#like Steve has to crane his neck up to talk to him

[imthursdaysyme]

Eddie my tall string bean

[hoe-for-hopper]

A Crush On Eddie

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 2 is HERE

WARNINGS: kind of a slow burn, unprotected piv, masturbation (f & m), drinking (reader is drunk, not during sex), vomiting (reader vomits)

Word Count: 4,983 (idk how that happened)

Summary: You've got a crush on Eddie Munson, so you drag your two best friends, Steve and Robin to Corroded Coffin's show. When Steve is too drunk to drive you home, Eddie offers.

A/N: I swear this was supposed to just be a one and done Eddie fic, but oops I got carried away and there's gonna be a part 2 (steddie) sometime in the next few days. Partially unedited, ends on a cliffhanger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SMUT BELOW THE CUT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You, Steve, and Robin pull up to the shitty little dive bar that Corroded Coffin is playing tonight. You’re nervous, but you’re not sure why. It’s not like Eddie is even going to notice you. You’re just here to enjoy the show and have a fun night out with your best friends. Besides, you haven’t seen Eddie since you were all in high school and you hardly spoke with him then. He probably doesn’t even remember who you are.

Steve has no clue about your little crush on Eddie Munson. He has no idea that he’s the only reason you dragged them to the Corroded Coffin show. Robin, on the other hand, has been forced to listen to your lust filled rants about Eddie on more than one occasion. 

“Alright, I’ll grab the drinks, you guys go find us a good clean spot to watch them.” Steve shook his head as he made his way to the bar at the back of the room. 

You and Robin found a small table against the wall to the side of the stage. As you two placed your purses and jackets down you looked up and saw Eddie walking towards the bar and your heart skips a beat. He was cute, more than cute, really. 

“Oh God. Why don’t you just go talk to him? It’s not like you two don’t already know each other.” Robin is rolling her eyes as she follows your line of sight to Eddie.

“Because. What would I even say? ‘Hi Eddie, remember how we hardly talked during high school and weren’t even friends? Well, I’ve actually got such a huge crush on you that I dragged my two best friends to your show tonight.’ I mean, come on, Robin.” You let out a heavy sigh and sit down on the stool.

Robin finishes draping her jacket over her chair and sits down, “Well, maybe don’t say that. I was more so thinking of something along the lines of ‘hi.’ You know, something normal.” 

“What are we talking about?” Steve says as he sets down the drinks. 

You catch Robin’s eye and give your head a subtle shake. “Oh, we were just saying how I think that girl over there at the bar is so cute. Y/N was saying I should go talk to her, but I’m just way too nervous.” Robin winks at you as Steve cranes his neck trying to see what girl she’s talking about.

“I didn’t see a cute girl at the bar.” Steve says.

“Oh she must have left already. Anyway thanks for the drinks, I think they’re about to start soon.” Robin spins around to face the stage while Steve is still scoping out the venue for girls.

As all three of you sip your beers and continue talking, the lights dim and Eddie walks onto the stage. You’ve got butterflies already. Robin turns back to look at you, she’s got a knowing smirk on her face. You roll your eyes and take another swig of your drink.

After the first few songs, you start to loosen up a little bit. Steve has gotten you your second beer and you’re almost ready for your third. You really weren’t planning to drink a lot tonight, but you have been wanting to talk to Eddie and you figured the alcohol would make it a little easier.

The next time Steve goes to the bar, Robin pulls you towards the front of the stage. “Robin, what are you doing?” 

“Trying to help you get a closer look at your future boyfriend.” Robin is giggling so hard that a few drops of her beer splash over the rim of the bottle. 

“Please.” You’re rolling your eyes again, but you’re definitely enjoying the close up view of Eddie. You rake your eyes over him and you can’t help but linger on the spot right below his belt buckle. 

“I see you guys are getting in on the action!” Steve comes up behind you and hands you and Robin another beer. “I’m gonna go hang at our table. I’m trying to get this girl’s number, told her to meet me over there.” He walks off towards your table.

You turn back around to face the stage, and notice Eddie is looking right at you. Eddie Munson is looking at you. Your breath catches in your throat as he looks away towards the other side of the crowd. 

Robin nudges you and says “Oh my god! He totally just looked right at you!”

You punch her arm and laugh, but a tingly feeling flows throughout your body. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Corroded Coffin’s set, you and Robin head back to your table to find Steve deep in conversation with a girl that Robin apparently knows. 

“Well, I’ve got to run to the bathroom, I’ll be right back you guys.” You head to the bathroom in the back corner of the venue. 

You fix your hair in the mirror before walking back outside. As you make your way back to the table, an arm reaches out in front of you to stop you. 

“Hey, didn’t we go to high school together?” It’s Eddie. He drops his arm and steps in front of you. 

“Wow, you scared me. Uh yeah, we did.” Your voice is a little shaky. You can’t believe Eddie is talking to you. You knew it was probably no big deal. It’s not like he was actually famous or anything. His band played at a few dive bars around town and that was really it. 

“I’m glad you came out to the show. Did you have fun? I gotta say, I didn’t think this would be your scene. From what I remember, in high school you were in a different crowd.” He’s smiling down at you. 

You look past him to see Robin staring at you with her eyebrows raised. Steve is also staring at you, the girl he was previously talking to had left. You raise your eyebrows back before turning to look up at Eddie. “Yeah, I remembered you had the band in high school and saw you guys were playing tonight. I thought we’d come check you out.” 

Eddie looks over his shoulder and you see Robin and Steve quickly glance away. “I see you’re still friends with Steve Harrington.” He says his name with an annoyance in his voice. Eddie and Steve didn’t exactly get along in school and it seems like Eddie hasn’t forgotten that. 

You chuckle nervously, “Yep. We’re still friends. So, the show was good. You were really great up there.”

“Thanks. That means a lot. I’m glad you had fun. I’ll let you get back to your friends. Maybe I’ll see you around some other time? We’re playing here again next weekend.” 

“Maybe we’ll come watch you guys again.” As you walk back towards Steve and Robin, you try not to overthink too much about your conversation with Eddie.

“Didn’t know you were friends with The Freak.” Steve is saying as you all start gathering your things.

“Oh shut up, Steve. We’re not in high school anymore. Can you at least try to act like an adult?” Robin elbows Steve in his side earning a little “ow” from him.

As you all walk to Steve’s car, you’re telling them about Eddie’s band playing here again next weekend. It takes some convincing from you and Robin, but Steve offers to drive again next weekend.

“Do you like him or something?” Steve is asking you as he drops you and Robin off at your apartment.

You roll your eyes at Steve and say, “No, I just think it would be fun. And maybe next time you’ll have a little more luck getting some numbers.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Steve says before he drives off leaving you and Robin giggling at the door.

You and Robin spend the night overanalyzing the conversation you had with Eddie. Or rather, Robin spends the night listening to you ramble on and theorize your outfit for next weekend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the next weekend rolls around, you’ve spent countless hours going over how you’re going to talk to Eddie again. You’re still too nervous to approach him first, but you know you can’t leave the show without speaking to him. 

You hear Steve honk his horn outside and you make your way out front with Robin trailing behind you. Robin had been helping you get ready and listening to you freak out over what you should say to Eddie tonight.

“You girls ready to go? I hope this time is better than the last time.” Steve puts the car in drive and heads toward the bar.

Robin snorts and says, “Steve, you can’t base the fun you have on how many girls’ numbers you get. There’s more to life than girls.”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk.”

When you arrive at the bar, Steve grabs your drinks again and you and Robin head to the same table as last time. Robin nudges you, “Look who’s over there.” She’s smiling and you follow her gaze to the side of the stage where Eddie stands holding a guitar case and surveying the bar. 

When he spots where you and Robin are sitting he walks up to you. “Hi guys. Excited for the show?” 

You’re too nervous to speak, luckily Robin chimes in with, “Oh yeah. You guys were great last time.”

Eddie turns to look at you. You notice how handsome he is when his smile stretches all the way to his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be a lot of fun.” 

Just then, Steve returns and sets the beers down on the table. “Hey man, how’s it going?”

Eddie just gives him a little nod and says, “I gotta get up there, but I’ll catch you guys after the show.” When he says it, he’s just looking at you. You feel a tingling go through your body. You feel electric and you can almost feel the blush creeping up your face.

Steve stares after Eddie before turning back around to say, “Jeeze. What’s his problem?”

Throughout the show, you catch Eddie’s eyes a few times. Of course, Robin immediately notices and nudges you each time. When it’s Steve’s turn to grab the drinks, Robin is asking you if you’re actually going to make a move on Eddie tonight. 

“I have no idea. I mean, I want to, definitely. It’s just, I don’t know, we’re total opposites.” You gulp down the last of your beer. Robin assures you that Eddie would be interested just as Steve reappears with the drinks. You notice he’s swaying a little bit as he sets them down and you’re worried he won’t be able to drive home.

Corroded Coffin finishes their set and starts packing up, but Eddie breaks away and heads straight to your table. You stand up to greet him and that’s when you realize just how drunk you actually are. How many beers had you had? At least four, maybe even five? “Hi Eddie.”

“Hey. Like the show?” He’s still only looking at you and you’re not sure if it’s because he has something against Steve and doesn’t know Robin all that well or because he wants to look only at you.

“Yeah it was really great!” You’re excited and slurring your words.

All four of you talk for a few minutes longer before Eddie excuses himself to help the band finish packing up their equipment. 

Eddie is only gone for a few minutes when he returns just as you’re all gathering your things and getting ready to leave. Steve stumbles as he stands and he grabs the table for support. Eddie sees this and says “Hey man, you all right? If you’re not good to drive I can drop you all off.” Eddie offers.

Steves starts to protest saying that you’re all going to different places, but Eddie cuts in with, “Really, it’s no problem. I’ve got the van, you guys can just pile in the back.”

Robin and Steve turn to face you and your eyes are wide. Eddie Munson driving you home after his show? Of course, he’s also driving Robin and Steve home. And it’s because you’re all too drunk to safely get home. It’s nothing exciting. “Yeah, yeah. That would be really great, thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie leads the three of you out to his van. He offers you the front seat which you happily accept and the other two climb in the back. 

You can hear Steve and Robin giggling in the backseat. You’re hoping Robin isn’t drunk enough to spill your secret longing for Eddie. You know this is just a little crush and you’ll get over it. 

You give Eddie directions to Steve’s then to Robin’s house. Eddie pulls up in front of Robin’s and you get out to walk her to her door. “This is your chance, Y/N. You better go for it.” You whisper at her to shut up as she slips inside. 

Not much is said on the way to your apartment, but you’re filled with an electric buzz throughout your body. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re sitting next to Eddie.

“Thanks so much for the ride. I really appreciate it.” You say as you start gathering your things. Eddie responds that he’s glad to give you a ride. You’re not looking at him, but it sounds like he’s smirking and you blush at where your mind goes. 

You try to get out of the van, but you can’t seem to grasp hold of the door handle without dropping all your things. You laugh as you realize the alcohol is catching up to you. 

“Okay, hang on, sweetheart.” Eddie notices you struggling, gets out of the van, and walks around to the passenger side. He opens the door for you to help you out. “Let me walk you in, I’ll carry your things.”

You hand over your things in silence as you process that Eddie just called you sweetheart. You watch as Eddie fiddles with your keys before finding the one to unlock the door. “Ladies first.” He has one hand on your elbow and the other is pushing the door closed behind you. 

As he sets your stuff down on the entry table you catch yourself saying, “Do you want to stay? I mean, just have a cup of coffee or something? Unless you’re tired. I know it’s late.” 

Eddie says that he would love to, so you head to the kitchen and start preparing a pot of coffee. When you turn back around, you’re hit with an overwhelming sensation in your stomach. You’re going to vomit now. There’s no way you can make it to the bathroom so you  lean over the sink and heave. 

The next thing you know, Eddie is there behind you. He’s taking out the hair tie that had been holding his long hair in a loose bun and pulls your hair away from your face to tie it back. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life. You’re vomiting in your kitchen sink in front of Eddie Munson who is currently rubbing small circles between your shoulder blades. Through your noises you can hear him saying, “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Despite your current situation, a rush of heat shoots down to your core. 

Eddie helps you to your bed, leaving to grab a glass of water. When he returns, you’ve slipped under the blankets and are almost asleep. “There’s a glass of water on your nightstand. Call me in the morning and I’ll take you to get the car.” He says before turning to leave.

“Wait. You can stay here, it’s late.” You call out to him from your half asleep state.

Eddie stands in the doorway, debating on what to do. Part of him wants to leave to not make things awkward for the both of you in the morning. He’s not sure if you mean he can sleep on your couch or your bed. 

As if reading his mind, you tap on the bed and roll over sleepily. He doesn’t need any more insistence and takes his jacket off before tossing it on the ground and crawling into bed next to you. He leans up to look at you and realizing you’ve already fallen asleep, he lays back down. As he does, he catches  a glimpse of lacy black underneath your skirt that’s crept up your thighs. 

Eddie is completely still on his back next to you. He’s never told you this, but he had a huge crush on you in high school. He was more than surprised when he’d noticed you while he was on stage last weekend. During the entire set, he had been thinking of ways to talk to you before you left. He was a little disappointed when he realized you were friends with Steve and he’d been hoping Steve wasn’t going to talk you out of coming to the next show. 

When he’d seen you again tonight, he couldn’t wait to talk to you. He’d been hanging out at the side of the stage, waiting for you to walk in. He spent the entire show trying not to stare at you the whole time. He felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He loved the way your short skirt flowed around your thighs. 

Eddie felt you shift, as he looked over he saw that you had kicked off your half of the blanket. With your skirt almost completely up your thighs, he had a perfect view of the lacy black underwear you were wearing. He felt the bulge in his pants grow. 

He knew it wasn’t right to stare, but he couldn’t help it. As quietly as he could, he undid his belt buckle and unzipped his jeans. Slowly, he pulled his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. 

As Eddie began stroking himself, he imagined what your hand would feel like wrapped around him. He thought about you staring into his eyes as your hand went up and down. He wondered what you would taste like.

Eddie continued to pump his hand up and down while alternating between staring at your ass and imaging all the things he could do to you. He lifted his shirt just as he spilled onto his stomach. Carefully, he got out of bed and made his way to your bathroom to clean up.

When he returned, he draped the blanket back over you and laid down next to you. He wasn’t sure how he was going to fall asleep with the knowledge that he’d just finished himself off a few inches away from you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you’re awoken to the sound of a voice coming from your kitchen. It takes you a second to remember that Eddie Munson spent the night.

“Oh, you know what, here she comes now.” Eddie hands you the phone as you walk sleepily into the kitchen. You see he’s already made a pot of coffee and is now cooking breakfast.

You know it’s Robin before you put the phone to your ear, you can already hear her voice. “Y/N, was that who I think it is that answered your phone? Was he there all night? What happened!”

“Yes and yes. I’ll call you later okay?” You hung up before Robin could say anything else. “Hey, thanks for the coffee. You really didn’t have to make breakfast though.” 

“After what you did last night, I figured you’d need some energy this morning. Don’t worry about it.” 

You’re shaking and it’s not from the alcohol last night. You’re still trying to piece together what happened. After what I did? What did I do? And then it all comes rushing back to you. You vomited in your kitchen sink right in front of Eddie Munson. And then you invited him to bed. And he accepted the offer. 

Eddie sets a plate down in front of you and leans against the wall sipping his coffee. “I figure we can pick Steve up, take him to get his car. And then…” He pauses, unsure if he should say what he’s thinking. You raise your eyebrows and he continues, “And then I was thinking later tonight, you might want to grab dinner? With me, of course.” 

You almost choke. Is Eddie asking you out on a date or are you reading way too much into things? “Yeah, yeah sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Eddie drops you back off at your apartment after taking Steve to pick up his car. As soon as you’re through the door, you’re calling Robin. “Robin, oh my god.” You gave her a recap of exactly what happened the previous night - vomiting included. 

“You threw up in your kitchen sink and he still slept in the same bed as you. Wow.” Robin is laughing hysterically. “Steve, did you hear that? She threw up!”

“STEVE is there? Oh god, Robin I don’t want more people knowing about this. It’s embarrassing enough that I have to know.” You groan and slide down the kitchen wall to the tile. 

Steve has grabbed the phone from Robin. “Are you dating Eddie now? Because if that freak can get a date easier than I can, I swear…”

“Shut up. No, we’re not dating. Nothing even happened. Sure, we slept in the same bed, but that’s it. Okay?” Even as you’re saying it, you still can’t believe it happened. You tell Steve and Robin bye before you hang up and start getting ready for your date with Eddie.

As you’re in the shower, you think of all the things that could have happened had you not passed out. Your hand slips down to your folds as you slide your fingers around in small circles. You’re imagining it’s Eddie’s hands touching you. As you climax, you’re imagining Eddie’s fingers pumping in and out of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re just finishing getting dressed as you hear a knock on your door. “Come in! I’ll just be a minute!” After trying on almost everything you own and calling Robin countless times for advice, you’d settled on a short flowy black dress.

When you emerge from your room, Eddie is sitting on the couch. As he looks up at you his eyes go wide and all of a sudden you feel self conscious. You look down at yourself and smooth your hands down your dress. “You look…incredible.” Eddie finally manages to choke out.

You smile at him and he almost melts. He rakes his eyes over you and without meaning to actually do it, he licks his lips. “You ready to go?” He stands up and grabs your hand, leading out to his van.

You feel an electric buzz that flows throughout your body, centered on where your hands meet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You can hardly remember dinner as Eddie opens the passenger door to his van, helping you inside. You spent the entire time trying to think of ways to invite Eddie back to your apartment after dinner. You also spent quite a bit of time staring at his hands and imagining what they could do to you. So by the time you’re settled inside the van, your core is already pulsing with need. 

When Eddie arrives at your apartment, you’re surprised when he gets out of the van to follow you inside. “I thought we could hang for a little longer? I’ve been really enjoying talking to you.” He says shyly as you set your things down. 

The two of you sit on the couch and continue the conversation you’d been having about Steve. “He’s really not so bad once you get to know him, I promise.” You’d been trying to convince Eddie that Steve was actually a great friend.

“Well, I’ll believe that when I see it.” Eddie shrugs his shoulders.

Neither of you have mentioned the previous night. You know it’s probably not a big deal, nothing happened and Eddie was just taking care of you after you’d drank too much. 

“Want a beer?” Eddie nods his head ‘yes’ so you head to the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge. 

When you return to the living room and hand Eddie the beer, your hands brush and neither of you pull away. When you sit down next to him, Eddie leans forward to set his beer on the coffee table. He turns to look at you, “You know, you really do look incredible. Thanks for going out with me tonight.”

You can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you set your beer down next to his. “T-thank you. You look pretty handsome too.” And he does. He’s wearing dark jeans, black shirt, and a dark leather jacket. You can’t help but think what he looks like under his clothes. As you look him up and down, your eyes stop on his lap. You can see a bulge, a very big bulge, under his jeans.

Eddie sees you notice and lets out a little chuckle. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach towards him and run your hand from his temple to his cheek.

Eddie stills, shocked. After a second, he grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him. Foreheads touching, you stare into each other’s eyes for just a split second before your lips meet.

Eddie’s hands are roaming up your back now, your hands tangled in his hair. “Fuck. I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you at the bar.” He says into your mouth. 

“Mm. Me too.” You breathe just as he rolls his hips hitting your sensitive bud and you let out a moan. 

This is better than he imagined in your bed last night while he pumped himself. “I touched myself last night thinking about this. I was thinking about all the things I want to do to you.” He licks a stripe up the side of your face. 

His words and the friction make you moan into his ear. You tell him how you fingered yourself in the shower, imagining his fingers inside you.

Eddie swears he could cum just from hearing you talk. He scoots you back so he can pull his jeans down before grabbing your hips and rolling them across his cock. Eddie lifts up your dress and pulls your panties to the side. “Is this what you want?” He asks as his finger brushes your clit.

“Mhm. Yes, please, Eddie.” Your hands are pulling his hair and you place kisses down his face before sucking a mark on his neck. 

Eddie lifts you up so he can swipe himself through your folds before lining himself up with your entrance and sliding you down. You gasp as you take the full length of him before tugging his hair even harder.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to his size before bucking up into you. You can’t hold in the moans that escape from your mouth and your entire body is trembling. You’ve never felt so full. You weren’t a virgin, but it felt like Eddie was stretching your walls as far as they could go. 

“Yeah? Is this what you thought about in the shower?” You can’t speak so you just nod your head ‘yes’. “Use your words, baby. I want to hear you.”

“Y-yes, this is b-better than what I imagined.” Eddie moved his hands from your hips to pull you to his chest. He cradled your head with one hand with his other resting on your lower back. 

Kissing your head he murmured praises into your ear. “You’re doing so good.”

“Eddie.”

Still inside you, he lifts you up and carries you to your bedroom. Placing you down on the edge of the bed and kneeling between your legs, he continues to pump in and out of you. Pulling your dress up he groped at you while using one hand to pull your legs to his neck. “Oh, you’re so wet for me, baby. Gonna cum soon?”

You can’t form words, you moan in response. But remembering what Eddie said earlier you manage, “Gonna cum.”

“Cum on me, baby.” he moves the hand from your tits to circle your clit. In seconds, you’re gushing around him. “That’s it, show me what you’ve been thinking about.”

Incoherent words and moans fall from your mouth as Eddie fucks you through your high. His thrusts become erratic and he’s moved to holding both your legs up against his chest. He’s gripping your calves so tightly, you know you’ll have bruises. 

“Where do you want me, sweetheart?”

Shakily, you whisper, “Inside me. Please.”

“All mine.” Eddie pulls you towards him as he thrusts and releases himself deeply inside of you. “Fuck.” He whispers as he lets your legs down and helps you into the bed. His jeans still around his ankles, he takes them off before climbing in beside you. 

You turn to face Eddie, your eyes glazed over, “I guess our date went well.” He laughs and pulls you in tighter. 

Eddie is tracing shapes along your back, “We’re playing at the bar in a few days. What do you say if you come as my girlfriend this time?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You nuzzle your head into his chest. 

Just as the two of you are drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, there’s a knock at the door. You both sit up and listen to the person knock again, louder. “Hello? You guys in there?” 

You look at Eddie with wide eyes, “It’s Steve.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 is HERE

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Keep your eyes on the road (aka an unexpected sex pollen adventure)

Summary: Honestly, this is what Bucky gets for not listening to you.

Characters: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ only. Oral sex while driving, sex pollen, sex in a car, bad language, Bucky desperately needing to bang. Also please do not try to replicate this unless you are in fact with a super soldier who has super reflexes, as blow jobs while driving should probably be attempted by super people. 

A/N: Is this really my first time writing sex pollen? Yes it is. Is Bucky being needy and desperate kinda fun? Yes it is. Did I enjoy writing this? Yes I most certainly did. I hope you enjoy it too. ;)

*****

The thing is, you told him you didn’t feel like coming on this mission.

And you told him not to open that container with the giant blood red skull on it. 

And you told him to to wear a mask.

And you told him to let you drive, but he shouted something about you being a passenger princess before unceremoniously shoving you in the getaway car.

So yeah. You told him all these things.

The thing is, Bucky fumes, glaring at the swerve of headlights advancing in his rearview mirror - he really needs to learn how to fucking listen.  

“Shit, shit, shit!” He slams the accelerator to the floor and the car gives a sickening lurch. Beside him, you crack your head on the window, trying to buckle your seatbelt and swearing at the top of your lungs. 

“Bucky what the hell’s the matter with you? Just drive.” 

“I’m trying,” he snaps. He can feel the flushing prickle of sweat beading down his neck. Rubbing a shaking hand down his face, he blows out a harsh breath. “Why in god’s name is the heater on? Turn that shit off, I’m burning up over here.”

Craning your neck, you watch the headlights gaining. Fumbling for the Glock taped under the seat, you shoot him a confused look. 

“The heater isn’t on, it’s freezing in here. I told Steve to fix it and he ignored me because he's a giant asshole.”

Eyes locked on the road, Bucky reaches blindly for the window handle, hurriedly rolling it down. A blast of cold air rushes through the car and he gulps in relief.

“Better, much better,” he mutters. He squints into the rearview mirror again, mentally calculating the time between headlights and taillights, when he feels a twisting wrench in his chest. It sends bursts of heat skimming under his skin, snagging every nerve along the way. A panicked whine slips through clenched teeth. Alarmed, you turn back and meet his wild eyes, sweat now pouring down his face.   

“What the - what’s wrong? Bucky? Talk to me!” 

When you grab his arm, he visibly recoils. 

“No no no, don’t touch me, don’t - ah holy fuck, don’t touch me. If you do, I can’t - I’m gonna put the car in the ditch.” 

“You’re scaring me Bucky, what is this?”

He says nothing, deep in thought as his brain runs through the mission on warp speed, trying to identify something, anything, that could possibly -

Wait.

Oh.

Crap.

It's like a sucker punch when he realizes.

“The gold dust that flew out of that container, did any of it touch you?”

“You mean the one I told you not to open but you did it anyway because you can’t follow directions? Bucky what is wrong, you need-“

“Answer me,” he snarls. In the dashboard glow, you see his face pale. He blinks rapidly, trying to focus. “Sorry, sorry, just - please answer. Did any of it get on your skin?”

Baffled, you shake your head.

“No. None of it touched me, it just hit you.” 

Bucky nods, relieved. 

“Good, okay. Okay. Think I know what this is,” he grits out. Another shudder wracks his body and he grips the steering wheel so hard it squeals in protest. “HRNE-75.”

Your response is a blank stare.

“Am I supposed to know what random letters and numbers mean?”

“It’s a stimulant.” 

“Like caffeine?”

“No, like a drug.” You can hear him breathing faster. “Like a - like an aphrodisiac.”

Still a blank stare.

“What kind of aphrodisiac?”

“People call it sex pollen,” he says flatly. “It makes you horny. Like - really fucking horny. And it hurts like hell unless you do something about it.”

“Well, okay. We’ll figure that out when we get home, but for now - “

“I can’t - I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he interrupts. Sweat soaks the collar of his shirt and he shifts uncomfortably, glancing down. Following his gaze, you can see his cock straining against his jeans. 

“Jesus Christ. Bucky if you’re in pain, just pull over and let me drive, you can jerk off in the backseat.”

“We don’t have time to pull over, that fucker’s right behind us and if we don’t get us past Steve’s stupid check point, we’re gonna lose him and then the whole mission is wasted and I got sprayed by some bullshit horny dust for no reason and I’m sweating so much right now and I think I’m going to throw up, my dick hurts so fucking bad!” 

His voice reaches an hysterical pitch and you press your lips together, choking down the laughter. 

“Okay okay, I got it. So if you come, does that stop the pain?”

“Yeah, but doesn’t matter,” his shoulders slump miserably. “We can’t stop yet and I can’t jerk off and drive at the same time. Maybe under normal circumstances I could do it, I mean sure I have done that before because sometimes I get bored driving, but I just don’t have that kind of focus right now baby, I don’t.” 

Tremors are rattling through his entire body now, as he fights for control. As he shifts his hips, unconsciously searching for some kind of friction to offer relief, an idea pops into your brain.     

“Hey. Let me give you road head.” 

His hands slip on the wheel and he double-takes. 

“Wha - road head? Like - what does that mean? Like you’d give me a blow job? While I’m driving?”

If this were any other situation, you would tease him mercilessly for the way his voice squeaks, but you smother the urge. Plenty of time for that later.   

“Of course. If it helps.”

“But you mean, you’re going to suck my dick? While I’m driving?”

“Love the emphasis on the important words. Yes, I’m going to suck your dick, while you’re driving.”

Bucky bats the idea around, debating whether you’re actually serious and whether he is probably definitely going to drive down a highway at - he checks the speedometer - 145 miles per hour, while you suck his dick. Another wave of heat roils through him and he stifles a groan. Glancing at your expectant face, he gives a shaky nod.

“You’re sure?”

Rolling your eyes, you unbuckle your seatbelt and scoot closer to him.

“It’s not a hardship Buck. You know I’m your dick’s number one fan.” Carefully popping the button on his jeans, you tug down his zipper and he pushes up his hips, struggling to help. The slight pressure on his aching cock already has him whimpering. “Just drive careful, alright? If I die because you wreck Steve’s car while I’m sucking your dick, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” Bucky breathes. “Careful. Sure. Whatever you say.”

Grasping him firmly, you lower your head and take his dick all the way down in one smooth move.

“Oh my fucking god,” he shouts, eyes fluttering. “Sweet shit that’s good!” 

He keeps one hand in a death grip on the wheel, while he places the other against the back of your neck, keeping you firmly in place. Bobbing up and down, your tongue strokes along the ridges of his cock and you feel him swelling impossibly thicker. Tightening your lips, you suck hard, dragging slowly up  and he croaks out a garbled plea.   

“Keep going, keep going, please keep going.” Beneath your practiced mouth, his entire body begins to vibrate and he grips the back of your neck tight, chanting desperately. “I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, holy fuck, I’m gonna come.”

He thrusts up, holding your head tight as he comes down your throat. When your fingers scratch along his thigh, his foot inadvertently pushes the accelerator harder. The car climbs to 155 miles per hour and above you, the sound of ragged panting fills the car. 

Releasing his dick with a soft lick, you look up and Bucky chokes at the sight of your spit slick, swollen lips curving into a smile.

“That was fast. Feel better?”

He breathes a whispered yes, but you can still see the red flush still spreading down his neck. He swallows hard and grimaces.  

“Helped. Definitely helped. Still hurts, but better,” he says faintly and you see his cock is still rock hard. “It’s okay, it’s enough for now, I appreciate the - “

Rolling your eyes, you lean down and take him back in your mouth. Slipping a hand between his legs, your fingers carefully cup the heavy weight of his balls, squeezing gently. The rest of his sentence fades, melting into a rush of fervent praise.

A luscious ache settles in your belly, feeding off the hot desire you feel sparking through him, at the filthy words you hear him whispering above you. If you weren’t driving down a pitch black highway at a completely inappropriate speed, you’d consider reaching down to take care of yourself, but since you’re already flouting the most basic rules of automotive safety, you figure you should keep your hands on Bucky’s balls instead.

Of course, that doesn’t stop you from rubbing your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pressure. 

Bucky glances over at your movement, a deep growl rumbling in his chest at the sight. He didn’t think anything could make him harder at this point, but the image of you so turned on by giving him a blow job, does the trick. He grinds his teeth, dangerously close to just pulling over and saying fuck this ridiculous mission. Rubbing his hand between your flexing shoulder blades and slowly bobbing head, his rasping voice carves into you.

“Does this make you feel good? Doin’ this for me? Fuck me, wish I could help you out right now. You’re so damn good to me baby. Moment we stop this car, I’m gonna fuck you so good.”

