#are they together earlier? is steve still in school? it matters not

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

The thing about Eddie is that he’ll do things on impulse, often in a moment of unearned confidence and optimism.  Which is why last year he ordered a gross of Hellfire Club teeshirts.  One, he thought the word gross was both funny and appropriate, and two, he was sure at the time that the club would really catch on and grow like wildfire, so he’d need a lot.  Besides, they were cheaper by the dozen.

Which is why he still has over a hundred shirts in cardboard boxes under his bed.  Steve found them when he was searching for the lip balm stick he dropped on the floor when Eddie tackled him just for fun, and Eddie had to explain, and he felt sort of foolish about it.

“But they don’t all go to waste,” he said quickly.  “I’ve got so many I can wear one to school every day.  Promoting the club.” 

“Oh thank God,” said Steve.  “It wasn’t the same one all the time.  I used to think you must smell so bad, if you never washed it.”

“I guess at least you were thinking about me,” Eddie said, slightly miffed. 

“You were like a cartoon character always in the same outfit,” Steve mused, with a look of fond reminiscence.

“All that time I was suppressing my raging crush on you, and you were thinking I was like a smelly cartoon character?”

“A cute smelly cartoon character,” Steve assured him.  “I always noticed you were cute.  I just didn’t have the guts to do anything about it back then.  And hey!  I can help promote your club now.”  He pulled his polo shirt off over his head, causing a sudden bump in Eddie’s heart rate, then pulled on a Hellfire shirt.  “There we go,” he said, tugging it down and pushing a hand through his rumpled hair to restore it to its former glory.  “How’s it look?”

Eddie tackled him again, but with lips and tongue this time. 

[libraryofgage]

SpiderPool Steddie Part One

So, this is definitely gonna have multiple parts lmao

It's been bouncing around my brain for a while like the Addams Family Steddie AU lol

Anyway, lemme know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts ^_^

----

Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Girls is, at best, a dive bar. At worst, it's a cesspit in which the scummiest people in the city gather to bask in each other's scumminess. To Steve, however, it's the perfect place to collapse after a long patrol, splayed out like a starfish on the roof as the music playing inside vibrates the building itself.

Steve takes a deep breath, setting his bat down next to him before pushing his mask to the bridge of his nose. He then lies down on the roof, wishing not for the first time that the city's light pollution wasn't so bad. Seeing the stars and hunting for constellations would really help him ignore the cracked ribs screaming inside his chest and threatening to break if he even breathes wrong.

All things considered, though, it could be worse. Steve doesn't have any morning classes, Vecna didn't beat him up nearly as bad as he usually does during their fight earlier, and his accelerated healing means Steve will be able to breathe normally by morning. Robin would tell him he has a very low bar when it comes to judging how shitty his life currently is, but she isn't here, so her opinion doesn't matter. Dustin would tell him he should try not getting his ass whooped in the future. Thankfully, he also isn't here, making his opinion as meaningful as Robin's.

Steve closes his eyes, letting his shoulders relax and trying not to think about anything. It sort of works until his entire body suddenly tenses, every nerve on edge and goosebumps shooting across his arms. He shoots up, ignoring the harsh twinge in his ribs as he turns in a crouch and grabs his bat. Steve clenches his jaw, breathing harshly through his nose to keep from groaning in pain, and feels relieved he didn't completely remove his mask completely.

Over by the door leading to a staircase is a guy with ripped jeans, a worn-out shirt with "HELLFIRE CLUB" across the chest, a jean vest covered in patches and pins, and hair pulled back out of his face with a few wavy strands stubbornly escaping his hair tie. He's breathing a little heavily, his face flushed like he's just climbed a few flights of stairs. Actually, he probably has.

"Woah," the guy says, his voice soft enough that Steve would have missed it if not for the enhanced hearing. The guy clears his throat and holds up both hands, showing off a bottle of Jack Daniels in one and a bag with a grease-stained bottom in the other. "Uh, I come in peace. I didn't realize the rooftop was taken."

Steve has no clue what possesses him, but he forces himself to relax and set the bat down. "No, it's okay. I can head out," he says, staying seated despite his words. He's really hoping the guy will insist he doesn't need to; his ribs are still aching like a bitch.

Thankfully, the guy flashes a grin and slowly lowers his hands. "Nah, you're all good. Not every day I get to eat next to a hero. Want some fries?" he asks, walking over and sitting a good two feet away so there's plenty of room between them.

He tears open the bag to create an impromptu plate and puts it between them, the smell of greasy and undoubtedly delicious fries tempting enough that Steve picks up a smaller one and pops it into his mouth. "Thanks. Where are these from?" Steve asks, glancing over as the guy twists the cap of his bottle and takes a swig.

"A burger joint two streets down and one street over. On the corner."

Steve nods, making a mental note of the directions so he can get a burger before swinging home. He's got just enough in his pocket to afford one. "So, got a name?" Steve asks, figuring he's already eating the guy's fries and they're about to spend some time together on this roof. He should know the guy's name.

The guy's grin returns, and he sets the bottle down between them as well. It's tempting, but Steve doesn't trust his alcohol tolerance to hold up while his body is busy fixing his ribs. "Eddie. Do I get to know your name, too?"

Steve snorts and leans away slightly, putting a bit more distance between Eddie and his entirely too-grabbable mask. "Nice try," he says.

"Worth a shot," Eddie says, shrugging as he picks up a few fries. "So, Spider-Man, what brings you to Sister Margaret's? You enjoy the gay metal scene?"

"What's the difference between gay and regular metal?"

"Our hair is better," Eddie explains, dramatically flipping the few strands of hair escaping his tie.

Steve has to hold back a second snort, taking another fry and chewing on it before saying, "I like resting here after patrol. The whole building shakes with the music."

Eddie lights up, his eyes brightening and his back straightening some. "So, you're a fan of Corroded Coffin," he says, taking another swig of the Jack Daniels. It's only now that Steve realizes it's already a quarter of the way gone, and he wonders if Eddie's liver can handle that much alcohol all at once.

"Is that the name of the band?"

"Yep. They play here almost every night."

"I'm guessing you like them, too, then?"

Eddie hums, amusement dancing across his expression now, giving Steve the distinct feeling that there's some secret he simply isn't in on. "They're the best band I've ever heard. Their music is incredible. They really push the boundaries of the genre. And their lyrics? Amazingly layered with at least three meanings per line. I highly recommend actually coming in for a listen one of these days," Eddie says, leaning a little closer to Steve.

A beat of silence passes in which Steve holds Eddie's gaze. Or, he holds the gaze on his end; he's sure Eddie can't actually tell with the mask covering his eyes. "You're in the band," Steve says.

"Lead guitarist and singer, yes. I also write the songs."

"You're incredibly critical of yourself, really grounded in reality."

Eddie barks out a laugh. "I just happen to know my worth incredibly well."

"You have all the confidence of a mediocre white man on a job hunt."

Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest as he looks at Steve. "How dare you call me mediocre. I am revolutionary at worst and the second coming at best."

"You know the second coming involves, like, an apocalypse or something, right?"

"I'm Jewish, why would I bother with the fine details?" Well, Steve will give him that. "By the way," Eddie says, gesturing to Steve's bat as he continues, "do those nails actually see any use? Or are they just there to act as a threat?"

Steve looks down at his bat, considering it for a moment before carefully holding the middle and offering the handle to Eddie. Now that he's giving them a few moments of attention, he's realizing the nails embedded in the end are a little rusty and definitely need cleaning. "I try not to be deadly with it, but Vecna's got these lab-grown demon dogs and bats that always manage to break through my webs," Steve explains.

He watches as Eddie takes the bat, weighing it in his hands before shoving his palm into the nails. Steve jerks, a wordless shout escaping his throat as he launches himself over the fries and in front of Eddie. "Are you okay?!" he asks, grabbing Eddie's hand and shakily inspecting the nails sticking through it. Fuck, those are going to be a bitch to get out, and he'll probably have to swing Eddie to the hospital for a tetanus shot.

Being angry doesn't even register in his brain as Eddie laughs. "Don't worry about it, Spidey," he says, pulling his hand off the nails with a slight wince. He wiggles his fingers, letting Steve have a front-row seat to the injuries closing. "See, good as new."

And he's right. The injuries are good as new. In fact, there isn't even any scarring, and Steve almost rips his mask off to take a closer look but stops himself at the last minute. Instead, he grabs Eddie's hand and yanks it closer, turning it over to check his palm, too. "What the fuck?" he asks, looking up at Eddie, still gripping his hand tight.

"Super healing," Eddie explains. "Like, super duper. If I ever get decapitated, just hold my head to my neck, and I'll be right as rain."

"I'd rather not put that claim to the test," Steve says, frowning slightly as he runs his fingers over Eddie's palms, just to make sure the injuries aren't somehow hidden from sight.

"You know, I kissed the last guy who touched my palm like that," Eddie says, leaning in again with that grin.

Suddenly all Steve can think about is how Eddie's lips do look soft. And it has been a while since Steve actually kissed anyone. And he does think Eddie is funny. And he does find himself wondering if his smile will taste like the Jack Daniels and fries. And...and...

And Steve needs to go before he does anything he shouldn't be doing as Spider-Man.

He jerks back, dropping Eddie's hand like it burns, and ignores the ache in his ribs as he grabs his bat and stands. "I, uh, I need to get going. Thanks for the fries, Eddie," he says, hurrying over to the edge of the roof.

"Woah, just gonna eat and run on me, big boy?" Eddie asks, scrambling to his feet and over to where Steve is climbing onto the edge of the roof. "That's not very hero-like of you. You haven't even left me your name or number. How are you gonna pay me back $2.50 for the fries?"

"I had five," Steve says, turning to look at Eddie as he webs his bat to his back and pulls his mask down over his chin.

"The economy sucks, man."

Okay, he's got Steve there. Again. "Nice try, Eddie."

"Can you blame a guy? Your ass looks great in that spandex."

Steve is suddenly relieved his mask is back down, covering the furious blush spreading across his cheeks. He'd think it was just a joke, but the sincere and somewhat goofy smile tugging at Eddie's lips tells him it's more genuine than anything else. "Thanks," Steve says, giving Eddie a two-finger salute before taking a step back off the roof.

He shoots a web at the edge of the building, using the momentum to swing around the corner. His ribs are killing him with the movement, but he still manages to throw a, "See you later, Eds!" over his shoulder before he's completely out of earshot.

Later, Steve will wonder how Eddie got his super healing, if he's that flirtatious with every guy he meets on the roof of Sister Margaret's, and if he'll be there the next time Steve swings by. But that's for later. For now, he's just enjoying the breeze rushing over him and thinking about Eddie's eyes and his smile and his long fingers.

[supernovafics]

waiting for steve harrington to show up to your party

wc: 889

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

you weren’t waiting for him. 

after thirty minutes of actually waiting for him, you decided to convince yourself that you weren’t waiting for him to show up to the party anymore. in fact, you told yourself that you couldn’t care less if steve showed up or not, and you definitely didn’t want to think about how much of a lie that was. 

instead of thinking about him and wondering if he would ever come, you allowed your friends to pull you into the kitchen to take a shot and then you watched from the sidelines as a few of them got involved in a very heated game of beer pong.  

you hated how your eyes kept traveling back to the front door every so often— waiting, expecting— but you truly couldn’t help it.  

“it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t come,” one of your friends told you, her voice loud enough so you could hear her over the music. “there are other hot guys here. and no offense but probably better than steve.”

you rolled your eyes at her statement. yes, there were guys there, some of whom were in a few of your college classes and were very attractive. but, there was something that you really liked about steve, and it made you not want to give any other guy the time of day. it had been like that since the moment you first bumped into him outside of family video— his shift had ended and you were going inside to find a comedy to rent. it was a short interaction that somehow managed to affect you so much. you felt like you were back in middle school with this crush that at times felt hopeless. 

steve was either completely oblivious to the fact that you liked him— which you thought you made quite clear with how much you frequented family video after that first encounter, and how you excitedly invited him to this party that you and your friends were having at the house you all rented together for school— or he just didn’t have the same feelings.

you’d rather think that he didn’t see your obvious flirting cues than the latter.

your friend could practically see how fast your mind was moving, thoughts fully consumed by steve. 

“let’s get another drink,” she said and you didn’t protest as she led you to the kitchen. 

you grabbed a cup and filled it with the punch you helped make earlier that was almost completely alcohol but still a little bit sweet. 

when your friend got pulled into a conversation with a guy that you recognized from your early morning statistics class, your eyes couldn’t help but travel back to the front door. 

and finally, there he was. walking into your home and closing the door behind him. 

you quickly drank the rest of your drink and discarded the cup before going over to him. 

“you actually came.”

steve gave you a small smile. “yeah, of course, you invited me.” 

you wanted to play it cool and act like his words did nothing to you, but it was really hard not to smile at that. 

“wanna see my room?” you asked. your slightly inebriated brain couldn’t see how much of an innuendo that question was until you said it and you quickly tried to recover. “i didn’t mean it like… that. it’s just really loud out here.”

steve nodded and let out a small laugh. “yeah, let’s go to your room.”

you grabbed his hand and started walking in the direction of your bedroom.

“my humble abode,” you said when you walked in and flicked on the lamp that barely gave any light to the space. 

“it’s nice,” he responded as he started looking at the random trinkets you had sitting on top of your dresser. 

you smiled at him. “thanks.” 

it was then that you realized that you two were still holding hands. you gave his hand a light squeeze and he did the same to you, a small smile on his face. 

if the circumstances were a bit different and your mind wasn’t a bit fuzzy, you don’t think you would’ve taken the plunge, but you did. instead of overthinking everything, you leaned in close to him and pressed your lips against his, but he almost immediately pulled away.

“you’re drunk right now,” he said softly. “i wanna do this when you’re not.”

in that moment, you felt offended that he was kind of rejecting you, but later you would think about this moment and feel glad that he didn’t kiss you right then. 

because it would make the first time you actually kissed each other a thousand times better. 

“i really like you,” he said. 

you smiled at him. “i really like you too.”

steve smiled back at you. “cool, great. glad to know we’re on the same page about that.”

maybe it was your slight inebriation, but if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was a little nervous right then.

“you really didn’t know this whole time?” you asked. “that i have a crush on you?”

in your mind, it always seemed so obvious to you that you liked him.

steve shook his head. “sometimes i’m an idiot about this stuff.”

“yeah, me too,” you whispered.

“you wanna get some food? i know a great diner that probably serves the best pancakes.”

you smiled and nodded. “pancakes sound amazing right now.”

[fettuccin-e]

Fighting Against Gravity

Description: You've hated Steve Harrington since your sophomore year, and the feeling is very much mutual. Unfortunately, with you both working at Family Video, it was only a matter of time before you got stuck on a shift together. You'll just keep your distance, hopefully.

BEHOLD!! one of the longest fics i've ever written lol (a whopping 3.6K words bahaha) and it's just me fantasizing about hate sex with Steve Harrington,,, this is addressing a prompt I got forever ago!! so anon, even though i've lost your ask, i hope you enjoy the porn :)

Steve Harrington made your life hell in high school.

Okay, maybe not him specifically, but Tommy and Carol were fucking awful to you. Tommy making obscene comments in the hallway, Carol spilling her lunch down your shirt on purpose. Carol stealing your clothes in the locker room while Tommy stuck things to your locker.

It got to the point that you would fake sickness, change your classes, park your car across the street just to avoid them. And Steve would just… stand there. He would just stand there and stare, his eyes all wide and shocked, while his friends tormented you. Doing nothing.

So, since sophomore year,  you have hated Steve Harrington. Even now, after high school, the sight of him still makes your heart pound angrily, makes your fists clench and your teeth grind together. Robin insists that he’s changed, that he’s “not the same as he was in high school, come on, you’ve got to give him a chance.” Bullshit.

And what makes it worse is that Steve doesn’t even try. Ever since you got your job at Family Video, mostly to work with Robin every day, Steve Harrington has been a fucking dick. Rolling his eyes when you tell a joke, scoffing at any of your tiny complaints about school, about your job, about the various dates you’ve tried to go on that always go up in flames. He just flips his hair, crosses his arms and makes you feel like a complete fucking idiot.

“I have no idea what’s going on with him,” Robin says, shoving a few more videos into the shelves. “I swear he’s not usually like this. It’s like, only when you have a shift.”

“It’s fine,” you mumble, though the tenseness in your shoulders tells Robin that it is absolutely not fine. “If Harrington wants to stay a dick, he can. Doesn’t bother me either way, y’know? He’s been like this for years.”

A loud clatter behind you causes you to shoot up, turning your head to see the man in question with a pile of videos clutched in his hands, his knuckles white and eyebrows furrowed. You both lock eyes, and it feels like his gaze is burning into your fucking soul. It’s probably only a moment, but it feels like you spend years just staring at each other, before Steve huffs and turns away, rushing behind the counter.

Robin watches the whole exchange from the floor. “Oh,” she whispers quietly to herself. Your gaze snaps back down to her.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she says, turning back to the videos, but you can tell that it is absolutely not nothing.

“What is it Robin?” 

“Nothing! Look, it’s fine, okay?” she says, and you choose to just shut up about it, murmuring a quiet “okay, okay,” while you turn back to your stack of videos. 

You allow yourself to get lost in the repetitive motion of filing the films away, lost to the world while you bury yourself in your thoughts. Still stuck on your strange interaction earlier, your thoughts somehow float to Steve fucking Harrington of all people. Images flutter through your mind of his pissed off little scowl, his dark eyes burning into yours, frustrated and angry. The little crease between his eyebrows, the clench of his fists. What is his fucking problem? You shove a video a little too aggressively into its slot. You want to punch him in the nose, take him down to his knees while he prays for your forgiveness. Begging for you. His dark, angry eyes looking up at you from between your thighs, those big hands clutching into your hips-

You stumble over your own feet, nearly face planting into the carpet. Where the fuck had that come from? Fantasizing about Steve Harrington? Jesus Christ, you need to get laid if you’re actually thinking about fucking Steve of all people. Even though he is somewhat attractive, maybe to a person who doesn’t know how much of a dick he is. Maybe someone could somewhat see how pullable and soft his hair is, how fucking tight his jeans are all the time, how big his hands are. How pretty he would look with those hands around your neck, slender hips between yours-

You can feel how red your cheeks are, trying to restock videos in the most casual way possible, trying to keep your mind blissfully blank. Anything but Harrington. Literally, anything. 

Fortunately for your quickly spiraling mental state, Robin feels the need to break you out of your reverie.

“Shit, um, I forgot to tell you, I need to leave early today.” Robin says, sheepish, trying not to make eye contact while the floor drops out from under your feet. You have to hold yourself back from knocking the copy of Grease from her grip. You squat down to meet her eyes.

“You’re leaving me here? With him?” you hiss, glancing over to the register where Steve is helping out a customer; a pretty girl that Steve is leaning just a little too close to to be casual. Anger swims in your gut. The unprofessionalism in this guy.

Robin finally meets your eyes, her cheeks red. “I have a date? Uh, with Vickie.” she says, and when her cheeks are all red like that, and she seems just a little ashamed, you really can’t find it in yourself to scold her. “I’m sorry,” she says, and you force yourself to believe in her apology.

“Fine, it’s fine.” you mutter, crossing your arms. “Leaving me to deal with Harrington myself, I get it.”

“Look, maybe you guys could, I don’t know, talk? While I’m gone?” Robin says, standing. “I swear to God, walking in here is like walking into a war zone.”

“Not a chance, Buckley,” you chuckle, humorlessly, but Robin laughs back all the same. “But you have fun on your date, okay?”

“Oh, I will,” she giggles, and you finally laugh genuinely. Robin hugs you gently, whispering a quiet, “good luck,” before she runs to the back to grab her backpack, and then she’s gone. Leaving you to the wolves. Or, wolf. Steve Harrington. You resolve yourself to just avoiding him, staying silent and doing your job until you can finally leave. But, in a tiny store like Family Video, keeping your distance proves quickly to be incredibly difficult. Against your will, you end up behind the counter next to Steve, trying to clean up as fast as possible.

“Excuse me, Harrington,” you mutter, bumping yourself in front of Steve’s tall body to wipe down the shelves behind the counter.

Steve jumps back like you’ve struck him, but you try to ignore it, bending further to reach the back of the shelf. You reach behind you to pull your skirt down, suddenly horribly conscious of the shortness of it.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you hear Steve mutter, and that is it. You’re just trying to do your fucking job, and somehow he has a problem with you doing that? You straighten up and whip around to face him, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. Odd, because last you checked, Steve is taller than you. What the fuck was he looking at?

“What the fuck is your problem, Harrington?” you say, stepping toward him.

“My problem?” Steve asks, incredulous and completely fucking patronizing. “You’re asking what my problem is?”

“Yes! What is it? Because it’s like I can’t do anything right around you. Anything I do, or say, fucking think is met with, with-“

“Oh Christ,” your fists clench at Steve’s interruption. “Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve been the most uptight fucking brat I’ve ever met. Not to mention-“

“Oh fuck you, Steve.”

“Not to mention the fact that you are so caught up in who I was in fucking high school, going on and on to Robin about how much of a dick I was in school, as if people in your little world can’t change. That’s how judgemental you are, you can’t fucking let go.” Steve steps toward you, his tall body feeling like he’s looming over you. 

“Let go? You and your little friends made my life a living hell. I dreaded going to school every day. And you want me to let it go?”

“It wasn’t even me doing that to you. It was Carol and Tommy-“

You poke a finger into his chest. “You just stood by-“

“I’ve tried to fucking apologize to you, but you won’t let me-“

“You’ve tried? Am I really supposed to believe that?” Steve’s angry breaths are fanning over your face, smelling like gum and cigarettes. You can see little gold flecks in his brown eyes.

“I fucking have, and you know it.” You’re both too close, too fucking close.

“Do I?”

You don’t know who moves first. Probably Steve, the impulsive asshole that he is.

Maybe it was you.

But suddenly Steve’s strong hands are gripping your jaw, your hands are winding into his soft hair, pressing yourself into him. All you know is that Steve’s lips are soft, overwhelming against yours even as your teeth clack together painfully. The kiss is wretched and messy, but Steve just presses himself in further, licking up against your teeth and forcing you to open up to him. His tongue presses against yours, slick and wet and warm. He feels so big against you, and it’s so good that it takes a moment for you to realize that you’re still kissing Steve Harrington.

