#boooo steve

[stevie-petey]

at arm's length

You fixed his hair and made a face in the mirror, just to get him to laugh, and you smiled when it worked. “I think you look handsome.” “Yeah, sure.” Steve pushed you away, though his arm stayed loosely wrapped around your side. He had always somehow done this, holding you at arm’s length with a possessiveness to it.  You would come to learn that the possessiveness never really goes away. Not in the way either of you may wish for it to during nights two years from tonight. 

Summary: you and steve found each other when you were eleven; he's held you at an arm's length ever since, suffocating you

Rating: general, suggestive themes

Warnings: toxic relationship, heavy angst, allusions to sex, some stancy, fem!reader, use of y/n, not proofread so pls be kind

Words: 2.9k

Before you swing in: where did this come from ? no clue ! this is pure angst though, no happy ending, all just heartbreak and a very toxic steve. beware. prepare. have fun !

-

Neither of you know how it started.

You aren’t sure when you allowed the lines to be crossed. Steve isn’t sure when he realized he wanted to cross them. 

One night he had simply wanted to crawl through your window.

And, one night, you let him. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you always whisper against his skin in between highs and desperation. 

“I know,” he always kisses the patch of skin just below your ear before encasing you, silencing you.

You’re not sure if he kisses the patch of skin as a promise or as an apology. For what he’s putting you through, for the ignored glances in school, for the way his body stills when someone says your name when he’s around, for the way you always see it.

Afterwards, Steve never stays long. He picks up his clothes as the quiet in your room overwhelms him. He feels your eyes follow him in the dark as he gets dressed and you remain in your bed, sprawled out wanting, waiting, mourning. 

There’s never any malice or anger in your eyes when you watch him, and sometimes Steve resents you for it. He wishes you’d make it easier for him to leave. 

Instead you always watch him with interest, a slight glint in your eye as if you know more than he does; Steve wants to mold a crease between your brows and turn your mouth down with his fingers so that your face isn’t as angelic and understanding. 

“Drive safe.”

Your whispered words are the final blow to the thin wall of glass Steve hides behind. You wish him a safe journey home every time he drives to your house to climb through your window and take more from you than he deserves. 

He hates it.

He hates you. 

Yet every night Steve crawls through your window.

And every night you let him in. 

– 

No one knows how it started.

Your friendship with Steve Harrington was an oddity within Hawkins. 

One day the two of you sat down together during lunch in the sixth grade, and the entire middle school cafeteria went quiet. Everyone had stared at you and whispered, wondering who you were and why you were sitting with someone above your rank, someone who ran with kids like Tommy Hagan.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you had mumbled to Steve, tugging at your sweater with an insecurity you can only feel when you’re eleven. 

“I know.” Steve hadn't seemed to feel this same sense of insecurity at eleven as he popped a french fry into his mouth with a shrug, uncaring. “But who cares?”

You remember looking down at your food, embarrassed and unsure about it all. You’d been standing at your locker merely minutes ago as you looked around helplessly, lost in the school your mom had promised you’d enjoy this time. 

Then Steve had found you.

He had been on his way to the lunch room, late to meet up with his friends, when he had seen you. He will always remember the way you’d been holding yourself, then. You were drawn in, looking around the empty hallways with a wonder in your eyes, despite your obvious fear, that Steve had never seen before in someone his age. 

Steve couldn’t help himself. 

He had asked if you were lost and the way your eyes widened at his question made something within him stir. He watched as a blush spread across your cheeks, shy and nervous, and Steve knew then and there that he couldn’t ever leave you alone. There was something in your eyes, in the way you had looked at him in that moment with that same wonder that had made Steve stop in the first place. 

Soon enough everyone in Hawkins Middle watched as your friendship unfolded. 

It was innocent enough, almost imperceptible to those who weren’t paying attention, but everyone knew. 

Steve was never outwardly friendly with you following your first day meeting him, although he was inseparable from you in his own ways. He would walk you to your classes and always sat a few seats behind you so that he could keep an eye on you. Everyone saw how his eyes never left you. 

You never asked why Steve wouldn’t include you with the rest of his friends. He never introduced you to them, yet he made you promise that if they ever said anything to you that you’d tell him. You promised him, swore to him that you would, and the promise seemed to calm something within Steve. 

“Why?” You had asked him afterwards, not understanding why it seemed so important to Steve that you’d tell him if his friends were ever mean to you. 

“Because you’re my friend.” He stood by your locker as he waited for you to gather your books. People walked past the two of you, whispering as they always did, but he had learned how to ignore them.

You remember frowning, feeling a pit forming in your stomach at his words. “But they’re your friends, too.”

“No, they’re not.” Steve scoffed at you and shoved his hands into his jean pockets.

“But you’re always with them.”

He looked down at his scuffed sneakers, then. “They follow me around. I don’t mind it that much, my dad says it makes boys look cool.”

“Your dad?”

Steve will never understand why he had told you about his dad that day, but he would come to learn that you always somehow made him weak against the things that darkened his mind; how you were always the one he confessed to.

“Can we go to class now?”

“Sorry,” you grabbed the last of your books and closed your locker. You smiled at Steve, you will always remember how hard you had tried to calm him down, make him comfortable around you, and you will always remember how you had placed your hand on his arm. “Let’s go to class.”

Steve flinched at your touch, and you would come to learn that touches weren’t something he was accustomed to; how it would be because of you that he learned what it feels like to be warmed by someone’s fingertips. 

– 

Steve isn’t sure when he became King Steve. 

He thinks it was sometime during his freshman year of high school when he shot up a few inches during the summer and grew his hair long. 

It had been your idea, growing his hair out, because you knew he liked it when you played with it.

“I look like a douche, Y/N.” Steve groaned when he had looked in your mirror. Sometime between sixth and seventh grade, he had started going to your house after school and on the weekend. He claimed it was because your mom was always nice to him, but deep down you knew it was because he enjoyed having you to himself. 

You fixed his hair and made a face in the mirror, just to get him to laugh, and you smiled when it worked. “I think you look handsome.”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve pushed you away, though his arm stayed loosely wrapped around your side. He had always somehow done this, holding you at arm’s length with a possessiveness to it. 

You would come to learn that the possessiveness never really goes away. Not in the way either of you may wish for it to during nights two years from tonight. 

But two years ago you leaned into the arm that still held onto you and played with the hair that had only grown long because of you. “I mean it, you know.”

Steve’s eyes met yours in the mirror, and he saw the wonder there again, though now that you were both fifteen with a shared history, the wonder was now accompanied by a fondness that Steve couldn’t bear himself to look into for long. He loved your eyes, he loved the way you looked at him, but it always burned. 

Thick silence had started to crawl in between you two, then. 

Steve had grown a few inches and his jawline had sharpened and his skin evened out. One day, before your very eyes, he had stopped looking like the eleven year old boy who found you in the hallway. As you stared at him in the mirror that night, you realized just how beautiful he had become, and somehow, even then, you knew that this beauty would strangle you.

The silence had started to grip your neck, so you cleared your throat and tried to pretend that nothing had changed, even though everything had changed in that moment. “It’s late, your parents will want you home soon.”

“They probably don’t even notice I’m gone right now, Y/N.” The moment had been broken and Steve now felt the same fury that had been building within him ever since he was eight. The anger threatened to spill over, but Steve had come to learn that his anger only scared you, so instead he had tried to find another way to quiet the waves within his mind. “I have a better idea.”

“Is that so?” 

“I spend the night.” Steve winked at you, he knew that you sensed his brewing anger, and he desperately wanted to reassure you that he wouldn’t ruin this.

You froze, as if you knew even then that this would be a shift within your dynamic with him. You called Steve your best friend at this point, and while he never said so out loud, you were his best friend, too. At school, you didn’t have many friends, but Steve had now become surrounded by both boys and girls, all vying for his attention, and though he still never introduced you to them, you knew even then that you were the most important person in his life. 

As your eyes met Steve’s in the mirror once more, for a moment you could see the eleven year old boy again, and he’s the reason you say yes.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you reminded Steve for the tenth time that night as you looked over at your door to make sure it was locked. Your mom would’ve killed you if she had ever found out Steve never left. 

“I know.” Steve crawled into bed next to you and collapsed with a huff. He wrapped his arms around you and you were weak against him.

You’ve always been weak against him.

– 

You’re not sure when you first lost Steve to Nancy Wheeler.

They met when you were all in middle school, and yet somehow she hadn’t caught his eye until you were juniors and she was a sophomore. 

He had dated other girls before, but none had been like Nancy; she was the only one who truly caught his eye. 

You watched as he became infatuated with her. It happened slowly, and then all at once. He stopped walking you to class, stopped sitting a few seats behind you, stopped asking to spend the night. 

Steve still saw the wonder in your eyes, though. He still saw the fondness that burned his skin and ground into his bones. He saw your eyes in Nancy’s, and it infuriated him. He loved the girl, he knew he did, but somehow you were always there.

Even after you stopped asking to see him, to sit in his car and drive, to be his best friend again. 

Somehow, you were always there. You were always there, long after you stopped calling yourself Steve Harrington’s best friend and he stopped feeling the need to miss you. 

Then, one night, when Steve had been on his way to pick Nancy up to go see a movie, he drove past you sitting on a park bench with someone’s arms thrown over your shoulders. He remembers feeling the wind being knocked out of him at the sight, he remembers the possessiveness that clawed so deeply into his chest that he had been afraid for a moment that he was dying. 

He doesn’t remember changing lanes and parking there in front of you.

He doesn’t remember the way your face fell when you saw him.

He doesn’t remember the way the guy who had been wrapped around you stood up, asked who Steve was and why he was bothering you.

All Steve remembers is that he no longer saw the fondness in your eyes when you looked at him. The wonder had been gone. 

“Y/N?” His voice hadn’t sounded like his own. Your name hadn’t left his lips in months; it felt like exhaling after breaking an oath. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you had shaken your head at him, somehow knowing Steve’s feelings before he did. He would come to learn that you had always known his feelings for you, long before he was ever able to figure them out himself. You looked at the guy next to you, your date for the night, and shook your head again. “Not here. Not right now.”

“I know.” But Steve hadn’t known anything. If someone had asked, then, what his name was, all he would’ve been able to answer with was yours. He was yours. “I… I know.”

“I think you should leave, buddy.” The guy you’d been with said, and Steve remembers now that his name had been Jamie. He had been on the soccer team, someone he had once shared a drink with at some stupid party last year. 

Steve cleared his throat and avoided your eyes. You knew too much. You knew too much and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to you until then. “Have a good night.”

And then he was gone. 

Steve broke up with Nancy a week later. 

You never saw Jamie after that night. 

– 

Neither of you know how it started. 

But you know how it will end.

Steve doesn’t, but you don’t blame him. 

He sneaks in through your window most nights and takes from you what you’ve always been willing to give him; it’s how your relationship has always been, and yet you’d give him everything and more if he asked you to. 

Steve kisses you and holds you at arm’s length and tugs you back in every time. 

You always allow yourself to be pulled in. 

One night Steve crawls through your window and reeks of alcohol. He trips over himself as he enters, his hair a mess, still grown the length you once suggested to him, and his jean jacket hangs loosely from his thin frame.

“Steve?” You rush towards him and help him through your window, holding your breath as you do so.

He leans heavily against you and slurs his words. “‘M here.”

“You’re here.” You confirm for him, setting him gently against your bed. As he stares at your ceiling with blurred eyes from the alcohol, you start removing his jacket and shoes. He’s not going home tonight in this state, you know his dad will only send him back here again anyways. 

“Always here,” he slurs again, rolling his head to the side as he does his best to look at you. He squints, studying your side profile and it takes everything within you to not face him. You busy yourself with his clothes, giving yourself something to distract yourself with. He frowns, even in his drunken state he can read you so well. “Always… here.”

“You are always here,” you untie his shoes and place them against your wall. “It’s late, Steve. Let’s go to bed, okay?”

“No,” he now tries to fight against you. Words float through his mind, in a haze of letters and sentence fragments, and vaguely there’s something there that he knows he has to say. Some grand epiphany in between his sixth and seventh beer tonight. “I wanna–I wanna talk.”

You freeze. 

He sees your discomfort and feels something break within him. He tries desperately to grasp at the words within his mind. “Here. It’s… You’re here.”

“I live here, Steve.” You’re not sure what he’s trying to tell you, but you know that if he keeps talking, he’ll ruin the last remaining line that tethers you to him. “Please, just close your eyes and sleep–”

“You’re always here.” His voice has strength to it now, as if the confession has sobered him up. His eyes are now focused, though his mind is still a haze of everything he hasn’t told you. His movements are still slow, his breath still reeks, and he knows that this isn’t what you deserve. “W-why?”

You close your eyes. 

You’ve always known how this would end. 

“We can talk in the morning.” You try to appease him, now gently crawling over him so that you can lay his drunken state to rest. “How about you just hold me tonight, okay?”

Steve is gone again, now lost in the alcohol he’s consumed once more, and your offer of him being able to hold you is all he can focus on now. Exhaustion washes over him and he wraps his arms around you, distantly he thinks he remembers someone else doing this to you once. The thought makes him hold onto you tighter, though he thinks that this isn’t fair to you. 

Lips close to your ear, he whispers, “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”

“I know,” you close your eyes again, scared he’ll see the tears within them. 

Neither of you know how it started.

The undoing of whatever you had started long before either one of you truly knew what it was.

One day you were both eleven and Steve had been drawn towards the naivety within you that he never had himself.

Tonight, you’re both seventeen and the naivety is gone, and as the alcohol burns through Steve’s system, he knows it’s because of him. 

You’ve always known how this would end.

Steve has only realized it tonight.

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[ghost-proofbaby]

I literally love your work and this 3k celebration is absolutely GENIUS so can I please get a filthy martini with Steve Harrington? Can it be enemies with benefits(also hate fucking? I blame you for this new trope obsession bc 24 hours GOT ME FERAL)?

nonnie i love you this is the such an incredible request i can only hope i did it justice oh my GOD

come party with me!

sweet like honey (steve harrington x fem! reader)

warnings: smut, p in v, mean steve sort of if you squint?, oral f receiving, talk of unprotected sex, cnc hickies? is that a thing? she says no and then he does it anyway?, arguing over using protection (steve says he'll convince her to not use it next time, but they use it this time!), not edited, minors dni

You hate him. You swear it to yourself, to your friends, to your own mother who sometimes points him out at sport events or at the local grocery store. You hate Steve Harrington. Simple as that. 

But maybe, just maybe, it isn't as simple as that. 