With his dick buried deep in your throat, your enthusiastic hum of agreement vibrates deliciously and he struggles to keep his eyes on the road. Everything feels incredible. Your tongue curling around the head of his cock, sucking gently on the tip, before sliding back down. The way you swallow around him, the squeeze of your throat, so hot and slick and tight. It feels so god damn good and he’s close again, one more second - 

The transmitter sitting in the console squawks to life, an ear piercing siren shocking you both from the lust fueled haze. You jerk off Bucky’s dick in a panic and he nearly screeches at the loss. Scrabbling with the device, he smashes the green TALK button.

“What?! What the fuck do you need, I’m busy.”

“Calm down there, speed racer,” comes Steve’s breezy voice. “Just letting you know we pulled the guy over. Turn around and come back so we can - “

Steve’s voice is abruptly silenced when Bucky crushes the transmitter with an easy squeeze of vibranium fingers. He flings the shattered splinters of plastic into the back seat and slams both feet on the brakes. The car fishtailes across the road, before skidding to a stop in a spray of gravel. Throwing it into park, he flips the lever under his seat and slides back with a mechanical thunk. Scrambling to pull his pants down all the way, he spreads his legs wide and takes his dick in hand. His eyes are dark, blown black when he turns to you.

“We’re safe. Get your pants off and get over here. Now.” he barks. 

Grinning at him, you tug on your tac pants, shimmying easily from the stretchy black fabric and clambering into his lap. There is no pretense. Bucky lines himself up and yanks you down, filling your cunt in one rough thrust. You’re so wet, he slides in easy. 

“God, Bucky,” you hiss. “That feels so good.”

He tugs on your shirt, pulling everything off until your breasts are bared. His mouth finds a nipple, teeth gently scrapping and tugging, greedily sucking the sensitive peak between his lips. He moves your hips faster, lifting and dragging you down on his cock over and over, until he jerks you down one final time, slams his head against the seat and comes with a long, guttural moan. Deep inside, you feel him pulsing over and over, until you can feel it dripping down your thighs, hot and sticky. 

Head tipped back, he struggles to catch his breath and you can see his heartbeat jumping wildly at his throat. When he finally opens his eyes to meet your questioning stare, you can see.

His eyes are still dark. 

“Need more?” You smile gently, smoothing sweaty hair from his forehead.

He swallows hard and then nods slowly.  

Rocking your hips, you grind down on him and lean in for a deep kiss, sliding your tongue against his. Bucky gives a shuddering sigh, sinking back into the feel of your body rolling against his. Warm hands stroke lightly down your spine and you can feel the thick, heavy weight of him growing hard again between your legs. But waring with the pleasure, a nervous tension seems to grip him.

“Bucky. I’m not made of glass,” you admonish. Licking delicately along his earlobe, he mumbles a string of apologies and your lips trail down his neck, pressing a kiss against that fluttering heartbeat. “You won’t hurt me, I promise. Use me however you need. Make yourself feel good. Just make me come before you’re done. Deal?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he says, shivering uncontrollably at the heady combination of your cool breath and fiery words. “I can do that. ‘Course I’ll do that.”

His hands slide up your back and hook over your shoulders, his fingers splayed over your collarbone. He holds your body firmly in place, thrusting up into you and simultaneously rocking your hips forward. The angle is perfect and you moan at the feel, dizzy with desire as his cock rubs that spot inside just right. 

The sounds filling the car are purely pornographic. Wet skin slapping, Bucky grunting with every hard snap of his hips. The feel of his calloused fingertips stroking up your belly, between your breasts, pressing divots into your skin. He stares up at you, his eyes heavy and hooded and utterly adoring, relishing the sight of you grinding your pussy against him. His hand slips between your legs, stroking over your clit, rubbing fast tight circles. He smugly drinks down the breathless gasps he coaxes from you.   

“Bucky, I think - I think I’m - ”

The words falter when your hand slams into the car roof and your head falls back, eyes drifting closed. Lust slaps him hard as he watches you come, writhing above him, your voice cracking when you moan out his name again and again.  

“That's it, there you go baby,” he whispers roughly. The vision is breathtaking. Stunning. He figures maybe he could get used to sex pollen and a perpetually aching dick if it means he gets to see you like this.

He was already close (again), but the pure pleasure in your face is enough to knock him over the edge. He buries his face between your breasts, pinching your nipple and licking over your skin and your fingers tangle in his damp hair. You hold him tight as he gasps out your name, emptying himself inside you one more time.

And this time, finally, you can feel some of the spring tight tension disappear. His skin is still hot, but the shivers begin to diminish. Rough hands still grip your hips, but it feels controlled. The manic lust begins to fade, leaving a smoldering fire in his chest.   

Bucky tips a weary head back and meets your amused expression. A smile tugs the corner of his lips and he shakes his head. 

“God damn,” he sighs.

Scratching your nails lazily along his scalp, he leans into your touch, humming like a contented, if slightly feral, kitten. 

“Feel better?”

“So much better,” he murmurs. “Sorry that went completely sideways. Wasn’t really expecting that. Obviously enjoyed it, but still. Unexpected adventure.”

Pressing a kiss to his forehead you laugh.

“Next time, maybe don’t open the can with the giant red skull on it. Deal?”

“Deal.”

A comfortable silence settles. Bucky trails his fingers down your arms and you eye him thoughtfully.

“So, do you think they’ll come looking for us?”

“Maybe. Eventually. What should we do while we wait?”

There is a moments pause. And then you begin to roll your hips against him again and Bucky feels the electricity flare to life once more.

“We keep going.”

*****

[eddiesghxst]

best friend! steve x best friend! reader and steve is talking ab how he didnt get laid on his date and reader is like “i can do it”

LMAOO poor stevie, i’ll take one for the team i guess🤭

18+ — MINORS DNI

contains: oral (m recieving), p in v (unprotected - don't be stupid), and steve's big d!ck

word count: 1.9k

(this is def not proofread srry)

————

Steve has been ranting for ten minutes straight.

You’re laid on his bed, head resting at the foot of the mattress and legs sprawled out to where the soles of your feet just barely brush against Steve’s thigh. You had originally come over to watch a movie, but you got dragged to his room, and ever since you sat down on his bed, Steve’s mouth has been running, complaining about his current dry spell.

“I mean really, I don’t mean to toot my own horn here, but I don’t remember it ever being this hard to get fucking laid,” He complains as you quietly entertain yourself with imaginative shapes in the ceiling. “I’m dying, man, it’s ridiculous.”

And you’re tired of hearing your best friend complain about his lack of pussy, you want some popcorn and you want to watch the movie. So, before you can fully register your thoughts, you’re already spitting out a suggestion, “I can help.”

Steve glances at you, watching as your folded hands rest against your steadily rising stomach, “We’ve already tried that, your advice doesn’t work.” He points out. You roll your eyes, craning your neck to look at him as you flex your foot and press against the side of his thigh, ignoring when he bats you away, “No dummy. I mean I can help you.“ 

You lay your head back down, wriggling your feet as if you hadn’t just suggested you fuck each other and Steve is… well Steve’s not sure what to say.

You sit up to lean on your elbows and glance at Steve, raising an eyebrow, “You didn’t die did you?” You joke. Steve shakes his head as you shuffle to your knees and begin crawling over, “No I… I’m just…” He swallows heavily when your hand rests against his thigh, fingers gently squeezing as you lean into his space.

“A-are you sure?” He asks. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t, Stevie.” You confirm, gently batting your eyes at him as a sickeningly sweet smile spreads across your lips.

Steve curses, gaze flickering to your pretty lips before surging forward to press his lips against yours. It’s not the first time you and Steve have kissed, there've been a handful of drunk nights where you shared a few harmless pecks here and there, but nothing of this manner.

It’s never been passionate enough to have Steve pulling you by the hips to drag you onto his lap or good enough to have you moaning as you stuff your fingers into his brown hair. Your knuckles curl into the roots and Steve moans, leaning forward into the kiss until you’re giggling against him, sneaking a hand between the two of you to palm at his crotch. “You’re already hard, Steve.” You point out.

“Did you think I was lying when I said I’ve been living like a repressed nun?” 

You laugh, “No I just… I thought I’d have to work for it a bit, I guess.” You shrug as your fingertips curl around the hem of his shirt, pulling upwards and removing the thin material from his frame.

You’ve seen Steve shirtless many times from countless summers spent at the pool and countless nights sleeping over. You’re well aware that Steve is gorgeous, and you’ve always wanted to do more than just admire, and now that you’ve got the chance, you don’t waste a second to run your hands over his chest. Your fingers curl against the patch of hair covering his chest as you kiss him again, grinding against his bulge and moaning.

Steve’s big hands are on your waist, eagerly squeezing before making his way down your back. He’s hesitant as his hands round over the fat of your ass, but you grind back against his touch as a way of encouragement. His fingertips dig into your ass before he moves his hands lower to slip up under the tiny shorts you have on, groaning at the sensation of your warm skin against his hands.

“Fuck, Steve, that’s really hot.” You breathe against his lips. “Yeah?” He hums, pushing your ass down to grind you against his dick. “Yeah… I wanna taste you.”

Steve’s cock throbs at your words and he mumbles a curse before nodding, pulling away from you to hastily shove his sweats down as you shuffle to settle between his legs. You quickly remove your shirt, giving Steve an eyeful of your tits sitting prettily in your bra. He palms himself over the thin material of his boxers as you shuffle closer, situating yourself between his spread thighs.

Your fingers brush against his when you reach out to dip your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, eagerly tugging them down to release him. Steve moans as you pull the boxers down, stiff cock slapping against his tummy once it’s freed from the thin cotton material. 

“Holy shit, Steve,” you whisper, eyes wide and lips parted as you gaze down at his cock, hard and already leaking with excitement. You glance up at him before looking back at his dick, “I guess the King Steve rumors were true…” You mumble, ignoring Steve’s breathless laugh as you drag a finger up the length of his cock. Steve’s breathing is slowly rising as he silently watches you touch him, circling your fingertip around his aching tip to smear the sticky precum around.

You giggle when he visibly twitches from your touch, “Excited?” You tease. “Fuck you,” Steve breathes, moaning when you finally wrap a hand around him.

You smile, watching as his face twists in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to stroke him. He slowly thrusts up into your hand, working to meet your strokes in tandem as breathy moans tumble from his lips. You watch in awe as he melts into the pleasure, “God, you really are pent up, Stevie.” You point out, gently pulling Steve’s attention to open his eyes and watch as you wriggle to lay down on your stomach.

You pause your stroking to spit into your palm before resuming the task, humming at the sinful shlicking sound of his wet cock in your hand. You admire the sight in front of you; Steve’s thighs, hairy and toned, bracketing you in with his cock standing tall, firm, and achingly flushed before you. Your gaze drags up the expanse of his heaving chest to fall upon his flushed face. His lust-blown eyes excitedly watch as you lean forward to drag your wet tongue up the underside of his cock, lewdly humming at the taste as you wrap your lips around his tip.

“Oh fuck,” he pants, head falling back against his headboard as his eyes squeeze shut. “I can’t believe this is fucking happening.” He breathlessly mumbles, tuning back in to watch as you pull him out with a crude pop, smacking your lips open to stick out your tongue and slap his sticky tip against it a few times before swallowing him once again.

Steve is big, filling and stretching your mouth so much to where you can already tell there will be an ache in your jaw afterward, but you don’t care. What you can’t fit into your mouth, you make do by simultaneously stroking with the rhythm of your movements.

It doesn’t take long before Steve’s hands are in your hair, softly tugging as he moans out, “I’m gonna cum.”

You pull off of him with a wet gasp, strings of spit and cum sticking to your lips and falling to cool against Steve’s wet hips. You languidly stroke his throbbing cock as you shuffle up onto your knees, a swollen smile bracing your lips as Steve pants beneath you, gazing up at you on hunger.

He nods down to your waist, “Take them off.” 

You waste no time following his orders, wiggling out of your shorts and tossing them somewhere in the room. Steve leans forward to kiss you, hands sneaking behind you to unclip your bra and shuck it off with the rest of your clothes. You’re only left in your panties when Steve pushes you back to lay against his pillows, legs falling open to welcome Steve as he leans over you for a sloppy kiss.

He palms your tits with one hand as the other strokes his cock, mumbling against your lips, “Gonna let me fuck you?” 

He presses himself against your clothed center, both of your moaning at the sensation as he rubs against your covered clit. You eagerly nod in response, fingers tugging at his curly hair as he reaches down to pull your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” He whispers to himself before running his thumb over your aching clit. You pathetically moan and squirm against him as his name falls from your lips. 

He kisses you again, thrusting his hips forward to run his cock through your wet folds. He slaps his dick against your pussy a few times until you’re mewling in pleasure and agony, “Please, Steve. I didn’t tease you.” You whine.

Steve chuckles, “I know… you’re right, I’m just being mean.” He says. He holds himself up with one hand beside your head as he pulls away just enough to glance down between your bodies, brown curls falling over his face as he watches himself drag his tip through your folds once more before lining up at your entrance. He pushes in achingly slow, looking back up to watch as your face is masked with a look of pleasure.

Your thighs shake as he bottoms out, and Steve groans above you when your wet walls clench and swallow him whole, “O-oh my god, Steve… holy shit, you’re so fucking big.” You breathlessly moan.

You’re already pulsing around him when he begins thrusting into you, sloppy wet slapping noises filling out the space around you as each thrust pulls moans from both of you. You’re not sure you’ll last long, the feeling of being so stretched out and filled with your best friend's cock has your head spinning until you’re nothing but a moaning mess.

You think you lose sense of time as Steve fucks you because you only come back to earth when you’re teetering on the edge and hear Steve’s gravely voice in your ear, “You’re so good to me,” he pants, “Such a good friend, letting me fuck this tight little pussy of yours.” 

You whimper, nails digging into his arms as the band in your tummy begins to snap, a long string of moans and curses pouring from your chest as you cum. “Fuck yes holy shit I’m gonna cum.” Steve moans.

Before you know it, Steve is pulling out of you and spurting thick ropes of cum against your tummy and pussy, cursing and moaning as he jacks himself off the rest of the way. You’re breathless and hazy as you watch him, squirming at the sensation of his warm cum on your skin and his hot fingertips digging into your thigh.

Steve is panting as he looks down at you, taking in the sight of the white sticky release glistening against your pussy, some of it seeping into the thin material of your panties. He breathlessly chuckles, glancing up at you as join in and ask what he’s laughing about.

Steve shakes his head in disbelief and lets out a short laugh, “We should’ve done that a long time ago.”

[ddejavvu]

Can I pretty please get a part two to the one you did where Eddie and Steve tease the reader about having a mysterious crush. Like maybe Dustin knows (because that adorable little shit knows everything) and accidentally let’s slip to them that it’s Steve and Eddie she likes and it completely blows their minds?

part I | part II | part III | part IV

"Two guys at once," Steve groans, watching you splash Robin in the face from the deep end of the pool, "How does that even happen?"

"Well," Eddie's face drops into a shit-eating grin, "One in the mouth, one in the-"

"Eddie!" Steve reaches out to whip his towel against Eddie's bare chest, leaving behind a striking red mark, "Fucking gross, dude!"

Eddie only snickers, craning his neck back to reach out for the beer Dustin hands him on his way back out to the pool.

"Thanks," Eddie nods graciously at Dustin, and the boy nods eagerly, sitting at the base of Steve's lounge chair.

"What are you guys talking about?" Dustin cocks his head to the side, water flying from his curls. Steve flinches as some hits his face, and he uses the towel he'd just attacked Eddie with to wipe it away.

"Y/N and her little crushes," Eddie nods to you from his chair, watching as Robin dunks you under the surface, "We've been teasing her for weeks and she finally told us."

Dustin's face lights up, "She did?! Oh my god, finally!" He reaches over to shake Eddie's leg as it stretches across the chair, "Congrats, guys!"

"Congrats?" Steve furrows his brows, "For what?"

"I mean, aren't you happy? You guys are dating her now, right?" Confusion clouds his eyes for a moment and Eddie sits up straight, no longer lounging against the chair.

"Us?" Eddie inquires, his hand flapping between himself and Steve, "She has crushes on us?"

Dustin's face pales, "She.. she didn't tell you who she likes?"

"Oh my god," Steve nearly drops the soda he's been holding, glancing over at Eddie who's mouth is slightly open as the gears in his brain turn, "You're kidding."

"I.. I didn't mean to tell you!" Dustin stands, backing away from them, "Please don't tell her that I ratted her out!"

"Calm down, dude." Steve scoffs at the boy's panic, "We just.. are you sure it's us?"

"Totally sure." Dustin nods vigorously, "She's, like, crazy for you."

"Fuck." Eddie curses, reaching over to smack Steve's bare chest, "We've been tormenting her for weeks!"

"Ow!" Steve flinches away from the crazed man, "You've been doing it too, dickhead! Don't blame me!"

"What do we do now?!" Eddie whispers, your attention on them now as their freakout grew in volume, "Do we tell her?"

Steve glances over at you, meets your curious eyes, and turns back to Eddie, determination shining in his own soft ones, "No. I have a plan."

[shares-a-vest]

'i have writer's block', i say as i go back to a little ficlet i've had sitting in my drafts for months and immediately turn into 1.4k...

Summer, 1995

Wayne Munson's hearing isn't what it used to be, but he is almost certain he can hear a steady stream of cooing sounds coming from Eddie's bedroom.

He frowns and looks at his watch.

It's only 6:30am.

He yawns at the early hour as he shuffles to the kitchen for his prized coffee pot. And gosh darn it, he thinks. He really didn't want to be on a shiftwork sleep schedule while the boys are visiting with his granddaughter.

"Joanie-Bear..."

"Joanie-Bolonge..."

Yep – that is definitely Eddie with one of his silly pet names and a high-pitched sing-song voice.

Wayne can't help but stifle a chuckle as he fetches a clean mug from the drying rack on the sink. He's never known Eddie to wake up this early. Not even back when Steve moved in with his militant morning routine of jogging-showering-breakfast, all before Eddie's third alarm finally rustled him semi-conscious.

He sets his mug down with a clang on the bench as the incessant beeping of Eddie's blasted wristwatch sounds through his waning eardrums. He wishes he'd never bought the thing (in his futile efforts to make his nephew punctual) in the first place.

But the distant memory of Eddie's useless watch is quickly replaced with the disgruntled wailing of Joanie – a living, breathing tiny-human alarm that will surely be more than effective in getting his nephew up at a decent hour. For the next few years, at least.

He foregoes a courteous knock and opens the bedroom door to find Eddie sitting at the end of the bed with Steve in his lap as they both look into the crib that contains the source of the ruckus.

"What are you boys doing?" Wayne asks with fond amusement.

"Saying good morning to the light of our lives," Steve says, all syrupy-sweet as he reaches down and makes a shushing noise.

Wayne steps closer, smiling as he catches sight of his granddaughter.

"Hey, darling."

Joanie smiles so wide her eyes crinkle up, cheeks growing rosier as she kicks her feet with such vigour she could tear straight through her yellow onesie.

"We were basking in the peace and quiet," Eddie explains with an adoring sigh, "Gotta relish it before this little bean starts going about her busy day of toddling, talking and getting stinky."

"Talking?" Wayne is very much aware he sounds disappointed.

"Bee-shabba-fur," Eddie turns to Steve with complete seriousness, punctuating his babble-talk with a hand flourish.

"Eepa-nann-ca," Steve agrees, nodding up at Wayne like he is supposed to chime in.

He smiles, "I don't think you should be accusing anyone of being stinky, Eddie. I remember you at her age all too clearly."

His nephew frowns and hides behind Steve's shoulder to shield himself from any more barbs, even though his boy claps a hand over his own mouth to contain his laughter.

"A... app-ess," Joanie babbles and excitedly kicks her feet again.

"That means applesauce," Steve nods as Joanie starts grumbling again and makes grabby hands in the air.

"Looks like she's expecting that applesauce right now," he warns the pair as he scoops her up.

"But – " Steve protests.

"Shh," Eddie cuts him off as his eyes get all droopy, "Let him take her."

Wayne rolls his eyes.

Alright, so maybe Eddie still isn't a morning person. Parenthood has just forced it on him.

"Come on, kid," he says as his granddaughter cranes her neck to look out expectantly at the kitchen.

Although he is thrilled to have a whole two weeks with the boys and Joanie, the trio being back in Hawkins means that Wayne has to share them with others, including the Hendersons. Call him selfish, but he'd much prefer to just stay at home all day than pack half the house into the car for the short trip across town for lunch.

As Steve opens the car door to sit with Joanie, she grumbles and squirms, whipping her head about. Wayne dips his head to get a look at the fuss she beams, making an eh noise at the sight of him. He barks a laugh as she swivels to look at her father, her hair fashioned into two not-so-small buns giving her a disproportionate bobblehead.

"You want Pa to sit with you?" Steve asks the kid.

She shoots Steve a look like she is desperate for him to vacate the seat.

"You drive," Wayne nods, ensuring they arrange something before Eddie insists on driving.

He really doesn't feel like getting car sick before a Claudia Henderson-catered lunch.

With Steve safely driving, and Eddie being distracted by some local council drama playing out over the talk-back hour on the radio, Wayne can relax.

That is until he feels a little paw clawing at his hand.

"You wanna hold my hand," he asks Joanie as he offers his palm.

"Eh-ep...ish," she stutters out all spittle-filled.

"That means 'yes please'," Eddie chimes, leaning into the crackling radio as he scoffs at the disc jockey's quip.

Wayne chuckles, "Figured that."

He looks down to find Joanie now tracing the many lines on his palm. She's in a state of deep concentration, leaning as far forward as her car seat straps will allow as she goes.

She soon takes his thumb in her hand, clenching her fist around it as she grows tired, most likely due to the bumps in the road interrupting her tracing game rather than any actual sleepiness. Wayne can feel her soft fingertips press against the callous on his knuckle. She freezes and unfurls her hand to examine it.

She looks up with the same confused frown Eddie always had as a kid, her big brown eyes clearly expressing thoughts that she can't yet put into words. But she is most definitely thinking away in that little noggin.

She presses her forefinger to the callous to poke at it.

"Got a lot of those, I'm afraid," he explains, "Too tough for your hands."

She looks him over, eyes darting about as she opens her mouth like she is readying herself to respond.

For a moment, he thinks she might not have a damn clue, but then she takes his thumb again and pulls it close. He has to shift a little so his hand isn't twisting on the edge of the baby seat but sure enough, Joanie holds his hand for the remainder of the ride.

When they reach the Hendersons, Claudia announces she already has lunch well underway. She and Wayne think alike when Joanie is around. Rush through all that boring grown-up stuff to get straight to playtime with the kid.

Steve is going about his usual routine, carrying his daughter around the house to give her a tour while the others make the finishing touches on lunch.

Though Wayne is sure Eddie and Dustin are each sneaking samples and more getting in the way than actually helping. He smirks at the sound of something clanging in the kitchen and Claudia giving a scolding, "Dusty!" as he rounds the corner to the dining room.

Steve is walking around the table with Joanie in his arms, counting the chairs aloud. But Joanie isn't listening. She spots Wayne and beams.

"Pa!"

His heart stops – or maybe it swells.

Joanie outstretches her hands as she tries to wiggle out of her father's grip. And Steve, the poor boy, looks shell-shocked. He blinks, eyes as wide as Claudia's special-occasion dinner plates.

"Eh-Eddie!" Steve half stutters, half shrieks as tears begin to well up.

"What, what, what?" his nephew panics, walking in from the kitchen cradling a gravy boat like his hands are too full for anything else.

He walks right up to Steve and practically hooks his chin on his shoulder. Eddie frowns at his partner. And Joanie just keeps squirming, now turning her attention to her father.

"Pa!" she whines through a frustrated little hiccup as she points across the room.

Eddie yelps and cups a hand over his mouth.

Thankfully, Wayne doesn't hear the sound of the gravy boat dropping onto the freshly-vacuumed carpet. He doesn't even look to make sure. He's far too focused on his granddaughter.

"She said her first word," Steve whispers like he has a frog in his throat.

Joanie did say her first word.

Wayne's granddaughter said her first word.

And her first word referred to him.

Her Pa.

His bottom lip wobbles as they lock eyes once more.

But the moment is short-lived as the kid resumes wriggling about, pushing against Steve's possessive hold with some real force this time as she balls up a fistful of her father's pale blue polo shirt.

"Pa!" she dry-sobs.

Wayne shakes his head and steps forward. He'll have to save the serious emotions and a doting session with the boys for later if they want to avoid a catastrophic meltdown right now. He beams as he rushes the couple of strides it takes to reach his cranky granddaughter, who remains completely unaware of the marvel that has everyone at a useless standstill.

"Better do as she says," he laughs, taking her from Steve.

The boy has no choice but to give her up.

Joanie almost jumps into his embrace as she hooks her arms in a vice-like grip around his neck. Wayne looks at the boys, apologetic as he bounces his granddaughter.

Not that she needs settling now, anyway.

More of this au HERE

[milla-frenchy]

2k3 | Javi Peña x fem reader Summary/prompt: brat!tamer Javi puts reader in place after she’s been teasing him at the office all day. Warnings: 18+ mdni. semi public sex (office sex), oral (f/m), dirty talk, biting, unprotected piv, creampie. No age specified a/n: secret Santa with mutuals 🎄❤️ @multiversed-daydreamer I hope you'll enjoy these 2 brats 😊 Thank you for this prompt 👌🤌 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog Thank you for correcting me 💕🫶

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Masterlist | ao3

“Can you show me where the La Quica files are in the archives room, Steve?”

Javi rolled his eyes when he heard you. Since this morning, you’ve been trying to make him jealous any way possible.

You showed your painted nails to Steve (it’d been Javi who had chosen the nail polish - his favorite color - for you), you swayed your hips way too much, walking before Stechner in the hallway (while you were wearing Javi's favorite skirt, which he had bought for you, expressly asking you not to wear it at work), you brushed against Crosby's arm before pressing the elevator button to leave the office that afternoon (while Javi was a foot away from him, and right in front of you).

Several times, Javi gave you a look that seemed like a warning, but you offered him your best smile and redoubled your efforts to tease him even more.

You two had started a relationship a few weeks ago, and no one knew about it at the DEA’s office. Javi wanted to keep it that way.

You were supposed to see each other at the weekend but he canceled at the last minute, and today, on Monday, you wanted to make him a little jealous.

You were hoping that he would join you in your apartment tonight, to punish you (a little), and to make amends (a lot).

As Steve took you to the archives room to give you the La Quica file, Javi lit a cigarette before throwing his lighter on his desk. You couldn't help but smile, preceding Steve into the hallway, hoping that Javi was craning his neck to watch his coworker follow you. You knew Murphy didn't care about you, in love as he was with Connie, but he was still a great target to make Javi jealous.

The afternoon passed, and by the early evening the offices were practically empty. You cleaned up your desk and took La Quica's file to put it in the archives.

Just as you were putting it in the box, you heard the door open.

“Who’s there?”, you asked without getting an answer.

“Javi?”

You put the box back in its place and headed towards the door, when Javi appeared from behind a shelf. He smiled, the way a cat might smile before playing with a mouse.

“Have you enjoyed teasing me all day, Hermosa? I told you I didn’t want people to suspect anything about us.”

He turned towards the door and locked it, then moved closer to you, one slow step after another, his eyes fixed on yours. When he got close, you stepped back as he continued to advance towards you, until your back hit the wall. His piercing gaze made you lose your composure in a matter of moments, and yours was now moving from his eyes to his lips. His smirk made you melt, but you couldn't believe that he took the risk of locking himself in this room with you, even if there were only a few people left in the offices.

“What are we doing here, Javi?”

He leaned over you, pressing his cock against your pussy, his nose brushing against yours. He was so hard that you felt your pussy get wet instantly.

“I think you need a good lesson, Hermosa. Need me to put you in your place.”

“Oh really? Put me in my place, then, Javi. Make me shut up”, you dared him.

“I will. But you might moan a little.”

His face was so unimpressed, in complete control, that you stopped talking.

He released you and took a few steps back, slowly again.

“You wanna act like a brat? I'm gonna treat you like a brat. Get on your knees."

He undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. You moved closer to him and got on your knees immediately.

“You want it that bad? Suck it.”

You wanted to take his cock in your hand and jerk him off, but he pushed your hand away.

“I said, suck it.”

He grabbed his cock and then your neck and said “spit on it. And suck it.”

You let your saliva run down his cock, and he pressed your neck harder. You took the tip in your mouth, your lips rounding around his cock. You ran your tongue along the slit, and licked up the precum that was leaking out.

You heard him moan, and his hand tightened on your neck. Still holding his cock in his hand, he leaned his pelvis forward, forcing you to take him deeper in your mouth. He set his pace, thrusting in and then retreating slowly.

“This is what you needed, mmm? Me taking care of your attitude?”

He clenched your hair in his fist, keeping his other hand on your neck.

“Well Hermosa, you don’t seem to act like a smartass anymore, with that big cock stuffing your mouth?”

He released you and you caught your breath.

“You’ve been a very bad girl today, Hermosa. Wanted to make me jealous?”

“A little, yeah…”

“I am Chilean, bebé. I don't know what "a little jealous" is. You need to make it up now. Use your hands and suck it.”

You grabbed his cock and slid your tongue from your hand to his crown, slowly, looking up at him. You took the tip in your mouth, and started sucking on it, still jerking him gently.

“Come on Hermosa, take it deep in your mouth. You’re not gonna act shy because we’re at the office, are you? You weren’t shy when you were all over those men...”

Your groaned, and your tongue played with his tip one last time, still leaking with precum, and your mouth moved further down his shaft.

“That’s it, take it all now, like a good obedient girl.”

You grabbed his thighs with your hands, and you moved further down his shaft, slowly, so that your mouth and then your throat got used to his girth. Your nose in his pubic hair, you kept it at the back of your throat for a few seconds, your tongue pressed against his shaft.

“Fuck… yeah, that’s good. Your mouth feels so much nicer taking my cock, instead of flirting like a little slut all damn day.”

You moaned hearing him, and pulled back slowly, all the way to his tip, swirling your tongue over it, before pushing his cock fully into your mouth again. You felt his fingers tighten in your hair and he groaned.

You were sucking on his cock, your head bobbing up and down, giving him your all. You loved feeling him in your mouth, feeling that vein against which your tongue was sliding.

“You are so much more docile now, Hermosa.” He caressed your cheek, and added “Get up now, I’m not done with you.”

He grabbed your elbow to help you up, then he knelt down as well, facing your crotch. He lifted your skirt, revealing your panties. You heard him moan, then sigh heavily when he saw your swollen folds. The fabric was wet, and he couldn't help but sigh deeply one more time.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby. This pussy is so desperate to get fucked. But she’s gonna have to cry a little bit more before taking it.”

He came closer, his eyes fixed on your panties, and he licked the fabric with a long stroke. Then he grabbed one of your thighs, and hoisted it over his shoulder, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side. He tilted his head, and the tip of his tongue licked your pussy, slowly, up to your clit. He did it again, and you let your head fall back against the wall. This time, he let the tip of his tongue play with your clit, and your hands came to lose themselves in his dark curls. His mustache rubbed gently against your folds, and you moaned. He pulled back and looked up at you, smiling when he saw your face.