You force yourself to break away, your cheeks flaming. Steve stares at you with his dark eyes, looking about as shocked as you feel with his flushed cheeks.

“I- fuck, what was that? What, what the fuck? I-“ you stumble over your words, but Steve swoops down again to lick into your mouth. You moan lightly at the taste of him, grasping onto his shoulders, and it just feels too good to pull away.

“Shut up,” Steve breathes into your mouth. “For once, just,” Steve kisses you again, almost like he’s fucking starving for it. “Shut up.”

“Make me, Harrington,” you whisper.

Steve kisses you again, harsh and unforgiving, and you gasp as his hands grip your hips, so strong that you know he’s going to leave pretty marks. Like you’re his. Your nails dig into his back as his lips leave yours, instead traveling to your throat, biting harshly, while one of his hands drifts under your skirt, playing with your throbbing clit through your panties. You can feel how soaked you are, how the wetness of your pussy is making your thighs slick and your cunt clench.

“Steve, Steve, fuck,” you whisper. Steve grunts softly into your neck, his fingers sneaking under your panties to run through your sticky wet slit, running just over your entrance. 

“So fucking wet, baby,” Steve mumbles. “This all for me? You like getting me mad? Does it get you hot, babe? Make this little pussy so fucking wet?” You want to reply, a snarky comment on the tip of your tongue, but one of Steve’s long fingers is dipping into you, and it takes all of your energy just to make sure your fucking knees don’t give out. “Bet that’s why you’re such a brat all the time. Fiery little thing; you just needed to get fucked?” And his finger is suddenly moving inside you, stretching your sensitive walls.

“Oh god, Steve-” you whine, but he cuts you off again by adding another finger, jamming it inside you alongside the first. The hand he had on your hip travels around your back, holding your weak body upright.

“You look so pretty like this. You’re always such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” Your cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being so placid and submissive under Steve’s touch, but when his fingers tease at a sensitive spot so fucking deep inside, pressing harder than you can with his long fingers, you can’t bring yourself to care. And Steve just looks so pretty, his dark eyes blown wide and hair hanging in his face, and you hate that he’s so pretty. You hate how his fingers feel so fucking good.

You hate how desperate you are for his cock, the thick bulge in his jeans pressing against your thigh.

You grip his wrist, somehow finding the strength within yourself to pull his fingers out of you. You turn around, away from him to bend yourself over the counter, flipping the back of your skirt up in a clear invitation.

“Jesus Christ, baby, you want my dick that bad?” Steve grunts behind you, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Like you don’t want my pussy just as bad, Harrington. Why don’t you follow your own advice, shut the fuck up, and fuck me?” You chuckle lightly at Steve's responding groan, and suddenly hear the tell-tale sound of a belt coming undone and a zipper being pulled down.

Steve’s cock is throbbing and sticky, needy for your pussy after fingering you. If Steve’s honest with himself, he’s been half hard since you walked in for your shift, just like he always is. But Steve would rather die than tell you that now. Maybe he’ll tell you after you agree to go on a date with him.

But that’s the least of his worries. Because right now, your pretty little pussy is right in front of him, covered just barely by your soaked panties, and you’re asking him to fuck you. Steve can’t decide if he’s dreaming or not. He really doesn’t want to wake up either way.

A high pitched whine escapes your throat when Steve pulls your panties to the side and you feel the thick head of his cock swipe through your sticky folds, far bigger than what you anticipated. It’s fucking intoxicating. You wiggle your hips back, desperate, and whisper out a desperate “please” as he finally notches himself against your entrance.

You don’t have to tell him twice, because Steve is suddenly sinking his cock into you. Slowly, so fucking slowly. Too fucking slow.

“Harrington, do you always fuck women like a 90 year old man? I thought you were a ladies man, I mean really, what happened to King Ste-”

Steve doesn’t let you finish your sentence as he grits his teeth and shoves his cock into your aching pussy, and clenches his eyes shut at the sound of your squeal, a choked moan escaping his throat as your hot cunt grips him so fucking tight.

Your fingers grip at the edge of the counter, as Steve forces his fat cock into you. The stretch burns, it burns, but it’s so good, fuck, it’s like you can feel it in your lungs. And then he moves, dragging himself out so slow you can feel every vein dragging against your walls before shoving back in again. Your bent hips are pressed against the counter while Steve has his big hands gripping your waist.

“Jesus, baby, so fucking tight for me,” he grunts, and he sounds wrecked. “Taking me in like a good little slut.”

“Steve, Steve, oh god, Steve.” You chant his name like a prayer, your voice weak and airy, legs trembling. Your pussy clenches at his words, and you lower your forehead against the cool material of the counter as you hear Steve chuckle breathlessly, obviously feeling your reaction.

“You like that, baby? Like being called a slut? Fuck, you do. You love being my fucking slut don’t you?” Steve snaps his hips forward harshly through his words, watching your ass shake under the force. Little whines are punched out of your throat with every thrust, and you just sound so pretty that Steve can’t help but bring a hand up to run it comfortingly down your spine. “Little brat, coming in here in these tiny little skirts, riling me up with your little comments. You’ve been so bad, baby, so bad to me. Just needed to be put in your place, right?”

Little tears are starting to leak from your eyes as Steve’s unforgiving thrusts into your squelching pussy, his fat cock rubbing deep into you. You jerk hard as Steve slaps a hand over your ass, the sound echoing throughout the empty store.

“I asked you a fucking question sweetheart,” Steve grunts.

You force words to come out of your throat. “Yes, yes, oh god, Steve, I needed to be put in my place, fuck. Needed, needed you to fuck me Steve, oh-” You glance forward through bleary eyes and see the parking lot just outside the window, still blissfully empty, but the shock of what you’re doing rings through you. Anyone could see you right now. Anyone could walk through those doors and see Steve Harrington fucking you like a bitch.

Your pussy throbs almost painfully, your stomach clenching, and you know, oh God, you know-

“Steve, Steve, I’m gonna, oh God, I’m gonna cum, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you whine.

But Steve does stop, and you cry out in despair as he slips out of you, his strong hands flipping you around so that you can see his flushed and sweaty face. He’s so beautiful that you could nearly pass out. Maybe you will. Steve brings a hand up to wipe a tear off your face, shushing you gently.

“Sorry baby, I just, I gotta see your face when you cum. Gotta see how fucking pretty you look.” He hitches one of your thighs up onto his hip, keeping you spread open for him, and sinks his cock back into you through his words. Your eyes roll back again at the feeling, and you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he’s pounding up into you. He forces you to take his cock all over again, and the knot in your stomach is back with a fucking vengeance. 

With no counter to grip onto, your arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, bringing him down just enough to kiss him again. He groans into your mouth, and you whine back, the both of you tangled together like you’re made for each other. You kind of hope you are.

You break your lips from his, looking up into his dark eyes as you gasp, “Gonna cum, Steve. Oh fuck, you’re gonna, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Go ahead and cum, baby,” Steve whispers, so intimate you nearly cry harder. “Show me how pretty you look when you cum on my cock.”

Your vision whites out for a moment, your mouth gaping open in a silent scream as you clench and gush around Steve’s fat cock, still pounding relentlessly into you. 

“Jesus fuck, sweetheart,” Steve whimpers, “so, fuck, so pretty.”

You gaze up at him with teary eyes, your thighs still trembling, and run a hand through his hair. “Go ahead and cum inside me, Steve. I want, shit, I want you to own me.”

You watch his eyes go wide, before his mouth drops open and his hips stutter, his thick cock throbbing inside you while he floods your sticky cunt with his cum. You hear him whispering softly, barely able to make out his little mutters of “mine, all mine,” while he comes down from his orgasm.

It takes a while for you both to stop shaking, but when you finally breathe normally again, you keep Steve pressed close. He gazes at you, eyes soft as he whispers, “For what it’s worth, I’m- I’m sorry. I know it’s too late, but I am.”

You smile at him softly. You know what he’s like, maybe you always have. Steve Harrington, as horrible as he was in high school, has changed. He’s changed into a wonderful, kind, caring man. So far from the ‘King Steve’ you once knew. You trace a gentle hand down his jaw.

“I know, Steve,” you whisper.

“But do you? I mean, I was awful to you, and I understand if maybe this was just, like, a heat of the moment thing, or whatever. I mean, I can quit if this will make you uncomfortable, knowing that I-”

“Steve,” you answer, cutting him out of his panicked rambling. “I forgive you, okay? I think… I think I forgave you a while ago. Maybe I just hadn’t realized it yet. But I do. I forgive you, Steve.”

“But-”

“I forgive you, Steve Harrington. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. For how I’ve treated you. And… And I know that we may have done this a little backwards, but I love to go on a date with you, Steve. If you wanted, y’know.”

Steve stares at you, shocked, and you open your mouth again to take it back, maybe tell him that you both can be friends, even if it’s not what you want. 

But then Steve is swooping down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, chaste and warm, and it feels like your heart is going to beat out of its chest.

“I wanna take you out so bad, sweetheart. God, I’ll treat you so good, just watch baby, I’ll-”

You giggle at him softly, pecking him on the lips again, just to feel him. And to shut him up, just maybe. It’s like you can stay in this moment forever, kissing a blushing Steve Harrington.

The sound of an approaching car roars from outside, and it’s suddenly horribly apparent that Steve’s soft cock is still inside you, your leg still hitched up onto his hip. You push him away just as he backs up, rushing to stuff his sticky cock back into his pants. He kicks his discarded belt under the counter while you pull your panties up, trying not to think too hard about the strange feeling of Steve’s cum leaking out of your gaping pussy.

The bell dings as someone walks in, and you both whip around, hoping that you look a bit more put together than you feel. You quickly try to pretend to wipe down the counters, just like earlier, but as Steve walks around you to greet the customer, he squeezes the fat of your ass, making you gasp.

You look up to meet his pretty eyes, his puffy, used lips smirking at you knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows. You giggle at him softly. Okay, maybe Steve Harrington is a dick. But maybe, just maybe, that’s not so bad.

[navnae]

Steddie Soulmate AU

prompt: a clock counts down until you meet your soulmate

Prompt from @phantypurple !!! ❤️

Read on AO3

-

At a certain age everyone is assigned a small clock and when it counts down to zero your supposed to meet your soulmate in that exact moment, at least that’s what Steve has been told for majority of his life. Ever since he got his clock his parents were always attached to his hip to see if it finally went to zero after having an encounter with every girl he’s met. They were extremely disappointed when they looked at the clock and it was still counting down, even Steve started to wonder when will he find his soulmate. Fast forward to him meeting Nancy in high school, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t madly in love with her and he genuinely cared for her. They’ve spent so much time together that he was certain that she had to be the one for him. For awhile he never checked his clock because he assumed that it had already went to zero, that was until him and Nancy got into this huge fight at a party leaving both of them in a terrible state of mind. When he left the part he felt the need to take a look at his clock because the way things happened between them it just didn’t seem like they would ever recover from that. Steve pulled the tiny clock out of his pocket, he let out an exhausted sigh when he saw it still counting down and it wasn’t even close to zero in the slightest. He let out a bitter laugh, Nancy was right about their relationship being bullshit. Steve started to believe that this whole soulmate thing was bullshit too.

Steve started working at scoops right after high school and honestly he started to give up when it came to looking for the perfect girl. As much as he doubted his clock he would still check it to see if after every encounter he’d finally see zero, of course with his luck that never happened. Steve felt hopeless, he started to feel worse once he remembered that Nancy’s and Jonathan’s clocks went to zero as soon as they broke up. Then the kids somehow beat him to a better love life than all of the years he’s spent trying to find at least one girl that could be his. He put all that to the side when he had to focus on fighting the Russians and Hawkins was suffering once again because of these monsters that has been summoned by a darker presence. Through all of the beatings he had to endure Robin, his coworker, was there by his side. Steve never thought about Robin differently until Dustin brought up the conversation, because of his pride he tried shutting down the possibility that they would ever be together. They were so different and to him soulmates had to fit you perfectly but in hindsight she did. Robin was able to get him in more ways than his older friends despite growing up together. She got his humor, she was easy to talk to, and she actually made him laugh without even trying. Steve had been blinded by his own reputation to realize that she was everything he needed no matter what their statuses were.

Steve thought about that as the night continued then both of them ended up in the bathroom high off the drugs that they were given prior. They were in separate stalls letting out everything they’ve eaten earlier in the day, not the most proudest moment for either of them but they couldn’t control how their bodies reacted to substances they’ve never had. During this Robin and Steve still managed to laugh at everything leading up to where they were now, maybe it was because they still had drugs in their system who knows. Steve took it upon himself to ask Robin a silly question about peeing herself and to his shock she admitted to doing it making him laugh at her honesty. He’s never met a girl who could say things like that and not feel ashamed which was why he slowly found himself catching feelings for her because she wasn’t like any of the other girls he’s met. Then it came down to Robin asking him a question ‘Have you ever been in love?’ and to that his response was a yes, the person he felt that strongly for was Nancy. Steve pushed that to the side so he could focus on what he wanted to say. Maybe talking to Robin gave him a little bit of a confidence boost to finally tell her how he felt or he was just completely out of his mind and he started talking without thinking. Steve went down this path of confessing his feelings for Robin while explaining why she was great and he had this idea in his head that this would be the moment. He waited for the ‘I feel the same way!’ coming from the other stall but it never did, only silence fell over both of them making things extremely awkward mostly for Robin.

Nothing else was said between them, Steve didn’t understand any of it. Did he approach her wrong, was his tone too much or she couldn’t hear him clearly. ‘Robin?’ Steve said loud enough for her to hear him, worried that she overdosed without him knowing. A huge weight was lifted off his shoulders when he heard her voice again, this time he wanted to make his point clear. Sliding underneath the stall wall to see Robin and ask her what was her thoughts on what he said, her thoughts on him. Robin frowned barely giving Steve eye contact like she wanted to avoid this entire situation and conversation. Steve saw how she was thinking of ways to tell him that whatever he felt for her would never be received. Robin took a deep breath before looking at Steve again, with a soft smile she explained to him that she wasn’t like other girls but not in the way he thought. She went on further to tell him that in high school she couldn’t stop herself from feeling bad because for him it was easy to get the attention of Tammy Thompson who she had a crush on for a long time while he wouldn’t even give her the time of day. Steve looked at Robin with confusion not understanding what she was getting at, if she didn’t have a crush on him then why would she be upset that Tammy was looking at him? None of it clicked to him until Robin subtly spelled it out for him…oh.

Steve couldn’t help but feel like an idiot most importantly he didn’t realize how big of a deal this was for Robin to tell him something so personal. When she thought that the worst was about to come Steve showed her that she had nothing to worry about. It made Robin feel better when they easily went back into a joking manner as if nothing happened and they continued laugh until their stomachs hurt. In the back of Steve’s mind having a strong friendship with Robin meant way more to him than whatever the dumb clock in his pocket had in store for him. Steve pulled it to see if anything changed, he thought that soulmate didn’t necessarily mean romantic in most cases so maybe it went to zero because Robin was platonically his. His eyes gazed upon the clock to still see it counting down, Robin laughed lightly before pulling out her own clock and she turned it towards him.

“Mine is still counting down too.” Robin joked. Steve laughed and he felt a little bit better. Both of them were waiting for that someone to come into their lives but they had no idea when that was going to happen.

A year had past with Steve constantly checking the clock and to no supremely was still counting down. Robin’s stopped awhile ago when she met Vickie so Steve was the only one in the friend group that still had his clock ticking but he noticed that the numbers weren’t that far away from zero. He kept his expectations low though because it seemed like the universe was playing one big joke on him. Steve’s focus had been directed else where when the news showed that Chrissy Cunningham has been killed and there was a lot of conspiracies leading to Eddie Munson. Steve wouldn’t say that he was very fond of the guy not because he gave off freaking vibes, part of the reason being that but Dustin found him interesting for some reason. Steve didn’t find the appeal in the guy especially after seeing him on the news, Steve wanted to stay far away from him. Of course with Dustin being his friend the kid wanted to figure out what happened and prove that Eddie was innocent. Steve had his suspicions about Eddie but Dustin swore out that something supernatural did this even max vouched for him, he was still skeptical of this entire scenario but he was willing to help out with whatever the kids needed.

They went to find Eddie at the boathouse during the night while the chaos in Hawkins was getting worse. Steve, Robin, Dustin, and Max checked out the place to see if he was there. At the time Steve didn’t really care about the way he went about things, that would explain why he would pick up an oar to poke around for Eddie. He knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do and he’d pay for it within a second. Steve’s life flashed before his eyes as his back hit the wall with strong hands holding him down. Once Steve gathered himself now everything started to become clear and standing right in front of him was Eddie. His eyes were glossy, a broken beer bottle in his hand, that look in his eye that could’ve killed Steve if he had the chance. Dustin called out to Eddie to reassure him that they were there to help, now it was Eddie’s to be skeptical. Steve noticed that Eddie looked at him with very little trust in him. If it wasn’t for Dustin neither of the boys would’ve been in the same room to say the least. After a few seconds of Eddie glaring at Steve he eventually loosened his grip on him and backed away from him. Steve let out a breath that he didn’t know was holding until the interaction was over. He watched Dustin comfort Eddie, Steve didn’t know him that well but just from the way his voice cracked while trying to explain that he was innocent made Steve’s heart ache. They listened to his story as he went into detail from start to finish and didn’t why he was so intrigued by Eddie, at a certain point Steve stopped listening to story and his attention was more on… Eddie? Steve snapped out of his thoughts when everyone called it a night, he shrugged off whatever he felt a few seconds prior it was probably nothing.

Steve left the boathouse feeling stranger and he didn’t know why. He tried to ignore it but he kept having thoughts about his clock. Something told him to check it, Steve prepared himself to still see the clock counting down like usual and he reminded himself that if his expectations were low then he wouldn’t be disappointed. He pulled it out giving it a quick glance thinking that his eyes were playing tricks on him he stared at it. Steve’s jaw dropped at the sight of the numbers on the clock.

00:00

“This… has to be a mistake.” Steve mumbled to himself. He got everyone’s attention and they looked at him with raised brows.

“What?” Max asked. All of them watched him stare at the clock with his mouth open. Steve couldn’t think straight, this couldn’t be real life.

“My clock…” Steve trailed off as he ran a hand through his hair. Robin rolled her eyes before taking the clock out of Steve’s had to see what was making him act so weird.

“Let me see this.” Robin examined the clock then her eyes widened once she saw the numbers. Now she understood why Steve was freaking out.

“Can you guys please tell us what’s wrong.” Dustin said clearly annoyed. Robin showed Dustin and Max Steve’s clock, both of them gasped in unison. They caught on to what that meant.

“Steve, you probably don’t want to hear this but if your clock is done counting down and the last person you talked was-“

“Eddie,” Steve finished Robin’s sentence, ‘that means Eddie’s my soulmate.”

-

Part 2

This took way longer than expected and thus definitely will need a part two. For everyone who sent a prompt I will get yours for right now I’m going in order. Hopefully this was enjoyable despite how the clock concept kind of doesn’t make sense but hey I tried. Don’t be shy send more prompts!!! :)

[neonovember]

Almost

summary: weeks away on a covert operation had steve longing to be where he was meant to: between your thighs. Didn’t they say distance made the heart grow fonder?

warnings; overstimulation, depraved steve as well as touch starved? steve, smut, p in v, housewife kink, mentions of violence

a/n: steve is like, really depraved in this..A mission goes wrong and what does he do? Takes it out on your pussy :)

The smooth sounds of Etta James waft through the kitchen, the vinyl recorder Sam had gifted the both of you sits perched on the windowsill nook.

You’re almost done with the roast you’ve prepped earlier, preheating the oven before clearing away the dirtied utensils strewn about the granite countertop. Steve would be coming home tonight, finally, after 2 weeks away on some undercover mission Fury refused to tell you about.

God you truly felt like a part of you was missing each time he slung his duffel bag across his body, your heart aching with every passing day where you didn’t where or how he was, always left on edge for fear of getting that phone call.

Missions like these were rare but they still were expected from the super soldier, and at times you wished that he was solely yours, not America’s golden boy.

You usually cooked together, you and Steve, putting the expansive commercial oven to use, and with the summer evenings stretching into warm nights it was perfect to hold dinner parties for the rest of the team.

But there was something about cooking something just for him, your heart preened whenever he’d groan in appreciation for a meal that you created, testing out the waters with different flavours and tastes. He’d always eat your food he’d said, no matter if it tasted like hot garbage or a fine dining restaurant. You’d shoved him then, telling him your food would always be good. You didn’t go to culinary school and shelve over thousands of dollars that you were still paying, for it to be anything else.

Placing the marinated glazed chicken into the warmed oven you set the oven to cook for an hour, give or take, just in time for Steve’s arrival home. The house had already begun to smell like caramelised onions and honey and feared you might eat the whole thing before he gets here.

You began finishing the dessert you’d curated last night, the recipe was one you fine-tuned over these weeks, noting to add to your menu once you’d gotten Steve’s approval. He’d always helped you with the development of new menu items, with such enhanced senses it was like having a table full of experts, sometimes you’d even say he had better taste than you.

Sometimes.

The French doors of your shared home were left open, letting the syrupy warm rays flood into the living room, the smell of chrysanthemums you’d planted was wafting in, and the gentle crash of waves glided with the jazz sounds coming from your vinyl player.

You so badly wanted to lay on the plush rug and just bask in the summer heat, it was just right, not too hot, but enough to get your skin warmed. Your mind shifted to summer days in which you and Steve lay just right there on the living room floor, your body sprawled out against his beating chest.

His soft words reading a novel or nimble hands across your warm body lulling you both to sleep. You can’t remember how long it’s been since you and Steve just existed, outside of missions and superhero duties, but just exist, as two people who were in love.

It was what made today all the more important, the super soldier mantle Steve rested on would be deserted for a couple weeks, after you’d challenge to sue Fury over refusing to give Steve his well-deserved break.

There was still a mountain of dishes waiting for you in the kitchen sink, and you began to roll up your skills to tackle them before you hear the front doors slam open, the bang of it vibrating throughout the expansive house.

You glance at the chestnut case that has your pistol in it, the one Steve gifted you when he was away on missions and anxious about your safety.

You’d spend countless hours with both Steve and Natasha learning how to shoot properly, the kickback now gliding with your body instead of pushing you two steps back.