Because you hate him, yes - to your very core -  but you still always end up here. You still answer when he texts you in the middle of the night, you still meet him at your spot at the park that serves as a halfway point between your house and his, and you still end up in his lap in the backseat of the BMW his daddy bought for him. 

“This is the last time, Harrington,” you murmur through fervent kisses as you sit as comfortably as possible in his lap, “I mean it.”

He pulls back with that boyish grin that you absolutely despise, tightening his grip on your hips as his head tilts, “Of course, honey. Just like you said the last two times, right?” 

You don’t offer him an answer, instead plunging back in for a biting kiss. You imagine that if you take his bottom lip between your teeth hard enough, if you bite down with the right pressure, he’ll bleed. And the thought of tasting Steve Harrington’s blood across your tongue is more exciting than you care to admit. 

“Yes, but I really do mean it this time,” you insist against his mouth, your hangs tangling against the roots of his hair. Your goal is to mess it up, to rake through the product and all the time you know he spends in the mirror each morning, and ruin it. 

He only hums in response and urges you down onto his lap harder, the bulge confined in his jeans pressing into you more noticeably. 

“Hard already?” you tsk, rolling your hips harder against him, eliciting a load moan from his lips.

He’s just so easy. Maybe that’s why you keep coming back for more. 

“God, just shut up,” he gasps against you, moving his mouth along your jaw and neck. 

He starts to suck hard on your sweet spot, which in return makes you tug sharply on his hair. Hard enough to make him hiss in pain, “No fucking marks, how many times do I have to tell you?” 

“I know,” he says, clearly not knowing, as he continues to chuckle and trace his finger along the junction of your neck and shoulder, “But imagine just how pretty you’d look, all marked up by me.” 

“And imagine how pretty you’d look with your head between my thighs, not fucking talking,” you remark back. 

No marks. Because if he left a mark, then people might know. And you’d rather die than have anyone find out you had been fucking around with Steve Harrington the last two months. 

Steve suddenly maneuvers the two of you so that you’re laid out across the seat, fitting himself between your legs with clear practice. The two of you have been in this backseat more times than you can count, and have learned your way around the confinement of it all. 

He pushes up the flimsy sleep shorts you’d worn out, bunching them at the top of your thighs as far as they will go as he places kisses up your inner thigh, starting at your knee, “I know you said no marks, sweetie,” his tone is laced with condescending confidence, teeth nipping at the soft skin as he looks up at you, “But what about here, hm? Where no one can see them? Do we have a deal?” 

He’s going to get his way. He always knows he can get his way when he starts to soften you up like this, one hand gripping your knee and already guiding it over his shoulder as the other trails beneath the waistband of the shorts and draws circles on your hip. 

“If anyone can see them, Harrington, I’ll-”

“Kick my ass,” he finishes your sentence for you, already moving to nuzzle his nose into your thigh, “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it all before, babe.” 

He sucks and nips immediately at your makeshift permission, his saliva glistening against the purple bursting to life on your skin in the shape of his lips. 

“Lay off the nicknames,” you sigh, throwing your head back as his moves to make a second mark, higher up and closer to where you ache for him, “Or I will go back home and leave you with blue balls.”

His chuckle vibrates against your skin, eyes flicking up towards you. It’s a shame he’s such an absolute dick, because he looks pretty from here. Hair messed up as you intended, pupils blown wide, lips nearly magnetic against you as if he can’t get enough.

“Oh, honey, you wouldn’t,” he taunts, finally sitting up, beginning to take off your shorts, “We both know you don’t mean it, do you? You can threaten me all you want, but you still come back every,” your shorts are off, and he pauses to lean down and bite at your hip now before continuing, “single,” he moves to the other hip, sucking hard, leaving a weaker shade of violet in his path, “time.” 

You don’t reply as you whine out, hips bucking up, encouraging him to get it over with. To put his mouth where you need it most. To stop with his incessant cooing and taunting and to just fuck you with his tongue. 

He gets the message fairly clearly through his thick skull. 

And you like him best like this, quiet as he slides your panties to the side, tongue on your clit and already sliding his fingers into you, hellbent on unraveling you. He’s learned your body best at this point, knowing when to crook his fingers as he adds a second one, when to alternate between wrapping his lips around your clit to suck and using only the tip of his tongue to trace invisible shapes lost on you. He’s quiet, he’s as messy as a boy like him is capable of getting, and he knows.

But he’s eager. You’d say it’s his downfall, but you truly reap the benefits when he brings you right to the edge only to pull back and begin to make quick work of his own pants. He’s still in his jeans and polo, his work vest discarded in the front seat, his belt quickly joining it. 

You have no time to make another smart ass remark. No opportunity to poke fun at the way he bumps his head against the roof of the car or the way he struggles with his zipper a second longer than he should. Because once he’s gotten his cock out of his briefs, thick and pink and already leaking from the tip for you, he makes quick work to be inside you. 

“Condom,” you gasp out as his tip circles your interest, making him pause for the first time the entire night.

His eyebrows furrow, “You’re on the pill, yeah? We didn’t use one last time.” 

“My mistake,” you grit out, fighting the urge to just let him sink into you, to feel him stretch you in a way you both know only he can, “I know you’re fucking other girls. Wrap it, or I’m out, Harrington.” 

A sudden break of softness. In an instant, his teasing halts and he pulls back, looking at you with a hand still wrapped around his base, “I’m not fucking other girls.”

“What?”

“I said,” he leans down, warm brown eyes staring into yours, “I’m not fucking other girls. Only you. Only has been you since this entire thing started.” 

If you were an idiot, you’d read more into his words. You’d read into the fact that the town’s womanizer, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, has taken himself off the market for you. You’d think about it the rest of the night, your entire way back home, fantasize about it as you closed your eyes and begged for sleep. 

But you’re not an idiot. So you laugh at him. 

“Bullshit,” you say, maintaining eye contact, daring him into some unspoken war between the two of you. 

You watch as his jaw locks, his eyes set in stone, before he suddenly is fumbling around the car floor and producing his wallet. He pulls a condom from where it had been nestled between an abhorrent amount of cash, and he’s hasty in ripping it open.

“Fine,” he mumbles as he rolls the latex over his cock, “Fine. You want me to wear a condom, sweet thing? I’ll wear a condom. But I’m going to fuck you so good, you’ll be begging me to go raw next time.” 

Your stomach clenches, your core flutters. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and you’re already reconsidering your insistence.

“Consider it a challenge, Harrington.” 

When the stretch finally comes, you’re preening into him, back arching and legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He’s harsh now in his actions, hardly allotting time to adjust once he bottoms out before he pulls back and repeats the motion, slamming into you harder the second time. 

He finds his rhythm quickly; he knows what you like. He knows that you want it rough, that you want him to destroy you from the inside out. Your nails claw at him through the cotton of his shirt, and you consider the ramifications if you were to tear through the fabric, leave holes and make the shirt unrecognizable. 

Mommy and daddy would probably buy him a new one. 

Your fingers dig in deeper at the thought. 

“This good, yeah?” he asks, snapping his hips up into your hard enough to that your body shifts upwards, back burning from the rough tapestry of the seat and the top of your head banging into the car door, “You like it hard, don’t you, baby?” 

No words are formed, your mouth open as whines and moans alike tear from your throat, pulling him in closer. He dips his lips back down into your shoulder, placing messy kisses up to your throat. 

“You’re always such a good little slut for me, aren’t you? What would your mother think? What would your friends think?” he presses as a hand grips your bare thigh hard enough to leave marks, holding your leg even harder to his hips, “Going all cock drunk for Steve Harrington, the boy you hate.”

“Shut up,” you groan out, grabbing at his hair and pulling harshly, trying to lift his head from your throat. He doesn’t follow the pull of your hand. Instead, he bites down on the skin he was previously kissing innocently against.

He leaves a mark. You know he does. But all you're capable of is a pathetic whine as your pussy flutters around him, sucking him deeper into you. 

“Fucking knew it,” he mumbles against the skin before his tongue lathes over the spot that still stings, “Fucking knew you loved being marked up, baby. Tried to stop me all this time because you knew you loved it so much.” 

“Steve,” you beg as your head hits the door yet again from the force of another thrust.

He slows his movements, head lifting to take in your features. Your teary eyes, your heaving chest to match his own, “Fuck, too hard?”

You breathlessly laugh, shaking your head, pressing your heel into his lower back, “Harder. Please.” 

Those two words are all it takes. Something snaps inside of Steve right there, in his backseat, you a writhing mess beneath him as his jeans continue to slip down his thighs. Your pleads are his command; he offers the smallest of mercies by moving a palm to protect the top of your head before his thrusts turn animalistic. 

He’s pounding into you as if his life depends on it, as if your pussy is a warm and wet savior he had sought out for years. The surrounding windows begin to fog over as he presses his sweaty forehead to yours, swallowing each of your mewls in exchange for guttural moans of his own. Your pussy clenches down on him, hard, and it does nothing to slow his pace. 

“Fuck,” you call out, back arching further. His hand trails below you and settles into the curve of your lower back, pressing you up against him further as he continues. “Oh my God, don’t stop. Please, fuck- Don’t stop. Please, please.”

Steve laughs lowly at your babbling, “I’m not, sweetheart. I’m not. Let go.” 

Just like that, you feel the pleasure heat up your core, molten between your hips as you feel every inch of him continue to stretch your walls. His hips begin to stutter as you tighten around him, crying out as the coil tightens to it’s breaking point. It overflows from you, whimpers and cries alike as he kisses them away with clashing lips and teeth. The waves of euphoria are still consuming you and dragging you under when he suddenly stiffens, stilling deep inside of you and collapsing down on top of your chest, groaning the loudest of the night between pants, his hand still curled into the small of your back. 

You suddenly wish you could feel his heat filling you. He was right - next time, there will be no condoms. You want to feel him, need to feel all of him. 

You both are quiet as you catch your breaths, neither saying a word as you come down from your highs. In a moment of innocent serenity, accidental peace amongst enemies, he presses his cheek against your sternum through your own shirt. You can feel his heart hammering in his chest against your torso. 

But the peace must end. Because you’re you, and Steve’s Steve, and the two of you can only fit together so effortlessly for so long.  He finally lifts his head, the devilish boyish grin returning, as he asks, “So, same time tomorrow, honey?”

[keery]

damn steve’s parents don’t exist in the show OR the play

[queer-coded-camaro-driver]

Hey babes! Harringrove dialog prompt, inspired by my most recent post about Steve's Yellow Sweater

"My clothes look good on you, Pretty Boy."

*doesn't have to be the Yellow Sweater just have fun with it!*

Hey boo!! Glad to see you back again <3

harringrove, established relationship

---

Steve pulls on a loose-fitting yellow sweater and blinks. He doesn't remember buying this, but it was hanging in his closet. It's been hanging in his closet for nearly two full weeks, and the weather is finally chilly enough to wear it to school.

The mystery of the sunshine colored sweater and its origin point is solved the moment Steve steps out from his BMW and into the arms of his PDA-happy boyfriend. Billy runs his hands up and down the taller boy's biceps approvingly, fingers fluttering over butter-soft material. The metalhead smirks and says, "My clothes look good on you, pretty boy."

"Yeah, well, I think they look better on my bedroom floor."

"You say that every fucking time I compliment your outfit," Billy rolls his eyes, sighing theatrically. His hand finds a spot in Steve's butt pocket regardless. "Knock it off."

Steve allows himself to be led into the school building, his books nestled carefully in the crook of Billy's arm. The other arm is currently holding Steve around the waist, allowing that hand to cup an entire palm full of ass through Steve's Wranglers. The brunette sticks out his tongue, "Never. It's too much fun."

"Know what else could be fun?"

"What's that, Hargrove?"

"Skipping school entirely and going to see a movie."

"Huh," Steve winks. "You might just be right for once."

They glance around to check for teachers before turning and stealing back in the direction they came. The teenagers dart over to Billy's car, climb in, and laugh all the way out of the parking lot.

[counterculturecryer]

Two-Bit: (joking) yeah Ponyboy ain’t so tuff

The gang: *laughs*

Steve: yeah Ponyboy sucks boooo👎👎👎👎👎👎

Steve:

Steve: How come it’s different when I do it

[imfinereallyy]

Shared Kisses

for @steddie-week I’m behind on it but I couldn’t resist day 3, and it’s a little late because I fell asleep while writing it, that's how sleep deprived I am haha. prompt: first kiss

“Okay, okay! It's my turn now. Sir Steven, Lady Birdie, tell me, who was your first kiss?” Eddie giggles from his spot on the carpet. He smells like stale menthols and pine; Steve can’t get enough of it. He has to resist from leaning his head into Eddie and taking a breath of him.

Steve is starting to believe he needs his head checked. Again. Wanting to smell one of his friend's necks isn't normal.

Steve is also starting to realize that maybe that is because he wants to be more than friends. God, he is such a loser sometimes.

“Oh, this is unfair! You know the rules state that we can’t ask it back now. Boooo.” Robin chants from her place on the couch, where she hangs upside down. Steve is for once glad they aren’t playing a drinking game; he is sure Robin would have vomited by now otherwise.

“I still think this a weird game to be playing.” Steve dodges the question and nudges Eddie with his knee.

“C’mon Harrington, questions is an absolute solid getting-to-know-you game.” Eddie nudged his knee back.

“Dude we’ve been friends for six months.”

“Yes but there are so many layers I have yet to peel.”

Robin grunts from her upside-down position, Steve can tell all the blood has finally rushed to her head, and she tumbles onto the ground next to them. “Gotta agree with Metal Man here, Steve-o. I’ve known you even longer, and I still don’t know everything. And we are practically connected.

Steve blows air from his lips, “So this is just a ploy to expose all my secrets.”

Steve can tell that Robin, who might as well share a soul with him at this point, can sense how uncomfortable he is beginning to feel. Her teasing softens for a moment. “What if I went first, yeah?”

Steve pauses, “Yeah okay.”

“You got to promise not to make fun of me.”

“Of course, Robs.”

“I make no such promises.” Eddie interrupts but ultimately cuts the tension in the room. Steve kind of feels like it is on purpose, by the way his eyes skim Steve carefully, and the way Robin lets out a loud snort.

“Wasn’t talking to you doofus. I don’t actually respect your opinion of me.”

“Hey!” Eddie protests, but they all know he isn’t really offended.

