moving to walk away. 

“Eds?” You call, making him look back at you as you stress. “Y-you’re okay…… right?” 

“I’m okay.” He lies. Really he feels pathetic, useless, a lame ass excuse for a stepdad. ……he feels like his father. 

She just needs space.  He thinks to himself, smiling at you. But deep down he already knows it’s not working. He loves his girls but if they don’t love him back then he is just dragging them down. 

And his heart breaks at the thought of the inevitable. 

I don’t wanna say bye.

As he passes the hallway to pack clothes for the night he sees that the Tiffany poster on Motleys door had been ripped down the middle, and he risks a peek in to find it the missing piece wadded in the trash along with her fleetwood poster she got around thanksgiving. 

Sighing in defeat he shuffles to grab his bag and head out. 

-

 The morning of Christmas Eve he wakes up to find that sometime in the night Motley had crawled into bed with you and Eddie, curled up between you two with tear streaks down her face. 

Nightmares, nasty little things. 

He kisses her cheek lightly before getting up to get ready for work. By the time he is putting on his boots he finds her yawning and sitting up. 

“Are you leaving?” 

“Only for a bit.” He tries to sound positive. “I’ll be back soon.” 

“Swear it?” She asks, eyes wide. 

“Triple swear it.” He smiles back, and something eases in him when a smile breaks out across her face, going from ear to ear. 

So he leans to kiss her cheek, taking the good mood while he can before heading to work and coming back home by 5. Only to find Billy’s Camaro in the driveway when he does come home. 

Walking into the house, tense and tired from the day, to find Billy sitting on the couch as you work in the kitchen. You send him a quick look and Eddie follows, rushing into the kitchen with you. 

“He invited himself for dinner.” You whisper. 

“Why?” 

“Because Motley told me I couldn’t come for Christmas morning.” Billy snaps from the doorway, leaning on it like he owned the place. “Which is really fucking weird considering that I’m her dad. I should be able to see her on Christmas. And I can only assume that you’re the one saying no Munson.” 

“Hadn’t even known that we had that discussion but sure. I’ll take the hit.” Eddie smiles. “Cause you are 1000% banned from this house on Christmas Day.” 

“You can’t separate me from my kids.” Billy snaps. 

“We’re not. You can have dinner with us tonight, but you can’t be here tomorrow.” There were far too many people coming tomorrow that Eddie did not want having to deal with Billy, and he didn’t want your day being ruined by this asshat. 

“I’d prefer the dinner to be a family occasion” Billy snipes. “And last I checked you weren’t.” 

“Eddie is family.” You snipe back, backing up when Billy glared at you. “This is our home. His home. He stays.” 

And before he knew it everyone was seated at the table, in the most uncomfortable dinner of his life. You were just pushing food around your plate, while Eddie was doing his best to stay cool. 

“How are your grades Motley?” Billy asks, turning a heavy look to her. 

“I’m one of the top in my class-“ 

“One of?” Billy interrupts. 

“They have top three. They all tie in that spot so the kids don’t lose self esteem in the competition.” Eddie explains, tapping a ring on the table in annoyance. 

“That’s bullshit. If her grades are the best then that needs to be said-“ 

“She’s doing fine. Her grades will help win a pizza party at the end of the year.” You snap, rubbing her cheek. 

“I just want to make sure I’m not raising a retard that turns into a super senior.” 

“What’s that mean?” Motley asks, wide eyed as Ziggy shoves some spaghetti in her mouth. 

“Oh baby, it’s noth-“ you begin but Eddie cuts you off, looking her gently. 

“It means I wasn’t good in school. I got held back from graduating for three years. That’s right. I was held back another year after you…. Well you know.” 

“You got something to say to me, jackass?” 

“Not really.” Eddie snipes, picking up his plate and heading to the kitchen before he loses his temper. Lucky him that Billy was set to follow. 

“So this is where Motley gets all that attitude huh?! Some shit for brain pathetic piece of shit starts raising my daughter, showing her shit music and telling her the world is all rainbows and sunshine. Right?!” 

“We’ll she’s 7. The world is supposed to be a little brighter-“ Eddie starts, watching as Billy grabs the front of his jacket and shoves him into the cabinets behind him. 

“You think you’re something, huh?! Well you’re nothing more than a trailer trash piece of shit!” Billy yells in his face, and Eddie remains bland. Not letting any motion on his face as he shrugs. 

Motley was going to hate him. 

This would never work because your kids needed to come first, and Eddie knew that. He would always put them first. If he stayed with you Motley would soon begin to resent you. 

He couldn’t let that happen. 

“No. I don’t think I’m anything more than a piece of shit. I’m quite good in that life.” He shrugs. “And it’s not shit music that she was listening to, it was her choice of music. Music she liked, and if she likes it then it’s not shit.” 

Billy laughs bitterly, then Eddie can do nothing but watch his hand pull back into a fist, getting him right in the face. 

Pain shoots through his face as his head hits the cupboard behind him hearing the wood crack at the impact. Motley screams out loud “DADDY!” And Eddie assumes she’s screaming for Billy to stop. 

He didn’t want to hit her dad in front of her, so he took it. Punch after punch from Billy before you jump on the man’s back, hitting him to get him off Eddie. 

Billy pushes you off quickly, making you tumble to the floor as Motley runs for you before you try and ease her back. Eddie can’t feel his face but he knows it’s swollen and bloody, spitting out the taste of iron as he swipes a hand under his nose, pain shooting through him when he does so. 

Motley is still screaming, over and over “DADDY DADDY!” And when Billy takes one aggressive step over to where she is in your arms Eddie finally loses it. 

He shoves at Billy’s back, drawing his attention back and taking one quick swing across Billy’s cheek. One of his rings slices his cheek as Billy’s head whips to the side. But Eddie doesn’t stop, too built up on protective rage. 

Ziggy is screaming in the background, Motley crying for her dad while you hold her back. Eddie takes a couple more hits, pushing Billy to the door so they wouldn’t have an audience. Only problem is the second Eddie pushes Billy out he finds a cop car already waiting, the cop hopping out and rushing to the scene. 

-

Christmas morning was spent inside a jail cell with a broken nose, Eddie laying on one of the benches staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about how much his face hurt right now. 

One of the neighbors had heard yelling and called the cops, who had taken 15 minutes to respond. And since Eddie didn’t start hitting back until the end he could only assume that meant he had taken nearly 15 minutes of that beating. 

What a fucking coward. 

He had hit Billy in front of Motley. Oh my god her entire Christmas would be ruined right now. He was an absolute piece of shit. 

“Hey kid?” Someone calls, making Eddie try to open his unswollen eye and see. Hopper stood there in mundane clothes, sighing in disappointment. “Thought we agreed last time I arrested you that it would be the last time.” 

“What can I say?” He croaks out, dropping his head again. “I’m trailer trash. Always have been and always will be.” 

“Come on pity party.” Hopper sighs, unlocking the door. “You’ve been cleared. Witness statements.” 

So they had questioned you. Fuck. 

When he grabs his rings and jacket from the clerk he doesn’t bother putting them on, keeping everything in the bag including his chain and wallet. He puts the shoes on, groaning in pain when he bends over, before moving to see that Wayne had come to pick him up. 

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie grunts, not bothering to smile due to the cut on his lip and cheek. 

Wayne doesn’t say anything, merely leads Eddie out, keeping a hand on his arm to help lead him to the car since he can only open one eye. 

When they are both jn Wayne lights a cigarette, handing it to his nephew. “Have some before we get there. Relax you a bit.” 

“Get where?”  

“Your house? It’s Christmas? We agreed I’d bring gifts for the girls and get a nice meal?” Wayne asks. 

“No. I’m not going there. Not like this and not after that.” Eddie snaps, tears falling from his eye as he thinks about it. That would just ruin Motleys Christmas even more. He couldn’t do that. 

“I just wanna sleep.” 

“Edward Wayne Munson.” 

“Wayne John Munson.” 

The sigh that falls from his uncles lips tells Eddie that he won. 

-

(A POV from you? Gasp!) 

After watching Eddie and Billy both get arrested you had to give a statement to the police, not like you could actually get a word out considering you were sobbing. 

Eddie was bleeding profusely and could barely open his eye when they dragged him to the car, Motley sobbing at your hip as they did so. The officer talking to you tried to calm you down, rubbing your back in a soothing motion that didn’t work and only stressed you out more. You begged them to let Eddie go but the officer said it was protocol and that you should call in the morning to give your statement. 