You found that you were quite good at it anyway, the blaring bull's eye shots in the shooting range causing Natasha to question if you really were who you said you were.

If anybody walked through that hallway looking for a helpless wife to take advantage of, they would be met with a hole in their chest, Steve made sure of it.

There is a loud thud, like something big and heavy dropping to the ground, and it causes you to bristle, facing backwards from the opening hallway, fingers gripping the sink and eyes strained on the drawer to the right.

Maybe you weren’t the fearless woman you thought you were.

You begin to maneuver your body to reach for your pistol before you hear the familiar sound of Steve’s boots against the hardwood floor.

Of course, it’s him.

You laugh at yourself as the beating in your heart eases, your chest evening out in neutral breaths and you're instead filled with eager excitement at his long-awaited arrival.

You turn quickly, a smile stretched almost painfully on your face, ready to meet the site of his open arms and warm smile. But Instead, you’re met with a quite different view.

Steve is standing there, still dressed down in his soldier uniform, the star dirtied with ash, blood and mud. His boots press into the hardwood floor, leaving large footprints marked with dirt.

Steve's eyes stare directly at you, unwavering and a deep cerulean blue. He looks animalistic, a wolf life expression that takes over his usual soft features, his blond hair tussles and mussed, all over the place as if he’s run his hands through it too many times.

His cheeks are rosy, and his knuckles are bruised and god why is it so hot in here? You can’t take your eyes away from his intense stare, mouth agape and your back pressed into the kitchen sink.

His chest is heaving up and down and he breaks his stare to let it travel across your body, eyes zeroing in on the apron he’d bought you, tied around your waist, hugging your curves and pressing your boobs, causing them to spill out.

Your hair is held up high, messy but kept out of your face, and you don’t think you look the picture of presentable, much less sexy but a dark look takes over his features, and his bloodied knuckles are pressed into tight fists.

The loud thunk of his shield drops to the floor, leaving an imprint of dirt and dust, and that simple act has you breathless, your thighs squeezing against each other.

What happened? Why was he acting like this? Steve was all smiles and soft kisses when he’d come back from missions, his demeanour now, well it almost looked as if he was still locked in his super soldier mindset, with you being the target.

“Steve?” You squeak out, gulping down a breath.

He growls, he literally growls, the sound vibrates through his chest and in two long strides he’s looming over your trembling figure.

You don’t have a second to react before he’s gripping your hips, maneuvering your body to bend over the granite countertop, lips crashing into your own.

He gulps down the moans that fill your mouth, hands trailing all across your body, squeezing, pinching, gripping. His shoulders relax as if the stress of everything has just been lifted off his shoulder, and his fingers come up to cradle your head, deepening the kiss.

His tongue trails over your lips, before biting down on them, causing you to let out a pretty squeak that allows him to shelve his tongue into your mouth. Steve was usually so gentle, all sweet honey kisses, now though, this kiss was anything but that. All teeth and tongue, the truth of his eagerness and insatiability falling into your mouth.

The bruising kiss begins to teeter on asphyxiation before he lets go of your lips with a loud pop, the instability burning in his dark orbs seems to shine even brighter now, as he begins to trail bruises down the column of your throat.

Steve begins to softly rock his body against your own, your head thrown back as you feel the stiff hard on press into the softness of your thighs.

Steve groans into your skin, sucking on the taste of it, vanilla and lavender bursting on his tongue from the body wash from earlier and your gardening from the morning.

He begins to move down your neck, leaving hickeys that were purposefully hard to obscure. Steve kneels at the foot of the counter, hands gripping your hips as he sucks a bruising kiss on the dimple sitting on your thigh.

Steve begins to murmur as you rack your fingers through his dirtied blonde strands,

“Mission..bad, you- you good. So fucking good” Steve groans as he reaches his fingers to tug your lace panties down. It’s all he says before he pulls them and tucks them into his pocket.

Your eyes widen as he rides your fitted apron up to your stomach, pushing your stomach down onto the granite countertop, before gripping your thighs, and placing them on his shoulders. He kisses his way to your pussy, licking at the skin, his harsh breaths on your clit causing you to moan loudly.

“Steve” You groan in earnest, needing him where he refused to be.

His eyes flicker up to your face, a smirk falling on his before he licks a long stripe through your folds, moaning at the taste, before sucking harshly. You groan his name loudly, head lulling back as you enjoy his harsh bruising tongue.

Steve moves his tongue to suck on your clit, his fingers coming up to caress your thighs, before shelving a digit into your pussy.

Steve begins to curl his thick fingers into you, eyes fixated on your withering body, watching every moan, every shiver, every groan of his name as he moves his tongue and hands to leave you in a heaping mess of arousal.

How long would it take before he broke you? The thought caused his erection to press painfully against him, spurring him to add a second digit. You try and close your legs, hands coming up to press against his chest before his thick arms come up to press your stomach back down.

Steve tutts mockingly, refusing to stop his rough mouth against your pussy and his fingers from pressing into your walls.

Your eyes begin to roll into the back of your head as Steve’s ring finger glides over a particularly spongy spot in your pussy, he grins against your clit, driving his fingers deeper into you as he curls them against the spot. Arousal drips from between his fingers, collecting onto the granite countertop as the wave of pleasure crashes down on you, Steve refuses to ease his motions, driving harsher and further as your orgasm violently.

Your thighs shake from beside his head, your back arching from the countertop as your vision clouds with saccharine pleasure.

You can’t speak, the broken syllables of his name the only thing falling from your lips as you lay shaking, uncontrollably. Steve’s eyes darken as he watches you, his mouth sucking onto your clit as he helps you ride the waves of your orgasm.

“That’s it, just like that my pretty girl, god don’t you look so pretty underneath me?” Steve mutters more to himself than anything, fingers trailing your trembling clit as he collects the last of your arousal, sucking on his digits as he slowly raises from his knelt position.

His hands come up to grip your waist, fingers wiping down across your face, before gripping your cheek, a singular thumb wiping the tears collecting on your waterline.

“What do you want?” Steve says, the question startles you, it’s Steve asking for your permission, the truth of his goodness shining through even at times like this, where you could practically feel his clothed cock bumping into your stomach and the shivers that went down his back as if he’d cum right then and there.

Steve would still jump into a cold shower if you told him to. But you didn’t, no you didn’t want that at all, you wanted him in you as deep as possible

“I want you Stevie, and I want it all” You whisper breathlessly, nails digging into his shoulder blade as he groans audibly. His eyes darken with a possessiveness that tells you you'll leave limping and blissed out. A shiver runs down your back as Steve trails his eyes down the prisms of your body underneath him, hands trailing over bite marks and bruises.

“Well, who am I to deny my pretty girl?” Steve says, before snapping his hips into the junction of your thighs. Steve doesn't give you a second to get accustomed to the sheer size and girth of his cock, before plummeting into you roughly, a groan passing his lips as your name falls and rolls over his tongue.

“Fuck, you feel so good baby, so fucking good” Steve moans into your skin, sucking on the slope of your shoulder as you grip onto him tightly, his cock hitting and gliding against your greedy walls just right.

“Been thinkin’ bout this the entire mission, almost got Sam killed cause this pretty little pussy was on my mind all. damn. day” Steve grunts, fasting his pace so that he rutted into you loudly, and with such ferociousness, you feared a bruise would appear.

The pornographic sounds of your moans and the thick slick of Steve's cock pounding into your dripping pussy echoed across the house, emulating into the front yard from the large open living room doors and for once you were glad your shared home was a further drive up from the surrounding neighbours

Your head lulls back as Steve’s thrusts deepen, your walls fluttering around his length as he repeatedly pounds into your cervix. Steve reaches his hands to grip your neck, and carefully raises your arched back to rest in his arms. With one hand wrapped around your waist, Steve raises your thigh to rest on his shoulder, enabling him to press you into the granite countertop, going impossibly deeper than you fear you would split in two.

“Just like that, god you take me so well doll, gripping me so fucking tight” Steve groans into your ear, his thumb tracing the outline of your face, pushing the strands of hair pack behind your ears and raising your body to grind onto his own.

Your hips begin to move on their own, your greedy pussy chasing the release that was just around the corner, Steve's cock brushes against the spongy spot he'd abused not even a few moments ago, slowing his pace to drive deeper, almost cursing you to bounce off of him.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, as spit begins to dribble from your open mouth, Steve's cock filled you to the brim, leaving you almost suffocatingly full, each stroke began before the last had even ended, somehow never letting you feel empty as his thickness engulfed your tight walls.

It had taken a while to get used to the sheer size of him, the first few times he'd made you come with just the tip, but god even know, years later, you felt like you were mere moments from collapsing onto him, cumming just from the sensation of his cock driving against your walls.

And as if Steve was reading your mind, he slips a hand to circle your clit, and all it takes is the roughness of his thick fingers before you’re cumming around him, your walls squeezing him tightly as your mind blackens. Your nails press into his back, scraping against the expansive muscle, causing him to groan loudly as your pussy practically flutters around him.

Steves presses sloppy kisses across your body, humming into you, nodding as he watches through hidden lids, growling as you moan his name loudly. He made you like this, a heaping blubbering mess incapable of even coherent English, he loves it, he craves it, the sight below him, refusing to blink of fear of missing even a second of your arched body, shaking violently.

“Let it out darling, let it out, I’ve got you babygirl” Steve murmurs. The sweet pet name Steve whispers, contrasts against the harsh pace he's resumed, pressing into you insatiable, even as the aftershocks of your orgasm continue to run through you.

“Just one more baby, just one more, can you give me one more? Hm? Will you let me empty my cum into this tight little hole?” Steve groans, as he grips the small of your back, pressing you into his chest as he loses all abandon. What seemed to be the last of Steve's restraints is broken as he rocks into you with such roughness all you can do is grip his arm tightly, head rocking against his shoulder as he slides his thick cock into your fluttering walls.

Holding you up with just one hand around your waist, Steve fucks up into you mid-air, eyes laser-focused on the image of his cock disappearing into your cunt, the slickness of your orgasm glistening across his length, and dripping down your folds.

Your walls tighten unconsciously as Steve thrust into you from a different angle, gliding his thick cock against your walls in ways you didn't think were possible, Steve groans your name as the feel of your tightenings walls grip his length, causing him to stifle as his thrust grow sloppy, unable to move as if your cunt has wrapped an iron grip on it.

Profanities fall from Steve's lips as he throws his head back, the dirty blond strands lying messy onto his forehead, Steve's grip on your waist tightens painfully, as he shoves the entirety of his length into your cunt, his cock still thrusting into you uncontrollably. And as if his own climax triggers your own, you throw your head back in equal ecstasy, revelling in the burning hot pleasure falling down the slope of your back. Thick white ropes of cum shoot into your quivering hole, coating your walls with its milky slick, both of your arousals leaking from between your folds.

You slump your back onto the kitchen countertop, the coolness of the granite causing you to groan as it eases the burning heat radiating off of your body thanks to the human furnace above you. Steve follows your motions slumping onto you, as he basks in the aftershocks of pleasure.

A moment passes, with you running your nails across his back before raking them through his dampened curls, humming gently against his heated chest. Steve signs in pleasured relief, pressing into you as if he wanted to get under your skin. You whisper into his ear, careful to keep your voice soft as the exhaustion of the mission becomes evident on his face.

“Well, that was quite the welcome,” You say, grinning into his ear

“I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you” Steve replies with a snort, raising his face from between the pillow of your breasts, a smirk gracing his once again softened features.

There was truth to what he was saying before, even in the throes of pleasure, in fact being distracted was an understatement. This mission was a particularly long one, and he missed the feeling of your sweet cunt wrapped around him so perfectly. There were countless times when Steve would find himself shamelessly thrusting into the column of his wrist thinking of you, nights in sweaty motel rooms where all he could think, all he could breathe was you. You were blissfully unaware of it, the times when he’d call and thrust to the voice and video of you, under the covers whilst you chatted obliviously to his salacious doings.

He just couldn't help it, you were just too good, and most days he could restrain himself but today? When the first thing he could smell was the musky scent of your slick between your thighs? And the scene that he walked into? He was ravenous. It didn't help that you were dressed in one of those frilly aprons, cooking a meal just for him, his sweet girl, so eager to have him home that you'd gotten up extra early.

There was a deeper part of him, one that longed for this to be the norm, coming home to those sweet hips swaying along to the music, his chest against your back as he danced along with you, fucking up into you against the hallway before eating dinner together.

“Dinners almost ready, ya know you’re lucky I put the roast in before you came or else we'd be having burnt potatoes and dry chicken,” You say, however making no motion to get up quite yet.

“My perfect amazing wife, you know I would eat it anyway” Steve sings songs, pressing a soft kiss onto your clavicle, before slowly rising from his slouched position across you. Gently pulling you into his arms with a soft “come here”.

“Besides, I’m feeling quite satisfied anyway” Steve whispers cheekily, looking down at you as you hug his torso.

“Not on god's green earth am I going to let a perfectly good chicken go to waste” You gruff, slapping Steve playfully, as you wobble towards the oven. Steve rushes forward, hand gripping your arm as he gently wraps you into his arms tutting disapprovingly, as he carries you bridal style towards the large leather couch in the living room.

Gently placing you down, Steve takes out the pot roast himself, groaning as he smells the caramelized onions and honey chicken oozing with bubbling juices and herbed vegetables stuffed around the meat.

“Fuck, this smells almost as good as you do pretty girl,” Steve says from the kitchen, you smile softly, your chest preening in happiness as you drink in his praises.

Fixing both of you a plate, Steve moves you to sit sprawled across his lap, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead as he breathes in the decadent scent you carried after sex. Steve leans in, his hot breath against your earlobe before he utters,

“Almost”

Divider by @firefly-graphics !

send an ask to be part of my taglist for steve, and requests are always open :)

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

I Love You, Donna Karan

pairing: bucky barnes  x reader (named angela)

word count: 3.5k

comments, likes, reblogs, and suggestions highly appreciated <3

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

"So, I guess that's it. It's over," you sighed, gently pulling your hands back from Bucky's. You sat in a booth at Chubby's across from him, and he was letting you down easy. Not that you were phased. You knew what you were signed up for dating him.

"Two weeks," Bucky smiled apologetically, clasping his hands together. "You knew that going in."

"I did," you nodded, grabbing your things and standing up to leave.

"Wait...w-where are you going?" Bucky looked up at you with his puppy dog eyes.

You scoffed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were done letting me down easy. Go ahead," you raised your eyebrows as you sat back down.

Bucky looked a bit taken aback, "Never mind."

"Are you okay?" you frowned.

"You're just taking this so well," he scrunched up his face like he couldn't understand how someone could still be standing after he rejected them.

"It was a great two weeks. We had fun," you stated plainly.

"Yeah, we did," he agreed.

"So?"

"So...see ya?"

You quirked your lips, nodding slightly before grabbing your things and leaving the booth. You glanced back at him before climbing up the stairs to the exit, unable to figure out his true intentions.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

Bucky Barnes might be a heartbreaker, but you were no saint either. You dated around, landing on John, a guy from your history class who seemed semi-interesting. You were regretting your earlier judgements as he seemed to love talking about himself and stealing your fries more than anything. You sat across from him in Chubby's, consequently the same booth you had shared with Bucky that day you broke up last week.

"So, Angela, the coach says, 'Scooter!' That's what he calls me, Scooter," the boy smiled, so full of himself it made you physically cringe. "'Go in there and save the day.'"

"Gee what happened, Scooter?" you rested your chin in your palm, trying for a grin. How could someone be so interested in himself and so boring to talk to at the same time? You have to make an effort not to roll your eyes. That would be rude. At this point, you would give anything not to hear another one of his heroic tales from the lacrosse team. He was on the bench for God's sake.

"Well, I saved the day," he continued, pointing at himself with both hands like it wasn't clear enough that he couldn't talk about anything else. Then, he leaned forward and had the audacity to ask, "You wanna make out?"

Thankfully, your knight in shining armor appeared...in the form of Bucky. This was going to be interesting. At this point, anything was better than having to press your lips against John's crusty, chapped ones.

"Hey, Bucky," you reached out to pat his arm.

"Hey," Bucky replied. He reached down and picked up your book. "Is this...a book of sonnets?" he sounded surprised for whatever reason.

"Yes," you said incredulously, raising one eyebrow.

Bucky started giggling maniacally, and for some reason, it was contagious. You laughed lightly, asking, "Why are you giggling?"

"Am I?" His voice broke a little because of how high-pitched it was. This only made him giggle even more.

"What's the matter with you?" you frowned, genuinely confused by his behavior.

He turned around, still laughing like a little kid. You saw that he was locking eyes with Steve, who said something to him that you didn't quite catch.

Bucky turned around, locking eyes with you now. He stared straight into your eyes, and you were more than a little weirded out.

"Bucky, why are you looking at me like that?" You were serious now. You didn't like how strange he was being at all.

"Because I never have before...," he trailed off, dropping your book before walking away to talk to Steve.

What a weirdo, you thought before shaking your head and turning back to John.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Monday morning, you walked into school early to ask Mr. Fury a question about the history test. You found Bucky talking to Steve (who's surprised?) and walked up to them, hoping to talk to Bucky about the weirdness at Chubby's. Steve caught your eye, and it seemed like he was announcing your arrival to Bucky which caused him to turn around, look terrified, and bolt in the other direction.

Okay, now he was being even weirder than that night at Chubby's. You were suddenly nervous which made no sense. You were Angela Moore, you didn't get butterflies over boys.

Bucky ran into the janitor's closet and slammed the door behind him. Steve tried to open the door, but Bucky had evidently locked it.

"Hi, Angela," Steve smiled apologetically.

"Hi, Steve," you smiled back, raising your eyebrows.

"Uh, Bucky's in the closet," Steve explained as if you didn't just see him bolt in two seconds ago.

You walked up to the closet, pressing your ear lightly against the door. "Hey, Bucky," you greeted.

"Angela! You smell nice," Bucky replied.

You frowned. "What?" you mouthed to Steve. You rolled your eyes, walking away.

"Hey, Nat," you greeted as you passed her.

"Hey, Angela," she replied back, walking to Steve.

You went to get some water from the drinking fountain before realizing how chapped your lips were. You knew Nat would have some lip gloss you could borrow, so you walked back over to the corner she and Steve were in. Bucky was with them, so you guessed he got over his stay in the janitor's closet. When he saw you, he tried to bolt back into the closet before Nat stopped him and pushed him toward you. What was going on?

"Hey, Bucky," you laughed a little at the frazzled state he was in.

"Hi," he smiled shyly.

"Do you wanna go out and get something to eat later?" you asked. This way you could talk to him, just as friends, without it being weird.

"I'd like that," he replied.

You nodded. "Oh, I saw this, and I thought of you," you smiled, pulling out a seashell you found on the lake trip you took with your dad the day before. You handed it to him before leaving, "See ya."

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

The next day, you found yourself at Chubby's again after school. You picked a table near the stairs this time, with high swivel chairs. Bucky walked over to where you were sitting after picking a song on the jukebox.

"Vivaldi's Four Seasons, I love that," you smiled up at him.

"So do I!" Bucky sounded genuinely enthusiastic.

"It's so beautiful. If you close your eyes, you can actually see the seasons change," you closed your eyes briefly, seeing it even now.

"I said that!" Bucky was smiling a mile wide. "I said the exact same thing." He took a sip of his cola.

"You know, I really like hanging out with you. Maybe we could see a movie later on this week," you suggested.

"I hear there's a new Van Damme movie opening," Bucky grinned, almost as if he knew...

"I love Van Damme," you beamed at him.

"I know," he let out a laugh. "So, how about Friday night?"

"Oh, I have plans with John that night," you rolled your eyes.

"You're still going out with John?" Bucky sounded taken aback.

"Yeah," you said slowly, scoffing a little.

"Oh." Why did he sound...disappointed? "I'd better go check on our food." He turned to leave.

What the heck was that? you thought, sighing. We're just friends, why is he acting so weird?

"Well, here we go," Bucky returned with your fries.

"Great," you picked one up to munch on.

"Can I ask you something?" Bucky was staring at you again...just like the other day you were at Chubby's.

"You can ask me anything." You meant it.

"What do you think of Steve and Nat?" he licked his lips, seemingly nervous like he needed you to tell the truth.

"I think they're a great couple," you nodded, satisfied with your response.

"Maybe we can have what they have." Well, that came out of nowhere.

"Bucky, we're not even dating," you frowned up at him.

"What do you call what we're doing right now?" Oh God, he didn't seriously think that...

"You asked me out on a date, right?" he smiled nervously.

"I asked you to go get something to eat," you stated plainly. So, this is why he was being weird. He...liked you. So why did your heart feel a pang as you let him down easy like he let you down two weeks ago? Why did you feel like saying yes to him despite everything?

"You gave me a seashell," his eyes were pleading now.

You looked down before staring back up into his eyes, "Sometimes a seashell is just a seashell." A beat.

"Look, Angela, I want to be with you more than anybody in this entire world," his eyes carried so much emotion that it was beginning to overwhelm you. "Why can't we be Steve and Nat?"

You frowned, looking down at the food before turning your eyes back to his. "I'm sorry. I gotta go," you frowned at him, grabbing your bag and making a quick exit up the stairs.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

On Friday, you were once again at Chubby's. That place seriously got a run for its money from the entire John Adams High student body. Even now, you saw about twenty of your classmates warming the other booths.

You were in the same booth as you were during your last date with John. This time, he sat next to you. He was chatting it up about his favorite subject per usual: himself. You sighed, munching on a fry and listening to his pathetic lacrosse bench boy tales when in came Bucky.

Why did he always crash your dates with John?

This time, he cut straight to the point, heading for your booth and sliding in across from the two of you. He held his hands up, "Angela, hear me out. It will just take a minute. You don't mind, do you?" This was directed to John.

"You want a fry?" John mumbled, his mouth full. Gross.

Bucky shook his head before continuing, "Look, I read the same books as you, I listen to the same music, and I go to the same movies. So when I tell you how I feel, it is not just words."

"Barnes, I'm on a date here. Come on," John grumbled. You glanced at him, frowning, before turning your attention back to Bucky.

"Why are you doing this?" you needed to know. Why was he pursuing you relentlessly? So he could break your heart for real next time? "We went out. You told me it was only going to be for two weeks, and then it was going to be over."