Robin chuckles lightly, but continues. “It was in middle school, at one of my first girl-boy parties; gross, right? I hate that we called it those. Anyway. They decide to play spin the bottle, and I feel pressure because my only friend at the time is Barb, and she didn’t come and Colleen Walsh is doing it, and she—well, she’s the prettiest, most popular girl in school at the time and I’d be an idiot not to follow along. So we’re playing Spin the Bottle, right? And rounds go by, and it doesn’t land on me, and I’m grateful but Colleen notices. She goads me on to do it, take a spin since it isn’t fair I haven’t kissed anyone. So, wanting to get over being the center of attention, I reach over and spin it, and it lands on—“

“Wait.” Steve stops Robin, realizing she is about to out herself to Eddie on Steve’s behalf. He doesn’t want her to do that but on anything but her own terms. “Are you sure about this, Robs?”

Robin throws her head back and laughs, “Yea, I’m sure dingus. No need to worry. Anyway, you’ll never believe who it lands on.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows, “C’mon buck don’t leave us hanging.”

“Tommy Hagan.”

Eddie and Steve both start choking on air while Steve screams, “What!?!”

Eddie collapses on the ground with a dramatic groan, covering his face with his hands and mumbling, “why cruel world?” Robin giggles at his antics.

“You’re telling me it wasn’t….?” Steve trails off, hoping Robin gets the hint.

“That it wasn’t a girl? No dingus, just because I’m a lesbian doesn’t mean all my experiences are with women. Besides, I was 12; I didn’t realize staring at Colleen’s boobs wasn’t jealousy.”

“Oh, thank god, you know; I thought I was going to have to break the news to you that your gayer than the men’s locker room after a winning game,” Eddie mumbles behind his hands still on the ground.

“Only you would make a sports reference in relation to gayness, Eds. Also, wait, you knew she was lesbian? How did you know? Why are you freaking out then?” Steve rapid fires questions.

Still covered with his hands, “Like seeks like, Harrington. It’s like a sixth sense.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry, “You’re gay?” He says hopefully.

Eddie finally removes his hands from his face but doesn’t sit up. “Yea, Stevie, thought you knew, honestly. Not like it’s a secret, all of Hawkins talks about it.”

“I try not to listen to the rumor mill.”

A soft smile graces Eddie’s face, “One of the many things I love about you sweetheart.”

Steve tries not to blush, but ultimately fails. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re freaking out about Tommy. Sure, he sucks, but like I reacted that way cause I was friends with him at some point. What’s you’re excuse?”

Finally Eddie sits up with a groan. “Okay, promise not to laugh or freak out?”

Robin and Steve both nod and mumble a little “yea of course”.

Eddie rubs a hand down his face, “Okay, I freaked out because even though it’s not my turn to answer and I don’t have to, well—it’s because. Okay, I’m stalling; it’s because Tommy Hagan was also my first kiss. When I was 15, under the bleachers.”

Robin and Steve are both silent, Eddie looks at them expectantly. “Are you guys going to say anything?”

Robin speaks up first, “I think this is the closest we can get to not freaking out.”

“I think I would prefer that over the freaky twin silence.”

Steve still stays quiet while Robin proceeds to react, “Oh my god Munson! This is the funniest and freakiest thing ever. And not in a freak way you like! This is magnificent, oh my god….” Robin continues to cackle and make fun of Eddie, but Steve tunes it out. He can feel all the blood rush to his ears, blocking out all the sound from the room. Tommy. Tommy. He has kissed both of his best friends, one of which he wants to kiss himself. That just seems unfair to Steve. It hurts Steve, and he doesn’t know why. Actually, he knows precisely why.

“My first kiss was when I was 13,” Steve says abruptly, not making eye contact. The both of them stop their bickering and turn to Steve. They stay silent, as if they know Steve needs it to get through it. He is thankful for them both.

“I was 13, and my parents weren’t home. It had become the usual at this point, but I was sad because it was my birthday, and this was the first birthday they didn’t even send a card. And Tommy decided to come over to cheer me up; this was back, I guess, when he still cared too. And we didn’t do much; I didn’t like to make a big fuss about my birthday even then, but it was a nice night out just before the break of summer. So we decided to stargaze on the roof. And I don’t know how it happened, but one second we’re trying to find the Little Dipper, and the next, Tommy is kissing me. It was nice, honestly. To have someone you care about show you affection. And when he pulled away, I smiled at him, but he just stared. And then—“ Steve swallows thickly before looking up at Eddie and Robin, who both look at him with rapt attention.

“Then his face turns angry, and he punches me. He punches me so hard that I almost fall off the roof. He tells me not to be a queer, and if I told anyone, who would tell everyone what I was. And it seemed unfair, right? Because he kissed me, I only smiled. I haven’t kissed a boy since.”

Suddenly there is an arm around his shoulder, “Stevie….” Eddie tucks Steve’s head into the crook of his neck, and Steve begins to sob.

Robin quietly gets up, “I’m going to make us some tea.” Steve knows she can sense that he needs a moment with Eddie. Steve loves her more than life.

“I’m sorry this is stupid. I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

Eddie rubs soft circles on his back, “It’s not stupid, honey. He hurt you in more ways than one, and traumatized you from exploring yourself. You have every right to be upset. Thank you for telling us. You didn’t—you didn’t have to. You could have lied, or told us your first kiss with a girl.—“

“Colleen Walsh.” Steve interrupts into Eddie’s neck.

Eddie barks out a laugh, “Of course it was. Anyway, Steve, thank you for sharing. I’m glad you feel safe with us.”

Steve’s tears are no longer. “I always feel safe with you, Eds.” And the Steve finally does the thing he’s been wanting to do all night. He takes a big sniff of Eddie. Steve doesn’t care if it’s weird because he settles a sort of calm in him.

Eddie grips his waist tight, and puts a finger under Steve’s chin, pulling his face close to his own. “Yea, I do? Does that mean you also trust me?”

Steve can feel Eddie’s breath on his lips. He knows it’s probably not good how quickly his mood has changed, but he can’t find it in himself to care. The air between them is electric, and intense. Steve can feel it make his whole body come alive. “Of course I do.”

Eddie leans even closer, “Good. Because I think it’s a damn shame a pretty boy like you hasn’t kissed another boy since.” Then Eddie presses their lips together.

Steve isn’t sure if someone were to ask what his first kiss with Eddie was like if he would be able to answer. It’s indescribable; it’s perfect. But if he is to try, it would be this, soft, slow, deep, and oh so very good. Steve can feel the heat from Eddie’s lips pulsing into his own. Eddie’s hands' grip Steve’s face, angling him deeper as he slides his tongue into his mouth. Steve pulls him closer by his t-shirt. Going crazy off the taste of salt and chocolate that now swipes his tongue.

They both pull back a little breathlessly, hands still gripping each other. They lean their foreheads together, and Steve smiles. He smiles so big his face hurts. And Eddie does the most thing in return,

He smiles back.

The moment is broken, though, when Robin enters the room again with a bowl of popcorn and a loud “Oh thank god, I was sick of the pining. From both of you.”

Eddie sputters while Steve just laughs at her. “I thought you were making tea Birdie?”

Robin sits down next to them again, “Too much work and I was snacky.”

Steve throws popcorn at her head but isn’t upset at all. He leans his head on Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie kisses the top of Steve’s head.

Robin smiles fondly at them. Then her face scrunches up in pain, “Wait, all of our first kisses was Tommy Hagan?”

“Yep.”

“Unfortunately so.”

“God I do not want to give that twerp any more credit in life than I have to. Why are we all like this?”

Steve giggles while Eddie shrugs.

Robin can’t keep a straight face anymore and falls into laughter. “Wait, does this mean we are all bounded by this? I completely unrelated, non-upside down experience?”

Eddie speaks up before Steve, “I believe so, Lady Buckley. A trauma outside of other worlds binds us. We have been bound since before the slain of Vecna.”

Robin shrieks, “Awee, guys! We were always meant to meet then.”

Then Robin tackles the both of them to the ground in a bear hug. Steve’s not even mad that she’s in the middle of Eddie and him.

Because this, right here, is all the love he’ll ever need.

***

I'm behind on steddie week, but I want to throw my hat in the ring. Have a written a first kiss thing before? Yes I have. But I can’t resist. Thank for the read, love this community so much.

[anika-ann]

Seven Minutes (S.R.)

Type: TWO-SHOT, independent, canon-ish

Pairining: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 8700

Summary: You’re not obliged to go to that party, but you go because it’s a rare occasion during which most of your fellow Avengers meet and have some fun together. Until someone suggests a stupid teenage game. Until you and Steve end up locked in a closet together and things take a turn you couldn’t have possibly predicted.

Maybe you should have. Whenever Tony or – god forbid – Loki gets involved, it’s bound to end up in a disaster. Only this time, the victim of the shenanigans might be your heart.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, NSFW, (unprotected sex, fingering, glimpses of size kink and praise kink, soft hints of D/s, mirrors, possessiveness;), alcohol, a drop of angst, language (a lot)

A/N: written for @jtargaryen18 Halloween challenge. Prompt in the final notes. I toyed with it so much that it might have been cheating 😅 dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

Part 1: Seven Minutes in Hell

“I thought about how there are two types of secrets: the kind you want to keep in, and the kind you don't dare to let out.” ― Ally Carter, Don't Judge a Girl by Her Cover

The party had died down; or as Tony said, only the fittest had survived. Banner, drunk on Asgardian liquor, let out a sensible chuckle at the words and fell asleep as he was, sprawled over one of the couches in the communal area, which looked more like a war zone than an aftermath of a giant party.

It wasn’t the mess of empty bottles and glasses and cushions having been thrown around at some point. It was the skeletons. The fake blood. The few smashed pumpkins, literally beaten to a pulp. Luckily, the one single torn-off arm which some idiot had smuggled in despite the strict ban on those, based on the fact that at least half of the guests suffered some form of a PTSD, had been kicked under the bar and covered by a cloth as soon as you had found it. Tony, despite already finding himself in a drunken haze, agreed to kick the asshole who had brought it out. Steve had shot you a grateful look when you had asked Tony to do so. Bucky – thankfully – never learned about the tasteless joke ever taking place.

Unlike the space, the Avengers had an aura of comfort around them. Lying around, some chatting sleepily, chuckling every now and then, some talking animatedly with a few friendly nudges under the ribs, they lounged in the area and welcomed the 1 a.m. announcement by Friday with relative grace.

Except for Tony, who booed and proceeded to glare at every single conscious Avenger present, one by one; Natasha and Clint comfortable on one couch, Steve and you on the other, Thor filling out a huge armchair, Rhodey looking a bit small in the other in comparison, Wanda practically lying in a lounge pug with Vision hovering by her like a guard, Helen and Maria crossed legged on tiny tabourets, Sam and Bucky, having been fighting each for their space on the couch, now sitting carelessly with Bucky’s feet against Sam’s thigh. And then there was Loki, spinning slowly in his egg chair he had charmed up and kept up in the air with his magic, Pepper having reluctantly sat down in the other which Loki had graciously made for her with a snap of his fingers.

“Seriously, guys! Just… boooo! This party is dying! We need to shake things up!” he called out theatrically, standing in the middle of the Sleepy Hollow with judgement written all over his face. Then, he lowered his voice, a wicked smile twisting his lips. “Do you wanna play a game? I do.”

At least four distinct snorts sounded around the group at his poor impression.

“Really, Tones?” Natasha questioned, probably referring to both his acting skills and the suggestion.

“I do want to play a game. It’s called let’s go to bed,” Bucky groaned, rolling his shoulders and throwing his feet back to the ground, startling Sam in the process.

“The night is still young, Barnes,” Clint huffed despite his eyelids barely staying open as he kept twisting a rubber imitation of femur between his fingers. “You sound like an old man.”

“Oh? That coming from you really says something,” Sam pointed out, a good-natured smile curling his lips; at the same time, Tony hummed: “Or a kinky one.”

“I must say I agree with Stark this once,” Thor boomed, nodding thoughtfully as several voices groaned at the gleeful grin lighting Tony’s face. “There seems to be a lull to these revels and it is indeed too soon to retire to bed. The sun has not even risen yet!”

A single clap of hands and Tony was gesturing towards Thor. “See! The Asgardian agrees with me. I must be right.”

“I bet he’s already regretting his words,” Steve noted, drawing a small chuckle from you.

In all honesty, you would be inclined to agree with Bucky on this one. Going to bed sounded heavenly, but there was one huge disadvantage to bed compared to the Sleeping Beauty Castle the Halloween party had turned into: the company wasn’t nearly as good. You weren’t greedy – you wouldn’t need all the Avengers present to come cuddle you in bed. Just one would do. The one whose thigh occasionally brushed yours as you talked about anything and everything, all kind smiles and a slightly tipsy spark in his gorgeous blue eyes which were complimented by the treacherous midnight shade of his one-size-too-small shirt.

“Now, now, Captain. The other Asgardian agrees too,” Loki’s voice slowly sneaked in, something in his tone causing your heart to skip a startled and yet excited beat.

Loki was… a friend. After trying hard for redemption, he had begun to join the Avengers business on occasion, his magic always proving to be of enormous help. His humour was a little wicked and twisted, but his heart was not nearly as dark as people had believed – or even he himself had. You sensed Steve’s wariness towards him still and understood his reasons; and secretly, you revelled in the worry Steve expressed whenever you spent time with Loki, which the golden-hearted captain feared you did so with a little too much trust.

The only reason why you wouldn’t throw it back to Steve’s face that he was questioning your judgement was the fact he had admitted he did actually not do that, ever – but simply cared for your safety – and that fact that he attempted to be as respectful about it as possible. That and the heartwarming knowledge that he thought of you, one way or the other. Maybe him being the person who was giving out the gentlest hugs could have played a role as well. Or perhaps even that you had – like a silly, silly girl – fallen for him long time ago and would let him not only get away with murder at this point, but probably also ask him if he needed any help to hide the body. Because you’d either believe him it was for a good reason that he had committed the crime, his moral compass just about perfect, or simply because he deserved the most loyal friends and loved ones he could get.

The sudden heavy thud snapped you back to present, causing you to jump in your seat. Steve’s warm hand covered yours in an instant, gaze trailing to you to make sure you were alright. As he gently squeezed your hand, you glanced at him and shot him a grateful smile.

He let go as soon as your gaze returned to the source of the noise: a large closet now standing a few feet from the seating area.

“How about this?” Loki suggested, calmly beckoning to the piece of furniture having just appeared out of this air.

“Do you… want to play Seven Minutes in Heaven?” Wanda, suddenly wide awake at the stronger present of magic, questioned.

“Why not? I was under the impression Midgardians enjoyed this game during a party.”