“I really shut you up this time Hermosa, and I didn’t even start really eating you out.” He dove in your pussy without giving you a chance to respond, spreading your folds with his thumbs and pushing his tongue into your soaked hole. This time you couldn't help but moan too loudly, and he pulled away saying “shhhh. Don’t make me stop. There are still people in the office.”

You looked down at him and nodded, and he slipped his middle finger into your pussy, still looking at you. He fingered you, and placed his lips against your clit, sucking it gently. He added a second finger in your pussy, and the tip of his tongue swirled against your clit.

Javi knew damn well how to make you cum. In a few weeks, he had become an expert. Whether by taking his time, to the point where you ended up begging him to make you cum, or in two minutes. You knew he wanted to make you unravel quickly, this time.

He turned his fingers upward, rubbing them against that squishy spot, and his tongue swirling faster against your clit, making you moan again. Your nails were lightly grazing his head. You whispered, “Javi…I’m gonna cum.”

He grunted, his lips still placed around your clit, and his tongue quickly playing with it. You came, the back of your hand pressed against your mouth to muffle a possible cry, your pussy contracting on his fingers. He placed his tongue against your clit, waiting for the jerks to stop. Always, he was waiting like this, his tongue poised, as if he was amused by the jolts of your little set of nerves.

He placed your leg back on the ground and stood up, catching you in the process as you reeled from your orgasm. He smiled and said, “I’m not done with you, Hermosa. I don't want you to play your little game again in a few days, and for that, you need a full lesson, don't you?”

He spread your feet with his, gripped your hair in his hand, pinning your head against the wall. Holding his cock, he rubbed it against your folds, under your skirt, before pushing inside, bottoming out in a single thrust. He buried his nose in your neck, growling against your skin as he felt your pussy spread for his cock.

“You’re so tight… you’re squeezing my cock so hard.”

“Fuck me Javi, please. Fuck me hard.”

“Damn, three days without taking this cock and you’re begging for it that much”, he said, grabbing your thighs in his hands, and lifting you so that you wrapped your legs around his waist. The position allowed him to thrust deeper into you, and each stroke hit your G spot. Your back against the wall, each thrust of his hips made you slam against it, as you were holding onto him, your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“Still wanna tease all those men, baby? Just to get fucked in here, like a good little whore?”

Before you could try to respond, you heard someone walking down the hall, and Javi put his hand over your mouth, continuing to fuck you just as hard, as your eyes were fixed on each other. You licked the palm of his hand, and he shook his head still looking at you, frowning. The footsteps moved away, and he removed his hand, grabbed your throat and pressed your head against the wall, his gaze moving from your eyes to your lips.  You grabbed his wrist back, and squeezed it with your fingers, to make him squeeze your throat tighter.

He released your thighs and just as your feet hit the ground, he pulled out of you and grabbed your hips, spinning you around, to make you face the wall. 

You just had time to put your hands against it, when he was already lifting your skirt, and pressing his cock against your entrance, sinking in in one go.

“I’m gonna give it to you just like you wanted. Hard,”  he said, thrusting deeply in your core.

“Oh! F… fuck!”

The thrusts of his hips sped up, pinning you against the wall each time he thrust into you. 

He bit your shoulder lightly, and his grunts turned you on more and more. His hands gripped your hips tightly, helping him thrust deeper. Wanting to feel him even more, you tilted your ass back, so that the angle would allow him to hit your g-spot with each stroke.

“What are you doing, little brat? Wanna come on this cock?”

“Yes Javi, please, I’m so close...”

He squeezed your hair in his fist, and said “you think you deserve this?” still thrusting deep into you with every stoke.

“Yes!! Please, Javi”

“No more brat attitude at work?”

“No… I promise.”

He bit your shoulder again, and repeatedly hit the spot you needed, saying “I want you to come on it baby, give me another one. I want another one.” You came a second time, hearing him.

“Fuck… Hermosa. You pussy is squeezing me so hard… Keep coming on my cock, fuck…”

Your voice trembling, you said “come in my pussy, Javi. Fill me up. Wanna feel you shoot your cum in me, please…”

He grunted again, before you felt the pulsing of his cock as he expelled his cum inside you.

He released his fingers' grip on your hips, stroking them where they had been pressed seconds before, and kissed where he had bitten you, still buried in your cunt. Both of you regained your senses for a few minutes, your breathing gradually returning to normal.

He pulled out and got dressed, while you put your panties and skirt back in place. He looked at you while fastening his belt, then said “don’t forget your promise, Hermosa.”

You looked at him, gave him your best smile, and said “and not getting fucked like that in this room again? Come on Javi…"

You went to open the door, a smile on your face, feeling his cum making your already soaked panties even wetter, and heard his long sigh when you brushed against him.

**********************

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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Merry Christmas Darthfuzz 🎄 I love these tlou videos that we share regularly 😍

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 5

Warnings: swearing, angst

It was almost 8pm when Sam sat down to eat dinner in the compounds dining room with Steve, Clint and Nat. They were all exhausted, having been awake since 3am trying to get a lead on Bucky and Sharon's whereabouts.

He craned his neck and looked around the crowded room.

"Hey, has anyone seen Cookie? I stopped by her office earlier but haven't seen her since. She has a bad habit of working through meals and bed time."

The others all shook their heads and mumbled something in the negative.

Sam frowned "I should take some food up to her, maybe remind her to get some sleep."

Nat scoffed "She's a grown woman, she can take care of herself. Besides, it wouldn't hurt her to skip a meal. Or two."

Sam gave her an off look "What the Hell Romanoff? Cookie's gorgeous as she is, why are your claws out? Still miffed Barnes was giving her so much attention?"

Nat smirked "Was being the keyword in that sentence. Watching that little social climber being iced out by the Winter Soldier has been a source of great joy for me. She should have stayed in her lane with the other nerds instead of trying to sleep her way up."

Sam shook his head "Mee-ow, Romanoff. Didn't realize you felt so threatened by her. Well I'm going to look in on her. See you around."

Sam went into the kitchen to make a plate for Cookie before heading up to her office.

Clint looked at Nat "What is your problem with Cookie? She's a sweetheart and the best analyst here. I'm gonna hit my rack while I can. Later."

Nat sat with Steve for a few more minutes before standing up. "I have some leads to look into. See ya."

Steve shook his head at his friends strange behavior but wrote it off as stress over the missing agents and dove into his food.

Sam left the elevator on the mission support floor and was surprised to find Cookie's office locked up, lights out. He figured she must have gone to bed and headed for her room. He knocked on her door and when there was no response he felt like he needed to be sure.

"Friday? Where's Cookie?"

"Agent Y/L/N left the compound with Agent Iris Daniels at 1:17 this afternoon."

"Wait, what? She's gone?"

"Yes Captain Wilson."

Sam shook his head "This isn't good. Why would she just leave?" He mumbled to himself, before asking

"Friday, did she leave any word of where she was going or when she would return?"

"I'm sorry Captain Wilson she didn't."

"Fuck! Friday, can you find her?"

"I'm on it, Captain."

"Where's Stark?"

"Mr Stark is in his lab."

"Can you tell him I'm on my way there. We need to talk. And tell Rogers too."

"Of course, Captain."

Sam hurried up to Tony Starks lab, followed by Steve.

Tony looked up "What's up, Captains? Any leads on Carter and Barnes?"

Sam shook his head "No, there's another problem."

Tony tensed "Now what?"

"Cookie is gone. She left early this afternoon with one of her analysts. Didn't leave a note or tell anyone where she went. I tried to call both of them but it went straight to voicemail. Considering the tension between Cookie, Bucky and Carter this seems to have gotten more serious. Cookie knows more about the classified workings here than anyone else. Carter might find her useful."

Steve tried to protest "I'm sure Cookie is just following a lead, I doubt she's in any kind of trouble. Just because she had a falling out with Bucky, doesn't mean he would let anything happen to her."

Tony closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Really Rogers? I know you're not around much but Barnes and Carter have effectively iced Cookie out, she's with Sam more than she's with Barnes." he rubbed his neck

"Friday, any clues where they might have gone?"

"No, boss but Captain Wilson started a search for her and the agent she left with. I'll let you know if I find them."

Sam looked at Tony "There has to be more we can do than sit here waiting for one of them to pop up in Fridays search."

Tony sighed "Friday, how did they leave the compound?"

"They took one of your cars, boss."

Tony shouted, Sam and Steve flinched "That's it, find that car."

"I'll notify you when I do Mr Stark."

Tony notified the rest of the team to suit up and be ready to go as soon as they had a location.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky woke up with a start, he could feel that he was sitting on a dirt floor, against a cold concrete wall, wrists bound behind his back with some kind of handcuffs that he couldn't get out of. Ankles bound together as well. He opened his eyes and the room was dark with a musty, earthy smell. He couldn't see much and concluded he was probably in a basement since there were no windows.

He shook his head to try and clear it.

He remembered talking to Sharon after waking up in a cabin upstate but when he tried to remember anything else his head started pounding again and he gave up.

Bucky decided to see if he could find anything and pushed against the wall to stand up. He kept next to the wall and took small steps around the room to see if he could find a way out or if there was anything he could use as a weapon.

He bumped into what felt like another wall but he couldn't see it, even though his eyes were adjusted to the dark, and it seemed too close to be a wall. He shuffled along next to it until he came to another corner.

Bucky snapped around when he heard a door open then flinched when a light came on.

"Aahhh, you're awake finally. Your little friend is still out so we will have to wait to get started."

Bucky moved towards the voice and ran into a clear wall but could see her on the other side of the wall smiling. He growled when he couldn't push through the wall. "Sharon? What the fuck is going on?"

Sharon chuckled "Oh Bucky, poor confused baby. I'm not a Bond villain who is going to explain my whole plan while you figure out how to escape. You'll just have to wait and see. Don't worry your precious Cookie should be awake soon."

She motioned her head to his right.

Bucky felt like he couldn't breathe when he saw Cookie tied up on the floor and unconscious, in a second, smaller room with clear walls. Sharon approached her and dumped a bucket of water on her before leaving that room and sitting on one of the steps that led upstairs.

Cookie jerked and spluttered awake when the water hit her "Wh what th th the fuck?"

Sharon clapped happily "Oh good, you're awake. Don't worry, this won't take too long. I'm just so excited that we finally get to do this."

Bucky slammed his shoulder against the wall with no effect. "Dammit Sharon, let her go. She doesn't have anything to do with this. You have me, I did everything you asked so just leave her alone."

Sharon giggled "That's not true, you refused to kill her for me but don't worry, we're going to fix that today."

Bucky shook his head "No Sharon, you don't need to do this. You already have me."

Sharon sighed "Typical man, thinks it's all about him. Did it ever occur to you that the head of intel might be valuable to bad actors? Her head has so much information, more than anyone except maybe Fury."

Cookie spoke up "You're crazy if you think I'm telling you anything. I don't care if you torture me. You won't get anything from me."

Sharon laughed "You know, most of the people who say that end up spilling their guts when it starts to hurt. That's ok, I have other options. Antonia?"

A woman came down the stairs to stand next to Sharon, Cookie did a double take "Antonia? Dreykov? But that's Iris? What are you doing here? You said we-" she shook her head "You're the mole. Why?"

Antonia pulled off the photostatic veil to reveal her own face and smiled "For my father, to bring the Red Room back to its former glory. Once you're gone, I'll take your job and be able to access all the top level intel you refused to share. If you had just let me in, you wouldn't be here now."

Bucky slammed himself against the wall separating him from Sharon. "No, please. You can't kill her. I'll go with you willingly, I'll be yours, just don't hurt her."

Sharon smirked "You will come with me either way. We've been tweaking the mind control serum that Dreykov created so you shouldn't be able to break free like you have been. The Super soldier serum helped you keep waking up from the mind control but we've found a way to compensate for that so you won't even be sad your precious Cookie is dead." She winked at him "Or that you killed her."

As if on cue Natasha descended the stairs with her sister Yelena and handed a small tranq dart to Sharon "Here's the serum for Barnes. Let's get this over with before Stark figures out where we are."

Bucky stared at Natasha "Why are you doing this? Betraying the Avengers, hurting more innocent people?"

Nat smirked "I told you all of it, don't you remember? The morning after you fucked her.

***Flashback***

Bucky woke up from one of the best nights sleep he had ever had and smiled when he felt a warm body next to him, Cookie. He pulled her into him, amazed that she was here in his bed. That she wanted him too. He could tell the sun wasn't up yet so he closed his eyes and dozed off.

A little while later he woke again, needing to pee, so carefully extracted himself. When he was done he saw the time and hurried to meet Steve and Sam for their morning run.

When he got to the lobby he saw neither of them were there so decided on a short run so he could get back to Cookie. He smiled as he thought about her cuddled up in his bed and spending the day in bed together.

Before he was through the doors he heard Nat calling him. She propositioned him but he refused and told her about him and Cookie.

Nat frowned and shook her head "I have to apologize in advance then." She pulled something out of her pocket and gently slapped his neck.

Bucky pulled back "Owww, what was that?"

Nat sighed "A serum that Dreykov used to control the Widows."

Bucky looked at her, confused "Mind control? What are you doing, Nat? I- whu" he closed his eyes and when he opened them they were emotionless.

Nat grinned "Soldat?"

"готов подчиниться" Ready to comply

Nat smiled "Good boy. Now take your run, then go tell Cookie you just want sex, make some excuse up. And then stay away from her, Sharon will be here soon to be your handler. Once all is said and done, Cookie, Sharon and the rest of the Avengers will all be dead and you will be by my side. The Black Widow and Winter Soldier, running SWORD, HYDRA and the Red Room together."

Bucky nodded.

She showed him a picture of Sharon and repeated "Handler"

Then she patted his cheek "Go on, Soldat. Complete your mission."

Bucky nodded "миссия" Mission

Nat shook her head "That won't do. Soldat? I need you to act like Barnes or this won't work. Relax"

Soldat nodded and smirked "Of course, Natty. I'll take care of everything for you."

Then jogged off around the lake before heading back to the compound to break Cookies heart.

***end Flashback***

Bucky shook his head "Why did you make me hurt Cookie? I would never do that, I'm in love with her."

Cookie gasped "But-"

Sharon snapped "But nothing. I'm bored" she went into the room where Bucky was. He tried to fight her but with his arms and legs bound she was able to get close enough to hit him with the dart. She quickly backed away and Nat pushed a button that lowered the wall between Soldat and Cookie.

"Soldat?"

Bucky stood up straight "готов подчиниться" Ready to comply

Cookie cried out "No, Bucky please. Don't let her do this. Bucky!!"

Natasha glared at Cookie and clicked on a remote that unlocked Bucky's restraints "Enough of your whining. Soldat, kill her."

The Soldat nodded and then turned to Cookie who was cowering against the wall. She tried to push herself up to standing but the Soldat was too fast and wrapped his vibranium hand around her throat and lifted her up until her feet couldn't reach the ground.

Cookie looked at the cold face of her friend, the man she had loved for 2 years and rasped out "Bucky. Please." She looked into his emotionless eyes and she realized this was it, she closed her eyes and tried to say "I forgive you" as she lost consciousness.

[powderblueblood]

HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER TEN — THE NEW FACE OF FAILURE

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

summary: a surprise visitor shows up at nancy wheeler's house during your sleepover. eddie has a run-in with steve harrington and gets some hard-to-choke down news from a teacher. things with your newly released convict father seem to be going... eerily well. content warnings: does excessive yappin count. cussin! shitty dads! allusion to past physical abuse! drugs and smoking! heavy pettin! lovesick and scared about it edlacy! word count: 11.6k

Dear reader, 

For the first time in forever, I have nothing smart to say. I mean, really. For the first time in forever, when things have reached a previously unprecedented crescendo of shit-hitting-fannery, when my life has truly shown every possible sign of being headed toward complete ruin, when it’s not just opposite day but bizarro world incarnate, I feel…

Good. 

Because I’m looking at him. 

And he’s looking back at me.

And Nancy Wheeler is yelling for him to get in the goddamned window. 

Eddie Munson has no business standing outside the Wheeler’s garage with a fistful of pebbles, cautiously flicking them at a second story window, yet he is. The soft pelting noise had made your neck jerk up from where it craned over Nancy’s nails, painting them a springy green and go, “Do you hear that or is it my paranoia talking?”

See, when you woke up that morning, you knew you had two phone calls to make. Instead of using the traceable line of your house phone, you’d snatched a handful of quarters and booked it to the payphone at the edge of the lot. You’d almost stopped at the Munson trailer, tossing your own rocks at Eddie’s window, but thought better of it– there was always a chance that the newly exonerated (sort of) Ray Doevski would be peering through the blinds, taking a Rear Window affect to his newly instated house arrest. 

Yeah. House arrest, and you were sure that the same crack had run concurrently through the minds of you and both your parents– we’d hardly call this a house. But Ray was ordered to stay put, and even had this nutty gadget tagged to his ankle, this new fangled monitor that they were just rolling out. 

“Always on the cutting edge, aren’t you, Daddy?” 

With shaking fingers, you thunked in Eddie’s number, which he’d scrawled inside the cover of a Flannery O’Connor short story collection you’d been carting around a couple of months ago. It was one of those days that came up every now and again, where you couldn’t quite keep the lid on feeling blue. The weight of everything came down on you in an avalanche, leaving you unable to throw your pithy remarks into conversation with him or with Ronnie like you usually would’ve. Pretty much silent, pretty much staring a hole through the middle distance. He grabbed the book from you in the library during free period, your free period which he wasn’t even in, and whispered, “Just in case that curse gets lifted and you get your voice back. I’m sure you’ve got, like, a laundry list of barbs you’ve been dying to unload on me all day.” 

You remembered the way his eyes softened as he slid the book back to you, pressing his ringed hand against the cover for a couple seconds longer than he needed to. 

“Or just… for anything, y’know. We can just talk. About nothing. If it helps.”

At the time, you fought the instinct to put your hand over his.

“Won’t Wayne care that I’m calling?” you’d crackled, voice weary from underuse. 

Eddie shrugged. “Not if you pretend you’re Gareth.”

And that was exactly what you were hoping you wouldn’t have to do, shivering in your thin sweater as the dial tone to the Munson’s droned out. What if Wayne answered? What if you couldn’t rightfully approximate the voice of a balls-half-dropped freshman? What if he knew it was you, what would he do? 

Well, you needn’t have worried, because you apparently had a future in impressions. You squeaked out something about being the aforementioned Emerson looking for Eddie (at this ungodly hour of the morning?), something about Hellfire. 

“Gareth the Great! What’s the problem, the Arcane Brotherhood finally scoop your ass? Need me to come bust you from their tower? I told you, goin’ all Fear and Loathing in Luskan is gonna cost y–”

“Jesus Christ, Eddie, it’s me,” you chattered, but even through the worry, a tiny smile pulled at your lips. 

 “Uh. Disregard everything I just said.” His voice had an early-morning static to it that you wanted to stay tuned into. “Hi!”

“Hi.”

“Hi… are you… shivering right now? Need me to come warm you up, because I’d be more than happy to cr–”

“Eddie, I’m at the payphone–”

“--what the hell are you doin’ out there?”

“--will you shut up so I can tell you? I don’t have a lot of time, so I need to cut right to the chase.”

“Sorry,” and this breathy little laugh runs through his voice that nearly knocks you clean out. God. What you wouldn’t give to hear that breathed into your ear instead of through some handset flaking rust. “Please, cut away.”

But, uh, yeah. That other thing. 

“My father got out of prison some-fucking-how–”

“Wait, what? Like he esc–,” you listen as Eddie drops his voice to a hiss, “Like he escaped?!”

“Oh my god, let me finish! –but, psh, no. Ray Doevski is a man of manicured hand, alright, he’s not tunneling out of anywhere. It’s all apparently legally above board, but… he’s– he’s at home. He’s in the trailer… He’s there right now.”

The fear in your chest was beginning to make your breathing feel white hot, hard to get out. Walls closing in. Your dad is at home. He is in your trailer. He is there right now. Five minutes alone in your room, a flick of his eyes over your belongings, he’ll know everything– everything that you’ve done–

You didn’t even notice that your breaths were turning into low, panicked gasps until Eddie’s voice broke through the receiver again. 

“Lace, stay put. I’m comin’ out there.”

“Eddie, no!” you barked down the phone, and a couple of birds scattered from the powerline overhead. Despite the fact that you were pretty sure collapsing into Eddie’s arms would have put a temporary stopper on the panic, you weren’t awarded such luxuries in this life. Figures. “I’ve got to get back to have some phony-ass breakfast with them in, like, now and you cannot be seen near me. Not here, okay?”

What Eddie crackled back with was like a shot of adrenaline to the heart chamber. It wasn’t a plea, or a demand. He simply said, brimming with a bright resolve, “Say the word and I’m there. Right next to you. Hear me?”

You had never heard anyone sound so sure about you before. 

Well, Eddie’s valiance was rivaled only by Nancy Wheeler, who you phoned up next. Karen Wheeler answered in a chirpy voice that even sounded blonde, her voice pitching higher when you announced who was calling. 

“Oh, Lacy! Of course. I’ll grab her for you, sweetie.” A little too goddamn knowing-sounding for your liking. 

But Nancy was all firm edges, picking up on the tremble in your voice just like Eddie had. “Well, you’re coming over. Obviously. Pack a bag– we need to put in serious work for that Streak article you’re finishing, right? Might even be an all-nighter. I’ll order pizza.”

With your dad shackled to the trailer and your mom reluctant to leave his side, there wasn’t a whole lot they could do to prevent you from swanning off to the Wheeler residence. Had to stay true to your commitments, after all, something your dad constantly impressed upon you. But when you reminded him of this as you hitched your overnight bag over your shoulder, heading out to Nancy’s waiting car, he met you with a serene smile. 

“Of course, honey. Do what you need to do.” No argument. No pushback. Not even a snide remark. That chilled you to the bone. 

You attempted to distract yourself from… well, the whole meal of it, by allowing the Precious Moments-themed decor of the Wheeler household to wash over you. The house is warm and chintzy inside, with shoes piled up by the door and laundry overflowing in baskets. Nancy’s bedroom is just as achingly normal in tones of pink and cream, a sanctuary and a strangle between girlhood and growing up. She’d shyly batted a couple of stuffed animals away from the bed that had seen the throes of her and Steve Harrington. Her Tom Cruise poster hangs opposite a pinboard of college brochures. Barbara Holland’s memorial card on her mirror. 

Guilt and innocence and upward mobility. 

As you looked around, you thought about the photo strips from the mall of you and Tina and Cass and Carol, how they were stuffed away in a box somewhere. You made a mental note to tug Nancy into the next photobooth you both came across. And Ronnie, for that matter. 

Nancy was kind about everything, of course, like she always is; she didn’t push for information about your dad’s surprise return, but you gave it pretty willingly as you cracked into her Cosmo and nail polish collection. Everything but the you and Eddie of it all… that juicy morsel you were saving until the witching hour struck, the customary time for girls to tell secrets at sleepovers. 

But somebody always has to try and get the jump on you. 

Which is how you and Nancy end up hanging out of her window, a beaming Eddie staring up at you from the pavement. 

“What the hell is he doing down there?” Nancy hisses, her eyes panicked and flaring. 

“I’m not entirely sure,” but even through the initial flash of panic, your voice has taken on this dreamy quality that makes Nancy roll her eyes–and rightfully so! “Munson, what say you? What the hell are you doing down there?”

“I–”

Nancy doesn’t even let him finish, just lets out an exasperated sigh and tells him, “Just– come up here, alright? I do not want to answer for what’s gonna happen if my dad catches you in the driveway!” 

Without a second thought, Eddie makes to hoist himself into Nancy’s dinky bedroom window. He falls over the little seat in a jangle of silver and leather and hair and gleaming teeth– “Ow! Jesus!” “Eddie, shut. Up!” Nancy winces, you wince, but as Eddie rolls onto his back and clears the hair out of his eyes, you realize that fluttering in your stomach is not a fight or flight response. 

He smiles up at you, all teeth and mischief. “Hi. Whatcha doin’?”

Oh, no.

You nudge him in the ribs with your foot, way too light for him to yelp like that. Nancy looks like she’s going to kick the shit out of him for real–and you too, maybe.

“You’re telling me you didn’t know about this?” she demands, turning on you. You notice that she’s still holding her fingers aloft, which you appreciate! No one seems to care about manicures as much as you do. It’s nice to finally be seen, for Chrissake. 

“Like I’d bring the heat around your place, Nancy! Come on, currently in a precarious situation much?” 

Hilarious to describe Eddie Munson as heat when he is, at best, a bull in Wheeler’s overstuffed china shop. Adorably so, you have to concede, watching him pick up a little porcelain figurine from her dresser. 

Nancy’s not buying it.

“I plead the eternal fifth!” you exclaim, eyes wide and willing the laugh to stay out of your voice as Eddie peers around Nancy’s stuff. “He operates on his own logic.”

Nancy eyes you warily before her gaze darts to Eddie. “Can you not touch anything? ”

“You have a cat just like this!” Eddie barks.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” the both of you chorus.

Delicately, Eddie replaces the little ceramic cat with a severely offended look. “Sheesh, ladies, I thought we were friends.” He drops the pretense pretty fast, jerking his chin in your direction with a smile that has I ain’t goin’ nowhere written all over it. “I need a word with the duchess here.”  

“So leave a message!” 

“He can’t–” “--you think we got answering machines in Forest Hills?” “--my dad–” “--life might be different for all you up here on Maple–” “--will have him taken out by sniper rifle.” “--you know this woman used a payphone for the first time in her life today?” 

A squinting Nancy lets this settle in the air for a second, like a stink bomb that’s just been deployed. I mean, you don’t know if she can see it exactly, but the charge between you and Eddie isn’t exactly subtle. Changed, maybe, from will-they-won’t-they to they-did-and-it’s-hazardous. Realization soon dawns on her. 

“Oh, you–ohhh,” Nancy nods, and chirps another, “Oh!” 

Then, a thunderous hammering that just about brings down Nancy’s bedroom door. The three of you lurch and freeze. Your hand instinctively goes to grab Eddie’s arm, fingers finding the soft leather. Your lashes flutter.

“Nan-cyyyyy!” 

That high-pitched, middle-schooled, reedy little tone? “Oh, shit. It’s just Mike.” 

“Mom said you were getting pizza so you have to get a pie for me and the guys! Wait,” some juvenile sounding muttering, “Two pies!” 

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Nancy snarls, in the way only an older sister can, “I… am going to go out there and run interference and you– five minutes, okay?! I’m–” She goes so far as to set a timer on her watch. “I mean it.”

Both you and Eddie make noises in the affirmative, him sidling closer and closer to you as Nancy moves out of the room. But she pivots, nailing you both with pointed index fingers. “And don’t– don’t you even think about it. You two are not subtle, I will know!” 

“Wheeler, I resent that perverted implication!” Eddie hisses, but his fingers are already walking themselves over the curve of your ass. You’d say something if you weren’t desperately trying to keep yourself under control. 

“Mike, quit yelling the house down like an asshole!” “Who is that? Have you and Lacy got a guy in there? Gross, are you sharing a boyfriend or something?” “Shut up, don’t be disgusting, I’ll kill you, get downstairs!” 

Soon as Nancy’s door clicks behind her, you wrestle an easily malleable Eddie down to sit on the bed and climb right into his lap, thighs planting either side of him. Your body is completely abuzz now that you’re alone with him again, physical form melding instantly to the heat of his body. Eddie’s gaze darkens just a touch, like he’s dimmed the switch inside his head from mischievous to slightly dastardly. “Oh, shut up!” you say, and catch your mouth on his.

“I didn’t say shit!” Eddie breathes in return, falling right into your rhythm. 

“You heard the chief,” you struggle through desperate lip smacking; that lived in taste of him, cigarettes and sweet soda, makes your head feel all baubly on the stem of your neck, “Five minutes,” Eddie’s hands web into your hair, your knees sag into the comforter, “Explain yourself.”

“I was in the neighborhood,” Eddie’s mouth clicks sweetly against yours, words a bullshit mumble against your tongue. A heady mix of relief and desire flood you as you brace your hands around his shoulders. 

“Don’t lie,” you say, tinge of a whimper creeping in as Eddie’s grip starts to harden, indenting the flesh of your thigh. “I’ll kill you.” 

Looking at his grin is one thing, but feeling it against your neck as his mouth embarks on its own journey is something completely different. “Prom–”

“Eddie, how did you even know I was here?” A light, mindless slap comes down on his shoulder. Your breathing is becoming troublingly labored, head becoming troublingly spinny as Eddie’s teeth graze your collarbone.

“Rudimentary guesswork!” he gasps, coming up for air that’s soon stolen by the ready plushness of your mouth. “Okay. Okay. Fine, I saw Wheeler pick you up in her goddamn station wagon and–” Eddie’s voice cracks a touch as your hips press harder into him, “--put two and two together?”

“And you came here because…? Expound, already!” Your furious, air-starved hiss is a stark contrast to the way your lips keep chasing his.

“I wanted to c– I needed to come–” he swallows your stupid blooming smirk with another kiss, “Shut up. I wanted to make sure you were okay. And I couldn’t sleep. Could you sleep? I couldn’t sleep, just kept thinkin’... Kept… hnm, thinkin’ about you… About you like this… ‘n last night…”

As he babbles, your heart jackrabbits. Christ, you want him so bad. You’d listen to him like this for hours–talking like this alone, open and wanting, is enough to get you off. Eddie’s easing your skirt up your ass, rucking that fabric up slow like he did last night–but you want more than last night, if that’s possible, you want all of him, and for longer and for good–

You want him so badly that you forget where you are. Eyes snap open to catch direct iris-on-iris contact with Nancy’s Tom Cruise poster, hung strategically in view from her bed. 

Nancy’s bed. Nancy’s room. Nancy’s fucking Tom Cruise poster.

“Shit,” you say in a strangle, right against his cheek. “Shit, what are we doing?” You rear right back, getting a good look at Eddie’s ruffled demeanor, his blush-high complexion. That intoxicated look he’s wearing just from feeling you up.

Someone looking at you the way Eddie is right now feels completely, totally brand new. Ardent and urgent, untouched by influence. 

You’re almost positive that your gulp is audible.

With a couple of rapid blinks, Eddie seems to come back down to earth. 

“No. No, you’re right, um– listen, at the risk of completely humiliating myself–”

“More than you did crawling in that window? This is crazed.”

Eddie pauses a beat, a genuine look of offense constricting his features. His hands have moved from your ass to your waist, and don’t shift. 

“Hold on–Doevski, are you marking my dismount?”

You assholes just can’t help yourselves, can you? Mouth twitching at the corners, you harden up your gaze.

“I’m just saying, if you weren’t wearing ten tonnes of regalia, you might be able to make a more subtle entrance–”

“--who died and made you a hellenodikas?”

“Oh! Pulling out the Ancient Greek mythology on me now, huh?”