"I know that you're scared, okay? I'm scared, too." Bucky gestured with his hands, "We both love Vivaldi, and we're both scared."

"I'm scared, too," John cut in. You rolled your eyes in exasperation, before turning back to Bucky.

"Bucky, you've never been in a relationship for longer than two weeks, and neither have I. We wouldn't know what to do," you stared into his eyes, searching for some sign of his sincerity.

"You know what?" John cut in. "This is getting too heavy for me, so I'm taking my fries and I'm leaving."

"John!" You cried, only halfheartedly.

"Oh, I paid for these fries," he stated before walking out.

You didn't mind him leaving that much. It almost felt like he was crashing your conversation with Bucky rather than the other way around.

"Give me a chance," you had never seen Bucky more serious in the short time you'd known him. "I-I just want to see you."

You lowered your head, glancing up at him, trying to discern whether this was a terrible idea that would crash and burn in the next week.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

You were at Barelli's the next night, next to Bucky. This was definitely a step up from Chubby's, but you weren't sure if all this was necessary. You had worn the nicest thing you owned, a hunter green sleeveless dress. The table was covered with a white tablecloth that was the cleanest thing you had ever seen, and you didn't recognize half the dishes on the menu, including the strange appetizer currently on your table.

"Bucky, this is really fancy," you gestured down at everything covering the table.

"You think this is fancy? I don't think it's that fancy," he took a sip of water as you did. As soon as the glasses left your lips, two waiters were there ready to replace them. Bucky glanced at you, trying not to show how nervous he was.

"Bucky and Angela!" you turned around, finding Steve and Nat, dressed to the stars. "What a surprise, huh?" Steve chuckled.

"Hi, guys," Nat looked perplexed at finding you and Bucky here.

"Talk about coincidences," Steve looked too happy for this to be accidental. Of course, he would plan something like this. "Of all the restaurants in the town."

"Yeah, and all the suits," Bucky added, which you didn't understand, but you shrugged it off.

"Enjoy," Steve and Nat left you to find their own table.

The maitre d' appeared, "I have come to take your order. You no touch the pate. It's not good?"

"I really don't know what it is," Bucky frowned up at the maitre d'.

"It's...como si dice? Goose liver," he answered.

You swallowed, trying not to gag in front of the fancy maitre d' while Bucky made his grossed-out face at you.

"You requested it when you telephoned this afternoon," he continued.

"When I called, did I sound like I had curly hair and was ninety?" Bucky asked.

"Si," the maitre d' responded jovially.

After he left, you turned to your companion. "Bucky, you said you knew me. If you really knew me, why would you bring me here?"

Bucky hesitated, then pursed his lips before starting, "Because I have...no idea what I'm doing." Another pause. He started gesturing with his hands, "I-I don't know how to be myself around you. I really want you to like me, Angela."

"I do like you. If I didn't I wouldn't be here," you responded genuinely.

"So, then why is this so hard?" Bucky sounded slightly exasperated.

"I've never had a serious relationship either," you admitted. "Every time I got close to someone, I just figured it was best to get away before we hurt each other. Is someone gonna get hurt here, Bucky?"

Bucky looked long and hard at you before saying simply, "No. No, not if we're ourselves."

You looked down, swallowing, trying to convince yourself to believe he was being sincere.

"Hey, Eduardo," Bucky signaled over the maitre d'.

"Si?"

"Could you get rid of this and just bring us a couple of burgers?"

"You no like?" the maitre d' sounded miffed.

"No," Bucky stated simply, giving you a small smile.

"We like burgers," you added, returning the smile.

The maitre d' clapped, thankfully asking no further questions. "Barelli's is a place where all your dreams come true." He snapped his fingers at the waiter. "Two burgers!"

"Fries," you called. Very important.

"Oh, yeah, and get some ketchup, too," Bucky added. Essential.

"Hmm!" the maitre d' looked appalled, but he turned away, complying with your wishes.

Bucky turned back to you, "Do you mind if I take this tie off?"

"Oh, please, never wear a tie again, okay?" you leaned forward to loosen it for him. Bucky chuckled. "Why do you have that thing anyway? It can't be yours."

Bucky worked at loosening his tie further, tilting his head as he looked up at you, "Well, you know, I'm not one to give up any names, but...Steve. All of this was Steve." He smiled apologetically, "He's a good guy. He just wants us to have what he and Nat have.

The two of you glanced over to the other side of the restaurant.

"That's it! I have had it!" Nat stood up, throwing down her napkin, raising her hands up in frustration at Steve. "I don't want to put the Sweet'N Low in my purse!"

Steve shushed her vigorously, glancing around surreptitiously as if checking to make sure no one had heard her outburst. "You're going to get us in trouble in our place!"

"I don't want this to be our place!" Nat screeched.

"You're ruining our anniversary!" Steve whined.

"What anniversary is this anyway? Is this the first time we kissed? The first time we went out? The first time we met? What? What is it?" Nat was running her mouth a mile a minute, drilling Steve faster than you could keep up.

"It's the anniversary of the first time we ate at Barelli's! How could you forget?" poor Steve sounded genuinely upset.

"Because I hate Barelli's!" Nat sounded even more upset. "I am 50 years away from going to Barelli's! Can't we just go downtown and grab a pretzel from a cart?!"

"Fine! I'm not making you happy? Go!" Steve shouted. "You think you're going to find somebody else at your age?"

Nat was clearly holding back her next words, bringing her hands up, her perfect french manicure glinting in the dim lighting of the restaurant.

The maitre d' came back out with a consternated expression, "Signora Nat, I must request that you keep your voice down!" He sounded pained.

Nat actually growled at the maitre d' who recoiled immediately. "Thank you so much," he left quickly at that.

As comical as your friends' fight was, you couldn't help but feel nervous. "This is what scares me. You get close to someone, and you end up hating each other."

"Angela, there's nothing to be scared of," Bucky gave you that boyish grin he had perfected over his many years of flirting. "When two people are truly, truly in love, there's no way they can end up hating each other."

"Steve, look at us!" you turned your attention back to Nat who was once again taking it out on Steve. "I am yelling at you, and you're not even getting mad at me."

"Grrr," Steve gave the saddest attempt at a growl you had ever witnessed. Even the baby lion cubs at the zoo could do better. You had to laugh at that, grinning at Bucky to know it was okay.

Nat laughed in his face, "You call that a growl? That was pathetic."

Steve's face split into the inkling of a smile, "Well, I could never really get mad at you."

Nat was calmer now, "Steve, I just don't want to celebrate any more occasions."

"I-I was just doing it 'cause I thought that's what you wanted," Steve looked more amused than anything else.

"No! I just want to be seventeen."

"Me too." At that, Steve cleared the table, pushing all the expensive dishes off the table where they crashed loudly into the ground. Eduardo came out of the kitchen, screaming as Steve pushed Nat against the table, kissing her so passionately that it would make Romeo jealous.

You and Bucky grinned at them. "Bucky?"

"Angela?" he turned back to face you.

"I want what they have," you said before leaning in to plant a gentle kiss to his soft pink lips. Pulling apart, you looked up at him, noticing for the first time that there was a little green in those ocean eyes of his. You smiled at each other, realizing that everything would be okay. You would give this a try because you knew you could trust him to like you as much as you found yourself liking him.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

A week later, Bucky picked you up to come over for Thanksgiving at the apartment with Sam and Clint. The Rogers were with you, arms loaded up with various dishes for the big dinner.

Morgan opened the door to the apartment.

"Hey! Look, Clint, they found our turkey," clearly Sam had failed to procure and cook one himself. He eyed the one Mr. Fury was holding with palpable relief written all over his face.

"Did you two actually believe that we thought you could pull this off, huh?" Tony asked them as he walked in.

"You guys can't make toast," Morgan smirked at them.

"Sam, do you at least have some clean dishes?" Pepper asked, disappointment already on her face.

"No," he grinned at her, totally unashamed at the barren state of his kitchen.

"I'll carve the bird," Mr. Fury pronounced. "Now, everybody wants dark meat, right?"

"No!" everyone shouted in unison.

"I'm so glad I'm here, Bucky," you smiled up at him. He held out his hand for your taking before he walked the two of you into the apartment.

"Um, before we sit down, I'd like to say thanks for all the good things that have happened to us," Bucky announced to the family. "And to me," he added quietly, locking eyes with you once more.

౨ৎ･ﾟ:*

[sweet-villain]

Just Give Me A Reason~ B.H

Summary : You bought Billy a ring that you want to propose with, it has his initials and yours together. But you're scared and talk to Robin while Billy is listening behind the wall, you had no idea he was home.

quinnswife86

" Can I see it?" Robin asked. She had came over after her shift at Family Video, you needed to talk to her. She was your best friend and even though she disapproved of you being with Billy, she still was there no matter what.

In your hands you held a blue velvet box twisting it over and over with your fingers. You had bought a ring planning to propose to Billy, he was the best thing that has happened to you in the shit hole, Hawkins. You wanted this so badly.

You slide the box to her on the kitchen counter and her hand grabbed onto the little small box as she holds it in her hands.

" I didn't know you had this in you" she opens it and her eyes get wide seeing the ring. She takes it out of the box and holds in her hands turning it around seeing the initials of both his name and yours.

" This must cost a fortune" she gasped. The ring was was silver band that was beautiful and just in his ring size. You knew it by taking one of his rings one day from his small bowl that he kept in the room by his bed. He hadn't even noticed it was gone.

" I was saving it to get out of Hawkins, but I want to do this first. I love him so much" Robin puts the ring back into the small blue velvet box and closes it.

Meanwhile Billy had gotten home from work, you two had gradated high school and both got jobs. He worked as a mechanic while you worked in the diner, you both had found a place together close to your friends. He stood against the opposite wall of the kitchen, his back to the wall.

You wanted to marry him? He didn't know how to feel about this. He felt like he wasn't ready for that step with you. He does love you, and shows you in his own way.

His head bowed while his body shook, breathing patterned changed as he held in the tears that wanted to escape his eyes. He didn't know what to feel, happy or scared. Marriage scared Billy Hargrove.

Billy frequently blinked his eyes feeling the tears coming as he laid his head back against the wall. Some of curls plastering against his forehead. His lip trembled feeling his heart clenching at the thought of not wanting this. He could just picture the look on your face when he tells you he doesn't want to get married. The crushed look on your face, the tears, the same trembling lip he has now, the hurt in your eyes and he knew you would run from him. He was scared.

" When are you going to do it?" Robin asked, Billy body stiffed as he awaited your answering wanting to be prepared. " Honestly, I don't know Robin. I'm so scared" you tell her. From the corner of the wall he peeked out to see how upset you were and trying to keep it together as Robin rubbed your back.

" You love him, right?" you nodded. " He loves you?" you nodded again. " when the time feels right, then do it"

" Thank you for being here, I don't know what I would do without you Buckley" Robin shrugged, a small smile on her lips. She was happy you wanted to take this big step but in the back of her mind she was worried that it all could wrong and you'd fall apart at her front step of her home.

" I should go, I have work tomorrow and who know what dingus might do tomorrow if I'm not there" you giggled knowing how Steve is. Robin and Steve were two peas in a pot.

" Tell him I said hello" you walked her out to the door. Billy had shifted slowly off the wall and into the kitchen grabbing a cookie that you had made earlier just for him when he came home and made his way to the back. You hadn't notice that he was home until you saw his Camaro in the driveway.

" Billy?" you shout to him after walking Robin out. Closing the door you were met by silence. Where could he be? The shower wasn't on like he usually after he comes home from work. You made your way into the kitchen, he wasn't there scarfing the food that you cooked for him over the stove. He wasn't on the couch flipping through the tv and he wasn't at the kitchen table waiting for you to greet him.

Where was he?

You had noticed puffs of smoke coming from the back. Opening the back door and it creaked as you did, there stood Billy with his hands in his pockets and a cigarette laid loosely on his lips as he stared into the unknown.

" Billy?" you made your way over to him placing your hands on his chest. Your touch caused him to shiver but he has yet to look down at you. Instead he just takes the cigarette from his mouth and stomps on it when he was done with it.

You felt his body freeze underneath your touch.

" Is something wrong? Did something happened at work?" your eyebrows frowned together sliding your hands up around his neck to play with some of his curls. His blue iris eyes glance down at you and you see the uneasy look in his eyes. His lips are in a thin line and this worries you.

He's never this silent.

You take a hold of his hand that is covered in grease from work and interlace your fingers with his but all he does is look at you with those blue iris's of his.

" Fine" you sighed, taking your hand out from his and make your way to the door.

" Show me it" he finally says. His eyes are glossy and his voice was soft as a whisper as he talked. You frowned turning to look at him over your shoulder with one handle on the door.

" What?"

" I heard you and Robin" your eyes go wide and your hands become to shake. " Billy I-" he cuts you off, his tears are falling down his cheeks as he says it again.

" It's nothing" you mumble opening the door, it creaks again and slightly slams as you make your way inside. The door opens again and Billy follows you into the kitchen. You take the small box quickly hiding it in the cupboard behind the cereal but Billy sees it.

" Show me it Y/N" he pleads stepping closer to you with his hands on your hips. He feels you tense up when he touches you. He feel the anxiety coming off of you and watches as you trembling hands push the cereal to the side to take the small velvet box out.

You hold it in your finger turning it around feeling the softness on it. Billy is behind you watching you as play with the box and his heart is racing like never before.

You pop the box open and his mouth drops seeing the ring inside. It was beautiful, just something that Billy would wear. You turn to face him and eyes on his chest as you push the box into his hands. He gently takes the box and looks down at the ring shining back at him.

How much did you pay for his? Did you really want to do this? Why him?

He had so many questions running through your his mind, licking his dry lips as his hand shakes as he takes the ring out to inspect it. It makes his heart flutter a bit seeing the initials. You went over board with this ring but he was worth it, every dollar and every cent.

You watch his blue iris go wide as he turns the ring in his hand with his fingers not saying anything. Honestly you are scared and ready to bolt out the door. Your heart is in your throat when his eyes meet yours.

" Y/N" he starts to say, his blue iris are brimmed with tears and his eyes are puffy from crying. He closes his eyes tight feeling his breathe pick up and he feels like everything is spinning.

" Breathe" you put your hand on his shoulder. " Breathe with me" your fingers run through his golden curls, moving them away from his eyes and then when he opens his eyes, that's when you see the sadness in them.

" Billy" the way you called out his name with sadness and a bit of hurt like you knew what he was going to say. You watch as he places the ring back into the box and closes it as he puts it on the counter. His eyes are locked on the box and he speaks, " We aren't ready for this Y/N. I'm not ready for this. I'm such a mess, and you don't deserve this mess. You don't want to be with this mess for the rest of your life, I can't give you what you want" he closes his eyes as more tears fall, his shoulders are shaking as he bows his head.

But he doesn't see the heart broken look on your face. Your own tears as they fall down your cheek and the way you stepped back from him.

How could you be so stupid thinking this is what he wanted?

" I mean nothing to you" you say. Those words cut a knife into his heart and his head snaps up, he clenches his jaw.

" Stop that. You mean a whole lot more than you think" you shake your head. " I've been with you through everything, you are my everything Billy Hargrove. I like you the way you are, no. I love you the way you are. You're my mess and I wouldn't change it for the world"

The thing though was Billy has never told you he loved you. He has done things to show you he does, little things here and there and sometimes he would trace the words on your arm. It was his way of telling you he loves you.

" I'm not ready for this type of commitment Y/N" he shakes his head, turning around. His back is to you. You wrap your arms around yourself taking a step back. Away from the kitchen. Your heart is in two, your sniffles makes Billy shed more tears. He never wanted to hurt you but here is was breaking his own heart along with yours.

His body turns around when he hears you run, run away from him. He watches as you open the front door letting the gust of wind hit him in the face making him shiver. He wrap his arms around himself watching your sobs come from you as you headed down the street.

" Y/N! Y/N!" He runs to the open door, running out of the front of the door holding onto the front door as he yells, gripping it.

" I LOVE YOU" you can barely hear him through your own tears as you picked up your feet knowing one place you needed to go. You needed your best friend. You had no idea how long it took but you made it feeling the ache in your side falling to your knees ringing her doorbell.

In minutes the door opens and Robin stands there with a worried look on her face. Her own heart breaks seeing you on her front door step, she kneels down next to you.

" What happened?" you collapse in her arms, sobbing into her shoulder. " He doesn't love me, he doesn't want me" you said through your tears. Robin hugs you tight as she holds you outside of her front door. You two stay like that for while.

-

It's been weeks since everything had happened and both you and Billy aren't the same as you used to be. You still worked at the diner every day, even over time if you had to. You stayed at Robin's, she had her own place and Steve was her roommate. They both didn't mind that you stayed, feeling like you needed them around more than ever.

Billy on the other hand, he was a mess and only focusing on work. But what stood out to people was the ring around his neck. The very ring you were going to propose to him. He had put it on another necklace and it hung on his chest. He would get asked where he got it from and he would tell him that a pretty girl heart he broke, gave it to him.

He would take the ring in his fingers and rub over your initials from time to time, missing you. His mind would occupy with your memories you made with him. He remembers how you stood up to Neil for him, how much you loved spending time with his step sister Max, how you were by his side after the whole Mind Flyer happening and he survived.

He remembers how you tried to fit into his crowd in high school to impress him and how you weren't one of those girls that gawked at him. You were different and he went after you, he made you laugh, he made you smile, you made him soft and he shared his feelings with you, you were patient with him, you two barely fought until that day.

Billy was working on a car underneath the hood when he heard a voice he wished his didn't.

" Hargrove!" Billy stood up turning to face not the most fascinating person he liked, but he had to because they were your friend.

" Harrington" he groans facing him. " What do you want?" Robin is behind Steve but her breath hitches when she's sees the ring on the necklace around his neck.

" You need to stop doing this and moping around. You're boss told us how you sleep here sometimes, how you drink your memories away, how you don't talk to anyone and frankly I don't care but I care about Y/N, you two have been through a lot. She has been there for you every minute of the day, she stood by your side and yet you don't want her to marry you? She thinks your special and blah blah blah" Steve says rolling his eyes and hunches over when Robin smacks him in the stomach.

" what he's trying to say is, you both need each other and I know you love her. You wouldn't be wearing the ring she wanted to propose to you around your neck" Billy glances down at the ring and back at her.

" She's better off without me" Billy mutters turning around to continue to work when he felt a smack on the back of his head. He glares down seeing Robin shaking her head.

" She isn't, she loves you and she needs you as much as you need her"

" Just get her back, man" Steve says. Billy looks from Robin to Steve, he runs a hand down his face. He has missed you all these weeks that you weren't by his side.

He didn't come home to see you dancing in the living room, he didn't get a good morning kiss or a good night kiss, he didn't have anyone to shower with anymore, he didn't have anyone to care for his wounds if he got hurt at work, he didn't have anyone to pull with his hair, he didn't have anyone to laugh or smile with, he didn't have anyone to have dinner with or see them on lunch break, he didn't have anyone in his passenger seat playing with his radio in his car, he didn't have you and he wanted you.

" Go" Robin pushed him, " but you need this before you go" she hands him a rag to clean his hands with. He chuckles taking it and he was off shouting to his boss it was an emergency when his boss already knew where he was going.

" Kids in love" he mutters seeing Billy get into his car and drive off.

-

You were cleaning up the tables, and it was close to closing time. The last customer has left for the day. You sighed taking the tip he has left you and it was barely at tip. You didn't even notice the door open as you hummed cleaning the table.

Billy walked through the diner and when his eyes set on you, he smiled. You still looked the same just had bag underneath your eyes. You still looked perfect as you were to him all the times he looked at you.

" Hi" he finally speaks and he watches as your body freezes at the sound of his voice. There is no more humming and no more cleaning, your hand pauses on the table. It couldn't be him, you thought shaking your head.

" Y/N" he calls out your name and this time you raise your head to look at him. His golden curls are perfect on his head as ever, his blue iris are locked with yours. They are glossy. His lips are in a small smile. He is wearing a white tank top with some jeans but that's not what catches your eye. It's the ring around his neck that does.

" Why are you wearing that?" you question pointing to the necklace. He glances down, taking the ring in his hand.

" Because I was an asshole and this was the last memory I have of you. It's like a piece of you is still with me"

Your heart melts at his words.

" Billy" he shakes his head. " Let me talk" you nodded waiting for him to speak.

" When you ran that night, you took my heart with you. I was an asshole for telling you that I didn't want to marry you, when I did. I was so scared, marriage is a big thing and I felt like I wasn't good enough to be your husband. Hell, I could not tell you even that I love you. When, doll I love you. Every laugh. Every smile. Every corny joke. Every roll eye. Every scoff. Every tease. Every kiss. Every touch. Every chance I held you. Every time you looked at me. I love you through all those time" he takes a step forward towards you.

" When I saw you in high school, I knew from that moment you told me to piss off and pushed me away. That I wanted you, I wanted to chase you and have you as mine. When I saw you at Tommy H's party and you walked through the doors, I didn't want anyone to dance with you or to touch you because when our eyes locked, I knew you were mine. When you finally agreed to go on a date with me, you had the shyest smile ever. It was really cute, and the way you giggled made my heart race. Every time I look at you, my heart races and I fall in love with you again and again."

He takes another step.

" You're the best decision I ever made, you being mine and I want that forever with you" he confesses. The rag in your hand is no longer in your hand but at your feet and your eyes are tearing up at his words.

" Say it" his eyebrows frowned together.

" Tell the girl you want to marry her and you love her. Jeez" Benny says he was watching you two.

" You can go home, Benny. I'll lock up" he mumbles something but does what you say. You look up at Billy as he's now in front of you.

" I want the forever you want" he puts his forehead against yours. You search his eyes for any lie but there is love and happiness there. He is holding onto hope that he has you back.

" Say it Billy Hargrove, say it. I need to hear it"

" I love you, Y/N. Mrs. Future Hargrove. I want to marry you, I want you to be the mother of my child and I want you, only you by my side for the rest of my life" he confesses more than he thought. It scared him but he knew it would be okay.

" I love you too, but you should shut up and kiss me"

He does just that and at the window Robin and Steve are watching, " high five?" Steve asks. Robin rolls her eyes, " Shut up, Steve" she awes as you and Billy kiss.