But you didn’t. You sat there with that cop until you calmed down and gave a proper statement, he said he would write a report and get it all sorted so you took Motley in. Getting both girls showered and ready for bed. After tucking them in, still crying, you found yourself moving to the kitchen to clean up the mess. Starting with the the broken glass that had fallen, then the dishes before you moved to scrub the floor, crying harder when you had to scrub Eddie’s blood. 

At some point Motley came out, rushing into your arms to keep sobbing so you took her back to yours and Eddie’s room to try and get her to sleep there. You put her in one of Eddie’s sweatshirts before laying with her and trying to calm her down. 

“He hurt daddy.” She sobs. 

“Honey, Eddie was just trying to-“ 

“No. Billy hurt Daddy.” She explains. “It’s my fault. I told him he couldn’t come over on Christmas!” 

There it was. You had wondered since Billy brought it up, you hadn’t said anything and Eddie hadn’t. So why had Motley? 

“Why would you do that Motley? That was an adult decision that you should have let me tell him. I don’t want you getting in trouble because-“ 

“He’s mean to daddy, I didn’t want him bullying daddy! Okay?!” She cries, swiping her cheeks. “But now Daddy hates me! He hates me mama!” 

“No. He doesn’t. He doesn’t hate you, okay?” 

“He does!” 

It took all but 30 minutes to lure Motley out of room after Eddie left for Wayne’s, promising her some chicken nuggets for dinner and that was it. 

She ate silently with you before bath time, then when you sat with her on the couch before her bedtime while Ziggy slept in her crib, you noticed her watching the door every 2 minutes. 

“What’s wrong?” You whisper, smoothing out her still damp hair. 

“Is daddy Eddie coming back for bedtime?” She asks, scratching her arm. “He always lays with me.” 

“He’s gonna be at Grandpa Wayne’s tonight. Helping him out with something. We will see him tomorrow, okay metalhead?” 

“Okay.” 

Only when you called the next morning there was no answer, Motley getting dressed beside you with a look of excitement on her face as it rang. 

“Is he there? Ask him when he’ll be home!” 

“He didn’t pick up ,baby, I’m sure they are busy. We will see him later okay? Maybe we can have dinner at the diner.” 

And that’s what she talked about for the rest of the day, you tried asking about her time at Billy’s but she simply shut the conversation down. By the time dinner time came about she was upset that Eddie hadn’t come back so you offered to go to Grandpa Wayne’s and pick them up. 

You had been there for about 5 minutes when the van pulled up and you could hear the gasps of excitement from Motley when Eddie hops out. 

Inviting him to dinner, only for Eddie to be nervous and say no. He looked upset, and you were beginning to panic deep down. 

Please don’t leave us. I love you. You wanted to say but you were pretty sure that would scare him off more. 

Who wanted the mother of two with the racist abusive ex? Right?

When you drove off without him Motley was just as upset. “Why didn’t he come mama?” 

“He had some more stuff to help with.” You answer, smiling at her through the mirror. 

“Why didn’t he say hi?” 

“He’s just not feeling good.” Lie lie lie. 

The next day you were doing laundry while Motley was dashing around upstairs and Ziggy was waddling around you. 

The sound of the phone ringing didn’t draw your attention since you were too busy trying to kick the washing machine into working. But when your daughter dashed down the stairs you looked at her. 

“PHONE!” 

“Who is it?”  You ask, laughing at her excitement as you snatch Ziggy up and follow her up the stairs. 

“Daddy Eddie. He just wants to talk to you though.” And you found yourself rushing to the phone, only when you got there it was just the dial tone. 

“Is he coming home? Can I do his hair when he gets back?” She asks hopefully. 

“Maybe later.” 

By the time you realized he was back Motley was on her own bed and the shower to your shared bathroom was running so you laid on the bed waiting for him to come out. 

When he did your heart beat out of your chest, nervous and in love. 

He laid down, face in the pillow as you let him know Motley loved him. 

All he could say was “I know” before falling asleep and you were heartbroken. 

He’s gonna leave. 

Two days before Christmas Eve when Motley is dropped off from Billys  he doesn’t say a word, merely tosses her bag at you as he slams his car door and drives off. 

Motley storms past you, pushing into the door as you carry Ziggy in, watching her in shock. “I HATE HIM AND I HATE YOU!” 

Eddie, who had been waiting in the kitchen, sulks downstairs to give her space and you feel a twist in your gut. “That’s not fair to Eddie, Mot.” 

“I’m not talking about Eddie. I’m talking about HIM!” She screams, stomping to her room and ripping the poster from her door. 

“Hey!” You snap, following her and trying to get her to stop as she tears down the Elvis and Fleetwood Mac poster. 

“I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM! It’s bullshit!” She screams, slamming the door. Only she slams it so hard it creaks open a little. Before you could make it worse the phone rings and you find yourself heading downstairs to tell Eddie about the call. 

The excitement on his face breaks your heart as you realize he is so desperate to get away from you. Jesus you trapped him didn’t you? 

By the time Motley comes out of her room she looks around for a minute, sitting at the table. “Where’s daddy?” 

“Band practice.” You smile. 

“When will he be back?” 

“Don’t worry about that. Just eat.” You felt bad about the short answer. But you were upset about the way she was acting and you were upset that she said she hated you. Not to mention the way she ripped the posters and the way Eddie seemed to run from you. 

You already dragged her away from Billy once, now she was going to lose another father because of your mess. You were a terrible mother. 

She hates me , and so does Eddie. 

“He will be here, okay? Daddy would never miss Christmas.” You smile, crying softly yourself. “Just wait and see. Daddy will be home.” 

She calmed down a bit at your promise, laying beside you. 

“I asked santa for dad back last year….” She mumbles. “And he gave me an even better one.” 

“Yeah, he did.” 

You don’t get a lick of sleep, waiting all night for the sound of the door to open. They had to have released Eddie, right? 

You overthink it all as you sneak all the gifts out to the tree, ones that Eddie wrapped while you were sick and see all the dedication he put into them which just makes your heart melt more. 

When the sun starts coming up you realize that maybe no officers were there to release him and they would in the morning during normal processing hours so you focus on starting the meal and getting the girls ready. 

Motley refuses to go near her presents, choosing to wait for Eddie. You’re okay with it, letting Ziggy open a gift since you know it will take her forever. 

You focus on cooking while Motley waits on the couch watching out the window. 

But then people start showing up for the early dinner and you begin to let that panic sink in. Steve shows up, his two sons dashing for Motley as Nancy waddles in behind them. They thought three dishes that they add to the table. Steve asks about the broken cabinet but before you explain Lucas and Mike show up with their own dishes. 

One after one they all show up and sook enough you break from the crowd to go in your room and call the station. 

“I’m looking for Edward Munson? He should have been released by now but-“ 

“He was released two hours ago.” The kid on the phone sighs. “Anything else.” 

You don’t respond, choosing to hang out and close your door so your guests don’t see you cry. 

He wasn’t coming, you had messed everything up like usual. God you were pathetic. 

Just as Billy would say, useless as hell. 

Shuffling to the bathroom to try and catch your breath, turning on the water and sitting under it as you try to ease the panic attack. 

The pink pregnancy test box stares back at you from the trash bin, the actual test on the counter where you had planned to surprise Eddie. 

God I can’t do anything right. 

Part lll HERE

(OHHHH I really hope this chapter didn't disappoint. Please please please no hate on it! If you want to see something specific such as a blurb or scene with Eddie and the girls feel free to request. -Ultralight)

Taglist::: (Let me know if you want removed)

@localemofreak @paradise-summertime @jenniquinn @eddiesxangel @mariamayhemrsmunson @venuslayla23-blog @cherrycolas-things @scout141 @thehuntresswolf @natie335 @alyisdead @animechick555 @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @mysticpeachobject @jackiosstuff @slytherinroyalty16

#eddie #munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fan #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanart

[holylulusworld]

Every breath you take (Prologue)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time

A/N: We start slow to get to know them and their backstory. In this part it's Bucky.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes lost so much in his life that he doesn’t even know how he keeps on going. 

He lost his family. 

He lost his life. 

He lost his arm.

He lost his freedom. 

He lost himself. 

He lost his best friend. Steve Rogers - the only person connecting his past with his present. The one promising him till the end of the line. Well, the line wasn’t very long he thinks ever so often.

He walks the streets in a place he doesn’t recognize anymore. In a world that is so different from the one he used to know.

Before Hydra everything was simple.

Now, strangers stare at him, whispering behind his back while others ignore him. 

Bucky is not the most social person. He mostly stays to himself. Who wants to befriend the former winter soldier anyway? 