“I would never… pull out on you,” Eddie says and manages to hold his stone faced expression for a grand total of half a second before both your faces split in two. See, you hate him for this; that he can keep perfectly in time with you, and has since the jump. 

You’re the first to move. You edge yourself off Eddie’s lap, his hands mournfully side along your legs as you move.

“C’mon. Montague moment’s over. Kick rocks.”

He gives you one good, solid nod and mockingly straightens himself out before attempting to worm his way back out the window. Crouching half in-half out, he pauses. Some remnant of a smile he smiled at you about a million years ago flickers across his face.

“You know, Lace,” Eddie says, “you keep throwin’ me out of windows like this, I’m gonna start thinkin’ you don’t like me.”

The door of the record store. The hot blast of stoned realization. Your fingers around his wrist. 

Knees working faster than your brain, you bend to Eddie and meet his mouth again. The kiss is soft and gentle, devolving into several little pecks around his smiling cheeks, his eyes, his forehead. To tide you over. To be continued.

“Eh, I don’t like you,” you mumble, tips of your noses brushing. “That much.”

“Yeah? Well, you got a funny way of showing it.”

You watch Eddie’s dismount (an easy six) and nervous jog all the way ‘til he’s disappeared through the shrubbery of the Wheeler’s. Soon as he’s out of sight, you’re almost positive that you catch a flash of burgundy paintwork zipping past the driveway, but it’s too fast to tell. Weird. 

Nancy near slices your fingers clean off as she noiselessly returns to the room, slamming the window shut. For as enraged as she’s trying to look, this girl with her half-painted nails also bears the familiar expression of someone baying for gossip. 

“Spill everything. Right now.” 

—

Eddie is a living, breathing, stink bomb of a cliche. He’s walking on air, he’s signed a lease on cloud nine, he’s all Gene Kelly’d out and still tap dancing down the locker lined steel trap of Hawkins High. Push back his curling bangs and he’s sure that PROPERTY OF LACY DOEVSKI is etched on his forehead, by the delicate hand that wields your fountain pen. 

Dude’s a goner. Lights out, KO’d, hit the bricks gone. And he only has himself to blame. 

If it were anyone else, he’s pretty sure it’d be different. Easier to stamp out the flame of hotheaded lust beneath his sneakers like a bag of dogshit on fire if it was some other right-side-of-town type girl. If it was just about being his diametric opposite. But it’s not. It’s you, sharp and silly and sexy, a total turn on even when you’re doing your best O’Donnell impression to sic him into studying. The you that he’s been slyly slipping into the NPCs of Hellfire, in ways that make Ronnie’s eyes roll (but she still tries to flirt with them, and that weirdly makes him a little… jealous? That dwarf is slick when she wants to be). The you that sometimes make a cameo appearance at his lunch table when you’re not holed up in the newspaper room, sat with poise and pith that the rest of the gaggle of nerds just don’t know what to do with. 

Eddie can’t count the amount of times he’s wanted to crawl across that table and kiss you. And he’s been close to doing it. Couple times. Remnants of sloppy joes on his hands and knees.

But now he can kiss you, at least in private anyway, because there’s still a roadblock or two you have to navigate. And so what! What’s a little challenge when you’re this blissfully, head fuckerly, heartburningly in l—

“Watch where you’re going, asshole.” 

This particular dagger comes straight out of the maw of Hawkins High’s crown jackass, Steve Harrington, whose shoulder Eddie’s just accidentally checked. Now, Eddie’s never cared much for Harrington, but never thought much about him either—the feeling, outside of scoring a baggie or two, is apparently mutual. But the glower Steve is sporting says anything but nonchalance. 

“Jeez, Harrington,” the grin Eddie’s sporting makes a full meal out of a plate of shit, “If you like me so much, you can just say so. No need for the whole pullin’ pigtails routine.”

Steve stares at him for a good, hard second or two— so rigidly, in fact, that it nearly makes Eddie’s face falter. Who pissed in this guy’s Cheerios? Because, even if he double counts on his fingers, Eddie’s sure it wasn’t him. 

“I,” Steve starts, pretty dumbly, “I’m havin’ a party on Friday. You should come.”

Eddie knows an order when he hears one, but it’s usually couched in something like, You got any good stuff, man? Y’know, phrased in the strained way popular kids do when they pretend not to hate his guts for half a second. 

He knocks a mocking two fingered salute off his forehead and Steve’s grimace deepens. “Be there with bells on, sire.”

Up the hallway, one of the classroom doors creaks open. 

“I don’t have all afternoon, Mr Munson.” 

Steve looks past him to the imposing, near-six foot figure of Ms O’Donnell, impatiently tapping her shoes against the linoleum. Eddie’s smirk flattens into a tight line.

“Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m in high demand! As you can see.”

Steve doesn’t dignify that with a response and takes off toward the exit. 

“Quit gazing after the quarterback and get in here,” O’Donnell demands. And who is Eddie to deny her, Amazonian Baba Yaga that she is? 

“Ms O’Deeeee, you call yourself a Hawkins Tiger?” he says, turning on heel, “You oughta know that Harrington is one of our finest ball players. Loves to play with balls, that one.”

“You can attest to that first hand, can you?” O’Donnell snarks, settling down behind her desk and gesturing Eddie to get comfortable at the top of the class. 

Oh, Iris. She’s right on his level, when she’s not tearing him a new asshole, scholastically speaking. 

Her name may not be Iris either, but tomato potato. Eddie slumps down into the desk like a graceless, clinking cat.

“I know you didn’t bring me here to talk about my extracurriculars. That would be a breach of propriety on your part.”

“Sure as hell I did not.” O’Donnell removes her eyeglasses and pinches the bridge of her nose, as she often does not even thirty seconds into an interaction with Eddie. “I’m missing my granddaughter’s recital for this, I want you to know that.” 

He’s pulled out the there’s no way you’re old enough to be a grandmother line half a dozen too many times for it to fly again. Not that it ever did— look at this woman, with her tented fingers! She has a clear sight line right through his bullshit. 

“I appreciate that you value my education more than some pipsqueak with a cello.” 

“The problem is that you don’t,” O’Donnell sighs. There’s a note of defeat in her voice. “Eddie, we need to talk.” 

In all the years O’Donnell has been on his case (four consecutive), she’s never addressed him by his first name. Eddie shifts in his seat a little, good mood not quite punctured yet. But askew, slightly. 

“They finally found out about our clandestine little tryst, huh? Well, you can tell Higgins and the school board that I’m—“

“Shut up.”

He does. Right up.

“You understand why I push you so hard, don’t you?” O’Donnell asks him, and instead of some smartass response, Eddie clams. Ask him honestly and he’d say she’s a past-prime faculty lifer in desperate need of a power trip. That’s the narrative he’d always gone with anyway, the reason she’d always single him out and make an example of him and insist on the repeat exams he’d rarely end up passing anyways. Like, just flunk him, okay? Get the humiliation over with. 

“It’s because I know your situation,” she tells him, “And I know you’re better than it. By a goddamn country mile.” 

That knocks him. He blinks. Huh?

“You’re bright, you know. If you only allowed yourself to be,” O’Donnell nods, leafing through a manila folder in front of her, “If you could only find some way to focus, you’d be a halfway to decent student. Might even make it to college.”

“Don’t be too generous,” Eddie scoffs, arms folding over his chest. He can feel the defense rising. 

O’Donnell stares at him over the rim of her glasses. “Oh, I’m not. Because the reality is, you’re too far gone. I’ve done all I can to try and drag you out of the sandpit of shit you’ve managed to fall into, but our time is coming to a swift and brutal end.” 

A beat.

“Christ, who died and made you my guidance counselor—“

“You’re not graduating, Eddie.”

A cold sear runs down Eddie’s spine. “Um.”

Alright. Alright, look. It’s not like he hadn’t expected this, in some way or another, but again, if he is really honest… Eddie had expected some eleventh hour miracle that ended up with him with that diploma in his hand. Walking the stage in that godawful green gown, scooting down the line to take his place beside Ronnie and… and you. 

First Munson to ever do it, at least in the proud township Hawkins. Something solid to his name, finally. A GED that wasn’t necessarily a ticket to college, but proof that he could break the family curse of not following through. He didn’t need to be valedictorian or anything, he just needed… 

“But—but,” begins the scramble, “I’ve been doing… better, right? Like, I’ve gotten my grades up… not massively but a little!”

And he had. Fact is, these last handful of months, he hadnt just been dicking around with you and Ronnie after school— you’d actually gone out of your way to slice off some of those legendary brain smarts and slide them his way, bumping him up a letter grade in at least three subjects. 

You’d said something similar to O’Donnell.

You’ve got something, y’know, beyond all the hair and regalia. This system is rigged to fail anyone who surrenders to being, like, a bad test taker— so you just have to game the system and make it work for Eddie Munson. Right?

Then you’d poked him in the cheek with your number two pencil and he’d forgotten everything he’d ever learned, brain lingering on that little touch for days. 

That was before. Before your bedroom. Before Wheeler’s bedroom. Shit, before Granny Ecker’s closet. 

“Now, Eddie. Jesus. You’d need a miracle to get you anywhere close where you need to be to get out of here. Look, I am telling you this because I—“

“Why? Why do you even care? You’re the one that’s been failing me half the time.”

“Yes, because you’ve been failing, smartass! Think I’ve got a choice in the matter?” O’Donnell and her high Midwestern fury shuts him up again. “I’m telling you this because… well, it’s time to weigh up your options.” 

“Which are none.”

“Which could be none. The question on almost the entire faculty’s mind is, why haven’t you dropped out by now? And I’ve got a pretty good stab, I think.”

“Enlighten me, then.”

“Because, contrary to popular belief, you’re not your father.” 

Eddie has to look away. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I knew Al Munson. My first year here, I taught him. And I was green then, sure, in the goddamn dark ages but even then I knew he was just looking for any easy way out.” 

“And I’m not, huh?”

“No. Because you would’ve dropped out by now.” O’Donnell closes the folder like she’s seen enough. “Eddie, you have something to prove. And it’s worth proving.” 

Far be it from Eddie to believe that any teacher in this school actually gives a shit about him, but the glance he steals to O’Donnell makes a damn strong argument otherwise. 

“So w… what do I do?”

“God knows half the staff doesn’t want you around for another year. Sorry, but it’s true,” O’Donnell rolls her eyes and Eddie feels the sting of his last name, the skid mark of his father’s legacy following him wherever he goes, “I’ll work on it. Starting with Higgins, which should earn me canonization of some kind.”

“Castle in the sky and all that shit.”

Eddie doesn’t exactly nod; defiance is as strong as his white blood cells. He kind of wants O’Donnell to prove that she’s serious about helping him. About caring at all. 

She goes on, tone strict and pushing. 

“But you– keep your nose to the grindstone. Just because you’re not gonna pull through this year completely doesn’t mean that the improvement in the last couple of months meant nothing. I have noticed, by the way. And, uh, keep up the peer tutoring.” 

Eddie raises his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“Peer tutoring,” there’s amusement dancing in O’Donnell’s words that makes them a little uneven, “Lacy Doevski’s been so kind as to take you under her wing, hasn’t she?”

A shock of heat takes seat on his cheeks. Right. He’d forgotten about that scam you ran like a ride on lawnmower through Kaminsky’s class. 

“Y—yeah, somethin’ like that.”

“Well, keep that something going. It’s good. For the both of you,” O’Donnell clips with a knowing look. “I knew her father too.” 

She dismisses him with a wave and Eddie, feeling like she’d just made him tie up a pair of leaden boots, follows the tug of his deflated heart like a compass. A tread through the eerily empty after-hours halls brings back a memory here and there. Getting caught smoking under the stairwell on the first day of freshman year; a girl named Phoebe lending him a pencil in Biology, which he ended up using to pretend-stab Tommy Hagan who made fun of her stammer (Tommy cried like a bitch, as if Eddie would ever actually do that); fighting against his better judgment and jimmying the lock of a classroom open so he could help Gareth make a new character sheet for Hellfire and getting detention when they were found out, while the freshman hid under the desk so he wouldn’t be caught too. Plenty of little battles lost. But this is the big one–the one that tells him he’s doomed to repeat this adolescent torture for at least another year. 

However, as soon as he shoulders the swinging door open and sees you, bathed in a pool of lamplight with reams of typewriter paper surrounding you, and you pull your fountain pen from your mouth with a tired smile, stitched together just for him… 

KO. The big gold belt. Eddie Munson, heavyweight champion of the world.  

“Hey, Hildy,” he says, sliding down the short handrail into the typing pool, just because he knows it’ll make you roll your eyes and laugh. And it totally does, a croaky little giggle rasping out of your lips. “What’s the scoop?”

“Don’t you dare come any closer.” Your voice, your outstretched hand, makes Eddie freeze in a rigged marionette’s pose. It’s like your words have actual alchemic pull, how powerless he is to obey you and shit. “Let me just…”

“Seriously?” Eddie lets his arms drop, playing with a ball of elastic bands from the desk he sits on as you painstakingly reorganize your papers. “Y’know, I really should have an early preview of this, given I’m the star of the goddamn article and all. What if I object? What if you paint me in, like, an unflattering light? I could sue. Character defamation.”

“You’re taking care of that defamation all on your own, darling,” you yawn, the punch of your words not quite hitting like they usually would as you stagger across the newsroom to him. You’re exhausted–Eddie can see it. The deep shadows under your pretty eyes, new ink stains appearing on your fingers every day. You’re jerky and shaky, overcaffeinated to the point that the drug ain’t even working anymore. You’re working yourself to the bone. It’s been like this for ages; every spare moment that Eddie doesn’t see you, you’re playing catch up for college applications. “But no. Not ‘til it’s cooked and printed. My portfolio needs this article for a lead-in and it has to be bulletproof. Watertight. Unassailable. Other words for–”

“--perfect?” Eddie steps in, tossing the elastics over his shoulder and tugging you closer so that you’re just about sitting in his lap. “In that case, you chose a real winner of a subject.”

“Eddie.”

“No, seriously! Trailer park nobody with a fantasy game club. Wah-wah. I don’t envy the amount of fluffing you probably have to do to make it remotely appealing to… whoever’s in charge of reading that shit.” 

“Admissions board,” you supply. You’re close enough that Eddie can taste your perfume and honestly, he’s doing a great job of not just licking it clean off your neck. “And I know this is one of your self-pity rally cries, and I won���t entertain it. Besides, it’s not just about you. It’s about Hellfire. The whole… well, I’m not saying any more. You’re just gonna have to read it and find out.” 

“But I want my ego massaged,” Eddie pitifully whines, right out his nose. He clutches onto you harder, the pressure of your body against his alleviating the pressure of his total failure. His breath snags as you, so tired that you’re nearly trembling, kiss him softly. 

“Mm, let’s compromise. I can massage something else,” you hum against his chasing lips, but something saintly touches him before you get the chance to move your inky hand. He uh-uhs you. 

“Much as I appreciate the offer and will immediately curse myself for turning you down the second I get back to the trailer… you’re worn out, Lace. Seriously.” Eddie flicks a lock of your hair out of your face. Were you always like this, even when you were queen bitch? Did anyone ever think to check in on you before? “You been sleepin’? At all?”

“I have a countdown to my future and a convict father taking up residence on my couch. Of course I’m not sleeping. I’m optimizing,” you snit in the sleepiest voice he’s ever heard, your head is lolling against his shoulder. The pout you’re wearing makes Eddie want to bundle you right back to Forest Hills, tuck you up in his grody sheets and not let the rest of the world in ‘til you’ve got your strength back. Just you, him, some records. He’d read to you from The Silmarillion, because that was a surefire way to send you unconscious in seconds. 

“I just need to get this article done and then I’m… I’m good. It’s out of my hands,” you croak.

“Then it’s… NYU’s problem, right?” says Eddie.

“Columbia,” you murmur, “with Emerson as a safety.” 

“Lofty safety.”

“I’m a lofty girl. But you know what? I’m gonna get in.”

A pang in the key of dread hits Eddie in the throat. “I believe that.”

“But you know why?”

“Enlighten me.”

“Because of a silly little story I wrote about you.” You curl Eddie’s hair around your finger and he wonders if you can feel the physical sensation of him melting. Dripping all over you like a pathetic soft serve. “It’s so beyond comprehension but… You’re gonna make my dreams come true, Eddie Munson. I can feel it.”

About time I returned the favor, huh? is what he wants to say, but it’s not the time and it’s not the place and he thinks you might be drifting off in his arms. So he just breathes you in, and takes the win.

—

One thing Ray Doevski was always known to do was move. Not so much in a without exercise, the body devours itself kind of fashion, but in a without constantly one-upping oneself, the self devours itself kind of fashion. With Ray, moving was always some new business venture, some new property acquisition. Some other new reason for a cocktail party, so your mom would have an excuse to pretty herself up and you’d make your on-cue cameo, sweeping through the room and waving at all the important people your father had charmed and collected like stamps. And like stamps, the people he tended to collect all got more valuable with age. Ray liked old money, even if your family was on the newer end of the see-saw.

You saw all that for what it was now. Running the big scamola, charming these people out of pocket with that ugly Hawkins High class ring on his finger. Gold, garish, glaring, a glimmering green stone set right in the center. You hated that thing. 

So, to see someone so diligently dedicated to movement and momentum sit docile on the sofa is pretty fucking disturbing. With that ankle monitor permanently welded to his leg, Ray can’t do so much as stand outside for a smoke without the heat coming down on him. Such are the conditions of his parole. It’s a humiliating fate, watching someone so previously well-kempt rot before you. 

And more disturbing still, your father seems… not unhappy about his situation. As far as a man on house arrest goes, he’s not angry. He’s not irritable, he doesn’t even seem that frustrated. It’s strange. He’d even asked you to borrow a couple of your books to keep him occupied. That threw you. He’d never taken an interest in your voracious love for literature before… but boredom does absolute downright Invasion of the Body Snatchers type shit to a man.

He smiles at you from the corner of the sofa as you come in from an evening shift at the bookstore, your worn copy of Answered Prayers by Truman Capote in hand. It sends a cold dart through your tummy. 

“You!” comes a snarl and your elbow is being snatched before you can even regain your bearings. 

“What the f–”

Your mother slams her bedroom door so hard it seems to shake the trailer. It occurs to you that you haven’t stood inside her bedroom in weeks–months, maybe–or even seen inside of it save for the odd glance. Even then, it was always the sad staging of dresses and hose strewn across the bed, glasses with scarlet staining sitting on the nightstand and the smell of cigarette smoke and perfume growing old and flat and stale. But she’d straightened the place up– now the bedsheets sat tight around the corners of the mattress, and Gloriana’s jewelry was tidied away somewhere. No used wine glasses to behold. Like housekeeping had breezed through. 

She told you she worked as a maid once, ‘For about a minute. Before your father rescued me.’

“What’s your problem?” you snipe, rubbing your pinched elbow through your sweater sleeve. 

Your mother exhales a furious stream of smoke through her grit teeth, Dunhill poised, lit and ready. “You have to do something with him!” 

“Me?!” you hiss back. Alarm sets off a roil in your stomach. You’d made incredibly delicate work of avoiding your father since he landed on the other side of the trailer’s formica table, notching it all down to I’m eighteen, I’m about to graduate, I’ve got work to do! All of which is definitely true, but you’d padded it out a little. 

Padded it out with the time you spent with your lips on Eddie Munson’s lips, sure, but…

“Yes, you!” Gloriana spits, “Don’t think I’ve noticed how you’ve been skirting around him since he came back. Shouldn’t you be over the moon with yourself?”

“I am. I am over the moon.” Greatest lie you’d ever told. “He’s back! Hurray! We’re all happy families again. Do we get the house back? Do I get my car?”

Your mother’s lip lifts into a little smirk. “Oh, Lacy. Has someone gone and turned your head about Daddy? Knocked him off his pedestal?”

See, your mother’s always had this thing– this seething jealousy about the way you looked up to your father. Not necessarily because you never looked up to her the same way (you’d written plenty in your journal about the vapidity of being a ‘society wife’, as she definitely was– a kind of cornfed Midwestern Slim Keith, an ex-pageant girl from the unremarkable middle point of Hawkins who benefitted entirely from her once-poor husband’s grafting), but because you were there at all. Yearning for his approval and robbing his attention. 

Not like you ever got much of either. 

“You want I should call the cops and tell them he’s been running phone scams from the trailer?” 

Your mom lets out a little huff that could be mistaken for a laugh. “He just sits there, all day long. And when he’s not sitting, he’s curtain twitching.”

Just like you’d thought. Rear Window. Danger zone. 

“This place could use a neighborhood watch,” comes the pith through your nerves, “Has he seen anything good, at least?”

Gloriana rolls her eyes at you, hooded with the pretense of as if I’d tell you. “That’s the other thing. He doesn’t talk. But he does ask questions.” 

“Like?” you ask, after a rough swallow that alerts you to how dry your throat has suddenly gotten.

Finely penciled eyebrows quirk. It reminds you of how much your mother can resemble Ava Gardner, when she puts some chutzpah into it. “Better get out there if you want to keep him from his suspicions, is all I’m saying.” 

As if she knows more than she’s letting slip. 

“Shouldn’t you be over the moon? Aren’t you happy that he’s out?” You turn the mirror on her. Gloriana’s eyelids flicker, as if she’s exhausted by the mere question. 

“Of course I am. Don’t be ridiculous,” she sighs. “But some things… were easier. Before. You and I didn’t need to pretend–”

That we liked each other. 

“Yeah.” You snip right into her sentence because although you’re well aware of the scope of your mother’s feelings toward you, it still stings to hear it said out. She’s still your mom, after all. Or, she should be. 

Standing in this room is making you nauseous. 

“I’ll keep him occupied for a while.”

“Good. Thank you.”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

Moments later, you’re tossing a pack of cards on the little formica breakfast table. It used to be a universal language in your household, when your father was still feigning interest in you. He taught you to play cards, and taught you how to cheat at them. You only retained one of those things. Little miracles.

“Want to deal?”

Ray slowly closes the cover on Answered Prayers and rises to the table. 

“Why don’t you give it a try?” he says, a smile playing around his mouth. You resist the pull to roll your eyes, as if he’s bestowing such an honor on you—and wonder when exactly you did stop worshiping him.

Sometime between the last time you’d seen the back of his hand and the guilty verdict, you’re guessing. 

You lay out his hand, and yours. He archly remarks, “Gin?”

“I’ve gotten better.”

“You’ve gotten a lot of things, haven’t you?” Ray says, focusing on his cards. “Lot of things have changed.”

“What does that mean?”

“Look, I admit, I came on a little… strong that first night I came home.” Strong was one word for it; you’d call it more of a three-hour cross examination delivered while you were trapped inside an iron maiden. You’d shed as little light on the whole Munson situation as you could. He gave me a ride once or twice. We go to school together, what do you expect? “But can you blame me? With you and your mother living in… this place? I had to know. To be sure that you were safe.”

You want to think, he doesn’t give a shit about safety. He gives a shit about treason. About me fraternizing with his enemy’s offspring, or whatever. But the way he says it gives you pause. 

“It’s not so bad,” you shrug, swapping out a card. “It’s cozy.”

We’re not cozy people.

Ray takes a dig into the stock pile himself, regarding you with a curious look. “See what I mean? You seem… more willing to accept your circumstances. It’s interesting.”

The line between Ray Doevski praising and insulting you is like fishing line; depends on what he’s baiting you with. Accepting one’s circumstances was usually Doevskian for accepting failure.

“What, did you expect me to be kicking up tantrums about not having a clawfoot bathtub anymore? Because I’m not,” you smirk, “I’ve even adjusted to the notion of not always having hot water.”

Your mind flashes back to the small, square shower in the Munson trailer and you make a mental note to ask Eddie how his water heated to boiling within seconds. 

“That, I could personally never get used to.”

“Plumbing wasn’t so great in IDOC, I take it?”

“No. But that didn’t register so high on my scale of problems inside.”

“Was it scary?”

“Yes.”

“And were you… in danger?”

A long beat settles between you. Ray shifts in the vinyl-backed seat, a tiny squeak the only sound between him and his apparent discomfort. Chills, again. You get a chill. 

“... yes,” he says, and meets your eyes. They’ve sunk a fraction more than the last time you’d looked into them. Some of the gray shocks in his hair have turned white. Scary, to witness real evidence of your parents growing old. And frightened. “Lacy, I’d done badly by a lot of people. Some of them were even inside with me, and they wanted retribution, and that was fair. I could live with that,” depending on what end of a shiv he was on, you guessed, “But I also did badly by you. Very badly.”

Ah, acknowledgement that their father has lied about their criminal enterprises for the better part of her life–just what every little girl wants. It wasn’t as if you had still staunchly believed the not guilty campaign that your parents had spearheaded throughout Ray’s trial, even in the face of stony evidence. He was guilty; you had to figure out if you cared about the crimes, or the fact that he’d led you to believe he was so much better than he was. 

But this is the first time he’s really copped to it. 

You’re not quite sure what his admission is supposed to do, so you stare at your spades.  

“It makes sense that you don’t trust me anymore,” Ray goes on, “But I love you, and I always will. All I’ve ever wanted is to provide the best for you, the very best I could. Better than that, even– because that’s what you deserve. The whole world, Lacy.” 

Stomach churning, you wish he’d stop calling you that. Your nickname sounds wrong in his mouth. A world apart from the girl he thinks you are. 

“I just feel like you could’ve done that without skimming money off children’s charities,” you hear yourself saying before you register that your mouth is drawling off the words, “And laundering money through those rentals. And… what was it, drug trafficking? I lost count.”

Knowingly, you brace for explosion. Ray flipping the table, scattering his hand and laying an open palm across your face, the dull thunk of his Hawkins High class ring making contact with your cheekbone. That’d be something. Something solid. Something you could point to, that said I know who he is, I tried to stand up to him, I’m not him, please don’t think that I am.

But he doesn’t, so the line of your shoulders tense for no reason. He digs a cigarette out of the soft pack laying on the table and flicks it towards you with a fingertip. His right hand, ring finger bare. He’s not wearing it. 

He is wearing a sad grin of humility, shrugging like, well, kid, you got me there. Dead to rights.

He looks like somebody else. 

“So, how’s your life been, Lacy Doevski?” A charm dances around his tone, the way a flame dances around the edge of a photograph that doesn’t want to burn. 

And despite your best fucking instincts, despite the way that nickname falls out of his mouth like upchuck, despite the fact that you should hate him, there’s a change in the lighting around him that you just cannot help but want to engage with. 

“You really wanna know?”

“I really wanna know. Tell me everything. The road to Columbia, how’s that going? The newspaper. This job at the bookstore in town. Your friend, uh, Nancy, right? She seems like a nice kid. I know Ted Wheeler, a little bit. Went to school with him and her mom, Karen. And everybody knew Karen, but, uh, don’t mention that to Nancy!” He steals another card from the stock pile, but doesn’t discard one from his hand. You decide not to mention it. “I want to know everything, Lacy. I’ve been way too distracted with things that don’t matter as much as you. Call this… makin’ up for lost time.” 

Your shoulders shrug into themselves, like when you were a little kid and he’d let you sit on the big leather chair in his office after you’d sat outside the door for a solid hour, begging to come in. The corners of your lips pick up.

“Just about to finish my applications. I’m submitting this writing portfolio–”

“--I thought we talked about business school?”

You seize. You had. An effort in setting you up for a future of undebatable prestige started to sound more like sending you off to the meet market, the more your father talked about it. Business school is where you’ll meet young men of excellent character, Lorelei. Excellent family stock. It won’t hurt if they see that you’re smart, too. 

… why the everloving fu-huuuck would you go to business school when you spend every spare second of the day giving yourself carpal tunnel and preaching about that Woolfe chick, Lace? Nope, you need someplace with climbing ivy and people whose dissenting opinions on cliterature you can cat fight with. Eddie Munson, leaning over the counter at the Bookstore and shedding light on your secret desire to bury yourself in novels and pretention with his ever-burning flare of perception. 

Cliterature? you’d asked, brow an arch. 

Classic literature. As written by the fairer sex. Bronte and broads.

Well, Jesus Christ. Who died and let you lead the third wave of feminism, Munson?

“Um…” You hadn’t prepared a good defense for this. You felt a stab of nausea.

“It’s okay!” your dad chuckles, tapping you on the wrist in reassurance, “You changed your mind. That’s fine. But it’s still Columbia, right?”

“God, of course. Couldn’t imagine anywhere else.” 

“Good.” The smile reaches his eyes. “Sorry, your portfolio.”

“Right, uh– I’m just about polishing it off and I’ve got a great lead in, my last article for the Streak…” you trail off. A warning signal travels down your brain stem. Don’t tell him. Don’t tell him about Hellfire. You’ve got to keep him as far away as–

“About what?” Ray asks brightly. Picks up a card. Discards another. You see a twitch in his mouth. 

“An after school club,” you blurt. “My, um. My friend Ronnie’s in it. We were… lab partners. Junior year. Dissected frogs together.”

“Yeah, that really bonds people for life, huh?” Ray says. Not a trace of irony. “Well, I look forward to reading it. If you want me to. I know writers can be very precious about their work.” 

And their subjects.

“Uh, well. We’ll see. I might not want to jinx it after I send off my applications.” 

“Superstitious,” he smiles, “Just like your old man.”

“And I have a boyfriend.” The blurting just doesn’t let up from you, eh? Like you have to cover all your bases while Ray is swept up in this gregarious mood. “And he goes to… Ithaca. I think.”

Your father makes a face that stands up to some interpretation of, la-di-da, lookit you! and Christ, you’re nearly sure he’s bought it. College guy… he’d kind of fallen by the wayside since you took that trip to Saturday morning detention. He’d better fucking pick up if you call now, if he hadn’t gone back to Vermont or wherever. 

“Well, look, I’m glad you’ve kept that momentum even given… everything. And I’m glad you seem to be surrounding yourself with good, level-headed people.” People he would have called nobodies eight months ago. People you would have called nobodies eight months ago. “Like Nancy. And this Ronnie. And that you’ve stayed out of trouble, as much as you can.”

You swear you see his eyes flick to the window beside you. In the direction of the trailer across the way, where a warm yellow light glows from the bedroom. There’s a shake in your breath, but Ray isn’t quite done. 

“I’m incredibly proud of the woman you’re becoming, Lacy. And look at that–” His hand slaps down on the table, revealing his melds. “--gin! I thought you said you got better at this, kid!”

“You took me by surprise, Daddy. What can I say.”

—

“Quit that. That’s explosive cargo you’re flickin’.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Tap, tap, tap. One of the hinges of this rusty, crusty, dusty old domed metal lunchbox is loose, and you can’t stop toying with it. “This is what you’ve been carrying your motherlode around in?” 

“What about your mother’s load?” Eddie says, scraping the lunchbox a couple of inches away from you on the bench. Still, you reach for it, and he smacks your hand away. “Respect the receptacle, please. It’s a thing of legend.”