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Worth a Thousand Words

Eddie Munson x gn!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Eddie reflects on the pictures of you over the years

Word Count: ~2.7k

Warnings: Just fluff. I believe this can be read as gn reader (please let me know if I'm wrong), but just as a heads up, the reader is described as more feminine (being beautiful and wearing a dress, etc.)

A/N: First time writing from Eddie's pov (ish), and I loved it. I'm a sucker for head-over-heels men, so this was very heartwarming and fun to write. As always, reblogs and comments are wonderful — I love hearing your thoughts!! Thank you for reading <3

--

The first picture Eddie had of you was a school photo. Lame, he knew. But it made him smile hard enough even thinking about it: the Hellfire Club photo of the whole group. 

In between him and Dustin stood you. Being friends with Nancy, you had plenty of contact with Mike over the years, meaning you had contact with his friends and their wild D&D conversations, eventually leaving you intrigued enough to join in on a session here and there when Nancy was drowning in newspaper work.

Eddie had never been so thankful for Mike in his life. Before anyone knew it, the flash went off, signing into memory your wide smile and bright eyes — one arm slung around Dustin’s neck but your body leaning toward Eddie’s. And he knew you’d done it because he leaned first, trying not to focus too much on the way your arm touched his but unable to keep himself from leaning anyway. 

Other people always tried to demonize the group, throwing that photo in his face, but every time he saw it, his eyes only went to you wearing that shirt and grin. And there’s no way it could be bad if it made you look that heavenly. 

—

The next photo he had of you was actually a series of pictures. Eddie, Nancy, Robin, and you all dressed up in your graduation gowns and caps, holding diplomas and each other. Steve even peeked in a couple as support, especially with how much he helped Robin through her math class (or tried to anyway) during their shifts together.

Some of them didn’t come out as well, squinted eyes in the late spring sun or uncontained giggles distracting someone else in each take. In one, your face scrunched up as you batted away Eddie’s hair flying into your mouth, eyes, and everything it could touch. Though a secret favorite of his was the one of you screaming as a bee came near, your body running into Steve’s to escape. It was all chaos and left Eddie laughing looking at it. You’d wanted him to get rid of it. He just hid it instead.

But his favorite of the bunch was all five of you. No one was really looking at the camera. Steve looked to be in the middle of fixing his hair and batting away Robin when she tried to help. Nancy stood in the middle, her eyes beginning to roll but a genuine smile still unable to leave her face. Eddie looked off to the side, always leaning into you, as he made some joke he couldn’t remember now. Not that it mattered, it was just to get you to laugh, like most of what he said. And you did. 

But you… you shined as bright as the sun beaming down on them, toothy grin and all as you giggled at whatever stupid thing Eddie had said. You barely could keep your eyes from shutting as a hand came down to hold your laughing belly, but you kept them open, determined to. They looked at Eddie, not trying to miss a second of him on this day. That one he had hung up in his room, right by his bed.

—

The next picture was another group picture — he often chided himself for not getting more photos of you earlier, but he hadn’t grown the balls to do it for a while after meeting you. Still, he was grateful to somehow capture you in this memory forever.

Nancy had actually taken it. You’d convinced her to come to The Hideout to see Corroded Coffin play, insisting that she could do a story on them with The Hawkins Post, as the band had been gaining more popularity lately. 

The bar was dark, the only real lights coming from the small stage. It illuminated the band, catching the wispy frizz of Eddie’s hair as he played his guitar, his baby. Maybe his eyes should have been on his fingers or paying attention to the other members of Corroded Coffin, but no. He looked to the crowd. 

In the moment, he hadn’t noticed Nancy snapping the picture. He hadn’t noticed anyone but you. It wasn’t in the photo — just the back of your head and arms raised high in the air — but he’d be damned if he forgot the way you looked at him. Until then, he’d occasionally catch you staring at him while performing, loving the way you turned your head or hid the blush rising to your cheeks. But this time, you refused to look away, swaying with the music and having a permanent smile to give to him with hands outstretched.

And Nancy did write the story, using that picture for it. You had run over to his place, newspaper in hand, and excitedly showed it to him. You hadn’t seen that you were also in the photo, but he did. Of course he did. He kept the paper, especially after your insisting to cut it out and frame it for when he was famous. But he kept it for other reasons.

–

The first photo Eddie ever took of you was just you, no one else. It was the one he kept in his wallet. It’d been behind his driver’s license, still too scared to admit his feelings just yet, but there was no way he’d go somewhere without you by his side.

You had gone to Robin’s birthday party, one where she requested everyone dress up. As she’d explained it, all in her fast and excited tone, “We’re finally adults, with adult money! C’mon, for me?”

And there was no way any of you were resisting her pleas, not with those puppy dog eyes. Eddie offered to drive the two of you there, him coming by your apartment with a new car that barely worked better than his old van. It nearly felt like prom, if he had ever bothered to go. He waited in the lobby after buzzing your apartment, his palms sweaty and chest pounding like this was a date. 

He’d pulled his hair back, cursing at the mirror when trying to tame it, and even tried dressing up. He still kept his dark jeans and jacket, but he’d found a wrinkled button-up deep in his closet to have on under. Wayne had just shaken his head when Eddie had called about how to smooth it out. Certain the boy didn’t have an iron, he just told him to hang it up in the bathroom while running a hot shower. A chuckle rolled from his mouth when Eddie hung up with a hurried thanks, and Wayne spent the night wondering who had got him worked up like this.

And Eddie looked as good as he was going to, because maybe this was a date. God, how he wanted it to be a date, and he probably would’ve been speechless to hear you wishing the same thing in your own head as you made your way down. 

You’d paid extra attention when getting ready, knowing Eddie was at the bottom of those stairs. The red dress Nancy had convinced you to buy for a special night now hung off your shoulders. You also knew he wasn’t the type to judge like that, but your nervous pacing had turned to nervously fixing your appearance this way and that, straightening out your dress until you were sure you’d be making it worse if you touched it any more.

Eddie hated himself when you breathed out a kind, “Hi” as you walked through the lobby door. He just stared and stared, willing his mouth to say something, but nothing seemed quite worthy enough for you to hear. And that sounded corny in his head too, but the way your face looked so soft did nothing to prove him wrong.

Maybe it had been a date. You’d stuck to his side most of the night, unable to stop looking at the way a few strands of hair had come out and curled around his face or how his arms looked when he shrugged off his jacket in the hot living room. Even finding him when dancing with Robin and Nancy or laughing at Steve’s terrible moves. 

Eddie should’ve taken a picture of you out there, but his mind was too focused on finding the right balance between staring at you and looking away so it wasn’t obvious. By the number of times the two of you made eye contact, he knew he’d been way off, but he couldn’t stop watching you.

Before, in your apartment lobby, he’d seen your tense shoulders, your hands clasped tight around each other (praying it was because you were just as nervous as he was), but now, you looked so carefree. Your body moved to the music, and if he weren’t so scared, he would’ve joined you, his fingers itching to wrap around your hips. Even Steve came by at some point to tell him he should get his butt over there, but he couldn’t.

It was when you came back, taking deep breaths and a large gulp of cold water, that he thought to take a picture. You had returned to him. After looking as happy as you had, you still came back to him. He picked up one of the couple disposable cameras Robin had set out for guests. As soon as you saw what he was doing, you hurried to fix anything gone askew while dancing, though he wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful regardless.

And you did. Though the photo could never do you justice, it captured the curve of your shoulders and the skin dipping beneath the dress that fit just right, though he thought the same of anything you wore. Your face glowed, like you were meant to be here, with him. And he hadn’t noticed it immediately, not until months later after he’d made Robin give him a copy after she developed the photos, but he could swear that your eyes weren’t at the camera, but just above. Maybe it just showed your mind was elsewhere altogether. But you knew you weren’t looking at the camera, but at Eddie. Always.

–

After that, you left. 

Only after having one picture he’d taken of you, you were gone, and he didn’t take any more for a few years. You’d gone off to college out of state while Eddie stayed back in Indiana. The two of you talked on the phone here and there and saw each other during breaks, but he found himself staring at the few photos he had of you more and more often.

You sent a couple pictures through the mail to him, but he couldn’t look at those for long. Most showed you with multiple people, looking as happy as you had back here at home, and he couldn’t help the twisting feeling settle into his stomach. He had no right to be jealous of any of them, but he was. They had no idea how lucky they were to have you there every day. And Eddie should’ve realized that sooner.

–

Each time Eddie had a new photo of you, he declared it was his favorite. There was no way there’d be another he’d stare at for as long or make him miss you as much when you weren’t together. Yet, he was happy to be proven wrong each time.

After coming to accept how he felt, Eddie needed to fix this, deciding he had to do something the next time he saw you or bury the feelings forever. That summer, with a slightly new look but the same old smile, you came back to him. 

And Eddie had done it. He’d finally done it and asked you out. Eddie steeled himself for a laugh or disgust rather than the kindest look he’d ever seen when the question left his lips. And he declared a hundred new photos to be his new favorite, but there was always one.

He wanted to do every dorky thing couples did, every cheesy activity that would’ve made him roll his eyes before he met you. So when a nearby carnival had come to town, he took you there the first weekend you had free. And when a worker came up to you both with a polaroid camera, Eddie pulled you close, ready to pay whatever they asked for the photo.

Though the camera wouldn’t be able to show it, his heart swelled at feeling your body against his, the warmth of your palm resting on his chest. You squealed when seeing the picture, the sound enough for him to let you keep it. But you’d seen his face, a sad sort of happy, and pulled the worker back to take another just like the first. You reached into your wallet before Eddie could grab his and handed it to the worker, giving Eddie his own photo to keep.

There were slight differences between the two, but they looked similar — flashing lights and crowds moving behind a couple too enveloped in each other to care or notice. You loved the way his hand sat at your waist, the way his eyes lit up, his chin held high at having at his side. 

Busy staring down at the images, you hadn’t seen that Eddie wasn’t doing the same, not until you glanced up to find him already looking. Those lights passed across his dark eyes, leaving you entranced, or maybe it was just who he was. Before you could say something teasing, his lips pressed to yours, soft and like amnesia, making you forget about anything else besides him. Though the photos hadn’t captured it, Eddie still thought of the feeling of your mouth on his whenever he looked at it, wishing he could live in that moment forever.

But making new memories worked as a second option. After that, you had bought your own camera and filled the edges of your bathroom mirror with pictures of the two of you. Other summers, you might have spent the months at your parents’ house, but you loved spending nights at Eddie’s and waking up in his arms. When fall came around, you used to find it exciting before to return to your college life, but this year was harder, more painful.

The two of you existed between late-night calls and letters — and photos Eddie could stand now that you were his, and he was yours — and that was enough for him to make it through.

–

As with cheesy romantic gestures, Eddie hadn’t really believed in marriage either. “Why get the blood-sucking government involved in my love life?” he’d ask. But the way you spoke about your future with him and the way you looked at flowing wedding dresses in bridal shop windows, Eddie could feel himself finding you were once again the exception. 

Up until the day, his favorite photo of you, besides the bee one, was any of them that showed the cheap ring he didn’t feel good enough to even propose to you with — though, he couldn’t afford better and found himself getting antsy at the idea of waiting years and years until he could get to start his future with you. 

But of course, you wore it proudly in every photo since his proposal. And Eddie couldn’t help a rising emotion in his chest every time he looked at one of those pictures, knowing you were proud to tell the world you were together. 

—

And then, there you were. Right there with him. 

Eddie’s eyes gave slow blinks in the morning sunlight, the world still far away in his half-asleep state. Yet, he was aware of you. Always was. 

You laid on his chest, curled into his side still fast asleep. Your head rose and fell softly along with his dipping breaths, and his eyes found your form with a softness in his heart. 

He brought his arm down to wrap along your back, letting the early air wash over him. Over you, together, in your shared apartment. Looking around the room, he spotted in the cracked closet his shoebox of photos. 

Besides the pictures framed and hung up, he hadn’t looked at any of his favorites in months. Eddie still loved the memories, the easy moments captured in time, but he didn’t have to live through them anymore — didn’t have to wish he was in those moments or feel that terrible ache of you being gone. He glanced down as you stirred against him, catching your eyes as they fluttered open, making him smile. He had the real thing right here, and he couldn’t wait to make new memories with you.

[beautifulblooms]

I Bite My Tongue It's a Bad Habit - Steddie + Male!Reader

Male!Reader, he/him, trying angst for the first time, this is for a special friend @eddieverse because they helped give me such a lovely little idea for suffering, enjoy this bestie, btw I don't care if this is all time accurate or not cause this was just made to make people cry, and it seems I have succeeded

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

You Are the Bane of My Existence, and the Object of All My Attractions (Happy Ending)

I Bite My Tongue, It's a Bad Habit (Sad Ending)

Tags: @qthetherapist, @eddieverse, @alexs-playground, @rlmt1

I picked up my guitar and slowly began to pluck the chords to a song I had grown familiar with, humming the lyrics at first before fully singing along.

“I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me. I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me. What you, oooh, uh, what you do?” Images of the two of them hugging and kissing flooded my mind, why did he have to get Eddie, why couldn’t it have been me that got him? What did I do wrong to push him away? We’ve been friends for years, I’ve stuck by his side since 4th grade, I did everything right, so why didn’t he choose me?

“Is it too late to pursue? I bite my tongue it’s a bad habit, kinda mad that I didn’t take a stab at it.” It was almost pitiful how sad I was over this, they’d been together for a couple weeks and having to see it every day was only making me feel worse. Why couldn’t I be the one that gets to kiss him, hold him, run my hands through his hair, comfort him when he’s sad, be his anything.

“Never gave me the time of day, my dear. It’s okay, things happen for reasons that I think are sure, yeah.” I tried to ask him out a few times, he always said thank you for having a friends day out, hearing him call us friends hurt more than I thought it would. Especially now when I ask him on one and he says he can’t, he’s got a date with him.

“I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me.” I had committed so much time to him that I figured he would at least still care about me. In the last couple weeks he had slowly stopped hanging out with me bit by bit, stopped caring about if I showed up to school, stopped noticing me. I just wish he still cared about me even a little bit, or showed it at all.

“Say to me, please just say to me, if this could wind up. I wish you wouldn’t play with me, I wanna know, oh no.” God it hurt, tears were dripping onto my knees while I kept playing, voice beginning shake when I sang. I just wanted it to be me, I wanted so bad to be the one Eddie loved.

“Can I bite your tongue like my bad habit? Would you mind if I tried to make a pass at it?” I wanna be able to take a pass at him, kiss him, feel what it feels like to be Steve Fucking Harrington. The fuck boy of Hawkins high gets the Freak, why couldn’t the best friend of the freak get him?

“It’s okay, things happen for reasons that I can’t ignore, yeah.” I stopped strumming the guitar and just sang through sobs, my hands couldn’t stay still long enough to hold any notes. I just began to mumble the rest of the song to myself, sitting in my room, all lights but a nightstand lamp off, crying on the edge of my bed.

“You can’t surprise a Gemini, I’m everywhere, I’m cross-eyed, and now that you’re back, I can’t decide if I decide if you’re invited.” Fuck finishing the song, I just needed to leave, leave this fucking town, leave them to be who they want to be without me. I couldn’t even think of what I was doing anymore, barely saw what I grabbed, just throwing whatever clothes I could into a random bag. I snatched the car keys off my dresser, grabbing the bag and almost running down the stairs. The front door was already unlocked, guess I forgot to lock it when I got home earlier, it didn’t matter now. Rain poured down outside, I just sprinted through it to my car in the driveway, hopping in the drivers seat and tossing whatever bag I grabbed into the back seat. I’m sure I grabbed my wallet so I had at least 60 bucks to do whatever I wanted. Pulling out of the driveway I floored the gas pedal, getting out of this fucking town was the only thing I needed to do, and as I passed the leaving Hawkins sign I heard the familiar tune ringing in the back of my mind. I wish I knew, I wish I knew you wanted me…..

[paperbackribs]

The Gift (10 of 15) (Witch Steve AU)

previous: Chapter 9 Nothing, But Not a Negative next: Chapter 11 Midnight Movie (NSFW) Content: steddie fic, 3.8K words, general rating: E, CW: Ableist language is used as a slur against Steve.

Last chapter, Steve confessed his new feelings for Eddie to Robin and, together, they found a musical connection to the film Sabrina in the song La Vie En Rose. This chapter, Steve picks up the kids from Hellfire while an old enemy intrudes.

Chapter 10 Relearning to Stand

Steve leans against his maroon bimmer, feeling like an idiot. How does a guy forget how to stand? Just hips against the steel of the car door, right? But he’s convinced he looks stiff and unnatural, and Eddie’s going to come through the school doors and immediately clock that Steve is being weird.

He’s going to know that Steve is having thoughts that he shouldn’t and, somehow, through some terrible, unnatural coincidence will figure out that Steve can see through his new hazel eye, that’s Steve’s a gross voyeur, and that he never wants to talk to Steve again.

Because he can’t lean against the damned car properly.

He groans looking out at the wide cement parking lot by the red-bricked Hawkins High building. It’s not yet dark, the air still warm with the blue of the sky giving way to streaks of pink and orange. But they try to end Hellfire a little earlier these days. Post ravenous, town-mob and all.

Parked beyond Eddie’s white van, at the edge of the lot, is a brown station wagon with a small group of people chatting by it and, other than a couple of other teens by the building, there’s no one else here to witness Steve fidgeting as he works out how to master the basics of positioning his body like an adult man.

He learnt to crawl backwards first, after all, Steve thinks caustically.

In a burst of sound that Steve feels he’d recognise even if he were wholly sightless, the junior Hellfire club members exit the school. Mike leads the way, pushing the double doors open in one go as if he’s showing off. Seeing his glance towards Will, Steve thinks that maybe he is.

A horrifying feeling of cold dread rushes through his body: is he as obvious as Mike?

No, Mike is a dramatic little shit. Steve is level-headed in comparison.

Will, Lucas, and Dustin follow behind Mike with Eddie and Erica bringing up the rear. The latter seemingly educates Eddie in some matter or other while the older boy nods solemnly before looking up and seeing Steve. His face lights up and he raises his hand in greeting.

Steve quickly straightens at Eddie's attention even as he smiles back reflexively, but his abrupt movement causes him to unexpectedly fall off balance. He pushes a hand against the car, pretending to have done it on purpose. To no one’s belief apparently since the first thing Dustin does is frown with concern as he approaches.

“Are you okay, Steve? Is it your eye?”

As much as some people avoid looking at Steve directly now, there is something refreshing about the party’s easy willingness to address the (white) elephant in the room. Steve reminds himself of this even as he’s exasperated that a stumble has Dustin suddenly diagnosing him with fatal clumsiness by virtue of some small amount of impaired vision.

“I’m fine, butthead. Get in.” He shoves the boy towards the car, pushing him by the curls at the top of his head. Dustin automatically bats at him even as he willingly moves under Steve's casually commanding hand.

Steve turns back just as Eddie reaches him, wide mouth stretching into a welcoming grin. “Stevie,” he begins.

“Hey, murderer!”

The party as a group stiffens, bristling as Jason Carver approaches them. He’d walked in from Steve’s blind side and Steve hadn’t even felt him coming since the angry jock had his attention firmly set on Eddie. Jason has his head down near his shoulders while he storms forward, as if ready to tackle Eddie right here in the parking lot.

It wouldn’t be the first time a fight’s broken out in the Hawkins lot, Steve grimly thinks. But, as he checks the near-empty area, he’s surprised to find that Jason’s alone; he figured his teammates would be by his side.

When quietly telling them about Jason's hunt for Eddie during the latest Upside Down episode, Lucas had shared Patrick and Andy's contributions as they followed close behind their team captain. Patrick may be dead now, the third victim of Vecna's murderous spree, but Andy should be here at the very least, let alone the other members of the basketball team that undoubtedly still follow Jason's lead.

Eddie’s face, which had tensed, now smooths out into a terrifyingly blank expression. “Can’t you think of something more original, Carver,” he drawls.

“Oh, I think that I’ll stick with the truth, murderer. You think you’ve gotten away with killing Chrissy, but you’ll get yours,” Jason's tone is as venomous as the harsh expression on his face.

Steve is unnervingly reminded of Max describing the maliciousness of Vecna's hallucinations, the manipulations that swayed her because the speaker spoke as if carrying the whole truth of the world in their words. He doesn't believe a damned thing that Jason Carver will ever say, but he worries about its effect on others. On people surrounding Eddie. On Eddie himself.

Eddie’s slightly in front of Steve, so he sees his shoulders tighten even further, but he only calmly replies, “Whatever you want to think, Carver. I didn’t do anything, and Hawkins PD happens to agree with me.” He leans in to say with a quiet deadliness, “You were there, you should know better.”

Jason shakes as if he can’t help himself at the memory. Steve had never seen Chrissy, Patrick or Fred's violent and unnatural deaths, but he thinks of Eddie releasing a shuddering breath as he described watching Chrissy crack and he pushes himself forward, stepping in front of Eddie.

“That’s enough. Get going, Jason, there’s nothing here for you.” Steve tries to square his body enough that the others could be forgotten behind him.

One long finger points at him, ragged nail right in his face, Steve notes with annoyance. Jason spits, “Satan is the great blinder; of the mind, of the spirit, and he leaves his mark on his faithful.”

Steve rolls his visible eye, further annoyed that the full effect is probably lessened from the white of the other. “That doesn’t even make sense. I worship the devil, so he takes my sight? How many basketballs have you taken to the head?”

“Better than being a cripple,” Jason maliciously hisses.

Before Steve even has a moment to process the slur, a rush of black leather and brown hair flies past Steve to fiercely push Jason backwards. The jock is so surprised that he trips and stumbles back to fall on his ass, staring open-mouthed at a glowering Eddie.

Steve forgets processing his reaction in favour of stifling a laugh at Jason’s stupid, shocked face.

“You want to try saying that again, asshole,” Eddie growls, his voice inexplicably deep and threatening. The metal persona that Steve usually thinks of as a simple aesthetic and social armour abruptly seems palpable, hostility radiating from the man in front of him like it will become sharp edges that Jason will find himself cleft and serrated against.

Almost open mouthed himself and left speechless by Eddie's reaction, Steve further realises that Eddie is not simply posturing when the other boy purposefully steps closer to the fallen jock, blazing eyes fixated on his quarry while he casually cracks his knuckles in anticipation of using his fists.