In his opinion, it’s for the best to not even try. This doesn’t mean that he never feels lonely. He often strolls through town and watches people with their families.

Bucky wishes he could’ve someone by his side too. A woman who doesn’t judge him for his past, or for the issues he still has.

How does a super-soldier and former brainwashed killer find such a woman? 

No woman will ever let him protect and spoil her. That’s all he wants. Find a pretty doll to take care of.

“Coffee. Black,” Bucky gruffly tells the barista his order. All the different drinks on their menu confuse the super-soldier. Why drink an iced coffee with some crazy flavor if you can have the best drink in the world? Black coffee.

The barista smiles at him. Her cheeks dimple and she batts her long fake lashes when Bucky holds her gaze for a moment.

“Thanks,” he pays and tips her well. Bucky may be a lot of things, but he isn’t the kind of person who does not appreciate other people’s work.

“Have a good day,” the woman chirps when he turns around to leave the cafe. Bucky doesn’t react. He stops in his tracks as someone else catches his attention. 

“Doll,” Bucky gasps loudly. The woman passing the coffee shop by is the one he almost ran into last month. This must be fate. Right? 

He walks out of the coffee shop, to follow the woman. She’s greeting the elderly owner of the bookstore Bucky discovered a few weeks ago. 

The man immediately smiles and straightens his back. He makes a joke and calls her by her name. “Hello Y/N!” The man says and waves back.

“Y/N,” Bucky murmurs your name. “Wow…doll…” He’s taken aback. His heart sped up for a second seeing you again. Now that he has heard your voice, he wants it to be the only sound he’ll hear for the rest of his life.

He strolls past the bookstore and follows you along the street. Whenever you stop to look at the window display at the different stores you must pass by to reach your home, he stops too and pretends to be interested in the products he’ll never buy.

At the end of the street, Bucky tilts his head to watch you walk away. He’ll wait a little longer to follow you. The experienced super-soldier doesn’t want to draw attention toward him. He doesn't want to scare you off. All he wants is to get to know you better…

Right across the street. You live right across the street. 

Bucky’s heart did somersaults when he followed you to your home only to realize that you were living in the building across the street. 

He didn’t try to make friends or to get to know his neighbors. This way he missed that he could look inside your windows.

It’s five hours later that he’s sitting on a chair, in a dark room to watch you talk on the phone. You wrinkle your forehead and close your eyes.

“Hmm…I think she’s having a bad day, Alpine,” Bucky tells his cat while following your every move with his brand-new binoculars. “Maybe we should do something nice for her. Like finding out who made her sad…”

And just like that, Bucky has a new mission...

Every Breath You Take (1)

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #tw: stalking #stalker!bucky barnes x reader #female reader #bucky barnes x you #Every breath you take (Prologue) #bucky barnes x y/n

[weird-an]

It's way after midnight, on fucking Halloween and Jim just wants to go home. He knows that Joyce left pumpkin soup on the stove for him and possibly a few candies, too.

He has to shoo away the kids loitering at the quarry and then Hawkins' fate rests in Callahan's mostly incompetent and careless hands, but Jim doesn't give a fuck. He has seen the worst that Hawkins had to offer and El protected them all from it. What a brave girl - his daughter a voice inside him says, louder than the whisper that he isn't her dad and he never will be, that he doesn't deserve it.

Jim groans when he pulls up to the quarry and sees the car that is parked there. The Camaro's seems to laugh him in the darkness.

Billy Hargrove is a problem. He's collected more speeding tickets than anybody on record, he's picking up fights in the few seedy bars in town and it has all gotten worse since Starcourt. Jim thought nearly dying would get some sense in that kid.

Jim grabs his torchlight and opens the passenger's door.

"Hey Hargrove, trick or- Steve?"

"Fuck!" Steve Harrington turns around, plastic vampire teeth falling out of his mouth. He wraps a black cape around himself to, oh God, protect his modesty.

Jim's cheeks burn. He did expect Billy to be drunk and miserable again.

"Chief."

Billy's face looks about as red as Jim's feels. There is a crooked halo resting on his blond curls and behind him Jim can vaguely spot some white feathers. An angel. Of fucking course.

Jim huffs out a laugh. "Good one - your costume."

This is absurd. But a better scare than monsters, he guesses.

"Thanks…?" Billy mumbles.

"No loitering," Jim says, feeling more secure on known terrain. "You know this, kid."

Billy rolls his eyes. "It's Halloween, no one behaves tonight."

Very angelic, Jim thinks.

"We were just.. on the way to mine. Must have taken the wrong turn," Steve rambles.

"Right," Jim snorts. "Better go home before the sun rises, Dracula."

Steve purses his bottom lip.

"Can I get your hat for next year, Sheriff?" Billy asks.

"Fuck off and go home."

Jim turns around. No point in waiting for these idiots.

When he gets to his car, he hears Steve yell: "He didn't say 'fuck and go home'!"

Jim floors the gas pedal. He needs some candies, because, Jesus, every Halloween in Hawkins is kinda scary.

#exhausting hopper with harringrove #harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #jim hopper

[rebeliz7]

CHARMER

Wanda Maximoff x Black Widow Reader

Request: A request for Wanda, where people are constantly asking her out , but R says no to all of them, until on day she's so fed up with it and spills the fact that she's a lesbian and in love with Wanda.

Word count: 2974

“Someone looks great today.” Sam casually says as he leans forward to rest his elbows on the kitchen island, where you’re enjoying a cup of coffee by yourself and he can have a better sight of you. 

“Is that a compliment, wings?” You grin at him and he grins back, his eyes glinting as he very openly checks you out. 

“Picture this.” He tells you with a hinting raise of his eyebrows and puffing chest. “You and me, in a nice restaurant, delicious food and tasty wine.”

His confidence impresses you, not that you’re about to tell him that. Besides, he’s not the first one to ask you out this week, and he won’t be the first one to be met with a gentle no. 

“Are we dressed to the nines?” You still play along, mostly because humor is the only way you can deal with their advances, and his smile widens. 

“I’m wearing a three piece, and you’re in a tight low cut dress. Have you seen me in a three piece? We look great! Everyone around us is jealous about how good we look.” He says, and you take a sip of your coffee. He looks so hopeful that you almost feel bad for what you’re about to say. 

“Sorry, wings. I’m busy for the rest of the week.” You tell him before you take your cup to the sink, and he groans playfully. 

“Come on, girl.” He says but you’re already walking out of the kitchen.

“Thanks, babe. But I’m not going on a date with you.”

“That was cold.” He tells you with a pointed look, and you wink at him, which makes him smile.

Not that you don’t find Sam extremely attractive, but he’s not exactly the person you’re interested in.

…

Wanda is the kind of person that can light up a room with a single smile, and you always notice. 

“Hey, babe.” You kiss her cheek in greeting as you walk over to her when she enters the gym.

“Gross.” She scrunches up her nose adorably, her hand on your chest pushing you away, and you kiss her cheek again in jest. 

You’ve been in the gym for two hours already, you’re drenched in your own sweat, and she looks like she just got out of bed. 

“You need to shower.” She laughs, and playfully cleans her cheek with the back of her hand. “How long have you been here?”

“A couple of hours.” You shrug easily, your eyes firmly locked with hers. God! She’s beautiful, and you’re a goner. 

“I’m gonna do the mandatory thirty minutes on the treadmill and you need to, please, shower.” She tells you, and your chest tightens so unexpectedly that you take a deep breath to get a grip, and you open your mouth to blurt everything out, but you catch yourself a millisecond before you do. 

You want to tell her that you find her incredibly adorable, and that you cannot stop thinking about kissing her. God! You want her to know that you want her, all of her. You want her to count on you because you’d never let her down. 

Jesus Christ! You have no idea of when you turned into this person, but she makes you want to blurt out Neruda and such. She makes you want a relationship, and it unsettles you as much as it scares you. 

“Breakfast first. Shower later.” You tell her, and she gives you a confused look before she practically shoves you out of the gym. 

“Get out of here, or I’ll never get anything done.”

You leave her to it, but you can’t stop thinking about her smile for the rest of the day.

…

“So.” Natasha says as she slips in the empty seat next to yours. “Steve did not take your rejection very well.”

You’ve been watching Wanda help Vision make a cocktail behind the bar for the last couple of minutes, and Natasha’s words are so unexpected that your brain has to take a couple of seconds to process them, and then catch up.   

You blink a couple of times, all the while feeling Natasha’s eyes glued to your profile. Steve asked you out yesterday, but you never thought he’d share your rejection with anyone, not even with Nat. 