“What are we, thirteen?” Sam asked, eyebrows creased sceptically.

“…going on thirty? Good movie,” Clint hummed, his grin showing pride at his reference.

“Ew, no-“

“Do you even know what Seven Minutes in Heaven is about?” Natasha asked, her expression intrigued; you had no doubt her mind had already begun to race as she tried to decipher the trickster’s motivations.

“Yes. I am quite pleased by the concept. If we play, perhaps I will be lucky enough to spend some private time with lovely Lady Speedy.”

Your eyebrows shot up as your gaze found Loki’s, a provocative smirk twisting his mouth. Interesting. Maybe even intriguing. Except it was not; at least not for the reason one might think. Loki was not at all interested in you. If he had, you would have known without a shadow of doubt. He wasn’t one for subtlety; if he had had an eye on someone, he would make sure to court them, persistently so. Or perhaps he would simply take.

No, Loki had not spent time thinking of you, much like you hadn’t spent time thinking about him.

There was only one Avenger whose company and love you longed for and had for the longest time – and you wouldn’t be surprised if Loki knew. What you hoped he had no idea about was the fact that you could have had it, once.

You could have had Steve, but you had mucked it up, too shocked to yes when he had asked. It had felt too fast, too surreal to be even happening – Steve Rogers asking you out for a cup of coffee – too good to be true.

Naturally, in a very Steve Rogers fashion, he had been too polite to disrespect your decision or let it negatively impact your blooming friendship back then; he had not made a single attempt to ask you out again since. In return, you had been too embarrassed to explain yourself – to explain that you felt like the luckiest girl on Earth, if not in the universe, that you would have jumped at the chance if he as much as hinted he was still interested – and in a very mature way, you never mentioned it again.

That was fine. You and Steve had become friends. Perhaps even good enough friends to mention it as an awkward memory; and only that, because you doubted that he was still carrying a torch for you. He had even briefly dated with Sharon Carter after the incident; he clearly moved on, because there was nothing to move on from. You had barely known each other back then. It wasn’t like you broke his heart or something. You just decided mess up what could have been a beautiful relationship.

Instead, you had a comfortable caring friendship. That counted as a win, yes?

And if you ended up in a closet with him for seven minutes now, you would, once again, acted like mature adults and… hug or something, yes? You would not give in into some stupid game and kiss him just because you’d have an excuse to do so. You would not be tempted to--- no. You respected Steve too much for that. You would never make anything to make him uncomfortable; if you had, you would not only not deserve to call yourself his friend, but even a decent human being.

And you were not thirteen anymore. You knew better. The awkwardness would not be worth it; the rejection would not be worth it. Losing the gift of Steve’s friendship would most definitely not be worth a few seconds of Heaven, of testing whether his lips were be as soft and gentle as you thought, if they tasted like you dreamed of. Knowing whether he would respond, whether he would kiss you, whether maybe, just maybe, there could be the faintest traces of seeing you differently than a friend and colleague.

No, the stakes were be too high.

“Hm… I think we should play,” Natasha said, earning at least five shocked stares, including yours.

“What?!”

“We should definitely not,” Steve protested, leaning forward with a very displeased frown, his eyes burning as he glared murderously at Natasha for entertaining the trickster’s whim.

“I mean… why not, after all? Two people in a closet, in cramped space? What is not to enjoy?” Bucky added, clearly changing his mind about going to bed. He was next at the receiving end of Steve’s disapproval.

“Ask a claustrophobic, I’m sure they’d come up with a reason or two,” you hummed, earning a sardonic ha ha from the dark-haired supersoldier.

“I mean… who knows. Could be magical,” Tony wiggles eyebrows.

“Are we back to 13 going to 30?”

Wanda, Pepper, Maria and Sam said NO with impressive coordination.

“I must say I am intrigued as I cannot quite see the appeal. It would be an enriching experience for me to understand. What is the worst that can happen?” Vision questioned.

“You did not just ask that,” Sam complained.

“Please tell me it’s just a closet and not some sort of a portal to Narnia?” Pepper chimed in, Loki’s smile surprisingly pleasant as he turned to her.

“It is simply a closet, my dear Lady Potts.”

“I don’t know, you guys, it still sounds like a pretty bad idea,” you chuckled nervously as you felt the air shift towards agreement to participate in this ridiculous game.

“Seconded,” Steve grunted by your side – but it was too late.

“Too bad, I’m getting an empty bottle,” Tony blurted out as he practically sprang after the nearest bottle indeed.

It was the perfect opportunity to walk away; it was the last chance to get out.

You didn’t.

Perhaps you didn’t want to look like a coward. Maybe you didn’t want to be a party pooper. You guessed you hoped they would scrape the idea after one round, because they would realize the game was lame and boring. Maybe, just maybe, a little part of you wondered if something interesting would come out of it – and you didn’t want to miss it.

Those were the things running through your head when you walked side by side with Steve, cursing the universe or some sort of physics cheat Tony had pulled or maybe Loki’s magic. Because of course it happened. Of course, the bottle pointed at you – and then on Steve.  

Could have been worse, you reasoned with yourself. Could have been… yeah you didn’t know who. Bruce who might turn in to the Hulk while in there was asleep, so he never was an option.But it was too late to back out now.

Steve, ever the gentleman, let you walk in first, offering a hand, a gentle smile on his face as he rolled his eyes at your friends being children. You squeezed his hand and smiled back, grateful – and calm.

Yes, being with Steve in such tight space with the knowledge what the game was about sent a few tempting thoughts into your head – but you’d be fine. You’d just chat, privately; you had done that countless times before, late night talks and maybe even your head resting on his shoulder when you got too sleepy to sit straight. You’d be fine.

Steve climbed up after you so you stood face to face, flashing you one last comforting smile. And then Tony closed the door behind you, leaving you in utter darkness.

Your first thought was that the inside of the closet was a lot smaller than it had appeared from the outside.

Your second thought was that perhaps that was not the fault of the closet or your eyes; the sheer width of Steve’s shoulders and other proportions of his body which had starred in too many of your dirty dreams and innocent fantasies alike were to blame instead.

Your third thought was that the air was becoming a little too hot and heavy to breathe a little too fast and that you weren’t certain you could last seven full minutes in this space where it felt you might as well already be wrapped in Steve’s arms. The subtle tones of his woodsy cologne, the heat radiating off his skin, the faintest light peeking through the door reflecting in his slightly ruffled hair and in his eyes, caressing his features the very way you always wished.  

Your fourth thought was, incidentally, less of a thought and more of an emotion – a red hot one at that. The flash of anger that ripped through you honestly took you by surprise, and hit you too hard to be ignored.

Because this was stupid.

This game was the stupidest thing possible that your friends could come up with. Steve was entirely stupid with his brilliance and courage and care and morality and outrageous handsomeness and most of all with giving you hope once that you could be good enough for him, that there was a glitch in the universe large enough that would somehow made the two of a potential couple. And you, oh you. You were the most stupidest of it all. To allow yourself to hope as well. To not let go of that fleeting seconds when the light of Steve Rogers was in your reach and you stood there like a dumbass without grabbing it, never speaking of it again then and yet still carrying a torch for him for two idiotic years.

Maybe if one of those things had been different – most likely of all, you – you could have been making out now. Maybe, you would feel his gentle touch in these shadows; or maybe hungry touch even. Maybe, because your friends were nosy assholes and drama queens, they would have banned you from participating in this in fear that they would have to disinfect the closet after you got full seven minutes in here.

Instead, all you had was a tentative brush of Steve’s hand to your elbow and the kind rumble of his voice, laced with worry.

“Hey, Shines. Are you okay?”

Ah yes. Another maddening thing: Steve’s sweet nickname for you. Where others called you Speedy – because of how quickly you had finished the intelligence test and made your way up in the Initiative – Steve had expressed his distaste in the nickname because just around the same time, he had learned about the modern term “speed”. Apparently, he did not like the idea of calling you something that reminded him of amphetamines. So instead, he had once admitted, he converted it in his head to the speed of light. And so Shines had been born.

The affection he sometimes spoke the single word with – the affection you longed for and mostly only imagined – was perhaps even more idiotic than your lack of reaction to his slightly shy advance two years ago.

For someone with your IQ score, you really were surrounded by stupidity and radiated it generously yourself.

The chuckle that escaped you tasted bitter on your tongue. “Why, sure. You?”

Even with the limited amount of light, you could see Steve’s searching gaze clearly. You could practically hear his mind whirling, wondering where the sudden ire had come from.

In an instant, you felt bad for snapping. Your trouble and your insecurities nor your anger at yourself were something he deserved to bear consequences for.

“I’m… fine,” he said after a while, kinder than you would have in his place. “Is there anything I can do to make the ‘sure’ better?”

Yeah, you thought. There were quite a lot of things; either put his mouth on yours – or elsewhere on your body, you weren’t picky – or maybe stop being so damn good of a person and being so damn loveable all the time when he didn’t mean anything beyond friendship by his behaviour.

You swallowed the once again bitter note and charmed a smile, your hand covering the back of his, still softly resting on your elbow.

“No. But thank you. I’m… sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he replied, eyes still searching. And soft. So annoyingly soft and caring.

You lowered your gaze and gulped, not finding it in yourself to respond. What could you even say to that?

The problem with Steve was that even if you weren’t looking at him, you could still feel him looking at you. At rare times, it felt like a punch, if he got truly angry with you – when you did something he considered stupid and dangerous as if you hadn’t been quite inspired by his own bravery – but at other times, like this, it felt like a fluffy blanket and a warm cup of tea pressed to your hands when the blues came knocking on your door.

No words were spoken for a long minute. And then, like you should have known they would, Steve’s arms carefully pulled you to his chest and wrapped you in a hug which felt just like his gaze a moment ago; except this feeling was real. He sucked up all your anger and frustration you into his chest with ease, breathed in once, then twice and unlike you, he simply let it go, allowing you to soak in his affection instead. 

You could cry at the sweet gesture. Sweet, sweet Steve: deadly force, righteous passion, beautiful soul and infinite kindness locked in a body of a gentle giant.

“Thank you,” you muttered into his shirt and you could hear the smile in his voice when he responded, arms tightening just a fraction.

“Any time.”

You felt your lips curl up in a smile too, allowing yourself to bask in the goodness he was. Strong embrace, but kind. Almost too hot to touch, like a sun, but somehow still feeling like sunshine instead. Lips soft as they touched your hairline, fingers gently running through the length of your hair-

You stiffened. It felt too good; it felt like what you wanted but didn’t actually have. Steve Rogers did not kiss you; not your cheek, not your lips, not your forehead or the crown of your head.

Or at least he never had before.

“Steve?”

His smile was a little bashful as he retreated, his hand sliding down your hair, holding your chin in gentle hold you could easily escape should you want to. But you didn’t. Why would you when his thumb caressed your cheek, eyes firmly holding your gaze even as his smile was slightly shaky?

You didn’t dare to stop whatever this was; because this was what you wanted. Whether this was Steve giving into the game only or anything else, you’d take it. Because you didn’t start it, you didn’t force him into something you wanted. He initiated it; he held you as if you were something precious all on his own. If this behaviour expired in a few minutes, well. At least you would have a sweet memory to cherish, wouldn’t you?

“I’ve been thinking of you.”

Your eyes must have been wide – even ridiculously so – at the admission, your heart like a thunder in your chest and in your ears. You… certainly you must have misheard. You must have misinterpreted what he was trying to say. That was not right. Was it?

“…you have?”

His smile widened, eyes full of good-natured amusement. “I’m always thinking of you, Shines. I’m honestly surprised I’m keeping it so subtle that you are this shocked by the revelation.”

You licked your suddenly dry lips. You must have breathed in something. You had too much to drink. Tony sneaked some edibles into the refreshments – yes, that had to be it.

But then the even more rational part of your brain chimed in: you could never dream up something as detailed. And Steve would have been immune to the drugs. He hadn’t drunk too much of the Asgardian liquor from Thor’s flask either.

You were both perfectly sober at this moment – as insane and surreal as it felt. Did Steve really…? You swallowed the slightly hysterical giggle trying to claw its way up your throat.

“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t make fun of this, would you?”

Steve’s eyes grew serious even as they remained kind.

“No. I wouldn’t,” he assured you, the slightest hint of offence in his tone. “You’re just… you’re everywhere. I try to focus on work, but you’re always on my mind. That smile, those pretty eyes. This… this drive and passion you have and turn it into hard and good work and kindness. Those gorgeous, gorgeous lips…”

You licked again them on instinct, not missing the fact that Steve’s gaze flickered down at the motion.

No way. No way.

You had hit your head. This was a fever dream, this… this was all you wanted and needed, it couldn’t possibly become true all of sudden. Right?

But if this was a fever dream, you might as well enjoy it. If it was reality, even the better. Because Steve Rogers was serious in matters of heart – he was most definitely not pranking you. So if he was saying he had been thinking about you, you had no reason to doubt him.

There rarely ever was a reason to doubt Steve Rogers.

“I… I think about you too,” you reluctantly admitted, his lips suddenly so, so close you could feel his breath when he spoke only one word in response.

“Good.”

The first touch to your lips was nothing but tentative; nothing but temptation and yet everything you could ever want. His hand cradled your face like precious porcelain and his kiss was like one of an artist asking his muse to allow him into her favour. Warm and soft; his lips were as soft and gentle as you had always thought they would be. The tender brush of his fingertips to your face however made your first kiss all the sweeter, as did his smile and the sparkle in his eyes when he released your lips. The giddy feeling burst inside your chest with intensity you couldn’t possibly contain.

“Yeah, I’m… I’m gonna have to agree with good,” you whispered; and before you could feel silly, Steve’s low chuckle echoed in the limited space, his thumb tapping your lips.

“Yeah.”

That was the only warning you received before his mouth were back on yours, letting you taste that smile of his; his arms, still around your waist, pulled you closer against the hard planes of his chest, the sensation reminding you that you could in fact too do more than simply lay your hand on him. He appreciated your initiative with a content hum, the vibration against your lips sending pleasant shivers down your spine and into your belly. When he deepened the kiss, his touch on you growing firmer, angling your head to his liking, you felt like you could melt from the inside, all nerves on the most beautiful fire.

Your startled sound when your back bumped into the wall of the closet drowned in Steve’s mouth, your parted lips but an invitation for him. The sensations were quick to rise into your head like a heady wine and suddenly only seven minutes in whichever alternate reality you felt as if you had entered seemed unfairly short. Your fingers flexed in the material of Steve’s shirt, his large palm sliding to your hip and squeezing. His hips rocked ever so slightly against yours and the semi-hard bulge pressing against your core had you whimper his name just as his lips moved to your jaw.