“Seems like a dangerously obvious hiding place for a bunch of illegal substances,” you say, brow creased. Had Eddie put any thought into his operation thus far? Because this seems extremely haphazard. He’s always swinging that goddamn thing around school, and one look inside the false bottom could put him away for a long time, if the Reagan administration had anything to do with it. 

“Exactly! Making it the last place anyone would think to look!” Eddie beams, flicking the lid open. “Class A drugs? Why, no, officer, these are my party pretzels. From home.” A deeply tragic baggie of crushed pretzel pieces lands between the two of you. Your frown deepens a degree or two. Eddie shrugs, shaking his curls out a little and starts picking through the detritus in the lunch box. Other than a couple of dime bags, a box of Camels, a lighter and some loose Twizzlers, his load’s light.

“How exactly does one get into the business of selling hydroponics et cetera out of a lunchbox, Eddie?” 

“Why, you lookin’ to diversify your criminal skillset?” That sly poke. You roll your eyes, jiggling your mary jane’d foot and pick up a bag of Mary Jane herself.

“I’m just curious about the trajectory! The more I learn about you, the more it occurs to me that you’re possibly the uncoolest drug dealer in history. You know, stereotypically speaking.” 

“The answer I think you’re looking for is that I’m a big, big boy,” Eddie rasps, taking an exaggerated chomp out of one of the liquorice ropes, “and I contain multitudes. Shit happens. Sometimes it leads to you selling pot. Et cetera.”

“What kind of shit?”

He considers you for a second, but you’re bright-eyed and curious about him. He jumps back from you when you’re like this sometimes, like he just touched a hot stove. You’d give him shit for it, but you did the same thing. The Twizzler waves in your face. “If I didn’t have such a brain-damage inducing crush on you, I’d think you were a narc.”

 “Eddie.” Though your heart does jump like a needle on a scratched record when he says crush. Particularly when he says crush like that. But he could elaborate on that for you later. 

“Fine, fine, fine– I’m not gonna get into the finer points of it now, but… basically, some shit went down with my dad that meant I had to move in with Wayne and working at the plant isn’t actually the cash cow that you’d think it is, and neither is me picking up barback shifts at the Hideout so… I hit up my dad’s friend Rick who said he’d help me out if I ever needed it and here we are. Lunchbox and all. Half ounces for halfwits at horrible parties.” Eddie toughens into this tense line as he speaks, like he’s halfway embarrassed about having to do this. “Means to an end, y’know?” 

You nod, though you want to prod further so bad. “Do what they expect of you until you don’t have to anymore.”

Exactly, Eddie mouths with narrowed eyes, another bite into the Twizzler. “You know what tune I’m singin’.”

Better than the both of you realize, it seems.

“This whole,” you gesture around the circular clearing, the place everyone knows you come to meet Munson to score product, “place does kind of look like the kind of hotspot where one might catch Goody Proctor dancing with the Devil.” 

It’s your first time out here–you’d elegantly skirted the responsibility of ever having to pick up for your group of friends but it’s… delightfully creepy. Whispers cragging through the tree branches. Eddie’s presence knocking you off guard at every turn–well, not you. Not anymore. 

“Rumors are kind of starting to add up. Satanic worship, human sacrifice… girls panties going missing. That’s all I’m saying.” 

A maddened grin peeling over his features, Eddie scooches closer to where you sit, perched on top of the rotting picnic table. “Why do you think I lured you out here, Lace?” His fingertips race up your calf and you spill a giggle, squirming away. “The Dark Lord requires another infernal bride!” He leaps up, ticklish touch attacking your sides ‘til you’re shrieking, not working quite as hard as you could to beat him away. 

“Ed–Eddie, st-aaahap!”

“It’s all cool! It’s no big deal! Just take your clothes off and sign my yearbook! Then, hey presto, the big guy’ll give you whatever you want.”

Eddie’s hands slow to a still on your hips, your uncrossed legs caging his sides. His lids fall, mouth prepping a pout for yours, but you press your thumb into his lips. 

“Whatever I want?” you whisper, eyes narrowing. 

A smirk flickers across Eddie’s mouth, a puff of breath pressing his mouth into your thumb until the tip is wedged between the edge of his teeth. Your breathing stills for a second and you resist pushing it further into his mouth. 

“Shit,” he murmurs, moving your hand across his cheek so he can kiss you full on the mouth. His tongue is needy and searching, making you curve into him just a touch. You can feel the prickle of his stubble coming up. Eddie with a five o’clock shadow… “I’d give you whatever you want, Lace. John Hancock in the Book of the Beast or no.” 

The wettened peaks of his lips go straight for your jugular. You two have shared enough mouth-to-mouth episodes for him to know that feeling his tongue against your pulse is liable to make you do nutty things. 

“Tell me what you want, dahling one,” Eddie’s mouth crawls up your jaw in an approximation of Bela Lugosi, up to your ear, where he knows you’re ticklish too. You feel him smile at your breathy laugh. “Anything you desire, anything beneath the blazing sun and under the heaving mud, anything under the banner of… the Hawkins township, because I don’t have a lot of gas money right now…”

“I want you,” you struggle through a sigh–his stupid mouthy beautiful mouth, “to get rid of that goddamn lunchbox. At least, for illegal purposes. Keep it for pretzels.”

Eddie honks out a nasally groan far too close to your ear and you jerk back. “No! You’re supposed to be all, ‘I absolutely indubitably want you, Eddie,’ and then we’re supposed to, ee-ee,” he thrusts his clothed hips into yours animatedly, “on this very table top. Until you realize it’s covered in woodlice.”

“Well, I can’t fuck you if you’re in prison. I’m telling you, that old tin thing falls apart in the hallway and you’re being tried as a full adult!” Wait, did he say woodlice? 

“You worry too much. S’gonna make you warty. Plus,” he says, unlatching himself from you and tossing his effects back in the tin box, “this is a family heirloom. Al Munson made good on his last straight job at the plant for a grand total of six hours, and all he got was this lousy lunchbox.”

Speaking of Al… 

“Y’know, I was thinking… If it wasn’t for your dad…” Your hands knit in your lap as you pretend to look around for woodlice.  

“‘If it wasn’t for Al’ what?” Eddie’s tone is flat, “Grand theft auto would decrease tenfold from here to Bloomington? Less diner waitresses would have complexes about men who abuse the free refill system? Starcourt Mall wouldn’t have burned down?”

Your eyebrows knit. Okay, pause. “What has he got to do with Starcourt Mall?”

“I’m not a hundred percent, but I have a theory,” Eddie says, arms bound across his chest. “It involves horseshit bombs and the Russian mafia.”

“And you told me my Larry Kline theory was crazy!”

“Well, funny you mention because my idea actually runs kind of concurrent to that–” 

“No, let’s put a pin in that for a second,” you cut him off, “It’s… my dad. I think he might actually be somewhat rehabilitated. Knocked down a peg, maybe? He actually displayed a hint of diffidence, Eddie. I think I … kind of have Al to thank for that.”

Sure, there was an air of initial disconcert to you and your dad’s little game of gin rummy, but the more you ruminated on it, the more it felt… threatless. Your mom had even joined you for a grim dinner of mac and cheese, where the three of you had nearly fondly reminisced on the pasta alla vodka from a restaurant they always went to on New Years Eve in Indianapolis. Maybe that’s what it took; a stint in prison to crack his ego like the Liberty Bell, and now Ray Doevski had to bear the humility like everyone else. Maybe he’d make good on his promise, making up for lost time.

But the disbelief, and, in fact, concern that Eddie is eyeballing your way says something different. 

“Don’t thank Al for anything.”

“I’m just saying. Dad and I actually talked last night, for the first time in… ever, really, and it didn’t feel like he was sizing me up. It was.. He was… nice.”

“Lacy.” Eddie’s shoulder’s sag. He hops up on the table next to you, bringing you knee to knee. The tear in his jeans rubs against the webbed nylon of your tights. When he looks at you, it’s with rounded eyes that could very well have been checking you for brain damage. “I don’t mean to blow out your candle or anything, but coming from someone as well versed in the tales of a crooked father who never really changes as I… I don’t buy this Ray of sunshine bit.”

Your hackles start to raise. Hey. Just because Al Munson was a famed and patterned piece of shit didn’t necessarily mean–

Eddie clocks you immediately, your crunched brow and pursed mouth. His hands go up, requesting pause. “Look. This is your first time at the convict parent rodeo, so I know how it is. Whirlwind. They always roar in in some Cadillac full of promises, right, swearing to make everything they fucked up right by you. But it never sticks, Lace. They’re hardwired to not follow through, okay? At least not on anything that doesn’t serve their own vain little agenda. With Al, it’s always some big dick scheme, something that’s gonna set us, and by us I mean him, up for life. No matter how good it feels to have them back, it– it always feels better when they’re gone.”

His searching eyes dart to his hands, as if he’d said a touch too much. On the one hand, a couple of painful pop rocks explode in your chest. You always feel this way whenever he mentions Al– Eddie’s let you in on glimpses here and there, revealing that he hasn’t quite shucked off the essence of being a hurt kid. It presents you with the super challenging desire to soothe the memory, but you dance around it at a distance. The dad stuff, it’s still sticky for the both of you. But now that Ray is back, and Al is back, you kind of have to talk about it. It figures pretty keenly into… whatever the fuck you two think you’re doing.

Then, on the other hand, a quick flash of resentment burns in you. Yeah, your dad is hardwired–why can’t mine be different? 

“Better?” you ask. 

“Maybe–not better,” Eddie rectifies, his rings knocking against his palm. “But easier. It’s always easier when he’s gone, even if I want him to be there. At least I know what to expect when he doesn’t call or write or whatever, which is nothing.”

“So I should do the same? Expect nothing?” You can’t hide the bite in your voice, and you can’t meet his eyes when he looks at you. 

“Lacy,” he says, searching hard for you in there, “You know what kind of guy your dad is. All the pomp and circumstance in the world won’t change what you’ve already seen. What you’ve already been through. This nice guy shit is a tactic– you…”

A heavy-ringed hand pulls your face to his, forcing you to look him in his earnest, gleaming eyes. 

“You deserve more than that.” 

Confusion with a sadness chaser churns in you. The metallic chill of Eddie’s rings against your cheek. A cooling comfort. Not a harsh sting. Not an open palm. A cradle. 

“I know you don’t believe me, for whatever reason, but you do deserve more than that.”

I still want you to be wrong, a voice hisses in the back of your head. Fucking Medusa rising.

“Yeah,” you nod in his hands, surrendering because it’s the right thing to say. “Yeah, of course I do. I’ll be careful. It’s fine.”

“And speaking of careful,” Eddie’s timbre hits a more suggestive spot, his hand falling from your jaw to your shoulder, “Harrington’s having a party on Friday, s’why I need fresh supplies.”

“Oh, really?” you mumble, mood not immediately perking up.

“Yes, really,” Eddie mocks, grip slipping to your waist. “I was thinking… y’know. Harrington’s house is big. Lotta rooms. Lotta beds…”

“Lot of intimacy at big parties,” you paraphrase Gatsby. “But the last time I was at Harrington’s… Is that such a good idea? Risking a repeat of teenage gladiator?”

“You were hardly gladiating, you were performing The Crab Monologues. Now, Carol, she wa–”

A scowl starts growing on your face. “Not helping your case.”

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry,” Eddie grins that bitten, private grin he deploys when he’s just about to lay one on you. “Will you show if I promise to protect you from wild redheaded assailants?”

“I’ll consider it. But that better include that little neighbor girl of yours, too,” you warn, suddenly reminded of the viscous stink-eye that Billy Hargrove’s stepsister had been throwing your way the last couple of times that you passed her in the trailer park. “Orphan Annie has it out for me for some reason.”

“You’re so cute when you’re paranoid.” 

“You have a woodlouse in your bangs.”“Wuagh! Where! Kill it!”

author's notes: christ it is GOOD TO BE BACK!!! if this feels like a part one to something, that is because it very much is, my friends. this was on its way to becoming a 20k+ chapter, which would freak me out actually so i decided to have some boundaries for once and split it in two. get you warmed up for what's to come. it's drama. btw. anyway on with the show - ohhh, you guys i have been listening to so much early-mid 00s emo in order to write this story. i realized that that's my secret weapon, because it's just as melodramatic as these two fucking dumbshits are. points to anyone who knows what the title of the chapter is a reference to (bonus points if they can find it a second time in a past chapter of this story) - flannery o'connor is of course a standard doevski pick for an author, but also a nod to maya hawke playing her in the biopic, which looks exquisite btw - back at it with the extremely rudimentary dnd references! i thought fear and loathing in luskan was fun - eddie WOULD know a ton about ancient greek mythology, specifically the goings on at the olympics, but not because he has any real vested interest in it but moreso because when he researches for a campaign he goes absolutely hard, like me with my 26 tabs open googling 'nail polish shades popular 80s teen girl bonne bell' - kick rocks! montague moment's over! but real quick-- what's munson? it is not hand, nor foot nor arm nor face, nor any other part... belonging to a man :) - yet another hellfire & ice fancast moment, i must present my personal pick for o'donnell-- it's gotta be allison janney, baby. less in the 10 things i hate about you guidance counselor vein, rather in the stepmom from juno vein. - 'hey hildy, what's the scoop?' had to get a his girl friday reference in somewhere, didn't i - answered prayers by truman capote is not only the cuntiest book ever written (capote essentially sold the secrets of his wealthy socialite friends in order to write it) but is also the latest ryan murphy adaptation - we stan jordan baker from the great gatsby in this house alright! that's all for this one! hope you enjoyed it, i know it's heavy on set up but next chapter will see us right back at casa de harrington for another blowout party, so... brace yourselves. please comment and reblog to support the work, thank you hellcats i love you forever

[stratossphere]

the bonfire. | j.k

the tension between you and knoxville builds. a lot. set in mid-2003.

word count: 5.6k

warnings: a lot of drinking and smoking (reader is described as a stoner), mentions of age gap, smut, oral (fem. receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, knoxville’s dirty mouth in general

"I'm telling you, I don't want to fuck him." You said, an amused expression on your face as you passed the spliff you were smoking over to Bam. You had been on this topic for almost an hour now on and off, and for some reason you just couldn't seem convincing.

"Dude, we all know you do. Just get it over with and tell us if it was good or not." He scoffed, taking a second to suck in a hit before he continued. "The dude has a huge hard-on for you anyway, so might as well shoot your shot."

"I know he has a huge hard-on for me. I'm just...too lazy to deal with that." You groaned as you sunk down in your camp chair. You’d all been sitting at a bonfire outside of someone's friend's house for over two hours now, and you were getting kind of bored. Bam and Ryan had flown in from Pennsylvania the day before, so you were trying to get as much time as possible in with them before they had to leave again, but sometimes they made it hard.

"You're just scared you can't pull him." Bam scoffed, handing the joint back and then dramatically turning in his chair to glance over to where Johnny was. "Although, he's pretty old compared to us."

"I could absolutely pull him. All I'd have to do is bend over in front of him and he'd be barking like a dog." You scoffed, elbowing him not-so-gently. "And who cares if he's older? He acts like he's fucking five."

"So you do want to fuck him." Bam called you out like it wasn't already obvious. "Dude, I'm serious. Go pull your little bend over routine and get out of here. It's physically hurting me to watch you guys anymore."

"Watch us? We barely even talk!" You protested, downing the last of your can of beer before turning back to Bam. "He's not that hard to pull. Remember when that girl kissed his neck and he was blushing like a girl and had to put a pillow in his lap? Easy money."

"Yo! Dunn! C'mere!" Great. Now Bam was bringing another person into this. And, of course, Ryan looked more than happy to drop down in the camp chair across from you. Bam smacked your arm. "We're debating whether or not Y/n’s got enough game to fuck Knoxville."

"Dude, totally. He's like, rock hard for you already." Ryan scoffed, cracking open another beer as he spoke. "You got the guts, though?"

"You know what? You two are assholes." You scoffed, crushing your beer can and tossing it at Ryan's feet. "Watch this shit."

You turned in your chair, looking around and trying to find Johnny again. He'd disappeared from his position next to the ping pong table that Ehren and Steve-O were destroying, and it took you a second to locate him crouched down in front of one of the beer coolers. Perfect.

"Knoxville!" You shouted loudly enough to draw his attention, watching his head crane back in your direction with his sunglasses still sat perfectly on top of his head. It had gotten too dark for him to be able to see properly with them on, so he'd ditched them about half an hour ago. "Can you grab me one?"

"What kind you want?" He shouted back, holding up both Budweiser and PBR. Steve-O had definitely been in charge of beer supply, because all there seemed to be was pisswater for choices. You motioned to his left hand that held the Budweiser, and watched him chuck the other can back into the cooler before kicking it back shut.

"If you two say anything, I'm gonna tell Tremaine to have you shot with paintballs for weeks." You warned quickly as Johnny started his way over, jabbing a finger at each of them individually. You were really praying they didn't mess up your game, because Johnny was going to make it into a huge thing if they did.

"Who? We're not even here." Ryan said dramatically, pretending to zip his lips and throw the key in the fire seconds before Johnny was behind your chair holding the beer over your shoulder.

"You three sharing secrets and braiding each other's hair over here?" He cajoled as he pressed the cold can into your neck, making you wince as he came around the side of your chair and plopped into the empty one that was to your right. "I feel left out."

"Thanks, J." The little nickname lingered on your lips as you took the can from his offering hand, your fingers brushing his as you did so. You watched his eyes stick to yours momentarily, and you could tell that what you were doing was so easily working. Like picking up sticks.

"Fuck off, Knoxville. You don't have enough hair to braid." Bam scoffed, extending his foot across you to kick his friend in the leg. You pushed him away, shooting him a look to kill as you leaned back in your chair slightly.

"We're smoking, if you want some." You offered, motioning to the new joint that Ryan was rolling as we spoke. Johnny shook his head, cracking his beer tab and letting out a gentle sigh.

"On a break right now. I'm sticking to...other things." He said vaguely, putting his feet up on the same empty chair that you currently had yours on. Oh yeah. Easy money.

"Ooh. Other things. My favorite." Bam snorted, as if this conversation was hilarious to him. You shot him another dirty look, and he seemed to take the hint, standing up and wiping his hands off on the legs of his black jeans. "Well, I'm gonna go do something more fucking interesting. Dunn, care to join?"

"Sure, man. I've been hanging out with Y/n way too fucking long, anyway." Ryan scoffed, getting up with the joint still in his hand. You glared at him and held your hand out.

"Leave the weed, fuckhead." You ordered, watching him sigh before dropping the perfectly-rolled joint in the palm of your hand. You then watched them walk away to where they could still watch both of you before turning your attention back to Johnny. "Well? What does 'other things' entail?"

"Nothing heavier than cigs and beer. The way god intended." He sighed, reaching down to grab your lighter off the ground and then handing it over to you.

"What're you taking a break for?" He was kind of making you feel guilty for smoking in front of him, but he was the one that had chosen to drop down right next to the world's biggest stoner.

"Recovery. I feel like I haven't slept for days." He sighed, letting out a slight chuckle as he reached into his back pocket to retrieve a pack of cigarettes. "So. After this, you think you'll be willing to do more stunts?" Huh. Maybe not easy money.

"You want me to do stunts? For what?" You were genuinely surprised. Sure, you'd let Steve-O convince you to do the whole skateboard-into-the-water thing, but that had only been because Bam got food poisoning and needed a stand in.

"Just in case we make another movie! Filming never stops, Y/n/n." He explained, his arm moving to rest on your armrest as he spoke. You frowned at the nickname, moving your arm to rest next to his as you looked out at the fire pit.

"Probably. I liked the money." You said thoughtfully, lighting up the joint and making a point to blow the smoke to your left instead of your right so that it wasn't directly in his face. "I thought you said you were banning women from stunts."

"I did. You're different." He said simply, and you watched him attempt and fail to hide the fact that he was looking directly at your tits in your low-cut tank top. You raised an eyebrow at him in question at calling you 'different'. He quickly spluttered at the look on your face. "Because you're—you're badass. You're different."

"I'm taking that as a compliment." While you talked, you had been slowly inching your feet closer to his, and your shoes were now touching. If he noticed, he didn't say anything about it. "So? What would the next stunt be?"

"Well, we were playing with the idea of...naked barrel racing...across a tarp of lube." It was clear by his face that he was proud of his idea, but you could also tell that he was embarrassed to have to tell you what it was. It actually made you laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of that plan.

"You just want to see me naked." You accused, narrowing your eyes at him. He chuckled, looking unbothered by your accusation before taking another drag from his cigarette.

"What makes you think that? All the guys would be naked, same as you." He said, raising one eyebrow quizzically. You shrugged, a coy smile dragging onto your face.

"Hey. I don't know what you're into. Could be both." You said, hitting your joint as you studied his face. For someone who currently had your foot brushing purposely against his leg, he looked pretty at ease.

"Oh, not me. I'm a tits man, myself." He chuckled, his eyes moving back down to where you were now definitely moving your foot up his leg before looking back to you. "I'm just playing, doll. I'm planning on shooting them with paintball guns once they get out there, so you can't do the stunt."

With those words, a leg dropped down on yours, and you looked down towards your feet to see that he'd trapped the leg moving against his with his own.

"But, I'm sure I can get what I want in a different setting." He concluded, eyes flitting back up to yours. His fingers had now inched over your hand where his arm was next to yours on the arm rest, and you could feel the bandaid that was around his ring finger from picking up a broken bottle on set a couple of days prior.

"Oh yeah? And what exactly is that?" You were so thankful that it took a lot of weed to get you high, because you were afraid that you didn't sound as put-together as you thought you did. He seemed completely sober, and you could help but feel nervous about his hand on yours.

"Come on. I thought that was obvious." He drawled with a wide grin, leaning in close to your ear so that his breath tickled your skin. "I wanna see you bent over and spread in every pretty position I can think of."

"Whew. You pick up fast. I was afraid I was gonna have to get drunk and show you my tits." You laughed, turning slightly in your seat and setting your joint on top of your beer can so that your hands were free.

"Offer's still on the table." He teased, winking at you as he slowly brought your hand up before pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"Well, how's this?" You then leaned in to kiss him, and were satisfied to see that he met you halfway there, your hand immediately pulling out of his to cup his cheek instead. Kissing Johnny Knoxville. Cross that off the old bucket list.

When you broke away, you were out of breath, and you could feel the way your heartbeat was going a million miles a minute as he leaned away to take another drag of his cigarette without a care in the world.

"You know, I hate it when you call me Knoxville. Sounds better when you're saying my real name." He said, brown eyes on yours as he spoke. The party was loud, and everyone was drunk and shouting at each other, but he spoke so calmly and quietly you almost didn't hear him.

"PJ Clapp. That's so much sexier." You said with a grin, waiting until he wasn't 100% paying attention to lean over your chair and mouth you owe me money to Bam and Ryan, who had just watched that entire exchange. He chuckled.

"Yeah, that's why I don't use it." He sighed, looking up at you once again after he had ashed his cigarette onto the grass between his feet. "You know, I'm a little old for you. I have gray hairs."

"They should call you Silver Foxville." You said dryly, rolling your eyes as you glanced to the limited space between your lips. You’d kissed him once, and now you really wanted it again. And again. "Your dick still works, doesn't it?"

"Thank you for proving that I'm not just a pretty face." He poked fun at your attention to that one certain thing, and he just proved his point with his wide grin. You shrugged, pushing your boldness to the highest level you could stand.

"Pretty face means nothing if you don't have a pretty dick." You said coyly, leaning away from him again to take another hit off of your joint and blow it away from him. You felt a surge of satisfaction as you saw the shaken look on his face. Considering the people he was friends with, you’d assumed he'd heard worse.

"Shit. You're making me fuckin' harder than Portland cement." He muttered, tilting your chin fully towards himself just as you were exhaling another cloud of smoke and pressing his lips to yours as you basically transferred your smoke right into his lungs. "Wanna feel?"

When you gave your hum of approval, you felt his hand on your wrist, and then he was pressing your palm into the bulge of his Dickies, a low groan escaping his lips as your fingers cupped his hard cock through his pants. You were thanking god that your chairs were facing away from everyone else in the group, because you were not a fan of the idea of pictures of what you and Johnny were doing at the moment.

"Fuck. Let's go somewhere else." You mumbled against his mouth, slowly pulling your hand away from him as your eyes darted towards the house that barely anyone else was in. You knew he would've been perfectly fine with you feeling him up to completion right there in the yard, but you were really trying to preserve your dignity, high or not.

"Come on. I know the house." He breathed, breaking away from you and dropping his cigarette under the toe of his close-to-destroyed converse before his eyes zeroed in on the spliff still between your fingers. There wasn't much left, but still enough to where you felt guilty about abandoning it. "And let me see that."

You handed it over hesitantly, half worried that he was going to give the joint the same treatment as his cigarette, but then let out a sigh of relief when he took a hit that had his eyes watering and smoke pouring out of his nose as he coughed. Wow. He really hadn’t been lying about taking a break.

Once he was satisfied with his hit, he handed it back over to you before taking your hand and beginning the walk through the sliding back door and into the house. You prayed for your tomorrow self's sake that no one was paying attention to you both, hoping that somehow the only two people going inside instead of coming out were going magically unnoticed.

"I should really be taking you back to my house. I feel bad." Johnny said as he closed the door behind you, his hand tightening in yours as he dodged expertly around the table and chairs that were moved messily all around the room. You scoffed.

"I don't give a fuck. We could be in a club bathroom for all I care." You said honestly, taking one last hit of your joint before setting the butt down on the kitchen counter as you passed by. His strides were much longer than yours, and you were hurrying to keep pace with him.

"Just how I like it." Just as he spoke, he gently nudged you into an open door, revealing a small bedroom which was quickly determined to be Star Wars themed. You frowned at him, to which he waved it off. "Scott's an eccentric decorator. He's got all themed bedrooms."

"Glad you picked the good one." You muttered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his sunglasses from the top of his head and discarding them on the opposite edge of the bed. His fingers immediately danced over the bottom hem of your decently-short shorts (which you’d actually repeatedly caught him staring at throughout the day of both shooting and partying), pulling them up further over your ass before his hands were kneading your exposed skin.

"Take 'em off." He spoke into your mouth, his hands moving back upwards until his fingers laced their way into your hair so that he could hold you tighter against his kiss. You did as he requested easier than you were willing to admit, yanking them down your hips to reveal your black and white cotton thong. Kind of cheesy, but you didn't miss the way his eyes lit up when he noticed it.

There was a moment where he just studied you, and just as you was going to move in and try to shield yourself from his sharp gaze, his hand was on your lower back and he was gingerly knocking you back onto the bed. He was on you seconds after your head hit the galaxy-print pillows, his hands roughly rucking your legs up over his hips as his lips pressed back onto yours.

You knew you were fucked. You could tell by both the way your whole body shook from just his hungry kisses and the fact that you were already missing his presence when he was still on top of you. But you didn't even care enough to think about it. All you could think about was the fact that he was pulling your tank top over your head, and then his hands were on your tits. He broke your kiss to look down at you, one hand using his thumb to brush over your sensitive nipple as the other held your jaw so that you couldn't look away from him.

"Listen to me, sweetheart." He said breathlessly, biting his bottom lip as he looked down at you in a way that you had never once seen from him in the past four years of knowing him. It was making every part of you that craved him throb even more. "I'm gonna eat your pussy, and you're gonna be a good girl and let me, understand?"

That almost killed you right then and there. You had been pretty sure you were going to be screwed before, but now you were positive. Your legs were tightening around his hips with every word, and you could barely get yourself under control enough to give him a nod. He smiled in satisfaction, then gave you one last kiss before he was pulling out of your grasp, lips leaving a trail of soft kisses down your arm as he slid himself down further towards the edge of the bed.

"So fuckin' hot. Smell so fuckin' delicious." He said as he moved, his fingers nimbly dragging the waistband of your underwear right down your legs as he went along. It was ridiculously smooth, and it made you even wetter for him as you waited less-than-patiently for him to get his mouth on you.

"Please, PJ." You whimpered, legs jello in his hold as he trailed his tongue up your inner thigh. You weren’t someone who usually allowed yourself to be teased, but something about the way he was touching you had you so transfixed that you couldn't even be bothered to complain. He chuckled.

"Oh, I like it when you whine for me. Say my name one more time and I'll let you have what you want." He crooned, sinking his teeth gently into your sensitive skin. You arched your hips up in the direction of his mouth, eager to get some form of release in any way you could manage.

"PJ. Need you so bad." You whined again, lip drawn harshly between your teeth as you watched him with desperate eyes. There was a glint in his gaze that made your heart pound, and you practically saw stars when his lips finally moved to where you needed him, his tongue laving around your clit and down over your entrance in one smooth motion. "Holy shit."

"Shh. Be a good girl for me and keep your mouth shut." He muttered, only taking that split second to remove his mouth before it was back at full force, his lips sucking adamantly at your clit as his tongue weaved intricate symbols that had you rolling your hips against his mouth. Despite his telling you to shut up, you couldn't stifle the moans that welled their way into your throat, your voice high-pitched and strung-out on pleasure.

He brushed his tongue across your clit over and over again, occasionally licking down to push his tongue into your entrance, his fingers replacing his tongue on your clit each time he did so. It felt so good that you felt like you couldn’t see what was in front of you, your senses blinded and heavy with pleasure as he ate you out like no man had ever done before.

"You like everyone hearing how good I'm making you feel? 'S that why you can't control yourself?" He cooed as he removed his lips from my clit, a single finger pushing into you as a replacement as he gazed up at you with sly lust. You let out a disappointed gasp at the change in sensation, your clit aching in his absence. When he saw your face, a second finger followed his first, leaving his index and middle fingers curled inside you fully. "Who knew Y/n Y/l/n was such a pretty little slut."

"Please. Need more." Your voice was airy and distraught, fingers laced in the comforter on either side of you as you urged him to finish what he had originally started. You felt so close, yet so far.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head. You’re gonna get what you want." He promised, curling his fingers forward and pushing them upwards in a slow but precise movement that had your hips involuntarily jerking forward and the air rushing from your lungs. Jesus, he really was good.

He started to push his fingers against that sweet little spot inside of you slowly, his cheek pressed against your inner thigh as he watched his digits disappear into you over and over again. And then, just as you were beginning to think that it wasn't going to be enough, his dipped his mouth back to your pussy, his tongue pressing back against your clit as his fingers worked in and out of you.

Your eyes slammed shut as your head pushed back against the pillow, your chest heaving as you took in the obscene slurping sounds he was making with his tongue mixed with the wet sounds caused by his fingers. He shouldered your legs even further apart, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he stared up at you the entire time.

Your climax was approaching almost embarrassingly fast. Your late night fantasies of Johnny Knoxville's head between your legs was even hotter than you had imagined many times before, and the sight of him grinding his hips down into the bed with every swirl of his tongue was making your entire body thrum with heat.

"I can feel you squeezin' my fingers, dollface. Let me feel you cum on my tongue." Johnny encouraged as he continued to push his fingers into you, his free hand pushing on your hip to keep you from pushing up into his mouth as aggressively as you wanted to. Your moans and gasps were now way beyond your control, and your voice only got louder as your back arched up, your climax hitting you hard enough to make you see stars as your eyes fell back open.