“He told you.” You speak, but you do not give into her tactics. She’s aiming for a reaction but you’re both spies, and she should give you a little more credit than that. 

“He told everyone.” She laughs before taking the glass of scotch she’s been holding, to her lips and taking a delicate sip of the amber liquid. 

“He’s not my type.” You shrug and she hums, her eyes assessing you openly. 

“If the boys are not your type, then maybe I am.” She tells you, and you’re pretty sure that if you’d have been drinking anything, you’d have spit it out right then. 

“Do you guys have a bet going on or something?” You ask her conversationally, but the little smirk on her lips tells you that you’re not as subtle as you wish you were. 

“At this point I’m just curious.” She tells you as your eyes find Wanda across the room again. Vision is watching her with a look that you can easily read, as can everyone else in the room. He’s in love with her, even if he doesn’t really know what love is. 

“Don’t tell me you have a thing for Vision.” Nat laughs, and you join in. 

“He’s handsome, untouched and willing to learn. He’s a catch.” You tell her and she laughs, shakes her head, and when you catch her eyes she’s giving you a knowing look. 

“So Sam asked you out, and you said no.” She says and you hum, nodding your head. “Bruce did too, and you also said no to him.”

“What are you getting at?” You ask her with an amused smile on your lips, but unwilling to have her narrate the last couple of weeks of your life. “If there’s a bet going on, I want in, and fifty percent of the profits.”

“Steve asked you out yesterday and he’s over there now, trying his hardest to avoid being anywhere near you.” She continues, completely ignoring what you just said. 

“Boys will be boys.” You tell her in a mocking tone, and she sips her drink once more, humming and looking at you curiously. 

“You’re not that into guys or you’re in love with someone already.” She says, her eyes firmly locked with yours.

“Love is for children.” Your response is immediate, a well programmed answer for a concept that you were taught to despise. 

Your eyes instantly flicker towards Wanda, and Nat hums thoughtfully by your side. Wanda’s eyes meet yours and she smiles, and your heart does this strange thing that makes you feel as if you’re suffocating, and living all at once. 

“Love is love.” Natasha tells you, and you feel yourself sagging in your seat. “There’s no bet. We’re just curious, that’s all.”

… 

When Carol casually asks you to dance with her on New Year’s Eve, you don’t think anything of it until you catch the look in her eyes when she spins you around. 

It’s been a couple of weeks since your talk with Natasha, and you still have not gathered the courage to ask Wanda out, or even make a move at all. 

“I have a question for you.” Carol says and you try to avoid looking into her eyes. But when you’re pressed against each other, dancing in the middle of the living room, it’s near impossible. 

It’s a small gathering with only the team, and a few close friends. You agreed to welcome the new year among the people you trust the most and it’s been an enjoyable evening so far. 

“You hair is getting long.” You tell her, careful to keep your hands on her shoulders, and not anywhere suggestive. 

“Is that a subtle way to warn me out of my question?” She shoots back, and you look around you quickly. 

Clint is dancing with his wife, and Tony with Pepper, while Frank Sinatra’s ‘something stupid’ softly plays in the background. 

“No. Maybe.” You tell her, a soft smile on your lips. “Ask away.”

“You want to go out with me?” She asks and you want to laugh, but that’d be cruel and disrespectful all at once. What is it with these guys?

“Not you too.” You groan, and she laughs good naturally. 

“That’s a no, right?” She asks with humor, and you share a laugh together.

“I’m sorry.” You tell her.

“You don’t have to apologize.” She quickly tells you. “You’re beautiful, and anyone would be lucky to date you.”

…

Carol’s words stay with you for the rest of the night, and you grow immensely nervous. Wanda is once again, sharing a seat with Vision and laughing with him, they’ve grown close. She occasionally finds you staring and smiles at your direction, but the interaction doesn’t feel like enough. 

You want to make her laugh, you want to be sitting next to her. You want and you want… and you don’t know how to play things right. 

All your life you’ve been taught to approach things like a mission. Love was never an option, and sex was always a weapon. This team, this place, these people… they all are the first real things in your life, and you don’t want to lose that. 

“I’m kissing Steve.” Natasha declares, and your attention returns back to the conversation taking place. It’s eleven thirty, and everyone is laughing while Steve blushes and smiles prettily. 

“I’m going with Val.” Carol says, a smile on her face as she winks at Valkyrie, and you laugh along with everyone else. 

“What about you, hot stuff?” Natasha asks you with a devilish smirk and you shrug, unbothered. 

“Anyone is fine.” You tell her but your answer is quickly turned into something that you weren’t expecting. 

“You can kiss me.” Sam happily offers, and you shrug because you really don’t mind, a kiss is just a kiss. 

“I’m free.” Bruce tells you with a sweet smile. 

“Me too.” Steve says and Natasha huffs indignantly at his offering. 

“No, you’re not!” She tells him, and her words are met with more laughter. 

“Wait a second.” Tony finally intervenes. “I knew Steve asked you out and you rightfully rejected him.”

“Come on.” You tell him, already smelling trouble. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I agree with the rejection. But Sam and Bruce?” His eyes widen with glee, and you feel your skin prickle. 

“You all asked her out too?” Sam confusedly asks, and this is officially the most awkward conversation you’ve ever had in your life. 

“Well, she said no to me too.” Bruce says. 

“She said no to me too.” Carol interjects, and you stand up from the couch, your eyes briefly meeting Wanda’s thoughtful ones. 

“Please, babes.” You huff out with an odd laugh. You just want out of this conversation. 

“You’re telling me that none of these guys are good enough for you?” Tony teases you. 

“I’m saying that none of you can handle all of this.” You motion to yourself and they all laugh, all but one. Wanda is still looking at you with a thoughtful expression in her eyes. 

“Oh, come on!” Rhodey says as he stands up and joins you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Little brother over there is a catch! What’s not to like?”

“Is what I’m saying!” Sam says with a charming smile. 

“Or the Captains! Both of them!” Rhodey clicks his tongue, and everyone joins in on his proposal. 

“Sorry, babes. Not my type.” You wink at them, and Rhodey laughs. 

“One date.” Sam tells you, filling the silence, and you wiggle out of Rhodey’s hold. 

“You’re out of luck, pretty boy.” You tell him with humor, all the while thinking about ways to get out of this conversation. 

“Why though?” He asks, feigning hurt. 

“You just are.” You shake your head. 

“Kiss at midnight?” Carol offers you.

“What about Val?” You ask her. 

“I can handle the two of you.” Carol shrugs, and you laugh at the ridiculousness of all of this. 

“No, you can’t.” Val laughs, and you laugh with her. 

“It’s almost midnight.” You say, trying your hardest to move on from the topic. But Tony is having none of it.

“So, four of the most attractive people in this room ask you out, and you say not to all of them.” He says, and your eyes stray towards Wanda again. She’s biting the inside of her cheek now, her eyes avoiding yours. 

“Stop with this.” Pepper intervenes, probably taking pity on you. “Leave her alone.”

“I just want to know why. Don’t you want to know why?” Tony insists. 

“She said no to me too.” Natasha adds, and you groan. 

“What? Widow asked you out too?” Carol exclaims, and now you’re just feeling uncomfortable. 

“One would think that you can take rejection with some dignity.” You tell them. 

“One would think that.” Clint interviene. “But we’re all children. Tell us why you said no.”

“That’s enough.” You say but Clint only laughs, and everyone laughs along with him.

“Tell us why.” Val says with a laugh. 

“Yeah. Tell us.” Bruce joins in, and you’re tempted to just leave the room. 

“You’re all not that attractive to me. That’s all.” You tell them, still trying to keep a light tone but wanting to end this at the same time. 

“Bullshit. We’re all gorgeous. Tell us.” Natasha laughs but her words dare you, and you look at Wanda again. Her eyes meet yours, and you know what your answer is. 

“I told you. You’re not that attractive to me.”

“Please.” Natasha says, not believing you. 

“Tell us.” Sam says again, now more insistently. 

“Tell us.” Steve says too, a cute smile on his face that does nothing for you. 

“Come on, girl. Just tell us.” Val says too.

“I’m leaving. You’re all being annoying.” You declare, but before you can make a quick escape, Tony is blocking your only way out. 

“Tell us.” He insists with a devilish smirk on his lips. 

“I just don’t want to date any of you. Can we please drop this now?” You’re losing your patience, and you really don’t want to keep talking about it.

“But why?” Sam whines. 

“Because!” You practically yell.