“Love hearing my name like this from your lips, Shines,” he whispered like a secret into your skin, teeth grazing your sensitive flesh and nearly causing your knees to buckle. I’ll say it as much as you want, you wanted to say, the words stuck in your throat, only a breathy Steve coming out again, much to his apparent delight. “That’s it. Wanna hear it more… but not here.”

The flash of a rationality was brief; before it could take, his lips were back on yours and you felt yourself falling, leaning into his touch, hands wandering over his exquisite body, hips rutting forward at the beautiful, beautiful groan your touch elicited from him.

I did that. He wants me, he wants me like this. I want him. I need him.

The simple thoughts occupied your brain, a last portion of coherency you managed as his palm slid to your ass with purpose and pressed you against his hardness in a promise of what was to come. You decided that you could die a happy woman right there and that you needed his mouth on your more than you needed oxygen; you grabbed onto his face, pulling his lips back to yours, rewarded by a deep kiss and both of his hands grabbing your hips, fingers digging into your flesh with a little too much vigour.

You succumbed to the pleasure of his touch, head spinning, the world passing by in a blur.

It didn’t matter how you got into his room next; it didn’t matter, not when his hands were on you again, an absurdly polite can I? as his dextrous fingers slid the strap of your dress off your shoulder, a kiss to every inch of the newly revealed skin, leaving nothing but hunger for more in their wake.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” he praised as he mouthed at your skin, the new endearment causing your heart to tremble, stomach fluttering pleasantly. “The times I imagined this, imagined you… turn around, Shines.”

You’d swear that you would let Steve Rogers get away with murder; but asking you to turn away from his hot lips, that was toeing the line of insanity.

“Steve-“

“Shhh… I’ve got you,” he cut of your protests, strong hands simply spinning you around.

He rewarded you for the lack of resistance by placing his hand over your stomach, skin hot even over the thin fabric, pressing you back against his chest and his more than evident arousal, lips attaching to the column of your neck, sliding the other strap of your dress down. Instinctively, you leaned your head back, exposing your throat to him, a small but sharp nip of teeth sending a fresh wave of arousal into your core.

Long fingers slid up your throat, turning your head so his lips could meet yours again, demanding and yet so giving, hand inching from your belly down your thigh, toying with the hem of your dress and causing your breath to hitch.

God, you needed him. You wanted him in every way possible, but if this was what came before he’d take you out, you had zero problem with that. You needed to feel him.

The please escaping your newly freed lips sounded almost pathetic to your ears, but Steve clearly disagreed with your assessment.

“Oh sweetheart, you sound so pretty like this… and look at you,” he rasped, nudging you to actually look ahead, only for you to realise you were now facing the tall mirror of his closet, gaze setting on your own face, dominated by the kiss-swollen lips and pupils blown up by lust. “Gorgeous… and you’ll look even more beautiful when you’re coming apart for me. First on my fingers and then…”

You shuddered when his fingers finally slid under your skirt, caressing the lace of your thigh-highs, chest vibrating against your back with an appreciative hum. Your gaze strayed to Steve’s face, only to find his eyes laser focused on your face in the mirror, flashing darkly when his fingertips found the soaked fabric of your panties and pressed.

���So wet for me, Shines. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. Can’t wait to make you mine… you want that, don’t you?” he whispered, your lips parting wordlessly and at the very moment, he pushed the offending fabric to the side and dipped his index finger in your slick. He stroked a few times, coating his fingers in your essence and entered you with two with laughable ease. You pushed your hips forward on instinct, already needing more.

“Steve, oh god-“

“Fuck, look at you,” he rasped, free hand pressing your back to his front, hardness digging into our ass. “I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…”

Vainly wriggling against his strong hold because that was exactly what you wanted, you caught his smile in the mirror, his lips pressing softly against your temple as his fingers begun pumping in and out of your tight channel, stealing the breath from your lungs. Resigned and secretly thrilled by his dominance, you leaned against his chest, letting your head fall back against his strong shoulder, praying he’d give you more soon.

Instead, he pulled his fingers out altogether, painting your inner thighs with your slick, stepping back, leaving you cold and empty.

“St-“

His hand landed gently on your shoulder, his other hand easily sliding the zip of your dress down your back, letting it fall to the ground. Standing in front of the mirror in nothing but your stockings, soaked panties and lace bra, you shuddered under Steve’s hungry gaze; but at the same time, the adoration and admiration shining from his gaze even made your stomach flip and stopped your hands from self-consciously covering yourself at least a bit.

You weren’t shy. You weren’t ashamed of your body; but goodness, Steve’s eyes trailing the length of it, taking in every inch of bare skin and appreciative of how the fabric hugged the parts still covered made you feel like a goddess. A muse.

His gaze was hypnotic as his eyes met yours in the mirror again, his smile soft before it earned a lustful edge.

“You’re a piece of art, Shines…” He stepped back to you, lips attaching back to your neck and his fingers pushed the panties down and let them slide down your legs, hand sprawling over your pubic bone and teasing your core with his fingers again. “And I’m going to appreciate that in every way I know… but you’re gonna watch. I wanna watch you as you fall apart for me, and I want you to see how beautiful you look when I make you mine. Can you do that, sweetheart?”

You didn’t think. You nodded at the promise of pleasure, instantly rewarded by three fingers stretching you, one of your hands landing on his wrist to keep him inside, the other grabbing at his head behind you. You felt his smile against your neck before he sucked on your skin, setting a punishing pace, this time letting you meet his advances. The sight of his large hands over you was insanely erotic; his size and strength captured in a repetitive picture, your muscles contracting as you tried to encourage him to give your more. The pleas seamlessly blending with his name were falling from your lips as the pressure inside you built and built, the wicked curl of his fingers nearly having you reach for the stars.

“Oh my god, oh my god, Steve-“  

“Watch, sweetheart,” he reminded you feverishly, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by his blown pupils, dark, pleased and unabashedly on you taking his fingers one moment, on your face contorted with pleasure next, the sheer hunger in his gaze aimed at you only adding fuel to the heat in your abdomen.

You tried to keep your eyes on your pair, you truly did, just to please him, just to gain more. It earned you a whispered praise to your ear, a sucking kiss on your throat and circling motions on your clit.

That had you were done for. Your eyes fluttered close as you clenched around Steve’s fingers with a breathless cry, ecstasy exploding inside you and lighting your body on fire.

You could feel Steve’s burning gaze on your still, but he didn’t push you again, didn’t deny you just because you didn’t give him what you couldn’t at the moment, too wrapped in your bliss. Of course, he didn’t. He was still Steve; much filthier than you imagined, but still himself. Warm and safe, holding you close when his motions slowed down, prolonging your pleasure, still supporting your weight when your legs nearly gave out. Chuckling silently with an adoring soft kiss to your jaw when you breathed out a thank you, thinking about the fact he caught you, probably sounding as if you were thanking him for absolutely ruining you with his fingers only, not so subtly showing you that you might not survive when he’d turn it up a notch and actually took you.

“You’re beautiful, doll,” he whispered into your hair, carefully pulling out his fingers as not to hurt you. “Even more beautiful that I imagined.”

You shuddered, unable to respond with words, turning around and chasing his lips instead. He obliged and kissed you sweetly, wrapping his arms around you close, only now having you realize he was still fully clothed himself. And that the way his had cock pressed against his slacks must have been painful at this point. For that reason alone – that he put your pleasure before his, as you knew he would – you would sink to your knees in an instant if your core wasn’t already throbbing for him.

“I want you,” you said against his mouth, revelling in his smile and the playful nip on your lower lip he graced you with upon your admission.

“Good. Because I need you. I need to see those pretty lips parted for me and unable to speak anything but my name when I fill you up so well you’ll never even think about another man again,” he said slowly, letting every heavy syllable sink into your skin and have your already racing heart nearly give out – and letting your lips loose.

“Yes. Please.”

When you suddenly found yourself in the air, held firmly in his arms and carried to the bed, you couldn’t find the shame in you to be bashful about your needs.

Because when he sunk into you and delivered on his promises, you felt like you entered another plane of existence. When his hands grabbed onto you, his body an art piece you could feast your eyes on and touch, you suddenly understood his need for a mirror, for a glimpse from every angle, the absolute beauty of your bodies together as one, of seeing him lose himself to pleasure of his own.

His chants of endearments, praise and mine echoed in your ears, your lips indeed only remembering to speak his name, whisper it and scream it. When he lifted you to your high two more times, filling you with his spent to make you his indeed, you knew that you would be his forever; you had been for a long, long time.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…”

“Yours, I am yours.”

Blinking your eyes open, you slowly realized you never knew darkness could feel so violent to your eyes. Steve’s deeply concerned gaze was firm on you, frown settled in his brows, both hands on your biceps holding you as if you were about to pass out any second.

His relieved breath brushed over your face, shoulders sagging.

“Thank god, Shines. I was starting to get worried. Are you alright? It’s like you went to a completely different place for a moment there.”

Why were you standing? You had been just lying down, the heat of Steve’s skin seeping into yours from your back and his arm wrapped around your middle as you had fallen asleep.

“What?” you rasped, feeling the ghost of the soreness in your throat as you nearly lost your voice having screamed his name. You blinked again as the image of his beautifully red parted lips trembling with your name flickered in front of you, disappearing just as fast – replaced by him growing worried by the minute.

In a closet. You were in a closet. The sound of idly chat and chuckles dimmed by the walls of the closet reached your ears. The party was still in a sleepy swing; a stupid game was still on.

The realization was like a bucket of icy water dumped on your heated body, all-consuming confusion swallowing all your thoughts.

But… how? You--- that wasn’t- you had been to Steve’s room. He had—- he had kissed you, right here, a dream coming true when he admitted he was still thinking of you and was ready to act on it, his hot soft lips, his hands, deliciously long thick fingers, wickedly dextrous as they sneaked between your legs, opened you up for his--- he had stretched you so good, in every way imaginable, his gaze so dark as he watched you both in the mirror, so sweetly and devilishly delighted at filling you up to the brim, making you his-  

“Okay, that’s it, Shines. We’re out of here-”

“No!” you blurted out, horror seizing you at the mere thought of coming out to the light right now. With you face flushed; with your core painfully empty and slick even as the aftershocks of your orgasms, having felt so real, turned from echo of pleasure to mortifying all-consuming shame. “No, no, it’s fine! I’m fine. I just… I must have had too much to drink and zoned out.”

“You didn’t drink that much,” Steve opposed swiftly, his gaze so unnerving, and could he just stop, stop looking at you like he cared, so sweet and nice and so frustratingly not yours even if the affection in his gestures felt all the same as in whatever fucked-up dream experience you just had just been through. “We should-“

“Please, don’t-- they’re never gonna let us live this down if we bail,” you argued lamely, unconvincing even to your own ears, feeling tears burn in your eyes and desperately trying to stop them from showing.

“Fuck that. It’s just a stupid game.”

‘Fuck, look at you. I can’t wait to see you take my cock. You’ll be as pretty as a picture…’ echoed in your ears, so crystal clear you would have sworn it had happened – but what other evidence did you need that it was just a wild creation of your mind?

Steve didn’t love you. Steve didn’t want you this way. It had never happened. You were still in this closet in the dark, blinded by the light his persona, this time annoyed since the light only hurt your eyes.

And you heart. Your stupid little foolish heart.

“…yeah. Yeah, just a stupid game. Just… so so stupid,” you muttered, no longer talking about the game – and unable to stop the tears from coming anymore.

You laughed bitterly, understanding nothing, but not caring, even more irked at the alarmed expression on Steve’s face when he noticed the few glistening drops rolling down your cheeks.

“Shines… what is it? What can I do to make it better?”

His hands, having been burning a brand onto your biceps, shifted, one caressing your arm, the other rising to your face; and you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t take the touch, not when it meant less than what you wanted and needed, not when his fingertips brushed your cheek as if it was something precious to him – not when you knew it wasn’t.

You stepped back out of his reach hastily, your back hitting the wall; but not without catching the flash of hurt on his face when you rejected the affection and comfort he was offering.

“I’m sor-“ The words died in your throat, the sudden almost electric shift in the air making your hair stand on end.

As fast as if you snapped your fingers, Steve was no longer looking at you.

In fact, he wasn’t looking at anything.

Your stomach dropped.

“…Steve?”

Your whisper was tentative, but your step forward was not. Heart thundering in your chest, your eyes roamed his suddenly expressionless face. What the hell was happening?

Gulping, you reached out for his hand with yours; but as you squeezed, his hand remained limp by his side.

“Steve, can you hear me?”

Frustration and shame swiftly forgotten, your fingers slid to his wrist, feeling for his pulse. It fluttered under your touch like a hummingbird; but with how fast your own heart was beating, it might have been that you could feel your own.

You went to a completely different place for a moment there, you recalledhis words, real words, right after you found him observing you with concern rather than pulling you to his bare chest after an intense session of fucking.

Whatever had happened to you, be it blamed on alcohol or anything else, was clearly happening to him now. That or you accidentally triggered some kind of a flashback with the way you had reacted. If you had, you’d never forgive it yourself; but you’d have time to feel like an asshole later. Now, Steve needed your help. Fast.

Except you had no idea what was actually taking place in here, let alone how to solve it.

“Yeah, fuck this game.”

You were not going to stay here another second. Not when Steve, sweet kind Steve who deserved the world, was stuck in some strange trance you might have caused.

You were just about to bang on the door of the closet with all your might when a gasp for air had your head snap back to Steve so quickly you almost gave yourself a whiplash.

Your hands were on his arms to steady him before you could think about it twice. Relief flooded your body when his gaze unmistakably found yours, even if he stared at your wide-eyed, clearly rattled by whatever had just happened.

“Shines?” he rasped, blinking a few times as if to adjust his sight to the darkness again, following the lines of your arms to where you were holding onto him with confusion. You swiftly dropped your hands, his frown only deepening at that.

“Sorry. Are you okay?”

“I--- I think so?”

The uncertainty in his voice and the suddenly unreadable emotion in his face made a lump grow in your throat.

“Yeah, the fact that this sounds more like a question than an answer really tells me you were right,” you stated, feeling small as you saw Steve had trouble finding his footing. As his friend, you had the privilege to see him vulnerable more often than the general public, but that didn’t mean the fact he seemed clueless and slightly lost now was still unsettling. “We should get out of here, right now. You were staring blank ahead for at least a minute. You really scared me, Steve.”

His eyebrows shot up as he learned that was what happened.