You had half a mind to clap your hand over your mouth as you panted and whined through your orgasm, your free hand taking a handful of his dark brown hair and pulling as you came. He didn't stop his tongue and fingers until your voice gave out and you were forcibly gasping for air, your grip in his hair going lax as you came back down to earth.

"Holy fuck." You breathed, wincing when he pulled his fingers out of you and accepting him with open arms as he moved back up to look at you with gleeful eyes and a spit-soaked chin. You reached out and used the collar of his shirt to pull up and wipe his mouth off, only to have him immediately suck his equally-wet fingers into his mouth once you had dropped the fabric back down to his throat.

"Damn. Can't get you to shut your mouth no matter if you're gettin' finger-fucked or not." He said cockily as he pulled his fingers from his mouth and wiped them off on his shirt. When you gave him a dirty look, he leaned his head to the side to suck gently at your neck, the rumble of his baritone laugh tickling your skin. "Although, haven't fucked you yet. We'll see."

"I can't cum again so fast." You said in surprise as he began to undo the buckle of his KNOXVILLE belt, a hand moving to his chest as you looked up at him with wide eyes. Your legs were still shaking, and if you had been loud before, it was only going to get worse if he fucked you while you were so sensitive. He kissed you gently, his eyes locked on yours.

"You can take it. Look, you've already got your legs spread nice and wide for me." He reassured, his hand gripping your thigh as he ripped his belt from his belt loops. You weren’t quite reassured, but you fumbled to get the zipper of his pants down regardless, his lips on yours encouraging you to let him do whatever the hell he wanted with you.

Once he had completely gotten his pants undone with your help, he stood up to quickly shuffle them off along with his boxers, leaving him bare from the waist down in front of you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking against the hem of his t-shirt. You barely gave him any time to stand there, pulling him back in with your fingers around his wrist before he was kneeling in front of your spread legs with his mouth half-open.

"You got a condom somewhere?" He asked suddenly, eyes unable to pull away from between your legs as he spoke to you. You mentally slapped myself, because of course you didn't have one, and since he was asking, he obviously didn't either. Unsafe sex was called unsafe sex for a reason.

However, you were too impatient to think rationally.

"No. You can just pull out." You said impatiently, watching as he gently pulled your legs back over his thighs. His gaze was so searing and yet his hands were more than careful with you, his touch so light it almost felt as if you were moving on your own.

"I like the way you think." He teased, pumping himself a few times as his eyes finally dragged their way back up to yours. "Be as loud as you want, gorgeous. I don't give a fuck."

You nodded as if you even had a choice, holding your breath as you felt the tip of his cock swipe through your pussy before he was slowly pushing himself into you. If there were any lingering thoughts in your head of anyone else you had ever even considered having sex with in the past, each and every one was erased with the drag of his cock inside of you. You both let out heated gasps, his hand tightening on your leg just above your knee and your head falling back once again. You were still a little sensitive from your last orgasm, and every touch felt like electricity as he slowly pushed his way completely inside of you.

"Fuck, you feel so good." He groaned, his hips stilling momentarily as you tensed at his length. As his tip brushed against your cervix with just his entering thrust, you knew you were in for it. You had seen him naked more times than you had previously been a fan of whilst working for Jackass, and at the time you had assumed he was a shower, but holy fuck was he a grower. It made another shudder of pleasure race up your stomach. "So fucking tight."

He didn't seem to be able to stand much time waiting, and before you knew it, he was slowly rolling his hips into you, his cock hitting every still-sensitive nerve as he fucked into you. You watched in ecstasy as he pulled the hem of his shirt up his muscled torso, biting it between his teeth so that he had both hands free to pull you forward on his cock.

"Oh. Right there. Right there." You gasped, moaning languidly as he picked up the pace of his hips and fucked right against the spot that he'd had his fingers against not three minutes before. He groaned in agreement, his head falling back and pulling his shirt further up his chest as he put all his movement into his hips.

You were really hoping that rubbing against the mattress while he'd been eating you out had gotten him at least a little close to cumming, because your second orgasm was quickly edging its way through your nerves as he fucked you hard enough to make the bed creak painfully loud. If anyone walked in through the unlocked door by that point, it was going to be their own fault.

"You look so good, takin' my cock like such a pretty little slut." Johnny purred, holding your legs open hard enough to make your muscles ache as he slammed into you over and over again. The pleasure was so good and so intense that your eyes were watering, and you could feel tears starting to track down the side of my face as you gripped helplessly at the sheets in a failed attempt to ground yourself with something. "You'd look so good with my cum dripping out of you."

You tried to mouth not funny, but all you could do was moan, his filthy words making you teeter dangerously on the edge of cumming before you were ready. You weren’t on birth control, but you weren’t exactly a big fan of making good decisions anyway, so you decided that if you weren’t able to get the words out, that you really didn't need to say them.

"Fuck, you want me to fill you up?" He questioned, his voice muffled by his t-shirt still between his teeth and his words followed by a low groan. "Fill you up like the good little slut that you are?"

You whined in agreement, nodding your head as best you could as you arched your back up further with every slam of his cock against your cervix. It was a pleasured pain, one that you knew you’d be feeling for the next couple of days.

"I'm gonna cum, princess." He whined, seconds before his hips stuttered and you felt him cum inside of you, warmth painting your insides as you let out a porno-style moan and came right there on the spot with him. That had to be a good sign for the both of you, right? "So goddamn good."

Your second orgasm was even more blinding, and your vision went white as your back arched up painfully, your fingers helplessly pulling at the bed as you whimpered and gasped with every wave of pleasure that coursed through your body. His hands stayed on your hips the entire time until you were verbally begging him to stop thrusting his cock into you, the wet sound of him pushing his cum back inside reaching your ears as he slowly moved to a stop.

"You sounded so good, baby. Did so good." He babbled, immediately falling forward to press his lips sloppily to your throat as his hips moved lazily as he thrusted his last bit of energy out. Your head was spinning and your legs and pussy were already aching in the sweetest way possible as you wrapped your arm around his neck.

"God, you're fucking good at that." You breathed, letting out a strangled gasp when he finally pulled out of you. Whoever used the Star Wars comforter next was going to notice a suspicious looking stain right in the middle of it next time they got into bed.

"I can't believe it took us this long." He said, his breath coming out in pants as he steadied himself with one hand on the mattress next to your head. You realized with the increased quiet inside the room that you could hear multiple people talking and shouting at each other from outside of the door, and you mentally cringed because you knew that were was no way that you hadn't been overheard.

"Everyone's gonna know." You mumbled, carding your fingers through his hair as you finally felt your breathing beginning to calm again. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, and it still hadn't slowed down either. It made you feel a little bit better about yourself. He pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then your lips.

"Good. Then everyone will know that I'm the one who's giving it to you good, and I won't have any competition."

Oh yeah. You were done for.

[superblysubpar]

*originally posted over on my old blog. If you happened to read/interact with this before, I'd greatly appreciate it if you left some love once again. I did re-edit/re-write some things.*

Midnight City:

part one | part two: "Frozen"

modern!steve harrington x fem! reader

Summary: Steve Harrington looks good tonight. You leave your meddling friends behind at the bar and Steve and you get a little lost in each other. | masterlist | steve's music | NSFW 18+

WC Range: 3k-6k

Warnings: modern Steve (smartphone use), drinking amongst group/reader (all of legal age), mentions of Ronance potential, fem reader, use of Y/N and petnames, a lot of swearing, making out in uber/public places, oral and fingering (reader receiving, steve performing), Steve’s a little possessive

Steve knew what he was doing, and you weren't going to fall for it. 

The hat, the blazer, the new amount of scruff on his jawline...he looked good.

The entire wait in line to get into the bar your eyes roamed over him as he talked with Robin and Eddie.

You knew you were staring. You knew you shouldn’t be staring.

As you walked in you saw him fixing the collar of the jacket in the grungy mirror by the door. He caught your eye in the reflection, licking his lips before smirking and asking, “See something you like?”

Cocky son of a bitch.

You rolled your eyes and patted his shoulder as you walked by, “You look nice tonight, Steve.”

You exhaled and bit your lip. You risked a glance back and regretted it immediately as you made eye contact with his stupid smirk.

Steve was your friend. Just a friend. You could appreciate how good your friend looked tonight. It wasn’t illegal to find him attractive. It wasn’t against any rules to think about his lips a little more than you had in the past. 

Your group found a table by the small stage and Eddie drummed on the table looking around, “We probably shouldn’t leave this spot, you guys wanna go get your drinks first?”

Robin craned her neck searching, no doubt if Nancy was here yet. You pushed her shoulder down and laughed, “Down girl. Don’t be so eager - remember, slow game. Just text her where we are,” you looked at the boys, “Go ahead, we’ll wait.”

Steve and Eddie nodded and instead of going around you, Steve squeezed between you and a stranger, pressing his hand to your lower back and mumbled a quiet, “Sorry.”

You willed your face to stay neutral as you mumbled something about it being okay as your body filled with heat. Robin’s mouth dropped as she looked at your face and you squinted at the crowd, biting your cheek.

She smacked your shoulder and you recoiled, “Ow. What the hell is your problem!”

She smacked your shoulder with the back of her hand a few times again, and laughed while shouting, “Holy shit you have the hots for Steve!”

“Robin!” you hissed at her and ducked down.

“Who has the hots for Steve?” Nancy’s voice ringing out over the din of the crowd behind your shoulder.

Robin grabbed her hand and pulled her to the table, “Y/N!”

Oh god, could the two of them be any louder?

Nancy’s eyes lit up in excitement and she opened her mouth but it snapped shut, her eyes twinkling as the boys came back to the table, Steve setting your normal drink of choice in front of you.

Robin cleared her throat, “No drinks for Nance or I, hot stuff?”

Steve shot her a look but responded cooly, “I only have two hands and so much cash Robin. Y/N knows how to pace herself. You on the other hand drink like you wanna swim in it.”

Robin made a face at him, pulling out her phone and began typing as Nancy tapped the table, “No worries, gives Robs and I a chance to talk some more. Come on,” she tugged Robin away from the table who put her phone away as your phone buzzed three times. 

You pulled it out and resisted rolling your eyes as you read the messages.

Robin: holy

Robin: shit

Robin: steve likes you

You started typing and saw Nancy’s name appear in the group chat, three little dots blinking and you waited.

Nancy: he does he totally does

You: guys stop it

You: we’re just friends

Nancy: don’t look now but he’s staring at you

Robin: aww he loves you

You glanced up to see Steve quickly look down and you bit your lip around a smile.

Robin: I SAW THAT

You set your phone on the table, screen down and gestured to your drink, “Thanks Harrington.”

He smiled and adjusted his hat nervously before grabbing his own drink. “Of course,” he held it up and you clinked your glasses together before you both took pretty big gulps.

Your phone buzzed and you took another sip.

“Where’d Eddie-”

“You gonna get-”

You both stopped talking and then spoke in unison, “Sorry, you-”

You clamped your mouth shut and your phone buzzed again and you sighed.

He pointed to it, “Your phone keeps buzzing.”

You nodded and took another drink, “Sure does, where did Eddie go?”

He nodded towards the bar, “Set his sights on a new prospect.”

You grinned and craned your neck to find the dorky metalhead leaning over the bar, chatting up a pretty honey blonde haired waitress.

You jumped at Steve’s voice next to your ear and his hot breath hitting your neck as he whispered, “Ten bucks he gets a fake number again.”

You turned and were shocked that your face was so close to his, your cherry breath mixing with his whiskey, and you narrowed your eyes, focusing on your competitive banter rather than your stomach flipping, “You’re a terrible wingman for your best friend. But, I’ll take that bet. I have faith in Munson. She seems interested.”

Your phone buzzed five times and as you glanced at it Steve took a step back and you picked it up as the girls returned to the table.

Steve fiddled with his drink and nodded towards your phone, “Who ya texting so much?”

Robin had a smug smile on her face, “Yeah, Y/N, you have friends other than us?”

You made a face at her and blinked at the screen.

Robin: Fuck that was cute. You guys are cute together. Cheers your cups together again. I want a picture. 

Nancy: If you get married I call maid of honor. Robin’s Steve's best woman. No arguing. It’s happening.

Oh my god, a match made in heaven those two. 

You tried to focus on responding normally while reading their messages, “Uh..um..Dylan.”

“Dylan?” Steve asked and you looked up to see his frown while he sipped his drink. Glancing back down to see why your phone had buzzed five times before they were back to the table. 

Robin: OH

Robin: MY

Robin: FUCKING

Robin: GOD

Robin: KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS KISS

You closed your eyes and clicked your phone locked and grabbed your drink and downed it, “Uh, yeah, Dylan.”

Robin smirked, pulling out her phone, “Dylan is your boyfriend?”

Steve’s knuckles hit the table a few times, his mouth twisting into not quite a scowl, but he didn’t look happy.

Your phone buzzed as you responded, “He’s not my boyfriend. We just hung out a few times.”

Robin: Watch this.

Robin waited until you looked at her and she smirked, nudging Steve, “Riiight. Hung out a few times. She means they had sex.”

“Robin,” you hissed for the second time that night.

Steve finished his drink, “Yeah, Robin. I got it.”

He tapped his empty glass and walked away and you turned on Robin, “What is your problem!”

She jumped up and down giggling, “Oh my god, he looked like you kicked him in the stomach. He’s so into you.”

Nancy smirked and slid your empty glass towards you, “She’s not wrong. Her methods were a bit blunt, but now you know. Even you have to admit he looked pretty heartbroken.”

Steve was heartbroken over you talking to another guy? You didn’t want to admit to either of these two that the thought made you want to squeal a little, but the thought of Steve Harrington being a little jealous when it came to you made your stomach flip. Could one of your best friends be more than that? As you thought you saw the two of them smiling wider at you, as if they were reading your thoughts and Robin started clapping her hands together. 

You pushed Robin’s shoulders down to get her to stop bouncing, “Okay, okay, okay. If he makes a move, I won’t say no. Okay? But I’m not gonna be the one to do it.”

Robin nodded and you pointed in her face, “No. Meddling. I want him to do it himself, Robin. I mean it.”

She zipped her lips and threw the key and Eddie timed it perfectly, pretending to catch it and unlock her lips as he slid in next to her raising his eyebrows, “Ooo secrets. Tell me.”

“Y/N and Steve love each other,” she responded immediately.

“Robin!” you looked at her in disbelief.

She shrugged, “What?”

You mimed her literally seconds ago locking of the lips and held your hands out, asking what she had to say for herself. She shrugged again, “I said I wouldn’t meddle or tell Steve. Gonna have to be more specific next time sweet cheeks.”

She turned you towards the bar and gave your butt two pats and Nancy made a sound from the back of her throat and you held your hands up, grinning as you backed away.

You sighed as you stepped further away from the table though, glancing across the room to see Steve’s tall frame over the crowd you pushed through. You watched Steve rub the back of his neck, tipping his glass back for a drop of whiskey. You meant what you said, you’d risk your friendship with Steve if he made the first move.

You sighed as he rubbed his new scruff and figured a little flirting wouldn’t hurt, a little nudge in the direction you hoped he wanted to go too. You already had a witty, fairly flirty banter on normal nights, it was up to him to push it further. But you could help get the wheels turning in his brain. 

So, you bumped his hip when you finally reached him, “Hey, let me get your next one.”

He started to shake his head in protest and you stepped in front of him, placing yourself between the bar and him as you waved for the bartender.

Your phone buzzed twice.

Eddie: Woah. Easy there, killer. Gonna give him an accidental boner brush.  

Robin: Delicious.

You smirked and clicked it locked. When you got your drinks and turned to him he was glancing at his phone, his eyebrows furrowed.

You smiled but internally started to panic that Robin had not kept her word, or worse Eddie was now involved and texting him. You hadn’t made him promise not to do anything. Those two could find a crack in any contract, slipping between the lines of questionable and reasonable decisions alone. Together, though, they were a terrifying tornado of well intended though slightly messy chaos. 

You handed him the drink and you both were pushed over to a large post, leaning against it and you took a sip. Needing to find out what those two were up to, knowing you sounded incredibly nosy, you still asked, “Who ya texting?”

He glanced up, “Uh…I don’t know.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You don’t know?”

He looked confused at your tone and glanced back down at his phone. You pulled out your phone and started typing.

You: I’m going to kill you

Eddie: what

Robin: why

Nancy: I know a good lawyer.

Steve kept talking, “Yeah, a random number texted me asking if I still wanted to get drinks. Do you recognize who it is? Did Robin give my number to someone? I have, like, five contacts and four of them are here with me.”

Hey Steve! You still down for drinks tomorrow night?

You tried not to let the emotions coursing through you show on your face, “Oh. No idea, sorry.”

You pulled out your phone and quickly typed nevermind before smiling, gesturing to the table as the lights dimmed and the crowd around you cheered.

You pressed through the people and Steve’s hand on your back was making you sweat. He had girls texting him to get drinks? 

As the band started playing you sipped your drink and stole glances at Steve’s jaw next to you. That green monster churning inside of you. Damn Robin for even saying anything about you and Steve. Damn Steve for the way he looked tonight. And damn whoever that number was.

How did this happen? How did you go from being friends, to thinking he looked good tonight, to being jealous, to having to stop yourself from reaching over and biting his neck.

He pulled out his phone and something came over you, making you push closer to him, bumping your wrist in front of his crotch. 

Think about getting drinks with some other girl while you think about, as Eddie so eloquently put it, my “accidental” boner brush Harrington. 

You felt him stiffen, his thumb pausing over his screen.

You took a sip and let your hand fall back down to your side and felt your own phone buzz.

Eddie: Nice

Robin: What happened to him making the first move?

You glanced over your shoulder to see the two of them smirking at you. Robin glanced down at something and smiled as you felt fingers brush your own.

Your breath caught in your chest and you closed your eyes as Steve’s fingers brushed and moved against yours. The backs of his knuckles barely brushing against your skin, tapping almost in time with the music. 

You focused back on the stage, feeling warm as Steve moved a little closer, his arm against yours now, goosebumps erupted on your skin despite sweating your ass off.

Was this really happening?

You felt your phone buzz and you ignored it, leaning in to Steve a little more. The song being performed pounding in your ears in time with your heartbeat, the haze of a smoke filled bar making everything feel a little heavier, a little hotter. Your arms pressed together, electric static coursing between you and he nudged his shoulder against yours. 

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting as lights surged on the stage, it was like a freaking scene from a movie. 

It really was like a scene from one of your favorite romantic comedies, lights casting Steve in a golden light, eyes fixed on you like you were the only two in the room, music swelling around you as bodies pushed you closer together. His eyes bounced between yours as he started to lean in, his lips parted slightly, and a flash went off next to you, making you both turn and squint as Robin screamed, “Fucking hell! Shit!”

She quickly threw her phone down, her, Nancy and Eddie all grinning with their elbows on the table, blinking innocently and you rolled your eyes and Steve cleared his throat. 

Steve and you turned back to the stage, the moment had passed and you were honestly a little heartbroken. And a little annoyed at Robin, who you were sure was the reason you felt your phone buzz again.

When it buzzed again you rolled your eyes and glanced down. Your heart thrummed in your chest in time with the music building as you ignored the message from Eddie and clicked on Steve’s name.

Steve: Wanna get out of here?

You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced over at him. You took a deep breath and typed your message while smirking.

You: You can do better than that Steve.

He glanced at his phone and his lips twitched up on the left side. His eyes kept glancing up to you as he typed and your phone buzzed again while he was still writing. 

Eddie: You kids are so cute. Can I be both of your best man?

Robin: ARE YOU TWO TEXTING EACH OTHER WHEN YOU’RE FIVE INCHES A PART

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your drink and almost choked on it as you read the message that popped onto your phone as Steve slid his own into his back pocket with a satisfied smirk on his lips. 

Steve: You’re right. I can. I ordered an Uber and it’s outside. We’re going back to my place and I’m going to show you how much better I can do.

Steve: all. night. long.

As you finally swallowed, heart threatening to crack out of your chest as you glanced up at him under your lashes, he grabbed the drink out of your hand, setting it on the table and pulled you through the crowd. 

You were breathless from how fast he was going, pulling you out of the bar and into the waiting car. You giggled from how frantic he seemed.

He grabbed your cheeks, “I’m really sorry about this, your tip is already doubled and if you run every red light I swear I’ll quadruple it.”

You looked at him confused but as he pressed his lips to yours and you heard the uber driver sigh and turn their music up, you understood Steve was starting his text message vow, lips a blazing. 

You moaned into his lips, your hands on his scruff, down his neck and under his blazer, scratching your fingers up his back slow and hard, soaking in the thing you had wanted to do since he pulled up to the bar that night. 

His kissing was slow and sure, his hand pulling your jaw open for him as his tongue dipped into you. His other hand squeezed your thigh before roaming up to your hip, under your shirt and toying with the lace of your bralette. 

His warm fingertips on your skin buzzed, his mouth opening against yours, his breathing slow and heavy, panting into you. His breath and yours mixing until it felt like you were the same person breathing, warm and heavy and stars dancing behind your closed eyes.

The car stopped and Steve pulled you out, backing you into the lobby door with his hands on your hips and his mouth on your neck, both of you stumbling inside. 

He pressed the elevator button, wrapping his hands on your lower back and nipping your skin and you moaned, your head falling back against the door.

He pushed you inside as the door opened, bumping another button before attaching himself to your lips again. His fingers held your chin as he kissed you softer and sweeter. Kisses that left your stomach burning, your lips buzzing, your body sweating. He sighed as his thumbs rubbed over your cheeks and pulled you through the open door.

You didn’t stop kissing, bumping into the walls and stopping in the hallway against a wall or strangers door occasionally. Catching your breath in big gasps of air against each other as the other kept their lips moving, refusing to take a break. Frantic, needy, hungry for each other and not willing to waste any time. 

Steve pushed you up against his door and pressed his hands over your head, leaning his weight into you and kissed you so deeply you felt yourself drenching your underwear, his lips sucked on your bottom lip as he opened the door.

Once his front door closed, you were ripping each other’s clothes off. His blazer on a lamp, his shirt in the sink. Your shirt you were pretty sure went behind a plant and you didn’t see where the jeans went. You were down to your bralette and underwear before you saw him press his phone and the same song that had been on in the uber came out of a speaker. He flung it somewhere before grabbing you and lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist. 

He pushed you down into the couch and removed your underwear, his scruffy cheeks ticking your thighs before his mouth was on your soaking folds, licking a long and slow stripe through you.

You shuddered, “Steve.”

He licked you again, sucking on your lips before his tongue swirled on your clit, the bundle of nerves spasming under his attention. He moved to suck on the bead and you felt his spit pooling on it as he created a vacuum and two of his fingers dipped through your slick and into your entrance. 

The same song started repeating and you gripped his hat and yanked it off as your legs adjusted over his shoulders, him on his elbows and laying across the couch under you. 

You gasped as he pulled his lips away with a pop and pulled his fingers out and you choked out, “I-I like your haircut.”

He smirked up at you from between your legs, his lips rosy and glistening and his eyes blown out wide, pupils taking over the mossy color, his new scruff damp with you. He was handsome and perfect and he was only slightly cocky as he asked, “Yeah?”

You nodded and shivered as his fingers brushed through your wet folds, teasing as he watched how you threw your head back. He kept sliding them up and down, his large middle finger spreading you slowly as the music built and he sighed, his other hand wrapping under your knee, kissing up your thigh as he babbled.

“You’re so fucking hot.”

You whined as his fingers kept sliding, down to your entrance and teasing you and back up to your swollen clit, creating a friction that was building with the coil in your stomach as the music started over again. Kissing your thighs and the dips of your hips sweetly in contrast to the filth that was coming out of his mouth. 

He pulled through you slowly, his fingers making a v, “Your sweet pussy just dripping for me, baby.”

Holy shit.

“Making all this mess just for me,” his tongue swirled around your sensitive nerves again.

“Making all those pretty sounds.”

He licked sweet and quick around your nerves and into your lips before moaning, “I’m making this pussy mine. Nobody else right? It’s all mine. It’s Steve’s.”

You gasped as his tongue licked through you deeper, pushing into you harder and his nose brushed against your clit and you almost yelped from how overwhelming it all was. His words, his mouth, his nose. Steve was burying himself in you as deep as he could, devouring you like you were his first and last meal at once. Every time his lips and tongue moved, his nose hit your clit and you were panting under him as you gripped the couch and screamed as the music and Steve crashed into you.

And then you felt it. 

How his mouth and tongue were moving. How his nose kept nudging your clit at different angles. 

S.

T.

E.

V.

E.

You clenched around him and grabbed at his head, breathless, “Again. Do that again.”

He almost growled into you, repeating his spelling and you moaned as he finished the E and dug your heels into his back, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Steve-”

He nodded into you, “Mhm. Baby. That’s right. Steve’s pussy. Say it louder.”

He started sucking your clit again, three of his fingers inside of you and curling before pulling in and out quickly in sharp thrusts. 

You were panting, sweating, his lips a vacuum seal on the bead of arousal as the coil in your stomach started to snap and your legs pushed against his neck and shook, “Steve, I-I’m-”

His mouth moaned against you, nodding into your folds and the beat in the music broke and you gushed over his fingers and mouth as you screamed, “Steve!”

He pulled his fingers out of you before he licked everything you gave him until you had to pull him away from the over stimulating kitten licks he was still giving you. He kissed up your thighs and stomach before resting over you and grinding his clothed bulge over your wet and tired self.

Your eyelids fluttering and your skin sweaty, you were sure you looked a wreck beneath him as he kissed up your shoulder and neck. He rolled his hips against you and you sighed, your arousal already building again as he kissed your mouth slowly. Yourself, his whiskey and your cherries dancing on your tongue and he whispered against your lips, “How was that for better?”

You laughed around his lips and reached down and started to undo his jeans.

He kissed you sweetly, grabbing your hands and pushing them up over your head, keeping a firm hold on your wrists and dipped down to your neck again. He sucked a bruise into your skin as you started to make a damp spot on the front of his jeans while rolling your hips against him.

He pulled his lips away and his breath was hot against your ear as his fingers started to trail down your body slowly sending a wave of shivers through your body as he asked, “Think I can do even better?”

Steve Harrington knew what he was doing. 

And you were definitely falling for it. 

[tastefulstars]

You and Me

request fill for @starlightmoon1234 who requested soft!billy following around r wherever she goes.

billy hargrove x f!reader

a/n: i really hope you like this!!!

content: billy being a lil over protective, soft!billy

masterlist

The first time it happens, Billy panics. One second you were there, right next to him, then you were just gone.

He's pushing his way through the crowd and calling out your name, craning his neck and searching. His heart is pounding and his throat tight and he can't find you.

His panic increases, leaving him feeling frantic when he spots you - in front of a store window and staring at a display. He rushes to your side and he almost collapses in relief when you catch sight of him and turn to him.

"Look, Billy! They've got-"

He's pulling you into a crushing hug, face buried in your hair. Breathing you in and letting you settle his frayed nerves.

"What's wrong?" Your voice is soft, sweet. Your arms tighten around his middle.

"Thought I lost you" He murmurs, you squeeze him.

"You'll never loose me"

He does loose you, often.

He always feel some level of panic when he turns and finds you missing from his side, but it's never been like that first time. It's a sharp pain in his throat that won't leave until he has his eyes on you.

He's never sure if the need to be able to see you, to know where you were, makes him controlling, possessive, but he can't stop the surge of anxiety when you slip out of sight - knowing what's out there, the horrors of the world, knowing what the world does to people like you.

He takes measures to keep you close, from wandering. He keeps his hand firmly locked with yours, wraps his arm around your waist and holds you close. He's not always successful.

You're holding onto Billy's arm, leaning against him as he talks to one of his friends. He's angled in a way that keeps you in his eye-line while also being able to see his friend.

"I've heard that album is awful" His friend says. Billy doesn't miss the way you shift, attention drifting.

"Did you even listen to it?" Billy asks, he watches as your gaze darts around before settling on something, "or are you just-"

He cuts himself off and just walks away from his friend, following and keeping his eyes firmly on you.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders when you stop, pulling you against his chest and placing a soft kiss on your head.

"What'd you find, sweet girl?"

"Oh- um-" You flush at his words, stammering, "It's, um. The sweater"

He drags his gaze from you to the store, a mannequin wrapped in a big chunky sweater.

"Looks cute" He murmurs, "would look cute on you"

You make a small noise and he melts.

-

Steve invited you and Billy to join everyone for a picnic. Billy's helping carry bags and drinks to their chosen spot when he sees you drifting from the group.

He places everything down in a rush and follows you, ignoring the calls of 'what the fuck? Where are you going?'

When he catches up to you, you're crouched in front of a little patch of wildflowers, gently stroking the petals. He kneels beside you and his heart grows three sizes at the sight of your adoration.

"Pretty" he murmurs, "just like you".

You're face scrunches and you're giggling, covering your cheeks with your hands and he's never been so in love.

-

He's playing basketball at the park with a few friends, you tagged along even though he knew you wouldn't be interested - he was right. He tosses the ball, aiming for the basket when he catches your retreating figure out the corner of his eye.

He doesn't even stay to see if he made the shot, turning and jogging after you.

He entwines his fingers with you and glances down at your face.

"What's caught your eye, doll?"

He loves the way your cheeks flush, the way your eyes dart around and you bite your lip. The way you stammer and trip over your words, flustered.

-

He's got your curled up in his arms as you cuddle on the couch, movie playing. You sigh softly and rub your cheek on his chest and he's pretty sure he's going to explode with giddiness.

"Billy?" Your soft, quiet voice drifts up to him.

"Yeah, sweet girl?" He hums, you squirm slightly and he tightens his arms around you.

"Why'd you always follow me when I get distracted?" Your voice is so quiet, and he places a kiss on your hair.

"Wanna make sure you're okay" He mumbles, "Don't like not knowing where you are, doll"

"Oh.." You trail off, "I'm. I'm sorry for getting distracted easily"

Your voice hitches and little and he's almost crushing you into his chest, peppering kisses all over your head.

"Don't be silly - I love that you find beauty and wonder everywhere. It's more. There's. There's a lot of bad things in the world and I want to protect you from it. If I can."

You shift, peering up at him with wide eyes.

"Just wanna make sure my girl is safe"

His heart flutters and he cups your cheek.

"Besides, I'll follow you anywhere"

You look up at him, adoration and love plain in your gaze and he can't stop from surging forward, capturing you in a sweet kiss.

-

His friends tease him, calling him your puppy and laugh whenever he stops talking, drops whatever he's doing, to trail after you.

He doesn't care.

As long as he can see the wonder and happiness on your face.

As long as the blinding panic doesn't make his chest tighten and breath come hard.

As long as he knows you're safe.

Billy would follow you anywhere.