“But why?” Natasha demands, and you look at her stupid innocent face with anger flaring within you. 

“Because the only person I want to be dating is Wanda! That’s why.” 

Your eyes widen as soon as you’re done speaking, and Natasha is smiling. 

Before you can see the look on everyone’s faces, you close your eyes and will yourself to calm down though. 

You can hear your own heart beating, and your face is burning up. You’re blushing, and that has never happened to you before. 

“Finally.” Natasha asserts, and you feel like punching her. “That wasn’t so hard to admit, was it?” She says when you open your eyes to find her now close to you. 

“I hate you.” You tell her, and she winks at you. Wanting the earth to open up and swallow you whole, you don’t notice everyone leaving the room, everyone but Wanda. 

… 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Wanda asks you when you sit down next to her. 

Now that everything's out in the open, this conversation is actually happening. 

“I honestly don’t know.” You tell her. “I just know that I really like you, and I might have feelings for you that go way beyond friendship, and I didn’t want to mess that up.”

“I kinda have feelings that go way beyond friendship for you too.” She cheekily says and you almost laugh, but the look on her face is so adorable that it ends up taking your breath away. 

“You do, huh?” You ask as she scoots closer to you. It’s almost midnight now. 

“Do you want to go out with me?” She asks you, staring right into your eyes, and so incredibly close that you’re sharing the same breath. 

“I do.” You nod, your eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips repeatedly. “I really, really do.”

You’re wondering why you’ve been waiting for this all this time when your friends begin to cheer from the back patio and fireworks alight the skies, and the lights reflect in Wanda’s eyes. 

“Happy New Year.” She whispers, and you lightly grip the collar of her jacket with both hands. 

“Happy New Year.” You whisper back right before you pull her closer to you, and kiss her. 

She kisses you back, her hands gripping your hair, and her body pressing yours against the back of the couch. 

“Happy New Year, weirdos.” Natasha calls out from the back door, a smile on her face when both of you turn to look at her. “Now, come out here, and hug everyone.”

“I hate her.” You tell Wanda as she helps you on your feet. 

“She was teasing you the whole time.”

“I know.” You groan, but before you can make your way out you pull her back to you and kiss her again, and again. 

“I’m flattered, just so you know.” She tells you when you pull back. “Rejecting Carol must have been hard.” She says in jest but you kiss her again, your arms wrapping around her waist to keep her close to you.

“No.” You admit, looking into her green eyes. “Not to me.”

“Charmer.” She murmurs before she’s kissing you again. 

You endure the teasing that comes your way when you go out to hug everyone else, because Wanda’s hand is warm in yours, and it was all worth it in the end. 

… 

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff

[juniperskye]

Chewing Gum

Summary: Eddie gets gum in his hair, so Steve takes him to his favorite salon to get it out. The events of season 4 did not happen.

Eddie Munson x Hair Stylist (Fem)Reader (she’s kind of sunshiny emo lol also she’s described to have colored hair, tattoos, and piercings)

Fluff

Word count: 1474

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, no use of y/n, language!, Jason Carver being an ass, half assed salon info, let me know if I missed any!

not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Jason Carver is a dick. He treated Eddie and the boys like shit and went out of his way to make sure they knew they were “freaks”.

Eddie saw Chrissy get bumped by one of the other basketball players. They were messing around in the halls like a bunch of Neanderthals and Chrissy got struck in the crossfire. She was body checked into a locker and her books went flying.

“Here.” Eddie offered Chrissy her science book that had slid across the hall.

“Thanks Eddie.” Chrissy smiled.

Eddie nodded back to her and moved toward his homeroom, but not before Jason stormed over, purposely bumping Eddie in the process.

“Let’s go babe.” Jason said, pulling Chrissy along with him.

This had been a pretty tame reaction from Jason…or so Eddie thought. Eddie made it through homeroom and history no problem, it was when he got to lunch that all hell broke loose.

“Woahhh dude! You have gum in your hair.” Garreth said to Eddie.

“HA HA very funny Garreth.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Oh shit! Ed, man he’s not joking.” Dustin informed the older boy.

With that, Eddie reached to the back of his head and brushed his hand over his hair. As he shifted from the top of his head down towards the nape of his neck, he felt the sticky wad of chewing gum, causing his curls to tangle up.

Laughter erupted across the cafeteria, as Eddie’s gaze shifted to the disruption his eyes met Jason’s who shot him a smirk and a wink. Further proving Eddie’s theory that the asshole that was Jason Carver had, in fact, been the culprit of this incident.

“Eddie, I could call Steve, his hair guy could probably fix you right up.” Dustin offered.

“Hell no. The last thing I want to do is get help from Steve.” Eddie scoffed.

“We could just cut it out.” Mike shrugged.

“Fuck it. Call Steve.” Eddie conceded.

Dustin and Eddie made their way to the school’s payphone. Dustin was quick to dial the number and explain the whole situation to Steve once he picked up. Steve had offered to take Eddie to his hair guy, but only if Eddie asked nicely and said please…which he reluctantly choked out over the phone.

“I’ll come pick you up.” Steve told Eddie, before hanging up.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve pulled up to the school in his burgundy BMW, yelling at Eddie to “hop in”. The drive started off in an uncomfortable silence. This was the first time Eddie had hung out with Steve alone, not that they were hanging out.

“So, listen Eddie, nobody, and I mean NOBODY, knows that this is where I get my hair done and honestly I’d like to keep it that way.” Steve explained.

“Okay…you’re freaking me out. Where is this place?” Eddie said as he looked around the unfamiliar neighborhood.

“Just up here on the left.” Steve said, pulling up in front of a hair salon.

Eddie initially felt confused, he figured that Steve would go to a barber, like any other guy from school, but this actually made a lot of sense. Steve cared about his hair the way any girl would and he’s very particular about it so naturally he would go somewhere that would take better care of his hair.

As they made their way up the curb, Eddie was able to get a better look of the inside. It was painted mostly black but there were bright pops of hot pink and teal around the place. There were pink velvet couches and those smiley face daisy pillows strewn about them. There was only one employee in the place, and she was currently blow drying some girl’s hair.

Eddie’s eyes scanned the hair stylist, you were beautiful you had pink streaks in your hair, dark tattoos littering your arms and a nose ring. You took Eddie’s breath away.

“Steven Harrington you better not be back here to ask me to cut your hair shorter. You made me take so much off last time and I still haven’t gotten over it!” You shrieked.

“Would you relax! I’m not here for a haircut, I’m here with my uh, my friend.” Steve said, glancing over at Eddie.

“Hi Steve’s friend! Oh, my goodness your hair is beautiful! Please don’t tell me you want me to cut it off!”

Your theatrics were making Eddie’s heart sing. The compliment had him blushing.

“God no! I don’t want to cut my hair, that’s actually why I’m here.” Eddie exclaimed.

“He got gum stuck in his hair.” Steve replied waving him off.

“I didn’t get shit stuck in my hair. That asshole Jason Carver spit gum in my hair.” Eddie explained.

“Ugh the Carver boys are all terrors. I remember being a sophomore when Michael Carver was a senior and if he wasn’t the biggest douche bag, then I don’t know who was.” You said, shaking your head. You shifted your gaze over to where Eddie and Steve were sitting. “Wait a minute! I know you, Eddie Munson, we had freshman English together!” You said, reintroducing yourself to him.

“I knew you looked familiar!” Eddie smiled.

You told him that you’d be with him in just a minute, you wanted to get your client finished up and checked out. He watched in awe as you effortlessly sectioned and styled her hair, led her over to the register and cleaned your station quickly. He noticed you gathering a few things, which he could only assume would be for him.

“Okay come over and sit!” You gestured to your chair. As Eddie made himself comfortable you began explaining what you were going to do. “So, I am basically going to load your hair up with oil which should allow the gum to slide out. I will wash your hair after too, so you don’t leave here looking like a greasy mess. I have a reputation to uphold!”

“Okay, thanks.” Eddie said, pushing his bangs out of his eyes.

“If you want I can trim your hair too, just clean it up, make it so your bangs aren’t in your eyes so much.” You offered.

“Oh um, that would be great but I uh, I don’t have any…”

“It’s on the house Eddie. Just a favor for a friend.” You said quietly.

Eddie nodded slightly and you got to work, slipping on some gloves, and pouring the hair oil into your hands. You started working it into his hair, really targeting the areas around the chewing gum. Slowly but surely the gum started to untangle itself from Eddie’s chocolate tresses. Once the gum was completely out, you led Eddie over to the shampoo bowl and proceeded to wash his hair. You couldn’t help but smile down at the soft expression he wore on his face. His eyes had fluttered shut and you thought he truly could have been asleep the way his face was relaxed. After washing, conditioning and finally rinsing his hair, you gently grasped his shoulder.