Steve not seen Eddie this mad, ever. For a moment, a part of him is stupidly attracted to the dark violence Eddie seems capable of unleashing. Made all the more hotter from the restraint that he usually exercises.

He looks at Eddie's glowering face and thinks that he'd like to trace the lines now bracketing his mouth or, perhaps, just stick his tongue down his throat and call it a day. But Dustin makes a surprised sound and the smarter version of Steve, the one aware of the proximity of the kids, kicks in. Hurriedly, he wraps a restraining hand around Eddie’s wrist, who immediately tries to tug out of his tight grip.

“Eddie,” Steve says soothingly, willing the other boy to calm down. He doesn't want Eddie to get in trouble for inciting violence against one of the supposed golden boys. Not over a stupid comment from someone who has as much weight of an opinion with Steve as a dying cockroach.

Jason scuttles back as Eddie tugs again, though it seems halfhearted after Steve's gentle urging. Nevertheless, the movement has Jason's eyes widening in fear and Steve sombrely wonders at how much shit Eddie has been taking from these Bible thumpers that Jason hadn’t thought he would fight back.

Eddie pauses, taking an audible breath before leaning in closer to Steve. Their shoulders subtly touch to create a wall of solidarity against Jason, the brick of Hawkins High a bleak backdrop framing its cowering basketball captain. “Get out of here, Carver. No one cares what you think. Didn’t Chief Hopper tell your mommy and daddy what would happen to you if you continued to harass us?”

Jason pales slightly as he pushes himself up, brushing off the knees of his jeans if to give a sense of nonchalance. Yet his fingers tremble as he shoves them into his green and white varsity jacket and the threat must land because he sneers a “whatever” before turning on his heel and stomping off. His receding back small and inadequate against the falling evening sky.

Steve looks around the empty parking lot, frowning in confusion as he asks, “Where are his lackeys?”

“Nancy’s masterminded a rumour through the news club and the cheerleaders,” Erica’s voice comes from behind Steve.

When he looks back at her, she too has paled and is gripping her elbows as if to keep herself steady. He's reminded of the distant look on her face when she'd shared about being chased down by Andy at the front of the Creel house. The thin thread of her voice as she described being hunted and wrestled to the ground by the large athlete.

Lucas steps up behind her to hug her to his side. An expression of gratitude runs through her before she continues, dark eyes heating. “It’s funny, hey. That Chrissy’s boyfriend is so keen to pin her death on someone who never even knew her. Even after one of his close, personal friends was murdered right ‘next’ to him. Yet somehow, the cops never thought to question the guy calling for more violence through a wild mob.”

Erica looks less scared and more vindictive the further she explains, “And isn’t it scary how Chrissy was sad a lot before it all happened? How she had told the cheer squad that she needed some space from her boyfriend.”

Dustin cocks his head. “Wait, is this what you girls and Will have been doing?”

Erica sniffs, “That and our hair, cowpuncher. Sometimes a woman just needs a little civilisation.” Steve’s pretty sure she’s quoting Nancy at the end there; he remembers her saying something similar when she’d ditched him once for Barb, minus the insult.

“That’s pretty clever,” Mike says in admiration.

“Just stating the facts,” Erica bares her teeth in a semblance of a grin. Steve’s glad to see the fight returning to her, wishing he could have done more to ease that tense expression on her face as Jason left them.

He looks over his shoulder to check on Eddie, but he’s got his head turned slightly, absently looking out to the trees beyond the school. “Eddie?” Steve calls out, sliding his hand up to his shoulder to give him a little shake. Not liking how still and quiet he is.

Eddie remains still for a half second before turning back to the group. If it weren’t for the slight tightness of his eyes, Steve might have thought he’d shrugged off the encounter. “Time to go, little lambs.” He turns to Steve, jester's smile firmly in place. “I’ll leave them to you, Sir Steven the Brave,” he waves an extravagant hand before turning to stride over to his van.

Steve quickly looks over his shoulder to see the kids starting to argue over shotgun and leaves them to jog over before Eddie leaves. He’s already in the van, unlit cigarette waiting between clenched teeth, and inserting the key in the few seconds it’d taken Steve to reach him.

“Eddie, wait!”

Eddie pulls the slim stick from his mouth before wearily glancing through the open window. “What is it, Steve? I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to a nice, quiet joint and some nice, loud music. I don’t think it’ll be your scene.”

Since he hasn’t been able to stand getting high after being beaten and injected with mind-altering drugs by Russians, Steve is inclined to agree. But he doesn’t want Eddie to leave, alone, with the weight of Jason’s accusations on his shoulders.

He digs into his back jean's pocket and pulls out a light blue sachet that Steve had folded and sewn together using a soft cotton handkerchief. He doesn't point it out, but he thinks his neat stiches may rival the ones he had once inspected on Eddie's vest. He remembers sitting on his mothers settee, still grimy from their week traipsing in and out of the Upside Down but needing to take a moment in his relief that they had all made it out alive. That Eddie was awake and okay in the hospital.

He had finally pulled off the rough denim of Eddie's vest from his aching torso and stared down at the clothing that had come to feel like its own Witch's talisman: an act of compassion becoming a type of adventurer's companion, staying with him through thick and thin. Possibly even protecting his open wounds from the toxic world that they were exposed to: even from people without an ounce of power, gestures and intent can develop into a powerful shield.

He'd traced the practised stitches around the Dio patch, similar to the precision Steve has after a lifetime of creating his own talismans, and wondered what else he and Eddie may have in common.

Now, he shoves the small charm into Eddie's hand resting on the steering wheel, not letting him say no. “Here,” he says.

Eddie looks at him, bewildered, before bringing the sachet up to his nose. “It smells good,” he says in surprise.

“It’s got a little lavender and chamomile to soothe the mind, lemon balm for relaxation, and some passionflower to help you sleep.” Steve knows that Eddie’s not quite right yet when he passes on the opportunity to make a crack about passion in the bedroom. Yet, the other boy still has a small smile on his lips as he draws the blue pouch down.

“Thanks, Stevie.”

“Give me a minute,” Steve grins, “you haven’t seen the best part.” He glances around quickly; the kids are still talking over each other and everyone else seems to have left the parking lot.

He leans through the window and holds his finger up pointedly to make sure Eddie follows as he lightly touches the material.

A pearly white glow starts from the centre of the pouch, just a little circle until it pulses once, then twice before spreading like molasses, slowly transforming the blue cotton into a light ivory gold. A brief movement obscures its corner before revealing a small, silver etched chalice.

Eddie gasps, his eyes flicking to Steve like he’s trying to verify that what he is seeing is real. Steve nods, his grin deepening at Eddie’s reaction. This is just as fun as showing Robin that he was telling the truth by lighting candles without matches.

“Just a little magic, for you.” Steve mischievously waggles his eyebrows, happy to see Eddie’s eyes crinkle back in amusement. “But that will activate it, you should sleep just fine now.”

Eddie looks back down at the no-longer glowing pouch, but regarding it like it still pulses with Steve’s magic. “I think, Stevie, that you never cease to amaze me. It’s always something with you.”

Steve laughs bashfully, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Us Witches are pretty amazing.”

Eddie bites down on his lip, “Yeah, that’s right.” His mouth curves upwards in a coy smile before he looks away to the front of the van, abruptly clearing his throat and turning the key that had been waiting in the ignition. A softly wailing guitar sounds out of the stereo, accompanied by a man singing of dreams and strange changes.

“Eddie,” Steve beams, elated at having caught the metalhead with such a slow tempo song, "is that a love ballad?"

Eddie rolls his eyes, leaning over to fast forward the tape. He pops the stop button as he lightheartedly scolds Steve, “I contain multitudes, my sorcerous sovereign. Anyway, Van Halen is as metal as it gets.”

He winks at Steve, "Perhaps I'm the one that needs to give you a mixtape." Steve feels his cheeks warm slightly at the implication of Eddie giving him a gift associated with romantic intentions even as Eddie blithely continues, "Have to refine that pop taste somehow."

The engine starts and Eddie says his goodbyes before peeling out of the parking lot, now accompanied by pounding drums and pulsing guitars that thunder through his open windows. Steve stares after the van for a moment, Eddie’s smile lingering in his thoughts before Dustin’s voice pierces the air.

“Steve! Get a move on!”

Now that he isn’t distracted by Eddie, Steve realises that his count of the kids is off. He’s got one too many, he points out to the group still milling around the outside of his car.

Mike immediately tattles, “Lucas and Erica were supposed to get picked up by their mom.”

“She had a meeting and said that unless it was her or Steve driving us then I wasn’t allowed to go,” Erica rebuts.

“Okay,” Steve starts slowly, turning to the other boys. “Then why didn’t you organise someone else?”

Mike just shrugs and Dustin begins digging into his backpack, clearly not caring about this particular issue as he unearths a 3 Musketeers chocolate bar, unwraps it and bites with relish.

“Right. Well, it’s illegal, but we’ve done worse. Erica, you sit on Lucas’s lap in the back and that should fit you all.”

“What? Ew, no,” Erica protests.

“Then Dustin’s,” Steve negotiates.

“No, that’s grosser.” They both ignore Dustin’s obligatory squawk of protest. “Make one of the boys sit together. Actually...” She continues, with a sharp twinkle in her eye. “Dustin, you clearly called dibs and I respect the code. Lucas, you’re in the middle and Will, you sit on Mike.”

Will chokes, “What?”

“Come on, chop, chop.” Erica starts pushing Lucas’s back, who lets himself be manoeuvred with casual indifference.

Dustin doesn’t object since he's getting what he wants and, once settled, immediately starts to fiddle with the radio to find some music. Which leaves the two gangly teenagers eyeing each other warily outside the open car door. Steve shrugs and swings into the front seat, they’ll work it out.

Finally, he hears a huff before Will throws himself into the backseat instead and gestures for a red-faced Mike to sit down, who gingerly perches on Will’s knees, long form bent over, and hand stabilised against the roof.

Steve rubs at the bridge between his eyes, hoping to stave off a headache at the idiots he's committed to keeping on as family. Objectively, the boys' position is worse because Erica may have at least been petite enough to hide from any passing cops.

“Seat belts,” he snaps with an edge of irritation. He doesn’t want to get pulled over for too many passengers when he’s already had people question whether he can still safely drive.

Having found nothing to his liking on the local stations, Dustin pushes the play button on the cassette player to see what’s on in there. A melody of trumpets blare loudly, followed by a deep, rasping voice:

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose...

Dustin is hastily turning down the volume dial as Steve quickly reaches over to stop the tape. Their hands collide before Dustin sharply slaps him away. Steve squints at the road, deciding to concentrate on his driving; like a responsible babysitter, he maturely reminds himself.

“Who’s this?” Lucas leans in.

“Louis Armstrong,” Steve replies. He’d swung by Hawkin’s Records before his shift. They hadn’t had something as hoity-toity as Edith Piaf’s French version, which was the original sung in Sabrina. But Armstrong had made a cover that was featured in his greatest hits audio cassette. Steve had listened to it repeatedly in the parking lot until he’d had to go in to work.

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose...

“It’s nice,” Lucas says, folding his wiry arms over the front backrest to listen more closely.

“I’ll let you tape it some time,” Steve replies distractedly, thinking back to the confrontation in the parking lot.

“Is Jason always like that?”

“Yeah,” Lucas answers. “But the team doesn't join in anymore.”

“They used to,” Will calls out behind Mike’s shaggy black hair.

“Not anymore, though. And Eddie says to ignore it,” Dustin puts forward. “He says that they can bark like the little—" he cuts off, looking through the mirror at an unamused Erica, “dogs that they are. But that doesn’t mean squat when he’s free and they’re going to be sad jackasses for the rest of their lives.”

Steve can hear Eddie saying it already, but he doesn’t like that Eddie is shrugging this off when he had heard the venom in Jason’s voice.

Even if the jock had become toothless; no one, not even stoic Eddie, is going to have a peaceful life with that haunting him. He already has to live with having seen Chrissy and Patrick die. Then dying himself on top of it, Steve mentally adds to the tally. Eddie doesn’t need more on his plate.

A plate he’s not sharing with Steve. Eddie likes to take care of his problems by himself, Steve understands this, but he wishes the other boy would trust him enough to share the unpleasant stuff and not just about what films he likes to watch. To feel like Steve is someone in his corner.

It’s a process, Steve reminds himself as Lucas protests Dustin removing Armstrong’s cassette. Dustin passes the clear plastic case back with the song list and lyrics in apology, even as he pushes a new tape in. A gradual building of piano and guitar gains intensity as Freddie Mercury promises to work hard and pray right just for somebody to love. Mike and Dustin join in to sing along, loudly and badly.

After all, Eddie had trusted him enough to share about his family history and about those awful thoughts of worthlessness he’d had of himself. Steve had had to probe further to get Eddie to share about his feelings of dread at still living in the trailer, which Steve wouldn’t have thought to ask about unless he’d Seen that vision. But the important part is that Eddie had shared it at all, Steve reassures himself.

He can build on what they have and maybe, one day, Eddie will trust enough in Steve to allow him to take some of that weight off of Eddie’s shoulders.

If you liked anything, please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3 :-) It would make my day!

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[albentelisa]

Hello! What if when Jim used the Khronosphere, he somehow ends up on Camelot Castle with Nari instead of waking in his room?

To make matters worse, he is in his half-troll body and with some help from Nari, finds out he time traveled to a year before Kanjigar falls.

Hi! I really like plans-gone-wrong kind of scenarios!

So, here the time travel is screwed, misplacing Jim and accidentally giving him the body he had at some point in time. Even the burden of knowing about the different timeline is heavy and here Jim has it even worse as there is nearly no one he knows to be by his side and giving the comfort unknowingly.

Jim tells Nari his story (without expecting her to believe him) and surprisingly she believes as the Kronisfere is something only a selected few know about.

After discussing the matter with Nari, Jim decides to go to the Trollmarket and be the onlooker until the right time comes. He still has his new amulet and Excalibur for some reason, and Nari believes that it may help to bring the change.

The trolls at the Trollmarket initially have some mixed feelings about the newcomer, but Jim quickly wins their hearts. He becomes Blinky's assistant at his library. Jim doesn't reveal his amulet though as he isn't sure how trolls will react to it. He also hides his origin, inventing a fake backstory about being from New Jersey.

The first complication starts when Jim realizes that he has bonded with Kanjigar too much and simply cannot let him die now (not to mention that because of Jim's intervention, Draal and Kanjigar finally manage to talk and go back to normal father-son relationship).

Jim's plan ends up to be saving Kanjigar and becoming his helper while trying to make everything work. The thing is - it doesn't work as planned as Jim miscalculates the supposed date of Kanjigar's death (it happens a day earlier).

And there is another thing Jim hasn't considered (or more like deliberately omitted thinking about it) - namely, his own human life. There is only one Jim in this timeline, so from humans' point of view, Jim Lake disappeared a year ago.

Both Barbara and Toby are devastated, never giving up on finding Jim. Strickler is upset too, but unlike Toby and Barbara, he believes that Jim is dead (between Bular, other changelings, and goblins, there are too many possible suspects who love human flesh too much). Strickler meets Barbara when she comes to the school looking for clues. Initially, he helps her with the investigation out of concern that she might stumble upon the supernatural, but gradually falls for her. Barbara starts to have feelings for Walter too and feels guilty for finding her personal happiness while Jim is not around.

Toby, on the other hand, gets close to Eli and starts believing in creeps, suspecting that those might be the reason for Jim's disappearance. Toby tries to stay positive, but deep inside he wonders if his best friend is still alive.

Toby and Eli snoop around a lot. Steve tries to follow them one day for a nasty prank - and ends up learning about the supernatural stuff too. He's still mean to both Toby and Eli, but joins them in their investigation (he is a self-proclaimed leader).

Those investigations lead the boys to the location of Kanjigar's death and Toby picks up the amulet. When Jim discovers that, he is devastated (even though it was his initial plan to have Toby as the Trollhunter). Jim comes to Toby's house together with Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, hoping to be a secret helper.

Toby, however, finds out Jim's true identity really fast. Jim has no choice but to confess, though he omits the time travel part and tells Toby he has no idea why he transformed one day. For now, Toby promises to keep it secret, even though he thinks that Jim should at least tell his mom he's fine.

Eli and Steve become a part of the team early on as Toby kinda drifts away from their previous activities after becoming the Trollhunter and they start investigating why which leads to them discovering everything. Eli is obviously excited to learn more about 'creeps', but Steve is annoyed that he isn't the chosen one. He grows a better person only after getting into several troubles and being saved by Toby and Jim.

Ironically, Steve is the second one to learn Jim's true identity and the first one who finds out about Jim's amulet as Jim is forced to use it to save him. After this, Jim tells the entire truth to his team (which consists of Toby, Eli, Steve, Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, Draal, and Vendel by that point).

There's also an issue regarding the situation with Enrique and his potential kidnapping, and Jim patrols near Claire's house hoping to prevent it. However, he doesn't know that the switch has already happened in this timeline (as Strickler discovered Nomura's Snatch earlier and used it to get himself another subordinate). Claire also starts to notice oddities with her brother earlier, which leads her to discovery of changelings' existence. She lands herself in trouble as she has discovered Strickler's true identity, but as Strickler prefers not to have another misterious disappearance, he just manages to silence her with blackmail. Strickler also uses Claire to investigate who is the human Trollhunter as he himself has no idea.

Claire accidentally notices Jim who is roaming near her house. Initially, she thinks he's one of the bad guys (as she has no idea there are good trolls and assume that all of them are on the same side as NotEnrique and Strickler). That is how Jim learns that he's failed to prevent another one of events he would rather avoid and Claire realizes that not every troll is evil. She propose the alliance and suggests leaking info on Strickler to Jim's team. While Jim is slightly reluctant at first (not wanting to endanger her life needlessly), he remembers that Claire is competent and smart enough so her plan should work.

Claire, however, tries to go beyond her initial plan and ends captured. Strickler uses her as the bait to lure the Trollhunter. There's the clash between the two sides. Jim fights Strickler, but (obviously) refuse to kill him, so Strickler escapes. Meanwhile, the rest of the team deals with Bular and Nomura. Bular is killed, and Nomura is captured.

While Strickler is out of Arcadia, and the team is planing entering the Darklands to save Enrique, Jim decides to contact Douxie and recruit him to the team. Douxie agrees after learning about everything and starts to teach Claire.

Jim isn't that worried about Strickler most likely freeing Angor as his plan is to have a proper talk with his teacher and set everything straight. Besides, Jim is sure that Strickler won't do anything dumb like using the binding spell in this timeline (as he has no idea that the half-troll who defeated him is Jim).

However, Jim hasn't considered that Strickler feels cornered and rather paranoid because Gunmar won't be kind to him and he has no tight bonds with the current Trollhunter Toby. Strickler believes that he is on his own now - and there's nothing to lose, so he is even more hostile and manipulative than in the original timeline, but it also leads to more missteps - including Angor getting free on his own and Barbara discovering Walter's secret.

Angor is deadset on killing Strickler, and only Jim's involvement stops him. Angor agrees that now that he's free, he has no reason to act like a villain and leaves to sort his feelings. Strickler is indebted to Jim though he still has no idea why this odd youngling has saved him. Jim has no choice but to tell him everything in hope to earn his trust.

Barbara is another person who figures Jim's identity herself. Initially, she is seriously upset that her son hasn't come to her once the transformation happened, but she forgives Jim eventually.

Now, that everyone is together in this, there is some thorough planning regarding the mission to the Darklands. After all, Enrique isn't the only one they will save, but other familiars too. Besides, they plan to talk to Dictatious and make him remember how he used to be (Blinky already knows about the situation and had enough time to make peace in his mind with this fact).

Strickler contacts other members of the Janus Orders (those who he believes to be willing to change sides) and warns them that they will lose their familiars soon. However, he misgudges some and those find the way to contact Gunmar and warn him too. Obviously, Gunmar doesn't care about the changelings, but for him it looks like the perfect opportunity to escape. He also has an ally in Usurna - and it turns out that some trolls at the Trollmarket would rather pick Gunmar's side too.

So, when the team marches into the Darklands, there is a riot at the Trollmarket and Vendel is imprisoned. The Trollhunters seemingly meet no resistance at the Darklands (minus several Gumm-Gumms and goblins) and save the familiars, but can't locate Dictatitious (as he isn't there at the moment). After some thinking, they decide to go back for now and return for the second time (as everyone is sure they have been stealthy enough).

Meanwhile, Gunmar has passed through the bridge with a good chunk of his elite forces and is greeted by his supporters who have control over the Trollmarket. So, when the Trollhunters are back from the Darklands, they get a nasty surprise. They manage to escape only because Claire summons a shadow portal (it's the first one for her in this timeline as she has learned different magic from Douxie). The lack of practice shows here and Morgana gets a link to Claire's mind.

Jim knows that Morgana can be redeemed but feels conflicted when he sees that Claire goes through the events leading to her possession for the second time (it's something he would rather prevent). Not to mention that Angor isn't that willing to forgive Morgana.

Jim contacts Nari, hoping that she might have an idea how to help Claire, but Nari admits that shadowmancy is beyond her competence (actually, beyond everyone's but shadowmancers). Jim decides to propose Morgana to possess him instead as he thinks that he might have a better resistance (spoiler: he hasn't).

Morgana uses Jim's body to come and bargain to Gunmar, reminding him about their alliance.

Meanwhile, Claire and Toby with Angor's assistance go to the shadow dimension to save Jim. On their way, Claire has a fight with Morgana and barely manages to win due to some quick thinking. Toby, Claire and Angor reach Jim and manage to break him out of the possession.

The team decide to fight Gunmar before Morgana starts the Eternal Night. The clash happens at the Trollmarket (some former members of the Janus Order, trolls from different clans and some local wizards come to help too).

After the fight is won, Jim realizes that they still need to reach Merlin and think about the further actions against the Arcane Order. And well, when Merlin is awake and learns about the time-travel, he isn't happy as he thinks that messing with the time has already lead to some horrifying consequences. He also isn't happy to learn that Jim still hopes to free Morgana and refuses to cooperate (which change nothing as Claire steals his staff).

Jim tries to talk with Morgana for the second time after she is free, trying to appeal to her former ideas about co-existence and asking if she actually wants to have the world destroyed. It works this time.