“I was…? That’s what-- you scared me too. You were staring into space before too... What happened to you in that time?” Steve queried, gently despite obviously being affected himself. “Do you… do you remember any of it?”

You let out a small distressed noise, heat of shame flooding your body all over again.

Yeah, no. You were not going to tell him what exactly happened, regretfully only in your head.

You rarely lied so blatantly, less so to Steve, but these were desperate times. You’d rather keep at last some of your dignity.

You licked your lips. “I… I just zoned out. And then suddenly you were here, asking if I was sure I was okay. You?”

His eyes searched your face for a moment as if he could sense your lie – or at least lack of complete honesty. Yet, he didn’t press, swallowing loudly instead and giving you a shaky smile.

“…yeah. Yeah, same. That was… strange.”

No kidding. You believed him losing consciousness the way he had was strange indeed.

Except when you zoned out, you dreamed of a world where Steve railed you into oblivion while watching you both in a mirror. Until now, you thought that shoving you against a wall and hauling you up in those enormous arms and railing you like that would be more than enough to satisfy your cravings, but apparently you were wrong. But never mind that, right? You could be flexible… flexible enough, in more ways than just one. God knew sex with a man as fit as Steve might require some stretching.

You licked your lips again, mouth feeling dry at the memory. And yet. It wasn’t all a memory. He still was so close, watching so intently. Almost as if… no.

You laughed without a trace of humour.

“Yeah, well, maybe Stark laced the walls with something when he was closing the door-“ your voice trailed off, eyes growing wide as you entertained the wild thought. “Actually, you know what, I wouldn’t even be surprised.”

Honestly, it would be a perfectly plausible explanation. In fact, you wanted that to be the explanation; it shifted the blame. You and Tony could share the blame for the inappropriate images still flashing in your mind at least.

Not to mention that theorizing was the most welcomed distraction you could get in the tiny space growing hotter by the minute, full of Steve’s masculine scent seeping into your skin and making your underwear even damper by the second.

“Hm…” Steve hummed, intrigued, his concern melting into outrage. “Loki suggested the game and made the closet. Whatever happened could be on him.”

You frowned at the implication, instinctively protective of the god of mischief; Tony was the kind of guy who would pull this kind of shenanigans using precisely the fact Loki might end up being blamed while he’d laugh his ass off.

“Tony didn’t exactly protest, maybe he just jumped at the chance.”

“Hold on a second… do you think they would team up? To deliver some sort of an advanced Halloween prank?”

Your first instinct was to say no. The thought was absurd. Loki and Tony tolerated each other at best, Tony being one of the people having the hardest time forgiving Loki for the destruction he had once caused… when it suited him. Other times… well.

“I’m…” you hesitated, “I’m not sure, actually. But I know I’m not laughing.” For sure.

Steve face was serious as he observed you, worry creeping into his expression again – you only hoped he forgot all about your earlier outburst, even as you were aware that was very unlikely.

“Can’t say I do. Once we’re out, this game is over.”

“Yeah, good idea,” you agreed instantly. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”

He seemed a little flushed, a little shell-shocked still. Then again, you imagined you did too. At least you hoped you did; you hoped Steve couldn’t read you like a book… and you hoped Wanda was smart enough not to enter your mind while you were in here.

Oh god, Wanda.

“Yeah… but that’s only cause it’s not a terrible imposition to be here with you of all people,” Steve said lightly, a ghost of a genuine smile curling up his lips, an unvoluntary smirk passing over yours at his choice of words.

“Well, I’m honoured not to be a terrible imposition to you, Captain,” you sassed, unable to stop the warmth spreading in your chest. “I suppose there are worse people to get stuck with.”

“Such a compliment,” he threw back readily, eyes twinkling. Minutely – and you would swear it – his gaze flickered to your lips.

You heart started racing. You only imagined it. There was no way. Was there? Or…?

“Shines, I… there’s something I think I should tell you,” Steve said slowly, voice turning surprisingly soft.

You blinked, the feeling of déjà-vu hitting you like a train. You had to be dreaming again. There was no way he said those words, not so tenderly, not-

The door opened so suddenly you had to squint against the flood of light; light as harsh as the truth, overtaking all of your senses.

You stumbled out of the tight space with a deep breath, the colder air sobering you up fast.  Whatever Steve was about to say, it didn’t matter; it was probably your mind playing tricks on you again and if it wasn’t, it was probably just words of consolidation he came up with at the spot, an attempt to sooth whatever had bothered you before. Nothing more.

Because whatever you had fantasied about in the closet, it was just that: a fantasy. True, one you weren’t aware you had, but a fantasy nonetheless.

Steve had long moved on from asking you out two years ago. Whatever could have been, you had missed your chance then; he was just being friendly. He tried to offer comfort, because that was what he did. Even when you hurt him by your rejection of it, even when he was rattled himself by whatever he had experienced, he tried to comfort you again what could be two minutes later, because that was what good friends did.

Not a terrible imposition – that was what he said, after all. Even as you knew he probably chose the words on purpose to distract you and amuse you, it was not exactly a declaration of love. There was nothing but friendship between you, not from his side and that meant you would keep it that way unless you were ready to risk it all.

Which was going to be never.

As Steve firmly announced that the game was over, contrary to the booing from several Avengers, you wondered what it would take to rename the stupid activity to Seven Minutes in Hell.

Part 2

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Thank you for reading 🥰 I hope you had fun! Leave feedback if you have the energy and time, we love interaction in this house💕

I suppose this is where you could end it, but you won't find the what the heck actually happened and how - and what will happen next 👀 I hope to post part 2 soon since it's almost done 🎃 If you enjoyed and wish to be tagged, let me know :)

Prompt: 7 Minutes in… Where?: You know the game. Only when you and your significant other are locked in the closet for 7 minutes, you’re transported somewhere else.

Many thanks for Jamie for hosting this challenge and stirring this sleepy fandom to life 🥰

[mvltixcc]

Girls Like Girls - Robin Buckley X Cheerleader!Reader

Summary: Robin has a crush on the new girl in town. Y/N is also a new member of the cheer squad, which means Robin sees her all the time at games and other school events. Unfortunately, Robin is put in a tough situation. She's scared to talk to her because the cheerleaders have a reputation of being mean girls and she fears that Y/N may not feel the same. Little does Robin know that Y/N does not appear as she seems. Y/N becomes best friends with Eddie, which seems unlikely at the surface due to different social circles. This leads to rumors of course and word spreads like wildfire here at Hawkins, which then makes Robin's feelings even more confusing. After hanging out with Steve and the gang, Robin starts to see a different side to Y/N. Will they end up together or will they just remain friends?

Word Count: 1.3k

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“You know what Buckley, if you’re gonna criticize the way I do my job why don’t you just do it yourself.” Steve said jokingly, handing Robin a vhs tape and headed back to the counter. 

“It’s not my fault you don’t know anything about movies.” She chuckled as she put the movies away. 

“Well you have fun with that, I’m gonna go man the register.” Steve said as he continued to walk away from his friend. Robin continued to put away the tapes, a few people came in here and there but it was mostly dead on this particular Friday night. Which was odd, all things considered. It was around 8 o'clock when a group of people had walked in. 

“Welcome to Family Video, let me know if you need help finding any-, oh great here we go.” Steve said as the group walked in. “What?”  Robin asked, as she was restocking the candy display. She stopped in her tracks for a moment, looking up from her spot. “Oh uh hey there.”  Robin stammered.

“Hi Robin!” Y/N said excitedly. Robin had a hard time putting words together. You usually came here at the same time every Friday to pick out a movie. Robin almost thought you weren't coming because it had gotten so late. But there you were, standing in front of her in your cheer uniform. 'Practice must have gone late." Robin thought to herself. She stood from her spot to get a better look at you. ‘God she looks so pretty.’ She thought. A few people walked in the store, causing a slight breeze to head in your direction. She caught a scent of your perfume. She closed her eyes for a moment as she took in the smell, it was sweet and gentle. It smelled of vanilla. “Are you gonna pick a movie or what Y/N?” Eddie interrupted, bringing Robin out of her thoughts.

“Yeah yeah yeah, just give me a minute you goose.” Y/N turned to her friend and said jokingly. She walked over to the movies and went section by section to find the right one. 

“Okay let's not destroy the display guys.” Steve said dreadfully as he walked over to the rest of the Hellfire club trying to clean up the mess of his hard work he had done earlier. 

“Boooo, you’re no fun Harrington.” Gareth had mocked. Steve picked up the last item, sarcastically laughing back the comment. “I’m fun, I’m Steve Harrington for god sakes.” He muttered under his breath as he walked back behind the counter. 

Robin watched you as you pondered for the right film. You had gone aisle by aisle with no luck. Then suddenly you had picked up a movie and scrunched your nose as you had inspected it. Robin felt a smile creep upon her face, she couldn't help but look down in hopes you or anyone else could see her. 

“Now why are you making that face?” Eddie questioned as you held up the movie to show him why you had said expression written upon your face. It was a copy of My Bloody Valentine.

“What about it?” Eddie continued to question. 

“Do you see what section we’re in!?” Y/N proclaimed, pointing to the sign that had said ‘romance’. 

“Oh god are you gonna make us watch a girly flick? Sam made us watch one of those last week, okay we don't need a repeat of that!” Eddie groaned. 

"I can hear you, you know!" Sam stated from across the store.

“No you goose, this movie is in the wrong section.” She laughed walking over to the counter to check out the film.

“Did you guys find everything alright?” Robin asked as she scanned your items. “Yeah we found everything okay.” Y/N said getting her money out of her wallet. “That's not true, this was in the wrong section.” Eddie stated pointing to the movie.

Robin groaned, “Damn you Harrington.” 

“What is this pick on Steve day?!?” Steve had proclaimed. 

Robin finished checking you out, she couldn't help but admire how beautiful you looked under the light. She was soon interrupted from pondering as you had said your goodbye’s, waving and flashing a small smile to Robin. She had waved back and gave the same smile in return, but that soon faded as she saw Eddie put his arm around your waist as your group walked out of the store. Robin let out a sigh and hunched over the counter, letting her head fall into her hands.

“You okay?” Steve asked his friend, giving her a small nudge. 

“Yeah I’m fine.” Robin said, picking her head up and brushing the hair out of her face. “Yeah that’s a load of bullshit and you know it.” Steve said, sitting up on the counter. “You like her don’t you?” He questioned.

“Does it really matter? She’s with Eddie, she’s not interested in girls.” Robin stated, messing with the string coming off of her sweater. Steve couldn’t help but feel sad for his friend. He couldn't imagine how hard it is for her to try and find someone during times like this. I mean this is the 80’s and a small town in Indiana for crying out loud. “Have you even asked her?” He questioned.

“Oh yeah let me just go up to the most beautiful woman ever and just say ‘wow nice weather we’re having here, oh hey by the way do you like to kiss girls?’ Do you know how stupid that sounds?!” Robin got nervous just thinking about it and when she got nervous, she rambled.

“Well don’t talk about the weather with her for starters.” Steve chuckled.

“You know what I mean dingus!” Robin said, giving her friend a slight shove. 

“Look, you won't know unless you ask, who knows maybe she likes you back? You thought that she was mean and scary because of her being a cheerleader, you were wrong about that weren’t you?” Steve stated, he tried to remain hopeful for Robin. He wanted his friend to be happy. She shrugged, Robin’s hopes in finding a girlfriend became low after everything that had happened with Vickie. She was happy that the two could remain friends, but it still stung nonetheless. 

“Next time you see her, you should ask her to hang out. It’s a start to get to know her and to know for sure right?” Steve asked, now facing her. 

“I guess, I just don’t wanna go through that kind of heartache again.” Robin said, looking down at her feet.

“Well no matter what, I’ve got your back.” Steve said, bumping into Robin. This caused her to chuckle. 

“Alright alright, let's get back to work so we can get out of here. You owe me a bite to eat after this for making me clean up your mess of your so-called organization.” Robin laughed as she went to organize the returned tapes.

“You’re never gonna let that go are you?” Steve asked. 

“Nope.” Robin yelled from the back.

Next chapter

[photonsorbit]

CarolMaria/StevePeggy Parallels

Alright, I’m making this post because it's SO insane that CarolMaria can have so many parallels to a canon ship and still be considered just friends especially when there's so much more depth to them than most couples in the MCU like come on... they lived together, they raised a child together!! I don’t even care for StevePeggy but I cannot stop thinking about this and I refuse to let this information go unacknowledged. So, let’s get into it!

Met while training to serve the U.S.

Peggy was assigned to Colonel Phillips’ training base where she met Steve, while Carol and Maria met at the Air Force Academy where they were roommates. During these times, they all faced discrimination from some of their colleagues. This led each pair to find comfort and understanding in their partners which helped them establish a deep connection with one another. 

Carol and Steve both risked their lives on a mission that resulted in them being presumed dead.

Steve crashed a plane into a field of ice to prevent Hydra from bombing the U.S. He stayed buried for 70 years, which prevented him from pursuing a relationship with Peggy.

While on a mission to save lives with Dr. Lawson, Carol crashed their jet into the ground following an attack from the Kree. In hopes of stopping them, she blew up the jet’s engine and absorbed the blast’s energy. Yon-Rogg took her to Hala where she spent 6 years away from her home. Carol eventually made her way back to Maria (YAYYY) but left soon after and didn’t come back for 30 years (BOOOO). Nonetheless, they still kept in contact, so a win is a win!

Both of these pairings worked together to save lives. 

In the First Avenger, Steve and Peggy worked together to defeat Hydra, whereas in Captain Marvel, Carol and Maria worked together to defeat the Kree. Like yesss, we love a couple who kicks ass together! 

Also, I think it’s important to note that in other universes, Peggy takes on the Captain America role and Maria takes on the Captain Marvel role. And best believe, I'm praying to god that Carol & Binary meet and fall in love or something! I'll take anything jUST LET ONE MARIA RAMBEAU LIVE!

Maria & Peggy both founded organizations related to the work of Carol & Steve. 

Maria created S.W.O.R.D., an agency dedicated to protecting earth from both extraterrestrial and extra-dimensional threats. I like to think that Maria & Carol worked together on some of these threats and fed each other information and maybe even met up to discuss them amongst doing other things together… who knows!

Peggy helped found S.H.I.E.L.D., a governmental counter-terrorism and intelligence agency tasked with maintaining both national and global security.

Steve & Carol both keep a photograph of their loved one close by.

Steve & Carol both visit their dying loved one.