“Eddie, you ready for me to cut your hair?”

“Huh? Oh yeah.” Eddie said, carefully getting up and heading back to your chair.

Eddie sat and you and him chatted back and forth as you trimmed his hair. You had made sure to communicate through every part of the process, which products you were using and why, the way you were cutting his hair and adding in some natural layering to help with the bulk, trimming his bangs a little shorter than he was used to so they wouldn’t be too long so quickly. You pulled out the hair dryer and attached the diffuser, explaining what it did to Eddie and letting him know that blow drying definitely isn’t necessary for him to do.

Steve couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered its way on his face at the interaction playing out before him. He had never seen Eddie sit still this long or listen this intently to anyone. Steve couldn’t help but think that Eddie had better thank him for bringing him here.

“Alright Eddie you are all set.”

“Thank you so much, seriously! I really appreciate it and I don’t think my hair has ever looked or felt this good.” Eddie said, admiring your handywork.

“Of course! And by the way if you ever get gum in your hair again, peanut butter or cooking oil can get it out, it just takes a bit of work.” You explained. “But know that you can always come here, and I can help too!” You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm.

“Yeah. That sounds good! You know, I would need your number…you know to get a hold of you..” Eddie smirked.

He couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of thanks toward Jason Carver…he had brought you into his life, all with a piece of chewing gum.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #corroded coffin #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson angst #eddie munson au #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst blurb #sstranger things blurb #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #mechanic!eddie #mechanic!eddie x reader #mechanic!eddie x y/n #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff

[thefreakandthehair]

no better version I could pretend to be tonight

written for ‘charm’ wc: 548 | rated: m | cw: eddie munson's near-death experience and description of panic attack/nightmares @steddiemicrofic

Eddie wakes up screaming. 

It’s how he experiences the crushing weight of living when he was so certain he would die beneath that fiery, starless sky. No one sees the hollowed out face of Death and comes back through the veil unscathed, but if the only sacrifice Eddie makes for his life is his right nipple, some flesh, and peaceful sleep, he figures it’s a bargain. 

Every night for the last several months, a hole cracks open in his chest where his lungs once were that bottoms out and refuses to hold the oxygen he desperately tries to pull in to fill the void. His skin feels too tight, his throat hoarse, his palms sore from the clenching of his fingers into fists that swipe at nothing. The taste of blood and rust coats his mouth, a phantom sense that nothing but time dissolves. 

Casual shrugs and black coffee disguise his discomfort when asked if he’s okay. 

Never better. I’m alive, aren’t I? He jokes.

That should be enough of an answer for his new friends. And it is, mostly. They don’t believe him, but they leave well enough alone. 

That is, everyone but Steve Harrington. 

Steve’s proven himself to be an enigma, wispy in Eddie’s grasp. He can’t quite get a handle on him, but he’s been nothing but good to Eddie besides his relentless insistence that Eddie try sleeping at his house. 

“Just give it a shot, Munson. I’m tellin’ you, I’ve got this sleep charm.” 

“If you wanna get me in your bed that bad, you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that.”

“If that’s all I was doing, this would be a lot easier.”

The kicker is that he does. He trusts Steve, and maybe he just wants an excuse to pretend that Steve’s his to wake up to but the next time he wakes up screaming, he gathers his shit, scribbles a note for Wayne in the kitchen with shaking hands, and drives across town. He parks, walks up to the door with a pillow under one arm, and knocks loudly, unencumbered by the liminal space that is Loch Nora at two o’clock in the morning. 

Steve opens the door before detaching the deadbolt, sleep rumpled and adorable– save for the nail bat just barely visible through the crack of the door. He’s shirtless in just a pair of pajama pants, blue and green stripes that hang a little loose from his hips. 

“Eddie?” Steve mumbles, his voice croaky and low as he rubs at his right eye. “Fuck.” He closes the door just long enough to undo the deadbolt and holds his arm out, ushering Eddie into the quiet of the house. 

“Here for your sleep charm, or whatever.” Eddie looks around the room, dimly lit by the motion sensor porch light through the window and doubts himself. “This is stupid as shit. I can just—” 

Steve shakes his head and places a hand on Eddie’s lower back, gently guiding him upstairs to his bedroom.  “Don’t even think about it. You’re here, and we’re gonna get you some sleep. C’mon.” 

It won’t be the last time Eddie wakes to the tickle of Steve’s chest hair against his nose and the gentle press of lips to the top of his head.

there's a version of this that's 3k that lives in my google docs and maybe one day, that'll end up on my ao3

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie microfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st fic #myfic #myblurbs

[hellhue]

𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒔 ⋆ steve harrington x reader

wc: 4.1k

summary: after getting split from your friends, you and enemy Steve encounter new plant life in the upside down. wonder what it could be?

tags: frenemies to fwb to ??, sex pollen upside down smut with no plot, unprotected sex, rough sex, squirting, brief throatfucking, no aftercare

tw: sex pollen, dubcon

minors dni 18+ below cut

All you could hear was the thick flap of leathery wings beating around you, and the thump of your sneakers hitting concrete as you tried outrunning the colony of demobats that had found you and your friends.

Your lungs ached for air as you ran, one hand held above your face for protection while the other was gripped tightly in Steve’s as he pulled you behind him, trying to find the closest point of shelter in the short time you both had.

During the midst of the chase, Eddie, Nancy, and Robin got separated from you. Since then, you and Steve clutched to one another tightly to prevent further losses, thick worry creeping into the dark pits of your minds, partially for your own safety, but mostly for your friends.

“There!” you heard Steve shout, and then felt a heavy tug on your hand as Steve flung you inside in front of him before slamming the door behind him. He rested his back against the heavy door, spreading his arms to serve as a barricade while the demobats bashed against the wooden frame, over and over and over.

You tripped over your feet as you flew inside, and landed on the wooden floors of the entryway, narrowly missing the cluster of tendrils spread across the hardwood. Both of you heaved as you tried to catch your breath, taking a moment to let the hammering of your hearts settle.

“Did you have to throw me on the ground?” you complained through deep gasps, glowering at the wood grain below you as you propped yourself up with your knees and hands. The skin stung where you impacted.

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “a ‘thank you for saving us’ would’ve worked” he grumbled sarcastically, ear pressed against the door as he listened to the creatures, taking a moment to cool the burn in his throat.

You scoffed at him, dusting yourself off as you hauled your body from the dirty floor. Now that you had a moment to glance around, you noticed the room was filled with thick black vines curling around the deserted entry way, and twisting up and across the walls. Neither of you attempted to move from your spots, eyes meeting one another’s, panic starting to brim as you noticed your surroundings. This isn’t any better.

“Suffocation by tentacles or snack pack for the demobats?” Steve offered, trying to lighten the mood as tension creeped through your necks. 

You’d never tell him, but you appreciated it. As much as you could, when it came to Steve.

“You take both and I’ll take the opportunity to get out of here.” you smiled sweetly at him. Steve would serve as a worthy distraction.

“Jeez, forgot who I was with,” he groaned. He moved on, starting to tiptoed from the door, trying to make his way further into the strange house, “you would make me the sacrificial lamb. I grabbed the wrong person.” he mumbled the last part, pausing his advancement to examine you, eyes filled with regret while weighing his mishaps. 

Your face dropped, not because of what Steve said, but because of the brief mention of the others. That same worried feeling starting to gnaw at your edges again, “do you think they’re okay?” you asked, teasing tone now replaced with an unusual gentleness, one Steve very rarely heard.

The sourness in his face morphed into something softer, sweeter, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint it. He just nodded, letting his eyes drop from your face before continuing his expansion into the house. 

“They slipped inside the Powell’s a little ways up,” he spoke over his shoulder as you followed closely behind him through the narrow hallway, copying his exact footsteps to prevent accidentally alerting the creepy Upside Down hive mind, before he stopped abruptly before the first closed door.

Somehow you ended face first into his back with a sharp inhale of surprise. 

“Steve!”

Your arms wrapped around the front of his torso tightly as you held him flush against your front, hoping to stop him from bumping into the door in front of him from your impact. 

His body was hardened, stiff as it pressed into your soft, pliable one. You both stood motionless, seemingly unaffected from the crash, as far as the vines go, anyways. 

“Watch where you’re going,” he gritted between his teeth, pinching between his brows harshly as you held onto him.