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 8 (Steddie X You)

A/N: This chapter is kind of more Eddie based than Steddie but both are still present and cute with Aurora and Dylan. I know in past chapters Eddie has always been very good with Dylan and kind of comes off more as like the fun dad so I wanted to write a chapter that explores more of the protective side of him when it comes to the reader's son. He's shown it of course with the reader and Aurora when he found out she was pregnant so :)

Warnings: This is more of an angsty chapter with fluff and some smut. There is mediation again between the reader and Charlie with lawyers and he degrades her (calls her a slut/whore). He does something extremely stupid when it comes to Dylan (Hopper has to get involved) so her son calls Eddie to help him. Eddie alludes to certain details when it comes to life before Wayne.

Word Count: 3261

“Are you kidding me?! She’s fucking two men, changed her name like that makes her fantasy scenario real, and she got pregnant! I haven’t even gotten remarried and yet she’s the better influence on my son?!”

“I think it’s convenient that you left out how you were fucking other women WHILE we were married.”

You and Charlie glare at each other across the mediation table. You really did have every intention of giving visitation back to your ex but right now he wasn’t make a great case for himself. You weren’t going to allow Dylan to be alone with him if he was going to continue to act like this and, honestly, your son still hadn’t expressed any interest to visit with his dad. 

“Last time I spent time with my son was almost a year ago. I think it’s been more than enough time to revisit visitation!”

Glancing at your lawyer you allowed her to speak for you. “We absolutely can but that’s not what this is. I mean you’re claiming that her environment is unfit but all you want is visitation?”

“My son needs a good influence in his life.”

“Yeah and he has three in the house.”

He starts to speak but his lawyer shooshes him. “Lidia, we can talk about visitation at least and go from there.”

“We can talk about it but the fact of the matter is, Dylan doesn’t seem to want to go over and Y/N doesn’t feel comfortable with him being alone in his care. Apparently, we tried that 10 months ago and it didn’t work out so well.”

“Just because I found out she was a whore and having my son call other men ‘daddy’.”

“Ok, we’re done here. If that’s how he wants to be then we’ll see you in court.”

#################

“He said what?!”

“Eddie, calm down.”

“Baby, DON’T…don’t tell me to calm down.”, he sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “He has no right to talk to you that way.”

“There’s nothing I can do.”, you shrug. Steve’s eyes shift between you both as he bounces Aurora in his arms. “I mean everyone else is calling me that.”

“That doesn’t make it ok and thankfully no one has had the balls to say it around us including your ex because they know we’ll beat the shit out of them.”

“Oh really, freak?” You playfully wink as he makes a face at you. 

Dylan slides into the kitchen and climbs on to a chair at the table as he places his homework in front of you. “Mom, I need help.”

“Good thing you came to me because I don’t think these two can handle eight-year-old math.”

“Did you hear that, Ro? Mommy thinks she’s so funny. Yes, she does.” The baby coos and smiles at Steve as he mocks you.

Later that night as Eddie put Dylan to bed, you and Steve sat together in your room playing with Aurora.

“Dada. Can you say Dada?”, he grins up at her as she leans back against his knees. Steve cranes his neck to try and look at you as you lay on your back beside him. “What was Dylan’s first word?”

“Mama.”, you smile as you reach out to pinch her cheeks. “Mama? Do you think we should give you both your own name?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Neil Patrick Harris’s kids call their dads ‘Dad and Papa’. Should we do something like that?”

“I think it would be more confusing for her. I mean Dylan says ‘Dad’ to us both. It’s already going to be interesting enough explaining why he calls us ‘Eddie and Steve’.”

“Yeah…THAT will be the interesting part.”, you giggle. “I told him I changed my name and he said that was cool.”

“Good. I’m glad he likes that. Yeah? You like that to, honey?” His grin grows with Aurora’s. “Mommy’s last name is the same as yours.”

“What did mommy do now?” Eddie sighs as he jumps into bed beside Steve, leaning in to give the baby sloppy kisses on her cheek as she laughs and reaches for him. He places her on his stomach, laying her back against his knees. 

“Dylan also mentioned something to me but you can’t tell him I told you. I think he should talk to you himself but I think you guys should be prepared.” You sit up and cross your legs as you face them. “He said…he’s been wanting to call you dad full time…as in no more ‘Eddie and Steve’. He’s just nervous because of everything with Charlie and he knows it will make his dad angry.”

“What did you say to that?”

“I told him it was his choice. If he feels comfortable then he should be able to.” Your eyes flick between them. “What are we thinking?”

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie continues when you nod. “If he wanted to call Vivian ‘mom’, would you be ok with it?”

“I…would be ok with it in the sense of…that’s how he feels and what he wants. It would still hurt a bit that he would be saying it to the woman Charlie hurt me with me but…” Steve reached out to run his thumb along your face. “I told Dylan whenever he was ready, he should talk with you both so you can tell him how you feel.”

###########

“Hawkins Auto Repair. This is Eddie.”

“Eddie?”

“Dylan? What’s going on, kid?” The metalhead glances at the caller id, noticing it’s not the elementary schools or your cell phone number. “Are you ok?”

“My dad picked me up from school. I told him I needed to call mom to let her know but he said I shouldn’t. Eddie, I want to go home.”

Eddie’s cell phone starting buzzing in his pocket, realizing he had a few missed calls from you and Steve. 

“Ok, kid. Sit tight. I’m on my way.”

****

Eddie’s van skidded down the street just as he pulled up to Charlie’s house. 

He quickly got out, banging on the front door until it swung open and to his surprise Vivian was standing on the other side.

“I told him this was a bad idea.”

“Where’s Dylan?”

She points towards the back of the house but as the metalhead walks down the hallway, Charlie exits a room, meeting him halfway. 

“You’re not taking my son. He’s safer with me than with you freaks.”

“Said the man who just basically kidnapped him. How fucking stupid are you? Do you really think Y/N’s going to ever let you see him now?”

“I don’t care what that slut thinks or does—”

Eddie stepped forward till he was right in Charlie’s face. Both men were about the same height but Eddie’s fury made him seem so much taller.

“Watch your fucking mouth. The only reason I haven’t hit you yet is because Dylan is around somewhere and is scared enough but if you insult his mother one more fucking time…I swear to God, Charlie.”

“My son isn’t scared.”

“Oh yeah? Then why did he call me begging for me to come pick him up?”

“Dad?”

Dylan’s head poked out of a room with his backpack on his shoulders. 

“Dil, keep playing your video games and I’ll be right there…”

Both men watched as your son carefully slid around Charlie’s angry, intimidating frame into Eddie’s arms who immediately picked him up and held him protectively.

“Dad, I want to go home.”

Your ex exhaled, closing his eyes as he realized his son wasn’t referring to him but the man holding him. Eddie took the opportunity, turning around and heading out the front door with his son in his embrace.

#################

You were pacing in the living room as Steve spoke with Chief Hopper in the kitchen. As soon as the front door swung open, Dylan ran through searching for you. 

He tackled your body and you picked him up into your arms, not caring that he was much heavier and harder to lift now that he was older. 

“Are you ok?! Where were you?! What happened?!”

“Charlie picked him from school and took him back to his house.” 

Both you and Steve looked at Eddie, your eyes filled with more fury than they had ever seen. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” As you started to head for the door, the chief cut you off and pulled you back into the kitchen.

“Ah, no. No killing. At least hatch your plan when a police officer isn’t here. What…what do you want to do now, Y/N? Do you want us to go get him and bring him in?”

You glanced at Dylan who was still hugging your waist as you ran your fingers through his hair. You looked over at Eddie, who’s arms were folded as his concerned eyes kept scanning over your son. 

“We never had a mom who cared about us the way you do with your son…”

“Yeah…let’s, um, let’s do that.”

#################

“Hey, princess.” Eddie slid down next to you on the steps leading into the backyard, lighting a cigarette before offering you one that you gladly accept. “What’s running through your mind, baby?”

“Was he scared? When you picked Dylan up, did he seem terrified?”

“I wouldn’t say scared. Confused. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t call you and tell you where he was.”

“I’m glad he was able to reach you…”

Eddie blows a cloud of smoke from his lips as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Hey. He’s ok. He’s a smart kid and knew exactly what to do. You did the right thing to by telling Hop to arrest him. This wasn’t ok, sweetheart. He needs to understand that he can’t do things like this.”

“I didn’t want this for my son. I… I don’t want him to go through what you went through.”

Eddie took the cigarette out of your hand, squishing it with his in the ashtray, and promptly tugged you into his chest as he held you to him. 

“Y/N, he won’t. He has so many people that love him and are there for him including the man that was there for me. He’s going to be alright, baby.” You pulled back and gently kissed his lips. “I think it’s worth noting… Vivian is on his side to. She’s the one who let me in and said she tried to talk Charlie into bringing Dylan back to you.”

You nod as you wipe your eyes and head back into the house. Steve was on the floor scrolling through his phone as Dylan laid next to Aurora as she played. As you sat next to him, Steve flashed you his phone showing you text messages from Hopper. He had arrested Charlie, processed him, and whenever you, Eddie, and Dylan were ready to come down and fill out some forms. 

You leaned against the man’s shoulder as he kissed your forehead. 

“Eddie? Steve?”, Dylan called their names without looking in their direction as he reached out to tickle his sister who cooed. 

“Sup, little man.”

“Can I call you dad now like Ro will? All the time?” He was still looking away from them, almost as if he was afraid of their answer.

“Of course, kid.”, Eddie smiled.

“Of course. As long as you’re comfortable.”, Steve follows.

“Cool… and you’ll call me your son?”

“We already do.”

His little face finally looked up to meet the three of yours, grinning. As he began to stand to head upstairs, Steve reached for his shirt and pulled him back to give him a hug. Dylan let him go to hug Eddie before giving you a kiss on the cheek and running up the stairs. 

#############

You had so much trouble sleeping that night, thinking about the day’s events and everything that happened. You thought about little Eddie seeing his dad arrested and behind bars, picturing him feeling so confused and alone. You imagined that’s why he knew what to do and kicked into protective dad mode to get his son back where he knew he was safe. 

Then, you couldn’t help but think about Charlie. When you met him, you knew he had problems with his stepdad. He always told you he would never do anything to hurt Dylan or make him feel like he was unloved. Retracing the memories of your marriage, you wondered how he got from there to here. He probably felt like this was the best option to getting his son back after feeling like he was slowly slipping away. Charlie was desperate. What he went through didn’t excuse the behavior but you couldn’t help but sympathize with him. 

Your hand reached out caress Eddie’s cheek when you saw him sigh in his sleep. Scooting closer to him, you pressed your forehead to his as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His palm slid down your lower back, pulling your hips to his as you wrapped your leg around his waist. 

You marveled at the impulse; the fact that for him that was an automatic reaction as he still slept soundly. 

“Eddie?” You gently pecked at his lips as you whispered his name. “Eddie.” 

He softly exhaled before slowly reciprocating your kisses. “Hm… what’s going on, babe?”, he grumbled in a sleepy tone. 

“Nothing. I just…can you make love to me?” 

Without hesitation, Eddie rolled you on to your back, kissing your cheek and neck, down your body until his head disappeared under the covers. On the other side of you, you felt a warm chest press against your side as Steve’s hand grazed your stomach. His eyes were still closed as his breath warmed your ear. 

“Do you just need Eddie, honey?”

You moaned when you felt the metalhead’s tongue play with your clit. “Please…I always need you both. Fuck.”

One of your hands reached down to rub the bulge in Steve’s boxers as your other pressed Eddie closer to you. Steve’s own palm ran over your smooth skin and along your breasts as he delicately kissed your neck. 

Eddie always had a way of knowing what you needed when it came his lips between your legs. His mouth and tongue devoured you in all the right ways until you felt your legs shake and you came, him licking you clean before tenderly kissing your thighs.

After gradually climbing back up your body, you opened your legs and wrapped them around his waist as he guided himself into your entrance. You both moaned as his head fell into the nook of your neck, thrusting his hips at a steady pace as your fingers tangled in his hair. 

“Thank you, Eddie. Mmm—not just for today but—mmm—for everything. I love you both so much.”

The metalhead’s movements stopped as he lifted his head to look down at your face, his eyes much more coherent. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing—”

“No, not nothing.”

Your eyes turn towards Steve who also seems more awake as he waits for your answer. 

“You don’t talk about your life in detail before Wayne. I understand that and you know I would never push you.” Your palm reaches up to caress his cheek. “I just…after today and everything you did for him…I keep picturing little Eddie being alone and scared…”

Eddie gently smiles as he begins thrusting into you again, leaning down to kiss your lips. “Sweetheart, little Edward Munson went through some shit. That’s why you four —mmm—are safe with me. I get it and like—mmm—Steve said Aurora and Dylan are going to have a better life.”

You whimper as he pumps into you faster, hitting those spots that make your toes curl. “I love you, baby. Cum for me, princess.”

As his forehead falls on yours, you pant soft moans against his lips as you cum, your pussy clinging to him as he follows after, spilling his seed inside you. 

While Eddie places tiny pecks down your neck, you glance at Steve as he curls into his frame, stroking his cock as he cums. 

“Steve…I could have—”

“No. You and Eddie needed this. I’m fine, baby, trust me.” He rises from the bed, heading for the bathroom to get a rag as Eddie pulls himself out of you and rolls to his side. 

“Unlike my dad, Y/N, I genuinely believe… Charlie wasn’t being malicious. I think he felt trapped. It’s no excuse though. For Dylan’s sake, hopefully, he’ll really shape up now.”

Steve returned quickly taking care of you before bouncing back into bed and pressing himself to your side. A breathy laugh escapes his chest as the baby monitor lights up, Aurora’s gentle cries filling the room. 

“I got her. You two try and get some more sleep. You have an interesting day ahead of you.”

############

Eddie sat with Dylan in Hopper’s office as they filled out their statements of the events that had unfolded. You had already completed yours since there wasn’t much to tell besides what your court order states and the panic you felt when you went to pick up your son and he wasn’t there. 

As you sat just outside waiting for them, a tiny figure took a seat beside you on the bench you were sitting at. Vivian’s sympathetic eyes met yours as she turned to give you here full attention. 

“I’m sorry for what he did. I had no idea he was even planning to do that. When he came home with Dylan, I thought…I thought you had said it was okay. But then he asked to call you and Charlie said no and…”, she exhales as she tries to form her next words. “I know… you hate me and you have every right to but I hope you know that I love your son very much. I want Charlie to be in his life but he needs to do this the right way and this”, Vivian gestures absently around the police station. “This wasn’t it.”

You nod as she speaks, absorbing her words. It comforted you to know that she cared for your son that way and should he ever go back to that house in the future she had his best interest at heart. Just like with Eddie and Steve, Dylan was safe with her. 

“I don’t hate you. Not anymore anyway.” You flash he a tiny smile. “I hate that—”

“No, no, Y/N. You don’t have to… I get it.”, she cut you off. 

“Hey, Vivi.”, Dylan grinned as he walked over to give her a hug. 

“Everything ok?”, Eddie asked.

“Yeah. We were just talking.” You smile reassuringly as you rise to your feet. 

“You made the payment, Vivian?” She nods at Hopper’s question. “Alright, let me make a quick call and they’ll bring him down here. Y/N, I’ll finish typing all this up and send it to you later to get to Lidia.”

It’s your turn to look at Vivian with sympathy as she shrugs. “My father owns that hardware store in town. He took out another mortgage so we could bail him out.”

Eddie sat beside her and without warning yanked her into his arms. Dylan watched them with wide eyes trying to understand. You on the other hand, understood exactly what was happening and the metalhead affirmed it as he pulled away.

“My mother did this dance a lot. So many times in fact that we lost our house and she lost her job. Make sure he understands, Vivian, you’re only going to do it once.” ################ @adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @luna-munson83

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[fineprintedsunsets]

ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇs

(Part 1 Of "Bucky & Bunny" Mini-Series) | Master-List Link

Synopsis: You met Bucky while delivering something for a friend, and from that night on, he’s regretted it. 

Word Count: 3.7k

!Trigger Warnings! -mild non-consensual touching (beginning only). angst. oral (fem receiving). Female reader “you”, with overuse of pet name “bunny”. praise kink. abusive male (not bucko). mentions of alcohol consumption. au. fingering.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 

Manaic- Conan Gray

1:35 ───ㅇ─────3:47

“Hey, doll.” A gruff voice made your heart leap from your chest, a sudden shock rushing through you as you rounded the corner. 

You fixed your gaze on the voice, stuttering. “Hey -Uh- You?” The case you were carrying landed on Steve’s dining room table, he had asked you to deliver something to his apartment since he was away on some mission. Steve, however, never mentioned a man, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a metal arm.

He also happened to be shirtless, exposing his bare muscled chest. You adverted your eyes immodestly at seeing his half-naked frame, your eyes falling upon his arm. 

“What’s in the case?” The man tipped his chin toward the black box, you only shrugged. 

“Steve send ya’?” You nod, suddenly unable to speak words. Who was this man? Should you alert Steve? 

“Speak.”  He pushed away from the counter his fingers were previously wrapped around, crossing from one room to the next. You had to look up to meet his eyes as he towered over you. 

“Yes, who are you again?” You bit, fixed on him. You can smell his scent, his aftershave, his body wash. You rid the thoughts away as you stand your ground. 

“Bucky Barnes, Although most know me by The Winter Soldier.” Bucky tossed a smile as he looked down, focusing on your soft features, your doe eyes. 

His words had you backing up a few steps, finding it incredibly hard to breath. You had heard Steve talk about him before, and his reputation was anything but clean. 

It was bloody. 

Bucky’s eyes never left you, he couldn’t help but feel the sliver inside of him, the bit of heart he had- sink into his chest. He hated people's reacations when he had said who he was,  most of all yours. For some reason, it had felt more disappointing to see your face fall flat and your breath quicken. 

It was more heartbreaking than the others, but the catch? He didn’t know why. He only met you all but 3 minutes ago. 

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Bucky’s tone had dropped a few notches as he steps toward you again, Your eyes are kept on him, not allowing them to land anywhere else. 

“I should go, Steve just needed me to drop the case off.” You cast your eyes doward, trying to walk past him but Bucky wouldn’t let you. His cold metal fingers met the flesh of your wrist, making you spin around, your eyes wide. 

You had dealt with people like him before, monsters. But never has this amount of fear coursed through you. Bucky looked at you, his false fingers clamped hard against your flushed skin. He only wanted to talk, he didn’t mean for you to be scared. 

“I just want to talk. I don’t get a lot of company up here.” 

You felt his fingers move themselves from your arm, taking the coolness of his touch with him. You were on the fence, this couldn’t be the ruthless winter soldier. He seemed to.. vulnerable.  “Who are you?” 

“A secret,” Bucky mutters, barely audible.

“What?” You question, craning your neck to hear him better. You feel his breath against the shell of your ear, unaware he had gotten so close. Bucky’s behind you now, back to chest. You wrapped in his scent again as his breath caresses your ear, his lips close enough to bite down if he wanted. 

Your whole body was still, maybe out of fear, out of some other emotion you had yet to identify. 

“Come on, I can be gentle-” His breath fans to your neck, “Or Rough.” Bucky places a kiss at the side of your throat, smooth and gentle. It’s enough to make you swallow as heat rushes through you. You can feel his muscled chest pushing into your back. Panic starts to rise above all of it though, his metal arm comes around his side, splaying its fingers across your stomach, pulling you into him.

You lose it, you elbow him in the side, making a grunt admit from his mouth, and you spin until your back is against the door. Your breath comes out in heaves, and Bucky’s touch still lingers on you, his scent still filling the air. 

“You're a monster. Monsters don’t wield gentle hands.” 

“I’m a human being.” Bucky counters, his eyes wide with surprise. He hadn’t meant to touch you like that- especially without your permission. He just wanted to know what you felt like against him, what you tasted like on his lips.

You turned toward the door, your eyes over your shoulder, looking at him, leaving him with six parting words. “Not with that arm your not.” 

✪

4 Months Later, New York City   

Your life had consisted of partying, avoiding the Avengers, and more partying. It had gone to complete utter shit, not because of anyone in particular. You let it get to its current state. 

Tonight though, you were as sober as ever, you went out with Jack and his friends. Which happened to be your first mistake. Jack was known to be quite handy when it came to you. Although you denied liking him romantically multiple times, it had been a while since anyone had touched you the way he touched you. 

Even if it was a bit terrifying. 

The music drowned out the rest of your thoughts. People throw back shots, clinging glass landing on the hard surface of the bar top. Sober people mixed with drunken ones, and the flashing lights made your head ache. 

“Baby, Come dance with me!” Jack, who was well on his way to his fifth drink and quite hammered, shouted toward you. You sighed, knowing full well his words were slurred and if you turned around you’d bet he couldn’t stand on his own two feet.

Turning around in your bar stool, swiveling towards Jack, who was now hovering over you, his breath reeking of alcohol. 

He slung a hand around your shoulders, his body weight resting on your bones. “Jack.” You warn, looking into his dim brown eyes. 

“Get up, dance, have a drink.” Jack's words were slurred, as he tapped the bar, signaling for the bar tender to pass him another drink, the tall dark man only shook his head.

“Bud, I said another drink for me and the lady.” You shook my head at the bartender, You couldn’t drink, You were your ride home, and Jack has had quite enough. 

The shaking of the bartender’s head was not enough, Jack growled, slamming his hand against the bar again. “Jack let's not make a show-” 

“Shut up, bitch. Give me another drink, man.” 

The words hurt you a little bit, but deep down you know this was the outcome. Jack got angry when he drunk, with in turn caused him to act out. And when he acted out. 

It was never good.

People were starting the notice, many were coming to gather around you guys, looking at the commotion. The bartender didn’t seem upset in the slightest, he’s probably due twitched hundreds like Jack before. 

“What did you just say?” You turn around at the voice that is right beside you, knowing who it is before you turn around. 

Bucky. 

You swivel toward him, looking up into his eyes with a pleading face. You haven’t seen him in months, and you intended to keep it that way. 

“Don’t.” You manage to growl, fingers gripping the bar top, another trying to get Jack to calm down. 

“Let’s go, bunny.” Bucky places three metal fingers on your elbows, tugging gently. You spun around, your eyes shooting him a nasty glare. 

“I don’t know you, please leave me alone.” Bucky’s eyes turned for a moment, delving deep into emotion you could not feel. 

“You only want one thing from him, and you're not getting it tonight.” His voice is loud above you, people can hear, Jack can hear, except he’s too worried about the bartender denying him drinks. Your suck into Bucky’s pool of heat again, as he keeps his fingers locked onto your elbow. 

“You don’t know what I want.” You growl in response, grinding your teeth together. Everything begs you to leave, you don’t want to be here, the music is too loud, and you hate the smell of booze and loud people chattering.

But you couldn’t let Bucky be a lifeline.

“You don’t want to fuck him, bunny.” His voice is low now, only the two of you can hear it. Jack is screaming now, slurring his words, throwing bottles around. 

“I can fuck whoever the hell I want.” 

“The hell you can.” Bucky protests, gripping you harder, and pulling you from your seat. You want him to take you away, but not with Jack right here-

It's too late though, Jack has already noticed the tall man, with one metal arm holding onto you. “Get off my bitch,  what the hell is your problem-” 

You cringe at the words, but Bucky is livid, you can feel it, hear it, smell it.

“Bucky-” The words don’t register to him as he lets go of your elbow, grabs Jack by his throat, and throws him into a neighboring wall. People start to film, phones, cameras, oo’s and ahh’s. Some people are running, others are too mortified to move. And Jack barely had his head hanging down, his back slumped against the little bit of wall left. 

“Come home with me, bunny.” 

“Please”  Bucky begs, coming to you again, towering over your small frame. Your You'ree of how tight your dress hugs your body, and how heat pools in your stomach. 

“Go away, Bucky.” You manage to get out, even as every string in your heart begged you to go with him, tugging at your soul. 

“Please, Let me make that day up to you. At least let me explain.” Bucky captured a loose strand of hair in his fingers, twirling it around his bones before tucking it behind your ear. A simple move like that had your heart fluttering. You could barely make out his features in the darkness of the club, but the flashing lights helped just a bit. 

You finally sighed, getting up from your stool, “Okay.”

✪

 Bucky lead you to his car, made sure you got in and started to drive. Ten minutes later you were both at his apartment in Central New York, which happened to be a condo. Bucky was doing some avoiding of his own. 

You both sit in his dining room chairs, while Bucky gets you a glass of water. Accepting the refreshment was the easiest thing you’ve done today. It was gone in 5 gulps. 

Bucky starts, looking at you. “I love him-” “-Steve.” He clarifies, his thumb slides under your palm, his four flesh fingers resting over top your own. A rush of heat shoots through you, a familiar feeling when you're around Bucky. You nodded, signaling for him to continue. 

Bucky did, but not before taking a deep breath. 

“He kept me locked away in that apartment, I was a secret. He did it for good reason, I could have hurt people, and by that point-” 

“Enough damage had already been done.” You finish for him, feeling your heart shatter. 

“I hadn’t interacted with anyone in so long, and when I saw you, this beautiful woman who was in Steve’s apartment, I couldn’t control myself.” Beautiful. Bucky called you beautiful. You smiled weakly at him, wishing to control yourself. But everything, leading up to this moment is calling out to you. 

You on a path of destruction, Not as long as you destroy it first. 

“I’m sorry, bunny. I never met for you to feel the way you did.” You lean in closer, and Buck does it too, almost on impulse. You can see the worry in his eyes, the feelings he wants to hold back. 

For you. He doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Bunny, you don’t have to-” Bucky starts, seeing exactly where this is leading. You don’t care though, you’ve left it to boil for four long, excruciating months. 

“Just kiss me, Bucky.” 

He did, he moved closer to you, capturing your cheek in his warm palm. Heat rushes through you at the intensity of his gaze. Bucky captures your lips with his own, pulling your plump bottom lip between his teeth, sucking on the flesh. 

A whine escaped you but was barely audible as he began moving onto you, getting closer and closer as your tongues intertwined, as his metal hand cupped the back of your skull with gentle fingers.

Bucky pulls away, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you, your lips are already sore, but your body is still begging for more of his affection. 

“Do you want to do this, Bunny?” 

Sex. He means sex. Do you? 

“Yes, Bucky. I want nothing more than to have you inside me.” Bucky's eyes flickered, a groan emitting off his lips. You found your smile returning, just the sight of it had you both turned on. 

He cups your cheek, half sitting- half standing. His rough flesh grazes your flushed skin, “I don’t want to hurt you.” You can tell Bucky is fighting himself, he wants this more than anything, but the only thing he desires more is your guaranteed safety. 

“How about a safe word?” You counter, standing up with him, leaning your head into his open palm. 

“Of course, doll.” Bucky’s voice is soft, his eyes even softer as he looks down at you.

You think for a moment, searching your mind for the first word you can come across. “How about, Winter?” 

“Sounds perfect.” Bucky’s hovering over you as he nods, connecting your lips again in a hungry kiss. Your body is filled with anticipation, and your core is already buzzing. 

“Jump.” He orders, and you do without question. Your lips are still intertwined as Bucky catches you, his hands cupping your ass, supporting you. His warmth embraces you as does his lips. 

Everything feels unreal. 

Bucky starts walking you both to his bedroom, kissing your neck, your throat, and your shoulders. Anywhere he can reach he’s touching. His stubble scratches at your throat, adding to the pleasure of the experience. 

Once you get there, Bucky places you gently on the carpet, still standing. You quirk your eyebrows at him, wondering what he’s planning. Before you have time to ask, he’s on his knees in front of you, kissing up your thighs, pulling himself up to eye level. 

“Let me taste you first, bunny. I need it.” He begs, his fingers never shaking as he reaches for the back of your dress. You allow it, watching as it falls to the floor, pooling at your bare feet. 

Bucky wastes no time sliding the shiny fabric across the floor, losing it in the darkness now swallowing his room. He steps away from your body, his eyes roaming your thighs, your legs, your curves. 

“Perfect, bunny. You heard that, your fucking perfect.” A flutter is sent straight to your heart at his words, his metal hand reaches behind your back to unclip your lace bra, watching it be swallowed by the midnight darkness. 

Bucky again admires your breast, practically drooling. He’s hard, his erection growing painfully tight in his pants. He’s made a promise to himself though, he will show you pleasure, unlike your first time meeting.

Bucky Barnes Is Going To Ravish You. 

He grabs the sides of your hips, guiding you back towards the bed. You land with a soft thud, emitting a laugh, paring along with Bucky’s wide smile. The sheets and soft blankets feel heavily underneath your bare back, you expect Bucky to come on top of you, but he doesn’t. 

You look around before propping yourself up on your elbows. Bucky waits at the edge of the bed, his eyes focused on you, his knees pressed into the floor. 

“Can I eat you out?” He asks, already crawling towards you. Bucky places both hands on either side of your inner thighs, the cool metal hitting your skin. 

“Bucky is that really-” You’ve never had your pussy ‘eaten’ before. You’ve never felt comfortable enough with past partners to let them go down on you. 

“I want to bury my face in your pussy, bunny.”  Bucky’s voice is pleading, begging. It sounds like he wants it more than you yourself do. You nod, and in seconds he has your thighs pulled open, your underwear off and your cunt bare before him. 

Bucky could practically smell your arousal as he locked eyes with your dripping cunt, your perfect folds. 

“Is this alright?” He asks, looking up at you with expectant eyes. You were damn near speechless at just the sight, but you nodded anyway. 

“I won't do it unless you say it, doll.” You groan, fisting the sheets in agitation. 

“Yes, Bucky.” It came out more like a moan than you intended it to. Bucky’s hands kept your legs spread as he licked a stripe up the bottom of your slit to your aching clit. 

The pleasure was unlike any you’ve ever experienced. You fist the sheets tighter as the tip of his tongue swirls at your clit, before it licks broad stripes up your pussy. 

Your elebows were growing weak as you tried to keep your eyes on him, his own looked at you each time he tasted you, each time his tongue swirled around your clit, making you burst with pleasure. 

“You're doing well, bunny. Has anyone ever done this before?” Bucky asks, breaking the near-silence, the only sound filling the room was the rain pelting against the windows and your shared moans. 

“No, James.” You moan out as your legs shake, his tongue delving inside of you, teasing your entrance. 

You buck your hips, wanting to feel more, needing to feel more. Bucky lets you as he moves in tune with your hip thrust. 

“It’s your first time then? Doing oral.” Bucky’s voice is deep and throaty, hot, wet, and dry. It’s everything and nothing all at once. You don’t want to answer the question, you advert your eyes from his, your cheeks going bright red. 

Bucky rises from your cunt to take your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look at him, “Hey, Don’t be embarrassed, bunny. I’m glad it’s me, that way your cunt will never forget the shape of my tongue.” 

He lowers himself back down to your pussy as he continuously laps at you, pleasure builds deep inside of your stomach as you fight to keep your balance. It only fails when Bucky pushes you back down, his flesh hand pushing down on your stomach. 

You're now face to face with the ceiling, no longer can you see Bucky’s eyes. You can hear his lapping, your moans, the wet noises coming from his tongue and your juices combined. 