In the Winter Soldier, Steve visits Peggy in the nursing home. Peggy has aged and is suffering from Alzheimer’s, which will eventually take her life, in contrast to Steve who still looks young and is immune to disease. 

In the Marvels, Carol visits Maria back at home. Maria has aged and is suffering from cancer, which will eventually take her life, in contrast to Carol who still looks young and is immune to disease. 

Can we just take a moment to appreciate how good Maria looks. She’s 60 something, dying from cancer, and STILL managing to serve face! Black don’t crack fr!!!

Last but not least, the similar lyrics in their songs.

In Captain Marvel, Carol & Maria sing karaoke to "Kiss Me Deadly." The lyrics go as following:

In Endgame, Steve & Peggy dance to "It's Been a Long, Long Time." The lyrics go as following:

In conclusion, CAROL AND MARIA WERE LOVERS NO ONE CAN CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE!!!! And if Steve can get his happy ending with Peggy then Carol needs to get her happy ending with Maria! Also, Nia’s initial pitch for the Marvels involved time travel which makes me wonder if Carol was gonna pull a Steve and travel back in time to be with Maria. Plus, in the audio commentary for the Marvels, Nia said she liked their connection so….. I'll just end on that.

[apomaro-mellow]

Prompt:

"I see you everywhere" but like I'm in denial and don't want to admit it's because I think about you all the time.

Will was the one to point it out, of all people. And of course, he did so innocently. Or rather, well-intentioned. Steve was pretty sure he said it on purpose. He could be just as much of a little shit as the others.

"Do you think about Eddie a lot?"

All Steve had said was "The chips and dip are for the club. The pretzels are for just Eddie."

It wasn't like he was thinking about him. It was just that the last time they had Hellfire at his house, Eddie had devoured the whole bag of mini pretzels. So sue Steve for being pre-emptive and getting him a bag for himself. He didn't buy it JUST for Eddie. He got two bags. But that one little comment got him thinking how Munson had inserted himself into Steve's life.

He was taking up space in his pantry. Steve knew he had at least one cassette in his car that Eddie had specially made to musically educate him. Some of Eddie's clothes were in his closet because the guy was messy and even though Steve washed them, he'd forget to retrieve them. When he and Robin had to prepare the Halloween picks for the store, he thought about Eddie's whole rant on how most horror was a reaction to whatever was going on in society at the time and how he AND Robin basically gave him a lecture on the subject. Who needed college when you had those two, right?

So honestly, maybe Steve did think about Eddie a lot. But that was only because the man was like water and had seeped into the cracks of his life. Like right now, he was driving up to the school, not to get Robin, or Dustin or anyone else, but Eddie. So that they could head into the next town over where Eddie's tattoo artist was.

"Miss me, Harrington?"

Steve scoffed. "I see you everywhere, man."

"Oooh, ominous. Like a ghost?"

"Yeah dude. You're that marshmallow ghost", Steve chuckled.

"Boooo, I don't wanna be the Stay Puft ghost. Poltergeist, that's me."

"You don't get to choose which kind of ghost you are to me."

He definitely didn't think about Eddie a lot. Considering his involvement and attachment, he thought about Eddie a perfectly normal amount.

[rogueddie]

idk why it's taken me so long to have the horrifying realization but... season 5 won't have steve and robin working a shitty job together will it... boooo 👎

[shieldofiron]

Steve with the face of a man who's been asked to wear a big white sheet and say boooo in bed before.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Destiny & Deliverance: Chapter 9

Destiny & Deliverance Masterlist ||| Dieter Bravo X OFC New as of 7/28/2023

SUPPORT YOUR CREATORS. REBLOGGING & COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED.

Series Rating: Explicit (18+)

Series Summary: Natalia Cohen is experiencing major life changes, beginning with leaving an emotionally abusive husband. She is learning how to navigate life on her own while dealing with high functioning anxiety, depression, and mild PTSD. Everything is looking up for her. She is a highly respected consultant for a major LA firm, has her best friend, Lauren, by her side, and is on her path to healing. Everything changes when she meets a handsome and broken stranger on a work trip. He turns out to be a well-known actor, with a heart-breaking past. They quickly develop a connection that will forever alter their lives. 

Warnings: Themes dealing with mental health, emotional trauma, alcohol use, and discussions about suicide. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn type of story. Read at your own risk.

Chapter Quote: “He says he’s a friend from New York.”

The next day, I had to go into the office for a few meetings with staff to catch up on where they were with their accounts. I was actually happy about this because I knew it would be a good distraction. I threw my blow-dried wavy hair up into a loose updo, applied a small amount of make-up, and I got dressed in a black pencil dress and blazer. Then headed out the door for my short commute.

Around eleven fifteen, my office phone rang. I heard my assistant, Kerrie, yell that it was Lauren. I picked the phone up.

“Don’t you ever get tired of talking to me?” I said as I answered.

“Don’t be silly. Also, I love your new assistant. I think we’re going to be besties. So, I was thinking…we should go grab some lunch.”

“Well, I’m happy you feel that way and it sounds like I need to tell her to ignore your number when it pops up.”

Lauren laughed.

“As for lunch, I don’t have enough time to go out. I have a meeting at 1:00.”

“Boooo. You suck. Do you need me to bring you anything?”

Before I could answer, Kerrie walked into my office, leaving the door slightly ajar. Her eyes were wide with a shocked look on her face. She was doing a small wave with her hands to get my attention.

“Hold on Lauren, what is it, Kerrie?”

“Umm, there is a gentleman here asking if you’re free for lunch?”

“A gentleman?” I said, confused. 

“He says he’s a friend from New York.”

“A friend from New York?” I said, still confused. 

She watched the realization set in on my face. I momentarily lost my words. She leaned over toward me and whisper-yelled, “Why didn’t you tell me you knew him!” Meanwhile, I could hear Lauren on the phone asking very loudly who was here. She had clearly pieced it together from the tone of her voice. 

I sat motionless, feeling my heart rate pick up. My breathing turned shallow as I broke out into a sweat. I shook my head from side to side and took a deep breath trying to pull myself together. 

“Get rid of him. I can’t, I have a meeting.” I said sternly. 

I heard Lauren shouting from the phone, “NO! What the hell are you doing! GO WITH HIM!”

Kerrie stood stunned, surprised at my answer. “I can reschedule it for you. It’s just Steve.”

“No. I can’t go.”

Kerrie didn’t move. 

“Is there a problem? Handle it please.” I said out of frustration. 

Lauren was still yelling nonsense on the phone while Kerrie just stared at me, shaking her head.

“I can’t tell him no,” she whispered with a stubborn look on her face.  

The door started to inch open further as Dieter slowly walked in, immediately noticing the phone a few inches from my ear. My eyes met his. He paused and mouthed “sorry” once he realized he was potentially interrupting something. Kerrie’s head swiveled back and forth between us, waiting for someone to say something. I could feel my face tighten and my brows draw together. I’m pretty sure I looked pissed more than anything, but it was actually pure panic. Dieter instantly looked beyond nervous. Lauren was still yelling on the phone, asking me what was happening. I was suddenly feeling over-stimulated between the three of them and couldn’t focus. I put the phone all the way back to my ear.

“Shut up. I’ll call you back.”

I could hear her telling me I better talk to him as I moved the phone away to hang it up. 

I looked away from him, lowering my head. I noticed my hands were starting to shake. I gripped the arm rest of my chair tightly in an effort to make them stop. 

“What are you doing here?” I said in a rather assertive tone, trying to keep it together. I glanced back up at him. He looked like he was about to say something, but snapped his mouth shut. My tone had taken him off guard. He glanced over at Kerrie, looking slightly panicked himself. 

“Mr. Bravo stopped in to see if you’re available for lunch.” 

I gave her a pointed look. 

“I have a meeting, so no, I can’t. I’m sorry.” I replied as I looked back over to him.

“Steve actually requested to reschedule it earlier this morning. I just haven’t updated your calendar yet.”  

My eyes darted back toward Kerrie. She gave me a wicked smile before continuing. 

“So, you’re actually free for the next two and a half hours.”

I exhaled, then touched the fingers of my right hand to the side of my right eye that had started to twitch. 

“Ok, thank you for that update, Kerrie. I guess I’m going out to lunch then. I’ll be back shortly.” My tone was clipped. I gave her a tight smile, dismissing her. She continued to give me a wicked grin as she walked out of the office, leaving Dieter and I alone. 

We sat in silence for a moment, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t know what to say to him. This whole situation had caught me off guard and I was not handling it well at all. Yet I still managed to notice how amazing he looked in his dark fitted jeans and black t-shirt. He had sunglasses hanging from the collar of his shirt.  

“I’m sorry, I probably should have called instead of just showing up.”

I continued to stare at him, unblinking. 

“I mean, I did try to call several times, but I chickened out and hung up on whoever answered.” he added, sheepishly.  

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding, reached down to grab my purse and phone, and walked toward the door.

“Come on. Let’s go,” was the only response I was able to give him. 

I walked down the hallway, noticing several of the ladies staring. 

“Don’t you all have work to do.” I said loudly, looking around as I walked through. They quickly pretended to busy themselves while giving sideways glances. 

Dieter was following behind me as we went toward the back exit to the staff parking area. When I pushed the door open, Aubrey stepped back from the outside of the door to let me exit. I walked out and her eyes immediately shot up to Dieter, then back to me with a questioning look. 

“I’m going out for lunch. I’ll be back at some point,” I said dismissively, walking past without really looking at her. I heard Dieter give a polite hello as he walked past, still following closely behind my brisk pace. 

I walked over to my vehicle, hitting the unlock button on the handle twice to unlock both doors, then we both got in. 

I started the car, then sat there for a moment and sighed. 

“I have a feeling I’m going to face an inquisition when I get back.”

Dieter let out a small laugh, but then stifled it, like he wasn’t sure if it was ok to laugh at it. 

“Did you have a place in mind you wanted to go to?” I asked him quietly. I stared out of the front window. Not really looking at anything. Trying hard to keep my breathing calm. 

“No. I mean I noticed a place down on the corner if you want to go nearby.”

“I’m not going there.” I said, still staring out the front window. I could feel him looking at me. I slowly turned my head to look at him, not exactly meeting his eyes. I couldn’t. 

“I know the owner. I got him fired from his previous place of employment, unintentionally. The company downsized on my recommendation. He doesn’t like me much.”

“Oh…it sounds like hanging out with you might be kind of dangerous,” he said, laughing nervously. 

He was trying to ease the tension, but I was so wound up, that wasn’t going to happen. I just gave him a small smile and put the car in reverse. 

I picked a small cafe about 10 minutes away that typically wasn’t very busy at this time of day. Lauren and I were regulars, so we usually got pretty good service. They let us sit out on the small back patio that was enclosed by tall hedges. We were the only ones sitting outside, which was probably a good thing, because I didn’t know what was about to happen. 

I reverted to old habits, ordering a Long Island Iced tea, water, and a salad with grilled chicken. I had a feeling that I was going to need some liquid courage to get through this conversation. Once we finished ordering and got our drinks, we were silent for a few minutes. Neither of us really knowing where to start. I could feel that my jaw was clenched, I could only imagine what my face looked like. He finally broke the silence. 

“Look, I’m sorry I just showed up. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“How did you even know where I worked?”

“Google.”

“I never even told you my last name.”

“I.. I saw it on your security badge. I-It was on your nightstand. I swear I wasn’t snooping or anything.” 

I shook my head up and down, I had no argument with that. It has been out in plain view.

His hands caught my attention. They were bigger than I remembered, but the feel of them was still ingrained in my memory. He had the fingers on both hands tracing the grooves on the glass of his drink. He was obviously anxious too. Without thinking about it, my hand went up to my collar bone and started rubbing as I looked around. This was so fucking awkward. He broke me out of my thoughts by grabbing my hand and pulling it to the table. I looked at his hand sitting atop of mine, then pulled mine away gently, sitting it in my lap. 

“Did I do something to make you mad in New York? I don’t understand why you’re acting so pissed at me.”

I propped my elbows on the table, putting my fingers on either side of my temple, rubbing, with my eyes shut. I sat like that for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts before answering.

“I’m not mad at you. You did absolutely nothing wrong. I’m just…kind of on autopilot mode right now… trying to keep myself in check. You did catch me off guard showing up at my office. You’re the last person I expected to walk through that door today.”

I opened my eyes to look at him and our eyes met for the first time since leaving the office. I noticed the sadness was there again and he looked like he hadn’t slept well in some time. I felt even more guilt for treating him so badly today. I continued speaking.  

“I didn’t have time to prepare for this, so my anxiety kind of spiked on me because I didn’t know what to expect given everything that happened. This is just me trying to manage it. I actually feel like shit for not reaching out to you afterwards. I completely ghosted you; I know.” 

“Honestly, that makes me feel a lot better. The way you were looking at me when I walked in, I thought you wanted to rip my head off. I think I officially got the full dose of the ‘fucking scary’ side of you.” He chuckled at himself. I finally broke a smile too, which caused him to visibly relax some. 

“I’m sorry, I know, I really do need to work on that. My face kind of has a mind of its own though.” I shrugged. 

“So do you want to talk about why you ghosted me?”

“That’s a little more complicated…”

The waiter appeared at that time to drop off our food and refill our drinks. After he walked back inside, Dieter picked up the conversation.

“I’ll be the first to admit that whatever that was in New York freaked me out a little. I’ve never experienced something that…intense before. Honestly, when I didn’t hear from you initially, I was kind of relieved.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, trying to figure out where this was going. He noticed the look on my face.

“BUT, after a few days, I was actually a little hurt by it. I felt like we…I dunno…maybe it's a delusion, but I felt like we connected. You know what I mean?”

I continued to stare at him, trying to digest what he was saying. My face giving nothing away. He looked down at his glass before he continued.

“At the same time though, I’m not sure I’m in a place that I can process and deal with whatever that was. At least I definitely wasn’t at the time. I felt like my fucking soul had been ripped out of me and laid bare in front of you. It was a lot for me and something I just wasn’t prepared for or have ever experienced.”

He understood it more than I ever thought he could. He felt it too. I could feel my chest tightening as my eyes fought to hold back the tears that wanted to fall. I took a deep breath reaching up to grab one of his hands away from his glass. He relaxed further and I immediately felt better as a result. 

“Dieter, I…I actually get it. You put that into words better than I ever could have. I felt the same way. It was…overwhelming and scared me too. I think that’s the biggest reason I just left it all in New York. I couldn’t process it. I was seriously so fucked up at that point from my marriage, I didn’t even know who I was anymore. And to be clear, hooking up with random people is not something I have ever done before, so I was a little shocked and embarrassed at myself for that.” 