“Don’t just stop like that!” you retorted, face muffled against the denim of his vest. How could he be blaming you?

“Just..don’t move.” he gave up, knowing an argument would not help the current predicament. 

Mine, hers, mine, hers.

He noted the alternating pattern of your feet against each other, noticing how both sets were a centimeter off from skimming the surrounding vines.

With one hand, he reinforced the hold you had around him, hoping to keep you steady so your feet didn’t slide as he leaned forward to the door, reaching his other hand around the doorknob and pushing in.

The door opened slowly with an eerie creek, the silver glow of the street lights spilling through the window into the dark room. It was mostly clear, no thick vines invading the space of the bedroom.

Steve let out a breath of relief. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“This looks safe. We can wait the bats out then meet up with the rest of them.”

As much as Steve frustrated you, you were a little glad you were with him. Despite hating him all throughout high school, he was smart with this stuff, and good under pressure. With him by your side, you knew you’d all make it out of here okay. It brought a small peace to your mind.

Entering the room only proved your point further, as there was no ichor, or thick black tendrils invading the space. The only residue of The Upside Down tainting it were the usual dark particles, as well as some thinner vines, adorned with dainty black flowers, growing across the walls. They were pretty, and seemed easy enough to avoid. 

You and Steve rotated around the room, taking in the posters on the wall, toying with the scattered knickknacks and mixtapes spread across the strange room. Whoever’s it was, they seemed to be around your and Steve’s age. You couldn’t help but wonder if you knew them.

But keepsakes could only keep your attention for so long before the silence turned awkward, and boredom overtook you. Maybe waiting alone with Steve really is as bad as it sounds.  You sighed audibly, moving onto the strange flowers decorating the wall.

As you got closer, the petals flickered, as if they could sense you. They threatened to push out, as if about to blossom.

“Wh- don’t touch those.” Steve chastised you like a child, pointing accusingly as you got closer to the blooms.

“No kids and I’m somehow still the babysitter.” he whined to himself, “I would’ve had better chances with Dustin.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him, “oh poor Stevie.” you feigned with false empathy before turning your back to him, attention back to the flowers. You brought a pinky finger up, and as if it could feel your aura, the petals fluttered and pulsed around the proximity. You were slow with your movements, being careful to not touch any of the petals, until suddenly, a large hand clasped your shoulder.

The unexpected contact startled you, causing your pinky to accidentally nudge the specimen. Shit.

Suddenly a puff of black particles blasted from the pistil, a dark ooze following behind it, dripping down the now opened blossoms of the flower.

You coughed, and coughed, and coughed as the fine particles invaded your eyes, nostrils, and throat with a thick burn. Steve pulled you back from the spill in a hurry, unsure what to do.

“What the fuck, Steve!” you shrieked, eyes clasped closed, tears spilling from the sides as you rubbed furiously at them, further smearing the black pounce across your face.

“What a safe fucking room!” you added in frustration, panic coating your voice as the sting spread.

“Don’t blame me! I was trying to get you away from it!” The panic in his voice matches yours as he wrapped one hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in front of him. He brought the ends of his vest up with his other hand, using the rough material to wipe the black dust off your face. He was gentle, tracing it softly over the creases of your nose and the bottom of your lips. 

Soft cries left your lips as Steve wiped it clean, the denim agitating the burn more. 

“Almost done..” he whispered encouragingly, his thumb moving in a comforting circle at the front of your neck. As the granular spray spread further into the room, he could start to feel the burn as well, his eyes beginning to water. He cleared his throat, “there.”

You both sat there, unmoving and in pain. Until finally, the burning started to subside to a dull pulse. You peaked one eye open at Steve, who was already looking at you, “I think that helped.” you admitted before opening your other eye, “thanks..” 

“Sure.”

He took a step back, dropping his hand from your neck.

And immediately, the burn returned. Only this time it was at your neck, where Steve had just let go.

You instinctively reached for Steve, sucking in the air between your teeth, holding onto the ends of his vest as you tried not to cry out for the growing sting, “fuck, was it on your hands?” you winced up at him as he wrapped his fingers around both your wrists as you held the fabric, shaking his head.

“No, no, they’re clean. Look!” he brought his hands up, still clasping your wrists as he showed you his hands, free from any charcoal.

Just as fast as it returned, the pain subsided again. You took another deep breath in relief before shaking your head, “it’s gone.” you confirmed, before you both let go of one another.

And again, the burn returned. This time hotter as it crawled around your wrists, matching where Steve’s fingers were just wrapped.

He could also feel it, the pain starting at the tips of his fingers as it outstretched into his palms.

“What the..” he muttered, staring down at his hands.

You reached out for him again, one hand on each side of his neck, your fingers cooling the growing heat of his skin.

Gone. 

It clicked.

“Steve, it’s when we touch…” you whispered towards him. 

A part of you felt morose, normally the thought of touching any part of Steve disgusted you, but there was this small nagging at the back of your mind, one you didn’t want to think about, but it continued to bully its way through.

Thoughts about his solid back pressing into your front at the door, thoughts of the way his thumb caressed the front of your neck so softly as he wiped your face clean, thoughts of how you wanted to touch him, wanted to run your hands down the bare of his chest, like it was an instinct.

The images caused a bolt of excitement in your throat, and it traveled lower down your chest into your belly, until finally it shocked right at your core, and you let out a soft gasp.

“y’okay?” Steve huffed, drawing your attention from your thoughts to the man in front of you. Your fingertips could feel him gulp as it traveled down his neck, his skin warming as if he had a fever.

Your eyes melted into his as you met his gaze. It was different, you were used to his usual golden brown eyes that always held a bite of distaste whenever they met yours, but this time  they looked darker, almost hungry. And hot.

He looked like you felt, and that caused another pang to ignite, shocking with enough force you had to bite your lip.

“Steve,” your voice was a whisper, “I don’t feel right.”

His eyes never left your lips, watching as the plush skin moved against one another. He could feel your soft breath brush against his skin, he could smell the soft mint from your toothpaste, almost as if his senses were stronger. He closed his eyes in relief, the slightest touch from you cooling his searing skin. He’d turn to ash without you.

“Sit?” he offered, voice husky as he reached to grab your hips, intentions to move you to the bed.

You nodded, but neither of you moved. 

You wanted to, but it’s as if your body was being piloted by something other than yourself as your feet stayed planted in their place.

Steve opened his eyes at the lack of movement from either of you, meeting eyes through thick lashes.

A beat of nothingness.

And then you were both pulling one another into each other, crashing your lips against his, or his against yours, neither sure which one took the plunge first.

There was no sweetness, or hesitance in the kiss as your lips moved sloppily against his, your tastes intertwining between spit and shared breaths. You wanted more, wanted to taste and feel the rawness of him. 

His hands wandered over the expanse of your back, moving up towards your neck before they slid down to your bum, giving a harsh squeeze to the fat of each cheek, spreading them as much as he could through the fabric.

There was relief that accompanied the touching, and the kissing. All pain turned into something more pleasurable, something that warmed the core of your stomachs, but it wasn’t enough.

“I want you, Steve, please.” you begged as you felt his rough touch, grinding your front against his.

His hands held your ass tight as he pushed you back towards the bed, “yeah, okay, fine.” he breathed, head empty of thoughts, unsure why he was giving in so easily. All he knew was he wanted you too, and now.

His lips moved up and down your neck, leaving kisses and bruises as he suckled from the underside of your ear to the point of your shoulder 

You felt the sturdiness of the mattress behind your knees, so you fell back, arms around Steve as you brought him with you.

In the back of your mind, you knew this was wrong, but the thoughts were buried as you felt Steve’s hardened cock thrust against your clothed core.

“I’m sorry.” he moaned against you, dry humping into you like a dog in heat, “I can’t stop myself.” he gritted, already breathing heavily as he felt up and down your body.

The friction was tantalizing, you already felt an orgasm budding from the heightened senses, from the burning of every single nerve.

“I don’t want you to.” you admitted, helping him out by grinding yourself into his shoves.

Your fingers were unsteady with anticipation, fumbling with the button of your jeans between Steve’s body before finally it came undone. As soon as the small button was free, Steve grabbed the tops of your jeans and panties, pulling them both off in one sweep. 

A soft gasp left you at the force, and the sensation of the cool air hitting the hot wetness seeping from your heat. It felt heightened, the heat of his breath against you, the softest graze of his fingers, everything burning the tips of your nerves.

Steve dropped to his knees as soon you were bare, eyes set on the sweet cunt in front of him. He gripped your calf, smelling your skin as he dragged his face up the smooth skin before  resting his nose at the crease between your thigh and mound.