“Relax, doll. Your so tight,  Do you think you could take my fingers?” 

You clench around his tongue, feeling it drive in and out of your hole. The anticipation rises, and you nod.

“Yes, Bucky.” He groaned in satisfaction, as he pauses his licking for just a few moments. 

He brings his metal hand to your lips, placing two fingers in front of your face.  “Suck on them.” Bucky orders and  You do, taking two of his digits into your mouth. The metal taste like blood, but somehow it’s not unsettling. 

“Do you want them inside you, bunny?” You shift as his flesh hand, previously on your stomach snakes upwards to capture a nipple in his hand, fondling its hardened peak. 

“Yes! Please, yes.” You're a mess, your orgasm has been taken away from you twice when Bucky asked if you were alright. Your thighs are sticky with salvia along with your arousal. 

Bucky’s metal fingers circle your entrance, 

“Your so wet, doll. Breath for me, alright?” You don’t question it, you breathe in and then out, before feeling Bucky’s fingers plunge inside of you. The stretch is mildly painful but the metal is cold against your walls, similar to glass toys when you put them in the freezer. You always liked the sensation of a cold glass dildo sliding into your wet cunt, but by then you were already warm and sweaty, the feeling never lasting long. 

But with Bucky’s fingers, the coolness stayed as he curled his digits, making your hips buck. This was otherworldly, unlike any sex you’ve ever experienced. His tongue meets your clit again as his fingers pump in and out of you. 

“You're doing so well, bunny. Your my good girl, you know that? Taking me so well, riding my fingers.” 

“Bucky!” His words were driving you closer and closer, your orgasm cresting with each growing second. 

“Are you close, bunny?” 

“Yes. God yes!” You first the sheets, your back arching as his fingers play with your nipples, his tongue swirls your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you. And his mouth. 

His filthy mouth. 

“Make a mess on my mouth, ride my fingers until you can’t anymore, Come for me, bunny.” The words are enough to push you over the edge. Your orgasm racks through your entire body, sweet oblivion making you moan with great volume, making your thighs shake as Bucky keeps thrusting his fingers inside you, allowing you to take full advantage of your climax. 

Bucky pulls his fingers out of you, smiling as he sees your limp body. He completed the promise he whispered to himself since he saw you tonight. 

“I love you, bunny.”

You smile in agreement, pulling your lips to yours. You can taste your sweet arousal, the air thick with the smell of sex.

“I love you too, Bucky.” He slides into bed next to you, pulling his gray blankets over your body, you're too tired to object, knowing full well you in need of a shower, as he pulls your body to you. You snuggle against him, feeling his stiff cock rub against your bare thighs.

“Bucky, you didn’t come-”

“Shh…”  Bucky silences you with a reassuring smile, tucking your head underneath his chin, and placing a gentle kiss on the side of your temple. 

You make a promise that night as well. 

You’ll make it up to him in the morning.

[ddejavvu]

To go off the anons request, could you imagine them separately teasing her and the reader gives them a random name, completely different one to each, and then they're confused when they bring it up and they both say a different name before they realize they were tricked?

part I | part II | part III | part IV

--

"Chili." You repeat to Eddie, "Like the Red Hot Chili Peppers."

Eddie quirks up a brow at your unusual code name, "Why, is he a redhead or something?"

No, you scoff internally, he's just hot.

"Yeah," You nod, locking in your fate, "He's got really nice hair."

"Not better than mine." Eddie narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, "Because nobody has better hair than mine."

"I think Steve would disagree with you," You quip, delighting at the flash of jealousy through Eddie's eyes, "But no, he doesn't have better hair than you."

"Good answer, Princess," Eddie picks at your cold french fries across the middle of his van with more interest than he'd shown his own food, "'Cause if you told me this idiot has better hair than me I'd have to kill him."

"Good luck," You remember Steve's remarkable ability with a bat, "He's pretty tough."

"Sounds like a douche," Eddie scoffs lightheartedly, "You sure you wanna get with this guy when a hunk like me's sittin' right here?"

He drags the sleeve of his shirt up to reveal his less-than-remarkable muscle build, his arm lacking definition as he flexes it to the best of his abilities.

"Eddie!" You giggle, his skin pale beneath his sleeve from a lack of sun exposure, "Put that away, you're blinding me!"

"You little shit!" Eddie lets out an incredulous laugh and the motion of his head sends his hair bobbing around his shoulders. He pelts you with a french fry that you barely dodge, "'Last time I let you talk my ear off about Chili."

--

"Lookin' for Pineapple?" Steve leans over to stage-whisper into your ear as you crane your neck around at the tackily-decorated walls of the diner in search of a clock. His breath fans hot over your skin and you tense, but he takes it as embarrassment rather than attraction, and you're thankful for that.

"No!" You insist, and it's true, because Pineapple, rough on the outside, sweet on the inside, just happens to be sitting across from you, his white sneaker knocking into your own shoe as he plays footsie with you beneath the table, "Shut up, Steve."

"Pineapple?" Eddie's brows furrow as he sips on a milkshake, "You're having strawberry, sweetheart, pineapple would be shit with that."

"Not the food," Steve relishes in the bragging rights he's about to unleash, "That's her code name for her crush."

Eddie's mouth drops indignantly open before you can stop it, and you swear if it had happened any faster some of his milkshake would have come out. But he sends a swift kick to your shin under the table, "You tricked me!"

Steve isn't so proud now, confusion tugging his brows down, "Tricked him?"

"She told me his code name was Chili." Eddie sits back against the booth behind him, crossing his arms over his chest, "Which one's the real one?"

"Neither," You admit, trying to bury your face in your milkshake so that you can attribute the tremble of your voice to the audio distortion of the glass, "I don't have code names for either of them, I just wanted to give you more information so you'd get off my back!"

You wish you'd thought about your words before they escaped. But now Steve and Eddie were gaping at each other with gleeful scandal in their eyes, "Either of them?"

"There's two?!" Steve elbows you, and you let out a choked groan into your glass.

"No more questions!" You feel Eddie's feet pin one of yours between them, his shit-eating grin meeting you from over the table, "Shut up and drink your milkshakes!"

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 11: Holidays

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 10

Present Day, December 1986

“Why does your house look emptier than normal?” Robin asks, leaning on the kitchen counter.

“Probably because it’s not drowning in Christmas decorations like your house is,” Steve responds, pulling the frozen pizza out of the oven.

Robin cranes her neck to look in the doorway to the living room. Normally there would be a large tree sitting in front of the window, but this year there’s not. Steve thought about decorating, thought about doing something for the holidays. But so much has happened in the past few weeks that he just forgot. Or didn’t have time to think about it.

And when he did have time to think about it, he didn’t know what to do. He thought about asking Julie what she wanted to do but didn’t want to push. This was going to be a hard time for her, the first Christmas without her mom. Thanksgiving came and went without either of them noticing or saying something about it. Having just moved in, Julie was still adjusting, so Steve didn’t bring it up.

But now, there wasn’t really an excuse now. Steve should have asked. Should have asked what her mom used to do to make it feel like something was happening, instead of him just ignoring it. But the holidays were a sore subject for him too, and he tended to avoid it until it sprung on him. Buy gifts for his friends, expecting nothing in return, and then spend Christmas alone in his big house.

At least that’s how it went until Dustin called him on Christmas morning and practically dragged him out of the house to come spend it with him and his mom. It was nice having something to do. Something that was considered normal, a staple. And now this year he was invited to the Byers’ for Christmas Eve dinner.

Steve wanted to go, continue the little traditions he has made for himself. But then there was Julie. He didn’t know how she wanted to go about this. Or if she wanted to go to places where she barely knew the people there.

He just really needed to ask.

“Your house does look suffocating, and that’s coming from someone who’s uncle is a Catholic,” Eddie pipes in, trying to take a piece of the pizza but flinching away.

“I just pulled that out of the oven, give it a minute.”

Eddie flips him off gently, while trying again with his other hand. A knock comes from the front door, and Steve excuses himself to go answer it.

Nancy is on the other side, smiling. “Hey,” she says excitedly.

“Nance, welcome home,” Steve ushers her in and pulls her in for a hug. “I thought you were supposed to get back last week.”

“Yeah, I was, but I got held up at work. How’s it going? I haven’t been able to get a hold of you for a while.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “It’s been interesting. I’ll have to fill you in-.”

“Steve, who was at the,” Robin walks into the hallway. “Oh my god, Nancy, hi.” She runs up and almost tackles Nancy into a hug.

Eddie wanders into the hallway, confused. “Oh, hey Wheeler. Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Nancy mumbles while Robin still squeezes her. When Robin pulls back, Nancy tries to lean in for a kiss, but Robin stops her.

“There’s someone else in the house,” she explains.

Nancy’s brows knit together. “Oh, are one of the kids here?”

“Something like that.” Steve fills in.

He hasn’t exactly talked to Nancy in a few months. The months where his life had news other than just general work things. Sure, he meant to call her, meant to fill her in. They became pretty close over the summer, forming a friendship after their weird past. But Nancy got busy, and so did he. So, the phone calls kind of dwindled.

Robin calls Nancy at least twice a week, but they started dating a month or so before Nancy went off to college, so it was expected. Steve just assumed that Robin would have filled her in, but he guesses not.

“Wait a second,” Eddie starts figure out.

Robin turns to Steve. “You seriously didn’t tell her?”

“It just didn’t come up, ok,” Steve loosely defends.

“Oh my god, you idiot,” Robin rolls her eyes at the same time Nancy says, “Tell me what?”

Julie opens her door and walks down the stairs, stopping halfway. Eyes immediately widening when she sees them standing in front of the door. “Oh, hi. Is something happening?”

“No, nothing,” Steve says before anyone can jump in. “There’s pizza in the kitchen if you want any.”

She nods, making her way down the rest of the stairs. “Ok,” she says super confused, giving Steve a questioning look. He makes a face of “I’ll explain it later,” and she shrugs and heads to the kitchen.

When he turns back to the group, Robin has her arms crossed, Nancy has a very confused face, and Eddie’s trying hard not to laugh. Nancy crosses her arms, mirroring Robin, and raising her eyebrows. Waiting for an explanation.

“So, you might have missed something big,” he starts to explain.

“You think,” Robin interrupts. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell her about Julie.”

Eddie’s attempts at not laughing starts to fail. Steve slaps him on the arm, looking for support, but Eddie just raises his hands in defeat.

Steve lets out a long sigh, turning back to Nancy. “That was my sister, Julie. She’s living with me right now.”

Nancy’s mouth drops as her eyebrows raise even higher. She turns to Robin, who just nods in conformation. “I’ve known you for four years, and you never told me you have a sister,” she finally says.

“In my defense, I didn’t know I had a sister until two months ago.”

“You have known for two months and didn’t tell me,” she says louder.

Eddie is full on laughing now, trying to calm himself down, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. Robin just rolls her eyes more, too tired of this.

“A lot of things were happening, and I haven’t talked to you in a while. I got a promotion, had to get custody of her. Went through a lot of the mental side of things and a bunch of realizations about my childhood. It was a lot.”

Nancy squints her eyes, taking everything in. “I guess I can forgive that. But you need to pick up my damn phone calls.”

“That’s fair.”

There was more that he wanted to talk to Nancy about, things that she would know. But he didn’t want Julie to overhear, not about this. He hasn’t yet told her about the decision to sue his parents, or really done anything other than say he wants to. A few days ago, he had told Eddie about it. Had a few more tears about it too. Each time he said it, it became more real.

Each time, a small weight was taken off his chest. Because someone finally knew. Knew what he went through, and believed him, wanted to stand by him during this fight. Cementing the fact that what happened to him wasn’t normal and shouldn’t be ignored.

Nancy was one of the first people who pointed out something that his parents did that was wrong. How parents don’t just forget to call on their child’s birthday, or don’t show up at all. That getting a card months later without an excuse wasn’t normal. She would be proud of him for standing up, and he wanted her to know. Just not now.

Steve finally invites Nancy in past the doorway, leading her into the kitchen and offering some food. Julie is sitting at her usual spot at the island, listening to music through her Walkman. She looks up when they walk in, pulling the headphones off, soft sounds of rock music coming through the speakers.

“Julie, this is my friend Nancy,” Steve introduces. “She’s back from school for break.”

Nancy smiles at Julie. “Nice to meet you. I see it now,” she says towards Steve. “She looks a little like you.

“Everyone says that, but I don’t see it,” Julie says. Steve just shrugs.

“I think it’s the eyes,” Eddie mumbles with a mouthful of food, finally able to eat his pizza.

Robin shrugs, “Or the hair.”

After eating, Julie heads back up to her room, leaving the rest of them to catch up. They talk for a while until Nancy has to get back home. Steve sees her out, stopping to talk to her before she leaves.

“How are you really doing, with all of this?” Nancy asks, slipping her coat back on. “I mean, finding out your dad had another kid, and then taking her in after all these years. That had to be hard.”

Steve swallows. “Yeah, it was. Not the taking her in part, that was easy. But it kind of opened my eyes a bit. Showed me how much my parents did, or didn’t do, I guess.”

Nancy softens her face, reaching out to rub Steve’s arm, comforting him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m suing them,” Steve says, unable to keep it a secret. “For neglect. Since I’m over eighteen, it the only thing I can do to affect them now. And I want them to know, for a judge to make it real to them since it never was just coming from me.”

She gives him a sympathetic look, bringing him in for a hug. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll happily be a witness against them. And call me, please. I love talking to Robin, but I don’t like hearing everything about you from her. You’re my friend too, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. See you later, Nance.”

. . .

Julie sits on her bed, music playing through her headphone as she writes in the journal placed on her lap. Finally writes in this journal again. Something about the past few days gave her the motivation to finish what she started. For symbolic purposes, if anything. But it was going well, and she turned the story to reflect how she was feeling now. It was helping.

She thought with the holiday coming up in a few days, she’d be a mess. Christmas was never a huge deal in her house, not for a few years. It was just a day that her mom took off work so they could spend the day together. Julie would get a few new clothes, maybe a new pair of shoes, and her mom would get a picture to go with the story that Julie had wrote for her birthday.

But instead of crying, she just sat in her bed and wrote. Poured all the feelings of the past months onto page, like old times. She hadn’t been able to write at all since October. Since the accident. How she missed the feeling of paper under pen. Of the worlds she crafted because her own was missing something.

Except this time, her worlds included someone new. Something new. Julie always brought new characters into her stories when she needed to. Always incorporated her own experiences into her characters. This time, her experiences required a new person.

There was a light tap on her bedroom door. Julie slides her headphones off her ears, resting them on her neck, and hits pause. She looks up at Steve, waiting for her to say that he can come him.

He always does that. Respecting that her room was hers, and that she might want privacy. Never entering if she didn’t want him to. It was annoying on days where she really didn’t care you came in. But on the days where seeing another person would just make everything worse, she appreciated it.

“What’s up,” she says, closing her journal with her pencil to mark her place, setting it off to the side.

Steve enters. “So, I don’t know where you’re standing with this week, with-. Y ou know.”

“You can say Christmas, Steve. I’m not going to fall apart at the word.”

He shakes his head. “Yeah, right. So, with Christmas, I don’t normally spend it here. The Byers’ have a Christmas eve party that we’ve been invited to, and for Christmas morning, I normally go over to the Henderson’s.”

Julie tries not to feel affected by the way he says it. Like it’s normal not to spend a holiday with other people’s families. There’s nothing really wrong with that. Only that he does it because his own parents don’t bother to show up to celebrate with him.

Every new thing she learns about them just makes her feel sorry for Steve. And then sorry that she feels sorry for him. He probably doesn’t want that. But she can’t help it.

“And I know you don’t know them that well, so I was going to ask if you wanted to go, or we say no.”

“But you said you go there every year?” Julie doesn’t want him to miss out just because of her. He should still be able to live his life.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, but if you’re not comfortable to go, it’s not like I’m going to leave you alone.”

Julie takes a second to think. “I mean, I don’t know all of them sure. But I think I’ll be ok. It’s not like I don’t know them, and you hang out with them a lot. I’ll be seeing them a lot, so it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’d be honest if I wasn’t. You’re my brother and these people are your family, so I want to get to know them.”

Steve smiles. “Ok then. If it gets too overwhelming, just let me know, ok. We can always leave.”

Julie nods, opening her journal again as he closes her door.

. . .  

When Steve, Robin, and Julie pull up to the Byers’ house on Christmas Eve, it’s already packed. Noise hits Julie in the face when they walk through the door, the kids talking in the living room while the adults are mingling in the kitchen drinking some wine. A woman with brown hair and bangs comes over to greet them. Looking exhausted with an old apron tied around her.

“Steve, Robin honey. Good to see you.” She brings them both in for a hug, before turning to Julie. “And you must be Julie. It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard so much about you. You can call me Joyce, I’m Will and El’s mom.”

Before Julie can say anything, Joyce gives her a light hug. Julie doesn’t quite know what to, so she just gently returns it, awkwardly. It’s supposed to be welcoming, she knows. But it’s all too similar to something she knows and suddenly everything comes rushing back to the forefront of her mind.

Suddenly, she feels like crying again.

But she doesn’t because there are people here. This is a party. A happy one. It’s not meant to be ruined by a wave of unexplainable grief.

“I think El and Max are in her room, it’s a bit quieter in there,” Joyce says when she pulls away. “It’s all the way down the hall and to the left. Let me know if you need anything.”

She walks back to the kitchen, leaving Julie standing in the doorway. She shakes her head, telling herself that it’s ok. It was just a hug, that’s all it was.

“You ok?” Steve whispers, bumping into her shoulder gently.

Julie nods, promising not to ruin this for him. “Yeah. I’m just going to find Max, and Jane.”

“Ok, have fun. Remember, if it gets too bad, we can just leave, ok.”

She gives him a fake smile, nodding and heading through the crowd in the direction Joyce pointed her. She knocks gently on the last door on the left in the hallway, opening it to find Jane and Max talking. Jane jumps up when she sees Julie, running over and giving her a hug.

“Julie, I was hoping you would come.”

Max waves from where she sits on the floor. “Hi, Julie.”

“Hey,” Julie says, strained.

Jane’s smile falters slightly. “What’s wrong?” She pulls Julie into her room and shuts the door behind her, ushering Julie to sit down.

“Nothing,” Julie shakes her head. Blinking her eyes to get rid of the small line of water starting to build. “Your mom just gave me a hug, it’s nothing really.”

Jane sighs, smiling a bit. “Yeah, she does that.”

“She’s like a second mom to all of us, so it kind of always affects you.” Max adds. “You should have seen when she gave Steve a hug once, it was the first time I saw him almost cry.”

“I was just hoping that today was going to be a good day,” Julie half laughs, rubbing her sleeve on her cheek. “I’ve been having so many good days, guess I was due for a bad one.”

Jane reaches over and grabs Julie’s hand, comforting her with a small smile. She’s seen her do it with Max so many times, but she thought it was just them thing. But now that it happened, it’s comforting. Somewhere along the line, she was added into their friendship. It was nice.

“It is ok. I understand.” She pauses, thinking for a second before continuing. “Joyce is not my real mom. Or, what is that word?”

“Biological,” Max fills in.

“Right, biological. I met my biological mom once, she was frozen. Stuck in time. I could not be with her. My dad took me in, adopted me, and then Joyce took me in. I had so many good days, and bad days then. You cannot really choose when they happen, they just do. But you are safe here, with us. You do not have to pretend.”

Julie lets out a shaky breath. “I think I’m ok now. But thank you.”

There were more questions that Julie wanted to ask, but it didn’t feel right. The small story that Jane shared left blanks that were unfilled. Her past something that Julie still doesn’t know. Maybe she would sometime. But tonight was already sad enough, she wanted to move past it.

“Oh, who’s El?” Julie asks. “Joyce mentioned the name earlier.”

Max starts laughing, slowly followed by Jane. “I can’t believe we never told you.”

“It never came up,” Jane justifies.

“Jane is El. It’s a nickname.”

Julie makes a small o with her mouth. “Oh, ok. Can I ask why?”

“My middle name is Eleven, so it is short for that.”

“I’ve never heard that before,” Julie laughs. “But I guess that makes sense. Is it ok if I call you that too?”

El nods, smiling.

They three of them get back to talking, the cloud of gloom over Julie’s head slowly dissipating. It’s still there, but not as noticeable.

. . .

“You’re making that worried face again,” Eddie notices. “Calm down, she’s fine.”

Steve rolls his eyes, watching Julie as she sits and eats with the other kids. “Yeah, I know. I’m just making sure she’s not overwhelmed.”

“Anyone can be overwhelmed with those kids,” Robin adds, sitting down next to him with her food. “They are so chaotic when left to their own devices.”

“God, I know,” Steve sighs. “You think she’s ok though, after that moment when we came in.”

He noticed it, as small as it was. The small shift in her face when Joyce hugged her, the slight bit of water resting in her eyes. The same thing that happened to him the first time it he got one. Right after Star Court, when the government agents were asking everyone questions.

Steve was going around, making sure everyone was ok. The adrenaline still flowing through his veins and making his own pain go unnoticed. That and the rest of the drugs that were still in his system. He couldn’t stop moving. Not until Joyce, grieving Joyce, stopped him just to ask if he was ok. Gave him a hug that only made him aware of the fact that he’d be going to an empty house after all of this. Even if he ended up spending that night in a hospital room next to his best friend.

He knew how motherly Joyce’s hug were. Fitting for the kind person she was, and he loved getting the mother treatment from her. But with Julie, he wanted to make sure that she was ok.

“She’ll be fine. She went with El and Max afterward, if anyone can help her with that it’s them,” Robin comforts, and Steve knew it was true. He was happy that she started becoming friends with them. Growing a support system other than him.  

“What’s it like having someone else in the house now?” Nancy asks from across the table.

“It’s been an adjustment. A nice one, though. I’ve actually started to think about looking for a smaller place. Something just for the two of us, you know, that isn’t technically owned by my parents.”

Moving out has been in his mind for a while now. Obviously, he was never going to live with his parents forever. But for the past few years, it was convenient to be able to have a house he could live in rent free. Especially since he didn’t have a full-time job until a few months ago. It gave him a chance to breathe, recover from the years of terror.

But with the decision of going forward with suing his parents, getting kicked out was on the horizon. At least that’s what they would say about it. He was going to leave willingly, never looking back to that empty house. Leaving a shitty paint job in two of the bedrooms that will undoubtably thrown his mom into hysterics.

The thing that’s bothering him now, is that as soon as the paperwork is filed and his parents get word of it, they’ll come home. Do damage control, try and find a way to get the charges dropped. But he wasn’t budging. He’s not under their control anymore.

So, it’s ideal for him to find a place before getting everything started. But he needs to save up just a little bit more to get a place. Then, hopefully, with the payout of the case, he’d be able to support him and Julie for a while and try to get a better paying job. Maybe then he could get full custody of her too.

“That would be nice,” Nancy says. “There’s a bunch of availability now too, after everyone left. You might be able to find something cheap.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.”

. . .

Julie, El, and Max stayed with the rest of the group after dinner. The boys were playing some sort of game with El, while Max was making fun of them on the couch. Dustin wasn’t playing though, he was sitting next to Julie, distracted by something.

“Have you noticed something weird going on between Steve and Eddie,” he asks Julie, her taking a second to realize that he was talking to her.

She shrugs. “Not really. I mean I didn’t know them as long as you have.”

“Yeah, but you live with Steve. And him and Eddie hang out like, all the time now.” He looks back at them. “Something just seems off.”

Julie looks to where he is. Steve and Eddie talking off to the side. Huddled together, whispering. It’s not the weirdest thing she’s seen. The party is pretty loud, so they probably just want to hear each other.

“They look pretty normal to me,” she says.

“Yeah, but just wait, there. Right there when Eddie does the thing.”

The thing in question, is gently placing a hand on Steve’s side, whispering something directly into Steve’s ear. Making him stutter for a second and take a sip of his drink. It could be normal, just a thing between friends, but she’s not so sure anymore.

She wouldn’t have a problem if there was something going on in a “more than friends” way. There were worse problems in the world than care about who people loved. And it sort of made sense, from what she knew. Dustin seemed to be pressed about it, though.

“So, it could be a normal thing between them, you don’t know,” she defends. Worried that Dustin might have a problem with it.

Dustin pulls his attention away from them, facing Julie. “That’s the thing, I do. Even after spring break they weren’t like this. Well, kinda, it’s complicated. But like, a few months ago, something shifted between them and now they’re acting weird.”

“Would you have a problem with it, if there was something more happening?” Julie can feel her defenses rising, protecting. These people were Steve’s family, but he was hers too. She wasn’t going to let them say anything bad about him.

Dustin makes an offended face. “What no. I don’t really care as long as they’re happy. I just want to know.” He looks back over to them. “We’ve been through a lot together. I want them to know it’s ok to tell me about this, if it is that.”

Her defenses lower themselves again. She gently bumps her shoulder against his, getting his attention again. “If he ever tells me anything, I’ll let him know. I really don’t know more than you do.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it. I’m glad he has you, you know. I always worried about him alone in that house, with no one around. He never wanted me to, the self-sacrificing idiot. But I was. It’s nice to know he has some actual family living with him now. Not just his stuffy piece of shit parents that are never around.”

“You know you really shouldn’t talk bad about people’s fathers in front of them,” Julie fake defends, before breaking out in a smile.

It takes a second for him to register that she did, before he starts laughing. “Well, it’s true.”

“Oh, I know it is.”

. . .

Steve says his final goodbyes to the people all piling out of the Byers’ house. Pulling out of the driveway to go drop Robin off at her house, and then head home for the night.

“Did you have a good time?” Steve asks.

Julie nods. “Yeah, it was fun. I finally learned Jane’s nickname is El. I can’t believe I’ve known her for months now and no one told me.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah, I saw the face you made when Joyce said it. You were so confused.”

“Hard not to be when she says a name I’ve never heard in my life, expecting me to know who she’s talking about.”

Julie’s smiling, laughing. He was expecting her to be overwhelmed with everything, but she seems fine. He feels the need to check in on her, make sure that the small moment she had at the beginning of the night didn’t affect anything. That she’s ok. But she’s so happy right now, he’d rather not bring it up.

“So, tomorrow,” Julie starts. “You said you normally go over to the Henderson’s.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“It’s ok if we go, I was just going to ask if we could go somewhere after.” She pauses, fiddling with her hands. “I was wondering if we could go visit my mom.”

Steve softens, pulling into the driveway. He parks the car, turning to look at her. “Yeah, we can go visit her.”

The next morning, they go to the Henderson’s for breakfast. Claudia welcoming them in with warm hugs, freshly made cinnamon rolls ready at the table. She asks Julie pretty much every question in the book, wanting to know everything about her. Making her feel at home as much as he does.

This place always felt more of a home than his own house did sometimes. He was never one to say no to Claudia’s dinner invites, after that one time where he did refuse, and she showed up on his doorstep with a lasagna in her hands. She was the only mother figure that he really had. Immediately taking him in as soon as she heard what it was really like in his home. She even started calling him and Dustin her boys. Because she loved them. She loved Steve.

When breakfast was over, Steve thanked Claudia for having them over, and excused the two of them. Accepting her hug goodbye and giving Dustin’s hair a good ruffle, warranting him an eye roll before a reluctant hug. Julie says her own goodbyes, getting her own hug from Claudia and an awkward fist bump from Dustin. They say their final goodbyes before leaving.

In the car, Julie pulls out a journal, holding it in her lab. Steve knows better than to ask about it, he recognizes the pattern on the front. It’s her mom’s journal. The one that Julie would give her every year with a new story.

He knew why she wanted to go.

When they get to the cemetery, Julie takes the lead. Leading him to the small grave where her mother lies. Rebecca Lawson, Loving Mother engraved on the stone.

“Can you give me a minute with her,” Julie asks quietly.

Steve nods. “I’ll be over on that bench if you need me, ok.”

She nods before sitting on the cold ground. The blades of grass still gleaming with the morning frost. Steve gives her space, going over to the bench a few feet away. Sitting, and waiting.

Julie opens the journal in her lap, presumably reading it to her mom. Taking a deep breath every so often, before continuing. The pages turning until the end. At the last page, Julie turns the book outward toward the grave, showing her mom the picture at the end.

He couldn’t hear it, and he didn’t want to. Julie’s stories were sacred, for her and her mom. It wasn’t right for him to eavesdrop. This was Julie’s moment, she’ll call him when she wants to.

When she does, it’s a simple turn to Steve and a wave of her hand. He goes over to her, sitting beside her. Her eyes puffy, and her nose red.

“This is Steve,” she says quietly. “He’s my brother, I met him a little after you left. I wish you two could meet each other, I think you’d like him. He’s nothing like his dad, if you’re worried. I can tell even if I never met him. I’m living with him now. It’s not like living with you, but nothing ever will be.”

She takes a shaky breath, trying to find the strength to finish. “I miss you. Every single day. But it’s getting better. I think I’ll always be a little sad that you’re gone, though. That you’re not here with me anymore. To see me graduate, go off to college. Maybe get married one day. I’ll miss you all the time. But I know wherever you are, you’re watching over me.”

She wipes away the tear rolling down her cheek. “I love you. And miss you. I know I already said that, but it’s true. I hope you liked the story, I thought it concluded everything well. I’m sorry I didn’t get it finished by your birthday, but I thought it would be ok to give it to you today instead. It was nice talking to you again. I’ll come visit you more often. And you don’t need to worry about me, I’m doing ok.”

After a moment, Julie leans her head on Steve’s shoulder, quietly asking for a hug. Steve wraps his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I’m ok.”

For the next few minutes, they sit there. Steve giving her the time all the time she needs.

“Thank you for being here with me.”

Steve rubs her shoulder comfortingly. “You’re welcome.”

“I meant what I said, I think you two would really like each other. She would be happy that I’m here with you. And I know she would thank you for taking care of me.”

Tears start forming in his eyes without permission. After another minute, Julie pulls away, ready to leave. Steve pulls out his keys and hands them to her. “Go ahead, my legs fell asleep. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”

She snorts. “I’ve been sitting here longer, but ok.” She takes the keys, starting to walk along the path to the parking lot.

Steve turns to face the grave again, taking a deep breath. “You raised a great kid, I wish my dad was less of a dick head so I could have met her sooner. Sorry for cursing at your grave, but he deserves it.” He turns to look at Julie walking down the path. “I got her now, you don’t have to worry. Or do, I know how moms like you always will. But she’ll be ok. I’m not leaving her anytime soon.”

He slowly stands, heading down the path Julie’s on. Catching up to her as she gets to the parking lot. She smiles at him when they get into the car, probably knowing that his excuse was made up. Silently thanking him for taking the time to talk to her mom. It was important to her, and it was important to him.

When they get home, Steve heads to the living room and puts on the tv. Christmas movies filling the channels. Julie joins him, sitting on the other end of the couch with a blanket.

It’s the first Christmas where he didn’t feel alone. And the first where he knew that he would never truly be alone again.

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