“I was a little shocked at myself too because that isn’t something I do on the regular either. I was worried you thought I was a big man whore after that.”

“Why, because you’re currently one of the biggest celebrities in the world right now and could have any woman you wanted at any time?”  

He sucked in air between his teeth and gave me a tight smile. 

“So, you figured that out huh?” He laughed nervously. 

“Hard to miss your face plastered all over billboards.”

“I’m sorry, I should have been honest about that. I was kind of thrilled by the idea of someone not knowing who I was. It helped me feel a little more at ease with you.”

“I figured. I won’t hold that against you.” I smirked at him.

“So how are you doing these days,” he asked. 

“Well, I’m still kind of a mess, but I’m better than I was. I’m still working on things though.”

“Same.”

We sat in silence for a moment, both unsure of what to do with that information. I had to admit to myself that it was good to see him and good to know that he wasn’t mad at me. I watched him for a moment as he released my hand and started to shuffle his food around, my mind playing through all the scenarios this situation could lead to. I was more open to some of them than I would have thought. Dieter raised his head, giving me a questioning look.

“What’s going through that mind of yours right now?”

I gave a small laugh, “What isn’t?”

I leaned my head into my hand that was propped on the arm of my chair and shook my head, inhaling deeply. I wasn’t sure how to proceed. Dieter smiled back at me; he looked as deep in thought as I was. 

“How about we just start over? Try to forget about New York. Clearly neither of us are really in a place for anything too serious, but that doesn’t mean we can’t just be friends. Right?” he asked.   

“You’re seriously going to be able to forget about what happened in New York?” I asked with doubt in my voice and a small smile on my face. 

“Well, no. It’s impossible. Those images aren’t going anywhere, but I can behave myself and just be here for you. However you’ll have me.”

I laughed at him. At least he was honest. I wasn’t going to be able to get those images out of my head either. 

“Do you think we can really be ‘just friends’ after that?”

“Look, I know it sounds crazy, but I feel like you’re supposed to be in my life. It’s a feeling I can’t shake, and I think we can be good for each other. If it means it’s just as friends, then fine. I’m cool with that. I honestly didn’t expect anything more and I would love to have at least one friend that’s supportive of me getting my shit together.”  

“Alright, so we’re gonna do the friend thing then,” I agreed. Feeling a sense of relief and a little excitement at the thought of him being a constant in my life. He did have a way of making me feel more relaxed. He nodded in agreement.

“So can you text me your number now?” he asked with a smirk on his face and a playful glint in his eyes.   

“About that…I actually deleted your number as soon as I got on the plane in New York.” 

I covered my face with one of my hands, then gave him an apologetic look through my fingers. He feigned shock.

“I knew if I didn’t, I would’ve called you,” I added. 

“Damn, you are ruthless. You didn’t even give it a few days,” he said in disbelief as he shook his head at me. Then he reached over to pick up my phone, quickly held it up in front of my face to unlock it, then went to typing as I gave him a dirty look. 

“Excuse you.” I said as he started to laugh, eyes crinkling as he did so.   

“I’m putting my number in your phone again.” 

A few seconds later, his phone buzzed. 

“I’m also making sure I have your number this time. No more ghosting.”

“Oh, trust me, I can still ghost your ass if I wanted to,” I said laughing. 

“Somehow, I don’t doubt that.”

The remainder of our lunch was filled with jokes and laughter. It was almost like we picked up where we left off, minus the flirting and sex. I was acutely aware that this was meant to be a friendship and I wanted to be cognizant of that line. I couldn’t cross it again.

Once we finished eating, we drove back to my office. He walked me to the back entrance, then stopped.

“Is it ok to give you a hug?” he asked timidly. I laughed at him and nodded yes. He wrapped his arms around me completely, pulling me in close. His face was in my hair, and I could tell he inhaled deeply. I wrapped my arms around his back and buried my face in his neck, taking in his scent. We stayed like that for a minute, before he kissed the top of my head, then pulled away. Our actions always saying what our words wouldn’t. We had missed each other, more than either of us would like to admit. 

He smiled at me before turning to leave. “I’ll text you later this evening,” he yelled as he walked away. I watched him jog across the street to where his vehicle was parked. Once he reached his car, I went inside. 

When I walked in, Aubrey and Kerrie were standing in the reception area. They paused and looked at me. They had been watching us through the window. I could tell they wanted to ask me a million questions. I stared at them and rolled my eyes.

“He is just a friend. Don’t get any crazy ideas.”

“That hug lasted a little longer than socially acceptable for a friend,” Aubrey said with a smirk on her face. 

“He’s a friend I haven’t seen in a while,” I shrugged. 

From the looks on their faces, you could tell they didn’t believe me. 

“Anyway, I have things to do, so excuse me,” I said, walking to my office.   

My last few afternoon meetings dragged on painfully slow. Through all of them, Lauren was texting me, asking for updates. She was going to be mad that I made her wait all day. It was driving her insane.  

When I pulled into the driveway around five, Lauren was there waiting on me. I should’ve figured. I just laughed to myself and shook my head. I pulled into the garage as she got out of her car and followed me inside. I smiled at her and gave her a quick “hi” as she stared at me expectantly.  I didn’t say anything else as I walked inside and sat my things down, keeping my phone in my hand. I went to the kitchen and pulled one of those cold coffee drinks out of the refrigerator and offered her one. She was still staring at me expectantly and did not respond. 

“Can I help you with something?” I asked her, with a sarcastic tone.

“You have GOT to be kidding me. Come on, out with it! What happened?”

My phone pinged in my hand, and I glanced down at it without answering her. I chuckled, seeing the name that popped up. He didn’t list his number under his name. He put it under “Guy from the Bar”. I unlocked my phone to read his message, still ignoring Lauren.

DIETER: You home from work yet?

ME: I’m sorry, I am not sure which guy from this bar this is. Can you clarify? 

DIETER: You’re HILARIOUS. Figured I would get creative to make it harder for you to delete as soon as I was out of sight. 

ME: Now who’s the funny one…but to answer your question, yes, I’m at home. 

DIETER: Can I call you? I hate texting. 

ME: Yes.

I glanced up at Lauren who was looking at me like I had three heads. 

“What is happening right now?” she asked. I smiled and shrugged as I walked toward the table to sit down. My phone rang and I answered. 

“Hello mysterious stranger from the bar,” I said with a laugh. I could hear him chuckling and I felt it to my core. I was getting butterflies. 

“Hello. What are you up to?”

“I am sitting here with Lauren, who looks like she wants to choke me because she has no idea what’s going on.”

He laughed again while Lauren flipped me the bird as she sat down in front of me. 

“Who is that?” she mouthed to me. I waved my hand at her dismissively. She sat back in her seat, crossing her arms and eyed me grumpily.

“So, does Lauren know about me?” 

“Yes, somewhat. She knows we met in New York. She’s the one I was on the phone with when you came into my office today.”

Lauren smacked her hand on the table with force while saying, “I KNEW IT” very loudly. Dieter heard her and started laughing again. 

“That makes sense, I was wondering who you told to shut up.”

We both laughed at my earlier behavior. 

“So, what are you doing tomorrow evening? Want to hang out?” 

“Well, Lauren and I usually have dinner and hang out on Fridays.”

Lauren perked up, “Invite him over, I wanna meet him,” she whisper-yelled at me. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that or not. I gave her a warning look.

“What did she say?” he asked, chuckling.

“She wants me to invite you over to hang out with us. Do you think you can handle that? I’m warning you; she’s probably going to interrogate you.”  

“I think I can handle it. What time?”

“We usually eat around six, but you can come earlier if you want. She usually helps cook or just hangs out until it’s ready.” 

“Cool. I’ll do that. Can’t wait to meet Lauren. I think she and I will get along great.”

“Yeah, that’s my concern,” I said laughing. “You two better not gang up on me. I can see it happening already.”

They both laughed. 

“Well, I’ll let you go since you have company, but I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Can I bring anything?

“Just yourself.”

“Alright, text me your address. See you tomorrow.”

“Will do, bye.”

After I hung up, I sent him a quick text with my address. Lauren was still eyeing me.

“So are you going to tell me what happened? Clearly it went well.”

“Just so we’re clear, he and I are only friends. Starting over. So, no suggestive jokes about me and him ok? I don’t want this to be weird.”

“Just friends? Really? Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.”

She rolled her eyes at me and laughed. 

“What are you gonna wear tomorrow?” 

She was gauging my reaction. I shrugged. 

“I don’t know, something comfortable. Let’s keep things chill. I’m not trying to impress the guy. Pretty sure I already did that.”

I gave her a wicked smile at my joke. 

“Oh, you’ve got jokes now. Ok. I like the funny you. Keep those coming.”

My phone pinged with a text message and Lauren saw the name pop up. She started laughing. 

“Is that him?”

“Yes, he said that’s how he put his name in my phone so it would be harder for me to find and delete it as soon as he was out of sight.” 

She continued to laugh as I opened the message to check it. It was a screenshot of a map with directions. I stared at it for a minute, my brows knitting together, slightly confused. Another message came through. 

DIETER: You literally live four streets over from me. 

ME: No fucking way.  

DIETER: Apparently so. LOL

ME: That isn’t weird at all. 

Lauren was looking at my confused expression. I sat my phone down. 

“I don’t think I want to tell you this.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because you’re going to start going on about fate or whatever again.” 

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t going to let it go. I sighed, before giving a slight chuckle. 

“He lives four streets over from me.” 

“I can’t believe you all haven’t run into each other before now. I’m telling you, read the signs woman. The ‘powers that be’ have a plan.”

I shook my head, “Stop that.” 

I got up and started straightening up the kitchen some. I should probably give the rest of the house a quick once over, I thought. Lauren got a text as I was running through everything I needed to do. She stood up saying she had to go, mumbling something about having to close the shop that evening because somebody’s kid was sick. As she was leaving, she mentioned how she couldn’t wait to meet her new bestie tomorrow and was looking forward to giving me hell. I gave her the bird as she pulled the door shut behind her, cackling loudly. 

I spent the rest of the evening cleaning and prepping for the following day. I had to admit that I did feel nervous about him coming to my house. There was something so personal about him being in my space. You can tell a lot about a person from seeing where they live. I wondered what he would learn about me. 

Even though I tried to play it cool with Lauren about what I was going to wear, I was completely stressed about it. I finally settled on dark denim shorts, a white tank, with a loose fit light purple long-sleeved mesh top. It was casual, but cute. 

Around ten, I finally decided to call it a night and settled down in bed to watch some TV. Soon after, my phone pinged with a text message.

DIETER: Wanted to send you a quick good night message. Friends can do that, right? Can’t wait to see what you’re cooking for me tomorrow. 

I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. I wasn’t sure how well this ‘just friends’ thing was going to work out, given our history, but we needed it to. At least for now. 

ME: Pretty sure that is acceptable for friends to do…good night. Make sure you rest up. You’ll need it for the interrogation that is sure to come. 

He sent me back a thumbs up and a sleeping face emoji.

I laughed at him before setting my phone down. I set the TV timer and turned my nightstand light off. It didn’t take long before I was out.     

Next Chapter

Tag List: @rhoorl

[alwaysshallow]

🌙 🧟‍♀️ 🧚‍♀️ 🌝 (bo!!)

HI BOOOO

🌙 your zodiac (Sun, Moon, Rising)

leo sun, gemini moon, scorpio rising<3

🧟‍♀️ scariest thing that’s happened to you

i remember when I drove back from cemetery around 11 pm (because the next day was a holiday and I couldn't really visit my grandmas grave earlier) and this guy was following my car. literally looked like a junkie with empty gaze, started running after my car and I speeded to lose him lol. its a very small town that I live in, so everyone knows everyone, and I asked my dad if he knows who this guy is; he didn't. he basically told me that no one like this lives here and I was pretty startled lol. especially that i never saw him again and he seemed like a hallucination

🧚‍♀️ favorite characters of all time

natasha romanoff, tony stark, steve rogers, rachel green, derek morgan, emily prentiss, haymitch, finnick!! forgetting a few for sure

🌝 a show you would recommend to anyone

spinning out. deffo, and maybe uhhh agents of shield? such an underrated show

[counterculturecryer]

Ponyboy: Look! There’s this cool challenge where you show everyone the latest tag you used

Steve: cool, let’s check mine! it’s uh…#ponyboy is such a loser I hate him he sucks I wish soda would stop inviting him ponyboy hate club boooo

Ponyboy: ….

Steve: wait but see my next tag was “#haha”

[mirkwoodmunson]

moonie’s fic list #2

minors dni!

total fics: 6

updated: feb. 8, '23

12/16/22 -> eddie rescues reader; 950 words / fluff;angst;comfort

perfectlysunny02 said: hi! idk how i thought of this please don’t judge me but idk if you’ve ever watched twilight but she almost gets hit by a car and Edward saves her and then gaslights her and the entire time i was watching this scene i was like boooo eddie would neverrrrr. eddie’s the better edward Cullen🤣😭

12/17/22 -> eddie just wants to sit with reader; 795 words / comfort

simping-over-boys-with-trauma said: I have an Eddie comfort HC that's kinda self indulgent but what's new. So I work with kids (like toddlers). And sometimes, when I get home, I need to just sit in a dark, quiet room for a bit. I feel like Eddie would understand, but still struggle cause he's missed you allllll day, and now you wanna be alone?? So he'd promise to sit very quietly if you let him in the room with you.

12/21/22 -> steve harrington comfort special; 711 words / comfort

Anonymous said: So I don’t know if you write for steve or not but if you do, could you do a steve x sick reader please? I have the flu and I’m dying

12/22/22 -> eddie & wayne holiday blurb; 273 words / fluff

simping-over-boys-with-trauma said: [...] Do you think Eddie is a holiday-spirit kinda person? Or is he just waiting for it to be over?

02/07/23 -> where's my love; 1.8k words / hurt;comfort

Anonymous said: can i request something inspired by where’s my love - syml? maybe bubbly reader developed something traumatic after the s4 events and just blocked everyone in her life and eddie’s worry sick that they might never be themselves again and starts helping them and all that hurt/comfort cutie patootie. luv your work!! 😭💛

02/08/23 -> nutella and sprinkles; 680 words / fluff

ralph-penbury said: how do you think eddie would react to having a partner that always says shit like “i had a handful of rainbow sprinkles for lunch today” ,, like they’re the laziest ever, very chaotic in how they take care of themself, so eddie’s just like🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️please gOd —