He drew a shameless sniff, trying to inhale as much of you as he could. He could smell the sweet hints of your favorite lotion mixed with the fresh remnants of your shower gel, and underneath it all was a soft, sweet, savory smell, that was naturally you. 

That smell caused an insatiable hunger to brew inside him, his cock hardening more as it pressed up against the side of the bed, “god that smell,” he growled, leaving opened mouthed kisses to the area, relishing the salty taste of your skin.

You sat in anticipation, thigh muscles tightening as you waited, whimpering for relief to your core, but Steve was taking too long, busy admiring the dribble starting to seep from your tight hole. 

As if your body was acting on your own, your hips bucked up, grazing your folds across the side of his face. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel embarrassment with the trail of wetness your cunt left on him, too desperate for friction.

It was all the encouragement he needed. He turned his head, shoving his face into your pussy, lapping the juices from your hole before dragging his tongue further into your folds, trying to taste every crevice before circling your bud.

The silence of the room was filled with your whimpers and moans as he tasted you, holding your legs apart as you squirmed from his nose brushing against your clit as the warm muscle moved inside you, shoving in and out of your hole.

The thought of Steve Harrington tongue fucking you sent you over the edge, your heightened senses sending a shuddering orgasm through your body. You could feel it move down your shoulders into your cunt as Steve drank the nectar spilling from you.

“Look at you..” he chided, “sweet girl cumming from the mouth she hates so much.” 

The pain in his cock was unbearable. Hearing your moans and pants as he went down on you enlarging him more and more. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“I need to be inside you baby,” he grunted as he pulled you to the end of the bed, your ass nearly hanging off the end, “I can’t wait any longer.” he leaned

his body against yours, pressing opened mouthed kisses to your neck, asking permission with his kisses.

Knowing he needed you made the burn more intense, you needed him too. 

You nudge his face with yours, making him look you in your eyes, “take whatever you want Steve.” you stared at him between your lashes as you snaked your arms down to the top of his jeans, helping him unbutton his pants before he slid them to his ankles.

And he did. He pumped his cock once, twice, thumbing the weeping fluid from his tip before lining up with your hole. Without any warning, he shoved his thick girth into you, sheathing himself fully inside your warm hole.

It stung in the best way possible, you couldn’t help but moan out loud from the stretch of your hole. 

He only paused for a moment before dropping his elbows by the sides of your face, leaning his weight against them as he pumped long thrusts into you, grunting as his cock slid in and out of your warm pussy. 

You felt so full, and the warmth of his grunts tickling the inside of your ears only heightened the building feeling of your second orgasm. 

“I’m gonna cum.” you whined, gripping below his bum as you tried to push him deeper inside you. You wanted to feel him in your stomach.

“Not yet,” he breathed, his strength out matching yours as he pulled his dick from you, “I want to play with your pretty little hole a little longer.”

You clenched around nothing as he climbed ontop the bed on his knees, straddling your body. You missed the feeling of being filled, whining at the loss.

He shushed you and grabbed the back of your neck, holding your head up before using the head of his cock to drag down your bottom lip, “be a good girl and open up for me.” 

The praise from Steve had you keening, something that has never happened before. You opened your mouth happily, tongue out, wanting to show him how good you could be for him.

“I like you like this.” he continued, before shoving his cock deep into your throat.

You gagged at the intrusion, not expecting your mouth to be so filled so fast. He was big. 

You tried to breathe through it, gagging harder as he thrusted in once, twice, a third time. Your eyes watered, snot leaking from your nose, spit spilling from the sides of your mouth. 

“Messy girl.” he chided through a moan, continuing to bully his cock down your throat with harsh thrusts, no mercy as he bruised your larynx.

Your pussy watered at the abuse, enjoying the way he used you for his own pleasure, not caring if it was too much for you. 

After a moment of bruising thrusts, he slid his cock from your mouth, giving you a short moment to catch your breath before he shoved his middle and ring fingers into your mouth, pressing his fingers against your tongue, making it impossible to swallow any of the dribble spilling from the sides of your mouth. 

He used your jaw as a grip as he slid back off the bed, lining himself up again before he thrusted into you, in, out, in, out. They were heavy, harsh, thrusts, your lungs barely getting a breath as he slammed his cock inside of you. He was like an animal, feral for the feeling of your spongey insides clenching around his thick cock. 

It was overwhelming, the feeling of him gagging you with his fingers while he slammed into your little cunt.

Another wave hit you, so strong not even Steve could stop your orgasm from forming this time. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as a spray of wetness spurted around Steve’s cock, he continued to bully his dick into you through the orgasm, splashing the squirt everywhere.

“Dirty girl, squirting on my cock,” he was breathless, you splashing around his shaft, soaking his curly brown pubes sent him over the edge. His thrusts became erratic as he jackhammered into you, hitting his release. 

You could feel the spurts of warm cum inside of you, and as he coated your insides, there was an instant relief from the life threatening arousal brought from the strange flower, his cum cooling down all the misery and the burning desires as he slid his softening cock in and out of you slowly, the mixed cum squelching around it.

He sat inside you for a second, then two, as you both settled down, your heads finally clearing, finally feeling like you were in control again. He slid his softening cock from you, both of you hissing at the loss of contact and overstimulation.

There was another beat of nothingness as you both breathed heavily, laying side by side, trying to catch your breath for the second time this night. 

With the overpowering arousal gone, and both of you feeling relieved from whatever ailed you previously, it turned awkward fast.

You knew Steve hated you, but never in a million years did you think he’d fuck you like he hated you. 

You sat up abruptly as clarity overtook you, thighs twitching from the abuse in between your legs.

“We can’t speak of this ever again.” 

Steve sat up next to you, both of your half clothed bodies pressed side by side. Awkward.

“Ever.” he agreed.

As you both got up, there was a sound from the entryway, like a door opening a closing, 

before a voice called your names.

Robin.

Your eyes widened, both of you half haphazardly throwing your clothes back on, avoiding eye contact, trying to hide yourself from the other as you got dressed, as if all decency wasn’t thrown from the window when he was pumping his cum inside of you.

After a quick pat of your hair, and a half-assed attempt to clean your running mascara, you both made your out 

The two of you looked terrible and disheveled, but you were attacked by demobats. Surely, they wouldn’t know. They couldn’t know.

All the incriminating evidence was hidden, your wetness on his cock hidden on the inside of his boxers, smearing against the fabric, while his leaking cum was held safely against your folds by your stained panties.

Keepsakes. 

Steve cleared his throat, glancing at the rest of the party as you finally met up, “all clear?” 

Nancy nodded, “yeah, for uh, a while. We came looking for you two.” 

She was hesitant in the way she spoke, glancing at Eddie and Robin besides her with an unsure look after taking in your appearances. 

“We should probably go then, I’ve had enough of the upside down today.” you piped up, shoving your way through the welcome party and out the door. 

Steve followed behind, trying to keep a respectful distance to not look suspicious.

There was a brief moment as the trio watched you two make your way down the driveway, an uncertainty settling between them.

Eddie glanced over at the two girls, “So they totally fucked, right?” 

Nancy pursed her lips, furrowing her eyebrows, while Robin bared her teeth with a nod, “Totally.” 

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington dubcon #steve harrington #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #stranger things sex pollen #tw dubcon #𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔥𝔲𝔢 𓄅 writes

[ent-is-indecisive]

id : a digital painting in dark tones with a golden and purple decorated border. steve is kneeling, bare chested, with his back to the viewer. He is wearing pearl shoulder jewellry and a big circle sigil is shining on the middle of his back and connected to magical binds around his torso, neck and wrists. the end of these ties are wrapped in eddie's hand. Eddie is seated on a wooden vanity dressed in black dress pants and a sheer shiny shirt, open halfway. He is also wearing a ruby necklace shining the same colour as the magic and reflecting in his eyes. /end id

Here is the drawing i sent off for the reverse big bang and that @viviseawrites made so much better ! We've mostly worked separately so I am just as excited as you all to go read "they gave you life, and in return, you gave them hell"

#im normal :) ..... my favourite part is the border #this changed direction like 3 times #i have 3 different 'original' sketches #anyways! actual tags #steddie #stranger things reverse big bang #steve harrington #eddie munson #yeah no im tagging it in the drawing idk what V is going for yet #sub steve harrington #dom eddie munson #cw bare chest #magic binding #i dont actually know what to tag so idk feel free to pitch in #birdsongisland #nsft #suggestive