The team also contacts Aja and Krel when they arrive to the Earth, finally reuniting with the rest of the guardians and forming the united front. Together, they have less trouble dealing with Morando and later, Green Knight. Nari sees it as an opportunity to talk to Bellroc and Skrael and appeal to their common sense as the times have changed and humans proved to be able to co-exist with inhuman beings. Bellroc and Skrael are still skeptical but agree to wait and see.

As the peace is reached, Claire joins efforts with Morgana in the attempt to find the solution for Jim (and to some extent all the changelings who changed sides) to change forms and be able to enjoy human life.

[dameronology]

the bitch song (eddie munson)

summary: you're mad at eddie, so he writes a song for you (low key the singer of bowling for soup kinda sounds like eddie singing)

warnings: language

hello i am back from the dead with a medicore fic. enjoy xx

tags: @karasong @alovesongshewrote

There weren’t many times that Eddie Munson felt the need to jump out a moving vehicle.

But with you sat beside him, scowling and pouting and arms folded tightly across your chest, he feared that the atmosphere might cause his poor brain to explode. It might not have been so bad had he not been the cause of your anguish, but no matter what angle he looked at it the plain facts of the situation were that he was, by all intents and purposes, the worst human being in the world. He didn’t mean to be. It was just that his ability to give any ounce of thought before he spoke was about as good as your ability to control your temper. Pair that with a long day, a few too many drinks and an unintentionally back-handed comment on his part?

That had been a week ago. And despite every attempt to try and make things better, he somehow kept digging himself a deeper and deeper hole. Even dragging you out to band practice tonight and goofing around with your friends hadn’t helped.

So, yeah. He was gonna jump out this fucking car. 

There was no lack of love between you and Eddie. It was there for all to see, as clear as day. Two kids who met in high-school and made the ugly transition to early adulthood together - that shit bonded you for life. Now you were navigating your early twenties together without a fucking clue in the world and the only comfort you ever found was within each other. Going into this whole thing blind -this being the real world with work and money and the pressure to be successful - was a little less scary with Eddie by your side. 

He kept his hands on the wheels, dark eyes ahead on the road as you kept huffing beside him. He wanted to say something, anything, but words were failing. Eddie was angry too - that was always his first line of defense - and anything he could say would just be fighting fire with fire. Your own gaze, meanwhile, was fixated on the window. Your refusal to look at him was slowly killing Eddie inside. 

Eddie’s van screeched to a halt outside the trailer. Wayne was still out of town for work - thank god - so neither of you felt the need to be quiet. Eddie had been teasing about that fact for a whole other reason earlier in the night, but now it simply stood for slamming doors instead of…well, other things. 

You were first out the car, kicking open the front door and throwing your keys onto the kitchen counter. Thump, thump, thump, slam! 

Boots across the ground and the bedroom door slamming, Eddie stood defeated into the middle of the living room. His chest ached a little at the thought of that he’d hurt you, but that didn’t help the anger subside. Why were you so quick to attack him? Couldn’t you realise he was a human too?

He let out a huff, realising that your temper and inability to tolerate bullshit was what had attracted him to you in the first place. He could remember it as clear as day: sophomore year, in Miss Jones’ English class. Steve Harrington had made a back-handed comment about your leather jacket and gotten a black eye in response. Even though the three of you were best friends now, Eddie thanked the heavens everyday for the moment he fell in love with you. 

“Babe!” he half-heartedly called out. “C’mon…can you come out…please? I really am sorry.”

“FUCK OFF, EDDIE!”

“I’m serious!” he took another step towards the door. “I think it’s better if we talk-”

“- I don’t want to talk to you!” you yelled back. “I don’t even want to look at you!”

“Can we just be mature about this?” Eddie continued. “And like, communicate or some shit?”

There was the fall of foot steps and a moment later, the door opened. Only slightly; just enough for you to peak your head around. Even then, it was still enough for him to see the look of disbelief on your features. He held hope for a second that you were feeling diplomatic. 

“You, Eddie Munson of all people, are telling me to grow up?” you snorted. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I!” he retorted. “I just…can you tell me what to say so I can make this better?”

“That’s now how fights work, Eddie,” you reminded him. “I can’t just tell you what to say when you’ve fucked up. There’s no cheat sheets for this shit.”

“Not even like…one flash card?”

(The joke was a bad idea).

“Grow up,” you huffed.

“I’m trying to communicate with you-”

���- well, I don’t want to talk!”

And with that, you slammed the door in his face.

–

Four more days passed, and Eddie still got nothing out of you. He’d always found your stubbornness to be an admirable trait but now he was staring in the barrel of its gun, it was a little less fun. Actually, nothing about this was fun. He just missed you more anything - he wanted things to go back to normal. Waking up without you beside him felt weird; driving without you next to him and talking to you 24/7 was weird. Existing without you was just plain fucking weird. 

That Tuesday, as usual, Eddie rocked up to the The Hideout to play with Corroded Coffin. Normally, you would have been with him - even though they’d played the same songs every week for the last seven years, you were always there to show your support. It was one of the things he loved most about you; the way you always showed up. For his gigs, for his D&D games, for every failed job interview and attempt at community college. He was the luckiest guy alive. There was no denying that. 

Eddie was weirdly nervous about playing without you. Maybe it was that there was some sort of comfort in knowing you were in the audience - kind of like a little kid looking for their parent in a school play. All the usual crowd was there, it seemed. Steve and whatever girl he had that week, Robin, Nancy, Chrissy and…you. 

Stood in the corner with your friends, a beer in one hand and a look on your face that inexplicably read I hate you right now but I wasn’t going to miss this. 

Shoving his guitar aside for a second, Eddie glanced over at Gareth. 

“We have to do the new song.”

He frowned. “Do you think it will help the situation?”

“It will either fix everything or make it expedentially worse,” Eddie replied. “Right now, that’s a bet I will take.”

With the rest of the band nodding in agreement, he gave them a big smile and turned back to the audience. His eyes met yours across the crowd and he gave you a small smile. Eddie had never been one for grand displays of affection but like he’d said: this could be the only thing that could fix things.

“Hi, everyone,” he gave them a small wave. “I know we normally open with Death Jam but uh, this is actually a new song. I wrote it for someone and…well, they’ll know when they know. I love you, babe.”

Eddie began to strum on his guitar, the other three joining in behind him on their own instruments. He kept eye contact with you the entire time, gaze not shifting from yours because who else would the song be about? 

“Is it okay if I speak with you today? You’ve been pissed off for a week now, but nothing I can say will make you look up, or crack up…”

You sat up further in your seat as he sung. A shit eating grin made it’s way onto Eddie’s face when he saw your reaction - that’s all he’d wanted. A reaction. Something more than the silent treatment. He was literally aching for it at this point. 

“You’re a bitch but I love you anyways,” he sang with a smile, giving you a wink. “You can’t sing, but you still put me to sleep.”

It was catchy, you couldn’t deny that. The funny that part was that Eddie had always refused to write a love song for you on the grounds that it would be too cheesy. Whatever the fuck this was, it was better than a love song. 

“So you tell me that there’s nothing left to say, I drive, you face the window and then you’re in my face telling me to grow up,”

He pointed at you, blowing you a kiss. 

“I wish you’d grow up.”

“You’re a bitch, but I love you anyway…don’t ever go away.”

The song ended; Eddie bowed as you rose from your seat and stalked across the bar. 

Up onto the stage and past Gareth, you wrenched your hands with his and dragged him away - into the wings, down the corridor and to the dusty little dressing rooms down the hall. You were both more than familiar with them; they were the prime spot for a quick pre-show shag and even better for a post-show one when Eddie was riled up with energy. 

The vibes weren’t all that different now, because as soon as the dressing room door was closed you were all over him. Limbs tangled together, his body pressing yours against the wall, desperately kissing each other as your angry tension was replaced with another kind. Your hands made their way up his shirt, clawing at the peachy flesh in an attempt to bring him closer. 

“So…” Eddie paused, chest heaving as he caught his breath. “Did the song work?”

“Yeah, it worked,” you murmured, forehead pressed to his. “I’ll never go away I promise.”

He smiled. “Good.”

[maysileeewrites]

Movie Night - Steve Harrington x fem! reader

Summary: „Great! It’s a dat- deal! Let’s say my place on Friday at eight?“, Steve says, running a hand through his hair. 

In which you work at Family Video with Steve and quickly notice that he knows next to nothing about all of your favorite movies and want to change that, solely because you think that everyone needs to have seen these movies. (And not at all because you like spending time with him … ) 

Warnings: fluff, some very light angst, oblivious idiots in love, slight slowburn , Steve being a huge dork; reader is a huge Star Wars fan (I had to project my SW love somehow :P)

Word Count: 5.1k (I fully intended for this to be shorter, but Steve & the reader just had other ideas ... )

A/N: This takes place before the events of ST4, so no Vecna shenanigans. The reader is a senior in high school, so she’s around 18. Also, this is going to be a mini-series, I’m thinking maybe 3 or 4 parts :) 

I have a masterlist :)

Part I 

„And then of course, we’ve also got Back To The Future - or Star Wars, if that’s more up your alley“, Steve says, running a hand through his hair and smiling widely. You can see the way he nervously glances to the side before returning his gaze to the girl in front of him, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. 

Trust Steve to flirt with nearly every single female customer that walks through the door of Family Video. When Robin told you about his habit of trying to chat up every single female customer when you first started working at Family Video two months ago, you only laughed, thinking that she was merely joking. 

But after working with Steve for two months you’ve come to realize that Robin was dead serious when she told you this. King Steve is still chasing after the ladies, though he’s not really the King Steve you’ve always heard about in high school. Sure, he can be a bit of a dork sometimes and his sarcastic remarks sometimes make you roll your eyes in exasperation, but he’s not nearly as vain or arrogant as people’s stories always said. 

„Oh, do you currently have The Empire Strikes Back?“, the blonde girl asks Steve, looking at him expectantly. „Though all the Star Wars movies seem to be lend nearly permanently, but maybe I’ll have some luck this time … „ 

„The Empire Strikes Back, uh, that’s the one, uh - with - uh … „, Steve says, rubbing his neck and turning around to you, giving you a look that clearly says Please help me out with this! 

You can’t help but grin. For all the time Steve seems to spend with Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair and Mike Wheeler, he still seems to know next to nothing about Star Wars, DnD and Lord of the Rings. 

Steve shoots you another pleading look and you decide to put him out of his misery, before he goes and says somethings like ‚that’s the one with the lightsabers, right?‘ or, worse yet ‚that’s the one where they fight with the glowing light sticks, right?‘. „Well, it seems that today is your lucky day, because it was returned earlier today“, you tell the blonde girl and Steve gives you a grateful smile, before turning around to face the girl again. 

He doesn’t notice the smile you give him in return, because his entire attention is fixed on the girl in front of him again. You busy yourself with the return-list in front of you again, trying to tell yourself that it doesn’t matter. What is it to you if Steve is always flirting with the customers - especially if they’re babes, as Robin likes to put it. 

Steve can flirt with whomever he wants to, it’s not like you care. You’re only this irritated because he seems to do it all the time, flirting with seemingly every girl but - 

„And it’s borrowed! There you go, The Empire Strikes Back is all yours for the next week!“, Steve’s overly cheerful voice startles you out of your thoughts and you lift your eyes from the list in front of you to see Steve grinning widely at the blonde girl. 

„Thanks“, the girl says, smiling back at him, „my boyfriend will be pleased, we’ve been meaning to rewatch that movie together for a while now.“ 

Steve’s smile falters and you can’t help but feel sorry for him as he turns to you, mouthing the word boyfriend? with a miserable expression on his face, even though some small part of you is inexplicably happy at the girl’s words. 

„Better luck next time, Harrington“, you say cheerfully, once the girl has left the store. Steve only groans, burying his face in his hands. 

„Hey, just be glad that Robin isn’t here“, you say, still smiling. Robin would give him so much shit for that interaction and you both know it. 

„Yeah, yeah, whatever“, Steve says, trying to shrug it off, but the way he’s distractedly mussing up his hair, staring at the front door of the store tells you that something’s clearly still bothering him. 

You don’t feel like dwelling on the subject of Steve’s newest failed attempt at flirting with the customers any longer, so instead you ask him: „Do you even know anything about Star Wars, Harrington? Or movies in general?“ 

„Wha- of course I do!“, Steve says immediately, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively. 

„Oh really?“, you ask, raising your eyebrows. „And what’s Star Wars about? Or Back To The Future?“ 

„Well, Star Wars is this space opera - with the - the -  „ 

„Glowing light sticks?“, you finish his sentence for him and Steve groans exasperatedly. „They’re called lightsabers, Harrington“, you say, grinning when Steve throws up his arms in frustration. 

„Hey, I knew that!“, he says, shaking his head when he sees you smirking at him. „I did! Henderson’s always raving about these movies. Besides, what does it matter anyways?“, he grumbles, before busying himself with sorting through the stacks of video tapes that have been returned today. 

„Well - trying to chat up the customers by impressing them with your nonexistent knowledge of pop culture movies is not going to work if you don’t know anything about the movies you’re talking about“, you explain. 

„What - I’m not - „, Steve starts to say, but when he sees you looking at him with an expression that says don’t even try to pretend like you’re not chatting up customers all the time, he stops. „What’s so great about all these movies anyways?“, he says instead, having given up all pretense of going through the stack of video tapes in front of him and looking at you with an expression in his brown eyes you can’t quite decipher. 

„What movies - Star Wars?“, you ask him and he nods. 

„Yeah, Star Wars, Back To The Future, Breakfast Club, Sixteen Candles, E.T. - all these movies that everyone always keeps talking about“, he says. 

You frown in confusion. You’re pretty sure that none of the customers have been raving about E.T. or Sixteen Candles for quite some time, if anything it’s you that can’t shut up about these movies. Or maybe there have been customers asking Steve about E.T. and Sixteen Candles, just not when you were around to witness it. 

„Well, they’re great movies - movies everyone needs to have seen“, you say lamely, still caught up in your thoughts. 

„Oh really?“, Steve says dryly, cocking an eyebrow at you. 

„Yes, really, Harrington“, you reply, refraining from rolling your eyes at him. „Take Star Wars for example - it’s got fight scenes, but also really good characters and one of the best movie villains I’ve seen so far!“ 

„You mean the mouth breather?“, Steve asks incredulously and you frown, before realizing who he’s talking about. 

„Mouth brea- you mean Darth Vader?“, you ask him, wondering how on earth Steve comes to know Darth Vader by the name of mouth breather. 

„Darth Vader, yes, that’s his name!“, Steve says, nodding. „El and the others always call him the mouth breather“, he adds, when he notices your confused look. 

„Right … „, you say. Looking over at Steve, you see the way his expression seems to soften when he mentions El and the others, his eyes take on a look somewhere between proud and annoyed and there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He must be talking about Dustin Henderson and his merry group of friends. Who would’ve ever thought that King Steve, the rich and arrogant popular boy, would befriend people like Dustin Henderson and Robin Buckley and turn his back on his circle of mean and vain friends? 

„I still don’t get why everyone thinks he’s that super great villain - I mean, what does the guy even do, besides breathing loudly?“, Steve says and your eyes widen in shock. 

„You did not just say that, Harrington!“, you exclaim, incredulous. 

„What?“, Steve asks, shrugging. 

„That’s it, Harrington - you and me, we’re going to watch Star Wars together, I can’t have you missing out on these movies any longer“, you say and you’re not quite sure what possessed you to say these words. You can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks - usually, you’re never this bold. Especially not when it comes to Steve Harrington. Sure, you like to tease him and when Robin’s around as well, you both always give him shit for relentlessly flirting with the customers, but usually, you’d never say something like this. 

You’d never admit to it, but you used to have the biggest crush on Steve when you were younger. Even when all of your friends always said that he was just another vain and mean popular guy, you still liked him. Not just because he was good-looking, but also because you were a young teenage girl with a crush and did everything to convince yourself that there was more to him than what everyone was talking about. 

And now, after working with him for two months and getting to know him better, you realize that you’ve been right all along - there is more to Steve than just the King Steve persona he’s tried to hide behind in high school. Steve is kind and caring and cheerful - and also a huge dork. (Or a dingus, as Robin prefers to call him.) 

And right now, he’s also looking at you with a thoughtful expression on his face, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours and there are butterflies in your stomach and you’re pretty sure that you’re blushing even harder, you must look like a tomato and - 

„Alright“, Steve says, a soft smile on his lips and you’re not quite sure you’ve heard him correctly. Of all the things you’ve imagined Steve to say in response to your impulsive suggestion, you hadn’t thought that he’d actually agree with you. 

„I - what?“, is the only thing you can manage to say. 

„Alright“, Steve repeats, his brown eyes still looking at you and there’s that smile again that makes the butterflies in your stomach want to spread their wings. „Let’s watch Star Wars together. And all these other movies that apparently everyone needs to have seen.“ 

„But - why?“, you ask him. You’re not entirely sure whether this is really happening. It just seems so surreal - Steve wanting to watch your favorite movies with you. Though you get along really well, you haven’t really spent that much time outside of work yet. 

There was that one time that Robin insisted that you three needed to spend some quality time together - the Family Video workers bonding outside the store. You went to Steve’s, playing some card games and listening to music, and things were just starting to get less awkward, when suddenly, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair and Mike Wheeler showed up, with Dustin insisting that Steve had agreed to help them with their newest science project. Steve had looked about ready to throw Dustin into his pool, Mike and Lucas had exchanged knowing glances and Robin had looked like she was on the verge of tears from trying not to laugh. 

Since then, you and Robin have met up a few times, but you and Steve have only seen each other at work. 

„Well - you were the one who said that, uh, everyone needs to have watched these movies!“, Steve says defensively and is it just your imagination or is he actually blushing? No, it must be your imagination, you decide, as you watch him glance away from you, rubbing his neck, before looking at you again. 

„Yes - right - I did … „, you stammer, still distracted by the butterflies dancing around wildly in your stomach - and the suddenly very likely possibility of spending time with Steve outside of work. 

„Good - let’s do it then“, Steve says, smiling again. 

„Okay … „, you say and you can’t help smiling back at Steve. Him looking at you like that - with a warm smile on his lips and a soft expression in his chocolate brown eyes - makes you feel extremely flustered and you can feel your heart start to beat faster in your chest. 

„Great! It’s a da- deal! Let’s say my place on Friday at eight?“, Steve says, running a hand through his hair. 

„Sure“, you agree, your voice coming out a little squeaky. Fuck. 

You bite your lip, quickly turning away from Steve and busying yourself with the return-list once more. You don’t notice Steve looking at you with a hopeful expression on his face.

You’re distracted all throughout the week. The closer Friday night comes, the worse it gets. You try to tell yourself that it doesn’t mean anything - it’s just two friends watching some movies together, there’s no reason to be nervous - but still, your conversation with Steve and your upcoming movie night are nearly all you can think about. 

It’s worst when you’re at school and have to sit through classes. Usually, you’re a good student - not exactly at the top of your class, but still you’ve got good grades and you’re attentive during class, listening to the teachers and taking notes. Not today, though. 

It’s Friday afternoon and you have to sit through another thirty minutes of history class before you can go home. You’ve given up all pretense of trying to listen to Mrs. Gellar talk about the US government, and are doodling away on the sheet of paper in front of you instead. 

Looking around, you see Chrissy Cunningham listening attentively to Mrs. Gellar and taking notes, but also drumming the fingers of her free hand on the table. Eddie Munson is scribbling away furiously on the sheet of paper in front of him, but you don’t think that he’s taking notes. He doesn’t exactly strike you as the note taking type. Maybe he’s planning his next DnD session with the Hellfire Club? 

You look over to the other side of the room and see Robin winking at you. You force yourself to smile back at her, feeling the blood rushing to your cheeks. During your Tuesday afternoon shift with Robin, your planned movie night with Steve was seemingly all she wanted to talk about - somehow it seemed to make her really happy that you and Steve are going to spend more time together. 

Once class is finally over, you get up immediately, hastily stuffing your folder and your pencil case in your backpack. „See you tomorrow“, you quickly say to Robin, before hurrying away. You like Robin, you really do, but right now you’re not in the mood for one of her dry remarks like looking forward to tonight? or you must really like Steve if you’re willing to sit through a whole movie with him, the guy can never shut up when he’s watching a movie. 

You’re nervous enough as it is - trying to tell yourself that there’s no need to be nervous isn’t really working - you don’t need Robin asking all these questions and raising her eyebrows at you when you try to tell her that tonight is not going to be anything special, you and Steve are just going to watch a movie together. 

You sigh, thinking how Robin is going to squeeze all details about tonight out of you tomorrow afternoon during your shared shift at Family Video anyway. Not that there will be any interesting details - or any details at all, really. You and Steve are just going to watch a movie together, as friends. That’s it, nothing more. (You’re really glad that Robin isn’t here right now - you’re not sure how she’d do it, but she’d get you to admit that you’re wishing that it could be something more than just two friends hanging out together.) 

Shaking your head at your own thoughts - Steve and you are just friends and you don’t like him like that anymore, or do you? No, you don’t, you really, really don’t - you pull your headphones out of your backpack. But even listening to Kate Bush, The Clash, David Bowie and some of your other favorite artists doesn’t calm you down, like it usually does. 

The rest of the afternoon passes by in a blur. You try to do some of your homework, but it’s no use. You’re fidgety and your thoughts keep going back to Steve and the evening ahead, no matter how hard you try to concentrate on your homework. After rereading the same sentence in your biology textbook for what feels like the seventh time and still not understanding - or even just remembering - what you’ve just read, you give up all pretense of trying to do your homework and decide to get ready instead. 

Not that there’s much getting ready to do - you’re just going to shower and put on some nice clothes, maybe one of your favorite t-shirts. Or should you wear something nicer - maybe a dress or a skirt and a nice sweater? But you don’t want to look as if you’re overdoing it, after all, this isn’t a date or anything like that. 

This is getting ridiculous. Sighing frustratedly, you grab a pair of jeans and your favorite t-shirt and head for the bathroom. After showering, you do actually feel somewhat relaxed, however that feeling doesn’t last long as your parents start asking questions as soon as you sit down at the dinner table. 

„So, you’re doing something with Steve tonight, right?“, your mom asks, as if you haven’t already told her that you and Steve are hanging out tonight. 

„Yes“, you say, quickly taking another bite of food, so you don’t have to say anything more. 

„You’re going to watch a movie together, right?“, your mom asks and you have to bite down hard on your lip to suppress a groan of annoyance. You’ve already told her all of this and your mother isn’t the forgetful type. She’s only asking you all these questions because she’d been delighted when you’d told her that you were doing something with Steve. It didn’t matter how many times you tried to tell her that you and Steve are just friends - in her mind you and Steve are practically already married. 

„Steve - Steve Harrington?“, your dad perks up, laying down his newspaper and looking at you with a curious expression on his face. 

„Yes. And yes, mom, we’re just going to watch a movie together“, you say, your grip on your fork tightening. In a way, this is even worse than any conversation earlier today with Robin could have been. Because where Robin would probably joke about your embarrassment in a lighthearted way, you can see that your parents are serious about this. 

You see them share a knowing smile in a not-so discreet way and you’re really starting to regret having told them anything in the first place. Maybe you should’ve lied to them and told them that you were doing something with Robin or another one of your friends. 

„And what movie are you planning on watching?“, your mother asks you, still smiling. 

„The Breakfast Club - and can you guys please stop this interrogation already?“, you reply. Your parents share another knowing look, they both know that The Breakfast Club is one of your favorite movies and you can only guess as to what conclusions they’re probably getting to at this moment. 

„Interrogation? Honey, we’re just happy for you! I know how much you liked Steve when you were younger and now - „, your mom starts to say, but you interrupt her.

„Mom, please - just - Steve and I are just friends, alright?“, you say and you can feel your cheeks growing hot. Great. Very convincing. 

„Of course, I wasn’t suggesting anything else“, she says, but you don’t miss the shrewd smile she shoots your dad. 

You’re so bugged by your parents words - mostly because they already seem to know what you’re still trying to deny to yourself, which is that you still like Steve like that - that you forget to be nervous for a moment. But then you hear Steve’s car pulling up in your driveway and your heart immediately starts pounding again. 

Thankfully your parents only remind you that have to be home by midnight and don’t insist on accompanying you out of the door and seeing you off. 

Still, you hastily grab your jacket and your bag and rush out the door - with your parents you can never be sure whether they won’t come after you anyways, shouting something like ‚have fun tonight, Sweetheart! And no funny business, Harrington‘ after you from the front porch so loudly that everyone else living in your street will know that you’re hanging out with Steve Harrington tonight. 

„Hey, what’s all the rush for?“, Steve says, laughing when you hastily slam the car door shut. „So eager to spend time with me?“ 

„Oh, just shut up and drive, Harrington“, you say, even though you can feel your cheeks growing hot again. You are excited to spend time with Steve and watch one of your favorite movies with him, but he doesn’t need to know just how nervous you actually are. 

„Well, it’s great to see you too“, Steve says, shaking his head with a smile on his lips. He switches on the radio and Corey Hart’s Sunglasses At Night starts to play. 

Before you can say anything, though, Steve asks you: „So, what movie are we watching tonight? The Breakfast Club?“ 

You nod. „Yeah, that’s the one.“ 

„That’s the one where all these kids have detention together, right? And with that song at the end - Don’t You (Forget About Me) or something like that?“, Steve asks. 

„Well, at least you know the song“, you say and you can’t help but smile when you see Steve looking at you with a pretend offended expression on his face. 

„Hey, just because I don’t know all these super great movies that everyone needs to have seen“, Steve says, taking one hand off the steering wheel and punctuating his words with air quotation marks, „doesn’t mean that I live under a rock or something like that. And it’s not like I haven’t seen any movies, I’ve seen Back To The Future and that first Alien movie!“ 

„Hey, I never said that you live under a rock - just that you don’t really know any good movies“, you reply, grinning. 

Steve groans. „Right, right, we’ve established that already. Though I was wondering why we’re not watching the first Star Wars tonight - aren’t these like, your favorite movies of all time?“ 

„Because I’m not ready to hear you call Vader a mouth breather or say anything about glowing light sticks again just yet“, you say, turning away from Steve and looking out the window. The truth is that you’re scared that Steve is not going to like any of your favorite movies. And though you also love The Breakfast Club, the Star Wars movies just have a special place in your heart. You’re scared of Steve not liking them. Knowing Steve, he’d probably try to pretend that the movies aren’t that bad for your sake, but you don’t want him to lie to you just to make you feel better. 

„I thought they were called lightsabers?“, Steve says, interrupting your thoughts. 

„Right, they are - hey, you actually remembered that?“, you say, surprised. Most of your friends just kind of tune out when you gush about Star Wars once again and you’d just assumed that Steve did the same, so you’re surprised that he actually remembers that. 

Steve rolls his eyes. „I’m not as daft as Robin likes to make me out to be“, is all he says, though he sounds somewhat piqued. 

„I never said that“, you say quietly. Steve turns to look at you and his expression visibly softens. 

„Sorry“, he says. „You and Robin give me so much shit when you’re together, I sometimes forget that you can actually be nice to me, not like Robin who's just insulting me every opportunity she gets.“ You both laugh at his words. Sometimes it really seems as if Steve’s and Robin’s conversations consist entirely of friendly insults, quips and sarcastic remarks. 

As Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams starts to play in the background, you and Steve start talking about anything and everything - how your week has been, your plans for the weekend, the upcoming Basketball match next weekend and movies, the tense vibes from before quickly forgotten. Talking with Steve is so easy, you feel as if you could talk to him for hours and forget everything else. (Like you’re quickly forgetting your previous embarrassment at your parents’ words and all the nervousness you’ve felt all week leading up to tonight.) 

Steve is listening intently to everything you say, his warm brown eyes every now and then glancing at you before he concentrates his gaze on the road in front of him again. He asks you follow-up questions, then launches into his own story, laughing softly as he recalls a conversation he had with Dustin earlier this week. 

You can’t help but laugh along with him. Steve’s laugh is just so warm and inviting and infectious. There are butterflies all over your stomach, but you don’t feel nervous or anxious. Instead, you feel at ease, sitting next to Steve in his car, chatting away about anything and everything. 

All too soon, Steve pulls up to his driveway and puts the car in park. David Bowie’s Heroes gets interrupted mid-song and while you’re still fumbling with your seatbelt, Steve is already getting out of the car, quickly walking over to your side and holding your door open for you. 

„Thanks“, you say, cheeks flaring up once again as you realize how close Steve suddenly is to you. So close that you could count his long eyelashes or reach up a hand and run your fingers through his hair. Is it really as soft as it look? 

Where are these thoughts coming from all of a sudden? You quickly take a step back from Steve, looking over at the grand house behind you instead. All of the lights are out - his parents must not be home. You decide not to ask Steve about it - though you can usually talk to him about any topic you can think of, his neglectful parents who are almost never home, always away going on vacation or business trips or visiting relatives, are certainly a sore spot for him. 

„Nothing’s changed, I see“, you say instead, once Steve closes the front door behind you two. As you take off your shoes, you take in the interior, the family pictures hanging on the wall, the plush carpet underneath your feet, the hall-stand made of teak wood - and the rich and sweet smell of popcorn. 

„You’ve actually made popcorn, Harrington?“, you say grinning, going in the direction of where you remember the kitchen to be. 

Steve follows you. „Uh, yeah … „, he says, and turning around you see him mussing up his hair, evading your gaze. 

„That’s great!“, you say excitedly, entering the kitchen. Steve switches on the light and taking in the kitchen table before you, you see that Steve hasn’t only made popcorn, there’s also a bowl filled with chips, a bowl filled with nuts and cranberries and two bars of your favorite chocolate. 

„Wow, Steve, you didn’t have to - popcorn would have been fine, but, uh, thank you“, you say, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

Steve smiles, and it might just be the lighting, but you think you can see his cheeks turning pink, before he turns away from you, running a hand through his hair again. „That’s - you don’t have to - I, uh, thought that we might as well get the whole cinema experience, with all the snacks and stuff, you know? I also bought some coke, but I could make you some tea or hot chocolate as well, whatever you want“, he says. 

„Tea sounds great“, you decide. Normally, you’d go for a coke, but your nerves are already fluttering up again and you don’t need coke making you even more anxious and jittery. 

„And next time I bring the snacks“, you add, before you realize that you’re not even sure whether there is actually going to be a next time. Sure, Steve said that he wants to watch all of your favorite movies with you, but what if he already doesn’t like The Breakfast Club and decides that he’s not even going to try watching any of your other favorite movies? Or what if he doesn’t actually like you all that much and only agreed to this because - 

„Alright, it’s a deal“, Steve says, shooting you a smile before reaching for the kettle. You smile back at him, even though Steve can’t see it. So there is going to be a next time. 

As you wait for the water to boil, you resume your earlier conversation and Steve tells you about Robin’s newest complaints concerning band practice. Once Steve is done preparing the tea, he hands you a Star Wars mug - you don’t remember Steve being in possession of a Star Wars mug when you last came to his house, but it’s not as if you’ve memorized all the mugs he owns - and you two grab all the snacks laying on the kitchen table and head over to the living room. 

Once you’ve placed all the snacks on the coffee table, you hand Steve the video tape. As your fingers touch, you feel a weird tingling sensation in your fingertips. You look up, only to see Steve looking at you, his chocolate brown eyes an ocean of swirling emotions. 

You swallow. If Steve is going to keep looking at you like that - 

But then Steve glances away, clearing his throat. „Great - uh - thanks for bringing the video tape, I’d better get this started … „, he says, gesturing to the TV behind him. 

You sit down on the couch and reach for your mug of tea, taking a careful sip, seeing as the water’s still steaming. 

After a few moments, Steve sits down next to you, placing the bowl of popcorn between you two.  You’re aware of how close he suddenly is to you, with only the bowl of popcorn between you. So close that you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. So close that he can probably hear your heart beating frantically in your chest. 

Thankfully, the first beats of Don’t You (Forget About Me) start playing right at this moment. Steve looks over at you, cocking an eyebrow as he hears the drum sequences. 

„Well, let’s see how this one goes“, he says smiling, before reaching into the bowl of popcorn … 

divider credit: @delishlydelightfuldividers

taglist: @ahqkas

If you have any wishes / suggestions for movies that Steve and the reader are going to watch, please feel free to tell me! :)

Link to Part II (coming soon!)

[navnae]

For the past few months Steve has been going on and on about a girl he’s seeing, well that’s what he told his parents. Steve didn’t really know how to tell his parents that he liked men and women while also having a metal head boyfriend as well. It seemed like a lot for him to tell them in one day but eventually he had to.

“Steve you’re making me nervous.” Eddie said while watching his boyfriend walk back and forth in his trailer. He understood for some people that their families weren’t supportive of how they live their lives and who they live it with. Eddie never had to deal with that because his uncle supported him no matter what and treated him the same way. Steve on the other hand was new to being in a steady relationship and dating a guy for the first time, Eddie had to let him deal with it all the best way could find.

“I’m sorry,” Steve stopped in front of Eddie who was sitting on the couch. He had all these images in his head about what could happen when he finally tells them. What will they think? What would his dad think? He quit basketball a few years earlier and that really pissed him off for awhile, Steve could only imagine the insults about how he wasn’t participating in sports because he became a “sissy” or he was influenced by kids at school. “I just want them to support me, support us.”

“Hey. Come here.” Eddie pulled Steve onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist giving him a tight squeeze in the process. Eddie caressed the side of Steve’s cheek, a light pink appearing on them. He something in Steve that he’s never seen before and it made his chest tighten. Fear was all over Steve’s face with tears forming in his eyes.

“Eddie, what if they hate me or tell me that I’m a mistake? I don’t think I can handle-“ Steve started to ramble and the tears just came running down his face. He started breathing heavily as his thoughts completely consumed him. Eddie pulled him closer and let him lay his head on his chest. He gently brushed Steve’s hair with his fingers trying to calm him down.

“Everything is going to be ok. They’re still going to love you Steve, look at me.” Eddie lifted Steve’s head so their eyes met. His big brown eyes were filled with tears and he struggled to keep eye contact.

“And if they don’t that’s on them. I love you and nothing or no one is going to change that.” Eddie spoke softly. Steve started to calm down a little after being reassured by Eddie’s words. Maybe he was overthinking everything and his parents would love him still. Steve admired Eddie’s delicate nature when he comforted him. He tucked a strand of loose hair behind Eddie’s ear and took in all of the beauty of his boyfriend.

“What did I do to deserve you.” Steve said softly while tracing over Eddie’s tattoos that were on his arm. Eddie took Steve’s hand and placed it near his mouth to give it small kisses.

“Being your authentic self made me fall for you and I’m not sure I’ll ever stop.” Eddie leaned in and captured Steve’s lips. They kissed each other slowly, letting their movements stay at a gentle pace. It felt like the first time when they kissed during a firework show during the Fourth of July. A spark began between them that day and they’ve been together ever since, truly young love.

“I love you, Eddie.”

“I love you too.”

-

Today was the day that Steve was going to tell his parents about his relationship with Eddie. He prepared himself for the worst that could happen and Eddie scolded him about doing so. They got dressed for the evening to have dinner with Steve’s parents. Eddie thought it would be a good idea to be present when Steve explained to his parents about their relationship.

Steve thought it would’ve been better if it happens gradually but Eddie said there wouldn’t be a better time then to do this now. It felt like ages when when Steve finally pulled up to his parents house and he saw the house lights on. Eddie held his hand, squeezing it tightly to reassure him again that everything will be alright.

Both of them walked towards the front door hesitating on who should knock first. Steve was the one to knock since he was going to be the one doing most of the talking. The door opened and Steve’s dad was the first person Steve had to deal with first. His dad had a confused look on his face before quickly giving a small smile to both boys.

“Long time no see son.” Steve’s dad joked but it was obvious that he was trying to understand the situation at hand. He wanted to say more to Steve, instead he silently let both of them inside the house. Steve noticed the way his dad was looking at Eddie and his stomach was already turning with fear. His mom swiftly entered the living room making the vibe kind of brighter. She hugged Steve so tight that he didn’t think that she would ever let him go.

“My baby boy, I’ve missed you so much. Oh… excuse my manners, hello.” Steve’s mom reached her hand out to shake Eddie’s hand. Eddie shook her hand and showed a charming smile.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Eddie.” Eddie introduced himself. He didn’t show any signs of nervousness around Steve’s parents and that made Steve feel better about tonight. She kept her smile but now she was the one with a confused look on her face.

“Steve you didn’t tell us you were bringing a friend.” Steve’s mom said in a sweet tone even though those words weren’t meant to be. His dad chimed in almost immediately after looking somewhat angry.

“We said this was going to be a family night. You’re mother prepared a meal that would only be able to feed me, her, you and your girlfriend that you said you were bringing.” Steve’s dad made sure to glare at Eddie as he spoke. Steve knew it was time to step in because he refused to let his dad try to make Eddie feel bad in any type of way.

“There was a change of plans because,” Steve paused to look at his parents and Eddie. His heart was beating so fast as he prepared what he was going to say. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Steve’s parents were shocked to hear him say that. Steve hated that he lied to them for so long but he was trying to find the appropriate time to tell them. Eddie looked at Steve and gently rubbed his back, ignoring the looks that his parents were giving him.

“For awhile I was dating someone and it was never “the perfect girl” that you guys imagined, instead I met the perfect boy,” Steve held Eddie’s hand while trying to ease his nerves.

“Mom, dad, I have a boyfriend and he’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Steve finally got the words out of his mouth. He felt his body get lighter after being able to express his feelings after several months of hiding them. Eddie was proud of Steve for doing something so major even though it scared him to death and he didn’t know what the outcome was going to be.

Steve’s parents are silent for awhile as they looked at their son and his boyfriend that they were just finding out about. Steve’s mom walked over to Eddie and pulled him into an embrace. She started to tear up as she held him in her arms.

“Thank you for making baby happy.” She whispered so only Eddie could hear. Eddie wasn’t an emotional guy but right now he wasn’t too far from tearing up either. She pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“You’re not mad?” Steve asked her just like he was a child. She laughed at his cuteness and shook her head. He hugged his mom tightly when she got closer. She kissed the top of his forehead once they separated. Steve was feeling good until he realized that his dad hadn’t said anything for the past few minutes. Steve’s dad walked towards him and lolled at him. Steve wasn’t in the mood to argue but if he had to he wasn’t going to back down.

“Steve,” he began to speak with a serious tone. Steve waited for the insults to come out and disrupt the peace. He clenched his fist as his dad stood in front of him.

“If that’s all can we please eat the food now I’m starving.” Steve’s dad joked and gave him a pat on the back. Eddie and Steve looked at each other being completely speechless. His dad sat at the kitchen table and started to eat. “Hey guys! The food is still warm, let’s have a nice family dinner shall we.”

“Told you.” Eddie pulled Steve in for a kiss and they went into the kitchen a joined his parents for dinner.

[grey-sides]

ahhh greye! can we get some insecure billy! could be about anything, his appearance or his past or idk up to you <3

This tickled my fancy earlier than I expected!

Trigger warnings for internalized sexual shame and mentions of underage, bad relationships.

Billy stares at himself in the mirror. He's not drunk, though he probably had the most to drink next to Steve. But he is at that place where staring in the mirror makes him realize that he's a person and not just any person, but the person staring back at him. He swallows convulsively and looks down at his hands. How many people have these hands touched? How many hands have touched him? A dozen or more now, he thinks. He stopped keeping track after awhile because it was easier than facing the reality of it all. Of who the hands belonged to.

"Billy? You okay, sugar?" Steve calls through the door. Sugar because Steve says he's secretly sweet. Even though it's not a secret that sugar is sweet, but Billy lets him have it because he's Steve. And he loves him.

"Fine," Billy calls back because he's not sick, which is what Steve is worried about. His head is swimming, mind whirling around the drain and far away into his body. He hates himself sometimes.

Steve's body count is four. Cathy on his sixteenth birthday, fumbling and fast and talked about fondly. Carol once, when he was seventeen and Tommy wanted to try something. And Nancy. Sweet Nancy, who Steve still talks about with love. Their time together was special, important, it meant something when she put her hands on his biceps and looked deep into his eyes.

And then Billy, of course. And Steve looks at Billy like he hung the moon when they move together, lay together, warm each other up on cold nights. And Billy has never seen someone look at him so fondly as Steve Harrington does when he's moments away from cumming. He's never heard an I love you quite as sweet when he's inches from sleep and clinging like a limpet.

Because he's been touched by countless hands and none of them have been kind and only one of them has mattered. But he's talked about it like he's won a contest. Like he's the baddest around. He hasn't talked to Steve about it in a long time. Ages now. But the marks are still there. And there was-

There was this woman. At school the other day. They all had to sit in the bleachers and listen to her drone on and on about saving yourselves for marriage. As if she could help half the student body at this point. That ship has sailed, sweetheart.

And Billy doesn't know why her stupid words got to him. Probably because he's vulnerable these days. Flayed open for Steve to touch his tender flesh and tell him he's beautiful.

But now he just feels used. How many others have lied to him? Told him he's beautiful in the exact same tone so he would sink to his knees or bend over somewhere? Steve's the only the second person to fuck him in a bed.

He washes his hands because he's not sure if he did when he flushed the toilet and beats a hasty retreat out of the bathroom before Steve starts asking if he's okay again.

Steve is sitting on his couch, curled up with a cashmere or some shit throw, wearing sweatpants and a pullover in a pretty teal. Billy's pretty sure he owns one in every color of the rainbow. He has reruns of something on, he looks cozy. Domestic.

Billy is not built for domesticity. He is clad in denim and cotton, leather, and wrapped in barbed wire.

The hands on him never mattered before because he had no future. Live hard now, die young, hope to god that if there is one, they're merciful. But now he's in Hawkins fucking Indiana and Steve Harrington has the endless road stretching out before him and his hand is outstretched towards Billy. He maybe has a future.

He has a thousand hands in his past weighing him down. He wonders if Steve thinks about it. If he lies awake at night worrying about Billy being used goods.

Billy sits on the couch, props his feet on the coffee table and stretches out. He doesn't cuddle. He takes and he's used and he's waiting for Steve to drop his arm and go the distance alone.

"You feeling okay?" Steve asks, shifting to his other hip, leaning over so he can brush his hand across Billy's forehead. If he was sick it would be from alcohol, but Steve checks anyway.

"Fine," he mutters, gruff. He wants Steve to lean closer. He wants his hand off of him. Another print in a sea of regret. Not regret. He doesn't know anymore.

Steve studies the side of his face. He's people smart, perceptive, willing to step back and let it go when Billy asks. Or doesn't ask, but tells him in other ways. He doesn't this time.

"Did something happen at Heather's?"

Billy shakes his head, crosses his arms. Tries to look mulish. Feels broken. Feels tattered.

"What's going on, Bills?" He's pleading now, he wants to be let in. Billy may be open for him, but Steve always waits to be invited. Raised well, with manners.

Billy chews on his cheek until it's bloody and torn. He looks down, feels his lashes touch his skin. He breathes out slowly through his nose.

"I wish you were my first," he finally says. Quiet. Angry at himself.

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, furrowing his brows. The television is droning on behind him, but it's swallowed by Steve's wide, worried eyes.

Billy looks away from him again, towards the kitchen where Steve has left the light on above the oven. It makes the room look warm and shadowy all at once.

"Wish you fucked me the first time. Wish it meant something."

Steve's heart breaks on his face and he drops his hand to Billy's elbow. The soft skin of his inner elbow, exposed, where they draw blood when he gets his physicals. Steve could draw his blood. Take it all. Billy would let him.

"It means something even when it's not your first time," he insists, voice soft. He believes it, Billy knows he does.

"Do you know how many people I've slept with?" Billy snaps, looks at him with hard eyes he doesn't mean.

"It doesn't matter," Steve replies, quickly, throwing his hands up, wanting to soothe Billy's savage beast.

"It matters to me," Billy snarls, putting his hands on his chest. "Because I'm used!"

Steve doesn't respond, he never has to. He probably doesn't know what to say because sometimes he doesn't. He'll walk himself in circles trying to think of the words. So he just leans in.

He pulls Billy to his stupid broad chest and he strokes his hair and he holds him. And it doesn't make it better. It will never be better because Billy will never feel pure again.

But under the sanctity of Steve Harrington's whispers and his fingers in his hair, he might just begin to feel worthy anyway.